The War Begins: 15 - Cavern Clash
To the readers:
After a grueling twelve hours, two more than was planned, my father has emerged from surgery, and now we must simply wait. First for him to wake up, and far longer than that to see if the experimental procedure, one borne of pony and gryphon collaboration, worked. ‘Complications’ were encountered, we were told, though we were just as quickly assured that they were overcome and ‘all should be well’.
Unfortunately, being the soldiers that we are, we know how far such assurances can go—that there are no guarantees in life, and how quickly things can turn. His age remains a concern, as does the simple fact ‘tis not yet known what deleterious effects such an untried magical technique may have. And now, as was the worst part of far too many days during the war, we are in a waiting game, anticipating and dreading what may come.
‘Tis a helpless feeling made even worse for knowing there is little we can do except be here and offer up our hopes and prayers. So for now, just as my father distracted himself from his fears and worries by writing his recollections of that first night of war, I will do so as well, detailing the climactic Battle of Epsilon.
I would normally not think of writing about battle, especially this battle as anything approaching relaxing, but ‘twill at least occupy my mind and with many Epsilon survivors present this day, ‘twould be something that we can all contribute to. As such, the quill will be passed around quite frequently for this chapter, as many wish to offer up their recollections.
—Firefly
When Storm Sergeant Blue Bolt had first proposed his plan to counter the coming Imperial attack by bringing a superstorm down on our own base, Snow Squall had called it crazy. And I admit, as our surprising Harmony-fueled song ended and our newly created tempest readied to break in all its fury right on top of our collective heads, its increasingly violent winds and crackling lightning already threatening to tear both sides to shreds, methinks I was given serious cause to wonder if he was right.
Nevertheless, I knew what was coming and was prepared to meet it, and with it, our fates. What I was not prepared for, however, was the sudden word that the initial gryphon assault was coming not from above, but below, as the healer teams who had set up shop in our vacated storm cloud vault shouted into the communication gems that diamond dogs had broken into the large cavern and they were under attack.
With a millennium of gryphon soldiers charging in from all sides, there was little we could do to assist, and I suddenly feared for the safety of not just our healers but our wounded and Gavian.
But if they were surprised, so were the gryphons, having not expected to find anything there but a massive but half-full underground vault of storm clouds. So to describe this part of the battle, I offer the quill to perchance the most modest and unassuming stallion I’ve ever known.
A stallion who, even well into his 60s, is also the absolute last pony you wouldst ever wish to engage in mortal combat with.
Thank you, Captain. And greetings to all readers as I contribute to this tale for only the second time in as many books.
‘Tis not that I have had little to offer, ‘tis simply that old habits die hard—much like the Ravens we so oft fought, the Lances do not speak of operations past, even long past. The only reason I feel able to offer my recollections in this instance ‘tis simply because the Battles for Epsilon are a matter of public record, not special operations that must never see the light of day.
I am Swift Strike, founding Bolt Knight member and one of the few ponies publicly acknowledged to have been a Black Lance. In this, methinks I am in some ways the lucky one; so many of my brothers and sisters who died in the war—or even before it—remain unsung and unremembered; their names and service records unknown except at the secret Lance monument and memorial whose location I will never divulge.
Their voices and faces live on in the hearts and memories of their comrades, however, and as I begin writing, I am reminded of the old Black Lance motto: “The only easy day was yesterday.”
In this instance, and in so much of this war, the only easy fight was the previous one.
—Sergeant Major Swift Strike (ret.)
Headmaster, Foxford University
Trottingham
Before we describe the events to come, I wish it known that I did not participate in either of the first two battles at Epsilon.
‘Twas simply by my choice and the commander’s orders to stay behind, defending Gavian and the infirmary; protecting the healers as they did their alternately lifesaving and lethal work. Though I am quite capable of aerial combat, ‘tis certain my greatest battle gifts are in close quarters, making me the ideal bodyguard and defender of critical points.
With regards to Gavian, if the commander was his mother, then I, in some strange way, had become his father for all the time I spent teaching and training him. ‘Twas my tutelage that enabled him to develop a hybrid combat style; one based on agility and quickness that would work well with his smaller gryphon build.
Though perchance I misspeak. He came up with that style more than me; I simply gave him a few pointers and a sparring partner who could instantly show him what to correct.
Methinks you do misspeak, mentor—you were my inspiration and teacher in so many ways that I cannot even begin to thank you for all you did for me. You taught me how to be a warrior when my own parents and nation cast me aside because they thought I could never be, and for it, I revere you as the father I never had.
