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Horror hangs about this house... (Closed, see OOC)


Blueblood

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The summer air hung thickly about the crypt, in a haze of grey and dirty green, thick enough to stifle all screams.  For three weeks the weather had stayed like this, as if the sky were trying to smother the earth in its bed; for three weeks the night had brought no relief, as if the moon could hold by reflection all the cruel heat of the sun.

 

And for three weeks, Prince Blueblood had become more and more certain that he was going mad.  He had taken this trip to his country house, partly out of a desire to be quit of Canterlot and its attendant cares, partly to recuperate from his first visit to Whitescar, and partly to decide what he was going to do about the great rotting heap of wood and masonry.  Now, it seemed, the more relevant question was what the house would do about him.

 

He’d arrived, expecting the normal gothic trappings of aristocratic decay; drafty windows, howling breezes, moonlight illusions of ghosts.  But from the first, he could not help but feel the presence of some more subtle malevolence. 

 

He had at first attributed it to the weather, and tried to put it out of his mind.  But for the past 20 nights, he had not woken up in the same place he had fallen asleep in.  At first it was the wrong side of the bed, then it was the floor, then it was a different room, and now he was waking up right underneath a headstone with his name on it.

 

The Prince let out a gasp, and then a groan.  His whole body hurt, not just with the stiffness of sleeping upon the earth, but as if he had been locked in some desperate struggle all last night.  He’d come in with a retinue of servants; none of whom had seen what happened to him all those nights.  Some had even had similar incidents happen to them, and not a few had fled afterward, fearing some dark magic.

 

After assuring himself that this was not his own grave, but that of one of his ancestors, Blueblood shook himself awake.  “This can’t go on.  Either I’m going crazy or…. Something really is happening.”  With a stilted, painful gait, he wandered back into the house in search of someone he could get to call a bath.  He needed to clean up… and then he was going to write some letters.

 

*There’s got to be somepony who knows about this stuff.  I’ll have my secretary to get a name of some expert in… whatever this stuff is.  Supernatural, paranormal?  Bloody weird, I call it.  And… best see if I can’t get a few other ponies, solid sorts, to counterbalance whatever lunatic I’m recommended.*

 

That resolution made, he began writing down a brief account of the incidents that had afflicted him since arriving.  Beside the odd bouts of sleepwalking, there had been strange, five-minute blackouts experienced by… pretty much everypony that stayed a while in this house.  Sudden feelings of chill and clamminess despite the heat, and the dreams!  Dreams of drowning, and being trapped in a burning building, the flames spreading like water leaking into a ship, determined to drag the whole down into an unmarked tomb-

 

He blinked.  His hoof was wet, ink pooling about a stilled quill pen and an upset pot.  The puddle spilled across the stationary, but it had not spread randomly.  Staring back at the prince was a fanged, grinning skull, too symmetrical to be coincidental.  He made to scream, but there was too great a tightness in his throat.  His lungs burned under the blockage, before bursting out in a series of gasps.

 

With dislodged heart still pounding in his skull, Blueblood sealed the letters and gathered the remains of his retinue.  He didn’t care what it cost to put them all up, he was sleeping in a hotel tonight!

 

~***~

 

The hotel had at first offered relief, but as Blueblood waited for replies to his inquiries, he felt something like the same atmosphere seep in.  This was the closest town to his country house, and had once been economically dependent upon it.  As it was, it had languished slightly, leaving few visitors or reasons for them to come.  Now, as he waited in the hotel lobby, there were none other than himself and the few who stayed with him.  He left a mostly full cup of coffee untouched, the stifling air made hot drinks unpalatable...

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Star Crusader was no graceful flyer like most Pegasus. Her heavy and bulky armor not only weighed her down, but also made flight a little more difficult than normally. But that... wasn't the case for her lack of grace. As years of wearing the armor and various other weights had trained her wings to easily fly with several ponies riding on her back. No... it was just the nature of her body. Large and powerful in form, and Large wings to boot. With each flap of the wings, it sounded more like a Griffon's thunderous drumming than a Pegasus's softer flipping.

 

So how did she stay afloat, one might ask as she seemingly soars closer to the ground while weaving between buildings carefully. Why, by practically beating the air into submission!

 

She eventually began to slow down. Her body tilted back allowing her wings to flap vigorously to slow her decent. Small objects like rocks, and buckets were blown away and sent tumbling down the street just before her hooves touched the cobbled street. Her wings gave one final flap, before streatching out wide – giving her muscles a chance to relax before being tucked away at her sides once more.

 

The young mare slowly trotted through the town. Her gaze slowly looking all around with stoic eyes. Perhaps she was looking for trouble? Perhaps it was just her normal resting expression? No one but her knows the complexity of a Crusader's life.

 

But why was this mare in heavy armor, carrying a large shield and flail, in town? Why it's simple. Her patrol is over, and she simply needed to make a pit stop before taking the return trip home.

 

She pushed her way into the hotel. Her gauntlet hooves clinking loudly against the tile floor. The noise made it sound like she was practically trumping up to the desk, even when she was taking softer steps than normally.

 

But... she stopped midway. Her wing's plumage were tingling. Trouble's afoot! All her senses immediately kicked to overdrive. Her Muscles tightened, ready to bolt out to stop what ever was causing this distraction. Her egal like eyes scanning every pony in the room, but they eventually stopped on one familiar white stallion.

The Prince? The mare thought, now relaxing. Her muscles might have relaxed, and her ears restored themselves back to their default position. But something was... off here. His eyes continued to scan him. But it was only when she noticed his disheveled mane, and minor signs of sleep loss when she realizes that he just looks.... troubled. Well... more than troubled. Disturbed. Fidgety. Paranoid.

“Sir,” She called out. Her voice easily carrying in the Lobby. “Is everything alright?”

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It had been barely half a week after her first mission with the EPIC team in Whitescar had ended, and Fire Walker was back home in Fillydelphia at the stately mansion known as 'Squallcoast Manor'. Her beloved Swift Squall was still technically 'deceased' to most of the world, and on 'mission' for a few who really knew. She had hoped they would have been finished around the same time, but like most things in life, her little wish would go unfulfilled for the time being. The mare kicked off her horseshoes as she started to rummage through her mail. During her stay in the Caribou lands, her mail had been forwarded to a private P.O box and then gathered up and arranged rather nicely into several piles by somepony in Swift's service. Probably Oak Branch, the butler of the household. There was a pile for junk mail, one for private, an empty one for bills and another for R.E.A inquires.

