Chapter Seventeen
Enlistment
By Urgent Royal Decree
To the citizens of Equestria, my faithful little ponies.
I know the last few years have been riven with strife. I know we have faced many obstacles from those who would wish us harm, those who would drive apart the bonds of friendship and sow discord within our midst. I know that we live in uncertain times.
But now more than ever before, we, the ponies of Equestria, face a great and grave threat. The tragedy of Canterbury and the battle at the ruins in the Everfree Forest were the foremost and direst of these. The deaths of the many dozens of ponies and of the guards who gave their lives will be remembered in memorial. The nature of our newest threat is the same. King Greyfeather and Khan Goldtooth have declared war on Equestria. They have been manipulated by Queen Chrysalis a servant of corrupted evil gods.
Equestria as a nation has not faced the horrors of war before, not in recent times. We have been sheltered by the heroes of this generation, the Elements of Harmony. But this is not a lone terror, thousands of soldiers, led by misguided generals’, march on our nation. Against such a foe the Elements have little use. I speak with frankness because I believe for what I am about to ask of each of you warrants such honesty.
Equestria cannot stand by as marauding armies despoil our lands and our ponies. The events at Canterbury will not be allowed to happen again. For so many centuries we have lived in peace, never seeking quarrel, never warranting aggression. Now we will no longer stand idly, we will not be bullied or victimised. I Princess Celestia, leader of Equestria, will ask of you my ponies something I have not asked in so long.
Equestria needs you to protect it, to fight the invading armies that threaten to tear down all we have accomplished. The road ahead for us is dark and uncertain. Through the strengthening of our bonds of unity, through steadfast resolve, through fierce determination, we will win.
In the coming days those with the courage to respond should arm and ready themselves for the defence of the nation. In four days’ time, on the thirteenth day of the month, all who volunteer should report to their local authorities and guard posts.
Furthermore the raising of an army requires payment, for wages, equipment and training. As of today, by royal decree, a levy will be raised to fund the construction of the Royal Equestrian Army.
As a final note, it is expected that in three days’ time forces of the Griffon Kingdom will occupy Equestria Minor and its capital at Trottingham. Our hearts go out to the ponies there and we hope the rest of Equestria will join us in wishing them well until they can be freed from the tyranny of King Greyfeather. They do not stand alone, they will not be forgotten.
I wish you all the best of health in the uncertain future we face.
Princess Celestia
Trottingham, Equestria Minor (three days later)
It was a bright and sunny day in Trottingham. The weather reports were for light rain coming through in a front from the ocean to the West, but clearly the weather ponies had worked overtime to disperse the weather front. Despite the good climate the mood in the city was dark and gloomy. It hung over Equestria Minor in a heavy pall, the populace was sullen and resigned, it knew its fate.
Far from the archaic town hall in the city centre with its concrete domed roof and pillared front. Further from the expansive square with its many fountains and water features, left devoid of the usual frolicking foals typical of such a sunny day. Past the royal theatre and its grand old visage, its towering white pillars, the many posters of various plays from antiquity and its many oak pillared doors. Far from the city’s core there were those among the many who refused to give in over something as paltry as horrible odds, one in particular was not going to stand idly by as his home was subjugated and colonised.
A lone stallion, living in a little old home in the suburbs of Trottingham, an unremarkable two story terraced house, stirred. He had spent the last few minutes staring at his own reflection in the mirror. His eyes were a chestnut brown; they were weary and tired with lines in the corners showing the stallion’s age. His auburn mane was well kept, short and militaristic. Being a pony of Equestria Minor his coat was the usual white with brown patches. He rubbed a hoof across his forehead, muscles bunched up, sinewy, old but with an unmistakeable latent power. The stallion sighed dejectedly, getting to his hooves he threw his wings wide and ascended into the attic. After a few minutes of rummaging he returned with a bundle held in his forelegs, setting it down reverently on his well-kept bed.
Meticulously, with no comment or emotive expression he unwrapped the cloth, revealing golden armour evidently untouched for many years. The padding within the plate armour was frayed with age and wear but it was still adequate in the old stallion’s mind. Satisfied by the brief inspection he began to strap on each segment of the barding. He began with the backplate, then the breastplate, leg plates and the various other accoutrements. Finally he strapped on his vambrace and retractable sword alongside his shield. Turning once more to the mirror he reverently lowered the golden helm onto his head.
