• Published 12th Mar 2012
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The Great Slave King - TalonMach5



King a slave of the diamond dogs, becomes a god and plots his revenge against those who wronged him.

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A Quest for Friendship, Adventure, and Love

Clover could see his breathe freezing in the frigid night air, as he walked down the well-worn path through the ancient forest. Master Starswirl had said that this was the most direct path to the Castle of the Pony Sisters, but it wasn’t used very often. He could see why, it went right through the heart of the Everfree forest. Only fools and desperate ponies ever entered the Everfree if they could help it. And Clover’s cause was a desperate one. If the prime elements of Equestria remained out of balance for much longer, all of ponydom might be doomed. There hadn’t been a harvest this year, and food was beginning to get scarce. Plus all the dragon attacks and griffin raids were taking their toll on the economy. It was like the very earth itself, had turned its back on ponykind. Knowing time was of the essence, Clover picked up his pace, galloping as fast as his hooves could carry him through the woods.

Looking at the ancient trees, Clover wondered why the Princesses had allowed the Everfree to grow as wild as they had. At least the weather was better here than up north, near Unicornia. Walking along the road, he saw a small, brown, diamond dog pup, poke it’s head out from a hollowed log. Clover looked towards the pup in curiosity, the pup realizing it had been discovered, retreated back into the hollowed out log in an attempt to hide.

Clover trotted up to the hollow log and poked his head inside. “Hello, anypony home,” he said, his voice echoing into the hollow log.

“Grrrr, no ponies are here, now go away,” a tiny voice squeaked out.

“Are you hungry?” Clover asked, “I have a gem you can have, if you come out.”

“Grrrr, Maybe… What kind is it?” the voice asked more than just a little curious.

“A small sapphire,” Clover said, taking it out from his saddlebags with his magic. Hoping to coax the pup out of the log, he placed it a few feet away. Waiting expectantly for the pup to exit out of the log, he pulled out an apple from his saddlebag and began eating it.

Deep inside the hollowed out log the pup stared at the sapphire longingly, licking his lips in anticipation he was trying to decide what to do. When he heard the pony eating the apple, his tummy began rumbling, making him whine in hunger. Slowly the pup crept forward on his paws, trying to reach the sapphire unnoticed.

Clover was finishing the apple, when he saw the little brown pup about to grab the sapphire. “Oh,” he said, “you look like you're cold. I have a blanket you can use.”

When the pup heard Clover talking to him, he scooped up the sapphire in his mouth, and ran back into the hollowed out log before Clover could grab him. The blue unicorn used his magic to lift the large log, and tilted it downwards. The pup rolled out of the log, and landed on the ground. Attempting to escape the unicorn the pup tried running away, but found it had difficulty even managing to stand up. After several failed attempts, the pup gave up and started crying.

“Aroo, now I’ll never find them,” the pup whimpered, through it’s tears.

Seeing the pup’s tears, Clover picked up the fallen sapphire with his magic and knelt down by the pup. “My name is Clover the Clever, what’s yours?” the unicorn said, handing the gem to the pup.

“The pup sniffed a few times, and looked up sadly at Clover, “I’m Shanks, Mr. Pony,” he said, gratefully taking the sapphire and shoving it into his mouth.

Clover looked at the path and only saw one set of paw prints. “Are you lost, maybe I can help you find your parents,” he said, in a friendly voice.

When Shanks heard the request to help him locate his parents, he let out a lonely howl, “Awoooooo!” he cried, then covered his face with his paws, tears slowly rolling down his muzzle. “The not-Darkpaw has them, and now I’m all aloooooone.”

When Clover heard about this not-Darkpaw, his ears perked up. “What do you mean the not-Darkpaw, who’s that?”

Shanks sniffed loudly a few times, and then wiped away his tears with his paw. “Grrrr, the not-Darkpaw, he ended the world,” he said growling. But I’m not worried. My ma said we’ll meet together again, with Lord Darkpaw and my brothers.”

“What do you mean the world ended?” Clover asked the pup in confusion.

“Grrrr, the not-Darkpaw brought down the sky, and destroyed the world,” Shanks explained. “But don’t worry, Lord Darkpaw is the toughest. My brothers are training in his army, and Lord Darkpaw will fix the sky and save the world.”

