Planescape: Equestria 1

>The moment you enter the inn, the hairs on the back of your neck prick up. Something’s off.
>You don’t get to be two thousand, three hundred and seventeen years old  (but who’s counting?) without developing some good instincts.
>You cast an eye over the crowded bar, but nothing seems out of place.
>High class whores, scheming Fiends, Faction politicians, information brokers, assassins – standard clientele for the Fortune’s Wheel on any given day a few hours before anti-peak.
>In one corner four squat, winged, hateful little Imps perch on stools around a tall table. They’re playing dice for small change and drinking hard from a bottle of amber firewine that stands mostly empty between them.
>One of them recognises you and gives you a surly nod.
>You return it – Tra’sheek is a useful guy to be on the right side of, just don’t ever trust him with anything shiny or sharp - and return to scanning the crowd for threats.

>At a table in the centre of the room the jackal-headed Arcanaloth Shemeska holds court, selling secrets and influence, spinning webs, pulling strings. The self-proclaimed King of the Crosstrade.
>She wears a tight, sheer evening dress that shows off her hairy, plump figure to hideous effect. Her coarse mane is primped and permed, festooned with brightly coloured silk ribbons, and her talons flash with the gold and jewels of their many rings as she lifts a glass of wine to her muzzle.
>Sitting across from her is a harassed-looking man, her client or victim or would-be co-conspirator. He fidgets awkwardly, unsure where to look as he stammers out his business.
>Half a dozen leather-clad Tiefling pretty boys flank the Arcanaloth, ignoring her hapless client, their hard eyes scanning the crowd for any threat or perceived slight on their mistress, for any excuse to get their knives out and have some fun.
>Not exactly a pleasant bunch, but no particular danger to you, and nothing out of the ordinary.
>Leaning indolently against the bar, a redheaded whore – or she might be a tout, or she might be both – catches your eye with a sultry smile and a flirtatious flutter of the diaphanous wings that sprout from her back.
>You rather think you know her from somewhere. Another time, it might be nice to pursue that acquaintance – but not right now.
>Right now, you just want to know what it is that has you looking over your shoulder, antsier than an Aasimar in Avernus.

>In another corner there are six – no, make that seven – small creatures you don’t recognise.
>Six small vari-coloured equine figures, two of them winged, two of them horned, and a purple reptile of some description, something like a very young dragon, but much too… well, adorable.
>Actually, they’re all adorable. Adorable is not a trait that tends to have a long shelf life in Sigil.
>Except for one of the horse creatures who seems to be trying to hide behind her own pink mane, all the others are looking around them with greater or lesser degrees of wide eyed fascination and wonder.
>The kind of fascination and wonder that acts much as a sign around your neck reading ‘clueless’.
>You briefly wonder how long they’ve been in Sigil so far without being robbed, raped and/or murdered, and how long they’ll stay that way.
>Oh well, not your problem.
>Normally you might be inclined to go and make conversation for curiosity’s sake. You’ve been around the Great Ring once or twice, and it’s not every day now that you come across a race of sentient beings that you’ve never met or even heard of.
>Today, though, you have other things on your mind, and that bunch can’t possibly be responsible for the prickly feeling at the back of your neck, that feeling that says that trouble is bearing down on you like the Lady’s shadow.
>Probably better not to think about the Lady’s shadow, or any other part of her either. You’ve had your history, the two of you, and it’s only pretty recently that you’ve dared to show your face in her city again.
>Considering what you have in your pocket right now, you might not be welcome here much longer, and it’d be good to skip town before she chucks you out.
>When the Lady of Pain chucks you out, you stay chucked.

>Anyway, there’s no sign of trouble, your paranoia notwithstanding. Best to stay cautious, but you may as well get a drink while you wait for your contact to show up.
>Here’s hoping that Corder doesn’t take too long. The quicker you can hand this stuff off and get on your way, the happier you’ll be.
>You get a mug of Ysgardian ale and find a free table to nurse it. You’re not far from the colourful horse creatures, and from here you can keep half an eye on them while you drink.
>The pink one seems to be trying to make friends with her closest neighbour.
“Hi! I’m Pinkie Pie, what’s your name?”
>She certainly is enthusiastic. Unfortunately for her, her closest neighbour is a Bladeling, and he exhibits all the social graces his kind are usually noted for.
“Pike off,” he growls in a voice that sounds like it’s foreplay to a brutal stabbing.
“That’s a funny name! I’m going to call you Pikey. That’s okay, right? You can call me Pinkie, all my friends do, and I know we’re going to be gooooood friends. Or you can call me Pie if you want, nobody calls me that but I wouldn’t mind if they did, I mean, it might be kind of a nice name, but it could be confusing, because I’m a baker, so what if they wanted me to bake them a pie and they were all like HELLO PIE COULD YOU BAKE ME A PIE and I’d be like NO SILLY I’M NOT GOING TO BAKE MYSELF and I mean actually hey that would be funny, can you call me Pie, would you mind?”