“Well, darling. I know I said I would never wear my armour again, but ponies need me. I know I made a promise to myself, but I know you would want me to do this.”
Those few words spoken aloud he strode from the bedroom. He glided down the stairs to the hallway. The stallion stooped down to heft his saddlebags onto his back and nosed the door open. He breathed in deeply, savouring the fresh air and the feeling it stirred in his wings.
Outside waited a lone Royal Guard pegasus, standing vigil and silent even upon the stallion’s approach.
The stallion spoke to the Royal Guard first.
“So the time has come then ey?”
“It would appear so old friend. We’ve had volunteers gathered. They should be marching around the corner any minute now.”
“How many?”
“Just two hundred in total, nearly a half of them pegasi though. They are the ones we are to take command of.”
“So few, thousands of griffons are about to invade and nopony will stand to defend their homes.”
“I know sergeant.”
The stallion glanced sideways with irritation. “Not a sergeant, Whirlwind. Haven’t been a sergeant for well over a decade.”
“Apologies then Mr Wind. Might want to remove that insignia then” said the guard, pointing out the sergeant’s insignia on the stallion’s breastplate. The comment was met with a gruff snort of derision and the two reverted to silence as hoof steps began to echo across the street.
Trees lined the road, well cared for their bright green leaves and prominent branches spread a measure of shade from the beating sun above. The stallion could make out the outlines of ponies glancing fearfully from their terraced homes across the street. Snouts protruded from drawn curtains, eyes shone in the darkness.
The pounding of hoof steps grew louder.
“So” began the guard named Whirlwind, “Can we expect the captain to be joining us Swift? Captain Forlorn is the commanding officer for the district and we’ve yet to receive word.”
“I can’t say for certain, I doubt Equestria would waste resources on us though. My son probably won’t be coming back for the war” replied Swift Wind, Forlorn’s father.
“You really think we’re on our own here?”
“Aye sergeant, we’re a sideshow in this. But by the princesses we will make the griffons pay for their treachery.” This statement was followed by a solemn nod from the guardspony.
By now ponies were coming into view. They were largely Equestria Minors, with their distinctive white and brown patches coat, but the odd pastel hue of the mainland was visible too. The column of ponies wore an eclectic variety of armour, ranging from medieval era suits, clearly taken from the museums, to more modern barding, rudimentary stiffened fabric and chainmail. Their total number was some eighty or so pegasi, marching five wide and sixteen deep. In the lead, five Trottingham guards, corporals by their insignia, led the militia past Swift Wind.
When the column was called to a halt the five Royal Guards, resplendent in their golden armour and blue crested helmets, broke from the fore of the rabble of a regiment. Taking wing, four of the guards space themselves evenly and called for the column to turn to face the sergeant and the former sergeant. The remaining guard flew up to the pair, standing to attention before Sergeant Whirlwind.
“Corporal Jink reporting for duty sergeant. All volunteers ready for inspection sergeant.”
“Very good corporal” replied Whirlwind. He turned to address Swift. “Well then, as of now you are officially reinstated into the Trottingham Royal Guard, Swift. Sergeant Swift, your command is awaiting inspection.”
“Thank you Sergeant Whirlwind. Right then.”
The stallion strode down the few steps before his house and paced along the column of volunteers, casting a critical eye over the rabble before him. His visage was grim, his eyes cold and calculating. A tangible air of dissatisfaction exuded from the reinstated sergeant. Coming to a halt after his second pass, he seemed to pause for a second before quickly rounding on the regiment.
“What a sorry excuse for a bloody militia! Here I thought I was going to be leading warriors, bar room brawlers and ruthless killers. Look what I got, a rabble of scared foals, well I can work with it.”
Striding forward he singled out an individual, a Trottingham mare with pearly blue eyes peered up at him from under her overly large helmet. Her borrowed chainmail rustled as she shook. Despite her nerves and ill-fitting armour she was an attractive mare, middle aged with a nervous defiance to her.
“You, what’s your name?”
“Blossom sir, Bright Blossom” the mare replied with a sheepish smile, crossed with a mild waver of fear notable in her voice.
“I am not a sir. I am a sergeant, only officers are called sir. You ever been in a fight before Mrs Blossom?” He asked.
