Ye Olde Year of 03
The young griffon page scrambled through the stone hallways, desperately trying to keep a hold of a hefty stack of scrolls. Finally, she spotted her destination up ahead and skidded to a halt before the granite doors. Shuffling the scrolls into one arm, she rapped on the door and let herself in before the first echoes had vanished, knowing that the information she was carrying was of upmost importance. “General! I’ve got the finished reports of our enemies’ movements for your perusal!”
General Trixie of the Griffon Kingdoms didn’t immediately turn around, spending a few more precious moments admiring the mid-Summer sunlight bathing the balcony. She could feel that it was the solstice, even without looking at the calendar lying under a veritable mountain of maps on her desk. I will give those lowly ponies one thing. They certainly are good at keeping accurate time.
“Well? Read them to me.”
“Uh… read them to you?”
“Yes, yes.” Trixie turned around and frowned at her. “Read them to me. I wish to visualize the battlefield without the tedium of leafing through those reports to get it.”
“R-right! Of course…” the page stammered, slipping the stack of scrolls into the curve of her wings so that she had a claw free to pick the topmost one up. Trixie settled down next to her desk as the page started reading.
“The field reports from our own units are all promising. We continue to do battle with the Elks on the western front, though there is no change in battle lines. You were right about those flying ships they sent south trying to interfere, and our aerial teams stationed in Konja managed to beat them back successfully!”
“And what of the troops that were sent on the special mission?” Trixie asked.
“Um… ah, they’re progressing!” the page said, finding the appropriate report. “They’re making their way on foot, as per your instructions to avoid detection, so it will probably take them several months yet to reach their destination. The latest report pins their location somewhere in Ternej.”
General Trixie pushed stacks aside with casual indifference to their fate, clearing room on her table for a large map of the known world. She started making marks on it with a quill. “So all is going according to plan. I suppose I can’t hope that our enemies aren’t faring the same…”
“Erm, actually…” the page cleared her throat and shuffled several reports to the front. “It appears that the battles between our forces and those of the elks are the only ones waged this year so far.”
Trixie froze in her work and look up, showing surprise for the first time. “What?”
The page swallowed and tried to sound professional. “Our intelligence isn’t as complete as it could be, but from what we can tell the buffalo tribes and the tapir fleets have just been staying put, save for some general troop movements to the east. And the ponies appear to be shoring up their defenses everywhere. Mostly along the eastern-most borders of Equestria, though one report says they’ve abandoned the oceans to the east in favor of returning to land.”
“That makes no sense.” Trixie muttered, returning her gaze to the map. “Our allies in the Naqah Caliphate should have taken advantage of their superior forces and crushed them.”
The page now looked miserable as she pulled her last report out from the bottom. “Well… um… it seems like… they haven’t moved an inch. They’re all staying put where they are.”
“What? But that makes no sense?!” the General exclaimed. “We practically claw-delivered the destruction of the pony naval fleet to them! They agreed to take our intelligence and use it to draw all the Equestrian forces into one place and crush them!”
The General just barely bit back adding, So that our forces could sweep in amid the open north and drive them both into the Sea. There was no reason to divulge private strategy to the simple help, after all.
The page, meanwhile, didn’t seem to notice the near slip. “Perhaps the situation is more dire than they told us. I mean, err, there must be some reason why they didn’t press their advantage. Right?”
Yes, they’re keeping secrets from us. Trixie thought, contemplating the new information. Her focus stayed on the updated map in front of her. Most of the information wasn’t new, and indeed some of it had been anticipated months ago, but the problem of the camels bothered her. It didn’t make any tactical sense for them not to have attacked.
Are they really in league with the ponies behind our backs? They could be preparing for a combined offensive of the north, which would be nothing but advantageous for us if they could spear through the cervid’s homelands. But then why not include us in the assault? Something is amiss…
Aloud she said, “That’s all for now. You can leave the reports on the end of the table; I need to think about what to do from here.”
“Of course!” the page said, relief causing her to calm down noticeably. She placed the stack carefully down where it would not disturb the general’s latest work and rushed quickly from the room. She barely had time in her haste to remember to catch the door before it boomed closed and disrupted her commander’s thought process.
The General’s attention however had turned to the open window again and her thoughts had spiraled inwards. It was the middle of the third year since formal war had been declared and so far the world had changed drastically. And yet it was already starting to feel routine.
As she sat contemplating troop movements and diplomatic treatises, the armies of the world were finishing gathering the summer’s first crops and preparing their equipment for the days ahead. Soon the troops would be on the march again and over the course of the fall battle lines would be drawn, cities would topple, and the shape of the world would change once again. As the year grew late, the battles would grow fiercer, each nation more desperate than the last to claim one more prize.
And then the winter would come, driven down from the north on the breath of Windego and Yeti and Yuki-Uma and other creatures of the cold. And no magic, not the unicorn might of the ponies or the runes of the cursed elks or even the flame spirits of the camels could hold them back. Each nation would spend the winter months trapped in whatever cities they’d managed to claim with nothing better to do with their time than train new soldiers to brave the battlefields come the spring.
“But this year will be different from the last.” Trixie promised, staring determinedly out the window at the western lands beyond. “This year will be known as the turning point, when the mighty Griffon Kingdoms stopped playing around and took back what’s rightfully ours. And I know just how to start…”
…
Admiral Peal stood on the deck of his ship and glared out at the Azure Reaches. One didn’t need to be a dream-walker to divine his mood, and his crew had long ago learned to avoid him when he was in one of his tempers. They moved about the ship with shoulders hunched and snouts curled, trying their best to stay away from his side of the ship unless absolutely necessary.
“One year…” Peal growled, adjusting his stance against a particularly tall swell automatically. The rising sun burned into his eyes as he stared east, but he didn’t look away. “One year we’ve been circling Killa and what has it been for? Sosa!”
This last name he shouted and his first mate quickly scrambled over. Sosa was a capable one for a member of the low class, able to run the ship with the tight discipline Peal required, and his breastplate and conical hat were somehow always shiny. Peal had no doubt that the tapir would earn his Harmonic name before the tour was up. Even if he had to recommend the sailor himself.
