Dang Cheaters

"Look, all I'm sayin' is that it helps.... like a lot."

Soft Touch rolled her eyes as she trotted along with the group of mercenaries as they passed the gates into town. The troupe had been pretty decent as far as paid killers went but, when your company is a group of 'ruin explorers', you tended to take most things with a grain of salt.

As it was, two unicorns, a gem gnoll and a trio of dwarves had been her company for the last two weeks as they cleared a trade road of bandits and rescued a village from a swarm of faceless evil rabbits. The seven, despite their differences, had managed to work together and, if she were honest with herself, she wouldn't be entirely against working with them again.

Well, except for the gnoll... he smelled bad and only got worse when he bathed.

"And all I'm saying is that magic is for magic people. You don't see cats using wands or fish needing spells to swim. If it ain't broke, don't screw it up with magic!" Soft snarked out as she flipped open a pouch on her saddle pack and pulled out a flask of brandy.

"Soft, look, I get it; you're freaked out by magi-" the taller of her two unicorn companions started before stumbling over a cobblestone and landing in a heap.

Soft Touch stopped and looked back while the second unicorn paused to look up from his spellbook to glance back at the noise. With a snort, he lit his horn and picked his compatriot off the road.

"Thanks Bright... but as I was sayin', anyone can learn magic... you don't have to be scared of it or anything. It's, like, everywhere!"

Bright Way rolled his eyes as a quick spell dusted off his friend before he returned his attention to his book and turned to wander off. Soft Touch simply shook her head as she smirked at the three dwarves standing behind the younger unicorn.

Dorgoth, Grault, and Huzon, for their own part, were silently miming a number of ways to shut the young sorcerer up. Dorgoth, the shortest of the group, was pretending to dig a pit and push the unicorn in. Grault, the muscle, mimed knocking him out, but seemed undecided on if the war hammer or the shield would be most effective. Huzon, the heaviest of the group as a whole, was trying to hold back laughter as he simply tied a cloak around his neck, much to Soft's confusion... until he pulled out a fork and knife and grinned widely with mirth in his eyes.

Mortar, their guide and resident gem gnoll, drooled. He wasn't really the most clever of characters, but he had his uses.

"Look. I'm not saying you shouldn't do magic... you're a unicorn, and that's great and all, but I'm not keeping any of that weird crap you keep going on about. If someone wants it, I'm selling it first chance I get."

"Soft! You can't! Those gems are so hard to come by! Look, I'll take them and you can just forget you ever even had them, alright?"

"So, you'll buy them then?"

The unicorn flinched. "Um, how much did you want for them, Soft?"

She looked up, raising a hoof to her lips as she'd seen a number of merchants do in the past. "Well, I suppose I could let them go for.... oh, let's say 5000."

The sick look on his face was enough to tell her she'd guessed right... poor bastard wanted them enough that he'd pay top coin for them. Magic folk were just so damn predictable. If they couldn't afford it, they wanted it with everything they had. If they had it though, they'd sell it all in an instant if there was something they couldn't afford that was magic.

She smiled as she watched his face flit through expression after expression. She knew that look... it was the 'internal debate' look that they always got when they were trying to figure out a solution before they'd be forced to pay market price... and weren't coming up with an answer that they liked.

"I..." he sighed, "can't afford that." She watched his ears wilt, feeling just a little guilt about messing with him. "But look, Soft, can you just hold onto them for me until I can make it? Please? One professional to another?" He looked up with pleading eyes as the dwarves behind him gave various expressions of nausea.

Mortar passed gas that made the dwarves somehow look even more nauseous.

"Ug... fine. Here, I know you'll just keep giving me those looks if I didn't give 'em to you anyway, Dawn, but by the Queen, let's move before Mortar's gotten us kicked out of town."

With a quick flip of her head, Soft tossed a small pouch of gems to the unicorn before trotting off in the direction of the nearest bar.

