As It Should Be

by JackobolTrades

First published

(Not a Dark Souls crossover, cover image coincidental.) A hero is sent to Equestria at Celestia's behest. What could possibly warrant the summoning of such a powerful warrior during times of peace, and why do these Ponies keep bothering him?

Servants have their uses, no matter their form, station or handicaps. Marwolaeth Pydredd is one such servant, cursed with an infernal visage that causes any who look upon him to convulse in fear before locating the nearest set of torches and pitchforks. As such, Marwolaeth hides his body underneath layers upon layers of metal and leather, concealing all but the barest glimpse of his eyes with shining metal and sturdy chainmail. For years immemorial Marwolaeth has been guided from town to town, between planes and even into the dens of powerful creatures at the behest of his master, who lends his skills to the highest bidders.

Marwolaeth's newest charge is the peaceful land of Equestria, lent to Princess Celestia herself, in order to guard the Elements of Harmony. Not even five minutes into his new assignment is Marwolaeth asking himself why he's there. A peaceful land has no need for a hardened warrior, and he has no need for the rest such an assignment would provide. What Marwolaeth doesn't know, though, is that trouble is brewing on the horizon, and just under his nose.

Edited by G3k0771

Chapter 1: New Assignment

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Marwolaeth frowned beneath his helmet as the woman approached him. He did not recognize her, but she was tattooed in the signature chin and jowl symbols of this village. Undoubtedly, she was approaching to thank and reward him for ridding the area of encroaching monsters, like the last five people that had spoken to him. This one, however, was different. She approached with a coy smile and sultry sway of the hips, chest thrust forward and head held high. This one would be offering herself as a reward.

“My greetings, great hero.” She said, voice throaty and rich. Marwolaeth could almost see the perfume wafting from her skin. He could tell that this one would cause a scene. He decided to nip it in the bud, or at least run preemptive damage control.

“I am no great hero.” He cut her off before she could continue. “Merely a man doing as he is told.”

“Even so, I am honoured to meet such a powerful warrior. May I be graced with knowing your name?”

Marwolaeth rolled his eyes, though she couldn’t see them from behind his helmet. “You may call my Pydredd.”

The woman looked put out. She had, in all likelihood, known his name already, as it had been passed forward preceding his arrival. He had given her his formal last name, a clear sign that he was not interested. She pressed on, regardless.

“My name is Avana. I had merely wanted to be sure; you were rewarded for your actions, were you not?”

Marwolaeth was accustomed to this question as an initiation of what he had dubbed the ‘courting process.’ Step one, inquire about rewards received, despite knowing full well that had not received any, nor asked for them, nor desired them, nor allowed them.

“No. I have not been given material reward. The knowledge that I have served the public and pleased the gods is reward enough for me.” The fact that doing so was part of his contract, and brought him one step closer to freedom helped.

“Well, I simply cannot allow such an oversight. Perhaps I could rally the townsfolk to pull together a suitable reward?” Step two; give the appearance of caring and offer a reward from the whole town, despite telling no one beforehand, also knowing that it would be turned down.

“I could not ask that of you. Such a small village needs every asset it can muster for when the lord’s taxmen make their rounds.” Many suitors would break off at this step at the insult to their home, polite as it may have been.

“If you won’t let me organize a reward for you, allow me to at least give you something. It will be no problem for me, I assure you, and I feel that I simply must properly compensate you for your time.” Step three; appear generous and well cared for, still knowing that the reward would be refused.

“While I appreciate the offer, I must refuse. I must travel as light as I can, even if it means forgoing finery and coin.” While not completely true, it was not a lie. Marwolaeth could have purchased a horse to carry his rewards, but he much preferred not giving the suitors hope, as he was barred from accepting such rewards for his actions.

“Ah, I see.” The woman winked at Marwolaeth. “If I cannot give you something for the journey, perhaps I can make your stay here a tad more comfortable? I would not be opposed to letting you stay in my house until such time that you would leave.” Step four; make a show of kindness, subtly implying true intentions.

“I am afraid that it won’t be necessary. I leave as soon as possible. I must reach the next conflict as swiftly as possible.” Many women became flustered at this point due to Marwolaeth’s steady voice and refusal of all rewards, even those not prohibited by his order. This woman, though, only became more determined.

“Oh, such gallantry. At the very least, allow me to fetch you more to eat. No man should be going hungry at a feast, especially when he is the subject of honour.” Step five, offer food under the assumption that the fastest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. Even then, often the food is drugged or otherwise tampered with to cause compliance or overwhelming lust.

“Thank you, but no. I have eaten my fill, and must be on my way soon.” The majority of suitors abandon the pursuit at this point, thinking of no way else to entice their hero into their bed.

“Very well, I will not keep the great hero from his duties.” Marwolaeth smirked to himself and cocked an eyebrow. This one was clever, playing the innocent peasant, but he could feel the final step of the courting process inexorably come to pass. “Before you go, might I ask for one small boon?”

Step six, ask for one trivial favour. This could split one of three ways. Either she would brazenly ask for his company in bed, ask for a kiss, or ask to see his face. The first two were easy to deal with: a flat ‘no’ and they would be on their way. The last one, though, the knowledge of what their escaping prey looked like, the image of which would go into a hall of those that got away, was Marwolaeth’s least favourite outcome.

“Might I know the face of our great liberator?”

There could be no refusal without insult. There could be no polite misdirection.

Marwolaeth closed his eyes and sighed. “Very well.”

There could only be chaos.

Marwolaeth unstrapped his helmet and slowly lifted it from his head. The woman’s face slowly fell from disappointment and anticipation to horror.

Marwolaeth kept his visage hidden at all times.

Marwolaeth kept his face concealed at all costs.

But it was inevitable.

Through one way or another, every town learned of his curse.

The woman screamed and fell to the ground.

Silence reigned as every head turned to seek the disturbance.

Every jaw fell as they saw what their hero truly was.

Swarthy skin turned pale. Pupils shrunk to pinpricks.

‘No wonder he was so powerful.’ The thought ran through many minds.

The woman ran.

Ran from the piercing eyes.

Ran from the hated skin.

Ran from the grotesque head.

Ran from the binding tattoos.

Ran from the monstrosity that had the gall to exist.

Ran from the realization of what she had been attempting to bed.

Marwolaeth quickly put his helmet back on, concealing his infernal heritage. No one could look away from him, the sight of his face burned into their minds. Only one person dared move.

The guard captain quietly walked up to the hulking figure concealed beneath layers of metal and chain and leather. He put his hands to his hips and looked up into the impassive faceguard of Marwolaeth’s helmet.

“I think that it’s about time that you get moving, stranger.” The military man said loudly, his voice echoing across the hall.

“I agree. There is nothing for me here, and I must reach the next conflict swiftly. Be safe, be healthy.” Marwolaeth quickly made his way to the door and retrieved his weaponry before the shocked stupor could wear off of his hosts.

Marwolaeth briefly pondered about the woman who had attempted to seduce him. He was rather impressed with her, all things considered. Few people approached him to begin with, and even fewer progressed to step six of the courting process. Of those few, only a handful asked to see his face. Those ones he held in his mind, a reminder of who he was and what he did.

A familiar sense of foreboding and the smell of lilac was the only warning Marwolaeth received before the air directly in his path split in two with the hair raising sound of rending flesh. On the other side of the rift, a spindly man with two goat horns on his head and a set of goat legs stood on a well-trodden dirt path in the middle of a forest. The satyr moved to the side as Marwolaeth walked unflinchingly through the rift, and trotted by his side. The clanging and clacking of the large man’s armour drowned the small man’s soft hoofsteps.

“You’re early.” The satyr chirped in a nasally voice. “Take another foray into the love scene?”

Marwolaeth grunted. “Aye. Another for my collection of faces twisted by horror.”

“Ah, she completed the courting process and asked for some face time, eh? Tsk, a shame. You need to relax some, and a woman would help dearly with that.”

“Hmph. What woman would lay with what is underneath this armour, Tade? No, chaste I have been and chaste I shall stay.”

“You still need to relax, though. Take some enjoyment in your work; maybe take a break now and then!”

“Whether or not I enjoy the tasks set before me, I will not rest until my contract is complete.”

“Bah, fine. Guess Tode owes me and Tude ten crystals. Well, since you’re going to walk to the next assignment like you always do, I’ve got some good news, some neutral news, and some bad news.”

“Best to worst.”

“The good news is that your task is very straightforward: Guard the lives of seven important figures of this kingdom. The neutral news is that this is an alternate plane, so be prepared for the locals to look a bit weird. The bad news is that you’ll be stuck with this assignment until either your contact to the contractors believes that the danger has passed, or you fail.”

Marwolaeth growled under his breath. “I never fail. I might be here for some time then, I gather?”

“Yeah, the kingdom you’ll be working for has been at peace for centuries and have what basically amounts to a ceremonial guard and a small set of covert operatives.” Tade pulled a scroll from one of his tunic pockets and unfurled it, taking a quick peek at its contents. “From the looks of things, they tend to overreact to any danger, and don’t deal with threats very well. You may very well be here for the rest of these important figures for the rest of their natural lives, however long they may be.”

Marwolaeth rubbed the temples of his helmet, more out of muscle memory and habit than for the contact. “Wonderful. Next you’ll be telling me that this set of clients is a harem of women.” He groaned at the sheepish look on Tade’s face.

“Well, six out of the seven are female, the last is a male, but is young.”

“This will not end well. Not that it ever does.”

“Ah cheer up. From what I’ve been told, the entire population runs this kind of ratio.”

“Matriarchy?”

“Ayep. Apparently they used to be some sort of nomadic society that was structured much like a herd of animals, with only a few males kept for breeding purposes. They’ve moved past that bit, into a Diarchy.”

“Will I be under the command of these people I am to guard?”

“No, but you will be under the command of the contract renter, who is one of the ruling figures in the Diarchy.”

“Good. Hopefully she has enough sense not to order me to follow their orders, or to use me for breeding purposes. I will take my first failure if these beings attempt to cross lines.”

“Of course, of course.” Tade looked down the path. “Ah, here we are. The group you are to meet should be waiting for you at the edge of the forest. That’s my cue to head off.”

Marwolaeth grunted and affirmative and shook Tade’s hand before the satyr stomped the ground three times and disappeared into a hole in the ground that opened and closed with the scent of lilac and the sound of tearing meat.

Marwolaeth continued down the dirt path that wound between tall trees, a blanket of mist wafting around his shins. As he began to sense a thinning in the surrounding trees, he heard the muttering of women, and knew he was close. As he approached, he could begin to hear the conversation that his group of charges had begun.

“I know that, but nopony else does. Princess Celestia wants to make sure she’s taken every precaution she can, and if bargaining with some monster from the Everfree is what she wants to do, then who are we to stop her?”

“As right as you may be, Twilight, I question the wisdom that Foreign Tongue showed in having us meet him just as he arrives.”

“I’m sure that it’s merely a matter of culture shock, who knows what this mon-”

“Girls, shh, shh, I hear something!”

“What are y’all talkin’ abou- No, wait, Ah hear it, too.”

“It-it-it-it s-s-sounds b-big…”

The only sound for the next few seconds was the sound of armour as Marwolaeth walked until he broke the tree line. There was a large intake of breath from the gathered beings in front of him, so he took their stunned silence to survey his charges.

They were horses. Small, colourful horses, some with horns, others with wings, some with neither. One of them even had both. Were it not for his warning beforehand, Marwolaeth would have fumbled for identifying their genders. The one that had both wings and a horn was a light purple, with a mane and tail of darker purple with streaks of pink in both. The other one with a horn was a pale off-white with a curled purple mane. One of the others with wings was blue of coat with a prismatic display of colours in her mane. The other winged one was somewhat difficult to see, as she was hiding behind the larger horse with both wings and a horn, but Marwolaeth could see a light yellow coat and rosy pink tail. Of the two remaining creatures, one was orange with freckles in her coat and some kind of large hat covering a straw yellow mane. The last was pink, with another shade of pink in her mane. All of them gazed upon him and, perhaps, upon their reflections in his armour.

All except for the pink one, who had an anatomically impossibly large smile on her face as she bounced up and down in place, something else a normal horse would have had trouble doing. Marwolaeth had to forcibly remind himself that this was an alternate plane, and thus obeyed different rules than his native one.

After three long minutes of silence, the pink one seemed to explode and appeared directly in front of Marwolaeth standing on her hind legs, supporting her front hooves on his chest.

“Wow, you’re reeealy tall, mister!” She inhaled deeply, almost like an elongated gasp. “Are you the monster that Princess Celestia bought? Because that would be really cool, ‘cuz you’re so tall and shiny and hard and ooh, is this armor or skin or carapace? Do you like cupcakes, oh silly me, of course you like cupcakes, everypony likes cupcakes, but then you’re not a pony are you? I’m Pinkamena Diane Pie, but everypony just calls me Pinkie Pie, and I’m a baker and singer and dancer and Element of Laughter and artíst and party planner and party executioner and welcoming partier and what’s your name?”

Marwolaeth blinked at the mass of pink hair bouncing around just outside his visor. Even standing tall, the being barely reached his shoulders. He waited for a few seconds before realizing that this Pinkie Pie had begun introductions.

“Greetings Pinkamena. I am Marwolaeth Pydredd. Before we continue: a clarification. Your princess did not buy me. She rented my services. Neither she, nor any of you, owns my contract and I. She is not my master, and neither are any of you. You are clients. Know your places and you will have my service. Now, I was told that there would be seven under my protection, but there are only six here. Where is the seventh?”

The pink one, Pinkamena, backed off sheepishly while the large purple one walked up to him. Standing on all fours, this large one reached his waist, while the others reached closer to the bottom of his pelvis.

“Ahem, yes, uh, we left Spike at the library. A dangerous place like the Everfree Forest is not someplace he should be. Ah, but introductions. My name is Princess-” Marwolaeth kept his stoic demeanor, but a short, almost silent groan issued from his throat. “-Twilight Sparkle, Element of Magic, librarian of the Golden Oaks Library, and student to Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia.”

The orange one stepped up next. “Ah’m Applejack, Element of Honesty, and Ah run Sweet Apple Acres, the best apple orchard in Equestria!” Another nearly silent groan escaped from Marwolaeth as he heard the name of the place he was in.

The blue one flew up to Marwolaeth’s face and scowled at his helmet. “I’m Rainbow Dash, Element of Loyalty, the fastest flier in all of Equestria and all around most awesomest pony to ever exist, and I’ve got my eye on you, buster.” Rainbow Dash jabbed a hoof into his chest, causing a hollow gong to ring forth, before drifting backwards. Marwolaeth rolled his eyes. This one was not only arrogant, but egotistical as well. She would be the biggest problem, he could already tell.

The white one stepped forth and fluttered her eyelashes at Marwolaeth, who got a feeling of dread building in his gut. “I am Rarity, Element of Generosity, and fashionista extraordinaire, and I must say that while your armour certainly is imposing, I could whip up a suitable garm-”

“The armour stays on.” Marwolaeth interrupted. Rarity harrumphed and backed off as Applejack pushed the yellow one forward.

The yellow one huddled in a ball at Marwolaeth’s feet, whimpering. Twilight sighed and gestured to her. “That’s Fluttershy, the Element of Kindness. She takes care of lost and sick animals. You, uh, kind of intimidate her.”

“Good. I am your guard, not your friend.”

“But-”

Marwolaeth held up a hand to stall Pinkamena. “For now. We shall see what happens over the course of time. This seventh member of your party, Spike. What does he do?”

Twilight spoke up once more. “He’s my assistant at the library. When you first see him, don’t panic.”

“What cause would I have to panic?”

“Well… He’s a dragon.”

“How big?”

“I kno- Uh, what?”

“I was told that the seventh member was young. How large is this dragon, Spike?”

“Uh, well he stands about as tall as a pony’s shoulders on two legs, about the size of a foal on four, why?”

“How old is he?”

“He’s only a year away to being of legal age in Equestria, but dragons age differ-”

“He is malnourished.”

“Excuse me?”

“A dragon of that age and size in the wild would be prey for many a creature. He should at least be as large as you.”

“Ah- wh- How would you know? Dragons are a very secretive species; nopony knows how they grow except the dragons themselves. Besides, Spike lives with Ponies, he doesn’t need to be large and violent.”

“Then ask this Spike’s caretaker if she had ever consulted a dragon.”

Twilight seemed to take offense to that. “I am Spike’s caretaker!”

“Then why have you not consulted a dragon?”

“We tried!”

“Hm. Dragons here must hoard their secrets harder than those of my home. Very well.”

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash flew up into Marwolaeth’s visor again. “What’s with the interrogation, huh? What’s it to you how big Spike is?”

Marwolaeth stared into Rainbow Dash’s eyes. “I am merely getting acquainted with my clients. If I am to protect you, I need to know your capabilities and weaknesses, so as to know when to intervene and when to allow you to solve your own problems.”

“Oh yeah? And what if you’re just some kind of evil spy, sent to eliminate Equestria’s best line of defense?”

Marwolaeth sighed and turned to the rest of his charges. “Can any of you here use magic?”

Twilight nodded. “Yes, both Rarity and I can cast magic, though all of the Pony races have an innate connection to Mana, why?”

Marwolaeth turned his head back to Rainbow Dash. “Then that means that I can show you all this.” Marwolaeth clenched his left fist and delved his mind into the feeling of his bones, drawing power from their marrow. Green swirls and lines began to outline themselves on his armour at the wrists, ankles, and neck. “These are the marks of my contract. They bind my being to the will of my masters and protect my body from possession and control. If I were a spy, I would not openly show where my allegiances lie.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know if you’re telling the truth?” Rainbow Dash asked, butting her head into the faceplate.

“Actually Rainbow,” Twilight said. “I’ve heard about beings like this. Projections of their master’s will, they cannot tell a lie and cannot be swayed from their orders or their master. They adhere to their master’s tenets and codes and carry the marks of servitude on their person. I’ve never actually seen one before…”

“…Alright, fine. But I’m still watching you, mister.” Rainbow glared at Marwolaeth, who nodded at her.

“Likewise.”

“Wait, Marwolaeth-” Twilight began.

“Call me Pydredd.”

“Uh, okay. Pydredd, how do you know so much about dragons?”

“A previous client was a dragon matriarch. She had rented me to protect her hoard as she laid eggs and raised her young. Her intent was to keep me as part of her hoard, but she learned the hard way that if a client proves unreasonable or attempts trickery with my master, the loan is considered void and I am extracted from my position.”

“Alright, but that doesn’t really answer my question. If you found out her true intentions, why did you stay?”

“Perhaps I should explain further. I was loaned to this dragon under the stipulation that I be returned as soon as the drakes left the nest. Drakes leave the nest after twenty years, when they are as tall as I at the shoulder. I was there for twenty one, from the laying of the dragon’s eggs to their exile from the nest. I learned quite a bit. After they left, the dragon put me in a cage as I attempted to leave, and divulged her intention to add me to her collection of knights. With the permission of my master, I broke out of the cage, and took the eye of the dragon.”

The entire group’s eyes widened. “You attacked a dragon and lived?” Fluttershy asked.

“Yes. Take this as a warning: Do not renege on or misuse my services. Bad things happen to those that do.”

Twilight nodded and gulped. “Well, we may as well get you to Ponyville as soon as possible.” Marwolaeth gave a miniscule shudder at the name of his new home. “Mayor Mare will want to introduce you to the town so that they don’t panic at the sight of you, and we’ll set up a housing plan.”

Marwolaeth grunted an affirmative. “Lead the way.”

As the group began walking away from the dark forest and towards a colourful town, Twilight sidled up to Marwolaeth.

“So, uh, Marwolaeth y-”

“Call me Pydredd.”

“Um, right. So Pydredd, you live in the Everfree Forest?”

“No.”

“So… There’s no hidden civilization of yours in the forest?”

“No.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“You might find the planar tearing I used to get here, but it’s hardly hidden.”

Twilight gasped. “You come from a different dimension?”

“Plane. There is a difference.”

“Still, it’s a whole new world!” The entire party was looking at Marwolaeth with newfound interest, listening intently as Twilight began her questioning. “Can you tell me about it?”

“No.”

“What?! Why not?”

“You’re not ready.”

“Psh, of course I’m ready! I’m the Element of Magic, Princess of Equestria and student to Princess Celestia herself! What makes you think I’m not ready to study a new civilization?” The group of colourful ponies snickered, as Marwolaeth had awakened the beast inside Twilight, whose hunger could only be filled by knowledge.

“Are you versed in language?”

“I know three different Equestrian dialects.”

“Have you studied the make and laws of languages? Have you invented your own language? Do you know anything other than Equestrian?”

“Well no. But what about, you, you’re speaking perfect Equestrian!”

“My master allows me to understand any spoken language. If you do not know how to learn and recognize a language, how do you plan on learning it with no translator?”

“I’ll… Figure something out.”

“Of course. How about transformation spells? Can you look like anything other than a Pony?”

“No transformation of flesh is black magic. Why?”

“You are a prey animal in many lands. You would be hunted and eaten immediately. Ah, and of course, the most important question: Can you travel between planes?”

“No, Princess Celestia hasn’t taught me how to do that, yet.”

“And why do you think that is?”

“Because… Because I’m not ready.” Twilight hung her head.

Marwolaeth patted her back. “The first step to fixing a problem is admitting that you have one.”

The ponies gawked at Marwolaeth. Not only had he talked Twilight down from researching him and his home, he’d delivered what could easily have been a lesson in friendship to her on a silver platter.

“Smart monster…” Rainbow Dash muttered.

“But… But that didn’t really answer my question.” Twilight realized, looking at Marwolaeth.

“What would you do if I told you about my lands?”

“Write it down.”

“And then?”

“…Ask some more questions?”

“And when I don’t know the answer to your questions?”

“Uh…”

“Knowing your type, you’d try to pry the information from my mind, or go looking for my lands despite your lack of training and knowledge.”

“I… I wouldn’t try and tear it from your mind!”

“Uh, Twilight…” Applejack butted in. “…Want it, need it.”

“That- That wasn’t the same thing.”

“If I do start explaining my plane to you, and cease answering questions,” Marwolaeth continued, oblivious to Applejack’s reference. “You’d be left with a project partially done, and Master knows I hate leaving things unfinished. So no, Twilight, I will not tell you about my lands.”

“I… I guess I understand.”

“Good.”

“Girls! And guy!” Pinkamena jumped between Marwolaeth and Twilight. “We’re here!”

Marwolaeth turned his gaze from Twilight to the small village before him. Everything was too small. He stood as a giant among Ponies, reaching nearly a full story with his height. Every building was a quaint thatched roof cottage or other early civilization building material. In front of the entrance to town was a tan Pony with grey hair and spectacles, which greeted Twilight and held a whispered conversation with her. The new Pony then turned to Marwolaeth and smiled.

“Welcome to Ponyville, Marwolaeth, I-”

Marwolaeth held up one of his hands. “Call me Pydredd.”

“Uh, very well then, Pydredd. Welcome to Ponyville, I am Mayor Mare. You’ll be staying for some time, I take it?”

“As long as Celestia deems necessary.”

Twilight nudged Marwolaeth’s shin and hissed at him out of the side of her mouth. “Princess Celestia.”

Marwolaeth looked down at Twilight and answered her quietly. “She’s not my princess.” He turned back to Mayor Mare, who could have easily heard the short dialogue. “I will be staying with one of these six.” He gestured to the group of ponies behind him. “Though I doubt it will be in town. Your buildings are much too small for me.”

Mayor Mare nodded. “Of course, I had been wondering about that. I’d say that rules out everypony but Applejack.” She turned to the mare in question. “Your barn should be big enough to house Pydredd, right?”

Applejack nodded. Only then did Marwolaeth see that she had done her hair up into ponytails. He groaned softly one more time. “Sure thing. He can sleep in th’ barn.”