“What’s wrong Admiral?” Sosa asked, coming to attention and flicking a glance over the rail. “Have you spotted anything the lookout hasn’t?”
“Nothing.” Peal rumbled, like a storm cloud gathering just on the horizon. “I’ve spotted nothing. I’ve continued to spot nothing every single day since we were ordered out of the Reaches! Tell me Sosa, do you still believe that the buffalo are out there?”
Sosa blinked and carefully selected his words. “Admiral, I’m sure that the Baku know what is best. And the defense of our capital is of the highest importance. They are amassing to strike-”
“But strike they haven’t!” Peal roared, causing all activity on the ship to pause and stare up at their captain. He shot them all a dark glare to get them scurrying back to work, and then continued in a more controlled tone. “Seventeen times we’ve circled this island, defending it from an assault that has never come. Why? We were poised to strike any port along the continent’s entire southern coast out in the Reaches, but we gave all that up to repel the buffalo invaders in our homeland. So why aren’t there buffalo invaders in our homeland?”
“Perhaps they were scared off?” Sosa suggested, clearly not happy to be having this conversation. Admiral Peal had always spoken his mind in the past, but this was bordering on treason.
“Or perhaps they never intended to invade at all…” Peal grumbled, returning his gaze to the sea. The Baku spend too much time in their own heads; they have forgotten how the real world works…
“Admiral!” A cry came up from the lower deck. “The dreamer is talking!”
Peal’s face paled slightly. For a half second he thought that the Baku were going to punish him for his treasonous thoughts. You never know if they were listening… but he shoved his doubts aside and hurried to the foredeck.
Most of his crew had stopped what they were doing and were clustered around the dreamers’ box, but they made room as Peal and Sosa approached. The one who had called out, a deckhand named Torres, was scribbling down numbers into a notebook chained to the wall of the box. “She just started, sir. Coordinates, it sounds like…”
Peal grunted and leaned into the small box. Inside, the dreamer floating in a bright aura almost a foot above her bed. Dreamer Leaves was their ship’s connection to the dream lands. She slept in this little box all day, every day, sustained by her power and delivering any messages the Baku needed. Right now she was talking numbers in her sleep but stopped as Peal approached, somehow divining he was near.
“The buffalo forces at sea move away to the south east…” she spoke, her voice accompanied by a sound of rustling under her words. That sound of the wind blowing through trees was the sign that she was speaking with her power, and was the origin of her Harmonic name Leaves. “They gather in their sands to the north on the border still. Maintain course to the north, for they may try to cross the channel…”
Peal turned away with disgust, ignoring the rest of her words. Of course they are still camped on the north; they are ALWAYS camped on the north. We should be fighting the forces at sea. Why can’t the Baku see that?
He paused and went over what Leaves had said first. They were moving south east, away from everything, except…
“All hands, get ready to head out to the deep seas!” he cried, stamping away and waving to get them moving. “We are making for the Reaches! And pray you all can get this tub moving fast enough to catch them!”
“Sir!” Sosa shouted, hurrying to catch up to him as he stormed about. “You can’t defy the Baku! They’ve ordered us to the north!”
“It’s a fool’s bluff, Sosa. The real fight is happening now, while we sit on the sidelines and miss out!” Peal’s ears rang softly with the sound of distant thunder, each one seeming to underlie his words. He took the sign of his own Harmonic power appearing as confirmation that he was guessing right. “The Baku need to be reminded that you can’t win a war by sitting around. We make for the Azure Reaches!”
…
“Wait out here,” Princess Ditzy Doo informed her guards just outside of the great hall, “It is customary for the leaders to discuss in private during these meetings.”
“Yes majesty!” her guards said in unison, and Storm Stepper puffed her chest out just a little further. It was her first time traveling with the Princess, as she wanted to not make a fool of herself.
Princess Ditzy nodded to them and turned to the doors. “The meeting should only last a few hours, so relax out here.”
The Princess disappeared into the great hall and the doors closed on her with a deafening boom. The other guards set about clustering together by the side of the hall, but Stepper was still too new to all this. She gawked around like a tourist for a few minutes before wandering closer to the log building. It was a truly impressive building and the trees that made up its walls must have lived for hundreds of years to have grown so tall. Or possibly grown with runes, the pegasus amended, thinking back to her briefing on Elkheim.
The two elk warriors standing on either side of the doors to the great hall noticed her getting closer, and one leaned over to the other and spoke in heavily-accented Equestrian. “It looks a little lost. Should we help it find its mother?”
“Hey!” Stepper snapped in embarrassment as the two elks laughed at her. “I could take both of you on right now!” She caught herself and remembered where she was. “But… uh, I won’t. Because this is a diplomatic mission, and that would look bad on the Princess.”
“We saw your Princess.” The other elk snorted, grinning good naturally. “She doesn’t look too mighty to me. Not like the Jarlmärr.”
Despite her rising annoyance at their casual tone to her, Stepper couldn’t deny she was curious. “I’ve heard a lot about your… Yarl-Mare.”
“Jarlmärr!” the elk on the left corrected. “And what was it you’ve heard? They say no mortal creature can stand before her in battle and survive.”
“They say that her spear, Gungnir, never misses its target once thrown,” said the one on the right, picking up the story before passing it smoothly over.
“They say she hung on the World Tree for nine days, impaled on her own spear, to gain the great knowledge behind the Runes.”
“They say twin ravens perch on her shoulder and whisper the secrets of her enemies into her waiting ears.”
“They say she consumes naut but mead or wine, and no elk has ever bested her in drink.”
“They say that from her throne, Hlidskjalf, she can perceive all that passed throughout the whole world.”
“They say that no mind can match hers in a contest of tactics, and that her words ring with the wisdom of the heavens.”
“And every word,” The elk said, leaning in to the awestruck pegasus, “is true!”
…
This throne is so itchy! Jarlmärr Carrot Top thought bitterly, scratching her back with the butt end of her spear. Would it kill them to let me have a pillow or two? And I think one of these annoying birds has made another mess down my back. This was a new cape!
She focused on the Princess from the pony lands before her. “I’m sorry, I was distracted for a moment. What was it you just said?”
