[FWM] Game of Ponies

[TheAmishPirate]

As much as Riposte wants to tell Sterling where to shove that obviously wrong story... and also Glory's preference towards being dainty... the hippogriff holds her tongue on that. After a moment to think, the oathguard manages to object in a more appealing way.

"More ponies would likely be sure that justice has been served if we first disprove that there's more to this. Tell me about your kin."

A subject the good butler knew all too well. "Lord Yarrow and Lady Chrysanthemum preside over Kenbucky from Stoutheart manor. Everything in a day's gallop belongs to them."

"Is it not said that this is the very land that the Princesses bequeathed Stoutheart in addition to their noble title?" Solar Eclipse chimed in.

"Indeed, you are right ma'am. Though the main line of Stoutheart refused to leave its home on what was the borders of Equestria, a contingent of close relatives took up the Princess' offer, and settled in these lands. The Lord and Lady of the manor trace their lineage to these very ponies, and treat their stewardship with the utmost of respect. Were these shades drawn, you would see nothing but fertile, worked farmland. They let no acre go to waste, be it for crops, for homes, or for business."

"Of course, so many acres cannot be worked by one family alone, though Stoutheart ponies pride themselves on running vast farms in addition to their noble duties. Good growing makes good ponies, as it is said in Stoutheart. The remainder of their land is rented off to farmers and their families at a good price. A share of their profits and crops go to Stoutheart, and they are free to live off of what remains. Land unsuitable for growing is used for inns, waystations, and other amenities to aid weary travelers, all on the Lord and Lady's coin. Stoutheart is proud to call them their own, and all ponies in Kenbucky are glad to be in their care."

"Lord Goldenrod was their eldest son, heir...and my personal charge." The seat creaked as the aging pony pressed his hoof hard into the fine wood.

[MCerberus]

Sterling is pretty lucky he's not in the Duchy. That sort of failure is usually legally bad news, unless they can rapidly "solve" that "problem" with "murdering the perpetrator". Riposte doesn't mention this however, as this is one of those odd cultural notes.

Still, the hippogriff didn't quite get the answer she was after. Her mind is running through ways to say it without offending...

"Is there anything of note about his final days? Unusual actions, plans, or ponies he met with?"

[TheAmishPirate]

Sterling is pretty lucky he's not in the Duchy. That sort of failure is usually legally bad news, unless they can rapidly "solve" that "problem" with "murdering the perpetrator". Riposte doesn't mention this however, as this is one of those odd cultural notes.

Still, the hippogriff didn't quite get the answer she was after. Her mind is running through ways to say it without offending...

"Is there anything of note about his final days? Unusual actions, plans, or ponies he met with?"

"I kept the young lord to his schedule, excepting his...usual digressions." The butler's marble face hardened. "My charge was a passionate soul, full of the fire of youth. Not a day passed when he did not insist on personally overseeing some work or settling some matter. But he was fully occupied with affairs at the Manor these last weeks, and I never once left his side. Nothing unusual happened until we stormed out on that cursed meeting with those...rats."

[PurityIcekiller]

"I kept the young lord to his schedule, excepting his...usual digressions." The butler's marble face hardened. "My charge was a passionate soul, full of the fire of youth. Not a day passed when he did not insist on personally overseeing some work or settling some matter. But he was fully occupied with affairs at the Manor these last weeks, and I never once left his side. Nothing unusual happened until we stormed out on that cursed meeting with those...rats."

"Ah, what a shame he was lost, then. He sounds like a nice, responsible fellow who cared about his subjects..."

Glory perked his ears up at the last bit. "A meeting? I don't recall that part being mentioned. Perhaps that is where the key lies! Could you elaborate, sir?"

[MCerberus]

"I kept the young lord to his schedule, excepting his...usual digressions." The butler's marble face hardened. "My charge was a passionate soul, full of the fire of youth. Not a day passed when he did not insist on personally overseeing some work or settling some matter. But he was fully occupied with affairs at the Manor these last weeks, and I never once left his side. Nothing unusual happened until we stormed out on that cursed meeting with those...rats."

Glory seems to have a line of questioning lined up at the moment. Riposte keeps silent and goes with the "observation" course of action. At least their host is getting away from the eulogizing and onto actual useful information.

Of course, she'll have some followups ready if Glory doesn't poke at the right areas.

