New Moon Rises (MLP Quest)

dracklor said:

Ooo, do you have free time again?

Click to expand...

Click to shrink...

Only briefly - blame work.
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[ ] Examine the stoneworks – some of them look ritualistic A clue to our current state, mayhaps?

You drift through the aisles of crates and ruins, the captains cursing carrying through the warehouse as you drift through the largest set of objects in the impromptu collection. Ah - feels like home...

Stone columns lay dismantled, piles of straw strewn around them from their packing material. Entire sections of wall have been rebuilt nearby, window arches spaced apart by worn engravings. Even unfinished, you could tell that whatever this was had likely been impressive.

"Huh," you jump at the sudden voice from your side, and quickly spin around to see... Chromia standing next to you, "So, this is... strange. Why are they building a building inside another building?"

"To hide a building, obviously," you reply with a shrug, "Trixie guesses that whatever this structure is, it's important to they're plan."

"And any idea what 'whatever this is' actually, you know, is?" Chromia asked as she poked at a column section.

"No," you reply, before a thought occurs to you, "But... Trixie might have an idea."

Chromia arches an eyebrow, "What sort of idea is this? Since a couple of your last few sorta scared the other ponies..."

You shoot Chromia a sharp look, but otherwise ignore her as you channel magic through your horn. You carefully shape the magic before letting it roll off you and spread out around the space, wrapping over and around the stonework around you until everything is covered with a faint blue glow. Now for the hard part.

You exhale slowly, letting your eyes slide closed as you take the warped sheet that is you magic at the moment and, carefully... lift.

Slowly, the blue sheen rises upward until you have a ghostly echo of the stonework around you floating half-way to the roof. You take a moment to examine your work so far, "Good - but a bit unwieldly," You run your horn through a complicated gesture and the glowing hieghtmap of the stone work shrinks down, tilting over until its floating before you like an oversized chalkboard.

Chromia glances back and forth between the model and your surroundings a few times before settling her gaze on you, "Woah. Nice trick."

You take a moment preen, "Trixie's talent is illusions after all, do you expect anything less? Now..." you turn back to the model, "...time to assemble the puzzle." You start by throwing out the parts you don't need - the floor, the crates, the piles of straw your spell picked up while it scanned the stonework. That leaves you with.... a bunch of columns, walls, bricks, and all of one column in place thanks to whoever was working on this before. Darn.

"Stuck?" Chromia asks. You don't have to turn around to know she's smirking.

"Trixie is not stuck!" you quickly reply, before adding, "However, we are willing to hear out any suggestions you might have..."

Chromia manages to surpress her chuckle long enough to point at something ahead of you, "Manual's on the floor, ma'am."

Begrudgingly, you follow her hoof to the floor and sure enough there are a series of chalk drawings and diagrams spread out across the floor that at least sort of look like floor diagrams. "Fine - if that one goes there...." You begin to piece together your model, and slowly the ghost-like model begins to take shape. the main walls curved out from a front entryway, a pair of columns on either side spaced out between large arched windows. The focal point of the structure was some sort of altar - but beyond its circular shape, you didn't have much to go on for it. ...Wait a minute - I think this is home.

"Wow," Chromia says as she paces around the model, "Thats one hay of a place; can't say I recognize it though," the bat pony frowns as she leans into the model and pokes at the altar with her hoof, "Where'd this bit come from?"

"Hrm..." you glance around for a moment before heading off to the side, "Over here, if Trixie is not mistaken..." You pull a lid off a crate, revealing the altar, "See?" you turn back to Chromia as you move to lay a hoof on the altar, "What did Trixie tell-"

And then everything went black

"Oh, great." you turn around the see the gray mare muttering behind you, a silver glow from her horn lighting up the void around you as she glances in your direction, "Good to see you again, Miss Lulamoon."

"And you, Miss..." you pause, "...Actually, you never did give Trixie your name."

"Well, my old name is somewhat taken at the moment," she replies with a smirk, "And to be fair I'm not sure it's mine to take anyhow."

"Your name or not, Trixie would like to know who you... were, she supposes." You say as you take a seat across from her.

"Oh, come now," the mare says as she examines a hoof, "Surely you already have an idea? After everything you've seen - and everypony that's come after you."

