I continue pacing up and down the entire train. The sun has risen by now, so the smoke generated by the locomotive will be visible. I had the gun crews woken up as soon as the night sky had brightened so they can be at their posts. So far, the trip has been smooth and uneventful. As much as I wish it could be otherwise, I can't help but feel a sense of imminent danger. Continuing my walk, I nod and return the many salutes both my men from earth and the ponies of the Royal Guard give me. It seems that I am now one of two field marshals for Equestria, the other being (to no surprise) my love, Princess Luna. Celestia is also a capable military leader, but she can have difficulty separating her personal emotions over the health of her pony subjects from what is needed to be done. Twilight is kept distant from directly participating in the war by a mutual agreement between me, the pony princess sisters, and Cadence to do our best to keep the youngest princess from being too scarred from the war.

I pass through yet another car, still in deep thought. 'Every time we gain a victory in defeating one of Cluny's task forces, another one pops out of the ground like daisies and sucker punches us! We have the advantage in moral, technology, Or at least we did. But we don't have the numbers. At least, we don't have the numbers to wage a war of attrition. Maybe the Japanese had a good idea. About having one big, decisive battle. All the marbles, winner takes all. I don't like the high chance of Cluny winning in such a battle but it might be the only way. And only if we do so soon. The number gap will surely increase for the enemy, and either maintain or worse, decrease on our side.' I shudder slightly at this thought, shaking my head slightly in an attempt to stop this conversation in my mind before it can cause any more distractions.

I finally stop at the flatbed gun car mounting one of the two 25mm Type 96 twin-gun mounts on the train. Suddenly everyone on the car is nearly thrown, myself included, into the coal tender when we hear a screeching sound. 'Why the hell did the engineer pull the brake?!' I fly to the train cabin, slightly furious at this sudden stop. Before I start to demand an answer for the reason why we had stopped, it instantly becomes clear why. Several large trees and rocks have been placed on the tracks ahead. It wasn't a natural accident. Someone placed them there, and by the looks of it, very recently.

Then it gets even better. And by better, I mean us getting fucked in the bad way.

On the right side, around the base of a hill, are several hundred Caroleans. But what is more breath-taking is what each Carolean is sitting atop of: A snarling, slobbering timberwolf. I turn to the stunned engineer and his fire-stoker. "Get that mess cleared ASAP. The two sailors up front will give you cover fire. Move, now." With a pair of salutes, the earth pony engineer and unicorn stoker leap out of the cabin on the left side. I fly back to the gun, giving orders to get it ready. "Comrade Captain, look!" A Russian sailor says his eyes wide.

"Mother of God," A Marine mutters as we stare at the sight on the hill. Three large wooden objects have been erected, each in the shape of an X. Tied by ropes and chains to each one, spread-eagle, are three ponies of the Equestrian Royal Guard. "Someone get me that damn range finder!" There is a bustle of movement before the seeing contraption is placed in front of me. I place my face against the eye pieces. My eyes widen when I see the sheen of oil on each pony's coat, and the large pile of objects perfect for a fire. Most ominous of what is about to happen is the single Carolean, dismounted, a lit torch in one hand.

"Oh no," I whisper, staring through the spare range finder one of the Russian sailors had brought. I can't help but stay rooted to the spot, horrified as the torch-bearing Carolean moves to the far left captive. I hear someone shout, "Shoot them! They're going to be set on fire! It will hurt when they burn! For the love of God, someone shoot them!" A second pony speaks up behind me, his reply aimed at the first pony that had shouted. "What?! Shoot our pony allies?" He asks incredulously. Any further talk of the subject is forever silenced as the Carolean has finally reached the end of the row and lowers his torch to the dry straw and wood piled at the feet of each pony, setting it on fire.

"Damn it!" I swear aloud as screams begin to reach us. I grab my Krag rifle, slightly pushing a stunned Marine out of the way. I line up my scope with the head of the first pony, a unicorn mare. The fire has barely reached her oil-coated fur, but it is rapidly approaching. With a heavy heart I pull the trigger, putting the mare out of her misery before it could even truly begin. I yank back my bolt of my old rifle as I watch the unicorn's body slump forward, held up only by the ropes and chains tying her hooves to the wooden X holding her and the other two. I turn my scope to the next one, a pegasus stallion whose lower half is burning. Again I pull the trigger and reload once the spent brass casing flies out of the breech. As I line up my sights on the third pony, an earth pony stallion that is completely ablaze and struggling to escape in vain, I hear someone say, "God have mercy, we didn't have a choice." Another crack and the final prisoner's torture ends with his death.

