The Trials of Shmarity: an Ogres and Oubliettes Story

by TheMessenger

18. City of Danger

18. City of Danger

By the time Hoshire’s mayor had come to his senses and returned to the realm of the conscious, the festival was ready to begin once again. The mess had been cleared away, the decorations were fixed and replaced, and the merry mood from earlier was restored.

Well, more or less restored. The confirmed presence of the princess whom many considered lost lending her assistance had certainly generated some additional buzz amongst the townsfolk, as well as the standard anxiety that came with having to entertain such an esteemed guest. There had been some earlier excitement going around when Shim had revealed that Princess Shmarity would be making an appearance, especially from Shim’s followers, but that was nothing compared to the feeling of actually having Her Highness next to you, speaking to you, and getting you help when you forget to breathe.

The festivities had soon begun in proper after Burgo Masters gave one final speech, which eventually had to be cut off as it ran long, but instead of running through the street and checking out what all the different booths had in store with the rest of the town, he and Rarity were pulled inside by the old mare and the rest of her colleagues to discuss certain matters. Burgo groused the entire way, but Rarity didn’t mind the break from having to tell ponies they didn’t have to bow or stand at attention in her presence. It was too late to take back what she had said, but a good large part of Rarity wondered if what she had done had been the right thing to do. She doubted Applejack would have approved the misappropriation of another pony’s identity, and yet, nothing Rarity had revealed felt, at least to her, like a lie.

What had the Queen of Fey said about this predicament? Rarity tried to recall their conversation, but it was like trying to remember the details of a dream that had long since faded. Her hoof found itself wrapped around her pendant as she followed those well dressed ponies and tried to tune out Burgo’s gripes and the old mare’s responding chides.

”In that world, the world you’ll wake up to, you are Princess Shmarity, princess of Spiketopia.

“Just think of it as playing a role in a stage production.

“You might even be able to use that identity to your advantage.”

For now, if it was what she had to do to saving Spike and Discord, she’d play the role of Princess Shmarity. It was a task Rarity found surprisingly simple as, per the old mare’s request, she described to her audience the destruction of the princess’s home and her capture once they had all gathered within a private room and took their seats at a round table. Again, her mouth seemed to move all on it’s own as she told of how a city the size and style of Canterlot shook from a sudden quake that heralded the appearance of skeletal constructs and vile beasts on the palace grounds while hordes of barbaric marauders burned through the city. She told of the princess’s separation from the rest of her family, her futile attempts to evacuate the burning castle, the approach of the Squid Wizard striking down entire legions of guards and knights in shining armor with streaks of lightning, balls of flame, and noxious clouds, and the following imprisonment and isolation in that dark tower Rarity had initially found herself. Her audience had clung to every word and detail as Rarity pulled from the recollection of an experience she, Rarity, had not gone through and yet could describe so vividly.

When it came to explaining how she got away, however, Rarity kept her description more vague. They didn’t need to know of how the Squid Wizard gloated as they tossed Spike and Discord at her feet, not after she made that speech about hope in order to raise the town’s spirits, and so Rarity only mentioned that she saw a dragon with a beard and an odd snake thing with long, blond locks of hair before she was magically whisked away.

“Was there a warrior in black with a large sword with them?” the mare with the red ribbons had asked.

Rarity thought for a moment. “Well, there were quite a few guards wearing black armor there.“

“But were any of them fighting on the side of the heroes? Or rather, did you see a stallion in black armor among the heroes?”

“No. It was just those two.”

The faces of the ponies before her had turned to expressions of worry, but nopony offered to elaborate, and as she had little desire to draw any further scrutiny to her story, Rarity decided not to pursue the issue. Instead, she chose to divulge her current plan of finding help in the city of Baldursgait before heading south where the key to the Squid Wizard’s defeat was supposedly held. Again, Rarity kept a few things to herself, namely the source of her plan as she doubted anypony here would’ve reacted favorably if she told them that the idea to go south came from a mysterious being declaring themselves ruler over creatures only referenced in fairytale who had appeared to her in a dream.

