I slipped into the shadows, by the cast of a quick umbra spell, letting me be hidden from wandering eyes. That wouldn't be enough though, it would only suffice until I got to a more scarcely populated area. While the stench of the masses could hide me for a time, in the darkened halls and corridors of this castle, and indeed, the mine below, or perhaps above, my distinct smell would make me easy to trace. I hid around corners, clinging to the dark, listening with great patience to try and outmaneuver the patrols that were looking for Nadene and Trixie. Eventually, I made it out of the castle area, and into the mine.

Once I found myself in relative solitude, I knew I'd have to mask my scent. I undressed myself, removing my specially made garb, and covered myself in the dust that filled those carved stone passageways. I caked myself with the earth, so that no piece of skin was left exposed to the air. The one thing about dust, sand, and dirt, is it's tendency to get into everything, something that actually played to my favor. I scraped loose dust from the floor, and rolled my clothes in it, before putting them back on. This had to be done quickly, lest I be 'caught with my pants down'.

Once the deed was done, and I was sufficiently filthy so my scent would be that of the stone and thus not traceable, I reapplied my umbra shade, as well as a muffling spell. It would leave me mute while active, but I'd rather not make any sound. No sight, no scent, no sound, even the vibrations of my footfalls, which I know the dogs can track through the wall, would be so muffled and distorted by the spell, as well as the cushion of my shoes, that I was confident they couldn't track me. The only thing that could indicate my presence would be touch, or, perhaps some magical sense, though I was already sufficiently protected against mind readers due to my pain spell, and touch could only help if I was in contact with them, and by then, it would be far too late.

The only question remaining... where to strike? I passed a barracks on the way here, it's as good a place as any, though there are likely more than necessary within.

As the dogs settled met around a table for dinner, a sense of anticipation filled them, though not the joyous kind. There was to be a celebration the next day, for their success in capturing the so called 'cursed bird'. Oddly, he didn't seem so mighty now that he was in chains. They had even killed a number of his crew, and he had done nothing to stop it. Rather, he couldn't do anything to stop it. They had surrendered, and they were executed in cold blood. That, however, was not something these proud warriors could be proud of. They would rather have killed them in combat, proven their skill and worth, honed their talents, and be honored, in front of all the females. No... the was no honor or glory, or even justice in what had been done. The massacre of prisoners, it was not their way. Every being has it's use, and that wanton death seemed like such a waste.

The pony who's name only the alpha knew, he was a cruel being, and they all saw the way she looked at him, but he was necessary. He had his use as well. Because of him, they were able to get Griffin. The supposed feast tomorrow, when they executed the pegasi, they would then cook them. Meat was hard to come by, and perhaps a more starved and desperate clan would have taken better to the idea of eating captives, but they had gems, not in terrible excess, but enough to get by. There would be a party tomorrow, but the attendees would not be jovial. They, at least, had some respect. Even the bodies of the enemies pulled from the lesser ship, they may have been left out in the open, but only so that the animals of the wild could lay claim to them.

"I do not like it."

"It is not our way."

"It is senseless."

"The pony is senseless. He is cunning, but in the midst of victory, he has forgotten his cunning in exchange for depravity."

"It is the alphas will that we obey his. It may mean the suspension of the very traditions she has given to us, but until he has come to the end of his use, we will do as he asks. You know the price of disobedience."

As the many hounds that dined conversed amongst themselves, a few noticed the torches along the wall flicker.

"Ventusssssss, klepto aero." It was no more than a whisper, but it was heard plainly by all, due to their canine hearing. They all jumped to their paws, scrambling for their arms, just as the torches went out.

And in the shadows, before suffocation, the hounds saw a pair of glowing blue eyes. There were no screams, no struggle, only a peaceful, breathless sleep, followed by the scraping of a dagger against flesh and stone.

Early in the morning, a pounding was heard upon the door to the alpha's chambers. While she remained silent, Gold Trim deemed the racket insufferable, and loudly shouted obscenities.