I fire one last shot, killing the Carolean that had been carrying the torch and set the now-silenced, burning ponies. "BURN IN HELL YOU SON OF A BITCH!" I scream, spittle flying out of my mouth. Beside me, my men start to growl like pissed-off tigers. Beside me, still looking through the range-finder he had brought with him from Smyshlyonyi, Lev Troitskiy speaks up in a guttural voice. "URRA!" The famous Russian war cry is echoed by others, both Russian and American, and even a few members of the Royal Guard further behind our coach car. I finally give the only command suitable for this. "CHARGE!" I shout, while one of my Marines, Lance Corporal Billy Franklin shouts his own encouragement equally suitable. "KILL THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS!" The earth pony from North Carolina howls, fixing his bayonet to his M1 Garand rifle. I start to head towards the door of the car we are in, the 25mm light cannons starting to fire at the incoming mass of riders eager for blood. Well, those bastards are not the only ones now. I place my rifle against a now-empty seat as my Marines and Naval Infantry soldiers, drawing my M1911 .45 Colt and my battle-scarred academy sword with my magic.

"KILL!" I howl as my men pour into the single coach car directly behind the first gun platform, my weapons drawn and hatred etched into their faces. "KILL EVERY LAST FUCKING CAROLEAN WITH WHATEVER YOU GOT!" Cocking my pistol, I aim upwards and fire a single shot to signal that we are about to step outside. "ATTACK, ATTACK!" I finish, moving towards the door. I turn around briefly, rearing up on my front legs. With a single mighty kick that would have put a donkey to shame, I buck my rear hooves into the wooden door. I hit it with so much force that the wooden door swings open violently, just barely staying on its hinges. Facing forward once more, I leap off the stationary train. "URRA!" I shout, the Russian war cry filling me with battle-lust. Again this way cry and others are echoed. I fire my pistol several times at the approaching Carolean riders as arrows fly towards us.

A single arrow hits a Marine that was standing left of me in his chest, going straight in his heart. His body takes a few steps forward before toppling facedown into the earth. A Russian takes an arrow to his chest and throat, and the poor sailor topples backwards on the ground. I continue firing my pistol, managing to hit a single rider in his eye, the nearly-spent bullet destroying the vulnerable organ lying behind the hateful gaze. 'Shit,' I think to myself as I fire the last two rounds at his mount, realizing yet another problem.

Unlike horses, which might turn around and flee, the timberwolves mounted by these attacking Caroleans just continue their sprint, savage teeth glittering from slobber as their wooden bodies creak and groan. Two rifles crack at the same time, one on either side of me. Two small clouds of splintered wood signal the death of the former mount. "Sir, the gunners are saying that it is taking more rounds then expected to take down the wolves further back," Billy shouts to me over the cacophony of gunshots.

"Da. In addition, the engineers are saying that the route is almost cleared up. We should fall back," Lev adds, working back the bolt of his Mosin-Nagant rifle, the used shell flying out of the breech. The Russian sailor-turned-Naval Infantry then slides the bolt forward, sending another 7.62mm round out of the five-round magazine and into the empty breech in a single, fluid motion. I watch as he lines up the iron sights at the end of his barrel. With a crack, the Russian rifle moves backwards slightly from the recoil as the bullet travels down the spiraling grooves that give a rifle its name, a slight flash of light signaling the release of the fumes from the propellant contained behind the lead. I strain my eyes in the effort to see what the Russian was aiming for.

A second later, I watch with grim satisfaction as I see the answer. The top of a horned Carolean explodes in a gory mess of red and grey as the bullet passes straight through. Then what happens next fills me with even greater joy. The dead rider was one of the few archers present, and had set his drawn arrow on fire. The archer must have been preparing to release the projectile just before his head met a Russian bullet, for the arrow shoots forward. Instead of landing in the vicinity of my men, however, it hits one of the mounted timberwolves in its hindquarters, setting the creature ablaze. Yelping in shock and pain, the beast ignores its master and falls back on an ancient instinct present in many living things: The fear of fire. Several other timberwolves, mostly ones dismounted and having no rider to control them also follow their wounded pack mate, though whether it is to help their comrade or finish him off or just simply being scared off is not sure.

