//------------------------------// // 21. A Fool and His Gold // Story: The Trials of Shmarity: an Ogres and Oubliettes Story // by TheMessenger //------------------------------// 21. A Fool and His Gold Rarity followed the griffon closely as she entered the crowded square once more. Gustford, while not having an entirely formidable presence in comparison to some of the larger creatures around, did alleviate some of the stress that came with fighting the crowd by shoving open a path through which Rarity could readily follow as he led her down a new street that branched out of the center plaza. The scent of the sea grew stronger as they slowly made their way to the harbor Rarity had spotted earlier, and as they continue along this path, she noted that the horde of bodies in front and around her gradually became less and less dense. There was also a noticeable shift in the population’s diversity. While the square now behind them was packed with a healthy mix of ponies from all three tribes, here on this road leading to and from the sea Rarity could only find a small number pegasi and earth ponies in dirty sailor caps and red scarves. She would have counted herself as the sole unicorn here had it not been for her still missing horn. Griffons like Gustford and hippogriffs meanwhile appeared to make up the majority along with several birdfolk, many of whom were dress lightly and armed with only a dagger or maybe a short sword strapped to their belt. Very, very few had on any heavier armor, and of those that did, most appeared to be members of the city guard on patrol. Shadows fell over Rarity as winged creatures flew overhead. Despite the reduction in traffic density, the area was as noisy as ever, with the skies above rife with the screeching of gulls. As they got closer to the ocean, the calls and invitations of stall owners, several of which were of an amphibious frog-like race that Rarity did not recognize, were added to the din. The smell of rotting fish coming from the stalls assaulted Rarity’s nostrils, and her stomach churned at the rows of fish heads watching her pass by with their dull, dead eyes. The walls of the nearby houses were bleached white and grainy, and Rarity couldn’t help but notice that those with fur had dried and parched sections in their coats. Mostly ignored beggars lines the street sitting in trash and dirty puddles with their forelegs out and open to receive alms. The paved road eventually gave way to wooden planks as the street opened up to a large pier. Some several ships floated about at the docks while their crews worked on them loudly, shouting and laughing and singing in harsh and out of tune voices as they scrapped off barnacles from the hulls or mopped the decks or made repairs. Foamy waves roared and crashed against the coast and the sides of the ships bobbling about. There were some barely any bigger than a standard luxury yacht while others were the size of large buildings. The biggest ship here was a colossal that sat at the very end of the harbor and could very possibly fit the entire population of Ponyville twice over. Its masts were nearly tall enough to reach the clouds, and the wide sails attached to them could have been used for circus tents. Painted on the sails was the image of a raised hoof wreathed in flames, and carved into the ship’s bow was the image of a fully matured dragon. Gustford led her past a pair of griffons drying out a wide net and to one of the more modestly sized vessels. As they approached, Rarity heard a splash. Looking over the side and into the sea below, she found a couple of hippogriffs in their aquatic form cleaning grime and seaweed off a ship’s hull with a brush. “Oi, Brine Drinker!” Gustford called out, startling Rarity and causing her to nearly jump. The griffon stood right before the ship with his claws cupped over his beak. “Brine Drinker, you here?” A trio of heads popped up, a griffon’s, a pony’s, and a hippogriff’s. “Yo! Who wants t’ know?” growled the pony, frowning as he leaned over the side of ship. “Some creature that that captain of yours owes a huge favor to,” Gustford answered as he folded his forelegs over his chest. “Ask him about the debacle at Port Meowza-rows.” He placed a hard emphasis on the last syllable. “He’ll know what I’m talking about.” The three turned to one another and begun to whisper. “Alright, sit tight,” the pony instructed after they finished deliberating, and he walked off and disappear from sight. “Who is this Brine Drinker,” Rarity inquired as they waited. “Depends on the day of the week,” Gustford said with a smirk. “He’s a freelancer and will take just about any seafaring job. Ferrying passengers, carrying trade goods, smuggling contraband, scavenging wreckages, I’d bet he’d have tried making it as a pirate if he wasn’t such a coward. Has a bit of an odd sense of humor, but as far as dock regulars go, he’s an alright fellow.” “Sounds like quite the interesting individual,” Rarity said. “And you met him at this, Port Meowzarows?” “Meowzaru, actually. An old city on the coast of one of those jungle islands. He just kept pronouncing the place