This is still a weekend blog, I promise!

Very long post here today, (In fact, my longest) but not too much for me to say.Which is partly the reason why this is so late. You see, I've written up a little preview for my latest story (Tales of an Unquiet Equestria) And while I thought it'd be a fairly short, 2-or-3 hour project, it actually turned into a near 4000-word ordeal and I'm not too pleased with the result. But still, I'll post it.

But first, my new year's! I did tell Cetran I'd mention it, and it's an amusing anecdote to tell. (Well, I say that, I'm actually super ashamed of myself. So, go figure.)
I went out with a good fifteen or so of my friends to the town closest to where I live, where there's usually a good atmosphere and quite a lot of people. And, unsurprisingly, there was! Lovely time, we all had a jolly good dance/drink. For the first time in my life actually, I was so drunk that I felt comfortable dancing. All in all, I believe that I had a good half-a-bottle or so of vodka in one way or another, and sometime around 10:30 everything is black in my memory. Absolutely nothing. Next thing I know, it's 12:45 and I'm vomiting everywhere and getting carried to an ambulance by people I scarcely know, and my mum's being called. Then, all is black for a second time, and I wake up at home the next morning. Seriously, worst night of my life, and I've never felt less pleased with my behaviour. Really, I'm lucky that I wasn't hurt, because as it turns out everyone was a bit fighty that night and my blood sugar was a third of what it should have been. Still, I digress. How was everyone's new year? Pleasant for everyone?

Anyways, onto the main subject. This technically isn't all of the passage that I wanted to show you. There's actually an unwritten part that comes later, and discusses such cheerful subjects as honesty, honour and mercy. Delightful stuff. At any rate, I feel that this is a lot too brief to make it into the final cut, so if it ever actually gets released as a full story, expect it to be longer. Also, there's a cut in the middle. That part was getting boring and difficult, so I decided to jump to a later moment. You only miss out on a couple minutes, at most.
And, before I forget, a quick word about the Griffonic culture I've used in this story. I've added in a couple terms that might be lost, but I decided to add just for a little bit of world-building. Primarily, it's about how Griffons refer to each other. In this story, Griffons have little honorific titles that denote their physical prowess and general physical stature, based on classifications of various birds. The ones I've used are as follows:

Young or generally inexperienced as a soldier, or of a wiry and lightweight bearing - falcon
Older, more experienced soldiers, generally beefier and make up most of the fighting force - hawks
Veteran warriors, generally very large and covered with scars, often highly respected - Eagles
Others I've come up with, and you're free to use any, provided you accredit me.
Very old warriors, often retired or non-combat officers, usually grizzled - Vultures
Particularly elegant females - Swans
Particularly vibrant or flambouyant griffons of either gender - Peacock (Usually a female term, despite the fact that female peacocks are very drab in colouration.)
Runtish or plump griffons - Grouse, quail
Particularly fat griffons, possibly even to the extent of near-flightlessness - Bustard, turkey
And, the list goes on. It's fun!

Anyway, on with the show. Hope you enjoy it!

