Celestia blushed as she read the raunchy details of her sister's bedroom adventure with an unknown stallion. The mare was a foot taller than Luna, and her curves even more generous, but mostly due to her love of sweet breads. She was still fit, but had a healthy bit of pudge. She was sitting in her office in Canterlot working the paperwork as her generals and fleet admirals continued the ongoing naval campaign. They'd made more headway without her, as she was far too soft-hearted for these sort of things, and opted to try taking prisoners rather than just outright eliminating the enemy.

So she took to running the country as her sister tried to peg down a dangerous criminal and otherwise give orders to the army. Usually Luna sent status reports, this latest letter however was of her sister waxing poetic on just how amazing her time with a paint-coat earth pony stallion in the dock-end of nowhere town aptly named Dock End was. '11 times? Nearly impregnated? He actually performed a backwards dog?! Not even my veteran guards can do that!'

Celestia would've claimed her sister making false boasts, but her sister was not one for bluster. If this stallion and her bedded 11 times in one night, then it was true. But still...wow. “Lulu, I get you were frustrated, but wow.” Celestia looked up at a tapping on her window, and saw a familiar falcon. “And that must be Neighezid's letter.” She stood, her flowing conservative white gown flowing like her glittering pink mane and tail, especially when she opened the window and the majestic bird flew in to perch on her desk's intended bird perch. “So what do you bring me little one?”

Celestia gently tickled the bird's neck, making him puff up in joy as she took the scrolls from the tubes tied to his talon. She read the letter first, becoming concerned, and then unrolled the other to reveal schematics for a weapon named the “Demir Classic”, and was called a “shotgun”, whatever that was. It wasn't until she read further in the letter that her eyes widened and she looked at the schematics in awe and fear. “A portable cannon with scattershot...this....” 'This could be what we need to force the griffins to surrender!' A portable cannon was an astounding concept, one that fired a spread that was nigh-impossible to dodge normally?

It was a horrible thought, but Celestia knew that to ignore the advancement of weaponry would lead to her country's downfall sooner rather than later. But she knew; when she ordered her captain to fetch the castle engineer, that before long, the saying of “sharpest sticks” will be changed to “biggest guns” in maybe less than a generation.

[ $ ]

“Glad to be of service Stranger.” Konrad bowed his head to his latest customer who nodded back and left. 'Hm...might have to make a trip back to Demir's soon. Running out of silk.' Konrad mused.

{The ponies here just eat Saddle Arabian trinkets, baubles and silk up like it's exotic candy. Then again, we spent time there so it just isn't as special in our eyes. Also, being in our horse form helps drive up sales.} Avarice was right, as they easily towered at least a whole foot above the tallest ponies in the crowds of Trottingham. They stood out the moment they arrived about a week ago, having decided to sprint the whole way they made the trip along the road in just over a day from Dock End to Trottingham.

He may have been the most suspiciously overdressed, but since this was the market district, and he stood at the corner of it with a pack quite clearly full of goods, the fact he was a Merchant was obvious for the ponies who stopped to ask about his wares. Once word spread he had wares from Saddle Arabia, he'd been getting lines even, and had to excuse himself a few times to quickly warp to Sığınak, buy some more wares from the stalls, and warp back. He stopped in to say hello to Demir a couple times too, getting a smile and laugh out of her for his persistence in reassuring her he wasn't out of her life yet.

Because of the difference in prices, Konrad was making a killing. Bits were more plentiful here, but Equestria was also ironically much shorter on the creature comforts that Saddle Arabians ironically took for granted. It was an odd, nonsensical duality that made Konrad realize that doing this would help balance out the monetary and material balance between the countries.

“Hello, Stranger. What can I do for you?” Konrad asked the posh-looking stallion who approached him. 'Well, a properly well-off one ain't ya?' The gray unicorn stallion was dressed in a fine suit, a very old-English dark gray tux that seemed like it belonged on a cheesy butler in some mansion rather than on a proper and upstanding stallion. Even his slicked-back hair and eyes were a light gray. He was so monochrome that he stood out among the colorful palette of ponies like a gray smear on a fresco.

“I shall cut to the chase. Do you have any Saddle Arabian arms in your inventory?” That wasn't suspicious to ask at all.

