A heavy morning fog hung over the northern reaches of Equestrian territory, rolling down from the mountains that marked the frontier and washing over the walls of the Equestrian army’s main encampment. The army had made camp several miles outside the walls of the old fortress city of Stalliongrad on the bank of the Flower River, laying down their neat rows of tents and building fortifications on the outer perimeter. They weren’t expecting any action, or if they were, they were expecting it to be targeted towards the city itself and not at them.
It was still at least an hour before a bugler would sound the reveille to awaken the camp, but the first signs of activity were already stirring. The camp cooks were hard at work preparing the morning meals for the 6000 soldiers, and sentries were doing their rounds up and down the rows of tents and along the perimeter.
The camp’s outer defenses consisted of a makeshift palisade wall with a trench on the outside. It wouldn’t stand up to any serious attack, but it would make a crossing more difficult and would buy the army time to form up in case of a surprise. Two Equestrian privates walked slowly along the inside of the wall, their armor glistening with the first drops of morning dew as they trotted along the same patrol route they had been following for most of the night.
“So, do you really think they’ll attack us?” One, Silver Dawn, said shuffling his crossbow from one shoulder to another.
“Nah.” The second one, Line Breaker, said. “It’s all just bluster and politics. We’ll be here for a week or so then ordered back home.” The two stallions had known each other since their first days in the military academy. They had trained together, been shouted at by drill instructors together, and had served together in different units for quite some time. They were practically inseperable.
A soft thud from somewhere outside the walls caused them both to stop and glance at each other. They listened carefully, but all they could hear was the usual night sounds of insects and the soft burbling of the Flower River nearby. Silver nodded his head towards the wall and Line nodded back, slowly starting to move towards it with his spear in hoof. He slowly made his way up the dirt mound on the inside of the wall to peer over while his comrade covered him with the bow.
He peeked over the top of the wall and downwards into the ditch below. “There’s nothing…” He didn’t get to finish the sentence. An armoured paw slammed down on the top of his helmet, pushing his head downwards straight onto one of the spiked points of the palisade. It penetrated up through his chin and went straight into his brain. He was dead instantly and slumped in place, dropping his spear. Silver tried to open his mouth to both raise the alarm and cry out in fear and anguish at the sudden and brutal loss of his close friend but he was suddenly grabbed from behind. His mouth was covered by a claw and something sharp drove into his side, just below his foreleg and rupturing his heart before twisting roughly. He twitched and squirmed for a few moments, giving muffled sounds as he felt blood fill his throat, then his vision finally faded to black and he fell still.
The griffon who had just murdered the sentry let him fall and clicked his beak twice. Five more griffons ascended over the wall on silent wings and landed nearby. The two bodies were quickly dumped over the wall to hide them and the griffons separated in pairs to conduct their missions. Two headed towards the artillery batteries, two towards the rows of tents, and two more towards the command tents near the middle of the camp.
The two that headed for the artillery found the guns divided into two batteries, each guarded by two sentries and containing five guns. Three heavy 105s, and two of the lighter muzzle loading six pounders. The ammunition was stored in crates underneath tarpaulins a short distance away. Rather than target the guns themselves, which would be tricky, the griffons headed for the ammunition storage, easily slipping past the sentries as they marched back and forth. They targeted the crates of six pounder ammunition, especially those that contained the volatile powder used to load them, laying small explosive charges between the crates and rigging them to a rudimentary timing device. It would only take one to detonate to set off a chain reaction.
The two griffons that had been dispatched towards the command sector of the camp quickly found that their task would be the most difficult. The number of sentries increased exponentially as they crept deeper, forcing them to stay in the shadows, darting between the rows of tents and quickly concealing themselves whenever the light from a sentry’s lantern came towards them. But still they persisted. Getting near the commanders tents was almost impossible due to the number of guards, but the officer’s tents would suffice. They moved quickly from tent to tent, laying their traps.
The two remaining griffons had an easier task as sentries were fewer in the outer reaches of the camp. They moved through the tents, one laying devices, the other unfurling something behind them as they worked their way back to their initial entry point.
