Albovia, the largest island that lies off the coast of the old world. A land once ruled by hundreds of oxen chieftain before the princesses came from the new world to reestablish the old pony kingdoms. Now a land ruled by the imperial prince Henry the XI and other pony aristocrats, with a bovine peasantry. The island has many forests and fields, it is a relatively peaceful place. Relatively.
The new world has the diamond dogs, they are few and relatively harmless. In the old world, there are hundreds of variations of these mutts. From the mighty Mongrel Horde on the edges of Saddle Arabia and Maretonia, to the nomad Germarey Shepards. The highland hill hounds have been attacking albovian border towns for as long as ponies have remembered, a particularly savage pack has surfaced.
Rex is a happy hound, it is always entertaining to see ponies die. The captives were taken from the last raid, other alphas would enslave them. However, Rex wanted to set an example, give him what he wants or join the other heads on his mantle. "Billy, line them up" what a simple mind, thought Rex. He is useful though, the captives are dressed simply, their hands bound behind them. Only stallions though, mares are extremely valuable to some, and Rex would be lying if he said he didn't indulge a little.
"You are all going to die."
Who said that, thought Rex then he noticed one of the captives standing a little taller than the others, strange eyes, wings lashed to his back, a mark of crossed spears behind a heater shield, a scar across his right cheek. "What is your name.
"Call me Alwin."
"Well Alwin, I have 6 men with me. We have weapons. You are tied like a hearth's warming turkey. How will you do that" the captive thestral shrugged.
"I don't know yet, I do not have it all thought out yet. First step is complete though. You missed the knife in my boot"
Okay, the bonds are cut. Now what. Well let’s start with killing the motherbucker that is in my face. The knife penetrates the furs, plaid, and leather that Rex was wearing like paper. Hmm, that claymore on his back seems promising. "REX. You die fool." the spear is easy to deflect. I took the sword blade in my hands and broke his skull in with the cross hilt.
"Now what genius, there is still 4 of us, and one of you." he is right. I can outfight anyone of them, not all of them. Not here. Wait, yes that should do it.
"How about these." I cut an earth pony's bonds "free the others, I will hold them off". He nods in conformation. Good now I just have to hold them off for a moment or two.
"Kill him" an ax hound tries to rush past me to get my compatriot before he can finish anymore of his task. I thrust my sword point at his legs, not fatal yet. But he is out of it. I back-step away from a knife thrust. I make a clumsy swing toward him, my inexperience with the weapon starting to show. They sense my weakness, emboldened they rush me. Then ii hear a wordless cry of rage. The captives are free. Chasing the now fleeing hounds with stolen weapons.
Let’s see what they have on their bodies, hmmm precious few bits. The kilts are flea bitten, the blades may be worth a little. "Alwin" who? Ohh it is one of the villagers, "thank you, we and our families would be goners if it were not for you".
"Don't mention it. I was here for the bounty on this one" I point to Rex "he has pissed off a lot of people, and the reward is substantial."
"Regardless, we insist that you feast at the long-house. What is your full name so we may put you in sagas"
"Alwin Von Ross"
the lands of the old world, the ones controlled by ponies anyway, are ruled by a series of imperial princes. they control their own realms under their mutual overlords, the alicorn princesses. however, they rarely visit. meaning they really have the power to do whatever they want (within reason). Saddle Arabia, Prance, Germaney, Denmarek, Ponland, and Maretonia, all with their own cultures, traditions, governmental structure, etc., etc. this leads to a lot of tensions.
their rivals, the griffin kingdoms of griffinshore and griffinbank, dump massive amounts of treasure to keep it that way. the Mongrels constantly invade the frontiers. simply put thing are bad.
the meal is nice, filling potato, nice pork. well, time to leave. "excuse me, I am the village bard, I would like to know your story,"
"me? why? I am really not that interesting."
then the bard replied, "most people are, it is my job to make them interesting." well... why not,
"my life started in the lands of my father, in germaney. he was a lunar knight, it is considered a great honor among the thestrals to be a part of that sacred order. the lands of the house of Ross were rich in game, forest, and orchard. the cider was especially sweet, I wish I had some right now. My father died fighting in maretonia, my older sister inherited the estate. And I needed to find a new job. Mercenary work sounded fun, I knew a little about using a spear, sword and shield, I had armor. It didn’t seem that hard, I was wrong” so very wrong, there is somethings better left forgotten.
“Excuse me, i have to leave. Where did i leave my gear.”
Then i hear a feminian voice, a young earth pony teenager. Pretty in a girl next door kind of way, “don’t leave. At least not yet. Me and some of the girls have a… surprise for you”.
“What, did you bake a cake? I like cake, or cookies, or brownies maybe”
She looked Perplexed, “No! I am offering, well… you know”.
What is she talking about… oh.ohh *gulp* “i am flattered, i really am. But i have to leave.” there is my pack, lets fly.
Miss briar rose is a bit gobsmacked, “is he gay, am i just not attractive to him.”
Good luscious luna, that was difficult. My entire body tried to revolt against my brain, i mean those flanks, those thighs, those… no, no… i am in control. Not as if i have much chance with those girls anyway. I used a note to ask for my first date, and when she said yes i had no idea what to do. Stop thinking about your lack of a love life, we have some heads to sell.
