A night at the bed and breakfast

It was rather chilly and wet on this night. Chilly enough that one pony whom usually spent his nights outside was forced to find shelter for a warm night of sleep. The rain was light but the cold made it worse.

A middle aged pony with dirty worn down cloak felt tempted to look for another more outdoor friendly shelter, but the bed and breakfast on the road to Canterlot would have to do. Silver Spur looked up at the sign.

The Dagger's Scabbard... He shook his head at the name. It only made him more weary of the place. At least it was far enough out of Ponyville to keep himself out of the spotlight. With the bounty on his head, he could not let himself settle in the middle of a populated area for a night.

He opened the door and let himself in, quickly scanning the room for other ponies and taking in a measure of the room. Once satisfied, he shook off his cloak and hung it up where he could before shaking his hat of any water. Just as quickly as he did, he put it back on and kept the brim low enough to keep any ponies present from getting a good look at his face. Now with his cloak off, one could see he was a pegasus. He sported a western looking vest to compliment his hat. Most notable was the sheathed katana at his side under his wing.

He approached the counter, spurs on his hind legs ringing with each step, until he was just short of hoof reach of it.

"....One night please." He said in a deep rumbling voice that was deceptive to his rather thin light frame.

Rain tapped gently against the windows. Every so often the wind would pick up, making a small howl. However cold it was outside could not be felt within. The insulation in the walls kept the inn at a perfect temperature for most of the year, regardless of how hot or cold it became outside.

There was something stirring in the kitchen. A kettle hissed and whistled, a pot of stew bubbled slowly, and a clatter could be heard from the sink. All the guests had left in the day before, seemingly knowing how bad the weather was going to be. Or more likely, they were sick of Fencer's mediocre cooking.

Fencer shuffled back and forth, stirring the stew every so often, then returning to his dishes. He could hear the kettle whistling, but knew it wasn't ready yet. That old kettle on this old stove top liked to play tricks. It had taken him a few years to figure them out. Fencer finished off the last plate, just in time to take the pot off the stove.

Seeing the bad weather outside, and knowing how well hidden the inn was, any other pony would close shop. Fencer was a bit of an optimist however. He had placed some signs up on the road several days ago, they seemed to have worked so far.

Armed with an inflated pride and positive outlook, Fencer made sure to be prepared for anything. All the rooms were tidied up and organized, the bathrooms were spotless, food prepared, et cetera, et cetera.

The small chime of the bell signaled the arrival of a guest; it seemed Lady Luck was working with Fencer. Setting the everything else down, washcloth in the sink, and stew on the counter, he made his way over to the clerk counter, exiting the kitchen.

A pony had walked in, Fencer gave him a once over. Sporting a western look, this pony seemed a little out of place. Grey body, spurs on his hind feet, a dark mane... Wings. A Pegaus. Fencer breathed in deeply. Of all the ponies he hoped not to meet, Pegasi were at the top of his list.

Before his mind could wander, Fencer's eyes fell on the one thing more out of place than this western looking pony. A katana? Fencer didn't know whether to be giddy or cautious. His face remained still however, he was never one to show much emotion.

"....One night please."

He had heard the other pony speak. A deep voice, not what Fencer was expecting. Still, it's not like Fencer was paying much attention. He was still thinking of the sword.

Recollecting himself, he responded.
"That will be 100 bits, sir."

Fencer began flipping through sign-in his book, prepared to record all the necessary information.

"I'll also need a name. For my records, you know?"

Silver was not too happy to hear that price. Nor that a name was needed. He snorted and frowned at the pony.

"100 bits?" He grumbled. "I ain't go no 100 bits. Nicer places in town go for 80." He tilted his head back, just enough to make eye contact with the pony. Now that he had a close look at him, he began to second guess the nature of this establishment.

He had clearly been in a number of fights. Fights that he got banged up in a lot. Probably from over a long period of time with the number of scars he had. And they appeared to be in the nature of slicing motions. Silver guessed they were other ponies with blades or a very exotic animal he was not aware of.

This put his awareness on another level as this pony was likely no stranger to combat. If he knew anything about bounty hunting and of outlaw infamy, there was no way he could give his name. His own cutie mark was practically his signature. With caution, he continued, hoping he was none the wiser.

"You can have my name when our business is concluded, but 100 bits is robbery." He angled his stance, quartering toward with his sword on the far side from Fencer.

