//------------------------------//
// Chapter 12 
// Story: Combat Magic 
// by totallynotabrony 
//------------------------------//

	The next few days passed surprisingly quickly. Rarity received her Kevlar and happily set about fashioning fashionable armor out of it. A few other things had come with the delivery, too, some of which Rarity didn’t recognize but decided to ask about later. Of interest, there were a few green, pineapple-shaped objects marked with explosive warnings.
Much of her gear she made herself. It was all highly personal, and made Rarity feel that she had a greater connection to it. She reluctantly decided to incorporate leather, remembering how useful a material it was. This was particularly useful for a pair of custom pistol holsters that Rarity hand-tooled. She did not particularly see the need for “redundant backup,” but preferred having a second gun for the balanced weight of one on each side.
Rarity decided to apply her toughening and waterproofing spells later, after she was satisfied with the creation of her uniform. Alterations could sometimes affect clothing magic.
These were not the kind of items she could wear in town, however. Rarity had regular clothes for that. She wore them on an evening trip to Battleground.
The six of them decided to again try their luck at drinking. Rarity was nervous, based on her first experience, even though she was assured that fights were not always guaranteed when alcohol was concerned.
A few of the patrons in the bar looked familiar, and they certainly recognized the newcomers. Conversation dropped to quieter levels as they were seated.
“We should be good,” reported Rob. “We’ve made an impression and now the locals don’t want to mess with us.”
While Rarity had never wanted to be known for violence and conflict, she had to admit that it was better than being considered weak. She just wished that there hadn’t been a scuffle involved in creating that reputation.
A man hesitantly approached. Rarity recognized him as one who had been involved in the fight and watched him somewhat anxiously. He walked up to the table. They all turned to stare at him.
He swallowed nervously. “I just wanted to say…we’re cool. I put everything behind me. No more trouble.”
Rob nodded, throwing a sympathetic look onto his face. “It’s understandable. We all do things we aren’t proud of sometimes. No harm done.”
The visitor relaxed. “That’s good. I didn’t want things to be rough.” He turned to go but stopped. “Oh, there was some guy in here the other day asking about all of you. He sounded British. No idea who he was.”
Once again, the drinking was curtailed, although this time to make emergency plans. Someone who knew about the six of them could be serious trouble.
“Who are we aware of that is British and knows about us?” asked Bear as they drove hastily back to the cabin.
“That depends,” said Morgan. “Do they hate us?”
“If that’s the case, probably the whole nation,” commented Jenny. “I heard relations went south after we exported Jersey Shore.”
“Is it the Templars?” asked Rob.
“They aren’t necessarily British,” answered Veronica.
“Why can’t they be Templars?” whined Rob. “At least they have cool novels written about them and we would know where we stand.”
“Would one of you like to tell me what is going on?” broke in Rarity.
“We left Raven Rock because our cover had been blown,” explained Morgan. “Now someone shows up asking about us, and it sure as fucking fuck looks like we’ve been exposed again.”
“Your swearing is getting increasingly creative,” muttered Veronica.
Rarity considered the situation. “For a secret government agency, it seems that you’re rather...not secret.”
“No shit, Sherlock!” shouted everyone.