wrong, and it didn’t matter how many times he was corrected,” Gustford explained. “I was hired by him as a bodyguard for a, ah.” He winced and rubbed the side of his neck, his shame obvious. “An extralegal transaction. Weapons mostly, rare ones, magical, along with some experimental potions. One of my first jobs as an adventurer actually. It was just supposed to be a quick and easy drop off, but Brine got spooked and decided he needed the extra muscle.” He shook his head. “Turns out he was right. I barely got us all out of there with our lives, and since his clients figured he broke contract for not taking their dagger in the back, we weren’t paid. The moron didn’t even get anything upfront, so I only got half of what was agreed upon.” “And you think he can help us?” “Well, he owns a ship, and the quickest way to the south is by sea,” Gustford said. He continued to stare up at the boat’s edge. “We just have to convince him to take you there.” A few additional minutes passed before the pony returned. “Yo! Ya think it can wait?” “I haven’t the patience nor the time!” Gustford shouted back. “Is your captain here or not?” The stallion looked to his colleagues before turning to Gustford and Rarity. “Make some room,” he ordered, and once they had, the three pushed a large plank over the ship’s side until one end of it landed on the docks with a thump, creating a bridge that connected the ship to the pier. “Right then, come ‘n up,” he barked. “The cap’ll see ya. But, uh, a little heads up,” the sailor added to Gustford as he climbed the plank, “he’s not ‘actly in the best of states, ya hear?” “I’ll keep that in mind,” the griffon said, though his tone was less than assuring. He stepped onto the ship’s deck and extended a claw to help Rarity down. It took Rarity a little time to find her balance. “Is that wise?” Rarity asked quietly once she found her footing and could stand on her own. “Perhaps we should come back at a better time. I wouldn’t want to antagonize this potential benefactor. “Don’t worry about it,” Gustford told her, waving away her concern. “Take it from me, if you want to get any business done around here in the docks or back in the lower city, it has to be on your terms. This isn’t like court life or the palace. Politeness won’t get you anywhere, and acting considerate just makes you look like an easy target.” “If you say so,” Rarity conceded. The stallion motioned them forward and led them to the cabin behind the ship’s main mast. He knocked twice, then he opened the door and let Rarity and Gustford inside. Rarity’s eyes needed a few moments before they adjusted to the darkness when the door closed behind her. The only light was what managed to get through the lines between the boards and the pieces of dark cloth covering a small, round window, which meant that much of the room was shrouded in shadows. All she could really make out was a desk at the other end and a figure sitting behind it. Gustford squinted at the figure. “Brine Drinker, is that you?” “Yeah, of course it’s me,” they grumbled, their voice low and hoarse. “Who else’d be the captain of this blasted boat?” They leaned over and hissed as they entered into the light and revealed themselves to be a hippogriff male, approaching middle age like Gustford. His entire body seemed to sag from evident exhaustion, and there was a sickly shade of green that was different from the lime color of his feathers. He held a claw to his forehead and groaned as the three sided hat he was wearing slipped over his eyes. Gustford bent down to pick up a brown bottle from the pile and shook it. “Hard times?” “Hardly,” the hippogriff snorted. “I was celebrating. Agreed to a job last night that’ll settle all my debts. By next month, you’ll be looking at a free bird. Or, fish. Or whatever I’m fancying on being that day.” “Then it looks like I caught you at a good time,” Gustford said. “I’m calling—“ “Yeah, yeah, calling in that favor I owe you. I already heard from my guy,” the hippogriff interrupted. “You’ve been holding on that one for a good while now, you know. I figured you’d just forgot about it.” He stretched and leaned back in his chair. “So what can Captain Brine Drinker and the good old Merry Landing do for you? Looking for something or some place more exotic?” “Not me. Her.” Gustford pointed a talon over his shoulder at Rarity. “She needs passage to the southern continent, the closer to the magic schools the better. Is that something you can do?” Brine Drinker broke into a loud and boisterous laughter. His entire body shook as he threw himself onto his desk and pounded away. “Oh, oh, this is—“ he managed to say before being consumed by another fit of giggles that slowly turned to coughs as he started to choke. Rarity and Gustford turn to each other and shared a look of concern and awkward confusion. “I suppose that would be a no,” Rarity said with a sigh. “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong,” the hippogriff wheezed as he struggled to sit up. “Sorry about that, it’s just, hoo.” He steadied himself with a deep breath. “You good?” Gustford asked, his forelegs crossed in front of his chest. