Chapter 36: New Beginnings and Final Endings
"Last Chance" Stopover Arc
Even as far south as the company was the weather seemed mightily autumn-like; the smaller deciduous woody-plants in the mostly evergreen forest had finished turning and were beginning to fall, the company having hidden out for a week. The air was crisp, and the fallen leaves gave a spicy odor when trampled upon.
Ama walked in front of Essenta, taking point on level-ground; she was all-smiles, “Finally, girls! The deserts of the south are just a brief jaunt ahead!”
None of them seemed to be quite as tickled as the Mazan but all were glad to be on the way again. They’d had a nice, warm breakfast of eggs, fried potatoes, and biscuits with fruit on the side supplied by their new companion, fresh from the kitchens of Pallo’s estate; she’d met them at the base of the mountains as planned and they’d briefly picnicked.
“Did you girls hear about the mare that had a wooden foal?” Delia paddled along behind Essenta.
The former maid had been telling jokes all morning, most of them rather dirty.
“Uh… no,” Dechaa was behind Delia; the unicorn wasn’t expecting to hear anything nice.
Delia chuckled, “Seems she got nailed by the carpenter…”
All the girls halted abruptly; Wilka’s nose wound up in Dechaa’s ass. The joke was the nastiest one of the day, but it was still early; the former maid was just getting started.
Essenta and Zyra guffawed but some of them were at odds, exchanging disgusted looks. Loress chortled nonetheless.
Ama, inside a few seconds, showed clarity; her eyes lit up and her cheeks pinkened, “Oh… I see.”
The tall mare began to giggle, pleasing Delia immensely; Ama looked like a colt who’d been disputing with his friends amusing names for the vagina, meaning she was sniggering rather stupidly. But it’s not like the girls hadn’t covered that topic and many other sordid subjects themselves, in their hours and days and weeks and months of walking… “Baby-cannon” had won 5-to-2 over “axe-wound” most recently and “gobble-creature” wasn’t even in the running anymore by the second or third time they played.
Delia smiled, “Clovis said you had a pretty good funny bone, Ama.”
Ama began walking again, “I am learning, Delia; it is most fun… I am afraid I do not know many jokes, though… Mazan humor… does not translate well and it is… not very humorous to begin with; I say that with great sincerity.”
Delia hooted, “I’m afraid I’ve never heard it… And I’ve met quite a few Mazans traveling through the city; it’s on the major road from the southeastern coasts.”
Ama beamed, “Perhaps you did not pick up on it; many miss it.”
The other girls had also resumed walking.
Loress wasn’t sure why but she wanted to contribute; she said shyly, “A couple years back I heard what I think was the nastiest joke ever.”
Essenta, Zyra, Ama, and Delia were curious. The rest weren’t.
Delia turned back, considering the Terran with an eager smile, “Well, out with it; don’t say something like that and then be so coy…”
Dechaa whined, taking on an air of sickened gloom, “Oh, Loress, don’t…”
Loress, not terribly mischievous, would now gleefully spill; she blushed red as a cherry, “Okay… Two stallions are lost in the desert when they come across a dead pony’s carcass. One of them is so hungry, he drops straight to his knees and starts chowing down on it. The other one stares, waiting for his friend to finish. About two minutes later he throws up everything he ate.
The other one says, ‘I knew if I waited long enough I could get a hot meal!’"
That caught them off-guard.
“Oh, that is awful!” Essenta had a nervous smile tugging on her lips; the laugh came reluctantly.
The rest were disgusted, if not impressed, with hearing something like that out of Loress.
Delia laughed heartily, “That’s pretty good, Loress! I’ve heard a lot of jokes but never that one!”
Loress flushed crimson, not entirely regretting telling the icky joke. A few laughs were had by the girls.
Zyra had been waiting for an opportunity to share a joke, “I heard one at that little pub we hit east of Silas… Three brothers are sitting in their favorite pub enjoying some beers. There’s this old stallion that keeps accosting them.
The old stallion goes up to the younger stallions and says, ‘I fucked your mom!’
The brothers just ignore him.
After a while the old stallion shows up again and says, ‘I fucked your mom last night!’
The brothers still ignore him.
But the old stallion won’t stop; he approaches them again, ‘I had your mom in the ass!’
Still, the younger ones ignore him.
So, the old stallion comes up another time and says, ‘I had your mom in the ass this morning!’
