//------------------------------//
// Castle Town Exploits: Part 1 
// Story: Full Lance & The Holy Roman Empire 
// by Merallakos 
//------------------------------//

Thistle looked up at Full Lance questioningly.
"Something's on your mind," Full Lance smirked. "You're thinking: 'Why on earth would we ever want to become peasants?'"
Thistle shrugged. "Something like that."
"Well!" Full Lance pointed his hoof in the air dramatically. "It is to get, a better deal!"
"Huh, you know what maybe this wan't such a good idea after all," Thistle turned and made to trot back towards the manor.
"Wait! It's dangerous to go back alone, Thistle! Let me explain more clearly!" 
Thistle sighed a long sigh and came back to Full Lance. "What is this plan you have?"
"Admittedly we don't have to dress like peasants. What I do plan to do is to go into town and try and trade this load of possibly moldy foodstuffs," Full Lance pointed at the cartfull of food behind himself. "For an equal amount of dry foodstuffs! It just so happens that when it comes to bartering, anypony we ask will be less likely to ask for groschen if we look like regular peasants instead of like lords." Full Lance nodded as he started trotting fowards.
"...I guess that makes sense," Thistle pondered. "But who're you going to trade with in the first place?"
Full Lance stopped, "Uh..." He rubbed his chin for a moment. "Well, anypony in the market should work. Plus, if they don't, they'll tell us where we should go instead!"
"I guess that still makes sense," Thistle wavered. "But couldn't we have just traded with the other manors we just passed? Even if they could only each use a little bit of the wheats, hays and oats before they went bad, we already passed enough that a lot of little bits would be enough... In fact, wouldn't it just make more sense to simply keep all our own peasants fed on the moldy stuff for a while instead of... doing this?"
"I!" exclaimed Full Lance. "I... didn't think of it that way actually," he brought a hoof to his forehead. "I guess it was kind of foolish to try something so impulsive with so little consideration. Next time I'll have to be more careful." He sighed to himself. "Too much beer last night. Still..." Full Lance scratched his chin looking north towards the Castle Town and back south towards the way he had come from. "It's too late to take anything back now. And besides, it's not like this won't work. Right?"
Thistle shrugged.
"A vote of confidence would be nice, boy," remarked Full Lance.
"Thistle," Thistle corrected.
Full Lance chuckled, "There's no winning with you, is there?"
"Only sometimes, Master."
"That reminds me, did you ever finish showing Grind Seed that hole?"
"Yup."
"...Aaaand?" propted Full Lance.
"Well, last I checked, he was gonna seal it up with bee's wax. "
"Bee's wax?" Full Lance raised an eyebrow.
"That's what he told me," Thistle shrugged.
"Well, that's Grind Seed for you." Full lance looked up at the sky, and was startled to find it was already past midday. "Well Thistle, are you in or out on the peasant thing?"
"I guess I'm in, if it'll get you a better deal?"
"Good!" Full lance stepped out of the cart's yoke. He pointed to the nearest spot of dirt, which happened to be some fallow field. "Now we must roll around in the dirt." Full Lance proceeded to lie on the dirt and roll around in it.
"Uh," Thistle watched, bewildered. "Why?"
"Because!" Full Lance said between rolls. "Peasants don't bathe!"
"Is that really true?"
"The poor ones don't!"





Ten minutes later two dirt covered ponies walked through an open grassy field towards the cobbled road leading through the partially constructed city wall.  It appeared that many parts of the wall were being constructed in parallel. In order to facilitate this, many many stone masons were distributed all along the wall, measuring, scribing, marking and rythmnically chipping away at quarried stones that would become the faces of the wall.
"Huh," Thistle remarked as they approached the front of masons. "That stallion looks weirdly familiar." Thistle pointed at a light green stallion.
"Hmm?" Full Lance said eyeing the stallion as they trotted next to him. "He kind of looks like Fresh Chip,"
"Huh?" the stallion in question perked up. "Did someone say my name?" He turned around to look at Full Lance. He stared.
"Uhhh," Full Lance stuttered.