Of course, at the moment I don't give a damn. The head of the (reduced) force is quickly approaching. I turn behind me, reloading my Colt once more after burying seven rounds into the skull of a timberwolf, and using the last round to deliver the coup de grâce to its stunned Carolean rider that had skidded towards my feet. The .45 Automatic Colt Pistol round blows a .45 inch hole into the back of the skull, the body twitching briefly as the front of his skull is blown to kingdom come. Now a second Carolean approaches me on foot, a sword raised in an overhead swing, slightly slowed by a painful-looking bullet wound to his left shoulder. I use my magic to press the magazine release button as I ready my sword. With a single slash, I decapitate the Carolean.

About a third of the timberwolf mounts had been killed or disabled by now from either the Japanese 25mm shells or bullets from our long-range bullets. Against my orders, Rainbow Dash and Lightning Dust have taken flight from the second flat bed truck where I had them stationed to pass messages to the other gun mounts to keep the others aware of the second half of the train's surroundings. The two bold, adventurous, and a tad bit reckless pegasi who have appeared to renewed their friendship now drop large rocks overhead, either slaying or slowing down the foes farther back. I take a brief moment to sigh at this. 'Sometimes I swear that I feel like I'm speaking to a brick wall when I try to give everyone from Ponyville explicit orders to stay down.'

The sound of steel clashing regains my focus. Most of the front group of Caroleans had been killed, and so there is quiet a gap between the forty or so riders and mounts that are an immediate danger and the two hundred or so farther behind. A mounted Carolean buries his scimitar straight through the cap and skull of a Russian sailor, going the entire way through. The snarling timberwolf lunges forward and grabs the leg of a Marine whose back was turned briefly. The wooden demon starts to viciously maul the exposed back of my fellow American soldier. With a burst of fire, the rider topples backwards onto the dirt, his face and chest a bloody pulp from the impact of the entire seventy-one rounds from the durable PPSh-41 submachine gun being held by a Russian pegasus sailor. The sound of a Thompson quickly follows, the head of the distracted timberwolf shattering into splinters, rescuing the injured Marine. I jump into the air and spread my wings, gliding to a stop right behind them, ready to provide covering fire. To my right slightly ahead a Marine fires his M1903 Springfield bolt-action rifle twice in quick procession, taking out both the mount and its horrific rider that were bearing down on him. A second timberwolf, this one rider-less, lunges at him. Before I can call out in warning, American Marine spins around, dropping down with his rifle extended. The sun glitters off of the cold steel bayonet the bayonet he had attached to it. With the sound of splintering wood, the wolf-formed creature skids right into the over-sized knife, its open jaw a perfect target. With the calm posture of one who had trained with the bayonet, the pegasus thrusts his blade deep into the unprotected mouth, a howl of pain briefly heard before being cut-off with a gurgle. I continue to watch with mounting pride as the Marine withdraws the blade and looks for a new target. Then I hear a piercing sound.

"FALL BACK MEN! FALL BACK TO THE TRAIN!" I shout, my voice amplified with magic so it can be heard over the battle. The sound of the whistle indicating that it is time to go, for the two engineers have finally cleared enough of the blockage from under the protective fire of the two Russian unicorns who're operating the 12.7mm DShK, and enough steam had finally been allowed to build up to get the until-then motionless train. Already I can see puff of white smoke exit the funnel of the iron locomotive. Like rain falling over the fire of a camp, my brave warriors disengage and rush aboard the train, members of the Royal Guard holding out hooves out of doors and over the sides of the two flat beds, pulling ponies aboard to safety.

I hold back, my eyes gazing. Of the dead, only the bodies and weapons of slain Caroleans and their hellish mounts are left lying around on the dirt. Our dead have been removed with their weapons along with the wounded. 'One less mess to deal with,' I think to myself, slightly morbid. Suddenly a dozen Carolean warriors form a half circle in front of me. Aside from the hateful glares and savage snarls of their barely-tamed mounts, all is silent. The second wave of riders slows down and then stops further behind. While my men continue to scurry back to the safety of the train, I continue to return the stare-down for a few moments. Then the rider in the center slowly steps off his mount, his long, jagged saber held forward. I assume he is the leader by his bearing, garish and horrific war paint, and sheer height of the rider. Then he speaks.

"Alicorn! You are much desired by my masters! Your death will bring great honor, capture even more so! I challenge you to a one-on-one duel! Winner shall decide the loser's fate! What say you?" The horned warrior roars, his followers and mine both watching now that all my Marines and Naval Infantry back aboard. I flip the safety on and holster my pistol, raising my sword in a ready stance. If I kill the leader, the others will be thrown into chaos, giving the train time to gain more distance. And I have a more personal reason to accept this duel, despite the probability that the warrior standing before me is a veteran of combat, the scars on his arms, chest, and face providing ample proof. This bastard forced me to kill three of my lover's subjects, regardless of the reason that had made this result. And the small amount of my men who were slain in this cowardly ambush only provides even more of the burning rage threatening to consume me.

