Imbalanced: Legacy of Light

by Nameless Narrator

5: Through swords and tentacles

“Ugh...” Harriet moaned, frustration taking hold of her. She’d been carefully trotting through this alley of trees rimming the road for several hours, and she hadn’t seen the group of ponies at all. The only fact-related reason she hadn’t given up yet was that she was still following what could have been a set of tire tracks she could barely see in the moonlight.

Whatever the ponies were, they were moving fast.

However, they had to set up camp for the night at some point, didn’t they?

Slowing down just a little for the sake of being quiet and hearing better, she kept trotting. Stamina wasn’t Harriet’s problem at all, and she was thankful for it.

Suddenly, she saw a flicker of light in the distance illuminating a small camp by some large forest. Harriet had never been this far west from Windy, so she had no clue what it was called, if it even was a large enough mass to deserve a name.

When she got closer, she started to recognize silhouettes darting around the campfire, as well as a wagon standing by the wayside. There were far too many shadows around to be the group Harriet was looking for, but it never hurt to be careful. After she got close enough to hear the clanking of metal, she dared only sneak between the trees and bushes of the alley, because the unidentified sounds of metal hitting metal turned into a real fight.

A fight which one side was losing hard.

From the mess of griffons in motion, Harriet wasn’t sure who had attacked whom, so she snuck over behind the nearest griffon only watching the fight. Perhaps she could draw attention away from whoever the defenders were? She grabbed a thick tree branch, rose to her full height, and bared her teeth.

“Hey, what the hay is going on here?” she raised her voice. In the same second she realized something crucial, unfortunately it was one second too late.

I hope they don’t have guns, I hope they don’t have guns SO MUCH!

“Hey, we missed some fat chick!” the surprised griffon turned his head.

The branch about as thick as the griffon’s foreleg snapped. Harriet’s world had turned upside down today, and the cocktail of pain, depression, indignity, and most of all burning rage finally boiled over.

“FAAAAAAAAAATTTRAAAAAAAAWRGH!” her draconic roar made everyone stop. Unfortunately for the griffon who had pointed Harriet out, he didn’t restart quickly enough. As Harriet suddenly pounced, clearing the area between them in one leap, he could only raise his forelegs before the ripped off branch impacted against his temple, and knocked him out cold.

Two griffon in the center of the small crowd used the moment of surprise to break through now clearly defined attackers around them and now stood back to back. The bandits recovered far slower, and lost a member immediately to a quick stab of one of the defenders. Sadly, the situation was still two against ten- nine after Harriet’s intervention, and the attackers were now raising their weapons again.

Thankfully, when the two defenders didn’t have to watch their backs, they quickly got rid of three nearest bandits, and didn’t show signs of stopping.

A bandit threatening Harriet stood up on his hind legs, his sword in defensive position. He was expecting a swing, and all he got was a branch stab in the gut sending him on the ground. Harriet followed it up with immediately getting atop him and stomping on his head. Dragon claws weren’t made for it like hooves, but Harriet's weight and strength worked like a charm, and the griffon didn’t move again. A swift check revealed he was still breathing, though.

Suddenly, Harriet’s foreleg moved backwards on its own. She whimpered, barely noticing what had transpired. A griffon still pointing his pistol at her reached to his belt for something. At that moment, Harriet’s rage chose to disappear and finally let the reality that the mare had just been shot sink in. She fell flat on her plot, watching the deep scar crossing her scales in disbelief.

I almost died… a bit up and to the left and it would have gone through my chest...

She whimpered again. The griffon reloaded and his trigger talon moved.

The following gunshot Harriet heard wasn’t from him, though. As the griffon keeled over, she realized the two defenders had already managed to drive the attackers away, leaving only the dead or unconscious ones strewn around.

One of the two remaining griffons wearing identical padded suits walked over to her, reaching out with his foreleg. Harriet dropped on the ground and covered her head.

“Please don’t shoot me!” she pleaded.

