Family of the Black Moon (Rewrite planned)

>You are Anonymous, the Argonian.

>Some may call you an average, run of the mill lizard-man.

>What those that do don’t know is that you were the one who assassinated both Jarl Igmund of Markarth and Jarl Siddgeir of Falkreath, then hung their heads on the inn in Dawnstar.

>Ah, you remember the day you joined the Dark Brotherhood.

>It was shortly after the assassination of the Emperor of Tamriel.

>And it was wonderful.

 >Your life as of then has been assassination after assassination.

>You’ve killed rebellious peasantry for cruel nobles, and cruel nobles for rebellious peasantry

>Farmers, Vampires, Chefs, Dragon worshippers, Khajiit warlords, you’ve killed them all.

>The blood that is shed at your hands more than satiates your lust for killing.

>And the gold is nice bonus.

>However, the assassination orders are few and far between now, and it’s been a while since you’ve had a “fun” kill.

>Which is why you were ecstatic when the night mother mentioned a “new hunting ground for her child.”

>You’re currently meeting that insane jester Cicero at the shrine of Mehrunes Dagon for a map and instructions.

>“Ah Anonymous! The listener and I think you’ll find this to your liking.”

>With that he hands you a map of a castle, a note, a pendant with a darkened crescent moon, … and a dagger in your neck.

>You should have known not to trust that treacherous bastard after what you heard about the Falkreath sanctuary.

>Well, what’s done is done.

>You’ve always wondered how your victims felt, getting their life ended quickly at your hands.

>It looks like now you know.

>“Sleep now child, Sithis still requires you…”

 

>You awaken in a sweat, noticing the cold, smooth floor beneath you.

>You appear to be in a castle of some sort.

>Perhaps you weren’t sent to the void, but a plain of oblivion?

>No… unlikely. The only realm of Daedric Prince you know of whose realm doesn’t smell like Elven nether regions is Sheogorath’s, and this place is FAR too orderly for the likes of him.

>Maybe Sithis sent you to a new realm, unknown to Nirn?

>“Read Cicero’s note my child.”

>Note: “Dear Anonymous, I apologize for staining your favorite pair of gloves with mead. Oh, and about the whole ‘knife-in-neck thing’. No hard feelings? Anyways, meet with a lady by the title of ‘Princess Luna’, and begin your new family. Use the map to get to her, try not to kill her guards, and wear the pendant before you enter her chamber. Have fun! Love, Cicero”

>You may regret listening to that maniacal bastard, but you have nothing better to do.

>And with that, you don the necklace, and begin heading towards your destination.

>Either Luna had shoddy security, or she was expecting you.

>You open the door to what you presume to be her living quarters when a voice rings out of a room.

“Ah, you’re here. Please, do come in.”

>with that, you enter a lavish room with a beautiful bed… and a horse.

>Are those wings? And is that a horn? And by Ysmir’s beard those eyes are big.

 “Princess Luna, why do you have your steed in your room? Though might I say your mount is quite beautiful, I’ve never seen a horse like this before.”

>“I’ll have you know I’m not a horse, or anyone’s mount. I do appreciate the compliment though.”

>By Sithis! This is the Mad God’s realm!

> “You must be the one your “mother” spoke to me of. Follow me, we have much to discuss.”

 

>You have been talking to this “Princess of the night” for what feels like several Eras.

>In this time, she has given you a rundown of this realm, ‘Equestria’ as it’s called.

>It’s a shame that the only other “Alicorn” is Luna’s sister, they seem like they would be fun challenges.

>At least their dragons seem as vicious. Though, they don’t sound like the Children of Akatosh, so maybe they will actually stay dead.

>You especially like the prospect it sounds like these “Griffons” propose.

>“So that’s the basics of the land. You’ll be utilizing your skills much the same way, but with a two main differences. The first is that I’ll be acting in place of your “Night Mother.” And the second is, while you will be paid for your “services”, your targets will be those that threaten harmony, not merely hired killings. Do you accept?”

“Killing is killing, no matter the reason. In the end all are sent to the void.”

>“I’ll take that as a yes. Welcome to the Family of the Black Moon, brother. Here are your first three targets.”

>With that you open the envelopes Luna passed you, and have only one thing to say.

“Interesting…”

 

2:

>You sit on the cliffs overlooking Canterlot, looking over your contracts.

>It’s quite a beautiful city at night.

>Let’s see. Target Numero Uno: The griffon Gilda Longfeather of Cloundsdale. To be killed for the crime of blah-blah you can’t find a fuck to give. Time to complete: 5 days.