–Gavian
Thank you for saying so, Gavian, but no amount of training or teaching would have helped hadst you not been willing to listen and learn; to put in all the time and practice it took. I am honored by your naming me the Patrinus of your new daughter and look forward to teaching her combat when the time comes.
But before the tale of the battle begins, there is a minor story I wish to relate first. ‘Tis with regret and with at least some trepidation that I must report, Captain, that I have kept a secret from you all these years. Perchance you may recall that I told you after the battle that our two Raven captives broke free of their cells and escaped just before the storm struck?
With sincerest apologies, ‘twas all a lie, as the story I now relate will show.
Outpost Epsilon
Prisoner Holding Cells
September 1st, 1139 AC
2355 hours
As our midnight deadline for surrender approached, I did not participate in the creation of the superstorm except to help fling clouds out of the vault for other pegasi to use.
I could not participate, undrilled in it as I was. As my original posting to Epsilon had been as Black Lance Liaison, I was given the cover of Corporal Zephyr Sparrow, 5th Division logistics specialist—a noncombatant—and thus I did not take part in combat drills, except to teach Gavian and my future Captain my blade arts behind closed doors.
My identity as a Lance was not revealed until the evening before the war began, when we cornered two Ravens attempting to slay a changeling spy. The latter sacrificed herself to warn us of the Imperial invasion, delivering to us stolen war plans in hopes of protecting the nation and race that was their greatest source of sustenance.
The Ravens recognized me, stating openly my true name and rank; I was able to convince them to surrender given the skill and numbers of the soldiers they faced. But ‘twas little point after in keeping up the ruse of Corporal Zephyr, given I knew how quickly word of my true identity would spread through the ranks.
Now wearing my Sky Sergeant stripes and a standard Corps wingblade harness in addition to my Lance gems and throwing blades, my first order of business once the vault was empty was to see to our two Raven captives, who were manacled and to be kept in the vacated cavern as possible bargaining chips along with the few Talons we had taken alive. The latter could not escape anyway since most were too badly wounded to fight or flee, but the former…
Their expressions were sullen, and they glared at me as I approached their holding cells. Second Spear Indra Ramah and Centurion Palidor Quetzali; two elite sky gryphon Ravens who, like the Lances, ranked among the deadliest warriors of shadow either side could produce. I had been thinking long and hard about what to do with them, and I wish it known, Captain, that the decision I reached was mine and mine alone.
In any event, there was little time to consider such things—like all pegasi, I could feel the electric charge building in the air along with picking up a faint scent of ozone; the kind that proceeds a powerful storm. To leave them there would be to let them die, and though I had engaged and even slain Ravens in battle on several occasions, oft barely escaping with my life, ‘twould be a lie to say I did not respect them. Nor did I wish them to die so helplessly and ignominiously here.
Thus, whilst the storm was still being built and the non-pegasi members of the Epsilon garrison were helping move the healers as well as all their equipment and patients into the emptying cavern, I headed for the holding cells under orders to move them.
I unlocked the door, nodded to them… and then released their restraints with a click of a gem on my belt, causing their manacles to fall free. They looked at me in some shock as I stepped back and relaxed my stance except for my flared wings with deployed wingblades, making clear any attempt to attack me for my charity would be met swiftly and lethally. Methinks they knew my service record as well as my name, and thus, they were only too aware that they stood no chance against me unarmed.
“You two are free to leave. And I suggest you do so immediately. If you’ll look up, you’ll notice we are building a superstorm. Our intention is to bring it down on our own base when the Empire attacks at midnight,” I informed them both blandly, causing the pair to go very pale as they looked up to see the increasingly roiling cloud base overhead and felt the breeze pick up.
“Our chances of survival are nil, so by my own choice, I am letting you go. You will have a very small window to escape between when we finish the storm and when it breaks, so I suggest you make a dash for the canyon wall and then dive for the inner gorge. Follow it upstream and take refuge in a sheltered cliff until the storm is spent. With as much chaos as it will cause, methinks you should be able to slip away unseen. And after that...?”
I smiled thinly, waiting for several seconds to let the weight of my words sink in. “And after that, I suggest you head into the northern wilderness, away from Equestria and the Empire. Wait some weeks before making your way back across the Celestial Straits, and then start a new life with new identities somewhere secluded in Aresia. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble blending in. Should we somehow survive this night, I will report that you were slain in the storm.”
