The Scroll of Exalted Ponies

With ghostly hooves that blackened the thin dusty layer of pale gray ash and dust, and wooden tiles of the slightly angled roof that a surprised Speaker and now also an annoyed Shimmer was on, the deathknight pony known to them as the Bodhisattva of Resurgent Misery and Lost Causes bowed his head.

Noting how the entangling tendrils seemed to actively shy away from the Bodhisattva, fading into nothing as he passed close by them, Speaker quickly made the decision to help Shimmer up – she wasn’t hurt in any meaningful way, what wounds she might have gotten from the changeling warriors having healed already thanks to her shapeshifting powers. Still, the immediate urge to help her was stronger than his curiosity of what the deathknight wanted, and she appreciated that.

Seeing that Speaker was still paying attention to him, albeit without acknowledging that fact, the Bodhisattva explained his plight: “I require the aid of you and your circle to recover a cache of first age artifacts”

As Speaker helped Shimmer back on her now hooves, the deathknight explained that he had been searching through the underground of Firewander, exploring Hollow to find… a series of hearthstones. Apparently the Bodhisattva had learned through interrogating ancient ghosts that the old first age rulers of Hollow had owned the hearthstones to a series of ancient war manses, manses made in the form of fortresses and weapons platforms – places now lost to the wyld, but supposedly still existing as lone islands of reality in the seas of chaos beyond Creation’s current borders. He hoped that via the use of hearthstone-compasses he could find lost weapons of primordial slaying, so that he could finish his grim task.

“Ok – but you say that someone took them? You don’t look like a pony who gets robbed, let alone look like a pony” Shimmer quipped.

Nodding as he pulled up a hood of sewn-together rat pelts to cover his hideous head with something only slightly less revolting, the Bodhisattva added: “I was close to finding what I sought, but then another treasure hunter beat me to it…”

“Any idea who it was?” Speaker wondered, finding the idea of possibly learning of the location of first age war manses irresistible. Lookshy was well known to richly reward those who sold it exotic and rare first age weapons – it would be a fitting way to return to Lookshy as a solar.

The Bodhisattva’s face rippled, furrows forming in the spectral flesh – culminating in a momentary sea of wrinkles: “Yes and no… It was no unicorn, but the pony was with enlightened essence and knowledge of the first age mechanisms that held the vault I sought closed. Equally the pony had powerful disguise charms, although I’m no tracker so they might not have been that impressive”

“Could it have been a solar who lived here before the usurpation?” Speaker wondered. The deathknight noted that whatever the source of the pony’s powers were, then he did not know of it.

Returning to the town house, lugging the deathknight along by having the Bodhisattva dispel his own ghostly limbs, leaving only a rib-cage encased in near-indestructible soulsteel armor and a ghostly head, which was stuffed in a thick sack, the circle was summoned and the deathnight presented his plight to the whole circle, except Red and Sunrise who couldn’t be reached – and the Bodhisattva did not wish to wait.

“Well, with what you're offering to pay I can fund the clinic expansion… but, is this all you have for tracking this pony?” Speaker wondered, looking at the otherwise quite nicely detailed painted sketch that the Bodhisattva had rendered of the rather unique hoof-prints he had found of his quarry.

The hoof-prints were unique in the sense that, while undeniably hoof-prints, then they had claws on them. Shimmer had pointed out that such hoofprints might hint of the pony being a Lunar, but while poking around in the Firewander underground she hadn’t seen any fresh ‘markings’ indicating Lunar activity in that area.

“Well Mister uhm… what exactly do we call you? I mean, sorry, anyway with these prints – I will need to examine the place you were trying to get into, to see how this other pony got in” Sullen Hoof noted, thankful that the Bodhisattva was wearing a hood and cloak over himself. The irony of such a sentiment considering Sullen Hoof’s own melty facial appearance was not something he considered.

