Robber Baron took a sip of wine. He closed his eyes, rolling the liquid around in his mouth, treating his senses to a drink that no other pony in Equestria could even afford to know about.

He turned to face the delegate sitting in his office and offered a calm smile. The deal was ready to be struck. The zebra shifted nervously in his seat, glancing down to the papers on the desk before him. Amongst his own people, no doubt he was the pinnacle of wealth. Here, he was just another rich zebra, in the office of a god.

“Is everything in order then?” the zebra asked.

Baron made a show of going through the papers, as if checking matters over one more time. He allowed his eyes to narrow ever so slightly, and laughed a little inside as he heard the zebra holding his breath.

Finally, he looked up and smiled again, reaching for a pen. “Yes, I believe it is, Mr. Laksmi. I’ll send out a few breakrunners to your fleet. As long as you honor your end of the agreement, I think we will both find great profit in our business.”

The zebra relaxed visibly as pen was put to paper. He rose, offering many bows and thanks, and was escorted out by one of Baron’s everpresent guards. Baron sat back, relishing the feel of negotiating a deal. He hadn’t had the opportunity to forge any new agreements in a long time, but the recent rebel uprising amongst his slaves had… opened up… a few slots for new trade partners. He frowned, briefly disheartened at the thought of the rebels, and leaned forwards. There were still more reports to be reviewed.

He disliked paperwork. It was boring stuff, and it always made him want to go and do something. To go supervise workers, chat up mercantile giants, strike deals, and plan expansion stratagems. But an uprising was just one of those things where the utmost care had to be taken. Not a single mistake could be allowed, and as such he had temporarily shouldered the burden of sorting through every single boring report that had been written that night. It was taking forever.

He glanced over some notes. The rebels had focused most of their efforts on being noticed. The explosions of the foundries and factories had been their first move. They had then moved on to collapsing Tower 17. An expensive loss, to be sure, but the tower could be rebuilt better. In a way, they had saved him money. Normally he’d have to pay to demolish an old skydock. The smoke and fire had, admittedly, caused a disturbance in the Outer City, and even his best interference runners had had difficulty keeping troublesome officials away. Despite their efforts. though, the rebellion had been for naught. Facilities were rebuilt, slaves were replaced, and eyes were turned.

With another sip of wine, he grabbed a pile of reports and walked out onto his balcony. Up here, high up on the central tower of Harmony City, he was above the ponies of Equestria, the trading giants of the Outer World, and even the clouds themselves. He could see everything from atop his tower. As much as he would have liked to enjoy the view, though, there was work to be done. He looked down to the paper in his hooves.

He skimmed it to see if it was of great importance, taking another sip of the wine. Halfway down the page, his eyes widened. He read through it again. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, and read it another time.

“Fffffuuuuuuuuuuucckk!”

He stormed back into his office and read the report a fourth time. Those damn rebels! Imbecile slaves! A dozen curses raged through his mind as he furiously pulled on a bell hanging nearby. A flustered orderly stumbled into the room, scrambling to stand before the Baron.

“Get me Apricot Seed, now!” he roared.

Within ten minutes, the unicorn stood before him. He was shaking, eyes down as a soft whimper escaped him.

“Apricot…” The Baron began softly. He took a few seconds to organize his thoughts. He didn’t want to seem like he was out of control. He had to make sure that his message was conveyed with crystal clear clarity.

“What, the fuck, were you thinking!?” He rose out of his seat, slamming his forehooves down upon the desk. Thankfully, it didn’t break. That wood was priceless.

Apricot flinched away from the outburst, stammering out a quick apology. “I’m s-sorry, sir—“

“Sorry!?” Baron shouted. “Sorry!? You get my prototype stolen and cost me three frigates, and you say you’re sorry? Oh, well I guess that makes everything better then, you stupid shit!”

“The r-rebels, sir—“

“Rebels!” He tossed his hooves up in frustration. “Fucking rebels! I give you, one, task! Are you truly so incredibly incompetent that you can’t stop four drunk slaves from stealing an airship?”

