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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 6, 2013 16:01:20 GMT -5
Klepto almost couldn't believe it. The world had left him behind for three weeks, spitting him back out into the realm of consciousness after a three week departure. Selenia, Hind Sight, they were both long gone. And now he was alone, with only the clothes on his back to call his own. He had lived this way before, but now he felt... broken.
The hapless thief's last clear memory was getting shot by one of Rainlock's big, armored goons. After that things started getting fuzzy, pictures of what he was seeing overrun by struggling and gasping for air as he began drowning in his own blood. He could faintly remember Selenia trying to help him, and getting taken to the hospital. He must've passed out somewhere between the trip to the ER and the surgery itself. The only concrete proof he really had was the bandage on his chest and the fact that he was standing outside the hospital.
Klepto blinked tiredly at the city street in front of him. What was he supposed to do? He had nowhere to go, and he certainly wasn't in the spirits to attempt another theft. If anything, he was feeling cruddier than he ever had.
The thief aimlessly walked the streets of Royal Rocks, eventually ending up back at the shopping district. The scene of the crime, where everything had gone from a 7 to an 11.5. There was Featermain's shop: Expedition Enterprises, the last place he'd seen Selenia. Maybe it would be nice to figure out what exactly had happened while he was dying on the floor.
Klepto walked over to the store's door, banging on it with his hoof. "Yo Featherbrain. You in here?" He wasn't sure why he had knocked instead of just entering; it was a store after all. Maybe making a more dramatic entrance felt more appropriate.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on May 6, 2013 19:09:57 GMT -5
The door to Expedition Enterprises suddenly burst open and there at the threshold was Sir Feathermain looking quite frazzled, in his possession was the repeating-crossbow, poised and menacing. He gave Klepto one look, then suddenly snatched him up and dragged him inside, slamming the door behind him. He flipped over the closed sign and the storefront grew unnervingly quiet.
"Were you followed!?" He demanded an answer as he peered from window to window of his shop. The shop was a little different now, the shelves lay bare and everything has been arranged like a bunker in the middle of a battlefield. Directly in front of the main door was a barricade made from what appeared to be an old stuffed hippo. Several crowssbow bolts were embedded in its hide. Scorch marks spotted the walls and ceiling, broken weapons were strewn about. The place just didn't look as if it belonged in a battlefield, it was the center of one.
Feathermain moved from the windows and slide over the side of the stuffed hippo, dragging Klepto with him. He was strong for an old bird. He whipped up his slough hat from the ground and slapped it upon his head - a bolt comically lodged through its side. "Ah, the little pony that nearly ruined me! You look - 'well', yes that's an appropriate term for it!" Feathermain peeked up from the spot, glancing over the hippo.
"So, say again, were you followed by anyone? Pony, Zebra, eh you get the idea. Namely someone well armed and with just a glint of murderous intent in their eyes. They even may have been twirling a mustache - all that cliche villainous behavior." He ducked back down, scrunching up beside Klepto as he checked his crossbow. "Been a rough while since Rainlock decided to have her goons stop by and relinquish you of your breathing ability. Here-" Feathermain tossed a short spear at Klepto. "You may need that if they attempt another breach."
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 6, 2013 21:57:56 GMT -5
Klepto fell back on his rear end when the door burst open, staring in paralyzed shock at the tip of the crossbow pointed directly at him. He could hardly process what had just happened until after Feathermain had yanked him inside and let him go. "Sheesh, dude. I just got shot by one of those things." The thief brushed his jacket off, looking around at the store.
Holy Horseapples, the bird had gone insane. He had emptied the shelves, barricaded the door, and probably tested his weapons on the walls and ceiling. "F-followed? No. No, I mean, not as far as I know." Suddenly Feathermain had yanked him again, this time behind the hippo barricade. "Yes, I'm fine. Well, been better. A lot better, but at least I'm breathing."
Klepto watched as a spear was tossed into his hooves. "Rainlock? You're worried about her?" He took another look around the room before continuing. "What, she didn't send her goons back, did she? I mean, even I'm not this paranoid that she's going to attack me again. And I'm the one her goons shot. Not like she's got a reason to be ticked at you anyway."
