Wrath of My Righteous Little Ponies

“We can wait longer, as long as it takes in fact.” Striker assured Greenery as she scratched ‘With Love’ and her name down at the bottom of the short note she had written for Gold. Looking it over she nodded in satisfaction and tucked her pencil back under her armor.

“I can’t just abandon the rest of the city for one pony,” Greenery answered picking up the note and carrying it back to their bedroom. Striker followed and watched as she slid back the opening to a hidden niche and slipped the note inside. She paused for a moment steeling herself so she could continue what she was doing, “Not even Gold. She wouldn’t want me to.”

Reaching back into her saddlebags she took out two of the three healing potions and placed them in as well. Greenery was about to slide the cover back over the niche when a white hoof shoved three more vials into the niche. She looked back to see Striker giving her his signature smile, “Those will get her back to you without anything nasty catching sight of her.”

Greenery almost protested the expense of the gift, but his warm disposition disarmed her and the protest died on her tongue. She nodded her thanks and slid the cover in place, even Striker’s keen eye would have trouble seeing it without knowing it was there.

“We need to hurry,” Greenery said as they stepped out of the house and she secured the door, though leaving it unlocked as she had found it. “I left one of my senior knight’s in charge when I left, but I should be there to report what has been happening when the higher ranking crusaders arrive.”

They started away from the house, Greenery heading for the same street they had come down from, but Striker directed her to an adjacent one. “We shouldn’t go back the way we came, it’s a good way to get caught. Trust me I know something about avoiding ponies looking for me.”

“I bet you do,” Greenery chuckled imagining the unhappy father of a recently deflowered daughter hot on Striker’s trail. It was something she knew she shouldn’t think was amusing but it just could help thinking it was when Striker was involved. It seemed Striker was already being a bad influence on her.

As they disappeared around a corner heading north a figure appeared at the other end of street coming up from the south. She was a mint green mare with a white stripped pale cyan mane. Her amber eyes were slitted like a cat’s and a pair of fang-like tusks jutted up from her lower lip. She was dressed in blood red leather, fitted with a mask that jutted up over her face giving her the appearance of having two extra demon-like horns. In her mint green magic she carried an obsidian ranseur.

She smiled when she reached the front of Gold and Greenery’s house, just where that pony had told her it was, once she had twisted her ranseur in his side a few times. Smiling she vanished from sight and entered finding it empty. That was all right, she would just have to prepare a surprise for when Green Garden got home. Hopefully her little wife would be of some assistance.

“So now the tavern’s in an uproar, this pegasus, Blitz, is so embarrassed that he’d turned totally purple when all of a sudden there’s this really shrill bird cry. The tavern goes quiet and everyone looks to see this big mean looking griffon striding up to me. He’s wearing the same armor as Blitz so they gotta be from the same company. When he reaches me he stabs his claws into the counter menacingly and says. ‘You better watch what you say or someone going to take you out someday.’”

Greenery chuckled her mouth split in a wide grin too enthralled by the story to even wonder how Striker can lighten her mood so easily even as they strode through the ruined city. “And you said…”

“Well we’re in a tavern, you could start by buying me a drink.”

A sudden agonized whinny snapped Greenery and Striker out of their conversation. Their ears swivel in the direction of the sound, but all they can hear was the faint sound of high pitched laughing.

Greenery’s face turned grim and set itself in stone as she hurried forward trying in vain to be quiet as her thick armor rubbed auditable together. Striker winced at the noise and followed without a sound, his unencumbered form quickly overtaking Greenery’s and moving to hide behind the corner of the still standing wall of a ruined building.

Greenery moved up behind him as he peered around the corner to see what was happening. She knew her limitations when it came to stealth and was used to letting Gold take point and scout situations out for them.

