The western shoreline was in sight for the ship of mercenaries, lit up by the shining moon over the ocean. With information tortured of the ship’s recent passengers, Mawr was finally beginning to understand the abundance of the eye shaped sigils as well as the true danger her mission objective had found himself in. She stood at the bow of the ship, as if posing for a picture that would never be drawn. Though she looked deep in thought, her mind was clear as she watched the ever-approaching shore creep closer and closer. The peace in her mind became quickly discordant as her least favourite crewmate suddenly called out to her.

“[Are you sure we don’t need these anymore?]” Kufn called. He was to the starboard side of the ship, preparing to throw the now lifeless bodies of their captives from the side of a boat. “[I know a guy not too far from here who’ll give a pretty penny for bodies, off in Marjoram.]”

Mawr turned to him slowly, an eyebrow raised and a disgusted look on her face.

“[Not a fetishist, believe it or not,]” Kufn continued, “[not a cannibal either. My older body-guy, Munsh, was a different story, on both accounts, but Neem’s a good guy. More importantly, pays better too.]”

Mawr blinked.

“[He’s usually pretty awkward to deal with, most postal services aren’t the fondest of cadavers, but he pays top papers for young healthy bodies.]” He nodded to himself. “[I mean, I don’t know why he wants them, and I suppose he’s never actually confirmed he’s not, ah, y’know, but he- well, he pays well.]”

Mawr slowly turned back to face the shore again, trying to bleach her brain from the colourful imagery.

“[That a no?]” Kufn asked. “[If we get these guys on ice, they’ll be fresh enough for a good while.]” He received no answer. “[Can I at least take their legs? Not worth a whole lot, but better than being wasteful.]” There was a short silence filled only by sounds of the ocean. “[I’m gonna take their legs.]”

“[For sake of stars!]” Mawr whipped around to him at just the wrong moment. Had it not been masked by chitin, Mawr’s face would be as green as Cloud’s.

“[There we go…]” Kufn wiped Riptide off on a spare torso before sheathing it. “[Oh wait, I didn’t bring any saddle bags, did I?]” He laughed heartily to himself. “[No way to take them anyway!]” Finally, the bodies were dumped over the side of the boat. “[That’s that, then!]” He laughed once again before walking back towards the cabin. “[I’m going to grab some lunch before we hit land-]” He paused as he heard retching from behind him. “[...And from the sound of it, I’d recommend you do the same!]”

Mawr’s eyes shot him daggers, her body doubled over at the edge of the ship. I hate that damn swordsman…!

After walking back to Oregano, Cloud had first taken the injured boy to the police station. He had hoped that Bravura had magically returned from his trip during his misadventure in the forest, but to no avail. Cloud considered staying at the station to wait, but the drastically decreasing blood in his body presented a reasonable argument against the idea.

“I’m so light headed, but I’m not even doing the magic,” Cloud slurred, giggling to himself. He stood motionless for a while, a dumb smile across his glazed face as blood continued to pour from his leg. Healing hut... “The healer one is good.” Cloud blinked twice to agree with himself.

Cloud stumbled towards the door, tripping over himself but managing to stay on his hooves. The small part of his brain that could think clearly was focused on maintaining the Support Circle carrying the child, leaving only his idiocy to guide him to safety. Unfortunately for Cloud, his idiocy had no sense of direction - especially down thirty percent of his body’s blood total. Through the dark streets he stumbled, leaving a trail of red in his wake, until he found himself too dizzy to see straight. This is… issue… Sensing the issue becoming dire, Cloud dismissed his Support Circle. The child, still unconscious slumped onto the floor. Okay, brain, maximum effort time, how in the hell do I not die here? Alright… Okay… No idea where that healing place was… Uh… His legs gave out beneath him, and he slumped onto the floor. Voice amplify spell and shout? No, no energy left to shout, wouldn’t be speaking a language anyone here knows… His vision began to blur and a numbness began to spread through him. This is a pretty hopeless situation I’ve found myself in. So much for plan B... Plan B…? Wait… Vague memories flashed before his eyes. The citizens of Ponyville in panic; his ‘plan B’ for Dragon taming having failed horribly. It was immediately afterwards he had heard it…

Cloud focused the last coherent part of his mind. Bravura is too far, but there’s someone else I know I can target… Cloud summoned a Support Circle underneath himself and boosted himself as much as he could. Though his horn would normally be erupting with power, as it was in his current state it was barely any brighter than average. He closed his eyes, sacrificing his sense of sight for the slightest extra amount of focus he could gain. You… With a certain person in mind and his magic as charged as he could make it, Cloud cast a telepathy spell with a message riding on emotion rather than words before blacking out:

Help me.