Captain Talon walked proudly as he stepped over a makeshift barrier, hastily erected in the vain effort to keep him and his kind at bay. Obviously, it hadn’t worked. Captain Talon was the fifth in the line of that name, and his son bore it too. Success had run in the family blood for generations, so it was only natural that the griffons under his command would have struck such a heavy blow against the Equestrians.
Even so, these ease of their victory had surprised him. Equestria’s armed forces must have been more stretched out than he had previously thought, because in the entire left flank that he commanded, no pocket of resistance had managed to last long. Sure, many of the bodies he stepped grandly over as they advanced on the crippled town possessed both beak and claw, but for every one of his brothers, there were five with hooves, lying dead in the mud. There were few sounds, now. He could hear his soldiers rushing by him every so often, and the occasional minor order to advance, or to check a fox-hole, but there was little point right now, as it stood. The town they had been sent to capture was hardly worth the broken ground it stood on, anymore. Artillery was a fairly new development in warfare, or at least of this kind. A full six hours of it had been authorised as a test run, before the main advance. Talon had been told by his superiors that it was to trail the capabilities of this new weapon. He felt that it was a terrifying weapon, raining fire down from the sky. It was just devastating enough, just advanced enough to be horribly barbaric.
But that was of little concern to him. The right flank and central column had already advanced into the town to capture it, and there was little for him to do, in charge of the rear guard. He glanced back, watching teams of four griffons carefully traversing the pockmarked battlefield with large cannons. He didn’t feel that they were necessary anymore, but he had his orders. At least the ballistae teams were allowed to stay put. Those things were a nightmare to pack up and shift. His son passed by his field of vision, padding along with his weapon holstered and a fierce look of joy on his face. It had been the first time the young falcon had faced enemy action, and Talon was proud to see that he had enjoyed it.
With little thought, he clambered over yet another scarred and broken wall, about three feet tall and made of just about any conceivable object. He admired the tenacity of his enemies often, but they were disappointingly easy to slay in combat.
Of course, with a small but notable exception.
Not that they needed to worry about that, though. The forward parties would have spotted that kind of threat by now, and why would the Equestrians waste such high-demand resources on a tiny skirmish like this? No, for once, this fight would go on as the gods intended, without such unnatural interference.
Or so had hoped, until the screaming started.
The second he heard it, he stopped in his tracks. Griffons don’t scare easily, and know how to stand and fight. But when the patter of crossbow fire started, he was already looking about himself, prepared for an ambush. If nothing else, he could still keep the troops under his command out of the town. He bellowed the order for his troops to take cover, and they followed him without hesitation. Talon could tell immediately that they were scared. They had come so far now, only to meet enemy action? What could possibly be going on? The crossbow fire was becoming desperately erratic, now.
Then he saw them. Just a few at first, but then dozens, hundreds. Griffons fleeing the town, pouring out of every exit they could find, all sense of leadership and command broken by pure fear. Those of his troops closest to the town started to waver, but Talon would not be so easily scared. There was a good hundred meter gap between the outskirts of the town as his forces, so there was ample room to set up a killzone.
“Stand firm!” He shouted above the clamour, standing as tall as he could. “Meet any foe with courage and honour, or you’ll answer to far worse things than death!”
He stalked quickly over to the nearest squad, a team of marksfalcons with their spotters.
“What’s going on in there?” He squawked, not daring to show his own fear.
“I… I can’t see any enemy action, sir…” The closest spotter replied, lowering his binoculars as the gunfire ceased altogether. All around them, griffons fled, desperate to save their skins. There was little doubt as to what could have afflicted so many, so fast. “But it’s a grim sight, in there.”
“Let me see.” He ordered, taking the binoculars himself and peering into the heart of the town. From his vantage point, he could see all the way into the town square, and the sight that treated him was a grim one indeed.
If there were any Equestrian bodies there, they had now been covered entirely by griffon corpses, still sickeningly fresh. They looked like they had been caught between an archery range and a meat grinder, and it was often hard to tell where one body ended and another began.
But Talon held in his bile. He tossed the binoculars back, walking as steadily as he could toward the centre of the battlefield.
“Tell me if you see anything.” He called back, but there was little point. He knew they would.
It was almost a full thirty seconds more, tense and silent, before they finally made visual contact with the enemy.
