Crystal Symphony [CYOA]

“Do you know if there’s a library in here anywhere?” you ask Red Sulfur, mentally raising your eyebrow.

“Of course?” he shrugs long-sufferingly, “The Public Library of Manehattan is the major one, it’s nothing compared to the one we have...” he pauses and then glances away, making it look like a yawn, “Had in the Crystal Empire, or those unicorns have in their magical city, eh, but it is something. Manehattan is a city of clockwork more than the city of magic, though Aurora. I mean, give it a try.”

“I’ll... try just that, yes,” your hollow voice echoes, “And antique shops?”

“Think there’s an Arcane Wing in Manehattan somewhere? If you find anything interesting that you don’t need, expensive too, do bring back,” he shrugs yet again, “Hey, listen, will it be fine if I don’t accompany you to Hollow Shades? I’d rather stay here, continue master’s research too. Still have all those gemstones we brought back.”

>What do you do now?

>>28946601
I say we let him stay. I'm glad he is going to continue the resarch and those bats are aggressive enough towards males as it is. Thank him for everything before we leave.

“I do not mind you staying,” you say nonchalantly, “To continue research; will be better if Meridian doesn’t see you.”

He then rolls his eyes at you, “Yeah, I’d rather not see her either from what I’ve heard.”

“Thanks,” you pause, “For everything, Red Sulfur. For the repayments too... I wish you luck.”

Red Sulfur stops, his hoof passes by the heavy cloth of his robes. He smiles, “Will see you soon, Aurora.”

*** *** ***

“We do have... unicorns working in the mines, I do not discriminate.” Gaudy Acid Crust tells you in his usual, hypnotic tone of voice. The muscular stallion fixes his tie and then, and only then, raises his narrowed eyes towards you, “I’m not sure what you want... to talk to them about, but... That’s going to bother them, will it not?” he asks.

>What do you do now?

>>28946917
I am sure they would not mind. Surely one or two at most would be of little consequence for a single afternoon?

“Two or maybe one pony is not going to harm your mining operations that much, now surely?”

Acid Crust keeps his lessened gaze upon your crystallized muzzle, despite this, you can see his tall ears and long eyebrows flinch as he makes sure to keep track of what is going on around him just in case. The muscular stallion makes a long, dreadful pause, irritating you to an incredible extent, until he finally offers you some “suggestion”.

“You can take... the laziest slave in here... away to talk with you for... ten minutes,” he says in his smooth, confident monotone, “You can find her... over there,” the Royal Overseer says with a nudge of his head. You follow his motion begrudgingly, with a visible unhappiness. Certainly, you do not want any favours from the likes such as him.

Following his gesture with a slow step, you finally spot a tired, somewhat senile, unicorn mare. She has a short skirt covering her flank and a long, transparent cloth hanging from her chest. Aside from that, her body is roofed with rust, ash and blood. Her face is one of an underground miner, battered and improperly healed. To your surprise, you can find a ring of gold decorating her thick and long horn; if it’s not flamboyant jewellery, then it is a marriage gift.

She looks at you with a shy but frightened attitude, and she takes a lazy, tired step back as soon as you approach her closer. Her hooves wobble as she attempts to stand up and swing the heavy, metal pickaxe with a throw of her head.

>What do you do now?

>>28947415
Please miss, rest. I mean you no harm. I wish simply that you could teach me some spells.

“Please miss,” you say, as you try your hardest to make your, grim and echoing, voice sound somewhat honest, kind and polite, “Rest. I’m not going to hurt you, I mean you no harm.” You approach her again and, of course, she backpedals despite everything you just said! The pale yet tropical-hued mare looks at you with a palpable shock. You do not budge. You allow her to come to grasps with reality; it won’t be new to her to see a crystal golem, possibly, but even despite this fact, she only knows of the likes of you as cold, unspoken monsters… You give her a little time.

“Yes?” she finally says with a shy, sincere attitude, “I-I’ll be returning to work immediately… Eep.”

“Can you teach me some spells?” you ask her in a standstill, face to face. She blinks at you, confused.

“Spells?” she asks you with uncertainty, trying neither to insult you nor to make you mad.

“Yes, unicorn spells. What is your special magical talent?”

“I… um…” she looks left, then right, “I was a librarian… I sort and lift books; I keep, eep, records?”

>What do you do now?

>>28947695
Where did you work? What spells do you know?

“And where did you work beforehoof?” you ask her questionably, “What spells do you know?”

