The Iron Chancellor

by Radical Centrist

'Civilising' the minotaurs (Unposted Chapter)

Northeastern territories of the minotaur tribes

Gunn Von Bromhead sat perched atop a cloud; overlooking the vast plains and hills below. Behind him were several other griffons; many being glory-seeking recruits whilst two were his best mates.

They had scoured the entire region, thirsting for a battle, yet they only tasted dissapointment, as a battle they had imagined and hoped for never materialised.

Bromhead clicked his tongue impatiently. He had lied to undertake this 'expedition'; justifying their group simply wished to scout an area to settle before bringing in their families. Due to this, his 'mission' had to be successful, else they would've lied for nothing.

He turned to his men, who adorned expressions that screamed boredom, dissapointment and tiredness. They had all expected a fight on the first day, but the minotaur's lands were too decentralised, uncontrolled, vast and sparsely populated on the outskirts to offer them any challenges, as they had not met a single minotaur tribesman since they had entered their 'territories'.

Bromhead began to grow doubtful of the validity of their map, as, after all, it wasn't made by a German, but a foreign pony. He sighed.

"Didn't know you junkers would stoop so low to scam us." A soldier yawned out,

"Yeah! Where's all the glory? Adventure? Prestige?!" Another soldier frustratingly groaned out.

Before Bromhead could rebut, his friend John Chard intervened, "Get over yourselves! You all joined for the prospects of expanding our glorious empire! Not for your own gains!" He chastised.

His second mate, Robert Maxfield joined in as well, "You realise junkers are exclusively selected by our emperors? By insulting them, you are in extension, insulting our emperors as well." He stated matter-of-factly.

Bromhead simply nodded quietly in the background; agreeing with them both. The men meanwhile, groaned quietly as they continued to scan the barren plains.

As Bromhead turned to continue doing essentially nothing, he was interrupted by a light tap from John

"Hey... Maybe we should attack first? The minotaurs are a collection of tribes after all, and they don't seem to care about their borders too much." John hesitantly offered.

"But who do we attack?" Bromhead asked; his attention piqued for literally anything at this point.

Robert suddenly appeared in between the two griffons and presented a map, "The city of Zulu." He pointed on the map, "The largest city, if not the only city in all of the minotaur lands... Bloated with the loot and slaves of the ponies they had raided..." He offered ominously.

Bromhead and John stared at the map; centring their gaze at where Robert was pointing. "...They're very close..." Bromhead muttered, as John idly nodded.

Robert unscrolled the map in front of them, causing the tips to nearly brush their beak's tip. "Yep! And we could free the slaves and help improve the relations between Equestria and Germany." Robert grinned as he tucked the map away in his coat. "It's a win-win." He shrugged with a grin.

Bromhead and John stared at each other for a second, before Bromhead suddenly shouted, "All men! Ready yourselves for travel!" He continued enthusiastically, "We'll march west! And strike their largest and richest city! Zulu!"

---

Intermission: History tidbit & Foreshadowing

The minotaurs had never really had a history of slavery. Some traces of its practice would, however, be traced during the buffalo-minotaur wars; where the minotaurs would enslave the buffalos or POWS and vice versa.

However, the raids against the Equestrians would yield not only gold but hordes of pony prisoners which they had first hoped to ransom back to the unicorn overlords.

However, due to the latter's refusal to take them back, the minotaurs would improvise by enslaving the ponies; which would accidentally trigger a boom of mercantile and economic development of the minotaur tribes, as cities would be built around slave selling hotspots.

The influx of trade and availability of capital would foster the growth of scientific and cultural development; rapidly feudalising the tribes that bordered the Equestrians. The future seemed bright for the minotaurs, as they soon believed they would dominate their region.

But then, the griffons came.

They would at first mistake them for their western look-alikes, but soon, they would realise that they were COMPLETELY different. Lessons would be learnt not by words or tales, but with lead and blood.

---

City of Zulu: The garrison

A minotaur warrior sighed boredly, for he and his fellow tribesmen had been bestowed the unhonourable positions as 'guards' for an uneventful, and quite frankly, an unremarkable city.

For him, Zulu was small and disappointing, as he had heard of glorious tales of great minotaur champions who had raided far greater, and grander cities.

Zulu may have been the largest and richest city of the minotaur tribes, but its position mainly revolved around being one of the only few cities the minotaur tribes even had.

For Zulu was small, and its 'buildings' resembled more of a war tent during campaigns. Actual buildings were sparse, and the only 'feudal' ones were forts whose designs were 'borrowed' from their northern 'neighbours'.

The only thing truly remarkable about Zulu was its slave market, as its location made it a rallying point for raiders who would often return with slaves and loot. The former 'goods' would often be hauled with their hooves tied and presented in an auction, whilst the latter would be lavishly spent for recreation.

The guard had as little pity for the slaves as their unicorn overlords had for them, as it was his duty to be uncaring, for that in a case of a battle against them, he would not hesitate to go for the kill.

Sometimes the ponies would pleadingly glance at the guards or bystanders, however, their teary gazes would have no effect, as they would all quietly ignore them.

The guard sighed once more, as he felt the gaze of a crying filly on the side of his head; prompting him to turn away from it with a grumble. "Damn ponies... They're too soft and weak! What do they think crying would achieve?!" The guard growled.

