Kestrel never really much liked the taste of moonshine—it was basically unfinished whiskey that put a mare on her back from how strong it was—but she had to learn to like it quick, or at least pretend to, when Pinpoint set a glass jar down in front of her, half-full with clear liquid. “Some of our best from the current batch,” the unicorn proclaimed, and she sat down across from the wooden table Kestrel and Tumbleweed had been led to. “Trust me, we always sample our stock for the best. Guess you could call it a perk of the job.”
“If we didn’t keep you on watch, we wouldn’t have none left,” a gray stallion remarked from her side. Pinpoint had introduced him as Tin Cup, and from what Kestrel had seen of the moonshiners, he seemed like the oldest one and their little group’s de facto leader. At the very least, he had volunteered himself to join Pinpoint in accommodating potential customers, while the other three shiners regarded them with suspicion, curiosity, or just plain indifference, respectively.
“I sneak my shots where I can,” Pin shot back. She grabbed a glass of her own and raised it to her lips, savoring a strong sip, prompting the three other ponies to do the same. Kestrel suppressed her shiver of revulsion as the moonshine hit her tongue and swallowed it quickly to get it out of her mouth as soon as she could, and when she set her glass down, she forced herself to smile and nod approvingly.
“Strong stuff,” she managed, stifling a cough as the burn crawled down her throat and into her gut.
“I see you weren’t exaggeratin’ ‘bout the quality of your shine,” Tumbleweed said, and the smile on his muzzle looked so natural that Kestrel wasn’t sure if he enjoyed the taste or not—not that she could usually tell when Tumbleweed was acting and cozying up to somepony unless she knew about it beforehoof. “Best shine I’ve had in a while down here.”
“You came to the right place for good shine,” Tin Cup said. “The bayou’s a perfect place to brew it up. Plenty of real estate if you know where to look, and it’s well away from the tax mare and the officers of the law down in the city.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” Tumbleweed said. “Raptor and I ain’t exactly friends of the fine ponies in uniform ourselves.”
“Most who come out to the bayou ain’t,” Pinpoint said with a curt nod. “So what’s your story?”
“Our story? Well, I suppose it’s only fair, since you were so forthcomin’ ‘bout your own tale.” Tumbleweed took another sip of his moonshine (prompting Kestrel to do the same) and leaned back in his chair. “We’re thieves, robbers, scoundrels, to use a few of the names the fine fillies and gentlecolts of the law refer to us by. Robbin’ from ponies who need robbin’ done to ‘em is one of our many specialities. We’ve been up and down Equestria, earnin’ our marks. New Oatleans is just the next stop in a long list of scores all over the country.”
“Must be pretty skilled to be cross-country thieves,” Tin Cup noted, his eyes studying the two ponies across from him with careful scrutiny.
“Or pretty lucky,” Pinpoint countered with a dismissive scoff. “Beat a beehive with a stick enough times and pretty soon you’re gonna get stung. Better to be a beekeeper makin’ your honey under the queen bee’s nose than to smash open wild hives and hope for the best.”
“That may be true for some, but there’s nothin’ quite like nature’s ample bounty when it comes to taste.” Tumbleweed flashed a disarming smile at Pinpoint, who rolled her eyes at the attempt to turn her analogy back on her. “Point being, we’re in town looking to get our next fixin’. And, perhaps, Raptor and I thought it best to consult with some of the locals who might enjoy seein’ some ponies with too much gold in their pockets lose a bit of it.”
“That so?” Tin Cup rolled his jar between his hooves and thought for a moment. “Seems like ponies would have to be pretty foolish to give away information like that for free.”
“I weren’t expectin’ it to be free; we’ll pay you for your shine, after all.” Tumbleweed grinned as he said that, and he raised the jar in his magic in a jesting toast. “I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement benefitin’ both parties.”
“How much you offerin’?” Pinpoint asked, leaning in.
“Depends on what you know,” Tumbleweed countered. “We’re in the business of makin’ plenty of bits in one go. Not, hundreds, and not thousands. We’re thinkin’ big, here.”
“Big, eh?” Tin Cup nodded. “I know a few ponies who know big. Plenty of surprising customers come around these parts for a few drinks under the table. You hear a couple of interesting things once a couple of businessponies are loosened up with some of the still’s finest.”
“Oh really?” Tumbleweed asked. “Like what?”
That was met with a small smile from Tin Cup. “You’re moving a little too fast, Mister Dustbowl,” the shiners’ leader said. “I’ve heard what you want. Now, here’s what I want. I’ll tell you everything I want to know if you help my business out.”
“I’m not sure we’d make greet street marketers for you,” Tumbleweed said, and Kestrel nodded. “Rather not be showin’ our faces ‘round town ‘til we’re ready to make our money.”