This time the young stallions don’t ignore him; one of them slams down his mug and yells, ‘Damn it, Dad, you’re drunk! Go home already.’”
The punchline hit the girls with some force; other than Dechaa they were falling all over themselves.
Delia giggled, “Can’t let you outdo me… Here’s a good one!”
Orni fussed, “Oh, please… no more gross jokes for a while…”
The company could respect this; Orni was a good sport about things and had a few vulgar jokes in her repertoire, but the territory they were in had grown just foul.
Delia relented, “Okay… Anypony got a story?”
Nopony spoke up.
The new addition to their party yawned; they’d gotten an early start, “Okay… Falls to me then.”
They were leery but listened.
“A ship capsized in the ocean and only five ponies survived when they washed up on a deserted island: four stallions and one mare. They were all Earth ponies, so they couldn’t fly away or send a magical distress signal as unicorns might, so they had to wait and hope somepony would come close enough to get their attention. Once they had the basics of water, food, shelter… the stallions decided they had other needs to meet.”
What?
“Thankfully, the mare was okay with it and they came up with an agreement that they could each be with the mare for a week at a time and have all the sex and stuff they wanted,” Delia continued.
“Delia, how about—?” Dechaa tried to stop her; the unicorn looked ill.
“Now hold on, Dechaa…” Delia advised.
Not everypony was convinced with this advisement. Was this a story?
“They never saw any possible rescue, but they lived this way for a few years, each of the stallions getting the mare a week at a time.”
Dechaa cringed, “Delia…”
“Dechaa… relax,” Delia counseled. “Things were good. But one day the mare got sick and died. The first couple weeks were pretty bad for the four stallions. That became a month and it was just awful… After a couple more months it became unbearable. And after five months they began to lose their minds; it became so terrible they agreed it was time to bury her.”
Once again, the girls halted, horrified with their new companion’s sense of humor…
“Fu-u-u-u-uck…” Essenta breathed raspily; she looked a little green around the gills.
Other than Zyra, who was laughing very hard, most of the mares protested in disgust.
“Geez, Delia!”
“What’s your problem?!”
Ama was too stunned to speak; she just stood there, a little red in the cheeks.
Delia just laughed, “I never said it was a true story!”
Orni bristled, “I said, ‘no more gross jokes’!”
Delia waved a hoof, “Meh… I win anyway.”
Dechaa cried, “Since when were we having a contest?!”
Delia cast a comical leer the healer’s way, “The games of jibe and anecdote are always a contest, Miss Beiran.”
Orni simmered at Delia’s jollity, “You asked for it…”
Delia mocked the concept and the other girls weren’t confident Orni had much but would soon learn as they had in the past the little Knollwing was full of surprises.
Orni imparted, “A stallion is complaining to his friend at the pub, ‘My wife hasn't given me head in three years. She hasn’t let me put it in in a year. No hoofjobs either! She treats me like dirt and I'm ready to kill myself… I just want to get my pecker pulled, one way or another…’
His friend says ‘Well, you're in a tough spot. Luckily, I know somepony who could help you out. She gives the best head in town. And she even sings while doing it. And she’s clean to boot! It's truly amazing. Best part about it is that it's only one silver coin.’
The first stallion says, ‘That's amazing! Would you take me there?!’
‘I’ll take you to her on one condition. You gotta wear a blindfold,’ the second stallion says.
‘Sounds fair enough.’
They finally get to the lady and the unhappy stallion receives the finest knob-polishing of his life, wearing a blindfold. She's getting the facial in-and-out and singing at the same time. And it’s great…
After he’s blown his load he says, ‘That was the best! Seriously, how’d you pull off such a trick?’
She giggles, ‘Well, I've been singing since I was 5-years-old and lost my eye when I was 10.’”
For possibly the first time in Delia’s life she’d been bested at the game of joke. Much to everypony’s surprise they’d all wound up laughing for about 20 minutes; it was so immoderate there was no other response. Half the reason the joke had been so great was it came from the mouth of the mild-mannered Orni.
Sides hurting, they could just about see the edge of the desert over the forest. With great humor and enthusiasm, the girls cheered it up as they made their way south.
But within a moment of exiting the heavier woods, Ama halted, staying the rest of them, “Oh, just splendid…”
The others knew Ama’s look of disgust and well-used sarcasm stemmed from the sight of five hooded ponies in the path a distance up the road. It took the happy wind right out of their fun-sails, seeing that.