Mayor Mare smiled warmly. “Wonderful. I’d love to stay and chat, Mister Pydredd, but I have a town to keep running. Ta ta!”

Marwolaeth nodded to her as she trotted away. Applejack turned to him and frowned. “Well, if Ah’da known that we were gonna use the barn, Ah’da rustled up a bed! ‘Course, Ah don’t think we got any beds that’ll fit ya. Ya okay with sleepin’ in the hay?”

“I’ve slept in worse places. Thank you for your hospitality, Jack.”

“Aw, it’s just Applejack, Sugarcube.”

“Very well, though I am not called Sugarcube.”

Pinkie Pie bounded up to Marwolaeth. “Well duh, that’s just what Applejack calls everypony, silly! Though if you were a sugar cube you would last soooo long! It would take forever to lick through you!”

“Yes, thank you for that… interesting imagery. Applejack, if you would, I’d like to survey my newest lodging.”

“Before you go Pydredd,” Twilight interjected. “You mentioned that a dragon was just one of your clients, and you know enough about planar travel to dissuade ponies. Just how long have you been in service to your master?”

Marwolaeth smirked at Twilight, though she couldn’t see it from behind his helmet. “Now that’s a good question, isn’t it? If you find out, let me know, I’ve quite forgotten.”

Twilight stood dumbstruck. She shook it off momentarily and called at Marwolaeth’s back as he and Applejack left for Sweet Apple Acres. “Where would I find out?”

“Ask Celestia!” Marwolaeth yelled over his shoulder. “New clients get a list of my past jobs!”

Marwolaeth chuckled as Sweet Apple Acres came into view. “That ought to keep her busy.”

Applejack looked out of the side of her eyes at Marwolaeth. “Y’all didn’t just say that t’ be rid of ‘er, did ya?”

Marwolaeth shook his head and sighed. “You heard Sparkle earlier, Jack. I cannot tell a lie. I’m not quite as curious as to how long I’ve been serving as I may have seemed, though.”

“Why not? Don’t ya want t’ remember all the good times ya had?”

“Best to not dwell on the past, but to look forward to the future. The only thing that matters to me now is the completion of my jobs, and the fulfilment of my contract.”

“Well that hardly seems like any way to live.”

“When it’s all you’ve done for the majority of your life, you forget how to do anything else.”

“Shoot, looks like this’ll be perfect for ya, then! Who knows if anythin’ll crop up, an’ in th’ mean time, we can teach ya ta help with things around town!”

“I can’t fit into any of the buildings in town.”

“Ah… Uh, shoot, Ah forgot that bit. Ah well, Ah can at least teach ya how to buck apples!”

“Fair enough.”

Marwolaeth then stopped in his tracks, one hand going to the sword sheathed at his side.

“Huh? Wassa matter?”

“Something’s approaching town. Big, tan and red, feline in form, long tail, wings. Ring a bell?”

“That sounds like a manticore! What’s one o’ them varmints doin’ near town?”

“Dangerous?”

“Well, yeah! It’s a predator from the Everfree!” Marwolaeth took off sprinting towards town. “Wait! It’s got a poisonous stinger! Marwolaeth, you get your fanny back here!” Applejack shouted at his swiftly retreating form.

Applejack could hear Marwolaeth’s reply carried back to her on the wind.

“Pydredd, not Marwolaeth!”

Chapter 2: Prison Etiquette

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Marwolaeth grinned beneath his helmet. A monster had attacked the nearby town not half a day after his arrival? And he had been told that this was a peaceful place.

This manticore that had been unfortunate enough to appear while within eyeshot of the town was large, at least as large as the average bear. It was a deep golden-tan with a long, limp red tail that ended in a scorpion stinger, and small bat-like wings. Long, wickedly sharp claws dug into the earth as it sloppily pivoted towards the approaching sound of shifting metal. Foam dripped from its fangs as it regarded this shiny new toy with an empty look in its eyes.

The manticore leaped to embrace its new toy as he pulled a long spear from his back. Marwolaeth ducked under the airborne monster as he gave his spear an expert flick and twirl. There was a small spray of red as the manticore roared in pain and Marwolaeth cursed under his breath.

“I’m getting rusty with this spear.” He muttered to himself as he spun to face the manticore as it landed. Its hind legs were bleeding from shallow cuts along their backs, the result of a shoddily executed and subsequently failed attack on its hamstrings.

The manticore roared in fury. Marwolaeth could read its thought process in its movements and eyes. How dare my new toy have the gall to turn on me, it said.

Marwolaeth spun his spear around his body, reacquainting himself with its weight. The flashes of light as the spear caught the sun’s rays mesmerized the manticore, who began circling this traitorous toy, scorpion tail held low and relaxed.

Marwolaeth seemed to make a decision and hefted his spear before rearing it back and throwing it at the manticore. The animal watched dumbly as the shaft of sparkling metal arced through the air until it pierced the stinger of its tail, pinning it to the ground.

Marwolaeth cursed once more, his throw having been off by a scant foot. “At least I still hit it.” He said to himself. He pulled out one of his longer swords and unsheathed an ornate dagger. He paused as the manticore roared again, this time in rage as it turned on its tail and began tearing at it with its teeth.

Finally, the poison sack burst under the manticore’s teeth, leaking a viscous green liquid over its lower jaw. One final twist of its head tore the stinger from its tail, leaving the manticore with a truncated stub. The manticore once more turned to Marwolaeth and began stalking forward, only to twitch and fall onto the ground.

The manticore arose and staggered to the side before fixing its gaze on Marwolaeth. It took a shaky step forward before collapsing. Its gaze never left the man’s eyes.

Save me toy, the gaze spoke, as the manticore began to spasm.

Marwolaeth began slowly walking towards the manticore as it convulsed, sword at his side and dagger back in its sheath.

The sound of hooves approached the scene as Marwolaeth rested the tip of his sword at the manticore’s throat.

“Stop right there!” Somepony shouted. Marwolaeth turned his head to look at the trio of white ponies in golden armour, and two of his charges, Applejack and Fluttershy.

The manticore whimpered as its convulsions weakened to mad twitching. Marwolaeth’s sword rose a scant few inches into the air.

“Marwolaeth…” Fluttershy began. “Don’t…”

The sword flashed downwards, neatly slicing the manticore’s throat.

A spray of blood pattered against Marwolaeth’s boots.

The armoured Ponies glanced at the quickly dying manticore, and then slowly shifted their gaze back to Marwolaeth, eyes hard and cold.

Fluttershy’s eyes were on the manticore as its eyes drained of intelligence.

Applejack could not tear her eyes from the sight of the manticore’s final heartbeats soaking the dirt beneath Marwolaeth with its lifeblood.

“Order me as Pydredd.” Marwolaeth said softly before cleaning the tip of his sword on the manticore’s hide.

“Marwolaeth…” Applejack breathed softly.

“Pydredd, you are under arrest.” One of the white ponies stated.

“Am I? Under what charges?”

“Pydredd… That was a female manticore.” Fluttershy said as she began to tear up. “It- It’s illegal to kill the females.”

“Hm. A shame.”

“Marwolaeth Pydredd.” The white pony stepped forward authoritatively. “You are under arrest for poaching, under the Everfree Conservation Act of 647. Your belongings will be confiscated and you shall be detained in the Canterlot dungeons until trial. As a foreigner, you are entitled to an ambassador of your kind as defense. Your belongings will be returned to you upon release from prison. You have the right to trial and appeal, and the right to remain silent, as anything you say can and will be used against you. Do you wish to declare anything before we begin the search?”

Marwolaeth began to unstrap weapons as he listed them off to what he understood to be a guard pony. As he finished, he looked slightly smaller than before.

“Sir, we are going to search you for hidden weapons, now.”

One of the other guard Ponies stepped forward, this one with a horn. It surrounded itself with a soft blue glow, as the same colour aura developed around Marwolaeth.

“He’s clean.”

“Any requests before incarceration?”

“The armour stays on. If you have prison garb, find a set big enough to fit over the armour.”

The lead guard pony squinted at Marwolaeth. “Very well. Follow us.”

The three guard ponies surrounded Marwolaeth before leading him to the train station. Townsponies gawked at the tall figure as he strode through town. Marwolaeth’s charges slowly joined his entourage, asking for the situation and being told by the guards that Marwolaeth was under arrest. When neither the guards nor Marwolaeth elaborated, Applejack and Fluttershy told their friends the story.

Twilight decided that she could use her leverage as a princess to sway Marwolaeth’s trial in his favour, and so accompanied the guards onto the train. Of course, where she went, her friends went.

The train car was very crowded.

The train ride was awkwardly silent.

When the train pulled into Canterlot station, the lead guard pulled a set of hoofcuffs from a bag.

“Sir, while you have been cooperative so far, protocol demands that you wear these hoofcuffs whilst in the capital.”

The hoofcuffs were a set of four iron hoops connected by chains, clearly meant to hinder quadrapedal movement. However, the hoofs clamped onto Marwolaeth’s wrists were much too big, and slid off easily. They were, instead, clamped to his biceps. This, in turn, meant that the other two hoofcuffs could not reach his ankles, and so were attached to his thighs, which were too big for the cuffs to fully close.

All in all, the hoofcuffs were more of a minor annoyance than a hindrance.

As Marwolaeth and his entourage disembarked and began the trek to Canterlot Castle, the hubbub of a thriving capital subsided as whispers replaced conversations. Some of these whispers were quite loud enough for Marwolaeth to hear.

“Goodness, what is that creature?”

“So intimidating.”

“Such an interesting way to wear hoofcuffs.”

“Look at that armour. No style at all.”

Marwolaeth smirked. Hardly the most vitriolic race, these ponies.

As the group reached Canterlot Castle, the common ponies split from the guard ponies. Marwolaeth was led downwards, the building material giving way from marble to cobblestone and, eventually, smoothly carved cave walls. He was led to what could only loosely be described as a jail cell.

“…What is this?” Marwolaeth asked the lead guard.

“A jail cell. Obviously.”

“…No.”

“Excuse me?”

“Wait here one moment.”

Marwolaeth stalked into the lavish room in front of him. The walls of the cell were covered in lavender wallpaper with flowing designs on it. The bed was a fluffy mattress with pink sheets. The ground was layered with shag carpets and the wall had a small fountain that spilled into a divot that ran across the room and under a plush seat over a hole in the ground that the water fell into. Light seemed to emanate from a bulbous plant hung from the roof that gave the room an interesting floral smell. The only indication that this room was, in fact, a jail cell was the barred door set into one wall. He stuck his head out of the doorway.

“How much property destruction is required before I am convicted of willful destruction of property?”

“More than can be done from a jail cell.”

“Wonderful.”

Marwolaeth cracked his knuckles before going to work.

The mattress went out the door, thumping into one of the guards who sputtered indignantly, leaving only a wooden frame. The plush seat had a leg removed before being tossed to join its cousin, the mattress, outside. The leg was jammed into the fountain, stoppering the flow of water to a trickle, but not before using the jagged edge to jab a hole in the ceiling plant. Marwolaeth then took the hanging pot and gave it a spin, sending the luminescent sap splattering about the room. When the plant was drained, Marwolaeth removed it from the pot and dropped it down the toilet hole.

Finally, Marwolaeth ripped the wallpaper and carpet from their anchors and tossed them out the door, leaving him in a dark, stone cell with softly glowing walls, a hard wooden cot, and the incessant noise of dripping water as the scent of decaying plant began to seep from the toilet.

Marwolaeth beckoned the guards to enter. “This, gentlemen, is a jail cell.”

The guards gawked at the destruction wrought upon their pristine décor. “This- These are simply barbaric conditions to live in!” One of them yelped.

“Exactly. Would deter a lot of crime, knowing that this is what awaited them. You know; if I was feeling especially gloomy, I’d start punching the walls and floor, make them look roughly hewn. If I got lucky, they’d be a menace to touch.”

The lead guard chuckled nervously. “I don’t know what good it would do. These walls are enchanted to resist force and spells alike.”

Marwolaeth raised an eyebrow beneath his helmet. “Is that a challenge?”

The stallion began to sweat. “Uh, no. No. I’d rather not take my chances, after watching you toss that mattress.”

“Smart man.”

“Um, dinner will arrive shortly. What do you eat?”

“Meat.”

The stallion gulped. “Uh, I think we might be able to requisition some of the supplies reserved for the griffon ambassadors.”

“Don’t bother. Bring me mouldy bread and dirty water.”

“Are- Are you serious?”

“If I am to be imprisoned, I demand to be treated as a prisoner should be treated. Half a loaf of mouldy bread and a small cup of dirty water.”

“I- I’m not sure that I can condone that kind of diet.”

“Bring me nothing then.”

“I’ll bring down some-” The armoured pony gagged. “Griffin cuisine for you shortly.”

“Don’t bother.”

“…Right.”

All three guards, heavily shaken by their experience, left the jail cell and shut the door, locking it behind them, before trotting towards the exit.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” Marwolaeth called to the retreating guards.

“Back to our barracks?” One responded.

“Leaving the prisoner unguarded? What kind of farce is this?” Marwolaeth yelled.

The white ponies dropped any pretense of control and hastened to the exit, Marwolaeth insulting their regiment and instructors as they ran.

An hour later, a guard approached the dungeons with a covered platter. Marwolaeth could not tell due to his similarity to every other guard he had seen, but he suspected that this one was the same stallion that had arrested him.

The stallion entered a theatre of carnage. Or, at least, carnage in his eyes. Almost every cell’s door had been opened, and had been evicted of its furniture, which was piled neatly next to the open door. Marwolaeth had been gingerly setting the bed of one cell into the floor as the stallion had entered.

“What… What happened here?”

The guard looked to the cell that Marwolaeth had been interred in. The door was warped outwards, its deadbolt snapped.

“A lesson in prison etiquette.” Marwolaeth responded, sounding winded.

“I- We- Why?”

“This?” Marwolaeth gestured to the broken cell door. “This is what happens when you leave prisoners with no guards. Especially when you don’t know what they are capable of. This.” He gestured to the piles of neatly stacked amenities. “This is a basic remodel. I figured that the bureaucracy to remodel your prison cells would make this take far too long, so I decided to lend a helping hand.” He walked back to his cell. “You’re welcome.”

“I- I-”

Marwolaeth gripped the bent door bars and gave a mighty tug. The cell door realigned itself, knocking the broken halves of the deadbolt clanging to the floor.

“I brought you some food.” The guard began hyperventilating.

“I saw that. What’s the gruel for today?”

“A- A grilled steak.” The guard’s lips began twitching, as he seemed to hold in a retch. “With baked potatoes and- And a spinach salad with garlic croutons. And warm milk. And a small flan for dessert.”

“What, no mouldy bread? Bah, haven’t you all been listening to a word I’ve said? I’ll do without.” Marwolaeth turned his back to the guard before sliding down the wall with the screech of metal on stone.

The guard’s left eye twitched halfway shut with a nigh audible shattering sound.

“You know what? You know what?! NO!”

The guard threw the cell door open and stomped inside. Even though he couldn’t see Marwolaeth’s eyes, he could almost feel his apathetic stare.

“You’re a prisoner! You don’t get to make demands! You’re going to eat this lovingly crafted meal, and you’re going to like it!” The guard slammed the platter to the ground between Marwolaeth’s legs and glared at him, daring him to object.

Marwolaeth stared at the guard with half-lidded eyes as the stallion stood with his nose to the faceplate, breathing heavily.

Marwolaeth chuckled. “Yes, sir.” He said, in a tone that was mocking the perceived seriousness of the situation.

“Good. Good.” The guard backed up a step and took a deep breath. “I’ll… I’ll be right outside. Fixing the rooms, or something. Yell if you need- Ah, Tartarus I won’t care if you yell something. I’m gonna play some card games.”

The cell door slammed shut behind the guard. When Marwolaeth was sure that he would not be watched, he removed his helmet and began eating.

He had to admit that this was one of the finer meals that he had eaten.

Marwolaeth strapped his helmet back on and went to the cell door. He raised a hand to knock on the bars, but recalled that the door was unlocked and would swing open if pushed, so instead he knocked on the doorframe.

Contrary to his outburst, the harried guard poked his head out from the room he had been fixing. “What?! What could you possibly want now?!” He yelled as his voice cracked.

“I’d just like to compliment the chef. It was an excellently cooked meal, and definitely the best prison fare that I’ve had the pleasure to experience.”

“I- You mean it?”

Marwolaeth chuckled. “Those of my position cannot tell a lie. Ask Twilight Sparkle if you don’t believe me.”

“Wow. Thank you, I’ll give your compliments to the chef.”

“Please do.”

Marwolaeth and the guard pricked their ears as a set of hoofsteps approached the dungeons. The guard snapped to attention as a grey Pony with a silver mane bedecked with a set of functional looking plate barding entered the room.

“I heard a commotion.” He said in a soft, worn voice that carried authority. “What’s happened in here?”

“Captain Shield Line, sir! The… The prisoner was giving me pointers on proper prison etiquette, sir!” The guard answered in the terse, near yell of a subordinate answering his commanding officer.

“Prison etiquette, eh? And the emptied cells?”

“Again, sir, the prisoner demonstrated his people’s system of cell decoration, sir.”

“I see. I expect a full report on the insights of imprisonment that he has explained by the end of the day, Mess Hall. Dismissed.”

Shield Line turned to leave, but Mess Hall hesitated. The captain raised an eyebrow at the guard.

“Sir, with all due respect, one of the things that I was taught that is immediately relevant is that the prisoner is not to be left unguarded, sir.”

“Very well. I shall watch him. Return to your duties in Ponyville.”

“Sir, yes sir!” Mess Hall saluted before marching away from the dungeons.

Shield Line turned when he heard the clack of metal being set on the floor. Marwolaeth slid the platter that had contained his food under the cell door. The man was sitting leaned against the wall next to the broken door, watching the guard captain.

“So, I’m to understand that you were unsatisfied with Equestria’s prison?” Shield Line asked, approaching Marwolaeth.

“That I was.”

“Might I ask why?”

“It was much too comfortable. Prison is meant to deter its inhabitants from returning to crime when they are released. When they have a comfortable bed, calming surroundings and good food at their beck and call, prison begins to seem like a reward, rather than a punishment.”

“I see. I’m to understand, then, that Mess Hall will be giving me a list of changes to make to the prison cells at the end of the day?”

“Perhaps, if he listened to all that I had to say.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you can give me a summary.”

Marwolaeth began to tick off his fingers as he listed changes to Equestria’s prisons. “Small, dark, damp, smelly, uncomfortable cells, constant guards, and awful food.”

Shield Line nodded. “Very well. I will take your… counsel under consideration.”

“Do as you please. I doubt that you’ll implement them.”

Shield Line cocked his eyebrow again. “Oh? And how do you know that?”

“You are a guard captain, trained in the classic manner of your predecessors, being advised by lowly criminal scum. My words and actions won’t change decades of consistency.”

“Heh. Smart monkey. At least take solace in the fact that your advice will be upheld for your stay in the Canterlot dungeons.”

A few minutes passed before Marwolaeth looked up. “Captain Line, I would demand that one piece of my advice be followed.”

“Oh?”

Marwolaeth nudged his cell door and it creaked open. “You should get this door outfitted with a new lock.”

“Mm. Noted.”

Silence passed for a few moments.

“Aren’t you going to move me to a cell that actually has a lock?”

“No need. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“Perhaps not, but it is terribly unsafe.”

Another few minutes were spent in silence before Shield Line took a breath.

“Tell me your name, prisoner.”

“I’d have thought that Twilight Sparkle or Celestia would have told it to you by now.”

“And they have. But I want to hear you say it for yourself.”

“Hm. My name is Marwolaeth Pydredd.”

“Mean anything in particular?”

“Yes.”

“…Care to share?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It translates into a language you wouldn’t understand from a land far away from this one.”

“I see. The reason I ask is, for a creature of intelligence, you seem intent on causing as much ruckus as you can.”

Marwolaeth shrugged. “If it gets results, I will do it.”

“What, may I ask, would result from a reform of the dungeons?”

“Less crime.”

“As far as I can tell, you will not be here for long. Why do you care?”

“My assignment is to keep my charges safe at all times. Since I cannot physically protect them at this time, I am simply attempting to make their lives that small bit safer by reducing the appeal of crime.”

“Oddly focused on that job of yours.”

“It is literally my only reason for being here.”

“Hmph.”

“And you?”

“Excuse me?”

“I gave you my name. Terribly impolite not to tell me yours.”

“I would have thought that you could overhear Mess Hall saying it.”

“And I did. But I’d rather hear it from your own tongue.”

“Hmph. Shield Line.”

“Well, no point in asking what that is. Any particular reason for taking that name?”

“It is a simple, yet surprisingly difficult style of troop command. I specialize in the organization, deployment and command of soldiers and squads.”

“Hm. A respectable talent.”

“Not in today’s day and age.”

“No?”

“No. The last great war was hundreds of years ago, and the biggest conflict of recent times was an invasion that lasted less than an hour.”

“Yes, I had been told that this was a peaceful place.”

“Mmh. We still have our problems. Slight crime, monster incursions, tense political situations. Nothing that requires a stallion of my talents.”

“Makes me wonder why I was requested here.”

“I wonder the same. Perhaps Princess Celestia has grown paranoid for her young apprentice.”

“Perhaps. …When am I to be tried?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. It is nearly nightfall now.”

“We have time, then. Perhaps you could tell me about this short invasion?”

“Hm, I could give you a summary. I wasn’t the guard captain at the time, a stallion named Shining Armor was. Good stallion, always had a head for defensive strategies, and he could cast the best shields I’d ever seen. Problem was, he got cocky, figured nopony could breach Canterlot in a war of attrition, so he didn’t have any offensive or aggressive plans.”

“In a time of peace, not a problem.”

“No, but the problem came when an anonymous tip that an army was approaching Canterlot. Shining Armor managed to keep a shield spell surrounding the entirety of the city.”

Marwolaeth gave an impressed whistle.

“Indeed. Unfortunately, this threat came to us while Shining Armor was preparing to marry Princess Mi Amore Cadenza, who he had met as a teenager as she foalsat his sister, a young Twilight Sparkle before she became the figure she is today.”

“Do I smell nepotism in this Shining Armor’s promotions?”

“No. His rise through the ranks of the guard came before he officially began courting Princess Cadance. That shield spell alone was enough to get him to a commanding position. Unbeknownst to Shining Armor and the rest of the royal family, Princess Cadance had, at some point, been replaced by a changeling queen known as Chrysalis. Now the changelings, as you probably are unaware, are a race of shape changing Ponies that feed on emotions, primarily love and lust. Queen Chrysalis had assumed that she could conquer Equestria and keep its citizens captured in cocoons that would siphon their emotions. However, she became cocky when her plan neared fruition, revealing herself and becoming sloppy in how she dealt with her most dangerous enemies.

“Eventually, Shining Armor’s shield shattered due to his weakness after days of being drained of emotion. changelings stormed the streets of Canterlot. The guards had been posted in odd places, at Queen Chrysalis’s suggestion, and the changelings knew where they were. If not for the return of the real Princess Cadance and her love for her fiancé, Canterlot would have fallen that day.”

“Wait. Cadenza saved the day with love?”

“Oh yes. You know what they say: Too much of a good thing becomes a bad thing. Such was the case with the changelings. When Princess Cadance returned and reminded Shining Armor of his love for her, she supercharged his shield spell with her emotion magic. The shield expanded across Canterlot, pushing the changelings out, back to their homeland. Every changeling returned home battered, bruised, humiliated, and full of love.”

“I see. Have steps been taken to prevent another changeling incursion?”

“Yes. Princess Celestia has opened peace talks with Queen Chrysalis, and has given all of the Unicorn guardsponies a changeling detecting spell.”

