The Trials of Shmarity: an Ogres and Oubliettes Story

by TheMessenger

12. The Black Road

12. The Black Road

Per Huntress’s advice, the family of former clock shop owners plus Rarity made their way down the old road while the sun was up, and when evening came along they stopped to take shelter in the structures of the abandoned villages and towns along the way. The first few nights had been an ordeal as the howls of prowling nocturnal beasts kept them from sleeping soundly, reinforcing the need to reach and stop at these old settlements before sundown. Nopony felt safe with just the thin canvas of their tents for protection, not after hearing those monstrous growls, but eventually even the loudest and most feral of such sounds was reduced to mere ambient noise to fall asleep to as the group fell into a routine of finding and securing a complete set of walls before darkness fell each night.

Besides the fright ambiance of the first nights, a couple of close calls where they barely made it safely indoors before nightfall, and the sightings of some sizable shadows, the worst the group had experienced was some damage to the cart and a loss in their rations when they had left the wagon and the excess supplies outside for the night, and even then the damage was largely superficial and after some panic, they determined that there would still be plenty of food for the trip as long as they exercised moderation. All in all, after the initial excitement, the trip was mostly uneventfully, and their greatest struggles were enduring Clockworks’s constant gripping on just about everything and dealing with the sheer boredom.

They encountered no other beings on the partially paved road. There were no bandits to fight off or merchants to barter or fellow travelers to exchange stories with. Every village and town they entered was a ghost town, devoid of life save for the weeds and grass and the nightly parade of beasts. All that remained of the original inhabitants besides their old homes were the small trinkets they had left behind: a moth eaten hat, a toy sword made of wood, a cheap wedding band, a broken music box, a cradle next to a rocking chair that was missing a leg.

In four nights, they had made four such stops in four such settlements differing only in size and the number of standing structures available. Rarity managed to find the names of two of them and referenced them with her map. After exhausting Pendula’s knowledge on the mysterious Fey, which mostly consisted of fairytales about naughty foals being spirited away or punished ironically, and sharing a little about her life as a seamstress, which she could tell didn’t really interest Pendula, Rarity kept herself busy by keeping track of their journey and determining how much further they had to go.

“So how much longer until we reach Candelkeep?” grumbled Clockworks. He and Minutiae had been taking turns asking Rarity similar annoying questions for the past few hours. She let out a sigh, the same sigh she had been giving out every time she had to answer.

“As I’ve already said, if the town we left this morning was indeed Marebrook, we should be reaching Candelkeep in another two days.” From there, there would be another day of travel to get to Baldursgait, a trek Rarity would be making alone.

“Another two days,” Clockworks repeated with a snort. “Yesterday you said it was three days.”

Rarity’s teeth could’ve grounded stone into fine powder if they were grit any harder. “Indeed,” she managed to say through pursed lips. “Funny that.”

“Are we even going the right way? We’re not wasting our time going the wrong way, are we? We’d better not be, because if we are...”

At this point, Rarity simply tuned the old stallion out and turned her focus on her surroundings instead. He and his tongue would tire out eventually, as they had the last hour and the hour before, after which it would be Minutiae’s turn to bother her about how much longer the trip was to be. At least Pendula could help distract the filly before her whining grew too unbearable.

There wasn’t much to see and take her mind off of Clockworks’s ranting, unfortunately. Some fields of grass, a couple patches of dandelions, the occasional lone tree that barely provided enough shade for them all, a dried up stream. It was the very landscape an artist would come up with if they were inspired by the very feeling of boredom. To relieve herself of her own dullness, Rarity’s imagination painted stalls along the road that was now suddenly smooth and maintained. Carts pulled by merchants passing by ran over the polished stones without a single bump as ponies at the stalls called out to them and peddled their wares, offering cheap souvenirs and refreshments to weary travelers at exorbitant prices. The old trade route came back to life in Rarity’s mind. Had this Ben what life was like back then, when the towns they passed through were still inhabited?

The daydream collapsed when Minutiae interrupted her thoughts with those four words any chaperone dreaded hearing:

“Are we there yet?”

