Stormy’s hooves clattered slightly where she sat on stage. She gulped, barely keeping her forelegs steady as she checked to make sure her violin was tuned properly.
It had been a while since she’d performed in front of a crowd, nevermind one this big and violent or for stakes as serious as her own violin, but she was no stranger to performing in front of crowds, not even one as unfamiliar and with creatures as strange looking as this.
That foreign exchange student year in the Gryphon lands had been a lot less dangerous than this, though. Okay, so, what could I play that hooman sailors would enjoy? Stormy could tell that she needed to make her mind up, and fast, as the normally raucous tavern was quickly quieting down as eyes began to focus on her. They were still loud, of course, but for a tavern it was almost silent. Gah! I should have learned more shanties and less country or classical!
Eyes shut, Stormy wracked her brain, and just as she was thinking of giving up, she decided on something that might just go over perfectly with a bunch of drunks.
Stormy took up her bow and placed the violin under her chin. She could hear a few jokes from the crowd about whether she would actually be able to play anything, which she found incredibly rude, but nonetheless, she began to play.
Without any build up, Stormy’s song began and her foreleg set to sawing her violin at a breakneck pace. The tune leapt to life and filled the common room with music the likes of which set their fists thumping tables and feet stomping the ground. Right away she could see she held the whole building’s attention.
It was almost enough to give her pause, but she quickly leapt into the song’s lyrics.
“A devil went down to Halia, she was lookin' for a soul to steal—” Stormy kept her movements simple, not trying to overdo the performance and trip herself up, but managed to at least scan a menacing, wide-eyed look over the crowd. “—When she came across this young mare sawin' on a fiddle 'n playin' it hot, the Devil jumped upon a hickory stump and said, "Girl, show me what you got!”
The last jeers and laughter from the crowd had faded, and her voice was the only one now in the tavern, commanding the common room entirely. Feeling a bit more confident, Stormy began to pace the stage as she played, walking on hind legs with her eyes out to the audience.
“The mare said, ‘My name's Stormy, and I'm not one to fear, so I'll take your bet; and you're gonna regret 'cause I'm gonna kick your rear!’”
Without the accompanying band music that went to the song, Stormy was mostly focused on improvising a bit of extra fiddle playing. She thought it sounded impressive enough that the crowd ought to give it a pass. It wasn’t like they’d ever heard the song before, anyway.
“The devil opened up her case and she said, ‘I'll start this show—’” The next part of the song was where things started to get really interesting. Stormy readied herself, giving the tavern her best set of crazy eyes to accompany the sinister fiddle player that followed. “—a band of monsters joined in and it sounded a bit like this.”
“When the devil finished, Stormy said, 'Well, you're far from number one! So sit down in that chair right there and let me show you how it's done.'"
The eyes of the crowd lit up and focused on the violin as the song increased in intensity. Stormy jumped and thudded her hooves against the stage, picking up the pace and sawing hard enough that she felt sweat fly from her brow.
“The Devil bowed her head because she knew that she'd been beat, and she laid that golden fiddle on the ground at Stormy's cleat. Stormy said, 'Devil, just come on back if you ever wanna try again. I done told you hun — you son of a gun — I'm the best that's ever been!' And she played.”
When the song was over, Stormy let the final note sing out across the room and fade slowly. She panted from the effort of playing that fast and dancing at the same time, but it had been worth it. It felt good to play again.
The tavern goers exploded as one into whistles, applause, and a great deal of laughter; she could at least tell it was the good kind of disbelieving laughter that a surprised audience might give.
A few dull thuds pinged around Stormy. After a moment of panic, she saw coins of various metals that shimmered with dull light and covered with years of wear and grime scattered around at her hooves. She realized after a moment that they were meant as a compliment of her skill.
Stormy tried thinking of a way to take the coins without losing her composure as she swept them into a pile. A grinning ooman by the stage tossed a large cloth toward her, stained with beer and food drippings, but serviceable. She thanked him, though she couldn’t even hear her own voice in the din, and rounded up the coins carefully before tucking the little improvised purse under her good wing.
Stormy grinned around the common room at the crowd again and bowed as she backed up. She turned to Kilyra, and noted with satisfaction that her eyes were an even mix of appreciation and curiosity.
“Very well played, Stormy. Very, very well played.” Kilyra commented, seeming to regard Stormy in a new light. “But you’re not playing to your audience. Let me show you how to properly bewitch a tavern full of seamen.”
Stormy’s confidence melted a little as she—reluctantly—passed her violin back to Kilyra. The human woman seemed impressed with what she’d seen, but not in the least bit worried. She took a seat on a stool at the back of the stage as Kilyra had, and waited impatiently—she wanted her violin back and now. Stormy noted with unease that the entire tavern was dead silent before Kilyra even took center stage.
Geez, you’d think these guys were in love with her or something. Stormy stuck out her tongue, grossed out by the way the hooman held their attention so easily. After all, she wasn’t so young that their reaction was lost on her.
Kilyra turned and locked eyes with Stormy as she began adjusting the violin’s fine tuning knobs on the tailpiece, running a few open sweeps to check the sound. She smirked, then again faced the crowd.
Stormy puffed out her cheeks into a pout as she realized Kilyra was doing a musician's equivalent of a taunt: taking her grandfather’s violin out of its rightful traditional GDAE tuning and putting it into a bastardized tuning of FCGD.
How dare she! Stormy pinned her ears back and her feathers ruffled, cheeks puffing further.
“Looks like the sea isn’t the only thing that’s salty today, eh boys?” The tavern full of inebriated sailors saw that Kilyra had done something to upset her strange little challenger, though the true reason why Stormy was upset was lost on them. To the sailors, they only saw Stormy get upset at Kilyra tinkering with the violin. One person at the tavern’s back did let out a guffaw louder than the other’s, though.
