37 - The Third Gryphon War
Extended Holiday
Chp 37: The Third Gryphon War
Act 4
It has always been said that the fields outside of Fillydelphia glowed red from the blood that had been spilt on those grounds. Lunar Fang had no doubt this was true as the fighting carried on. Gryphons and ponies died in large numbers on both sides as the two bodies heaved against one another, two great waves colliding one against the other, neither giving way in their endless struggle. Bodies lay strewn about, covered in lacerations, burns,bruises, and all manner of disfigurements and dismemberments. The sight would haunt many a pony for years to come.
The gryphon charge had been partially broken by the barricades, but as was to be expected with flying creatures, this was a minor setback. They easily glided over the lines of furniture, carts, and other such things that had been used to make their defenses. The gryphons across the line first had not been lucky as the archers had lain in wait. They looked more like pin cushions than warriors as they fell to the ground. Sadly, before the archers could prepare another volley more gryphons streamed into the camp. Soldiers, thestral warriors, and even some civilians had grabbed whatever they could find and charged ahead. That had been several hours ago.
The combat had come to a head and hell descended until finally, the gryphon general sounded the order to pull back and re-group. Ponies sorted through the dead, seeking out friends and relatives, dragging them off for a proper burial. The attitude in Fillydelphia was one of gravity and sorrow. The very air reeked of despair, spreading over the town like a massive fog.
Lunar Fang walked up to the thestral who was heading the effort to bury their lost brothers. “How many?” she asked.
“Near five hundred.”
“And how many of our brothers?” she asked him.
“Around thirty so far.” He responded.
Lunar Fang nodded. “Given the numbers of the gryphons, that is rather low. Not that I’m complaining. Make sure they are sent off properly.”
“I will see to it.” He nodded and left.
Lunar Fang sighed as she made her way to the forge. She needed to talk with Hammer Strike. After a little searching she found him standing on a large wooden workbench next to the furnace. The air reeked of smoke and ash, the temperature felt like the inside of a volcano. An anvil stood, the remains of a hammer lay on top of it, acting as paperweights. The poor thing had shattered from the rapid output of the legendary smith. Spare hammers, tongs, and other equipment littered the work room. Parchments and diagrams lay scattered across the wooden work table and cold stone floor. Some lay crumpled in balls, others were rolled up into scrolls on the side, and others still lay in heaps of ash, mere shreds of their former selves.
“Over five hundred casualties,” She said, not bothering to greet him. “And the sickening thing is, I can’t help but think how mercifully small that number is.”
“As small as it is, it still holds weight.” Hammer Strike replied, putting his quill down.
“I don’t know if we’ll hold out for a second run if they charge us like that again.” She said.
“This town will hold strong.” Hammer Strike replied, still facing the wall. He put a hoof to his head, sighing softly as yet another parchment was crumpled and tossed to the dust pile, bursting into flame mid-arc before landing in the ash where it shrivelled and died.
“I just wish I knew how. The history books never said anything about this. The siege was supposed to be hard, but that was a blitz. If we had been even an hour or so later we wouldn’t have been ready,” Lunar Fang said.
“History does not mention everything. She tends to hide things just as much as she reveals them,” He replied.
Lunar Fang looked to Hammer Strike. “So what’s our plan? You wouldn’t happen to have some diagram for an instant fortification system handy, would you?”
“Large walls set up quickly? I can not do that.” He muttered. “I am going to be honest. I am unsure how, but I do know that we will keep this town.”
“We need something.” Lunar Fang noted.
“I am trying to figure out just what that something could be.” He sighed wearily, using his hoof to gesture to the parchments surrounding them. “I may be able to smith things at a fast rate, but building barricades? I can only design and work so fast.”
“I know.” Lunar Fang sighed. “It’s just ... a few months ago I was just a night guard. Now look where I am,” She said. “Getting ponies killed.”
“Before all of this time nonsense I used to be a civilian. A nobody.” He replied. “Imagine that. I can barely remember it, myself. A normal life. And yet here I am, a smith, a lord, killing those who want me dead....”
“I guess we’re both feeling a bit over our heads, huh?” she said.
“Give it thirty or more years. You tend to forget and lose the feeling…” He replied.
Lunar Fang heaved a sigh. “I hope Pensword is doing better than we are.”
Pensword looked to the building adjoining the west wall of the fort. The large wooden gates lay on the ground as dead and flat as the bodies they had buried. They continued silently repairing the outpost. He paused as a new door, roughly hewn, was placed into the hole and mended to fit the doorjamb. It would make a good temporary measure for now until the entryway could be properly repaired. He looked to the roof. A new set of colors fluttered in the wind. The symbol of the two sisters circled together with the sun and moon as they danced in the wind. Beneath that, the flag of his unit waved proudly in support, followed by the flag of the Gryphon slayers and the captured flag of the unit that destroyed his home town. He turned to the walls and the Thestrals that were patrolling the upper ramparts of the wooden fort. Closing his eyes, he let the sunlight soak his fur. The storm was being broken up for storage and now sunlight poured down, drying the earth from the rain.
Pensword had taken to bathing regularly in the warm daylight of the courtyard. He smiled a little as he returned to writing his letter. “In conclusion, your majesty and great chieftess, I end this letter within the walls of Fort Lunar Fang. Please inform my promised mate that she has a place of refuge for our troops on the front lines.” He smiled, waiting a moment before signing his name. Then he stamped his hoof to the parchment. He let the ink dry before rolling it up and giving it to one of Lord Hurricane’s aids. “Deliver this to Princess Luna as quickly as you can.”
The aid only nodded his head and moved to another part of the fort. A few moments later Lord Hurricane walked over from one of the many construction projects they were working on. This fort had to be prepared for any attempts to reclaim it. “Major.” His voice spoke softly.
“Yes, milord?” Pensword asked in return as he stood, walking beside Lord Hurricane.
“I have received orders to march toward Commandant Supreme Sunrise’s location on the coastal range close to the Gryphon Empire, The Crystal Empire, and the Northern Isles that Grif hails from. It is being projected as a future front that we must hold. If those passes and fortifications fall, the Crystal Empire shall be open to a full assault from the Gryphon Empire. Rumors that I have heard in the dispatches are that two armies are marching towards that region.”
“I wish you luck, then. Shall I be reporting to your son in your absence?” Pensword asked with a raised eyebrow. “I shall provide the help that he needs if possible.”
Hurricane the second shook his head. “Nay. My son has asked that you lead as thou didst during, as he put it, Operation Cougar?” He blinked in confusion as Pensword chuckled.
“Very well. I accept the battlefield promotion. And how long till we can march on Fort Triumph? I am hoping they pull in their troops. The last three days we have had Thestral raiding parties attacking pickett posts and supply camps.” He smirked at Lord Hurricane.
“Yes, yes, and now I see why the Unicorns feared Thestrals and Pegasi joining forces. Our fighting styles compliment one another and we can fight around the clock.”
“And in inclement weather, leather wings don’t have the same problems as feathers.” Pensword paused as his ear twitched. “It appears we have a flight coming in. I think Grif is with them.”
“Very well. I shall leave you to your scheming and plans. Just to let you know, the weather clouds you asked be assembled for Fort Triumph are nearly complete. With the amount of cloud and magic being poured into them it could take years to dissipate.”
Pensword arched an eyebrow. “Why not build a few buildings in it for the battle? Maybe create a Pegasus guard post out of it?”
“A flying fort?” Hurricane muttered. “Never was allowed under peace times. Maybe it could be fun to have a flying city again for Pegasi. I shall take that idea under consideration.”
“As you wish and command.” Pensword replied as he took a wing and slapped him on the shoulder. They were making sure that any snipers that even dared get near them would think they were low ranked soldiers.
Grif patted the dirt over the last shallow grave carefully. He had made a point of burying the gryphons himself and for the most part had left the bodies in a set of shallow trenches lined side by side. However, he had burned the wings of every gryphon in a separate fire. His human mind declared such superstitions unnecessary and childish, but something edged Grif to do it. Every one of these in the trench had hunted, killed, and eaten ponies without a second thought and now they would wander the earth eternally for their crime. The ground around him smelled of rotting flesh, freshly turned earth, and cinders from the previously mentioned fires wafting through the air.
The work had been hard, lasting well through the night and a good part into the day. Tall Oak and Little Willow had offered some help here and there but grif had forced himself to do most of the labour. His body groaned in angry protest and his stomach bellowed for nourishment. He sighed as he wiped his brow, looking at a single wooden marker set at the end of the furrows near the road some 250 yards from the gate: a solemn warning telling what had happened to them and why it had happened. It was only a few feet away from the road. Anypony would see it in passing until it eventually rotted away. By that time, Grif hoped the green grass would cover the mounds of freshly turned soil, eventually erasing the graves from history. Somewhere deep in Grif’s mind Taze shuddered at the thought of what others might think of his actions, but Grif carried on, stone faced.
No wings. No weapons. No honor. The worst of deaths a gryphon could imagine. Would this be what would happen to him should he be taken? The gryphon laughed to himself. There was a certain sense of assuredness in knowing his future. Knowing that his actions would be damned by his species and yet he would walk from this war with wings attached and with honor to spare for his name. War was a funny thing to put him in the position of the traitor and the hero, the rogue and the paragon. The same crimes that made his own race spit on his very name had him lauded with great praise by the ponies.
“In flander’s fields the poppies grow,” Grif muttered to himself under his breath as he impaled the shovel into the mound. It was done. They had been given a burial and that was more than some enemies would give them. What had been done to them was of little consequence now. They were dead and had moved on.
Grif turned to the outpost and began the slow walk back, having neither energy for flight, nor running, even if there should there be necessity for it. The gryphon decided he would return to the outpost, find himself something to eat, and then sleep. More battles were coming and the chances to extend the same courtesy to his other victims would be rare if they came at all. The third gryphon war had started. The gryphons had struck a blow and Equestria had struck back. The fuse was lit. The boulder had begun its rapid descent down the hill. Now it was up to him to see it through to the end.
Near the outskirts of the town, logs lay strewn about, roped together with soldered metal binds gripping around them, giving them extra reinforcement. Hammer Strike pulled at the rope in his teeth, raising another segment of the log wall they had built. Once he got far enough it fell into place, its movement halting as its metal joint locked into the previous segment. It stood, tall and firm. Rather than risk having the chance of stray arrows and bolts flying into the town, Hammer Strike had designed a rough barricade to raise around the the perimeter.
Letting go of the rope, he exhaled, observing their progress so far. A quarter of the city had been surrounded, which was thankfully the more populated segment. Civilians streamed past as they made their way for the shelters and places of retreat as thestrals and earth ponies guided them along. The thestrals had worked on camouflaging some bunkers to protect the fillies and children. Hammer Strike looked over the segment one last time to make sure it had connected properly before nodding in approval.
Hammer Strike made for the lumber yard at a speedy trot. He needed more logs to complete the barricade. The water sluice was in full swing as tree trunks floated down. Lunar Fang stood with the foreman, overseeing the volunteers who had donated their woodstocks to the defense of the town. Earth Ponies, Thestrals, Pegasi, and Unicorns sweat and worked together, cutting the logs, systematically pumping them through as they prepared them. For the first time in Equestrian history all the walls and petty preconceptions had been torn down. Minor Noble and commoner worked side by side for the common good and the livelihood of colts, mares, and foals. The air buzzed with magic as chips flew through the air. The unicorns were making good time on the trunks the Earth Ponies had dragged in. At this rate, the wall would hopefully be finished by nightfall.
“Are the next segments complete?” Hammer Strike called out to Lunar Fang.
“They are just binding them to the joint now.” Lunar Fang responded.
“Good.” Hammer Strike sighed. “I shall move it when it is ready,” He said, taking a moment to rest. “How go the battles?”
“Bloodier than I would have liked.” Lunar Fang admitted. “But we are holding our own out there.”
“How is the armor holding up for you?”
“It is proving true to your reputation.” She said. “Just a few minor nicks and scrapes.”
“It is difficult to be perfectly defended.” Hammer Strike commented. “At least it is serving you well.”
“I have never doubted it would. I trust your work, Lord Hammer Strike.” She said.
“That is good to know.” He looked over to the now finished segment. “Back to work, it seems…” He muttered as he stood back up.
Pensword stood still upon the parapet as he watched the column streaming away from Fort Lunar Fang. Colonel Hurricane was leaving and he was in charge now. He looked to Captain Hurricane briefly on his left before shifting his gaze back on the horizon. “We march tomorrow. We will leave a token defense here with orders to bunker down while we march. How go the raids to the enemy supply trains and outposts?”
“We are keeping them on their toes.” Hurricane responded. “Admittedly, the thestrals are surprising me with their ingenuity.” He saw Pensword give a now quite familiar smirk. Clearly he was pleased with this news as well as the unspoken compliment.
“Please, continue with your report. I would like to hear of the ingenuity. Also, are you glad we have the Thestrals helping now?” Pensword moved a wing to point to the forest. “Surely by now you shouldn’t be surprised. You had me to spar against back at Fort Jasmine, after all.” Pensword chuckled.
“The other day we were preparing to intercept a supply train on its way to Fort Triumph when I came across Thestrals digging pits. In my ignorance I reminded them that a pitfall trap was hardly even a hindrance to a gryphon at which they simply smiled to themselves and told me the pits were not traps.” He sighed a bit. “I couldn’t figure it out until half my thestral Troops began making a stable cover for the pits while the other half waited inside. They were using the pits to lie in wait. I never saw the gryphons so scared as when bat ponies began rising from the ground, weapons drawn and ready for combat.”
Pensword actually began to laugh. “I am sure that the news and stories shall begin to spread among the Gryphons. Yes, I ordered Grif to let one escape to spread the fear to the next Outpost.” He paused, cutting off his laughter as his face grew serious. “As I said before, we attack tomorrow. Cut off the supply lines and outer posts and they shall become blind to our locations. The dead rising as Bat Ponies.” he spat. “I hate that term,” He muttered. “Still, at least it is only the Gryphons calling us that. I hope none of your troops have used it. Or have they finally been broken of that particular habit?” Pensword turned from the ramparts. He could no longer see the troops marching away to Commandant Supreme Sunrise’s outpost. He had already sent a letter requesting more troops from both Princess Celestia, as well as High Chiefess Luna. He hoped the reply would come soon. He motioned for Hurricane III to follow after him to the main building.
“We have been working on it.” The Captain admitted. “It is not something easily erased from one's vocabulary.” He said, regretfully, as he looked across the expanse. “Still, if you keep leading these battles so fluidly, I do think Thestrals shall be lauded as the heroes of the country.”
“Thank you. Still, I must say that I have yet begun to fight.” Pensword muttered with a sly smirk. “The Gryphons took my pride of home from me. They left it in ruins. And the wounds that they left in that place will remain in my heart for the rest of my days. I shall do far worse to them. I shall humiliate them. They call themselves masters of warfare. I shall show them that a species of prey can be a better commander then they ever could be.” He looked at the door and the flag on the roof. “I am amazed that we had so few casualties. I like using the Dream Walkers. Sleepy and paranoid Gryphons make much better targets.”
“Grif has been working with our engineers to get their firing of the ballistas down. If all goes well, by next attack we shall have even less casualties than we had here.” Hurricane said.
“Good. Was that what I heard this morning? Also, how many have we built now? I hope more than just one for transport.” He paused at the door to the corner tower and nodded to an empty space near it. He held the door open, waited a moment, then walked on through. Hurricane followed after, his brows furrowed in confusion and concern.
“Have you been sleeping alright?” Hurricane asked.
“Yes, I have. Why do you ask?” Pensword asked with a turn before blinking. He had a feeling why, but he had to be sure. He turned his head back to face forward. “I am guessing you have a question. By all means, ask.”
“You have been addressing thin air,” Hurricane said. “It is quite hard to ignore sometimes.”
Pensword paused and looked back at Hurricane. “You were not at Fort Jasmine when ... right before it was abandoned.” He looked around, found an empty room, and ushered the pegasus inside. Barrels of powder and dried fruit lay scattered around the space. There did not appear to be any holes or windows for others to listen, so after a peremptory scan, Pensword got to the point. “Hurricane, how well do you know me? How stable do you think I am?”
“You are by far one of the most sensible ponies i have ever met. This is why such behavior worries me.”
Pensword nodded as he sat down against one of the walls. “Hurricane, do you know how I learned about the fall of my town? How I knew so quickly? Why I marched into Unity already with the war prizes of captured enemy colors and weapons?”
“There were rumors, but I never received the full story. So, no,” he answered. He noticed Pensword motioning with a hoof to go on. “Some say you went mad. Others said Faust herself sent you a vision of your town’s destruction. Some have even said you made a deal with tirek for omnisciency.”
Pensword just stared for a time before he shook head. “There is no way in Equestria I would ever make a deal with Tirek for anything. Of all that, the Faust theory might be the closest. I do not know exactly how, but I lived each life in that town as it was snuffed out.” He grimaced as he recalled the vision once again. “I still feel the phantom pains.” He got up and moved to another wall. “After that, I have seen the ghosts of the dead. I, I let in the Mayor’s wife just now. I cannot tell who is alive or dead unless they walk through a wall or stand in the middle of the table.” He closed his eyes. “The Gryphon Slayers know this, and the Thestrals, but not many others know this outside of you.” He looked up at his friend. “Can you help make sure I maintain control of this unit? I shall not allow any of those lesser nobles or sons of high nobles try to take this command from me. You heard your father. I lead the Troops. I just need noble blood to help cement that order. I have hit the ceiling for unlanded soldiers to rise above their merits, Captain.”
“Then maybe there is still an answer to your problem.” Captain Hurricane clapped a hoof on pensword’s shoulder. “Nevertheless, your blood is far more noble than mine even if some are too blind to recognise it. I will do everything in my power to help you.”
“I am just a warrior protecting my homeland.” Pensword muttered as he stood up. “I shall fetch my Pitchfork. I think I will go with the next patrol.” He declared. “Thank you for your help. And your words. Even if something were to happen, I know it would be due to outside forces thou couldst not prevent.”
“Let us show them who they have trifled with,” Hurricane said with a salute.
“Thank you, Captain.” Pensword replied with a return salute. “Now, I shall need to get ready. While I am out, you are in command of the fort. Do not let her fall, or Lunar Fang shall be coming after you.” Pensword said, his tone hovering between serious and joking. “Take care, Hurricane.” he muttered.
“Be safe, my friend.” Hurricane responded.
Hammer Strike smiled as the last segment of wall locked in place. It was midday and he was pleasantly surprised to have finished so early. Giving a nod, he stepped back and gave the wall one last look over, making sure every piece connected properly with the others. He gave it a solid kick for good measure. The thick beams vibrated, carrying around the wall and back again, but at least they held.
Nodding in approval, Hammer Strike negligently stepped aside as a gryphon arrow embedded itself into the ground near his hoof. The long shaft carried a message tied with a red ribbon and sealed with wax in the shape a strange looking shield. It resembled a bird’s talon with a paw print imposed behind it.
Raising a brow in question he grabbed the message and broke the seal, opening it to reveal its contents.
‘To Lord Hammer Strike of Equestria,
It seems that with the battle going at its present pace it will be some time before we meet in combat. So I say why not speed things up a bit? I, the honorable general Steelclaw Talonfang, hereby issue you a personal challenge. Let the two of us meet tomorrow at noon on the field of battle. You may bring a maximum of five with you to witness your defeat, one acting as your second. No harm will come to you until our battle, and they will be allowed to retreat afterwards. If you accept this challenge then we shall see if ‘Celestia’s Ghost’ lives up to his name.
Until our blades meet in glorious combat,
General Steelclaw Talonfang of Gryphonia.’
Hammer Strike shrugged, putting the message in his coat pocket. “I think I could take a fifteen minute break at that time…” He said to himself as he walked towards the entrance of the city.
Lunar Fang galloped to the wall with a squad of soldiers. “Lord Hammer Strike! A wall guard said an arrow made its way over the barricade at this spot. Are you ok?” she asked.
“Yes, I am fine. The arrow just had a message on it challenging me to a duel to the death with their general.” He responded.
There was a moment of silence. “WHAT?” Many voices echoed simultaneously.
“Oh, you know, just a one on one duel. Nothing really intense.” He shrugged, pulling the message out.
“You do know gryphon generals have to fight for their rank, correct?” Lunar Fang asked. “They are among the most skilled of the warriors.”
Hammer Strike raised a brow. “At least it will be an entertaining duel then.” He shrugged. “He wanted me to bring others to watch my ‘downfall.’” He shook his head. “I shall just go alone most likely.”
“You are not walking up to a gryphon general alone.” Lunar Fang stomped a hoof in agitation.
“You want to come and watch then?” He asked.
“Want doesn’t seem to be the proper term.” she said. “If you must accept this duel, then I will act as your second.”
“Okay.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “Tomorrow at noon ‘on the field of battle.’”
“I don’t know if I find your attitude overconfident or psychotic.” Lunar Fang sighed. She turned to the guard. “Go warn the troops. It seems we will have a duel tomorrow.” she said.
“I tend to find little entertainment in these battles.” Hammer Strike responded.
“Maybe but it will do the troops good to see the legend in combat,” Lunar Fang said. Hammer Strike rolled his eyes jokingly in response before heading off to the forge.