“The g-guards were asking for r-reinforcements at Tower—“

“Then you should have said no! Idiot!” he screamed. “Do you have any idea how expensive it will be to replace that ship?”

“I—“

“Shut up!” Baron cut him off with a raised hoof. He took a deep breath and looked down to his desk, shuffling papers about. “Someone is going to have to fix your mistake,” he muttered.

Apricot looked around nervously, shaking. He started to back away, eyes fixed on the ground, but Baron was not the type of pony to let failure of such magnitude go unpunished. A pair of guards stepped from the shadows, grabbing Apricot roughly.

“No!” he screamed.

Baron looked up casually. “Take him to the channel pits.”

“No! Please! I’m sorry! I’ll do anything! Please!”

With a signal from Baron, the guards delivered a harsh blow to Apricot’s head. He fell silent. Baron kept his eyes fixed on his papers as the unconscious unicorn was dragged from the room.

He let another sigh pass through his body, and lightly brushed the jewel hanging on his necklace. He looked over to the orderly standing silently by his desk. He’s one of the good ones. Always knows when I’ve things for him to do. Baron made a mental note to reward him for his service. Sometime later, though. Right now, there were more important matters at hoof.

“Get me Pen Knife and Ash Fall,” he said. “Put Order 94 into action. It’s time to bring civilization back to the Outer World.”

“There’s just one.”

Stormslider lowered the rune gun, pulling her eye from the simple scope that she had yesterday attached to it. She looked to Ember, who was standing behind her.

“Take him,” she said. “We can’t let him warn the others.”

Storm nodded, and slowly brought the sights back up. The crew was gathered behind some rocks on the edge of a shallow plateau, looking down on a cave below them. Storm and Ember were outfitted in zebra armor, tight fitting leather with bronze plating, modified to fit their forms. Silver Feather sat nearby, wearing an unzipped tan flight jacket with a small omega symbol drawn on the collar as he cradled his lightning gun. Cleaver stood tall near the rear, scanning the horizon and holding a heavy hammer in his teeth. Phoenix Down was shaking nervously as she sorted through a pack of primitive medical supplies.

Casually noting the long shadows cast by the sun setting behind her, Storm focused her scope upon the lone form guarding the outside of the cave. He was of some species she had never seen before. Some strange, half-striped variety of pegasus. But he was a pony nonetheless. And here I am, to take his life.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked. She had never killed before, and even she was having trouble containing her nerves behind her usual calm.

“We’re stuck here, Stormslider. This isn’t Equestria; you have to fight to survive in the Outer World. We took this job, and you have to do your part,” Ember replied.

No, Storm thought, you took this job. She had felt that something like this might be asked of her ever since Ember walked in brandishing a wanted poster.

“We don’t have to kill anyone. The poster said alive.” She moved her crosshairs off the half-pegasus’ head and down to the legs.

Ember sighed. “Yes, but I doubt his friends will step aside and let us tie him up, and nobody cares if they die. We can’t do this without killing someone. It would be too risky.”

Stormslider took a deep, shaky breath. She didn’t like this. Every part of her being was telling her to put the gun away. Say no. Step back. But she could see the logic of Ember’s claim. This wasn’t Equestria. This was a matter of survival. They needed gold, and right now, the gold rested upon somepony’s head.

Resolved to take the shot, she focused back on the scope and adjusted the gun’s position on the rock. The strange pegasus was asleep, dozing against the cave entrance outside. She narrowed her eyes, body tensing, but couldn’t bring herself to pull the trigger. She whipped her tail in frustration.

“Storm, what are you waiting for?” Ember asked. “We’re losing daylight.”

Cleaver put a patient hoof on her shoulder. “Do not rush her. She is not used to this life.”

Don’t think about it. Stormslider took a deep breath and pushed her conscious thought away. She cleared her mind. All body and no mind, she whispered to her gun.

“Ignus.”

She immediately regretted it, but found that she couldn’t pull the gun away. The same force which had stopped her from firing before now held her in place. She watched in terror as the gun charged, and the telltale glow of rune magic seeped out of the barrel.

