//------------------------------//
// The Bandit Hunt 
// Story: Dependable Blades 
// by DocDelray 
//------------------------------//

        Mornings- there wasn’t anything Amber Shine hated more than them; then again, being a nocturnal creature by nature led to her ruing any point in time the sun was up to begin with. This, however, was a new kind of torture for the mare: Here she was, trapped on a cart in the middle of a wide open field with the new day’s sun slowly rising into the sky.

        At the start of this long journey, Amber had attempted to get some kind of shuteye, only to find far too many factors compounding against her. Catching up on lost sleep was hard to do between the jostling of the cart and the lack of any cover to hide from the sun. In an effort to combat this, she had used her wings to create a makeshift hood. Glancing around the cart, she began taking stock of her comrades.

        Firstly was Larisa. The self-proclaimed healer and potions expert was certainly geared to live up to her claims. A bandolier was slung from shoulder to hip and carried a wide variety of veils and bottles of liquids and mysterious concoctions. Slung over the opposite shoulder hung a bag heavily laden with various apothecarycial supplies. A long coat of faded red cloth with small metal plates worked into the fabric was worn over her usual clothing to provide some form of protection. What drew the mare’s attention, though, was the strange clockwork device that was strapped to the demonling’s wrist.

        She sat close beside the ragged man known as Volf. The scar-covered hunter still kept the majority of his features hidden beneath his hood and mask. A dull green cloak hung about his frail form. For protection, he wore a shirt of dulled and tarnished chainmail that blended with his dark and dulled clothes. Armed with a long yew bow and a well stocked quiver of arrows, he certainly looked the part of a hunter in Amber’s eyes. 

        Alistair’s finely-tailored clothes had been replaced with a mixture of what looked to be lightweight armor and robes of an equally sterling quality. It struck the mare as funny; he had been introduced to her as a knight and yet he wore so little protection and carried just a sword. She was able to get a better look at the weapon in question when he cleaned and examined the blade. A slightly curved blade that grew wider towards the tip. Amber had heard stories of gryphon raiders in the north that used a similar weapon. She was actually quite eager to see the curved sword in action with the way her superior had talked so highly of the weapon. Hanging from his hip were a few other weapons as well as a small metal bound book that bore odd runic symbols.

        Winky, whose complaints had finally been silenced with a mouthful of cookies, was still clad in the same dirt smeared clothes he’d worn the day before, and from the smell, Amber suspected he’d worn them for much longer than that. Now the excitable creature was armed and that gave her a bit of a shiver. Small, rusty, jagged chips of metal had been sheathed about his person. Strapped to Winky’s back was a short blade of far better quality, though on his small frame looked like a great sword and. Its thick leaf shaped blade sharply curved in on itself at the center giving it a very odd and exotic appearance. It was rather unsettling to think that they actually trusted that thing with weaponry.

        Elwick sat at the front of the cart trying to carry on a conversation of some kind with the elderly driver. Sitting beside him was a shoulder bag that had been stuffed to the bursting point. Scrolls, papers and other various supplies threatened to spill out of the bag. If this gnome was anything like the mages she’d known back in Canterlot, Amber knew there was more to those documents. On his lap sat an argentine staff that curved at the top into a crescent moon with a gem of dulled violet cradled at the center.

        Finally, she cast her gaze down at her own gear: the standard barding of a Night Guard. Maybe this job would net her enough with her share to improve on it. Perhaps spikes added to her forelimb guards to add a bit more punch to her unarmed strikes or maybe even some sort of lightweight blading for her wings. With the way the sun continued to irritate her, a cloak was certainly at the top of her mental shopping list. This bit of daydreaming gave her something to look forward to at least.

        In the midst of her thoughts she’d barely noticed their cart come to a lurching stop. “This is as far as I’m gonna takes ye,” their elderly driver said. “Y’all’re on ye’r own as far as Black Oak Woods is concerned.”

        “You’ve done more than enough,” Elwick commented as he handed the old man a handful of coins before disembarking.

        Amber looked on towards the thick foreboding wilderness with a wide smile. “Oh thank Celestia, shade!” she happily declared before hoping out of the cart.

