After millennia of slumber, the ponies of Tambelon have awoken. For good or ill, they set their sights on the surface.
The art of raiding was far from dead. On occasion, the Master had used willing slaves to claim more slaves. With that said, Thunderstruck was clearly outmatched.
At a distance, she underestimated the size of the city. It wasn’t a shelter for a couple of clans or even a full herd. At least a hundred herds must have lived there. The castle alone dwarfed Tambelon.
So stunned was she by the gradeur that Thunderstruck smacked right into an archway, falling to the streets below and landing by a guard.
“Uh… hello?” Thunderstruck awkwardly started.
The guard responded with gibberish
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