The Source of Bemusement

A long legged, small torsoed human male(1) put the final touches on complex diagrams inscribed on the floor, tongue out in concentration.

Here is what was important. His name was Joachim and he was more fit and more wealthy than most mages as a consequence of his job: Joachim wrote planar travel guides(2)(3)

He rechecked the calculations, and diagrams, then opened his travel log. Apparently his next scheduled stop was the hypothetical Material Plane of Harmony. That certainly sounded nice, but he had a long experience with things that sounded nice.

He added a couple of extra layers of reinforcement to his protective enchantments, and double checked the talisman that should keep him separate from the local physics long enough to neither instantaneously die, nor lose his ability to cast magic in a non-magical plane for long enough to return home. His primary wasn't quite topped off, but overcharging the talisman could damage it, so he grabbed a third as a backup.

With a quick prayer to the goddess of swift merciful deaths stating that, if it was time for his number to come up, he would prefer it to be painless and with a minimal quantity of mess, should that be convenient with her, he stepped daintily into the center of the diagram, and flooded it with magic.

(1)On his feet he wore watertight tall brown leather wading boots with significant ankle support, steel inserts in the toes, and an impressive little spell that let him 'feel the road' without requiring paper thin soles. A pair of rich purple, so dark as to appear black, dress pants embroidered with intricate tribal patterns in black silk. A dull green tweed smoking jacket with coattails down to the back of his knees. A nearly golden tan silk vest with an interlocking pattern of feathers, flames, and flowers embroidered into it in gold wire, over a simple slate grey shirt. On his face he wore thick turtle shell rimmed glasses, and a thin beard rimming his cheeks and chin. On his head he wore a worn leather hat, with the traditional wide brim, narrow point and equally traditional array of hidden compartments and pockets(4).
(1 cont)His face was charitably described as congenial, and rudely described as equine with wide, placid brown eyes, a particularly long and wide nose, a noticeable overbite, and a weak chin that readily disappeared into his neck. Despite his relative youth, his hairline had receded enough that he resembled a monk, and what little hair he had was an ugly shade of dark greyish-brown similar to the one found in mixed clay silt barrels at the local potter. None of this was important, except perhaps, to set the scene for a particularly frivolous work of fiction.
(2)Joachim was chosen for this position by the University of Rhimesand due three important traits. First, his particularly long legs. Second, his impressive records on the university Track team for endurance running, sprinting, and the combination therein. He had been the first from his university to even finish the lengthy Fuller's Trek run, and had managed to finish first, well ahead of even the professional athletes competing in the grueling trek that year, with the eleventh fastest time in history. Thirdly was his mastery of instinctive scrying, referred to by laymen as 'Danger sense', allowing him to preemptively avoid dangerous situations, though making him twitchy and unfocused compared to his peers.
(3)This job involved teleporting into unknown, recently discovered, and occasionally hypothetical planes, followed by determining the local environmental conditions(5). Once the environment is determined to possess a survivable level of hostility, the next set of questions review the nature of the hospitality of the environment. Only once the answers to those questions are complete does he attempt to interact with the natives in order to answer important questions.(6) The assessment of the natives is generally heavy on which native species to avoid and low on what to do if a member of any given species is encountered, other than the oft repeated phrase 'run', with its close companions 'fast' and 'while screaming'.
(4)Traditional contents including spider silk string, a small sewing kit, a glasses repair kit, chalk, a notepad, a pen, a bottle of hot sauce, packets of salt, sugar, and tea, a bottle of particularly strong brandy(7), a bar of soap, a folding crossbow with a handful of bolts(8), a small pouch of gems and coins minted of a variety of metals(9), a variety of other knick-knacks and keepsakes, and a small stuffed maccaw(10).
(5)re: Will they kill a traveler on arrival? Will they kill a traveler slowly over time? What magic, if any, works?
(6)re: Will they kill a traveler on arrival? Will they kill a traveler slowly over time? What magic, if any, do they possess? as well as the more advanced questions of: Will they kill a traveler for slights or offences? What gods, if any, do they worship? Will they kill a traveler for heresy? What do they taste like? Will they kill a traveler for asking what they taste like?
(7)If brandy of sufficient strength is unavailable whisky will do. If whisky is unavailable then anything that'll cut glass or tarnish silver qualifies as both appropriate and traditional.
(8)It's said one can tell how experienced a planer traveler is by how many bolts they have managed to hide in their hat. At the last competitive bolt retrieval event Joachim had reached 27, with several in reserve just in case his coworkers turned on him or a baldersnatch(11) attacked. His supervisor had managed at least 79 likely with greater reserve. Joachim wasn't sure how his overly jolly supervisor had managed quite so many, but wasn't ruling out an army of tiny leprechauns hidden in the fat old bastard's hat manufacturing the thrice-damned things. They were nicer than his bolts too, which had simply added to the unfairness of it all.
(9)It was surprising in how many dimensions lead, iron, aluminum, tin, and plutonium were rare and expensive metals. Since they were dirt cheap at home, it never hurt to carry a few just in case.
(10)You never knew when a stuffed mccaw would come in handy. Also of use were stuffed ravens, tortoises and, in extreme situations, bengal tigers.
(11)A rare variety interdimensional creature that targeted plane travelers. It was said that a bullet forged from the silver light of the very moon itself by the thousand year old monk, Won Su Fort, was instantaneously lethal to them, but it was generally agreed that a hail of crossbow bolts had a similar level of effectiveness, with a distinct bonus of being more commonly available. On the rare occasion where that failed it was generally considered more sporting to throw one's colleagues before the beast while advancing in a retrograde direction rather than going through the effort of tracking down Won Su Fort. Not only was he notoriously hard to find, his fees were such that only the desperate(12) could afford to pay them.
(12)i.e. those currently being pursued by a bandersnatch without a single crossbow bolt, or coworker, on hand.

