//------------------------------// // Chapter 8 // Story: The Griffin War // by QuarterNote //------------------------------// Thirty sets of hooves hammered the gravel path as the platoon of ponies rode toward the earthen redoubt that guarded the Germaneic camp from the southern side. Large piles of heaped dirt reared before them as they clattered to a halt, a large number of wooden stakes poking out at them in a menacing manner. The ponies that walked the wooden palisade on top of the mounds of earth were alert and focused on them, a number of crossbows and spears poking over the wooden ramparts down at the group. “Hold there,” said one of the guards as the hastily erected gate opened to admit him. “State your name and business.” The leader of the newcomers smiled disarmingly at the guard. His blue eyes seemed filled with laughter, but not of a happy sort. His eyes would reveal him as the sort of pony that would laugh as he killed an enemy, sharp like steel and cold like ice. His charcoal gray fur and black mane would have marked him as suspicious. Would have, if not for the blue, spread-winged falcon emblazoned on his chestplate, as well as the chestplates of his fellows. The guard’s eyebrows rose and he quickly backed out of the way, bowing. “My apologies, sirs. I didn’t see your emblem at first.” “It’s all right,” the lead pony said. “I am Bright Blade of the Order of the Watchers. The Grand Master has sent us here to aid the army.” “Any help from the Watchers is welcome,” the guard replied, nodding vigorously. “If you will follow me, sirs, I will escort you to Lord Iron Ore’s tent. He’s in command of the army.” “That would be most welcome,” Bright Blade replied, nodding. As the guard turned around and led the group into the camp, Bright Blade dismissed his fellows with nods of his head. The other Watchers split off into small groups, going off to get a bite to eat, patch up their weapons and armor, or merely check around the camp. As they did that, Bright Blade got a good look at the place himself. The Germaneic camp was extremely busy, even though there seemed to be no sign of impending battle. Blacksmiths’ hammers clanged as their wielders made and repaired weapons. Groups of hooves stomped the ground in unison as companies drilled. Arrows sang through the air as their owners fired them at griffin-shaped targets. Weapons clashed and clanged against each other in mock battle. The air was filled with constant chatter, pegasus messengers flying to and fro. Finally, Bright Blade and his escort came to Iron Ore’s command tent. It was a lozenge-shaped structure, guarded by a quartet of earth ponies. Two banners flanked the entrance: One depicting the sword-in-a-stone-on-a-black-field emblem of Iron Ore’s province, the other the black-on-yellow crowned stag of Germaneigh proper. One of the guards opened the tent flap, allowing Bright Blade to look inside. The tent consisted of a large, square table, upon which was a map of the area. Tapestries and pennants hung from the tent’s walls, and the furs of various animals decorated the numerous benches and chairs. Around the table were at least fifteen other ponies of various races, including one unicorn whose gold-and-white, antler-emblazoned plate armor marked him out as a member of the Church of the White Stag’s military arm, the Order of the Forest. The tent was filled with subdued mutterings as the commanders anxiously discussed the situation. All talk quieted and a large, grizzled earth pony stallion colored sky blue with a messy green mane looked up as Bright Blade entered. “Ah. Watcher Bright Blade, I presume?” “You would presume correctly, Lord Ore.” Bright Blade replied, entering and walking over to the table, looking down at the map and the various blocks and flags placed in various locations on it. “What’s the situation at present?” “The strategic situation is this,” Iron Ore said as he tapped the map with one hoof. “The griffins invaded from the southeast, through Blackhoof Pass. They’ve managed to go through the outer provinces pretty easily…though that’s mostly because they’re being joined by our own ponies.” “Joined?” Bright Blade asked, his eyebrows rising. “Yes,” Iron Ore replied. “The Lords of Hoofton, Rusha, and Stepparn have all pledged their loyalty to King Aeris. The other lords in the area attempted to hold out against the griffins, but they were all overwhelmed.” Bright Blade nodded as he drank in the information. The three provinces that had defected to the griffin’s side were three of the largest in the outer areas of Germaneigh. The fertile land and large population of all three combined gave the griffins a formidable force in their corner. “Do we know why the lords there defected?” “I think you know that very well, Master Watcher,” Iron Ore replied. As much as Bright Blade hated to admit it, it was true. One thing that he would voluntarily concede to Germaneigh’s Prancer neighbors was that their king was younger, stronger, and more well-liked. While Shining Star had the loyalty of every noble in his nation, King Earth Shaker was old and frail, and had grown increasingly short with his nobles over the years as his age caught up with him. While the vast majority of Germaneigh was still loyal to him, a number of lords, both inner and outer, were likely to pledge their fealty to the Griffin