The mention of Baldursgait had roused a number of different reactions, from approving nods to bemusedly raised eyebrows to sour looks and winces. The reputation of Baldursgait was well known, with Horshire having hosted a few adventurers from there in the past, and a couple ponies here had actually visited the port city. They had little advice on the matter, however, mostly just iterations on taking care when venturing the streets alone and being careful about who to trust, and there was almost no information at all regarding the southern lands that Rarity could glean from the ponies here. Nopony at the table had even heard of the term ‘necromancy’ or the name ‘Valmeyjar’ before, much less could explain why either would be so important.

Information hadn’t been the only thing Horshire was lacking in. Really, much to the embarrassment of the ponies that were before her, all the town could offer Rarity were a few days worth of travel rations, some discounted supplies, and a complimentary room at the inn. They couldn’t even spare her an armed escort to protect her the rest of the way; the best they could do was provide a couple of guards that would only be able to get her to the next populated settlement just a day away.

That had been fine with Rarity, who hadn’t expected much more than that anyways.
She left the room shortly after, leaving the town’s leadership to discuss the matters of running the town privately as her business with the town’s leaders had concluded, and spent the rest of the day trying to enjoy the ongoing festival which was, in all honesty, a very basic affair by Equestria’s standards.

Rarity took the next day to take inventory and restock, replacing the rations she and Burgo had gone through and retrieving her knife. She also took the opportunity to bathe and do a bit of laundry. Then it was time for her to go. Despite requesting no fanfare and getting up early to leave first thing in the morning, much of the town had gathered to see her off, and with a militia pony on either side of her and the cheers and waves of the townsfolk still echoing at her rear, Rarity had finally left Horshire.

It was nice to finally to be back on road, Rarity thought to herself, at least for the first couple of hours before her legs started to hurt and dust got into her eyes, tail, and mane. As keen as she was to continue her journey and complete her quest, Rarity couldn’t help but wonder if she had been too hasty. Perhaps she could have spared another extra day or two in Horshire, and the town was certainly more than eager to house her, but responsibility and more than a little bit of guilt won out in the end.

After all, it would have been fairly difficult to relax when the fate of her friends and the memory of dear Spike and Discord’s motionless forms still weighed so heavily on her back.

Her convoy consisted of two earth ponies, a young stallion only a few years older than her sister by the name of Even Trot whose gray coat matched the dreary skies above and an older mare with streaks of silver running through her dark green mane called Pez. Both had their protective barding hidden underneath a brown cloak similar to Rarity’s, and strapped to their backs were a set of saddlebags and a spear, and Pez carried an additional dagger at her side. Neither had been very talkative or volunteered much about themselves at first out of either awed shyness from the younger or surprising professionalism from the older, but after some small talk and a bit of prodding during an impromptu picnic, Rarity learned that Even Trot was the nephew of Innskeeper the innkeeper and that Pez had once an adventurer when she was younger and had long since retired to Horshire to help run her cousins run their store.

They had arrived at the walls of Candelkeep late that afternoon. To Rarity’s astonishment, the settlement was more of a fort than your typical town or village. She had seen crumbling, chest high stone walls and rotten remains of fences in the abandoned ruins on the way here but nothing like the circle of log stakes sticking out of the ground. There was even a large gate protecting the entrance along with several ponies in iron chain mail who stopped them as they approached.

Rarity, recognizing how much trouble her appearance could potentially cause, made sure her features were obscured by the hood of her cloak, but the guards seemed far more interested in the pair of openly armed ponies than they were in another refugee, especially after learning that the two were from Horshire. Based on what Rarity could gather from the sentries’s comments and surprise, the two towns had lost contact a while ago, and Horshire was thought to have been destroyed.

When asked for a reason for their visit, Pez did the talking as she explained they were simply bringing a traveler fleeing from the east here per their mayor’s instructions. A few additional questions soon followed, after which a messenger was sent inside. The runner returned some minutes later with a reply, and Rarity, Even Trot, and Pez were allowed into the fortress with the suggestion that the Horshire inhabitants should speak with the head of the monastery before returning home.

As they made a path through the settlement, looking for a place to stay the night, Pez made a passing observation that the place felt deserted, and while Rarity considered that assessment a bit of an exaggeration, seeing as they had nearly bumped into a few ponies on their way, she did note that there weren’t as many ponies here as one might have expected from such a large place. There was a noticeable amount of empty space to be found, and several of the structures they passed felt unused and uninhabited. Horshire felt more populated, more alive.

