"The Other Side" Chapter 12- Discoveries

"What the buck?!" Applejack blurted out, aghast at the scene laid out before her. It was not something she had expected, to say the least.

"Hey, watch your language, sis!" Apple Bloom said, looking slightly irritated, which only seemed to make Applejack angry. The orange pony scowled at her sister, who then backed up and pressed against the side of the shed, suddenly aware of her sister's anger.

"What're you doing to Dylan?!" Scootaloo nervously hid the leather strap behind her back, a sheepish expression washing over her face.

"Oh, uh... we were just... uh..." The look on Scootaloo's face betrayed her guilt; there was no doubt what she was just about to do.

"THEY WRPH GUNNH SPHNK MHH!" Dylan rolled over, his eyes staring at Applejack's with incredulous surprise. He began to worm his way towards the door, but Sweetie Belle put a hoof down on his shoulder, pinning him in place.

"She was just playing a game with us!"

Dylan growled and his eyes filled up with a burning annoyance. His voice was frustrated and desperate. "I'M NHHT A GHRRL!!!! I HFF A DHHK!!! WHNNA SEE?!" He stared up at the young unicorn, his disagreement to her last statement unmistakable. She looked down at him, blushed, and looked back up at Applejack.

"Ain't any kinda game Ah've ever seen! Untie 'im, right now!"

Apple Bloom looked at her sister, nervously trying to reason with her. "B-but he's a monster! He tried to eat us!"

"DHHD NHT!"

Applejack looked at her sibling with impatience, her voice full of weariness. Her words were slow and deliberate. "He's mah friend... He'd never do any such thing." She looked at Dylan, who smiled with his eyes, as his mouth was currently obstructed from view. She returned the gesture of affection with her own. Scootaloo moved her gaze nervously from Applejack to Dylan, her face now uncertain. "Wait, he was actually telling the truth?" Dylan nodded, his expression changing from happiness to frustration. "YSSH! NH TKH THSH DHMN GHG OFF!"
Sweetie Belle's magic pulled the gag off of Dylan's face, then dropped it to the floor. She shamefully looked down at her hooves. "Someone untie so I can pull my pants up... My ass is hangin' out like Bruce Willis."

***

Twilight opened the book, which had a strange symbol on the first page; It was a pointed ring, inside which were a series of spirals that overlapped and crossed each other; inside these were strange symbols, which were angular and drawn in a scratched fashion.

The symbols appeared to be words, but they were of a language that Twilight had never encountered before. This was both odd and unnerving to Twilight, as she knew every language in Equestria. She looked again at the symbols, frowning in concentration. She turned the page with her telekinetic magic. She brushed back her mane with a hoof, then looked at the text on the worn, yellowed paper.

If you are reading this, it means that you are one of the few that will ever know of what I am about to reveal to you.

What I know of the 'Old Ones' is very minuscule, but what I do is intriguing to say the least. They disappeared from all Equestrian records roughly a millennia ago, and there are no existing records before or since, as far as I am aware. They apparently surpassed even our great nation's size and power, as unbelievable a that might sound. The Old Ones had acquired an uneasy reputation with early Equestria, but I am uncertain as to why. The remaining text is almost undecipherable, and any spell I have attempted to conjure was unsuccessful in translating it.

I know this sounds strange, but I am not exactly 'when' I'm supposed to be.

If you can discover any information about the Old Ones that I have not already, it is of the greatest importance that the Princesses hear of it as quickly as possible. The ramifications of such knowledge are of the direst significance, and should be revealed only to Luna or Celestia herself. The security of our great nation depends on it!

The blood of greatness runs where the nighttime is most brilliant.

~Starswirl the Bearded.

Twilight gaped at the book before her, falling backwards in her chair. It slammed to the ground, causing her head to throb with the impact, her brain shaking in her skull. The pain was nothing compared to the awe that she felt.

To her, this was a holy artifact; Starswirl the Bearded was among the greatest magic users of all time, and she was in possession of one of his hoof-written books. She simply could not believe it.

