Bear Jaw Ridge yawned ahead of them like a gaping maw. The four ponies moved as a tight knit group, sticking together, moving from cover to sheltered place, wary that their approach might be seen. Tarnish was nervous; he wanted a peaceful resolution, but fully expected things to go wrong. A part of him wished that Cranberry was here.

The diamond dogs, or the tall dogs as the badger-kin called them, knew that making ponies angry was a bad idea. Tarnish hoped that this would allow them to see some reason, and that perhaps, with some luck, a deal might be brokered. He rehearsed the words in his mind over and over, not knowing what to say, what approach to make—how did one perform diplomacy with diamond dogs anyhow?

Poor Buttons was brain damaged and not typical to her species. Diamond Dogs could have fierce intelligence and cunning. They could be smart. They were capable of being good. The capability to be good caused their willingness to be bad to be all the more galling.

He worried that Flamingo was going to be bloodied today. She didn’t like blood, and Tarnish was okay with that. He liked having a sword that he was hesitant to use. He wanted to talk his way out of bad situations or find some peaceful alternative. Tarnish hadn’t quite made the realisation, but Flamingo was his conscience, at least when it came to conflict and violence. Her squeamishness when it came to blood and violence kept him from making bad decisions, because he had another pony’s thoughts and feelings to consider.

A sword she might be, but deep down, Flamingo was a pony. A pony who had once asked the Tree of Harmony if she could become the Element of Pinkness. A pony who was loyal to her commander, Princess Luna, and then was struck down by Nightmare Moon. Tarnish wasn’t sure what had happened, not exactly, but she was now an immortal spirit in a sword that could slice through anything, even astral connections.

Some ponies became alicorns. Flamingo had become a sword. The world was a strange place. Powerful, ancient centaurs could become mystical orbs. A draconequus could become a statue and spend a thousand years in timeout. A princess could fall into darkness and struggle for redemption.

A brain damaged diamond dog might just be the best representative of her species…

Peering through the binoculars, Tarnish counted six diamond dogs out in the open. They were armed and armored. He saw two with pollaxes, one with a somewhat rusty broadsword that he waved around, one with a large wooden mallet, and two with axes. Battleaxes, not pickaxes. This concerned him quite a bit. They had helmets, crude breastplates, and appeared to be well protected against basic, common attacks. He passed the binoculars to Vinyl, who lifted them to her eyes and took a peek.

The anxiety and stress of the potential conflict made Tarnish start sweating. He was worried, he wanted this to end as peacefully as possible, but seeing the armed guards, he feared that this might go all kinds of wrong.

“Two more,” Maud said in a low monotonous voice as she pointed with her hoof.

Sure enough, two more. Tarnish squinted to see them. They were near a pool of water that had filled a basin of rock. The basin was crude looking, rough hewn, it was obvious that it had been carved from the stone with very little care for aesthetics. The water trickled down the side of the stone ridge. Nearby, a gaping crack could be seen, a gash in the rock, and beyond the opening, a heavy blackness prevented Tarnish from seeing inside.

“Time to do this,” Tarnish said to himself as he willed his legs to work.

The guards gathered as he approached. Tarnish kept his sword sheathed and his shield strapped to his back. Just behind him, Maud, Octavia, and Vinyl walked in a triangle formation. Tarnish felt his stomach clenching as the guards brandished their weapons.

“What you want, horseling?” one of the guards asked.

“I would like to speak to your leader… the one in charge,” Tarnish replied.

“You speak to Dig Dag?” The guard began to chuckle and the others joined him.

“Yes. My name it Tarnished Teapot and I am a Ranger of the Crown. I demand to speak to Dig Dag at once.” As he spoke, he saw it. Fear. These diamond dogs didn’t want trouble from ponies. They had stopped chuckling. “We don’t want trouble and I wish to discuss the matter of him keeping slaves.”

“We no keep horseling slaves,” the guard said in a low growl. “You go away, leave us alone. We do no wrong, horseling. Get lost.”