Thankfully, the inn was one of the buildings still operating, though much like the one in Horshire, it had been largely converted into a tavern. Once their rooms were secured, Pez went off to see what the leader of Candelkeep had to say while Even Trot stayed behind with Rarity who was in no hurry to meet the head of another clerical order after her brush with Mother Shim. Instead, the two spent the evening seeing if Rarity could find anything regard the family of clock merchants she had been traveling with. Pendula had mentioned that they were thinking of settling down in Candelkeep, and though Rarity wasn’t certain she wanted to see them again after they had just left her behind without so much as a goodbye and also having to explain to Clockworks that she had lost that cuckoo clock he had gifted her would’ve been pretty awkward, it would have been nice to know that they were safe.

As it turned out, they hadn’t stayed long. According to the owner of the inn, Clockworks had taken his family and left about a week ago after learning that Candelkeep had no place for a clock store. Pez returned a little while after with a letter for Burgo Masters, and after a meal of porridge and cheap watered down apple juice, the three decided to turn in early. According to Pez who had been to Candelkeep during her adventuring days, there was little to see or do here anyways unless you were really into books, which might have tempted Twilight Sparkle into taking a tour around the fort, but Rarity was tired and more concerned with getting to her final destination in a timely manner.

Morning came, and after some farewells and wishes of luck, they went their separate ways, with Rarity continuing down the road toward Baldursgait and Pez and Even Trot going back home. It didn’t take long before a sense of isolation hit Rarity as she traveled down the old abandoned trade route by herself. For the first time in a long time, she was journeying alone, and at that realization, her steps slowed. They had only said goodbye to each other less than an hour ago and were barely acquainted, and yet Rarity was already missing the presence of Pez and Even Trot. She was even beginning to feel nostalgic towards Clockworks and Minutiae’s constant requests for updates and would’ve gladly dealt with Huntress’s stoic aloofness if it meant having the dour mare’s company.

And of course, Rarity’s thoughts eventually turned to her friends from Ponyville and to however since they had gotten together as a group, she had rarely taken a trip without at least one of them with her and never a trip of this magnitude or importance.

“Keep it together, Rarity,” she said to herself, gently tapping against her cheeks. “Concentrate. Focus.” It wasn’t the healthiest way to cope with her loneliness, talking to herself, but it served as a proper distraction as she pushed herself onward.

As her journey continued, Rarity eventually caught the scent of sea water that slowly grew stronger. The whispers of the winds now carried the noisy cries of gulls. To the right of her, the grasslands sharply dropped off into a wrinkling mass of murky blue that extend beyond what her eyes could see, and at the end of the day, by the light of the setting sun, Rarity could just barely make out the mighty stone walls of what she presumed to be Baldursgait peeking over the horizon ahead of her.

By Rarity’s estimates, there was still at least an hour of travel between her and the city, which exceeded what sunlight was left in this day. She had dallied for too long. Not wanting to brave the road in the dangerous dark, she stopped for the night at a farming village she had come across. It was a small place, smaller than even Elder Woods’s village and consisting of only a few cottages and farmhouses. Rarity had spotted a number of such settlements dotting the countryside along the way since leaving Candelkeep, their number growing as she got closer to Baldursgait, but as she had no real reason to visit them until now, they went largely ignored.

Rarity was initially met with suspicion, but the promise of coin swayed one of the farmers into letting her sleep in his barn. It wasn’t the most comfortable or the most dignified or the cleanest place Rarity could think of, but as the village was too small to house an inn or anything of the kind, it was the best she could get outside of convincing the farmer to give up his own bed, and with the stalllion’s wife watching her closely, Rarity didn’t dare try her more persuasive tactics to tease out a better deal.

Neither the smell of hay nor the gossip of the cows in the neighboring stall bothered her too much, not when her journey’s end was so close. It was almost over, Rarity told herself, resting her head against a bundle of straw and trying to get some sleep. Soon, as early as tomorrow morning, she would be in Baldursgait.

