Chapter 11: Crucible
Needles of freezing raw terror threatened to choke Trixie’s mind as the first ursan heaved its overwhelming bulk over the top of the palisade. It had used its claws to haul itself bodily up the wooden wall, smashing past sharpened stakes, ignoring the deep gouging wounds the stakes carved into it, coating its body slick with blood. The beast raised its massive head right in front of Trixie, its jaws already open in a roar that shook her skull, its hot breath blowing back her mane. Her mind almost went blank, but the link of magic in her horn that connected her to the arcane matrix of her team was like a sharp, scalding splash of water that melted the cold fear just enough for Trixie to maintain her focus.
Power snapped through her, magic pouring from her horn into the array of magic that Battering Ram, Wine Taster, and herself had already been using to charge up a bolt of lightning. Even as the ursan lunged for Trixie, Battering Ram directed the power of their array and the world turned pure white for an instant, an electric thunder ringing Trixie’s ears as the raw current of lightning shot like a blinding spear into the ursan’s face.
Its roar of rage transmuted horribly into a twisted howl of pain, and Trixie could see the fur sizzling off of its face, charring flesh black. One of its eyes bulged grotesquely and popped like a small, dark plumb, like the kind Trixie used to eat when she went to the park with her mother. Trixie never intended to eat another plumb again, now.
With a meaty crash the ursan’s body fell back, smashing towards the ground below and knocking another ursan off from its own ascent up the wall, creating a brief domino affect among the ursans scrambling to get to the palisade. Yet that didn’t slow the wave, the undulating, roaring mass of ursans that assaulted Beartrap Fortress.
The walls, the very ground beneath Trixie’s hooves were constantly shaking. Some ursans weren’t even bothering to try climbing, but instead were smashing their bodies into the wall itself, taking turns like some insane conga line of death to ram the logs of the palisade. What terrified Trixie was that, in one or two places, this tactic had already succeeded in cracking the log beams. How much longer before the monsters smashed a clean hole through the palisade itself!? The gate was faring little better, holding fast against a press of ursans ramming into it. Bodies littered the field, an unending hail of crossbow bolts pelting the ursans, in many cases leaving the beasts looking like mad, giant porcupines. The mud around the fort was turning into a red slurry with blood, but the ursans just kept coming.
“Coming through! Watch it!” came a shout and Trixie ducked her head as a group of pegasi flew overhead, divebombing the ursans still trying to climb the wall. The pegasi had gotten into the fight… how long ago now? Trixie’s sense of time had become utterly fragmented. Had it been minutes or hours since the ursans first charged? She was so tired, and there was no moon in the sky to gain a sense of the passage of time. It felt like she’d already been fighting for an eternity, her muscles screaming, her face slick with sweat.
The pegasi dove, spears flashing. Their spear tips grazed or stuck deep into ursan flesh, then the pegasi pulled up from their dive, swooping up into the sky once more. They flew in squads of five, all working in tandem to kill or wound single ursans as the opportunity arose. Trixie couldn’t see Blossomforth among them, but knew she had to be out there. She had to be, because Trixie couldn’t let herself think of her friend being dead. But that fear boiled like acid in her stomach as well. The pegasi had taken plenty of casualties so far. Trixie felt wretched every time one pegasus mistimed his or her spear thrust, either losing balance because of a bad angle and crashing to the ground, or getting clipped by one of those horrible lobber stones. If a pegasus hit the ground they had mere seconds before the ursans would be upon them, tearing and ripping until nothing was left by bloody feathers and pieces of unrecognizable flesh. The screams echoed in Trixie’s ears each time it’d happened.
It helped her stay angry, and focus on that anger, and keep her magic flowing.
Battering Ram drew more on their array, charging up another bolt of lightning. The crackling blue electric energy buzzed in a tight sphere above their heads, threads of magic from all three of them feeding it.
“Steady,” said Battering Ram, sweat pouring from his own face, “Let’s thin them out by the gate this time.”
The thrum of magic built to a near unbearable crescendo, until Trixie feared the electricity would become unstable and turn them into black, dead husks. Then at the last moment before it felt like they were about to lose control Battering Ram sent the bolt crashing down into the ursans battering the gate. The bolt hit with enough force to send up a shower of dirt and at least two ursans went sprawling, their fur sticking out at all angles as arcs of electricity played over their bodies.
A hammer of exhaustion rammed into Trixie’s gut and she had to fall to one knee, panting profusely and shaking her head, “H-how… how many… more can there be…?”
“Plenty,” said Batter Ram, looking as if he was barely keeping on his hooves, “Doesn't matter. We keep going. Keep fighting. Until-“
Trixie didn’t get to find out until what, because at that moment another ursan reached the top of the palisade, moving so fast it was hauling half its body over the wood stakes, smashing them like toothpicks. It swiped wildly with one paw, and Battering Ram turned his head just in time to have his throat ripped open so deeply that he was nearly decapitated entirely. Blood splashed everywhere, a dark red blooming flower. The warm wetness washed across Trixie’s face and she barely had time to scream as the ursan turned towards her and roared.
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Pulling higher into the frigid night sky, Blossomforth felt the first touch of a snowflake on the tip of her wing and was able to, at a glance, take in the oncoming weather. As a experienced weatherpony she felt a momentary sense of betrayal, as if her senses had turned on her, because the onset of this storm had come in fast and hard from the west. A fierce wind from the mountains had blown down a bank of brooding clouds that were just starting to get overhead, making a dark night even more so as the stars became obscured.
White flakes began to fall as Blossomforth and her squad banked hard to the left, angling for a fresh attack run on the ursans crawling up the northwest wall. Blossomforth winced as she saw a few ursans had already gained the top of the palisade and a fierce melee was begun, the earth ponies closest to the ursans on the wall switching to claymores and rushing the beasts.
“Back them up!” called the Legion mare leading Blossomforth’s squad, a light purple pony with a pitch black mane, whose name was Sharp Climb. She pointed with a hoof to mark their next target, one of the other ursans about to make the wall, and without another word she dove, the other three members of the squad, Blossomorth included, following in a breathless rush. They had been five until about three passes ago, when one of the poor Equestrian mares, one Blossomforth thought had been named Singing Wind, had made a bad strike with her spear that had lead the shaft to clip her own wing and sent her crashing into the ground. Blossomforth had tried to dive after her, but it had been pointless. Singing Wind had crashed headfirst, and the loud snap of bone had signaled a broken neck as much as her bent, unmoving body had been. At least she’d been dead before the ursans tore her apart… small comfort, and Blossomforth felt chilled to her core just thinking it.
