25 years ago…
Madness. This had to be pure unadulterated madness: War cries ringing in the air, the clank of weapons against each other, and withered yelps in agony. And it had to be on a Monday.
Unicorn Private Second Class Sharp Quill panted heavily once he finished his mad dash for cover, finding it behind a near-ruined wooden shed. His heart felt like it was about to leap out from his chest, forcing the stallion to breath through his mouth. He had to calm down, had to lower the sound of his breathing—lest he was found. Mustering up any courage he still had, Sharp Quill slowly peeked his head out from the corner, his aqua eyes scouting the whole area as far as he could see.
His vision was soon greeted with a dreadful sight - the earth was littered with the fallen from each side, some of the corpses he had met the night before. His body slowly began to quiver as he felt his nerves beginning to cave in. This...This was not what he had signed up for! This was not the glory of battle he imagined when he enlisted, this was hell—pure and bloody.
It was not long before a pair of new figures crept onto the scene. The stallion ducked behind the shed, and peeked out to get a better look.
The newcomers were tall and lanky in form, their coats a dark violet which stood out with the ebony, jagged armor they wore. Menacing scarlet eyes gleamed from their pale horned-skulls, snickering and sneering as they gazed over the dead. Their tools for battle: a pair of crude black axes, one clenched in each bony claw.
“Satyrs…” he whispered. “Those bastards from the Frozen North, the ones who attacked the camp this morning.” The stallion held back a growl as he watched the marauders stride across the earth. The pair continued to cackle to some joke between them as they soon kicked and stepped upon the fallen. “Have these undead monsters no respect for the dead?” he said to himself.
His blood soon boiled rapidly as the atrocities continued to unfold, the Satyrs soon howling with sadistic laughter at each deed. Sharp Quill soon had to fight to keep himself quiet, lest a snarl alerted the duo to his presence. His panting soon grew to short, angry bursts, the colt longing to draw out his sheathed saber.
It was then the leader of the pair came upon the deceased form of a pegasus mare, tilting his head to each side as he seemed to be inspecting it. Sharp Quill blinked, unsure of what to make of this action. That was, until the raider slowly lifted up his hoof and quickly slammed it upon the skull.
The unicorn felt his eyes widen to the shocking vision, his blood now flowing magma throughout his body. Without even a thought, he soon charged forth with a loud yell and glowing horn. He managed to catch their attention.
The look of shock was bore onto their skulls before one was blasted into a nearby wall with an aqua beam. The other Satyr leapt back in response, still a bit taken by the surprise. However, shock made way for vicious rage, a snarl now rumbling from the villain as he readied his axes for a fight.
The unicorn narrowed his eyes as he galloped forth to his opponent, his saber now drawn and hoisted into the air. He gave another yell as he doubled his speed, intending to crash into the defiler with brutal momentum. However his charge was now soon met by the Satyr’s own, the distance between them now fading as their weapons were poised to deliver the damage.
It was so fast when it all happened: The sound of something swishing through the air, a cry of pain, and a stinging sensation. When he came to his senses, Sharp Quill found himself standing on the other end, a large bleeding cut now present upon his right rear leg. He winced as he fought to hold back the pain, his eyes soon staring at the other end of the lane.
Between them laid a broken black horn upon the tainted soil, the Satyr muttering a stream of curses as he tried to cover where his right horn once stood. The sight was enough to bring a faint cocky smirk upon the unicorn’s snout, looking quite pleased with his handiwork.
"You...You filthy Equine!! You broke my horn!! You broke my horn!!" the Satyr cursed, his eyes now glowing with utter rage.
"Didn't make you appealing before, didn't it?" Sharp Quill soon retorted, hoisting his sword in retaliation while his smirk remained.
"You horned trash, I'll kill you! I'll kill you and offer your heart to the beasts of Tartarus!" his counter snarled, using his free hand to scope up the fallen axe as he took a stance to charge again.
"Then bring it on, you stupid goat!" the unicorn shouted, scratching at the dirt as he prepared to counter-charge. That turned out to be a very poor choice for an insult….