Author's Note
feel free to comment.
ah, Galloway. North albovia’s largest and dirtiest city. A retched pool of scum, crime, and corporate lawyers. Lord mayor Làir is not the most trustworthy of clients, but she pays well. Ugh, here comes her ape of a bodyguard. “did you complete the job.”
“check the basket”, it is amusing to see how ponies react to their first severed heads. He looks like he is about to puke.
“aright, I have seen enough. Into the office”
“as blunt as ever, eh Wilbert”, ah Mr. ‘crusher’ how long did you think it would take for me to learn your real name.
though from the look of rage on his face I may be pushing my luck. Lord mayor Làir, a business-like mare in business like dress. Black pantsuit, bun, and iron horseshoes rather than the fashionable silver.
“well Mr. Ross I see that your reputation is well earned.” She picked up rex’s head to examine it, not so much as flinching.
She has obviously done this before. “So many of my caravans were burned by this beast.”
“oh, much more dangerous than any true beast. Beasts don’t get bright ideas of conquest”
She seemed mildly shocked “surely not, there were only 6 at most.”
“I have seen it before in the Jutland. A sled dog alpha was successful at raiding, leading to his pack getting bigger,
leading to bigger raids, until he tried to force out the ponies. Fortunately, the pack collapsed to infighting.” That me and my outfit may have encouraged and exploited.
She does not seem to be interested, large picture thinking rarely does. “regardless, you did a good job. 400 bits as you
requested. However, if you would like, I have a few permanent jobs for ponies of your talent”
“you’re not the first to make that offer, and they had a lot more to give. Just give me the money.”
grand duke nόνυ, imperial prince of martonia, is not happy. when his ancestors were first trusted with this position the land
was the richest of all the princedoms in the old world. it had massive trade cities, great ziggurat palaces, and beautiful temples to the light-givers. those days are long gone, Saddle Arabia bled away much of the eastern trade, many palaces were dismantled to provide stone for the walls to keep out the mongrels. and the temples were stripped of their precious items to fund the ducal hoplites. it is a land on the brink of collapse and ruin. "my lord duke, you can't be serious. you can't go to the crystal empire NOW!"
nόνu speaks "I have no choice, we need the help of the lady day-breaker and the rest of her house. if I do not leave we
will fall."
Lots of ponies don’t really understand the dogs, seeing them as the same everywhere. The snow dogs would laugh at the hill hound’s tartan’s, a hill hound would despise the diamond dogs as soft for not beating their slaves into submission. The mongrels would just kill the slave as an example to the others, after torturing them in front of their families.
the mongrel empire is just that, a mongrel. A confederation of thousands and thousands of packs, hundreds of tribes, and dozens of nations stretching from the Mareterranean Sea to the edges of the dragonstone islands. Founded by a litter of six brothers, the empire is split in six parts. Tugou, combi, afghan, borzoi, saluki, and the closest, kangal. If celestia and the mongrels fought all out, one third of the world would be ash. Fortunately that is unlikely, that does not man there wouldn't be war though.
The great pack is ready, thought alpha khaan Нохоi with satisfaction. All his careful planning is coming to fruition. Thousands of timberwulf raiders, tens of thousands of foot hounds, and his secret weapons. “Great alpha” Üdesh was Hoxoi’s greatest advisor, the hunting hound of kangal, slayer of great beasts. “If I may ask, where are we going.”
Hoxoi smirked “I am going to Saddle Arabia, you are going to maretonia. the last of our rivals in the region, gone in a single season. I can practically taste the olives from the duke’s dangling gardens.”
The dog’s head inn, there's a place like this in every city. The drink is cheap, the room’s filthy, the clientele worse, a mercenary usual home. “Ahh, captain alwin, did it go well?”
“I am not a captain till the company grows, you can’t be a captain without stallions to lead. As it is it is just me. Got the cider I like.”
The innkeeper likes me, I don’t start fights, I keep my room clean (well cleaner) for him, and I always pay for my drinks. “Don’t know why you drink that stuff, it is non-alcoholic.”
“that is why I drink it” the door is kicked open, damn it, it’s wilbert.
“You sanctimonious prick, I should…” I probably shouldn’t wait for him to finish his sentence. My hoof hit his shin, my horseshoe is spiked for this very purpose. He drops like a sack, clutching his injured leg. I quickly put my hoof on his neck and grab a leg.
“I wouldn’t move, I keep those spikes sharp. We wouldn’t want to cut open your jugular. now this is a stiletto that i have in my hand, right here is the achilles tendon. I so much as twitch and you are crippled for life. Leave, this is my only warning.” I have seldom seen anyone run so fast.”innkeep, get a mop”.
“Well, time to go. Here is your rent, innkeep.”
He looked pensive, like he has a question that he wants to ask, but is afraid too. “What will you do now, you could stay. I could use a bouncer.”
“Sorry, I have to go. Prance has a lot of opportunity for a stallion like me, noble bickering and so forth. The train will be leaving soon, I need to get my timberwulf.” ahh timberwulves, or as some of the more civilised places call them dogwoods. A dog carved from the pieces of slain timberwolves, enchanted and ridden like a bicycle. I called it maple “come boy, we have a train to catch."