*

The path leading to the city’s gate was difficult to miss. If one failed to notice the sudden transition in the quality of the road’s stonework, then they could simply follow the rows of burnt out torches flanking the way to the massive stone ramparts. If one failed to see the tall ashy poles or, somehow, the imposing walls with red and blue banners streaming down from the battlements, then surely the lengthy line of individuals leading up to the city and the constant screams for order from the guards at the entrance would have tipped them off.

The line to Baldursgait was long, and it moved at the pace of an injured snail, but with a few honeyed words and some batting of her eyelashes, Rarity made some quick and early headway, skipping the initial few positions at the queue’s start. Many whom she passed were farm ponies in ragged sackcloths, and some pulled along carts of fresh produce or sacks of grain, but Rarity also saw several in protective gear of varying quality and material, ranging from thick standard barding to links of metal chains to even pieces of steel plate. Their armaments were just as diverse, with some carrying simple spears over their shoulders while others had clubs or bows strung across their backs. Blades of just about every size could be found, from daggers like the one Huntress had given Rarity to swords so long that their tips dragged against the ground, and the unusually large, scruffy pony ahead of Rarity even had an equally large dual headed axe nestled between the bags on their back.

Her nose wrinkled at the stench coming from those bags. Whatever was in them was starting to soak through and attract flies, and the smell only got worse as time passed and the sun rose higher and higher in the sky. By the time the entrance came into her view, it was approaching noon, with the sun reaching its highest point, and Rarity was gagging.

“Next!” shouted the guard, and the large pony in front of her stepped forward. “Alrighty big guy, why are you here?”

“Yak.”

“Didn’t ask for your race, but yes, I can see that,” the guard grumbled as his colleague snickered.

“Yak.” The creature turned to rummaging through their luggage, giving Rarity a glimpse of their face and horns. She could now clearly see that they were indeed a yak, which would explain the excessive size and hair. “Yak,” they said again as they pulled out a slip of parchment and gave it to the guards.

“Part of the adventurers’ league, eh? Back from a quest then, I take?”

The yak nodded and pointed to the oozing sacks they were carrying. “Yak.”

“Right,” Rarity heard one of the guards snort. “Well then, yak, go ahead. Keep out of trouble.”

“Yak,” the yak said with another nod before they continued into the walled city. Once the yak had left their view, the three guards at the entrance turned to Rarity who now stood at the very front of the line. There were four additional sentries that could be spotted standing under the archway that led into the city, two standing on each side, and at the very end Rarity could see the glint of a couple of spearheads.

At minimum, a total of nine guards were at the entrance, and that wasn’t counting all the ones positioned on the walls. Rarity had to wonder, was this level of security normal for Baldursgait or was it in preparation for things to come?

“Alright, next in line. Come on, we haven’t all day.”

Rarity approached the guards. Their armor reminded her of the attire of the Canterlot guards, with brass plates protecting their front and midsection and shoulders and a helmet with a plume over their head. Additional metal plates were strapped over their shins and haunches but left the knee uncovered and unhindered. All three of the guards carried pole arms, with the sole pegasus of the trio tucking hers beneath a wing, and had a dagger attached to their side. One of them also had a longer blade sheathed beside his dagger. The three would have been an impressive sight had they bothered to clean the metal of their armor and didn’t look so bored out of their minds.

“So what do we have here?” the guard with the sword barked as he and his partnered looked over Rarity from the top of her hooded head to the bottom of her hooves. “Purpose?”

“Just, visiting.”

Rarity’s answer caused the guard’s brow to raise. “Visiting, eh? Got relatives here? Friends?”

“I’m here to see the adventurers’ league,” she said, not seeing any harm in divulging that information.

“That right?” the guard said while the one of his colleagues, his fellow stallion and earth pony, let out a snort. “Looking to join or something?”

“Or something, yes.”

“Eh, alright then. I’m guessing you haven’t any papers, so see what’s in those.” The guard gestured to the saddlebags on Rarity’s back with his spear. “Come on, don’t waste our time,” he added when Rarity hesitated. “You want in? Then don’t give us trouble.”