Kingdoms. “So, how many ponies does that give the griffins?” he asked. “Around five thousand,” Iron Ore replied. “They’ve split their army in two in order to continue campaigning in the outer provinces, but even so we’ll be hard pressed to fend them off here. Scouts estimate that the army is around thirty-five thousand strong, so that means that there will be around seventeen and a half thousand coming at us.” “How many soldiers are here?” Bright Blade asked. “On such short notice we were only able to put together eight thousand,” Iron Ore replied grimly. “We have reinforcements coming from the heartlands, but it will be several days before they get here. Lord Autumnbark has also pledged his support, but it’ll be a full week for them to be able to get here.” Bright Blade nodded, pressing his lips together before sighing. “Well that’s something, at least…” “Though we do have one advantage,” Iron Ore continued. “The terrain is in our favor.” Bright Blade nodded. The pass into the inner provinces that the army was currently guarding was home to an old Germaneic fortress, one that had served Germaneigh well during many of its wars with Prance. It had been heavily damaged over time, but it was still functional. Adding the fortress itself to the extensive earthworks in the place, and the Germaneic army was in a good position. A soldier entered the tent behind Bright Blade, looking at Iron Ore. “My lord, scouts have spotted the griffins approaching.” Iron Ore nodded. “Sound the assembly call. I’ll be out momentarily.” The soldier saluted and ran out of the tent, and Iron Ore looked around at the other officers. “Well my friends, we have a battle to fight. Good luck to all of you. The White Stag be with us all.” With that, the tent emptied. *** Lord Rainstorm of the Griffin Kingdoms looked out over his army from a small cliff. It was more ragtag than he would have liked, ponies mixed in with dogs and griffins. Not that he was complaining. Due to the treachery of the three lords, the army was even more massive than it had been when it first arrived. His scouts had reported that the Germaneic army that waited in the pass was far smaller than theirs. He grinned to himself, anticipating the slaughter. “Lord Rainstorm!” a voice called from nearby. Raincloud looked up at the trees surrounding the cliff, spotting a griffin clad in the livery of the Royal Courier Service. “I have a message for you from the king!” Raincloud nodded and beckoned, the courier flying down and landing next to him, presenting him with a rolled-up scroll, tied shut by black ribbon with the Kingdoms’ symbol emblazoned on it. Raincloud slit the ribbon with a claw and unfurled the scroll, his blue eyes scanning the paper back and forth as he read its contents. Finishing, he rolled it shut again. “Hm. Blackwing’s already taken Canterlot. Interesting.” He looked back at the courier. “Tell the king that I am about to penetrate into Germaneigh’s inner provinces.” “Yes milord,” the courier said, saluting before taking off again. Rainstorm watched him go for a moment before turning and walking down the cliff, over to the temporary camp where the army’s officers were gathered. At the moment the map that they were poring over had their forces in battle array. Rainstorm could hear them debating over how to conduct the actual battle. “I say that we should focus on the fortress first. Send our griffins up there to attack it, and once that’s done we can hit them from both sides.” “Which would weaken our forces on the ground by robbing them of aerial support,” said another officer, folding his arms over his chest as he glared at the first speaker across the table. “Oh come on!” groaned a third officer. “They’ve divided their army in half covering both areas. All we would have to do is just bum-rush them with the ground forces and overwhelm them through numbers.” “Against an enemy in entrenched positions in a narrow pass?” asked a fourth. “They’d be slaughtered.” All talking stopped as the officers finally noticed Rainstorm standing there. The griffin walked over to the map, moving the blocks that represented the pony and dog portions of the army. “Form the pony and dog companies into battle array and have them attack, and keep half of our griffins hidden. Put them up in the clouds, where they can’t be seen and keep the rest with the main army to distract their pegasi. Once the Germaneic forces are fully committed, bring the hidden half of the griffin companies around their rear. That is the plan.” None of the other griffins protested. Rainstorm had a reputation for not liking to have his plans questioned. The griffin lord looked at his subordinates. “See to your commands.” The griffins scattered immediately, going to the companies under their commands in order to prepare for battle. Rainstorm spread his wings and took off, flying up to the top of one of the nearby trees in order to look out over the battle area. The Germaneic fortress loomed in the distance, a massive white sentinel looking out over the valley that it guarded. The tall cliffs that protected it from conventional ground assault stood tall and proud, as if in defiance of the griffin army. “This will be fun,” he muttered to himself, smirking. *** The sky was darkening with the onset of night as the Germaneic army stood in battle formation outside the pass. Torches had