A Stormy Veliwir Night

It was a stormy night and the forests of Veliwir were silent, save for the constant drone of the rain, and the soft whisper of the wind. As the branches of the large evergreen trees swayed together, like a mass of dancing giants, a lone Banaur observed the forest floor.

The Banaur are the only sentient race on the continent of Veliwir, but they are by far one of the most dangerous. Her weasel-like face showed no emotion as her brown eyes swept over the landscape. The reddish-brown fur on her back waved back and forth wildly as the wind raged around her large, muscular frame. She twirled her spear around in her prehensile tail, itching to skewer her prey.

She wrinkled her nose, trying to get a scent despite the heavy rain and wind that swirled around her. Most Banaur did not hunt in such conditions. It was impossible to get a scent and most creatures took shelter from the storm, but this Banaur was hunting one particular creature; the amethyst adder. This species of snake normally hides away in holes in the ground where it digs around in the mud and catches burrowing animals such as hedgehogs and rabbits, but whenever it rains the serpent slithers out of its hole to soak.

The Banaur had decided to head towards the shore, she had seen them there before and there was a chance she could find one again. Little did she know, that this simple hunting mission would turn out to be not so simple.

Meanwhile, not far off the Veliwir shores, a large Equestrian ship, both anchors dropped and all the rigging and sails pulled down and stored away, sat rolling about on stormy seas. The crew had retired belowdecks, hoping that the anchors would hold, that the howling winds and boiling seas wouldn’t capsize their vessel.

All of the crew, that is, besides one. An earth pony with a chalk-white coat who smelled strongly of fine drink stumbled out from belowdecks. Atop his head was a red bandana with white polka-dots, across his face a black eyepatch. A shining cutlass lay sheathed through a belt across his midsection and an earring swung wildly from one ear. His lopsided face was a convoluted mess of wrinkles, through which one beady eye shone through.

His name was the Spiced Yard, the purser of the vessel.

“Ya calls that a gale!?” the Spiced Yard called to the wind whooshing over the deck, tugging rabidly at his bandana and eyepatch. Another batch of freezing water from a wave splashed over him; “I’ve weathered weather far worse’n this in crafts thrice as small! Har har!” he proclaimed.

“Im’a one that bedded a sea-pony goddess of’a sea, in fact! A fine catch she was if’n ya catch meh drift!” Yard continued in a drunk, conversational tone, addressing the wild sea, “Ts’how meh face got to be the mess-of-a-thing it be now! P’raps I could give a great retellin of me time with me fine l’il boat, the Sharp Dingy! Har h--”

Yard’s short laugh was strangled off into a gargle as another, massive, wave washed over the deck of the ship. Passing over and draining over the sides, the darkly colored water left no trace of the braggart of a pony on deck, silencing his boastful, seaborne cries.

“Ack! Ya wench! Be this yer tricks, ya sea-pony devil?” Yard sputtered, coming to the surface a ways from the ship, waves carrying him away, “and te think that I found ya worthy of penetratin with me--” another wave crashed over the pony, carrying him farther from the ship.

“An’ all those times, fer naught! All those times as ya called out meh name as I grabbed ya round the rump and--” Yet another wave crashed over him, censoring his cries and carrying him further still towards the black shape of land that the ship was moored off of.

“Or p’raps this’s just another test!? P’raps soon, if’n I find meself passin again, I’ll find meself in yer warm sea-pony embrace! Har har!” Yard cried out, waves carrying him closer and closer to the land, “Again we may share a loving embrace as I--” another wave silenced the pony, finally depositing him on the silty beach.

Brushing himself off, missing a few times on account of his drunken state, Yard stood as upright as a drunken pony could, staring out at the sea.

“Or p’raps ya just wanted to put me on land fer some fer’saken reason. Ah, the minds of mares, such odd things they be. Har har,” Yard mused to himself, turning inland and wobbling forwards.

“There once was a ma-re
Who had such fine ha-ir
Flowing from he-re to the-re…” Yard began to sing drunkenly as the boreal forests swallowed him whole…

Back in the forest, the Banaur leaped from branch to branch, making her way towards the shoreline using her knowledge of the area to navigate. Past the mossy boulder, left at the well-traveled caravan path, and up the tallest terrorpine tree granted the best view of the beach. She surveyed the coast, but was unable to spot her prey.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something bobbing violently offshore. It was a ship. A pony ship most likely. The Banaur sighed, “Foolish Ekkavir. Come to seek death in Veliwir’s woods.” She twirled her spear around with her tail, “No time to worry about them. Time to hunt.” She leaped off of the tree and landed safely in the sand. While scanning back and forth, she surveyed the soft sand for tracks that might indicate a creature had been in the area. Unfortunately, the beach was completely clean.

