Pathfinder and the City of the Griffons (Phil the Time Wizard and SteelEagle)

[SteelEagle]

Every chapter of Daring Do was superior to eight hours of sleep. No doubt that science would back that assertion. How could it not be? Daring Do was like vitamins for a good, strong pony. And griffons. Gilda needed a transfusion of Daring goodness all throughout her mind and body until she gets to the nirvana that Pathfinder exists at, a state of Daring and Doing that transcended all pain and woe! Such was the fate for all true believers, just like Stallion Lee said about the Daring Do comics he drew up to volume three. Pathfinder crawled into her pile of books and rummaged through them unseen for a little while, making sure none of them were damaged too much. Then she found tonight's reading material!

"Ha! Gilda, when I'm through reading this story to you, you won't WANT to sleep. I know I don't. My head hurts when I wake up, and I have a crink in my spine! Tonight's literary delight is Daring Do and the Iron Grinder. Ooooh, shocking relevancy! Daring Do is captured by Diamond Dogs and must work with them in order to find their pack leader before she is allowed out! But there is treason ahoof, and who IS the hooded attacker known as Goblin Grave? Ooooh, spoooookkky story!" She trilled and played with her voice, making a ghost motion as she fell out of the pile and onto her face, the book sliding to Gilda.

"I'm having a hard time seeing, I think because of damage to my head-brainal area. If you could read that'd be great. Who knows, maybe this'll ALLLLL be ready to go when you're done!" She offered, gathering up some clothes from the pile and using them as a pillow, looking up at Gilda with a huge smile.

[RarityDash]

"Ha! Gilda, when I'm through reading this story to you, you won't WANT to sleep. I know I don't. My head hurts when I wake up, and I have a crink in my spine! Tonight's literary delight is Daring Do and the Iron Grinder. Ooooh, shocking relevancy! Daring Do is captured by Diamond Dogs and must work with them in order to find their pack leader before she is allowed out! But there is treason ahoof, and who IS the hooded attacker known as Goblin Grave? Ooooh, spoooookkky story!"

Gilda shook her head and sighed. This pony really was kinda an idiot and seeing her like this was just kinda sad. Gilda almost pitied the fillyfriend this pony had earlier claimed to have. Dealing with this exceedingly silly pony on a regular basis couldn't be easy. All the same, seeing what she was seeing now just made Gilda want to get out of there all the more.

"Diamond Dogs, eh? Daring Do does it all, I guess. Sounds like a good one, but..." she started in a low voice, wanting to at least humor the pony. "We really do need to pay close attention to our bodies and their limits... otherwise we're not going to survive down here long enough to get out..."

​

"I'm having a hard time seeing, I think because of damage to my head-brainal area. If you could read that'd be great. Who knows, maybe this'll ALLLLL be ready to go when you're done!"

Gilda gave another long sigh. She couldn't really deny this pony, could she? She was going soft in this place. Was it really all just because she saw Pathfinder as the one possible way out, or was she really somehow becoming invested. She didn't know, and either way it was just a drag. She grabbed the book and shook her head. She remembered the night they had first met, how Pathfinder had related from memory the contents of the first Daring Do novel. Now it'd be her reading one to the pony.

"Fine, I'll read the book, but you just need to make sure you try and get at least a little rest," she said through a groan as she opened the text. Slowly, she began to read the words on the page. "Daring Do and the Iron Grinder, by A.K. Yearling. Chapter One: A Perilous Trek. A cold, cutting wind howled across the vast and empty desert. The usually scorching Painted Pinto was certainly more welcoming in the dead of night, but even then there were dangers. On a moonless night like the one facing Daring Do, the faint light of the stars in the cloudless sky were all she had to go on. Visibility was poor and potential dangers lurked around every corner. It had been only a week since she had returned to Equestria from the primitive and remote Tenochtitlan Basin, and yet there in that wasteland she felt even further cut off from the world around her. She was looking for something, something important, something she needed to find, something that was supposed to be there in the desert. It was an artifact from the basin, a large jewel referred to by the locals as the Eye of the Serpent, said to contain a powerful magic. Hundreds of years ago, a griffon trader by the name of Garland swindled it off of a Tenochtitlan Priest and took it south to Equestria. It was the prize of his collection, kept for years in Beakbreak City, until such time as he decided to have it and himself moved back to Talonopolis. However, neither Garland nor the eye made it back to the griffon capital. All record of both ended somewhere in the desert where Daring Do found herself standing now. That was all she had to go on--old records and the hearsay of some primitive ponies. She had the entire vastness of the desert to search and not a clue to go on. It seemed all but hopeless, like she was fumbling about blindly. Turning back was, however, not an option. The eye needed to be recovered, and before any of her usual enemies thought to search for it themselves. She would find it, and she'd scour every inch of the desert to do so if that's what it took..." Gilda continued to read page after page from the novel, all the while taking the occasional moment to look at Pathfinder's expression.

​

[SteelEagle]

Pathfinder listened to Gilda the Gilded Griffoness of Griffonia gently- well, for her anyway as her voice still sounded like a pack of scythes cutting across rocks- read the story. It felt like the orphanage all over again, as if her life was a wave that rocked back and forth and ended up on the same patch of barren beach a thousand times over. The stories were different. They used to be parables and fairy tales with some danger and excitement designed to teach somepony life lessons. It was a rela bore! Daring Do was this cool modern mythology and it had so much more danger and was super cool. Let's see some of those old fashioned heroes stack up top Daring Do, eh? They couldn't! Too cool and too cute, almost too both of those things for words to accurately convey! They needed a new words to describe her. Cote! Super Cote!

Pathfinder placed her head on Gilda's totally functional wing and used it as a pillow, feeling comfortable against her warmth. It would be so exciting when their plan came together and they escaped like two felons en route to their epic adventure in some silly old Griffon city before they made their way to the real modern city and got the Helm back. They would be the most famous duo of all time! Griffon and Pony, best adventurers alive who showed everypony and everygriffon wwhat for. Then afterwards they'd be super rich and they could buy all the chocolate they wanted. Pathfinder would buy a catapault and use it to launch her big fat flank- remember, loads of chocolate- into the air so she could get a boost. Foalproof plans all around the Pathfinder! Then she'd lose track of Gilda and they'd become rivals. Path was clear. Clear and cool like a pool.

And so she fell asleep as Gilda continued, snoring and drooling on the griffon's wing as she continued the story. Hopefully by the time she woke up, they'd be halfway there!