Rarity wanted to argue and rebuke these ruffians over their lack in manners, but she was also very much aware of her current, precarious position. These ponies had complete control over whether she got into the city or not, and so Rarity swallowed her pride and complied, removing her bags and surrendering them to the guards. As the two earth ponies searched through the bags, the pegasus approached her, and without any warning, she ran her hooves along Rarity’s body.

“Stop squirming,” the armored mare ordered as she reached into Rarity’s cloak and removed the two daggers hidden within and the silver pendant around Rarity’s neck. Elder Woods’s obsidian blade drew a funny look, but the guard returned everything to Rarity swiftly and without incident once she had finished her examination.

“Well what do we have here?” the guard with the sword exclaimed, holding up Rarity’s coin purse. “Oh ho, a bit on the heavy side.”

Rarity could hear the ponies behind her stir and sigh as they all watched the guard shake open the purse. A number of gold, copper, and silver coins tumbled out into his outstretched hoof, and his grin grew.

“That ought to cover the entry fee,” he declared with a chuckle as he put the lightened purse back into the saddlebags. His sneering partner tossed them back to Rarity, and they landed roughly in the dirt before her. “Alright, you’re good to go. And welcome to Baldursgait.”

Having done a quick inventory review, it didn’t appear that they had taken anything else, but Rarity refused to feel grateful over that small fortune. She shot the obnoxious stallion a dirty look as she passed him by, but it was the only thing she dared do with so many of his allies watching. As tempted as she was to embarrass the lout in front of all his colleagues, Rarity didn’t want her first experience with Baldursgait to be within the city’s dungeon or to be kicked out before even stepping a foot within the city’s walls. Part of her wanted to tear off her hood and expose her supposed identity just to see how they would all react, but Huntress’s warnings against such recklessness and of the possible dangers Baldursgait posed to Princess Shmarity kept her in check.

The guards under the archway watched Rarity as she walked by them. “Another refugee,” one muttered with a sigh as she passed them. “Poor fools still flooding in.”

“Darn streets are already packed as is,” another mumbled. Rarity ignored them as she continued and entered Baldursgait on the archway’s other end.

Her first expression of the city was that it was crowded. Buildings were packed together with very little space between them. The streets were jammed with bodies and wagons that slowed traffic to a crawl, and the various street merchants and beggars in the way weren’t helping matters. The sounds of arguments and loud grumblings polluted the air along with dark smoke and the foul mix of sewage malodor and salty sea breeze. Venders shouted at potential customers from their stalls, peddling their wares while ponies wearing rags knelt in the dirt with their hooves outstretched as they cried out mournfully for any spare coin, all adding to the noisy din.

Something took hold of Rarity’s cloak. She pulled back and spun around to discover that she had been stopped by an elderly beggar. The old mare’s gray mane was stiff and dry like straw, and one of her eyes appeared glassy and sightless. The crooked smile she wore as she held a hoof up to Rarity was toothless.

Pity quickly replaced her initial surprise and horror. Rarity started to reach for her purse, figuring that even after that guard’s portion, she could afford to part with a couple coins, but something knocked hard against her rear, causing her stumble forward and gasp out.

“Out of the way!” growled the pony dragging the cart that had bumped into her. “Move!”

“Excuse me?” Rarity exclaimed, her eyes narrowing as she turned. Her grip over her temper began to loosen. “You’re the one who bumped into me, and instead of apologizing like a civilized pony, you get cross with me?”

“Hey, lady!” came a shout from behind them. “Quit blocking the way! Hurry up already!”

Other joined in, demanding Rarity and the one with the cart to move with increasingly rude jeers and taunts. The old beggar was already gone at that point, so with a huff and her face burning, Rarity continued on her way, following the crowd further into the city until she became just another small part of it. Eventually, the narrow street they slowly traveled down opened into a plaza, and the crowd broke apart as those that formed it went in their own separate directions.

Rarity stopped in front of a dried out, chipped fountain covered in carved initials and graffiti that stood in the center of the plaza. As she watched the others go and make their way down one of the many branching paths, she came to realize just how woefully unprepared she was. Here she was in a city completely new to her, like a little country filly in Canterlot or Manehattan for her very first time, and she hadn’t even considered acquiring a map of the darn place beforehand. Sweet sun and moon, Candelkeep might have even had a book on Baldursgait that she could have used to avoid the unpleasantness at the entrance had she bothered to do the research.

