Schunie
So, after getting in a drawn out fight with a posse of minotaurs that left me with yet another injury to add to my growing list of them, there I was, walking down a road surrounded by another group, each of which was packing more in gear than I weighed at the moment, backpack included.
Go figure.
The journey was silent for the most part. I had put a few of Oswald’s tears on my arm to heal it up; it'd leave a nasty scar, but it didn't hurt too much after I put the tears on it. Once that was done, there wasn't much for me to do other than walk. It was only another mile or so to Schunie, so we arrived in about twenty minutes.
I have to say: according to what I was expecting, the city was magnificent. It was surprisingly fort-like, in that it was surrounded with high stone walls and patrolled at the edges by guards with sickeningly sharp spears. The front gate was open, but I could see that it could seal the city up tight behind a set of foot-thick metal leaves.
"This is the only way in or out of the city," Bludworth explained as we passed. "Should an emergency like a widespread fire occur, there are ladders positioned around the walls that will aid in evacuation, but other than that, there is no other passage."
"Not even like a sewage system?" I asked. "I've heard tell that that's a decent way to get into a guarded city if you can stomach it."
He gave me a somewhat flat look. "The entrance is patrolled."
"… makes sense." I looked up as we passed through the gate. "Though why exactly is a peaceful trading hub so heavily protected?"
"It'd be a gold mine for any clan that took it over,” he said, looking around at the stalls and rooftops. “Almost all of the money that the clans have is in here. It'd be enough to buy half of Equestria’s provinces off with and there would still be some left."
I grimaced. "Well, I think I can see the issue now…"
We ceased our conversation in lieu of me taking in the full experience that Schunie had to offer. For a city, it wasn't that heavily populated. Based on what I saw, the population must’ve capped at seven thousand, eight thousand beings tops. Yes, I did say beings and not minotaurs: the streets were also littered with griffins and ponies. I think I might have even seen a few Diamond Dogs there.
The basic setup reminded me a lot like a larger version of Ponyville. There were a decent amount of multi-store buildings, but nothing like the rows and rows of them you get in a city like, say, Canterlot. Most of them seemed to be inns or taverns, with a few official looking buildings and set shops. Really, the type of construction that took up the most space was the glorified individual stall. Each race was selling their version of everything you can think of off the top of your head, and a lot that you couldn't: food, ale, weapons, armor, basic supplies, random trinkets… Everything was there.
I let out an impressed whistle. "Nice place you've got here."
Bludworth snorted and motioned for his team to spread out, and I saw a few of them going up to some stalls with small sacks of cash. "This is the place where everybody in a five-hundred-kilometer radius comes to buy supplies. I’d say it’s only a consequence of all the hustle and bustle." He gave me an inquisitive once-over. "And what of you? Schunie’s not exactly a common gathering spot for… exotic beings."
Well, at least he was more polite about my species than the rest. I shrugged it off and explained, "I have some supplies of my own to get. I'm heading out to Griffonia next."
Bludworth cocked an eyebrow. "And why are you doing that, if you don't mind me asking?"
"Um..." I massaged my temples. "I don't really know. I'm trying to get back to my home, and I think they might be able to help."
He nodded. "And where is your home?"
I motioned to the sky with Reginald’s tip. "It's on a whole other plane of existence: an alternate dimension, if you will. Basically, Equestria’s very own Princess Celestia was screwing around with portals, and reeled me into your plane by mistake. Now she can't send me home, so I'm traveling around the nearby countries to see if somebody else can."
Bludworth shot me a look of bewilderment. “And you really believe that is possible?”
I was surprised by how he said that: instead of incredulity or mocking, all I felt coming from him was pure, honest curiosity. It was so unexpected, so weird to hear, all I could do was shrug. “I won’t know it until I try to find out. I’ve got nothing to gain by sitting still and wondering about it, right?”
He nodded. “I have to agree. In any case, what are you here to get?"