Bowing his head ever so slightly, the deathknight spoke – his voice still sounding like a horror from beyond the grave: “I can escort you to this location, but beware: The wyld energies there are strong, so you will need means to resist its mutating powers. Beyond that, then I no longer go by my given title of Bodhisattva of Resurgent Misery and Lost Causes, for I have chosen a title more befitting my freed will”

“And what exactly would that be? Ghostfaced Spookyhoof?” Cash said in jest.

The Bodhisattva turned to give Cash a piercing glare – not that he could give much else, considering that the blood-spheres that were the deathknight’s eyes could be seen clearly through the abyssal’s transparent ghost flesh: “I call myself the Recalcitrant Bodhisattva of Penance and Suffering Ended. You can simply continue to address me as Bodhisattva for short”
Speaker offered to join the expedition, to grant the protection that his chaos repelling ward could offer, with Shimmer saying that she would join as well – surprising no-one.

The trek into the undercity of Firewander, the ruins of ancient Hollow, was not easy. There were no officially sanctioned or maintained passages into the area – indeed, most such passages that were officially discovered were officially sealed, to prevent changelings from pouring out of them. Additionally, with spring coming into full effect the waters of the Grey and Yellow river had already begun their annual rise – soon they would flood most of the lower-lying parts of Nexus, including the place that the Bodhisattva wanted to show.

Following the deathknight through several dark tunnels in the undercity, through holes smashed in ancient walls of mysterious materials, past hovels of scrap and the pathetic looking and wretched ponies that lived in them, the circle ultimately crossed past the ramshackle warning signs that marked the underground entry-points into the most heavily irradiated underground wyld zones of Firewander.

Outside of the island of normality enforced by Speaker’s charm, the stone and dirt around the circle began to change color, texture and even consistency wildly. In some areas colors were supernaturally bright, to the point that the dancing lights thrown off even bits of dust from the glow of the circle’s glowing animas looked hypnotic. The abundance of claw-marks and pony skeletons didn’t bode well either, for they were the sad remains of the hapless victims of the changelings once they had been drained completely of emotions, dreams and willpower.

There were surprisingly few changelings to be seen so deep into the wyld zone, the very heart of Firewander, but the Bodhisattva explained that in the months he’d been searching he had made his presence and abilities well known to the changelings: “The few who bothered to speak to me has let me know that their leader, a changeling noble who calls itself King Everfree, considers me a dark void to be avoided – so her drones stay well away from me where possible”

“I assume that they didn’t think so to begin with?” Shimmer wondered.

The deathknight peered into the darkness of a low-roofed cavern through a hole in the wall of the tunnel they were in: “Of course not, but I can destroy Changelings quite effectively – also, this is the spot, in through here”

Slipping through the small hole in the wall thanks to his malleable ghost limbs, leaving the rest of the circle to break down bits of the tunnel wall to make way, the Bodhisattva surveyed the area. It was a dusty and claustrophobic undertaking, as it was clear that few mortal souls had been in this part of Firewander or Hollow for a very long time. Only the faint hoofmarks left behind by the Bodhisattva’s spectral hooves – and that of the circle’s – were there to give signs of living ponies having been there. In the distance, down dark tunnels and through other holes or smashed windows of ruined buildings faint buzzing and chitering could be heard, the sign that the local changelings with their ravenous insect-like forms weren’t that far away…

The vault that the deathknight had sought was part of an ancient building made of a pale yellow, almost greenish, stone. It had bits of its original decoration still intact: Floral motifs and tiny dancing ponies etched into its façade – all echoes of a time when Creation had been so much richer and more vibrant.

The vault itself was a marvelous construction of three foot thick jade-steel – the bright white metal was a dead giveaway – it was also worth a fortune, but was far too massive to ever be moved. The locking mechanism was so complex that Sullen Hoof at first found himself completely at a loss at how a pony might have even activated it, but Shimmer and Speaker helped with their essence sight, finding trace amounts of strange dark and greenish essence…

“Dark essence – was it another abyssal exalt?” Sullen Hoof inquired, sounding no small amount of worried.

