The Alliance of Dictators

Island Zero wrote:

I mean they keep RPing here rather than somewhere else that's more comfortable/private. Old habits die hard I guess.

I'm glad you are enjoying your time in the region by the way, dead as it is.

Well I'd rather them RP here anyway. Isn't that the point, lol? So that its more like theatre/ a play?

I didn't think we needed interpersonal monologuing therapy lol

The Galactic Empire of Zimbabwae2 wrote:

Well I'd rather them RP here anyway. Isn't that the point, lol? So that its more like theatre/ a play?

I didn't think we needed interpersonal monologuing therapy lol

Personally, I feel something was lost when just normal banter stopped happening in the RMB, but that's just me.

The Mighty Hyena wrote:

Personally, I feel something was lost when just normal banter stopped happening in the RMB, but that's just me.

For a time, people were on Discord, which was more organized and fast-paced than the RMB. But that's dead too now

Twilight Sparkle wrote:

Mere seconds after Solaris-Lead and his flight cleared the smoke and flames rising from the damaged cruiser, they were hit by six arcane beams and a concentration of heavy flak fire from the remaining airships which were slowly moving towards the battle. The airships (as well as the naval vessels below them) had assumed new tactics according to General Panoply's instructions and were now concentrating most of their firepower against one or two targets at a time to bring them down as quickly and reliably as possible.

More than half of the Equestrian planes had either been shot down or run out of missiles and left the fight to reload in the airships or at the more distant airfield, but those still carrying missiles broke off from the attack above the harbor and proceeded to assist the remaining ground fortresses. They too concentrated on one target at a time, attempting to bring down the heavily armored craft with several hits followed by carefully aimed bursts of heavy machine gun fire to any exposed and/or damaged systems.

*

All non-berserker Equestrian ground forces were now in full retreat back towards the city, the airships covering the retreat by launching occasional missile strikes and firing their arcane beam cannons in long, sweeping arcs that incinerated any Novumequine troopers unfortunate enough to be hit by them. On the ground, Sergeant Bullseye's sniper teams did their best to further slow down and demoralize the enemy by eliminating officers as well as anypony brave or careless enough to leave the cover provided by the trees and hills. Although the snipers did little actual damage to the overall strength of enemy force, every Novumequine soldier they managed to kill was a grim reminder of their invisible presence on the battlefield and the fact that anyone out in the open could become the next target.

Other than the snipers, the only Equestrians on the ground that were still actively fighting were the Earth Pony Berserkers. Driven by an unnatural, all-consuming rage and the strange, corrupting energies coursing through their bodies, they had completely abandoned their masters and were no longer taking orders from them. Instead of peaceful, small equines, they were like savage, carnivourous beasts, tearing through their enemies (and sometimes each other) in a mad rage.

Unfortunately for them, not even their rage provided them with immunity against good old firepower.

The incendiary rounds fired by the Basilisk tore through the howling Berserkers and set any survivors as well as the nearby trees on fire. A strong wind blowing from the North further spurred the flames, and soon large sections of the forest were on fire. The few surviving Berserker groups kept attacking, seemingly oblivious to the deaths of their comrades, but they were easily disposed of now that the majority of the horde was gone.

*

Baltimare command bunker, the war room...

"What do you mean, it wasn't their doing?" General Panoply asked, incredulous.

Colonel Iron Gauntlet swallowed hard.

"That's what Scribe Veiled Thought keeps saying," he replied. "She claims that most of the Earth Pony Berserkers under her command went insane and stopped responding to her commands before running off to attack the enemy. The same thing apparently happened to almost all Mind Mages commanding Berserker squads in the forest."

"This is... certainly an unexpected turn of events..." Panoply managed to say.

"Um, that's not all, either," Iron Gauntlet continued. "Veiled Thought also reports that just before losing control of her herd, she sensed another... ah... presence... invading the minds of her Berserkers."

Panoply raised an eyebrow.

"'Presence', Colonel?"

"Yes, sir. She claims that it practically pushed her out and took control of the Berserkers. She also noticed that the event occurred around the same time the battle in the forest reached its greatest intensity."

"I... see." Panoply stared at the main tactical display which covered almost the entire Northern Wall. The yellow dots depicting the enemy units were quickly closing in around Baltimare. Soon, the city itself would become a battlefield. "Well, keep me informed. Whatever this 'presence' is, at least it appears to be on our side. Or at least it seems opposed to the Novumequines... Perhaps that is a good sign. Reassign some of our Mind Mages here in the city to an attempt to commune with this unknown presence."