Pensword’s left eye twitched as he heard the hoof steps of the next patrol fading into the distance. In the last hour he’d had two rival noble houses march into his outpost. And now, standing watch he could hear the two Unicorn stallions from Noble houses Sharp Blade and Jade Sphere arguing over who was to take command. Captain Hurricane was currently on another patrol chasing down a minor army of about five hundred Gryphons marching to their location. He held up a wing and was still ignored. Pensword huffed and turned around to walk away when his right ear twitched and he turned to walk towards a shouting match. He could hear Blue Vase clearly enough, but the other voice was new.
“I don’t care if your were the personal doctor for Princess Celestia. This is a military post and I am in charge of all medical operations here. I demand you wash your hooves before seeing to the patients. These orders come from Colonel Hurricane, himself.”
“Are you saying I am unclean like some common earth pony?” The other voice, female, growled back. Pensword turned the corner into the tent and saw a white Unicorn bearing a staff with red ribbons wrapped around it, a medical symbol of the time period. “I am a doctor, and I keep my hooves clean.” Pensword was amazed he snuck up on the new doctor without her hearing him.
“What is going on here?” He smirked as Blue Vase rolled her eyes while the other doctor jumped a good bit off the ground before landing and turning around. “Oh, it’s the assistant to Lord Hurricane’s son.” She snorted. “I think you two will be pleased to know that a leader is being decided and hopefully it is my own liege, Dark Jade.”
“I doubt it. Colonel Hurricane made specific orders that his son and I be left in command, and Captain Hurricane has chosen me to plan the assault on Fort Triumph.” His tone had an edge to it.
“Yes, yes.” the doctor muttered. “Still, that is because there were no full blooded lords or dukes in charge of troops. Now that we have noble blood of age again, they shall take command. I see no reason why you Pegasi still prefer military ranks over the ranks of nobility.”
Blue Vase beat Pensword to the punch. “Because,” She growled. “Nobility is given to you on a silver platter. To the Pegasi, our ranks and leaders were earned by hard work. To become a Colonel, you prove your worth to be promoted. Why do you think it has always been a Pegasus who was in charge of the military in times of war?”
“How …? Do you know who I am? I am Doctor Pure Heart: Personal Physician to House Jade Sphere.”
She was suddenly interrupted as Little Willow entered into the tent. “Blue Vase? I found that wild ivy that you were needing.” she shouted as she headed to one of the patient’s beds. Stopping to wash her hooves in the basin, she turned to the pony. I really don’t see what you meant, though the infection does appear to be withdrawing.” she said as she started unwrapping the bandaged leg of the pony in front of her.
Pensword smirked a little. He knew that the magic to see the microscopic was still generations away so he could not just blow up a blood sample. “Actually, it was my own command.”
“Superstitions.” The doctor roared, waving her hooves in exasperation. “You are letting a Pegasus taught by Thestrals lead your medical field?” She shook her head. “Unbelievable.”
“Actually, it was,” He trailed off as he got a glare from the doctor before he swallowed and returned the glare. This was not his cardiologist. He was in charge this time. This time he was not going to listen to this Doctor because she was wrong. For the first time in his life, he had to do something he never dreamed of doing: disregard a Doctor’s advice. Fortunately, his life as a member of the thestral clans had improved his glare significantly. Breaking through her offense, his glare prevented any more words from Pure Heart. “Finished? Good. Now listen. I do not know why, but I feel that washing hooves and paws, and boiling water for the instruments between procedures may help prevent spread of infection and sickness. We are short enough on siege troops as it is. So we will do things my way. Stay healthy. And if I learn you break my orders, You shall find yourself back in Unity helping some orphanage for the rest of the war.”
The tent flap opened as Grif walked in. “Pensword?” he looked around, spotting the pony in question. “I understand you’ve been having trouble with some of the ‘help’ that’s come in. I just talked to the nobles and they are much more willing to listen to reason now. After all, I speak for Lord Hammer Strike’s authority on this matter. And house strike has chosen to back you for this attack.” Grif shot a look at Pure Heart. “Was there any other coup de tate’s going on that needed to be handled?”
“More like a slight against the medical profession. We are not farmers, nor do we forge weaponry. Why do we need to wash our hooves and wear masks when we are to see our patients? Also, boiling instruments? That is time wasted that could be used helping others.”
“I see…” Grif said “Tell me, doctor….” he trailed off expectantly.
“Pure Heart.” She growled back. “What Lord Hammer Strike sees in a Gryphon being let about in medical tents is beyond me. The field or elsewhere, but not in my domain. Look at the fur, the feathers… when did you last have a decent brushing? Dust and dirt in your fur…” She shook her head. “Did you dig a pit or something?”
“Several trenches, actually.” Grif laughed “Had to bury a lot of bodies. Can’t leave them to rot. Spreads plague, you know. Tell me, doctor. If a pony is run through but the sword blade avoids anything vital, what are their chances of living with you as their surgeon?”
“Frankly, a wound like that is fatal no matter the surgeon. Best option is to keep them comfortable, and maybe give them an Opium plant to dull the pain.”
“Really. You don’t say. We currently have several such ponies back on active duty at the moment. Many of them have survived for well over two weeks. Field medic Blue Vase and Little Willow have performed the operation themselves hoof fulls of times and very few have died from it. What about, may I ask, a severed limb?”
“Maybe move about with a wheelchair, but also maimed for life if they survive the removing of the limb. Another horrible fate, but one that is somewhat survivable.” She replied with a slightly raised eyebrow at what she was told concerning these survivors.
“Somewhat survivable?” Grif raised an eyebrow in turn. “One would think if treated effectively it would be survivable on most occasions. I’m sorry doctor pure heart but i do not see how you qualify for head surgeon in this outpost if you cannot assure your patient’s every chance of survival.” grif said. “You are asking me to trade practices which have served this outpost effectively for practices that would hinder us. I do not believe my lord would ever support your assertion, and as such, my lord will continue to back major Pensword’s chosen practices in this matter. Should I hear you have been disobedient to his wishes, you will be sent to the stocks.” Grif allowed himself a malevolent gin. “I’m sure your lord’s cousin, clouded jade, would enjoy the company.”
“What did that insufferable idiot do this time?” She muttered before snorting a little. “He was always warned to behave or Celestia or Luna might reprimand him.” She giggled next. “Might have to see that sight. Serves him right for ruining my pink apron.”
“He struck an earth pony for ignoring him because he was busy fletching arrows,” Grif said. “Oh yes, my lord is very picky about equal treatment within the army and fully supports Pensword’s policy’s on such things. I hope you do not have trouble with that, pure heart.” Grif shot her a glare. “I will, in my patience, let your comment to me from earlier slide. As a sign of good will.”
Her expression froze before turning to one of outrage. “You, that is, that is just a simple Earth Pony who was not showing the proper respect of the nobles.” She opened her mouth when Pensword stepped forward and puffed his chest and ruffled his feathers making for a most intimidating appearance.
“He saved your noble cousin’s life. We are in an active war zone. Any show of deference of that kind could mean his end.” He paused and held the stare as he voiced another question. “What is Hammer Strike?”
“A noble.” She responded. “A particular favorite of Princess Celestia and Princess Luna.”
“Right. So, what tribe is Lord Hammer Strike from?” he asked as he moved to his left, her right.
“Earth pony.” She replied matter of factly.
“Do you see him dropping what he does when another noble visits?” he asked with a slight Mmm at the end of the question.
“...No.” She said, hesitating slightly.
“Well, seeing as Lord Hammer Strike is the head Noble and is delegating the menial tasks to those under him, I would suggest we follow his orders or he might put us all in the stocks.” He knew he would never do it, but it never hurt to use the culture to bring about a better result. “Or shall you wish to bring this up to him in the form of a letter?”
“No… Of course not. I will have my ponies briefed on the new procedures as soon as possible.” she said sweating a bit as she looked around uncomfortably.
“Very well,” Pensword replied, looking a little more cheerful. “Just be sure to go through training with your staff. All shall go through training. Even I went through training.” He paused and looked Pure Heart eye to eye. “Am I understood?”
Grif smiled as the mare nodded vigorously. “Well, I have been up all night so i will be heading to my tent now. You know me, pensword. Lack of sleep can make me ridiculously short tempered.” He smiled as he left, shifting a conspiratory glance around the room. “Wouldn’t want to snap and accidentally string someone up by their own spinal column for annoying me,” he said as he left.
Pensword glared at Grif. “You are dismissed for rest. But if you do that, I shall Pluck out your feathers one by one and force feed them to you.” He replied with a stern look. “Maybe the crown feathers as well.” he turned and left the opposite way that Grif had left, leaving only Blue Vase, Little Willow, and Pure Heart in the tent.
“Well, we should get back to that infection,” Blue Vase said washing her hooves and moving to where willow stood with the patient. Pure heart quietly made her exit, suddenly a lot less confident than she was before.
Across from Fillydelphia the gryphon camp stood, a cold, stark wave of canvas and black tipped feathers. Tents and banners stood proudly, guarded by constant changes of the guard. The horrible smell of burnt pony flesh wafted from it constantly. At precisely eleven thirty horns began to sound from the camp as a small band made their way into no man’s land. At the head marched General Steelclaw, arrayed in his shining, ornate armor, carefully polished and prepared for this fight. At his side a large round shield was strapped to his foreleg with the embellishment of a taloned foot imposed over a lion's paw. On his back a long wicked looking halberd with a serrated blade waited to be drawn. Behind him marched several less adorned gryphons each wearing iron armor that was nicked and scratched from combat. The gryphons marched along until they stood at half distance between the camp and Fillydelphia.
On the other side, two ponies walked toward the middle ground. Hammer Strike wore no armor save a set of shoulder pauldrons over his blue and gold overcoat that he wore at all times. His typical flat expression showing on his face. At his side Lunar Fang decked out in her full armor that Hammer Strike had crafted for her. She looked to her side and spoke under her breath. “I sure hope you have something planned.” She looked back at the Gryphons. “Please tell me you heard the story where a fighter wore a metal plate under his tunic?” She looked to the others. “I know you. You like having armor and protection. This is not like you.”
“You also know I like surprises…” Hammer Strike commented with a smirk. Reaching over quickly he tapped his foreleg. The sound of jingling metal answered. Lunar Fang only returned the smirk.
As the two met, the general and a smaller gryphon approached Hammer Strike and Lunar Fang. “And so you come. As I knew you would.” the gryphon smiled. “Welcome to your end, Hammer Strike.”
“I had some free time.” Hammer Strike shrugged.
“As promised, when I defeat you, your second will be allowed to return to tell of my victory.” The gryphon said.
“I believe your idea of defeat and my own are quite different.” Hammer Strike said. “So, what now?”
“I will have my entourage back away twenty paces and you will do the same. Then we will put this to rest, agreed?” The gryphon asked.
“Okay, then.” Hammer Strike said simply.
The gryphon looked back and nodded to his second who returned to the other gryphons, all of whom moved back the appointed distance. Hammer Strike, on that note, turned and told Lunar Fang. “Find a good vantage point.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asked as she looked at the Gryphons, showing she was going to move. “Just ... are you sure?” Her tone showed worry for her friend.
“Aww, that is adorable. You think he is a threat.” Hammer gave a dark smile. “Sit back there and enjoy the show. But be warned, the first three rows are a splash zone.”
Lunar Fang blinked. That was all she did before she moved back, standing a good distance away but still close enough to observe the battle. She looked to the Gryphons who were to watch and observe this battle, before turning back to the two combatants.
The gryphon general drew the halberd from his back and held it in a single talon towards Hammer Strike.
On that note Hammer Strike drew his famous great sword from his back which was, of course, too big for most ponies, yet he wielded it perfectly fine. He had no flare to his stance and seemed both bored and slightly annoyed.
For a long moment there was a silence between the two, words hung unspoken in the air as each eyed their opponent. One with a predatory gaze, trying to find any signs of a sudden attack, the other with a bored expression, urging his opponent to just get on with it already. Finally, the gryphon charged ahead, bringing his halberd down for a vertical sweep at Hammer Strike. The earth pony barely acknowledged the force as he raised his blade to block. The gryphon took advantage of this to push ahead with his shield, momentarily knocking the earth pony back.
Hammer Strike returned with a with a diagonal thrust which the gryphon dodged by moving back under the power of his wings. Spinning the halberds he thrust forward himself with his longer weapon surpassing even the reach of Hammer Strikes sword. As Hammer Strike dodged, the blade bit slightly into his shoulder where the pauldrons lifted up but the earth pony seemed not to notice the injury or care as he grabbed the shaft of the halberd and brought his sword down on the gryphons back. The armor held preventing any serious injuries but the pain came like a typhoon to the gryphon as his wings and back muscles screamed.
Grimacing, the gryphon knocked Hammer Strike away with his shield again. The earth pony only just backed off from the sweep of the halberd, the flat of the blade smacking against his lower leg. Though if this seriously hurt, Hammer Strike he didn't seem to give any signs. The gryphon charged again with his shield but this time Hammer Strike moved to the side before slicing behind the shield, destroying the leather straps keeping it attached to the gryphon’s leg. the shield rolled away and the gryphon growled.
Lunar Fang blinked and widened her eyes a little. Did she just …? Yes, she did see Hammer Strike’s facial expression change. Her next thought in her head was that this was going to end quickly. Hammer Strike losing his bored expression during the last few months taught her one thing. When the bored expression left things would happen fast.
Without the shield the gryphon was able to place both clawed hands onf the shaft of the halberd. His strikes became more rapid and powerful as he charged ahead. Hammer Strike blocked and parried repeatedly. To the outside eye it would seem as if he was losing ground fast. Finally the sword blade caught against the halberd’s head and the two weapons locked as both combatants put their weight behind their weapons. The gryphon lashed out with his claw tearing a large cut on the back of Hammer Strike’s coat. However, this exposed the metal plates beneath and the gryphon’s claws found no purchase against them.
The deadlock was broken when the metal of the halberd head ground before finally giving up its fight as Hammer Strike’s blade cleaved the head off the shaft. The gryphon managed to parry fast enough to avoid getting hit himself, but now he was facing Hammer Strike with nothing more than a sharpened stick. To his credit the general merely growled and charged forward in an attempt to spear the pony through. Hammer Strike spun to the side his blade forming a wide 360 degree arc as it swung. Hammer Strike never even felt the resistance against the blade and was therefore unaware of his damage until he heard the gurgling. Looking behind him, he saw the gryphon clutching his throat as blood poured from his beak. The entourage looked on in surprise and horror.
A dark smile came to Hammer Strike as he fully turned on his foe. Walking towards him, he cracked his neck and gave his blade one last look before fully turning his dark grin on the griffon. “Do not worry… I shall make this quick.” The sword gleamed in the mid-day sun before he let it fall. The gryphon’s head bounced along the road, the small trench formed by the blow in the earth filling with a tiny rivulet of blood.
The gryphon’s body slumped to the ground. From Fillydelphia’s walls a horn rang out, echoing, followed by a loud cheer.
Raising his brow Hammer Strike reached into his overcoat and pulled out a pocket watch. Opening it he took note of the time.
“Huh… Ten minutes.” He frowned. “I guess I have five minutes to spare.”
The gryphons looked at Hammer Strike in fear. The general’s second approached defensively. “You have slain the general. What will be done with his remains?” he asked.
“Eh, do what you want. I honestly do not care what is done.”
The gryphon nodded as the others quickly took the body while he grabbed the head and they left.
“That ...” Lunar Fang slowly spoke as she walked up to him. “You defeated their toughest warrior. You defeated the General.” She smirked a little as they heard the sound of horns and metal beating metal. “You also just opened up a big rank for others to fight for. Hammer Strike, you just gave us time to rest while they fight, as well as deal with the piecemeal attacks. We should head back to the wall before we overstay our welcome on the field of battle though.” She moved to pick up the Halberd, as tradition dictated from Grif’s lecture. The winner took the shield, the second would take the weapon to carry back to the victorious camp, which was, at the moment, a Pony camp. The Gryphons would learn, she thought to herself, that the ponies were not the weaklings they thought they were.
Hammer Strike looked over to the shield before shrugging and grabbing it. “Well, now what?”
“I believe the troops will want to congratulate you in person, my lord.” Lunar Fang said. “You may have to extend your break.”
“Let us get it over with then.” Hammer Strike said, starting in the direction of Fillydelphia. “I need to find a tailor.”
Pensword looked from his hoof-made bush guise as he watched the storm clouds beginning to rumble over the horizon. This storm front was, or would be recorded, as the biggest Pegasus storm ever built . He shivered a little from the cold winds. Blinking back the tears from his watering eyes, he gazed on the fortress. It had been built into the side of the mountain wall, nestled in the edge of a valley. The west wall was steep, carved out by some geological event in the past. The East wall rose gently, giving the Fortress an easy view all around. Also due to its natural location, it was nigh impossible to besiege. There were rumors of a natural spring under the fortress, and food to be grown within the outer walls.
Pensword looked to the map that Grif had drawn. There were three walls. The outer wall produced and kept food stock for the Gryphons. The secondary wall area protected the living and mustering grounds. While the inner wall protected an area that even he did not get access to, however Pensword knew what it was due to reading his own history. The inner wall was to protect the thrones of the kings and Emperor of the Gryphons. This Fortress was built to be either a retreat for the Gryphon Royals, or a headquarters for any personal campaigning they might want to do. His ears twitched as the thunder pealed overhead. They had surrounded the fortress under cover of darkness. And after the last three days of constant raids and attacks, the Gryphons had informally withdrawn from the surrounding area into the main fortress. Captain Hurricane was finishing up a two pronged raid on the last outposts and would arrive in the next two weeks. Four weeks from today they would begin the assault. That should give enough time for the Dream Stalkers to have their way.
Pensword looked at the Thestrals around him. “Begin the Nightmares.” He turned to another Thestral, small and stealthy, perfect for his next order. “Launch the Ballistas. I want lightning attracted to this fortress as soon as possible. With a loud twang the fired from the forest and embedded into the walls. Soon after, a clever mechanical device released, allowing the metal bars attached to the bolt to extend. The Gryphons that were patrolling the walls did not move to investigate this as the sudden sound of shrieks came rising from the sleeping quarters. They rushed off the parapets to investigate. The cries filled the air, echoing around through the compound as they bounced from wall to wall. The natural wall of the cliff face acted as an acoustic amplifier. Pensword smiled with glee. He looked to the ghosts next to him. “Captain of Mountainside Militia, your revenge has begun. I allow your men to hunt the dreams of your killers.” He looked to the walls as he saw the shadows fade away. Then he blinked as he felt something on his back.
He looked to his right and smiled. “Mom, shall I be released from this path once we take Triumph?” He asked, his voice showing weariness. “I,” he trailed off, before beginning again. “I want this to be over when Triumph falls.”
“Then shall it be. Once you take Triumph, only we, your family, shall visit for things other than revenge. I ... I am sorry I never could tell you what I knew.”
“I know,” Pensword’s voice broke. “It is one thing to know and have it happen. it is another to have it happen to yourself and know it to be a defining moment that will shape an entire life.” He blinked and felt his mother hug him. “I miss you, mom. And I just hope I do not join you on the other side too soon.”
She smirked. “Really now? You know you live for a while yet. You know you live long enough to give me a Grand Foal.” She smiled at the blush that filled his cheeks. “I am your mother. I can say that. I also can say that you will make all of us proud.”
“Yes, but… what if I was there? I could. If I knew already I could have saved some lives, could I not?” He looked to the walls again. “I have already had men die under my command. I sent lives to join you,” His voice cut off as his mother clicked her tongue.
“Don’t blame yourself.” She saw him wince. “You don’t like contractions?” Her voice was playful. She was trying to cheer him up. “Each one of you swore to give your lives if needed to protect Equestria. Do not think of the lives. Think on the war and preventing the Gryphons from having any more high level leaders.” She released him and moved to stand in front of her son. “Do not kill all the Gryphons. You shall need one to empty the city at the other end of the valley. Or do you wish to kill civilians as well?”
Pensword’s expression darkened. “I shall not stoop to their level. Thank you for the tip mom, I shall keep that in mind. My orders shall be carried out.” He was very happy that only Thestrals were with him at the moment. He knew that some of the reports were calling him the Broken leader. He frowned as he looked to the walls. He even used that in one of his reports to Luna. He did not move as the night drew longer and colder and the rain started to fall, a rain that would not let up for at least another week… the cloud cover would not cease till a month later. The tears of loss, as he called this front, were starting to fall.
“War.” Lunar Fang sighed, looking out at the gryphon army. “War never changes.” Two days had past in which the gryphon officers had fought battles and dueled to see who would be promoted to which open post when it became open by the last one being promoted. Looking over their numbers Lunar Fang could already notice a significant cut in their forces from the last time they had seen it. The Thestral looked behind her to observe the wall around Fillydelphia.
The logs stood upright and connected in segments of four, all bonded together by steel braces around the upper half and lower half of the segments. From what she could remember from Hammer Strike’s description, each segment was made to connect to each other to ensure that it would remain upright. Near the top of the wall the logs were sharpened, giving a point to each one and on the other side, inside the walls, there were platforms set up to have ponies keep watch and make sure there were no griffons in sight.
