The Tyrant Wyrm was choking on its own black blood, its lower jaw missing, its body a broken mass of torn and tattered scale. It gargled, but it could not speak its ill verses, any more than it could drag itself forwards, or heal itself with the ground beneath it irradiated with Sol's holy fire.
Her foe was languishing in torment... but all the same, it showed no sign of weakening, or giving in. Instead, it feebly dragged itself forwards through the sludge and ash, head tilting back and forth as it glared down into Sol's eyes, and Sol glared fearlessly back, in spite of the hooks she felt trying to grasp into her mind, the way it tried to assault her with psychic malice.
But Sol had plenty of experience with psychic powers, both benign and evil, and its hooks found no purchase in her mind, and its attempts to manipulate her emotion only fueled her righteous fury. She glared at the creature as the creature stumbled towards her... but no matter how much mightier this beast was than the belly-crawling servant lizards that had first attacked their camp, this vermin would die as they did.
It stumbled, then fell into the flames with a broken chuckle: it was only moments more before its body turned to porcelain, and it fell apart into ruin and dust. For as mighty as they were, these Wyrms still had weaknesses she could take advantage of, she saw, and there were other ways to destroy them than simply by piercing the core within their breast, if so their hoof was forced. It was something else Sol would take into account, and something she had noted was useful also against the thralls: creatures she had been warned of too late by Veliuona's minion.
She did not think it was a coincidence that this disciple of the Goddess of Cursed Shades had only warned them of the dangers of the undead that had swept down upon them after the Tyrant Wyrms themselves had attacked. She did not believe in 'coincidence,' and that such a stroke of 'fortune' had not been engineered, after their forces had been conveniently weakened, and before the disciple and Veliuona's forces themselves could be blamed or endangered.
Sol watched the way Veliouna's disciple rounded up her undead to gather the fallen thralls of the Wyrm from where they writhed on the earth, moaning and gargling as they lost their unnatural life. Still, the Disciple wanted to burn them, spoke of dark and terrible magic powering these empty vessels, even though they had been dying and fading from from the moment that she had cut their connection with their master by suffusing the larger Wyrm in golden flames.
There was much to reflect on. Much to consider, and much to think about. The Tyrant Wyrms were far more dangerous... and perhaps Veliuona meant to destroy them sooner than Sol had first anticipated. She would be watchful, and she would be wary, and she would not be foolish enough to take her weaker sibling's advice and offer Veliuona either mercy or reprieve, should Veliuona or her minions show any sign of betraying them in the future.
In spite of all the evil she had seen, Sol still would not believe that the greatest threat to Equestria was not Veliuona, but the Wyrms. And in a strange way, she was right.
Thursday 26 March 2015
Friday 20 March 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Ruin
That was all they saw: ruin, chaos, and destruction. Titan was silent as he surveyed the wreckage of what had once been a prosperous settlement, and now was nothing but a mix of black mire and ruined, fallen-apart buildings.
Morgan was horrified, and her Paladin shivered in fear at the destruction that had been left in the wake of the creature that had passed through this place. Not a single soul had survived, it seemed: every home, every possible escape had been plowed through or broken open like an egg, and there were bodies strewn here and there through the mire... and worse yet, shapes as if bodies had once lain here and there, but then had been dragged off by something.
Titan and Morgan slowly explored the wreckage, the Paladin lingering close behind, the disciple of Veliuona striding along with them, for once seeming alert and aware instead of distant and aloof. It spoke to them in harsh tones, but Titan heard fear in its voice when it said that dark and ominous things had been at work here, and that death and undeath had both been perverted to the cause of the sinister creature that had attacked this place.
Titan said quietly that the Tyrant Wyrms had given their reply, for this, he stated, was the first sign of what such beasts were truly capable of. Yes, they had seen great destruction in the past, but this had warped nature itself, and when they touched the black mire, they felt poison in the soil, and a terrible evil that tried to stretch itself up into their minds.
Morgan heard such terrible voices. Felt such awful feelings run through her... heard a whisper she had never heard before, as they walked through the bog-land, a voice from the deepest darkness inside her. And her Paladin quavered as he tried to stride beside her, but at the same time, walked not like a noble knight but instead a scared foal, trying to slip beneath his lover's wing, uncaring of what he looked like.