He opened his eyes, fighting quickly(13) through the autosomatic response of nausea common to planer travel through non perpetual diagrams. Initial impressions were that this world was survivable. The air was clear and breathable, the local magic field meshed well with his own personal magic field, and a few quick detector spells located no major chemical dangers or other sources of slow lingering death in the area. The colors were impressive, with the sky being a shade of blue rarely seen outside children's paintings, and the grass an equally vivid shade of green. Small childish parodies of flowers of unusual size sprouted from the hills around him, and a childish castle(14) was visible on a geographical oddity of a lone mountainside in the distance.

Approaching a castle, especially one as trumped up as that one, was a common beginner's mistake. Joachim was no beginner. First he went down his checklist of important questions(5). Then he performed the assessment Environment successfully assessed as being that specularly rare combination of both non-hostile and hospitable, if a tad unnerving, Joachim set four gold stars(15) out of five on his notepad. The next step was to assess the locals.

(13)His rapid recovery was readily attributable to his experience in such conditions.
(14)He remembered reading about the last time a noble had commissioned such a hall, and proclaimed himself to be Emperor of Five-Hundred Kingdoms. The magical cost of maintaining such architectural excess had bankrupted all five hundred of his trumped up 'kingly' vessels(16), leading to a rapid people's revolution(17) and a quick abandonment of the costly boondoggle.
(15)As opposed to flaming skulls of death, or stinking cesspits of sorrow, both popular options on his review chart.
(16)Given the amount of land they controlled, and their lack of personal initiative, anywhere else they would have been called 'counts' or 'ducs', not 'kings'.
(17)To this day the country was known as the People's Democratic Republic of Eastern(18) Freedonia, and opposed with stunningly excessive quantities of violence all attempts to bring the country back under the beneficent rule of aristocrats and nobility. The last king to rally an army against them had, in fact, found himself short one army as the surfs butchered their knightly commanders and applied for Freedonain citizenship.
(17 cont)A week later he had been found dead in the bathtub with his head thoroughly detached from his neck, and two of his fingers firmly jammed up his own nose. The cause of death had been ruled 'accidental suicide'. This was seen as an appropriate and wise decision by the counsel of judges, especially as efforts to locate the previous Freedonian Ambassador for questioning had failed in a spectacular, and gory, fashion. The king's successor was sworn in under promises to curb his kingdom's expansionist movement, and peace had returned to the area. At least until some other fool king got the idea to try to take Freedonia again.
(18) The location of Western Freedonia being a long unanswered mystery. No records of such a country ever existed at any time, but since there was an Eastern Freedonia, a western one must exist, quod erat demonstratum. This was, at least, the answer that the locals gave about the geographical reference to their name when asked by scholars from more civilised(19) countries.
(19) I.E. Where serfdom is still practiced, how the law treats you depends on to whom you were born, running water is generally unavailable to the masses, literacy was under 5% and more than 16% of the population dies of malnutrition or preventable illness every year. But at least they write their important records in the appropriate dead languages(20), as opposed constructing a system of writing to phonetically apply to the common tongue, and keeping records therein.
(20)The older and deader the better, especially if you can't prove that the language didn't die of natural causes.

It did not take long to find a town. It never did. Joachim was uncertain if this said more to the nature of the cosmos(20), or the nature of the planer travel spell itself. The bright and colorful town reminded Joachim of a drawing his three year old niece had made of her dream city for him before she had disappeared into his closet trailing unknown sticky fluids(21).