[TheAmishPirate]

"Ah, what a shame he was lost, then. He sounds like a nice, responsible fellow who cared about his subjects..."

Glory perked his ears up at the last bit. "A meeting? I don't recall that part being mentioned. Perhaps that is where the key lies! Could you elaborate, sir?"

Sterling Silver paused thoughtfully, then nodded slowly. "Of course, my lords and ladies. You must have already heard the basics from Lord Burdock, but I will elaborate to the best of my knowledge."

"Three days ago, some of our tenants found Solace ponies trespassing on our lands. And in spite of repeated warnings, they refused to leave. Word spread back to the manor, and, eventually, the late Lord Goldenrod. He wasted no time in rallying up a posse of our finest and storming out to meet the invaders; either to bring them back to Stoutheart Manor for a proper tour of our lands, or to chase their skulking hides back to their holes."

He shifted his weight, and for a moment they might spot an expertly-tied swath of bandages underneath his sleeve. "They chose the latter. We drove them off, but in their retreat they shot and killed my Lord Goldenrod." A vein pulsed on his forehead. "They tried besting him in combat, but found the young Lord more than a match for their steel. So the cowards waited until we let our guards down, then sniped him with a crossbow as they fled."

The elderly pony breathed a bitter sigh. "And that's what happened. I saw the whole affair with my own eyes."

[MCerberus]

Sterling Silver paused thoughtfully, then nodded slowly. "Of course, my lords and ladies. You must have already heard the basics from Lord Burdock, but I will elaborate to the best of my knowledge."

"Three days ago, some of our tenants found Solace ponies trespassing on our lands. And in spite of repeated warnings, they refused to leave. Word spread back to the manor, and, eventually, the late Lord Goldenrod. He wasted no time in rallying up a posse of our finest and storming out to meet the invaders; either to bring them back to Stoutheart Manor for a proper tour of our lands, or to chase their skulking hides back to their holes."

He shifted his weight, and for a moment they might spot an expertly-tied swath of bandages underneath his sleeve. "They chose the latter. We drove them off, but in their retreat they shot and killed my Lord Goldenrod." A vein pulsed on his forehead. "They tried besting him in combat, but found the young Lord more than a match for their steel. So the cowards waited until we let our guards down, then sniped him with a crossbow as they fled."

The elderly pony breathed a bitter sigh. "And that's what happened. I saw the whole affair with my own eyes."

Whether or not this story is true, and to what degree is something that needs thinking on. Surely nopony would act this way, not seeking permission to be in the land, but equally odd is that the military forces nearby didn't immediately respond to the offense properly the first time. Still, thinking of the future, Riposte asks about some evidence. "Did you recover any of the weapons involved?"

Of course, even seeing them means that her mistress can have them identified due to the unusual nature of the hippogriff's 'status reports'.

[PurityIcekiller]

Sterling Silver paused thoughtfully, then nodded slowly. "Of course, my lords and ladies. You must have already heard the basics from Lord Burdock, but I will elaborate to the best of my knowledge."

"Three days ago, some of our tenants found Solace ponies trespassing on our lands. And in spite of repeated warnings, they refused to leave. Word spread back to the manor, and, eventually, the late Lord Goldenrod. He wasted no time in rallying up a posse of our finest and storming out to meet the invaders; either to bring them back to Stoutheart Manor for a proper tour of our lands, or to chase their skulking hides back to their holes."

He shifted his weight, and for a moment they might spot an expertly-tied swath of bandages underneath his sleeve. "They chose the latter. We drove them off, but in their retreat they shot and killed my Lord Goldenrod." A vein pulsed on his forehead. "They tried besting him in combat, but found the young Lord more than a match for their steel. So the cowards waited until we let our guards down, then sniped him with a crossbow as they fled."

The elderly pony breathed a bitter sigh. "And that's what happened. I saw the whole affair with my own eyes."

"Huh! Well, that wasn't very civil. I wonder why they might have done that? I mean, surely ponies of honour would have listened to reason."

[TheAmishPirate]

Whether or not this story is true, and to what degree is something that needs thinking on. Surely nopony would act this way, not seeking permission to be in the land, but equally odd is that the military forces nearby didn't immediately respond to the offense properly the first time. Still, thinking of the future, Riposte asks about some evidence. "Did you recover any of the weapons involved?"