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on May 6, 2013 23:34:38 GMT -5
Feathermain looked to Klepto as if he had gone completely daft upon the mention of Rainlock. Wasn't it entirely clear who he was arming himself to the beak against. Surely this pony could not be so naively simple in the head. He'd give him the benefit of the doubt though, perhaps he was hopped up on pain medication, or magic, or whatever it is ponies need to feel better. Maybe alfalfa, the horrible stuff - it must be medicine.
"Rainlock!? Oh heaven no. That's just silly. They're long gone by now - well, they could be back. I did send Mrs. Rainlock a rather biting letter explaining in intimate detail how much she represents the most beastly aspects of a brood mare in heat. But no! This has nothing to do with my passive-aggressiveness; no this is about tax evasion!" Feathermain explained. "Haven't paid the shop's business taxes in years - The Kingdom's Purse finally caught on, now they've come to collect. And by some god of bits and self-righteousness they won't have money I rightfully coned from saps like yourself and your friends - no offense, my good fellow."
Suddenly, there came a knock at the door. Feathermain hunkered lowered and readied his crossbow.
"Hello? Hello? King's -uhm, Kingdom's Purse... no, is that right? Oh whatever. Hello, anyone in there."
Feathermain looked to Klepto and shushed him, speaking in hushed tones. "Let me handle this. Years of hunting have taught me tricks the likes of which a greenhorn such as yourself could hardly comprehend." Feathermain peeked up above his hippo-barricade. "No one home!" Feathermain looked down to Klepto, smugly grinning from the sides of his beak - the clever devil.
"Mr. Feathermain, I know that is you. Now please, can we resolve this like reasonable griffons." Replied the tax agent. He tried to peer in from through one of the windows. A scholarly looking gentle-bird. Eagle, like the royal family, wearing a bowler style cap and seemingly dressed well. Feathermain was right about him having a rather thin and twirl-able mustache however.
"That's SIR Feathermain to you, egg-beak!" Feathermain, realizing his grave error in giving away his presence, sunk back down beside Draft. "Drat, he's a clever one." He whispered.
"Yes, Sir Feathermain. Now you're over a decade delinquent on your business tax, sales tax, royal tax... well, actually you're pretty much delinquent on every tax we have. It's actually rather astonishing - there's several here you owe that aren't even part of our tax law anymore. Now if you would just be willing to negotiate, the Purse is willing to help you resolve these delinquencies in a reasonable fashion. If I am forced to leave again, next time I will bring the guard with me." More bangs on the door, harsher, more commanding. "Sir Feathermain! This is your last warning. Please can we resolve this today or not."
Feathermain gave his reasonable request all the consideration one would to keeping a used bandage. They weren't going to get the better of him, those bits were rightfully his. "See how he speaks evils as sweet nothings? Does his fiendish know no bounds? I have a plan, good-pony. Pay attention." Feathermain stretched his neck and called out. "Good-sir, if you reread form 4010, you'll see that as of last leap year I have paid exactly 3.51 percent on shrubbery tax liens." He glanced down to Klepto, "Ok, there's a back door to this place, take the spear and on my signal."
"Uh, Sir Feathermain, please enough of that nonsense."
Feathermain stumbled in his words before a reply. "I assure you, gentle-bird that I am current on all forestry tolls and I have contributed 130 percent of all retired sales figures back into the Broken Egg Youngster charity!" "Ok now's your chance, go out the back and sneak up on him while he's distracted and plant your spear right between his wings. That's a griffons weak-spot. Now fly, young pony. Murder-ho." He tried ushering Klepto into his web of conspiracy, prodding his flank with his rear-leg as he kept his eyes and crossbow trained on the door.
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 7, 2013 9:31:27 GMT -5
Tax evasion. That's why the bird had set his shop up for an armed invasion, because he didn't want to pay his taxes. "None taken," Klepto responded to the comment about coning saps like himself, rolling his eyes as he did so. Not like he had actually been conned. At the time he was just trying to rack up an expensive bill Rainlock would have to foot. He honestly could've cared less how valuable the items actually were. Price was what was most important.
A knock at the door interrupted Klepto's train of thought. Here was the tax collector, right on time. And here was Feathermain, giving away his presence by stating no one was home. The thief had to resist the urge to smack his hoof against his forehead. He listened for a while to the two's banter, finally realizing that Feathermain wanted to rope him into a plan to get rid of the griffon outside his door. With murder.
Klepto let out a sigh, closing his eyes and pressing his hoof against the bridge of his nose. He wasn't going to stab some griffon in the back with a spear just because this nut-job didn't want to pay his taxes. "Listen, I-"
And then an idea.
