Anonberich Von Mussberg, Witch Hunter

Anonberich

It's only partially alarming how quickly the little striped creature's abode slips away into the dense shadows, the selected path threatening to swallow him whole in this murky, swirling fog. The surrounding woods were equal in the grim and greyness they exuded. This was no place for true, good life.

It seemed whatever was lurking in the shadows was intent on remaining nearby for the foreseeable future... unfortunate. Eyes, glowing and furrowed, followed him from the deepest shadows all while glaring at the flickering flames of his torch, kept away by it's threatening embers. Evil was deeply saturated in this forest, its claws gripped in tightly. The source would need to be expunged, and likely in a brutal fashion.

Anonberich crosses a bend, slowly rounding a large cliff-face from the bottom, staring upwards. Until he could learn the significance of the local flora, or found the time to experiment within a neutral setting, he gave it all a wide berth. Especially the very bright, blue flowers that sat in coiled bunches. Something about how bright they were in contrast... alarmed him.

The path pitters out here. He'd likely need to cut the long way around the cliff... it was a sizable berth. It would take some time. He's about to shift his pack, and push onwards and around, when his ear catches something.

He could hear something, distant, far, muffled. Coming from above, atop the cliffs. More of those wood-wolf creatures barking. Normally, one would best avoid... but if something roused the latent evil in these woods, and were willing to lead Anonberich right to them... Anonberich doubted they made such noises for little reason. A swift and total crushing was in order.

Resolute in his new choice of action, Anonberich let's his stare wander upward, along the cliffs and rocks. Foothold. Places to hammer in a support. It may take some time, but...

His brow furrows, as his ear picks out... a yell, between the barking and snarling, ever so muffled. So quiet, so distant.

His gaze upon the cliffs alters, now driven by urgency; slowly it rounds the surface of the cliff. What parts of it he can see through the fog, anyhow. A slant, steep incline. It takes a few moments to select the part of it that lacks it's steepest nature... an awkward, craggy break in its surface is soon found, nestled between the larger rocks, offering numerous holds and cracks. He could climb this, if he was careful.

He stifles his torch, the fog growling as the flames dissipate, moving quick.

Starlight, Spike, Apple Bloom

It had spared them moments, but not nearly enough -- a fresh streak of leaking crimson carved across her side, splitting her cutie mark.

Starlight overloaded her shield with the remnants of her magic, bursting it like a bubble; the shockwave sent the Timber Wolves flying, buying them precious seconds.

At the cost of a throbbing pain that now coursed through her skull, her horn bearing a new crack. The tip was darkened with strain, akin to a bruise -- and she did her best to stifle the searing pain that saturated her side as she freely bled. Starlight hoped, and prayed, that Zecora had some bandages.

But... she deserved it. For the horrid thoughts that she had when considering her options.

How she considered leaving Spike and Apple Bloom to save herself.

That was how she used to think -- only for herself. But she was Princess Twilight's student now. Starlight could only imagine Twilight's disappointment if she found out her hesitation. She had to be better. This was pain she deserved for even considering it.

Apple Bloom is slumped over Starlight's back, gasping for pained breath. Spike was running beside her, trying his best to make sure she doesn't fall off. The trio dart through the Everfree, desperately dodging trees, roots, bushes -- and the lingering, roaming shadows that whispers and crawled from the fog.

The Timber Wolves were not far behind them. They could hear their growls and howls, claws tearing through the dirt as they gained on them. Roots were torn up, bushes ripped apart, the trunks of trees used to launch off of. They were gaining, and quickly.
"S-starlight! They're getting closer! What do we do?!" Spike yells, watching behind them with fear.

A last ditch gamble to get to Zecora's. If they couldn't, they would die.
"Starlight?!" Spike begs, now looking to her.

Another guilty thought, buried deep. He's a child, Starlight -- why did you bring him?! He acts mature, sure, but he's basically a foal, like Apple Bloom. You should have expected this... you dragged two foals to the woods to be devoured by Timber Wolves, Starlight.

Starlight's lungs are on fire, the pain from her injury, the stress from overusing her magic, the weight of Apple Bloom... the corners of her vision darken, her throat raw as it gasps for more air. It's too much.

Up ahead and closing fast, the trees start to thin, their oppressive branches that loom and leer getting thinner. An opening? A clearing? Starlight begged Celestia that it was something, anything that would offer them a chance, a gap to get distance. To catch their breath. Anything.

