We had left Ashville only a couple hours and had started walking along an unbeaten trail toward the edge of the mountain. While we were walking, I kept spawning my weapons and recalling them back into my body. The point was to get used to the pain so I wouldn't collapse during a fight. Each of the weapons spawn with the corresponding thoughts; If I wanted to draw my gun, I’d think about shooting someone. If I wanted to pull out my knife, I’d think of cutting meat.
The black forest was creepy as it was empty. Nothing came in our path and the only things we’d seen so far were woodland critters. Tiny black squirrels, black deer and black rabbits avoided our path. Within another hour, we had entered a clearing in the forest to see a wide view of world below us. We all stood stunned at the view of the land that went on farther than we could see.
Directly below however, was a expanse of dull brown and black land. We couldn't make out any details, but that didn't stop us from enjoying view. Nightheart finally broke the silence,lighting a cigarette and let it hang out of his mouth. “So, are we going to Dustown or what?” he asked me. Gh0st and Crow broke from their reverie and started walking without me. I took one last look at the view of Equestria before catching up with the boys. After another hour of walking, we finally hit Dustown.
The moment we entered the town, I already had one word for it... Dusty. Everything was covered in a thin layer of black dust. Hell, I could feel it accumulating beneath the stone-magma plates that made up my skin. Despite its semi-lively atmosphere, it felt like a ghost town. Very similar to Ashville when I thought about it. The layout was similar to a western town, a large main street with branching side-streets and alleys surrounding a weblike tangle of one or two story buildings. Some of the windows were busted, the glass hanging limply from the frames. In all, the town was a mishmash of contradictions. It felt deserted, but the streets were somewhat crowded. It looked like a dump, but money was clearly being spent in large amounts (If the shiny glints of equestrian bits were anything to go by). It was a weird town.
On the main street, we could see vendors hawking their wares, shouting about the small crowds walking the street.Some were selling something called “ash apples” and “ash ale”. Yuck. What was a common theme for all the stalls, each stall had a diamond dog, a griffon, or a minotaur standing guard to the side of each stall, all were wearing a yellow vest with a crown as its crest. The racial curve of the guards caught my attention. If these were just store guards, what would their boss be?
“What's the plan I.D.?” asked Crow.
I turned to him with a clever grin. “We do what all adventurers do when in a hub, search for better weapons and armor and collect information,” I explained, passing a purse of gold to Gh0st. I nodded to Nightheart and he draped the dragon leg on Gh0st’s back. “You two are going to be in charge of shopping. Buy anything medical and something to carry all that and some food,”I ordered while he stared at the purse, almost entranced with the very weight of the gold. Crow saw the look too and grabbed the purse out Gh0st’s grip. “I’ll be in charge of holding the money, thank you. What are you guys going to be doing?” Crow asked me. I responded with the same clever grin. “I’m gonna go get a drink,” I said ominously.
* * *
Crow’s POV
So after walking all the way the town to get answers, I get sent to shop for groceries? Whatever. After an hour of picking groceries, Gh0st finally suggested we find a clinic to get some medical supplies.
“This sucks. I mean, why can't we go to extort a crime boss for information?” Mitchel complained as we walked the dusty market. Oh, excuse me, Gh0st. Why he chose that name is still a mystery to me. What's an even bigger mystery is why Burijas or whoever the hell that guy was, chose him, out of all my friends, to come to Equestria with me. Which is nothing like I thought it would be by the way. For christ’s sake, within a few days of just being here, I had fought and killed a dragon. A freaking dragon. Let me repeat that, I killed a freaking dragon.
Then theres Idilah.
The one thing I didn't expect when coming to the land of friendship and rainbows, was my college buddy showing up as a lava wraith, or whatever the hell she was. That was a mystery in itself. She can spawn weapons, change shape and do all other kinds of shit that could only exist in games? I really don't know what she is, but I know I never want to piss her off.
“Because Gh0st, I don't want to piss off the girl with a knife and her dragon-pony boyfriend. So shut up and move. I think thats the clinic over there,” I said quickly, pointing to a short building with a caduceus on it’s broken window pane.
The inside of the building was like a mexican doctor’s office. Which is to say it was dirty, unsanitized and seedy. The walls were wooden and bare, and the only pieces of furniture was a single dirty sitting pillow and a desk. The doc behind the desk was stark white with a grey, balding mane. “What can I do you colts for?” he drawled.
Gh0st and I stepped up to the counter. “We need some medical things for on the go. Bandages, aesthetic, stuff like that,” I requested.
“Also, we need to find the blacksmith. Know where he is?” asked Gh0st.