"The only ponies that have come after Trixie is those accursed cultists, and the only reason they're after her is that they think Trixie can get them their..." you freeze, turning to the mare, "...no."

"Yes..." the mare replied before giving a shrug, "...and no."

You raise an eyebrow at that, "Care to explain?"

The mare shrugs, "Nothing you can't already guess - the cultists ritual didn't work as they planned, else you wouldn't be here. But it did something."

"Something being you," You conclude.

"Something being me," the mare nods.

"But you can't be her," you reply, "Not only are you not... evil, the Princess already checked Trixie for that. So, Trixie asks again - who are you?"

"That was the 'and no' part, my dear," the mare replies, "It seems I am not all that I could be - probably a good thing, since all of me wasn't exactly stable. But matters of my identity wasn't why we're here."

"Then why are we here?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Because you touched that damned altar," the mare replies, "And now its trying to finish the ritual."

"What!?" you shriek, "How do we-"

You were cut off as you were ripped back to reality by the weight of a bat pony slamming into you and you both uncerimoniously ending up sprawling across the floor.

"...ow," you manage after a moment.

'Agreed.'

....Well, that is going to take some getting used to.

Chromia doesn't seem to notice your brief internal conversation as she begins to examine you, "Are you alright? Anything hurt? Strange tingling? Sudden muderous urges?"

"Yes, everything, just in my forhooves and no more then usual," you reply with a groan.

"In that case," Chromia says she she pulls herself up and offers you a hoof, "What was that?"

"Just the altar trying to finish its ritual, but-" You cut yourself off briefly. Definitely going to take some getting used to. You cough awkwardly before continuing, "...but without the rest of the ritual it didn't really do anything..."

"Oh, good," Chromia says as she glances toward the altar, "Most of the guards are busy moving the rest of this stuff and I wasn't looking forward to fighting some evil goddess. So, since you aren't suddenly evil - do you still have that model?" You nod as you reconjure the miniature model of temple, and Chromia takes a moment to study it again, "Think Twilight would know what this place is?"

[ ] Take the plan to Twilight
[ ] Figure it out yourself

What's next?
[ ] Meet up with Shining Armor; Start figuring out how to take down this cult
[ ] Head back to the Library and begin researching what you can
[ ] You've been in Canterlot too long; Pack up and see what you can find elsewhere
- [ ] Where to?

[ ] Write-in

Achievement=plurality, Achievement=This Old House, Shadow=+2, Metampsychosis=+1

((A/N: Last post for a while thanks to work. Go read DB_Explorer's RBWY Quest until I get back in a few months.))

((A/N: back from my trip and reworking my arcs and plots for the quest - RL stuff might make updating the quest regularly difficult for a bit, so here's a short to tide you over for a until I can manage a proper update.))

--What-if: Stories We Tell in the Dark--

Green flames flickered in crystalline wall sconces, the eerie light casting strange shadows that danced across the obsidian walls of the chamber. Furniture of either dark stone or some strange greenish organic decorated the room, but did little to change the spartan feeling of the space.

A green futon lay against a far wall, an on it a lone figure sat curled up as she studied her own hooves. Black chitin – the same color of the wall – covers them completely, just like the rest of her body, save for where holes run straight through them. In the silence of the room, she can make out the soft sound of the of the myriad of little plate clicking and sliding across or against each other as she turned them over. With a forlorn sigh, she dropped her hooves back to the futon and curled in on herself, the hole-ridden gossamer wings on her back buzzing briefly as she adjusted herself, pulling the blanket around her with her hooves – she didn't trust her magic, not now. "What now, Trixie?" she murmured to herself, silver mane falling across her face as she dropped her head into her hooves, "...what could anypony do?"

She wasn't expecting an answer – she wasn't a pony anymore, after all.

That had, however, left things open for another changeling.

A sharp rapping on her chamber door brought her out of her introspection before a voice carried through the door, "Lady Lulamoon," the voice had the the calm authoritative tone she'd long since come to associate with guards and the like and his voice had a familiar reverberation to it.

'Must be Wayland," Trixie thought to herself as she said out loud, "Go away."

"Lady Lulamoon," the guard outside the door continued, "I have been tasked to ensure that you had eaten and to ask if you would reconsider this… seclusion."

