The Heros Of Canterealm

by Scribblesheet The Scribe

Rating: mature
Tags: Dark, Alternate Universe, Romance, Drama, Adventure
Length: 10433

A story of the world before the Princess, Discord Sambra or even the windigos. The year is 4331 B.L.R. - Before Lunas Return.

The world was a very different place before the sisters were born. The utopia they created was non existent and the things we take for granted now were luxuries to all but the rich. In some ways I consider myself gifted to have lived so long and see all this because it's how I learned that there is always hope for things to get better even in the darkest days of Eques.

That said I've left many I've loved behind and seen much pain along the way. Is it worth it? I would say so. As to my age even Celestia is young to me but I digress. Even a Phoenix can only live so long and I'm reaching my twilight years. I think it's time that this story is told because if it isn't the sacrifices of those from that time I held dear will be forgotten and I would be remiss to see that happen.

-Philomena the Phoenix-

Dear reader. Please do bare with me on this fic. Following the plan this story will be at least 100,000 plus words so yes I'm in for the long haul. The story itself is essentially a giant head cannon of the world from before the very first Hearthswarmming eve something I've not seen done before. All I ask is that if you don't like it remember it's not finished and also say why. I can't get better without your help! :twilightsmile:

Shout out to co-lab partners sevenofeleven and Sir JbJonesV Who have done a great job helping with everything from moral to ideas that have made this story possible! :pinkiehappy:

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-08-15 19:21:43 UTC

Chapter 1: Foreverfree in the Golden Green

Phoenix Eye crept across the forest floor stomach pressed low with the green leafy shrubs masking her body from the eye's of the Maple Timberwolf before her. She kept her movements slow and quiet her breaths long and low, she had to be calm, poised and pick the perfect time to strike unless she wanted to have her legs torn off by the creature she was hunting. Staying calm was not hard for her she had killed Timberwolves before and she had other advantages besides her skill.

Her clothing was woven from vines and the inner strips of bark from Pine, Birch and Oak trees that grew in her home of Golden Green Forest. Her mane was dark brown akin to the color of wet soil and though her golden brown coat would otherwise have stood out she had smeared dirt into it so it would blend with the ground. Even her Cutie Mark had been covered it's image the Eye of a Phoenix within a flaming head. It not only showed her talent but even matched her namesake given to her at birth for her golden eye's reminiscent of the fiery bird she could bond with.

"It's almost time to strike. Sunshine goddess of the Summer land make my aim true and swift and let this beast I am about to slay pass well to the Summer lands and find peace."

She sprang from her cover quickly using her Unicorn magic to bring her Warhawk from her belt. Using the front bladed end in the shape of a Phoenix's head she swung at the creature's front leg and grappled it between the blade and handle. Quickly she pulled with strength tripping the creature making its jaw hit the ground. Now sure she had it's attention she bolted. Her mark had been hit and the chase was on.

Snarling the beast bolted after her charging through the green underbrush and leaping over the log she had jumped after her. Phoenix Eye Galloped weaving between rocks, trees and brush. She had to keep her pace or the Timberwolf would catch her. Leaping over a particularly large fallen tree she released a cry between a squawk and a whistling chirp. Within seconds Philomena Swooped from the branches and grabbed the wolf's tail in her talons giving a sharp tug much to the creatures annoyance.

Whistling cheekily the bird tore through the air after her Soul Sister. She had bought her precious seconds of distance while still keeping their prey on course. The hunt was going as planned. As the bird caught up with Phoenix Eye the mare gave a quick sharp smile at her Soul Sister they had good as done their part and the pony could see the clearing up ahead.

Using her Warhawk to part the branches between her and the open patch in the trees she lept over a large patch of ground landing halfway across the clearing. Seconds later the Timberwolf followed but did not jump instead one of his legs fell into one of the deep holes partly concealed by the grass and he tripped forward.

As the beast attempted to stand and pull its leg from the hole it gave a short yelp realizing it's paw was trapped being held in place by sharp wooden Oak stakes pointing downward within the side of the hole. Before it could think of a way out a short spear flew from a nearby bush and struck it's neck. With a brief whimper the creature collapsed Amber sap dripping from the wound.

The mare breathed heavily. She had just run through the woods and even though the chase had lasted no more than three minutes the speed she had to go had tired her out. Still she smiled, her part of the task was done now she could catch her breath. Glancing towards the shrubs on the edge of the clearing she saw them start to shake from movement. From within the bushes came two stallions one old and one young.

The older was a Unicorn like his daughter. He wore similar clothing to the mare covering his dark blue coat, his dark brown mane had grown a bit long and was partially covering his left eye grey and calm but capable of a piercing stare when their owner was angered. Slung across his back was a bow and quiver of arrows, on his side a Halberd but with a point made of a flint spear head rather than pointed steel or iron. Last his cutie mark a basket of foraged herbs.

The younger Stallion to his left did not bear the family resemblance of the other two. He had no horn or wings but a scruffy black beard and short mane matching the color. His coat was dark green and his Tail was trimmed short with eye's of light blue. The only thing he bore in common with his Clan mates was his garb made of the leaves, vines and bark. Across his back was a small bag with short spears similar to Jarrids matching the one sticking out of the wolves neck. This covered the side of his left flank hiding one of his marks a hoe tilling earth. Last aside from the dagger on his left was a steel sword held in a scabbard on his right side.

The younger one stepped toward the fallen beast bowing his head before it. Quietly in a voice only it's spirit could hear he spoke in his

adopted Clans tongue of the Spring goddess Beltine a language composed of the calls of all animals in the Golden Green each sentence ended with a click of the tongue as punctuation.

"Fallerious father of the Autumn winds that carries the souls of the dead. See that this beast has a swift and pleasant trip to your wife Sunshine who watches the Summerlands. He has passed so we may go on and let him know his sacrifice does not go unappreciated."