Princess Ditzy Doo sipped lightly from the horn of mead provided for her and used her magic to place it back on its holder on the table between them. “I was just complementing you on your victories in the north. It’s no mean feat holding back the forces of the Griffon Kingdom for so long.”
“Indeed…” Carrot Top returned warily, drinking deep from her own horn. But you’ve never had any problems with the griffons, have you? They throw everything they have at my borders and leave yours alone. No, the Griffon Kingdom is not the problem you’ve traveled this far to discuss.
“Unlike the other nations, our two haven’t been very successful in expanding these last few years.” Ditzy continued. “And of course you’ve heard that I’ve recently lost Broncordia to the camels…”
Ah, here we go. “And you want me to reclaim your territory for you?” Carrot Top asked sharply, cutting in to the Princess’s practiced speech like a knife into butter.
To her credit, Princess Ditzy only blinked once before slipping smoothly back into the conversation. “Right to the point, I see. Yes, I’d like some assistance driving the camels off my shores.”
“I only possess one band of warriors in that part of the world.” Carrot Top said, confident that the Princess already knew of their whereabouts, else her request would have made little sense. She uncurled two of the six legs folded under her on the throne and pushed herself up on them, towering above her guest for emphasis. Her remaining two legs she crossed over her chest, holding her spear crocked into an elbow.
“Even a surprise attack would not be enough to take the camel’s armies,” the Jarlmärr continued, “And it is impossible to divert anything from the fighting in the east. Tell me why I should consider fighting a battle on two fronts?”
“Because the Caliphate is about to collapse.” Princess Ditzy explained, not ruffling so much as a feather at the display of physical intimidation. “They’ve expanded too far to support themselves without the land they’ve taken. Deprive them of Broncordia, and their armies will be forced to either retreat or starve.”
The Jarlmärr slipped down on her seat, dangling a pair of legs over the edge of the throne idly. It could work; the camels had indeed over extended themselves. In fact, if this plan worked out the way is sounded, one of the Elk’s ancient enemies could be swept from the map entirely. But…
Carrot Top took another draught and winced a little. I know the healers say that it’s better for my heart, but I wish they wouldn’t water down my mead quite so much. The raven on her right nipped her lightly on the ear and she lifted the horn up so it could drink.
“But what do I get out of it?” she asked the alicorn. “It seems to me that all the spoils go to Equestria, when more valuable looting could be found in the south.”
Ditzy Doo’s shimmering hair waved in a breeze that Carrot Top swore didn’t exist as the alicorn sipped from her drink once more. “I only have an interest in reclaiming what’s mine. With the support lines cut, Pferdreich should be the first of their claimed lands to be abandoned in their retreat. I offer you that land uncontested, and any other you can take on the eastern coast. The interests of Equestria lay to the south, not the north.”
The Jarlmärr considered the plan from all angles, but nothing seemed amiss. It was a very attractive idea. Her warriors were pillagers at heart, and this long siege to the east with no end in sight wore on the soul. The prospect of fresh prizes, even ones far in the future… and perhaps most importantly, the tickle in the back of her mind which let her know when a plan rang false was silent. The Princess seemed to mean exactly what she said, to the word.
She lifted her horn of mead out towards her guest and after a moment the alicorn levitated her own up as well. They clashed the containers together and drank deep, sealing the pact.
…
Tidir sat cross legged in her hut, deep in meditation. Thin trails of incense hung in the air around her and a thick aroma wafted from the iron pot bubbling over the fire. Broad leaves lay draped over the windows, letting in only the barest hints of sunlight. Tidir concentrated on her breathing, allowing herself to become one with the world around her. Occasionally, she would mutter a phrase or two under her breath, but otherwise the only sound was a continuous humming from deep in her throat.
She was waiting to see if a glimpse of the future would share itself today, but so far her mind was maddeningly silent on the subjects of portents. Instead of a clear picture, an event that had only occurred twice in the zebra’s long life, all that was filling her mind was a sense of great importance. The same feeling she’d been picking up every day for the last three moons. But now a sense of danger undercut the feeling and it was this feeling the shaman tried to focus upon.
“Tidir! Tidir!” a bright voice cried, shattering the stillness of the hut. A young zebra bounded into the room, blinking several times to adjust his eyes to the darkness before bouncing over to her side. “Tidir, you must come see!”
“Ameqran, have you forgot?” Tidir said, uncoiling from her seat, “You must not barge so into my hut!”
Ameqran gazed up at her with wide innocent eyes that could not quite banish his excitement. “I’m sorry, Tidir, but it’s so amazing!”
The shaman smiled warmly at her favorite grand-nephew and ruffled a hoof through his mane. “Do not worry, child, you have caused no error. But tell me, what has you in such a furor?”
“Strangers, Tidir!” Ameqran shouted, nearly bounding with excitement. “They flew down from the sky over the ocean! Everypony is gathering on the beach to watch them land! You have to come see them; they’ve got paint all over their faces!”
Tidir felt a thrill of premonition run down her spine, but she kept it from her face as she sidled up to her grand-nephew. “These visitors sound very strange indeed. Let us be good hosts and see what they need.”
The two of them left her hut and Ameqran ran ahead, unable to stand still for even a minute with all this excitement going on. Tidir let him to run off, following after him at a more sedate pace and allowing her eye to fall over the village and gauge the feel.
The village was very crowded, as news of her omens had spread far. Zebra from all over the land had traveled to convene and Tidir had met with many shamans who had sensed the same as herself, if not as strongly. But the village was quiet despite this. From the sound of it, most of the village and nearly all the visitors had gone down the worn path leading to the shoreline. Tidir set off in that direction and it wasn’t long before those left in the village noticed she was about. They called out to her as she passed but made no move to stop her progress.
“Tidir, who are they?”
“What do they want, Tidir?”
“Should we prepare to fight?”
“Tidir, why have they come here?”
“Tidir!”
“Tidir!”
The elderly shaman waved each question down and returned them with words of calm, saying everything was fine and that she was going to get to the bottom of it. But deep down she felt cold, deep in the pit of her stomach in a way she’d never thought she’d feel again.