And so the battle for Rarity’s sanity continued throughout the day, breaking only when they stopped for a midday meal before resuming through the afternoon as Clockworks’s complaints expanded to include how much his hooves hurt and how the sun was getting too hot and how tired his legs were getting. Rarity was honestly starting to miss Huntress as a traveling companion; the mare’s aloof quietness was an unappreciated blessing next to the endless noise she had to contend now.

More than her, however, for all of Huntress’s expertise, Rarity missed the company of a certain five ponies. Pinkie Pie would have found something entertaining out of this mire of tedium. Having Twilight direct the trip would have certainly alleviated any concerns of being lost or getting to their destination in a timely manner, and she could certainly field any questions about the trip better than Rarity could have. Rainbow Dash always had something to say, and Applejack could be counted on to have an engaging response ready. And Fluttershy was a wonderful listener, always there to lend an ear even if it meant never getting a word in herself, and her very presence seemed to bring an air of comfort that made it easy to relax around.

And then there was a certain little dragon, there to support whatever role was lacking, even if that role meant staying behind and taking on some extra responsibilities so that they six were free to set off and accomplish whatever mission they were assigned. Spike wasn’t always a traveling partner, but the times when he was were always enjoyable. He was always so attentive to her needs, whether they be a couple more cushions or an extra ear.

Rarity thought of the last time he had accompanied her on a trip, of their long conversation about nothing, of how she dominated the dialogue with a passionate rant on a topic she had since forgotten that had quickly scared off or bored everypony else, of how Spike clung to every word and encouraged her on with wide, eager eyes, of how lively and excited he had been. The memory was replayed, and after its second repeat, Rarity moved on to the next and then to the one after that, keeping her last and most recent instance of seeing Spike, of the dragon limp on the floor, unmoving and forced into those ridiculous robes and that silly beard, at bay.

She looked up and noted the sun’s slow descent. If there was one saving grace of this wreck of a road trip, one small ray of positivity that kept her from tearing out her mane in frustration, it was that the days went by quickly. It hadn’t felt like even an hour had passed since their stop for lunch, but based on the current position of the sun, it was much closer to evening than it was to noon. Pretty soon, they would be treated to a display of reds and oranges over the blue skies above.

Rarity turned to her fellow travelers. “We may need to pick up the pace,” she said, gesturing upward. “We might have a hour or so before sunset, and I don’t see any sign of the next town.”

Clockworks scowled at the sun. “We’re going as fast as we can. You sure we only got an hour left?”

“Well, no, not exactly,” admitted Rarity. “Could be a little more, maybe a little less. Considering what might happen to us if we don’t find shelter before nightfall, I’d rather err on the side of caution.”

Clockworks huffed. “Well that all very good and all for you young folk, but not everypony here can just break into a gallop. You know how much of a strain this is on me already? How much further is the next place anyways?”

“I, can’t imagine it’s much further.”

“Can’t imagine? You mean you don’t know? You’re the one with the map! How can you not know?”

“The map doesn’t have that kind of detail,” Rarity snapped back. “I’ve shown you that already. Now, why don’t we stop wasting time arguing about my timekeeping and distance gauging and get moving?”

“Don’t start ordering me around, missy. I’m old enough to be your father, and I demand your—“

“Father,” Pendula suddenly exclaimed, her tone sharper than it had ever been. Clockworks appeared just as shocked at her outcry as Rarity had been, and he turned his glare to her, opening his mouth to redirect his berating but was cut off before he get a word in as his daughter continued, saying in a much more sweetly voice, “Why don’t you ride in the cart the rest of the way? That way, you won’t have to worry about slowing us down.”

“I’m not worried. I can keep up with the best of you,” Clockworks grumbled even as he climbed onto the cart and pushed around the supplies to make room. “Alright, let’s go.”

Rarity bit back a sigh. “Wait, let me help pull the cart,” she said, and Pendula stepped to the side and adjusted the harness to fit the both of them.

“Can I ride in the cart too?” asked Minutiae, her tail shaking with excitement at the possibility.

“Might as well, I suppose,” Rarity said after she and Pendula shared a look, and the filly, with a small cheer, quickly made her way onto the cart as well.

“Everypony ready?” Pendula asked.

