//------------------------------// // Chapter 5 // Story: The Tome of Faust // by DungeonMiner //------------------------------// The red onion soup that Mouse ate that midday was the best meal in a long time. The sliced, red rings were caramelized, and the broth was rich, and seasoned with rosemary and basil. Of course, it helps that hunger makes the best seasoning. Mouse desperately wanted to spend more, to buy the rolls of bread to go with it, the carrots, the daffodil brandy, and so much more. But he had just a little more than a gold now, and he needed to make it stretch for as long as he could. He’d have to stay in the old abandoned house, but if he could feed himself, then he was moving in the right direction. Just to be sure, he double checked his coins. 1 gold, 1 silver, and eight copper bits. If he ate this onion soup once per day, then he could last eleven days. It wouldn’t be the best, and he would certainly be sick of onions by the end of it, but beggars can’t be choosers. He could do it. He had eaten worse that than. He had eaten less than that, and it would give him more time to try and find some kind of source of income. All he had to do was find something. He sighed, before his eyes fluttered up to the mare behind the counter. “What about you? Do you have any work for me?” The mare blinked. “I…no...I-I have some odd jobs you could do for a silver, but not a real job.” Mouse sighed. “Well...I might as well, right?” “You could,” a voice said behind him, “or you can do one for me for five times the price.” Mouse turned, and he blinked as he saw a young, short stallion that looked vaguely familiar. The short pony smiled beneath his hood, and Mouse could swear that he winked from beneath the cowl. “What’s the job?” Mouse asked. “Nothing hard, but you might sweat a bit,” the shorter pony said. Mouse blinked. Was that…? “So…” Mouse began. “Are you telling me you need some hired help for a heave?” The hooded stallion smiled a little wider. “Looks like we’re speaking the same language.” They were. A simple little code used by thieves, and the second language of the jail. “Thanks, but...I just left the guesthouse, I’m not looking to play the game. I think that the whole line of work is a bit too boring,” he said, letting the short stallion know that thieving was too risky for his taste. He only recently got of jail, and wasn’t interested in going back. “So instead you’re going to angle for coppers?” he asked. “Look, I’m not asking you to hoist anything. We just need another pair of eyes. You can do that.” No stealing. Just watch. "My health's waning these days," Mouse explained. "My eyes aren't what they used to be." I don't want to be a thief. I'm trying to stay out of trouble. "You're mane's not grey, old timer. You're joints may creak a bit, but if you don't exercise you'll never limber up." You don't have much choice now do you? Besides, you may take a liking to it if you try. Mouse swallowed. He...he could be a lookout. It would pay... “What if it get’s a little too hot?” Mouse asked. “Don’t worry about it. I know some coves that can amuse the birds, and with a little expense money, you’d get to go home.” A lie. A bribe. He’d walk free. “What’s does the job make?” Mouse asked. What are we stealing? The short stallion smirked. “That’s for the gentlecolts to know, but I’ll tell ya what. We’re going to to doing some flag waving down in the ken past the academy at two past a cleaning. Can you make that?” We’re going to be planning in the house next to the brothel two hours after sunset, if you want the job, be there. “Yeah…” Mouse said. “I can make that.” The short stallion nodded. “Great. See you there. Do a good enough job, and you might get a share of the stuffing.” Mouse nodded, and then he returned to his soup. You don't need to do this. It was a simple, reoccurring thought that rang through his mind like the town bell. You've only been looking for a job for two days, you can make a living without turning to crime. It was a nice thought, but Mouse wasn't sure. Every job he turned to had refused him, and the one other job that did, the one chance he had, was burned to the ground. A part of him blamed fate for that. Growing up, Mouse had cursed fate for leaving him in the prison, forgotten by anyone that cared, but that was an old excuse that Mouse knew didn't fix anything. You can be an honest pony. He wanted to be. He wanted that to be true. But the only chance he found in two days literally went up in smoke. Besides...it was only one job. You can last long enough without him. You can find another