Steelsong RPG

A Tails of Equestria Cooperative Adventure! Every few days I'll post a few paragraphs setting the story. Anyone can post comments of what their pony character would do within the prompt, and can interact with each other in the comments. I'll integrate those comments into the next story post as we play through an adventure!

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A Roc and a Hard Place (Part 1)

The morning comes all too early, your body still weary from the exertions of the previous day. Yet even so, you feel you’ve rested well. Your bruises and scrapes are beginning to heal, thanks in part to the treatments you’ve applied, and even your tired mind perks up from the smell of Professor Trotter’s coffee kettle simmering over the campfire. 

It seems A K Yearling has been up half the night with the Professor, a freshly written stack of notes having been added to her satchel. Despite this Yearling shows no signs of fatigue, rather she carries a determined expression, even a fire in her eyes. 

As you fight back a yawn Sunny Saddles trots over and offers you a steaming mug, “This’ll perk ya up, partner! Big day ahead of us, ain’t that right Professor?”  Trotter doesn’t look up from his journal, too focused on the text at hoof, as he replies curtly, “Big AND Dangerous. If Yearling’s translations are right, it would seem the Wind Guardian is a Roc.” 

Lucky Harvest scratches his forehead with a hoof, tilting his hat back, “A rock? Shoot, it shouldn’t be too hard to roll a boulder aside.” 

“Not a rock Lucky, a Roc.” Yearling emphasizes a subtle difference in pronunciation as she gestures at a nearby carving, depicting a towering bird of prey in flight. “They’re massive birds with wingspans as wide as a canyon! But that’s not all.”

Picking up one of Trotter’s journals, the novelist flips to an illustration of a Roc, “They have jagged, rocky beaks and talons. Their feathers are as hard as stones, and cover their whole bodies. The larger ones even have gemstones growing from their wingtips and crests!”

Lucky gasps as he realizes the scope of the challenge, Yearlings description and tone proving to be unsettling, “How in tarnation are we supposed to get past some creature like that?” 

“By working together!” Sunny beams cheerfully, already strapping her grappling gear and saddlebags on tight. “Ain’t that right Professor?”  “Hmph,” Trotter grunts, hefting his own traveling bag, “So long as we’re careful, we should be alright.” He leads the group to the entrance to his secluded hideaway, raising a hoof against the dawn’s early sunrays. Even so soon in the day you can feel the creeping heat of the Badlands settling in for another scorcher. 

“We’ll need to move carefully, we don’t want to startle the creature. Watch your hooves and mind your footing, it’s a long way down!” Trotter cautions as he fires his grappling harness, propelling himself upwards to the peak of Dustmane Ridge. 

Ascending alongside Trotter you survey the rocky terrain ahead, high above the rolling Badlands below. In the distance you hear a shrill cry carrying on the wind from some unknown creature on the horizon. Despite your companion’s confidence you can’t help but gulp against the rising lump in your throat as you imagine the challenge lying ahead. 

[Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue with the next update!] 

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 8)