>Wonderful, you didn’t think you would get to kill a griffon so soon.

>But shit, isn’t Cloudsdale that sky-city?

>Ah well. You’ll find a way, always do.

 

>It’s been three damn days since you first started observing Cloudsdale.

>You swear it’s at least twice as high as High Hrothgar.

>You’ve spotted your target flying to and fro occasionally, blissfully ignorant of her eminent demise.

>Eminent, if it were not for your three problems.

>The first is merely getting up there. It’s at-least several thousand feet high, and last time you checked, you didn’t have wings.

>The contract suggested finding a mage that could give you them, but that would catch too much attention for your taste.

>They’re also fragile as a Dark Elf’s skull from what you could tell.

>From the ground it’s way too far to fire an arrow, but according to Luna only certain species can cloud-walk. Which brings you to your second problem, staying up there long enough to strike.

>Perhaps there’s an alteration spell for it, but you never gave a shit about it, being more of a destruction man yourself.

>Why make diamonds out of rocks when there are targets to torch? Shit just doesn’t make sense.

>Your sure you could blast apart the whole damn city with fireballs, but one of the Family’s rules is not to kill so called “innocents”.

>You never had to put up with this kind of stuff in the Brotherhood, but at least you’re killing again.

>Your final problem is merely a slight complication.

>From what you’ve observed, Griffons are like flying Orks as far as strength goes, you can’t tell yet about how bright they are.

>And your target should be no exception, which means you can’t just charge in there with a dagger when she’s alone and guarantee your survival.

>Wait... someone’s coming

>“Ha-ha yeah! Hey, did you hear? That bitch Gilda is taking another trip to Ponyville soon.

>“Maybe she’ll fly to close to the Everfree like usual and some monster will grab her this time.”

>“Hopefully.”

>And maybe, that monster will be you.

>Looks like you’re going camping.

>The Everfree can’t be that bad, right?

 

>This place is worse than the Black Marsh!

>There’s some beast ready to fuck you up every step you take, and the water’s so foul you can’t swim in it, let alone hide under that muck and still breathe.

>You think you even saw a hydra.

>You hope this target’s valuable enough of a kill to be worth this living hell.

>It’s taken you four days longer than it likely would have any other kill.

>Wait… What’s that sound?

 “…And when I get that pink bitch, I’ll gut her and celebrate with some grilled horse meat…”

>You ready an arrow.

>Steady…

>Steady…

-Twang-

>…

“FUUUUU-“

 

>You are Gilda, and you were about to go wreak that pink whore’s shit.

>But now, you’re trying to find out what in the name of Celestia flew by your head.

“-UUUCK!”

>The buck was that?

>Is that… a giant gecko in a leather bodysuit?

>And it looks like he’s trying to shoot you down!

>Pinkie can wait.

>You got prey to catch.

 

>By Sithis, you never miss!

>No matter, you’ll just off her with another arrow before she spots you.

>…

>she already has.

>And she looks angrier than Mehrunes being raped by Molag Bal.

>You’ve never seen anything natural fly that fast!

>You ready another shot.

-Twang-

>“I’ll kill you dweeb!”

>Damn it, another miss. You’ve gotten rusty.

>This time it at least hit her in the arm, and it goes limp, putting some drag on her.

>You haven’t a clue what you hit to cause that, the closest you’ve gotten to an anatomy class was the times you blew your victims to itty-bitty pieces.

>She’s nearing you to fast to get off another shot, so you toss the bow aside and draw your dagger.

>Nice job, you just tossed your bow into the swamp, great. Now when this is over you’ll have to swim in that shit.

>Gilda tries to go for your neck with her good talon.

>She missed, but barely. She still got your shoulder pretty good.

>It seems your armor is shit against griffon talons.

“Ha… it’s been a while since someone managed to get a hit on me. Maybe this Equestria will be a nice challenge after all.”

>Gilda lunges at you, this time trying to go for a slice by flailing her bad arm towards your head while jabbing at your stomach with her good arm.

>She’s quick, but this time you’re ready and get a good slice along her belly.

>“YOU BASTARD!”

>She comes at you again and again, with powerful swipes that you’re sure could separate your head from your shoulders.

>And as before, you’re ready to dodge and parry her attacks.

>This time, you manage to slash her other arm and jab at a wing

>Damn, you got lucky with that hit, but now she’s trying to weakly flee by air.

>You go to climb a tree to see which direction she takes off in.

