From The Frying Pan And Into The Sun
“Ahhh…” He groaned as he regained consciousness.
A shuffle, clip clop sounds and the opening and closing of a door. Those were the things he heard before silence reigned supreme. His vision was blurry and he had a pounding headache. His limbs felt like lead and his throat was dryer than a GuinnesTM.
His vision cleared and his head fell to his side. He saw a nightstand. On the nightstand was nothing, no glass of water and no painkillers. Whoever put him in that bed either hadn´t counted on him being plastered, or was a bad person.
He sat up and rubbed his head with his left hand, his right busy propping him up. He looked around the room he was in. A closet, a wardrobe, a statue of some sort of dog in golden armor, a large mirror on the wall behind a small desk, and two doors. He looked up and saw a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Three candles were placed on each one of the eight arms, one near the middle of the chandelier, one on the middle of the arm and one at the edge. Thin golden chains, adorned with what looked like diamonds, hung between each arm. The candles were lit and it was obvious even to him, as plastered as he was, that these were actual candles, not light bulbs made to look like candles, but actual candles. Whoever owned this place was rich.
He moved his legs of the bed and heard the rattling of chains. He looked at his feet and saw a chain fastened to his right ankle, kinky. The other end of the chain was wrapped around the frame of the bed and held in place by a padlock.
A wooden frame. Rich, but not very smart.
He stood up and almost fell back down. Black was all he could see and his sense of balance fled into a corner. He spread his legs a bit and bent his knees. When his sight and sense of balance returned he stood up straight and stretched. He fell down into a split and grabbed his toes, then did the same to his other foot. He stood back up and cracked his back, rolled his neck and cracked his knuckles. He could have sworn he saw the dog statue flinch.
He grabbed the chain and pulled a bit. The frame gave little, but then again, he only pulled a little. The chain was long enough for him to go and pet the dog statue if he wanted, but he could go even further if he snapped it or the frame. He walked towards the door until the chain was almost straight. He reared up and spun in a full circle. He kicked with as much force as he could muster and the frame snapped. Splinters flew everywhere and the padlocked end of the chain fell to the floor between him and the bed.
He heard a shuffle much like he heard when he woke up, he was now able to identify it as the shuffling of armor. He looked to his right, at the dog statue that was now brandishing a sword in its mouth, it looked ridiculous, and he had to admit, adorable.
The door opened and in stepped at least a dozen armored dogs and surrounded him, he couldn´t even jump because of the flying dogs. Everywhere he looked there were spears and swords and horns and… horns? Some of the weird dogs had horns, and some of the horns glowed.
A spear, wrapped in a dark blue aura went for his legs, not to stab him but to smack them from beneath him. He jumped back, anticipating a pull on the chain on his ankle and saving himself from a faceplant. He grabbed the chain and yanked it away from whoever pulled it. He held the middle of the chain and spun it until it was nothing but a blur.
“Alright you bitches, if you don’t back of then someone is going to get hurt.” He said. It would probably be him who would be worst of, but they didn´t need to know that.
Some of the dogs’ eyes went wide…er and a few backed off before backing into someone behind them and steeling themselves again.
“Alright then, you asked for it.” He swung the chain into the group in front of him and scattered them, he then swung it above his head and knocked down a few flying dogs. The chain had almost stopped spinning completely when he dashed forward into the gap he had made to the door.
He was in a hallway with big windows going floor to ceiling but he couldn´t see anything on the outside. He heard the dogs behind him and sprinted to the right, where he saw multiple corridors leading away from the hallway. He took the first one to the right and was confronted with another dog, this one with a rounder face, wearing a maid outfit and holding a feather duster in its mouth.
“Brother, when I stop hallucinating I promise I´m going to make you wish you were dead for drugging me.” He didn´t have time to shake his fist angrily in the air because the hounds were behind him and he had to run, but he was going to uphold that promise.
He rounded another corner but was met with a closed wooden door. It looked like those old medieval doors, he just hoped it wasn´t locked or this was going to hurt. He picked up some speed and jumped. He leaned his whole body backwards and turned on his side, his chained right leg was as straight as he could make it while his left bent and folded against him. The door flew open and he let out a breath of relief.
He didn´t bother to close the door and lose precious momentum so he kept going. He wound up in another hallway, much like the other one but this one didn´t have any windows. He dashed to the left this time. At the end of the hallway were large double doors, adorned with gems and laced with gold. He pushed them open and closed them again as fast as he could.
He looked around, trying to find something to block the doors. He saw a mannequin. The mannequin had on a set of golden armor much like the hounds were wearing. By its side was a long sword, a greatsword, too big for him to swing comfortably. He grabbed it and slid it through the handles on the door, effectively sealing it shut.