"...alright, just keep 'em busy. For like, fifteen minutes maybe. I have a tendency to get lost trying to find back doors." The thief then slipped away from Feathermain, taking the spear with him. It took less than a few seconds until he was at the back of the shop, where he promptly set down the spear and turned away from the back door, instead descending into an all too familiar stairwell. There was no way Klepto could pass up this opportunity, not when it was practically screaming at him to seize it. He'd have a fair share of loot and be out of the store before Feathermain even knew it. The perfect crime.
It didn't take long before he had opened the steel bar door, entering the room filled with all the really rare and valuable stuff Feathermain had on hand (or at least stuff he claimed was rare and valuable). The thief began moving through the aisles, trying to pick out whatever looked the most valuable. And if Feathermain had a "saddlebag of unspeakable power" to hold it all in, that would make things a lot more convenient. Heck, maybe Klepto's own saddlebag was still here. This was the last place he left it, after all.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on May 7, 2013 17:18:44 GMT -5
What Klepto had failed to realize, in his earnest to latch his sticky hooves onto something worth even a few bits, that the storehouse for a rather paranoid and eccentric huntsman griffon was likely the most booby-trapped place in their entire shop. It would also be the first place they'd believe, in the case of Feathermain, that someone seeking to make a return on their owed debt - especially a government, they'd hide their most valuable artifacts from prying and greedy eyes. The vault was in one such condition. The shelves were stripped mostly bare, littered with more dust-bunnies than deitus artifacts.
The rows of shelves that once held some amazing wonders were now left with tsotchkes, babbles, and obvious fakes with flaking paint and dubious origins. None of the items he had shown the group were there, having been hidden away somewhere safe. On the positive side, Klepto's saddle-bags were there, on a shelf with a price tag reading: "Grey Shadow's cursed saddle-bags. 5,000 bits. REDUCED!"
Near to that, there stood a large heavy iron chest. Locked with large chains and a several large locks. Embossed on it was the warning: Warning! Chest contains Evil Serpent God Apophis. Do not open! To the chests side was a 'this end up' tag. The chest was quite large, perhaps it could contain the contents of the vault - as Feathermain did not appear to be the type to be subtle about hiding. Yet, the griffon was perhaps mad enough to have a chest containing an evil snake deity beside a stuffed moose head and old stacks of 'Griffon's Life', a magazine devoted to lurid tales of adventure, glamour photography, and outlandish feats of daring that would make Daring-Do blush with envy.
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 7, 2013 17:49:12 GMT -5
Klepto slowly realized that all the good stuff Feathermain had showed him and Selenia, all the priceless artifacts and mystic relics, were nowhere to seen. The shelves were now mostly empty, with only several knickknacks and obvious fakes to be found. If Featermain had been overselling worthless pieces of junk before, he had been doing a much better job of hiding it then he was now. But on the bright side, maybe that meant the original items really were valuable. Why else would he be hiding them? If Klepto could get his hooves on them, the thief would hit major pay-dirt.
There was his saddlebag, with a price tag and description now on it. "Grey Shadow my hoof," the thief muttered, tossing away the tag and putting his bag back on. He was still bitter about the other thief's much higher level of success. Like he needed a reminder.
"Alright, you crazy bird. Where are you keeping the good stuff?" the thief thought, continuing to navigate the aisles of the vault. Soon he had come across a big metal chest, with chains, locks, the whole get-up. Warning! Chest contains Evil Serpent God Apophis. Do not open! Huh. More like, 'Warning! Don't open this chest and steal all my expensive stuff. -Feathermain' Klepto wasn't one to believe Feathermain was actually housing a serpent god in the chest. Clearly it was where he was hiding everything that had once lined the shelves. Without any hesitation, the thief approached the chest, setting his bag down as he began the process of picking each of the locks.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on May 7, 2013 23:27:08 GMT -5
The locks were quite old, bit rusty and likely haven't been oiled in ages. They ate through picks like an gnoll chomping on bones - snap, snap, snap! But in the end, they gave up, slipping off one after the other, the chains falling onto the floor around it. The main-lock on the chest proved the most difficult, but eventually it gave and snapped open. However, what Klepto failed to check for were traps and the moment the final lock was breached, a loud audible snap pierced the room as a hidden mechanism engaged. From the opposite wall across from where Klepto stood, jimmying open the chest, one of Feathermain's tribal masks expelled a single dart that flew across the room and struck Klepto in his thieving hoof, right in the joint. It may be poisoned, yet other then the mark it made and the pain of being stuck by a flying needle, no other ill-affects befell the pony.