I reached into a small pocket of my backpack and pulled out a small bag of bits, grateful to be off of the topic of my evident lunacy. "Food and water, mostly. A change of clothes or some soap wouldn't be unwelcome either. I'm good on medical supplies."
The corner of Bludworth's mouth turned into a strange line. "And you've got enough to pay for all that?"
I shrugged. "I think I have about... thirty Equestrian bits in here."
Bludworth looked down at my cash bag. "Is it just bits in there, or do you have anything else?"
I put the bag back in the backpack with a frown. "Like what?"
Bludworth motioned for me to follow him. "Most shops around here will take all kinds of currency as payment, but some are picky about what money they’ll accept. You've got bits, so that'll keep most ponies happy, but some minotaur stands only take our dinars and a few griffin vendors only take their grypfs."
"Uh..." I bit my lip. "N-no, I don't have any of those." I pulled the bag out again and opened it up. "What's the exchange rate around here?"
“I think it's one and a half bit to the dinar and six tenths of a bit to the grypf.” He pointed towards a tall, gray building deep in the center of the city. "The city hall should have a specific list."
I reached into the bag and pull out one of my bits. "Well, that's great, then, isn't it?" I muttered, looking over the coin’s edge to a griffin vendor who was exchanging a sort of flat silver coin with another griffin for a cut of some sort of meat. Yeah, I definitely didn't have anything like that. "Maybe I could just hunt my food."
"You'd need a hunting license for that,” Bludworth shot me down, “and those are about a hundred dinars. You'd get in a lot of trouble if you were caught hunting so much as a rabbit without one." He motioned over to Oswald, who was flying alongside us. "Your phoenix can hunt without restrictions, since he's not recognized as a legal person, but if an official saw you eating a rabbit he caught… let’s just say the fines here aren’t exactly small."
I nodded glumly in acknowledgement. "Okay, hunting's out, and I'm already guessing that there isn't a lot of viable, unclaimed vegetation ripe for foraging around here, right?" I put the bit back in the bag. "With only thirty bits and an iffy exchange rate to go with. Great."
I got slapped on the back by a fairly large hand. "Don’t be so gloomy, it’ll be fine. It’s all a matter of how you are going to go about it."
I looked back down at my bag of bits, then up at the stalls. Then down at my bits, then at the stalls again. "I think I might have to get a job. Regardless of what I do for food, I still need cash. For example, I already know I'll need a better knife than some diamond dog's little flint blade. Just a few other odds and ends couldn't hurt either, and none of it will come for free."
Bludworth tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I believe I might have a place that could take you on if you're really willing to work."
* * * *
After a ten minute trip, Bludworth and I reached what could have passed for a large barn if it didn't have a hole in the ceiling and two missing walls. A smaller minotaur was inside, banging away on a white hot metal rod placed on an anvil with a giant hammer, almost too big for him. He was only about three inches taller than I was, if I recall correctly. A stall next to the barn had weapons and armor for all kinds of creatures on display. I turned to Bludworth. "A blacksmith?"
He pointed a finger towards the barn's front wall, and I saw a large 'help wanted' sign plastered on it. "Turgis is getting on in years, and he needs a new apprentice. If you're looking for a job and some weapons, there is no finer minotaur in all of Schunie."
The two of us walked up to the workshop just as Turgis finished hammering out what looked like a small sword. He lifted the white hot metal with a pair of tongs and put it in a nearby bucket of water. The vapor came out of the bucket with a loud hiss and blew past the two of us like an instant fog bank; it even dampened my clothes a bit. The minotaur then lifted the sword up out of the bucket and held the dripping blade aloft. "Perfect," he whispered approvingly to himself.
"Yours always are." Bludworth responded as we approached the stand. "Age hasn't dulled your skills."
Turgis turned and gave Bludworth a toothy grin. "Ach, is tha' you, Bludworth? Come ta pay yer respects to one ah'yer elders, are ye?" he said in an accent I couldn't quite place. Scottish, maybe? Or, well, Scottish for me.
Bludworth grinned right back "You wish."
