Aram's Not Dead

As the last update to the story ticks closer and closer to the one year mark, I decided to make a post for anyone worried about the status of MLA:FiS. Good news: the story's not dead, I'm just kinda stuck in a rut (again) and my work life isn't helping. Suffice to say, I'm still chipping away at the next story and most of the main scenes are established. Most of what needs to be written is the stuff linking the scenes together, filling in the blank space and whatnot. For those still dedicated enough to have stuck around this long and all those new to the story, below is a little teaser scene of what's to come in Part II Chapter 9: Till Death do us Part, enjoy...
I hate that fimfiction no longer recognizes tabs...

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Dawn...

“Be safe, Moonbeam,” Choc gave a nod to the unicorn, then to Rain, “Rain,” and finally to me, “Yashcheritsa.”

“We’ll be safe, I promise,” Moonbeam smiled, giving the earth pony a quick embrace.

‘Don’t mess up too badly!’ I turned a soft glare to Discord’s statue, ‘What? I’m rooting for you! Go team Sithis!’

“We’ll be back,” I said to nopony in particular.

I flinched as there was a sudden sound of someone blowing their nose into a handkerchief, followed by a loud explosion, ‘Farewell!’ a suddenly tearful Discord spoke up, ‘Oh, how I’ll miss you, my darling!’

“Okay, we’re leaving!” I said, turning on my heel and making a hasty retreat towards the main entrance. Rain and Moonbeam followed with confused frowns.

‘What? Was it something I said…’ I heard Discord’s voice ask, fading as I reached the limit of our...bizarre connection.

Immortals, my mind seemed to shrug, What can you do?

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There wasn’t much conversation as we started out, everyone was a little nervous. I had to admit even I was feeling a little knot in my guts, Equestria was entirely unknown to me, nothing like the familiar, cold misery that Skyrim was. We had crossed the bridge and started on the path to Ponyville when we made our first pit stop.

“I see you are armed, should I be alarmed?” Zecora rhymed from just behind.

My acolytes and I jumped, turning and spotting the strange, cloaked Zebra watching us from the path to our rear. I motioned for them to settle as the zebra simply stood there, looking relaxed with her hood back.

Quiet thing… I mentally grumbled, “You’re in no danger, Zecora,” I replied with the truth, crossing my arms as I turned to her. My acolytes stayed ahead of me on the path, “There’s somepony who needs our help.”

“If by ‘help’ you mean ‘hurt’ then I shall be quite alert.”

“I didn’t say that,” I replied, uncrossing my arms and turning back to the path.

“Before you go, perhaps you should know…” Zecora stopped me with a warning, “Ponyville is in uproar, it seems they are quite sore,” at my curious look, she continued, “A statue has been removed from Canterlot. A long ways away, quite a distance to trot. Stolen last night, it caused quite the fright...”

I merely gave a shrug, “Thanks for the warning, I’ll keep a sharp eye out.”

“See that you do…” Zecora said, trailing off.

I frowned when she didn’t continue.

Odd creature, my mind commented.

Very, I agreed, turning and gesturing for my acolytes to follow.

Zecora remained where she was, watching my back until the forest had swallowed me and I’d moved out of earshot, “...Many eyes are watching you.”

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Heeding Zecora’s advice, we took the long way around, avoiding Ponyville altogether. There was no real rush and we’d decided against using the train system, better to leave as few breadcrumbs as possible when it came to murder. Vanhoover was only a few days walk and there were no scheduled storms on our route.

Scheduled storms! My mind remarked, There’s something you don’t get to say very often!

I’d never had a horse back in Skyrim, when one of my targets was in some far-reaching place, I walked. It was a good way to collect ingredients and it gave me time to think on how I could take out my target.

And more importantly, it let me be alone.

No such luck regarding that, my mind commented, drawing my eyes back to Rain and Moonbeam, each with their own set of packed saddlebags.

“Just like old times, eh, Moonbeam?” Rain asked, “Roaming the countryside in search of pockets to pick and skulls to crack together.”

“In search of adventure!” Moonbeam gulped, trying to put on a brave face, “Only now our end goal is killing a pony,” he turned his head away, staring off towards the horizon.

Rain frowned, eyes finding mine as she gave a shrug. Speeding her pace, she caught up to me, “So…” she started.

“Yes?” I asked.

“You ever killed a pony like this before?” Rain asked, “Any tips or tricks? You got a game plan?”

Thinking back with a contemplative scowl, I considered a moment before something clicked, “There was this crotchety, old breton once…”

“Sorry, question,” Rain interrupted me, “Breton?”

“Like nords, but magical,” I answered.

“What’s a nord?” Moonbeam asked.

“Like Aram, but not like Aram,” Rain answered for me, “Flat faces, no tail, smooth skin, and a mane or something, I dunno.”

“Weird,” Moonbeam said, studying me more intently for a moment.

“There was an old breton,” I continued, “The old fool wouldn’t die naturally and he was sitting on a wealth of gold and valuables, all in his will. Suffice to say, his sons were getting tired of his breathing so they took out a contract on him to speed things up.

“It was actually supposed to be easy, the old fool could hardly even crap on his own. I know, I watched him for a day or two before I actually killed him.”

“Ew,” Moonbeam commented.

“He’s an old stallion...er, breton, why not just walk up and kill him?” Rain inquired, with a laugh, “What’s he gonna do, breathe his old grandsire breath on you?”

“He incinerated the first assassin they sent to kill him,” I countered flatly, seeing Rain’s smile die on her face, “Probably because he thought the same way that you do.

“This old man wasn’t a fool, he’d studied magic all his life and knew it like he knew it like the back of his hand. After the first assassin he set up runes all around the house...magical traps,” I added at the look I got from the ponies, “And he kept recasting a spell that made his skin as strong as ebony...the ore, not the…” I grumbled at the second odd look I got, “He cast a spell that made his skin almost impervious to damage...almost.

“But he had a habit that he kept to, I told you he could hardly crap by himself?” My two acolytes nodded, “Well, his outhouse was a short walk from his home.”

“So you got him while he was on the shitter?” Rain asked.

“Ew,” Moonbeam said again.

“Not quite so simply, but yes, I shot him on his way back, only thing is I knew he cast a life detection spell before he left so I had to be a ways away. I poisoned one of my arrows with a paralysis poison, lay in wait a ways away, and shot him when he went to return to his home.

“From there it was as simple as getting down there before the poison wore off, while avoiding a couple runes, and opening his neck with one of my knives.”

“Clever,” Rain smiled.

“But not super helpful if we’re talking about our current situation,” Moonbeam put in, “No poisons and it needs to look like an accident.”

“Okay, maybe not exactly what we need, but with some similarities,” Rain said, turning her head to Moonbeam, “We monitor Spruced Up, find a habit to exploit, and exploit it, right?” she looked back to me.

“Right,” I said.

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