Esquestria: The House of the Sun - A pony cultist experience

[spiderhellian]

Nah, dropping to /6 was how things were initially stated.

Bird ultimately retconned things since iirc Regrettable Actions should always be, well, our actions. So we know what our Seventh child would be, but she's not yet born (and won't be without our act).

 

[angelsadvocate666]

I am usually very careful in the words I use. In the shaping of both implication and way things can be read.

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Then you probably need to be more careful. Because mistake? A mistake is bad, inherently. It is when you had a choice, and you chose the wrong one. It is literally defined in dictionaries as "an action or judgement that is wrong."

Say it's unpleasant, say we should be careful in the future, or even that you never want to see an Edge Influence again, that's fine. But calling it a mistake is to suggest that we fucked up, and will be suffering negative consequences as a result. That we are somehow worse off for having chosen to do this particular thing when Bird has repeatedly assured us that this is not the case.

Well, unless you meant to suggest that this choice was wrong in opposition to using Biedde for something else like scouting or whatever—which is still up for debate, but theoretically possible—but that wasn't the impression I got.

 

[jason1stlegion]

[] Fund a long monster-hunting expedition (Costs 100 bits)

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Hmmm. Monsters are such because the Colonel considers them to be, and Baldomare told us that the world belongs to ponykind; not to gryphons or zebras or whatever else walks upon it.

What kind of "monsters" would Biedde be hunting?

 

[DelightedOne]

Hmmm. Monsters are such because the Colonel considers them to be, and Baldomare told us that the world belongs to ponykind; not to gryphons or zebras or whatever else walks upon it.

What kind of "monsters" would Biedde be hunting?

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Probably Manticores, since they are cat-monsters and the Lionsmith is known to like create felines(it is even in his name). The changelings also might get their heads cut off, there is also timberwolves, cockatrices, parasprites... there is honestly a lot of things that can be considered monsters in MLP and while most are not sapient Biedde might kill a dragon if the Colonel tells him to.

 

[jason1stlegion]

while most are not sapient

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The issue with this part of the statement, is it forgets the Wolves we invited into this world.

Fairly sure we're going to have to intervene ourselves to prevent a murder in his hunts, though maybe we'll get lucky and Biedde hates wolves enough to not play along.

Biedde might kill a dragon if the Colonel tells him to.

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Seems plausible.

Though I'm wondering now where the Colonel is even supposed to be, if he's still giving out orders and targeting disciples. He's not a God From Light, so probably not sealed behind the Forge's door, and I'd expect him to take the vigil of the Museum himself if he could, just like in the old Mansus. Were we wrong about the Elegiast leading the Maids?

 

[Limabot]

If the Colonel is anywhere in the Mansus outside of Nowhere, I would suspect he's either inside of the Worm Museum itself or is trapped somewhere with the Lionsmith.

 

[DelightedOne]

Were we wrong about the Elegiast leading the Maids?

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Uh, can you remind me about that talk? Because as far as I remember The Elegiast has nothing to do with the Maids, they arewere the servants of The Sun-in-Rags and his grave is close to the Garden of Mirrors.

Wait, why isn't that a reason to get a Winter Sacrament? Windy would have a place of his lore that is relatively easy to find and all he needs to do is get a Sacrament. And it is the resting place of an HOUR, I can't help but imagine the loot, knowledge and whatever else(Winter Heirloom) that can be behind the BARRIER.

 

[Sveta08]

Then you probably need to be more careful. Because mistake? A mistake is bad, inherently. It is when you had a choice, and you chose the wrong one. It is literally defined in dictionaries as "an action or judgement that is wrong."

Say it's unpleasant, say we should be careful in the future, or even that you never want to see an Edge Influence again, that's fine. But calling it a mistake is to suggest that we fucked up, and will be suffering negative consequences as a result. That we are somehow worse off for having chosen to do this particular thing when Bird has repeatedly assured us that this is not the case.

Well, unless you meant to suggest that this choice was wrong in opposition to using Biedde for something else like scouting or whatever—which is still up for debate, but theoretically possible—but that wasn't the impression I got.

Click to shrink...

Then let me clear up any misgivings that there may be.

I believe this was a mistake. I said so twice in the first, once in the second, and three now. Numerically fitting.
I do believe that, as you put it, we fucked up, and will be suffering negative consequences as a result.

I do not, however, believe that things are somehow worse off for having chosen to have this influence. That the situation is a net negative, as you seem to feel the word "Mistake" implies.
I do not believe that this will be an worthless action. I do not believe that this will put us "behind plan" so to speak.


I do believe this is a mistake however.
I see that this action was chosen so that we, the readers, can feel more assured, and more guaranteed in the actions that are taken. That we will maximize the bonus's applied, that when speaking with Comet we might understand where he was, that in exploring the Church we have a guard of a knife at hand.
I see this action taken so that our actions may not be denied. To cut away our doubt and uncertainties in the potentials of our actions. Fitting for an Edge Influence.

But you are right, in that I meant to suggest that this choice was wrong in opposition to having Biedde do something else. I mentioned in the first that I wanted him to search for the Outsider. I mentioned as much, and perhaps should have said so louder and more strongly during the vote discussion. I feel that it is a mistake that we are reaching for the knife right now because it might provide us assistance. I... will use the word feel here, that an Edge Influence is an incredibly useful tool that Velvet will need. I do not feel it was needed here, and was only used to assuage doubts and uncertainties.
It is useful, by definition. But I... believe it was the wrong action.

 

[Greymere]

Wait, why isn't that a reason to get a Winter Sacrament? Windy would have a place of his lore that is relatively easy to find and all he needs to do is get a Sacrament. And it is the resting place of an HOUR, I can't help but imagine the loot, knowledge and whatever else(Winter Heirloom) that can be behind the BARRIER.