"You miserable mutt! Was was so important that you woke me so bloody early?" Fia suppressed a growl at how the pony spoke to the highly trusted ironclad giant on the other side. Ringo could easily crush him, but Trim's position allowed him a bit of arrogance.

"Many apologies. There is a... situation at the eleventh barracks." The smooth voice echoed from the armored suit.

"So? Take care of it."

"Please, go back to sleep." She instructed her bed mate. "I will investigate this." Fia stated, which brought a smile to the unicorn's face. Her voice was like oil, smooth the the point of being slippery, and full of hidden spite.

The scene that she came upon was a strange and confusing one. There were no signs of struggle, yet an entire barracks, forty warriors, all lay dead. Their food from the evening before lay on the table, half eaten, the torches had gone out but not from having burned themselves down. The candle she carried illuminated the bodies of her clan, and while all were dead, some had been intentionally laid in positions that suggested a violent death, clutching at their necks or with their limbs splayed out, but with none of the signs of combat around. They had slit throats, but their blood drained into calm pools, no splatters or lines, and there were no scuffles in the dust around them. No drawn weapons, no damaged gear. The rest were lain side by side, arms by their sides, face up, and with their eyes closed, in positions of peace that made the rest of the guards check to see if they were truly dead, or merely sleeping.

"What is the purpose of this?" She asked in a whisper, as she dipped a finger into a pool of blood on the floor.

"Lady Fia, over here." One of the soldiers from a different barracks called her attention to the wall. In it was carved letters, but given the shallow cuts in the stone and poor lighting, she could not read them. Running her blood coated finger along the cuts gave them a different shade, and she felt along the lines until the words could be more easily read in the dim light.

"Blood for blood. Guard... how many of Griffin's crew were killed?"

"Fourteen ma'am."

"And, how many, among the suffocated guards, had their blood spilled?"

"Fourteen ma'am."

Her eyes shot wide. Fia rushed from the barracks towards the holding chamber, where the guards were still positioned, faithfully keeping watch.

"Guard... did any pass through here on your watch?"

"No ma'am."

"And did the night watch report any disturbance?"

"No ma'am."

"Let me see the prisoner."

The fox entered the chamber to find Griffin still laying where he had been set, still chained, and wide awake. He glared at her, but did not speak. But his eyes. These were not the same eyes she had seen yesterday, those kind eyes with a hint of malice hiding just behind. These eyes were steely, almost cold, devoid of the fiery passion Griffin had.

"It... can't be."

Only one way to tell. She checked the bucket that was placed under him, to find it empty. While highly unlikely, it was possible that he hadn't voided or defecated all night and for all the day before, but those eyes. Hmm...

"You think yourself clever? What, sew the seeds of fear and distrust among my people? Make them fall prey to paranoia? Sleep with one eye open, constantly watching their back so you don't plant a knife in it?" The prisoner remained silent. "How did you do it? Did you escape, then lock yourself back up before morning? No... there wouldn't have been enough time to get that far, and then back here after, not without being seen, and the guard reports that nobody has been in or out. You couldn't have escaped without help, else there'd be signs of a struggle in here."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been tied up in here all night."

"You know exactly what you did. You're the only one capable of something like that." She replied.

"Me, and my crew."

"How did you know some of your crew members escaped during the execution?"

"What? I didn't know."

"The fact that you just denied it without a single hint of hope or surprise tells me you already knew. And the only way you could have known is if we have a spy among us." She paused, thinking. The empty bucket, those unfeeling eyes... "Where is Griffin?"

"What do you mean? I am Griffin." The prisoner stated, confused.

"Do not take me for a fool." She drew a kris knife and pressed it against his throat. "You may look like him, but even laying down, you do not carry yourself the same way. You may have fooled the others, but I am more cunning. I will ask you again... where is he?" She pressed her knife against the prisoner's throat, letting it draw a single drop of green blood. She pulled the knife away and held it up curiously, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks.