As he pulled the dagger from its sheath on his side the green gem in his wood carved circulate about his forehead glowed the dagger floating in a faint green light not as strong as a Unicorns spell but still sufficient for his task. Raising his blade he drove the tip into the dead creature's neck and with a quick jerking motion he cracked the wood. Amber resin began to flow from the beast but was caught in a clay jar held in a grey glow from the older stallion.

Still Slightly tired Phoenix Eye smiled. She had succeeded in her task and they would have enough of the resin for trade and medicine both after this kill. With the bird perched on her back she breathed out a quick sigh of relief before speaking again in the tongue of her forebears.

"That was a good throw Green Leaf. Quick and clean just as one should always make death."

The younger stallion looked up with a soft smile.

"He who causes suffering be it intentional or accidental must live with equal pain.” He quoted.

Glancing at her he continued.

“That is a burden I don't wish to bare. Still I could not have done my part without your training or your efforts just now."

"You were a fast learner and a willing pupil. Teaching is much easier when the student is competent."

There was a brief pause before the mare spoke again this time wearing a cheeky smile.

"Though with that said it would have been easier if you had a better grip on your temper when your patients failed."

The old Stallion to the young ones right gave a hard smile. Endearing but somewhat forced all the same. Phoenix Eye's happy smile turned grim.

"I wish you would speak at least once more father. I've not heard your voice for so many years I can't even remember it's tone!"

Her face returning to a neutral expression the mare looked to the sky visible through the gap in the canopy the clearing provided. The sun was getting close to the horizon. Assuming that Green Leaf could collect the sap swiftly they could use the remains to start a fire before dark. Her mind drifted to nights spent lying next to her father Fallen Oak by a campfire as he taught her the native language of their folk.

"Why could you speak long enough to teach me but not find the strength now? Mother was dear to you but if you had the strength then why not now?"

She let out a hard breath she hadn't known she was holding. Fallen Oak had been her only parent and other being in her life for many years aside from the fillies and colts she met when they went into towns to trade with the locals for things they couldn't forage for. For the longest time he had been the only one to teach her and he did but once he was done he had stopped speaking.

She was sixteen now a filly no more but a mare by her clan's standards. Seven years without hearing her own flesh and blood's voice and no change in that seen coming soon if ever. At least she had Green Leaf to talk to. Two years after her father had stopped talking they had found him Hiding in the woods. Once a Serf to one of the Unicorn nobles he had run away and avoided capture for a year and a day. As was law and custom he was now a Freecolt but his former master had thrown him off his land there after and he was without food, water or shelter.

Liberty was the virtue her clan was chosen to protect and guard by White Fall the God of winter and husband to Beltine. The vision that showed this had been assigned to them and passed down from priest to priestess of the old ways. The only way to become a Priest or Priestess of The old ways was to be chosen by the gods themselves. Fallen Oak had not received the dream but she had. Phoenix Eye the last Priestess of the last clan in the realm.

Since it was their duty to preserve liberty and this colt had lost everything in the name of it they took him in. Within a few months they were learning from each other. Phoenix taught him the clans tongue and ways while he helped her improve the modest understanding she had of the common tongue of Canterealm learned from her father’s meager knowledge of it. Within three years he was sworn into the Clan and had been the closest thing she had to a brother ever since.

She was pulled from her memories by the sound of Green Leaf clearing his throat. She had gone off into her own world as she was want to do again and he could tell. Smiling he spoke up.

"We should make camp here tonight. If you get the fire going I'll prepare our food while father gets the bed rolls ready."

Phoenix nodded and chirped to Philomena that she needed to get off her back. There was work to do before nightfall. She began to gather kindling, dried grass, leaves and twigs. When she was satisfied with the amount she began to take her Warhawk to dead trees and branches for bigger pieces of firewood. The remains of the Timber wolf would be used later. Glancing around the clearing she saw Fallen Oak rolling out the mats and Green Leaf pouring brook water into a clay cook pot with foraged plants.

"Dandelion root and wild Beet stew tonight then? Could be worse but what I wouldn't give for some Sugar Milk Mushrooms or roasted Parasprites."

A spot chosen for safety of the forest as well as convenience she began pulling up the grass to make a bare patch of soil to build a fire on. This done she placed the kindling then branches in it before producing a piece of flint and a steel horseshoe they had acquired last time they were at a village. five minutes of striking and a bit of effort later a small flame grow into a fire big enough to cook on.

Fallen Oak was already on his bedroll eye's closed but Phoenix couldn't tell if he was asleep yet. Gazing back into the fire she levitated a stick and pushed a log further into it with the other end. Sparks sizzled upwards towards the sky where the first stars were becoming visible. There were still a few clouds in the sky darker now with the lack of sun but on the horizon towards the north west where the Whitecap mountains were barely visible was a small bit of red, the last of the sun's rays. The mare found herself asking a question for no reason other than to give the answer she long ago decided to be true.

"If I could change the way I live would I? ...Not the slightest chance."

"Stews ready sister." came the voice of Green Leaf pushing a crude wooden bowl filled with the steaming contents towards her.

Taking the bowl in her hooves she sipped the broth testing it's temperature. She was surprised not only to find it cool enough to drink but better tasting then she had thought it would be. Taking a whiff of the stew she realized the Green Leaf must have added something to enhance the flavor.

"What did you put in this? It's better than usual!"

"I added the last bit of pepper I had left. We'll be trading again soon so I thought it safe to use the last tonight."

The mare smiled appreciatively before sipping from the bowl again. Between the spice in the stew and the warmth of the vegetable broth she felt her insides starting to relax and her mind grow closer to being ready to sleep. setting the bowl down she let out a yawn before looking over at her father still lying down on his bedroll.

"He's not feeling right again. I do wish sometimes I could see in his head if only to know what to say to help him."