Seeming satisfied with the tuning, Kilyra hooked a finger at her top and with a light tug, popped a button free. Stormy watched the act with confusion, and nearly fell off her stool when the crowd cheered and whistled twice as loudly as they had even for her performance.
What the hay did she do? She hasn’t even played anything yet! Stormy kinda got it, but she was confused that oomans got that worked up over a little clothing. Must be because they’re usually clothed… Now that’s just playing dirty. She scowled a little, and started to realize that she might have made a biiit of a mistake making this bet with Kilyra.
The crowd quieted again at Kilyra’s slight gesture.
The silence hung for what almost felt like too long a time, and then… music so beautiful and so alluring as to seem unearthly began to play slowly.
“Cruel and cold, like winds on the sea. Will you ever return to me?” The violin’s song was pristine, but it was Kilyra’s haunting yet beautiful voice that truly stood out. “Hear my voice, sing with the tide. My love will never die…”
Stormy stared open mouthed at how clear and powerful that voice was, just like, she thought, the ocean itself. Her eyes flickered to the crowd, and could see that every single one among them was just as entranced. She almost gasped when she saw Klee Tusk sitting up and awake again, eyes glued to the stage.
“Over waves and deep in the blue, I will give up my heart for you. Ten long years, I'll wait go by. My love will never die.” As Kilyra’s serenade of the drunken lot with her dulcet voice seemed to come to a close, the violin’s music and her song fading, she leapt suddenly into a powerful new verse of the song, her voice rising like a roaring tide.
“Come, my love, be one with the sea! Rule with me, for eternity! Drown all dreams, so mercilessly, and leave their souls to me! Play the song, you sang long ago, and wherever the storm may blow!”
Perhaps it was her imagination, but Stormy had the sudden thought that Kilyra really did seem to be calling to the sailors with her song. Having once heard a recording of a siren in a museum, it sounded familiar to what she currently heard… as if there was some real magic behind it. In fact, it probably was real magic. Everyone in the audience was leaning forward, some even standing and taking a step toward the stage itself.
“You will find, the key to my heart, we'll never be apart! Wild and strong, you can't be contained. Never bound nor ever chained! Wounds you caused will never mend, and you will never end!”
Stormy realized that she too was on the edge of her stool, and unable to change her posture even after becoming aware of it. She almost fell when suddenly the song’s intensity faded to pure silence.
Quiet moments ticked by, until Kilyra finally broke the silence slowly with her voice and violin’s return, and once again the song was a calming ripple of ocean waves against the beach. “Cruel and cold, like winds on the sea. Will you ever return to me? Hear my voice, sing with the tide. Our love will never die…”
Stormy sat, waiting for more, but this time the silence endured, even as Kilyra gave a solemn bow to the crowd. Smirking in victory over the dead silence, Stormy began to rise to collect her violin.
As the seconds passed, however, Stormy realized that it wasn’t silence she heard, but that the crowd of burly ooman sailors and dock workers were sniffling and giving each other hugs and pats on the back. Moments later, coins littered the stage in a generous pile near the front as the sad sailors deposited their coin purses’ contents. Others bought extra pints of their beverage of choice to swallow the memories of lost comrades at sea.
Quickly, Stormy realized that this donation from the crowd was several times larger than the one her performance had been given, and a good deal shinier, too.
“Aw, come on! I played my heart out up there!” Stormy groaned and dragged her hooves down her face in exasperation; it was clear now that she had lost.
With a flair, Kilyra used a few arcane gestures and dropped a small satchel. Coins flipped to their sides and noisily rolled into her bag like a hungry army running to the mess for brinner...
Turning to face Stormy, the crowd forgotten, she said, “Give the patrons a bow and come sit with me, Stormy.”
“Oh, uh, sure.” Crestfallen—yet confused by Kilyra’s change in demeanor from pomp and bragging to serene calm—Stormy complied. She gave a courtesy to the audience before exiting the stage with Kilyra, who led the filly back to sit with Klee tusk.
Klee Tusk stared like a grinning fool at Kilyra, namely, at her chest, but she seemed to either be ignoring him or oblivious and her attention was on Stormy as they took their seats.
“So, what else did you want?” Stormy asked, pouting and stirring a hoof on the table.
Kilyra gave her a bemused look. “Come on, kid, don’t be a sore loser. Besides, my opinion of you is high enough at the moment that I’ve got a proposition you just might be interested in.”
Stormy looked up at her for a moment at hearing that. “What do you mean? Like, you’ll still give me back my violin?”
Kilyra smiled wolfishly. “Yes… but I want something in return, too. Can you guess what that is?”
“Uhh…” Stormy stared at the table in thought, but she couldn’t think of anything. “I don’t own a thing in the world right now except what Merlos has given me, soooo…” she trailed off, shrugging at Kilyra.
“I’m at a stage in life where it’s a good idea to start thinking about passing on my skills as a bard, Stormy,” Kilyra intoned wistfully, hailing a tavern girl for a mug of ale at the same time. “Not that I’m old, mind you, but you’re talented enough, interesting enough of a person for my liking, and judging by the company you keep—” she gave a wry look to the half-orc, still grinning at her, “—I’m assuming you’re likely to adventure some yourself. Even if you don’t, you could pass on the knowledge to another, one day, too. So, interested in being my apprentice?” She gave a little, knowing smile and waggled Stormy’s violin in the air for effect.
“Oh, wow.” Stormy was taken aback. She thinks I’m good? She couldn’t keep a silly grin from splitting her face from the praise. And she wants to train me and give me my violin back at the same time? It sounded too good to be true. Realizing that, she adopted a weary look.
“No catch?” Stormy asked carefully. “I just get the violin and you train me in… bard stuff?”
Kilyra nodded. “In so many words, yes. Your training will be to my satisfaction, you’ll do as I say when I say it in so far as apprenticing is concerned, oh, and of course you’ll have to either leave your current group or…” She gave a doubtful look Klee Tusk’s way. “I suppose I could join you. You aren’t in the middle of anything are you?”