At first, a single figure, huge and dark, broke free of cover at a dead sprint on its hind legs, coated from head to foot in dark, thick metal armour. Everyone present knew what it was, even though not one of them had seen one before. The dread reputation of the Phoenix soldiers extended far out before them. The line visibly rippled with fear and hesitation, but Talon would have no soldiers of his buckle before such an enemy. It was about making a statement.
“Open fire!” He roared at the top of his lungs, unsheathing his sword and raising it into the air. He glanced to his right as the disciplined rush of crossbow bolts filled the air, checking on the rest of their battle-line. Entrenched as they were, the wrong way round in a third of the protective cordon, they probably wouldn’t be able to hold for long, and they could be easily flanked if there were any large numbers of enemy troops. He could see little hope as the last of the retreating griffons took to the air, only to be cut down with terrifying precision from a second and third Phoenix soldier bursting from the town further away. His gaze snapped back to the first as the distant griffons loosed a volley of bolts at their unstoppable adversaries.
The abomination before him had barely been slowed by the first volley, and almost all of the second pattered harmlessly off the thick plating. What scarce few actually penetrated that thick hide barely seemed to affect the coming storm, shafts snapping off between segmented plate. It just kept coming.
It leapt the first barrier with a mighty somersault, easily clearing twenty feet or more in a single bound. Then the first of the cannon batteries finally loosed a trio of deadly lead shot in its direction and it merely ducked the attack with unbelievable reactions, rolling loosely over broken bodies of friend and foe and drawing its weapon – a simple automatic crossbow, no more potent than most of the ones he and his troops were using, though the firing mechanism was different. Yet Talon knew, as he ducked behind cover and drew his own, he knew that while he had taken a handful of ponies with his crossbow, more than a hundred had fallen to this monster’s weapon. He wondered how many more were about to join them.
He was filled with an irrational hatred as that unnatural creature bore down on them, scattering to the winds firepower that could cut down a small battalion. This wasn’t warfare, not honest, honourable warfare. This was like slaughter. Nothing had ever worked on these things before, the sight that had greeted him back in the town was testament to that. Was it really even worth it, to stall them for this long? It was too late to reconsider now, at any rate.
He stood back up, loosing off a couple bolts in the approaching juggernaut’s direction. He doubted it would have much of an effect anyway.
“Front line, prepare yourselves!” He roared, as the monster approached the first bank of defences. With a loyalty born largely of fear, the brave hawks dropped to their haunches, pressing their backs against the makeshift barricade as they waited for the Phoenix soldier to leap straight over it, as it had done before.
But it didn’t. Before he could warn his troops otherwise, he could see the monster crouching low, levelling a powerful shoulder and charging straight into the mound of stone and wooden refuse.
It was like seeing pins scattered by a master bowler – bits of fortification flew everywhere as a section of the wall almost seemed to disappear, replaced by that horrible avatar of carnage. The brave soldiers manning the barrier were thrown back, many already badly wounded by the debris, but the monster didn’t care. As if working by clockwork, the phoenix soldier started cutting down troops and all hell broke loose.
It would shoot down warriors at point blank range without even looking, constantly whirling about and slashing and punching and kicking almost effortlessly. If it wasn’t for the horrid, grim expression that the helmet seemed to give, Talon could have sworn that the Phoenix soldier considered this some kind of cruel game.
There were a couple shafts buried in its hide, Talon noticed, as he vaulted cover and charged. He risked a glance at the rest of the battlefield, and didn’t like what he saw. Everywhere else was at least this bad, if not worse. Their farthest flank, on the right, had already been overcome, rushed as it had been by a desperate sea of fleeing griffons and now torn apart by a dark, towering figure.
He holstered his crossbow as he ran, drawing his sword instead – a more fitting weapon, given the number of friendly soldiers. But for all their numbers, it was like waves crashing against a great cliff. They would wash over him, before being torn apart and thrown away, or beaten backwards with hooves almost as large as their heads.
Spying what he thought to be an opening, he leapt into the air, flapping once to aid him, before diving into the fray, his sword held out before him.
Without even glancing his way, the Phoenix soldier simply stepped aside, knocking aside griffon soldiers with its sheer mass. Instinctively, Talon turned away from the ground and tucked his wings in tightly.
With a thud and a smash, he was down in the mud, staring up stupidly as his hawks fought bravely against a foe they couldn’t ever slay, their paws barely missing him as they jostled for space in the melee.
But it was for naught. A mighty sweep of the monster’s foreleg, and suddenly the sky above him was clear, and defiant roars became shrieks of pain as they were cast aside like twigs before a hurricane. Talon scrambled to his paws as the armoured pony turned away, desperate to rally what was left of his decimated battle-line.

