//------------------------------//
// Epilogue 
// Story: Armor's Game 
// by OTCPony 
//------------------------------//

The walls were black and gleamed as if they were wet. To the touch they were as cool and smooth as glass. The light came from slit-like windows in the walls fitted with hundreds of panes of different coloured crystal. The display it created could not mask the blizzard outside, nor banish the fact that this was a foreboding place.

Around a table shaped of the same black rock sat five men. They wore thick fur cloaks against the cold and all but one were bearded. They all carried swords at their sides and bent over a large map of the north.

"The ponies are preparing for war, there can be no doubt about that," insisted one, brandishing the transcript of a radio intercept. His beard and hair were thick and red, and beneath his brown fur cloak he carried an intimidating paunch. "Strike now while they are divided!"

"That will be the fastest way to unite them again," countered another, blonde, younger and slimmer, but no less muscular for that. His cloak was snow white and as soft as the wool on a baby lamb, a trophy from one of his hardest kills. "Let them fight, and let us sweep away what remains."

"And let them learn more art of war?" demanded a third. He was gaunt even by the standards of the people he ruled, with black hair and blue eyes so dark they seemed to match. His beard was tightly cropped around his chin and cheeks. "These ponies are an intelligent people and they think themselves civilised. They will not fight each other to annihilation. We know little of Equestria beyond the north and its coastlines, but we do know that it is enormous. We may be waiting ten years before they exhaust their troop reserves! All that time our people starve."

"Your people perhaps, brother," chuckled the fourth. He was so massive that his black cloak seemed to be sliding off his shoulders, and a wild brown beard concealed many chins. "You should join us on a few Dog raids. They tend to be productive!"

"You bleed your strength and risk greater wounds," growled his brother through gritted teeth, as the red-bearded man began to laugh at the usual show. "Should the Dogs counterattack in force..."

"...my men would smash them away while yours were still trying to remember where the cartridge goes in the rifle."

"I invest time in training, not in cannon fodder!"

"Training is no substitute for experience!"

"Enough."

All eyes swung to the fifth man, who had silenced the entire room though he had barely raised his voice. Despite the cold his chin was smooth, though his straight black hair fell down past his shoulders. Unlike the other men’s cloaks, his was blood red, and despite the freezing winds and snows, a dull gleam beneath it revealed that he wore steel armour.

But the most striking thing about him were his eyes: they were a brown so bright that it might almost be called red, and his very gaze seemed to penetrate them.

“We face an unfortunate complication,” he continued. His voice was deep and guttural. “Our raids upon the Diamond Dogs, productive as they may have been, have driven them on to the ponies and have forced them to militarise in response.” The fat, brown-haired man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Given the unfortunate events involving our cousins in the south this summer, I do not doubt that the ponies have begun to connect the two events, and with this civil war, they will only militarise further.”

“And what of us?” demanded the third man. “Our supplies run thinner and we are entering another winter. Technological advantage or not, we cannot storm the Crystal Empire without immense losses, and we need that city to replenish our stores, anchor our supply line and plan the next phase of the attack. We cannot do that if we have bled our strength away in an attack and cannot hold it.”

“The Crystal Ponies will be marching south as soon as winter ends, but they are sure to leave a portion of their strength behind to guard against the north. I intend to pull that away: triple our raids on the Diamond Dogs. We will gain more supplies, and it may force them into a desperation attack on the Crystal Empire. If this will deplete the ponies’ strength enough for us, excellent. And if not, well, they will have no choice but to investigate.”

The black-haired man settled back in his chair and the ghost of a smile played over his lips, revealing sharp white teeth. “We will let them follow us into the mountains, and deal with them at our leisure.”