“We just finished with our last errand, so no…” Stormy thought on that somewhat, but her eyes lit up after remembering what Merlos had said about finding more people in order to make money from questing. “For that matter, Merlos wanted to recruit in the city so we could take on some high paying jobs, too. Hey, this is way too perfect!” She remembered just how skillfully Kilyra put those brutish hoomans in their place.
“Well then, perhaps this is fate?” Kilyra smirked. “So, do we have a deal?” she probed on, leaning forward with a grin.
Without another thought beyond her last, Stormy stuck out her hoof, grinning. “Deal!” Kilyra gave her hoof a surprised look, then grinned and shook it twice.
“Fantastic! I’ve always had a great intuition where people are concerned, and I can tell that we’re going to get along great, Stormy.” Kilyra produced a violin case as she spoke, gently placing Stormy's property within before just as carefully handing it out to her.
“Yeah, I’ve got the same feeling, too.” Smiling, Stormy cradled her violin case against herself. “And Merlos is gonna be happy, too! Well…” She thought on that, looking up at the ceiling and picturing what Merlos’ actual reaction would be based on what she knew of him. “Actually, he’ll be mad at me for a while and say that me letting you into the group was ‘rash’, but he’s a stuck up old guy that just likes to complain needlessly about stuff when it wasn’t his decision even if it was a good one and he gets over it eventually, soooo, what evs!”
Kiylra broke out into laughter. “Oh, yes, you’ll make a wonderful bard, Stormy.” She downed her mug, then hailed the waitress again, this time ordering food, both for her and the others after Stormy said she was starving.
Still chuckling, Kilyra’s mood was only slightly dampened by some unneeded attention that she’d been doing her best to ignore since sitting. “Hey, the face is up here, tall, green, and ugly. Weren’t you ever taught it’s rude to stare?” Kilyra waved a hand between herself and the drunken half-orc, who had been swaying erratically the entire time, but somehow always managed to keep his eyes affixed to her chest.
The half orc continued to stare, eyes stark and unblinking in his skull as a statue’s. “Klee Tusk think: if he rude right now, then he never want to—hic—be polite again.”
Already bored with the argument brewing, Stormy’s eyes drifted around the bar. The jerk bartender was far too busy to fuss with her presence now that he was sending literal barrels of ale and beer into the Bad Drag-inn’s common room. She stroked her violin case absently, still in disbelief that she’d regained her property. After all she’d been through, it was like being given a hundred birthday presents all at once. Even better than that, it filled her with hope.
A rectangle of light caught Stormy’s attention as the front door banged open, and a raucous trio of short oomans all came in, laughing heartily over a story being regaled by one walking backwards in the lead.
The fat older one gestured to the other dwarves in his wake, whom Stormy recognized as Ges and Knott. “And then she said, I’d buy that for a dollar!”
The three laughed heartily, breaking up into two groups as the lead dwarf left for the counter to order what seemed to be six whole mugs of frothy brew just for himself.
The other two dwarves, who turned out to be Ges and Knott. The two quickly made their way to Stormy’s table the moment the other fellow’s back was turned, slightly huddled as if to avoid being seen.
Ges shook his head, and Knott grumbled, “Thank goodness he’s gone.”
Ges replied, “Yeah, I thought he’d never leave. Quick, shove the excess chairs away just in case, so he won't sit with us.”
The brothers pushed the spare chairs away from the table before piling around Stormy and Kilyra. Several standing patrons helped themselves to the offered chairs.
“Oi, and who’s this you’re sitting with, Stormy?” Knott asked, leaning back and nodding in a welcoming manner to Kilyra, who nodded back and offered a friendly smile.
“A new friend!” Stormy cheered amidst a mouthful of food.
Knott offered a gauntleted hand to Kilyra. “Aye, lass! Yer th’ one on th’ poster outside? Kill-loyrah Biscuit-ray.”
“That’s me, although it’s pronounced ‘Key-lie-rah Bis-klav-ray.’” Kilyra corrected, slowing her name down for his sake. She took his hand and shook it heartily.
“Aye, tha’s what I said,” Knott affirmed matter of factly.
Kilyra questioningly raised an eyebrow, not sure if he was playing a jest.
“Are ye’ sure yer name’s not beautiful?” Ges cut in, leaning over the table toward her as he poured on the charm. Knott rolled his eyes as his brother spoke, choosing to hail a bar-maid as a distraction.
Kilyra’s momentary shock over the flirtation coming from the dwarf lasted only a split second, but that split second was long enough for Stormy to interrupt.
Stormy chimed in, “I’ve been called that a few times before, but I guess it doesn’t count if it’s my mom that said it.”
Not one to begrudge the young on unintentionally taking the wind out of his proverbial sails, Ges leaned over to scruffle Stormy’s ears and cheerfully said, “Och! Lass, yer the cutest thing in this city. Rest assured.”
Stormy couldn’t help but flush from his praise. Her muzzle feeling hot and blushy.
Kilyra, with a single finger brushing under his chin, brought Ges’ attention back to her as she soothingly said, “I know this accent. An Ironkeep dwarf, this far from home? My my, and I thought I had ventured far.”
Ges sputtered a few grunty sounds as he failed his speech check with her.
Knott chortled, shaking his head ad coming to his brother’s rescue. “Good ear... but I’m afraid the Ir’nkeep are a mount’n o’er frommus. Their thunder ale’s a good brew, but it’s not a scratch on the ale of the Stonekeep dwarves!”
Kilyra gave a polite nod, intoning slightly an apology over her mistake.
Stormy broke in. “Wait, so are all dwarf clans named after metals and gems? Like, are there Brasskeep dwarves? Or Diamondkeep dwarves?”
Knott blustered and coughed, while Ges and Kilyra chuckled.
