“No, the other part,” Twilight said. “I have a plan.”
* * *
Discord sat in his self-made command tent, gazing down at a map of the city of Gallopilli and its surrounding lands as he twirled his mustache, a part of his self-induced costume: a monocle for his left eye, a bright red coat crossed by two white straps across his shoulders, a pith helmet on his head, and a smoking pipe in his clawed hand.
Marks had been made on the map, representing the deployment of enemy forces in the capital, their numbers, his own forces, and the defenders of the city’s keep. Things were not looking good for the draconequus and his merry band of followers.
“Where should we launch our first assault, Lord Discord?” Landed Title asked worriedly.
Discord hummed, mismatched eyes flicking across the map. “We’ll make a massive attack on the main gate,” he decided after a moment of consideration. “My spies say that the gate is in disrepair, thanks to Holdfast’s army breaking through there. It’s unlikely that he’ll have been able to construct and fortify defenses quickly enough to make that spot a more difficult to attack.”
The mare nodded in understanding, giving Discord a small smile. “Shall I prepare the troops?” she inquired.
Discord was silent for a moment as he looked once more at the map. Then he blinked up at Landed Title and nodded.
“Prepare an attack on the main gate,” he commanded. The mare curtseyed clumsily and hobbled away, trying to exit the tent while in her mismatched armor. Just as she reached the tent flap, a young colt came charging in, knocking Landed Title to the ground. A string of indignant curses could be heard from the mare as the newly arrived male pegasus heaved in great breaths of air. He snapped a hurried salute to Discord and spoke.
“Lord Discord!” he squeaked. “News from the scouts! Holdfast’s armor suits-”
“Armoroids,” Discord corrected. The colt blinked and nodded.
“Armoroids,” he resumed. “They’ve been reinforced by members of the Emerald Legion! A tall grey being like yourself leads them to defend the walls of the city!”
Discord blinked. “Eh?” he coughed. “Bael is here? Well, carp.”
The draconequus sat heavily in his chair, idly twirling his mustache as he digested the new information, his stomach inflating as he thought.
“Humm,” he mumbled, eyes sliding shut. “What to do...”
“Young one,” Landed Title rasped, calling for the pegasus scout’s attention. “Help me back up, if you don’t mind.”
“OH!” the colt squeaked. “I’m so sorry, Lady Title!” He darted over to the downed pony and assisted in heaving her back to her hooves. Now righted, she turned to Discord, her gaze questioning.
“Lord Discord?” she called.
No response.
“Lord Discord!”
He snored.
Landed Title sighed. “Honestly,” she growled, pulling off a gauntlet and hurling it at Discord’s sleeping form. “LORD DISCORD!”
The draconequus jerked in surprise when the gauntlet hit him and blinked in awareness. “We’ll make a wall!” he cried, “and the Armoroids will pay for it! No! Better idea! We’ll make a drill to pierce the wall of Ba Sing Se! No! No, no, no! Bestest idea! We’ll make balloon ponies near the north wall, balloon ponies near the south wall to pretend we’ll be attacking there! And then...WE WON’T! BALLOON PONIES FOR EVERYPONY!”
Landed Title stood frozen in surprise until finally she cleared her throat and spoke. “Balloon ponies?” she questioned. Discord nodded his head confidently, his face set in an eager, manic smile.
“Yes! Balloon ponies! Or any kind of fake pony really. Straw ponies, Metal Ponies, Griffon pony spy suits. Any kind of vaguely pony shaped object you can find or make, really. We place them just barely visible, just peaking out from a window. Or hiding around a corner. Throw in some heavy mist or fog from spells or dry ice to obscure them just right and-” Discord kissed the air like a french chef. “-instant army.”
“But why? Why waste time building all of these fake armies rather than spending our time on building siege equipment or engines to break through a single point?” Landed Title asked.
“It’s elementary, my dear Lucy Liu,” Discord said, using his magic to manipulate the map. “We are now officially outnumbered. We actually had a chance with the forces we had. Before Bael’s forces showed up to spoil the party, of course. We could have sieged a section of the wall and would most likely have breached it. But now, our chances of success are blessed. So, we must-”
“Hide and pray the villain’s anger is gone before they find us?” The young colt asked looking worried.
“No, my little coward. I was going to say, ‘cheat like crazy’. Stack all of the decks. Throw all of the dirt in all of the eyes. We must play so underhanded that Mos Eisley is relegated to only the second greatest hive of scum and villainy,” Discord declared. “Hence the fake armies. If we can force the enemy to split his forces up defending various points of the wall, we can focus all of our might on a single point that he hopefully wasn’t defending. We can breach the wall, or we can try to hit two points on the wall simultaneously, but any more than that and we suffer the same issue we’re trying to force our enemy to experience.”