"I thought Caroleans had no sense of honor. Maybe I was mistaken, though those three burning corpses on that hill shout quite the opposite. But very well, I accept the challenge on one condition: Who sent you? And I don't mean your master Cluny. What is the name of the son-of-a-bitch who ordered this?"The Carolean discards his small, wooden shield with a cruel smirk. "Seeing as you will be meeting him very soon, after I finish killing your warriors while you are bound, I think there won't be any consequences for telling you the answer of such a simple question. Henry. Now, prepare to taste defeat!" The horned monstrosity shrieks as he charges forward with surprising speed. I roll to the side, barely missing the blur of movement I will be fighting.

I allow myself a brief moment of distraction as what the Carolean captain had just informed me sinks in. 'Shit. Why the fuck is it always my fucking brother? But it seems he wants me alive. Why? I doubt it is to have a nice simple drink or two and just mess around like the old days,' I think. And that is all I have time to think as I hear the faint sound of an object cutting through the air. With a grunt I parry the cruelly-shaped saber with my own blade. Desiring to regain some breathing space, I leap backwards, the Carolean blade continuing to move downwards into the dirt.

I thrust my sword forward in an attempt to skewer one or maybe even both of the Carolean's exposed arms. With a heave, the captain's jagged blade leaps upwards as it is yanked from the embrace of the earth. A clash of steel is heard as my blade is knocked upwards, my chest now exposed. Before the warrior can take advantage however, I rear up on my hind legs, whipping my sword towards his left flank as I lash out with my front hooves. Both hit. My left hoof glances off his shoulder but it is my right hoof that does more damage.

With a sickening crash, the Carolean reels backwards from the impact of my hoof hitting his right temple. Most Caroleans would probably be dead from such a hit, especially if said blow was delivered with the strength of a pissed-off alicorn. But for this Carolean, the blow causes him to be briefly stunned. He's definitely tough; I will give him credit for that. I launch a rapid set of strikes with lightning speed, my sword constantly in motion. The Carolean shakes his head and regains his balance just in time. He tries to block all of my blows, deep notches quickly forming in both of our steel blades as a testament of the strength and speed of their wielders.

Beads of sweat from our exertions start to roll down our foreheads. I can hear the train starting to move once again while the remaining Caroleans are distracted by the fight, urging their captain on and jeering at me. I am running out of time. I decide that fuck honor. I promised my lover that I will return to her alive, and I will be damned to all hell if I am made to look like a liar. With a single kick, I plant my left hoof right between the Carolean's legs. With an almost-humorous expression, the warrior's eyes widen as he drops his sword to clutch his nether region. That will be his second fatal mistake. The first was ambushing me and using torture on prisoners while doing so. It will also be his last mistake he shall ever make.

With a final clang, my sword cleaves straight through his neck, the sharpened blade severing arteries, veins, and flesh as it goes through like a hot knife through butter. A dull thud is heard as the severed head falls onto the ground, rolling a bit like a morbid soccer ball before stopping. Twitching for a few seconds, the body forward as blood starts to spurt into the air from the stump that was once a neck. Thankfully, the blackish-red liquid barely misses me, splattering harmlessly to the ground a mere inch or two from my front hooves. All is silent for a moment, the remaining riders stunned at the death of what they surely must have believed to be their invincible captain. Then the silence is finally broken by two sounds: The movement of the large wheels that carry the train on the iron tracks, and a very distinctive female voice from above.

"JACOB! THAT FIGHT WAS AWESOME AND WHATNOT, BUT WE'RE LEAVING NOW! YOU GOTTA GET ON THE TRAIN!" I nod my head to the Element of Loyalty as I turn around and start galloping at full throttle to rejoin my men. When I am half-way between where my slain opponent and his surviving command and the train, I finally hear various Carolean war cries as the shock finally wore off and the desire to resume killing takes over. At that moment I smirk. 'Morons,' I think to myself as I spread my feathery wings and leap into the air, leaving the riders far behind.