“It’s true, dwarven naming conventions are far too one note.” Ges shrugged. “I’m no historian, but if I had to guess the clans likely named themselves after what they mined fer.”
Stormy hummed, eyes shut. “Ohhh, I get it. So the Stonekeep dwarves are like rock farmers.”
The other three—ignoring Klee Tusk, who had long been snoring away on the table again—stared blankly at Stormy, before bursting out into laughter.
“”Rock farming, that’s a new one!” Ges guffawed, slapping his brother on the back as they both doubled over.
Kilyra laughed over the brim of her ale, shaking her head, while a confused Stormy airplaned her ears and pondered why everyone reacted in such a way. She chuckled along a little just to seem like she too understood.
A barmaid cleared their table of empty mugs and replaced them with metal stouts, pouring from a pitcher of frothy brown liquid. Stormy decided to pass on what this place had to offer, mainly because nothing sounded good or it made her nostrils burn when she stole a whiff of the beverage.
“And what brings you to our company, Kilyra?” Ges said offhandedly, still somewhat giving her his best ‘look’.
Stormy broke in again, waving a hoof in the air frantically. “Oh, oh oh oh! I know!” She cleared her throat, then with a proud look dramatically declared. “Kilyra’s gonna teach me how to be a bard! Oh, and adventure with us all! This is gonna be great. Me, Merlos, Klee Tusk, you and Ges, and Kilyra! Oh, and that other guy… uh, Captain Tool?”
The table was silent except for Klee Tusk’s snores.
Ges coughed. “For one, Tusk and Thull aren’t the adventurin’ sort. They’ve got a business to run.”
Stormy awed aloud.
Knott continued for his brother. “Two, I’ll be headed back north to the tower, meself.” He nudged Ges with an elbow. “Although I think Ges ‘ere were worried about you enough to consider stayin’ behind.”
“Whoo,” Stormy cheered, smiling a little.
Kilyra rolled her eyes.
“And three…” Ges went on, “Isn’t Merlos already teaching ye’?” He scratched a hand through his scraggly beard, adopting a concerned look.
Stormy tilted her head. “Yeah, but why can’t I learn from them both?”
Ges and Knott shared a look, then each made a face as if they knew what was coming next and dreaded it. “Whelp, it’s been a long day, so I think I’ll turn in,” Knott said, chuckling slightly.
“Oh, you’re going to make me play referee?” Ges turned in his seat. “Some paladin you are.”
Stormy didn’t get it. “Turn in? It’s still light out.”
“Am I missing something here?” Kilyra asked plainly.
Knott had already scraped his chair back, waving a hand and cheerfully taking his leave without replying.
Stormy looked over as the Inn’s door opened, the light outside eventually turned from bright to a dimming orange color when finally a familiar grumpy wizard’s figure stepped inside.
Merlos grumbled, looking this way and that, until finally he spied the little pegasus making eye contact with him. “Ah, there you all are.” He wasted no time before taking notice of their new companion, whom he gave a scrutinizing eye. “I am Merlos, Merlos the Magnificent, fair lady. And you are?”
Merlos with a gesture to an unused high back chair, a spell animated the thing to gallop over to their table, giving him something to seat himself comfortably in. The chair scooted him in close before suddenly going inert. He wore a proud, yet none too humble expression as he got settled.
Ges chuckled, wise to the old man’s showing off for the lady.
Cheerfully, Kilyra extended a hand to the tall, wizardly looking man before her. “Kilyra Bisclavret, at your service! Musician, performer, poet, duelist, bard, and your newest teammate.” She gave a nod and a smile to Stormy. “I met Stormy a little bit ago and she—”
Interrupting, Merlos held up a hand to stop her. He turned to Ges. “How bad is it?” he asked.
Ges shrugged, grinning ruefully.
“You know, it’s awfully rude to interrupt someone. Is that your group’s calling card, being rude?” Kilyra nodded to Klee Tusk, who snorted, as if aware he was being mentioned.
Merlos sighed. “I apologize, Ms… Bisclavret, as this is a recurring theme with my ward, Stormy, here. I’m not sure what’s transpired between you and my companions, but you may be rest assured that any agreements or plans made thus far by them are not binding. I have very specific parameters planned for our foray into the adventuring trade, and they’re not subject to change.”
Stormy coughed, stirring a hoof on the table. “Yeahhh, about that, Merlos. You’ll hafta make new parag- uh, pamma… pantameters. See, she had my grandpa’s violin—which is super important to me by the way—and I’ll hate you if you make me give it back. So, to get it from her I challenged her in a musical duel, and lost, but only barely! She said I could still have it if I let her teach me to be a bard because appaaaarently I’m really awesome and stuff, too… Sooo, she’s gotta join our group…” she wilted under Merlos’ stoney gaze, but managed a weak grin.
Merlos had clearly arrived just in time for this conversation. He shook his head. “I’m sorry Ms. Bisclavret, but she’s already learning as my apprentice in the study of magics and the arcane for the time being. I don’t quite understand it, but her race seems to possess outstanding natural magical potential. Other endeavors… would simply be a waste of her time. Perhaps we could come to an agreement over the violin’s price?”
Kilyra shrugged. “Maybe. Got ten thousand gold on you? I enchanted the hell out of it.”
Merlos’ eyes bulged, and he spit out some of his ale. He turned to glare at the now guiltily grinning Stormy.
Kilyra went on. “I didn’t think so. Look, she does need magical training, but her talent is clearly aligned with something other than keeping her nose stuck in moldy tomes. She has the heart and spirit of a bard.”
“My tomes are not moldy.” Merlos bristled, drawing himself to look bigger like a cat would, and clearly getting serious. “And Stormy, here, can read arcane markings with no prior training. Something that takes most acolytes years to master! She’s a natural! She has the makings of a great wizard, and I will not allow her to fall from that path to become some lowly bard! Besides, she’s in my care.”