“Hmph. A peaceful land where the problems are solved via the magic of love.”

“Heh. When you phrase it like that, it almost sounds childish.”

“Mm.”

Minutes passed as Marwolaeth mulled over this story, before his mind hitched on a small detail.

“Shield Line.”

“Mm?”

“If this Shining Armor was such a good captain, where is he now?”

“Ah, that’s another story. He married Princess Cadance, the real one. Soon after, an old city was rediscovered after having been lost in the frozen wastes of the North. Princess Cadance is the daughter of that city’s last princess, you see, and so was the rightful ruler of the land. The problem with allowing her to rule was that, even for an alicorn, she was very young at the time that the city disappeared a thousand years ago.

“Celestia took Cadance in and taught her the duties of a princess as she grew older, and sent her to reclaim her throne when the Crystal City reappeared. However, the corrupt spirit of the emperor that dethroned Cadance’s mother returned along with the city. The Elements of Harmony, that group of Ponies that you are supposed to be protecting, helped repel Emperor Sombra, and Spike struck the final blow of his defeat. After some celebration and ceremony, Princess Cadance was crowned the Crystal Empire’s new princess, and Shining Armor retired to live as Princess Cadance’s husband. I, as Shining Armor’s lieutenant, was promoted to guard captain.”

“Huh. And this Crystal Empire…”

“Consists of one city surrounded by blizzards and mountains. It used to be the seat of power for an ancient civilization that crumbled when the capital disappeared.”

“Shouldn’t it be called the Crystal City, then?”

“Eh, Crystal Empire rolls off of the tongue easier.”

“I see.”

The pair lapsed into silence once more until Marwolaeth sighed and cracked his knuckles.

“Only seems fair to me that I start telling you my stories.”

“I have a feeling that your stories contain much more bloodshed than mine.”

“You’d be right, there.”

“You know, not many Ponies have the stomach for blood and fighting.”

“Are you one of those that do?”

“I just might be.”

“Are you going to get tired soon?”

“Hardly. I manage the day and night guard rotations.”

“Excellent.” Marwolaeth chuckled. “I’ve got energy to spare myself. How about I make you a deal?”

“Depends on what you want.”

“I’ll tell you my stories if you keep telling me of Equestria’s battles.”

“Sounds fair to me.”

Shield Line and Marwolaeth spent the night regaling each other with past exploits, from Marwolaeth’s battles against monsters to Equestria’s oldest conflicts with the griffins.

While Shield Line had been retelling the tale of Nightmare Moon to Marwolaeth, the man had begun thinking. When the recounting finished, Marwolaeth asked his question.

“How many princesses does Equestria have, exactly?”

Shield Line rubbed his chin, light bags beginning to develop under his eyes. “Hmm, that’s a good question. You’d get different answers depending on who you ask.”

“Do tell.”

“Cults and fanatics will tell you one: Either Princess Celestia, or Nightmare Moon. The nobles will give a varying answer as they believe themselves to be direct descendants of the royal Alicorn family, and thus view all of their mares as princesses. The farmers will tell you two: Princesses Celestia and Luna. The common folk will tell you four: Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadance, and Twilight. If the common folk are feeling especially cheeky, they may say five, adding Discord to the roster, or more accurately, his female persona, Eris.”

“Suppose there’s a few secret Alicorns hiding in the shadows?”

“It’s a possibility.”

Eventually, near dawn, a new guard came to find Shield Line, as he had work to do. This new guard was saddled with the responsibility of watching Marwolaeth, who fell asleep soon after Shield Line’s departure.

Eventually, a contingent of guards roused Marwolaeth from his slumber and led him to the antechamber of Canterlot Castle where he was to await his trial. When he was not admitted immediately, Marwolaeth began to talk to the leader of this set of guards.

“So what can I expect of this trial?”

The white stallion eyed Marwolaeth carefully. “Evidence will be examined, eyewitnesses will be questioned, and a verdict will be passed on whether you will be pardoned, or kept for further punishment.”

“I see. And what would warrant a pardon?”

“If the eyewitnesses and evidence agree that you did not kill a protected creature, or if you did, that the kill was out of necessity or pity, then you will be handed a minor stipulation of some sort and sent on your way. If you are found guilty of needlessly harming and killing a protected animal, you will be given a short time in jail, and a guard to monitor you when you are released to prevent further infractions.”

“Hmm. Might plead guilty then, if only to gather myself the company of another guard.”

The guard looked askance at Marwolaeth. “Why on Equestria would you want that?”

“Better to have a local guard mandated to my side to help me protect my charges. I guard versed in the law and lore of the land would be of great use to me.”

“So hire a guard, then. We have loanable troops, no need to be convicted of a crime to get one of us.”

“I’m a loaned soldier myself. It would be terribly bad form if I were to hire my own help. Besides, I have none of your money, and no intention to work myself overly hard to get any.”

“Well, I’ll relay your wish for a guard companion to the judge. Maybe she’ll order a guard to assist you as your inconvenient stipulation should you be proved innocent.”

“Pydredd!” A voice shouted from down the hall.

Marwolaeth turned to see six of his seven charges trotting down the hall.

Twilight Sparkle smiled at him sadly. “I’ve made some beneficial arrangements for this trial. As you are the sole member of your species here, I have elected to take the position of your defense instead, as I can come the closest to approximating your reactions. Further, I have raised your case directly to Princess Celestia’s court.

Marwolaeth felt a grin creep across his face. An awful, mischievous grin that would have made Discord proud. “Actually Sparkle.” He said, carefully hiding the mirth from his voice. “If we are to find my defense based on who can judge my reactions the best, I would consult with Captain Shield Line.”

Twilight Sparkle’s jaw dropped. “Wh- What?”

“Shield Line and I had quite the long night swapping stories. If there is anypony that would know my thoughts behind my actions, it would be him.” Marwolaeth turned to the lead guardspony. “If you would kindly find Captain Shield Line and ask if he has the time to act as my defense, we would be most appreciative.”

The guard nodded and ordered a less important pony to fetch Shield Line.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence on the part of the Elements of Harmony, and internal scheming on the part of Marwolaeth, the doors to the throne room slowly creaked open, and Shield Line stepped through the door.

“Princess Celestia will see you now, Marwolaeth Pydredd.”

Marwolaeth felt his smirk return. “Delightful.”

Chapter 3: Trial and Error

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Marwolaeth’s day was proving to be one of the most entertaining days he’d had in a very long time, and evidence seemed to point to it only getting better. His first clue was plastered on Twilight Sparkle’s face as she escorted him towards a raised dais: An indignant scowl. His second clue was the legion of ponies decked in fineries, obviously some form of high class, perhaps even nobility.

The third clue came in the form of a regal alicorn sitting on the dais wearing royal barding. Clearly this was Marwolaeth’s contact, Princess Celestia.

A nearby pony in a vest tooted a long bugle, and addressed the crowd of nobles.

“Approaching is the accused, Unknown of unknown origin, and his counsel, Sir Shield Line, captain of the guard, of Whinniesippie and his entourage, the Princess Twilight Sparkle and the esteemed Elements of Harmony of Ponyville.”

Celestia levitated a scroll from a stack next to her throne. “Approach.”

Marwolaeth and Shield Line stepped forward, their armour clashing against the polished marble floor. The vested pony stepped forward with a piece of paper and ink quill in his magical aura.

“For the records, sir. Name, species and occupation?”

“Marwolaeth Pydredd, Gwas Cytundeb, Amddiffynnydd.”

The pony scribbled something onto the paper before giving Marwolaeth a flat stare. “In Equuish, please. Princess Twilight Sparkle has informed us of your ability to understand and speak languages.”

“Marwolaeth Pydredd, Pact Servant, Protector. Would you like me to translate my name for you as well?”

“No need. If that is your name, it is what you shall be addressed by.”

“Address me as Pydredd, then.”

The pony quirked an eyebrow. “Very well, then.” He turned to Celestia. “The trial stands, your highness.”

Celestia nodded. “Very well, then. Mister Pydredd-”

“Just Pydredd, please.” Marwolaeth interrupted.

Celestia slowly raised her one visible eyebrow as the nobles held hushed conversations.

“Pydredd. Do you know why you are here?”

“I am in Equestria because my service has been lent to you, Celestia, to do with as you see fit, within reason. I am in this court because I slew a beast, a female manticore, if I recall.”

“Correct on both matters. As you have only recently arrived and are unique as a species here, you have been granted a counsellor to advise you on your options. It has come to my attention, however, that he was only fetched at the last moment. Counsellor, if you would recite the proper section of the Everfree Conservation Act of 647?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Shield Line saluted. “Section three, paragraph nine, subsection two. ‘The manticore species is to be placed under gender protection. As the severely underpopulated gender, females are to be left unharmed and alive, sedated if required for relocation. Males are to be deterred with violence or noise. The distinction to be made is that male manticores grow a long, red mane while females do not.’ Section one, paragraph five, subsection one. ‘The circumstance under which this act may be called into effect is the murder of a protected creature, whether unprovoked or unnecessary. If a creature is considered crippled and hostile, it is to be put down in a mercy killing.’”

“Very good, captain. Pydredd, after hearing the terms of your transgression, how do you plead?”

Shield Line leaned towards Marwolaeth. “Plead innocent. From what I’ve heard, it was dying anyway.”

“Guilty, Celestia.”

The nobles raised their voices, babbling to each other about the creature’s blatant disrespect for the law and their ruler.

“Order.” Celestia commanded. The nobles quickly fell silent. “Under what notions do you plead guilty, Pydredd?”

“The killing was unnecessary. Further, I had engaged it in combat without prior reason to believe it to be hostile based solely on the derogatory comments of my charge Applejack, and assumed it to be a danger to the ponies that you have contracted me to protect.”

“Indeed. Applejack, approach.”

Applejack stepped forward, trembling slightly.

“What had you told Pydredd of the manticores?”

“W-well, your Hahness, Pydredd gave me the description of a manticore, an’ Ah called ‘em varmints, an’ he ran off towards town ‘fore I could warn ‘im.”

“Very well. Return to your place, Applejack. Pydredd, explain how acting in this manner was in line with my command of protecting my ponies.”

“Well, Celestia, in my experience the term ‘varmint’ can mean anything from harmless pests to dangers to settlements, and as a rule, I assume the latter. Further, six of my seven charges had been in town, and the seventh was by my side. By eliminating the perceived threat, I was ensuring the safety of your ponies.”

“While I admire the sentiment, the execution could have been better. Finally, you claim that this kill was unnecessary.”

“That I do. From what I could tell, the manticore was rabid. Slavering at the jaws, perceived paralysis, pacing, and self-mutilation. This enforced my decision to keep it from harming ponies. The reason I believe that the kill was unnecessary, however, was that the observed self-mutilation was the manticore tearing open its own sack of poison and swallowing it. It began convulsing and dying soon afterwards, and would have been dead moments after, if I had not ended its life earlier.”

Shield Line nudged Marwolaeth’s knee and hissed at him. “Are you trying to be convicted?”

“Yes.” Marwolaeth murmured back.

“…Very well.” Shield Line turned to Celestia. “Pydredd has submitted his plea and evidence supporting it. Your verdict, Your Highness?”

Celestia seemed to be considering, and Marwolaeth heard a sharp intake of breath from behind him.

“I have reached a conclusion. Marwolaeth Pydredd, I hereby find you-”

“Wait!” Twilight Sparkle shouted. Marwolaeth chuckled. “I object to the defendant’s testimony!”

The nobles erupted into a cacophony of noise. An interruption of the venerable Princess Celestia as she handed down a verdict? And by her own student? Unthinkable!

“Order.” At Celestia’s word, the nobles fell silent. “Princess Twilight Sparkle, approach.”

Doing so, Twilight began to address Celestia. “I motion for a thorough examination of the evidence. By Pydredd’s testimony, the conditions of his act were sufficient to negate the Act’s parameters, rendering the trial moot and Pydredd innocent.”

“Motion granted. Please explain how Pydredd’s testimony proves that he is innocent.”

“Gladly. By his own admission, he did not know that the female manticore is a protected creature, and he perceived it as a danger to society. He was not informed of his crime until the deed had been done.” Twilight had a slightly smug smile on her face. “Further, we have received no eyewitness accounts of the slaying of the manticore. We do not have due process until we receive an eyewitness testimony.”

Marwolaeth leaned down to Shield Line. “I was, actually, told by the guards who accosted me that what I had planned was illegal. Applejack was there with the guards, as was Fluttershy.”

“Objection, Your Highness.” Shield Line stomped his hoof. “We have had an eyewitness testimony from Applejack, as she was present on the scene of the crime. In addition, Pydredd had been accosted and informed of the illegality of killing the manticore before he had done so.”

Celestia frowned. “Is that so? Applejack, approach. Did you witness the act take place?”

“Ah- Ah did, Yer Hahness. Th’ guards’d told ‘im ta stop b’fore he-” Applejack gulped and shivered. “Killed th’ manticore.”

Twilight nudged Applejack. “Applejack, what are you doing?” She whispered.

“Ah- she asked! What d’you expect me t’ do?” Applejack hissed to Twilight out of the side of her mouth.

“I... I don’t know! Support him?”

“Um… T’ be fair, Yer Hahness, th’ guards only told ‘im t’ stop b’fore he killed th’ manticore.”

“I see. Return to your place, Applejack. This new information has given me pause.” Celestia furrowed her brow and put her hoof up to her chin. Twilight had a nervous grin plastered to her face while Marwolaeth and Shield Line stood stoic. “I have reached a verdict. Twilight, while your motions have cast Pydredd into a more sympathetic light…”

Twilight’s grin grew into a smug smirk.

“I cannot say, without a doubt, that Pydredd is innocent in this matter.”

Twilight’s face fell and her mouth gaped open.

“I find Marwolaeth Pydredd guilty of unnecessarily killing a female manticore under the Everfree Conservation Act of 647. I sentence him to three days of jail time, and will assign a guard to escort him at the time of his release. In addition, as I am unsure of his guilt, I shall demand of Marwolaeth Pydredd that he cannot kill any creature of this plane while he is under my command to ensure that this does not happen again. Dismissed.”

Marwolaeth’s hands curled into fists. “Question.”

“Ask.”

“Under what conditions would I be allowed to kill an opponent?”

“None. If combat is initiated, you are to incapacitate your opponent. You shall not take the life of any creature here.”

Marwolaeth ground his teeth together. “Very well. As you command.”

“Dismissed.”

Shield Line turned and led Marwolaeth from the courtroom as the Elements of Harmony huddled together to hold a whispered discussion. Shield Line turned to speak to Marwolaeth as he escorted the man into the dungeons.

“So the runner you sent said that you would be plying for the company of a guard. Historically, being found guilty of poaching is not the first option many would go to.”

Marwolaeth shrugged. “Perhaps, but it was the first opportunity that arose. After all, I didn’t kill the manticore to be placed under guard; I had not known that it was illegal. But, as the saying goes: Instead of marking one path to take, ensure that all paths lead to victory. I merely made do with my situation.”

“Hm. I suppose that you’ll work being jailed into a victory as well?”

“Aye. I’ll see how many guards I can convince about the jail remodels. Perhaps one of my guards will be the one assigned to me as well. Better to know him sooner than later.”

The pair stepped into the dungeons, Marwolaeth walking to a new cell and Shield Line sitting at the table near the entrance. Marwolaeth, to his delight, found that this new cell was left in the condition that he had left it in: Spartan and dark.

Shield Line looked at Marwolaeth. “So what do you plan on doing with my guard?”

“Send him to places that I cannot go. I may send him to live with Sparkle or Pie, seeing as how I must live with Jack, as her barn is the only building large enough to let me enter.”

Shield Line nodded. “Fair enough. I know that you haven’t seen too many guards, but if you had to choose, which would you prefer to have assigned?”

“Ideally? You. Captain of the guard pulls a lot of weight, with experience and training to compliment his demeanor. Realistically? The leader of the group that brought me in. He took charge and commanded with authority, and he already is stationed near my place of residence as it is.”

“Fair enough. You’ll be here for a few days, as today will count as your first day of incarceration. I can muster the candidates for your guardianship and introduce them all to you tomorrow.”

“Sounds good. Perhaps I’ll find a good candidate among them.”

“Perhaps.”

Another guard stallion trotted into the dungeons and took Shield Line’s place at the table.

“I must return to my duties. This is Lock. He’ll be your guard for today. His brother, Key will be replacing him for the night shift.”

Marwolaeth chuckled. “You have me under Lock and Key, eh?”

Shield Line and Lock both rolled their eyes. “Yes, because I’ve never heard that one before.” Lock murmured.

“Blame your parents.” Marwolaeth chuckled.

“I do.” Lock grumbled before turning his back. Shield Line sighed and walked out of the dungeons.

After Marwolaeth lounged on his cot for a few minutes, he sat up and went to the cell door. “Hey, Lock.”

“Mm?”

“If you’re so sensitive about your name, why not change it?”

“Change it? It’s my cutie mark, there’s not a lot that I can do about my name.”

“Cutie mark?”

“Ugh, that’s right, you’re not from around here. A cutie mark is a representation of a pony’s special talent that magically appears on their flank when they find out what it is. Pony parents are struck with a very narrow form of divination that suggests what their children’s talents will likely be. The majority of parents give their foals names according to that glimpse.”

“Bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, isn’t it?”

“Sometimes. Key’s a good example of when it’s not. His full name’s Key Lime Pie.”

“Heh. So a cutie mark is like a magical tattoo that is a physical representation of a talent, mm? What’s yours look like?”

Lock lifted the barding over his flank, showing off his cutie mark. It was a standard keyhole shape.

“So that’s what those are.”

“Yeah. Anyway, as you can see, it is obviously a lock. And before you ask, no I won’t change my name to Keyhole. My brother’s already named Key; we don’t need to be mixed up even more than we already are.”

“Twins?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm. Can’t help you there.”

“Guess not.”

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Lock?”

“Yes?”

“Are you and your brother related to a Pinkamena Diane Pie?”

“…No. Why do you ask?”

“Your brother has the same last name as her.”

“Ah, you’re getting the naming conventions wrong.”

“Mm. Explain.”

Lock sighed and leaned into his chair. “Alright, well, there’s this whole history behind the different pony tribe’s names that I can’t recall, but it boils down to something like this: Earth ponies have clan names, like the Pies and Apples, Pegasi have familial theme naming, so two brothers might be Thunder and Lightning or Squall and Gust, and Unicorns have an addendum name that belongs to their family. Like the Sparkles, there’s Twilight Sparkle and Star Sparkle and Twilight Velvet Sparkle.”

“I see. What’s your family name, then?”

“Door.”

“Lock Door and Key Door, eh?”

“Yeah, that’s us.”

“What’re your parents’ names?”

Lock shifted to look at Marwolaeth. “Why do you care?”

Marwolaeth shrugged. “Always good to have friends in high places. Questions about family tend to foster trust, I find.”

Lock sighed. “Fair enough. My mother’s name is Bar, she makes house structures, and my father is More. He collects objects.”

“Does any of your family have a middle name to make the name roll better?”

“Some. My mother and I do: ‘The.’ Lock The Door and Bar The Door. My father doesn’t, though, and neither does my brother. More The Door and Key The Door sound odd. Key Lime Pie The Door even more so.”

“I see.”

Marwolaeth and Lock continue to make small talk as the day wore on, and Marwolaeth repeated the process with Key.

The next day found Shield Line pacing in front of a line of five unarmoured ponies that were standing in a line inside the dungeons.

“These are the mares and stallions that are easy enough to fill in for or replace that they can be assigned to be your guard, Pydredd.”

“Excellent. If you could get the door?”

“Why?”

“Because I’d rather not break down another one.”

Shield Line sighed. “Very well.” He slid the deadbolt from the door and opened it.

Marwolaeth stepped out of his cell and a few of the standing ponies drew a sharp breath. Shield Line himself took a deep breath before yelling at the assembled ponies.

“Ten hut! Present yourselves, fillies!”

The mare on the far left stepped forward, followed by the stallion next to her, and so on.

“Barrel, sir! Demolitions expert, sir!”

“Uncharted, sir! Preliminary Scouting and terrain inspection, sir!”

“Mess Hall, sir! Grub cooking and serving, sir!”

“Camouflage, sir! Stealth and sabotage, sir!

“Gearbox, sir! Communications and mechanics, sir!”

“At ease.”

Marwolaeth walked down the line twice before coming to a rest before Mess Hall, who held his gaze level.

“I remember you.”

“Yes, sir. I made you eat your food, sir.”

Marwolaeth smirked and chuckled. “Don’t call me sir. I am not your superior.”

“With all due respect, sir, you are intimidating enough to warrant the title of ‘sir,’ sir.”

“Hmph.”

Marwolaeth walked to the mare at the end. “Barrel, what is your opinion of my redecoration?”

“All due respect, I wouldn’t want my worst enemy to live there.”

“I am to assume that you would also object to my proposed inmate diet?”

“Mess Hall informed Lock, Key, Stock, Gearbox and I of your suggestion. Wouldn’t feed it to a dog.”

“No indeed.”

Marwolaeth stalked to Gearbox.

“Communications and mechanics, mm?”

“Yes, sir. If it contains moving parts, I can fix it.”

“Indeed? Have you seen some of my weaponry?”

“I assume that you are referring to your collapsible, automated clip loading crossbow with three settings, sir?”

“Aye.”

“Give me three hours and a wrench and I can take it apart, clean it, and put it back together again, sir.”

“Impressive.”

“I try my best, sir.”

Marwolaeth stifled a chuckle as he passed Camouflage for the fifth time, stopping in front of Uncharted.

“So, I’m to understand that your talent lies in reconnaissance?”

“No, sir.”

“No? Your description earlier sounded suspiciously like reconnaissance.”

“Sir, reconnaissance surveys a situation for information relay. I only map the lay of the land, sir.”

“Mm.”

Marwolaeth walked back to his cell. “That will be all. Thank you, Shield Line.”

“Dismissed.” The five ponies shuffled out of the dungeons, Camouflage looking far dourer than the others. “Thoughts?”

“I like that Mess Hall fellow. He seems interesting. And Gearbox impressed me. Barrel was… less open to change than I would prefer, and Uncharted’s skills seem of little use to me.”

“And Camouflage?”

“Who?”

“Middle of the line. Stealth expert?”

“Huh. Didn’t even notice her.”

A faint sound could be heard in the dungeon from the hall outside. It almost seemed like a scream of frustration.

“Tell her to keep up the good work.”

Shield Line chuckled. “She has that problem frequently. I’ll have Gearbox, Mess Hall and Camouflage guard you for the remainder of your stay in the dungeons.”

“Sure thing.”

Another sound could be heard approaching the dungeons, the sound of galloping hooves. A disheveled mare burst into the dungeon with bags under her eyes.

“Am I late? Is it over?”

“Ah, late as usual, Foreign Tongue. Pydredd, this is our international relations translator, Foreign Tongue. Foreign Tongue, the prisoner, Marwolaeth Pydredd.”

“Ah, yes. You prefer Pydredd, right?”

“That is correct.”

“Right. Ooh, we have so much to learn from one another!”

“Do we?”

“Oh yes, I can teach you about our customs and the cultures of our neighbors, and you can teach me about your people!”

“No.”

“Wonderful, I have a pencil right- No?”

“No.”

“But… But Princess Twilight Sparkle had told me of the prerequisites of being taught extraplanar culture, and I meet them all!”

“I have no desire to spread the knowledge of my people.”

“But… But why not?”

“Reasons that do not concern you.”

“Well- Well what if I buy the knowledge from you?”

“With?”

“Bits, of course.”

“What need have I of bits? I will complete my contract here soon, and then your bits will be absolutely worthless to me, and while I am here, everything that I need is provided for.”

“Well, what about trade?”

“Again, what need have I for anything that you have?”