She was about to move on when she suddenly spotted some tracks, but not the ones she was looking for. It looked like a pony’s, but there was something off about it. They weren’t uniform. The only explanation she could think of is that it was either injured, or had some horrible birth defect. The tracks led into the woods. “Should I go after the Ekkavir?” She mused, “It would be dishonorable to let a helpless Ekkavir die without a proper burial, but going to find it might prove a waste of time.” She pondered what to do, before finally coming to a conclusion.

She rushed into the woods to find the pony. She hopped up a rock and leapt to a branch in order to travel through the trees. It would be easier to find a pony that way. She couldn’t hear or smell anything out of the ordinary which didn’t help point her in any particular direction. On and on she ran, jumping from tree to tree and looking out for any mangled bodies or pools of blood.

Just as she was about to circle back, she spotted something in a clearing. It was just a passing glance, but it was enough to grab her attention. She moved to investigate. Slowing her pace to a crawl, the Banaur lowered her body close to the branch and moved between trees with calculated precision. She silently entered the clearing from overhead.

The clearing was covered in tall grass, but was not tall enough to conceal the Banaur’s quarry. Sitting in the middle was an amethyst adder, bathing in the rain that fell through the gap in the tree canopy. What luck!, she thought to herself, chasing after the wrong tracks sent me to the right prey. Silently, she raised her spear, ready to impale the snake before it could slither away.

Just outside the grassy meadow, Yard stumbled through the thick pines littering the area. “P’raps if I jus’ keep headin inland I’ll fin’lly come across some sort of civ’lization!,” Yard slurred, “Migh’ be I’ll come across a lonely ol’ widower ta spend the night with! Har har!” Yard chuckled to himself in his drunken stupor.

The boreal trees broke up for a moment, Luna’s sparkling stars hidden by the weeping sky. A meadow of short grasses spread over the short break in the trees, hardly stopping Yard’s great quest to find some form of civilization on this continent.

Meandering along through the short meadow, one of his forehooves came down on the end of a thick, scaly tail. With a jerk of pain, the tail was pulled away, an angry roar following it.

Hardly fazed, Yard came to a stop, wondering for a second why the ground had done such a thing. He lifted a hoof to his squinting eye, waving the appendage before his vision as if to decipher some answer.

“Wha’cha doin there, li’l hoof? Ya don’t norm’lly make roarin' noises as ya step, now do ya? Har har!” he inquired to his hoof, laughing as if at some untold joke.

A dark shape rose from the grass in front of Yard, the serpentine neck and head of an amethyst adder. Its shiny, purplish scales glittered with pearly raindrops as it tasted the air with a forked tongue. Two yellow, slitted eyes locked onto the pony with rage, a low growl emanating from the creature’s throat. Yard set his eye on the creature, glad to finally meet another living thing, despite the fact that it looked ready to kill him.

“Ah! S’cuse meh, frien’! I be fin’in it a bit difficul’ to see where’n me hooves’re goin! Har har!” Yard apologized, still blind drunk as he wavered and slurred around, “Might ya mind pointin me in’a right direction ta civ’lization? Fell off me ship in’a storm!Har har!”

A forked tongue flickered out in the darkness, tasting the air again. The amethyst adder’s slitted eyes narrowed as it tasted the pony’s scent. Slowly, the creature began to wind up, neck coiling like a tensed spring as the creature prepared to strike.

As he gazed up at the creature, waiting for it give a decent answer, his sluggish mind and blurred vision misrecognized it as an old drinking buddy of the drunken pony, “Phosph’rus? S’tha you, ya old scrubby bast’d!? Har har!” Yard declared, beady eye widening in recognition.

Right as the amethyst adder was about to strike, Yard leapt forwards, gripping the creature around the neck in an earth pony bear hug. The creature’s eyes grew wide as it jerked its head back with a strangled noise, Yard’s bear hug crushing its windpipe.

“How’si’ hangin, ol’ frien’? I haven’t see ya roun’ the drinkin parlor’n ages! Har har!” Yard declared with another short laugh. The creature writhed under the earth pony’s grasp, gasping for air as his bear hug strangled the life out of it, “Ya still married to tha' ol’ nag of a wife, ya daft numbskull? I tol’ ya she’d be nothin but trouble if’n ya tried te take her hoof in marriage! Har har!”

The adder’s writhing grew weaker and weaker as it failed to draw any breath past Yard’s iron grip, until finally it grew still. The light of the creature’s eyes faded, forked tongue lolling out to one side, muscles growing lax.