Hearing that Lord Darkpaw was still alive, filled Clover with hope for the future, maybe he might be willing to accept an alliance with ponydom. “Well, I’m on my way to see the Princesses, Shanks,” he said. “I’m sure they’d be willing to help you, why don’t you join me?”

Shanks’ tail began wagging when he heard the nice pony offering to help him. “Okay, but do you have any more gems?” he asked hopefully.

Clover smiled and levitated an emerald out of his saddlebag, “Here you go Shanks. I don’t have many left, so we’ll need to make them last until we reach the Castle of the Pony Sisters.”

Happy to have a decent meal after so long, the pup barked happily a few times as they walked down the road together towards the castle, with a renewed sense of hope and the beginnings of a friendship that would last forever.

*****

Sir le Boeuf Stouthorn, the chivalrous, of the ‘Most Illustrious Order of Triton the Lawgiver’ had just had a most interesting day. Between fighting a full grown dragon, comforting a damsel in distress, and aiding starving children, truly he was the living embodiment of true heroism.

“But Sir Stouthorn,” Seafoam his seapony page complained, floating ahead of him in his magic bubble, “did we really need to give away all of our gems?”

“Balderdash, Seafoam,” Sir Stouthorn, chided his wayward charge. “When there’s a damsel in distress, chivalry demands a knight of the realm do everything in his power to right those wrongs. Besides, her children were starving.”

“I realize that Sir Stouthorn,” Seafoam said. “But what will we do for money, sea dollars aren’t accepted outside of the realm, and we’re almost out of provisions.”

“Money, bah,” Sir Stouthorn said, snorting in contempt of worldly concerns, “Seafoam, who needs money when there’s evil to vanquish, villainy to stop, and the downtrodden to aid!” said the knight, dramatically sweeping his arms for effect.

“Well I guess you’re right,” Seafoam said reluctantly, sadly looking at their empty wallet. “Besides, it felt good to see the look of gratitude on the mother face when she saw her children eating.”

“That’s the spirit, my good Seafoam,” Sir Stouthorn said, holding the token of appreciation the lady had given him in his mighty hands of justice. “Besides we’ll get you your spurs soon enough at this rate. Imagine, performing three feats from one quest. Vanquishing a dragon, aiding a damsel in distress, and aiding the weak; I tell you my boy, the bard’s will honor us in song for our exploits!”

“But Sir Stouthorn,” Seafoam objected, “I don’t think that we really did any of that, I mean we only defeated the dragon by agreeing to feed her starving children.”

“Poppycock,” said Sir Stouthorn, incensed that his achievements were any less meaningful then that of any other questing knight. Which, while his exploits were too numerous to recount here, each was worthy of song. He wasn’t about to let some harper’s guild toad, decide what counted towards questing and what didn’t. “The harper’s guild doesn’t have exclusive rights to decide what counts as epic questing and what doesn’t,” he said.

“Technically they do,” Seafoam advised his lord, “After all, the Harper’s guild decides which quests get turned into songs and distributed to the bards to be sung in taverns across all Equestria, and which ones don’t.”

“Damn, your right,” Sir Stouthorn said, shedding a solitary tear, that ponies everywhere would miss out on the inspirational tale, that was his latest exploit. “The bastards, sure have a stranglehold on the Harper’s guild distribution policies.”

B.A.S.T.A.R.D.S. or the barding association for the saving and retelling of deeds in song, determined which quests were worthy of being immortalized in song, and which were the purview of rank amateurs. Sure, some bards liked to recount their own original creations, but those songs never got much attention, and had a very small distribution. The ponies running B.A.S.T.A.R.D.S. seemed to have a vendetta against all of Sir Stouthorn’s exploits. It had been three years since his last quest had been accepted as being worthy of being immortalized, and he was starting to feel that maybe he was past his prime.

“Just what do those B.A.S.T.A.R.D.S. expect from me,” Sir Stouthorn moaned. “I’d bet, that even if I saved the world next week, they would find some loophole saying I didn’t do it heroically enough.”

Seafoam floated over next to his lord, “Sir Stouthorn,” he said, “even if you never get another quest memorialized in song, the people we help will surely remember your great deeds with gratitude.