The two grasped the other's right forearm and smashed their heads together; it sounded like a giant banging two boulders together. I was suddenly grateful that I was not on the receiving end of this sort of greeting back when I had first met my guide. "I've got this human here that could be some help to you."
Turgis peered over at me with a flat face. "Is tha' what yer talkin' about?" he snorted. "Scrawny lil' thing, innit? Tha bird might'n be worth more, yeah?"
"Hey, I'm not that scrawny! Or even really scrawny in general!" I tossed back. I had gone through too much with Tycho to be called 'scrawny' by some old slab of beef. "I held my own against seven of you guys!"
Turgis stared me down with a raised eyebrow at me for over five seconds, then he turned to Bludworth, who confirmed my story with a nod. "It's true. Purgle had one of his typical crews put together for ‘sport hunting’. They ended up finding him instead of the usual game, however."
"Purgle? Tha' nasty git?" Turgis gave me a second, long look. "Ye ‘on't say?" He beckoned me over. "Takes a whole lotta agility ta survive 'gainst seven trained minotaurs, tiny. How’d ye manage that?"
I raised Reginald for him to see. "I got about a year of training in Zenya."
“Hm…” Turgis reached forward and took the quarterstaff out of my hand. He gave it a twirl, balanced it on one finger, then took it with both hands it and smashed it against an edge of his anvil. It sounded like a hammer had impacted it. "Pony made, Canterlot, basic unbreakable spell on steelwood. Whoever made this knew exactly what he or she was doin'… an’ that’s somethin' unusual for a Canterlot weapon when ye can even find 'em." He glanced back up from it to me. "Ye get this from one a’ tha princesses or somethin'?"
I snorted. "Like hay, oat and wheat I did. I got that in some back-alley shop some ten minutes away on foot from the castle. The maker was kind of insistent that I bought it from her, now that I think of it. She only charged me ten bits."
The two gave me a strange lopsided look. “That… sounds like a bit of a seedy story, don’t you think?” Bludworth asked.
“Not exactly,” was my answer. “I showed it to Celestia’s personal student, and she didn’t have anything to say about it other than it’s simple to make.”
Turgis snorted in disdain. “Yeah, reeeal easy… ‘long as ye’ ‘ave the right kind ‘a wood, the proper tools ta carve it without it losin' its properties an’ the unicorn able ta enchant tha thing properly. Ask me and I say tha lass ne'er got ‘er pristine lil' hooves less than fifty feet from a forge, so what'd she do ta think 'erself a master on tha subject? Read a library book on it?”
“Most likely…” I deadpanned.
“See?” Bludworth interjected. “And don't you think it's odd that something so complicated to make was sold to you for pocket change?”
It sounded like a bit of a paranoid way of thinking, but now that I thought about it, he had a point. What did that mare do to need so desperately to sell an enchanted stick to the first civilized creature that passed by?
I nodded, and he stepped closer. “Exactly. Now, even though I don’t know any of the details, I'm going to recommend you to tread the safe path here and don't go mentioning to everyone exactly where and how you got this. People tend to connect the wrong dots when they hear even a little of something.”
I blinked. “Why are you making it sound like I'm carrying stolen jewels from Luna's headgear?”
"Close 'nuff,” Turgis said. “Usually ye find somethin' this good either from Celestia's personal armory or Las Pegasus casino security. Say what ye will about tha gamblin' and the comfort horses there, but ye'd be hard pressed ta find a better place ta get weapons in Equestria than from a Las Pegasus smith. One of the larger ones outfits the guards with their weapons and arms, an' their prices are a wee bit outta-league for most." Turgis tapped Reginald against the anvil again. "Anyway, bein' a metalworker, Ah can't do too much ta improve this thing, but Ah know ponies 'round here tha' can. Tha' would cost bits or dinars tha' Ah assume ye ‘on' have."
"I'm working on thirty bits here."