“Whoa, overbearing there, much, dad?” Kilyra chuckled at Merlos’ sputtering in reply. “Come on, she doesn’t need to waste her time being a boring nerd with nerd magic.” She waved a dismissive hand.
Merlos growled. “You may adventure with us, and teach her some of your… trade, but Stormy is my apprentice, and will be a wizard. I can already sense that she’s on the brink of her first successful spell.”
“That’s nice, but it’s going to be a Bardic spell.” Kilyra said back her eyes locking in with Merlos’. “Her talent is immense and she could easily become a legendary teller of tales and singer of songs. There are people that would sell their soul to have as much talent as she does at forty years of training, let alone as a kid!” She took a sip from her tankard, not letting the bottom break her glare at the wizard’s eyes.
“Poppycock!” Merlos shouted. “Stormy will contribute a million times more to society and the world at large as a properly educated student of the arcane! She would do well to learn all that she can and return home with it to her people!”
Kilyra guffawed, slamming her tankard on the table, and clearing sloshing it with intent to hit Merlos. “Her people will be far more grateful to hear a good few songs, even just one, than the ramblings of a mad man!”
Merlos mouthed the word mad, and Ges made as if to duck beneath table. “She’ll be a Wizard!” he roared. Merlos’ arcane talents may have still been in manifest with the chair, as the furniture supporting him managed to look uncomfortable.
“Bard!” Kilyra shot back, not backing down.
“Wizard!” Merlos said again, standing with fists clenched.
“Bard!” Kilyra stood and slammed a hoof down on the table.
“W—” Merlos looked in shock at where a boot—or at least a foot—would be on any other woman, but his momentary pause lasted but a second. “Wizard!”
“She’d make a fine druid, too, I reckon,” Ges chuckled out, but as funny as he found the interjection he had kept it quiet enough to escape the others’ notice.
“Wizard!” Kilyra shouted, smirking. The argument was now drawing eyes from other tables.
“Bar— Confound you, she will be a Wizard!” Merlos bellowed back, standing up and scraping his chair out.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” Stormy asked worriedly, looking between her mentors.
Merlos and Kilyra together looked her way, and they yelled at her in unison, “No!”
With their attention turned back to each other. Merlos and Kilyra resumed arguing like a married couple. There were some cheers and hoots from the crowded tavern now, and the bouncers had clearly taken notice, watching warily from close by.
Stormy, for her part, however, had seen enough.
Deciding to see what was still open outside, Stormy looked to Ges and gestured to the door, to which he nodded.
Amazingly, it was far quieter outside in the bustling street than it was back inside the tavern with Merlos and Kilyra. Early evening time in Halia now painted everything in a golden red-orange glow, and while some of the vendors were already packed up with their tables, many still lined the streets and called to the crowd just as eagerly as earlier.
Halia had an air of familiarity to it for Stormy. It reminded her of Canterlot in many ways.
Even the rowdy docks had a bit of posh city pride to them, sporting street signs made from semi-precious metals that were magically set into poles. Likely they were for the carriage and cart drivers who would quickly vacate the docks for the better districts.
“So, Stormy, is there anything you’d like to get?” Ges glanced down at her winnings. “That’s a tidy little sum you have there, after all.”
“Weeell, I just ate… but I could eat again.” Stormy licked her lips as she surveyed the stalls closely, until finally they came upon a vendor selling some fruits and veggies. Ges gave Stormy a nudge for her attention, and she looked over.
“Finally, food! Real food.” Ges struggled to keep up as Stormy tore through the crowd
“Excuse me? I'd like to buy some food from you?” Stormy asked, putting on her best manners, and hoping Merlos’ spell won’t run out any time soon.
At first the vendor looked around, confused who said this before looking at Stormy.
“Is this a prank?”
Ges caught up and the Vendor rolled his eyes. “And a Druid...Haha very funny, Let me guess, you’re hungry as a horse?”
“I am! Wow, are you a mind reader?”
“This joke is so old,” he flatly replied. His expression bordering on falling asleep on his feet from irritation.
“Joke?” Stormy shook her head. “I’m just hungry. I have some money. Please?” She fished some coins from the satchel to show seriousness. The coin she nabbed was copper, and very different from the bits she was familiar with back in Equestria.
Stamped on one face was an armored clad human holding an obscenely large warhammer held it in one hand over his head in victory. The inscription surrounding it reading, “In Hoots we trust!”. On the reverse side was stamped an old ooman sitting on a throne. The minting year and the phrase, “In memoriam of King Hadley the VIIIth.”
The vendor scrutinized the coin, before finally acquiescing. After a moment of transaction and the vendor sharing that he would give her a good deal for a bulk buy, Stormy was 10 silver lighter and 2 overloaded saddlebags FULL of fruits and veggies. As soon as their transaction was done, she was munching on a carrot as she walked, eager to observe more of what the oomans had to offer.
Stormy's ears tickled from squeaks scurrying by. She turned to see strange little shapes that had the faces of rats of all things. They carried long poles six times their height, scurrying around and lighting the street lamps of the darkening city.
They were about Stormy’s height and had vestments suited for cold and damp places on, a curved wooden pole with a glowing bucket at its end seemed to be their tool of choice to light the street lamps.
“Quickly! We are falling behind schedule!” a ratfolk’s high pitched voice called out.
“On it, boss!” another called back across the street.
Roaming down a street, which was far enough into the city now to sport cobblestones and dirt rather than noisy wooden planks, Stormy took a look around. She made sure she wasn't too far from The Bad Drag-Inn as she looked into windows and perused the types of shops in the area. She munched on a carrot while looking, slowly eating away stem and all until it disappeared into her muzzle.
“Stormy?” Ges called, a ways back still after stopping to look at a bowyer’s selection.
Stormy turned to answer him, but stopped after she felt a strange, faint, yet familiar tingle. It was very familiar, and unmistakable: it was the same sort of sensation she felt whenever she flew back in Equestria.