"Woah, no way!" exclaimed the stallion."Full Lance! What're you doing here, man? And why are you so filthy?"
"Fresh Chip?" Full lance asked. "It's certainly been a while since I last saw you. How have you been doing?"
"I've been doing great, man! Thanks to The Duke, I've been working constantly since I got here. 'Course that means I've gotten more beer in a few months here than I ever did back at the manor!" Fresh Chip laughed. "Speaking of beer, I get paid by the stone, so I gotta get back to work, man! When you get back to the manor, tell Grind Seed thanks for me."
"Will do, Fresh Chip." Full Lance nodded as he trotted towards the city proper. "Good luck with the wall."
"Thanks man!" Fresh Chip called from behind.
As Full Lance and Thistle reached the main road and threshold of the city, they were approached by an armed pony wearing a coat of pale green brigandine, accompanied by a younger pony in a similarly colored padded gambeson.
"Hello," said the older pony as the pair blocked the road ahead of Full lance and Thistle. "What business do you have in Castletown... peasant?"
"Hello," Full Lance stopped in front of the pony. "What business do you have inquiring about our business inside the castle town?"
The pony chuckled huskilly. "I am Otto, a member of Duke Bell's Royal Guard. It just so happens to be my duty to check on  everpony who enters Castetown through this road. So," Otto glared at Full Lance. "What business do you have in Castletown?
"I am a simple peasant," replied Full Lance. "I have come to bargain for this grain."
Otto raised an eyebrow. "You must've come here at your lord's behest then."
"No, I am free peasant, I came here at my own behest."
Otto squinted. "...Before you can enter, my partner must check your wagon for unlicensed goods."
"Unlicensed... goods?" Full Lance asked, startled.
"Oh, you know," said the younger guardspony shuffling up to the wagon. "Hidden weapons, animals, large amounts of explosives, other weird stuff..." The guardspony inspected the half eaten remains of Tiny Hay Bale, then proceeded to dig around between the sacks of assorted grains.
"Basically," Otto said as the younger guard continued to search. "Anything you'd need permission to sell, buy, give, trade or otherwise exchange beforehand. As decreed by Duke Bell."
"Ah," nodded Full Lance nervously as the other guard continued to poke and prod between the contents of the wagon.
"Ah!" said the other guard, reaching between sacks. "I found something!"
Full Lance paled as Otto glared at him. 
"Uhh!" Full lance exclaimed, sweating. "I can explain, I swear!"
"It's..." the other guard said, repositioning himself closer to the ground to get a better angle. Straining, the guard pulled free a small pale cylindrical object. He took a moment to observe it from all angles. Half asking, half stating he said, "It's... a cup?"
"Oh," Thistle spoke. "That's mine, eheh, sorry."
The younger guard looked at Otto.
Otto just shrugged. "Looks like you're clean. Don't pull any stunts or we'll have to kick you out."
"Guess you guys are free to go," said the younger guard, depositing the cup with Thistle.
The two guards stepped aside to let Full Lance and Thistle through. They were almost all the way past the town threshold when--
"Hey! Wait!" said Otto.
"Huh!?" startled Full Lance.
"What's your name?" Otto directed at Full Lance.
"Oh, uh, I'm Fu-- Lanceful!"
"Flansful?" Otto squinted skeptically. "Strange name," he remarked. He stared a bit longer, more skeptically, then finally shrugged. "Whatever,"he said as he turned to deal with the next ponies wanting to come into town.
"Phew," Full Lance sighed as they entered the town proper.
And what a town it was. While most of the town came in form of longer, tall roofed cruck homes, A few old stone buildings stood from an age past. Interspersed inbetween the newer crucks, these stone homes were made of heavy carved carved blocks. Their glazed windows were recessed into graceful stone arches that had been carved into the walls. The overall appearance would have seemed almost fortress like, if not for the lack of fortifications and the presence of large windows. Thistle observed a few of the tenets of one such home very much echo'd the stone majesty of their edifice: clothed in fine old tunics, stoically watching the passing traffic.