“I worked in one of the smaller, out-town libraries,” she tells you uncertainly, “And as for spells… I do not know that many, eep, of so-called magical spells. I know how to levitate book, and how to sort them,” she says with a pause, “I also have a spell that allows me to… eep, and make a magical eye that helps me find the books I can’t find… easier.”

Just your regular unicorn; it will be heard to find a gifted unicorn in Manehattan, especially in slave mines.

>What do you do now?

>>28948029
Do you know if your library is still standing? I may visit it, if you do not mind. I promise to not steal from it.

Let's have her teach us the spell. It's better than nothing.

I might be finishing here to get to bed early so that I'm not too tired after work tomorrow, and if that's the case, I'll continue then. Thanks for playing!

I hope we can help the slaves in the future.

>>28949416
Yeah, even if it's just one at a time

>>28948029
Ask about the magical eye spell, that could come in handy

After our time with her is up, we should ask Acid Crust what paperwork we would need to switch that particular slave to a position at the library to ensure she's being used to the best efficiency of her natural talents, surely Sombra would want the all the city's resources contributing to the empire, not just one part with the mines.

B

U

>>28947415
I have gulag flashbacks.
Anyway, the spell might be something a bit similar to Sulfur's cape, to an extent. We should politely ask her to teach us this thing and field-test it. Of course knowing the location of her former library won't hurt either, who knows what books may wait for us here. Even if Manehattan is not into magic as much as other places, we could potentially learn how to fix our shit or something.

>>28949886
This too.

“First,” you incline your head in question, “Let me ask you about your library…”

“Y-yes?” her voice stumbles; she spits and then places the pickaxe against the sharp, uncut gem cavern close by.

“Don’t… be afraid,” you try to fill your voice with a suitable glimmer of optimism, “I just want to know if it’s still standing there,” you form a smile inside your mind, “I’d like to visit it. I promise not to steal anything, if that’s fine?”

She looks at you with an expression you can only call unsolvable. It is an emotion that is hard to read, she’s either utterly afraid or vividly dismayed; either that, or this is her poker face. Your massive, crystallized body grinds, noise akin to a sonata, as you regain her attention from the stupor she found herself in. Her eyebrow rises scarcely.

“So,” you ask her straight, “What do you say?”

“I… eep,” she pauses and warily fiddles with a lock of her mane; she places it behind her ear after a few seconds of though, “Yes, the library is still intact and… in a better condition. And the spell, I… want something in return.”

“Like what?”

She glances to the left, and then she glances to the right, “I don’t know,” she says with quick haste, “B-benefits?”

“I can talk to the Overseer,” you answer honestly, “If he can do anything for you, will that be alright?”

She mutters under her breath with incredible quietness, “S-sure… even an hour more to check on library.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” you place your reassuring, crystallized hoof upon her shoulders as she, with a weak endeavor, makes an attempt to shake it off. The olden mare takes a deep, coughing breath and only then closes her eyes shut. An aquamarine shimmer in next to no time forms on the very edge of her horn and, in a rushing brisk, the flame soon consumes her horn whole.

With a powerful sparkle, harmonious and warm, so much different from the dark cold magic of yours, the arcane of the slave forms into a single, orb conglomerate. With a narrow gaze and a complete and utter concentration, she forces the orb to take the shape of a cute, eerie and spectral eyeball with a single, outsized pupil. She’s shy, obviously, showcasing one of her unique magical spells to a complete stranger. Her phantom third eye is able to pass through the walls, fly across incredible heights and… truth to be told, you are not too sure of its complete limits.

“Interestingly amazing,” you comment once the mare gasps back tiredly, releasing her concentrative control away.

Soon after, it was your turn to do the same. The mare took her time to draw, using a set of gemstone charcoals, the trio of requisite symbols, which you are supposed to properly shape and imagine inside your mental canvas during the time of casting. Something you’ve got used to doing with your spells of Luminus and Telekinesis – the dark green cryptograms of your dominion. This time, it’s different; you are unable to do it. You make several attempts, about seven or eight, to form the coherent signs in proper and twist your dark magic into this singe, simple spell…

Yet, nothing happens! The evil, eldritch energy slithers through the inside of your body, like an all-devouring lava.

“Why isn’t it working?!” your crystallized voice cracks in putrid annoyance.

“I-I don’t know, t-that’s how all spells are…” she’s barely holding down her tears.

>What do you do now?

>>28953570
Write the symbols down or memorize them, either it requires a horn or similar protrusion, or we are limited to dark magic versions of spells only, or something else might not be connecting. Either way, thank her for her effort, we'll see what we can do with the overseer anyways.