“Erm, well no not really”
“What do you mean not really” bit back Swift, making sure to follow the volunteer’s replies quickly and aggressively.
“Well I used to wrestle with my brother a lot when we were younger and did kung fu for a year.”
“Ain’t that impressive ey! Real dangerous one you are.” Snorting and backing up he wheeled on another figure, picked at random. “And you what’s your name?”
“Erm” began the rather large stallion, his eyes flitting about in uncertainty.
“Well then Erm, that’s a pretty unique name you got there. Hold out your wing” commanded Swift.
The young buck did so, but hesitantly. He raised his right wing, extending the thin blades that ran along their length. ‘Wing blades, may the princesses watch over anypony stupid enough to buy into these wretched things’ thought Swift Wind. “What the bloody hell are those things Erm.”
“They’re wing blades sir.”
“And I’m still not a bloody officer! I want those death-traps removed immediately Erm!”
“Why sergeant?” replied the stallion, his words laced with both confusion and irritation.
“Because Erm, because those things are a lie, spread by fools with pens who know nothing about real combat. Do you see any of the Royal Guard wearing them? No, and let me tell you why. Quick quiz everypony! You are travelling at seventy miles per hour with wing blades. Your opponent is travelling at a similar speed in the opposite direction when you clash. What is the resultant impact speed?”
“One hundred and forty miles per hour sergeant” piped up one of the guards from behind him, clearly revelling in the verbal beat down.
“Correct. Now your opponent parries your attack. Can anyone tell me what is the result of that collision on your wing? The one you are using to stay airborne with? For the sake of the maths let’s say you’re moving at thirty metres every second as are they. We can assume the average pony could get at a minimum of say ten kilograms of their body mass behind the strike. Let’s be generous and also assume an impact time of a second. What happens?”
“The bone will shatter sergeant, eighteen K N of force on a bone that can only take three” chimed in another guard from further down the line who was familiar with the numbers. It was something all pegasus guards were taught during aerial combat training. The need to protect one’s wings and to judge the best way to effectively and safely defend one’s self was paramount.
“Precisely, and then you are useless to me. More than that having rigid steel running along your wing with a few interlocking joints decreases your ability to manipulate your wings and thus weighing them down. In aerial combat manoeuvrability is paramount, these hinder that putting you at further disadvantage. In short they will get you killed. This is why we use retractable hoof blades. Now take those damn things off Mr Erm.”
The stallion quickly did as ordered, clearly fearful of another turn of being yelled at. From the corner of Swift’s eye he caught the sight of Blossom stifling a giggle. Ignoring the ill-discipline, he decided to get the show on the road. Swift Wind's example was one which was typically wildly open to variables in reality but then the figures were conservative at best.
“The next few days will be hard, we will be spending it lying low in the countryside, on escape and evasion since the enemy will be at their keenest on arrival. During this time you will be trained to something which approaches acceptable standards. From there we will get to work on hampering their actions on our territory. We will fight back. Most of you will have heard of me, I know my reputation precedes me. My name is Sergeant Swift Wind.
“On my oath I am not a lying stallion and I will promise you this, before this war is over those bird brained bastards will learn the futility invading our homes. I mean to frustrate them, to confound them. I will tear apart their plans, manipulate their intelligence and destroy their works. You, my little ponies, will assist me and in doing so I will make you something more than just volunteer militia. I will turn you into soldiers.”
Taking flight and rising so that the sun glinted from his shining armour he looked down on his volunteers with a fierce and honest determination. With so many youthful, hopeful faces peering up at the old stallion he was struck hard inside. An emotion he could not place, but one he had felt before wrapped around his chest. He suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to see his son again.
“On my oath I am not a lying stallion. You are my little ponies, and I will look after you.”
Ponyville, Equestria ( The following day)
In the four days since the proclamation of war the camp had become a hive of activity. The Trottingham guards had stepped up their training as had their Empire counterparts. The human presence around the gateway had also increased. Their time was running out with only half a day, mere hours, before the gateway began to collapse. Needless to say the camp was imbued with a strange tension. The near constant stream of nervous ponies and officials came and went with increasing regularity.