"Affirmative!"

Solaris-Lead grimaced as the beam rattled his Avenger, praying to the Sisters Divine for protection while he wrestled with the controls. “Angle your ship down, don’t fight the force. Get around it.” He voxed to his flight as did exactly that, escaping the magictech laser as did Solaris-2 and 5 though the other half of his flight wasn’t as lucky, exploding into great balls of fire as the damage became too much for them to handle. “All squadrons, we have overstayed our welcome. Fall back to the Celestial Reach, dump all the ammo you can. It’ll only slow you down.” Another voxxed command, on all channels this time.

The rest of Solaris and Scorpio Squadron broke off after doing one last run at the ships in the harbpur, Epée and Rapier Flights following suit after gunning down the last of the Equestrian fighters still over the water. The other three flights of Sword Squadron let their cannons roar until the barrels overheated, shattering the shields of the airships and pockmarking sections. Storm Squadron fired off the last of their hunter-killer missiles at the third fortress before peeling off and heading up into the clouds, chased after by more beams and all the AA the Equestrians could muster at them.

——

The scene was one right out of the humans’ depictions of hell, according to the native soldiers while the Novumequines considered it decently terrible but unfortunately not the worst they’d seen before.
Against the backdrop of a firestorm, the berserkers continued to tear into the northern flank, uncaring of the tortured screams behind them as they elicited sweeter cries from the Shetland still ahead of them. Like savages, they ripped whoever they could catch in two, biting into throats and taking the heads of the more notable ones, goaded on by the voice who praised their actions.

However many of them there had been before, the fighting and the fire had whittled them down to sixty-four souls. The voice lauded them as the strongest of their kind and rewarded them with his blessing, healing their wounds as their muscles grew to grotesque sizes, even the parts of their brains that the unicorn ‘doctors’ had cut away to make them more aggressive and susceptible to mental manipulation started to grow back. With a distincly inequine roar, the berserkers charged at the Shetlands once more and drenched the dirt with Equestrian blood. The novumequine officers recognised what was happening to their foe and desperately tried to rally their native soldiers before the berserkers could earn more boons of the Blood God.

——

The Warp Tear over the Montbel’s Valour’s crash site was a gash on reality, feeding off the war in multitudinous ways. Every strategy and tactic, every righteous or senseless kill, every sickness spread across camp, every emotional rush gave strength to the multiversal tumours that styled themselves as gods. Though the sisters of the Vengeful Spirit and the 54th Jakals kept watch over the spacial wound, there was little they could do to prevent its expansion. The sentries on duty this day watched in muted horror as the Tear reddened and grew in the direction of Baltimare.

The Hound watched over the fields outside Baltimare with rapturous enthusiasm, feasting on the spilt blood and collecting the skulls offered up to him as the berserkers began to welcome his presence in their minds, shoving aside the cowardly witches manipulating them from far behind their lines. So entertained was he as the last berserkers tore bloody rents in the 1st Shetland after the rest had been immolated that when the meek magicians attempted to speak with him, he allowed them to meet with some of his aspects rather than crushing their minds as he usually did.

The Mind Mages would later give General Panoply several contradictory reports on what the presence was. A feral Dog of War, an almost gallant Lord of Duels, a blood soaked Battlemaster or an imposing King on a Brazen Throne were the most common interpretations presented though others were also seen. A few mages sought to speak with The Hound directly and were infected with the same madness as their former pawns, endlessly chanting, “Maim! Kill! Burn!” before being put down by whatever survivors were still around.

Sanctuary Point wrote:

Solaris-Lead grimaced as the beam rattled his Avenger, praying to the Sisters Divine for protection while he wrestled with the controls. “Angle your ship down, don’t fight the force. Get around it.” He voxed to his flight as did exactly that, escaping the magictech laser as did Solaris-2 and 5 though the other half of his flight wasn’t as lucky, exploding into great balls of fire as the damage became too much for them to handle. “All squadrons, we have overstayed our welcome. Fall back to the Celestial Reach, dump all the ammo you can. It’ll only slow you down.” Another voxxed command, on all channels this time.

