War Stories

by Guardian_Gryphon

3: The Gathering Storm

"So *this* is your recommendation?" Tharax raised an eyebrow incredulously, and gestured with one claw towards the building. It could only be described as a gingerbread house come to life, with zany asymmetrical architecture and a construction that appeared, for all the world, to be based off of sweet treats held together with icing and syrup.

Apple Bloom smiled and nodded, "Eeeyup!"

Sweetie Belle smiled sheepishly, "We're good friends with someone who works here."

Scootaloo chuckled, "Pinkie Pie never met *anypony* who she didn't eventually make friends with."

Tharax inclined his head, "She sounds... outgoing."

Apple Bloom exhaled slowly, "Mister, you have no idea."

The moment the group set hoof and claw inside the door, Pinkie was all over them. "HI! I've never seen *you* here before! We don't get many gryphons in ponyville... Its mostly Ponies here, *duh!* I guess it wouldn't be called ponyville if it was mostly gryphons. Its really great to meet you! I'm Pinkie Pie! What's *your* name!?"

The words tumbled out so quickly that they blurred together into one nearly indiscernible explosion of jolly salutation.

The gryphon looked somewhat dazed, but answered all the same, "I'm Tharax. Pleasure to meet you."

The bright pink-on-pink pony leapt into the air and shouted, "Yay! We get to have a welcome party for a gryphon!"

Tharax's ears reflexively pinned back as the din of Pinkie's celebration continued, "Actually, I was referred to you by these three fledglings. They told me that you might be willing to prepare food for a gathering I'm hosting this evening."

Pinkie stopped bouncing momentarily, and tilted her head, "A Gathering?" She gasped, "You mean, like a *surprise* party?!"

The gryphon shook his head, "No, not precisely. Could we perhaps talk in private?"

The pink party pony stared in confusion momentarily, before her jovial manner abruptly resurfaced, "Okie dokie Loki!" She bounced towards the back of the shop, "This way! You can taste test some of my new cinnamon buns too!"

Once the pair had made their way into the kitchen, Scootaloo voiced the shared thoughts of the Crusaders, "I'm not sure which of them I'm more scared for..."

Apple Bloom nodded, "You said it. Tho they seemed ta hit it off *pretty* well..."

Sweetie Belle flopped onto a stool and stuck a hoof to her chin, "What kind of 'gathering' do you suppose he's planning?"

Scootaloo shrugged, "He said he's here for 'Warriors' Day.' Maybe he's celebrating that?"

Apple Bloom began to pace, "Yeah, but who's he gonna celebrate with? I don't think we have any warriors in ponyville."

Sweetie Belle spun her stool so she could face her friends, "Maybe he's invited some warriors from somewhere else?"

Scootaloo squinted and drummed a front hoof absently, "Mmmmaybe... But then why come all the way to ponyville?"

Before the fillies could speculate further, the gryphon returned, Pinkie Pie in tow. To their astonishment, her usual high-energy joviality seemed almost subdued. She was, however, still smiling, "I'll see you at seven sharp then!"

Tharax nodded, "Yes. And thank you again miss Pie."

She waved a hoof at him, "Noooo problem!"

The Crusaders and the gryphon exited Sugarcube Corner in silence. Once they were back on the street, Tharax took the lead again. He seemed to have a new destination in mind. Scootaloo only allowed the silence to pass for a moment, before working up the courage to speed up, and walk alongside the gryphon.

He didn't seem to take the hint, so she cleared her throat. Tharax rolled his eyes, "Very well. You wanted to know if we held..."

"The first ranks of earth Ponies did your nation proud, especially given how inexperienced they were. What they lacked in battle-readiness, they very nearly made up for with courage and dedication alone. But the plan was never for them to hold for any length of time and so, on the agreed signal, they broke ranks and galloped back down the canyon..."

Tharax tightened his grip on the axe haft, and began to mentally count down from ten. The thunder of hooves, living and dead, in the pass below left a dull ringing in the air that he could feel in his beak and claws.

At last, the moment came. He said a quick prayer, and launched himself from the crevice silently. As he tucked his wings, and began to hurtle downwards at gravity's behest, he saw that the rest of the gryphons were springing from their places of concealment in the same manner.

The ground, and with it the churning mass of ground-walkers, sped towards him at what felt like impossible velocities. He had to resist a primal urge to sound a battle cry; surprise was one of their chief allies.

He slammed into the first ten ranks of wendigos from the side, swinging his axe as he did so. The momentum from his stoop allowed him to smash nearly a dozen of the dessicated skeletons at once, scattering the bones to the four winds.

As swiftly as he could, he vaulted back into the air, and flipped away from the crush so as to avoid becoming ensnared. As he landed, he embedded his axe in the skull of an enemy, and propelled his wing-joint plate into another, sending its head flying.