As you check your friends for injuries and make sure the campsite is secure, you turn your attention to Professor Trotter. He stares at the space Moonbeam had occupied moments before, his eyes a hundred miles away, his mind in another time and place. He seems lost chasing a memory until Yearling gently touches his shoulder, bringing his focus back to the present.  With a stern gaze he runs a hoof over the magic scorched earth, feeling the blackened sand with his hoof. “Moonbeam was a student of mine... a very long time ago. She was just a filly then.” The green pegasus furrows his brow, “She was quiet, shy. Preferred the company of her books to that of other ponies. Her parents thought archaeology might get her muzzle out of the books, get her to feel the history she was reading about.”  Trotter’s gaze turns skyward, searching the stars beyond the towering crevice walls. “She was very studious, a quick learner. She didn’t lack any enthusiasm for the research... but... she kept to herself... just playing with her toys... all by herself... all alone...”  Sunny Saddles tilts her head, trying to follow Trotter’s skyward gaze, “Do ya reckon she’s the one causing e’ry pony to turn into statuettes?”  The old professor pauses for a long moment before responding, “I... don’t know. But if she is, we have to stop her.” Trotter turns his attention back to the stone tablets, “First thing in the morning we’ll head out, we have to seek out the first guardian.”  Tapping the nearby etching of a winged bird in flight the aging archaeologist translates the Olde Ponish script, “The Wind Guardian... that’s where we’ll start. Get what rest you can, I’ll keep watch.” Trotter sighs, shouldering his shovel, “It’s going to be a long night...”  --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---  Her eyes were closed, her head raised skyward to the stars beyond the towering crevice walls, the hood of her cloak sliding back over her ears. The soft crackling of her violet magic broke the night’s silence as her her ignited once more, her teleportation spell fading.  A brilliant ray of light from her horn pierced the pitch black interior of the cavern, casting strange flickering shadows against the rock walls. Illumination did nothing to make the cave more inviting. Still, she pressed on, continuing her long search.  Wandering through long forgotten caverns and passageways she descended deep beneath the mountains. Deeper and deeper she went, passing pools of inky water and thick patches of unfamiliar fungi. She began to pass small trinkets and stone artifacts engraved with strange carvings.  Suddenly she gasped and stopped dead in her tracks. Towering before her, built into a high cavern wall, was a great circular stone door, carved with intricate patterns. Standing before it she could almost feel the magic power humming in the air around her. The door glowed gently, as if in greeting, as she lowered her satchel to the ground. Two dozen pony statuettes jingled within, a particular purple hued statuette clattering to the ground.  A grin spread slowly across her muzzle and her eyes grew wide. She turned her attention away from her discovery to gently tuck her favorite alicorn statuette back into the bag with all her other friends. Then, the navy blue maned unicorn turned her attention fully to the ancient ruins before her.  “Finally...” Moonbeam breathed, “I’ve found it...”  [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue with the next update!]

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 7)

In a moment of courage, or perhaps bravado, bolstered by your allies, the decision is made. All at once you surge from behind cover alongside your companions, intent on rushing the cloaked unicorn assailant!  Professor Trotter joins the charge, his trusty shovel gripped firm in his teeth, ready to deliver a heavy knock-out blow. Sunny Saddles grabs a rope, tossing one end to Lucky Harvest as the pair gallop out together. A K Yearling for her part takes flight on tan wings, swooping above and away from the thick of the scuffle.  The grey mare seems startled at the bold response of your team, throwing up a hasty shield spell to offer some protection from the rocks and lightning shocks assailing her.  Coming at the mysterious pony from all sides, you quickly surround and attempt to subdue the secretive caster. Keeping her distracted, her magic focused on blocking your blows rather than casting offensively, Sunny and Lucky rush in! “You go high Lucky, I’ll go low!” Sunny cheers, sliding on gravelly earth, rope held tight.  Circling left and right the two wagoneers quickly bind the legs of the dark unicorn. The surprised mare yelps, attempting a hasty spell to turn Sunny into a statuette, only to have her magic deflected by Trotter’s shovel at the last moment!  With an abrupt thud the purple cloaked caster falls to the dust, struggling to free herself. Yearling swoops in overhead, landing squarely atop the bound unicorn. Pinning her shoulders to the ground, surrounded by allies, Yearling throws back the unicorn’s cloak. Yearling snarls down at the mare in a demanding voice, “Who are you?! Why are you attacking us?!”  You finally get your first good look at the young mare, now restrained by your three companions. Her violet eyes are wide and welled up with tears, an expression of real fear dominating her face. She trembles, her dark mane hiding half her features as she struggles against the ropes. Yearling seems taken aback, her demeanor softening slightly at the sight of the terrified young pony.  “No, please!” she sobs, struggling to break the ropes holding her, “It’s not... I’m not...” suddenly she closes her eyes tight, a flash of violet energy erupting from her horn! All at once you and the other nearby ponies are thrown back as the mare teleports away, leaving only the eerie silence of the Badlands behind.  Professor Trotter lowers his shovel, speaking to no one in particular with little more than a whisper, “Moonbeam...what have you done?...”  [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue with the next update!]