[RarityDash]

"... 'Your resilience has proven impressive thus far, little pony!' a cold booming voice spoke before giving a harsh laugh 'but no one escapes the iron grinder and lives to tell the tale. Your bones will be pulverized to dust before the night is through! Then... then you will know what one gets for trying to take what doesn't belong to her.' Daring Do grimaced. She had been in more than her fair share of hopeless places, but nothing in her memory seemed quite as bleak as this. The whirr of the gears, the heat, the fire, the smell of molten iron mixed with rot and death... it was enough to overwhelm the senses. it wasn't like one of Ahuizotl's death traps, where she could see a way out. The shackles the dogs had placed her in wouldn't move an inch no matter how she struggled and fought. She was bolted in place and moving steadily toward her demise. Was that it? Was she truly going to die there that day? Never, even in her darkest places had she considered such a thing... but here... there was little hope she could see..." Gilda continued to read aloud, getting more and more involved in the story as she went along.

As it entered into its climax, she stopped herself and gave a small yawn. She looked down at Pathfinder for a moment. The ridiculous pony was lying against her wing, completely asleep drooling on her. Gilda gave a groan but didn't fight it. She really had no way of knowing when the pony had passed out. She honestly hadn't looked up from the text for quite some time now. She shook her head, closed the book and relaxed. She was eager to see just how Daring Do might escape from the iron grinder, but at this point, she was too exhausted to find out for herself, especially since Pathfinder would probably just have her read it all again for her the next night.

As sleep grew nearer, Gilda's thoughts turned from Daring Do's escape to her own. At least in her case, it seemed they had a plan. She wasn't entirely sure what would be gotten from working from Stormwing and Razorclaw. She didn't like a lot of it. All the same, it seemed as if there was a path toward freedom in front of them. They just needed patience and time. She only hoped that they wouldn't die of hunger and exhaustion in the mean time. Time passed and the thoughts spinning in the girffoness' head came to a stop and emptied out entirely. She gave one more heavy yawn and then she was asleep.

---

A groggy griffoness awoke with a yawn. Gilda lifted herself slowly and rubbed her eyes with the backs of her talons. A smile crept onto her face when she remembered the previous evening. Finally it was here. The day they had been waiting for had finally arrived.

Several weeks had now passed since they had been thrown into the Pit. They had been worked bare in that time, made to do grueling labor for their "job" during the day and then made to dig more for their freedom and for Razorclaw's schemes during the evening. It was an exhausting life and one where they were fed meagerly most of the time. Gilda was just starting to become convinced that it would be all for nothing in the end, that Razorclaw really was simply mad and no path to freedom would ever be found. Perhaps it was all a cruel joke and her and Pathfinder would merely toil away in this hole until exhaustion took them.

Then, last night happened. During their usual digging, they had finally broken through. A hollow chamber had been breached connected to the pit which would hopefully allow for escape. It had been too late at the time, Gilda too exhausted to try anything, so she had covered the hole back up... but now she was ready and it was time. Today was the day that they would break free from this miserable place for good.

"Hey... hey, pony. Wake up!" Gilda called as she nudged the weakened pegasus nearby. "Today's the big day. We gotta be nice and ready to greet our freedom."

​

[SteelEagle]

Time passes differently when your life hangs in the balance. Well, so it should. But some ponies hardly recognized that danger existed outside of a fantastical script that ran in their own head, immortality in fantasy forever hung in the rafters of their own cobwebbed belfry. Pathfinder certainly wasn't going to give in to the demands of reality when her fantasy was set in stone. Escape was a simple concept, and adventure was even simpler. Survival for four weeks led to the interesting part of her plan. Then they would go to this mysterious fail city of fail griffons and from there the two adventurers would escape and probably never see each other;s faces again, except whenever thy closed their eyes and thought of those golden days in the oubliette. Once they were in the city, the shackles and conditions that defined their lives would be loosened and finally tossed out, and like every bad guy in history their foes had left open gaps in their plan that pathfinder was relishing the opportunity to explot. There would be such grand adventure, so much escaping to do, such survival to show. All she had to do was get through the first week.

The first week is easy enough. You hammer the stone and you work the rod, you fire the flames and you pull the cart. You worry about that next step instead of the next day, small victories piled into campaigns of brilliance that drove every hour forward. You get into a few fights and you come out the worse for the wear, but you don't let those defeats define you. A few missing blotches of fur, a few scars, a bloody snout or three are the prizes of a little respect as the teethmarks on your leg speak to the efforts of others you made them regret. You ate that disgusting glop they passed as food with a bit more excitement than you would eat moss, but not much more. You go to bed constantly hungry. Your wing is still bound but you can fill the nerves tingle as time passes, each day bringing a bit more of the poison that makes the oubliette so devastating. But every night, you go to bed and joke with your favorite pal Gilda even as she tries to sleep and you share all the Daring Do you possibly can. You are Pathfinder and you win the week.

The second week is easy, at least compared to what it can be. You hammer the stone and you work the rod and pull the cart but you don't worry about the flames as they force you to help dig, sending rivulets of pain through your shaken body structure with every move. You focus on individual movements and breaths and your victory is assured against all comers. Those who you beat come at you stronger and harder and you lose a few more times, more cuts and scrapes and a broken rib or two. More bit marks and some hard-won blood, but you wise up. The food stays the same, monotonous and awful as you guzzle it down with a bit more appreciation as despite all the evil it brings it sustains you another day. Your wings feel as though they are burning, sharp crackling lightning bolts of pain that act as exclamation marks circulating through a frazzled nervous system as muscles and nerve endings start to come undone. But every night, you go to bed and joke with your favorite pal Gilda even as she tries to sleep and you share all the Daring Do you possibly can. You are Pathfinder and you win the week. You are Pathfinder and you win the week.

The third week is a drag. You hammer the stone and you work the rod, you dig the hole and pull the cart and serve the food and entertain a few griffons who like the sight of dancing ponies. None of this bothers you as you can distract them often enough for your Griffon pal to get some much needed shut eye during her shift. You focus instead on the plan and you allow that to harden you against events. Less fights but more injuries, a vicious engagement or group activity in the hallway or a private hall marking the week poorly. But they regret what they did, because nothing bucks harder than a cornered or injured pony. The food has numbed your taste buds down so expertly that the small hints of seasoning they have littered in there do wonders, and you start to enjoy any ounce of food you can find- which isn't much, as you are always starving. The wings feel a bit more free, but this is because once tightly packed muscle has started to vanish and the wing has grown smaller, and the joints in the wing start to erode. It hurts beyond all reason and reckoning. But every night, you go to bed and joke with your favorite pal Gilda even as she tries to sleep and you share all the Daring Do you possibly can. You are Pathfinder and you win the week. You are Pathfinder and you win the week.