“Hm, I only have a sniper's crossbow. It is a fine weapon. I've tested it's accuracy myself. Do you plan it to be a collector's item or-ah~! I see.” Konrad's eyes flashed as the stallion suddenly became nervous. “Trying to...implicate something sir? Need we move this transaction someplace more...private?” Konrad asked, and the stallion looked about before realizing that having the Merchant follow him would be more suspicious.

“Do you know where the Dam's Dive is?” The gray on gray stallion asked, getting a nod out of Konrad.

“The only good place to get a drink in this town? Of course. When should we rendezvous?” The stallion then took a note from his pocket and handed it to Konrad, leaving in a casual stride as the Merchant read the note. 'Tonight, as the sun nears the horizon. Very well.'

{Not suspicious at all. We'll go, but be wary.} Avarice warned Konrad needlessly. The horse stood at the corner for most of the day, securing several more sales until he'd run out of silk, and then casually left for the Dam's Dive. The name was a bit worrisome, as what mother goes drinking instead of watching their child? The proprietor apparently, a mare named Hoppy. Konrad doubted that was her real name, but meh.

It was just a few streets over from Market Square on Carriage Avenue. Which was weird, because Carriage Avenue was nothing but houses, but apparently even though the place was ran out of the local brewer's own basement, it was better than the actual bar halfway across town both in the booze and the waitresses. They weren't all overly buxom or otherwise curvaceous or things like that, they were simply charming, happy to serve and good conversationalists. They also had cute faces. Damn Konrad's weakness for cute girls.

He plodded his boot-covered hooves up the cobblestone walkway to the side of Hoppy's house, and then descended down to the basement-turned-dive. It was as usual filled with patrons even considering it was only mid-afternoon. The round wood tables made of cheap, warped planks and beams filled the place from near the door to the bar. And there at the bar, standing behind it as always was the very buxom green earth pony mare with long flowing red hair and yellow eyes named Hoppy. Happily wiping out a large wood mug with a ratty old bar mop. “Well, if it isn't Avarice again! This is your fourth day in a row!”

“Hello again, Hoppy.” Konrad casually strode through the establishment, ignoring all the suspicious glares of the patrons. They were fiercely protective of Hoppy, not just because she was the best source of beer in town, but because they all cared about the matronly mare's safety. Any fights in here are quickly put down by the patrons and the offenders ejected violently. Also she was a widow of the war, and many of the single stallions here were quite intent on ensuring she and her daughter were cared for in some way, even if she wasn't planning to remarry.

“If I didn't know better, I'd say you have a drinking problem he, he!” Hoppy joked, grinning impishly. Konrad only ordered a single pitcher, and drank it over a period of an hour or so alongside a meal he picked at while he used scroll and charcoal to make lists and other plans.

“Meh, no point drinking into a stupor. I'm not here for the beer for once though. I'm meeting a potential client here. I'll just order a protein salad and some saltine crackers with cider.” Hoppy blinked in surprise at Konrad's words. Clearly she rarely got the customer who didn't want her booze.

“Well, alright then. This isn't just a bar, so go on ahead and find a seat. I'll have one of my girls deliver your meal to you.” Hoppy said as Konrad took out a sack of bits and counted out the 12 bits his order cost and set them on the counter, where she gladly scooped up and dropped in her earnings trey behind the counter. “Thank ya kindly dear.”

“No problem Hoppy. Glad to be serviced.” Konrad joked, getting a giggle out of the mare at his switched words, knowing he always said the opposite on a constant basis. Konrad then drifted over to his usual spot in the dark, far corner. His salad laden with various nuts, cheese, and his crackers and non-alcoholic cider followed shortly, and he tipped the pink mare up-front like he usually did, making her smile even more before he went about having his meal.

The cheese was made with cow milk, which was a little odd to Konrad. Cows were as humanoid as the ponies here, and were fewer in number, but this was probably due to their lower mental faculties. He tried talking to a heifer in the market who was selling her milk, but she seemed to struggle when he used large words or spoke too fast. He asked a pony about it, and was told that cows weren't all-there in the head, always daydreaming or distracted by something, and had nothing to do with stupidity. Still, that told Konrad that some races of this world were still early in their developmental stages.

Especially when he was told they usually lived in communal ranches or corrals. Such places were meant to keep the “simpler” folks from hurting themselves. The ponies didn't know why the cows were so easily distracted and mentally displaced from reality, but they cared too much to let the dear things hurt themselves with their absentmindedness. Apparently mages and doctors were trying to figure it out, develop something to help the bovines focus, but thus far have been unsuccessful.

