MLP : Shattered Heart

One : The Everfree

Most ponies know of the Everfree Forest, the most cutthroat and savage forest in all of Equestria, despite its small size. They know of it as the place where a pony can get eaten by a hundred kinds of predators and fifty kinds of carnivorous plants. If you don't know what you're doing, you'll be something's dinner before you can take twenty steps in.

What most ponies don't know is the town of The Everfree nestled somewhere deep in its heart, with a population just as savage as the forest which surrounds it. Or, at least, ponies who presume themselves just as savage. It's a little settlement of thieves, marauders, and mercenaries who need a place to operate where they cannot be easily touched. In other words, it was a place for ponies just like me.

But really, if you're the kind of pony who belongs here, it's not so bad once you get used to it. Sure, there might be a fight breaking out every few minutes... maybe a killing every now and again to keep things exciting... and maybe the ponies here tend to drink more alcohol than water... and maybe every bar and pawn shop constantly smells of vomit and blood... alright, so maybe it is kind of bad. But you get used to it. That's just the cost of living free in this world of ours. If you want to stay out of the king's reach, you'd better get used to sharing your space with the criminal scum of Equestria. Because, well, you're one of them.

I found myself at one such bar, The Muck and Buck Tavern, just zoning out and taking in all the delightful atmosphere around me. Not with drinks, though; I didn't drink. I couldn't, not when I needed to pay attention and listen for things that would be in my best interest to overhear.

A waitress mare with a poofy red mane trotted past me, delivering beverages to a rowdy table of stallions. One of them tipped her with a nice, solid slap to the flank. A moment later, he found himself on the floor with a black eye. Guess it was his day to learn that even the pretty faces around here are hardy enough to stand their ground. At the table beside them, a buck was fast asleep in a pool of his own vomit. Two tables down, a fight broke out at a poker table as a griffon whipped out a pistol and accused a minotaur of card-counting. A couple of tables and chairs were broken before the red-headed mare was at the griffon's neck with a cutlass.

Heh. Good girl. I cast her a little grin of admiration, though I know she'd never see. It was good that someone had the balls to keep the peace around here. The bartender certainly wasn't going to do it. I glanced over at him, a scraggly old pony with antlers. Yep, antlers. On a pony. Obviously another victim of the month of Chaos, the month of the year where King Sombra releases Discord into the wild and lets him do whatever the hell he wants... create paradoxes, make it rain dead alicorns from the sky, turn ponies into chess pieces... Or make them grow antlers. Whatever Discord fancies in that twisted mind of his at the time, it happens. I would say it happens once per year, but really that's only the average... King Sombra can spring it on us anytime he wants with no warning. He says it's to keep things interesting and to keep ponies in fear of his reign, but I bet it's because he needs to keep Discord placated for when he's back on the leash.

So, yeah... antlers on a pony were one of the tamer mutations I've seen. And they weren't worth shit for self-defense. They only served to make him look like a bigger freak than he already was. He even broke off most of one a few weeks ago, when he tried to stop a fight while the cutlass mare had a day off. I'm pretty sure the only reason he's not dead yet is because he can mix a good drink, and because everyone feels sorry for him. Honestly, I'd say he doesn't belong in this town, but what do I know? Maybe pity-mongering is just his survival strategy, and that's completely valid... it is pretty impossible to pull off in a town like this, and to be honest, I'm not exactly sure how he does it.

But believe it or not, I'm here for a reason, and it isn't just to watch bar fights break out for my amusement, or to take in the familiar stench of alcohol and desperation. I'm here because I'm greedy. I want things that other ponies have. In particular, their secrets. And secrets have a funny way of flowing free around these parts, where ponies wouldn't expect someone like me to be listening.