“I ain’t gonna shoot ya, lady. Ya saved our hides! Gettup so that I can see yer face,” when Harriet looked up, ears drooped, he blinked, “Those ain’t makeup or boots, lady, right? I’ve seen a lotta critters in my life, but nothin’ like ya. Anyway, stop grovelin’. As I said, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Name’s Horst, and my friend’s Jester. This here is Marin’s caravan,” he looked behind him, and called out, “Hey, Marin, get yer ass over here! They’ve ran off already.”

As Harriet stood back up, another griffon peeked from the wagon’s rear exist, and his face brightened up. He looked faintly familiar.

“Harriet?” Marin, a sand-coloured griffon from head to paws, trotted over, “What are you doing here? Horst, this is Harriet from Windy tavern. I’m Marin, I bring supplies every week from Wilbur’s Pass. We haven’t talked, but you’ve waited on me a lot.”

Of course, the travelling merchant, as Harriet thought about him. That’s why he was familiar, he even had his own room at the inn. She had intended to buy the gift for mom from him…

“Oh yeah,” the armored griffon bodyguard scratched his head, “Ya’r the tavern girl, right? Sorry for slappin’ yer butt yesterday, I couldn’t help myself when saw a thing of beauty like that. Or thing of booty, maybe?”

“N-No p-p-problem,” Harriet giggled nervously, adrenaline gradually leaving her body.

“Thanks for the help. They got us by surprise. Poor Terry bought it,” he nods to the only corpse in the same armor as Horst and Jester, “But hey, sweet loot is sweet loot.”

“What happened?” Harriet shuffled towards Marin when Horst pulled out a dagger, and started patting down the griffon she’d knocked out.

Marin pulled her away from the mercenaries searching the dead for anything valuable or useful, and the two sat down by the campfire. He produced a small flat bottle of something which smelled incredibly alcoholic and faintly of plums, and gave it to her.

“Take a swig. It’ll help you calm down.”

Harriet nodded, took a quick sip, and started coughing like crazy as the liquid burned her throat. Part dragon or not, that damn thing was a river of flame inside her neck. It helped, though, burning away her worries for a moment, and replacing them with excruciating pain.

“Oh Emperor...” she wheezed when she could talk again. Marin patted her back, “This is how I imagine breathing fire feels.”

“Heheh,” Marin took a swig as well, “So, back to my question - what are you doing here?”

“I...” she looked into the fire, “Have you met some ponies with a cart on the road since you left?”

“Oh yes, some two hours ago. Five guys going as if their asses were on fire. Did they forget something at the inn or...?”

“Something like that,” Harriet nodded, thinking. They were going faster than her despite their luggage, “Marin, have you got any idea where they might be going?”

“This road leads only to Wilbur’s Pass. There’s a train station in there, so if you want to catch up with them so much, you’ll have to do it before Wilbur’s.”

“Then I really should be going-” she tried to stand up, but Marin’s foreleg around her shoulders stopped her.

“Don’t. The bandits who attacked us were one of the larger groups, but I can’t in good conscience let you go all the way to Wilbur’s Pass alone. You should travel with us.”

“But that way I won’t catch up with those ponies!”

Marin thought for a while, then snapped his talons.

“We’re a bit tight on food supplies since the assholes stole some and ruined what we brought up for tonight,” he raised his voice, “Guys! Did they have any food?”

“No,” answered Jester, “Looks like they didn’t take anything for the trip. We could raid their hideout if they were scared of our scaly friend enough to leave tracks.”

“How about we take the old route?”

The two guards froze, then exchanged looks.

“Thirty percent increase,” they said at once.

“You can keep everything from the dead, I’ll even throw a box to move it for free. Plus, this way we’ll shave off a whole day so that we’re not hungry,” Marin offered a bargain. Whether good or bad, Harriet had no clue. However, getting a day ahead would almost certainly bring her to Wilbur’s Pass early enough to keep following her mom’s murderers.

“Fifteen percent increase on top of that anyway.”