“She’s not somewhere’s roun’ here, is she, yer wife? If’n memory serves that mare wasn’t too fond of me! Har har!” Yard wondered, unknowingly to himself now that the creature was dead. Fearful that his imagined drinking buddy’s wife was somewhere around, Yard gave the meadow a sluggish glance with his drunken sight.

The Banaur hopped down from her perch, surprised that the pony was able to slay a beast with its bare hooves. From the look of the pony, she surmised that it was a male… though it was hard to tell.

“Well done, Ekkavir,” she congratulated the pony, “I’m sure now you will take its hide, right? To commemorate your success?” She was actually hoping he would say no, that way she could take the hide and give it to an elder in her clan.

“Ah! Missus Phosph’rus, what a s’prise ta see ya roun’ these parts, ey! Yer not still hold’n that ol’ grudge by any stroke a fate?” Yard inquired, letting the dead adder fall from his grip and sizing her up with inebriated eyes, “Ya seem a tad taller than our last visit, no? Not t' say ya’s fat or nothin. Har har!”

“I believe you have me mistaken for someone else, Ekkavir. My name is Blood Quill, a Banaur. Are you...” Quill noticed the pony’s drunken swaying, “...alright?”

“Naw, yer missus Phosph’rus, aren’t ya? This’s yer wife, ain’t she, Phosph’rus?” Yard inquired, confused. He turned to where he’d last seen the adder he’d mistaken for his buddy, only to find him missing, “Phosph’rus!? Where’d ya go? Ya haven't run off fer some other mare, have ya? Can’t say I’d blame ya if’n ya did! Har har!”

Blood Quill watched with confusion as the pony turned about, nearly falling over multiple times as he searched the area for his missing buddy.

“Ah, but he be gone!” Yard said, turning back to the Banaur, “Ya wouldn’t happen to know where the nearest parlor’d be, would ya? P’raps a place I could retire for the rest of this fine, stormy night! Har har!”

“There are no ‘parlors’ around here Ekkavir. You are on Veliwir, a much different place from Equestria.”

“This ain’t Equestria!?” Yard exclaimed, looking about, “I thought Yanhoover was always this dreary! Har har!”

“Do you not notice your surroundings? The trees taller than your pony houses? The lack of drunken ponies falling over each other?”

Yard looked about, beady eyed, reevaluating his surroundings. He looked up, down, left, right, and twisted his head as if the world had turned at an angle before looking back at Blood Quill.

He took a few clumsy steps forwards, looking her up, and down with an intense gaze. She eyed him back with a solemn expression.

“So...yer not missus Phosph’rus, then?” he asked.

“I am not,” She cringed as she smelled the alcohol on his breath, “It seems you are incredibly… drunk. I can lead you to my village where you can rest.”

“Aye!” Yard proclaimed with a smile, “That I’d be fond of! Lead the way!” he continued, striding off in a random direction.

Blood Quill grabbed him and spun him around in the opposite direction. Yard barely noticed it and kept walking as he had been, this time in the right direction. “So, Ekkavir. What brings you here?”

“Well, y’see, we were trackin down this dragon what stole a magical astrolabe from me fine cap'n. Tracked him this far before this storm went 'n made us drop anchor off shore 'ere. Ya haven’t seen such a beasty, have ya?” Yard inquired, “Bast’d’s about... maybe… this tall,” the pony lifted one hoof high above his head, grossly underestimating the dragon’s size. He wavered as the gesture put him off balance, “Big, pretty wings, breathes fire like he swallowed down a whole jar of dried peppers! Har har!”

Quill’s ears perked up immediately. “Dragons?” She blurted out with surprise and excitement. “You’ve seen a dragon? We must find it! Now!” Her blood rushed at the thought of her spear piercing through a dragon’s ribs! Of making a new spear out of it’s bones! Of using its scales for armor! “Where did you last see it? I have to find it before the others do!” She almost pulled Yard off his hooves as she shook him frantically.

“Augh! Settle there, girlie!” Yard exclaimed, eye swirling around with dizziness, “If’n me mem’ry serves, we last saw the beastie a few leagues off’a shore here, headin' over the 'orizon yonder,” Yard lifted a hoof, pointing off inland, “At least, methinks it was tha' way. I was quite a bit full’a fine drink by the time we last saw him, so me sense a’ direction may’ve been a bit off! Har har!”

“Well, let’s get going then. I’ll lead the way. You just tell me which way we’re going.” Blood Quill made note of the dead adder’s location, she could come back for it later. She was slightly worried that a scavenger would come across the body, but the opportunity to slay a dragon was every Banaur's dream. With that out of the way, she started off at a fast pace in the direction that the drunken pony had pointed, but had to slow down to accommodate Yard’s pace.