“I- I… I’ll think of something!”

“You do that. Run along now.”

Foreign Tongue huffed and trotted out of the dungeons muttering to herself.

Shield Line turned to Marwolaeth as he settled onto his wooden cot. “You know that she won’t stop pestering you until you teach her, right?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Such a thing has been said before, but she can make even the secretive caribou spill their secrets. Rumour has it that she’s a bit of a xenophile.”

“Hmph. Let her try. Collectors better than her have tried before and met with the same result.”

“If you say so.”

Soon after Foreign Tongues departure, Camouflage arrived in her guard armour to replace Shield Line. Marwolaeth quickly forgot that she was in the room, and occasionally would turn to object to the lack of guard, until he caught sight of Camouflage again, and turned back to his cell.

That night, Mess Hall was assigned to guard Marwolaeth. He jumped when Camouflage hailed him as she passed, having missed her as well.

“Hey Pydredd.”

“Hello Mess Hall.”

“I just, um… About yesterday. I feel kinda bad about yelling at you like that.”

Marwolaeth chuckled. “Don’t. You did as a prison guard should, putting the inmates in their place. You should spread that sentiment to the rest of these guards.”

Mess Hall snorted. “Yeah, but we’d never use it. I don’t know I you’ve been told, but nopony’s been interred in the dungeons in years. Even if I did spread your prison reforms, they’d die out with us as we wouldn’t get to practice them.”

“Mm. Still would be nice to know that the option is open.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I have a personal question.”

“Mm?”

“Your name, Mess Hall. Did your parents name you that, or did you choose it on your own?”

“Ah, I chose it when I joined the guard. Used to be called Serving Spoon, part of the illustrious Spoon clan. Didn’t feel like Serving Spoon really meshed with the guard’s image, though, so I changed it to Mess Hall.”

“Hm. Interesting. So your family is the Spoon clan?”

Mess Hall snorted and adopted a snooty accent. “Oh yes, the illustrious Spoon clan is almost as widespread as the Apple clan. If there is a prosperous town, chances are that there is a Spoon there to partake in the businesses there.” He dropped the accent, chuckling. “Me, I’m from Ponyville. My dad’s Soup Spoon and he runs a few charity organizations, and my mom’s Silver Tongue. She’s a politician in Canterlot. I have a sister, too. She lives down in Ponyville with my dad. Her name’s Silver Spoon.”

“Got anyone in your family named Tea Spoon?”

Mess Hall chuckled again. “Yeah. That’s my great grandmother, who opened the silverware shop chain Tea Spoon’s Tea Spoons and Other Eating Utensils.”

“Interesting.”

Marwolaeth and Mess Hall continued to discuss the guard and its food and other related topics until Gearbox arrived to relieve Mess Hall. Gearbox was looking extremely proud of himself as he sauntered up to Marwolaeth’s cell.

“Pydredd, guess what?”

“You managed to take apart, clean, and reassemble my automatic crossbow in less than three hours.”

“I- Well, yeah. How’d you know?”

“I recalled the boast that you had made yesterday, and observed your self-sure demeanor, and inferred that you had exceeded your own expectations.”

“Wow. Man, you’re good.”

“I’ve had practice.”

“So, yeah, that crossbow of yours is ingenious! That spring system for loading the bolts into place is so simple; I started wondering why Equestria hadn’t thought of it yet! And then I realized that it was because we haven’t had cause or need for an improved crossbow in decades, so it’s stayed relatively the same.”

“Interesting. Did you test-fire it after reassembly?”

“Well, no. My hooves won’t fit into the trigger guard.”

“Ah, good point.”

“So where’d you get something like that?”

“Well, I acquired one designed to shoot wooden stakes from an odd fellow a long time ago in a land plagued by vampires. A few simple modifications allowed it to fire regular bolts as well.”

“Wow. That sounds fascinating! Can you tell me about it?”

“No.”

Gearbox pouted. “Aw. Guess I should have expected that one. Everypony heard Princess Twilight Sparkle and Foreign Tongue complaining about your lack of cooperation with their studies. Rumour has it that they’ve begun plotting to weasel the information out of you. I’d be on my guard, if I were you.”

“They’re welcome to try. It’s very unlikely that they’d try anything that I haven’t seen before.”

“If what they said about how long you’ve been alive is true, I believe you.”

“Hm. Say, Gearbox. You’re a unicorn. Lock explained the Unicorn naming traditions, and I wondered if your family name was Box.”

“That’s right. You certainly catch on quick. Yeah, my name’s supposed to be Gear Box, but that pause in the middle makes it sound… I dunno, dissociative. So I say Gearbox.”

“Interesting. Family?”

“Yeah, I have my dad Tackle Box. He fishes for a hobby, but he’s a pro hoofball player. Then there’s my mom Music Box. She makes those music box contraptions from scratch. It’s where I got my affinity for mechanics from, they say.”

“Only child?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. Always wanted a little sister like Mess Hall has.”

“Marry someone with a little sister. It’ll be like having your own.”

“Eh, too little too late. I’m not going to base my entire relationship endeavors around if she’s got a little sister.”

“Good point. So what do you do in the guard?”

Marwolaeth and Gearbox spent the rest of the day comparing blueprints for odd machines and contraptions, explaining their uses and materials until morning.

As the sun rose, Gearbox stifled a yawn. “Wow, and I’d been told that you’d keep quiet by Camouflage. And here we are, staying up all night talking.”

“Indeed, you’ve done rather well. Only Shield Line has been as attentive as you.”

“Heh. Say, I don’t think Camouflage ever mentioned that you slept. How long has it been since you got some shuteye?”

“Mm, going on two days now, I think. Yes, I caught a few hours of rest just before my trial.”

“Man, aren’t you tired?”

“No. I’ve been doing nothing but sit and talk. Nothing to sap my energy. Give me a good day’s work, I might sleep that night. I’ve got enough reserve energy to go two, maybe three days without sleep normally. If I do absolutely nothing, I can go an entire week.”

“Jeeze. You would make a killer watchpony.”

Marwolaeth smirked. “That I do.”

Shield Line trotted into the dungeons. “Alright Pydredd, your sentence is up. You’ll be escorted to the train station by the Elements of Harmony, where you’ll meet up with your assigned guard. I’ve been told to remind you of the no killing command issued by Princess Celestia, and to pass on her hopes that she doesn’t see you in jail again.”

“I appreciate the sentiment. Gearbox, you should probably go get some sleep.”

“Yahuh. Requesting permission for leave, sir.”

“Permission granted. Go get some rest, you’ll need it.”

As Gearbox exited the dungeons, Marwolaeth turned to Shield Line.

“I’ve been assigned Gearbox, haven’t I?”

“Mm. How’d you know?”

“I’m not due for release for a few hours yet, and you told Gearbox to get as much rest as he could, because he’ll need it. Either he’ll be back on the patrols as soon as his shift rolls around, or he’ll need to meet me at the train station.”

“Heh. You’re too good at this, Pydredd. I might miss you when you leave.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Shield Line stuck his hoof into Marwolaeth’s hand and shook it firmly before opening a door into a side chamber where Twilight Sparkle and her friends were.

“Pydredd!” Twilight roared. “You broke your own code!”

“Did I?”

“You told Shield Line about your people even though he probably isn’t as close to meeting your prerequisites as I am!”

“Ah, you seem to have a misconception here. Shield Line, what did I swap stories with you about?”

“Ah… Creatures you’ve slain and the journeys to find them, I believe.”

“Correct. Hardly a discussion on my people, is it?”

“I- It’s more than you’ll tell me, though!”

Marwolaeth and Shield Line snorted in unison. “Do you really want me to tell you how I tore the still-beating heart from an afanc?”

“Well… No. But still, it’s the principle of the thing! You’ll talk to Captain Shield Line about your travels, but you won’t talk to me?”

“Sounds about right.”

“I- But-” Twilight made a frustrated screeching noise. “You’re impossible!”

“So I’ve been told. Now, I’d like to give my assigned guard as much time to prepare as possible, and I do not know this city. Can you all show me around?”

“I… Fine, but this isn’t over!”

“You might think so. Now, show me the sights, if you would. Shield Line, it’s been an honour meeting you.”

“Likewise. Good luck.”

“Be safe, be healthy.”

As Marwolaeth and his charges left the room, Marwolaeth could hear Foreign Tongue begin questioning Shield Line on all that Marwolaeth had told him. He smirked. Marwolaeth had not told Shield Line about the circumstances behind his battles, only of the creatures and how he fought them. She would glean little of Marwolaeth’s culture from Shield Line.

As the Elements of Harmony led Marwolaeth on a tour of Canterlot, he could hear the gossip being passed around as he walked. All of it concerned his lack of decorum and respect for the princess, and how he ate meat.

Such scandal over being a primarily carnivorous creature. At least they weren’t running him out of town.

Finally, after two or three hours of wandering, Marwolaeth and his charges arrived at the Canterlot train station where Gearbox was waiting for them looking slightly tired toting a large crate. He waved at Marwolaeth.

“Pydredd! Over here! We’ve stockpiled all of your weapons so far, and you’re allowed to have them back now that your prison sentence is over.”

“Very good. How long until the train arrives?”

“Anywhere between five minutes and half an hour from now.”

“Perfect.”

Marwolaeth began strapping his extensive amount of weaponry onto his armour, and had clasped the last sheath into place when the train pulled into the station forty five minutes later.

Everypony and Marwolaeth filed onto the train car and sat down, Marwolaeth feeling much more secure with the reassuring weight of his arsenal attached to his armour.

Applejack scooted over to Marwolaeth’s side.

“Well, we’re finally on our way back t’ Ponyville. Maybe this time we’ll actually git ta’ settle ye’ in.”

Marwolaeth chuckled. “Yep. Home sweet home for however long Celestia needs me. Who knows how long that’ll be?”

Chapter 4: Dragons and Pies

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Marwolaeth settled into a pile of hay in the loft of the Apple family’s barn, kicking one leg over the other and putting his hands behind his head.

“Yes. This will do.”

Applejack scratched her head. “Ya sure? Ah could bring up a mattress for ya.”

“No need. I’ve slept in worse. At least it’s clean.”

“Well, Ah guess. Ya need anythin’, just holler.”

“Noted.”

Applejack slid down the ladder into the loft and trotted to the door of the barn before Marwolaeth hailed her.

“Ah, one thing, Jack.”

Applejack turned around. “Changed yer mind on the mattress, Sugarcube?”

“No. Do you happen to have planks of wood and excess buckets lying around?”

“Sure do! Spare buildin’ wood’s behind the plow on th’ first floor, an’ the buckets’re in the cellar. Want me to go get one?”

“Please do. If you can, bring three or four.”

“Sure thing, Sugarcube.”

Marwolaeth leapt from the loft onto the barn floor and began rustling through the varied lengths of wood, occasionally tossing a plank or two over his shoulder. Applejack returned with a pile of buckets balanced on her back when he had accrued a small pile of mid length, thick planks of wood.

“That’s a lot a’ wood ya got there. Here’s four buckets for ya, like ya asked.”

“My thanks.”

Marwolaeth began lying wood in various patterns, crafting the likenesses of various beings in simple lines, with the buckets as heads. Applejack watched him work until her curiosity got the better of her.

“So what’cha makin’ there?”

“Training dummies.”

“Dummies? What fer?”

“Training.”

Applejack snorted. “Trotted right into that one. Trainin’ fer what?”

“Weapons.”

“Weapons? Ah thought that Princess Celestia said that you couldn’t use ‘em.”

“Hardly. She has decreed that I am not to kill while I am here. That does not ban the use of weapons. Still, I foresee a long period of quiet before me, and I would not want to become out of practice. Thus: Training dummies.”

“Mmh. Fine. Jus’ don’ set ‘em up where ya might hurt somepony.”

“I am open to suggestions.”

Applejack rubbed her foreleg on her chin. “Hmm, Ah might know a place. Nice quiet spot next to a little pond in th’ middle o’ the orchard.”

“Very well. I will have you lead me there in the morning. For now, I have work to do.”

“Mind if Ah watch?”

“Mildly. Stand back if you do.”

Applejack backed up against the doorframe and sat down to watch.

Marwolaeth stood above the stick figures of wood and took a deep breath, probing the latent energy held in the marrow of his bones. The phantom lines of script phased into being along his arms. He exhaled and the glowing lines slithered from his forearms to his legs as his concentration went to the bones in his feet.

Marwolaeth drew a wickedly sharp shortsword and filled his lungs with air, taking a balanced stance with two hands on the hilt of his sword. The magical lines flared briefly as Marwolaeth lifted his foot and began a slow exhale.

Marwolaeth stomped his raised foot as the lines of arcane script vanished from view. Applejack felt the earth buckle under his boot and saw the floor of the barn ripple violently, throwing the wood figures into the air. Transfixed as she was by the floor, Applejack almost missed Marwolaeth moving.

Marwolaeth’s feet slid over the straw and dirt as though he was sliding on ice. His body was in constant motion, twisting and turning to allow his sword to dance through the hail of wood. And dance it did in a mesmerizing flow of ups and downs, spins and twirls almost faster than Applejack could track. In a mere few seconds, Marwolaeth had reached the other end of the barn, the ground had ceased rippling, and the wood blocks fell to the floor.

Marwolaeth sheathed his sword before turning to survey his work. Each plank of wood had gained a set of notches. He nodded.

Applejack would have dropped her flank to the ground had she not already been sitting. In its place, her jaw lay snugly between her hooves as she stared at Marwolaeth.

Marwolaeth began assembling his wooden dummies, slotting notches into each other to keep the planks in place. Soon he had four upright models with buckets for heads and wood for bodies.

“That will do for now. Good night, Jack.”

Marwolaeth ascended the ladder into the loft with one of the discarded blocks of wood in one hand. Minutes passed with no movement from Applejack, and Marwolaeth chucked the block of wood at the light switch, flipping the switch and plunging the barn into darkness.

With a choked moan, Applejack trotted into the house in a zombie like trance.

In the morning, Marwolaeth carried his training dummies over his shoulder as he walked behind Applejack, who seemed to have recovered from her wonder overnight. She regaled Marwolaeth with information about Sweet Apple Acres as they walked until they reached their destination. Once in the clearing, Marwolaeth set the training dummies upright and hammered them into the earth while Applejack watched him work in silence.

When Marwolaeth finished, Applejack spoke up. “Say, Pydredd?”

“Mm?” Marwolaeth knelt by the edge of the pond, inspecting the water with his back to Applejack.

“Ah can’t help but be impressed by that display ya put on last night.”

“Mmhmm.” Marwolaeth lifted the visor of his helmet and cupped his hands, bringing the pond water to his mouth.

“Do ya… Could ya teach me how ta do that?”

“I could.” Marwolaeth lowered his visor with a clap.

Applejack waited for a few moments. “…Will ya?”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“Do you know how to use a blade?”

“Uh… Well shucks, the closest thing to a blade we use on th’ farm’s a scythe. Unless ya want ta count kitchen knives?”

“No. The scythe however… Mm, give me a scythe and three days and I might be able to teach you.”

“Hot dog! What’cha gonna do with the scythe fer three days?”

“Practice. I have not properly wielded a scythe in far too long.”

“Well, alright. We’ll go into town later today ta get ya a shiny new scythe. But first, we gotta get th’ chores done! Here, lemme show ya how ta buck apples!”

“Kick the tree to dislodge the apples, gather the fallen apples in a bucket.”

“Well, shoot, how’d you know?”

Marwolaeth pointed at the nearest tree. “All of the trees have clearly defined hoofprints on strategically placed points where the tree is strongest and most pliable. Either that is how you mark your trees, or you shake the trees by kicking them. The name of the job, apple bucking, narrowed the choice.”

“Huh. Not bad. How’d you spot those, anyway, through that big ol’ gong on yer head?”

“Years of practice with it on.”

“Mm, fair enough. Still, knowing what apple bucking is and actually doing it are two different things all together.”

“True. Lead the way.”

Hours of instruction and labour later, Applejack returned to the Apple family house with a cart full of apples with Marwolaeth walking calmly beside her.

“Aaaand that’s th’ last of it! We’re ahead o’ schedule, thanks ta ya, Pydredd! Ah’m surprised ya caught on that fast!”

“It’s simple, really. Moderating the strength of the kick is the majority of the technique.”

“Shoot, no need ta be humble. An’ ya ain’t even winded!”

“A good few hours’ work is not enough to tire me, though I shall be sleeping soundly tonight. Still, it was a valuable experience. It is rare, indeed, for me to get an opportunity to learn a new skill.”

“Aw, shucks, tweren’t nothin’. Well, since we’ve got all the chores done, Ah might as well take ya into town fer that scythe. Ah wanna get together with th’ girls, too.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Applejack and Marwolaeth walked into town, first stopping by the local blacksmith, a tan mare with a hammer for a cutie mark meeting them at the door.

“Ah, you must be that Pydredd character that’s gotten the town up in a tizzy. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like a scythe.”

“Taking up farming, are we?”

“Ayep!” Applejack chirped. “He’s livin’ up at the farm while he’s here. ‘Course, room an’ board ain’t free, so we have ‘im doin’ chores fer us.”

“Sounds fair. Come on in! Do you have a style of scythe that you prefer?”

“No. Show me what you have.”

The blacksmith brought out a chest from behind her counter and opened it to reveal a multitude of scythe shafts. Some of them curved around to fit a pony’s shoulder while others were shaped in the classical shape, some with handles and others as a mere staff with a slot for the blade. One shaft in particular caught Marwolaeth’s eye.

“What’s that one?” Marwolaeth pointed to a black staff with a handle that appeared to be segmented, much like an insect’s leg.

“Ah, that’s a special from the ant farmers down in San Antonio. It’s collapsible; you just pull apart the segments and fold them up. Good for travelers, and in a pinch, you can just grab a hold on one end and shake it. The sinew-rubber stuff threaded through each piece will snap them into place.”

“Perfect. And the blade?”

“One of my own finely hoofcrafted crescent blades, of course! Free of charge with purchase of the haft.”

“Excellent. Jack?”

“A’right, how much?”

Marwolaeth hefted the black staff as the two mares talked business, taking it apart and putting it back together again repeatedly. Eventually, the business concluded, bits changed hooves, and the blacksmith handed Marwolaeth a large, finely honed, crescent shaped blade with one flat end and a few screws to fasten the blade into place.

“Pleasure doing business with you! Have a nice day!” The blacksmith called as Marwolaeth and Applejack left her shop.

Marwolaeth collapsed the scythe and clipped the cylinder of wood and steel to his back. “An excellent find. Where to next?”

“We all agreed ta meet at Twilight’s today, so we’ll just trot over there.”

“Spike will be there, I assume.”

“Yep! He’s Twilight’s assistant. Keeps th’ library clean an’ tidy.”

“Library?”

“Right, ya ain’t been ta Twilight’s yet! She lives in th’ Ponyville library. She’s th’ librarian an’ Spike helps ‘er run th’ place.”

“I see.”

Applejack walked up to the library as Marwolaeth hung back to observe the library. The tree that it was housed in looked alive and well, though he could feel the faint thrumming of various spells cast upon the wood and its contents. He nodded in approval as he stepped forward to greet Twilight, who had opened the door and allowed Applejack to enter.

Marwolaeth ducked through the doorway and into the darkened library. His eyes could pick out the shapes of multitudes of ponies attempting to hide, and his ears heard the faint giggling and whispers of the ponies.

Suddenly, Twilight reignited the lights and all of the ponies leapt out of their hiding spots to shout at Marwolaeth.

“SURPRISE!”

Marwolaeth didn’t even flinch. Pinkie Pie bounced up to Marwolaeth.

“Ha! Gotcha! I bet we scared you. Did we scare you?”

“No.”

“I knew- Wait, what?”

“I was neither surprised, nor scared by you ponies.”

“Buh… But why?”

Marwolaeth held up his hand and began ticking off of his fingers. “The lights were off in a public facility during business hours, Applejack disappeared behind the couch as soon as she thought she was out of my sight, I could see at least five tails poking from behind various pieces of furniture, and I could hear you all giggling.”

Pinkie Pie scuffed her hoof against the ground and scowled. “Couldn’t you at least act surprised?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Pinkie Pie demanded.

Twilight put a hoof across Pinkie’s withers. “He can’t lie, remember, Pinkie?”

Pinkie harrumphed. “…Fine. You win this time, Marmalade.”

“Pydredd.”

“Pie Crust.”

“Close enough. Surprise party?”

Pinkie perked up immediately. “Oh, right!” Pinkie swung a hoof around to indicate the library, which was covered in streamers and had a multitude of ponies that had begun to partake in the party favours and games. “It’s your welcome to Ponyville party! I know it’s a bit late, but you were in Canterlot for your first day in Equestria, and I didn’t get to throw you a party, so I settled for just a welcome to Ponyville party instead because you’ve already been welcomed into Equestria, even though the guards probably didn’t throw you a party like me, they’re just so stuffy sometimes, and by sometimes, I mean all the time! Did you know that their poker faces are so solid that even Dashie and I can’t make them laugh out loud? Dashie resorted to tickling them one time, but that’s cheating because they can’t help it, the mind is the slave to the body and all that and ooh! I need to introduce you to everypony! This is Twilight and Dashie and AJ and-”

Pinkie Pie plucked ponies from their activities and tossed them in front of Marwolaeth as she listed their names. The displaced ponies did not seem to mind; they just shook their heads and chuckled before returning to what they had been doing previously.

Marwolaeth turned to Twilight as Pinkie finished the introductions. “She does this for every new resident?”

Twilight nodded. “Yep. Really, though, it’s just an excuse to throw a party. She’ll find any reason to throw a party, so hardly a day goes by where she’s not setting one up.”

“I take it that my presence will not be mandatory?”

“Well… No, not technically. But since we do have authority over some of the things you do, she might try to force you to go to each one.”

“Inefficient.”

“Well, as you said before, we don’t have complete control of you, so she may not be able to actually demand that of you.”

“We’ll burn that bridge when we cross it.”

Twilight looked askance at Marwolaeth. “I don’t think that that’s how that-”

“And that’s the last of them! Hey, what’cha guys talking about?” Pinkie appeared, standing on Marwolaeth’s shoulders.

“About whether or not you will attempt to force me to attend every single party you throw.”

Twilight grinned nervously and jabbed Marwolaeth’s shin with her elbow, drawing a dull gonging noise. She hissed and rubbed at her foreleg. “Ah, that’s gonna leave a bruise.” She muttered.

Pinkie Pie jumped off of Marwolaeth’s shoulders and sat down next to Twilight. “Silly Paint Can, I wouldn’t make you go to every party! That would just be silly, dragging you from place to place for each party, and you’d get all tired and grumpy! Even I need to take breaks from partying sometimes, after all!”

Marwolaeth nodded. “Good to see that you can temper your enthusiasm.”

“Pff, of course I temper my enthusiasm! I temper it into a durable, flexible entity and hone it to a sharp edge, so that I can use it more effectively!”

Twilight blinked and looked at Pinkie. “Did… Did you just make a smithing analogy?”

“I sure did! Gotta put it into terms he’ll understand so that he’ll stop asking questions sooner so that he can go enjoy his party quicker!”

Marwolaeth nodded. “Very well. Thank you for the party, Pie.”

Marwolaeth avoided the Twister mat and approached the Pin the Tail on the Pony area, where he had cloth tied around his helmet before he was spun around. He pinned the tail almost exactly on target.

Next Marwolaeth approached the snack tables and lifted his visor barely enough to fit a cupcake into his mouth, keeping his face in shadow. He shuddered at the overpowering sweetness in the pastry.

“Hey there.” A voice called from between Marwolaeth’s feet.

A small purple dragon, no larger than a small dog, stood underneath Marwolaeth, tapping on the top of his boot.

