All across the overgrown litter box that was the Equestrian-Griffonia (but not neutral Griffonstone, which merely bordered the area) theater of war, untold thousands of brave ponies did their patriotic duty; living, fighting, and, sometimes, dying for the Equestrian cause. Despite the generally pathetic reputation of the bravery of average pony, the conscripts served with all the conviction and daring their (remaining) Princesses could hope for, proving, once and for all, that even those not blessed with importance and heroism by fate could still be as heroic as those six famous mares, the indomitable Elements of Harmony, by gritting their teeth and doing their jobs.
Which is ironic, because they were here too, and they were fucking terrible at it.
“Hey egghead!” Rainbow Dash, with an impressively accurate throw, doinked an empty ration can of her officer’s helmet, narrowly missing the notebook stuck in the webbing.
Second Lieutenant Twilight Sparkle, after a pause, raised the brim of her helmet, looking up at the pegasus, who was currently resting a casual elbow on a pole-mounted signal light suspended a good twenty feet above the gun pit as per her duties as lookout. “I’m sorry corporal, did you want to ask your lieutenant something?”
“Nah, definitely not, just trying to see if the army’s new ‘dipshit-seeking cans’ are working.” Rainbow Dash gave a mock salute. “Glad to see our boys back home got them working just fine!”
“Oh. Wonderful news.” Twilight’s magic enveloped the can, shooting It back at her assailant with remarkable velocity. “Oh, would you look at that, it’s found a new target!”
Rainbow Dash, eyes shooting wide, ducked out of the way of the approaching can, dodging by a hair’s breadth. “Ah, jeez, Twi, are you trying to take my head off or something?”
“Not yet.” The can came back in a wide arc, returning to a position near the unicorn’s head, spinning menacingly. “But speak to me like that again and I’ll make sure the sharp side goes directly into your jugular.”
“Okay, godsdamn, fine, whatever.” Rainbow Dash theatrically cleared her throat. “Hark! Noble officer, ma’am, may I perchance ask you a question, ma’am?”
“You may, corporal.” Twilight “fwip’d” the can into the ground, smug in victory.
“Great, yeah, anyway, what I was going to ask was if you’ve gotten any more letters from your brother.”
“… I did, yes,” replied Twilight, after a moment of confusion. “Why do you care, exactly?”
“Oh, great, nice to hear.” Rainbow Dash rubbed her forehooves together in glee. “He put any pictures in there? Maybe him in uniform, or a suit, or something like that?”
“Uh, maybe?” She pulled out the letter, brow furrowed in puzzlement. “I think – yeah, there’s one in here. Some kind of fundraiser event he went to with High Warden Cadence.” A photograph levitated out of the envelope. “It’s nice enough, I guess. It’s got him in his old uniform.”
The gun pit filled with sounds of satisfied mares. Applejack punctuated with a hoof-pump.
“Hell yeah, those are the best ones!” Rainbow Dash did a contented loop. “And it’s about fuckin’ time too, the other ones were getting stale.”
“Stale?” Twilight shook her head. “What do you mean, stale? And why do you all apparently care so much about–”
A moment of realization. A terrible moment of realization, as Twilight suddenly realized why the pictures her brother sent her kept ending up missing, and why her “friends” cared so much about her letters from home, and why she found one of them in a temporary out-house.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Twilight wheeled around, eyes flaring and horn burning. “Are you sick fucks using my brother as – as – as masturbatory material?”
“Uh, duh!” Undaunted, Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Where else do you think those pictures were going?”
“I don’t know!” Twilight exclaimed. “Carried away by the wind or something! Definitely not into the hooves of you all as you buff muff! Seriously, I thought we were friends!”
“We are friends, Twi.” Rainbow Dash chuckled. “It’s just that our friend has an incredibly hot brother and none of us have seen a stallion in months.” She shrugged. “What can I say? Girls have needs, and what we all need is your stud-muffin hunk of a sibling.”
“Ugh, gross, stop talking about him like that!” Twilight snorted in anger. “Seriously you guys? All of you?”
Applejack, from around an oversized flask, her helmet adorned with five more flasks in the webbing: “Sure – hic – do.”
Pinkie, straight pink hair flowing from under a helmet spray-painted with a stencil of grayscale balloons, looking up from her state-issued propaganda rag. “On occasion, when the grim determination of eliminating our foes fades into a carnal need.”