“Deal,” he leaned to Harriet’s ear, “Heheh, this way I can charge a lot more for ‘fresher’ goods from Windy.”

A bag landed in front of Harriet who opened it. There was a triangular leather hat inside it, a sword and a knife, a pair of boots, only one because none would fit over claws on Harriet’s forelegs, some gold coins, and a leather and chain vest. Considering Harriet was around her barrel about as big as a male griffon, it looked like it would fit rather well.

“Yer share for savin’ our asses, miss,” said Horst, “I’d part with more, but I’m taking ma danger bonus from the loot, since Marin wants to take the ol' route.”

“What danger?” asked Harriet, taking a practice swing with the sword and almost cutting her other foreleg, “Other than me to myself...”

Horst leaned close to her face, his beak cracking open in a horrifying smile.

“Tentacles, and a lot of teeth, ma girl - Corrupted.”

***

“So, what are those Corrupted?” asked Harriet.

It was early afternoon the next day, and Harriet was earning her fair share by pulling the wagon along with Jester while Horst was sleeping inside after his night watch. Marin was sitting on the rolling wagon’s front seat, watching the road ahead, the inky black forest in the distance, but mostly Harriet’s brown coat clinging to her behind. He didn’t mean anything dirty by it, it was just the best way to pass time…

...and something to remember later. Maybe he could snap a picture or record a short video. The motion of those glorious globes of powerful muscle and the right amount of fat was almost hypnotic.

Harriet’s question snapped him back to reality.

“A problem,” Marin sighed, “Five or so years ago, the first Corrupted territories appeared in the Empire following the Redtalon uprising. Some say that the Redtalons used bombs able to turn other species into Corrupted, and set them off in several places as an example to those who tried to resist them. The areas became territories like those in Equestria, and started spreading. Even after the holy Emperor Cassius and his brother Nicolai crushed the uprising and imprisoned the Redtalon leader Veronica, they haven’t been able to stop the spread. The road we’ve been using until last spring is now on the edge of one territory.”

“How many of these… Corrupted are a problem to us?”

“Any,” Jester said, scowling, “Thankfully, this territory is a wild one, so the packs spend most of time deeper. Edges are always for the castaways. I doubt we’ll find more than a duo of Hunters. Unfortunately, even that can be enough if we're not supremely careful, or if we simply get unlucky.”

“I saw you fight. You dealt with the bandits really fast,” Harriet tried to wrap her head around the idea that one or two of anything could stop all of them this easily. Horst and Jester were well-armed, now that they weren’t surprised by an ambush. Guns, swords, knives, rifles, armors, everything.

“Corrupted aren’t bandits,” said Jester simply, “They regenerate faster than you can blink, are quicker than griffons, and about as agile. Some are basically immune to normal weapons thanks to how tough their skin is. As far as I know, they don’t like certain kinds of acid and fire, very loud noises due to their keen senses, and they straight up can’t handle heights. They just… collapse or melt.”

“Can you two grab one and fly it up then?”

“As a last resort, maybe. I mean, if it’s a choice between losing a limb and straight up death. These armors are good against melee weapons and small firearms, but a Corrupted would rip a leg off right with it. They often look like hypersexualized versions of other species made of slick, tough, black goo, they can grow tentacles from their backs, have prehensile tongues, but they are the closest to a fungus. Kinda hard to grab unnoticed and, most importantly, unanswered.”

“Can we confuse them somehow? I’ve seen a pack of sand wolves attack a residence on the edge of Windy, and they tossed pieces of meat around to make them fight each other for it.”

“The wild ones? Yeah, they aren’t too smart, especially Hunters. You run, they chase. You don’t run, they either eat you or violate enough that your mind breaks and you turn into one of them. Contact with them is… infectious.”

“Eww...” Harriet shivered at the thought of herself covered in weird black moss, “So I can’t even punch one?”

Jester started laughing, and it took a while before he stopped.

