It had been a hard year for Swartt Sixclaw and his vermin. They had suffered severe losses from attacks by crows, and an outbreak of fever killed even more of the horde. Bluefen, Swartt's wife, died after giving birth to a child. Swartt himself had fallen ill, but his determination to find and slay Sunflash the Mace had kept him alive. When he recovered from his fever, he did not devote any energy to grieving for his wife or caring for his infant son. He tasked an old ratwife with the responsibility of looking after the ferretbabe.

Now Swartt lay on a cushion in his Warlord tent, smoking a cigarette because he was a rebel. He slicked back his headfur with hair gel as he waited for his seer, the vixen Nightshade, to return. He had not slept all night.

Nightshade finally entered the tent, with caution. She was unsure what sort of mood the Warlord would be in.

Swartt sprang up and shouted in his Brooklyn accent, "Where in da name o' fur 'n' fangs have ya been, vixen? Make your report, an' it better be good!"

The vixen adopted a wheedling tone. "Lord, I have spoken with some dogs who were fleeing from the place called Ponyville. They said that a great badger who called himself Sunflash the Mace fought a battle with them, and drove all the Diamond Dogs out of the area. They described him as having a yellow stripe down his back instead of a white one like most badgers have. Sounds a bit like our friend Sunflash, don't you think?"

Swartt delivered a blow that knocked the fox to the ground. "Ya dope! Dat badger is not my friend, he's my enemy, you dig?"

"Yeah, I know, I know. I was just-"

"Awright. Now tell me about dis Ponyville place. Where is it, what kinda creatures live there?"

Nightshade drew in a deep breath. "Ponyville is a small village, less than a day's journey south of here, populated by only a few score of horses. Some of them have horns and are called unicorns, and others have wings and can fly, like the one who escaped from us along with the stripedog, but from what I have heard, these groups are small minorities. Most of them are ordinary horses with no magical power whatsoever."

Swartt took a drag on his cigarette. "An' none of 'em have horns an' wings? Just one or the other?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"Okay," the ferret Warlord said evilly as he pulled on his black leather jacket. "Tell da horde to prepare for battle. Dis Ponyville sounds like a good place to build my stronghold. We can easily defeat a few score of horses."