Of course, even seeing them means that her mistress can have them identified due to the unusual nature of the hippogriff's 'status reports'.

"We recovered all we could from the scene of the crime, and searched the trespassers thoroughly. Anything we don't have, their remaining guards must've took with them."

"Huh! Well, that wasn't very civil. I wonder why they might have done that? I mean, surely ponies of honour would have listened to reason."

"That is what you've come here to establish. Why a group of brigands would saunter onto our lands, kill our kin, and expect to get away with it."

[MCerberus]

"We recovered all we could from the scene of the crime, and searched the trespassers thoroughly. Anything we don't have, their remaining guards must've took with them."

"I will need to find these weapons then, regardless of whose custody they are in," Riposte states without any of the previous hedging or political niceties. In fact, if they were to suddenly disappear or have something bad happen, there's a VERY limited group of ponies hearing what she just said. Her tone seemed to imply the hippogriff isn't asking.

[PurityIcekiller]

"We recovered all we could from the scene of the crime, and searched the trespassers thoroughly. Anything we don't have, their remaining guards must've took with them."

"I will need to find these weapons then, regardless of whose custody they are in," Riposte states without any of the previous hedging or political niceties. In fact, if they were to suddenly disappear or have something bad happen, there's a VERY limited group of ponies hearing what she just said. Her tone seemed to imply the hippogriff isn't asking.

"Yes, the weapons. An excellent idea. If we knew where they came from... Well, it could help."

Clearly, Glory wasn't very good at this deduction business.

"That is what you've come here to establish. Why a group of brigands would saunter onto our lands, kill our kin, and expect to get away with it."

The young lord was aghast.

"But you said yourselves that you had some of them in your custody! Have they said nothing in their own defence?" He shook his head. "If you please, I would like to speak with the suspects. Perhaps I can persuade them to cooperate."

[TheAmishPirate]

"I will need to find these weapons then, regardless of whose custody they are in," Riposte states without any of the previous hedging or political niceties. In fact, if they were to suddenly disappear or have something bad happen, there's a VERY limited group of ponies hearing what she just said. Her tone seemed to imply the hippogriff isn't asking.

"Of course. House Stoutheart will surrender whatever evidence we have." Sterling recited.

The young lord was aghast.

"But you said yourselves that you had some of them in your custody! Have they said nothing in their own defence?" He shook his head. "If you please, I would like to speak with the suspects. Perhaps I can persuade them to cooperate."

"They deny everything, of course. They claim they were nowhere near the scene when the young Lord was killed. And yet, we discovered a crossbow among their 'researcher's' possessions. The only crossbow we recovered from their party." Sterling huffed indignantly. "You are more than welcome to interrogate them yourself, but you will be wasting your breath."

(Going to be moving on soon, get in last questions while you can.)

[PurityIcekiller]

"They deny everything, of course. They claim they were nowhere near the scene when the young Lord was killed. And yet, we discovered a crossbow among their 'researcher's' possessions. The only crossbow we recovered from their party." Sterling huffed indignantly. "You are more than welcome to interrogate them yourself, but you will be wasting your breath."

"Surely they can at least say something in their own defence? If they are innocent, they must have an explanation for what they were doing, and if they are guilty, every lie has holes in it... Come to think of it, they could have a legitimate explanation if they are guilty, too."

Glory (assuming they were sitting, as it has not been clarified) stood up. "Show me to the prisoners. I must learn what they have to say."

[MCerberus]

"Surely they can at least say something in their own defence? If they are innocent, they must have an explanation for what they were doing, and if they are guilty, every lie has holes in it... Come to think of it, they could have a legitimate explanation if they are guilty, too."

Glory (assuming they were sitting, as it has not been clarified) stood up. "Show me to the prisoners. I must learn what they have to say."

The material evidence situation seems settled in an acceptable manner, Riposte turns her attention to the matter of this whole "due process" thing with the prisoners. Glory... did not handle this well. The hipogriff comes up with a way to make it more acceptable for their host.

"We must remember that it's not for their sake we need to investigate. The skeptics will not accept the conviction and execution until all winds are flown against."

[TheAmishPirate]

"Surely they can at least say something in their own defence? If they are innocent, they must have an explanation for what they were doing, and if they are guilty, every lie has holes in it... Come to think of it, they could have a legitimate explanation if they are guilty, too."