“I’m not leaving.” Tarnish stood his ground. He could feel sweat running down the inside of his legs, distracting him. “You will deal with me as the duly appointed representative of the Crown, or there will be trouble.”

One of the pollaxe wielding guards snarled and his lip curled back from his jagged teeth as he gripped his weapon. He took a step forwards, sniffled, and then leered down at Tarnish as his tongue flicked over his jagged, broken, blackened teeth.

“Oy, keep your distance or else there will be trouble,” Octavia said in her husky Grittish accent as she moved to stand beside Tarnish. “All of you lot are wearing armor… metal is real easy for a unicorn to heat up, red hot. Care for a bit of a sizzle on your dainty bits, me boyos?”

The dogs squirmed and stared at Octavia.

“Now, summon your leader so we can have a proper sodding meeting, ya gits!” Octavia’s ears stood up in an aggressive manner and a caustic sneer contorted her face into something unpleasant. Octavia, a beautiful, cultured, well refined mare, now looked like a hooligan—or a punk. “What, you fuckin’ tosser, are you deaf? Wanna have a go, mate?”

The diamond dog holding the broadsword yelped, turned tail, and hurried off for the cave entrance. As he departed, Tarnish stood there, stunned, and trying not to show it. Octavia, beautiful Octavia, who was such a prim and proper mare, a refined, cultured, and well educated mare, had a filthy mouth when she was riled. His brain, the helpful organ that it was, reminded him that his dear friend was the daughter of a Trottingham steelworker. She had working class roots, and she knew how to curbstomp too. Beneath that cultured veneer, there lurked a mean little mare. A mean little mare that he was glad to have as his friend.

Tilting her head, Octavia looked up at a diamond dog that was staring at her. He turned away, finding something else interesting to look at. Tarnish stood, waiting, his muscles quivering, wondering if he was going to somehow pull this off. If he did, it would be due to Octavia helping him.

“Don’t stare at me, ya fuckin’ toerag!” Octavia snapped to another diamond dog that kept looking at her. Her voice was gritty, shrill, and grating. “I’ll stomp your fuckin’ skull and leave your worthless testicles to dry in the sun so I can make some maracas!”

The dog that Octavia spoke to jerked back in shock and surprise. “I thought horselings all nice and kinda stupid… you no nice!”

“So, you think I’m stupid?” Octavia asked in a low, dangerous tone.

“No,” the dog yelped. “No want testicles turned into maracas!” He covered his groin with one broad paw.

The largest diamond dog that Tarnish had ever seen came out of the crack in the ridge.

The hulking brute known as Dig Dag had to be at least eight feet tall and his broad shoulders had to be at least half as wide as he was tall. His arms were as big around as an earth pony’s barrel and his paws were bigger than dinner plates. A massive war bar was held in one paw, a weapon that was just a giant crowbar with a mace-like knob on one end.

“You there, horseling, you would speak to Dig Dag?”

The massive brute was well spoken and it took Tarnish by surprise. His deep baritone voice sounded cultured, educated even. Tarnish was taken off guard by Dig Dag’s erudite speech. He looked up at the massive, shaggy brute.

“Why yes, my good sir,” Octavia said, now sounding cultured and refined again. “We wish to speak to you about the slaves that you have in your possession.”

“We do not keep horseling slaves,” Dig Dag replied. His free paw flexed and his massive paw-fingers curled and uncurled. “I understand your concern, but you do not have authority here.”

“I beg to differ.” Tarnish drew himself up to his full height. “This is Equestria. There are laws against slavery. You keeping the badger-kin and the bushwoolies is a direct violation of that law.”

The massive diamond dog chieftain let out a low growl as he raised his paw and gestured at the world around him. “This is the wilds. These are free lands. I see no princesses here. There is no authority here. You do not even recognise the badger-kin or the bushwoolies as citizens of this so called nation of yours. Your princesses do nothing to protect them, or serve their needs. When you horselings want to make a new village or settle a new patch of land, you chase off the badger-kin and you drive away the bushwoolies as pests. You care nothing for the indigenous creatures that are in your way.”