Turgis snorted as he handed Reginald back to me. "'Nough ta net ye a room in one of tha cheaper inns for a night or two, Ah'll wager. Ye ain't sleepin' in the shop tha rest of 'em, so Ah'll presume ye do need a job."
I blinked, twice. "Uh... yeah, you got it right."
He sighed. "Well, no sense wastin' tha day about it." Half a second later, I was being pulled into the barn by my hand. "Put tha' satchel o' yers down in tha corner there. The bird can help if it's able."
"Oh." I slipped out of his grip and put the backpack and Reginald in one of the corners. "Thanks, I guess."
"Ah'm old, laddie. Ah need some help an' so far you look like ye can help me a lil' bit." I turned back to my new boss and he poked me in the shoulder. "On top a' that, Ah need a challenge!"
I looked over at Bludworth, only to see him shrug and give me a two-fingered salute before walking away. I gulped and looked back at the still-grinning Turgis. "… Okay, where do I start?"
~~~~
I chuckle, idly rubbing my hands. "I gotta say that those first few days were pretty tough. No matter how much weight you carry as you do it, running in circles doesn’t work the same parts of your musculature as swinging a ten-pound hammer for hours. But that’s not the worst part: this is." I hold up my hands for the ponies to see, showing that they have some good, leathery calluses on the inner face and more than a few burn scars on both sides. "If I didn't have Oswald's tears, they'd be in a lot worse shape, especially from where I started out."
Apple Bloom gets off of her chair, followed by the other two Crusaders, and reaches up for my hands. I let her grab them with her hooves, and she whistles after a more thorough examination. "Land sakes, TD, Ah figured that bein' a blacksmith was tough and all, but Ah didn't know it could get ya hurt that bad!"
"Now ain’t y'all glad that me 'n Rarity stopped the three of you from tryin' to become Cutie Mark Crusaders Blacksmiths?" Applejack says smugly.
Her sister's ears flatten. "Yeah, it was prolly fer the best." She turns back to me. "So do ya think ya did a good job bein' a blacksmith?"
I snorted. "I sure hope so, or at least that my work was passable. I worked with the guy for… over a year, I think it was."
"I take it that some of your added strength is from that, in addition to the training you underwent with Tycho?" Rarity surmises. "Certainly a year of that would build up muscular strength even further."
A slightly lewd smile crosses my face and I open my mouth to respond with yet another comment about her potential attraction to me.
To her luck, Rarity takes a hint and, blushing and gritting her teeth together, she waves a dismissive hoof. "I really set myself up for that one, didn't I?"
Oswald and I chuckle, both nodding at the same time.
My new favorite teasing target sighs. "Really, TD, must you insist on making jokes of that nature?"
I shrug. "I suppose not, but when you set up the stage, I can’t help but dance." Rarity grumbles something to herself and I let out another snicker. Somepony else laughs, too, but I can’t put a finger on who. It definitely isn’t Twilight, though; she’s looking sourer than a bottle of vinegar and lemon ever since I relayed Turgis’ thoughts on her weapon-crafting knowledge. "Anyway, I got the hang of being a blacksmith's apprentice before even a month, so I was in a nice routine pretty early. Since I had no plans to stay permanently, we made an agreement that I would work for him for at least six months, until he was able to get more help. It was all in my favor, too; winter in those parts is surprisingly cold for its geography."
~~~~
Well, it was a pretty simple time in Schunie. Turgis got my training started right away; he didn't let me do things like hammer out the steel, but he had me on supply runs, drawing water from the nearby well, working the pump to heat up the furnace, that kind of thing. I'd had some experience working with customers beforehand, so he often left me in charge of selling our wares to his customers. He showed me the ropes for bartering, something that also helped a lot when I went out to get my own stockpile of travel supplies.