Trixie lifted her head just enough to glance at the door – as well as the platter and its untouched bowls of salad and honey, "No," Trixie replied as he slumped back down, her horn tapping against one leg, "to both – now leave me alone."

A buzzing sigh carried through the door, "As you wish," Trixie listened for another moment until she was sure that she she could hear his vanishing hoof falls before curling back up on the futon.

Which was naturally when the doors of her chamber exploded off their hinges.

Trixie had barely managed to leap off the futon before she was suddenly yanked up and forward by an aura of green magic before she came to a sharp stop near the center of the room. She hung there for a several long moments before a series of slow, heavy hoof falls carried down the hall until their origin showed themselves. She was a a good few heads taller then Trixie, all long limbs and curving neck and lithe torso in the same black chitin that now covered Trixie. Her mane a tail were both pale blue and ran through with holes that shifted about as she walked, wings like Trixie's buzzing softly on her back occasionally as she studied seemingly everything in the room save for Trixie herself. Emerald eyes danced across the furniture in the room as she came to a stop a few paces from Trixie, the magic from her jagged black horn casting of green sparks as she tisked softly, "Really, my dear," she said after a moment, "I expect better from my daughter then sulking and a hunger strike."

Trixie glared at her, "You are not my mother, Chrysalis." she bit out.

"Really?" Chrysalis replied with a smirk, "Because you certainly have my horn," she gave Trixie's horn – jagged and black – a soft tap before she continued, "Like it or not, you chose to become one of my hive – and that makes you one of my children. What good was choosing to live then if you're just going to die now?"

Trixie turned away sulkily. She didn't have a reply for that, so instead she said, "Trixie will live, but she has no intention of living with…"

"Monsters?" Chrysalis finished for her, "Bugs? Go ahead and say it – I know what you're thinking."

"Trixie was going to say 'these beings'," she lied, "Trixie is not a changeling."

"So you still seem to think," Chrysalis said as she levitated over the half-finished salad and untouched bowl of honey, "Refusing to consume your emotive ration, avoiding your magic – afraid to admit what you are now?"

"Trixie is a pony," the former showmare replied sharply.

"Not anymore, But I didn't come here to argue with you. Actually," Chrysalis said, "I have a job for you."

Trixie raised an eyebrow at that, "So, now the truth comes out – what do you want from Trixie?"

Chrysalis shrugged as she turned away and gently lowered Trixie to the floor, "I'm sure it's right up your alley – I want you to take a walk."

Trixie blinked, "What?"

Chrysalis gave her a quizzical glance, "You were a traveling magician before, yes? So take a walk, talk to some changelings – maybe put on a show. Veil knows my children could use the distraction right now."

"So," Trixie said slowly after a moment, "you're saying you want Trixie to…. Make friends?"

Chrysalis shrugged, "It would be nice – I've invested a lot in you; you do noling any good sulking in here."

"What if I refuse?" Trixie asked.

Chrysalis's smirk grew predatory, "What makes you think you have a choice?"

Fifteen minutes, one very uncomfortable meal and a burst of magic later, Trixie Lulamoon found herself locked out of the towering obsidian edifice of the royal residence, sprawled out on her rump as two guards watched her with well concealed amusement. "Do you need help, my lady?"

Trixie picked herself up, dusting herself off before considering the guard, "No. No, Trixie is…" she sighed, "Trixie is fine." Without another word, she turned and started down the street further into the heart of the hive.

She'd been given a brief tour a week ago, when she had first awoken like this. The Queen's royal residence sat in the center of a collection of official buildings and military structures that made the level the hive's seat of government, all of them carved out of the natural stone of the cavern that changeling's had expanded into a fortress city generations ago.

Or, that was what Chrysalis had told her. She had told her that this city had been abandoned long ago, and now her hive had been forced to return to it in their time of need. Trixie paused as she glanced toward the ceiling that arched far overhead, iridescent crystals embedded in the stone cast everything in a pale illumination that left the street in a state of perpetual twilight.

"Hey," Trixie's gaze was drawn by a small voice, and she found a small changeling – a nymph, right? - standing awkwardly a few paces ahead of her, pacing uncomfortably like he wasn't sure what to do now that Trixie was looking at her. At least, she thought she was a her – she was getting better at identifying them after a week, even if most of her practice had been on guards delivering her meals.