        “Shade and who knows what else,” Larisa was quick to remind her.

        “If all goes well, our bandits,” Elwick said. “Volf, Winky, you both know what to do.”



        This was his element, where he truly belonged. 

Volf Rothgar quietly stalked his way through the thick undergrowth and foliage. He moved with unwavering confidence and purpose as he made care to avoid walking on the actual road. His bow was kept constantly at the ready while his eyes scanned every inch of ground and forest around him.

        He could feel the tiny red eyes of his companion staring down at him from somewhere in the trees. While the goblin was not his most ideal partner for this hunt, the creature had his uses. Right now it was proving to be quite adept at going unnoticed; if it wasn’t for the occasional falling leaves or dead limb being knocked loose, Volf might not even notice that Winky was there.

        The woods around him spoke volumes to the ragged man’s keen eyes. Kneeling down, he ran a hand over a patch of soft loam that had been pushed down. He gauged the size and weight of his prey before moving to the next track in the line. Every footprint and broken twig silently told him everything he needed to know.

        “Psssssssssst,” the goblin quietly hissed from overhead. “Is peoples ahead.”

        Drawing an arrow from his quiver, Volf silently inched forward through the brush. He could make out the shapes of men just beyond his camouflage. 

        “C’mon you lot, hurry up an’ get the last of these goods loaded up,” a gruff voice demanded. “I wanna get back to camp before dark.”

        Nearing the wall of leaves, Volf was able to make out a clearing that had been turned into a warzone; several carts and carriages had been smashed, flipped over and even a few set on fire. Bodies of merchants and their bodyguards littered the blood-stained dirt, some still clutching weapons in their hands; more than a few of them had arrows littering their backs. He watched as several of them picked over the bodies, snatching valuables, weapons, even going so far as to take the boots off one corpse. 

        “Hurry up you lot,” the largest of the group shouted. “We need to get this place cleared out before another caravan comes through!”

        Volf melted back into the shadows; there were far too many of them for him and Winky to deal with. Moving one of the leather strips from his left wrist, there was a small mirror attached to the bracer. Quietly, he began tapping away on the surface of the mirror, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on the bandits ahead of him.



        Elwick watched as ripples cascaded from the center of a tiny mirror that had been affixed to a chain. “Volf says he’s found some of them, around ten of them in total.”

        “And the goofy patterns in the glass tell you that?” Amber asked.

        “It’s a rather fascinating but simple enchantment I learned from a traveling hedge wizard,” Elwick told her. “You turn a piece of glass into rather useful communication device. All members of the guild are given one.”

        “Oh, neat! When do I get mine?” the mare inquired, now intrigued by the object.

        “I said members,” Elwick reminded her. “You’re still on a trial run.”

        Behind his back Amber mimicked the gnome with over-exaggerated gestures. While unnoticed by Elwick, her other two companions had caught sight of her and fought back a fit of giggles. Alerted to something being amiss, he quickly looked over his shoulder to find the bat pony simply looking off in the other direction.

        “Volf and Winky are going to set up an ambush,” he informed them. “Alistair, you and the rookie will move in and engage after the trap is sprung. Larisa and I shall provide support for the four of you.”

        “Rookie,” Amber Shine scoffed. “Back home I’m a full-fledged member of the Night Guard. I think - no, I know I’m beyond rookie status!”

        “Good, then you’ll have no problem proving your worth.” Elwick snapped at her.

        “Speaking of,” Alistair interjected as he offered the mare his dagger once more. “You might want this again.”

        Amber regarded the blade for a moment before a confident smirk etched across her lips. “Keep it. If your little friend wants a show, then I won’t hold back this time.”



        “By the hells, would you lot hurry up an’ clear this place!” The largest of the bandits shouted as he stalked about the clearing-turned-warzone. “The boss wanted this area cleared out hours ago!”

        All around him, other lightly armed and ragged thugs were busy checking and dragging bodies out of the road. A pair of hulking humanoids, bursting with muscles and standing heads above all the others, hoisted the broken remains of carts and horses alike and forced them out of the way and into the woods. Every now and then one of the brigands would triumphantly cheer out above the grunts and grumbles after finding a shiny trinket or two.