Standing up she stepped over to her bedding grabbed her blanket and placed it on top of the ageing stallion. For a colt of fifty eight he was in good health physically. "It's his mind that troubles him. That and his heart." From his slow rhythmic breathing she could tell he was asleep leaning forward she placed a light kiss on his forehead. "Sleep well father and sweet dreams."

With that she stepped back over to her bowl and the fire adding a log with her magic as she passed by. She could spend one night without a blanket if it meant she could rest knowing her father would be that much warmer. Besides somepony had to keep the fire going to keep the beasts at bay.

Chapter 2: Blue Stones of the Pictony

The rising and falling of the waves moved the Cog up and down as it sailed towards Canterealm. Within its hold was a rather perturbed Connemara pony sitting on a wooden stool in front of an old slightly wobbly table. Before him was one of the most unappetizing meals he had seen in his life. It had been this or Hard Tack for the majority of his trip from Gaullop.

For the first week the fair had been acceptable but once the fresh vegetables were gone they had served nothing but easily preserved staples. Pickled eggs, Hard Tack, Grog and salted lettuce strips were the most common. Before him was a small tankard with cheap ale and a wooden plate with dried and salted Codfish. Unfortunately this was the most appetizing meal he'd been served in at least five days.

Sighing he resigned himself to his meal and took a bite chasing it with the ale so the taste wouldn't stick to his tongue. While fish was not a common staple inland many of the ponies living on the coast or near large lakes had taken to eating it. The trip from Gaullop had so far taken two months to navigate. Assuming he returned home it would be three weeks at least back. The ale was bitter and unpleasant, Slightly sour from the added lemon the fish more salt than food.

"a oedd yn ofnadwy!" He choked out.

Walking over to a nearby porthole he chucked the fish out into the water in disgust. The dried plank of food hit the water with a 'Splunk' sound as he closed the window and sat down to finish the bitter but stomach able ale. "If I have to eat one more piece of fish or Hard Tack this week I can't be held responsible for what I'll do to that Galley cook!" he stuck his tongue out and spat on the table.

"What I would give for some of Rosemary Spices honey oat bread and a wedge of cheese right now!"

Reaching into the breast pocket of his plad Tartan of dark blue and forest green he withdrew a small rolled and bound cloth made of similar fabric with the image of a bundle of Rosemary the plant his wife to be was named after back in Gaulop stitched into it. Undoing the strings binding it together he unrolled it revealing a lock of honey colored hair braided together. "When I come home love I'll make you an honest mare I promise" he rolled the hair braid back into the cloth and placed it back in his left breast pocket.

Sighing heavily he reached out his hoof and grabbed his sword and Dirk belt slinging it across his side on top of the tartan covering his light grey coat. Fastening the buckle about his chest he placed his plad cap atop his long unruly mane of ginger hair leaving his Burda club leaning against the corner of the wall. Making his way out the door and through the hold towards the bow of the ship he could hear the waves of the sea rolling.

"Fresh air will do me good...even if it's riddled with sea salt."

Trotting up the stairs he lifted the hatch part way and peered about the deck. The cabin Colt could be seen leaving the captain’s cabin carrying a metal tray with an empty plate and tankard on it clenched between his teeth.

“Lad can’t be past ten years old at most. Poor child.”

A common enough practice among sailors was to take in young orphans as cabin boys. A starving child would work hard if it meant he had a bed roll and a piece of bread at the end of the day. Sadly this poor colt likely would be going to the crew’s quarters for a meal similar to what his was. Maybe even worse.

“I Shudder to think of it!”

Flipping the hatch over to the side he made his way topside squinting slightly as his green eyes adjusted to the light of the setting sun. Sea and salt water as far as his gaze would go. No sign of land for likely another few days. Longer if they got caught in the doldrums. He approached the railing and placed his forehooves on it gazing across the water.

“How is it I’m the son of a fishercolt but have no stomach for the sea? Makes no sense by any accounts. The old bastard practically bled salt water. Then again mother always hated his line of work.”

He could practically hear the deceased Coltic mare chiding him at that moment.

“Don’t you go being a fishercolt on some leaky old boat! It’s bad enough your drunkard father spends his days out there though the gods knows I love him! I don’t need to be worried every gale that comes about for you too! You need to stay here and be a farmer or the like so you can take care of me when my bones get all creaky. Everypony in Albion knows your Troublesome brother won’t.”

Little Innocent was possibly the most troublesome, dirty, cheeky, nuisance ever to be given such a deceiving name. Whether his name spawned his bad behavior or he just liked to cause trouble his parents could never tell but oh how Blue Stones had looked up to him, wanted to be just like him and make him proud.

The amount of trouble the two got into in their village was rivaled only by their ability to come up with their next misdeed. One minute they would be attempting to sew a chicken into their uncles pillow case the next trying to figure out how they could get away with breaking some plates when said chicken got loose in the process.

No matter how much trouble they got in though Little Innocent always took half the blame as their blood pact said to. If one went down in flames the other caught fire as well. Figuratively speaking of course...except that time they had tried their hooves at blacksmithing and set fire to the neighbor’s Chicken coop.

“Mother if you could see me now you’d be terrified but I hope you’d be proud too. Like the clans Druid always said Yn byw yn dda i farw yn dda and if his words are true I can go to Albion with a smile on my muzzle.”

In his Heart Blue Stones knew his cause was a lost one but like his father once said.

“Sometimes you fight because it’s the right thing to do even when you're sure to lose. It’s better to know you tried then fail because ye did nothing.”

Turning his gaze west he watched as the sun dropped lower and lower towards the horizon. It’s light shimmered across the water and waves highlighting them in an aqua green. Back to the west was Gaullop his home and place of birth. He hadn’t even finished the first leg of his journey yet and he was homesick.

