//------------------------------// // Just another Boring Day of Work // Story: Legends of the Shady Trough // by _No_One_Remains_ //------------------------------// It’s always the same thing, day in and day out. I stand behind this counter and pop the tops off of bottles just so some idiot with a few too many bits can drown his sorrows in liquor. I’m not going to lie; it gets old listening to drunkards and creeps ramble on about some long-lost love or stolen pride. Over the years, I’ve had more than my fair share of those unintelligible rants. I can’t say it’s all bad, though. Every now and again a young buck shows up with a genuinely interesting sob story, and my kind heart just falls to pieces with pity. That was the case with that strange Changeling Traveler a few years back. Of course, it wasn’t just the Changeling that made that night so memorable. Oh no, it was what followed his arrival that stains my memories. I remember that night—or series of nights—so clearly that it haunts my dreams while I sleep. I started something that I couldn’t stop, and I still regret it to this day. I am the owner of the Shady Trough, a bar on the western edge of Equestria, just beyond the Smokey Mountain. All of the locals call me Barman. Seeing as how I’ve served drinks in this bar for almost fifty years, it’s a fitting name. I see the usual rabble of idiots every day, ranging from wounded soldiers to talking pets. But that night will forever be engraved in my mind as the night I almost lost my sanity. I bet you’re thinking that working in a bar can’t possibly be that bad. Under normal circumstances, you’d be correct. However, this was a very abnormal evening. Allow me to start from the very beginning. … It was a cool autumn’s eve, and I was doing my usual thing. I recall all of the patrons that were sitting in the Shady Trough that afternoon, as most of them were frequent customers of my fine establishment. Some others were just passersby that wanted to whet their whistles before moving off down the road. No matter whom they were, before the night ended I knew them all almost personally. Let’s see, the first patron, and perhaps my favorite, would have to have been Wanderer. He was a quiet fella, a large brute that was intimidating to look at but carried an air of peace around him. He was an old retired soldier with his share of dark memories. I remember how his right wing fluttered wildly at random times, trying to compensate for his lack of left wing. All over his body he was dotted with scars and sores from his battles, and one particularly intense battle had left him permanently mute. He was always an interesting character, as his coat changed colors to match the time of year. It made him hard to recognize if you hadn’t seen him in a while. His eyes matched his coat, but his mane always reserved a nice orange flare. He also seemed to care a lot about plants, and loved to go trekking through the nearby forest to simply enjoy the wildlife. When it came time to dispose of our dying flowers and trees, he always let out a silent tear. I never would’ve guessed what his attraction to flora was, but I never thought too much about it. Since I’m on the topic of war heroes, let me describe another favorite of mine: Sir Ox Berry III. He was once a great soldier fighting for the Minotaur Motherlands, a noble deed to place on any resume. He had his fair share of battle scars as well, the most notable being his shattered left horn and his severed right arm. His silver coat and gray eyes added a sense of tranquility to him, and they complimented his personality so well. He was a world-weary and hardened brute, one that deserved all manner of respect for his solid determination and devotion to his friends. He was oftentimes a bit of a depressed fella, but he never tried to bring anypony down. He always stood up for the poor and weak, and didn’t hesitate to lend a few bits for a passerby to purchase a room at the Shady Trough. I guess it just dawned on me how much I enjoy the quieter and less eccentric patrons. Of the quiet types I simply adored Pigeon. She was very much secluded and sat back in the farthest corner of the bar, trying to avoid any kind of interaction. Her feathers were of a beautiful golden brown color, and she always carried herself in an elegant and mannered fashion. I don’t know much about her, or her real name, but all the locals referred to her as Pigeon because of her Griffon heritage. I enjoyed how visibly her dark brown eyes glowed when she was annoyed, which seemed to be any time another patron tried to converse with her. She always had one claw wrapped around some strange locket around her neck, which led me to believe it was some sort of memento of a long-lost love or something to that effect. I don’t know where exactly she hailed from, but she had enough bits to afford anything on the menu, so I couldn’t have been happier with her patronage. Speaking of patronage, one of the most helpful customers