Rumors, bits, and pieces

by Nameless Narrator

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Other, Original Character
Length: 2576

You are not a hero, you are a bartender. Well, you aspire to be one. After long time of hard work in your father's bar, you got a loan and bought a run down building in a city full of adventurers looking for wealth. You offer beer, they stories.

Your name is Frosty Mug. You worked hard, and now you've arrived in the city of Pine Hills famous for the steady flow of adventurers, explorers, and tourists on their way to explore the Badlands, hunt wild beasts, or do something with that rumored huge glowing portal in the fortress situated in the main square. You've got some kegs of beer, some wine bottles, and a deed in your hooves.

You're not the hero going on crazy adventures, but if you work hard, they will pass through your future tavern and tell you their stories. Maybe you'll even say the right thing to change their course of action. You might even encourage them to brave dangers they wouldn't otherwise face, or ruin their efforts completely.

But most of all, you are here to listen and make money.

(An attempt at mostly dialogue-driven story with some CYOA elements. We'll see where it leads us. Feedback is always appreciated, since I have no idea what I'm doing as usual. )

Published 2017-06-24 14:20:06 UTC
Last updated 2017-06-25 11:46:56 UTC

Starting off

You finally did it, you managed to qualify for a loan from the bank of Vanhoover! With the money, you were just a short step away from making your carefully planned future come true. Granted, moving directly across Equestria to the city of Pine Hills wouldn’t be called a short step by some, but that didn’t stop you. You bought a bar, or an empty building that would eventually become one.

What made you start here, and not back home where you had some contacts, friends, and parents?

The vision of money, and adventure. Well, money for you, and adventure for the hundreds of adventurers and explorers passing through the town on their way to the Badlands. After all, you were no warrior, but you sure knew your beer. In your fathers bar, you used to be… everything, really. Your huge physique managed to mask the fact that you were far more likely to hurt somepony by tripping and falling over at them rather than punching, you knew some basic cocktails, wines, and beers from all over the world, and you had experience keeping books for your dad’s estabilishment. You weren’t really great at anything, but you took some books which your father knew by heart already with you, and you believed you were as ready to leave the nest as you’d ever be.

You know there will be obstacles between you and your success - competition, the possibility of Pine Hills being overrun by the horrors beyond its walls, and the off chance of this derelict ruin falling on your head. The real estate agency lied a lot about the state of this place, but by now you know you did rush into things. However, you still have a three story building, and a plan. While most bars in Pine Hills are functional or themed to suit the endless flow of danger-seekers, your idea is not to set new trends, but to return to an old one. Your tavern will be the old kind, one from before the era of corruption - sawdust on the floors, heavy wooden tables, mugs reinforced by iron, and torches.

You look at the peeling paint marking the walls everywhere around. Your ground room bar is going to take some serious work.

Maybe fake torches. This place thankfully does have electricity and running water.

So, what have you got at your disposal? The ground floor is one big, open room, a hallway leading to the bathrooms, a utility closet, and the two upper floors are full of rooms where future customers will have their future beds and future affairs in.

Oh, and you already had the various barrels of beer and several bottles of wine you brought with you on the train delivered into the cellar. At least that place was in a perfect shape.

You are Frosty Mug, an aspiring earthpony bartender. You’re here to pour adventurers their drinks, listen to their stories, and clean their vomit off of your tables.

Table.

A broken one.

You couldn’t be happier.

But you still need to do some renovations. Immediately sounds like a good idea. Granted, you could have a rest after a painfully long train ride and start tomorrow, but you decide against it. If you clean up and get this place in semi-working order today, you can spend tomorrow by using your money wisely to buy some furniture, and if you get lucky you might even get your first customer. Some ponies and griffons did give you curious looks when you started prying the boards off of the main door.

Oh, and you mustn’t forget to replace the corner window. Thankfully, from outside it looked like the only casualty of some vandal stealing your not-yet-earned money.

Suddenly, you hear a creak from the staircase, but that’s the extent of it, no hoofsteps on anything else. It could just be the house making scary noises, but you haven’t checked upstairs yet, only knowing the layout from the floor plan and the description in the deed.

Come to think of it, this place does look perfect for some hobo to hide in.

Hoping your scary size is enough to ward off any possible criminal caught in the act, and ready to run outside as fast as you can and scream for the police if it isn't, you call out:

“Hey, show yourself!”

