//------------------------------//
// Interlude 1/2 
// Story: Diplomacy for the Strong 
// by Wages of Sin 
//------------------------------//

Captured and humiliated.


Though the attacking army of the griffon empire had not lost much more than some feathers, the 'prison camp' where they loitered was no less somber. Their predicament was disgraceful and they all knew it. Though none would contest the decisions of their commanders, the unspoken consensus was that their actions, by surrendering, had sealed their fate, if not by the Equestrians that now held them, then by the Empire upon their return. Death? Probably not, but that was of little comfort to the army that failed to even reach the lands they sought to conquer.


Nevertheless, whether their fates were to be met at home or abroad, they all silently but resolutely awaited their fate. They would not do their families the disgrace of cowering in the face of their punishments.


"Alright, listen up!" The familiar voice of the prison camp's commander rang. The voice was familiar, not conveying any of the disconcerting over-friendliness of the troops that had actually captured them. Those troops who had seemed all too eager to share their blankets and rations with the soaked, frozen, and starving army, even before their commander had been relieved of his blade. At least this commander's intentions were clear. "You disgraceful pile of feathers call yourself an army? Prove it and fall in!" 


Though a hint of trepidation could be felt, the griffon ranks did form in a respectable amount of time. Apparently satisfied, though hardly showing it, the commander continued,"You lot have received the grace of Equestria, and are about to be sent back from whence ye came. Sir Spike has been tasked with leading you lot back to the Empire, you listen to him well, and if a single scale is out of place when you get there, well… let’s just say, you don’t want that.”


He turned walking back to the rear of the platform, allowing Spike to come forward.


“Uh, hey... So, I’m supposed to lead you back to the Empire, but uh… I’ve never been there, so… anyway, we’re leaving ASAP, so you’ve got like an hour to pack up and be ready to go.”


The disciplined griffon force snapped to a salute, the sudden synchronized action startling the little dragon. 

Claws remained raised as Spike stared awkwardly across the formation.

"Uh... at ease?"

The griffons' claws returned to the ground as the camp commander came forward again, "You heard him! Get your sorry flanks in gear because you're getting the feather out of Equestria! Dismissed!"

Ranks broke and the Griffon troops began collecting their things from the trees they had been roosting in and under.

"Sir?"

Commander Eichenwald, leader of the expeditionary force and de facto field commander of the failed Equestrian operation, looked to the young griffon behind him.


"Sir, do you really think that they're just letting us go?"


The commander did not respond.


"So what happens now?"


"Now? Now we go back to the Empire, lick our wounds, and see just how powerful the empire can be with that mare on our side."