Baltimare was a city built around a river some centuries past. The first homes were built out of wood and a soft white stone quarried from nearby. As the years passed and the little port village became a city, the river was dammed, diverted, and eventually detoured underground to become the modern cities sewers. The little wood houses made way for elaborate and beautifully sculpted homes as its citizens prospered in the ports wealth. The white stone, still having massive appeal, was still used as the major cornerstone for any artistic or architectural endeavors.
However as you approach the docks, the city’s ivory shine is stripped away in favor of practicality and cost. Large open warehouses set up to ship and receive tons of goods as inns and taverns littered the streets. Several card parlors and even a brothel or three stood nearby, ready to strip the sailors of their freshly earned coin.
Within this part of the city, there is a particular tavern that sits the closest to the docks. It's reputation was as obvious as the name painted on the hanging sign: The Up-Chucking Sailor. The sign also featured a stallion dressed as an officer of the Royal Navy looking sickly with his muzzle in a bucket and his cheeks puffed out in a fashion that could only be accomplished by puking. It was the kind of place where everyone was welcome, as long as you didn't try to smash anything.
There was a group of Minotaurs sitting around a cluster of tables by the door, drinking from massive steins and telling jokes in their own harsh sounding language. A few Gryphons were set up as far from the the Minotaurs as possible, throwing hateful glares whenever the opposing group would laugh at another joke. A group of ponies wearing the uniform of the Royal Navy sat at another table, staring intently at an Anubian privateer smoking opium from a pipe and hoping beyond hope that the Jackal would say something incriminating. Several dock and warehouse workers clustered around tables to tell stories or idly chat about work. Even a small group of sailors sat huddling around a table to talk in hushed voices or sing sea shanties.
All in all, the tavern was loud and quite crowded. Had it not been for the alcohol, Cumulus was more than certain that he would’ve had a splitting headache. He sat on a stool at the bar, leaning heavily against it. He stared at his empty glass, swaying to a song that nearly everyone was singing to. Slowly, he looked down the bar to see an Earth Pony who was best described as massive.
"Stout!" The pale green stallion turned to face him. "Another!"
All he got was a worried look. "Look Cumulus, I don't hear anything from you in years and then you just crash through my door and start drinking all my best stuff." He then gave a small smile. "And besides, you never could hold your ale."
Cumulus sighed dejectedly. "I have had far better days, Stout. The university, in all its wisdom, decided to cut my funding. As you can see I am not taking it well. In truth, this is the fifth tavern I have visited today. I drink, get bored, and walk it off right into the next bar."
The burly stallion, recovering from his slacked jaw, replied quietly but passionately, "That's insane! Your research has done so much good already." Seeing Cumulus give an uncaring shrug, he sighed and refilled Cumulus’ glass. “Make it last."
As the pegasus began to sip from his glass, an especially inebriated sailor threw himself against the counter. He was laughing right into Cumulus's ear when he shouted, "Gimme one more, Stout!" Cumulus winced as his ears started to ring.
"Piss off!” Stout replied, half laughing his response, “You've had enough for one night, Crank."
The sailor slammed his hooves together in a pleading gesture. "Aw, have a heart! I still got half my pay and I know if I-"
"If you bring home too much money, your wife will buy a bunch of sweets and get fat." Stout replied with a deadpan expression, "And I wouldn't wanna make your wife fat, right? You’re getting way too predictable. Do you know that?"
Crank just guffawed. “It's true ya know? She's a baker’s daughter. Gotta watch her and them sweets."
Stout sighed in response. "Fine, if you’re so desperate to piss away your bits, I got just the thing to accommodate you." He turned away and gathering mixings.
Seeing what he was mixing, the sailor started to pale. "Well, don't do me any favours."
As Stout mixed the concoction, Cumulus watched him in fascination while the sailor was facing away to sing with his crew. As he watched, Cumulus noticed Stout pour a touch of blue liquid from a small vial. After stirring the mix vigorously, Stout poured it into a glass and slid it to the stallion.
"There ya are,” Stout replied chipperly, “The specialty of the house. I call it ‘The Up-Chuck Special!”