I can remember had to be Wolf. He was always willing to purchase a drink or two for his friends, and he never minded running an errand or two for me during the day. He would always come back from an errand with a bag full of game to trade for bits or drinks, which helped provide me with a hefty supply of food for my customers. I was content with obtaining the prey, and didn’t care to know just how he learned to hunt so well. One thing did bother me about the fella, and that was how he liked to eat meat from time to time. But I’m not one to judge my customers. He was slightly disturbing to other patrons as his white coat seemed to glow in the dark of the bar, and his wings had a tendency to flap on their own whenever there was a loud noise. He also had an unusual talent of speaking to any creature in their native tongues. Of course, that helped me serve foreigners better, so I never questioned it. He didn’t group himself with other patrons often, but there was one he always enjoyed talking to. It didn’t help his case any that the one friend he had was a Changeling. After the Canterlot fiasco, most Changelings were shunned from Equestrian society. I don’t care what you are as long as you can pay. But Razor was different in that he was a solid white Changeling from the northern hives. He had a strange pair of teal wings that disturbingly matched his eyes, giving his white coat an added sense of oddity. He would always mutter and mumble about how much he couldn’t stand Chrysalis’s hive because of the bad reputation it earned Changelings all over the world. He wasn’t a very social creature, but he was enjoyable company to have. He didn’t go out of his way to antagonize anypony, which was fine by me. No, antagonizing was left up to a few of my more hated patrons. But like I said earlier, if you can pay you can stay. But the worst of the jerks was by far Lamia. She always stayed in her room and did her little rituals. The only times she left it would be to try out a new spell or potion on some unsuspecting traveler. The funny thing was that all of her victims were non-ponies, like Griffons or Changelings. She enjoyed gambling as much as she enjoyed cursing, and I always found the way she cheated to be quite hilarious. I did find her unusual, however. She was a Zebra with a horn, almost like a unicorn but not quite. I’m not sure exactly how I felt about it, but it just looked weird. She had one solid horn color, yet her coat was red and pink. Not only that, but she contrasted her mane with red and cyan, which only helped to unease most newcomers. Her eyes shined a purple color, which always sent shivers down my spine when she looked at me. She was very intelligent, and knew exactly how to scare anypony that didn’t know her into doing her favors. She was a joy to watch when groups of travelers stopped in. Not all of the bad patrons were enjoyable, however. Freezing was just an all-around bad egg. He always threatened the other patrons with stories of his incurable illness to scare them away or make them avoid him. The way his wings would never so much as twitch and he would burst into random coughing fits didn’t exactly reassure the targets of his tales. Then again, his coat was an unnatural pale white and his mane was oddly blue scale for him to be a normal pony. His eyes were a solid jade color, only adding to his diseased demeanor. On top of all that, he had somewhat supernatural strength, and could lift a ton of bricks with a single hoof. I only prayed that he would never attack another patron, as the consequences could’ve been way too far reaching for my tastes. From the time of the evening in question, he’d lived in the Shady Trough’s basement for little over a year. The one patron I always hated more than any other was Monochrome. He showed up one Hearts and Hooves Day trying to sell me some of his super-special handcrafted fireworks. When I continued to refuse to purchase some, he decided to give me a demonstration of their quality. Of course, the firework he lit veered off course and ended up burning down half of the top floor of my precious bar. To this day, he is still paying off his debt. At any rate, he wasn’t all bad, just clumsy. His ability to fly in no way helped keep him out of trouble, as he had a tendency to crash into the roof on return trips from errands. His white mane was tipped with red, and his eyes shined a reddish color, almost as if to tell him to stop. In retrospect, they were fitting of his fate, really. Don’t get me wrong, he was a very intelligent pony, but he also loved to goof-around, which led to some horrible accidents. Most of his problems were found in women, as he had a tendency to say the wrong things and make the wrong moves, if you catch my drift. Of course, I have to thank Monochrome. If he hadn’t destroyed my bar, I never would’ve met Electric Slide. I never understood why his parents named him so ridiculously, but I loved how cheaply he agreed to repair the