Presently she made her way down the worn path and onto the beach and here were the missing villagers, crowded in a great clump where the trees gave away into sand. They recognized her as well and shouted their questions, but softly, as if afraid to break a fragile and tense situation. Tidir sensed the crowd was worried and nervous, a dangerous combination if left unchecked. The crowd parted to let her through to the front, and what she saw caused her to freeze in place and stare along with the rest.
A large group of creatures were milling about the beach. They were of great size and covered with puffy, brownish fur. They indeed had paint on their faces, straight lines of red or white on their cheeks and foreheads. They had small black horns poking out the sides of their brows and some of them wore headdresses of grass and feathers. About half of them were lying on the beach and panting in an exhausted fashion.
And above them… more of the creatures were still arriving. They were indeed coming down from the sky, flapping great multicolored wings as they landed. Tidir squinted, grateful that old age hadn’t robbed her of her eyesight, and saw that the wings were made of solid bands of light. A bar of light, strangely square-ish and transparent, floated straight out from a creature’s shoulders and about five bars floated unattached behind it. It was less a wing than a primitive drawing of a wing; a stick figure drawn in light. The “wings” faded away as the creatures landed, dropping to the ground and drinking gratefully from a skin of water another one would quickly hand over.
Tidir straightened up and walked down the beach purposefully, and the whispers behind her died away as the zebra waited to see what happened. One of the creatures, much larger than the rest, saw her coming and set off to meet her halfway between the two groups. This one had a larger headdress than the others and auras still floated around its body. A spectral collection of bars floated several inches over the ones painted on its face, and several auras hovered around its neck in a slow circle.
“Hello. Thank you for not immediately attacking us when we are so tired.” The creature said, surprising Tidir once more by speaking passably in her language. The creature noticed her shock and grinned. “The spirits have prepared me for our meeting and I have practiced your tongue over the long trip. My name is Chief Stonebrow, and we buffalo have traveled a long way to ask for your help.”
The shaman looked the… buffalo up and down and nodded back toward her village. “Well met, Stonebrow, welcome to my home. You must be tired from how far you had to roam. I’ve some wine in my hut from a private stock; let us partake of it while we privately talk.”
The chieftain tilted his head at her odd way of talking, as if wondering if he understood her correctly after all, but quickly thanked her for her hospitality. As she led the large stranger back through the staring zebra she felt the cool certainty of what was about to come. She didn’t need visions or omens for it, though she now understood what they had meant. No, this was something she hoped would never happen again. She looked over her friends and family as she led this stranger to her home and despaired over the future she knew was inevitable.
The zebra were going to war.
…
Spear-Leader Gerhild ducked behind a ruined wall and checked to see how much of her platoon had made cover. There were still eleven of her griffons left, mostly grouped up in the remains of an amphitheater on the other side of the road. Gerhild had never been to this small town near to border where Haupstadt met Hivri before the war began, but she wished she had. The remains of several museums and public speaking areas marked this city as having been a place of art and it must have once been magnificent.
Glancing up through the rubble, Gerhild saw the cursed Elkheimer longship was still floating above them. It must have seen her platoon running for cover. Warriors lined the sides of the ship and she could see several of them were already leaping from the deck onto nearby rooftops. Large flat stones were set regularly into the longship’s sides, each one glowing with a white glyph carved into its surface. The cervid’s rune magic, the word for flight holding the ship aloft in the air.
It was these runes Gerhild focused upon and she spun to her troops, holding aloft her spear. “We’ve been spotted! Aim for the rocks and drop that boat from the sky!”
Her well-trained soldiers abandoned their hiding immediately, standing and throwing their spears in a smooth practiced motion. The spear’s forge-wrought magic activated, allowing the weapons to fly farther than a plain spear would have and heating the sharp ends to a red burn. The spears pelted the side of the ship above them as her soldiers readied new weapons from the stash they carried with them.
Gerhild was raising her own weapon to throw when an Elk warrior leapt clean over the wall she was crouched behind. The berserker saw her and spun around, bringing a two-headed battle axe down in a one armed chop meant to sever her arm at the shoulder. Unable to react in time, Gerhild was saved by her armor. The spell-forged metal absorbed the force of the impact and deadened the blow to barely more than a light punch.
The elk was so taken off guard by the abrupt halt of its attack that Gerhild was able to get her spear turned around and thrust at his chest before he reacted. The spell-forged metal tip glowed hot as it cut through the elk’s tunic like wet paper and left a burning trail of fire across his chest. The elk howled in pain and retreated back over the wall, leaping with such height that a fresher recruit might have confused with the ability to fly. But Gerhild was a veteran of this battlefront, two years in, and she knew that it was no magic. The cervids where just that physically gifted.
Looking up, she saw that her soldiers had dislodged several of the longship’s flight runes and the ship was listing to one side. The cervids were trying to turn it to the north, but Gerhild knew the damage was too much for them to make a safe landing at sea.
But her momentary victory washed away as she saw figures ascend from the failing ship’s deck. “Runecasters!” she cried, signaling her men to fall back with speed.
The cervids coming at them now swooped through the air for real, stones with the rune for flight synched tight on their belts. The runecasters dropped more rocks upon her fleeing platoon from above, each one bearing the glowing red glyph of fire carved into it. These rocks exploded when they hit the ground, obscuring her view of her soldiers. Gerhild wished them well and focused on her own escape, flying low over the ground to a collapsed clock tower.
As she waited for the bombing to stop, Gerhild’s thoughts randomly went to her brother. Be safe, brother. And hurry back from your special mission, she thought as fire rained down all around her, we need all the help out here that we can get!
…
The roads were lined with cheering griffons, raining praise and torn up paper confetti on them like they were heroes. Gerfried led his travel-weary platoon down the center of the street as if in a dream, staring at the happy faces around him in amazement. This wasn’t the reception he’d been expecting when he was ordered over a year ago to make his way to distant Gryphos and convince them to do their part for the Kingdoms.
