A huddled group of ponies sat in the center of the plaza, where the heat from the pillar was more pronounced.  They had blankets wrapped around them and bowls of mushroom soup to help warm them up.  They were a ragged bunch, unkempt, carrying few possessions; even their fur seemed pale and limp - and yet there was a hint of something in their eyes that Forgath liked.  They were watched over by a sextet of mixed guards and scouts who spoke occasionally to those nearest, offering gentle encouragement.  Not the most imposing way of carrying out their duties, but these were soon-to-be-minions, not prisoners.