bar! All he wanted was free lodging and food, and he would completely restore the damage done. The weirdest part about him was how normal he was. Most of my patrons were outcasts and weirdos, but there never seemed to be anything wrong with Electric. He had a plane yellow coat and silver mane, and his eyes were an unremarkable brown. He could be bitter to ponies he didn’t know, and he always had a sarcastic sting hidden in his voice, but he was smart and good at his job. To this day I still don’t understand why he decided to stick around and help me out like that. Speaking of help, one of my favorite ponies to see every night was darling Caitiff. She always loved running errands for me at night when most ponies were out cold, and she never argued with any of the other patrons. She was nice and smart, and never bothered the other customers with her own wants or complaints. She tried as hard as she could to be helpful, and I simply adored her ability to sneak around and avoid the others. Her coat was a pale gray color, but her red-and-white striped mane complimented it nicely. Her dark red eyes always lit up when she got excited, which was almost every time she saw me. She was a gem, of that I’m certain. She did carry an air of mystery, which always bugged me in the late hours of the night. I was not so fond of her little assistant, however. Scourge followed Caitiff around like a lost little puppy, which was cute for a while. But after Scourge tried to take a nice bite out of one of my patrons, she and I had several fierce arguments. But Caitiff continued to defend her, and never let her stay at the Shady Trough alone. She always followed Caitiff on errands and would always become hostile when Caitiff left the bar without her. The brown spots on her black coat always filled me with a sense of fear, because the design just wasn’t natural at all. I was always afraid she would attack some unsuspecting patron and cost me a hefty sum of bits. Her lime colored eyes didn’t help settle my fears, either. Ugh, after the thought of that creepy mare, I think I need to think of happy thoughts. And there were three ponies that could always bring a smile to mine and my patrons’ faces every day. The leader of the trio was Plot Twist. He was an amazing actor, and oftentimes performed plays all on his own, switching voices and attitudes for each different character. He was a hilarious pony to listen to as he had an evil monologue one second and a good guy victory speech the next. His ocean blue eyes contrasted well with his dark brown coat and sand-colored mane. He was the epitome of an amazing actor. His features would stand out greater depending on the roles he played, which only added to the emotion. His eyes shined while a good guy, his coat became glossy during villainous roles, and his mane puffed out while playing indifferent characters. He was by far the best entertainer a small bar could ask for. He wasn’t the only performer that graced the Shady Trough, however. No, Conrideas helped him from time to time when there were just too many characters to act alone. Not to undermine Conrideas in any way, though! The black coat and contrasting blue mane of this actor was just as amazing to witness on stage. He had emotion and devotion, something most actors just don’t seem to have nowadays. Just like Plot Twist, he was kind, outgoing, and eccentric. The two were an amazing team, and they harmonized on every performance they had. They made ends meet by simply being themselves and reading scripts with emotion. Together, they were unstoppable actors. Of course, Conrideas wasn’t always a bar performer. He travelled all over Equestria to perform for random towns, until he met an annoying blue unicorn with an ego problem. He was bested in a magic show, and had since been full of shame. Then he stumbled into the Shady Trough and saw my patrons’ appreciations for acting. He and Plot Twist have been a duo ever since. Of course, the mastermind behind the trio was Lavender Wave. She had an unnatural talent for literature and entertainment. She and Plot Twist had been partners for years before Conrideas showed up, but once the third wheel was added, they flowed together so perfectly that they became the stars of the Shady Trough. More ponies showed up for their shows than they did for alcohol, at least for a time. They became known as the Light of Shade. Lavender had the ability to craft a tale so entertaining that you had no choice but to love it. And when her words met their actions, the entire bar filled with life and merriment. She was a beautiful young mare, with all the attitude of her age. Her coat was a cute sky blue color, and her purple mane complimented it perfectly. She was full of imagination and literary talent, and her friendly nature only added to her appeal. She was fine company to have. Then there was…wait… No, actually those were all of the usual patrons in the bar before the Changeling showed up. I guess I got too