"The Hammer, The Haunted, and The Hunter." [Closed] (Dated)

When Steel was shooed away, he felt helpless. His back was still sore from the griffon, and couldn't imagine carrying another pony 4 hours. He paced in the room, not sure what to think. The griffon had kidnapped him twice now. And technically that should make him a bad guy. However, Steel felt he wasn't all bad. Or at least, not enough to warrant him working with the griffons. He had saved Steel, even if he did cause the damage in the first place. After a few minutes he placed his flank on the floor. He wasn't sure what to think, so he just stopped trying. Until another thought cross his mind. Did she say she saved him?...

Zweihander awoke. It appeared he was back in the building he had just escaped. That was bad. Attempting to get up, he immediately felt woozy, and altogether quite unwell. Resting his head against the wall, he sighed.

Well, at least I'm not chained to the bed with a key on my griffon-hood like last time. Chuckling silently, he took in the room. Obviously ponymade and maintained, from the architecture and aesthetics. It reminded him awfully of the Wingchester Incident where he had gotten... "intimate" with a young mare. Needless to say, it did not turn out well.

Glancing around, he was in what appeared to be a master bedroom of some sort; complete with dresser and bed. Well, the bed wasn't especially luxurious, but it was still comfortable. Looking down at his body, he lifted the covers to make sure of something. Yeah, there was no key; thank the gods. He also noticed that his leg had been bandaged, and had miraculously healed most of the burns; glancing to his wing told a different story. There was still a neat hole in it; that would never heal properly again. He was now a cripple, as well as a mute.

He would never fly properly again.

"Alright, next step. What is your name?" She asked before getting up and sluggishly moving into the kitchen. Her hooves were dragging across the floor, and it was official, she was tired. Upon entering the kitchen, she removed a spoon and bowl, some carefully wrapped bread and a can of beans. "I'm running out of beans." She muttered to herself, almost as if about to break into tears over not having.

Oce the can had been opened and scooped out into the bowl she then looked onto the table where the stallions half eaten can was. 'He didn't even get to finish his meal.' Was all she thought as she unwrapped the not quiet as fresh as she had hoped bread. Not moldy, but a bit dry.

"Steel Strike. Smith. Confused...pony in general." he said, a bit stressed. He hadn't had much of an appetite, and hadn't eaten the rest of the beans. His brain was nearly out of it. "What about yourself?" he asked with genuine curiosity. She was more confusing then his "Friend" in the other room. She had hurt this griffon, but decided against killing him...for what? He had to get some answers or his mind just blow.

"Dangerous, tired, anti-griffon sniper. Nice to meet you." She spoke carefully, before breaking the mostly soft loaf of bread in half. Setting one of the table she then levitate both up and moved carefully back into the griffons bedroom, before stopping to see he was awake.

"Well it's a good thing you're awake. Don't know if you're hungry, don't care." She set the bowl of beans and bread down next to him, before letting out a sigh. "Eat, and not die yet please." She then pulled a key out of the top drawer of the dresser and tossed it at it him. It's landed on his crotch. "If you wish to lock the door be my guest, but there's no windows in here, so unless you want to go through the wall again... Well.. I wish you luck." Those were her last words as she before she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

Steel watched as she went into the room, spoke her spiel, and left. She had officially passed Mikael in the confusing department. "So whats the deal? You save me from a griffon, then save his life? Twice? And, if you're Anti-Griffon, does that mean your rebellion?" he asked the several questions quickly, confused. He really hoped she could answer them, because he felt a headache coming on. Steel put a hoof on his face, and sighed again. "Im sorry, didn't mean to bombard you with questions. I'm just trying to make sense of this...any of this.." he said, worn out.

"The 'deal'" She responded using her hoofs to make quotations for just a second. "Is that he's weird. He stared down the sniper and the sniper liked it." Upon finishing the statement she flopped down on the bed not even caring that she had left her half a loaf of bread pit. "Does that mean I'm a what? The only thing you should make sense is being my slave for about 4 seconds and bringing me that half a loaf of bread though you can have some if you want." She spoke calmly as she shifted into a comfortable possession on her side.

Steel got up, and got the loaf of bread. He was hungry, except maybe for answers. "He's wierd I'll admit. But he stared you down? And you liked it?" said Steel, slightly less confused. "Don't remember much after he gave me that healing potion, after that....Questioning? Torturing? I don't know. It seems all he wanted was answers to meaningless questions. All about himself." said Steel, handing the bread to Bow. He had alot of questions for the griff-butt. Which prompted another question. "Is he going to live? Saw him lose an awful lot of blood..." he said slightly concerned.

"If he's awake currently he'll either fall asleep in a little bit, or clean that bowl with his tongue." She spoke shifting of the topic of what she liked. She scooted back in the bed some until her back pressed against the coolness of the wall. After a quick shiver she looked up at him.

"Meaning he'll eat, if he doesn't I'll probably drop him on his feathered ass, somewhere outside of my apartment." She followed the statement with a small sigh before deciding to answer his questions.

"And if you must know what I like. I liked his courage though it may have been followed by a few weird actions, I understand he's a touch not all there, but still even crazy knows when it's staring at death." She paused for a second before another break in her 'bored' facial expression arose. "At least I hope they do..."