She looked at the ponies and thestrals surrounding her, the walls of Fillydelphia were currently being guarded by civilian volunteers who had been roughly trained on what to do should there be a breach. Every trained warrior and soldier she had with her was currently next to her. Her thestral kin looked on at the gryphons, a desire burning in their eyes to bite into the enemy. Unicorns stood at the back of the army, spells prepared for lobbing and guarding. Earth ponies and pegasi brandished their weapons somewhere between nervous and determined.
The events that were sure to come wore heavily on Lunar Fang’s shoulders. It was likely many of these ponies would not see another sunset. She took a deep breath. “Is all prepared?” She asked. “Is everypony present and ready?”
“It seems like it.” She heard Hammer Strike respond as he walked up to her.
Everypony perked up instantly at the sound of the legendary noble’s voice. Murmuring and whispers swept through the army. Hammer Strike, or as the general had called him, ‘Celestia’s Ghost,’ was going to fight with them. How could they lose? Lunar fang shook her head at the whispers.
“Is that him?”
“Of course it is.”
“Celestia’s Ghost. Did you see him on the battlefield?”
“I did. He took out that Gryphon like it was nothing.”
How that name had spread so quickly, she would never know. But at least it seemed to boost the troops’ morale. And at the moment, that was all that mattered.
“Welcome, Lord Hammer Strike.” She said “We did not expect you on the battlefield today.”
“I had some free time. Figured I could spend it doing something productive.” He replied.
“Have anything to say to the troops before the charge?”
“Be sure to put our equipment to good use.” He gave a small smile.
Lunar Fang turned to the gryphons as she drew her sword. “I don’t ask you to fight for Equestria, for the sun or the moon. Fight for the families of Fillydelphia! Charge!” she pointed her sword as they roared across the battlefield, one united body bound by a common love of life.
Pensword looked to the clouds as the rainfall slowly tapered off. The clouds remained, dark and ominous. He looked to the walls, then to Grif, who was busy cleaning one of his weapons. “How many got through?”
“One.” Grif muttered darkly. “I do not know why you wanted to let one of them through.” His tone of voice clearly showed how miffed he was at the order. “I wouldn’t have trusted any of them,” he said testing his sword on a hair. It split evenly against the blade.
“Because,” Pensword smirked, “I want the Gryphons to know that their precious Fortress is under siege. That by the time that their troops come, we shall have won. The siege is already a week in. The troops are showing signs of fear, paranoia, and sleep deprivation. We are building ladders and digging tunnels to sap at the walls.” He looked to Grif. “Plus, a nightmare rattled Gryphon coming from a besieged fortress ... I want to see how many armies will actually listen … and how many will even make it past the forest. We have other smaller noble armies marching through the Equestrian countryside looking for raiders or solo fighters. I doubt the runners will live very long in a nation that is out for Gryphon.” He looked around before looking to the wall, happy they were alone. “This is a little better than Earth. Here you know the shape of your enemy. That makes it both a little easier and a little harder.”
He paused as Grif moved to the shadows. He soon knew the reason why as one of the Nobles came trotting up to his side. They had slowly been bringing troops in to populate the forest and construct more Ballistae. They now numbered around seven, each firing metal rods into the walls and towers. Lightning was always cracking and the Gryphons would now avoid the outer wall as much as possible. In fact, he saw one Gryphon try to march along the wall only to trip and fall over. His clumsy attempts to stop from falling and tumble over the wall were useless, his wet wings unable to provide the necessary lift. Because of a large hill, no pony saw the Gryphon hit the ground. Pensword knew he could take the first wall at any moment. But he knew that the Gryphons were still a problem in this state. He would have to wait for them to become so paranoid that they would attack each other, or barricade themselves into areas of the fortress. For now, he would wait and see.
Pensword blinked as the Noble cleared his throat and he suddenly realized he had done so more than once. The noble had a clearly annoyed expression. “Yes? What is it?”
“When are we assaulting? We can take the fortress now.” The Noble was keeping his voice low, as ordered from his arrival.
“No, not yet.” Pensword replied. “The Gryphons will allow the water to dry and then they could fly and attack from the air. Let them continue fo now. We will let mildew and other water based life grow on their feathers. They are tired and soon they will start to miss a few things. Besides, I must await Captain Hurricane’s forces. They are still a few days away and then we need to finish the ladders to confuse the Gryphons. Not to mention we need to finish the new troops’ training and some of the caves that shall be caved in to destroy the outer wall. Also, when we attack it will be from the clouds as well. We also need to finish construction of our attack ram.” He looked to the Noble. “Morale right now would tip in their favor. We look like we can win, but if we attack now, it shall improve their morale and we risk becoming routed and retreating with casualties we cannot fully afford at the moment. Your cousins have already whittled two small armies out of my forces. I am down by two hundred Ponies. I need all the ponies I can. Even with Hurricane I shall only have at most two thousand fighters compared to easily five thousand Gryphons in that fortress. The nightmares and the rain are giving us what we need to win. Otherwise it would be a stalemate.” He closed his eyes. “Also, was it not your troops that let the gryphon runners through in the first place?”
“Cowards.” The Noble replied. “I sent them back to their homes.” The noble spat. “Surely these runners shall be killed by the Gryphons for their fleeing of battle and abandoning their posts. I thought it would be ironic if it was by their own people that they find death.”
“They were runners with messages. What you just let through our lines could very well lead to our downfall. The enemy armies shall come now. And when they do come, pray to faust we are inside those walls.” He did not care that Grif was the backup. He had used that moment to gain a little more control and authority of the military ranks. Any small increase to his side and not in the side this puffed up noble or that arrogant noble left at Fort Lunar Fang was a good event. Time, hopefully, would work for him. He prayed it would work. “I have an order. No Gryphons alive save for Grif. He has promised to stuff my pillow with feathers fom every Gryphon who killed at my home.” He paused a moment. “We will also allow one Gryphon who is to evacuate the civilian towns at the other end of the valley before we attack. Or do you want to shed more blood?”
The noble from house Jade shook his head. “Nay, I shall not. I am no Pegasus, nor do I have their blood as thou and thy winged brethren have. I shall… follow the orders better.”
“See to it. Or you shall be on picket duty taking my own spot.” He smirked, knowing that his post was one of the more dangerous ones. The noble shook his head, trembling. “Fine. Still, you are to go out and maintain the cordon. Take some of my ‘blood lust brethren,’ as you called us, with you, and not your Unicorn cohorts.”
The noble slipped away looking a little nervous, but did as he was told, pointing to a group of resting Thestrals who nodded and followed the Noble. Pensword looked back to the wall and just watched.
He managed a small smile. He had stamped out bat bird and some of the other derogatory terms for Thestrals in the camp. Although he did not mind being called blood lusted brethren as that was a Unicorn phrase for Pegasi as well. So if it was use for Thestrals too, he was fine ... for the moment at least. “One step at a time.” he muttered.
Pensword paused and looked to his right, this time with a better smile. One of the Thestrals from the Gryphon Slayers was walking through the forest. He shook his head and the caked mud flaked from his mane and tail, revealing his namesake. “Midnight Prism: What is your report?”
“Well, Commander.” he smirked at Pensword’s grimace. “What? You speak to Commander Hurricane as an equal.” Midnight Prism chuckled. “Come, Moon Kicker is going to take your sentry post. And I am to teach you more on your Thestral gifts.”
Pensword nodded his head and waited while Moon Kicker, a full blooded Thestral, appeared at his side before he moved out of the small depression he had carved for himself. Pensword stretched his legs and moved slowly to the back of the siege camp in the forest, accompanied by Midnight Prism. Here lay a segment completely controlled by Thestrals. Here, the Dream Hunters lived. And here, Pensword would be taught by one of the others who had the Sight Beyond on how to both control and utilize his gift.
The fields of Fillydelphia glowed red once more as the carnage renewed. The Gryphons had charged the lines, trying their hardest to blot the sky with their bodies to intimidate the defenders of the city. There was only problem. They were shaking as Celestia’s Ghost take the field, wielding what looked like a giant size smithing hammer combined with the meat tenderizers that many of the Gryphon leaders had used on pony flesh.
The battle cries and clashing of steel drowned out the other sounds around Hammer Strike’s senses as he struck yet another enemy down. Around him a small group of archers stood, acting as his body guards. He had fought through the lines, and yet in the ever-changing organic flow of a battle field, he found himself on the right flank as a group of five Gryphons flew fast over head. One of them let out a shriek as he reeled into a nearby pine tree, his wing and bones snapping on impact as he crashed to the ground. A single arrow protruded from his neck, leaving only four to continue to the Gryphon camp.
“Good shot.” Hammer Strike complimented
The archers were quick in their assessment. The dead Gryphon was a messenger. Searching his body, they found a satchel filled with a hard wooden case unopened and sealed by a crest that Hammer Strike did not even bother to look at as he cracked it open, up ended the case, and let a roll of parchment fall out, landing in his hooves. He broke the seal on the parchment and unfurled it to read:
‘Fort triumph is under attack. Reinforcements denied. Regroup to Fort Triumph. was all he could make out in the message. There appeared to be a lot more information, but it was either encrypted or there was not enough time to read and decipher it.
Hammer Strike smirked. It would appear that Pensword had begun his attack on Fort Triumph. He could not understand Gyphic well, but Grif had been able to teach him enough to get the basics. The Gryphons needed help. He wasn’t about to let them have it.
Looking up, he focused on the battle around him, trying to find Lunar Fang.
To his mild amusement, Lunar Fang found him as a gryphon moving behind Hammer Strike was ran through and pinned to the ground.
“Not like you to leave your back open.” She noted.
“Order your troops to let none escape.” He said. “They are trying to retreat to Fort Triumph.”
Lunar Fang needed no further explanation. Turning back, she cried over the combat. “LET NONE ESCAPE!” Moments later a horn sounded signaling the orders to the rest of the ponies.
The Gryphons were already on the move, trying to disengage from the enemy and beat a hasty retreat to their defensive lines. However, the bulk of the Gryphon forces were still on the field. As they began to move back to their side some of the more inexperienced leaders, who had literally killed to be in their spots, were suddenly surrounded by fleeing Gryphons. somewhere along the line the orderly withdrawal had turned into a full scale retreat. Thanks to the general uproar, it was much easier for the Equestrian forces to pick off those at the back. Then came the first instance of a Gryphon cutting another Gryphon off. This immediately resulted in a duel of honor which soon spread into a small skirmish between rival units. It was utter chaos as the Equestrian forces approached. Gryphon smote upon Gryphon in a free for all melee attack for the right to flee first.
“Well, that makes our job easier…” Hammer Strike muttered to himself.
Pensword sat back in his tent as his ears took in the sounds around him. A moment later they twitched and he looked up, smiling with joy as his brother in arms came into the tent. “Captain, report.” his voice clearly showed relief at seeing Captain Hurricane alive and well.
“The assaults were a complete success. we have a line of empty and cursed lands for the Gryphons to find. We buried the Gryphons but left the wings nailed to the walls as ordered. The Outposts shall not be reoccupied.”
Pensword nodded his head. “Leaving them with only one option for retreat. We’ll funnel them right into the corridor we set up. And we’ll be ready for them. Nets, pits, poisoned honey, those Gryphons will not make it through alive. Whatever troops do happen to make it to this area shall be exhausted, angry, and then be set upon by the nightmares of my Dream Stalkers. This place shall become their final battle ground.” He looked to his friend. “You wish to say something.”
“I have heard you are wishing to keep a Gryphon alive to save civilians. I support the action. I do not want to order the killing of an innocent town.” He looked to his friend. “What about you?”
“I am concerned with beating the Gryphon Military. Civilians are not a target. If any of the Military does hide in the Civilian ranks, Grif shall be the one to root them out. Also, Once this valley is secured, I am sending you off to lead forces into Gryphon territories. I plan on staying here and securing the valley for Equestria.”
Captain Hurricane looked shocked. “Surely you wish to march into Gryphon territory yourself; to bring the battle to them.”
“Captain, this valley is one of the major paths between the border. I do not trust any others but myself to hold this valley. I only want to take this fortress. That is all I want to do, because it shall be my revenge upon the Gryphons. After that, I shall secure and fortify this region against any attacks from the enemy. I have no intention of giving in to bloodlust as they did.” He looked to his friend. “Dismissed. Proper debriefing in two hours. Get some chow.”
He waited till his friend had left before looking down at the map he had been sketching. He was not preparing for Gryphon attacks alone. This place would be made into a sanctuary for the Thestrals during Nightmare Moon’s banishment. He jerked his head up as he heard something approaching his tent.
A gryphon, or rather, what had once been a Gryphon, flew into the tent and landed in a heap of wings, feather, and claws near Pensword. He could see it had been beaten rather badly. Moments later, Grif walked into the tent, scratched with blood running down his arm, but otherwise with no major wounds as he sheathed a bloody stiletto. “Looks like you had a visitor, pensword” he said.
Pensword got up and walked over to the Gryphon before letting out a startled gasp. “This one is still alive.” He stepped around the Gryphon. “Do you want him to answer or shall you answer, my Ghost of Revenge?” He loved having Dream Stalkers as they were saying that one of the Ponies must have caught and bound one of their ghosts to do his bidding.
The gryphon seemed unable to answer. He had obviously been unprepared for what he had found in the camp because he was only in studded leather armor and armed with a short sword and a bow.
“I recognize his face now that I see it properly. He’s trying to make a name for himself.” Grif spat.
“Oh? Tell me more.” Pensword asked with a smile. “Also, add his feathers to the pillow.” He added with a nod to the wings. “Anything I should know?”
“He’s a runaway. He joined this war for glory out of stupidity.” Grif said. “I doubt he even finished his training before he headed for the army. But don’t start getting all merciful on him. He’s as filthy as the rest.” Grif said as he moved forward. The gryphon cringed in fear, but the older gryphon cared little as he drew a blade. With a few well aimed slashes, feathers littered the floor.
Pensword looked at the Runaway. “Did you take the oath?” He asked, his voice void of emotion. “Did you raise your talon against my nation and against my people? Answer this with truth. I know when one is lying.”
The gryphon nodded slowly and stiffly. What little bravado or bravery he had had been beaten out by Grif already.
“Then you have to learn the final lesson of a good soldier, coward.” He moved to the tent door the two had entered from. “Grif, you have his confession. Make sure his insignia and identification is with his wings for the next Ballistia attack. It is time to curse the walls of Fort Triumph, starting with one who only saw the romance of war.” He paused and looked down at the ground. “May the next life be more merciful than you have found in this one.” WIth those words Pensword left, knowing Grif would do as commanded. He looked to the walls and shuddered, reflecting on when he was let off his leash to hunt for the rest of those on the lists that invaded his home. It would be over soon.
“Walk the earth with the dust,” Grif said before running the gryphon through. “And know you disgraced your ancestors.” Grif watched grimly as the life left the poor creature's eyes and the body slumped. The gryphon was grim faced as he went to his work.
Luna’s magic grabbed the chest peice of the armor Hammer Strike had made for her. Placing it on her chest, she began to tighten the straps, tying the cords tight. Luna always made a habit of adorning her armor by herself rather than with help, as some would consider the tradition for nobles. Outside Neighagra Falls waited, along with the Gryphon army.
The events of the past month were still hitting Luna gradually. She still could not believe she was currently the sole leader of a whole tribe of ponies. More So, she was leading them in battle alongside other ponies for the first time in recorded history. Luna double checked her greaves carefully for the fit to make sure they would not hinder her in battle. The next few months would be full of bloody, horrible war. And Luna couldn’t shake her excitement. Some may call it sick that the lunar princess found herself most at home in the heat of a good battle. She was practically shaking as she adorned her fur cloak and attached her pauldrons. This was where she was most at home. And now she had ponies to be at home with her. Why was the battle to come so appealing to her and yet so terrible?
Strapping her hammer to her back and taking her helmet in her grasp, she made her way from the tent with all the formality she could muster.
As she walked out the Chiefs of the Tribes looked to Luna in shock. This was the first time she had worn the armor from her smith. They were amazed that she knew one that could shape the bones into something so magnificent. They continued to gape as Piercing Roar stepped forward. “Your orders? The Enemy holds the other side and we hold this side. The air shall become filled with blood if we attack head on. How do you suggest we take the banks and claim this river for thine own?”
“Well, what wouldst thou do?” Luna asked. “Please, do grant us thy wise counsel so we may take it into consideration.” luna gestured to all the chiefs.
Piercing Roar bowed a little. “We feel that half of us may march further upriver and cross, then come down the other side. Also, we suggest a duel of honor between thee and the enemy General. We have been reading on Gryphon traditions and to take out their leadership shall bring chaos to the camps. Let them fight. And while they fight amongst themselves we can wedge them away from the river to allow the entire army to fly across and attack them like Locus upon the crops of the land.”
“Alas, I do not think any sane general would accept our challenge.” Luna answered. “They know well the strength of an alicorn and we have made ourselves a name with them before.”
Piercing Roar nodded her head. “Very well. How well or how much do they fear thee? What if we teach thee a means to change thine appearance? Or shape the shadows? What we use as teaching thou couldst use to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy.”
“Truly? Thy people wield such magic?” Luna asked, shocked. “I have never heard of such magic even amongst the libraries of Starswirl and he has created over two hundred score spells.”
“He has never visited with us. Or if he has, he thought it just sleight of hoof.” Piercing Roar chuckled, “I shall have our Dream Stalkers start thy training this evening.” She turned her head and whistled sharply. Three Thestral Stallions and two Mares walked forward and bowed as they began to guide Luna to a small tent complex.
Luna followed them without question. They arrived and Luna found the five Thestrals gathering around her in a circle. They motioned for her to sit down and they sat around her. Raising their wings to the air, they slowly bowed their heads as a strange mist slowly moved around in front of her within the circle. “Please, reach out and touch the magic with either a hoof or a horn and let us teach thee.”
Luna gingerly stuck a hoof out toward the magic. Surprisingly, it felt … right somehow, comforting even. Luna found her world beginning to shudder and shift around her as a new type of magic made it’s presence known in her body. The floor swam to meet her as the sensations overwhelmed her consciousness.
Pensword looked to his Dream Stalkers and Grif. “You have been looking through the minds of the Gryphons. You know the enemy. Who shall be spared for the order of evacuating the enemy town?” He looked to the Fortress. “The Commandant is not on the list. He is to die at my hoof.” He paused and looked to Grif. “It seems I have brought Hell to their Doorstep?” He asked with some hidden meaning.
“Maybe. But I don’t intend to stop till the lot of them are locked away in tartarus itself.” Grif said. “Spare a child or a female. They haven’t valued the strength of females yet.” He looked at one of the female dream stalkers. “And I consider that a mistake.”
Pensword looked to the female Dream Stalker. “Do you have any in the Fortress that fits the criteria?” He looked to Grif and then to the Dream Stalkers. “I want to have this Gryphon marked before we attack.”
“The commander’s daughter would make a good candidate, if I had to give you a choice.” Grif answered begrudgingly.
“Oh… nice. Irony and payback all molded in one. I like it.” Pensword mumbled happily. “Knowing her, she hopefully will lead the civilians away.” He looked to Grif. “Otherwise, when she returns you may have and do whatever it is you wish with her.” He looked his friend right into the air. “Is that acceptable to you?”
“Very well.” Grif said. “She has partaken in pony flesh and as such if she returns without fulfilling her duty, her life is mine.” He warned him.
“Very true.” Pensword looked to the Dream Stalkers. “Are there children in the fortress?” He did not like having to ask the question. “If so, is there a way to spare their lives?”
“Children are innocent.” Grif said. “The gryphons will not expect us to offer their young something they would not offer. I would press to send them into Equestri, as political prisoners until things blow over. Believe me, that would be a kindness”
“Very well.” Pensword muttered, “That would be the best bet. They shall be sent back, I shall put Captain Hurricane in charge of that transport, unless you wish to bring them to Unity.”
“Unfortunately, I will be helping out at a wedding.” Grif said. “I couldn’t afford the trip”
Pensword smirked and chuckled. “Very well. Then I shall find somepony else to-” he paused and then face hoofed. “I can keep them here and hand them over to the Princesses. They will be wanting to tour the fortress themselves.”
“Very well.” Grif nodded. “I will lead the troops through the gate when you have opened it.”
“Good. I shall let you go. And remember: leave the Daughter alive. I need her to prevent civilian bloodshed. I shall not become the monster that killed my parents.” His eyes held Grif’s. “Understood?”
“I do not kill children, nor those who cannot defend themselves.” Grif locked eyes with Pensword. “One would think after all we have been through you would think more of me.”
Pensword smiled. “I wanted to hear that one more time from your beak. I want to be assured of your stance.” He looked to the tent wall. “I am on a thin line and I fear I may fall off the edge. I am sorry I ask you that, but it helps me to keep my mind clear, Grif. You are one of my lighthouses in the darkness.”
“I do not kill children or those who cannot defend themselves,” grif stated again with firmness. “My justice would not allow it from me”
Pensword smiled, looking relieved to hear that affirmation. “Very well. Now… I need to plan the assault some more. I am being given what troops can be spared. If I am ordered to give up any more units it would be a thin rope holding us together.” He looked to the edge of their meeting space. “If you would excuse me.” He looked to the Dream Stalkers. “Make sure my tent is not bothered. I doubt the others would care that I am speaking with other generals.” They knew he meant that only he would be heard in that meeting. “I look forward to when this is over,” he muttered.
