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// The March 
// Story: Blind rage. 
// by JT 
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All around was the sound of marching. Warcries filled the air. Promises and oaths of blood and fury were spewed out of the mass of black plates, swords, and spears. This force was bloodthirsty, and would slay everything in its way.
At its head was the one who would lead them to victory.

Dressed in a thick armor plating of the blackest color possible. Marched an indomitable figure. The figure raised a massive sword in one hand and the horde screamed and roared with all the bloodlust it could muster. The figure's armor embraced his body, leaving almost no skin exposed. Lines with the purpose of draining foreign blood criss crossed among it. Litanies and seals of honor, revenge, and sacrifice adorned the figure.
The helmet was domed, with black horns coming out of the top, and a narrow slit cut in the helmet.

The figure dropped the sword, and the horde charged. Eager to meet the opposing army, gold and silver flashing amongst the enemies ranks, easily picking out their officer's.

The armies clashed and the slaughter began. Black plate clashed against gold plate. Blade crossed blade, and the screams of the dying sounded in the air.

The battle raged for hours. And the earth wept the blood of the fallen. The horde had cut through the golden army, and their officers were taken prisoner, to be made examples for all those who opposed the Figure.

The Shadow of death had fallen on Equestria.