        “Did ya see when dis’ one ‘ere tried ta run for it?” one thug asked his partner as they hauled a body towards the overgrowth.

        “Yeah, kept cry’in ‘bout his wife an’ kid or some spit,” his fellow bandit complained.

        “Hah, yeah, he bled out real good that one!” the first bandit laughed happily as they tossed the body into the shrubs. 

        As the cutthroats busied themselves around the clearing, none of them were even aware of the pair of red dots that followed their every movement. Winky was by no stretch of the imagination the smartest goblin, though perhaps smarter than the average, at least. Furthermore his tiny frame and small muscles kept him from ever being the strongest outside of his species. All in all, for one of his kind, Winky could best be described as average, save for one particular quality which he excelled at. What he had though, was cunning and the uncanny talent to go unnoticed by most. 

Quietly the little goblin stalked around the clearing, as placed himself opposite of his partner. A cruel grin stretched across his face as he placed a hand on the kukri strapped to his back. Every tendon in his body tightened like a spring by the second. He was ready and eager to leap from the foliage and dig his blade deep into someone’s back, but the longer he was forced to wait the less he cared what back he was going to stab. His happy thoughts were interrupted, however, as a body fell through the brush, smashing through his hiding place.

        Winky found himself staring up at a pair of bandits with no place to hide. Panic began to grip his heart as he stared up at them wide eyed and ready to attack. 

        “Oi, green skin, what ya do’in away from the camp?” one of the thugs asked him angrily.

        The little goblin’s sword arm started to relax as a devious glint shimmered in his eyes. “Winky come look for shinies!”

        The pair shared an amused look before regarding the goblin. “You lot know the rules, the ‘shinies’ get shared out after the boss looks over it all. Scurry back to camp would ya, we’ll try ‘an forget ya snuck out.”

        “Okay, Winky do that then,” the goblinoid happily chirped. “Thanks!”

        As the two started to turn and walk away, one of them stopped mid stride. “Hold up a tick, since when does a goblin say thank you?”

        He wasn’t given long to think on this oddity, however: From deep within the woodlands an arrow screamed from the trees and pierced him through the chest, burying itself to the fletching. The cutthroat barely stumbled backwards from this before another projectile struck him through the neck. 

        As his companion’s body limply fell backwards, the bandit reached for his weapon, but before he could draw the blade he found himself the victim of a vicious goblin attack. Winky ran forward from the brush and leapt upon the man’s back. Roughly grabbing him by the back of the shirt to keep himself hoisted up, he aggressively drove his blade into his target’s back. A spray of crimson filled the air as he drew the blade out and drove it home again and again in violent succession. The bandit was barely able to gurgle out an alarm as blood filled his throat and spilled from his mouth before he fell uselessly to his knees.

        “AMBUSH!!!” was the cry that went up from the rest of the bandits whom all quickly drew out their weapons.

        As chaos began to ripple through the collection of brigands, Amber Shine and Alistair Crown charged their way through the brush. The bat mare was quick to overtake the first man in her line of sight, as her metal clasped hooves tearing through the dirt road beneath her. Alistair likewise crashed blade-to-blade the closest enemy to where he had been hidden. 

        The guardsmare could feel her body slip back into the second nature of her years of training. She slipped and dodged about the wild swings of the startled thug before her, one or two lucky hits only managing to graze her barding. Finally, the opening she had been waiting for appeared as his sword swung far too wide and left his left side completely open. Like a flash she quickly buried her hoof into his exposed side with all the force she could afford. Her overly developed ears were treated to the pained cry of her opponent coupled with the oddly satisfying crack of his ribs.

        Before she could engage him further, a blade pierced through his chest with a spray of blood. As he fell she was able to catch sight of the wide, excited grin of Winky. The tiny ball of green had been painted with a thick shade of red and gore.

        “Amber, get down!” Larisa shouted at her.

