Planescape: Equestria 6

>You set off through the darkened woods as Pinkie does her thing.
>Twilight leads the way again, following a wide trail which – if those ruins really used to be the royal palace – must once have been a grand avenue approaching it.
>Cracked paving stones jut up here and there amidst the roots and undergrowth.
>By the time Pinkie Pie has finished singing you can’t help but feel comprehensively welcomed to Equestria.
“Thanks Pinkie,” you smile. “It’s too bad that you ponies didn’t get such a lavish welcome in Sigil. If you ever visit again, I’ll try to have Shemmie do a musical number.”
>It’s bad form to laugh at your own jokes, but you can’t help a wide grin at the thought of Shemeska the Marauder capering with a top hat and cane as she sings to an audience of pastel-coloured ponies.
>Pinkie Pie’s grin matches your own, whilst the other ponies’ reactions range from amused to horrified.
>Rarity in particular blanches visibly.
“That dreadful lady of the canine visage and the negligee that appeared to have been stitched together from scavenged table doilies in order to just barely preserve the last vestige of modesty, for a woman half her size?”
>Your grin breaks into full-throated laughter.
“That’s the one.”
“Then it’s thoughtful of you, darling, but I’ll have to decline. I fear that if I were to witness the quakings and… jigglings… that her dancing would entail, I would be unable to ever look at a blancmange again without reliving the psychic trauma.”
“Hahahaha… but, if you think that outfit was horrifying, you should see what revelations come to light when she wears tight fitting pants.”
>Rarity chokes back a giggling fit.
“I think I would prefer not to speculate…”
“That might be best.”
>Spike and Fluttershy look confused and embarrassed respectively and Twilight just looks distracted, whilst everyp0ny else joins in the laughter.
“What exactly was she, Anonymous?” Twilight asks after a moment. “I’ve never read of any jackal-headed humanoid people.”
“An Arcanaloth,” you reply. “It’s an order of Yugoloth...”
>Nope, she clearly doesn’t know what that is.
“…which is a type of fiend…”
>… or that, somehow.
>You look around and realise that none of these ponies have ever heard of a fiend. They really must be sheltered.
“…which is to say, a being of incarnate Evil, native to the Outer Planes.”
“…okay,” Twilight nods as she finally gets a handle on something. “But if she’s pure evil, how come she’s just allowed to come and go in Sigil? I wasn’t able to find any reference material for Sigil, but from what Princess Celestia told me, it’s supposed to be like a neutral ground, isn’t it? A safe place for everyone?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say safe. Neutral, yep… but that is to say, anybody, from the highest-and-mightiest Archon to the cruellest and most bloodthirsty Tanar’ri, is free to come and go in Sigil. Everybody except the Powers – that is, the gods. They’re barred.”
“Hmm.” Twilight mulls that over.
>It really is odd that this pony, who seems to be educated and intelligent, is so totally and utterly Clueless.
“Has nobody – that is to say, nop0ny – ever travelled the planes and returned to tell about it?” you ask. “Are there no books about the planes?”
>Twilight shakes her head.
“Hardly anything like that,” she says sadly. “A few scholars have always speculated that there are other planes of existence, but nop0ny has ever successfully travelled to any of them before. Until us!”
“But if that portal has always been there in that castle, and the portal key was known…?”
“…yes, I wondered about that too,” she says quietly. “Princess Celestia was able to tell us a bit about Sigil, and what we should expect there, as well, so… perhaps she travelled there, when she was the sole bearer of the Elements of Harmony? Or when she and Luna bore them together... but either way, they didn’t publish any of their findings.”
>You nod thoughtfully.
“Perhaps they just wanted to protect you.”
>She looks pretty annoyed by that idea, but seems to accept it as a possibility, even if it’s not one she likes.
“But then why send us now?”
“Yup, that’s the question. Hopefully we’ll learn the dark of that tomorrow.”