Fencer watched as the dark pegasus took a slightly more defensive stance. It wasn't a full out combat stance, but more akin to a standby pose.

He could feel his guest scanning him. Fencer had seen this before, but back then it was his masters who gave him this look. He remained still, trying to read his would-be guest. His eyes were a light blue, they seemed icy and cold. There was something else though... this pegasus had experience. That katana was not for show, it's hilt alone gave away it's years of use.

A grin crept onto Fencer's face. As much as he would like to get some business done, he was itching to test this mysterious Pony in combat.

Don't be a fool. He's got more experience than you do. Fencer's conscience worked hard to convince him.

Besides, if you fight him here, you'll lose the only job you've ever had. What pony would hire a swordsman? Hmm? You'd just end up becoming some merc or good!

Fencer almost shuttered at the thought. If there was one thing he disliked most, it was senseless violence. Yet, how easy was it for him to go down that path? Too easy, he was on it right now!

With a sigh, he shut his book.

"Alright, 100 may be a wee bit much. So I'll make you a deal." Fencer waited to see how this mystery pony would respond.

Silver hardly did anything more than blink as he kept his gaze on this pegasus. After a few moments silence, Silver figured that he was waiting for a response. He let himself fall back a step and tilt his head in a more relaxed manner.

"...And what might that be?" An ear of his went up to listen to what he had to say. His cold stare lightened up just little, showing some very slight curious interest.

If there was anything Silver liked, it was getting a few bits. And right now, paying less for an Inn would mean that many more bits for later.

Fencer's grin widened. Even if it would net him less bits, his curiosity might just be satisfied.

"I'll charge you 65 bits if..." Fencer suddenly leapt over the counter, gliding over to the nearest closet. Swinging the door open, he retrieved his sabre.

The blade was well kept, very shap and fine. However the hilt was new, giving the weapon a air of virginity. It was a well crafted weapon, the curve of the blade making it excellent for slicing. Also, with such a small handle, it was obviously meant to be one handed sword.

"... You can prove yourself."

Fencer took a defensive stance. All he needed was one hit, one hit would tell him more than words ever could.

"Do you accept, stranger?" Fencer's competitive side was showing, something that didn't happen often.

Silver readied a defensive stance, almost drawing his blade on Fencer as he leapt over the counter so suddenly. As he busied himself with the closet, Silver quickly moved to put the entrance to his back so that he could quickly bolt out if need be.

He was almost dumbfounded. A challenge? For sport? Entertainment? Silver had not seen or heard of such sword sport since his last time being over seas. That trip itself was a long story. A story he did not like to recall.

This did tell him that this pony here was likely unaware of his current wanted status. But a fight with an all to eager pony that was younger than him and looked to have plenty of sword fights sounded rather risky. Risks usually is what gets you killed or caught. Two things Silver did not want.

He stared at Fencer, eyes narrow, carefully measuring him up. Finally, he relaxed and shook his head. "I think I will find myself another place to stay with less fight inclined ponies." He turned to leave, getting to the door and looking out at the dark rainy sky.

".....Make it 40 and its a deal." Then again, risks could save him some bits.

Fencer's excitement shifted to disappointment in a matter of moments. He had been itching to lock blades just once with this mystery pony. Yet it seemed his eagerness had the wrong effect.

There was a sudden shuffling from the floor above. Hoofsteps, making their way toward the stairs. Who ever was upstairs seemed to be moving quickly. Each step was like a boom of thunder. Fencer's face went pale, eyes widening, as if some terrible fate was about to befall him.

In the time it took for him to re-sheathe his blade, Fencer's worst nightmares came to be. Chic Runner stormed down the stairs, her eyes automatically falling on Fencer. She was furious. If there was one thing Runner didn't like about Fencer, it how poor of an Innkeeper he was.

Oh crap. Oh crap. Oh crap. Fencer could not think. He knew it was over. No matter how disciplined his mind was, he couldn't help but forget everything when he saw a worthy opponent. However, he knew Runner better than ANYONE, and he also knew she took running this inn very seriously.

Chic Runner glided next to Fencer, her eyes shouting her disapproval. Fencer didn't have a chance to speak, not that he would have anyway. He knew was she was going to say, so Runner remained silent.

She turned away from her cohort and looked to the potential Guest. The fire in her eyes still present. She gave off an air of intimidation.