>The stab you made to her wing must have been fairly damaging, as she crashes a short ways off.

>You take off after her, blade ready.

>You can’t find it in yourself to care about the creatures of the forest trying to eat you just an hour ago, this shit should have been over days prior.

>As you come across her body, you realize just how damned lucky you are.

>She’s completely uninjured from the crash, just damaged from your arrow and blade.

>Griffons must be made of tough shit.

>If she had any experience fighting, you’re positive you wouldn’t have survived that fight.

>“Pl-please... don’t kill me… w-why are you…?”

“Sithis demands it.”

>With that, you thrust the blade into her head.

>Looks like it’s time to go fishing for your bow.

 

3:

>You awaken.

>It’s been the first time in weeks you’ve gotten such a good night’s sleep.

>Taking lives always seems to have that effect on you.

>You grab your bag and pull out the next contract.

>Let’s see…

Contract two: “The Unicorn Prince Blueblood of Canterlot. Time to complete: two weeks after assignment. Head to the Sanctuary before you begin. The entrance is located in the old south-east sewage pipe beneath the palace. Pull the second to bottom branch on the tree to the northern side of the pipe to unlock the grate.”

>Strange... doesn’t have a crime listed. you thought Luna said, “no innocents”.

>Oh… wait…

Contract two: “Don’t let him bite you, or you may find your thirst for blood to be more… literal.”

>Great… he’s a vampire.

 

>“Ah, hello brother. Just on time. How is Gilda these days? Is she well?”

“Not anymore.”

>“Good, then the Element Bearers are safe, at least for a little while. But that’s not what you’re here for, is it? I take it you’re here about the Blueblood Contract.”

>No, really?

>“There are three things you will need. This potion, made to disguise you as a stallion, an invitation to Bluebloods garden party, and someone to go with you.”

>You would prefer to work alone…

“Who would that be?”

 

“… And furthermore”

>By the Nine! This unicorn is straight out of the depths of Oblivion!

>“…Trixie would prefer you to use her full title, The Great and Powerful!”

“Nope.”

>“If Trixie is to work with you, then that is not an option.”

“How about I call you The Annoying and Cuntiful…”

>“Quiet Lizard!”

“Drauger Whore!”

>“Off-Spring of a Retarded Dragon!”

“Sanguine’s Daedric Ball Sweat!”

>“Oversized Igua-“

>“WE HATH WITHSTOOD ENOUGH OF THY BICKERING!!”

>Holy shit! Luna can use the Thu’um!

>“You will work together, and that is not an option! And at least try to get along…”

“Fine…”

>“Fine…”

>“Now, here’s the plan…”

 

>“You’ve been sharpening that blade for over an hour. Just how Celestia-damn sharp does it need to be?”

“How hard is a vampire unicorn’s horn to cut off?”

>“By Luna’s night! Were here to kill the bastard, not torture him!”

“I plan to after he’s dead. Don’t plan on getting that close to a live vampire.”

>“Why?”

>You show her a talon you cut off of Gilda.

“I like to keep a ‘souvenir’ from each kill.”

>“That’s disgusting.”

“To each their own. And you never answered my question.”

>“Very sharp. Now hurry up and drink the potion, we have almost arrived.”

>Trixie floats a vial over to you, from which you take a hefty swig.

>Oh god… this swill burns your everything.

>Suddenly, you feel as if your body is being compressed into the size of a coin by a troll.

“OH GOD THE PAIN! STENDDAR SHARE YOUR MERCY!”

>And just like that, it stops.

>“Ok, looking good. Trixie doesn’t see any missing limbs.”

>Wait what?

 

>“Now put your stuff in my bag till we get inside, Trixie will see you at the rendezvous.”

>You go to grab your things…

>Wait... no hands…

“How?”

>“What do you mean how? Just put the damn stuff in here!”

“I don’t know how!”

>“Damn it, does Trixie have to do everything for you?”

>She proceeds to magic everything off of you and teleports away.

>Wait… you thought teleportation was lost towards the end of the third era.

>You’re going to have to ask her to teach you that…

>The chariot stops, and the puller calls back to you.

>“Ok here we are!”

>You climb out

>Well more of stumble, By Sithis it’s hard to walk on four legs.

>You must look like you’re already hammered on arrival.

>“Invitation?”

“I have it right he…”

>Damn it, Trixie took EVERYTHING off you.

>You look around.

>No one.

>Ah well, can’t kill bystanders, but no rules against knocking them out right?

 

>You make your way through the crowds of socializing royalty, drawing plenty of stares as you stumble your way across the room.