Trixie arched an eyebrow, "Yes? Can Trixie help you?"

"Um," the young changeling started hesitantly, "Are you a…. princess?" The nymph's gaze flickered from her hooves to Trixie – or, specifically, her mane. Most changelings didn't have one – just a fin-like frill, and their tails were much the same. Only Queen Chrysalis had a proper mane – along with Trixie.

Once the idea of being mistaken for royalty would have made Trixie's day – now she just gave a long sigh, "No, Trixie is not a princess. She's just-"

"Mira!" Both of them turned as an older changeling – another female, a pair of saddlebags woven out what looked like green strands came down the stairs of the building they were standing in front of – the hospital, Trixie realized. The last time she had been her was when she'd… woken up.

The new arrival didn't pay Trixie any mind as she marched up to Mira and locked a firm gaze on her – an impressive feet, given the solid blue eyes of most changelings, "Mira! You were allowed to walk down the hall, not out of the building! You could have been hurt!"

"But, but miss Thalia..." Mira stammered, before pointing at Trixie, "Princess!"

The other changeling – Thalia – finally noticed Trixie and nearly jumped out of her shell, "My lady! I'm so sorry I didn't notice you! I-"

"It's fine," Trixie quickly cut her off, "Trixie is just talking a walk."

"Beg your pardon, my lady," Thalia gave a quick bow before she started nudging Mira along, "Come along – back inside with you. You aren't supposed to be out."

"Yes, Miss Thalia..." Mira glumly as he toward the steps.

Trixie watched the nymph walk away as Thalia sighed, "By the Azure Veil, that child..."

"What's wrong with her?" Trixie asked, her curiosity momentarily surpassing her melancholy.

"Gadan's syndrome," Thalia replied. At Trixie's blankly at her, she elaborated, "Underdeveloped prana circuits; she has problems ingesting emotions or casting properly."

"Isn't that..." Trixie tried to think of a good word, but eventually settled on, "Really bad?"

"It's treatable," Thalia assured her, "But it takes a while, and her parents missing after the invasion..."

"I see..." Trixie replied as the pair of them lapsed into silence.

"Would you like to meet them?" Thalia suddenly offered.

Trixie's head snapped around to look at Thalia, "What? Why?"

Thalia shrugged, "Mira seemed to like you, and you seemed to like her."

"Trixie barely talked to her," Trixie scoffed.

Thalia nodded, before saying with a grin, "True, but you didn't seem in any rush to get away from her."

Trixie gave her a flat stare, "Trixie is guessing you don't think she's a princess."

"I was there when you were brought in," Thalia replied, "I know where you come from Miss Lulamoon – and I think meeting them would be good for you,"

"Them?" Trixie asked, "Or me?"

"Why not both?" Thalia replied with a shrug, "I'm a healer – I think of everyling. Come on."

Trixie watched the healer vanish up the stairs before, with a sigh, following after her.

It wasn't like she had anything else to do.

The hospital was much like she remembered it – curved black halls illuminated by brightly glowing crystals overhead. Every few dozen paces, arching do0rways led off the hall into larger chambers filled with gurneys or long tables or rows of shelves. The path Thalia led Trixie on spiraled and curved until they finally reached a large archway, the sign overhead identifying it in the strange runes of the changeling language. "And this is…?"

"The special treatment creche," Thalia replied as she led the way in, "Come on in."

Trixie followed her through the doors and was suddenly bowled over with the sound of at least a dozen children playing, running and talking. In one corner some sort of nurse looked up from a trio of swaddled nymphs that couldn't have been more then a few months old as Thalia approached her. In another corner, a gaggle of older nymphs were practicing their transformations, flashing between forms in flashes of green fire. Nearby, Trixie spotted Mira and a few others playing boardgames, reading books and casting looks at the other group with a mixture of annoyance and envy. It was the last group that noticed Trixie first, Mira looking away from the practice group as Trixie walked in and her face lit up, "Ah, Princess!" She turned to the other nymphs, "See! I told you there was a princess!"

At the word 'Princess', everyling turned around to look at Trixie. Mira wasted no time in rushing over to Trixie, the rest of her group following a few steps behind, "Princess, Miss Thalia said you knew stories!"