The Bodhisattva shrugged under his cloak: “It’s could be – I don’t know specifically if any other deathknights are operating in Nexus, but I would be very surprised if there weren’t. It’s a prime target if striking against the east”

While that was in no way very uplifting, Speaker pointed something out regarding the greenish essence him and Shimmer had also spotted traces of: “This isn’t wood aspected essence – its emerald green…”

Sullen Hoof looked around at the Bodhisattva, Speaker and Shimmer – their faces all told him that they knew what this meant. He did not: “And that’s a sign of what?”

“Demons” the Bodhisattva solemnly stated, sounding quite displeased.

Sullen Hoof’s only encounter with demons being the time the circle had slogged through his first age training manse and found the giant demonic spiders, he wasn’t entirely sure how to react to this news.

Speaker and Shimmer were, with Shimmer sounding particularly worried: “I’ve encountered Akuma in the west – this is really bad. If demons get a hold of war manses creation would be in all kinds of trouble”

“Akuma?” Sulllen Hoof asked.

Apparently the term was what one used to describe a pony who’d literally sold his or her soul to the yozis in exchange for power. Shimmer explained that in the west, where many tribes were at the mercy of the changelings that came with the tides to eat their hopes and dreams, it wasn’t that uncommon for the few ponies who knew how to contact demons to attempt to strike bargains with them – for protection initially: “…but deals with demons never end well. To demons ponies are lesser things that are to be kept as slaves and playthings. Akuma are ponies who’ve given away their free will and become a puppet for a demon master”

“Perfect! Then I think I know who we’re looking for!” Sullen Hoof blurted out, looking around at the circle.

Sullen Hoof explained that he’d recently been trying to track down a rapist and murderer who’d been killing off street walkers in the Harlotry district. He had always wondered why the immaculates had been involved, and why the talk in the area had been of a ‘demon rapist’ – but if it was a pony empowered with demonic essence, then it made all kinds of sense – even if it begged the question of how that name came to be.

“It even fits with what we can see here – or rather what we can’t. Look around: There’s no hoof-prints of this pony here, but there is a demonic essence signature. Bodhisattva, where did you see his hoof-print?” Sullen Hoof quickly said, scanning the scene for any clues he might have overlooked.

The Bodhisattva gestured with a ghost limb at a tunnel leading away from the small cavern they were in: “When I came here I briefly saw the pony fleeing the scene. I gave chase, but he outran me – leaving tracks down the tunnel there when he began to run”

Inspecting the hoof-prints Shimmer quickly noted a less than obvious fact: “These hoof-prints are too far apart – this is much faster than a mortal pony can gallop”

“If he’s empowered with demonic essence then that’s a given” Sullen Hoof noted, pointing out that the hoof-prints were in an almost perfectly straight line, hinting that the pony couldn’t turn well when galloping really fast.

The Bodhisattva was pleased with this development: “I will make inquiries to the immaculates about what they know – I can contact them through the morticians up in Sijan town: They can say it’s about putting the ghosts of the victims to ease”

Sullen Hoof nodded: “Fair enough –I guess you can’t show yourself very much in public looking like that, even with the cloak”
With little else left to do at the vault, Speaker just wanted a look inside it before they left for the surface.

The inside of the vault was full of tiny metal and wooden boxes strewn across the floor – many smashed or crushed. From the crumbling shreds left in some of the boxes it was clear that most had contained documents and scrolls. The walls of the vault contained rows upon rows of shelves for the boxes, but they were all empty.

Shimmer, when she was sent into the vault to fetch Speaker as the circle was about to leave, did sniff out one thing that hadn’t been destroyed in the vault – or been taken by the demonic pony: A small woven bag with a hoof-sized plant bulb which had somehow remained fresh since the first age. It was stashed elsewhere for later examination, after which the circle made haste out of the ruins.

Back in the town house the circle took stock of the situation, the Bodhisattva having left for his apartment in sijan town – a four by five block part of northern Nighthammer district where the sijaneese morticians stored and shipped out the dead of Nexus on their corpse barges for Sijan itself.

