Damaged goods

Damaged Goods

Chapter 1: Answers and Assignments

By: Elwynn13

"Welcome back, my friends, to the show that never ends…"

-Appleloosa, 9:11 A.M-

        After ditching my weapon and most of my equipment in my room, I decide to take the orb to the local wizard. Yeah, it may just be nothing, but it could be something massive that I managed to save from the bandits. I approach old Eziramus’ library, hoping that he’s in. The library itself is an old building, with climbing ivy growing up the sides of the walls, slowly damaging the structural integrity of the building.

        I walk in, immediately calling for the old colt. He owes me a favor, anyway- we’ll count this as one, if he’s even around.  “Hey, Eziramus? You in here? I have something for you to look at!” I call, allowing myself to relax while I wait for him. Smart he may be, but he’s never been particularly limber.

        The interior of the library is much more modern than the exterior, with various posters on the walls, books on just about anything you could think of (and a few others... 101 ways to please a tree? What?) There are yew coffee tables throughout the library where many ponies would sit and read (surprisingly, very few actually take books out. Most ponies use the library as a social gathering, akin to the bar, my personal preference.)   The few seats scattered about are roughly carved maple benches. Not very comfortable, but at least they’re easy to sit on. After roughly twenty minutes and through a couple pages of the aforementioned book, Eziramus comes trotting down the stairs, looking thoroughly exhausted, panting and wheezing as he slowly makes his way down.

        “What do you want, Blackhide? I know you said you have something for me to take a peek at, but you’ve used that excuse before. Let’s see it, whatever it is,” he looks me up and down. “You look tired. Have you gotten much sleep lately?” I shake my head. Of course I haven’t. He knows that I’m a chronic insomniac, and so does everyone else. I fish the enigmatic orb from out of my saddlebags. The orb is light gray with series of web-thin etchings encompassing it. It seems to glow in a dull light as I lift it towards Eziramus. The artifact hummed softly and having it in the open made me feel tingly all over, especially around the tip of my horn.

        “The caravan that my team and I were escorting to Hoofington got hit. In the struggle, I managed to steal this from the wreckage before the bandits overtook us. Could you identify it, or did I grab a worthless piece of junk?” I eye the orb warily, not entirely sure what to expect from touching it, even via telekinesis. He takes it in his grip and looks it over, raising an eyebrow as he traces his hoof along the designs on the orb.

        “I never thought I’d see one of these, much less touch one in my lifetime. Truly, this relic is an iconic piece of history – not a good part of history, but a part of history nonetheless – zebra history, to be precise.” He looks at me hard, his eyes narrowing to slits. I lean my weight onto my left hooves, getting impatient. He never has been very good at getting to the point. I gesture with my front right hoof, insisting that he get on with it.

        “Could you get to the point? I have a killer headache, and I’d rather not be here all day.” I growl at him, narrowing my eyes and glaring at the old buck. He gulps and nods, eyes wide. I can be intimidating when I want to be, even if I am undersized, and even if my threats are empty.

 “What you’ve come across is an old zebra artifact, one of the six that were rumored to have been lost – this is the same orb that the previous champion of darkness used in her journeys!” he rapid fires off, surprising me quite a bit. Never heard him speak that enthusiastically about anything ever before. I reach out to touch the orb, purely out of curiosity. “No, you must not ever touch this relic, it may have some side effects – legend has it, the previous champion was changed, body and soul, upon touching it with her hooves. Telekinesis looks to be safe, however.” he drones on in this manner for a good fifteen minutes before I interrupt him.

“How come it’s safe for you to hold it, but not the one who brought it to you? After all, I’ve been carrying it in my bags for hours now. If it has any side effects, I’m pretty sure that they would have come into play by now.” I deadpan, my mouth hurting as I overbite into my expression.