Glory (assuming they were sitting, as it has not been clarified) stood up. "Show me to the prisoners. I must learn what they have to say."

The material evidence situation seems settled in an acceptable manner, Riposte turns her attention to the matter of this whole "due process" thing with the prisoners. Glory... did not handle this well. The hipogriff comes up with a way to make it more acceptable for their host.

"We must remember that it's not for their sake we need to investigate. The skeptics will not accept the conviction and execution until all winds are flown against."

"Well-said." Sterling nodded approvingly at the hippogrif. "This isn't the time for political games and useless maneuvering. This here's about a family who's lost a fine son. The last thing anypony here needs is a long, painful investigation by ponies who won't accept the truth." The elderly pony's expression was unyielding, but his eyes betrayed a weariness borne from experience.

But before he could elaborate further, the carriage slowed to a stop, and the pullers knocked loudly on the door. Sterling Silver straightened up and smoothed his uniform, erasing the traces of his few outbursts. "We're here. The prisoners are being kept in the cellar; our ponies have converted it into makeshift holding cells. I can take you there to start questioning immediately."

Before they could ask, Sterling Silver opened the door and bade for them to follow.

(Will have a scene change up in the next day or so.)

[MCerberus]

Ripposte keeps silent for the moment. Their host is already saying enough, betraying inexperience with these sort of affairs and an odd lack of necessity for real prisoner cages. Of course, another reason to keep quiet is to not bring more attention to herself. A hippogriff squeezing through an awkward pony-sized carriage door is not exactly the most dignified thing ever.

[PurityIcekiller]

Glory, not seeing what else to do, followed.

[TheAmishPirate]

The team emerged from the carriage to find themselves on the lawn of one of Stoutheart's famous inns. Although every true Stoutheart swore by the healing powers of good, old-fashioned, homestead hospitality, most true Stouthearts would recommend their inns as a solid backup. And an inn on Stoutheart land was a sight for weary eyes to be sure. The building had obviously been built by Earth Pony hooves, with solid logs forming the walls and sturdy planks the ceiling. A stone chimney puffed out smoke, calling all tired travelers to enjoy a warm hearth within. SOMETHING SOMETHING THE SIGN. It had a covered porch with rocking chairs, a fine, homely garden, and flags of Equestria and Stoutheart flying proudly in the breeze.

Really, the only thing ruining the atmosphere was the score or so of armed guards patrolling the grounds.

Everywhere they looked, Earth Ponies - most with a good dose of Draft in their blood - stamped about the grounds, wearing enormous suits of plate armor and carrying bulky polearms. They were stationed on the road, patrolling the exterior of the inn, and they could just make out a patrol heading out into the nearby woods. They saluted to the group as they trotted inside, whispering a few words of "encouragement." Those mostly involved highly creative suggestions of what to do to the brigands responsible. Once inside, they were led through the main dining hall, which had been re-purposed as a command post for the investigation. Maps were strewn across all the tables, and servants scurried to keep up with the reports flowing in. Nobles poured over information, desperately searching for something, anything to vent their righteous anger upon. A rat couldn't have squeaked without getting five crossbow bolts between the eyes. Fortunately for our team, they didn't stay long enough to witness such rage-induced marksmanship. Sterling Silver gave a series of whispered pass-phrases to some guards, and they let them pass down into the cellar.

Downstairs, by contrast, the mood was tense and gloomy. Stone floors and walls echoed with steady drops of liquid. A pair of cells had been hastily erected with stacks of kegs and some cobbled-together doors; let it never be said that Earth Ponies were not industrious in a pinch. Upstairs there was fire and action, down here there was waiting and stillness. And possibly mold.

Sterling Silver nodded for them to go ahead, choosing to wait by the stairs and watch.

(Leaving the introductions to Kelvin, who will be playing our two prisoners.)

[Kelvin360]

Each cell is occupied by a solitary unicorn, both with significant differences in their mood despite their similar appearances.

In one, a stallion wearing a simple, if ruffled, gardeners tunic, sits low to the ground, eying a small patch of moss with a singularly intense curiosity. His short and very irregularly-cut magenta mane and tail barely cover his stark white coat, his beamed-quarter-note cutie mark, or his abnormally elegant horn, which has a slight sheen to it that makes it look more glassy than an extension of a bone-like substance. Clasped to it is a small disc.