We would both rise just before dawn to get to work, and I'd start the furnaces while he'd put out our merchandise. Ninety percent of our business was armor repair work – the minotaur militias were the most common, but griffins weren’t far behind. To save time, Turgis taught me how to evaluate and repair the fabric padding while he worked on the actual metal aspects, like the plates and chainmail. We'd work until about seven in the evening, then I’d put out the fires while he closed up and took stock. At the end of each day, I’d get thirty percent of what we had made – daily, that summed up to around two hundred dinars, most of which I put in a bank account that I had set up for myself. The rest I converted into bits and grypfs and spent as needed.
I think it was about halfway into the winter months before anything of real interest happened. I progressed fast enough in the crafting part of the job that I was able to help Turgis with some pretty cool stuff. Not that I got to use it, or train with it at all, but I knew that, once I got some cash behind me, I would only be keeping Watt’s knife for its sentimental value.
Having said that, Turgis wasn’t a slouch when it came to flint either, and he gave me some good pointers on how to beef it up for more sharpness and durability. By the end of it, not gonna lie, I could easily stab through two inches of solid wood with no fear of breaking it. Watt’s work was like a child playing with clay by comparison.
Anyhow, it was a month or so into winter before something interesting… and more than a little terrifying, happened. Turgis had only recently started me on unsupervised craftsmanship, and I was hammering away at a griffin’s helmet when I heard three or four minotaurs approaching. "Just give me one second, guys." I said, craning my head up for a acknowledging glance. "I'm almost done with the..."
The hammer was halfway down to the helmet when it hit me who I was seeing. I recognized that full suit of black plate armor and that wicked battle axe instantly; the latter had almost been the end of me some time back after all.
I put the hammer down, chuckling uneasily. "Hello, gentlemen. It's... well, I can't say that it's exactly nice to see you again, but here we are."
The posse’s faces were hardened into scowls, and the leader in particular – Purgle, I think that Bludworth said his name was – looked quite like he'd enjoy tearing me in two then and there. "You."
I shrugged and began banging away at the helmet again like nothing had happened. "What do you know, it is me."
Purgle's eyes narrowed, and he took a menacing step inside the barn. "If it isn't the little runt that I should have wiped off the face of the planet months ago."
That line was enough to change my unease into anger. "If it isn't the coward who attacked me seven on one," I spat back, waggling a finger at him, despite knowing full well that I was playing with fire big time. "Isn't it a big no-no for minotaurs to attack something seven to one if the something isn’t seven times their size? That’s very dishonorable."
Purgle snorted steam through his nostrils and slammed his hand down on the table. “Oh, you spunky little punk, I'm definitely going to leave you as a red smear on the ground the second I get the chance!"
I frowned. "Yeah, about that… can I ask why? I mean, really, I don’t get the bone you have to pick with me."
"You got away." He leaned in even closer. "I don't like it when things that are mine get away from me. You were supposed to be good sport, even if that meddler Bludworth got in the way."
"Yeah, in your dreams. In any case, here I am now," I responded evenly, "protected from you by Schunie's laws. So unless you want your entire clan's rights to the city taken away from you, you won’t want to try anything and will leave me alone."
Purgle was about to respond, but someone else cut him off by walking right up. "What's goin' on ‘ere, laddie? Ah told ye ta get tha' helmet done so..." Turgis stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Purgle and his cronies. "Purgle? What ‘re ye doin' ‘ere? Come ta give mah apprentice a hard time?"
Purgle huffed again and took his hand off of the table. "Of course not, Turgis. He was never in any danger from me or my clan today. I cannot say the same for him outside of the city, but here, he is safe." His eyes narrowed in frustration. "As are the rights of all of us."
Turgis snorted himself. "Ah did nae think so. Yet Ah ain't so dense yet that Ah cannot see tha' ye wanna kill ‘im. Why be that?"
"Apparently because he didn't kill me when we met last." I raised my hand into the air and pretended to point out an invisible banner. "I can even see the posters: 'TD vs Purgle 2: First It Was Sport, Now It's Personal.'"
Turgis shook his head and took over the work on the helmet. "When will ye learn, Purgle? Not everythin' new is a toy or a target."
"This is not your affair, Turgis," Purgle snarled. "This is between me and the human." He straightened up and crossed his arms. "And as for you, I challenge you to a death match, right here in Schunie."