When he heard the truths his young squire spoke, this removed the malaise he was in, immediately he struck a heroic pose. “Quite right my loyal page,” he said, grateful to have such an excellent traveling companion as Seafoam by his side. “Let’s stop this silly moping, and move onwards to the next glorious adventure! What’s next on the itinerary?”

“Well, with the dragon being technically vanquished,” Seafoam said looking at his list, “we qualify for the reward that was posted. The Castle of the Pony Sister’s, is where we can pick it up.”

“Did you say, the Castle of the Pony Sister’s Seafoam?” Sir Stouthorn said, stroking his magnificent mustache with both grace and elegance.

“Yes I did,” Seafoam said curiously. “What about it?”

“Don’t you see,” Sir Stouthorn replied, his countenance beaming with excitement. “This is the opportunity we’ve been looking for. It’s the best. Quest. Ever.”

“I don’t believe any questing opportunities are currently available there,” Seafoam said, double checking his scrolls.

“Nonsense,” Sir Stouthorn replied, as he bent down looking for the perfect flowers growing along the sides of the road. “Celestia and Luna are princesses aren’t they.”

Seafoam looked at Sir Stouthorn worriedly, “But they are deities,” he protested. “Besides…”

“That’s even better,” Sir Stouthorn said, the resolute determination to receive a quest from the princesses, filled his bones with a righteousness fervor. “Imagine completing a quest from both a goddess and a princess simultaneously, that’s got to be some kind of record.”

Seafoam couldn’t believe his ears. First by charging headlong into a dragon’s maw, and now trying to wrangle an unsolicited quest from the alicorn princess goddesses. But Seafoam just smiled in resignation. Once Sir Stouthorn had a quest on the mind, there was nothing that could be done to dissuade him from it. It was best to just go along with it and hope they survived the ordeal.

“Okay,” Seafoam said, writing on his scroll, “next on the itinerary, receiving one quest from either of the pony sisters.”

“That’s the spirit lad,” Sir Stouthorn said, spying the perfect flowers to present to the alicorn sisters. A white rose for Celestia and a pink orchid for Luna. “Praise the Lawgiver,” he thought; this was surely a sign from Triton himself that their quest would be a success. Carefully he picked the flowers and placed them gently in his satchel. “Onwards Seafoam, onwards to glory and adventure!”

“Lawgiver, help us,” Seafoam muttered under his breathe.

The wind picked up as the two heroes, the knight errant, and his faithful page, followed the path towards the Castle of the Pony Sisters. The gentle breeze blew flower petals behind them, as they left the grassy field. With such signs marking their passage, surely the adventure of a lifetime wasn’t far behind.

*****

“What do you mean Showboat,” asked the dragon riding her back. “The windigos above us, the fact they are being chased by a pissed off griffin, or that we just escaped with over a thousand bits, and Cardshark’s saddlebag.”

Showboat levitated the little blue dragon off her back. “Stop joking around Slick,” she said, using her magic, to play with her white mane. “I mean the griffin chasing the windigos of course. Do you see what he’s holding in his talons?”

“A bridle, big deal,” Slick said, “What is it with mares and bridles anyways? You have eight in your saddlebags already.”

“No Slick,” Showboat said, “think about it. If he’s chasing the windigos that means he’s a windigo handler.”

“I still don’t get it,” Slick said, popping a few gemstones into his mouth from a pouch at his side.

“Think about the opportunity that fate just handed us, Slick,” Showboat said, looking into a mirror adjusting her mane while spritzing herself with perfume. “That must be a bridle of peace. Do you have any idea what one of those would be worth? If we manage to get it, the bits we could earn from ‘saving’ ponies from windigos that we just happen to control, will make our gambling racket look like pocket change.”

“Hmm, I don’t know Showboat,” Slick said, thoughtfully chewing on a ruby. “How do you expect to get him to give it to you, he doesn’t look like the most friendly griffin I’ve ever seen.”

“He’s a male,” Showboat said with a wink, “that’s all I ever need to work with. By this time tomorrow he’ll wake up with memories of the best night of his life, and we’ll have one bridle of peace.”

“Ugh,” Slick said, “Gag me with a spoon. I don’t want to think about it.”

“When you’re older Slick, you might feel differently,” Showboat said, rooting through her saddlebags looking for just the right bridle. ”Aha, here it is.” Pulling out an ornamental bridle, she levitated it above her head. Her horn started glowing, while the bridle changed it’s shape. It became an exact duplicate of the bridle of peace she saw the griffin holding earlier.