Silently, the heavy slug was ejected from the gun. The world seemed to slow down, and she found herself unable to tear her eyes away. The target’s head exploded into a gory bouquet.

She fell back, barely reserving the conscious thought needed to grab the gun and stop it from toppling down the cliff. The gun had shot silently, but her ears were still ringing. It had given no kick, but she felt as if someone had just bucked her hard in the chest. She shook her head, breathing strained.

“Storm, get back in position! We need you to cover us,” Ember ordered. She peered at the bloodied cave entrance cautiously.

Cleaver pushed her away. “Calm yourself, Ember! It was her first kill.” Storm nodded to him thankfully. She had never heard him raise his voice like that before.

Finally, her usual calm demeanor restored itself. Calm, cool, collected. She recited the words to herself like a mantra, fighting to control her emotions. Emotion is a flaw in the mind of an engineer. It clouded judgment. It had to be contained.

A shout rang out from the direction of the cave, and Ember’s ears twitched as she searched for the source. She let out a curse and flicked her lighter on. “Fuck! They saw the body. Storm, stay up here. Rest of you with me.”

Silver stayed behind as the rest of the crew cantered away. Storm gave him a small, reassuring smile and climbed to her hooves. He nodded, turning to gallop after the others.

She numbly returned to her firing position and set up the rune gun, putting her eye to the scope. She had killed once. She wouldn’t lose control again. She would do what had to be done.

Silver Feather skidded to a stop next to Ember, Cleaver, and Nix, all huddled together behind a large rock in front of the cave.

“Here’s the plan,” Ember said. “Silver will start off with a few rounds from the lightning gun, and then Cleaver and I will charge in, doing our best to flush them out into the open for Storm. Phoenix, you back us up with your rune gun. Try not to kill us. And Silver, keep the lightning soft. We don’t want to accidentally kill the target.”

Nix nodded shakily, holding the rune gun tight to her chest. Silver slid his goggles down. He had no qualms over killing things. Not anymore. He would kill everyone in that cave if it came to it.

Ember waved him forward with a hoof. He sprinted out from behind the rock, rushing up to the side of the cave’s entrance. With the lightning gun strapped to his chest under his good wing, he peeked around the corner and pulled the trigger with a feather.

His pent-up grief came out in a furious scream that matched the heat of the lightning before him. One, two, three, four times he pulled the trigger. Four times thunder roared down the cave, leaving all inside with their ears ringing. Four times lightning illuminated the stunned shock on the faces of his victims as they were blinded and deafened all at once.

Ember and Cleaver wasted no time charging into the cave, and in his rage Silver almost forgot to stop shooting. Heart pounding, he watched as Ember pulled a mighty fireball from her lighter and cast it into the back of the cave. At the same time, Cleaver ran through everything before him, toppling those who opposed him with a single mighty swing from his hammer. The strange ponies broke easily, deafened and blinded, with a raging inferno behind them and the two Equestrians smashing through them. They screamed in panic and took wing, flying as fast as they could to get out of the restricting cave. A few stayed behind, determined to fight to the death, and were rewarded with a fiery holocaust from Ember’s horn.

Silver spotted the target as he rose out of the cave and prepared to take a shot at him. He knew that the lightning would probably kill him, but he hardly cared. He was relishing the release of the battle. He would get his revenge on this world.

He was too slow. Stormslider’s rune slug punched through the target’s wing, and he spiraled into the dust.

Silver turned his attention to the others fleeing from the site, a sick smile spreading across his face as he imagined shooting them out of the sky.

Suddenly, Nix slammed into him from the side, pinning him to the rock. “No!” she shouted. “Can’t you see that they’re running? Let them go!”

“Get off!” Silver struggled, surprised at her strength, but it didn’t take him long to realize the weight of what he had just done. Of what he had been about to do. Kill out of spite. In cold blood. He shook his goggles off and looked to the gentle earth pony.

“Thanks,” he said. He could barely believe himself. “I owe you one.”