        He steps closer to me, attempting to intimidate me. Not happening, mate – I’ve been through worse shit than an angry librarian. “You have to understand – not all souls are compatible with the artifacts – in fact, very few are. See how it seems to glow as it nears you?” He levitates the orb closer to me to demonstrate. Sure enough, it glows bright as day when it’s inches from my face. Thanks, I didn’t need to see in that eye anyway. “From what I’ve read on the subject, that could indicate one of three things. One, you’re the new champion of darkness. Very unlikely, especially since, well... all of the previous champions have been physically strong, and you...you’re, well, pardon me, but...you’re a runt. You barely have enough strength to use basic tools, much less survive the trials that they have to deal with,” he flippantly remarks.

Have I ever mentioned why I hate libraries? It’s not the atmosphere, it’s the ponies.

“Second option is that you’re destined to carry it to the true champion. That’s much more likely, given, your... abilities. The last option is that it’s simply a screw-up, and the artifact isn’t detecting anything about you whatsoever. I hate to say it, Blackhide, but that’s probably the most likely of the three,” he says to me in a matter-of-factly voice, levitating the orb back into my saddlebags. “Still, you may as well carry it. Maybe you’ll find the true owner of it, rather than just having it sit around in a museum until the Griffons invade Equestria. Don’t laugh, it’s just a matter of time,” he says, his voice completely serious. He turns around and goes back to his duties of shelving books. I blink several times and walk towards the exit, thinking about what I’ve just been told.

-Appleloosa, 2:39 P.M-

        After the eventful meeting with Eziramus, I find myself trotting my way towards the bar to grab a drink – I’m probably unemployed from that spectacular failure of a delivery, and a bottle of scotch sounds real good right about now. At least the walk gives me some time to gather my thoughts – time to think about where my life’s going. Given that I’m already in my early twenties, my lot in life is still changeable, and for good reason. As it stands, I’m a bit of a failure – I’m a pacifist in the more dangerous parts of Equestria, I don’t have any true purpose in life, and I’m not even particularly good at my job. I’ve only survived through sheer luck.

        I sigh and continue trudging along, past the Appleseed hotel in all of its ramshackle glory – the broken windows and dilapidated floors are a mess, but hey, at least it’s cheap to rent a room. The wind slowly starts picking up speed, kicking up clouds of dust into the air. Some of it gets kicked up into my face, temporarily blinding me in my right eye. Luna damnit, that hurts, even after all the injuries I've received working with theCaravan Drivers. As I wipe the offending substance from my eye, I can hear heavy hoofsteps on wood. Shit, I’m near the Caravan Drivers building, aren’t I... after a minute or so, my eye stops hurting enough for me to look around. Sure enough, there it is. The large stallion glaring at me probably is less than impressed with me at the moment...

"BLACKHIDE! GET YOUR LAZY FLANK IN HERE!" My boss screams from the door of his shop, an old-fashioned, dark oak store with various knots in the wood. Oh, and that isn't my name by the way. My name's Fortunatus, or 'Lucky' for anyone who doesn't speak Latin, which is pretty much everyone, me included. This nickname stems from my only noticeable physical trait, an ink black coat (and being the size of a mare, but that's beside the point.) My boss, on the other hand, looks like something out of a comic book, with bright red eyes, a magenta coat, and an emerald-green mane. He may be bigger than me, but I can at least–

        "STOP DAYDREAMING AND GET OVER HERE BEFORE I THROW YOUR LAZY FLANK OUT THE WINDOW AGAIN!" He screams at me and stomps, his voice beginning to get hoarse and ragged, given that he practically never stops screaming (honestly, nopony who works for him has ever heard him talk normally. I'm no exception.) When the merchant (he refuses to give out his name… most of his employees believe that there's a bounty on him for one of his many escapades) tells you to go to him, you get moving.

        "Yes, sir?" I ask, bracing myself for the inevitable beating that I'm going to get. That group of bandits may not have killed, or even harmed, me, but seeing as they got away with the entire stock meant to be delivered to Hoofington's guards, you can just call me moss, given that he's probably going to chew me out to a record level.