“Uh, Showboat,” Slick said pointing up. “There’s still one problem you haven’t addressed.”

“What’s that Slick,” Showboat replied, placing the bridle on. “Just how are we supposed to get him to come down?”

“Oh, that’s easy Slick,” Showboat said, flicking her tail a few times. “Seeing how frustrated the griffin looks at having to chase the windigos, we just have to follow him and camp nearby. Once it gets dark, we’ll setup camp and prepare a delicious stew. With the help of a little bit of magic and my awesome cooking skills, he won’t be able to resist. Once he smells what we’ve prepared, he’ll ask to join me for dinner.”

“Ah,” said Slick, “I like your plan. It’s been a while since we’ve had stew.”

“Well…” Showboat said, “you won’t be joining us, I’ll need you to stay away while I work my magic.”

“Ah,” Slick moaned, “But I wanted some stew.”

“Slick, once we’ve escaped with the bridle,” Showboat said smiling, “we’ll buy you all the stew you could possibly ever eat.”

When he heard that, Slick grinned, “Okay you got a deal, Showboat,” he said. “But I expect a big meal tomorrow night.”

“Okay Slick,” Showboat agreed. “But remember don’t come near us, Once I have the bridle in hoof, I’ll join up with you. Then we’ll head towards the closest city we can find.”

“Well Trottingham is out of the question,” Slick said, “we’re equis’ non grata over there.”

“What about Fillydelphia?” Showboat asked.

“No,” Slick replied, “we shouldn’t go back there until Broken Barrels retires. The only other large city, nearby is Londwhinium, that’s right by the Castle of the Pony Sisters through the Everfree forest. And a hard two days gallop away. Do you think we can make it before he catches us?”

“Hmm, Londwhinium is pretty far away,” Showboat said, holding a hoof to her mouth, “but it’s doable, I’ll just add more sleeping powder to the stew, and take the griffin around the world three times instead of two. That should tire him out.”

“Take him around the world?” Slick asked confused.

“I’ll explain it to you in a few years Slick. Maybe I’ll even show you one day, when you’ve grown your wings,” Showboat said teasingly.

“Sometimes you’re weird, you know that,” Slick said, preparing a campfire.

“What would I ever do without you Slick,” Showboat said, kissing her dragon companion on the forehead.

“Probably have to get a real job.” Slick replied, using his dragon’s breath to start the fire.

“Oh you silly dragon,” Showboat giggled. “Now remember, don’t interrupt me while I’m working my magic. It might get a bit noisy, but I’ll be all right.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I got it Showboat,” Slick said waving his paw, as he walked away. “I won’t interrupt you seducing and bedding the griffin.”

Showboat’s pink face went red. “Hmm, maybe Slick’s older then he looks,” she thought to herself.

*****

He had tried everything he could think of, weaving, stalking, and flying against the sun; flying under the clouds, over the clouds, and through the clouds. Nothing he did was working. Shaw really wish he could just say buck it all, and go get drunk in one of the local taverns close by. Unfortunately, they would all be run by ponies, and pony booze was weak and sweet, not hard and sour the way he liked it. What he wouldn’t give for a tallchick on the rocks, now there was a drink worth drinking. Not too much head, and it went down the throat, nice and smooth with no bitter aftertaste. Thinking about the last time he had one, was reminding him of Ramona the local tavern wench back home. Easy on the eyes, she had such a supple flank… Wait why was he thinking of sex all of the sudden? Those bucking windigos! He would throttle every last one of them, he didn’t care if he got banished afterwards, they were gonna pay for this aggravation. Once he took care of the windigos he’d mount the matriarch’s daughter, Tina as well, may as well take that a piece of that flank before he ended up banished.

“Why the Hades, am I so bucking horny all of the sudden?” Shaw thought to himself, the images of Tina and Ramona with tails raised, while they rubbed themselves up against him, went rushing through his mind. Not that he didn’t mind the fantasy, but he had a job to do… what he wouldn’t give for hot meal just about now. A big heaping bowl of rabbit stew, or a roasted pheasant would be awesome! No make that roasted baby potatoes drizzled with garlic and oil, with a stuffed game hen, served with a piping hot loaf of bread, and a chilled glass of brokenbeak ale. He felt his stomach rumble in anticipation. But he was confused; he had just eaten a little over an hour ago, why the hay was he so bucking hungry now?