Click to shrink...

It's pretty much the main attraction point of doing the Winter Sacrament, yeah. Problem will be, as ever, getting people to actually vote to do it. And also figuring out where to get those last three Winter scraps.

...actually, now that I'm thinking about it, if the general pattern is Sacrament Barrier -> leads to where the Lore Heirloom is located... doesn't that suggest that the Tower, or whatever lies beyond the Tower, will have the Secret Histories Heirloom?

 

[DelightedOne]

It's pretty much the main attraction point of doing the Winter Sacrament, yeah. Problem will be, as ever, getting people to actually vote to do it. And also figuring out where to get those last three Winter scraps.

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We don't need Winter 5 to get in, just the Sacrament.

 

[angelsadvocate666]

But you are right, in that I meant to suggest that this choice was wrong in opposition to having Biedde do something else.

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Alright, that is entirely fair, and I'm not sure I disagree. (Though I would withhold judgement until we see the rest of the turn at least).

I was just more concerned that you were trying to say—or sounded like you were saying, anyways—that the Influence itself, ignoring compratisons to other Biedde actions, was somehow making Velvet a worse person or something.

Basically it sounded like you were saying that if the choice was only between having an Influence summoned or doing nothing, the Onfluence would be worse. My apologies for misunderstanding.

 

[Greymere]

We don't need Winter 5 to get in, just the Sacrament.

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Hm. I guess that's true? I kind of feel like Bird intended us to be Lore 5 to pass the barriers though, considering that we don't get the Sacrament powers until we're actually Lore 5 even if we do them beforehand, iirc. And a lot of them can only be done at 4/4 scraps. Our personal Winter is one of the few that doesn't, actually.

 

[Pittauro]

Nah, dropping to /6 was how things were initially stated.

Bird ultimately retconned things since iirc Regrettable Actions should always be, well, our actions. So we know what our Seventh child would be, but she's not yet born (and won't be without our act).

Click to shrink...

I completely forgot or maybe never noticed the retcon!

 

[IronHydra]

No more RA's?

Why not... It'll only hurt for a little bit longer

Wanted to see wether or not the color Code worked for me lol.

Seriously though, these updates have been killer, we're going about completing our collection of Names, wondering how the Copper situation is going to resolve itself.

I'm of mixed feelings kinda with Biedde tbh, I like having a guard and attacker for us to deploy, but the casual manipulation that his kind is prone to and kinda going behind our backs and we basically don't ask questions rubs me the wrong way.

Hoping we can get around to dealing with Velv's trauma and complete blindness to the dark side of her family. I find it comedic to a degree, but I don't want it to last forever as a running joke.

 

[OurLadyOfWires]

Afternoon fades into dusk over the growing town of Ponyville, as the sun lazily makes its way to the west horizon. However, despite the growing influx of newcomers, there really isn't much activity happening in the late hours yet.

Most stores still close their doors, when the hours grow late. Most streets still lack light posts, or some form of public illumination. In fact, the town doesn't even have a large enough source of electricity to speak of, and its inhabitants still mostly rely on mundane methods, such as magic or fire, to pierce through the darkness.

Of course, one can already see signs of change here and there. So, even though most of the citizens of this small town are still laborers or craftsponies, there is also a growing minority who is not physically exhausted and looking forward to sleeping as the night approaches. Not enough ponies to truly change the "atmosphere" that Ponyville has, of an idyllic earth pony village, but enough to at least influence it.

Meaning that, even though the night is fast approaching, there are still ponies out and about in the streets. There are still ponies who have not yet finished their activities, or who might even be about to start their activities, even though Princess Celestia is about to steal the sun away from the skies.



And one of those ponies is currently walking through the streets of Ponyville. Making her way to the east road that leads away from the city.



As far as anypony could tell, she looks like a perfectly ordinary mare. An earth pony, with a coat so dark it might as well be black, and a mane of dark redd-ish color. Not bright enough to be the color of fire, but not dark enough to be the color of blood either. She is also carrying a saddlebag on her back, and the white color of the bag can almost be described as "clashing" with the color of her fur.

Her cutie mark, displayed on her flank for all the world to see, also seems perfectly ordinary. A flower, a pair of masks, and a lace connecting all of them together. Not the kind of cutie mark that would immediately tell somepony what her skills are, but still normal enough for anypony to be able to make a polite guess.

And her name… doesn't really matter. She isn't really the kind of mare who minds being called this or that, and she is more than glad to entertain nicknames and whatnot. Still, her friends usually call her Amor.

Although she doesn't really have many friends.

In fact, she only has one.

…

As she walks through the streets of Ponyville, making her way east, she starts to hum a soft tune. A merry little jingle, that she is making up on the spot, that she hums in time with her trot.

She is humming that song because, in all honesty, she can't really help it. After all, this is her favorite part of the week! In fact, it is not an exaggeration to say that she spends almost every other day waiting for this night to arrive.

And how could she not? Tonight is the night where she meets her friend!

So, she merrily hums that tune as she makes her way through town.

That is, until she finally passes by a… certain place.

Like every other week, the path she takes as she walks through Ponyville inevitably crosses the center of the town. Which means that, like every other week, she is once again passing right in front of… this place.

It is a structure unlike any other in Ponyville. Not as grandiose as the town hall, which is currently being rebuilt, and not as eye-catching as some of the more eccentric houses. But still, this place has a unique look of its own.

And that is because Amor is currently staring at what is, or perhaps was, the town library. A treehouse, or a house that is literally built from a tree, that stands in one of the roads near the center of Ponyville.