“…Tartarus curses!” a profanity escapes your petrified lips. You swing your head with a loud, crushing motion, coming to a brief pause only after a moment of unrest. You slowly raise your head at old mare before you; she’s holding her hoof across her chest with an uneasy, unnerving outlook. “…Something is wrong,” you tell her straight.

“I-I see,” she respond with a timid bob of her head “You are not a unicorn so, maybe, that’s a fault?”

“I can still use magic,” you say with a bitter, and mental, roll of your eyes, “And the spells I do know how to use follow the same kind of… theory and requirements, concentration and drawing of symbols. Give me the chalk.”

“O-oh,” she stutters as she hangs you one of the crystal chalks, “Of course. Here you… eep, go!”

You follow with a quick and strict, as well as even and practically perfect, replication drawing of the three magical ciphers given to you by the slave. A slab of stone is a crude replica for a scroll of parchment but, as they say, beggars can’t be choosers. Once you are happy with the way the colorful signs find themselves engraved onto the marble surface, you place the slab on your back and then you tie it over with a knot of old, rudimentary ropes you find laying nearby. Your body continues to move and act as if the additional carriage weight is a nonexistent issue. It isn’t.

“Maybe somepony else can be of help to you,” she says to reassure you, probably.

“It’s probably the type of magic itself,” you answer her back the only way a Crystal Golem is able. Accidently, you and your voice force her to stumble back in terror. “Thanks for the help anyway. I’ll see what I can do with the Overseer.”

As soon as you give her a farewell gesture, however, and then as soon as you turn your back at her, she stops you.

“W-wait,” she mutters, barely audible, “Wait!” she reiterates after a brief, silent pause once more. “T-there is one book in the Manehattan Library that might be of use to you,” her gaze shifts towards her hoofs shyly, “Y-you just have to… promise me to use it for good; even when you are a bad pony. A-and also to remove that cursed helmet from my husband’s head!” she practically bites through the heavy, scorched air in order, gasping to admit her circumstances.

>What do you do now?

>>28954335
Tell me his name, where he is, and what he looks like. Thank her again and leave.

U

>>28954335
We can promise the 'use for good' part, but we can only give a try for her husbands predicament, we may not be able to right away

>>28955166
He might be long dead. But we could at least ask for the name and how does he look like.

>>28952999

>>28956022

>>28956530

Vince, you forgot to announce session end again.

>>28959347
Yeah, sorry about that, I was not sure how many updated I were able to get by yesterday. I'm going to be writing a long post now.

“I’ll use it for good, that’s a crystal promise,” you nudge your head in her direction; luckily, such a gesture a bit calms her. You close the little amount of space there is between the two of you, as you then raise your crystallized hoof to lay it upon her shoulder reassuringly. She responds with an uncertain, shy nod. You follow, “As for your husband, you will have to believe me here. I will try to do what I can. Tell me his name, how he looks like and where to find him.”

With a visible shudder, she rubs underneath her blackened eyes. With a humble smile, she whispers, “Algorithm...”

*** *** ***

He is a stallion of her age, almost logical considering the fact that they are, or at least used to be, husband and wife. She mentioned him having incredible, cobalt eyes and glistering and undersized, pacific-blue mane. She said that his skin is in wishy-washy ivory colors. He has a skin condition that leaves bright, green marks all across his chest and upper body. His cutie mark is a strange, black algorithm symbol, in lieu of his talent in some particular science field.

She didn’t sound sure when she said it but, just like any helmet wearing soldier slaving… serving in Manehattan, he is supposed to be a part of Blackward’s Vanguard. The name escapes your mind. If you are to somehow find and free him wherever inside this enormous, borderless city, the Hastiliarius might be the first pony you should be talking to.

That aside, you left the mare with a promise. You are not a pony with a strong, moral compass, however…

The things that you are facing and addressing now are far more significant; to you, your friends and the entire world.

The Public Manehattan Library proves to be quite easy to spot and find in spite of the sheer size of the city and the overabundance of view-blocking skyscrapers as well as spacious commercial buildings. While Manehattan is not a jewel of in-depth magical research, the seriousness in which they take science, engineering and academia is surprisingly staggering.

The library itself looks like an enormous, sky-shattering cathedral. While now practically abandoned and barely used, the building only just lost its luxurious grandiose to the siege and time. The wide, climbing staircase is void of any presence, the eldritch silence and the two, marble pillar stallions holding the archway that leads towards the entrance of the library – it’s only visitors. You push the door open, entering the premise of the building.