Oh my goodness... This is... This is HIS! Sweet Celestia, this is absolutely bucking amazing! How did I even get this?! I don't remember seeing this in the Canterlot Archives...

The unicorn mare stood up and practically threw her fallen chair out of the way. She had to read more. She needed to read more. She flipped to the next page, completely unsure of what she would read next. The next page was covered in those same angular runes, but with scribbled words underneath them. This page read:

Du Solamei un Mhukan un Dharakeq h'wei tyrartus ahvel uuv adha. Tver haaf dehgladh varra utna ahvel uuv Thropas-kayin. Vei vahl fveita tun du morta. Dheiwae haela adha.

"What... What language is this?!" Twilight looked down at the bottom of the page, where more words had been hastily written.

I have only translated a few of the words. Here is the list:
Tyrtartus= Betrayed
Adha= Us
Dehgladh= Declared
Varra= War
Ahvel= All
Fveita= Fight
Morta= Death

If any of this is to be understood, it is that the Old Ones were betrayed by someone, and war ensued. This might be the reason that the Old Ones are not present in Equestria. Who started the war, and why? I must continue my research./

Twilight continued to read through the remaining pages, which all had the ancient runes on them. However, Starswirl's annotations stopped abruptly. The reason for this was terrifyingly obvious; the last page with annotations was splattered with blood. The red droplets were not consistent with a slow drip, but rather with a violent spray. Twilight half-screamed and half-gasped, her face a mask of horror. She almost knocked over the table in her haste to get away from the source of her fear. The last line on the page read:

I do not have much time. I have found the reason that the Old Ones disappeared; Discord a-

The penmanship of the 'A' looked as if the quill had slipped, dragging downwards and off of the page. The blood almost made the text unreadable, but it was just barely legible. Twilight grabbed the book and turned as she fled the room. She ran. She didn't stop until she was out of the library and heading straight for the Everfree Forest.

***

The clicking of canine paws and avian talons echoed forebodingly off the stone floor as Scabs lead the griffons deep into the diamond dog fortress.

Whenever the griffons arrived at the fortress or sent the diamond dogs a message, it meant that there was serious business to deal with; either that, or Tanning was here to visit Gilda, who was in charge of collecting 'protection' money from Ponyville. Either way, Scabs was shivering and shaking in fear at the griffons behind him, who were twice his size; and in the case of Tanning and his lieutenant, three times. It was assuredly not easy to stay calm when a dozen well-armed criminals were breathing down your neck. Being an outlaw like himself did nothing to make Scabs any more confident; it only made him more certain of the danger a few steps behind him.

Scabs and the griffons passed by two large wooden barricades, with one barricade on each side of the passage. There were slits in the barricades through which peered anxious canine faces. The guards behind the walls shifted uneasily as the griffons passed, hefting their crossbows and staring in comprehending anticipation. They only nodded to Scabs, giving no other clue as to their notice of him.
There were many more fortifications like these as the group continued, and all of the guards reacted in the same way: unease.

Scabs and the Griffons passed by a large, reinforced wooden door, which had the word 'storeroom' on it in messy white paint. Next to the storeroom was a cluttered and filthy kitchen, where a corpulent Doberman with a giant cleaver -more than three feet long- was chopping and hacking away at the corpse of an unidentified animal. He wore an apron that was covered in blood, and his face wore a maniacal grin as he butchered the meat before him. Blood spattered in all different directions, leading the griffons to believe that the 'chef' was the reason that the kitchen was so incredibly dirty. Every so often he would scrape the chunks of meat into a bowl next to him. A ball of brownish-black fur on two legs -which presumably was a dog- stared at the bowl with a hungry look, then walked over to a large cooking fire and laid the cuts of flesh on an iron grill sitting over the flames. The smell of cooking meat was overpowering, and Scabs was starting to drool, but thenhe remembered who exactly he was leading into the fortress. He shook himself out of his hungry stupor and continued on his way to his pack leader. The two dogs in the kitchen glanced at the group for a moment, then went quickly back to their work.