Rarity flattened her face against the bases of her hooves and released a long, muffled, frustrated groan that slowly tapered off into a sigh. Well, what was done was done, and both her time and energy would be better spent figuring out what to do now than kicking herself over this silly lack of foresight. Rarity took a breath and calmed down, and as she brushed her mane out of her face, she returned to the cool and collected mare of grace she knew she was, the kind of mare who’d be able to come up with a well thought-out plan.

Rarity’s first step? Reviewing her purpose for being here in Baldursgait, that being to find help at this adventurers’ league thing, which she understood to be some sort of mercenary organization. Rarity squirmed at the idea of having to hiring a bunch of brutes willing to hurt and harm for money, and that was if she even had enough coin to afford them, but the adventurers’ league might also be her best bet at finding somepony sympathetic to her, or rather to Princess Shmarity’s plight. If there were any survivors from the old royal army, it made sense that some of them would have joined something like the adventurers’ league as a way to make a living off of their old skills after their crushing defeat at the tentacles of the Squid Wizard and his forces. Perhaps Rarity could find a few that still felt some loyalty toward Spiketopia’s princess.

After that, well, she’d have a much easier time figuring out what to do next once she had some extra heads around her with which to brainstorm. Hopefully, her future companions, with all of their potential experience, would be more knowledgeable of the southern lands than she and have a way to get there, and even if they personally didn’t have that kind of information, they’d probably know somepony who knew somepony who did. Baldursgait was a big city, and Rarity was well versed in just how deep connections could run in such a place.

Of course, Rarity would need to find this adventurers’ league first. A map really would have come in handy, but where could she get one now? Rarity‘s first thought was a tourist booth, but she hadn’t seen anything like that at the entrance and doubted that a place as rough as Baldursgait would even have such a thing. She supposed she could trying asking for directions, but based on how she had been treated at the gate, Rarity didn’t think she’d get much help from any of the patrolling guards, at least not without paying a hefty fee. Asking one of the locals instead might be a cheaper option, but there was no guarantee that they’d know how to get to the adventurers’ league.

Rarity looked around. The plaza, she noted, served as an intersection for a number of streets, with the fountain standing in the very middle. Signs could be found near the opening of each street, either hanging from a nearby building or attached to a pole. Perhaps once upon a time those signs served as indicators for what streets was what and which street led to where, but they had long since been rendered illegible, the wood having rotted away and nopony bothering to rewrite the faded letters.

Most of the ponies she saw walking around were busy going down one way or another, save for a few beggars lying in the road. After a bit of pony watching, as she was considering whether and whom to stop and question, Rarity noticed a pattern. Of the multiple paths that led further into the city, two appeared to have the most traffic going down them. Of the two, one seemed to be used universally, with farmers in poorly stitched work clothes pulling carts along side armed warriors in armor and cloaked individuals with bows and quivers on their backs making their way past mares in dresses and stallions in suit vests, while the other path appeared more predominantly used by those openly carrying their weapons around.

Rarity approached a stallion around her age who had just entered the plaza from the second way. Like most going to and from this path, he had a weapon, a short sword strapped to his side that hung just below his saddlebags.

“Excuse me, sir?” she said, getting the stallion’s attention. “Is this the direction to the adventurers’ league?”

“Huh?” The stallion blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting to be addressed. “Oh, uh, yeah.” He gave Rarity a quick glance and frowned. “You, uh, new around here?”

“Just arrived, actually,” Rarity answered with a smile and a giggle. “It’s my first time in Baldursgait, and it’s a rather large place.”

“Oh.” The stallion rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. You don’t want to get lost around here. Had a couple of close calls myself during my first week.” He gave a small chuckle. “But yeah, if you just follow this street you’ll find the adventurers’ league headquarters. It’s this small building on the edge of this square with a bunch of billboards in front of it. It can be hard to find if you don’t know what you’re looking for, but, I mean, now you know.”