The final week is a blur. You hammer the stone and you work the rod, you dig the hole and pull the cart and serve the food and entertain griffons and find yourself smuggling substances from one block to another in exchange for information. You no longer focus on what is happening but on your fantasy and the plan that you have, and for that reason you make mistakes that anger griffons. A few more fights, less brutal than before and you know how to fight dirty. More missing fur, more cuts and bruises. A cockier smile, a surer trot despite a near permanent limp. The food has become an absolute nothing prospect except for the hints of space and the requirements of the body, which under a terrifying load demands so much more than you can give it. The wings have become numb, a dull, constant throb of pain where marrow is dissolving and blood is coagulating, muscle is jelly and blood vessels popping, nerves evaporated and joints are wafer thin. An attempt to move them is met with a blinding, tear causing- even for Pathfinder- sense of pain that sends one side more limp than the other and unable to be corrected. But every night, you go to bed and joke with your favorite pal Gilda even as she tries to sleep and you share all the Daring Do you possibly can. You are Pathfinder and you win the week. You are Pathfinder and you win the week. You are Pathfinder and you prepare and plan and do the work, because if not you, then who?

-----------

Pathfinder awoke from dreams of frollicking in the fields with Daring Do and Snowfall to Gilda's proclamation. It was indeedio the dayo! The night before Pathfinder had packed the saddlebag full of all the materials and boy howdy wasshe one excited mare.

"It's gonna be so awesome, Gilly!" Pathfinder said, stumbling like a foal as she stood up before trotting three and a half leggedly to her saddlebag, "we're gonna go adventuring in some deep dark awesome ancient city, dodge some cool death traps, get out, find the Helm, and get all sorts of honors everywhere! Pathie and Gilly they'll call us, adventurers extreme! So many book deals like oh my gosh you don't know. So, when do we meet with Gavie Wavie and Razzie? Or do we meet them at the hole?" Pathfinder asked her more in tune friend as she put her saddlebag on.

"How do I look? Totally awesome, right?!"

[RarityDash]

"It's gonna be so awesome, Gilly! We're gonna go adventuring in some deep dark awesome ancient city, dodge some cool death traps, get out, find the Helm, and get all sorts of honors everywhere! Pathie and Gilly they'll call us, adventurers extreme! So many book deals like oh my gosh you don't know. So, when do we meet with Gavie Wavie and Razzie? Or do we meet them at the hole? How do I look? Totally awesome, right?!"

Gilda winced slightly as she looked the pony over. She gave a small nod. "Yeah. You look pretty cool, pony," she said in a firm voice. In truth, it was increasingly hard to look at Pathfinder. As the weeks had went on, the already mangled and enevrated mare only became increasinaly pathetic in appearance. The only reason Gilda could even recall the exhuberant pegasus she had first encountered that now long ago night in Talonopolis was in how stubbornly the pony refused to change her disposition. Pathfinder was a fighter, and it was as inspiring to watch as it was depressing.

For Gilda, much the opposite was true. Whenever Gavin was there to survey their progress, there would be good food to eat, and lots of it. This was enough to keep her strength up, even as she was worked each day past the point of the exhaustion. No, physically she was not all so much worse then than she was at the start--a little thinner, in perpetual pain, but generally the same griffon. Mentally, on the other hand, these four weeks had taken a real toll. Seeing Pathfinder work herself to the point of such fragility, reading to her each night until she fell asleep, digging each day with that niggling thought in her head that maybe the entire means of escape that had been proposed to them was an artifact of Razorclaw's madness or an especially callous joke being played on them by Stormwing, all of it built up with each passing day to the point where sometimes Gilda just wanted to expire. She often entertained the idea of just snapping from her duties and jumping down to the lower levels to meet whatever end she'd find among the beasts. She wasn't sure about Pathfinder, but she had been on her last rope when they made their discovery. She couldn't take the same routine anymore.

"I say we just head to the hole straight away," Gilda said with a hint of bitterness. "Perhaps we'll be able to bust out on our own before that creep even notices and get a nice head start on all of them." It was wishful thinking with how they were generally watched, but Gilda could hope. She could already smell the freedom she craved and the aroma was absolutely intoxicating. Nothing was going to hold her back now.

"Whatever the case, let's get going, pony. The sooner we get out of this miserable place isn't soon enough," the griffoness spat, shaking with a raw excitement. When she was sure the pony would follow, she started to make her move from the cell for what she was sure would be the very last time.

​

[SteelEagle]

Gilda's plan wasn't totally off kilter! They could get to the hole and squeak their way through, and then they could get into the city and have the best time that a griffon and pony could ask for. She had fantasized long and hard about what sort of death traps they could expect. If it really was an ancient Griffon city, then the ground would be extra dangerous. They were worried about ponies and other ground based foes invading but weren't worried about pegasi. A griffon could take a pegasi, they thought. And so a lot of the traps would be ground based and in her condition that meant Pathfidner would run the gauntlet. And that was awesome! She was looking forward to learning about some new tricks and trips. The best thing about a new adventure was after the fact realizing that you had learned all sorts if new things, like that one time in the griffon prison when she learned that the best way to trick a griffon was to place raw meat on your leg so when they bit into you, they thought they got you when in reality they did nothing. Knowledge is power!

"Good idea Gildy. Then boom bam bang, we have super adventures. So after this is all done, whatcha gonna do with your billions of whatever it is you carnivores use for currency now?" Pathfinder asked, using the slimy brick wall behind her for support as she pulled herself up and yawned, and then stretched, but mostly just yawned as she gathered her things. It was going to be the bestest day ever. Maybe not. But maybe too! She trotted out in front of Gilda, one foreleg draped over her in a semi-hug. "Let's bounce, Gilder of Gillifrey!" and with that, Pathfinder did her best three legged pained hop out of the cell-

-into the chest of a guard once she breached the thin fabric cover of the cell, falling down as she collided against his muscular chest. He pondered the scene with mite amusement for a moment before addressing Gilda.

"Y'all late. Getcher selves to tha hole or be skewered, by order of Stormwing," he mumbled with no character inflection at all in it before stepping aside, allowing the duo to pass.

[RarityDash]

"Good idea Gildy. Then boom bam bang, we have super adventures. So after this is all done, whatcha gonna do with your billions of whatever it is you carnivores use for currency now?"

Gilda gave a laugh and shrugged. "You know me, pony. As griffons go, I'm not so hard to figure out. From where I'm standing now, all I gotta say is that if I get rich, I'm just gonna use it to buy me the sort of life where I never have to worry about getting thrown in a place again," she said, shaking her head.

She smiled and started to follow the pony as she moved to exit the cell.

​

"Let's bounce, Gilder of Gillifrey!"

"Y'all late. Getcher selves to tha hole or be skewered, by order of Stormwing,"

Gilda couldn't say she was very surprised. Stormwing wasn't going to just let them get away with anything. He was far too shrewd for that. She could only roll her eyes and walk past the griffon at the door.

"Yeah, yeah, we hear you," she said, shaking her head. "C'mon, pony. Let's go see what that over-sized featherbrain has to say..."