The mare in the cell adjacent to him is pacing with a fervor that only barely contains her outright anger. She shares a magenta mane, turquoise eyes, and more than a few physical features with the stallion, but certainly not his reserved calm. She walks gingerly and is naked, but based on how disheveled she is, it's doubtful whatever regalia she was wearing was removed entirely by choice. Her horn, too, is in a vice, and her only response to her visitors is to lock eyes with them and emit a low snarl.

The stallion glances up unconcernedly and smiles at them, clearly pleased to have visitors. "Oh, hi. Are you here to ask questions or kill us?" He asks this with an incredible level of casuality, as though either answer is of equally little concern.

The mare looks about ready to pounce on something and beat it with her bare hooves at that. "I'd like to see you try! You have no right, none at all, when the nobility hears of this-"

"I'd start with me in either case." The stallion raises his voice so as to be heard over the din of his sibling, whose tangent is growing less comprehensible with time. "Aria's not feeling very cooperative right now. Can I ask your names first? Mine's Harp."

[MCerberus]

The guards are in heavy armor. With pikes. In other words, they'd be useless at anything resembling keeping the peace. The grounds have been completely militarized. Or, possibly, their host has given their entire policing to militarization. That's a possibility given the times. Riposte kept her eyes mostly forward not acknowledging any reaction from the guards, appearing as neutral as possible. It did take some reaction to the freeflow of smoke coming from the inn's chimneys. For obvious reasons, griffon cities require great care in stopping air pollution like that. One never gets used to the ponies' general non-concern about that sort of thing.

The cells, as expected, were something of a joke. Wood can be sawed through with a talon, and the metal rings on a keg provides medal to make the process easier. It's more likely the threat of immediate death is the driving force behind the prisoners still staying.

The cheerful nature of the stallion is something interesting to consider. Resigned to death? Optimistic due to actual innocence? A game?
The mare though, is challenging them.

Riposte approaches the cell of the angry unicorn.
"We ARE the parliament's response." The hippogriff snaps back. "And I may be the only thing keeping you alive or your execution painless. If you don't wish to cooperate, I can tell your host to start sharpening an axe"

[PurityIcekiller]

Glory was taken aback by Riposte's aggressive words. I thought we were here to talk, not to kill them! Why is... Wait, wait. He considered some more, then drew a conclusion.

"Stay calm. I'm here to find the truth. My name is Golden Glory, from House Lightfoot. Officially, I'm an Investigator for the Crown, but if you prefer, you can simply think of me as a friend. Now, can you tell me more about yourselves? For instance, what kind of things you do?"

I'll just be the "good cop" while she plays the "bad cop". I've heard that works well.

[Kelvin360]

Harp winces at Riposte's opening and tries to intervene. "Please don't open with a-"

A wee bit too late, that remark. If anything, the threat seems to make Aria's temper flare to the point of an almost tranquil fury. "Hilarious. If you expect me to be cowed like some brainless foal by more threats, then clearly you have-"

Harp frowns. "Aria, if you want to say mean things at the nice hippogriff mare, please do it in H Major."

Her manner is still patently furious, but her tone softens to an almost impossible degree from a moment ago when Aria addresses Harp. "Harp, that chord doesn't exist."

"I know. But you do, and I like it when you exist. Can you keep existing?"

With what seems like a massive effort, Aria shuts her mouth, but her upper lip trembles slightly, and she stares silent daggers at Riposte through her cell door. Harp looks to Glory, then. "I'm sorry. Her cadence is discordant right now, and there aren't many words that help that. Cookies, butterscotch, grammar and nostril all would, but I don't think any of us were about to use those in a real sentence." Oddly, though, the assurances seem to make him sorrowful, a rather significant turn from his previous neutral manner. "Friendship is a bad idea here. Its magic has been tainted by the deep crimson chord that we all brought with us. It hasn't left - we keep singing it, maybe because we hope that if we keep the tempo going, we won't have to see how far away we are from how the song was supposed to be sung."