“So wait,” Rainbow Dash cuts in. “This evil jackal lady, who everyone knows is evil, just, like, walks around Sigil doing evil stuff the whole time, and nobody has kicked her tail for it yet?”
“Sort of,” you say with a smile at Dash’s summary. “She’s powerful, and has a lot of jink to throw around – that is to say, she’s massively rich – and she has some formidable allies too. That’s a combination that lets you get away with an awful lot in Sigil. Or most other places.”
>Dash frowns.
“That’s all horseapples,” she declares. “Somep0ny needs to teach her a lesson.”
“If there were ponies in Sigil, maybe somep0ny would. But not a lot of folk on the planes see things that way, and the ones that do oftentimes don’t live long enough to get strong enough to teach a blood like Shemeska anything much. She’s been around for  – well, nobody can say, but she’s been active, spinning her schemes and getting her fingers in everybody’s pies, for at least a couple of millennia.”
“That’s a lot of pies,” Pinkie says, impressed.
“Scheming for what?” Twilight asks. “Just to hurt people, and garner more power and more money?”
“That’s about the size of it – spinning schemes for their own sake is pretty much the nature of Arcanaloths, I guess. They dabble in everything going, and eventually maybe they find the one peel that’s deep enough to get them to the top of the Yugoloth ladder - to become an Ultroloth.”
“Oh! They sound just like our sisters, plotting to get their cutie marks,” Rarity says to Applejack with a wry smile.
“Right,” Applejack laughs. “Except maybe fer the ‘pure evil’ part. Maybe.”
>It’s your turn to look blank.
“You’ve noticed the marks on our flanks, I’m sure,” Rarity says by way of explanation to you. “…not that I’m implying you’d be crude enough to go around staring at mares’ flanks, or anything.”
>She looks at you, blinking ingenuously, just the slightest hint of mischief playing in her smile.
“Oh, why yes,” you say with an exaggerated air of innocence, leaning in to peer inquisitively at Rarity’s hindquarters. “Now that you mention it I suppose you do have some kind of marks visible there, if one were to look.”
>She flicks her tail playfully at your head, swatting you away.
“Quite, well, there’s no need to launch a detailed study now. In any case, those are our cutie marks. Everyp0ny gets one as they grow up – it’s a rite of passage, you could say. A pony’s cutie mark represents their special talent or calling in life. Well, my little sister, Sweetie Belle - and Applejack’s, Apple Bloom, and their friend Scootaloo – don’t have their cutie marks yet, so they’ve taken to racing around Ponyville causing all sorts of havoc in their attempts to earn them.”
“Ah.” You smile. “I see the comparison. But unless they start trying to earn cutie marks for negotiating mercenary contracts or seeking ancient and horrifying occult secrets, I wouldn’t worry too much.”
“Don’t you go givin’ ‘em any ideas,” Applejack says hurriedly.
>Soon you leave the remains of the ancient avenue behind and find yourself following smaller and more winding paths and trails that lead you on through the thick forest.
>Conversation mostly dies out as the going gets harder and you are all forced to focus on your surroundings so as not to twist an ankle or blunder into a cobweb.
>Some of the cobwebs around here are distressingly large.

>Twilight still lights the way with her horn, but she looks frequently to Fluttershy for direction. The yellow pegasus seems quietly self-assured in these matters of navigation, and you guess she must know the forest pretty well.
>Pinkie Pie hums happily to herself as your band treks on into the night.
>You walk for several hours, passing many points of interest along the way including a river where an enormous serpent slumbers peacefully coiled in the shallows, its carefully groomed moustache rising and falling with the rhythm of its snores.
>You’ve seen some shit in your time, but this would be the first moustachioed serpent.
>If a berk ever thinks that the planes have nothing left to surprise him with, he’s addle-coved, and that’s that.
>Some time after that, you come to a small clearing in the forest where a large slab or lump of worked stone seems to be lying in the thick grass over to one side.
>Curiosity kicks in and you drift over that way for a closer look.
>It looks like a humanoid statue, newly made and undamaged but half buried in the grass.
>The grass around hasn’t had time to grow up over it yet, and there’s no moss or lichen on its surface.
>It’s just lying there.
>You call the ponies over, and soon all of you are standing around regarding the statue.
>They seem just as confused as you are about where this thing could have come from.
“There are no humanoids native to this plane, right?” you ask.
“No, none,” Twilight says in a tone of puzzlement. “We have myths and legends about humanoid creatures, but as far as I know nop0ny has seen one in Equestria until you and Mercy came through the portal today.”
“Someone could have made a statue based on the myths and legends, though?”
“I suppose so, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen one before.”
“The proportions seem a bit odd, especially the legs. I don’t think it’s meant to be a human, or if it is then it’s not very accurate. Here, help me roll it over and get a better look.”
>Applejack and Rainbow Dash help you heave at one side, while Pinkie Pie bounces helpfully around occasionally nudging the statue with a hoof or her nose.
>Soon the statue rolls over, flattening more of the tall grass and revealing a strange face with a broad forehead, upturned nose and four horns – two straight ones sticking straight up from the top of its brow, and two curved ones like a goat’s towards the sides of its head.
>Its stone hair flares straight upwards and out and then tapers like a candle flame atop its head.
“…dabus,” Twilight says.
>You look to her with surprise.
“Princess Celestia warned us about them,” she explains a bit sheepishly. “She said that they’re the right hooves… er, hands… of the Lady of Pain, who runs Sigil, and that whatever we do we shouldn’t interfere with them or give them any trouble.”
“So I tried to help one with the hammering he was doing on our way to meet you,” Pinkie chips in, “but then Rainbow and Applejack jumped on me and dragged me down the street because they said I was going to interfere, but I wasn’t go to interfere, I was going to help, which is the opposite of interfering.”
“Except when it isn’t. But the question is, what is a statue of a dabus, of all things, doing out here in the forest?”
“Umm… I don’t think that’s a statue,” Fluttershy says with her usual timidity.
>You give her an inquisitive look.
“I think that’s a real dabus that got turned to stone.”

