"And so I said, if you want the roof repaired so badly, why don't you grab a hammer and do it yourself?" An earth pony said in a dull tone. "Then she got mad, of course. But what's she going to do? I have a job to go to every day. She's the one who spends all the time at home."
Across the market table full of wares, a unicorn stallion nodded back. "I hear you. I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to strangle my own beloved from time to time."
"If there were more jobs available in this place, then maybe she'd get her hooves dirty and she'd understand that when I come home all I wanna do is rest my flank. And it's not like the roof needs to get fix that desperately. I mean, there's less rain this time of year. I've got months yet to fix it."
"How much does she get out, anyway?"
"Oh, not... much... at all..." The earth pony's voice trailed off.
The unicorn raised his eyebrow. "Hmm? What's gotten you so flummoxed...?" He too stared over towards the side.
From across the street in the middle of the village, a cloaked figure hobbled. The equine was making a bee-line for the marketplace, with everypony around him pausing in the middle of their activities to stare. At one point, he bumped awkwardly into a wooden post, took a step back, reoriented himself, and made directly for the vendor stand, where he came to a shuffling stop.
"Uhhhm..." The unicorn squinted. "May I help you?"
"Ahem, yes, I was wondering if I could—" The figure's obscured face grimaced, his teeth grinding as if something was screeching in his ears. He sighed, cleared his throat again, and spoke in a low monotone, 'Hello... uh... kindly pony with a coat so fair. This is a bright morning for Ledomare."
The unicorn and earth pony exchanged glances, then looked once more at the cloaked stranger. "Well... it most certainly is, I suppose..."
"I hope your spirits are well, for I have... s-some things to sell."
"You wish to pawn some possessions of yours?"
"I wish to trade for a map and a meal, for I have a journey to make with much zeal..."
"Well, alright then, let's see what you have to offer."
"Yes... What I have... uhm..." The figure fidgeted, leaning his head to the side as if he was getting an earful.
The two ponies squinted curiously.
Unbeknownst to them, high above and perched atop a cloud, Rainbow Dash hid with the mana sphere of O.A.S.I.S. in her grasp. She peered over the fluffy bed of wisps, smirking as she whispered into the glowing ball. "Okay, Stripsey. Now pivot about twenty degrees to the left so that they think that you're looking at their wooden wall of stuff. From up here, I see a canvas bag of potatoes and some flour. If he's got a map, though, I bet he's hiding it."
Back down below, Pilate lingered under the cloak for a few seconds, sweating. He felt dozens of eyes on him while Rainbow Dash finished her speech.
"Reach into the saddlebag and pull out the hatchet." Rainbow's voice murmured to Pilate an Pilate alone. His metal plate of runes flickered from under the "hood" of the blanket over his head. "Place it on the table and try to pawn it."
"Okay..." He murmured from underneath his breath.
"Remember! You gotta rhyme!"
He gritted his teeth, but nevertheless reached into his saddlebag, pulled an item out, and slapped it onto the table. "Here, good gentlecolts, I have a blade. Of the finest metal quality... erm... it is made."
The two ponies stared blankly. "Uhm... That's a hat, not a blade."
Pilate gulped. He placed a hoof out and felt around the item, feeling the undeniable contours of a beret. "Oh... well of course it is." He winced. "Er, I mean. I know quite well it's a military hat, but I have the blade in addition to that!"
"Try it again, Stripsey."
"Quit rushing me," Pilate whispered, reached into his saddlebag again, and plopped the hatchet onto the table. "As you can see, its sharpness is quite unique. At twenty paces it could slice a—"
"Uhm, what are you doing?"
Pilate's hooves squirmed. "I am... simply attempting to... barter and trade with the fine citizens this Confederacy has made!"
"Yeah, we can see that, but why in the Queen's name are you speaking in rhyme?"
"Cuz you're a zebra shaman from the other side of the country!" Rainbow's voice cracked into Pilate's ears. "Tell them!"
Pilate sighed long and hard, but grinned regardless, making sure that his gray eyes were obscured from the sight of the ponies before him. "I'm a zebra of shamanistic livelihood, and you will find that I was born in a faraway neighborhood! I travel the world in search of meaning, and for that reason you will find my presence in this town fleeting."
"But that still doesn't explain why you talk in rhyme."
"Yes... well.. is it not a widely known fact that zebras are known for their lyrical tact?"
The two ponies exchanged glances, then gazed back at him. "Uhm... No. No, it isn't."
Pilate groaned. "That's what I thought too..."
"Huh?"
A magical voice squawked in Pilate's ear. He groaned, shook his head, and put on a plastic smile. "Then I must be one of a kind! So, please, good sir, what price for the hatchet have you in mind?"