“We’re shit out of luck ain’t we?” Lilian asked rhetorically after Skinner was thrown back inside the cave with the rest of his group.

“I’m sorry, do you mean the part where we’ll probably be tossed into a volcano, the part where this whole expedition is a complete fuckup, the part where they have a cleric that can extract information from you by friggin’ magic or was it the part where our dear cook is going to loose his dick and be turned into a broodmother if we don’t do anything?”

“They what?!” Carlos snapped his head towards his superior, wide-eyed.

“So they didn’t even tell you. Great.” Skinner snarked.

“No they just asked random questions about us and… wait… that does explain the weird looks I received. Urgh...” The parrot shuddered. “And the hens were giggling at me. Guess I understand why now. Gah, it’s disgusting!” The Portuguese spat, devolving into mumbling in his native tongue.

In his corner of the cave, Praveen scooted over and gave him a pat on the back.

“Don’t worry Marcos, we’re going to find a solution.” She comforted him. “We are, aren’t we?” She turned her gaze towards Skinner.

The hedgefog massaged his sore neck. That parrot had really put some pressure on it, it ached.

“I wish I could tell you that but...” He waved at the enchanted idol that kept them trapped at the mercy of the tribals. “Can’t really think of an escape.”

“And the locals?” Praveen tried.

“I… I just don’t understand. What little I read about Dominica is that folks here were supposed to be welcoming but that… It’s like a fanatical anti-tech cult. Most of them don’t even speak English anymore, they’re completely brainwashed by that goddess uh… Atabey I think the Bohiqua said? Damn bitch.”

Lilian suddenly gained an interested look. The pink dragoness crept closer to her superior, at least as far as the small cave allowed.

“Atabey you said?”

“Yes. Rings a bell to ye?” He croaked.

She nodded slowly, though the look on her muzzle became unreadable.

“That’s odd. She shouldn’t be… here. It’s the wrong cult.” Noticing the looks she was getting from the three others, she continued. “Before we set off I read up a bit on the area. Because I’m a dummy, I got mistaken at first and read up on Dominican Republic. The name appeared. It’s the lead goddess of the Taino people. Fertility type with a thing for fresh water. Pre-columbian civ.”

“So she’s got an influence here too.”

“But she shouldn’t. That’s what’s… troubling. The Tainos – or Arawak rather at the time- were driven off the island and pushed back towards the Greater Antilles centuries before Columbus even arrived. So to see Tainos here is… wrong, and they’re supposed to be a friendly bunch too. Not... that.”

“So is there a tribe in Dominica? I mean one that’s supposed to be there?” Marcos asked.

“That would be the Kalinagos.”

“Eh, the Bohiqua actually mentioned those!” Skinner perked up. “She called them bloodthirsty.”

“Possibly an ancestral grudge.” Lilian shrugged. “I mean, historically they’re the ones that chased the Tainos off the island, and I wouldn’t be surprised if that brainwashing goddess imprinted the idea on her followers.”

“I hate to break it to you, but arguing over whether or not they should be there won’t help us get out.” Praveen interrupted. “We have to get out of here!” The feline said, fur bristling.

“I’d burn down the door, but I get a feeling that if I try...” Lilian trailed off.

“No flamethrowers in a cave please. You’ll just consume all the air and kill us. Or all of us except for you.” Skinner mused. “Dragons you know…”

“Your electricity then?” Lilian countered.

“I dunno...” The hedgefog conjured up a spark of lightning which he held between two digits, crackling. “Just maybe...”

It didn’t work. As soon as he fired an electric bolt at the little effigy, a force field shimmered in the air and sent it right back to him. The voltage didn’t do anything, but the force sent the already battered Captain flying into the nearest wall with a grunt.

A quick dose of diluted health potion later, and they were back to square one, the four of them glowering at the primitive-but-seemingly-indestructible door.

By sunset, no progress had been made. Outside, the villagers were assembling for their evening prayers, probably near the Cacique and the Bohiqua’s hut.

And even if they’d found a way past the enchanted effigy, an Ornithian guard had planted himself in front of their cell, a silent vigil resting his weight on his spear. The sun ended its descent below the horizon and torchlight replaced the touch of the sun in the muddy streets between the huts.

Shortly after that, there was some shuffling outside. A feminine voice exchanged a couple words with the guard.It must have been a joke because the parrot barely repressed a squawking laugh before he unlatched the door and let the feminine voice in. She was a hippogriff, wearing nothing but a satchel and a few beaded necklaces around her neck, though with only torchlight coming in from outside it was hard to distinguish her features.

She trotted inside, hauling a plate of fruits and a water skin.

Well at least they’re being fed.

The hippogriff raised a claw, talons extended. Three talons extended. Two. One.

Outside, the guard yawned and leaned against a nearby wicker fence. Seconds later, he was snoring loudly. The hippogriff nodded in satisfactionbefore she shut the door behind her, making sure it stayed unlatched.

“Sorry about that. I heard you had a boat?” She finally said – in English no less-, offering Skinner her talons to shake. “I’m Emily.”

