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// 2: A Capture 
// Story: The Dueling League 
// by Colt McCoy 
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It was midday, and a rattling wooden cart groaned carefully down a foothill in the far north of Equestria. The sun’s rays beat down unmercifully from its high throne; the pitch between the timbers of the cart had begun to melt and the ground felt sizzling to the touch of a hoof. No wind played about to grant a refreshing breeze; no cloud passed to give a brief respite from the furious heat. Anypony who enjoyed the luxury would spend such a day indoors, or somewhere the shade could shield them. That lucky pony was not Podokwa the zebra.
A rusted iron girdle sat about his striped neck, but served no purpose. The pony’s current struggle had his back jutted up against the creaking cart, his hoofs falling in careful steps down the dusty path in order to keep the cart from running away. Thin tail pinned against the unforgiving wood, the gigantic zebra was unable to flick away the flies that flocked to his sweaty flanks. All he was able to do was grit his teeth and continue slowly down the path, occasionally glancing up longingly at the forest – and accompanying shade – ahead. He rolled his eyes as he picked up on a shout from inside the cart.
“Podokwa! Podokwa! Careful! Keep it steady, you oaf!” A portly tan pony, comically donning the exact same shade in a panama hat, puffed on a fashionable black cigarette as he called out to the prize jewel of his most recent slaving expedition.
Podokwa paid him no heed. The only thing about him that exceeded his size and strength was his immense mental focus. The only sign that he had heard the slave-master was a barely audible snort of distaste. Only a few hundred more lengths separated him from the forest and the shade he so desperately required. Knowing it would only make him more thirsty, he refrained from smacking his lips expectantly and carried onward down the path.

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“Watcha doin’ there?”
“Ah, nothin’ much, just pickin’ some berries.”
“Picking berries, you say?”
“Eeyup. Just a’pickin berries. Pickin’ berries. Piiiickin’ berries. Piiiickin’ beeeerrriess. Pickin’ berries.” Mint idly conversed with himself as he meandered through the forest he called home, collecting ingredients for Caecilius’ special Sweet Berry Wine. It wasn’t a task he particularly enjoyed, but he traded these chores for his tab at the tavern, and it afforded him the time alone that he preferred. Moments melded into hours so beautifully inside his mind, out on his own, and Mint enjoyed the company of himself. Besides, he fancied himself somewhat of a kind pony, and Celestia knew that Caecilius couldn’t go out and pick berries himself.
“That daft old stallion’d probably pick his self all poisonberries!” Mint laughed at the image and glided onward towards the edge of the forest, humming a quick tune as he plucked the deep violet berries off of branches only a pegasus could reach.
He caught pause, however, as he was about to break into the sunlight of the foothills. Only a hundred lengths from him, a cart bearing the unmistakable traces of a slaver trundled dangerously down the hill. Out in front of it, delicately restraining the cart while making his way down the hill, stood the most monstrous pony Mint had ever laid his eyes upon. Granted, zebra colts tended to be pretty large, especially when compared to pegasi. However, this one was an incredible specimen. Mint guessed that he could have at least fit two of himself inside this massive zebra’s frame. What’s more, Mint could tell even from a distance that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on his body. His raw muscle arched away from his body in all the places that screamed strength and none that signaled obesity. Mint took this all in as he laid down his basket, formulated a plan, and alighted up through the trees and came to rest on a tall pine. Wings still standing at attention, he grasped his hunting blade between his teeth and crouched anxiously. The expert transformation between gatherer and hunter had happened seamlessly, in a few seconds flat. Now Mint waited to gather the riches that wheeled unceremoniously towards him.

