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Post by Klepto Moonlit on Nov 2, 2013 14:19:57 GMT -5
The torch had made direct contact with its target, sending him sliding along the floor. Not only that, but several of the bolts had made their way into the griffon as well. It would have been reason to celebrate had the twitching monstrosity not picked himself up like nothing had happened. It seemed a severe lack of brain cells made it hard for nerve endings to get the point across.
So what, was he supposed to just keep pincushion-ing this thing until it fell apart? There had to be a smarter way to go about this, but right now wasn't the time to try and think of it. The griffon was just standing there like an idiot, and there was no way Klepto was going to pass up that opportunity to get another hit in. The thief tugged again at the metal bit of his battle harness, hoping to send more bolts into his attacker. Maybe he'd get lucky and hit one of his eyes or something.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Nov 10, 2013 20:55:07 GMT -5
The griffon lumbered forward, effigy raised to strike, just as Klepto bit into the trigger of the battle harness. The bolts fired true and struck the griffon twice in the chest and neck. The secretary griffon stumbled , reacting to the force of the bolts - he suddenly appeared weak, his talon dropped the fetish as he stammered forward a few more steps. He reached out for Klepto with his filthy, blood flaked talon, grabbing at the pony's vest. "Story..." He gurgled out with spats of blood from his beak. "Fin..ish... it." He let Klepto go with a push, standing over him, streaming blood from his mouth.
He ripped out the bolt from his chest, throwing it down at Klepto. He tugged at the one in his neck, but it wouldn't budge. The sickly sound of metal on bone and sinew creapted its way out from the griffon's body, like talons on a hellish, fleshy chalk-board. The griffon gave up, letting his talon fall, before stumbling and collapsing backwards into the pile of iron snakes. He sat there, like a king in a rusty, forgotten throne. His two predatory eyes staring with hunger and pain at the pony. He tried to push himself back up off his haunches, but only to collapse back down.
His breathing became shallow and sunken, labored with the vice of blood slowly chocking life from him while the rest ran free from the wounds. He raised his right talon, pointing to Klepto and stuttered out inaudible words, before his back fell against the pile of iron snakes as he grew still except for the occasional labored breath and those piercing, staring eyes.
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on Nov 11, 2013 19:11:49 GMT -5
Klepto could only stand and watch as the monstrous griffon dropped its weapon, staggering towards the thief and grabbing his vest. "Hey, talons off, crowny." He would of brushed the griffon's hand off, but the thing backed off after trying to get out a word or two, blood spewing from its mouth like a fondue pot.
The sound it made as it tried to rip the bolt from its neck almost made Klepto cringe, but at least it gave up and sat down against the pile of iron snakes. Its failure to pull itself back up from the pile might have been an indication it was down for the count, but no. This thing had almost turned Klepto into soup. There was no way he was gonna turn its back on it until it was good and dead.
The thief approached the mostly motionless bird, sizing it up before settling on how to take care of the task. Taking a few steps closer, the earth pony reared back onto his hind legs before falling forward, using all his weight to smash his hoof into the ridge of the griffon's head, just above the eye. He'd repeat the exercise as many times as he needed to, until he was absolutely positive the life was gone from the creature.
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Nov 14, 2013 22:53:52 GMT -5
Klepto was grabbed from behind by a pair of strong talons that pulled him from his bucking of the mad griffon’s head. “That’s enough. He’s already dead.” Feathermain said as he kept his grip on Klepto, holding him back from any more outbursts. Just then, the bucked griffon let out a rattling gasp from its pulverized skull, “BUCK IT AGAIN!” Screeched Feathermain as he released his grip on Klepto and stumbled back, away from the body. Awkwardly, realizing how absurd his outburst was for a griffon such as he was, he attempted to regain his composure. “I mean, he’s done for. Good job Klepto. If he hadn’t got the drop on me… and dropped something on me, I would have helped, post-haste!” The griffon boasted. Feathermain stopped for a moment and looked over the corpse, and then it occurred to him. He knew who this is, or rather, was. “Isn’t this unexpected, that’s the late King’s advisor, Loci.” He explained, “Bird always was always wrong in the head. Thought he was executed though, oddly peculiar. Anyway, I think we’re done here. I believe there’s a door somewhere up there.” He motioned towards where Loci had emerged from where the faintest glimmer of light broke through the darkness of the vault.