"You really need to think up a better name for that!" Cumulus answered with a chuckle.
"You can say that again," the sailor agreed, eyeing the turquoise liqueur with distaste. “And just how much do I owe you for this... stuff?"
"Twenty-five bits should cover it," Stout answered, tapping the counter gently with a hoof.
"Celestia's Beard!" The sailor swore. Any other objections were quieted by Stout's frown.
"Alright, alright!” the sailor conceded, reaching for his purse and slamming the money on the bar. “Here, ya miser!" Eyeing the beverage warily, he walked back to his table.
"So what was that you slipped in his drink?” Cumulus asked once the sailor was safely out of earshot. “Nothing perverted, I hope."
Stout just laughed. "Nope, he's too ugly for any of that!" Looking warily about, he leaned in and whispered, "It's a potion that sobers you up for about twelve hours." Cumulus cocked an eyebrow at this revelation. "It'll take about an hour to kick in and, once it does, he can't get drunk again."
Cumulus found himself chuckling at this. "You're incurable."
Stout shot him a grin. "The best part is that he'll probably spend another fifty bits trying to get his buzz back!" he whispered, giggling like a foal who thought he had come up with the best plan ever.
"Ever the money grubber,” Cumulus replied, his chuckle still going. “You haven't changed at all, have you?"
"Nope," he answered with a laugh.
"I still can't believe you actually named this place ‘The Up-Chucking Sailor!’"
"How bad would it be if everyone knew the stallion on the sign was you!?"
"I thought we agreed not to talk about that dreadful evening of my Sophomore Year," Cumulus said warningly, "Or should I tell your clientele about the time you got so hammered that you dressed up like a cheerleader? If I remember right you had half the hoofball team wanting to rut you while the other half wanting to watch."
Stout’s eyes went wide. "You remember that!?" he whispered harshly.
"I keep a picture of it in my wallet," Cumulus answered with a sly smile.
"Alright!” Stout said, throwing his hooves up in a submissive gesture, “Shutting up now." He went back to his business of serving drinks and preventing brawls.
- - - - -
As the sun began to set, Stout had just finished defusing another confrontation that had nearly dissolved into an all out brawl. Apparently the gryphons nearly started a fight that would have ended badly for everyone, namely due to the fact they were trying to pick a fight with the group of burly Minotaurs. Even though an unquiet calm had settled over the pub, the bird hybrids were still glaring daggers at the noisy bulls. ‘I'm gonna have to throw them out soon if they keep causing problems,' he thought. For the moment though, Stout happily resumed his business of serving drinks.
When he glanced at Cumulus, he noticed that the pegasus had gotten quiet again. While Cumulus was nursing his fifth rum, Stout noticed that his face was flush and that he was swirling his drink, watching the little whirlpool he created.
'He's drunk,’ Stout thought with a sad little smile. Stout couldn’t blame him though; Cumulus had a rough day and he had at least managed to numb the pain a little. It wasn’t a long term solution, but Cumulus would bounce back somehow. He always did.
Over the typhoon of general chatter of his customers, Stout recognized the faint tinkle of the bell over the door. When he glanced at the door and returned to his task, his mind did a double take. 'Wait was that a horse!' Sure enough, a blue roan was standing in the door and scanning the tavern. When his eyes met Stouts, he smiled and sauntered up to the bar. His black mane was slicked back and he wore a small pointed goatee.
Stout could only stare as the horselord stepped up to the bar and gave him a cocked smile. "I take it from your slack jaw stupor that you have never met one of my kind before now." Stout could only shake his head in reply. "My name is Jaffar. I have come to your-" he glanced around the tavern distastefully "-fine establishment because there is a pony we are looking for."
Stout saw two figures materialize as if from nowhere. The two Anubis were staring down at him. Both of them had short dark grey pelts and wore breeches and thin vests. However, what had Stout truly awestruck were their icy blue eyes. Most Jackals had soft brown eyes and it was considered rare for one to be born with green eyes.