With the chest now unlocked, Klepto was free to peek inside. Meanwhile, upstairs, shouting erupted. Feathermain and the tax agent's discussion had turned into a shouting match over what was and what isn't tax law. Feathermain was continuing to spout legal mumbo-jumbo while the agent shouted back corrections through the door with ever increasing frustration. The griffon must have incredible patience to put up with such nonsense.
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 8, 2013 12:10:19 GMT -5
Klepto ended up goig through several picks before finally getting through the locks. It took a bit more effort to get the last one open, but that only made doing so all the more satisfying. The grinning thief, however, heard a sudden snap from across the room, and soon felt a dart spear itself into his wrist. The thief shook his hoof at the sudden prick, quickly pulling it out with his teeth as soon as he realized what it was.
A dart. What was this, a Daring Do book? Feathermain hadn't been sitting across the room with a dart gun, had he? The sound of the two mustachioed griffons arguing upstairs assured him it wasn't. He needed to hurry up and nab whatever was in this chest and leave. The thief placed both his hooves on the lid, pausing a moment before opening it. "There'd better not be anymore booby traps," the thief thought. He then took a deep breath, holding it in as he lifted the lid of the chest.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on May 8, 2013 17:55:36 GMT -5
The commotion upstairs suddenly grinds to a hault - with a moment of awkward silence followed by the obviously clear sound of a bolt being launched from a crossbow. An ear piercing scream erupted from outside that traveled down into the cellar. "Oh it was an ugly hat!" Shouted the murderous hunter in reply.
As Klepto lifted the lid of the chest, he found huddled within the twisted figure of a snakish creature reaching back out at him. Thankfully for Klepto, whatever it was has been long dead and has subsequently been mummified. It's body was coiled upon itself, wrapped within the confines of the chest, it's upper body had arms and a face. A chimera of some form, left and forgotten in a tiny prison.
"Pony!" Exclaimed Feathermain right behind Klepto. "There you are, you were late and we failed. The griffon remains alive and I have five days now to pay my debts or it's off to the iron hotel for me. Oh, the chest, bully!" Feathermain peered over Klepto, looking down at the shriveled remains. "Never thought I'd get this thing open again - lost the the keys to it after a knife fight aboard a paddle-wheel boat. Threw them at my opponent in a brilliant move of distraction. Ahh, good times. Let's see." Feathermain sighed, "Will you look at that, wasn't much of a god now was he?"
Suddenly, Feathermain reached in with his talon and punched through the papery flesh of the dead naga. "Now where did you leave that map..." He absently asked as he shuffled his talons around inside the body of the snake, shooting dust and dried bits of flesh and bone into the air. "Ahah!" He ripped out his talon, a rolled piece of parchment clasped tightly in his claws. He whipped it open and glanced over it.
"What incredible and thoroughly unlikely of a coincidence you should try and rob from me today!" Feathermain stated, glancing down to Klepto. "You see this here, my little pony? You know what this is? I'll tell you, this is a map to a lost civilization hidden deep under the sands of the Griffon desert. Cliche? I know, but it wasn't so back then, they were a simpler people - simpler times. Ah so, as I was saying, back at the height of it's existence the place that is now a sea of sand was a vast jungle - or was it an ocean. No matter, minor point. So it is said that, well should I say our dried out friend here said before I wrestled into the chest, was that their last king horded an empire's worth of gold, jewels, and forbidden knowledge! Enough treasure to pay off my startling enormous debt! And most exciting of all, it was all protected by a vicious wyrm! Now that is a hunt I want to get my talons on!"
Feathermain quickly rolled up the map, "What say you? Interested in some dangerous and thoroughly unnecessary risks? Should let you know I put you down as confidante should I fail to appear or die before the debt is resolved. Shifting responsibility-ho!"
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 8, 2013 18:44:42 GMT -5
Klepto had lifted the lid of the chest less than an inch open when the sound of Feathermain's crossbow firing echoed its way to the cellar. Klepto stood frozen, stairing at the stairwell for a several seconds while a an agonous scream soon took its place. "Oh it was an ugly hat!" The thief let out the breath he had been holding in in relief. For a moment he thought that Feathermain had just murdered the tax collector, which would have meant anything but good news if Featermain caught the thief in the act.
