"If I were a mad king and I wanted to hide a magical artifact, the one thing that my enemies could use to defeat me, where would I put it?"

The Outlander was walking to the oversized, overly intricate, and overly dreary crystal castle. Obviously the artifact would be there, but would it be the highest tower? No, that was reserved for maidens and princesses. At least, that's what he remembered. So the deepest dungeons? Perhaps, though he wondered what kind of monsters a king of shadows would favor. Wraiths? Maybe he'd have a few zombies in there, or mind bending, soul devouring horrors with magical mirrors that stole the sanity of those that gazed upon them? Wait, the guy was an illusionist, right? So it would be the last place he would look!

Whipping around and sticking his nose into his bags, he let out a disappointed sigh. Why did he never get the easy quests? What did Harry do to earn getting his quest's artifact stuck in his pocket? Sometimes it just felt like he had the worst luck, which was odd, because his luck was 84.

Seriously, what did that stat even do, anyway?

It was certainly a unique experience reaching his destination without having something jump out and try to stab him. Actually, it left him kind of disappointed, as he'd not had any chance to try swinging Trueflame with a hoof yet. What good was it to have a flaming sword if you couldn't use it on something?

The path up to the castle comprised of a ridiculous amount of stairs, and it took all of his willpower not to try jumping the entire way. Not only would it have left him exhausted, he was actually feeling a bit sleepy, a sensation that was alien to him at this point. It also left him excited once more though, as it meant sleeping in a soft, comfy bed. Oh, and dreams. Maybe he would have a dream about laying in a soft comfy bed? Walking past an old brazier, he suddenly wretched, nearly puking as a horrid sensation passed over him. 'Oh god, what was that?' He hadn't eaten anything lately, right? the only thing he'd done lately was eat alchemy ingredients, and those didn't do anything for him, so what- oh. Oh, the ashes. He really needed to get over that, before he ate something toxic.

Finally managing to pick himself back up, he entered the main hall, enjoying the artistry along the way, and searching for the main throne room. 'Lets see, Punching-bag Ur kept his weaknesses pretty close to his base of operations, and I'd assume the throne room is Sombra's base, so there has to be some type of clue somewhere around here.... so many hallways.... eeny meeny miny...'

'Hello? Damnit, I'm doing it again.' "Hello? Anyone there?"

No response came, so the lost wandered into the room, eyeing the strange metal dishes spread out all over the room. Some hung on walls, others on racks over metal grates covering what looked like fire-pits. Some long forgotten part of him said he knew what the room was called, but he couldn't place it. It had something to do with food preparation, though. Maybe that's why he couldn't remember. There wasn't much eating going on back in Vvardenfell. Popping the lock on a back door, he entered a storage room and did what he always did while exploring fortresses of doom; looting the hell out of every container he came across.

"Empty, empty, don't know what that is, don't want to know what that was, empty, don't think that's supposed to be fuzzy, some-No, don't eat it, you'll get yourself sick again..."

This continued for a while, until he found a few containers towards the back with runes on them. They were cool to the touch, and upon opening one, he swore he heard a heavenly chorus.

"Jackpot..."

The wanderer eventually made it to another room of the castle, though he was traveling at a more sedate pace now. The container was a godsend, if he was honest, though he would be paying for it later.

Apples. Honest to god, real, juicy, fresh, delicious apples. Oh, he'd cried when he first managed to sink his teeth into one, the first thing he'd eaten in almost a century. It had been getting to that first bite that was the problem. He'd immediately tried eating them, but was lost in confusion when it didn't work. Eventually he'd worked out that he had to take off his helmet, pick up the fruit, bite the fruit, chew the fruit(almost forgot about that one, lost a perfectly good piece of apple when he choked on it) and then swallow the fruit. It certainly was a battle, but it was worth it, by the Nine was it worth it.

Checking the mannequins (ponyquins?) and weapon racks of the armory, he went along each rack looking for anything worth the carry weight. He was severely disappointed. 'Iron, iron, steel, iron, some shoddy crystal piece, not even half as strong as glass and twice the weight, yuck. What gives? It's all junk!'

What kind of fortress of doom was this? There were no traps, there were no monsters, no bound demons attempting to add another lost soul to the defenses, this was getting downright boring.

"Except for the apples, the apples were nice..." He mumbled to himself, drooling slightly.

'...and behind door number seven, we have...by Mara's bouncing bosom....'

Books as far as the eyes could see, several floors of them, and approaching a shelf, he learned that there wasn't a single copy to be found. All of these books were entirely unique! The levels he could gain reading through this library! If he hadn't already maximized most of them over the years out of sheer boredom, it would be a cakewalk to do so here. Alas, he needed to find something in particular, so he started going down the line. At first he was going to open each book in turn, only stopping when his journal updated, but the journal didn't seem to be working anymore, so he had to do this the old fashioned way. Gazing around at the mountains of books, he sighed. 'This may take some time.'

