Stormy and Merlos Adventures

by NoisyPegasus

CHAPTER 008: A sinking feeling.

One week later

A week aboard the Weiser Budd crawled by for Merlos and Stormy’s party, much like the barge itself crawled down the river toward its destination: the capital city of Halia, of the nation of Halia, in the province of Halia… The Halians were a very uncreative sort.

Knott braced himself behind his shield just before a force strong as a charging bull slammed against it. “Good good, now really let me ‘ave it with the next one ‘nd don’ let up! Keep that rythm, girl!”

“No problem!” Stormy took a deep breath before striking out with her hind legs. “And, uh, we say ‘filly’ where we’re from. I mean either works but—!”

She oofed loudly as Knott shoved back, sending her sprawling onto the barge’s deck.

“Focus, filly! Mind on the fight at hand! Er, hoof! Haha!”

Merlos watched from a distance as Stormy’s hooves clanged loudly on Knott’s dwarven shield during their spar. Knott and Stormy had been training together daily as a routine all the way downriver, one coaching the other on basic principles of hand to hand combat, or in this case, hand to hoof. In an effort to help Stormy know how to take care of herself, being stranded in another world and all, the Hu brothers had walked her through everything from how to keep her balance in a fight to turning a blow. Currently, they were actually working on the advanced art of delivering an effective blow, a deceptively difficult task in a heated battle.

Merlos huffed and looked back to his scribing. “She ought to be reading her spellbooks…”

It was a long ride south to Halia in the ramshackle boat, and helping the little filly gain experience and confidence gave everyone something interesting to do versus the monotony of the landscape. Although, Klee Tusk’s efforts to teach Stormy how to smash things “gud” with a plank of wood was turned away with polite but firm discourse.

“Ah!” Stormy oofed hard as she slammed again into the deck of the ship after losing her balance.

Knott winced, lowering his shield. “Ooo’. Arrigh’ lass, back up on yer hooves. Square yer stance more or you won’t stay up on yer two— er, four legs after ye’ follow through.”

Clearly, Stormy still had a ways to go.

Merlos grunted from his seat against one of the deck’s few sturdy railings, and put his attention back on his work: attempting to copy down spell-scrolls. A time honored and common tradition of wizards with spare time, copying spells into written words of power required focus, wit, and above all else, quiet. Unfortunately, he lacked that last one. He was having difficulty concentrating his mind enough for the necessary amount of detail, so his quill was currently instead detailing a doodle of Stormy bucking against Knott’s shield in his journal. Beside the picture were several notes taken of her strange alien language and more.

“Well.” Merlos sighed and leaned back to stare p at the sky, the sound of Stormy’s oofs and Knott’s stoic grunts in the background. “At least it’s peacfu—”

An ear-piercing and raucous cry came from Klee Tusk atop the crow’s nest, which was really just a rocking chair nailed onto the shed over the helm at the barge’s center.

“Land ho’!” the orc cried with glee. He jumped from the nest to the barge’s top deck, the floor splintering slightly as he did so.

“We are in the middle of a river.” With a heavy sigh, Merlos looked down again at his half finished fireball scroll and pegasus notes. “There’s land all around us.” Scowling, he gestured to the shore not twenty strides from the Weiser Budd’s portside.

The orc must not have heard Merlos, as he was already jumping from the helm shed’s roof and racing towards the front of the barge.

“Whoo! Land ho’!” Stormy cheered as well, and glided past Merlos, following after Klee Tusk. “Hey, wasn’t there supposed to be a city?”

“We have not yet reached Halia!” Merlos said, voice raised. “And stop saying that, there’s land all aroun—!” He started to bluster, only to give up, knowing better. “I’m surrounded by morons.”

“Hehe, yer jus’ upset we morons ‘ave more fun than ye’.” Knott chuckled and tossed an indignant Merlos up to his feet by his collar. “Come ye’ ol’ codger. We’re goin’ ashore for a spell. It’ll do ye’ good to get off the boat an’ stretch yer scrawny ‘uman legs.”

“My legs are none of your concern,” Merlos griped back. “And if I didn’t go along, you three would start a bar brawl inside of two minutes at an inn, so believe me when I say I don’t need any encouragement.” He straightened his robes indignantly while also stuffing his spell material safely away where it couldn’t be molested by stray, meddling orcs or pegasi.

“I think it’d take even us a’ least three minutes, eh?” Knott guffawed as he spoke.

While the party traded relative niceties, the barge was gently drifting closer toward a ramshackle looking pier at the head of which was an equally ramshackle looking three story building. A large wooden plank that looked to be an old door hung from a sign at the river’s edge declaring the building to be named, appropriately and boringly enough, Riverside Inn in a sloppy font. Just beyond the tall building was a humble hamlet that looked to be built out of sight into the woods’ shadows.

“Hey, Merlos?” Stormy asked, trotting away from Klee Tusk’s strange, happy sounding orcish screaming. “Can you top off my speaking spell? I don’t want to be in the middle of talking to someone at the inn and suddenly switch over to Equestrian.”

Merlos finished tucking his scroll cases into his bag. “Hm, I think not. I’ve been trying to space out its daily use this last week by preparing it less each day. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t notice sooner.”

Stormy scowled and crossed her forehooves over her front. “Oh no, I noticed! Everyone was laughing at me for hours this morning!”

The captain, Jethro Thull, laughed an interjection as he sauntered his way into the conversation. “Hehe, yer horse-word for ‘friend’ were doody!”

“N-No! It was ‘dude’! Uggh.” Stormy groaned loudly and turned her back from the guffawing backwoods elf. She hadn’t had much luck on the voyage teaching any of them her language’s words, and almost as little luck learning any of their language on her own. All of which was of course their fault.

Merlos chuckled at the frowning filly’s expense. “Stormy, believe me, it’s far more important that the spells I have prepared daily for this journey remain combat and utility focused. There’s a very good reason we’re here to help guard the boat, remember. Besides, I can almost promise you there’s no one in there you’d want to converse with.”

Stormy nodded, her embarrassment replaced with sullen acceptance. “Yeah, fine, whatever.”

Merlos held up a finger derisively. “None of that sass, now. You know I’m right.” With the expectedly large threat of bandit attack, he would much rather have enough energy to cast a decisive fireball rather than Stormy being capable of hurling snarky remarks in a melee.

“Doesn’t mean I gotta like it.” Stormy huffed and turned away to look at the fast approaching pier.

“Land ho’!” Klee Tusk shouted again, still laughing.

“Stop saying that!” Merlos shouted back.

“Kahn’t make me! WAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!”

“O’ let’m ‘ave his fun, Merlos,” Knott chuckled amidst unhooking and rolling a couple kegs across the deck.

The Weiser Budd clunked up against the dock with a loud crunch. The barge shuddered and gave a metallic groan as bolts and patchwork fasteners across the hull protested the collision.

Stormy warily watched as several of the pier’s planks and one load-bearing post tumbled off into the shallows. She cantered nearer the edge to peek over, ears pinning back from the occasional squeaks of the pier and barge rubbing against one another. “Do we have to pay for that?”

Klee Tusk cackled, a terrifying sound coming from an orc, and hopped over the guardrail. “Only if sum’wun catch us!”

Stormy watched Knott pitch heavy ropes to Klee Tusk, who promptly moored the barge in place. After which, the large orc tore up a loose board from the pier itself and used it as an improvised gangway as space opened up between the boat and dock.

“Okie, we all go to inn now!” Klee Tusk said, charging ahead to lead the way. Two dock workers were forced into leaping off the pier into the shallows or risk a trampling.

Jethro sighed, scratching a filthy hand behind his head. “Gull durnit. I hope he don’t start nothin’. Maybe I shoulda chained him to the deck to keep him outta trouble.”

Knott laughed over his shoulder as he rolled a keg down the makeshift gangplank. “I imagine you’d lose what’s left o’ this boat if ye’ did tha’.”

“Haw! True as the sky is blue. Whelp, if all a’yah’re pleased I’ll take first boat watch.” Jethro popped a cork from a large clay jug he had slung over his back, and proceeded to take a long swig.

Stormy, amidst all the commotion, looked warily at the haphazardly placed gangway plank. When the dwarves began rolling the heavy barrels over onto the dock, she felt her hackles rise in worry. Surprisingly, the board held fast.

After they were finished, Stormy placed a hoof tentatively on the gangway, shuffling back after the end raised up dangerously.

Merlos walked up behind her, nearly tripping over her hesitation. “What’s taking so long?” he demanded.

Stormy spread her wings and gave Merlos a doubtful look. “Good luck,” was all she said, and hovered over to the dock rather than risk the rickety board.

“Hmph. Ges, what are we doing here, again?” Merlos asked.

“Jus’ a pit stop, Merlos. Nothin’ to get your dress in a bunch over.” Ges looked back while rolling the barrel as large as he across the pier.

“Robes. Not. A. Dress,” Merlos replied coldly, each word punctuated by a bounce from the makeshift gangplank.

Stormy cringed as Merlos crossed over, waiting for the board to give up the ghost and snap, but impressively it held through everyone’s weight. “What the?” Curious, she gave the board a light touch, and gasped as it snapped suddenly down the middle. “Ah! Seriously?”

“Stormy! Hurry up and stop dawdling.”

“Says the fella’ wearin’ a dress,” Ges repeated.

“Enough! They’re robes!”

Stormy snickered and filed in behind her group of friends as they headed toward the inn. She stopped short of laughing harder as she caught the glare Merlos was giving her.

“And I’ll thank you for making the distinction clear between a lady’s attire and a wizard’s highly respected uniform.” Merlos’ trademark indignation was nearly palpable as always while he plodded down the hamlet’s muddy street behind the mismatched group ahead of him. “If you just left them out of proceedings altogether I’d thank you twice.”

Ges chuckled, a less raucous sound than his brother’s. “O’ course, o’ course. Well, to answer your question it goes like this: we sell a couple barrels, have a drink, maybe stay the night in an actual bed, then back on the open road! Er, river. Ye’ know?”

Stormy almost snickered again as Merlos’ face lit up at the mention of a bed.

“Hm.” Merlos now looked appreciatively up at the inn as they drew closer. “I suppose that does sound like a good enough plan…” Just shy of entering the establishment, he stopped. “Oh, nearly forgot.”

Stormy was caught by surprise as Merlos turned about, then began affixing something around her neck right where she hovered. “Hey! What the hay, dude?”

Merlos stopped, looking surprised, and then indignant as he put on one of his best looks of agitation. “What’s wrong now?”

Stormy gestured to the rope leash dangling off her front. “Uh, take a guess? What do you think you’re doing putting a collar on me?”

“Oh it’s not a big deal.” Merlos rolled his eyes. “I have had this planned out far in advance. You see, it’s standard for a wizard to leash his familiar indoors for appearances, and frankly I’d rather not bother having to explain to the barkeep your true status as a sapient. Also, we’d have to pay more for lodging if I don’t claim you as my familiar and money’s tight at the moment as you well know. It’s not exactly dignified, but for now at least this works best. Trust me.”

