There is a legend...

Actually, that’s not quite right. To call it a legend is to assume that everything in it is merely a figment of some long-dead pony’s imagination. What you’re about to hear couldn’t be further from that truth, my little ponies.

So what shall we call this then, hmm? To call it a story would be equal folly. Stories are meant to entertain young foals and to teach them some purposeful morale. This... tale is not meant to be entertaining. It is not meant to teach. There is no moral or happy ending that you will find here. There are characters and villains and dragons aplenty, however. Princes and Princesses, vast hordes of hammered gold and gleaming silver... and it has heroes. Yes, this is that sort of tale, younglings.

You all know the Hearth’s Warming Eve tale... and the folly it lead to. What the story doesn’t mention is what happens before that. It doesn’t mention this story.

New recruits in the barracks of Stormwing share whispers; forbidden lines kept within the tomes of the Canterlot Library; played by bards in the White Tower; a campfire tale on the plains of Appleloosa… this tale is told by all.

Let us go then, children... far to the north and into the Winter’s chill... a land and race divided unto itself. Mar sin, caithfidh sé a bheith, go dtí go leagann an ghrian deiridh... ah, but forgive an old stallion. I get ahead of myself...

Now... where shall we start?

The last verges of light were rapidly diminishing and large angry clouds had gathered in the sky, spewing out sheets of rain. Fires roared in their torches along the walls and amidst the stacks wooden building, the wind came down from the mountains, carrying a moan upon its breath. For the two guards on patrol, it was the worst part of the day and neither of them were particularly happy at the moment.

“By the ancestors,” Harper muttered as he plodded by the village inn, “What I wouldnt give to have a belly full of mead and a warm bed right now.”

“Quit complaining Harper,” his companion grumbled, tipping rainwater out of his helmet. “Its bad enough as it is. I don’t need to add your whining to the list.”

Harper paid no heed to him. “It’s raining sideways. I wouldn’t wish my sister to be out in this weather.”

“Don’t you hate your sister?”

“That’s the point.”

Firestone, a senior watchmen for the village, sighed tiredly. He too had been looking forward to an easy night, but fate had other plans it seemed. Namely to pair him with the youngest guard. If there weren’t wild animals from the forest to look out for, then it was bandits. Both which he was too tired to deal with. The sooner they complete their rounds, the better.

The two passed the doors of the village inn, and they looked in longingly. How easy would it be to just call it a night and go inside...

“Alms,” came the weak request from the alley. “Alms for a pony with none?”

Harper practically jumped in surprise, but Firestone was not so easily caught off guard. He leveled his spear at the alleyway and the pony who sat inside it. A stallion in tattered sodden rags knelt in the rain, his face obscured by a hood.

“Spare a coin on this dark night if you can,” the pony begged.

“Show us your forehead.” Firestone commanded. The spear tip poised dangerously close to the pony’s neck. “Slowly now. No sudden moves.”

The pony hesitated briefly, but pulled the hood off. A gaunt faced stared impassively at them, and the beggar pushed back his grizzled mane. Snow white hairs creeped along the edge of his muzzle. His forehead was smooth.

Firestone, who had been the first to brandish his spear, sagged as he lowered it; rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly as he gestured for Harper to lower his spear.

"Sorry," he muttered. "It's been a long day. You must have heard; those damn bone heads are causing trouble again with their witchcraft."

The stallion stared dejectedly at him, the rain dripping down his face. “Can’t say I have.”

Firestone gave a look to his partner, who grumbled and continued down the village road, not sparing another glance for the stallion.

“For your trouble,” Firestone said, tossing a few coins onto the ground. Harper looked at his senior in disbelief. “Find someplace dry, will you? You look like a rat’s ass.”

“You’re wasting your bits,” his friend warned. “He’ll just waste it on ale or whores.” As if on cue, the coins vanished into the rags and the stallion was upright , walking away from the two as fast as his hooves would take him. The guards watched as the stallion ducked into the inn unashamedly.

Harper looked after him with a scowl. “I told you.”

The Honeysuckle was not a large inn. It was not situated in a large village to begin with, and thus saw few travelers. Built over three decades ago, it had seen better days, if the worn floor and furniture were any telltale.

Still, it was dry here. That alone was a blessing. A fire crackled merrily in the hearth, and the windows were secured fastly against the raging storm outside. Earthpony stallions sat laughing with mugs in hoof, or bickered over the freshly thrown dice. So it was only a few ponies gave any heed to the beggar as he stepped into The Honeysuckle.

The pony shook the water from his body and made his way to the bar, where a stallion tended to cauldron over an open flame.

The stallion’s eyes flicked up to the beggar’s forehead for a moment, before meeting the beggar’s eyes. With a satisfied grunt, he went back to stirring the pot. “What’s your business here, stranger? I ain’t seen you around these parts.”

“Passing through,” the old beggar said simply. “I’ll be gone in the next day.”

“And where are you coming from... ser...?”

“Calcite,” the beggar said simply. “And I’m heading north.”

The the barkeep had any more questions, he was keeping them to himself, and the beggar was grateful for that.

Calcite head turned to the staircase, where a pretty barmaid was leading a stallion up the steps, her tail wrapped around his neck. “Do you have any wet mares here?”

The stallion gave a toothy grin. “We have lots of mares here, and all of them wet.”

Calcite was not amused at the barkeeper’s jest. “Do you have one that is pregnant, or newly given birth. One with milk still in the teat?”

Calcite could see the judgement in the barkeep’s eyes and the stallion lowered his voice to a hush.

“Your one of those sort, eh? Aye, we have something for everypony’s unique... tastes,” he said with a leer. “The only question is, do you have the coin?”

In response, the beggar withdrew a small bag from his cloak. The jingle inside was enough to confirm its contents.

The barkeep nodded and directed him to a room upstairs. He barely had to look inside before he was satisfied with his decision—a young, slim purple mare with long, silver mane. She wore a dress of a flimsy, gauzy material that hugged her flank tightly, leaving little to imagination.

“This one here is Tiger Lily, just gave birth a fortnight ago. She should have what you’re looking for. Plenty of milk in those teats,” the barkeep licked his lips. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a front to manage. Have fun.”

Calcite thanked the barkeep, and shut the door behind him, and turned to the mare. She smiled seductively at him, rising from her spot on the floor.

“Well aren’t you a handsome one,” Tiger Lily giggled and flicked her tail at him. She trotted around him, eyeing him appreciatively. As though he was a suitable colt twenty years younger.

Just like any whore worth their salt would. No doubt she had seen, and been with, stallion worse looking, and did so with a smile.

Still, he could not help but notice the wooden cradle placed in the corner of the room. The whole room smelt of sex and milk, and his nose wrinkled in disgust.

She sauntered back over to the mound of cushions in the center of the room. "Should we begin?" she asked with a wink as she removed her gown in one swift motion.

Calcite was not phased in the slightest, and began to remove his own cloak.

“I’m not looking for those sort of services.” Calcite answered, as he shifted the tiny bundle on his chest. A lilac foal slept against chest, held by a sling that wrapped around the pony’s shoulder. “I’m actually paying for your milk,”

A pair of amethyst eyes opened sleepily with a yawn. Calcite nuzzled the babe, until she cooed with delight, fully awake. Carefully, he bit down on the scruff of her neck and set her down on the floor. The foal looked, now bright and attentive at her new settings.

Tiger Lily blinked in surprise, and a smile crept to her lips. “Well, I have to admit. That is far less creepy.” She gave a glance at her own cradle, “I haven’t fed yet today, though.”

“I’m not asking for much. Just enough to sate her hunger for a while,” Calcite asked.

“I suppose a little bit couldn’t hurt. After all, a growing foal needs her-” the words died in Tiger Lily’s as the filly spread her tiny wings.

The mare suddenly recoiled as though Calcite had pulled out a severed head. “That’s a pegasus,” she spat, not bothering to hide the disgust in her voice. “You expect me to suckle pegasi spawn?”

“I don’t expect you to suckle her.” Calcite corrected coolly. “I’m paying you to suckle her.” For good measure, he nudged the pouch of coins closer.

The mare was no so easily swayed. “And what if I refuse and call the guard on you for harboring a pegasus,”

The stallion’s eyes narrowed as Tiger Lily’s flicked to the door behind him. “You’re welcome to try,” he spoke with an edge to his voice. For good measure, he braced his hoof against the door.

The mare looked between the coins and the filly, who was staring up at her curiously. Then back at the bag. She scooped it up with one hoof and tested the weight.

With a look of contempt his way, she emptied the bag into her own, and laid back down on the bed of cushions. “Fine,” she muttered, rolling onto her side.

The filly looked up at her caretaker inquisitively, but Calcite merely nudged the filly closer to brothel mare. “Come on now, drink up,” he ordered gently. The filly needed no further instruction, and she made her across the floor with wobbly steps. Her head ducked beneath Tiger Lily and began to feed.

Tiger Lily’s mouth tightened but she made no moves to stop the foal. “You can wait outside,” she told Calcite. She wouldn’t meet his eyes, choosing instead keep her gaze locked on the door behind him. “I’ll call you when I’m finished.”

Calcite gave no sign of budging and instead gathered his robes. “I would prefer to watch.”

She gave him a suspicious look of loathing. “Why? Is this what gets your blood pumping?” the mare asked. “

“I’m paying you to feed her, not talk. Just do as you're told, and I'll be gone."

The mare fell into silence, and Calcite was grateful for it. The old stallion seemed to relax, but leaned back against the door for good measure. His eyes never left the foal as she fed.

The door was thrown open, attracting the attention of the entire population of Honeysuckle Inn. The wind blew in past a large figure in the doorway, letting in a burst of heavy rain before the wind blew back the way it came, slamming the door shut behind the stranger as the tavern stood still.

He walked with heavy footsteps up to the bar, speaking in a voice heavy with a foreign accent, "Just a glass of Crystal Quarry, if ye don't have that, simple water will suffice." The words came from a menacing beak, peaking out from under the hood of the heavy cloak, a large scar running down one side.

"Ah don't suppose you've heard any pleas for help lately? Any jobs that need doin?" This conjured a worried look from the bartender as he served up a glass filled with crystalline liquid. "Now don't you worry none, laddy. I'm not the one ye should be fearin, it is those I seek to end that harbour ill will."

A deep chuckle came from the daunting voice, and the voice was given a face, as the stranger pulled his hood down, showing the head of a distinguished griffon. "I'm Otus. Otus Blackfeather. Some call me the Talon, perhaps you've heard of ‘im?"

After a moment of thought, the barkeeps face lit up, "Aye, just yesterday a group of griffon merchants passed through bearing stories of the Talon. Tell me, are they true?" Otus could tell he had truly been interested, because since he had been served his drink, the bartender had been polishing the same glass.

Otus gave another chuckle, "Most of them, though I can't claim they haven't been tampered a little." He gave a wink and downed the remaining half of his drink. "Ahhh, that hits the spot. Could ye fetch me a pitcher of water, laddy? And I'll share my stories with you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ah, that'll be it for the night, laddy. Ye got a spare room for an aging griffon?" He drank the last of his water and stood up, rearing up on his hindlegs to stretch-at least as far as he could under the lower ceiling of the ponymade tavern-resulting in a series of pops running down his spine. He gave a long sigh of relief as he set back to all fours and followed the bartender through to the available room.

