//------------------------------//
// Chapter 7 - Conference 
// Story: The Dusk Guard Saga: Beyond the Borderlands 
// by Viking ZX 
//------------------------------//


Southwest Ocean


“Still no sign of pursuit?” Blade asked as she stepped onto the bridge, the rolls of maps in her claws crinkling as she walked across the floor.

“None yet,” Hain said, glancing out the back window. “I guess they didn’t get a close enough look at us. Probably helped that we had our stern to the island.”

“Yeah, well, taking on three fully-loaded Bloodhoof cruisers in this barge wasn’t something I wanted to try,” she said as she stepped up next to the console. Alchemy nodded at her as she approached, his hooves still on the wheel despite the fact that the autopilot lever was in the engaged position. “Even if they wanted to take the ship intact,” she added with a glance at the far wall of the bridge. Barnabas and Frost were sitting next to one another with their backs against the wall, eyeing their little group with an interest that Blade was fairly certain Alchemy was returning. Barnabas in particular looked slightly disappointed that they hadn’t run afoul of any of the searching pirates on their way back to the Manticore.

“So,” Blade said, raising her voice and pulling everyone’s eyes in her direction. “Since I think this is going to be our crew, I thought we’d take the time to do some official introductions and get everyone on the same page.”

“Works for me,” Barnabas said, nodding his horned head at Alchemy. “So who’s the scrawny guy?”

“This ‘scrawny guy’ could probably kick your butt,” Blade said, smirking as she sat down. “This is Alchemy—”

“Hey,” he said with a nod.

“—and he’s an alchemist who has to have a certain potion every so often or he’ll die.” She ignored the shocked looks on Frost and Barnabas’s faces and gave them a grin. “Also, said potion makes him a super-soldier.”

“Those are her words, not mine,” Alchemy said, raising a hoof. “Technically, the potion just makes me a lot faster and stronger than anypony else, in addition to granting me enhanced reflexes, senses, and healing capabilities.”

Blade nodded, though she wasn’t sure he’d mentioned a few of those the first time he’d told her what was up. Still, better to not bring it up. He wasn’t the first here who’d failed to mention a few things.

“How strong?” Barnabas asked.

“He threw a diamond dog almost as big as you over his shoulder without even straining,” Hain said. “Trust me, the kid’s got more potential than he looks like he has.”

“Hey,” Alchemy said, frowning. “Who’s side are you on? Besides,” he said, looking towards Barnabas. “It’s all whipcord muscle. I’m not scrawny. Just lean.”

“But it takes a potion,” Barnabas said.

“Well … yes ... It’s complicated,” Alchemy said.

“If you arm-wrestled … I mean, hoof wrestled me right now, would you have to drink your potion first?”

“No,” Alchemy said, shaking his head. “Why? Are you looking for a challenge?”

“Cool it, you two.” Blade shook her head before the pair could get any further. “You want to do that later, that’s fine. Right now, we’ve got planning to do. And again, getting everyone on the same page,” she said, suppressing a sudden urge to roll her eyes. This is why I work solo.

“So, like I said,” she began, gesturing with her talons towards Alchemy. “This is Alchemy. He is—to no one’s surprise here, I would expect—an alchemist, which means he will be serving as our little group’s resident doctor, medic, whatever you want to call it, and also as a close-quarters-combat expert.”

‘Wait, what?” She ignored the orange pony’s outburst as she turned towards Hain.

“Hain most of you seem to know, so I guess I’ll leave the summary out—unless you’d rather do the honors?” The older griffon shook his head, his grey wings unfolding and refolding as he took another look out the back window.

“Suit yourself,” she said, shrugging. “Hain’s going to be our tactical advisor for this job. If you doubt him, don’t. He’s a genius who’s fought in a lot of battles.” She didn’t miss the curious look both Barnabas and Frost gave the griffon. And, apparently, neither did he. He turned and looked straight at them, his expression neutral.

“Before my exile I was a high-ranking commander in the Regency Wars,” he said, his firm voice filling the bridge. “Blade hired me to make use of that expertise. However, before any of you get any ideas, I’ll reiterate what she said. I am here in advisory and combat capacity. Sunchaser here is the leader of this group, and it’s her name on the contract. Is that clear?”