Stormy had felt her face getting redder and angrier the more the grizzled wizard droned about his plan. She pinned her ears back and glared at him.

“So unless you have a better idea—”

“Yeah, I do! How about we discuss plans with Stormy before just implementing them! I mean, didn't you get angry at me for doing this a week ago?” Stormy reached up and grumbled as she pulled the twine off over her head. “I trust you, Merlos, but this is not cool.”

“Hey, you—” Merlos floundered as Stormy tossed his rope into the back of a passing wagon. “That was good silk rope! Come back here, you! Oh, sir, stop for a moment there’s—”

Stormy didn’t listen as she flitted away, following Ges, Knott, and Klee Tusk inside the inn.

The building was filled with all kinds of noise.

As Stormy stood in the entrance to the establishment, the door slamming behind her, the first thing that struck her wasn’t the drab decor, nor was it the out of tune lute music that somebody played amidst the din of conversation.

“Uggh, what’s that smell?” Stormy held a hoof up to cover her nose. Whatever was making the musty and charred smell that had hit her wasn’t apparent. A few patrons nursed their beverage of choice or pitched darts at a dartboard, and while they all looked as if they probably stank, she decided it was better to not think about it any longer. When a few took notice of her and began to stare, she hurriedly ducked her eyes and went on, head lowered.

I mean, maybe wearing a leash wouldn’t be all that embarrassing… Stormy grumbled over the thought, deciding that no, she’d rather get the stares than let Merlos walk all over her.

Stormy took a good look around, letting her eyes drink in the details of the place’s wooden carvings of animals and hunting implements which decorated the walls. The inn’s windows were cloudy with grime, letting diffused light spill in from the outside in speckled and shadowed patterns. She could still see well enough thanks to a couple lit torches and a fire going at the room’s side, but the lighting had an altogether gloomy feel. The gloom was made gloomier by the tinge of smoke in the air, much like that from Merlos’ pipe. Everything had a worn in look, even the patrons, but the floor was clean enough for Stormy to not want to spaz about the inn’s housekeeping.

Stormy spotted Klee and the dwarves already across the room, and started toward them at a quick trot. Knott was busy making a rather exuberant show of clapping his hand together loudly with that of a burly man in an apron, while Klee and Ges set the kegs up on the bar.

A few other oomans and other humanoid races of all shapes and sizes came closer to the bar, likely to see what the hubbub was about.

Stormy stopped to watch with an idle fascination of just how many different looking creatures there were with such a small palette of colors to share between them. She kept it to herself, but she really did have trouble telling a lot of oomanoids apart from each other.

Stormy’s pause became an apparent mistake, as all the commotion building quickly put a solid wall of bodies between her and her party.

“Uh, sir— excuse m— Great.” Stormy sighed, and began to try and squeeze her way through. There was a loud clunking noise somewhere in front of everyone at the bar, and suddenly cheers erupted throughout the building, but she was too short to see what it was. The clunk and the fizzy sound that came afterward seemed to send the throng, which was now all around her, into an immediate frenzy.

“Hey, watch it! Pardon me, coming through. If you could just—” Stormy managed to get total of two steps into the bar crowd, but no further. It was made all the worse by the fact that the majority of the patrons were all twice her height or more.

“This is waaay too crowded,” Stormy said. Fed up, and getting jostled far too much for her liking, she turned to go back and maybe look for a seat at the edge of the room, only to oof loudly as someone stepped in her way.

“Whaaaat have we got here?” a gravelly voice slurred.

Stormy looked up, and up and up. What had bumped into her turned out to be a tall ooman with long golden locks of hair and piercing eyes that had a dangerous look in them. He wore a dull brass colored armor, nicked and scratched with what she assumed was time spent on a battlefield. A morning star, similar to what she had seen in a museum, dangled inches from Stormy’s low-to-the-ground face.

“U-u-u-uhh…” Stormy stuttered blankly in return, too surprised and not at all prepared for such an encounter. The worst thing that could happen came at that precise moment, though, as Merlos' spell chose right then to run out.

“Baa weep grahna weep nini bong?” Stormy clapped her hooves over her muzzle, embarrassed, but it was too late.

The barbaric looking ooman’s eyes widened, then he burst out laughing, shaking and almost doubling over. “Oh, by the gods, this must be my lucky day. From what witch and curse ridden corner of the world did you spawn from, huh?” Grinning, he reached a dirt covered metal glove forward as if to try and poke at her head or ruffle her ears.

While the ooman spoke—Stormy couldn’t understand a word of it now—she tried to back away or find an avenue around the guy, but there were still strangers crowded all around, and worse, several had noticed the commotion and were paying attention, too.

A toothy, black and brown grin surrounded by a thick bristly blonde beard filled Stormy’s vision as the ooman leaned down toward her. Stormy’s muzzle scrunched at the smell of stale alcohol somehow clearing the distance between them.

“‘Ey, are you ignoring me? I said let’s go up to the stage. The boys’d love to get a good show out of you and your gibberish.”

Stormy couldn’t recoil anymore than she already had thanks to the crowd around her. Just as the man’s hand neared to grabbing her foreleg, an even bigger, stockier hand reached out from nowhere to catch his wrist in an iron grip.

Ges’ steely gaze locked with that of the blonde ooman. “Oi, ‘nd what d’yeh think yer doin’, stranger?”

His amused look gone in favor of an angry one at being touched, the ooman ripped his hand free from Knott’s grip. As he did, two more oomans in matching armors came to stand beside him. He traded brief looks with them, then leaned over Ges with a smirk and stated, “Oh, I’m sorry there, wee dwarfy. Were this noisy thing your mount?” The stranger crowed at his own joke, his two companions joining in.

Ges faux chuckled with them, his bushy eyebrows raising appreciatively at the jape. “This here’s my friend, as a matter a’ fact.”

The blonde ooman looked to his side. “A dwarf that knows how to make friends. That’s a new one.” Amidst chuckles, he continued, saying, “You know, if it weren’t for your short beard, I’d think this dump were serving children at the bar now. What do you think boys, in the mood for a bit of dwarf tossin’?”

Stormy scooted back a little, not liking where this is going.

Ges never looked away from the ooman. “See, I thought we could come to an un’erstanding. Now, yer jus’ lucky I din’t bring mah axe, human, or I’d chop yeh down right here like a tall, ugly blonde tree with bad hygiene.” He cracked his left hand’s knuckles, then his right’s.

The blonde ooman’s chin raised, his expression growing dark. “No one threatens us and lives, wee dwarfy.”

“That so? Now I’m shakin’ in me ‘wee’ boots. Or I would be, if ye’ weren’t abou’ as intimidatin’ as a one legged blind goblin.”

Still backing up, Stormy abruptly took notice that the area around them all had suddenly been cleared out. The patrons were all either beginning to gather their things and leave, or cheer on whatever was happening. She took cover on the opposite end of a nearby table along with several others. I got a bad feeling about this, she lamented, peeking around the table’s edge.

The blonde human cracked his neck, visibly itching for the coming fight. “You’re gonna regret saying that.”

“No, but yer gonna regret crossin’ me an’ my friends. We look out for each other, y’see.” Ges gestured behind the blonde human and softly said, “Before you breathe another word, lad, ye’ might want t’ look behind yerself an’ look out for them, too.”

The ooman turned around and his gaze panned up to see the Klee Tusk’s imposing form standing before him.

Klee Tusk—who had been bored out of his mind the last few days—couldn’t have been happier, as could be seen by anyone noticing his ear to ear grin. Listening in, he had approached the oomans, and now he loomed happily over them.

The stranger may have been ready to warn the orc who stood a head taller than him to back off, however, Klee Tusk’s eyes already burned with the impending excitement of battle as his fist rocketed out and across the ooman’s face the moment he’d turned around.

Even as teeth still flew across the room, Klee Tusk happily shouted, “BAR FIIIIIIGHT!”

Stormy watched in awe as Klee Tusk sent the blonde human flying several feet with a single punch into the crowd, then started to wrestle with both of the other two humans across the barroom floor.

All around the inn, cheers, screams, and most of all, laughter, roared to life.

Ges began to lend Klee Tusk a hand with pummeling the two lackeys, seemingly ending the fight before it had begun. Only, the sound of chairs scraping noisily and shouting from across the room announced several more oomans in similar looking armor coming to their companion’s aid.

Oh, this is bad. This is— What the hay? Stormy stared around wide-eyed, suddenly aware that the fighting wasn’t just centered on her friends. All across the inn patrons were suddenly fighting one another for no apparent reason.

Stormy eeped loudly as a stool careened through the air just over her head. “Ah!” She hit the ground, crawling under the table to relative safety to watch the unfolding chaos. What is wrong with this world!? she thought, watching in horror as a pudgy little ooman strangely no taller than her ran up someone’s back to smash a glass bottle over their head.

Stormy winced as she saw Knott shouting from atop the bar and trying to get the fight to stop. When that failed he pushed his way through the throng to get the ooman’s attention, but he seemed all too eager to join the fighting as soon as the first blow was landed on him.

“Are they crazy!? They’re outnumbered five to one!” Stormy began to bite her hooves as the brawl involving her friends and the huge group of blonde oomans became more and more intense, with both sides landing solid blows on one another with increasing frequency. “I gotta find Merlos!”

Stormy scurried out from under the table and galloped towards the inn’s entrance once a clear spot showed itself. Dodging tussling oomans left and right, she managed to reach the door unhurt.

Made it. Panting, Stormy dashed out just in time, hearing a table smashing against the shut door behind her. Once outside, she ran smack dab into someone.

“Watch i—! Stormy?”

When the stars cleared, Stormy found herself staring up into Merlos’ waist long beard.

“Come back, have you? What in heaven’s name is all that noise?” Merlos only got a glimpse of the inn’s interior as the door slammed shut. “And I’ll have you know it took me forever to get my rope back.” He shook the rope under her snout for emphasis. “I had to convince that farmer I wasn’t trying to steal his property and—”

“Korah matah, Korah rahtahmah!” Stormy suddenly became aware of just how fast her blood was pumping and how out of breath she was. Even her expired language spell didn’t slow her down.

“Oh, spell ran out did it?” Merlos stared at Stormy as she tugged on his robes, still speaking a mile a minute in her gibberish sounding language. “Nyohah keelah— Korah rahtahmah! Syadho!! Keelah!! Korah rahtahmah“.

“Alright, now calm yourself.” He quickly waved his hand and cast his remaining daily allotment for the speech spell. “Now, what’s going o—”

“A mean man was bullying me and then Klee Tusk PUNCHED the guy so hard he flew across the room and-I-thought-he-DIED-but-he-didn’t-and-then-more-guys-showed-up-and-then—!”

Stormy paused for a split second to gasp a deep breath.

“Now the whole tavern is all fighting them! Merlos! Do something!” Stormy panted, waiting to see the old ooman wizard spring into action.

