//------------------------------//
// Chapter 3: The Tavern 
// Story: Rarity and Spike vs Fantasy RPG Tropes: The Sabre of Omens 
// by SS Nomad 
//------------------------------//

	The hills rolled by as the train barreled its way south, nothing in sight but dry grass and a few, sparse trees.  Rarity laid on her bunk in the empty carriage, staring out the window as the scenery blew by, her hopes that Surlin could be a glamorous destination already fully melted out of her.  The sound of the door between the carriages opening heralded Spike’s return.
“Yeah, we’re the last two.  I checked all the cars, just staff,” he reported, sitting back down on the edge of the bed across from her.
With a sigh, Rarity properly admitted to herself that they were going to the middle of nowhere.  She glared over at the sabre, resting on her bed beside her, angry that the mystery of it dragged her off like this.  She could be in a spa right now, yet here she was, stuck on a sleeper train.  She laid the side of her head against the pane of the window in frustrated acceptance of the situation, staring out at the scenery ahead of the train.
On the other side of the aisle, Spike was still excited, “Man, this is my first real adventure, can you believe it?  Who knows what we’ll find when we get there, right?”
“Probably a small town that only exists because the train line has to end somewhere,” Rarity mumbled back pessimistically.
Apparently, Spike didn’t hear her, as he just continued, “You know, the traveling is the part I’m not really used to.  Usually the story just skips over all the boring parts and you just get right into the action.”
For just a moment, Rarity wished she could live in Spike’s little fantasy land, but her thoughts were interrupted as she spotted something out the window.  Up ahead of the train, like a low cliff, rose row after row of wheat.   From the head of the train came the clattering of a change in the tracks, and within seconds they were on a stone bridge across a swollen, murky brown river that marked the edge of the farmed land.
Excited to finally see signs of civilization, Rarity turned to Spike with a smile, “I think we’re close, now.  Oh, it’ll be so nice to finally get off this train and stretch.”
Spike, staring down into the waters from his own window, remarked, “Yeah, I kinda remember a major river on the map.  Didn’t expect it to be quite this big, though.”
Rarity looked down at the river more carefully, noticing the edges of the water lapping up onto the flat plain of the farmland, “That’s… not right, is it?”
Almost instantly, Spike’s face turned to confidence, “Something’s wrong upstream.  That’s where we start.”
Rarity rolled her eyes, watching the train roll off the bridge and the window’s view become entirely replaced by stalks of wheat, “I’m sure it’s nothing.  Even if it is something, it’s probably just a coincidence.”
“We’ll see,” Spike chimed back with a smirk.





The town of Surlin was nothing like Rarity had expected at any point in the trip there.  As she stepped onto the station platform, she looked out over a town nearly the size of Ponyville, currently in the bustle of a busy market weekend.  The passing ponies paused to look at Rarity, fully distracted by this elegant mare with a sabre at her side.  At first Rarity was her usual, prideful self at all the attention, but quickly noticed their eyes lingering longer on the sword than herself.  She quickly tucked the blade to her side, trotting over to the station building to collect her things.
Shortly behind her followed Spike, slinging his bookbag over his shoulder as he rushed to catch up, “So, mid day, where do we start?”
Rarity only had one thing on her mind as she moved toward the station’s attendant, a stallion in a crisp company uniform, “Hello, yes, how long until the baggage is ready?”
“Well, it was just the two of you, so they should be wheeling it over now,” the stallion responded, gesturing behind her toward the train.
Rarity turned to see the cart approaching with… one bag.  Just one.  Rarity closed her eyes and shook her head as if to clear it.  When she opened her eyes, there was still only one bag there.  The pony carting it into the room just rolled it in front of her and left.  She stood there, staring at her luggage for a moment, in denial.
“Where’s the rest?” she asked as she turned back to the attendant.
The stallion looked at the bag for a moment before asking, “You had more?”
Rarity just slowly nodded, her mind shifting from denial to anger.
“Terribly sorry, miss.  Was this the first leg of your trip, or did you transfer in Canterlot?” the attendant asked with a passive, uncaring tone.
Heat growing in her voice, Rarity replied, “We started in Ponyville and transferred.”