-~oOo~-

The Cracked Barrel wasn't a fancy tavern with lots of windows. It wasn't a showy inn with paintings of landscapes. It wasn't even a dark and creepy place to find unsavory characters. No... the Cracked Barrel was a well lit, albeit dingy, hole in the wall type bar. Nestled uncomfortably between a smithy and a stonewright, the little place had just enough space for a handful of tables and a central fire pit, courtesy of the smithy's cast offs.

No one would fight in the Cracked Barrel... it just wasn't done. The proprietor was a massive Phoenix Wolf who had taken it upon himself to start a 'respectbil' business at the end of his 'avenchurin' days. The fights here would, invariably, find their way outside before any strikes were exchanged on the premise.... no one wanted to see the old wolf wading through drunkards again, and the rumors stopped most who hadn't seen it themselves.

Thankfully, that left it as a close, but relatively safe, place to relax after a long job killing bandits and liberating villages from rambunctious rodents.

"Long night featherduster?" came the rolling voice of the proprietor as Soft lifted her head from the table to look at him.

"Something like that, mutt."

Despite her words, neither of the pair had a drop of animosity to their voices. Soft Touch lolled her head as she turned to look the old wolf over. For his own part, Conflagration padded over and pushed her nearly off her seat in a friendly shove.

"Then you should get out before you do something stupid. Go on, you. Move that flank out to the road and get yourself a place to pass out before you try to make a bed of my table." He smirked with a huff. "I'm sure half the lumps here would even pay for a room for you, but that ain't your style."

With a groan and a shove, Soft Touch levered herself up from the table and staggered to her hooves, turning to drop a number of coins for her drinks. "Fine fine... I'm moving out, Torch. Keep me a few pints next time you get some of that fairy water stuff. You know the drill."

With a smirk, the phoenix wolf shook his head but collected the coins and watched the pegasus stumble out into the night.

-~oOo~-

The trio of thugs had come out of nowhere as she stumbled down one of the less traveled alleys on her way to ... probably an inn. One had stepped out in front of her, smiling slightly as he casually tossed a small club from hand to hand. Another had dropped in behind her, cutting off her easiest route back to open spaces. The third... he threw a net from above, choosing to remain at a distance on the roof.

Of the three, Soft was most frustrated with the idiot on the roof.

"Alright miss, we're tarebly sorry to trouble you, but it seems you musta taken my bags all accidental like. If you'd be so kind as to be jus given'em back now, we'll be on our ways."

Soft Touch rolled her neck, setting her eyes on the speaker in front of her as she began to work the net slowly off.

"Aye! Don't be doing that, missus. It'd be right unfortunate if you were to get tangled in that net there," came the taunting response from the mugger guarding her escape back to the road.

"Look, boys, I just got back from a long job and I just want to get some sleep on a soft bed... so could we please just not do this tonight?" She glanced up to the roofs as the last of the net slipped off her back, mussing her coat and feathers in an unpleasant fashion.

"Naw. 'M Sorry miss, but we can't let you go be stealin' our bags," the thug before her pulled his club in towards his chest, straightening up with an almost comical leer. "Itwood be uncivlized and such. You understand."

Soft rolled her eyes, and quickly regretted it as the world seemed to sway for a few seconds. "We're seriously going to do this? Right now?"

Once again, the thug before her smiled, "'fraid so miss, so why doncha go and make it be easy on ya and just give over m'bags hmmm?"

Soft muttered something under her breath before pulling one of the laces loose on her right hoof guard, and glancing back to the thug who had been speaking before pulling loose the same lace of her left. The thug raised a bushy eyebrow and looked to his compatriots in confusion, but received only shrugs in response.

"Now missus, not to be pushin' or nof, but we'd be right grateful would you jus be handin' our bags over an' all. No need to be droppin' yer clothes, see?"

