Shadowmere

"By Sithis, that was the best sleep I've had in a while." Shadowmere stretched and rolled off the stack of crates he had been sleeping on.

It was a beautiful red dawn, just the way he liked them in Tamriel. It didn't translate as 'Dawn's Beauty' for nothing.

He glanced around, looking for Nightwing. He spotted the Night Guardsman snoozing away on a pile of cake mix sacks, and being the slightly evil horse that he was, used the Wabbaspear to tug the sack out from under him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Euuuuurgh, what did ya do that for?" Nightwing moaned from the floor. "It's not even dawn yet..."

"Open your eyes, and I think you'll find it is."

Nightwing opened his eyes and was momentarily blinded by the sunlight.

"Well, it appears it is. This is way too early for me..."

"And?"

"Well played, Shadowmere, well played." Nightwing got to his hooves, checking his armour was still firmly on. "Now that you've prevented me from having my usual five-hour lie-in, what in Tartarus are we going to do now?"

"How am I supposed to know, I've spent most of my time wandering around Tamriel, remember? With nothing to do but think?"

"And I've spent half my life in a guard barracks and the other half doing various things involving flying?"

Shadowmere sighed. "You win this round. Let's go find Connor, it's always entertaining to watch a drunk half-Nord half-Redguard wake up."

Nightwing looked at him with a confused expression. "What could be so entertaining about watching somepony wake up?"

Shadowmere laughed for the second time in a week, a new record. "You'll see."

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Connor groaned. He really had to remember not to mix Sleeping/Hist Tree Sap into his Ale along with Skooma next time. Sure, the Argonians issued the stuff to their troops like it was water, but they were Argonians. Not half-Nord, half-Redguard mercenaries who couldn't decide what race they were.

He opened his eyes, and was immediately bombarded by the mass of colours that Sleeping Tree Sap left as a after effect. The fact it was a very useful healing potion countered this massive downside, however. Or at least in his opinion.

The mass of colours faded, revealing a solid mass of brown. Had he fallen out of bed while drunk, or simply decided that the floor would be comfy enough?

He pushed himself up somewhat awkwardly, vision still blurred, before he fell to the floor. Sighing in defeat, he rolled over instead, revealing the bright wooden ceiling of the library rather that the basements black wood ceiling.

Great, all he needed now was a audience to watch him...

He cursed as he heard the door open and the sound of two sets of hooves entering.

He sighed. Whatever you least wanted to happen, always happened. Hopefully it wasn't anyone too important.

"Are you sure this is going to be fun, Shadowmere?" Was that Nightwing? Connor couldn't tell in his drunken state.

"For us, yes. Connor, not so much..."

Brilliant. Now Shadowmere and that Captain who had been the target of a shouting match target yesterday were watching him get up.

Now, Nords are famous for their inability to suffer from hangovers. Unfortunately, they were drunk for twice as long as usual before they passed out. Redguards were the opposite, not being able to get drunk but having massive hangovers.

Connor, being a half-breed, suffered from both massive drunken sprees of looting and the hangovers which followed. But part of the fun was fixing all the mess that you'd caused while suffering from a hangover.

Connor tried to sit up, failed, and ended up head butting the floor instead. Unsheathing his claymore from its scabbard on his back and grasping it in his right hand, Connor stabbed the sword into the floorboard before using it to rise to his feet.

"Wad ar you two whachin dats so funny?" Connor slurred as he leaned on the pommel of his claymore. "Wa am I speakin to some horses? Horses can't speak, dat was just da skooma. Or was it...."

"I still don't see anything funny about this." Nightwing whispered to Shadowmere.

"Just wait until someone else shows up... We might even get Sanguine to show up, and that would be funny. "

"Who's Sanguine?"

"You'll find out later."

Connor staggered away from his sword over to a wall, which he leaned back on. "By da Nine, dat skooma was strong to last this long... Why do I feel so angry..."

The sound of hoof beats on the stairs echoed into the library.

"Here we go..." Shadowmere muttered to himself.

Connor got up from his position against the wall, drunkenly ran across the room, pulled his claymore and adopted a fighting stance as Celestia appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Blood for the Blood God!" Connor screamed out as he charged up the stairs.

Celestia stood still for a moment in shock as her eyes registered the angry man charging at her before her battle reflexes kicked in.

Connor made a wide swing with his claymore, attempting to decapitate Celestia, but she ducked under the blow and slammed her head into Connor's chest, throwing him to the ground, out cold.

"What was that for?" Celestia asked Shadowmere and Nightwing as she walked down the stairs.

"It's called being drunk and/or high at the same time..." Shaowmere smiled slightly.

"Does he do that often?"

"Everyone who's a mercenary does it. So, yes."

Celestia sighed. "I must break that habit of his before he injures himself or any of my little ponies..."

Shadowmere laughed in response. "Gold luck with that Princess, separating a half-Nord from his drink is like trying to fight a dragon with a fork."

A confused look appeared on the faces of the other two ponies.

"What? Someone made a bet with the Dragonborn that he couldn't kill a dragon with only a fork and shouts."

"Let's just... Forget about this, shall we? We have a council of war to organise." Celestia said, groaning about how she couldn't have a lie-in.