She hoped they wouldn’t have a repeat with this run. There was no time to really think, the dark conditions bad enough before, but now the fresh snow and clouds making it worse as her squad dove at the ursan. A sharp whistle made her gasp, and she felt the rush of air as one of those dang lobber stones flew right past her head. Another inch or two and she’d be the one with a broken neck, or pasted head. Blossomforth grit her teeth, blinking back tears that she hoped were just from the wind shear, and focused on her target.
The ursan must have heard them coming, or it was just bad luck, because it had just reached the top of the palisade when it turned, using one paw to keep itself secure where it was, and lashing out with the other one at the same moment Blossomforth and her fellow pegasi lashed out with their spears. They were past the ursan in an instant, Blossomforth feeling the impact as he spear hit cleanly on the ursan’s upper neck. Her angle was good and her spear hit then pulled free, not catching to foul up her flight. The others made clean hits as well, but one of the others, a young stallion, was clipped in the wing by the ursan’s slashing paw. Blossomforth saw clearly the blood spray, the wing crumpling up, and the wide-eyed horror on the young buck’s face as he began to tumble down.
“No!” she cried, turning harder than she ever had in her life, all but reversing in mid-air. She flipped, rolling so that her back was facing the ground. One hoof outstretched, reaching for the tumbling stallion. “Catch it!”
He was still tumbling, cyan eyes wide with terror, his limbs flailing. Whether by intention or pure dumb luck one of his hooves did reach hers, and Blossomforth wrapped her limb around the stallion’s, bracing herself with hard flaps of her wings as his weight hit and nearly dragged her from the air. Keeping her grip firm she rolled, righting herself from her upside down position and began to beat her wings like a hummingbird to gain more height. Pain lanced through her, her still not fully healed injury from before causing a wretched agony to tear through her muscles. She nearly dropped her passenger, but Blossomforth pressed her teeth together so tightly she could feel her gums bleed as she focused on staying in the air. She was above the wall now, and she saw the desperate battle taking place atop the battlements.
Several ursans had gained the top and were mixed up in viscous melee with the earth ponies and unicorns defending the palisade. Blossomforth caught sight of one earth pony mare being swatted off the wall by an ursan’s back swipe, claws rending flesh and nearly ripping the mare’s chest open like a wet melon, only for another two earth ponies to fire into the ursan at point blank range with their heavy crossbows, the massive iron bolts smashing into the ursan’s face in sprays of bone and blood. The night was lit up by cerulean and inferno bursts of light as the unicorn’s turned their arcane power towards the interlopers both below and on the wall, and in one of those flashes Blossomforth saw Trixie, an ursan bearing down on the terrified looking unicorn.
Blossomforth felt tears pouring from her eyes as she beat her wings faster. She couldn’t possibly abandon the stallion who still clung to her, his broken wing rendering him flightless, but every instinct she had told her to go help Trixie.
Then she saw another pony, one who was charging across the palisade like a mare possessed. Blossomforth had one more moment to notice Coco Pommel had somehow traded her crossbow for one of those large, shining claymores, before the whistle of a stone forced her to dive aside, the harsh lobbed rock projectile clipping her side and sending her into a barely controlled tumble for the ground.
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Coco was drowning. Her feelings were akin to a burst dam, a flood of regret, outrage, and sharpened instinct that drove away fear and pain, though she still felt those like dull, muffled voices in another room. When the ursans had managed to pile up enough to start climbing the wall despite the punishing, slaughtering barrage of crossbow bolts and spells thrown their way, Coco had been afraid. When she’d seen the first glowering, roaring visage of the bear that rose over the palisade no more than a few paces to her right Coco had screamed, but she’d also fired her crossbow. The bolt had lodged into the ursan’s thick, meaty shoulder, barely slowing it as it sunk its fangs into the neck of the stallion that had been unfortunate enough to be standing before it. Coco had seen the poor fellow’s eyes bulge out in sheer horror as his blood streamed from his neck and mouth, a crimson river that blocked his own gurgled scream as the ursan gave a single hard shake of its head. The sound of flesh tearing, a horrible sound akin to ripping paper, wet paper, had made Coco’s stomach curdle.
And amid that nausea the rage boiled, rose, and made reloading her crossbow somehow faster. She’d fired again before the ursan was done savaging the stallion’s now very dead corpse. Coco let out a rather unladylike curse as her second bolt somehow skipped off the ursan’s thick skull, rather than puncture into it’s brain as she’d hoped. The bolt had still left a red gash across the ursan’s brow, running thick blood into its snarly face as it turned its attention to Coco. Its eyes narrowed, blazing with hate and rage. Coco’s eyes blazed right back.
She had no time to reload as the ursan stepped towards her, and reared up, its claw poised with crushing intent. Coco turned, instinctively putting the bulk of her crossbow between herself and the ursan, halfway to rolling away by the time the claw descended. Luck, and her crossbow, saved the former seamstress from a bloody end. The crossbow took the bulk of the swipe, the ursan’s claws splintering the bulky weapon. Only a graze of those long, curved black claws touched Coco’s hide, her chain-mail armor managing to keep her safe from serious harm as she rolled away.
Coming to her hooves she saw her ruined crossbow and immediately went for a bolt, not to load, but instead as a makeshift short spear. It was a pathetic weapon against the goliath bear, but Coco had no intention of going down without a fight! Before she could charge the beast, however, it was beset by a number of other ponies. Not only did a flight of pegasi descend from the sky, stabbing with their spears, but a pair of earth ponies wielding claymores charged in from behind, rending and cleaving with the huge blades.
The ursan roared in pain, lumbering around, its bulk now working against it in the limited space atop the palisade. The pegasi had stabbed and flown by, a single punishing pass that left bleeding holes in the ursan’s back, but that hardly seemed to slow it as it turned on the two earth ponies that had attacked with claymores. Coco could tell both these ponies were Barrier Land Legionnaires, and she belatedly realized they were from the company on the other wall. A squad must have been sent to reinforce the beleaguered Equestrians. Coco, heart leaping, charged in to help with her makeshift weapon.