The six griffons regrouped on the edge of the camp and the leader nodded. He crouched down to the end of the fuse he had just laid and carefully lit it, sending it sizzling out across the camp. In one of the rows of tents, a sentry paused as he saw what looked like a small fizzling light coming towards him along the ground. He cocked his head as he watched it get closer. It almost looked like… And then it whizzed between his hooves and past him. He looked backwards through his legs and saw it separate into dozens of smaller sparkling lights that headed in every direction, headed for the tents. It was a fuse!
The fuse wire had been linked to dozens of small incendiary explosives that had been carefully laid outside each tent. Small popping sounds echoed across the camp, and suddenly, dozens of tents were on fire, quickly spreading through the encampment. The sentry cried out a warning along with a shout of fire, but it was already being taken up by dozen of voices. Ponies began to rush out of the burning tents, some with smoldering fur and without any armour or weapons. A roar went up from the edge of the camp, overwhelming even the crackling of the fire and suddenly dozens of shapes came pouring over the walls. It was a full scale attack.
The alarm was sounded again, this time even more frantically as soldiers across the camp realized that they were under attack. Ponies poured out of their tents, most struggling to get their armour on and work out where to form up with their companies. There were screams and shouting from the officers tent area as pony officers armed and attempted to get to their companies only to find that their tent flaps had been sealed together, trapping them inside as fire continued to consume that area of the camp. Some managed to cut themselves free, their fur on fire as they flailed and rolled about on the ground while other ponies fought to put them out.
Artillery crews rushed to man their guns. There was a deafening explosion and a shock wave that flattened tents and threw many ponies to the ground. The artillery positions had exploded, raining fire and shrapnel down across the camp. 105 shells began to cook off inside their boxes and explode, creating a deafening roll of continuous thunder that echoed across the camp.
By this point some elements of the army had already started to flee, leaping over the rear walls of the camp and galloping back towards Stalliongrad where the alarm had also been sounded. Griffon shock troops were pouring through the camp, slaughtering half armoured ponies as they tried to get into their gear or flee, but a few courageous pony officers had managed to rally a few hundred ponies and form a disorganized but workable line of defense. Soldiers from all six line companies and a few unicorns from the mage company had pulled together and formed a phalanx of spears while crossbow ponies rallied behind them and began to pour arrows over the wall and into the approaching griffons. But strangely, the griffons seemed content to hold their positions on the edge of the camp, killing off any stragglers who hadn’t managed to get organized and pouring fire back at the pony phalanx. That wasn’t like griffons. The griffons were natural melee fighters and the fact that they were keeping their distance rather than closing and using their superior size and strength was concerning to any officer worth their salt.
Then the rain started. Artillery shells began to pour into the camp from positions several miles away. Griffon artillery had set themselves up in the foothills below the mountains and were now raining shells into the camp. Body parts were sent flying as shells crashed into the pony lines, tearing ragged holes that no one was willing to attempt to refill. The line broke and a bugler somewhere sounded the retreat.
The sun rose on a disaster. Hundreds of ponies streamed out of the camp back towards Stalliongrad as thick black smoke rose into the sky from hundreds of burning tents. Artillery rounds continued to explode inside the camp, mostly pony 105s cooking off in the heat from the fires. Blood ran in rivers between the lines of burning tents and bodies, pooling in shell holes and flowing into the Flower River, so much so that for years after the battle it was said that the water tasted metallic.
On a distant hilltop the griffon general Crownbeak looked down on the scene with a spyglass with the rest of his command. “These Equestrians are weak. We shall be in Canterlot within the month, thought I doubt it will be an honorable victory.” He pointed towards the camp. “Have the camp searched for survivors. The mud ponies and flyers are to be sent to the camps. The unicorns go to the capital.”
On a cloud high above the battle the Pegasus lancer corp had been watching the destruction below. They had fully mobilized, but were unable to intervene before the line had broken, so rather than commit to a lost battle, they held back, watching as the remnants of their army fled. Their commander looked back towards a messenger. “Send word to Canterlot. We have been attacked. The army has been routed and is falling back towards Stalliongrad. Pegasus lancers will return to Canterlot.” The messenger nodded and shot off the cloud, racing southwards as the rising smoke cast a dull yellow glow from the rising sun across the scene of destruction.