"I'll be expecting some news tomorrow, laddy. And I'll be off." he said plainly as he tossed a small tinkling bag into the pony's hooves. "Good night." He dismissed any further conversation with a smile and gently shut the door behind him.

Examining the room he found himself in, Otus began dismantling his garb- starting with his quiver full of arrows and his beloved mirewood longbow, Thistle. Leaving his heavy cloak and leather tunic on a coat rack along with the quiver, Otus polished and oiled the bow, part of his nightly routine ever since he got her. "There there, Thistle. I've got ya." Lovingly storing his longbow in his quiver, the griffon finally turned to himself, straightening his feathers and brushing his fur. Finally, he was ready for bed.

Sweet and simple, a good way to start off sometimes. Five points to whoever can guess Otus' accent! Ten to the one that can guess the movie character he is inspired by (Hint: It came out last year.)

Crimson Flask panted hard as he ran through the rain. Through the dark night he could see the lighting of a small village. Rather than take the main road in, he went around, trying to find a less conspicuous entrance. He found a alleyway and rushed in it. As quiet as possible, he walked from one side of the alley to the other, peaking his head to look around.

"Okay, must be the main road." He whispered to himself. "And judging from those guards over there, this most be a earth pony territory." His eyes scanned the main road, locking on to a sigh entitled The Honeysuckle. "Well I found the inn."

He walked back into the shadows of the alley. Once there, he stood under part of the roof that was hanging a building, giving temporary shelter from the rain. He lifted off his large brim hat that he was wearing. He shook his mane, removing the excess rain off his head. Afterwards, his horn glowed as he opened his saddlebag, pulling out piece of cloth. He quickly tied it around his head, forming a headband. Using his hoofs again, he placed the hat on back of his head. However, unlike last time, his hat was sitting rather high and forward on his head, concealing his horn. He turned around and adjusted his cloak, making sure that his cutie mark was well hidden. Walking forward again, he set his eyes on the inn.

Crimson opened the door as quietly as possible as he slipped through, once done he made sure to close it just the same way. His eyes scanned around the lobby, gulping slightly as he found no other unicorns around. He walked over to the bar, taking a seat.

"Um, excuse me good sir." Crimson said as he waived his hoof slightly.

The bartender turned around, looking at the pony waving a hoof.

"I would like to rent a room for the night if that is possible," Crimson said with a slight smile, trying to look non-threatening.

The bartender moved his eyes up and down, staring at Crimson. "What is wrong with your hat?"

Crimson gulped slightly. He titled his head, showing the side of his head and the cloth that was wrapped around it. "Suffered a nasty wound recently, had to wear it like this so it wouldn't keep rubbing against them."

"So why you still wearing it?" the bartender said with a raised eyebrow.

"Well funny thing, it is stuck there for the moment." Crimson chuckled.

"Stuck?"

"Yes," Crimson continued. "Even when I put the bandages on, wound was not fully closed. So during that time it continued to bleed as I was traveling through the rain. It eventually stopped as it formed a clot, but problem is the clot is also stuck the front end of my hat. I am afraid if I remove it now, it would just re-open the wound and make a mess. I would rather not want to make a mess on your bar."

The bartender scrunched up his face in thought.

Quickly, Crimson reached back into his cloak using his hoof a placed a few gold coins on the counter. "I can pay now and I promise I won't make a mess," Crimson replied flatly.

The bartender grabbed the coins with his hoof. "Fine. But if that is the case don't you think you should see a doctor?"

Crimson ears flicked. "Why, is there one here in town?" he asked.

"Nope," the bartender replied as he started to walk away.

"I see," Crimson replied as he followed the bartender to his room.

The bartender led him to a room. "Here he replied. Though if you plan on traveling, it doesn't look like the rain going to clear up. Blasted peagsus screwing with us."

"Thank you for the information," Crimson replied as he opened the door, "but now I must call it a night. Have a goodnight yourself.

The bartender nodded as the door gently closed.

First time doing anything like this. Hope it holds up.

Grey hooves met the squelch of dark brown mud as a cloaked and hooded figure made her way into the borders of the small Earth Pony village. A small settlement that was bound to have some paying work. The figure's belly grumbled loudly amongst the sounds of the crashing rainfall. The mare grumbled back with some illiterate musings of a madmare. "I sure wish it would stop doing that..." the feminine voice mumbled to herself. "I haven't eaten in 3 days, I've been through worse."

In a way, she supposed, the rainfall was a blessing. Considering the attachment on her forehead, her anonymity was key to her survival in some places. Especially some of the Earth Pony villages; ones that had had Unicorn's demand their crops for the measly task of throwing around celestial bodies.

'What's wrong with me?' She accused herself, the cloak surrounding her body doing little to help on the rain front, feeling like it was soaking through to her very bones. 'I'm not usually this grumpy..'

She was pulled from her musings of the sound of the rustle and bustle of other ponies. Looking up, she noticed a nearby building, a small sign entitling it as The Honeysuckle. Before her mud-caked hooves could stop her, she had barged through the rackity door, almost slamming it back closed with her hooves.

She frowned. It had taken a long time for her to break the tradition of using her magic for everything. To pick things up, to open and close doors, to read and write. It was a hard transition.

Pulled out of her musings once again, she noticed quite a few eyes on her shivering, soaking wet form. Luckily, the hood of her cloak was still strapped over her head, hiding her immediate appearance. Darting her gaze back and forth at the many eyes, she squeaked out a barely audible "... Sorry." before trudging quickly towards the front desk.

It was then she felt the comforting embrace of a crackling fire. It had been too long since she'd experienced warmth, so she stood at the bar, her cloak slowly dripping rainwater onto the floors as an unstoppable blissful smile crossed her expression

"Miss?" A voice called out from in front of her, clipped and annoyed. "Do you want something?"

This time, she didn't jump out of her skin at the sudden new situation. In an intentionally quiet voice she set about trying to forge her personality. "Um, yes please. A glass of water and the price of an empty room."

The barman set about getting her a cup with water in it, mumbling about the prices. As soon as the clay cup was placed in front of her, the mare froze. She already knew she only just had enough money to pay for the water and the room, it was just a point of whether she would risk the idea of whether she might be able to get paid work soon.

She flicked a bag of money at the barman, fitting her mud caked hooves to grasp the water, downing it and ignoring the slight earthy tang behind it. As her head tilted back to drink, the barman saw her silvery eyes, and the dryer grey fur hidden under the cloak. Her mane was pushed back to hide the dull violet strands. As she lowered the cup back down the bartop, her face was obscured by the cloak once more. "That should be enough. I shall see myself to my room now."

Before the barkeep could object, she quickly trotted towards the residential area, once thing left branded onto her mind.

'Did he see my horn? Did he suspect anything?' She mentally panicked. 'Pull yourself together Pinpoint, everything's going to be fine.'

1076633
At the instant when the mug half-empty of diluted ale slammed onto the table, it has been five months, twelve days, three hours, and forty-eight minutes since Smart Cookie has last gazed upon the warm light of the sun. The earth pony mare with a dull coat, and even duller choice of garbs sat in the corner of the Honeysuckle Tavern while she gently manhandled her drink. Her ears flicked in agitation every few minutes when some rowdy ponies shouted or sang at the top of their lungs, or when somepony deemed it fit to make a dramatic entrance into the tavern.

However, she saw no reason to look up. Cookie's eyes were trained on a small file of parchments in front of her. 'New Reports', its title read. She can't help but chuckle bitterly each time she saw it, for its content in recent times were hardly new. Clouds continually cover the sky so thick that it blocks out the sun. Said clouds hurling down rain, hail, snow, and the stars knows what else. Mass crop failures. More impossible food quotas. Rumors of farmers hording food or even planning open rebellion. After the first two pages, she let the parchment slide from her hoof with a heavy sigh.

While Cookie massaged her eyes, she spotted something very peculiar. A peguses. A very well decorated peguses officer at that. It's the first time she saw one doing what seemed like simple fieldwork that seemed more fitting for a somepony of a much lower rank. Something is not adding up here, she thought while watching him sort out paperwork in the middle of an angry crowd. Deciding that no answers are going to come from staring, she took one final swig of her ale and trotted over to the peguses's table.

"Nice weather outside, ain't it?" Cookie said flatly, "Yah got some gall to come to these here parts at a time like this. What with all the, ahh, discontent the locals bear for you. Must be one heckuva adherence to duty your kind are known for. I admire that. Name's Smart Cookie. Now what brings a high and mighty officer like you to our humble little town?"

Alright, here's my intro. Hopefully, it's not too horrendous. Oh, and interaction time! Do you think we should reference anyone we're interacting with?

1087440
"No coins nor exchange o' gifts needed," Cookie said with a practiced smile, "Though you may have a fine mug of mead on me if yer interested. Everypony seems to need one nowadays."

Cookie shifted her weight to get more comfortable on the chair. She took that opportunity to take a brief glance at the ponies around her. Most of the ponies seemed to have gone back to mind their business, though some are still taking a brief glare at both of them. She raised an eyebrow at the griffon, which is now in the middle of an telling of one of his undoubtedly dynamic tales. Satisfied, she turns back to the peguses she still doesn't know the name of.

"Now, I just want to talk. Yah see, it's somewhat of my job to know about any foreign interests within our border. Whenever the Empire sends one of their best for weather work, we'll know somethin's wrong. Well... we already did, since that two week o' rain an' snow yah gave us spoiled most of the southern region's crops." Cookie simply chuckled at the statement. "If I didn't know any better, I'd guess you'd were tryin' to turn us into seaponies!"

"But on a serious matter, we just wanna know why. I've seen many lives ruined by the crazy weather, an' if they ain't gettin' an answer... well... we may be lookin' at a full on chaos in the coming months."

Ah, I don't mind short posts at all. I can't really make too much of a long one myself.

1089381

A slight frown flashed across Smart Cookie's face at the mention of the question. Noticed anything unusual about the storms? Shouldn't the pegusi of all ponies already know? Why do they need our accounts on something they're suppose to be managing? Curiouser and curiouser...

She recomposed herself before answering, "Happy to make yer acquaintance, Commander Waver. Perhaps it's time to make my prim and proper introduction. I'm Smart Cookie, State Secretary of the Earth Kingdom, appointed by the Chancellor herself," she added with a note of pride.

"Though that name Waver does wrangle some bells in my noggin. Did you by any chance participate in the Battle for Smokey Mountain? Commander Hurricane had some fine things to say about yer bravery, 'specially when those diamond dogs went funny in the head and woke up a feathering dragon from the caves... oh... oh my stars, I do have a tendency to ramble, don't I?

"For yer question, I don't see what we can give to y'all that you don't already know yourself. Been pouring non-stop in the southern region and been snowing non-stop in the northern region for up to months at a time. Not to mention violent storms, hurricanes, and tornadoes that goes wherever they fancy. Them village folks also tells about seein' spirits and ghosts in those clouds, but that's probably a trick o' the lightning. Most of the time, they've been blamin' you for the broken weather and us govm't types fer not convincing y'all to fix it.