She stabbed hard into the ursan’s flank, the bolt barely sinking in, and hardly distracting it as the beast clamped its jaws around the leg of one of the Legionnaires before it. The mare screamed but doggedly kept slashing with her claymore while her partner leaped in with a hard, fierce lunge that sank his own claymore nearly to the hilt beneath the ursan’s throat. Even as a small river of blood poured from the massive wound the ursan gave an enraged roar and with a flip of its head sent the Legion mare in its jaws flying over the wall. Coco watched in horror as she helplessly descended into the shifting mass of ursans outside the wall. The mare’s claymore clattered to the palisade.
The stallion responded to this by digging his claymore in deeper, twisting it and ripping it across the ursan’s throat, finally forcing the monster to shudder and collapse in a dead heap. Coco, feeling her rage only building, came around the side of the ursan. The Legion stallion didn’t even stay to say anything or check on her. He just picked out the next ursan down the line and went charging off to help. For a second Coco looked down at the dropped claymore the Legion mare had let behind. Any reservation she might have had about using a dead mare’s weapon evaporated under the practicality of her situation and the scream she heard behind her. One look showed her Trixie, backing away from an ursan that had climbed the wall and killed the pony leading Trixie’s array team.
Coco didn’t hesitate, her anger seeming to burst from her pores as she scooped up the claymore in her mouth, the padded hilt feeling heavy in her jaw, and she charged.
Arcane lights flashed in the blackness as she rushed by other unicorns desperately throwing spells into the ursan horde still attacking the wall, and Coco saw other earth ponies still firing their crossbows, though any organization of ranked firing had given way to simple instinctual firing at will. Coco ran past them all, eyes focused solely upon the ursan that was seconds from slaughtering one of the few friends she’d made so far in this nightmare.
Time seemed to turn to a crawl in her favor, Coco could feel her blood flowing through every vein in her body, hot as magma. The thunder of her heart matched that of her hoofbeats, and for just a moment her anger seemed to gain a strange clarity.
Coco Pommel hated bullies, having spent most of her life dealing with them, wasting her career working for one. And the ursans were the most horrific, final, illogical, terrible evolution of the type. They killed because they could. Because they were bigger, stronger, meaner, and curler than anypony else. It was the epitome of everything Coco Pommel realized she stood against, and as much as she feared her anger it was clarifying, freeing , to understand that her anger was justified. It lent her a strength she didn’t know she was capable of.
Capable enough to dive through the dark haze of battle, leap over the blood soaked corpse of a unicorn stallion whose head was all but severed from his body, and with all the coiled strength she could muster drove her claymore tip first into the hindquarters of the ursan bearing down on Trixie.
Her teeth rattled, possibly one of them loosening, and her entire neck reverberated with the strain, but Coco felt more than heard the resounding crack like the splintering of a mighty tree trunk as her blade fractured the thick bone inside the towering bear. Its roar was felt in Coco’s own bones more than it was heard, a painful pressure that pushed on her ears and rattled her skull as the ursan turned itself around, forcing her to tear her claymore free and scramble to keep her hooves under her.
Naked, volcanic fury shone in the ursan’s dark eyes like twin black suns, and Coco had a bare moment to react as a hefty paw was lifted and a swipe of claws as large as daggers flashed towards her face. Agony tore across her, even as she threw herself back, her vision clouding murky crimson as blood poured across her eyes, blood from savage wounds now etched like ragged red valleys over her muzzle and cheeks. She had no thought for the wound, however, her world narrowed to a needle point of crystalline focus fueled by more adrenaline than her body had ever had to handle before.
Lips pulled back in a dark snarl the ursan lashed out with another thunderous strike, and the small seamstress from Manehattan twisted aside, throwing her body against the rough, jutting palisade ramparts as wood shattered into splinters where she’d just stood. Fire surging in her blood she all but bounced off the ramparts and swung her neck, sword clenched so tightly in her teeth she was certain she’d shatter them. Instead her grip held form as her blade opened a spurting gash across the ursan’s nose. It snorted, rearing up to its full, dwarfing height, clearly intent on crushing her.
Without warning a spark of emerald magical motes flew right in front of the ursan’s face and with a festive and ear splitting pop a flash of fireworks erupted right before the bear. It teetered, dazed and blinded for just a second… a second Coco did not waste. She surged forward, hindleg like coiled springs, and she shoved her claymore straight into the soft belly of the ursan, nearly pushing the large sword to the hilt in the ursan’s coarse brown fur. Coco could smell the sharp coppery scent of blood and all but taste the stuff as it poured out of the beast, splashing her face and pooling on the floor.
The beast paused, blinking in dumbstruck disbelief, and let out a gurgling groan before rolling off the back end of the palisade like so much dead meat, its body slamming to the muddy ground inside the fortress. Nearby Trixie was breathing heavily, eyes wide and near wild, but the showmare seemed to be bringing herself under stead control. Behind Trixie, Coco could see another unicorn stallion cowering, hooves covering his head. Wine Taster, Coco thought his name was. She was having trouble seeing, blood still muddying her eyesight. She could now more keenly feel the burning pain of the claw wounds on her face, but she suppressed the urge to whimper and instead looked to Trixie.
“Are you okay, Miss Trixie?”
“Bwuh?” was Trixie’s immediate reply. She still seemed a bit shocked, but she rapidly gained focus in her violet eyes and said, “Y-yes, Trixie is fine! You’re timely intervention is much appreciated.”
Any further conversation was halted by a echoing noise of splintering wood that was so loud it caused both mares to jump. Coco quickly went to look over the palisade, and felt the blood drain from her face as she saw that the largest of the ursans, the one clad in black iron armor who had been identified as the Warchief of the ursan horde, slammed its monolithic body once more into the western gate. This second slam nearly burst the gates open wide, but at that very moment a crystalline blue barrier of magic flowed up around the gate, looking like an incandescent wall of glass; a barrier spell.