Up ahead the road terminated in a paved center square upon which a large platform had been erected. Several griffons with the air of aristocrats stood on the platform and bore the praise of the crowds with apparent ease. A band, an actual brass band, stood next to the stage and played an acceptable rendition of the Griffon national anthem. A large, slightly obese griffon with a long mustache trailing over the ends of his beak stood in front of the other aristocrats and watched them approach with an air of command that easily marked him as the local highest authority.
Gerfried signaled his men to hold at military rest and continued on his own, climbing the steps of the platform amongst the cheers of the thronging crowd. Immediately the stout griffon clasped him about the claw and shook vigorously. If anything, the crowd cheered even louder.
“Welcome, welcome! May the Granite Throne stand evermore!” the griffon shouted, finally releasing Gerfried’s claw and half turning to address his subjects. “As the baron of this humble town and speaking for my fellow barons who could not make it today, we wish to welcome you to Gryphos! And we want to thank you for your service in keeping our homes and our kingdom safe from the vile races of the world!”
The baron turned back to the soldier but continued to speak in a carrying voice. “But let it not be said that Gryphos did not do its part for the cause! These fine boys and girls have volunteered to travel with you back to the battlefront. We thank them for their bravery!”
Gerfried turned as well and observed a double line of young griffons standing by the side of the platform. They were trying to stand at attention, but they kept shooting interested glances at his men and their armor and weapons. There were also only eighteen, maybe a score of them in all. Gerfried turned back to the baron with a frown.
“You must be tired from your heroic journey!” the baron continued. “You can rest the night in our hospitality before returning with our blessings-”
Gerfried decided he’d let this go on long enough. “Oh, we won’t be leaving that soon.”
The baron froze and turned a wide-eyed stare at him. Clearly the aristocrat was unused to being interrupted. “But you must want to get back to the battle as soon as possible.”
“And that’s why we must finish our business as soon as possible.” Gerfried continued, watching the baron squirm. Avoiding your responsibility as a griffon, thrusting twenty untrained children on us and trying to send us away… “We have to discuss shipping routes for food and raw materials. And we must set up a system to gather ore from the nearby mines, and of course a tax to support the upkeep of our soldiers…”
“A tax…” the baron sputtered, visibly deflating with each word. The crowd, oblivious to their leader’s mounting horror, continued to cheer their approval.
“And get in touch with these other barons who couldn’t make it.” He continued, turning a smile only a griffon could on the baron. The baron, sensing a superior carnivore, deflated further still under that grin. “Twenty soldiers is a good start, but we need every griffon of fighting age. All for the Granite Throne, after all.”
Gerfried’s thoughts ran to his sister, as they’d done many times over the trip, and he once again wished her good fortune. Just hold on a little longer, Gerhild. I’ll bring you all the reinforcements you need!
…
Cheer Ali, Grand Vizier of the Caliph, sat on a lush cushion in her private chambers and frowned down at a crystal ball lying in her lap. Through the mist trapped within the sphere lay a face that if any camel outside of this room knew about, she’d have to kill them immediately. The Caliph thought that her inside knowledge was a gift from the Almighty, and she was content to let him think like that for now. As such she’d sent away all her servants and personally made sure her chambers were empty before taking the ball from its hidden cabinet.
“We overestimated the tenacity of the buffalo tribes.” She explained patiently, as if to a particularly slow child. “Many of our fighters had to return to the holy cities of Ard to defend them and were unable to return to the battle in time to provide support.”
“I don’t care about your holy cities.” The face of a high ranking griffon in the swirling depths spat, and Cheer Ali’s hooves twitched in her lap. “You agreed to attack Equestria first, so that the Kingdom could sweep them from behind. How am I supposed to take their nation by surprise if you do nothing to attract their attention?”
A warm breeze briefly disturbed the cloths hanging over the open windows and circled the round room. The smoke trailing up from a candle on the table next to her curled about lazily, but she waved her hoof through it impatiently with barely a thought. “I have devoted more than half of my nation to this plan of yours, but it is proving more trouble than it’s worth. My armies are in position, but where are yours?”
The griffon tilted its head evasively, but the magic of her crystal ball tracked it perfectly. “My part of the plan isn’t the problem right now. It’s you who are not carrying out your part of the deal.”
“I have fed you information from my spies in the elks and the ponies.” Cheer Ali countered. The breeze blew into the room again, harder this time, disturbing scrolls of papers on her table. “Information you have used to keep from losing even more of your land. This arrangement grows more one-sided with every passing day.”
The griffon sputtered and said something angrily, but the wind had finally caught Cheer Ali’s attention. It was blowing strong enough to flutter the cloth hangings over the rooms two exits, and seemed to be getting stronger. What was more, there wasn’t even a hint of desert sand blowing in on it. The wind was… pure.
“Silence. I have more pressing matters.” She addressed her contact.
“What? You can’t just-” the griffon started, but Cheer Ali past a hoof over the crystal and the image faded away. For a few moments the marid trapped within formed, its amethyst eyes glaring up at her from the creature’s cobra-like shape made of mist, but then it dissolved once more into a small amount of water. The water sloshed a little at the bottom of the ball, ready to be called forth the next time it was needed.
Cheer Ali stood with her back to the table and addressed the room. “Who is there? Surely you know the penalty for disturbing the Grand Vizier when she is at rest.”
Her only answer for the span of a few heartbeats was the growing howl of the wind, and then a deep voice echoed about the room. “The Caliph has become displeased with your service, Cheer Ali. Accept your death with the honor of your station.”
The Vizier spat as the swirling wind ramped up in the small room. So, an assassin has been sent to kill me. The fool…
Elementals were unable to speak, so the djinn’s master must be nearby. However, the wind successfully hid the source of the voice just as easily as it kept her trapped within this room. The wind was moving so fast as to be visible, and everything not heavy enough was picked up and spun around the room, dashing repeatedly against the walls. If she didn’t act soon, the djinn would gather enough strength to do the same with her.
Cheer Ali sent her will out to the candle, still sitting in the center of this miniature cyclone, and the tiny flame flared up several feet into the air. Her efreeti clawed out of the candle, taking its usual form of a sand lizard comprised completely of flame. The efreeti opened its mouth and steam and smoke bellowed out, but the winds just greedily sucked it up.
The deep voice laughed. “It’s too late. My servant has already filled the room with his winds and has become too powerful for you to stop now!”