Soft, normally, would have rolled her eyes, but fought down the urge as she recalled the world tumbling and swaying from a moment ago. Instead she merely took a slow breath to calm her shaky senses and pull the ends of both laces into her mouth. No doubt her assailants were preparing to rush her, knock her out and steal her bags, her money, and perhaps her gear. They'd likely been scouting the roads and gates, looking for travelers with money and goods, weary from the road and strangers to the town. In all likelihood, theirs was a practice that was frowned upon, but tacitly encouraged by the citizenry for the simple fact that it drew more money into the purses of those who ran the businesses.

Such things meant little to the average townie... they weren't the ones to lose money or livelihoods. It wouldn't make sense. For a small town, everyone would run across one another at some point, everyone would eventually have to work with, train, seek the help of, or sell to everyone else. When crimes were committed in such a place, you either weren't caught or you didn't target those who you would have to live with.

So... visitors and guests were the marks. They wouldn't know names and often enough wouldn't be able to recall enough information from such a 'frightful' encounter until pursuing justice was simply too much of a hassle. And, for most passerby, a mugging would be more than intimidating enough to relinquish their meager possessions.

Unfortunately for her 'friends', Soft Touch was no simple traveler.

Tying the laces together in her mouth would be about as easy as walking, holding back her dinner when she realized she had probably stepped in something, less so, but a moment later, she looked up and spit on the ground.

"Alright boys, I'm letting you know, I'm not really feeling all that cheerful right now... last chance and we can call it a misunderstanding."

To their credit, the thugs seemed to consider for a moment before breaking out into laughter.

"'ell, can't be sayin' we didn't offer," the leader smiled before leaping at her with his club already swinging towards her head.

Soft swallowed back the sudden urge to vomit as he seemed to blur in the air, but closed her eyes and leapt backwards, slamming her back into the thug behind her and cocking her legs for a kick while lifting her front hooves above her head.

The sharp yelp from behind, coupled with the satisfying crunch as her rear hooves planted firmly into their airborne leader, was almost enough to send the three tumbling back out into the street behind. When she dropped her tied hooves down and pushed off the thug behind her acted as a cushion when the force of the kick sent them back another few feet.

Their leader, caught by the laces behind his head and kicked with the crushing force of a small horse, went sailing into a pile of something while spinning... likely with a horrible case of whiplash.

Opening her eyes, Soft belched softly before rolling off the stunned assailant and finding her hooves.

"That's why you take the easy way out," she muttered before turning to step back into the street, shaking the knot in her bracers loose in the process.

Above her, forgotten for the moment, the third thug watched with curiosity as a patently drunk pegasus systematically took apart what should have been an easy hit, only to stumble off and puke into a nearby planter.

"Funny..." he muttered from the roof, "thought she'd be grease by now."

And with a slight chuckle, he slipped from the roof, looted the unconscious members of the gang, and strolled from the alley a few minutes later to find himself a drink... perhaps some of that dirt horse swill on a night like this.

-~oOo~-

Soft woke to the gentle ministrations of the god of hangovers drumming all 12 of his mallets upon the inside of her skull.

Though, perhaps 'waking' was too liberal a term for the groaning lump of pegasus that tried desperately, and failed, to find the right combination of muscles to pull the pillow over her head.

Pain was, of course, the end result of a night of drinking, a lack of water, and barely any food to soak it up with. It hadn't helped that she had apparently found her place of slumber by stumbling into every wall along the way, if the aches in her muzzle were anything to go by. Still, on the whole, she didn't feel anything broken, so there was that.

"So, Soft, about those gems?"

Why the hell was Dawn in her room?

"Soft? Hey, Soft, you alright? You look a little beaten up."

The sound that escaped her lips was something like the bastard offspring of a groan and a curse.

"Oh! You are awake! Here, let me just get the window then."

It took Soft's brain precious seconds to process that comment, and when neuron A finally got the message to neuron B, the mental equivalent of a fog horn was already engaging in parts of her anatomy that were not normally used for thought. Instincts and years of training worked together, teaming with the single goal of stopping the oncoming agony that her brain was just now beginning to figure out.

