• Published 7th Dec 2014
  • 758 Views, 4 Comments

The Pit - CptBrony

You have to descend into the pit in order to carry others out.

  • ...


A cringe-inducing CRACK as a balled up claw streaked through the air and smashed across Ewer’s face.

He saw a bright flash, and with a loud ringing in his ears, fell to the floor. The audience cheered as he went down, elated at the apparently catastrophic blow.

The referee kept a close eye on the other fighter in the ring, Meteor was his name. Meteor didn’t follow Ewer to the ground, though. Rather, he watched with battle-driven tranquility, almost like he was watching with curiosity. Did he think Ewer would get back up? How hard had he hit the stallion?

Prior to Ewer’s face hitting the floor, his eyes were closed in a brief moment of unconsciousness and daze. As soon as he hit, though, he was knocked out of the stupor and brought back to the world. The cold floor kept his nerves alive and active, even if they didn’t want to be.

From his spot on the floor, he looked out at the crowd. They all watched with joyous cackling as he lay there, the referee counting down to the end of the fight. He could taste blood in his mouth, and he felt a crack or two in his jaw bone, maybe even a loosened tooth.


For whatever reason, old memories started rearing their heads in Ewer’s mind. He remember his ninth birthday, when his parents gave him a gi and told him he could go to his hoof-combat school. That was a great day. He also remember when he was thirteen, and he got into his first street fight. He got into a bit of trouble with his parents, but he had been attacked; it wasn’t his fault. Just like every other time after that, he maintained. It was never his fault.


He remembered when he was sixteen and got his carriage-dragging license. His family line had a long history of serving the princesses as carriage-draggers. He was proud to be able to continue his family legacy, but it wasn’t his calling. He had found his calling when he was nine.


Ewer pushed himself up a bit from the floor, but struggled. It was like when he turned eighteen, and he decided to finish his career as a carriage-dragger. His parents supported him then, and if they were alive, they would be helping him to get up now.


Would they, though? They had told Ewer that he could be whatever he wanted. His special talent wasn’t involved with carriages anyway; it was in Fighting. They thought he would be a guard, but that wasn’t for him. Instead, he took on a different path to protecting ponies.


Ponies, griffins, horses, all around the world outside Equestria, suffered. Equestria was safe thanks to the power of the princesses and exceptional guard and military prowess. But Equestria stayed out of foreign affairs; if someone was suffering out there, and they couldn’t get here... that was just too bad. And that bothered Ewer. It bothered him more than anything.


That was how he found himself here, in Griffonia. Every day here, slaves toiled away and died at the cart, t told him that they supported him, even though it was dangerous. They knew that he was out to make the world a better place. And he was going to do it the best way he knew how.


Fighting. He gambled himself on it. Literally; he made bets. If he won against their best fighter, ten slaves would be freed. If he lost, he would sign his life away. In his fight, it was all or nothing. Broken bones, blood, bruises, nothing would stop Ewer. Not when the lives of those with nothing to lose were on the line.

Ewer opened his eyes and stood back up. The counter had been counting right above him, getting right in his face with his talons out to represent numbers. Ewer pushed the claws out of the way as he stood back up, prompting the referee to step away. The crowd slowly went silent as Ewer stood, a new spirit of defiance emanating from his rejuvenated vitality. Meteor, his griffin opponent, watched silently as his opponent stood to face him once again.

Ewer stared down his oppressor with a cold, emotionless scrutiny. Slowly, he took in a deep breath, inflating his chest to its maximum size, and let out a single huff of inevitable triumph. Meteor, who had dropped his guard, lifted it back into place and prepared for the coming assault.

Before he charged, though, Ewer had one thing to say.

“I’m here to fight for the weak,” he said as smoothly as a waveless sea. “What are you here for?”

There was no response, nor was the statement a request for one. Ewer and Meteor circled one time, and one time only. And they exploded into action.

Meteor was built for agility and speed, while Ewer was built for power and speed, giving Meteor the distinct advantage in the ring. The griffin leapt into the air, though he did not fly, and spun around with his leg out, going for a spinning roundhouse kick. His talons had been dulled for the fight to prevent cheating, but he had some wicked blunt attacks.

As the foot came whipping around to take Ewer down once and for all, the stallion crouched low just as it bore down on him, causing it to miss by a hair’s width. The griffin landed on his other foot and continued the spin, with the foot coming around once again in less than second for the next attack. Ewer leaned back a few inches, and the foot missed once again.

