Less than a day later, the dust had settled. The caribou had managed to capture every pony in their town without trouble, thanks to the brilliance of their surprise attack. Those cunts not "selected" as personal pets for the council members or being used by the lower ranks had been stuffed into a warehouse for safekeeping. They'd taken to repurposing the other warehouses and buildings for their own usage, throwing out the garbage they couldn't use and putting what they'd taken with them on their pillgrimage into them.

None of that was on the mind of a certain stag blacksmith though, as he pounded away on an anvil. What was instead on his mind was the state of "his" shop. Said shop, whose previous occupant had obviously been a pony, was a mess. If he would have been in the mood for guessing, the stag would have had to guess it belonged to a worthless cunt before it was liberated for malekind, if one were to buy that bullshit, but he wasn't. It mattered little to who it belonged to, this sorry excuse for a smithy was in shambles, Bits of sharp, hot metal was strewn about here and there, debris everywhere to the point to where he could barely walk let alone work, most of the shelves were broken and needed fixing. He knew in the back of his mind that part of it was due to his own people's invasion, but he still liked to think it was mostly due to the previous pony owner's incompetence.

The bull had rearranged some of this junk into a makeshift seat which he sat upon now as he worked the tiny anvil in front of him. The seat was nowhere near as comfortable, or for that matter stable as he'd have liked it to be, and the anvil It was a lot smaller than it needed to be, but at least it was functional.

Fixing this was not something he could feasibly do at the moment however. Right now, he was swamped with work orders. Including the one he was working on right now: a bit of steel he was shaping out to be a short blade. Then after that, there was this armor for Ivangir that needed straightening. And then there was that project Dainn wanted him to work on. And somewhere between that, he had to find time to discipline that sniveling little mare that lay tied in the next room over.

He felt his dick begin to harden on that last prospect. While it was a chore among many, the burly stag couldn't deny that beating some sense into a hapless female would definitely relieve some stress on his part, even more so when he could then spread her legs and stuff himself inside. A sadistic smile appeared on his lips as he imagined the feeling of the mare futilely beating his arms in a vain attempt to break free of him, the tight feel of her cunt welcoming his ever hardening dick while her muzzle let out a never ending torrent of screams. The mare's loud, whiny sobs had been like a song to his ears when he had first taken her, music he was looking forward to composing yet again after a long day's grind.

He sighed happily at this momentary distraction before returning to his work, beating the sword with the hammer with a quickened pace. The sooner he was done with this, the sooner he could have some much needed fun.

A loud crash from behind him distracted him from his work. A scowl quickly appeared on his face, replacing the dreamy grin that had been there but moments earlier. Groaning, he put his hammer down, and rose from his makeshift seat. The enormous blacksmith turned around to find the source of the noise. It had come from the back a ways behind where he had been sitting. He grumbled as he stumbled through the debris to find the offending noise's origin.

He soon found what had caused the ruckus: a fallen shelf in the back room, its contents spilled all over the floor. It had apparently fallen down while he'd been banging away on his anvil. With a groan, he easily lifted the offending object, and placed it into a corner to take care of when he had the time.

He was in the process of cleaning up the mess that had formed from the shelf's fall when another noise broke his attention. This one was different than before. A shuffling, rather than a loud crash. A shuffling coming from right behind him.

He turned around to confront the offending source. His eyes narrowed into slits at what he saw, only to go as wide as they could not a second later.

The streets outside were busy. Not with ponies going about their daily lives as it had been before, but with stags. Moving cargo, refitting buildings to their purpose. A few were patrolling the streets, looking to catch any remaining stragglers or hiders amongst the townsfolk, but with little luck.

The active cries of a few mares being violated could be heard from a few of the occupied buildings. Their screams echoed through the streets, though no one lifted a finger to help them. Why would they? The stags occupying the streets were the cause of their distress in the first place, as evidenced by the occasional stag leaving a building with a tired, cum-stained and cum-dripping mare thrown over his shoulders, or dragging her along the ground by her legs or arms in the case of the more brutish of the stags. In other parts, the reverse was being played out, with stags carrying or dragging mares, ones which usually had less cum on them but were far more livid, kicking and screaming, into 'their' houses to repeat the process all over again.

Some stags didn't even bother taking their captives into the houses and buildings. The sights and sounds of mares having every orifice the invaders could find being stuffed and pounded full of caribou dick in full view of everystag watching was not an uncommon sight at all after the invasion.

Occasionally, one might catch a glimpse of a stallion trying to rush to the rescue, only to be beaten down and dragged off down the street to join the other stallions in the warehouses.

Down said street walked a stag of great importance to his people, one of the members of the King's inner council, Master Strategist Vestri. He held his chest and head high as he walked the street with a proud strut. His right hand held tightly onto a leash. Attached to said leash was a mare: A certain cunt he liked to call Sunny, his newly acquired pet.