It’s a library, a library for all the students and teachers of what was supposed to a boosting metropolis! There are five… no, six floors and hundred upon hundred of shelves and rooms inside of it! You are unsure of where to start.

>What do you do now?

>>28960192
Did she not tell us where to find it?

>>28960396
Only how the book looks.

>>28960435
Motherfucker.

Let's just scan the magic sections.

>>28960192
>>28960435
Well, let's get to browsing!

The moment you close the massive, stained glass doors of the main library entrance behind you, the entire library hall falls into the indifferent and unmoving darkness. The used, wax candles and chandeliers are located somewhere within because, to your knowledge, it seems that Manehattan City lacks the privilege of the crystal lanterns and their inexhaustible luminosity. From what you know, this was once a daily duty of one of the employees working here – to relight and extinguish every single lamp and candle. You stumble and kick off several of the books on your way forward.

You raise your head with a grinding motion towards the only light source around here – the stained, dust-covered windows. The little there is, is enough for you to find your way to the more exotic and theoretic type of text upon the shelves and tables. This is where you find yourself at loss; the gothic darkness makes it literally impossible to browse around. There are candles right next to you, on the table, as well as a lantern on the high ceiling above you.

>What do you do now?

>>28960705
Why must petty inconveniences halt us? Can we sustain our light spell long enough to look?

>>28960705
We can take the lantern and put a candle in it, so when we get a spell book to light the candle we don't need to constantly use our light spell when is die out.

With an amazingly easy hop you climb onto one of the many desks you find yourself standing close by with; while, almost immediately, the timber legs crack with an audible echo under the weight of your crystallized stature, they are somehow able to survive without sending the crack through the desk entirely. You raise yourself on your back hooves and, swiftly, you cling one of the many lanterns off the ceiling hook. You check if there’s an unused, or barely used, candle still inside of it and, luckily, there is. Say, just what are the chances of you finding a useful bonfire spell?

Once the metallic-brass lamp is properly stationed in your close proximity, you close your eyes to allow the purple shadow of your inner magic to envelop over your vision akin to a nightfall curtain. Then, just like many times before, you scribe in the cursed runes of the Luminus magical spell within the canvas of your mind. A cloud of boiling, eclipsing verve escapes out of your crystal body, quickly molding into a luminous, soul-drenching orb of light, basking the library wing half the way it is supposed to be – bright and welcoming, even if the brightness is of Tartarus origin.

>Body Changes:
07% [-1] Alicorn ‘Dark’ Magic[Magic]
01% [+1] Volatile Arcane [Magic]

You use the precious seconds of light given, curse the petty inconveniences that dare to impede you, to search through the jam-packed bookshelves, having a hard time finding anything that would be of use to a warlock like you. You settle on an “Encyclopedia of Spells by Nebula Stare”, a book of uncommon, uncertain unicorn spells. As your enchantment of radiance withers out and dies before your eyes, you escape closer to one of the stained windows of the library depicting either one of the library founders to let the reflecting, orange sunlight fall on the book’s pages.

You open the page randomly; it is theory and guidance behind the spell of Dragon’s Skin… Your attempt is fruitless.

>What do you do now?

>>28961082
We can't keep doing this. We need to find some way to light this.

File: The riddle.png (25KB, 798x719px) Image search: [Google]

25KB, 798x719px

I'm going to bed now so, I'll continue tomorrow.

>>28961082
Why don't we try the spell we where given by the Liberian, but invert the symbols.

>>28962309

>>28963280

>>28964010

>>28964776

>>28965392

>>28965937

File: Garmr.jpg (138KB, 1024x768px) Image search: [Google]

138KB, 1024x768px

Anybody tried searching Garmr? This is what I got.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garmr

Just what is the exact difference between the dark magic of Sombra and the magical arcane of your average unicorn? It is a question that you simply do not know the answer for, as your only contact with the baleful energy was the Crystal Note – a sentient asshole in form of a powerful, yet jailed, book entity. The difference is in hieroglyphs of the spells and the way in which they are supposed to be casted, that much is easy to realize. You are uncertain if it’s the specific way you are required to read the signs when you are using another kind of magic or if it’s an absolute requirement to use the unicorn inner magic in order to bring the runic powers to life. Regardless, you try to draw the symbols of the “Dragon’s Skin” spell and the “Third Eye” spell given to you by the librarian slave with inversion. Yet again, nothing happens. You feel as if you are trying to make potato mash without potatoes or milk!

