Prologue - Over the Hills and Far Away
Over the hills and far away, there was a land which was inhabited by peculiar creatures; these beings preferred two feet to four. One of these beings was a man of around thirty, Roderick Windermere, a captain of the King’s Vanguard his majesty Gregory Silverbeard, The descendant of Dragons, King of Man and his entire domain and the ruler of the Griffin clans to the east. Well that was his official title but in reality the young boy of 16 lacked a Silverbeard, no dragon traits at all and Griffin’s had a ruler of their own.
In fact his Royal Highness was a Royal pain, he often over indulged himself. Expensive Armour, expensive weapons, expensive steeds, expensive hunting trips and an expensive woman, his wife Cecilia, Cecilia was quite the lady, the complete opposite from her stuck up and prude little husband, she was around the years of Twenty Seven and had long flowing locks of blonde hair, platted, silk dresses made from the Equestrian clouds and a figure that would have one thousand men lust at her feet, she was of House Goldenclaw, upon her marriage to Gregory, her father had finally brought both the houses together, North and South were at peace. But that is for another tale, perhaps I may tell one day. But back on track, her husband on the other time was short and short tempered, his messy and often greasy brown hair was unflattering, his chubby cheeks would bulge out from his gluttonous ways and he often weighed himself down with the armour of a warrior, large suits of gleaming armour forged in Dragon’s flames from Ore mined from the mountains that formed the walls of Dream Valley. A fine suit of armour that could stop a claymore slash or a unicorns horn, a suit that would be fine for any warrior, like Gregory’s Father, Handan but he was gone, a Pegasus had swooped down and dragged the brave, but foolish King from his saddle and he was never seen again, this cost the human’s the battle of Canterlot and the entire conflict, never for ten years since then have Human’s and The Equestrian inhabitants made official contact.
There was of course the unofficial, traders that would come and go, making their way through the border, slipping past his majesty’s border guards and the Equestrian Royal Infantry to be able to make contact with suppliers beyond the border, it was risky but anything that was not of the infertile land of man was of tremendous value, the clean spring water, the fine fabrics and, by Jove the food. Apples appealed to common folk the most. Those grown within’ the borders of Equestria, they could make a man cry with their sweet taste and delicious texture. But the relationship between man’s four legged foes has always been a difficult one, often the two would clash in small conflicts. Due to Human Expansionism, Pony naivety or general social tension between the two, peace had long been wanted, especially with such an elegant, loving and caring race. But the thought of peace between the two was shattered, as Handan, King of Men grew mad.
He was a fine man, brave, true and loyal. Who cared for his people, loved his people and loved people of all peoples. Pony, griffin, dragon, all were equal in his eye, the king throughout his sixty years on the God’s earth were that of trying to seal the social divide between humans and their co-existences. But the jolly King was stopped in his tracks, not by a blade nor arrow, nor magic nor that of a woman. But that of disease, rot of the brain. Handan the True, King of Men had become Handan the Mad, he without warning would raise taxes, this would cause peasants to lose land, people began to starve, farms were left abandoned as people fled to the Domain’s hold capitols, that of Dragon’s Bend, Queen’s Vale, Pykeweed and even the Kingdom’s capital itself, Hornwood Keep. With the cities filled with that of refugees from the dying country side, the mad king did what he believed was necessary, to expand the borders south into the peaceful land of Equestria, this is where the Mad King would meet his fate, this is where the young Sergeant at Arms, son of Glensmane Windermere of house Windermere would prove himself beyond the rank and file, and be entrusted with the duty of Vanguard to his Majesty, the ruler of men.
Into the unknown they marched, unwillingly, only the fanatic believed it was right to war a race so loving, simply due to the whim of a mad man, but the men were duty bound and they believed it best for their country, with the right amount of indoctrination that is, Dream Valley would be the first and last battle of the short war, Dream Valley to the ponies that dwelled in the southern lands of Canterlot, but was known as Rein’s Glade and the supposed death of Handan, and the defeat of 50’000 men at the hands of a race seen less of that in might than those upon two legs.
It was a chilly morning as the camp broke, the Banner men of his Majesty Silverbeard awoke the troops, docile from sleep with the thundering of trumpets that blasted their tune throughout the glade, within minutes the tents collapsed and arms were brought to sheath as the clock struck that of around 10 and they sallied forth, as they passed through the glade things became more pleasant, the air became cleaner and pleasant to breath, the temperature was nothing more than a cool breath, which allowed the men to march with little more ease, their steal suits not baking the inhabitants.
