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...It Was A Weirder Time1,250 words
There Was Danger Everywhere...1,210 words
But It Was Worth It In The End...360 words

...It Was A Weirder Time

What was my greatest solo adventure?

I've gone through many journeys back in my day. Some effortlessly simple, some life-threateningly dangerous, some that result in me missing countless library fees.

Ooooh, all the library fees......

Anyways, I'm getting off track.

While all of them were good times, this particular mission is one that I remember the most fondly of. One that I faced completely solo. For the most part...

My perilous, yet bizzare quest for the Rosewood Crystal.

Many, many, manymanymany moons ago, I braved the foggy bogs of MuchSmellia one humid afternoon, having followed a withered path for hours in hopes of finding myself a place to rest. The only thing in my possession was a large wicker basket full of, let's just say, the bare necessities.

My wavy, luxurious beard waved on in the cool wind as I scuffed the gnarly moss from my hooves. There, I see upon the horizon, a quiet little village. Not one of the best looking villages out there, but nopony's perfect.

It had been quite a hectic morning, so I decided to take a rest stop at a nearby saloon.

Once I stepped inside, however, a part of me preferred the bog.

The place was crawling with sneaky, flea-bitten vermin and the heinous aroma of a poorly managed stable filled the room. The shady exchanges and boisterous roaring of the patrons grinded to a halt as I trotted over toward the bar, everypony's eyes locked onto me.

"What can I get for ya, stranger?" the barkeep asked, scrubbing the dirty counter with an even filthier rag.

"Do you have any bread by any chance, my good stallion?" I asked. "And some water would be nice."

"Comin' right up."

As I patiently waited for my refreshments, I noticed a dark unicorn mare fashioning a live cobra around her neck staring daggers at me a few stools away.

"Afternoon, madam." I uttered.

Her stern frown remained still as her cobra hissed at me and proceeded to devour the shot of cider on the counter beside it.

"Nice chatting with you both."

After some rather awkward silence, the barkeep finally returns with three slices of bread and a glass of water.

"Here ya go, mate."

"Much appreciated." I nodded, levitating two bits on the counter before taking my meal.

I cautiously stepped my way around the unidentifiable messes strewn across the wooden floor toward a clear table in the corner of the establishment, bread and water in my magic. Keeping to myself, I took a seat, tore two chunks from a slice of bread and dropped them along with the cup of water into the opened basket resting beside me.

Suddenly, a rather putrid odor assaulted my nostrils as the shadow of a tall figure towers over me.

"How's it goin', gramps?" a stallion in grimy clothing cleared his raspy voice with a toothy smirk. "What brings you here?"

"I'm a V.I.W." I stated bluntly.

"A wha?"

"A very important wizard, my good boy."

"Pffft, yeah right. Nice outfit, 'wizard'."

The stallion pulled the brim of my hat over my eyes with a deep, buffoonish chortle.

"As much as I would love to chat, sir," I sighed, lifting my hat up from my line of vision. "I'm trying to enjoy my lunch here, as you can clearly tell. I've been traveling for quite a long while and would like to rest right now."

"Ooh, ya hear that?" the brute scoffed loudly, getting everypony's attention. "Oldie here has been traveling for a 'long' time. From here to the outhouse, I bet!"

Hearty laughter and heavy stomps from the bar's patrons flooded the room while I kept my composure.

"Ya know, I've been givin' you a hard time," he continued. "Here, have a drink. It's on me!"

The rowdy crowd's laughter and cheers grew twice as loud as the dirty hooligan cruelly pours a mug of frothy cider upon my jingling hat, soaking it along with my cloak and fur.

There, I feel a single drop of the lukewarm beverage slither down my cheek and stain my signature BEARD.

"I must say," I said sternly. "You have made quite a mess."

"Oh, please," the stallion blew a raspberry. "What are you gonna do about it, huh? Why don't you go tend to your back pains?"

"Very well then." I nodded, delicately closing and carrying the basket in my magic.

I rose from my seat and casually headed for the exit, keeping my head low to avoid the filthy mugs and crummy poker cards carelessly being thrown around.

"Panthenol, citric acid, and jojoba oil," I said, sliding a large barrel up against the bar's wooden doors. "You know what they all have in common?"

Everypony's harsh and juvenile remarks are quickly silenced as I flip a table high with my magic, expertly placing it atop the barrel.

"W-What are you going on about, you old coot?" the rude stallion gulped, backing away from me.

"They're all found inside conditioner," I continued. "Hair conditioner, to be exact. The kind of hair that's both luxurious and sacred. Like my beard for example, which you have tarnished with your ignorance. I wouldn't use the term 'old', but rather......'experienced'."

My mighty horn shined a bright white that lit up the relatively dim establishment, astonishing all that witnessed its hypnotizing glow.

"What are you gonna do with that thing?!" the stallion grunted.

"I'm just taking your advice to heart, son. I'm tending to the pains in my back!"

With a blinding pulse from my horn, the stallion was thrown into the bar counter with a loud CRUNCH, shaking the whole saloon.

When the dust settled, the large oaf rose from the cracked pile of lumber.

"Oooooh, now ya done made it personal." he hissed.

I smirked a glorious smirk before shattering a nearby glass mug against the lunging ruffian's noggin, forcing him to the ground with a triumphant hoof.

"Anypony else care to share their grievances?" I asked.

Just when I assumed the hostility cooled down-

PEW!

A golden beam of magic from my basket soared past me, striking a pony whom had attempted to strike at me and sent him crashing into a trash bin.

"Anyone ELSE have anything to say?

Everypony shook their heads.

For real this time.

"Good."

As I let out a satisfied sigh, I trotted over to the barkeep, placing a generous tip on the counter before him.

"I'm looking for a safe path to a mountain," I stated. "You have any maps on you by any chance?"

"O-Of course, sir," the barkeep squealed, rustling through a crate of old maps. "I gots all kinds of maps right here, mate. Where ya need to go? Oats County? Hoove's Pass? Luna Ray?

"Rosewood Mountain."

The bar was suddenly filled with gasps and murmurs from all sides.

"Sure about that one?" the barkeep asked, concerned. "Ya know that places mighty cursed, right?"

"I can manage," I said. "Curses are merely mouse traps compared to what I've been up against. Word of advice, buy more mouse traps. You desperately need them."

Rustling further, the stallion finally found the correct map. "H-Here you go then, on da house."

"Thank you."

I collected the map and headed out with my things.

"Farewell, gentlecolts," I nodded calmly, strolling out of the bar. "I do hope you've learned something on this day."

I left that quaint little bar with my horn, my hat and my pride held high.

Nopony messes with another pony's beard.

Ever...

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