Taken aback, Tarnish didn’t know what to say or how to respond.

“Well, I care about them,” Octavia said to Dig Dag, “which is why I am here, trying to free them.”

“They will not be freed.” Dig Dag’s voice was firm. “I will not bow my knee to satisfy your imperialism. We are free dogs, minding our own business in the wilds, away from those who would oppress us.”

“But you oppress others,” Maud said.

“It is not your concern.” Dig Dag’s eyes narrowed. “Now, you should go. Many of my clan grow hungry at the sight of your horse-flesh. I will keep the peace, but I expect you to leave. Now.”

“This will not stand.” Tarnish felt his knees quivering as he spoke. “Know this, if you try to make us leave, we will summon a princess and we shall return. There will be trouble. So, you can release the slaves now, or, we can return with Twilight Sparkle and an army. There will be much bloodshed and the slaves shall be freed. Either way, this ends with their freedom.”

Dig Dag gripped his war bar and the tendons in his brawny arms creaked. “This is why there will always be conflict between us, horseling. You will never allow us to live in peace. Always with the threats. Always with the do as we say. You chase us from our homes, you kill us, you hunt us, we have so few places left where we can live in peace.”

“You attack ponies, capture them, keep them as slaves, and sometimes even eat them!” Tarnish snapped in return. “You bring this on yourselves! How hard is it to live in peace and not do terrible things, like keeping other creatures as slaves?”

“We have a right to preserve our way of life.” Dig Dag’s voice was soft, almost a growl, and his eyes glittered with hatred. “You have no right to tell us what is right or wrong, horseling. We were once a proud and free species in this land… now look at us. Forced to live in holes, hiding from you and your kind, and forced to scrape an existence from a land that you’ve stripped bare.”

“Your words reek of hypocrisy,” Maud interjected in a calm deadpan. “You complain about the imperial will of ponies pressing down upon you and robbing you of what you feel is your rightful existence, all while defending your right to oppress and enslave others so you can laze about, not actually working, and living whatever decadent lifestyle you can muster through the exploitation of others. You rob them of their rightful existence by keeping them as possessions.”

“Leave now,” Dig Dag commanded.

“No.” Tarnish stood, stiff legged and defiant. “We’re not leaving while there are slaves.”

“Leave. Now.” Dig Dag’s words were angry and insistent. “Leave me and my dogs in peace. Do not provoke bloodshed this day.”

“Be reasonable,” Tarnish said in a pleading voice. “You have to know how this ends. If we leave now, we come back with an army and the same outcome will happen. So, release them now, or release them later. Save the lives of your fellow dogs and do what is right as a leader.”

“Do what is right as a leader, you say?” Dig Dag’s eyes looked sad and angry. “It seems that a fight is unavoidable.”

“Just let them go and there will be no fight.” Octavia’s words were soft and cajoling.

Many things happened all at once. Dig Dag moved with alarming speed, raising his war bar high up over his head, and he lunged towards Tarnish, bringing it down in a powerful overhead chop so that Tarnish would be crushed, crushed into goo.

Moving entirely on reflex, Tarnish drew Flamingo from her sheath and with a swift, smooth motion, he sidestepped Dig Dag and disarmed him. Which is to say, he lopped off both of Dig Dag’s arms in a single stroke. The war bar fell to the ground, clattering on the stones, and both arms, chopped off just below the elbow, fell to the ground with a wet splat.

Blood geysered from Dig Dag’s stumps.

The big dog staggered backwards, shock and surprise in his eyes. Blood spurted, spraying out with an arterial rhythm, and he fought to keep his balance. His eyes gleamed with rage and hatred as he looked at Tarnish.

Opening his mouth, Dig Dag shouted, “Kill them! Tonight we return to the old ways and we feast upon their flesh!”

Author's Notes:

I think we all know what happens next...