“You aren’t brainwashed?!” Lilian blurted out. “Sorry I mean… how do you still speak English? I thought you people couldn’t anymore.”

Emily’s talons flew to her beak and she made a shushing motion. For a second she stood still, silent, but the guard outside kept snoring.

“Not so loud.” She hissed under her breath. “The village isn’t completely asleep yet, but they’ll be once they’re done with the daily prayers. Sneaking past was hard enough with the excuse that I’m here to feed the prisoners.”

“But… how?” Lilian repeated.

“I managed to fake out the conversion ceremony, that’s how.” She told them, pausing every few words to make sure the coast was clear outside. “Everyone, they get a new name and a new language when they join the tribe, but me? I’m an anthropology master. My thesis was on Arawak civilizations. I can fake it, but if they find out I’ve been lying the whole time, I’m toast. I want out.”

Skinner evaluated her carefully, working his jaw a few times before he finally strung together something coherent in his mind.

“Well I won’t be one to look at a gift hippogriff in the beak-” His companions threw him a look at the expression. “-so to answer your first question: yes we came with our ship, of which I’m the Captain. Edgar Skinner, of M/V Fugro Symphony. Your compatriots, ahemm...”

“Have gone fucking insane. I noticed.” Emily deadpanned. “What’s worse is there’s trouble brewing with the actual Kalinagos north of the island, and these fools have destroyed all the ships that were left behind. Planes too, I checked before the Cacique decided non-warriors had to stay inside the village.”

“And you wouldn’t have any issue with leaving them?”

Emily closed her beak, a forlorn look in her eyes as she turned her head towards the outside, ears flat against her head.

“It’s difficult. They’ve changed. Too much. Some of them I knew before this catastrophe and they’re just… not the same anymore. And Atabey? Did you see the altar with the photos?”

“I did.” Skinner frowned. “What of it?”

“I don’t know what kind of magic she uses but she can make your family members come back if you please her. I think that’s one of the reasons everyone accepted the brainwashing. Just so they could have a chance and work towards seeing their loved ones again.”

Really, she didn’t actively resent her peers for going tribal. At first they had tried to keep things normal, distressing as it was to see the island nearly deserted and that ships and planes had stopped coming. But then it had piled on. Timberwolves. Hurricanes. Landslides. People had started dying, and the few native Kalinagos that had come back looked as though their ancestor spirits were the real deal.

So when one of them ventured into the mountains and came back as their Bohiqua, when she used her magic to heal the sick, tame the monsters that were attacking them, and dangled the promise of their loved ones coming back if they went along…

Of course they’d take the offer. Who wouldn’t?

“And if you come with us you’d miss having your loved ones back.” Praveen pointed out.

“I...” Emily searched for words. “I know I’ll regret it in the future, but mom wouldn’t want me to give up who I am for… that.” She waved a claw towards the village. “All my life I’ve lived on this island… but now is the time to leave.”

Skinner grinned.

Getting out… wouldn’t be easy. They used what time they had before the guard woke up to draw up their plan. Emily would go to the ‘shrine of shame and hubris’ to retrieve their radios and weapons while they waited.

Next step? Sneak out when the guards were the least alert. A few hours before dawn. The cloud cover was thick, and with a bit of luck rain would cover their escape when they ran for it and made a dash for the opposite side of the island. Dominica was small, Fugro should be able to meet up with them there if they made a call on the radio.

They had their chance.

Warning: explicit sexual content is present in the next scene

Carmelita twisted Dilip’s chair around, forcing the D-Dog to come face to face with her, her paws pressing down on his shoulders. The belt that held her bathrobe had come undone, letting the fluffy fabric part to reveal her in her full glory as she loomed above him. Try as he might, he couldn’t help himself with looking.

Dilip had yet to meet enough female members of his species to truly make his opinion over the matter, but it seemed that not only the female walking, talking canines were all larger and more muscular than the males, but he had yet to see an adult bitch that wasn’t ridiculously well-endowed, every single one of them was worth calling an amazon. You want plain ladies? Go check out the Abyssinians.

And Carmelita was very much a prime example of her species. The large border collie had a streak of white fur trailing all the way from the underside of her muzzle, between her breasts and to her nether regions which...

Noticing what he was looking at, he averted his gaze, to which she responded by grabbing his muzzle firmly in her paw and pointing it back where he’d been looking. She was all hourglass-shaped, with wide hips, a narrow waist with a flat, muscular belly hiding tightly packed abdominals beneath the fur… and her breasts. Bountiful mammaries covered in tufty fur the likes of which no human could have compared to without looking grotesque and which only would be superseded by a minotaur cow where the proportions would be lesser on a larger frame. All the muscle she sported gave the fleshy globes a gravity-defying shape with their fat black nipplies timidly peeking out through a layer of fur. More subtly, below her breasts, smaller vestigial nipples could be seen as well along her belly, three little pairs below one pair of functional mammaries. Funnily enough, he’d some as well, though of course being male his top pair wasn’t backed by breasts.