They burst from the tree line, panic wrenching on their faces as they come sliding to a stop. It's a cliff. A harsh, steep drop by near a hundred hooves.

Starlight feels a pit drop in her stomach. If she hadn't been burning out on her magic so harshly, trying to find Trixie, she'd have enough. To just teleport them, or float them down now. Or Tartarus, just to have done it from the start.

But this is nothing but a drop to another section of the woods. She can't even see Zecora's from here... the fog sweeps and looms, coating the canopy and making distinction impossible. Even Spike's face falters, tears welling in the corners of his eyes.

They turn slowly, back to the tree line as their pursuers emerge. Snarling, sap dribbling from their barky teeth, blood still fresh upon their wooden claws. Slowly, six of these creatures emerge from the fog, the woods, spreading in a cautiously confident semi-circle, growling and chuffing to each-other. Likely the only reason they hadn't been rushed, is their assumption Starlight still had some of her magic, and that she might try to pull something.

Starlight and Spike finally share a mutually worried look -- and a pang of guilt settles in her chest as Spike sees just how burnt out and at the end of her wits she truly is.

He presses against her side, wrapping his small claws around her and Apple Bloom, sniffling.

The Timber Wolves are closing in, sharpened paws rending the loose grass as they near. Merely hooves away and closing, their glowing eyes betwixt with shadowy vapor.

"I'm sorry, Spike... this is my fault. I shouldn't have brought you." Starlight manages, her words nearly getting caught in her throat as her own emotions finally rise, the hopelessness settling. They could... jump. Would that be swifter? Kinder? An end she could condemn Apple Bloom to?

"No, Starlight! I chose this too. We'll... figure something out, right? There's always an option. Always a way." Spike retorts fruitlessly, his brave words meaning little when she can feel him trembling and shaking against her.

Apple Bloom holds Starlight's back tight, hooves wrapped around her underbelly as the filly clings firmly.

The Timber Wolves close in further. If Starlight had any magic left, she would have used it by now. They know it.

"I'm so sorry, Spike. I... I wish I..." Starlight trails off, choking softly, closing her eyes. She's too scared to walk backwards, to take that one step. Her eyes shut, bracing for their teeth, their claws... would her body save Apple Bloom, if Starlight fell first? Would Zecora find her?

Oh, Trixie. Where did you go?

...

"Starlight?" She can hear Spike whisper.

She slowly opens one of her eyes, glancing to him.

The Wolves are... still. Their backs are hunched, and they've paused, growling. That isn't the sound of a confident hunter. That's...

"Starlight. What is that?" Spike asks, gently pressing her side, pointing behind them. At the cliff?

Starlight turns, unsure of what could possibly...

That's a hat.

No, there's a creature, half-hanging off the cliffs. It's pulling itself up from over the lip of the edge, grasping the very rock itself as it climbs.

Anonberich Von Mussberg

His fingers find little issue surmising cracks and holds in the surprisingly soft stone, pushing upward with each new step and foothold he takes. At least on this rockface, the eyes that watched from the shadows were distant and below, the branches that offered them disguise now distant. For the first time since entering this forest, he felt alone, sat exposed on the side of this cliff. A gentle breeze, an open sky...

Now, no longer contained under the harsh canopy, what ails this world is clear. Hanging from the cliff, Anonberich spares himself a distant, skyward stare. An Eclipse, of sorts. It does not harshen the eyes when stared upon, but fills his chest with... cold. Magic was at work here, so deeply seeded into this land that the very functions of the world were twisted and altered. He would sorely need answers; the book could only offer so many.

This feeling of being alone, and secure on this cliff, was not a sentiment that Anonberich let himself slip into. To allow himself a false sense of safety would be a folly. Gritting his teeth, he faces the cliff again. Something capable of flight could just as easily emerge, or any manner of ill surprises. Anonberich doubted that Zebras would be the strangest thing he finds. He stays cautious, and ready.

Another foothold, another lift, as he pushes onward to grant himself another few feet upwards. A slow process, but caution was proving useful. Falling would quickly mean his death, or an injury that would leave him victim to the creatures prowling these woods. As much as he would have liked to prepare a proper anchoring, established a rope... this was not the time for it. Something was occuring.

The voices were getting closer the higher he got. They sounded near the cliff -- and not alone, if the barking and growls that equally grew louder were anything to go by.

They sounded worried, panicked. More of these Zebras? Already?

While the one... Zecora, had mentally braced him for oddity, Anonberich was truthfully unprepared for what lay atop it's climb, starting to heave himself up its lip. One hand flings up and over, digging into the grass for friction as he lifts himself.

