Chapter 1

Watching the towering sandstone mesas dotted amongst the terrain pass whilst you were on the train had been the most interesting part of your journey so far. You were heading to a frontier town named Appleloosa as part of a group of ponies sent from Princess Celestia’s court on a diplomatic mission. The purpose of this mission was to attempt to snuff out violence that had been escalating once more between the townsfolk and a local buffalo tribe since the town had started to grow.

Nopony from the town had so far been able to work out what was causing the new spate of unrest, as no diplomat had been brave enough to even consider re-starting some sort of contact with the savages since the Elements of Harmony had visited the town last and almost sparked all out war. In the six months since the elements’ visit, there had been rumours about lawless bandits seeking out the buffalo, quite literally hunting them looking for a fight. With Appleloosa now being the biggest town on the frontier, it was safe to suggest that they would be staying there.

This was where you came in; you had orchestrated diplomatic solutions with many of the realm’s enemies before, including talking the current leader of the gryphon clans into an almost profitable peace treaty. With you was a small contingent of her Majesty’s own guards, the gruff looking Captain sucking at a pipe with the eyes behind his helmet closed, seemingly asleep. He was usually partially responsible for the personal safety of the Princesses as a member of the elite personal guard, but for some reason he had been chosen to lead this specific excursion.

You knew of course that should anything happen during the journey he would snap into action, barking orders to his comrades whilst doing his best to protect you, the Ambassador. The white stallion snorted, his eyes opening half way and he skilfully tapped the ash from the pipe out of the open window.

Eventually, the train pulled into the station at Appleloosa and stopped with a jolt, the huge earth ponies at the front having allowed the front carriage to slam into a rusty spring based stopping system after trying to slow them down as best they possibly could. You heard the Captain curse loudly, the pencil held between his teeth tearing through the note pad he had been writing a letter to his sweetheart on since having woken up.

You’d offered to scribe the letter for him, as a unicorn you were far more used to writing and the potential content of his letter didn’t really bother you, despite the gruff demeanour of the earth pony. Sighing and tucking away the note book for now, he rose to his hooves and began waking up the rest of his unit. As the other soldiers woke, there wasn’t as much swearing as you had expected and as the group moved single file down the centre of the carriage, you could see into the town through the windows.

You stretch just a tiny bit too far on exiting the train, gravity completing your step as the gap between carriage and paving was slightly larger than you had expected. Bringing your head back up from watching your step, your sight is filled by the vision of the bustling small town before you. The roads were nothing more than the arid dust of the desert for miles around, but you could see the tips of trees around a hill that presumably led to the contested valley in the background. Ponies of all types flooded the streets going about their lives and you were addressed sharply whilst lost in the vision of wooden houses and saloons.

“Ah guess you’re them city slickers sent to try and deal with the buffalo.” said a slightly imposing coffee coloured stallion, nudging his red-banded black stetson hat further back on his head with a hoof. Every word caused the thick black mustache on his face to wobble slightly and if it hadn’t been for the grave situation of the matter you had been sent to discuss, you’d have probably cracked a slight smile. The Captain had been watching you, waiting impatiently for you to introduce yourself before speaking up.

“Yes. Her Majesty informed us that you’ve been having renewed trouble with the buffalo, even though your trade deal for food seemed to have stopped the problem. Did our request for accommodation make it here with the last D-mail?”

“Sure did. Ah’m still getting used to it myself, don’t feel right being able to get a letter the day after it was written in Canterlot. You soldier types are being put up at the local cathouse; we’ve asked the madam to tell one of the girls to bunk up with her friend. Mr Ambassador here will be staying in a room above the Salt Block.”

You see the Captain do the first nervous thing you’d ever seen him do in your years at court, nudging at a necklace hanging over his armour, holding a picture of a magenta coloured mare, with his hoof.

“I’m not comfortable staying in a brothel; I’m to be married soon. Ambassador, I’ll be taking your lodgings.”