Although, like anypony else, she can immediately tell that said library had seen better days.

After all, she can barely tell that the place is shaped like a tree. Because there are no leaves or flowers to speak of, and most of its branches have already rotted and fallen down.

Furthermore, to say that the structure is in disrepair is an understatement. The "natural" parts of the tree look rotten and sick, but the "pony-made" parts of the structure look no better. And everywhere she looks, she can spot a broken window, or a misaligned door, or some other sign that this place is in desperate need for the attention of a cutie-marked carpenter.

But most of all, this place is unique because of…

Most ponies prefer to just ignore this place. In fact, most ponies in Ponyville either pretend this place doesn't exist, and just avoid this road altogether.

However, Amor… doesn't. In fact, it is the opposite with her.

And just like every other week, she spends… more than just a few moments staring at the rotting tree-house. Just like every other week, she can feel the thing that is emanating from that place. Like a strange warmth that comes from an invisible bonfire, or a strong smell that sticks to the coat.

And just like every other week, she… slowly, cautiously makes her way towards the worn front door.

Amor makes her way towards the front door, noticing that the sign that used to hang over the door is no longer there. Although she was sure that it was there last week. Another sign of disrepair, no doubt. Another thing that was simply lost.

She reaches the front door, and she can almost taste the feelings that are covering this place.

And she knows that… she knows that it would be so simple. It would be as easy as picking up a ripe fruit, that is hanging from a low branch.

She could call whoever lives in that place right now, and she knows that pony would follow. All she needed to do was knock on that door. All she needed to do was extend a hoof, and the denizen of this catacomb would practically lunge to hold on to it.

Amor slowly raises her hoof, inching it closer and closer to the front door…



But like every other week, she stops.



She stops herself. She stops her hoof. And as painful as it might be, she wrangles herself away from that temptation.

Because there are rules to this. There are rules to their… gathering, that she knows she must obey.

In fact, she was the one who wrote them.

And just like every other week, she almost broke the very first rule that they all must follow.

Do not invite any newcomers, unless She was the one who called for them.

Yes… yes. She must follow the rules.

No matter how inviting this place seems to be.

No matter how obvious this option might look like.

The pony who dwells in this place has not yet been called by… her friend. Her one and only very best friend has not yet called for whoever lives in this place. She has not yet mentioned this place, or looked at it, or even thought about it. Which can only mean that something, perhaps the gathering, or perhaps the pony who lives here, is not ready yet.

Which means that, once again, she must painfully force herself to lower her hoof, and leave that door undisturbed.

It is a shame they stopped leafletting, ever since the rules were put into place. But again, almost all the ponies who came because of the leaflets have already left, and only the ones She called have stayed. So…

Well, she should be on her way.

Letting out one last, pained sigh, Amor drags herself away from the rotting tree-house, and makes her way to the road that leaves Ponyville.

Soon, she knows. So very soon…





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Dusk fades into sunset over the growing town of Ponyville, as the sun touches the west horizon and patiently waits for its Princess to dismiss it. However, despite the fact that daylight has almost entirely faded, there are still ponies going about their business.

Or rather, it is precisely because daylight has almost entirely faded that some ponies are going about their business.

Ponyville is a growing town, and it has already started to feel the touch of progress. However, that progress so far has only been in the realm of quantity, rather than quality. A few more streets have already been beaten into the dirt, and new houses have been built where there was once only grass. But still, no roads have been paved yet, and the ground has not yet been kissed by concrete or iron or the things that form the foundations of larger buildings.

That might happen very soon, or perhaps that might never happen during any living pony's lifetime.

But still, right now, Ponyville remains quaint, if nothing else. Which means that Ponyville is still surrounded by what can be described as "wilderness".

Granted it is a tamed wilderness. After all, the east of Ponyville is covered in farms, and the west sees a great stretch of orchards. And the river that crosses the town is closely controlled and crisscrossed by bridges.

However, there are still untouched stretches of forest to the north and the south. There is still the cautious threat of the nearby Everfree Forest.

And most importantly, there are still places where things like this can happen.

"He is still at it. Hit him again."

"Yeah, I can see it."​

"No! NO! You don't understand, I just want to-ACK!"



In a place that isn't exactly far from Ponyville, but that isn't exactly close either, a group of ponies is…



"I-… I… Y-you don't understand. She LOVES me. I saw the way she looked at me. She-!"

"Shut up!"​

A group of ponies is currently gathered around a tied-up stallion. Some of them are carrying bats and metal bars, and one of them has a shovel.

But most notable of all, every single one of them has a disgusted expression on their face. Every single one of them is disgusted, or angry, or a mixture of both.

All of them, except for the stallion who, every few minutes, is getting struck by one of his captors.

Because even though the stallion is tied up and bleeding, he still has a smile in his face. Even though some of his bones are broken, and he is clearly in pain, he still has an expression that can only be described as insane.



"You don't get it. NONE OF YOU DO! I met her before! We grew up together, i-in Cloudsdale! We promised we'd marry! Just ask her. ASK HER! I proposed to her right before the Catastrophe! And it's a miracle that I found her here!"

"I think he's too far gone…"

"Yeah, I think he's a lost cause as well."​

"NONE OF YOU ARE GOING TO STOP M-ARGH!"



And all of those ponies, without exception, have one thing in common. Some of them are from Ponyville, and most of them are from other places around Equestria. But all of them, even the stallion who is tied up, are part of the same… group.

They are all part of the same gathering, so to speak.

They have all met, and they all meet every week, in the tightly knit grieving support group that operates in the quaint town of Ponyville.

Which means that they all know the rules.