“Yes, and thank you,” Rarity said, and with another smile, she started toward the street she had been directed to as the helpful stallion continued on his own way. For a time, Rarity kept her focus on the road ahead of her, doing her best to avoid bumping into one of the many tough looking pedestrians and their violent accessories or straying onto a branching path that led to who knew where or tripping over a loose brick or a hole in the pavement. As she made her way through Baldursgait, however, Rarity could feel her curious eyes wander to the surrounding buildings and the city’s inhabitants, absorbing in the sights.

Many of the structures looking over the path were windowless, and those that had windows had them blocked by bars and cloth coverings, hiding the inside contents from outside observers. Much of the walls were vandalized with rude etchings and shapes, similar to how the fountain had been, and there was a layer of grime over the stone surfaces that gave some sections a dark green color. The roofs of these buildings were flat, and Rarity saw that there were a few ponies on them looking down at the passing crowd, mostly young children but also a few in white robes with their faces hidden under their hoods.

Those she shared the street with were far more varied and far more interesting, with manes, tails, and coats of all colors and shades populating the road. Earth ponies were the most common, but a number of horns and feathered wings could be spotted in the crowd as well. There were ponies here of all shapes and sizes, from the large, the bulky, and those with a muscular definition vast enough for it’s own dictionary and maybe even drive a certain white pegasus stallion from Ponyville envious to the scrawny, the wiry, and those that Rarity mistook as foals until she noticed their lengthy facial hair and the lines on their faces. Speaking of age, Rarity saw ponies that looked old enough to be her grandmother or grandfather strutting as if they were half that age past young mares and stallions Rarity’s age and even younger, and then there was everything in between the two extremes.

As Rarity had observed earlier, just about everypony here was armed: daggers, short swords, long swords, blades so broad and big Rarity couldn’t imagine how anypony could swing them without magical means, thin rapiers, lances, spears, pole axes, single headed and double headed battle axes, bows of various lengths, mechanized crossbows, bandoleers of throwing darts, clubs, flails, and a whole host of other martial tools that Rarity didn’t recognize and could only describe as being sharp and pointy. Some were sheathed or covered in some fashion while others hung out in the open, their metal bits gleaming in the sunlight. The quality of the weapons varied pony to pony, from spears and the like with their wood warping and splintering and swords with visible rust and chips in their edges to pole arms with polished shafts and blades that looked, as far as Rarity could tell with her limited expertise, just recently forged. Some were covered in dust while others had clearly been cleaned recently and well maintained. One particular unicorn had his sword in a jewel encrusted scabbard that was so shiny it hurt to look, and while excessive and a waste of some perfectly good gems, it did go well with the stallion’s bright red cape, polished and spotless breastplate complete with an engraved coat of arms, waxed and curled mustache, and the air of pompousness he carried himself with as he walked with his nose pointed up to the clouds above.

Many kept their Cutie Marks hidden, their flanks covered by armor or by the hem of theirs cloaks, but there were some, usually the ones with the fancier looking equipment, that seemed to flaunt the symbol on their flanks. The meaning for some of the marks were obvious, like the mare with spear on her back having the mark of a spear, but there were also several that were too vague to interpret just by sight alone, like the marks of falcon wings and wolf heads and a crown of stars. Some Cutie Marks didn’t exactly seem to fit with the pony they were destined to, like for instance that rolling pin which one would’ve expected on the flanks of a baker and not on the scarred up mercenary Rarity saw it on. Then again, a Cutie Mark only describes one’s talents and not necessarily their profession, though Rarity had to wonder about the circumstances that drove this particular pony with all his culinary potential into a life of scars and wounds.

And then there were all those that never would receive Cutie Marks. As she got further into Baldursgait, Rarity began to notice an increase in the diversity of the species around her. Griffons shared the skies with pegasi and the occasional hippogriff while yaks like the one Rarity had seen early walked along side floppy eared donkeys and hearty horned oxen. Rarity even spotted a couple of stags with decorated antlers and a young dragon with reddish scales and a mask shaped like an equine skull in the crowd, and as she followed the street into a large square, hopefully the square that young stallion had mentioned in his directions, Rarity was greeted with the scene of a trio of young bipedal felines being chased by an elder minotaur while a small group of nearby parrot folk watched and laughed.

“Dang runts! I’ll turn you into coats!”

“Cheap supplies here. Don’t get ripped off at the market. Save some coin and some time.”