The pair glanced at each other before turning back to me, their expressions wary. “And just why are you doing this, Sky Sergeant Swift Strike?” the eagless named Indra Ramuh asked in Equish with open suspicion, sitting back and rubbing her released wrists. “Why not just leave us here to die?”
“Call it professional courtesy,” I repeated my earlier words to them I’d used to induce their surrender, the first rumble of thunder overhead providing an ominous backdrop to my words. “Or if you prefer, a reward for acting honorably earlier; for taking pains to not kill our soldiers.
“Once war broke out, we were to hold you as potential bargaining chips, but as ‘twould seem our final stand approaches, I see no chance of that now. I am also well aware of what awaits should you return to your masters in failure, so I trust you both to not fight, but simply disappear.”
The two deflated slightly. Having failed in their mission to stop the changeling spy they were chasing and recover her stolen war plans, and having surrendered rather than fought to the death, they knew full well that disgrace and execution was all that awaited them from the Empire now. Doubly so given their failure had forced the Empire to launch their invasion prematurely.
They considered my words and looked around, then up at the growing and growling storm again, recognizing they had but perchance a minute left before it broke.
“Very well, Lance. You win,” Palidor Quetzali told me somewhat grudgingly after a glance and nod exchanged with his comrade. “We will do as you say, and we give you our word that we will stay out of this fight. We cannot wish you luck, but if, by some unlikely event, we meet again? Be assured that your ‘courtesy’ will be remembered.”
“That is all I ask,” I acknowledged, and then returned to them the farmer vests they’d been originally captured in so they could pass as civilians again. I next tossed them each a pair of short blades off my own weapons belt; though surprised, they plucked them right out of the air. “The northern wastes are dangerous and I would not wish you to face them unarmed. So take these and be well.”
The two looked at each other again, then back to me. I had little fear they would turn on me at that point, and indeed, they did not, stashing the blades inside their vests and looking upon me with new respect. They then came to attention and saluted me in the gryphon manner as one, and I returned the gesture crisply before leaving them to make their escape, heading back for the vacated storm cloud vault.
I never saw them again and I knew not their fates, until well after the war when I received a surprise package with no return address. ‘Twas one of the first deliveries of the newly established Gryphon Express, who had recently begun overseas mail service from the new Kingdom to Equestria. In it… were two of the four blades I had given them, each well-worn.
A letter accompanying them said they had not only survived, but they had made a new life away from war and killing, the exact location and nature of which I will keep secret except to say their new profession was strangely fitting, and that they became husband and wife. They thanked me again for keeping their survival a secret and enabling their escape, adding that they hoped to visit me one day.
They eventually did, and I have been in constant correspondence with them since. Under any other circumstances, ‘tis certain I would have taken their secret to my grave. I only reveal this now because, upon learning of this account’s writing, they wrote me again to directly request I reveal how and why they lived.
They did not say why except to state that they wished to show by example that former warriors—even former assassins—can find peace and new purpose. That in the words of Indra Ramah herself, that “honor offered can be realized and repaid, even far into the future.”
I do so gladly to show not just the gryphon side but the pony one that there is indeed honor amongst even the deadliest of former adversaries, and that friendships can form even from the bitterest of foes.
Well, Sergeant Major… ‘tis certain this is indeed a surprise! At the time, I didn’t question your report of their escape given we had a great deal else to worry about, though I did at least briefly wonder why you were so insistent to me that I tell everyone they were dead. Methinks I might be more annoyed, but ‘twas an act of mercy and mutual respect I can certainly appreciate. Shows of honor like this became only too rare the deeper we got into the war, but some could still be found. Here at the start at least, ‘twould seem honor was offered by both sides in some small and large ways.
—Firefly
Speak for yourself, Captain. You know my feelings towards the Ravens, and learning that these two survived is, to me, a point of great disgust. Perchance I can understand why you didst this, Swift Strike, but had it been me? Even not yet knowing the full story of what had happened at Cloudsdale, methinks I would have gladly let them perish!
—Fell Flight
Methinks I am with her on this one, Swift Strike. Having lost two good friends to the Ravens in their earlier attempt to assassinate Gavian, my grudge against them remains. I find little honorable about them or their line of work, and I find it a great pity to know they did not die that night.
—Aves Osprey
With apologies to you both, ‘twas part of the reason I kept it secret, even from the commander. Yes, I know your feelings on the matter well, but having fought them several times as well as parlayed with them on covert operations at least twice, I respect the Ravens as peers, and have even worked with them on more than one occasion after the war. As these two had nothing to do with either event, methinks ‘twould not be right to hold them accountable for the actions of others. As I believe ‘twas a lesson you yourself once had to learn, Colonel Osprey?