Ewer waited for Meteor to be facing him again as he spun, but also moved into position for his attack. He lowered himself and reared his right foreleg for a punch, and as the griffin faced his opponent again, he lost him for a brief second before the hoof came crashing into his beak.

Meteor took the hoof to the face with his motion, reducing the force exerted, and spun some more before slipping and hitting the floor. He hopped right back up and set up his guard, then continued his attack with a greater ferocity than ever before. Ewer saw this coming, though, and had prepared both his mind and his body for it.

Ewer stood on his hind legs to free up his forelegs for blocks. Meteor came at him with every bit of speed and maneuvering he could, but Ewer was tougher physically and calmer mentally.

Meteor started with a left roundhouse, which Ewer blocked with his right foreleg in a mid-level block. Jumping straightforward kick, double low block; falling punch, single high block; left roundhouse kick, left mid-level block. Ewer countered the kick with a quick spinning elbow strike to Meteor’s torso, knocking the griffin back.

Meteor sputtered his breath as he stumbled, trying to catch it before it escaped. When he was better, only a moment later, he glared at Ewer with a rage greater than any Ewer had ever seen before. It mattered to to Ewer, though; it would only hinder his opponent.

Meteor lowered himself to the ground for a charge, both claws out to his sides to start an assault of roundhouse punches, uppercuts, and elbow strikes. When he attacked Ewer, nothing made it. Meteor started off with a right roundhouse punch, but Ewer blocked it and the following straightforward punch by doing a preferred-side spinning middle block and throwing a punch to Meteor’s side. Ewer could feel a morbidly satisfactory crack from the griffin’s rib cage.

Meteor didn’t let that stop him. He threw an elbow strike at Ewer’s face, tapping him on the nose with little force due to the low quality of his strike opportunity. In response to the weak counter, Ewer hopped into the air with his powerful hind legs and threw a gut-wrenching kick into Meteor’s stomach. The griffin bent over forward from the force of the strike, prompting Ewer to step away.

He wasn’t down, though; far from it. The griffin used his position low to the ground to launch himself up in a colossal display of power toward Ewer. Ewer only barely managed to get just partly out of the way and was struck with a glancing blow, sending him into a wild spin back to the ground. When he hit, he rolled away and stood back up into a guard.

Meteor regained his footing on the ground and stood facing Ewer. Neither fighter made a move to attack and just stood, trying to think of something that would subdue the other for good. The crowd could feel the enormous tension between them, like a taut string ready to be broken at the slightest application of pressure.

Meteor panted from exhaustion. He looked over Ewer for the umpteenth time. The stallion was showing signs of fatigue, but not like Meteor was feeling. Ewer’s guard was effective, even against Meteor’s superior agility. Meteor would be forced to draw the pony’s guard elsewhere to put an end to it.

The silence in the room was unbearable to the griffin fighter. They had been cheering him only moment before. Where had their support gone? Why were they so unsure now? Thinking about it steadily made Meteor’s temper rise. He would have to do it on his own. But he could easily take Ewer down; he was just an Earth Pony, after all. An Earth Pony who thought he could waltz into another land and force his own ways there through clever manipulation of foolish elites. It was disgusting.

“I...” Meteor said, his breathing turning into a seething anger forcing its way out of his beak. “I am here to fight for my home!” Meteor said nothing to the griffin, only stared. And this further enraged the bird of prey.

Time seemed to slow as both fighters started moving for their final assault. Meteor screeched deafeningly, as the ancient battlecry of his people prescribed, and Ewer bellowed his own battlecry in a complete frenzy.

The griffin fighter jumped into the air and spun while Ewer ran forward, staying a slow as possible to try to avoid the coming strike. As Meteor spun around, he extended his wing alongside extending his leg to drastically raise the momentum of the strike. Sweat exploded from the wing as he extended it, creating a cascade that shimmered in the lights on the stage and creating a rainbow.

Ewer saw the kick and kept up his rush. He would have to maneuver just right in order to win and secure the freedom of those ten slaves, to send them to Equestria for asylum where they would live long, healthy lives. He had to dodge it; that kick was meant to strike at them through him. And never would he allow for the oppressed to be struck down without a fighting chance.

Meteor’s leg and wing came around, and just before they hit, Ewer leapt to the right and brought his hind legs to bear. As the wing and leg came closer, he reared up and released a buck so powerful, the Earth would shake if it were his target.