"I see you dogs have... improved security since we last were here." These words came from the largest griffon, who looked up at small alcoves in the cavern walls high above, where more fortifications were positioned. Even more guards with bows, slings, javelins, and other projectile weapons were looking down at the thirteen figures walking past them. "Oh yeah, Bregan. The door was really secure. I feel so safe right now." Turvehk sneered this, shaking his head in dissaproval. "If one of those... /things/... decides to come up from the caverns... it's definitely not going hungry." After Turvehk had finished speaking, one of the smaller griffons began to talk. He was short and thin, and he had a large bag slung over his shoulder. The telltale clinking of coins could be heard from inside. He was obviously the one in charge of handling the group's money. "Wh-what things?! I didn't hear about any things in the caverns!" It was obvious that he was scared, and from the looks that he was receiving from his fellows, he was also a new addition to the group. He gripped a spiked wooden club which hung at his waist, nervously looking at the one-eyed griffon sharpshooter. "You see, Devinn, my dickless friend, there are... well-" Bregan interrupted Turvehk, elbowing the smaller griffon slightly in his stomach. Turvehk grunted, turned to Bregan, and scowled. "Darkstalkers. Big things, hunt in the dark, kill, then vanish with no trace. Teeth like knives, bone plates over their bodies, razor sharp tail-blades; killing machines. Everything's scared of them, except us griffons." Tanning laughed, which sounded more like a growl than anything. This caused most of the griffons to flinch slightly, and Scabs to literally jump half a foot into the air. The griffon leader pulled back a cloth covering on one of his arms, grinning proudly. "Thisss iss what they did to me... one of them took my arm."

In the place of Tanning's arm was an intricate network of metal and stone, along which was laid a handful of gems, which glowed faintly of bizarre magic. It moved a little too gracefully for something made out of what it was, but that surely had something to do with the magic coursing through it.
It was fashioned in the form of a talon, with four bladed claws in the same pattern as a griffon's own talons. The digits flexed, curling in on themselves and moving in a dexterous show of movement. "The bassstard looked pretty sssure of himssself... that iss... until I ssshoved my sssword through hisss open mouth." Tanning pulled his falchion out of his scabbard and made a gruesome thrusting motion in the air, his mouth gritted in a bloodthirsty scowl. He turned the blade over in his hand, running one of his artificial talons along its edge with admiration. The rest of the group, except for Bregan, was completely unaware of this part of Tanning's history. Bregan simply nodded and looked like he was remembering the moment. He spoke up after a few moments of contemplation. "Aye. And you killed a few more, if I remember right. I crushed quite a few Darkstalker skulls myself." He laid one of his talons hands on the haft of his morningstar, to which Tanning nodded and grinned wickedly. Scabs went cold, the talk about the Darkstalkers already making him scared. He had been outside, and the griffons could have just as easily been the Darkstalkers. He just continued walking.

They passed by the sleeping quarters, the training room, more storerooms, latrines, a workshop and finally wound up near the mines. The sounds of digging could be heard, interspersed with yelling and the cracking of whips. Scabs could smell the blood and the sweat in the air, putrid and foul. He placed a paw over his nose as they entered the mine tunnels. They passed ponies dragging mining carts full of gems, ores and precious stones. There were a few diamond dog guards with whips and clubs watching the ponies intently, blankly staring at them. There were ponies with picks and shovels excavating the hard earth, growling and grunting with exertion. These ponies were watched more closely than the others, as they possessed a weapon that could easily be turned against them. The guards watching these ponies had crossbows and spears with which to keep their distance. They seemed angrier than the other guards for some reason which Scabs could not understand.

In the middle of the current mining area stood a gigantic diamond dog in chainmail armor, over which was a red surcoat; a mouthful of gnashing, black canine teeth in front of two crossed axes. On his head was a large steel helm with superimposed metal teeth and jaws. It had a plume of black hair atop it to signify his rank. He wore a cape of bear fur, which looked like it had been hacked off of the ursid's carcass quite brutally. He was holding a double-headed great axe in one hand, bracing it against the ground. He did not lean on it; he stood tall and proud, sweeping his gaze across the workings of the miners. In his other hand was a whip, which he cracked over the heads of workers or guards alike when their work grew slack. He was a Rottweiler, and Rottweilers were known for their brutality and ferocity. It was no surprise that the slaves working under him were intimidated by his fearsome looks.