Merlos sighed as he turned to stare at the inn’s front door. “They’re actually brawling? Why am I not surprised?”

Stormy blinked in disbelief as Merlos proceeded to lean against the building’s wall and take out his smelly wooden pipe thing from his dress’ sleeve. “What are you doing!?” she exclaimed.

Fumbling with his tobacco and almost dropping it, Merlos looked over in surprise. “...I’m smoking my pipe and waiting for them to finish. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You aren’t going to help them!?” Stormy looked over with Merlos at a crashing sound as a patron was defenestrated through the inn’s front window in a shower of glass and furniture with an accompanying Wilhelm scream.

Merlos looked down calmly, resuming his smoking. “Nope.”

“Augh!” Stormy hopped over the groaning patron and peeked into the melee still ongoing inside. “But they’re getting beaten to a pulp in there!”

Merlos shrugged. “They’ll be fine. I’m just praying they don’t burn the place down.”

“Fine.” Stormy huffed, her forelegs crossed and a grumpy look upon her face. She then smirked a bit; spreading her wings and taking off in proper Junior Speedsters form. With practiced ease, she stretched out her neck and nipped away Merlos’ hat before the old ooman could so much as look up at what she was doing. She then flew over to the now broken window and tossed it into the chaos inside.

“H-Hey! Why you—” Merlos growled angrily as he marched up to the inn’s door. “Very clever, but we’re talking about all this mischief and disobedience later.”

“Okie dokie lokie! But if anything, this just makes us even again, Merlos.” Stormy announced smugly, and watched intently from the safety of the window as Merlos ducked inside. “Be careful in there!” What he would do to stop the fighting would no doubt be some show of grand magical force, she figured.

Stormy’s jaw dropped as she witnessed Merlos first tap a man standing on his hat on the shoulder, then as he turned around, punched him hard enough across the face to send him spinning into a nearby table.

Stormy covered her eyes with both hooves, wincing. “Okay… didn’t expect that.”

Merlos’ hat perched back upon his head, he began casting what was a clearly a spell. Streaks of wispy air seemed to swirl around his fingertips, then glided up into his mouth and nostrils. When he spoke, Stormy immediately covered her ears with both hooves in surprise.

“Knock it off!” Merlos’ voice suddenly boomed. “You’re all a bunch of reprobates and knob-heads! You haven’t a single functional brain between you all, and the very notion of me wasting my time preventing further concussions on your parts is laughable! Now cease this fighting immedia—!”

Stormy winced again as she saw a stray ale mug whistle out from somewhere in the crowd, and clunk Merlos across the face. The old wizard stood perfectly still with his head canted after the blow the struck.

A dwarven voice guffawed, “Timbeeeeeer!” Merlos then slowly tipped over to collapse on the floor.

The entire inn cheered together.

“Ohhh…” Stormy intoned, watching the calamity inside come to a close. “That had to hurt…”

Merlos winced, holding the ice cubes he’d made with a simple cantrip against the apple-sized bruise he had on his jaw. “I can’t believe you picked a fight with an entire mercenary company.” With his free hand, he did his best to finish his scroll.

Knott shrugged from where he sat leaned against one of the Weiser Budd’s few good railings. “Well, fair enough, but in our defense it did take us about three minutes to start it like I said.”

“We shoulda placed bets,” Ges chimed, and began laughing with his brother. “Good job stepping in though, Merlos. Yeh have our sincere thanks. The lot of them dragged away the unconscious loud-mouth that started everything after your little show-stopper.”

Merlos shook his head in disgust. “Yes, well your little exhibition match cost us our nice warm beds at the inn. A fine example of a paladin you are, Knott.”

Knott ceased his laughter. “Wha’ I kept it above the belt!” He blew out his beard and crossed his arms roughly. “And don’t ye’ go lecturing me on conduct in a fight. I saw ye’ sucker punch that fella’ on yer hat after—”

Stormy sat a ways away from the group, and tuned out the argument unfolding behind her. She paddled her hindlegs in the water lazily where she sat far off at the barge’s rear, the splashing doing a good job of covering their shouts.

She had been astounded to the point of speechlessness after the bar fight. Still, any fear she’d had from being so close to a senseless brawl had quickly and surprisingly faded. “Uggh, I hope I’m not getting used to how crazy everyone here is. Maybe I’m just in shock.” She recalled the incident with Tiki… and the skeletons before that… and with a shudder, her stay in the dungeon when she’d first arrived.

The sound of Merlos muttering something about “reprobates” and “unprincipled degenerates” approached Stormy from behind.

“Hmph, I’d clip my wings for my Joyboy right now,” Stormy muttered angrily.

Merlos looked up from his pacing. “What was that, Stormy?”

Stormy looked around behind herself. “Oh, hey Merlos. Nothing’s wrong, just thinking about… everything that’s happened. I could seriously use a distraction from it.” She sighed and faced out to the passing river waters again.

Merlos tsked. “You’ve got the entirely wrong viewpoint to have of contemplation, Stormy. It is from meditating on our past that we learn from it.”

“Yeah, I know that, but I still don’t want to.” Stormy could feel Merlos’ gaze on her, but she stubbornly avoided making eye contact. “Nevermind, I just can’t help wishing I could keep my mind off things, I guess.”

Merlos hummed. He adjusted his ice pack, wincing as he took a cross legged seat beside Stormy. “That, I can honestly relate to. Unfortunately this boat is only so big and it’s impossible for me to keep my mind on my work with all this company no matter how much ‘wishing’ I do. No offense, of course, you’ve been rather quiet since the inn, actually.”

Stormy chuckled. “Yeah, and none taken.”

“I imagine you aren’t referring to the distractions on the boat though.” As he spoke, Merlos produced parchment and a quill from his robe’s puzzlingly cavernous sleeves and began to doodle. “So, while I’m not the most diplomatic of listeners, if you wish to talk about anything troubling you, don’t hesitate to. I know you’re still getting to know Knott and Ges, as well, but they too will happily lend an ear and their advice. They’re good for more than just teaching basic self defense.”

Stormy considered the old guys’ sentiments, and despite how much she usually reacted to his lecturous tone with indifference, this time it really reminded her of all the adults and teachers she’d left behind back home in Equestria.

“Thanks, Merlos, I will,” Stormy said simply. The smile she gave Merlos was only half from his actual advice.

Merlos nodded smartly, but without looking up from his scroll. “You’re quite welcome.”

The two sat in silence a while, the sound of the water wheels propelling the Weiser Budd through the calm river around them uncharacteristically making the only noise on the normally lively boat for once.

Stormy was staring at the water churned by the barge paddles’ lazy spinning when a question came to her. “So, is this thing running on magic? It’s not coal or wood, because I don’t smell either of those burning.”

Merlos nodded. “Indeed, most observant, Stormy. The ship does make use of a simple magic furnace to produce steam from the water around us. You see, there is a small vat of fire sprites below deck which, when directed correctly by Klee Tusk, react by producing large quantities of heat.”

In response to his nonchalant explanation, Stormy slowly looked over at Merlos, her expression stark. “I see.” After a brief pause, she added, “Is that why he bangs on metal and screams the whole time every few hours? He’s ‘directing’ the sprites?”

Merlos shrugged his knobby shoulders. “Well, I did say it was a simple magic furnace.”

Stormy shook her head and sighed. “That’s kinda mean, isn’t it?”

“A lot of things constitute as mean around here, Stormy. But, if it makes you feel any better, the sprites aren’t being harmed and they have an intelligence equivalent to that of a small bug.”

Stormy grumbled and folded her hooves. “In Equestria something like that would never get used.”

“Yes, well, this isn’t Equestria.” Merlos answered curtly.

The two sat in silence again for a ways down the river, pierced once by Klee Tusk’s screaming, “WAAAAAUGH,” and metal banging below deck, before becoming calm again. A fresh gout of steam poured from the crooked pipe on the barge’s stern.

When Stormy could, she asked Merlos, “So what's a rapper bait? You said that earlier.”

Merlos sighed and corrected her, saying, “Reprobate, or meaning that someone is a rake, a degenerate, or a good-for-nothing.” He leaned against the railing, which bowed out ominously; he sat forward again to keep himself from having an unexpected swim.

Remembering the tavern brawl, Stormy muttered, “No wonder somepony threw a mug at you.”

“Very funny.” Merlos looked up from his doodling, or whatever it was he had been doing most of the time they spent on the boat. He snapped his fingers and a floating sheet of parchment appeared before him and he pulled a quill from his pocket. “Now, unless you’ve more idle chatter, I just completed the scroll I’d been working on.” He then glanced at Stormy with his usual unamused expression. “Since this will be a rather long voyage, let’s talk more about where you came from. We barely scratched the surface of the questions I have notarized for you to answer.”

Stormy sighed and fell back against the boat’s deck to stare up at the sky. “I said I was already bored, not that I wanted to be more bored.”

Merlos harrumphed, as he tended to when getting sassed. “Oh stop that, you’ll be doing us both a favor, you know. And since you’re not reviewing the instruction books I’ve lent you, let’s make good use of our time. Tell me something of your home for my notes. Like, what were you doing before you were taken from your home, in some more detail.”

Stormy perked up, recalling her most recent memories of Equestria. “I remember telling you I was visiting my grandparents in Cloudsdale, preparing for the Best Young Flier's Competition...”

Merlos scrawled it on the parchment. “Yes, I recall you saying something like that. Mmmhm, where would this competition have taken place at?”

Stormy relaxed back again, recalling that fateful day in full detail. “The Rainbow Dash cloudeseum, otherwise known as The Awesome Dome. It’s been held there for the last 19 years.”

Merlos nodded, then paused. “The Awesome Dome?” He deadpanned, and muttered, “You’re joking.”

Stormy put her hooves up in defense and smiled sheepishly. “Nono, that was pretty typical of Rainbow Dash. She was really obsessed with things being cool.”

“Concern with temperature being related to grandeur? Interesting.” Merlos hummed and wrote his last note down.

Stormy suppressed a giggle. “Eh-yeah, something like that. Anyway, she was one of the Elements of Harmony I told you about. And her cloudeseum wasn’t even the most embarrassing sounding national institution founded; Pinkie Pie’s Party Spree Planning Emporium and Fluttershy’s cuddly wuddly animal hospital hold that title.”

Merlos looked up for a moment, blinked twice at Stormy, and went back to taking his notes without a word. “So this competition, ponies in your land come to see this spectacle?”

Stormy grinned. Merlos’ reaction to Equestria’s culture was a typical one, but it never got old. “Yes, unlike the old cloudiseum, which grounded ponies needed magic to walk around on, this one had imbued cloud stone in it so earth ponies and unicorns could walk on it too. The place is massive. Lots of concerts and sporting events take place there.”

Merlos gave his beard a scratch. “Concerts? As in, symphonic?”

Stormy gasped, and hovered up before him, incredulous. “Nonono, yeesh, you go to a theater for that stuff in Canterlot for that snobby stuff. I’m talking about performing pop-artists… Like The Wheatles, Mare-donna, Depeche A-la-Mode, or V.N.V Neigh-tion.”