"Please excuse my partner" She smiled sweetly as she spoke, nudging Fencer in the ribs after the word partner. "He can be excitable at time."

Fencer rubbed the back of his mane, looking apologetic.

"Now then, what say we get you a room for the night, hmm? 50 bits, and a free meal. We won't even ask for your name~!" Chic Runner did her best to repair the situation. Still, she wasn't too hopeful about how this would turn out.

Silver held still through most the ordeal. He observed Fencer's reaction, grinning slightly as he was outranked in the matter. Silver immediately relaxed, feeling that these ponies were not much to worry about.

"Sounds like a fair enough deal." He said and moved to the couch to get comfortable. He fished around for his bits under his wing in his vest, shyly revealing the handle of something underneath, but neither of the two had much a good look aside from that. Silver produced fifty bits and set them on the coffee table.

"Call me what you want. I'm just passing through." He pulled out a cigarette from his vest and used his spurs to light a match. This place seemed remote enough to him and was located off of Canterlot enough that he just might use this place more. With the odd jobs he picked up on and moved around, he could save some special occasions for it.

"...Got anything to drink?" He said from under the brim of his hat, puffing out smoke.

Fencer was always impressed by how easily Runner could resolve situations like this. Maybe this is why he kept her around, or maybe it was something else. Regardless, he regained his focus and retrieved the new guest's payment.

He stole a glance at Chic Runner. She had her Get-Back-in-the-Kitchen face on.

Fencer did as he was silently told, returning to his post and finishing dinner preparations. Chic Runner on the other hand made her way to the freezer at the other end of the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of Vodka.

"I hope this is okay." Runner spoke as she poured the drink into two 3 Oz. glasses. She placed them on a tray with the bottle and carried it over to the dark pony. Carefully, she placed the tray down on the table in front of her guest.

"Please, enjoy your stay." Chic Runner smiled in her kind way, before turning back to the kitchen. "Oh," She turned her head back, "And dinner will be ready in five minutes."

Fencer busied himself with preparing some tea. His water had finally boiled perfectly, and was ready to be poured into the teacups. He may not be the best at cooking, but he had learned to make a half decent cup of tea in his travels.

He poked around the cabinet for a while, taking inventory while he looked for teabags. He was running low on earl grey. A trip to town would be a good idea after the storm passed.

Silver billowed out more smoke as the shot glasses were put before him. He would have preferred whiskey, but alcohol in general was good enough. He picked up the vodka and sniffed it before shooting the whole glass in one go.

He let out a gruff sigh, relaxing on the couch after a long day of traveling. Silver offer no words in reply to either of them, simply smoking and letting his hat cover his eyes. It seemed he was hardly one to start a conversation, preferring to keep to himself. He had to admit to himself though, they provided better service than most the places he saw out in the west.

Finally finished with preparations, Fencer exited the kitchen carrying his own cup of tea. He set himself down on the sofa adjacent to his guest. He got himself cozy, setting his tea down on the table afterward.

He watched his guest puff smoke every now and again. Fencer wasn't one for smoking, and the inn had a policy against smoking the in the presence of children. However since Runner and himself were the only other ponies here, Fencer didn't bother to mention it.

He sipped his tea. Earl Grey, one of his preferred blends. The only tea he liked more was Green Tea, however Chic had used the last of it the other day.

Fencer made a mental note to buy some more when he went into town, along with the other blends he counted before that were running low.

The silence seemed to drag on, time slowed. Chic Runner's hoofsteps, and the clatter of plates were the only sounds in the room for a time. Fencer's eyes scanned the room, hoping to find something interesting to fixate one. Sadly, the only thing in the room he could focus on was his guest's armament.

Deciding to force some other conversation, Fencer cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"So..." He began poorly, "Which way were you headed, before the rain caught you?"

Silver looked up at Fencer for a moment before leaning forward and taking the other shot glass and draining it. Usually in his calming hours, Silver preferred to be alone and reflect, but here he was forced with company. He wouldn't admit it, but he never had anyone be a host for his company in so long that he really was not sure how he should handle it. The alcohol was helping him cope with the uncertainty though.

"....Not sure." He finally answer. "Been hopping towns, looking for some work. Certain kinds of work." While he felt hesitant to go on telling these ponies where he might be headed, his relaxed mind was reminded that they still did not have his name.