“Ah, you must be Spike.”

“Yahuh, can you pass me that cupcake up there?” Spike asked, pointing at one of the cupcakes on a tray.

Marwolaeth gave Spike the cupcake and crouched down next to him. “So then, I have questions for you.”

“Mfea. Tw’lght- Mm, ‘ne sec.” Spike swallowed the remains of his cupcake. “Twilight said you might.”

“Most of my questions will have to be asked later. Can you come to Sweet Apple Acres tomorrow morning?”

“Uh, I’ll have to ask Twilight, but I might.”

“Good. I’ll conduct your evaluation there. For now, I’d like to see a few things. Call them party tricks.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Evaluation? Who said anything about an evaluation?”

“I did. Tomorrow at the farm. I’ll explain then. Now, party tricks.”

Spike crossed his arms. “Alright, fine, what do you want to see?”

Marwolaeth pulled a piece of hard, toasted bread from the table. “Char this.”

“No can do.”

“No?”

“Nah, I don’t have my flame yet. Just some weird magic-y fire that sends things to Princess Celestia.”

“Interesting. You know, it’s a shame that she has to miss this party. Why don’t we send her a slice of cake?”

Spike nodded, looking pensive. “I dunno. It sounds like a good idea, but Twilight doesn’t like sending the Princess more than she’s asked for… But you’re right, and the Princess does like cake. Alright, gimme a plate with cake and a fork.”

When the food was put into Spike’s claw, he heaved a mighty breath and spewed a stream of green fire over the plate and its occupants, which turned into a light green ash and was whisked out of the tree house on an invisible wind.

“Interesting indeed…”

“Ahuh. You want to see anything else?”

Marwolaeth looked Spike over, noting his lack of wings and the fins on the side of his head. “Mm, yes. Can you scale-sing?”

“Uh, I guess? Ahem. Mi-mi-mi-mi-mi!”

“Not that kind of singing. Guess I get to teach you a new trick.”

“Yeah, sure. What can you teach me about being a dragon?”

“More than you already know, obviously. Now, take one of your claws and flick the first spine on your head.”

“Um, okay?” Spike did so, sending his spine quivering and vibrating.

“Now open your mouth wide and run your claws horizontally along your belly.

Spike opened his mouth and immediately began issuing a low hum from his throat. When he placed a claw in the middle of his stomach, the humming changed pitch and volume depending on how many claws he placed on his stomach at once, and where they were positioned. Soon, the volume drained despite Spike’s attempts to stop it as the spine on his head came to a standstill. His eyes opened wide as he reflected on his new skill.

“Whoa.”

“Not bad, eh? Keep practicing.”

“Yeah! Thanks, mister Marwolaeth!”

“Call me Pydredd.”

“Right. Thanks Pydredd!”

“You’re welcome, Spike.”

Marwolaeth stood up and turned around to find Twilight staring at his stomach. She quickly backed up and looked at his helmet.

“What were you doing to Spike?” She asked, a suspicious squint scrunching up her snout.

“Teaching him.”

“Yeah? Teaching him what?” Rainbow Dash flew in front of Marwolaeth’s visor.

“Scale-singing.”

“And what’s that? Some kind of alien indoctrination spell?”

“No, it’s a natural skill for a dragon. Watch.”

Marwolaeth turned to watch Spike, who was sitting on the sets of the stairs to the second floor, periodically flicking his spines and experimenting with his claws as he tuned himself.

“He sounds like a cat fight.”

“For now, he might. When he finds the proper notational areas, he’ll be producing sounds that you likely have never heard before.”

“A likely story!”

“Rainbow Dash.” Twilight butted in. “We went over this. He can’t lie, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Still, I don’t like him. I don’t need guarding, anyway!”

“Your princess seems to think otherwise.”

“Yeah well- Uh… Shoot, can’t argue with the Princess.”

“Mmhmm. If we’re done here, I’ll be returning to the party.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Over the course of the night, Marwolaeth played and won at darts and tug of war, and lost at Twister and the eating contest, which he declined to enter. Eventually the party dwindled down and came to a stop, where Marwolaeth and Applejack bid the group farewell and began the trek back to Sweet Apple Acres.

“Whew! Another hit from Pinkie, wouldn’t ya say, Pydredd?”

“It was… definitely enjoyable. I have no frame of reference with which to judge if it was a hit or not.”

“Well, take my word fer it, then.”

“Easy enough.”

“So, uh, Ah heard ya talkin’ ta Spike about that scale-singin’ thing.”

“Mmhmm?”

“Can ya do that yerself?”

“No. I am not a dragon.”

“Oh. That makes sense, Ah guess.”

“Yes. Good night, Jack.”

“’Night, Pydredd.”

Marwolaeth slept that night, dreaming of apples, fire and cake. An inordinately large amount of cake, in fact. He could distinctly remember that it was banana flavoured, and a maniacal laughter could be heard in the land of cakes.

In the morning, Spike did not appear at Sweet Apple acres, so Marwolaeth took the time before Applejack came for him to start chores to become acquainted with his new scythe. He practiced drawing it and sheathing it for most of the time, getting a feel for how it snapped into place. He gave it a few experimental twirls as well, gauging its weight and balance.

As Marwolaeth went through his chores, he created a list of things that he had to accomplish before any new threat reared its head. Among the items of the list were various ideas on how to better equip his charges to deal with enemies, with the hope that if Celestia observed their abilities, then he would be discharged, as he would no longer be needed to protect them.

As Marwolaeth and Big Macintosh finished hauling buckets of apples into the house cellar, thus completing their chores for the day, Spike waddled up to Marwolaeth.

“Hey Pydredd. Twilight said that I couldn’t come over this morning, ‘cuz I had some cleaning to do, but that I could come over when I finished.”

“Understandable. We were just finished here, right Macintosh?”

“Eeyup.”

“Excellent. Follow me, Spike.”

Marwolaeth led Spike to his training area next to the pond.

“From your posture and demeanor, I can conclude that you have no combat training?”

“Well, no. I help in a library, why would I need to know how to fight?”

“Before now, no reason. Circumstances change, however, and I have been assigned to keep you and the Elements of Harmony safe. The safest that you can be, however, is not with me by your side. If you can defend yourself adequately, then I can spend my energies better protecting the others. And you can help.”

“Well, I do like helping, but I don’t really like fighting.”

“Good.”

“Really?”

“One of my old masters used to say that a warrior that fights only for the thrill of the fight is weak, and prone to fits of anger. The warrior that hates to fight, but must to protect those he holds dear, will end conflict as quickly and painlessly as possible. Efficient, calm and effective.”

“Wow. I never thought of it that way.”

“Few do. But we can work on fighting later, if you want to at all. For now, I just want to give you a quick physical check. I have told Twilight of my past with dragons. Has she told you of it?”

“Uh… no. You know dragons?”

“Raised a nest of them once.”

“Really? That’s… unheard of!”

“On this plane, perhaps. I will see the difference between the dragons of here and there as we go on. This may get a little bit uncomfortable.”

And it was. Over the next hour, Marwolaeth, picked, prodded and turned Spike every which way, even going so far as to stick a finger into Spike’s mouth to trace his teeth.

“Well, I can say for sure that you are male, and physically a baby dragon, despite nature’s course.”

“What’s that mean?”

“How old are you?”

“Um… Like eighteen or nineteen years old, I think.”

“Have you always been this size?”

“Yeah. Well… No. I once went into a hoarding spree and prematurely grew into adulthood.”

“Hmm. Sounds about right. Your first taste of the hoard. Normally, a baby dragon will look upon its mother’s hoard and desire it for itself. In these cases, the mother will beat down the baby and tell it to go find its own hoard, which it does. Slowly at first, it starts by stealing small trinkets from its mother. The mother notices, of course, but it is the start of her hatchling’s hoard, so she does not mind so long as the baby moves on from her hoard soon.

“Eventually, the child becomes impatient with the rate at which its hoard is growing, and turns to outside sources to feed it. From there, nature takes its course and the dragon grows in relation to the size of its hoard.”

“Wow. That makes… a lot of sense.”

“Now, you seem like a disciplined sort.”

“I like to think that I can keep a reign on my emotions, yeah.”

“The trick to growing up, but not growing too large for the ponies, is to limit your hoard size. Consciously pick a size that you’d want to stay at, and stop hoarding when you reach that size. Get Sparkle to help you if you can’t stop yourself.”

“Yeah… Yeah! This is great!” Spike began dancing to a silent orchestra and singing along. “I’mma be an a-dult! I’mma be an a-dult! Woo!”

“Until then, feel free to come to me with questions. If I can answer them, I will.”

“Oh, um, yeah.” Spike stopped dancing and coughed into his claws. “Um, do you know where I might get started?”

“Pick a good spot to hoard in, and pick a good, nonperishable valuable substance to keep around. Gold, gems, books, weapons.”

“Books?”

“Never underestimate the power of knowledge.”

“I… I can do that! I can make my own library!”

“Yes… You can do that… Just remember if you do that yes, the ponies taking your books will return them. That is what a library is for, after all.”

“Right, right.”

“Well, since we’ve got most of the day left; do you want me to begin teaching you how to defend yourself?”

Spike looked at the ground and scuffed his foot. “I… I want to take some time to think on that, actually. I mean, it’s one thing to be the potentially dangerous predator. Once I’m bigger, people will be even more afraid of me.”

“And you worry that by being trained to fight, they’ll see you as more of a threat.”

“Yeah…”

Marwolaeth rubbed Spike on the head. “I understand. Just keep practicing your scale-singing for now. We may as well head back. Twilight might come looking for you.”

Spike nodded and followed Marwolaeth back to the farmhouse, where Applejack was talking to Twilight and Fluttershy. Applejack waved the boys down when she saw them approaching.

“Hey Pydredd! We were just talkin’ about you. Fluttershy an’ Twilight wanna have ya over fer some tea!”

“Tea and questions?”

“Um, well, maybe.”

“Alright.”

“Spike, would you like to join us?”

Spike crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Pff, tea and biscuits? No thanks. I’ll just head back to the library for some gems.”

Twilight giggled. “Alright Spike. Have fun.”

Marwolaeth, Twilight, Fluttershy and Applejack began walking away from town, down a dirt path. Marwolaeth turned to Twilight.

“You let him eat gems on a regular basis?”

“Well, yeah. It’s a staple in his diet.”

Marwolaeth groaned and gently placed his hand over his visor. “Yes, they are a staple in his diet, just like sugar and caffeine is a staple in yours. Gems are to dragons as candy is to a pony.”

“I… Oh. No wonder he’s always so eager to eat them. He can survive on them, though, right?”

Marwolaeth sighed. “Yes, but it is not healthy for him. He should be eating meat.”

Twilight gulped. “…I was afraid of that. Those incisors. The canines. I just… where am I going to get meat for him? He eats a lot, and meat is expensive in Equestria. There’s not even a place that sells meat in Ponyville!”

Fluttershy coughed. “Um… I do.” She looked to the ground.

Twilight jerked her head around to look at Fluttershy. “You do?”

“Yes. It’s… It’s always a sad occasion when I do, though. I only preserve the animals that die of natural causes, but even then…” Fluttershy sniffed. “I always try to think of all the good times we had together when I… harvest the meat and preserve it. It just… It’s always so hard.”

Marwolaeth soothingly petted Fluttershy’s head as she began to cry while Twilight hugged her friend.

“It’s good that it hurts. Let’s you know that you’re not numb. That you still value life.”

“I know…” Fluttershy sniffed and took a few deep breaths before smiling at Marwolaeth and Twilight. “I’m okay now. Thank you… both of you. I can… I can supply Spike with some meat every now and again.”

“Thank you, Fluttershy. I’m sure that he’ll appreciate it.”

The trio sat in silence for a few moments before Fluttershy stood up and led the group to her cottage, where they had been walking towards before they stopped to comfort her.

The animals in the cottage immediately sensed Fluttershy’s sadness and mobbed her with sympathetic hugs. She smiled and went about making tea as Marwolaeth sat on the floor of her cottage and Twilight sat on the couch.

“So, Pydredd.”

“Mm?”

“What had you wanted to talk to Spike about?”

“I wanted to confirm a few suspicions, and talk to him about his plans for the future. Gave him some advice.”

“Really? What’d you tell him?”

“I told him how he could grow to the size that he should be.”

Twilight’s eye twitched. “You… encouraged him to get greedy?”

“Oh no. That would be foolish. Dragons increase in size according to the size of their hoard. I advised him to accumulate a small hoard, just enough to bring him to the proper size. He may ask for your help in moderating how much he keeps, though.”

“Oh. Oh, good.”

“I think he’s gotten it into his head to start a library to rival yours.”

There was an audible ‘plink’ing sound as a strand of Twilight’s mane popped out of its place.

“What.”

Chapter 5: Assessment

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The scent of ozone filled the air of Fluttershy’s cottage.

The door hung on its hinges, blasted open.

A small circle of char marred the cleanliness of the decoration.

“Well, that was impressive.” Marwolaeth grunted.

Fluttershy huddled behind the arch that led to the kitchen, her eyes cautiously peering around the doorframe. “Goodness! What… What happened?”

“Sparkle exploded and left.”

“Oh. N-Now when you say exploded…”

“Changed colours and was set aflame.”

“Ah. I was afraid of that. What happened?”

“Sparkle does not appreciate competition.”

“…What?”

“Spike has begun to hoard books, and has taken it upon himself to start his own library. Sparkle does not support this course of action.”

“Oh. That doesn’t seem like something Twilight would do.”

“Might be a side effect of being the only librarian for some time, coupled with a fear of change, and some sort of big sister instinct for Spike, not wanting him to grow, and maybe she’s worried that he might be better at running a library than she is.”

“That’s quite insightful, Mister Pydredd.”

“Years of practice. Now, about that tea?”

“Oh, um…” Fluttershy hid her face behind her mane and scuffed her hoof. “I dropped the teapot when Twilight… exploded. The tea spilled.”

“Ah, that’s a shame. Here, let me help you brew another batch.”

“Um, if it’s all right with you, Mister Pydredd, I’d rather go check on Twilight and Spike.”

“Of course. I will take my leave, then.” Marwolaeth ducked underneath the doorframe.

“Okay. Feel free to come back later.”

Marwolaeth nodded his assent and began walking towards Ponyville. Half way to town, Rainbow Dash tried to dive bomb him.

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash cried as she pulled up from her steep dive, impacting her front hooves with Marwolaeth’s chest. He neither flinched nor moved, and Rainbow Dash crumpled against his chest plate and rolled to the ground.

“Yes, Dash?”

Rainbow Dash sat up and shook her head as her eyes wobbled in their sockets. She stood up and shook her body before glaring up at Marwolaeth. “What’d you do to Spike?!” She flew up to press her snout against Marwolaeth’s visor. “Twilight’s been tearing through town looking for him, and last anyone saw, he was with you!”

“My suggestion would be to check the bookstores or the library. I gave him some fatherly advice about the power of knowledge.”

“Oh yeah? Well- Well, you’re not his dad!”

“No, but either he has none, or his father is not sufficiently knowledgeable in Draconic rearing and caretaking.”

“Yeah, well stop it! You’re worrying Twilight! And even worse, you made me wake up from my nap!”

“Why, Dash, are you trying to get me to stop giving advice to my friend?” Marwolaeth put a hand to his chest and feigned a hurt voice. “Why, I bet if you had your way, you would have me lie to Spike about his lineage and biological needs so that he could be small forever! Would you really have me betray his trust like that, Rainbow Dash?”

“I- No, that’s-” Rainbow Dash let out an angry grunt. “Stop twisting what I mean! And stop using big words!”

“Why, most certainly, Rainbow Dash, it would be remiss of me to transcend my bounds.” Marwolaeth heaved a melodramatic sigh. “I suppose that I shall abscond to my temporary abode, so that I can decompose in peace as you all continue your perfectly hum drum existences.”

Rainbow Dash rubbed her mane. “Ugh, you sound like Rarity. Just keep your troublemaking to a minimum, and I won’t have to clean your clock!”

“Why, Dash, is that a threat?”

“Sure, whatever. Now, I’ve got a nap to get to, so go do… Whatever it is that aliens do during the day.”

“Naturally.”

Rainbow Dash flew into the sky, where Marwolaeth watched her land on a cloud, and surreptitiously move it lower and behind him. He shook his head and walked into town, acutely aware of Rainbow Dash following him.

When he reached Ponyville, Marwolaeth began to wander, taking in the sights and memorizing the layout of the streets. Twilight passed him by multiple times, and she gave him dirty looks each time.

Marwolaeth finally entered a shop when his eyes caught a familiar glint of purple scales. A bell above the door chimed daintily as it hit the door and his head as he crouched through the door.

“Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic, unique, and magnifique! I’ll be right out!”

“Hey Pydredd. What brings you here?”

“You, Spike. Twilight has been looking for you.”

Spike chuckled. “Yeah, I know. She’s passed by, like, five times, already. It’s like she’s not even looking in the stores or through the windows.”

“Hm. Interesting. So what are you doing in this…” Marwolaeth surveyed the shop full of brightly dressed ponnequins. “…Dress shop?”

“Oh, well I just wanted to tell Rarity about my plan. She seemed happy and wanted to make some donations! And she gave me an idea!”

“Do tell.”

“I can just make the library my hoard!”

“Did you or Sparkle buy the books?”

“Uh, well no, they were here first.”

“Then they are not yours. Especially not yours to hoard.”

“Oh… That makes sense, I guess.”

“No shortcuts on this, I am afraid.”

“Nah, that’s okay. Wouldn’t want to shortcut the growing up process, right?”

“Ah, here we are, Spikey-Wikey! Now, welcome to- Oh, hello Mister Pydredd!”

“Rarity.”

“What brings you to my humble shop?”

“Just checking up on Spike.”

“Oh, such a dear, isn’t he?”

Marwolaeth looked down at Spike, who was staring at Rarity, drooling lightly with his hands clasped to his chest, with hearts in his eyes.

Literally, his eyes had been covered by two pink hearts.

“…Something like that. Is he- …Does he have heart stickers over his eyelids?”

“Oh, dear, no. He just does that sometimes. The magic of harmony can be a tad… unpredictable at times, and pulls things like this, sometimes.”

“I think… Are they beating along with his heartbeat?”

“As far as I can tell. Again, magic of harmony and such.”

“Huh. So, I’m to assume that this ‘magic of harmony’ is your world’s latent magic?”

“Yes. It causes things like Spikey-Wikey’s adorable eye-hearts, or towns to abruptly burst into song. Twilight can probably explain it better than I can.”

“I see.”

As Marwolaeth turned back to Spike to shake him back to reality, he heard a noise emanating from outside. It was faint, but clearly supposed to be music. He looked out the window to look at the bare street.

“…Do you hear that?”

“Hear what, darling?”

“Music.”

“Hmm, now that you mention it, I do. It’s probably just some townspony who’s found a new love or some such.”

“Mm.”

Spike shook himself from his daze and took a deep breath. Orchestral music began to play, seemingly in the middle of a song, originating from nowhere. Spike began to sing about the woes of being seen as a child despite being old enough to be legally an adult. As the chorus faded away, Spike remained stock still.

“Oh dear. We’re caught up in a duet.”

“The other party, I am guessing, is what we’re hearing outside.”

“Quite likely.”

“Say, what happens if the song gets interrupted?”

“Well… I’m not sure. Nopony’s ever tried it before. I’m sure that there would be some sort of backlash from the unspent magic buildup.”

“Hm… An experiment for another time. Perhaps if another townspony has a song.”

“I suppose, but-” Rarity was cut off by another burst of music from Spike. Rarity was frozen in place as Spike began pirouetting between her legs, singing of his hidden love for her. Spike ended his song with his back to Rarity, behind her flank. Rarity began where she had left off. “-Why not this one? I know that Twilight would be interrupting the first song she could, if she could manage it.”

Marwolaeth narrowed his eyes at Rarity. “Did you… Not just hear all of that?”

“All of what, darling?”

“You just… froze and let Spike crawl all over you.”

“Ah, that. I must have become part of the song.” Rarity giggled. “Dear me, and I didn’t even notice!”

Marwolaeth looked out the windows once more to view the parade of prancing ponies gallivanting down the road, singing and dancing with Twilight in the lead, winging her way towards Rarity’s boutique. Spike picked up the tune and began climbing Marwolaeth’s leg as he did so. Even Rarity seemed to get caught up in the trend, and began lamenting Spike’s badly concealed crush, worrying for his feelings and wondering if she would begin to return them if Spike began to grow up.

The finale of the song began to play as Spike sat himself on Marwolaeth’s shoulders, curled around his helmet. Twilight burst into the shop, singing about brothers and sons and lovers. Rainbow Dash pressed herself against one of the boutique’s windows, muttering in tune about keeping Marwolaeth in line. Applejack danced past in the street, singing about her farm and protecting it from varmints, and how Marwolaeth could be the best thing to happen to the orchard since the vampire fruit bat reserve. Rarity pressed herself against Marwolaeth’s leg, questioning how she felt about Spike and his plans. Fluttershy followed Twilight into the boutique, echoing Twilight’s tune but in a more worried tone, fearing for herself if Spike grew to a full sized dragon. Outside, the entire town mirrored sections of Twilight’s lament.

The song reached a frenzied crescendo in a cacophony of strangely harmonic pitches and lyrics as all of the ponies gathered around Marwolaeth, singing about Spike and how they love him, no matter what he does, with Spike hugging Marwolaeth’s helmet and singing about how it is all for Rarity and Twilight and the ponies outside circling Carousel Boutique. As the song began to wind down, Pinkie Pie burst in from the back room of the shop and complained, in tune, about being left out and nopony telling her that there was a song happening.

The final note of the song sounded, and suddenly Marwolaeth was covered with six ponies and one dragon, all hugging him. Though, to be fair, Rainbow Dash looked more like she was attempting to put Marwolaeth’s arm in a headlock.

The group held their pose for a long minute, with Marwolaeth turning his head every which way, trying to make sense of the situation. Spike turned with him, attached as he was to his helmet.

Eventually the ponies disengaged, with everypony except Spike, Rarity and Twilight exiting the building and returning to their daily activities.

Twilight used her magic to pluck Spike from Marwolaeth’s shoulders and pulled him into a tender hug. “Oh Spike, don’t worry me like that.”

“I’m sorry, Twilight.” Spike sniffed. “I guess I should’ve talked to you before diving right in, huh?”

Twilight chuckled. “Yeah. I just… When Pydredd said that he’d told you how to grow… I was so afraid that I was going to lose you to your greed again.”

Spike ran his claws through Twilight’s mane. “It’s okay, Twilight. I know that you were just worried. And I was going to ask for your help to keep me in check.”

“I will, Spike. I’ll help you in any way that I can.”

Rarity sniffed, her eyes watering, a wavering smile hidden poorly behind a raised hoof as Twilight nuzzled Spike.

Marwolaeth stood back, arms folded, watching.

Twilight broke away from Spike and approached Marwolaeth, head hung low. “And… I’m sorry for exploding at you like I did.”

“Perfectly understandable. No harm done, except for some spilt tea.”

Twilight giggled. “Acceptable losses, I suppose.”

Marwolaeth nodded. “I must say, that was impressive.”

Twilight stared at Marwolaeth blankly. “What was?”

“The entire song and dance routine with the entire town.”

“Oh, yeah. That. I’ve always wanted to study the phenomenon, but I always get caught up in the Magic of Harmony and end up forgetting.”

“Interesting. I, myself, have become… intrigued by it as well. I’ve seen latent magical fields that directly influence planes before, but nothing on this scale. Perhaps I can assist you in your studies.”

Twilight rubbed a hoof against her chin. “Hm… It could work. We’d have to wait for another song to begin.”

“Of course. And any payment that I am to receive for this research is to go directly to Spike.”