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 6)

Beside the simmering campfire your party settles in for what will hopefully be a restful night after a long day in the dunes. Between escaping the Tatzlwurm, navigating the sandstorm, climbing Dustmane Ridge, and now a short lived scuffle with Professor Trotter, you are fully exhausted. Even so, you take some time before bedding down to better examine your surroundings and stake a watch. With so many potential threats lurking about you come to understand even more fully why this region is called the Badlands, briefly smirking as Sunny Saddles comments, “Well ya know, there’s a reason y’all don’t call it the GOOD lands!” Professor Trotter and A K Yearling step off to a side, going over notes and translations in whispered mumbles, noting minor changes to their work journals by candlelight. Lucky Harvest begins to snore loudly as he dozes off, Sunny sitting nearby strumming an imaginary guitar while humming some old country song. For a moment it seems peaceful, almost tranquil. Yawning, you begin to wonder if perhaps you’ve passed the worst of this adventure. After all, you’ve found the Professor, you have his research in hoof. If together your group can find the Umberfoal and a way to undo this statuettes curse, it should be a simple matter to... *FWOOSH* A beam of violet magical energy shoots through the entrance to the cave, narrowly missing your head! The beam ricochets off the stone floor, leaving a black scorch mark on the earth! Just outside, standing on a crest shrouded by moonlight, the mysterious purple-cloaked mare that ambushed you at Twilight’s camp fires bolts of energy into the cavern! The grey unicorn’s eyes glow an ominous violet hue as her spell casting intensifies! Diving for cover, you sound the alarm! Sunny is the first up, grabbing Lucky by the tail and throwing the surprised earth pony behind an outcropping for cover, a ray of arcane energy scorching where he just lay dreaming! Trotter douses the fire as Yearling leaps onto the tallest of the ancient tablets, knocking it on its side! Though the tablet cracks and chips in several places as it crashes to the ground, it now provides solid cover for your party. As you huddle behind the stone relic dozens of rapid-fire spells scorch the top and sides of the tablet, unable to connect with the ponies on the far side. Clutching her archaeologist’s hat Yearling tries to peek over the tablet, only to be forced down by the magic. “She’s got us pinned down!” Gritting her teeth, she looks around the cave, then at the party, finally meeting your gaze as arcane rays begin to chip away at your cover, “We need a plan, and FAST!” [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue with the next update!]

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 5)

In the flickering lantern light you see a series of ancient stone tablets. Professor Trotter has each carefully laid against the cave wall, supported by rolled canvas sheets and wooden makeshift props. At the center a larger carving, almost too large for any one pony to move by themselves, depicts three mythical beasts posed around a dark sphere.  Pointing at each in turn, the Professor begins to translate the text, beginning with the lettering above a winged beast, “Seek out the Wind Guardian, proud shining protector of the snow capped mountains, and gain her respect.”  Tracing his hoof over the relief he closely examines a depiction of a massive serpentine beast. Though somewhat abstract, it also appears familiar. “Seek out the Earth Guardian, the great and fearsome tunneller of the west, and face him with courage.”  “Ya’ll reckon that means that Tatzlwurm critter?” Sunny Saddles asks, but A K Yearling raises a hoof to pause her question, keeping her focus instead on Trotter. “What does the last one say, Professor?”  The green Pegasus steps aside to reveal a third relief, this time of a great fiery drake atop a stony peak, “Seek out the Fire Guardian, atop his southern spire, and share in his joy.”  Scratching the stubble on his chin, Lucky Harvest tilts his head to the side, “What does it all mean though Professor?”  “It means we need to find the Guardians,” Yearling affirms, taking her parchment and charcoal out to rub a copy of the tablet, “And before Caballeron figures this out himself.”  Trotter snorts, “That greedy middleman only wants to sell the artifacts to the highest bidder, I won’t stand for it. I’m close to finding the entrance to the Umberfoal.” He hangs his head slightly, staring down at a tablet, “Yearling, I know I haven’t always been the best friend, but if you’re willing to help an old fool I could use your help, just one more time.” Smiling a heroic grin, the tan coated Pegasus places a hoof on her old friend’s shoulder, “You know I’ll help,” she looks back at the group beaming, “We all will!”  “Darn tooting we will!” Sunny cheers, practically bucking with excited anticipation, “Where do we start?”  Yearling looks over the stone tablets, “It will take some time to translate these locations. We’d better set up camp here for the night, it’s already getting dark. We can come up with a plan in the morning.”  Nodding in agreement, Lucky begins to look about the cave, stacking some sticks for a fire and rolling out a bedroll. Towering nearby, the wall of tablets and reliefs somewhat ominously stares down, offering an unknown portense for what’s to come. 

[Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue with the next update!]

Author’s Note: I hope to begin posting more regularly again now that my life schedule has settled down some. Thank you all for your continued patience and support! 

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 4)

In the dim light of the cave you scuffle with Professor Trotter, in short order exchanging blow, scrapes and minor concussions before the professor is disarmed. Backing away from the group, scowling, Trotter stands firm with gritted teeth, staring down the group of trespassers.  “Professor, please!” Sunny Saddles pleads, trying her best to defuse the stand off, “We’ve been worried sick about ya! Y’all’ve been missin’ for weeks!”  Snorting, Trotter stamps the rocky ground, “I wasn’t missing, I was protecting my research. It belongs in a museum, not sold to line Caballeron’s pockets!” 

“What are you talking about Professor?” Lucky Harvest steps forward, joining Sunny, “The Doc’s been looking out for all of us, he funded our whole expedition himself.” 

“But not for our benefit,” A K Yearling steps into the lantern light, pulling off her red framed glasses, “Caballeron wants to find Umberfoal for himself.” Sunny and Lucky exchange confused looks, while Trotter looks immediately relieved, an exhausted sigh leaving him, “Yearling, you’re safe. I thought I’d lost you.”  Smirking, Yearling steps closer to her old friend, “It’ll take more than a pack of Diamond Dogs to stop me.” She gestures to you and the other ponies nearby, “I was only able to continue your research thanks to our new friends. They made finding you possible. I trust them professor, do you still trust me?”  “Of course,” Trotter affirms, nodding solemnly, “It seems I owe you all an apology. I wasn’t sure there were any good ponies left in the Badlands. Please, forgive me.”  Trotter goes around the group, shaking hooves and helping bandage the injuries from your earlier scuffle. Pulling a scroll of rubbings from her satchel, Yearling rolls them out on the rough ground, “Professor, we found an obelisk surrounded by tablets at Site A, do you know what they mean?”  Nodding, the professor turns the lantern’s beam to shine on a large tablet leaning against the cave wall, “Yes, the last piece to unlocking the Umberfoal.” His voice drops to a whisper “The final obstacle to a lifetime of research.”  Crowding around, you and the archaeologists look at the stone carving. Yearling’s eyes slowly widen as she translates the Olde Ponish script.    “The Trials of the Badlands!” 

[Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue with the next update!] 

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Update!

Our adventure will continue this week, with regularly scheduled posts resuming their 1-2 a week frequency. Apologies for the delay!

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 3)