"And why has a pony like you decided to settle?" The questioning quickly turned back the other way. If Silver was going to be social, as bad at it as he may be, he would get his fair share back from Fencer. To him, a pony with scars and swordsmanship is not earned sitting still, but moving about, much like Silver does.

Fencer had been asked this once before, by Chic Runner no less. At that time he had had no answer, though the circumstances were slightly different. Back then she had asked him why he chose to leave Cloudsdale.

Fencer reminisced momentarily, that day had been sunny, but inside himself it had been a terrible storm. The things that were said, the things he had done, and what had been done to him. His wings had remained mostly closed since then. A reminder of his sins. A reminder of what he had failed to stop.

Fencer sipped more tea, relaxing his mind, repressing the memories with great effort. One day he would have to deal with this, but not tonight.

"A long time ago," Fencer starred into nothingness, allowing this memory to play out in his mind. "I was traveling all over Equestria."

He sighed, taking a moment to remember clearly. "I had met a Stallion, he promised me my dreams come true. I followed, naturally. We went to so many places, I met so many teachers."

He recalled some of them "There was one pony in Manehattan. He taught Fencing, funny huh? Well, I went to some of his classes and he saw how good I was. So naturally he took me under his wing, so to speak. At the end he was so proud of me, he gave me one of his swords." Fencer looked up a the ceiling, in the direction of his room.

"Another teacher I met in Fillydelphia, he came from the middle east. It was hard to understand him with his accent, but his actions spoke volumes. His style was like art. I had never seen anypony use a Scimitar like him. At the end he chose 3 of us, two others and I, as candidates to take over when he retired." Fencer let a tear run down his cheek. He sipped some more tea.

"He died saving some ponies in a fire. The one in charge of his school now is a good friend of mine. The other pony, she left, like I did... See this scar?" He pointed to his chin, trying hard to repress the memory. He had left out a critical detail in his story, but wasn't about to give it up.

"I wasn't paying attention to my training. I was distracted by a mare passing by. Ended up cutting myself with my own blade. Heh. Never got to find out her name though. She was a cutie." She had been quite beautiful. A mother of 2, yet she retained her youthful appearance. Fencer DID have an affair with her once, but again, he would rather leave this out. Still, it was a sin he acknowledged and carried with him.

He shook his head, as if was shaking the memories away. He had droned on for several minutes now, and only just realized it. Runner had always said she knew how to run his mouth. Even when he didn't mean to.

"Sorry for the long story. But to answer your original question, after going around and training with all these ponies, I realized something. All their styles and the skills they taught me were fantastic in their own way, but... I needed something else. Something new, and personal. And eventually, I got just that.

I made my own style." Fencer stopped, though he had to force himself to. His style was still incomplete, he needed to develop it more and hone it. And he could finish it, Fencer's style would have to remain that way.

Silver considered letting out a very audible sigh and try to shut him out on his long winded answer, but he refrained and listened. While it was mildly amusing and mostly not too interesting to Silver, he could relate. Barely.

"Mares....They will do that...Maybe even try to kill you." Silver stared off for a bit, reflecting on how his life changed because of a mare. His face showed signs of anguish. It took him a few moments to pull himself back out.

Silver took the bottle and poured himself another two shot glasses of vodka. "So...You like swords." He said, moving onto a different subject. One of his hooves played with a harmonica that hung from around his neck.

Fencer caught the look on his guest's face. He had never seen it before, but he had made a face like that once. Some part on him wanted to push the subject, but with Chic Runner nearby, and great restraint, made him give up on that topic... for now.

Suddenly he noticed the harmonica. Fencer had been blind to it until now.

"I like swords yes. But that harmonica of yours... I take it you play?" Fencer was focused on the object, very similar to when he had seen the Katana. He didn't play any instruments, but the harmonica was an item not often seen.

If Fencer thought Silver's previous expression was troubled, he showed a clear wincing at the mention of the harmonica. Silver immediately looked down to hide his eyes before taking another shot glass and downing it.

"....That I do..." Silver said dryly, sounding distant. There apparently was a lot of memories attached to this harmonica of his. "...It belonged to a pony I knew."

For Silver, he never talked like this to another pony in a long time. Later, he would probably blame it on the alcohol, or that this pony was some magic gypsie. But there was one thing he would not try think about at his older age. That being what his life amounted up to.

In his discomforted state, he reached into his vest and produced another cigarette.