been lit and placed among the earthworks, ponies lined up by divisions and roles as they waited for the griffins to appear. War dogs, muscular and fierce with their sharp white teeth glinting in the rising moonlight, stood among the ponies, their handlers keeping them in check until the time came. Here and there was a priest of the Church of the White Stag, walking slowly along the line with an incense burner swinging back and forth in front of them, fragrant smoke gently curling from the hole in the burner’s top as the priests murmured prayers for safety and victory, many soldiers augmenting the sound with prayers of their own. Bright Blade and Iron Ore stood on a small rise, most of Iron Ore’s bodyguard gathered around them. Bright Blade looked over the army, his eyes picking out each of the Watchers that he had brought to the battle. Instead of all being concentrated into one group, the Watchers were scattered among the army so as to best divide their considerable martial skill evenly on the field. Iron Ore looked up as a pegasus scout flew down and hovered in front of the group, his wings flapping to keep himself aloft. “They come now, milord.” “Good,” Iron Ore breathed as he looked away from the scout and towards the tree line. “It will begin soon, then.” He looked at Bright Blade. “Are your troops ready, Master Watcher?” “They are,” Bright Blade said. Iron Ore nodded, turning his head back to the forest. Bright Blade cocked one ear as a priestpony passed by the hill. He could hear the earnest prayer whispered by the unicorn, asking for guidance, strength, and skill from the White Stag to lead the army to victory. “Torches!” called a lookout suddenly. Bright Blade looked back towards the forest. A bright orange light was starting to make its way through the trees, and the sounds of marching hooves and paws were beginning to reach his ears. “Steady!” Iron Ore called to his troops. “Pegasi, lift off!” He turned to a messenger pegasus. “Inform the fortress detachment to be ready.” “Yes, milord,” the pegasus said hurriedly before spreading his wings and taking off, flying up to the fortress as the rest of the pegasus soldiers in the army took flight, the sound of flapping wings drowning out the steadily-increasing noise of marching hooves and feet. There were a number of archers stationed up at the fortress, as well as footponies to protect the encampment against the griffins. The griffin army began to emerge from the trees. They stopped a short distance out of the trees, a long unbroken line of ponies and dogs. Griffins hovered in place above the trees, waiting for the word to charge. The Germaneic army tensed up, many whispering a last, desperate prayer as they readied their weapons and stared across the field at the griffins. Bright Blade saw one soldier attempt to back up, only to feel a sword blade pressed against his haunches as a Watcher pressed the flat of his sword against the earth pony’s rump. *** Rainstorm walked out through a gap between two of the army’s companies, moving onto a small hillock as he looked at the Germaneic army awaiting them. He smiled thinly, drawing his sword and raising it into the sky. The ponies and dogs around him tensed, crouching as they got ready to charge. Rainstorm chuckled. “Let the games begin,” he muttered before dropping the sword, pointing it at the enemy. A loud roar went up from the assembled army as it surged forward like a tidal wave of fur and muscle, hooves and paws pounding the grass and the army’s collective roar echoing off of the cliffs to add to the noise. *** “So it begins,” Iron Ore whispered as he watched the griffin army get closer. He turned his head downward, towards the army. “Archers!” “ARCHERS!” came the repetition. Unicorns, their bows wrapped in shimmering magical auras, nocked arrows to string and pulled them back. “FIRE!” A storm of shafts flew into the sky, filling the air with a whirring drone as they flew upward, their momentum running out and sending them falling down towards the enemy. Dogs and ponies screamed and fell as the arrows landed among them, followed closely by a second volley, and a third. “Hounds!” Iron Ore bellowed next. Germaneic war hounds barked and snarled as their handlers slipped their leashes, sending several dozen of the animals charging forward towards the enemy. They crashed headlong into the front ranks, biting and snapping as they tore at the dogs and ponies that had had the misfortune to be their victims. Swords flashed and dogs whimpered in agony as other soldiers either killed the dogs before they could reach their targets or slashed them with their weapons as they savaged other soldiers. Iron Ore reared up on his hind legs, bellowing his last command to the entire army. “FOOOOOOOOORWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARD!” Germaneic ponies roared and screamed as they charged forward, their hooves trampling the grass flat as they charged straight for the griffin army. Iron Ore and Bright Blade drew their swords and charged down the slope of the hill to mingle with the army, followed closely by Iron Ore’s bodyguards. Pegasi shot forward overhead, their war cries mingling with those of their landbound countryponies as they charged the griffins that flew over their own army. The two sides met in a clash of metal and muscle, blood flying into the air