“Ready!” Minutiae said as Clockworks grunted an affirmative. Pendula looked to Rarity who nodded. She returned the nod, and together they took in a breath.

The mares stepped forward, and the cart and all that was in it went with them. With each step they took, they built up speed, slowly transitioning from a jog to a trot to a run to just short of a full out gallop. Their hooves thundered against the road’s rocky, uneven pavement as the wheels of the wagon clacked noisily over the cracks and the bumps.

Rarity’s heart pushed and pummeled against her chest as if trying to escape from its confines. Her lungs soon burned with each forceful inhale and each exhausted exhale. Her legs started to cramp as their muscles tightened. She was no stranger to running, given how being a hero of Equestria meant there was almost always some danger to run towards or away from. But running with a weight attached, physically, with no magic at her disposal, was something new. Applejack and even Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy of all ponies had made it look so easy. How all those taxis in Manehattan could do this for a living was baffling.

The setting sun spurred her onward, forcing her to ignore the pain while reminding her just how little time was left in the day. Huntress had said that the large number of towns and villages made the dangers of night a nonissue, that there was always some place they could find safety in became it became dark. Had she been mistaken? It was this late already, and still there was no settlement in sight.

No, wait, there in the distance. Rarity could barely make out the tips of chimneys, but there they were, and they were getting more visible with each step she and Pendula took. The chimneys became roofs, and the roofs turned into houses. “There!” Rarity heard Minutiae shout from behind. As if the filly had spoken some magic word, Rarity and Pendula found some unspent energy deep in their reserves and pushed themselves at an even quicker pace, leaving the main, partially paved road for the dirt side trail that was leading to that collection of buildings.

The town as a whole could now be properly seen against the backdrop of the setting sun, but there was still a good deal of distance between it and they. The shadows behind them were becoming larger and more prominent as the sun continued its descent, taking some of their hope with it as it sank past the horizon.

Rarity readied herself for an immediate frantic search for safety as they battled with whatever monstrosities hunted in the dark when suddenly a little light appeared, shining from within the town. Then, another appeared and then another until the entire town seemed to glow and shine like a beacon. As they got closer and more of the buildings could be seen and discerned, Rarity saw that several of those lights were coming out of the windows, their sources from somewhere indoors. But then, wouldn’t that mean—

“Hey!” came a cry as they and their cart shot past the town’s borderline. “I’m walking here!”

A surprised Rarity tried slowing down to turn and spot the source of the exclamation. The cart and all it carried, however, had no inclination of stopping for the sake of Rarity’s curiosity and continued onward, colliding into her backside and forcing her forward. With a panicked yelp, Rarity dug her hooves into the dirt, and suddenly the cart started to skid to one side. More screams joined hers as the cart spun out of control a good several yards before losing momentum and slowing to a shaky stop in the center of the road.

Rarity opened her eyes and found herself now facing the town’s entrance and the direction they had just came from. A crowd of muttering ponies had already gather around them, their confused and worried expressions illuminated by the light of lantern hanging from the doorways of houses. Many wore vests and several had on wide brim hats typically seen in frontier settlements like Appleloosa, but there were also some in long white robes clasped closed by a chain at the front of the neck.

“Is everypony alright?” she heard Pendula say. Rarity looked up and to her side and saw that the mare was still on her hooves, and besides some dirt in her coat and some heavy breathing, she looked no worse for wear.

“Y-yeah. We’re alright,” came Minutiae quiet, frightened voice. Rarity watched as Pendula look over to the wagon and let out a sigh of relief after she had finished her cursory assessment

“The heck we are!” Clockworks growled. “I could’ve broken something. Or worse, something could have happened to our wares. What then, huh? What happened back there?”

“I-I’m sorry. I was caught off-guard. I just, didn’t expect, well.” Rarity gestured to the growing crowd around them. “This.”

“What are you—“ Clockworks looked up. His jaw dropped as he finally noticed all the ponies before him. “I thought you said all these places were abandoned,” he hissed.

“I never told you that,” Rarity whispered back angrily. “When have I ever said that?” She turned to Pendula. “Have I ever said that?”

Pendula was in the middle of a shrug when a small group split from the main crowd and approached the wagon. Their leader, a brown stallion with a matching farm hat, cleared his throat. “So, uh, is everypony alright? Anypony hurt?” he asked.

