Author's Note

I'm mostly looking for feedback for now. There's more written, but It's unedited and needs a thorough proofreading.

Karma

Slavery. A detestable act to most, but a necessary act for the kingdom. Still, Sniper didn't have to hide his own distaste for the act, his mask took care of that for him. He watched the caravan approach the ornate castle gates at the end of the wide moat, ordering them to remain shut at King Argos's behest. The dragon had need of more manpower to work the farms. It had been a fortunate year for crops, but less so for the king's own unfortunate investments.

The cloaked and masked figure of the royal guard descended from his post, moving to meet the irate slaver guiding the rest of the caribou to halt behind his cart. The horned slaver was aggravated by the interruption, but he knew better than to argue as Sniper directed the test of the royal guard to clear the caravan and search the members before letting them any further into the castle.

"Is this truly necessary?" The slave trader finally spoke up. "They are my retinue and my slaves. I require a certain amount of force to do my work!"

Sniper's response came amidst a slow, practiced exhale as the stale air exited the vent of the bleached white gas mask that hid his disfigured face; the noise came almost as a hiss. "All who enter the castle that are not a trusted member of the royal family or cleared by the king himself are subject to a search and disarmament." He rather plainly replied.

The slaver's nose wrinkled and he sneered. His expression was a mix of disgust and frustration. "I was invited here by the king himself!" The slaver protested once again.

Sniper simply stared at the slaver, ignoring his further protests as the rest of the Royal guard disarmed the slaver's retinue. He couldn't help but smirk beneath his mask as he spotted the curly haired head of the prince approaching from behind the halted caravan. With a quick, practiced motion, the royal guard took a bow and stepped aside as the curly maned prince repeated the gesture, directing the gate to be opened.

"Fourth cart, crooked horn and wearing an eyepatch." The prince whispered as the two met, hiding his voice amongst the the noisy racket of the strained gates gears turning.

The short exchange told Sniper all he needed to know; Which member of the caravan to abduct and silence, retrieve the keys to the carts from, and dispose the body of through the kitchen.
Sure, slaves are cheap, but freshly freed ones working to repay their gratitude were a far more cost effective option. Especially so when the king had to barely lift a finger, or more accurately, a claw.

The dragon watched with bemusment as the pair of snakeoil merchants sought to convince the king of their newest product. They had lost him somewhere during their demonstration of thier naturally armoring scale oil. He knew the product was a sham the moment he spotted the gambesson slip from under the taller of the twin's dress shirt. Still, Argos was content to let them continue the charade as he idly gnawed the caribou bone he was picking his teeth with. The former owner of said morsel had proven much more entertaining, though the king had an incredibly severe dislike of caribou... the flavor however, he quite thoroughly enjoyed. When it came time for the pair of frauds to finish their pitch, the dragon was distracted with picking a particularly irritating morsel of flesh from his teeth, courtesy of his last meal.

Oh they pleaded and they begged when the dragon called them out on the blatant ruse. First seeking to convince the dragon it was a mere trick of the light, or his sight had gone off in his older years, each excuse more insulting than the last. When they pleaded for their miserable lives was the more enjoyable part. They claimed to have starving families to feed, they always did. They attempted bribery, which always failed. They finally tried to appeal to Argod's sense of morality and the good karma letting them free would be, which was a new one to the draconic king.

Unfortunately, the dragon had a rather different view of things. Perhaps it was karma that brought the hapless pair here. Had they not cheated so many before, karma may have lead them elsewhere. Who was he to deprive karma of it's rightful justice? After all, he was only a mere dragon, and he had plenty of room for dessert...

The deed finished, Argos decided to retire to his quarters for the day. He paused to wipe a messy, gore-stained claw on the corner of a previously pristine white tapestry. It was a war trophy from a past conquest, a victory the king remembered well. He had recognized the first of his bastard princes that day.

Prince Curls made for a poor tactician and general, but the dragon was not above praising the young stallion for his invaluable eye for detail and nigh obsessive map making. The cartography inclined prince had stumbled upon a rebel knight camp during his expedition to map out a valley near to one of the dragons expeditionary forces. The brigands thought the prince to be a poor traveling land surveyor, and not a member of a powerful royal family. Curls was treated as family, and to a night of drunken revelry and sex; during which the young stallion had found himself treated to the more masculine sort- and the submissive one, no less. He was used as the camp slut for a week, but eventually escaped with the help of a young, rebellious mare named Corkscrew, whom insisted upon joining the prince as a member of his own staff. Upon their escape and subsequent return with the king's forces, Argos haphazardly let the prince take charge of the attack. The leadership role was soon commandeered by Corkscrew. Directing the Draconic forces through the narrow passes with the help of maps provided by Prince Curls. The two ponies celebrated their victory with a long night of passionate sex atop the fallen warlords banner. At least, that's what the common folk believe; in truth, the prince found himself unable to get it up for the mare, and Corkscrew thoroughly unsatisfied but greatly amused. Argos had put the tapestry up as a bit of a joke, one that made Prince Curls blush every time he saw it.