The two ponies blinked at Discord, thinking on the plan he’d just laid out to them. The draconequus waited for their response, mildly apprehensive and extremely impatient. Landed Title spoke, saving Discord the trouble of prompting a response.
“Could be worse,” she said finally. “It has merit.”
“I still say we run and hide,” the colt piped up. He was silenced by a rap upside the head from Landed Title.
“I’ll order the troops to begin construction on the dummy ponies,” Landed Title said. “Do you have enough magic to create some, specifically, at least half of what we need?”
Discord puffed up his chest regally. “Of course I can,” he sniffed, sticking his pipe between his teeth. “Q Discordinton Esquire, Magical Supreme, at your service.” He gave a low bow and smirked at the mare. “Begin construction, m’lady. The Ent- ehm, the Ponies are marching to war!”
* * *
Bael sat on a building’s roof top, green eyes surveying the wall and its defenders arrayed before him. His defenses were sound. Each parapet was guarded by a duo of soldiers; one armor suit, one daemon-pony. The remains of the main gate had been torn down, replaced by stone and mortar to provide a more defensible and stalwart bulwark against outside attack. Bael knew that any attacks would come from this direction. Ideally, the attackers assumed that the gate remained as it was: a rebuilt gate that could be taken and opened. Instead, they’d come upon a plug, a reintegration of the gate as a part of the wall itself.
Rolling to his clawed feet, Bael stretched, working the kinks from his bent back in preparation for any attack that would come. Half an hour ago, a scout had run to him, informing Bael of movement within the trees just beyond the range of his forces’ arrows. Apparently, the False God was preparing an assault on the walls. A smirk curled Bael’s lips, feeling excited apprehension. He could just see the looks of surprise and horror on the False God’s face when he saw the defenses he’d wrought on the main gate. Bael expected the reaction to be similar, if not exactly the same, to the horrified look of surprise the False God had made when his power had been bound and taken.
“Sir!”a demon-pony cried, running up to him. “The enemy army appears to be massing for an assault on the south gate!” Just as this demon pony finished a second one ran up.
“The enemy appears to be preparing to assault the eastern gate.” A third then appeared along with a fourth and a fifth all carrying similar messages of the enemy preparing to attack a different section of the wall. The smirk faded from Bael as he looked at the different messengers in turn, all of them yapping ceaselessly, trying to be heard.
“Silence!” he commanded, glaring at the soldiers. Immediately, they shut up. “One at a time now.” He pointed at the first messenger.
“Enemy forces are massing to attack the southern gate.” The ‘gate’ Bael had rebuilt, the stone bulwark.
He pointed to the next messenger.
“Enemy forces are massing to assault the eastern gate.” So the gate left mostly unguarded with only a skeleton defense. Bael swore under his breath. He’d have to remedy that problem with reinforcements. He gestured to the next messenger.
“The south eastern rampart is under fire from the treeline.” Perhaps a weakening tactic to prepare for a ladder assault. He pointed to the fourth.
“Enemy forces are shelling the northern gate. Literally.” Bael rubbed at his eyes. The northern gate was beside a beachhead that apparently had shells on it. With a sigh, he pointed to the last messenger.
“Enemy forces are massing to attack the northeastern rampart.” Bael blinked. Did the False God even have enough troops to assault five separate positions? A skeptical frown crossed Bael’s face and he scrutinized the grounds beyond the southern plug. There was certainly movement in the trees there. All signs of a preparation for an attack.
Bael made a broad gesture over the heads of the daemon-pony messengers. “Reinforce all points of attack,” he commanded, “except for the Plug. I shall personally lead the defenders there.” Their orders received, the daemon-ponies darted away to complete their tasks. Bael’s frown grew as he thought on the tactics of the False God. Multiple points of attack on multiple fronts didn’t seem within the False God’s capabilities. He had a smaller force, only half the size of Bael’s alone. At most. Either the False God was using a ruse to hide his main attack force.
Or he was stalling.
A feral snarl curled Bael’s lips and he leapt from his rooftop to land on the street below. A spiderweb of cracks radiated outward from where he’d landed. Straightening, Bael made his way to the plug, feeling that the False God’s main attack would be there while the rest of the attacks were merely diversionary.
Once he’d reached the wall, Bael knelt down, flexed his reverse jointed legs, and leapt to the ramparts. He landed once more, lightly this time to the surprise of his troops. He walked to the ramparts’ edge, gazing out at the treeline.