The griffoness moved down the corridor with her pony friend. The path had become so very familiar by now. It was kind of sad. Gilda had been here so long she sometimes forgot just how much she loathed everything about it. Now that she could smell freedom, it was all coming back to her. She moved with a certain briskness in her step. Before long, they were there at the site they had dug. Sure enough Gavin was there, along with that Razorclaw. Gilda frowned at the sight of them

"Still so displeased to see me, Gilda. I really would think you'd be more gracious of the opportunity we've given you," Stormwing spoke, grinning callously. "I have to admit you and that pathetic, emaciated creature at your side have proven surprisingly useful to us this past month. Soon we shall see just what will come of it."

"Yeah, yeah, Stormwing. Save the talk. All I care about is that you hold up your end of this. Last time I thought I could make a deal with you, you stabbed me right in the back and threw me down into this place," Gilda snapped back.

"You forget that your deal this time was with our illustrious Mr. Razorclaw here, not me," Gavin spoke, nodding toward the other griffon. "Doesn't he look trustworthy?"

"I don't care. Just know that I have my eyes open," Gilda growled and then looked at the hole. "But enough pointlessness. Let's just do this already!" she shouted as she pushed through the loose covering that had been put over the hole the night before, revealing open space behind it.

​

[SteelEagle]

Gavin enjoyed the moxie of the two, even if he had certain plans made for them. His honor would be restored somehow and bellies fed. Before the duo left, each was given a simple bag of food, and their ropes were untied. Pathfinder couldn't fly away and both Gavin and Stormwing were here- if Gilda tried, she would get no mercy this time. And goodfor everybody involved that the pair moved forward, Gavin giving Gilda a small note as the pair left.

------------------------------------

Gilda created the hole and Pathfinder exploited it. Within a few moments, the hobbled pegasus trotted into the hole and then started sliding through the narrowest of passages. Pathfinder had been in a few dozen such passages in her life and had never grown fond of them, but not tired either. They were just one of the things you went through on the way to bigger and better adventures. But Pathfinder did note one very nice little thing: she was so much thinner now! Before, these passages were very annoying and hurt a lot more as she was forced to shimmy herself across inch by inch. Now that she had been fed a very barebones adventure preparation diet by the Griffons, she was small enough to easily fit through even with her saddlebag and extra supply bag. Thanks, secret prison! Now it alll made sense in her head. No, they weren't starving them to be cruel. It was to thin them out for adventure. How nice of them! That made so much more sense than pointless torture. Pathfinder continued scooting along the narrow passage as it grew more and more narrow, until there came a time when she could only more a few inches at a time.

And that part of the passage took forever. Maybe because she wasn't moving very fast but it felt so much longer as well. No wonder they couldn't have sent other griffons in there. After what seemed like a solid hour or two, the path started to open up ever so slowly. Inch by inch, minute after minute, the push continued. And then it stopped widening once again and continues for some time until after another hour, they reached a single loose block of ancient marble with a single redish hue light piercing through a small hole above it. Pathfinder placed the bulk of heer withered frame against it and with all the strength and fortitude of little foals everywhere crying out in support, she gently pushed it out. Good, now all she had to do was gracefully get out of the passage! Maybe she could do with adventuring style!

Pathfinder nodded her head rapidly in agreement with her own advice as the duo pished their way through onto the next phase of their adventure and lives. She fell out of the hole and onto her back in a dusty abandoned hallway, the limestone littered with cracks and crystallized corpses of ancient hobo spiders the size of hooves. Fun! She pulled herself up and gazed over the balcony they had dropped on, the age wearing thin the ancient materials that made it. Mostly limestone. Dim light- the red hued light was still peering through the cracks in the wall opposite, but it was a start!

"Come on down, Gilly!"

[RarityDash]

"Come on down, Gilly!"

Gilda didn't have to be told twice. She was abuzz with excitement and anticipation for this. She could taste her freedom. it was eminent. They just needed to claim it, then she'd be away from Stormwing and Razorclaw and their smug faces forever. This time tomorrow, The Pit would just be an awful, way too long nightmare to her.

Still, she had to be careful as she proceeded. The tunnel they had dug was a tight squeeze. She was bigger than Pathfinder so she had a much tougher time of it. She got caught against the walls a few times and had to shove her way through by force, but with some effort she managed. In time, she was all the way through and had pusher herself out next to Pathfinder onto the strange corridor below.

Immediately, Gilda began to look around. Unlike Pathfinder, this was her first time seeing a real ancient ruin. She nodded as she examined it all. It looked a little less polished and a little more precarious than A.K. Yearling's prose made it seem. It made sense she supposed. These were structures built by ancients and abandoned to time, after all. All the same, it was something of a marvel, with its limestone architecture and spiders fossilized in crystal. Gilda was mostly interested in her freedom, but there was a part of her that found their present location intriguing.

"Heh... well, I'll be..." Gilda started as she continued to admire the ruins. "I almost stopped believing something like this existed down here, but here it is."

She snorted and looked toward Pathfinder. "So, pony, how's this compare to what you usually deal with?' she asked. "Or perhaps we need to take a look around first..." she started as she began to walk around.

​

[SteelEagle]

How did it compare? Good question. There were many categories of ruin a pony like Pathfinder had found in her many travels across the land and beyond. The first group involved temples and small structures that served a single purpose. They were often the most exciting and fun because they were exclusionary by nature and even eons later traps held that aspect of their former glory true. Then you had the second category, small towns and hidden communities tucked away from history and sight in slag and rock and wood. They were just as exclusionary and perhaps much more committed, though once inside the greatest challenge remained whoever used to call that place in home. Ghosts tend to still remain committed even as ghosts! The last category was what this city fit into, which was large cities and other public facilities lost to time and space. The only difference between this and the few pony cities she had encountered was that this city was blocked off but its peers, not the result of some tragedy.

"Well, I've encountered some lost flying cities like Maredrid but this is the first time I've encountered a city intentionally buried by its own kind. Pretty cool, huh? Its like everygriffon here was so super cool or super evil that the others had to block them. Cool or evil, there is bound to be some fun adventurin' ahead of us! I wonder if there will be lava arrows or lava spikes or lava pools that are sentient and try to eat you like in, "Daring Do and the Dangerous Delve" and my own fanfic masterpiece, "Daring Do and the Sultry Savannah"" Pathfinder blathered on as she made her way on top of the balcony, preparing to launch off. Time to test out her foal0muscled wings out, oh yeah! High action and adventure all over the place!

"Watch this! Hiyo!" Pathfinder yelled out before she leapt off the balcony and extended her majestic wings! Well, less extended than painfully forced out a few inches and less majestic than shriveled and pitiful, the very feathers on them not even aiding her as she plummeted to the limestone below with a thud. Oh well, adventure! She pulled herself up, wobbling.

"I meaaaant to do that! Onwards! Onwards and fooorwards!"