The rest of Solaris and Scorpio Squadron broke off after doing one last run at the ships in the harbpur, Epée and Rapier Flights following suit after gunning down the last of the Equestrian fighters still over the water. The other three flights of Sword Squadron let their cannons roar until the barrels overheated, shattering the shields of the airships and pockmarking sections. Storm Squadron fired off the last of their hunter-killer missiles at the third fortress before peeling off and heading up into the clouds, chased after by more beams and all the AA the Equestrians could muster at them.

——

The scene was one right out of the humans’ depictions of hell, according to the native soldiers while the Novumequines considered it decently terrible but unfortunately not the worst they’d seen before.
Against the backdrop of a firestorm, the berserkers continued to tear into the northern flank, uncaring of the tortured screams behind them as they elicited sweeter cries from the Shetland still ahead of them. Like savages, they ripped whoever they could catch in two, biting into throats and taking the heads of the more notable ones, goaded on by the voice who praised their actions.

However many of them there had been before, the fighting and the fire had whittled them down to sixty-four souls. The voice lauded them as the strongest of their kind and rewarded them with his blessing, healing their wounds as their muscles grew to grotesque sizes, even the parts of their brains that the unicorn ‘doctors’ had cut away to make them more aggressive and susceptible to mental manipulation started to grow back. With a distincly inequine roar, the berserkers charged at the Shetlands once more and drenched the dirt with Equestrian blood. The novumequine officers recognised what was happening to their foe and desperately tried to rally their native soldiers before the berserkers could earn more boons of the Blood God.

——

The Warp Tear over the Montbel’s Valour’s crash site was a gash on reality, feeding off the war in multitudinous ways. Every strategy and tactic, every righteous or senseless kill, every sickness spread across camp, every emotional rush gave strength to the multiversal tumours that styled themselves as gods. Though the sisters of the Vengeful Spirit and the 54th Jakals kept watch over the spacial wound, there was little they could do to prevent its expansion. The sentries on duty this day watched in muted horror as the Tear reddened and grew in the direction of Baltimare.

The Hound watched over the fields outside Baltimare with rapturous enthusiasm, feasting on the spilt blood and collecting the skulls offered up to him as the berserkers began to welcome his presence in their minds, shoving aside the cowardly witches manipulating them from far behind their lines. So entertained was he as the last berserkers tore bloody rents in the 1st Shetland after the rest had been immolated that when the meek magicians attempted to speak with him, he allowed them to meet with some of his aspects rather than crushing their minds as he usually did.

The Mind Mages would later give General Panoply several contradictory reports on what the presence was. A feral Dog of War, an almost gallant Lord of Duels, a blood soaked Battlemaster or an imposing King on a Brazen Throne were the most common interpretations presented though others were also seen. A few mages sought to speak with The Hound directly and were infected with the same madness as their former pawns, endlessly chanting, “Maim! Kill! Burn!” before being put down by whatever survivors were still around.

Baltimare Command Bunker, the Chamber of the Magi...

The Chamber of the Magi was a large circular room just down the main corridor from the War Room, its walls, floors and ceiling covered with glowing arcane runes. Large crystal obelisks formed a hexagram at the center, surrounded by extravagant silk cushions on which lay the 22 currently able-minded members of the Baltimare circle of magi. Three cushions were empty: the mages who had until moments ago occupied them had let their guard down and their minds had been invaded by what Scribe Veiled Thought assumed was the very same presence which had taken control of the Earth Pony berserkers.

"Stand strong, my brothers and sisters!", she encouraged the other mages, most of whom were deep in a meditative trance, guarding and shielding the minds of Veiled Thought and two other particularly strong-minded mages who were attempting to communicate with the strange being. "We are Masters of the Mind. The strength and power of the Old Masters are with us. Whatever this entity is, we are stronger than it as long as we dedicate ourselves to Harmony!"

General Panoply and Colonel Iron Gauntlet were standing by the entrance, observing the communication attempt without actually taking part in it.

"Are you sure this is a wise idea, sir?" Iron Gauntlet asked nervously. He could still hear the receding rage-filled screams of one of the "compromised" mages as he was being dragged away by the guards out in the corridor. "Whatever this thing is, it doesn't seem particularly friendly... Maybe we should just recall all our mages and have them deploy counterspells to shut out its influence?"

Panoply had a look of grim resolution in his eyes.