Konrad hoped they succeeded in the near future. The idea that a whole race of people were so debilitated was depressing. Konrad finished his meal, and soon the gray on gray stallion from earlier sat across from him. “Hello again, Stranger. Now. This is clearly about more than some crossbow. Mind filling me in?”

“I'll cut right to the chase. Do you have any connections that can get shotguns from Saddle Arabia?” The stallion's words surprised Konrad, but he didn't let that through in his demeanor.

“That depends. Who wants them, how many, and why? I have one on my person, one of the first ones in fact, but it's mine, and I know from experience these aren't toys you can just wave around. I'm not going to be a reckless arms dealer.” 'Word travels fast. Demir must have submitted her work with her government and Saddle Arabia's planning on sharing with Equestria, that's good.'

“The navy, as many as possible, to make fighting the griffins easier.” Ah, so bland stallion was working with the government. Judging from how nervous he was, and the subject matter, he wasn't doing this legally.

“Tell me why. Clearly Saddle Arabia's shared the designs with you lot, so why don't you make your...ah. They can't get it right, can they?” The Stallion's fidgeting was answer enough. “Shame. It'd be terrible if poor Demir is the only one with the skill to make them. Very well. I'll put through an order to Demir myself. How many?”

“At least 500.” The stallion said, getting Konrad to blink. “It's a lot, I know, but we need them for our soldiers so the griffins can't just swoop down on our ship and ground-bound soldiers, and our crossbows aren't fast enough to catch a griffin mid-dive. Not to mention we need to dismantle several to try and figure out the construction. The barrels we have, the steel we've got, but we cannot assemble the mounting and trigger right.”

“Alright then. I cannot guarantee 500. Demir's just a single mare, she can't make that many in a week let alone a few days, and she's been making them nonstop for her own country's army.” Konrad then reached into his coat, and brought out his personal, original Demir Classic, the stallion's eyes widening at the steel barreled and brass-adorned beauty. “This is the first one actually. My concerns for your engineer's safety is more in the construction of the shells. The materials used for the primers are very temperamental.”

“Oh, yes, we've already lost a couple of assistant engineers to them. They aren't dead, but missing fingers makes working fine instruments impossible. We've taken to only letting unicorns handle that part of the process.” Gray said sadly with wilted ears. “I will meet you again here tomorrow with the bits, if you'll sign this.” Konrad's eyes glowed as he felt genuine surprise at the sight of a formal contract, with details put in for 500 shotguns, paid in full, to be carried out by the signed party. But rather than gray have his eyes shimmer, only the scroll did.

{Careful Kon. You sign that, and we're bound to fulfilling it. Read the fine print closely.} Konrad did so, finding no loopholes, nothing suspicious. It simply stated that the one signing was honor and duty-bound to fulfill the contract or otherwise be put under penalty of seizure of assets and imprisonment.

'Sounds about right in this case. I can supply this if I work alongside Demir to make them. That's a lot of bits to be paid to Saddle Arabia, with a good portion for me, but no mention of Demir.' “Wrong. Demir is the only one making them, yet I do not see her justly due payment. I will be traveling there myself to help her make them as I can, and I see no reason to exclude my friend from her rightful reward.” Konrad suddenly felt like he'd done something very, very bad. As the stallion's expression suddenly took on a very shark-like grin. 'Oh...fuck.' “YOU SWINDLER!”

“GET HIM!” At Gray's shout, dozens of iron armored unicorn guards stormed down the main entrance stairwell, and Hoppy's house upstairs, upsetting the patrons and especially Hoppy herself, demanding an explanation as they all aimed spears at him with their horns glowing, while Konrad kept Demir's gift to him aimed at the smug gray stallion who continued to calmly grin. “Avarice. A fugitive who uses the forbidden Contract Magics to bind those he deals with to fulfill them. Also the one to help design the Demir Classic shotgun and teach the smith how to make this special steel alloy. You're Under Arrest.”

“Take one STEP and his head get's blown off his shoulders!” Konrad roared, outraged. 'This place has a fucking FBI?! REALLY?!' “And don't think I can't take all of you. There may be like...twenty of you, but I can easily kill you all before you blink!”

