A Bandit in Equestria: The Culling of the Herd

Some say that all life is sacred. Some say that what they are doing is because of the greater good. Those are good.

Some say that life doesn't matter. That the ends justify the means. That they will have their rule. Those are evil.

Then there are the insane. Those who blatantly spit in the face of the mundane and see with a freed mind to do whatever the hell they please. This is the tale of the most insane bandit this side of Faerun. Fruitcake Roddy.

Most people when given the diagnosis that they have gone blind cry, get angry, or something of that matter. Fruitcake Roddy simply shrugged and guzzled more of his homemade moonshine. For Fruitcake Roddy wasn't always a murdering psychopath who as often invited his guest to spot of hardened cider as he gutted them where they stood. He was once a powerful ranger, who tamed a mighty hellhound to be his companion till his dieing day.

Unfortunatley for the hellhound, he is an elf. Which means he will not die from old age.  Now Malar looks upon this insane, yet very predatory elf and thinks, What could I give him? He decides to send word to via his avatar to Roderick von Krieg of Faerun. He asked if he could have anything, what would it be. The answer was simple. A forest of his own. A place to practice the art of the still, and to revere the one he trusted from the beginning of his days as a ranger, Malar himself.

Malar was delighted to hear that this, but asked why he kept a very dangerous predator as his companions.

Fruitcake Roddy, Insane and blind, asked if he would like a drink and a seat, it would be a long story.

Malar was taken aback, but seeing as he was seen ,metaphorically, as a guest and not a god, decided to play along to learn more of this twisted psychopath who kills in his name.

Roderick grabbed two cups and asked if he would perfer wine, stout, or whiskey.

Malar said,"Whichever is the strongest, I feel especially like I need to loosen up."

He poured out some infamous Grape Lightning, his own special wine which make even the coldest Jotun feel a fire burning down their throat.

Malar drank it and felt a twinge of inebriation. Surprised a mortal could have a strong enough liquor to make him even the slightest bit tipsy was a great surprise. After drinking the whole tankard. He let out a huge sigh. It has been far to long since an offering was made even slightly that good.

Taking the sigh as a sign the guest has settled in, and for once feeling peace in his maddened mind, he begins by telling about how he met Quina, His hellhound.

50 years ago...

The hellhound pup stood growling at the monsters that dare took her mother away from her. Her ears pinned straight back, her snarl showing as much of her pearly whites as possible for a canine. The warrior, mage, and rogue were in it for the exp, so the mage began an incantation to banish the being.

He saw too late that a specially enchanted arrow was heading towards his chest. Breaking through his magical shielding and piercing his greedy heart, the group noticed an elf with an arrow nocked for the rogue's studded leather, it's mithril head shining it the thick forest.

"We mean no ha-" He was cut off by an arrow to the face.

"You meant plenty of harm to the poor hellhound, you broke a sacred law, and for that, you will die."

"You will die monster!" the warrior shouted and charged the hellhound hoping to dispell it's demonic influence on the ranger. There was no such influence.

The ranger moved with grace as he unsheathed an epee, and targeted at the poorly made warrior's charge.

With but a simple thrust and twist the warrior died.

He knelt in front of the little hellhound and held out his hand, The hellhound snarled and bit his hand, hard. Unfortunately she realized her jaws locked on this creature's non dominant hand. Panic showed through her eyes until she heard something in the abyssal tongue.

"Hmm? You are simply defending yourself, as any animal in the Nine Hells would."

He took a deep intake through his nose, and sighed.

"That was your mother, wasn't it?" he asked with genuine concern.

She was so shocked that she let go of his hand and the blood flowed freely.

He looked at the deep wound and grinned. He applied a salve and bandage to it, while not standing nor making himself intimidating.

"I will take care of you, With Malar as my witness, you will become a true huntress."

He then offered some cooked blood-sausage to the hellhound, who took one wiff of his homemade cooking and ate the whole ration.

"I think Quina, would be a good name for you. Come now Quina, We have a lot of training to do." he said, not skipping a word in the abyssal tongue.

Quina followed this savior and giver of food, perhaps they would both benefit from each other's training.

Malar was not the one for to ask for stories, but he knew few that would have stepped in to take care of a young hellhound after her mother was killed. He was impressed. Upon seeing the fully grown hellhound at his feet, glaring at the god. He realized he kept his promise.

Malar then got up and reached into the mind of Fruitcake Roddy, and saying this directly to his soul. "You have proven worthy in the eyes of Malar. You and you companion will be sent to a forest that you will be sovereign, for now sleep well Brother Guulvorg."

Quina and Roderick fell asleep instantly. Their destiny intertwined with a world unlike theirs.