"Now, if I may ask a question, what out of the gates of Tarturus is going on in the Pegasi Empire?"

1089381>>1090598

Muffled hoofsteps in the slow business of the establishment allowed Pinpoint to make her way to a table with relative stealth. She still felt the occasional pair of eyes focus on her small, hooded form as she slowly made her way over, causing her to visibly shrink under the scrutiny of somepony's gaze. It only served to make her quicken her steps slightly, seeking the comfort of an independent table.

As soon as she sat down, she tilted her head in a fashion that allowed her eyes full reign around the large room, but so her hood still hid the boney horn on her forehead, and casted her silvery eyes in a dim shadow. From there, she did what she did best - pick out small details.

A small amount of guilt filled her system as her gaze looked towards the floor. Her previously mud-caked hooves had left a trail of what could easily been seen as her own hoofsteps. Not wanting to dwell on her own guilt, she turned her inquisitive eyes to the other patrons of the tavern.

Anyone could spot her conspicuous actions, and many did, shooting her a brief glare when their eyes briefly met. Pinpoint responded with practiced indifference and hidden fear. She did notice a few strange details, though. All of the Earth Pony's in the tavern seemed to be talking amongst each other in hushed tones that her untrained ears couldn't hear. Her eyes noticed a recurring words being quietly spoken. 'Rain'

'Yes, the rain's annoying, nothing to get in a tizzy about.' she absently thought as she continued to look around. Her gaze found a strange sight, however. She just noticed an Earth Pony mare trot over to what seemed to be military personnel. From what she could gather from her ineffectual position, she had a dullened orange coat, a straw coloured mane on top.

The other pony was harder to discern from her position and the armour that he wore. He had a grey coat, much like her own, but was a few shades darker. His inescapable eyes were a blue, though the distance that was between them rendered her ability to discern the shade of blue null. His mane, although obviously slightly flattened by the helmet sat next to him, was a darker grey. Further searching found him to be a Pegasus under the metal he wore.

The problem wasn't that they were speaking - In fact, she staunchly encouraged multi-ethnic relations. It was of the demeanour they both held. The mare seemed to be of higher government when considering her own garb, seeming to be friendly but genuinely interested.

The Pegasus, on the other hand, seemed to be speaking in short, clipped tones. His gaze seemed to be speaking volumes more than his actual words.

She was so vested and interested in what they were doing and talking about, that her gaze remained locked in their general direction, fully unaware that she was right in the line of sight of the intimidating Pegasus.

Sorry for barging in, you have full right to ignore her ;p.

There was a light squelch as the hoof falls dug into the muddy ground. A pony cloaked from hooves to ear with a pair of saddlebags trudged through the heavy rain, silently cursing everything for her rotten luck. This was the north, it was supposed to snow, not rain. The mare, for that was what she was, let out a huff and trotted on down the muddy dirt road. Her map didn't reach this far north, so it was a stroke of luck when her sensitive eyes caught the faint glimmer of glowing light in the distance. She'd immediately made for the lights, finding an earth pony settlement within a few hours of travel.

The roll of her eyes at the two guards posted by the gates went unseen due to the hood covering her face. She was far enough away that the guards hadn't seen her which helped her a bit. Her ruby red eyes flickered and her form disappeared, the darkness around her concealing her every feature. She trotted on, thankful that the heavy rain obscured the sound of her hooves pressing against the mud beneath her. She managed to get behind the guards before she was forced into the light of the torches, causing her concealment to be dispelled. She hurried onward, slipping around the corner of a nearby building.

That was way too close. They stood so close I almost bumped into one of them.

The mare made her way through the streets, keeping herself partly concealed in the shadows. Don't want to spend too much energy on staying invisible.
After about five minutes of wandering around blindly she found what she was looking for.

The Honeysuckle Inn, really? Whoever founded it must've been a fan of mead. That, or he liked breastfeeding. Heard it tastes sweet as well.

She lightly tapped her shooed hooves on wall besides the door, ridding them of the majority of the mud caked on them. She then craned her neck and opened one of the saddlebags halfway. She looked down, her sky blue quill and small leather-bound book were still there, easily within reach.
The cloaked pony pushed the door open with her head, not wanting to reveal her armour just yet.
Upon entry she made a quick scan of the room. Majority: Earth Ponies. Minority: A single Pegasus and one indeterminable form in a cloak. She made her way to the bar, waving over the bartender with a nod of her head.

"Yes?" He asked with some amount of trepidation due to her forehead being concealed.

She dipped down into her saddlebag and brought forth her notebook, placed it on the table, then grabbed the quill in her mouth and started writing.

"Mead? Room, price?" It said.

"Why don't you just talk like everypony else?" He asked again, trying to catch a glimpse beneath her hood.

"Mute. Can't speak. Mead, room price?" She had her eyes downcast the entire time, making sure never to make eye contact.

The Bartender grunted and mentioned the price for both, as well as bringing her a mug of mead. She took the band in her teeth and craned her neck to place it on her back, then threw a few golden coins on the counter and with a nod, went down a deserted table after stuffing the quill and book back in her saddlebags. She carefully set down the mug down on the table and sat down as well, her eyes roaming the room with far more care this time. She gained a few stray glances but it was not to be unexpected, she was a hooded stranger afterall.

1090733
Her gaze fell upon the cloaked figure again. She kept looking at the figure, her eyes concealed by the hood for just about anypony but the few that sat in the direct trajectory of her gaze. If anypony were to look up and meet her eyes, they'd see a pair of blood red irises with slitted pupils.

Her gaze lingered, though the faint sound of a debate caught her ears, one that wasn't as rowdy as any other. Her eyes trailed towards the sound and what she saw made her eyebrows rise. 1091626>>1090598

That's unusual, an earth pony and pegasus chatting together? Huh...

She looked back to the cloaked form, noticing how it seemed to look at the very same mis-matched duo. I wonder...

1090733 1091626

Smart Cookie let out a frustrated sighed under her breath. She doesn't like this one-way flow of information one bit. Either Flag Waver was just as uninformed about the weather as she was, or he was holding something vital from her. Cookie couldn't decide which possibility had worse implications. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to drink before striking up this conversation, she mused to herself.

"Prone to exaggeration?" she decided to answered, "Sure, some of 'em might enjoy telling tall tales, but most of 'em here are simply honest, hard working folks. Wouldn't tell a crooked story when they know it mattered."

"Now fer the spirits and ghosts," she continued with a sheepish scratch behind her neck, "I shouldn't have mentioned it. Like I said, trick o' the lightning, we do bad enough without spreadin' a foal's spook story.

"But, 'pparently, even this ended up causin' more trouble. There's this group o' mad ponies that believes these spirits are some masters of the sky. 'Cult of the Wendigos' they call 'emselves. Says that the pegusi ain't managin' the weather no more, and instead of growing food, they should appease these spirits to lift the never-ending snow an' rain. Problem is, with more of these desperate ponies an' with no end to these problems, this cult has been growin' more an' more powerful.

"They've been very aggressive in recruitin' our... our..." Smart Cookie trailed off as she noticed Flag Waver periodically becoming distracted, peering at something behind her every few seconds. She carefully looked over her own shoulder, and nearly jumped when her eyes met a hooded figure looking right at them and then immediately away.

"Hold that thought," she said to Flag Waver, "We seem to have ourselves a pair of curious eyes an' ears." She pulled up from the table, spun around, and briskly approached the mysterious pony.

1091626>>1092949

Pinpoint's inner machinations of fear rose when she saw the stallion's gaze flicker towards her. She'd been spotted, and she mentally berated herself for that fact. Past the initial obscured feared expression, she tried to get her emotions in order. In doing so, she attempted to soften her gaze.

A niggling doubt hard-set in the back of her mind told her that 'It's not enough.' and that 'He probably wants to rough me up in the back rooms now.. For looking at him wrong.'

Her first mistake was not looking away from duo, her fears intensifying as she finally found the face of the mare. Rapidly approaching her, at least in Pinpoint's accelerated imagination, the Earthen mare trotted towards her with a gait of practiced determination. Her hooves was glued to the floor, the only thing stopping her from scarpering was a subconscious need to know what they were talking about.

So, she continued to look at them both, making no sudden movements to hint towards a lack of a need for violence. The only movement, she did slowly, her hooves moving to her hood, and pulling it down slowly. The tattered cotton cloth of the black cloak rubbed against the tip of her horn, eliciting a small unwanted glow to from the tip. It briefly illuminated it her forehead in a silvery aura as she cursed it.

Once the Earthen mare was within reasonable talking distance, she spoke two simple words.

"... I'm sorry?"

1092137

Pinpoint's gaze suddenly had a need to look anywhere but at the Pegasus stallion and the approaching mare. Her gaze led her to a nearby table to the right of her centric gaze. Therein she saw another figure shrouded in a black cloak, though it was obviously less worn in than her own.

Though her eyes could see that in her peripheral vision, her eyes were focused on one striking feature - The ruby red eyes of a draconic being. Her hooves which were previously relaxed and laying on the table in front of her clenched at the sight of the glowing eyes, a sharp intake of a breath of a gasp shuddering through her system.

She looked up at the mare that was now thoroughly transfixed on Pinpoint. She put on an apologetic smile as she fibbed slightly. The stress mixed with a slight anxiety caused her to stutter all over her words. "S-sorry, thought I just saw d-death."

1093061>>1092949>>1091626
Spotted. The single word reverberated through the mare's head, sending warning chills down her spine and through the pair of appendages attached to it. The sudden eye contact caused her to stiffen, the sides of her cloak puffing out in a slight movement before settling back to just hang limply around her body again.

She breathed a quiet sigh when the other cloaked figure turned away from her, instead focusing its gaze on the earth pony looming above. The mare noted that said earth pony had yet to see her despite the obvious look sent her own way. Though, even if the earth pony was to notice her and her... "slightly" different eyes, there was hope that she wouldn't be judged immediately seeing as there had been a small peaceful chat between her and the pegasus.

She could see that the other cloaked pony said something, but whatever words she had uttered had their head held underwater and drowned mercilessly in the verbal tides of the other patrons laughing, singing or talking.

Wonder what they're saying. She wondered, picking up the tree mug between her hooves and leaned back in her chair, taking a gulp of the its contents. A small smile spread across her lips as the taste registered on her tongue. There's a reason this place is called the 'Honeysuckle' it seems.

Her eyes had never left the earth pony and the cloaked pony, constantly watching them from beneath the brim of her hood. I have no clue why I'm so interested in those two... Oh well, may as well try and get a little coin while I'm here. Plenty of ponies, should bring in a few.

She set the mug back on the table and then dug down into her saddlebags. She re-emerged moments later with a long silvery instrument held between her teeth. Upon close inspection, one might notice the pair of borderline fang-like canines protruding from her upper jaw. The instrument turned out to be a flute. The mare spit it out into her hooves, closed her eyes and let the hood fall back, revealing her face, and raised it to her lips and started to play.
What onlookers didn't know, however, was that the movements made by her hooves across the flute were just for pretense, the small holes on top were, in truth, covered by her telekinetic magic. Sure, it wasn't capable of lifting much more than her book and quill, but it was enough to lift and help her play with the flute at the same time. Too bad she had to pretend to do it earth pony style.