Fortunately for Dawn, Soft's brain was still in control of such advanced concepts as 'coordination,' making her attempt at strangling him completely ineffective. Unfortunately for Soft, that same lack of coordination combined with the aforementioned reflexes to place her head firmly into the side table with unhealthy speed.

The crashing thump was enough to cause the unicorn to turn, albeit as he opened the shutters and stabbed her eyes with the blazing glory of the sun.

"Um, Soft?" was all he managed to say before a deft kick brought him to the floor as well.

-~oOo~-

The sun was up, the windows opened, the scummy crap that always got stuck in her hooves had been scrubbed out, and Soft Touch was in the process of slowly nursing a hangover back from the edge of agony towards something that only approached crippling. Dawn was busy checking over his meal, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything when he'd nicked it earlier. Long grain honey bread sat alongside a small bowl of currants, a bottle of some kind of juice, and a lumpy bag of mulled prairie seeds. Next to Soft, a twist of smoked fish rounded things out.

And between them, a pitcher of ice was slowly melting, making soft clicks and pops every once in a while as the charm that kept it cool slowly bled off its power.

All in all, it was a lovely breakfast that Soft could simply not enjoy.

"So.... you got mugged last night?"

Soft cracked her eyes open an inch, letting them settle as the blazing hammers of sobriety tried unsuccessfully to convince her that alcohol was a naughty thing. Dawn was sitting there, across the table from her, looking uncomfortable but determined.

Huh.... odd combination for the guy.

"Nah. Got into a few fights with the local architecture on the way home." At his raised eyebrow, she added, "I didn't lose a thing to those thugs."

The unicorn turned his head, looking for all the world like he was chewing on a sentence he just couldn't quite get out. Soft watched him for a few moments before closing her eyes again and muttering "Damnit, Dawn, just say it and get it over with. I ain't drunk enough to deal with this crap right now."

The ice popped again before the stallion took a breath and responded. "You know, Soft, I get that you don't like it, but getting drunk and getting mugged really should kind of be a hint that you're making yourself too obvious."

Soft raised an eyebrow... this coming from the bloody little thief that somehow snuck into her room while she was wandering drunk in the city?

"Dawn..."

"No, no.... wait. I'm serious here Soft. I get it. I do. It's not normal for you. You don't like the stuff that doesn't add up in your head. I get it. But, jeez... for someone who works as hard as you do, you gotta know it starts to attract attention from folks like us."

Soft frowned and cracked her eye open again, shooting the blue sorcerer a glare. "Like.... us?"

"Yheah, like us. I mean, I know you and Bright kind of keep it on the up and up, but when you think about it... really think about it, we're just a bunch of thieves." Hes gestured to the table with the meal spread between them. "And seeing a single mare strolling around drunk, at night, with a big ol' bag of noisy treasure and a heavier sack of gold... well, it kind of begs for a bit of the criminal element."

Soft stared at him for a few more seconds, the unicorn's uneasy smile dropping when she didn't respond.

"I'm just saying, Soft, that as much as you hate the stuff, there are some things that magic is actually good for. Even for you, maybe."

He really was trying to help... she knew that, but at the moment she really wanted to just club him upside the head and sleep for a few more hours.

"Dawn," she started, raising a hoof to rub his face as she spoke, "I'm going to be unusually polite and not even strangle you right now, 'cuz I know you're trying to help or something, but if you say another damned word about me using magic, I'm going to shove that pitcher up your plothole so far that your dinner will be cold from that charm."

When she lowered her hoof and looked at him, his expression was one she hadn't expected at all: pity.

"Fine, Touch. I'm just trying to look out for you." He shook his head slightly and pushed away from the table. "Enjoy your breakfast. I'll be catching up with Bright and the others. Meet us at the board in an hour or so if you feel like it. We'll be heading out tonight either way."