job. Could he, though? Could he find another job before the money ran out? Even if he went hungry again there was no guarantee that he would find a job. If it went on long enough, then he'd be starving again, stealing just to eat. And...well...if it was going to lead there anyway... Besides, it was just one job. It was fifteen minutes to two hours after sunset. It was dark, but the lively sound of gentlecolts enjoying themselves in the old red building with a sign, marked by the face of a mare drinking from a golden goblet. Mouse walked past the old, red building, trying to ignore pleasured squeals and grunts of the mares and stallions inside. Instead, he focused on the unassuming house next door. It looked neither is well repair, nor dilapidated, it simply was. Of course, Mouse supposed that its what a bunch of thieves would want in a house. With little else to do, Mouse walked up the simple, wooden door, and knocked twice. The door creaked open, and a dark-coated mare glared at him from inside the house. “Can I help you?” “I’m the extra pair of eyes,” he said. She looked him up and down, before calling. “Is this the guy you hired?” she asked. The short stallion from before poked through, and smiled. “That’s the one.” The mare snorted, before opening the door. “Get in here.” Mouse nodded, and slipped inside. The bare, empty house was dark, almost darker than the outside but for a warm, orange light that danced along the hallway walls. “Come on,” the stallion said, motioning Mouse to follow, “we’ve got a lot of work to do.” The stallion and the mare led Mouse inside what would be a living room.Two more ponies sat in the room, staring up at him as he entered. “Gentlecolts, this is our new lookout," the short stallion said, making the barest of introductions. “Sure we can trust him?” one of the new thieves asked. His chestnut coat was broken by a handful of scars, and one of his eyes had been ruined by a wound from years ago. “He know’s the cant,” the short stallion said. “That’s better than most beggars we pull in, certainly. Besides, have you ever known me to pick the wrong pony for the job?” The other stallion spoke up. He was as tall as the chestnut stallion, but his own coat was a midnight blue. There was not a scar on his body, but he did have a large, gold tooth in the front of his smile. “Yeah, but can we trust him?” “If he wants his bits he will,” the short stallion answered. The mare grunted. “You’re gonna get us killed you know that?” The short stallion smirked. “Nah, what we have is too good for that. At worst it's the guesthouse for a night or two.” The scarred stallion grunted. “Alright, what’s yer name, lookout?” “They call me Mouse,” he offered. The gold-toothed thief laughed. “You want to go with that?” Mouse said nothing. He didn't really have anything better anyway. “Alright, ‘Mouse,’” the mare grunted, “pay attention, we’re only going to explain this once.” The thieves all looked down at the set of plans that vaguely defined a building. “We’re hitting a warehouse, the owner’s some unicorn trade baron, and we need to take him down a peg, and empty his pockets at the same time,” the short stallion instructed. “All that’s our business. All you need to do is stand out on the northwest corner, and make sure the birds don’t show up.” “And if they do show up?” Mouse asked. “Either get them to leave, or, if you can’t, let us know the heat’s coming. Can you do that?” Mouse swallowed. “I...I can.” “Good,” the short stallion said, before handing three silver bits over. “Once we leave, you’re on your own. Don’t worry about the rest of the cash, we’ll find you, and square up. And remember, do well, and a little more will come your way. Understand?” Mouse nodded. “Glad you can follow along,” the short stallion said, before turning to the others. “Let’s go.” The thieves led Mouse down to the foot of the mountain, where a large, wooden building sat waiting. “Alright,” the short stallion said, as he looked up the wall. “Stay here, and let us know if the birds show up. We'll be in and out in twenty minutes at least. You'll hear a whistle when we're done. You ready?” Mouse nodded, and the four thieves slipped into the shadows. With a few leaps, and the aid of a rope, they climbed up to one of the high, glass-less windows along the roof of the wooden building, and they slid inside. And Mouse stood outside, and waited. It was quieter here. Much quieter. There were no brothels or taverns nearby, only the empty houses of a hoof-full of businesses, all closed, most for several hours now. A single street lamp, lit this dark