>Already day 88 in Equestria
>It’s past midnight and you are scooting  through Low Canterlot streets, in search of Quake’s pub. By this time, roads are fairly clear and few p0nies walk in the pitch black darkness, briefly interrupted in some places by barely functioning street lampposts and the open doors of taverns and nightclubs.
>You are Anon, and you’ve had a really crazy evening.
>It’s not every day that you get to crash-meet, quite literally, another member of Equestrian Royalty and then risk being stomped twice, first by a bunch of Canterlot pricks, then by a group of Cloudsdale tourists.
>After the incident in the park, you went straight for some relax and dinner to the Montmare Café, a kinda bohemian place in the limits of the city, perfect for the outcasts and weirdos of Classy Town that don’t sit very well with the general idiosyncrasy of canterlotian society. There you can find eccentric artists, political activists, stoned philosophers and, occasionally, drunken students from Canterlot University.
>Used to that kind of customers, the Montmare it’s also the one and only place in High Canterlot where they don’t refuse to serve you and also where the best hotdogs…ok,  the best vegetarian hotdogs in all of Equestria are made.
 
>Well, the menu of the Café says “Tofu Roll Sandwich”, but damn you if you were going to call them that. To you, those things were, are and forever will be called hotdogs. And, besides, after you paid the Café p0nies a few visits, maybe three or more likely twelve, they quickly caught up with the term and stopped giving you weird looks whenever they took your order.
>Anyways, after a few more minutes of lonely racing in the slums, you arrive at the pub and step off your board before packing it back into your bag. Dim yellowish light filters from a small window and, although muffled by the thick pub door, you can make out the sounds of drunken singing, laughter, shouts, glass breaking and ale being spilled.
>You take a few steps towards the entrance, but, before entering, you hold your hand out and rest it on the wooden frame of the door, still thinking about what you’re going to do. Tonight you accept Quake’s offer and begin to work here, at the pub. Although you say to yourself that it’s only for a while, just to pay that fine, maybe you’ll end up liking it and decide that working isn’t so bad after all.    
>It almost makes you feel bad that you took time to consider your friend’s offer only after you found yourself in this trouble, but, who can really blame you? After spending most of your adult life on Earth running smoothly on government’s allowance, much like many other Earth citizens, you felt an almost innate revulsion at the idea of working. Maybe this was what you needed, a little push to make you change your old habits and ways of thinking.  
>With that in mind, you push open the door and step inside the pub. Fortunately for you, the ceiling of many taverns, like this one, is always high enough for you to walk straight, although with just a few inches of free space above your head. It’s a relief these guys are not fans of pendant lamps and ceiling fans.
 
>Before you there’s a veritable sea of wooden tables and chairs where p0nies of every description are doing their very best trying to outlive their livers. The ambient is gloomy, only lit by a few magic light bulbs set on the walls, providing shadowy corners for those who prefer a “little privacy” in their revels. The floor, even if the pub has been opened just an hour ago, is already littered in some places with passed-out p0nies, empty glasses and jars, and liquid pools of ale, vomit and…you’d prefer not to know what’s that, but judging by its faintly musky odor, you’d lie if you said you have no idea. Damn, there are corners for that sort of things, you slutty mares!
>You begin to make your way through the patrons and towards the bar, greeting, handshaking and brohoofing many nice p0nies along the way. They receive you with shouts and some drunken cheering. After all, you are kind of a local celebrity here.
>”Watch out, here he comes!”
>”The craziest motherbucker in town!”
>”Anon, whassup?!”
>”Yeah, how’s it going, big monkey?!”
“Doing good, bros. Just gonna chill out a little bit”
>”Jus’ a little bit? ,” asks one, disappointment evident in his tone.
“Yep. No big deal tonight, ” you reply with a smile.
>A spontaneous burst of laughter follows your last declaration. They already know enough of you to know that you didn’t mean those words seriously, not even one bit.
>”Yeah, and the Princess is my mother!”
>”Keep telling that when you hit the floor!”
“Only after you, Moonlighter!”
 
