Immortality is not without its drawbacks.
Immortality comes in many flavors, from the plain vanilla of "You don't die until something kills you", to the rich, delicious chocolate of compete invulnerability immortality, or the tutti-frutti of reconstructive immortality (the kind where your body rebuilds itself, rather than regrows, as per regeneration), the possibilities are endless. However, the biggest catch is, of course, that a lot of things that are really fun are also self-destructive. Case in point: Alchohol is a poison, technically, and my caprine body was immune to all poisons. Upside: I could drink all the beer I wanted, and never get drunk. Downside: No matter how much beer I drank, I would never get drunk, no matter how badly I wanted to.
As I contemplated my thirty-eighth beer, I looked out at the assembled trogs and ponies, drinking beer and having fun. Most everyone was well on their way to getting spectacularly plastered, and were reaching the point where bad-yet-incredibly-entertaining life choices were about to begin, and I was filled with a terrible sorrow due to the fact that I was not going to be drunk enough to partake.
My contemplation of the dreadful doom that had descended upon me was disturbed when I noticed something strange in the crowd: A flash of pink, which I soon discovered was a bright pink pony that was moving through the crowd, no... pronking, hopping up and down energetically as she went. Three things made it clear that she was not a standard Tambelon pony: First off, she had no scars whatsoever that I could see. If she'd ever felt the sting of a whip on her flesh, it had left no trace of its passing. Second, she was clean: Every pony in Tambelon was dirty, due to the simple fact that slaves aren't allowed to bathe often. She was almost sparkly in her cleanliness However, the third thing was the most telling: She had a mark on where a human's thigh would be, or in equine terms, her flank, in the shape of balloons. All of the ponies in Tambelon had blank flanks...
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In a way. Grogar pitied the ponies.
When a pony reaches its fifth year of life, a mark would appear upon its flank. This mark had numerous magical implications to it, but it also signified two very important things. The first was that it would show to all the world what that individual's 'special talent' would be, whether they wanted that to be known or not. The second was that, no matter how hard that pony tried, he'd never be as good at anything else in life as he or she would be at that talent. So, if the stallion's talent was mathematics, and he was only so-so when it came to crunching numbers, then he would know, more certain than sunrise or sunset, that he would never be able to rise able average in any other pursuit. He was destined for a life of agonizing mediocrity. And he would know that all of his life.
Destiny's brand was a cruel joke, one that most ponies failed to get, and the few who did blamed themselves for not being able to rise to greatness, rather than the cruelties of such forces as Equestria's much vaunted 'Harmony'. Grogar had tried magically removing the marks, to see what the effect might be. The results were that the pony just became terrible at everything. Even if they were spectacular at, say, baking bread, once the mark was gone, their bread became inedible, in spite of years worth of experience that should have allowed them to bake properly. It was as if they had no abilities, no skills, no talents, asides from what 'harmony' allowed, and could retain no skills of their own. Without a mark, they had nothing.
It was the worst cruelty that Grogar could imagine: Being reliant upon an outside force to maintain your continued existence, being a mere puppet on a string. And most horrible of all, the ponies praised these strings, not seeing them as the chains they were. They were shackled by those marks, and were allowed no self-determination of their own. Ponykind would never grow as a race, or if they did, it would be at a painfully slow progression, and only when the mysterious and ineffable forces of 'Harmony' allowed them to do so. Their accomplishments could never truly be their own, as they were things given to them by 'Harmony', things that could just as easily have been given to any other pony in the world with the same exact results.
While the force behind 'Harmony' seemed benevolent and intent upon protecting ponykind, it was also a force that, to an outside observer, was slowly suffocating ponykind, to the point that ponies cannot survive without that force's constant meddling... and removing 'Harmony' from the equation would be as simple and as easy as cutting down a tree and burning it to ash. Without 'Harmony', they would be at the mercy of a world that seemed to take great pleasure from creating newer and more terrible means of attacking them, things that made Grogar at his worst seem like an adorable kitten that liked to cuddle with baby bunnies.
In Grogar's eyes, pulling the ponies out of Equestria and into Tambelon was a kindness, even if they'd have to spend a few generations as slaves before they grew, as a race, to a point where they could thrive without 'Harmony' pulling their strings. A few centuries, five at most, and they'd be able to stand on their own hooves, and instead of having to wait for their own destiny to be handed to them, they would be able to go forth and claim it for themselves. In cages to come, they would praise the mighty goat for having freed them from a tyrrany far, far worse than anything Grogar had ever conceived, and would be able to become Tambelonian citizens in their own right.
Of course, first, he would have his sweet, delicious vengeance. Hurting the ponies, at least for now, would hurt the princesses, as would the fact that their subjects would spend centuries as slaves. Grogar never did anything for a single reason, and would never scratch unless it was to soothe two itches at once.