As he opened his eyes, Cloud quickly recognised the room he was in. A welcome change. He was back inside the medical hut, curled up in the hammock, and once again there was nobody else to be seen.

Cloud rolled out of the hammock and made a puddle with a water conjuration spell. This place needs mirrors… He adjusted so he could see the state of his left hind leg. A thin scar lay across it, curved up at both ends. Cloud sighed. Another one for the collection…

As Cloud spent a moment wondering how long his right legs would remain without scars, Bravura briskly marched into the room. He was wearing thick saddlebags packed tight, and wearing his police helmet. Cloud looked up, more surprised than anything else.

“Bravura…” said Cloud. “What happened to-?”

“The child is safe,” Bravura interrupted.

“There were these two guys and-”

“You defeated them, and saved the child, yes.”

“I made it back to town but-”

“You had lost too much blood, I know; you walked for two miles with a gaping stab wound.”

“I couldn’t find the medical hut so I-”

“Contacted Toestel with magic, I’ve already been informed.”

There was a short silence.

“Okay, at this point I feel like you should be the one explaining,” Cloud grumbled.

“I went to a village named Marjoram to investigate the recent attacks on the nearby towns, as you know,” Bravura began. “I discovered the suspects are no ordinary brigands, but rather members of a…” He trailed off, trying to find the right word. Finally, he sighed. “There’s no other name for them I suppose: The supposed brigands are members of a cult.”

“A… cult?” Cloud frowned. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am indeed, though I’m sure you now understand my hesitation. From what I gathered, the cult began in Saddle Arabia some months ago, formed around a Horse who they seem to think is a god. There are rumors that they’re behind the assassination of a high notoriety figure in Shirith; a member of the Masterless crime family.”

Cloud scratched his chin. That name sounds vaguely familiar…

“Their influence is spread far and wide, though based on rumors it seems the inner circles of the cult are continuously on the move. I lack the information to know their goals, but from what you’ve told me along with recent events, it looks like they’ve begun taking action in Zebrica. I would wager they’re kidnapping children for a slave workforce, else to sell them, either way meaning their current base of operations is relatively nearby. From towns attacked as well as the direction the two you fought were headed, I’ve triangulated their most likely location of their base.” Finally stopping for a breath, Bravura reached into his saddlebags, pulled out a teal potion and tossed it to Cloud, who caught it with magic. “Drink that revitalising potion, we’re leaving in five minutes.”

“Wait, what?” Asked Cloud. “Where? And why?”

“I have their location, I have them dead for rights to kidnapping and attempted murder, I have motive to protect this village.” Bravura turned towards the door. “I’m going now, with or without you, but I’d assumed you were too involved to want to sit this out.”

After a moment of comprehension, Cloud smirked as his brow furrowed. “You’re goddamn right.” He popped the lid of the potion and downed its contents. “Let’s teach those bastards a lesson.”

The mercs had long since reached land, and were deep into the jungle. The two Diamond Dog bandits walked in the lead, clearing away intrusive flora, as the others followed behind. In the very back were the two Gryphon pirates, the least useful on land.

“[Hey, sorceress,]” barked Mawr.

“[My name’s Carry but okay-]”

“[Any specialty with jungle travel as a Zebra?]”

“[Fuck you too, you racist bitch…]”

Before Mawr could retort or be an even bigger racist, the group suddenly found themselves in a very large clearing. In the distance were tents and rising smoke.