He turned to leave, and she could almost swear he looked sad for a moment before pushing his way out into the hallway of whatever inn she'd ended up in and closing the door. His hoofsteps grew fainter as he walked off, leaving her with a meal that could have fed the both of them and a little pouch she hadn't noticed until just then.

Curiosity peaked, she reached out a hoof and knocked the little bag over, raising an eyebrow as a rather large pile of thick coins spilled out.

"The hell?" she muttered before noticing the heavy printing on a number of the marks indicating a rather respectable sum. It was a few more moments before her eyes widened and she spread the coins out to count, inadvertently knocking over the bowl of currants.

"Five thousand. The little shit actually got together five thousand marks to pay me back," she leaned back, running a hoof through her mane as she considered just what it meant for a thief to pay top dollar for something, and to leave that kind of money just laying around.

"Shit," she muttered again as she swept the coins back into the pouch, shoved as much of the food as she could into her overfull saddle pack, and glared balefully at the spilled currants that littered the floor. Shame, that; currants were a favorite of hers, but picking them all up would take forever.

With a sigh, she left the mess, pulled on her gear, and trotted to the door, ready to find out what scummy little hole she'd spent the night in...

... and, maybe to find out why the little blue freak was playing on the level with her.

Definitely not like she cared or anything.

-~oOo~-

Trekking across town on a sunny day with a 12 mallet hangover was never something Soft Touch considered doing lightly. It was painful enough to wake up in a dark room, mouth full of the taste of something better left forgotten, but to add bright sunlight to the generally friendly dispositions of townsfolk just seemed to be asking for fate to use your skull as the anvil on which suffering is forged.

In short, Soft was not known for her cheerful disposition after drinking... and even less for running around early the next morning.

Stumbling into the shade of one of the mercenary hall's many awnings, Soft groaned as she squinted at the warrant board, hoping for a clue as to where Dawn and Bright might have wandered off to. Sure, they would be moving out that night but that wouldn't help her find that blasted thief that had probably just sold half his toys to buy her gems.

Freaking casters and their magic addictions. Soft frowned again, looking over the board and weighing the offers.

Bandits... when were there not? A little coin and unknown risks... Not very likely.

Mugger... medium height, medium build, normal skin color, no noticeable markings or distinguishing features. Nah... that's just an alibi.

Vall Kree... Half-demon hellspawn. Wanted for the corruption and slaughter of 4 villages and the population of at least... Nope. Not enough gold in the world.

Cream Pegasus, slate mane/tail, blue eyes... Public Intoxication, Disorderly Conduct, Assault and Battery of two locals...yheah.... just pull that one down and burn it before anyone reads it.

...

"So, you showed up after all," the rich voice of Bright Way came from her side. Turning, Soft saw the unicorn, spellbook hovering nearby, as he regarded her with eyes that should really have gotten him a girl years ago. As it was, Soft only frowned a moment before glancing around for the rest of the group.

"Yheah.... Dawn broke in and tried to buy those gems from yesterday. You seen him?"

Bright glanced at his book again before gesturing back towards the street. "Breaking into a room... not really shocking. But yes, he said something about the Third'sday market being in town. I'm, not entirely sure what that even means, but he said he'd be by the Southshale well stalls if you came looking for him."

"The hell's he doing there?" Soft grumbled. While the town wasn't exactly poor, there were certain qualities and services which would never be popular in the financial system that was known as bartering. That the town could support markets was a miracle in and of itself, but the markets near the Southshale well were well known for their rather pricey wares.  Wares that Dawn had no business being around.

While Dawn was decent enough when taken as a whole, in parts... he was a rather shady individual. Being equal parts open and sneaky, Dawn tended to gather attention at the best of times and ire at the worst. His demeanor would not be strange within a traveling fair, but his dealings would most certainly gather the wrong kind of attention if something caught his eye.

And, while being a mercenary tended to afford people like himself a certain degree of legal flexibility, if he wasn't actively on the job, hunting some miscreant or monster, his antics tended to fall outside the law.