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, I’m good,” Brine assured. He cleared his throat and smirked. “Alright, so that job I mentioned, the one that’s going to get all my loans sharks off my back? Guess where it’s taking me.” “Would it happen to be the southern lands?” Rarity ventured. Brine Drink clapped his claws together, and his grin widened. “I know, right? It’s this big bunch of bookworms from Candelkeep that need me to take them and their collection over to the southern schools for safekeeping. I can’t believe it myself. I mean, what are the odds? Funny coincidence, that.” “Yes, hilarious,” Gustford said without an ounce of mirth in his voice. “So you’re already heading south. Good. You think you’ve got room for her to tag along.” “Of course, of course. Not a problem, I can, well, actually.” Brine‘s face screwed into a wince. “Actually, now that I think about it, it’s not going to be that easy.” Gustford frowned. “Brine, you owe me.” “I know, I know.” The hippogriff held up both his claws. “Look, if it was anywhere else, I’d take you, your friend, and both of your extended families, no problem, no problem at all. But the southern seas, do you know what’s going on down there?” “Can’t say I do,” Gustford answered. “Storms, unnatural ones, and sea monsters bigger and more aggressive than anything anyone’s seen before!” Brine Drinker extended his front limbs out as far as he could stretch them. He then leaned over and motioned Gustford and Rarity to him. “They say it’s the Squidzard’s doing,” he said in the quietest of whispers, looking to each side warily, “that he’s trying to keep everyone in Spiketopia from leaving. I hear the same things are happening if you head too far west or north. Anyone that’s tried...” He drew a line across his neck. “No survivors.” Rarity leaned over the table as well. “Then who’s this they and how do they know of all this?” she asked with a small smile. Next to her, Gustford stifled a chuckle as the ship captain started to stutter. “Well, okay, okay. Maybe there were some who made it back. Look, I’m just trying to get you to understand what kind of situation’s going on over there. I can’t afford to make a three week voyage into those dangerous waters for free, it’s not worth the risk.” “But you’re already planning on going through those waters already,” Rarity argued. “Surely my addition wouldn’t be that much of a burden.” “Yes, yes, but I’m being paid to do that and being paid well. If word got out that I was giving out free rides through the south seas, I’d be known as the guy who’s willing to brave the dangers out there, and then every creature and their roommate’ll be coming to me for that sort of thing, and that’s really not the kind of business I can afford to be in,” Brine Drinker explained. “I don’t want anyone to get the idea that I do this regularly, it’s hard enough for me to keep a full crew. I know, I know,” he said, turning to Gustford, “I owe you, but the best I can do for you is a discount.” “Then, you can take me there,” Rarity slowly and carefully said as she regarded the ship captain with a questioning look. “Oh yeah, yeah,” he announced. “I can do that, sure. Just, you know, not for free is all, yeah?” Gustford groaned. “You could’ve made that clearer. I was about to try and shake you down.” Brine chuckled, but it was a weak chuckle that Rarity noticed, and he was eyeing the massive blade on Gustford’s back nervously. “Ha, y-yeah.” “So, when do you leave and how much are we looking at?” Gustford inquired. “Ha, right, ahem. The plan is to set off at the end of the week, early morn. Weather permitting, of course,” answered the hippogriff. “As for how much, um, just for her or are you coming along too? Because, um, I don’t know if I’ve got the room for the both of you. I mean, I can try, but—“ “Let’s start how much for just her.” “Right, right. Well, considering how much we’re charging those Candelkeep guys, let’s see.” Brine hummed as he traced a claw around his beak. “Three hundred gold pieces.” “You want how much?” Gustford exclaimed. Rarity, hearing the disbelief and ire in his words, turned to the griffon and saw that his eyes had narrowed. “Whoa, hey, hey!” Captain Brine Drinker threw up his claws and pulled back from the desk. “Look, that’s a perfectly reasonable price considering what you’re asking. It’s a long trip, and I’ve got make room for her, make sure she’s fed, keep her safe. Er, you do want her safe, yeah? I’ll take that as a yeah,” he said quickly when Gustford responded with a glare. “Look, with all the extra provisions I’ll need to get, I need you to settle some of the cost.” The hippogriff looked to Rarity, his expression pleading. “You understand, yeah? Come on, look at it from where I’m standing.” Gustford removed his broadsword, causing Brine to flinch. Rarity started to speak out until she saw that the griffon was only leaning it against the edge of the table. “Brine, I saved your life back then,” he said in a low voice. “I-I know, I know. And I appreciate it, really.” Brine Drinker gulped. “Alright, I’ll bring it to two hundred, but that’s the lowest I can