Despite a healthy flow of ponies along the street, not to mention the sheer amount of ponies that must've been housed all throughout the city, neither Thistle nor Full Lance caught even a stint of stench that concentrated pony life typically produced. In fact, a remarkably pleasant smell circulated the streets.
The pleasant smell was distributed from numerous flower boxes perched beneath windows. The earthy fragrance of the flower boxes was bolstered by a few small gardens placed between the homes. While most of these plant boxes were occupied only by verdant greens, a fair few amount hosted flowering sages, cornflowers, snowdrops and asters, creating splashes of purple, blue and white along the streets and across walls. A few buildings even sported ivy creeping down from rooftop corners.
Tending to these colorful displays were a few members of Duke Bell's Royal guard, identified by their pale green uniforms.
Still, Full Lance knew that perfume alone would not be able to guise the stench of pony waste. Full Lance had heard of old Roman cities with sewers, but he seriously doubted Bell had had the time to orchestrate such a massive renovation...
As Thistle and Full Lance progressed further into the town, the buildings became taller, growing from one story, to two and three story affairs. Often each story overshadowed the previous creating a tiered effect. Gradually the buildings moved closer and closer together. Eventually each building seemed to be butted directly against the next building. However when there was space between, paved allies often filled the gap, serving occasional interloping equines.
On the road, more ponies seemed to be milling about: visiting shops, conversing, carrying goods, a couple were towing wagons full of textiles or foodstuffs. 
More and more, Thistle noticed noble-ponies, dressed in flamboyant, brightly colored clothes. Many had servants behind them. As Thistle looked, he noticed a suspicious number carrying stacks of clothing. Curiosity piqued, he looked at the pictographic signs advertising the shops and realized the street they were on was dominated largely by attire. he'd spotted two cobbler's workshops, three tailors, three more shops dedicated to general clothing and two shops that appeared to be only for dresses.
"Hey Full Lance?" Thistle asked.
"Yeah, Thistle?" Full Lance asked in turn.
"Are we going towards the market?" Thistle questioned.
"Doubtful. This is my first time on this street, so we get to see where it goes." Full Lance smiled.
"Uhhh?" Thistle squinted curiously.
"It's an adventure." Full Lance breathed. "Or at least, that's how I like to think of it."
Thistle took a long look at Full Lance. He realized that Full Lance  had a strange wistful look in his eyes, the kind he got when he found old weapons or ruins. Each step Full Lance took was more of a tiny bounce. Thistle fancied he could see Full Lance's coat almost sparkling through the dirt.
"An adventure?" Thistle turned pensive.
"Is it... weird?" murmured Full Lance almost to himself.
"Maybe?" Thistle looked visible puzzled.
"I might call myself... Enamored with cities? Buildings, architecture, places that are dense with... more places and things? Exploration, of this urban environment. Cities, palaces, old mines, castles... I really like it. Do you know what I mean?"
Thistle thought carefully before answering... "I do like adventure. But..." He paused. "What you just said made absolutely no sense."
Full Lance laughed.
"You're a weird pony, Full Lance." Thistle smiled.
"Well..." Full Lance trailed off, once more observing the scenery. "You're not wrong."
The duo continued on, listening to the street born murmur of the surrounding ponies. Occasionally a shout or cry would break the static noise, but in general, Castletown proved to be remarkably peaceful.
Suddenly, Full lance stopped.
"Uh oh," Thistle said.
"Thistle," Full Lance said. "There's an ally we could take," Full Lance pointed directly to his right at an ally steeply descending into the earth between two stone buildings.
"I don't think we'd fit," Thistle shifted nervously.
"It calls to me, Thistle."
"Don't. Don't let it call you."
"But, adventure, Thistle!"
"That," Thistle said pointing down the ally. "Is the end of an adventure."
Full Lance frowned, but he took another look at the ally... and he sighed. "There's claw marks on the sides of the walls... Creepy."
Thistle waited.
"Too creepy," Full Lance began trotting forward again.
Thistle breathed a sigh of relief as they rounded a corner, putting the ally well out of sight...
"It's getting louder." Thistle observed.