Tharax continued the pattern of half-flying, half vaulting his way across the battlefield, cleaving and hacking as he went with expert precision.

Within a matter of minutes, the ground-walkers' charge was completely broken. Tharax found Lyris in the midst of the fray, and together they began to cut an incision into the center of the wendigo ranks, sowing confusion and making it more difficult for them to regroup.

Not long after they began the endeavor, a horn sounded from the top of the watch tower. Once more the beat of hooves shook the ground, but this time it was a measured marching cadence.

With a roar, the secondary pony divisions crested a rise in the path, appearing hundreds of thousands strong, and sounding quite the part, thanks to the efforts of the unicorn illusionists.

To Tharax's gryphon eyes and brain, the trickery was fairly easy to detect, but the wendigos seemed to be fooled. If they had any power to sense life force, then they were too far from the steadily oncoming troops to use it to any effect.

The gryphons swiftly pulled away, and the wendigos did likewise, leaving a quarter mile gap in the pass. Tharax knew it was merely a temporary reprieve, and the moment he touched down, he began shouting orders, "Re-form behind the secondary pickets! Send divisions to cover the flanks, and pull the weaker tired lines back behind the fresh troops!"

"...The storm arrived with unexpected swiftness and fury. We had precious little time to regroup, and the wind and hail made coordination difficult. Not long after the storm came the long and drawn out, bloody, main battle. To fight for hours on end, without reprieve or hope of respite, is perhaps the greatest test of endurance that a creature can ever be put through. The wendigos were tireless, numberless, and had no regard for their own safety. We were few in number, exhausted, and most of the troops were ill equipped and ill trained. Nonetheless, we stood our ground; the watch tower was a blessing, and we made a good account of ourselves."

After a long silence, Scootaloo nudged Tharax's foreleg with a hoof, "That can't be the end?! What about the army of wendigos?"

Tharax raised an eyebrow, "Patience is not one of your strong suits, is it fledgling?"

Apple Bloom knit her brow, "Why do ya keep callin' us that? 'Fledgling?' "

The gryphon sighed, "Ah, forgive me. I forget that the terms are different for you. Fledgling is the word we gryphons use for the young. As opposed to hatchling, which denotes a very very young gryphon, not long out of the egg."

Sweetie Belle's eyes widened, "Egg?"

Tharax nodded, "Egg. Like all avian life, we hatch from eggs. Unlike most other creatures in this world, however, our eggs are cut from a rare kind of crystal agate, rather than laid."

Scootaloo looked incredulous, "You... hatched... out of a rock?"

The gryphon laughed, the first time any of the Crusaders had seen him appear so agreeable, and so happy, "Yes, and no. It becomes much more when a mated pair nest with it. You would call it magic, though it is not any sort of spell like one of your mages might conjure. Our kind does not cast magic; we can not wield it at all, but neither can it affect us. Just as, through tempering in a furnace, a sword becomes immune to heat, we are initially forged by magic, and therefore we become immune to it."

Tharax paused, and turned to see the three fillies staring in shock, "Well... Obviously they don't teach you much of anything about us in school. Perhaps before I leave you'll introduce me to your teacher. I have some words of... 'admonishment' for her."

The gryphon nodded at the building ahead, "I have another task to complete, I will only be a moment."

The three friends looked on in curiosity, as Tharax approached the side of the building, where an older earth pony was hard at work with a chisel and a large block of granite. They could not hear what was said, but they were surprised when the stonemason offered the gryphon a stiff, smart salute with one hoof.

Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow, "What do ya s'pose *that* was all about?"

Scootaloo shook her head, "I dunno. I'm still trying to get over the fact that he *hatched* out of a *rock.*"

"Why is that so surprising? We know *you* have all the intelligence of a rock..." The feminine, and saccharine voice came from behind.

It was swiftly accompanied by another, similarly grating vocalization, "...And that you obviously hatched. All chickens do..."

"...So how about you tell us what new silly foalishness you're up to today?"

"Still working on those blank flanks?"

The Crusaders didn't even have to turn to see the newcomers. The voices of their resident class bullies, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, were instantly recognizable, if for no other reason than their uniquely priggish qualities.

Scootaloo glowered, "We're busy today girls. Sorry."

Diamond Tiara raised one eyebrow incredulously, "Oh? What could *you* three possibly have to do that's of any importance?"

Apple Bloom stomped a hoof, "Fer yer information, we're showin' around a guest, and he's tellin' us a story."

Silver Spoon snickered, nudging her partner in crime with a hoof, "A bedtime story. And in the middle of the day too." She leaned in conspiratorially and spoke in an exaggerated mock whisper, "Do you suppose they have... A condition?"

