Tales of the Ponygirls - Fighter’s Informant
- by ponygirl_shyla

Supplied by the author for use on SirJeff's Ponygirls website.
Do not repost without permission.
As edited by SirJeff.


The document written by the Historian Shinohara intrigued the young Loremistress. So much so, she decided to go to an Inn and ask for a Fighter named "Karn." The talk had it that the Fighter knew more about the document than Shinohara herself.

"Seems reasonable enough…just change my clothing and act like I’m some tart wanting a quick fuck," thought Slvala.

Changing from her standard Robes and Dress to a saucy wench was simple enough…Slvala had mastered the arts as both a Rogue and Loremistress. The Loremistress role fit her information gathering capabilities in higher circles and such, while the Rogue complimented her former and also helped when executing something on the basis of such information.

"There! Done!"


"Why the heck am I doing this?" Slvala asked herself as she entered the seedy side of town.

This side of town has seen better times. Once a bustling market arcade, with the advances of time, it had now succumbed. Prostitutes filled the way, while former storefronts were either boarded up, or were guarded by men "standing around." Night made the place even more dangerous, as the illumination of Torches and "Willow-Whisp" Lanterns lit up the area.

Slvala found the place she was looking for after some asking around.

"The Blue Waters…Fine Drink and Food. I think this is the place…" Slvala told herself, looking at the piece of parchment the source gave her.


Inside, the atmosphere of the Inn engulfed her senses.

All around, the stench of candle wax, booze, and "fun" permeated the place. Men and women drank gleefully, and the chatter was almost deafening. Barmaids milled and poked about, carrying their loads of empty and full glasses.

Adventurers, Rogues, and races of all kinds drank and ate to their hearts content. As she scanned the tables, she could see Humans, Elves, Halflings, Dwarves, and the occasional "monsters" such as Gnolls and Half-Orcs. A group of Dwarven Miners sat just before her, cursing the earth and looking over their haul, while an Elven War Band sat in a corner, sipping, chatting about past experiences and sometimes playing their instruments.

Ignoring the lewd stares of several patrons, Slvala calmly went up to the barkeep and dropped a small gem onto the table.

"The Fighter named Karn?"

The Barkeep pointed to a corner. "He’s over there, with a Female Elf Courtesan."


Karn lay in the corner, a somewhat grizzled 40-ish blond male who seemed to have had his fair share of battles. He reeked of charisma and probably could have any woman his hands groped. He was often in the company of his friend and sometimes savior Sagest, a Gnoll Warrior. Tonight Sagest seemed away, and the Elf Courtesan was obviously enjoying herself with Karn.

"I take it you don’t want another one…one that is willing to pay you?"

Karn paid Slvala no heed. "Sorry, but find your own man to service."

"Oh, you’ll soon think differently. Kayla, can you?"

"Right Slvala…I’ll extend some credit to him," the Elf stated as she left.

Karn is shocked at this. "How…How?"

"We go back a ways…" Slvala smiled coyly.

Disgusted, Karn recomposed himself and sat up. "Right, so why are you here?"

Slvala sat down facing from him. "Well, I’ve come across something and I need your help. I found this document relating to the Drow, and want to learn more. Are you interested?"

Karn sipped his drink and pondered a bit. "What is it and money on the table dearie."

Slvala dropped 10 gems onto the table, each worth 100 gp. Then, a copy of the account by Shinohara. "Word has it that you know something about this," Slvala stated, looking at Karn.

Karn picked up the paper, and took a few minutes to read it over. "Yes, I know of the Drow. Mean bastards. Even uttering their name might get you the scorn of total strangers. So, what’s this little missive suppose to indicate?"

"Well, for starters, is the account true?"

Karn groaned and settled his elbows on the table. "I can see why someone referred you to me. I have a well know reputation for learning about the debaucheries of those Pagan Races…"

"Debaucheries? Please, do tell…."

"Seems with every race…Drow, Elf, Goblin…any of the Humanoid-types, even Vampires and all those Half-whatever, have variations on our human fetishes. Of course, what you have here is one that is only documented by two races; the Drow and the Elves."


"Let me explain…In all my travels, I have only seen two races that do what is described in this scroll. For starters, the Elves of Darkwood have been known to kidnap girls…from other Elven Tribes and Humans, raiding caravans or nearby settlements. The Drow take this one step further, by using the vast Underdark to carry out their kidnapping. The Elves think of this as a sort of crude punishment of Humans and some Elven Tribes, for their lust of innovation; kidnapping girls and making them ponygirls unleashes a "wild-spirit" repressed within them. The Drow, on the other hand, use the ponygirls as labor; the Underdark have very few other beasts of burden, and the Drow have managed to capture both men and women ground-based Humanoid races for that specific purpose; Horses and Mules wouldn’t survive in the Underdark for a day."

Slvala listened intently. "Any chance you’ll be willing to prove those claims?"

Karn looked at Slvala, sort of pissed. "And what exactly is a Young Loremistress like yourself wanting to learn the sexual fetishes of the Drow and Elves?"

"I have my reasons."

"Right, if I take you to the information you want, the fee is pretty high."

"My Guild will pay all expenses."

The utterance of the word "Guild" sent Karn into a mind-numbing frenzy. It didn’t matter, as Karn had taken Guild Contracts before. At all times, he was paid in full and never harassed by anyone about Guild Activities.

"Fee is 10,000 gold up front, 10,000 afterwards."

"Okay. Wish to come to my study for the payment?" Slvala calmly stated, rising from her chair.

Karn gathered his gear and followed Slvala, a somewhat mixed reaction on his face. The boozing and the fun kept on going behind the two.


The two made their way down the main street, with Slvala in the lead, with Karn just a few steps behind her.

"You asked why I wanted to this."

"Sure. So, why?"


"Lady, when I hear that word, I know something is gonna be bad…"

As Karn aired his premonition, Slvala fell to the ground, a small feather protruding from her rear.

Karn immediately reacted, unsheathing his Longsword. He quickly surveyed the area. Noone was within sight. A virtual dead zone.

"We still have some unfinished business with you, my dear Stallion!!" a voice whispered from the shadows.

As Karn sought the source, a group of women flew down from above, with the help of some teleportation spells, and gang-tackled Karn, sending him into a premature slumber.

The ladies that assaulted Karn quickly stripped Karn and Slvala of their gear and clothing. All looked like Wild Elves, with fur clothing, with some flashes of nipular areas and crotch here and there, some wielding their "weapons", bullwhips, riding crops, and buggy whips.

Two figures appeared from a side alley, decked out in finery that would outdo some of the more "refined" Doms in the major cities. One of them was related to the Wild Elves that just attacked. The other was a white haired, jet black skinned, and somewhat taller than normal Drow Mistress.

"Nivea, I thank you for helping me catch my lost property. The "payment" will be done when delivery is complete," said the Drow Mistress Ninotchka.

"Even thought we are blood enemies, we do share one common lust. This is the only thing that stops us from killing each other right now. I expect those Drow Slaves to be paid out when we deliver these Ponies to you," Nivea growled, turning and walking back into the shadows.

The other Wild Elves dragged their victims after her, leaving Ninotchka alone.

Ninotchka looked at the empty stalls and buildings. "Feh, good riddance. My property is going back to a better place." She retreated back into the dark, leaving no trace of what has just transpired.