“Was wondering if he’d do anything useful during this,” Trixie breathed, looking back into the fortress courtyard, where Coco could see a form standing a few dozen yards back among the gathered ranks of 4th Company. It was Captain Runeward, his horn blazing as he projected the barrier spell that was holding the west gate. Coco felt a small wash of relief pass through her at the sight. More than that, she saw that the palisade had been cleared of the enemies that had climbed atop it, and though the ursans were still throwing themselves wholesale at the fortress, despite the fact that dozens of ponies had already lost their lives, it seemed to Coco that they were holding the horde back.
For the time being.
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Thirza waited and watched with growing impatience, his eight eyes no more than small pin-pricks of reflective light to the spectacle of the battle before him. As a hunter who had commanded many skirmishes and participated in more than his share of territorial battles in the name of broodmother Chirziane, Thirza was able to examine the fighting between the surface races with part of his mind turned towards analysis. The rest of his mind was buzzing with impatience to rescue that fool, Leyshi. But he knew how to feel the flow of battle, to know when the right thread arrived to strike at an opportunity. He sensed it would come soon, but not quite yet.
His three eights of hunters spread out behind him, each eight a tight knit group ready to move at his command. He could smell their eager pheromones of anticipation and pent aggression. It’d been too long since they’d had a good fight. The spinner caste had taken the brunt of the raid at the pony settlement, and too few hunters had gotten a chance to stretch their legs and put their rune gauntlets to use.
Thirza wasn’t certain this would be a suitable use for them, but this all fell within Chirziane’s plans, even with Leyshi’s idiotic capture. Thirza and his hunters were to weigh in on the ursan’s side, providing it became necessary. By his estimation it wasn’t, thus far. The slow, plodding ursans had yet to break the fortress walls, but the battle had been going on for barely two hours yet. The ponies would tire, the ponies would bleed, and eventually the ponies would fall.
It was a sight, he had to admit. Battles in the vast, twisting caverns of the Aranea homeland rarely got larger than ten eights, maybe twenty, per side. Ambush and counter ambush, carefully planned traps, and daring covert raids were the norm for Aranea warfare. Only rarely did larger battles akin to what Thirza saw before him occur. Usually when one broodmother arranged an assault on a rival’s stronghold. Thirza had only been in one such battle, Chirziane usually more than politically skilled to avoid the need in most cases, but in one instance needing to dispose of a stubborn rival for the control of a trade route both coveted. It’d been an exhilarating fight, though still not much akin to what Thirza was watching from the edge of the forest.
These surfacers had so much space to work it was hard for Thirza to really wrap his mind around. As were the casualties they were willing to inflict upon themselves for victory. Thirza almost admired the determined defense the ponies were throwing up, as futile as it seemed. The raw magical display coming from the west wall almost stunned him. For Aranea, who had to mine and absorb their magic from exteriors sources, to see such raw arcane power being thrown by beings that stored that energy inside themselves was almost humbling.
And yet it wouldn’t be enough. Through blossoming balls of scorching flames and blinding spears of lightning the ursan horde relentlessly battered at the pony’s defenses. The constant rain of crossbow bolts was weathered and the ursans did not slow. Thirza could see one pony among the defenders on the east wall who added terrible whirlwinds and lances of ice to the forces pushing against the ursans, and he suspected that one was the leader. Yet for all this leader’s efforts, the defense was buckling, he saw. Ponies were yanked from the walls to be ripped to shreds, and despite the ursans attacking the east wall losing eights upon eights of their number, they’d concentrated their full force upon a single small breadth of wall, and the Aranea hunter could hear the distinct cracking of wood as the logs of the palisade started to splinter under repeated ursan strikes.
Soon, Thirza realized, his chance would come. His window to bring his hunters into the fray. His large, segmented body quivered with anticipation, joined by a wash of pheromones that signaled to all three eights of hunters to make ready.
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Coldiron wondered briefly that, if there were higher powers in the universe, exactly which ones and how many had she personally pissed off to have earned her current predicament.
While the vast bulk of the ursan horde was crashing against the western walls like a perpetually roaring wave of flesh, she and the Arrow Vale ponies were no less pressed for the fact that only a relatively small contingent of two hundred ursans were attacking their end of the fortress. Dozens of the bears had fallen reaching the northeast wall, their corpses like dark boulders in the field leading up to the palisade. With unbridled ferociousness the ursans divided themselves between smashing into the palisade wall with bone crunching force, or scrambling with their thick claws cutting deep furrows in the wood as they climbed to engage the Arrow Vale companies.
Coldiron’s horn strained under the casting of a fresh blast of freezing air, her pale blue magic bursting into a river of frosty white ice that buffeted a group of bears that’d gained the palisade wall near the north tip by the gate. Axes clutched in firm set jaws Arrow Vale ponies, mares and stallions alike with only simple leather armor to protect them, took to hewing at the hulking ursans as if they were back in their own lumber yards removing branches from freshly felled trees. The ursans, unfortunately, were not as yielding as trees. As axes fell, claws and fangs lashed out with equal frenzy. Coldiron stifled a cry of anguish as she saw Gnarled Wood, a friend of her family that she remembered carving a toy sword for her when she was little, be lifted into the air by a bellowing ursan and torn nearly in two, the old stallion’s entrails raining down like macabre confetti.
Gnarled Wood was almost immediately avenged as other ponies with their lumber axes rising and falling with fervent rhythm cut the ursan’s legs right out from under it and sent its body, bloody, legless stumps still pumping fountains of red, tumbling back over the palisade. Yet more ursans made their way up the wall, even as a squad of pegasi swept by overhead, wings blurred, light crossbows singing out a twanging staccato of fire that peppered the monstrous bear’s bodies.
“Coldiron!” she heard a call come up, and she saw mayor Straight Lace leading the column of the Arrow Vale 2nd company towards her position, the ponies clustered along the relatively narrow palisade walkway as they tried to reach the beleaguered ponies of 1st company.
She waved him back, raising her voice to a high pitch to be heard over the battle, “Hold! You can’t reinforce us from there! Get to the ground and line up behind us! Move it!”
It was a risky move, she knew. By taking the 2nd company off the southeast palisade to provide a backup line to support the 1st company she risked the fort if more ursans swung around the south end of Beartrap Fortress and found that wall undefended. Yet by her estimation the bulk of the ursans were too heavily engaged with the western walls to be an immediate issue over here, and she needed to keep 1st company holding. These ursans might crack right through the Arrow Vale companies both, but Coldiron saw no choice.