"Well fuck. Ya got me." With a flash of green flame, a thick bodied serpent took the place of her prisoner and coiled around her, attempting to squeeze the breath from her lungs. Fia had, of course, survived countless assassination attempts, and promptly bit the snake right behind then head, tearing out a chunk of it's flesh. The creature writhed in pain as it released her, it's form destabilizing till it returned to being a black, insect like pony, thrashing about on the ground till it drowned in a pool of it's own ichor.

The vixen recoiled, backing away till she was against the wall, overcome by sheer terror. Not by the attack on her person, but by the only logical conclusion that could follow. If there was a spy here, then where was her prisoner?

"By the gods... he's loose. I haven't much time."

Fia rushed down the passageways, every dog in her path either getting out of her way, or being shoved out of the way by their alpha as she walked hastily towards her bedchamber.

'Blast, I was careless. I was going to let things play out till the execution, but now I have to try and pacify him till the clan leaders arrive. It wouldn't do well for them to come here and find us in a state of utter disarray. That may as well be an invitation to invasion, and I will NOT be some drooling slob's toy again.'

Fia threw open the doors of her chamber, to find Gold Trim awake and dressed in his usual apparel.

"I trust the situation has been handled?" She remained silent. "Good, though it's a little late to continue where we left off, I'm already dressed... that is unless you really want to go another round.... that's it, isn't it? You're insatiable! You just can't get enough of m..." In the middle of his narcissistic rant, she drove her dagger into his chest.

"Stop. Talking. You spoiled brat. You annoy me."

"But... you need me, who else can give you magic?" He asked weakly as he sputtered blood out his mouth.

"Since Griffin has escaped, your services are no longer required. I have to try and do damage control and clean up after your little hissy fit. I may yet salvage this." And she left him dead on the ground.

"Guard?" She called out of the room. "Clean this up will you. Burn the body, but make sure to put his head on a pike."

"Ma'am?"

"Right now I have to try and make a deal, and he did say he'd see this pony's head on a pike after all."

'Okay, okay, I can handle this. Yes, there's a bit of bad blood, but nothing that can't be overlooked. An eye for an eye. Right now we're even... Wait.. the way he looked at me back when he was in chains, before he escaped. Was that the meaning? Was that his intent? He settled the score so we could negotiate on even ground? It's so complex it's frustrating! The plan was simple, get Griffin, public execution, I sit by while there's a blood bath, then sweep in and clean up. That idiot had to go an piss him off, and now I'm in deep shit. I already sent word to the other clans, they'll be here in a week. Wait... okay... I've got it. Yeah... I'll just pacify him, and then when the other clan leaders arrive, I'll let them fight over who gets to kill him! Then I can still finish off the remainder. This'll work.'

"You there, send the word that I want an audience with Griffin. Let every hound, bitch, and pup know that I'm willing to negotiate. If he's found, he is NOT to be antagonized in any way. This is my will."

"Your will be done ma'am." The dog ran off to perform his duties. I found my way to Ringo's barracks, still wearing that suit of armor, resting on his giant curved maul. "To me Ringo. I need some security right now." The old dog huffed wordlessly, hefting his weapon over his shoulder and lumbering after me almost lazily. We moved to a kind of panic room. Surrounded by guards, iron doors, bolted from both sides, sealed to prevent gassing, and a large, decorated well in the center.

The well was easily big enough around to fit a minotaur, maybe two, and all along the walls were shelves that stored water drawn from it. This was the thing that the fortress was named after, the 'ancient well'. It is said that it existed back when many gods roamed the world, not just the pony princesses, and it is so deep, it goes straight to the underworld.