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After an eternity of laborious descent, Podokwo was able to peel himself of the front of the cart and wheel the cart comfortably into the welcoming woods. A stream babbled by his side, and all his thoughts were immediately overwhelmed by a necessity for water. 
“Mastuh, sah, may I off to da watuh?” Podokwo’s gentle bass of a voice was hampered by his desiccated vocal chords. The tan slavemaster craned his neck as he gazed through the narrow but wide pane in the front of the cart. He grumbled out to Podokwo, grudgingly but appreciative of the zebra’s speedy haul through the mountains, 
“Are we at the forest already? Yes, yes, I suppose you may. Hurry up now, time is money!” With something as close to guilt as could touch such a cruel pony as he, he uncorked his own canteen and took a hearty swig of the water he had brought along for himself. Feeling his own throat relax under the cool water, he began dictating aloud the report he was sending out to the lords, touting the abilities of the very zebra he had just temporary liberated from his duties. Thinking giddily of his fortune to come, he spoke obnoxiously loud. Just loud enough, in fact, that he did not hear the back latch of the cart being jimmied.
A forest-green pegasus floated gently above the ground, merely a foot between him and the slavemaster through the wood of the cart, and tensed himself as himself as he prepared to drop the vertical door. Hunting knife grasped firmly between his teeth, he sidestepped as he dropped the door, rolled back, and grasped the neck of the startled slavemaster all in one fluid motion. Quietly removing the taste of steel from his mouth, he quickly replaced it on the neck of the fat, tan pony in front of him. This all happening in the breadth of a second, the less athletic pony had no time to react. Now he found himself quivering with fear as a razor-sharp blade pricked his neck.
“What are you doing? Who are you?” He squirmed and thrashed, but the smaller pony had an iron grip. “Get off of me, you scoundrel!” 
Meanwhile, Mint had taken stock of the inside of the cart. A lamp, a few chests that most certainly contained the slaver’s personal belongings, and a few chairs, no doubt meant to imply that the slaver expected company on journeys that he would never have. He quickly spied what he desired: a more ornate chest adorned with cast-iron locks and gold inlay. This would surely hold whatever spoils the slaver had returned home with. Mint growled gruffly,
“Shut up. You and your ilk disgust me. Let’s have ourselves a look at that chest o’er there, eh?”
“You’ll never get away with this! Unhand me!” 
Mint laughed abrasively right next to the fat slavemaster’s ear. 
“You’re the one in the wrong here, lard-ass. C’mon now, don’t you see? I control you. All this here is mine now. Understand?” The tan pony nodded, gulping audibly. “I’m being generous. All I want from you is what’s in this here chest.”
Slowly and grudgingly the slaver walked over to the chest. Undoing the latch, he seemed physically pained as he emptied its contents into Mint’s saddlebags. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of bits worth of jewels chinked together as they fell into the rough burlap. Mint barely managed to force his jaw back up as he addressed the slaver one final time. 
“Now go. I’ll have some men from the town out here later to take this thing apart and scrap it for all it’s worth. As for you, I don’t care what you do. But I’m gonna wait here until I see the top of your head get past those hills there. Take one look back, and I kill you.” The lithe green pegasus finished his lecture with a rope of spit delivered to the forehead of the still-quivering slavemaster. Turning tail as quickly as his portly frame would allow, the chubby stallion hustled out of the cart and up the bath, not sparing a glance to test the word of the pony who had just stolen his fortune.

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Mint, of course, only watched him as far as he could keep himself from laughing. Wealth beyond anything he had ever seen was an afterthought to the comical reward of watching the fat pony waddle hurriedly off into the distance. Throwing his head back and cackling in delight, he danced upon the roof of the cart, rejoicing in his newfound prosperity. A deep, booming voice woke him from his quasi-maniacal cart-top ballet. 
“Many thanks to you, sah.” Mint whipped around. He had almost forgotten about the gargantuan zebra that had been pulling the cart that he now found himself on top of. Hopping down from it, he extended a hoof towards the giant pony. 
“My pleasure, friend. You were probably going to escape anyways, yeah?” He looked expectantly at the pony opposite him. The foreigner replied with a deep grumble,
“Maybe, maybe. I was not planning on it. But you performed this deed for me and I must thank you for it, regardless of necessity.” Mint felt a sudden rush of embarrassment, realizing that his primary intent had been the acquisition of wealth and not the salvation of a pony in need. He coughed awkwardly and managed to play it off well.
“Think nothing of it. The name’s Mintrose Ambrosia, but everypony calls me Mint.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Mint. My name is Podokwo. Everypony calls me Podokwo.” Mint laughed and clapped his new friend on the back, with a degree of difficulty regarding his height. Retrieving his berry basket, he motioned down the path, and they began the walk towards Trotsdale. Feeing generous, he ventured,
“Podokwo my friend, it seems as if you’re not from around here. Although I know you have a home somewhere over those mountains, it would be wrong of me not to invite you to experience our world in a, uhh, more positive light. What say you to a night in Trotsdale, courtesy of your buddy Mint, before you head home?” 
Podokwo mulled the proposition over. He turned to look at the mountains, but the forest had obscured them from view. It was afternoon, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to make it through to the Savannah during the night. He flashed a grin towards the pegasus and responded, 
“Yes, sah. I would indeed enjoy your hospitality tonight, for I am afraid I cannot make it over the mountains alone tonight.” 
Mint looked over at the zebra for a second and said,
“Well, it’s a good thing thing I can pay for your food now!” He gave a little wiggle so as to chink together his saddlebags full of gemstones. As they shared a laugh, Mint knew that his intent was not just to keep this zebra for a night. With a comfortable amount of cash, he was ready to take on his first Dueling Apprentice.