Sorrow's Fen was the lowest part of the lowlands. Runoff from the bogs on the other side of Savage Ridge poured down into the fen, and a great and mighty river from the north reached for the fen with hundreds of slender fingers. There was a sort of delta here, and so many farms that Sundance could not hope to keep count. The waterways were used to move goods, very much like the canals in Fillydelphia, and from way up on high he could see ponies pulling barges. Looking down on all of it, Sundance reached but one conclusion: this was the perfect hunting ground for a clever ogre.
It was a cold swamp; one that did not bubble or boil. But hot water poured down in steaming waterfalls that flowed around the toothlike protrusions of rock that was the ridge. To Sundance, it appeared very much like a slavering maw, but without the upper part of the head. This land was fertile. The black soil the highlands of his barony were known for could be seen down here in the lowlands. This was a rich place. Not rich with money, but rich with soil and promise. It was something that would need to be secured as soon as possible—and more so now than previously, he understood why Megara brought him out this way.
"There's so many," he said as he drifted, held aloft by hot updrafts.
"More than I thought," Megara replied. "It's been a while since I was last out this way."
"I've known about this for quite some time. Used to hunt here."
"And you didn't tell me, River?" Sundance dared to ask.
"You didn't ask," she replied. "And you didn't seem interested."
He started to say something, but swallowed his angry retort.
"Be angry if you want, but you've been focused on what you have and your holdings to the south. Overwhelmed by all of it, even. You've shown no interest at all in your northern holdings. It does not occupy your thoughts."
"You're right," Sundance admitted.
"I know I am. I wouldn't've said it otherwise. You tend to have a very narrow focus. Which seems contradictory for a pegasus."
"Do I really?" he asked.
"You do," she replied.
"Well, thank you for telling me. I'll take this into consideration in the future."
"I'm being quite rude about it… you could shout at me, you know. At least push back a little. Show some aggression. But no… just more of your disgusting goodness on display for all to see. It's nauseating."
A harsh silence followed, and no one said anything. An itch inside of Sundance's brain told him that there were thoughts though, though he had no idea what they might be, or if they were good or bad. He studied the land below, but was distracted. River Raider had called him out on poor leadership—and while he was a bit put off about it—he couldn't tell her that she was wrong. She'd done him a favour, really. Told him the harsh truth. His thoughts turned to Argyle, and what he'd said about a leader being responsible for things when they happened.
An ogre had happened, and Sundance was responsible.
Just as Argyle was responsible for the goings on in Beantown. The distance didn't matter, nor did the secretive malice of the asylum. Sundance found himself at a loss for what to think of himself at this moment. His lands were far too large for him to effectively patrol—so there would be losses. There was very little he could do for the foreseeable future, except for listen to what Megara had to say and learn from her. These ponies deserved better, and Sundance knew that he was obligated.
"It's hard for you to take all of this on," River Raider said, her tone considerably softer. "You barely even understand what you're getting into, but you still care so much. Why? Why have so much feeling for it? I can see inside your head… but not your heart. This is a mystery to me."
"For the same reason why I care about you and took you in," he said to her in response.
There was no answer from River Raider… just an itch inside of his brain.
"You think males only want one thing from females, and right now you can't process this exchange," Hornet said to River Raider. "The mystery that you can't understand is that he helps others and wants nothing in return. You can't conceive of such a thing. You've been conditioned by your expectations. Hurt by them. I can sense the wound in your mind. You really and truly can't conceive of goodness for the sake of goodness."
"No I can't." She spat out the words as if they tasted awful and then River Raider went silent once more.
"Your kind are brutes," Hornet said, now treading into dangerous territory. "Aggressive. Volatile. They are nasty and mean… but behave well because of conditioning. You see past all of that and understand you and your species for what they really are. And others, I suppose. You should come and spend some time with us changelings. We're trying to sort out what went wrong so we can make ourselves better. The ultimate in group therapy. But with a hivemind. Maybe we could help you."
It was quiet again, but that didn't mean that there was no communication. A silent exchange took place between River Raider and Hornet. The two telepaths were having some kind of meaningful discourse, a direct exchange of thoughts. River Raider didn't appear quite so grumpy, though Sundance couldn't say exactly what it was about her that made this so. A softness that marred her hardness, perhaps.