The weather had turned cold and overcast. The stars that Luna normally controlled lay hidden from view. The Gryphons were slowly cooking their evening stews as they built up their fires to allow warmth. They were confident that they would not be attacked by any real assaults. They knew that the Lunar Princess would not risk battling it alone in case there were more black tips willing to die to kill her. They chuckled as they flaunted their “conquest” of their side of the river to the great falls.
Meanwhile, on the Pony side of the river, Princess Luna stood facing the glowing fires of the Gryphon Pickets. She took a deep breath, having removed every article of clothing from her armor to her royal regalia. No ponies save a few thestrals she trusted were around as she took another deep breath and closed her eyes. Her horn slowly glowed and her form began to ripple as a star filled blanket began to wrap around her. Her body tuned translucent as stars sparked into being along her coat. She began to grow in size, her eyes remaining closed. Her new form swelled larger until she was the size of a medium sized manor. She mentally had picked Lord Hammer Strike’s manor for her size. While big, it was still small compared to the other Lords and the perfect size for an Ursa Minor. Finally, she began to smile as she opened her eyes, taking her first steps forward.
The pickets along the riverbank paused in their cooking and patrolling to see a bank of the clouds part, allowing the stars to shine. It was only a moment later that their minds registered that this part of the night sky did not hold any constellations they had ever seen. On top of that, the sky was slowly moving, growing larger and larger as it floated towards them. Suddenly two massive eyes opened glowing a bright yellow with mystical power. The Gryphons stood, dumbstruck, as this creature started to ford the river. They watched, terrified. The water did not even come up to the knees of this beast, nor was the current strong enough to force the beast to stop or fall on its side. It just kept on moving forward, a true force of nature.
“STAR BEAST!” Yelled a young Gryphon who had arrived only a day ago with another unit. They were hoping to ford the river in two days to attack the other side first. Only now an Ursa Minor was attacking them. The Gryphons jolted at the words. While many brandished weapons, the older, wiser Gryphons quickly fell back even as arrows were loosed and the roar of the beast carried over the banks of the river.
A moment later the Gryphon General was flying towards the retreating picket lines, ready to order them back when he saw with one swipe of a paw, eighteen Gryphons were swept into the river and carried beyond the falls. Another five were killed with a back hand of the bear’s paw. His eyes narrowed as instead of a star like most star beasts, he saw a crescent moon on its forehead. Still, he did not have time to order an attack. The Bear was already wrecking the camp, stomping out fires, and spilling the stews.
“Fall back to the forest line. Take all the weapons you can carry. Fall back and regroup!” The general barked as he turned tail. He could not see the rock the bear had hefted until it was too late. The boulder crushed him and several officers as it sailed, bouncing on the ground and making havoc of the camp. The bear roared again. Any semblance of an orderly retreat turned into a mad dash for the tree line as many younger warriors foolishly tried to fight, not believing the stories of how powerful Ursas truly were. They never got to learn from their mistake. Some, however, did manage to live long enough to see Thestrals crossing the river by wing. One Gryphon with a broken wing and leg escaped to inform any who would listen that the ponies were marching from the north to take their camp. Tragically, he did not live long enough to see his message delivered as he shuddered, releasing a death rattle as the ancestors called him to the winds.
The Troops barely managed to regroup when a Messenger flew in to the disorderly camp, handing a scroll to the only Gryphon that looked like he was still in charge before taking off to deliver more messages, only to fall flailing to the ground as three arrows pierced his hide. This brought renewed chaos as they rushed to retreat further into the woods. It would not be until much later that many would wonder where the Star Bear went, as it seemed as soon as the bank was secured it simply vanished.
Princess Luna smiled smugly as her form returned to normal and she slowly trotted to the camp to help loot it of supplies and intel. It was while still moving forward that one of her guards came up, forming a protective ring around her as they checked over her for any damages. She smiled and actually wondered what they would look like with some Thestral traits. She pondered that as her unicorn guard handed a scroll marked with a seal. However, the seal, she noted, was askew and untidy. She broke open the seal and read the letter only half way before laughing and smiling as she handed it to Piercing Roar to read. Which she began to do so, aloud.
“To all able Gryphons who receive this missive. Fort Triumph is under seige from all sides, both living and dead. The dead are turning into bats as I write this. Our own bodies are dying and decaying as if the curses of some ancient being are spreading. We have found wings pinned to the walls tonight. Our parties for food are never coming back. I cannot sleep. None can sleep. We are being attacked by the night, by the ghosts of all. We must kill the halfling. He is binding Gryphons to him. One is always seen in the camp and yet not even touched. He is binding our proud warriors from the wind to his needs! We need help to slay them. Our bodies grow weak and our enemies are taking our energy and our spirit. Help before it is too late and we all become cursed to fight for prey.” She smirked. “It appears that this was written by a medium ranked officer in the Gryphons. It seems they are beginning to realize that their luck is running out.
Princess Luna smiled as she looked on the land and pondered. “I think there shall be a bridge built near this location to commemorate this day.” She turned to one of her guards. “Write it down and have it worked on after the war. We demand a bridge be built. It shall be known as the Star Bear Bridge.” She proclaimed with a proud flourish. “Now, my fellow Warriors, Charge the enemy!” She crowed as she lunged into the underbrush, her armor glowing white as she pursued the enemy, her cry bringing fear into their hearts as they beheld one of the Princesses dressed like an ancient warrior bearing the hide and bones of a great beast. The Gryphon armies of the Great Falls campaign lost many lives as they fled for a staging ground. Many had lost their colors as well. In one night the region of what would become Twin Banks City fell from the Gryphons into Princess Luna’s personal army’s hooves. Not knowing that another broken army, or what was left of it, was marching toward Fort Triumph, now, Princess Luna was following another decimated army towards the Fortress, following the trail of abandoned supplies and dying soldiers no longer able to fight.
Pensword paused as his body twitched. He Crumbled the parchment into a ball and threw it against the wall of his tent. Four others lay crumbled where the fifth had landed. He growled and looked to the ceiling. “Faust give me strength to lead.” he muttered. He looked down at the letter that had given him the most grief for the past hour. It was a letter from Promethean Flame demanding he give up a quarter of his remaining troops to allow him the strength to conquer the other side of what now were called The Ghost Mountains, named after the lost souls the Gryphons had taken. He shook with anger as he got up from his seat and moved to the map on his tent wall. What got him even more upset was where he would have to march through with his troops. He was not going to let some upstart noble who insulted him, his future mate, Grif, and his friend and only family he had left through what is essentially empty land open to any noble to claim. Celestia was holding troops out of that area out of respect but time was drawing to a close and he did not see how he could keep another noble from claiming and owning his birthland.
He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again. He blinked and shifted a stiff stance. “Baron Happy Hooves!” he replied in shock.
Happy Hooves just looked at Pensword before smiling. He kept smiling as he slowly faded away. A few seconds later Captain Hurricane walked into the tent, frowning. “It seems Promethean Flame is calling in a old debt to my father on me. I am to force you to give him the troops he demands. He claims that I am only seeking personal glory by supporting you in this endeavor.” He looked to his friend. “I know you wanted to wait a little longer, but under the current circumstances ... will you consider pushing the timetable up?”
Pensword looked to his friend, then broke his gaze, staring at the side of the tent without a smile. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, it crept its way onto his muzzle. “Yes. We shall attack two days from now,” He said, his voice excited. “Make sure the clouds begin their rain again. I want to ensure that the Gryphons cannot fly in the weather. I am hopeful a few more will develop wing rot in that time. Or at the very least another case of mildew.”
“As you command, my friend. I shall be at your side when we take the outer walls.” Hurricane responded with a bow. He turned around and left his friend in his tent and slowly trotted to his own, blinking as he had an idea, a candle appearing over his head. He would send the letter from Promethean Flame to Princess Celestia with a request of his own. Hoping that he was not making a rash choice by asking to use his one boon as a Hurricane, he sat down inside his tent at a portable writing table. The only other furnishings available were a cott and a few satchels for him to carry. It was a dwelling more fit for a Commanding Officer then a noble, no less an Heir to the Hurricane name and house upon his father’s death or retirement. He shook his head, shoving his swirling thoughts aside as he pulled out a roll of parchment, ink well, and a quill pen. He began to write: Dear Princess Celestia. He paused and pulled out another parchment and wrote Dear Princess Luna upon it as well before focusing on his letter to Celestia.
Pensword had placed the letter back into his letter chest to look at later. He paused in his pacing as he heard Grif enter the tent, the burlap flap whooshing open and shut. He also heard two others come in behind him. He did not even turn around. “Grif, Little Willow, Big Oak, how are you doing tonight? Are you prepared for the snowstorm, hail, and rain I have planned for the next three days? We mount our assault in four. We are moving up the timetable. Another noble has forced my hoof to attack sooner than I planned by a week.”
“Have you slept in the last few days?” Grif asked, raising an eyebrow.
Pensword turned around and looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow. “Do I look like Lord Hammer Strike?”
“That’s not an answer. You look like you're going to collapse.” grif said
“It is hard to sleep,” Pensword spoke. “I … I sleep and I feel like I have to keep making more plans. I also got a letter two days ago from Promethean Flame that is demanding what would equate to the last of all but Thestrals under my command. He is also planning just by my own process of elimination to take control of my old home. Do you think I can sleep when I risk losing my land to some insufferable noble?” He paused and took a breath, letting it out slowly. “Grif, I am pushing the timetable up. I have to be there and I cannot afford to let up now. They are starting to flee on all sides now and the nobles are not pulling their weight. I cannot keep having you go after the stragglers. However, I have placed my own Thestrals around to help with the sealing of the borders. I know you are doing your best. All my men are doing their best. Thank Faust that they ran into a dead end canyon and forgot they could fly. Or perhaps they were too tired.” He shook his head, a look of profound exasperation covering all. “Grif, I need sleep but I cannot sleep ... I cannot,” he whispered hollowly.
“Forgive me,” Grif said before striking the back of pensword’s neck with the hilt of his knife. Grabbing the pony as he fell unconscious, Grif hauled him carefully over to his cot and set him down. “Them being tired won’t be much of an advantage if you don’t sleep either,” he said to the unconscious pegasus thestral hybrid as he removed what armor he could and covered him. The gryphon turned to the letters and the quill and ink still waiting. He could handle the paperwork for now.
The bells of Fillydelphia rang proudly through the streets. In fact, the entire city was celebrating the end of the siege. Ponies swarmed out in droves, filling the streets as they hugged and kissed one another. What surprised the Thestrals was how many hugs and kisses they received from the residents. Lunar Fang found herself suddenly embraced by one of the apprentice smiths and blushed violently as she received a kiss on the muzzle.
She instinctively lashed out with a hoof, accidentally sending the apprentice to the ground. “Oh, I’m sorry” She said. “But I’m spoken for.”
“Oh,” He muttered, “Well, this is a day of celebration. I hope you didn’t mind too much. I guess I might go nurse my bruised jaw. You have a good jab.”
Hammer Strike also found himself suddenly kissed by a Pegasus mare who was hanging upside down. She looked happy as she darted away, whooping for joy at the victory.
Hammer Strike blinked, confused for a moment as he looked around. “Well…” He muttered to himself. “That happened.”
“What now?” Lunar Fang looked to Hammer Strike. “What do you wish to do?”
“Get ready for travel, I guess.” Hammer Strike shrugged. “We have work to do in the direction of Fort Triumph…”
“We should give the troops an hour to celebrate at least,” Lunar Fang said. “We did strike a rather large blow after all.”
“Of course. They will get their break,” He replied. “I shall be packing my tools and such though. You know, get myself ready to leave.”
“Of course.” Lunar Fang nodded. “I will see that we get adequate food stores ready.”
Hammer Strike nodded before heading off towards the forge. Upon arrival he found himself alone, the others obviously out celebrating with everyone else. Moving over to his workbench, he began roll up and pack any blueprints that he wanted to keep while burning the others.
A pegasus apprentice entered a few minutes later and looked at Hammer Strike. “Do, you need any help packing up? You are taking us with you, are you not? Or are you leaving us in charge of the forges here?”
“I shall send a message to Celestia asking what she wants. She just gave me enough information on what we were doing where, but no information on what happens afterwards.” He sighed. “Why are you not out there celebrating with the others?”
“I,” she started. “Well ... I am a little nervous around big crowds and after the last three stallions tried to kiss me I thought it might be best if I just helped in the forge or something. Still, I might just head back to my room and start packing up there.” She smiled shyly and turned around. “Fillydelphia is and shall forever be grateful for what you have done.”
Hammer Strike paused in his work. “I doubt they would pay attention to the little work I accomplished.”
“We shall see. I doubt the town will forget the number of anvils you destroyed.” She chuckled and clip clopped out of the forge. Soon after a stallion was pushed in through the forge doors. He looked confused and swayed a little. He smiled, nodded to Hammer Strike, and passed out on the floor.
“Wow. Ten minutes into the celebration.” Hammer looked to the stallion on the floor. “A new record.”
Lunar Fang looked to her fellow soldier, who was speaking at the moment. “What are the plans for your personal troops? Fillydelphia stands free and the Gryphons are being pushed from the city. Are we to move to the front lines?”
“Yes. We march for Triumph.” lunar fang answered.
“As you command. Shall the others be coming as well?” He asked, referring to the non-Thestrals. “I pray that your courtship ends happily,” he muttered as they kept walking toward the tents, the troops still celebrating. Lunar Fang was now flanked by two Thestral stallions to prevent any more incidental kissing.
“We will need all who we can bring. There is no telling what we may have to deal with when we arrive.” Lunar fang nodded curtly. “See that wagons are provisioned by anything the Fillydelphians can spare. And thank you, Dark Wing,” she said, blushing.
“As you command.” The Thestrals replied as they moved to relay the orders, leaving Lunar Fang to walk the last few steps to her tent. She paused, looking to the tent door and then to the sky. “I’ll see you soon, Pensword.” She whispered.
Pensword’s eyes fluttered open. The first thing he noticed was that his neck was sore. Second, he was in his bed. Third, he felt fully rested. Fourth, his mother was laughing. Fifth, he blinked, noticing Grif at his desk looking over paperwork. He sat up and roared. “GRIF!” He noticed that some of his armor lay at the side of his bed. Swiftly, he flew out of his cot, the blanket falling to the ground. A small eddy was forming in the room from the beat of his wings.
“Breakfast is on the stand by your bed. Don’t say anything until it’s all gone,” the gryphon said casually, comparing a few reports as he jotted some new figures.
Pensword did not say another word. He knew his friend too well. He moved to the stand and began to eat his breakfast. After regaining his lost memories, he had noticed Pensword had picked up a vice. He had become a tea drinker. Thankfully, he never had strong drink, but he had come to enjoy his tea. On top of being a healthy alternative to wine it also provided a safe way to drink water due to the high temperatures involved in boiling. Still, he frowned at how he could not give it up. He had tried a few times. In fact, that was one of the reasons for his restless nights. He was going through tea withdrawal. “I seems I have become an English Gentleman.” He muttered in Dragonic.
“Steeped for three and a half minutes. Mathematically perfect,” Grif responded in kind.
Pensword chuckled, soon after discovering two cubes of sugar already in his tea cup. “Did you put the sugar cubes in my tea?” he asked as he picked up the pot. “Just asking to make sure this is how you set it up.”
“We’re at war,” Grif noted. “I got the sugar from the stores personally.”
Pensword nodded his head and poured the drink. He looked around to make sure he was alone before he spoke Dragonic. “I am just … you knew me before. I drank only herbal tea. And now, here I am drinking what might be the equivalent of Green Tea or an Earl Grey, I think.”
The Gryphon shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve double checked the numbers a few times and managed to move a few around to optimize the troops we have left. I was talking with the Thestrals and we may have a plan for getting in undetected. so far, it looks like the cut in our numbers won’t be quite so painful as anticipated. I also sent a message to celestia with hammer strike’s seal asking for Promethean Flame to be recalled to Unity over an emergency matter and have done my best to get that letter you were writing across to Weathered Storm.”
“That is good to hear. Thank you for that,” Pensword replied as he took another sip of tea. He gave an involuntary shudder of relief before returning to his meal with gusto. He paused after he swallowed another bite. “It is good to hear that we have the men we need. But if it is possible, I would rather keep the troops and send them to Promethean after we capture the Fortress. Still, I cannot have everything I want. Do you feel we can finish this siege in four days with the nightmares helping?”
“We’ll need to begin full bombardement by tomorrow evening. Bolts, your lighting rods, boulders, fire rocks, the whole shebang. If we speed that up we should be able to pull it off,” Grif noted. “It’s the inside of the fortress that will be the real test.”
“Very well. Carry the order to resume bombardment again tomorrow evening. And don’t let up for two days straight. Meanwhile the weather, lightning, and storms will be unleashed over their heads.” Pensword took another bite before turning to eat the rest of his meal. There’s nothing worse than a cold breakfast to a recuperating soldier.
“There are some herbs for your neck on the table, by the way,” Grif noted. “Little willow was very careful to make sure everything was nice and clean.”
“Thank you,” Pensword replied as he finished his meal. He soon found the compress. With a little help from Grif, he gingerly applied it to his neck, letting the herbs do their job. “Today, we have much to do. Shall we get to it?”
The Gryphon nodded as he took some documents to the flap of the tent. He called out to a messenger and had him distribute the orders to the officers. “Three days worth of things that can go wrong. Lets hope lady luck still likes my eyes.” The Gryphon chuckled as he helped Pensword back into his armor.
“Or my gumption,” Pensword muttered. “All I can say is that the Gryphons are practically dazed zombies the way they are acting at the moment, just happy they are still alive. At least the strong willed ones.” He looked to the walls. “Come next week we shall be looking at them from the other side, out into the forest.”
“Come next week, they will be looking at us from the top of a pike,” Grif responded grimly.
“With hopefully an empty city occupied as well,” Pensword muttered. “This valley shall be Equestrian by war’s end.”
“You remember the modern map?” grif noted in draconian. “We push the Gryphonian territorial lines back to the sea.”
“Yes, we push them off this land mass even,” Pensword replied as he shook his head. “They shall never forget that, shall they?” He chuckled slightly as Grif joined in.
“Gryphons are a hard headed, thick skulled bunch.” Grif smiled tapping his head. “You got to beat a point in there to make it stick.”
“Oh, I plan on it.” Pensword’s voice took an edge to it. “I shall make sure they regret ever setting talon on my village.”
After few hours of celebration, Hammer Strike was finally able to convince the group to progress towards Fort Triumph. Two of three of the apprentices were leaving with him while the last one, Bronze Ore, stayed behind in Fillydelphia to train the other smiths and keep equipment in check.
Lunar Fang had worked to get the wagons set up with provisions for the trip. Fortunately, the Fillydelphians were more than happy to give what they could to Hammer Strike’s forces.
Though they had wagons to haul equipment, Hammer Strike wanted to keep his gear on. Wearing a set of armor, minus the helmet, he stepped nobly forward, shining in the sun. He also carried his great sword and hammer across each other on his back while two short swords stayed at his sides. It made for a very noble appearance and more than one young filly swooned as he led his troops through the town’s streets and out into the wilderness.
Lunar Fang checked with the thestral scouts every ten miles. It was near midday on the second day since they'd set out when she came back with some interesting news. “Gryphon forces coming from the direction of Neighagra falls. They seem scattered and disarrayed at the moment.”
“Then I guess we should do something about that, should we not?” Hammer Strike questioned.
“If we’re quick we could arrange an ambush further up,” Lunar Fang suggested.
“Either way we need to stop them from getting too far.”
“I’ll give the orders to move” Lunar Fang said “You should get the non combatants hidden away.”
“I shall get on that, then.” Hammer Strike said.
“Forward!” lunar fang ordered as her troops moved to route the gryphons’ escape. The ambush had been a rousing success. The gryphons had stumbled into the battlefield scared and confused. By the time they realised they were under attack their numbers were already falling rapidly. Some of the older warriors had put up a fight, but for the most part the fighting was quick and brutal. The thestrals especially seemed to take pride in the brutality they rained upon their enemies.
The Gryphons finally did something that Hammer Strike never had never seen before. They were starting to wave anything white in an attempt to surrender. The leadership was crushed.The remaining hundred Gryphons had no clue what to do, nor the energy to even fight. Soon enough,Princess Luna came charging into the fray and it became only too obvious why the troops were so razzled. The Gryphons promptly threw their weapons to the ground, making sure that their enemy knew they were done.
“Well, would you look at that,” Hammer Strike started. “They are attempting to surrender.”
“Your orders?” Lunar Fang spoke looking to Hammer Strike, as well as most of the other troops. A temporary lull had developed.
“We accept thy Surrender!” Princess Luna yelled in her Royal Canterlot Voice from the midst of the battlefield. “Guards. Take these forces back to Unity to be held as prisoners of war. The night warriors and we shall continue our march to Triumph to lend our hooves to the assault there.”