It was the fourth day since the royal decree had been posted on every street across the country. The first days were met with panic and confusion, an air of disbelief had swept across the nation. Now though, grim acceptance was beginning to take hold. The immense wealth and capacity of Equestria was being mobilised for the coming days. Forges across the country pumped out steel. Armour plating, chain links for mail, swords, spear tips and various tools were all produced at an outstanding rate. The royal treasury flowed with money, mainly though it flowed out of it.
Captain Forlorn Wind sat down at his desk. It was not really his but had been given to him by Mayor Mare for the purposes of the next few days. Being the highest ranked military officer in the Ponyville region he technically outranked the mayor and hence the signing of volunteers was his responsibility. He sat in the open, at a stall positioned at the top of the stairs before town hall. Two of his guards stood to attention beside him. They wore their standard ceremonial barding just as he currently did although he had removed his helmet in a gesture to make him look less like a faceless guard and more like the ponies who would come to him to volunteer. His helmet though was placed on the desk nonetheless.
The morning was coming to a close and he looked out over a subdued Ponyville. There were numerous ponies on the streets today. More stallions than usual too which was unusual since culturally speaking stallions generally did more indoor or industrial work leaving outdoor jobs such as running stalls and town shops to mares. Many ponies milled about the town square, some surreptitiously waiting for the booth to open, others going about their business.
Looking over the various stalls he saw the usual trades represented. The usual odds and ends were on offer, food and drink were prominent too on such a fine day. Forlorn could make out the Apple family stall from his vantage point, catching Applejack’s eye and getting a small wave of greeting which he reciprocated. Across from the Element Bearer Forlorn recognised a new stall, this one selling hoof-crafted wares such as woven baskets and pottery. The mare handling it was a Canterbury survivor. Over the past week Ponyville had become something of a rallying point for the displaced victims. Of course they had no jobs and little money but the town had found a way. A shade of a smile crossed Forlorn’s muzzle, many still were living off the charity of the townsponies and government aid but they were increasingly becoming more capable of fending for themselves.
However many of those milling about before his desk were Canterburians, they were waiting to enlist.
The time was drawing near. The ringing of the bells in town hall would signal the change in hour and the official beginning of the Royal Equestrian Army. Then the volunteers would come.
From Forlorn’s point of view the whole situation left him feeling lost. Just yesterday griffons had landed in Trottingham and seized the city in the name of their king. A thousand questions consumed his mind whenever he thought about it. What about his dad? Were the griffons mistreating the ponies? What had happened to his guards? Half his command was left in Trottingham and word was yet to reach the mainland of their fate.
The bell began to chime, ponies turned to look up at him across the market place. A few of them stepped forward uncertainly, others backed away out of sight.
Staring into the distance, heedless of the many eyes that were on him, Forlorn continued to ponder what is, was and will be. His mind travelled in dark places. He had avoided such thoughts for the past few days. They had been so busy in the camp preparing. Only now with three more bell rings to go did he allow his mind to open.
The bell rang once, twice, thrice and Forlorn focused on the approaching ponies, his thoughts back on the task at hoof.
The first one walked softly up the wooden steps. His pale yellow coat and brown mane were completely unremarkable along with his generic three horseshoe cutie mark.
“What’s your name stallion?” asked Forlorn genially.
“Caramel, sir. I want to enlist” replied the young stallion. He did an admirable job of hiding the waver in his voice.
“Any experience?”
“Er no sir.”
“Sign your name then and report to the camp tomorrow at dawn. You’re a soldier now.”
Gesturing to the sheet of paper laid out before him, Forlorn pushed forward a pencil for the stallion to use. Caramel took it
up in his mouth and quickly scrawled a signature which loosely resembled his name and then backed off as a few more ponies formed a queue behind him.
Forlorn settled in for the long haul. He expected some twenty to thirty ponies over the course of the day as they trickled in. Offering the paper to a mare he spoke the rehearsed lines and accepted her enlistment. A shame to mar such a nice day with war, at least he had tea to drink and Pieter said he would visit some time later.
A few hours later the number of recruits was thin on the ground. He had underestimated Ponyville. A full thirty signatures were already gathered, at least ten of which were names and ponies he had recognised as being Canterbury ponies. Perhaps it was their presence which had galvanised the townponies. Either way the numbers looked promising for such a small town.