“Ooooh boy, punch a Corrupted griffon, heh. Miss Harriet, if you punched one with your bare forelegs, tough scales or not, getting infected would be the last of your problems. Try to stay away, because if they get to breed you once, let's say after you trip or slip, your mind’s gone. I recall a colleague of mine, an earthpony mare, damn good riot shield she was, who got a tentacle shoved into her mouth mid-fight, then swallowed some squirting goo, and next moment she was tearing off her armor and running into a group of them like possessed. That saved our own asses, because they then had their way with her until she transformed into one of them instead of chasing us.”

“So don’t fight, got it. You mentioned there were wild ones, and…?”

“There are smart ones too, but those are mostly in Equestria. The closest things you can find around the Empire are the Separated. They look like Corrupted ponies, but have these white veins on their legs. They travel a lot for some reason, and most can speak a little, or at least understand. I heard it's because they were sent outside their home territory to learn about the world, but who knows what the truth is? Those guys won’t attack you unless you attack them, and often even help those they meet. I’ve met two since the traffic between Equestria and the Empire restarted, and they just do their thing. They like listening to stories a lot, actually.”

As Jester recounted the few details he knew, the group reached the dark forest. Trees were different, completely black, and… wet. Same went for the grass, and even the dirt of the road felt… softer, swampy. It was unlike anything Harriet had seen before. Thankfully, air stood still, and the only sound was the whispering grass under the wagon’s tires.

“Keep your eyes peeled,” whispered Jester, “and stay quiet. They can move pretty much without noise in that weird grass and moss. If you see something, poke me, or whisper at most. If you’re too loud, it’ll only bring more of them.”

Hours passed without any danger. Eventually, Marin decided to liven things up a little, and asked in a hushed tone.

“Harriet, you’re a dragon pony, right? Like the foal of a pony and a dragon.”

“Mom was a pegasus and dad’s a dragon, yes.”

“Well,” Marin scratched his head, “Uhh, how? I can’t wrap my head around it-”

Harriet grinned. That was actually a rather often posed question by the tavern’s guests curious about her unusual size and occasional scales.

“Mom was very determined, and did these ‘yoga’ exercises. Really loosens the hips.”

It took Marin a moment to realize she was making fun of him. Jester’s snickering was a good enough clue. The exchange raised the group's morale a bit, which lasted them until evening when they decided to make a camp again.

“Excellent job. Thirteen more hours, and we’ll reach Wilbur’s Pass. Jester, you know what to do,” Marin jumped from his seat, and helped Harriet take the harness off, “Harriet, wake Horst up, will you? I’ll light the fire and bring out the food.”

“Won’t fire only draw those Corrupted?”

Horst shrugged, checking the area around the wagon with his beak close to the ground.
“From my experience, they don’t care about darkness. They can see us just fine while we can’t see anything. We have flashlights and lanterns, but I’d like to keep those for emergencies. There’s enough wood around, and although tainted branches don’t burn that well, they will suffice.”

“Okay,” Harriet climbed into the wagon, and poked Horst’s shoulder with her claw, “Hey, Horst?” she whispered.

The griffon’s foreleg moved like lightning, and grabbed hers.

“I’m up. I’m up, booty girl. We campin’ already?”

“Mhm.”

“Alright, I’ll grab ma things, and ya catch some sleep. Jester will be with you in a minute, I bet. Dunno if anyone told ya, but this is the only place to sleep, so ya’ll have to scoot a bit, though I envy Jester having these perfect pillows to himself,” he flicked Harriet’s ear before walking out of the wagon.

Harriet looked around for any pillows, and after finding none, she simply lay down on the carpet where Horst had been sleeping. The only thing she felt before she fell asleep after a day of pulling the wagon was arriving Jester’s back pressed against hers.

***

Harriet’s ear twitched.

Again.

And again.

Her hind leg kicked out, and she drew a deeper breath. Blinking, she gradually woke up.
Everything was pitch black, some kind of soft blanket was covering her, and she felt someone pressed against her back. The lack of hard armor meant it had to be Marin. Carefully, she got on all fours, curious about what woke her up.