"Any counterspell with even the remotest chance of actually pushing out this thing would probably also disable and dampen most of our own magic for days if not longer... And that would surely cost us Baltimare. No, Colonel, I'm not going to give up this endeavor. Not while there's still a chance that we might benefit from this incident and turn it into a decisice advantage."

He took a few steps towards Veiled Thought and spoke to her, "Scribe, are you still connected?"

Veiled Thought gave the General a small nod. She was an older Unicorn mare with a pale purple coat and light blue mane that was starting to gray. Despite her age, her mind was as sharp as a razor and her magical powers, particularly her mastery over Mind Spells, were among the strongest Panoply had ever seen.

"We are," she said quietly. "After the previous incident, I've cut down the connection to a single telepathic thread which is furher guarded by our strongest wards and counterspells. Six of my mages concentrate solely on dampening the power of the unknown presence while another four stand ready to forcibly disconnect us if it starts to look like there's another attempt to invade our minds. The rest have prepared a series of counterspells developed by Her Immortal Ladyship Herself during the years after the Demon Invasion and designed to disrupt the influence of interdimensional entities in the physical world."

"Interdimensional entities? Is that what we're dealing with?" Panoply asked, somewhat surprised.

"I believe so," Veiled Thought replied. "Its thaumic signature bears some resemblance to Demon King Asdf and his minions, although this is clearly a different entity... I think it might be something that has only recently entered our world."

"I see... Have you found out its purpose and goals? Is this 'King on a Brazen Throne' opposed to the Novumequines? Is it an enemy or... or a potential ally?"

"It's too early to say, General."

"In that case, ask it. We're getting reports from the airship captains and our Pegasus scouts that at least some of the Earth Pony berserkers in the forest are still fighting the enemy. Apparently their strength and resilience have been vastly boosted. That's unlikely to be enough to stop the entire enemy army, but if we could get this unknown entity to augment more of our soldiers, we might actually stand a chance to win this battle. Please, try to inquire about its motivations and purpose here. Make it clear that if it attempts another mental attack against our mages, we will consider it an enemy and show it just what the Equestrianic Imperium is capable of... But if it behaves itself and is opposed to the Novumequines, then we might be willing to consider a... temporary alliance."

"As you wish, General."

Island Zero wrote:

For a time, people were on Discord, which was more organized and fast-paced than the RMB. But that's dead too now

Maybe that same fast-paced environment caused it to die. A lot of the conversations that happened in the RMB did so over days or weeks since people didn't necessarily log in every day. This convo is a fine example of that.
The issue was that not logging in for a couple days all too easily turns into not logging in for months, like it happened to me.

The Mighty Hyena wrote:

Maybe that same fast-paced environment caused it to die. A lot of the conversations that happened in the RMB did so over days or weeks since people didn't necessarily log in every day. This convo is a fine example of that.
The issue was that not logging in for a couple days all too easily turns into not logging in for months, like it happened to me.

Yeah, for what we do here, of the nature of writing long posts and stories this definitely belongs on the RMB (in my opinion).

Don't get me wrong; Discord is great. Buts it's more for the whole community writing quick posts and communication on a variety of topics; not really a good place for long, interactive fictional novel type posts.

The Galactic Empire of Zimbabwae2 wrote:

Yeah, for what we do here, of the nature of writing long posts and stories this definitely belongs on the RMB (in my opinion).

Don't get me wrong; Discord is great. Buts it's more for the whole community writing quick posts and communication on a variety of topics; not really a good place for long, interactive fictional novel type posts.

People were using it more as a way to engage in casual, off-topic discussion and brainstorming about stuff that would then be posted on the RMB. This was still the main space for roleplay.

Twilight Sparkle wrote:

Baltimare Command Bunker, the Chamber of the Magi...

The Chamber of the Magi was a large circular room just down the main corridor from the War Room, its walls, floors and ceiling covered with glowing arcane runes. Large crystal obelisks formed a hexagram at the center, surrounded by extravagant silk cushions on which lay the 22 currently able-minded members of the Baltimare circle of magi. Three cushions were empty: the mages who had until moments ago occupied them had let their guard down and their minds had been invaded by what Scribe Veiled Thought assumed was the very same presence which had taken control of the Earth Pony berserkers.