He closed his eyes envisioning the green hills and great standing stones. Small stone homes with straw thatched roofs and fences keeping the sheep from wandering made by weaving sticks and twigs. The sacred trees of oak and Yew stood tall and proud and in the distance were the highlands capped with snow at their peaks rivers running from top to bottom keeping their crops well supplied with fresh water.

“If I want to see my home free from those red cloaked Lupus Legates and their damned Caesar I’ll have to do my part. No matter how much I want to go home it will do no good if there's no home left to go back to. The green Lands will be free again and if I can help make it happen then I will do it.”

Focusing his mind on the Agate embedded in his frontal skull he pulled his sword from the sheath on his side holding its handle in a brown glow like that of the stone in his forehead and the pommel of his weapon. The blade was three feet long made of Coltic Iron and passed down his family since the time when the earth pony fugitives had left Canterealm 300 years ago to be free of the monarchy.

“It seems our lot in life to strive for freedom only to have it snatched out of our reach.”

Sighing he turned around to see the young Colt from earlier looking at him with an interested but slightly scared gaze. Sheathing his blade he flashed a smile at the colt before sitting in front of him and speaking in a calm, deep but thickly accented voice.

“How old are you Laddie?”

“I’m-m-m nin-n-ne sire.” The colt stuttered out.

“Be at ease child if I were upset you’d know it. Tell me what is your name?”

The colt noticeably calmed down a bit seeming to realize that the stallion before him was not upset at him for staring. The Coltic ponies scarcely went to Canterealm but there was no mistaking one of them. Tales of the head hunting Gaullope barbarians spread far and wide across the seas and lands but this stallion was not so terrifying as he seemed.

“My name is Piper Stock but everypony calls me runt except the cook.”

“What does the cook call you?”

“Pippy, sometimes when we’re in port he’ll pick up a scone or cinnamon bun and split it with me.”

“He looks after you then?”

“Not just me sire. This ship would fall apart without him. Whenever there’s a fight or scuffle he sorts it out and when we’re in port he gets some of the fresher food at market and makes us a proper meal before we set out again!”

“Tell me lad what's your favorite dish of his?”

“His vegetable pasties! Everypony on board loves em’.”

At the thought of real food Blue’s mouth began to water. Swallowing he pushed the image of a steaming vegetable pastie away so as not to drive himself mad. In his mind if he never had to taste salt again it would be far too soon. Looking back at the colt in front of him he stood back up and stretched.

“Sire?”

“Yes child?”

“Can-can I have a look at your sword?”

The stallion chuckled pulling the weapon out of it’s sheath for the colt to see.

“Carefull of the edge it is sharp enough to cut bone.”

The young child ran a hoof over the flat of the blade feeling the cold iron of the lethal weapon.

“Someday I will be off of this ship. I’m going to be a Page to a warrior like you!”

“I doubt it not. You have the bearing and demeanor of a brave one.”

“Really?”

“I’ve trained warriors I know a colt with heart when I see one.”

The Stallion smiled at the younger one before placing the tip of his blade on the wooden deck of the ship.

“I suppose I should let you get on with your work young lad. The sooner you’re done the sooner you can get some rest.”

“Yes sire.”

As the colt turned to go he took a few steps before turning about and speaking.

“Sire?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for speaking with me.”

“You're welcome child.”

With that the young colt trotted off and went down to the hold leaving the Connemara stallion alone on the deck save the helmspony and navigator. He smiled turning back to the sea lifting his sword again tilting it back and forth in the now present moonlight. The light shone across the blade so polished was the metal that he could even see the moon’s reflection in it.

He slid it back in his scabbard before turning towards the hatch to go to his own bed thinking on the chat he had with the young child. He smiled.

“Maybe some day me and Rosemary will have a little colt like that. I certainly hope so.”

As his hooves clopped down the stairs and back towards the bunk he’d rented out for the voyage he could hear some of the sailors singing in the Galley room. Their deep voiced chorus could be heard throughout the hull.

“What shall’e do with the drunkin sailor, what shall’e do with the drunken sailor oh what shall’e do with the drunken sailor ear-ly in da mornin?”

“Shave ‘em belly witha rusty razzer, shave ‘em belly witha rusty razzer, shave ‘em belly witha rusty razzer earl-y in da mornin!”

“What shall’e do witha drunkin sailor, what shall’e do witha drunkin sailor, what shall’e do witha drunkin sailer ear-ly in ‘da mornin?”

“Put ‘em in da bunk witha captin’s filly, put ‘em in da bunk witha captin’s filly, put ‘em in da bunk witha captin’s filly ear-ly in da mornin!”

“What shall’e do with the drunkin sailor, what shall’e do with the drunken sailor oh what shall’e do with the drunken sailor ear-ly in da mornin?”

“Tie ‘em ’ta the mast without ‘is trousers, tie ‘em ‘ta the mast without ‘is trousers, tie ‘em ‘ta the mast without ‘is trousers ear-ly in da mornin!”

With their chorus of loud drunken singing finished for the moment Blue Stones pushed aside the tarp separating his room from the rest of the ship. Pulling out a stool he produced a sheet of parchment and a quill from his saddlebags in the corner.

He unrolled the thin paper on the table and placed down the quill before grabbing the inkwell in the bags and pulling the cork from its stopper with his teeth. His quill now dipped in black ink he leaned over the table and began writing occasionally dipping the quill back into the ink. He wrote this letter in Ogham the ancestral letters and numerals of his ancestors from his home across the sea.

Seventh moon the twenty fourth day, year three hundred and twelve by Gaulop reckoning.”

My dearest Rosemary,

I write to you now from a Cog sailing east to the country of Canterealm the land our forefathers sailed from some three hundred twelve years ago to seek a free world that to this day and age still escapes us. Believe me I wish nothing more than to see your beautiful face right now and spend my days tilling the soil and sowing oats in the fields left to me by my uncle.