Feathermain scrambled up the hill of snake effigies for a running start, before taking flight towards the light. The pile was high enough to reach the ledge for Klepto. “Forward, noble thieving pony!” Faithermain called from the ledge above, “I’ve acquisitioned an airship for us to leave this sandy place, it should be here by now. And the sooner we leave, the sooner we can regale the fairer folk of our adventure here! I can picture it now…” His voice trailed off as he swung the hidden door open, letting the light wash through the vault and carried forward.
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on Nov 16, 2013 15:31:49 GMT -5
"Wait, we're not going to even *hic* look through the rest of this stuff?" Klepto called. Seriously, all Feathermain had really done was dig through the pile of iron snakes. Didn't he at least want to check if there was anything valuable somewhere else in the room, and not just resign this whole adventure to being a big waste of time? Even if everything else was just old, useless junk, a museum might pay top bit for some of it. And wasn't Feathermain's income based on selling old, useless junk?
If he wasn't concerned Feathermain would leave him behind in the desert, the thief would have taken the time to look through the room himself. Except Feathermain had done just that not too long ago, and left him in the talons of a deranged ex-ex-King's advisor. Well, even if he couldn't convince Feathermain to look for anything valuable in the room, Klepo sure wasn't going to be leaving empty-hoofed. The thief quickly darted over to the vases, picking up the ancient charm he had been looking at earlier and taking it with him.
The thief then ran back and climbed up the pile of snakes, past the now dead Loci but waiting to jump up onto the ledge. "Seriously, there could be some treasure maps or something within those scrolls," he called again. "And don't you want to take at least one of those artifacts? As *hic* proof that we even came here?"
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Dec 10, 2013 2:08:18 GMT -5
Feathermain peeked out from the once secret entrance, shooting Klepto a rolling of the eyes followed by an exasperated sigh. "Oh, of course not, I snagged plenty of 'loot' while you were finishing up that Loci fella'... did... I fail to mention that? Terribly sorry, age and not wanting you to burden yourself with the knowledge that, as a what we typically call a 'pack pony' - you, being of the earth and all, that you would be stuck carrying it back to the airship!" Feathermain cheerfully explained as he swung the stone door wide open, revealing several sacks teaming with loot pilfered from the ruins.
Three large sacks, overstuffed with scrolls, snake effigies, shiny bobbles, ancient curiosities, and a strange assortment of nick-knacks were there, waiting to be carried out of the ancient temple. "This should repay my debts, maybe some left over for the both of us to share... seventy-thirty." He mumbled, "Ah, but what an adventure. That's the true reward we should take from this. I'd say that Daring-Do (the phoney, she is), would be jealous of our exploits! And imagine what the hens... and mares would think!? We're going to be very popular. Well... I will be, not sure the coughing thing will help you in that department, but what does that matter? With these artifacts, we can probably afford you some-sort of treatment. Be right as rain once you get to Canterlot." Feathermain ruffled his chin feathers with a talon, "That is if it hasn't been destroyed, that city has the absolute worst luck. Anyway, we have an airship to catch. Onward-ho!" The griffon rallied, charging forward with one sack of pilfered goods in talon, leaving two more behind for Klepto to take with. He even stopped after a few feet to glance back and coax with his arms for Klepto to snap to it and drag the sacks with him. In an odd act of strange kindness, Feathermain did only leave the ones with odds and ends and scrolls for the pony to take, still, they must have appeared daunting in Klepto's current state.
Feathermain also failed to mention, aside from the goods, that it would be a several mile trek, through sand and blistering sun, to the spot the airship was to pick them up. Tally-ho!
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on Dec 11, 2013 21:15:37 GMT -5
Klepto glanced over at the overflowing sacks after Feathermain swung open the door, then glanced back at griffon. "Gee, thanks." The thief hopped up onto the ledge, trotting over to the sacks to get a peek inside. "Yeah, you take the thirty and *hic* I'll take the seventy. Good deal."