"Stand strong, my brothers and sisters!", she encouraged the other mages, most of whom were deep in a meditative trance, guarding and shielding the minds of Veiled Thought and two other particularly strong-minded mages who were attempting to communicate with the strange being. "We are Masters of the Mind. The strength and power of the Old Masters are with us. Whatever this entity is, we are stronger than it as long as we dedicate ourselves to Harmony!"

General Panoply and Colonel Iron Gauntlet were standing by the entrance, observing the communication attempt without actually taking part in it.

"Are you sure this is a wise idea, sir?" Iron Gauntlet asked nervously. He could still hear the receding rage-filled screams of one of the "compromised" mages as he was being dragged away by the guards out in the corridor. "Whatever this thing is, it doesn't seem particularly friendly... Maybe we should just recall all our mages and have them deploy counterspells to shut out its influence?"

Panoply had a look of grim resolution in his eyes.

"Any counterspell with even the remotest chance of actually pushing out this thing would probably also disable and dampen most of our own magic for days if not longer... And that would surely cost us Baltimare. No, Colonel, I'm not going to give up this endeavor. Not while there's still a chance that we might benefit from this incident and turn it into a decisice advantage."

He took a few steps towards Veiled Thought and spoke to her, "Scribe, are you still connected?"

Veiled Thought gave the General a small nod. She was an older Unicorn mare with a pale purple coat and light blue mane that was starting to gray. Despite her age, her mind was as sharp as a razor and her magical powers, particularly her mastery over Mind Spells, were among the strongest Panoply had ever seen.

"We are," she said quietly. "After the previous incident, I've cut down the connection to a single telepathic thread which is furher guarded by our strongest wards and counterspells. Six of my mages concentrate solely on dampening the power of the unknown presence while another four stand ready to forcibly disconnect us if it starts to look like there's another attempt to invade our minds. The rest have prepared a series of counterspells developed by Her Immortal Ladyship Herself during the years after the Demon Invasion and designed to disrupt the influence of interdimensional entities in the physical world."

"Interdimensional entities? Is that what we're dealing with?" Panoply asked, somewhat surprised.

"I believe so," Veiled Thought replied. "Its thaumic signature bears some resemblance to Demon King Asdf and his minions, although this is clearly a different entity... I think it might be something that has only recently entered our world."

"I see... Have you found out its purpose and goals? Is this 'King on a Brazen Throne' opposed to the Novumequines? Is it an enemy or... or a potential ally?"

"It's too early to say, General."

"In that case, ask it. We're getting reports from the airship captains and our Pegasus scouts that at least some of the Earth Pony berserkers in the forest are still fighting the enemy. Apparently their strength and resilience have been vastly boosted. That's unlikely to be enough to stop the entire enemy army, but if we could get this unknown entity to augment more of our soldiers, we might actually stand a chance to win this battle. Please, try to inquire about its motivations and purpose here. Make it clear that if it attempts another mental attack against our mages, we will consider it an enemy and show it just what the Equestrianic Imperium is capable of... But if it behaves itself and is opposed to the Novumequines, then we might be willing to consider a... temporary alliance."

"As you wish, General."

The Hound revelled in the new strength flowing into him as his new followers killed in his name, the potency of their offerings made so much more simply by having knowledge of him. It had been centuries since he last held this kind of power in this universe, even more amusing was that it was thanks to the little horses who had fled to this universe to get away from another version of himself that he had attained this power again.

Stirring up the Warp when they came to this universe had drawn the attention of the Gods back to this planet, vaguely warning the other equines of the dangers while the cultists hidden among them spread the true knowledge gave them venues for further corruption to spread from and the Warp Tear they’d inadvertently created on the planet gave the Four only further strength as ‘magic’ empowered both the Diarchal and Imperial forces plus the war itself breeding chaos across the realm. One could almost think that the Diarchal government was intentionally doing this but The Hound knew that this was just another one of The Raven’s convoluted ‘extended’ plans, not that he would ever admit to having not planned the events happening.

Bah, all that trickery overly complicated the simple act of killing. Just beat on each other until one combatant dies, that’s all there needs to be. His berserkers proved that perfectly once he’d tossed out those meek mages and they slaughtered the newest puppets of the Sisters with ease. The only damper on this day was the witches trying to speak to him again. He thought they’d be smart enough to learn not to get uppity with a god after he drove the other three mad. Perhaps one more lesson would drill it into them, let this one see his realm in all its glory.

