Armifera cackled, “A title?” She glanced over at Summer, “You’re from up north, right? Shield-Mare wouldn’t work… shields are for the ones who leave their enemies alive long enough to get a hit in…”

Summer interjected, fishing around in her bag again as she answered, “Hmm?”

Raising an eyebrow, Armifera grumbled, “Do you even know what I’m talking about?”

“Hey, she asked to try some whiskey; I’m looking for the stuff that isn’t 100 proof.” 

“Vodka?” 

“Somehow, that paint thinner you call vodka is even stronger.” The azure mare sighed, before giving a small yip of victory as she dragged out a smallish keg. “Alright, this… [i]shouldn’t[/i] be too much…”

She passed it off to Sweeper, and turned to Armifera. “Now what was that about titles?” She asked, a gleam in her eye. 

Rolling her eyes and giving a loud belch, Armifera grinned, “Did you have something in mind? My northern friend who doesn’t at all look like she’s actually from the Nhorse lands?”

She paused, “Wait, what was it that you call those elite warriors who fight with a king or something?”

Summer raised an eyebrow, “The housecarls?”

“That’s it!”

Summer raised her eyebrow again, having lowered it, “So I’m now… Housecarl Summer Winds?”

Chuckling, Armifera corrected her, “I was thinking Housecarl [i]Berserker[/i] Summer Winds.” She nudged the blushing Summer Winds playfully, “We all saw you when you fought those bandits after drinking some of my -special- brew.”

“So are all of your followers housecarls now?” Summer asked.

Armifera paused at that, “Eh… we’ll see… Scarlet Ink might have to be ‘right hoof snarker’ or something.”

She turned to Sweeper, having forgotten about her momentarily, “Ah, sorry Sweeper, tell me. What’cha think of the drink of champions, or some variation thereof?”

She muttered to Summer, “What even was that stuff anyway?”

Summer shrugged.
____________________________________
Scarlet Ink was having a bad day.

Scratch that, it wasn't a bad day.

This day was horrible.

She’d woken up- outside, on the ground, and surrounded by bandits with ill intentions written all over their faces. [i]Then[/i], she’d had to fight them all, and now she’d have to clean her swords, axe, and her armor, and find a doctor, [i]and[/i] figure out where she was.

Because of course, she’d been trying to wrench her swords from two bodies, and her axe was stuck under another one, and some asshole managed to land a hit with his crossbow. 

Luckily it hadn't been too severe -nothing immediately life threatening anyway- and she’d been able to teleport out of there without too much trouble to avoid the bastard’s friends. Though at least she’d been able to recover her property in time.

Scarlet winced in pain as the hole in her leg protested her movement, forcing her to stop for a moment. Gritting her teeth, she muttered, “Glad there’s at least fewer bandits out here, wherever the hell I am. Oh, good, and there’s a town up ahead,” She observed, noticing a very town-like collection of building, “All I need to do is drag my leg over there and hope it doesn’t fall off.”

Grabbing a rag with her magic, she crammed it between her teeth. Biting into it as hard as she could, Scarlet Ink began dragging herself along the road to the town. And possibly scaring some other travelers along the way. 

She wasn't a pretty sight as she finally heaved herself into the town, coppery/crimson mane (normally luxurious and silky when brushed and washed) clinging to her face, or rather, all the sweat on her body. Her cloak was also streaked with sweat, and her elegant brigandine armor was caked in dust, blood, and dusty blood- oh, and sweat.
“Luna dammit this hurts!” She hissed to herself, dragging herself, and her leg, over to what looked like a bar.
Opening the door, she stumbled through, “Right. So. This is a bar, right?” She asked rhetorically, looking around, “Any of you fine folks know where I could find a doctor? Or tell me the price of a pint? Either works, though I’d prefer the former right now.” She swayed slightly, bracing herself against the doorway, “Name’s Scarlet Ink, by the way.” She coughed awkwardly.
____________________________
Storm nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine. But what in Tartarus are you two doing here?” She panted, “Surely you've noticed the alicorn and the damned [i]Laughing Mare Herself[/i] duking it out while standing on a lake?!” 

She noticed the other pegasus who’d been there was still standing out in the open, and resisted the urge to bolt out and drag her behind the log too. 

She turned to Snow Tail, “Since neither you nor her are running, I assume you have some plan?” She hissed urgently, adding, “One that doesn't involve actually fighting them? I can hold my own, but not against whatever hordes of abominations the Cult can make.”