The Trials of Shmarity: an Ogres and Oubliettes Story

by TheMessenger

25. The Only Way To Be Sure

25. The Only Way To Be Sure

Spontaneous combustion was never something Rarity really thought about, but with how red Gustford’s face was and how much his neck seemed to bulge and how wide his eyes were to the point of them escaping their sockets, Rarity couldn’t help but feel some concerned over the possibility of the griffon right before her suddenly exploding. With his broadsword out and ready, the former knight had found her in the now deserted bathhouse soaking alone with a cloak stuffed to the brim with diamonds and valuable gemstones beside her head at the edge of the pool. Unconscious guards and abandoned articles of clothing and towels were strewn all about the white limestone floors along with the shattered remains of the alicorn statues.

It took Rarity some time to explain all that had happened, starting from the yak’s interruption of her massage and his forceful recruitment of her to their encounter with the cultists below and the discovery of their treasure to finally what she could only assume was her barbaric acquaintance’s swift and violent exit as Rarity herself was only there in time to see the aftermath. It took Rarity even longer to get Gustford to stop his excessive apologizing for leaving her alone and in danger like this and to assure him that she hadn’t experienced any bodily harm outside of the stains in her coat that she was currently trying to get out. She hadn’t completely convinced the griffon, however, who for the next couple of days refused to let her leave his sight.

That included taking Rarity with him to where the rest of the treasure was and forcing her to wade through the unsanitary waters once more. Once again, Rarity’s efforts to clean herself had been in vain as a new layer of grime and gunk replaced the muck she had just washed off, but seeing as Gustford was stressed enough already, she kept her complaints to a minimum. And if it meant being able to carry out more of the spoils, well, she supposed she could endure a third bath in a day.

Now they couldn’t take the entire hoard with them, there was just simply too much for two creatures of their size to move, so they picked out and filled Gustford’s bags with the best of the bunch. When the two had finally left the bathhouse, they had collected, by Gustford’s most conservative estimate, well and far more than enough to buy passage on Brine Drinker’s vessel. Any plans they might have had of gathering more of the treasure later on were thwart by the presence of the city authorities swarming the establishment the following morning, which wasn’t the hugest setback considering their initial haul. Once Gustford had its value converted to gold, after Rarity finished browbeating the jeweler for trying to downplay the quality of the gems she herself had personally picked out, and settled payment with the captain of the Merry Landing, there was enough leftover for a grand tour of some of Baldursgait’s more luxurious hotels and restaurants.

Rarity didn’t go that far. She settled instead on spending the remainder of her time in Baldursgait at a perfectly adequate inn in the middle city where she enjoyed a decently sized room, a soft bed with clean sheets, and a door with a secure lock. She had also gotten her cloak professionally washed and maintained, her travels having done quite a number on its seams, and had updated her wardrobe with a simple, frill-less dress perfect for casual strolls through the streets and a small, brimmed bonnet that completed the outfit. Beyond that and a few trips to the local cafes for a decent soup or salad and an occasional baked good, Rarity left the money in Gustford’s capable claws to deal with any additional expenses and preparations the more experienced griffon thought necessary. At his request and really more for his own comfort and state of mind than Rarity’s actual safety, she accompanied Gustford as he shopped for supplies, which included:

Some extra preserved travel rations, new saddlebags made of tougher material and with larger pouches, additional water canteens, a fully stocked first aid kit to replaced her spent medical supplies including fresh bandages, some antidotes for common poisons, several vials of that red healing potion Rarity was already familiar with, and a tiny glass jar that contained only a few drops of aloe ointment to be reserved for emergencies at Gustford’s insistence, a gaudy bronze anklet that the griffon would not let Rarity refuse, claiming with a completely straight face that it had magical protective properties, and which took an entire hour of fitting before it came close to feeling comfortable, a small hair brush, some perfume at Rarity’s request as she doubted Brine Drinker’s ship was equipped with a shower and three weeks was an awfully long time to go without bathing, an additional change of simple clothes, and a brand new dagger similar to the one Gustford had lent her, with a traditional cross guard separating the straight, double edged blade from the hilt and a sheath.