Without wasting anymore time, Klepto lifted open the lid of the chest, soon becoming visibly crestfallen. Inside were no priceless artifacts, but rather a dead, twisted, mummified snake... thing... Ew. What the hay was this thing?
"Pony!" Klepto turned around, startled by Feathermain's sudden appearance. But he was even more surprised that Feathermain seemed un-phased that Klepto had broken into his chest. Rather he seemed quite glad. "Well you know me, always trying to help people out. That chest looked way too locked up for its own good."
Suddenly Feathermain had plunged his talon into the body of the deceased snake-thing, sending dust and dried out skin shooting into the air and causing Klepto to cough several times. The thief took a step away from the dust cloud, warily watching as Feathermain pulled a piece of parchment out of the thing's body. A map, in fact, to a long lost civilization within the Griffon Desert. Nothing like broken pottery and more mummified bodies to get someone excited. Oh, treasure. That made things more interesting.
"What, you want me to join you on an expedition?" The thief really didn't know what to say. Being invited on another expedition was really the last thing he thought would happen to him. "I mean, I dunno. Last one I went on wasn't that great. All the rooms were filled with junk and pretty much everyone 'cept me got injured in some way or another. And then we got back to Royal Rocks and I just ended up getting shot with a crossbow anyway..." But then again, this wasn't a Rainlock-funded venture. And he'd be going with someone with a lot more experience regarding this sort of thing. Sure Feathermain was a nut, but at least he wasn't like those pansies he and Selenia had to put up with.
Really his biggest concern was going through all the effort for more junk like last time. The dragon was an issue too he supposed, unless it was dead by now. Hopefully that was the case. The thief tapped his chin in thought, unexpectedly agitating his dart-struck wrist. "You know what? Sure. Gold and jewels sound right up my alley. And as long as Rainlock's not involved, I'm in." It wasn't like the alternatives made the choice very difficult now that he thought about it. At least teaming up with Feathermain meant guaranteed meals.
"By the way, that dart thing that was hooked up to those locks, it wasn't poisoned or anything, was it?"
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on May 12, 2013 23:43:31 GMT -5
"Exemplary!" Exclaimed the griffon, clenching his fist in a determined pose. Adventure was now afoot - or ahoof. Dangers the likes of which never has another faced, except for those that had gone before them - but they were likely dead and thus don't factor into the equation. "That's the spirit. I admire a pony who is willing to put their life on the line to acquire arbitrarily valued metals and rocks dug from the soil. Bravo!"
Feathermain put his arm around Klepto and pulled him in close, "Just think, this time tomorrow we'll be getting our hides cooked in the vast wasteland of the far desert, fighting off scorpions the size of your head and snakes that could swallow a pony whole!" He waved his taloned hand across the room as if it were before a vast expanse. "Best yet, Rainlock has no idea! Once we're through with this and return wealthy beyond imagine; then we can go down to Manehatten and flash our backsides at that hag-mare and her manor! Saying, 'Look at us! We have something you don't! Gaze upon our posterior and despair!' She'll probably shoot you in the flank, but it'll be worth it for me."
Feathermain broke his half-embrace and went to slam the chest shut, but paused for a moment, examining the underside. He tilted his head, curiously reading the scratches in the wood from the mummified creature's claws. "Hmmm, 'The Horror, the horror!' Apophis, you always did have a flare for the dramatics. Silly fool." He tapped the corpse upon its dry head causing its neck to crack and head to slough away, rolling into the creature's lap. Feathermain slammed the chest shut and wiped his talons, glancing back to Klepto. "Dart thing? Oh yes! Almost forgot about that deadly little trap." He paused, stone silent for a tense moment. "Deadly for our snake friend, that is. Set that up in case he escaped. Don't worry though, the poison coated on that toothpick is only deadly to reptiles - or so I was told. You don't have a sudden urge to evacuate your insides through your nose do you?"
Feathermain retrieved the crossbow he had set down earlier, resting it over his shoulder. "Go to the the air-docks and find The Nellie, it's an older airship and tell the boatswain that Sir Feathermain is calling in a favor. I'll be there shortly, need to pick up a few supplies then we can be off... FOR ADVENTURE!"