Heavy breathing, and quick steps. They grew closer and louder as she shuffled towards the wagon exit. Something was going on just outside.

“Left, left!” she heard a hushed command followed by a quick whispering of grass bending under paws. The voice was Jester’s.

She peeked out of the cloth flaps serving as the wagon’s door, and looked away immediately, blinded by a flash of bright light.

Rubbing her eyes, she took few seconds to get used to the two lanterns dancing around the clearing where they had camped. Horst and Jester, each wearing a glowing helmet, were fighting another larger griffon, this one black all over who would be completely invisible without the lanterns.

Jester jumped backwards to avoid a swipe of unnaturally long talons belonging to the enemy griffon.

“Oof!” he flew backwards anyway after getting smacked by the griffon’s… tongue following the swipe like a whip.

No griffon had tongue this long, and Harriet finally noticed the finer details, mostly the long tail whipping around to zone Horst away, and six tentacles sprouted from the griffon’s back, swaying menacingly. This had to be one of those griffon Corrupted. Thankfully, Horst and Jester seemed to be holding their own.

Why hadn’t they woken her and Marin up? There were two buttons on the wagon’s side which would activate a buzzer inside.

The Corrupted rose on his hind legs, and with a flap of his wings landed on Jester faster than Harriet could take a breath.

“Damn, shitty angle!” she heard Horst curse. He grabbed something from his belt, and threw it at the Corrupted. The creature let out a gurgling hiss, and turned towards him, leaving momentarily forgotten Jester between his hind legs.

“Yea, ya dumb tentacled chicken, daddy Horst’s here and he’s got a molotov fer ya,” he backed off slowly to make the Corrupted step away from Jester who didn’t dare move, "Juuus' a lil' closer."

One step, another-

The Corrupted’s hind paw landed on Jester’s stomach. The Corrupted twitched, as he suddenly remembered there was one more threat. His tail swished through the air, whipping Jester so hard Harriet heard him groan and squirm as he got the wind knocked out of him. The tail came back up and… transformed, long spike growing out of it.

Watching the deadly appendage, Harriet in a moment of clarity realized that while the mercenaries’ armors were built to withstand swords and possibly slow down bullets, it wouldn’t work here against the strength of the Corrupted's blow.

“Hey, you ugly wobbly tentacle thing!” she called out, trying to sound dangerous. Fortunately, her voice was weak and terrified no matter how much she steeled herself, and thus not too loud.

It worked. The Corrupted looked at the new prey, and opened his beak wider than any real griffon could. Three thick tongues darted out of it, flailing menacingly. Horst now needed only a second to line up a good shot, and toss the bottle of liquid fire right into the Corrupted’s face.

The wet explosion enveloped the Corrupted and the mercenary underneath, red and blue fire spreading over grass, fur, and skin alike.

The Corrupted turned back towards Horst, tensing his legs to pounce. In the next moment, a puzzled expression crossed his face before letting out a high-pitched, ear-splitting screech, and bolted forward.

Horst got knocked aside like a bowling pin. The Corrupted, it seemed, wasn’t in any position to attack as he simply kept running and screeching from the top of his lungs.

With the most pressing threat gone, Harriet rushed towards Jester rolling in the flames, trying to get out.

“Wait, be careful, girl!” Horst hissed when Harriet grabbed the burning griffon as she ran through the conflagration, circled around with Jester on her back, and dropped him off next to Horst who didn’t wait for anything, pulled a can of something out of a backpack lying in the grass nearby, and sprayed Jester gritting his beak trying not to scream with some white mist which doused the flames immediately.

Jester, grunting in pain, forced himself not to move as chill spread through his body, and Horst began to peel off the padded suit of body armor off of him.

“When I tell ya, ya spray him,” ordered Horst, shoving the can into Harriet’s claws.

Over the next minutes, Horst managed to rescue Jester from his armor which randomly caught fire when faced with open air, always doused by Harriet. In the end, Horst wiped his forehead.