Is that—? No… am I really that lucky? That's Equestrian magic!
Galloping towards the source, Stormy found a pawn shop a couple more streets over in an alleyway. What she assumed was the owner was fiercely sweeping dirt out of his shop. Stormy invited herself inside, despite the ooman’s protests that he was closed, and honed in on her prize. It didn’t take very long to find it in a bin marked discount, along with several other torn and dilapidated bags. A pictogram of two copper coins, which she was familiar with already, gave her some clue to its price.
Stormy picked up her wing bag, grinning with joy. It was still sturdy and only a little dirty since she last looked at it. Most of her stuff inside it was long gone, probably distributed across the land, but sewn into the top part was the most valuable part of the bag. The one thing she’d trade all her money for! Other than her grandpa’s violin, that is.
Stormy grinned and took it to the store owner, the NAVBALL inside it pulling at her flight magic to sustain itself. It made her feel a little tired with how much and how strong the pull was. It must have not been charged in a while. The little gadget was what all pegasus in modern Equestria used to guide themselves effortlessly over long distances, among many other handy little features.
“I'd like to buy this.” Stormy said, knowing she had plenty of coins like the ones on the table in the napkin still.
The pawnshop owner rubbed his beard a moment, its scratchy sounds dragging the moment a bit further. “Alright,“ he began, “four coppers. No fey money.”
“What? But it’s marked for two!” Stormy protested.
“And I’m closed. Don’t like it? Take a hike.” The owner set his broom in the corner and crossed his arms.
Stormy grumbled, but fished out the coins. In truth she’d have paid far more, but thankfully the storekeeper seemed too angry to pick up on her desire for her property back.
“Honestly, I was wondering if anyone would buy that useless thing.”
Stormy’s grin widened. “Useless? It is not!” she scoffed. “What did you think it was for?”
“Noone could really wear it. It’s a bit small for the average person, too… Not to mention heavy.” The shopkeeper replied, watching her try to put the bag on.
Stormy fussed with the buckles and straps, sizing it better for herself a bit. Shrugging it on proved difficult, as her broken wing was getting in the way of donning it. “Could you help me with this? My, uh, wing isn’t wanting to work with me.”
The two adjusted and fitted the straps and harness around her wing. With it on her back, Stormy could feel the NAVBALL right where it was supposed to be. She nickered contentedly.
“Never figured it’d be good for quadrupeds. Huh.”
“It’s a wing-bag,” Stormy replied. “Which is a sling style saddlebag that works with a pegasus or a gryphon. It lets us wear a normal saddle bag and keep our wings free and clear.” She wagged her wing—one was still in a sling—a bit to emphasize the amount of freedom she had, taking a moment to fine tune how it strapped to her frame. She took a moment to demonstrate, wearing it like a sling bag that she could slide it around her body from her back. “It makes life easier, but yeah, this one’s pretty heavy. It’s made for an adult mare.”
It was a little bit big for her, but her parents always insisted on buying things a bit big for her to let her grow into them.
Stormy nickered and quickly left the store. She put some fruit and veggies into the wing-bag and ate another carrot as she traveled along. The street was completely empty, she noticed, but it was a smaller side avenue so that made some sense.
With a few more steps, Stormy noticed a short stocky dwarf standing in an alley off to the side.
“Eheh, hey Ges! Sorry about running off like that. I sensed something important to me nearby and kind of took off after it.” Stormy trotted up to him, offering an orange to him. “Apology fruit?”
Ges kept his back to her.
“Ges? Are you mad?” Stormy put her ears back. “I promise I won’t run off again. Uh, can we head back, too? It’s getting dark.”
Ges still didn’t answer, and this prompted Stormy to trot around to his front. “Ges?” She gasped.
Ges’ eyes were blank, the whites showing and his pupils rolled up into the back of his head, but he stood upright with his back rigid in spite of this.
A familiar, laughing caw answered her from deeper within the alley.
Whirling around she laid eyes upon the foul visage of a beady red eyed crow. “Tiki!” Stormy cried, shocked. “What did you do to him!?” She fumed, stamping a hoof threateningly.
“Worry about yourself!” Tiki laughed. “Now, watch as you’re about to be thrown into a Hell the likes of which are beyond even your worst nightmares!”
Stormy groaned, grimacing, but more from the corniness of the talking bird’s taunt than any intimidation. She felt something wobble under her stamped hoof.
Meanwhile, Tiki twirled once, and what looked to be gross wet red yarn strings sprang out from underneath his black feathers. The bird’s form grew until he burst from his plumage as he twisted this way and that, until finally he had transformed into a small, emaciated humanoid shape.
Part-way through his transformation, Tiki was struck in the head with a rock.
“Gah!” Tiki rubbed at his head, a lump forming underneath his wing as it transformed into a gnarled and spiked hand. “I’m not finished yet, you fool!”
“Never wait for the monster to finish transforming!” Stormy cried back, and bucked another rock right at Tiki’s head. “Haven’t you ever watched cartoons!?”
Ready for it this time, Tiki dodged easily. “You’ll regret that…” he hissed as long curled red horns erupted from the top of its head and a lizard-like tail coiled out from behind him. Rubbery bright red skin stretched taught over his bony body as a skull like face with a mouth full of triangular shark like teeth grinned back at Stormy. Thick globules of oozing drool dripped from his lipless face and onto the ground in an ominous sizzle.
“There! Now do you fear me, horse creature!? Stare unto your doom! Stare at the face of death itself! Despair! Fear me!” Tiki cackled and arched his back in triumph.
Stormy tilted her head, sizing up the crazed little red creature that came up maybe half of her leg. “Dude, you are so tiny. I think you got smaller. What the heck are you? A weird red monkey-thing?” She’d seen mutants and stuff in her superhero comics, but this little monster was like something out of a horror movie, and she wasn’t really even allowed to watch those yet.