>A minute passes with you meeting all of your friends here, you find yourself in front of the pub’s bar, which barely rises past your knee. Behind it, slowly cleaning an empty jar, his eyes fixed upon you, Quake waits for you to speak. You crouch down to sit on a special seat that was remade and reinforced for you a couple weeks ago. After all, the other seats aren’t strong enough to hold a creature of your size. Just looking at that makes you thinking about how much effort Quake and his buddies put on making you feel comfortable.
>Here, away from that narrow-minded, posh and severe city of High Canterlot, away from its rigid rules and away from the many assholes that inhabited it, you truly felt at home, and that is mostly thanks to the p0nies that lived here, to your friends and, most especially, to your favorite and closest barp0ny. Yes, now it’s time to properly give them your thanks and show them that you care and appreciate all the things they’ve done for you.
>So you sit, drop your bag and lock your gaze with Quake’s, the two of your putting your respective best “serious business” faces. Behind you, p0nies around several tables fall completely silent and eye the two of you, some with curiosity and the most experienced with certain boredom, because normally things go on like this:
>You refuse the offer, Quake gets mad and tries to convince you, you insist in your refusal and, after a heated argument, the two of you apologize and reconcile over a few shots of vodka or whiskey. It’s been like that on six different occasions during these past three weeks.
>But not today.
>You raise two fingers and then point at one of the many bottles on display behind Quake. Rodeonik, Appleloosa’s Finest Vodka. You can’t even imagine how they make it because, the last time you were there, on a visit to Applejack’s relatives, you didn’t saw any cereal or potatoes’ crops around the Far-Western town, just apple trees.
>Whatever.
 
>Quake quickly complies with your request and soon two short glasses are filled before you. You grab one and push the other in front of your good friend. Then, not turning your gaze for even a second, you slowly nod and let a smile twist your lips when you see the immense satisfaction in Quake’s expression, a manly tear rolling down his cheek.
>No words were needed for this.
>Not losing much more time, you two down your respective glasses in the blink of an eye, sweet vodka pouring down your throat and burning it with its touch. With the warmth of the beverage still caressing your mouth, you grasp Quake’s outstretched front leg and he manages to do the same with his hoof around your forearm. You wait for a few seconds in that position until he speaks, his voice’s volume barely above a whisper.
>”So, Anon, you’re in?”
>You smile.
”I’m in”
>Quake turns to the curious-looking p0nies and does his best to rise your arm into the air before announcing:
>”HEY, EVERYP0NY, NEXT ROUND IS ON THE HOUSE!!”
>The uproar that follows is almost deafening and, soon, you find yourself surrounded by eager p0nies who are congratulating both Quake and you, shaking your hand and offering you drink after drink. You laugh, whistle, smile and shout as you ready yourself for what’s about to come. Over and over again, you ask yourself why you didn’t do this before.
>You had the craziest day, and now it looks like you are headed for the craziest night.
>But, unknown to you or any other, there’s somep0ny inside the pub, barely a few meters from you, whose eyes never let you out of their sight and who doesn’t share everp0ny’s joy, although she, or he, dissimulates that without a problem.
>The p0ny waits there, calmly observing the racket around, all the time waiting for the right opportunity to do the deed he/she’s come for.
 
Blueblood’s POV.
 