Somehow, the entire town square went quiet. The blacksmith wasn't exactly on the beaten path, but everybody there knew where we were, and we had a few other stalls on either side of us that got good business, so there were about two dozen merchants and passers-by around when Purgle made the challenge. Each and every one of them went dead silent. Even his goons' jaws dropped, and it was not hard to guess why.
Now, before I explain why everybody went so quiet, let me explain a bit about combat rules in Schunie. No, Dash, I’m not stalling or exaggerating: you’re genuinely going to have to know this to understand.
Here’s the thing: as I've mentioned before, it's illegal to fight in the city limits or on the road to the city – if you do, your rights and those of anyone you represent, be it clan or otherwise, are revoked. Having said that, minotaurs are a species that likes to fight, so foreseeing this, the leaders of the city set up designated fighting arenas within the city where anybody who wants to fight for whatever reason, from a friendly spar to a lifetime grudge, could go and duke it out. It’s free for anybody who wants to fight, and since most fights draw a decent crowd, which in turn draws betting. The score is settled, the public’s entertained, Shunie cashes in on the betting taxes, and everybody’s happy. If one of the combatants is killed by accident, the surviving combatant is fined.
Death matches are a little different. From what Turgis taught me, the city knew that sometimes the quarrel would necessitate a death match based on each clan's perception of honor. So, figuring that it would both deter frequent death matches and create a decent source of revenue for the city, they legalized death matches, but at a really high cost, which varies from ‘an arm and a leg’ to ‘your lifetime savings’ on average. The winner got a small cut of the profits, most of which usually went to medical bills.
For the time I spent there, given the rarity of death matches, when they happened, it was all that anybody could talk about. The shops would close down on the day of the fight, every detail of the match that could be exploited would be plastered on the front page of the news, and the fighters never got a moment's peace. To hear Turgis talk about it, the betting on death matches was so heavy that it literally affected the balance of the city’s economy. On top of all of that, it was often years before the losing clan would dare show their faces in the city again out of shame. I think the minimum was at least two years, which is a bit reason why it was so uncommon.
That's how big of a deal this was.
~~~~
I pause in my explanation when I hear the scratching of a quill on parchment. Exactly as I expected, Twilight is scribbling down what I'm talking about, furiously so. I shake my head languidly, smirking knowingly. "Having fun, Twilight?"
"Yes, yes, yes!” she says with an eager grin. “You’re a cornucopia of up-to-date geographical information, TD! You have no idea how much you’re giving me to work with! Go on!"
I roll my eyes in good nature. "Anyway..."
~~~~
So yeah, I was standing still in a dead silent marketplace, with a giant, fully armed and armored minotaur who had just challenged me to a duel standing in front of me. What was worse was that pretty much the entire social climate of Schunie for the next long while would depended on my answer.
With a great deal of difficulty, I swallowed and sputtered out a reply. "Uuh... why exactly?"
Purgle's mouth twisted into a malicious grin. "You're a coward. If you decline, when you leave the city, I'm going to hunt you down and finish the job that way. You should be thanking me: I'm giving you your only shot at an honorable death. It's either this, or I hunt you down to the ends of the world. You fought me and ran. Now you’re in a corner, and the only way out is through me."
It was at this point that Turgis recovered his wits to try to knock some into Purgle. "Listen ‘ere, ye ninny! Yer still a young chieftain, don' ye go throwin' the glove at anybody who looks at ye funny!"
"Stay out of this, old man," Purgle snarled without so much as looking at him. "I believe that this being took some of my honor when he scurried away. Now I want to reclaim it."
"Look, it was seven against one!" I retorted. "How is that honorable at all?!"
"The amount matters little. You hid behind Bludworth when he came up the road like a scared little calf hiding behind his mother."
"Yer bein' thick-headed, Purgle!" Turgis insisted. "If ye feel that yer honor was truly damaged, then jus' challenge him to a normal sparrin' match an' be done wi’ it!"