It was certainly a well made weapon, but a blade was only as good as its wielder. In the short time they had left before the date of departure, Gustford taught Rarity what he could. He fixed her stance and her grip, demonstrated the most efficient ways to stab and slash without expending excessive stamina, pointed out the most common vulnerable spots to aim for and the areas to avoid, and had her practice the two most important maneuvers for her to know until her forelegs shook at the end of the day from exhaustion, those maneuvers being parrying and just holding the weapon properly. The griffon’s tips and tricks didn’t all translate smoothly from his claws to her hooves, but eventually Rarity got to the point where she could confidently swing her blade a couple of times without dropping it in a wild panic.

Gustford had been of two minds regarding his brief tutorage. On the one claw, his reluctance in teaching her such a dangerous skill was obvious, with Rarity noticing that his jaw would lock and his claws would twitch and rise whenever he saw the dagger in her hooves, and his constant, figurative hovering over her as she practiced left him with the appearance of a mother hen. The very suggestion of having his princess anywhere near a fight was clearly making the former knight ill, but he also recognized how necessary it was for her to learn how to defend herself. Rarity had already been through a couple of skirmishes, and she would likely go through a few more before this was all good and over. His own blade and body and the knightly oaths he had sworn could only protect her so far, especially since he would not joining her on her expedition.

The Merry Landing simply did not have the space for the both of them. Taking just Rarity along was pushing it, but in order to squeeze in Gustford, Brine Drinker explained that he would have had to substitute him in as a member of his crew since he couldn’t just ask his clients to make room, and that would mean having to compensate the now jobless sailor a great deal to dissuade any complaints for making such a last minute change, and keeping the loyalty of a full crew was hard enough and who knew if he’d ever be able to hire anyone else if word got out because sailors talk amongst themselves you know, and it’s just a long and complicated and costly process, and it‘d better for all parties if they could just avoid the whole thing.

Predictably, Gustford was not pleased with this development, but the only alternative Brine Drinker could offer was that they wait for the Merry Landing’s return and join him on his second southbound voyage as he would have had the time to renegotiate and come up with a way to accommodate them two together by that time. That, of course, would mean having to wait the six or so weeks it would take Brine Drinker to make the round trip, which Rarity was adamantly against. It was a stubbornness that Gustford, who wasn’t aware of Rarity’s true circumstances, couldn’t completely understand, and Rarity herself knew that in her impatience to save her friends and return to Equestria, to her home and her old life, she was being overly reckless, maybe even dangerously so. In the end, however, Rarity remained determined to leave as soon as she could, and Gustford would yield surprisingly quickly and shift his focus from trying to convince Rarity to change her mind to instead making sure that the mare he thought was his princess was well prepared.

The only other thing of note that Rarity had managed to do was attempt a search for a library or bookstore. Taking a page out of Twilight’s book and to avoid the same mistake she had made at Candelkeep before her arrival here, Rarity hoped to do some research on her destination. Any information on the southern lands or those schools of magic Gustford had mentioned might have helped, and if she managed to find anything on necromancy or on her mysterious Queen of Fey, her confrontation with that possessed stallion in the alley being still relatively recent and fresh on her mind, then so much the better. Unfortunately, Baldursgait lacked any sort of public library, and the private ones were all exclusive in who they would permit entry, with many requiring letters of recommendation or a demonstration of loyalty to their organization, which Rarity lacked both the time and the drive for, and though there were a few merchants in the market that had tomes and scrolls amongst their wares, none had what Rarity was looking for.

And so her brief stay in Baldursgait came to a dull and uneventful end, with no more bumps with pickpockets, no further encounters with otherworldly creatures, and no additional discoveries of secret cults hidden beneath public areas. The morning of Rarity’s departure was an early one, with Gustford waking her up an hour or two before sunrise. They had a light breakfast of leftover bread with cheese and apple baked into it, then after Rarity had taken a thorough check of her saddlebags and finished getting dressed, with her new dress underneath her furnished cloak, she check out of her room, leaving her key on the empty receptionist’s counter before the two set off.

There was a light drizzle as they made their way to the lower city. The streets of Baldursgait were empty up until they reached docks where grumpy sailors were up and out and wandering about as they complained loudly and vulgarly. The screams of seagulls above them were as obnoxious as any rooster’s crow, and if that hadn’t been enough to rid Rarity of the last of her sleepiness, the brisk morning air of the sea would have. She took a second to tighten the strap of her bonnet to keep the winds from snatching it off her head before continuing on to the harbor. A thick layer of fog covered the port and hid much of the boats that had been secured there, but it did nothing to muffle the noise of boisterous dockworkers hard at work. Despite the early hour, Rarity could already hear several loud shouts and grunts and the thuds of objects being dropped or thrown.