I know my absence troubles you as it does me. I’d much rather spend my days by your side watching you rock back in fourth in grandma Spindles rocking chair knitting blankets for a child soon to join us in our family that is yet to be made in the eye’s of the gods in Albion.

I would see these things happen and myself never leave your side but I cannot think to bring a son or daughter into a land occupied by creatures so foul as the Lupus hounds who oppress and enslave our folk. If I am to raise a family in my homeland I would have it be a free world where they would not know the whip of a Legionnaire on their backs but instead the soil beneath their hooves of a free land where they could know happiness never ending.

I would promise you that I would return home from the quest I’ve undertaken for the Pictony Freedom Fighters but we both know this to be a guarantee I may not be able to make. I have never lied to you nor do I intend ever to do so as every time I see you saddened it tears my soul.

I will write you every chance I get and pray to the Earth Mother Enaid Pridd and my fallen family in Albion that you will be able to send letters back from time to time but I know they will be few and far between. Never doubt that I love you my dear, you are my whole heart and without you in my life it would have no value to me.

Every sunset I see reminds me of the way back to your embrace and each sunrise reminds me that I am a day closer to seeing you again. I carry the golden lock you gave me at all times in my left pocket so that I may have you close to my heart. I love you I cannot say it enough but I love my homeland as well and so I would fight that it have the freedom your love has given me.

Every day I remember what Little Innocent would say about the land we call home and I would see his words become true. Even If I cannot make it happen in my lifetime I would do my part to know I tried. The light grows dim in my cabin now so I must bring this letter to a close as my candle is nearly spent.

If my quest should be a success when I return it will be to make you my wife. Ive fought for these ten years and I wish to spend my twilight ones with you. I will write again soon my heart and send it to you with all haste.

With love in my heart

Blue stones

The letter finished he folded it properly before pouring a bit of wax on it for a seal pressing the sole of his horseshoe on it leaving his family’s crest in the wax. With that he blew out the candle and made his way to his hammock. He had a few days left before he arrived in Canterealm and he would need his rest and strength if he was to succeed in his quest.

Chapter 3: Like A Theif In The Night

Horseshoe Port was a city where one couldn’t take a walk about the town without seeing obvious signs of poverty and strife. There were sick in the streets clothed in muddy tunics, beggars and murders were not uncommon by any means. Of course this was only in the lower town. If you lived in the merchant district or higher you could at least make your way through the streets and only have to deal with one or two beggars a day.

The second largest port town in all of Canterealm it was a hotspot for many who came to seek their fortunes. Only one of two things could happen, you’d become rich or you’d be ruined there was no in between. If you made a bad investment in shipping you could lose everything if you made a good one you could find yourself wealthy with Spices and teas from the Gryphon lands across the sea to the far west.

Pirates would often loot trade ships out at sea to the south then come up here from the north to spend and trade their ill gotten gains on Mare’s, Wine and song. In short the lower town was a filthy cesspit of corruption and sorrow while the upper town was the high life for those who could afford it.

With the amount of starving peasants in the city one would think that theft would be a common trade among the desperate but this was not so. In Horseshoe port you had two choices as a thief. Be Damn good or hang by your neck in the harbor or market as a warning. Some pirates joined the petty thieves in the gallows but there were far more hungry bread thieves swinging than there were sea rats.

The reason was simple. Many of the pirates that came here were protected by the wealthy and powerful corrupt and for important reason. If one needs their competition in the trade market to...go away than you need to relieve them of their assets to bankrupt them. When you know this the reason for Pirates walking free in the town becomes rather clear rather quickly.

It was in one tavern of exceptional Ill repute that a pony mare in tatty black clothes and cloak, green eyes, teal coat and blond mane found herself drinking a cheap wine with a piece of stale bread and a wedge of cheese. Concealed beneath her cloak she kept a dagger with an Onix pommel matching the black stone embedded in the front of her skull beneath a small unusable horn.

On her back equally as useless were a pair of stubby wings though a mare of twenty one her wings looked better on a Pegasus foal than her. The common term for her  misfortune was Sickguin or sick blood. A horn but no magic, wings but no flight. Ponies like her were seen by many as the puss of society. It was better to pretend to be a useless Unicorn than what she was and so that’s what she did.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see a rowdy and clearly drunk stallion talking with two of his fellow marauders. They were glancing in her direction occasionally, disturbing smiles on their faces.

“Bloody pirate scum! If they think me a harlot they will wish they hadn’t come to this tavern!”

As she had suspected one of them made his way over towards her taking a seat on the dirty pillow across from her at the table. With a semi toothy smile he leaned forward on one of his forelegs and spoke to her.

“How much would It cost for a stallion to spend a night with you?”

“I’m not interested.”

“I’m being polite now why not take me up on my offer before I act otherwise?”

“If you think you scare me you're sadly mistaken. You’ve been sitting here less than a minute and you’ve already proven you haven't the brains Solaris gave a beetle.”

The stallion prepared to strike at her but found himself stopped by a knife at his throat. He had failed to notice that the mare in front of him had activated her Dueling Crystal and snuck a knife under the table to his his gut in anticipation that he would get violent. Swallowing he felt the dagger press against his throat a little harder. The other two stallions stood up making their way towards her swords sliding from their sheaths.

Out the side of her eye the mare saw the gems in their circulets light up and a glow appear around their sword handles. She knew now a fight was inevitable. In a quick motion she dragged her blade across the neck of her hostage splattering the wall with the sanguine liquid from his veins. Their comrade dead the remaining two pirates pulled out their swords and ran at her.

The cloaked mare flung the dagger at the nearest attacker and before he could react it buried itself in his left breast. Flipping over her table landing in front of her stab victim she kicked his front legs out from under him pulling the dagger out of his chest with her Dueling Crystal’s enchantment and drove it into the back of his neck for good measure. “If he looks dead do it double.”