Purgle shook his head and leaned against the table again. "Death. Match."
I looked over at Turgis, who was glancing uneasily between the two of us. Based on what he had told me of death matches, combined with what I was beginning to figure out about Purgle, I knew it was up to me to get out of this. "Uh, look... can't we settle this like civilized beings?"
"We are. Death match."
By now quite the crowd had gathered around Turgis' shop, listening intently to our exchange.
"The alternative is you spending the rest of your life here in Schunie. Your honor will have been irreparably damaged from having refused a death match, and thus nobody will want to interact with you, let you buy their items, or stay in their inns. Or, you leave the city and I go after you when you do." He began drumming his fingers on the table. "You can accept the death match, and die with honor."
"Uh..."
"If you like I'll even cover your entry fee." His nasty grin returned. "Just to show that it isn't personal."
I cast him the most skeptical glare I could conjure. "Yes it is."
Purgle shrugged. "Be that as it may, I want your answer. Do you choose to starve in the streets of Schunie in dishonor, die out in the field in dishonor, or die honorably in the arena?"
"Uh..." My gaze zoomed around, scanning the crowd, hoping that anybody could get me out of this one. I hoped that some official would come along and break it up and say that death matches had been made illegal in the time that we had been talking… but nobody did. All that was left to do was for me to answer.
"Uh... I guess I don't really have any choice in the matter, do I?"
Purgle's malicious show of teeth widened. "So you accept the challenge?"
My stomach was twisting itself into so many knots that I almost vomited right there, but I kept my composure and nodded. "Yes. I do accept your death match challenge, Purgle."
The silence extended to even the breeze, like the town itself was holding its breath. It was all about my words in response to Purgle’s words.
Finally, someone in the crowd spoke up in a tone that I would describe as a cross between amusement and incredulity. "Oh Celestia, no way!" Wouldn’t you know, it was a pony.
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NEW CHAPTER!!!
derpicdn.net/thumbs/800/600/2013/06/01/00_34_28_233_338063__UNOPT__safe_pinkie_pie_animated.gif
2813489 Disgusting means one of thirty different things too.
Partway through, the entire text becomes italic. Just so you know.
Other than that, love it! Can't wait for the next chapter!
2813966It would be funny if one of the Girls said or asked something like, "Oh my gosh, did you win?!"
Er, I think you repeated yourself there.
Great Chapter!!
Quick question, is Gilda going to make an appearance when TD goes to the Griffin kingdom?
Repeated that bit.
EDIT: Ninja'd.
Nice chapter. There were a few mistakes though:
Right about here it repeats the previous paragraph before moving on.
Sorry, but it was sooo confusing until I realized what happened.
Just an extra I here.
All in all, it was really good. I love the Scottish blacksmith character and I'm glad he came up here. Also, I like that TD was really reluctant to accept the death match. Seeing as he could fend off those seven with some help from Oswald, I'd say TD's chances are looking decent in this fight.
Also, the chapter's font turned to italics about half way through.
you formatted your italics wrong...
So, what's with the italics half way through?
There is only one way to solve this…MORTAL KOMBAT! Men I can't wait, to see, what happen next, did he win?
I know this may seem like a weird thing to say but, you know how in rodeos they have clowns to spook the bulls when a rider is thrown off?
Would that trick work as well against Minotaurs?
Either way, great update to the story.
I CANNOT wait until we see how TD and Chrysalis interact in future chapters.
Ha, and then TD invents a revolver.
Game over.
AWESOME CHAPTER!!! >:D
Only thing though is why half of the entire thing is in italics?
Also, somewhere through it you repeat the same several paragraphs twice in a row.
Could you fix that?
2814362>>2814183>>2814149>>2814131>>2813945 Fixed It wasn't me it was Fimfiction.