>Let them stare, it’s not like anyone here will recognize you after tonight.

>And hey, maybe some will find themselves at the wrong end of your bow later on.

>Finally you see the entrance to the basement.

>Shit, there’s a guard.

>“Sorry sir. Area’s other than the ball room and gardens are off limits to party guest.”

“Who ever said I’m a guest?

>“What?”

>With that, you turn and buck a vase into his head, knocking him on his ass.

>before he can recover, you slam him into the door… and keep going. Damn shoddy pony carpentry.

>You go to punch… kick the pony in front of you, only to be stopped by a light purple glow.

>“It’s me you idiot!”

“Sorry.”

>Suddenly, darkness.

 

>As your eyes adjust to the ambient light level, you notice three things:

>First, the guard is already bound and blindfolded.

>Second, The door is somehow fixed again. Probably from alteration magic.

>And third, Trixie is trying to force a bottle down your throat.

>“Drink it you idiot. It’s the antidote.”

“Antidote?”

>“Yeah. Three more hours and the Ponymorph poison would have turned your flesh inside out.”

“You’re joking…”

>“Nope, drink up.”

>At least that would explain the horrendous pain.

“Do you have my things?”

>“No, other than your dagger Trixie had to leave the rest outside.

>You daughter of a Falmer whore…

>“Did you spot Blueblood?”

“No, he’s not in the main room as far as I can tell.”

>“Damn, he wouldn’t be up stairs, so that must mean…

>You don’t like where this is going.

>“He must be in the catacombs beneath here.

>You definitely don’t like where this is going.

 

>You’ve been climbing through tunnel after tunnel, over countless equine skeletons…

>“Sweet Celestia… this place is disgusting.”

>Listening to Trixie’s non-stop whining.

>“Oh, I’m Luna, and I have a wonderful idea! Let’s send Trixie to her death with a giant, ugly lizard in a moldy old tomb owned by a vampire!”

“I’m right here you know…”

>“Trixie knows that, does she look dumb to you?”

“Than a Khajiit on skooma…”

>“humph! Go ahead and think that. Trixie doesn’t need you, perhaps she should-”

“Shhh… Do you hear that?”

>“What? Trixie hears nothing.”

“Voices up ahead. Sounds like two ponies.”

>“More guards?”

“Not down here, probably vampires.”

>You ready a fireball spell in one hand, with your other on your dagger.

>Trixie… does something with her horn.

>So long as she shuts up and makes herself useful, you don’t give a fuck.”

 

>The first pony, an earth pony, makes their way around the corner.

>Oh god, vampyric equines are ugly as Ork children.

>You almost regurgitate your lunch when the second, also an earth, makes his way around.

>He looks a lot better off, probably fed recently.

>You let loose your spell, striking the second in the head.

>Trixie… runs straight towards the first.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

>“Don’t doubt Trixie’s methods!”

>She lowers her head, going into a full on charge.

>The vampire bares her fangs, seeing the unicorn as an easy meal.”

>Right as it goes to sink her teeth into Trixie, she teleports.

>The vampire turns around, only to be met with a massive torrent of flame from her horn.

>“See? Do not doubt the Great and Powerful Trixie’s capabilities.”

“Wonder if we alerted any others.”

>“Probably.”

 

>Aside from the gut-wrenching pain, throwing yourself through a door, and Trixie not bringing your stuff, it’s your lucky day.

>The tunnels didn’t continue for much longer, and you only came across three more, all sleeping in their coffins.

“Well, this is the last door here. If Blueblood is still in these tunnels, this must be where he is.”

>You slowly open the door, and both of you slip through.

>Ah… there’s Blueblood.

>Interesting, he has a Pegasus Thrall

>By the Nine! He’s feeding on a child!

>Trixie looks as if she is ready to go into a fury.

>“Remember what Trixie said, about not torturing him?”

“Yeah?”

>“Forget it. Let’s make him suffer.”

>Hmm… the chamber is pretty large, but otherwise empty of people, save you, Trixie, blueblood, and that thrall. Blueblood looks fairly weak for a vampire, but that Pegasus is pretty powerful looking.

>“Trixie will take the walking corpse, you can handle Blueblood.”

“Fine by me. Say, can you teleport others also?”

 

>You find yourself falling through the air right above Blueblood…

“Surprise!”

>“Who’s there?”

>And land square on top of him, just as Trixie engages the thrall.

>“Unhand me you uncouth peasant!”

>He tries to buck you off.

