//------------------------------// // Chapter 11, Rough negotiations... (The Warm Welcome, Part 2) // Story: Meta Gamer in Equestria: Odyssey // by reflective vagrant //------------------------------// My cell was strangely clean for a feudal era style prison. The walls were stone, and no window was available to the outside immediately near my cell, but the room was still well enough lit with what was probably fixed torches high up on the walls that were outside the cells. All my stuff had been taken away before I woke and I found myself without even clothes, naked in the cell. Had I not seen many more of the residents being publicly nude than clothed, I'd have thought it was to break me. Instead, I resigned it to standard procedure, not ridicule. It felt a little cold, but oddly, only to a degree that felt like it would have been comfortable in anything more insulating than summer wear. It wasn't nearly as dank or dark as any dungeon I'd have come to expect from a prison made of cobblestone. A water bowl sat at the edge of the bars not too dissimilar to an animal's cage at a shelter, and was filled with water that was so clear I could have sworn it came from a tap. What looked like bread sat there on a plate next to a carrot. It certainly wasn't as well thought out as the zebra shaman's first offer of food. It was basic, but the quality of being basic showed me that it was clear they didn't want me to think I was going to be ill treated. That's what scared me the most as I came to finish my initial exploration of the cell. I could tell that they wanted something from me and felt treating me nice was the way to get it. I wasn't about to let Stockholm syndrome set in. Sure, they were the boss. I wasn't about to fight them or resist. They held all the cards and I was at their mercy. But I wasn't going to play nice and do whatever they wanted. I may have been a privileged prisoner, but I was still a prisoner. Even if I were in a nice suite in a hotel, the scowls on the guards' crystalline faces would still been enough to tell me I wasn't liked. They weren't simply uneasy of me like the horses in town, they genuinely didn't like me and they didn't care if I knew it or not. Hours had passed since I first found myself in the cell. My water bowl and bread were changed out twice that day by a pair of those crystalline looking horses. Almost like routine, he'd levitate his spear towards me, I'd back off and press against the edge of my cell, sitting, and the other guard would grab the bowl and plate, replacing them with new ones. The carrot was exchanged for an eggplant, then an apple the second time. When they found I hadn't touched either even hours later, I could see that they were perplexed. They may have asked me questions in that bizarre language of theirs, probably asking why I wouldn't eat, but I didn't bother humoring them. Instead, I just sat there and waited for whatever they had in store for me. My paranoid side didn't want to take the risk of it being laced with something and darn it if that paranoia wasn't what kept me alive out in the woods before I met the zebra, and even to a large part of it after. Not trusting them was one of two options I had, the other being to blindly trust the beings that assaulted and imprisoned me without any clear warning of what I did wrong. Yea, being a bit paranoid seemed like the safer bet right then. Not cooperating with the food, at least right off the bat, was the best way I could think of to let them know I wasn't going to just role over for them... again... now that I wasn't paralyzed. I didn't have too long to wait before the interrogations began. That very day, shortly after I refused my last change of food, the horse that I had seen in armor came towards me with her horn sparking with magic again. I was chained by the neck, hands bound, and my mouth gagged until I reached an interrogation room. That's where I can't remember all that clearly. The interrogations bled together, two to three times a day, I think. Every time I'd be yelled at in her alien tongue, with nothing to show for it. I think by the end of the second day, she was starting to not have to fake the throbbing veins on her forehead. Sure, I tried to explain to them that I didn't understand what they were saying. But when I raised my hands up off the table to cup my ear, the chains would shock me. When I tried speaking, I was slapped and scolded. Apparently, they thought I was fluent in their language. Every so often, when I wasn't suffering from a bout of weakness brought on by not eating or drinking I'd hear "Yes us no?" and recognize the words the griffin taught me. I made a point to presume that the middle word was something to the effect of "or," but that's about all I was able to learn. Not that it mattered. Giving a response without knowing what question I was answering would have opened a whole other can of worms. They didn't hurt me besides the one slap and the shocks when I lifted my hands, nor were they making me go without. So