1091626>>1093061>>1097525

Smart Cookie approached the cloaked figure thinking that he or she was just another poor being that just happened to listen in on the wrong conversation at the time. She looked absolutely terrified!

"I'm sorry?" the mare said as Cookie, amused, met up with her. The mare took a fidgety glance to her right and then looked at Cookie in the eye. "S-sorry, thought I just saw d-death."

The hairs on Cookie's coat stood on end, her muscles tightened, and her heart started to race. Did she just deliver a threat? She quickly shot her eyes in the cloaked mare's brief glance. There it is: another shadowy, hooded figure. She started to perspire heavily. Ohmahlawdy, this is it... Someun's hired hitmares tah take me out!

"Uh, howdy, stranger," she said to her with a plastered smile, careful not to make any sudden moves, "I couldn't help but notice that you're, uh, unusually interested in our little discussion." She took another brief glance at the other shadowy, hooded figure, who've now inexplicably taken out a flute and started to play on it. Is she signaling something? She kept her eyes and ears peeled, there's no doubt other dark, cloaked, mysterious assassin-ponies waiting in the shadows like her. She then turned back to the first cloaked mare and nervously asked, "She a friend of yer's?" She inwardly facehoofed. Best way to diffuse an ambush is to NOT tell them you spotted their ruse, she berated herself.

Cookie looked back at Flag Waver with a pained expression. Help!

1097897>>1093061
The mare was so lost in the tune of the music that she did not hear Smart Cookie speak at first. The tune had started out slow, taking quick pauses after a few tunes, then starting up again. It kept going like this for a time before it reached a small pitch where it deepened a little, the tunes getting more drawn-out.
It kept an even pace for the first half minute before it sped up to a more joyous tone then immediately went discordant, only to go back into a harmonious tone. It was a strange piece, and one of those that the flutist herself wasn't very good at, but it served its purpose.

"She a friend of yer's?" The words were spoken with a heavy accent, one she hadn't heard before in all of her travels. She stopped her playing and cracked one eye half open, not quite revealing her slitted pupils though the ruby colour was easy to spot still, and looked up at the pony. She was a dark yellow earth pony with a blond mane and tail tied into a single bundle by a pair of mane ties.

She put the flute on the table and bent down to her saddlebags again, fishing forth her small leatherbound book and quill. She placed the book on the table and picked the quill up in her mouth, writing a few words on a blank page.

"She an I are not acquainted," She showed it to Smart Cookie and looked up briefly, her eyes fully showing. "Hello, might I ask who you are?"

I forgot to add a little about how she looks save for eye colour: A blue-grey coat with a deep blue mane of semi-length, and an unkempt hair-do. And I apologize for small post... Not very much I could really write xP

1097897>>1098150>>1098218

Pinpoints perceptive eyes noticed the mares discomfort around her, and her mind served to connect the dots. Her hooded cloak had done the same sort of unintentional intimidation before, and her wording of exasperation did seem rather strange coming from a strange mare.

Trying not to cause a scene, and attempting to soothe her own panicking emotions, she tried to focus on the fidgeting mare, blocking out the distracting sound of the flute that had started up in the background. She kept her tone level and soft. "I'm not here to hurt you." She stated bluntly, pushing the hood of her cloak back to reveal her silvery eyes. Her horn still remained obscure alongside her ears, but the hints of dull violet tresses could be seen. Something about tradition told her that if she didn't obscure her face as much, she may be more prone to trust.

"I'm sorry that I was staring, I get that a lot." She added, her voice lowering to try as to not gain attention from the surrounding ponies. The flute music seemed to be doing its job in keeping everypony's collective attentions. "But.. It's just.. Back where I've come from, and all the places inbetween, Pegasi and Earth Ponies have never had the best relations. To see you both talk so civilly.. It's strange, to say the least."

She looked to the larger Pegasi, dwarfing her being in every sense of the term. She hesitated for a moment, staring deep into his eyes for the telltale sign of a fib, however small. "... You don't need to make up excuses for her. It's my fault that she'd garner an interest in my actions, not some strong sense of inebriation."

She stumbled over her words as she quickly stuttered "B-but I'm not a bad pony, I swear!" She heaved a heavy sigh, looking down for a second. "Miss Pinpoint. That's my name." She gave no indication that she wanted the charity of alcohol from a stranger, but neither did she outwardly object to it.

She had since noticed the introduction of the red-eyed mare. Her eyes never once darted towards hers, but she noticed and quickly read the note placed in front of Earthen mare. She nodded tersely in agreement with the words. "I've never met anyone in this little village. I don't even know it's name."

1098150 1098218 1098259

I swear, Kapuchum, are you are trying to make Smart Cookie's heart pop?

Faced with the approaching cloaked menace number two, Smart Cookie tensed up and took several steps back, before that mare brought out a book and scribbled something for her to read. "She an I are not acquainted. Hello, might I ask who you are?" it read. She chose that exact moment to show her demonic, slitted eyes.

Smart Cookie considered herself an experienced pony. She has traveled from the forests of Unicornia, to the mountains of the Peguses Empire, and over the highlands of the Griffon Kingdom, and she has seen many weird, wonderful, and downright scary things. None of it prepared her the predatory gaze set upon so close to her.

She reared up and let out a "GUAAAAA-Ooof!" She just felt a heavy whack across her back causing her to swallow her whinny and gag for a good few seconds.

"Forgive my talkative companion here, she has been hitting the mead a little too much. Pardon us for the misunderstanding," said that low broad voice behind her. "Perhaps Secretary Cookie could make up for it by offering you the same mug of drink she offered me."

Flag Waver gave Smart Cookie a knowing look while she, with her face turning deep red, just returned a death glare.

But she conceded that he had a point. If they wanted to kill her, she would be joining her parents by now. Her eyes still flicker towards the slitted eyes. Is that some sort of pony illness? she can't help but ask herself.

Cookie waited until they have gave their introductions before cleared the last of the phlegm from her throat, "Why yes, I do thank you very much Miss Pinpoint. Fer the record, let us never speak of this again. Now, yes, introductions. I'm Secretary Smart Cookie and this hoodlum here is Commander Flag Waver. We were having an, ahhh, simple diplomatic exchange. Yah see, we're use to dealing with other races." Some better than others... she added mentally. "Now fer yer other question, yer in Trottingham, jewel of the southwestern region. 'pparently also the future site of a brand new ocean.

"Now I havetah ask, are y'all lost? From where do you hail?"

Being a species which comprises of a mix of avian and feline DNA, Griffons never have to sleep long to recover a lot of energy. A mere four hours after retreating into his room, Otus had awoken hungry. Leaving his equipment under lock and key in his room, the griffon made his way back downstairs to the tavern.

Approaching the bar once more, Otus glanced around the room, assessing any changes that came during his nap. Upon his observations everything seemed calm enough. Satisfied there was no imminent danger he turned to the barkeep, “‘Ay laddy, don’t suppose you have any salmon, do ye?”

The deadpan stare in return confirmed a stolid ‘no’. “Oh, worth a shot. What have ye got on the menu then?”

The barkeeper seemed to deflate a little, “In all honesty, Otus, I’ve not got much. These damn storms ‘aven’t stopped for neigh on three months! Not always rain, mind you. There’ve been snowstorms too, that’s a worse lot if you ask me. I can’t offer you much, how about some oats?”

Otus frowned, his homeland was well known for months-long snowstorms, though it didn’t rain. He wasn’t sure what to make of the barkeep’s statement, but he locked the information away for later inspection. “I guess it’ll have to do then.” He threw a couple bits onto the counter and turned once more to his observation of the tavern, looking more closely this time, listening to the collective murmurs of the ponies gathered in the inn.

Had some free time today... wrote out a short post to allow a clean entry into the scene for Otus. I finish school tomorrow!

1098218>>1098259>>1100089
The pegasus behind Smart Cookie spoke, and said Earth Pony reared up like a frightened animal and fell down on her haunches with a thump thanks to the whack that the pegasus gave her. It was all she could do to hold back her laughter, and a loud guffaw, albeit sounding slightly off, escaped her lips. The laughter forced her mouth open for a moment or two, showing off the noticeable pair of canines that came down from her upper jaw. She quickly regained her composure, however, as that she was fully showing her eyes was enough of a risk.

Luckily, however, there were a lot of laughing among the other patrons, making hers almost inaudible. The only ones that really had a chance to see it was Smart Cookie, Pinpoint and the pegasus. She was about to write something more in her book when she noticed that her quill had fallen down on the floor. An annoyed expression crossed her face, she didn't really feel like having it in her mouth anymore now that it had been on the ground.

Oh well... If it comes to it, I can always hide in a shadowy corner.

She looked down at the quill on the floor and for just a moment, it seemed as if a light ignited inside her eyes. The quill got surrounded by a hardly visible grey aura with a blue hue to it. It probably wouldn't be visible from more than a meter or two away, so only the three ponies around her could possibly notice it. Sitting back up properly, she let the quill hover back up and scribbled another few words in the book and showed it to the earth pony.

"You seem startled?"

Maaaybe :3 Who knows? She should probably lay off the cookies a little if she wants to avoid a stroke

1101654

She did take the hood off, just FYI

1101734

This post. Last paragraph, third line.

1101787

True...

1100089>>1100602>>1101654

Pinpoint seemed to shrink in her seat, currently the only one at a lower position due to being sat. When all of them had a slight air of restrained readiness for combat about them, it served to make herself rather uncomfortable. 'I wonder if I sink down low enough, I can just escape out from under the table...' She absently thought to herself.

Using her hooves to push herself back up her seat, she took stock of the ponies around her before responding to Smart Cookie's introductions, attempting to calm herself and acclimatize to soothe her nerves. She noticed that Flag Waver was trying to distance himself from needing to speak, but not distancing himself from the conversation. 'Perhaps an ulterior motive is in play?'

"That makes sense.." She absently mumbled, aware that Smart Cookie's attention may be more focused on the weird-eyed mute, "Uhm.. I come from Unicornia." She mumbled just as quietly, not wanting to pull much attention to herself. She absent-mindedly reached for her hood and pulled it forward as her ears perked to try hear for mutterings about her.

Hearing none, she looked back up to Smart Cookie, "I guess you're from here. Trottingham, I think it was?" She kept silent, knowing her social anxiety was probably about to kill the conversation, "What about you two?" She posed to the other two, looking more towards Flag Waver than the other unnamed pony.. thing.

She was fed up of talking up to the others, so she stood to her four aching hooves, taking stock of the height differences of the other individuals. Needless to say, she was rather dwarfed. If she stood up straight and positioned her horn high in the air, the tip of her horn would've only just reached the bottom of Flag Waver's ears.

1100491

There was something amiss in her previous scan of the area. Her mind was wondering what it was, until something niggling in the back of her mind said it was somewhere near the bar.

There it was. A Griffon. She had learned of their existence through some of her studies in what was given of Unicornia's education system. Seeing one in real life was beautiful, mesmerizing, awe inspiring.

And scary. Never forget about scary.

1101820>>1101959>>1100089>>1100491
One of her sensitive ears flicked towards the bar itself, registering a foreign sound. It wasn't the usual clip clop of hooves, nor the beat of wings. Not even the flash and pop from teleportation. It was a strange clicking sound against the floorboards mixed with the soft padding of something that sounded fleshy.
A quick glance towards the bar confirmed her suspicion; A gryphon.