Diamond Tiara nodded emphatically, putting on her best 'expert' air, "It's the *only* explanation."

Sweetie Belle sighed in exasperation, "For your *information,* we *are* escorting a guest, he's right over..." Her voice trailed off as she shifted her gaze to the building, "...There?"

Neither Tharax nor the stonemason were anywhere to be seen.

Apple Bloom spun around in confusion, "Wuh... well where'd he go?!"

Diamond Tiara smirked, "See? Delusional. I *knew* it all along."

Silver Spoon sneered, "Their brains are as blank as their flanks!"

The pair of twits began to laugh; a harsh discordant judgemental sound. But their reverie was brought up short by the sound of a deep voice clearing its throat. The sound was so guttural, that it practically rattled Diamond Tiara's titular chapeu right off her head.

The two young bullies gulped in unison, and slowly spun to behold the source of the nightmare inducing rumble.

Tharax stood, beak inches from their muzzles, eyes slicing them apart right down to the marrow of their souls. He paused just long enough for them to achieve full comprehension of the proverbial scat they had stepped in, before unleashing a wall of sound.

The call was mostly like a predatory bird's hunting keen, but had a healthy mixture of the roar of a lion, or manticore, in its bass.

It was so loud, it seemed to nearly propel the pugnacious fillies backwards. They froze momentarily under the onslaught of sound issuing from the gryphon's wide-open menacing beak, before their instincts finally kicked in and they darted off down the road; ears flat, tails tucked, stumbling over each other and blubbering nonsense in their abject terror.

Scootaloo stared in silence and shock for upwards of fifteen seconds before speaking at last, "That... was... so... AWESOME!"

Tharax shrugged, "I can not abide bullies. Sometimes the only way to deal with them is to put a little fear and respect back into their perception of life. Forcibly."

Sweetie Belle shook herself, and worked a hoof in each of her ears, "What *was* that?"

The gryphon set off walking once more, and the Crusaders dutifully fell in beside him, "A battle call. In some cases, it has been known to cause entire enemy armies to break ranks and flee in terror, if enough of us are present to shake the ground."

Apple bloom shook her head slowly, "Ah've never seen those two so afraid fer anythin' before!"

Tharax raised an eyebrow, "Are you truly surprised? You are a species of herbivorous herd animals. I am a predator. In a display such as what you witnessed, instinct plays a large role; it takes either a close social bond, or a great deal of courage, for a prey animal to banish fear in the presence of an angry predator. I get the impression those two have no great abundance of social bonds, *or* courage."

Sweetie Belle grimaced, "We won't argue that one."

Apple Bloom glanced up at the gryphon, a memory surfacing, "What was that salutin' thing all about? With you 'n the stonemason?"

Tharax dipped his head slightly, "He is one of the few warriors in your community. He fought in a conflict older than your lifetimes put together; few now living in your kind remember, and even fewer wish to know. The bond shared by those who have experienced conflict is nearly universal, and almost unbreakable."

Scootaloo stared down at the path in confusion, "I didn't think we had any warriors in ponyville.."

The gryphon stopped and glowered slightly, "Are you really so surprised that they are recalcitrant to reveal their past? Your culture is not kind to those who have made this particular sacrifice; all you see is the fear and blood and tears of war. No one stops to think about what it purchases for you, or the more noble qualities that it can instill into a warrior."

Sweetie Belle frowned, "Mostly I suppose it's because people aren't ever taught."

Scootaloo brightened, "But you're teaching us! Maybe you can teach others?"

Tharax sighed and tilted his head back and forth, "Perhaps. Perhaps not. We shall see."

After several more moments of amiable silence, Apple Bloom began prodding, "Well? Aren't ya gonna finish tha story?"

The gryphon sighed, and nodded, "Our strength was waning, but the dawn was coming..."

"...We could not see it for the storm, but I had been counting the hours, and I knew that we didn't have to hold for much longer. It was high time for retreat too; we had started to loose ground more swiftly, as each moment we retained the precious yards of dirt cost ever more lives..."

Tharax winced as his axe connected with another enemy, sending shockwaves of pain running through his shoulder. Hours before, he had taken a hit to the joint; the wendigos had sharpened the ends of their purloined body's hooves. He had succeeded in fending off the aggressor, but part of the hoof was still lodged in his shoulder.

It made flight slower, and more painful, in addition to limiting how often he could follow through certain strokes without causing undue damage to the affected muscles.

He had long since been separated from Lyris, who had taken on the role of defending the critically injured as they escaped the battlefield. The ground-walkers had a habit of intentionally singling out the wounded to swarm without warning.