Three very colorful creatures are the first things to greet his eyes. Two matched the entry for 'Ponies' he'd skimmed earlier while looking for 'Zebras', one a significant amount of purple with a blue streak cutting through its hair, the other smaller, yellow and red. Both lacked the markings the Zebra held, but were similar in stature, being Waist-height creatures. Also unlike the Zebra, one bore a strange marking upon its rear, though the yellow one that sat on the others back was small. A child? Both were injured and freely bled from their sides. The third creature was... some kind of stunted baby wyvern? Anonberich recognized draconian features, but was entirely unfamiliar with such an oddly shaped thing, the way it stood on it's back legs.

Past them, and their wide-eyed, surprised stares -- and likely the culprits for their injuries -- were a recently familiar, notably hostile sight. What looked to be the rest of the pack of those strange wooded wolves, like the one he had put down on the villages edge.

Slowly, the three creatures of a profanity bright color turn to watch him, eyes glued to him as they stand frozen. They mutter between each other in a hushed, worried tone, the Wolf-like creatures behind them spreading out to size him up.

No matter. His concern was the vileness behind these 'Pony' things, crawling from the depths of the forests darkness. Those and their intent, he was familiar with. The way that shadows wished from their glowing eyes... such was unnatural for a druidic creature, and the natural form was their entire focus. There was but one solution.

One of cold, forged steel.

Starlight, Spike, Apple Bloom

Starlight had never seen, nor heard of a creature like this. For a moment, what little room left she has emotionally fills with a new, tense dread -- but her familiarity with particular individuals with a habit for dressing oddly has her pick up on something. This creature definitely was not of the Everfree, not the way it was geared.

It scales onto the cliff alongside them, forcing them to decide between being right beside this new unknown, or inch closer towards the Timber Wolves.

It's... tall. Towers over them. But it's gaze, hidden under the wide brim of a hat... it stares only at the Timber Wolves.

Spike, sweet Spike, tries to put himself between it and Starlight, holding his arms out.

It glances down at him, and huffs quietly in placid interest.

The biped unclasps a worn, sturdy pack made of odd materials from itself, and drops it at their hooves. It's heavy, and rattles with...

Starlight's eyes widen. Tonics, potions, bandages, salves, surgical tools, vials, rags... as well as weapons of steel, a bedroll, a waterskin...

Starlight barely has a chance to glance up from the sudden supplies, and it's already stepping directly over them. In a single stride, with legs longer than their body, Starlight and Spike flinch down as it vaults them, and puts itself between themselves, and the Timber Wolves. It messes with it's gloves, before pulling a sap-stained hatchet from its belt.

It lowers its stance, holding the axe aloft. The other limb, holds outward, nubbed claws like Spikes poised to grab. The Timber Wolves snarl, challenged by the recently arrived element to the situation.

"Starlight, is he a friend?" Spike asks with confusion, looking to her for answers.

Only, Starlight has no answers. Only questions. She's breathing heavily, trying to focus. Carefully, they lower Apple Bloom off of Starlight's back and down onto the grass, huddled together as they try to inspect the fillies injury.

Starlight grimaces, teeth grit. She had a loose idea of medicine, but... well, her overreliance on magic was biting her in the flank right now. A worried glance at Spike spurs him.

"Oh! Uh... Twilight had me read some first-aid books! Mostly for paper cuts, but I remember most of it. First, we need to... clean it, and then stop the bleeding." Spike quickly explains, looking to the bag dropped in front of them.

There's a lot of stuff. It's quickly overwhelming.

"Spike, reading about --"

There's a snarl, followed by a disgusting thud of wet wood being split, cutting the growl short. A thud, and distant, upset noises.

Spike is looking past her, eyes wide, lip trembling. Starlight reaches out, pulling his attention back to her.
"Spike. Focus. I need... I need your help."

Spike snaps out of it, nodding quickly. "Right. We... take some bandages, and --"

"Dab, do not wipe, thy wounds clean with fresh bandage, and discard thee bloodied materials. A most pungent green salve in thee round jar. Tis a curative; smear upon thy injuries, and wrap tightly." The creature suddenly cuts in, between measured, calm breaths, startling them both.

Starlight grants herself a quick look behind herself, the same view she denied Spike -- the creature is still squaring off with the other Timber Wolves, the sixth laid still under its... hoof? The twisted shadows are gone from it's eyes, and it slowly crumbles into loose twigs and chunks of bark. A slow wisp of darkness seeps from it, twisting into the fog.