"Anypony disagrees?"​

The other ponies gathered around the tied-up stallion all shake their heads. They all ignore the insane, deranged claims of the stallion, and they confer with each other one last time before making their decision.

Because they all know the rules. The three, very simple rules that they must follow, while they wait.

They all know the rule that the stallion broke, and that he must be punished for.

Do not speak to Her, and do not approach Her, unless She approaches you first.

"Clouded River, do the honors."​

The old stallion says that to one of the pegasus, and the pegasus unceremoniously raises the bat he is holding on his mouth-



"DEATH WON'T STOP ME! IT DIDN'T STOP HER! I SAW HER DIE IN CLOUDSDALE, AND YET WE MET AG-!"



-and he brings it down on the tied-up stallion's head, smashing it into a bloody pulp.

Finally silencing the bleeding pony.

"Alright everypony, lets get rid of the body and head to the meeting. Whacky is already going to fetch the young Miss. Oh, and make sure to clean up any bloodstains before heading back, yes? We don't want another ketchup incident."

A few chuckles erupt here and there, as some of the ponies get to work.

And the light humor they are all sharing makes it very clear none of them regret doing this.

The rules, they all know, are a necessity. An agreement that they all reached, or perhaps that was imposed upon them, so they can better control their own individual pains while they all wait.

Because ultimately, that is all they can do. The only thing they can do is wait for… what comes next. For what they know is coming, but that they can neither accelerate nor slow down.

And the rules are there to help them keep to their roles. So, they can better play the part of the audience, or perhaps the gathering Host, until the time finally arrives.

After all, as the first rule states, there is no need to try and call new members. Because the members they invite in are always wrong in one way or the other. They always leave, or they fail, or eventually become a problem one way or the other.

No, only those who are called by her, or who arrive on their own, become viable members of their gathering. That is the purpose of the first rule.

Furthermore, they can't really interact with her either. And that is why the second rule is in place. They can't interact with her, or at least they must be very careful when doing so, because they all… well, they all see her in a different way.

Some of them swear that she looks like a daughter, or a sister, or a wife. Or somepony else they lost. They swear that she is somepony who they love, and that they must -that they deserve- to have her for themselves.

Some of them swear they saw her, or still see her, in their dreams. That they are certain, with an ironclad conviction, that she is calling to them every night.

And some of them swear she spoke to them, in private, at some point. And that she commanded them to do… something, that involved her.

They have all gone through that. They all still go through that, every time they see her. And naturally, the idea… nay, the certainty that a pony you loved, or still love, is right there can make some ponies… act out in rather unsavory ways. So, they have all learned to resist those thoughts.

And that is the purpose of the second rule. To make sure everypony keeps a healthy distance from her, lest one of them does something they shouldn't and ruins the gathering for everypony else.

Most of them have learned to push those feelings away, and can even talk to her normally, on the rare occasions that she stops and speaks to one pony or another.

Some of them needed… encouragement. Like the pony who is currently using his shovel to dig a grave, who nowadays wear an eyepatch over one of his empty eye sockets because… well, because he needed help so he could see things better.

And a few ponies, like the one who is about to be buried, simply can't control themselves at all.

So, acts like this are necessary.

Because it is imperative that they do not scare her away.

After all, if she ever decided to stop coming to their gatherings… well, the inevitable would still happen, some day in the future. But they would not be a part of it.

And that, they all know, is an agony none of them are prepared to suffer.

"Do you think she will share anything today?"

"Oh, I sure hope so. But as always…"

"Yes, we can only wait."

"Yes. It is agonizing, isn't it?"​

A few more chuckles erupt here and there, at the familiar joke.

And soon enough, yet another body is buried and forgotten in the tree-covered outskirts of Ponyville.

After which a group of ponies, united by loss and who help each other in their grief, make its way to their weekly meeting.





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Amor doesn't really have a high opinion of herself.

She can do this and that, of course, and she knows where her heart lies. But she doesn't really consider herself to be an extraordinary pony.

Still, she is patient.

Sunset has finally happened, and the moon is now just above the east horizon. There are no clouds to speak of, so the faint moonlight is more than enough for her to be able to see.

And like she does every week, she is currently… waiting.

She is sitting under a tree, on a hill east of Ponyville. She is sitting on a hill that is right in front of a mansion, that is located just outside of Ponyville. A small cluster of fancy buildings, placed around a pretty garden, that is in turn surrounded by vast stretches of farmlands.

The seat of the local noble, from what she heard.

But more importantly, the home of her best friend!

Amor doesn't mind waiting. In fact, she is more than prepared not to leave that spot, even if she has to wait until sunrise. After all, she isn't as interested in going to the gathering as much as she is interested in being with her friend. So, if her friend doesn't feel like going to the gathering, she will stay there all night. And if her friend decides to come, she will accompany her there.

This, without a doubt, is the high point of her week. The thing she looks forward to the most.

But still, it doesn't change the fact that waiting is boring. So, like every other week, she is currently indulging in one of her hobbies.

Wood carving.

Amor carries several items in her saddlebag, for nights like this. Some food, in case she needs to wait the whole night. A blanket in case it gets cold.

And a few small blocks of wood, as well as a knife.

So, right now she is working on one of those blocks. Right now, she is trying to sculps a replica of… well, of the only relevant structure she can really see, given where she is sitting.

Which means she is slowly carving the wooden block into a small, and crudely made, replica of the noble mansion where her friend lives.

…

It is a little funny, she thinks, of how strange her carvings come out.

Because whenever she is carving wood, chipping away little pieces of it with her knife, she doesn't really think about what she is doing. In fact, she just lets her hoofs guide the process.