The first thing the circle did was listen to Sullen Hoof was he filled them in on this demon rapist of Harlotry: “He’s apparently been active for almost six months now, approaching streetwalker prostitutes like normal but then… well… you’ll have to see
one of the crime-scenes to believe it, but he fucks his victims to death”

“Well that’s a novel way of murder – but are we sure it’s the same pony. Couldn’t there be more than one of these akuma ponies here in Nexus? I can think of several ponies who might be willing to strike dark deals to further their own business interests…” Cash noted.

Shimmer again explained how that becoming akuma meant giving away your free will – unless it had been possible for the pony to negotiate his new purpose in life before the final soul-rendering ritual, then any business interests had likely been pushed to the side in favor of simply pleasing and serving a master who wished nothing good for Creation.

Sullen Hoof added that, with regards to the demon rapist, then he had so far proven impossible to track.

“I’ll bet he hasn’t been tracked by a Lunar” Shimmer noted.

Making an uncertain gesture, Sullen Hoof expressed his doubts: “I’ve been trying to nail this pony almost ever since we got here – the bounty for him is almost twice what the Bodhisattva is paying us for this”

“Wow, does that mean that the brothel owners in Harlotry are scared that this pony will start going after their workers?” Cash wondered.

Frowning, Sullen Hoof explained that it was more likely because it was scaring away clients: “Streetwalkers are a rarity in Harlotry. The brothels don’t like the competition, and it’s usually easy to send out muscle to force away streetwalkers. The problem is that clients won’t go near Harlotry if it’s hosed down in blood”

“Wait, what? I thought you said this stallion just fucks ponies to death – why the blood-splatter?” Shimmer inquired, confused regarding the connections between dying from what she figured was coital exhaustion and blood being smeared all over the walls.

“Like I said, you will have to see it to believe it” Sullen Hoof said, sounding very much as if he had seen what he’s talking about.

The next day the circle made rounds in the Harlotry district, on the eastern fringe of the Nexus district, not that far from the circle’s town house. Cash found it endlessly amusing as Sullen Hoof gave the circle a guided tour of where he had grown up: “Over there you have Softest Sushi, where you can eat sushi off naked ponies – there are other restaurants where you can eat other things off ponies as well all over here”

Cash spotted a place called “Hay Holes” but didn’t inquire into its exact meaning.

Trotting past two brothels that seemed to run in tandem, one specializing in peeing or being peed on – the other one dealing with even less savory and hygienic bodily excretions - the “Brown Bounty” and the “Gilded Lilly”, Sullen Hoof stopped to gaze down an alley that led to the channel that separated the Nexus district with the Manehattan district. For a brief moment, as the wind shifted direction, a lot of quiet sulking and weeping could be heard from the direction of the channel.

“What’s down there?” Shimmer asked, looking concerned – thinking it was a orphanage or brothel that did in spanking, judging from the sound of tearful cries.

Sullen Hoof’s face – disguised as some random generic-looking servant pony as always - soured: “The screaming cages”
“And that is, what?” Cash followed up. Moments later he wished he hadn’t: Sullen Hoof explained that when slaves destined to work in Harlotry’s less savory brothels came into Nexus – since it was against the civilities to enslave free ponies inside Nexus – they were put into cages hanging over the grand canal. There they would be starved and beaten with sticks until they were fully broken, then they would be trained as exotic sex slaves, be it for brothels where you pay to beat up hookers, or ‘sexy’ mud wrestling arenas.

“My mother was ‘reborn’ in the screaming cages – took her almost all her life to break her conditioning and demand her freedom. You see, if a slave breaks her conditioning but can still work they’re usually freed and then hired as free ponies in more normal brothels” Sullen Hoof elaborated, his grotesque face making it difficult but not impossible to see the disdain he was showing.

Speaker couldn’t put into words how horrible and disgusting such a practice was. Shimmer could, and several nearby sailor ponies blushed as they overheard her decidedly salty utterances. Cash gleefully took notes.

“When Nexus comes under Solar control this place will be the first to burn” Sullen Hoof quietly but resolutely stated, nodding to himself.