Apple Blooms strained breath pulls her back.
"Spike. Find the salve." She quickly instructs, fighting through and ignoring her own pain. She barely knew what was going on, and a pounding headache pulsed through her head from her horn... but they had been spared a moment thanks to this creature, and couldn't afford to waste it.

Spike starts rummaging through the pack, pulling out what they need. There are several tonics, vials and salves jammed inside, carefully organized and cushioned. They vary in color, viscosity and size... Spike freezes as he finds a particular pouch.

"Spike, the salve. Spike...?" Starlight mumbles.

Spike snaps out of it, quickly finding the green salve. He pops the cap with some struggle, and a powerful, herby smell punches the air.

Another snarl. This time, a delay... a pair of thuds. A sickening flurry of sap-spilling crunches can be heard, as Starlight swears she just got splattered by some. But she keeps her focus on Apple Bloom, and instructs Spike to do the same.

Starlight keeps Apple Bloom distracted, as the brave little filly does her best to put on a strong face despite the tears that wet her cheeks. Apple Bloom is barely aware of her surroundings, breath shallow.

It's a morbid rhythm, neither step pleasant. Each time they progress in handling one of their injuries -- Apple Bloom's cut on her flank, and the laceration along Starlight's side -- another dull, sickening thud. Or the sappy, gooey crack of bark, or a snarl or bark, cut short into a muted whimper.

Apple Bloom is bandaged reasonably, for the moment. And as Spike aids Starlight, wrapping fresh coverings around her body, Spike's eyes suddenly widen.
"Duck!" He shouts, grabbing Starlight -- they both flinch downwards, as the snarling, writhing shape of a Timber Wolf soars over their heads, nearly taking them both off with it before bouncing off the edge of the cliff. It's howl is long, winded, and grows quiet as it falls.

There's a delayed, distant crunch as it hits the fogged ground deep below. Starlight's head snaps back towards the forest line, and the strange creature.

It's hatchet and limbs are soaked in dripping sap, but looks none the worse for wear. As far as she knew, it used no magic. It physically took on a pack of half a dozen Timber Wolves... and now it's rubbing the dribbling, bloodlike substitute off of its weapon, and itself.

Anonberich

These Wooden Wolves were a problem, and a nuisance all in one. Their 'King' as the book claims, was likely the issue here. But... the depiction lacked whatever was occurring to their eyes. Holding the damaged head of a now limp Timber-Wolf, Anonberich watches as darkness slowly seeps out of its eyes, that glowed but moments prior. It ebbs back towards the forest, merging with the shadows.

Something had likely usurped their natural structure, and uses them.

He stands, wiping the hatchet on the side of his cloak, ogling the three small, colorful creatures from under the brim of his moonlit hat.

Anonberich considers demanding their names... but they look as panicked as the Zebra he'd found not long ago, staring at him with trembling, fearful eyes.

In need. It seemed many of the denizens of this strange land were.

They're burdened with injury, the little scaled one still places itself between them. Admirable.

The biggest one of them, which is about the size of the Zebra, meaning up to his waist, is an off-purple color and bleeding heavily from the flank. Claw marks rake its side, dribbling crimson. Seems they bleed like people, and speak like people. And compared to things that bleed tree-sap... things that bleed blood may be the only friends he has here.

The smallest is a bright yellow, with a very similar injury. Though on it's smaller frame, the effect is far more devastating, reaching from leg to midsection. The way these things are colored... is that Aposematism? Do the Wolves not bite them because they're poisonous to consume? Do Wooden Wolves even need to eat?

No matter, not the time or the place. He held no intention of eating them, and their wounds were still open. Either they lacked the usual medical fair, which shouldn't be right -- the Zebra has tonics and potions as well -- or they lack the basic understanding themselves.

"Unversed in Medicine?" Anonberich prompts, watching them flinch as he speaks. Perhaps his height was an issue? He kneels down, knee to the grassy ground of this cliff.
"Those are significant injuries. Tending must be made a swift priority, especially on thy child."

"O-oh, no, she's not mine. Well, that kind of sounds worse now that I say that out loud, but... we had a good reason. I swear." The purple one speaks. She's nervous, but pushes through her fear.

"Relation matters little to the blood seeping from her side. If thou lacks the means, I shalt assist. Lay, and hold still. Little scaled one -- fetch them sticks to bite. This shalt not be painless."