>You are walking now towards the Eastern Wall and, despite wearing a robe and a scarf around your neck and being surrounded by three guardsp0nies at your house’s service, you can’t help but shiver whenever the cool night wind blows at the street. What wouldn’t you give to be back at your mansion, sipping from a warm cup of cognac or some fine wine, sitting next to a roaring fire…darn it.  Why can’t Luna’s moon warm the same way as her sister’s sun?
>The streets are almost empty and most of the few open locals are those flooded by teenager students, young mares and stallions. As you know, many of them are to, someday, take the same role as their parents and occupy their rightful place at the head of equestrian society.
>It’s the way things have always been and the way they should continue to be.
>A place for everyp0ny and everyp0ny in their place.
>Such a shame that, sometimes, extreme measures have to be taken to conserve this state of things. You don’t regret it, though. After all, nop0ny said that peace and stability come without a cost and it’s your sacred duty, as a member of Royalty, as a stallion in a position of power and as a direct descendant of Platinum’s bloodline, to ensure that peace is kept and that the cost of such maintenance is paid.    
>Just as you come closer to the Eastern Gate, the two royal guards flanking it suddenly stand to attention and hold their spears straight up, a stern look imprinted in their faces. Then, under the open marble archway, a shadowy group of figures slowly makes its way into the city. When they pass by the street lights and their appearances become clear, the guards at your service stop aside and stand to attention too, right hooves raised to their foreheads. Despite being at your service, Shining Armor is still their superior, after all.
 
>A group of really-tired looking recruits of the Royal Guards walks up the street, training iron-made armors bruised and dirty, coats drenched in sweat, tongues hanging and eyes closing, silently begging for a much needed sleep. In front of these potential peacekeepers, Captain Armor marches with his purple regal armor as dirty as their subordinates’, but without any signs of tiredness, always keeping his eyes open and his pacing rhythm constant. Canterlot couldn’t ask for a better p0ny to be captain of the Guard.
>Such an admirable sight he is, you think, finding yourself enraptured by the pristine white of his coat and the deep cobalt blue of his mane and eyes. What a shame that stallion is already married. Otherwise, you’d invite him to one of your “private night parties”. You laugh inwardly as he approaches and comes to a complete stop before your group.
>”Attention… HALT!”
>A few recruits manage to obey his order without stumbling, tripping over or bumping into his companions.
>”Good night, Prince Blueblood”
”Pleased to find you, captain Armor”
>”If you don’t mind, we’re on our way to the barracks. My boys here had a long day of training and need some rest. I hope you’ll excuse…”
“I completely understand, captain, but I merely wanted to tell you that…your wife is already at the Castle”
>Shining Armor’s beams at your words.
>”Cadence’s finally here? When…?”
“She arrived today, during the first hours of the evening, and I must say that our beloved Crystal Princess cannot wait to see you again, captain,…”
>”Thank you then, Prince Blueblood. These really are great news”
“…but I’m afraid that is not all about your wife’s arrival, “ you continue.
 
>”What do you mean, Prince? ,” the captain asks with an increasingly worrying expression.
“An unfortunate incident…involving Anonymous the Human. That is what I mean, captain”
>Much to your delight, a flick of anger appears in captain Armor’s eyes.
>”What did he do this time, Prince?”
“It would be much better if I explained you this on your way to the barracks, captain. This story is long enough and we’d better get your brave recruits some sleep, don’t you think?”
>Shining Armor silently nods before commanding the recruit squad to move again. Your guards move to the rear of the column, allowing you to march by the captain’s side at the head of the formation. There, you waste no time and begin to inform him of the incident, explaining everything exactly the way it happened.
>Ok, perhaps not so exactly. A few minor details are altered to make the course of events seem less favorable to the ape Anonymous, but these are necessary for your plan to work out.
>You are not even half way to the barracks at the Castle Courtyard and your story has already produced the desired effect. Captain Armor can barely contain his ire when speaks to one of their subordinates:
>”Recruit Sherman, go to the eastern guard post and contact Corporal Garand!”
>”Any orders for him, captain? ,” the recruit asks, managing to conceal his tiredness and annoyance at the sudden command.
>”Inform the corporal that a squad is to be dispatched to Low Canterlot at once to search and arrest the human Anonymous for assaulting the Crystal Princess! Now go, recruit!”
>”Yes, captain!”
>You can barely contain your excitement as you watch the recruit part back towards the Eastern Wall, all the time cursing under his breath.  
>You’ve been craving to do this for a long time, to teach a lesson to that rebellious monkey.
>And, very soon, Anonymous will learn one he will hardly forget.
 