Prying his eyes away from the piercing blue eyes that stared down at him, Stout swallowed and forced a smile to his lips. "So, you said you were looking for somepony?"
Jaffar smiled back. "Indeed I've been look-"
One of the Anubis interrupted, " Cap'in, ya promised."
The roan sighed and gave him an indigent look. "Gods, Denda! Is drinking the only thing you think about!?"
"O'course not, Cap'in!" the other Jackal replied, "He tinks bout da girlz afta he done drinkin!"
Both Jackals laughed at this. The horse was less than amused and displayed it by rolling his eyes. "Why do I put up with you two?"
The Anubis named Denda was more than happy to explain. "Cuz we da-"
“That question was meant to be rhetorical!” Jaffar growled, cutting off the answer.
Both Anubis gave Jaffar a look that Stout could not interpret. The horse sighed in defeat. "Fine! If it will keep you two quiet, then order something so we can move on!"
Both of them smiled and looked down at Stout. "Ya got any o' dat bublee stuff dat tickles ya nose wen ya drink it?"
If looks could kill, the horse shot them a glare that would have convicted him of murder. "You're ordering champagne!? Are you mad Ad'e!?"
The hulking Jackal shrugged. "Tain't my coin, Cap'in."
"Fine!" Jaffar hissed, turning to face Stout. "Two bottles of champagne, if you would."
Stout snorted in reply. "Does this look like the place you go to buy champagne?"
Jaffar's eye started to twitch a little. "Then just bring me two bottles of whatever is your best! These two overgrown pups seem determined to spend my coin!"
"Sticks n' stone Cap'in," Denda chided, “Sticks n’ stones.”
Stout smirked at their antics and reached under the bar. He placed two bottles of Horseshoe Bay spiced rum on the counter. The two snatched up the bottles, taking a few steps back in the process. "That'll be eighty-four bits," Stout said cheerfully.
The horse’s eye twitch again, but he pulled out his purse and counted out the necessary coins. Stout waited patiently and scooped the coins into his lock-box."Now then-" he looked back at the horse "-you were looking for someone?"
To his credit, Jaffar took a deep breath to steady himself. "Yes," he replied, reaching into his saddlebag to withdraw a book. He turned the book over to reveal a picture of Cumulus on the back cover. "I'm looking for Dr. Granted, the pony who wrote this book. I was informed that he had arrived in Baltimare today-" Jaffar paused for a moment to clear his throat. "-I was also informed that the stallion that owns this establishment knows Dr. Granted personally. It is imperative that I speak to him immediately."
Stout turned the book over to read the title Beasts of the Everfree. The cover featured an impressive photo of a pride of Manticores attacking a hydra. "Yup, that's Cumulus’ work alright. Why are you looking for him?"
Jaffar smiled, "So you do know him? Fantastic! Where is he?"
"Why are you looking for him?" Stout repeated his question.
The horse gave him a sour look. "As I said, it is imperative that I speak to him."
"That’s nice. Why are you looking for him?"
The horses sour expression twisted to one of disgust. "Oh, we're playing that game, are we?" He promptly tossed a bag of coins towards Stout, who couldn’t help but eye it like a starving vagabond might a sandwich. He immediately gave a sigh. "Are you gonna hurt him?"
To Jaffar’s further credit, he scowled at the question. "Certainly not! What do you take us for!? Debt collectors!?"
Stout gave the three of them a wary look before sighing. "Alright as long as he doesn't get hurt, I guess I'll tell you how to find him." He gestured Jaffar to lean in closer and he whispered conspiratorially, "Look to your left."
The horse pulled his head away and snapped his head to the left. Immediately, he saw Cumulus sitting at the bar wearing an amused expression on his face from the whole exchange. He immediately turned to the group, propped his fetlock on the counter, and gave a small wave. "Hello."
The horse turned and to reach for the bag of gold, but Stout had taken advantage of the situation and had just finished twisting the key in his lock-box. "You little cheat!" Jaffar hissed.
Cumulus snorted. "There is a reason nopony plays poker with him anymore."
Jaffar gave the both of them a harsh glare when the Jackals started laughing. "Oy, dey got ya gud, Cap'in."