You nod in agreement, not wanting to aggravate the tall and slightly scary armoured stallion. You were admittedly a bit unsure as to what a brothel was, you obviously knew the meaning of the word, but was it really as bad as the books you had read? More to the point, weren’t they illegal? You clear your throat before asking, getting a laugh from the Sheriff, which in turn caused the Captain to snort disapprovingly. You could see his anger begin to surface and suggest that the group of you move on. With the Sheriff out of earshot explaining the sights of the town to the other soldiers in the group, the Captain lowers his head to your ear before speaking in a hushed manner;

“Her Majesty is very aware that such misgivings and more are happening in this town and that is something that I will be dealing with. For now your job is to deal with the buffalo, not to play politics with the abusive bastards that run this town. Stay with the other guards, I’ll look after myself.”

The Captain is dropped off at the saloon and the rest of the group continue to an extravagant looking red-painted wooden house. It appeared to be stretched over close to five floors and piano music could be heard coming from the bottom floor windows, the occasional loud giggle bursting from windows further up the building.

You notice a slightly strange smell as you enter the building, the musky scent of sweat formed from countless immoral activities filling your nostrils, mixed with the sweeter smell of perfume used to try and mask such sin. You pass the occasional mare exiting various rooms of the establishment, many in dresses similar to those you had seen in books about the town in the royal library, their manes held up in a manner that used a technique you didn’t think you’d be able to emulate even with help.

The group of you are eventually led to one room of the establishment holding a huge four poster bed, which is soon taken by the sergeant; the lower ranking members of the squad taking positions on the floor, mats from their saddlebags being unrolled on the carpeted floor. As the ambassador, you were given a chaise longue in the corner; for a little more privacy you drag a set of ornate folding screens in front of it as you are tossed the blanket from the end of the sergeant’s bed.

Whilst the squad discuss the idea of going down to the Salt Block for a drink you think about having a wander around the town; hoping to see some of the sights you had missed out on when the Captain had been talking to you before he left. Deciding you’d rather not have to hang around with the soldiers (who were undoubtedly a bit too much for you, you usually being the quiet bookish type) you make an excuse about needing some air and quietly and quickly try to slip out of the cathouse un-noticed.

Hoping to get back to the station where you had begun the tour with Silverstar, you follow the street down past the Salt Block. You pass a pair of brown-coated stallions and over-hear them discussing pie dishes; one offering his friend “Fillion” his prized dish, affectionately named Vera, in exchange for the contact details of Fillion’s ex-wife.

Chuckling as you pass them, you see a strangely familiar rusty coloured stallion stride out of the door of the Salt-Block wearing a poncho, matched with a dragon-leather Stetson hat. As you pass, you’re sure you see a golden eye wink at you before he disappears into the crowd. Deciding not to dwell on your curiosity of the un-named stranger, you keep walking down the street; looking at different buildings until you reach a blacksmiths shop.

You can’t seem to remember the way past there and choose to take the alley next to it to try and get to the next road on the other side of the row of buildings. Entering the alley you see two stallions, a unicorn and an earth pony, that block your path and force you against a wall as a third member of their group, a Pegasus, growls at you in a deep and cracked voice.

“We don’t appreciate no damned city boys comin’ here to change thangs.” He kicks you, managing to catch your underside with his front hoof, causing you to fall to the ground. “Now stay down.”

Not certain of what is going on and reeling slightly, you stupidly stand up. This was obviously a bad idea as you feel something jabbed with some force into your side, feeling your skin split, pain roaring from the wound as you fall again, bleeding heavily. You see the spattered face of the unicorn who had stabbed you grin as the three of them trot off down the alley calmly.
As the pain becomes too much to bear, you feel yourself lifted from the dusty ground of the alley. Your eyes gently close and you slip into the sweet dreamless embrace of unconsciousness.

“BRAEBURN! Hold him still darn it!”

“Sorry Sweeney, I’m tryin’, he’s just thrashin’ so...”

“Sweeney, what’s the prognosis?”

“His organs are alright Smithy, but I can’t get in to stitch the artery... We’re going to have to cauterize it instead, let the other vessels nearby take the strain. Something about the size of a pencil should do the job; get it as hot as possible.”

Cauterize? You know that word... What did it mean again? Your fuzzily returning vision shows a bright orange spark held in glowing pincers being lowered to your stomach.

“Just there, you see it? BRAEBURN FOR THE LAST TIME HOLD HIM STILL!”

Ah, yes, that’s what that word meant.

You scream.

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