The group looked to each other. For a moment, they just stared, waiting to see if somepony else would take charge.

“Thank you for your concern, truly, we’re just—“

“—all alright, thanks. Just a bit—“

“—what’s it to you? Who even are you folk, anyways?”

Not expecting to receive three separate, simultaneous responses, the stallion blinked and took an uneasy step back, as if creating a little space would help him better understand that jumbled mess of words they had offered him. One of his companions leaned over and whispered into his ear while the rest of the surrounding ponies muttered amongst themselves. Some even pointed shamelessly, undeterred by Clockworks’s scowl or Rarity’s judgmental frown. That frown deepened as Rarity slowly realized that a growing number of those stares and pointed hooves, a number too great to easily attribute to just coincidence, was directed at her and her specifically.

Now Rarity was not the type of mare who suffered from stage fright. Rather, she relished any spotlight if it meant an opportunity to make the world more stylish. In this instance, however, all Rarity had to offer was this drab traveler’s cloak and a messy mane that could, should, and better would be forgiven considering that she had been on the road for about a week now with few chances to fix it and fewer tools to do so properly. As such, Rarity doubted that the interest she seemed to be garnering was from sparking a fashion revolution, and besides, she didn’t look all that different from the rest of the group, and none of them appeared to be getting the same attention as she was.

Coming up with only one reasonable explanation, Rarity grabbed hold of the cloak’s hood, but after taking a couple of small, calming breaths, she refrained from throwing it over her head. There was no way to do so inconspicuously, and any attempt to hide her face now would only draw more suspicion. For now, Rarity decided, she would try and avoid attracting more attention and maybe just leave the speaking to Pendula and Clockworks.

The stallion who had initially approached waved away his whispering acquaintance. His face had been a medley of expressions during those whispers, from that of mild curiosity to intensive study as his eyes fell upon Rarity to confusion and finally to annoyance as the whispers in his ear continued on a tad too long. The stallion’s gaze alternated between her, Pendula, and Clockworks as he struggled to decide on who to address. “Um, sorry. Didn’t quite catch all that. Is everypony alright then? I think got that much.”

“Maybe,” Clockworks grunted. With some help from his daughters, the old stallion climbed down from the cart and stepped forward. “Who’s asking?”

The crowd stirred, roused by the display of rudeness. The stallion who had approached narrowed his eyes into a glare. “Friend, I don’t know why you’ve got such a chip on your shoulder, but if you’re just going to cause trouble the minute you step into our town, maybe you should turn that wagon of yours around and go back to wherever you came from.”

Some in the audience nodded and cheered their agreement. Clockworks’s face reddened, and his legs shook. He opened his mouth to respond, but Pendula, having freed herself from the cart’s harness, stopped him with a touch on his shoulder, a firm shake of her head, and a frightened expression.

Rarity sighed as she removed herself from the cart as well and stepped between the two glaring stallions. So much for staying in the background. “I am so sorry for my companion’s behavior,” she said to the local. “I won’t ask you to excuse him, but please understand that we’ve been on the road for a good while now, and you’re the first ponies we’ve encountered all week. We’re all in a bit of shock, not to mention very tired from walking all day and also panicking over the possibility of being out there in the open during the night,” Rarity rambled on with a small wave, a little giggle, and a subtle flip of her mane as she brushed it back. “Pardon me, this is all just a long way of saying he’s not himself right now, what with the exhaustion and the stress and everything.”

The stallion’s expression softened, and he returned the small smile Rarity had given him. “Well, I guess I can understand that,” he said, removing his hat and scratching his head. “Explains why you all were charging into town like a bat out of Hades. Wouldn’t want to be out there myself.” He put the hat back on. “So where are you folk from?”

“That’s none of your—“

“East.” This time, Pendula was the one to speak. “We’re from east.”

“East, huh?” The stallion let out a low whistle as a collective gasp rang through the crowd. “Didn’t think there was anypony still out that way. Is it, uh.” He swallowed. “Is it as bad as they say it is?”