The attendant nodded knowingly, explaining flatly, “Well, sometimes luggage isn’t transferred properly, perhaps if the transfer is a rushed one.  It should arrive on the nex-”
Rarity’s eye twitched.  In a flash, she dropped the sword and grabbed at the stallion’s collar with her magic, shouting, “Isn’t transferred properly? Are you telling me it got put on a train somewhere else?”
Far too in shock to really respond, the attendant simply stammered as he was grappled.
“Rarity…” Spike mumbled out in shock, patting her on her side to get her attention.
Realizing the scene she was making, Rarity quickly let go of the stallion’s collar and looked around the room to make sure nopony was staring.  Growing self-conscious, she turned her attention to Spike, his claw still patting at her side.  To her surprise, he wasn’t staring at the scene she’d just made, but at something slightly behind her.
Just there, floating a few feet above the ground where she had let go of it, was the sabre.  Rarity and Spike both stared, their minds not quite processing what they were looking at.  Spike cautiously reached a claw forward and plucked it out of the air, the sword behaving normally the instant he had his claw around the sheath.  Quickly letting go, it just held the position it was resting before he released it.
“Huh,” Spike uttered calmly as he realized how it worked.
Rarity had a similar sentiment, but was still confused, “Huh?”
Spike grabbed onto the sheath again, hefting the sabre with a grin, addressing it, “You just keep getting more and more interesting, don’t you?”





The town square was a bustle, all of the townsponies milling around, going about their weekend errands.  Rarity found herself looking over the crowd and the storefronts, trying to get a sense for the town.  Spike, on the other hand, had clambered up onto the base of a statue and was clearly looking for something in particular.
“Spike,” Rarity called, forcing herself to emulate a frustrated mother, “get down from there before you fall.”
Ignoring her, Spike pointed off into the distance and reported, “There’s the inn.”
“An inn?” Rarity turned to look in the direction he’d pointed, “Darling, I’m sure we can find a more normal hotel if we ask around.”
Spike hopped down, dusting himself off and shaking his head, “Nah, not to stay at.  It’s where we’ll find a lead.”
Lost, Rarity shook her head, “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”
“Look, it’s even got a tavern on the first floor.  It’s perfect,” Spike replied, “Trust me on this one, we’ll find something there.”
Before Rarity could reply, Spike had already slung his bag over his shoulder and began walking.  With a frustrated huff, Rarity grabbed her own luggage and rushed after him, unable to catch up before he was already nearly to the door.
“Spike,” Rarity complained, grabbing him by the shoulder, “you’re going to have to explain yourself if you expect me to let you run around like this.”
“Oh, sorry, I keep forgetting,” Spike chuckled, “Basically, every good adventure has an inn, bar, or tavern early on in the plot.  It’s a melting pot of other folks passing by, other travelers, so it’s one of the best places to pick up some information.”
Rarity wanted to object, but that actually made enough sense to her.  As the smell of food drifted out of the tavern, her stomach announced her defeat with a low grumble, which she echoed in her tone, “Fine, I suppose there’s no harm in it.”
The first thing to meet Rarity’s eyes as she opened the door was the sheer variety of ponies assembled around the tavern space.  Ponies from all walks of life sat around the space, mostly sitting in groups of three to six at the tables around the main area, but more than a few sitting at the bar.  The second thing Rarity spotted was that her sword wasn’t the only one in the tavern, with at least five others in plain view.  Despite everything, seeing that sent a chill across Rarity’s body, suddenly questioning why so many ponies in this area would need weapons like that.  As she stood there taking in the scene, Spike had made his way to hop up and sit at the bar, quickly waving down the bartender.
“Hey, there,” the bartender called as he walked up, “Welcome to the Twin Eagles, what can I get for you?”
Rarity graced her way over, still a bit nervous about the patrons of this establishment, and replied, “Ah, good day to you, too.  Could I ge-”
“What do you know about the river flooding?” Spike interrupted, directly and seriously.
“-a menu… Spike, what are you doing?” Rarity snapped.
“Oh, the river?” the barkeep replied, apparently not really noticing Rarity’s complaints, “Yeah, there’s been a lot more melt on the mountaintops upstream than usual, it’s been driving people out of some of the smaller farms on the edge of the river.”