 

The red mare mare opened up a letter from Ponyville. Her kid sister actually wrote a real letter? While there were cute little pictures doodled on the side, the little filly apparently wrote a honest to goodness letter! She wrote mostly about her life in her new home town. There was also a small photo of her sister and a few of her friends, both old and new. Along with the adorable griffon chick Glimmer, were a few the older mare did not recognize, including an orange Pegasus filly and an chocolate brown coated unicorn filly who held up a little notepad that had the word 'cheese' written on it. How odd. It took the red mare a few more minutes of reading before she realized that her eyes were filled with tears.

 

Fire Walker sat the letter down and quickly wiped away the extra moisture as she scanned the table for more letters. There was a little note that explained that somepony, or even some Caribou had shipped her a full wooden keg of Whitescar Mead, and this barrel of deliciousness was now sitting in the manor's wine cellar. This would have to be tapped when Swift returned. A few letters passed through her hooves until one caught her attention. She was unfamiliar with the return address, but the seal on the back! She knew that one very well.

 

After ripping open the envelope, she scanned the letter. It was Prince Blueblood himself! And what he had written inside....Was rather disturbing. It was direct to the point and it was also rather messy. The good Prince needed help and he needed it now! The other letters could and would wait. She would alert the help that she was needed in Canterlot.......

 

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Several hours later, the mare found herself at the hotel the letter had mentioned. As she slowly cantered through the entrance in her griffon steel armor, she silently pondered if the good Prince had also invited her former adventuring companions, Dunder Blust and Muggo' Ale. Her favorite duo had traveled alongside her during her first mission with Blueblood. And while she doubted Muggo' would be there, considering he had given up adventure to concentrate on his family tavern, it would be nice to see Dunder again.

 

The mare entered the lobby and spotted the good Prince, along with an rather heavily armored Pegasus pony who had already engaged the royal stallion. She was a very imposing figure, but she did not appear to be threating Blueblood. Still, she would watch from the shadows. Her light armor did not make as much noise as traditional steel, so she could stay as quiet as the grave and see what this mare had in plan for the royal pony...

 

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"Good evening, Everypony. An especially good evening to your highness as well." Cooed a calm and serene voice from the other end of the room. for the first second when somepony looked over to the sound of the voice they would have seen nothing but soon there was a loud clap of thunder and a flash of lightning outside the window. A ivory white mare stepped out from the momentarily illuminated shadows and bowed politely to the assembled group. 

 

Foxglove was a tad surprised she'd recieved this letter from the prince. Asking her to be a consultant on a haunting in one of his family's historic mansions sounded like a dream come true. Houses that old are bound to have some sorta of history or apparitions that could be seen during the correct conditions... perhaps her publicist had been blabbing about her habit of sniffing out hotspots of the strange and supernatural, maybe the royal family's intelligence gathering was even better than she thought... but either way she was here now and honestly she was very excited about it. 

 

"Might I say it is a pleasure to meet you, Prince Blueblood. I've heard interesting stories about your family's manors and I'm glad you sent for me of all ponies."  She said with a calm smile on her face, looking to the strong looking pegasus at blueblood's side. "I trust this must be your bodyguard. It's a pleasure to meet you, My name is Foxglove." following her introduction she extended a hoof in greeting to the muscular mare.

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Why Blueblood would sent an urgent message like this only meant one thing: The prince needed help. And Dunder was happy to oblige, usually these jobs meant a fat paycheck and usually free food. Though Blueblood was asking to meet up in a hotel? Never had their briefing been in such a place, usually it was in a place where Blueblood could flaunt his wealth. Maybe the prince got curious and had a whole new type of mission for Dunder. Not that he'd mind, just that he would expect something a little less formal. Why else would the high profile stallion take up the service of some janky hotel in the middle of nowhere important?

 

Dunder landed in front of the hotel entrance, smoothing his wings and mane before standing up straight and trotting in. To his surprise, there seemed to be a congregation. The first pony he noticed was the tell-tale crimson tail and white-armored flank of a mare he was ecstatic to see. There also seemed to be another attractive mare, made of complimenting colors. And of course, The good ol' prince was talking to a suit of armor.

First things first.... Dunder slid up behind Fire, the custom chest plate not making any noise as he moved. He wrapped a foreleg around Fire's neck and surprise nuzzled the mare, rubbing his nose against her neck in a nuzzle. "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

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All things considered, it was a very good thing that the Prince left the coffee untouched.  The three weeks' accumulation of unrestful nights had left nervy enough to shake in his horseshoes at the sound of clanking hoofsteps on the tiles outside; with the amplifying effects of caffeine, he might have completely gone to pieces.

 

As it was, Star Crusader's booming voice breaking into the tense atmosphere of the breakfast room like a demolition pony caused Blueblood to leap slightly, with a most undignified high-pitched "YI-ehee-ehheheh!"  He hadn't actually whinnyed aloud in years, but circumstances here were exceptional.  For a moment, his addled brain at first thought the ambulatory suit of armor was animated by some kind of possessing ghost!  But, a few deep breaths and a moment later, memories associated with the voice surfaced, and he was able to place a name to it.

 

"Ah, wait, you're... Fet Loch Duchess daughter... Star!  Star Crusader, yes."  His pounding pulse shook his words all out of meter and arrangement; the stallion was clearly on the edge, blinking desperately to keep some semblance of wakefulness.  "What... you doing here, didn't write you.  Did I?  Can't remember..."  And the Prince genuinely couldn't, such was his mental state.  He did, however, recall a certain incident in Whitescar, in which the armored mare had intervened in a most timely manner to rescue him from certain humiliation.  Not to mention grievous bodily harm.  "Well, good to see you, anyhow.  Been... bad.  House... there's something wrong in it."

 

Further explanation was forestalled by the imposition of a soft voice, followed by a loud thunderclap.  Prince Blueblood managed to stifle his whinny this time, though he still leapt in his seat.  Catching sight of the goth mare, however, he made an effort to compose himself, and even mustered a little bit of his charm when he smiled at her.  "The pleasure is all mine, miss... Foxglove, was it?  I'm afraid I'm not too familiar with your work myself; never, er, had cause to look into it before, but my secretary recommended you as an expert willing to, ah, come assist."

Noticing her introduce herself to the other mare as well, Blueblood felt that he ought to clear up misconceptions.  "Ah, yes Miss Foxglove, this is Star Crusader.  She... was just hired today."  He hadn't expected to say that when he opened his mouth, but on consideration, why not?  It didn't necessarily have to be a permanent position, and he would definitely feel safer with her about.

 

Speaking of safer, the sound of a familiar stallion's voice caught his ears.  "Ah, Dunder, there you are; and Fire too!"  The sight of his old adventuring companions served to calm his nerves considerably; while he had never been the adventuring type, more and more these days he found himself being dropped into them.  And at times like these, a friend to stand with one was invaluable; they had taught him that lesson some time ago, and Blueblood was re-learning it now.  Already, the atmosphere was growing less oppressive, even in a literal sense: the sound of thunder indicated the breaking of the storm, and the rain came down like a shower-bath, to cleanse and to awaken.