Steel shook his head. "He probably didn't even realize it...He's more then a touch not all there at times." he said with a chuckle. He knew one thing, this griffon wouldn't have taken all that damage if he could have helped it. He certainly cared about his looks. "Will he be able to recover, though? That wing and leg looked nasty.." he said, the slight concern rising in his voice again.

"Well see, that's the thing, his wounds were made with the intent to kill him. My first shot was at his wing, if I had hit, he wouldn't even have most of. The hole that goes through his wing now, was when I was blind firing at him." She spoke returning back to her passive glare. "With something to help him shouldn't be much, it's a tiny hole. He'll never be able to fly right again. Now if you shove him off a cliff, he should be able to glide down, but he can never gain altitude no matter how much he tries." She shoved away her partial guilt and rolled over looking away from him. "Go eat the rest of your beans then come lay down and get some rest... Please?"

Steel sighed. She was right. It was extremely late, and he needed his rest. He wouldn't be able to make the execution, or help out Megs. Celestia, she probably thought he was dead or worse. He needed his sleep though, if he was ever going to be up to par with magic again. He gobbled down his beans quickly, and laid down in the bed. He decided he was going to get the last laugh on the mare. "Well, I hope you had fun while the griffon rode you and me..." he said, and put him into a fit of laughing, which ended abruptly with a yawn. He slowly drifted off, into a dreamless sleep.

Zweihander sighed. Looked like he would be bedridden for a while. He figured that one of the unicorns had either used a healing spell or potion. Hence why he wasn't bleeding anymore, and the suspicious lack of bruises on his body. About to get out of the bed to investigate, he heard the door open, and saw the mare walk in.

"Well it's a good thing you're awake. Don't know if you're hungry, don't care." The mare set a bowl of beans and a chunk of bread down next to him, and gave a loud sigh. "Eat, and not die yet please." Moving to the dresser, she opened it, and pulled a key out. Tossing it on his lap, she began to speak again. "If you wish to lock the door be my guest, but there's no windows in here, so unless you want to go through the wall again... Well.. I wish you luck."

Did the mare read his thoughts? Zweihander chuckled at the thought. It was just an ironic coincidence that the key landed in the vicinity of the last one.
However, it was true that he was hungry. Hadn't eaten for a while actually. Picking up the bowl with a claw, he dipped his beak in experimentally. Satisfied with the taste, he ate most of the beans straight from the bowl. Using the chunk of bread to mop up the remaining liquid in the bowl. His hunger sated, he decided it was time to inspect the damage done to his wing.

Getting out of the bed, he almost collapsed from the blood draining from his brain. Steadying himself on the bed, he exhaled loudly. At least his leg could support his weight now, and not be a dead limb. Like his wing might be. Extending his left wing out, he breathed in sharply when he saw the hole. He hadn't counted on this, for sure. Putting away his wing, he sighed quietly. Looked like his suspicions were correct; he was now a cripple. He'd never see the sky again. Not that he was much of a flyer to begin with, having under developed wings and all.

Sitting on the bed, his tail began to unconsciously twitch, a sign of stress. He wondered when that mare would come back. He had a couple questions.

That night she didn't dream, it was just black and when she woke up, she woke up next to a stallion she didn't know and her back hurt. Upon carefully sitting up she then began to recall the few events that had occurred the previous day. The carrying the griffon, the fighting him, the stallion.

"Yesterday was a very active day." She said not quietly before shoving the stallion out of the bed they had slept in.

"Get up, we're leaving, we might as well go were your griffon is going." She stated before getting up and moving to the door. Though this time instead of just walking in, she pulled a small via of painkillers from her medicine cabinet and then knocked.

Zweihander had not slept all night. He had a very ominous feeling in his gut; something had happened, or was about to happen. He knew it. What he had done for the entire night was sit on the bed, reading his slightly bloodstained book, or staring out the window. What was at the forefront of his mind was "why". Why had the mare saved him from falling? It wasn't like he was worth saving anyway. Just a griffon to these ponies, the monster, the storybook villain.

Hearing the door open, he looked in its direction, awaiting whatever decided to enter the room.

Steel was rudely awoken by a push from the bed. He heard say that she wanted to follow his griffon. "My griffon?! I'm not his caretaker. I'm also not too keen on following him, after he kidnapped me..." he said slightly irritated. He got up, and received a woozy head ache. "In fact I'm surprised he stayed, or didn't kill us in our sleep..." he said not really believing what he said. Well....maybe not that particular griffon. He trusted the griffon in the other room slight more then a regular griffon, mostly because hewas insane, or was getting there.

The mare carefully opened the door, still a bit groggy she was certainly cautious. Putting two pills on a empty notebook, before levitating that over to him. "They're pain killers, you don't have to take them, I don't even expect you to, but should you, they'll prevent you from feeling the pain of walking on the leg for a prolonged amount of time. Also sense you can't talk, keep the notebook. You'll need it." She state calmly and quietly as if talking to loud would hurt him. She then gently closed the door, and turned back to the stallion.