“And moonshining is the kind of business that benefits more from word of mouth than fliers and criers,” Tin Cup said. “I take it, judging by your ambitions, that your little group is more than just the two of you. And I also take it, given your apparent reputation, that you know how to look after yourselves, in a fight or otherwise.” Then he looked at Pinpoint. “And lastly, I know that Pin probably mentioned our competition in our sales pitch. So, given all that together, I think you should have an idea of where this is going.”
Tumbleweed only nodded. “You want us to trash your competition, that it?”
“Precisely,” Tin Cup said. “Ruin their business, and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Getting their customers would be quite profitable for us; a fair trade for the bits you want for yourselves, I believe.”
“We ain’t gonna throw ourselves headlong into a death trap,” Kestrel said, feeling the need to speak up. “We need to know what we’d be up against. How many of ‘em are there? Where are they at? And whose tail are we gonna be steppin’ on when all’s said and done?”
Tumbleweed gave Kestrel a quick sideways glance, likely displeased that she’d butted into the negotiations, but Pinpoint took the reins from Tin Cup and elaborated for her anyway. “Probably ‘round twenty of ‘em, by my best guess. I’d expect ‘em all to have guns; you’d be stupid to be out in the bayou without ‘em, and not just to deal with trespassers. Gators love ponymeat, and they can be quiet little lizards if they wanna be.”
“Their led by a fellow named Murky Glass,” Tin Cup said. “Supposedly he’s the disgraced cousin of New Oatleans’ mayor, but if that’s true, the mayor hasn’t said anything about it one way or the other. Still, it’s a story Glass likes to tell, and there might be some nugget of truth to it, since his operation isn’t exactly a secret to the ponies of New Oatleans. Given the city’s stance on moonshiners, you would expect that to garner unwanted attention, yet he’s never suffered any blowback from it. It makes one wonder why.” Tin Cup shook his head. “At any rate, they’ve made use of an old rotting fort that’s been all-but swallowed up by the bayou. It was decades old by the time the war with the griffons started, and thank Celestia that Equestria never had to use it to keep them out of the city. I doubt it would’ve done much had the griffons chosen to invade here instead of Tailahassee.”
“A fort, even a ruined one, could be a pain in the flank to a small band of ponies,” Tumbleweed acknowledged. Then he looked at Kestrel. “You’ve got a better hoof on the fightin’ condition of our little posse than I do, Raptor. Thoughts?”
1. Accept Tin Cup’s offer. If we muster everything we have, there’s a chance we might be able to put Murky Glass’ little operation out of commission before they even know what’s happnin’. If Tin Cup’s got information that could get us a nice payday that’s better than our other options, it’s worth the risk.
2. Decline Tin Cup’s offer. The last thing we need to do is be makin’ more enemies. It doesn’t leave us with a lot of options when it comes to makin’ our move in the city, but it also means we don’t have to risk our lives twice instead of once.
1. Take it slow and scout them out. 20 bayou hicks with guns can’t be better shots than the Pinks
Oop. There it is. The call for "handling" the competition.
And there's my concern addressed. Sort of. Just one group, it seems, but twenty armed vs our ragtag injured group is nothing to sneeze at.
I guess it really depends on if and how much help but I'm not trusting the dice on this one. 2.
10898109
Never underestimate the hicks.
1. Even if there's no payoff from the moonshiners, there's a bunch of scrubs you can off and rob without anyone complaining much.
That's basically the only reason adventurers accept quests.
1. IF we can catch this rival group when even some of them are drunk/asleep could change everything
2
While they may not make quite as much cash in the big robbery (or whatever we’re doing) in New Oatleans without the moonshiners knowledge, the risk of fighting a group while massively outnumbered, especially attacking into a fort, is just too great.
Leave on good terms and move on
1.
Option two ( 2 ). As much as the information would be welcome, killing a fort full'a ( potentially ) well armed moonshiners is a bad risk for ( once again, potentially ) very little.
It's a huge gamble, but the majority of our surviving members have good gunskill, and we could always bring along Gizmo and use it as a decoy. Sod it, all in, Option 1.
20 or so armed ponies? Possibly wasted by their own brew or too relaxed by their not so secret operation to act quickly? Living in a rotting fort that may or may not have weak spots in it? From where I'm sitting, option 1 doesn't sound too bad. Provided we do this smart and carefully. Wildcards are always hidden in places you never expect...
I was half expecting a dice roll about whether or not Kestrel or Tumbleweed would go blind from the moonshine.
1. It's risky and possibly a bad idea, but I'm pretty sure the gang is in a bad enough state that it's an option they need to explore. Take risks now, because the walls are closing in.
Yeah, I gotta go with 1 here. It just has too much potential to pass up in my mind.
Let's recon it first, then decide whether to tackle this or not.
2. Any other time, I'd take it. But with our numbers curbed, we can't afford to take many chances, especially going up against 20 of them.
1 but scout it out first. No sense in going in unprepared without knowing what the gang is up against. Besides, the moonshiners. Tumbleweed & Kestrel met might not have been entirely truthful.
1, its a gamble but a worth it one if it pans out
1: YOLO