 

"Well, anyhow, I'm glad you got my letters.  Erm, I don't know how coherent I was; it's... not easy to explain.  I don't know, really, what happened, other than something... bad is in my country house.  And I won't stand for it!"  The breakfast things on the table rattled as he literally put his hoof down.  He'd had enough, more than enough by this time, of being terrorized and helpless.  The momentary outburst of exasperation seemed to leave him tired, however, and he slumped back into his seat with a sigh.  "Sorry for that.  Um, is there anything you wanted to know?  This is as good a place to ask questions as any."

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The towering mare couldn’t remember the Prince seemingly being so… frightened. It was a strange sight indeed. From the stallion with no martial training trying to stand his ground against a much bulkier pony with an unknown skill set, to a quivering mess like this. A truly disheartening sight indeed. Oh yes, the mare would be more than happy to offer her services to Blueblood if it means that he’d leave this rut a little sooner.

And it did seem that he remembered their introductions back at the party. She offered a ghost of a smile in a friendly gesture. The closest she can come to willingly breaking her years of conditioned stoic-ness. A stoic-ness so stoic, that she could be used as a masonry brick and not break her composure for years to come!

“Y-“ she started but paused briefly when she realized she needed to tone it down a bit. She started once more, this time her volume much softer, “Yes. I am Star Breezer’s daug-“ She stopped immediately as the prince began to talk once more. Or… well second guess himself it seems. It seems that he thinks that he wrote her a letter? She wouldn’t know, she’s been away from home for the past few weeks. Possibly just sitting on her little brother’s counter collecting dust.

Her brows scrunched together thoughtfully. Usually her brother is good about forwarding any urgent mail. Perhaps he didn’t? “No sir… I hadn’t received any sort notif-“ once again, she stopped herself as the prince continued speaking.

 

This time he appeared to be explaining something to her. An odd occurrence in his house? Least her suspicions were true about something troubling the poor pony. The mare’s slightly laxed stance grew immediately more alert once she was about to propose to serve him as her valorous duty commands her! That… was until a soft and ominous voice broke into the room… then a crack of thunder, and a strange pony was in the doorway just like that.

Her eyes curiously followed the mare as she trotted closer, most notably examining the more elaborate features in her appearance. Curled mane, purple highlights. No… there is a missing overly oily… plastic sheen. It’s as naturally shaded as the rest of her fur, so it must be natural. Hair holds no scorch marks. Curls are natural as well. Strange pattern, but not the strangest. Undeniably cute. But she didn’t have much interest in mares.

 

But why was she here and expecting the prince? Her mind was already spinning it’s sequences as she works things together. Blueblood had mentioned something about writing a few letters. This is perhaps one of the ponies that were designated to meet him. There were likely others too, which means that her presence was just a mere coincidence. Possibly the reason for confusion.

 

When the curious mare finally approached her. The mare felt it was best to correct the situation. “Er… no ma’am. I am not yet cont-“

 

"Ah, yes Miss Foxglove, this is Star Crusader.  She... was just hired today."

 

...Well that takes care of that. A royal draft so quick, her muscles had to lock up to prevent her from double taking in surprise.

 

Once again, she fell silent. Her eyes rocking to the Prince, and the mare. Then finally upwards as two new ponies were addressed. One Dunder, whom she was all too familiar with, she could spare a… a few centimeters of lip stretching for a smile. And then Fire Walker. Crusader’s eyes were already at work furiously analyzing her like they had for the creepily cute earth pony. The only thing missing would be a red laser going up and down each ponies’ body.

She… was more less vaguely familiar with the mare. The slate gray armor that valued utility more than aesthetics spoke enough that she was a militant of sorts. If it wasn’t for previous knowledge of the mare’s family line, Crusader would have guessed a mercenary. But that sort of guess would quickly prove to be incorrect. Oh yes, well groomed. Hair manageable and out of the eyes. Feathers are well cared for and carefully arranged. All of this spoke an heir of discipline without it being shone. Clearly a soldier.

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Fire Walker watched in silence as another figure appeared in the room. This time it was a pleasant looking mare...Wait a second. She had seen that pony before? But not in person. Who was she? It was on the tip of her tounge. She knew it was also the name of a flower. She had seen that face on the back dustcovers of some of her younger sister’s books she would have laying about the house. These books were of the horror variety. Spooky haunted houses. Creepy and creaky crypts. Tombs filled with spooks looking for a ‘swinging wake’.

 

The name nearly fell into place as the mare introduced herself as ‘Foxglove’. That was it! Now that it was obvious that the good prince was not in any danger, the R.E.A officer started to head over to the small group of ponies when a familiar scent drifted by her nostrils. A bakery crossed with a blacksmith’s shop. That was.

 

“Dunders.”, she whispered as her former colt-friend gave her a of a ‘friendly’ greeting. Probably a bit too friendly for her taste, but considering what had been going on with her life at the moment, she let it pass. Her heart sunk a little once she noticed Muggo’ was not at his side. Guess he did finally give up adventuring. What a shame. And while she wanted to spend a moment to chat with her old friend, there were pressing matters they needed to tend to first. She gave him a friendly ‘boop’ on the snout with a free hoof, “Always great to see you.”, she added with a smile.

 

She overheard the good Prince call their names, so she made her way towards the ponies. As the Pegasus drew within the respectable limit near Blueblood, the red mare gave a proper bow, “Your Grace.” She also gave off a friendly nod to the writer, Foxglove, and the armored mare. She had seen this girl before, but where? Possibly in training camp. She paused to listen to what he had to say.  Something ‘bad’ in his country house? What could I be? Bad enough that he needed three armored soldiers and one horror writer? Actually, what was with the writer being here? Did he want somepony to write about this? She then realized something horrible. Foxglove. She was there in Ponyville. When -it- happened. When they all ran into some pesky magic that did something to them. While most of what happened now felt like a dream to her, Fire wondered if the writer remembered their little adventure together?

 

Yes, Your Grace, I am curious...”, she tried her best not to ask this somewhat awkward question, but it had to be done. “What do you need us to do? If there is a calamity in your house, could you please describe it in detail?”

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Dunder was taken aback, she seemed disappointed. He could read her body language fairly well after how long he had known her. He just stood there, looking dumbfounded. Was it the nuzzle? Maybe a bit much... but she did respond with a boop to the nose and a smile. "It's always great to see you too." He smiled back. He wanted to talk, it had been a while since he'd seen her. And she would probably understand if he said that he missed her. But she seemed to be pulled by the matter at hoof, off she went to greet the others. He followed alongside. There was Fire, the Prince, the suit of armor, and the mysterious mare introduced herself as Foxglove. The name rung a bell, especially on books, but the specifics weren't coming to his mind yet.