Anon’s POV, one hour and Celestia knows how many pints of beer later
 
>You are Anon and tomorrow you’re gonna have a bad hangover.
>Well…like you really care.
>Quake has been managing his drinks fairly well. After all, he’s the barp0ny and he’s still working, so he can’t drink as much as you, even if he’d like to. You offered yourself to work alongside him right away, but he told you there’s no need to start your shift for now. Tonight is time to celebrate, he said, and you happily obliged.
>You’ve been having a really good time, doing the usual: drinking contests, arm wrestling, sharing good stories… you know, the sort of things that make you feel the “magic of friendship” Twilight was always talking about.
>Ok, that just may be the alcohol, too, but who cares?
>Now focus, Anon, you’re sitting on the floor, arms resting on a table. You’re surrounded by several p0nies who seem fascinated by what you were saying a moment ago. Wait, what were you saying…? Ah, yes, the story! Now it's the magical time of the night when you try to remember those things you read about or saw at the movies back on Earth. P0nies apparently love human stories, be them fictional or not.
>Well, at least, they seem to love the way you narrate them when you’re completely drunk.
>Hell, they even cheered at your reinterpretation of William Wallace’s heroic deeds. Granted, you changed some bits to make the story more appealing and made up many details to cover the fact that the most you knew about Wallace were some things you had overheard at History class back in elementary school and, like, twenty minutes you’d seen of that old “Braveheart” film.
>The faces they put up when you described Wallace’s last stand with his bagpipers’ army were priceless, though.
 
>Tonight, the big attraction is the legend of King Arthur: the origins. You are more or less at the beginning of that story.
“Ok, ok, guys…so this Uther Pend…Pentagon…Pentakill…well, whatever. The point is he wanted to give queen Igrain the D, but then… her husband told him to fuck off, because having the most powerful sword on Earth didn’t give him the right to get all the pussy… Uther, as you can imagine, was all like “U wot m8” and got real mad!”
>You make a dramatic pause and many p0nies cock their heads and nod, silently pleading you to continue.
“But he wanted the pussy so bad he convinced his good friend Merlin the sorcerer to help him with some awesome magic, “ a few unicorns gasp when they hear the word, but they always do.
>Some of them still can’t grasp the concept of a non-magical species in a non-magical world having magic mentioned in their literature.
“…and so, after the cuckold-to-be got outta house, Merlin called the Dragon, so it could cover the path to the Castle with his breath and help Uther get the pussy. I mean, the Dragon’s breath was like one hell of a Dutch-oven, just without any pot or closed windows…and then, Merlin told Uther to walk on the Dragon’s breath, because being rock hard for that Igrin queen gave him superpowers…or something like that…”
>”Wait, you mean that human king… was able walk on a smoke cloud?!, ” a young pegasus asks.
“It wasn’t like…smoke, it was more like sea fog, but yeah, kinda”
>”But he didn’t have any wings!”
“His cock was magical enough, I already said that, kiddo…so, where was I? Oh, right…and so Uther walked on the Dragon’s breath and then morphed to have the appearance of the queen’s husband and…no, for fuck’s sake…before you even ask it, I swear to you Uther wasn’t a changeling!”
>Several p0nies flash expressions of relief at your words. Nop0ny would like a story with a horsebug as a main character, after all.
 