As the gryphon managed to get back into the air, a group of Ponies caught his eye. They were mostly earth Ponies, with a single unicorn desperately trying to conjure protective enchantments for the entire bunch against a tremendous onslaught of ground-walkers.

The group had become separated from the main force. Cut off; a death sentence to beings bound by gravity. Tharax could see that Malus was leading the group, and doing far more than anyone would have the right to expect from an inexperienced earth pony.

He could also see that it wasn't enough of an advantage to free the trapped warriors; their lives would be forfeit in a matter of moments.

Against his better judgement, Tharax tucked his wings and dove to assist the stragglers. His arrival was swift, blunt, and destructive enough to clear away some of the closest wendigos. The action was painful, but it bought the warriors enough time to have a slim chance.

Malus managed to find time to speak, in between bucking away his opponents with his incredibly strong back legs, and the deadly blades attached to their hoofguards, "Good to see you again! We appreciate the help!"

Tharax was swiftly amending his estimation of Malus; the brave Equine was still grinning like a mad creature as he fought to keep a last sliver of hope for his life. The gryphon returned the expression, "You're a farmer? You missed your calling; with a little training you could actually be *good* at this."

Malus snorted, "Says the one with the bone shard embedded in his shoulder."

Tharax raised an eyebrow, and simultaneously decapitated two enemies with a single stroke, "And how *many* of these have *you* slain today?"

The pony stomped a hoof proudly as he released another round of surprisingly furious kicks, "Thirty seven!"

The gryphon smiled slyly, "I lost count after four hundred and seventy two."

Malus' expression swiftly morphed into an appropriate mixture of respect, and morbid surprise. He whistled, grunting as a glancing strike deflected off his armor, "You really are a race of warriors, aren't you?"

Tharax nodded grimly as he parried with his axe, "Born and raised."

As the pair continued to fight to keep Malus' detachment alive, the gryphon began to once again fear for their lives. His advent had certainly helped, both in providing breathing room for the beleaguered Ponies and in boosting their morale, but ultimately there were still too many ground-walkers in between them and the freedom of the pass.

To make matters worse, the weather had continued to foul; the wind was making flying incredibly difficult, especially flying away from the battle, or above a certain height. Hail and sleet were sheeting down like a thousand tiny wasps, pinging off of armor and bone alike incessantly.

The driving precipitation mixed with the low hanging clouds, fog, and the smoke of trenches that had been set ablaze, to create a nigh impenetrable wall of murk that only gryphons and Pegasi had any hope of seeing through.

Malus had apparently come to the same conclusion, "You don't have to stay with us! We volunteered the same as you!"

Tharax shook his head, "Part of being a warrior species! We're stubborn and loyal... to the death."

Malus shook his head emphatically, and ducked a swipe from a sharpened hoof, "They're short of good fighters as it is! They'll *need* you!"

The gryphon snorted, and spun his axe in a swift semicircle, "I've never been one to put logic above emotion! I won't leave a fight unless I'm the last one out!"

The pony wrinkled his muzzle, "And you think *I'm* crazy?"

As the contingent's breathing room began to diminish by feet at a time, the lightning began to strike within the canyon.

The sound was deafening, and the strikes seemed to be random at first; either spare energy from the storm expressing itself, or poorly aimed attacks.

But then, amazingly, the lightning began to gravitate towards the ground-walkers; specifically the ones that were hampering the trapped warriors' escape. Within moments, the immense bursts of electricity began to spear whole groups of the wendigos' corporeal forms. Each time the bolts passed through them, the bones collapsed into lifeless heaps, and the ephemeral form of a menacing equine, with glowing silvery-lavender eyes, would wend its way skyward shrieking.

As the final ground-walkers standing between them and escape fell smoking in the dirt,Tharax and Malus looked up to see the source of their salvation.

Poma was gleefully peering over a massive anvil-like thunderhead cloud which she, and a brigade of Pegasi, were fighting to keep under their control. To the side, four other Pegasi were bucking the stormy formation, sending out bolts of lightning as their weather magic forced the cloud to do their bidding.

Malus smiled and chuckled, "I'll say this for my wife; she is kind... until you cross her. Then you'd be better off dead."

Tharax cocked his head, "Your wife? Your... wife?"

The pony knit his brow, "I thought it was obvious."

The gryphon sighed, and smiled, rolling his eyes.

"...It wasn't long after that; we were forced into full retreat. We had held the full day, but only just. And we had lost many brave warriors; nearly forty all told. Poma's stratagem, however, ensured that we lost no one in the retreat itself. But we were a weary, disheartened bunch by the time we reached Utamak's city..."

Comments

[Noble Cause]

I rather enjoyed this story, and find it quite memorable. The action segments interspersed with the Ponyville goings-on are a nice alternating device.

[Guardian_Gryphon]

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