The stallion waved to the prince, not nearly as formal as Fire. But she was in the military, the relationship was a bit more of a professional one. Meanwhile, Dunder just smiled at Blueblood, "Hey! How is it going, Blueba--" Fortunately for the prince, Dunder was cut off when he finally got a good look at the mare in the suit. "By the sun's glorious light, Star Crusader." He grinned excitedly as he slid over to the only mare he knew who could stand shoulder to shoulder with the pegasus, "You crazy hunk of meat." Dunder said and clasped his hoof around hers, pushing and pulling as best he could against her strong foreleg. The stallion huffed hot breath out of his nose and smiled, "REA have you pushing too many pencils?"

He then turned to the mare who he had yet to introduce himself yet. "By the way, hi Foxglove."

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"Hm... I'd rather like to talk to your secretary when this is all over and done with if you don't mind, your highness." The mare smiled to the duo and chuckled and strolled over to a nearby chair and sat herself down, laying her umbrella at her side. "So, your highness, what exactly has been annoying you and haunting your house? Does it ever appear as a pony or does it never show its self, instead messing with your head to it's own delight. Could you tell me when these events first started and if any more mundane events may have coincided with them?" 

 

"And Hello to you too, Stranger." she said with a chuckle, "Are you hear to help the prince as well, or just to hit on the lovely red mare over there?" she asked, a playful bite in her tone.

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There were many kinds of magic in the universe, besides that which manifested as the Spells of Unicorns.  Some were the Great Powers of Nature, barely controllable save by the most strenuous and directed efforts of alicorns.  Yet others escaped the common grasp by their subtlety; the word 'atmosphere' is entirely appropriate to them.  They surround, pervade, color, and in some respects control the ponies within them, and yet they are almost ephemeral in their nature, dispelled by the smallest of actions or voices.  Often, one is not even aware of their presence until they are suddenly absent.  Perhaps they were but symbols, or brief representations of far grander conflicts on another plane of existence, that of the spirits...

 

In this moment, Blueblood felt the absence of the atmosphere of fear and oppression lift, but it left him powerless as to how to explain what it was, or how it had come about.  He had not the brains to be a writer, as would be quickly apparent to the author mare in front of him as he tried to answer her questions.  "Well, I... I hardly know what it is, you know, never saw it.  More like... felt it, in the air, you see?  From the moment I stepped into my house... I didn't feel as if it were my house, but the house of someone who hated me.

"I tried to shake it off.... thought it was the weather, see?  It's been very hot and muggy, I... never liked inland climates.  But... every day it got a little worse.  Things... fell apart, on top of us... we couldn't sleep... and in the past few days... we began to actually see things.  Faces... shapes in the shadow-"

 

All the time he'd been speaking, the Prince had been looking to each of the ponies in front of him in turn.  To the reticent recent hire, who though silent, looked competent and faithful; to the cute consultant on creepy, listening to his tale with unexpected patience; to Fire Walker, steadfast through anything; and finally Dunder, who more than any other pony present could dispel the fog of fear, as with a flap of his wing, or his gums.

 

But that fog was not taking it lying down, for as the alabaster unicorn's eyes roved around the breakfast table, he caught sight of an accidental splash of spilled jam and butter on the tablecloth... that formed the fanged skull which had haunted his visions!  It was more clearly defined now, enough so that the dark bits of strawberry in the jam seemed to drip from the fangs like blood.

 

Blueblood sat frozen, transfixed by the eyeless sockets of the apparition, a breath of stale, hot air caught in his throat and choking him.  For a moment, he seemed really turning blue from asphyxiation, blackness creeping in from the corner of his vision...

 

 

A cry, a crash!  And the spell was broken.  Somepony's hoof had knocked over the coffee carafe, blotting out the image.  The rain poured down with renewed force, cooling the atmosphere and relieving the chokehold on the Prince's airways.  With a gasp, the unicorn sat panting for a minute, before looking up at the gathered party.  "You... saw that... right?  You... felt it?"  He reached out with wavering magic for a glass of water, taking a nervous gulp.  "I'm not crazy, I know there's something there.... something evil.  I want it out.  Out of my house, out of my life!  I don't care if its an exorcism, or just burning it *down!*"  His voice cracked on the last syllable, skipping an octave.

"I need you with me," He choked out, trying to keep steady as he got off of his seat, brushing a sweat-slicked mane back from his face.  "I can't do this... can't face this alone.  Can't run away, don't you know?  Coward's way out, and besides..."  His blue eyes strayed back to the breakfast table.  "It's following me, whatever it is."

 

 

Already outside, there was a cab waiting, a large and roomy one... for four regular sized ponies.  With the addition of Star Crusader, the trip might get a little cramped, though honestly now it looked like Blueblood would be more comforted by the closeness that concerned with the propriety of it all....

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Star Crusader kept her silence as the militant, the writer, and the prince all seemed to be conversing with each other at once. It seemed Blueblood was having problems with unresting spirits. Though her stern behavior did slightly break, with a small blink when a voice pulled her out of it.

 

Once again the mare broke her impassive expression, and allowed a ghost of a smile to curl her mouth just a little bit. The mare’s hoof effortlessly resisted the other’s attempts at breaking it’s position. When it pushed, She pushed back. When he pulled, he pulled back. And just as he huffed out a puff of hot air. So did she. With visible steam and a small sparkle of respect. Must be a hoof shake the two had been very familiar with for some time.

 

“No. I believe the REA would think that would be a waste of my efforts. Though documents are important, they instead have me patrolling and investigating. I do worry for the safety of those I apprehend. Most convicts wish to fight. It does not end well for them.”

 

Her eyes slowly shifted away from Dunder to gaze off to empty space. Was that shame? Embarassment? Or annoyance? It was hard to tell with her unchanging expressions. But with the aid of a pony whom new her for some time… he could probably tell it was the first two.

 

Her eyes did… find something peculiar. What was that over there? There on the table. It was an odd sight. A glare provided by a residential evil, but there were no source! Definitely evil was afoot. But something did click in the mare’s head. Seemed that conversation jogged something into the mares head. Her gaze soon turned to Blueblood only moments after his freak out. Her brow raised, noticing that the male’s color was returning from a bluish state. Her eyes scanned a bit further. No signs of marks on the necks. Eyes aren’t tinted red. He almost feinted from a panic attack possibly. Or… this spirit has more power in this world than she thought.