along with screams and roars as the armies came together. Bodies were thrown over shields or borne backward as they were impaled on spears, weapons clashing together with terrific rings of steel on steel or with a solid thunk as a blade clashed with the solid wood of a shield. Cries of “Traitors!” and “Featherwhores!” made their own mark on the air as loyally Germaneic ponies clashed with their traitorous former comrades. Griffins and pegasi whirled through the air or fell like stones as they fought and died above the main battle. Swarms of arrows shot through the sky from either side, screams and shrieks of pain accompanying their impacts. Griffins that bypassed the main battle with the pegasi flew over the battle before diving towards the bridge that connected the two different sides of the fortress to one another across the pass. The archers stationed there fired one volley that sent griffins tumbling from the sky in droves before drawing their swords as the griffins landed on the bridge, the clashing of weapons echoing off of the ancient, crumbling walls of the fortress and growing louder and more widespread as other griffins made landings in other parts of the fort, fighting with the ponies standing guard there. A horn suddenly sounded from the left flank of the griffin army, a high, clear “DA-DA DA-DA DA-DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” as a company of heavy hoofponies charged screaming from the forests, the banner of Germaneigh waving high and proud among them and their thick plate armor, massive rectangular shields, and long maces glinting in the moonlight as they smashed into the whirling melee of dogs, ponies, and griffins. The ferocity of the charge allowed them to drive deep into the griffin army, their maces smashing and crushing as they drove deep into the maelstrom of battle. The griffin forces were driven back momentarily, fighting and falling as they were forced back to the tree line step by step. The sounds of a number of crossbows firing put paid to any Germaneic thoughts of a quick victory as bolts streaked from the trees to find marks among the hoofponies, the high-torsion projectiles easily puncturing their armor and sending them tumbling to the ground, screaming. The griffin forces, emboldened by this success, rallied and drove forward, reversing the direction of the now quickly retreating Germaneic forces. That was when Rainstorm’s trap closed into place. The second half of the griffin corps that had been deliberately held back from the main battle dropped out of the clouds, screaming for blood as they cut through the ongoing aerial battle to land between the Germaneic earthworks and the Germaneic army itself. The griffins charged into the fray, their flanks quickly enfolding themselves around the now-surrounded Germaneic army. The trapped ponies fought desperately as they were pressed into a tighter and tighter cluster, the army frothing and boiling like a cauldron. “Rally to me!” Iron Ore shouted as he galloped through the ponies. “Rally to meeeeeee!” The Germaneic army followed him, and they hurled their full strength against the griffins guarding the pass. Not nearly as numerous as their fellows on the opposite side of their formerly-trapped foe, the griffin corps scattered like ashes as the ponies smashed through them like a rock through a window, driving them away as the Germaneic forces moved back into the pass, not stopping. “Pull back!” Iron Ore cried as the griffin army vengefully pursued them, a number of ponies turning to fight a rearguard action in the narrowest part of the pass, arrows singing and swords flashing, spears thrusting and axes swinging. The griffin army continued pressing forward, now also besieging the Germaneic forces from above as the griffins that had gained the bridge began firing arrows down into their ranks. “PULL BACK!” Iron Ore bellowed over the sound of battle. Ponies began to break off from the battle and run, galloping as fast as their legs could carry them as they retreated. The rearguard ponies launched a desperate charge that drove the griffins back to the mouth of the pass, a number of unicorns sending massive blasts of fire from their horns to block the pass entirely as they turned and galloped away as well. Far away from the main battle, Rainstorm smirked. “Just as planned,” he said, satisfied. *** A few hours later, Rainstorm stood with his officers as they gave him their reports. “The dogs and ponies took significant losses, milord,” said one. “Around fifteen hundred ponies and four thousand dogs. Griffin casualties were a bit lighter, around two thousand altogether.” “So not as bad as it could have been,” Rainstorm mused. “Do we have casualty estimates on the enemy?” “Around five and a half thousand, milord.” Rainstorm grinned. “Good. Send a courier back to the Tower with a message. Write that we have defeated a Germaneic army and are consolidating our forces. Ask for reinforcements as well.” “Yes, milord,” one officer replied, bowing and taking off to go back to the camp to find a messenger. “The rest of you, order the troops to set up camp, then collect the dead for their last rites. Burn the Germaneic fallen. Set a watch on the fortress as well. I don’t want to be caught by a counterattack in the night.” The other officers nodded, then took off to follow their lord’s orders.