"[Filly NMM] Moonie RPG"
By 8th-Sin (https://pastebin.com/u/8th-Sin)

URL: https://pastebin.com/vKrREjws
Created on: Tuesday 4th of August 2015 10:29:47 AM CDT
Retrieved on: Sunday 9 of May 2021 08:39:01 PM UTC


>“It’s time to wake up,” Moonie calls as you feel a hard kick to the lower half of your body.
“Watch it young lady,” you bark back.
>“Excuse me? I am no child Mr Anon and you will refrain from referring to me as such.”
>As you roll over, you notice you’ve been sleeping on the hard coarse earth. 
>Your legs itch from the grass and your clothes are covered in dirt. 
>Confused and lagging from being woken so abruptly, you rise to your feet and as you do, you notice the weight of the armour you’re wearing.
“Why am I-”
>Then you notice Moonie wearing a wizard’s hat and robe while Sir Bearington has grown to be as tall as you while wearing some thick, plated armour.
“What is going on?”
>Moonie turns back to you, giving you an inquisitive look.
>“We’re venturing up to that temple of the blood god for treasure and glory,” she excitedly beams at you.
>You glance at Sir Bearington who you think is staring at you. 
>It’s hard to tell what a giant stuffed bear is looking at when it has buttons for eyes and a toothy smile stitched on his face. 
>You should have given him something friendlier, then again that might have been even scarier.
>“Come, it’s time to go,” Moonie calls as she waves her staff that’s clearly meant for someone of your height.
>Using magic, he shrinks all the camp equipment and places it into a small pouch before walking onwards. 
>Sir Bearington gestures to follow before he darts off to be at Moonie’s side. 
>With a worn out sigh, you follow. 
>You’re currently in some rocky plains so the terrain is hard, uneven and murder on your feet. 
>The temple you’re heading too is quite a ways up a mountain too, it’s a near vertical climb. Moonie rides in Sir Bearington’s large, plushy arms while you pull yourself up with the added weight of armour and gear. 
>Once you’ve climbed to the top and arrive at the temple steps, you drop onto your ass eager for a break.
>“What are you doing?”
“Resting, I’m tired.”
>“There’s no time,” she shouts before pushing on the door.
>It doesn’t open so she pulls to the same result. 
>In a fit of anger, she pushes and pulls on the door, waiting for something to work.
“Moonie.”
>“GRRRRRR!”
“Moonie!”
>“Open damn it… I SAID--”
“MOONIE!”
>“WHAT?!”
>You point to the top of the door where a golden crown ornament is. 
>In the centre of the crown is a circular hole and surrounding it is some writing that reads, “Enter the life blood of all royalty to enter.”
>“Life blood of all royalty?” Moonie repeats.
“It’s a riddle.”
>“I can tell that much-Oh, life blood. Sir Bearington, hold Anon down while I get some blood.”
“WOAH, we don’t need blood,” you shout as you pounce up onto your feet, backing away from the very large stuffed bear.
>“What do we need then?”
>You hastily rummage through your pouches, searching for the answer. 
>Then you notice the subtle yellow gleam of a coin. 
>You hold it up and place it into the hole that proves to be a perfect fit. 
>The coin can be heard dropping and various latches, chains and other strange sounds ring out before the door flicks open.
>“Well done. How’d you know?”
“Easy. Every rich asshole has gold flowing through their veins,” you quietly remark as you step inside.
>The temple is decorated with all sorts of strange runes and symbols as well as statues made of gold and gemstones that are clearly in homage to this blood god.
>“We’re going to be rich enough to pump gold through our own veins,” Moonie cheers as she rubs her hooves together greedily.
>You can’t help but be impressed. 
>Whoever built this was quite the craftsman, everything is so well done but your inspection is interrupted by a group of five skeletons wielding various weapons.
>“Look out,” Moonie shouts.
>You draw your bow as if it were natural to you while Sir Bearington and Moonie draw their own weapons. 
>The skeletons rush at you.
>“WOAH! What are you doing?!” Moonie bellows while gesturing them to halt.
>The group of skeleton stop their charge and at look at each other confused.
>“This is turned-based combat. Go back to your spot and we’ll do this fairly.”
“S-Sorry,” one skeleton remarks before his jaw falls off.
>As soon as their backs are turned, Moonie casts a fire spell, igniting the group and incinerating them to ash.
>“I know they have no brains but wow,” she cackles to herself.
>With a joyful kick in her steps she proceeds to the next room that is even more extravagant than the last. 
>A red carpet stretches all the way to a throne at the end of the room. 
>Curtains hang from the walls around art pieces depicting the blood good. 
>You stay on alert as you walk towards the throne. 
>You’d like to be careful and quiet but Moonie’s constant excited giggling has put any hope of that to rest. 
>The throne is made of some kind of polished stone and on the back of it is another piece of writing. 
>At least, you think it is. If it is, it’s a language you’ve never seen before.
“I wonder what this says,” you say aloud.
>“It says, To those who wish to claim the throne, an offering shall is the price to be next in succession to the blood god’s power.”
“How do you know-”
>You’ve finally noticed Moonie who was sitting on the throne is now fully grown and laughing maliciously as her head turns to face you. 
>Her body however remains facing forward and with each turn of her head, a crack in her neck echoes through the throne room.
>“Thank you for your service Anonymous.”
>Before you can plead, protest, run, or even wet your pants, Moonie fires a bolt into your gut causing you to bolt upright from your bed.

>You look around and notice you’re back in your room. 
>Moonie is on your lap after being rolled off your gut.
“What just happened?” You ask, still disoriented and in pain from the filly to the gut.
>“You looked like you were having a nightmare so I figured I’d wake you up,” Moonie beams in her most innocent sounding voice, “And it’s breakfast time. I want pancakes.”
>You wipe your forehead to realise your were breaking out with a cold sweat, meaning it was all a dream. Thankfully.
>You'd probably be more grateful if it weren't for the thundering bellow of pain ringing through your stomach thanks to Moonie's usual way of waking you.
“I hate pancakes,” you reply as you lift the blanket up, making Moonie roll onto the floor.
>With a thump, she lets out a laugh and leaps back onto the bed.
>“It’s the weekend and I’ve behaved at school. We had a deal.”
“Fine, but no growing up, no blood gods or sacrificing me to any gods for that matter.”
>“I take offense to that. I would never sacrifice you.”
“I hope-”
>“I don’t know how the oven works yet,” she interrupts before darting to the kitchen with Sir Bearington on her back and an overly happy laugh.