The pony chuckled at Feathermain's mention of this adventure making them popular. "Mares are allured by the whole caution-to-the-wind, *hic* adventuring lifestyle aren't they? As long as the docs can patch me and up and these hicups go away, I'll be a downright casanova." The thief looked out into the desert. "Probably gonna skip Canterlot. Not much reason to go with the *hic* war and all. Might head to Trottingham, see what it has to offer."
The thief let out a sigh, picking lifting the two sacks onto his back and catching up with Featermain. "Of course, if you wanted to hire me as an advertiser there I'd be *hic* happy to oblige. Could get ya a lot more foot traffic. Plus I've got a great story to tell. Some folks love a good story."
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Dec 11, 2013 23:43:41 GMT -5
“Sixty-forty it is, then!” Feathermain retorted, “After all, you did try to rob me blind. Don’t think I forgot, and don’t try to blame Rainlock on it. I may hate her with the burning passion of fifty Celestia suns, but I know she’s not the type to rob a bird blind.” And thus the reason for dragging Klepto along was slowly made apparent. “That is squarely in the realm of certain ponies with sticky hooves.” He looked back to Klepto and winked knowingly.
As they trudged forward, Feathermain continued his observational rant, “Furthermore, WAIIITTT, did my ears deceive me? More foot traffic? Why yes, I’d certainly like some more foot traffic. What exactly did you have in mind?” Feathermain was genuinely intrigued, his eyes practically turning to bit signs. “What could a pony possibly say to get my shop its much due attention? Is it magic? Not sure I trust magic…”
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on Dec 15, 2013 0:15:10 GMT -5
"Sticky hooves? I prefer the *hic* -the term opportunistic," Klepto jested. "I mean, if you wanted to send me some fliers and a pay check every other week, I could *hic* try and raise some interest in your little shop."
"And, if my opportunistic hooves ever happened upon an object that could be passed off as *hic* a priceless artifact, I could send it to you and we split the profit. Seventy-thirty."
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Dec 18, 2013 0:16:40 GMT -5
“Seventy-thirty? You drive a hard bargain!” Feathermain retorted once more, “After all, a pony with sticky hooves certainly would not want to get on the wrong side of the sitting Grand Master of the Lodge of Exotic Hunters. You know, being the predatory species we griffons naturally are. Why, I hear that pony is leaner than beef and more subtle in flavor – doesn’t sound all that bad.” Feathermain’s stoic voice was nearly indecipherable in tone. Was he joking? Was the subtle lick around the edge of his beak a taunt? “So, seventy-thirty…” He said as he turned to the pony, talon outstretched in a business-like fashion, “You find, I sell, we split and no one gets turned into a pot-roast."
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Post by Klepto Moonlit on Dec 19, 2013 0:01:52 GMT -5
"Sounds like a- *hic*... like a deal," Klepto answered, shaking Feathermain's talon. "But if the first thing you think of when ya see a pony is pot roast, you might wanna see a shrink. You could be next candidate for crazy desert king. And I'd *hic* hate to smash your face in on a pile or iron snakes."
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Post by Stygg Whitefeather on Dec 24, 2013 18:41:58 GMT -5
Feathermain broke into a soft chuckle as he shook Klepto’s hoof, “Saw right through that, didn't you? You’re cleverer then you look.” He scratched under his beak, “Suppose that’s better than looking cleverer than you are.” He muttered as he pondered the revelation. “Ah, look at that! Our vessel awaits my collapsed lung miniscule equine friend!”
A shadow washed over the two as an airship came to rest in the sky above them, idling, just as Feathermain had promised. From over the side, a dowager griffoness appeared waving a handkerchief. She called to Feathermain, who bowed in response. “My lady, have the crew throw us a line so we may bring up our spoils!”
Suddenly, an anchor dropped right between Feathermain and Klepto, nearly crushing both. “Close enough. Klepto, toss our ‘swag’, as you colts say, across the anchor’s fluke there and let’s get out of this sad, sorry excuse for a sand box. Dying to see what I actually swiped, and who knows, perhaps there’s something of actual worth hidden somewhere in these sacks – not like that silly trinket I saw you take before Loci decided drop in.”
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