Flying overhead, he spotted a pink unicorn mare cooking a large pot of stew. Even from this height it smelled divine. Looking at the mare, he immediately felt his lust rising. Shaking his head in disbelief over his desires, he snorted. “A pony?” he thought to himself, only weirdos and degenerates mated with the lesser races. That would be like taking a diamond dog bitch as a mate, totally taboo. “Taboo, but not unheard of,” his lust said, attempting to cloud his judgment. “No one needs to know anything, if anything, the pony won’t talk,” his lust said, justifying his desires. That was true, ponies hardly mated outside their own tribes, let alone their species, she wouldn’t talk. With his libido rising, Shaw didn’t realize that he still hadn’t landed, when his wings seized up. “Arggh,” he cried, crashing to the soft earth below. His wings were now stiff as a board, and were refusing to go down.

“Ugh,” he said, as the world spun around him wildly, “I really need to get laid bad.”

Looking up, he saw the pink unicorn looking over him with concern in her eyes. “Are you alright?” she asked him, with a kind smile.

Shaw looked into her sky blue eyes for minute; they looked like bottomless pools that threatened to swallow his soul. The heady perfume she wore disoriented him, all he could feel was the desire in his loins. His wings pulsated almost painfully, as he shook his head trying to compose himself.

Shaw got up on his feet and shook the dirt free from his coat and feathers. “Yes I am. Thank you for your concern miss…” he said, trying to discover the unicorn’s name.

The pink unicorn giggled. “Good sir,” she said, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “It’s awfully impolite to ask a lady for their name, without a proper introduction first.”

“Is she flirting with me?” Shaw thought to himself, as he studied her supple flanks.

“Like what you see, good sir,” the mare giggled teasingly.

Embarrassed, at having been caught red clawed at checking out her goodies, all the blood rushed to his head. “I’m sorry, my lady. I was just entranced by your cutie mark,” he said lying through his beak. “And please forgive my rudeness earlier; I was still disoriented from falling. My name is Shaw by the way.”

“Oh that’s quite understandable, Mr. Shaw,” the unicorn said, eying his still outstretched wings. “You must have certainly had a lot on your mind.” With a sweet smile, she outstretched her hoof, “My name is Showboat,” she said. “I’m a traveling entertainer of sorts, and I’m currently headed towards Trottingham. I just finished making dinner. Would you care to sup with me, and share my fire tonight?”

Shaw was unable to reply, the musky perfume that Showboat was wearing, was bringing out all sorts of desires he never knew he had for ponies. Additionally, the smell from the stew made thinking about anything other than eating, impossible.

With only two things on his mind, Shaw kissed her hoof gently and nodded. “Yes, it would be a pleasure to dine with you tonight my lady,” he said. “I’m sure the heat from the fire will keep us both warm through the night.”

Showboat smiled seductively. “Oh, I’m sure that the fire won’t be the only thing that will keep us warm,” she said coyly.

Shaw couldn’t believe his luck. Dinner and a lay, and he didn’t even have to buy her dinner. Maybe he should reconsider his policy on dating outside his species. Nodding politely he followed Showboat towards the bubbling pot of stew. Showboat levitated a bowl of stew towards him. Blowing on the stew to cool it, Shaw began eating. Gradually he sated one of his primal urges; before the night was done he knew both would be fully satisfied. “This is… The best… Night… Ever,” Shaw thought to himself.

*****

Showboat disentangled herself from Shaw’s talons; a satisfied smile was plastered across his face. Kissing his beak lightly, Showboat used her magic to levitate the bridle of peace out of his saddlebag as carefully as possible. The plan depended on Shaw not waking up for at least twelve more hours. If he woke up now, it would all be for naught. Finally the bridle was free from his saddlebag and floating in front of her. Shaw extended his claws, smiling. Showboat froze, and then relaxed when she realized the griffin hadn’t woken up. Using her magic, she inspected both bridles verifying the fake wouldn’t be discovered till after she was long gone. Satisfied with her handiwork, she levitated the fake bridle into his saddlebag. Carefully, she made sure the forgery was in the exact same position as the original. Closing the saddlebag, she began breaking camp. She was glad that she had decided to clean up everything, before moving to phase two of her ingenious plan. Once everything was stored neatly in her saddlebags, she wrote a quick note inviting her impromptu lover to see her sometime in Trottingham for an encore performance. Laughing to herself, she was amazed at how easily she had conned the griffin. Trotting off for a mile in the direction of Trottingham to leave a false trail, she met up with a sleeping Slick in a dried up stream bed.