Scabs was sweating and shaking as he walked up to the armored figure and saluted. "R-Rex... ya've got some visitors t' see y-" The head of the giant Rottweiler turned to look at the frightened face of Scabs, who looked as if he was about to wet himself. The back of Rex's gloved hand struck across the greyhound's face, causing Scabs to stumble backwards and fall to the muck. "IT'S TASKMASTER REX, YOU FILTHY MONGREL! Now get up and try that again..." Scabs obeyed and stood up. He was covered in dirt and dust, and he was bleeding from his mouth, but he still tried to salute as dignifiedly as he could. "T-Taskmaster Rex... Sir... There's some'un who needs t' talk t' the boss... " Rex snarled through his crooked teeth and grabbed Scabs by the collar of his jerkin, pulling his face close to his. "Nobody talks to the boss! NOBODY EXCEPT ME! WHERE'S THE SLIMY PIECE OF SHIT WHO WANTS T-" Rex was cut off by Tanning's artificial fist slamming into the front of his helm. The metal bent and deformed with the impact, sending sounds of screeching steel echoing through the mines. All the guards tensed and turned as one to look at Rex, who was stumbling backwards. "Sssay that again, and I'll sssslit your fucking throat, you ssssack of filth." Tanning opened his scarred and twisted beak to hiss these words at the diamond dog taskmaster. His falchion now rested just under Rex's helm, the blade sitting lightly on his vulnerable neck. The sound of weapons being drawn came from every direction in the mine; both the griffons and the diamond dogs looked as if they were about to kill each other. Rex simply stared at the griffon holding a blade to his throat. Rex looked like his eyes were about to literally explode out of his skull with the amount of anger that was clearly on his face. His fingers tightened on his axe expectantly. He was about to try and turn Tanning into another fine pelt for his gruesome collection. He was interrupted by a sickening voice; it was the pack leader, Rover. "What the fucking hell is going on in here?!" Everyone in the mine turned as one to the sound of the voice, locking their eyes on the newly arrived figure.

Rover looked considerably different since he had encountered those 'insufferable ponies' a year ago. His now well-developed muscles tensed, twisting and flexing as he walked. His face was obscured by a pointed-faced steel helm with a gold plume flowing from atop it. His plate-mail armor was adorned with all manner of valuable materials; from gold and silver, to rubies and sapphires. At his belt was a longsword, which looked like it had been crafted by a master smith. His black and gold cape rippled behind him; the image of a snarling golden dog's head embroidered into the fabric. He looked utterly furious at the spectacle before him, scowling in disgust and disappointment.

"Rex! Damn you! Don't you know who you've got ready to slit your throat?! Have you no respect for your allies, you spineless traitor?!"

Rex looked like he was more scared of the pack leader than the blade at his throat. "Alpha! I... I have made a mistake! Lower your weapons!" The diamond dogs slowly and reluctantly let their weapons drop to their sides.

"Yesss you have, ssscum. On your fucking kneesss..." Tanning said, his face twisting in an evil smile. Rex simply looked at Rover, who nodded with a hint of confusion on his face.
Rex got down on his knees and swallowed nervously. "Remove your helmet." Rex pulled the slightly crushed piece of armor, letting it rest in the crook of his arm. "Good." Tanning sheathed his falchion, the blade rasping back into its resting place. He then quickly grabbed the Rottweiler by the back of his head and thrust it downwards into the muck. His face was shoved into a muddy, filth-stained pool of water. He thrashed and struggled for a few moments as he began to feel the air leaving his lungs. They began to burn and sting, and began to feel the last of his life leaving him. A split second later his face was pulled out of the pool to look up at Tanning. He gasped for breath, coughing and spluttering as he struggled to regain his breath. "Drink it up, little puppy. Drink... It... Up..." Tanning shoved his face back down, but just enough so that he could breathe. He reluctantly began to swallow the foul water and felt bits of disgusting debris washing down his throat. Rex coughed uncontrollably, convulsing and hacking his lungs out. All of a sudden, he vomited explosively into the water, his face a mask of total shame and disgust. Tanning released his grip on the taskmaster's head and turned to Rover. "Now... On to busssinesss..."