"...crystal heart was taken by the king of shadows, yadda yadda, I know all this, where did he put it? Where the hell did he hide a glowing, blue, two-foot tall heart-shaped rock?" The outlander muttered, slapping his head against the book. It was a pain in the butt, trying to turn the pages with his hooves, but he managed to get by. Maybe he was looking in the wrong place. Actually, yea, if he kept an evil diary he wouldn't put it in the big library where anyone could walk in and find it, he would keep it in his room. Probably in his underwear drawer. Wait, did ponies wear underwear? That guy out there was in the nude, but he did say he was lost and confused. Did he just wander outside stark-naked in his confusion? Oh dear, how many poor kids were traumatized by that!?! He could have said something! He was just so distracted by the power he'd been tracking with his-

Immediately a hoof struck his helmet, leaving a resounding gong as metal struck metal. His enchantment tracking spell! Even if the heart was inactive it should still give off an energy signature he could use to find it. He could have saved himself hours!

Then again, he probably wouldn't have found the apples if he didn't go searching. Maybe he had enough time to head back for one more.

"The hidden chamber in the throne room was cliché, but it was nicely hidden. I didn't even see the seam. The magically trapped door was a good try, but useless against someone with enough anti-magic enchantments on their armor, or who's fought vampires, zombies, demons, and those creepy as hell naked scorpion-bat-woman things. But this? I put my fo-er, hoof down at this. This is just stupid."

The outlander was standing at the base of a set of stairs going up to a pedestal that was apparently holding the crystal heart. His frustration stemmed from the fact that every time he started walking up the crystal stairs, the flipped down, becoming a ramp that caused him to slide back down to the bottom, before the stairs would revert to their regular form. There had to be a trick to this. He just had to figure it out. What did he know about the guy? He obviously liked crystals, considering the décor, and he had a thing for stairs. Maybe that was it. It was stupid, but hell, he'd drowned himself before for the sake of a quest. Why not, right?

"..And I love you *step* and I love you *step* and I love you *step*, and I most certainly, most definitely love you, little stair. You know why? *hop* Because you're the last Gods-damned step of the group."

Finally looking up at the chamber surrounding the heart, he noticed he could see the entirety of the city from here. It was one of the highest towers of the castle. First off, how did he not see this on his way in? He could have used a levitation spell and been up here in about five minutes, baring any magical barriers to the outside. Second, the highest towers were where you put the lovely girls. Either Sombra was a very confused Demon King of Shadowy Evil, or the wanderer needed to have a nice long conversation with him about his obsession. Rocks made terrible waifus. Pillows were the way to go. So soft, and you could flip them over and they'd be all nice and cool, and they never complained if you had more than one.

Walking up to the glowing blue heart shaped rock, the wanderer let out a sigh of relief. It was about damn time. He carefully wrapped it in his cloak, held it in his forehooves, and cast his slowfall spell before hopping out of the tower. There was no way he was taking that path back to the throne room. Fuck stairs.

Stowing his helmet in his inventory, he made his way back into town, where he caught a mares attention, asking where they wanted the rock. She was confused at first, until he showed her the Crystal Heart, and she had quickly ushered him to a pedestal. Obviously that was where they wanted it. Carefully placing the heart in it's rightful place, the thing started glowing. Before he knew it, the citizens were approaching from all directions, in an almost zombie like trance. Once most of them were gathered, the artifact gave off some brilliant light, that made all the ponies look kind of like living crystals. Actually, it made him look kind of crystalline as well.

He'd returned the rock, the ponies were happy, and some stallions and mares were standing in front of him, passing a gratuitous amount of praise his way, but the lost didn't hear a word he said. His focus was on the odd rumbling in his gut. Something was wrong, but the fog in his mind hadn't quite cleared enough for him to remember what the problem was. Was he sick again? He'd avoided eating anything bad as far as he could remember, and it couldn't be indigestion, as it had been a few hours since he had those apples. So what was it.

The guy in front of him asked him something, and he just nodded along. All the ponies around him were naked, so it wasn't just the nut he ran into earlier, all the ponies were naturists, it appeared. Freaks...

Another gurgle from his gut doubled him over. 'Sweet mother of mercy, what did I do?'

"Sir, are you okay? I can take you to the healer if you need, they can let the sickness out."

Out. That's what he'd forgotten. The apples were like a pack of dogs, barking at the back door. Oh holy mother of mercy, he only hoped he found a bathroom in time. He had no wish to unleash Namira's wrath at the large gathering that was celebrating the return of an artifact of purity and happiness.

Grabbing a stallion by the neck with both forelegs, and with a desperate look on his face, he managed to gurgle his demand. "Toilet. Now. Where?"

Author's Notes:

Whenever I get to thinking about someone not being able to eat or feel for a long time, I think of Captain Barbossa's lines about the first thing he's going to do when he gets rid of his curse. I also wonder if they'll remember that what goes in must come out.

I know it's pretty silly, but I don't think I'd be taking anything seriously after being able to beat someone with a staff that heals them with every hit. And don't you morrowind players tell me you didn't do this, in at least some permutation.