“The False God will attack here!” he boomed to his troops. “Ready yourselves for battle!” His daemon-ponies roared a response while the armor suits merely saluted, clanking a metal hoof to their respective breastplates. Their battle cries fell silent when they heard the trampling of hooves on hard dirt coming from the treeline beyond the wall. The False God’s forces were approaching.
“Stand ready,” Bael ordered, his green eyes flaring with contained rage as he listened to the approaching host. The tramping got louder and louder. The leaves of the trees shivered with each step, some of which fell due to the shaking of the ground. Several of the daemon-ponies almost fled their posts in fear of the approaching host, only to be glared into standing their ground by Bael. He swung his head back to the treeline, watching apprehensively. A figure coalesced in the foliage of the trees, growing larger as it moved closer to the wall. Bael swallowed when he saw the massive barrel of some weapon protruding over the figure’s head.
The figure exited the forest and he could clearly see Discord holding a massive cannon. It was as large as a Minotaur’s bombard, yet it lacked a base. Instead, Discord was holding it with just his hands.
As strong as that weapon could be, there is still only one, Bael thought, relieved. Discord kneeled down putting the weapon over his shoulder and looked down the miniature telescope on its side. Bael ducked behind the crenelations figuring it would be a poor showing if Discord took him out now. After a few seconds of silence, however, he peeked back up just in time to see Discord press a seemingly hidden button causing legs to appear from the device as its barrel lengthened and grew even larger. Bael watched the device in awe as the weapon grew, with a loud thump, it launched its payload.
Bael didn’t have the time to duck behind the crenelations before the weapon’s shot impacted the wall. The foamy substance exploded across the wall in a blanket, causing the stone to get a little more slippery, but ultimately failing to do any damage. Seemingly satisfied, Discord shrunk the weapon again and walked away his humming just faintly audible to Bael back on the wall. Bael observed the new almost wintery state of the fortifications. Several of his troops slipping in the foamy beigish substance. Bael scooped a bit of the substance off his face and studied it closely noticing that its smell reminded him of a bakery he’d passed in the city on his way to the wall. Finally after a few seconds he gave into curiosity and tasted the substance,
“Banana Cream?” Bael questioned.
“I didn’t have anything else, so yeah, Banana Cream,” Discord called over his shoulder. “Enjoy.” He disappeared into the treeline, leaving a bewildered commander and his subordinates on a cream covered wall.
“Wait, wat?” Bael squawked. “That’s it?! Just a cream filled bomb?!” The grey being groaned in irritation.
“Oh, that’s not it,” Discord replied, his voice echoing out from the forest. “My plan was a success.”
Bael frowned, wiping banana cream from his face. “Really?” he sneered. “And what plan was that?”
“Stalling.”
A cry of surprise went up from the northern gate and the sound of combat reached Bael’s ears.
“...Curses,” he swore.
* * *
“We’re lucky that Discord managed to contact us before we did something stupid,” Purple Heart mused as he threw hare after hare towards the parapets of the northern wall. “His plan actually worked.” Fluttershy was standing beside him, healing any wounded ponies or hares that were thrown back.
“I hope everyone survives this,” she said timidly. “I don’t like fighting.”
“‘Shy,” Purple Heart drawled, “you’re absolutely adorable.”
Immediately, the yellow pegasus’ eyes hardened as she glared over her shoulder at the Purple Barbarian. “Is this another one of those ‘waifu’ comments?” she asked darkly.
“Nope!” Purple Heart replied abruptly. “Nothing to do with waifu comments whatso-freaking-ever! No relation at all!”
Eyes narrowing, Fluttershy turned back to the hare she was healing. “It had better not,” she warned. “I’ll tell Wits about it.”
The effect of Fluttershy’s threat was glaringly obvious as a hare hit the wall instead of going over it.
“Yes, ma’am!” Purple Heart squeaked.
Fluttershy nodded, huffing in satisfaction. “Good boy.”
A messenger hare ran up to Purple Heart and saluted sharply. “Purple Bruise sah! The Mismatched One’s forces are distracting the eastern front remarkably well! Word from the top says that the attack is on schedule!”
“Well done,” Purple Heart said weakly, resigned to his new title. “I’ll begin my charge momentarily.”
“Aye sah! Though you should know, the Grey Beast is on the prowl. He heard the fighting from the Plug Spot and is making his way to the northern gate as we speak.”
Purple Heart shivered and groaned. “Looks like I have to capture the gate territory before Bael gets there. Bandai Namco games for the win. Return to your station, sergeant.”