***

Applejack and Dylan were in the barn when Applejack blushed and rubbed at her neck with a hoof.
"Sorry bout' what happened back there, sugar..." Applejack said, looking at Dylan with an apologetic expression. He simply smiled and shrugged. "Ah, s'not so bad. They're just kids, it's not like they knew any better." Applejack frowned, looking down at her hooves. "That's no way t' treat one a' mah friends." Dylan looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Well, you've got them doin' all kinds of extra work on the farm. Ain't that enough? I mean, what are you gonna do? Spank- Oh... Uh... Never mind..." The two friends migrated from the barn to the rows of apple trees growing on the farm. "Maybe I should be getting to work now?" Dylan looked at Applejack with a grin on his face, happy that Applejack wasn't too mad with the fillies. "Uh... I don't think ah've got any work fer' y'all... Well... Nothing a human kin' handle, anyways." Applejack said this in a tone that indicated that she wished he could handle it. Dylan, on the other hand, knew that he could. "Pfft... I can do any work that Big Mac can do, trust me." The unsure expression coming from underneath the brim of Applejack's hat was testament to her doubt of Dylan's capabilities. "Are... Are you sure, sugar?" Dylan put his hands on his hips, looking straight into Applejack's eyes. "I can take it, trust me." She knew in her heart that she did. She trusted the human more than she trusted herself. "Ah... Ah do trust you. You're mah' friend, Dylan, don't forget it." He put a hand on her shoulder and looked into her eyes. "I won't."

Dylan was lead by Applejack to the spot where Big Macintosh was working. He was pulling a large plow behind him, cutting through the hard-packed soil. He was strong, but not strong enough that he didn't look tired or strained. The muscles in his neck and shoulders were throbbing; the amount of strength that he was using to pull the plow was considerable, and a less muscular pony wouldn't be able to move the plow at all. Beside the plow that Mac was using was another of its kind, the harness lying on the ground next to it.

"As y'all can see, we're plannin' on growin' more apple trees here. You can help by harnessin' me to that there plow." Dylan nodded and walked over to where the harness lay. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. "Okay, Dylan, Ah'm ready." Applejack stood in front of the plow and looked back at her red-haired friend. He smiled and somewhat embarrassedly began to put the harness on Applejack. She chuckled and gave him a playful look. "Ah don't bite, Sugar. Ain't nothin' t' be embarrassed about." Dylan chuckled too as he ran his hand through his hair, still bashful as he did the clips and secured the harness on Applejack's belly. "I know that, AJ. But... You do kick." Applejack rolled her eyes and laughed quietly, then stretched her neck, trying to adjust herself into the harness. "It's not like us females are some kinda mysterious creatures or somethin'." At this, Big Mac turned and looked at Dylan with a big grin on his face. Dylan returned Mac's grin with a goofy smile of his own, then looked back at Applejack.

"What're you two smilin' about?" Dylan snickered, trying and failing to suppress his amusement. "Naw, naw. Females are sure easy to understand. Ain't that right, Mackie boy?" Big Mac nodded in response, trying to suppress a laugh of his own. He hid his amusement a lot better than Dylan, who was now holding his stomach and trying not to break out in full-on hysterics. Applejack giggled and shook her head, then began to pull the plow. It barely even moved. She looked at the ground behind her, frowning at the large metal blade she was pulling behind her. "Goshdarnit, confounded thing ain't workin' right." Dylan scratched his head. "It's a big piece of metal. How can it not work right?" Applejack huffed in frustration, trying to undo her harness unsuccessfully. Dylan rushed to help her, pulling off the harness so she could walk around to see what the problem was. After a moment of looking at the plow, she knew what it was; the earth was almost completely petrified where she was pulling.

