I could tell that I couldn't outrun any of the armed ponies and turning back wasn't really an option. What would I do, take cover?
Accordingly, I shifted my weight, and threw my arms around my sides (as best as I could with Blueberry shoved under my left one) and grunted exaggeratedly. It was the same general stance I saw that worked on scaring off scavengers
To my dismay, the trio kept running, and the unicorn let out a wordless whoop of bloodlust, which was echoed by his lackeys.
I lowered my horns, and hoped this would end better for me than for them.
While I couldn't see my attempted murderers with my head low, the sounds of hooves on worn street did not let up.
Finally, I gave up with trying to pretend they would stop, shrugged my shoulders, and charged, throwing my head around doing my best impression of a seizure suffer, which, in fact, is one of the better way to utilize a pair of horns nearly as wide as one was tall.
However, to my shock, they did not break rank as I would have wanted them too, and when I stopped running near the other end of the street and reared back up, I saw that one of the axe-users was on his side, moaning horribly. Looking up, I noticed that there was a strip of flesh hanging off my right horn like an ornament, bloody and shredded. I also noticed a tooth, and at that moment I quickly turned my widening gaze to the two other ponies assisting there friend in hopes of stopping the fight.
Suddenly, I heard a crack of thunder, and I felt a small sharp pain on my right side, near my ribs. Putting my free hand on it, I didn't need to look at it to know it was bleeding.
I always knew getting shot hurt, but this was new. And painful. Getting to my knees, I was conflicted between either taking the limp pony at my side and using her as a projectile to take out one of the ponies and then bash him over the head with my own head, or to simply charge again and try and tackle them all in one go.
The sensible, planning part of my brain shriveled, however, when another burst of buckshot grazed my left shoulder. Putting Blueberry down on the ground, I simply kicked a leg at the ground for a few moments to prepare before running forward, arms forward against my chest, to the ponies.
Redwood might have said something, but I didn't hear it over the sound of my left hand slamming into his nose, which caused a painful crunch for both his nostrils and my hand. His earth pony friend tried to swing an axe to my back when I was turned to his leader, but I smacked his head hard with my entire left arm, which sent him down on his side. Neither pony stirred much, but, to my slight horror, the nearly jawless pony a dozen feet away or so wasn't moving at all.
The impact of realizing that I might have committed murder lessened lightly when I felt the gun wounds tingling lightly, like little burning fingers trying to wiggle there way into my sides. On that note, mind sharpened by pain, I barged inside the bar in search of the shooter.
After finding him, I nearly lost what little I had ate and drank that day, as the main reason he was unable to scream more slurs at me being that his gun was in his mouth, and the needed organ for thought was making a pink-grey mural on the wall.
Eventually, my head somewhat light from blood loss, and recovering from the very thought that I just fought a handful of ponies who wanted to kill me for whatever reason and won, I decided to pile the three goons around the brain-scant bartender and left the door open. Out of a half-hearted hope to clean my wounds, I took a dip into of the Donk River.
It was cold, far colder than that of the aquarium water, but it was less slimy. Despite this, however, the stink of sewage made me almost miss the dead fish aroma of the Seahorse, and I only stayed in it enough to make sure the liquid dripping down my sides wasn't red and that the piece of pony on my horn was dislodged. I tried not to step too deep, as the muck was seemingly more organic in a slimy way that reminded me horribly of Emerald Sea. Looking down the somewhat visible riverbank, I noticed that there was, in fact, a large building on my side of the river,off to the east, and it seemed somewhat stable. After a few moments of thought, I decided to visit it the next day, if I lived for that long. After a minute or so of barely tolerate cleaning up, I fetched my drunken traveling partner.
Blueberry, to my amusement, was still out cold, and made a light snoring sound when I tossed her on my non-bleeding shoulder and walked inside the inn we were staying in. The guard who was there before was gone, oddly enough, and it really did seem as if I was the only one awake inside. Which was unlikely, as far as things went, as it seemed to me that everyone in the wasteland expected to be killed by every other member of the wasteland at some point in time. If anything, the lack of ponies simply made me scared.
After passing through the silent grey corridor that smelled oddly of paint, I shimmied into our dwelling and laid Blueberry on the grey-lit bed.
It was that moment that I realized that the candle on the table was lit.
Neither of us, of course, lit it, because there wasn't a candle when we left.
I heard something cough. Jumping slightly, I quickly scanned the room.
On the far side of the room, near the window, a comparatively tall, angular dark blue unicorn with a curly red mane, clad in oddly ornate scaly leather jacket with a red undershirt and...ruffles around his neck was looking at me inquisitively, as if I was the unexpected guest. He blended in with the darkness, and I took a few steps forward, preparing to fight,
"Hello there, minotaur. I was wondering where you were." The unicorn said, sounding affable and conversational, almost kindly as if he was not standing in the middle of someone else's room,uninvited, in the middle of the night.
Standing there, bleeding lightly, tired, and still slightly wet, all I could do was nod and stand where I was. If he was going to kill me, he didn't look the part. He seemed friendly enough and I was tired with the general bullshit of the day I was having so far, and, furthermore, he seemed unarmed. Tiredly, I pointed a finger at him from across the room.
"Were those your goons?" I said, sighing lightly as I slowly moved my left hand closer to the desk.
He turned up his nose. "Goons? The ponies causing a ruckus a few moments ago?" He looked at me for a moment, and his mouth then broke into an o-shape. "Oh, I can understand why you must think I am...ah, excuse my rudeness. I was unaware you were coming back from an attempted lynching. Accept my apologies." he said offhandedly.
"No."