—Swift Strike
Please, dear friends. I do not wish what is supposed to be a time of unity and remembrance to descend into rancor. I understand your strong feelings, and know your pain in turn, but I believe I must side with my mentor, not for that but because I agree guilt by association is never right. Besides, unlike the first group, these two took pains not to kill, and thus earned the honor they were given. If I may now offer up my own recollections on the cavern battle, Mother? ‘Twas my first time in combat, and for it, methinks ‘tis time I contribute to this tale myself.
—Gavian Ravenoff
Thank you, Gavian. And by all means. The exchange you just read, dear readers, was the paraphrasing of a rather heated argument that erupted following the revealing of Swift Strike’s secret. Perchance the lesson here is that grudges and pains remain, even this long after the war, and that old wounds can still all too easily be reopened. Fear not; our friendships and bonds are strong enough to survive such things, and spirited debates are hardly unusual amongst us even to this day. But to turn the page on it, I invite my son now to begin the story of the climactic battle in earnest, starting with the action in the underground vault.
—Firefly
Thank you, Mother. As I reflect back on that great and terrible night, on all the myriad emotions I experienced along with everypony else, I cannot help but recall those who fought and fell that day, on both sides. Whether pony or gryphon, mage or healer, Talon or Corps, Guardspony or Knight, we fought bravely and desperately for our respective sides. ‘Twas both my gravest wish and worry that I would be able to do so myself when the time came; be able to acquit myself well as a warrior.
Outpost Epsilon
Underground Storm Cloud Vault
September 2nd, 1139 AC
0000 hours
Methinks I knew full well that ponies could control weather, having seen them not only create wind, but manipulate clouds to fire lightning on the drill fields.
I had even seen them practice assembling and disassembling a small supercell at least twice, building it up and then breaking it back down into individual storm clouds. But in such instances they didn’t let the storm fully develop; they stopped it before it could metastasize, for lack of a better word, into a full-blown maelstrom.
Thus, I didn’t truly know the full scope of what they could unleash until I saw this one created. ‘Twas an absolute monster of a storm that quickly overspread the entire sky, sucking up the fog from below and its wind ripping at us even inside the cavern; the constant crashing booms from its unnaturally strong lightning bolts causing vibrations I could feel from beneath the earth. Indeed, methinks I was suddenly very happy to be inside and under some cover, though I feared greatly for my mother and all my friends now outside fighting within it.
As much as I may have wished to, I knew better than to join them. ‘Twas certain I knew full well that my smaller size and lack of pegasi weather magic would work against me in such a violent environment, leaving me far more at the mercy of the swirling winds and lightning than the wind-riding pegasi and the larger, heavier Talons and Knights charging in. For me to attempt to fight within the storm would be suicide, and thus I obeyed Mother’s direction to help move the healer teams and wounded into the vacated storm cloud vault, along with our earth pony maintenance crew and all the equipment and supplies we could.
The idea ‘twas that we would use the empty cavern as a final sanctuary and redoubt when they drove us from the skies. We would hold up inside and force them to storm it through the narrow chokepoint the vault doors created, enabling us to exact an even higher toll.
‘Twould ultimately change little, we knew, but we were all resigned to our fate, and I swore that I would fight and fall with my friends defending the adoptive nation I had come to love.
Unfortunately, our enemies had their own plans to end resistance at Epsilon cheaply and quickly, and those plans only became apparent as midnight was reached and the floor of the cavern began to quake.
At first, I thought ‘twas just the fury of the newly-formed storm shaking the very ground around us, but the lie of that was proven quickly when the center of the cavern floor suddenly caved in with a cloud of dust. We weren’t sure what was happening until several decades of figures suddenly shot out of the opening, resolving into a score of gryphons, including two mages and at least a dozen diamond dogs.
We gaped for a moment, our presence equally unexpected to each other, the gryphons looking around at the empty vault in some confusion before realizing they weren’t alone.
And then, to borrow one of the many pony phrases I had learned over the past several months, all Tartarus broke loose.
The healers dropped what they were doing and immediately levitated their longbows, hurriedly notching arrows whilst the earth pony maintenance crew grabbed the axes strapped to their backs, wielding them in their mouths. A startled mage hurled a lightning bolt into our midst only to find a hastily erected shield from Still Way, who had enough aura to spare for a second spell; this one a magical burst to bowl the diamond dogs back towards the lip of their newly created tunnel. His instinctive effort disrupted their formation and initial crossbow volley, causing their shots to go wild.
