RealityPublishing's "Noteworthy"
Author's Note
First and foremost, I'd like to thank everyone for sticking with us for this year-long crusade! There's been twists and turns, failures and successes, but I believe it was all worth it in the end! With one year gone, I can say with confidence that our run is all but over! We, nay, I, will promise to inspire by creating original fictions, new worlds, and brand new characters to help develop the works we write. I hope everyone here can enjoy this day as I have. I've toiled around the clock writing these works; I hope you enjoy what we have to offer. Please be sure to check the blog tab for new stories and other updates!
Thank you,
~RealityPublishing
Noteworthy - Prologue
808 A.S.D.; Vanhoover, Equestria
*Khuf, khuf*
The light foggy weather rained down upon the back-road detours; my hooves feathered the ground as I sped. The colt whom I chased was somepony I thought I knew, a traitor whose business was very much of my interest. He was a colorless pony, as well as many of the others he worked with. He wore a light gray, low-hanging satchel to match his coat; it hung very close to the ground as he galloped. The stallion, three times bigger than I was, looked back in fright; he knew very well what I was after. He called out, his voice quivering in the wind,
“What d’ya want from me?” His legs shivered as he ran; his tail waving like the white flags of surrender, “I didn’t do nothin’! I swears it!”
With those final words, he fell forward to be a fallen victim to the inconvenience of a well-placed puddle. He spun around, hastily crawling against his back; I smiled, slowing my pace to a gentle walk,
“You know what I want?” I chuckled. The stallion panicked, shuffling away from me as quickly as possible; I stepped on his left-hind hoof,
“Yes, I think you do.”
He placed his meaty hooves over his eyes, “Please. You’ve gotta let me go! You don’t know what these guys are gonna do to me!”
I laughed, ripping the mud-covered bag from him,
“Heh. What do I care? You’re the one who crossed the line,” I grinned, leaning in close to fully enjoy his frightened expression, “You’ll just have to come up with a lie. You’re good at that.”
I slung the parcel around my neck and began to walk away; the colt grabbed my pearl-white tailcoat, begging once more,
“Please, you’ve gotta gimme that!”
I smirked, pushing filth away from me,
“You just don’t understand what you’ve gotten yourself into, Darren,” I opened the bag, pulling out whatever few papers were nestled inside, tossing the satchel toward him afterward and tucking the documents in my right coat pocket,
“It’s a changing world and you’ve stepped off on the wrong hoof,” I sneered, leaving him behind in the tar-filled puddles of the big city.
“Welcome to Vanhoover”