He raised an eyebrow, but chuckled. "I suppose this is all a mite odd, but must I suppose you are wondering who I am?"
I looked at him. Unicorn. Fancy clothing. Combed hair. Disregard for privacy. Only one real option, in the end.
"You are one of those 'Purebreds' I keep hearing about." I said cautiously.
His smile and slow nod made me want to hit him. His face looked naturally punchable.
"Ah, well, in that case, my name is Troubadour, and I am, indeed, a member of the Purebreds." he said, bowing lightly.
Standing straight against the wall, I looked at the stallion for a moment before responding.
"My name is Ever Watchful, and I want to know why you are in my room." I said, unamused by his flightiness.
Unperturbed, he looked at the still pony on the bed curiously. "And who is this? A friend? A lover?"
Gagging slightly, I cut him off with a wave of a hand. "I am her bodyguard. As you can see, she needs guarding, as she is drunk and strange ponies like you tend to show up in our way. Give me a reason why I should not toss you through the wall." I said, being as blunt as I could be. I felt as if I was switching back into 'guard' mode.
He turned his head to his right for a moment, and I knew that the thought that I could knock him through the admittedly thin wall was a distinct possibility. Coughing lightly, he looked at the desk that had most, if not all of the stuff I personally cared about on.
"That must certainly be a fascinating story, but let's cut to the chase, err, Ever Watchful, yes?"
I nodded. He laughed off my darkening look with a wave of his hoof.
"Well, I suppose you know who Charnel is, yes? The former N.C.R colonial?"
I raised an eyebrow, confused. "She's not, anymore? A member of them, I mean."
He looked at me, eyes widening slightly. "I must ask, you are not on some sort of righteous mission to avenge some relative or another for a brutal death at her hooves, correct? That happens from time to time."
I stared at the stallion, and I had to bite down a peal of laughter. "No, no, not yet, anyway. I am, however, carrying a bit of information regarding her. I suppose you wish to obtain it?"
He nodded. "Indeed. I doubt it was publicly announced, but it was stated on Dise's radio local station. Retired, without a doubt, presumably heading for Tauronto."
Something wasn't right. "Wait, if she didn't alert you that I was coming up, then why are you here?"
Troubadour blinked, and for a moment I thought I would have to make due on my words on throwing him into the wall. "It's simple, really. I saw Blueberry traveling with you, and knew I needed to speak with you eventually. I expected you to be awake, though," he dragged a hoof across the floor lightly;” I did not expect to speak to her by proxy."
I blinked. "You know Blueberry? She said something about nearly joining you’re group a few days ago."
He looked at the little form on the bed and nodded, face an expressionless mask.
"Yes, she was nearly a member a few years ago, but she vanished. I doubt anyone really remembers her; she never did do much for the group as a whole. I really just remember her from her..." he fumbles lightly with his words. " Figure."
I really didn't know how to respond to that, so I simply went on with what I believed was in order.
"Disregarding that statement, you might wish to know that..." my eyes shifted to the cream envelope "I must ask if you are a friend of Charnel."
He blinked, and began to laugh. Hard. He almost broke into tears, and he needed to lean on the side of my bed to support his weight.
"Good heavens, no! Almost the complete opposite, in fact! “he barely got out, "in fact, it is the exact opposite!"
I was somewhat relived that, at the very least, the pony who broke into my room could be considered an ally of sorts. Which raised another question.
"You seem like a decent enough pony," I said, gesturing to his clothing,” but as it is, going into someone's room at night is pretty high on the list of things you should not do. Really, I would think that some pony who thinks they are a noble would be polite."
I realized I said the wrong thing when he stopped laughing and looked at me like I just insulted him.
Oh, wait.
"Minotaur, I insist you take that back. You know nothing about nobility." he said, voice unchanged but face hardening. "My kin ruled from Canterlot while your kind was still on there way to understand fire. No, minotaur, you will not lecture me on what I am allowed to do."
I was prepared to come back with a witty retort, in that I was going to take a page from ponykind's book and name the closest object near me Witty Retort and bash the unicorn over the head with it, but Blueberry sniffled and yawned lightly, which caused the shadowy pony in the room to pause before softening his gaze.
"Perhape's this was not a good time to talk. I will take the letter to my mistress and leave for Tauronto. We will talk, later, eventually." he picked up the letter with a grey cloud of magic, and shuffled it into some pocket obscured by the dark. "I wish you and Blueberry luck in your travels, but I will inform you that you will not be rewarded if you come to the Ritz. Charnel will be dealt with, but for now you have no use to me or my leaders. Sleep well."
And with that, he simply trotted off out the room and out the open door, warping the candlelight as he passed. It was also at this point that I noticed that the terminal light was off, either powered down or broken. Presumably, the stallion might have helped himself to the files.
I waited about thirty minutes standing there, waiting for the sounds of hooves trotting to stop at first, and then simply standing there out of suspicion and paranoia.
After a while, I hit my head lightly against the wall behind me, in an attempt to wake up from the nightmare I was in.
Realizing I really did hurt, from the real wounds on my side and shoulder and my neck and my legs and my everything, I slumped down the wall noisily, and, after seeing the small body on my bed shift lightly and curl up in my sheets, I sighed and shut my eyes, and realized that, at this point, I could probably sleep anywhere.
By the time I dozed off into slumber land, I realized I barely knew what the hell was going on anymore.
Level Up!
Perk Gained!
Favored Enemy-Equinoids: Your a natural at taking down four legged creatures of equine stock, it be because of your build or your hatred of them. Your melee attacks have a 20% higher chance to cripple the limbs or body parts of ponylike creatures .