“Alrigh’ then!” Yard replied, stumbling after Blood Quill, getting a good look at her lean backside. "Quite a fine body she’s got on her," he mused quietly to himself, eyeing her lean flanks, "Looks as fit as a fiddle to play! Har har!"

Blood Quill looked back and noticed Yard eyeing her intently, “Is there something wrong Ekkavir? Do I have something on my fur?” The Banaur was oblivious to what Yard’s thought's were, and his answer quite surprised her.

“Jus’ mindin yer backside, missus Quill!” Yard chuckled, “Ya wouldn’t happen ta be in possession of a mate already, would ya? Har har!”

“That’s a strange question.” Blood Quill checked the skies for signs of dragons before continuing, “I do not have a mate. Most Banaur do not mate unless they know they are ready. The mating ritual is very violent and some have lost their lives to it. Why do you ask me this, Ekkavir?”

“Well, I jus’ be wonderin if’n ya find yerself alone and in desire of company on cold nights such as this one. P’raps ya be lookin fer someone to share yer-” Yard was cut off as he stepped into a deep puddle, its small circumference making it look much shallower than it actually was.

He faceplanted with a splash into its mucky surface, sputtering as he pulled his face out, “Ack! Have at ya, vile puddle!” Yard proclaimed, drawing his cutlass with a hoof and slashing at the water for his sullied honor.

The swing threw him off balance as the sharp blade splashed through the water, sending the drunken pony falling back into it with a loud splash. Were it alive, the puddle would surely have chuckled and wandered off, the victor of the duel.

“What are you doing?” Blood Quill demanded as she used her tail to grip the pony’s leg and lift him high out of the puddle. “Could you be any more louder Ekkavir? I’ve seen…” She stopped short when she noticed the shape of the puddle that Yard had fallen into. It was large and shaped like a dragon’s foot. “A footprint!” Quill examined the impression further.

“The dragon must be close. This still has a scent!” She sniffed again just to make sure. The smell made her restless, her hair standing on end, tail twitching with her excitement. “Wait, I think I can hear it.” She lifted her head high in the air. Sure enough, she could make out a distinct stomping sound.

“To arms, then! Har har!” Yard cried out from Quill’s tail’s grip, thrusting his weapon outwards, “Where be this vile beastie!?”

“Quiet!” She snapped at Yard in harsh tones, “Do you wish for us to be discovered?”

Yard considered that for a moment, “P’raps not, I suppose. Though discovered doin wha' exactly?Har har!” Yard chuckled.

Ignoring the pony in her desire to hunt, Quilly continued, “Listen, there are caves nearby. It must have gone there to get away from the rain.”

She stealthily climbed a tree while still holding Yard by the hoof with her tail. Ignoring the pony’s pleas for release, she launched forward towards the location of the caves. She was familiar with the area and it was said that dragons used those caves in ancient times.

It didn’t take Quilly long to reach her destination. The Spiced Yard barely slowed her down, and she was so excited that she didn’t notice that her muscles started to ache from running so hard. When they were in sight of the caves, there were noticeable signs of dragon activity. The ground was littered with large footprints and scattered tree limbs. Smoke poured out of the cave. She dropped Yard, who fell to the ground with a loud thump.

“Ow! Me head!” Yard exclaimed, getting drunkenly to his hooves.

“Quiet!” Quilly hissed, hair standing on end, her eyes transfixed on the cave like a cat watching a mouse.

She motioned for him to follow, and together, they both peered into the mouth of the cave. It was hard to see anything, but the smoke became more intense the longer they stared inside.

“Aye, a dragon be afoot!” Yard whisper-exclaimed, “Methinks we should rush the bast’d!”

Yard began to charge in, only for Quilly to yank him back by the tail. “Hold on Ekkavir. The beast is probably asleep. If we sneak in, we will be able to slay it before it awakens.”

“Aye, pr’aps stealth be the best approach to takin down the beastie, then!” Yard agreed, lowering himself to the ground as he began to sneak in.

The two snuck in, keeping low to the ground to avoid the mass of thick, black smoke emanating from deeper down the cave. As they progressed deeper into the cave, they began to hear a low growl, the sound of it causing the cave to rumble violently.

“I’d not want to be the mate of this foul one!” Yard exclaimed quietly, “I hates it when a mare snores like a fallin tree, keeps me awake all night fer all the wrong reasons! Har har!”

“You would mate with a dragon, Ekkavir?” Quilly said in shock, “You are a strange one.”