Pulling the bloody blade out of the dead pirates neck she swung it across the chest of the remaining stallion who had been startled backwards leaving a deep gash in his chest then bringing it back she drove it into his side before finishing the job by flipping him onto his back with a kick and stabbing through his throat till the knife hit the planks below.

The astonished and terrified bar patrons ran out screaming and hollering while the mare simply cut a piece of clothing off one of her victims to wipe the blood off her blade so it shined again.

“Bloody Tartarus Emerald look what ye done this time! Ye know how long it’s gonna take to get the blood stains out of the hardwood?”

“Leave them in it adds to the rustic feel of the place, makes it feel...Lived in”

“Solaris dammit girl you know how hard this is gonna be to explain to the guard? I’m gonna hafta rack me brain on this one to keep up our deal! Sometimes I think you're more trouble than yer worth!”

“We both know that’s not true. How else could a tavern keeper have such a fat purse of Bits? You’d be in the stocks for not paying your taxes if it wasn’t for me.”

Emerald had long ago learned that everypony had a pressure point that she could use against them. This ponies was his greed.

“I’ve always hated Tamaters even when they weren’t rotten.”

“Well you’ll be eating them night and day if you sack me.”

“Fine I get the bloody point! But they find out the truth and there’ll be the Cerberus to pay!”

“Than they can’t find out.”

“ Ah shit.”

/l---)O(---/l\

An hour later saw Emerald Gaze sitting in her room in the tavern’s attic. A quill clenched in her teeth she scribbled it’s tip across the parchment. The novel she was writing had been the focus of her effort for the past year and writer's block had been a horrid hindrance. On the front cover of the book was her suitonyme Raven Quill a writer of some renown but not enough to keep her fed. She didn’t write because it was profitable she wrote because it was the only way she could escape from her own life.

Crime was what paid her way a writer could scribble from here till the end of time and still die a pauper but a skilled thief at least had some breathing room and she was the best thief in the port. Her arrangement with Tankard Chucker who owned the tavern she lived in at the moment meant she always had an alibi when the guards came knocking. In return she split her theft profits with him and got room and board.

She spat the quill out of her mouth and licked her lips before looking out the window. It was pouring rain today and lightning could be seen out towards the sea. The winds howled with enough force she was sure that any birds in the area had hunkered down for the night. A shame that likely meant no birdsong in the morning.

Resting her head on the table she gazed out the window with a bored expression. No thieving tonight the weather would make it hard to scale the buildings and that meant getting in would be difficult. Too hard to be worth the effort at least. Besides everypony would likely be sleeping lightly waking every few hours from a lightning strike.

A house with awake residents was a house hard to rob. She picked up the quill again in her teeth and continued to write in the books blank pages. It was going to be a long night at this rate. Her focus was disturbed rather suddenly by her door being kicked in and two guards and their lieutenant forcing their way into her room Halberds pointed at her.

Instinctively she reached for her dagger but quickly found herself in pain when the guard Lieutenant shot her with a beam from his horn knocking her to the floor. When she opened her eye’s she could see the tavern keeper in the doorway a devilish smile on his face. Nopony had to look any further than his fat coin purse to see why. One of the guards snapped a pair of shackles around her fetlocks before snatching the dagger off the floor and placing a no use charm on it’s gem pomel. The stallion who sold her out gave a loud chuckle.

“What? Ye honestly think I would risk my neck for a Sickguin? Ha! I’d sooner take an arrow for a serf! Yer more trouble than yer worth lass I’d say I’m sorry but I honestly ain't. I can’t believe you were dumb enough to trust me!”

“Trust you! Don’t flatter yourself! I knew you were slicker than a snake in oil but I over estimated your Intelligence! Believe me I had no Idea it was possible for somepony to be as stupid as you are!”

“Yer the one going to the Gallows you little shit!”

“You’ve been hiding a fugitive of the law for bribes! You honestly think your not going to join me?”

Having finished her sentence and wiping the smile from the tavern keeper's face a click could be heard as shackles were placed around the forehooves of the stallion. The sinking feeling in his chest grew even stronger when he saw his Bit purse being levitated out of his reach.

“Oi we had a deal!”

“She was right sad to say. You really are as dumb as you look. It appears the Hangcolt will be getting eight Horseshoes instead of four but don’t worry mister Tankard we’ll see to it you're given your last rights. Seize the mares book over there I want it for evidence. Who knows It could help us convict her of further crimes.”

“I’d sooner go to Tartarus than let you touch that book!”

Lunging forward the thief threw her chained whooves around the neck of the stallion who had shackled her. He was no hostage his neck was snapped in seconds. Grabbing her dagger in her teeth from the corpse in her grasp she made for the window where her book lay. The remaining guard thrust at her with his Halberd but she heaved the body in the way letting the corpse take the blow.

Thanks to the power of his thrust and a little bit of luck her shackles chains broke when the Halberd struck them as the weapon dug into the dead body. Once the spear end was in the dead stallions body deep enough she threw the body to the side of the floor and grabbed her knife off the corpse with her teeth. The body landed on the floor with a thud pulling the weapon out of the guards grasp with it. Before the Lieutenant could go for the attack she swung her head towards the window spitting out the dagger in the process.

The glass shattered and in the blink of an eye she was out the window her novel in progress tucked under her cloak. Now on the clay tile roof of the tavern she bolted across the thieves highway. She was without her climbing shoes so she had to be careful with her steps. As she had suspected guards that had been watching the exits began yelling commands in surprise as they saw her scamper across the roof.

She couldn’t get caught this was her one and only chance at escape. If they caught her again there would be no Gallows this time. She had killed a guard that was a kill on sight sentence. Should she be caught she’d be dead without trial even if it would have been fixed from the beginning

“Stop chasing her and fire your crossbows! She murdered a guard kill her! Hollered the Lieutenant out the broken window.