So, sometimes the wood-replica of the mansion will be a bit crooked, here and there. And sometimes it will have a few details that, no matter how hard she looks, she can't really find in real life.

But most of the time, she will be surprised by the fact that for some reason… she carves something else, other than a replica of the mansion.

Because when she really gets distracted, when she really lets her hoofs move on their own, she inevitably ends up carving what seems to be a small pair of dogs.

Sometimes, she will just carve a little blocky mansion with two tiny dogs sleeping in front of it. Sometimes, she will carve a replica of the mansion, but with bits and pieces of it broken down as if they had been gnawed by a pair of mouths.

And sometimes, she will just carve two dogs. Biting each other, or themselves, with no mansion in sight. An entire block of wood chipped down to a pair of canines, even though she had her eyes on the mansion the entire time she was working on it.

She can't really explain it, but it's not like she thinks too hard about it either.

However, tonight she…

…

… tonight, she…

…

There is something different going on tonight.

She doesn't know what it is. She can't even explain it. But the moment she sat down on the hill that overlooks the mansion, and started working on her little block of wood, she could feel that…

… that something new is in the air.

She can feel it, in the dryness of her throat and in the beating of her heart. She can feel it, even though it is so faint that it is almost painful.

But still, she knows that there is nothing she can do.

Like everypony else, she can only wait.

So, she continues to carve her little block of wood. Not taking her eyes out of the mansion even for a second, as her hoofs work away.

Until finally, finally, she sees what she had been waiting for.

The front door of the mansion opens, leaking out a bit of candlelight, and a lone mare walks out of it.

And of course, Amor recognizes her instantly. That's her friend! That's the pony she had been waiting for all along! In fact she gets so excited that she stands up and begins to wave a hoof.

She almost yells out her name! She almost yells for Soft Sweeps to look at her!

However… it doesn't take long for her to realize something is wrong with her friend.

Because unlike every other night, her friend isn't opening her wings and flying towards her. In fact, from the speed she is walking, it doesn't even look like she is awake.

Instead, Amor watches as her friend just… begins to walk. She watches as the pegasus mare walks through the garden, and walks out through the front gate, and starts making her way towards Ponyville, without even sparing Amor a glance.

Soft Sweeps knows Amor is there. Of course she does. They always meet here before going to the gathering.

And yet, this time… the way she is acting…

…

Ah.

There is a smile on Amor's face, as she finally understands what is going on. And rather than feeling discouraged, or feeling despondent because her dear friend didn't come talk to her, she actually feels thrilled.

Because she can already tell that… that whatever happened, whatever it is that she is feeling inside of her…

It is a sign.

It is a sign that tonight will be special.

It is a sign that this is the night, or perhaps one of the nights, they have been waiting for this whole time. Ever since the gathering came together.

So, she must make sure everything is ready.

She immediately jumps into action, throwing the block of wood away, and almost forgetting to stash her knife in saddlebag. And moments later, she is already galloping towards Ponyville. Her quick pace being sure to get her there before Soft's almost-sleepwalking speed.

Because she knows, she just knows, that she must get there before her friend does. She must make sure that everypony is ready, and that everypony knows, before her friend gets there.

In fact, she is so thrilled and so focused on this calling, that she doesn't even notice what her hoofs had just carved.

She doesn't even notice that the block of wood, that she so carelessly tossed away the moment she spotted her friend, had a carving of three dogs, all running after each other's tail in a circle. Three wolves, as opposed to the two she had been accidentally carving this whole time.

A new revelation was upon them.





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- - -





There is something wrong with Soft Sweeps tonight.

Everypony realizes it. Everypony can see it.

But nopony mentions it to her. In fact, nopony wants to mention that to her.

Not only because the rules forbid speaking to her, unless one is spoken to. But also because…

Well, because the young pegasus looks like she is in a trance. And there isn't a single pony here who wants to wake her from that state.

…

The Ponyville grief support group is an assortment of different ponies. They all came from different cities, and they all came from different walks of life.

Some of them were rich, and others were poor. Some of them are young, and others are old.

But all of them, without exception, lost everything. All of them saw their lives burn to the ground when the Catastrophe happened. And all of them have been carrying the pain of that loss ever since.

They were all, almost without exception, nearly drowned by the mind-numbing shock of seeing their lives go up in flames.

And they were all dragged out of the murky pit of their misery by her. Woken up by her words, and given new life by the flame that she placed inside their hearts.

They all went through that, and they are all grateful to her…



… even though the young pegasus herself has no idea that she did any of that.



Still, tonight things are different.

Tonight, young Soft Sweeps is barely herself. And ever since she entered the room, she has not spoken to anypony. She just made her way, glassy-eyed and mumbling to herself, to the chair where she usually sits. She just sat down in the circle and did nothing more, balancing her body back and forth as if she was trapped inside of her own mind.

Thankfully, they were all ready for that. Because to everypony's surprise, Whacky had come galloping into the room just a few minutes prior, and had warned all of them that tonight was the night.

So, as Soft Sweeps takes her seat, and stares at the floor as if she was sleepwalking, they all… play their parts.

Because for some reason, for some maddening reason that nopony can explain, they all know what they must do. And the pain they carry inside their hearts, the flame that burns at their chest every single day, is growing so strong that it is almost painful, tonight.

So, they start their meeting the same way they always do. They begin to tell their own stories, to share the pain that haunts them, like they would any other week.

But tonight, even that feels different. Tonight, it feels like their pains are burning so strongly inside their chests that it will burn them from the inside if they do not let them out in the form of words.



"Would anypony like to share anything tonight?" the old stallion asks, starting off the meeting like he always does.



And so, they all begin to share.