“Yes, your highness. A skull in the jam. I am reminded of something, highness. I am willing to be your body guard for the rest of this adventure. But I must remind you that my superior had turned in a form to your secretary to formally assign me under your command. Oh… and she asked me to tell you, “Your secretary is fun.”

 

This entire sentence had been said with a completely straight face.

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Oh dear. She caught Dunder’s look of disappointment. In the past, she would have made that all go away with her special ‘Pega-kiss’ magic. Now, things were different, and while she still wanted to see her old friend smile, there were other things that needed to be taken care of. Royal things. She would have time to talk to the brown stallion later. She still needed to thank him for being such a great host for her little sister during the ‘World Friendship Expo’. The mare had spent a day there as well, with her current colt-friend and even made a few new friends as well. The highlight was a stay in a rather oversized pool that had intended to be used for sport, but instead she and the others had simply relaxed in the incredible, magical waters. What a day it was! While her little sister spent time at the stallion’s station, which celebrated his homeland. Wind Walker was still pretty upset over Fire’s breakup with the Pegasus. Still upset, and it wasn't even the mare's idea.

 

Fire Walker nodded her head awkwardly as Foxglove spoke. She really wanted to point out that the pair had met before, but it was still not the time to speak of other things. For some odd reason, she couldn’t help but notice how much her tail reminded the red mare of her toothpaste. Weird.

 

With her full attention now on the good prince, the R.E.A guard listened patiently to Blueblood as he spoke of what had been bothering him. Apparently there was a lot. The poor stallion had a few issues, which included not sleeping well. The mind tends to play games when you’re tired. And a severe case of Pony-Pareidolia was apparently one of the side effects. She followed his eyes as something else seemed to have disturbed him a great deal. Spilled jam and buttered appeared to form something that resembled a bunny with wet ears. What was so disturbing about that? It took her another moment to realize that she was looking at it through the wrong angle. Now it looks like a skull. Or a biscuit.

 

From his ramblings, it appeared he believed he was in fact being bedeviled by a spirit or group of spirits. Fire Walker was unsure about ghosts. Were they real? Were the dead able to walk about the earth after their bodies have long turned to dust? There was the odd little thing that existed at Swift Squall's home. What appeared to be a ghost of an long dead butler that continued to work at Swift's mansion. Was this really a ghost? Or maybe 'he' was simply an magical guardian that resembled a ghost. After all, there were other enchanted guardians located on property.

 

"We probably will not have to resort to burning down your home, Your Grace, but I will see to it that we discover and put an end to whatever is causing your problems.", the red mare spoke as gingerly and as friendly as she could muster, "But you will need to do one thing, You Grace.", she looked Blueblood in the eyes, "Relax. Whatever is causing this probably enjoys the sight of you freaking out. If you are strong, it can only get weaker."

 

Alright. That was just about the same thing she had told her sister after she had been very sure there was a hydra under her bed. That should work with anypony. She started to say something else, when she spotted the welcoming sight of an cab. "It seems your carriage has arrived, your Grace, shall we get in?"

 

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Dunder was pleased to see that he was wrong. Star Crusader was just as ferocious as he remembered, a useful asset to have around. Someone as meat-headded as him. Fire was a more supportive piece, and Blueblood needed to stay safe, but strong ponies ready to do whatever is needed were always useful. But, something in her eyes betrayed Dunder's own gung-ho attitude. The stallion could be a Dunderhead, but reading his friends was easy enough. Pain was what he saw. Just the sight was enough to have Dunder's foreleg go limp and ease its way back onto the ground.

"Good. I'm glad your talents are in use, hopefully we will find them more useful soon." Dunder said as he turned to the white mare, "Oh she is lovely." He grinned and swallowed the pain, "But her lovliness is for another."

Dunder cleared his throat. At least the mare's little sister seemed to treat him the same. And she was nice enough to take all the extra food home. An act of kindess, since the filly made it sound like they had nothing but slop to eat. Maybe she could tell him about how fast those tacos were devoured, at least that's what Dunder wished for in his head.

While the stallion was zoning out, the prince seemed to be freaking out. Dunder took a few casual spins, trying to catch sight of what was the subject of attention, until looking at the floor to see the blob in the shape of a blob.

"You know, you should have told me about the mystical tomfoolery and shenanigainry in the letter. My grandpa is a witchdoctor. All he needs is a few 40's."

When hearing about the cab, the pony took off into the air, "I'll fly. Eye on the skies and whatnot." He said, not very excited to be packed into a cab like canned potato slices.
 

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Hm, from what Prince Blueblood said, it seemed that he was very unnerved by the events that had plagued him. One of the things that gave Foxglove pause was how the prince changed his pronouns; 'I' became 'We' and 'Us'. "You said 'us'..." Began foxglove narrowing her eyes at the prince curiously, "Was there somepony else with you in the house, and are they here now... or is this the aforementioned feelings of supernatural accompaniment?" Foxglove's tone was one of geniune concern, she got a bit closer to the prince looking right into his eyes before backing off and thinking for few moments.

 

She like a few other ponies had failed to see this fanged skull of which the  prince spoke, the mare simply took her umrella and walked over the carriage that was here for them. She didn't hesitate to jump in teh carriage and take her seat at the edge, "So, my prince. does the house have a history of any kind? any rumors about former ancestors who lived in it? If you can't think of any... it's possible your house may have a lot more secrets than we think... also how old is it exactly?" The ivory pony put her umbrella down beside her and chuckled a bit, "Miss Walker is right on all her accounts. Burning down you home is rather extreme."

 

Foxglove's brow perked at the mention of Dunder's grandfather... she'd need to remember to ask if she could meet him sometime...

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Whether it was fear or the forces of the otherworld that had temporarily strangled Prince Blueblood in their grip, they had been banished, and that by the Power of Friendship!  The Prince had always looked a little askance at Twilight Sparkle when she talked about that sort of thing; up until recently he had little practical experience with Power or Friendship, and thus no conception of any connection between the two.  Well, if he got through this, he'd be more than willing to eat those looks in front of the purple alicorn.

 

"Hoo-o-o-o..."  He let out a deep breath as Fire Walker encouraged him to relax, shakily getting to his hooves.  "Thank you.  It's had plenty of time to strengthen itself over the past week, I'm afraid.  Not just from my fear, either."  He turned to the gothic writer to address her question.  "I don't tend to travel alone; I took my secretary and a couple of maids with me.  Most of the house hadn't been dusted in years, you know!  I've sent them off, though.  No sense entangling them as well; they certainly didn't sign up for it."  Say what you will about Blueblood, he was far from a cruel boss.  