Fluttershy, barely audible from the far side of the gun-pit, netting full of leaves, not looking up from the her work on delicate rifle-stock scrimshaw: “Um, if necessary.”
“Come on, really?” Twilight shoved the letter back into her haversack, fastening it tightly. “Great. Glad to know my friends are all completely fucking depraved. Really nice.”
“Aw, don’t take it personal-like, Twilight,” Applejack said, staggering slightly. “They do it with mine too. Reckon I got used to it after a while.”
“Yeah, well, your brother isn’t a godsdamn prince, either,” Twilight shot back. “He has a reputation. And he’s married, too!” She turned to the final member of the crew. “At least one of you all isn’t part of all this degeneracy.”
“What, Rarity? Hah!” Rainbow Dash snorted a laugh. “Nah, she probably just can’t hear you. Just throw something at her if you want to know.”
As it turned out, Rainbow Dash was correct; Rarity’s refusal to wear the government provided hearing protectors in favor of “fashionable” woolen earmuffs meant she didn’t really hear anything outside of an omnipresent “EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.”
As recommended, Twilight chucked an empty tin of handgun ammunition at Rarity’s blue-diamond adorned helmet, landing squarely in the forehead section with a resounding “ping!”
Now alerted, Rarity lowered her drawing pad, looking out from under the brim of her helmet with a look of annoyance. “Yes, darling?”
“Rar – ahem, RARITY,” Twilight shouted, as was necessary when addressing her fellow unicorn, “RARITY, ARE YOU ALSO USING PICTURES OF MY BROTHER TO GET OFF?”
“Pictures? Certainly not. Don’t be crude,” Rarity scoffed. “A lady does not require such base materials–”
Twilight breathed a sigh of relief.
“–as pictures for that.” She chuckled lightly. “No, all she needs is her imagination.” A sultry smirk. “And memory.”
“Oh, thank Cel – HEY WAIT A MINUTE!” Twilight roared. “MEMORY? RARITY, DID YOU F–”
“– Hey! Hey! Everyone shut the fuck up, we’ve got code flashes!” Rainbow Dash shot into the air, flipping down a pair of binoculars attached to her helmet. “Twilight, stop yelling at the idiot and get your charts out!”
Twilight hurriedly turned back from the smug face of her traitorous friend, re-opening her haversack and pulling out a book of maps and range tables. “Oh, shit, hang on a second–”
“I can’t wait dipshit, it’s their signal!” Rainbow Dash removed a notebook from her belt, writing in the signaled command as she mentally decoded the Horse Code. “It – it’s a fire mission for Gun 22, phew, we’re good.”
“Dash you moron, we’re Gun 22.” Twilight shouted up.
“Oh shit, we are Gun 22!” Rainbow Dash, who had still transcribed the rest of the signal, read through the rest of the transmission. “Okay, uh, alright–”
“Hurry up, Dash!”
“–I’m getting there!” Rainbow Dash flipped her helmet-mounted binoculars back up, folding her notebook and preparing to throw it down. “Alright, I’ve got it. Catch!”
Twilight nodded, catching the notebook in her field and scanning through the first page. “Uhhhhh, okay!” She pointed at Rarity. “Rarity, take three high-ex shells and nine powder charges off the cart!”
Rarity did nothing, staring ahead contentedly.
Twilight face-hooved. Oh, right. “RARITY!”
Rarity shot to attention.
“THREE HIGH-EX. NINE POWDER BAGS.” Twilight pointed at each group of munitions in turn for emphasis. “THREE. NINE.”
Rarity continued to stare, head cocked slightly in confusion.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake…” Twilight mashed her forehoof into her face, rolling back and forth.
Rarity continued trying to puzzle her way through Twilight’s orders. Pete? What did ‘Pete’ have to do with artillery shell – Oh! Rarity’s eyes, having read Twilight’s lips, shot open with understanding. “Oh! Sorry dear, you really must speak up.” She chuckled. “And I must commend you on your newfound understanding of slang, dear, very impressive. I’ll get right to it.”
“Uh,” Twilight furrowed her brow, unaware of any slang she had used. “Okay, I guess?” She turned to the rest of the members of the crew, missing Rarity pulling three shells marked with white bands out of the shell cart and pulling a pair of maps out of her bag. “The rest of you, get to work! I’ve got to finish up this calculation.”