go. Honest. “ Gustford continued to stare at the shaking hippogriff for a while longer before sighing and straightening up. “If that’s really the best you can do—“ “It is. Best I can do. Really. Honest.” “—then we’ll have to take it,” the griffon finished, frowning. “You said you’re planning on leaving at the end of the week. Anyway you can push that date back?” “Can’t,” Brine Drink said. He removed his hat and wiped his brow. “Sorry, but my employers want to leave as soon as possible. The only way we can delay is if the weather’s not working for us. But, uh, look. This job, there’s a good bit of cargo that they’re trying to move, and it’s going to need a couple of trips.” While he explained, Brine moved his claws back and forth as if to demonstrate. “If you can’t make it when we leave at the week’s end, I’ll be back in, what, six weeks? Yeah, a round trip’s six weeks. That ought to give you enough time to get ready.” “Six weeks?” Rarity repeated. The room around her begun to spin as she struggled with such a stretch of time. She had already spent so much time away from her home, her friends, and her family, longer than she had ever had before, and as much as she trusted Sassy Saddles and the rest of her managers, she shuddered to think of the state her business was in currently. The thought of extending her stay in these foreign lands by an entire month and more caused her chest to tighten, and she found her breathing constricted. She could hear Gustford and Brine continuing to converse, but their words were muffled as if the two were underwater or in a separate, distant room. Something touched Rarity’s shoulder, which shook her out of her daze. She was back on the noisy pier, with Brine Drinker’s boat behind her. Gustford’s claw retreated, his expression one of worry as his beak opened and closed. “I’m, terribly sorry. Were you saying something to me?” Rarity asked. She tried to force an encouraging smile, but from how the former knight’s face was painted with concern, it was apparent that she was failing. “I asked if you were doing alright,” the griffon said. “You got awfully quiet back there. Seemed distracted, if you don’t mind me saying. I think even Brine was noticing, so I cut things short.” “Oh. Er, it’s nothing,” Rarity assured hurriedly. “Just, tired. I’ve had quite an exhausting day today. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. Should we go back and finish?” “Nah, it’s not a problem. Don’t worry about it, Princess,” Gustford said. He gestured to the road and started forward, walking at a leisurely pace that Rarity could easily keep up with. “We were just wrapping things up anyways, nothing important.” The sounds of the busy harbor slowly quieted as they got further and further away. “So, now happens now?” Rarity asked after a few moments had passed. “First thing’s first, we need to get you settled in,” Gustford replied. “We’ll see to getting you some lodging. I’ll try for something private, but with how crowded Baldursgait is these days, that’s going to be difficult. It’d probably be safer just to keep you in my room, but that’s, ah, not exactly, um, proper.” He brought a closed claw to his beak and coughed as he turned away. “In any case, you shouldn’t expect much, nothing like the palace or anything that you’re used to.” “That’s quite alright,” said Rarity. “I spent last night on a pile of straw. I’d consider anywhere with a mattress an improvement.” “Oh. Um, wow. That’s, I’m sorry to hear that,” the griffon said, his words stumbling as his features turned and twisted with discomfort. Again, his claw rose to his mouth, and he cleared his throat. “So anyways. You try and get some rest. We’ll focus on finding some work tomorrow.” Gustford ran his talons through the feathers of his neck and let out a forceful breath. “Oh boy. Two hundred in gold,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “I’ll take another look around later to see if there’s anyone else willing to go south, but if Brine was telling the truth, I doubt we’ll find a deal better than what he’s offering. Still, we’ve got some time. If we find something steady pretty early on and save everything, we should have just enough by the time Brine returns and makes his second round.” “You mean, when he returns in six weeks.” “Yes.” Gustford stopped and turned around. “I, uh, are you sure you’re doing alright? I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but you sound a tad, well, off.” “It’s just...” Rarity sighed. “Six weeks is a rather long time, and I was hoping for a more, expedient option. I don’t wish to delay this any longer than I must. The sea can’t be the only way of reaching those magic schools in the south, can it?” “Well, no,” Gustford said, though he spoke with uncertainty. “I suppose you could always go by land, but there’s a line of mountains you’d have to get over, and then you’d have to cross a series of deserts. By the time you’d have reached your destination, Brine would already be halfway into his second trip there, and that’s not even considering how much more expensive it’d be to make all those preparations.