He turned around just as the hounds started pounding the door. He looked back at the sword. It was long, but it was slowly sliding out of the handles. He pushed it back into place and determined it was going to last half a minute max. He looked around the room but there was nowhere for him to run, but plenty of places to hide.
Pathfinder and his squadron of expert trackers never lost the creature, if they lost sight of it they could always hear the rattling of the chain around its ankle. They had just turned a corner and thought they had it when a door blocked its way. “We have you now.” Pathfinder thought as they neared the door. To his considerable surprise the creature put on more speed and jumped, kicking the door open with one leg without losing speed.
They followed the creature until they came to Blueblood´s chambers, or the extra chambers he´d demanded for some reason.
The creature went in and closed the doors behind itself and just as they were about to barge in, they heard something like metal scraping against metal and charged the door. They door didn´t give, the creature had blocked the doors with something. They charged the door several times until it finally burst open.
He heard the doors open and the hounds start to shuffle inside. He had left them a hint that would lead them to the other side of the room so he could make a dash for it, now that he had gotten a bit of rest.
He had found another pony mannequin, but instead of a greatsword, it held a large battleaxe. With the battleaxe he´d managed to chop most of the chain off, and leave a part of it hanging out of a wardrobe on the other side of the room. Now he just had to hope they wouldn´t smell him.
Pathfinder looked into the room, no sight of the creature. He tried to make out some sound but the creature was either gone somehow or it was dead still. He walked forward and turned his head left and right until he saw a padlock and chain hanging out of a wardrobe on the other side of the room. He ordered two earth ponies to stand guard at the door while the rest followed him to the wardrobe. He looked behind himself and seeing that everypony was in position, he yanked the wardrobe open.
He heard the wardrobe yanked open, bolted out of the barrel and threw the lid at the small group around the wardrobe. He didn´t bother to see if it had hit someone as he dashed to the doors. Two hounds were waiting for him but he surprised them by grabbing the greatsword on the ground and swinging it at them.
They parted like the Red sea did for Moses and he threw he sword at the hound to his right. He turned right and headed back down the hallway he had ran through earlier. He took the second to last corridor on the left and was confronted with crossroads. He went left again and turned a corner to his right where he was met with some stairs. As he ascended the stairs he heard the hounds, there were fewer of them then before, either he had managed to knock some out cold with his ninja disk throw of death or they were uncertain were he´d gone.
He had just made it to the top when a pure white hound with blonde hair got in his way. He didn´t have time to properly react so he just kicked his chin with his knee before rounding the corner to his left.
He kept running straight until he came across a large room, full of hounds. He skidded to a halt and jumped into closet that just so happened to be there. He heard the hounds following him skid to a halt as well and make some noise with the other hounds that he couldn´t quite make out, it sounded like speech but that was ridiculous, they were dogs, weird, big eyed dogs that ran and flew very slowly and had trouble rounding corners, but still dogs.
He heard them come back and stop in front of the closet. He removed the bar holding the clothes, kicked the door open and threw the bar, clothes and all, at the hounds. The hounds swung their swords and stabbed with their spears at random while they tried to pry the clothes of off themselves while he ran into the crowded room, earning a few gasps and a feint for some reason.
There were four ways in and out of the room that he could see, one directly in front of him, packed with armored hounds, one through the crowd, packed with armored and unarmored hounds, one behind him, packed with armored hounds. That only left the big doors directly to his left. He pushed them open and ran inside, but stopped as he saw more armored hounds and a large, gold adorned hound with both wings and a horn.
“Shit.”
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Round two. FIGHT!
Ok so now he can speak but still shits on the pony's...lol ?
"Oh Shit..."
...I would think Celestia's appearance would make it obvious that they were 'horses' as opposed to the previous assumption of dogs.
a bit of history wont hurt
3512214 You wake up in a room, feeling like shit, being held by chains and threatened by several dogs with spears. What did you expect him to do?
3513179 Or what he thinks are dogs. Ponies are Equestrian, bro...and that means 'like a horse'.
Am I the only one really confused by the whole "dog" thing?
3513530 Yes.
3513530 I can see how he would have made the mistake. The ponies in this story aren't exactly big, I mean do they even come up to his waist? With all that armor on, it would be easy to think they were something else.
Your chapters are always short but I love them regardless
3520237
That you consider my story worth reading AND complimenting means a lot to me. 
Thank you so much for that wonderful compliment.
3520741
and just remember my motto, "When you don't care what others think of you is when you're happiest in life."
You're welcome
This is how I do.
3544500
Nice!