“Um, Twilight?” said Fluttershy, who had noticed the shell’s coloration. “I think, um, Rarity might have–”
“Hoooo-wee!” Applejack interrupted, tossing her now-empty container out of the gun pit. “Finally, some doggone action!”
“I must agree,” said Pinkie, putting down her magazine. “The thought of once again contributing to the annihilation of our enemies is almost–” a shudder “–basal in pleasure.”
“Ah, damnit, you always do that!” Applejack recoiled in disgust. “And here I was almost enjoying myself!”
“Do what?” Pinkie rolled the first of the shells Rarity fetched behind the breech. “I don’t follow.”
“Ya, uh, just, uh–” Applejack shook her head “You just make it real damn weird every time.”
“Weird?” Pinkie locked eyes with Applejack. “What’s weird about wishing for the enormously painful and slow demise of our mortal enemies, Applejack?”
“No, nah, not that, ‘cuz that’s fine or whatever.” Applejack pointed a shaky hoof. “It’s all the damn rest of it. It’s ain’t normal.”
“What isn’t, Friend under the Almighty Sun Applejack?” Pinkie shot back accusingly. “Did you not just say it was fine? Where is the contention, then?”
“Ya get all creepy every time!” Applejack replied. “You start moaning and talking about ‘carnal thrills’ and all that when we start shooting, and it’s just plain ol’ weird!”
“Watch your tongue!” Pinkie pointed a forehoof back, solar tattoos in stark yellow peeking out from her sleeve-cuff. “How dare you insult me based on my dedication to the cause!”
“There’s dedication, and then there’s whatever the sam-hill you’re doing, Pinkie!” Applejack shook her head. “T’ain’t normal to start positively leaking thinking ‘bout high-explosive or whatnot!”
“YOU DON’T KNOW!” Pinkie shouted back, voice cracking. “You weren’t there! I had Her Departed Majesty’s brains on my face!” She stomped a forehoof. “The only thing that takes away the agony of grief is the thrill of slaughter.”
“But that just don’t mean that you have–”
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT,” yelled Twilight, more as a statement of fact than anything. “Will you two PLEASE shut the FUCK UP for one goddamn minute while I do the REALLY FUCKING IMPORTANT math so we don’t shoot our own dudes like last time?”
“But she’s not dedicated–”
“But she’s weird and keeps getting horny because–”
“Hey! Let’s play a new game!” Twilight’s horn lit, unbuttoning her service revolver’s holster and drawing the piece into the air. “Who wants to find out if Twilight can avoid a courts-martial for shooting one of you dumbfucks?”
Both mares stood stock still, frozen mid-argument.
Twilight sighed theatrically. “No takers! That’s too bad. I haven’t gotten a chance to shoot this yet.”
Pinkie coughed once. “Er, respectfully, Lieutenant, I–”
Twilight cocked the hammer back on the pistol.
Pinkie shrank away slightly. “…Um, sorry.”
“That’s what I thought.” Twilight let the hammer down, then reholstered her pistol. “Now, uh, where was I?”
“The, um, math?” asked Fluttershy helpfully, peeking from around a pile of sandbags. Twilight had probably not been including her as one of her “dumbfucks,” but Fluttershy had seen Twilight’s marksmareship scores. They weren’t pretty.
“Oh, right! Duh!” Twilight knocked a hoof into her helmet. “Can’t forget math!” She peered at her notebook, eyes squinting. “Hey, Dash, is this a four or a nine in the second coordinate?”
“Nine, definitely!” shouted Rainbow Dash from a cloud above.
“Are you sure?” Twilight squinted a little harder. “Because I think I see a tail on it, and that usually means it’s a four with you.”
“No, yeah, def a nine. I remember from the order.”
Twilight, after a moment of thought, shrugged. “Okay, I trust you.” She picked up her pencil again. “Let me just–” more scribbling “–there! Okay, prepare for my gun laying command!”
Finally quiet, Applejack and Pinkie stood waiting for the order. Fluttershy, who was already quiet, remained so.
“Okay.” Twilight pointed to the feuding pair. “You two! Traverse right, seventy-eight degrees!”
They did as told, grasping the traverse wheel and cranking the gun ever-so-slowly to the right.
