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// 1830 17/09/1017 
// Story: The Red Vengeance 
// by KaiserVanBeackmarck 
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Half an hour later, I was waiting under the Greifswagen Industries HQ for the signal we needed, an armed force of thirty thousand griffs behind me, the remains of the Imperial Panzerkorps and Engineerkorps, whoever could run a tank well. I could feel the tension in the air. Nogriff spoke, but it was there. We were outnumbered heavily. When they had fought us in the streets the first time, they had used over 2 million ponies to charge our lines, and they could have brought reinforcements since then. They had the advantage of the entire Heavenly Airforce behind them alongside the entire RIVERLANDS. But we had a knowledge of every back street and pass in this town, a memory of how to get around without using the main roads. Yet it was a massive chance. These events almost always failed. The Republican uprising in Aquilea had been stamped out by the Discret family easily, the Olenian Freedom Army had been crushed within hours, and Rosewing and Sunglider’s bandit uprising was halted in its tracks by Alex Kemesari. We could just end a footnote in the Historica Griffonia, as another failed stand of a horde of madgriffs, torn asunder by the new Chosen of Boreas. A buzzing on the radio disagreed. I grabbed the receiver and said, “Squad A primed, commander.” 

Over the static, I heard Ebonwing grunt and call, “Orright, Otto, ya got permission. Give ‘em hell fer me.” 

I saluted and yelled, “TEN HUT GRIFFONS, WE MOVIN OUT NOW! SHOW THEM PONES WHY WE SCOURGED THEM IN THE CRUSADES! SHOW THEM THE GRIFFONIAN FURY!” I evoked a resounding roar from the horde, a good sign of a blood hungry mob. I spread my wings and shot out through the maintenance shaft. And boy, did I pick a bad time. I ploughed straight into a group of riverpony guards, and they were shocked. Before they could speak, I had my gun revving up and a storm of lead ripping them to pieces. I tore though my belt until they were entirely minced before me before calling, “CLEAR!” Hearing my signal, the rest of the soldiers clambered out the shaft, Wilhelm at the head. Spreading out like water in a pot, they scattered to assert dominance over the street front while most entered the Greifswagen Industrial to scrounge whatever they could get. I stayed outside, to make sure noponies could sneak upon us. Suddenly, machine gun blasts disturbed the peace, split by Hertzlander war cries. We’d engaged the foe successfully. Now we just had to finish the blow. Suddenly, Wilhelm yelled, “Oh holy BOREAS LOOK AT THIS!” 

I called back, “What is it?”

He responded, “SO. MANY. TANKS!” 
I smiled in joy. We had the big guns now. 
A few moments later, we had our panzers up and running again, hundreds of them, older models and experimental panzers side by side, even the bashed up rust bucket Grover VI had crashed all those years ago. We were ready. 

I climbed atop one of the heavy tanks and pointed forwards, and screamed, “NOW FIGHT!” 

And ten thousand panzers reared up for war. Immediately, that caused far too much unwanted attention. A corp of ponies rounded the corner, rifles at the ready, but they did not expect the return of the Imperial armoured corps. Immediately and hopelessly, they opened fire on us. And so three of ours fired back, devouring them in a corona of flame. I heard the exhilaration of being inside a panzer from so many of the corps. Now we had to ride to Grover V Station to aid Group B, at the end of the Kaiserstraße and our main road. I pointed and commanded, “ON TO GROVER V STATION!”  The moment we rounded the corner, we realised our shells had not gone unnoticed. A platoon of ponies had prepared a motorised anti tank gun and was ready for our advance. Instantly, the shell inside was catapulted straight down the line towards us. I had enough time to jump as the shell made contact with the tank I had been atop. Immediately, all the griffons inside were incinerated by the fury of the blast. I hit the cobbles hard, part of my wing snapping and my leg getting slashed by the shards of a destroyed window. Staggering to my claws, I hefted my gun to fire, but was met by a ready barrage of lead from a machine gun beside the anti tank gun. Swearing, I ducked around the corner to out wait them. The moment the gunners changed their angle of fire, I leaped out, gun spaying death at their entrenchment. I saw three of their gunners get torn by my barrage, falling with crimson rupturing from their heads, and more skinned and marked by them. My blast a distraction, one of the tanks used it to blast their big gun to annihilate it. I watched as burning, screaming ponies scattered from the fortifications, feeling cold joy as they stopped running, the flames cutting their petty screams short. Schadenfreule, the Cloudburians called this joy of a foe’s demise. Now I leaped atop the battered tank Grover crashed, and called, “ADVANCE!” Once more, we charged on, following the Äußerestraße towards the Station. Then I heard the noise we dreaded, the sound of roaring engines that only fighters or bombers had. I said, “Unknown aircraft approaching griffs, be on guard.” Then they passed over the buildings and we saw what we feared. The Lake City insignia on the underside. They opened fire on our brigade, none of us bringing anything to fend them off. So I decided to do what would carve my name as one of history’s most insane griffons. 