[RarityDash]

"Well, I've encountered some lost flying cities like Maredrid but this is the first time I've encountered a city intentionally buried by its own kind. Pretty cool, huh? Its like everygriffon here was so super cool or super evil that the others had to block them. Cool or evil, there is bound to be some fun adventurin' ahead of us! I wonder if there will be lava arrows or lava spikes or lava pools that are sentient and try to eat you like in, "Daring Do and the Dangerous Delve" and my own fanfic masterpiece, "Daring Do and the Sultry Savannah""

Sentient lava pools? Really? Heh. Apparently there was some really weird stuff in some of the Daring Do books Gilda hadn't read yet. It was irrelevant though. No matter how much they were the word of law for Pathfinder, the Daring Do books were just fiction after all. Lava pits and and arrows and crazy traps were probably all just things that existed in fiction to make it more cool and exciting. As far as she was aware, real ruins were just really old buildings built by griffons a really long time ago. There wasn't much of a chance that they'd really be outfitted with crazy traps like that. Well, not unless whoever built it in the first place was some kind of psycho like that Brenda Razorclaw with her modern day death trap outfitted villa. Even if there were traps, they'd probably be non functioning and in disrepair.

Then again, perhaps Pathfinder knew better than her...

​

"Watch this! Hiyo! I meaaaant to do that! Onwards! Onwards and fooorwards!"

Or perhaps Pathfinder was a complete idiot. Gilda covered her face with her claw and sighed. Seriously, what was this idiot pony thinking. Did she think that her damaged, meagre wings were going to take her anywhere? She had to be aware of what this place was doing to her. Instead, here she was leaping off and planting herself into the ground face first like a complete moron. it was just sad really.

It did make Gilda curious about her own wings though. Unlike Pathfinder, she had had a better time of monitoring just how much of the Pit's poisonous slop she ingested. She hadn't been able to avoid it entirely, but thanks to Razorclaw, Stormwing and the meals they provided she did have a steady source of food that wouldn't kill her wings. Approaching the edge of the balcony Pathfinder had launched herself off of, Gilda tried stretching her wings. It really didn't feel right. It was so stiff and weird feeling. She definitely didn't have the wing strength she had had a month ago. It would take her some time to return to her trick flier form. That said, she was able to move them. She flapped them a few times and nodded. Yeah. She could probably be good for a short distance.

She jumped up a little and flapped as best as she could. It was only very narrowly that she avoided coming right back down in place, but with enough effort she was able to take to the air. It wasn't the most stable of flights, but by exerting enough force she was able to get to the bottom of the balcony on her wing power and land right near Pathfinder. Almost immediately she began to give some heavy breaths.

"Well, that isn't as easy as it used to be..." she said, her body feeling heavy. "But at least I'm better off than you, pony." She gave a hard laugh and shook her head. "It's probably best that both of us stick to the ground as much as possible for now."

Gilda continued along after the pony, looking around as she did. She honestly wasn't seeing anything of note, just old ruined structures. No treasures. No traps. Nothing really interesting. She glanced at Pathfinder.

"So, I wonder what the story behind this place really is..." she reflected. "It seems kind of odd to just bury a place like this under the ground and then forget all about it for long. Makes you wonder what the purpose of it all is. Were they keeping something special..."

The griffoness slapped her face with her talon then and sighed. "Gah, what am I saying? It doesn't matter. That's for Stormwing and his pals to discover, isn't it? For us, the only treasure we're here to find is a working exit."

​

[SteelEagle]

Gilda was probably right about staying on the ground. Mostly because it wasn't the end of the story and the fact was that overcoming such a gigantic hurdle such as useless wings required a third act climax to get her over the hump. It was just basic storytelling after all: The heroine facing impossible obstacles triumphing due to force of will alone. It was just like in Daring Do and the Veil of Time, where Daring Do had been cursed to walk Time forever. She was a newborn foal in the same moment that she was an elderly mare and experienced her first love as well as her first child side by side. She played with her grandchildren as she first learned how to speak. She triumphed in the end because of her unflappable spirit that defined her more than any other. And for Pathfinder it would be the same. They would need her wings to survive at some point and she'd come through. And it would be cool.

"Yeah, you're right. We just started act three- no need to worry about these babies just yet! We still have adventure ahead. They'll save us I'm sure when we face some ancient skull beast of doom," Pathfinder replied confidently, trotting ahead of Gilda as she continued to listen to her number one adventure companion. And she did move them down an interesting path.

What was this place hiding? Why bury such a huge city? It had to have been something massive. War was possibility, griffons of the past not known for being entirely too peaceful. The city lost and was buried forever by the victors. Maybe a natural disaster? They had to quickly evacuate and when it was all said and done the survivors buried the city to prevent whatever was happening from spilling topside. That is where the lava theory came from: Creatures did not like lava and they tended to flee at the first sign of it. So if there was all of a sudden lava around, then you'd figure that maybe they would do that. And it made sense to Pathfinder especially if there was lava traps to be found. She didn't know why she wanted there to be lava traps, but the musky and humid air spoke to a heat she did not expect. usually these ruins were cold. There was an odd red tinge to everything. Lava? Hopefully lava.

"Well, it could be war. Your species isn't known for being the calmest! Disaster maybe. If it was a disaster there would still be a lot of treasures as griffons fled before they could take them. If it was a war, then I don't think we'd see much. Victors tend to take their spoils, not leave them accumulating dust in ruins. At least that is my experience in Equestria. Maybe here they like to leave treasures laying around but doesn't make much sense to me. Then again, griffons don't make much sense to me. I once knew a griffon in the orphanage and she liked to play practical jokes on everypony. One time, she tied me up at the railroad tracks when we played Old Timey Western Hero Horse. Funny thing is that no one came for me and somepony simulated a train coming around the bend. I got really scared and started crying and then she jumped out of the bushes and laughed along with her friends. I got my revenge on her though: She works for Cloudsdale government now, and I'm an adventurer. Boy, I sure showed her!" Pathfinder said excitedly as they pushed forward, moving onto a large bridge that connected the small side of the community from what looked to be an old marketplace.

There were dozens of these bridges laying about and Pathfinder could only guess that they connected what amounted to different neighborhoods or islands. She could imagine each one trying to be as self-sufficient as possible, different schools and shops and rivalries. Judging by the state of the city where some bridges led to nowhere, she could only guess earthquakes had sent parts of the city into the tinged abyss below. It also meant that by and large the whole area was going to be a bit tougher to navigate as until they got a better idea of what was where, they couldn't be expected to find an exit. So she continued on, the bridge underneath of old stone work. Griffons had never placed a great emphasis on ground furnishings but this was different and it made sense since they lived underground. No slacking of effort or poor worksmanship was present: the stone bridge had lasted for centuries or more with no maintenance in what was probably an active earthquake zone.