And Titan heard not just mockery, but callousness and cruelty, a disdain for all that was that attempted to claw into his very soul. For Titan was a creature of nature and the world, but also a being who believed in love, and strength through mercy and virtue. This voice in the mire whispered that all such things were worthless, with how often it was conquerors who wrote history and decided what would be fact, and what would be fiction...
But no. Titan knew there was more than power to rule, just as those who lived by force, died by it as well. He knew that all must sow what they reaped, for that was the law of nature. He would not let such terrible persuasions take root inside him, and instead guided his group away from the mire, and its unnatural heat and evil voices.
They found little in the village of use to them, but Veliuona's disciple, on the other hoof, became suddenly anxious as they approached several burned, dead bodies, twisted in unnatural display. She asked permission to examine them: the paladin was horrified, and Morgan neutral, although she little liked the idea of letting the disciple play with these murdered lives. But to her surprise, Titan agreed immediately, then reassured his sibling that nature had already taken back these lives: there was no disrespect in allowing Veliuona's disciple to examine these corpses.
All the same, Titan watched closely as the disciple looked over the bodies, then used its dark magics to bring one of the corpses to a state of half-undeath. It could not move... and immediately, Titan sensed that something was wrong. Not in the balance of life and death, but rather, in the way the disciple stiffened, and the now-moving corpse shifted, unnatural even by the standards of the living dead...
It rasped at them. It spoke, in a tongue that Titan could not understand, and yet all the same he recognized: the language of the Wyrms. It hissed what could only be threats, until the disciple of Veliuona suddenly ended its magic, and the corpse fell still again.
For a time, it was quiet, even as Morgan shifted and her Paladin blurted questions, shouted accusations until he was silenced by his lover. And Titan asked a single question, but he already knew the answer, even before Veliuona's disciple turned to him... grim, even for the living dead, and answering in a voice that was filled with the same fear that so many of the living felt for those touched by undeath.
The Wyrm that had destroyed this village had stolen the corpses... but not merely to feast. Titan was right: the Wyrms were taking the offensive now, instead of merely playing their games of destruction. They were beginning to show what they were truly capable of: tarnishing the spirits and bodies of those they killed so blackly that they became deathless servants, connected to their master, who existed only to spread their disease into others.
And Titan realized that no matter how quickly they moved, they were fighting a losing battle: these Wyrms in play had already destroyed dozens of settlements and tarnished who knew how much of their land black with mire. Now, if they were marshaling their own armies of the dead... he feared what they would have to do, merely to survive.
He feared this was a battle that even together, they could not win.
Morgan was horrified, and her Paladin shivered in fear at the destruction that had been left in the wake of the creature that had passed through this place. Not a single soul had survived, it seemed: every home, every possible escape had been plowed through or broken open like an egg, and there were bodies strewn here and there through the mire... and worse yet, shapes as if bodies had once lain here and there, but then had been dragged off by something.
Titan and Morgan slowly explored the wreckage, the Paladin lingering close behind, the disciple of Veliuona striding along with them, for once seeming alert and aware instead of distant and aloof. It spoke to them in harsh tones, but Titan heard fear in its voice when it said that dark and ominous things had been at work here, and that death and undeath had both been perverted to the cause of the sinister creature that had attacked this place.
Titan said quietly that the Tyrant Wyrms had given their reply, for this, he stated, was the first sign of what such beasts were truly capable of. Yes, they had seen great destruction in the past, but this had warped nature itself, and when they touched the black mire, they felt poison in the soil, and a terrible evil that tried to stretch itself up into their minds.
Morgan heard such terrible voices. Felt such awful feelings run through her... heard a whisper she had never heard before, as they walked through the bog-land, a voice from the deepest darkness inside her. And her Paladin quavered as he tried to stride beside her, but at the same time, walked not like a noble knight but instead a scared foal, trying to slip beneath his lover's wing, uncaring of what he looked like.
And Titan heard not just mockery, but callousness and cruelty, a disdain for all that was that attempted to claw into his very soul. For Titan was a creature of nature and the world, but also a being who believed in love, and strength through mercy and virtue. This voice in the mire whispered that all such things were worthless, with how often it was conquerors who wrote history and decided what would be fact, and what would be fiction...
But no. Titan knew there was more than power to rule, just as those who lived by force, died by it as well. He knew that all must sow what they reaped, for that was the law of nature. He would not let such terrible persuasions take root inside him, and instead guided his group away from the mire, and its unnatural heat and evil voices.
