//------------------------------// // Witcher Geralt Does The Usual // Story: Librarian Twilight Tries To Befriend A Newcomer To Equestria But He's Geralt The White Wolf And Doesn't Really Get Friendship // by SoloBrony //------------------------------// "Welcome to Appleloosa, partner. I'm guessin' you're the witcher?" Geralt wearily paused his stumbling to lean against the corner of the saloon and glanced down at the pony. Some kind of badge for a cutie-mark, and a hat for the heat. Sensible. "Mhm." The sheriff removed his hat and gave a sweeping bow. "Pleasure to meet you then, Geralt. I'm Sheriff Silverstar, I sent the letter." Geralt nodded, rubbing his face. "Figured by the mark. I usually go looking for work on notice-boards; surprised to get a request directly." "You're gettin' famous! They say you took on a pack of timber wolves out in the Everfree!" Geralt scowled at the memory. "Yeah. Not a huge threat, but not a great welcome to Equestria, either." The sheriff scoffed and smirked. "Well, if you don't consider a full pack of timbers to be a big threat, then I think you'll handle this job just fine." Geralt shrugged. "If it's all the same to you, I'll wait until the morning to find out. The train broke down and I had to jog here from Canterlot." The sheriff winced in sympathy. "That's one long journey. No wonder you're worn out!" Geralt shook his head. "I'm a witcher. My mutations give me the endurance for journeys like that. Problem was the Royal Gryphon I ran into on the way here. I was told Equestria only had small-sized gryphons like the ones in Griffonstone." Silverstar stared at Geralt for a few moments before speaking. "You mean you ran into that monstrosity already? Why, that's what I summoned you for! That thing was really a gryphon, huh? It was so huge and vicious-looking I couldn't believe it!" Geralt groaned. "Great. Here." The witcher tossed a sack on the ground next to the sheriff. Silverstar opened it only to recoil in horror and disgust. "What in tarnation?! Is that the beast's head?!" "Mhm." "What in blazes did you go and bring that here for?!" The witcher shrugged, subconsciously shifting his sword into easy reach. "Habit. If I take down a creature outside of the borders of a town, I generally grab a trophy to prove my kill, in case someone will pay me for dealing with it." Silverstar gaped at Geralt in disbelief for a few moments before gaining his composure, closing his mouth. "You've been killin' for money for a long time, huh?" And there it is. Pretty soon people here will treat me just like they did back home. Well, it was fun while it lasted. "Mhm." Silverstar shook his head, and his expression turned to pity. "Partner, I am dang sorry to hear that this is normal where you come from. I'd have just taken your word for it that the thing was dead, but I have to admit seeing the living proof sure seals the deal. I'll get'cher pay. You grab a rest in the watering hole, you've earned it in spades." Geralt was left blinking in confusion as the sheriff sauntered off to his office. Did he just... pity me? Geralt chuckled into the empty night. These ponies never fail to surprise me... And with that, Geralt slowly made his way into the saloon, seating himself at the bar. The mare behind the bar smiled warmly at him. "What can I get you, hun?" Geralt chuckled. "What's the hardest alcohol you serve here?" The bartender smirked. "We've got some raw moonshine, if that's your fancy." Geralt nodded. "How much do you have?" The bartender balked slightly. "What do you mean?" "I mean, how much do you have stored here? I'll probably buy all of it. And a drink – some cider, I guess." The bartender's expression screwed up in confusion, and she shook her head. "We've still got most of a big barrel in the back..." "Great. I'll take the barrel of moonshine, and a regular keg of cider. And..." The witcher had tried to get used to the diet of fish and vegetables he'd been forced to adopt in this country, but there was just no adjusting to a tavern without a proper steak on offer. "... I guess I'll have some fritters and potatoes." The bartender nodded with a smile and began laying out the table. When she returned from the back room, to the witcher's surprise, he got a steaming plate of roasted potato slices and fritters made with potato and spinach, all covered in gravy. He hesitantly tried a bite of it, and was surprised that the gravy almost tasted right. Either I'm turning into a pony bit by bit, or this place really knows its cooking. The bartender smiled warmly. "You like it? I noticed those little fangs you've got, so I got out the gravy I heard the gryphons like." Geralt smiled despite himself. "It's good. Well done. I'll need to ask after the recipe, it's been hard to find something decent in Equestria." The bartender bent a hoof in a 'nailed it' gesture the witcher recognized from Rainbow Dash. "I'll get your drinks!" As she departed again, the witcher started in on his food, thoroughly content until he heard rising voices from a couple of the other patrons in the bar. "I told you, we bought that land fair and square! Take it up with the sheriff!" "I don't give a buck what the sheriff says, that land's ours! We never would've let it go if we'd known what was under it!" "Well maybe it you'd actually lived there for a little while you'd—OOF!" The witcher sighed as the argument escalated into violence. Do I bother getting involved? With a shrug, Geralt took a bit out of his pocket and flipped it, checking the result. Looks like I'm in on this one. The witcher swung around on his barstool. What greeted his eyes was utter chaos; two pegasi were buzzing around, hurling various pieces of furniture at an earth pony, who was unsuccessfully trying to shield himself from the projectiles by jumping from cover to cover. He already had a few nasty-looking bruises on his coat. Geralt stood up and strode to the center of the room, glaring up at the pegasi. "Knock it off." One of the pegasi responded by hurling a chair at the witcher. Guess I know which side I'm on, now. Geralt sidestepped the chair, catching it as it passed, and hurled it back, weaving the sign of Aard with his other hand. The chair rocketed back at the offending pegasus at a dangerous speed; the pony was barely able to get most of their body out of the way, but the chair's impact on their wings sent them careening into a booth, which they crashed into with a thunderous impact. I'm guessing they're not flying again soon. The witcher pointed a thumb at the crash site while looking at the remaining pegasus, who was glaring daggers at him. "You don't want to get grounded like your pal, then get down here and start straightening up this bar." The pegasus dove at Geralt, who rolled his eyes. Trying to clip me in the head and stay out of my reach, huh? Typical flyer tactic. The witcher squatted low, forcing the pegasus to dive lower to even try to hit him. When they got close, Geralt sprang at them with unnatural agility, overpowering the pegasus' velocity and taking them straight out of the air. He slammed the pegasus into the ground and got a good look at them. Adult male. Couple scars. Probably does this often. Well, this'll cure him of that. Just as the pegasus shook off the daze of the sudden impact, Geralt sprang back and away from them, grabbing one of their hooves. The witcher yanked hard, pulling the pegasus into an arc in the air around him, and then slammed him down into a table. Geralt heard the pegasus cry out, and then start gasping for air. Knocked the wind right out of him, seems like. Geralt patiently waited for the pegasus to uncompress his chest. When he finally sucked in a proper breath and tried to stand back up, the witcher grabbed his hind hoof again and yanked it out from under him, pulling most of him off of the table – and letting his head clip the side of it on his way down. Solid impact. Not enough to make a concussion, but he'll feel that tomorrow. With the second pegasus on the ground moaning in pain, Geralt spared a glance at the rest of the bar. Most of the other patrons were staring slack-jawed or cheering him on. The earth-pony he had assisted had already departed, and he spotted Silverstar clapping irons on the other pegasus. The sheriff gave Geralt a nod, and then turned back to his captive. "Causing trouble again, Sky? That's it. You and your brother are going into lockup for a week this time. We don't tolerate this kind of thing in Appleloosa, and you dang well know it!" The witcher chuckled and let the sheriff take the other pegasus off of his hands. He thought little of the incident, going back to his dinner. Until he received a letter the next morning.