He grimaces, eying Glory and Riposte as though they've caught a terrible disease. "It's covering both of you now, whether you realize it or not. I suggest a bath and a lullaby. Not necessarily in that order." A pause, then, as he considers the question. "I'm not sure if...is that code? Do you mean what you want us to do, what we do now, or what we have done? Or all of them? What we do is our actions, and right now, what we do is afraid and confused, and still. And...there...there's no music here. Just silence and blood-colored half-notes I can barely make out from above." It's quickly becoming clear that the more he thinks about his situation, the more unbalanced he becomes, tears beginning to brim in his eyes. "W-we...we can't sing in here. But that's important, or it should be, shouldn't it? W-was it always this quiet above?"

For the first time, Aria drops her anger in favor of fear and a concern that seems positively maternal. "Harp? It's going to be okay. Just breathe. Do your scales, remember? Up and down."

At this, Harp closes his eyes and begins half-singing under his breath. "D-do re mi fa...so la ti..." He repeats the scales up and down again several more times, his voice steadying after each repetition.

Aria lets out a deep breath, meeting the eyes of the investigators again. All the fight seems to have gone out of her. "I assume they thought we'd plot our way out if they put us in the same cell, but they're idiots. If he's alone in there for too much longer, he's going to lose it and probably end up hurting himself. I'm just glad he managed to find some moss. To answer your question: My brother here, Guarded Harp, is a botanist working under the catalogers in House Solace. I'm his guard, and, I suppose, interpreter? But then, you've probably just been subjected to a solid hour or more of hearing how we're assassins, frothing at the mouth and trying to whittle down the honest, hard-working earth ponies under orders of the evil Sun Empire. That's how the spiel goes, isn't it? That, I assume, hasn't changed in the last few...uh, decades.

For the record, they only got us by way of border management. If this dispute had been on our territory, the positions would be reversed. I hope you're halfway decent at your jobs, because when word gets out that Stoutheart killed one of our attaches and put us down here, solar-powered, noble manure is going to hit the fan."

[TheAmishPirate]

Solar Eclipse - who had, for the most part, faded into the background in recent memory - sat down beside Guarded Harp's cell, and began to hum. First in time with the stallion's scales, then down a half-step, then flowing gently between notes in a soothing melody, all done so subtle even a trained ear would be shocked to suddenly hear a tune. Even with bars between them, she accompanied the stallion in song. Together, their little melody brought a touch of light and warmth to the dank basement.

[Merellis]

The guards doing their rounds of the immediate perimeter for the town of Kenbucky soon encountered a strange sight on the northern edge of the territory. A large falcon had landed on the halberd of the lead guard with a sharp squawk, giving them a bit of a start. The white-feathered bird with various gray plumages had a leather strap around its neck that bore the crest of House Stoutheart. Their avian company gestured to the north with another cry.

As the guards turned, they noticed a long figure limping towards them in the distance, wearing a cloak of dark gray and the tell-tale signs of a rather large bow strapped to the pony's back. They raised their own crossbows, wary of this stranger heading towards them. Caution gave way to frustration and anger as the noticeable bump on the hood of their new trespasser shed light on the fact this one was a Unicorn!

A sharp whistle emanated from the pony and the falcon responded by flying towards its master, only to return bearing a set of metal tags and a letter. The guards give them a look over before waving the stranger over.

"Yer late, Branch." One calls with a sneer as the unicorn soon joins the group with an obvious limp. "Shoulda gotten here last night on the train."

The voice that responds is obviously feminine, but it's a rough tone. "Was handlin' a nest of Manticores for the last week, didn't get the message till late last night." She removes her hood, revealing a green coat covered in scars and a messy mop of reddish-brown mane, as well as showing the edges of bandaging at the base of her neck.

She's obviously covered in dirt, grime, sweat, and her armour and cloak have the distinct look of being covered in blood. "Had to rush out 'fore dawn to get here this early. Now iffin you'll excuse me, I got some bandages to change, and I need to report to Sterling."

Her horn flares up and the items the guards had been looking at float back into her saddlebags, the gyrfalcon hops onto the mare's back with a happy little squawk. The dirty little ranger pushes past the guards and heads towards the Inn, hoping to perhaps clean her wounds, wash off the sweat then get started on whatever was left of the tracks.

"Just get your job done, Slightheart. Sooner you're gone the better for our noses." The other guards snicker as Branch flinches from the name, almost looking like she intended to turn back around. Instead, she raises her hood and stalks towards the inn, her companion glaring at the armoured buffoons who began to continue their rounds.