“You’ve got any healer’s kits? Any unused?”

“Weapons, get your weapons! Perfect for any occasion. Dungeons. Exterminations. Weddings.”

“Look, you know I’m good for it. Give me a couple days.”

“Fried fish for sale!”

“What are you trying to do, rob me? Knock it down a couple of coppers.”

“Heard about Grim. Darn shame.”

“Who’s hungry? Got fresh corn cakes, hot off the griddle.”

Exclamations of stall keepers as they tried to entice potential customers and bits and pieces of conversations between creatures filled the air that carried the scent of unwashed bodies, baked and fried foods, and the sea. Out in the distance stood a harbor and the endless stretch of blue. Seagulls circled above, screaming as they dived and stole scraps off the ground. With so many sights and sounds and smells, Rarity was starting to feel a little overwhelmed. She tried to refocus herself, shaking her head as she forced her wandering eyes straight ahead in search of a building with billboards in front of it.

The crowded environment did not help matters. Even if Rarity didn’t have to deal with how distracting all of the sights and sounds were, the crush of bodies, many of which were larger than her, blocked much of her vision, and it was incredibly difficult to stay perceptive when she was constantly being jostled around without so much of a pardon. Rarity wasn’t sure which was worse, being shoved down to the dirty ground by a bull rushing by or walking right into a group of kittens and knocking one poor dear off his two little back paws and scattering the rest. Neither instance presented an opportunity for an adequate apology, the bullish bovine hurrying off without even glancing at her and the little cat scurrying after his friends on all fours as Rarity extended a hoof to help him up, and she left both scenes with her face flushed.

To make things worse, Rarity’s stomach was beginning to grumble, and her growing hunger added to her list of distractions. It was early afternoon at this point, and all Rarity had eaten today were some mouthfuls of dried fruit and nuts from her own supplies, the farmers she had gotten boarding from not having included breakfast in their services. The aroma wafting from the food stands caused her mouth to water and her stomach to growl louder to the point that Rarity worried that others could hear it over all the noise.

She stopped in front of the cleanest stall she could see, which consisted of pancakes being flipped on a greasy tabletop griddle before a couple of waiting customers. The mare running the stand gave Rarity a toothy grin as she approached.

“And what’ll it be for you?” she said, brushing her hooves on the stained apron she wore. “It’s real flour, you know. Three coppers for a plain one, five if you want one with cheese, and there’s a discount if you get more than five.”

Rarity looked down at the pancakes currently sizzling away for those ahead of her. Those delectable brown surfaces were ruined by black smudges of residue grease, and they were disappointingly small. One would need far more than five of those flat little cakes to come close to having a decent meal, and Rarity, despite not being complete sure of the worth behind this world’s currency or its economic standards, had a strong intuition that the prices presented were severely inflated.

Her stomach, however, did not care and protested loudly at her hesitation. The rebellious organ wouldn’t even compromise over the promise of Rarity’s leftover travel rations, not while in the presence of something hot and fresh. She sighed and tried to ignore the chuckles coming from the other customers. “Seven plain ones, please.”

“Right away. Seven plain will cost you, uh.” The mare took a moment to do some calculations, her features twisting in concentration. “Twenty? Yeah, twenty coppers for seven.”

Twenty copper coins for pancakes. The equivalent of two silvers, according to Princess Shmarity’s knowledge. Rarity frowned. “Surely that’s can’t be with the discount included. Or is a single copper coin truly the best you can do?”

The mare snorted and shrugged. “Listen lady, if you don’t like my prices, you can find some place else. Now figure it out ‘cause I can’t have you holding up my business.”

She gestured Rarity to the pegasus stallion and the griffon waiting behind her. Seeing that the stand owner was in no mood to discuss the price further, and neither was she for that matter, Rarity let out another sigh. She reached over to her saddlebags, undid the strap, and reached inside.

Rarity brushed past her supplies, pushing aside the tinderbox, her knife, and the sewing kit amongst other miscellaneous items before reaching the bottom of her bag. Confused, Rarity pulled her hoof back and tried again, and then she tried the other side. In there she felt and found the first aid kit, the lodestone, Elder Woods’s map, and the bag’s bottom once more.

But there was no coin purse.