stretch of road, but it was dark, and flickering. He looked left, down the road, into the darkness. He looked right, and the darkness met him again. And he waited. And waited. And waited. Still nothing approached from the darkness. “So far, so good,” Mouse thought to himself. A few moments passed in the utter, complete silence that dominated the darkness, and Mouse released a single, shaky breath. And then he heard something Chunk, chunk, chunk. Mouse blinked as he heard the sound. That unmistakable sound of armored hooves marching down stone. His breath caught in his throat, and he began to back up, trying to find a shadow to hide in. “And that’s how I saved the whole town from a whole Bramble Bite invasion!” one of the guards said, flying over the cobblestone streets. The pegasus had a brilliant shock of dull orange hair, and his coat was a dark red. His face was caught in a smug grin, even as he stroked his own ego more and more with each passing sentence. For every ounce of pride in the pegasus’ voice, the earth pony mare that walked beside him held an equal ounce of contempt. She rolled her eyes, even as she scanned the shadows along the street. She also wore the golden armor of the guards, and she wore a long-handled earth pony sword at her side. Her white coat shone in the lamplight, and her golden hair almost sparkled. “Sure you did,” she mumbled up at the pegasus beside her. “Yeah, it was pretty dangerous, but it wasn’t that big of a deal,” the pegasus continued, smirking the entire way. The earth pony continued to scan the darkness, before she suddenly locked eyes directly into him. “Hey! You!” The pegasus stopped, and tried to follow her gaze as she stared at Mouse. “What are you doing out here at this hour?” The earth pony demanded. Mouse froze, even as the pegasus locked onto him. He felt his heart freeze in his chest as both guards stared at him. His brain panicked, running in circles as it tried to come up with an answer. Any answer. The guards began to move closer. “Sir?” Something! Anything! “I-I was hired.” “Hired?” The mare asked. “Hired to do what?” Mouse began to panic harder. Why, oh why did he have to say that? Why not just admit that he was working with some thieves? That would be so much better, wouldn’t it? “Hired...hired to watch, ma’am,” Mouse said, trying to fill the silence so he wouldn’t get in trouble. “What do you mean?” She asked. “I...was hired to watch the building,” Mouse said. “The owner was worried that perhaps someone would break in tonight, so he’s paying me three silver to watch it for him.” The mare squinted. “I...I’m just desperate, sirs...I didn’t mean to bother such important ponies as yourselves,” Mouse continued, hoping the flattery would keep them from digging further. The pegasus smiled. “Not to worry, citizen. We are simply here to try and keep Equestria safe. In fact, I’d say you’d have the easy job, since we keeps the streets so safe.” “I completely agree, good sir,” Mouse said, as his heart pounded in his chest. The mare kept staring at him. Mouse almost withered beneath her glare, before he tried again to direct her attention away. “I...I have to say, I haven’t seen many earth pony guards, do you think they have room for me?” “Not likely, citzen,” the pegasus said, taking the center stage. “The guard’s having a hard enough time getting these good, simple folk integrated,” he said, pointing over to the mare. Her withering glare turned to pegasus. “I mean, unless you somehow get Princess Platinum’s eye, it’s probably not going to happen,” the pegasus finished, unaware of the ire he earned from his partner. “Oh, well, I-I was just curious, sirs,” Mouse said, as meekly as possible. “Worry not citizen,” the pegasus said, “We’re here to keep you safe.” “I-it’s appreciated, sirs,” Mouse replied. “Come along, Golden!” the pegasus said. “We have more streets to keep safe!” The earth pony mare said nothing, but gave Mouse one last look, before she continued on her way. Mouse watched them go, before he released a shaky, nervous breath. How he ever managed that, he would never know. He noticed his hooves were shaking. He took a few deep, careful breaths, and slowly, eventually stilled himself. And it was just him and the darkness. It took another few minutes, before he heard a whistle behind him. A quick glance behind revealed the short, cloaked stallion, who waved him away before running into the darkness.. It seemed their job was done. A flood of relief washed over him, and Mouse sighed, before he began walking back towards his little abandoned shack. He kept to the