“And finally, while the real king was dying in battle, Uther accomplished his mission…He infiltrated into the Castle and gave the D to the queen”
>You take a sip from your beer and finish.
“And that, mares and gentlecolts…is how King Uther got laid!!”
>A few moments of astounded silence follow, and then, somp0ny asks:
>”Wait, you mean to tell me that Utah broke his alliance with a king and then… made a powerful wizard use dark magic to summon a freakin’ dragon, just for him to go unnoticed and buck with the queen?”
“That’s it, yeah”
>More silence, and then…
>”What the h…”
>”Holy shit!”
>”That’s…buckING AWESOME!!”
>There is a lot of stomping, whistling, laughing and cheering to celebrate your short story afterwards. Granted, several mares didn’t like the tone in it as much as the stallions around you, but that doesn’t disturb you as you manage to stand up and take a clumsy bow, spilling half of your glass contents in the process.  
“Thanks, thanks a lot…guys, thanks a lot”
>You sit again.
“Hey, hey, dudes…All this talking about kings and queens reminds me of something I forgot to tell ya…Did you know I met with a princess tod…?
>”Yes, Anon, you’ve told us a thousand times!”
>”We know you met Celestia!”
“It’s not her I’m talking about!”
>”We know you met with the Princess of the Night, too!”
“No, it was another princess this time…!
>”Wait, a third one? ,” asks one stallion playfully.
>”Wow, Anon, you lucky bastard!”
>”This monkey in our town, taking our mares…!”
 
“It wasn’t like that, people, seriously…, “ you laugh, “No, I was just going for a stroll at the park when I almost crashed with a chariot on my way there. Unfortunately, that princess was in it at the time and, long story short, she hit the ground and I almost…”
>The p0nies stare at you, dumbfounded and somehow terrified of your last words.
“Ok, ok, now, chill out, guys. No one was harmed in that accident and everything was cool at the end. That pink princess was good and even forgave me and all”
>”Wait, she was pink?, “ Quake asks from the bar, suddenly interested in your story.
“Yep, pal, pink coat with pinkish and white mane. She said her name was Cadence, by the way”
>”Cadence…, “ Quake seems to meditate on the name, as if trying to remember,  “Could she be that “Cadenza” princess or something?”
>”Hey, I’ve heard about her somewhere!”
>”She’s the princess of that place far up in the north, huh?”
>”You mean the place where crystals are all the rage?
>”My coltfriend was there a few weeks ago. Said it was boring as shit”
>”…that place. I think it’s called the Shinny Empire, or something like… ,” an earth p0ny mumbles to himself.
>”It’s Crystal Empire, you dumbass!, ” a drunk pegasus corrects him.
>”Who’re you calling dumbass?, “ the earth p0ny now turns his attention toward the pegasus, a murderous look in his eyes.
>”Hey…relax, dude… It was just a word, didn’t mean it, ok? We cool now?”
>”You insulted me!, “ oh, god, this stallion sure looks pissed, “Now you take it back!”
>”Aw, c’mon…for Celestia’s sake, relax dude! It’s not like I insulted your momma or something ,” he adds with a mumble.
>”What did you say about my mother now?! I swear that if you don…, “ his words are cut short when the pegasus jumps and lands a hoof on his nuzzle. The earth p0ny stumbles and falls on the floor, just to stand up shortly after.
>”Ok, bring it on, bucker!!”
 
>As a fairly interesting bar fights develops in front of you, a p0ny begins to move completely unnoticed, always moving a step at a time in a casual manner, camouflaging perfectly amidst the other p0nies that crowd the pub, never getting more from its surroundings than one quick glance that rapidly falls into disinterest.
>Inch by inch, it moves for the next short minutes until it is right behind you. You and the other p0nies around are too focused on the fight to notice any of this.
>The pegasus and the earth p0ny are level pegging for a time, wrestling in the center of a cleared circle in the middle of the pub, landing blow after blow on each other in a blur of movement made somehow slow by the alcohol both contenders have consumed. Finally, a hind hoof connects with the pegasus belly, and then, before he can recover from the blow, another hoof hits his jaw strongly enough to make the poor bastard fly with no help of his wings.
>During those moments, the p0ny at your back suddenly produces an oblong object concealed in shadows and makes its move.
>There is a quick metallic flash when the object is flung towards your back, cutting through the leather in your jacket with ease and...
>”Anon!”
>You turn towards the source of the voice and the stealthy p0ny retreats, making its way back through the crowd in no time, just at the same moment Quake appears by your side.
>”Hey, there, Anon…”
“Wassup, Quake? You worried about these guys? ”
>”Nah, it’s not them I’m not worried about. This pub has seen some shit that makes those two look like foals fighting over a candy”
“So?”
>”I’m a bit worried about you, Anon. You sure the whole accident thing was solved with…no issues? I mean, it all happened the way you told us?”
 