—

Veiled Thought’s mental projection entered a vast wasteland littered with bones as far as the eye could see, the sounds of weapons clashing echoing endlessly. Volcanoes ringed the area and constantly erupted, raining ash as before her laid a fortress of brass with a moat of boiling blood. A drawbridge of charred wood fell before the mage and dared her to enter as everything about the fortress had an aura of fury and bloodshed. ENTER WITCH, a voice bellowed and nearly blew her away as hurricane gales tore past her.

Sanctuary Point wrote:

The Hound revelled in the new strength flowing into him as his new followers killed in his name, the potency of their offerings made so much more simply by having knowledge of him. It had been centuries since he last held this kind of power in this universe, even more amusing was that it was thanks to the little horses who had fled to this universe to get away from another version of himself that he had attained this power again.

Stirring up the Warp when they came to this universe had drawn the attention of the Gods back to this planet, vaguely warning the other equines of the dangers while the cultists hidden among them spread the true knowledge gave them venues for further corruption to spread from and the Warp Tear they’d inadvertently created on the planet gave the Four only further strength as ‘magic’ empowered both the Diarchal and Imperial forces plus the war itself breeding chaos across the realm. One could almost think that the Diarchal government was intentionally doing this but The Hound knew that this was just another one of The Raven’s convoluted ‘extended’ plans, not that he would ever admit to having not planned the events happening.

Bah, all that trickery overly complicated the simple act of killing. Just beat on each other until one combatant dies, that’s all there needs to be. His berserkers proved that perfectly once he’d tossed out those meek mages and they slaughtered the newest puppets of the Sisters with ease. The only damper on this day was the witches trying to speak to him again. He thought they’d be smart enough to learn not to get uppity with a god after he drove the other three mad. Perhaps one more lesson would drill it into them, let this one see his realm in all its glory.

—

Veiled Thought’s mental projection entered a vast wasteland littered with bones as far as the eye could see, the sounds of weapons clashing echoing endlessly. Volcanoes ringed the area and constantly erupted, raining ash as before her laid a fortress of brass with a moat of boiling blood. A drawbridge of charred wood fell before the mage and dared her to enter as everything about the fortress had an aura of fury and bloodshed. ENTER WITCH, a voice bellowed and nearly blew her away as hurricane gales tore past her.

Veiled Thought's mental projection recoiled and flickered from the sheer force of the immense, reverberating voice that issued from the impossibly massive fortress before her. Yet she didn't back down or show fear. Her fellow mages fed more power to her projection and kept open the tenuous telepathic connection that allowed her to enter this blood-soaked realm of eternal war. Together, the remaining Baltimare mages channeled the power of the Old Masters, an ancient collective of dominant souls that predated the Three Kinds themselves, having first emerged among the shamanistic upper class of the prehistoric Proto-Ponies hundreds of thousands of years ago. In this reality, where the Hound and his ilk had been forgotten and mostly dormant since time immemorial, the powers that protected and guarded Veiled Thought were considerable, representing the combined will of countless generations of magically attuned individuals. Their version of Harmony was harsh, brutal and oppressive, yet it embodied a kind of Order nonetheless.

"I accept your invitation, Dog of War," Veiled Thought's projection said/thought (there really wasn't any difference between the two in this mercurial realm defined by the whims of its master). "But know that my mind is my own and remains guarded. Attempt to invade me, and we will retaliate."

Having said that, she stepped on the drawbridge and entered the Brass Citadel. Inside the blood-soaked walls, twisted iron gargoyles sitting on every parapet observed her progress silently, malevolent hatred gleaming in their black eyes. Countless bones, both ancient and more recent, clattered and rustled under her hooves as she made her way deeper into the fortress. This was a place of single-minded intent, willed into existence by a vast and ancient mind utterly devoted to combat, bloodshed, hatred, anger and victory in battle at any cost.

As a mage, Veiled Thought was a stranger in this realm, although she possessed plenty of one quality the Hound was known to appreciate: bravery. She didn't show fear or falter as she made her way deeper and deeper into the citadel. Her mind remained guarded and her telepathic voice remained steady as she spoke to the still unseen master of this place.

"You have aided our warriors in battle today, Dog of War," she said. "That does not make you our ally, but perhaps... just perhaps... we share a common enemy."