Carmelita’s form was quintessentially feminine yet with an underlayer of bulk and muscle worthy of amazons of legend, a form she was keenly aware of and which Dilip couldn’t help but stare at, feeling his member rise to the call. Her grin read clearly that she knew, the paw cradling his muzzle forcing him firmly to look her in the eye before she pulled him in a passionate kiss, both their long muzzle parting and angling to welcome the other.

And yet…

For all the animalistic attraction he was feeling, a part of Dilip couldn’t help but notice the key differences between the female D-Dog and the human women he’d grown up dreaming (more like lusting) over. The fur was obvious, a lustrous coat of black and white in stark contrast to his own shorter bronze fur, but that was only the surface. See, unlike humans where men are bigger than women, Diamond Dogs work the opposite way. That he’d already noted long before he met her.

Except now it was the first time Dilip truly realized the implications in that little detail. He was no weakling himself. Male or female, the entire species was only surpassed by minotaurs in the muscle department. And Earth Ponies if you counted magically-enhanced strength.

That said, Carmelita was in a league above him. The white fur on her inner body barely hid her abs and coiled muscles, the firm breasts had to thank their form to the pecs beneath them, and her arms were twice his size, let alone the thighs she had, what with the wide hips.

“Like what you see sugar?” She broke the kiss and smirked, revealing a mawful of canine fangs as she looked at him predatorily. “Oh yes… you definitely do.” She sang in her hispanic accent.

And judging by the way the fur between her thighs glistened, so did she. Dilip’s nostrils expanded, catching her scent.

Carmelita bent forward, nipping at his ear, so close to him her bare breasts brushed against his shirt, her larger form nearly encompassing him whole.

Shit, was that why the least assertive dogs were the first to find companionship? Was this how his genderswapped crew members felt on their first time? Whatever the answer was, his train of thought was cut short as Carmelita picked him up effortlessly, holding him in a bridal carry with a broad grin.

“You know, it’s actually rather funny.” She laughed after planting a quick kiss on his nose.

“What is?” He managed to string together, still a bit dumbstruck at being held in the same manner he’d carried his wife after their wedding.

He’d weighed himself. He was no small dog. Bigger than he’d been as a human actually.

“The role reversal.” She said in a husky voice as she began carrying him up the stairs and towards her bedroom. “At first I was mad when I realized I had become female, but then I noticed. With us dogs, it works in reverse. As a bitch...” She said the word in a sing-song tone. “I am the one in control. It’s always so funny when the guys realize it. Mexico’s a very macho country, and I heard… so is India, except you guys are completely whipped by your wives!” She laughed out loud.

“No we aren’t! I was married for over thirty years and I *mostly* got along with my wife!” He protested.

Carmelita smiled and shook her head softly.

“You’re a sailor. If you didn’t have an issue you wouldn’t have been out on the other end of the world. Let me guess… arranged marriage?” She tutted when she saw him frown. “Ah, and here’s the proof I hit the nail on the head.”

“I put three kids in her. That’s why we married. Unite the families. Make children. I did my part. So when they grew up, maybe I did rent a house in Britain to keep an eye on the kids while they were studying in the UK. She… had to keep an eye on the family estate in Mumbai.”

“Excuses, excuses and more excuses.” Carmelita looked at him mirthfully with her brown eyes. “At least I know the plumbing works.” She joked, letting her thumb brush not-so-subtly between his legs as she carried him to her bedroom and pushed through the door with her shoulder.

Much like the living room, there was volcanic rock a-plenty inside, so much of it covering the walls that the bedroom looked a little like a volcanic cave, with great efforts taken to reinforce the feeling. Any light in there was subtly hidden behind wall panels and plants to provide an intimate atmosphere, with the obligatory mood lighting Carmelita had preemptively shifted to red hues. Even the doors were hidden behind nooks in the rocky walls panels. One to the bathroom, another to what he suspected to be a walk-in closet (because of course an ex-exec’s penthouse would have one). There was a tinted skylight too, but at this point the sun had gone down, leaving only the mood lighting.

And occupying the center of the room was the bed. Large, round, and draped with a set of black bed sheets.

All in all the room was relatively featureless. Carmelita had left it as she’d found it, save for a couple car posters hanging above the bed, a socket extension peeking out from underneath the bed with multiple chargers and a laptop, and a small alarm clock.

In short: it looked like someone had plopped down a bed inside an oddly clean cave with the lighting looking as though there was red-hot lava in reach.

“That’s uh… really nice place you have here.” He stammered awkwardly.

What was with that anyway? He leads just fine on his own ship, but a bitch shows up and he misplaces his spine? That females were bigger and more assertive, he could understand, but that? He felt utterly cowed.

“Beautiful I know?” She smiled brightly, planting a quick kiss on his muzzle, her thumb still caressing his ballsack through the seat of his pants. “You know… at first I thought being a bitch, I had pulled the short straw. But really? I’m better off. We have the size, we have the strength, I have a body that turns heads around, and I can use sex as a leverage.”