There should be a sufficient amount of the so-called mana inside of you to keep the brightness cantrip undisturbed for no less than half an hour… and, whilst that is the case, you would prefer to keep your magic for things of further, bigger importance. You have a lamp and a barely used candle, all you need now is a way to light it – either a box of matches or a flint and tinder set would prove to be invaluable; it might even be useful in your future endeavors! With a clumsy struggle you place the lantern onto your back and, with the help of the crimson sunlight, you navigate though the long, overloaded with bookshelves and stepladders corridors until you are able to reach the upper story of the library – the headquarters. One of the doors leads to the archives and the second leads to the storage facility.

You find both of the doors to be locked and there is no key to find underneath the welcoming mat; no luck there.

>What do you do now?

>Inventory:
>Gravity Scapolite Gemstone
>Encyclopaedia of Spells by Nebula Stare
>Spell Casting Runes [Third Eye]

>>28966433
Attempt to search the nearby desks for keys or other items

>>28966433
If we can't find the keys to the door, then we break the door open.

>>28966990
Which door?

>>28967093
storage facility, the tinder box should be there.

You throw a passing glance across the main hallway, finding it hard to spot elements of interior with lockers or sideboards. As you sense a strange vibration in the scapolite gemstone necklace you now have over your neck, its effect still an uncertain mystery to you, you push it with utmost gentleness as if in a try to calm the sensation down. You have no luck finding a way in; who knows the stereotypical behavior of the citizens of Manehattan and how they prefect to carry or hide their keys – not you! With a weary sigh, you twist and tilt your stoic body just an instant before sending a potent, timber crushing buck into the doorframe. With an echoing shatter, the metal hinges fly off of their brackets and immediately after, the entire door tears into two and follows. Maybe you went overboard a bit.

You enter the storage facility with an easy step, trying to adjust your “eyes” to the fresh new hues of black. The room is full with all manners of cleaning and caring objects one would need in such a huge library. Brooms, baskets, cleaning rags, window powder, hammers, nails, stepladders – all of it is here. In addition, of course, they are library materials that are not used on a regular basis yet are required, such as writing feathers and book binders. With a closer inspection you spot an array of all-sized candles, empty lanterns, and steel snuffers and, finally, a fire starter.

You do not waste any more time and, with a total failure of a complete beginner, you struggle to light up the candle. With a huff and a puff and, maybe, a damnation to all which is sacred, you force the lantern to brighten up the room.

>What do you do now?

>>28967192
Search the room for items that may help us later, then read more from the book

>>28967192
Now we can see if we can find that book the liberian want us to have and maybe a book explaining why our magic is not working with the new spells we got.

>>28967285
>liberian
It's librarian anon.

>>28967258
What kind of items?

>>28967285
This.

>>28967258
It's a storage room for a library anon, I don't think we'll find something that will help us.

I'm pausing here by the way, thanks for playing.

>>28967897
Dammit. Oh well. We could take additional candles, a hammer just in case, even if our hooves may be harder I still think an improvised weapon is nice thing to have and the rags. They could be used as bandages for our friends in case of emergency. Then try to focus on the gemstone. When exactly did it start to vibrate? We were near the archives - go there and check what the gemstone will do. Last but not least, does any of you Anons have any idea what to do with the riddle Vince gave us?

Here, free bumps

>>28969831
This one is 9.99

>>28968618
No fuckin' idea.

>>28971799
Boop.

You search through the room for items that might be of use despite the sorry state of your dampened creativity. You acclaim the things that are currently around you and then, you mull over the viability of their use. First, you take a common, slightly used purse which, most than likely, previously belonged to a passing undergraduate. While the most vital thing about this auspicious fashion accessory is the almost limitless size of it, and the ability to hold the things you have been having trouble carrying around with you, you do not complain about the neat, decorative elements of it.

You pick up a hammer, a useful DIY commodity, and a couple of additional, small wax candles. While the light of the lantern is somewhat pathetic compared to the luminosity of your powerful spell, it lasts for far longer. You settle on a pack of ten candles – a sufficient amount for today; and your future travels. Once that is done with, also pick up a bunch of cleaning rags, as much as you can toss into the handbag, in case you will be put in a situation of emergency.

For once, you are entirely grateful to the fact that you are unable to feel the heavy weight of the things you find yourself hauling. Avoiding a straining is always a plus; you wonder how much weight it would take to force your golem body to struggle with walking and, self-praise, you imagine, a lot. Regardless of your ego behind this horrifying situation, you smirk in amusement at your thoughts. Once you leave the premise of the facility you notice that the Gravity Scapolite calms in its mysterious trembling. You take a step back to make sure and, certainly, for one reason or another it vibrates in the premise of a narrow space. What exactly did Red Sulfur say – you cannot remember…?