into the memories to stop myself. Let’s see; where was I? Oh yes! It was a cool autumn’s evening, and I was doing what I always did. I opened bottles and poured drinks for my patrons and employees. The Light of Shade was putting on a particularly clever comedy skit while Lamia attempted to persuade me to pour a new potion of hers into Sir Ox Berry’s drink. The entire bar was focused on the show being played out, and a round of drinks was ordered by Pigeon for the entire bar. It was unlike her, but I happily obliged. More money in my pocket, more booze in my customers. I had just returned to behind the counter when the door swung open slowly and a tall robed figure staggered towards the bar stool closest to me. The creature pulled its hood down to reveal the black face of a Changeling from the Eastern hive. Chrysalis’s hive, if ‘Eastern’ doesn’t hold any significance to you. Anyway, the Changeling took a deep breath before attempting to speak. The sight of the zebra beside me stopped his speech, as Lamia sent him an angry glare. I shooed her away, and once she had descended the stairs the Changeling regained his confidence. He sighed, “E-excuse me, but can I have some water?” I looked at him blankly for a few seconds, wondering if I had heard him correctly. I scoffed, “Water? I s’pose you can.” I immediately turned to the faucet behind me and poured a mug of water for the mysterious newcomer. He groaned “Thanks” as I handed him the mug. He immediately chugged it down and stood up from the stool. Just as he reached the door I asked, “Where are you headed, stranger?” He mumbled, “My hive…” He reached out for the door again before his knees gave out on him. He hurriedly pulled himself back to his feet and groaned as he pushed the door open. I rolled my eyes and chuckled, “Get your sorry ass back in here, kid. You ain’t in no shape to be wandering around.” Without any kind of opposition he obliged, and plopped back down on the same stool as before. He groaned, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience mister…I haven’t had much sleep lately.” “Understandable. After that Canterlot fiasco not many ponies like to see Changelings in their establishments.” I noticed his face slouch into a frown and his eyes divert downwards. I laughed, “As long as you got the bits, I don’t care what kinda creature you are.” He bit his bottom lip before mumbling, “I don’t have any bits…” I remember my expression immediately shift from upbeat to annoyed. I scoffed, “Then there ain’t a place for you, kid. You won’t be getting handouts from this bar.” He sighed, “I understand. I’ll leave…” I’m not exactly sure what came over me, but the instant he stood up a feeling of pity flooded me. I slapped a hoof on the counter and cheered, “Sit down, kid! First drink’s on the house!” I filled his mug up with my strongest whisky and watched as he gagged the liquor down. The Changeling smiled and chuckled, “Thanks, I needed that.” “So if you’re headed home, why don’t you just fly?” I asked the mysterious traveler, knowing that it was a comparatively short flight back to the Eastern hive from the west coast of Equestria. It was definitely shorter than walking. The newcomer hesitated as he said, “Well, I would…but I lost one of my wings in a fight a few weeks back. I’ve been travelling on foot since then…” I was suddenly filled with the most persistent feeling of curiosity I had ever felt. I cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Really? Mind if I take a look at the ‘battle scars?’” I felt slightly guilty at the obvious condescendence in my voice. He nodded and immediately pulled his robe over his head and extended his single insect-like wing, stressing the point that his other wing had been completely severed. In the instant, I felt horribly guilty and sorry for the poor fella. I couldn’t even force a smile or an awkward chuckle; I could only stare on in silence. After a few minutes of awkward silence between the two of us, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I forced a chuckle, “Tell you what I’ll do kid! Since you’re already so down on your luck, I’ll hook you up with the deal of a lifetime!” The Changeling smiled as a glimmer of hope filled his eyes. He chuckled, “The deal of a lifetime? I’ll take it!” I grinned widely and continued, “I’ll give you one free meal, a bottle of my hardest liquor, and a free room for the night...” I paused to add dramatic tension, “…if you can tell me a story that I find entertaining.” A frown flashed across the Changeling’s face as I finished the conditions of the deal. He slammed a hoof on the counter and cheered, “You got a deal mister! I’ve got one entertaining story coming right up!” That was when it started. That was how my nightmare began. I made one small deal with the Changeling Traveler and started a chain reaction that would haunt me for the rest of my life. I never would’ve guessed at the time how bad my kindness would come back to bite me in the ass…