“Oh… yes yes yes,” Twilight jumps on the idea. “That makes a lot more sense. If it was a statue, who would have made it, and how did it get here? It doesn’t add up. But if a real dabus was here, and ran into a cockatrice…”
“But… what was the dabus doing here, then?” you interrupt. “I mean… dabus don’t leave Sigil. It simply doesn’t happen. I’m not even sure if they’re capable of it.”
“But aren’t they the Lady of Pain’s servants?” Twilight asks. “What if she wanted to send… a spy? Or an ambassador?”
“She doesn’t,” you say simply, with a shrug. “I mean, she’s never been known to do that. In all the untold millennia that Sigil has existed and she’s been its keeper, there’s not one single instance of her sending a dabus, or anybody else, outside the Cage on her behalf.”
“Hmm…” Twilight doesn’t look all that convinced.
>You think for a moment.
“If, hypothetically, this is a petrified dabus… do we have access to spells that could set him right?” you ask.
“I don’t know of any magic that could do that,” Twilight says sadly. “The only way to undo a cockatrice’s petrifying gaze is to get the cockatrice to take it back.”
>You’re pretty sure that isn’t true, but without a sufficiently powerful spellslinger around to show Twilight a Stone to Flesh spell, it’s kind of irrelevant.
>More to the point…
“They can do that?”
“Yep! I fell foul of a cockatrice myself once, but Fluttershy persuaded him to fix me.”
“…persuaded?”
“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy says humbly. “He was just a little bit rambunctious, and didn’t really understand that ponies have feelings too and don’t like to be made into rocks. He needed some boundaries, that’s all.”
>You blink.

“Right. So… if a cockatrice did this, and we can find it, do you think you could… err… set it some boundaries, Fluttershy?”
“Oh, yes. But there are a lot of cockatrices in the forest.”
“Okay, well, we can look into that another time I guess. For now… this sod is too heavy to carry, and I don’t s’pose he’s going anywhere.  Shall we carry on?”
>The ponies nod, and you get back on your way.
>About a half hour after that, as the horizon is beginning to blush pink with the coming dawn, you finally come to the edge of the forest.
>In the middle distance you can see the darkened silhouettes of the sleeping town that must be Ponyville.
>It looks surprisingly similar to a humanoid settlement, reminding you in particular of the kind of rural idyll that appeals to Halflings and the like.
>You’re soon at Fluttershy’s cottage, a homely little building with a thatched roof and carefully tended gardens surrounding it.
>One by one the other ponies take their leave to go and snatch a few hours of sleep, agreeing to meet at midday to make arrangements for the trip to Canterlot.
>Fluttershy first leads Mercy to a sizeable wooden construction, something like a stable, not far from her house.
“I think this will be the best place for you, Mercy,” she says sweetly. “Applejack helped me build it a while ago when I found a hurt manticore in the forest and had to nurse his poor little leg until he was healthy again.”
>You maintain a poker face.
“But don’t worry, there are no manticores here now! There’s plenty of room, and you can get all nice and comfy in the hay over here. There are some blankets, and here is your water if you get thirsty. Are you hungry?”
>The enormous armoured man shakes his head happily, already snuggling up in his blankets and hay, looking perfectly content.
“All right, wonderful. Are you warm enough?”
>Mercy nods, his eyes already closing.
“Then it looks like we’re all set. Come along Anonymous, let’s get you settled in as well.”
>She leads you to the cottage and you carefully wipe your feet before stepping inside.
>It looks exactly like a human’s cottage would.
>How weird.
>Everything is very neat and tidy, and there is a pleasant smell of dried flowers.
>Several small critters are sleeping peacefully curled up here and there on her furniture.
>Fluttershy is trotting and, true to her name, fluttering about, fetching blankets and quilts, forming them into a comfy-looking nest on her living room floor.
“I hope this will be okay, Anonymous,” she says, whispering even more quietly than normal. “Angel bunny is sleeping on the sofa and he gets so cranky if I wake him.”
>You smile and nod.
“Can I get you anything? You look chilly, would you like some hot cocoa?”
>… hot cocoa? A pony is going to make you hot cocoa? This you have to see.
“That sounds great,” you say.
>She bustles around in the kitchen for a few minutes warming up milk and shaking powdered cocoa into a big clay mug.
>Even though you’re watching her do it, you don’t really understand how she’s manipulating this stuff with her hooves.
>Probably best not to think about it.
>The cocoa is sweet and hot and delicious.
“Thanks a lot, this is perfect.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure. Are you all set?”
“Looks like it.”
“Goodnight then, try to get some sleep now, we need to be up again in a few hours.”
“Goodnight, Fluttershy.”
>You snuggle up in the blankets provided and get comfy with your hot cocoa.
>Tomorrow you meet a pony Princess.
>That is to say, another pony Princess.
>This has been a fucking weird day.
>Not bad, though.