Small gap here, working on a graphic page-breaker.

Talon growled, tearing the hat from his head and throwing it away. One last, bitter strike against that whirlwind of steel, one last desperate attempt to lay it low enough to finally kill it. Even through the waves of griffon soldiers surrounding the beast from all sides, Talon could see the extent of its injuries as he charged. Half a dozen shafts stuck out of various gaps in its armour, and there were enough cut and stab wounds to soak its already blood-stained armour with its weird, almost purplish blood.
Strong, well-built griffons, Hawks and even grizzled eagles, masterful veterans of war, were still simply scattered aside when the Equestrian struck out at them, even given its injuries. Talon could hardly tell if it was even weakening, if it was really killable. But it was too late to doubt now. Their lives were forfeit, and they had bought more than ten minutes for the rest of their force already. Each second was a further blessing to the fleeing comrades. Each second made their sacrifice worth it, but Talon couldn’t feel any sense of pride over what he was doing as he charged into the melee, struggling not to hit his own men in the confusion. He ducked down onto all fours for a moment, bounding forward with his sword still held out, lunging upward the second he saw his adversary.
To his surprise, as much as anything, his blade struck the thin, leathery armour of the Phoenix soldier’s side and passed through, though it was firm unlike any flesh he had cut before. It was almost like dragging his blade through soft wood, in fact, or like a giant vat of honey. Its flesh was denser than anything her had fought before.
And so, his blade was wrenched from his grasp as it spun away from him, clubbing four griffons to death with a single careless swipe of a massive, gauntleted hoof. Suddenly furious, Talon slashed at its arm with the talons that gave him his namesake, digging in deep to the gap at its armpit. He doubted it went deeper than that leathery second skin, be he cared little as he climbed the soldier like a mighty oak tree, scrambling up its side and biting its neck even as it slaughtered his soldiers.
But as soon as his teeth glanced against that thick, muscular neck, he could almost feel its attention shift directly onto him, however briefly. Its head turned to face him, faster than should have been possible, and just for the briefest of slip-seconds, he found himself staring into the face of a monster.
Time seemed to slow down from his perspective as he gazed upon that expressionless mask, that helmet that was all any Griffon had ever seen of a Phoenix soldier. It was almost guesswork to assume there was a real pony inside, and not some kind of demon.
The construction of its nose and forehead gave it a stern, yet brutish appearance, like it was constantly staring hatefully into the eyes of any who saw it. But worse even than that was that blood-specked visor, that dull, reflective orange eyepiece that showed only one thing. His own face reflected back at him, and the expression of fear on his face.
In what he later realised to be only an afterthought, the monster rocked forward and brought their heads crashing together.
Talon was some six feet away now, his head full of fire and his vision dark. He felt as if he should lose consciousness, and indeed his body didn’t react to any command he gave it, but the splitting pain held him in the world of the living, stamping out every other thought and emotion. His skull was almost certainly cracked, and his jaw felt broken. Not that he could really tell, through the pain in his forehead. His breath coming in uncertain, ragged gasps, he slumped against the cold and the wet, the numbing mud, and closed his eyes, waiting for death.
Then he heard a brave cry of defiance, a small, familiar sound, lost and distant as if on the other end of a deep, dark cavern.
His son.
He knew that voice, that shout, that stupid heroism better than anything alive. He also knew where it was coming from, and knew it was too late. That brave roar turned into a agonised howl, and through it all Talon heard a sickening crunch.
His eyes snapped open once more as the broken body of his child tumbled to the ground beside him, and a new fire burned inside him. Not in his head this time though, all pain was long forgotten. For what pain mattered now, when all was lost? No, this fire sparked from within his heart, and burned all the way through him, clearing the fog in his eyes that was now replaced by tears. He rounded on the monster, and the dozen or so soldiers left alive that fought it. The fight had moved now, and there was possibly another twenty feet between them. There was no shame in death any longer, now he wouldn’t die alone. He stepped forward, taking a breath, ready to-
The monster roared.
It wasn’t a normal roar, it was like nothing of this earth. An ancient, primal, bestial sound that ripped through the ears and dropped what little resistance that stood before it to the ground, curled up and bleeding from the ears. It was like a wall of noise, one so great that it knocked Talon back onto the ground, sending a stabbing bolt of pain up through his skull. But still, he staggered back upright, stumbling forward with only death on his mind. He had seen its final weapon now, there were no more surprises that it could wreak. But he crumbled after just a few feet, dropping to his knees and faltering, his heartbeat visible in his own eyes. He had brain damage, he could feel it. There was a blackness spreading across his mind, and he was clumsy and dull. He looked up weakly at the towering warrior, unable to show surprise even as a grappling hook wrapped neatly around his arm, attached to a chain that was now tied to an old fencepost made of stone. His mouth just hung weakly open as Griffons leapt from hiding as it was disarmed by surprise, slashing desperately at its hamstrings, and yet another diving for its throat. He could only spectate as the monster staggered, tethered by one arm, clubbing a hawk to death with its forehead like it had tried to do to him, and as a great bolt, fired by the ballista that had finally arrived, whooshed past him and aimed straight for the chest of the wounded monster.
The world only seemed to begin to reconnect as the Phoenix soldier turned, producing a shower of sparks as the two-foot bolt, tipped with an iron head, clashed harmlessly across its chest, staggering it but nothing more. He drew himself back up onto his paws as the beast growled, pulling the chain and ripping the stone post from the ground and swinging it around. Talon even managed to duck as the chain passed over his head, and turned to watch as the hunk of rock crashed into the side of the ballista and smashing it into splinters, the powerful bow flexing out straight and braining the brave griffon trying to reload it.
Talon spun clumsily back to face the Phoenix soldier as it cut easily through the chain with one of the blades on its hoof, paying the dazed, crippled griffon no heed at all as it drew a second weapon from its back, a curious glowing rifle that blew the cannon battery to pieces in a cacophonous boom and a blinding flash of blue light.
Finally steadying himself, Talon took stock of his troops. Not to his great surprise, he couldn’t see anyone alive for as far as his blurred vision would allow, save for four hulking figures in the distance, and one before him.
The last man standing.
Attempting a battle cry that came out more as a strangled croak, he drew his bow and staggered forward, but a massive hoof caught him and spun him around, hurling him easily across the battlefield. He felt weightless and easy for a moment, finally free of all constraint, his wings tucked limply at his sides, before he struck a wall with an agonising crunch, and he finally passed out.