Spreading my wings, I leaped up. Since they flew at such low altitude, it took only two flaps to launch me to their height. The lead fighter had little time to gasp as I landed on his windshield, minigun revved up. Instantly, his rear gunner tried to move against me, but I had my gun firing already. The pilot went down fast, bullets tearing him apart, followed by the gunner. Now I stood further up as the plane began to dive without a pilot, aiming at the other pilots’ proppelers. They all fired at me, and it was a race between lead. Mine began to impact first, causing the bomber to explode and dive towards the buildings. Then two flanking fighters took the storm to the front, erupting in flames. Then it was my turn to face the onslaught. I ducked, to minimize the number of bullets that collided with me. They all pinged overhead, some glancing off the spiked helmet and one clipping shoulder. Standing up, I lept of the failing plane, landing on a several story house to observe the carnage around the city. The fighter battle hadn’t taken me very far, I could still see the Äußerestraße where Wilhelm was leading the tanks around towards the besieged station. I then turned towards the hill where the Palace of Griffinheim stood. All around it, was carnage. Apparently not every team focused on seizing the airport or station, or other partisans had seen a battle and decided to fling themselves into the fray. The manors lining the Kaiserstraße were aflame, and planes were arcing slowly around the hill, occasionally bursting volleys of gunfire on unfortunate soldiers below. Columns of smoke rose all over town, and some actual fires leaped across building roofs in some spots. The forces upon the Griffking had blasted a bridge to pieces and I could see forces converging on another one. Tanks had been dispatched from the central to attempt to force our partisans from the center of town, but from the specks running to and fro, I could assume they were doing pathetically. Now I decided to lead the main goal, bringing down the temple of Boreas on Heavenly Snow. I leaped down, and stupidly landed on another Lake City group. They took far too little time to notice me, meaning I couldn’t ready my gun. So I went to plan B. “It’s the one who nearly killed Westerly! The KNIGHT!” The captain screamed, waving his hoof at me. I drew a greatsword, freshly sharpened and readied it. The captain stifled a laugh and snickered, “A SWORD!? What’s he gonna do against guns? POKE-” Suddenly, his head rolled off his neck, a clean split through his neck as I lowered my sword. They stood there in shock for a moment before opening fire on me. 

I thought, “Sword-fighting, don’t fail me now.” I felt bullets rip my shoulder and chest, each accompanied with a flare of pain. But the adrenaline coursing though my body blunted the agony as I swung. The first hack cut a deep hack through a young mare’s chest, killing him instantly. Another bullet pierced my leg, causing me to tip. “Shit.” I thought as I hit the ground hard, and the ponies advanced for the kill. But I never was going to die without a fight. Again, I lashed towards them, cutting two hooves off and skinning a third. Then a lucky snipe hit me, zooming under my helmet and straight into my left eye. I had enough time to utter, “Ah. No.” before the pain hit me. It slammed into me like a heavy tank, causing me to spasm and wracking my good eye. Carving on through the blindness, I lashed out at everything that I could vaguely see with my good eye. Everything was doused in red, dark crimson blotches marking the presence of something else. As I swung and slashed, shape after shape collapsed, until another something entered and shot the further away ones dead. 

As my adrenaline burned away, I heard a famillar voice, that of Ebonwing. “Shit, he’s taken a nasty one to the eye! Medic, MEDIC!”