Sargasso

by Goldymarg

A chance meeting

- Baltimare Docks, 9:43 pm

“Ugh, is this really the only place to get some grub around here?”

Wander around she said. See the sights she said. Never mind the fact that I was hungry an hour ago and I'm still hungry now. Only place around here that's still open is this seedy lookin' salt bar. Ah, whatever...maybe I can snack on some pretzels or something till' I can get a real meal. Maybe get a drink.

*creeeak*

The door opened with one of those loud and obnoxious creaks, like somepony poured salt water all over the hinges. Sheesh, even the floorboards feel brittle and used, like they're gonna give way any second. Feels like I stepped right into a mafia hideout.

“Hey, does this place serve any...uh.”

I'm starting to have second thoughts. Aside from the dust, cobwebs, and rotted wood, there were only two other ponies here; a beige unicorn was working the bar, while a customer sat in front of him looking like he was gonna fall over any second now. The bartender was wearing an apron covered in stains, which had a notepad stuffed into it's lapel. His black mane was slicked back with some cheap hair gel, and he was giving his single customer a stink eye. The other guy looked like a complete mess. He must've been like, sixty or seventy years old. His gray coat was all faded and wrinkled, and there were only a few stray threads of hair left in his mane. His right foreleg was wrapped around a wooden mug, no doubt filled with the strongest booze this place has. What really got me though was his right hindquarter...or lack of it, anyway. He had a peg leg. And considering his cutie mark was an anchor, all he needed was an eyepatch and he'd look like any token pirate. An old and busted one, anyway.

“Hey, how're ya doin'?! Welcome to the Baltimare Watering Hole, the hottest place for great eats, and the coolest place for a mug of cider! Pull up a stool, stay awhile!”

“U-uh, yeah...” Best place, huh? Can't imagine what all the other places to eat look like around here. “You have any soup? Kinda in the mood for something easy to digest.”

“Yep! We've got a special on vegetable minestrone, only four bits!”

That sounds pretty good. And he seems nice, I wouldn't wanna look like a jerk. “Yeah, sure, I'll take that...”

I pulled up a stool two seats away from the old guy. Last thing I wanted to hear was some drunken ramblings during my meal. The bartender disappeared behind a door on the far left, showing up again behind the window above the liquor shelf. Contrary to what this place looked like, he seemed pretty content with himself while he worked back there. Then again, maybe the guy should invest in some renovations...

“...hey, sonny.”

Aw man. Should've sat at the far end of the bar. He sounded just as creaky as that door, like he was trying to get his voice to work after not using it for years. My eyes wandered over, followed by a slight turn of my head. The old coot was looking right at me, his yellow eyes looking straight into mine.

“U-uh, yeah?”

“What's a tourist like you doin' in some dank salt bar so late at night?”

Ya know, if I wasn't so hungry, I'd be asking myself the same question. “N-nothing special, I just need a bite to eat is all...”

I saw him eying my cutie mark. (Sigh), here it comes...

“You supposed to be some kinda sailor?”

Why does everypony I meet make that mistake? “U-uh, no...I know it's a wave, but that's because I'm a marine biologist. My name's Audiosurf.”

As I was looking at him, I noticed a nervous twitch in his jaw. I saw the corner of his mouth crease a bit before he introduced himself. “...call me Briney.”

“...oh.” Please stop talking to me. You're weird. Like, really weird. And you're creepin' me out too.

“Hey you old fart! You aren't scarin' away my customers with that ridiculous story again, are ya?!”

The bartender – or should I say cook right now – yelled at him from the window, hefting a cleaver in front of him with levitation. Apparently this wasn't anything new.

“Don't ya sass me Bojangles! I'm tryin' to stop ponies from doin' somethin' stupid! Even in my sleep I can still see my pals gettin' dragged down with the Ironside!”

Wait. Did this senile old codger say what I think he said?

“Ugh, for the last time, my name's not Bojangles! It's Jager Bomb! How many times do I gotta - ”

“Um, excuse me! It's...okay! I'm sure he's just trying to be friendly, that's all!” Had to diffuse the situation. This guy said something about the Ironside, and I gotta know what he meant.

“Alright, alright. But lemme give you a word of advice!” He was looking at me now. “Don't believe anything this pony says, alright? He calls himself a sailor, but he's only been out to sea once in his whole life!”

“Feh! I'm more of a sailor that any a' you greenhorns! All you young'uns don't know nothin'!” He took a rather large drink from his mug, reeling back in his stool and slamming the thing down on the counter. Was kind of surprised when it didn't smash into splinters.

“Uh, so, Mr. Briney...you said something about the Ironside? Like, the S.S. Ironside?”

“Haaa?” He craned his head at me with a squinted eye. Could've sworn I heard his neck creak too.

“What's it to you?!”

I raised a hoof, trying to look as forthcoming as possible. “I-I don't mean to be rude or anything! It's just the research team I'm a part of has been trying to locate the S.S. Ironside for several months now, and...”

“...you won't find it. Not in this lifetime.”

He grasped the mug in his hooves, looking into it with tired eyes. Those last words came out just as old and lethargic as he looked. Nothing like how he'd been sounding so far. I breathed out a bit and got up, taking the stool next to him.

“Can you tell me what you know about the Ironside?”

He winced automatically at the question. “U-uh, only if it's okay with you! I'm not trying to pry or anything. W-whatever happened must have been painful, what with the ship disappearing without a trace like that, and...we're only trying to solve an age old mystery, and...”

There I go again. Rambling and stumbling over my words like a dancer with four left hooves.

“No, no, it's fine sonny. It's the reason why I keep comin' back to this hole in the wall. Everypony needs to know what happened on that day...”

I leaned forward, crossing my hooves in front of me on the counter. There was no telling how long I was going to be here, so I tried to get as comfortable as possible in this brittle stool. “Then, if you please...I'd like to hear what you know.”

Author's Note:

10/5/13 - This is a test. A test of whether I can complete a story within nine days. I have to if I want to be able to submit it for a halloween contest. Wish me luck!