Merlos adopted a scowl, the sort he made when something Stormy had said sounded like nonsense, but scrawled her recollections onto his scroll nonetheless. “Snobby, huh… So, how do you normally get there?”

Stormy puffed up proudly. “I’d fly there, solo.” She put on a winning smirk. “With my parents usually. Lately on my own or with friends, too.”

Merlos hummed. “Are pegasus children encouraged to roam so free?”

Stormy shrugged. “Why not?”

Merlos barked a laugh. “Monsters, for one. And I imagine if so many of your people can fly so easily that bandits and hit and run raids must be a real nightmare.”

“Yeeeah, not so much.” Stormy rolled her eyes. “Equestria’s pretty… peaceful, and ponies don’t really do that to each other. You still hear about petty crime in the cities sometimes, but honestly it’s pretty safe to go out wherever in the daylight. No monsters near towns, either. So, once we pass flight school and have a magi-tech adapter like a NAVBALL, we’re able to fly pretty much anywhere!”

Merlos gave Stormy a raised brow. “Navball? What is a Navball? That sounds a bit more interesting than the names of your local performers.”

“Hey, those guys are famous!” Stormy sagged where she sat, answering the next bit. “If I had it here I could just show you, but all my stuff was stolen, remember? My violin, my schoolwork, my wallet… I’m so glad I wasn’t wearing my collectors edition wonderbolts cap.”

Merlos nodded. “Well, just do your best to explain this…” he mouthed the word magi-tech that Stormy had used, before saying, “Thing that you mentioned.”

Stormy hummed to herself and thought of how best to explain it, eyes shut. Well, it’s an enchanted item as he would probably understand, but maybe that’s misleading about… As she did, her ears twitched, catching a distant noise beyond the barge’s relatively peaceful movement downriver.

“Huh? What’s that sound?” Stormy looked up and around herself.

Merlos looked up from his notes. “Sound? What sound?”

Stormy took in the surroundings completely, but the same old river and shoreline filled with trees stared back at her. The sound was gone. She shrugged. “I dunno, it was, like, a flag flapping in the wind or something.”

Merlos hummed and stood up, looking to the front of the ship to Knott, who was currently on lookout at the barge’s bow, but had yet to raise any alarm. “It was probably just the trees. Now, about that—”

Stormy kicked off the deck of the ship, “I’m gonna go check it out.” She quickly whisked herself up into the air, ignoring Merlos’ immediate protests from behind to not fly off “willy-nilly”. “I’ll be right back!”

It’s not like you can’t see me clearly or anything. Yeesh. Stormy curved upward into the sky at a sharp angle, rising up over the treetops in moments. Uh oh. From her vantage, she could immediately see what she’d been hearing.

Groups of green oomans, or half-orcs—she had trouble keeping the different names straight in her head—were waving colored flags in a pattern at each other. They were all like Klee Tusk, but even bigger and uglier.

Stormy swallowed hard, spotting the assorted, cruel looking weapons they all seemed to be carrying while moving about quickly. Maybe they’re just guarding a caravan, like us? She put a hoof to her brow and watched for a moment. They wore only pants and red colored runes with handprints on their upper bodies and faces. As she hovered, the green oomans lined the shores and began stringing their bows, and then took aim right at her barge. Orrrr maybe not. Crap baskets.

Stormy shouted down to the barge, “Merlos! There are a bunch of green mans with bows!” As she did, she heard a call from Knott simultaneously yell, “ORC RAIDERS! What are they doin’ this far into Halia? Ges, Thull, getcher bows! Stormy, get below with Klee Tusk! Right now! Stormy? Merlos, where’d she—”

Just then, a shrill chorus like a hundred hungry mosquitos sounded off.

Stormy’s ears focused on their own towards the dark cloud whistling through the air, and her pupils became pinpricks at the sight of so many tiny things hurtling through the air.

“Take cover, lads! Time t’earn our drinkin’ money!” was shouted from below.

“Stormy, get out of the way!” someone else yelled.

Wide eyed, Stormy watched as the cloud quickly became a swarm of sharp shafts and barbed tips. She discovered they weren’t aimed at her but rather into the sky as they began to slow down, reaching their apex and begin their fall towards the barge. She had an idea.

Stormy dashed off to the side as the arrows started towards her friends, who were taking cover behind ale casks. Once hovering in position, she leaned back, mind focused, then pitched forward using both her wings.

The sudden gale of wind caught the arrows in a weather effect and they fell into a useless, chaotic mess on the far riverbank and in the shallows, missing the watercraft entirely.

“Yes!” Stormy shouted, while at the same time noticing from the corner of her eye another cloud launching out of the trees. “Oh no you don’t!” She repeated the same maneuver, swimming through the air in a backstroke to get into position at the missile cloud’s side.

There were shouts from the green oomans below and many of them were pointing up in her direction now. Several of the archers turned to face Stormy and another smaller cloud was quickly loosed.

Stormy took in a deep breath then blew, using her control of the weather to swat away the third cloud of arrows with her right wing, and her left wing to help her dodge the forth cloud. A few seconds later the intercepted arrows fell unsuccessfully towards the right of the barge once again.

Blood curdling cries of protest from green oomans on the shore rose up at the sight of their failed volleys.

Breathing hard, Stormy hovered in place, ready and watching for more, adrenaline pumping through her. Glancing below, she could see her friends all returning fire, each in their own way. Except for Klee Tusk, who was nowhere to be seen.

One of the orcs climbed atop a rock then—the orc was a female with few vestments over her body, feathers tied into her greasy mane, and skulls and bones around her shoulders like a necklace made of cruelty. Under her direction, more orcs sprinted out of the treeline, all of them carrying thin, sleek looking watercraft over their heads. She then shrieked with an earsplitting battlecry that turned Stormy’s blood to ice the instant she heard it. Another cloud of arrows was launched at her command.

“Stormy, get down here this instant!” Merlos’ voice rose from the ground, clearly now using his voice projection spell. “They’re targeting you!”

“I’m a little busy!” Stormy repeated her last maneuver, taking in a deep breath and swiping a wing to send the arrows to the left. This is getting tiring.

Stormy bit her lip, getting worried as she saw the orc lady command another volley to be readied. And she must be the leader.

“WAAAUUUGH!”

An answering battle cry came from the barge’s direction, beneath Stormy. She looked down in time to see a hatch open up at the barge’s center, Klee Tusk sitting atop something that looked suspiciously like Pinkie Pie’s party cannon from the Canterlot Element’s of Harmony museum.

“Whaaat is—” Before Stormy could process what she was looking at, a massive ball of fire exploded out of Klee Tusk’s not-party cannon and screamed across water’s surface. The resulting impact on the shore sent orc archers and boat carriers alike flying. As the fire splashed along the coastline, orcs scrambled out of the bushes and away from their now burning boats.

“Hawhaw! It is good to fight!” Klee Tusk cheered, and a second blast fired even as he cheered, steam shooting up from the river in its wake. “And better to win!”

“There, now get clear, damn you!” Merlos boomed over the cannon’s din.

The green woman again shrieked like a banshee in her horrible ear splitting language, cutting Merlos off.

Suddenly, the tree canopy upriver exploded into dead debris as a pair of large, winged beasts soared up into the sky. The creatures were snake-like, two legged monsters with bat wings extending off their wicked looking bodies. A gnarled group of horns and spines split their vaguely lion-like faces, making them the stuff of a sane person’s nightmares. A heavy looking saddle rested upon their backs, a bridle fitted to its face using grafts and piercings. An axe head attached to the edge of its tail and claws tipped with metal curving out from its feet and wings completed its appearance.

One of the monsters swooped low along the bank, and the orc woman leaped smoothly into the saddle upon its back, while the other was already diving sharply towards the boat.

The riders were almost as terrifying as their beasts. Each held a long crooked lance with one muscled arm. Their saddles had a multitude of brown clay bottles and skulls hanging at their side. The green oomans vestments were what set their intentions to everyone; what at first looked like strange olive colored leather plates, were clearly stretched out ooman faces adorning its body. Some of the faces even had their facial hair still on them.

Stormy’s eyes widened, fear already chilling her spine as she gawked at them, unmoving.

A dwarf voice from below shouted, “Wyvern riders! Two of ‘em right o’erhead!”

With only a few ferocious flaps of its wings, the monstrous cavalry were in the air and closing the distance in seconds. Stormy watched the one that had gone to dive bomb at the ship drop its clay bottles onto the deck, now prickled with a few arrows.

Even as the ship was bathed in flames, Merlos shouted an incantation to shove the burning grease-like substance off the deck.

With the exception of her wing flaps, Stormy stayed paralyzed by the sudden appearance of the things.

“Stormy, snap out of it!”

The sight of the orc woman screaming another battle cry and her mount climbing into the sky filled Stormy’s vision. Her relative safety in the sky had vanished.

“Dodge!” somebody shouted.

“Ah!” After a brief flashback to summer camp and camp counselor Piping Piccolo’s dodgeball tournaments, Stormy turned around in that instant as commanded. She reached her hooves out and flew as fast as her wings could carry her, her muscles burning, while the wyvern rider quickly gained on her, leading with the tip of its lance.

“Why me!? Why-me-why-me-whyme!?” Stormy yawed hard, narrowly avoiding the lance as it whistled by, and heard the unmistakable sound of snapping jaws. “W-W-Woah!” Her body tumbled end over end for a second, the air stream from the winged creature big enough to catch her.

Stormy half sobbed, half panted, her mind racing as she stabilized, and began zooming off without looking in the opposite direction as fast as she could. “She’s faster than me!? How is it faster than me!?” She tried to go even faster, not sure if her fear was sapping her strength or if the giant bat-thing somebody had called a “wyvern” really was just that quick.

“Go away! Go attack Merlos!” she called over her shoulder, peeking just enough to see if it was there again.

“Stormy, look out!”

Stormy looked down at the voice instinctively, and just in time to see the other wyvern fill her vision, its jaws spread wide and reaching for her.

Time seemed to slow down for Stormy. Her wing beats became a million years apart, and she even had time to be aware of her own gasp, the single flap she made to dodge the wyvern, and the fact that the flap would never move her out of the way in time.

Already consigned to her fate, Stormy also had time to see the growing blue light behind the great winged beast lunging for her, and wonder what it was.

A boom filled the sky.

Before Stormy even knew what had happened, she was tumbling in the air again and fighting to regain her balance. A ringing noise was the only sound she could hear. She could still feel the rush of air though, and that told her innate pegasus instincts enough.

“AAAH! AH! Wha—!?” The scent of burning flesh and char filled her nose even as her wings caught her again and the world stopped spinning. “Ow, my ears.” She winced; the boom, whatever it had been, clearly had done some damage to her, too, with its sound alone.

Stormy fought to understand what had happened. As she did, she caught sight of the second wyvern below her, the one that had almost gotten her, falling towards the river, its rider motionless.