His hind hooves collided with the leg and wing making their way toward him, creating a splintering SNAP that resonated throughout the arena building and brings beaks to the floor. Meteor crashed to the floor crying out in pain. His leg hung loose where it had been struck, far from any joint, and the wing that travelled with it was fragmented and mangled. The referee jumped in between the two fighters and leaned next to Meteor, then called for a doctor.

The crowd watched in silence as Ewer slowly turned to look at all of them until at last, his eyes laid upon the target of his liberation; the ten slaves whom had been selected for freedom. In a display of resolve, power, and immunity, Ewer picked up his right foreleg and pointed to them. From the ring, he could hear sobs of joy and he could see the beautiful glistening of tears of joy as they built up in the eyes of those he had freed and fell to the floor.

The referee walked over to Ewer and lifted the foreleg up into the air.


No cheers were heard; only the joyous sobs of the free.

Ewer walked alongside his compatriots to the border. He was not going to lead them there, nor would he follow. He was not their commander or their servant; he was their friend. The ten freed slaves talked joyously to each other, letting Ewer have some peace after taking such a beating in the Pit.

They could see the border crossing, where griffins stood on one side and ponie son the other. They all wore neutral expressions as they were neutral to each other. Ewer was the only pony they truly had any distaste for, after all.

The ex-slaves let their uneasiness show as they approached the border, but Ewer kept up his speed, so they kept up theirs. When the guards did nothing to stop them, the ex-slaves released sighs of relief that they would be allowed to leave. They hadn’t really been sure that they would be let go. They had never heard of this happening before, and surely if it had, they would have somehow heard about it.

They crossed the border, and every bit of weight that had been stacked on their tired shoulders fell to the sides and floated into the sky, out into space, where no one would ever see it again. With this new sense of freedom, they all let out cheers of joy, and danced dances of happiness and celebration. The pony guards couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Every time they saw a scene like this, they had to smile.

The griffins started running into the new country, ready to make new lives for themselves... except one. She watched her friends run ahead, but before she went, she looked back at Griffonia. She still had friends there who were captive, working even harder now that ten slaves had been released.

She looked to Ewer, who was waiting for her to run off. She looked deep into his eyes; she wanted to know. There were so many questions she had for him-

“You gonna join them?” Ewer asked.

The griffin blinked. “Uhh, yes,” she said with a cough. “But...”

“Yes?” Ewer asked.


Ewer cocked his head, then shrugged. “Don’t suppose the reason matters,” Ewer said. “It’s the right thing to do.”

The griffin blinked twice at him, then, with a smile and a happy nod, turned around to run after her friends into the rising sun of Equestria. It was the dawn of a new day, a new life, and she wasn’t going to miss a moment of it.

As she ran off, Ewer walked over to the guard station to lean on the wall for a bit. He felt himself wash over with exhaustion from the journey. He was proud of the good he did, and he would do it for as long as he could. He just hoped he could manage it for as long as possible.

One of the guards walked over. “So, you got another ten,” he said.

Ewer nodded slowly. “Yeah...” He looked longingly after them. “I hope they can do alright. How’s that last group I brought back?”

“They banded together and started a very successful rug business,” the guard told him.

Ewer nodded. “That’s good to hear,” he said, getting off the wall. He walked past the guard and patted him on the shoulder. “See you next time, Pike.”

“See you later, Ewer,” Pike replied.

Ewer shook his head. “Not this time,” he said. “Ewer isn’t welcome in any of the territories of Griffonia after this.”

“Ah, I see,” Pike said. He thought for a moment, following the tradition he had set up with this stallion whose real name he never knew. “Well, good luck in Baron Von Per’grine’s mountain mines, Lionus.”

Lionus chuckled. “How you think of these, I’ll never know,” he said.

With a deep breath and a keenness on his next adventure, Lionus walked away form the border post to find another place to cross. He would heal up on the way there, but for now, all he was thinking of was how he would trick the Baron into making a deal. He had done it dozens of times before; he would do it again.

And he would do it dozens more times. There were plenty of new days left in his life, and he wanted as many of them as possible to be new days for others.

Author's Note:

Mostly practicing writing pony fight scenes. Tell me what you thought of it; too fast or slow, level of detail, emotion, etc. I want to get better at this, after all!

Comments ( 4 )

you did great. I like the theme you have here also you could do a sequeal about the griffin who talked to their saviour

I see nothing wrong with this.

This is fantastic. A perfectly self-contained short story that packs a huge emotional punch. Amazing job.


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