“No thank you.”

>“I’ll enjoy taking your life then. I wonder what your blood taste of.”

>his horn gains that familiar glow that Trixie’s gets when she’s charging a spell.

“Nuh-uh-uh, no magic for you.”

>With that, you slice into his horn with your dagger.

>It only goes about a third of the way, so you snap it off with your hand.

>The pain and stress from losing his horn causes him to faint.

“Well that was depressingly easy.”

>You use his ridiculous garb as make-shift bindings, then go to check on Trixie.

>She’s managed to incinerate the thrall, but she’s currently worse for wear.

>Her cloak is torn in several places, she’s walking with a limp, and she has a nasty bite mark on her neck.

>“Why did you tie him up? Why not just kill him now?”

“You wanted him to suffer right?”

>“Trixie did say that, yes.”

“I have an idea...”

 

>You finish hoisting blueblood onto the pole by his hind legs.

>“Trixie loves it, not quite a fitting end for a child murderer, but just enough of an end.”

>“Let me down you filthy, commoner ruffians!”

“No thanks. But don’t worry, you won’t be up there much longer. Should be sunrise soon enough.”

>“let’s go get some drinks, first rounds on Trixie.”

 

4:

>You head through the doors of the bar, fiddling with the unicorn horn in your pocket.

>For something that feels so much like bone, it snapped off surprisingly easy.

>You’d rather have it something easier to break rather than having it be as strong as ebony.

>Then again, an ebony horn would be great for impaling someone’s heart…

>Ah, your dagger will still do.

 

>The both of you head down a short hallway and pass through a small doorway, into a room full of strange, colorful lights and a shifting sea of equines.

>By the nine, in the corner there even is a literal small sea of aquatic ones.

>What horrid fate did Mephala weave for you?

>”Where are you going Anonymous?”

“To the bar?”

>”No no, what backwater town are you from, Ponyville? They’ll serve you here at a table.”

“That’s stupid, it will take forever to get your damned drink then.”

>”Just sit down.”

 

>You take a seat on one of the cushions next to the table.

>Immediately, like magic, a stallion in a goofy black and white outfit arrives.

>Hell, it probably was one of their weird magics.

>He looks to Trixie and ask,” What can I get you?”

>”I think I’ll have a cider.”

>”And you?”

>You look down at the menu, only to realize you have no idea what in oblivion what is.

>Choosing just to take whatever you see first, you say,[spoiler][/spoiler] “I think I’ll have ‘The Strelnikov’.”

>”Ah yes, one of our finest drinks. I must warn you though,” he looks at you with slight concern,” It’s much stronger than many of the other drinks here, and not all species can handle it.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Heck, give me two.”

>Shocked, he replies, ”Are you mad? One is strong enough!”

“I said give me two,  now are you going to get me my drink or just stand there slack-jawed like a Khajiit looking at a chest?”

>”I-I’ll get it right away.”

 

>Within a short time the three drinks make their way two you.

>Trixies smells strongly of apples and alcohol, and yours… well you have no idea.

>Their smell alone could kill a dragon, and both have black stuff and a small metal object mixed in.

>You pick one up, pull out the metal, twirl it around a little, and throw the viscous liquid in your mouth.

>Which may be one of the worst ideas of your life.

“MEHRUNE’S DICK THAT BURNS!”

>Trixie giggles while sipping her “cider”.

>She already appears to be visibly flushed.

>”Well? Are you doing to drink the second?”

>You look at the glass, the second dose of poison almost mocking you.

>You notice the metal thing you pulled out of the other seems to have dissolved, and the drink itself is now eating away at the glass itself.

>”Come on, down the hatch, or are you too chicken?”

>You gulp, then lift the glass to your face.

>Your years as a cold killer have taught you to fear nothing, but this… this is suicidal.

>Lifting your head back, you down the drink as fast as you can.

>This one actually taste… good?

>Maybe it was something to do with that metal in it.

>”Hah! Trixie knew you could do it!”

“You honestly doubted me?”

>”Well when you made that face…”

“Shut it.”

 

>Within a short while the both of you are fairly drunk, Trixie seemingly being enough for a lightweight to only need two ciders.

>”-Hic-, hey… Anunmus…  Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

>”Come on… let’s go.”

“But where.”

>“Let’s just go.”

>The both of you get up, using each other for support.

>You look around the room, once more noticing once more in your stupor the Aquatic section of the bar.

>Slowly you pull Trixie towards it as you push your way through the socializing horses, only stopping when one of the strange lights hits your eyes.