As the guard continued to criticise the ponies in his mind, he spotted several clouds overhead him; unusually de-elevated. He blinked confusedly, then squinted towards them.

"Where did those come from?" He pondered, as he speculated two scenarios: either that they were clouds that drifted off after being detached by either a griffon or pegasus or that they harboured a strikeforce from said races.

"Can't be the second scenario... He reasoned, as they had a guard in a watchtower nearby for the sole purposes of warning against aerial attacks, which meant it was just another lazy griffon or pegasus who had neglected to return the pieces of clouds.

The guard glanced towards the watchtowers to confirm his theory but was taken aback by the missing presence of a guard within it. "What-?! Where in Tartarus are they?!" He cursed, as he leaned for a better look.

Before the guard could even realise the danger they were in, his face caved outwards; a bullet hole revealing itself between his horns. The other guards nearby recoiled from their suddenly dead comrade.

From the distance, a proning griffon cocked his rifle.

From the skies, a voice boomed out from a cloud, "OPEN FIRE!"

A deluge of barrels poked from the clouds above; a singular maxim barrel poking out from a particularly larger cloud.

Silence filled the air, as the minotaurs simply stared upwards; motionless and confused.

Then, the barrels lit up.

Muzzles flashed against the clouds, as the skies filled with noises of rifles booming and a machine gun rattling.

The ground below was sheer chaos; 'civilians' and warriors alike scrambling away from the splashes of bullets that would flip the soils.

Many futilely ran, only to be chased by a trace of bullets that would rip across their torso once it caught up. Others would have their heads and horns shattered and caved, as precise rifles rained down lead upon them.

The tents of Zulu would stand no match against the firepower of the griffons, as loosed grenades and concentrated fire would topple the improvised dwellings; ripping clean holes through its thin walls and hitting anybody that took shelter within it.

The slaves meanwhile looked on with horror and fear; their stomachs burning from the gore and them being terrified of their fate, as bullets narrowly traced around them, as their minotaur handlers dived for cover.

"Slingers! At 12'O !" A griffon shouted as he pointed towards a minotaur who was swinging a sling.

The latter minotaur surged forward; his stance readied to sling his projectile towards the clouds. However, before he could lean backwards, a shot rang through the air; hitting home; into his skull.

"I gottem'. But the rest are running away." He grumbled as he spotted the city's inhabitants fleeing in every direction.

Bromhead glared at the fleeing minotaurs. "Target those with the most gold... The rest should inform the others of our arrival." He stated.

"First, free the slaves and prepare encampment. I've already scouted a suitable area where we can dig in." John ordered as he flew down to untie the first slaves.

As he did, the ponies crawled away from the approaching griffon; their eyes and body trembling with fear of what the predator before them wished to do with them.

Their fear only intensified as John twisted the bayonet off his rifle; seemingly intending to cut them up. "Hold still. There's nothing to worry about..." The griffon softly assured; achieving the opposite results in calming the ponies down.

Before the griffon could approach the cornered ponies, however, a lone mare jumped in between them; grinding her teeth in a growl to protect the tied ponies.

"NOT A STEP CLOSER YOU BUTCHER!" Petal Vine threatened; her hooves stretched out to protect the defenceless ponies behind her.

John tilted his head confusedly at the mare, before realising how threatening he looked. He face-clawed. The mare raised a brow.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I really do mean no trouble," John reassured, as his men slowly descended around him. "I simply aimed to cut the rope that ties you all." He said, as he skillfully tucked his bayonet away onto his belt.

Petal tried to object but stopped herself once realising she was in no position to argue or criticise the griffon's lack of self-awareness/image. She sighed weakly.

"Seems like you injured yourself trying to pry your rope off there ma'am." John noticed, "Would you mind if we were to look at it?" He offered; attempting to put aside his previous mistakes, as he reached out his claws and apologetically grinned at the mare.

Petal weakly nodded.

All around the city, the griffons freed the pony slaves. Many of them finding hard to ignore the rotting and still-bleeding corpses of minotaurs that littered all over the streets.

Looting delayed the encampment, and many of the ponies were forced to stay or even help the griffons loot the place, as they had no directions nor safety alone.

On a more positive note, the German's policy of machine-gun centric squads (newly introduced by Rommel) would mean that the Maxim machine guns would still have some ammo left. However, their suply situation was not great (it literally didn't exist).

For now, they could only wait for the horde they knew would come. As the griffons could hear and feel the incoming horde.

They knew there was no running. They could not simply abandon their loot and their 'allies'. The best option was to fortify; defend their gains and protect their 'allies' lives.

Author's Note:

Old Author's Note: (Before I cancelled the story)
Inspired by the Anglo-Zulu war. (Except it's the Germans attacking)

The Germans are using hollow point /expanding bullets which were banned for warfare in 1899. It's mostly used for hunting, as the bullet would 'expand' in its victims instead of penetrating; meaning it would cause more damage to its victim (if they are unarmoured)

They're not on Earth, so they are not following any rules.

Present Author's note:
Damn, I literally never re-read my chapters after writing them, but even glimpsing this a little bit to post the last of my unposted works brings alotta memories.

Comments

[Radical Centrist]

y'all positivity finally convinced me to post the last of my unposted garbage.

What a journey this was. You fellas are all aight.

This is not an implication for continuing this story; I am only posting chapters that I had already written, but was hesitant to post before.

[Bronycommander]

Ah, i hope this wont backfire on you