        Not one to argue in the middle of fight, the mare quickly flattened herself against the dirt. She then heard the most curious sound, thoomp, like air being forced through a tube. It was then followed by the painful screech of one of the brigands. Venturing her gaze upwards she could see Larisa’s strange arm mounted device leveled with a bandit. His skin and clothing were smoking and smoldering as they began to dissolve under thick green ooze that had splattered him.

        With no intention of wasting her companion’s momentum, her wings once more played the part of impromptu hands. She grasped the bandit overtop of her tightly about the legs with her surprisingly powerful appendages and leapt forwards with all her might. His legs yanked from under him, the bandit toppled to the ground, still burning alive as the acid ate away at him. This suffering did not last, as the goblin’s sword was driven through him during this moment of helplessness.

        Crude and poorly kept steel crashed and bit at the well maintained and keenly sharpened edge of Alistair’s blade. Nimbly, he stepped and dodged about the sloppy attacks of the poorly trained highwayman. His scimitar sliced through the air with honed precision to make quick work of the ragged leather armor and bit deeply into the skin and muscle just beneath. With a quick pull of the sword across the man’s midsection, blood poured out onto the dirt, taking the man’s life with it. 

        Glancing up, Alistair managed to catch sight of a malformed brute thundering towards him with a wild and guttural battle cry. Alistair barely had time to mutter the words before bringing his hand up in the path of the gargantuan fist that was rocketing towards him. However the ogre’s fist found resistance that it had not expected. In its way was now a thin layer of translucent white energy halted the attack’s full damage but not the force of the blow. 

        Alistair was sent backwards several yards from the sheer kinetic force that struck his magical shield. Meeting the gaze of the hulking monster, he watched its dumfounded look quickly shift into blind rage. Narrowing his eyes on the ogre, he spoke the arcane words once more and touched the blade of his sword. Crackling blue energy engulfed the weapon’s edge.

        From his vantage point over the battle, Volf was able to rain arrow after arrow onto the brigands. His sharpened eyes and cunning helping him drive every projectile home. The scarred hunter then found himself meeting eye to eye from across the battlefield with the bandit’s “leader.” The head cutthroat began to shout and point in the hunter’s direction: he’d been spotted and was now seen as a real threat. This point was driven home when one of the hulking ogres grabbed a fist full of debris. 

        Panic aided and drove his reflexes as Volf threw himself from the tree he’d been hiding in. The crash of wood and stone striking all around him seemed to amplify the pain that shot through his frail body. As if jumping from a tree and landing flat on his stomach from the fall wasn’t bad enough, pieces of the ogre’s impromptu flechette rained down upon him adding to the pain he was already in.

        As the ogre let out a roar of victory a streak of blue and gold struck it across the face. Shaking off the shock of the attack, the monster found itself eye-to-eye with a scowling mare. It curiously glared at the mare hovering in midair until a sharp sting in the back of its leg yanked its attention elsewhere. Reeling around, the hulking brute found a tiny green speck of a creature looking up at him with a toothy grin and a blade jammed into the blubbery layers of his ankle. 

        Winky’s ears drooped as he braced himself for the coming pain. A large sweaty back hand struck the goblin with a powerful swat that sent him through the air. His rapid egress was only halted by the remains of a nearby coach. Coughing and whimpering through the hurt, the little green monster curled up into a ball on the ground as injury tore through every inch of his body. The ground shook under the ogre’s approach and Winky resigned himself to the fate that all goblins hope for, a quick death.

        As the ogre loomed over the beaten goblin and rose his foot to crush the annoying speck, a sharp pain entered the back of his head. Rage taking over once again, he swung his bulbous arm around in a wide arc that connected only with air. Amber’s smaller size and the natural fleetness of her breed let her glide around the blind angry swings of the monster. Swiftly, she dove directly at the ogre’s face and plunged the sharpened ends of her horse shoes into the beast’s eyes. A mixture of blood and ichor coated her forelimbs as the orbs popped like over-ripened fruits under the blow.

        With a flap of her wings she kicked herself off the beast’s chest and took to the sky yet again. Her opponent stumbled about the battlefield blindly and screaming in agony while his massive limbs swung about wildly in hopes of striking her. The only thing the monster managed to hit, however were its own allies, all of whom crumpled under the powerful swings. With the aid of her leathery wings she swooped down and grabbed the broken goblin below and carried him off before a thick foot nearly smashed him.