Rarity followed Gustford into the fog and shivered at its cold, moist touch. She could barely see her own hoof as she stepped onto the pier and almost walked right into Gustford when he had stopped before the side of a ship. Rarity could only assume that the ship before them was the correct one, what with her vision so obscured and she not exactly remembering if the Merry Landing had any distinctive features like a flag or figurehead, but after some several seconds ticked by, she turned to Gustford and saw that he was frowning and tapping a leg impatiently.

“This is the right ship, correct?” Rarity asked.

Gustford gave a short nod and continued to frown. “Pretty sure. Brine said he’d be meeting us at the pier though. Where is he? Hm. Excuse me, princess.” The griffon raised his head and cupped a claw over his beak. “Brine Drinker!” he hollered. “Brine, where the heck are you?”

“Look out below!” some creature on board called back, and a second later, a plank extended over the ship’s side and slammed down onto docks, right in front of Rarity and Gustford. They shared a quick, sideways glance before climbing the plank up onto the ship’s bustling deck. A crew of pegasi, griffons, bird folk, and hippogriffs were scrambling about, carrying large metal chains and thick coils of rope and rolling along heavy barrels. Some hovered above, pulling and pushing at the large white sails while those at deck level tied them into position.

A hippogriff in a long trench coat and a tricorn cap stood in the center barking out orders until he noticed Rarity and Gustford’s arrival. It was their captain, Rarity soon recognized as they approached the hippogriff.

“Ah. Er, welcome aboard,” Brine Drink said as he tried to maintain a small, nervous smile. “We, uh, we’re running a little behind schedule right now, weather being what it is. Those Candelkeep folks weren’t exactly too happy to hear that, and I’ve been spending a good chunk of an hour trying to get them off my back. That’s, uh, why I wasn’t, uh, down there to meet you. You understand, yeah? I mean, you found your way here alright, so it’s not like you needed me, yeah?”

Gustford raised an eyebrow. “Right then. Brine, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, what? Me? Yeah, yeah.” He laughed a little too loudly, which caused some of his crew to stop and stare. He waved them back to work and cleared his throat. “Just, you know, it’s the start of a new job, and a big one at that, be a little odd if I didn’t have a bit of the jitters. And then we’ve got this fog, and there was some talk of it being a bad omen, and then I had to calm down that grumpy old geezer who wasn’t too happy about the delay, and then we had to go through all of the cargo just to convince him all his blasted books were secure, and now I’ve got to deal with you and your—“

Brine stopped himself with a wince, after a stretch of silence that approached awkwardness, he continued, saying, “So, um, there’s a bit of a delay. Shouldn’t be too long, just until the fog’s gone, probably won’t even take half an hour. Just, wanted to make sure you understood, yeah? That’s not going to be a problem, yeah?”

Gustford looked to Rarity who shook her head. “Oh, it’s not a problem,” she assured. “I don’t mind waiting for the weather to clear. Honestly, I’d be more concerned if we were to set out with all this fog in the way.”

Gustford returned to Brine Drinker. “Well, there you have it. No problem.”

The hippogriff let a relieved sigh. “Thanks. Finally, it’s good to hear something reasonable today. And uh.” He coughed and scratched the front of his beak. “Listen, Gust, I just, I wanted to let you know, I’m sorry about, you know, not making room for you too. I just, I didn’t have time, yeah? You know I would’ve if I could, yeah? No hard feelings, yeah?”

Gustford took a few moments to answer. “I get it. No hard feelings here.”

Brine sighed once more. “Oh, good. That’s, uh, that’s good.”

“But,” the griffon added as he swung a foreleg over Brine Drinker’s shoulders and dragged him away, putting a bit of distance between them and Rarity. “But just because I get it doesn’t mean I have to like it. See, me not being there means I’m not going to around to protect her,” she heard Gustford say. “So I am, with great reluctance, leaving that up to you.”

“Well, hey, you don’t—“

“Ah, ah,” Gustford interjected. “Don’t talk, just listen. That mare is very important to a lot of powerful creatures in Spiketopia, myself included. Now if you value yourself at all, don’t ask questions, don’t pry, and don’t you dare let anything happen to her. Because, if say anything were to happen to her?” He leaned over and whispered something too low for Rarity to catch. Whatever was said, it made Brine Drinker’s eyes go wide and the color fade from the feathers of his face. His gaze went from the griffon to Rarity, then to the massive broadsword on Gustford’s back, and then back to Gustford himself.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Brine nodded fervently. “Y-yeah. Keep her safe. I-I’ll make sure it.”