“Well, now that they are taken care of,” Hammer Strike started. “Time to see how Luna has been doing.” He said, trotting towards the princess. Drawing near, he was proud to see her wearing the armor he made from the ursa bones.
Lunar Fang smiled and bowed to Princess Luna before turning around. “I shall make sure the forces are merged successfully for the coming march. High Chieftess Luna, you shall be leading the forces, I presume?” She paused, making a mental note to ask Hammer Strike later on who he would want her serving at the moment.
“Of course.” Luna nodded. “We shall charge ahead to support Pensword.”
The early morning mist hung silently in the air. The sun was nowhere to be seen, covered by the lowering storm clouds. Suddenly the air was rent by a flash of lightning, a terrible crash of thunder, and eventually, a sopping curtain of rain as it poured down once more. The Gryphons rose their heads wearily to the sky before returning their gaze to the forest. The walls were pincushioned by metal rods, virtually abandoned to keep soldiers from being electrocuted by lightning. From above the clouds there rose a cry as Thestrals dropped and the rain and lightened, turning to snow. The wall guards were the first to fall.
Just outside of bow range, Grif waited with the secondary troops. They stood with the fortress in view, waiting for the first sign of the gate to open. Pensword and the thestrals had made for their separate entrances over two hours ago, so it was likely the gate would fall soon. Grif planned to be the first one through.
Suddenly the gates rose as Thestrals appeared, signalling the secondary troops through the gates. As Grif started running, a few Gryphons rose from behind, only to fall to Pensword’s wing blades as he snorted and yelled in a fury that neither Grif nor Taze had ever seen in Pensword or Matthew before. He was gone into one of the doorways and his ears could hear metal hitting metal before a Gryphon fell limply out one of the windows. He was already clearing another part of the gatehouse. The first wall had been breached.
Grif was startled by his friend’s ferocity, but didn’t stop as he charged into the fray, impaling a gryphon through the chest from behind before slashing the throat of another. The fire burning in pensword’s eyes blazed with such intensity he could feel the heat from where he stood. The ponies crashed upon the gryphons like a tidal wave of death. The ponies were well armed and well rested, fired by a passion to defend their own. the gryphons were tired and soaked to the bone. Many were unable even to fully bring their weapons to bare. In the end, it wasn’t battle, it was slaughter.
The first layer, which was food and the like, was quickly secured. Now, they were working on breaking down the gates and doors from the first layer into the second. Pensword and the other flyers quickly took to the air and settled upon the wall. Grif landed next to Pensword as he turned and actually bucked the door in, reducing it to splinters as he dropped, allowing Grif to attack any enemies that might be behind.
Grif charged into the room instantly. The sounds of close combat soon followed: metal on metal, a few screams, and grunts of pain rang out before fading into an eerie silence. “Clear,” Grif called a few moments later in a pained tone.
Pensword entered the room as the light from a lantern glinted off his armor. Blood dripped from his wing blades. He looked to the trap door and nodded to Grif to destroy it, allowing him entry to the lower level. He would have his revenge. Everywhere he looked, he saw his town, his friends. They looked pleased as their cries for revenge were being answered. At the moment the other troops had left the two to pretty much tag team through their personal vendettas.
The battle carried on in a similar fashion. Pensword breaking down a barricade, and grif rushing in to surprise the enemy. Eventually they approached a hallway Grif recognised instantly. “Your quarry is up those stairs” Grif said.
“Right. Find the female and capture her. I shall fight and subdue the Commander,” he whispered as he moved and started up the stairs, deliberately making each step fall heavily. He wanted that Gryphon to know the sound of his doom. Pensword looked around the hallway. They were in the second zone and he was in the Commander’s quarters. He paused at a door and found it ajar, not sealed. Pensword paused and looked to find a pole arm. He quickly picked it up and using the pole arm he pushed the door open.
Inside the commander stood proudly, just as arrogant as pensword remembered him: dressed for battle and ready to fight. In his hands he held his sword. It glinted wickedly in the lightning strikes. Candles flickered in the chamber, granting enough light to illuminate what would soon be their dueling grounds. He stood ready for pensword, growling. To the Gryphon,Pensword appeared unarmed. And yet his armored wings were bloody.
“I have come for you. I am death.” pensword growled, not moving, only waiting. He was going to let the enemy make the first move. He would capture him for a drum head trial. Then the coming sunrise would see him swinging dead over the gate of Fort Triumph.
The gryphon rushed forward with a vertical slash.
Pensword only raised a wing and took the slash full force. The armor held and he did not flinch. “My name is Pensword. You killed my family. Prepare to die.” He whispered, then used his wing to push the blade away, raising another wing to block a slash from one of the talons.
“I have killed many ponies,” the gryphon said rushing him with a series of well timed thrusts and slashes.
Each one was blocked or pushed back by his armor or a thrust of his own. Each time the commander struck Pensword he let it hit, repeating the same line over and over. “I am Pensword. You killed my family. Prepare to die.” He continued to block, taking the hits. He could feel it in his body but he would not risk a move yet. He hoped Grif would finish his task quickly so he could force the commander to surrender peacefully.
Grif moved silently along the fortress hallway. The gryphoness would likely be in the safest place possible, aside from the royal chambers, which were locked. “Come out,” The gryphon spoke calmly as he moved across the hallways. “I promise I won’t hurt you ... this time.”
He heard a sound he was not expecting: a small hatchling’s whimper came from one of the rooms to his left.
Grif turned to the left, following the sound of the voice. He put his swords away, drawing only his stiletto for protection in case of a trap.
He found a door barricaded with three Thestrals looking at the door with worry and then to Grif. “Six Hatchlings and what sounds like a female Gryphon are inside. Some of the hatchlings might be armed as well.” They slowly withdrew to let Grif handle this situation. They did not want to risk killing noncombatants.
“Female gryphon. You are the commander’s daughter, are you not?” Griff shouted out to the barricaded door.
“Yes. What are we to do, fellow warrior?” She called out, her voice nervous. “Shall you watch while I go and save my father?”
“I am not your fellow warrior.” grif responded. “Release the hatchlings and surrender yourself and I will not harm them. Neither will the ponies”
“Do you swear upon your clan?” She demanded. “That no harm shall come to them?”
“I cannot swear upon any name but my own. And Lord Hammer Strike’s should it mean anything to you. And possibly Graff. For he was my father and a more honorable gryphon I have never known.”
“You claim the birthright of Graff?” She gasped and he could hear her moving items in the other room. “I shall open the door and I shall do what you need me to do.” He heard her move some more items. “Do you have something other than Pony meat?” She asked. “It is all we are allowed to eat now.” Her tone indicated a mild disgust. The door opened and she ushered the Hatchlings out.
Grif instructed the Thestrals to take the hatchlings and to treat them fairly, but not to allow any near a weapon. Then, in one movement he took his stiletto and pressed it under the female’s neck. “Before anything is to be done with you, you will come with me to see you father.”
She looked terrified, but did not struggle, nor did she make a sound as she slowly led him through the halls to her father’s quarters. Once they were alone, she spoke. “Are you not going to interrogate me? Or tell me why you fight for the nightmare bringers?”
“I fight against those who make us no better than the beasts of the land.” Grif spoke in a low, dangerous tone. “Now you are going to come with me and if you so much as twitch out of line i will leave your blood pooled all over the floor.”
“Very well,” She responded her head slightly, a small bead of blood forming at the dagger’s tip. “I shall follow and you shall lead from behind, I take it?” She asked matter of factly. “I shall gladly cooperate if you answer me one question. What shall befall the hatchlings?”
“Equestria is much more charitable than we gryphons are,” grif said, glaring at her. “The princesses will see them taken care of, but they will remain in equestria until this war is ended.”
She held out her talons to be bound. “I submit to your care until my fate is decided.” She spoke, voice bewildered as she tried to comprehend why a Gryphon would choose to willingly fight with the Ponies.
Grif took a length of cord from his pack, tying her talons together one-handed. After he had finished binding her, he removed the blade. “You will glide above the ground. Make any attempt to accelerate or go higher and I will catch you and I will remove your wings. Do you understand?”
She nodded her head up and down as she flapped, following his orders to the letter. She panicked briefly as she had thought she had risen too high. Before Grif could react, she dropped to the ground hard and tried again. She paused after a lighter flap of her wings and looked at Grif. “This high?” She asked, looking worried.
“It will do. Now, forward,” he said gesturing with his stiletto. “Let us settle this matter once and for all.”
Pensword shuddered as the Commander struck another part of his armor. He knew Hammer Strike would not like how he was treating it. Still, he trusted his friend’s skills. He looked to the Commander. “Hello, my name is Pensword. You killed my family. Prepare to die.” He cleared his throat, hoping that he would get on the nerves of the commander enough for him to make a mistake. Suddenly, the commander paused, taking a step back and breathing heavily. “Had enough? Are you ready to surrender and meet your fate? Do you surrender to the Prey? Do you surrender to the sole survivor of the town you refused to show mercy? Do you wish to surrender now to the son of the Thestral you ate that night? I promise you this: I shall roast your body on a spit as you did my mayor.”
The commander’s eyes widened in shock, startled by the pony’s words for a brief moment. But it passed quickly, and soon he pressed his attack once more, fire burning in his eyes. “Then I will finish what I started that night!” The gryphon bellowed as he charged, hammering blow upon blow.
Pensword took the blows and parried others with his wing blades when the door behind them was pushed open. He smirked as the ringing of a blade hitting an outstretched wing filled the room before fading to silence. “You there, Grif?”
“Shira...l” the commander spoke as he turned away.
“Drop the sword and surrender the fort and yourself, or your daughter bleeds out,” Grif growled as he held the stiletto blade to her throat.
“So, you show your true colors, Benedicto Arnaldo,” the gryphon spat. “And here I believed you were taken by the intruder that night. Would you really sink so low as to betray your own kind for beasts?”
“I never served your damned emperor. The winds never intended for gryphons to prey on the intelligent. Now drop the sword, or she dies.” Grif pressed the blade closer to her neck. Her pure white feathers stained red as the blade split the skin.
“Father, what does honor demand?” She asked with fear and confusion. “Is the survival of your only hatchling and clan worth the honor of holding a fortress?” She dared not even swallow. “We have lost. Somehow, we lost the favor of the winds.”
Pensword slowly moved to allow the two to fully look on the other. Then he smirked to the Commander. “At this moment you two may be the only living Gryphons left in the Fortress. Tick Tock, commander. Will you save a life in your last moments? Or shall you condemn her to the fate of all who face my forces?”
“And if I surrender, what becomes of her?” The gryphon asked pensword.
Pensword moved a wing to delay Grif’s actions. “She will be sent to the village at the other end of the valley with your symbol of command to evacuate all civilians and give her an honorable retreat. After that moment, if she comes against us, or we see her again on the field of battle, she will fight for her life and most likely lose it. However, here, she lives, and so does the town that I have no grievances against. It is the Emperor’s military that I fight. Not civilians. I am not the monster you have chosen to be.”
“I have your word?” the gryphon asked.
“As one military leader to another. She will be used as a means to clean out a village for our taking. She will live to see a few more sunrises and moonrises. After the village is cleared, her fate will be hers alone. That is my word, Commander Bloodfeather.”
“Very well.” The Gryphon dropped his sword and threw up his arms. “I concede.”
“Good.” Pensword moved forward and used rope that he had hidden beneath his armor to bind Bloodfeather’s talons and beak. “Now march.” He moved, turning to Grif at the door. “Bring her along. She will witness what I witnessed that night.” Pensword pushed harshly and the prisoner began marching forward again. “Any false moves and the both of you die,” he growled.
Pensword sat behind a collection of drums. Both Gryphon and Pony eyed the now tied up Commander. He had been stripped of all armor and weapons. Metal blunts covered his talons and his wings were bound by a thickly woven rope. The ponies glared. “Commander Jorund Bloodfeather. You stand before this military tribunal of Equestria to answer for the war crimes you have committed and ordered those troops within your charge to commit. I shall now read the charges which stand against you.” He paused to unroll a scroll. “You are hereby charged for crimes against Pony Kind, crimes against the Princesses of the Moon and Sun, the mass murder of the entire town of Mountainside Falls, the destruction of Baron Hooves’ estate and all who lived therein, refusal to heed warnings, and the unneeded deaths of soldiers. The sentence of any of these crimes is death by choice of the executioner, which, in this case, would be death by hanging.” He set the scroll down. “How do you plead against these crimes?” He looked to the Commander. His beak had been untied for the proceedings. Behind Pensword, Bloodfeather’s daughter also stood, bound and under close watch as she viewed his trial.
“Does it matter?” Jorund asked.
“Yes, It does. For the trial, and for others to hear your voice, yes.” Pensword’s eyes narrowed. “Also, so that those that you killed may hear your words and finally have the rest they deserve.”
“I did what was within my imperative! If this is a crime, then I plead guilty,” the gryphon answered.
“Who gave the order?” Pensword demanded. “Was it necessary to kill and eat an entire village?” He stood still and waited for the response. “It is a crime, is it not, to commit the genocide of an entire race?”
“You know who gave the order,” Jorund said, bristling with arrogance and hate. “State your decision and be done with it.”
“Very well. The Tribunal of this court shall convene to make its verdict.” He stood up and walked over to the other five officers standing nearby with one honorary Gryphon. They held a brief whispered conference before Pensword returned, resuming the “stand.”
“We find the accused Guilty of all crimes and he is sentenced to be hung from the front gate of this fortress at dawn, which once accomplished, shall be buried wingless in a pony grave. Feathers from his corpse shall be sent as a message to the kings and Emperor of the Gryphons. Case dismissed,” he ordered, banging a metal hoof on the drum. “Bring Shrial forward for her sentencing.”
Two Thestral mares brought the gryphoness forward. Grif had elected to keep an eye on the orphaned hatchlings until arrangements could be made, hoping to sow some seeds of change in future generations.
“Shrial, you are a Major of the Gryphon forces. You have eaten pony flesh and led two raiding parties into Equestrian lands. Yet you have brought back no live ponies. I would sentence you to death for your role played in this Fortress and in the past. However, this council is willing to lend you a reprieve. Should you accept it, you are to evacuate the village at the mouth of the valley on the Gryphon side of the border. You shall have five days to start the evacuation. If no Gryphons leave within that period, I shall be forced to call a Dragon in to raze the village to the ground to show just what I shall do to any Gryphon that does not take my olive branch. Do you understand?”
“I… I understand,” she said, trying to hold back sobs.
Pensword nodded his head. “I shall have Fox Feather and Animal Control escort you to your father’s quarters. You may take what is needed to convince them to leave.” He looked to the two. “Untie her. I doubt she will try anything here.” He banged a hoof on the drum to signal the verdict.
The two Pegasi stepped forward and untied the now sobbing Gryphoness. They stopped suddenly and Shrial looked up to see Pensword looming over her. “If you are smart, you will leave with the civilians. Know this. You are feeling the pain and emptiness I have carried since your father destroyed my village and butchered my family. My revenge ends today.” He turned swiftly, his wings snapping like a cape as he walked away. Fox Feather and Animal Control quickly filed the Gryphoness away.
Pensword stepped quickly and silently into a private room that had once been the quarters of a Gryphon officer. Looking behind him, he scanned the halls to ensure he was not followed. One satisfied, he closed the door, curled up into a ball, and wept he eyes out. He didn’t feel any better; he just felt sick.
Pensword stood, eying the noosed Gryphon in his place atop the battlement. He nodded his head once to the Thestrals on either side of the Commander. They waited a moment, then pushed him off the edge and into space. At his side, forced to watch, stood Shrial. For a moment, it seemed almost as if the commander would fly, somehow escape by miraculous means. But that hope was vain as the rope snapped taught. Two minutes later, the body hung there, limp and unmoving. Pensword looked to Shrial. “Move. Your days start now,” He commanded as the sun slowly rose higher in the sky, seeable thanks to a hole in the cloud cover. Pensword watched as Shrial slowly walked under her father’s body and out the gate as she started towards the Village. “Gryphon’s Rest shall be yours in five days.” She stated numbly, turning her head back to face the Pegasus. She stared at him for a second or two before turning back and starting walking wearing armor, her father’s sword, and a satchel with his crest and seal.
Meanwhile, a lone Unicorn explored the depths of the Fortress. He soon happened upon a strangely thick studded oak door. It was different from the others. Curious as to where it might lead, he opened it with a grunt of effort, his horn glowing like a tiny torch. This door was heavier than it appeared. Slowly, it creaked open and the unicorn peered inside. It appeared to be a set of rough hewn stairs. A cold, dank smell rose from beneath. Could this be the dungeons? Perhaps there were other ponies waiting to be rescued. With that bolstering thought, he lit up his horn and took the first steps to investigate.
A great hallway stretched before him, carved from the heart of the mountain itself, or so it seemed to his eyes. He took a left, continuing down the stretching, winding corridor. Stalagmites hung down from the ceiling and old rusty torch mounts lay hammered into the walls, evenly dispersed. The foul odor of pitch and naphtha hung in the air. On closer inspection, smudges of the substance could be seen on the floor and clinging to the rings embedded in the walls. For whatever reason, the Gryphons had cleared the tunnel of all torches. He narrowed his eyes. “What were they hiding?” He asked himself.
Taking a moment, he composed himself, his horn glowing brightly. Finally, he released the spell, sending a wave of magic flying down the corridor. Images of rushing gryphons ran through the halls, dousing torches, pulling them from walls. Jewels, gold, silver, and other precious weapons and artifacts filed on their backs down the hall. The unicorn followed the ghosts until he came to another door where they phased through. Gasping, he let the spell go, sweating as it released. Time spells, even ones to relive the ghosts of events as recent as these, were draining.
At last he regained his strength and he observed the door in question. It was made of roughly hewn metal. Scanning with another spell, he snorted. “Shoddy craftsmanship.” With a solid back kick, he broke the door from its hinges. Stepping in cautiously, he let out a gasp as his hooves echoed into a massive cavern filled to the brim with furniture. Tables of varying crafting skills lay scattered about the massive room, displaying weapons of all kinds. A peasant short sword lay next to what had to have been a Strike Sword. Closed and locked chests, barrels with unknown contents and numbers written on the fronts, bits, diamonds, gold, and other precious jewels and metals, and various parchments and important documents lined the room, filling it to the brim. It was enough to make a grown dragon weep.
On closer inspection, he began to see that all the items either had numbers or tags on them. Everything was cataloged. And that was just what he could see by the dim light of his horn. He had to increase the magic to allow more light into the room. Most of the items were pony made. As he continued his inspection, his gaze settled on a painting of a Mountain peak sitting on the wall opposite the room from him. He blinked his eyes in astonishment and felt them grow bigger as he watched the painting slowly change to that of a Pony. It mirrored his exact expression, painted from the perspective of one looking out from the painting itself.
Trembling, he spoke. “I shall take that as a sign that I need to get the others,” He said nervously, backing away from the painting before galloping headlong back down the hallway and up the stairwell. Private Blueblood would report this and leave the rest to his superiors to figure out.
Pensword looked to his friend, Hurricane III. “Right. You stay here and I shall move forward. If I do not return in ten minutes you shall know that the town is deserted and your men may march in and take it. Turn it into a forward base for future spring points into the Gryphon lands.” He ordered.
“As you command,” Hurricane replied as he and his men settled in. He looked to Pensword. “Are you taking Grif with you?”
“Yes. Even if I was not, I doubt he would be willing to let me go alone. Also, after today, I am cutting him loose and letting him tackle his duties in Gryphon territory.” He looked to Grif. “Well, unless you want to be my best at my wedding?” Pensword asked with a laugh. Grif could see worry hiding behind those eyes. A worry over what might might find at the village. “Can’t really ask you to be best pony as you are a Gryphon and I do not know the term Gryphons use for that sort of honor in a wedding.”
“Pensword, I am about to walk into the territory of a country that in less then three months would sell their collective souls to bring me in alive to be publicly humiliated. There will be long months of bloody combat, cold food, and hunting gryphons. Do you honestly think I am going to leave for that without going to your wedding first?”
Pensword smiled weakly. “I am happy to hear that.” He started to walk. “Do you think we will find it empty?” He asked Grif as they left the earshot of the other ponies. “I ... I do not desire to kill any more Gryphons.”
Grif placed a talon on his friend’s shoulder. “What's left is my task,” he told pensword. “You just need to keep that base secured.”
“Than consider it a done deal. This shall remain Equestrian territory from now until the fall of Luna,” He answered as they found themselves on the edge of the forest. “Shall we go forward as a team?”
“It’s how we started,” Grif said in draconian.
“Yes. It was,” Pensword answered in Draconian. “Just imagine. In some convoluted time of less than a year and many a lifetime ago, you and I were living normal lives. And then, because we were in the strangest of places at the wrong time, or perhaps the right one, we become ... well, this.” He inspected a hoof. “Enjoy being human a little for me, will you?” He asked as he looked up and started again for the open gates. “Be ready. There might be a trap.”
Grif drew his bow and notched an arrow. While he didn’t draw the arrow back yet, he kept it in place as they entered, ready to fire at a moments notice.