The rest of the room, save Frost nodded. Frost seemed to merely stare at the griffon for a moment before shrugging as if to say “Fine” and shifting her attention back toward Blade.

“Speaking of contracts, are we going to sign anything?” Barnabas asked. “Or are we just going to go verbal?”

“Verbal,” Blade said, emphasizing the word with a quick click of her beak. “Unless you doubt a griffon’s word …?” She let the question hang in the air, fixing her eyes on the minotaur, who shot a quick glance in Hain’s direction.

“No,” Barnabas said, shaking his head. “Verbal is fine. I just wanted to make that clear.”

“Right,” Blade said. “As for myself, I’m Blade Sunchaser, claw-for-hire, and the one holding the contract for this mission.”

“Which is?” The quiet voice cut through the bridge despite its volume, and it took Blade a second to place it as Frost’s.

“First things first,” Blade said, shaking her head. “Barnabas? Care to introduce yourself?”

The minotaur nodded and pushed himself to his hooves, the tips of his horns almost touching the ceiling. “Barnabas, like she said,” he said, mostly addressing his words in the direction of Alchemy. “Uh … former Cragtooth, now I guess I’m just a lump of muscle for hire.” He let out a low chuckle and slapped one hand across his chest. “Frost and I were Hain’s contact, I guess, although to be honest, if the cult’s what you’re interested in, my sister’s the one to talk to. She keeps it all straight. Me?” He let out a laugh. “I don’t mind a good fight now and then, but there’s more to life than that. Like spending a fifty-thousand bit payday.” He winked at Blade as he spoke and then dropped back down to the floor again, the deck vibrating underfoot.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Hain trusts these characters … Blade thought as she turned her attention towards Frost. The ice-blue mare was giving Barnabas a look of resignation, but when he gave her a nod she let out a quiet sigh and stood.

“Frost Glimmer, unicorn,” she said without an ounce of inflection to her voice. “Former Cragtooth. Now I kill cult members.”

“Both of you are former Cragtooths?” Alchemy asked. “Why?”

“Operational differences,” Barnabas said, shrugging. “We’re still affiliated, just not officially.”

“They got cold hooves after I wiped out a group of initiates in Greyhoof,” Frost said.

“I see,” Blade said, nodding. That part made sense at least, especially seeing as how the Cragtooths seemed to be on their hindquarters. A member of their group going around and killing cult members openly was probably a bit antagonistic towards the peace.

“Anyway, that’s what I do,” Frost said, sitting back down. “I kill cult members.”

“She’s also the one with the information,” Barnabas cut in, rustling the mare’s mane with his hand. “My sister here is pretty well connected, and if there’s something the cult knows, odds are she knows it.”

“What’s your talent? Or your cutie mark?” Alchemy asked. Frost’s attention snapped in his direction, her eye narrowing for just a moment.

“Didn’t get a good enough look yet?” she asked, her voice as cool as her namesake. For a moment Alchemy seemed paralyzed by indecision, his eyes widening ever so slightly, and then he grinned.

“Actually no,” he said, and Blade saw Frost tense, her eyes widening in surprise. “It might have something to do with those saddlebags you’re wearing, though, rather than me being a pervert.”

“I—” Frost’s glared at Alchemy, her look cold enough for a moment Blade wondered if she was going to have to find a new medic. Then she let out a snort and rose with a shake of her head.

“Fine,” she said, her horn lighting with its soft, purple glow. Her saddlebags unbuckled themselves and slid to one side, revealing a slightly arcing cutie mark emblazoned across her flank.

“It’s a rose made of ice,” she said as the rest of the group looked on at the sharply angled and colored ice flower on her flank. “It symbolizes my talent at making things from ice.”

“Like that knife you made in the bar,” Blade said.

“Yes,” Frost replied, replacing her bags across her back before sitting down once more. “Or more commonly, arrows for my bow. I can do other things too.”

“Anything not made to kill?” Barnabas asked. Frost glared at him.

“In any case, I am adept at ranged combat and melee combat both,” she said. “Though ranged combat is my specialty, in addition to my knowledge of the Order of the Red Horn.”