Essenta was still weary from all the recent trouble, “Oh, fucking great… Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
Zyra looked uneasy, “They’re waiting for somepony, Cap… Three guesses who.”
Delia wasn’t sure, “Nopony other than Clovis and his immediate staff and Pallo should know who you all are; I trust nopony spilled. Perhaps they're just travelers... but they could be bandits.”
Essenta bristled, “If that’s all they are then it should be easy.”
Ama noted the princess’s feral look and bonked the back of her head, “Relax and do not jump to conclusions. They may be, indeed, travelers.”
Loress called up, “Don’t hesitate; just move. We can see what’s going on once we get a little closer. Keep your eyes on the trees. It’s thinned out now but keep watch. Everypony play it cool.”
They’d try. Taking a casual-careful approach, the company paddled towards the five ponies blocking the road.
Moments Earlier…
Having finally caught up with their quarry and with some business concluded, five unicorn stallions lounged about on and near the road. Few used the path that circumvented “Last Chance” City as anypony going into the desert or coming out of it was almost universally in need of supplies and a little rest and recuperation. But this was where the stallions knew they needed to be.
Still, they didn’t have to wait all that much longer; that morning, unbeknownst to them, a certain party would soon be emerging from the woods to sidestep the city.
“I still can’t imagine what the fuck could’ve done that to him!” one of the stallions munched on an apple.
The second stallion looked over, “You keep saying that, Typhoon, but… yeah. I almost wish we’d been able to see that, despite the trouble it’s caused… Just to see that…! It’s not like he remembers; he usually blacks out when he gets gem-hungry.”
Typhoon considered, “Well, Thunder, I suppose leaving him to his own devices was a mistake this time… but it’s usually no problem to let him have it out a while, even with all that crystal on the floor; he burns himself out eating and is calm as can be after a bit.”
“Well,” mused the third, a semi-permanent grin plastered on his face. “The beast isn’t something one completely controls…”
“You said it, Lightning,” the apple-munching Typhoon was digging around in their store for another piece of fruit. “Wish we’d just been able to kill that asshole quietly in his bed like we planned. If he’d been sober and stayed put it would’ve saved us the unhinged jaw and the fractured skull… and all this waiting.”
“And the eyeball popping out!” said Lightning. “Shit, I actually thought he might die this time… He’s never been hurt that bad… ever. But he’s healing well; he’ll be back to normal in a few days. There’s nothing on Earth should’ve been able to do that to him… I mean, damn.”
“He’s been doing nothing but sleeping all week,” the fourth scratched himself, complaining of their plight. “I know we need to keep everypony clear of camp and it’s the only way he can heal up, but I wouldn’t mind being able to go into town…”
“Oh, stop your bitching, Frost!” Thunder bitched, shoving him over. “None of us like this lying low crap…”
The first bitcher confronted the second bitcher, “That’s it! I’m kicking your ass!”
“What are you gonna do, freeze my nuts to the ground?!”
Frost threw a hoof, “No, I’ll do it this way!”
The other two stallions rushed in and pulled them apart. Tempers were short for that kind of abruptness, but they’d been hiding in the woods a week with nothing but each other’s faces and the forest to stare at.
“Watch that nonsense,” their leader advised, slumping nearest the tree-line; he was unflapped but tired of the complaining. “You’ve been pissing at each other all week! It went fine; only a few got injured in the collateral and nopony else died that we know about.”
“But the mayor!” Typhoon was working on yet another apple. “Geez-a-ree…! Wind, I know we came out here on this killing, but he wasn’t part of the plan!”
Wind scowled, stretching, “Not this time, you mean… He was just some hebephilliac asshole anyway, and it’s not like he wasn’t on our list… More than one colt of Albin fell prey to his games. It makes me glad I never got that residency here when I was younger; that colts’ school was a bad place… It was convenient to do him sooner than later… I made the call. ‘Two rats with one torch’! Poof! What else happened was unforeseen and unlucky.”
Frost gave a fleeting look of mild contempt, “Unforseen and unlucky? It was a bitch-and-a-half digging him out, much less dragging his carcass back here with nopony seeing!”
But nopony could argue that Melchior wasn’t dead, dead, dead and very likely dancing the two-step in Hell. Nopony really cared beyond the fact he was dead outside of their boredom, grumblings, and heavy lifting they’d had to do.