        He sighs, "Look. I know that you didn't mean to let those bandits get the relics and equipment from the caravans, but could you at least try to fight them, next time? After all, we provide you with weapons to deal with them. The world certainly isn't safe enough anymore to be gallivanting around unarmed. You, of all ponies, should know this." His tone is soft, surprisingly so. Sure enough, I can see his horn glowing with the gold aura of telekinesis as his whip lifts itself off of its hook behind the door.

        "Whipping time?" I ask meekly. I can feel the scars on my flank hurting once more. Lovely. Only 23 and I've already got more scars than many of my elders, simply by doing my job… Having no true role in life sucks.

        "No, of course not. You failed to protect thousands of bits worth of equipment, let your fellow caravaneers die to the bandits, and you failed to even get yourself killed, like I instructed you to do the LAST TIME this happened. ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID!? I'm not only going to whip you, I'm going to beat you within an inch of your pathetic, worthless life, and then I'm going TO SEND YOU AFTER THE BANDITS TO RETRIEVE EVERYTHING THEY TOOK!" He continues screaming in this fashion for approximately four more minutes, his voice cracking from anger several times over. While he yells, I decide to adjust my barding to a more comfortable position, given that he's about to lash out at me with his best friend, that fucking whip. Yes, his best friend is a weapon, given that nopony is insane enough to talk to him, let alone be friends with him, and here I am, interacting with him on a bi-weekly basis. My life sucks.

        My barding is made of light leather plates overlapping each other in a fashion that has helped me survive plenty of attacks in the past. Shame that said attacks were mostly hoof strikes and whip lashings, all of which have been from my colleagues and employer, respectively.

        "Still here? Excellent. Time to have me some fun… shame you probably won't return from your journey. Shame, I'm going to have to find somepony else who just takes the whipping and doesn't complain, even though he's clearly hurting…or do you like it? Is that it? Do you enjoy the feeling of the whip slashing into your weak, undersized body?" He lashes the whip around my hind legs, dropping me face first onto the ground. I am not going to miss this one bit…

-Appleloosa, 4:12 P.M-

        As I limp away from the Caravan Driversbuilding, one of my colleagues catches up with me. She is a dark-cream colored Pegasus pony, with ruby eyes and a long chocolate brown mane that hides one of her eyes. Truth be told, I'm not entirely sure if she even has both eyes, given that one of them, the left eye, is hidden at all times.

        "He really gave you a massive beat down, didn't he, Lucky? I mean, I know that you're his favorite victim and all, but an hour and a half? How are you even still conscious?" She asks, concern layering her voice. Good old Sky Gem, she's pretty much my only friend at work, and she's the only pony who seems concerned at the level of beatings I get for screwing up.

        "I-It's fine. I'm used to it, y'know? First fifteen minutes was the worst of it, and it got easier as he got more exhausted. He's only mortal, like the rest of us," I assure her in the kindest tone I can muster. Truth be told, I'm in incredible pain and will be surprised if I survive the trip to Ironpony Pass, much less the hunt for for the stolen goods.

        She looks at me with concern, her expression one of a mother who found that her son's getting into fights at school and she says simply: "Lucky… you don't have to act so tough with me. I understand that you're hurt. These days, we all are. Yes, that includes the merchant, and it includes me. Please understand… I'm always here for you, Lucky. Even if you aren't there for yourself, there's ponies that are here for you and are willing to follow you to Tartarus and back…you just need to find them. Remember the Elements of Harmony?  These days, we all need to take a page from their books and rely on our friends, and trust them with our lives." She sighs. "Now, why don't we see if we can't get you to the infirmary… those open wounds are going to get infected if we keep standing around in the dusty plains."

-Appleloosa infirmary, 4:28 P.M.-

        Sky and I trot into the infirmary, a mere fifteen minutes away from my workplace, looking to get some medical attention of some sort for my open wounds- I don’t carry medical supplies, there’s no reason to. As soon as we walk in, I can smell various chemicals... and the overhanging stench of death. Who doesn’t love going to a place where ponies go to die? Apparently, I love it, given how much time I spend here. A singular mare is trotting along with a clipboard and pencil in her telekinesis, rapidly scratching down some report. Good old Rosebud, always attempting to look busy, even when she isn’t. She looks over towards the pair of us and waves her hoof. As we get closer, she looks more apprehensive. I can see her eyes scanning over my various open wounds- this isn’t the first time I’ve been in here to get whip injuries patched up.