“S-Silence!” Tiki jabbed a little finger up at her, being less than half her height. “And I’m a devil! An imp, to be precise! Are the horns and red skin not enough of a clue, you bird-brained horse?”
“Whatever! Devil-smevvel.” Stormy rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to be rude about it and insult me then I don’t want an explanation!”
“Shutup, I said! Shutup!” Tiki’s eye twitched.
“Fine! If you’ll do the same. You are actually painful to listen to.” When Tiki spoke, it was unnaturally shrill and painful. Autistic screeching at its worst, Stormy thought in anguish.
Tiki hissed. “Enough quips. It’s time to stop playing games, little pony. Come back to the castle with me! Fulfill your destiny, give us your heart, and surrender your innocence. You belong to us! We need you alive for the ceremony so if you behave, I’ll ensure you make it there unharmed… mostly.” He cackled.
“Oh my gosh, that’s so cliche!” Stormy retorted, and stamped again. “I’m not doing any of that, so you might as well let my friend go, o-or—! Or else!”
“My patience is at its end, and still you dare to oppose me!?” The imp hissed again, like a cat with rabies, and scratched its clawed hands over its body with a noisy skitch skitch sound.
“Uh, yeah? You’re like one eighth my size. I really hope for your sake that isn’t your final form.” Stormy could see little capillaries throbbing in Tiki’s wings a moment before they darkened into a matching bright red wet rubbery appearance. A moment later, and he sprang into the air, somersaulting backwards onto an open, iron strapped gate in the alley.
“Then suffer!” he spit.
“AH!” Stormy had a split second to react as the imp surged forward, darting through the air at her. “I declare dodge on you!” she shouted, and ducked reflexively, hitting the cobblestone ground hard and covering herself with bruises.
“Insolent whelp! You are unarmed, wounded, your friend is in my thrall, and now I have cut off your escape! Surrender and co-op—”
A cobblestone, loosened from her stamping in the road, whumped at the creature’s side.
“Ow! Why you little—” Tiki barely dodged an apple, bucked from the air, before he could finish. “RAH! No more games! No more mercy!” He screeched. With his little red claws, he grabbed a nearby wooden lid leaning against a wall and frisbee threw it at Stormy, who was barely able to dodge it. The lid struck Ges, instead, who merely groaned when it bounced off his face.
Stormy winced. “Sorry, Ges!” Then whirled about and snorted, squaring off against Tiki.
“Fool, you would fight me? ME!?” Tiki charged forward again.
Ready this time, Stormy reared back, then swatted him from the air with a front hoof.
Tiki slammed into the wall, then landed on the ground with a sickly, squishy plop sound.
Stormy winced, again. “Ohhh, dude, are you okay?”
Tiki coughed. “Wobbling as he stood up. “You— you curr!” He whirled about, razor sharp teeth bared in a snarl. “I will flay you alive for that!”
Stormy gasped. “That’s evil!” She then blinked. “Wait, wait, what’s ‘flay’ mean?”
“IT MEANS I’LL RIP OFF YOUR SKIN!”
“Ohhh, gotcha… Yeah, that’s evil.”
“FOOL!” Tiki’s eyes pulsed with a red light, bulging in anger from his face. “I’ll cut off your wings and drag you back if I have to!” he screamed, and a glowing, flaming orb formed in either of his hands.
Stormy gulped. Oh, dear Celestia, time to run! She turned and ran away from Tiki down the clutter filled alley in order to buy time. She couldn’t just escape—Ges was held captive—but maybe remembering some of the training that she’d had could help. Her biggest advantage, flying, was out for sure because she could barely glide, and to be honest, between the massive workout she’d had on the barge and her injury, it wouldn’t even be much of a glide. She couldn’t even hurl more things at him as long as she was running, either.
“Get back here!” Tiki screeched.
Ducking under a sawhorse and around some rickety cylinder shaped trash cans, she ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. The imp was in hot pursuit, knocking the cans and sawhorse over with little effort.
A splash of orange appeared at the corner of Stormy’s eye, and a little ball of fire shrieked past her to burn into the wooden fence at the alley’s end. “Yikes!”
“Yes! Scream! Feel fear! Run! Ahaha-hee!”
“Ges, It would be great if you could wake up now! Come on!” Stormy galloped on, using her good wing to pull things behind her as the little monster chased her through it. “Fight it!” A trashcan here, a pile of strange items there. Any debris to make it harder for Tiki to either grab her or burn her with a fireball. She tried to wait until he got close enough for her to buck him into next week, but the clever monster kept just enough distance of his own. “Please, Ges!”
“Fool, that won’t work! Nothing can break my spell!”
Stormy felt her ribs burning as she pushed herself on. It dawned on her that trying to wear the little red monster wouldn’t work, either. The end of the alley was close, though, and if she could just reach the end with Tiki in pursuit, maybe she could find help from a person, or better yet, a guard.
“Enough of this! Run away if you want,” Tiki said, almost music to Stormy’s ears, but she whirled around to find the imp soaring back to Ges. “But now your friend dies!”
“No!” Stormy screeched to a halt, hesitating. She looked to the alley entrance, just strides away, then back to Ges. Fear panged and welled up in her. What do I do? What do I do? She made a decision.
“Wait! I give up! Just don’t hurt him!” Stormy ran back down the alley, desperate to save her friend.
Tiki looked up, a sharp talon now held up to Ges’ neck. “Good. I see you have brains enough to see reason, after all.” With his off hand, he clicked his talons together, one of which had a small, brass ring on it. A second later and a small, oval portal the size of a dog opened beside him, it’s sinister red glow bathing the entire alleyway in an eerie light. “You will walk through this portal, horse creature, and then I will... release your friend.” He somehow managed to sneer at her, grin, and laugh all at the same time.
Stormy winced, tears forming in her eyes. As she got closer, she looked around for anything, anything at all that could help her.