Around the corner the street had been cleared of rubble and an improvised stage made of several turned over wagons had been erected in the middle of it. On the stage were a frightened-looking pair of mares and a pair of stallions, each armed with broken weapons and clad in bits and pieces of dented, bloody armor. Four more dead ponies lay scattered about the cleared area, mostly pegasi. Bloody tears to their wings and throat suggested that they had been cut down by the quasits that were flapping about the stage shouting commands and encouragement to the frightened ponies as if directing some horrific play.

Quasits were small pony-like demons about the size of a cat with bat wings, razor like fore hooves and mouths full of sharp needle-like teeth. That was as complete a description as anyone could give of the vile little creatures for beyond those simple features they were far more varied than ponies. Some looked so ordinary they could be confused with a shrunken bat pony, while others were so deformed they resembled ponies in only the most passing way.

Greenery gave a low growl, something she did with a fierceness she’d inherited from her father, when Striker told her what was happening. “Damn little bastards can just fly out of the reach of my sword, they’re near impossible to kill.”

“Don’t worry I’ll herd them down to you,” Striker assured her flexing his wings.

“Watch their teeth,” Greenery loaded up her crossbow, she might as well take a shot at one of them, though they healed quickly from such wounds. “They’re as venomous as a snake’s.”

Striker nodded and took to the air flying high and unseen using the building and gray clouds as cover. Greenery charged out into the cleared street, stopped, leveled her crossbow and aiming at one of the demons. Just as they realized they were under attack, Greenery let the bolt fly. It stabbed deep into the side of one of the quasits burying itself at least halfway up the shaft into the little demon.

The quasit gave a cry of pain, but the wound, that would have instantly killed a full grown pony, didn’t even cause the demon’s flapping wings to quaver. It seemed to smile down at her, then reached back grasped the bolt in its teeth and with a quick pull, yanked it from its side. Greenery watched as in a swift moment the wound sealed shut and completely faded away. The now uninjured quasit spat out the bolt as the other called down to the frightened ponies, “Kill her.”

With quivering sobs the cowed common ponies didn’t hesitate in leaping off the stage and charged at the large, fully armored Greenery. The paladin reared up slightly to protect her unarmored head from the blows of the terrified ponies some of whom cried out for her to run and others for her to save them.

Greenery could never abandon the terrified ponies, but she couldn’t just let them continue attacking her either. All it would take was one lucky blow and she would be in serious trouble. Coolly she took measure of one of the mares flexing her foreleg anxiously. Then when the mare drew back for another blow Greenery’s hoof swung out and cracked her in the side of the muzzle. The mare reeled at the blow and staggered a few steps before collapsing to the ground unconscious.

Greenery let out a relieved sigh assured that she’d left the mare unhurt, but it cut to a gasp as one of the quasits dropped from the sky. It buried its razor sharp hoof and nearly a quarter of its foreleg into the fallen mare’s throat. The other called to the frightened ponies to defend its companion and the murdering quasit grinned wickedly. It pulled its bloody hoof from the mare’s neck and licking the blood that poured down the leg as the ponies moved to block Greenery’s path to it.

Its delight at her anger and horror was cut short however as a black and white streak dropped from the sky and stabbed a pair of hoof-blades through its back. The force of the blow driving it off of the dead mare and onto the ground Striker standing over it.

“Striker!” Greenery called the pale stallion’s attention to her. As she let the commoner’s blows bounce off her armor Greenery pulled out a flask from her saddlebag and tossed it up over the terrified ponies to Striker. “Holy water!”

As a look of horror came over the quasit’s face a wide grin spread over Striker’s. He caught the flask in his hoof and with one swift motion yanked his hoof blades from the demon back and slammed the flask down onto his back. The flask shattered and before the demon’s rapid healing could seal its wounds the blessed water seeped into them. The quasit cried out in a shrill neighing as it writhed in agony it’s flesh melting off as black ichor spilled out from between its sharp teeth.

“Ahh stupid pony!” The second quasit gave an anguished cry and dived from air landing on Striker’s back. The white pegasus reared up and bucked trying to throw the demon off. The quasit hung on by sinking its needle-like teeth into the back of Striker’s neck.