The streets were empty, the doors wide open. It felt like a ghost town to Pensword’s older half. They found that the boulevard from the open gates of the fortified town led into the main square of the town. There they found Shrian bowed low in the dust with a sign next to her, begging she be allowed to join her father. At her other side was the satchel and items she had carried with her to convince the town to leave under military orders. Pensword looked to Grif and shook his head. He spoke in Draconic. “She is taking the easy way out. I want to teach her what real honor is, just from seeing this. Wishing for death … that is the coward’s way out. I say we deny her.”
Grif’s talons twitched and pensword could feel his eagerness to end it all, but the Gryphon held back. He kept his eyes searching around them for movement as he motioned pensword forward.
Pensword stepped up and spoke. “Are you alone?”
“Alone and willing to join my father. You said that I would die if you saw me again.” She answered. “I, I cannot live with this hole in my chest. How it must have driven you mad.” She looked up, slowly. Tears stood in her eyes. “Please, finish me and end my father’s clan. I cannot live with the shame of what has happened to my family.”
“This is what the empire does with female gryphons.” Grif spoke slowly, his voice dripping with malice and contempt. “Breeds, burns, and beats weakness into their very soul. Even now she can’t even muster the strength to look in your eye while begging for her death like a coward.”
Pensword glared down at the Gryphoness before turning to Grif. He spoke in Equestrian. “Then shall we teach and give her the courage to ask properly? Bring one more mark of anger by proving that a Gryphoness can be just as strong as a Gryphon?” He turned and once again beheld the girl. His next words were spoken in Draconian. “What should we do with her?”
Pensword watched Grif’s eyes intently. The color almost seemed to flicker between two different shades of blue, like two powers warring for dominance. At last, the light won out, and the Gryphon spoke with a shudder. “Grif… wants to kill her,” he answered in draconian. “But...but I don’t want her dead.” In that moment his voice shifted. The harsh bravado, the french undertone, the hardness, all were gone. “She doesn’t need to die for this,” He said, shaking his head.
“So then, is there a means to symbolically kill her? Make her dead and yet let her still breathe?” He asked in Draconian. He sighed. “Thank the heavens that Conor is not here. I shudder to think what he would do in this situation.”
“She was forced to become what she is.” Taze seemed to be fighting a little harder as the bow lowered. “Justice doesn’t demand that she suffers. Don’t do this matthew. This isn’t us.”
Matthew nodded his head. It felt strange hearing his name, his human name. He turned his head once more. With his human memories back it felt strange to have the equine head as he looked to Shrian. He spoke in Equestrian, bold and commanding. “Get up. You are too much of a coward to deserve this. We will teach you true honor, true courage. We will not kill you until you gain true strength. Strength to follow your heart. To follow your moral compass ... once you have one.” He looked to Grif. “I shall not grant you the coward’s path.” Pensword looked almost relieved at finding a loophole for the justice he had placed on this Gryphoness. He saw that she had placed curved metal caps on her talons to prevent herself from hurting anything that came. She slowly rose to her feet and bowed her head in sorrow.
The male Gryphon smiled before the warring shades of his eye’s darkened once more and the smile twisted into a grimace. “If that is your command.” Grif was back in control.
“It is, Grif. Teach her to be another means to get back to the Emperor. You want to make him suffer, yes? Then teach a female to be an equal at your side.” He paused and looked back at Shrian. She stood, unmoving, bewildered from the gaze that Grif was giving her.
“If that is your will,” Grif set the bow down. “Then I will follow it. At least until she inevitably betrays us. Then her head shall be mine.”
“At least then she will die with a warrior's honor,” Pensword replied. He paused and turned his head as he realized something. “Grif. Do my eyes deceive me? I certainly hope you are seeing what I am seeing. Else we have lost a friend in battle.”
Grif moved to approach the figure. “Greetings, Lord Hammer Strike. As you willed, I have aided Pensword in his taking of the fort and the pass.” The gryphon said.
“Good, good. So…” He turned to Shrial. “Who is this?”
“A Warrior who does not deserve death. She shall be taught what true strength and honor is from one who practices it daily. You taught Grif. Now you and he can teach another.”
Shrian stared in horror and promptly bowed low to Lord Hammer Strike. “Is .. is this what Ponies do for nobility?” She asked, missing the sly grin between Grif and Pensword.
“Yes. But I do not want you to do that.” Hammer Strike answered. “Stand.”
She slowly did so. “Uh… Milord, I am Shrian. I am clanless. If thou wishest, I can take your clan name and become a defender of the same. I,” She blinked owlishly in fear. “I do not know what I would do if I was left clanless.”
“I shall think on that.” He responded, assessing her with his calm gaze.
“No.” There was the same voice Pensword recognised from earlier. “You captured her father, but her capture was mine.” The gryphon seemed to be struggling with his words. “I claim the right of reformation. I claim the right to responsibility for the name. But I also have the right to change it and to here and now sever its ties. From here on out, let Bloodfeather be Bladefeather. By the winds, not even the emperor can strip me of this right.” A look of horror stood on Grif’s face as he forced the words from his mouth. It would be almost comical if it weren’t so serious.
“Okay then.” Hammer Strike shrugged.
Pensword looked to the two Gryphons and wondered if this would end well, or in disaster. No matter what, Grif had a clan now. Pensword hid a smile as he turned around before he found himself tackled from the air by a blue blur. He suddenly found himself in an iron embrace as a very familiar voice whispered in his ear.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she told him. “Traffic was horrible.”
Pensword laughed and grimaced at the same time. “Contractions” He shook his head, smiling like a fool before furrowing his brow. “What traffic?” he asked with worry as she pulled his helmet off and her own with it as she kissed him passionately on the cheek. “I am so happy you are still in the flesh, Lunar Fang,” he said, laughing in joy.
“Are we interrupting?” Princess Luna asked as she materialized out of the shadows. “We were led to believe such actions are best saved until after the wedding is finished.” She smiled goodnaturedly. “And a wedding on the tail of such a victory seems to be the very best and appropriate of celebrations.”
Pensword and Lunar Fang quickly moved to stand at attention. And yet, they still could not stop smiling like fools. “Well, only if Lunar Fang’s clan accepts my Dowery of an Outpost.” He responded with a chuckle. He paused and looked at his future mate. “We are getting married. I was afraid you would be a ghost the next time we met.”
“Oh, come now. I’m not worth that much,” Lunar Fang flushed. “A small encampment at most.”
Pensword just smiled even more. “Wait till I tell you the story a friend of mine told me about, of one Johnny Lingo.” He looked at her with shining eyes.
Grif had spent the last three hours in a locked room yelling at himself. The troops made sure to keep their distance, questioning his sanity. To those who were brave enough to approach the door, it sounded as though a full blown argument were in swing. When it ended, the gryphon had exited the room, looking exhausted and a little battered, but more peaceful then when he had entered.
He looked Shrial’s gear over with what little was left of her father’s gear that pensword had turned to his custody. Grif burned anything holding either the emperor's seal or that of the Bloodfeathers.
Shrial kept her eyes to the ground. A myriad of fears and thoughts of what this strange gryphon would do to her raced through her head at the speed of a mighty headwind. Grif had had her brought to him earlier and asked numerous questions regarding her personal training, what weapons she had been taught to wield and most importantly, what animals she had hunted.
Grif had considered simply removing her primary feathers and grounding her at first, but he did not want to risk another outburst by his… softer side. He had already spared that female’s life and given her a name to take her clan’s place in the world. And even more frustrating, he had taken her in under that name, adopting her to himself. Like it or not, he was now honor bound to protect and train her to live by that name. How things would go between the two was still very much left to the future.
“Wh-what is your will…. clan leader?” Shrial asked, her voice quivering.
“Okay, ground rules: first off, you will refer to me as Grif, or sir, but never clan leader. Understand?” He asked. Shrial nodded. “Lift your head! You are to be a warrior. As such, you must have courage in all things. Lift your head and look me in the eyes.” Shrial managed to lift her head, but she couldn’t maintain eye contact for more than a few seconds, trembling violently. Grif sighed. It was a start at least.
“Tomorrow the Thestral mares will begin hunting for the wedding feast. You will accompany them. Learn from them. And for your own sake, be polite. The Thestrals have more reason to hate you than I do and they do not need to be offended. When you return you will report to Lord Hammer Strike for measuring. You have nothing to fear from him. Probably less than anyone else in this base at the moment. When this is done you must come straight to me. Do not so much as stop to rest until you are back with me or your life could be forfeit. I will have more for you to do then. Is this understood?” Grif asked.
Shrian nodded slowly. “Am I to be a slave then?” she asked.
“I do not believe in slaves,” Grif answered. “You will be learning from me. As such, you will be treated as a page or an apprentice for now. You will sleep in the anti-chamber that is connected to my own room, just as a servant would. You must do as commanded by those who are in command until such a time as we may begin to decide if you are worthy of our trust or not. You will not be treated as a Gryphon captive from another race nor a warring clan. I will be keeping your weapons save for your hunting bow until I decide that you will need them. Now go to your room. You will be called if you are needed.”
Grif turned to his writing desk as the Gryphoness left the room. Taking a nearby seal braking knife, the gryphon nicked his claw and let a drop of blood fall into his inkpot. Mixing the ink and blood together liberally, he dipped a quill into it and unrolled a fresh piece of parchment. A new clan meant a new symbol. What was his to be?”
Princess Celestia sat at her desk in Castle Unity. Around her and, stacked in pyramids, scrolls from the different fronts waited to be read. She slowly lowered the scroll from her sister stating that she had met up with Hammer Strike and Lunar Fang. It felt so strange that her sister had taken such a liking to the Thestrals. She hoped they would not corrupt her into giving in to her battle lusts. Luna already had too much fun on the battlefield as things stood. She paused her thinking as she lifted another scroll from the incoming mail and looked happily. With a flick of her magic she broke the seal and began to read over the letter.
We have driven the enemy from this region. They have split into two forces, the first heading into the north and snow of the Crystal Empire. I have already sent a letter to inform the Queen to send forces to hunt for them. The other force, consisting of a broken five hundred Gryphons, are routing back to Fort Triumph. What are your orders? Included with this scroll are the after action reports of our forces and the battles and counterattacks taken by both sides of the conflict.
Commandant Supreme Sunrise
Postscript: Colonel Hurricane was an amazing asset and I hereby submit his name for consideration as Commander of Equestrian Forces. I have also heard of the plan being cooked up by both Hurricanes to adopt Pensword. I hereby place my name into the plot as well. He deserves it.
Princess Celestia placed the rerolled scroll into the “read” pile before pulling three more scrolls from the shelf behind her. Levitating them to her desk, she unrolled the three scrolls and looked at them, smiling. She pulled out three blank pieces of parchment and two more quill pens. For extra security, she cast a silencing spell on her door and windows.
“To the leaders of this plot,” She said aloud, her pen recording her words. “While I commend you on using your clout for something interesting, I must add my own two bits.” She smirked as she looked to the window gazing at the horizon. It had been a few decades since she had joined in on a plot not of her own making.
She quickly finished the letters. Rolling them up, she stamped her seal upon them and sent them off. Things were about to get very interesting in the house of nobles. She looked to the shelves of her study and pulled another item off the bookshelf: her own journal. While there was the joint journal for her sister and her in the private room in the library, both had their own journals to write their own thoughts and secrets. She took a quill and began to write as she looked out into the gardens. She could see a rainbow in the distance from her window. “Please, be safe out there, Luna,” She whispered.
She closed the journal after the ink had dried. A knock came soon after from the servant’s door. “Yes?” She asked as she walked to her desk.
“Missive from Major Pensword,” A female unicorn of blue coat and white with yellow highlights mane and tail spoke as the door opened. “The Fort appears to be taken.” She held out a scroll for Celestia to take in her magic. Once Celestia’s magic took control of the scroll the servant turned around and started to walk away. “Shall I start celebration preparations for the Castle?” She asked.
“Of, of course.” Princess Celestia responded out of habit, as she studied the back of the servant, how did she knew without the scroll being opened the success of the mission. She looked down and chuckled, “Pensword, you sure are bold in your statements. There on the sealed scroll lay a red feather, stuck to the parchment by the wax seal of what had to be the family emblem of the Commander for the Fortress. She smiled as she sat down and opened the letter, only to frown at the end of the report. ensword. Triumph has fallen.” Celestia picked up the scroll and she figured out w“It seems that my first impression might be right on this pony. Still, a surprise for both princesses at Fort Triumph?” She stood up. “Guards, prepare my personal troops. We march to Fort Triumph immediately. They have done the impossible.” She paused and looked to another doorway. “First, we must adorn our armor.” She spoke as a grey earth pony butler with an outrageous mustache zipped in where a moment ago no pony had stood.
As dawn paled over the horizon, spilling onto Fort Triumph, the sound of distant drums echoed through the morning air, filling the fort even before the first glimpses of ponies in golden armor could be seen in the distance.
These were the royal guard: Celestia and Luna's personal elite forces. Ponies everywhere knew them by their brightly burnished golden armor and their uniform white appearance. Behind the first squad of unicorns Celestia walked at a stately trot, flanked aerially by similarly garbed units of Pegasi. Earth ponies took up the rear, keeping an eye out for any threat that may come from behind as they rolled towards the fort.
Pensword looked out over the ramparts, soon realizing that the sound was not an enemy, but rather, Celestia. “Unbar the gates! Double the aerial guards!” he ordered. “Gryphon Slayers: Bring out all captured enemy colors! Clans: Fall in with Princess Luna for her presentation!” He ordered with joy. A jolt of excitement ran through him from the tip of muzzle to edge of his tailbone, quivering at last into the ground through his four hooves. “Prepare the royal entryway and send a flyer to lead Princess Celestia to Triumph Gate!” Pensword continued barking orders, his voice giddy, but commanding.
“Private Blueblood: Fetch me the rest of my battle armor. Lord Hammer Strike should have it finished. I shall meet the Princess as a warrior.” He liked this Blueblood a lot better than the Blueblood house of the future. He knew this was where the Blueblood’s wealth and power started.
It took a full hour for celestia to arrive and pensword and everyone else to be ready to receive her. The princess strolled into fort triumph at a carefully measured and dignified pace. “So, for the first time, Equestria controls the mountain pass.” she smiled down at pensword “I must admit, I did doubt you.”
Pensword smirked. “Oh, the amazing things ponies can do when you just say ‘do this’ and leave it to their imagination.” He quoted a phrase from Clover the Clever. “Still, I present this fortress as a symbol of Equestria’s might to the Diarchy of the Moon and Sun.”
Celestia’s smile never faltered, though she did remain silent for a time. “A most generous gift. But my sister and I believe it would be better if you were to stay in command of this fortress until our present … disagreement with Gryphonia is past.”
“As you command,” He replied. “If thou wilt follow me through the Royal concourse and to the Royal section of the Fortress, I shall fill thee in on more information, including the recaptured looted supplies from the frontier of Equestria.”
“Such formalities may be settled later,” Celestia noted. “Or was my messenger mistaken in his assertion that you were planning for your wedding?” Celestia smiled cheekily.
Pensword nodded his head, blushing furiously as they walked down the concourse to the boulevard. Statues and emblems of Gryphonia lined the path, carved deep into the stone itself. Celestia also noticed as they passed through the second gate into the Soldiers quarters they were suddenly surrounded by emblems, symbols of captured shields, colors, flags, and banners of all sorts. It looked like they had three whole armies worth of flags. “Well yes, I am planning, or rather, about ready, to implement the action.”
Soon after, Celestia saw her sister for the first time since she had left as the new leader of the Thestrals. She was surrounded by her own royal guards, yet she could detect a few subtle changes. The Thestrals were already in her inner circle of guards and the armor and uniforms that had once been a pure white had now become a little grey. While Grey was her sister’s prefered choice, it appeared her magic was influencing her guards to all have tufted ears now. What surprised her the most was the armor her sister was wearing.
Celestia’s eyes widened, but she remained steadfast, unfaltering. “Greetings, High Chieftess,” celestia nodded to luna.
Luna smiled and bounded to her sister. “Sister!” She cried ecstatically as she wrapped her forelegs around her Celestia’s neck and gave her a hug, something she would normally do only in private. “We have so much to tell thee.” Luna saw her sister’s raised brow and immediately moved to answer. “In settings like this, Thestrals use family names for the most part. So from now on, I will call thee sister in moments like this.”
Celestia stiffened briefly before melting into the hug. “It is good to see you are safe ... Sister.” she responded. It felt surprisingly more intimate than previous greetings they had used in public.
Luna could feel the recoil. “Did, Did we harm thee with our armor?” She asked. “We are still getting used to it. What dost thou think of it?” She asked her sister with joy as she pranced around to show off the handiwork. “Hammer Strike crafted it for us as a symbol of our power as High Chieftess.” She paused to look at her sister. “How goes the progress of the laws and bills to grant full citizenship to the Thestral Tribes?”
“it is… quite something, Luna,” celestia responded. “Possibly some of lord Hammer Strike’s most artistic work. As for the laws and bills, I have been pushing them through. The house of lords is not making things easy for me at the moment, however.”
“If they have not made anything by war’s end I shall use my right as a Princess to grant them their rights as citizens of Equestria.” She smiled. “Yes, I do agree. I heard he broke several anvils to make this armor. I do so intend on wearing this set to the wedding.”
“I see. Is that traditional?” celestia asked.
“Of course. Wear your best armor and one of your best weapons as well.” She replied happily. “Thestrals attend these ceremonies armed and armored in case another clan or tribe wishes to disrupt the wedding.” She replied as she fell in step with her sister. Pensword lay sandwiched between the two, terribly uncomfortable, but unable to leave. An almost night and day image seemed to form around the entourage: Luna’s guards on her Right, Celestia’s guards on her left. “Also, Sister dear, As High Chiefess it is my duty as the highest ranking attending leader of the Thestral’s, well, it is we who must wed the two.” She looked to Pensword. “Under moonlight if possible.”
“My, thats…” celestia paused “This is to be your first wedding ceremony is it not?”
Her sister nodded her head. “Yes, so we need to have some pointers while we prepare for the wedding.”
“Yes, but first, maybe you should tell me what is different about the thestral weddings.”
The great hall was lined with chatting ponies and Thestrals as they waited for the proceedings to begin. The wedding was rather simple in and of itself. The ceremony would take place, followed by a private hunt between the couple. When they returned with their quarry, they would share it together, thus sealing the pact, no matter how long it took. One recorded wedding had been extended for close to two weeks before the couple returned. Finally, there would be a massive feast and the traditional exchange of well wishing and gifts to the newlyweds.
Hammer Strike stood off to the side wearing his typical blue overcoat with its gold trim around the edge and armed with his great sword. He was keeping to himself for the moment, not in the sense of avoiding others, but rather, not engaging in conversation.
The chiefs were lined against the back wall as Luna stood on a platform where a throne would normally have been. Said throne had been forcibly removed and put into storage.
In front of Luna, Grif and Pensword stood. The Gryphon was constantly attempting to calm the obviously anxious Thestral as he attempted to adjust the straps of his armor one last time, or reconsidered his decision to wear this particular helmet.
“Calm down, would you? Nothing’s going to go wrong.” Grif sighed, putting Pensword’s hoof on the floor… again.
“Don’t say that!” He yelped before blinking and rearing his head back. “Do not say that. You want to jinx it?” He shook a little. “Ah, you, Contraction. Lazy contractions.” Pensword’s eye twitched as he jerked his head.
“Pensword,” Grif said, grasping the pony’s shoulders and forcing him to look into his eyes. “should the Colossus of Rhodes itself tear the roof away and try to disrupt your wedding, I will remove it’s head myself. If Lord Tirek rises from tartarus to stop your union, I will beat him to a bloody pulp. You are within the most secure fort in 60 leagues with all of the most powerful figures in a country’s span surrounding you. Your wedding will be fine!”
Pensword nodded his head, still fidgeting. “I should have worn my dress helm.” He muttered. “I, I,” he chuckled. “I am getting married.” He found that he could not wipe the big, goofy grin off his muzzle no matter how hard he tried.
“Yes, you are getting married. Now take a deep breath and calm down. If she see’s you’re nervous, she will be nervous. And I can barely handle a nervous you at this wedding,” grif said. “Please. For my sake, focus on the good. No looking back, alright?”
Pensword slowly nodded his head and began to take a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. He looked around the hall and found himself realizing that in his own eyes and mind this was going to be a perfect wedding. He was not going to jinx it. Still, he couldn’t help but smile even more as his ears began to pick up the sounds of hoofsteps. He began to scan the crowd to take his mind off the butterflies in his stomach as his heart rate skyrocketed.
The atmosphere could best be described as a happy confusion. The ponies present could not fully understand why they were armoured and armed at a wedding. The stark look of the hall did not do much to add the flair of festivity as the columns and walls were all festooned with seals, sigils, and colors of various fallen troops. Still, they had struck many victories for equestria in the last month and a celebration was in order no matter how strange it may seem to be. What confused the ponies most, however, was the hour that they were performing the ceremony. It was well into the first watch and some figured that this wedding would extend into the second watch of the night. And to make it even more confusing, Princess Luna had risen a full moon tonight, far ahead of schedule. The pale white light streamed through the stark windows, adding an element of serenity and beauty to the stark and uninviting hall. Luna, herself, stood in her Ursa Major armor shining like a mother of pearl as the moon’s rays reflected off of the armor, her cloak billowing as its constellations danced in a drafty breeze. This was part of the atmosphere. For the first time, Princess Luna was leading this ceremony.