>The bladeling just stares.
>After a moment Pinkie resumes her torrent of friendliness, seeming pretty much undeterred by the Stygian levels of cold shoulder she’s getting for her efforts.
“Okay great! So hey listen Pikey, I hope you don’t mind me asking, I’m sure you won’t since we’re such GOOD friends, but what in the hay are you? I’ve never seen anything like you! You look like you’re made out of metal and you’ve got all those crazy spikes sticking out of you, do they hurt or what? Are you actually made out of metal? Don’t get me wrong or anything, it’s totally amazing! I bet if somepony hit you in the head it would just be all like GONNGGGG and you wouldn’t even feel it, am I right?”
>Pinkie has already hopped up onto the bladeling’s table and is now raising a hoof above his head as if to test her theory, but somewhat to your relief she is swiftly grabbed away by one of her companions.
“Sir, I’m so VERY sorry for my friend’s behaviour,” the white unicorn says in an accent that, somewhere, must be awfully cultured, but in Sigil sounds kind of quaintly old-fashioned. “I simply don’t know WHAT she was thinking.” She directs a glare at Pinkie, who looks completely unchastened. “I’ll leave you alone to drink in peace now, after all, we’re just here to have a QUIET DRINK” – this with another glare at Pinkie – “and NOT cause any COMMOTION.”

>Pinkie Pie looks sulky for a moment, her muzzle scrunching up adorably.
“But Rarity, that’s so boooooring,” she pouts. “Just LOOK at this place. There are so many exciting things to see, so many new friends to make! I didn’t even know any place like this existed!  I’m sure the Princess didn’t send us off to an amazing place like this and expect us to just deliver this message or whatever and come straight back. She won’t mind if we have some fun while we’re here, right Twilight?”
>This question is directed at her purple unicorn friend, who rolls her eyes.
“Pinkie, that’s EXACTLY what the Princess expects. Like I told you before, she was VERY clear, we’re just supposed to find this person, then he and Princess Celestia will send some messages back and forth through Spike, and then we come straight back. She said this place could be dangerous for ponies like us, and that we have to be SUPER careful not to cause any trouble.”
>Her tones softens a little as she sees how downhearted the pink pony looks.

“I’m sorry, Pinkie. I know this is hard, I mean, I wish we could look around too. I’ve never even read about most of the species in this room, and it would be SO incredible to speak with some of them and find out about their people’s cultures and history, and don’t even get me STARTED on the implications of this place for planar geography. If I’m not mistaken, I’ve detected portals leading off from this place to more than two dozen separate planes of existence. Do you understand what that means? Our whole world might just be one of fifty, or a hundred, or a THOUSAND parallel universes where everything is different. Each one a whole separate… a whole separate INFINITY, with its own cosmology and philosophy and maybe even the laws of science and magic could be different, I mean, my magic already seems to act differently here in this place, so who knows what sort of magic might exist on another plane? And there are people from all these different worlds right in this very room, and if I could just talk to them then-“
>Pinkie interrupts with a giant yawn.
“Okay, you’re right Twilight, it sounds really boring after all. I guess we should just get it over with and get home,” Pinkie says happily.
>Twilight looks nonplussed.

“That’s raght, sugarcube,” puts in the orange pony in a broad accent, upending her mug. “We got a job ta do, an’ ah reck’n we’re gonna do it raght. In the meantahm, though, since there’s no sahn of this Anonymous fella, ah might just have another o’ these… what was it now… Bah-topian ciders. Jus’ about the best darn apple cider ah ever tasted, ‘sides from Sweet Apple Acres’ very own, o’ course.”
>Anonymous? Did you hear that right? These… ponies… are looking for you?
“Ooooh Applejack, would you mind terribly getting me another glass of this maaarvelous Elysian honeywine while you’re going?” the white unicorn – Rarity, was it? – calls after her.
“Oh, and, um, if it’s okay, could I have one of those too, I mean, if you wouldn’t mind?” the yellow winged pony speaks out in hushed tones, peeking out from behind her veil of pink mane.
“And another of these Ysgardian ales for me!” the other pegasus calls, cyan blue with a multicoloured mane. “This stuff is AWESOME.”
“Legion… what now? Is guard… huh? I ain’t ever gonna remember that, y’all had better just come up ta the bar with me.”
“Got you covered, AJ.”
>The blue pegasus gives a hop over the table, aided by a quick flap of her wings, and lands adroitly next to her friend.

“I’ll come too,” Twilight puts in. “I’d like another look at all these exotic vintages, I want to try to remember some of these place names and look them up…”
>The three ponies brush past your chair on their way to the bar, the orange one, Applejack, proffering a friendly ‘scuse me, mister,’ as she leads the way.
>You’re too busy thinking about what she just said to even notice.
>They’re looking for you?
>You can’t even imagine what they could possibly want with you, but for now you decide to keep your cards close to your chest. Anyway, whatever it is, you want to get this business with Corder out of the way first.
>Speaking of which, that berk should be here by now. You don’t like the thought that something might be keeping him.