The issue, of course, was that the markets near the Sothshale well tended to be both well populated and filled with the sorts of merchants that counted their coins after each sale; the kind of merchants that placed wards upon the most trivial of trinkets. Their prices ranged from high to higher and their quality could fill ledgers with the finest inks. In other words, they had shiny stuff and knew it was worth a pretty sum of money.

They were also known for their rather strict handling of thieves.

With another groan as she left the shade, Soft Touch started a bit of a sprint before taking off into the sky, determined to catch her idiot partner before he got caught doing whatever it was he planned...

...and damned be the hangover that tried to stop her.

-~oOo~-

It didn't take long to locate the market. Brightly dyed shades fluttered in the breeze, crisscrossing the bizarre maze of stalls that wound through an otherwise open section of the town. Carts and tables, crates and doorways littered the clearing, making snaking paths that changed by the hour as vendors arrived or departed. The voices of the merchants barking out tantalizing 'deals' or simply hawking their wares filled the air almost as surely as the number of winged carriers darting in and out of the sky to restock or deliver the purchases from below. The aroma of dozens of exotic foods, potions, cook fires, and the subtle stench of a hundred or more unwashed sweaty beings wafted through the sky as the sun blazed down adding to the mix. It was a chaotic dance of motion and sound, bright colors and pungent smells, that assaulted the senses all while attempting to seem reasonable enough to forestall complaint from the residents.

In short, hangover fuel.

Soft moaned faintly as she searched through the tangled mess of sensory agony, tracing paths and scouring the teeming mass of flesh below while simultaneously trying to keep down her meager breakfast.

There was the well, its simple form easily identifiable by the enforced space of nearly ten feet in every direction. There were the town guards, poorly armed but dedicated and well trained, wading in and out of the throng. And, of course, there was the sweat cart, already loaded down with two would-be thieves, resting in an unshaded stretch of the market, and receiving the glares of every vendor within eyesight.

Soft felt a bit bad for those two... yes, stealing was against the law, but the towns method of deterring it was, in her eyes, at least as wrong.

After all, in other places you'd end up in lockup or on the treadmill until you paid your debt to society. A few places might scar or brand you for more costly thefts. One town would work you until the weight of the goods had been sweated off. But here? No.... here they had a more creative solution.

Gelding or red irons on the first offense. Hobbling on the second.

Thieves, generally, didn't make a third appearance at the Third'sday market.

Soft growled out softly as she finally spotted him, threading his way between lanes like a veteran while simultaneously drawing every eye with his cheerful demeanor.

She could already see one of the townies following behind him carefully, watching for him to wander off without paying for some random trinket. And all around, the merchants were grinning widely, offering their services or wares, while signaling the guard the moment he passed by.

In short, Dawn was about to be jumped and taken, whether he had done anything yet or not.

But of course, that wouldn't stop an angry merchant from making an 'innocent mistake' and having him charged and punished before finding out (or caring) if he was guilty or not. The Third'sday market was not a place to worry about such trivialities as that.

-~oOo~-

Dawn wove through the throng with the grace of a lifelong dancer, nimbly sliding past vendor and customer alike. His was the motion of the sky... gliding along on subtle winds but never quite touching the obstructions that he came up against. It was a reaction, an instinct, honed over years of irreputable dealings and dozens of brawls. It was almost poetic, watching his body move.

Soft couldn't care less as she twisted mid-air and corkscrewed into a dive.

She turned as she plummeted, keeping her head facing her target, flitting out a few inches of wing here or flaring her tail just a bit there to guide herself in. She squinted as she whipped by ropes and shades, yards of wooden poles and market banners, each coming withing a hooves breadth of clipping her. She didn't care. As the seconds stretched on, she flared her wings before pumping with an athlete's stamina, forcing herself to go faster.

And then, she flipped her tail to the side, spun her body almost completely around, and bore down with sudden violence upon the armored back of the guard who had been leveling a crossbow at Dawn.