 

Speaking of that, however, his newest hire had a somewhat surprising word about his last but one.  "Psmith?  Fun?"  That wasn't exactly a word the Prince would automatically associate with the loquacious and lanky young unicorn, but then again, they weren't exactly acquainted outside of work hours.  "Huh.  Well, then I suppose your CO can borrow him for a week, whoever she is.  High time he had a vacation, anyhow; he's done good work keeping the IMAGINE record, as well as the work I have for him personally."

 

By the time they emerged from the hotel, he was in good enough spirits to return Dunder's words in kind.  "Alright, then; next time I'll leave you behind and invite your grandfather.  I'm sure he won't mind accompanying three mares on some adventure or other, ha!"  Not the strongest attempt at humor, but even a weak candle shines in the darkness.

 

The male pegasus had elected to fly alongside, leaving the cabin to the other four.  Even then, it was close; Blueblood found himself pressed between Foxglove on the one side, and Star Crusader on the other.  It was... actually kind of nice; the cool touch of the bodyguard's armor did much to relieve the general mugginess of the day, and the strong muscle underneath made a comforting rock to rest in the lee of.  On the other side was reassurance of a different kind, a cool competence coupled with a warm expression, a friendly guide in the hostile territory of the otherworld.

 

"Well..."  The Prince thought back to the house to which they were returning.  "I don't know much about the house itself; the land's been in the family as far back as records go.  Actually, it's been rebuilt several times over the centuries, for various reasons.  Fire, flood, change in architectural fashion... the crypt's actually older.  Most of my ancestors were buried there, though my grandfather was the last to have his remains interred there.  I'm afraid I don't recall many more details; we'd actually come to sort out the place and its story, before all this..."  He waved a hoof vaguely to indicate the full sum of the strangeness he'd had to bear.

 

~~~

 

As the carriage approached the winding road that led to the Blueblood country house, the rain returned; or rather, they returned to the rain.  Rather than falling, the drops seemed to hang in the air, like heavy veils draped to cover some dark secret.  Pushing through, the travelers would crest one hill, and see it.

 

The house itself spread like a growing fungus over the span of a valley.  There was still something about it that spoke of grandeur, most especially the classical marble colonnade that dominated the facade.  But the rest of the building seemed not constructed to match.  Rather than stone, most of the rest was made from wood and brick, not a bit of it older than 200 years.  From the perspective of beauty, it would not be too great a loss to burn it down and wait for a better style of architecture to come into fashion.  

 

Not that you could get a match to light on the great wet heap.  It looked as if it had always been raining in this place, without washing away any accumulated grime.  The water dripping down the walls seemed to actually be oozing out of them, like some loathsome liquid corruption of an eternally rotting corpse.  

 

On the hill behind stood the crypt.  The front of the house blocked most of the view, except for a single spire shooting out of the mausoleum like a rocket in stone.  It was gothic in style, from the age when gothic was new.  Erosion had taken some toll on it, but not destroyed a kind of piercing purity about it, at least in contrast to the shambling heap below.  It was as if the House of the Dead were a cheerier place than the House of the Living...

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  • 2 weeks later...

Star Crusader was honestly surprised to see the summer home Blueblood was staying at to be in such aweful shape. It made something suppressed deep down in the mare to cringe in disgust at just looking at it. That same emotion just wished to clean up the house… repair it… and bring it back from it’s fallen glory into something much more respectable. But… it seems to do so would be an effort terribly wasted on a fruitless task… as the only way to fix such a horrible error… was to remove it completely from existence.

She wasn’t vocal about her inner feelings on the matter. But she did have a light twitch of the right eye that lasted for only a brief moment. It’s a shame to see a work of art go under loved and experience the horrors of time.

 

The oldest child of the Dutchess of Fetloch soon turned her gaze down to Blueblood… whom was presumably shaking out of his shoes. She thought of something to say to help put him at ease. But she was also certain… that there really wasn’t much that could be said. I’ll protect you? A wonderful thing to say if the threat was a physical creature. But the supernatural has always been a finicky sort.

At least… if one makes an appearance in spiritual form… they will be quite surprised to find out that the mare might not be able to use her hooves or flail on them… but she can certainly knock them back into oblivion with a slam of her enchanted shield.

 

But... it will eventually have to be done. The raised a heavily armored hoof, and did her best lightly clapse it on the stallion's shoulder. Her stoic expression mixed with the warm gaze of her eyes could very well be inspiring... or maybe terrifying with her imposing size... and mixed with a sudden crack of thunder right behind her.

“Relax, sir. I am sure that this will be over with sooner than dawn.”

 

She glanced upwards to the mysterious mare, in hopes for a confirmation. Or at least a lie. Anything to get the prince to settle down a bit.

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Fire Walker frowned a little as Dunder's grandfather was mentioned. He had met her parents, sister and even some of her brothers, however she never got to meet a single one of his family. Had he been ashamed of her? Or was it his family that he had been embarrassed of? She did not even know he had a sister until the tail end of their relationship. This had always bugged the mare, but had they stayed a couple longer than they did, she would have eventually sought to fix this little problem. Even with their breakup, she did still care a good deal about the fuzzy pegasus pony, and was not too keen on his request to fly outside in the horrible weather. Still, it was his call, and she did not want to embarrass him in front of the Prince and the others.

 

~~~

Once inside the cabin, Fire found a seat near the window and watched as Dunder vanished into the night's sky. After letting out a sigh, she turned to the others. One in particular, which was the writer, Foxglove. Once conversation had stalled between the three, the young officer leaned a little closer to the purple eyed mare. "This is rather odd.", she whispered, "When we are finished with this, I need to give you something. Something Sir Swift Squall had requested that I give you. A book, a rather old one covered with mystic symbols and something eldritch-y. If I had known I would end up running into you, I would have brought it with me." What an odd world they all lived in. There were millions of ponies living on this big rock they all called home, but somehow she managed to run right into the pony she needed to see. "Once we have helped the Good Prince, I will need to see about hoofing the book over to you right away."

 

And while this was an awful, horrible night, she had at least had something to look forward to. Prince Blueblood's country house. Say what you will about him, the stallion had such an impeccable taste! Even with the issues that bedeviled the stallion, the house was probably kept up well....At least she believed it would be. "A crypt at your summerhouse? How unusual." These homes were traditionally built to escape the city's heat and headaches. One would go to these second homes to rest and relax. Why anyone would think about burying their loved ones here was beyond her.

 

Once they arrived and their hooves touched the ground, the mare took notice of her surroundings. The horrible, horrible, surroundings. Ugh.