Treading lightly from one hoof hold to the next you do your best to navigate the steep ledges. The jagged rocks scuff your equipment and leave scrapes on your unprotected coat as you ascend. Though not as dexterous as your archaeologist counterparts you’re able to scale the cliff relatively unscathed. Despite the harsh desert winds lashing down from over the rise you hug the jagged rocks, finally reaching a landing where A K Yearling is securing her gear. Surveying the horizon from the sheltered outcropping, there is a stunning view of the Badlands below. Stretching for miles the range of sands looks picturesque, even peaceful, from Dustmane Ridge. Yearling smiles, wiping the sweat from her brow. Her eyes are distant, fixed on some distant memory from past expeditions in this harsh corner of Equestria. Between the dark pillars that dot the landscape and rolling clouds of the sandstorm, the whole Badlands look like a scene out of a dream, majestic enough to make you forget the blazing sun and your numerous abrasions, at least for a moment. You’re brought back to the present as Sunny Saddles calls from a crevice nearby, “Hey y’all, I think I found something!” Carefully reaching the next landing, nestled in a ravine too narrow to fly into, you find Sunny with Lucky Harvest, peering into a dark cave that pierces the heart of Dustmane Ridge. In the sand nearby are tracks that don’t belong to any of the party, horseshoe prints and a rut from a heavy object being dragged against the rocky earth. Sunny kneels down, examining the hoof prints more closely. The wagoner’s face lights up with a smile, “These look like Professor Trotter’s tracks! He’s okay!” She exchanges excited grins with Lucky at the prospect of finding their friend. Yearling, however, seems less convinced, “Or it could be whoever stole his research,” The reclusive writer loads a grappling hook into her wrist launcher, locking it in place with an ominous, echoing click. “Stay behind me.” Taking point, Yearling squeezes into the cave, her launcher ready for some unknown purpose. One by one your party follows, struggling in a few places to pass the narrow rock walls. After a few dozen yards the passage widens considerably, enough to fan out and breathe easily. Little light reaches the deep cave, just a few flickering bits of sunlight over the shadows. Sunny rummages in her bag and pulls out a lantern, “Nothin’ a little kindlin’ can’t fix.” As she strikes a bit of flint on the steel of her lantern, the flashing spark reflects off a nearby pair of icy blue eyes. In a blur of movement a pony leaps from the shadows, swinging a shovel in his hooves! Yearling fires her grappling hook, ricocheting off the shovel in time to force the swing to miss Sunny’s head by mere inches! Grunting heavily, an older green pegasus grits his teeth and staggers back, preparing another swing! In the darkness you can just make out a dirty bandage wrapped around one of his wings, another over his hind leg. Lucky Harvest pulls Sunny back, calling out to the attacker, “Professor Trotter, Stop!! It’s us!!” The professor snorts taking a defensive stance, “So, Caballeron sent you to finish the job, eh? Should have known it was all an act. Well you’ll get nothing from me, you hear? Nothing!” Professor Trotter leaps at the group again, the edge of his shovel lashing through the air! [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue later this week!]  

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 2)

Navigating by sound and touch you manage to keep close to the caravan despite the lashing sandstorm winds. Even with visibility reduced to near zero you still manage to push forward, following the experienced wagoners through the Badlands. The storm rages for nearly two hours, with only glimpses of your fellow travelers as the sands ebb in their flow. The hot sands lash your cloak and goggles, the burning sands leaving their marks on the equipment. Finally, after trudging through the seemingly endless dunes, the winds begin to die down, replaced by a looming shadow. Emerging from the nearby rise is a massive wall of russet stones, jagged and imposing. The sandstorm subsides, raging further into the Badlands, leaving your band in the shelter of the cliff face. Shaking the sand from her cloak, A K Yearling raises a hoof to her brow as she examines the ledges before you. “This is it, Dustmane Ridge. Legends say the desert winds live in these mountains, born of the sky to sweep over the dunes.” She checks her grappling gear, carefully eyeing the hoof holds in the cliff, “We’ll have to leave the wagons here. Carry only what you need, this is going to be a hard climb.” Sunny Saddles and Lucky Harvest fasten tarps over their wagon, securing their grappling harnesses with modest saddlebags of provisions and survival gear. Beaming from cheek to cheek, Sunny looks up the ridge. “Professor Trotter spent years exploring the caves up yonder. His first finds were in this ridge, our very first glimpse of the Umberfoal. Let’s see what other secrets we can find!” With a mechanical slide and click Sunny loads a grappling hook and aims a hoof skyward, “Last one to the top is a sour apple!” A burst of air detonates from the wrist-mounted launcher, the climbing rope rocketing skyward, latching securely to the rise above. Pulling it taught, Sunny ascends skyward, an echoing “YEE-HAW!” in her wake, the sunset sky blazing behind her mane. Yearling and Lucky follow suit, firing their grapplers, “Watch your footing and watch for brambles when you land. See you topside!” [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue later this week!]  