You have no idea if there is anypony there, but it never hurts to look smarter than you really are. There is no answer, but the floorboards creak softly. Again and again, creak after creak getting closer to the doorless entrance to the future bar.

“If you leave now, I won’t call the police!” you give it one more shot, trying to sound far more sure of yourself than you are.

“Grrwrrrr...” you hear a quiet growl before a black equine creature your size enters, carefully sniffing around before locking eyes with yours. It’s completely black, looks sinewy but fit, and has a mouth full of sharp teeth. Hmmm, perhaps you should have started with that one. Oh yeah, and talons on its forelegs instead of hooves… great.

A Corrupted? Inside the walled-off city? More importantly, inside your damn house? On your first day?! How unlucky could a single pony get?

You know about the Corrupted, creatures currently inhabiting most of Equestria’s surface and good chunks of Griffon Empire as well, but you have literally no hooves-on experience. Thankfully. Vanhoover was also a city with heavily guarded borders which didn’t allow any Corrupted in, but you do know that for example Manehattan is a metropolis where Corrupted and other races live in some strange kind of harmony, you also know that in Ponyville which is not too far west from here Corrupted are friendly and act as guards from their wild kin.

All that flies out of the window, and your legs turn to jelly when finally faced with one of these beings. They are supposed to be vastly faster than ponies, although their agility, especially in small spaces is debatable. They are insurmountably stronger and more durable, but they have their weak spots like eyes. Unfortunately, they also have many more senses, some contained within six leg-long tentacles growing from the creature’s back and swaying threateningly.

You don’t have much at your disposal - a saddlebag with deeds to the building, a full keyring, some spending money and sweet snacks, plastic water bottle, your personal documents, and a flashlight. Your big bag is lying behind the counter, but there isn’t much more in there other than spare clothes, the recipe books, a bottle of some allegedly amazing whiskey, and long-lasting crackers you’d rather use as building materials than food.

So, what now? Run in hope you can get outside? It’s not far, but you’re not fast and you don’t know about the Corrupted. Fight? Your punch does have weight behind it since you’re a big pony, and it might stun or at least confuse the creature to buy you some time. Or maybe something completely different?

Use your brain wisely, Frosty.

Author's Note

So, what'll it be? Will Frosty manage to get to pouring his first beer, or will the perspective earthpony fail in ever getting to hear about any mysteries?

Stop saying Frosty is a coward no matter how true it is!

Frosty Mug

Money: Does it really matter right now?

Fame: I’M GONNA DIE!

Status: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Few plans rush through your head in the second the creature takes its first step. Most of them involve running, some involve very brief heroism quickly followed by a significantly longer period of being dead. Your brain wins, though, leaving fighting Corrupted to adventurers. If the creatures ever discover they have taste for fine liquor, you’ll be there, but for now you’d rather be anywhere else. Time to get out and call pest control - i.e. somepony with a bazooka.

Like the giant pussy you are, literally in the former and figuratively in the latter part of the description, you spin around and bolt towards the bar counter to get your stuff, wishing you had something to slow the Corrupted down, but the only table is too far away.

“Grraawrg!” you hear behind you the moment your hooves thud on the wooden floor. Aside from the creaking of wood, that’s pretty much it, though. The creature is either making next to no noise, or isn’t moving. You sure as Tartarus aren’t going to turn your head and look.

Your answer comes anyway as you trip on a loose floorboard, but amazingly manage to turn the incoming roll into a power slide behind the bar.

Wait, why are you here again? Why didn’t you just run towards the door since all you have in your bag are copies of documents and stuff you can fairly easily replace?

None of that matters as the counter you’re hiding behind creaks under new weight. The Corrupted’s talons scratch deep grooves into it when it pulls itself upwards onto the surface, watching you with a toothy grin.

An excellent followup idea crosses your mind. It’s amazing how well your brain works under pressure. From your bag, you pull out the sturdiest item you can find - your dad’s bottle of whiskey. You saw this in the movies all the time - really good alcohol catches on fire easily.

“Dear princess Luna’s plot, guide my hoof and shine thick, jiggly, and bright in my dreams!”

Quickly unscrewing the cap, you grab the bottle with both forelegs, and lob it as hard as you can at the Corrupted.

“Ha haa! Eat fire, you feral bastard!” you call out victoriously as the heavy glass bottle smacks the Corrupted straight in its muzzle and bounces off into the air, still amazingly in one piece.