The stallion sitting to Soft Sweep's left begins to talk. He tells everypony about his family, his wife and his son, and how they all choked and died when the fires began. He tells everypony of how heavy they felt on his forelegs, as he hugged their dead and dirty bodies inside the charred husk of his home. And how he still feels their weight, sometimes, when he is alone.

Once he is done, the mare to his left continues. She begins to talk about her own loss, sharing details she had never told anypony else before. About how her brother turned into a monster, and how she fled instead of trying to protect their mother.

And then the next pony speaks, and the next, and the next. Starting from Soft Sweep's left and going clockwise. Malady upon malady. Misery after misery. The orphaned son. The grieving grandmother. The limbs that were lost, either burned or crushed, while they tried to drag out bodies from under the rubble. They all share their own agonies, until the atmosphere is so heavy with it that it almost feels like there is smoke in the air. As if some unseen fire is burning nearby, coming from their chests and leaking out of their mouth in the form of words, and slowly covering the room.

As if something else is nearby, stalking around the circle of chairs on silent paws, making the air heavier and dirtier with its presence.

Until finally, at long last, it is Whacky's own turn. And like she does every other day, the mare who sits at Soft Sweep's right shares a story that isn't her own. She tells them all a story about somepony else, who also lost everything, but who isn't here tonight to share it himself.

Her words are almost painful to the ears, but they all listen to her nonetheless.

After all, it is only right that somepony represents those who were already taken by the flames.

And when she is done speaking, they all turn to the last pony. They all turn, with rapt attention, to the one mare who has not yet shared anything tonight.

They all turn to Soft Sweeps, and they hold their breath lest the filthy smoke in the air causes them to choke.

And finally… finally…

… she begins to speak.

"I have a picture of my family… my old family… the one that burned, when everypony died…"​

Her words are so low that they might as well be a whisper.

But the filthy air, that doesn't smell like blood or tar or ozone, but something worse altogether, is somehow carrying her words with perfect clarity.

"I keep it in a drawer, by the bed… I look at it every night, after I'm done with the day…"​

They all listen to her, as she speaks. They all listen, and not a single sound is heard other than that of her words.

After all, the third rule, the most important rule, exists precisely for moments like this.

"But tonight, when I looked at it, I realized that… that it was a bit damaged. The paper was a bit wrinkled… the picture was… starting to show signs of age…"​

And the third rule is that…

… under no circumstances interrupt Her while She speaks.

"And that made me realize that… that one day, that picture will be gone, you know? One day, the one thing that I have to remember them by… it will be gone. It will turn into dust. It won't be there anymore."​

The young pegasus says that, as she looks down at her hoofs.

She looks down at her hoofs as if she is she is holding the picture at that exact moment. She looks down at her hoofs, as if she is looking at the memory of her dead family even as she whispers her next words.

"So I… I was suddenly struck with the thought that… that I should stop that? No, that wasn't it… I suddenly had this idea that… that I should do something about it. That it isn't fair… it isn't right, to let the picture turn to dust. To let it fade, day after day. It… it isn't right, so I couldn't let it happen."​

She says that, and suddenly… something happens.

It is not anything anypony can see. It is not something that is taking place in real life. However, even though the air is clear, and even though there is nothing to be seen in that room other than a group of ponies sitting around in a circle of chairs…

… for some reason, everypony can feel the smell of smoke. As if something is burning on the young pegasus' hoofs.

"So I… I burned the picture. I burned it. The last memory I had of them. I burned it all, until it turned into ashes… And the ashes burned my mouth in return as I swallowed them down." ​

The smell of smoke seems to be coming from her hoof, as if she is holding a burning picture that is slowly crumbling into a tiny pile of ash.

"And this burning sensation… I can still feel it. It still hurts… It will never stop hurting… This burn in my throat, it is part of me now… And they will never leave me again."​

She says that, and then she stares at her hoof. At her hoof, or at the memory of a picture she once held, or perhaps at the tiny, charred spot that she has there, from having held a flame.

And then she…

…

…she takes a deep breath, her eyes suddenly going wide and focused as if she just woke up from a dream.

"W-what?! When did I-?!"

And just like that, all the strange and dirty smells that had been weighing down the air disappear a moment later.

Soft Sweeps looks around her, almost as if shocked by the fact that she is here. She recognizes everypony, of course, and she immediately knows where she is.

But it is also blatantly clear that she has no idea how she got here, or what just happened.

"I-I… I have to go!" she says, more out of panic than anything else, and immediately jumps up from her chair.

"Hold on Soft, let me walk you home!" and Whacky follows right after her, like she always does.

Leaving everypony else… there, to wonder and discuss what just happened.

To write down the instructions they just received, of what they ought to do next.

On that night, they all took a precious item they had been holding on to. A stuffed toy that belonged to a foal, a cherished scarf knitted for a loved one. They all took those precious items, and they burned them. They burned them, in the privacy of their own homes, right before they went to bed.

They burned them, and then they swallowed down the dirty ashes that remained.

That night, sixteen of them had the Dream. Fifteen woke up to share the news with their fellows, and one of them woke with his lungs full of ash, as he almost did not survive what found him during his dreams.

And from that night onwards, their purpose was a little clearer.

Spoiler: A few days later

"What do you mean you want a job as a maid, Amor?"

"Well, it only makes sense! It would be awesome to work in the same place as you work. Besides, don't you think I would look great in the uniform?"

"Being a maid is… a lot more stuff than just wearing a uniform! And besides, I can't just get you a job like that. I-I just work there! I don't have that kind of power."

"Psht. Of course you do! And come oooon, I can't take seeing you just once a week anymore-"

"W-what do you mean by that?!"