“Holy poop.” Stormy stared at the the sight, aghast.

From the barge, large blue orbs of crackling electric balls arced into the air and raced over the water’s surface, the same ones that must have made that blue glow the first time. Once again, they splashed with a familiar crack of thunder against her assailants for a finishing blow, even as they splashed into the water.

Stormy looked at the orbs’ source, and saw Merlos atop the barge’s deck, his eyes aglow with bluish power and his beard flapping in the wind like some kind of banner. He was shouting something up to her, hands cupped, but she couldn’t hear it over the ringing. She gulped, breathing in relief, and even as she did, the ringing still in her ears was pierced by the orc’s screeching banshee of a leader.

Soar! Move upward!

The voice was like a painful echo in her head.

Stormy listened to the voice and moved without thinking, the situation clicking in her thoughts. She flapped hard and went up, instead of diving or dodging to the left or right like her instincts told her to. She flipped upright, and once corrected she saw the first wyvern scream downward in the air, clearly having just missed her after an attack dive. Her eyes locked with its rider, the orc woman, and the rage she felt directed toward her in that moment was more intense than anything she’d felt before.

The wyvern wheeled about in the sky, and was quickly climbing back up into the air towards her.

“Aw, come on!” Stormy was tired, and now her head hurt for some reason, but nonetheless she flung herself backward to flee her chaser. The great beast and its rider once again gained on her.

Hearing another nearby battlecry, Stormy screamed, “How are you fast!?” over her shoulder, and just in time to spot and avoid getting struck by the orc’s lance.

Stormy went full on evasive.

Stormy was feeling particularly overwhelmed as the orc leader began trying to spear her, and all she could do was dodge. Every time she thought she could escape, another weapon appeared out of nowhere and would nearly skewer her or cut her. No matter how hard she tried, the two kept her on the run, narrowly spearing her as she spun, twirled and threw herself to and fro in a less than graceful flight.

Where is Merlos and his magic when I need him!? For whatever reason he wasn’t firing another spell, she couldn’t figure it out while fighting for her life.

She cried as the wyvern swept back and nearly raked her with its claws, its gigantic metal covered talons tickling across her side. She knew if it got any closer, she would be one wing closer to an earth pony. Her pelt stood on end and she turned into a spiral to avoid the roaring jaws of the wyvern coming from her side.

The wyvern careened past her, buying her time.

During this brief respite, Stormy had an idea, and it scared her to no end. Wiping the tears of terror and the wind from her eyes, she gave chase to the remaining wyvern in front of her, rather than flee from it. At least with it in front of her she could keep a better eye on it. She knew now the wyverns could fly faster than her, but their maneuvering seemed lacking. She grinned shakily upon forming the strategy.

“Aha! So that’s your weakness.”

Stormy’s brief moment of pride lasted a second longer, right up until the wyvern flared its wings and turned mid-air as it came to a full on stop right in front of her.

“Ah! Not a weakness!” Stormy gasped, flaring her own wings and narrowly missed being struck by the orc leader’s lance.

The orc screamed something guttural in its language angrily as Stormy beat her wings to increase her distance from them. “Why are you so angry!?” she yelled back in response.

Tired, desperate, and still being chased, Stormy was out of ideas. She just wanted to get away, and to that end she pulled up hard into a steep climb moving as fast as she could. She looked back again at the wyvern, remembering its unbelievable ability to climb so fast despite its size, and was relieved to see herself pulling away this time from the panting beast.

It must be tired. Stormy’s relief didn’t last long, very aware that she, too, was tired. I don’t think I can keep this up. Just quit, you stupid jerks! Her eyes again locked with the orc rider, who in response let out a mighty, “WAAAUUUGGGHHHHH!”

“That’s it!” Stormy’s desperation flashed into flat-out anger, mirroring her opponent’s.

Stormy braked hard and flipped around in the air, but rather than dodge around the rider, she turned into a dive and headed straight towards her. The panting wyvern wasn’t ready, and gave a half-hearted nudge of its horns at her. The orc warchief herself looked surprised, and her lance strike was also too slow.

Stormy dodged both the wyvern and rider alike easily, so easily that it surprised her and she almost didn’t get her legs up in time. At the last second, she put all four of her hooves into the chest of the orc, who let out a gratifying, Augh! Her intentional collision sent the orc tumbling right out of her saddle.

Now falling, Stormy compressed her legs in like springs, and roughly sprung away from the orc’s body.

“I did it! I did i— Ah!” Stormy felt something pull her head back and suddenly found herself in a downward tumble with the orc flailing beside her and holding onto her mane with a death grip. “Hey, let go!”

The orc snarled at her, and began to fight against the rushing wind to ineffectually swipe at her with a glinting steel spike.

“Come on, you lost already, you big sore loser!” Stormy snuck in a blow of her own, landing a hard kick right at the mean lady’s face.

Blood globbed out of her nose, and her grip released as she was kicked away.

“Serves you right!” Stormy grunted, and pulled out of her dive. Just in time too, as moments later she watched the orc splash into the river’s waters at full speed. Her own hooves dragged a little against the water as she glided in toward the barge.

Stormy’s emotions were a blur, but after the sight of her pursuer disappearing beneath the river’s surface, excitement took the forefront. Her hooves clopped loudly on the deck as she made her landing. It wasn’t the graceful touch down she tried for, rather a shaky stagger, but she felt like she played it off well enough.

“Tah-dah! Who’s the mare!? Who? Yeah, me, that’s right! Hah, guys, d-did you see all that!? Oh my gosh I am—”

“Get down, Stormy!” Knott dove from out of nowhere, tackling her to the deck of the barge.

Breathless, Stormy blinked away her shock, looking around. Arrows pin-cushioned the spot where she had landed. “Knott!, you saved me!” She looked gratefully to the dwarf, who was wincing as he sat up, his broad shield already blocking more incoming strikes. Her eyes fell on a pool of blood, and an injury her friend had. “AH! Knott, your knee!”

“What? Ah, tha’s a scratch. Impressive show you put on there! I had trouble concentrating on fending off boarders with all’a tha’ goin’ on.” Knott laughed as he talked like the battle was no big deal, his arms busily turning a weird handle on a weirder t-shaped thing that had a string and a short metal arrow mounted on it.

Stormy’s eyes bugged out as she stared at his wound, only half listening to him. “A scratch! It’s stuck clean through the back of your leg! There’s blood everywhere! Ohmygoshohmygosh! What do I do?” She shut up as Knott roughly—well, it was likely gently for him—took her face with his off hand and he made eye contact.

“It is a scratch, Stormy. Now do what ah say: go to Merlos and keep out of trouble.” As Knott spoke, he set down his stringed weapon and his hands began to glow; after pressing them to his wound, the arrow popped out not a second later. “This fight’s almost over—” Knott rose up and limped past Stormy to cleave his sword into an orc that was just climbing aboard the barge. The orcish arrow that had hobbled his step was clearly still affecting him. “—But not quite yet! We jus’ gotta hold until we're past the danger!” Turning his sword flat, he used it to smack some fingers clutching the rail, causing its orcish owner to yowl in protest.

“But you’re hurt!” Stormy snatched a flower pot off the side of the barge—it was a sorry looking plant barely holding onto life, but she used it to good effect and dropped it upon the orc, knocking it into the river with a loud splash.

“Get tah Merlos!” Knott said more forcefully, hefting up his shield. “Not gonna repeat myself again!”

“R-Right, get to Merlos! Gotcha!” Stormy nodded jerkily this time.

With that, she raced off, and found that the deck of the barge was almost unrecognizable. Arrows sticking up everywhere aside, there were scorch marks all over everything. Ges and Captain Thull were fending off three orcs ringed around them at the boat’s front, while Klee Tusk was madly swinging a tree’s worst nightmare of an axe at an enemy while standing atop his cannon. Ges whirled around with a pair of dwarf size scimitars, slicing the orcs into submission before kicking them through the railing or shouldering them off the vessel.

Altogether, there seemed to be barely any of the dozens of orcs left from the shore that had initiated the battle.

Merlos, however, was nowhere to be seen.

“What the hay, where is he?” Stormy panted, confused as she reached the spot she had last seen him, only to gasp as she felt a hand touch her back, and a following chill run up her spine.

“You’re an idiot, Stormy. You could have died up there!” Merlos’ disembodied voice declared.

Stormy whirled about, ready to yell at him that she knew that, and that she felt like barfing, and a hundred other things, and it all just sort of happened too fast, but the words died in her throat when she didn’t see anyone behind her.

“And furthermore, you disobeyed us completely! You said you’d listen to me in these situations! That was not optional!”

Stormy just said the first explanation she could think of that explained his disembodied voice. “Ah! Merlos died and became a ghost!”

“Oh for the gods’ sakes. Look, I turned invisible after my shield spell ran out.” Merlos sounded rather fed up at this point. More so than usual, that is.

Stormy gasped. “Whoa, cool.”

Merlos spoke over her. “Again, temperature has nothing to do with it. A wizard without defenses is simply asking to become a target, and the others are too busy to aid me.” A screech from overhead drew both their gazes skyward. The riderless wyvern circled there, like a buzzard ready to tear apart a wounded prey. “However, it seems I can no longer afford to gather my arcane resources. Stand back, Stormy, while I deal with this foul beast.”

Stormy watched in awe as Merlos reappeared, his magical veil of invisibility fading away first from his hands—now wreathed in flame—and slowly spread to his body. She looked up at the Wyvern, who suddenly seemed to notice her, and immediately dove towards them and shriek a beastial cry of success.

“Ah!” Stormy jabbed a hoof up at it, as if the wyvern wasn’t perfectly obvious to everyone around her. “It’s coming, it’s coming! Merlos, do your magic thing!”

“No, I was going to stand here and let it devour us all.” Merlos took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. When they opened again, they were alight with a reddish hue and surrounded by licks of flame. “Don’t order me about and stop distracting me! Now stand back, I need perfect concentration for this spell.” With that, he began chanting, and moving his arms and hands in a very precise, practiced series of motions.

"You got it, Merlos. I’ll just cheer you on. Go Merlos! Whoo! Yeah! Cook its butt!" Stormy hovered up and put a hoof around Merlos’ shoulder while using her other to point up at the wyvern.

"What—?" The shroud of power swirling about Merlos suddenly abated and he became quiet, at least until he yelled, “You fool! Get off me!”

Stormy blinked, confused as to why Merlos didn’t cast his spell. "Where's the boom? What happened?" she asked, getting out of his way.

"You happened, you reprobate!" Merlos quipped angrily.

"Hey! You can't say that, jerk! I know what it means now." Stormy protested back, yelling just as loud as Merlos was, all the while growing more panicked as the wyvern got closer.

“Magic requires complete concentration! Unwavering willpower! Focus!” Merlos gestured to and fro, his beard swaying in time with his movements. “Something which you are positively the anti-thesis of!”

“Alright alright! I get the idea, I’m sorry, so just cast another spell! Hurry!” Stormy abandoned her pretense of arguing back, getting terrified as the wyvern was only seconds from reaching them.