Another pony landed heavily by the steps, skidding slightly as she landed. A grey pegasus mare with a blond mane stumbled up the steps. She smiled at him genially and Forlorn was struck by her eyes. One looked straight at him however the other appeared to be gazing off towards Guardspony Strider to his right. The sight of the mare caused a sensation of unease to grasp Forlorn. It was true that he was to accept every able bodied pony, but a pegasus who could not coordinate themselves was a liability.
“Hello” called out the mare happily.
“Hello mrs.”
“I would like to enlist sir” she said, waiting patiently before him and still smiling. Her demeanour only served to make Forlorn more uncomfortable. Shaking his head he ignored his reservations for a more honest approach.
“Certainly. Just a quick question however. I can’t help but notice your eyes mrs, with all respect a visual impairment could disqualify you from volunteering.” Forlorn was left feeling distinctly uncomfortable in the wake of her shocked and hurt reaction. Honest to Celestia there were tears in her eyes. “Look I’m sorry lass but . . .” but Forlorn was interrupted before he could explain.
A pink blur shot out from underneath the decking of town hall, bouncing over the bannister to land beside the upset pegasus. Pinkie Pie threw a foreleg around the other mare, comforting her while looking up at Forlorn with something akin to disappointment.
“Miss Pinkie Pie, where in Equestria did you come from!” exclaimed Forlorn at her sudden arrival.
“Hey, there’s an unhappy pony in Ponyville and it’s my duty to help them. Why did you make Derpy cry Captain Forlorn? That’s a bit mean” accused Pinkie Pie.
“I’m sorry ok but she has a visual impairment. If she was a unicorn or earth pony then I could probably let her off, hay I could pass it off if she had one eye, but she simply poses a risk and a vulnerability to a unit during aerial combat” explained Forlorn as succinctly and evenly as he could.
“But I just want to help” begged Derpy, wrapping her wing around Pinkie’s body as she did so.
“Well you can apply for a logistical position. There are a number of companies that have been hired to provide support ponies and deal with logistics.”
Pinkie Pie’s face screwed up in thought at Forlorn’s offer, the mare beside her merely shook her head in disappointment. Then, in an explosion of energy, Pinkie zoomed off, a pink blur trailing behind her. She bounded up to the nearest tree, an old oak tree beside a dairy stand. Shoving her hoof into the hollow of the tree she retrieved what appeared to be a thin strip of black cloth. Pinkie happily leapt back over to Forlorn and Derpy. Without waiting for Derpy’s permission she threw the strip around the mare’s face and tied it behind her head. The eye patch sat snuggly on the blond pegasus, giving her a roguish appearance instantly.
Before Forlorn could stop himself he burst out laughing. Before long both Derpy and Pinkie had joined in with him, even the guards beside him sniggered.
“Ha ha, oh Celestia, Pinkie, never change. Yeh okay I think I can work with that. Problem is your perception would be out and your spatial awareness is affected. The patch isn’t ideal since it still limits several visual abilities, depth perception and such. But there’s a clause that allows it since it was implemented for wounded guards so that they could remain in the service. I’m fairly sure I can sneak you in, private. Sign your name. Be at the camp tomorrow at dawn.”
The overly excited mare bounced on her hooves once or twice before taking up the pencil and signing her name. She thanked Pinkie Pie and Forlorn before taking off, the strap which covered one of her eyes visible in her mane as she lifted into the air. Even before she was out of sight a familiar face showed up.
Pieter strode through the crowd with all the self-assurance of a Canterlot noble, but then he was a noble so perhaps that was to be expected. He wore the usual plain tunic and trousers in the white and grey of his state. He wore his customary belt with the holstered flintlock pistols and short sword attached. Beside him walked Big Macintosh. The giant red pony had become a familiar sight of sorts around the camp. Delivering apples and, very rarely, cider on a regular basis when the requisition forms were handled by Forlorn meant he had become accustomed to the pony that very much resembled the mountain range which was his namesake, large and immovable.
The pair was talking amongst themselves as they strode towards town hall. Big Mac stopped to talk to his sister at the stall for a minute while Pieter picked up an apple in exchange for a few bits. Forlorn got back to sorting the papers before him, his own list of the various races and genders of the volunteers was put aside while he sharpened the pencil. When he looked up the two males were back on track, heading for his desk.
Taking a quick sip of tea he flashed them both a smile and set aside his cup.