Then you realize you have absolutely nothing even remotely related to flames, burning, sparks, or other dictionary entries for fire.

So much for being a genius when in a tight corner...

The Corrupted shakes its head, letting go of the counter and keeling over backwards. You’re halfway to celebrating, but you manage to stop yourself and keep your cool. If those things were so easy to get rid of, they wouldn’t have taken over the whole surface of Equestria and wiped out most of the pony race centuries ago.

Anyway, if there ever was a good time to get out after your blown chance earlier, it’s now. With your main bag held in your teeth, you rush from behind the counter with the clear intention of legging it.

As you leave your hiding place, you spot a black blur from the corner of your eye aiming for your shins, or where your shins would be were you a normal-sized pony. Due to that mistake on the Corrupted’s part, you manage to jump high enough to avoid the swipe, jerk your head sideways, and let the bag in your teeth go.

You don’t wait for anything after hearing the smack.

Well, you DO open the door outside instead slamming into it in hopes it gives way. After all, it swings inside and is pretty much the sturdiest part of the building itself, including the masonry.

Sweet, sweet outside air of the street. Oh how you missed it!

Time to find the nearest police station and-

“HEEEEEEEEEEELP! THERE’S A CORRUPTED IN MY HOUSE. HEEEEELP!”

Screaming like crazy is also an option.

Apparently, just like back in Vanhoover, warnings like these aren’t taken lightly here in Pine Hills. A group of mercenary-looking griffons passing by draw their various ranged and melee weapons. A bearded unicorn in a long dark blue robe on the other side of the road levitating a heavy staff next to him teleports with a snap right next to you.

They don’t pressure you, one griffon merc only asks:

“Inside?”

You nod.

As he takes the first step forward, air in front of him blurs, and like a living shadow or smoke, a changeling materializes out of thin air. She is smaller than everyone involved, reaching up to your chest even with her little horn, bears short grey mane which is something you haven’t seen from her kind in their original forms, and her chitin is dotted with tiny bronze specks in places. She has normal eyes too, although still blue, cool.

“Back off,” she says calmly, and to your surprise the rough mercenaries and the wizard clearly getting ready to cast some horribly apocalyptic magic stop. Then they turn away to leave without as much as a word.

“Uhh, miss, thanks for the help, but shouldn’t you let those guys deal with the situation? They looked a bit more… threatening than you. No offense,” you look down at the changeling.

She gives you a raised eyebrow, shakes her head, and enters your future bar.

“Well that’s new,” you hear from inside, and despite your complete lack of desire to go back, you peek through the open door.

The Corrupted is lying inside a wide hearth which at some point had to be used to warm the whole room up, curled around your backpack…

...and holding an empty whiskey bottle with its back tentacles, attempting to shake some more liquid into its mouth.

It gives you and the strange changeling lady a curious look as you both come closer, and goes:

“Blrlblrlb...”

“Hmm, I’ve never seen a Corrupted go for normal food or drink...” she mumbles to herself, “All they usually eat are their concentrated berries. Oh… could it be the high sugar content and thus energy value of liquor?” she turns her head to you, “Alright, don’t get in the way. I’ll deal with this.”

You are quite lost right now. One one hoof, the Corrupted tried to eat you… you think. On the other, you really don’t like violence. You could simply leave, write off the documents and clothes in the backpack now used by the Corrupted as a pillow, and sort out new ones in the Pine Hills bank. After all, you still have your identification in the smaller pouch around your neck. You don’t know who the changeling is, but she sure as hay looks far more suited to dealing with the situation than you are. Anyway, it’s not like there’s anything to steal around here other than the meager beer and wine supplies in the cellar. You could also inquire more about the situation since you are new in town and have pretty much no clue what’s going on. On the off chance that the sudden stress damaged your brain, there’s always the option of letting the Corrupted stay, try to buy it some more booze, and eventually use it to lure customers in. That way you might prevent the possible splattering of the brave changeling all over the walls. She does look sure of herself, but she’s even smaller than a normal pony.

Or, you know, some even more inventive plan. If there is something you’ve always been proud off, it’s your imagination.

So, what’ll it be, Frosty?

Author's Note

(Currently waiting for further prompt)

Just to add, any questions not aimed at me will be what Frosty asks to eventually get to know the city of Pine Hills which he'll need to gain renown in order to stabilize and grow his business, or to gain information useful for his guests' quests.

Anyway, are we actually getting to update 3?