Haven't seen one of them in a while. She thought to herself, raising a single eyebrow as the only evidence of her surprise. She otherwise looked disinterested. The noctus then turned back to Smart Cookie, mister chicken-wing and the scaredy-pony. She noticed with some surprise, yet again the eyebrow being the only sign of it, that the only stallion among them did not seem startled by her "peculiar" appearance at all.

She scribbled another few words down on a piece of paper, ripped the page out of the book then folded it twice and threw it at the pegasus. If he didn't catch it, it'd hit him on the snout. And in all seriousness, he would be a very lousy commander thing -if his shiny stuff was anything to go by- if he would let himself get hit by a projectile no matter what sort it was. Be it a harmless piece of paper of an arrow from a bow.

Once it was "delivered", she turned her attention back to Smart Cookie, patiently awaiting her answers. The pegasus was momentarily forgotten, the "predatory" gaze focused solely on the earth pony.

On the paper thrown at the pegasus was written the following: "You do not seem so surprised by my eyes. I take it you know of what I am?"

When one is sitting quietly minding his own business while he waits for his food to arrive, it is easier to notice things. Especially that feeling, the feeling where you get the idea that someone, somewhere, is watching you. Otus found he was suddenly the recipient of that feeling, when he looked around to confirm as much, he found that three peculiar figures were in fact, staring at him. One with awe-infused fear, one with an almost amused look, and finally one with indifferent boredom. He gave them a nod and a smile, and they seemed to continue going about their business.

Curious, I wonder what’s so interestin about me? Perhaps they never seen a Griffon before? Maybe an introduction is in order. At that moment, his toasted oats arrived. Hmm. I can’t make decisions over an empty belly now, I’ll decide over a nice meal. With that, he shrugged and dug in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One bowl of toasted oats and glass of water later, Otus decided to make a move. He didn’t want to potentially make any enemies. Making his way through the thinning crowd, the griffon approached the group of ponies, taking note of each one. An avian. One Earthling. A child of magic, judging by the smaller stature and high cheekbones. And what do you know? A carnivore! Just look at those canines! Nothing quite like a beak, but still impressive all the same.

Smiling, Otus gave an introduction, “Evening! Name’s Otus. Otus Blackfeather. I hail from the Northern Grif Kingdoms. Couldn’t help but notice your interest in me before, is there anything I can help you with?”

For those who haven’t guessed, Otus is ‘Scottish’. The Scots were very talented archers in what I would consider earth’s equivalent time period to this setting, and I haven’t done a european character yet, so I thought I’d give it a go. As for the character he’s inspired by, it’s Fergus, from Disney’s Brave.

1100602 1101654 1101820 1102642

When the slitted eyed mare stared using the quill like an unicorn to write in the notebook and showed her, "You seem startled?" Smart Cookie only looked blankly at the quill and then up at the mare in a thousand yard stare.

"Yah know, I know I shoulda been surprised by that, but the only suprisin' thing was that I'm not. I had my fill of gobbledygook kookiness for the night, and y'all could jus', heh heh, jus' sprout demon wings and fly off into the night an' I wouldn't even bat an eye! 'Course I'm startled! What are yah anyways?"

That is the same time Pinpoint chose to reveal her horn and her origin of heritage. Cookie took a deep breath. I need a drink, a cab, and a bed, and not necessarily in that order. If there is one more-

“Evening! Name’s Otus. Otus Blackfeather. I hail from the Northern Grif Kingdoms. Couldn’t help but notice your interest in me before, is there anything I can help you with?” said a boisterous voice to her left.

With a single look at the griffon newcomer, Cookie could simply take it no longer. She started snorting, doubled down to her rump, and slapped her knee, "Tehhheeeheeheehaha! Oh this's jus' rich. We're already havin' a world summit, an' y'all jus add a dragon an' a dog an' we'd have half o' all the critters under the mornin' sun!"

She giggled madly for a few more seconds before catching her breath and composed herself. "'Scuse me. Not everyday tha' I'd meet representatives from half the world in a tavern. Name's Smart Cookie."

Cookie took a moment to look around and said, "Now, I do believe we're attractin' undue attention, an' not jus' from mah little outburst but a moment ago."

She nudged her head at the other patrons, who've gone eerily quiet. Nearly all of their eyes are wide, staring at the extraordinarily mismatched group.

Bel was scared.

The little pegasi foal didn’t understand a word of what was going on, but she trembled close to the stallion’s back hooves, unwilling to part from his protective presence. All she knew is that the purple mare who was Not-Mommy was angry. She didn’t like angry.

“The little monster bit me!” Tiger Lily hissed, as she nursed her sore underbelly.

Calcite stood protectively in front of the foal, staring Tiger Lily down. “She’s teething,” he said calmly. “It’s not her fault. Her eating teeth are coming in. You’ll understand once that one starts,” he said with a nod to where Tiger Lily’s foal slept in his cradle. “Besides, it was just a little nip.”

“The little savage wanted blood, just like the rest of them,” the mare cursed, glaring daggers at Bel. The filly cowed and hid behind Calcite’s leg. Tiger Lily glared back up at stallion, her siler hair wild. “I want you gone. She’s fed, now get out.”

Calcite glanced back at his young ward. He knew she didn’t get much milk, and it could be another day till she had the chance to feed again. Calcite shook his head. “I’ve paid you just as much as if you were to lift your tail,” he argued. “Just let her finish. Please,” he begged.

“I said,” Tiger Lily growled through gritted teeth, “Get. Out.”

Calcite pursed his lips but wordlessly reached down and began to collect his things. Bel nudged his leg gently, her eyes still on Not-Mommy, her hunger written across her face.

With a slight huff, Tiger Lily laid back down onto the mound of cushions and began to count out the ill-gotten monies. Her hoof passed over golden coin after coin.

“I should’ve known coin would be wasted on a common tavern slut,” Calcite bitterly swore as he gathered his rags.

Tiger Lily’s face grew red. “You… you feather fucker! Blood betrayer! I said get out!” she shouted. Calcite ducked his head as a cushion was thrown his way. He gave her a dirty look.

“Quiet your tongue, mare,” Calcite whispered harshly. “Do you want the whole tavern to hear ye’?”

The mare gave a laugh short of hysterical. “Let them! Let them all hear! I’m not going to be blamed for this. I’m getting the Town Watch and they’re going to get rid of you and that brat.”

Her path was blocked by the stallion, who suddenly seemed more imposing than he had a moment ago. Tiger Lily looked up into his lined face, vacant of the weariness it had when he entered.

“No,” Calcite whispered softly. He was suddenly on her, pressing a hoof over her mouth. “You’re not.”

The foal in the cradle started crying.

The bar keeper slung drinks, talked with patrons, and cleaned the bar down. Buisiness was good, but the night just kept getting stranger and stranger. One table in particular seemed to be a magnet for the unfamiliars who walked through his door and they were a shady bunch if he ever saw one. Too many of them wore hoods for his liking. He would have called the guard already, but Secretary Smart Cookie seemed at ease in their company, and he trusted her judgment. Unless she said otherwise, he was inclined to leave them free to spend their bits.

The peaceful buzz of conversation was suddenly shattered as a piercing wail rang through the tavern. Somewhere in the tavern, a foal was crying.

Several patrons raised their eyes to ceiling, where the ear splitting cries was coming from. The stallion threw his rag down in disgust. “Hold your gullets, boys. I’ll be right back,” and made his way to the stairwell.

“Oi! Tiger Lily, get your brat to shut up! I have a full room here!” the bartender shouted up the stairs. The crying continued for another few moments, and then fell silent just as suddenly as it started.

The bartender gave a satisfied grunt and trekked back down the stairs. No doubt Tiger Lily had put her bastard to her bosom. With a smile glued to his face, he slid back behind the boor and uncorked a fresh bottle of mead for a nearby table.

“Now, who asked for the house special?”

”Hush-a-by, Don't you cry,
Go to sleep, close your eyes.”

The knife zipped along quickly across the surface, leaving a thin trail of red in its wake. The first layer was peeled back. The edge scraped at the coarser muscle and cartilage, pushing the useless flesh to the side.

“And with the sunrise,
You’ll have a surprise,”

His hoof slowly pumped against the cradle’s leg, rocking it in time as he sang. Inside, a lilac pegasus snuggled against blankets which were not hers. The previous owner would no longer need them.

“All the pretty little ponies.
Beryl and bay, Amythest and gray,”

A water skin was quickly drained of its contents, spilling uselessly against the floor. It wasn’t as though there was a lack of water outside. And if the ancestors smiled upon him and did clear the skies, any stream or pond would quench his thirst. Carefully he placed the tip and made his mark. A stream of precious white trickled into the container.

“All the pretty little ponies.
So hush-a-by, Don't you cry,
Go to sleep, my little gem.”

When the last drop was squeezed into the water skin, Calcite finished his grisly work in earnest. Then he took a step back and appraised the dead. Where at first there had only been a single incision, there was now a bloody mess of semi-connected, mangled pieces of flesh that he carved away savagely.

Any sign of his intent had been buried under butchery, and the only evidence of the culprit was a blackened feather in the center of the room, courtesy of little Bel. She had whimpered only a little bit when he plucked it from her growing wings. A few seconds over an open candle had robbed it of all color, and he had thrown it carelessly into spreading crimson.

Calcite wiped his knife against the cushions he had placed close by to soak up the mess. With it spotless, it vanished back into the confines of his rags, and the stallion began to redress himself. The water skin and its valuable cargo went on first, followed his coin purse which was considerably heavier than when he entered.

He stepped over a much smaller form and peered into the cradle at his charge. The foal’s chest rose and fell steadily, once again fast asleep. Calcite tenderly traced her face with his hoof, grateful she spent so much time resting. He knew that would not last for long. In a few months, she would be full of boundless energy and his job would be that much harder.

She stirred gently at his touch, and slowly opened her eyes, revealing two of the biggest, most beautiful eyes Calcite had ever seen in his life. Bel craned her neck upward and bopped noses with the old stallion. A smile crept onto the stallion’s lips and he nuzzled the foal back, but Bel did not seem to mind. She just continued to smile away.

“There’s my little lamb,” Calcite whispered gently, picking her scooping the foal into his hooves. He gently slid her back into the sling across his chest. She gave a short-lived whine of protest at being disturbed and buried her face against him, once again seeking sleep.

Careful not to step into the growing puddle, he tugged his rags over his head and hid the foal. To an observer, it was impossible to tell she was even there.

He gave a short passing glance over the two lumps before closing the door behind him. A moment of fiddling the lock with the tip of his blade had jammed it, and he crept back down stairs with a whistle on his lips.

The bartender gave him a nod as he passed by the bar. “You took your sweet time with her, didn’t ya? Enjoy yourself?”

“She was exactly what I was looking for,” Calcite answered as he took a seat. His face was calm, and his hooves steady. Nopony could prove anything and his tracks were covered.

“So was a roll in the hay all ye’ wanted tonight, or is there anything else that I can getcha?”