Well, hope you guys like it!
Oh, and happy Russian Orthodox Christmas!

Comments

[Wireframe]

Now this is how you draw readers into your stories. This is a perfect example of how well show don't tell works. This has been a great introduction to the state of your world and to what the phoenix project is and can achieve. Showing it from the perspective of the ones getting defeated by the pheonix soldiers despite having the numbers and artillery to their advantage, is a fantastic way to emphasize how powerful these living machines are. It also blurs the lines on which side is the supposedly 'good side'. What is the main character in this scene might not have made it in the end judging by his injuries, which leaves only the pheonix soldiers as potential heroes or villains. This in turn might lend some strength to a future debate on pony's opinions of these phoenix soldiers.

It's an intense scene that sets a grim athmosphere without being over the top, written in an accessible visual action packed style that makes it easy to visualize what is going on and maintains a good pace. It feels too grand for a blogpost though, I'd consider finishing it and posting it as a story, maybe as a prequal chapter, so it might get some more exposure. I know you like your feedback after all, especially with how big this project of yours is becomming.

I know I'm definitely excited for the story itself.

It sounds like your New years eve was quite the night to remember. Or not remember in your case ^^ At the very least you were comfortable enough to dance, if only for a little conscious while. I'm glad you got out of it mostly unharmed though. It'll likely be something to think back fondly of in years to come and laugh about with your friends.

My own new years wasn't as eventful really. Normally my mom's side of the family tends to get together for a night of catching up, games and a lot of singstar, which some of us tend to be quite competitive in, even if most cannot really sing, myself included. That's half the fun though.This year I was informed it was cancelled the day before, and as my friends had scattered across the country I ended up just spending a nice peaceful evening alone. I did get a rare chance to talk through voice call with my long distance relationship into the long hours of the night, which, although not quite as interesting an anecdote, was quite a nice way to go into the new year.

[basalisk120]

1696810
Dude, now I know you're exaggerating. While I was super proud of some of it, it wasn't nearly long enough to set a decent scene or make you empathise with any of the characters.
Still, I do genuinely appreciate what you say. You're one of the best reviewers I know on this site, and while you're beautifully hyperbolic, you are (so far as I know) honest, and you know your stuff. So I'm gonna take it all as a big compliment, and proof that things went better than I'd thought! Though I doubt i'll release it as a oneshot for a little while yet... Perhaps if I plan to advertise a little.

And I'm glad you're enthusiastic, guess I'll have to get a move on!

I like the joke, but it's fair to say that it serves very little purpose than as a learning curve, or as something I'd rather avoid doing again. Shame I missed the fireworks, though.
That does sound like a pretty nice tradition though. I'd say it's a shame that you missed it, but I guess it can be nice to sometimes be to yourself in these circumstances. The call sounds nice though, I imagine it does the heart some good to connect with the one you love, especially if it's been a while since you last saw them.

[Wireframe]

1715447

I may have a tendency to get rather enthusiastic about something I like and I love to focus primarily on the positive and best sides of an author's writing, but I don't exaggerate as far as I'm ware, I mean what I write. I do ought to review more though and be a bit more active than I've become lately. I think it's important to leave some sort of feedback in gratitude for having been able to read and get immersed in a good story. Besides, it's generally fun to cheer people on in their creative endeavors and make some friends along the way.

The scene itself was set rather well in my opinion. Though one might not have empathized as much with Talon as one might have if the reader were to get to know his thoughts better or spend more time with him to get to know his goals and justification for his involvement in the battle, his actions and observations as described here go a long way to still paint an impression of who he is and what he stands for.

The fact that the battle is written mostly from his observations rather than somesort of birdseye view perspective adds to the sense of chaos of it all. Generally being confronted with his own fight with the Pheonix soldier and the numbers under his command thinning visible, provides a grim depiction of what each pheonix soldier is capable of. The occasional mention of what is happening around Talon, helps to give an impression of how the lines themselves fare.

There's this balance between describing too much, like spoon feeding your envisioned world to the reader, with potentially describing the veins of the leaves of the tree over yonder on that one hill by the castle and such, and having almost no detail whatsoever. Ideally you describe enough so the reader can visualize what is going on, but fills in a lot of the details himself based on previous experience in other forms of media with similar events, and the essential depictions that are important to your world or scene in particular. I think you're not too far off from that middle road.

The last MLP episode by the way had some more characterization for Soarin. I think though that your depiction of him in a Fire in his Heart isn't too far off.

My computer has finally been fixed to, so I might get a chance to drive some tanks again soon. Well... Break's over so time to get back to work...