"Lucky, I could have sworn that last time this happened, I told you to get some more protective barding. Yet, here you are once more, same old barding, same old joker on your flank and same old scars," Rosebud says to me, glaring at me as if I'm about to lose an eye. Or grow a second head. Or grow a second head with three eyes.

        Rosebud is a light-red unicorn mare with a short-cut mane of light gold. She wears a white surgical coat, like every single nurse and doctor in Equestria (at least, of the baker's dozen of nurses and doctors that I've met.) She has a kind, if worried, expression on her face, as if she has bad news. Granted… if I was in good condition, I wouldn't be here at all.

        The infirmary itself is the same as any medical facility anywhere in Equestria- clean floors, excellent lighting, medical supplies in every nook and cranny… oh, and sick or dying ponies. Still, these days, it's not much of a surprise to see folks injured or worse. Rosebud begins to glare at me, looking irritated by my apparent lack of focus.

        "Blackhide, didn't you come in here to ask me something? After all, you're the one who dragged himself in here, looking for medical attention. You're hurt. That's not much of a surprise to either of us, so spill. Why are you here? Just wanted to get a look at my flanks before you went off on yet another adventure?" She teases me- I can immediately feel my face go red, and she stifles a laugh. "Seriously, though. What's wrong, Lucky?"

        I sigh. "Well, tomorrow, I'm to leave for Ironpony pass, in order to retrieve some crucial goods that were stolen in the most recent attack on our caravans. Y'know, the caravans that I was supposed to be guarding?" I say in a depressed tone of voice and look dejectedly at the floor.

        Rosebud looks at me with concern. "Ironpony pass? That's a death sentence. Are you sure you have to go through with this? Isn't there some way you can worm your way out of this deal, like you have before?" She continues tending to a sick pony, having apparently decided to do her job for once.

        "I'm well aware of the imminent danger. Shame is, the merchant is one screw-up away from ripping my head off and taking it as a trophy, so…I'm stuck. My hooves are tied, and he knows it. I don't even know if I'll have any help for this one…" I say, dread filling my already stressed voice. I adjust my barding once again, an action that's become a nervous habit.

         Sky steps in between the two of us and shakes her head. "Lucky…you know that no matter what happens, I'll follow you. This job is no exception. Even if it may put both of us in an early grave, better die young, satisfied, than grow old with regrets. You may believe that you're trash, but you really aren't. You may be a wild card, but that's why I like you. You're always willing to do whatever it takes to accomplish your goals, even if it requires you to work with one group and then promptly stab them in the back. Metaphorically, of course, given that you can't seem to bring yourself to injure anything, living or not." She practically growls this, with a glare that just screams 'and I dare you to argue with me on this.'

        I gulp. My…friend is not one to be argued with. I've seen her do some…interesting things to a bandit, simply for threatening somepony she's close to. Even if she's willing to follow me to the ends of the world, does that mean that I will be able to go there? Ironpony pass… may as well just kill me now, save the spirits the effort needed to kill me then.

        "So…it's settled. I'm leaving tomorrow for Ironpony pass. If you wish to come with me, Sky, meet me outside my hotel room at 6:00 A.M. tomorrow. Gather whatever equipment and supplies you need for a long trip…I have a feeling we won't be able to return for quite a long time." I turn my gaze towards Rosebud. "Hope you fare better than I in the coming days… May Luna watch over you with her protective gaze, and may your path always be clear, unlike mine." I finish my somewhat preachy blessing, and wave my foreleg at Rosebud. "See you next time I nearly die!" I readjust my barding once more, and head for the exit door, only to get blocked by several bags of medical supplies, floating in a rose-red telekinesis field.

        "Wait, Lucky. If you're going to go through with this, take some potions and drugs. You may not like medicine…or needles, for that matter… but they may be useful to you or your friend on your journey. Please, take care of yourself." Rosebud says, her voice warm as she continues, oddly enough, working on the same sick pony while she talks to me.