“Uh… Okay? Why?”

“I have no use for money, and it will expedite his endeavors to grow.”

“I guess that makes sense. On that subject, I hope that you’ll assist in keeping Spike in line?”

“Of course. It was my idea, after all. I’m also the only one here that knows enough about dragons to properly moderate his hoard. Clearly, I need to talk to the dragon’s leadership on this plane.”

Twilight scoffed. “Good luck with that. The dragons don’t take kindly to strangers on their lands.”

“I don’t need luck.” Marwolaeth gestured to the veritable armoury that he carried on his person. “I have skill.”

“Be that as it may…” Rarity called. “If you are to be meeting with the ruling class- Dragons, ponies or otherwise- You’ll need something more appropriate than that armour.”

“No.”

“Oh, but darling, just think of how dashing you’d look in a nice suit!”

“The armour stays on.”

“Oh, tosh. You have to take the armour off sometime.”

“Perhaps, but not here, and certainly not in front of anypony.”

“While I admire your modesty, I must insist.”

“I will not take off the armour.”

“But Pydredd!” Rarity began whining. “You would be the first of your kind to present yourself to the nobles! If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me. I would be renowned as the first pony to design clothing for extra-equestrian beings!”

“No.”

Rarity pouted and fluttered her eyelashes. “Please?”

“No.”

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease!” Rarity grappled with Marwolaeth’s leg.

“No.”

Twilight and Spike watched the exchange with amusement. Rarity tried every trick in her book to try and get Marwolaeth out of his armour, but he stone-walled her attempts. Eventually, Twilight broke in.

“Um, perhaps you can compromise?”

Marwolaeth rubbed the front of his helmet with one hand. “Fine.”

“Yes!” Rarity crowed, levitating a length of measuring tape. “How about we leave the boots and helmet on, and put the rest of you in a suit?”

“No. Design something to go over the armour.”

“But-”

“None of the armour is coming off. I will not capitulate on this.”

Rarity huffed. “But surely-”

Marwolaeth cut Rarity off with a raised hand. “There is a saying that I like to use in situations like this. ‘I am an immovable object, and you are most certainly not an unstoppable force.’ You will not see me without armour, and that is something that you will have to come to terms with.”

Rarity grumbled underneath her breath. “Fine. But don’t think that this is over, Marwolaeth Pydredd.”

“Oh, I don’t think it’s over. I know it is.”

Rarity growled at Marwolaeth, but proceeded to take his measurements with his armour on. Rarity seemed to grow somewhat more frustrated as she realized that her usual revenge on an ornery customer, ‘accidently’ jabbing them with needles as she worked, would not work on Marwolaeth, due to his armour.

Marwolaeth watched Rarity levitate the armada of needles and bolts of fabric with interest. "Quite the skill for levitation."

"Tosh, it's nothing. Especially compared to Twilight."

"Nevertheless, that skill could be useful. Do you know how to defend yourself?"

"Well... A lady must always be ready to protect her virtue..."

"Good enough."

Finally, Rarity had the measurements taken down, and had pieces of muslin pinned in place in the shape of a vest and pants combination.

“There. Now, how do you want it coloured?”

“Surprise me.”

Rarity grinned. “Ooh, are you sure about that?”

“Keep in mind that if I do not approve, I will not wear it.”

Rarity scowled. “Hmph. Very well. I suppose that I shall put it somewhat low on my priority list. Give the ideas time to percolate, as it were.”

“Splendid. Twilight, Spike?”

Throughout the ordeal, Spike and Twilight had been brainstorming ideas on how to properly regulate Spike’s growth. They looked up as Marwolaeth approached.

“Yes?”

“Rarity is finished. Follow me.”

Twilight watched as Marwolaeth ducked under the doorframe. “Uh… Okay?” She set Spike on her back and followed Marwolaeth.

“You are a mage, correct?”

Twilight raised an eyebrow. “I… guess? I know a lot of spells, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Do you know any combat spells?”

“Uh… Not really. I can cast a basic shield and fire bursts of telekinetic force, but that’s basic magic taught to most unicorns.”

“I am going to return to Sweet Apple Acres. In the meantime, please learn some combat spells.”

“What? Why?”

“Pydredd’s gonna help us all learn how to defend ourselves!” Spike chimed. “He figured that he could rest easier if we could all keep ourselves safe so that he doesn’t have to keep everypony in one place so that he can watch us.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense, but… We don’t really need to defend ourselves, do we?”

“Celestia seems to think so. That’s why I’m here, after all.” Marwolaeth shrugged.

“I… guess I can read up on some of the more… dangerous spells.”

“Good. I will be at Sweet Apple Acres if you need me.”

Twilight nodded and Marwolaeth split off.

The next day passed by, with Marwolaeth alternating chores at the farm and practicing with his new scythe.

Applejack came to the barn early on the fourth day to see Marwolaeth standing in the middle of the floor, scythe assembled and held loosely in one hand and the farm’s old scythe sharpened and cleaned in the other.

“Today begins the first day of your training, Jack. I will take one suggestion, and one suggestion only. Do you want to learn the blade before or after the day’s chores?”

“Before. Gotta be fresh fer these kinda things, Ah reckon.”

“Good choice. Follow.”

Marwolaeth led Applejack to the clearing where he had set up the training dummies earlier in the week. Each pile of wood was notched and scratched, a testament to the amount of practice that they had been subjected to. Marwolaeth handed Applejack the farm scythe.

“As a quadruped, you have a natural advantage when using polearms, especially a unidirectional sweeping weapon such as the scythe. Use one hoof to hold the scythe, and brace the haft against your neck.”

Applejack did so, keeping the blade high behind her back.

“Good. Now, you can pivot the scythe around your neck to swing it, using your hooves to guide it. We’ll work on basic technique some other time. For now, safety and proper handling.”

Marwolaeth and Applejack spent the next hour going over the shift of weight in the scythe, where the sharp edges were, and the safest method of carrying the tool. When chore time rolled around, Marwolaeth decreed that they would rise much earlier in the following days so as to maximize the time that they had.

After chores, Applejack was eager to continue their lessons, but Marwolaeth declined, telling her to practice what he had already taught her. Marwolaeth fashioned a lightweight cover for the scythe’s blade out of foam, and told Applejack to always practice with the cover on, so as to avoid hurting herself and others.

After instructing Applejack on safety, Marwolaeth walked to town and made a beeline for a thin column of smoke that originated from Twilight’s library. He arrived to see that the yard behind the tree had several scorch marks and craters. Twilight was sitting in the middle of the yard, staring intently at a book held in her telekinetic grip.

“Practicing?” Marwolaeth asked, staying out of the blast zone.

“Yep.” Spike popped up from a window next to Marwolaeth. “She’s kept it quiet, but ponies are getting nervous.”

“Well, at least she’s trying. How’s the hoard coming along?”

“Pretty good, so far. Twilight said that she’d try a terraforming spell to hollow out one of the hills nearby for me to start my hoard in, ‘cuz we can’t build a house that big inside the town limits.”

“Good foresight. Cover the entrance of the cave with on large door so that you can still get in and out, and put a pony-sized door in the bottom of the big door.”

Spike put a claw to his chin. “Hmm… That’s a good idea. We were wondering about the draft that caves tend to get.”

“You’ll also want to put in at least one chimney chute in the roof. Dragons produce a lot of smoke, and you need some way for it to escape out of the top.”

“Right.” Spike began to write on a scroll that he had pulled out from under the window sill.

“Line the walls of your cave in bookshelves.”

“Um… Okay? Why?”

“You shouldn’t keep books lying in a pile. It’s bad for them and severely unorganized. You wouldn’t want to sleep on a pile of books, anyway.”

“That makes sense. Anything else?”

“Decorate the cave like you would a home, because that’s what it is. It’ll also make ponies who visit your library more comfortable.”

“Cool.”

A small explosion blew dirt onto Marwolaeth’s armour. “Blast-proof the ceiling and walls.”

“Good idea.”

“Fireproof everything.”

“Already had that one.”

“Keep your meat far away from the living area, preferably in an underground icebox.”

“Okay… Meat?”

“Did Sparkle not tell you? Dragons are omnivores, almost literally, but digest meat much more efficiently than plant matter.”

“…Oh.”

“Don’t worry. Fluttershy can supply you with meat until you learn how to hunt.”

“I… Okay. But what about gems?”

“Dragons’ version of candy.”

“Oh. But… what if I go crazy and try to eat a pony?”

“Unlikely. Dragons rarely go into a feeding frenzy because they rarely need to eat in the first place. They tend to avoid eating things that can talk back, anyway.”

“Oh. Whew. That’s a load off of my mind.”

“Glad to be of service.”

A spray of slush coated Marwolaeth and the window that Spike was looking out of. Marwolaeth wiped a section of the window off.

“That’s why I’m inside.”

“Duly noted. I can see that I am not needed to help here. Do you know where I can find Diane?”

“You mean Pinkie? She should be at Sugarcube Corner.”

“Thank you. Good day.”

Marwolaeth turned and walked into town, narrowly avoiding a stray lightning bolt from a flurry that Twilight had begun channeling. He nodded to Big Mac when he passed the Apple’s stall in the market. Pinkie Pie was standing outside of Sugarcube Corner, eyeing the passing ponies until she say Marwolaeth approaching.

“Ah ha!” Pinkie screeched. “I knew someone was coming to meet me!” She zipped up to Marwolaeth and began bouncing around him. “And I said someone because my twitches were similar to the ones for somepony’s gonna come meet me, but different enough to be someone that’s not a pony, and it’s you!”

“Twitches?”

“Yahuh!” Pinkie bobbed her head up and down rapidly. “I get these twitches that tell me the future! I call them my Pinkie Sense! Twitchy tail!” Pinkie suddenly shouted and dove underneath the nearest bench, as did all of the ponies in the vicinity.

Marwolaeth felt one of his eyebrows raising as Pinkie gestured wildly for him to get down. Suddenly something fell on his head, eliciting a high pitched gong from his helmet that rang in his ears. The offending object seemed to have split down the middle, and fell to the ground on both sides of him.

Marwolaeth looked down and saw two halves of a clay pot at his feet. As he looked down, the dirt and flower that they contained fell off of his head.

“Huh.”

Marwolaeth looked up to see a sheepish mare holding the shutters to her window.

“Sorry!” The pony called.

“No harm done.” Marwolaeth called back to the mare. He looked down to Pinkie, who was once again standing in front of him.

“Twitchy tail means that something’s gonna fall from the sky!”

“Precognitive tells. How do they work?”

“I’unno!”

“Magic it is.”

“That was fast! Twilight couldn’t believe it at first, and hooked me up to this neat-o machine, and followed me around a lot to try and figure it out, but even she couldn’t do it, and she’s one of the smartest ponies in the world! But my Pinkie Sense isn’t why you’re here, is it, Pink Cherry?”

“No, it is not. I came to ask you if you had any combat abilities.”

“Combat? Oh, you mean fighting! Well, sure! Back when I was a filly, my dad taught me how to keep those old petrified timberwolves away from our crop of rocks! I can shoot a slingshot, and a cannon, and a riffle, and my party cannon, and I can punch with the force of a thousand suns, or so my pappy tells me! Ooh, and I can move really quickly, but nopony knows how or why, and I always have a stash of everything just in case of an everything emergency! Cupcake?”

Marwolaeth took the proffered cupcake that had been pulled from Pinkie’s nest of a mane. “Cannons, huh?”

“Yepperooni!”

“Interesting. Mind showing me?”

“Well…” Pinkie elongated her l. “I would, but I’m only allowed to fire my party cannon inside the town. They think that I might hurt somepony if I use the big cannon within the limits of civilization.”

Marwolaeth nodded. “Understandable. Can you punch me?”

Pinkie scoffed. “Well of course I can, but why would I want to?”

“Perhaps you don’t, but I would like to experience for myself this punch that you have.”

“I dunno… Ponies usually don’t like being punched…”

“Well, I am no pony. Go ahead.” Marwolaeth spread his arms. “Punch my chest.”

“Well, alright, but only because you insist, and I’m not getting any ‘somepony’s gonna get hurt’ twitches.”

Pinkie reached into her mane and pulled out a set of angular sunglasses that she perched on her snout before jumping as far back as she could from Marwolaeth.

Pinkie took a steady stance and charged at Marwolaeth. Halfway across the street, she jumped, taking a bipedal stance, rearing a forehoof behind her head. She threw herself into a series of mid-air spins, all the while keening a throaty war cry.

With one final turn, Pinkie’s punching hoof connected with Marwolaeth’s breastplate.

A loud gong echoed through Ponyville, followed by a smash.

Silence reigned over the town. A cloud of dust settled over the smashed remains of a set of empty crates.

Pinkie walked up to the crates, a worried frown intruding upon her ever-present smile.

Suddenly, a gale of laughter erupted from the pile of boxes. One metallic hand shot up from the rubble, followed by a shoulder and head, as Marwolaeth sat up, shaking with laughter.

“Now that’s what I call a punch!” Marwolaeth wheezed.

“Goodness! Are you okay, Mister Pydredd?” Fluttershy trotted up to the wreckage, a bag of celery in her mouth and various other vegetables piled in her saddlebags.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Marwolaeth chuckled, standing up. A deep, hoof shaped indent was imprinted onto Marwolaeth’s chestplate with cracks running up and down the length of the piece of armour. “Ah, gonna have to fix that, later. Might keep the hoofprint, though.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Pinkie Pie asked, circling Marwolaeth, looking for more damage.

Marwolaeth waved her off. “Bah, I’ve had worse. That punch, however, was impressive. You’ll be fine.”

“Okay! I gotta get back to work, though. Bye, Fluttershy! Bye Portmanteau!” Pinkie waved to her two friends and pronked into Sugarcube Corner.

“My. I didn’t know that Pinkie could do that!”

“I guess she likes to keep it under wraps. But that punch…” Marwolaeth chuckled. “She won’t need my help.”

“Your help?”

“Ah, yes, I hadn’t gotten to you, yet. I’m making sure that all of my charges can defend themselves, so that I don’t have to be there to keep you safe.”

“Oh, that sounds… nice.”

“Indeed. It looks like I won’t have to worry about Pinkie, though.”

“No, she can take care of herself. So, um, you were going to ask me about my safety?”

“Right, right. Can you defend yourself?”

“Um… I guess. I really don’t like to fight, though… Um, usually when somecritter gets cranky and starts a fight, I usually let my bear friend, Garfunkel, split the fight up.”

“A bear, huh? …That’d work. Animal companions. I’ll still have to make sure that you can take care of yourself, but I can work on you last, since you should be safe enough with Garfunkel.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

Marwolaeth pulled himself to his feet and began walking towards Sweet Apple Acres. “Well, I must go ensure that Jack is alright. If you could make sure that Sparkle doesn’t destroy her library, I would be grateful.”

“Oh, sure. Good day, Mister Pydredd!”

On the trail to Sweet Apple Acres, Marwolaeth was once again accosted by Rainbow Dash, who crashed into his breastplate again. Marwolaeth braced himself lightly as she collided with his chest and slid off again.

“Ugh, I have to remember not to fly into you like that.” Rainbow Dash muttered, rubbing her head. She took her hoof away and saw it flecked with blood. When she looked at Marwolaeth’s chest, she could see where blood had begun to seep through the cracks inside of the hoofprint on Marwolaeth’s armour.

“Hah-ba-ba-guh-”

“Yes, Dash?”

“Y-You’re bleeding!”

“Am I?” Marwolaeth looked down at himself. “Huh. So I am. Eh, it’ll fix itself.”

“Are-Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just had Diane punch me as hard as she could.”

“You what?!” Rainbow Dash flew up into Marwolaeth’s face. “You had Pinkie Punch you? As hard as she could?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s… That’s stupid! She breaks rocks with punches like those! Splits boulders in two!”

“Well, it looks like I am tougher than boulders. You wanted something?”

“We gotta get you to the hospital! Oh man, oh man…” Rainbow Dash began pushing at Marwolaeth’s back, trying to turn him around.

Marwolaeth didn’t move. “No need for the hospital. It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fixing it up later tonight.”

“I just- I don’t- Can you at least cover it up?” Rainbow Dash shouted.

“If you’re queasy around blood, just turn the other way.”

“I just- Can’t you- Oh, Celestia it’s in my hair, isn’t it?” Rainbow Dash zoomed into Sweet Apple Acres yelling for Applejack to lend her the shower.

Marwolaeth shook his head and headed for his training clearing, where he knelt by the pond and removed the front of his breastplate. He set it to one side and began to clean his wound with water.

It was exactly as he had said, a scratch from where a sliver of metal had poked through his leather underarmour and broken his skin. He found the errant spike of metal and gently bent it back into place before pouring water onto the breastplate to wash the blood away.

He had cleaned himself and was about to begin sealing the cracks when he heard a pony crashing through the orchard towards him.

“Pydredd! Pydredd, are y’all okay?” He heard Applejack shout, as she broke into the clearing.

“I’m fine. Dash sent you?” Marwolaeth stood up and turned to Applejack.

“Yeah, she said y’all were bleedin’!”

“It was just a scratch.”

“Oh.” Applejack sighed. “Guess Dash kinda overreacted, huh?”

“Just a little. She seems a bit queasy about blood.”

Applejack chuckled. “Yeah, never did like it. Say, Pydredd, you left your armour off.”

“So I did.”

“Is that what your skin looks like?”

“No. This is a secondary set of armour to prevent chafing, made out of leather.”

“Leather? As in…”

“The tanned and cured skin of a dead animal, yes.”

“Huh.” Applejack grunted before falling onto the ground in a dead faint.

Marwolaeth sighed and shook his head. “These ponies are all much too sensitive.”

Applejack slowly opened her eyes to the comforting sound of wind rustling the leaves of the apple trees. She seemed sluggish and at peace for the moment. And then Marwolaeth snapped his fingers in her face.

“Jack. Wake up.”

Applejack sucked in a long gasp and scuttled her way to a sitting position with her back against a tree.

“Y-Y’all keep to yerself, y’hear?” Applejack pointed a shaking hoof at Marwolaeth. “Ya- Ya jus’ leave mah cows alone!”

Marwolaeth scratched his head. “Cows? What would I need a cow for?”

“Ya- Y’all’re a carnivore! Yer gonna kill ‘em an’ eat ‘em an’ wear their skins!”

Marwolaeth let out a throaty sigh and covered his faceplate with his hand. “Jack, I am not going to eat and/or wear your cattle. If you’ll recall, I am bound to obey a prohibition on killing.”

“Y-” Applejack gulped and put her hoof down. “Yer not gonna eat ‘em? But you wear their skins!”

“Yes I do. Because it is comfortable, durable, and flexible. I would further point out that I myself did not kill the animals used to make my armour, merely bought their pre-killed and treated skins.”

“Oh… Ah’m sorry, Pyddred, Ah’m bein’ foalish, ain’t Ah?”

“Yes you are. But that is understandable, considering your herbivorous, prey animal biology and peaceful culture.”

“Ah guess… It’s just… Ya seem ta do a lot o’ killin’.”

“That is my primary use, yes.”

Applejack chuckled sourly. “Cain’t imagine why Celestia hired ya, if’n that’s what y’all do.”

“I have my suspicions. They involve the training that I am giving you. Speaking of, let us return to the house. I must speak with Dash.”

“A’right.”

At the farmhouse, Marwolaeth heard Rainbow Dash shivering underneath the nozzle of a hose. She glanced up at the behemoth as he approached and began to turn her head before she shook it and took a closer look at his chest.

“Uh… What happened to your chest? It was all broken and…” Rainbow Dash shuddered. “Bloody.”

“Say, she’s got a point. Yer armour’s all fixed. When’d that happen?”

“While you were unconscious. Was simple enough to fix.”

“Really, how long was Ah out?”

“Few seconds.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What’d you do to conk AJ out?”

“I wear leather underneath my armour.”

“Oh… Dude, that’s sick.”

“So I’ve been told. You had something to say before you flew off?”

“Uh… Oh, right. Pinkie told me that you were evaluating us all, and I was gonna get the drop on you and show you my stuff.”

“I see. Well then. Show me your stuff.”

“Right. Try to keep up!”

Rainbow Dash reared up onto her hind legs, using her wings to keep her balance, and began to throw jabs with her forehooves.

“Stop right there.”

“Hah, intimidated ya, huh?”

“Hardly. If you are going to demonstrate your skills, actually use them. Hit me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I survived Pie’s punch that, as I’m told, ‘splits boulders,’ with ‘the power of a thousand suns.’ I think I can handle some normal punches.”

“Uh… Alright.”

Rainbow Dash once again reared onto her hind hooves and began dancing around Marwolaeth, peppering him with rapid kicks with her forehooves that sounded tinny rings when they landed, interspersed with flurries of kicks from her hind legs as she spun in the air. She finished with a mighty overhead chop that rung against Marwolaeth’s helmet with a loud, hollow gong.

“Well? How was that?”

“Pitiable.”

“What? Say that to my face!” Rainbow Dash flew up to peer between the slits in Marwolaeth’s helmet.

“That show was just that. A show. You will not defeat an opponent with soft taps like those.”

“Yeah, well I was going easy on ya!”

“Try again, then. And don’t hold back.”

Rainbow Dash growled. “You asked for it.”

The next few minutes were spent with Applejack’s ears covered and Winona howling in the distance as Rainbow Dash elicited a high pitched humming from Marwolaeth’s armour, the sounds of the individual strikes landing melding together as she worked her way around and up until at last she sounded the final gong from Marwolaeth’s helmet.

“Heh…” Rainbow Dash panted. “How was that, ya big grump?”

“Better. You almost managed to dent my armour. Work on your stamina.”

“Oh come on!” Rainbow Dash moaned. “There’s just no pleasing you, is there?”

“Yes there is. Pie managed to do it.” Marwolaeth gestured to the hoof shaped indent in his chest.

“Pinkie, huh?” Rainbow Dash murmured, rubbing her chin.

“Indeed. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must instruct Jack in the proper use of a scythe.”

“Ahuh, I’ll let you get right on that.” Rainbow Dash started, as she flew away, ending up yelling from the air.

And so the days went, with Marwolaeth dividing his time between farm chores, teaching Applejack how to fight with a scythe, helping Spike plan his library, and overseeing any gathering that his charges put together.

While chaperoning one such lunch, Marwolaeth tracked six feathered bolts as they fell from the sky and landed on the street next to him.

His eye quickly picked out the important details: Chainmail, swords, claws, beaks.

"Trouble." He muttered to himself.

Chapter 6: He Who Fights Monsters

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Marwolaeth was perplexed.

Not by the griffons and their armaments, no. But by what their leader was doing.

Smirking.

Marwolaeth had seen a lot of things in his time, but he had never seen a break of nature so profound as a bird of prey with a pliable beak, let alone one malleable enough to smirk with. His incredulity increased twofold as the griffon began to speak, her beak forming sounds he had previously assumed only possible with lips.

Marwolaeth was so enraptured that he almost missed what the griffon was saying.

“Zo.” The griffon began, her voice oily and heavily accented. “Zis is de infamous Ma’volaeth Pydredd.” She dropped his r’s to the back of her throat, almost reminiscent of a purr or a growl. “Vord upon ze grapevine is zat you ‘ave de audacity to vear leather among ze ponies.”

“That is I.” Marwolaeth affirmed, watching out of the corner of his eye as his charges shrunk back in their chairs.

“I alzo ‘ave heard zat you are… violent.” The griffon’s smirk grew.

“Only to the enemies of my charges and their allies.”

“Of course, of course. I merely ‘ad a… business venture to discuss vith you.”

“No.”

The griffon looked shocked. “Vat? Do you know who I am?”

“No.”