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It Belongs in a Museum (Part 1)

Leaving the contented Tatzlwurm to guard Dig Site A, you saddle up your remaining wagons and begin the long trek north across the Badlands towards Dustmane Ridge. You trot out of the abandoned campsite, hearing a gravelly rumbling behind the wagons as the massive reptile burrows back into the earth, leaving only broken equipment and structures in view.  With no clouds to offer any respite glaring sunlight bears down relentlessly on the sandy dunes. Even the earth feels scorched, with bleached bones and shriveled plants the only indicators that any distance is being traversed in these endless sands. Drinking from your steaming hot canteen offers little respite, giving way to fond memories of Sugarcube Corner and the far off comforts of frozen treats.  As you reminisce of the luxurious delicacies of far away civilization you feel a merciful breeze touch your mane. It’s a hot wind, but even so, the gentle caress against your sweat is enough to elicit a sigh of some relief.  Lucky Harvest stretches in his wagon harness, closing his eyes to feel the breeze better, “Mmmm, finally a break in the weather.” He smiles, inhaling deeply as the breeze steadily grows.  Even as every pony soaks in the welcome breeze, Sunny Saddles trots ahead toward a small rise in the dunes, a more serious cantor to her usual cheery stride. Holding a hoof to her eyes, she scans the horizon intensely, searching for something.  Following her gaze upwind, it seems a section of the blue sky has turned an earthy light brown, with more and more of the horizon shifting to darker shades as the wind grows. Pulling her kerchief up over her muzzle, Sunny gallops down the rise and slides to a stop ahead of the wagons.  “There’s a dust storm coming y’all! Every pony, cover your muzzles or you’ll be coughin’ up sand for a week!”  Yearling pulls her cloak over her head and draws her cap down, while Lucky pulls his own kerchief over his face. Within moment the wind intensifies significantly, manes and garments blowing wildly in the wind. The sky dims, the eerie desert silence replaced by the sounds of rushing air. Then, the clouds of sand wash over your caravan, steadily reducing visibility.  “Stay close!” Yearling calls out as the storm overtakes her. “Don’t get separated!”  One by one, the ponies and wagons of the entire caravan are lost to sight, making you feel suddenly very alone.  [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue later this week!]  

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Player Handout #2 (Updated): Map of the Badlands Originally acquired in Dodge City, this region map has been updated with locations of interest as noted by the Ponies at Dig Site B, and by discoveries while exploring.

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Campfire Crossfire (Part 7)

Thinking quickly, you silence Lucky Harvest’s scream and soothe the Tatzlwurm’s roar, keeping the massive reptile from resuming its rampage. Taking several deep breaths, Lucky nods, finally relaxing enough to speak quietly. “Tarnation! What the hay happened?” Sunny Saddles embraces her friend and proceeds to get him up to speed, while A K Yearling trots closer to the coiled Tatzlwurm. You keep the creature’s attention and calm it enough for the archaeologist pony to reach the tablets. “Perhaps this is one of the ancient Guardians,” Yearling muses, cautiously sliding down the dig site incline, “Professor Trotter mentioned them while researching the Umberfoal, but only in passing.” Dusting the sand from the stone tablets, she begins to decipher the Olde Ponish texts, “Now let’s see...” Squinting in the sunlight, Yearling reads the large stones, “Powerful spells...an enchantment of protection...created the umber orb...will transform us...form that cannot be harmed...long sleep.” Yearling tilts her cap and wipes sweat from her brow, reading further down the tablets, “Equestria...is troubled...built a new home...deep below...sanctuary...safety...city...” Her eyes go wide and she excitedly calls out, “Umberfoal!” The Tatzlwurm hisses at the loud yell, but remains calm due to your soothing efforts. As Yearling takes a rubbing of the carved writing, Sunny calls out from the pile of crates near the campsite’s center. “Hey y’all, we found something!” Sunny gallops over, holding a small stack of parchments in hoof, a strange mechanical device draped over her back. Gesturing to the contraption, Sunny beams at her fellow adventurers, “These here are Professor Trotter’s grappling harnesses! He invented them so Earth Ponies could navigate all them rock formations in the Badlands. An’ look at this!” She unrolls the parchments, holding them up to the sunlight. Trotting out of the dig site close enough to read the papers, Yearling smiles, “It looks like a map of Dustmane Ridge. The Professor and Doctor Caballeron were discussing setting up our second site there before he disappeared.” Tapping the map with the tip of her hoof, Yearling’s smile broadens. Nodding in understanding she stamps a hoof affirmatively, “Right! Then that’s where we need to go,” Taking the grappling harness from Sunny’s shoulders, Yearling straps it around her torso. Boldly grinning, Yearling’s eyes flash in the high noon summer sun, “Saddle up team, we’ve got a ridge to scale!” [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue later this week!]  