“Good.” Gustford smiled and patted the shaking hippogriff’s back before starting back to Rarity. “Now, let’s get settled in. Brine?”

“R-right.” Brine Drinker cleared his throat. “Right,” he repeated a little more confidently and motioned to a set of stairs that went below deck. “Right this way,” he said as he led the way down.

Gustford started after him but stopped when he noticed Rarity’s frown. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Rarity continued her disapproving stare at him for a second or so before she looked away. “It’s nothing,” she said. She understood Gustford had good intentions and that he was worried, but scaring the sea captain like that felt excessive. Still, Rarity didn’t think chastising him now would help matters much. She’d have to apologize to Captain Drinker later.

The deck below was dimly lit by a few secured lanterns. As they passed each room on their path, Brine gave a quick description. “That’s storage for extra supplies,” he would announce, pointing. “Those two go to the crew quarters, but you’ll be a separate cabin with our other guests. That over there is the kitchen and mess hall, which, coincidentally, is right across the waste and lavatory room. Medical bay is there. That door there leads down to the cargo hold. And, ah, here we are!” They came to a halt. “Guest quarters.” Brine Drinker opened the door and started to step inside.

“Can’t you knock?” came a raspy grumble. The source of the less than friendly greeting sat in a hammock hanging in a corner with several crates around them. It was a stallion with a coat as dull and brown as his robes and an age as great as his wrinkles were deep and numerous. What was left of his mane, light pink with the pink barely visible, was braided into a short rat tail. A similarly colored and uneven fuzz grew beneath his chin, though the area between his snout and his upper lip was cleanly shaved.

He wasn’t alone. In the other corner there hung a second hammock, and resting in it with their snout buried in a book was a mare that looked a little younger than Rarity. She was dressed in drab robes like the old stallion opposite of her that didn’t quite complement the bright blue of her fur, and her rose colored mane was tied in a stern bun that was far too mature for a mare so young. A pair of wide rimmed glasses were perched on the end of her nose that threatened to slide off as she shrunk back when Rarity nodded to her in greeting.

Brine Drink muttered something under his breath before clearing his throat. “Right. Well. Allow me to introduce to your cabin mates for the next three weeks. Professor Don Pedogogo from Candelkeep,” he said, gesturing to the old stallion. “And his assistant, Miss Bluestockings.” There was a wave toward the mare who hesitantly raised a hoof to shyly return the wave.

The stallion scowled. “That’s Professor Don Pedagogue,” he said. “Ped-dah-go-gue. How many times are you going to get it wrong? Are we setting off yet? It doesn’t feel like we’re moving. Why aren’t we moving? What are you even doing here? Shouldn’t you be working on getting us to move?”

Brine Drinker held up his claws. “Sorry, sorry,” he said with a forced smile. “We’ll be off shortly, once the fog’s dies down a bit.”

“Hmph,” the stallion snorted, folding his front legs over his chest. “That’s what you said an hour ago.”

“Been ten minutes, you lousy—“ Brine mumbled out before cutting himself off with a cough. “Ahem, anyways this is the mare I mentioned about, the one who’ll be joining us. She’s, uh, huh.” He turned to look at Rarity. “I just realized, I don’t think I ever got your name. N-not that that’s an issue or anything. No questions asked, yeah?” He glanced over Gustford who bit back a groan as he planted a claw over his face. “Well, I’ll just leave you all get to know each other and whatnot. You can put your stuff over there.” He pointed Rarity to the third corner with a hammock before turning to address the old stallion. “We’ll let you know when we’re about to set off, yeah?”

He backed out of the room with a lazy salute, just a tap of his claw on his forehead. No creature moved after that, not until Rarity cleared her throat and put on her brightest smile. “A good morning to you both.”

At least the mare had the courtesy to attempt to smile back and wave before returning to her book. The stallion, the professor, just huffed as he lay back in his hanging cot and caused it swing with his constant shifting.

“Boy, the next three weeks are going to be rough,” Gustford muttered as he and Rarity went over to her corner, the only open section left as the room’s fourth corner was occupied by additional crates and boxes. “They look harmless enough at least, and I know, I know, you‘re in a hurry to get to the south. But I just want to be sure that you’re sure. We can still wait to take the second trip there together.”

