Boreal Dusk
The tavern was noisy, too loud for my tastes, even though I had learned to tolerate such volume. The ponies that frequented this place were rowdy and short-tempered, which could prove to be a rather problematic combination. I stood across from where most of the commotion was, in a corner away from where they were recruiting. I was able to blend in seamlessly, or, rather, as best as I could. I was waiting for an opportunity where I could easily procure a role in the caravan without having to wait in a congested crowd of banal mercenaries. Most of them wore low grade stuff, good choice, mobility was key when in a caravan. Too much weighing you down and you could lag behind, but too little protection left you vulnerable to attacks. I noticed two guns for hire wore raider clothes, fucking idiots. Raiders almost always failed at protection, with their smudged and torn patches of leather loosely held together by rotten cloths, it was one of the many shortcomings of raider culture. The arrogance that the latest chem you took or the adrenaline rush given to you by a battle will stop you from dying isn't an ideal relied on by more civilized ponies.
Then I noticed an odd figure walking into the tavern. A crystal pony, no less, fully clad in refined metal armor. He was a hulking figure, a giant of a pony, but his movement lacked any grace or forethought, and the armor probably didn't help. I noticed him take a look at the poster, then go towards the two recruiters. Whoever was found in this stallions way made sure to move over while he made his way over to the other corner. Afterwards, however, I noticed somepony else enter the tavern. From what I could tell, it looked like some malnourished dark blue coated pegasus dedicated to dressing dapper in situations where it really isn't needed.
Then, another pony joined the fray. A hooded figure, so it was difficult to see any distinguishing features from where I was standing, but it moved with purpose. It stopped to check the caravan advertisement before heading to join the rest of the mercenary conglomerate. I had figured that this would be an opportune moment to sneak over and sign up for the caravan company.
I moved over to where the recruiters were standing, making sure to bob and weave my way past anypony that stood in my way. As I reached the two recruitment ponies, I saw they were conversing with each other, but abruptly stopped once they noticed me.
"Yes, I wou--" I began softly, but was cut off when some loud-mouthed mercenary sporting combat armor cut in front of me and started asking all these nonsensical questions, like 'How long is the trip?", or "Will we make frequent stops?" to which the two focused on making answers as abrupt as possible. This jackass was in the middle of a sentence when I tapped his flank to get his attention. "Umm, I was in front of you, I thi--" I start once more, my voice rather quiet, but the fuckwit doesn't take the hint as he starts turning on me now. "Who the fuck do you think you are?! I was tryin to get some work done, go fuck yourself, dillweed, and leave me alone!" he starts blabbering, but, fortunately, he had gathered enough attention for the two recruiters to step in.
"Yeah, sir, I think you should let this guy talk to us, then we'll answer your questions." says the one with the green mane. I blushed a bit, embarrassed by how I had to let a stranger solve my own problems. The jackass alternates from glaring at me and at the two recruiters, then storms off, obviously flustered. I manage to successfully get myself recruited into the Caravan company, even with my social issues and my ability to start conflict so easily.