In the center of the town was a large tree, in full technicolour splendor. Other notable buildings included one of the most ostentatiously pompous town hall he had ever seen, a child's parody of a little red school house, a building that appeared to be it's own large carnival ride for small children, as well as one that appeared to house some sort of child eating witch of the baking variety, both apple and carrot farms pressed so close to the town as to be improbable without space warping magic, and a handful of houses floating on clouds in the sky.

Even more unusually, the town was on the outskirts of a forest that would be aptly described with the childish phrases 'dark' and 'spooky'. This significantly raised the danger level of the inhabitants in Joachim's mind, recalling the strange, fierce creatures that had rigged lava guns into their mountain fortress to keep the abundant dangers(22) at bay. There too had he seen a similar proximity of a childishly 'good'(23) and equally childishly 'evil'(24) environment, with sentients(25) living in the interface between the two.

With a soft gulp, he cast an invisibility spell and began to approach the town, looking for any isolated residents to interview, away from the potentially lethal grasp of the mob.

(20)The Keith-Busch theorem stated that it was statistically impossible to be further than 3 hours sustained travel from the nearest bar.
(21)The ability of three year olds to generate and acquire sticky fluids, especially in the presence of expensive tailoring, was legendary.
(22)For example carnivorous parodies of elephants, skeletal land-walking trout of death, and giant purple gorilla men.
(23)Home to annoying pixies and a peculiarly strong beverage known as sunberry wine.
(24)Home to an unusual meat based grass known as 'staring eyeball', and clouds that cause internal organs to liquify and seep out through one's skin.
(25)How sentient a creature that raised their babies by throwing them in a pit full of hungry dogs, toughened themselves up by lighting themselves on fire and dousing themselves repeatedly to literally melt away all their fat, forced their nobles to off themselves in unusual fashions, referred to themselves as the slaves of the 'blood god Armock', worshiped various forms of cheese despite lacking the technology to make it, and managed to know exactly how much of anything was in their fortress at any given time through magical self updating bookkeeping records was a question for other scholars.

It took Joachim a while to realize that the colorful pegasi, unicorns, and horses he saw zipping around were, in fact, the sentient residents f the town. It was the sight of one of them swinging a hammer with it's mouth that finally sold him. It was strange to see the strange, big headed, parodies of creatures so common on his world.(26) As far as size was concerned, they seemed about average for horses, with most of their backs being just above, or just below his shoulder height. He decided not to approach a unicorn nor a pegasus, after seeing a white unicorn lift hundreds of needles and threads with pure magic, and watching a rainbow maned pegasus perform aerial stunts that made him feel distinctly ill on the ground.

While he explored he heard a loud screeching sound, and nearly bolted as an iron dragon(27), tied to the ground, approached a wooden block platform in town. The smoke belching, bellowing dragon came to a screaming stop, and the carts it had been dragging behind it disgorged a massive tide of horses. Joachim screamed(28), and discovered that, in a pinch, most of the trees here were readily climbable. Another positive trait to add to his list.

He didn't leave the tree until the horrible metal monster went away, more horses entering it's carts to leave for unknown locals and purposes.

Eventually he found one of the ponies who met his criteria. A blind mained, pink bodied pony. The pony was alone, wearing some sort of helmet with goggles on her head. He approached her cautiously, feeling fortunate that she was engrossed in maintaining some sort of extremely large balloon.

(26) He had kept and ridden(29) a unicorn while he was a young man and still fit the requirements(30). Seeing so many unicorns here brought back fond memories of Potoooooooo, named for her favorite root vegetable. He remembered currying her with the curry-comb. The way she eagerly pressed her body against the brush. Sharpening her horn to a polished sheen with increasingly fine grades of sandpaper. The way she rolled in the fresh lilac meadows, more like a large dog than a vicious creature of war. The way she tore into the steaks he had brought her, getting blood all over her pristine maine, and the way she had protected him from many a mugging attempt by skewering the mugger on her horn, typically followed by promptly ripping off and eating the mugger's arm.
(27)Scholars would have identified the creature as a train, to Joachim, and would have told him there was nothing to be afraid of. Were they in his position, they would have stood on the tracks excitedly, and wound up a red stain across the front of the fast moving vehicle. There was a reason it was Joachim doing this job, and not scholars.
(28)This prompted many ponies to look for the source of the apparently random scream. When they were unable to locate it, they calmed down. This was a worrisome sign to Joachim, as it showed that random screams were a regular occurrence here.
(29)He had tried riding pegasi and normal horses, but he didn't have a head for heights, and it was true what they said, once you'd ridden a unicorn, a normal horse would never satisfy you.
(30) Unicorns were bred for war by a particularly vicious mage. If their rider didn't smell right they would generally rip the poor creature from their back, trample them a little, then eat them.