Taking but a moment to look down upon his pet as she begrudgingly fumbled about, the council member mentally groaned as he watched his newly pet flinch with each jab of the rocks below before returning to his prideful strut. He had places to be and things to do, and babying a prissy bitch was not among them.

In fact, it was part of the reason he was out here to begin with. He was on his way to acquire a set of collars for his new pet. A red collar that rewarded her with comfort. And also a black one that punished her with discomfort and pain. The black one would more to scare her into submission more than anything, as she seemed more than willing to submit to anything he demanded of her. He doubted he'd even use it.

Still, it never hurt to be prepared.

"Quite the crowd that's gathered here, it seems." He commented as he turned the corner to the newly established blacksmithery. Indeed, an unusual amount of stags had gathered there. Vestri could guess that the blacksmith would that be very busy this soon after their invasion, but even Vestri didn't think the blacksmith would be this busy.

Still, he was a councilman. If push came to shove, he could always pull rank and shove these stags out of the way. In fact, this was exactly what he had planned to do until a stag within the crowd turned and approached him.

"Sorry sir, but you're going to have to leav-" The stag stopped midway through. "L-Lord Vestri! Forgive me, I didn't know."

"Obviously it's me, private." Vestri responded angrily. "Who did you expect, Sindri?"

"I'm.. a sergeant... sir." The soldier corrected shakily.

"Right, right." Vestri groaned. "Anyway, is there a reason for this blockade, sergeant?! There had better be, and it had better be good. I need these collars made right awa-"

"The blacksmith is dead, sir." The sergeant interrupted.

"What?! Impossible!" Vestri yelled. "I saw him alive earlier today!"

"It's true, sir. I came in to check on a sword I had him work on, and I found him dead."

"Let me see. Now." Vestri commanded. The Sergeant nodded, not about to try to deny a councilman entry, since that would be downright stupid. Vestri stepped past him, and was about to rush into the building when he suddenly remembered he was holding a leash.

"Hey, you!" Vestri yelled to one of the nearby stags. As soon as the stag turned to him, he tossed him the leash holding Sunny.

"Watch my pet until I come back." He ordered. The stag looked at Sunny, flashing a malicious grin at her as she cowered in fear as vestri made his way into the building. Grins that were soon joined by the other stags huddled in the area. One was already making a go for his pants strings when Vestri suddenly stopped.

"Oh, and no, you don't get to play with her. That cunt is mine." Vestri growled, pointing over his shoulder at the stags behind him, not even bothering to turn around. He wiggled his finger at the group angrily. "I find a single spot of cum on or in her that isn't mine, and you'll all be on warbeast manure duty for the next five weeks."

A collected bunch of groans and whines of protest came from the collection of stags. Vestri ignored them as he disappeared inside.

Vestri stumbled around the debris, cursing as his feet brushed against the trash and rubble the blacksmith had strewn about. A second or two later he reached the back room.

Sure enough, the blacksmith was laying on the floor, on his back, and bereft of life. Vestri began to examine the body. His hands lay on either side, palms open. Vestri could see no items that the stag might have been holding prior to meeting his fate. The stag's face shown a permanent look of terror, his mouth was wide open, as was his eyes. Vestri could see that this stag did not die peacefully.

However, something was missing from the scene. Something that he would clearly point to a murder, yet wasn't there. And that item was: blood. There was none of it that he could see. Even as Vestri knelt down and began to more closely inspect the corpse, he could find no signs of struggle on the body. No stabs, cuts, lacerations. Also no marks around the throat indicating any type of strangulation. Neither thin lines indicating any type of rope or similar object, nor any handprints. The only thing of note was a very slight bruise in the middle of his throat, but it certainly wasn't large or deep enough to cause any sort of choking on its own.

That left two possibilities. Poison or Magic. Vestri could almost certainly rule out disease, too sudden. Magic could be tested here and now, in fact. Vestri's horn lit up as his hands hovered and moved along the contours of the deceased stag.

"Nothing." He muttered to himself. If this stag had been attacked, the killer hadn't used magic. He'd have to have the blacksmith checked for poisons. Something he couldn't do here and now.

"If that was the case though, I would suspect I'd find some sort of vomit or something around here." There was none, though. This was either some very high grade, fast acting stuff, or poison hadn't caused this death.

"I suppose there's still the possibility of a heart attack, but the body is in a strange position for that." He muttered to himself. Usually when that happened, they clutched their chests instinctively and rolled over in pain. This man had apparently just lied down and... died. After seeing something horrible, something that was evident on his face.

"Well, I hate to say this" he muttered to himself. "But I'm stumped."

"What's there to be stumped about?!" A familiar voice boomed from behind him. Vestri rose and turned to meet the source of this new voice, already knowing who it was.