“Please. I'm unimportant, little more than a field agent. Go ahead. Shoot. You'll just make things worse for yourself.” Gray said smugly, his shifty gray eyes glinting in victory.

“You won't be so smug with your head spattered across this basement!” Konrad was about to pull the trigger when he froze at the sound of one of the waitresses crying out in pain, and he shot his gaze over to a guard who grabbed the pink waitress who served him, and held his spear to her neck, scaring her stiff and making the patrons go silent in shock. “You wouldn't dare....”

“Your portfolio says that you earnestly care about the common pony's welfare enough to not needlessly endanger them. You took no actual hostages, and the worst you did was inflict a stab wound on a stallion for betraying you. In a non-vital area at that. All reports on you from Saddle Arabia also say that you never went out of your way to hurt others. You also have a weakness for cute mares. You're a criminal, but a soft one. Easy prey for us government sharks willing to hunt you down. You now have two options. Come peacefully, or the mare dies. Simple.” Gray smiled more as Konrad jammed the barrel between his eyes, not even flinching. “You have ten seconds.”

Konrad was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between the counting stallion and the mare who looked at him desperately. 'I...I can't.' “I surrender!” Konrad shouted as he quickly stowed his gun in his coat, and held his hands in the air. “Let her go!”

“Contain him, let the mare free.” Gray ordered, and the guard holding the mare hostage let her go, and she collapsed into a nearby chair in tears as her coworkers all moved to comfort her, while one of the guards approached and his horn sparkled with a pink glow, spawning pink manacles made of the same energy around Konrad's wrists. “You'll enjoy your new workshop Mr. Avarice. The accommodations are...extensive.”

Konrad was then struck on the back of the head, and everything went dark.

[ $ ]

Konrad snapped awake, feeling weak as he was on the harsh wood floor of a carriage in motion. His world was a mess of moving shapes, shifting colors, and an incredible need to vomit. He persevered though, and soon the pain in his head faded and the world cleared back up. {About time you woke up. Damn concussion. Bastards don't know how to avoid causing one apparently. You were lucky you woke up at all.}

Konrad looked himself over, stripped down to nothing but his thong again. He could sense his equipment was still nearby, likely in a storage box under the passenger seat on the front. Ponies and horses drew carriages themselves, no sense in not doing so. But for larger ones more pullers were needed. This small, cramped box with wood barred windows was barely big enough to fit him, and he couldn't even stand in it, so he likely only had a single earth pony pulling him along. 'Mother fuckers. I can't believe I got caught like this when I evaded a fucking goddess.'

{Sometimes, organization and underhanded tactics far outstrip raw power and charisma. Bastard had us good. I too pegged him as looking for a deal rather than it being a setup.} Avarice admitted as Konrad crawled to the door and dragged himself up to the window to see nothing but woods and mountains around them.

'If I remember things right...and the position of the sun means anything...we must be getting taken to Canterlot.' It would make sense, that's where Equestria's seat of power was, aside from the hearsay he knew of about the diarchs having their own private castle in the middle of what was known as the Everfree Forest for their own needs. 'Okay, enough of this shit. Going Verdugo!'

{No! Stop!} Avarice was too late and Konrad let out an agonized peal of a scream in pain, the paint horse collapsing back to the floor as something in him spiked with sheer pain. {Idiot! They've drugged us with something to keep us from using magic!}

'Fucking WHY?! We're a horse right now, only unicorns can use magic without an external focus!' Konrad rationalized to himself as one of his escorting guards, a pegasus in the normal light bronze armor hovered to one of the side windows.

“Tried to use your odd magic did ya? Don't bother, unless you want whatever you try to backlash and flay you alive, just sit tight and don't even think of trying anything else. We need you alive and well if we're going to be getting those shotguns.” The pegasus then flew away from the window, and Konrad hissed in anger and frustration.

'Sons of bitches! When I get out, I'm skinning you all alive or my name isn't Konrad fucking Skinner!' Konrad stewed in his anger, roaring as he tried smashing through the door in his rage. His tackles, punches, and kicks availed him nothing but breaking his skin, cracking a hoof, and splitting his knuckles. “FUCKING FIGHT ME YOU COWARDS! SWINDLERS! TURNCOATS!” Konrad was going to try assaulting the door again, but a unicorn stallion appeared at the window, and blasted him with a spell. “You...cheap...fucks....” Konrad fell to the floor, hurt and oddly tired as sleep overtook him.