“I would but I can’t now! Even if I had another spell powerful enough to outright kill a wyvern, my focus is shattered—!”

A piercing scream from the wyvern in its attack gave them barely enough warning.

"Duck!" Merlos and Stormy screamed together, diving off the barge and into the water.

Not a moment after, Klee Tusk ran into the wyvern's path.

"Goose!" the half-orc yelled, and flung his axe into the beast's open maw. The edge of the axe cleaved through the soft pallet of the wyvern’s mouth and halted just beyond its thick skull. The beast pitched to the side, head dragging along the deck, and fell into a rolling tumble as its wings went limp.

The wyvern slid, lifeless, off the barge and into the river with a loud, unceremonious splash. In moments, the only sign the wyvern had been there was the growing red and brown cloudy plume in the water, and a gleefully laughing half-orc laying on deck with his arm bent the wrong way.

Merlos and Stormy both resurfaced from the river, with Stormy leaping back into the air smoothly, if coughing and sputtering, and Merlos clumsily hauling his sodden robed self up with the help of the barge’s railings.

“Well, I must say,” Merlos half coughed, half spoke, “that couldn’t have been timed any better.” Merlos couldn’t help himself and grinned at the sudden defeat of the last major threat. “Good job there, Klee Tusk.”

“Haw! Was okie. Not Klee Tusk’s best wurk.” Klee Tusk gave his ruined arm a wobble. “Follow through also nawt so good, but next time I stick tha landing better. Maybe not lose my best axe, too.” Grinning, he turned to Stormy, whose eyes were still watching the reddish cloud quickly falling behind them. “Performance by lil’ horse Stormy waz made that look like small pebbles! Good wurk!” With a laugh, he slapped Stormy on the back with his good arm.

“AH!” Stormy screamed, and seemed to be shaken out of a daze. She looked around with a panicked expression at who had hit her, saw Klee Tusk’s broken arm, and screamed again while simultaneously hyperventilating. “AAAAHAHHHH! AH!” Her screaming only seemed to increase as she started to see the bodies of falling orcish raiders still on the barge’s deck, and began running around like a chicken with its head cut off.

“Stormy, calm down! The fight’s over and you’re unharmed! Amazingly.” Merlos waited for Stormy to respond positively, but she just kept on screaming. “And stop running around! You’ll slip.”

“Hm. Me thinkin’ she’s broken.” Klee Tusk scratched a ruddy green hand behind his thick orcish skull.

“Stormy! Is everythin’ alrigh’, lass?” Ges approached, his brother behind him checking bodies, then throwing them overboard. When he didn’t get a response as she ran by him, he turned to Merlos.

“Oh, she’ll be fine. Probably. She’s unharmed, at least. You three worry about yourselves.” Merlos sighed, busily wringing out his robes and paying the pegasus no mind. “Really I’m amazed she waited until the end of the fight to do this. Hmph, wish I had to spell left to dry these...”

Ges’ bushy brow furrowed, and he turned roughly to chase after the hysterical filly.

“What? Do you disagree?” Merlos blustered at Ges’ going, and turned instead to Knott, who paid him no mind. “What did I say?”

Knott looked up for the briefest second from inspecting Klee Tusk’s arm. “Just tha’ usual I think, Merlos, but Ges is right, you could be a bit more sympathetic. Stormy’s sort of reaction’s normal for first timers. It isn’t for everyone.” After making a very unpleasant face, he set about helping Klee Tusk. “I just hope this doesn’t make her terrified of these situations or yeh’ll hafta—”

“BY CELESTIA’S BEARD! Did you guys SEE THAT!? It was amazing! I was amazing! I am so excited and full of adrenaline right now! Ahaha WHOO! Let’s go find an Ursa Minor next! And then—!”

Merlos and Knott shared a brief glance, then rolled their eyes in unison.

Grilka fumed as she pulled herself from the river’s rushing waters.

“BOW!” she screamed immediately.

Dutifully, one of the remaining raiders from her warband tromped forward. “Too far, boss. You’ll never—”

Grilka snatched the large recurve bow from the raider in the same moment that her punch sent him flying for doubting her. She smoothly nocked a dangerous and sickly looking barbed arrow, and sought out her target. Thick sinews drew taught as the arms of the bow strained under her strength. As she held the bow high, her back muscles straining, she bade the arrow to “fall” in place with a silent prayer to her god.

Grilka pointed with her index finger at the nuisance that had ruined what should have been a simple raid. The pesky creature would pay dearly for spotting her ruthless reputation.

“Bye bye, liddle burdy.” She inhaled, the little pony hovering above the barge giving her a clear shot. On her exhaling pause she let the arrow fly, guided by her prayer.

Even as the arms of the bow still vibrated, Grilka screeched a cry of retreat. She stood there just long enough to witness her arrow as it arced into the air, before planting itself unerringly on target in a cloud of feathers.

Three days later.

The river widened more and more as the Weiser Budd went further south, until farm and swampland alike began to line the banks instead of forest. A few houses dotted the landscape, though the closest ones seemed abandoned and swallowed by the river as if they’d been flooded out. On the horizon slowly grew a cityscape, no doubt the aforedescribed capital city of Halia.

Dew clung to the blades of grass and crops, while the peasants living in these lands were already working hard alongside first light. The scene was peaceful, serene, and pleasant so early in the morning. That is, except for the loud peeling whine of what sounded for miles around to be a young adolescent girl. Aboard the miserly barge which the owner of the sound road upon, however, was no young girl.

“Waaahaaahaah!” Stormy cried, her front hooves and her one good wing thrown over her eyes.

“Oh stop your whining!” Merlos burst out, glaring across the barge’s deck at his sobbing companion. “Klee Tusk has it much worse and you don’t see him complaining.”

Klee Tusk hiccuped from nearby, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge his name being spoken.

Stormy sniffed, looking over her shoulder at her poor wing, which was held up in a sling similar to Klee Tusk’s. “T-That’s just cause he got drunk after Knott put his arm in a sling, but I’m too young to dr-hi-hiink!”

Merlos tsked angrily. “That numbing medicine I gave you is far better for you than whatever Klee Tusk’s guzzling, believe me.”

Stormy sniffled harder. “B-But it’s grape flavor-her-heard!”

“It’s not my fault if you won’t drink it like you’re supposed to! Of course your wing is going to keep hurting!” Merlos slapped his book shut harshly and stood, groaning in protest from stress alone. “It’s been three days, Stormy! You have been belly-aching nonstop, and it’s well past time you—”

“Oh, wow! Is that the city?” Stormy gingerly stood up, careful not to jostle her post-battle battle wound, as Knott had been affectionately referring to it.

Merlos sighed and threw his head back. “Yes, that’s Halia, the capital. Hopefully we can find a cleric desperate enough for work that I won’t spend the last contents of my wallet knitting that wing bone of yours.”

Knott harrumphed from where he sat. He was smoking his pipe with his back to Merlos at the boat’s side, one leg dangling lazily over the deck’s edge. “Ungrateful’s what you are, Merlos.”

“Ungrateful?” Merlos squared off against Knott. “I’m being realistic, not ungrateful. A paladin’s magic is merely serviceable on the battlefield, but severe injuries require more. If it makes you feel better, even I couldn’t make a potion or tincture that could do more than merely speed a person's natural healing process. At least, I could not make one without the materials Stormy ruined.

Knott nodded along. “Oh, aye, even the great Merlos could’nay do it. I gotcha.”

“Now stop that—”

“Hey! You said you’d stop bringing that up!” Stormy interjected.

Captain Thull barged his way in, coming between the three with arms raised. “Alright alright! Alla ya’ quit yer belly achin’ and make ready. Tha docks’re a comin’ up and Klee Tusk’s in no condition to get us anchored and unloaded. Ges, get ‘im aboard tha life boat.”

As Klee Tusk himself hiccuped as if to respond to his name, Ges popped up from the hatch leading to the engine. His face and beard were covered in soot, while a pair of ruddy goggles rested over his eyes. “Aye, it would nay kill you all to help out a little.”

Knott sighed and stood. “Happy to help, Cap’n.”

Captain Thull nodded appreciatively and turned to Merlos.

“What? You want me to help too?” Merlos scoffed. “That wasn’t exactly what I was brought on for.” He turned to Ges leading the half-orc to the ship’s edge, finding it odd.

Knott grinned toothily through his beard, interjecting, “Well, ye’ can lend a hand or ye’ can pay for your own stay at the inn, Merlos. If ye’ think your coin purse can handle it.”

“But— Gavlan isn’t paying us until… we get back.” Merlos sighed wearily, feeling trapped and bullied. “Very well. Nonetheless I feel it necessary to point out that’s dirty play, especially for a paladin.”

The barge creaked and groaned noisily as always while coming up to a free jetty with a crane large enough for unloading cargo. A man sporting a distinctive hat with feathers lining its tall brim approached their boat and directed a sneer at the barge—no doubt entirely for its sorry appearance.

“I’ll lend a hoof, too!” Stormy volunteered with a lousy salute.

“I think you’ll be better off sittin’ this out, Stormy. You’d best follow me, too. Just take this rowboat to the pier there.” Ges began leading her to the side of the barge where, strangely, Klee Tusk was drunkenly hopping down into the sad row boat that passed for the barge’s life raft.

“Uh, okay.” Stormy raised an eyebrow at the strange development, but went along with it. “Aren’t we about to dock though— And hey, this boats full of holes from our fight!” Her protest, however, was too late.

“Alright, Ges, get ready to jump! ANCHOR AHOY!” Captain Thull announced, and proceeded to pull a large lever from within’ the barge’s shed. A loud series of ominous wooden crunching and metal popping sounds came from within the ship's hull. Shortly after, several fire sprites exploded out from between the deck boards, showering the boat in sparks and setting the old timbers aflame.

Stormy let out a shriek of surprise, then quickly hopped into the rowboat, holes or no holes.

Not needing any further explanation, Ges lept from the side, leading the land dwelling war ponies into the water with ease thanks to his druidic powers.

Merlos and Knott, meanwhile, stood there mystified, watching as everything unfolded around themselves in abject horror and confusion.

“What’s the meaning of all this?” Merlos started to follow Captain Thull as he walked past him to the barge’s front, chuckling all the way. “What are those noises?”

Knott shrugged, just as shocked. “I think that’d be the ship’s death knell, Merlos. Abandon ship!” The cannonball dive his heavy form made in the bay sent a veritable geyser up into the air.

Merlos, too angry to abandon ship yet, pursued the elf. “Captain, are you listening to me?”

From the safety of the rowboat, Stormy watched while the Weiser Budd, in all of its derelict majesty, broke apart as if all the glue, adhesive tape, and nails throughout the hull had suddenly vanished.