"-can't you do this favor for your faithful Wacky?"

"… fine… I'll… see what I can do?"

"Huzzah!"

Just a group of ponies dealing with their own problems.

 

[angelsadvocate666]

…Man, Ponyville sure likes their Cults, huh.

 

[BritBiscuit]

So I know we don't get punished for influences mechanically or narritively so take what I say next as just a thought of something that has no affect but is 'fun' to think about.
Due to this influence being a knife on a necklace which we explicitly can't remove till its over all I can think of is how Velvet despite knowing that it can only cut herself would hesitate to hug her daughters or husband just as an automatic reaction to 'oh I have a sharp object on me, I better not hug them or they might get hurt.' it would be a microsecond of hesitation that she would immediatly correct with her knowledge of how it only hurts her but every time she would go to hug someone until the influence is over she would be cut slightly. A case of love hurting but being worth it all the same. As I said no influence on the game or the story but its just fun to think about how all these eldritch things affect day to day life over the turns, like how the knock influence forces everything nearby open. (Side Tangent: if this weren't a quest with balance to not punish players for following mechanics and instead just a world would a high level knock influence on someone unprepared do horrible things? Such as making it so for the entire month you cant close your eyes as they deny light passage. Small details that never would come up in a story or game for balance or focus on other things but you can just interpret as being part of the world if you extrapolate a bit are really cool in my opinion)

Edit: damn an update as i was typing cool im going to read that now.

 

[DelightedOne]

Yay, update and it is grief related. Twilight related?

That Amor sounds nice if she wants to help Twilight, maybe Soft will talk to her? The Golden Oak Library looking so rotten is disturbing.

Okay, things are creepy now and weird... I legit forgot they were a Wolf cult(even if they don't know that yet).

Nothing good comes from the Wolf. That thing always finds a way to make things worse. I'm glad Amor did not knock on Twilight's door now and hope Soft manages to at least learn how to fight the Wolf's influence when we do the All-4 family teaching action.

Anyone still thinking of doing any more RA's when 3 has Soft teaching that kind of stuff to grieving ponies?

Just like every other week, she can feel the thing that is emanating from that place. Like a strange warmth that comes from an invisible bonfire, or a strong smell that sticks to the coat.

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Umm, Element of Magic thing or a Wolf cultist feeling extreme negativity thing?

 

[angelsadvocate666]

Side Tangent: if this weren't a quest with balance to not punish players for following mechanics and instead just a world would a high level knock influence on someone unprepared do horrible things? Such as making it so for the entire month you cant close your eyes as they deny light passage. Small details that never would come up in a story or game for balance or focus on other things but you can just interpret as being part of the world if you extrapolate a bit are really cool in my opinion)

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I mean, in our experience any high level Influence on someone unprepared does some horrible things. Even if the person thinks they are prepared. Edge made Comet a legitimate monster, and Moth was like a fucking drug trip when it hit Velvet early on. The Grail Influence we called didn't even actually overwhelm Velvet and there was still a vote to… well.

Powerful Influences are really freaking scary. There's a reason canon CS compared then to the direct attention of an Hour, and that… well, that can kill people, if they're not strong enough.

 

[Sveta08]

Umm, Element of Magic thing or a Wolf cultist feeling extreme negativity thing?

Click to shrink...

I... It's... I don't know. It's too...
Sticky is the wrong word, but it's close.

It could be Lantern. It could be the brightness of insight and awareness that, even shattered and broken into herself that Twilight is under, she has. That she endures not quite whole, but burnt, carrying with her the ashes of what once was intermingled in her pelt. Like a sunburn, scorched from the exposure, from the learning.

It could be Wolf. The blighted pain of enduring Winter despite unimaginable Edge. The suffering that is so thorough and complete that it envelops themselves, manifesting in the world itself. That the decay of something dying but not dead, suffering without end and goal, that could be what calls to them.

The wolves hound the walls of the Manus, home of that which is Glory Bright.
The Wake reflects the Manus as much as the Manus reflects the wake.
Of course they hound.

But I don't know which way it leans.
And I don't think I'll delve into it to find out.

 

[Pharohman777]

Therapy group turns into self-organizing cult. Impressive.

I wonder if Velvet is going to be recognized by the cultists if they get close by the wolf-wound in her soul spilling out a presence they are attuned to via Soft Sweeps wolfiness.

Velvet is marked by an hour themselves, so it seems reasonable.

 

[spiderhellian]

Oh, a good reminder of one of those things that's happening as the world turns. Yes, grieving has an apostle, and rules. Of course it does. I love Soft Sweeps.

And I'm reminded that Soft Sweeps!Quest would be so interesting. Probably worse from many PoVs, and a hell of a lot grimmer, but it would be wild. Like what does her channeling the Wolf, and also not being self-aware and absconding as soon as she's "shared" her "orders" look like when it comes to turn planning?

Umm, Element of Magic thing or a Wolf cultist feeling extreme negativity thing?

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I definitely think it's an attunement to the undying agony that the Treehouse currently embodies.

Ponyville is a growing town, and it has already started to feel the touch of progress. However, that progress so far has only been in the realm of quantity, rather than quality. A few more streets have already been beaten into the dirt, and new houses have been built where there was once only grass. But still, no roads have been paved yet, and the ground has not yet been kissed by concrete or iron or the things that form the foundations of larger buildings.

That might happen very soon, or perhaps that might never happen during any living pony's lifetime.

Click to shrink...

On an entirely different note, I would really like a social action talking to the Mayor and Filthy about the growth of Ponyville sometime soon.