They found little in the village of use to them, but Veliuona's disciple, on the other hoof, became suddenly anxious as they approached several burned, dead bodies, twisted in unnatural display. She asked permission to examine them: the paladin was horrified, and Morgan neutral, although she little liked the idea of letting the disciple play with these murdered lives. But to her surprise, Titan agreed immediately, then reassured his sibling that nature had already taken back these lives: there was no disrespect in allowing Veliuona's disciple to examine these corpses.
All the same, Titan watched closely as the disciple looked over the bodies, then used its dark magics to bring one of the corpses to a state of half-undeath. It could not move... and immediately, Titan sensed that something was wrong. Not in the balance of life and death, but rather, in the way the disciple stiffened, and the now-moving corpse shifted, unnatural even by the standards of the living dead...
It rasped at them. It spoke, in a tongue that Titan could not understand, and yet all the same he recognized: the language of the Wyrms. It hissed what could only be threats, until the disciple of Veliuona suddenly ended its magic, and the corpse fell still again.
For a time, it was quiet, even as Morgan shifted and her Paladin blurted questions, shouted accusations until he was silenced by his lover. And Titan asked a single question, but he already knew the answer, even before Veliuona's disciple turned to him... grim, even for the living dead, and answering in a voice that was filled with the same fear that so many of the living felt for those touched by undeath.
The Wyrm that had destroyed this village had stolen the corpses... but not merely to feast. Titan was right: the Wyrms were taking the offensive now, instead of merely playing their games of destruction. They were beginning to show what they were truly capable of: tarnishing the spirits and bodies of those they killed so blackly that they became deathless servants, connected to their master, who existed only to spread their disease into others.
And Titan realized that no matter how quickly they moved, they were fighting a losing battle: these Wyrms in play had already destroyed dozens of settlements and tarnished who knew how much of their land black with mire. Now, if they were marshaling their own armies of the dead... he feared what they would have to do, merely to survive.
He feared this was a battle that even together, they could not win.
Saturday 14 March 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: In Face Of Tyranny
Titan and Morgan were ambushed by a Tyrant Wyrm past the edge of the canyon: the black beast fell on them like a living tide, roaring its challenge to the two. They leapt to meet it ahead of their company of knights, with the paladin Morgan so loved dallying behind them, letting the stronger ponies go first.
Titan slammed into the creature, a living cliff that the wave of the beast battered itself uselessly against and was pushed back by, and Morgan attacked the beast from above, harrying it and distracting it. Titan pushed forwards again, to force the creature further back, and yet at the same time Morgan wondered: why did Titan not devastate the beast as she knew he had the power to?
All the same, the Wyrm was no match for them, pushed all the way out of the canyon and into a broad waste. The skirmish became fiercer in the open, but with more room to maneuver, Titan quickly began to outpace the beast, striking at its legs and tail as Morgan smashed off its horns, then blasted away the bony pistons that stood out of its back, and she thought she began to understand what Titan was doing.
The Wyrm fell before them after not much longer, and Morgan and Titan both settled in front of the creature. It lay with legs broken and back bleeding, wounds covering its body... and yet still it grinned at them, mockingly. It was smaller than the other Wyrms they had seen: Morgan would guess it was but a juvenile, and perhaps not of the same ilk as the greater Wyrms they had seen before had been. This one, after all, did not speak in poison words.
But still, Titan approached it, fearless, looking into its hollow-hell eyes before he asked what its intentions were. And to their surprise, the beast laughed, and responded with words that hurt their minds, twisted their souls... and yet even so foreign as they were, could still be understood.
It was here to test them. And that was the only answer it would give, the rest of Titan's questions greeted by laughter until Titan finally asked why the creature had not fought with all its strength. Why it lay in ruin, when they knew that the creatures were capable of putting themselves back together from the power of the earth.
To this, the Wyrm asked derisively why it had not yet been killed. That was its only purpose, to die at their hooves. For it was destruction, it declared, with a terrible pride. It was destruction, to bring and to feel, and that was what it was waiting for. That was what it longed for.
Titan said he would not grant the Wyrm destruction, and the Wyrm, mocking, asked if that meant Titan would sacrifice his sisters, his friends in its place. But Titan only smiled, unafraid and unfettered, before he replied that there would be no sacrifice of those he loved, either. For Titan had a message for the Wyrm to carry to its maker, whom he knew had denned near the Grey Mountains, and he asked the Wyrm to take it there for him.