“I have no blade, no coin and I’m a fugitive in the heart of a city that has walls guarded in and out! The gods must hate my guts with the passion of a vengeful lover!”

Leaping from rooftop to rooftop she chanced a glance behind her towards the ground. She was outrunning them but they were preparing to fire their crossbows. If she didn’t lose them fast she was going to be plucked off the roof by a bolt.

Making an adrenaline based decision she jumped off the roof she was on to the ground doing her best to take the fall with the grace she could muster. When her front hooves hit the ground she rolled to the side going with the impact to lose as much energy from the fall as possible before coming to a stop.

In the end where she stopped was decided for her when her side slammed into the wall of a building. Normally an impact like that would have put a pony out of commission but her blood was pumping with chemicals and her mind was being run by instinct. She couldn’t process pain now but she surely would later.

With wind Howling and rain pouring she galoped down the cobblestone streets looking for a place to hide. If she could lose the guards than she had a chance of escaping with the storm to help her remain hidden. They were still giving chase but they had split up not knowing which street she had taken after jumping. She had the advantage for the moment.

Taking turns at streets and alleyways she soon heard the voices and yells of her pursuers grow fainter until the storm was all she could hear. After taking several more turns for good measure she found herself near the local bathhouse of the upper district. A plan in mind as she crept into the building and much to her delight made it to the changing room.

“Even though I steal for a living I feel like an ass for making somepony walk home in this weather naked. Still I’d rather get out of this city without being in a burlap sack bound for the bone orchard.”

Finding a merchant ladies tunic of the proper size she quickly donned it and gave herself a quick glance. “Draws too much attention I look too important.” As fast as she could seeing as how the tunics owner might leave the bath at any moment she began ripping the blue cloth till it was rather tattered then proceeded to smear water and grime from her old clothes onto them. Even taking care to conceal the broken shackles on her hooves with torn fabric.

Last she hid her old clothing in the bottom of a dustbin as well as using some of it’s foul contents such as rotten tomatoes and apples to make herself smell bad. The less ponies wanted to be in her personal space and the poorer off she looked the less likely she was to be Identified as anything more than a common beggar.

Satisfied with her wretched smell and worse off appearance she made a break for the doors and back out into the rain. She had to disappear yet again from yet another town and find somewhere else to rob blind in hopes that one day she could finally find somewhere she was able to stay for good.

“I’m so sick of running! Why can I never just walk? Why can I never be left alone and content for just once in my life! Mother Why did you have to save me from my fall off the casting cloud? I’m a failure as a Pegasus and a failure in life! You should have let me fall!”

There were so many things Bitter Thyme had lost count of in her life on the run. How many fake names she had used, How many ponies she’d robbed, How many times she’d found herself wanting to do away with her life but lacking the determination to do so, How many times she had wept for the loss of her mother.

But out of all the things Bitter Thyme had lost track of there was one thing she always remembered. How many days she had spent in exile waiting for a chance to get revenge that her mother’s soul could be at peace. Today was another one gone by...Day four thousand and twenty four.

As the mare kept running through the streets towards the gate she felt water in her eyes. Salt water not the water from the sky. Her mother was the only pony to ever show her kindness and she had paid for it by drinking Hemlock.“I’m going to avenge her even if it takes from now till the end of time!”

Prologue: The seas will run red

“You summoned me father?”

“You will address me properly in front of guests!”

“You summoned me Sire!”

“What delayed you Harrythar? I summoned you ten minutes ago!”

“I am sorry but-”

“Don’t give me excuses! Your lucky I spare you the flat of my blade! Best you remember this mercy next time I ask something of you!”

“Yes Sire.”

The old Bluetooth sat back in his throne pouring more mead into his goblet. Harrythar took his place behind the King Harland Hadrada and glanced down the longhouse table to the guest before them.

“This is Lupus Et Sanguinis Libidinem a noble of the Lupus Empire here on a diplomatic mission to see me.”

“Sire?”

“He comes with a proposition for me and our kind.”

The bulky bearfolk brought the goblet to his mouth and drank greedily belching upon consuming the liquid. Glancing casually to his right at his flesh and blood he continued.

“He wishes to hire some of our warriors for their campaign in Gaulope. He offers two hundred Silver Chippens for each mercenary and two fifths of all battle spoils. What do you think of this proposition?”

“I think two hundred and fifty Chippens each and half of the battle spoils more acceptable.”

With a sharp fanged grin the Bluetooth king glanced down the table to the foreign diplomat. The Wolf from the southwest Empire seemed calm and collected. His eyes were cold those of a soldier who had years of practice killing and likely enjoyed it too. Harrythar prided himself on his ability to measure an individual with a glance and this one was clearly a soldier first and diplomat second. As the Lupus agent was about to speak Harland cut him off with his own words.

“The prince is many things but not as dumb as you seem to think nor am I. With the wealth of your Caesar and the skill of my Bearserkers you know I will not make a deal with you for so meager a sum of silver. The fact you think I would puts me in a killing mood.”

Cold, calculated, all the words from the king were said with the tact of a battering ram. One did not insult the king of the Bluetooths and get off lightly...unless they were very careful with what their next words were.

Leaning back in his chair and tossing his crimson cloak over his shoulder the Lupus reached into a bag on his side and produced a quill, ink bottle and a piece of parchment. Dipping the quill in ink he began writing with quick skilled strokes. When finished he snapped his claws summoning one of his servants pawing over the rolled paper and gesturing for it to be handed to Harland.

The servant did as ordered placing the scroll in front of the king who took it in his massive paws. Unrolling it his eyes raised subtly at the new figures drawn up on the paper for the contract. Speaking in a voice reminding the prince of a sweet wine the Diamond Wolf leaned back into his chair again.

“My Caesar has instructed me to be compliant with you to an extent that I see fit. These figures are more than acceptable hmm?” He paused. “As one warrior to another I think you are more valuable as allies than enemies to my pack so this time I will be more lenient. Do not expect my good temper to hold out should you see fit to insult me.”