 

"Oh dear.", she muttered as she tried to find something nice to say. She ALWAYS had something to nice to say about anypony and anything, but she could not find the words, so silence was her best option. With Star Crusader at his one side, Fire Walker took to his other. As long as she stood, no harm would come to the prince. Curious to where Dunder had gone, she glanced up, hoping to see him.....
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Dunder chuckled at Blueblood's quip, "Oh will you now? Good luck, he doesn't speak Equestrian. And will probably curse at you if he knows you know me." It was true the old stallion was a bit on the silly side. Dunder had to get it from somewhere, afterall.

His armor clanked, but not as much as the heavily armored Crusader as the group exited the building to the front. It must be nice being nobility. He thought while looking at the carriage. The stallion watched as they all crammed inside. Crusader was stoic as usual, not noticing that she was jammed against the prince. The suspension of the carriage stressed under the weight of the ponies. Dunder chuckled, but the closing of the door shut him up. That was his cue, no time to waste. He thought for a moment of Fire probably being concerned. She always did when he made a dumb choice.

Before he could stop himself and say anything, the pegasus looked up to the sky. To a pegasus, flying in this weather was like diving into the deep sea without a floaty. "Just follow the carriage." He muttered to himself as he brought his chest low and rump high, pouncing towards the sky. With a powerful flap of his wings, he took off.

AS they got away from the hotel, the weather cleared up, but only for a moment. When the rain came back it was stronger than before. For a summer home, this place was rainy. Not good for his body temperature. Only made worse by the metal keeping cold water from brushing off his coat. But still he stayed right over and behind the carriage, comfortably in the blind spot of the windows without actually knowing.

The pony could feel muscles resisting, and the tendons starting to tighten. "AHH!" The pony groaned aloud, in panic. Dull pain started to ebb at his feelings of happy wing muscles. "GRAHH!" The wing refused to extend and flap, causing the pony to barrel down and slam against the back of the carriage. The stallion clung to the back of the carriage "AHH! My wing! My wing is cramping!" He hissed, "It's this cursed weather! What kind of summer home is RAINING?!" He yelled to the sky, obviously frustrated and embarrassed.

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  • 2 weeks later...

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As the carriage bounced up and down on their trip to the manor. Foxglove began to ponder the various potential causes to this dilemma as the prince spoke. "The crypt sounds... interesting. If any of your ancestors' spirits are still there they may have a clue as to what's happening... and who know, your highness. WE may be able to take care of both your supernatural situation and the history of this place."

 

Subtlely, Fire walker leaned in and mentioned something to the author that made her eyes grow wide for a moment before she quickly regained her composure. There are many books that float around with a rather unnatural feel and a multitude of mystic symbols; More often than not, they were fakes. SOmetimes some sly conniving unicorn would cast a spell that could cause an object to give off an undefinable aura of uncertainty and eeriness. But usually they were harmless and didn't warrant someone to call upon a specialist in them unless... it was serious. My-my Business was booming this month it seemed for paranormal investigator. FOxglove whispered back to the red mare, "I'd appreciate that, I hope you kept it in a safe place."

 

Foxglove was glad it was only a cramp Dunder had gotten. She was hoping the source of the spiritual turbulence(if that was indeed what it was) was fairly limited, "MIster Blust, I'd reccomend you not do anymore flying now that we're reaching our destination." The ivory mare leaned her head out the window and inhaled deeply before suddenly coughing hoarsely as if she were choking, after a her intense fit she wiped a tear from her eye and cleared her throat, "hm... strange. The Air it feel like it's thick with disease that the mortal body can't be host to... I don't feel anger or vengeful feelings...just a feeling of oppresion and like all my dreams had been broken..." 

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Star Crusader's 'light clasp' on Blueblood's shoulder was more like a 'firm stomp,' but it did at least have the beneficient effect of shaking a blue funk off of him, at least momentarily.  "Whoof!  Well, that's the kind of optimism I haven't been able to muster for a while..."  He tried to take on some of his new bodyguard's assurance on his own shoulders as he stepped out of the carriage after Foxglove, but they soon sagged under the oppressive air.

 

"I don't feel anger or vengeful feelings...just a feeling of oppresion and like all my dreams had been broken...

 

"Welcome to my world."  The Prince replied ruefully, and his tone would have crystallized one element in the atmosphere and given it a name.  It was irony, the terrible crushing irony of great tragedies, or of a summer house perpetually choked by rain and bad weather.  "Believe it or not, it was beautiful place once; it was featured by one of the great landscape painters of a couple centuries ago, before some misbegotten muddler put on those excrescences in brick and mortar.  That's why they put the crypt on the hill there.  The 30th Prince, the one who built the house, wanted to be buried here because he loved the place so much, and so built the crypt.  I think it was my great-great grandfather who was buried here last..."

 

He coughed, and an incautious hoofstep splattered mud across his front.  Already, his mane and tail were hanging stringily down his neck and flank.  No wonder Dunder got a cramp up here; they'd all be sick if they stayed in this weather too long.  "Come on, let's get inside before we catch our death of cold..."

 

As the party got to the stone steps leading up to the great front doors of the house, they all had to take care to not slip on the slick stairs.  The door was a dark portal of carved oak, which had somehow resisted warping enough to not stick, but by Celestia did it creak!  It was like the joints of a rheumatic giant, opening on a dim and musty interior.

"The drawing room is to the left of this parlor.  It has one of the few fireplaces that will stay lit in this place, and we can get dry."  Blueblood's voice echoed off the walls, as his clopping hooves sounded on the marble floor.  

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  • 2 weeks later...
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“Oh yes, of course.”, the mare whispered back. “The book is currently being held in a very safe location. My father, Major Brass Hat placed it in a special locker designed to hold magical items.”, a thin smile formed on the mare’s face, “Poor guy thought he’d end up with a treasure trove of unique and magical items during his lifetime. When he was a very junior officer, he knew a guy who knew a guy who knew an unicorn that specialized in building such a thing. And while he ended up with a proper weapon and armor that had been enchanted, he never got to put anything in his box. So you can guess how excited he was when he finally got to use the thing.”

 

The pegasus pony started to feel rather odd. It was a familiar sensation, one she had not felt in months. Oh yes, it was the feeling of adventure, and a rather unique one as well! She had brave, trustworthy Dunder at her side, along with Foxglove who was obviously very clever and knew plenty about the dark world of spooky spirits. There was also the stoic Star Crusader, who she wished to know more about, and there was Prince Blueblood. While he had a rather poor record in the press and was known to be somewhat snobbish and arrogant, she knew this was not true at all, especially when it came to his family and their honor.