The conversation cut off as the rhythmic pounding of drums echoed through the hall. Thestrals parted and turned to look towards the entrance. The ponies followed suit, unsure of what was expected of them. Lunar Fang stood at the entrance dressed in full battle armor. It had been repaired and polished to a shine. With as much pride as she could muster and a bucket full of nerves to top it off, she began her walk down the aisle.
Pensword smiled even more. All he could think, all he could feel, all he could know at that moment was that she was there, and she was beautiful. She was going to be his. And he was going to be hers. He settled down as he finally laid eyes on Lunar Fang and the procession behind her.
The armed mares of the lion tribe followed Lunar Fang at a measured pace. With every few steps they banged the spears they held against a small shield of polished ebony. The procession reached the front with a heavy metallic note ringing in the air as all fell to silence. Lunar Fang stood happily before pensword. “Here I stand before you.” she beamed at him. “Just as I used to dream about.”
“Here I stand before you as well.” Pensword muttered, bowing his head a little and directing the full force of his smile at her. “Just as I wanted, but feared would never happen.” He leaned in and spoke something to her in Dragonic. “My Thestral.”
“My human,” Lunar Fang responded in kind. The two ignored the look of confusion that crossed Luna’s face. A moment later it was gone, having vanished as quickly as it appeared.
“Though,” he whispered and closed his eyes, wishing for Lunar Fang to see what he hoped he could see. “I kind of hoped that the room would have been a little more crowded.”
“Friends.” Luna spoke, clearing her throat. “Brothers born in battle and in life. Family here and past.” Luna turned her gaze to an empty area of the room. Celestia, dressed in armor that shone like the very sun she embodied, stood bearing a longsword that glowed with an internal fire. Following her sister’s gaze, she noticed the many figures gathered in the space. Though she could not see them in the detail Luna seemed to be able to make out, she had a pretty good idea who they were. “We welcome you from the places beyond to stand witness to this grand event. We thank those of you who fell in battle for thine sacrifice to pony kind, and for those lost in tragedy, we pray thou wilt forgive us and that thou hast found a better place.”
“We have not been chieftess very long, but in the time we have, we have noticed that Thestrals consider all to be their family. Every individual is amongst the family in some way. When these join together to find love, it is said that the moon herself rejoices in their bond. Today, we gather to celebrate two who have found this bond. Major Lunar Fang of the Southern Lion Tribe of the Lion Clan has accepted the heart of…” Lunas eyes drifted to Celestia, who, with a sly smile, nodded. “Commander Moonkissed Pensword Hurricane of the Northern Bear Clan. Last of the line of pen.” she smiled “Though one can hope they shall soon have that rectified.” Laughter echoed across the hall.
Pensword stood rock still, his mind slowly grinding through the list of names and titles. He blinked a few times, but was happy to report to later generations that he maintained a military bearing that would have made his old friends from the United States Army proud.
The crowd eventually quieted down again, showing the respect due to the place and time. Many of them felt there would be time afterwards to figure out what had just happened. Did their Princesses pull something on them?
“We gather here to recognise the forming of this bond, the first marriage between the Southern Lion and Northern Bear in collective memory. It seems necessary in every culture with weddings, but we must now open the floor to any party that doth protest this union. Speak now, or be silenced under the moon.”
Grif turned and faced the crowd. “If any wish to speak, know that they not only challenge Pensword to battle, but my clan as well.” He barely finished speaking before Pensword’s grandmother stepped from her place of honor and turned. “As well as the Dream Clan.” She spoke as a selection of warriors stepped forward to join her.
From the other side of the aisle, Piercing Roar stepped forward. “As leader of my own clan, I declare that any who speak against this union speaks against the Lion Clan.” She then held out a collection of medallions. “As speaker of the Lion Tribe and all clans under the tribe, I solemnly proclaim you shall challenge the entire Lion Tribe as well.”
Over the next several minutes many ponies from Pensword’s training days took the time to come forward and speak their “and me as wells” and “Me toos.” Finally, when all the uproar died down, the hall stood devoid of sound, giving any “brave objector” his chance. None dared to speak. If anything, a few of the Pegasi in the room appeared to be taking notes for their own ceremony. After three minutes of silence, High Chiefess Luna spoke again.
“Then we shall commit the oath that is always committed between two when they are joined.” Luna spoke, carefully recalling the lines taught to her only recently. “Pensword, Bear of the North, would you commit your strength to her?” luna asked.
“I do commit.” Pensword responded.
“Would you stand beside her in a charge?”
“I would.” Pensword responded, his voice sounding like the rumble of thunder.
“And should death come needing a new friend, would you follow him so that she might stay?”
“I would.” Pensword’s voice hitched. He took a steadying breath and let it out slowly. “I would.” He spoke, a little stronger.
Luna turned to Lunar Fang. “And you, Lunar Fang? Will you commit your strength to him?” she asked.
“As long as there is strength in my wings and in my bones.” She responded solemnly.
“And would you stand beside him in a charge?”
“I would charge with him, step for step.”
“And should death come needing a new friend, would you follow him so that he might stay?”
“I would.” She replied, looking at Luna. “However, I would ask if I could stand and be a guardian spirit. Pensword has suffered enough loss in his life.”
Luna nodded. “We can see much love between the two of you. And we see no reason to stand between you. If there are no objections amongst the chiefs,” she turned to look at said Thestrals, who simply nodded their consent. Then, in a manner quite uncharacteristic of the princess, Luna spoke in the first person. “Under the moon and beneath the stars, I, in my power, do hereby name thee mare and colt. You may kiss the bride.”
Pensword blinked. Smiling with tears in his eyes, he pulled her into his hooves and kissed her deeply on the muzzle. Lunar Fang did not fight, nor did she struggle as she returned the kiss with the same passion that Pensword gave to her. At that moment, both had found true peace and joy. Pure bliss.
“It is my honor both as high chieftess of the thestrals and as Princess Luna of Equestria to announce the new couple.” She spread her wings over them as the sound of stomping hooves and cheers echoed through the hall.
The two only looked to the crowd, still kissing before they finally parted. They looked happy and Pensword felt something else. He began to laugh as a memory from the past surfaced when he woke up after she had removed his armor so long ago. He just smiled and laughed as something his doctors on earth told him came back. “You will be lying in a corner in pain, bemoaning your fate.” he spoke in Draconian. “Now look at me.” He looked to Lunar Fang, no, at Moonshade, and leaned in to give her another kiss. She gladly reciprocated.
Grif smiled, drawing his swords in a salute to the new couple. “It’s about time.” He laughed under his breath. In the gallery in unity, a single portrait glowed as the image morphed from a beautiful sunset to the painting of what for many years would be called the weirdest wedding party in history, lovingly rendered with the utmost care under the artist’s brush. While a painting of squiggles and lines in the caves of Fort Triumph faded, the painting of Pensword and Lunar Fang appeared, the same painting that Hammer Strike would see many years in the future, held in a private gallery.
What came next surprised the non thestrals as the bride and groom quickly left the room. Some Thestral Guards stood at the doors leading to the banquet hall. A confused Unicorn spoke up. Private Blueblood, actually. “Uh, is there something we are missing? When will the reception start?”
“The bride and groom must hunt their own main course,” Piercing roar explained. “Until they return with their kill, the reception will have to wait.”
Private Blueblood just nodded his head and turned around to convey the news to the other soldiers and a few of the nobles that had come with Princess Celestia. Nobles who were at this very moment, cornering the Solar Princess to find out just what had happened. Hammer Strike stood nearby as a noble he knew to be Duke Old Writ was able to get next to the Princess.
“Now.” Old Write spoke to the Princess. “What is all this business about making Pensword a commander? I understand the adoption into House Hurricane. The rumors say that he has become a rising star in their eyes what with being an orphan from the war. Still, have you thought of how to get around the fact that Commander rank needs to be given to a landed noble? Granted, he is a noble now, but as it stands, he has yet to hold any land.” Old Writ’s voice showed concern and worry. “While I understand the need to change things over time, the other nobles are a little more prone to keeping the old ways alive.”
Luna smiled “It is funny you should mention the old ways, Old Writ. Tell me, what is the standard royal gift to a newly married officer?”
Old Writ smiled slyly as he answered the question, a merry twinkle dancing in his ancient eyes. “Well, the old way of doing things, especially in the time of the first Commander Hurricane, was to give a grant of land. Sometimes a small island off the coast, other times an entire tract of land. It all depends on the giver.” He raised an eyebrow. “Have you thought of a way to reign in Promethain?” He asked with a chuckle.
“If he does not wish to have further scrutiny from the crown with regards to his cane shipments from the southern islands, I think he will back off,” Luna said “I am sure he cannot afford the taxes he has been dodging for the last four years.”
“A most astute observation. Does the Commander,” he smiled as he mentioned the rank, “know the land grants he is to be given? Or shall that come at the reception?” He looked to the wall and shook his head. “I remember being told when this was built right before the Discordian age. To think that ponies now stand in halls that were never built for us.”
“Best not forget those that helped us to win it,” Luna responded. “It is my understanding, Old Writ, that you, yourself, have a few thestrals in your dungeon over supposed ‘poaching’ charges. I do hope this misunderstanding can be cleared up easily.”
Old Writ laughed nervously. “Well, yes. I think that can be cleared up. They have actually become masters of my forest to keep other poachers and vagabonds off the land. Family excluded, of course.” he looked hopeful.
“And in return you will allow them to continue to hunt, I trust?” luna asked “They have hunted that land for longer than I am old.”
“Well what does a master of the forest do?” Old Writ asked with a nervous laugh. “They maintain the health of the forest. If it is hunting that helps it, hunting shall be allowed.” Old Writ shook his head. “I only wish I could live another generation to see how this will pan out.”
“Do not despair so much in that,” luna said sadly. “Immortality is not so glorious as the songs paint it to be.”
“Very true, yet… thou canst do so much more than any mortal. Thou art able to lead a nation with a goal and work to see it realized.” He smiled and bowed as he stepped away. “I am sorry, but I must settle down. I am not as young as I used to be.”
The beating of drums began to sound and the non Thestrals began to look around. Private Blueblood looked to a Thestral mare at his side. “Question: if you don’t mind the interruption, what do the drums mean?”
“An army marches to drums. A fishing boat rows to a drum. Drums help us to feel the beat of life. Our very hearts beat as a drum does. We use the drum to honor the rhythm of the world,” she explained.
“Most interesting. So what do these drums mean specifically, if you can tell me?” Private Blueblood muttered to himself and to the Mare next to him. “Private Noble Blueblood.” he held out a hoof for a hoof bump.
“I am Lance Thrust,” she responded, returning the bump. “I saw you in battle. You fought bravely,” she nodded with respect. “As i said before, the heart beats as a drum does. And love is a matter of the heart. By playing these drums we show that our hearts beat with theirs.”
“Ah.” Private Blueblood replied, nodding his head in understanding. “Well, I must say this was a wonderful ceremony. It really opened my eyes.” He looked to another part of the hallway before turning back nervously. “Um ... May I?” He asked, gesturing with his hoof to her drum.
The thestral smiled “It is pleasant to see a pony so interested in our ways.” She handed him the drum. “Please.”
He took it tenderly and slowly began to tap out a beat. Taking another stick from nearby, Lance Thrust began to play as well, keeping the beat with him and offering an odd counter rhythm. The two looked at each, eyes locking as each played the rhythm of life, the tempo of their hearts. Princess Luna smiled cryptically as she saw what hopefully would be the start of a mixing of the tribes together by marriage. Another hundred years and the Thestrals would be considered a part of Equestrian culture, or so she hoped.
Pensword looked to his future mate. They dared not move as their ears swiveled and turned to take in the sounds. Both turned and raised their spears as they heard a sudden noise from behind. A Mountain Lion tried to leap at them from the rocky ledge above, only to find itself falling upon the spears of its intended prey. The spears had not been something the Mountain Lion expected to encounter.
“Why,” Pensword asked as he looked at the body, “does it seem that I always kill predators in self defense? You know how dangerous a Mountain Lion is, dear?”
“Not as dangerous as a manticore, but considerably more dangerous than a single timberwolf,” she responded. “The meat is edible, however, so i see no reason not to bring this back”
Pensword smiled and looked to the moon. “Thankfully, the guests did not have to wait too long this time. It is lucky we found prey at all. I thought for sure that the siege would have driven them away from this place and we would have had to travel outside of the Valley.
“You think we can fly with the weight between us?” Lunar Fang asked.
“We can try, lending each other our strength. Somehow I have a feeling that doing so would create an interesting experience. Still, only one way to see.” They began to tie up the beast as Pensword paused. “Dear?” he smiled at the term. She was his, and he was hers. “Can we make a rug out of this Mountain Lion? We are taking it with us after all, and if you don’t mind, I would like to use it to decorate our joint quarters back in the future.”
“I think that would be a pleasant memory of this.” She smiled. Pensword smiled in return as the two rose into the air and began to flap and fly back to the Fortress with their kill. It was more like a falling glide most of the time but still they were able to fly over the ramparts and a part of the garden where Pensword had buried the last Bloodfeather in a corner of a grove of trees. He could see the fresh dirt still there. They were quick to land on the ramparts of the second wall.
As they re-entered the fort, the mountain lion was taken from them to be cleaned and prepared while the guests were informed of their return. A cheer erupted as the banquet hall was opened and the guests came pouring in.
The ponies and thestrals were seated for the most part, apart from one another. However, there were a few noted cases of ponies sitting amongst the thestrals or thestrals sitting amongst ponies. The head table carved from solid oak, shaped more like a ring, but possessing no hollow center. Grif seemed to be eyeing the details suspiciously, recognition firing in his eyes.
“Pensword,” he spoke as he sat on the pegasus’ left. “Do you know what this is?”
“Reminds me of the Round Table from King Arthur.” Pensword responded, speaking in Draconian.
“That’s cause it is!” Grif said “Or at least some sort of parallel to it.” Grif traced it with his eye’s. Taze was a rather intense arthurian back home and to see something like this was incredible to him.
“What’s it doing in a Gryphon Fortress?” he asked his friend as they waited for the meal to be brought out. “How did it get here? Why was it made if it was made?” He looked at the table. “I wonder who gets this fortress after the war.” He muttered the last sentence to himself.
“Screw that noise,” grif responded in draconic. “I’m claiming this baby as a gryphon relic.”
Horderves where served moments later to the tables along with a variety of drinks. Grif happily buried his beak in a flagon of raspberry punch as the ponies happily chatted. various soldiers and thestrals came to wish the new couple good will.
“Oh,” grif said, pulling something out of his bags. “I’m sure you heard that Bloodfeather’s things were sent to me. And I know you’ve admired my bow for a while. So I made some adjustments to the design.” Grif offered the bow to Pensword. “My wedding gift to you.”
Pensword looked to the bow and looked to his future mate. “As long as thou will teach Lunar Fang as well as I.” He looked to his friend. An enemy almost, and a fellow person looking for justice over what they saw already. “Thank you.” He finished as he raised his own goblet to his friend in a toast.
“Ahem.” Celestia cleared her throat as she and Luna stood fully, causing the entire hall to fall silent. “As princess of equestria, let me be the first to publicly offer my congratulations to you, Commander Pensword,” she said. “From what Luna tells me, it is a shared custom between our cultures to extend a gift to the couple. So, before we start the meal, Luna and I wish to extend our gift.” She levitated a small chest a guard had brought in with her magic. “If you would come here, please.”
Pensword looked to the Princesses and to Lunar Fang, then leaned in to kiss her cheek before standing up and slowly stepping towards the two Princesses. His hooves echoed in the silence as they clopped on the stone floor till he stood in front of Princess Celestia and High Chiefess Luna. He wondered what she would say upon their return and his changed attitude with her, like calling her Chieftess instead of Princess.
“We know thou still weepest bitterly over thy loss,” Luna spoke, carefully controlling her Canterlot voice. “But today is a happy time. So we will be brief. It is a tradition amongst us to give our officers a grant of land as a gift during such times.With this tradition in mind, we have carefully deliberated, and at last, decided which land to gift to thee,” Luna explained as Celestia opened the chest, revealing a royal scroll. Luna grasped it in her magic and floated it to Pensword. “We hope this gift pleases you.”
Commander Pensword raised an eyebrow as he took the scroll and with a nod from Princess Celestia, he opened it for all to see. He read over it carefully to glean as much information from it as possible. His eyes stopped as he realized just what the contents held. He stared, eyes frozen on the scroll for a long, long time. After waiting a full minute in silence. Pensword finally looked up, blinking back tears. “Thank you,” He croaked out before moving to the table where Lunar Fang took the scroll. She looked it over, eyes widening before she hugged him with a wing. Pensword looked to Grif and nodded his head, indicating his ascent to read the scroll as well. He leaned into his wife’s side and let the silent tears drop. And yet it was a good kind of cry. It felt like, at last, something was healing. “Home,” he whispered. “We’ll need to build something like Normandy. To honor all the dead.” He sighed and closed his eyes, looking peaceful for the first time since he lost his village.
Grif read the scroll over and nodded. It fit well in his eyes. Hopefully now the path to healing could come more easily for Pensword. Grif slowly rolled the scroll back up and handed it back to his friend.
Pensword gently took the scroll and placed it next to him as some of the Thestrals began to place the start of the meal in front of the guests. It was a dish of sliced fruits to tide them over for the main course. Pensword paused and looked to Celestia. He wondered how Princess Celestia would react to the scene of her sister eating meat with the Thestrals. He blinked and shook his head, feeling a little melancholy that Luna’s plans would be placed on hold for a thousand years. He smiled and nodded to another table. His Gryphon Slayers cheered as they raised their mugs and tankards in a toast to Lunar Fang and him.
Finally the cooks began wheeling out the trays of food. Different types of roasted, boiled, braised and fried meats were laid out over the Thestral tables amongst smaller trays of vegetables and fruits while significantly larger trays of said fruits and vegetables found their way to the pony tables. At the head table the trays seemed spread out in no particular order.
Grif smiled as he took a deep breath, letting the scent wash over him. “So it was a mountain lion was it?” he asked.
“Yeah.” Pensword muttered. “Seems my luck of having predators attacking me is holding true.” He looked to his wife. “What has it been? A Mad Bear? A Bear turning into an Ursa Minor? Now a Mountain Lion? When will nature learn that I can fight back a lot more than in the past?” He chuckled. The two Thestrals took a small forkful of meat and plopped it into each others mouths from their shared kill.
“Well, you do smell like a pony,” grif pointed out. “Thestrals smell like danger, blood, sweat, hunger. It’s a scent most predators don’t go for, but you, you're just a pony,” grif pointed out as he took a chunk of bear meat from another tray.
Grif saw the feathers bristling out of the corner of his eyes . “I am not just a pony. I am a combination of Pony and Thestral. You think a pony can eat meat?” he growled at his friend. He turned his head and returned to eating the meal with his wife and future mate.
“He is right, though,” lunar fang said in a hushed tone. “You smell more like a pony.”
Pensword bowed his head in defeat. “Well, I guess it will be a mistake that those that prey on me will only make once.” He chuckled a little, looking again at the table to catch them placing a plate of Vampire Fruit Bat in front of Princess Luna and a bowl of fancy looking salad in front of Princess Celestia. He also noticed that the others had waited for both Lunar Fang and himself to eat before they did. While the Thestrals were now waiting for one more to eat first. Pensword decided to watch what might happen. His ears easily picked up the conversation.
“Um, sister … I think you were given the wrong plate,” celestia noted. Luna only turned to face her sister and smiled a little. Just enough for her sister to see her mouth. Celestia stiffened “Sister … when did you start to… I mean, when did you…?” she stopped talking a moment to regain her composure. “I was lead to believe we were vegetarians.”
“Would it be wise for a vegetarian to lead a society of hunters?” She looked to the plate. “It also feels right. As if I found a part of us that was not yet known. Thou controlest the sun and the light. We are the night. And night is the time of hunting.” She paused and picked up a fork. “It was the right thing to do, Sister. For the Thestrals. To show that we were not being political in our dealings, but genuinely concerned for their well being once we learned the injustice given them.” She looked around the table. “But that is conversation which is not wise to be discussed during a time of celebration of a wedding, when life’s cycle might begin again.”
“Very well, sister. But we will speak of this,” celestia said, turning back to her plate. Her expression had become unreadable. Luna began to use her fork to eat the meaty meal, only nodding her head to show acknowledgement to what her sister had said. Pensword heard no more as another friend came to his side to talk and congratulate him.
Roughly an hour later the cooks entered once again, this time they carried sweet fruits, cookies, and other dainties that the guests could eat at their leisure. The two chefs of the night wheeled in the cake on a separate trolley all of its own.
The cake stood proudly, a decadent masterpiece staked five sections high. It had been painstakingly decorated with black, dark grey and dark blue frosting. Silver frosting adorned the edges all the way up to the top. Small bear paw prints circled the bottom section while the next was decorated with lion paws. This pattern repeated itself for the next sections before coming to a crescent moon lining the final layer. Two pony figures stood on top, crafted from peanut brittle. Both figures wore a chocolate armor. It was obvious the chefs had put a lot of work into such a cake.