I am ashamed to say that I did not react immediately myself, standing frozen for a moment until a familiar voice snapped me out of my uncertainty.
“Gavian!” A recently returned Swift Strike shouted at me, quickly interposing himself, wingblades bared as the first crossbow bolts were aimed my way. “Take flight, NOW!” he ordered me and I instantly obeyed the instructions of my mentor, evading a hastily launched and rather ragged crossbow volley from an additional squad of Diamond Dogs that popped out of the tunnel, whose neck was perchance ten yards wide.
The mages were defended by two dozen Talons and several Fortis Knights, who looked just as surprised to see us as the rest, their leader shouting orders at the Talons—all earth gryphons—to form up.
One bolt whistled past my ear. My heart racing and a momentary sense of panic gripping me—I had fought spars and even a death duel with Flight Sergeant Osprey two months earlier, and my talons had drawn blood when I had hunted, but methinks a full-blown battle situation ‘twas not something I was yet familiar with, and I wasn’t sure what to do.
Should I fight? If so, who first? Who was the greater threat? Should I use my sword or new crossbow? Should I attack our foes or defend the healers? Or should I—
The gryphon leader—a Fortis Knight tiercel wielding a war hammer and bearing the rank of a Decurio; their platoon leader equivalent—broke into my thoughts with his next shouted orders, appraising the situation and then reeling off his instructions in Aeric with impressive speed despite the surprise situation he faced.
“Mages! Kill the unicorn Guardspony and then hit targets of opportunity! Dogs! Concentrate fire on the unicorns! Pin them down and then slay them with anti-aura and explosive bolts! Talons! Annihilate the Earth Ponies and then flank the unicorns! Knights! Take down their pegasus commander and then slay the traitor!” he pointed directly at me with his war mace, the murder in his eyes and sheer venom in his voice causing my heart to stop.
The threat to my life suddenly imminent as the three Fortis Knights quickly took an arrow formation and charged through the air for me and my mentor, I finally remembered the sword on my back and drew it as the healers exchanged volleys with the Diamond Dogs, longbow arrows putting several down swiftly as Still Way engaged the two mages, aura to aura.
Methinks they looked surprised that a single unicorn, even a Celestial Guardspony, would challenge them, their enchanted cloaks protecting them from his curses whilst they first tried to overwhelm him with beams of sheer magical force. And they were indeed driving his aura back until he teleported behind one and then hit her with an anti-aura arrow to collapse her shield, teleporting a second time to dodge a retaliatory lightning strike from her male comrade before she was slain with a crossbow bolt through her chest fired by Spear Sergeant Steelheart, who then rallied the Earth Ponies to meet the Talons.
Both infuriated and afraid, the surviving mage screamed in rage at the loss of his comrade. He spun his staff and released a wave of magic that washed over me—a teleport suppression field, I would later learn—and then started pounding Still Way with his strongest elemental magic, hitting him with fire, lighting and even ice in turn. Meanwhile, the Talons engaged Steelheart and the earth pony maintenance crew, the decade of troops initially taking to the air briefly to launch an aerial volley that caused them to scatter and upend tables to use as improvised shields, providing at least some protection from the armor-piercing and explosive bolts that impacted them.
To their credit, the blonde-maned and bearded earth pony maintenance crew did not falter. They, too, had come around to me and I’d spoken to them once or twice; from what I’d learned for them they were no stranger to fighting. Having grown up in the backcountry of Swheaten where wild boars and marauding Timberwolves were always a threat, they were able to throw their axes with surprising force and accuracy, sending them spinning through the air at their assailants, who were forced to break formation to dodge.
None hit, but with their flight disrupted, at Steelheart’s order they then ran at and leapt at the low flying gryphons who had dodged towards the floor, catching several by the forelegs and dragging them to ground where they could fight them. They slew two quickly with pounding hooves and axe strikes before the gryphons retaliated, moving to envelop them, forming a loose line and drawing their mid-sized shields, advancing with them in their left talons whilst wielding a spear in their right.
But ‘twas certain I could not watch the further progression of that fight as I prepared to engage the Knights with Swift Strike at the fore, realizing with both excitement and no little fear that within seconds, my fondest wish and greatest fantasy would be realized—to be a warrior and engage an elite enemy in mortal combat.