“Aye, me mother always said I was. Must’ve been all the rum she’d be drinkin after me father went an'knocked her up’n left her. Would explain me love of fine drink as well! Har har!”

“Quite the tale. Most Banaur women would cut off their mate’s head and plant it on a pole if they so much as spoke of abandoning their child.”

Yard threw a surprised glance to Quilly, “Really? From what I remember that’s what she went and did! Har har!”

Quilly chuckled, “You amuse me Ekkavir.” Quilly paused and motioned for Yard to stop. “Do you see over there? The dragon rests not even a few yards away.”

Yard squinted, a hard thing to accomplish with the beady little eyes he had. They brightened as he spotted something clutched in the creature’s claws.

“Aha! The stolen astrolabe! Har har!” he exclaimed, darting forwards faster than Quilly could stop him.

His gallop reduced to a trot as he neared the great beast, eyes lifting as he eyed its massive, scaled body. Even in the darkness of the cave, it’s sea-blue scales glimmered like a mass of sapphires as its sides expanded and contracted to the rhythm of sleep.

His eyes fell back down to the pilfered, golden astrolabe in its clutches. Being careful as a drunken pony could be, he reached down to lift one of its massive claws away from the entrapped instrument.

“You fool!” Blood Quill whispered loud enough for Yard to hear, “Don’t touch it! You’ll wake him up!” Blood Quill was fuming at the pony’s senseless actions. Even Banaur children wouldn’t act the way he did.

“Promise I’ll be careful, missus Quill!” Yard replied as he continued to pry at the creature’s thick claw, “I’ll be swift as a butterfly and strong as a hawk! Har har!”

Having gotten the dragon’s claw out of the way, Yard ducked down and nabbed the astrolabe with his mouth.

“Har har!” he tried to proclaim through the instrument in his mouth.

And then he dropped the claw right on his head.

“Ack!” Yard exclaimed, letting go of the astrolabe as the claw came down, entrapping him, “Le’ go’a me ya stupid bast’d beastie! Take that! Har har!” he cried out, throwing a punch into the claw.

A great roar shook the cavern, the feeling akin to an earthquake as the claw lifted, freeing Yard.

“Ha!” Yard proclaimed, free of the dragon’s sleepy clutches, “Ye’ve gone’n messed with the wrong pony, ya foul beast! Have at ya! Har har!”

With an attempt at a flourish, Yard drew his shining cutlass. The dragon, angry red eyes narrowing down at the pony, was not amused. It let out a low growl.

“Who dares to awaken me!?” the dragon demanded, standing on all fours and snorting a short bout of flame in anger, “Speak your name, petty creature! I wish to know whom it is that I kill!”

“I be the Spiced Yard!” Yard proclaimed back, tossing his cutlass from hoof to hoof, “Ya be the one that went’n stole an instrument from me cap’n! Now I be findin meself repilferin it from ya! Har har!”

The dragon reared up, fires licking upwards from its opening maw as it prepared to blast Yard to oblivion. Yet before the dragon could spit his bout of fire, there was a swoosh of air, a wet thwack of bone on flesh.

Yard found himself splattered with blood. Looking for the source, he spotted a spear protruding out of the dragon’s head. The creature swayed uneasily, the life fading from its startled eyes as the fire at its maw died. With a hurricane’s gust of air, the creature collapsed forwards, nearly crushing Yard and blasting forth a mass of dust, shaking the ground as it collapsed, dead.

Blood Quill confidently strode up to the dragon and retrieved her spear. It took some effort to remove the weapon, as it was buried deep within the dragon’s scales. “I’m actually glad you ran up to it they way you did. It gave me the perfect opening to throw my spear.”

“Ya be welcome, milady,” Yard said with a smile, sheathing his weapon, and striding up to the creature, “I told ya I’d be repilferin this from ya! Har har!” Yard said, pulling the astrolabe from the dead dragon’s clutches, attaching it to his belt.

Quilly patted the pony on the back, “I’m glad you were able to retrieve your prize, but there is one thing I must ask of you.”

“Aye, and what’d that be, missus Quill?” Yard asked, turning to Quilly with his signature smile.

“You’ll help me carry it back to my village right?” Quilly smiled slyly back.

Yard looked back at the creature, beady eye sizing it up.

“Ye’ve got fine drink there, right?”

“Of course, Ekkavir,” She smiled, “Of course.”

Author's Note:

Thank you all for reading! Like I said in the description, this is a collaboration between me and Salted Pingas.

This is part of the storyline of the group Pirates of Equus. Check us out for more pirate related stories!

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