[ $ ]

Konrad awoke slowly, hurting all over and to the sensation of being dragged. His hooves making a hollow scraping sound on the stone floor as his captors carelessly tugged him by the pits up to a certain cell door, and tossed him in, before the iron bars slammed shut behind him, the lock sliding into place with finality. '...The fuck did I do to deserve this? Is this karma for killing that guard?'

{Oh, not this shit again. Don't fucking go there. I had to deal with your whining enough over this issue. We're going to end up killing plenty with what we're being put through. We're both too vindictive to forgive this.} Avarice replied, and tantalizing images of blasting Gray's head off, or choking him until the light left his eyes flew through their vision. {Pricks like that especially.}

“RAH~! NOBODY SWINDLES THE MERCHANT! NOBODY~!” Konrad screamed out the door, the echo of his rage was very satisfying. After he huffed and snorted in anger a few more minutes, he then turned to his cell to see it was actually a contained forge, with everything he needed from the smelter and hearth to the anvil, and tools and material to make things. To have room for all of this, the cell was quite large actually. He even had an extra large cot to sleep on. “Are they idiots? They expect me to make them anything?”

“Yes. We do. And you will.” Konrad spun around as he quickly jumped to his hooves and glared at the small barely half-his-height 5 foot tall mare who addressed him. She was a suspiciously armored mare, almost no curves to her at all either save her plump rear and thick thighs. She was a slate gray, her eyes golden and slitted, and she had black bat wings instead of feathered ones. If it weren't for her dull, cruel eyes and her sneer, he would've considered her cute with her little fangs and the tufts on the tips of her ears. Her armor was burnt black, and made for mobility like all pegasi were. “Because if you don't.” She snapped her fingers on her left hand, and another guard, like her but a stallion of average height, opened another cell nearby, entered, and dragged a crying and feebly struggling emaciated brown mare from it. “She get's punished.”

“You sick fucks. What kind of ruler condones this kind of bullshit?!” 'Equestria's seeming more like some dictatorships I learned of in school, rather than the nice place I'd been thinking it was.' Konrad's surprise was evident when the mare laughed cruelly.

“One that we don't serve! We keep these sort of things under wraps so the princesses don't find out. They're too benevolent for their own good. They can't order the things that need done. Not even Mistress Luna has the callousness needed for these sorts of things.” She then took a whip from her side, and used it on the barely-dressed mare's stomach, getting a yelp of pain and Konrad to reach out to grab the bitch, only for her to whip his hand. “Down slave! You belong to Equestria now. And you're going to be making shotguns. Shotguns that work. Shotguns that if they fail, will result in due punishment for both you, and the pretty little things we have locked down here. Do I make myself clear? Oh, and if you kill yourself, we execute them. Isn't that wonderful?”

Konrad was practically foaming at the mouth, he wanted to break this bitch's spine, rip out her heart and eat it as she watched while the light left her eyes! “Just tell me the name of the bitch I'm going to murder first chance I get!”

The petite mare smiled darkly, and got right up in his face with utter confidence. “I'm Sharp Snap, prettybuck. Now get to work.” She turned, and whipped him in the face with her long dark purple tail which both surprised and disgusted him. That was a traditional sign from a mare that they were interested, and he very much was not.

'Bitch. I'd sooner rip out your ovaries than have sex with you.' Konrad turned to his new forced home, his body drugged, unable to transform, and now a slave to the Equestrian war machine. 'This is all karma of sorts. I brought guns to this world, now I have to spread them personally like a plague.' The Plaga snorted in wry amusement at the irony as he approached the important part, the barrel he was to use as a template for the casts. He had no idea how they planned to keep him supplied, the room aired, or anything like that. Probably magic or some shit. 'Fuck...might as well get started.'

Konrad took the iron barrel template over to the barrel filled with moist clay, and started pressing it in to prepare the casts.

Author's Notes:

You have just witnessed several ultimate weaknesses of Avarice's.

He can be separated from his equipment, he can also be incapacitated by mundane means so long as he was in a passably mundane form when his magic is cut off. He has little to no magic resistance as of this moment. And once again; he has a weakness for cute females or the lives of innocents in general.

Against cold-blooded do-anything-to-win sharks like these guys? Avarice stood no chance.