The Wyrm laughed, and Titan gave his message: the the Wyrms leave this place, and return to whence they had come. That they swallow their need for destruction, or else find a place where their destruction would aid creation. That unlike his sister, he wished to give these Wyrms, whether they were poison or not, one chance to leave, elsewise the next they meet his hoof would be forced to destroy these desolate creatures.
And then, before the Wyrm could mock, or deride, or laugh, Titan picked up the great beast as if it was no lighter than a child's toy, and to the shock of the soldiers who had nervously gathered to watch the parlay, Titan flung the tremendous Wyrm far out of sight, well-beyond the plains they had pass and towards the Grey Mountains on the other side of Equestria. For all the soldiers knew, the Wyrm may very well have landed in that forbidden place to deliver Titan's message.
Titan, satisfied, turned to lead the caravan on, and Morgan laughed, feeling that she had learned much of negotiating that day... and learned all over again the art of mercy, and how to offer peace to even the worst of monsters was not an act of weakness.
Titan slammed into the creature, a living cliff that the wave of the beast battered itself uselessly against and was pushed back by, and Morgan attacked the beast from above, harrying it and distracting it. Titan pushed forwards again, to force the creature further back, and yet at the same time Morgan wondered: why did Titan not devastate the beast as she knew he had the power to?
All the same, the Wyrm was no match for them, pushed all the way out of the canyon and into a broad waste. The skirmish became fiercer in the open, but with more room to maneuver, Titan quickly began to outpace the beast, striking at its legs and tail as Morgan smashed off its horns, then blasted away the bony pistons that stood out of its back, and she thought she began to understand what Titan was doing.
The Wyrm fell before them after not much longer, and Morgan and Titan both settled in front of the creature. It lay with legs broken and back bleeding, wounds covering its body... and yet still it grinned at them, mockingly. It was smaller than the other Wyrms they had seen: Morgan would guess it was but a juvenile, and perhaps not of the same ilk as the greater Wyrms they had seen before had been. This one, after all, did not speak in poison words.
But still, Titan approached it, fearless, looking into its hollow-hell eyes before he asked what its intentions were. And to their surprise, the beast laughed, and responded with words that hurt their minds, twisted their souls... and yet even so foreign as they were, could still be understood.
It was here to test them. And that was the only answer it would give, the rest of Titan's questions greeted by laughter until Titan finally asked why the creature had not fought with all its strength. Why it lay in ruin, when they knew that the creatures were capable of putting themselves back together from the power of the earth.
To this, the Wyrm asked derisively why it had not yet been killed. That was its only purpose, to die at their hooves. For it was destruction, it declared, with a terrible pride. It was destruction, to bring and to feel, and that was what it was waiting for. That was what it longed for.
Titan said he would not grant the Wyrm destruction, and the Wyrm, mocking, asked if that meant Titan would sacrifice his sisters, his friends in its place. But Titan only smiled, unafraid and unfettered, before he replied that there would be no sacrifice of those he loved, either. For Titan had a message for the Wyrm to carry to its maker, whom he knew had denned near the Grey Mountains, and he asked the Wyrm to take it there for him.
The Wyrm laughed, and Titan gave his message: the the Wyrms leave this place, and return to whence they had come. That they swallow their need for destruction, or else find a place where their destruction would aid creation. That unlike his sister, he wished to give these Wyrms, whether they were poison or not, one chance to leave, elsewise the next they meet his hoof would be forced to destroy these desolate creatures.
And then, before the Wyrm could mock, or deride, or laugh, Titan picked up the great beast as if it was no lighter than a child's toy, and to the shock of the soldiers who had nervously gathered to watch the parlay, Titan flung the tremendous Wyrm far out of sight, well-beyond the plains they had pass and towards the Grey Mountains on the other side of Equestria. For all the soldiers knew, the Wyrm may very well have landed in that forbidden place to deliver Titan's message.
Titan, satisfied, turned to lead the caravan on, and Morgan laughed, feeling that she had learned much of negotiating that day... and learned all over again the art of mercy, and how to offer peace to even the worst of monsters was not an act of weakness.
Thursday 5 March 2015
The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Titan's Passage
Titan and Morgan led their own contingent of soldiers onward, heading along the route that Sol had marked for them. Morgan's loyal Paladin hurried along at their side, almost as if in supplication, even though it had been days since they had last argued; it made Morgan wonder if he had done some other ill deed she had yet to discover.