"Sooner we're done, sooner we're back in our forest, Nest. So don't do anything dumb like pecking out eyes." She mutters towards the falcon in a harsh tone. "With all these idiots stompin' around, doubt we'll find any decent tracks out there anyway."

Branching Paths soon enters the Inn, heading straight to Sterling Silver.

[MCerberus]

Unfortunately, Riposte isn't going 'bad cop'. It's more of one of those cultural differences, 'the exchange' it's often referred to. Meant to both gauge states of mind, confidence, and other states of mind. Long story short, starting a conversation with a confrontation is a common occurrence. The broken state of mind of the unicorn pair didn't really play into this though. It does imply, and the rambling seems to back it up, that they haven't been treated properly though. No matter the crime, there are standards. Riposte is going to have to have a discussion about that with their hosts.

"I am a servant of the three crowns. Here to remove the politics from the truth." A response fully taking into account that there are more than the accused and investigators listening in right now. "The first thing I need to know is what weapons you've raised even in defense in these lands."

[PurityIcekiller]

[The Cells]

Glory was a bit overwhelmed by Harp's ominous speech, and took some time to gather his thoughts.

"Well... I'll do whatever I can not to be corrupted. Now, let's see... I thought the Stoutheart ponies said you attacked them, and not the other way around. Could you tell me the sequence of events? I'd like to clarify what this inconsistency is about."

[Kelvin360]

Solar Eclipse - who had, for the most part, faded into the background in recent memory - sat down beside Guarded Harp's cell, and began to hum. First in time with the stallion's scales, then down a half-step, then flowing gently between notes in a soothing melody, all done so subtle even a trained ear would be shocked to suddenly hear a tune. Even with bars between them, she accompanied the stallion in song. Together, their little melody brought a touch of light and warmth to the dank basement.

Even though he appears to be in no position to perform a harmonic activity just yet, his body apparently knows what it's doing even if his mind is overwhelmed. Solar may or may not be surprised to suddenly find her notes not only being accounted for, but somehow blended, the rhythm on his end altering subtly to produce a flawless tonal harmony even though one of them isn't vocalizing. Moreover, as he begins to calm, he seems to take the alterations as a game of sorts, and he starts 'countering' each note with a different piece that wouldn't go together on paper, but like most works of art, is certainly pleasing in practice.

Unfortunately, Riposte isn't going 'bad cop'. It's more of one of those cultural differences, 'the exchange' it's often referred to. Meant to both gauge states of mind, confidence, and other states of mind. Long story short, starting a conversation with a confrontation is a common occurrence. The broken state of mind of the unicorn pair didn't really play into this though. It does imply, and the rambling seems to back it up, that they haven't been treated properly though. No matter the crime, there are standards. Riposte is going to have to have a discussion about that with their hosts.

"I am a servant of the three crowns. Here to remove the politics from the truth." A response fully taking into account that there are more than the accused and investigators listening in right now. "The first thing I need to know is what weapons you've raised even in defense in these lands."

"One we've raised or ones we've used? You know what, nevermind. Harp, Apocalypse and I don't use conventional weapons in combat. I make force patterns that act as legs and armor. I gave Harp a crossbow halfway through the fight that I'd scavenged after I tied its owner to a tree, but it was more ornamental than anything; I doubt he even knows how to fire one. Oasis had an axe-and-board combo, nothing fancy. Sonnet had...probably a few dozen knives at any one time. Probably a good thing she didn't get held along with us - they'd never have been able to find them all, and she isn't as nice as I am."

[The Cells]

Glory was a bit overwhelmed by Harp's ominous speech, and took some time to gather his thoughts.

"Well... I'll do whatever I can not to be corrupted. Now, let's see... I thought the Stoutheart ponies said you attacked them, and not the other way around. Could you tell me the sequence of events? I'd like to clarify what this inconsistency is about."