Melchior had been on their list for many years. The slave-trade, sex-trade, rape, theft, and murder he’d organized in lieu of his more legitimate associations, pawned off on his crew, were hard not to notice to their cause.
The stallions had done one of the two things for which they’d come to “Last Chance”; they’d nearly finished the other but hadn’t quite seen it through. They’d let their quarry reach the city just for the convenience of killing Melchior in close proximity… and for another reason related to their target that might come to fruition very shortly, “might” being the keyword. Even if the fruit didn’t produce they’d still finish the job. The mayor had been a bonus, as a couple of the stallions had half-joked…
Wind perked up, peering up the road, “There they are…”
They saw a group of mares moving closer to them.
“Finally…” the Typhoon breathed.
They were at least satiated, if not quite pleased; soon they’d be able to finish this miserable business.
Lightning did a take; he was an excitable fellow, “Eight?! She picked up another one?!”
Thunder shrugged, “I guess…”
Wind looked towards the figures down the road, “I know they got caught up in the mayoral ball, but who knew they’d hole up in the forest the rest of the week?”
The excitable one chuckled, “After that trouble, I’m sure they weren’t too keen on staying in town. Gotta rest up; it’s a long way through the desert… And the jungle’s not much more pleasant with its hazards.”
“Remember well what we discussed,” Wind tried to relax. “Not a one of those mares is to be underestimated. I don’t know about the new one but any one of the rest of them could give us trouble… We talk, first, and hopefully that can move things along. We don’t want a fight on our hooves if it can be avoided. Nopony do anything rash. Hoods up, boys.”
Voicing ascent they pulled on hoods, stood in the road, and waited for Essenta and her company to come within hailing distance.
Two Weeks Earlier…
Aodh Radulf had lost track of how many days he’d been on the run. It was easy enough to know how many days he’d gone without sleep; the sun had risen and set three times since he’d actually holed up somewhere for a fitful attempt at rest.
He was alone, now, the last stallion of his guild having died about a week earlier. The burns he’d sustained were utterly horrific and it was shocking he’d managed to stay alive as long as he did; the others perished much sooner.
His troubles began about six weeks after he’d notified his old comrade King Ansgar Dale of his specialists’ catastrophic failure in capturing his strong-willed daughter and offing her traveling companions.
Radulf was afraid; he’d only been afraid two times prior in his life.
Born to a 14-year-old prostitute in the “City of Last Chances”, he’d barely acknowledged seeing her die. She was slit open, throat-to-tail, by a few sailors that didn’t want to pay for her services when they’d finished… in her own tent, too, with her son watching through a flap. At 6-years-old, he simply stood up, leaving her as she lay, and went to go find his dinner in an alleyway somewhere.
Soon after, he realized he could hurt ponies with his developing magic. By the age of 8-years, he worked closely with an enforcer for the “Fire Breathers” guild; he never failed in getting answers out of those who crossed them… and none lived, intentionally.
One day, half a lifetime later and on a whim, he blew his boss’s head clean off his body. At the age of 15-years, he’d ascended to the head of the guild and had become the most powerful gangster in “Last Chance” City. He’d learned well, and since he blew the heads off anypony that took issue with his running things, nopony bothered him much.
He formed a close alliance with a young “merchant” named Melchior and the two often exchanged favors, Radulf with his skills and Melchior with his seemingly bottomless resources. In those days the mayor was of the same ilk and they occasionally took in entertainment behind the bookcase in the mayoral study.
About the time he came of age, the city had changed… It had become too clean. Tired of loansharking and carrying out hits, he took his gang that wanted on the road. Gathering the most despicable unicorns he came across, they took up assassination and mercenary work; both paid well enough and there was never any shortage of the dubious pleasures both lines of work could bring in. Despite the distance he and Melchior maintained their relationship. If Melchior wanted somepony dead on the other side of the continent Radulf would see it done and Melchior gladly funded many of their endeavors on top of other things as payment.
In his early twenties, when most stallions were starting families, he was cheerfully undoing life in all shapes, forms, and ages. The “Fire Breathers” had a good thing going. But their first chance to strike rich came along during a brief border war around the Eastern Central Valley. The Dale and its allies were having trouble with a neighbor to the east, acting at the behest of the emperor of Albin in the far eastern continent. This was when he met Ansgar Dale.
