//------------------------------//
// Entering the Black Market 
// Story: A War 
// by Comma Typer 
//------------------------------//

The bleak badlands.
Hot, dry, and barren for the most part. There was not much else to describe except that it was more dry ground with infesting weeds, dying trees, and old rocks for miles and miles.
It never seemed to end.
On the face of a steep brown cliff, though, was an exception to the rule of lifeless gloom. There, more airships and other flying vehicles stayed on the wooden platforms strutting out of the rugged sharp sides—various balloons in dark colors alongside cycle-powered airplanes attended to by whoever was there.
And, indeed, "whoever" was more than just ponies. In fact, ponies were the minority in this shady, seedy location. A pegasus wiped an airship clean with one rag, and then he would give it to a changeling who watched over the vehicle's griffon owners accompanied by dragon clients and assistants holding crude briefcases chained to their arms.
Past the docking stations and platforms—with no railings or some other kind of protection to prevent unwary visitors from falling—one would encounter a criminal society hidden within the cliff.
This was Sortmores.
Once a visitor passed by the diverse guards—assuming he did not fall off the no-railing platform—he would find himself in a city with almost no contact with sunlight, not to mention it reeked of weeks-old garbage. The sources of light there were murky lanterns and candles plus some flashlights for the more well-to-do lawbreakers thriving there.
Jutting out of the rough and rocky walls were dirty buildings and stalls, their materials rotting or decaying, always replaced with a bunch of new wood or cheap metal. Out on the streets which were nothing more than barely paved roads, a medley of creatures roamed about, each of them intent on some serious business by the focused looks on their eyes—no loud chatter since hushed whispers here were the norm; noisy talking was reserved for the inside, and even then, it was sporadic. For some, thick and heavy clothes was the dress, their faces covered by their garb against the dismal shadows cast by the dim lights around.
Out of a four-floor wooden structure, two buffaloes threw a coated deer into the open, closing the doors before him. The deer scurried away, avoiding the fierce looks heaped upon him by passersby, though he bumped into a cat hiking the path.
"Watch where you're going!" Capper yelled, shaking a fist at the fleeing deer.
The crew of pirates beside him looked around, walking vigilant with hands ready at their holstered swords.
Several breezies flew past them, carrying little swords of their own.
Capper did not pay attention to this, for he looked on, following Celaeno as they shifted under an array of faint lights from a myriad of suspicious places not helped by their closed windows and their muscular guards.



The parrot pirates and the lone cat opened the door to one of those places.
They were greeted by the sight of a bar, a casino, and a fighting box all rolled into one spacious wooden room brimming with customers. All was lit by the many lanterns strewn about, hanging on the walls and from the ceiling and on the tables, too.
The bar was made up of a borrowed metal counter and a run-down chalked on menu. Racks of bottles and barrels were behind the bartenders which were two cats and a unicorn, shaking up some cocktails and pouring them into mugs which they then slammed on the surface for drinkers to snag up and chug down. The casino, if it could be called one, was only three tables where card games were played; though the players were few, there were many observers and betters, silent in that code of honor to never give one of them an unfair advantage by telling them their opponents' hands—or hooves, or claws, or whatever. The fighting box was a medium-sized ring where, currently, two griffons were battling it out by flying at each other, slashing the enemy with their pointed claws and their pointed blades attached to those claws, with the one who passed out first being the loser and dragged to the floor for recovery by the local doctors while the winner, who did not pass out, stood proud and was given a huge sum of bits by the loser's accomplices.
On the balconies above, more patrons could be found either talking in subdued tones or counting their bits and examining their newly-purchased merchandise.
"Remember, everyone," Celaeno whispered to her crew and Capper, "look for the Earth pony wearing yellow armor."
So, they stuck together, walking to the center of the room, moving into the chaos as they turned their heads here and there, searching for that one person.
Leery eyes watched them.
Then, by a staircase to the second floor and its balcony, an Earth pony matching that description stood, yawning.
Celaeno and the rest passed around the other guests in the establishment, finally trudging up to him.
The pony widened his eyes at the sight of them. "According to schedule, then. No time to waste—get upstairs."



Another door was opened.
It led to a tiny room occupied by two changelings wearing metal armor, gripping their spears as they guarded the only table inside. On the walls were various maps with arrows pointing to this and that spot in Equestria.
The crew of pirates and Capper followed suit, walking inside.
The pony flicked his head at the changelings. "Get out and stay outside. We're going to be discussing some...secret subjects."
They nodded, said nothing, and flew out of the door, closing it behind them.
"And, to be extra sure..."
He walked around the crew and locked the door.
Walked to the table and sat down on it.
"You may take a seat."
They took the extra chairs and pushed them closer to the table. A few more chairs were left over.
"Had to prepare for anything," the pony said, taking off his helmet and his armor, revealing a yellow mane which complemented his blue coat. "What if I get a big opportunity staring straight at me? Lots of bits to be made, but you have to catch it while it's around."
Capper groaned. "Save the obvious for later, mister."
Celaeno glared at him.
He shrugged and smirked. "We know that stuff now."
The captain turned to the pony across the table, pulling out a sack of items. "Here's what you ordered."
She carefully placed it on the table and, one by one, took the individual objects out.
"We got the dragon's toenail you wanted," Celaeno said, holding the said toenail up—it was heavy and dirty. "It was easy. Found a sleeping dragon and cut it out." Then, she held up a bouquet of purple flowers. "We have the Fairlava flowers. Bit harder than the toenail since the shopkeepers weren't so keen on having us get the only ones left for a long while, but we managed it." After that, she carried a little box where a small ruby rested. "The enchanted Stone of Sproging. Lots of puzzles and explosions, but you wanted it because of its explosive properties, so...I guess I should've expected that when we came for it."
The pony nodded, smiling a little.
"Finally—" held up another plant but with no flowers "—here's the Amplification Plant. Looks simple, but we almost lost our chance at it—our scuffles at Thicket attracted the attention of the Guard. Our escape was quite the close call."
He studied the objects before him, resting on the table.
Looked at Celaeno and smiled. "Good work."
He brought up another sack, clinking a lot as it dropped to the table.
Capper leaned closer. "Is that the payment?"
The pony nodded, then faced the pirates only. "Although, since you've been through a lot of trouble to fetch these, I feel obliged to not only give you money but also...information."
Everyone else raised their heads at that.
"Precisely...why do I need these things in the first place?"
Celaeno scratched her chin. "Didn't you say it was for a personal project?"
"That's half true," he said, staying on his seat. "It started out as a personal project, but it was never bound to stay personal. That's because..."
He inclined himself a bit over the table.
"I'm working on mass destruction."