Thinking that you will figure it out eventually, you place the Encyclopedia and the lamp on top of one of the tables and quickly browse through the pages of the tome; this time, with a much better and brighter view. Certainly, whoever this Nebula Stare pony is, her knowledge and research of exotic and uncommon unicorn spells is respectable.

In total, there are about eleven well-described and creative magical abilities for unicorns that are absolutely required to have magical aptitude. The list includes: “Rubigo”, “Recordatio”, “Fatum Dictio”, “Cognition Spatium”, “Disjunctio”, “Tranquillus Animus”, “Verba Cantata”, “Stella”, “Reficio”, “Draco Abscondas (Dragon’s Skin)” and “Suus Quaestio”. You make yet another attempt to carefully drag the runic symbols described in the pages inside your mind.

Nothing, this book might as well be worthless for you. With a tired sigh you put the Encyclopedia into your handbag before settling on a quick decision to check the archives, just in case. With another straightforward buck you bypass the annoyance that is the door lock and sway the door wide open, this time managing to keep the hinges intact. You find the archive office in surprisingly good shape, as if the dust itself was somehow forbidden to enter this particular, secluded room. You locate shelves filled with accumulated books, manuscripts and texts which deemed to be unready for the main wing or are considered part of the secretive or administrative documentation. With a quick stroll you approach one of the half-oval tables, belonging to an administrator, as you then place the lantern on top of it. In your interest you notice several letters, a strange sealed scroll and a yellowish academic journal.

When you attempt to reach out for one of them, however, the strange gemstone over your neck falls into sporadic pulsation. Then, in an almost eldritch howl of air wind, the door loudly smashes behind you. At first, that’s all there’s to it but then… your dim, circular and yellowish crystal gem practically pulls your body towards the sky. Suddenly, the gravity inside the room disappears, or it, at least, looks that way. All the books, all the chairs, all the shelves and even you, yourself, gently rise to hover a few meters above the floor level. It’s a strange, ethereal kind of feeling.

>What do you do now?

Only post for today guys, sorry, it took me a while and even now I'm high on coffee pills.

Bump before night.

>>28972947
Oh shit. Check if we can float by waving our limbs like we are swimming. If not, panic and try to reach for the scroll or magic it towards us. I'm pretty sure this is the thing responsible for the current fuckery.

>>28973577
gnight

>>28972947
Grab that fucking scroll and break the seal on it

>>28972940
>The list includes: “Rubigo”, “Recordatio”, “Fatum Dictio”, “Cognition Spatium”, “Disjunctio”, “Tranquillus Animus”, “Verba Cantata”, “Stella”, “Reficio”, “Draco Abscondas (Dragon’s Skin)” and “Suus Quaestio”.

So, anybody up for translating?

>>28972947
Didn't Red say the gem activates in an enclosed space or something similar?

>>28977428
He did, yeah!

You attempt to fling in your front legs in a clumsy manner similar to the one of a swimming stroke and, eventually, you end up slowly dog paddling through the gravityless area towards the hovering scroll. On your way you awkwardly bump your head on several of the cardboard file-holders and floating shelves. With an anxious irritation you start grabbing and tossing the objects of your annoyance into every corner of the room, thus gradually making your way forward. With a crawling pace similar to your own, the floating objects bump off the old fashioned walls, decorated in what appears to be a rudimentary conservative pattern, and end up flying back towards you.

Like a bleeding pony trapped inside a nest of starving mosquitoes, you attempt to avoid and dodge the incoming items of pain until, in about five minutes or so, you finally come close enough to jab the sealed scrolled into your hooves. The clay seal reminds you of a royal, or, at least, a noble variety with an imprint of what looks like a skull of a stallion holding the scroll together. The gravity of the situation appears to have nothing to do with it; it’s the scapolite that is pushing your body and somehow magically influencing this room – just as Red Sulfur told you. You are unsure of how to, if it’s even needed, bring the whole situation to a flat level.

With a mental swallow you drag your crystallized hoof against the clay seal of the scroll, quickly breaking it open into two pieces with an incredible ease. The scroll is found to surprisingly empty, the three pea green runes enveloping only one sixth of the vastly larger page. A text above it reads in small letters: “There is no truth in what words utter.”

>What do you do now?