The griffon grunted and smoothed the feathers on her chest. “I zhould 'ave known. Reports are zat you are new to civilized lands… As civilized as Eqvestria gets, anyvay.” She stood straight and adopted a haughty pose. “I am Princess Vanni Ironclaw, daughteyr of King Vanni Longrule and ambassador to Eqvestria on behalf of the Griffon Kingdom.”

“Charmed, I’m sure. You seem to know of me already.”

“Yes, vell, one can hardly be a new species and not be news to every kingdom. Now, as I said, I ‘ave a business proposition for you, Mister Ma’volaeth”

“First, call me Pydredd. Second, if you wish to negotiate for my services, talk to Celestia.”

“Ah, but Mister Pydredd, ze Princess is so busy. Surely, you can talk vith me.”

“I am already talking with you.”

Ironclaw chuckled darkly. “Ah, Mister Pydredd, I sink you misunderstand. I vish to acquire your services. Specifically, your services in my bedchamber. Come. Valk vith uz.”

“No.”

“Perhaps you still don’t know who you are dealing vith here, Ma’volaeth.”

“Pydredd.”

“I vill call you as I please.” Ironclaw snapped. “I am ze princess! Ven I vant something, I get it. Now come along, Ma’volaeth.”

“You and your station hold no power over me. I will go where I please.”

“Aw, zat’s cute. You sink you have a choice. Guards. Bring him to my ‘otel room.”

Marwolaeth stood up and stepped over the small fence separating the restaurant from the street as two of the griffons stepped forward and began circling Marwolaeth. Before they could go a few steps, Marwolaeth stepped forward and grabbed both griffons by the feathers of their heads and slammed them together, dazing them.

Ironclaw looked at their dazed forms with shock before recovering quickly. “Assault of ze royal guard? Ze reports did not paint you as ztupid, Ma’volaeth. Fine zen. If you will not come qvietly…”

Marwolaeth moved his hand to the haft of his compressed scythe. “Jack, pay attention. You might learn something.”

“Subdue ‘im.”

All of the griffons leapt at Marwolaeth, who flicked his scythe into its shape and kept it at his side. When the griffons came within range, the staff of the weapon was put to use, whirling and waving, dealing punishment where it landed. The blade did not go unnoticed either, landing superficial scratches and cutting the tips of feathers as it flew.

Ironclaw scoffed. “Bah. Useless ‘atchlings. I vill get ‘im myself.” She waded into the melee, heedless of the flying bodies of her guards, until she could almost touch Marwolaeth’s shin.

Thwak.

Ironclaw backed away from the melee, which came to a halt to watch her stagger. One claw was pressed against her cheek, and when she pulled it away, a small scratch that hardly bled could be seen underneath her feathers, a soft bruise already forming on her skin.

“You… You dare mark ze face of ze future Qveen?! Guards! Execute zis creature for its insolence!”

The crowd of ponies that had begun to form gasped.

Marwolaeth cracked his knuckles. “This is where the kid gloves come off.”

The griffons leapt upon Marwolaeth in a whirl of feathers and steel. The observing ponies could hardly follow the action until three of the five griffons had fallen. They watched as Marwolaeth detached the wings and one of the legs of the final guards, and finished the arc of his scythe by removing Ironclaw’s right arm.

The final guard, missing an arm and a leg with the top half of his beak hacked away squawked as Marwolaeth turned to him, and fled.

Ironclaw choked out a gasp and started to chuckle. “You- You sink you can ‘arm me?!” Ironclaw screamed, holding the stump of her arm, laughing maniacally. “You could ‘ave ‘ad wealth and power! I gave you a chance! Now… Now…” Her cackling reached a crescendo. “If I cannot ‘ave you, then none can! You vill die! Zere will be var! YOU VILL PAY!” Ironclaw took to the air, laughing maniacally as she went.

Marwolaeth turned to the royal guards that had gathered in the crowd. “If you could detain these griffons and give them medical treatment?”

The guards hesitantly nodded and silently carried the mutilated griffons away.

Marwolaeth stepped back over the fence and sat at the table that the Elements of Harmony occupied. He surveyed his charges. They all looked pale, and Rainbow Dash was lying in a pool of her own vomit.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad. Sparkle, if you could send a report to Celestia warning her of the incoming summons to war?”

“I-I-I-”

“On second thought, I’ll do it myself.”

Marwolaeth picked up a napkin from the table and plucked one of the feathers shed by Twilight Sparkle from the ground and dipped it into a pool of the blood that had begun seeping under the fence. He wrote a quick summary of the events in griffon blood and rolled the napkin up. When he looked down the street, he saw a cadre of royal guards coming his way. He flagged them down.

“Marwolaeth Pydredd, we are-”

“Save it, Gearbox. Guard the Elements of Harmony with your life. I’m going to Canterlot.”

“I- Oh.” Gearbox turned to the other stallions that he had brought along and began ordering a perimeter.

Meanwhile, Marwolaeth stalked to Twilight’s library.

“Spike! I have a letter to send to Celestia!” Marwolaeth yelled as he ducked through the doorway.

“Oh, sure thing dude, what’s it- Are you covered in blood?”

“Yes I am. Send the letter, and you can lick it clean.”

“Just like the batter spoon…” Spike murmured dreamily, huffing a jet of green flames onto the napkin in Marwolaeth’s outstretched hand.

Spike had nearly finished giving Marwolaeth’s armour a tongue bath when his cheeks bulged and he burped out a letter. Marwolaeth read it as Spike finished lapping the blood from the metal. It was exactly as he had expected: A summons to Canterlot.

“Go find Sparkle, Spike. I’m going to Canterlot.”

“Mmhmhmhmhuh?” Spike giggled euphorically.

“Sparkle. Protect. Bad griffons.”

“Mmkay…” Spike stumbled off into town, bumping into things he’d normally walk under.

“Hmm. Growing faster than I’d have thought.”

Gearbox rejoined Marwolaeth at the train station. The wait and subsequent train ride were spent in silence. Even the walk to Canterlot Castle was somewhat subdued, the ponies subconsciously smelling the lingering stench of blood on his armour and avoiding him.

Finally, Marwolaeth was brought in front of the Princess Celestia in a private meeting room. She regarded him with a cold glare.

“Do you have any idea of what you’ve done today?” Celestia growled.

“Maimed seven foreign dignitaries, caused a diplomatic incident, instigated a war, and earned the personal enmity of a king.”

Celestia snorted. “At least you know what the consequences of your actions are. Your… ‘Letter’ was somewhat vague, and I was distracted by the fact that it was written in the blood that you’d spilled. Explain what happened.”

“It happened exactly as I wrote. Ironclaw propositioned me, didn’t take no for an answer, and assumed that her diplomatic immunity would protect her from assault and rape charges. When I resisted her guards and herself, she ordered me executed. That’s when the blood started to flow. Then she flew off cackling like the witch that she is.”

Celestia sighed and sat on the floor, a hoof covering her face. “While I disagree with your… methods, I do believe that you were in the right for this situation.”

“I’m glad that we agree.”

“However, that does not change the fact that the griffons have issued an ultimatum. Your death or war.”

“Mm. Neither is a good choice.”

“No indeed. I’ve been able to secure a compromise. We can either send them your head on a platter…”

“Inadvisable.”

“Or send you to be given a warrior’s execution.”

“Intriguing. Explain.”

“The griffons have a tradition that, if a convict is a mass murderer, military member or resisted arrest heavily, they can be thrown into a coliseum to fight until they die. They start with natural predators, such as wolves and lions, and move upwards to the magical creatures, manticores being among that lot. If they can survive all of their trials, then they will be acquitted and set free. Rumour has it, though, that they have a dragon on payroll to clean up if the victim survives all of their challenges, but none have gotten that far in centuries.”

“And the other option, war, would bring danger to my charges.” Marwolaeth harrumphed. “I will go for the warrior’s execution. When they let me leave after I slay their dragon, I will send a courier. If they do not let me leave, prepare for a notice about the destruction of a kingdom.”

“I will… keep that in mind. I will send you with a map and supplies for the journey, and two days to get your affairs in order.”

“No affairs to order. Make sure that my charges are well guarded. I will not stand for them coming to harm because of your inability to explain circumstances.”

“My what?”

“It’s either that, or the griffons have absolutely no care about the deific wrath that they have called upon themselves. Either way, they will endanger my charges unless I appease them, and the choice left to me is to do it alone, under circumstances beyond my control. If they are harmed, it will not be my fault, and in no way voids my contract.”

“No… I suppose your contract was clear enough in that regard. Twilight and her friends will be lodged here at the castle until you return, and put under heavy guard. You leave in the morning.”

“Good. I am to assume that I will have guards to ensure that I do not flee?”

“The griffon embassy has been kind enough to lend a few of their personal soldiers to accompany you.”

“Very well. Good evening for now, then, Princess.”

“Rest well, Pydredd.”

Gearbox led Marwolaeth through corridors and hallways, passing many a noble and servant, before arriving at the room that been designated as his for the night.

Marwolaeth dismissed Gearbox with a wave and place his hand against the door to push it open, but paused. He balled one of his fists, igniting the arcane lines on his arm, and launched through the door, his arm thrusting forward towards an indistinct shape within the shadows of his room.

What he found in his hand was the snout of a very surprised alicorn.

“Hello?”

“Er... Greetings Pydredd! Is this how thy people greet one another?” The dark blue alicorn placed a hoof on Marwolaeth's faceplate. "Curious indeed."

"Luna, I presume."

"'Tis I. We are quite pleased to finally make thine acquaintance."

"I suppose. Do you always wait in a new guest's room in order to meet them?"

"Nay, fair Pydredd. ’Twas merely a... An act of desperation, for lack of a better term. Thou hath proven most elusive."

"I have?"

"Aye. 'Tis most unhealthy to abstain from sleep as thou seem to."

"I have been sleeping most nights. Who had told you that I had not been sleeping?"

"Well, we have observed no new dreams from Ponyville. As guardian of the dream time, we made it our duty to ensure restful sleep for all of our subjects."

"Perhaps one reason that you haven't seen me dreaming is that I am not one of your subjects.”

“Bah, ‘twas an overarching term. We see all dreams in the realm.”

“You were probably stymied by the wards placed around my mind by my master.”

Luna put a hoof to her snout. “Hmm, that may very well be. Our sister has told us of thine immunity to afflictions and curses of the mind, but had neglected to tell us how thou accomplished such a feat.”

“Then it seems your question was answered.”

“Aye. Regardless, it has been far too long since thou hath arrived and we have been unable to properly greet thee. Thus we are here to say: Greetings, Marwolaeth Pydredd!”

“…Right.”

Luna waited expectantly for Marwolaeth to continue. When he did not she coughed. “Er, the proper method of reciprocating a greeting in Equestria, Sir Pydredd, is to echo the greeting and inquire as to the health of thy new friend.”

“I know how to converse, thank you.”

“Oh. Well of course. We were merely were ensuring that thee hath proper social skills.”

“I have them, though they are some of my skills I use less often.”

Luna nodded. “Oh aye. We know the feeling. ‘Twas not until recently that ‘twas the same for us, until Sister recommended that we attempt to gather a set of friends.”

“Am I to assume, then, that you would like me to join in this set?”

“That would be most enjoyable, yes! From what we have heard, thou seem to be of our sort. Brave and fierce! Loyal and honourable! And, if we have heard correctly, just the right amount of nuisance to be of the enjoyable sort! Thou are a sight more interesting than the rest of those pansy nobles already.”

“I see.”

“And, if we are to be honest… We are told that thou are well versed in the ways of the sword. It has been so long since we have had a proper match in the sparring arena!”

“Now you’re talking my language.”

Luna looked puzzled. “…Have we not been speaking in Equestrian? Curses, and we were so sure that we’d finally kicked old Hasbrian.”

“It is a metaphor.”

“Oh. Ah! We see, thou meant that we were broaching a familiar topic! Ha! Yes, Sister has been updating us on our colloquialisms. Shall we engage in friendly combat, good Sir Pydredd?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Huzzah! Come, this way!”

Luna lead Marwolaeth from his room, through many of the halls that he had just traversed, and finally out into a dusty square surrounded by squat buildings. The barracks, Marwolaeth assumed.

Luna, meanwhile, had been lecturing Marwolaeth on proper sparring equipment, which ranged from padding and wooden sticks to full armour and magically dulled weapons. Marwolaeth had opted to fight fully armed.

As he entered the sparring area, he felt Luna’s magic twine around each of his bladed weapons, creating a pocket of force that would stop the cutting edge from contacting his opponent while still solid enough to feel if a hit had been landed.

“Now, Marwolaeth. Sister has us understanding that thou hath many years of practice. Tell us, how large of a handicap dost thou desire?”

Marwolaeth smirked under his helmet. He knew this kind of banter well. “I’ll fight with one arm behind my back. Should make things a tad more even.”

Luna barked a laugh. “Truly, thy generosity knows no bounds! Of course, it would only be prudent if we responded in kind by forgoing the use of our left wing!”

Marwolaeth tsk’d. “Now, Luna. If you do that, I might just have to forgo the use of weapons entirely."

Luna was taken aback for a moment. “Thou truly intend to commit thine own limbs to the tussle? Magnificent.” Her eyes gleamed. “Very well. If thou seek to narrow thy capabilities, we shall also be content with merely one weapon. And lo, we will wield it in our mouth!”

“Subpar wielding techniques? Why, Luna, you hurt me. Very well, I shall respond in kind and forgo the use of my arms altogether.”

Luna began to look unsure of herself. “Uh… In that case, we will make use of only the most basic of combat magic!"

“And here I thought that I’d give you the home advantage of ranged support. Might as well just use one leg to hit you with and my other to move.”

“We… Can…”

“Oh just fight already!” Somepony shouted. Marwolaeth turned in the direction that the shout had come from quickly enough to witness a stallion being pulled under a windowsill while every other window had pairs of eyes peeking over the edges.

“Heh. Very well, Luna. Can’t keep the audience waiting, can we?”

Luna chuckled. “No indeed. Have at thee!”

Luna gripped a two ended, thick blade between her teeth that seemed to be some sort of claymore that had another blade replacing its pommel and charged at Marwolaeth.

Marwolaeth grinned, gripping his hands behind his back, his arms softly glowing with luminescent green lines. He kicked one foot out in front of him and began to bounce on the ball of his stable foot.

"'Ou 'oog ‘egigulu, ‘ygegg!” Luna laughed around the handle of her blade.

“You sound ridiculous yourself, Luna. Come on then!”

So began a clash that every guardspony that was present began to call the clash of the titans.

The guards watching could scarcely believe what they were seeing. Even Luna herself, who could feel the bruising blows, doubted the reality of the situation.

Marwolaeth, using one foot to send him flying forward or sideways and the other to send Luna lurching to the sides in pain, was more than a match the old princess. He had, at first, cut a comical figure with a ridiculous notion, but now was revealed the monster lurking just below the surface.

Luna skidded from another blow and stood panting.

Marwolaeth cackled, his helmet magnifying the sound into an ominous boom. “Now wasn’t that a good warm up? Time to kick it up a notch."

One of the surrounding guards chuckled loudly.

Marwolaeth leapt at Luna and sent a kick flying at her muzzle, the first aimed at a delicate area. Luna responded by deflecting the blow with a small shield and swung her sword, denting one of Marwolaeth's pauldrons.

Blow for blow, Luna began to trade nicks and bruises for dents and dings. Luna's patience began to wear thin, however, and knocked Marwolaeth back with a burst of magic.

"Th'rs et! Nr m're m'ss n'ce p'rncess!" Luna roared around the handle of her broadsword.

Luna's eyes became shrouded with light as the shadows slithered from their places and wrapped themselves around Luna's body. With a shout, the shadows exploded outward to reveal a deep blue and black set of barding.

"Ha! And it wasn't even a combat spell!" Luna laughed, setting her blade on its point for a moment. "What will you do now, knave?"

Marwolaeth responded by leaping into the air. "Raise the stakes even higher."

The same guard chuckled again.

Luna smirked and began to launch small balls of magic at Marwolath, who deftly twisted as he fell to dodge.

When Marwolaeth fell into range, Luna threw up a shield dome. The airborne warrior somersaulted in the air and dropped his aggressive heel into Luna's shield. Marwolaeth's arms lost their arcane lines, and Luna suddenly felt the full weight of Marwolaeth and his armour bearing down on her.

Luna dropped her shield and batted Marwolaeth with her wing. As he fell, Luna body checked his leg, knocking him off balance. Finally, when he was in range, Luma whipped her broadsword around and sent Mareolaeth skidding with the force of her blow.

Without missing a beat, Marwolaeth rolled into a stand and skidded to a stop on one foot.

Luna was panting heavily and watching Marwolaeth with a wary eye.

"Well? I've kept you on the defensive this whole time. Your turn."

Marwolaeth watched a look of resignation wash over Luna’s features as she sagged into a sitting position, letting her armour fade away.

“We… We yield… Good… Good Sir Pydredd.”

Marwolaeth bowed to Luna and set about removing the dings in his armour with a soft application of magic.

Luna groaned upon seeing this. “All of… All of that and you could… still use magic?”

“Was going to break that out if you lasted too long.”

Luna chuckled breathlessly, slowly running streams of magic down her body to erase her bruises. “Where were you… two thousand years ago…?”

“I forget. Ask Celestia or my master.”

“We certainly will do that… You have intrigued us, Sir Pydredd. I do hope that we will see more of each other soon.”

“I as well. You’re the first actual challenge that I’ve faced on this plane.”

Luna barked out a laugh. “Yes, Sister has let this kingdom grow soft. Heh, nothing in the past millennium and a half has been able to best us in fair combat, though nothing has challenged us to single combat in that time. We must be out of practice."

Luna escorted Marwolaeth slowly back to his room, regaling him with tales of old that he had already heard from Shield Line, but with the perspective of a pony that had been there. She bade him goodnight at his door and took her leave shortly after.

Marwolaeth could hear her leaning against his door panting before she trotted away.

For the remainder of the night, Marwolaeth slept. He awoke in the morning to the sound of claws on tile, and a knock on his door. He opened his door to greet the two griffons outside his door who regarded him with disgust.

“Marwolaeth Pydredd. We are to escort you to High Peak Castle in the Lonely City of the kingdom of Cloudedge. I am Beaker and this is Spearhaft.”

“A pleasure. Let us go.”

Beaker held up a claw. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. Had you not shown yourself capable of dispatching an entire squad of the elite royal guards and had I not witnessed you effortlessly conquer Princess Luna, we would gut you here ourselves.”

“At least you have common sense.”

The griffons snorted and turned, leading Marwolaeth out of the castle. Celestia met him at the castle gate and handed him a scroll of paper.

“Here, this is your map to the griffon kingdoms. You will be going to the port city of Shell Beach and taking a ship to the griffon city of Marked Hearth. From there, you’ll travel through the valleys to Pale Fly, where you’ll have an airship waiting to take you to the Lonely City.”

“My thanks, Celestia. Tell your sister that I look forward to my return so that I might spar with her again.”

Celestia grimaced. “Yes, I heard about that. Perhaps next time she will bend her pride enough to take your handicaps with grace.”

“Perhaps.”

“One last thing. Princess Twilight Sparkle and the Elements of Harmony will be meeting you at the train station to see you off.”

“Splendid. Be well, be safe, Celestia.”

“And you as well, Marwolaeth Pydredd.”

Marwolaeth and the two griffons stalked through the sparsely populated streets of Canterlot. What ponies they did see shrunk at the sight of Marwolaeth and gave him as wide a berth as possible.

“Rumour seems to spread quickly here.”

Beaker grunted.

At the train station, Twilight Sparkle and her friends were waiting on an empty platform with Garfunkel, Fluttershy’s bear, sitting against a nearby wall. The ponies all seemed shaken, but otherwise healthy. Twilight stepped forward.

“W-Well Pydredd. The train will be here soon. We all just wanted to say good bye.”

Marwolaeth snorted. “Hardly good bye. Merely a short see you later.”

Rainbow Dash shook her head. “You don’t understand. An old friend, Gilda…” The ponies flinched at the name. “Used to tell me about the Warrior’s Execution. Nopony, griffon or otherwise, has ever come out alive.”

“There’s always a first time for everything. I’m sure that if I could best what amounts to a deity on this plane at swordplay with one foot and both arms tied behind my back, a few creatures will pose little to no problem.”

Marwolaeth’s ponies blinked. Rarity stuttered out of her stupor first. “Y-Y-Y-You what?”

“Luna challenged me to a spar. I bested her with no magic, one foot and no arms.”

Twilight gulped. “B-But Luna was documented as the scourge of any battlefield she graced! Nothing has bested her in one on one combat in millennia!”

“Well, now nothing has since yesterday. Go talk to her about it, I’m sure you’ll be able to glean some sort of cultural significance from my hobbled and unorthodox fighting style.”

Twilight glared at Marwolaeth. “No need to be rude. Still…” She mumbled. “Worth a shot.”

“That’s the spirit. Dash, maybe you can learn her fighting style and Pie, you can learn how to punch with the force of ten thousand moons. And Sparkle, perhaps she can show you few less modern, lesser known combat spells.”

“U-Um…”

“And keep practicing while I’m away. Might as well use Luna as a training partner.”

“Well, Ah guess…”

“Wonderful. Jack, perhaps learn a few different weapons from the guards. Rarity, now is the time to learn some basic combat spells and Shy…” Marwolaeth looked at Garfunkel. “Keep the bear around.”

“R-Right.”

A cough from above drew every pair of eyes to a uniformed Pegasus pony. “Uh, sorry to interrupt, Mister Pydredd, but we’re afraid that we won’t be able to take you to Shell Beach. Our train has… Well, her engine exploded and her corpse is blocking the railway.”

“Unfortunate.”

“Gonna back out, Pydredd?” Shearhaft sneered.

“Hardly. I hope you gentlemen aren’t afraid of walking.”

Beaker huffed. “We’ll be fine.”

Twilight muttered some things to herself before looking up. “By train, the trip to Shell Beach is only a day long. Walking, that’d take more than a week!”

“Well then we had better get moving.”

Pinkie Pie jumped. “But- But what about food?”

“I hunt. They both hunt. We can carry plenty of water. We’ll be fine.”

“Your armour might get damaged!” Rarity cried.

“Fixable by magic.”

“One of you might get hurt!” Fluttershy protested.

“Again, magic.”

Rarity moaned. “Ugh, fine, here.” She levitated a thick coat of blues and golds crossed with lengths of chain and fields of purple. “I had been saving this for tomorrow, but seeing as you won’t be here tomorrow, I may as well give you your new coat now.”

Marwolaeth took the coat and ran it between his fingers before slinging it around his shoulders. The coat fell down to his thighs and rose in the back so that he could still easily access the legion of weapons strapped to his back.

“A fine example of your craft, Rarity. My thanks.”

“Yes, well, it was hardly fulfilling. My word, it was simply a sheet of cloth with some arm holes cut out! I had to get creative with the trim and the designs to even begin sewing it!”

“All the same, it is very nice.”

“As soon as we heard that you were going to face the Warrior’s Execution,” Twilight said. “Rarity gave the coat to me to enchant. I’ve made it impervious to tearing, piercing, and flame, and warded it so that its wearer will never be cold!”

Marwolaeth stared down at Twilight. “…Why?”

“Why? Well, we wanted to make sure that you were properly protected against th-”

Marwolaeth banged a fist against his breastplate, eliciting a low gong.

“…Oh. Right. Armour.”

“I appreciate the sentiment. If anything, the enchantments will keep the coat intact through my journey.”

“Well, at least we have that.”

“That’s all well and good.” Spearhaft interrupted. “But can we get going? We won’t make it to Shell Beach any sooner if we never leave Canterlot!”

Marwolaeth nodded. “Of course. Girls, Garfunkel. Take care. Stay safe, stay healthy.”

“Finally.” Beaker grumbled as Marwolaeth led them out of the terminal and onto the road to the East.