Nix stared into his eyes, searching. She nodded, and gave him a weak little smile before backing off and returning to her rune gun, lying in the dust. She hadn’t fired a single shot.

Stormslider was the first to reach the target, and the rest of the crew was quick to follow. Nix held back shyly while the others circled the one-winged, half-striped pegasus lying in the dirt.

He coughed. “What’d I—What’d I ever do to you? Fucking Equestrians. You come to finish the j-job? Huh? Well get the fuck on with it!”

“What are you?” Stormslider asked. “Some kind of pegasus pony?’

He let out a strained chuckle. “Thank the—the hells I’m not. I’m a fucking recusant! And my kind are- are going to h-hunt you all down! I swear—I swear by my mother’s mark!” Blood was starting to pool in the dust below him, and Ember beckoned Nix forwards.

“Keep him alive. We don’t want to ruin the contract,” she ordered.

Nix approached slowly, her tail dragging through the dust. Dropping the medkit at her hooves, she rolled the recusant over to reveal the bloody stump on his side. The high caliber rune slug had torn right through the bone, shearing the wing off with a single strike.

Silver’s bad wing twitched sentimentally. He knew how it felt to be grounded.

“Here, bite down on this,” Nix said, holding a thick rag before the recusant. Confused, he eyed her nervously. Such kindness, in the aftermath of such ferocity? He spat on her hoof.

Nix frowned, but left the rag by his mouth. He cried out, glaring at the Equestrians around him furiously, as she poured cheap booze into the wound. Luckily, the bullet had passed through before the secondary shrapnel spell went off. Within a few minutes, Nix had cleaned, dressed, and bandaged the wound. Cleaver hogtied the recusant, and Ember levitated him behind the crew as they returned to where they had parked the Omega.

Silver fidgeted nervously as Ember released her magic, and the recusant fell to the ground with a deep thud.

Their employer, some kind of wingless, long-eared gargoyle, stepped forwards slowly and put a claw under the recusant’s chin.

“A pleassure to finally meet you, bandit,” the gargoyle hissed. He raised the recusant’s head to look him in the eyes, and a wicked smile spread across his face. The recusant glared at him and struggled vainly against his bonds.

Ember cleared her throat. “Our payment.”

The gargoyle looked up, seemingly displeased at the interruption to his gloating, but nodded appreciatively anyways. “Yess, of coursse,” he said. “Thiss pesst and hiss clan have cosst me greatly. Thank you for your help, Equesstrian. ‘Tis but a ssmall price to pay for ssuch a sservice.”

He pulled a bag of gold out from his cloak and tossed it to Ember, who caught it in her magic.

“A pleasure doing business with you,” she said. With a nod to the others, she turned to leave.

Nix hesitated, staying behind. “If I might ask, what will you do with him?”

The gargoyle grinned evilly. “Oh, I’ll think of ssomething.”

Finally.

I practically jumped for joy as I reached the bottom of what was, as far as I could tell, the last accursed hill I’d have to climb. The only thing that stopped me was the bleak path ahead.

Before me lay a wide, flat expanse that I could only describe as the definition of wasteland. The brown, dead earth was pockmarked with small, water-filled craters, and the river’s water turned dark and murky. The horizon was swallowed up by the thick fog hanging over the land. All I could see through it was the distant silhouettes of stunted, leafless trees.

I swallowed, trying not to imagine what creatures lived in this part of the Outer World.

I looked up. The sun was setting. I didn’t feel like trekking through that foggy wasteland at night, so I searched for a place to set up camp. There wasn’t really much to choose from. Amongst tall grass and a few small rocks, only one lonely tree dared to grow so close to the fog.

I dropped my saddlebags against the trunk and began to unpack, rolling a thick blanket onto the grass and constructing a simple firepit. Although I had trouble finding the wood needed for the fire, having only one tree to supply me, there were plenty of stones to keep what little flame I could muster from spreading.

The sun drifted below the horizon, leaving only my tiny fire to light the world. Pitiful. I doubted it would last through the night. I would have to try and sleep in the tree if I didn’t want to get eaten.