 

[BritBiscuit]

First of all as allways brilliant update, kept me on the edge of my seat.
I really like how the world is built and consistent in even just the little descriptions of places like this

still mostly rely on mundane methods, such as magic or fire, to pierce through the darkness

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it's such a small part of the update but it really adds that consistency to the world, putting magic lightings as a mundane thing, its the normalicy of the fantasy elements of MLP that really make it a consistent world with people and a culture where of course when a third of your population can do magic of course magic is mundane its normal, just a small part that really brings it to life.

When I was first reading the bit with the treehouse I was worried that Amor was a cultist of Copper come to convert Twilight so good suspence and mystery building there, I also thought Amor was close to Amore, Candance's last name so I thought it was her in disguise to come check up on her.

The Wolf Cult doing some violent euthanasia to their most far gone patients for therapy is pretty grim but what can you expect from a bunch of damaged people desperate to keep their one shining light (or burning flame..) from going out or away. The whole new method of reaching the Mansus due to the birth of Ash is pretty cool (well hot) and Amor seems to have a natural leaning to lantern with her carvings. Soft Sweeps being a cult leader without knowing is pretty funny and dark at the same time, i'm just imagining when the Bureau gets a mission to hunt cults once the Lores proliferate across the country and Soft Sweep being in a Breaking Bad thing where shes above suspicion due to being related to a member of the DEA/Lunar Bureau whilst people are basically worshiping her.

Also real ironic that if Windy stuck around he would have had a Wolf cult to get some Wolf philosophy and join.

 

[Shaper47]

And soon enough, yet another body is buried and forgotten in the tree-covered outskirts of Ponyville.

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What a waste, we have sacraments we could use sacrifices for you know daughter.

Sometimes, she will just carve a little blocky mansion with two tiny dogs sleeping in front of it.

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had a carving of three dogs, all running after each other's tail in a circle. Three wolves, as opposed to the two she had been accidentally carving this whole time.

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How adorable, we should go play with our sons sometime.

it is part of me now… And they will never leave me again."

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That has implications, especially regarding the Lore of Moth. Because Moth was the lore of the Woods, and if what remains of the Woods are part of Velvet. What does that say about the Principle of Moth?

and one of them woke with his lungs full of ash, as he almost did not survive what found him during his dreams.

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We should tell our son Ash not to attack our loyal minions.

Maybe it's time to bring them into the fold.

 

[Pharohman777]

Is this a Moth-aligned wolf cult? One pegasus removed a eye to see better, Soft sweeps doesn't know what she's doing, Amor is woodcarving without looking at what she's making...

 

[BritBiscuit]

I mean, in our experience any high level Influence on someone unprepared does some horrible things. Even if the person thinks they are prepared. Edge made Comet a legitimate monster, and Moth was like a fucking drug trip when it hit Velvet early on. The Grail Influence we called didn't even actually overwhelm Velvet and there was still a vote to… well.

Powerful Influences are really freaking scary. There's a reason canon CS compared then to the direct attention of an Hour, and that… well, that can kill people, if they're not strong enough.

Click to shrink...

Yeah I was thinking that and I could have phrased it better but I meant horrible things as in actively harmful to their physical health, such as Knock keeping wounds open or Lantern making your ability to gather information/sensory input so high that it actually burns out you nervous system and brain. Because yeah they all have mental effects but what would happen if someone entirelly uninitated on the Lores got the highest level influence, they would go insane obviously and wouldn't be able to control themselves, but would they die and if so how for each lore? Just fun side thoughts.

 

[Limabot]

Huh. I guess the therapy group is becoming corrupted at a significantly swifter rate than I was expecting. I thought it would take at least another Wolf or two to start killing ponies, yet they have been doing it with just Evil and Paranoia. At this rate, I could see them destroying most of the country by Wolf 6, even if we never unleashed the seed in Soft Sweeps.

Also, it's interesting that she seemed to have been sleepwalking for this. How long has this been going on?

 

[BritBiscuit]

Is this a Moth-aligned wolf cult? One pegasus removed a eye to see better, Soft sweeps doesn't know what she's doing, Amor is woodcarving without looking at what she's making...

Click to shrink...

I think its more of a Wolf (Edge/Winter) Cult but like our old Moth Cult people have their natural affinites, after all we had Lantern Adepts in our Moth Cult. They would likely all have Winter or Edge as at least 1 of their affinites just due to how they were found, whilst experiencing crushing loss and grief after monsters rampaged, the grief of the loss would make them either Winter as they are crushed by the ending of their relationships/family or Edge due to the anger grief (or desire for revenge) can cause.

So yeah probs 1 natural Lore and their secondaries much like how Soft Sweeps and Jade Whistle had an option to change would be Winter or Edge.

EDIT : Im just guessing but I assume due to the Wolf nature of the Cult removing the eye would give that Pegasus a burning agony to balance out the agony of the lost loved one that they were so crushed by they imposed in their perception their form on Soft Sweeps, a real Wolf way to solve imbalance of the mind. Oh your Agony is so great that you are losing grip on peoples identities and reality itself, just tear your eye out, the Agony of that along with the symbolic nature of the eye being removed would grant you the clarity to see reality.

Amor I would say is a Lantern not Moth due to the semi oracle nature of what she carves, Moth woodcarving would likely be indecipherable and maddening but Amor's carving is exposing and putting to form the hidden things of the World, it is kinda the opposite of Moth is.

 

[Pharohman777]

Wait, Whacky, the mare who was speaking for the dead in the support group works at Velvets place as staff or something?

 

[Pharohman777]

The way Soft sweeps leads unknowingly along with the other things like carving without knowing what you make or losing an eye to 'see' what has me thinking this is a moth aligned cult of the wolf. Moth/Winter/Edge is what I'm thinking.