“Indeed. Off we go, gentlemen.”

“Gentle what?” Spearhaft scratched his head.

“I think it means gentlegriffs.”

“Oh. Well why didn’t it just say so?”

“Well, it’s near as we can get to an intelligent monster. We can hardly expect it to speak properly.”

“Heh, yeah.”

Marwolaeth smirked underneath his helmet. Finally, here was the attitude that he was used to dealing with. The fear and disgust. Perhaps the griffon kingdoms would be a welcome reprieve from the dull harmony of Equestria.

“So, gentlegriffs.”

“What do you want?”

“Care to tell me a bit of the history of the griffon kingdoms?”

“We ain’t telling you nothing.” Spearhaft spat.

“Aren’t telling him anything.” Beaker muttered under his breath, nudging Spearhaft’s side.

“Aw shut up.”

Marwolaeth chuckled.

A welcome reprieve indeed.

Interlude 1: When the Man is Away, Discord will Play, or: As She Wants It To Be

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"Ah... Ah cain't trayne with y'alls anymore, Pyd'ed" Applejack exclaimed in her horribly butchered accent.

Marmalade raised one of his eyebrows, unseen through his helmet. "And why not?" He asked.

Applejack doffed her cowpony hat and pressed it to her barrel. "Ah... Whenevah y'all get neah me, Ah get these... urges. Ah just cain't help mahself!" The orange pony sniffled.

Marvalegait crossed his arms, preparing to spew another piece of obvious wisdom. "That is okay." The shining knight said. "Just let the urges out, Jack. Let them guide you. Instinct is the basest of all intelligence after all." He nodded.

Applejack nodded once before she jumped up and mashed her mouth against Marvlemate's faceplate. After a few seconds of feeling no reception from the cold and unfeeling metal, the lithe apple bucker backed off, looking sheepish.

"A-Ah'm sahrry, Ah ovarstepped mah place. Ah'll jus' go an' exahle mahself from y'alls." Applejack turned to leave, hot tears sliding deliciously down her face.

"Wait, Jack." Mamalamadingdong put a hand on Applejack's finely toned flank. "Do not jump to conclusions. After all..." Marwolaeth's face took on his lecturing pose underneath his helmet. "The cold metal of my armor cannot kiss you back like I would like to."

Applejack's lime green eyes lit up in ecstasy as Marwololo removed his helmet and leaned down to embrace her lips, one hand resting lightly on the curve of the Apple mare's jaw. After a few seconds, they pulled apart, breathing heavily. The pony's inexperienced eyes travelled downwards as she heard a sharp ping noise originating from-

"What're you writing?" Fluttershy asked, trotting up to the typewriter.

I slammed the typewriter shut like a book, hiding my work from Fluttershy, my first true friend. "Oh, ah, nothing, dearest Fluttershy. Merely some light musings."

"Ooh, that sounds interesting." Fluttershy cooed. "I've always wanted to know what you might be thinking. Do you mind if I take a peek?"

"Erm, well, I don't think-" Fluttershy was using the doe eyes on me. I took a look into those shining, hopeful orbs of kindness and sighed. "Oh, fine." Fluttershy doesn't play fair.

Then again, neither do I.

"Yay!" Fluttershy cheered softly as I snapped my griffon talons and willed the first pages of my own idle wanderings down the path of what the spa sisters called 'shipping' into the room from where they had been stored.

"Here. It's a bit of a rough draft, but it should be readable." I sighed.

"Oh, I'm sure you did a wonderful job." Fluttershy laid herself down in my lap and flipped over the first couple of pages in the manuscript, conveniently to the part that I had the most wonderful time writing.

I gulped, for I knew retribution was about to be wrought upon me.

The butter yellow mare's pink hair cascaded across the bed, her chest rising and falling quickly with her panting. She tried to keep her excitement at bay, but it was an uphill climb.

Marvalaus gave Fluttershy a gentle stroke of the inner thigh, and she moaned an nigh imperceptibly high squeal of pleasure.

"Just... be gentle, if you don't mind. I- It's my f-first t-time..." Fluttershy stuttered, quivering in anticipation.

Marvoloriddle nodded his head and positioned himself in between Fluttershy's thighs, aligning his-

I snatched the transcript from Fluttershy's hooves. "Ah ha ha, yes, I think that that's enough of that!" I laughed nervously.

"Oh- Oh my." Fluttershy purred, a blush adorning her muzzle and her wings extended across my knees.

"Yes. Um. Well." I cleared my throat.

"I... Um... What was-"

"Just-" I interrupted. "Just a bit of speculative fiction. Fantasy, you know, ridiculous musings... Eh he..." I rubbed behind my goat horn with my lion paw.

"Well, um, maybe it's not so ridiculous..." Fluttershy twirled a hoof on my knobby deer knee.

"Ahem, what? I think I misheard you." I shoved my claw into one ear and withdrew a small mouse. "It almost sounded like you... Eh... Liked it?"

"Oh, well, it certainly wasn't what I had, um, expected." Fluttershy swiveled around onto her back so that she could look me in the face. "But it certainly wasn't... bad."

"I- Really?" I grinned nervously, my one fang pulling at my lips.

"Um, it's just... I am a little bit curious as to how we... got there. And, um... Where it goes from there?" Fluttershy tucked her forehooves to her chest and blushed lightly.

"Well, um. I suppose that I could use and editor..."

"Ooh, I can do that!" Fluttershy exclaimed.

"Well, alright. But you have to Pinkie Promise to not tell anypony, anygriff, anytaur, anycat, anydog, or anycritter else about this!"

Fluttershy did the appropriate gestures and intonations. "Author-Editor confidentiality."

"Oh, thank you, dearest Fluttershy!" I squeezed Fluttershy in the strongest hug that I could muster that wouldn't damage my little friend.

"Now, why don't I go through the rest of this while you write more?" Fluttershy asked, grabbing the rough draft from my claw.

Chapter 7: Ruthlessness and Efficiency

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The time spent travelling to the griffon kingdom of Cloudedge was uneventful and, in Marwolaeth’s opinion, rather peaceful.

Beaker and Spearhaft, however, would have described the journey as a string of racist remarks broken up by bouts of hunting.

Ponies in every town between Canterlot and Shell Beach gave Marwolaeth and his entourage a wide berth, whispering scathing remarks about the griffons’ thoughtless love of violence and how unfair they were being to Equestria and its new resident. At the same time, rumours wove their way through the rank and file of the grape vine, bringing hushed murmurs of Marwolaeth’s cruel and efficient brutality.

Some adventurous ponies attempted to accost Marwolaeth, Beaker and Spearhaft based solely around the face that they were, in fact, not ponies. These dissenters were swiftly put down by the local authorities and interred in the nearest jail cell.

In Shell Beach itself, the speciesm was much less prevalent, as it was a port city and trading hub. Marwolaeth noted a few griffons wheeling about above the town, and spotted a few new creatures to add to his references. He saw sea ponies, minotaurs, naga, sheep, and even a marsupial biped known as the Fauxline due to its feline features. The boat scheduled to take Marwolaeth to Cloudedge was waiting for them at the docks, and soon they were off at sea.

The time at sea was sedate, to say the least. Marwolaeth sat at the bow of the ship for the length of the journey, turning away from the horizon only to eat and defecate. Thus, it was no surprise that Marwolaeth was the first to disembark the ship when it finally docked.

In Marked Hearth, Marwolaeth’s guard count tripled. Six griffons, four of which refused to give their names to the armoured warrior, escorted him through the mountains and crags of Cloudedge, keeping their prisoner well away from the public eye up in the floating eyries of the griffons. The airship that had been chartered had been released of its bonds earlier and gone its merry way. Marwolaeth could hear the guards grumbling about the ‘stupid groundpunder’ and how much easier it would have been to merely throw him to the mercy of the public.

When the caravan finally arrived at the griffon capital of The Lonely City, Marwolaeth finally got his first glimpse of griffon architecture. He observed their walls and structures, nodding at the sturdy stone constructions and cleverly disguised clouds holding the stone in the air. The observant pact servant also noticed the casually lounging military personnel discreetly keeping their eyes on the streets and air space.

As Marwolaeth walked, jeers were thrown at him, along with various rotten fruits and meats. Some especially unruly citizens leapt for Marwolaeth, but were restrained by the guards surrounding him. Crowds of squawking hecklers followed the condemned soldier all the way to the Castle Stoic before they were shut out. Marwolaeth could hear the swelling roars of the crowd still, muted to a dull throb.

After almost an hour of being led through twisting corridors and locked gates, Marwolaeth found himself stripped of weapons and thrust into a dank, cold, damp cell. He wished that he’d been summoned by the griffons instead of the ponies, there would have been much less work for him to do.

The guardsgriffons had attempted to remove Marwolaeth’s armour, but were deterred by the lack of straps and buckles necessary to don and remove such barding, and were hesitant to try and cut the armour away.

For three days and two nights, Marwolaeth sat bereft of food, water and company. The guards stood beside a door outside of the dungeon itself, and no griffon entered the dungeon in the time that the imprisoned warrior lay against the wall of his cell.

Spearhaft and Beaker arrived expecting to find a gaunt, weakened and breaking prisoner, but were met with shined armour, steady voice and a spry eagerness to begin fighting. The eager Marwolaeth was led to the court of King Longrule.

In attendance at Marwolaeth’s hearing were Princess Ironclaw, the guards that the pact servant had crippled, Marwolaeth himself, Spearhaft and Beaker, five bearded griffons, a young male griffon who stood next to Ironclaw, identified as Prince Vanni Newvessel, and King Vanni Longrule himself, a grey and thoroughly well kept cadaver animated by the spirit of a long dead king.

“Ma’volaeth Pydredd.” Longrule rasped through the previous prince’s mouth. “You ‘ave been accuzed of ze assault and crippling of a flight of royal guards and ze princess of ze throne, daughter of my ‘ost.” Marwolaeth briefly wondered how a corpse could produce the growling and gargling sounds required by griffon speech if it didn’t produce saliva. “‘Ow do you plead?”

“Guilty.” Marwolaeth replied with no hesitation.

“Very well.” Longrule held out one claw, which was filled by a scroll handed to the griffon king by one of the bearded old griffons. “Ze penalty for such affronts iz death. You ‘ave sent vord forvard zat you wish to die by ze varrior’s execution. Bring ‘im to ze coliseum.”

Marwolaeth was once again lead through corridors and halls until he emerged on the tamped dirt floor of a rather large coliseum. The convict was directed to stand in the center of the pit while the stands filled with chattering spectators. Some adventurous griffons tossed peanuts and tomatoes at Marwolaeth.

After a short wait, and when the coliseum was filled to the brim, King Longrule ascended to his throne away from home.

“Ma’volaeth Pydredd.” Longrule roared over the crowd. “You ‘ave been sentenced to die ‘ere by ze paws of ze beasts, prisoners and gladiators of zis land! Zhould you survive until zhere are no more foes to face, you zhall be pardoned and acquitted of your crimes, and will be zet free.” The king said this last sentence with the bored monotone of the rote memorization who had never fulfilled this promise of freedom, and never expected to fulfill it. “Chooze you vun veapon.”

A young cub approached Marwolaeth with a large chest. The courier unlatched the clasp and extended the trays and racks from within. Multitudes of rusty, dull and rotted weapons littered the chest, scabbed together by old bloodstains. Marwolaeth picked out and lifted the least worn, indeed nearly untouched, weapon.

A long staff, as tall as Marwolaeth’s shoulder.

The griffon onlookers hooted and cawed in laughter as Marwolaeth gave his staff a few experimental swings while the griffon squire retreated with the chest of weapons.

“Let ze games…” Longrule smirked, baleful fire flickering in his eyes. “Begin.”

Marwolaeth let the magic in his bones suffuse his being, causing the shimmering green lines and runes to burst to life on his limbs as the gates surrounding the wall of the arena lifted.

Rabid, starved dogs lunged at Marwolaeth’s shins. Their teeth splintered and their heads cracked.

Dogs of war, bred and maintained leaped for Marwolaeth’s throat. Their necks snapped with ease.

Large cats circled warily before pouncing through the air. Marwolaeth found that dead cats don’t ever land on their feet.

Manticores hissed and growled. They also twitched and whimpered as their own stingers were turned against them.

Chimeras driven to madness drove forward with reckless abandon. Three heads turned to two, and then there was one, before none at all.

Even a fearsome hydra, shaking the ground as it walked. All the heads in the world couldn’t save it.

Eventually, the assembled griffons grew bored of animal slaughter and cried for the real blood sport to begin. King Longrule made a motion to his courier, who scurried off to begin escorting the prisoners to the ring.

A diamond dog with broken paws limped into the arena. “Rusty is so close!” It whimpered. “So close to freedom! You cannot stop him!” Indeed, Rusty did not stop until he splattered against the arena wall.

A griffon with clipped wings. “Please… I can’t… Not anymore…” His suffering was ended before his sudden but inevitable betrayal had time to come to fruition.

A sheep, sheared of wool and pale of skin. “It- It was either this or becoming food.” His body fed the crows and vultures.

A fauxline covered in scars, standing tall and proud. “Yocasta will come for me soon. I will be here for her, and you won’t leave here alive.” Her broken, battered body lay drowning in a pool of its own lifeblood.

A unicorn with his horn snapped off. “You- You’re from Equestria, right? Celestia sent you to rescue me, didn’t she? Quickly, we must ma-” He was freed from his bonds of life.

A satyr, one very familiar to Marwoaleth. “M-Marwolaeth?”

“Tade.”

“N-not gonna demand to be called Pydredd, eh?”

“No. I do not hold that station for the moment.”

“Dammit.”

Tade was sent back to his clerk work for his master with a split hoof and broken horn.

A naga, strong and stoic. An entire pack of armoured diamond dogs. A human, one of the last of its kind. A kobold, tricky and supplied with gadgets. A goblin, swift and devious. A large spider, fresh out of web.

None of them could do more than scratch and dent Marwolaeth’s armour.

“Chicks and gentlegriffs.” Longrule bellowed as Marwolaeth slid the remains of his last victim off of his staff. “Ze varrior’s execution iz drawing to a cloze. It is time to bring out ze crowd favourite!” Loud stamping echoed from the stands, nearly drowning out the cheers of the audience. “Presenting ze undefeated gladiator!”

A second set of stomping drowned out the audience. Emerging from the shadows was a minotaur, bulky and imposing. His fur was shaved from his torso, and metal plates had been grafted onto his skin in strategically critical places. Over his shoulder, he heaved a heavy battle axe.

“Sure Swing as arrived!” The beast roared in a deep, throaty baritone. “Cower in fear, criminal, for I will be your end!”

Marwolaeth grunted and twirled his staff, unimpressed.

One classic tactic later using the fine vest that Rarity had made, Sure Swing laid with his horns embedded in the wall of the coliseum, his body slumped limply from his broken neck, where Marwolaeth had taken a routine from a satyr not too different from the one he had dispatched earlier, and river danced on his back, albeit in full armour.

The stands were silent, the griffons staring in shock at the implacable man.

King Vanni Longrule muttered to his aide before clearing his throat, coughing out a lump of damp dust. “Vhile zis an unprecedented zituation, ve ‘ave a failzafe for criminals zuch az zis.”

The onlooking griffons muttered to themselves.

A shadow appeared on the arena floor.

“Chicks and gentlegriffs, ve present to you all…”

A soft whistling could be heard from above.

“Ze long fabled pride of ze griffon military and final opponent in ze varrior’s execution…”

A large, purple blur slammed into the arena floor, kicking up all of the loose dirt into a dark cloud. Two glowing, black, reptilian eyes could be seen within the cloud in front of a shadowed mass the size of a house.

“Zteelzcale the Just!”

Steelscale flapped his wings, dissipating the lingering dust screen.

Marwolaeth felt giddy for the first time since he had faced Luna in single combat.

“And just to give ze victim a fair chance…” Longrule chuckled. “Ze fatality law of ze arena is lifted for Ma’volaeth Pydredd! If ‘e can extract a surrender from Zteelzcale, ‘e will be freed!” The griffons all erupted in laughter.

“Marwolaeth… Pydredd…” Steelscale rumbled, his voice as deep and rough as a mountain slide. “Finally we meet.”

Marwolaeth snickered. “A dragon old enough to remember my name, eh? Or is the fear of The Hoard Killer no longer prevalent in dragon lore?”

Steelscale growled. “I will enjoy slowly tearing your limbs off for the insult you have paid dragon kind!”

“I have defeated Matron Skiika. How much better do you think you will fare?”

“Bah. Skiika was a fluke. I have heard the stories. You attacked her while her back was turned! And here, I hold the advantage. Your puny stick will not harm me!”

Marwolaeth glanced down at his dented, bent and broken staff. “Hmm. You have a point.” He poured magic into the remains of the staff. “I suppose that I will just have to…” The knight plunged the end of the staff into the ground. “Upgrade.”

Marwolaeth’s magic curled through the staff and twisted into the earth, reshaping the packed dirt. When he was satisfied, the mighty warrior heaved upwards, tearing a large chunk of compressed earth out of the ground, leaving a gaping hole in the floor of the coliseum. The boulder was shaped like the head of an intricate maul, covered in the same vines and runes that splayed over Marwolaeth himself.

Steelscale growled with the sound of grinding boulders and bolted forward, snapping at Marwoaeth, who ducked under his jaw and slammed his maul into the mass of scales and flesh, sending the dragon into the air.

And so it went. Steelscale swiped and bit at Marwolaeth, scoring his armour and nicking his skin, while the eldritch knight shattered scales and cracked bones while tenderizing the mountains of muscle just below the purple scales.

The griffons cheered for Steelscale and became louder and rowdier with each blow exchanged.

Finally, Marwolaeth grabbed a wing as it flapped downwards to propel a devastating tackle and tossed himself onto Steelscale’s back. The dragon attempted to roll over and crush the pest on his back, but Marwolaeth jumped, propelled high into the air by his magic.

Time seemed to still for a moment as Steelscale and the crowd realized what was to come.

Steelscale’s belly was exposed.

The hammer dropped.

Ribs broke.

Steelscale went limp.

The crowds were silent.

Steelscale heaved a hoarse, shuddering sigh as he muttered a phrase never before heard on the floor of the coliseum.

“I yield.”

“Unacceptable!” Princess Ironclaw, who had been silent up to this moment, screamed. “Kill ‘im! Make ‘im suffer, I order you!”

“He has won.” Steelscale croaked as Marwolaeth jumped off of the dragon’s chest. “He has earned his pardon.”

“Pah. Useless dragon. Guards! Kill zem!” Ironclaw screeched. King Longrule sat silent, the flames in his eyes flickering low.

“Steelscale.” Marwolaeth murmured as the dragon righted himself. “Might I have the honour of knowing your real name?”

“Dirvaka.” The dragon coughed, spitting blood from his mouth.

“A pleasure. Dirvaka, I propose an exchange. Aid me, and I shall ensure that you live.”

Griffons swarmed in the air over the coliseum, covered in ornate yet practical armour and armed to the beak.

“Deal.”

Marwolaeth laid a hand against Dirvaka’s hide and allowed the magic from within his stomach flow. The dragon felt his bones set and heal, and his internal wounds knitting together.

“Unfortunately, I can do little for your less serious injuries, but you will not die, nor be hindered in battle.”

“Many thanks.”

“You cannot ztop uz, Ma’volaeth!” Princess Ironclaw crowed as the legion of griffons swarmed over the coliseum.

“Hold, griffons!” Marwolaeth bellowed, his voice carrying across the city. “With my trial and punishment complete, I am bound by Celestia to kill no being that attacks me!” The griffons began to raise a cheer. “But that merely means that you will receive no mercy!

“You will be left as I left your princess and your elite guards! Crippled, dishonoured, humiliated! What will your chicks and mates do then, when your entire military becomes disabled, and your country becomes easy prey? For make no mistake, strike at me now, and it will be considered an act of war on Equestria, and I will make it my personal mission to hunt down and disable every single soldier in Cloudedge and beyond!

“Your entire kingdom will fall, merely because of the self-entitled brat you call a princess!”

The flocking griffons took pause, something Princess Ironclaw did not like. She cackled madly. “You can’t do anything to my army! Ve’ll kill you and move on to that pathetic little princess who ‘olds your leash! And maybe I’ll pay a personal visit to zose whores who you love so dearly!”

“Eat her.” Marwolaeth ordered.

“With pleasure.” Dirvaka licked his chops.

Ironclaw’s mad laughter was silenced with a swoop and a snap.

“If you fear death…” Marwolaeth addressed the assembled griffons. “Approach me and learn suffering. For if you do not, you will swiftly find that the one you know as Steelscale holds no such oaths as I!”

“Living flesh…” Dirvaka crooned. “It has been so long… I can feel my fire alighting once more!”

“Ah, I was wondering why you hadn’t used your breath against me.”

“They fed me carrion. They’re lucky that my stipend for retaining my position was so lucrative.”

“Stand down!” King Vanni Longrule roared at his soldiers. The griffons snapped their attention to their king before settling on the ground.

“Wise decision.” Marwolaeth smirked. “Know this! Equestria is under my protection! Attacks against it will bring the full brunt of my wrath upon your armies and your people! If that were to happen, I would not handicap myself with inferior weaponry nor dampers on my efficiency!”

A shiver ran through the crowd.

Slowly, the citizens and guards trickled out of the stadium as Dirvaka and Marwolaeth conversed.

“Ah, that was more fun than I’ve had in centuries!” Dirvaka snorted a plume of smoke from his nostrils. “Though I feel that my end of our exchange remains unfulfilled.”

“I agree.”

“Call me, Marwolaeth Pydredd, The Hoard Killer, and I will be at your side to assist you.”

“I would be honoured to have you with me in battle. I thank you for your assistance here as well. What will you do now?”

Dirvaka chuckled. “I will move my hoard to a new home. The griffons will no longer tolerate me here.”

“Yes, about that.” King Vanni Longrule strode up to the pair, trailed by a courier loaded with Marwolaeth’s armoury, which he promptly began to strap on.

“King Longrule.” Marwolaeth inclined his head.

“Vanni.” Dirvaka nodded.

“Pydredd. Dirvaka.” Longrule nodded to them both. “I feel as though I should apologize for my host’s daughter’s behaviour. As the firstborn, she would have been my next vessel had she been male. Alas, the comforts of being the eldest of the royal family with a real promise of life for her future went to her head.”

“I understand, and accept your apology. At least you know better than to tolerate war talk.”

Longrule chuckled. “Indeed, though if only I had summoned Tade earlier, things would be different.”

“And somewhat more exciting.”

“Nevertheless, you are right, Dirvaka, old friend. My subjects will not tolerate you here, anymore. Luckily, we have our old cave still intact.”

“Mm, yes, the one that holds your original body. That will work.”

“Additionally, I would appreciate keeping you on retainer, albeit with a somewhat reduced stipend.”

Dirvaka nodded. “That is acceptable. Let us hope that none of these griffons are still alive the next time I am called upon.”

Longrule chuckled. “Two or three generations should do it.”

The three ancient beings shared a collective chuckle before Marwolaeth turned to leave.

“I appreciate your people and you, Longrule. I truly hope that I will not be obliged to tear this kingdom down and, perhaps when Celestia releases me of my contract, you can charter my aid.”

“One can dream, Pydredd.”

The trip to Canterlot was just as uneventful as the trip away from it.

Marwolaeth realized, upon walking into the castle and being greeted with a party of heroic proportions that he hadn’t eaten in weeks.

Somehow, a mouthful of cake found itself in Marwolaeth’s jaw without the visor being lifted. He looked for potential culprits in the surrounding crush of ponies, passing up Twilight and Rarity as potential suspects, until his gaze landed on Pinkie.

Pinkie Pie just winked at Marwolaeth, giggling.