Her expression changed to one of disappointment, then frustration. She went back to the front of the plow. "Hook me back up." She said this with a determined look in her eyes. Dylan looked at her green eyes for moment, then quickly re-fastened the harness to her. She lowered her head, then pulled as hard as she could. The blade moved, but Applejack looked like she was straining herself, pulling muscles and tendons alike. She gritted her teeth and gasped as she fell to the ground in pain. Dylan scrambled to get to her side and unhook her from the plow. "You're gonna get yourself killed! Why the hell would you try that?!" Applejack looked at him, his concern obvious as it poured from his ocean blue eyes. "I... I jus... NGGGH!" Applejack grunted in pain; it was clear that she had injured herself trying to pull the plow through the cruelly hard soil. Her eyes were watering, glistening in the sunlight. "Mac! Help! Applejack's hurt!" The red working stallion turned and threw his harness off in an instant. He ran to his sister's side, who was holding her stomach and groaning painfully. "Sis, you overdid it." Big Mac kneeled and began to look Applejack over. She cringed and tried to look like she wasn't in any pain as Big Mac checked on her. Dylan looked at the plow and snarled soundlessly at the hard ground. He walked up to the farming equipment in question and stood there for a moment. "What's wrong with me, Mac? How did Ah- Dylan, what in tarnation are you doing over there?"
Dylan slowly wrapped his hands around the wooden part of the plow and braced his legs. "Aw, no! Mac, Stop him!" Big Mac turned and looked at Dylan. He looked right back at him with a confident smile, then nodded. Big Mac smiled back and looked back at his sister. "Just watch." Applejack stared in concern, her eyes brimming with nervous doubt. Dylan whispered to himself, closing his eyes for a moment and bowing his head. "Lord... give me strength." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he yelled and shoved the plow with all of his might.

For a second, it seemed as though nothing would happen and Dylan would only hurt himself like Applejack. But, as if by a miracle, the plow began to cut and tear through the earth as Dylan yelled again, pushing the blade along with renewed vigor. The plow split chunks of petrified earth like they were nothing, Dylan's legs now moving at a full run. He was leaning his shoulders into the plow and screaming out in satisfaction. "WOOOOOHOOOOO! YIPPIE-KAY-AY, MOTHERFUUUUUUUUCKER!"

When he was finished, he returned to the two siblings, who had taken refuge under one of their apple trees. Applejack looked at Dylan in amazement once more, stunned once again at something she didn't think possible. Big Mac simply smiled and nodded. "Told ya' I could do it." Mac turned to him and did what he always did. "Eeyup."

***

"Ssso... How isss the operation proccceeding?" Tanning was sitting at a long table in what appeared to be a meeting room. The room was cluttered with various maps, charts, documents, and ledgers. "We have excavated more of the caves, as planned. We've found /quite/ the haul of gems and ores down in the deeps." Bregan, who was sitting next to Tanning, and across the table from Rover, spoke. "But they're not the /only/ things you found /down there/, are they?" The large griffon stroked his beak with the tip of a claw, looking down at the diamond dog. Rover's helmet sat on the table in front of him, which he was looking at admiringly. He looked up fearfully and nervously at the mention of 'not the only things'. Rover scratched the back of his head and began looking down at the table."Well... No. There were... well-" He was cut off sharply by Tanning, who hissed and looked right at the pack leader. "Darksssstalkersssss...." Tanning's claws dug into the table, his artificial ones leaving large ruts in the wood. "W-we... Lost a couple guards, and a slave or two, but-" He was interrupted again, this time by Turvehk. "Oh. That's right, caves are completely safe. Nothing dangerous at all in them... Why the fuck didn't you call the rest of your pack back to the fortress so you could hunt them down?"

Rover's fortress just over thirty of his pack, but that was far from how many he had under his command. There were at least a half-dozen outposts scattered throughout the tunnels, along with the above-ground teams gathering supplies. In all, there were eighty or more diamond dogs under Rover's command. Combined with Tanning's twelve elite griffons, they made a force that was not to be trifled with.