Striker cursed in his cry of pain and whipped his head around to get at the tiny demon. Striker caught one of the demon’s bat wings in his mouth and with a sharp tug ripped the demon off his back and tossed it to the ground. Before the demon could recover Striker pinned it to the ground by stabbing his hoof blades down over its neck.

“Striker,” Greenery called again and tossed a second flask over the frightened pony’s to him. The quasit gave a cry and struggled in vain to escape from under the much larger creature’s hoof.

Striker caught the flask and gave the demon a wicked grin, “You look thirsty.” Before the demon could think to clamp its mouth shut Striker shoved the flask into it. The flash shattered before it could pass between the long sharp teeth of the demon, but the holy water poured into its mouth and Striker held it closed with a hoof.

Smoke bellowed up from the demon’s head as it the flesh of its mouth began to dissolve. However, before the water could eat a hole through the quasit mouth the tiny demon gulped involuntarily and flushed the holy water down into its stomach. The quasit stopped struggling finally as its eyes began to bug out of its head. Striker let go of the demon as its stomach began to swell and balloon out stretching the skin until it started to split. Guessing what was about to happen to the tiny demon Striker turned and bucked the bloated creature across the street. It continued to swell as it flew through the air. When it completed its arch and hit the side of the makeshift stage it popped like a wet oily balloon leaving a splatter of black gore across the stage.

As soon as it popped the cowed ponies dropped their broken weapons and fell to their knees overwhelmed by the horrors they’d been forced to commit. Sobbing they begged for forgiveness.

Greenery didn’t hear them, watching as Striker started to wobble uncertainly on his hooves somehow thrown off balance by the buck. He rubbed a hoof across his face trying to clear the sudden wave of dizziness that had come over him. He glanced up to see Greenery rushing towards him and quickly put on a smile, “Well that could have… gone better.”

As soon as Greenery reached Striker she pressed her pursed lips urgently to his neck. Despite his dizziness Striker’s smile grew, “I know I did a pretty good job, but aren’t you still married?”

Greenery cuffed him lightly as she carefully sucked in with her mouth. Striker winced with pain realizing that Greenery was kissing the wound the quasit have given him. She wasn’t actually kissing it though, she was sucking the poison from it. The feeling of the poison rushing back out of the wound caused Striker to quiver slightly.

Once all the poison had been draw from the wound Striker gave a relieved sigh as he felt Greenery’s divine healing flow into the wound sealing it shut. Pulling away from Striker, Greenery spit out the poison, shivered at the taste and wiped her mouth dry across her armor.

Striker raised a hoof to the wound, but felt only smooth unblemished fur under his hoof. “Thanks, you saved my life there.”

“You’re welcome, but I didn’t save your life. A quasit’s poison paralyzes its victim, so it can keep playing with the pony I guess.” Greenery answered grimly as she looked down at the fallen mare, blood pooled from the gaping wound in her throat.

“I’m sorry Greenery, we did everything we could,” Striker tried to assure her. Greenery didn’t respond and simply continued to stare down at the dead mare.

“Please,” The pair looked up and saw the other mare, she had a yellow coat and a purple mane, staring at them with pleading eyes. The stallions still huddled shaken behind her, “I know we attacked you and have no right-”

“Stop it, that wasn’t your fault!” Greenery cut her off sharply, a little less reassuring than she had intended to be. But Greenery could see that the fear in her eyes was about something beyond what had happened here. “What is wrong?”

The mare tried to speak but tears filled her eyes and she choked for a moment on her words, before forcing out. “My daughter! Before you arrived a mare and a pair of stallions came. They wore strange vestments and had wicked bull’s head pendants hanging around their necks. They spoke to the demons in some awful tongue and the demons gave up my daughter to them.”

“Cultists…” Greenery practically hissed, a venous hate coming over her face.