• Published 11th Mar 2015
  • 27,686 Views, 2,191 Comments

I Am Going To Save And/Or Destroy Equestria! - Bucking Nonsense



In an Equestria where Celestia and Luna have slain each other, a human is brought to Equestria in the body of King Sombra, in hopes that he might be able to save the kingdom from the fiends of Tartarus...

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Interlude: Today I Crush All Negativity

My big brother was the biggest, bravest stallion that ever lived.

The other fillies, and some of the mares, say I'm exag... exag... making it up, but I'm not. I'm only five, but I know there can't be two stallions as great as he was.

My name is Shiny Trinket. My brother's name was Iron Hoof, and he was a blacksmith. He could make or repair anything with his hammer and anvil. Anything. It was once joked that, if Princess Luna ever wanted the craters in the moon fixed, she could have taken it to Iron's forge, and he'd have it all done in half an hour.

But he was so humble that most ponies outside of our village had never heard of him. Even when we moved to Canterlot, most ponies hardly ever heard his name, even though he was the personal armoror for the princesses' royal guard.

He was everything that a stallion should be: Kind, humble, gentle, and brave, he didn't waste words, preferring to let his actions do the talking...

And strong. He was so strong...

When he needed to move his forge from our village down into Canterlot, he carried everything he needed on his back, including all of his hammers, his pliers, his bellows for the forge, and all twelve of his anvils. At once. On the same trip. And after carrying it more than thirty miles in a single day, he was still in fine enough shape to help unload it all, AND help me and the rest of the family unload the cart that he'd hauled along behind him. And believe me, it was one big cart.

We earth ponies grow up strong, dontcha know?

When the sun and moon collided, and Commander Hurricane began gathering strong stallions to face them, my brother volunteered, but the commander told him no: My brother had been sick that week, and was barely able to stand. While he couldn't fault my brother's courage, he wouldn't force a sick stallion to march out to face the fiends. Besides, with mommy and daddy having passed away just a few weeks before, my brother needed to stay with me to keep me safe.

Weeks later, everything was going bad. Really bad.

But there was hope: My brother and I had left Canterlot with a group of aristo... aristo... noble ponies, who had planned to go overseas and meet with the leaders of nations who had been Equestria's allies. They had hoped that the griffins, the minotaurs, and everybody else would help us eva... eva... leave Equestria, and takes us someplace where we could be safe.

And it was our bad luck that, two days out at sea, we ran right into the Boarc fleet.

We had hoped, at first, that the boarcs were there to help, but when the first round of cannon fire crossed our bows, those hopes were quickly dashed. The captain threw up the white flag, thinking that the previous attack was a warning shot... and a minute later, was reduced to a red mist when another cannonball hit him dead on. The boarcs weren't going to risk us escaping, to tell other nations that Equestria was in danger, and to rally others to our aid. No, they were going to take over, take everything, and sail off before anyone know what was going on...

A lot of the other ponies started crying, afraid. My brother, who had signed on as a bodyguard because he was so big and strong?

He just got mad.

As the biggest, baddest ship of the Boarc fleet approached, my brother, in armor that he had crafted himself, picked up his lance in his teeth, and as one of the cannons fired a shot fit to blow us out of the water, my brother swung his lance, struck the cannonball...

...and sent it flying right back into the cannon that had fired it.

The cannon exploded, and as the Boarc ship erupted into fire and chaos, my brother dashed across the deck of our ship, and jumped, landing on the deck of the boarc's flagship.

Oh, how I wish you could have seen the battle that followed. The boarcs hadn't been expecting a fight on their ship, so hardly any of them were armed or armored, and most of them were sailors, not soldiers. My brother might not have been a soldier, but he was as big and as strong as any five stallions you've ever met put together. As other ships began sailing over, trying to render aid, my brother held his ground against them.

My brother could not be beaten, not by dozens, not by hundreds! Part of it was his armor: My brother wore special armor, made from something he called Nth metal. He said that while wearing it, wizards couldn't use magic against him. But it wasn't just Nth metal: Adamantine, mythril, if there was ever a metal that worked well in armor, my brother's armor had it, and then some. The only way that the boarcs could take him down was with cannonfire, and they couldn't, because their ruler was on the very ship my brother was fighting on.

How do I know that? Because Diretusk's personal bodyguard, the Swineherd, climbed up onto the deck, and started going hoof to trotter with my big brother...

And if you think the fight from before was something to see, you hadn't seen anything yet: The biggest, strongest Boarc that ever lived, versus the biggest, strongest earth pony that ever lived. You could have sold tickets for an event like that. The two of them were fighting all out, and matched one another blow for blow. It was a battle that the bards would have sung epics about.

I was so busy watching the fight that I didn't notice that the ship I was on was sailing away. I didn't see why until the massive tenta... tenta... grabby-thingies of Squirk, the sea fiend, appeared, and started pulling down ships, one by one. We had to flee, the sailors told me: Squirk was quickly working his way towards us, taking down ships as he went. If we had stayed, then we all would have died.

All I could do was cry as the ship I was on sailed away, back to Equestria, leaving my brother behind, to a fate unknown...

The other fillies tell me that there was no way my brother was so strong. These days, they make up stories about him, in good fun, mostly.

They say stuff like, "Princesses Celestia and Luna had to use magic to move the sun and moon. All Iron Hoof had to do was glare at them, and they moved all on their own." "Lightning doesn't strike Iron Hoof; Iron Hoof strikes lightning." "Iron Hoof does not sleep, he waits." "Iron Hoof didn't need a forge, hammer, or an anvil to work metal: He would just pick up the metal, melt it with an angry stare, and then beat it into shape with his bare hooves." And so on.

If they had only seen him back then, they'd realize that, no matter what story they made up about him, it would never match the real thing...
-------------------------------------------

That was then...
--------------------------------------------

This is now.

As Acorn began studying the glass globe that contained Smooze, hoping to find a better solution than just breaking the glass, she was so focused on her task that she failed to notice a second boarc, the jailer's assistant, coming down a stairway on her right. The first she knew of him was when he slammed into her, at a full charge, with enough force to knock her off her hooves and into a nearby wall.

The blow was so severe that the normally reserved changeling let out a cry of pain. Acorn would have been embarrassed to admit that it was a particularly loud one...

The boarc who had struck her, who just seconds ago, was all fury and rage, suddenly looked terrified. "Don't be so loud," he whispered, pointing at a door he was standing in front of, a massive one bound with chains and a large bar across it, and also covered with magic runes. "You'll wake him up!"

But Iron Hoof does not sleep, he waits.

The door suddenly flew off of its hinges, taking the chains, the bar, and most of the wall with it, flattening the boarc against the opposite wall with such force that the boarc was thrown through it... and possibly through several others, although from where Acorn lay, it was difficult to be sure.

As the dust and wreckage cleared, a massive, impressively muscled pony with a gray coat, a black mane, and an anvil for a cutie mark emerged, a scowl on his face. "Ah'm already up," he said to what little was probably left of the boarc.

The jailer, surprisingly, slept through the entire thing, or perhaps was only pretending to sleep, lest he draw the ire of a stallion who could do that kind of damage with his bare hooves.

Taking in the appearance of the stallion, Acorn asked, "Would you happen to be Iron Hoof?"

The stallion nodded, and said, "Eeyup."

"Your sister speaks well of you," the disguised changeling said, then admitted, "although her description of you didn't do you justice."

Author's Note:

Peter Francisco, the Virginia Hercules, a giant of a man, and a blacksmith, he was also called, by General George Washington himself, a one man army.

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