They're EVERYWHERE!

1313: 8

Zamira would call the past week spent by asking around mercenary and guard bars exciting albeit, unfortunately, not exactly rewarding. 1313 would disagree with the first part while he was washing stale beer thrown his way out of his mane and coat in the shower almost every evening. The fact that Zamira was there as well, "helping", made matters a lot better, though.

Hopefully, tonight will be different thanks to a clue they paid handsomely for.

As 1313, his mane and coat dyed black and grey due to Blueblood being far too recognizable, and Zamira approach the "Rusty Blade" bar, they're immediately spotted by a bulky pegasus with an eyepatch standing by the entrance, who keeps watching them walk all the way while smoking a cigarette.

"He's inside, sitting at the bar," he growls when faced with Zamira's raised eyebrow up close and presents a hoof.

1313 reaches into his saddlebag for a pouch of coins but Zamira shakes her head, interrupting him.

"You'll get the second half of the bits once we're done here."

"Missy-" the pegasus spreads his wings threateningly.

"There's only one exit out of here," Zamira rolls her eyes, grabs 1313 by the ear, and pulls him inside.

Ignoring the pegasus merc further, they enter the Rusty Blade and immediately spot a solitary unicorn at the bar wearing a rather sophisticated cast covering one of his forelegs. They're being watched as they walk between the tables, but their target unicorn is one of the few armed ponies not paying them any attention. Once they get closer and the heavy stench of liquor surrounding him assaults their nostrils, it becomes clear why.

A bar stool on each side of him fills up, Zamira taking the right one and 1313 taking the left.

"Heeeya, buddy," Zamira gives the unicorn a friendly smile.

"You this guy's friends?" growls the bartender, approaching the newcomers.

"Wha-?" the unicorn gives Zamira a hazy look.

"You could say that," replies Zamira with a smile, "We're a pair of curious friends who only want to ask a few questions."

"Missy," the bartender glares at her with sudden irritation, "Ponies in a certain line of work stick together and, sometimes, the answers you're looking for aren't worth the trouble."

1313 looks around at the majority of ponies sitting at the tables now watching them while playing with knives, cudgels, horseshoe blades, and overall a variety of heavily customized weapons.

"I'm sure that," Zamira raises her voice, "breaking and entering into Canterlot castle and thankfully unsuccessfully attempting to murder Princess Luna's close friend," she lowers it again, "might warrant an explanation or two."

The unicorn can only make the first semblance of movement before Zamira grabs his cast and slams it against the bar counter, making him groan in pure agony and collapse on the counter while the situation in the room calms down somewhat.

"You sure about that guy?" asks the bartender.

"Yes, the survivor drew us a picture and did this," Zamira puts pressure on the crippled hoof again to wake the unicorn up, "to him. We just want to know on whose orders he did it. We might even let this small fry go afterwards."

The unicorn groans.

Zamira grinds his hoof against the wood.

"I. Didn't. Hear. You."

"Aaaaaaaargh!" screams the unicorn.

"Stop!" says the bartender sternly as he slams his own hoof against the counter, "I understand he did something heinous, but nopony here exactly has a clean slate. Either take him to prison and question him there or ease up. You won't be torturing anypony here."