But her assassin had made a mistake this time. Her efreeti had heated the djinn’s wind quickly and for a few precious moments the wind had lifted up, leaving the air at the bottom of the room relatively still. Cheer Ali had dropped to her knees, pretending to be hiding from the gale, and so clearly heard where the voice came from this time. With a flash, the camel pulled a dagger out of a hidden fold in her robe and threw it through the doorway to her right.
The blade flashed through the hanging over the door and struck something with a satisfying thud. There was a cry of pain and the winds in the room slowed down, as the djinn controlling them debated rushing to its master. That was all the opening her efreeti needed. It opened it mouth once more, but this time it began sucking in air at a furious pace. It was like the previous storm but in reverse, with all the air in the room rushing in towards the fiery monster in the center.
Within moments the enemy’s djinn was revealed, an almost see-through songbird trying mightily to remain aloft near the ceiling. But Cheer Ali’s efreeti had the djinn’s measure now, and every bit of air it swallowed fed its fire and made it stronger. It grew in size until it was as large as the table it lay upon and still it sucked in air, until the songbird could remain aloft no longer and got drawn down. Her efreeti snapped its jaws down on the air elemental and swallowed it, adding its power to its own. There was another cry of pain from the door, this one of anguish instead of physical pain.
“And now for the master.” Cheer Ali said dispassionately, flicking a hoof at the room the assassin was hiding in. Her efreeti darted off the table and into the next room with lizard-like speed and soon the bright light of fire filled the open doorway. The former Vizier ignored the resulting sounds and set about collecting her most important possessions. Successful or not, the assassin had ended her role in this nation.
The Caliph's rule is about to end. Cheer Ali thought as she packed. He drove his armies too far and made too many enemies. Nothing can save the Naqah anymore. I believe it’s time I found employ in another’s court…
…
The rolling darkness of the dreamscape flashed with random colors and images; the intrusions of other dreams. Trying to make sense of the images could drive a tapir mad, so Raindrops did her best to ignore them. Instead she focused on the massive presence of the Baku, who had summoned her with little warning.
“<sound of peal of thunder> was right…” the Baku said, although said was probably the wrong word. They projected their intentions when they wanted to talk and half of their speech was images or impressions instead of words. The Baku themselves took the form of a brilliantly bright ball of white light, something that should have been painful to look at directly but in here didn’t bother Raindrops in the least.
Raindrops herself still looked like the tapir she was, but she stood in a little shower of water droplets. These droplets appeared from nothing several feet above her head and the ground rippled where they landed, as if it were temporarily a surface of water. This physical representation of her Harmonic name surrounded her at all times in the dream lands.
“Admiral Peal has met only token resistance in the Azure Reaches.” Raindrops reported. She didn’t worry about making a mistake without her reports; since the meeting was technically in her head, everything she knew could be pulled up from her memory perfectly. “The buffalo have abandoned all pretenses at hitting us from both sides and made a bee-line for Zebrica. The Admiral thinks he can prevent them from returning if he just pushes out a little farther…”
“<BAKU> know very well what <sound of peal of thunder> is thinking…” the Baku interrupted, “<BAKU> are with many of our <children, siblings, FAMILY> at once… <sound of drops of rain> is the expert on <fighting, pain, WAR>… what is it that <BAKU> should do?...”
Raindrops winced, knowing that the next part would be difficult. “I believe we need to take the western-most tip of the continent, the far west part of the Dune Sea. It has resources we desperately need…”
The blackness of the dreamscape vanished, replaced by scenes of desert sands and oasis’s. Raindrops gulped as the scenes passed over the parts she’d hoped they’d not, panoramas of Naqah tent villages and training outposts. Brief bubbles of camel’s dreams flitted around them, glimpses into various hopes and fears.
“<dry ocean, broken land> belongs to the <humped wanderers> here…” the Baku projected.
“Yes, but we outnumber them two to one. We can drive them from the area with ease.” She said, trying her hardest to keep from thinking about how fragile the Naqah Caliphate was right now. Without supply lines, depriving them of their homes… sending them out, battered and broken, into the desert… it’s a death sentence. They’d never make it to their own nation alive.
Of course, the Baku heard the whole thought.
“<BAKU> do not like <endings, emptiness, DEATH>…” they thought, their displeasure manifesting as a real weight that brought Raindrops to her knees. “<BAKU> liberate, is our way…”
“I am the expert on war.” Raindrops tried, “You chose me for the role; you need to listen to my advice-”
“<BAKU> do not like <endings, emptiness, DEATH>…” the Baku repeated.
Raindrops gulped. Truth be told, the Baku scared her deep down into her bones. Supposedly, they were the combined minds of over a thousand tapir monks in perpetual meditation somewhere in a hidden temple, but she sometimes wondered how much of that was true anymore. The Baku didn’t seem like beings that lived in the real world, if they ever had. Certain concepts randomly had a hard time getting though to them.
“Listen,” Raindrops said, trying a different tact, “The camels can’t hold that land against anyone. If not us, the buffalo will take it and use its resources themselves.”
"<stampeding tribe> are our true <foe, adversary, ENEMY>…” the Baku thought.
“Yes, and we can circle around them if we take this spot from the camels.” Raindrops explained, now sweating with the effort of making her point. “The buffalo can’t protect themselves from two sides; if nothing else we can clear them out from Ptehinchala. Then we’d be safe!”
There was silence for an indeterminate amount of time, besides the pitter patter of rain and a low-key hum emanating from the Baku, and then the weight upon Raindrops’s shoulders vanished all at once.
“<children, siblings, FAMILY> must be safe. Attack the <dry ocean, broken land>…” the Baku intoned.
Raindrops sighed and rose up into a more comfortable position. She knew that the Baku had already sent the orders along to the necessary commanders. “Thank you. But we need to talk about the trouble in Cavallia. I don’t think we can hold it anymore, but if they go…”
…
The desert winds howled with the bite of winter, even as far south as this. The rest of the tribe huddled in their tents for warmth, but Chieftain Heartstrings had trudged out alone into the dunes to commune with the spirits in peace. Now, up close with the campfire she’d gathered and eyes half lidded, she chanted the mystic phrases that let her see events on far.