Dilip frowned.

“You know I’m not the only Captain in the fleet, right? Turning things to your favor will need more than just a wild nigh-” He was stopped mid-sentence by another kiss.

“I know. I just took a liking to sex in this form. And you… you look like I’m going to be your first since you went dog. You don’t look half bad, pup.” She told him, gently dropping him on the edge of the bed before she shrugged off her bathrobe. Her tail was wagging. “Now off with your clothes.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You heard me...” She whispered sultrily, looming over his form, steadily pushing him backwards until he was laying down on the bed fully. She trailed a digit over his shirt’s buttons. “It’s either you take them off, or I tear them off myself.”

Dilip gulped and complied quickly. Carmelita glanced appreciatively as he laid his body bare. Without asking, she let her paws run over his chest, stroking his pecs before they began a voyage down, running through his short bronze fur and tweaking his vestigial nipples. Ever since the transformation had gotten rid of his middle-age paunch, he’d been careful to go to the ship’s gym and keep in shape. It showed. He hardly had a hint of fat on his gut, something which elicited a pleased purr from the border collie currently inspecting the goods.

And… he kinda liked the attention. With his arranged marriage he’d never gotten the chance to be ‘frisky’, and he considered himself too high-society to frequent brothels.

Maybe she knew it, maybe she didn’t, but Carmelita was the first female he was banging in his life that wasn’t his wife. Blame traditionalism.

Her paws finished their little trip between his thighs and he couldn’t help the canine whine that escaped his muzzle as she found her prize. It hadn’t taken much for his prick to escape its sheath, and there it glistened, exposed to the cool air and Carmelita’s ministrations.

“Not bad, not bad… You’re more impressive than most I’ve experienced.” She praised, flicking his member with her stubby claw-like nail. “But it takes two to tango right? Don’t just lie there like a starfish. Es lo que hacen las humanas. Use your paws.”

Tentatively at first, he reached out and put his paws on her hips, digits running through the smooth fur, rubbing circles in her lower back, marveling at the coiled muscles and firm flesh. Obviously that was still too passive for her, because as the scent of arousal filled the air and she pressed herself against him, peppering him with kisses, she grabbed one of his paws and put it on her breast.

Starting to feel more confident, he let her embrace him, her larger form above him nearly sufficient to blot the surrounding room as he toyed with her breasts, cupping them and playing with her nipples, gently scratching them with the tip of his claws. She liked it, arching her back and hugging him tightly while she was playing with herself with one paw. The other had left Dilip’s abs, instead showing him the truly new experience of how erogenous the base of one’s tail could be.

“That’s the stuff yeah…” She hissed softly.

That was… new. His member glistened with pre, poised just below Carmelita’s waiting snatch, yet it didn’t feel right to make the first move. The arousal was just… different. There was the usual throbbing, but also a warmth and tingling in his entire body that just made him mellow, wanting to lie there and take in her ministrations.

“Now to show you how different it is for us...” She bent down to whisper in his ear before giving it a small love bite. “Let’s not keep the little guy waiting any longer shall we?”

Finally, she lowered herself onto him and their hips connected. With all the foreplay, he slid in smoothly, his prick fitting snugly inside her wet slit as she guided it inside with one paw while her thumb tweaked her clit. He could swear that for a second she looked up to the ceiling, muzzle open in a silent howl as his knot popped in.

Then…

Well of course he didn’t expect it to be the human way. Nor at this point did he expect to have to be particularly proactive. Still in the top position, Carmelita pressed herself against him until they were torso-to-torso, her breasts squished between them as he kept playing with her nipples, sometimes switching to the vestigials along her belly or squeezing her hips in his paws.

The surprise came when her snatch started teasing his dick. There was no pumping action or hip movement, just her inner muscles coiling and pressing around his member, teasing it mercilessly, milking it. He almost pulled out by reflex, only to find himself stuck when she tightened her vaginal muscles around his knot, keeping him virtually trapped inside her.

“Holy-!” He gasped, wrapping his arms around her as a tremor of raw pleasure ran all the way up his spine.

“Surprised?” She smirked. “It’s as I said: the ladies are in command with us dogs. Be thankful we aren’t hyenas.” She laughed, rhythmically squeezing his dick tightly with her vaginal muscles and raising her hips to tug on his knot.

She took her time to toy with him, and she made him discover that when a female was involved, sex didn’t stop when he cummed once. She had him in a vice, calves wrapped around his back, trapping him under her heavier form. Once, twice, thrice he let loose inside her, and each time she would coax him back into action before he had the chance to soften in a matter of second, herself climaxing just as many times as he had, tweaking her clit, letting him fiddle with her nipples as the two of them kissed relentlessly in their tight embrace. His heart was beating like crazy, the edges of his vision graying out from the continued strain on his whole being. He was also pretty sure she had left bite and claw marks around his neck and upper back. He didn’t mind, too enraptured by the literal milking she was enacting upon him.