As Thull casually walked to the bow of the mighty Weiser Budd, the ship seemed to come apart behind him like a giant zipper. After a jaunty step onto the dock from the very tip of the barge’s upturning prow, Captain Jethro Thull turned to see the last of his ship break apart within the Halian river bay. He then waved at Merlos as water quickly swamped up his ankles. “Oh no, one o’ me crew didn’t make it off the ship!”

“Damned elf!” Merlos shouted in protest at Jethro, just before losing his balance and splashing into the murky water clumsily. “Not again!” he shouted.

Stormy, receiving no help from the drunken half-orc, rowed over and splashed her tail at Merlos. “Grab my tail, I’ll help pull you in.”

With an annoyed growl, Merlos retorted, “No, I’ll just tip that flotsam raft! I can swim just fine!” He splashed furiously behind Stormy while she floated the rowboat to a nearby pier.

Stormy stared in confusion at the last bit of their ship as it sank beneath the bay’s waters. The little bubbles that surfaced shortly after were the only signs it was ever there at all. “I guess this means we’re not riding back in that boat, huh Merlos?”

Merlos was busily trying his best to clamber up onto the pier, his sodden robes and drooping wizard’s hat weighing him down. He spit a stream of water out and grumpily parted his soaked hair with both hands before answering sullenly. “Very astute, Stormy. Very astute. And let it be known that from this day on, I’m preparing a drying spell no matter the occasion...”

In the bay, kegs of beer began floating up just shy of the surface and dockworkers quickly went into action to retrieve them, tossing nets over the beer tuns and kegs to keep them from floating away. The dock workers then used cranes to lift each great cask onto the pier, and from there into awaiting wagons.

While all this went on, Jethro pulled his hat off his head and placed it over his heart, humming some folksy elven bluegrass tune in memory of the late Weiser Budd. When he finished, he looked to Stormy with a smile and placed his hat back on his head while the formerly sneering dockmaster stared slack jawed at the Wieser Budd’s murky grave.

“Was that supposed to happen?” Stormy gave the empty waters a doubtful look as she trotted up, to which the captain replied only by shushing her.

“Well, it seems an ill fate hath befallen my poor, battle weary vessel, something for which I own a healthy insurance package! And so I’m off!” Captain Thull produced said insurance papers from his pocket, and casually strolled down to the office to make a claim.

Meanwhile, Merlos tantrumed about their voyage’s soggy end, fuming to anyone listening about Captain Thull’s candor.

In the midst of everything, Klee Tusk chortled, saying, “Oi, Merlos, now youse really a washed up wizard! Hawhaw!” In between laughs he took more swigs from his jug.

As Merlos clenched his fists tightly, ready to push the sloshed half-orc into the bay for the remark, the sounds of hooves clambering onto the pier and heavy bootsteps distracted him away from the action.

“Phew, sorry about that Merlos,” Ges said quietly, still calming his huffing warpony. “Had to make that look legit, you know? So you, Stormy and my brother weren’t informed. Well, we didn’t inform Knott because, you know, paladins and insurance fraud don’t mix.”

Merlos shook his head in disgust. “I am bereft of surprise…”

A sopping wet, gauntleted hand broke out of the water and slapped down on the piers edge. “Bwaugh! Ges! What’d yeh do!?”

Ges chuckled, and helped his brother up. “Well, it’s a funny story… but the good news is it’s worth some gold.”

While explanations were given, Stormy left her companions behind in order to look around at the Halian dock district, the hustle and bustle of a daytime city in full swing all around.

Stormy’s gaze first caught on an imposing sight in the distance. She began staring at gleaming towers that reached above the rough-tiled buildings of the docks, making their presence known to anyone within miles. “Oh cool, a castle.”

Stormy immediately wanted to take flight and go get a closer look… but the ache still in her shoulder was a constant reminder that she was going to be grounded for some time yet. Well, it’s not a big loss… they aren’t as colorful or sparkly as the ones from Canterlot, even if they are tall.

Lower to the ground and in the more immediate area, Stormy could see a connecting flea market, warehouses, shops, stalls, and more near the docks.

Among the more interesting of the lot was a fishmonger offering, “Absolutely ill-tempered sea bass, with minimal mutations!”; one ooman selling fine silks, exotically patterned from allegedly Forgotten Realms; a merchant selling Golarion brand accordions; some long eared oomans, like Jethro but cleaner, selling “Ebberonian Skub” and Faerunian marbles; an exotic pet saleswoman hocking gryphon eggs from Azeroth; and lastly a blacksmith from Talislanta offering quality cutlery for chefs.

How can it be forgotten if they know of it? Stormy was in awe at all the neat stuff, and she found herself feeling much like she had on her school trip to the Gryphon lands back in Equestria. Dang, I wish I had some money for souvenirs… She looked back doubtfully at Merlos, who was currently yelling angrily at Captain Thull, and concluded that if she was going to ask then it’d have to be later after he’d calmed down.

“Stormy!” Merlos’ still-angry voice called.

Stormy nearly jumped out of her skin. “Y-Yes?” she stammered, turning about to face him.

Merlos strode past her, not slowing. “I told you a thousand times not to wander once we got here. So stay close! The city is no place for a young… uh, lady to be about on her own. Now, we’re first headed to the inn to dry off and avoid catching cold.”

The rest of their group was a little ways back, now with a couple wagons heavily laden with what looked to be the barrels from their barge. Knott and Ges skillfully guided the team of horses they’d procured through the crowds, while Klee Tusk and Thull sat atop them with the reigns.

With a sigh, and welcoming the thought of their trip’s end, Stormy trotted alongside Merlos, who led the way with wet, squishy sounds coming from his still soaked boots.

Stormy hummed in interest as they kept on down the wide avenue. She quickly notice that, rather than transform into muddy or cobblestone streets, the paths remained constructed of heavy timbers. Stopping at one point to peer below, she could see through a crack that there was several feet of empty air between the planks and filthy water below.

“Much of the old city’s outskirts were submerged by tidal activated decades ago. But, much like nature, civilization always finds a way.”

Stormy looked up to see a smirking Merlos. “So the whole city’s like this?” she asked.

Merlos shook his head. “No all of it. The city’s keep and walled districts were always built upon a high cliff, and have escaped the peasant’s water-logged predicament. Still, it was a rather inconvenient situation getting flooded every year, and so now Halia is like this.”

“Well, it’s neat, but it’s no Canterlot.” Stormy settled in to studying all of the buildings and the occasional opening that lead to a channel filled with smaller boats and people.

As Stormy went on with her party deeper into the city, she began to feel a strange unease. “Huh?” After their few good minutes of walking, an unsettled feeling fell over her, as if she had been spotted by the teacher while passing notes in class.

Stormy looked around nervously, her tail lashing around behind her as she searched. The city streets and various stares from strangers seemed no different here than anywhere else, and so she looked up. Above her, the fluttering of wings from various cooing pigeons and seagulls seemed just as innocuous, but still, something felt wrong.

The group made its way onward, and Stormy continued looking around skittishly as she kept close to Merlos.

“Ohhh, are those half off!?” Merlos, letting the wagons get ahead, paused to look at a stall of potions and elixirs. He picked up one vial with interest, and hurriedly purchased the substance that looked like orange soda…

Stormy stopped with him, and psst’d at Merlos to surreptitiously gain his attention. “Hey, I think we’re being watched,” she whispered. “Like something’s keeping an eye on us.”

Merlos harrumphed, not looking up from his browsing. “Stormy, we’re in a marketplace where beggars, pickpockets, brigands and wary shopkeeps are going to watch every move we make.”

Stormy shook her head vehemently. “No no no! Not like that… It feels like it’s from the sky.”

Merlos harrumphed, not keen on anything except getting indoors and drying his sodden clothes. “Perhaps it’s your nerves acting up, since you can’t fly right now and you’re in a strange place, hm? Relax, there’s no need to be a nervous nelly, Stormy.”

Stormy still looked around them, searching the area and checking above. “R-Right. Kinda like Daring do, moving through the jungle in the Sapphire Stone.” She gulped, and just as she looked away from Merlos, spotted a shadow darting across the ground.

With a gasp, Stormy looked up, only to see a lone black feather twirling aimlessly to the ground. “Then again, Daring was also being stalked by Ahuizotl…”

Merlos gave a noncommittal reply, still wringing water from his robes while browsing. “Yes, yes, Zotl. Always about the Zotls. I’m shopping. On second thought, go bother Knott and Ges.”

Stormy glared at Merlos for a few seconds while he casually browsed another random stall. “Didn’t you just tell me to stay where you could see me and to not wander off?” Her voice took on an edge the more she spoke. “Like, a dozen times a day you’d repeat that to me!”

Merlos made a shooing motion, not looking her way. “I trust you enough to follow everyone else to the inn and stay put. Better you go and get some rest for that broken wing of yours than risk bumping it out here in the streets while I’m running my errand, don’t you think?”

Stormy almost acquiesced, but held fast, squinting in suspicion. “What kind of errand?”

Merlos seemed startled at being asked of the errand’s nature, and quickly hid that fact. He turned to face her. “None of your business, you nosey pegasus! Now go on and catch up to the others.”

Stormy’s scowl softened, until finally she sighed and turned to go.

“Uggh, whatever.” Taking heed of Merlos’ word, but refusing to admit that he had made a good point. Stormy scampered after Ges and the wagons, who seemed to be stopping at the street’s end on the corner before a large, four story building with multiple arched entrances. A hinged sign hanging an area that looked a fair deal like a medieval parking lot for horses proclaimed the building to be, “The Bad Drag Inn”.

“Ah, Stormy, there yeh’re.” Knott waved Stormy over to the stables as she crossed the street. “Why don’tcha head inside with Klee Tusk and get yourself a nice warm meal with this.” He handed her a little pouch that jingled. “We’ll be back in an hour once these kegs get to where they need to go.”

“Fure!” Stormy mumbled around the pouch, and nodded her ascent. She spotted the half-orc, already stumbling his way into the inn. “Come’n Klee Tusk, ‘ait up!”

When she entered the tavern, there was a hint of fish, smoke, barley, and perhaps a hundred others things both foul and pleasant in the air. Dank, moist seeming gray wood beams supported the inn all over, while weary travelers seemed to fill the establishment to the gills. Nearly every table was taken already.

Klee Tusk, unabashedly, loomed over a table with one open seat, around which was seated three grimy looking fellows in flashy tunics. “‘Ello, this last seat taken, friends?”

The three men all returned their own exaggerated grins up at the half-orc. “Nope!” they all declared as one, and one quiveringly added, “We were just leaving!”

As the bar patrons began to scarper off, Klee Tusk raised his good arm. “WAIT!” The three men froze. Gingerly, he plucked the tall, cylindrical hat from the last patron’s head, as well as the little glass eye piece he held. “Okie, thanks for the gift. Now you go.”

Stormy looked with a flat expression as the three oomans tore out of the inn, almost tripping.

“Hehe, now Klee Tusk more sophisticate… Hava’ seat, Stormy!” Klee Tusk chuckled, settling into his newly procured seat. “BAR WENCH, I NEED AAAALE!” he then screamed, and thumped his good arm heartily on the table.