Krous was awakened from a quiet sleep by a familiar sound. The dull thuds of heavy guns firing and the crack of explosions in the distance. It was a sound that all of the humans were more than familiar with. Already they were scrambling to get up on deck. Krous swung himself out of his bunk in the airship’s officer’s quarters and began to pull on his boots.
On the other side of the room, Princess Luna had also been awakened. “What is that?” She asked. She made an attempt to roll off her bunk but hissed as she irritated her bandaged broken leg.
“It’s artillery.” Krous said. “I’m going to find out what is going on now. Remain here your highness.” He finished lacing up his boots and stood, jogging down the airship’s central corridor and climbing a set of stairs to the main deck. The rest of the squad had already crowded the rail and were looking off into the distance. Krous moved to join them and produced his binoculars to scan the horizon. He couldn’t make out anything in detail, only that a large area in the distance seemed to be on fire, and large black smoke cloud was rising into the sky, illuminated by the first rays of the early morning sun.
He looked up towards the helm where Cruiser stood. He was also looking in the direction of the smoke and checking his map. “What’s over there?” He called up.
Cruiser took a moment to answer. “Stalliongrad.” He said. “Does this mean what I think it means?”
Krous nodded. “Yes, the griffons have made the opening move.” He stepped back from the rail. “Can we get a message to Canterlot from here?”
Cruiser checked the map again. “Yes, just.” He stepped away from the helm and came back with a scroll. “What do you want to send?” He opened it and took a quill from the corner of his chart table.
“Mission accomplished.” Krous began. “Princess safe. Enemy advancing. Approximate numbers, 80-100 thousand. Equestrian military likely overrun.”
“Sir! Over there!” Someone called out, pointing towards the sky in the distance.
Krous looked and saw a formation of dots coming towards them. A lot of dots. “What is that?” He asked.
Cruiser picked up a spyglass and peered over towards the approaching formation, looking at it for a few moments before responding. “They’re ours. Pegasi. I’d say a full regiments worth. They’re coming this way.”
The formation spread into a wide arc and moved in to surround the airship on all sides, many aiming crossbows and other weapons at the ship and crew. From amongst their ranks a single Pegasus flapped forwards to within speaking distance. “I am Captain Wind Feather of the Equestrian Army. I order you to identify yourself.”
Cruiser picked up a bullhorn from beneath his control console and pointed it over at him. “This is the Equestrian airship Celestial Dawn. We are carrying Princess Luna on board. Stand down.”
Wind Feather flapped closer before setting down on the deck. “Forgive me if I am unconvinced.” He said.
“It is quite true.” A voice came from towards the bow of the airship. Princess Luna had managed to hobble her way up onto the deck. She was a mess. Her horn was only just starting to regrow, bruises showed on her body and although they had made an attempt to clean her properly she was still quite dirty, but there was no mistaking Princess Luna. “At ease Captain Wind Feather. What news from the army?”
Wind Feather, who had immediately snapped to attention on seeing the princess quickly stood at ease. “Your highness.” He said. “Poor news I fear. The griffons attacked before dawn this morning. They stormed our defenses and caught most of the army asleep. It was a massacre. Most of the remaining military was falling back towards Stalliongrad. I estimate they have less than 55% combat strength left.”
“And what of your unit?” Luna asked. “You seem to have not taken many casualties.”
Feather nodded. “Yes your highness. As per standard protocol, the Pegasi lancers were encamped in the clouds above the main encampment. The battle was over in less than five minutes, and committing my ponies would have been a waste of lives that are better used elsewhere.”
Luna nodded, seeming to accept the explanation, but the situation was grim. An army of almost 100 000 griffons was moving into Equestria and the only organized military force in their way had been smashed in less than five minutes. “We must return to Canterlot, immediately.” She said. “I must confer with my sister. Drastic action will need to be taken if we are to hold Equestria.” She looked to Feather. “Will you escort us back to the Capital?”
Feather nodded. “Yes your highness. We will create a wind to carry us there even more swiftly.” He saluted and took off to rearrange his company.
So began day one of the Griffo-Equestrian war.