“Okay, now you!” Twilight pointed at Fluttershy with a levitated pencil, still watching the traversing piece of artillery. “As soon as they finish, set elevation to–” Twilight looked down at a levitated notebook, skimming the tables for a time-on-target solution at the appropriate range and powder load “–sixty five degrees, and preset clutches to fifty three and forty one!”
Fluttershy nodded, but did not turn to Twilight to do so, instead looking on at the howitzer, which had now turned a solid eighth-turn from its original position, and, more worryingly, a solid eighth-turn away from any of the muzzles of any of the other guns in the battery. That seemed weird to Fluttershy, who, despite not having seen any maps of the area due to her lowly status in the gun crew, was pretty sure the bad guys (and girls, as all griffons served) were not in the gun’s new direction. She looked towards the gun’s new direction, which was a pair of snow-capped mountain tops that she could swear indicated something important. A citadel, a headquarters, a border, or –
“Hey! HEY! Fluttershy! Stop dreaming about bunnies and dial in the damn elevation!”
Fluttershy awoke out of the daze with a jump and an emphatic and very typical “eek,” bounding over to the now-stationary artillery piece and spinning the elevation knob, raising the gun. As instructed, she preset two elevation stops to the two lower specified elevations, then finished raising the gun to the desired sixty-five degrees.
“Honestly, that mare makes for the sorriest soldier…” muttered Twilight.
Fluttershy looked back towards her officer as she stepped away from the howitzer, offering only a sheepish shrug.
Twilight rolled your eyes. “At least you wear your earplugs.” A snort of laughter. “Oh, right. I knew I forgot something.” She turned back towards Rarity, who had finished pulling all the requested munitions from the cart. “RARITY!”
Rarity, sweating from the effort of moving high-caliber artillery shells, looked up from under her helmet in the very picture of annoyance. She was good at that.
“MOVE THESE INTO SETS OF FOUR. ONE SHELL, THREE BAGS.”
Rarity, who had only sort-of heard the command but could infer the rest, nodded, dragging the shells through the air and towards the gun, laying one of the assembled groups on the loading ramp in front of the breech.
“Okay! Rainbow Dash, ready with the signal light?”
“You got it, egghead!” Rainbow Dash uncovered the signal lamp, tossing a canvas tarp to the ground and flipping a switch to wake the bulb underneath. “What’s my time of flight?”
“Ninety three seconds, Dash!” Twilight answered, adjusting one of Rarity’s ammo piles into a slightly straighter line with a haze of purple. “And the rest of you, take up positions and prepare to fire!”
With practiced steps, Pinkie and Applejack positioned themselves behind the breech, ready to ram in the shell and powder charges. Somewhat less assured, Fluttershy moved over to the right side of the gun, taking up the firing lanyard in her hoof. While part of the meek mare’s reluctance could of course be attributed to reluctance to stand near the enormously loud howitzer a wing’s width from her face, at least some was due to a persistent distraction as she tried to figure out just what those mountain tops indicated.
Unbothered by her assistant gunner’s seeming disarray, Twilight took up her final position, horn lighting and purple aura surrounding the breech’s lever. “Okay girls, remember, we’ve got three shells, and we’ve got to get them off in less than five seconds each, so we’ve got to be fast. Ready?”
Applejack and Pinkie responded first, each one with a hoof behind the first shell. “Ready!”
“You got it, Lieutenant Dork!” Rainbow Dash, despite her flippant response, held a rock-steady hoof on her light’s signaling lever. “On you!”
“As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” answered Rarity, who had read enough from the lips of her crew-mates to get the gist of what was going on. Her horn lit, surrounding the second stack in blue aura. “I’ll take the second one.”
Fluttershy did not say anything, brow now deeply furrowed in thought. She could swear she had seen those mountains in a picture in her initial briefing, but she couldn’t remember why. She was pretty sure it was some kind of division. Maybe it marked the end of the gun’s range? Or maybe –
“Hey! Fluttershy! Speak up, you’ve got a job to do, girl!”
“Oh!” Twilight’s voice broke Fluttershy out of her stupor. “Well, it’s just that, um, I think there might be some kind of–”
“Tell me about the rabbit later, Corporal.” Twilight shook her head dismissively. “Right now, I need you to do your job, not worry about whatever thing you saw leaping around out there.”