Mayor Straight Lace’s understanding of her orders was communicated by a start dip of the company flag, and she breathed a small sigh of relief as she saw the ponies of 2nd company moving quckly and in order down to the ground of the fort and starting to line up a good twenty paces back from the base of the wall behind 1st company. The sudden addition of crossbow fire from 2nd company plus a few light bursts of arcane bolts or flame jets from the few casters among the Arrow Vale gave the pressed 1st a second to breath. Coldiron shouldered her way towards the spot where the bulk of the ursans were still smashing against the wall, just in time to see something… extraordinary that made the blood drain from her face.
While ursans had been clawing over each other to climb the walls, keeping Coldiron and her companies busy, a small clearing had opened up among the bears right in front of the wall, a clearing where a single ursan stood. Coldiron recognized her as a female, an athletic and lean looking female whose dark fur was unmarked save for a single, large black feather tied into the fur behind one of her ears. This ursan female was, if Coldiron’s ears weren’t deceiving her, chanting, with a deep melodious voice that didn’t sound like it could possibly come from a ursan’s throat. That resonating voice was joined by a sudden, intense rumbling in the ground, and before Coldiron could think to cast a spell to strike at this strange ursan female the ground itself started to roll as it had become waves like the ocean itself, and suddenly roots burst from the dark, muddy earth. The roots pushed under the palisade’s deeply duck log wall and in seconds the roots rose, wrapped around the logs, and with straining pulls began to crack the log beams that had held for all the long decades of Beartrap Fortress’ existence.
In that moment, as the palisade walkway began to buckler underneath her hooves, Coldiron thought she caught sight of several dozen large, many legged shadows bursting from the treeline of the east forest and begin skittering at frightening speed for the unguarded southeast wall.
Lurkers!
Her mind choked out the word in an instant of intense dread that almost made her forget that the palisade beneath her was coming apart. Quickly she regained her senses and shouted at the ponies nearest her, “Move! Clear the way!”
She scrambled along with her fellow ponies as a ear splitting, gut churning splintering of wood reverberated loudly across the battlefield. She felt wood chips sting at her hide and her hind legs almost lose purchase as an entire five meter section of wall was pulled asunder behind her. Coldiron didn’t hesitate, her mind moving like quicksilver as she took in the sight of that horrible, ragged hole in Beartrap Fortress’ wall, writhing, pulsing roots still grasped around the broken, pinched in logs like large grasping snakes.
The ursans seemed almost as shocked as the ponies at the sudden hole in the wall, and that instant gave Coldiron the moment she needed to start shouting orders for the Arrow Vale companies to rally and form up on the breach. “1st company, hold the wall! 2nd company, circle the breach! Lurkers coming in from the east, brace for them!”
As she shouted she also concentrated a quick, simple spell through her horn, a shimmering white light flowing up the horn to its tip that then shot upward into the night sky. The light flared to life in a short burning ball of white light that flickered once, twice, three times in short succession. It was the signal to call for reinforcements from the 5th company that was, to her knowledge, still standing by in reserve. Assuming the west wall was holding she hoped it’d only take minutes for those reinforcements to arrive.
Seeing the ursans pour towards the breach in the wall like a roaring, furred wave, and knowing that in seconds the Lurkers may also be upon them, Coldiron wasn’t certain she and the Arrow Vale ponies had those minutes.
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It hadn’t taken long at all for Leyshi to decide that, while it might very likely result in her being killed in an entirely inappropriate and painful manner, and deprive her of any further chances to learn about ponies, she ought to escape. The ponies were clearly very busy and distracted by their big battle with the ursans, after all, so she wasn’t likely to receive another such opportunity.
It was regrettable, these violent situations. She’d much have preferred to just sit and chat with the ponies, watch them and study them. It seemed a shame to have to escape, torture aside. But what was a little pain in the name of learning? If anything the only real hang up she had with the notion of escaping was that she didn’t think she could do it while those ominously silent and agitated looking guards were staring at her. At least she thought they were agitated. It was still very hard to tell with ponies. Each pony seemed to have different bodily reactions and she mused on whether they were based on personality, subspecies, or what the pony had to eat that evening.
For example, the surly looking broad pony mare without any neat appendages which Leyshi now knew was an ‘earth pony’ was standing so stock still she may as well have been a statue; she certainly had the same coat and mane color as granite. In contrast the fellow guard next to her, a stallion with the wings that made him a pegasus (Leyshi was so envious!) was practically twitching in his armor, constantly shifting on his hooves, his beautiful blue wings flapping occasionally.
It really seemed to annoy his companion, for she growled, “Will you cut that out!”
“Can’t! Dammit we ought to be up there fighting, not watching this ugly thing.”
“Well stop squirming. I’d rather be up there fighting too, but dancing about like you got a flea infection isn’t helping,” growled the female.
“I know! I know! But it’s… it’s starring at us. With those beady little eyes! It’s creepy,” said the pegasus, pointing a wing at Leyshi.
Leyshi puffed out a small bit of indignant pheromones, but chirped in what she hoped was a friendly tone, “I’m sorry but your bodies are fascinating to look at. Am I ugly? I thought I looked nice. Do ponies think we look ugly?”
“Shut it, monster,” the female pony grunted, taking a menacing step forward and aiming a crossbow at Leyshi’s face, “I’ve got orders to end your miserable existence if you so much as move an inch. Don’t tempt me.”
Leyshi quieted down, perturbed but not surprised. Aside from that friendly fellow Quick Needle it seemed none of these ponies wanted to talk to her. It was frustrating. What she wouldn’t give just to meet a few friendly, talkative ponies who wanted to know as much about her as she did about them. And it’d certainly help if she wasn’t a prisoner in the middle of a battle. Speaking of the battle, though she could see nothing in this dungeon cell, she could still hear and feel the fight. The ground shuddered and shook with the pounding of many moving creatures, and the blasts of spells. If Leyshi concentrated she could tell by the vibrations more or less what was occurring above.
“Oh, I think your side is not doing so well,” she said suddenly.
“I said shut it!” the female pony said, eyes narrowing dangerously, like glittering little pieces of flint.
“How can you know anyway?” asked the pegasus, nervously glancing towards the door that opened up to the stairs leading up.