 

Speaking of her friend, the mare nearly leaped out of her horseshoes when the pony slammed into the Prince's carriage. Thankfully the ride was just about over when this had happened.  Once they had stopped, and the prince was secure. The very worried officer made her way out and gave the stallion a good lookover. With the exception of a nasty bruise or two that had already started to form under his coat, he was fine. But this cramping bothered her. It took her another moment to spot the bothersome muscles in his wing, "Hold still for a moment Dunders.", she reached into her saddle bag and pulled out a small tube, which she broke in half. "This is going to be a little on the cold side, but it will help numb the pain and reduce inflammation.", she pressed the tube against the cramped wing muscles. It was cold, but the pain almost immediately stopped.  "I would not do any flying for the moment, and you should test your wing once an hour to see if it has gotten any better." Being a fully trained when it came to minor on the field injuries, this all took the mare just a moment as she knew they needed to get moving before the weather got worse.

 

And worse it got. While she did not mind the rain, it was the mud she hated. "Erm.", she muttered to herself as they moved on. Thankfully a quick history lesson from the Prince made things a little more tolerable. And she was able to shake and stomp away the majority of the nasty stuff once their hooves his stone. This also gave the mare something to -like- about the house. Nice stone floor and an very interesting door! Hopefully they would be able to fix the squeak though...That sound was not pleasant.

 

As per her duties, the office kept her eyes focused in the darker areas of where they walked, ready for anything to leap out from nowhere. From deadly light-fearing grues to rodents of unusual size....

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  • 2 weeks later...

Star Crusader watched the small group talk among themselves for only a few more moments. Before she finally took note of Dunder’s state. Not only was he complaining about cramps… but his mane was also down. Hmm… it seemed that fire walker’s mane was weighed down as well. Like gravity had suddenly taken a much stronger pull.
 

Then… it finally clicked to her. The mare’s oblivious gaze turned to the sky, finally noting the storm that had been surging above. Now, in her defense, it wasn’t that she had allowed such a thing to go completely unnoticed by an unobservant nature. No… she was just one of the few guards whom dared to put themselves in a ridiculous situation as training. In her case… come tide, nor hail… she’d endure. And apparently grow to the point where she’d go sensory blind to the weather.

 

Her gaze turned back to the group. It didn’t seem like the other’s had gone through her conditioning. It might be best to alleviate some of the stress till everypony gets inside. She quietly stepped around the group, and squeezed her way into the middle, before spreading her wings out over every pony’s head.

 

Thin streams of water soon began to run down her shoulders, and off the tip of her wings. The crevices between her wing’s feathers made tiny canals that spilled out drop after drop of water. She followed the group into the house, before being forced to close her wings at the door.

 

And before stepping inside, Crusader looked down to her gauntleted hooves. She noted the mud that had been clumped up at her feet. No matter the condition of the house one was to step in, it would not be a kind gesture to track mud into their host’s halls. Especially if it belonged to the prince. And so, she sat down, taking the time to politely remove all four of her shoes and set them off to the side before stepping in. And strangely enough, the gesture didn’t seem to reduce the amount of noise she makes with each step. It just sounds… less metallic.
 

The mare stole a look around the adobe. Her eyes scanned every nook and cranny. Absorbed every hint of detail. And catalogued every nail and splinter in the floor boards. And, by the moon, were there a LOT of splenters.

 

The mare even went as far as testing the wall with her hoof. Her lips curled into a very thin frown when she noticed the amount of give it gave. And to make it worse… there were the sounds of splintering and crackling. At which she quickly forced her hoof to retreat.

 

“Hm… it seems that if ghosts will not be what we battle tonight. It may very well be the house itself when it decides to fall on our heads..” The mare noted. Her gaze returned to the floor boards, noticing the the lines between the boards were not nearly the same size… implying a shift and stretching of the foundation.

 

“The boards may be rotten through. And the foundation is in bad shape.” The mare slowly lowered her chin closer to the ground, eyeing the floor. And indeed… she noticed how uneven it was. It was sloped in one area… where she could see a crack running up the wall. And, there were dips in many other areas. Possibly meaning that something is on the verge of collapsing on the basement level?

 

“This house was built by the thirtieth prince? Then that means this house stood for twenty six more generations, with Blueblood being the fifty sixth… somewhere around seven-hundred eighty years.”

 

She lifted her head up, and scanned the interior. The house… did not seem to be that old. But the crypt did… when was the last time it had been remodeled?

“Reguardless… I believe this house may be a health hazard soon.”
 

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Dunder was disappointed at the fact that only Foxglove and Fire were the only ones who showed any empathy for Dunder's injury. Maybe the Crusader and Prince weren't as reliable as Dunder previously thought. Better to figure these things out early. After all, a false sense of security could be dangerous. Not that he wanted to believe in this ghost business, but previous engagements with the supernatural just made Dunder less confident.

As he thought Fire and Fox were the only reliable ones. Dunder knew the drill, he sat there and tried not to quiver at the cold rain until Fire's worry blew over after she learned for herself it wasn't nearly as bad as it could be. He didn't think much of her warning of the cold pack touching him, until the freezing thing made contact to his already cold wing muscles. After all, his wings only cramped because of the cold in the first place. Now his wing base felt like it was on track to getting frostbite. But still, after Fire was done, Dunder gave her a soft nuzzle. "Thank you." He said and smiled at her, now more than ever he felt happy to have her along for the ride.

Up they went, a few times Dunder almost slipped on the bevel and slippery steps of the staircase. Each time, though, he caught himself not eager to be victim of the second accident on the trip. His shaking body didn't help the trip either.

As soon as Dunder heard of a lightable fireplace, his eyes went wide and his desire to be close to Fire gave way to his desire to be close to fire. "Don't mind if I do." And Dunder's heavy hoofsteps echoed off the marble flooras he took off past Blueblood, taking the first left he saw.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Oddly enough, Dunder's suspicions of unreliability found their mutual mirror in Blueblood.  After all, nopony had forced the pegasus to fly outside.  If he literally did not have the sense to come in from the rain, how could they count on him to deal with dangers the common pony didn't usually encounter?

 

Granted, the Prince knew Dunder well enough to know that there was a little more at the back of the stallion than that, but really, with Fire looking after him, Blueblood's first priority was to look after the fire.  Thanks to Star Crusader's sheltering wings, the matchbook in his pocket had stayed dry, so igniting the flame was an easy business.  Or the kindling, at least.  The somewhat damp wood was a dicier matter, and he had to jump back at the pops and sparks it threw off.

 

"Ah!  Well..."  Brushing a glowing ember from his coat, Blueblood took a quick look around the room, noting all the shadows cast by the flickering light.  "Hm, well, I suppose the house is a bit dangerous by now.  Maybe this whole business is due to toxic mold spores, or something."  He frowned, realizing that even if that was true, the hypothesis didn't help much.  "Erm, no offense Foxglove, but perhaps I should have sent my secretary after a mycologist first."  

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