Calcite looked at the cauldron and licked his lips. “A bowl of whatever that is. I won’t deny I have an appetite… three days supplies if you can spare them.” A few golden bits were tossed onto the oaken surface, and the barkeep exchanged them with a steaming bowl.

“I’ll get those supplies for you as soon as I’m done this next round,” the barkeep replied. Calcite nodded and tipped his bowl back, breathing in the savory broth.

“The Greywatch didn’t happen to pass through here, did they?” Calcite asked before drinking deeply.
The barkeep raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Who?”

Calcite frowned and waved a dismissive hoof. It was no matter. He settled back and watched the rest of the bar, comforted by the filly snuggling against his chest.

1102037>>1102642>>1103448>>1103854

'That's it.' Pinpoint mentally declared, the lack of attention on her being giving her the excuse to be able to escape rather easily. She wasn't a solitary being by any stretch of the term, but when a group became a crowd, things were just a little too intimidating for her. She'd heard horror stories from each of the different races present, minus Smart Cookie. She frowned slightly, a few thoughts worming into her mind about the Unicorn's treatment and viewpoint of the Earth Pony race.

While they all introduced themselves to the newly appeared Griffon, she ducked out of the converdation, pulling her cloak back up to hide her horn more securely. 'Where could I go? I'm not wasting my starving alms on a full nights sleep..' Her eyes sought out the bar area, and how very few ponies occupied it. 'Perfect'.

Her hooves carried her over to the bar stalls, making no subtleties of her movements. The rest of the group would likely notice her absence rather swiftly, but she didn't care all that much. Unless they accosted her for being shifty. 'In that case, I might start running.'

1104852

She hopped up to one of the stalls, noticing the barpony's swift attention to her needs. She shot him a brief smile before waving a hoof in dismissal. She didn't need anything. She couldn't afford anything. Her hooves settles on the bar top to balance herself from falling off.

One thing that Pinpoint always found annoying about herself was that she observed almost constantly. She physically couldn't stop it. Put a slight sense of paranoia in the mix and it's almost unbearable how shifty she looks on the outside, constantly darting her eyes from left to right, up and down.

For now, she seemed to have it under control, only looking at the other patrons in the bar area. Her silver eyes settled on an Earth Pony that she sat near, several seats away. The natural colour in his coat and his mane was very weathered, and he seemed to carry around an air of unmitigated unkempt. And.. a smell of iron, she noticed. 'Probably a mining worker.' She assumed, 'Definitely seems the type.'

A small gurgling breathing sound was coming from his direction, though she couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was.

The candlelight near her was illuminating her hooded face rather than casting it in a musky shadow. As soon as her eyes met with his, she shot him a smile. She didn't want to make the same mistake twice, arousing suspicion.

1103448>>1105485>>1103854>>1104852

You're just asking for it Conicer...

Greetings, Otus Blackfeather, yada yada yada. Damned gryphons are never quiet. Doesn't help that some of them occasionally let out an earsplitting shriek that makes me want to hit my head with a sledgehammer just to make them stop. Gimme a bunch of zombies chasing me any day.

The Noctus was, to say the least, not amused by the gryphon opening his beak and talking. She shot him a venomous sideways glance that spoke of painful things if he so much as thought about shrieking. Before she caught the eyes of the gryphon, however, she looked back to the Pegasus just in time to see him winking at her, the paper note open in his hoof.

At the same time, Smart Cookie spoke, sounding pretty... not scared but a mix of that and what could border to temporary insanity.

" jus' sprout demon wings and fly off into the night." At this, she raised an eyebrow and smiled.

The quill touched down on another blank page of the book yet again, scribbling words with ink as black as the night itself, save for the fact that there were ink bottles or anything. As she wrote, her eyes trailed towards the sound of clip clop of hooves. A stranger earth pony came down from the stairs, carrying a lot of rags around him. She also noticed that Pinpoint had walked up to the bar, sitting not very far from the same stallion.

Not important. She thought to herself and looked down on the page again, the quill having stopped at her command.

She covered the lower most part of the message with her left hoof. The only visible part at the moment was: "That is not so far from the truth," she looked up to catch the eyes of Smart Cookie. With her right hoof she moved part of her cloak away to reveal a large patch of black on her side, starting just beneath her shoulder and stretching down to cover her flanks entirely and then some more. It was a massive wing, more like that of a bat than a bird, so large that it didn't take a genius to see that it would easily reach twice the size of a normal pegasus wing, even when it was kept tightly to her body. She quickly let the cloak fall in place again, making sure that nopony else saw it. She then smiled and removed her left hoof from the book, revealing the last of the message. She smiled widely, showing her long canines, "what if I said that I eat meat as well? My name is Adagio, by the way."

1103448>>1103854>>1105485

“What business does a griffon, a unicorn, and a noctus have in Trottingham?” The pegasus officer queried, quite bluntly.

Ignoring the unicorn’s disappearance, Otus was the first to speak up, “I don’t rightly ‘ave any business here, laddy. My lands have been suffering something terrible recently, even worse than usual, I tell ye. I simply wondered if your lands were suffering the same fate.” He gave a brief pause, “I grew up on a farm with my family, I know what it’s like to have farmland in this weather.”

Falling silent, Otus waited for the others to share their purpose in this town, sitting back on his haunches and resting his talons on his knees.

1106395

The pegasus scooted closer to Otus and in a low whisper began listing weather patterns and the citizens’ reactions. The tavern seemed to fade away as Flag Waver spoke, taking up the majority of Otus’ focus. This doesn’t sound good.

The accuracy of Flag’s estimation almost startled Otus. He had suspected a similar diagnosis to his home, due to the weather currently tearing through the sky, but he had not expected something so accurate. Even down to the spirits.

“Closer than even you might think.” Otus replied quietly with a frown, giving the pegasus a knowing glance. “Our lands are not known for their hospitable environs, though this weather is tough even on us.” Lowering his voice even further, “What do you know of these ‘spirits’? There is an old Grif legend, but I’d like to hear what you have to say before I indulge.”

Otus was fingering his room key, wishing he had taken his stuff with him. He feared a quick escape may be necessary, things just got serious, and he had a good idea what it was about.

1103854 1104852 1105485 1105638 1105652

Man Gell: Aye, sorry about the lack of attention, my character only has so much to give. Perhaps it's a good idea to split up the group to a more manageable size.
Dawnscroll: Holy Celestia...

The slitted eyed pony came up to her and brought another note to Smart Cookie's face. "That is not so far from the truth," it said, "what if I said that I eat meat as well? My name is Adagio, by the way."

Cookie smiled defensively and said, "Err, pleasure to make yer acquaintance, Miss Adagio. Now I know yer just tryin' tah scare me. Unless you noctus 're gonna try diggin' in on me, yah ain't gonna get any more ruffles outta this mare. The griffons 'ave always been meat eaters and we've been in an understandin' fer generations ever since the Great Giffonian Wars. And speakin' of griffons..."

Smart Cookie turns to the beaked newcomer and continued, "Pleasure to meet yah too, Mister Blackfeather. Glad to meet another fella raised with the discipline an' appreciation fer the grower's way.

"Sorry tah hear about the problems plaguin' yer homeland. Fer yer question..." Cookie took a long breath. She has been trying so hard to escape the harsh realities of her fellow earth ponies, even if it is only for an hour a week. "It's been nothin' but rain an' snow here too. Ruined over three quarters of our haul fer the winter. Everything's lookin' bad. Everypony 'ere has been blamein' the pegusi fer yoking this on us, but 'pparently they have no idea what's goin' on neither."

She heard a soft clip-clopping away as she glanced to Pinpoint retreating back to the bar, and taking an interest in a massive earth pony. Wonder if she's here for the same reason... Is it like this everywhere?

1106863

It's okay xD. Thought I'd just split it up before things got a little too convoluted.
Oh, and poor Smart Cookie, suddenly the attention of everyone :3.

1106863>>1106790>>1106880
yada yada yada. Bloody gryphons! Adagio silently cursed, wishing that she had a fair amount of string to tie together a certain beak in the room so that no sound would escape it. Or a garotte might work... I sometimes dislike having promised not to kill anything other than undead unless it was an absolute emergency, or if I'm payed to do so. Can this be counted as an emergency? Probably not.

She sighed looked at the pegasus that had asked her what she was doing in Trottingham, which apparently was the name of the town, and scribbled a few words in the book. She had chosen to use her mouth for writing again, letting her magic rest for the moment. She would by far prefer to simply use her magic to write, but it would be best not to show her abilities too much. Not very many ponies really knew of Noctus, and she had little doubts that the earth ponies in this tavern would be very happy to see a pony with massive bat wings. Not only would she be compared to pegasi whom were quite disliked here, and, not to brag, but she looked just a little scary to those that didn't know what she was.

"You asked what a Noctus is doing here? First let me say that I am impressed that you can recognise what I am. Not many know of our existence even south of the border, but for a northener like you to know of us, that is very rare indeed. As for you question, I'm a traveler, bounty hunter as well. I do what I'm payed to do, and if I am not payed to hunt, I hunt all things undead myself."

Having finished the note she spat out the quill and took a swig of her mead to get rid of the dirt she could taste on her tongue, she then folded the paper together and let it silently float over between the pegasus and the gryphon. It landed on the table between them and was nudged slightly towards the stallion.

Adagio picked up the quill and placed it between the pages of the book and snapped it shut, then leaned back in the chair with the mug between her hooves, slowly draining its contents with a swig every now and then.

Spectres, eh? Well, I'm not one to dismiss it. I do hunt those that are dead yet still walk. Who's to say ghosts don't exist as well?

1106995 1106790

Ah, whoops! It seems that Tsunami replied while I was working on my response. No wonder the timeline is messed up. And yeah, I'll go with your proposed timeline.

1107306 Oops... Sorry

1107084>>1106995>>1106863

“Ahh, you want to hear it now? Well, ye best get comfortable, this is a tale of some length.” The griffon noticed his fellow carnivore giving him a death glare, “Now now, don’ ye look at me like that lass, I have no qualm nor quarrel with ye, unless ye wish t’change that.”

Otus calmly returned Adagio’s stare until she relented, suffice it to say there was silence for a fair amount of time. Once their stare-off was over, he quickly returned to the matter at hand, “Right then! Back home, I learned of many things both fact and legend. One such legend was a tale of Asio Roebuck, and how he ended the last ice age.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Not going to tell the whole story here... as I have no clue what to write right now... maybe I’ll find some inspiration later on and write it out, and post it on our OOC thread. But for now, this’ll work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And so, Roebuck was titled the Bringer of the Sun. I don’t rightly know of any other legends containing such creatures... per’aps they ‘ave been dormant since then, until now, if they are what’s causing the ruckus outside. So what do you think?"

1107669>>1105485

With a satisfied gulp, the last of the scalding soup rushed down Calcite’s throat. He smacked his lips in satisfaction and held the bowl out to the barkeep.

“Hungry and horny, ain’tcha?” the stallion asked.

“You have no idea.” It was the truth. A day of begging left little time to put a mouthful between his lips.

“Looks like the storm was good for business,” Calcite remarked as the bartender refilled his bowl. The tavern was full and the mead was flowing, and with it came bits. The stallion snorted with a wry smile.

