CHAPTER 1: THORSE
In the days before Princess Celestia and her sister, back when Griffons roamed across Equestria and passive Dragons roamed across the fish-filled sea, Cloudsdale had been a thriving community of Pegasi from all over Equestria. The elevated haven sat between Canterlot (a large trading town for the Earth ponies) and gentle mountain slopes inhabited and civilised by the Unicorns (known today as the 'Unicorn Range'). These three settlements acted as trade and commute between the three pony races and for one thousand shining years, Central Equestria fell under the mystical magic of friendship and harmony. This was, however, not a unity to last. Between the pages of this tome lies the story of how darkness and evil spread across Equestria and led to the Great Equine Wars.
It is in the South where our story begins, beyond the Macintosh Hills, where the 'Badlands' stand today. However, back then the Badlands did not stand as it does today – a desolate plateau where even the bravest pony would dare not roam for fear of being gobbled up and spat out by hideous and foul creatures, their very souls twisted and wrapped by torment and fear. Instead, the badlands fell under a different name: Aching Rock. Deep under the mountain top (for a mountain it was back then), a grim cave full of peculiar bands and charms wormed itself to its very core. It would not be under much stretch of the imagination for one to picture the kind of Stallion that would inhabit such a place – a unicorn with a dark, grey mane and a matted coat that might well have been a dashing shade of green once but through the dirt and sweat it would be difficult to tell. Now what would a unicorn who's intellect matches that of Starswirl the Bearded and who's rogue-like charisma could sway even the most stubborn of mares be doing inside a rank cave hunting cave-bats and mushrooms for food? To answer that question it is required to go even further back into Equestria's history to the reforming of the Great Unicorn Court.
Sovereign the Elegant, a beautiful mare if ever there was one, sat upon the gilded throne at the Spiral Palace, a huge masterpiece crafted from Crystal from the desperate northern mountains and glass blown from glittering sand, hauled from the South-Western desert (such a palace no longer exists - although the Crystal Empire was built following similar architecture – but was instead dissolved into 'Vanhoover'). Sovereign had taken to the throne at the end of a generation, her father and his vassals growing too old to rule any longer and across the Unicorn territories castles and holds were left empty (regrettably a race-wide trait in Unicorns is arrogance and pride, and many Unicorns felt an heir was just another way to lose power even faster). It was up to the young new queen to employee a brand new court and among the list was our hermit living up in Aching Rock, except at this time he was a dashing young foal under the name of Thorse. Now Sovereign quickly became captivated by Thorse and, under the delusion of royal blood, believed she could have whatever she wanted – so she asked for his hoof in marriage. However, it was by exploiting her love that Thorse got all his greedy mind could wish for from the queen and would have taken the crown from her very horn had it not been for a rather surprising young hero, a foal with a thick, grey coat and rich, black mane – Cordal*. A musically talented unicorn whose brilliant mind (that could only be described as 'different') tricked and exposed Thorse and led to his sudden banishment and disgrace; but not before he cut Cordal down in an unfair duel and dragged him down to Aching Rock in his expulsion.
Under a fresh new court, the unicorns thought themselves safe while Thorse set himself a new challenge with a macabre new goal: revenge. For years he hid in the Macintosh Hills, kidnapping and bending the will of residents in a nearby Earth pony town (known to us as Appleoosa) into carving out Thorse's new residence. For years more the Stallion waited, slowly becoming less and less recognisable as tales spread across the South of Griffons, Dragons and Reindeer relocating from the mountain and inequine noises piercing the night. It would be too hideous to describe the acts that were performed in that hovel, the hideous creations and failed tests that lined the walls, but Thorse's efforts were not in vain. It was on the day of the 'Canterlot Parade'; a mighty festival where ponies from all races and factions joined to buy and sell, to feast and drink and to share their stories from all across Equestria, that an awful and absolute thing befell the peaceful continent. Needless to say, many of the congregating ponies' stories told tale of the dark magic spewing from the South, but were regarded as clop and trollop by the Central Equestrians. It was therefore with great surprise that thousands of pairs of eyes were thrown southwards when an enormous explosion emanated from Aching Rock and, with sheer disbelief, watched as whole boulders of rock hailed down across Canterlot and, indeed, the whole of Equestria (except for the most Northern mountains which were unreachable even by the raw force thrown out of that great mountain). As hooves thundered across the Canterlot square in search for cover, the dust clouds rising from impact craters slowly cleared to be replace with a shadow darker than night itself. Crumpled in a broken heap lay a twisted form – a wing here, a horn there and at what one could only assume to be its head, a large glaring yellow eye. A similar sight could be observed at what was left of Aching Rock, a battered Thorse curled up in the foetus position chuckling sourly to himself and slowly drifting into an infinite sleep.
King Bremane Puddinghead (a successor of Chancellor Puddinghead) marched out of Canterlot Castle accompanied by his Royal Guard and stood inspecting the furry comet that had landed in his courtyard. Barking questions at his secretary, Bremane trotted in circles whilst Ponies sprang from hiding to get home and see if they had fallen victim to the 'natural disaster'. However, this disaster was far from natural. Thorse's grotto had been its epicentre and his creation now lay staring into the face of the Earth Pony King – the horrendous Chimera (more tastefully called a Draconequus): Discord. For fifty years, Thorse had sat in the mountain capturing goats, griffons, salamanders, even dragons with the sole purpose of embodying the spirit of chaos – Discord incarnate – and upon griffon shoulders lay a head with a thinning, grey coat and fading black mane. With a deep, groaning sound the beast raised its snout and stared into Bremane's eyes, mimicking his expressions and raising the rest of its body painfully from the ground. Suddenly a misshapen wing flew outward, catching one of the Guards in the cheek and sending him spinning. Instantly seven more Earth Ponies from the Guard threw themselves at Discord, attempting to contain the menace, but were quickly defeated by ferocious claws and dark magic spewing from both of his horns. A blood-curdling roar escaped his mottled jaw as awkward wings carried Discord above Canterlot and West, towards the beautiful nimbus of Cloudsdale. If you had seen what Discord had seen as he floated up, above the peak of Canterlot mountain, you might have seen the upside-down tip of Aching Rock off the East coast of Filly Delphia (the island that has now become Manehatten) and a huge, dark patch just South of Canterlot that seemed to be growing roots: the Everfree Forest. It was in this damaged world that a new era began under chaos and tyranny: the Great Equine Wars.