>”Where are we going Anunmus?”

>You pick her up.

>”Anunmus?”

>And throw her.

>”ANONYMOUS!”

>She lands in the water, her splash upsetting a few of the flippered ponies by knocking the drinks over.

>You jump in after her before she surfaces, further angering them.

>You take a few breaths of water and surface, crying out with a voice comparable to the Dovahkiin’s,

“HEY! WHO THE FUCK PISSED IN THE WATER?”

>Two larger ponies come in the water after you and begin to drag the two of you out.

>”Ok, it’s time for you to go.”

>Deciding you’re having none of it, you grab a bottle of “Miro” from the bar and smash it over one’s head.

>He looks back at you with the fury of an angry Dremora.

>”What in Celestia’s name are you doing?”

>Well that didn’t work.

>Him and his friend drag you and Trixie out, tossing you into the street while yelling something about being barred from further entry.

>”Oh yea? Well fuck you! Fuck the system!”

 

>The two of you wander around the streets of Canterlot, the sun blaring in your eyes through flocks of Pegasi hanging up decorations.

“What’s going on?”

>”-Hic-, I think…. I think Nightmare Night is tonight…”

“And that is?”

>”Heh, everypone knows what Nightmare Night is…”

>Oh, ok.

>You must just be forgetting.

>The both of you keep heading off in any direction the alcohol so chooses, and the two of you find yourself in a garden filled with statues.

>You head over to checka interesting one, but stumble into a bush.

>”Anunnemus? Where’d yu go?”

>You don’t respond, rather finding the shade comfortable enough to doze off.

 

>You wake a few hours later, a cool, brisk wind waking you.

>Pulling yourself out of the bush while enduring a migraine that could knock an Ork dead, you realize you can’t recall how you got there, or for that matter, anything since leaving Blueblood to scorch in the sun.

>Oh well, you’ll just head back to the sanctuary.

>… if you could figure out where the hell you are…

>You wander around the garden, slightly unnerved by the statues, the moon’s light casting their shadows over the foliage.

>Not a sound is heard for what feels like eras, but in the distance you see a small light.

>You close in on it, careful not to alert whatever it may be, and begin to hear voices.

>Strange, dissonant sounds and moans can be heard.

>Slowly you edge closer,  weary not to be noticed.

>Eventually you get close enough to see.

>An occult ritual seems to be taking place, with creatures such as zombies, skeletons, and wraiths comprising the majority of participants.

 

>They shuffle around amidst ornately carved pumpkins and are illuminated by candle light and enchantments.

>One in particular stands out.

>What appears to have been a pony with a snow white coat and blue mane now shows heavy signs of decay, and is moving two disks on what looks to be an altar.

>She moves her head in strange ways, while the undead change their movements according to her changes in motion.

>It seems to be a lich, though only vaguely resembling one it’s the closest thing you can think of.

>You sneak around the outskirts of the ritual, using the low lighting to your advantage.

>Soon you’re behind the lich, and strike.

>Darting from the bushes you rush and grab her from the altar.

>The altar makes a scratching noise, and you dart away, struggling lich in hand.

>”What are you doing!?”

>Odd, sounds almost as if it’s still alive.

>You get a fair distance before you lose your grip, and the undead mare escapes.

>She begins flee, but you’re quick to slam your fist into her skull.

>The lich flinches with a loud yelp, and you grab a hold of its robe.

>It tears along the front and the undead pony once more turns to flee.

>You go for a stab, but the equine outruns your dagger.

>She vanishes into the night, and you can hear a panic come from the ritual site.

>You look down at the robe and notice a little white thing on the inside.

>Examining it closely, you see it reads “Hoity Toity’s Linen and Costume Designs. Zombie Wizard costume, 90% silk, 10% cotton – S.”

>A costume?

>Now that you think of it, it was fairly strange behavior for a lich.

>You think you screwed up royally.

 

>You get far away from the site, and find a way out of the gardens.

>All over Canterlot you see similar sights.

>carved pumpkins, candles, “undead” ponies.

>Foals are scurrying around in silly outfits such as ladybugs or pirate regalia, holding bags full of brightly colored objects, occasionally eating one to their parents’ annoyance.

>And whatever it is, you can’t enjoy it, because two guards pin you to the ground on sight.

>”You have committed crimes against Equestria and her people, what say you in your defense?”

>Sithis be damned, even here they all say the same thing.

>Seeing as they have swords at your throat, you are left with only one option.

“I submit, take me to jail…”