For generations upon generations this had been so, but today it dealt with actual weight for the first time. Step by step it weakened and when they were just over halfway, Pathfinder her a dull crack underneath...just as the bridge started to give away!

[RarityDash]

"Yeah, you're right. We just started act three- no need to worry about these babies just yet! We still have adventure ahead. They'll save us I'm sure when we face some ancient skull beast of doom,"

Gilda wasn't sure what to make of these words. She wondered if Pathfinder really was that unrealistic. Looking at Pathfinder's wings, there was just no way they could be counted on anytime soon. They were just flat shot. Horrible, tiny, broken little things. They were pitiful to even look at. Did Patfhinder truly think they would kick in at just the right moment like in some silly book? It just wasn't going to happen. It was going to take months for them to heal, and even then it was likely they wouldn't quite be the same. Was this just Pathfinder's way of trying to keep her spirits? Or was she really just that much of an idiot. It was hard to say, but either way the dumb pony was too sad to bother with. Gilda decided it best to just humor such things for now. She shook her head and gave a low chuckle.

​

"Well, it could be war. Your species isn't known for being the calmest! Disaster maybe. If it was a disaster there would still be a lot of treasures as griffons fled before they could take them. If it was a war, then I don't think we'd see much. Victors tend to take their spoils, not leave them accumulating dust in ruins. At least that is my experience in Equestria. Maybe here they like to leave treasures laying around but doesn't make much sense to me. Then again, griffons don't make much sense to me. I once knew a griffon in the orphanage and she liked to play practical jokes on everypony. One time, she tied me up at the railroad tracks when we played Old Timey Western Hero Horse. Funny thing is that no one came for me and somepony simulated a train coming around the bend. I got really scared and started crying and then she jumped out of the bushes and laughed along with her friends. I got my revenge on her though: She works for Cloudsdale government now, and I'm an adventurer. Boy, I sure showed her!"

Gilda gave a hard laugh. Maybe it was just her own stupidity when it came to life in general, but she actually agreed with Pathfinder entirely when it came to this former playmate of hers. Pathfinder was living her life as she wanted to while her griffon pal was living as some soulless bureaucrat. As cushy as a government job was, Gilda sure didn't see anything redeemable in it. Government types were all the same. Those Razorclaws, their family, the Silverbeaks, the Goldplumes. Everyone everywhere that had it in their head that they were in control... Not a one of them was worth two bits as far as Gilda was concerned. Pathfinder was an idiot. A joyous, naive idiot, who had spent her last few months, hunted, battered and left to waste away in some awful prison, and even then Gilda had more admiration for her than any government dog.

"Heh. That's right you did. Believe me, pony, no matter what anyone else might think, you came out of it with the good break on that one," she said with a hard laugh.

Returning then to Pathfinders other comments, she looked a moment and sighed. "As for making sense of us griffons, there's just the one rule to think about when it comes to how we build. The guiding rule that makes that high Silverbeak's tower we once targeted so lavish and grand and makes the Pit we just escaped from a place of shame, where griffons are stripped of being griffons."

"It's all in the elevation. The higher in the air, the more esteemed a place is. it's a rule that goes back throughout the ages, to before Talonopolis was built and even before the canyon was settled. When griffons first came to the continent from the west, it was already in our blood to do it that way. Sure, newer cities like Rockwington don't adhere to it strictly, but someplace old is bound to..." Gilda looked down at her claws and sighed. "It's strange to find a ruin buried in the ground like this, but there's nothing that tells me that it would be used to house treasure, or at least anything regarded as such at the time."

She looked around, taking in the vastness of the ruin. It almost semeed like an entire city. "If I was to take a guess, I would say that's why this place had to be wiped from existence. Here were griffons challenging the way we were supposed to live or whatever. I'm sure Razorclaw the First or whoever back in young Talonopolis got it in his head to stomp them all out as violently as possible. Poor fools probably didn't even know what hit them until it was too late. Then, claiming the place cursed and evil, or some such nonsense, perhaps they had it all purposefully buried in the ground so none would ever see it and get it in their head to try such a thing again, at least anywhere near where the three families' sat bloated atop their perches."

Gilda gave a laugh. She wasn't sure why she was putting so many thoughts into it. It was odd really. She had spent the last several weeks thinking only of her exit and her freedom as she dug for Razorclaw's ruin... but now that she was here looking at it all, it had her imagination chugging ahead. As much as she knew it wasn't really her place to care about any of it, she had to admit it was a pretty interesting curiosity. Under other circumstances she would have loved a chance to look the whole place over.

All she could really do was speculate as they kept pressing ahead. They were presently coming to some old stone bridge. They had made it just halfway across when the whole thing began to collapse. "Run!" gilda shouted at the sound of the old stones falling down into the blackness below. She broke into a steady run herself, but she could feel the ground starting to give beneath her. She gave a hard leap and then opened her wings to glide the rest of the way and came down on the other side. She gave a heavy breath and then turned around to make sure Pathfinder had gotten across safely too...

​

[SteelEagle]

Pathfinder listened to her secretly smart sidekick Gilda the Gelatin Griffon as she actually turned her brain-faucet on and leaked out a pretty interesting perspective. Pathfinder of course knew that Griffons were a more height-based culture, and not just because they were taller than ponies on average. Verticality in all of their cities played a key part in their culture right down to the way they built their buildings. Pathfinder had taken advantage of that during their recent run of artifact liberating in the capital and was able to pinpoint their security procedures based on floor. It had worked out well because they were a pretty set species when it came to how they ran things. It made it easy to adventure with them as enemies because you had a good idea on how they'd operate. Gilda had been a little bit different mostly because she had undergone a face-heel turn a few times since Pathfinder had met her, but she was the special exception that proved the rule.

But there were other exceptions to some rules she had grown up with, if she was to buy the theory that they would bury a city of their own kind for simply chooing to live a little differently. No doubt it had been centuries since the griffons had done anything extreme externally, but who knew what lay in their past misdeeds? They had a reputation for a reason. However, would they have gone this far? It didn't seem like that grave of a mistake as to warrant destroying a whole city. Then again, Pathfinder probably destroyed more ruins and cities than the whole Griffon culture and history put together with a dash of excitement on top so who was she to judge? Well, she was an Equestrian and they would judge something like that harshly. Ponies were free to live their life the way they wished as long as they didn't hurt or interfere with others. Forcing conformity at the point of violence wasn't just unnerving to the Equestrian in Pathfinder, it was unnerving to the Pathfinder in Pathfinder! She shivered visually as the griffon wrapped up, thoroughly SUPER ANNOYED WITH ANCIENT GRIFFON KIND.