        I nod, put the supplies in my saddlebags, and trot out the door back to the desert trading post.

-Appleloosa, 4:52 P.M.-

        I trudge out into the searing early summer sunlight and glance around me. I really don't get enough chances to just look at my surroundings, and I would miss so many awesome sights and sounds. Appleloosa itself is a western town the likes of which are all over the place in books. Dust, tumbleweeds, and everypony with half a brain are wearing a hat to keep the sun out of their eyes. Naturally, my hat's sitting in my hotel room, growing dust like it always is. Never been a fan of hats, even if it means ignoring common sense for comfort. To the north is the 'salt lick saloon' also known as a place where ponies go to drink enough cider to knock themselves unconscious. To the south, the Bonemeal plains, an incredibly dry, uninhabitable area. There's no resources, no fertile land, nothing that could be used. Barely any animals can even survive there, and the few that can are rather scarce in numbers anyway.

        The east stretches out towards the rest of Equestria proper, all of the more well-known cities and towns. This grouping includes Canterlot, Ponyville, Cloudsdale, and my hometown -- Manehattan.  Even so, there's not much to be done around Appleloosa, with everything notable elsewhere. Still, it's a quiet town, and it's always easy to get some rest and relaxation here, even for those of us with mediocre jobs that spend most of our time abroad. The west…has the rest of Appleloosa. Stores, hotels and more rodeos than you can shake a stick at. Granted, the stores are all overpriced and don't stock much, but in the middle of the desert, you take what you can get, even if it's a horrible idea to settle for it.

        Without further stalling, I decide to trudge off towards the north to get nice and drunk before I set off on my journey. It's going to be a long trip, filled with hardships and, most likely, fights.

-The Salt Lick Saloon, 5:12 P.M.-

        Sky and I walk into the saloon with different intentions in mind. She's interested in recruiting some ponies to help us on our journey, and I'm just interested in getting some cider into myself to keep me numb for the first leg of the journey. She immediately heads to a table in the corner of the rustic (I call it ramshackle) building and sits down, beginning to speak to some colts. Typical Sky, always hitting on anything male.

        I make a beeline for the bar and sit down. I have my work cut out for me, getting enough cider in me before Sky notices that I'm doing it. The bartender, a unicorn mare with a light blue coat, trots over to me.

        "So…what'll you have, Lucky? You certainly don't look like your usual self, outside of being covered in whip cuts." She gives me an appraising look. "Are you interested in your usual, or are you just here to talk?" She says with an aside glance towards my companion, who's already laughing like a drunk in the corner… yep, that's definitely the Sky that I know.

        I shake my head. "I'm just here for a drink or three, given that I'm headed out to Ironpony pass in the morning." That's probably going to raise a crowd…

        The bartender's jaw drops. "IRONPONY PASS!? ARE YOU INSANE, LUCKY? HAVE YOU GONE COMPLETELY OFF THE BLOODY DEEP END, OR ARE YOU JUST SUICIDAL!?" She screams at me, her face turning a marvelous shade of rutabaga purple.

        I give her a stern, calm look, my mouth becoming a singular hard line. "It's not of my own accord, alright? That caravan that got hit the other day had some important artifacts in it, and bandits got away with all of them. The merchant's scouts have tracked the bandits down to Ironpony pass, so… he's decided to send his most disposable employee to go retrieve everything that the bandits stole, and deliver it to its destination." I sigh and levitate a list out of my saddlebags, engulfing it with a rust brown telekinesis field. "Here, this is a list of everything the bandits took. Does any of it sound valuable enough to send me after it?"

        As she reads the list, she looks more and more amazed, until I can see the gleam in her eyes. That's a familiar sign, the universal sign for greed — she's interested in getting her hooves on some of the relics and equipment that the bandits took. She looks up at me, and levitates the list back into my saddlebags. "Do you, by any chance, need any help with this job? After all, I can be pretty useful in a fight, if I have to," she says in a quick, excited tone of voice. Interesting how fast her mood changes when there's potential loot to be had.