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 13, 2013 15:39:30 GMT -5
Awesome; Klepto and Feathermain were about to set out on a grand old expedition into the desert. Large scorpions, larger snakes, and sunburn was what awaited them. But most important, there was a civilization's worth of gold and jewels to look forward to. That is, if Feathermain was right, of course. And Klepto sure hoped the nutty old bird was.
The thief grinned after Feathermain had wrapped his arm around him and told how they'd rub their success in Rainlock's face. "Are you kidding? We'll probably get our photo on the front page of the Manehattan Times. I'd pay to see Rainlock's reaction when she sits down to her schmancy breakfast and picks up the paper."
Klepto watched as Feathermain fiddled around a little more with the thing in the chest, then assured him that the dart poison was lethal to reptiles only. "Nah, I'm fine. Just wanted to make sure this wasn't the second time I'd need to get taken to the hospital from your shop."
"Air-docks, Nellie, boatswain, favor. Got it," Klepto said picking up his bag. "Just make sure you bring equipment and stuff for the two of us. I don't want to have to fend of scorpions and desert dragons using a cactus." He then trotted up out of the cellar, scampering out of Feathermain's shop and towards the air docks. As more time passed, Klepto was finding it harder and harder to contain his excitement. The prospect of treasure and finally getting back at Rainlock was far more than he had expected coming out of the hospital that morning. Seemed like things were starting to shape up.
The thief had soon entered the airdocks, passing ship after ship in search of the one Feathermain had described. "Nellie, Nellie... c'mon, where is it?" he thought, reading the names printed on each ship as he passed them.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on May 16, 2013 19:43:46 GMT -5
It wouldn't take long for Klepto to find the Nellie as it was possible the most decrepit airship on the entire dock. It's hull was pot-marked and the wood seemed to only hold together by the grace of nest birds and their leavings. The vessel's iron fittings weren't much better, rust having long since taken hold and leaving its supports weakened and creaking like a frail old woman in a bitter winter cold. The ship was a glorified scow that should have been scuttled years ago - amazing the thing was still air worthy, truly a miracle. Her crew scurried about the dock around it, seemingly an unsavory bunch, comprised of a mishmash of the most miserable and foul of griffons. Worse yet was the smell they seemed to emanate, like a cross of rotten eggs and untreated corruption of flesh. Also a hint of lavender oddly enough.
"Ye t'ere!" Scolded a disembodied voice from behind a stack of wooden crates. The voices owner emerged from the side, a quite literally salty griffon with a cliche patch over his left eye and a metal arm replacing the talon on the same side. A ornate hawk-eagle, his rear that of a serval. Unusual combination, but nothing about this ship appeared mundane - nor safe. The cat-bird's crest stood on his head like a mohawk, making him appear taller than he was. He approached, suspiciously. "Is not five o'clock, w'at a mule doing on t'e docks at this hour? A' speak up!" He peered at Klepto, his telescopic eye giving him a most menacing look-over. "Wait a tick-" He switched his eye patch to the other eye, which seemed perfectly fine. "A pony? W'y ye ain't no mule at all! Bah, trying to trick my bad-eye are ye'? W'y I ought'a!" He brandished his arms, suggesting an urge to fight over this rather unintentional transgression. "No one puts one over ol' boatswain Miguel, put em up!"
((OCC: Ok maybe a few more here))
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on May 16, 2013 20:14:01 GMT -5
Very quickly, Klepto had been able to find the ship he was searching for. And wow, what a ship. The thing hardly looked air-worthy, let alone like it would hold together for five seconds. That may have been fine and dandy for griffons, but Klepto was one of the few in this city without wings on his back. The crew looked foul and unwelcoming, and smelled that way too.
The sound of a talking stack of crates diverted Klepto's attention, soon enough bringing him face to face with the ship's captain. The griffon looked like some sort of deranged whale hunter or something. Maybe that's how he had lost the arm. And he could have gotten the mohawk from being struck by lightning, just for good measure. The thief grimaced when the boatswain called him a mule, standing awkwardly as the griffon moved the eye patch to his... other eye...
"Uh, yeah. Listen, Patchy, Feathermain called in a favor. Said you owed him. He wanted me to come down here and tell you. I'm his uh..." The earth pony paused, trying to remember what Feathermain had called him. "Confidante! Yeah, that thing."
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