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t recommend it.” “What about flying there?” Gustford’s initial response to Rarity’s suggestion was a look of puzzlement. “You, um, don’t have wings.” “Well no, but I was referring by hot air balloon or chartering an air ship or, ah.” The expression of the griffon before Rarity was turning from slight confusion to bewildered concern and growing apprehension. “Never mind,” she said instead and started moving again, which prompted Gustford into continuing on as well. “Then, would there be any way to gather enough funds before Captain Drinker leaves. Perhaps I could use my position to get an audience with the city’s high society and convince them to give me a loan.” “Ah, ha, no no, no.” A weak, nervous laugh left Gustford’s beak. “You do not want to owe any creature from the upper city anything, and you, you specifically, don’t want any of them to know your real identity.” He looked around and lowered his volume to a whisper. “A good part of the nobility in Baldursgait are from families your great grandfather kicked out of the royal court for one reason or another.” “But that was generations ago,” Rarity protested. “Prin— I mean, I wasn’t even alive at that time. Surely enough time has passed to clear out any bad blood between us.” Gustford made a face. “Well, when we were gathering strength against the Squid Wizard’s forces, Baldursgait was the only city we never heard back from, so someone close to the top obviously still holds a grudge.” “But I heard there was a duke here who was a retired member of the army. Duke Ravenclaw or something similar,” Rarity said, recalling the street cat’s brief mention. “Surely he, wouldn’t he willing to aid us?” “You mean Ravenguard? He’s just a mercenary who helped us in a previous campaign. That’s not to downplay his contributions,” Gustford added swiftly. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a formidable fighter and an impressive strategist, and he’s certainly earned his title, but you shouldn’t expect anything out of him without being able to guarantee something in return first. Even more so than the rest of this place, if you can believe it.” There was a pause before he continued. “Listen, Princess, I understand your impatience, your frustration, I really do, but becoming indebted to Baldursgait’s upper class isn’t worth it. Just, take it a day at a time, and before you know it, six weeks will have flown by. I know it’s not the capital, but Baldursgait has its, well, I maybe wouldn’t say charms but it’s not that, I mean, not all the time.” Gustford frowned. “Well, you’ll get used to it.” “If you say so,” Rarity said, her words heavy with reluctant acceptance. Though a large part of her wanted to argue, to protest against the notion that there was a cost too high for saving her friends, she struggled to spin her feelings into reasonable thoughts and statements, and her brainstorm of alternative avenues and options was clearing rapidly, leaving her mind as blank as a cloudless sky. It was apparent that Gustford’s sincerity and worry were genuine, and Rarity, recognizing that the griffon was more familiar with the area and its dealings and had nothing but the best intentions toward her, or at least toward Princess Shmarity, decided to trust his judgement on the matter. They had now reached the busy square, but instead of returning to the hall the two had initially met, Rarity found herself following Gustford past the billboards that were still attracting a sizable crowd and around the ring of merchant stalls. For a short second, her gaze lingered on the sheets the boards advertised, their contents still unreadable due to the bodies in the way, before she hurried after her griffon guide to one of the buildings surround the plaza. A faded sign with the painted image of a bed was hung over the doorway they entered through. They were greeted by an empty receptionist counter that stood between them and a wall made up of rows of small box compartments, many of which were stuffed with envelopes and packages. Gustford stepped up to the front of the counter and looked around. “Huh. Must be taking a long lunch or something. I’ll have to track him down later. In the mean time, I suppose you can rest in my room.” He continued to the side of the room where a rusty gate stood barring access to a stairway leading upward. Rarity watched him dig through the pockets of his shirt and remove an odd, double ended brass key, as if someone had attached two keys together at their heads. Gustford unlocked the gate, and with Rarity following closely behind him, he made his way up the stairs and into a hall with doors on one side and windows that let in sunlight and provided a pointless view of the building next to them on the other. Each door had a single digit number carved into it, and as they continued down the hall, the numbers increased. They came to a stop near the middle of the hall at the fourth door, and Gustford took out his key. He stuck the other end into the slot beneath the handle and turned it until there was a soft click. The door creaked open to reveal a small room furnished by only a