"Brother." Vestri greeted his larger sibling with a deadpan tone.

"You always were so stupid!" His brother laughed. "I mean it's obvious what caused his death. And I didn't even have to check the body!"

It was now that Vestri noticed that Ivangir was holding something. A mare with a yellow coat and a orange mane, the latter of which Ivangir was holding onto with his oversized hand. The mare of course was struggling as best as she could to get away from him, batting at his arms repeatedly with her fists in an instinctive attempt to injure him enough to let her down. Ivangir responded by holding her up, causing her to yell loudly in pain as her feet were lifted off the floor.

"This right here was the blacksmith's cunt!" He bellowed. "She was here when he died. So, she did it. The logic is ir- irafu-. Not arguable!" He stuttered on the last part.

"I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!" She screamed, kicking and wriggling frantically while she continued to batter her wrists futilely against her captor's muscular arms. "LET ME GO, YOU MONSTER!"

"I hate to rain on your accomplishment, dear brother." Vestri responded to Ivangir's triumphant boast with a dry and annoyed sarcasm. "But I doubt the cunt had anything to do with this."

Ivangir's eyes narrowed. "Oh yyyeah?" He groaned proudly. "How do you think that? Especially since the ev...i..dence is right here?"

"Because there isn't any." Vestri responded matter of factly. "In fact, I can't find a cause of death on this stag anywhere. He wasn't stabbed, or choked. I can't rule out poison completely I'll admit, but there's no vomit or anything that would point to it. Besides, cunts aren't that smart to come up with something like that anyway. Oh, and there's no magic traces, so we can rule out spells."

"Of course there's no magic, idiot. She's one of those dirt mares!" Ivangir shot back.

"I've noticed." Vestri responded dryly.

"So that means I'm right! Ha ha, sorry brother but you lose again."

Vestri sighed at the stupidity present before him.

"Okay, brother." he spat. "If you're so smart, tell me how she did it."

"...What?" Ivangir gave him a questioning look.

"You heard me." Vestri responded. "How did he die?"

"This mare did it!" Ivangir responded, once again holding the mare out in front of him. "Haven't you been listening?"

"Clearly." Vestri responded dryly. "But the question I'm asking is how did she do it? She didn't stab him or slice him open. I doubt she used a poison potent enough to kill him this quickly without him or anyone else noticing. And like you said, no magic either. So how did she do it?"

"I... Well... Ummm..." Ivangir stumbled.

"Besides, wasn't that mare tied to the bed when you found her? She was a few minutes ago when I got here. I doubt a cunt like that could think to untie herself, murder him, then tie herself back to the bed." Vestri smiled, thinking that maybe he was starting to get through to that thick-brained brother of his. He decided to press the advantage now that he had Ivangir stumbling for words.

"Besides, we still haven't ruled out natural causes or the like just yet-"

"This mare did it!" Ivangir bellowed, interrupting him. "And no amount of your funny thinkin' talk is gonna change that!" He threw the mare, who by now had lost any energy in struggling, onto his shoulder. "Don't you worry brother, I'll get a confession out of this bitch one way or the other. And when I'll do, I'll show you why I'm the best brother among us once again!" He laughed as he stormed out of the room with his prize.

Vestri sighed. "Yeah, you go do that." He muttered. He knew his brother too well, and he knew that at this point his brother really didn't care if she did it or not. He just wanted an excuse to fuck a cunt and make her scream. The fact that he could 'show up' his brother was just a bonus at this point. Or he could try, at least. It's not like the king was stupid enough to actually believe him. Still, Ivangir would probably get his way anyway, and the mare would be blamed, just to keep the rest of the stags placated.
Still, it bothered Vestri that the real killer could be out there somewhere, waiting to strike again, though that assumed there even was one to begin with. The councilstag began to think that perhaps he had been over thinking this whole thing. Perhaps it was just the long, rough trip and the stress that came from it that brought the old blacksmith to death's door. Too much, too soon.

The stag decided that he was not going to accomplish anything more here either way. He gave one last look around the room before he too left, making sure to pick up his pet before going on his way.

The collars could wait. He had other things to do today, anyway.

Ponies. Ponies everywhere. Some sleeping. Some standing around sullenly. Some, mostly mares, crying while their loved ones did the best to comfort them in this dark time. This was the state of the inside of what the caribou were dubbing "warehouse two".

A few of them were talking in the corner with one of the mares that had been recently thrown in. As much as they hated to press the mares for information after all they went through in the last day or so, they were the only source of information on the world outside this stuffy warehouse that they had. Most were reduced to recalling what the caribou had done to their bodies. One group in particular was coddling a nude, crying mare whose body showed fresh bruises and was still matted with cum.