“Better than it looks...” he let out a relieved sigh, “Woulda been a shame to lose two guys on one trip. Good job, booty girl, both distracting the Hunter and getting Jester out of the fire,” he looked at the still burning spot, and then at slightly smoldering Harriet, “Ya okay? Ya normally look hot, but not this hot.”

Harriet did feel a little warm, but that was about it. Heat or cold wasn’t really something which bothered her. That’s why she was always able to work outside all way no matter what. Probably a dragon thing.

“How is he?” Harriet whispered.

“He’ll be alright. If we get outta here, that is,” Horst patted a healthy spot on Jester’s chest, “Stay here wit’ him, I’ll wake Marin up. We gotta haul ass,” he rushed inside the wagon.

Harriet didn’t know what to do, so she just sat down next to Jester, found a non-burned spot on him, and stroked it.

“Thanks,” Jester gave Harriet a crooked smile, “Now stop playing nurse, grab everything you can see, and bring it into the wagon. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not infected or anything? I-”

“I had my head as close to the damn Hunter’s balls as is possible, and I’m still fine. Don’t worry, I’m not turning into any shroom soon. Now move your glorious ass, the screeching must have woken up half of the territory. Thankfully, they’ll be going after him, not us… for a while.”

“What did you do to it? I thought it got scared by the fire,” Harriet started picking up everything she could find. Two backpacks, some bottles, guns which she carried with utmost care since she’d never held one before, and these didn’t look like toys.

“When it turned its ass to me, I shoved a cracked glass vial filled with acid in there. I bet my wings it had no idea why it must have hurt more and more as it kept running.”

Harriet winced, automatically clamping her hind legs together in phantom pain.

“Is it… dead somewhere?” she asked. Any mortal creature would probably be.

“Nah,” Horst trotted over, smacking Harriet’s plot, “It’ll be alright at worst in few days. Go get in your harness, we’re leaving. Good thinking with the bags,” he tossed the things Harriet had gathered into the wagon. As the dragonpony strapped herself in, Horst and Marin loaded Jester on a stretcher and brought him inside. When Horst returned, he put a helmet similar to his own on her head, and strapped himself into the second harness.

“Terry’s helmet,” he nodded forward when Marin took his place on the front seat behind them, “I had a chat with Jester inside, and we have a present for ya if we get out of here in one piece. Ya turn that thing on with the button on the right side.”

Marin flipped a switch on the wagon, and a large light above the front seat bathed the area in white glow.

“I hate going through the night, but someone’s about to be curious soon enough,” said Horst, “Now let’s pull. It would be a shame if that booty got lost in some swampy forest forever.”

Every cracking branch, every rock scratching against the wagon’s tires, and every breath made the trio look around. Adrenaline couldn’t last forever, though, and few hours later Harriet found herself losing sense of what was happening. She just kept pushing, feeling as if she dozed off here and there, her strength and endurance being tested to their limits during the past two days.

She barely registered morning light when it eventually broke through the dark canopy. The tainted forest still felt menacing, but the thinning growth gave her hope that she might get to see civilization again.

Less than an hour later, they left the Corrupted territory behind them, and when the new day grew bright and warm, Harriet heard Marin’s loud sigh of relief. On the plains in the distance, she could faintly see what looked like a long wall with occasional turrets behind it.

A city?

“Wilbur’s Pass,” Marin relaxed in his seat, “We made it.”

Comments

[Two_Madmans]

through swords and tentacles

I almost see what you did here.

“FAAAAAAAAAATTTRAAAAAAAAWRGH!” her draconic roar made everyone stop. Unfortunately for the griffon who had pointed Harriet out, he didn’t restart quickly enough.

I don't want to meet this girl...
Or I want... I can't tell.

and they straight up can’t handle heights. They just… collapse or melt.”

I thought only Corruptors had that much problems with heights, others takes it a bit easier.

[ProjectRabbid]

clueless little precious girl