small bed shoved to the side. “Pardon the mess,” Gustford said as he scooped up articles of clothing that were scattered all over the floor and kicked bits of scrap paper and other assorted trash out of the way, some going right into the space between the bed and the floor. He gave Rarity a rueful grin. “It’s not much but at least the lock works.” Rarity stepped inside. The room was cramped, with barely enough space to accommodate her in along with Gustford, the bed, and all of the junk on the floor, and it only got worse once Gustford had shut the door behind her. “It’s certainly, cozy,” she said, forcing a smile. “Yeah. I try not to spend too much time in here.” Gustford picked up a blanket off the floor and shook it out. “I, uh, had the sheets cleaned a couple of weeks ago, so it should be fine,” he said as he stretch it out and over the bed’s surface. He gestured Rarity to the mattress, and she took a seat. To her welcomed surprise, it was much softer than it had appeared. “You mentioned you were tired, right? Try to get some rest. I’ll look into getting you your own place.” Gustford started to the door. “Do you need me to get you anything else while I’m out? Food, maybe some extra clothes?” “Actually, there is this.” Rarity went through her saddlebags and removed something wrapped in linen. “Do you think you could find some creature who could repair this?” She placed the package into Gustford’s outstretched claw. “Careful,” she warned as he undid the wrapping. “The pieces are still sharp.” The remains of Huntress’s dagger now sat in Gustford’s claw. Rarity had been unwilling to abandon it in the alley where it had been broken. Leaving such dangerous litter around where it could potentially do serious harm did not sit well with her, but there was also an additional, less reasonable reluctance stemming from an odd attachment Rarity felt toward the weapon. Perhaps it was because she still considered the blade borrowed and that maybe one day she would be able to return it to its rightful owner, or maybe it was due to all the dagger had gotten her through. It had saved her from that foppish bandit in woods, and though Rarity could not say the memory of sticking the dagger into the murderous dandy’s eye was a fond one, it left her feeling that this inanimate piece of sharpened metal deserved far better than being left to rust away in the dust and refuse. It was like having to throw out or give away an old and well worn dress after it no longer fit. Rarity knew it was silly, becoming attached to something so material, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she was bidding a good friend farewell. Gustford examined the broken parts with a frown. “I don’t think fixing this is possible. Even if I manage to find a blacksmith who could put this back together, the blade would be too brittle to use properly. It wouldn’t be worth the fee. The iron’s still in pretty good condition though, all things considered, so you’d could probably get a fair amount of copper if you sold it for scrap metal, maybe even a couple of silvers. Do you want me to take care of that for you while I’m out?” Rarity hesitated, but logic won out in the end. A dagger that would only break could end up doing more harm to its user than a theoretical enemy, and she very well needed the money. “Very well,” she eventually said, turning her head so that she could no longer see the dagger pieces in Gustford’s claws. Gustford rewrapped the parts. “Do you have another weapon? I can lend you another dagger or I can go buy you one.” “That’s quite alright,” Rarity said. “I still have this one.” She pulled Elder Woods’s blade of obsidian out from her cloak to show Gustford who regard the strange dagger with a curious look. The griffon held out a claw, and Rarity allowed him to take it and get a closer look. He studied the runes in the stone blade for a while before returning it to Rarity and walking over to and digging through a pile of shirts and cloaks. “Here,” he said to Rarity when he had returned, presenting her with a new dagger complete with its own sheath. A red ribbon was weaved tightly over the dagger’s handle, and she noted that the ends of the cross-guard had been sharpened at the tips. “I’d feel better knowing you were armed with something a little more, conventional. We’ll get you your own later, but you can borrow that one for the time being.” “Thank you.” Rarity accepted the weapon and pocketed it with the obsidian one. “Well, I suppose that will be all. Unless, hm.” “What is it?” Gustford asked, gesturing for her to continue. “Is it pressing?” “Ah, well, I’d certainly say so.” Rarity rolled her shoulders and rubbed at the spot they connected to her neck. “You wouldn’t happen to know of any place in town that gives massages, would you? Or maybe some place where I could get a nice warm bath?” She had expected Gustford to give her a sideways look and a simple negative answer softened by an apology and maybe a half-hearted promise that he would keep an eye out for such an establishment though she really shouldn’t keep her hopes up for much success. She had not expected him to nod.