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Campfire Crossfire (Part 6)

Despite the thrashing and roars from the Tatzlwurm you bravely and purposefully step forward, one hoof at a time. You keep your voice level, attempting to communicate with the raging reptile as you close the distance.

With a mighty swing of its tail the Tatzlwurm shatters a nearby building, leaving only splintered remains! Sunny Saddles calls out to you, “Get away from that varmint! Run!!”

Sunny jumps forward to stop you, but an outstretched hoof from Yearling holds her back, “No, wait! This might work...”

Screeching immediately in front of you, tentacles flailing from its maw, the Tatzlwurm rears for another attack. As it does you reach out with your healing balm and touch its wounded belly. The reptile howls at your touch, causing the earth to tremor and Sunny and Yearling to gasp in fear!

Then, just as suddenly, the Tatzlwurm thuds to the ground, creating a huge plume of dirty smoke. Coughing in the thick sand Sunny and Yearling shoo the sand from the air to clear their vision. As the dust settles they can see the Tatzlwurm laying on its side, contented, allowing you to apply the medical salve to its injury.

“Well I’ll be!“ Sunny exclaims, cautiously trotting closer, “I ain’t never seen anypony calm a monster like that!”

Yearling smiles knowingly, “That’s because it’s not a monster,” In a hushed tone, barely audible, she smirks and adds, “Not bad, kid.”

Having calmed and with its wound bandaged, the Tatzlwurm emits a gravelly growl, somewhere between threatening and defensive. The serpent then coils itself around the excavated monolith, as if to guard it, watching you and the nearby tablets closely.

For several long moments the campsite goes quiet, only the sound of distant...

*FWOOSH*

The statuette of Lucky Harvest erupts with light, suddenly depositing the still charging stallion in a tumbled mess of hooves on the ground! Shaking his head and lifting his stetson, the wagoner tries to get his bearings.

“Where did she go? Where is thaaaaAAAHHHHH!!!” His eyes go wide seeing the giant Tatzlwurm looming overhead, his words becoming a scream! The coiled reptile roars loudly in response, their combined yells echoing into the distance!

[Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue later this week!]  

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The Tatzlwurm, a subterranean worm-like creature with a tripartite jaw and a maw containing black tentacles that can reach out and grab its prey. It also has scales and a red mane-like structure behind its head. https://mlp.fandom.com/wiki/Creatures

[steelsongrpg]

Campfire Crossfire (Part 5)