It wasn’t until his balls ached from being sucked dry (or it damn felt like it) and that both canines were utterly exhausted that she finally dropped to her side, still hugging Dilip as his member was finally released, the Indian’s head cradled between her pillowy breasts.

Given how passive he’d been, Dilip was shocked to be so sore and exhausted. As her snatch finally released its grip on his knot and he slipped out, slumber finally claimed him, the smaller male spooned by Carmelita, a smile on his muzzle.

Disgruntled as he was from Starswirl suddenly teleporting him out of his bath, Rockhoof could recognize the urgency there was in speeding up making contact with Vivian’s recently founded colony. The Lady of the Lake, whilst certainly not outright evil, wasn’t one known to appreciate visitors or to be particularly lenient. That Equestrian airship… for whichever reason it was even there, they needed to get in touch with them.

Arrangements were made. Teams assembled. Contingencies taken to ensure all activities around Trecesson would still run smoothly and that their projects would still be seen to an end. In close proximity to the castle, multiple buildings were already rising, their foundations set and the beginnings of a structure emerging out of them like timber skeletons. Some were extra houses, others, more importantly, a workshop and a tavern.

If things kept going normally, Rockhoof should expect them to be finished before winter settled in fully. It was already early October here in Brittany, and with it came chilly rainfall and winds. As a peninsula, Brittany was subject to the whims of the Atlantic, and good weather seldom extended beyond summer. The jokes about liquid sunshine existed for a reason, and winter promised to come early, and strong.

That didn’t worry Rockhoof. Their stores were cushy enough to last them through a pretty rough winter.

Behind him, his little expeditionary force into Vivian’s territory awaited. Trecesson wasn’t very big, so it wasn’t more than two guards (one a unicorn, one a stag) and Miles, his lieutenant, but it was better than nothing. It also highlighted the little improvements they had made to their gear: they were still armoring themselves with a mix of retrofitted gambesons and chainmail, but now the craftsmanship was less shoddy, better suited to their smaller shapes.

Heavy yet flexible armor. Well-suited to patrolling the enchanted forest.

Guards on duty around the castle would typically don vivid colors, yellow and orange tabards usually, whereas those sent on patrol around Broceliande would replace those colors with brown or green cloaks (more like ponchos, a match for the lieutenants’ preferred clothing) above their armor. To go with that, they had canvas utility rigs to attach their gear, camo netting, and the ever-useful MOLLE daypacks (which were more the size of rucksacks for their smaller frames).

A mix of medieval and modern then. Much like their weapons: boar spears and halberds in melee, and large-caliber hunting rifles at range. With the size of hogs in Broceliande, you damn-well needed to pack a punch. Miles for instance packed a .45-70 lever-action, and experience had shown her the effects were well worth nearly dislocating her wings from the sheer recoil.

Rockhoof didn’t pack that kind of gear of course. He was more of a hooves-on fighter, and his own leather armor was more than enough when paired with his own Earth-Pony durability and signature combat shovel.

“Is everyone ready?” He eventually asked when the stag in the group was done chatting with his doefriend.

“Yessir!” Miles chirped, the pegasus landing by his side. “All geared up and prepped for the mission.”

“And the rest?”

“Emeric will keep an eye on the castle while we’re gone. No issue with that.”

“Good, last thing I want is something to happen while...”

“Meadowbrook will be fine.” Miles smiled sympathetically. “It’s not like we’ll be gone for long anyway.”

“Faust-dammit, am I really that obvious?” He chuckled lightly.

“Only to those in the know. You really don’t have to be worried. I saw her and Martin go down to the potions lab. They’ll probably still be there by the time we get back.” Miles reassured him before she opened a pouch on her rig with one of her primaries.

She pulled out a map covered in various annotations gleaned thanks to countless patrols sent out into the forest. Danger areas, routes frequently taken by predators, ancient ruins and convergence points in the ley lines the sort of which you’d rather steer clear of (and boy was the forest filled to the brim with those)...

“I mapped out a safe route towards Comper Castle for us. It’s a bit slow since there’s that giant mushroom grove we found last week we need to go around, but we shouldn’t have any issues with animals.”

“Good initiative Lieutenant, but that won’t be necessary.” Merlin said, the ghost popping up right next to her in Rockhoof in his equine form.

“Lemme guess… teleportation? Doesn’t Vivian have wards against that?” Her tone was flat, now entirely indifferent to the wizard’s habit of popping all over the place unannounced.

“She does, but that doesn’t mean we can’t teleport as close as we can. Gather your troops, we’re going to Paimpont.”

By which he was referring to the village that used to be in the very center of the forest, northwest of Trecesson and roughly halfway to Vivian’s domain. They had gone through the area the last time they visited the Lady of the Lake to ask for Excalibur.

Not unsurprisingly, the ruins had only gotten worse in the meantime. The same effect that allowed Trecesson to have so many harvests also made the forest grow at such an accelerated rate it was quickly growing back to a size it hadn’t had in millenia, and the little village with the stone houses that was Paimpont had been caught in it.