The stallion rubbed his chin, thinking. “Well, I can sell you colts some bandages and some painkillers, but thats pretty much it,” he replied rummaging under the desk. “The blacksmith however, I can say won't be of much help. The feather-brain doesn't even know how to make nails right,” he drawled, lifting rolls of gauze in his mouth, along with a corked glass bottle. He placed them on the desk and pulled a calculator out of thin air. Okay, Pinkie doing it was one thing, but he just pulled it out of thin friggin air. “However if you need someone to fix something right quick, he’s you're griffon. He’s on the east side of town,” He said, punching numbers into the calculator.
So a bad blacksmith that can fix things? That makes sense. Not, I thought as he told us the amount due. I gave him the exact amount and thanked him for his time. I wrapped the dragon leg in a sling of gauze and draped it on Gh0st’s back. We came out of the clinic to see Idilah and Nightheart along with a strange looking diamond dog following them. Nightheart had scowl on his face and was bleeding out of his shoulder. Idilah had a dark but noticeable blood trail coming out of her nose. Idilah regarded us and waved a claw to the gold haired diamond dog behind her. “Boys, meet Mastodon. The leader of the kings,” she announced excitedly.
* * *
A few minutes before rendezvous...
After a couple of hours asking unforthcoming ponies and griffons, someone finally told me that the bar was next to the airship dock. I got few stares, along with Nightheart, but whoever was staring would just as quickly move about their business when they saw the business end of Nightheart’s hammer. On the way to the bar, I caught a glimpse of the airships docked at the edge of town. Most were small frigates, but what amazed me was the fact that they were all being held up by freaking balloons. How the hell does that work?
Ignoring the laws of physics for a second, I noticed a small building across from the dock called “The Dusty Mug.” I looked at Nightheart questioningly and he shrugged. As we walked through the large oak doors of the bar, a pony leading a group of yellow-wearing diamond dogs pushed passed us, forcing us to the side to let them by. The pegasus had dark-blue feathers and dark yellow fur. Her mane looked almost solidified version of Rarity’s and her eyes were sparkling blue, and had a certain glint that spoke of insanity.
We let the group go by and I was about to suggest we follow them, but I heard the most peculiar noise...
“COME BACK TO ME, MY SEMI-LOYAL SUBJECTS!” yelled a diamond dog from the oak counter. To me, he looked almost like a Skyrim werewolf that had starved himself. He had the same long legs and arms with long claws. But unlike the game model, his head was small, and he was really scrawny. His fur was bleached blond and the hair on his head was short and wavy. He was wearing some sort of sleeveless carapace armor that had one shoulder pad bigger than the other and showed off a crown emblem. That same arm looked completely made of metal, along with the gauntlet that covered the other arm’s wrist.
The wolf-dog was leaning onto the counter on a stool in front of what looked like a mountain of black ale bottles. He downed another one as we walked up behind him. Other griffons and ponies shook their heads, wordlessly advising us to leave him alone. Screw that noise, I thought as I tapped the wolf on his shoulder. In one quick yet sluggish movement, he turned to me and I finally got a good look at his face.The left half of his face was scarred with a huge blackened gash across his eye. The eye itself was a blinding bright blue, while the right eye was sea-green.
“What do you want?” he slurred. “For that matter, why do you speak to the king?! Guards!” he called. I got in a low stance and brought out my knife and Nightheart, his hammer. Nobody in the bar moved. “Oh...Right....Well fuck,” he said, grabbing another black ale bottle and downing the contents. Nightheart and I shared a confused look and put our weapons away. This was the King of Dustown?
We sheifed our weapons, confused. “Um, excuse me? We need to ask you some questions,” I said, grabbing his shoulder again. He turned around again, this time bringing up his gauntlet arm. Wings sprung from the gauntlet and a single metal bolt came out of the center, pointing straight at me.
Did he just pull a crossbow on me?
The King let a bolt fly. Sensing this faster than I did, Nightheart pushed me out of the way, taking the bolt in the shoulder, falling on top of me. For some really weird reason I can't figure out, my nose started bleeding when I stared into his dark-green eyes. He stared at The King, with a murderous glint in those same beautiful eyes. I snapped back into reality, (if you could call it that in a place like this) and stared daggers at The King.
“You just pulled a freaking crossbow on me!” I yelled from under Nightheart. He groaned in pain and ripped the bolt out of his shoulder. He stared at me questioningly, bordering on angry. “And you shot my guy friend!” The King sluggishly got out of his stool and smiled.
“Yes...Now...You...Know...Of..The...King’s...Bye bye,” he slurred before he fell out of his stool and onto the floor. Nightheart and I shared another look and stared at The fallen King. Everybody in the bar just stared at The King, stunned.