“Won’t they just get like, the police or guards or whatever?” After uncovering her ears, Stormy hurried into the dark corner that the table occupied and quickly put her back to it as she sat. The moment she did sit, she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Even with all the raucous sound around her, she felt a million times more relaxed now.

Klee Tusk shrugged. “Then I take guard hats too.” He barked a laugh.

Stormy rolled her eyes. “Riiight, well I’m just glad we’re here finally. I feel like that trip took forev—”

Suddenly, the raucous sound of the ooman inn—that she was sadly starting to get used to—cut off sharply, and was replaced with something, that was for her, unbelievably.

Stormy’s ears pricked to a familiar sound of a violin, singing sweetly. The wood of it sounded so familiar to her ears. Maybe somepony here bought one of grandpa's violins? She had a little doubt about even finding an instrument similar to hers, considering how far backward this world seemed in comparison to her own. Her memories of Canterlot’s neon-lit streets felt centuries ahead of Halia’s rundown, backwards atmosphere.

Still, finding a comparable violin might be possible.

Stormy stood up in her seat, tracking the sound’s location. Her ears twitched, and she turned with sparkles in her eyes towards the stage, where the beautiful sounds were filling the whole establishment more and more. She spied a figure up there sawing away on the instrument as they stepped into a literal limelight.

The mild hiss of the stage’s gas lamps illuminated its patron clearly; within the musician’s hands, was indeed a violin.

“Is that—? It is! Klee Tusk, that’s a violin!”

Klee Tusk stopped chugging his recently procured drink to look up. “Wassat, Stormy?”

“A violin! That’s— It’s an instrument from my world. Do you guys have those here?” As Stormy spoke, she mimed the movements of the sounds she heard in the air out of habit, eyes shut in bliss. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Klee Tusk chuckled, a little taken aback by Stormy’s enthusiasm. “Ohhh. Mebe why they’s playin’ it here?”

“Fair enough.” Stormy chuckled too, staring lovingly up at the sound’s source. Only... she frowned slightly after studying the instrument responsible for said tune more closely—said instrument bore her cutiemark and initials on the bottom.

Stormy gaped, wide eyed. “That’s MY violin!”

Author's Note:

CASTING CALL! Would you like to see your character added in? we have 3 small spots for the upcoming chapter. These are minor character/roles.
Rules:
1). It must be non-MLP race/D&D/pathfinder compatible race that has a short description; we might need to adjust their appearance to fit them in or cut out a page long description for something used as a mention.
2). 1 character per person may be used. Bring some of your gamer friends into this story, maybe they will have some one to work in?
3.) You must be okay with us doing whatever with the character. This is purely for fun's sake.
As always in my attention whore nature; Please leave a comment or some kind of feedback on this chapter, even if its a "Stormy, you're the worst writer ever." I'd be alright with that. (But I'll prolly have self esteem issues for like, I dunno— A minute?)

Comments

[RazDelacroix]

A casting call? I had no idea I had a second birthday!

Oddly enough I use my main D&D character's name for a number of my online accounts...

Half-elf, Rogue (Arcane Trickster), of a Chaotic Good bent. Ancient picture of him here, so ignore the levels in the picture description. Brown hair with black and white spots, brown eyes, and a tendency to flinch and twitch at everything. Loves to travel, and is an absolute beast at the card game Three Dragon Ante. He doesn't even cheat (so long as no one else is cheating)! Knows his way around a rapier and dagger, with a penchant for mixing tricky magic and alchemy into combat. Deals honestly with honest folk, and lies his rear off when it comes to attempts to pin down his history. Has a ferret for a familiar by the name of Chek'um, who operates as Raz's partner in adventure.

Raz's bouts of luck are of the 'get into trouble and somehow live through it barely' variety.

[Matthewthawes]

ive been waiting good work

[R3D4K73D]

The Mad Mage Redflaur

A scholar of a man learned in magicks fire, rune, symbol, sigil, and word. He is armed with an everlasting candle and a Tome of Infinite Pages enchanted with an Indexing charm as he travels the worlds both known and unknown for knowledge.

Throughout his quest for knowledge, he has become less concerned with how people view him, often times displaying eccentric habits and talking to himself as he works through whatever his train of thought wanders off to.

Prone to small bouts of pyromania and near Obsessive Hyperfocus when dealing with a conundrum, which often puts his safety at risk. . . if only he wasn't so blasé about many dangers around him.

[Crescent Glaive]

Ooh! A casting call? I think i have a dwarf that would work!
I'll just modify it a little to make it a tiny bit more suited for this world i think.... the original version isn't going to work here since some details don't exist in your world from what i can gather...
Name: Ragtharn Ironhammer
Nickname: Ragnar
Age: 197 if your dwarves live for centuries, otherwise 46
Job description: Warrior adventurer/ freelance companion to a paladin order once upon a time
Knowledge: Has a little knowledge of potion making he picked up from the paladin order and can make minor potions for healing and for reducing pain but he doesn't know all the herbs that work, only what the order teached him. Is a good smith and can repair his own armor, weapons and tools. Is a good warrior.
Alignment: Good, but isn't above doing shadier things if needed.
Personality: Feels the need to protect civilians which sometimes can get him into trouble more cowardly people would avoid and leave the civs to their fate. Doesn't talk much but will talk plenty to those he travels with when asked and talks more to his friends. Likes to befriend people and doesn't care about race or how one looks. Is blunt but is also considerate.
Equipment: Padded leather under a chainmail shirt with a hood and on top of that heavy steel plate armor. Helmet has an attachable visor if needed but is often not used due to it hindering vision to the sides. (unless there is an enchantment that ignores that in your world, which i doubt there is) Has a two handed hammer and as backup an axe and a round shield large enough to cover most of his body. (If it's a thing in your world, the armor is soul bound to him due to a curse. He can take the armor off, but others trying to steal or handle the armor often results in injuries or death in the worst case scenario if someone is too stubborn. But if the armor likes the one handling it, it can worn temporarily by them, but that is rare. As in it's only happened once.
Chosen God/Goddess: a moon goddess if there is one in your world.

________________________________

Now that's a wall of text.... sheesh... making a character sheet takes space

[Merv]

I love stories like this one so it was a pleasant surprise to see an update 👍

[raptordile]

Ah, and updated it is! Good lookin' as per usual.
It is nice to see Stormy panic in such situations but the others unaffected by it.

[raptordile]

Casting Call
Suhp'Dei the red-scaled winged-kobold druid.
Suhp'Dei is about 16 years old (kobolds mature at 6 or so) and has been about a bit and faced a lot of danger. He is very cowardly and paranoid. Suhp'Dei doesn't trust anything, even seemly mundane things like health potions and random chests.
Suhp'Dei worships dragons. Specifically true dragons. He simi-secretly is very prideful of his race despite their weaknesses. Suhp'Dei does have a red dragon leader/god back home but Suhp'Dei knows that The Great Dragon would never try to help or notice him until he becomes strong.
In combat Suhp'Dei is either supporting his team with healing/utility spells or is fighting front-line in the form of some (typically reptilian) great beast.
Speaking of great beasts Suhp'Dei has an animal companion. The companion is Larry the alligator. Larry is very tanky with a great amount of natural armor and a bite the grapple (then deathroll for knocking prone). Larry only mostly listens to Suhp'Dei, he'll save him in combat but likly won't for mundane things like moving things. Larry loves to fight or more specifically kill. His bloodlust often leads to staying in fights that Suhp'Dei really wants to run from. A common team strategy with Suhp'Dei (while wildshaped into an alligator) and Larry is for them both to grab onto a target and deathroll at the same time (likly ripping off limbs).
When together Larry gets Suhp'Dei to be more agressive and confident while Suhp'Dei helps to curve Larry's bloodlust when not in combat.
Suhp'Dei named Larry

[PostPony]

Only issue is misspelled or poorly autocorrected words.

[NoisyPegasus]

8547967
I strive to do better. Sometimes things slip through my read over, Merlos' readover, and the madverse read over...

Feel free to PM the erroneous word and its neighboring word so I can "find" and fix it.

When putting the story together, we use Google drive since it has many features to flag any problematic grammar and misspelled words.

[StormDancer]

I'm seriously happy that this got an update. It's been sitting on my Nook, chilling, and getting a reread ever few months, but I just kept coming back to a bunch of them floating down the river and then I'd have to make up the rest.
Yay for words! Yay for bar fights! Yay for violin recover specialists through bar-fight mediums!
Nicely done.

[NoisyPegasus]

8587871
We wrote and gutted this chapter a lot. I originally wanted to do a lot of world building, but it would have been all over the place and sloppy, and we don't want bad story telling to be a thing here. We've done our best to do a delicate balancing act with two OC self inserts into this world to not let them go Mary sue and to only work with what helps tell a better story.

It brings tears to my eyes knowing that to some one it's worth rereading.

[StormDancer]

8588446
Hey, look at it this way: If you're taking the time to make it a fun read for yourself, pining over the nuances and minutiae of character interactions, plot, and the world itself, the story will be all the better for it.

Personally, when I find a story I enjoy enough, I keep a running set of copies (in case it ever disappears), and keep working on killing typos and mistakes. Then, when the story is finally complete, I do a final read through, fix anything I missed, and print the little beast. Then it's the slow and painful process of hand binding... but in the end, I come up with a little hardbound gem that can sit on my bookcase with the others.

There are only a few.

And this is one I know I'll be adding once it's done.

Thank you, again, for all the work you put into it.

[Ledgion]

I chuckled a bit at all the world references in this chapter. No Ravenloft, but that's okay.

As for casting call, I don't really have anything to add. I like to play types of characters, but not any that have really had much in the way of interesting backstory. Still, seeing Stormy run into a Tengu Rogue would be funny.

[Blaze Song]

“Dodge!” somebody shouted.

“Ah!” After a brief flashback to summer camp and camp counselor Piping Piccolo’s dodgeball tournaments, Stormy turned around in that instant as commanded.

[MerlosTheMad]

8590180
oooh That's intense. I salute your dedication to your personal enjoyment of things. If only everyone took their own enjoyment of something so seriously.

[SunflowerSwirl]

I really like how you wrote this. We get magic, at least one pony, a wizard, a new world, and all of the other characters residing in it! Plus you don't have to worry that much about the canon characters.

[Venerable Ro]

That was a good fight.

[N4rwh41]

Among the more interesting of the lot was a fishmonger offering, “Absolutely ill-tempered sea bass, with minimal mutations!”; one ooman selling fine silks, exotically patterned from allegedly Forgotten Realms; a merchant selling Golarion brand accordions; some long eared oomans, like Jethro but cleaner, selling “Ebberonian Skub” and Faerunian marbles; an exotic pet saleswoman hocking gryphon eggs from Azeroth; and lastly a blacksmith from Talislanta offering quality cutlery for chefs.

This paragraph makes me happy.

[MerlosTheMad]

9776198
Aye, there's something to be said for some fun references now and then. ^^