“Yeah …” Blade said, thinking back on their discussion at the bar. “I’ve noticed. You’re not very fond of them, are you?”

Frost’s face hardened. “They’re murderous bullies who think they own the Ocean. Every one of them I kill leaves the world a better place, and if that means I have to kill them all before their brutality is extinguished, then so be it.”

“Well,” Blade said, making a mental note to watch what she said around the young mare. “I don’t know if this mission will give you the chance to do that or not, but odds are it will give you a good start. Provided one thing,” she said, leaning forward. “When the situation calls for it, can I count on you to not kill somepony?”

“If the situation calls for it,” Frost said.

“And the judge of that is?” Blade asked.

“You,” Frost said after a moment. “Provided we—”

“Provided nothing, Frost,” she said, shaking her head. “If I give you a specific order and you disobey it you’d better have a darn good reason. Clear?”

Frost turned her eyes towards Barnabas. The minotaur gave her a curt nod. “Fine,” she said, turning back. “So what’s this job anyway?”

“I’ll tell you, but once I do, there’s no going back,” Blade said. “Even if you did leave somehow, I’d expect complete silence.”

“Hey, fifty thousand bits,” Barnabas said, chuckling. “I’d sell my grandmother for that.”

“Would you?” Alchemy asked.

“Of course I would,” he said back. “Have you ever met my grandmother?”

“No.”

“That’s why you’re asking,” Barnabas turned back towards her. “You’ve got me on this one. I won’t say a word you tell me not to. I swear.”

“Right.” She took a moment to run the details over in her mind. “Okay. Before any of you ask, the identity of my employer is a non-disclosure item. Who I’m working for, and what they want with the package … That’s their business, though I can promise they’ve got good intentions for it.”

“In a line, those words worry me,” Hain said. “But keep going.”

“The package, on the other claw, I can tell you about,” she said. “We’re looking for a … well, I guess you could call it the key.”

“A key?” Alchemy asked.

“Not a key,” she said, shaking her head. “The key. At least, that’s how it was explained to me.” Hain, Barnabas and Alchemy were all giving her curious looks. Frost in the meantime just looked thoughtful.

“Look,” she said. “It’s not a key like a house key. And it might not even be a key, that might just be what it’s called. We’re looking for a hunk of crystal—”

“Crystal?”

“Yes, crystal,” she said as Frost’s eyes narrowed. “Its about … oh …” She lifted her talons, spacing it out in the air. “About yea high and about this big around.”

“Crystal?”

“Yes, crystal!” she snapped, her beak clicking together. “A big chunk of weird crystal in the shape of a cone. My contact said it was supposed to be all weird and glowy, clear on the outside but moving closer to blue or black as the crystal moved inward. And that it might glow. They weren’t specific on the matter.”

“So that’s what it is,” Frost said quietly. Blade’s attention snapped in the mare’s direction.

“What what is?” she asked.

“This,” Frost said, reaching into her saddlebags and pulling out a single sheet of paper. She stepped forward and set it on the bridge’s chart table, spreading it flat with both hooves. “One of my spies gave me this just six days back. He didn’t know what it was, but the unicorn you mentioned earlier, Subtle Eye? He had it when he came back from Equestria.”

“Well, yeah,” Blade said as she stared down at the roughly drawn sketch. “That’s why I was hunting him … or the pony with his description anyway. I knew he had it.”

“I didn’t put the two together until just now,” Frost said, glaring at her, mist rolling off of her shoulders. “So, this is it then?”

Blade looked down at the picture, nodding. It was, she realized as she stared at it, a pretty good sketch, done in some form of rough charcoal. It showed the back portion of the key as had been explained to her, though the rest of it was covered in what looked like cloth wrap. But there was no mistaking the long shape of the cone beneath the wrap, nor the crystalline edge to the rim of the base. The artist had even captured the hollow in the bottom of the cone, with the single bar of crystal bridging the gap like some kind of handle.

“Yeah, that’s it,” she said. “At least, it fits the description I was given perfectly.”

“Hmm …” Frost said, sitting back. “And your employer called it a key.”