Lacking any inhabitants to fight back against the plants, most of the houses were now covered in ivy with saplings sprouting wherever possible, even if it meant cracking through asphalt or pavement. Paimpont had been turned into a verdant maze, with only the odd blotch of color from former cafés and storefronts that used to offer goods to passing tourists, their wares now strewn about by animals that had scoured the place for food, terrace tables lying overturned in the tall grass that covered the streets like a blanket. The odd shape of a parked car could be seen here and there, large forms hidden beneath ivy and foliage, long rendered beyond use by the sole fact roads weren’t really a thing anymore in the region.

The sole exception to that overgrowth was the little abbey they appeared next to on the western side of the village, near a small lake from which a herd of deer was currently drinking. They scattered when Rockhoof’s group teleported into existence.

Merlin eyed the abbey. Its tall grey walls were covered in ivy up to the halfway point, but then they had stopped. The building was still showing signs of abandonment, broken windows and all, but no overgrowth. In fact its gardens were pristine yet… untended.

“Remind me to come back and explore the place when time allows. I was never too fond of Christians, but they did have a habit of locking magical artifacts in their reliquaries. There may be something of use there.”The ghost said before motioning for them to continue their journey towards Comper.

Paimpont was soon left behind, and with it the more open skies the ruins provided as the group headed into the shade provided by the oaken branches extending above them, each of them rife with life as birds tweeted and sang at their passage. As always, moving through the forestry took time, time to find and follow one of the many game trails big enough to let ponies through, time to hack away a passage through thorns and brambles to go from one to another, and thorough compass checks to make sure they weren’t led astray, with Miles having to fly up and pop out through the canopy at regular intervals to look over the horizon and ensure they were going the right way.

Enchanted forests never were too convenient to wade through.

But they made it eventually. Maybe one hour later than initially planned thanks to a patch of cursed vines trying to cop a feel of Miles’ hinquarters and them being forced to find a way around it, but they did make it to Vivian’s lake, and they took in the changes.

Comper Castle… well, there was no doubt the Lady of the Lake had amassed herself a colony of her own. Instead of the complete ruin they had observed on their previous visit back when they asked for Excalibur, the building now presented itself proudly. Not fully-repaired just yet – they could see some makeshift scaffolding wrapped around a tower- but it had seen its holes patched up with fresh cement and recently-cut stones, its shutters replaced, and a whole new coat of lime wash that made it practically gleam in the bright afternoon sun. Atop its tallest tower, a pennant floated. Blue, yellow, decorated with a wave pattern and a seven-pointed star.

Ponies and deer milled around the building. A couple tents had been erected in the courtyard, safe within the walls. The castle was bigger than Trecesson, perched atop a promontory that overlooked the lake, but it didn’t have outbuildings, and judging by the freshly cleared patches around it, it was recent enough that the inhabitants hadn’t had the time to farm much, even with the forest enhancing yields to ludicrous levels. The only thing truly ‘ready’ was an apple orchard in close proximity to the castle which a couple locals were already harvesting.

But as a whole, with the area cleared, it had a more open aspect than Trecesson. Maybe it was the absence of a bocage and the lack of a palisade, maybe it was thanks to Vivian’s lake, but it felt like there was a lot more breathing room than in their own castle where Broceliande felt like it was looming over them at times. Few buildings occupied the fields: a barn for their sheep and goats, a tall mill in the process of being repaired, and off in the distance the overgrown remains of a hamlet that had burned down shortly after the Event. Now nothing but a supply of construction materials.

Oh and there was an airship of course.

There it was, landed in a field next to the castle, its appearance leaving little doubt as to where it came from: a garish purple canvas balloon with a gondola shaped much like a boat suspended beneath it. Color wise, it looked as though someone had tried to make Canterlot fly: bright white, gleaming brass wherever metal was deemed necessary and sharp curves that accentuated its maneuvering fins, the both of them subtly hiding a pair of propellers in the aft section.

Miles whistled.

“Yep, that’s no Goodyear blimp. No way we ever made something like that on Earth.” The pegasus affirmed. “You said it’s ponies?”

“Indeed.” Starswirl’s ghost nodded slowly. “At least as far as I could tell before the scrying spell cut off. I wish I could have more information about them but...”

“But?” Rockhoof tilted his head. “Come to think of it, shouldn’t you have heard about them earlier? I mean from your other half in Equestria.”

“If I was in Canterlot as usual… then yes, I would have. Unfortunately my own research carried me elsewhere and my living half is currently scouring the libraries of Pantera, in Abyssinia.” He explained. “It… has yet to yield information worth using.”

“Still about making spells stick to returnees?” Rock guessed, eliciting another nod from his long time friend.

“Aye… Equus unfortunately knows little about the melding of multiple brands of magic.” He sighed, turning his ethereal gaze back towards Comper Castle. “Looks like they’re sending a welcoming party. Stand straight, first impressions are important.”

