The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Tyrant Wyrm

The creature found them, long before they found it.

Sol was startled by the intelligence of the fiend: it waited until they had come across ravaged ruins, where the frozen earth had become corrupted here and there into sickeningly-warm, toxic mire. The poisonous muck exuded a malice all its own, and when they tried to cross the mire, every pony there felt a miasma spread through them, a terrible ache spread through their minds and hearts. And before even Sol could adjust to that paranoia, that confusion, the creature had attacked.

A great and terrible black dragon had torn its way out of where it had hidden itself beneath the very earth, ripping up in a great splash of muck and mud. It had swept mercilessly into their ranks, laughing, laughing; the beast was intelligent and cruel enough to take pleasure in what it was doing, in causing destruction as its first attack alone nearly decimated their ranks.

Titan was the first to react, while Sol stared at the monster, mind trying to analyze it as her body refused to move. But her brother swept in, and met the dragon's strength with his own, catching a leg as it swept out before he slammed the great beast down on its side, then twisted - and in that single move, nearly tore the beast's leg off.

Titan was shocked himself by how easily he had damaged the creature's limb... except the dragon only laughed. It laughed, as ponies scrambled for safety, not to get into rank and formation, but only to get away while they had the chance, panicking in the poisonous bog.

And then horror only grew as the creature's limb tore completely off... but in moments, the muck and toxic sludge of the mire began to heap upwards as the shattered limb rotted away into porcelain. In moments, a new leg formed out of dark mire, quickly becoming flesh and scale, and the creature grinned. 

But the true horror didn't begin until the creature spoke: it spoke, in words of terror, in words of pain and darkness, in words of the Void. It spoke, in words that made the minds of even Sol and Morgan and Titan ring with agony, before it started to chant.

Nothing could describe what happened from there: Sol was barely aware of what she was doing, as psychic pain tore through her mind, as blood ran from her ears. Her eyes blinded and bled, and she saw terrible memories, of terrible places. She saw Helheim, gaping, and she saw betrayals she did not know the truth behind. And for the first time in her life, she truly felt fear, and she truly felt helpless.

Sol, Titan, and Morgan barely escaped, broken and bloodied, escaping with less than half their army. The monster left them go, mocking them in its dark language, laughing at their pain. It had destroyed their army: it would languish in the dead and dying, it would accept the sacrifice of these soldiers to appease its hungers for now. It knew the three heroes would return after being so thoroughly bloodied and humiliated: in fact, it looked forwards to it.

For now, though, all Sol could do was lead the escape, madness wreaking havoc on her mind, pain pulsing through her body at every step. All she had learned from this encounter was that they were in no way prepared for this fight. That, and a single name that echoed through her mind:

Tyrant Wyrm.

I will resume shortly.

Because I am not lazy like Luna says I am.
Posts will become more scattered, though, because time is hell.

Time is hell.
Time really is hell.
That sounds too poetic for it to be original.

I have to go bandage an awkwardly-large cut on my rump, now. Please don't ask.
No, it's not from Luna. She leaves bruises, not cuts. At least on that particular part of my anatomy.


~Scrivener Blooms

Delay On Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan

I'll still try and post something when I can, but uh... Luna and I have hit kind of a snag with some things and I unfortunately don't have the time I need to do a decent job with the story right now, and I really want to try and do justice to the Tyrant Wyrms. But I suppose that helping Luna with her adventures battling undead and monsters and trees come first.
Don't ask about the trees. It's pretty horrible.
Anyway, with luck it shouldn't be too long. Just long enough to take care of some things, since I'll be away from this computer. Luna said I should bring it and she would just shoot it with electricity to make it work, but... I think this only proves that she still doesn't understand how technology works. She probably never will, either.
But uh. At least no one can say she's not supportive. You know, because hitting me and forcing me to do things I don't want to are all definitely signs of affection.