He wanted them to be friends. To be close. Even if he was just a tiny bit jealous of them. He'd been first to approach the dangerous beast. Through much effort he tried to gain her trust. When she spoke, he listed—and goodness did she ever have a lot to say when she opened up. So much effort spent on his part… and Hornet seemed to have done more in a day than he had in all this time. But that was fine, even if it stung a little.
Friendships were tricky business, as Twilight Sparkle would no doubt tell him.
Perhaps what one gained was equal to or greater than what one gave away.
"This seems like the place we should focus our search," Megara said. "There's lots of food here. A serial killer walks the streets. And by streets, I mean all these creeks and brooks and tributaries. It's perfect for hiding his tracks. I'm guessing that he can just ambush ponies on the banks while they're pulling a load. That leaves them vulnerable, and all tangled up in tack. Probably can't get away."
In acknowledgment, Sundance nodded; what Megara said made sense.
"Lots of wheat and oats and corn here," the manticoress continued, sharing her thoughts aloud. "You know, Sundance… you could feed a lot of ponies with all this grain. Wouldn't be right to just come and take it… though, that's your right to do so if you should so please… but I am pretty certain that you could coax them into giving some of it to you if you gave them something in return."
"And that would be?" he asked.
"That's for you to sort out," she replied. "Think of it as your homework."
"Right. Got it." He was learning how to rule. How to baron. Baroning was simple, if you didn't mind being a jerk. But Sundance was not a jerk, and took exception to jerkitude. Besides. He saw himself more as an administrator. These ponies were more than capable of managing their own affairs. He was an executive… of Sunfire Incorporated. That complicated things a bit, but the goals and the outcome were the same.
But… these ponies represented a substantial increase in paperwork.
"Stop!" Even as River Raider shouted out a warning, she began to circle. "I sense a mind! Not a pony mind… something else… something grotesque and simple. Stay alert!"
Rather than think about the danger, Sundance began to wonder if River Raider could hover. She was too heavy and her batlike wings were too different. It was now obvious to him why Megara had forcefully dragged River Raider along. She could sense minds—such as ogre minds—and that made their hunt so much easier. If they had the ogre, then the job was mostly done. All they had to do was the dirty business of killing him and then off they pronked.
Or flew, as the case may be.
"Wha'd'ya have, River?" asked Megara, who also began to circle.
"Something vicious. Hungry. It's foul… slimy. Yes, it is slimy."
"Slimy?" Megara circled with River Raider, matching her for every wingbeat.
"Yeah, slimy. I don't think it's an ogre. It's something… gross."
"Well, find it. And we'll give it the business if we can. It's way too close to ponies. There's a farm right over there. And there. And over there, too."
"I don't sense anything," Hornet said.
"Well, I do… I do…" Banking slightly, River Raider began her decent and ribbons of smoke flowed from her nostrils. "It's faint. Barely intelligent. It's barely even a mind… I've felt this before… I know I have…"
Hovering in place, Sundance turned his sharp eyes upon the situation—but saw nothing out of the ordinary. There was murky water, trees, tall swaying grass that rippled in the wind, some sort of berry bushes… and what he didn't see—or in this instance, hear—alarmed him. There were no birds. Nothing chirped. It was quiet, too quiet. This sudden realisation caused the hairs along his scars to rise and there was a cold, clammy sensation in his guts that he didn't like, not at all.
"Sundance is aware of it too," River Raider said, almost hissing. "Meg?"
"I got nuttin'," she replied.
Down near the water now, River Raider flew true to her namesake. She was agile for being such a bulky creature, easily flitting between trees while moving at terrific speeds. Sundance swooped in to follow her, and then was joined by both Hornet and Megara. The changeling did fine in the tangle of trees, but Megara was hindered by the overgrowth. For Sundance, it was a learning experience, and he began to understand their strengths as fliers.
"There." River Raider almost spat out the word as she pointed with her raised left hoof.
"There?" All that Sundance saw was a willow tree. At least, he thought it was a willow. He wasn't terribly familiar with trees in general, but this one resembled what he thought a willow should be. It was a bit short, with dull, mossy bark, and long drooping limbs.