A unicorn inside the castle had indeed spotted them, and after that it wasn’t too long before a group sallied out of the ramparts and trotted over to meet them. Much like them, they mostly consisted of deer and unicorns, and they had already picked out the guards in the bunch. A group of three left the gates, their appearance a sharp contrast compared to what Trecesson’s guards usually wore.

The armor was more flashy for one. A lot more. Wearing blue and yellow barding that matched the colors of their flag, they had decided to go for plate armor polished so well it shone like mirrors. Less flexible, less practical when patrolling Broceliande, but far more protective, admittedly.

There was also a difference in technology. Where in Trecesson you could observe an odd mix of modern and medieval, that mixture was absent there. The three they could see didn’t have military rigs, backpacks or hunting rifles to accompany the medieval armor, swords and lances.

In fact that extended to the whole colony. From where they were standing near the lake, there wasn’t a single hint of an antenna or generator that would testify as to the presence of modern tech, except maybe for modern fabrics and salvaged materials like plastic and tarps.

Finally, the welcoming party came to a halt a few paces in front of their group. Three knights: two unicorns (a mare and a stallion) accompanied by a regal-looking stag with an impressive 20-point rack.

“Halt! State your identity and intentions!” The unicorn mare spoke up in French, her voice firm yet melodious.

She was… unique that was for certain. Beneath her plate armor and yellow coat of fur was a shape that would make many a stallion turn his head. Taller than most stallions, she had ample shapes to her lithe form with coiled muscles waiting, subtly hidden and ready to be unleashed. Paired with her glowing blue eyes and oddly long curved horn, it was clear she wasn’t a normal unicorn. Her reddish mane was crisply braided, so as not to impede her fighting ability.

And with the obviously enchanted lance and broadsword combo attached to her barding, she would be one mean foe to tackle, one that could take and dish a lot of punishment.

Trailing behind her was the unicorn stallion. Oddly bulky for one of his species, yet shorter than the mare. He wore the same kind of armor, though with less trim to it, the plates of his armor left undecorated. His looks were… cold to put it simply. Light grey fur paired itself with a tightly braided ice blue mane that shared its color with his eyes. Stern. Sharp. Wielding an ice-encrusted longsword.

There was only one detail worthy of note to his plate armor: the symbol on his flank plates, right where his Cutie Mark would be. A heater shield.

Right. Rockhoof gauged him. Subordinate. Young. Distrustful, but will defer to his obvious superior. Probably a defense oriented spellblade.

Last in the trio was the stag. Regal though he may look with the imperious posture customary of older members of his species, the trim on his armor made it clear he was the unicorn mare’s subordinate. He was also the obvious veteran of the group as the oldest. Calmer, but attentive as he surveyed Rock’s group with his amber eyes. He had a thick grey coat of fur with black spots all over his back, and from his head sprouted a 20-point rack made all the more menacing by the blades he had added to it.

This wasn’t the kind of stag you’d want to be charged by, and if that didn’t work he still had a glaive that shone with the green glint of magic.

But hey, with a rack like that his nemesis must be doors.

“I am Lord Rockhoof of Trecesson, here with my retinue. We came when we caught note of the airship entering Broceliande.” He said, vaguely waving his hoof at the landed airship.

“Trecesson? Et bien, comptez-moi heureuse de finalement rencontrer nos voisins.” She smiled politely. “Our Blessed Lady mentioned your existence a few times, but current affairs have so far prevented us from paying you a visit, I’m afraid.” She eyed the guards he’d come with, eyes quickly sweeping over Miles before they rested on Starswirl’s ethereal form. “And I’m honored to see Merlin the Enchanter in our territory, but… are all those guards really necessary?”

“Much as I like this forest, Broceliande isn’t safe. It’s a necessity, I’m saddened to say, Miss...?” He trailed off.

The mare quickly brought a hoof to her muzzle, sheepish.

“Oh I’m sorry. How rude of me. I’m Catherine, previously Charles, from the Gendarmerie Nationale, now devout Paladin of the Lady. My companions are Sir Renard...” She waved her hoof at the icy unicorn behind her. “… and Sir Armand.”

“Paladin?” Miles blurted out. “Isn’t that like a gaming word?”

“Our Blessed Lady bestowed her boon upon me as I drank from her chalice. With my title come powers that ensure I am best suited in my task of protecting this castle.” Catherine explained. “You’re not from here.” The last sentence was a statement, not a question. Fluent as she was, Miles’ accent was hard to miss.

Rockhoof spoke up before she could.

“Lieutenant Miles here is American. She works as my right hoof and has done an excellent job so far.”

“An American? Here?” Catherine quirked an eyebrow.

“Saint-Cyr. Exchange program.” Miles told flatly.

The Paladin mouthed an ‘oh’ of acknowledgement, before Rockhoof spoke up again and shifted the discussion to another topic.

“Now… to be honest we were planning to visit you just for the sake of making contact and possibly trade, but the airship forced our hoof here.” Rock started. “Have you-”

Catherine quickly raised a hoof to halt him mid-sentence.