By now the train is finally moving at full speed. When my brave and faithful soldiers see my royal-blue coat and crisp white uniform that I came to this world with, they start cheering. Even the members of the Royal Guard join in. With a slight gasp from having run and fly so fast for quite some time, I land on the now-cleared area directly behind the 25mm gun mount on the front flatbed car. The soldiers there start to trot forward to continue congratulating me when I hold up a dusty hoof.

"We can cheer later, for now we must stay alert! We have no idea if this was the only ambush the enemy has planned or if there are more, possibly larger, forces. Lev, tell the engineers to do whatever they can to get this train moving even faster. Billy, take care of our dead and wounded. Get me the numbers and take stock of how much bullets and shells we have left. Everyone else, don't shoot at anything unless it fires back. We're going to need every last round when we get to Princess Cadence and the Crystal Empire."

Then a sudden sneeze catches us all off-guard. It can't be a Carolean, but where and who are they? The former is seen quickly in the form of not one, but two lumps shifting slightly underneath the tarp we had placed in one corner to protect the gun from the elements we will encounter in the north before entering the Crystal Empire. The tarp had been surrounded by ammunition boxes that had held the fifteen-round clips that are used by the Type 96. After the ambush, however, a fair number of boxes have been either emptied and tossed out or moved closer to the gun. I gesture for Rainbow Dash to swoop down and remove the tarp as I creep closer, weapons sheathed but at the ready.

A brief streak of rainbow-colored hair goes by and is quickly followed by the tarp, thankfully just further inside the confines of the car and not off it. My eyes widen and several sailors, Marines, and a fairly large number of the Royal Guard gasp in shock. 'OH, COME ON!' I mentally scream. "This is so not cool!" Rainbow Dash says beside me. This is perfect to describe what I think of this.

Now exposed and giving us sheepish looks are Princess Twilight Sparkle and her purple-and-green dragon assistant Spike.

The lavender alicorn gives a weak smile at both RD and I. "Hey guys," the princess of friendship says, a tad bit nervous. Spike says nothing, his looks indicating that he wished he was back in Canterlot, probably with Rarity. I am truly surprised that everyone knows this but the purple-mane unicorn Element of Generosity. And for Pete's sake, at times his actions around her are like a flashing light bulb at times. Then another thought hits me. "Princess Celestia is going to be so mad at you when we return to Canterlot. You know that, right?" I ask, stating what I hope is the obvious to her.

Again another sheepish nod. "I'm sorry, Captain Jacob. I just couldn't keep away from my niece, brother, and sister-in-law at a moment like this," Twilight says. I nod my head to myself. I change my tone from a stern tone to one more comforting. "Once again I am pleasantly surprised by the level of devotion and support you ponies give one. Seeing as we just escaped from an ambush and can't afford to try our luck with heading back to drop you off even if we had the time, you can come with us. If you promise to follow each and every single order I give you from now on until we return to Canterlot. Agreed?"

I try to not smile at the large grin the youngest alicorn princess gives me. "I promise!" She says excitedly. I turn to Billy Franklin. "Corporal, you're in charge of keeping her safe." The Marine snaps to attention. "Sir, yes sir!" I smile at this response. "Oh, and Spike, you better send a message of what happened to Celestia's protégée before she starts searching all of Equestria. Don't mention to either her or Princess Luna about the Ambush. Or at least, not yet," I tell the small dragon. He nods and walks off, undoubtedly looking for a scroll and a quill or pen to write with.

The land along the path the train is using soon becomes a blur. With a little luck and a whole lot of speed, and barring any more incidents, we should arrive at the Crystal Empire train station around late afternoon. I order my men to get some rest before I lie down on the flatbed car and take a brief nap. It will not be a peaceful one, for already I start to see the faces of comrades I have lost in both this war and the war back in the Pacific Ocean. Before I finally drift off, two faces stand out in my mind above all the others, and not just because they are the only ones present that are still among the living. The first, and much, much more welcomed, is the face of my beautiful lover Luna. The other one, not even remotely as welcomed, is the face of my younger brother when we were stationed in Pearl Harbor on the 8th of December last year. Then sleep overtakes me.

5:45 PM

I can't help but grin at the energetic smiles present on the face of both alicorn princesses. They run towards the other, stopping in the center of the throne room. Shining Armor looks at me and we grin at one another as the two sister-in-laws perform their special greeting that they have used from when Cadence was the foal-sitter of the future princess of friendship to this day:

"Sunshine, Sunshine

Ladybug's awake!

Clap your hooves and do a little shake!"