        Her fur stood on end and her ears rang with a loud crackle as a bolt of lightning arced through the air past her. It cut through the air and struck the ogre squarely in the chest, sending it toppling over with a final roar. Following the path of the freak lightning bolt, Amber could see sparks of residual magic still danced around Elwick’s outstretched hand.

        One of the few surviving bandits came running towards the gnome, his weapon high over his head with an angry battle cry. The gnome made no motion to get out of the way of this assault; instead, he withdrew a fist full of multicolored sand from his robes and blew them into the path of the oncoming thug. The highwayman stumbled out of the thick rainbow cloud in a daze and unceremoniously fell to the ground unconscious.

        “Well, that leaves us one for questioning,” he casually pointed out.

        The only outlaw still standing was the last towering ogre. Alistair charged forwards at the beast, magical energies crackling and dancing along the blade of his sword. A massive fist came down hard on the ground in front of him, cracking and smashing the earth under the blow, but the young knight’s agile fighting style allowed him to avoid the worst of the impact and turn it to his advantage. He leapt over the impact and dashed past the burly fist.

        Alistair’s scimitar struck the ogre across the exposed stomach. The moment the magically enhanced blade made contact, the spell was triggered. Lightning leapt through the wound and snaked its way through the ogre’s body, scorching him from the inside out. The massive brute was now covered in patches of smoldering, blackened skin while smoke wafted from his body. Growling in pain, it fell to one knee and glared at the human that had hurt him.

        Before it could bring its heavy limb to bear against him, an arrowhead forced its way through the monster’s forehead. All tension and life left the bulging muscles of the ogre as it slumped onto its knees with its limbs hanging uselessly at its sides. Looking towards the tree line, Alistair saw Volf limping his way forward, his bow acting as a walking stick. 

        “Waiting for the most opportune moment to save me again?” Alistair asked with a jovial tone.

        “I know how much you love theatrics,” Volf chided him with the faintest hint of a smile beneath his mask.



        Amber was gliding blind over the battlefield, Winky’s limp body hanging from her mouth. She’d snagged the goblin’s shirt and wretched him into the sky just before his monstrous opponent could strike a killing blow. But as the tiny green creature hung unmoving in the air, she began to fear the damage had already been done.

        Dropping back below the trees and into the blessed shade they provided, she could see the form of Larisa rapidly approaching her. The mare quickly landed into a fast trot to catch up to the tiefling healer and laid the green skin’s body at her hooves.

        “Larisa, Winky, he, I…” she said sadly, her ears drooping low while she avoided her gaze. “…I wasn’t fast enough to save him - I’m so sorry.”

        Larisa knelt beside the goblin and set to work examining the damage done to him in full. “I wouldn’t count him out just yet, Amber. This goblin is still alive.”

        The mare’s head quickly peeked at this exclamation. “You mean that?”

        “Yes,” she said, fishing around inside her satchel. “I’ve got just the thing right here. It’s guaranteed to save our little goblin friend, no problem!”

        “Oh, thank the goddesses,” Amber sighed in relief. “So, what is it, some kind of spell, one of those potions you talked about before, or maybe some kind of magical device?”

        From deep within the massive bag of various supplies, Larisa produced a small, neatly wrapped package. “I brought these for him, just in case. It’s made from a secret family recipe that’s been passed down through the ages.” 

        Amber watched with bated breath as the small parcel was unwrapped. Her eyes grew wide with curiosity as the twine that held it together was removed and the paper surrounding it was pulled aside. Larisa pulled Winky’s head onto her lap and brought the opened package beneath his nose. She moved it back and forth trying to coax the scent to waft up to his nostrils. With no warning, his beady red eyes sprang open and his tiny body launched forwards. Crying out for joy, the goblin attacked the supposed medicine with a ferocity that made Amber cringe away.

        “What the hay is that stuff?” Amber asked.

        “The one thing that will motivate Winky no matter what,” Larisa informed her happily. “Cookies.”