The two went down in a symphony of metal and hooves.

Of course, rapid takedowns were something of a specialty of hers, almost a requirement in her field of work, but given the circumstances, she'd foregone the customary application of stealth. Rolling herself back to her hooves, she blinked as no fewer than four spears and a crossbow leveled at her face.

"Attacking the Guard's a month in the cells, lil missy. Hope it were worth it to ya," growled one of the spearmen.

Frowning, Soft rolled her eyes. "And impeding a Guilded Merc without reason is a fine if you're lucky," she spat back.

Unimpressed, one of the Guard started to reach towards her when a faint glow surrounded his gauntleted hand.

"I would really rather you didn't touch her," came the oddly cheerful voice of Dawn as he sidled up to Soft, a similar glow coming from his horn.

The Guards, still brandishing weapons, glared for a few moments longer before the one who had started to reach pulled his hand back and snarled back. "Reports of thievery, pickpocketing, witnesses to a unicorn matching your description stealing goods from the stalls -"

Dawn interrupted, "which I assume you have the paperwork for and alerted the respective authorities before taking action... perhaps attempting to apprehend or, I don't know, verify your information before leveling weapons?"

Soft continued to stand, though she was losing her initial fire. It was one thing to take out a single target. It was another to stare down a patrol... weapons drawn. Internally, she was counting off seconds, guessing at tactics, playing the odds against escaping with so many pointy objects within striking range... and she wasn't liking the outcomes.

One of the merchants shouted "It's them damn horses what make this place a sty! I seen 'at one pocket a watch from my own table! Ain't an honorable drop in 'is body!"

The Guard smiled, "Sounds like we have a witness."

At which point every one of their weapons jerked violently skywards and spun to face downwards again, wreathed in a bright yellow glow.

"And," a rich male voice cut through the crowd, "it would seem, you are as ignorant as that slime is idiotic."

Soft grinned along with Dawn as Bright Way politely edged through the crowd, trailed by three heavily armed and armored dwarves... and a slightly damp gem gnoll.

"I feel it important to note that neither of those two have upon them said timepiece, nor the 'pocket' of which this charlatan professes witness to. I feel it, likewise, important to recognize that without proof of a crime, you conspired to bare a weapon against not one, but two guilded mercenaries. I feel it further important to acknowledge the only crime witnessed here was one of which that can be seen as protecting the innocent against a corrupt guard who benefits from said mercenary activity." Bright Way tilted his head slightly, "Please, do stop me if I am, in any way, mistaken."

The guards looked between one another, but stilled as their speaker raised a hand. "You're playing a dangerous game, horse. We don't take threats lightly."

Bright, head still tiled in mock confusion, raised an eyebrow. "Oh? That's good. The guard doesn't take threats lightly." He straightened himself up as his spellbook floated into view. "Then I shall have to make this overly clear then... If you attempt to harm any of the guild, without cause, proper claim, evidence, and paperwork in the future, I shall visit upon you the contents of the first thirty pages of my spellbook." He smiled slightly, "I should also advise against threatening mercenaries... especially the ones that handle the problems of your city."

With a flick of his head, the collection of floating weapons plunged into the ground at the feet of the guards.

The two groups stared at each other in silence for a few moments before Dawn cheerfully chirped in "Thanks for the save Bright! Come on Soft, let's go."

And just as he stepped past the ring of guards, Bright's voice broke the silence once more. "Search him... her too."

Dawn froze, eyes widening as he felt a strong pair of hands grab him by the shoulders and force him to his knees. Rough gloves pulled and pried at his coat, sought out his saddle pack and even emptied his coin purse of its meager sum. Despite their rough handling, he was standing again within a minute.

Bright Way watched the entire time, eyes expressionless as his spellbook hovered nearby. Whispers rippled through the crowd as merchants and others watched. Even the dwarves seemed suddenly uncomfortable as they watched two of their friends be stripped down at the order of another.