“My role here is security. These ponies pose no threat to us and I’ve thus let them inside. Our Blessed Lady is currently meeting the expedition leaders in her castle and they should be back in a moment. As for the airship’s Captain, you’ll find him in the castle with our Intendant. They’re arranging an exchange of supplies.”

“Very well then, shall we chat while we wait?” He offered.

Paladin Catherine and her subordinates warmed up to them in just a few minutes, the caution they had initially greeted them with washed away now that they were sure nothing bad would come out of the strangers. How was she so certain of that?

Cernunnos had a lot to do with it. Much like Trecesson, they had an agreement of their own with the Horned God of the Celts, and he would not tolerate any kind of violence or conflict to take place between them.

And so they chatted, eager to learn about their neighbor’s colony.

Comper was interesting in its own right. Catherine admitted life was a bit… odd when compared to France prior to the Event, but the Lady of the Lake had plenty of boons to share with them. So much so that life was rather comfortable, even though they lacked much in the way of advanced technology. Magic could go a long way making up for the difference, and the Paladin swore her enchanted weapons and armor were just as good as any gun she’d wielded back when she was still male and a gendarme.

Life was… simple. There was no fuss of paperwork, no bustling offices to wade through, no constant buzzing in your ear from this computer or that phone.

They had the Lady of the Lake to provide her boons and ensure illness didn’t befall them. They had her magic and enchantments, the wards to protect them. Catherine to ensure safety from the odd monster that passed through the wards.

And an elected Intendant to manage how they went about developing the castle.

“Vraiment, you’ll want to talk to him. I’m sure we can arrange some kind of trade between our colonies. Surely we have enough guards between you and me to escort caravans through the forest.” Catherine mentioned once she was done describing how their little colony worked after they found a spot on the lake’s shores to lay down.

“Logistics is something we’re trying to fix, come to think of it.” Rockhoof mused. “We’re trying to get some kind of air transportation, since game trails take so long to pass through and the roads are just gone. Right uh, Star?” He jerked his head towards where the ghost was lying on his belly.

“Magic is a complicated matter Rockhoof.” Starswirl calmly said, eyes not leaving the lake’s surface, expecting the ponies they awaited any second now. “For all we know it may take months before I can manage to make spells ‘stick’, so to speak. Even with Morgane’ help, mind. Flying carriages won’t be here for a while.”

“Flying what?” Catherine gained a puzzled look on her features.

“Carriage. A flying chariot drawn by pegasi. See Miles here? She could pull one but she’s literally the only flyer living in the region.” Rock said. “What we’re trying is temporary spells so unicorns could grow wings and do it.”

The Paladin simply nodded before she twisted her ears. Behind her and Rockhoof, the rest of the guards were chatting idly, much the same kind of conversation as they’d just had. Learning how life was in the neighboring colony.

Soon though, Vivian’s lake came alive with magic. Somepony was exiting her underwater realm. In a burst of water, two unicorn mares emerged before they were escorted to the shore by the piasts the Lady of the Lake used to defend her realm.

“Wait a second… I know these mares...” Rockhoof mumbled.

One was an azure unicorn with a purple cloak and wizard’s hat.

The other was light pink, with a two-toned cyan and purple mane. Like toothpaste.

Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon. Stuck on Earth.

Author's Notes:

I'm not one to censor myself much, but this story isn't intended to be outright porn, which is why for all its length it's only got three explicit scenes like that. Because I go by that either it's gotta work as a milestone in character development, or offer some amount of worldbuilding.

Mostly the latter in this case, to highlight how different it is for D-dogs. You had griffons, for whom despite their predatory instinct-driven nature are the antithesis of rough sex, and now you have the dogs where the bitch gets the upper hand. Nobody said it had to work like humans, eh. Their style is more... as a famous French alcoholic once put: 'C'est pas l'homme qui prend la mère, c'est la mère qui prend l'homme'. ^{Yes I have a shit sense of humor, sue me.}

Though the 'females are bigger' does open another can of worms too. D-dogs are prevalent in 'macho' countries like Mexico and India, yet you take those humans with that attitude and put them in bodies that flip the order of things around. Arguably that could result in a lot of female-on-male violence and serious long-term harm if they keep looking at it from a human perspective.

... which would be even worse if it were hyenas instead of D-dogs.

On the matter of the tribals... I did my best to research the topic and how it extended to Dominica. Pre-Columbian mythos is a bit harder to research than stuff like Arthurian legends and Celtic divinities. What I got was, in short:
- Tainos (arawaks) move in from the south across the Lesser Antilles and reach Dominica, settle
- Island Caribs (kalinagos) follow shortly after and evict the Tainos
- European settlers eventually turn up, mostly leave the island alone but then colonize.
- Before the Event, the Kalinagos were left with a reservation in the north-east of the island, otherwise the population was mostly creole

So from that I gave a reemergence of Tainos that now compete with Kalinagos for the island. Only the latter would be the real deal, the former are just regular inhabitants pulled into a cult because... well, they were backed into a corner really.