Elements of Disharmony part 9

>The warp parts before you, and you release the protective wards around your friends.

>This was not where you had intended to teleport to.

>You are immediately alert, scanning the dark room.

>You grip your swo-

>”Ah, I see you have arrived.”

>You can’t find where the voice was coming from, but you can tell immediately it was nearby.

>It almost sounded-

>”Good, good. I have been waiting a very, very long time to finally meet you, Anonymous of the Thousand Sons.”

>Alright, whatever it was that was talking, knew you.

>”But, please…”

>Candles are lit across the room, and you can see you are in your house.

>Not at all your target for the teleport.

>”Have a seat.”

>Your eyes adjust instantly, and you can tell that your living room is fully lit, save for one particular spot…

>You raise your sword, pointing at it, as you gather the warp.

”I don’t care what you are, but I demand you step forwards.”

>There is an echoing chuckle.

>”Do not try us, creature. We see you for what you are.”

>You look at Luna, who’s a shade paler.

>”Oh, forsooth?”

>There’s a creaking as the shadows themselves shift and pulse, before spitting forwards a humanoid figure, about six feet tall and totally concealed in a thick black robe.

>The only sign of anything inside those robes are two small green flames.

>You turn your hand towards the Necron and unleash a barrage of Doom Bolts.

 

>The robe sleaves do not show the creatures hands, but it raises one of them, a blue mist focused around its hand, and with a batting motion, the Doom Bolts falter and disperse harmlessly.

>Luna’s horn glows, as does Trixies.

>In a swirl of motion, glowing sigils form in the air, as, surprisingly, the glows violently falter.

>”Please, may we dispense with the hostilities? I can negate your capabilities all day if I-“

>Pinkie.

>Right the fuck out of nowhere.

>”Stop!”

>You look down at Pinkie, who’s practically sitting on your arm.

>How she got up there is a Mystery.

>Must be all the exercise she gets bouncing everywhere.

>”Thank you, Madame Pie.”

>Pinkie glares at the intruder.

>”Start saying words.”

>The figures hands are burrowed back within its robes.

>”Of course, but first I must request that I be allowed to sit. I have-“

>You cut him off.

“Now.”

>The figure pauses, and twitches.

>”As.. You wish, mighty Sorcerer.”

>It was slightly perturbed, but you couldn’t get a feel on this thing.

>It was about as expressive as a rock.

>Even its tone betrayed no emotion.

>If this wasn’t a Necron, you were a Hrud.

 

>”Where would you like me to begin? There is much to discuss.”

”What did you do to divert us here?”

>The witchfires in the eyes move, slightly.

>Hillrious, it tilted its head at you.

>”Explaining the ritual would take far too long. Instead, look up.”

>You look up, as instructed, and see scorch marks on your roof.

>What in the hell?

>”It was a simple trap. The moment anything attempts to Teleport-“

>The runes come alight with shifting colors, blues and greens dancing through them.

>”-They are diverted here. Next question?”

>You look at this thing.

>You wanted to ask “Have I turned into a Hrud?”

>Instead, you think of something more productive.

“Explain to us what you want.”

>The figure cocks its head in the other direction.

>”Isn’t it obvious, Anonymous?”

>There are no words passed for a tense few seconds, before, with a sigh, the figure finishes.

>”I want you.”

>There is a lengthy pause.

>Then, a whirlwind of talking.

>”Hold on there, stranger, what do you want Anon for? We kinda need-“

>”-has been a Champion of the Realm, above and beyond what anyp[spoiler][/spoiler]ony could expect-“

>”-Still hasn’t taught me how to do anything more advanced than just a basic Doom Bolt!”

>The figure simply looks at you.

>You look back.

“When the Warp swallows the Galaxy. Then, I’ll come with you.”

>The three friends silence themselves almost instantly when you begin to talk.

>You glare daggers out at this… thing, from behind your helmet.

>”Despite the fact that your Ponyville is clean of Eldar?”

>”What do you mean.. Clean?”

>Luna almost looks as white as Celestia.

 

 

 

>The figure stands, before motioning to the door.

>”Simply gaze outside, and you shall see.”