The undead hollered, dashing forth at an incredible speed as his axes now were aimed to kill. The unicorn responded with a swift gallop, sword aiming true while he lowered his horn for the charge.
Ding...ding...ding...
And then...Came the ringing of bells.
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Now...
If you have reached the final section of this guide, it will be my recommendation to pass it along to your fellow soldier, or even to a friend or family member so they can learn. We live in tranquility and peace, but each passing year, our foes grow more and more fierce with their attacks, seeking to push through the barriers that keep them from our borders. If those defenses were to ever fall...We must stand united against this hellish face of chaos. Earth pony, unicorn, pegasus, Griffin, Minotaur, Faun...It may not be within our nature to fight, but with our enemies constantly coming from the north and slowly creeping forth from the Badlands, we will likely make sacrifices to protect ourselves and those we love. I pray that we will be left standing if the worst is to come...So in the name of our Princesses, I salute you, dear soldier. Make our families, friends, neighbors, and homeland proud...
By Sharp Quill, Ph.D. in Cultural Anthropology
Canterlot's University for Gifted Unicorns
Addressed to all members of the Armed Forces of Equestria
For Our Princesses Celestia, Luna, Cadance and Twilight we fight
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Finally, it was done, the final click on the typewriter and all his hard work over the long week was complete: every word, every sentence, every paragraph. Done.
The aged green unicorn slumped back into his seat as he gazed upon the final product with soft, aqua eyes, all typed upon his black rusty typewriter which sat quietly on his wooden desk. The stallion gave a soft sigh as he arched his back, his forelegs soon stretching over his head before a loud yawn followed.
Nearly took him months to gather up the necessary information for this. If given the choice, Sharp Quill have handed an entire thousand-or-more page tome to the generals as the reports, accounts, and tales were many if they were not hidden away.
Knowledge was power as they say, but the knowledge of one of the nation's biggest enemies was more a warning than an advantage. Knowledge he wished he had when he was a young colt, with delusions of grandeur of fighting foreign foes and saving the day each time.
Again he sighed, his weary eyes soon wandered about across his office, noting all the items he gained over his time traveling the world though he was no Daring Do, ranging from simple clay dolls and tribal weapons to colorful tapestries hoof-claw-handmade which hung along the walls of the room.
With a mere thought, his horn glowed, levitating a crude stray doll he had received during an expedition to a village deep within the Mare-A-Zon jungle. Originally he had refused it when it was offered to him by a tiny filly but she was persistent. In the end, the unicorn gave up and now that memory had a special place in his heart.
Each antique summoned forth a wave of memories into his mind, of a time when he had more energy, more pep in his hoofsteps, and of a time when a smile was a constant for him. In those days, he was willing to try the exotic, the unusual, the rare. Almost as much as his first days in the army...Cracking a jokes with his fellow troopers, making fun of their drill sergeant behind her back when she wasn't around...only then to find themselves running a thousand miles around the entire boot camp while the pegasus shrieked orders down at them from the air. Without knowing so, a faint smile began to creep onto his muzzle. Those were the best of times in his younger years, even if they were when he was gifted pain.
However that all ended when his eyes soon fell upon a certain item sealed under a clear glass dome on a stand. The pleasant memories suddenly shattered. The stallion soon felt a lump in his throat as his focus became on the item in question, his right leg suddenly aching painfully as if suddenly cut open by a sharp knife. Grinding his teeth not too hard, Sharp Quill ran a hoof gently along his sore leg, trying to rub off the pain.
Its wicked curve...The deep blackness that colored it well to even stand out in darkness...The hellish ringing of bells in his mind...Suddenly uncomfortable memories soon flooded his mind, his eyes soon shutting tight as he soon clamped his hooves over his head.
"No...Don't think about it...Don't think, don't remember...!" He hissed under his breath, the pain growing more intense with each second. The screams of dying comrades...The heartless laughter...The clashing of blades against armor, shield, and each other...Blood tarnishing the earth and armor...The howling bells, those bells, those damned bells! "No no...No no no no!" He wanted to scream, he could have but no noise escaped from his throat as instead voices from the past soon echoed.