Pulling a dagger from his belt the king cut a line down his paw cupping it to hold the blood now seeping from the wound. With his right paw he dipped one of his claws into the sanguin liquid and scribbled down his name on the line indicated.

“You shall have your two hundred and fifty axebearers three hundred spearbearers and fifty Huscarls within the week ready to accompany you on your campaign against the Gaullopes. I think this may be the beginning of a grand relationship between the Imperium canibus and Bluetooths of Kopengoran.”

“My liege will be pleased to hear so. I will take my leave so I may begin to write him of these...beneficial negotiations.”

The moment the doors were closed and the Ambassador out of earshot the king spoke.

“The worm thinks he’s so far above us we seem like mice to him. When he sees the ferocity of our warriors he will no doubt think different of our army. I give him six months before his Caesar sends him back here to hire more mercenaries. Always remember Harrythar there is blood in money and money in blood.”

Seven Years Later

Harrythar stood at the bow of his longboat listening to the roar of the waves as he neared his homeland. Within the hull of his ship were a number of treasures taken in taxes from the lands they earned in the Gaullope campaign one year ago. The war had lasted only five years the loot and pay had only increased his father's popularity with the nobles of his court and as he had said those years ago within the year the contract had become even more favorable when their warriors proved themselves. The Bluetooth prince turned to face his crew rowing the longboat through the sea to their home his paw on his blade clutching it tightly.

“No doubt this will still not be enough for the king to be satisfied. He is war hungry and I know he has eyes on the eastern lands wealth of jewels and gold. I have no qualms of war but I don’t like his tactics he risks overstepping our abilities and leaving us vulnerable to the Lupus. He thinks he has them about his thumb but I do not agree.”

“Stroke you worthless gut rats! I want to be back in my bed within the week!”

The Oarsbears picked up the pace as their prince demanded they knew all too well that tone of voice meant the prince was put out and they did not want to feel his whip. He had been molded by the king and was ruthless when angered. He had become much like his father before him though to say they were one in the same would not be true. Before Harrythar could issue further orders a lookout called from the main mast.

“Sire! There’s a ship to the east! Looks like a Gryphon trade Gally!”

Harrythar turned his gaze to the east placing his paw on his brow to ward off the sun. Sure enough there was a merchant vessel likely bringing spices and teas to Canterealm to trade for the gold the gryphons loved so much.

“The king would be pleased with extra goods to go along with his taxes and they’re there for the taking!”

“Ho east lads and ready your swords! There’s a place at the feasting table for those who fall and gold in the future of those who live!”

Roars and war cries went up as the Bluetooths began biting their shields and banging their swords and axes against them. The oars churned faster in the water as they turned towards their target. They had wind in their sails and the speed of their labors the Gryphons would not and could not escape.

Regardless they did try to flee but when they realized escape was futile Harrythar could see them preparing to be boarded. Swinging his grappling hook around his head the Prince howled loudly sending it flying onto the enemy ships decks. The gryphons fired crossbows killing two of the raging Bears but many of the wounded warriors simply yelled louder ripping the bolts from their hides. Climbing up ropes or just jumping on board the Bluetooths set about their bloody work. The screeches and howls of pain and death filled the decks of the ship as axes were swung and swords clashed. This was what they lived for. The glory and bloodlust of battle, pain and war.

Harrythar charged at one of the Gryphons like a boulder rolling from a cliff the impact sending the hybrid creature to the deck. Before he could attempt to defend himself the Prince thrust his blade into the left eye socket of his victim and ripped the weapon to the side out of the skull. Blood and grey matter splattered the deck and in his adrenalin rush the Prince howled in delight.

A sudden pain interrupted his cry of triumph as one of the enemy crew cut a dagger across his leg. Whirling on his attacker the great bear lashed out with his claws at the Gryphons throat grabbing it and bring his neck to his jaws. Grappling him he tore out the helpless sailors jugulars swallowing the raw flesh in his mouth blood, feathers and all before throwing the body off the ship.

“None of these birds are a worthy foe! They are only fit to be food!”

Then his gaze was drawn to the ship's captain who had successfully slain one of the raging creatures. Their eyes met and a mutual challenge was made. Jumping over the railing of the ship's helm the large Gryphon slashed out with his Scimitar the blade striking against his opponents as sparks flew from the contact. With the dagger in his left claw he slashed again only to be punched in the gut in return.

Bringing his Iron longsword around his head and down towards his victim Harrythar smiled with the love of battle but was surprised to see the enemy captain block his heavy attack with his dagger braced against the back of his Scimitar staggered but not dead. The bear recoiled and thrust with the point at his foe who dodged it by rolling to the side from the deck he lay on.

Preparing to swing again the prince pulled back but found his weapon stuck in the hardwood of the ship. Realizing his chance the Gryphon swung at him striking the bear in the arm giving a modest cut into his flesh. Enraged Harrythar roared and grabbed a Dane axe from the deck dropped by a fallen comrade swinging it madly back and forth up and down.

The captain dodged the first swing but the backlash caught him in the side. Now bleeding and clutching his side the bear didn’t even give him long enough to look up before cleaving his skull in two.

Blood splattered the deck and the warriors face like paint and he ran his tongue over his teeth and lips to taste it. By now there were only a few surviving crew left of the Gryphons the last one willing to fight dropped his weapon when he was stabbed in the side of his gut by a spear before having it driven into his chest twice more.

The battle was over the plunder of the ship was theirs. The dead totaled up to seven for them and twenty one for the Gryphons. The five survivors were shackled to the hull of their own ship to be sold later as slaves and the spices and teas counted. Some of the crew stayed aboard to take their prize home to the king in Kopengoran. As for the dead fresh meat was hard to find at sea.

Victory was theirs and they would reap all of the rewards that came with it.