I suddenly realized that I had a teenage hybrid on top of me and tapped his shoulder. “Um...could you get off of me?” I asked flatly. Nightheart finally figured out where he was and blushed. We got back on our feet and brushed the dust off our clothes, trying not to meet each other’s eyes.
Wanting to move on from what just happened, I grabbed The King by his enlarged shoulder plate and held his ear close...“WAKE THE FUCK UP!!” I yelled into his ear and shook his shoulder.
He shook his head and clapped his maw open and shut, like he had just gotten out of bed. “I don't want to wake up mommy,” he said before he opened his eyes to see a very pissed off Idilah and dragon-pony.
He frowned. “Oh...Damn. Before you shower me with questions, could I ask who you are?”
I grinned “I’m Idilah Blood and your people tried to steal something from my friend over there,” I shook my chin to Nightheart, who cracked his knuckles for effect. The King gulped. “And he’s the dude you shot. As you can see, he’s very pissed. Now if I were you, I’d start sharing,” I said, lifting him to his feet.
The King brushed off his armor and sat in a stool. “Alright then, see it wasn't I that sent the dogs at you. It was that witch pony that sent them,” he said with disdain, his face scrunching up like he smelled something foul. “She single handedly bought most of dogs, saying that she needed them all for a project. Her first order was for them to retrieve an item of some sorts and bring it back before she left, And no, I don't know where she’s going, or what's she’s doing,” he cradled his head in his hands, as if in agony. “By Celestia’s flank, how could he let her buy us out like that?” he asked himself. “She got almost all of my dogs, not to mention most of my “special orders”, “ he explained using air quotes.
“Who let you get bought out?” Nightheart asked the dog. “And who are these special orders?”
He frowned. “Vito Blumefeather,” he said, venom lacing his voice. “He was my partner in crime. We started the Kings together and he’s now gone from greedy bastard to a greedy snake,” he explained. He smiled brightly with realization. “He’s going to be the one to talk to about that pony, Jill.”
“Where can we find him?” I asked.
King leaned back against the bar. “Probably in his mountainside house, west of town,” he responded.
I stared at him expectantly. He caught my look and continued. “Oh, the special orders are really special creatures of all the races in equestria that we bought off a satisfied client. They’re all extremely talented but mentally unstable. Reason why I got them so easily,” he explained looking at ground.
“How many are there?”
He shrugged. “I forget. Four I think, I hardly ever sent them out on contracts, unless a lot of things needed die’n,” he said nonchalantly. “And Vito keeps one as his personal bodyguard, but I don't know if he let her off the leash too,” he said with uncertainty.
Great now we have four psychos to worry about. This just keeps getting better and better, I thought. But one thing keeps bugging me...
“Hey, if she knows the dogs didn't come back, why did she leave already?” I asked him. He looked to the ceiling in thought but then cradled his head again.
“Funny thing that, even in my drunken state, I asked her that and she said she didn't need it anymore, just troops,” he said curiously.
At least now we knew where to get our info. I looked to Nightheart and nodded. We turned around to leave but was stopped by a mechanical paw on my shoulder. I turned around to see a grinning mercenary. “Oh, I’m not going to miss the chance to kill that double crossing bastard. Let me go pick up my equipment and I’ll lead you to Blumefeather,” he suggested excitedly. “The name’s Mastodon by the way.”
* * *
We left the bar and met up with Gh0st and Crow in the marketplace. They had somehow managed to buy supplies without trouble. The dragon leg was now in a sling of cloth, hanging off of Gh0st’s back. Crow had saddlebags on his back filled with bandages, maps, food, and other things we would need for future travels. I introduced Mastodon and they both warily regarded him. They then both stared at me and Nightheart and I finally realized that my face was still covered in blood, along with Nightheart’s shoulder. I laughed nervously, wiping a bit of dry blood off my lip. “We got into a...Situation. Anyway, Mastodon's going to lead us to our next target. Isn't that right wolfy?” I playfully asked Mastodon.
He snorted. “Sure. Right after I go see my friend the blacksmith. Come on,” he said, walking away and we quickly followed. Crow jogged beside me with a curious look on his face. “Hey, I don't mean to doubt your judge of character, but how you know this guy isn't about to jump us?” he asked quickly.
“I agree. He just attacked us Idilah, how can we be sure he isn't going to do it again?” Nightheart joined in.
I groaned. “I going to be honest, I don't fucking know. What I do know is Vito’s our only bet on finding out what that pony wanted and why,” I replied to them harshly.
“I can hear you guys, you know that right?” Mastodon asked.
“We don't care!” Crow shouted playfully.