"What? That's unbelievable! How lame were the ancient griffons that they'd do that? Forcing others to act like you do is beyond the pale, worse than trying to eat me!" She let out a frustrated grunt, rolling her eyes at either her caretakers or ancient griffons as a whole, "I mean, maybe it isn't true but gosh. Either you're an embittered griffon of the street thug life or they've done something to leave that impression! And it couldn't be the first. You're the sweetest griffon I've ever met even if that is mostly because you're the first one I've spent serious time with that wasn't some rude little honker in Cloudsdale. You're adorable and cool and you've got sharp claws and you're super comfy and you're smart and fast and strong! You're a really cool adventure buddy. even with the betrayal. I forgive you! Look at what it led us to? More cool adventure! So I guess that means I'll lay with your theory. Well, I wish I didn't have to think that but heck I guess that makes it more exciting! I wonder if there is anything in here that they were afraid of beyond nonconforming, maybe-" Pathfinder blazed on, excited about the prospects of adventure until adventure found them.

Underhoof, the bridge collapsed swiftly. Pathfinder heard the slight grinding of stone before she felt it and it didn't take long for her to force a great gallop out of her busted frame, wounded legs pounding the collapsing bridge into oblivion as she raced towards the relatively safety of the next 'island' of stone, a new neighborhood for them to explore. But the bridge was collapsing fast and she couldn't fly, and the gap in between safety and death grew closer and closer. She huffed and puffed and blew her physical wall down, a last burst of energy sealing her victory by a single hoofstep, the last of the bridge falling directly after her hoof had lifted off. She swiftly turned around and looked down to see where the bridge would drop and was met with silence and darkness. No sound, no giant lava splash, not even a pool of water. Just silence. Huh, must be one heck of a drop! But what about the lava from earlier? This place was strange. Or at least she thought it was- oh, no, that was just her sight! She had gone temporarily blind. Silly Pathfinder! She shook her head and saw the result of bridge collapse, a large glut of lava shooting out from below right at Pathfinder's head.

The pegasus moved quickly out of the way and fell back as the lava came back down, missing her by inches. It was quite the spectacle, maybe so much so that Griffy the Wonder Griffon would miss the fireworks right above her as a steeple from a nearby temple collapsed along with the bridge, this one heading directly at Gilda.

"Heh, lav-" Pathfinder started before she turned around and saw the steeple falling. In a flash and without a word, Pathfinder jumped with whatever strength she had and pushed Gilda out of the way- just in time for the collapse to hit her instead in a cloud of rubble and dust!

[RarityDash]

"What? That's unbelievable! How lame were the ancient griffons that they'd do that? Forcing others to act like you do is beyond the pale, worse than trying to eat me! I mean, maybe it isn't true but gosh. Either you're an embittered griffon of the street thug life or they've done something to leave that impression! And it couldn't be the first. You're the sweetest griffon I've ever met even if that is mostly because you're the first one I've spent serious time with that wasn't some rude little honker in Cloudsdale. You're adorable and cool and you've got sharp claws and you're super comfy and you're smart and fast and strong! You're a really cool adventure buddy. even with the betrayal. I forgive you! Look at what it led us to? More cool adventure! So I guess that means I'll lay with your theory. Well, I wish I didn't have to think that but heck I guess that makes it more exciting! I wonder if there is anything in here that they were afraid of beyond nonconforming, maybe-"

Gilda was surprised by how surprised Pathfinder was by her little hypothesis. Sure, Pathfinder was incredibly naive, but that kind of story wouldn't be out of league with the sorts of ancient legends that were the foundation for most of the Daring Do books Gilda had read so far. Maybe ancient griffons were a little harsher with that kind of stuff than ancient ponies, but still, even with Gilda's somewhat limited knowledge of history she knew enough to know that things were a lot rougher back then. Even today, in an ostensibly much softer, brighter age, the ruling families in Aquellia had violent psychos like Major Brenda and that other Razorclaw among them; Gilda could only imagine the Razorclaws back then were the worst sort of awful.

True, Gilda was kind of a jerk herself. She could admit that. She never had any qualms about telling anyone what she thought of them in the bluntest terms. She didn't respect authority, she had a mostly poor opinion of ponies, she was kind of thin-skinned and also was known to default to cruel. She wasn't the sort of griffon who thought it was particularly okay to force someone to think one way or the other though. If someone wanted to be totally lame, that was their choice. Because of that, like Pathfinder, she didn't really take so well to the idea of violent retribution being used against others who just wanted to try and do something different. As something of a self-styled rebel in fact, she could only feel that was the biggest sort of jerk thing any group of jerks could do.

As Pathfinder's free stream of words progressed from surprise over Gilda's line of thought to a shower of possibly undeserved praise for Gilda herself, the griffoness found herself actually blushing a little. Gilda really wasn't good with that kind of stuff. She wasn't used to it. As prickly a personality as she was, she didn't get a lot of compliments said about her. It kind of derailed her train of thought and left her unsure about what to say. She continued on with Pathfinder, trying to deny to herself that strangely she really appreciated it all.

That's why, when the bridge they were moving over suddenly started to collapse, part of Gila welcomed it, at least at first. She pushed herself along after Pathfinder, using her weakened but still somehow just functional wings to push her to the other side with Pathfinder even after the bridge caught up to her. She became more concerned when suddenly a blast of lava shot up in front of them. It was an impressive, if terrifying sight. The heat radiating off it was impossible and made it clear that just touching it would not be so much fun.

That was then the steeple came crashing down. Gilda didn't see it until it was too late to start moving. Pathfinder was quicker though. She noticed it and then pushed GIlda inside, taking the brunt of the collapse herself. Gilda's eyes went wide with fear for Pathfinder. She rushed to her side and immediately began to clear the debris off of her.

"Stupid pony... you're in much worse shape than me. I could have taken this..." she said, her voice colored more with worry than anger.

She prodded Pathfinder's prone body with her talon. "Please, be okay... we fought too hard all this time for you to go out like this..." she said in a shaky voice, somewhat under her breath, as she continued to push away the rubble, thinking of the things Pathfinder had just said about her all the while.

It surprised her, she found, just how much she wanted Pathfinder to be okay.

​

[SteelEagle]

It was all a bit dark for a little while. Pathfinder knew she was okay because she was Pathfinder and Pathfinder was always okay even when she was on fire near whale oil. Came with the territory, equal parts brave and insane. But she knew she was okay mostly because she felt a lot of pain everywhere she could feel anything and that was the surest sign that you were going to be just fine. Sure she wasn't conscious. Well, maybe she was. She couldn't move or anything. But she could think. Was she floating? It felt like it. A lot of concussions at once triggering must have turned her into a floatyfinder. Not as fun as Pathfindering though. After a few seconds a ringing in her ears started to formulate the world around her and she slowly but surely came back down from the fever high that had gripped her in the pain immediately afterward. Then she felt the numbness of her body more acutely. Okay, so she couldn't feel everything. Or most of her. The Tower of Ouch Ouch had seen to that. She tried moving the bits and pieces that made up her body and found little was respondoing except for her head, which she thankfully had covered in ol' Spikey helmet before the tower had fallen.