“Yes,” Blade said, rolling her eyes. “That’s what I said.” She frowned as she looked down at the image again. “They didn’t say anything about these though,” she said, pointing at a series of small scratches on the outer rim of the key.

“They look like scratches to me,” Alchemy said. “Or imperfections in the material. Why?”

“Because they look like writing,” Blade said, tilting her head to the side. “It kind of looks like old griffon-scratch. From before the founding of the Empire.” She tilted her head up to find the rest of the team looking at her. “What? I read history books when I can. Our species has been fighting for a long time.”

“Well,” Frost said, “if it is writing, can you translate it?”

“I didn’t say that it was writing. I said it looked like it. So not without some kind of reference guide. Anyway,” she said, sitting back. “That’s definitely it. So Subtle is the unicorn we need to find.”

“He is,” Frost said, sliding the picture of the key back into her bag. “He had this with him when he arrived.”

“Good.”

“No,” Frost said. “Not good. Subtle isn’t some low-ranking unicorn. He’s a full mage in the Order. Which means he’s dangerous, and well insulated by the Order itself.”

“And that means?” Blade prompted.

Frost took a step back and looked at each of them. “It means Subtle is one of the higher-ranking members of the Order. Assuming you could even get to him specifically, he’d probably be hard to kill—”

“We just want the key back,” Blade interjected.

“—and he likely wouldn’t have the key anyway,” Frost finished, glaring at her. “Subtle is a spy, an agent who broke his cover a year early to bring that key back. If he did that, it implies that the cult considers the key of high value. Especially since I’ve heard no word of Subtle’s position within the cult changing.”

“So, what?” Blade said. “It’s a tougher job?”

“To put it lightly, yes,” Frost said. “Subtle’s arrival coincided with a build-up of activity around the cult itself. This key?” She tapped at the piece of parchment. “It probably was responsible for part of that. Whatever it is, they value it.”

“Do you know what it is?” Hain asked.

“Not for certain,” she admitted. “I’m still digging. The cult itself is insulated, making it hard to get information out. But given a bit of time, I should be able to. Given that it’s call ‘the key,’ however, it can’t be good. And I can make assumptions.”

“Right,” Blade said, shaking her head. “So the question is, how do we get it, and the fragment that was with it, back?”

“Fragment?”

“There was a smaller crystal fragment with it,” she explained. “No idea what it’s for, but it’s part of the deal, too. We need both pieces.”

“A portion of another key?” Alchemy looked up at her as he spoke.

“Maybe,” she said, turning towards Frost. “Your source say anything about a second piece?”

“No.”

“Thunderheads. I hope he didn’t ditch it.” She looked back down at the image again. “So then, Frost and Barnabas ... How are we going to steal this sucker back?”

Frost glanced at her brother and then shook her head. “We don’t,” she said.

“All right …” Blade took a slight lean back, eyeing the pair. “I’m assuming from how you said that, that there is an alternative to getting this job done as opposed to giving up?”

“If the cult values it, then it’ll be in the cult stronghold,” Barnabas said. “That’s the Bloody Tip, or Pinnacle Rock. The old griffon eyrie.”

“With you so far.”

“The Bloody tip is a stronghold,” Barnabas continued. “Open ice on all sides. Clear vantage point. Airship and ship docks. It’s the locus of force for the Order. Patrolled by Bloodhooves and Order Initiates both.” The minotaur glanced over at Hain. “Anything you want to add?” he asked.

“No,” Hain said, shaking his head. “And having not seen it, all I can add is that from what I understand, sneaking in would prove dangerous.”

“Not dangerous, suicidal,” Frost said. “If we tried to sneak inside.”

“Right, not an option,” Blade said. “I’m getting that. So what’s option two?”

Frost gave her a cold smile. “We get an army, and crack Pinnacle wide open.”

For a moment the bridge was silent save for the faint whistle of wind and the groan of the ice. Even Barnabas seemed stunned by his sibling’s claim, staring at Frost with wide eyes. Finally, Blade spoke, working her vocal cords as she forced the words out.

“Say that again?”