The smoke from the fire curled and danced like a living thing, its whorls imparting wisdom in a language only the great Chieftains like herself knew. Chieftain Heartstrings had no more control over what the smoke showed than she did over the sun in the sky, but the glimpses were enough.
She saw the war between the griffons and the cervids continued unchanged. She saw the ponies drive the tapir from the shores to the east and claim it as their own. She saw the camels, stretched far too thin, losing ground all around them and driven back into the desert and the sea.
And most satisfying of all she saw her fellow buffalo, the chieftains and braves who followed her counsel from afar. She saw them strike out east, towards the ponies and their newly concurred land. She saw them strike out north, battling the desperate remnants of the camels. She saw them amassed in the west and south, waiting for when the spirits were with them and the time was right. She saw brave Chief Stonebrow, brokering a new piece with the far off zebra that would turn the tide in their favor.
She saw all of this, as winter’s heart bore down on the world from the north and all nations buckled down against it. For now surviving the cold was paramount, and soon Chieftain Heartstrings would return to her braves. They would wait out the winter together, and grow stronger for it. And plan for the coming spring. But for now there was nothing but the fire and the spirits and the biting wind.
Heartstrings lifted her head to the wind and grinned into the night sky. “All is going according to plan.”
Wha...? I'm awake, I'm awake... *yawn*, what time is it? ...Wait, what day is it? ...Wait, what month is it?
I'm so sorry about the lack of updates on this story. I was struck with an enormous case of depression last Spring and it look me a while to shake it off. That and for the life of me I couldn't think of a way to make these two turns interesting. A lot of it was routine, with none of the ponies doing much of interest. Than I remembered almost eleven months ago Emeral Bookwise requested I do more stuff from the nations point of view and BAM, instant inspiration.
It's been a while, but let's go over the maps. Here's the one from the summer turn at the start of the chapter:
Or you can click here.
And here's the winter turn at the end, with adjusted units and flags:
Or you can click here.
I had a ton of fun fleshing out the nations, some of them for the first time in the Lunaverse, and it would be remiss of me to not expand on them a little bit more.
The ponies got the least amount of screen time in this chapter, but that was because I didn't feel the need to flesh them out. It's Equestria, we know what they're like. Still, bonus points for alicorn Ditzy!
I had already written General Trixie into the opening chapter, so her persona was set in stone. One of the things I wanted to come across in this story was that most of the nations had access to magic, but that each form of magic would be unique to them. Since it felt odd to give the griffons a caster class, I decided to make them artificers. They've found a way to forge power directly into their arms and armaments, making them stronger or retain the "heat of the fires that forged them". It gives them the boost to their natural physical prowess to compete with the sorceries of the others.
It never made sense to me that Equestria should be the only nation led by an immortal race, so I was determined to add a few more "god classes" to the mix. The elks are ruled over by a Sleipnir, a being on roughly the same power level as an alicorn, but with less overt magical control. And just in case I wasn't blatant enough, I heavily implied that this Sleipnir Carrot Top is playing was Odin. The cervids get their magic from runes, words of power that invoke whatever the word is in real life. I think these have actually shown up in the Lunaverse before, but I'm not sure where.
The buffalo's magic came from a combination of Native American art and a pun that wouldn't leave my head. I imagined invoking the spirits for power would be like drawing in the air, great strokes of solid energy that was a cross between the Nazca Lines and face paint, then run through Tron. And the pun, you ask? Buffalo wings.
A Caliphate is a state controlled by a "supreme religious and political leader", and not wishing Cheerilee to be portrayed as such, I decided she'd play the Grand Vizier. This also works since she's going to stick around after the Caliphate falls, where its leader probably wouldn't. The camels command elementals, creatures made out of magic and whatever element they embody. I named them after the spirits of power in middle-eastern mythology. Yes, only the air elementals were called Djinn. Look it up.
And last but not least, the Baku. The Baku have actually been in the Lunaverse from the very beginning, in a story planned for shortly after "Longest Night, Longest Day". However the story never surfaced, but with RainbowDoubleDash's permission I revived them and finally fleshed the concept out. I'm not sure what I can say about their magic that wasn't explained in the chapter, other than I wanted to make them as alien as possible. As a kid that grew up with the Sandman comics, I have very strange ideas about what the dreamscape should look like. The Harmonic name bit was all my invention, though, and completely because I wanted an in-universe reason for a tapir named Raindrops.
I love how this turned out, but I'm probably not going to do anymore chapters like this. From this point on we return to the library, where things are about to pick up once more!
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Risk? In Equestria? What have you done!
Why didn't you just have them play either Jumanji or Zathura!?
At least then only a small portion of Equestria would be destroyed.
4759942
Actually, it's a game called Diplomacy. Trust me, it is so much worse for your nakama.
Wow this certainly got a bit more interesting with the fleshing out.
Though now I want an actual video game with these..Curses!
Actually, I found the change of pace quite refreshing. If you get the chance to go back to it once in a while during the story when something critical happens (say, when a faction is knocked out), it'd be a nice touch.
Love the elk tribes in "Scandinavia" along with the short lesson in religion. Few remember that Sleipnir had 8 legs.
Hey, it's back! And with much more worldbuilding than I expected.
Sorry about your depression.
4760460
Thanks, I'm feeling much better now. The worldbuilding was more fun than I expected. Glad you liked it!
Much more immersive, thank you! And let's see, fire elementals are efreeti but I don't know what earth and water were. I am glad I was online when this updated!
I've never played Diplomacy with females before; I can only imagine there's less bluster and more treachery.
Interesting world building although I found it a bit hard to keep track of was actually happening in the game.
Are you intending to stay in this format from now or are you going to go back to the 'real world' view or switch between the two?
4760052
Oh.OH.
That is so evil. I think the only way I could stand to play that would be to do it Joker style. Attack and ally with anything and everything until the world/game burns around me.
It is really neat to see what the 'actual' nations are doing as the 6 play their game. Trixie as a griffon had me cracking up for some reason.