Then from the sky were to be the men’s demise, swooping down were the Pegasus Airborne Regiments, the leading trooper that appeared to be that of many colours let out a blast of multi-colours, a stunning, beautiful yet intimidating spectacle, Roderick dropped the banner into the dirt, not caring for pity cloth as his king’s life was now on the line, he was mad yes but the men still had love for him, maybe there was still hope. He raised his board shield, wooden and strong with the unicorn of house Windermere proudly displayed on the front, white in front of a black and red background, much like his house’s banner.
There were too many to count, their hooves wielded that of golden lances, helms that gleamed in the sun and distorted the sight of the King’s Crossbow’s, so aiming was not so easy, then there was their powers that the human's feared, stories foretold of how the ancient men used to appease the ponies, the griffins, the dragons, they feared them. Like one would fear a god.
One swooped down, coming for the king, lance lowered, a silver tip that would pierce even the truest of hearts barrelled towards the king, as the men surrounding braced their own bodies for impact from the incoming assault Roderick did the stupid, but right thing. Without drawing his blade he raced across a regiment of crossbow men, some firing off into the incoming squadron of fanatic flying fiends. Some attempting to burry into the earth out of their hearts sinking at the sight of such magnificent, awe inspiring beauty of their imminent demise. Roderick leaped, drawing up his heavy board shield he dove flung his body across his king, barely reaching the height of his majesties Stallion, taking the blunt force of the foes shafted blade. The top of the shield shattered, sending wooden chunks flinging across the ranks, clattering against armour, the Pegasus itself was flung off balance, spiralling beyond the ranks of the King’s Crossbows and amongst the Spear Militias, the crash and clanking of armour had been followed by a screech and thrusting, twisting of spears.
In pain Roderick lay on the gentle grass, around him the battle commenced, men dropped and fled, many dropped and died from the aerial assault, Roderick finally stood, only to turn and face an empty saddle, he gazed up to a yell as the once mighty king was flown off, ripped from his saddle with the tear of leather and the twisting of his steel boots, his Silverbeard floated with a strange elegance in the wind. His fading figure finally disappeared, to a somewhat sad but accepting feeling from Roderick; he would finally be amongst the ancestors and the Gods. And perhaps they could cure his madness.
Roderick turned to face the Valley’s gentle sloping sides, upon it where Earth Ponies, prepared with blade, with spear, with horn and their ancient arts of Magic to rain destruction upon the primitive men, Roderick glanced across to a fallen banner man, golden horn around his waist, and a golden lance in his chest. He quickly dashed across, tripping over the fallen equipment and fallen comrades, he fell flat on his chest, the brunt of the ground taken by his breast plate, he gripped the horn firmly in his hands, leaning his head up he wailed on the thing, the valley full of panicking men back, back to their homes and family where they once came. The Equestrian’s mercy was upon the fleeing 20’000.
Kingless, and defeated the army returned, led by the King’s brother Martin, he would now be the ruler, but he forfeited the crown with a little persuasion from the king’s council on behalf of his infertility, to the King’s son Gregory. At the moment too young to take the crown, the council would rule for the few years to come, until the future came became of age at around twelve.
But Martin was a wise man, and knew a brave man when he had witnessed one, he saw Roderick’s vain attempt at saving Handan’s life, his valour and dedication to duty was that of what the men around him lacked, and the grief stricken brother who could not stand up for himself stood up for young Roderick, commending House Windermere for his actions. Roderick’s father was proud of his son; he was a bastard of a kitchen whore. But he was his son, and he in private wrote to him from the Windermere’s domain in Castle Red Rock, his wife despised the dark haired son, who was no son of hers, and often detested how her husband would write to him more frequently to their other children who were spread doing their house duties throughout the kingdom. Roderick’s father often reminded his son how he was sorry to send his son so far south to join the King’s army in the first place, Roderick forgave him, understanding his father’s predicament, and how his desire for a single kitchen wench could drive the family apart. This commendation not only brought renown to the Windermere household and name, but also to Roderick, within two years of the incident he was leading the Vanguard, the King’s finest, first in to the heat of battle, and the last to leave, to return wielding their blades or upon their shields.
So that is things up to now, Ten years passed of the King’s Vanguard growing in numbers with Roderick Windermere at the helm of it, training Gregory’s forces for all threats foreign and domestic, Roderick often thinks back to his short time in Equestria, and often longed to return to learn of the creatures that have influenced his people for eons, but he knew with a vengeful king on the throne this would not be possible.
But nothing is impossible, in this land, a land where the arts of magic are common as dirt, where powerful beings roam the land, worshipped and feared.