“We get an army, and we crack the tower in half. Kill most of the cult. Get your key back.” Frost sat back, the same cool smile still on her face. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s insane,” Barnabas said. “Maybe a crack force could have a moment’s surprise, sis, but—”

“No,” she said, her smile vanishing, the cold, hard look on her face once more. “It has to be an army. I know what kind of forces the cult has inside that tower. How many unicorns they’ve subverted to their cause, even what kind of experiments they’ve been working on.”

“Worse,” she continued, “I have a hunch that they want that key because they have a purpose to it.”

“Like what?” Blade asked.

“It’s a key,” Frost said, her voice flat. “And from what I’ve been able to gather about the Order of the Red Horn, their founders were determined to free some ancient, evil unicorn king from way back when. They don’t talk about it often, but I’ve had a few of them mention their search for him. Usually right before I stick an ice spear through their hearts. No name, just the mention of some ancient dark lord.”

“Right …” Blade sat back, running the thought through her mind. Ancient sealed evil being, huh? A frown slipped across her face, her wings shifting, a few stray red feathers falling to the floor. Crud. I don’t like this, but that actually makes sense. Even if they’re just a bunch of nutty cultists … Her mind flashed back to two years earlier, when the sun had stayed down for more than a day after the mare in the moon had vanished.

“Okay,” she said, nodding. “I’m willing to believe that one’s plausible. Ancestors knowing we’ve already got enough in our talons, I’m not going to put the concept of some ancient, sealed evil being out of the picture.” She looked over at Frost. “Do you think they’re right?”

“Honestly,” Frost asked, lifting one eyebrow. “I doubt it. Lord Sagis is a calculating, power-hungry schemer who’d say whatever it took to get his cult to follow him. The question isn’t whether or not it’s true, but if he’s willing to get his cult to believe it. And they will.”

“Let me guess,” Hain cut in. “This ends with a genocidal war on the rest of the Ocean.”

“A war they’re already well equipped to win at the moment,” Frost said. “Which means our chances of getting the key back are nill without taking the cult apart.”

“What would you suggest, then?” Hain asked. ‘We’re a small force. We can’t wage a war ourselves.”

“No …” Barnabas said. “But we could convince others to.”

“Exactly,” Frost said, her mane bouncing as she nodded. “The Cragtooths are already determined to push the cult back. The griffons want their eyrie back. Both sides want revenge.” She smirked. “If we can convince the griffons that the Cragtooths are willing to work together, the combined might of both forces would be enough to crack the Pinnacle—with a little help from our own influence, of course—and get you your key back.”

Blade nodded. “It sounds like you’ve had this planned for a while. But making a cold war go hot sounds like a lot of work.” She narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure there’s no other way in?”

“Trust me,” Frost said, her voice low. “If there was, I’d have done it already. Even if I didn’t make it back out.”

“Frost …” Barnabas said, a warning tone in his voice.

“Stuff it, Barnabas,” she said, not even looking in his direction. “You know the truth of that as well as I do.”

“I’d like to look at your estimates of the Order’s force assembly,” Hain said, his gravelly voice suddenly warming the cool air between everyone. “But for the moment, I’m going to have to agree with your tactical assessment.”

‘Well,” Blade said, pulling back. “I guess that settles it. So who do we talk to first? Where are we pointing the boat?”

“South,” Frost said quickly. “Due south, towards Cedar Shipyards. If we’re going to do this much traveling, we’re not going to want to do it in this sledge. We’ll need to pick up my brother and I’s ship. Besides,” she said, her lips turning upward in dangerous-looking smile that reminded Blade of a hunting sandcat. “Currently the Bloodhooves are running the shipyards, and if we want to get the Cragtooths and the Teardrop Eyrie on our side, we’ll need to show them we mean business.”

“And for that,” Blade said, allowing a small smirk to slide across her own face. “We’ll need to send a message.” She turned towards Alchemy. “How long will it take us to get there?”

“In this thing?” Alchemy asked. “Three days.”

“Perfect,” she said, flaring her wings ever so slightly. “Then take us south.” She let out a short, curt laugh. “To the Cedar Shipyards!”



Count of Laws Broken: 0
Total Laws Broken: 57
Damage Value (In Bits): 0
Total Damage Value (In Bits): 37,416