“Hey you two” called out yet another familiar voice, this time one from a particular rainbow maned pegasus. “I thought you said you were going to wait for me? What the hay guys?” Rainbow Dash landed beside them, fixing the pair with a fierce glare.
“Sorry Rainbow, but you were busy” replied Pieter defensively.
“Well today is a big day.”
“Eeyup.”
The three of them approached Forlorn, waving a welcome. He returned the gesture happily and rose from his seat behind the desk.
Pieter leapt up the last two stairs to exchange a fist/hoofbump with his fellow captain.
“How goes the day Forlorn?”
“Surprisingly well Pieter. I have a little over thirty signatures and this is only the first day. They’ll be reporting to the camp tomorrow assuming you’re still around.”
“Well it is about to get even better. I decided to personally escort them here myself. That is in truth a lie, I knew about Dash but Big Macintosh was just a convenient surprise. I had expected him to be busy with farm work.”
The other two ponies joined Pieter at the stair’s summit. He hesitated about hoofing over the paper, but then this was an issue he had been prepared for. It was a certain sheet of paper nearer to the bottom of the stack which had given him pause about Rainbow’s particular position. It was written in the neat, immaculately spelt and structured script of Princess Celestia. The command was a simple and yet frustrating one for this very purpose. The Element Bearers were not allowed to volunteer for the Royal Equestrian Army, and for the last few days all Rainbow could talk about during training was joining the fight.
“Well then Big Mac, if you’d like to sign your name we can get you enrolled. Erm Rainbow Dash, I have something to talk to you about. You may want to come with me” said Forlorn.
“Erm, okay, sure thing Forlorn” replied Rainbow Dash with increasing trepidation.
They descended the stairs and stood off to the left side of the entrance. Forlorn could make out Big Mac taking up the pencil and signing his name, at least he could take solace in that he had a pony such as him, a wall of muscle and power, on the list. But before he turned to the increasingly agitated blue pegasus beside him an angry yell interrupted his trail of thought.
“Big Macintosh! Just what in the hay do ya’ll think you’re doing?!” shouted Applejack from her stall, effortlessly vaulting the apple stand and galloping towards her brother.
‘Oh for Luna’s sake. No issues for the entire day then suddenly three of the Element Bearers turn up and everypony’s arguing’ thought Forlorn, his only outward expression being an exasperated sigh. He tuned out the ensuing argument, preferring instead to share a few words with Pieter.
They could overhear the occasional point and counter-point. Big Mac claimed that Fiddlesticks would be staying to work on the farm while he was gone and that Cheerilee was still willing to help out. Applejack responded with commendable stubbornness, either flat out ignoring her brother or reiterating used arguments. They went on for some time.
“Hey Forlorn” whispered Rainbow Dash, tapping the stallion on his armoured chest all the while watching the on-going argument with interest. “Do you think you could sign me up while Applejack’s busy? I’d kinda like to avoid having that argument if I’m honest.”
‘Well horseapples.’ Forlorn shuffled uncomfortably under her gaze. “Erm, Dash, there’s something I have to tell you. I want you to understand that I don’t agree with my orders, but I am honour bound to them.”
“What are you trying to say?”
With a heavy sigh the captain decided to just come clean. “Dash, I have orders not to accept your enlistment into the army.”
“What. The. Hay?!” Yelled Rainbow Dash, momentarily distracted the feuding Apple siblings
“Look I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?! Sorry isn’t good enough. What right does a pony have to tell me that I can’t defend my country? We’ve saved Equestria like four times and now we’re not allowed to help! That’s, that’s absolute shit that is!” she ranted, earning a gasp from Applejack and stopping the irate farm pony’s argument in its tracks.
“Rainbow Dash, mind your gosh darned language.”
“To heck with that, who ordered this?” she demanded.
“Princess Celestia herself.”
“Oh” replied Rainbow Dash, thoroughly taken aback, the wind truly struck from her metaphorical sails. “Well is there a reason at least?”
“Not one that she’d care to share with just an average captain I guess.”
“Well, it’s still stupid and there’s no way in heck I’m not going to help Equestria.”
“Look, just trust in the princess okay? She’ll have something in mind for you six.”
With an angry snort the pegasus relented. “Fine, if anypony needs me I’ll be getting lunch.”