Suddenly, the door rumbled, causing all of the ponies eyes to be shifted towards the door. All eyes watched as a mare was thrown in amongst them, hitting the floor with a loud thud. The mare look behind her as the door was closed with a loud thud, a clicking sound coming from outside followed barely a second later.

The captives watched as the newcomer rose began to sit upright, her eyes returning their gazes with her own fearful one. It didn't take long for any of them to recognize the newcomer. Nonetheless, one felt the need to shout the obvious.

"Sunrise is here!"

A nude mare, which one could guess was her mother, ran to Sunny and hugged her. The two began talking to themselves, as the others simply drifted back to their business, ignoring the two of them almost entirely. Despite the sheer amount of animosity the townsponies had for Sunrise Splendor at this moment in time, almost none of them cared enough to act upon it - except for when her mother brought up something a few of the others felt they really should have, earning a concerned grumble from one of the stallions for revealing their escape plot to a 'traitor'.

Even so, most in the room continued to ignore Sunrise and her mother, that is until the two of them began to get into a heated arguement. Something that was soon joined by one of the mares, who accused her of expecting them to do nothing after she had told them almost exactly that.

"They're on edge as it is!" Sunrise whined. "Especially with the killing that happened today! If we all just calm down and-"

"Killing? What killing?!" A random stallion suddenly interrupted.

Now everyone's eyes were on Sunny once more, who was trying desperately to look for a place to retreat too. It was obvious she had mentioned something she really shouldn’t have.

"What killing, Sunny?" Her mother asked very calmly.

"Yeah, out with it. What killing?" The mare who had instigated this fight shouted.

"It..." Sunny paused, biting her lip as she struggled to find a way to spin this in a way that would not get everyone's hopes up. "It's nothing. It's just... Before I was thrown in here, Vestri went to a blacksmith. Something about getting collars for me or something. But..." Sunny once again paused as she thought. "But the blacksmith was dead."

Silence filled the room as everyone listened intently.

"So they're NOT invincible!" One pony said.

"Hey, HEY!" Sunny shouted angrily, trying to backpedal her way out of the mess she'd just created. "I didn't say anything like that! Besides, it might not even have been a killing. From what I heard, it sounds like natural causes anyway. I mean... I didn't hear much, just that there wasn't any sort of stab wounds or cuts or spells or anything like that."

"... Just like the other one." A mare, who up until now had remained quiet, suddenly muttered.

All attention focused on her now, away from Sunny.

"Other ...one?" Sunny responded shakily.

"Yes. I was... with one of them. He was... having his way... with me." She sniffled. " When... when one of the caribou came in and said something about a death on the edge of town. At..." She sniffed again. "At first they thought it was... wild animals. But then the other one said it wasn't. No bite marks, no blood, no nothing."

"Did you see it?" The stallion close to her spoke softly.

"No." She responded softly. "They threw me in here right before they left to see it themselves. He said that... that... he'd continue after they were done." She burst into tears, throwing herself into the nearest stallion's chest. "Please! I don't wanna go back. Please don't let them take me again!" The stallion wrapped his arms around her, gently rubbing her shoulders and back as she matted his fur with her tears.

"So it wasn't the blacksmith's mare after all." Sunny said to herself, almost immediately biting her lip when she realized that she'd once again thought a little too audibly for her own good.

"What mare?" Another stallion in the crowd responded slowly, his voice carrying with a tone of suspicion and accusation.

Sunrise thought a bit, once again trying to spin this in her mind. Finding none, she gave a defeated sigh. It looked like there was no avoiding this no matter how she would try.

"Ivangir dragged out some mare. Accused her of 'killing' the blacksmith. He said it was going to make her confess some way."

"So even you could figure out that she wasn't behind it, yet you said nothing?!" The same stallion as before shot accusingly.

"Yeah! Way to come to our defense, Sunrise Traitor!" The mare next to him shouted.

"Hey screw you!" Sunrise shouted back bitterly, having finally lost any illusion of restraint or self control, causing her mother to reel away from her own daughter in shock. "What was I supposed to do, talk back to Ivangir and end up in an even worse situation? Besides, I don't recall any of you coming to my aid when they were parading me throughout the streets just before the attack, assholes!"

Within seconds, the entire warehouse was embroiled in a bitter argument from all sides throwing verbal insults and petty arguments back and forth, the shouts and yells bouncing off the walls, the frantic gestures and fist shaking coming just short of physical blows.

What none of them noticed however, was a pair of icy blue eyes opening in a darkened corner of the warehouse, right by the 'secret' door that had been mentioned before this discussion had turned sour. The eye's owner was obscured by the darkness as it watched the scene unfold briefly, giving but a sigh of annoyance before the orbs once again disappeared into the darkness.

Author's Note

Sorry this took so long to release, but unforseen complications caused me to hold this chapter back.