“[Stop.]” Mawr's voice was low, yet clear and commanding. “[Fall back, lose visibility.]” All did as she ordered. “[Hold position, I'm scouting ahead.]” With a flash of fire, she became a fruit fly. She flew upwards, higher than reasonable swatting distance, and headed forward into the camp. As she disappeared from their sight, Kufn turned to the two Diamond Dogs, Rock and Roll. The two tensed up, their paws tightening around the hilts of their axes. With an intense look in his eye, Kufn reached into his scarf… and pulled out a deck of cards.

“[You guys’ down for Uno?]”

Mawr stayed high, being careful not to be seen. She perched on the top of a tent, and looked out into the camp before her. What the hell…?

“[Red seven!]” Cheered Kufn. He looked over to Aima and Carry, a cheery smile on his face. “[You two want in?]”

Carry smile and walked over to their little circle… before grabbing Roll by the scalp and tearing his throat out with a knife.

“[What the fuck are you d-?!]” Rock was cut off as Aima buried another knife into his head. Kufn leapt to his hooves, drawing his sword, and the two pirates quickly did the same.

“[State your reason or die, now!]” Kufn demanded. All joy was gone from his face, and all cheeriness gone from his voice. Aima replied by throwing a knife, which Kufn easily deflected. “[So be it! You two,]” he flicked his head towards the pirates, “[you're on the sorceress!]”

Both replied with a simultaneous “[Aye!]”

Kufn dashed towards Aima, deflecting a few more knives along the way, and took a slash with his scimitar. Aima tried to grab the blade, but Kufn adjusted his angle and lopped off three of the behemoth’s fingers. As Aima cried out in pain, Kufn quickly switched the direction of his sword towards the Minotaur’s throat - but was interrupted by a potion smashing against his head. Kufn stumbled; glass pierced his face and the potion itself had splattered across his head. It quickly began eating away at his flesh like an acid. Before he could even scream, a colossal fist crashed down onto his head and he fell. Thinking fast, Kufn grabbed a clump of mud and rubbed it onto the potion. His sword out of his grasp, he grabbed whatever sharp object was nearby, one of Aima’s knives, and sheared off the now viscous acid.

A glance to Carry gave him all Kufn needed to know; Whet and Powder lay dead at her hooves. A shadow clued him in, and he rolled to dodge a stamp from Aima. Another potion bottle shattered nearby and a thick, purple smoke surrounded him. The smoke filled his lungs, and he promptly lost consciousness. Aima grabbed him by the scarf and lifted him into the air. He pulled out a knife with his uninjured hand and prepared to slash Kufn's throat.

“[Wait,]” a voice commanded from the shadows, “[this one may be useful.]”

Aima sheathed his knife, but settled for punching Kufn in the head. Carry gathered the weapons lying on the ground, Riptide among them.

“[Take them into the camp,]” the voice continued, “[I'll deal with the insect myself.]”

Mawr flew up from the tent and back towards the jungle. This place is way too dangerous for a direct assault. I need to find that asshole and get us both the hell away from here. Transforming back into her usual self, she prepared to bark orders at the company, only…

“[Your mercenaries have fallen,]” announced a voice from behind her, “[as you can see.]” Mawr whipped around to the voice. It belonged to a Horse, brown in both body and mane.

“[Who are you?]” Asked Mawr, lighting up her horn. “[And where are your captives?]”

The Horse laughed, his voice haughty yet strong. “[So you're the one chasing Cloud Calculation?]” His voice carried a sophisticated tone, though the way he carried himself was as if he was looking down on her. Mawr's mind, however, was elsewhere. No sign of the swordsman, thug, or sorceress, might've escaped...

“[Ten seconds to answer me, fuckstick, then I'm tearing your heart out and stealing your identity!]” Mawr's teeth clenched. As a Changeling, she could sense the emotional energy of a person like a smell in the air, but she sensed nothing but pride from the Horse before her.

“[You want to know where I keep my captives?]” The Horse laughed; a colder, more dangerous laugh than Kufn’s. “[I'll show you.]” He raised a hoof, pointing its base towards her. “[As for my name…]” A yellow beam of magic blasted from his hoof, crashing into Mawr and burning the flesh beneath her chitin.

Author's Notes:

Another one for the collection…

So, in the picture 'Pony With No Name', Cloud has a scar on his right foreleg. That's super a mistake.