Following Yearling’s lead, you attempt to step lightly through the abandoned campsite, taking extra time to investigate your surroundings and better grasp the situation. Edging your way closer to the exposed dig site you get your first look at the exposed tablets. All around the excavated monolith are hoof carved reliefs, surprisingly intact for their age. Most feature somewhat crude renderings of Ponies in a sort of hieroglyphic narrative. Yearling looks cautiously at the loose sand before nimbly leaping from tablet to tablet, moving more dexterously and lightly on her hooves than most Earth Ponies can, a sureness in her steps more often seen in adept flyers. Reaching into her cloak she produces a roll of parchment paper and a brick of charcoal. “Keep an eye out for trouble, I’ll copy as much as I can before our friend arrives.” Turning her attention to the exposed slabs, Yearling begins transcribing the Olde Ponish runes as quickly as she can. Surveying nearby you examine the broken purple scale and determine the Tatzlwurm may be hurt. You make efforts to contact the creature, calling out in hopes it will respond to your attempts to communicate peacefully. At first, the camp remains still and quiet. Nothing... Then, a low rumbling begins echoing through the town. Yearling pauses from her work and vigilantly scans the site, returning to her work with a determined fervor. A loud rumbling begins to roll through the campsite, a sound like cracking boulders filling the air as the ground begins to quake. Stirring from her rest in the wagon, Sunny Saddles groggily sits up, putting a hoof to her forehead, “What... what in tarnation is that sound?...” As if on cue, an almighty crash rocks the wagons as an explosion of dust and rock goes off near the center of the abandoned town! The Tatzlwurm erupts from the sands, releasing a terrible screech from its gaping pink maw! Its tendrils lash the air as it screeches, causing you to clutch your ears. Despite the ear piercing volume, you detect equal parts anger and pain in its tone. You’re able to spot an area on the reptile’s long chest scorched black from several magical strikes. A notable hole where a scale should be can be seen along its belly. Sunny’s eyes go wide, jumping to her hooves, “WHOA NELLY!!” She staggers, not yet fully orientated, but fully gaining the creature’s attention! Yearling leaps from the monolith, darting towards the groggy wagoneer, “Everypony, take cover! Don’t let it spray you!” Tackling Sunny off the wagon, Yearling and Sunny roll clear in the sand, narrowly avoiding the Tatzlwurm’s lashing tail as it breaks Sunny’s wagon clean in two! [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue later this week!] 

[steelsongrpg]

Campfire Crossfire (Part 4)

As you approach the abandoned Dig Site A, you begin to see more clearly the makeshift town. The buildings are all clustered around what can be called a crude main street, substantially more built up than Site B. Among the tents and temporary buildings are also collapsed structures, and trails of broken earth that suggest some sort of large burrowing creature tore through the town on a rampage. Tools and equipment lie scattered all around the campsite, including shattered crates and wagons broken clean in two. Many tools lie where they were abandoned, still others mere fragments that remain. Despite the extensive damage, the site actually seems salvageable, with most of the damage focused on and around the central excavation site. Reaching the edge of the site, you can’t see any huge creatures as described, in fact, you can’t see much of anything at all. The entire site feels eerily still. A chill runs down your spine, causing you to shiver. A K Yearling hops from the wagon and trots into the silent dig site, scanning the entire encampment from left to right. A ball of tumbleweed rolls between buildings then down the street, not even disturbing the unsettling stillness. “It’s too quiet...” Yearling speaks softly, almost a whisper, as much to herself as to you. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, she continues her survey, looking for any sign of danger or movement. Still nothing. There seems to be a large stack of undisturbed crates near the center of the town, offering no shade from the high noon sun. Venturing closer to the large dig site, you see down within the excavation basin a partially exposed monolith, an old stone structure covered in Olde Ponish runes. All around the ancient structure are dozens of stone slabs, stringed off and blanketed in a thin veil of sand, each covered in drawings and scripts. It seems that a prominent slab has been removed, leaving a noticeable hole in the midst of the other archaeological finds. The earth all around the crater appears broken, loose, as though something tremendous disturbed it all before settling back into place. A single broken purple scale lies protruding from the sands, clearly from some huge reptilian creature. Standing nearby, the only sound you can hear is that of your own beating heart in your ears, and the nearly silent thuds from each drop of sweat falling from your brow. The sweltering heat causes lines to rise from the sand, making the whole site feel like an unreal mirage. Something definitely isn’t right... but what?  [Reply with what your character would do or say next, and feel free to interact with the other commentators. The story will continue later this week!]  

[steelsongrpg]

Found half-buried in the sands of Twilight Sparkle’s campsite, this ancient metal bangle is inscribed in Olde Ponish. Esteemed archaeologist A K Yearling believes it to be somehow involved with the ancient lost Umberfoal civilization.