>Luna doesn’t move.

>”You.. You..”

>Luna doesn’t move.

>”You.. You..”

>”Yes. I did. And now they rise from their shallow graves to serve me. Does that answer your question?”

>You had only ever seen Nurglite plagues raise the dead, before.

>Never before had you seen something in this condition that could command the dead.

>The figure draws closer and finally you can see some features.

>The lights dancing in the hood are small fires, set within what you guess to be a human skull.

“If I were to come with you, what-“

>”Would I give in return? It’s simple, really. I will not give you the Farseer, nor shall I interfere any further.”

>It fidgets in the furrows of its robe, looking up at you.

>”I have knowledge, more knowledge then you could possibly fathom, all there, open to you, if you but aid me. Once the Eldar have been dealt with, I shall collect you.”

>The creature crosses its hands behind its back and walks past you, towards the door.

>” I do not expect you to abandon your friends, Anonymous, but I require your aid.”

>It turns to look at you.

>”It is your choice if it is given willingly.”

>It raises a finger to its mouth, and there is a slight ‘blowing’ sound, as all the candles in the room go out.

>Its green eyes linger, for a moment, before going out.

>Even you had to admit, that was well executed.

 

>You return to the land of the Living with a flourish of shadows.

>Shermanator looks up, grinning his shit eating grin.

>In his hands is a pie, a fork stuffed in his mouth.

“Shermanator, did you properly pay for that confection?”

>”Nuh, buh ah pud sum monnhay in th’ registger.”

>You sigh

“Swallow before you speak, you troglodyte.”

>He takes an almost painful gulp.

>”Sorry. I paid for it, don’t worry Mr Bones.”

“My name is not Mr Bones.”

>”Skeletor.”

”My name is not Skeletor.”

>He eyes you wearily.

>You catch his meaning immediately, and glare at him.

“My name is not the Witch-King of Angmar either.”

>He nods, forking another load of pie into his mouth.

>”Hokay, just checkin.”

>You leave him, and head deeper into your makeshift lodgings, an abandoned cave, sitting down cross-legged.

>Soon, very soon, you would leave this place, and take this Sorcerer with you.

>All he needed to do was finish some business.

>Your part here was played.

>The pieces were set.

>Now?

>You simply had to wait to act.

>You feel a soft hand run up your ribcage, and return to the present, looking up to see a clean face on your shoulder.

>Very clean.

“My dear, I take it you were successful?”

>Green bile gurgles from her mouth as she clears her airways.

>”Yes, master. I have ensured everything is as you require.”

>You gently cup your beautiful child’s face, and return her gentle affections.

>The Brotherhood of the Grave forsake none, a fellowship that was denied to her when she once lived.

>If you felt true love for anything, it was a slight, fatherly connection to your tools.

 

>And so you waited.

>Your newest acquisition simply stayed in the darkness when the Pugilist was around.

>For the later part of the night, events proceeded fairly evenly.

>The Flayed Ones hunted, and were destroyed as the Sorcerer and his allies fought to the Farseer.

>You watched from the darkness as the final battle took place.

>In the midsts of the battle, the Farseer slipped away, attempting to escape from the brewing danger.

>He retreated to his Lords inner chamber, ready to sell his life.

>You chose now to strike.

>The darkness in the entry chamber darkens.

>The halls grow longer as chittering things claw at reality.

>The shadows lunge and writhe.

>Faces scream out as horrors not meant for reality struggle to get through.

>In the deepest of the darkest shadows, a familiar figure slowly limps out.

>A Warp Spider, a gaping wound in its chest, falls to its knees, blood oozing from the hole.

>”F.. Farseer… We… We have..”

>The Farseer recognizes the voice, and recoils.

>”You… You should be-“

”Dead?”

>You set a skeletal hand on his shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin.

”You should know well enough, such a fate is denied as long as I yet reign.”

>The illusion dispels to the Spiders cackling laughter as she rises, the false armor fading, the purple blood turning a fizzling green.

”Enjoy yourself, my dear. He is all yours.”

>With a famished screech, the undead Eldar leaps upon the Fallen Farseer, her acidic blood oozing from her muscles, melting everything it touched.