Trotting further along through Harlotry, past scores of brothels that each offered a unique kind of service – some with creatively costumed prostitutes, so the costumers could act out various fantasies, while others looked down right heretical by most civilized standards:

“Sully, is that place serious?” Speaker wondered, looking at a brothel that had a sign out in front that indicated that its costumers could have sex with actual demons. Sully nodded, noting that it was run by a unicorn sorcerer who summoned various demons and bound their wills quite safely – it was one of the weirder brothels in Harlotry.

As he was about to move on, Speaker noticed that Shimmer looked oddly lost in thought as she was staring at a brothel that had the peculiar name of “Anathema” – written in silver letters on a dark blue sign: “Shimmer, is – wow, Hey Sully, what’s up with this place?”

Shimmer didn’t say anything – at least not anything intelligible beyond making hushing sounds as she quickly ushered the circle onwards, out of sight of the heretically if not humorously named brothel.

“Ok, care to explain Shimmer?” Sullen Hoof wondered, curious to whether Shimmer had some kind of past connection with the place.

Visibly shaking, Shimmer took a moment to calm herself: “No – I mean yes, but last I was here I never spotted the place. I thought it was a legend, one I’ve been told back home in the west: It’s run by a snake-totemed elder lunar much older and much meaner than me – so stay the hell away from there, because you do not want her giving you attention”

“Her personality matches her totem?” Sullen Hoof inquired, curious if his little theory applied to all Lunars or if it was more random, and if so how Shimmer’s personality was gull-like.

Nodding ever so slightly, Shimmer said that the lunar that ran Anathema was the source of a lot of sea-serpent myths in the west – and that she supposedly had a rumored habit of shifting into a pony-sized snake and eating those who displease her, including bad lovers. Cash suddenly seemed far less curious about the place.

As the circle passed a cloak stall for ponies who didn’t want to be recognized going in or out of brothels, the crowds around them suddenly parted – a young foal ran past them, hollering at the top of her lungs: “The demon rapist struck again!” over and over.

With a swift motion Shimmer had the foal scooped up, Cash speaking calming words and offering payment if the foal could take them to the scene of the crime.

One and a half block over the circle was shown an alley that was already cordoned off by mercenaries – mercenaries who were amusingly familiar with Speaker and Cash.

“Captain Ironmane, fancy seeing you again” Cash cheerfully exclaimed, stepping up to the very surprised mercenary officer and the three other ponies at arms from the mercenary company known as The Merchanter’s Armory. One of them was wearing an eye-patch and looked positively horrified to see Cash again.

The look on Captain Ironmane, a stern mare with a helmet that was actually made to look like a polished steel mane, with her lamellar armor and her short spear, was not a pleased one. She would have been far more happy if she had never seen Cash or Speaker again… and they had brought friends, how not lovely: “What do you want – there’s nothing to see here”

Cash gave the mercenary a disarming smile and tilted his head to the side a little: “Oh come now – we’re hunting the demon rapist and we heard the news. We need to examine the scene of the crime before the Sijaneese take the body away”

“You bounty-hunters now? Well tough cookie, I’m under orders not to let any pony back there while the monks do their thing” Ironmane grumped, amazing the circle with her display of all the fucks she did not give.

Flinging the mercenary a pouch of coin changed her tone in a heartbeat – the circle trotting the down the alley to find an unholy mess waiting for them... and five immaculate monks, one of them a wood-aspected unicorn.

“Damn mercs – you four, you shouldn’t be here – this place has been desecrated, we’re performing rites to cleanse it of demonic influence” one of the mortal monks said as the circle approached.