shadows himself, actively avoiding the street lamps as he navigated away from the warehouse, past the brothel, and finally to his own, small house. A quick spell to pick the lock, and he walked inside, and locked the door behind him. He sighed as he unfurled the cloak he was using as a blanket, and wrapped himself up, as he prepared to go to sleep. Now, he just needed to get paid. The next day, Mouse sat at the same onion soup stand, and gratefully ate the sweet, onion broth. So far there had been no sign of the short stallion, but they had said that they would find him, so he waited. The thought of a double-cross did pass his mind, but if living in the dungeon taught him anything, it was that the thieves could be trusted, especially when they were bringing you in for a job. A contact was better than yet another pony out for your blood, after all. He slurped his soup, enjoying the caramelized rings, when a figure sat beside him. “You did a good job, Mouse, just like I knew you would,” he said, before ordering some soup himself. “I have to say, my Boss is really impressed with how you amused the birds. Grade A work, right there.” Mouse nodded. “I’m glad you think so.” The short stallion slid a couple of silver bits his way. “No, you don’t understand, my Boss is very impressed.” Mouse glanced over to the stallion beside him, who stared at him with a deadly serious glint in his eye. The thief turned back to his soup. “Let me introduce myself, Mouse. The name’s Cut Purse, and I am a part of an organization that moves things. To be honest with you, you weren’t the only pair of eyes we had out there, but they were out there to watch you. “The truth is, you did a good job, you amused birds, and the rest of us got all the stuffing we needed, and more.” Cut Purse slid a could of more coins Mouse’s way. “Now the good news is that we just might some more heavy lifting jobs in the future, and you’ve certainly made enough of an impression that we want you to be that hired help. How’s that sound?” Mouse stared at the money a long time, he took the bonus before saying. “Look, it’s nothing personal, but the business you want to do is too boring. I don’t want to get back in the guest house.” “At this rate,” Cut Purse said, “You’re not going to find another job like this. We’ve got the coin you need to stay afloat, and you just might be the heavy lifter we need.” Mouse said nothing. "Look, Mouse, I remember when I saw you the other day. I saw enough to know that you were looking to work for Ol' Punch when his place burned down. Now I've met enough beggars to know that was some real bad luck." Mouse looked at him. "But you get hit with a streak of bad luck, and then, I come along, offering you a place with some of the best gentlecolts in Canterlot. Not everpony gets that shot. In fact, there are a bunch of ponies I know that would call you downright lucky for the chance. This, Mouse is your chance. We're going to get you what you really need, some good luck. We'll get you cash, a place to stay, everything. You won't have to beg another day in your life. So what are you going to say to a chance to change your luck?" Mouse looked away, choosing to stare into his bowl. Cut Purse sighed. “Alright, look, how about this. You come be our pair of eyes for the next few jobs, we pay you fair, make sure you get home, and keep your spot open. If you think that the business we have is still too boring for the pay, then you’re free to leave, no hard feelings, no strings, just business.” Mouse stayed quiet. “I need an answer,” Cut said. Mouse swallowed hard. “Fine,” he whispered. “Fine.” Cut smiled. “I knew you were a brave soul. Tonight, the same ken right when it’s getting clean. Be there,” Cut said, before sliding over his bowl of soup, and a golden bit to boot. “This is on me, get a cloak or something.” Mouse eagerly took both. Mouse stood outside the building the Cut and his gang were cleaning, clothed in his dark, wool cloak, hood over his head as he watched the darkness of the street from within the shadows of the alleys. He kept quiet, staring at the cobblestones with careful eyes. This was a bad idea. He should just leave and find an honest job. Real ponies had honest jobs. They didn’t steal or sneak around to make a living, they worked in shops, traded goods, performed services. Yet he could not. Those jobs did not want him. Instead, he found himself here. Pushed out of normal society and forced to work with thieves and low lives. Sneaking and staying in the same shadows that had accompanied him since birth. Still… It would have been nice.