"Just whose side are you on!?" he asked with a sneer.
"Da rums side, Cap'in," laughed Ad'e.
"Next time, don jus chuck coin at someone and na espect ta get burned," Denda supplied.
The Roan gave a heavy sigh and glared at the barkeep one last time. "Fine. Lesson learned." He turned to look at Cumulus. "Dr. Granted, it is so good to meet you face to face." He glanced around the tavern suspiciously. "Might we speak someplace a little more private?" he asked, gesturing to a small table in the corner. Cumulus nodded and followed the trio to the table.
- - - - -
"So, what's so damned important you thought you had to bribe my friend to find me?" Cumulus asked once they were seated.
The horse coughed into his hoof. "Well yes, I may have been a touch overzealous on that. First, allow me to say thank you."
"For what?" Cumulus asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Dat book o' yurs saved our lives." Denda replied, suddenly very serious.
Cumulus looked at the Jackal with an astonished expression. "How did it do that?"
Jaffar cleared his throat. "Well, that plays into what is so important. You see, I am an entrepreneur of sorts. I retrieve valuable items lost at sea or stake out new territories for those who seek to expand their properties." Cumulus nodded, signifying that he was following so far. "Well some years ago, my employer unearthed a journal belonging to a certain pirate whose name escapes me at the moment. Something Sparrow, I think it was. Most of the early entries ranted about a mare he called Swan burning his rum. Most of it was nonsense, but later he talked about a distant land in the far south-" he leaned in closer to fix the pegasus with a stern expression "-Someplace beyond the Southern Barrier."
"He found a way to pass the Equatorial Current!?" Cumulus asked shocked.
A clawed hand clamped his mouth shut as his three companions scanned the room to see if anyone had heard his outburst. “Keep ya voice down, Doc!" Denda hissed through clenched teeth, "Dis is sum real hush-hush type stuff!"
He managed to push Denda's claw away from his face. "Sorry, but to think that anyone could make their way past those storms is amazing."
"Aye," Ad'e chimed in, "Dere was many a ship dat ven'ured too close ta dose demon currents and was dragged down ta da locker fer it."
"For the past thousand years," continued Jaffar, "the Barrier was believed impassable, but some two hundred years ago, this Sparrow character managed to do it. He recorded how he did it in his journal."
Cumulus learned in close to the horse. "How did he manage it?"
Jaffar smiled. "It seems that once every three years, there's a break in the storm’s severity. The journal says that the warm water alters the currents. For a span of about five days, those massive storms lose most of their momentum and become minor squalls. Easy enough to pass, if you have a skilled helmsman."
Cumulus blinked. "Wait. That still doesn’t tell me how my book saved your lives."
"I was coming to that," Jaffar explained, "That break in the storms is fast approaching again. Furthermore, this isn’t our first time sailing south." Cumulus gaped at them, but didn't interrupt. "On our last voyage to the south, we spent one night ashore. My crew of nearly thirty, consisting of the finest Horses, Anubis and, Minotaurs it’s ever been my honor of sailing with-" his expression shifted to one of sadness "-Now only myself, Denda, and Adewale are left."
"What!?” Cumulus gasped quietly, “How is that possible?"
"Ta put it right, there were eiht of us tha got back ta da ship," Denda said with a heavy sigh. "Me and da Cap'in, we was da only two who didn't get hurt. Ad'e was da only one ta survive his wounds."
As if anticipating his query, the other Jackal peeled off his vest and turned his back to Cumulus. A long white scar ran from the top of his right shoulder to his left hip in a single slash along his torso. As Cumulus gaped at it, he realized that he had never seen such a wound before.
"That wasn’t made by any sort of animal I'm familiar with,” Cumulus admitted, “What manner of beast did you encounter?"
"T'weren't no single beastie, Doc,” the ice eyed Anubis replied, buttoning up his vest, “T’wer more of dem den could be counted. We tried ta fight um off, but fer every one we put down, dere was another t'ree of dem. The Cap'in was screamin ta git back to da ship, but dey was jus too fast and too many of dem. Got me dis nasty lil’ souvenir ta remember um by."