“Yeah, Quake. I told ya already. The Princess helped me when some “goldies” and a group of assholes tried to take justice in their own hooves, thinking I had attacked her or something…, “ you sigh, “Hell, she seemed real cool to me, even for a member of royalty. And also allowed me to continue my way…”
>”If you say so…”
“Dammit, Quake. I swear, nothing happened. No problem. Don’t you believe me or what?”
>”No, Anon, I believe you…,” Quake doubts and then shakes his head, “…I’m sorry if I offended you, but you have to understand. Assaulting a member of royalty used to be a very serious offence and…”
“What the hell is this all about, Quake?”
>”Just listen, Anon, please,” when you keep your mouth shut, he continues, “back in the old days, a crime committed against a member of the Royal Family or any Guild or House with connections to the Crown… was punishable by life imprisonment …or, in the worst cases, by death penalty”
“Is this for real?, “ you ask after spending a moment processing what Quake has just said. Life-sentence, execution…wow, you’d never thought these p0nies were capable of that. Perhaps you should have paid more attention when Twilight was teaching you some history.
>”It is, Anon. Yes, that was more than eight hundred years ago, but still…although those laws have changed and haven’t been used for a real long time, any form of disrespect or…well, you know what I mean…anything “fishy” against the Crown is considered by some p0nies, specially the conservative ones, not only a crime, but a blasphemy…an insult to all p0nykind”
“Ok, ok, I get it. Don’t mess with pretty p0ny princesses. Fine. But what does that have to do with me?”
>”It has to do, Anon. Because if somep0ny, for whatever reason, suspects that things with princess Cadenza went the wrong way and don’t believe your side of the story, you could be in big trouble”
 
>That can’t be, you think. After all, you already are in trouble because of the fine.
>”That’s what I needed to tell you, Anon. Just to make sure you understand the issue you’ve just ran into”
“Don’t worry, Quake, “ you smile and put your right hand over his wither, just before dropping to the ground on one knee and get eye-level with your friend “I appreciate that you care about me that way. And I swear… by the very alcohol that runs through my veins, that what I told you about the accident with Cadence is true”
>”I’m glad to hear that, Anon “ Quake replies, with a smile of his own, “then, if this matter is already settled, we better continue celebrating, don’t you think, my monkey friend?”
“Hell, yeah!”
>You two brohoof and laugh together, but then destiny decides to have a laugh at your expense.
>Because, not even ten seconds after your conversation with Quake has finished, you perceive the loud sounds of trotting and cantering out in the street. The sudden noise approaches and, then, the pub door is violently opened and slammed against the wall. Everyp0ny inside the pub turns their attention to the entrance. Even the beaten up pegasus and earth p0ny stop what they were doing just to take a look at the six royal guards that are now stepping inside the pub.
>Through the open archway you are able to make out another six or more goldies waiting in the darkness outside the pub, standing by the side of what looks like a massive, well, massive for a p0ny…armored carriage, a medieval and p0nified version of a… police carrier?
>What in the actual fuck?
>You hear someone cursing by your side and, when you turn, you see that Quake is staring daggers at you.
 