        I shake my head. "No, I think I'll be fine with Sky. The two of us are capable enough that a few bandits shouldn't be a concern. After all, remember what happened to the last group that attacked her?" I ask, attempting to keep my voice level. The bartender goes pale. She simply nods. Good, she does remember.  "Now, how about that scotch that I ordered?"

-The Salt Lick Saloon, Entrance, 8:12 P.M.-

        Several hours (and drinks) later, I'm in a much better mood. I canter in a lazy fashion towards the west, intending to get my barding reinforced. Sky flies over me and waves.

"Hey Lucky, Where're you goin'? I mean, you sheem pretty sloshed, shouldn't you be heading home to, y'know, get some shleep?" She slurs out, not looking too sober herself. I notice that her flying pattern has become somewhat erratic, moving in tight loops and lazy curves.

        I sigh. She never has been able to hold her alcohol. "I'm heading to the tailor's shop— I need to get him to take a look at my barding. If I'm going north, I'll need much more cover than it's providing- currently, it'll keep my chest nice and safe, and my entire hind half a nice target, given that it doesn't even—"

        She crashes into the dirt. "Jusht do it, okay? I don't have tiiime to lishten to yer entire life story, you get me?" She mutters as she gets up. She's really not sounding too good, her voice sounding exhausted, yet perky at the same time. For crying out loud, I can smell the alcohol on her several yards away…

        I help her to her hooves with my magic. "Sky, are you feeling alright? You don't sound too good. Perhaps you should head home yourself. I'm sober enough to get my barding dealt with and to stock up on what few supplies I need, but you…you're slurring half your words. You can barely even fly, and you're… Luna damn it, you're not even awake." My voice trails off as I look closely at my friend. She's laying face-first in the dirt, snoring softly. Seriously… she fell asleep mid conversation?

-Western Appleloosa, 8:34 P.M.-

        After taking Sky home and dumping her unceremoniously in bed, I return to the western drag of Appleloosa. I continue walking west, passing by the food stalls — I really don't need anything to eat… at the moment, at least. Maybe I'll swing by there later, after I deal with my barding. I begin to move at a full gallop. I'd rather not have to encounter more merchants than I need to, or, heaven forbid, running into my boss.

        Eventually, I manage to make my way to the very edge of the town, the location of the tailor's shop. I walk into the building as quietly as possible, which for me, isn't quietly at all. The tailor, an earth pony stallion with a dirt brown coat and unkempt mane, looks up at me quickly with a jump.

        "What's up, Lucky? You look a bit on edge. Are you going somewhere dangerous?" He rapidly says in a cheerful tone of voice.  I have never had any idea how he can speak so quickly, but I can barely ever make out what he's saying.

        "…Yeah, I'm heading up to Ironpony pass. Before you make a fuss about it and how it's suicide, I'm well aware of it. The merchant is going to bloody well kill me if I don't, so…I'm going to do it. I'm not going to give him the satisfaction of beating me to death. Anyway, to business. I'm here to-"

        "Ironpony pass? You may want to get barding that covers more of you than your chest and back." He states, matter-of-factly.

        I sigh. "Yeah, that's why I came here. Is there any way you could add some extra armor to my barding, so that it covers my legs and flank?" I ask my voice desperate. I need to have some way to protect myself, other than hiding behind Sky. I mean, I'm as big of a fan of healing potions and painkillers as the next buck, but I'd rather just not need them perpetually.

        He nods. "Yeah, I should be able to do that. Would you stand still for a minute, while I take your measurements?" I grin and levitate my barding and saddlebags off. He quickly retrieves a measuring tape, and starts taking my measurements.

        While he checks my sizes, I look back at my flank to check the damage from earlier. Trios of deep whip slashes dig deep into my cutie mark, effectively cutting the joker card into thirds. How appropriate… as I die more and more, the card gets more damaged. Even with the damage, the card remains unmistakably clear in its meaning. Thanks to my nature as a wild card, I can't hold a normal job- I don't have any true purpose on life, unlike most ponies.