After a hesitant moment, Pendula nodded, and the crowd’s chatter became louder and more animated. Some ponies appeared to have begun arguing, and many had replaced their curious looks with ones of concern. A few of the ponies in white robes caught Rarity’s attention with their wild gesticulations as they exhorted the ponies around them, and of those spirited few, Rarity noticed that none of them appeared all too worried, and the fearful expressions of some of their listeners, particularly of the ones also robed in white, had faded.

One robed pony stepped up to the stallion who had initially approached the cart, and after brushing aside the attempts of the stallion’s companions to keep him back, he began to speak softly into his ear. About what, Rarity couldn’t be sure, but if there was a chance it involved the fates of her and her fellow travelers, she couldn’t risk the town’s decision relying on a couple of whispers. She had to be the one controlling the conversation, and so with an exaggerated clearing of her throat, Rarity interrupted and stole the attention of the crowd.

“Sir, please,” she said, addressing the stallion currently acting as the town’s representative, “we’re just looking for a place to stay for the night. We won’t be any trouble, we promise, and we’ll be gone in the morning. That’s all we ask of you. Please, there is foal with us.”

Everypony followed Rarity’s gesture toward the wagon. It took Minutiae a while to notice that the crowd had turned to her, and by the time she ducked down to hide, it was too late. “Shucks.” The stallion in the front took off his hat again. “I mean, yeah, that’s not a problem. I’m sure Ms. Innskeeper would love getting some actual business. She’s the innkeeper, by the way, though these days it’s mostly just a tavern. She actually has the recipe that put Bakersfield on the map. Er, when it was on the map. Goes great with her potato soup.”

The robed pony suddenly took a step forward. “And if you haven’t the coin, I am certain we can find you room in our temple,” she offered.

Clockworks’s ears perked up. “You’re saying it’s free?”

The mare in the white robes smiled. “Well, I’m sure we can come up with some sort of an arrangement.”

The old stallion snorted and settled back. “Figures,” he said, but at least he had the sense to do so quietly.

“Why don’t we see the inn first?” suggested Rarity. “It has been some time since we last had a hot meal.” The others nodded, even Clockworks agreed, and she turned back to the local. “You mentioned soup, yes?”

“Soup, fresh bread, baked potatoes,” the stallion listed. “It’s, uh, nothing too special, but yeah, it’ll be hot. Not sure if there’ll be room for your cart there though, you’ll have to ask Ms. Innskeeper.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Rarity said. “Now which way to the inn?”

“You want to head back that way,” the stallion instructed, pointing them to the entrance of the town. “There’ll be this wood cutout of a bed right above the door. It’s pretty hard to miss if you keep an eye out. I’d take you there myself, but.” He rubbed his neck. “I haven’t exactly kept a tidy tab there and don’t want my missus making any assumptions.”

“That’s quite alright.” Rarity smiled. “You’ve been so much help already, we can’t thank you enough.”

“Hey, not a problem, miss. Just keep this one in check, alright?” The stallion motioned to Clockworks who grumbled to himself and kicked at the dirt. “We really don’t need the extra trouble.”

“Of course. And again, thank you so much.”

The stallion gave one final nod before he and the rest of his companions melted back into the crowd. As Rarity and Pendula returned to the wagon’s harness, their audience shrunk. The gathered townsfolk had begun to losing interest and many were returning to their nightly rituals. Several were even walking in the direction where the inn was apparently located. By the time Rarity and the rest of the group were ready to move, only a couple of gawkers were still around to watch.

“Come down from there, Minutiae,” Pendula ordered. “Ride’s over, you can walk the rest of the way.”

“Fine,” Minutiae said with an annoyed sigh, and she jumped down from the cart. She walked beside her father, leading the way with Rarity, Pendula, and the cart trailing closely behind. As they walked, Rarity took the opportunity, now that they weren’t in a hysterical hurry, to better observe the town and what it had to offer. The settlement appeared to be organized into two long rows of buildings that ran along the length of the road, which was wide enough for several ponies to use comfortably at a time. The road was smooth from the regular traffic and was missing both the overgrown weeds and the scattered pieces of scrap wood and stone that covered the streets of the other towns they had visited, making the guiding of their laden cart a much simpler affair.