Leyshi considered, an idea forming in her mind. Risky, risky, risky, but the broodmother had told Leyshi she needed to work on being more bold if she too wished to one day be a broodmother. Plan formulating in her mind even as she spoke she said, “It’s easy. My species live underground. We know how to feel motion and movements from long distances just by tremors in the earth. I don’t know details, but I can feel that your east wall just got a big hole in it, and the ponies there are being overrun. It doesn’t look good.”
“One more word, and I fire,” said the earth pony, her mouth tightening on the firing bit of her crossbow.
“Hold on a sec, Riverstone,” the pegasus said as he took a step forward, tilting his head towards the door, “We could use this. If it’s telling the truth, and the east wall is in trouble, the Captain needs to know.”
“That’s what signal spells are for, Skyeye,” Riverstone countered, face a tight grimace of annoyance, “Our orders are to stay here, and watch this thing!”
“Yeah, well, you can keep an eye on it then. If the signal didn’t go up then they need to be warned we’re losing the east wall!” Skyeye said back with a determined set to his jaw, “I’m going up. You going to shoot me for it or what?”
Riverstone glowered, “Fine, just get your ass back here quick! I don’t want to left alone with the damned thing!”
“Shouldn't take more than a few minutes,” said the deep blue pegasus, all but taking to the air as he fled out the dungeon. Leyshi waited until she could feel the vibrations of his hoofsteps fade into the background cacophony of the battle above before she turned her attention back to the lone remaining pony. Riverstone looked at her with unabashed and undisguised disgust and Leyshi feared for a moment that perhaps trying to escape wasn’t the wisest of moves. Somewhere behind all of her exuberant desire to learn more of these strange colored surface creatures and her eagerness to try and free herself there was the very real realization that she could die shortly if this went wrong.
Well, as the old saying went, a web couldn’t be spun if one was too scared to pick the first anchor point.
Her experiences with anything resembling combat were practically zero, but she had noted in her observations of the ponies thus far that their reaction speeds seemed a tad slower than what was normal for an Aranea of almost any caste. Perhaps it had something to do with the way their nervous systems were set up? She wasn’t certain, but she hoped that if she could get this twitchy pony to be distracted for a second then it’d be enough time to get the drop on her.
Decided old tricks were probably the best tricks (and besides, perhaps the ponies didn’t know this one!) Leyshi began to feign respiratory problems, letting out choking, ragged hiss and flopping her abdomen onto the ground. Riverstone reacted immediately, narrowing her eyes.
“Stop that! Whatever you’re doing, stop it now, or I fire!”
“Can’t... breathe... everything going... dark,” Leyshi wheezed out in what she hoped was a convincing tone of dismay and fear. Acting wasn’t her strong suit. Or any suit, for that matter. She tried wiggling her legs in dramatic fashion and pressed one to her thorax in mock pain.
Riverstone appeared unimpressed, “I don’t care if you’re having a seizure. Do you think I’m an idiot? Even a foal wouldn’t fall for that performance.”
Leyshi hissed in disappointment, letting her eight legs splay out in defeat, “Aw, I thought I was being convincing.”
“Yeah, well, you’ll need to try a lot harder to pull the wool over my eyes, monster.”
“What’s wool? And why would I want to put any over your eyes?” asked Leyshi with honest curiosity.
“Ugh! Just. Shut. UP!” Riverstone stomped her hoof for emphasis, face a mask of raw, teeth barred fury. The stomp was so hard it jarred a loose bit of stone from the wall behind the mare. When the small rock hit the tense Riverstone instinctively turned towards the sound. It took only a second for Leyshi to act with that moment of distraction, unexpected as it was for both her and the pony.
The brood caste held traits for all the other castes, necessary for the purpose of producing broods of any potential caste when it came time to mate. As a result Leyshi, like any young brood caste female, could spin webs just like a member of the spinner caste. Rearing up as fast as her injured, tired legs could allow she swung her abdomen around and aimed her spinnerets. Riverstone was turning back at just that same moment, having seen Leyshi move, but the young Aranea was swifter. A silky white rope of strong webbing fired out, striking Riverstone on the shoulder as she turned.
“What the-!?” the mare barely had a moment to shout in surprise before Leyshi yanked back on the strand of web as if it were a lasso, the incredible tensile strength of the web more than enough to hold fast as Leyshi pulled. Caught off balance, and not prepared for the strength such a seemingly delicate creature was capable of, Riverstone was pulled right to the bars of the cell and slammed into them hard, stunning her briefly.
Leyshi moved with lightning speed, rushing the bars and grabbing Riverstone with four of her eight legs, holding the pony fast.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Leyshi said in embarrassment as she quickly worked her abdomen, spinning more webs as she began to wrap up the struggling pony. It was tough, with the bars in the way, and the pony flailing her hooves with remarkable power, but once an Aranea has its prey in its grasp, there is rarely a chance for escape. Especially when Leyshi brought her fangs into play. Mentally she called forth not her lethal poison but the lower strength paralyser, careful to quickly sink her small fangs into the pony’s struggling neck with a fast nip that the pony probably didn’t even notice until the toxin would start to work its way through her body, numbing her limbs.
Riverstones struggles weakened, and gradually fell still, the pony’s breaths coming in small, short gasps as Leyshi finished wrapping up most of the mare’s body in a thick layer of web. Leyshi left the mare’s head exposed so she could still breath, and Riverstone remained conscious, eyes wide and now filled with almost mindless terror. Leyshi almost felt bad for the mare.
“Don’t be afraid. I won’t eat you. At least not right now, at this time and place. Maybe later, if you get caught by others. Statistically speaking the chances of me eating you is very low, but one has to account for the possibility that it might happen. So, hmm, say a one in one hundred and eight eights chance of me eating you later. Which I’m sure you’d taste good, so please don’t think I’m insulting you by not eating you. Okay? Oh, um, how do I open this cell?... Right, you can’t talk right now. Sorry. OH! Is this them?”
Spotting a set of metal prongs on a ring hanging from the wall about four or five paces away Leyshi quickly snagged them with another shot of web. They looked somewhat like the kind of keys Aranea used, though very oddly shaped, all things considered. They were like little metal spears with teeth, instead of eight armed clasps, but Leyshi fiddled with them for a minute and soon enough found the one that opened up the door to her cell. The cell’s hinge screeched in a satisfying manner and Leyshi hobbled out with a feeling of merriment rising in her chest.