The “Fire Breathers” were late in joining the war, the tide having already turned, but the Confederation of the Dale could no longer afford to continue fighting the stubborn king of Joeh despite their overwhelming advantage. Eager to take the job, their orders were simple: convince Joeh to surrender quickly and unconditionally. The rest was up to their own creativity.
The money was nothing to turn away from, but they had another stipulation: Radulf wanted a lordship, with lands. Considering the vacancies brought on by the war, it wasn’t an unreasonable thing. It was promised to him… he could adopt a new name and settle down with the fortune they’d make.
For the first time in Radulf’s entire life, something truly unsettled him. He wasn’t sure at first what it was and wouldn’t realize it for some time, but he knew he was… disconcerted. Ansgar Dale, the young king, volunteered to lead the excursion with 30 of his own soldiers; there was something strange about the stallion… He was an Earth pony… not too bright… not clever… too determined for his own good, or anypony else’s, for that matter… But for the first time in many years, Radulf was compelled to show his true face to somepony without killing them afterwards… this pony was Ansgar Dale.
After systematically burning their way through a few towns in western Joeh, Radulf learned what fear was. He experienced it himself in the last town they razed. An Earth pony stallion, just some small-time farmer living nearby, had angered Ansgar Dale; Radulf couldn’t even remember what it was about off the top of his head.
What Ansgar Dale did to that stallion’s wife and little filly scared him. It wasn’t so much what he’d done, either; it was pretty heinous but years of blood, guts, and all that came with had him hardened… not that there was much softness to begin with. He would laugh in his friend’s face about it for years to come but he wasn’t laughing on the inside. It would be years later, living as Lord Phokas and overseeing his orchards, when he realized what was so terrifying about Ansgar Dale.
Ansgar Dale was nothing… truly nothing special… He was stupid and petty. He was a bumbling fool, really. But when the mood caught him just right, his ruthlessness was unlike anything he’d ever imagined… and he could imagine vibrantly. The young king was capable of anything. It was… like a force of nature caught up somewhere it shouldn’t be… somewhere unnatural.
Radulf knew all 30 Dale stallions Ansgar Dale took on their little escapade deserted him, left the Dale, or committed suicide afterwards, and that was something even he himself had never inspired in his own stallions.
Things almost fell apart when the “Fire Breathers” made a side trip to a town called Oswald, but in the end, it was little more than a pebble in the road as far as their journey of misdeeds went. It was suspected a mercenary group hired by the Confederation had destroyed a town under its protection, so many were more than hesitant to pay what was promised. Nopony knew what group it was, as nopony had apparently survived the destruction of Oswald.
True to his word, despite others in the Confederation trying to cheat Radulf and his followers of the promised rewards, Ansgar Dale gave over- from his own personal coffers- the gold on top of a nice, little corner of the world and a lordship. The king didn’t care much about Oswald; it wasn’t his business, really. Radulf was as grateful for this as he was capable of; Ansgar Dale was the only king to keep his word.
For a decade, Radulf enjoyed himself more than he’d expected. He merely tolerated his “subjects” but relished the orchards. His guild occasionally cut loose for jobs and for fun. He and his stallions enjoyed their secret harem, made up of the orphan fillies and surviving mares of some of the “cutting loose”. Melchior still called for somepony’s head on a platter occasionally and he made no small contribution to their coffers and stable of mares, happily supplying the “Fire Breathers” with the very best fillies unfortunate enough to become involved with the dark side of “Last Chance” City.
It was a delight when Ansgar Dale had contacted him with the job of retrieving his eldest daughter. Showing his remarkably well-developed inconsistency of character, he fumbled through before finally deciding everypony in the group but his daughter had to die. Radulf had never repaid the debt owed Ansgar Dale, so he did it as a favor.
He should’ve better remembered the name “Argon”, but he’d tried and failed in many things. Plus, many families of mages adopted the names of the “Noble Elements”; Radulf could name three families calling themselves “Xenon”, and he’d killed off one of them. The Fire Diamond was merely another trinket to him… though a possibly powerful one he didn’t manage to get; its lost potential was of little standing in the grand scheme of things.
What they’d done in Oswald was a routine thing. When a stallion kills and sets alight towns as easily as blowing his nose, he might not be blamed for failing to remember everything he ever did. He’d never really believed the gem to be all that powerful, anyway… that Tatius Argon had been deceiving him. He’d also never planned to give Tatius Argon a thing in exchange; he’d likely have wound up killing him anyway upon transferring the Fire Diamond to his niece if he survived the operation to begin with.