Regarding the structures themselves, there was a noticeable lack of ruined buildings, of houses with boarded up windows and broken doors and missing walls, as one would expect given the presence of actual inhabitants who could care for the upkeep their homes. The buildings were largely made of timber with the corners supported with columns of brick and cut stone, similar to what they had seen in the smaller settlements they had stopped in. Signs that distinguished the shops from the residences and from one another were at worst a little dusty and could easily be seen by the light of the many lanterns hung at the entrances, though much like in the previous towns the display windows were mostly empty.

And of course there were the actual ponies, the most distinctive feature of the town. The initial crowd that had greeted them had been a decent representation of the town’s population, with mostly earth pony stallions in work vest and farm hats along with a smaller number of mares in simple frontier style dresses and bonnets. There were also a few of those ponies with the white robes around, and as they continued toward the town’s entrance, Rarity noticed that there were also several ponies wearing padded barding and an assortment of protective headgear ranging from sporting helmets to pots and pans tied in place with rope. A few had spears, but most were armed with farming implements like pitchforks and shovels and wood axes, and there were even several with sticks that just had a kitchen knife attached to an end. A militia, Rarity recognized, and not a very well coordinated one by the looks of it, with members scattered haphazardly about and wandering aimlessly.

A pair of such ponies suddenly burst out into the streets, chortling and singing as they stumbled out of a building that had a carving of a made bed over its doorway. “This must be the place,” Clockworks announced as Rarity watched another armed stallion approach his fellows and tell them off. “Minutiae, stay here and watch the cart with, uh, hm.” He turned to Rarity and frowned. “Don’t think we ever got your name. That ranger or whatever she was, she kept saying it wasn’t our business.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to—“

“Well, no matter,” Clockworks continued on. “You and Minutiae keep an eye on the cart while Pendula and me get us some boarding and maybe figure out if they’ve got some place to keep our stuff. And watch it carefully,” he added, glaring at a couple walking by. “I don’t trust this place. It’s too, rustic. Too small.” He started toward the door but was stopped by Pendula.

“Father, why don’t you stay with the cart, and I’ll go with her instead,” Pendula proposed with a nod to Rarity.

“What? Why?”

“Well, we all saw her back there with the crowd. I’d say she’s easily the most well spoken of us, and if we’re trying to secure lodging, she might be the best pony to be sending in there.”

“Are you serious? Pendula, it’s me, your father, the owner of the best clock shop in all of Trotlen—“

“The only clock shop in Trotlen,” mumbled Minutiae.

“—and I would not have that position if it weren’t for my impeccable customer service and pony skills,” Clockworks finished, pounding his chest proudly.

“Yes, but all you’ve done so far is pick fights with the locals,” Pendula argued. “You’ve haven’t exactly done anything to endear yourself.”

“So what?” Clockworks said. “What, you really think I’ve already got some sort of reputation? Please, don’t be silly.”

“Mommy, look! It’s the grumpy old pony who didn’t have his nap.”

“Don’t point, sweetie. Just because he was rude doesn’t mean we should be.”

Clockworks turned to glower at the ponies who had spoken, but with how many ponies there were on the streets staring or pointing at him, he had no way of confirming the source of his verbal ridicule. “Fine, I suppose we’ll leave the talking to you,” he conceded, jabbing a hoof at Rarity. “But I’m going with you, make sure you aren’t being fleeced or anything.”

“Very well,” Rarity said with a small sigh. She turned to Pendula and Minutiae. “As long as nopony else has any problems with this arrangement.” The two shook their heads, and with that, Rarity and Clockworks stepped onto the building’s porch, pushed opened the door beneath the image of the bed, and went inside.

Oil lamps hung on walls decorated with peeling flowery patterns bathed the room and all of the patrons in a warm light, slightly tinted red from the color of the lampshades. The establishment was crowded, with several packed tables between them and the empty counter in the back of the room. A hallway at the side led further into the building where additional reveling could be heard. Laughters and yells filled whatever space wasn’t occupied by bodies as the rowdier stallions and mares pounded their hooves and mugs impatiently against their tables. A few ponies spared glances at the two as they brushed by and made their way to the counter, but most were too preoccupied with their plates and bowls and mugs to pay them much heed.