-Appleloosa, 11:12 P.M.-

        After several uneventful hours of standing around idly while the tailor adjusted my barding, I finally leave the store. I stretch and yawn… Jeez, it's getting late, and I need to meet Sky in front of my hotel room at 6 AM… I break into a gallop. My legs may be hurting, but I need to get some sleep before I leave to, well, die. On the plus side, my barding has been successfully improved- it now covers my front and back legs, as well as my flank- with my joker engraved over where it is normally anyway.

        Eventually, I get back to my hotel room. It may be dirty and dilapidated, but its home. As soon as I open the door, I toss my saddlebags into the corner with my magic- a worrisome 'crunch' sound can be heard as they connect with the corner. I pull off my barding (no reason to sleep with it on, after all) and drag myself onto the bed. The room itself is dirty, with books and various junk strewn about the floor, the floorboards are partly torn up and termite-eaten, and the walls are cracked and decaying. All in all, this is where I live when I'm not doing stupid things because my boss told me to.

        I close my eyes and think about the day. Today's been one of hell of a mess, from a shitty beginning with the rain, to being effectively sent to my death, to being beat an inch within my life. I sigh and roll over; my horn spearing the pillow like it has so many times before. Some ponies go through their entire lives without getting any injury worse than a paper cut or a bad scrape; I consider it normal to have healing wounds at all times. Perhaps a look at my life is in order… sleep overtakes me, mercifully.

-The apple seed hotel, Lucky's room, 5:43 A.M.-

        I slowly drift into consciousness. Well, that's a good sign- I didn't die in my sleep, so there's that. I honestly wonder what time it is…perhaps I should get up and check the clock? I open my eyes and blearily look for the clock amidst the various junk in the room. Spotting it, I engulf it in my telekinesis and pull it out of its hiding spot. Sure enough, it isn't 6 yet, but I only have about a quarter of an hour to spare, so…better get my gear together quickly.

        Moving in a blur of magic and concern, I gather up my barding and quickly put it on and pull my saddlebags on (after I loaded them with food, the medical supplies from Rosebud, a canteen, and the book Ironpony and you- A beginner's guide on survival in the north) over my freshly armored barding. I look for my unused weapon — a pipe wrench, issued to me by the merchant to protect myself with. May as well carry it, just in case Sky's sword breaks or something. After a couple minutes of searching, I find the wrench under the bed. The simple black paint job has already begun to chip and peel away, leaving the weapon looking old and battered. I levitate it into the small loop of leather on my flank, designed purely for this purpose.

        I give the room one final glance, open the door, and step outside. Standing outside is Sky, completely unarmored, save for the very light fur coat that she's wearing that looks like one strong look will tear it in half, and carrying her signature long sword on her flank in the same manner that I'm carrying my wrench.

        She looks at me carefully, eyes narrowing as if she’s deep in thought. "Well, nice to see that you planned ahead for this… are you geared for travelling north, or for the bloody end of the world?" She grins and laughs. "Still, I never thought I'd see the day where you carry a weapon, Lucky! What brought this change on, is it that we're both probably going to die, so we may as well die fighting?"

        I blink a couple of times and look at her strangely, raising an eyebrow. "Erm… I'm carrying a weapon in case your sword breaks. You know me- I don't fight. I'll take the hits for you, but I refuse to harm anypony or anything, even if it's beating me to death." I practically whisper, my voice strangely level.

        She sighs. "You're impossible, you know that? For somepony who's been injured from fights time after time, you're ridiculously adamant about not fighting back." She shakes her head and starts walking to the north gate. Not knowing what to say, I follow her with heavy spirits.

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Lucky: Trait added.

Wild card

Thanks to having a completely pointless purpose in life, you have no issues with switching sides so often that "traitor" would be a compliment.

(Author’s Note: As usual, thanks for reading. Massive thanks to Jaico for making this tripe worth reading, and Anunymau5 for letting me set my story in his universe! Also, this chapter took a bit of fixing up. Sorry about the delay, there were quite a few technical errors throughout.)