Sullen Hoof quickly stepped up as he sensed Shimmer tensing up: “We’re hunting the monster who did this – it’s important that we get to have a look around before the trail grows cold. You can still do your rites if you want to”

The monk looked at the four ponies in front of him, an old stallion in an equally old but clearly Lookshyan uniform, a westerner, a pony who looked far too well dressed walking around in alleys and what looked like their servant: “I… ok – but be quick about it – it’s just like the other victims if you’ve seen those…”

The alley between the two brothels that formed it opened up into a tiny back-alley courtyard where barely any sunlight was able to filter down between roofs and hung laundry. Heaps of trash and broken bits of furniture were strewn around the place, making the place for a tiny dump – it smelled accordingly. There certainly wasn’t room for nine ponies there – even three of the five monks were politely waiting in the alley, not the tiny not-really-a-courtyard. From the alley itself it was only clear that the walls at the end of the alley were awash with blood.

The circle decided the only Speaker and Shimmer should go down the alley – there wasn’t room for more – and between the two they had excellent tracking and investigative skills, so if anyone was to find clues or means to track the rapist it would be them.

The crime scene was the stuff of nightmares. The walls were coated as if a pony-sized balloon with blood had been popped – of course, Shimmer didn’t know what a balloon was, for she hadn’t seen the festive and colorful foal-toys that Lookshy occasionally brought out during festivals, since they knew the ancient first age manufacturing techniques for such strange things.

Upon seeing the victim – a young colt, barely a stallion, prostitute with a handsome face – Speaker ‘s first thought was death by large sledgehammer to the hips, but… the positioning of the corpse was all wrong.

Having witnessed heated battle between unicorns, especially unicorns armed with mighty artifact weapons of elemental jade, Speaker knew well of the horrible injuries that a pony could get from such weapons – and the similarities were hard to miss: The colt’s hips, abdomen and his chest and ribs had exploded outward from an inner force.

The closest thing Speaker ever seen to such a death was the remains of a mortal pony who had been flipped on his back and then struck – using a mighty jade grand goremaul – at the groin in the direction of the chest, which had subsequently compressed, gouged and forced everything inside out in the path of the massive battle-sledge. But this pony – what was left of him – had not been on his back, he’d been on all fours, most likely getting ready to ‘receive’ from client.

Shimmer looked more disgusted than intrigued – but then again she was trotting around sniffing at every puddle of blood and bodily fluid, for the santorum coated the ground in a thick slurry of shattered organ pulp, dirt, half-digested food, semen and shit.

The unicorn monk didn’t take much notice to the two apparent mortal ponies poking around at the crime scene – but at one point Shimmer discrete trotted over and whispered to Speaker: “I think he’s seen through my illusion – time to leave, I have enough of the rapist’s scent to track”

Indeed, the unicorn looked oddly shocked and surprised at the two as Shimmer quickly turned to leave – but Speaker couldn’t help but notice the trepidation and hesitation which marked the unicorn’s face… which made sense if the unicorn was frightened that Shimmer would do something drastic if called out as anathema for having those moonsilver tattoos
. Speaker did manage to notice one crucial element via his essence sight though: He spotted the same faint demonic essence signature as at the vault in Firewander – this was the same pony for sure.

The circle reuniting outside the alley – Cash and Sullen Hoof having waited at a tea house across the street – Shimmer led a merry chase through the undercity, the Nexus district, Nighthammer district, by which time the sun set and Shimmer found that she had lost the scent… but not due to her quarry having evaded her: “No it just stops… if it had been wafted away the scent would have faded – no it’s not just there anymore”

“Masking charms? Did he veil himself somehow?” Sullen Hoof wondered, looking around with his awareness enhancing charms to try to pick up the most minute of sound or shadow moving.

Taking a deep inhalation through her nose while turning around a few times, Shimmer sighed: “No – even the scent trail I’ve been following is gone… it’s like he was never here – that’s not natural. I’ve tracked other Lunars like this, including ones who were trying to cover their tracks and scent, but this… this is all kinds of wrong”

Cash looked around the alley they were and where they’d come from. The only other exit was out into a Nexus district street – it wasn’t even that long from where their town house was: “I think he lives somewhere around here”

“You’re suggesting we check our neighbors out to see if they’re suspects?” Speaker asked in an uncertain tone – they only had a scent which was now gone to track the rapist with, so it would be impossible to identify any pony.