Eventually, we came up to a building that was slightly taller than most of the buildings in town. The windows weren't broken, and even had a fresh coat of black paint. On the first floor, there was large porch mostly cluttered with a blacksmith’s forge and anvil, along with a crap-ton of scrap metal everywhere. A griffon was leaning over a workbench, mumbling. The griffon had a slate grey coat and wings. The feathers on his head were chocolate brown.
“Nonono, too much iron. Need to use steel wires to increase tension. Yes, should do nicely,” he muttered to himself faster than I track.
Mastodon clapped his metal arm on the griffon’s shoulder, breaking the griffon’s solitude and making him jump. “Got anything good for me Herpy?” Mastodon asked him.
The griffon, Herpy, turned around faster than I expected him to and smiled. What surprised me was his eyes. He was clearly cross-eyed but the color...
His eyes were honey yellow...
“Ah Mastodon. What's up? Had a good meeting?” he asked back.
Mastodon sighed. “No, not at all. Vito sold out most of the kings and now I’m going to help a new acquaintance put him in the ground. You done with that blade yet?”
Herpy beamed. “Yes! Just got done improving the pulley system. Should work a lot faster now,” he replied quickly. He turned back to the table and pulled out a silver looking mechanical arm almost exactly like Mastodon’s, only this one looked as if it had a bit more bits and bobs in it, making it look bigger than it was.
Mastodon grabbed his mech arm with his other hand and twisted. The arm disconnected from a socket in his shoulder and he set it on the workbench. Herpy then took the new, shiny arm and shoved it into the socket, twisting the arm in place. Mastodon’s face was full of pain the whole time. When the arm was in place, his pained expression released and he flexed his new arm. The boys and I stared at him in silent awe.
Mastodon then flex his wrist and a small blade popped out. The blade was five inches of what looked like pure silver. Mastodon smiled. “This absolutely perfect Herpy!” he yelled, flexing the blade repeatedly.
Herpy smiled, full of pride. “Thats what you pay me for. That’ll be about 150,000 bits,” he said flatly.
Mastodon’s smile dropped along with his ears. He patted areas of his armor, in search of jingling, but found none. “Um...Heh heh...” Herpy tapped his claw repeatedly. “Okay, so I don't have the money!” Mastodon shouted, holding up his arms defensively. Herpy moved in to unhook the arm but Mastodon backed up. “But Vito does!” he said quickly.
Herpy considered this, tapping his beak. “Hmm...What’s to say that Vito won’t kill you?” he asked.
Mastodon smiled confidently, waving a mechanical claw to us. “My new crew over there. I’ve seen them in action, they’re a force to be sure,” he lied. Herpy frowned and looked at us. “Hmm. Alright, but I want it in full. I mean it Mastodon,” he said firmly and held out his claw. Mastodon shook it and Herpy went back to the workbench, mumbling more plans.
Mastodon wiped a sweat off his brow and exhaled. “Oh spirits, we need to get to Vito’s now,” he said to us firmly.
“Why the hell are you so afraid of him?” I asked, curiously.
Mastodon shook his head. “I’m not afraid of him, I’m afraid of what he makes. It might take him a few tries, but when Herpy wants you dead, he’ll make something that can do it faster than you can say “oops”,” he explained.
I rolled my eyes, but was significantly impressed. If we could get someone like him on our side, we could be set. Which reminded me, we had dragon leg and nothing to do with it. I went beside Gh0st and pulled the leg out of its sling, surprising him. I walked up to Herpy, who was still analyzing some sort of blueprint. I tapped him on his shoulder and he turned to me, calmly. “Well hello there! I don't think I’ve seen something like you in Equestria. And trust me, I’ve been all over,” he said fast, but calmly enough for me to understand him.
I smiled, showing off my teeth. “Well, you're right I am new here. And I’m looking for something to do this dragon leg,” I said, holding it up. Herpy’s eyes straightened, went wide and and his arms twitched as if he wanted to grab the leg from my hands. He cleared his throat, composing himself. “Well that is...a fine sample you have there. And you say you wanted to know what you could do with it?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
Herpy smiled deviously, creeping me out a bit. “There two things you could do with just this leg alone; you can use the scales to strengthen armor. And also (most importantly); the bone itself, if tempered right, can become an extremely powerful weapon,” he explained.
With that explanation, I had only one question... “Can you do it?”
Herpy started laughing so hard he nearly made me drop the leg. “Oh, are you kidding? I could barely make that broke bastard’s arm! I only do prosthetics but theres a pony in Trottingham I know, who could help you out,” he replied.
I sighed, disappointed. “Oh well,” I turned to the guys with a frown on my face. “You ready to go Mastodon?”
He smiled ear to ear. “Is Celestia’s flank white? Lets go put that bastard six feet under!”