since they weren't exactly motivating me to talk through those routes, I wasn't compelled to just give them the answer they wanted to make it stop. By the end of the third day's interrogations, I was getting pretty thirsty. The hunger was there too, sure, but I had gotten used to that. But I hadn't actually gone thirsty for any extended period of time in the woods. I sat in my cell for a while, my mind wandering on options. Should I drink from the bowl? Should I call for the guards again and try to tell them I can't understand them? Should I go full on bear and knock some heads? Should I sneak out as a rat or something? Thinking about what forms I could take made my mind wander back to my old dungeons and dragons campaign... Moss had all sorts of spells that could be useful. Creating water out of thin air once a day was something he could do just because of his race. Being a druid would grant him access to food. He had a plethora of spells from his other classes too. There was even one that might help him understand them, if I could just cast the darn thing! About all I'd been able to do was use his shape shifting and that silly little feeling I got on the back of my neck that pulled the chances of luck to my favor every now and then. Neither had all that much stamina, one or two good uses before I expended myself at best. Sneaking out wasn't an option, there weren't any rats around to blend in with and even if I could somehow change into the form of my captors, the security was too tight to slip though that way. I discovered spells were too complicated to figure out on my own without a guide. At most I could get the chance to hear an animal speak the same gibberish as they do. I had nothing I could use... Not even the clothes on my back. The guards seemed to be on edge, waiting for a chance to attack. It happened every time my gag was removed after my cell door was closed. Even speaking up might provoke them. It was clear they thought I knew how to cast spells. After seeing the wand and spell books in my stuff, I wouldn't blame them. I'd do the same to a spell caster. Heck, I'd leave the gag on and feed him through a straw. I had already ran into spell casters before I even reached town. I doubt the shaman's griffon student only knew how to talk to weasels. He probably had a few nastier tricks up his non existent, nudest sleeves to compliment his talons if he found himself in a pinch. Precautions were understandable, if a bit irritating. In the early morning of a later day, I had lost count, they saw me stumble in my cell out of weakness and collapse. Well, I don't remember collapsing, but I do remember a feeding tube being pulled out of my mouth as I woke up a couple of hours later. I caught a glimpse of another non crystalline horse in another room, arguing to the horse that had been constantly interrogating me with sparks coming from her horn. My interrogator saw that I was awake and promptly slammed the door to that room shut, but not before I caught a glimpse of her horn without the sparks. It was broken. I was promptly gagged and returned to my cell. There weren't any interrogations that day. The guards were just as leery of me, but their scowls had softened a pinch. I still skipped first meal, having strength from the force feeding they did to me to hold onto my resolve and get my bearings again. But by the second meal, I figured that if they were going to force feed me, there was no further purpose in refusing. I had made my point and if they wanted to drug me, they could have done it through the feeding tube. Gingerly, I took the eggplant from the plate, started chewing and got a little water to soften the bread. I don't think I had ever enjoyed eating soggy bread before, or eggplant for that matter. But my stomach wasn't feeling too picky. About mid way through the next day, I was taken for another interrogation. The sparkling unicorn once again started asking questions, but in a much calmer tone, bulging veins gone. When it was clear that she still wasn't getting anywhere, she kicked at the door in a meaningful pattern. A few moments later, that other non crystalline horse from before came in. Now that I could get a good look at her, I saw that her coat was an almost pinkish lavender, with a purple and blue mane and a look of confidence in her eyes. Behind her she levitated multiple books, including one I recognized as Moss's. She wore a grin that looked like she was trying to keep from spreading from ear to ear as she came to the table. She set the books down on the far end and lit up her horn with a strong glow. Two tiny lights circled upwards from the base to the tip of her horn with a trail behind them. Suddenly, the room came alive with energy for a few seconds. When all was said and done and the room was calm again, she lifted up an amulet I didn't see before with her levitation and placed it around my neck. She then came around the table and made what I felt was the most beautiful sound in the known universe. "Can you hear me now?"