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As the memory cleared, I realized something incredibly important, something that was even more important than the fact that Grogar had believed that enslaving the ponies would be for their own good...
There was an Equestrian pony, here, in Tambelon.
And in the time that it had taken me to play that memory through Grogar's brain, and then blink, the pink pony had somehow managed to cross the large crowd, and made it all the way to me.
With the cheer I'd normally associate with really good drugs, or deranged psychosis, if not both, the pink pony grinned and said, "Hi! My name's Pinkie Pie! What's your name?"
I noted from the corner of my eye that Bray had done a spit-take at the sudden pink and perky pony presence that had arrived. He was well-acquainted enough with Equestrians that, even after one thousand years, he could tell when one was in front of him, even if he had been drinking a bit. And, even slightly sloshed, he remembered that one shouldn't be here. He continued to stare at the event that unfolded with the look of someone who simply cannot believe that the shit in front of them is happening.
I take great pride in my ability to take the seemingly-impossible, or at least highly improbable, in stride. As Alice in Wonderland once said, I believe seven impossible things before breakfast, just to keep my mind flexible. As such, I only hesitated half a second before I said, "I am Grogar, Overgoat of Tambelon." Raising a goatish eyebrow, I asked, "And... how did you get here? I was under the impression that the route between Equestria and Tambelon was sealed."
Pinkie Pie raised a hoof to answer, then stopped, and seemed slightly puzzled. "Huh," she said, confused, "how did I get here?" She took a moment to think, then admitted, "I honestly have no idea."
Okay, so the first Equestrian to set hoof in Tambelon was a ditz who didn't know how she'd managed it. I couldn't help but chuckle a little. I asked, "Have you been here before?" She'd seemed fairly chill about being someplace with strange ponies and creatures that weren't present in Equestria, so...
"Oh, yeah, I've been here a bunch of times," she answered promptly. "Not in this particular neighborhood, though." Sliding in close, she whispered secretively to me, "Just between you and me, Trog-Gob's parties are just awful."
"Obviously," I agreed, "especially for ponies. I'm glad I'll be seeing the last of him shortly." His whipping had finally reach the end, and now ponies were taking part in the second half of his torment: Trog-Gob was now doing an unwilling impersonation of a public urinal. It would be a while before that was done, but the Eidolon of the Grave was still present, making sure that ol' Gobble-Gobble couldn't escape.
I thought for a second, then asked, "Do you think you'll have any trouble getting back home?"
The pink one shrugged, then said, "Nope, I've never had trouble before."
"Capital," I said with a grin, which surprisingly got an adorable giggle from Pinkie Pie. "Would you be able to get a message to Princess Celestia or Princess Luna, by any chance?"
"Sure!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed, cheerfully. "I see them all the time, so getting a message to them will be easy-peasey!"
I nodded, then took a more formal stance and proclaimed, "Then could you please tell them that Grogar, ruler of Tambelon, has returned. At this point in time, I have no intention of continuing our past conflict. I am currently too busy tending to matters here in my own kingdom. I expect it will take several years to get everything running to my satisfaction, and even once I have things in their proper order, my intent is to expand my domain towards unclaimed territories well away from Equestria. I am leaving the conquest business: I am now in the empire-building business, and while kingdoms may be built on conquest, empires are best built through alliances. If either of the princesses are interested in diplomatic negotiations, or in making trade arrangements, I am willing to discuss those at a time and place we can both agree to. Otherwise, if Equestria leaves us alone, Tambelon will leave them alone." I paused, and considered the fact that this was a long message to give to someone even slightly airheaded, let alone her. "Do I, uh, need to write that down for you?"
Pinkie Pie made a show of clearing her throat, and then recited, in a passable imitation of Grogar's voice, "'Tell the princesses that Grogar, ruler of Tambelon, has returned. At this point in time, he has no intention of continuing our past conflict. He is currently too busy tending to matters here in his own kingdom. He expects it will take several years to get everything running to his satisfaction, and even once he has things in their proper order, his intent is to expand his domain towards unclaimed territories well away from Equestria. He is leaving the conquest business: He is now in the empire-building business, and while kingdoms may be built on conquest, empires are best built through alliances. If either of the princesses are interested in diplomatic negotiations, or in making trade arrangements, he is willing to discuss those at a time and place you can both agree to. Otherwise, if Equestria leaves you alone, Tambelon will leave them alone.'" With a smile, she added, "Anything else?"
"That should be all," I admitted, impressed. If she could relay that message properly to the princesses, that would be one less problem to deal with...
"Oh, I almost forgot!" Pinkie Pie exclaimed. Pulling a bottle from out of her hair, she presented it to me and announced, "I have a present for you!"
Raising an eyebrow again, I asked, "A present, you say?"
"Yup!" Pinkie Pie set the bottle on the table, and said, "It's a really nifty drink called Poko!"