Pensword started. “So that is what they were doing this last week.” he muttered before blinking as Grif chuckled at Pensword’s reaction as he guzzled the raspberries. “Oie, give me some of those. Don’t hog all of them.”
“I believe it’s tradition that you and your new wife cut the cake,” grif reminded Pensword. “The raspberries might be here when you get back. Anything is possible.”
Pensword blinked in shock and quickly stood. Lunar Fang smiled behind a wing at the antics. It almost felt like old times. Then the moment was broken as she felt a wing touch hers. She was soon pulled along to the cake in a manner very reminiscent of the way she used to pull him around Equestria. It would seem that the tables had turned. She smirked as Pensword tried to find a knife before looking to his squad. “Get me my Cadet blade. The dull practice one,” He ordered, only to laugh with the rest of the crowd as they produced it from under their table.
Soon Lunar Fang and Pensword stood holding the blade together. With a grin they cut a part of the bottom section into a piece that one of the chefs placed onto a plate, holding it in a hoof while the two ponies took a bite of the same piece together.
The crowd cheered loudly as they did and the chefs took over cutting of the cake. Slices were quickly passed out. Pensword and Lunar Fang returned with their own pieces after jointly finishing their shared piece to the table, feeding bites to one another. They couldn’t stop smiling.
After the meal the chieftains formally moved to present their gifts as was the custom amongst Thestrals. Pensword soon found he and lunar fang overwhelmed by things such as two finely crafted flagons made from ebony, lined with polished silver and emblazoned with Pensword’s cutie mark on the left side and Lunar Fang’s on the right. A very fine arctic fox skin banner decorated in much the same way as the flagons but with dark blue ink and painted carefully to give a photonegative design of the night sky behind the cutie marks. Matching manticore stinger pendants, and other such art’s of husbandry and craft surrounded them. Finally, only Piercing Roar remained. It was with an unusual pride that she approached the two, almost as if she knew her gift to be the finest of them all.
“And so it comes to this.” She smiled at the couple. “One broken sent to mend a rift that has existed as far as our stories will recall, the other lost to her family only to be reclaimed then lost once again, though by much happier circumstances. For the two of you, I am not so much bringing you a gift as … returning one.” she smiled, setting a fair sized wooden box before them. “I am particularly happy there was enough left for two,” she said, offering it to them.
Pensword and Lunar Fang looked at each, nodded, then moved as one to open the box. Thanks to their armor and equine strength they were easily able to pop the lid. They moved their wings to the crack and lifted the lid to see what waited within.
Inside, Pensword was greeted by a familiar fur speckled with pinpoints of light. The hide had been tanned and crafted into a set of personal cloaks. They looked as warm as they were comfortable. Silver thread had been used to sew the lining and and the lining itself was made by a cloth neither pensword nor lunar fang could properly identify. The cloaks were not overly long, ending just before the hoof, but the thick fur would keep the heat in. The internal fabric felt nice against their own fur, not abrasive at all. The collar held a set of clasps made from volcanic glass forged in the shape of a bear paw and lined with silver. Long onyx claws extended as hooks to hold the cloaks closed.
The two slowly donned their cloaks over their armor to test them out. They smiled and Pensword looked to Princess Luna, giving a small bow of his head, a warrior’s acknowledgement of being witness to one another’s triumphs. The two sat down again and smiled.
In the end, Hammer Strike moved from his spot, a wrapped package on his back. “I guess it is time for my gift?” He gave a small smile as he moved towards the two of them.
Shifting the object off his back he laid it in front of the two. “I figured you both might find some use for this. You can show it off later,” He whispered the last part so only they could hear, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Shredding the wrapping and lifting the cover, Pensword immediately recognized his favorite weapon, a set of wing blades designed like the first set Hammer Strike had made for him in the crystal empire. This time they were crafted from a polished silver and ebony mix, the silver being used mainly for the brace and the blades made of ebony. There were two sets, one for each of them.
Pensword slowly showed Lunar Fang the gift, careful not to let anyone else see them. She smiled at the gift. “Thank you,” She whispered. She looked to Pensword, a twinkle in her eye. “I think we should retire for the evening,” She replied as she stood up.
Pensword followed and looked to Hammer Strike before realizing how it might look asking a noble to do something so mundane. He turned to look at Grif. “Would you mind terribly if you packed the gifts up for easier transport? I think we shall retire to our quarters.” It felt so strange to be saying that after all this time.
“it would be my honor.” Grif smiled, nodding his head. “You two don’t need to worry about anything else.”
Pensword and Lunar Fang smiled as they slipped away. At least they tried to. It was here that Pensword was approached by an unarmored stallion wearing a medallion of the Lion Tribe. “Yes, however a few of the Stallions of the Lion Tribe have not seen you in combat. Let us wrestle to see your fighting spirit.”
The Thestrals, to the shock of the Ponies, were actually grinning, standing up and craning their necks to get a good view as Pensword grinned. He looked to the Stallion. “Lion Paw, I shall accept your challenge. However, let us not do so inside where we might upset the meal. Will outside suit you?”
Lion Paw smiled as he moved to let Pensword pass. His squad was quick to step up beside him only to have him wave them off. “This is a tradition for the Thestrals. One of the males from the bride’s clan, or in this case, her tribe, challenges the groom to a wrestling match. It does not matter if I win or lose. It is to see the fighting spirit of the stallion. After the match Lunar Fang and I shall retire and the other Thestrals will begin their own wrestling matches after ours. I think eight of them have been looking to challenge Hammer Strike.” He chuckled as Grif overheard that last part.
“They’ll need more than that,” Grif said taking another drink of punch.
Pensword and Lunar Fang both grinned coyly at each other. They knew what the outcome would be already. “Earth Pony magic.” Pensword whispered with a smirk. He paused before smiling and leaning in to whisper to Lunar Fang’s ear. “Seems Colonel Hurricane did make it after all. I just saw him heading towards Hammer Strike.”
The wedding party entered the courtyard where Celestia once more looked totally lost. Luna smiled with joy at the prospect of showing off more of the Thestral traditions. While Pensword removed his armor and clock to fight in just his fur, Colonel Hurricane walked to Hammer Strike’s side. “So,” he began, “What was my last time on the last duel we had?” he seemed genuinely pleased at this display. “Because I wouldn’t mind trying to break that record tonight. After we are done dealing with the Thestrals challenges, of course.
“Sixty five seconds.” Hammer Strike answered. “One of the longest duels I have ever had.”
“I shall have to aim for Seventy seconds, then. I can count that as a win in my book,” Colonel Hurricane replied with a chuckle. They could not speak again as princess Luna, in full armor, stomped her hoof. The two competitors charged at each other to wrestle. It was over in less than a minute. Pensword lay pinned, still struggling.
When all was said and done, the two ponies parted ways and bumped hooves as Lion Paw spoke up. “I saw the fire and courage in your eyes. And I felt your desire to break free.” He rotated a hoof to emphasize that it might be a little sore. “You shall be a good mate for a sister of the Lion Tribe. May your night be peaceful.”
Luna boomed in her canterlot voice. “LET THE NIGHT OF FIGHTING COMMENCE!” Her voice rang through the walls as Lunar Fang and Pensword disappeared into the private areas reserved for the close officers of the rulers of Gryphonia. Luna turned to Celestia. “This allows the Thestrals to fight and also keep any peeping toms from following the lovers. Their door is to be guarded by a Thestral from their respective clans. I heard it would be his grandmother and Piercing Roar who will guard the hallway to give them privacy.”
“These Thestrals have interesting customs,” celestia noted. “It will be interesting to know how they affect Equestria’s future.”
“Agreed, Sister.” She paused and smirked. “It appears Hammer Strike shall show off tonight.” She pointed a wing to the floor where a gathering of Thestrals had surrounded the Lord. Twelve Thestrals circled the Lord, four on the side while the other eight stared him down. They cheered, egging the others on. Hammer Strike smirked.
“Come, now. All of you at once. I have been waiting for a challenge,” Hammer Strike said, his smirk rapidly widening to a grin.
The Thestrals looked at each other before their Chieftess spoke, her voice booming across the courtyard. “He is a simple Earth Pony Lord. What does he know about thestral hoof fighting?” She smiled as she egged them on. She wanted to show that not all of Equestria’s nobility would be easy pickings. Ten Thestrals decided to attack and follow the Noble’s words to come at him all at once. One second later, Ponies, Thestrals, and two Princesses were watching a very interesting sight. The twelve Thestrals combined with the other two who joined in three seconds later. The fight lasted a minute fifty. A new record for Hammer Strike. From there on, the hall broke out into uproar as ponies, pegasi, and thestrals all burst into their own wrestling matches. Many a noble looked on in horror, some screaming for mercy. Luna, Celestia, and Grif all smirked together. “This is going to be a very interesting night,” Grif said as he jumped into the fray, his eyes glinting. He couldn’t help but notice a certain Gryphoness wrestling with some Thestral mares. Though Grif would not admit it, something stirred in his chest as he watched her. He smirked as he pinned a stallion to the floor. Shrial might just turn out alright after all.
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heh, sword art online abridged.
5311188 stories just getting started bud.
Aww, HammerStrike still hasnt managed to get into a situation where Juggernaught was even considered, never mind a necessity. Then again, Luna using her shadow walk, shape shifting and Ursa armour should be able to take out most any opponants herself. But then, there is a situation approaching which you said it would be necessary, and unless Thestral forces are going to give the Gryphon Empire a full and total Slap Down, given the timing, it looks like HammerStrike is sadly going to have to give Nightmare Luna a good spanking.
The two aids, Fox (Starfox 64), and Animal Talk (Speaker To Animals, Man Kzin Wars) If it wasnt deliberate, it shouldve been, even so obscure.
The horde under the fortress would be very useful fo calling in a dragon for assistance, if thats where the Old Freind is going to turn up, but te pictures are getting a bit confusng currently,. As for changing usually requires a certain set of spell, or for the painting to be viewed at a later date, so that its history can be changed to alter it to the current view?
Good thing HammerStrike didnt play Tysons Punch Out with that Gryphon General, He wouldntve even reached orbit before combusting through the force.
Lets put an Earth legend in a fortress that was built long before, as a pointer that the crew have another jump back to build the fortress, with the lightning bolts? Its because its large and round, and they couldnt have the the town hall clock. Then again, the thing Im waiting for is the hallway of boxes. Strange stone square columns, each marked with a number. A year. there is always a space, and the space moves, but noone ever sees how or when. Or, It doesnt have to, and the Doctor picks up another rock each time.
Yaay, Griff has got a bird. Pensword gets to continue the line he started, now all that left is Strike, and the long road back?
How the heck do you already have this many words in this chapter when the last chapter was only a week ago?!? How far ahead are you writhing? :P
5313776 actualy last week we exausted our backlog, this was just the three of us putting one word infront of another, then our editor fluffed it up a bit.
5313776
5313809
Yeah.
We also work a little every night. When we hit a grove it will be word after word after word in mere seconds. So do not be surprised if we have more words for all next week. I do not know if we shall have as many as we did this week.
Random tidbit. This is the largest chapter we have kept intact.
Second tidbit. The Canterlot two day event? That was written as one chapter originally, we split it once we reached 40,000 ish words
This chapter is freaking glorious and amazing. Great job!
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Okay, just to let you know I am going to try and respond to this paragraph to paragraph.
Juggernaut armor, just be patient I can assure you that things will not be forgotten.
As for Luna, I am happy you liked this chapter and everything that has been happening. I would like to remind you that Nightmare Moon happens after the fall of the Crystal Empire which already happened to our characters. Sorry but their is no Nightmare Moon fighting Juggernaut armor. As for the slap down?
You shall see, you shall see.
Uh, well this was so obscure I do not even know what Man Kzin War was even... what is that? Also this was not a deliberate homage to Starfox 64, which I would like to say was an awesome game for the Nintendo 64. So who or what is that? and how is it a reference?
As for the horde, that is already looted Pony treasure. I would like you to see it like this. This is akin to finding the looted treasures of the Jews during Nazi Germany's time line. These are going back to Equestria. Not to a Dragon.
Ah the paintings. Seeing as there is some confusion, there shall be a scene written to explain what is going on in the next chapter if we have the time, do not worry, this WILL be addressed at some point in the story. Do not fret and be patient.
As for Hammer Strike's attack on the General? Well, I think it would be a little tougher as this was a living being not a dummy to be attacked upon.
Wait, are you talking about the lightening rods around the fortress? Their is no reference to Back to the Future. While an awesome story. We have this planned out, I assure you that none of us is going to go back and build the fortress, that was built all on its own by the Gryphons.
Also, what is this about boxes? Not only am I confused, but every single other writer and editor is confused by the boxes and the Doctor comment.
Finally Glad to see you enjoying the information and are you referring to continuing the line by the fact that he is going to be starting a family soon to no longer be last of the Pens?
As to Hammer Strike, once more, wait and see, wait and see.
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Thank you.
What made that way in your opinion? I would like to hear your thoughts.
5314046 the pacing was good as well as the interactions between the different characters. Loved how you showed the start of the blueblood noble house, the upcoming wave of change with female griffons if grif's apprentice is any indication and then how uncomfortable celestia starts to become with the on going changes with her sister. We see a lot of under tones and more direct paths showing. Then the wedding made me giddy with happiness from pen and moon finally getting married <3. So I am a happy girl
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Sorry about the confusion.
the Man Kzin wars are a collection of stories by Larry Niven, and I think others, where its humans verses a race of highly combatative alien feline type race called the Kzinti. As an insult, one of the Kzinti diplomats is named Speaker To Animals, as they are tasked to talk with humans. With the Fox name, it was the first thing that sprung to mind. I blame Pinkie.
As for Gryphons building the fortress all on their own, well, you keep on hinting about at least one more and possibly another time loop, to even earlier times, and Griff, despite freinds, still appears to be a Gryphon.
The boxes I was thinking like a cross between a cargo cult, those who wait for the gods todeliver them magnificence once more, and a dark cult, waiting for the end of days or such, and if painted would be a blu colour, with a light emmiting magic gem on the top.
Sorry about my mix up with the timing of the various major events, the Gryphon War, Crystal Empire, Nightmare and such. I started reading after midnight, so it was read chapter, reply, and close down before going to bed, and got rather fuzzy towards the end. Still, one of the most complex world building stories Ive ever read. Hope theres going to be another chapter before end of year, but will there be a special drop in by someone bringing presents?
Apologizes for not commenting earlier, computer is buggy. Ahem. Though the foes are many and are around us, we hold the light of all that is right and good my comrades. Though things may seem bleak, remember those who are by your side, remember your family, your friends, your love ones. And when the Moon rise you shall see that the darkness is small compare the great glow of the majestic night. Be strong my comrades, for we shall overcome those who dare try to take what is ours. For the motherland of our nation!
Everything made me happy. The wedding, the fights, and surprisingly how Grif manage to fight back against his own instincts. Over all things are good, and soon the body count of the enemy shall rise.
5315243 depends on what you mean by 'grif' as mentioned well he is still a piece of tazes personality he is also in many ways his own persona. taze has been letting grif keep control during the war because grif is hardened to battle and much less prone to empathy. (yes taze has been in two battles before this and has killed before but those deaths weigh on his mind).
basicaly it wasn't grif fighting his instincts it was taze making a stand. there are just somethings you can't do after all.
5315055 if you notice my reply to brony of meddlers it also applies to your notes about grif, grif seems like a gryphon cause he is one, just a gryphon raised by a higher standard of morality then others. don't aplogize booster nothing wrong with making educated geusses or coming up with theroies. we appreciate that the story is inspiring you to think this deeply on it. we just might need clarification sometimes.
5314188 you liked that with the female gryphon huh? i worked gryphon society from the very little information we got from gilda, that baker, and the gryphons at the equestria games to make a general idea of what archaic gryphon society would be like.
mind you alot of my data was based off human thinking. wanted to make a point why equestria beat them in the first two wars had alot to do with equestria's willingness to believe anyone can fight no matter there gender. i don't consider myself a feminist (don't believe a male feminist is actually possible) but i believe myself an equalist, that people have the right to equal opportunity. admittedly we're all guys here so if i overstep a boundry or make a wronge sounding comment in the story i encourage you and all our female readers to smack me upside the head and let me know where i went wrong.
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Thank you very much for the kind words, yeah... to be honest I did not have a name for the pony who found the supplies but then I began to think and realized it would be interesting to have Pensword know and have seen the start of house blueblood.
I am also happy to hear what you thought about the wedding. I am happy as well to hear that it made you happy. May I ask what of the wedding you liked the best? Just the writer's curiosity here.
5315055
OH!
I know that book seires or rather the references to it. They showed up as a species with humans in the Animated TOS Star Trek TV Show. Wow, just did not know that about the series. THank you for the wonderful information, however I would like you to know that I did not have a reference. As you saw Animal Control if that is the one you are talking about. I was trying to come up with Pony names.
But I am happy you enjoyed the chapter and everything, also not a problem, I am happy that we got the items hammered out on everything.
5315243
I am pleased to see that Taze answered, as Grif is his area of expertise and etc. Still I am happy to hear you enjoyed the story and the writing. I am hoping things are still keeping you on the edge of your seat and nothing is getting... too predictable. Actually that is a question I have for you. As well to any of the other readers who reads this question. I am very pleased to hear that the folks have enjoyed the wedding a lot.
What has been one of the surprises you have enjoyed in the story?
5316184 i see.
5316427 I'm surprised that they would actually allow taze, or grif in another case, to allow the griffoness to join his clan. And how much people were willing to fight for the newly wed couple during the wedding.
5322494 you have to consider something, we're pretty much up to our elbows in blood and the war is just starting. she wasn't strong or dangerous, would killing her have served a purpose? was she vindictive? did she mistreat anybody? to me it would be like coming across a child sitting and crying in the middle of a battle. would some other 'warrior' races have let that stop them, no.
but thats not me.
make no mistake grif would have gladly killed her, but my instinct would be to try and protect her, show her what was wrong, show her how to be strong. or i'd like to think that anyway. never been in that situation to know but a fair bit of this is escapism no?
5322582 True, you make a valid point.
5322494
That is confusing me, well the second part of your comment.
Was that a statement or a questions about the wedding?
5322642 Statement.
5322655
Ah....
Okay, for some reason I thought it was a question, sorry for the confusion. Still, thank you for the clarification.
5322683 of course.
5356911
Personally i like the story because i can see myself doing similar if not the same stuff if i went to equestria im only on ch14-15 but i try and read when i can. Also the characters arnt extremely overpowered, which in my experience as a reader destroys it for me because i like to mentally put myself in their shoes. Also i love the MH references used like the akantor cause im still a hardcore monster hunter and when i read about the akantor i verbally died from laughing to the point my cat thought i was spazzing.
5360874 well things get a little weird well they adjust after the crystal empire but i'd say we keep the power thing reasonably even. also monster hunter was my high school career wouldn't be right not to put it in.
5361442
sweeeet same my teachers always chewed me out cause when i forgot to put the psp on standby and it got quiet you could hear the pokke theme from my pack
answer in one word: CANNONS.
All 500 of those deaths are on the head of whatever fool made the humans afraid to trust ponies with 1,000 year old technology.
For their love and their history.
The thestral history seem rather sad.
6380853
It is sad.
However, can you see the spark there? The hope that can be? That one day will blaze as the brightness of the full harvest moon? Or a thousand fireflies dancing in joy and exaltation in a meadow?
Still, thank you very much for the wonderful music you have given and linked.
This one does touch my heart.
It would be almost comical if it weren’t so serious
Portal reference, anypony?
"it would be funny, if it weren't so sad"
I see it as one...
Gotta love The Princess Bride references.
Seriously? A Fallout reference?
And don't ask which one. That is like the defining phrase of Fallout, it seems.
Whenever it talks about him with armor/armour but no helmet, I think of him wearing space marine armor/armour. I'm not entirely sure why, though.
Actually, now that I think about it, he could probably pass as a space marine, minus the equine features. He is larger than most, he is stronger than essentially everyone but the alis (yes, I gave a nickname to alicorns. It's pronounced ally's.). He can apparently behead a gryphon general in a duel in ten minutes, so he's got some serious skill. He can take an unimaginably deadly (killing a minotaur, full grown, in ten minutes, or a tiny bit longer.) amount of manticore venom in his system without feeling any effects for I think it was an hour. He is essentially a pony space marine, without any of the modifications. Or perhaps a better comparison would be he is essentially living space marine armor/armour.
I expected this kind of splitting from Pen, since he has been of a semi-split personality for a long time, far longer than Grif. And with his village (?) and his entire family slaughtered... But apparently Grif is to be the first. Taze is taking the backseat though... Not entirely sure how I feel about that. I personally like the Taze personality better than the Grif personality. I like the Pensword personality better than the Matthew personality. Although I do find Matthews love for trains to be quite amusing. As for Hammer Strike, well let's just say that I think Shawn is the only one who hasn't developed a split personality yet, aside from Moonshade. Mainly due to the fact that Strike and Shawn don't really act different, so it feels to me more like Strike is an alias of Shawn, not an alternative to him.