Sullen Hoof raised a hoof as he peered out into the street: “yes and no, I think I can narrow who and what we’re looking a bit first”

Having used special charms to form a profile of the demon rapist Sullen Hoof felt that he had a very solid idea of the personality of the criminal: “Ok, every time this pony struck it was in an alley, out of sight – nobody ever hears anything, and he’s always long-gone before anyone comes across the remains. This tells me that each event is well planned and that he most likely cases his targets to find a streetwalker that doesn’t share alley-ways with others. Equally, the mess he leaves behind is a bold statement, one meant to really rub it in everyone’s face that he is really powerful – but at the same time it’s a cowardly act, since it’s clear from the remains that there’s no struggle, no fight. It’s domination from a pony who wants to feel mighty, but at the same time that pony is very careful not to get caught or even seen – It’s a stallion who wants to feel powerful, but is afraid to show it”

“And you got all that from a crime-scene you haven’t even really seen?” Cash said in a mix of apprehension and amazement. Sullen Hoof noted that he’d seen over half a dozen other crime scenes from the same pony – all were equally messy.

Shimmer nodded, agreeing that Sully’s conclusions made sense: “But what does this say about the pony? I mean, none of that really helps us to find him”

“Oh yes it does – we’re looking for a pony who is careful, meticulous and maintains proper social appearances – no pony ever sees him approach the victims, so he most likely has a social or professional life he wants to hide or protect from his activities” Sullen Hoof elaborated, pointing out that they were most likely looking for an unlikely suspect, a merchant or some other well off pony that had secretly gained these dark powers.

Speaker chimed in adding that in most of the gang violence victims he’d treated at the clinic the victims always knew who it was who had hurt them: “Any demonstration of might has to be showy– so word can spread that you’re not to be messed with. Basic para-military strategy. This looks far more random, like he’s just doing this for fun to terrorize everyone”

Sullen Hoof sighed: “There are brothels in Harlotry that offer punching-bag services, where you pay to beat up sex slaves – not very nice places, but they’re there if you want that kind of stuff. If that was all he wanted he could go there. This is different, but I can’t figure why”

Returning to the town house, Shimmer suggested that Sully mark on a map of the city where the demon rapist had struck. It was clear that she had hoped to find some kind of pattern in the killings, but between her experience with rogue spirits and changelings and Speaker’s first age memories of arcane demon sigils, then none of them matched even slightly. It genuinely appeared as if this monster was just stalking and killing ponies at random.

“Could we lay a trap?” Cash suggested, thinking that they could buy off most of Harlotry’s streetwalkers fairly easily – he even volunteered to keep them entertained while the rest of the circle dealt with the rapist.

Nodding, Speaker figured they could use an old Lookshyan tactic for countering enemy messengers during a siege: “Sure we can – but we can’t hide away all of Harlotry’s streetwalkers, they’re way too many and others would probably take their spots even if we pay the first ones to hide away somewhere. Why not just try to monitor the area we lost the trail in and look for the ones who often sneak away… Sully, how often does this pony strike?”

It turned out that the frequency of the demon rapist’s attacks had slowly been increasing in frequency. From what Sullen Hoof had heard then it had started as a once a month deal, but now it was twice a week – plus there were services they could use which would make their search in this way a lot easier: “Most of the merchants and other rich ponies in the area here flaunt what they do – they need to show their wealth to maintain their social status. We just look for the ones that disappear regularly without saying what they’re doing, Shimmer can follow their trail and see if their scent disappears when they change disguise – and then we’ll know who it is!”

The circle agreed that this plan sounded the most promising – although Cash was sad that it meant not having all the streetwalkers of Harlotry to play with.

“By the way, have any of you seen Red or Sunrise? I haven’t seen them for several days now” Sullen Hoof wondered.

Cash shrugged: “Last I saw Sunrise she asked for a fortune in silver to fund something she was trying to do – I’m sure she’s just trying to bring back that cult of hers or something. Red is probably still fighting in those Bastion tournaments and having fun there”

“Ok… but I think we’ll need Red once we find this akuma pony” Sullen Hoof noted.