Joachim approached the big headed pink horse creature. "Hello"(31) he said, from his cover of invisibility.

"What?" The irritated voice responded. No initial violence. Score one!

"What are you doing?" He followed the greeting up with.

"Fixing this gully-winged balloon, that's what." The pink and gold pony said

Feeling that a rapport had begun between the two, Joachim decided to take a bit of a risk. He got his old curry comb out of his hat, and tip toed over to the pony. A quick glance revealed that she was a mare. He touched the brush against her hide, and she squeaked in shock.

He stopped, and she turned to glare at him suspiciously. "What in the moon are you?" she asked.

"Just a traveler" he said, waggling the brush at her "May I brush you."

"Jeez, you're forward. Asking a strange mare if you can brush her." she snorted at him with a half whinny

"Oh. Well" He started to put the brush away reluctantly

"I didn't say no!" she said loudly, eyes wide "Get that brush back out here and brush my mane!" she commanded, turning to pose for him.

"Alright then" he said with a soft laugh, as he began to brush her. "Can you tell me a little about this place?"

"This is ponyville my friend" she said "Ah, there. That's the spot. Harder" She was pushing her body against his comb, just like his unicorn used to. He used his freehand to rub her behind the ears.

"Mmmm... Yeah.... Nicest place in Equestria. Most eligible mares per capita... ohhh yeahhhh... mmmm... an' home of the elements... mmm... of harmony"

"Elements of Harmony? What are those?" He asked, smiling as he worked the flecks of sweat, oil, and grease out of her short fur.

"I don't know, you'd have to ask a specialist, like Twilight. She holds the element of... mmmmmagic I think?" She murmured

He finished one side of her, and started on the other "And... what gods do you worship?" he asked working his way down the list(6).

"Gods? What do you mean?" She asked curiously

"Beings of great power, lift the sun and moon, recreate the world in their image, that sort of thing." He said offhandedly

"You mean like Celestia and Luna? They raise the sun and moon. Except Luna used to be Nightmare Moon, but the elements of harmony made her good again or something.... Or like Discord? He can recreate the world in his image. He used to be really evil, but the elements of harmony made him good. Somehow."

Joachim was struck with a strong urge to widdle himself. Powerful mindcontroling magics to 'make people good'. He knew everything couldn't be perfect!

"Alright" He said, working his way down the list(6) "What do ponies like yourself taste like?"

She turned to stare at him. "You been talking to Pinkie Pie?" she asked curiously

"Ahhh.... no." He said, confusedly.

"Right, well that mare went around licking everypony(31) yesterday. Was right annoying. Don't imitate that, kay?" She said seriously

"Uh... kay?" He said in confusion, brush stopping.

"Did I say you could stop? Finish up my tail, will you" she demanded imperiously

"Kay." He said, simply

List complete(6) Joachim enjoyed the final task, then headed off. "Wait, before you go. What's your name strange traveler?" she asked

"Joachim" He answered simply

"Strange name. Mine's Cherry Berry, air mistress extraordinaire. Hope to see you around!"

"Perhaps you will" Was all the nervous man could manage. He stepped away. He wrote down his unusual rating for this universe. 5 out of 5 golden stars(15) for hospitality and general niceness, and 6 out of 5 flaming skulls of death for danger level and powerfulness of the locals. With that he stepped a universe to the left, slipped into the tow-stream, and let the flow take him back home.

All in all, he decided, it had been a fairly bemusing day.

(31) it was well known that the standard planer travel spell automatically provided translation. What was less well known was that the translation spell could be modified. Joachim amused himself by replacing the phrases 'someone' 'somebody' 'everyone' and 'everybody' with a rough description of the speaker's race in the place of one and body. This always annoyed the people who had to use the portals after him.

Rarity noticed there was something... different about Cherry Berry when she entered Carousel Boutique that day. "Darling, you absolutely must tell me where you got your main styled? I've never seen such a thorough job"

"Oh, just some diamond dog named Joachim" Cherry said with a smile "He was quite the gentleman."

Huh. Cherry and a Diamond Dog, Rarity thought. Well, there was no accounting for taste. Now if only she could get little Spikey Wikey to stand still next time she fitted him for a tux. He could cut quite a dashing figure, if he didn't somehow manage to perpetually make her best work look rumpled.

(fin)

Author's Note:

Based on an IRC conversation, much like Hurricane Twilight. This one about how hardly any human in equestria fics had the humans be mages from a magic using world where unicorns and pegasus were not too unusual.

I wrote this in less than a day, which is why I run out of steam towards the end. It's not really worth taking several days to write and perfect. Also yay for experimenting with footnotes!

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