“Oh, I am sure,” Rarity answered as she set down her belongings. It did feel a little odd to Rarity to see her luggage consisting of just a single set of saddlebags instead of the multiple piles of suitcases she’d normally take on a trip. At Gustford’s insistence, they went through Rarity’s bag again and meticulously checked to make sure she had everything, and then, to be doubly sure, they checked again. It was like dealing with an overly protective parent seeing their child off on their day of school, and no matter how much Rarity assured that she had everything, Gustford was unconvinced.

They were about to check her bags again when the door swung open. It was not Brine Drinker who stood at the doorway but a pegasus in a blue and white striped shirt with a bandanna tied around his neck and another one over his mane. The old stallion who had nearly tumbled out of his bedding and onto the floor started to grouse over the pegasus’s intrusion, but the newcomer just ignored him.

“Boss sent me to tell you that the weather’s clearin’, so we’ll be movin’ in, like, five sea minutes.”

“About time,” Professor Pedagogue said. “We’ve been waiting for hours already. What in the world is a sea minute?”

“It’s, uh, like a minute, ‘cept you’re on the sea.” The pegasus turned to Gustford. “And also, you’ve gotta go ‘fore we set off, so, uh, you gotta go.”

The griffon hesitated before nodding. “Alright, just give me a minute to say goodbye.”

“Can’t you do it while you’re leaving?” asked the old stallion. “I can’t believe we have to wait because of you two. Honestly. Hurry it up.”

Gustford, Rarity, even the professor’s assistant and the sailor that Brine had sent down all shot Don Pedagogue dirty looks, none of which seemed to bother the old pony much at all. Rarity stood up, and with a nod toward the door, she and Gustford left the room and made their way back up to the top deck. The skies were still gray and cloudy but at least they could be seen now that the fog was gone, swept away by the wind. A powerful gust blew by and stole away Rarity’s hat as it tore apart its straps, but before the wind could carry it away, Gustford snatched the hat up and returned it to her.

“Thank you.”

Gustford nodded but was silent for a moment longer. “Alright,” he said when he finally spoke, “the moment you land in New Tesaddledale, see if you can find a mage with a sending spell or something. If you can’t find anyone in Tesaddledale—“

“—find someone at the magic schools as soon as I get there,” Rarity finished as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. They had gone over this so many times already, it was growing tiresome.

“Right. There’s bound to be someone there who can help you with that. Wait, no, I’ll contact you. I can probably find a magic user somewhere in this city who could use the gold, and that way we can keep in touch during your entire time at sea. No, that won’t work. I’d have to tell them your identity, and we can’t trust any creature here with that.” The griffon grimaced. “Alright, back to original plan. Contact me as soon as you can, and if I don’t hear from you, then we’ll risk letting others know about you. And make sure you have your purse close to you. I don’t know much about the southern cities, but pickpockets aren’t exclusive to Baldursgait, you know. You have it on you?”

Rarity patted the front of her cloak where she kept her sack of silver, gold, and platinum coins.

“And your daggers?”

She patted around the same section but on the other side this time.

“Good. Keep them close. You’ll never know when you’ll need them. Make sure you sharpen them regularly. Or, at least, the normal one, I don’t really know what to do about that stone one of yours. But don’t sharpen it daily, otherwise the blade’ll get brittle and—“ Gustford stopped himself with an extended inhale. “Just, promise me you’ll be careful, Princess.”

Rarity placed a hoof against the griffon’s foreleg. “I will. I’ll be careful.”

His claw slowly extended and enclosed tightly around Rarity’s hoof. “Alright then,” he said softly before releasing it. “I should, ah, go. I’ve delayed you long enough. But, um, first, here.”

From his shirt Gustford pulled out a bulging bag and put it into Rarity’s hoof. “Some of the leftover diamonds,” he explained. “Just in case they, I don’t know, don’t accept gold and silver down south.”

Rarity nodded as she stuffed the bag into the pocket of her cloak. “Thank you, Sir Gustford, for everything.”

“It’s nothing, really. It’s the least I could do,” Gustford said with a wave. “I’m just, you know, duty and all that. Just, be safe.”

With that last request and an awkward bow, the griffon hurried off the ship. Rarity walked over to the ship’s edge to watched his retreating figure until it was lost in the crowd. A few minutes later, the ship started to move as its voyage had finally commenced. The city and its port slowly became smaller as they sailed on, carried away by the winds against the crashing waves, and Rarity said a silent farewell to Baldursgait as it eventually disappeared from view.