>”What the hell is this about, Anon? What are these goldies doing here? ,” he furiously whispers.
“I…I…just don’t know, Quake”
>”You said everything was alright, Anon”
“And it was, man, honestly. I swear that what I told ya is the truth”
>Quake stares at you for a moment, his eyes seemingly trying to bore into your very soul, before relaxing a bit and nodding.
>”Ok, Anon. I believe you. There’s no lie in your words, pal, “you sigh in relief, “but that still leaves us with this problem, “ he motions with his head towards the guards.
>Both of you turn to confront the six royal guards, who are staring at you silently, on their faces there’s a mixed look of resolve and…satisfaction? For a moment, they remind you of children who are finally getting that treat their parents couldn’t afford to buy them. There are a few moments of awkward silence until Quake speaks:
>”Good night, guards. What brings you here? I can assure you that all my permits are…”
>”We are not here to check your licenses, bartender!, “ one of them quickly interrupts.
>”We are here for him!, ” another adds, pointing at you with his armored hoof. A third guard, one of higher rank judging by the insignia and extra decoration on his golden armor, steps out of the group and promptly exclaims:
>”Anonymous the Human, you are under arrest for reckless driving and assaulting Princess Mi Amore Cadenza and her retinue!
>Everyp0ny turns to look at you with wide-eyed astonishment and confusion, a few with a hint of anger as well. As for you, you can only stay there, dumbfounded and surprised. Now, seriously, what the…?
>”You are to come with us to the Quarters, “ the guard continues, “where you will remain under our surveillance until you are called to a trial”
>Wait, a trial?
 
>”Now, will you come quietly, human, or will you force us to subdue you?, ” the guard asks in a threatening tone.
>What is…I don’t even.
>How can this actually be? You remember the pink princess, Cadence, smiling and accepting your apology. Everything was fine, nothing bad happened…, or so you believed until this dozen golden-clad pricks made their appearance.
>It has to be a mistake, it’s the only way this could be happening. Or could she…could that princess…? Could that pink Alicorn have changed her mind and said the guards that you had actually attacked her? Was Cadence lying when she said you were free to go? No, that doesn’t make much sense. She could have pulled something like that the moment she saw you, and yet she didn’t. In fact, she even saved your ass back there. It should be something else.
>Some asshole, probably one of the many within the goldies’ ranks, must have jumped to conclusions before knowing the whole story and now these fuckers are harassing you because of it. No need to say, the thought of that seriously pisses you off.
>But you know better than to lose control. No need to get involved in a fight with these guys, not in front of your pals, not in front of your friend, not in his own pub and most definitely not when you have the feel that this is just a messed-up misunderstanding.
>Well, at least you hope it is.
>”Will you come with us or what, human? ,” the guard asks once more, this time while he and his companions are making their way through the crowd, already a few steps away from you, spears slightly lowered. You decide to answer before this gets outta hand.
“Sure thing…I’ll come with you, “ you reply, taking one step and raising your arms to show you mean them no harm, “Just give me a sec to pick my things up”
 
>”Very well, but be quick”
>You turn to Quake and he nods, dead serious, before suddenly giving you a reassuring smile.
>”Don’t worry, Anon, everything will be alright. I know you are a straight shooter, pal”
“Thanks, Quake. I’ll catch on with you if this ends up well”
>”It WILL end up well, Anon, you’ll see”
>You smile and nod before walking up to the bar to grab your stuff. You then move back towards the guards, who quickly form around you, keeping you in the center of a circle they can quickly tighten with their spears in case you try to do anything funny. Then, the guards move and you are harshly led out of the pub, with everyp0ny still staring at you, too shocked to do a thing about the whole situation.
>You are made to enter the “police carrier” through a too small rear door and sit on a too small bench after dropping your belongings by your side. The door closes and soon the vehicle, pulled by several guardp0nies, is painfully bumping as it makes its way through the slums and towards High Canterlot.
>You try to make yourself comfortable inside the low and small carriage, but to no avail.
>You sigh.
>It’s gonna be a really long ride.