This led to the second time Radulf knew fear: he saw the Argon family crest burned into the boulder, below a message promising death to the “Fire Breathers” at the campsite in which the Princess and her friends had taken up. The threat in and of itself didn’t scare him. He could sense the Fire Diamond; it left unmistakable traces. Radulf knew the “feel” of the diamond well, spending time with and hoping to pry it out of and/or away from the fool Tatius Argon. And this magic wasn’t of the fool who’d tried to sell out his niece; it was phenomenally more powerful. The pieces of his best agents stacked in the firepit didn’t help his dread much, either.
Radulf had never learned what happened to Tatius Argon or his little niece; he’d assumed they’d died and gave little more thought to it. But niece and nephew found the old doctor; the surgery was successful, at least for the filly.
Zyra Argon was alive… she somehow knew the “Fire Breathers” destroyed Oswald- and she probably knew they killed her family… and she knew who tried to kill the little traveling company. Given the “Fire Breathers” were known to serve the Confederation, specifically the Dale and its king, it didn’t take a genius to figure out Ansgar Dale likely sent the “Fire Breathers” after his own daughter.
Radulf was at this point still reasonably sure he was safe; nopony outside his guild knew who he was. “Aodh Radulf” had disappeared from the world. To his subjects and the world, he was Lord Phokas, a modest fruit grower. But somepony must’ve had an inkling, because six weeks after severing ties with Ansgar Dale for good five robed unicorn stallions with a dragon came through on an otherwise normal day and killed most of the guild.
Miraculously not destroying any of his land or harming any of his subjects, the attackers freed his sex-slaves and revealed to everypony just who had been lording over them the last 10 years.
Evading the burns that wound up killing the last of his followers, Radulf knew fear a third time; he’d been feeling it since escaping with his life and not much else. It was lost to him how he’d managed to stay ahead of his pursuers… They had a dragon. But choosing to not question why, he kept moving. In the open steppe, he felt quite exposed; finding him would be easy if they managed to catch up.
Running, running, running… He was exhausted. But he was within reach of his goal. Beginning to climb the southern mountains, he knew his destination was only another couple of days away. Driven by fear, adrenaline, and the promise of safety, he kept going. There, he could hide… change his face… change his name… and go back to doing the same things upon which he’d cut his teeth. He was going back home, to where it all began. Nopony would even know he was there…
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Ahh, some not that clean jokes along the trip to bond are great.
Hooded targets! uhh let's see how the girls dispatch them. This'll be much fun.
And isn't it kind if sad that the poor "Fire Breathers" are now extinguished? (nah not really, right?)
That really was a short and refreshing chapter.
Soo, as always: thank you for the hard work and the new fun chapter.
Have some twist bread, chocolate cake, coffee, tea, beer, Grog and hot cocoa!
9212760
In some ways I think you will be quite happy and rather disappointed with the next chapter. But you'll like it overall, I'm sure.
9213367
I would be disappointed if there weren'T parts I don't like that much. After all you're writing this for you and us all and not just for me.
Up to now in neither of your storys I thought one chapter ruins the story, but don't worry, if the day comes I think that, you'll read about it.
And now I'll go and make some food for the rest of the group... I really should shut up when someone asks who makes breakfast...(and yes, they just got up... lazy bunch. We weren't up that long, just until 6! Well, I never slept, I made buns and some small bread loafs...)
Have a great time!
9213756
What I meant is you'll like the chapter overall; a few very important things happen. But an expectation you may have won't be fulfilled.
I must once again question the story's world being one where there seems to be rampant violence, slavery, and sex trafficking that society seems to be totally okay with, and yet all the non-villain characters then seem to always have modern attitudes on the matters.
Other than that, this threw me for a loop when it jumped away from the mains to give us an inside view of the stallions, and then worse when it started going on about a really dark backstory.
9283428
There's a world of difference between ponies being okay with all the awful things around them and just accepting they exist. This is true of all times and cannot be chalked up to "modern" attitudes and thinking, though I understand what you mean by "modern", believe me.
I know the stallions showing up to cause mischief for the girls was abrupt. It certainly is and will be for them. I was going to have this and the next chapter as one but didn't feel like dumping a larger chapter.
Just keep reading; things pick up immediately and conclude a few things convincingly. And I hope you at least got a chuckle out of some of the jokes the girls exchange. It will happen occasionally.
Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment. I do value it.