Then all she saw or felt was the rubble being moved away from her by frantic claws. Usually the frantic movements of rubble was being directed to pile more on top of Pathfinder so this was a very welcome change of pace. Just another time when Gilda could have totally betrayed Pathfinder and left her to rot but didn't, which would made the eventual betrayal if it truly was the next plot point of her adventure a bit nonsensical. Unless Gilly Do was using Pathfinder to get the stuff and then betray everygriffon and pony involved! That would be somethin. There was also the possibility that she was being a straight shooter. If that was the case then this was just further proof. In any way, Gilda wrnt to town on the rubble and it wasn't entirely too long until she had cleared enough to find the top half of the most Pathfindering pony this side of the mountains. Probably on the other side, too.

Pathfinder spat out some rubble, the little bits of ancient dust on her tongue still fighting to cling to moisture after so long. She spat them out too in a torrent, hopefully not getting any on Gilda. That was the most she could summon at the moment though. Pain had...well, she was in a lot of pain after the numbness started to fade. She was used tpo that though. The important thing was that the bottom half of the Pathfinder pony was no longer topside. She had been hammered into the ground and her back hooves were flailing in open air. Cool air, so it wasn't lava. She was not being burned alive underneath the rock! yay!

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay there Gilly..." Pathfinder spoke with as much force and focus as she could muster, her eyes wobbling. She shook her head, freeing the spike helmet from the clingy pith helmet underneath. She wiggled in place, slowly easing herself down through the hole.

"Adventure wiggle time! Follow me- ahhh-aahhha-ahhahaaahahahahahaha!" Pathfinder burst out into insanity giggles, eyes bugging out wildly as she wiggled more violently.

"I'm getting TICKLED S0- AHAHAHA- HARD- AHAHAHAHA- BY WHATEVER IS- AHAHAHAHAHAHA - BELOW US YOU HAVE NO IDEA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH! Oh Celestia this hurts my ribs!" Pathfinder chortled and cried as she wiggled in an attempt to escape. Instead, she wiggled so hard she created a bigger hole, big enough for both the pony and the griffon. Pathfinder fell several feet onto her back, rubble landing around her as her vision slowly returned. This was like a city under a city that was under the ground near a volcano and prison...standard stuff! Streets, long since abandoned even when this city was done in ages ago. Now it was overrun by...skeletons, star spiders, weapons degrading beyond use. Usual stuff.

"Huh. Guess when they were locked in this cavern they tried to hide in the cooler underground sections. Then they all died! Hmm. Makes you think that if they were also going to guard something they may have brought it down...what was I talking about again?" She shook her hooves off. A bunch of baby star spiders scattered about, the tickling culprits now disbanded. She shook her head and two more full grown mama star spiders flew out of her mane. They were everywhere! "Oh yeah, bagels. I'm hungry. I mean, what are we looking for again?"

[RarityDash]

"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay there Gilly..."

Gilda breathed out in relief and smiled for a brief moment. Key word being brief. Pathfinder's assurance that she wasn't dead was prolonged for a few more syllables than the griffon cared for and quickly she found herself kind of irritated. She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

"So you're good?" she said, still a hint more happy than she would have expected. "You can be surprisingly tough for a pony, pony." She laughed a hard laugh. "Though I guess that figured. If you weren't practically invulnerable, I don't imagine you'd have ever been able to survive being this stupid this long."

​

"Adventure wiggle time! Follow me- ahhh-aahhha-ahhahaaahahahahahaha! I'm getting TICKLED S0- AHAHAHA- HARD- AHAHAHAHA- BY WHATEVER IS- AHAHAHAHAHAHA - BELOW US YOU HAVE NO IDEA AHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH! Oh Celestia this hurts my ribs!"

Gilda didn't have to wait very long for said stupidity to show itself. Somehow the pony cackling and flailing about created a big hole in the ground which quickly swallowed the both of them. Gilda was too slow to react and take to her damaged wings in time, and found herself crashing to the ground in a heap right next to the pony. She groaned and ran her talons through her feathers as she sat there, taking in their new surroundings. This ruin certainly was a story of layers. Gilda really didn't care for it. Everything about it just felt like a blasted death trap.

​

"Huh. Guess when they were locked in this cavern they tried to hide in the cooler underground sections. Then they all died! Hmm. Makes you think that if they were also going to guard something they may have brought it down...what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, bagels. I'm hungry. I mean, what are we looking for again?"

"What we're looking for, pony, is an exit," Gilda said, shaking her head. "We need to get out of here. We need to get back up above ground and away from this so that you can rest your pitiful self and finally eat something and return to your just as obnoxious but at least more coherent and less pathetic self."

Gilda spoke with finality. Seeing Pathfinder just injure herself more and more as they wandered the ruins was proof enough that it didn't bode well for them if they stayed there longer than they needed to. "Sure, it'd be cool if we stumbled upon some ancient secrets or buried treasure, but that's for those Razorclaws and their cronies to do. What we need to do is survive."

​

[SteelEagle]

Always the way out with this griffon. If Pathfinder didn't know better she'd swear that this griffon was a scaredy bird, flying all around the world looking to get away from something or everything. But Pathfinder did know better. Griffytasticalicious was a super cool adventure griffon with sharp talons and a wonderfully devious mind. No doubt even as she played as if she was looking for a way out she was secretly planning the best way to get the greatest treasures of all and the only way she was going to get that was with the world's greatest real life adventurer pony and second best adventurer pony in all of the multiverse, Pathfinder! Speaking of everpony's favorite adventurer, she was feeling just fine. Her whole body was numb and what little she did feel was a throbbing orchestra of regret filled decision making and all that meant was that she was alive enough to never ever ever ever regret the decisions she was about to make.

“Silly Griffy. Of course we're going to get out but that's the second to last chapter of our story together! Two great heroines brave all of this and escape with epic loot. You make BANK off of what you find, starting your own crew of cool adventure griffons who also act as a bit of roguish anti-authority griffons that fight the power unintentionally. I return to Equestria a hero and continue to adventure, this time with all sorts of villains trying to shut me down. I go from adventure to adventure,finding love in the arms of my troubled CEO marefriend in between dangerous heists. I save the land but the authorities grow weary of me, and then the both of us team up to face down the secret power behind both governments- changelings! Only the Eye of Miskarkand can save the world! Wouldn't that be super cool?” Pathfinder trailed on, excitedly skipping to avoid her wounded leg as equally as to exemplify the energy flowing through her. They eventually reached a crossroads, both paths being dark except for the rivers of lava light brightly warning of possible danger.

“Which one, Gilly?”