But for now, she concentrated on the road ahead. Their passage was not an easy one through the marred and scarred gorge that their journey took them through, but they were able to avoid the worst of the weather above. And while it was difficult terrain to navigate, it proved an excellent place for camp, with abundant detritus for them to burn for fires.
Titan had slowed their march a little and was not pushing his soldiers as hard as Sol had: they seemed grateful for it, and Morgan was curious why the stallion had chosen to slow their pace so greatly. And Titan replied that nature had warned him not to exhaust their soldiers: they would need their help, as the foe was waiting for them.
Titan quieted, and Morgan frowned. She didn't know how the Tyrant Wyrms could continue to predict their movements. But Titan only smiled, and answered before she could even think of how to phrase the question, that the Wyrms were so easily predicting them because their attack on Equestria was not just a destroyer's rampage. They were calling out the strong, eager to lure out what victims they could... eager to separate them, just as they had done, so they could try to ambush and destroy them. Titan had realized that as foul as these enemies were... there was something fouler still guiding them.
Morgan didn't like that thought, and the paladin, too, was made uneasy by it. Morgan was curious if Veliuona might have either inkling of the foe they faced, or something to do with the enemy... but Titan only smiled, and reassured her that no, the Goddess of Cursed Shades had no complex game against them. What her goals were in the future, he was not sure: as to whether or not they would one day be enemies, he sadly predicted that yes, they would. But until that time came, he would treat her and her brethren as he would treat any other pony. And he would never forget the good that she had done in this mission, 'lest he prejudice himself against others who had done no crime against him, but were similar in nature to the Velites.
His sister laughed at this, and pointed out that few ponies would care for the feelings of the undead. Titan, however, only smiled, and said that he was few ponies, in that case.
When the night was over, and they made ready to leave, Titan started the day as he always did: greeting mother nature and his family with love, speaking to the soldiers he was leading with affection and kindness, and then boldly striding forwards to accomplish what had to be done.
It was a new day, and Titan would see that they made the very best of it, no matter how dark the future was. Because the future was nothing but shadows and echoes, but the present was what they lived in, could touch, and owed to themselves to make the most of.
But for now, she concentrated on the road ahead. Their passage was not an easy one through the marred and scarred gorge that their journey took them through, but they were able to avoid the worst of the weather above. And while it was difficult terrain to navigate, it proved an excellent place for camp, with abundant detritus for them to burn for fires.
Titan had slowed their march a little and was not pushing his soldiers as hard as Sol had: they seemed grateful for it, and Morgan was curious why the stallion had chosen to slow their pace so greatly. And Titan replied that nature had warned him not to exhaust their soldiers: they would need their help, as the foe was waiting for them.
Titan quieted, and Morgan frowned. She didn't know how the Tyrant Wyrms could continue to predict their movements. But Titan only smiled, and answered before she could even think of how to phrase the question, that the Wyrms were so easily predicting them because their attack on Equestria was not just a destroyer's rampage. They were calling out the strong, eager to lure out what victims they could... eager to separate them, just as they had done, so they could try to ambush and destroy them. Titan had realized that as foul as these enemies were... there was something fouler still guiding them.
Morgan didn't like that thought, and the paladin, too, was made uneasy by it. Morgan was curious if Veliuona might have either inkling of the foe they faced, or something to do with the enemy... but Titan only smiled, and reassured her that no, the Goddess of Cursed Shades had no complex game against them. What her goals were in the future, he was not sure: as to whether or not they would one day be enemies, he sadly predicted that yes, they would. But until that time came, he would treat her and her brethren as he would treat any other pony. And he would never forget the good that she had done in this mission, 'lest he prejudice himself against others who had done no crime against him, but were similar in nature to the Velites.
His sister laughed at this, and pointed out that few ponies would care for the feelings of the undead. Titan, however, only smiled, and said that he was few ponies, in that case.
When the night was over, and they made ready to leave, Titan started the day as he always did: greeting mother nature and his family with love, speaking to the soldiers he was leading with affection and kindness, and then boldly striding forwards to accomplish what had to be done.
It was a new day, and Titan would see that they made the very best of it, no matter how dark the future was. Because the future was nothing but shadows and echoes, but the present was what they lived in, could touch, and owed to themselves to make the most of.
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