"I won't let you hurt them!" The little dragonoid rebuffs, throwing its equally little arms out.

"Then there is no issue, for such is not my intent. If thou has no desire for my aid, perhaps the Zebra may assist. Though she is..." Anonberich hums, scratching his chin. She may still be resting...

"W-What did you do to Zecora?" The purple one shouts, pushing itself to a widened stance -- though it takes noticable effort.

"Cured her of... 'Swamp Fever', if I've thee name correct."

"What? That's not possible. There's no cure! You couldn't have."

"To remain accurate, I did not. I brute-forced the symptoms with a tonic born of far harsher ingredients, that would wrest the Fevers place in thee body, but leave much more desired side-effects." Anonberich explains, tucking the hatchet back into his belt.

"You... really?"

"Thee little one needs help."

"Who are you? Why are you here?"

"Anonberich Von Mussberg. In the simplest of terms, I hunt evil. Help is also within my means, but not if we remain idle."

The larger pony, and the little scaled one, share a nervous look.

They finally turn to Anonberich, and tentatively nod.

Anonberich, Starlight Glimmer, Apple Bloom, Spike

The littlest one is Apple Bloom. A child, who accompanied them without warning. Her injuries are severe... but the Timber Wolves do not utilize a poison or anything of that worrying caliber on their claws. She should recover.

Anonberich cleans out her injuries, wrapping well over half the little thing in bandages.

Next is the bigger one. Starlight Glimmer, as she introduces herself, is a Unicorn and student to a Twilight Sparkle. Her injury isn't great either, having ripped deep into flesh, and will need proper stitching. For the moment, however, cleaning and a firm bandage. This was hardly the place.

And finally, her friend, Spike. He is, in fact, a Dragon... but a juvenile. Uninjured but tired, and tormented by what has been witnessed. Anonberich doesn't blame the little creature, but keeps an eye on it.

"Ponyville, our home... it's entirely overrun." She says, watching Anonberich work. He's tying a rope around Apple Bloom, and tugging at it.

"Monsters?" Anonberich questions.

"...Ponies. Twisted and turned." Starlight states somberly.

"I see. And thou left to seek aid for thy cause? From thee Zebra"

"Yes, with Zecora. She's a Shaman in these woods, but from what you said... well, the Everfree was already dangerous. Now it is far, far more so. I'm just glad she's alive..." Starlight sighs, holding her head in her hooves. She's clearly exhausted, the horn on her head looking... burnt.

"Princess Twilight is in a Coma, from trying to solve this Eclipse. It's the work of Nightmare Moon." Spike explains.

Anonberich's gaze casts upward again, squinting at the time-locked solarity.

"...Save thee rest for later. We're to return to Zecora's home, and recoup. By what thee say, this 'Ponyville' is hardly a place of safety." Anonberich hazards -- before tying Apple Bloom around his torso, strapped to his chest. A soft, warm little creature that leans into him, mumbling.

...Hm. Anonberich tugs at his coat, covering more of it.

"I... wait, do you want to go back down the cliffs?"

"I do. Ist this problematic?" Anonberich questions.

"I don't... my magic. It's limited. I've used too much of it." Starlight sighs. She's... tired. Celestia, she's so tired. And yet, she had to do more.
"Spike..."

"I can find my own way down, don't worry about it! We'll figure something out for you, okay Starlight?" Spike prompts, trying to remain some level of confident. It unfortunately doesn't seem to spread easily.

Magic. Anonberich isn't unfamiliar with the term... but a further explanation at a better time would be demanded.

Starlight watches as Anonberich ties a long length of rope around one of the less-scary looking cliffside trees, tugging it taut and giving it a few testing pulls.

She then yelps as Anonberich picks her up, holding her against himself, other arm wrapped in the rope.

Spike's eyes are wide as he walks backwards off the cliff, swinging downward.
"Starlight!" Spike shouts, running to the edge.

They're barely a foot below the lip, Anonberich's feet pressed again the cliff-face.
"Thou said thine can get down yourself? Climb down after me. We've much to discuss at thee Zebra's." He states simply, starting to rappel downwards.

Starlight clings for dear life, no magic to cushion her fall, grasped in the tight arm of a stranger. Apple Bloom rocks back and forth on the edges of consciousness, mumbling. Spike quickly scrambles to the rope, trying to figure out how to scale it.

The impromptu group are quick to move, mostly because Anonberich won't remain idle, quickly taking the forested path back to the shamans.