She’d freed herself! If she managed to get back to Thirza he might not be as mad at her now! Hopefully. Maybe.
Leyshi turned around, pumping out pleased pheromones even though she knew Riverstone’s nose wasn’t able to smell them, “Thank you for the interesting experience. I learned a lot. Bye bye!”
With that she quickly scuttled out the door and up the short set of stairs that led up into the main part of the pony fortress, keeping to the shadows and alert for danger.
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The entire world was a spinning kaleidoscope of pain, bursting shadows being punctuated by flashes of light, and intense pyres of orange flame. Blossomforth felt almost nothing outside the sharp pain that encompassed her side as the wind howled by her. She gripped the screaming young stallion in her hooves tightly as she flung her wings out at every angle she could to try and control their descent.
Terror was threatening to claw her heart apart, but pure concentration and flyer’s instinct took over to keep Blossomforth from losing all sense of flight. She couldn’t see well enough to know if they were crashing outside the fort amid the ursan horde, but she knew that a crash was imminent, and that the best she could do was try and make it controlled.
Wings spread, catching the air between their feathers, she slowed her descent slightly, pushing her wild rolling and spinning into an almost controlled glide, but only just soon enough to see the ground rushing up to say hello to her face. Blossomforth tucked the stallion close to her barrel and braced her shoulders forward, hoping to roll with the upcoming impact.
Braced or not when she hit the ground it was like having the fist of a giant cracking her straight in the jaw. Every inch of her bones rattled and her entire mind was struck blank by the sheer force of the crash landing, her whole body rolling end over end for what felt like a short eternity. But she never lost her grip on her passenger, and was still holding him tight when she finally came to rest on her back, dazed, eyes swirling as she stared up at the sky with a bruised, bleeding face.
“Ugggh... worse than tornado duty back home... “ she muttered, raising her head to see if she had any ursans rushing to tear her limb from limb. Fortunately the first thing she saw was the interior of Beartrap Fortress’ palisade. It looked like she’d managed to crash land just a few dozen paces inside the area just by the west gate. She saw the incandescent blue luminous energy of some kind of magic barrier hugging the gate. The gate itself looked battered and ready to fall if that magic barrier was lowered. Somehow she didn’t think that was a good sign.
A pained groan got her looking at the stallion she’d saved, the poor fellow’s body not much better off than her own. His wing that had been clawed by the ursan during his ill fated flight was twisted and bloody, a torn red ruin that made Blossomforth think of shattered tree branches. Tree branches that bled. She held back an urge to upchuck and instead, patted the fellow’s head.
“You alive there, buddy?”
He seemed too out of it to answer, eyes closed shut and face a grimace of pain. She started to edge her way out from under him when she heard hoofbeats behind her. Glancing around Blossomforth caught sight of a vaguely familiar blue and orange maned mare approaching. Sergeant... Counter Charge? Yes, that was the name! Nearby Blossomforth could see that and entire company of Legion ponies was arrayed in front of the gate, and she recalled that this must be 4th Company, the one that’d been assigned to guard the west gate in place of the Heartlander company.
“Rough landing, recruit?” Counter Charged, asked, bending down to lend Blossomforth a hoof up, and taking a quick look over the stallion.
“Ehhh, I’ve had worse,” Blossomforth lied, stumbling to her hooves and swaying as her head delivered her a hefty blow of dizziness. “I think he needs a doctor.”
Counter Charge nodded after giving the stallion a once over, and quickly turned to her waiting company, “Two volunteers, take our injured to the medics in the keep. Pronto!”
Two soldiers immediately detached themselves from the waiting company of grim Legion ponies and in short order the stallion, whose name Blossomforth had never had the chance to learn, was carried away swiftly. This gave her a moment to take stock of the fighting. The interior of the fortress had almost a dozen dead ursans laying like bleeding boulders at various parts of the wall, likely killed during the fighting up on the palisade. Blossomforth could see the ponies up there, still letting loose a seeming unending stream of crossbow bolts and magic spells on the roaring horde beyond the walls. She could hear the impacts of ursan bodies slamming gthe palisade and the gate, the blue energy barrier at the gate shimmering with each hit. Other flights of pegasu squads wheeled and dove beyond the wall, no doubt striking at ursans still trying to climb. Blossomforth wondered where her squad was, but realized finding it in this darkness and chaos would be nearly impossible.
“If you can’t rejoin your squad,” said Counter Charge, seemingly reading Blossomforth’s mind, “you can join the rest of your company on the wall. Spear any ursans trying to get over. This night is far from done.”
Before Blossomforth could offer any response there was a bright flash of light to the east, a trio of white flares of magic trailing through the sky like overcharged fireflies. Blossomforth didn’t know what that meant, but Counter Charge immediately sucked in a harsh breath and swore.
“Buck! The east wall’s been breached.”
“Breached? As in, broken? Kaput? Giant hole, as in holy horsefeather’s we're in trouble?” Blossomforth sought clarification.
Counter Charge didn’t answer the question, instead just saying, “Get back with your company. We’ll handle the breach. 5th company is in reserve... yes, there they go.”
Blossomforth looked to where Counter Charge nodded to see another company of Legion soldiers, one that’d been holding back near the wooden keep as a reserve force, immediately wheeled around and began a fast gallop around the south end of the keep, heading to the east side of the fort. Blossomforth hoped that single company of a hundred ponies would be enough to deal with whatever had breached the east wall. She couldn’t help feeling a distinct clutching and clammy sense of worry.
Coldiron was on the east wall, last she knew.
On a sudden impulse she said, “Sergeant, can I go with them? Can I volunteer to go to the east wall?”
Counter Charge paused, giving Blossomforth a brief iron hard look. Whether it was resolve or something else that the Sergeant saw in Blossomforth eyes the pegasus mare didn’t know, but Counter Charge just gave a single sharp nod and said, “Go if you want then, but make it quick, recruit! Nopony gets to stand around lollygagging in this battle.”
Blossomforth gave a quick nod and smile, saying, “Yes Sergeant!”