Just as the willow came to life and began to move, River Raider shouted, "Troll! Pull up!"
The long dropping limbs became wildly waving whips, all of which reached for Sundance. He flew backwards, a neat trick, and zoomed away before the flailing limbs even got close. River Raider too, was shockingly fast, and she veered away as the willow troll's maw creaked open. Megara was not so lucky, and she swiped with her claws at the advancing whips. As for Hornet—she buzzed away at incredible speed.
"Crap, I've been trolled!" Megara roared.
"I told you it was slimy!" shouted River Raider as she began to circle around.
"My father told me I'd get trolled if I wasn't careful!" Megara yanked and pulled as the reaching willow whips began to wrap around her forelegs. "Argh! A little help here!"
The willow troll stood right on the edge of the murky water, no doubt just waiting for a meal to go by. It was low effort trolling, but undoubtedly effective. Otherwise, why would the troll bother? Snatching up unwary passersby was no doubt the dream of every troll and Sundance learned himself a valuable lesson as Megara became entangled: don't get trolled.
Veering around, River Raider leveled herself out and then flew right for the troll. Alarmed, Sundance watched, but was unsure of what to do to help. From the looks of things, Megara was in trouble, and she was being overpowered. For every flailing limb she swiped, slashed, or sliced with her claws, more grew to replace them. For all of her might and prowess, she could not get free, and with a splash, she fell into the swampy water.
Hornet flew in closer, but like Sundance, she didn't know what to do. She flew in circles, and somehow stayed just out of reach of the lashing willow whips. Sundance swooped in and began to do the same, hoping to keep the troll at least somewhat busy. He wasn't quite as fast as Hornet, but he wasn't slow like Megara. As for River Raider, she neared the end of her strafing run.
Turning her head off to one side, River Raider belched—and a massive gout of flame spewed forth along with an absolutely disgusting, gurgly sound. She had to be careful, because she was not fire-proof. So shooting off to one side made sense, rather than risk flying into her own fiery conflagration. The troll ignited and within seconds, its body was completely engulfed in flames. Unfortunately, River Raider flew too close and she too found herself surrounded by fire.
Sundance, who almost cried out in terror, watched as River Raider submerged herself in the muck. She plopped right in and was gone. A second later, she came shooting up out of the sludgy water, smouldering and steaming but seemingly unharmed. Just a bit scorched, with a few patches of hair missing. Laughing maniacally, dripping slime, she hurried away from the troll, who was now quite consumed by flames.
Meanwhile, Megara clawed herself free and swam away to escape.
The troll burned; it hissed and popped all while it made a terrible keening wail of agony. Sundance felt bad for it, but not too bad. After all, the troll had trolled them, Megara most of all, and had no doubt eaten more than a few ponies. It fell into the river, but even partially submerged, it continued to burn. An oil slick appeared on the surface of the water, gleaming with all of the colours of the rainbow, until it too ignited and began to burn. Troll blood, it seemed, was just that flammable, if it could be called blood at all.
Parts of it splashed and thrashed, but all that did was fan the flames. Sundance saw it's open maw and its curious thorny teeth. Its barky tongue slithered like a serpent and one eye peered out from a cloud of fiery Tartarian fury. As for the other eye, it was submerged beneath the water—which did nothing to save it from its terrible fate. Trolls were flammable, and deserved to burn for trolling others. Flaming them was the only way to be rid of trolls, and Sundance took this lesson to heart.
"I am River Raider! The raider of rivers!" She circled overhead, bellowing with fury. "I've been burning trolls out of existence since I was a fledgling! I'll not be bested by the likes of you! The waterways are mine! Mine and not yours! Look skyward and be afraid! Now die, and leave my mind in peace!"
She was having a moment, Sundance realised. And rightfully so, she deserved to have a moment of glory, or whatever it was that she partook in right now. Perhaps she was showing dominance. Or this was some ritual for her kind. She was filthy, scummy, slimy, filth-ridden, and glorious. In this moment, River Raider was perfect, and she was beautiful.
With the sun directly overhead, she was an object of worship.