2814433 Oh, suuuuuure it was.
Here’s the thing: as I've mentioned before, it's illegal to fight in the city limits or on the road to the city – if you do, your rights and those of anyone you represent, be it clan or otherwise, are revoked. Having said that, minotaurs are a species that likes to fight, so foreseeing this, the leaders of the city set up designated fighting arenas within the city where anybody who wants to fight for whatever reason, from a friendly spar to a lifetime grudge, could go and duke it out. It’s free for anybody who wants to fight, and since most fights draw a decent crowd, which in turn draws betting. The score is settled, the public’s entertained, Shunie cashes in on the betting taxes, and everybody’s happy.
....Seriously? Where have I heard this before...Deja vue, man. Besides that, you have a repeating line in the story. You may want to get that fixed....
2814433
Yep, there are issues like those that occur sometimes.
2814360
You should have pinkie ask if the other guy who I'm too lazy to check the name of kills him. It would be rather funny and in chariter
2814433 Ha! That's what they all say...
My money's on TD pulling something off that ends with no one killed.
Why is it that when I heard Turgis talk, it reminded me of this?
Why do I have the feeling this deathmatch is going to go along the lines of the battle between Mad Dog and Marty in Back to the Future 3? Also, the itallics they be taking over!
There's always the one crazed guy in the baffled silent crowd!
Well-written chapter!
I have a feeling that random pony is gonna be the one to call out how TD is the one who punched Celestia in the face twice, causing either Purgle to suddenly fear or respect him, or the entire city to side with TD. Just speculation, though.
2813966 2814091 Would also be just as funny if he pulls a Monkey Island 2 on the girls... for those of you who don't get it, in the game MI2 protagonist Guybrush Threepwood (who is telling his ex-girlfriend while he is hanging on to a rope for dear life) about how he ended up in such a situation, including a part where he mentions he 'died' in acid. She brings this up with him, asking "If you were boiled in acid days ago, how are you here now?" I can picture TD telling them how he was stabbed to death, making Fluttershy faint and Pinkie gasp lol.
Edit: As a bonus, here is the joke I am referring to.
2814338
The clowns are meant to distract the bulls so the fallen rider can get to safety(either under their own power or with aid depending on how hurt they are), not scare them. The bulls are battering rams full of rage, they're not gonna be scared of a guy in a clown suit. They will be distracted by the moving target though.
2814919 That would be funny, but instead of saying he died, TD tells them he got his arm or leg cut off.
The twist is it Actually Happened!
How'd he get it back? A gallon of phoenix tears. Ooh, the look on their faces.
...........well fuck. That doesn't sound good!
Well, this ought to be grand.
I predict TD taking Reginald and using it as a "nut cracker".
Well, this will be interesting. Would be cool if TD actually killed him, but I'm guessing you have something else in mind.
and now i need to wait another few weeks for update just.FUCKING.grate....
And TD is now going to utterly humiliate a minotaur...in a death match...
...If I buy the shirt will you update faster? And DAMN, I can't attend Bronycon.
Ho gee.
The only way out of this is a pistol and a fistful of 500 gram weights.
I'm guessing he does the Deathmatch, but refuses to kill his opponent when he wins.
2816302
If I didn't suddenly get blinded by a random flashbang during the rules part, he gets a fine if he kills his opponent.
2816446 Exactly, he spares the minotaur and he gets to walk out with a clear conscience.
awww shit, SHITS GOING DOWN
i cannot wait for the next chapter
2816036 Except this is just one minotaur. He held his own against seven at once.
2816868 but we already know he doesn't get home.
2816446 For a sparring match that is the case. For a death-match...
Two men enter
one man leaves.
2817799
But there's only one (real) man entering.
2816868
But he doesn't get home, this is him regaling the last 6 years of his life to the girls. Right now hes stumbling blindly between the major Providences of the world hoping one or more of them can help. Crossing off the checklist so to speak.
2816689
For a while.
And back then, he was just a little bunny for them.
I'm pretty sure the minotaur is going to actually try now.
Too bad TD dosent know the art of making a shotgun using the forge. That would be a quick battle if there was some human tech involved.