"Yes, Your griffon, I met him when I found you thus he is yours and you are his." She stated calmly, again walking in to the kitchen if only to drop the bowl in the sink. The sun was up though she didn't know what time, it was clearly late morning. 'Over sleeping as usual.' She though to herself before moving out to the living room again.

Zweihander picked up the offered pills. Putting them on the pillow, he got out his quill from his harness, which was still on his body, and began to write.

I have no idea why, in the Kingdoms, you saved me. You had me in your grasp not once, but twice. I am the enemy of your entire species. And you did not end my life. You also reminded me of a little incident in Wingchester, but I won't go into that. What is important, is that you saved a griffon with connections. You have my gratitude, and my thanks.

Zweihander got to his feet, sword on his back, and walked with a limp to the door. Opening it, he clicked his beak to get their attention. Holding the note out to the mare, he waited.

Steel shook his head. "Sorry, I'm not anyone's griffon, and he just want me for his own needs. I need to find my mare friend. I wonder if the execution has started yet..." hesaid absent mindedly. His thoughts were back on Mega. He had completely forgotten that Bow was there for a moment. He wished he could get to Mega and tell her she was okay....

As Zwei walked in, and gave the mare the note. His thoughts were suddenly shifted from his mare to 'his' griffon. He became angered, by the sight of him. "Damnit Mikael! Damn you to tartarus! Not once but TWICE you've foal napped me! And break my horn, so I can't even use magic! Then you fix me up and save me the second time. Just what the Buck do you want! Tell me because I want to know!" He said seething, tears in his eyes. He was frustrated with this griffon. He didn't make a lick of sense, and it didn't help that he couldn't speak. Steel waited for a reply, and decided that if his answer wasn't good enough he'd be running straight to Megs, whether or not he was his griffon.

Bow who had just come out of the kitchen, turned to see that the griffon was holding out the notebook. Carefully in her magic she took it and gave it a glance over. "Your welcome, I think, and yes, you are. Where in Equestria is Wingchester? Also I care not for you 'connections'." She ended her statement handing the griffon back the notebook, and once again using her front hoove to make quotations around the word 'connections'.

"But seeing as you are awake and well, we should move. Pack up your things, and let's go, please." She stated... asked...? it was hard to tell with her lack of changing facial expression and how she worded her words. She gave a glance over to the stallion who was.. being a filly.

Doing a third pivot in two minutes, she levitated a few cans of carrots from her cabinets and stuffed them into the side pouches of the black case that was holding her viola. It was zipped tightly and sitting on the bed, awaiting to be put on her back.

Zweihander wrote something on his notebook quickly, and gave it to the mare.

I have much money. And the Wingchester incident was in the Kingdoms; hence why you are unaware of its location. What is most important, is that I show my gratitude. I will not take no for an answer.

Moving on to the stallion, he wrote a note.

You had information I needed; you gave me it. I apologize for my methods, but you seemed to know about "me". I would rather you called me by my taken name, Zweihander, as my true name is quite unknown in Manehatten at large.

Zweihander wondered if there was anything else he needed to do before he had to sit down. Coming up with nothing, he sat on his haunched on the floor, awaiting the two ponies responses.

Steel shook his head. He didn't think it was as simple as methods. However he wasn't in the mood to care. "Mi-...Zweihander. I'm frustrated. I was foal napped by you. I have absolutely no reason to be involved in any of this. The only reason I even know your true name is because you almost killed me. I just want to go back to my mare, and take a VERY long break from all this madness. Unless either of you two are opposed to that, Ill be off." He said. He was done playing games. He was done with selfish griffons, and mares who didn't seem to give a buck about anything. As he approached the door, he stopped and turned. "That being said, I thank you two for saving my life. Especially you Mrs.Strings. When I reopen my shop either of you can stop by for repairs or something. But for now, just leave me alone..." he said, glumly, and headed for the door.

Zweihander sat there, remaining still on the floor. He felt...saddened by the unicorns departure. Maybe it was because of the smith's knowledge of who he was, or maybe because Zweihander felt guilt for what he put the smith through. Whatever the case, Zweihander felt a strong sense that this would not be the last time he ever saw the stallion. All he could hope was that it would be on better terms.

Looking to the mare that had dressed his wounds, he looked to her for what to do next.

"Celestia forbid I love it when you stare at me." She said bluntly before slipping her viola case onto her back. "It makes me want to blow your head off, if only to see why you do it." She gave him a playful wink before turning to the door.

"We can't just let him go walking around by himself, he doesn't have his magic. and a unicorn without magic is damn near useless." She spoke simply, turning back to him for just a second to explain, then make a small 'follow me' gesture with her head.

Zweihander quietly nodded in agreement. Raising himself up, he walked with a slight limp behind the mare, sword on his back, and a book in his harness. He had no idea what was going to happen today, and if he would survive. All he knew was that he was going to be in a world of pain, for the third time in 72 hours.

And, was that mare...flirting with him? Thank the gods he had feathers, otherwise he would have been blushing red as a tomato. Although it seemed to revolve around him getting his head blown off; not a desirable outcome, no matter the case.

It was time to track a smith.

(Continues in Sinful Consequences.)