Fencer again took notice of the look on his guest's face. Something must have troubled him. A memory? Or maybe it was something else? Either way, Fencer could not stop himself from asking his next question. He was likely to regret this moment.

"Then" He began, too eagerly, "Could you play a little bit, please?"

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Chic Runner was putting the finishing touches on the stew. She had been reheating it, since it had gotten cold.

Silver grumbled and looked away. The idea of playing by request did not sit well with him. Sometimes he wondered why he carried the damn thing. He was by no means a very musical pony at all.

"...Rather not. I only know one song." He reached for the bottle again but nearly knocked it over. That was evidence enough to him to stop.....after he poured this one last glass.

"This harmonica is no gift." He mumbled, taking his glass and lazily sipping it. His motor skills beginning to show some signs of clumsiness.

Fencer was ready to press the topic further. He noticed ponies seemed more inclined to share whenever they have ingested sufficient alcohol. Opening his unrestrained mouth he began to formulate his next question.

"Well, Care to tell how you-"

By some miracle, Chic Runner began clinking her cowbell. Her own amusing way of letting the guests know that dinner was ready. Also occasionally using it to drown out Fencer's shameless questioning.

"Dinner is ready!" she called out, making it clear what the pounding of the bell was meant to signify.

Fencer groaned, partially annoyed at the fact that he'd been cut off in his questioning. He gulped down the rest of tea, and slowly rose from his seat. Ushering for his guest to follow him to the table.

Silver grumbled to himself as he hoisted himself up to his hooves. He just about fell over after a few moments of stumbling. Once back in balance, he played it off like it was nothing and slowly trotted behind Fencer into the dinning room.

He was very careful in seating himself, trying to not let on he was intoxicated beyond walking straight. Though his occasional leaning and jolts to correct might say otherwise.

He waited patiently for dinner and the sobriety it would encourage.

Fencer attempted to assist Runner with serving dinner, he was met with a fierce stare and a quick "sit down!". He took his place at the head of the table.

Chic runner pushed a trolley out of the kitchen, three bowls of hot stew arranged neatly on top. The table had been set earlier, spoons and a napkins in front of each place, even if they were empty. Runner moved quickly, placing a bowl of stew before the guest, then Fencer, and finally where she would be sitting. Finished with serving, she set the trolley aside and sat down at Fencer's left.

Fencer joined his forelegs together, making a small CLOP sound.

"I give thanks for this meal, which Chic put her effort into making, and for our guest who is joining us tonight." Fencer finished saying grace, a small habit of his before every meal.

Silver offered no prayers. Not even an attempt to put his hooves together was made. He went right on to the soup.

He took his cigarrette out of his mouth and put it out on his tongue before setting it aside on the table. Oddly enough, rather than use the spoon, he picked up the bowl with two hooves and sipped from it. Either he had no real manners for proper Equestrian eating habits, or it was a 'culture thing.' While the soup was good, he hoped there would be something more solid to stave off the alcohol faster. He would have to tolerate it for now.

Fencer took notice of his guest's prayer, or rather the lack of one. He said nothing, however, it didn't bother him. Every pony was different, with different habits and their own unique ways. Fencer kept silent, he would respect his guest.

Runner dug right into her meal, somehow devouring her stew at a ridiculous pace. Not a drop escaped her vacuum mouth. Although it was delicious, Runner felt that something was missing. The stew had more liquid than anything. A problem she had attempted to solve earlier by cutting up the ingredients into smaller cubes. Sadly, it did not seem to work out too well.

Chic Runner was about to go back to the kitchen, but as she turned to leave her seat, Fencer was standing there. He had gone into the kitchen just now, and was holding a dinner basket of freshly sliced bread loaf.

"Wha...? How-? When did you...?!" Runner was caught off guard, it was as if Fencer had read her mind. He smiled at her, placing the bread on the table.

"I just wanted some bread, so I brought some out for the three of us." He replied, his eyes moving from Runner to his guest, then back to her.

Silver smirked. These two worked in funny ways. Most the interactions he got lately were at the bars or poker tables, neither of which had very interesting ponies.

The soup could have been better, but still was on the more fine side of eats he had lately. Living outdoors had very limited options for tasty variety though. Silver thought that boiling the soup longer would have solved the watered down issue easy enough.

Silver did not wait long for his bread though, and quickly swiped up some with an outstretched wing.

"Thanks..." He said coolly, suppressing a smile.