Fluttershy, hiding behind her mane and the brim of her helmet, said nothing, but nodded in cowed acceptance.
“Okay! That’s over, then. Honestly, it’s like you never even went to boot,” Twilight chuckled., then, after a deep breath, composed herself into an appropriately authoritative state. “On my command!”
A few loaded moments passed, the gun pit silent except for the faint murmur of magical activity from the two unicorns.
“LOAD!” Twilight threw the breech open on the gun, the block dropping mere moments before the two loaders slammed the shell into the waiting chamber. With another wave of purple, the powder bags followed, the final one affixed with a primer, before the breech slammed close with a final push of magic. Once the breech locked and her crew stepped clear of the recoil path, Twilight gave her next command. “FIRE!”
Fluttershy, lost in thought, didn’t hear her. She was almost sure now, the mountains marked some kind of boundary, and an important one, too.
“FIRE! FIRE!” Twilight roared. “FIRE THE GODDAMN GUN, FLUTTERSHY!”
Fluttershy, panicked, yanked the lanyard, discharging the howitzer with a tremendous boom and gut-quaking shock-wave.
Twilight, mostly recovered from the seeming impudence of her subordinate, returned to her normal command, yanking the breech open. “LOAD!”
The crew once again slammed a shell home, this time aided by blue magic, not purple.
“ADJUST!”
Fluttershy, this time without hesitation, smacked a hoof into the gun’s elevation mechanism, sending it downwards into the next predetermined stop.
“FIRE!”
Fluttershy, with only the briefest of delays, tugged on the cord, firing the howitzer.
The breech slammed open. “LOAD!” A shell virtually flew forwards into the breech.
The second command came faster this time. “ADJUST!” The gun swung downwards.
“FIRE!” The gun barked out a final blast, this time at a much flatter angle.
As trained, Rainbow Dash, with the final shot, immediately sent out her signal to the waiting forward observer. “*Shot, over!*”
After a few moments, a flashing light along the front lines, now a good thirty degrees from the muzzle of the gun, responded in kind, barely visible over the settling dust cloud from the muzzle blast. “*Shot, out!*”
“Phew!” Twilight removed her helmet, wiping a grimy hoof across her forehead. “I think we just might have made it in time! Good work, everypony!”
“Thanks, Twi!” Applejack responded, sitting back onto her haunches. “I think we just about made those four second splits! ‘Course, it sure helps when it’s the powder shells, since they don’t weigh as much.”
“I think we did too. That was pretty good, girls.” Twilight nodded, appreciation tempered slightly by confusion as what Applejack meant by ‘powder shells.’ That was a weird way to talk about high explosive, although occasionally Applejack was prone to somewhat inscrutable euphemisms. She turned her head towards Rainbow Dash, who remained by the light. “Do you have your stopwatch set?”
“Yeah, I do. Still got about eighty seconds.” Rainbow Dash frowned slightly. “Although I had to correct it, since you guys didn’t fire when Twilight said to.”
“Oh YEAH! I forgot!” Twilight wheeled around, pointing a hoof at Fluttershy. “What was that about, huh? Just decided you didn’t feel like doing your job? Saw a bug on the muzzle?”
Fluttershy shook her head emphatically, eyes wide in panic. “Uh, um, n-no, it was because–”
“Because what, Fluttershy?” Twilight stomped an authoritative hoof. “And it better be a pretty freaking great reason, because every time you hesitate you screw up the math! And let me tell you, that math is hard!”
Fluttershy gulped. “We-well, um, I think it’s pretty, uh, great.”
Twilight looked back in semi-amused shock. “Oh? What is it this time?”
“Well, uh, it’s that the, um, bad guys are, uh…” Fluttershy pointed towards the gun’s original target. “Over there.”
Twilight waved a hoof dismissively. “What? Fluttershy, don’t be silly! We wouldn’t have messed up that–”
For the second time in a day, Twilight had a terrible, terrible realization.
“What did you say?”
“Uh, well, I, um, think that you might have misread Dash’s writing, because the gun is definitely pointed towards them–” Fluttershy pointed a hoof at the twin peaks in the distance “–and I don’t really remember what exactly those meant but I’m, uh, pretty sure we weren’t supposed to shoot at them. At all.”