"Because every time we do, the damn things just vanish into the fucking dark! We can't kill them fast enough at this rate." Bregan looked at Rover with a curious twinkle in his aging grey eyes. "How many have you killed?" Rover looked down into an empty goblet sitting next to his helmet; it had once held wine. "Four... SLAVE! MORE WINE, YOU WRETCH!" Rover's yelling was quickly responded by the sound of hooves clicking on the stone floor. A grey pony with a black mane approached Rover carrying a jug. His mane had a peculiar white stripe running down it, indicating some zebra ancestry in his family. His cutie mark was a yin-yang symbol with chains on the outside of the circle. He had an angry look on his face, which he was using to carry the jug of wine. He held it between his teeth and poured it into Rover's cup. The pony was watched closely by a tall diamond dog with a pair of rapiers hanging off of his belt. He wore a black leather coat with metal plates sewn into vulnerable places on his body. Along with the coat, he wore a leather hood of the same fashion, metal plates also protecting his head. His fur was black, and he stared at the pony with cold and uncaring yellow eyes. He looked like he was more wolf than dog, which was most prominent in the way he stood; straight and completely still. The only thing that moved were his eyes, which tracked the grey pony's every move.

Tanning looked from the slave-pony and back to Rover. He narrowed his gaze, letting his red eyes bore deep into the diamond dog's own. "It sssseemsss that you might need our help... again." Rover gulped nervously; the prospect of owing even more to the griffon scared him. The griffons had already proved their skill once before; eight of Tanning's warriors had killed twenty of his pack with no losses when they first encountered the griffons on the surface.
"Well, the point is we got what we were looking for." Rover picked up the goblet and took a large swig of its contents, licking his lips and shrugging. "How much did you get?" Devinn said, a sparkling look of greed in his gaze.

The money counter of the griffons was known for his ability to judge an object's value almost flawlessly. He also had a habit of helping himself to the coin from time to time. Tanning tolerated his light-fingered theft, as long as the small griffon stayed away from his share, which was half of the total profit. Bregan's share was a further quarter of the profits, and the remaining money was shared equally among the other griffons.

"I'll show you what we found this week." Rover smiled proudly, looking quite sure of himself in his own arrogant way. "SLAVE! BRING IN THE CHEST!" The grey pony looked at Rover for a moment with confusion in his eyes. Rover growled and shook his head in anger. "NOT YOU, TRASH! THE BIG ONE!" A low rumble was heard from outside the room, along with a clunk of metal and wood bumping against something hard. The plodding of heavy footfalls could be clearly heard, along with the clinking of a lock. The door swung open and every griffon literally jumped out of their seats, reaching for their weapons. What stood in the doorway was massive, nearly two times Bregan's size. It had thick, matted fur, under which lay muscles strong enough to break a tree clean in half. Its mouth was bristling with thick, wide teeth, and its eyes were black orbs that stared and gazed at the figures around it. Every guard in the room turned and faced it, weapons at the ready. They seemed less shocked than the griffons, though. It was a troll.

"WHAT IN THE NINE HELLSSSSS ISSS THAT THING DOING HERE?!" Tanning roared, his falchion ready to strike at the new arrival to the meeting room. The troll was carrying a large chest, which had an enormous lock hanging off the front of it. The troll was wearing a suit and top hat, which we're worn away into mere shadows of what they had once been. The large chains around the troll's ankles and wrists rattled softly as it came to a stop. Rover laughed, while his bodyguard stood next to him, still as a statue except for his eyes, which watched the troll with vicious sharpness. "That'd be my new pet. Quite a strong one, isn't he?" Rover intertwined his fingers and smiled at Tanning cockily. The troll put the chest down on the floor and backed up a few steps. Rover stood and moved up to the lock, pulled a key from around his neck and opened the chest. What was inside was a cache of jewels and precious metals larger and more impressive than anything the griffons had ever seen. "One week." Rover said proudly, holding up a lawful of treasure, the stones and metals glinting in the torchlight. "And there's plenty more where these came from..."