Aria snorts sardonically. "Is that what they told you? I suppose that makes sense; for us, though, they hit us apropos of nothing. Lieutenant Apocalypse lost control of his powers when things started getting tense. He does that often enough to where we've gotten used to it, but I guess the sudden flash of light was supposedly a magical assault. It doesn't help that Stouthearts can't tell the difference between a minor light spell and full-out blood magic - and they always assume it's the latter. All I know is, we're having a heated discussion, I hear Apocalypse light up behind us, and all of a sudden their crossbowmares are laying down suppressive fire. Sonnet and Oasis are gone, Apocalypse is wounded and running off into the brush, and it's all I can do to keep Harp by me while we run for it. We had two pursuers. One crossbowmare I told you about earlier, the one I tied up with my magic. The other was a pikepony that Harp sang to sleep midstride. I nearly tripped over Oasis on the way out - I didn't exactly stick around to perform an autopsy, but since his face and neck arteries were ripped off, it's safe to say he didn't make it.

I knew that there was no chance we'd be able to mount a runaway in the middle of Stoutheart territory, but we had to try something. So I ditched the flashing lights, told Harp to his the bow unloaded, and we made a run for it. Next thing I know, we're halfway up the road, surrounded, and they're alternating between trying to beat us down and accuse us of murder."

At this, her face alights with a smirk that's something a good deal less savage than any of her expressions so far. It's more like a trickster's guise. "I'm pretty sure a few of them gave themselves ulcers. They were shouting, giving raw sonic energy to Harp to fuel his powers, and I put up a transparent steel dome. Nothing they did could break through the combined barriers. They probably would have gotten siege engines and the other eight yards, but I negotiated a surrender on the third hour. Didn't make them any more gentle, though. If I hadn't talked them down, good money is they'd have killed us both the minute our magic faded. At this point, I'm fairly certain they made up the murder charge just to have an excuse to do us in."

"A song comes always from an inspiration." Harp puts in softly, still singing as he does.

Aria sighs. "He's right. Somepony's dead. From their side and ours. At least one each. But whoever dealt out those final blows, it wasn't either of us. I'm not an Unceasing Dawn bannermare, and neither is Harp - we don't murder during peacetime."

[TheAmishPirate]

Branching Paths soon enters the Inn, heading straight to Sterling Silver.

Sterling Silver could be found at the bottom of the stairwell, a little ways away from the cells. Branching Paths would have to come to him, as he was loath to leave the prisoners alone with the delegation from Canterlot, regardless of their credentials.

Even though he appears to be in no position to perform a harmonic activity just yet, his body apparently knows what it's doing even if his mind is overwhelmed. Solar may or may not be surprised to suddenly find her notes not only being accounted for, but somehow blended, the rhythm on his end altering subtly to produce a flawless tonal harmony even though one of them isn't vocalizing. Moreover, as he begins to calm, he seems to take the alterations as a game of sorts, and he starts 'countering' each note with a different piece that wouldn't go together on paper, but like most works of art, is certainly pleasing in practice.

Solar matches him tit for tat, allowing him to improvise with her notes while building the song after whatever else he may think up. The two of them make quite the duet.

Aria sighs. "He's right. Somepony's dead. From their side and ours. At least one each. But whoever dealt out those final blows, it wasn't either of us. I'm not an Unceasing Dawn bannermare, and neither is Harp - we don't murder during peacetime."

Though here, her spirit falters and the notes waver out of tune. She soon recovers, though noticeably more on edge than before. For now, she seems content to listen in, with no questions of her own at the moment.

[MCerberus]

Well then. It seems that blades were mentioned earlier concerning the murder. It seems that there's already one blatant lie sitting in front of them. One way or another somepony is playing somepony. In the meantime though, Riposte is silent. Glory made them particularly chatty. Whatever he did, the pony played off the exchange well. It gives the hippogriff leave to attend to something else.

Particularly the condition of the prisoners. Not only does the 'insane from imprisonment' lead to some ethical badness, but executing a mad pony would make another mess. Riposte goes over to a guard, or if available their host.

"A moment, if you will."

[Merellis]

The door at the top of the stairs creaks open as Branch trots down to report to her current superior in this matter, Sterling Silver. She takes a quick look in the room, noting that there are other unicorns, prisoners, and even a hippogriff. Her rough voice chimes in just after Riposte's, as there was no real sense in waiting too long to let him know she had arrived.

"Rangewalker, Branching Paths reportin', sorry 'bout the lateness but there was a mess o' manticores up north that were a mite too stubborn about crossin' into Stoutheart lands. Didn't meet the messenger till after sundown the evening past."