>>28978557
Create the runes in the mindscape and see of the spell will activate, whatever it is

You attempt to fall into an absolute concentration and meditate inside the weightless and buoyant atmosphere. Despite the fact that this is not the first time that you are pushed to float through the weightless air, courteousness of the Pegasus Soarin, this is still an extremely abnormal and unusual thing for you. Some sources say that the first ever Crystal Ponies were the lost relatives of the Earth Pony clan, and, at least for you, it kind of shows. You feel much safer when you are able to feel, or nowadays just see, your hooves touching the ground and caressing either the stone or earth surface; when you are close to the natural formations and crystals you feel at ease. So why is it a problem now, you ask yourself, when you are one giant semiprecious stone? Despite the fact that it was your father’s natural gift and special talent, he was a pearl diver after all, swimming was never something you were too much contented with either. Regardless, you grind your back legs underneath your rump and then, you finally fall into a shadow dream.

The black veil covers your vision as if you sit through the fall of a night inside a forsaken forest yet, even in this gloom, you are able to coherently envision, form and, finally, gouache in the three incandescent symbols. It feels correct, somehow; finally, it is a charm that brightens and heats up the purple, demonic fire of your inner energy to a symbiotic extent. From all the openings of your body, the shadow smoke raises fervently. A spell of supremacy, a novel spell; the purple haze sizzles and boils up through the entire room, like a claw of Tartarus the gust rends through the atmosphere… And then, there’s silence.

The spell was casted, there is no mistaking it; for absolute certain. The magic was crafted in your vision.

So then… what did it do – you ponder, and only then you realize that your mental voice is loud and audible…

>Body Changes:
06% [-1] Alicorn ‘Dark’ Magic [Magic]
02% [+1] Volatile Arcane [Magic]

>New Spell Learned:
[Audible Thoughts][Cost: 1% Dark Magic]
Creates a space of five meters in size; the aura inside magically echoes the thoughts of ponies inside.

>What do you do now?

File: King's Deal.png (2MB, 1366x768px) Image search: [Google]

2MB, 1366x768px

>>28978934
Sorry for the sporadic updates this week, I won't be able to do a proper session in a while, probably, which is why I hope this will suffice. I might run a short session tomorrow, however.

>>28978934
This just might come in handy somehow. But was this what the mare told us about?

>>28979683
good luck

>>28980870
I feel it wasn't, but we finally learned a new spell, which is neat.

>>28979683
That's okay, Vince.

I think we can be master interrogator now.

>>28978934
Let grab the crystal so the room can go back to normal.

On a deciding note I'm taking a break today but, hopefully, I'll assist too, this thread will stay until tomorrow when I'll be have a day off to run a long session! Thank you all for playing so far.

B is for Body made out of crystals.

U

>>28988851

This might just be the most useful spell you could possibly discover at this point; or so the audible resonance of your consideration tells you. The reality that every single one of your ideas repeats inside this enchanted circle finally strikes you in like an eldritch reality. It’s a moderately horrifying spell - you think to yourself and swiftly after, the ever-free ghost of your mind repeats the same in agreement. Struck hovering in the weightless atmosphere of your own set trap, forced to listening to hear your own sporadic thoughts akin to a lecture, you attempt to strike or pull the crystal necklace off your body; dejectedly, it does nothing to break the strange, gravity charm of the room you find yourself inside.

With an ever-present struggle and a loud reprise of your aggravated monologue, and inner cursing too, you reach the wooden entrance if the room in no less than a ten of hardly fraught minutes. With a barrel roll you finallymanage to catch enough speed to smash the door wide-open and lift the physical hex of your gemstone off the room! Your loud “Fuck!” echoes across it as every single object, big or small - including you, comes crashing down. The rough landing leaves a couple of cracks upon your body. It is nothing severe, if not unpleasant. As you kick to stand up from the stun, you spot the couple of letters, probably addressed to or from the slave librarian, and a journal with a small metallic lock of somepony with a name, or penname, of “Ecological Gradient”.

{You don’t really have the right to invade a pony’s privacy anymore…right?} Your thoughts echo back at you.

>What do you do now?

>>28989744
Read the letters but don't break open the journal, at least not yet.

>Your loud “Fuck!” echoes across it as every single object, big or small - including you, comes crashing down.
Heh. You know she was glad nobody was around to hear that.

On impulse you raise your hoof to rub on the imaginary lump over your head, the pain is surprisingly real. You shrug your head with a grind, looking over the distress your magical stone have caused. {Maybe it’s not a good idea to be walking around with it?} – Your thoughts reiterate audibly. {Can you even find any use for it, besides the chaos? Eh, later, maybe. How does one stop thinking? For Amore’s sake! Stop!} You stop, attempting to calm your mind and mentality. The dark magic is your lifeblood and energy, it is what allows you to think, speak and move. You are in complete power over your own reality, with no limitations such as a brain. {I might as well check the letters here, then.}

You pick up a couple of the ones you can spot and find beneath the rubble; all of them are addressed to the librarian manager “Mylar Print”. With a raise of your mental eyebrow, you open two letters with already previously broken seals.