“Aye, but the damn roof will be leaking if the rain keeps up,” he scowled, looking up at the rafters. He pointed to a table in the back of the tavern. “That one o’er there? Most useless pegasus I’ve ever seen. Refuses to do jack about all of this, and his friends aren’t the sort I normally see around here.”

Calcite followed to where the bartender was pointing and was inclined to agree. There was an earth pony, a griffin, a pegasi commander, and a whole host of other ponies gathered in hooded robes. He didn’t deny that they were an odd gathering talking in subdued voices. Well, except for one griffon who seemed to be earnestly telling a tale.

“And so, Roebuck was titled the Bringer of the Sun,” the griffon finished grandly. Calcite snorted condescendingly. A bunch of nonsense if he heard any.

He wasn’t sure if they caught him staring, or had heard his scoff, but one of the figures removed themselves from the table and made their way over to the bar. A hooded cloak obscured most of their body.

He tensed briefly as a pony sat down at the bar near him. He stole a glance at the stranger, and was a touch surprised to find a mare sitting at the bar. His hoof began to creep down instinctively to his chest, his leg muscles tightening.

Then the candlelight gave him a good look at her face and she smiled as their eyes met. A split second later, he was relaxed and fishing for the final scraps in his bowl. She looked like a gentle thing, and if the state of her sodden cloak was any evidence, a traveler like he was.

Still, he didn’t like how her eyes seemed to dart all over his body. He thought they rested to long on his chest, right where Bel was sleeping but dismissed it. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to her, and then averted his eyes, staring into his bowl.

“I’ll be right back with your supplies,” the bartender told him, walking into the back room. Calcite nodded and turned to face the hearth. He stretched his hooves out to the crackling flames, rubbing them gently.

For the moment, Calcite was able to rest his eyes. The room was warm, his belly full, and the last vestiges of dampness were ebbing away from his clothes. How tempting it would be to buy a room for the night and rest his tired body.

‘Perhaps at the next village,’ Calcite thought to himself as the bartender came back with a pack of dried goods.

“Right. Bit of flour in there, some oatcakes, couple of dried turnips,” the bar tender listed off.

Calcite frowned in puzzlement. “Turnips? That’s all I get for my bits?”

“Damn unicorn increased their demands,” the bartender grumbled bitterly, “and the harvest was less than fruitful this year. Its all I can spare for a fellow dirt walker. Take it, or leave it.”

The stallion mumbled a thanks and took the parcel. Something was better than nothing. He slid off the bar stool and began to walk away. He made only a few paces, but paused as he realized something.
The mare was still staring at him.

“May I help you?” Calcite asked dryly.

1106995 1107084 1107669

@Tsunami Rain: Ah, no harm done. And you don't need to apologize, it's really more of my fault than anything.