“Hey Rainbow” called Applejack, marching up to stand beside her friend. “Mind if ah join you, Big Mac too. I think we all need a chat.”
“Er, yeh sure thing Applejack” replied Rainbow Dash, her fury momentarily forgotten.
The three civilians walked away, Applejack taking the lead. Pieter turned towards Forlorn, sparing him a sympathetic glance.
“Has it been like this all day” he asked.
“Only for the last ten minutes actually.”
“Well it looks like you have yet another volunteer.”
Forlorn looked to the right, away from Pieter to see another pony approaching the desk. She, for it was evidently a mare and an earth pony, trotted up to him with a friendly smile on her face. She had a pale beige/cream coat, strikingly different from the usual pastel colour pallets of other ponies as well as a two tone magenta/pink mane. The mare carried herself with a certain elegant poise indescribable to Forlorn. Very quickly though he realised he was staring.
“Caught you” whispered Pieter from the corner of his mouth.
Silently cursing his fellow captain and friend he made sure to keep his demeanour neutral as the mare approached.
“Hello ma’am. What can I do for you today?”
“Oh you’re the captain from Trottingham aren’t you? And erm yes, I came here to enlist.”
“That I am ma’am. My name’s Forlorn Wind. You’ll be training under me for the initial period until the army is rallied. May I ask your name?”
“Roseluck sir. I heard you were at the battle in the Everfree?” asked the mare uncertainly, her eyes, a light green, catching Forlorn’s nervously for a moment.
“Well yes. My fellow captain, Pieter von Grunberg here, was there as well. We both fought at the castle, why?”
The mare looked away sheepishly for a moment, clearly unsure of where she was going to take the conversation. “Well erm, I’d just like to say thank you. My cousin died in Canterbury, it’s kind of why I want to join up.” She finished her explanation awkwardly, scraping her hoof on the wooden decking and avoiding his gaze.
“Ah ok, well then lets sign you up I guess.” Forlorn hoofed over the paper and pencil and Roseluck signed her name in her own delicate script.
“Is that it?”
“Erm yeh, that’s all we need, private. We’ll see you tomorrow then at the camp yeh?” asked Forlorn.
“Certainly, see you then.” Roseluck spared both of the captains a smile before trotting off down the stairs and back into the market.
“That was adorable” commented Pieter, laughing at the scowl plastered across Forlorn’s face when he noticed it.
“Oh shut up Pieter.” Forlorn though had to try hard not to crack a smile. Given the gravity of the days to come though and the fact that Pieter may be gone by the end of today, the pegasus savoured the moment of merriment.
“I tell you my friend, ladies do love a good uniform. I for one cannot wait until I get back to Altdorf. This campaign has been a long one, I shall say that much.”
“Eurgh, that’s something I don’t need to know Pieter. Don’t you have preparations to do for tonight anyway?” asked Forlorn in referral to the Empire army relocating to the gateway, their one chance to leave Equestria for all they knew drawing near.
“The joys of being an officer Forlorn, delegation. Besides, the Saarls will be on the other side waiting for us, of that I am fairly certain. Markus will stay here. I know the man, he wants to help you and we will not have much of a choice anyway. The troops may hate it but there’s not much we can do for that.”
“No offence but I hope so Pieter. I don’t expect much help from our neighbours or allies. We’ll need you.”
“Really?”
“There are four nations which are militaristic and belligerent enough to fight a war. The wolven, who act purely defensively. The dragons, and they have non-aggression pacts with us, the dogs and the griffons. And then there are the dogs and griffons themselves. There are no nations out there, not even Celestia could convince the zebras or the arabians to open up a second front from the south or to send auxiliaries.”
“Sounds like you are pretty screwed my friend.”
“We’ll win, we have to.”
The two friends looked out over Ponyville, the bright blue sky accentuating its colourful and cheerful architecture. As the market stalls began to close and the working day drew towards its inevitable end the pair split up. Pieter returned to camp, ready to prepare himself for whatever trials there were to come. Forlorn stayed slightly longer at his desk. No more recruits would arrive though and before long he too was needed back at the camp. It had been decided that the Trottingham regiment was needed to support and oversee the Empire state troops along with the personal attendance of at the very least Princess Luna, perhaps even Celestia if she could be spared from her own incessant work.