One of them is from a stallion: “Documented Data”.
“Ms. Mylar Print. I write you wishing that this letter reaches you and the city of Manehattan in good health. Canterlot has successfully received your delivery of all the unicorn literature, scrolls and manuscripts previously present in your Public Library. I, too, agree that in the situation that is currently facing Manehattan, we can’t allow any important and dangerous relics and artifacts to reach the hooves of Sombra. Do not worry; for those items will await your victory!”

The second one is from a mare: “Ecological Gradient”.
“Ms. Mylar Print. I thank you for being o’kay with keeping my research projects and academic journal in safety until I am able to return back. The court has given me a week of labor work for my, as they say, hostile and unrequired acts of faux self-defense. Of course, that is not true in the slightest and the bastards deserved a jab in their throat! See ya.”

>What do you do now?

>>28990191
All the important stuff was sent to Canterlot, makes sense. I say we keep looking for that book that mare told us about. Did we ever get her name?

All the important stuff was sent to Canterlot city, it seems; yet the scroll of the dark magical spell and Nebula Stare’s Encyclopedia were still here when you found them. The local librarian they address their letters towards - Mylar Print, while you’ve never asked for her name, it would be commonsense to assume that she and that librarian slave are one and the same. With a surprise you throw a neurotic and suspenseful glare across the wreckage of the room. Your thoughts, Amore’s Grace, no longer resonate in a glass echo from the walls of the foundation. There’s a time limit on this new spell of yours, it seems; five or ten minutes tops. You look over the ruined shelves and the toppled over books to no avail. You spend about an additional half an hour looking over through the entire library but, in the end, you are unable to find anything else of interest of value. There are no books of magic, especially dark magic of yours.

>What do you do now?

>>28990547
I don't think there's anymore to gain here. At least we got a new spell. Let's go see if we can find her husband and look for Blackward. That's the steampunk commander, right?

You release a tired and rasp sigh, closing one of the dozen books you have been searching through to no avail. After a short, contemplating pause you place it back on the shelves together with the rest. You adjust your purse with all the items you have gathered, you extinguish and place the lantern over your left side and then, finally, you turn on your hooves, trotting towards the way out. If there’s a way to learn unicorn spells, the Encyclopedia is going to end up being very useful. You do not know that much about dark magic, you realize. In the past, Sombra could explain it…?

You slam the heavy, grand two-sided door behind yourself, opening yourself to the freezing, late afternoon air. You take a couple of steps down, making sure not to accidently stumble on the stairs. You stop to look over the marble stallions holding the heavy, entrance archway on their backs and shoulders – what can it even be representing? The struggle of those two stone sculptures, you wager? Hopefully, it’s a struggle that every visiting pony should have seen.

Your attention is then immediately caught by a vigorously blazing roar of burning smoke and steam. Like snowfall of bad luck, you noticed the black, tinder ash descending all around you; it falls in a slow and depressing conduct. Dropped over by an entire vanguard of heavily augmented and tormented ponies, the flying army circles high above you in what appears to be a military preparation. Blackward is the only pony amongst them without a Fidelity Helmet.

With an earsplitting and symphonized turn of their clockwork enhancements, the Manehattan Vanguard raises towards the sky, spitting out a trail of smoke that slowly forms into an enormous, giant eye. The final touch of their “performance” is the fire that spits out of their turbines when they pass through the eyeball, turning the iris into a fire sphere similar to the “Eye of Sombra” in the Crystal Empire. You escalate your step to madly dash after them. It takes a while to finally catch up with them, just a moment after they land in perfect, eldritch union. Blackward, the Royal Hastiliarius, is the last one who lands in front of the army and, on his order, all of them immediately fold up their wings.

“We are not bunch of individuals,” he says, as if they were actually listening or understanding, “But a single, powerful unit. Your efforts today are complimentary, soldiers of the Manehattan Vanguard, not perfect; complimentary alone.”

>What do you do now?

>>28991123
Approach Blackward when he's finished. I would like to ask him about this force of ponies and perhaps if we can bother him to take one of his soldiers to company us to Hallow Shade or whatever it's called my memory is shit because Shield told us to and we're going it alone otherwise.

>>28991471
Doing a stop here, will continue next Friday. Thank you very much for playing!