My stomach grumbled, and I returned to my bags for something to eat. Nothing left. I was all out.
I sighed. Left with no other choice, I got to grazing. I didn’t like Outer World grass very much. It was just as rough as the people that inhabited it, and it would cut me sometimes when I swallowed. Didn’t taste good, either. It was all dry, and lacked any real taste. It was a chore just to chew.

As I ripped a mouthful of grass out of the ground, I heard a noise coming out of the fog. I perked up, ears twitching, chewing quietly as I strained to place it. Nothing. Cautiously, I lowered my muzzle to take another bite.

I heard something running, somewhere in the dark. My head shot up. What in the name of love and tolerance…? I spent a good ten minutes listening to the soft crackle of the fire, searching the night.

With the sun now set, it was practically impossible to see anything. My fire did nothing but cast flighty, mysterious shadows over the ground. Everywhere I looked, the waving grass formed itself into deathly apparitions. The extra light I cast from my horn served only to amplify the effect. A gust of wind breezed past.

With a dismal little sputter, my fire went out.

A chill ran down my spine.

I trotted back to the tree, resisting the temptation to break into a gallop. Just noises, Dissero. Noises and wind. You’re not afraid of the dark anymore, remember?

I drew myself back against the tree, chewing quietly at what grass I could reach. My eyes darted side to side. My ears twitched. The unknown of the dark and silence was more terrifying than any Outer World beast that might actually inhabit it. My mind took every noise and imagined a demon of death and destruction.

Whenever you’re out in the wilderness alone, at night time, with your imagination creeping up on you from every direction, a little bit of music does a lot to drive it away.

I levitated the harmonica out of my bags, tentatively putting it to my lips. I trusted Hunter, but was having trouble convincing my body that playing music was a good idea right now. I sat there for at least thirty silent minutes, mouth upon the cool metal, working up the courage to do it.

Finally, I managed to push out a breath. A shaky note slid out. Nothing came to kill me.

Encouraged by my success, I played another note. Stronger this time. Then again. The noise cut through the night like a beacon of light. I paused. A little smile emerged.

I played the note as loud as I could, daring my nightmares to come for me. Suddenly, the shadows didn’t seem so scary. The harmonica filled the gloom like the talk of friends in a dark old house, and I felt my heart lifting.

I slid my mouth an inch and puffed experimentally. A higher note. I shimmied in the other direction. A lower note. I breathed in and discovered a whole new range of sound.

I took a deep breath and played freely. The music swelled out from within me, and my eyes widened as I noticed that I was playing a happy little jig. These things are easy to play! Pulling the harmonica away, I let loose a loud laugh. Scared of the night! Who had ever heard of such a thing?

A pack of wolves howled from somewhere within the fog. It took me all of a minute to levitate the bedroll up into the tree and climb up after it.

Still scared of wolves.

Holy shit, my back hurts.

I practically fell out of the tree, back aching from the awkward positioning and hard surface. My bedroll did its job decently when applied to the ground, but no matter how soft and comfy it might make a tree branch, soft and comfy still hurt when it was grinding up into your side.

I spent a few minutes just laying in the grass, eyes screwed up in agony at the pain in my back. It seemed I simply couldn’t touch a tree without spending the night next to it and waking up with extra pains.

My gaze drifted over the tree disdainfully, and I was presented with the disturbing sight of claw marks on the trunk.

Those hadn’t been there before...

Time to head out!

I packed my bedroll, made sure everything that belonged in my pack was there, and grabbed a mouthful of grass for the walk. I had a feeling that it might be hard finding something green in that wasteland.

With another glance at the river, I stepped into the omnipresent fog.

It didn’t take long for me to lose myself within it. After a minute of walking, the tree I had spent the night in was gone. The thick fog and lack of landmarks gave the impression of going nowhere. The silent void surrounding me made it easy to believe that I had simply fallen into limbo, cursed to wander endlessly until my bones faded away. The world stood still here.