Twilight, temporarily struck mute, trotted over to the breech of the gun, sighting, with considerable dread, down the top of the barrel. Sure, the muzzle pointed squarely at the two mountains Fluttershy indicated. Twilight, unlike Fluttershy, had read the maps of the area, so she did know what those meant.
The border of neutral Griffonstone.
“Oh, fuck.” Twilight took a step back, eyes wide in panic. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”
“What is, Twi?” Asked an increasingly concerned Rainbow Dash, eyes still on her stopwatch.
“I think we just shelled – no!” Twilight, with a gasp of relieved shock, levitated over her notebook, flipping to the range tables located within. “Ha! Ha! Don’t worry girls, we’re okay!” Twilight sat back onto her haunches in relief. “We didn’t just shell Griffonstone after all!” A nervous chuckle, like the kind seen with a foal who just sneaked a hoof out of the cookie jar. “Ha! Phew! That was a close one. No, some poor patch of sand is about to get a nasty high-explosive surprise, but we’re just fine.”
The gun pit sat in silenced dread for a moment.
After a moment, Applejack coughed. “Uh, Twi, we didn’t shoot high-explosive.”
Twilight said nothing, but her field flared in panic, crumpling her notebook involuntarily. “What.”
“Yeah, we, uh, shot white phosphorus,” Applejack continued, removing her helmet and scratching with a hoof. “White bands.”
Twilight, staring straight ahead, cleared her throat, pulling the rumples out of her notebook with deft magical touches. “… Are you sure?”
“Very,” confirmed Pinkie. “I always remember moments wherein we fire Celestia’s Wrath – that’s what I call WP – such that I can use the memories later–”
“SHIT!” Twilight threw open her notebook, flipping hastily to the range tables. “Shut up about whatever weird shit you do, Pinkie, because – oh no.”
“W-what?” asked Fluttershy, whose brief pleasure at being correct had been replaced by a deep horror. “What is it?”
Twilight, shaking her head in despair, conjured an abacus in the air, moving ethereal beads around in lightning fast math. “No, no, it’s about a third the weight, so multiply the whole thing by that term, and–” with a horrified gasp, the abacus disappeared, the notebook falling out of the air “–two and a half miles.”
The gun crew turned to Twilight in unison. “WHAT?”
Twilight, after a heave of gut-wrenching dread, clarified. “Those landed two and a half miles inside the border.”
After a few lead-heavy moments passed, Pinkie, deadly serious, spoke up. “Friend Twilight, are you sure?”
Not willing to answer Pinkie, Twilight merely looked up in horror to Rainbow Dash, who had just signaled her final query to the forward observer. “*Splash, over!*”
The light on the horizon did not respond at the same pace as before, taking several agonizing moments to reply. When it did, it confirmed the worst. “*Negative splash! Adjust fire!*”
Rainbow Dash, finished translating the message, sucked in a breath through her teeth. She locked eyes with Twilight, shaking her head. “Not even close.”
“Oh dear Celestia, they’re going to SHOOT me for this!” Twilight threw off her helmet, rolling all the way back onto her spine. “I’m dead, we’re dead, we’re all dead!”
“Hey!” Fluttershy, who had rushed over, poked a hoof at Twilight. “No reason to panic yet, Twilight!” She offered a weak smile. “Maybe we, um, didn’t hit anything important?”
Nestled at the very border of the principality in the breathtaking beauty of an awe-inspiring mountain valley, the “Välfjädrad Memorial Orphanage, Old-Hen’s Home, and Puppy Shelter” was the very picture of Griffonstonian efficiency. Whereas most other, lesser, polities would have forced charities to compete for such a prime piece of real estate, Griffonstone merely combined the various disparate organizations to work together, resulting in a single massive building which housed a veritable smorgasbord of the vulnerable in the utmost of safety and comfort. While the building did reside at least somewhat uncomfortably close to the border, and thus an active battlefield, the local government had been assured by both belligerents that the chance of stray ordnance was virtually none.
What they had failed to account for was that virtually none was not none. Indeed, six particular mares in the Equestrian service had prevailed against such odds before, on Nightmare Night, at a Canterlot Wedding, when against a god of Chaos. Fairly typical to them, as these things go.
Which was small comfort when three white phosphorus shells, each one merely milliseconds apart, sailed through the roof. Hopefully no one was home.