Trixie shot a glare Thalia's way, but presented suddenly with a attentive audience – even if it was a bunch of changelings – the showmare in her couldn't turn them down completely, "Trixie is one of the finest magicians in Equestria! Of course she knows stories." The burst of bravado made her feel more like herself then she had all week.

"Could you tell us one?" Mira asked, and the other nymphs around her quickly voiced their own agreement.

"She said she was a magician, right?" one of the older nymphs – one from the practice group – spoke up, "Let's see some magic!"

Other nymphs voiced interest, but Trixie couldn't miss Mira's crestfallen look, "Well – the first request was for a story," Trixie cut in, "So a story you shall get." The words were out of her mouth before she realized it, and the nymphs quickly closed in at the promise of a story.

"So, what are you going to tell us?" a nymph near the back spoke up – another of the older ones, "Some stupid pony story?"

Trixie shot him a sharp glare, "Trixie will do more then tell you a story," she took a deep breath as she dug deep into herself, and slowly her horn sparked to life. Whatever form she may be, some smug bug wasn't going to bad talk her kind. As her horn grew brighter, motes of light began to dance around her until the form of a mountain hung before her, wispy and ghost-like, "Trixie will weave for you a tale the likes of which you have never heard – a tale of ice and destruction, of discovery and desolation." As she spoke, the mountain was wrapped in whirling white ice and snow as a low, keening howl echoed forth, "For ponykind has been in this land for over two thousand years. Ponies have shaped it, molded it – and our claim was bought in fire and ice," Trixie grinned at the changeling as a wraith-like form peeled away from the mountain and slowly spiraled up overhead, "So, tell me, little changeling – what do you know of windigos?"

And so she told them of frozen wastes sweeping across the land, of the three tribes – on-and-off rivals, if not out-and-out enemies – forced to meet to find a way to survive. She told them of the grand migration, of the discovery of a new land, and the resulting feud that nearly plunged the new land into the same fate as the old. It was only the fluke of a trio of more honest souls that saved them all.

As she let the phantasm of a burning purple-red heart dissipate, she took in her little audience. They all stared at her in silence for a moment, until one of the older changeling's spoke up, "Now wonder the Queen wanted their love if it could defeat something like that…"

"The guiding principle of Equestria is that Love and Friendship can succeed where everything else has and will fail," Trixie replied with a nod, "Given the historical precedent, a wise sentiment. Ponies cannot survive without love."

"Kinda like us, huh?" Mira replied.

Trixie blinked in surprise at that before giving her a small smile, "Trixie supposes your right."

Any other questions were cut off as Thalia tapped her hooves behind the group, "Alright everyling – time for dinner now that the story time's over." As Thalia began to corral the gaggle out a side door, she turned to Trixie, "Care to join us? The kitchen here makes a great mushroom sauté."

Trixie shook her head, "Trixie should get going – she wouldn't want to take more of your time."

Thalia laughed at that, "That's my line! Please, feel free to drop in again sometime."

Trixie considered that for a moment before saying, "Trixie will remember that."

The former showmare-turned-changeling-princess found her own way out of the hospital, only to find the Queen waiting outside for her, "So," Chrysalis asked her, "Enjoy your walk?"

Trixie's gaze narrowed, "You planned this, didn't you?"

"Getting you out of that stupid room?" Chrysalis replied, "Obviously – but you coming here? My dear, I am good but I am not that good. Now – answer my question."

Trixie glared at her for another moment before sitting on the steps with a sigh, "It was… enlightening. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

"I wanted you to realize we are more then just the invaders of Equestria," Chrysalis replied as she stepped closer, "My people are dying, and if you are to be any help in preventing that I can't have you fearing them I need you to see them as..."

"Equine?" Trixie finished for her.

"Multi-dimensional," Chrysalis said with a shrug before turning away, "Now, come along."

Trixie raised an eyebrow, "What now?"

Chrysalis shot her back a look, "If you are going to be a changeling princess, I am going to at least make sure you can act the part. If that isn't to your liking, stay here."

The queen walked away without another word, and for a while Trixie just sat there.

And then, begrudgingly, she rose and followed after the Queen.