>It was a scream of physical hunter, but also one for retribution.

>She had been spent like a “Mon’Keigh”.

 

>You move through the darkness, cackling excitedly as you strut your stuff.

>These Necrons were flippin’ beautiful.

>They were everything you could ever want in perfect minions.

>They were dumb shit

>Tough.

>Got back up when killed

>Didn’t care if they stepped in something!

>Oh, this was magnificent.

>You grab one through the darkness, and drag it into the Nether.

>Wraiths set upon it, dismantling it for later study.

>You return to the physical world, and wish you had a face for the first time in a while.

>The Warriors don’t even notice you, to them, you’re invisible.

>You lean on one, and watch contently as the fight takes place.

>Between watching the Farseer get torn apart by your pawn, the Necrons moving with perfect precision, and Celestia’s screams of pain…

>Oh, this was a perfect world.

>You would have to return here some day and conquer this Universe.

>From what you have seen, it would be quite the fun experience.

>Until then, you simply watch and wait, occasionally sending a Necron falling into the abyss of the nether, mostly on a whim.

>It was fun hearing their metal be shorn apart from the shadows all across Equestria.

>You watch absently as you hear a metallic clanking to your side.

“Finally bothered to come and see what the fuss was?”

>You look over at the Overlord, who watches below with you.

>”I can tell you are here, yet cannot locate your position. Tell me why.”

>You rise and stand infront of him.

“I do not wholly exist in this realm. I exist, one foot in and one foot out, so to speak.”

>It thinks for but a fraction of a second.

>”You are no creature of the Warp.”

>You liked this guy.

 

“No. I am from another dimension, one which has no interest in the Material. The Nether.”

>The Lord begins to walk away, and you walk with him.

”Tell me, are you afraid? Knowing you are about to die, at long last?”

>The Lord does not respond.

“I was too, the first time. But I’ve died a lot. I thought I was above fear, too.”

>You remember the second time you truly died.

“It was… Interesting, to know that not even power can stop death. It put perspective on things.”

>”And you think I view it differently.”

>It was a statement, not a question.

“Oh, I know you do. You see, you never even faced your first real death. How could you understand it?”

>You stop him, mostly with some arcane magic, but also with a hand on his shoulder.

“You cannot stop him. No matter what plan you have in place, no matter what stratagem. You will fail.”

>”And, why would that be, Phantom?”

>He looks in the direction of your hand.

>You simply release your grip.

“Because, you cannot cheat death forever. And I do so dislike being cheated.”

 

>A few days had passed sense your engagement with the Necrons.

>Shermanator had sense returned to the tower, content to await your return.

>It was now you decided to approach the Sorcerer.

>You wait until mid-day, simply to get the drop on him.

>You find him in the Ponyville market, browsing various random items.

>The Nether hides you well enough, but you need to get closer.

>You jump into his shadow, hanging just on the edge of control.

>Tenuous grip, yes, but you did not wish to alert him.

>Not yet.

 

“I hope you’ve enjoyed your time.”

>You whisper in his ear, just another shadow walking alongside his own.

>You slowly rise from the darkness of an untended stall, and come to a stop facing him.

“I hope you have been considering my offer.”

>He clanks to a stop, and pauses, before looking down at you.

>”You have no reason to return me here, should I come with you. Even if I did, this is my place.”

>You tilt your head.

“Perhaps.”

>You snap your fingers, and your staff melts into existence.

“But that can change in an instant.”

>You produce a pale, almost clay-colored pendant.

”Do you recognize this?”

>He nods

>”That would be… How did you get that?”

“This is what will befall your world unless you help me. There is a threat that will sap the life and color from your entire world. It shall become a void of personality and life.”

>You extend the butterfly pendant.

“Sorcerer, I will be frank with you. Your entire world is at risk. Your friends, your ponies, even your very life as you know it.”

>You put it into his hand where is begins to vibrate and shimmer.

“Come with me. I will answer every question you have, show you knowledge beyond whatever you could imagine, if you only help me.”

>After a long pause, the Sorcerer looks up.

>”Deal.”