Spike spoke up again before Rarity could interject, “Any idea what’s causing the melt?”
Wiping a mug clean as he spoke, the bartender replied, “Hard to really say, but there’s rumors.  There’s a group of unicorns that lives out that way, fancy themselves sages, live in this big old temple.  Ponies don’t really trust them, so of course some think it’s their fault.”
Spike nodded seriously, turning to Rarity to see if she was drawing any of the same conclusions he was.  Rarity just stared back at him, dumbfounded by the way the conversation proceeded and trying to interpret what the barkeep had just said.  With a sigh, Spike turned to look back at the stallion.
“Anything else you two need?” he asked, setting down the now-clean mug.
“Fries for me,” Spike replied seriously, “And I think she said she wanted a menu.”
“Coming right up,” the bartender replied, stepping away from the pair.
Rarity leaned over to Spike, whispering in confusion, “What just happened?”
Thumb pointed toward the bartender, Spike replied, “I just got what sounds like a good lead.  We should track down those sages, I bet they know something.”
“No, not that,” Rarity ejected, “What was that conversation?  It felt so unnatural, it had no flow to it.  What-”
“Tavern owners always know things like that,” Spike cut her off in answer, “I dunno, you just ask them stuff.”
Rarity stared over at the bartender, feeling more out of the loop than ever, as she overheard him having a similar conversation with one of the ponies at the far end of the bar, “This all just feels so wrong.”
Spike rested his elbow on the bar to support his head, “I dunno, that’s just kinda how adventures go.  Go to tavern, get information, meet ponies, form a party, and head out.”
“A party?” Rarity asked quizzically, familiar with the term in this context, but not truly believing it applied to real life.
Sweeping across the room with a claw, Spike pointed out the groups of ponies collected at the tables around them, “Yeah, there’s plenty here already.  I bet they’re each on some sort of adventure, doing their own thing.  We could probably just pick from anyone who’s not already at a table with others.”
“I’m not sure how comfortable I’d be traveling with strangers,” Rarity replied, incredulous, before adding, “I’m not even sure I have a reason to be travelling.”
Spike slumped once more, “We’re this far already, and we finally have half of a lead on what’s up with the river.  Ponies’ livelihoods are at stake here, we can’t just-”
“Spike,” Rarity interrupted, “I’m here looking for the history of a craftsman, not to solve this county’s problems.  I’m a designer, not a hero. Whatever is going on, I’m sure any of these other adventurers could do it better than me. ”
Spike gestured wildly into the distance, raising his voice, “Rarity, everything is in place for this to be why we’re here.  We can’t just do nothing.”
Rarity bit her tongue, reaching forward to set a comforting hoof on Spike’s shoulder, “It… just doesn’t seem practical, dear.  Even if we could figure out where to go, what would we do if we got there?  Poke the river with a sword?”
Spike deflated, “There’s gotta be something we can do, we just have to keep looking.  We’re here for a reason...”
Hating to see Spike like that, Rarity unconsciously looked away and at the sabre’s hilt, “I… can’t help but agree with you there, honestly.  Even though I don’t have the certainty you do… I can sort of tell as well.”
Some wind back in his sails, Spike followed Rarity’s eyeline and looked the map over as well.  With a twitch, he noticed, “There’s a river that goes right by the star.”
Rarity to look at Spike once more, “I… yes?”
“What do you bet it’s the same one?” Spike gestured in the general direction of the swollen river, “Also, I’d bet you ten to one that the star is the sages’ temple.”
“Ten to one what?” Rarity retorted.
Spike waved it off, “Eh, we’ll deal with that when we split the loot.  But seriously, when I find you proof that the river’s flooding because of something literally on your map, will you go with me?”
“If you find me proof…”  Rarity thought it over, judging the odds.  It felt unlikely to say the least.  Then again, if it was true, fate was obviously drawing her there.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Spike’s snappy response, “No, I said ‘when’ on purpose.”
Sighed, rolling her eyes up to look at the ceiling, “Fine.  We’ll keep looking around town as long as we’re here, but if there’s nothing by the end of the weekend, we head back.  Deal?”
Spike smiled excitedly, grabbing Rarity’s hoof and shaking it, “Deal.”