"Tell me Fia..." Ringo asked as he removed his helmet. "What has you in such a fit? You are more panicked than a hare in a wolf's mouth." Ringo was an odd dog. He was old, incredibly so, the breed being a Siberneighan Husky, but with that age came wisdom. He possessed titanic strength which allowed him to wear such heavy armor, and wield such a massive weapon, despite his frail looks. He never did tell me his secret. His fur was falling out in places, and he spoke with a thick accent, but he was sharp as a dagger and three times as deadly. Despite all that, he was my guardian. Far too old to be my father, but a grandfather perhaps.

Ringo had taken me in as a child, when he found me on the streets, if you could really call the maze of tunnels in this place 'streets' and had raised me ever since. He taught me the old ways, from the ancient times. I truly don't know how old he is. Possibly centuries. He never said, and always laughed when I asked.

"Fia... you are lost to the world again. You truly must be disturbed. Tell me child, what is on your mind?"

"I fear I have made a terrible mistake. Griffin is loose inside. He's already killed a whole barracks of soldiers, without so much as a struggle."

"And is this a problem?"

"Not exactly, it's the message that came with it. It's confusing. I can't tell whether he was leveling the playing field to open negotiations, or trying to spread fear."

"And do you fear him?"

"Of course I do!"

"And why?"

"You know what he's done! What he's capable of! And because I let that idiotic pony have his way, I've gone and angered him. I just need to pacify him until the other clans arrive, but I don't know how."

"Come now child. What about what you told me, when you read of him in those newspapers hmm?"

"That despite his cruelty... the things he did were for the greater good."

"And?"

"And that I admired what he did, because he was helping those who were in a state I am no stranger to."

"Aaaaand?"

"It was because he had also come from difficult times, which is something we have in common."

"So then, you understand his mind. Tell me, what does he want? Is it vengeance? Bloodshed?"

"His family. He wants his family."

"Fia... you always were prone to panic, and in those times, you would come to me seeking my wisdom, but all I have ever done is ask questions, and let you figure out the answer for yourself. You are a smart girl, but you need to give yourself more credit. The fact is, you no longer need me."

"Don't say that Ringo..."

"Oh, please, you act like I'm dying. I have another ten, twelve years left."

"You said that twelve years ago."

"And as long as I keep saying it, maybe I'll live forever. Who knows?"

"But what if he won't hear me out? What if he comes for me? He's incredibly dangerous, and I don't think even you can stop him."

"Fia... remember, you have a gift from the gods! Your flames can scorch even the very stone. I watched you use them when you were but a child, to bring an end to the leaders of this place and take the throne yourself. Should the time come, wield them again."

"Thank you Ringo." I wrapped my arms as far around his massive steel body as I could. "I think I know how to take care of this."

"You there. You're Gilda, are you not?" The griffoness winced, not really sure what was to become of her. The captives weren't forced to work, rather they were held in camps under guard, day and night. They were loosely chained so they could move relatively freely, but not enough to fight, and there was such an overwhelming guard presence that each prisoner had at minimum two pairs of eyes on them at all times.

"I am."

"Good. I am the alpha of this den, the one responsible for your capture. When you see Griffin tell him I'm ready to negotiate for your release. Just find the nearest dog, that'll lead him to me."

"That's an awfully crude method..."

"The most direct route is often the best one."

In the shadows and darkness, a pair of glowing blue eyes faded away.

"It's obviously a trap."

Author's Notes:

The best laid plans, never go to plan. If the attack is going well, it's an ambush. If the enemy is retreating, they're really regrouping, and that diversion you're ignoring is the main attack force.

Also, Griffin escaped after being captured for a DAY.

Aslo, a little less gore than you expected, but don't worry, it's coming. A little further down the road.

I had originally scoped Ringo out to be the little female fox in a massive suit of armor, that somehow had the strength to wield that huge thing, but I instead decided to make Fia the alpha, so thats why I was so vague in his prior descriptions.

Four updates, three days, and very little drop in quality!

Watching the new episodes really kicked off my creativity and helped snap me out of my slump.