The scent of something warm and filling reached Rarity’s nostrils, and after so many days of preserved, largely tasteless meals, even a lady with all of Rarity’s grace and poise couldn’t help but have her mouth water at least a little. She forced down the gathering saliva and hurried on, leading the way through the labyrinth of tables and ponies until they finally reached the receptionist area. All that was there to greet them, however, was a silver service bell on the surface of the counter and a wall of empty key hooks.

Rarity peeked around, looking for some clue that somepony worked here, maybe a sign explaining their absence that had fallen or some personal decorative knickknacks. With a scoff at Rarity’s fruitless search, Clockworks stepped up and slammed down onto the service bell. A second ring followed the first, and soon there was a continuous ring resonating through the building, competing with the hearty conversations of the clientele. Some ponies nearby turned to stare at the growing annoyance, but Clockworks continued banging away, ignoring the looks they and Rarity were giving him.

“Alright, alright! I heard you the first time. Knock it off,” somepony, a mare by the sound of it, said. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Two seconds after, a mare, maybe a little older than Rarity’s mother if the gray strands in her blond mane were of any indication, approached them. She wore a stained apron over her front and had her mane tied back with a bandanna. On her back was a tray with used dishes and mugs piled high.

“Look, if you want something to eat or drink, find a table and flag down one of the girls that don’t look as busy,” the mare said before either Rarity or Clockworks could open their mouths to speak. “There are more tables in the tavern proper. Now if you lot’ll excuse me.” She started to turn.

“Actually, ma’am,” Rarity said, “we were looking to get a room for the night. If there are any available,” she added, looking to the keyless hooks on the wall.

The mare stopped. “Wait, you’re looking for a room? Here, to stay in? As in, for lodging?”

“Well, we were told this is an inn. Were we mistaken?”

“Oh no, not at all. Just, let me leave these here.” The mare put the tray of dirty bowls and plates down and went behind the counter. “Yeah, this is the inn, but we haven’t had any actual visitors in forever. Not since that old trade route shut down, anyways. We’ve just been using the rooms these days to hold the ponies who’ve had too much to drink, but yeah, we’ve got rooms.” She returned to the countertop with a box and a smile. “I’m Ms. Innskeeper, by the way, the owner. Now, that’s a room for...”

The mare paused, giving Rarity an odd look. “Um, oh.” She chuckled. “For a second there, I thought Her Highness was here in my inn. Heh, anypony ever tell you you look an awful lot like the princess?”

“Er, yes. I have heard that.”

“Well, anyways, that’ll be two rooms.” The mare pulled out two brass keys from the box and placed them in front of them. “Or would you prefer to be in the same room? We can bring out an extra cot if you’d like.”

“There are four of us, actually. And we also need some place to keep our cart, if such space is available.”

“Alrighty then, that’s not a problem. Why don’t we take care of your cart first?” The mare ducked back behind the counter. “The barn we used to keep the travelers’ wagons and such in is a little cluttered at the moment, what with all the extra junk we’ve been storing in it, so we’ll have to move a couple of things first.”

“And it’s secure?” Clockworks asked. “You guarantee that it and all its contents won’t be tampered with?”

“I mean, you’ll get your own stable and your own padlock.” The mare got back up and placed a large, rusty lock next to the room keys. “We haven’t had any thefts or anything before, but if you’ve got valuables, you’re probably better off keeping anything shiny with you. And speaking of shiny.” She tapped her hooves together and placed them over the keys and the lock. “I’m going to need to see some coin before we continue. This is a business after all.”

“Of course.” Rarity started feeling for the purse in her saddlebag.

“Hold on,” Clockworks said, holding up a hoof. “Let’s talk pricing before we go and show the world all we’ve got. How much is this going to cost us?”

“It’s a gold piece per room, plus fifteen silvers to hold your cart,” the mare said. “Meals are separate, but if you decide to stay, we can work out a discount.”

“Fifteen?” Clockworks jerked back, as if the mare had jumped at him with teeth barred. “Just so you can shove our cart in some dusty shed? And you can’t even be sure it won’t get damaged or be stolen. No ma’am, we won’t be paying a copper over five silver. Who came up with that price? Where’s the owner? I ought to give them a piece of my mind.”