Finally, the Guards stepped away from Dawn, pushing him roughly, though not violently towards Bright.

He stumbled, found his footing, and then looked down at the other unicorn before shaking his head. "That wasn't right."

Bright Way looked him over a few seconds before whispering "you brought it on yourself."

With a snort, Bright turned and began to pass back through the crowd when Soft's voice snapped Dawn's head back around.

"HEY! YOU GIVE THAT BACK YOU FILTHY THIEVING LITTLE CUSS!"

Clasped in the hand of of one the guard, held triumphantly up like the spoils of war, was a small pouch that clinked heavily with coins.

Dawn felt his heart clench. He would bet his life there would be five thousand marks inside.

-~oOo~-

Soft Touch ground her teeth in frustration as that haughty bastard just kept walking back and forth in front of the sweat cart, tossing her purse of coins idly as he 'guarded' the prisoners.

Namely, herself and the two actual crooks in the cart with her.

The first was a skinny guy with rags tied to his feet. He was grungy and lanky, probably out more than a few meals, and just a bit deaf if his jumping whenever something moved on his left was anything to go by. The other was a slimeball that had been caught after the kid he'd paid to pinch stuff had given him up. Seeing her company, Soft could almost understand the first, if not for being warned by one of the less pushy guards that he'd been caught when his fingers had become stuck to the bodice of one of the vendors... a spell of some sort, that wouldn't release him.

Food was one thing; something that Soft could understand taking if one was starving. But, no matter how she looked at it, no amount of bread would have sated the hunger he had been trying to feed.

When she'd been shoved in, both had shuffled to the far end of the cart though, apparently after seeing her plow through the one guard they had decided that the guard would likely be a better gamble than the angry pegasus.

And Soft ~was~ angry. Not only had she come to save Dawn, but she'd even been directed to him by Bright in the first place. That she'd put herself in direct danger, without any promise of pay and no backup.... that was just the icing on the cake. That she'd only come tearing out of the inn with a hangover because Dawn had actually decided to PAY her for those gems.... that was frustrating. But the thing, the real pinnacle of angst, that made everything go from a pain in the flank to an absolutely new level of horse-fuckery.... that would be that the whole damn thing was just so Dawn could get those blasted rocks to make magic crap with.

Soft's ears flicked back and forth, tracking the little scumbag with her money... and in her mind, there was no longer any question... it WAS her money now. And when she got out, she knew she'd be visiting the guild for the requisite eighteen minutes before seeking remunerations.

She'd planned the most efficient use of her 8 minutes of retribution, starting with bucking him behind the knee when he wasn't looking.

Threaten to 'geld' her?!? She'd make his unborn grandchildren flinch with the kick she had planned.

And out there, looking both desperate and worried, was Dawn... fiddling with his bags as he tried to figure out how to help.

Bright Way stood nearby, impassive, though she could tell he hadn't planned on this outcome. His left ear would twitch whenever he saw her looking his way.

Oh, she'd figured out his ploy a minute in. Play the big stallion. Waltz in and take control. Make a big show about throwing around the guild's charter and then stick Dawn with a little bit of public humiliation to cut down on his thievery. Yheah... great plan, if there was any chance of it getting through his happy little skull. But, no... Bright hadn't thought it through. He couldn't just say "search that one"... he'd have looked like a patsy, and the merchants would just mark it up to another pony covering for their partner in crime. Damn be the facts of the matter... she knew how these things worked.

Humans were scum.

And, there it was.... when they couldn't get Dawn, they'd just convinced themselves that ponies couldn't have money. They'd made up their minds and decided that she'd stolen it... forget the fact that NO ONE was missing money. Hells, forget the fact that Dawn had probably SOLD HIS CRAP to these bastards to get that money in the first place.

Oh no... when she got out, that guard was not the only one who was going to be needing a few days off.

She glared at Bright Way... and from that ear of his, she knew he got the message.

*****