//------------------------------// // A New Threat // Story: The Great War // by RandomPerson //------------------------------// November 22nd Masduulaagii Mountain Range The steady rhythm of hoof falls shook the ground as thousands of Saddle Arabian troops marched in columns, lead by their Gryphon superiors. Though they acted more as commandos, they were ideal guides with their keen eyesight. Many of the Saddle Arabian combatants were weary from constantly being on the move, however, they knew they could not stop lest they give the fleeing Zebricans time to regroup. Saddle Arabia was achieving victory faster than they ever thought possible, their forces had only a single range of mountains between them and securing half of the entire Zebrican nation in almost less than a month. These mountains were known to the Zebricans as the home of the “winged beast”, ancient creatures that would keep Zebrica from harm. Though many believed it to be nothing more than a legend, some believed these beasts were actually desert dragons, long thought to be extinct after they were hunted for their scales which were used for jewelry and other tribal uses thousands of years before. Nonetheless, not many thought it any more than an obstacle that they must pass if they were to achieve ultimate victory. As the columns reached the foot of the mountain pass, they were suddenly ordered to halt by one of the Gryphon officers in the lead. Zephyr, a young Gryophonian Captain, had noticed a strange, droning noise, nearly drowned out by the crunch of hardened rock and sand against hoof and talon. “You three, with me!” He motioned to several Gryphons amongst the hundred assigned to this group of Saddle Arabians before spreading his wings and flying onward. He was soon closely followed by the soldiers he had chosen as he flew to the nearest slope in the mountain range. A very unnatural noise echoed louder and louder as they drew closer, drawing Zephyr’s curiosity even further. Suddenly, the noise grew into a roar as nearly twenty strange flying aircraft swung into view from behind the mountain face. Zephyr and his men stopped immediately, staring in shock at the beast. They did not look living at all. With three sets of wings and what looked to be entirely made of wood, these machines sped towards them at an alarming rate. Zephyr hadn’t a moment to think as the crack of Human combustion weapons tore through the air. One of his soldiers was immediately hit in the chest, crumpling up around the wound as he fell to the Earth below. Zephyr turned and tried to flee, unsure of what to do against these seemingly impossible aircraft. More gunfire tore past him, several bullets littering the body of the second soldier before a single round caught Zephyr in the wing. Immense pain racked his body as he lost his ability to fly, plummeting towards the ground. He flapped his good wing with all his strength, desperately trying to at least cushion the inevitable impact. He hit the ground with a sickening crunch, going out like a light. The birds of prey dove on their unsuspecting victims, machine guns blazing as they strafed the Saddle Arabians ranks. The Gryphon reserves took flight, attempting to engage the deadly human machines. As each pilot completed his pass, a second crewman downed any pursuing Gryphons. More and more were cut down as the Saddle Arabians frantically moved into their defensive formations, useless against their technologically superior foes. The soldiers morale began to falter. With two of their three commanding officers dead, their Gryphon shock troops scattered and outmatched, and nearly a quarter of their ranks obliterated, their feelings of pride and victory were quickly replaced with fear and self-preservation. Many began to break away from the columns to flee. After barely ten minutes, nothing alive could be seen on the ground by the pilots above. The desert sand ran red with blood as bodies littered the ground, the roar of their engines were now all that could be heard in the desolate waste.Their mission completed, the pilots signalled each other to regroup, turning to pass back over the mountain where they would refuel and return for more of their enemies blood, leaving those dead already to be swallowed up by the ocean of sand. ~~~ Human soldiers lined the docks. Some were armed and some were helping the Zebrican workers unload smaller crates off the large ship that had made port no less than an hour ago. Hundreds of them came off the boat, all marked Ordnance, though some had a chemical warning labels stamped on them as well. Soon, a large metal ramp was let down from the ship’s starboard side, as the fiercest weaponry the Human arsenal had to offer was unloaded onto the deck below. Twenty, six inch field guns were wheeled off the ship. Though they were old, they were far superior to anything Zebrica had ever used in the history of their military. The Human Republic had one ally in this war, and they were not about to let them fall. The crates were moved onto trucks brought in by an earlier shipment, and as the docked vessel began to leave port, two more could be seen on the horizon. The Saddle Arabians would soon come face to face with the greatest military power the world had ever known. ~~~ November 25th Canterlot Castle Celestia sat on her throne, reading the letter before her for what had to be the fifth time. The day she had feared had finally come. Before her was a message from none other than Empress Brynja, practically begging for her help. ‘To the High Queen of Equestria, Celestia.’ Not even two lines in and Brynja was already trying to appeal to her with flattery. ‘To my great shame, it seems I was wrong about the Humans. Their rapid advances into Gryphon territory were unexpected, and for every mile we retake they close in by five more. That is why I humbly ask for your assistance. The Humans are brutal in their advance, burning everything in their path, forcing my citizens into the harsh winter. With my military doing everything they can to halt their campaign, I've begun to fear for the well-being of my citizens. Reports from the fronts say that they execute anyone who does not comply with their orders to vacate occupied territory. My Generals tell me they will soon reach Stavanger, and without its grain stocks hundreds of thousands of Gryphons will not survive the winter. I perceived an alliance with the Saddle Arabians would stretch the Human armies thin enough to push them back on both fronts, but I was wrong again. My intention was to stop the Humans poisoning of our planet with their cancerous industrialization, and I fear if their advance continues it will only grow worse. Smog from their factories will blot out the Sun itself before our nation's next generation are even conceived, and if they grow bold enough, I fear there ambition will become insatiable. The Humans present a danger to our world unlike any other before. Princess Celestia, it is imperative that you join me in stopping the Humans warmongering. The future of our world depends on it. -Empress Brynja Goldenbeak Finally setting the letter down, Celestia stared silently at the floor. She had never desired any of this, she had tried to keep the world from devolving to such brutish practices, but their hatred had grown too strong. War had been inevitable, it was always...inevitable. Now war was standing on the doorstep of Equestria, and she had no idea who to side with. While she wanted nothing to do with Brynja after what she had caused, she could be right in her instincts about the Humans intentions. Their ambition was already evident in their swift rise to the global stage, they grew with such haste, it was a miracle they could even keep up with themselves. Even after this, she couldn’t bring herself to ally with the Humans. Gryphonia and Equestria had been allies even before her time, back when both nations were just tribes divided amongst themselves. Going to war against them would cause severe upheaval throughout the nation, not to mention an economic fallout.Trade was very strong between Gryphonia and Equestria, even while they lost ground to the Humans, thousands of pounds of Equestrian goods were sent over the border to high paying Gryphon nobility. ‘Brynja must have a very intuitive propaganda office if things are as bad as she says.’ Celestia thought to herself. Days of discussion between Luna and herself followed over the matter, trying to think of every possible way they could come out of this without any bloodshed. After finally reaching a decision, Celestia sat at her desk, quill rapidly scribbling across the piece of parchment that lay before her. Quickly rolling it up and marking it with her seal, she called for the castle courier. “Take this to Captain Aegis. Tell her it is to be distributed to all border guard stations along the Gryphon-Human line.” “Yes, Princess.” He quickly bowed, taking the scroll and leaving with haste. Taking another from the stack on her desk, Celestia unrolled a second parchment, dipping her quill in ink. ‘To her esteemed Empress, Brynja Goldenbeak...’ She began to write. ~~~ December 10th Stavanger, Gryphonia “Incoming!” An iron cannonball whistled through the air as it smashed through brick and mortar, sending thousands of tiny pieces plinking off the helmets of the soldiers below. Stavanger, the second largest city in all of Gryphonia and distributor of almost eighty-five percent of all food stocks to the rest of the country, was in shambles. Three days before, Human artillery had began to shell the city while infantry engaged the city’s first line of defense, an entire division of Gryphon Praetorian Guard. Essentially the city’s private army. It had almost come to a standstill. The Human military had suffered the worst losses since the start of the conflict. While the Praetorian had eventually been beaten down by the night of the second day, two-thirds of the initial attack force that had been sent in were either dead or severely wounded. While having the upper hand, the decision was made to hold back under the cover of artillery while they waited for the 4th and 5th Infantry Brigades to reinforce them. On the fourth day, the barrage ceased. And moving like a juggernaut, Human Infantry flooded the streets. In all truth, the days of artillery fire might have done more bad than good for the men. Stavanger was a very tightly knit city, and with mountains of rubble down every other roadway, movement was not the easiest of task. The bitter cold and streets covered with inches of snow and ice proved a formidable obstacle for the advance forces as well. “Fucking ‘ell!” Sergeant Ingram shouted over the crack of not so distant cannon fire. “Where have those things been this whole time?! I ain’t seen nothing that size fightin’ these bastards all the way here!” Another volley smashed through the second story of a large building, dropping large chunks of rubble onto several unfortunate soldiers beneath it. The Praetorian had essentially turned the center of the city into a fortress. Large mansions and government buildings were bottlenecked with the streets ahead of them being blocked off by rubble. “It’d be a hell of a lot easier to move if we could get some goddam arty on that thing!” Richard shouted. “Raymund, find me a runner!” Staff Sergeant Connor shouted back to them. “Yes, sir!” He turned and began to run back down the roadway, looking for a messenger. “Kurt! I need you up on that building.” A large three-story inn stood at the end of the street, most of its roof and third floor wall having been blown away by the hail of cannon fire. He handed Kurt a pair of binoculars, a small notepad and a map of the city and surrounding area. “Get up and there and find those gun crews a target, we’ll cover!” “Yes, sir!” Kurt set the machine gun he carried on his shoulders aside, grabbing the equipment and scrambling over the rubble that littered the streets. He heard a chorus of rifle fire crack behind him as a few brave Gryphons poked their heads out with crossbows drawn. Quickly ducking into the inn, he pulled his bayonet from its sheath, carefully