~Scrivener Blooms

The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: The Bloody Meadow

They were not prepared for what they saw.
Sol had expected to see something terrible. But she had not expected to see anything as terrible as this. There was no more farmland: the land had been scarred by poisonous mire, turned so toxic that she shivered at just the sight of it. Her siblings felt the same, although Titan was the worst affected by this poison: he quaked with disgust at it, and felt nature's true pain and fury... and a mutant, awful, insidious life in that toxin. Something that stank of corruption, pure and simple.
There were no more farmers here, no ponies left alive: they had all been taken by these things, whatever they had been. Darkness had stained the land from mountain to meadow, and winter itself had been driven back by this stinking mutant heat that now permeated the world.
Their enemy was greater and far more dangerous than Sol had anticipated. Their enemy was... something terrible, far more vile and evil than Sol had thought. And powerful, too, if this was but a sample of what it was capable of doing. The thought twisted Sol's heart... but filled her very soul with fury, too. And perhaps as well, a sense of battlelust. A desire to face such a powerful and dangerous foe, and test herself against it, to see who would triumph: to understand for once and for all, if honor and virtue was really worth pursuing, if it could overcome the alluring strength of raw, selfish power. Of power that was without restraint and without law, and without regard for others... of power, free of the tethers of friend or family or loyalty.
That was what they were faced with: something that destroyed, it that came from a place beyond, with no purpose in mind but hatred and destruction. And Sol was ready and willing to pit her family against this, no matter what this force was, no matter what the cost would be, in order to test both herself, and to understand what the bonds of friendship and companionship truly meant.
She would see if the words, spoken to her long ago, were true or not: she would test for herself now, if by working together, ponies could truly overcome any obstacle and foe in their path... or if that, like so many things in life, was nothing but an illusion based in stupid fantasies, and weaknesses like hope and compassion.

The Legend of Sol, Titan, and Morgan: Difficulties

The journey north was arduous, but not dangerous: it seemed as if all the competing evils of the world had decided to lay their weapons aside for now, in order to flee from whatever wretched darkness had crept into their world and was denned near the northern mountains.
It was not a good sign, even if many of their soldiers took heart at it, believing that their army of warriors was great enough to frighten away the goblins and the monsters that usually patrolled these mountains for prey. But even if they were a strong and resolute force, Sol  was well aware by now the battle they were marching into would be like no other they had fought.
More than that, she had a terrible creeping sensation, an instinct that something was going to go wrong, and very shortly. No, worse than that... more and more, she began to think the signs leading them north were all too obvious, that they could very well be marching straight into some kind of trap... or maybe some kind of test. They knew too little about this foe to be sure of anything...
What other choice did they have, though? Sol knew that all they could really do was hope they would learn more from this enemy than this enemy would from them... and all she was truly sure of right now was that this was only the beginning of their battle against this dark and terrible new evil.
While Sol was busying herself with planning and preparation, Titan was spending time with the troops, trying to keep their spirits up and energize them, helping with the morale of soldiers who were confident in their strength, but still unhappy to be on such a long march into alien territory... and those who weren't arrogant in their beliefs were either frightened or anxious.
Titan tried to reconcile these emotions, to bring confidence to the worried soldiers, and caution to the arrogant. But it was difficult to find the balance: they had brought so many soldiers that not even the stallion's legendary wisdom and cheer could sway the crowd. And more than that, Sol's silence seemed to encourage them: they were an army without a leader, expected to take care of themselves, left in the too-few hooves of officers who were often young and brave and bold... but those were not always good things in a soldier who was supposed to keep his fellows not just proud and dedicated, but aware of their own flaws,  and of the dangers that were waiting ahead.
Morgan, lastly, had her own worries: she and her paladin lover had had an argument. It was a silly thing, small and unimportant, and yet all the same it distracted her, and made it difficult to work with not only him, but his entire order. Soon, she knew, they would reconcile: Morgan's passions burned like fire, quick and hot and fierce, but always cooled in time, and her paladin was meek-natured for all the boldness and bravado he tried to put on. It would be easy for them to swallow their anger at one another with the passage of time.
But for now, it was making it hard for Morgan to even be in camp... and what frustrated her further was Sol's anger at her for allowing her emotions to interfere with her duties. And even worse than that, was knowing that Sol had every right to be angry. Hadn't Morgan promised that exactly this would not happen? And she knew, in her heart of hearts, how foolish this was: letting a bit of spite and emotion get between her and her duties. But, she supposed, even creatures such as she had hearts, and hearts were difficult things to mend.
And yet still, the army marched on... too few realizing that fractures were already beginning to form among the ranks of an army that already was striding to the very edge of oblivion.