“Aye sah!” The messenger scampered off to his other duties, leaving Purple Heart and Fluttershy.
“Be careful,” Fluttershy urged. “I’ll join you when the gate is taken.”
Purple Heart nodded briskly and charged off. “Legionnaires, to me!” he roared. His waiting troops sprung to action and followed their commander, their banner snapping in the wind overhead. Arrows rained down on them as they bore down on the iron reinforced wooden gate. Legionnaires fell left and right, but they remained stalwart, charging towards the gate, intent on shattering the obstacle. Purple Heart narrowed his eyes, aiming for the center of the two massive doors. Once he’d pulled close enough, he leapt, rearing back his right foreleg.
“Jan Ken Hufu!” he boomed, whirling his right leg forward and smashing its golden glow against the gate. The gate shuddered, but remained firm. Small cracks spread from the point of impact. Purple Heart gritted his teeth and whirled around so that his hind end was facing the gate.
“Nail Kick!” he roared, peppering the wooden obstacle with piercing strikes that weakened the structure. “Push!” The Legionnaires crashed against the gate, setting their combined weight against it. The cracks from Purple Heart’s first attack grew and spread, raising the morale of the Legionnaires. They roared in unison and heaved, crashing a second time against the wooden portal. The cracks grew and spread. In the lull between strikes, hoofsteps could be heard on the other side as the defenders attempted to shore up the gate.
“I think not,” Purple Heart growled. He stood on his hind legs and clapped his front legs together to stop or at least give the defenders pause. “SOOOOOOOOOPEEEEER~!” The defenders fell silent, obviously surprised at the unknown call from beyond the gate.
“ONCE MORE!” Purple Heart called to the Legionnaires. “FURY! JAN KEN HUFU!” The Fury-augmented attack struck the gate and the wood shattered enough for the Legionnaires to ram their way through. Which they did with extreme prejudice. Battlecries reaching to the sky, the Legionnaires broke through and fell upon the Traitor Legion and the armor suits of Holdfast with rage.
“Bludgeon or crush, that’s how you destroy the armor suits!” Purple Heart called as he ran up the stairs of the wall and onto the ramparts. He reached the top, defeating or dislodging defenders as he went, and waved a hoof at the forces beyond the wall. “CHARGE!” The Hares and Discord’s forces roared in response and moved to join the assault.
“Well done, Purple Barbarian,” a voice congratulated. Purple Heart froze and slowly turned to see Bael standing at the edge of the wall, a frown etched into his stony face.
“Bael,” Purple Heart greeted warily.
“You’ve graduated from ‘minor annoyance’ to ‘impertinent gnat’,” Bael said. “Now I’m going to stomp on you.”
“...Carp,” Purple Heart swore as they fell into a tense silence.
* * *
“It’s this way!” Fluttershy directed a squad of the Emerald Legion loyalists through the streets of Gallopilli. While Purple Heart lead the assault to retake the wall with most of the Legionnaires and Legion-hares, the yellow pegasus and half a dozen troops marched on the castle to create a path. “The castle is right this way!”
“We know, lass,” one of the hares said. “It’s a great bloody castle in th’ middle of th’ city.”
“It is literally right there,” a Legionnaire added, pointing a forehoof at the massive castle dominating the skyline.
Fluttershy’s ears drooped. “Oh…”
“Not to worry, Acting Captain Fluttershy!” a giant of a Legionnaire stepped forward, the light of the sun glinting off his bare scalp. “We’ll get to the Queen and your friends! I swear it on the Stronghoof family name! Our legacy stretches back for generations!”
“Ignore him,” the first Legionnaire said softly, leading Fluttershy a bit away from the imposing giant. “He always does things like that. But he’s right about one thing: we’ll get you to your friends, Acting Captain.”
Fluttershy nodded. “Thank you. Let’s not take anymore time, then.”
“‘Bout time,” a second hare shouted. “I’ve got some tiny knives to put to use on those traitors at the gates!”
“Very well!” the giant shouted, the armor around his barrel chest falling to the ground. “I’ll get us there in record time, with the technique passed down the Stronghoof family line for GENERATIONS!” With a roar, the Legionnaire charged straight at the castle, crashing through the walls of buildings between him and his goal.
The remaining members of the squad stared after the path of destruction in silence. “Wow.” A unicorn Legionnaire with a longbow strung over his back whistled as the sounds of breaking masonry faded into the distance. “That… happened.”
“Then let’s take advantage of th’ brute’s exuberance!” a hare shouted. “Come on, lassie! Let’s go!”
“Right!” Fluttershy nodded, looking up at the castle wall. “I’m coming, girls…”