After that they briefly hug one another before I step forward, my cleaned and sharpened sword and pistol at my sides as I clear my throat slightly. When the princess of love looks at me, I straighten my body and salute her. "Princess Cadence, I am reporting for duty with reinforcements. We await your command," I say solemnly. Once the salute returned by Shining Armor and Cadence is returned the air of business. "Yes, of course. I hope that you are prepared to take command of the Crystal Imperial Army. Shining Armor had our combat engineers build trenches and other fortifications. Thankfully, we do have the advantage of terrain. The only way for an army to reach us directly from Vanhoover is through the canyon. That is where the army has been deployed. They await your command, Captain Jacob," The pink alicorn says.

I nod, having already memorized the surrounding terrain last night. There is one other path that could allow the entire Carolean army to attack the city: the frozen tundra of the north. But it will take longer, and I doubt Cluny would want to allow us to build our major cities into fortresses. "May I see where the lines have been placed?" I request, wanting to see the fortifications in order to decide where I want to place my men and our precious artillery. "I will do so now, if you wish," Shining offers. I nod once more in agreement.

Twilight's older brother turns to his sister now. "Twily, when we return, we're going to have to talk about you sneaking off from Canterlot. For now I will also assign a guard from the Crystal Empire. Flash Sentry, congrats. You get to have the job," The white unicorn informs an orange earth pony with a blue mane wearing armor. I raise an eyebrow when I notice Twilight's slight blush but say nothing. Another story for another time. Time to start planning.

I grunt in approval at what I see before me. "Please pass on my congratulations to your engineers for their work. They did well," I tell a proud Shining Armor. And indeed the Crystal Empire soldiers have. At the end of the canyon nearest to the city, a single trench stretches from one side to the other, the steep sides providing the area with a formidable natural defense against flanking attacks. A second trench line has been dug a few yards from the entrance. Two more trenches, each wider than the previous one, follow, about thirty yards apart from one another. Two pairs of our seven cannons has been placed in special dug-outs between the second and third trenches, snow and earth piled up to protect and hid the gun and its crew. Another pair is placed near the rear, and the final cannon has been placed near the center of the city to protect if the unthinkable happens and we have to abandon the city.

I turn to Cadence's husband. "I will take half of my Marines and most of the Russian Naval Infantry and occupy the first trench. We will try to ambush the first attack and either hold onto the area for as long as possible or pull back after the attack is over. The enemy general, if he is smart, will send waves of soldiers to attack us instead of a single attack en mass. In the canyon his numbers are negated, and their ability to maneuver virtually non-existent. I will start to place my men into position once night falls. We should use the soldiers of the Royal Guard detachment I brought as a sort of mobile reserve to be used only in critical areas, as well as to plug any large holes in our lines that may form," I state, already making a mental list of who I want to bring. I will leave about twenty Marines and five of the Russians to guard the train to use as a way to evacuate the princesses and as many injured as possible if the city falls. Thankfully I found out shortly after arriving that Cadence and Shining's daughter, Flurry Heart, had also been evacuated to Canterlot.

The prince of love nods. After a brief chat on the way to the trenches, we quickly formed a friendship as fellow soldiers. I am grateful that it appears that Shining and I will have a good relationship that will not affect our men during the battle, as has sometimes occurred in the past, thus causing what should have been a total victory to end in defeat or worse, a stalemate such as the abundance of examples the Great War had shown. "Can we hold, Jacob?" The unicorn asks me bluntly. Away from others who might hear us and thus spread rumors that would cripple our morale, I am able to answer frankly. "I'm honestly not sure. What I do know is that we will hold for as long as possible and make the enemy fight so hard that they will not enjoy their victory if the worst happens to us."

While we continue talking, I continually gaze out at the winding canyon, knowing that in a few days, this quiet area will erupt into chaos, and the pristine white snow will be painted in blood and gore. This is where the fate of the Northern Theater shall be decided. And I will be fucked if I don't do any and everything within my power to stop the approaching onslaught of death.

May 15th 1:30 AM

Another sound of the whip urging on their warriors greets the ears of Gu'klas and Henry. Drums beat and horns sound, the men tired of the wait and eager to start killing. The surviving timberwolf scouts had returned some time ago with the report of their failure. Instead of out-right executing them, however, Henry had ordered them to serve as scouts. And so they have brought word of their target. Before finally pitching a temporary camp for the night, the two commanders have learned that they are roughly two days away from the canyon leading to their target, the Crystal Empire.

In three days, the first wave of Caroleans shall attack, and Cluny's darkness will continue its rightful spread across Equestria.

Battleship of Equestria

by MorgothII

Ambush