I tried to look up and steal a glance at the sun, but even it couldn’t break through the heavy mist. The way that the sunlight dissipated through it all evenly, I couldn’t even hazard a guess as to where it might be. I was, essentially, in the middle of nowhere. If it wasn’t for the river, I would’ve lost my way and probably never gotten back out.

For hours I walked, with nothing but the quiet passage of the water to assure me that anything still existed at all. In the distance, I could see the dark shadows of strange shapes as I passed them by. Some of them looked like uprooted trees. The rest brought forth images of impaled bodies, skeletons, and broken machinery. It was all I could do to keep my eyes forwards.

I heard the gentle roar of waves ahead of me, and sped into a trot. I must almost be there. I could hardly wait to get out of this creepy place and amongst the living once more.

I broke into an all-out gallop. I really couldn’t wait.

Suddenly, my hooves were sinking into sand, and then splashing through water. I looked down, perturbed, to find foamy waves swirling around me. Returning my gaze forwards, I realized that I had reached the ocean.

Shit.

I backtracked, spreading my map out on the driest piece of land I could find. Even so, I could feel the paper starting to fall apart from the humidity.

According to the map, the city I was supposed to be heading to should be right here. On the mouth of this river. I looked closer, squinting to try and figure out the name of the city.

New...

I couldn’t tell what came after that.

What was wrong? Had I found the wrong river? That made no sense! There was only one river immediately southwest of the Stygian’s old cave! Had I made a wrong turn? I didn’t remember the river forking anywhere. I traced my path across the map ten times. It should be here!

I felt myself beginning to panic. What was I going to do? I had nothing to do! I had no food. I had no home. I had no idea where I was. The old map in my hooves only included a small region around New Whatever, and it didn’t even seem to know where the city was!

Okay. Think, Dissero. Think. You have the river...

I could use the river! Settlements need water. They grow next to rivers. I would just follow the river, eating the grass that grew next to it, and hopefully I’d find some town or village that wouldn’t want to kill me.

Without warning, a bear roared from somewhere in the fog. I crouched down instinctively. I had to get to a hiding spot.

The wolves were howling again. I ran for one of the shapes, half-obscured through the fog, and hid behind the upturned chariot that coalesced before me. One of the wheels was shattered, but the remainder was outfitted with deadly sharp blades.

It sounded like the bear and wolves were fighting. And the fight was getting closer. Hoping for a better look, I peeked through a hole in the chariot’s broken carriage. I was rewarded with the sight of the beasts fighting each other, their shapes blurred by the haze.

The smaller, more lithe shapes I took to be the wolves ran circles around the lumbering bear, sweeping in to nip at his paws before ducking away. He roared his fury at them, and one of the wolves leaped onto his back. The bear reared up and reached back, picking the wolf off of him, pinning it to the ground, and slicing into it with his claws. The wolf whined and fell silent.

Then, the bear did something I had never seen a bear do before. Remaining on its hind legs, it unsheathed what looked like some sort of weapon, brandishing it in its forepaws. It was hard to tell through the fog, but it looked like a giant axe.

The wolves were surprisingly uncoordinated, too. I had never known of any wolf pack that didn’t know how to work as a team. They knew how to distract the bear, but they didn’t know how to take advantage of it. They leaped for him as individuals, and he easily swatted them aside before ending them with a single slice from his axe.

Soon, the whole pack was dead or dying. From my vantage point behind the wrecked chariot, I watched through the mist as his blurred shadow sorted through the bodies. Deciding I would wait for him to finish his business before doing anything else, I carefully moved away from my peephole.

I stepped back, but didn’t feel anything behind me. Surprised by the lack of ground, I stumbled, falling into a pony-sized crater full of water with a deadly loud splash.

Shit!

I heard the bear stop. His heavy steps lumbered towards me.

I lay paralyzed with fear as his shadow fell upon the chariot.

Author's Notes:

Cliffhanger!
What will our horned hero do, when faced with the wrath of the mighty bear who may or may not be dragonborn?

For the record, he totally isn't dragonborn.