Looking ahead, Thistle spotted the end of the street, and the begining of a much larger space. The dull roar of commerce echo'd across the remaining buildings between Thistle and opening.
"We must be getting close to the market," Full Lance guessed.
The roar became sharper as Full lance and Thistle closed in on the end of the street. The town buildings to the left and right fell away, as Full Lance and Thistle entered a large plaza situated before the base of a looming green hill. Within the plaza many ponies of all walks of life milled about. All around the edges merchants and tradesponies had set up shaded tables and were hawking their goods away in exchange for silver groschen and sometimes other supplementary goods. In the middle of the square, a burbling fountain was situated, drawing a constant trickle of ponies carrying empty buckets, vases and barrels.
"Well," Full lance gestured expansively at the space. "See anyone likely to trade for our grain?"
Thistle surveyed the market, eyes dancing from stall to stall, pony to pony. Very few had an inventory as large as what Full Lance had in the cart. Of those few, even fewer were stocked with grains or other long lasting food stuffs. In fact, Thistle noticed an abundance of baked goods, pastries, a couple stalls selling meats, fruits, and vegetables, but a decided lack of staple cereals.
Eventually, Thistle's eyes settled on a stall positioned directly outside a five story stone tower. It was easily one of the tallest and least ornate buildings Thistle had seen in Castletown so far. As for the stall itself, aside from displays containing wheat, barley, oats and rye, along with a scale, it was mostly barren.
"There," pointed Thistle.
Full Lance squinted at the mostly empty stall. "...'The Storehouse Pantry,'" he read. "Are you sure?"
"Just watch," Thistle assured.
Indeed, as Full Lance watched a peasant exchanged a few coins with the stall keep, who in turn shouted back into tower. After a while A burly pony wearing an engraved stone square charm carried a couple drawstring bags of grain out to the scale. he put several weights on one side of the scale and the grain on the other. Once he'd balanced the scale by dumping the grain into a bucket, he gave the bags of cereal over to the waiting peasant.
"I'd bet they have enough grain in that storehouse," Thistle said.
"Yes," Full Lance replied. "This'll be easy!"
Thistle and Full Lance cut through the crowd of ponies in the market square, making their way over the the Storehouse Pantry. It was while they were waiting in line when Thistle suddenly remembered one of the reasons he despised going to Castletown with Minty.
"Uuugh," Thistle voiced.
"Hm?" Full Lance stirred from a blank stare.
"I hate waiting in lines," Thistle complained.
"Thistle, we're one pony away from the front of the line. I'm sure you'll make it," Full Lance patted Thistle on the shoulder reassuringly.
Thistle seemed not the respond, silently seething.
The pony in front of Full Lance stepped aside, allowing Full Lance to the stall. 
"Good afternoon," greeted the stall-keep.
"Thank you," returned Full Lance, looking past, into the storehouse.
"Uh," said the stall keep eyeing Full Lance's loaded cart. "What can I help you with, sir?"
Full Lance stared levelly at the stall-keep.  "I need to exchange all these grains," Full Lance gestured at his cart. "For..." he looked down at the displays on stall along with their respective exchange rates. "An equivalent weight of oats, please."
"Oh, uh," the stall keep rubbed her chin in thought for a moment. "I'm not sure we're allowed to do that sir, I'll need to talk with the storehouse manager. She turned around, breathing in deeply she called, "Hey, Bernard?!"
Full Lance gasped as his eyes slipped towards the storehouse manager, who was thankfully already engrossed consulting with another pony.
The stall-keep breathed in again, preparing to call ou--
"Actually!" Full Lance interrupted before she could say anything. "I just realized I have to go!"
"What?" She asked. "But the royal storehouses have most generous rates--"
"Nope!" Full Lance said as he quickly pulled away from the stall.
"I'm sure we could make a deal!" she said, but Full Lance had already threaded his way back into the crowd.
He cast one last glance at the storehouse and-- instantly paled as he made eye-contact with Bernard. Full Lance stumbled, the sheer impact of the moment almost halted him, but his momentum carried him forward and out of eyeshot.
"Phew," Full Lance sighed in relief. After a moment, "Thistle?"
No reply.