It's been a while since I read the other parts of this fic but were the characters introduced here (beyond the L6 stand-ins) in any of the other chapters? It seems like we're expected to know who this Gerfried (and co.) is already. That might just be me missing something obvious though.
I love the world-building here. The Baku in particular are a really interesting addition and I love the way you portrayed how they speak, the formatting really makes it stand out. I hope we see another glimpse of these nations before the fic is done but I wouldn't want them to become the main focus either. The characters interacting and reacting to the game is the real draw of this story.
4761396
I think I'm going to go back to the six playing in the library. This was a fun side trip, but I want the story to be about six friends playing a board game and having their friendship tested, not an epic recount of a world war. The ending might see more of this style, but I'm not sure about it. It's a lot of effort to tell actually very little.
4761880
This was the first time I went "in-game", with the exception of Trixie in the very first chapter, so there is no back story for these characters. It's just how I write. I find it easier to portray a scene if I give the viewpoint it comes from some personality, so I threw some characters together on the fly. They don't mean anything beyond a way to drive the situations forward and make them more personal.
4761423
Honestly? This game is deceptively simple. All you do is write down what your want you pieces to do each turn, and then check to see if that clashes with what all the other players want their pieces to do. Think of it like a game of capture the flag if designed by chess players.
Seriously though, I didn't understand this game at all until I actually played it. My friend who was really into the idea and wanted to try it out kept explaining it to me, but I didn't really get it until we started. This game doesn't really have "rules", just general guidelines with what's accepted or not. That's why is so easy to cheat; the entire thing is just convincing the other players that what you want to happen should happen.
...wait, did I just describe Diplomacy or Calvinball?
4762553
Oh, okay. I just wasn't sure if I'd missed something, especially since that happens in other fics that have some time between updates but pack a lot of info into each chapter. (The Lunar Rebellion comes to mind.)
Nice chapter. Good to see you back, both in terms of writing and out of the depression you were in.
But now I really want to see somebody do fanart of the six in their in-game character forms.
Addendum: Funny coincidence, but I'm also writing a story right now, Griffon the Heave-ho, and your take on the griffon race as artificers, imbuing their artifacts with power, has a bit of a parallel with my take. In my version, they have weather magic similar to pegasi, but with an emphasis on violent weather. They also have an alloy called thundersteel, created by infusing metal with the essence of lightning clouds, allowing them to create weapons and heavy armor that can be flown in, since the griffon wearing it would be able to use their own innate magic to push the metal through the sky as if it were cloud.
Out of all that happened, I am really hoping those Griffin siblings survive to see each other again.
Well, I'm glad I could be of some inspiration. Though it also makes me sad to say this chapter left me with mixed feelings. I'd wanted to see more imagine spots, but not at the expense of entirely abandoning the "reality" of the game being played. Also, while the scenes with the variations on the L6 were all good (especially Sleipnir-Top), I just couldn't really get invested in any of the other scenes where they were absent.
None of these other characters are "real" (not even in the sense of being sub-fictional characters like Daring Do was originally introduced as). Giving personalities to what essentially amounts to mere game pieces that only exist within this singular meta-conceit just feels distracting. As interesting as the all potential world building might be, nothing these miscellaneous characters do, think, or feel matters because at the end of the day they were never anything more than a pile of assorted plastic pieces on a game board.
That said, these otherwise extraneous scenes could have ~maybe~ still worked if one of the L6 were always present. I don't mean Sleipnir-Top, Princess Ditzy, General Trixie, Vizier Cheerilee, Chief Heartstrings, or whatever title Raindrops holds. I mean other personifications of the L6. All of these are essentially imagine spots, so I think they could each play multiple characters therein. Alternatively, these other characters could be based off other characters in our supporting cast who are personally connected to the L6. One of the two griffin knight commanders for example could have been Pokey, while the buffalo emissary to the zebra could have been BonBon or Octavia.
Was that ever discussed on the forums? Not that I'm complaining or anything. It's just that's pretty much the same idea I'd been working with when referencing griffin contributions to the design Puissance's ultra secure vault door in Elements of insanity. Trying to figure out if we were building off the same base foundation, or just convergent ideas of great minds thinking alike?
4771186
Sorry if I disappointed, but this chapter's been sitting around in the back of my head for so long that I just needed to get it out somehow. Your idea of using others like BonBon and Pokey is absolute brilliance. I really wish that I had thought of that before, but no help for it now.
This was just something I came up with because I wanted each nation to have unique magic. I've kinda fallen off the forums the last couple of months, so I don't think it came from there. Great minds think alike I guess!
4773120
Believe me, I know that feeling all to well. There have been several points in writing Elements of Insanity when I wanted to push an update just to be done with it and move on. Overall though, I think it's been best (especially on the most recent chapter) that I took the extra effort to consult trusted associates to give me feedback on what parts are working and which ones aren't.
Well, technically you could always go back and edit, though I can perfectly understand why you might feel reluctance to do so. Speaking personally, after finishing a long chapter the last thing I would want to do is have to start anything over. I'd want to ride whatever momentum I'd gained and press forward. Still, it could be something to consider making a note of to come back and do later. After all, the content of the scenes wouldn't have to change, only the context through which the audience observes it by way of the characters used (and since it's all just imagine spots anyway, it wouldn't really be any kind of continuity breaking retcon).
Alternatively, I'm not really sure what you have planed for future chapters, and how much you'd be planning to follow up on these OCs. You could, however, just consider dropping them and using characters close to the L6 from this point forward.
What I'm saying is, that you don't have to feel resigned to any one method just because you didn't come up with the alternative idea sooner. Don't fall for the sunk cost fallacy because it's NEVER too late.
4760140 I'd like to see that, too.
That was awesome.
Ah Diplomacy, the only game with rules on how to cheat.
Very cool chapter, nice world-building. It's creative stuff.
Especially liked the two elk-guards little spiel about their leader, thanks for the laugh.
"Buffalo wings" - I knew it!
Few typos:
"Hivri" - Hirvi
"their newly concurred land" - conquer
"brokering a new piece" - peace?
Cheer Ali, mighty is she, ruler of Caliph.
Sorry, I just thought of Aladdin as soon as I saw that.