"We managed to limp back to the nearest port in Savannah," Jaffar said, his sad tone still present, "Had it not been for your book, I doubt we would have survived the night in that gods-forsaken land. Instead, I had the sense to realize we had no chance of overcoming. They seemed to move as a whole, coordinated like an army."
Cumulus was silent for a long time, his mind reeling from the tale he'd been told. The conviction in their voices and the scar on Adewale's back were enough to convince him that at least some part of their yarn was true.
"It’s a shame that you couldn’t bring back one of those creatures bodies for study,” he said, his voice awed, “I understand that science was the last thing on your mind, but to get a even a decent look at these creatures would’ve been groundbreaking."
He saw both Jaffar and Ad'e look towards Denda. The other Anubis glared at them. "No!"
Jaffar gave him a stern look. "Dende, I know you are very possessive of it, but it could be of vital importance now.” When the Anubis made no attempts to budge, Jaffar began to glare at him. “I’ll make it an order then. Show him!"
Slowly, the Jackal reached into a leather pack and withdraw a small, leather bound book. Cumulus watched as Dende opened it to one particular page before passing it to him. As he examined the page he could only gasp at what he saw: a detailed charcoal sketch of… something. A bizarre feathered creature, with a narrow scaled face and massive lethal looking claws. It looked as though it was about jump off the page at him.
"Never in my life have I seen anything remotely like this creature. And you say they were organized?"
"Aye, Doc," Denda confirmed, reaching out to reclaim his sketch book. Cumulus eyed the finely wrought detail of the image, wishing he had time to take a photograph or attempt to copy the image so he might examine it more closely. Hesitantly, he passed the book back to its owner. "Tank ya, Doc. I can see ya want ta take a closer look at it, but dis is personal."
Jaffar cleared his throat and gave Cumulus a serious look. "Dr. Granted, a small amount of your expertise on how animals like these behave was enough to save a few lives-" he paused ad let his eyes fall to the table "-although not many, it is something." He gave Cumulus an almost pleading look. "I am going back with a new crew and I am scared for the safety of my crew. Is there any way that I can convince you to accompany us south? I know I am essentially asking you to abandon your research here in Equestria, bu-"
"The university cut my funding today," Cumulus admitted. Much to his own surprise, he was able to deliver that awful truth as though it bore no real consequences. Looking down at his empty glass, he gave a mental snort. 'Oh, no wonder saying that didn’t hurt. I’m drunk.'
Looking back at the dumbstruck horse, he gave a lopsided smile. "Captain Jaffar, the truth of the matter is that you may as well have given me a golden ticket."
After a moment or two of silence from the table, Jaffar asked in a hopeful tone, "Does that mean that you will accompany us south?"
"Between the scar, the sketch, and the promise of an unheard of species of pack animals,” Cumulus said, his tone and smile an almost perfect imitation of a foal on Hearth’s Warming morning, “I cannot think of a single reason not to go." Seeing the trio beaming at him, he gave a wobbly salute. "When do we leave, Mon Capitaine?"
- - - - -
The night was waning fast when a horse and a pair of blue eyed Anubians meandered towards the docks. Ad'e was the one to break the silence that hung over them. "Gotta say Cap'in, ya nearly had me fooled wit dat lil sob story o' yurs." He gave a harsh laugh. "‘Scared fer me crew!?’ Nevah knew ya was a actor, boss."
Jaffar gave a sly grin. "To be quite honest, I was not entirely certain he would believe me. I could kick myself for not being able to cry on cue."
"An’ wat was dat tripe bout a t'ree year cycle fer gettin tru’ da barrier?" Denda asked, a queer smirk playing about his muzzle. "Ah can't believe he bought dat! D’ya tink we can trus 'im, Cap'in?"
"I would not worry too much, Denda,” Jaffar said knowingly, “Above all else, he is a scientist. I doubt it shall be too difficult to convince him to look the other way for the sake of his research. All we need do is keep up this charade until we find our prize. Once we accomplish that, his fate is in his own hooves."