Smart Cookie noticed that Adagio sat simply glared at the griffon before writing a note and floating it to simply stared off between the two feathered companions. She slumped into a chair to drink after that. That was a harsh first reaction... I wonder if notuses have something against griffons? Her train of thoughts was interrupted when Blackfeather began to tell his tale about the Legend of Asio Roebuck.

~~~
Cookie stared into the distance for a few seconds after Blackfeather finished his story.

"That," she finally responded, "was an... interesting story. If it were true, and these... things are comin' back, then we're gonna be lookin' forward to 'nother ice age. Ah'm... I'm not sure if I'm ready tah believe that." She pawed at the ground absentmindedly for a couple moments before continuing. "It's not much, but I'm thinkin' it's the closest thing we've got to a lead. What d' you say?" She then nudged Flag Weaver.

1109576>>1107669

Adagio lets out a dissatisfied grunt and quickly snaps the book open again, writing a short message on a blank page, rips it out and throws it at the gryphon unceremoniously.

"You're loud, your occasional shriek is kinda annoying. Keep it down."

His almost arrogant behavior caused her to completely forget about using her mouth to write with, so she simply used the small bit of magic she had to both write, rip and throw the page at him. She set the mug back down on the table and massages a temple with a hoof, hoping that the gryphon would keep his voice down. It was annoyingly loud and cocky, though not necessarily guilty of the shrieks... yet.

She put her hooves around the mug again, lifting it to her lips and draining the remaining mouthful of mead. She gave a satisfied sigh as she put it down on the table again, nudging it with a hoof to make it slide to the middle of it, then picked up the quill with her mouth again and wrote yet another message, this one in response to Smart Cookie and his "complaints", or rather, fears.

"There are worse things in store than bad weather and failed harvests." It said, she slid it over to him with a hoof and looked at him with a set of dead serious eyes. Her gaze gave no indication of any trickery, only the honest to stars truth.

1108639
One of Adagio's fur-tipped ears flicked towards a foreign sound, one that didn't quite belong in the cozy and joyous tavern community. She turned to look at the source of the sound after having written the note for Smart Cookie and saw the stallion that came down from the stairs a little while before looking at them, seemingly discontent with something about the lot sitting near the Noctus herself. Sure, they were a curious bunch, but it was no reason to huff at them.

Her eyebrows knitted together as said stallion stood up and was on his way to leave, stopping shortly to ask a rather pointed question directed at the hooded mare at the bar. Now that she really looked, he seemed to be quite tense, for other reasons than his age.

Something's off about that guy. He's an earth pony in an earth pony tavern, in an earth pony town no less. Why is he so tense? Sure we are a few curiosities here, but it shouldn't be quite enough for him to be afraid. Of all of us, I think I'm the one with the best chance of survival should we be subject to the ire of the earth ponies here. She continued to discreetly look at him, making sure never to be too obvious, but to observe him.

In the meantime she wrote another note to Smart Cookie, figuring that she had finished the other one. She might as well tell her just what she thought was worse than failed harvest and bad weather.
"The Undead."

1108639

Pinpoint's gaze was centered on him for a while, though it wasn't without its reasons. First and foremost, it was to distract herself from darting her gaze around in paranoia as she tries to find someone else that would be staring into the back of her head, trying to figure her out. Being 'monitored' was one of her bigger fears.

The second reason was more prevalent. Something about him was undeniably, unquestionably off. She'd spent the whole time watching his mannerisms and his controlled emotions, his brisk awareness and haste to get going. They all spoke volumes to her perceptive and analytic mind.

He'd done something. She wasn't sure what. Whether it was for good, for bad, or something inbetween, his actions were definitely reserved.

As soon as he'd spotted her, she'd given him a smile to soothe his ego, but she had noticed his slow movements to the bundle on his chest. 'Something precious. Something he wouldn't want to put in danger.' she supposed mentally. 'Interesting.'

Eventually, before he left, she had seen a slight movement from behind the bundle of cloth. 'Foal.'

He had stood to leave, and Pinpoint was due to follow behind him. She knew enough magic to be able to blend in more than your average lout, and something about the red-eyed pony told her that she wouldn't be far behind either. She had noticed her reserved eye movements as Calcite had turned to leave in her peripheral vision.

'I'll wait until he's taken 10 steps..' She thought, her ears perking towards him to hear for the soft clops of his massive hooves. 'One, two, three, four, fi-'

"May I help you?" She was caught off guard by the question, but she had steeled herself from last time, putting on a faux smile and staring into his cold eyes.

"Hm?" She asked, putting a rough scratchy edge to her voice, masking the natural Unicornia accent behind it. To a local, it would definitely seem forced. "Oh, I was just listening into your conversation." She admitted truthfully, focusing to make sure no signs of futility came from her weakened state. She wanted to get more out of him, and going straight for the source of his interests would do so. ".. I mean, if you were going to ask about the Greywatch, I don't know why you'd only ask the bartender."

She kept her soft smile on, daring him to read between the lines.

1110252

Calcite frowned briefly at the mare’s blunt answer.

“A little rude to be listening to another’s conversation, isn’t it?” he asked her, his voice carrying a hint of contempt at this revelation. As if the mare wasn’t already acting shifty enough, she hadn’t helped her case. She either couldn’t tell a decent lie to save her hide, or was naively honest to a fault. Judging by the way she held herself and her frame, he was inclined to believe the latter. She lacked the muscular build that was the telltale sign of a farmer or any other sort of laborer. No doubt she had led a softer life, free of hard work.

The stallion also wasn’t sure of what purpose she had in asking, and his eyes narrowed as he tried to read her smile. She was a traveler, not a whore, so it couldn’t be to warm her or bed or fill her purse. It was clear he was leaving, so there wasn’t any point in making conversation. She looked just as lost in this neck of the world as he did, so it definitely was no offer advice...

Rubbish accent though…

“Besides, I don’t have time to go asking every dolt with fluff a’tween their ears,” Calcite answered brusquely. “They either did stop through here, or they didn’t.” He tucked the parcel of food onto his back, securing the straps around his neck. “Simple as that, and if they did, they would’ve stopped at this inn. Since he’s the only pony who’d be here every night,” Calcite gruffly jerked his head towards the bartender, who was busy filling another mug of ale, “he’s the only one worth asking anything.”

‘Still,’ he thought ‘if she isn’t just making idle chit chat and is trying to imply something…’

Calcite looked her straight in the eye. “Now, unless you know anything, I think it’s pointless to waste either of our time, wouldn’t you say?”

1111496

Switching back to her normal accent, she kept her smile constant. "A little rude to be so dismissive of me, no?" She asks rhetorically, a hidden wink behind her words. "Don't worry, I'll forgive you for now." As she continued to hold the stare he had on her, she scoffed. "I know I'm a rare breed, but you don't need to look me up."

"Look, I'm going to be bluntly obvious." She stated, getting up in her seat to approach him and whisper in his ear, breaking the stare he had on her to place her mouth near her ear. She had to lean her head up to do so, but she didn't show any reservation in being brave. She whispered, hiding her mouth movements from the weird eyed pony who probably had a vested interest in their conversation.

"I'm not interested in what you've done, but I can smell iron." She whispered, the soft sounds mostly hidden by the background clatter of the tavern. "And you have a foal. Whether you're a mines worker or doing what's on both of our minds, I don't care. I'm not going to act on it, but I'd like answers."

She leaned back, her cock-sure smile back in place. In a completely normal voice, she winked. "Call it a maternal instinct."

In the back of her mind, she knew if he responded with any ounce of implied violence, she would scarper. No doubt about it. If she hadn't had such a vested interest in him, her act wouldn't have had lasted nearly as long.

'But that wont stop me finding out.' She mentally declared.

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The stallion gave a sharp intake of breath at the mare's sudden shift in accent, and his eyes flickered to the forehead of her hood. It was concealed for the moment, but he could just imagine the curvature of the ivory protrusion. How in the flames of Tartarus did she get into this town with all that was going on? What was she doing here?

Whatever game she was playing, she drew herself close to him and made it clear to anyone watching that something private was just going on. Such a thing would surely draw unwanted attention.

"I'm not interested in what you've done, but I can smell iron," she told him.

His eyes flickered to the tavern door for but a second, but thought better of it. That proved nothing and was inconsequential. He could be a blacksmith for all she knew, and the scent would no doubt vanish after an hour in the rain. He had been silent and the door was jammed. By the time Tiger Lily's body was found, he would be far from this village with his ward. Even if it was found at this very moment, he was still safe. A pegasus was to blame, not an earth pony.

That is what he thought.

The next words from the mare's lips shattered that notion.

"And you have a foal," she whispered breathily into his ear, and Calcite’s blood turned to ice. Stoic as ever, the only sign of her acknowledgement was that his breathing hiked.

But inside, Calcite’s heart dropped to the bottom of his chest. His first instinct was to press a hoof across the babe on his chest, but he resisted. He didn’t need to incriminate himself any further.

The mare was suddenly to close for Calcite’s liking. At this range, a knife could be produced, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. How much of a fool had he been to drape Bel across his chest were she was most vulnerable?

The tension seeped out of Calcite only just barely as the mare stepped back and gave him a wink.

How did she know about Bel? How the buck did she know she was? If she knew that, what else did she know?

He could run. Bowl her over, and by the time she got up, he could be out the door. Maybe rip down her hood in the process, cause a commotion. Who knew what the tavern’s inhabitants would do to a ‘bonehead’ in their midst. A swift buck to the knees would leave her immobile and-

No.

Calcite’s eyes flickered involuntarily down to his chest. He could feel Bel’s warm breath tickling his fur. It was too risky to leave things to the chance that the earth ponies would deal with her.

He had to deal with her himself.

The beggar stared long and hard at the mare, searching her silver eyes for any sign of foul play. Her promises were worthless to him at the moment. Regardless, he gave an imperceptible nod towards the tavern door.

“Outside. Now. Slowly,” he whispered. His lips barely moved and he refused to meet her eyes. He shouldered his package and made his way to the storm outside.

She wanted answers. He would give them.

1112757

Pinpoint followed close behind, close on his heels of his hooves. She had let her smile fade for a much more suiting expression - Her usual androgynous grimace. As she passed, she intentionally ignored the weird eyed mare that was sure to follow. She could feel its eyes on the back of her head, and by extension, the stallion's head as well.

She would've liked to admit that the blustering winds and the sideways rainfall that rained down from the heavens was a surprise to her, but it strangely held a sentimental value of 'home'.

Home sure was really wet. And muddy.

She scrawled to pull the hood over her rapidly dampening face as she saw him in a similar manner, obviously barely waiting for her. With a sharp nod of her head towards the side of the building, she motioned for relative cover of the building's shadow.

As soon as she had stepped into the passage, she moved to unfasten her saddlebags to get a few items out of them. They seemed like random objects - A couple of leaves with different patterns, a few twigs, among items she had only taken out to get to the other supplies.

In the midst of doing so, she stopped to look up at unnamed stallion. Her tone was less cheeky than before, a lot less forced. It had gained a layer of seriousness, much like how her soldier training had tried to accomplish. She spoke lowly among the sound of the thundering rain drumming on the roofs around them. "I don't expect this to make any difference, but since you either plan to kill me or actually entertain my curiosity with your deepest secrets -" She gulped slightly. "- I think that telling you one of my secrets will help our situation better. Or not, as the case may be."

She flipped the hood of her cloak to reveal what was hidden in obscurity. A messy mane of dull purple tresses framed her face, the ends curling. The movement of sorting out her mane caused her fringe to flop down, curved away from her eyes.

What was more interesting was what was protruding through the fringe - A short ivory horn of a slate grey. It wasn't glowing in intimidation, in fact, it looked rather out of use. The short hairs that gave it its colouration was patched by endless amounts of dried sweat.

"I'm Pinpoint, deserter of the Unicornia militia, deserter being the only rank worth taking in that Gaia-forsaken cesspit. I'm a Unicorn, and I don't mean to harm you or your foal." She blinked her silvery eyes, staring straight into the stallions own. "That information alone could get you a pretty alm in the right places."

She broke the eye-contact as she started to form what looked like a small fire pit with what she had taken out of her saddlebags. She looked to the windowless wall behind her, before sitting on her flank. She carefully redirected her gaze to the stallions. "Now, if you wouldn't mind - Explain. The iron smell. The foal. The secrecy." She hesitated. "The Greywatch."

1112757>>1112938
The cloaked mare and the stallion left, she put the book and quill back in her saddlebags and followed.
There is something off about those two, and I'd very much like to find out exactly what.

She stood up and walked a few steps away, entering a patch of shadow. Then, as if she had never been there at all, she disappeared and walked towards the door, doing her best to keep into the shadows and staying out of sight when possible. She only just managed to slip through the door before it shut closed behind her. She breathed out a sigh of relief and followed behind as closely as possible while keeping to the shadows and staying silent. Thankfully, years of vigorous training had taught her how to move silently even in squealshing mud.

She stopped a few paces away from the two, standing at the edge of the same patch of shadow that Pinpoint had walked into. There she stood, silently listening to the two talking.
Despite the drumming rain, however, her overly sensitive ears caught the sound of a breath that should not really be there, a sort of hiccup. She dismissed it as nothing until "The iron smell, the foal-"
Her ears twitched at this, so that was the reason why he seemed so tense earlier; he was carrying a foal. And that small hiccup was the foal as well. Or... was she talking about a foal that wasn't present? No... They had barely talked outside of that small chat before they went outside.

Adagio absentmindedly noticed that there were some cover here, rain wasn't really falling in this small passageway. No rain... Cloak just got dry while I was inside... She carefully took the cloak off and stuffed it in a saddlebag, not wanting it to get wet so soon after it being dry. She now stood in her armour, a set of interlocking plates on her back, a dark violet horseshoe for each hoof, no weapons attached to this pair, and nothing else save for the saddlebags hanging on either side of her.

She stayed silent, waiting for the stallion to speak. A smirk crossed her lips, this was more entertaining than it should be, standing not five paces away from a pair of ponies talking about hush-hush secrets, and them having little chance to discover her. A nearby lightsource or stumbling into her was the only two things that'd really make them discover her at the moment.

Meanwhile in his room, Crimson Flask is still asleep.

Sorry for the really, really short passage. I have not really felt there was an good time to enter. There seems to be many characters in once place at one time. It did not seem like the right thing to do. That and I am dealing with some personal matters. Sorry bout that.

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Man, that was deep.

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...my mind is blown right now. I feel like all of life's questions have been finally answered. Okay, you know what? Punishment time. YOU get to find the bodies.

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The pegasus looked up at Smart Cookie and Otus. "What can you tell me about the ponies - or griffons, as the case may be - who said they saw these things? Is there anything at all that links them together? Any characteristic or trait or... anything they were doing or... well, anything, really."

Otus thought for a moment in contemplation. Was there any links to those who claimed to see these spirits? Who’s to know? They were all farmers, but then again, everyone was a farmer in Otus’ childhood, so that isn’t necessarily a good pattern to pursue...

Otus had known most of them his whole life at that point, a fair amount of the local farmers simply traded with each other, a sort of mini-economy within the countryside of the Grif lands.

“It’s hard t’say... I don’t recall any similarities that hold any significance.”

Well, there was that one that went cuckoo... the creepy eyes... the weird grin... the laughter...

With a shudder, Otus brushed those memories away. The pegasus was staring as he talked, so it wasn’t out of the question if he had noticed the shiver, he may want an explanation...

“Not here, laddy. Another time.” Flashing the pegasus a warning glance, before moving on. “Now, ‘ave you noticed anything of note in the farmponies out here, lass?”

Sorry about the wait... kinda spaced that I was next in line...

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He was grateful that she pulled the two of them into an alley. It would hide them from any prying eyes and would at least ensure some semblance on privacy. It was still too close for his liking. At any time she could run back into the inn, screaming for help. He could make good time from the village though.

He himself had almost run back to the tavern. Once when she had revealed her horn in the midst of her. Then again once she had reached into her pack. Both times he had recoiled, a hoof coming up partially from the ground as though in preparation to shield his chest. But he had just stood close at hoof, silently judging her story. Even now, he just stood there, coolly meeting the mare’s silver gaze.

"Forgive me if I don’t wholeheartedly buy that,” Calcite told her dryly at last. His eyes narrowed at the mention of a deserter. “I don’t know you, and you could be King Palladium’s daughter for all I know. The only way to tell would be to haul your sorry flank back to Unicornia. And even then I’d need a purse full of bits from them and your head on a pike to be sure,” he added with a scoff. “But I don’t have any intent of going near those ivory towers any time soon.”

His eyes turned up where far above a series of windows ran along the tavern’s second floor. They each glowed with a golden warmth, promising dry comfort from this forsaken night. Calcite grumbled and shook the rainwater from his body. He looked at the flimsy little fire pit she was putting together and snorted. In this weather, it stood a snowball’s chance in Tartarus.

“But the ponies in this village would be more than happy to find you here,” the stallion informed her as he met her eyes again. “I can imagine they’d have all sorts of things in store for your kind. But you’re going to stay silent about me. And I will stay silent about you,” he assured her.

Lightning cracked across the sky. Calcite and the mare were illuminated for one brief second in startling light, a sharp yet sodden contrast of white against black. He could see everything about her; a horn haggard from disused, an attractive face world weary and stern, nothing like the light hearted facade he saw back in the tavern. The remnants of a scar or two on her limbs.

He knew another soldier when he saw one.

Then, just as quickly the light was gone, plunging them both back into darkness. The sky crumbled under the thunder’s roar as it crashed across the night, chasing after its luminous brethren. A peal of ten dragons screaming; the cacophony of a hundred war drums; the roar of a thousand marching hooves.
It was nearly deafening against the howling rain. Water steamed down the mare’s face and Calcite’s neck, his flimsy hood offering nothing in terms of protection against Nature’s assault.

The lighting flashed again.

It was at that moment that Calcite lunged.

He slammed into the unicorn, bowling her over and knocking her into the muddy earth. A powerful hoof slammed into the soil next to her head, tossing dirt and rock, and Calcite knelt down, pressing his knee against her neck. He leaned down and pressed his lips close to her ear, like she did only a short awhile ago in the tavern.

"And I don't care what sorcery or trickery you have in that pointy head of yours," Calcite growled, "One lie, one wrong move... If you so much as try to harm one on her head, I will kill you." His hoof pressed down harder against her throat, pushing her ever so slightly forward into the dirt. Calcite was bearing down on her neck with the better part of his weight now. "But if, by ancestors, you do manage to hurt her, then I won't," he promised her. “But you’ll have wished I did.”

With his warning delivered, he let go of the mare and let her take a great wheezing breath. Calcite stepped back until his flanks pressed against the alley wall, his own heart battering against his ribs after that little stunt. It had already been too long a day, and the road had been hard. An old stallion’s body trying to flight or fight when he knew he could do neither. Not while the mare breathed and not with Bel so close.

All he could do was wearily slide down against the alley and sit in the mud, trying to collect his breath as she tried to collect herself from where he knocked her.

He thought over her questions. No doubt she’d have more, but if could keep her talking until he thought a way out of this…

“Blood,” the stallion answered quietly. He looked down at the bundle against his chest. The rain has soaked through much of the outer layers of his cloak, and Bel’s position against him was now more defined. He raised his forehooves above her, trying to shield the foal from the unrelenting downpour. “More important than you or I. Necessary.”

The lines on his face creased deeper in thought as he mulled over the last bit.

“Allies,” he answered at last. He took a glance at her horn and the robe which hugged her figure.

“Your disguise sucks, and so did your accent. You’re trying to hard.”