“Wake up Slick,” Showboat said poking her accomplice. “We have to hurry on our way. He could wake up at any time.”

Slick stretched out his arms, as he yawned. “Didn’t you use extra sleeping powder, and go three rounds with him like you said you would?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his tired eyes.

“Yes,” she hissed, “but I have no idea how effective the powder is on a griffin. So hop on my back and let’s make tracks.” In the sky high above them, Luna’s full moon illuminated their path, as they made their way towards Londwhinium, and their fortunes.

*****

“Ugh, my head,” Shaw said aloud. He woke up alone and disappointed next to the dead campfire. He had hoped to have gotten another chance to enjoy Showboat’s ample flanks. “I must have overslept,” Shaw though, chiding himself for his laziness. Seeing the note Showboat had left behind, he read it and was pleased to hear he had an open invitation to see her again in Trottingham.

“You still got it, you sly devil,” Shaw said aloud, proud over the previous night’s escapades. Right before he was about to launch himself into the air to resume his chase after the windigos, he heard some ravens overhead laughing at him.

“Ha, ha, ha. What a fool,” the first raven said to it’s companion. “Not that I blame him for thinking with his loins, but a wise bird would have gotten their rocks off, and then conned the con-artist.”

“Yes,” the second replied, “I wonder what was so great about the bridle she stole from him anyways.”

Shaw shot his eyes up in anger, flapping his wings he landed on the perch near the laughing ravens. Using his claws he grabbed them both and squeezed hard. “If you value your lives, you better tell me which direction the pink unicorn went,” he said, his voice dangerously low. It hinted towards the violence he was both willing and capable of inflicting, if his question wasn’t answered to his liking.

“Ack…” coughed the first raven, “if you let us go we’ll gladly tell you, young master.”

“In fact we’ll do even better,” the second added.

“Go on, I’m listening,” Shaw agreed, letting the ravens go.

Both ravens took off into the air and cawed, circling the bewildered griffin. “She was headed towards Londwhinium, but she has a twelve hour head start, you’ll never catch her,” the first said, dropping a rainbow colored feather on the ground by Shaw’s feet.

“Ah, but take our feathers, and attach them to your wings,” the second said, dropping another nearly identical feather, “and you shall cut your journey in half.”

“I thank you for the information and your gifts,” Shaw said, picking up the feathers and placing them in his wings. Unfurling his wings, they felt full of power, unlike any he ever felt before. It was almost as if he had just spent all night mounting Lady Zephyr. Before he took after Showboat to get his revenge, he asked, “May I have your names please?”

“Certainly,” the first cawed. “I am Lugh, watcher of the roads, and guardian of travelers.”

“And I am Loki,” the second said, “The refuge of thieves, and tricksters. Normally, I wouldn’t betray my followers, but you have an important role to play in the days ahead. Shaw, look to the mistress of the night, she will guide your path forward.”

Immediately both ravens disappeared in a cloud of black mist, leaving behind a lonely echoing caw, “Caw… caw… The mistress of the night, she will guide your path forward. Caw… caw…”

Shaw had no idea what the two ravens were referring to, or how they even knew his name, but he had only one thing on his mind, revenge. That little tart would pay for tricking him. Taking off into the air, Shaw beat his wings and flew faster than he imagined was even possible. The air crackled against him, as sparks of all colors jumped from his wings. Moving ever faster, he pierced the sound barrier. With an explosion, the first sonic rainboom of Equestria followed in his wake, shaking the earth beneath him. While flying through the air, he noticed his wings had changed their hue, to match the feathers he had received from the ravens. Smiling to himself, he chased after the thief who had stolen his property, his dignity, and although he didn’t want to admit it, his heart.

As the rainbow streaked across the skies of Equestria, Celestia’s Sun smiled down on the griffin benevolently, guiding his path towards the Everfree and Londwhinium.