“I’m the owner. I came up with the price,” the mare responded, frowning. “I might be willing to knock a couple of silvers off of the first room since you all are my first actual lodgers in a good long while, but barn space is fifteen silvers and not one less.”

“That’s robbery. If these are your prices, no wonder nopony comes to stay,” Clockworks snorted. “Eight silvers for the barn, else we walk. I’m sure we can find some place more accommodating.”

The inn owner smirked and shook her head. “This is the only place in town, pal. You want somewhere to stash your cart, it’s going to be fifteen silvers.”

“Heard there’s some sort of temple that’s got room. Maybe we’ll try there, unless, of course—“ The stallion leaned over the with an elbow on the countertop. “—you can lower that price to a gold piece.”

“Ha! Yeah, if you can stand those crazy cultists, then have fun sleeping on the cold, hard floor, and even then you’ll still need somewhere to keep your cart. Fifteen silvers.”

Rarity coughed loudly. “Perhaps we could—“

“Alright, so how about a gold piece and two silvers?” Clockworks continued on, giving Rarity a silencing glare and motioning her to step back. “Come on, you really think you’re going to get a better deal than that?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Fifteen silver pieces.”

“One gold, three silvers.”

“Fifteen.”

“One gold, four silvers. And five, no, six copper pieces! Final offer, you’re not getting a better deal than that.”

The mare raised an eyebrow. “Fift—“

“Eight coppers!”

The mare sighed and slammed her face into her hooves. “Alright, fine, the barn space is yours for fourteen silver pieces and nine coppers. Take it or leave, your choice.”

“Ho ho, excellent.” Clockworks smiled triumphantly. “I knew we’d see reason eventually.” He reached into his pack, and after a bit of rummaging, he frowned. “Hm, odd. Must have left my coin purse in the cart or something. No, wait, I left it with Pendula.” He groaned and, with a grimace, he turned to Rarity. “Hate to ask of this, but you mind taking care of this this time? Don’t worry, we’ll work something out later, let’s just deal with this first.”

As long as it’s not another clock Rarity thought to herself with a roll of her eyes. She pulled out her wallet and looked into her assortment of coins. Only now did her unfamiliarity to Spiketopia’s foreign new currency dawn upon her. The golden coins had some similarities to the bits of Equestria, them being both gold and round, but the silver and copper ones were completely novel. They clearly all had some value, if she could make any assumptions based on Clockworks’ bargaining attempt, and if Rarity had to hazard a guess, she’d say that the value was in accordance to the value of the coin’s metal, with the gold pieces being the most valuable, followed by the silver, then the copper.

But then, how many coppers was equivalent to a silver? To a gold? Were the exchange rates proportional or did they vary between the kinds of coins? “Well?” Clockworks said suddenly, completely ignorant of Rarity’s struggle as he peered over her shoulder. “What’s the problem? I know you’ve got enough on you. Look, I told you, I’ll pay you back, so don’t worry about that.”

“Right, right. Just, ah.” Rarity removed two gold coins and set them before the mare. “Will this be enough?”

“Plenty,” the mare answered, sliding the coins to her side. “You want your change now, or would you rather use it to start paying for your rooms?“

Rarity thought for a moment, then asked, “Is there enough to pay for a warm meal for four ponies?”

“Yeah, sure.” The mare pushed the lock toward her and Clockworks and started making her way back around to them. “Why don’t one of you find an empty table and place an order while I take the other to the barn and get that cart of yours all settled in? We can discuss rooms after, they’re not going anywhere.”

“Hmph.” Clockworks swept up the padlock. “Fine by me. Let’s go.”

“There are more tables in the back, that way,” the inn owner said, pointing to the hallway at the side. “It’s a little louder in the tavern area, but service‘ll be faster, it being closer to the kitchen and all.”

Rarity nodded, and as she started toward that direction, Clockworks and the inn owner made there way past the merry patrons that shouted and waved at the mare as she walked by, to the inn’s entrance. There were a couple of tables to greet her in the hall, and Rarity had to press herself against the wall to make room for a waitress carrying a full platter, but eventually she managed to get through the hall and step into the cacophony that was a good old fashioned tavern.