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// I totally know what I'm doing.  
// Story: Destination: Thataway! 
// by Hawattie 
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	The dust and debris didn't clear until we were well outside the tower. When it did, I got my first good look at my captors/saviors. The lead foal, the one who had spoken, was a little purple pegasus with a mustache. I kid you not, this guy had a full-blown handlebar on his face. How he grew one, I'll never know.
When I finished marveling over their leader's facial hair, I took notice of the other two foals in my escort. The one who seemed to be second in command was a teal unicorn filly wearing a dynamite bandolier. My guess is that she used the sticks which had previously occupied the two empty slots on her belt to force an entry to the sorceress's tower.
Speaking of the sorceress, she's gonna have one hay of a draft until she gets that fixed.
The final foal was unremarkable in every aspect. She had one of those faces you forget immediately, and a coloration which just blends into the background. She didn't even have a cutie mark to differentiate herself from the unwashed masses.
I think I'll call her "generic foal #17".
It was really interesting watching the foals try to stealthily lead me to their base of operations. While 'Stache was pretty good, doing ninja rolls between bushes and the like, Dynamite and 17's attempts were simply laughable. They would try to roll like 'Stache, only to end up flat on their faces, or they would try to hide behind a tree, only to leave their tails hanging out.
They really need to work on their sneak skills. Right now I'd say they're at a five out of a hundred.
And if my escort's attempts at stealth were bad, don't even get me started on mine. Hay, I trip over my hooves when I'm walking normally! I was forced to move out in the open at a light trot to keep up! 
In hindsight, the foals were pretty silly to leave me unattended while they focused on "sneaking." I could have very easily just walked away and they would've been none the wiser.
Ah well, I would've missed all the fun stuff that came afterwords if I had done that. 
Eventually, we did make it to the foal mafia's base of operations and no one saw us on the way. Their base turned out to be nothing more than a (admittedly very cool) treehouse just outside town.
"Your base is a treehouse?" I asked incredulously. "I was honestly expecting something a bit more... I dunno, snazzy."
'Stache opened the door to reveal a typical foal's hangout. There were a couple crude drawings littered about, a few small chairs, and a high tech-looking panel of levers and buttons hidden behind a revolving wall.
"Just you wait," 'Stache said, walking up to the panel. He took one of the bigger levers, a shiny one ornamented with a big blue bobble, and yanked it down. "Our real base," he paused just long enough for me to notice the floor sliding open to reveal a gaping hole in the ground. Without warning, 17 pushed me into the hole right as 'Stache finished up. "Is thataway."