"You...You filthy Equine!! You broke my horn!! You broke my horn!!"
ding....ding...ding...
"Didn't make you appealing before, didn't it?"
ding....ding...ding...
"You horned trash I'll kill you! I'll kill you and offer your heart to the beasts of Tartarus!"
Ding...ding...ding...
"Bring it on, you stupid goat!"
DING...DING...DING...
Quickly he spun away, still massaging his limb until slowly the pain began to fade away after what felt like a nightmarish eternity. With a sigh of relief escaping his breath, the unicorn opened his eyes slowly before looking into a mirror. His eyes looked to be completely bloodshot now, as if he didn't receive any sleep the last night before. The few wrinkles that showed his age now seemed to be larger and many, looking to make him appear older than what he was.
And his whole body now seemed to tremble though he was calm. Another sigh followed. With a stiff groan in his throat, he soon rose out of his seat to stretch once more. Soon he snatched the manuscript from the typewriter and placed them into his bag, quickly packing up for the night as it was now quite late. Sharp Quill exhaled as he began to head for the door, his horn glowing to jingle the needed keys that would let him out. With the insert of the key into the lock and turn of the knob, the door creaked open for the professor.
However he did not move. Instead he turned his head ever so slightly to the case where it stood alone, if listening to its siren song. "If only I knew back then...If only I knew..." He muttered under his breath, sadly shaking his eyes as he left the office, shutting the door behind him to avoid the sight of the Satyr horn he broke off in his youth, a mistake he long wished to take back. As he trotted off back to his home...Deep in the bowels of his mind...a faint sound was made...
Ding...ding...ding...
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"Still pissed about the horn, eh General?" What followed was a stream of short-lived snickers and cackles from the gathered war herd. That ended immediately upon the loud vicious snarl that ran from the larger member.
"Shut it runt...I told you never to speak of it again!" A bestial voice snapped from the titan (or at least titan among them), his red eyes illuminating to the point of looking fiery as he gazed upon his gathered warriors.
"And that goes to the rest of you younghorns!" He barked. Instinctively, the large Satyr ran a claw along a bony stump in which his right horn once gloriously stood. If he ever found that filthy Equine who took away his pride...The commander quickly shook his head to cool down. Now was not the time to look back on old grudges. That should be saved for the battlefield.
The two-hundred neophytes stood firm in formation and held tight to their arms - menacing axes and short blades wielded by most, though few carried long black spears that towered over them. Only a few had managed not to grab any armor or any shields but that would be their mistake to learn. All still bore their short pointed horns, their skulls almost white, dull crimson fur - all signs of their still-present youth. Soon, they would gain true warriorhood in the days to come...
General Ram Horn soon gave a snort as he looked over to his herd, trotting from one side to the other as he examined the ranks for anymore present flaws. None he could find so far...Good. The large violet Satyr slowly turned his head over his shoulder, red eyes falling upon a lone cloaked figure who stood silently the whole time. Deep indigo eyes shined from the darkened cowl as they met the warlord's hues, awaiting for a word or two.
"Lord Grogar...The war herd is ready." Ram Horn soon spoke, his voice laced with respect for the master of their entire species, the one who rallied them with the hated of their enemies. Silence came first as the hooded Satyr gazed to the troops, then to the general before back again.
"Mmmm...Most excellent General..." A raspy voice cooed from under the hood, the faint ringing of a bell present.
"I now suppose I should...address the troops, as they say." Grogar soon chuckled, the sound coming out more of a dry croak than actual laughter. Ram Horn stood quiet in response but soon gave a bow.
"They await to hear your command, milord..." Ram Horn rumbled. Soon the younghorns would taste their first drip of fresh blood, the land scorched in fire and death, and the nations of the Equines...would be no more but ash crushed under their hooves.
And then the bells of Tambelon would ring across the lands.
Ding...ding...ding...