While she was also worried about her Heartlander friends, especially Trixie, who had seemed so scared before the battle, if there was real trouble at the east wall she didn’t doubt for a second that Coldiron was in the thick of that trouble; and that the icy mage may well need somepony to help watch her back.
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Counter Charge quickly returned to the ranks of her company, only briefly watching that white Heartlander pegasus fly off unsteadily. She was surprised the mare could still get in the air after that epic spill. She’d seen Legion pegasi take lesser crashes and be stuck land bound for a week afterward. Heartlanders apparently were made from stern stuff. Both inside and out. It’d seemed for a few tense minutes there when the ursans had first gained the top of the palisade that the Heartlander company would end up breaking and routing, and Counter Charge had almost sent 4th Company to reinforce them, but they beleaguered Equestrians had rallied, despite taking more than a few horrific losses. The wall was holding, and Counter Charge could only feel a sense of growing respect for these ponies that had lived peacefully for so long, yet were adapting to the crucible of war with inspiring speed.
Blossomforth was a prime example. Battered and bloody, but not even hesitating to volunteer to join the reinforcements to go counter the breach to the east. Counter Charge was a bit envious, wishing she take 4th company that way as well, but she could hardly leave the west gate undefended with the vaster bulk of the ursans still throwing themselves against this end of the fort. Perhaps the real reason she’d allowed Blossomforth to go to the east wall was because she too was worried about Coldiron.
Back among her company she stood next to Captain Runeward, who’d joined her company so he could use his warding magic upon the gate. The old stallion’s face was a sweating mask of pure concentration as his horn glowed with several solid layers of blue luminescence. He was breathing heavily, perhaps more so than she’d ever seen from the aged commander.
“Sir!” came a young, eager voice, and Counter Charge saw a pegasus Legionnaire rushing up to them, wings beating fast. She blinked, recognizing him as one of the guard’s they’d left with the Lurker in the dungeon. She suddenly got a cold, unpleasant feeling in her gut, like a block of lead.
“What are you doing up here, private Skyeye?” growled Runeward with dangerously hardened eyes.
Gulping, looking nervous, the private gave both Runeward and Counter Charge a quick, clipped salute, “Captain, Sergeant, I came to warn you that the Lurker sensed the wall breaking on the east side.”
“We already know,” said Counter Charge, face turning stone like, “The signal just went up. Is that the only reason you abandoned your post?”
Skyeye’s brow beaded with sweat but to his credit he didn’t flinch away from the iron stares of the two higher ranked Legionnaires in front of him. He even kept a steady voice as he said, “I didn’t want to risk that the signal didn’t go up, sirs.”
Runeward looked ready to buck the young private square in the jaw but Counter Charge followed Skyeye’s logic. There was no telling if the wall was breached if there’d be a unicorn still capable of casting the signal spell, so if there was even a chance of that then coming up to warn them about it was the only logical choice. It risked the prisoner escaping, but what was one prisoner against the possible loss of the entire batte?
“You made the call that felt right, private,” she said, managing a small, strained smile, “Now get back down to your post and leave the rest to us.”
Skyeye shot off another fast salute and was off like a shot practically before she was done speaking. Runeward eyed her with a deep frown, but he said nothing, resuming his concentration on his magical barrier. She noticed now that the Captain was wincing slightly with each reverberating smash against the gate.
“Blast it all, what do they have out there? A battering ram?” Runeward mumbled. HIs words were punctuated by the whistle and smack of a lobber stone hitting close to the ranks of 4th company, nearly taking the legs out from under a few of the soldiers gathered. Counter Charge grimaced. The lobber stones had mostly been hitting the wall, taking their toll on the troops up on the palisade. Counter Charge had heard more than a few blood curdling screams or bone crunching noises from the stones finding lethal marks. It seemed now the ursans were trying to sling their deadly stone payloads deeper into the fortress.
“Sir,” she said, “I think they’re aiming for you.”
Runeward glanced up into the dark night sky, eyes hard, “I can’t abandon the gate. They must know one or more unicorns is responsible for the barrier and are looking to get a lucky hit in.”
More stones began to land around them. Just a few at first, but before a minute had passed the lobber stones were coming down like irregular rain. A few more ponies among 4th company were struck, one stallion being completely bowled head over heels by a stone that twisted his neck entirely around with a sickening crack. Counter Charge set her jaw in a firm line as she reached out and took hold of Runeward’s shoulder, “Sir, we should move closer to the wall for cover.”
Now sooner had the words left her mouth that another of those intense whistles filled the air, so loud it drowned out the sound of the battle for a second, and Runeward’s body jerked out of her hoof’s grasp. She heard a tearing, wet crack, and for a second she just stood there, blinking in dumb shock.
Captain Runeward lay sprawled on the ground behind her, his back nearly folded upon itself, the lobber stone that’d struck him still halfway buried into his upper torso. It wasn’t even a smooth stone, but one that’d been sharpened, like a makeshift discus. Some clever, or crazy, ursan had modified some of his or her lobber stones, apparently. Either way the projectile had smashed into Runeward’s back squarely, severing spine, practically folding the old unicorn in half, like a rag doll that’d been bent over on itself.
There was no doubt he was dead. And with his departure, so too went his barrier.
The blue crystalline shield shimmered away like melting ice, and as it vanished the dull, glass echoes of the ursans that had been striking it now turned to violent wood splintering as the already weak west gate took the full fury of the ursans outside. Before Counter Charge could recover her wits enough to start ordering the troops of 4th company into order the center of the west gate burst open like a ripe tomato, its doors ripped off their moorings and falling aside with a resounding crash.
From the dirt and dust a looming, massive dark shadow emerged, resolving into the towering, powerful form of the ursan Warcheif. The black iron plates of his armor clanked with deafening metallic booms as the Warcheif strode past he shattered west gate into Beartrap Fortress, followed by dozens of his ursan braves.
In broken Equestrian the ursan Warchief roared, “I am Ulragnok! Come and fight, ponies! Give me battle worth our blood!”
Her blood running cold, but her heart somehow feeling still, with a sense of pure duty and purpose overcoming her shock and dread, Counter Charge drew the claymore from its sheath on her back and stood in front of the tense ponies of 4th company. With her voice ringing loud as drawn steel, she shouted, “Drive them back, 4tth company! For the Legion, charge!”