making his way up the stairs. Surprisingly, there were no Gryphons waiting on the upper floors to gut him. He slowly slid up the edge of the blown apart wall, peeking over to see if it was safe. He couldn’t see any more of the Praetorian taking potshots with their crossbows, so he brought the binoculars up to his eyes, focusing them on the cobbled together fortification. With the map spread out on the floor, he began to scribble down the most accurate coordinates he could, wanting to get out of this leaning death trap of a building as soon as possible. With the direction and elevation he needed, he pulled together his equipment and took off back down the stairs....smashing right into a Praetorian. They both tumbled down the staircase, swinging and clawing at each other all the way down. Kurt heard his bayonet falling down past him, clinking across the floor several times. He knew he had no chance going one on one with a Praetorian, especially in this close of quarters. Grabbing the binoculars, he swung as hard as he could, smashing them right into the Gryphon’s eye. He then kicked it square in the chest, sending it reeling back several feet. Pushing himself to his feet he sprinted for the door and out into the street, clutching the map and notepad tightly. His head was spinning, having banged it several times against the stone steps on the way down. He stumbled a bit, looking up to see his squad peeking over the rubble. He was only a few feet from them when he saw Sergeant Connor raise his rifle, looking past him. Before even turning his head to look back, excruciating pain shot through his neck as a crossbow bolt buried itself in his neck, dropping him like a rock. Everything seemed dulled, the voices around him sounded like they were underwater. He didn’t feel anything as he fell flat, vaguely noticing the other hands grabbing him and pulling him to safety as Normann’s shaky hands tried desperately to stop the bleeding. As his vision began to blur, he felt the notepad slipping out of his hand. While several others from his squad crowded around trying to help, he weakly pushed it into Connor’s open palms, coughing several times before he blacked out. ~~~ December 11th Occupied-Stavanger, Gryphonia Pillars of smoke rose out of the city, going up for miles. Grain stocks, excess meat or vegetables, anything that couldn’t be captured and used for themselves, the Humans burned. Many men stood in the streets bearing sledgehammers, smashing enemy helmets and chest plates flat to be shipped back to the Republic and melted down, perhaps even to be reused against their makers. The few Praetorian that had surrendered were marched at gunpoint to a makeshift POW camp, until proper transport could be brought in to ship them to an actual facility. In the center of Stavanger, where the once tall and proud Gryphonian architecture stood, soldiers tore through rubble and wreck, looking for any important documents, maps, or messages that hadn’t been destroyed. Among them was Sergeant Ingram. He checked the bodies of dead Gryphon officers, emptying any bags they had on them while also checking any desk or drawer they might have died near. His search of room after room yielding nothing, he prepared to turn and leave when a shimmer caught his eye. Barely poking out from under a fallen piece of stone, the edge of a piece of parchment poked out from the rubble. As he gazed at it, he noticed the glint was emanating from a seal that hung from the tattered page. The seal of the Empress. Quickly pressing his bayonet under the stone, he lifted it up just enough that he could grab the document in question. It was a bit ripped, and covered in dust, but it was still legible. Holding it up, his eyes scanned across the parchment. As the words were read off the sheet, he almost dropped it in shock. Rolling it up quickly, he sprinted out of the room to find the Staff Sergeant. ~~~ December 12th Human Republic, Capital Building The room was dead silent. Schmidt sat at his desk, his eyes glued to the telegram that had just been given to him. Across from him sat General Corvus, a copy of the same message in his gloved hands. Both of them seemed to be studying the message, as if looking for a sign that what they held was not real. Schmidt finally broke the silence, sighing deeply as he picked up the piece of paper, adjusting his glasses. ‘To her esteemed Empress, Brynja Goldenbeak’ He read aloud, as if meaning to prove a point. ‘It has come to my attention that the threat of Human expansion is far more real than I thought. I fear you were correct in your assumptions that the Republic have been seeking a scapegoat to start a conflict for a long while, and now that they have their industry born bravado backed by victory, they will not stop until all they want is under their control. It is with such a threat that I wholeheartedly commit to the cause of stopping their industrialist aggression, and the poisoning of our world. We will join you.’ Setting the paper down he looked up the Corvus and removed his glasses. “I told you this day would come General. Our prosper has made others envious of us, they want to destroy everything we’ve strived to build. They think we’re dangerous, that we shouldn’t be in control of our own destiny!” He banged his fist on the desk. “This is why we needed the draft, Corvus! With our reserves fighting in Zebrica, we would have had no defense against an Equestrian invasion! Now with freshly trained men, we can finish this petty war in Gryphonia and show Celestia how powerful we really are. If she wants to fight, we’ll be damn sure to provide!” Corvus said nothing. He merely stood, tucking his copy of the telegram back into the leather folder and saluted. “I understand, Sir. I will begin deployment preparations immediately.” He turned, slowly striding out the door. Schmidt sank into his seat, running his fingers through his graying hair. “Now...” He spoke to himself. “To announce to the nation their underaged sons are off to face one of the strongest nation’s in the world...” ~~~