There was nothing, though.
She couldn’t fly, only had one good wing, and she couldn’t outrun Tiki, so getting close enough to pummel him or escape just wasn’t happening.
Still panting from the fruitless chase, Stormy drew closer, crossing the alleyway to the imp, no longer able to buy any time for Ges or distract the devil any further.
“Alright—” Stormy began, “You win… just don’t hurt my friend.”
Tiki cackle-shrieked in victory. “But of course I win! I am the sinister and horrible devil, Tiki!”
“Oh yes, you’re horrible alright.” Stormy tried to fight the urge to roll her eyes, not wanting to anger Tiki enough to hurt Ges, but she failed. Her failure, however, became a stroke of luck. Looking up, she saw an old banner on a balcony with a few flower pots resting around it.
An idea clicked into place in her head. A scene from a Daring Doo movie where she pulled a tapestry over a pursuing mercenary guard’s head to blind him, and with a right hook sent him to the ground. It’s got to work!
Tiki gave her a fang-toothed sneer. “Soon you won’t be so smart-mouthed, and after we’re through dealing with you and this pathetic mortal plane, your own will be next!”
Stormy was only partly paying attention. Gotta play it cool, she told herself, focusing on her plan rather than Tiki’s bragging.
“Right, so, uh— what does Wadsbreath want me for again?” Stormy smirked, approaching the portal at almost a snail’s pace. “A song and dance? A scrabble competition?
Tiki’s eyes narrowed. “No, you will merely lay down on a ceremonial stone table and be still like a good beast, and we will take care of the rest. Now cross the portal’s threshold or your friend dies now!”
“Okie dokie!” Once Stormy was under the banner, and nice and close to Tiki, she saluted up with her good wing, swiping at the devil.
Tiki screeched and laughed at her in a crow like caw as he dodged back, “You missed me, now your friend will die!”
Stormy looked up, and gasped.
The intended effect she had wanted, to dislodge the banner and cover Tiki with it, them stamp and buck at him just like the heroine in the movie, hadn’t quite happened. Instead, several of the flowerpots weighing it down had been dislodged by the banner being blown off the balcony.
With a loud kersmash, one of the flowerpots made its new home over Tiki’s head, and splatted him into the pavement from Ges’ shoulder. Another one crashed on Ges’ head, but other than a grumble of discomfort, he didn’t seem phased by it.
The portal winked out of existence, leaving the alleyway darkened once more.
“I-I can’t believe that worked! Wow, it was just like in Daring Do in Raiders of the Lost Bark!”
Stormy trotted up to Tiki, ready to attack if he moved or got up to attack her again. “Oooohhh, that is going to hurt. Uh oh.” She gasped again, watching the flower pot a moment as black ooze began to seep out from underneath.
Stormy cringed, part of her iced inside at the sudden realization that she had, in part, murdered the troublesome Tiki. All of that was quickly overwhelmed by not only it being in self-defense, but also how cool it had turned out.
“Well, I had to deal with your shit for months back in that cage, Tiki… and you were really mean to me, and I really don’t miss you... and you probably deserved to die… I think I was going somewhere with this, but I don’t remember where, so, uh, good riddance?”
“Wha-hah? W-Where am I?” Ges mumbled, his eyes rolling back to normal. “Why does my head feel like mother just hit it with a frying pan? Twice?”
“Ges!” Stormy whirled around, tears reforming in her eyes immediately. “You’re alright! Uh, relatively!”
“Stormy? What happened?” Ges rubbed one hand on his eye, which had turned black with a bruise, and another hand on his scalp, which seemed to not be forming a bruise at all despite having taken a harder hit. He looked down, and his eyes widened at the ugly little corpse at his feet.
“Is that— Is that a fiend!?” Ges gasped. His shocked look passed between it and Stormy repeatedly. “Did you defeat this foul creature, Stormy?”
Stormy puffed up her chest in pride. “I don’t know what he is, but yup! I beat him, alright!”
“Stormy Weather the pegasus!” a familiar voice boomed.
Stormy cringed and huddled down reflexively despite being in the middle of her victorious revery. “It wasn’t me! It’s Ges’ fault! I never even knew there was a jar of peanut butter!”
Merlos loomed over the entrance to the alleyway, glaring down at Stormy, Kilyra standing at his side with a bow half drawn. “Oh Ges, you were with her after all. Perhaps my frustration is mispla— What is that?” He walked up to the little shape laying on the darkened cobblestone and gave it a kick. “Is that an imp!?”
Stormy sat up and raised her hooves. “Ok, wait, is Tiki a crow, an imp, a devil, or a fiend? Because if he’s all of those things, I’m calling shenanigans! Pistol whip me if you must!”
Merlos and Kilyra shared confused looks with Ges.
“What do you mean that thing’s Tiki?” Merlos questioned, suspicion in his voice. “You mean to say that—”
Stormy broke in. “Oh yeah, you never believed me! Hah! Proof! Little red unmoving proof!” She poked the body with a hoof, then regretted it when it squished. Black ichor stretched out from the decaying Tiki to her hoof in a long, gooey black strand. “Ew… this had better not stain…”
Without warning, Tiki’s form leaped up, lunging for Stormy’s throat. “I shall have my revenge!” it screeched.
The attack failed to connect as an arrow pierced Tiki’s skull, exiting through the back and embedding itself in a building wall.
Kilyra smirked, shouldering her bow. “Killsteal!” she chirped, laughing at the bug-eyed stares from Merlos, Ges, and most of all, Stormy. “What?”
Stormy screamed, while Merlos yelled, “You almost hit my apprentice!”
“Oh come on, he wasn’t that close to her head.” Kilyra waved a hand dismissively. “And I think you mean my apprentice.”
“Oh don’t start that again, you two,” Ges growled.
A loud thump drew the humanoid’s attention, and upon looking down, they saw what the source was.
Stormy had fainted.