“Gavian! On me!” Swift Strike ordered, flying in a spiral pattern to throw off crossbow fire as I’d seen Corps soldiers practice; I immediately followed his lead and his exact path. “It’s up to us to fight their flyers! Now load your crossbow! Use an armor-piercing bolt—the black-tipped ones!” he shouted back, plucking two throwing blades from his belt as we closed the distance. “When I tell you, break high and target the leftmost Knight from above!”
“Y-yes, teacher!” Methinks things were now happening so fast that I’m surprised I heard his order, but months of obedience to his instructions as my mentor made me obey automatically, fumbling home a bolt and using the lever to draw the string back. He’d spent time with me earlier that day training me in its use at static targets, and though I could hit the hay bales with parchment targets stuck to them I’d shot at easily enough, ‘twasn’t at all certain to me how I would do against moving ones.
And in any event, ‘tis certain I had precious little time to consider the fact as our adversaries drew near. “Now!” Swift Strike shouted as we closed to within twenty yards, and I immediately shot up and to the left, targeting the Knight nearest me. He immediately broke formation and moved to follow me, battle axe and his own crossbow in talons as my first bolt missed wide—I simply hadn’t had enough practice with it yet. It mattered not as Swift Strike in turn targeted that gryphon, simply shooting between the first two—or so I thought as they gave pained cries.
At first, I didn’t see why, my attention on the third gryphon as it was. Swift Strike streaked upwards towards him whilst I darted aside, the Knight’s return bolt just missing my head; the whistle of its passing scaring me so badly methinks that months earlier I might well have fainted from fright.
But I was not the helpless cub I once was, and my training and desire to live up to my own oath, prove myself the warrior Centurion Nael claimed I could never be overrode my fears. I would fulfil my oath to defend Equestria! I would prove my parents and nation had been wrong to discard me as worthless here and now!
“Close on him!” my mentor ordered as he did the same from behind, forcing the Knight, now separated from his comrades, to deal with two disparate threats at once. An Earth Gryphon, he was not as fast in the air as me or the Sky Sergeant, but his armor was tough and his strength not to be trifled with as he parried first my swing and Swift Strike’s pass, the jarring impact knocking me backwards.
“Sting and move, Gavian!” Swift Strike ordered further as we began peppering the Knight with blade blows from two sides, trying to find a chink in his armor whilst avoiding his spinning axe. Below us, the other two Knights were staggered and I saw why as one removed a throwing blade from his side with a pained grunt whilst the other was forced to the ground by a second blade in his shoulder near the base of his wing. But he was still able to fight, shaking off the blow and then heading towards the battle between the Talons and Earth Ponies.
‘Twas just then there was another eruption of dirt and dust from the middle of the healers, which shortly revealed itself to be a second hole hastily dug by the dogs into the middle of our defenses. Another six dogs popped up from the small opening and took down two of the healers before they could react, and worse, began slaying our wounded, clubbing and stabbing them as a mobile but broken Sky Sentry could only cower and sob. Our defenses split, the Talons took advantage and began rolling them up from two sides.
‘Twas little we could do to help until we dealt with the one Knight, however. Our speed told and finally my mentor scored with his left wingblade, penetrating the Fortis Knight’s armor at the elbow joint and causing him to drop his axe. He followed that up with an upward strike, knocking his foe’s head up and baring the top of his throat… which was promptly sliced open by the veteran Lance, with a spinning wingblade slash whilst I send him plummeting to the ground with a strike to the back of his helmeted head.
A gout of blood spattered my mentor, but not me; in hindsight’ tis just as well or it might have deepened my shock. But far from noticing it himself, Swift Strike merely looked at me and nodded. “Well done, lad. Now back on me! We have to help the healers!” he told me, only for our way to be blocked by the other airborne Knight, who ignored his wound to brandish his mace in one set of talons and a large shield in the other.
He paid Swift Strike no mind to focus on me. “You dishonor our race and our Empire, traitorous runt! And for it, you must die!” he announced in Aeric, brandishing his mace and ignoring his bleeding flank.
“Gavian…” Swift Strike began to fly in front of me, readying to confront the second Knight himself.
“No, mentor!” I told him, blocking his way and brandishing my still-clean sword, trying to ignore the clenching of my stomach. I had fought a death duel once before, but that had been in front of a mostly friendly audience, and facing a far smaller adversary than the imposing Fortis Knight before me, wielding heavy weapons and armor I could not even begin to heft.
“I will fight him! If he wishes to kill me I will grant him the chance! So do not worry about me! Help the healers and slay the dogs! You must turn the winds of battle in our favor!” I told him, turning towards him just long enough for him to see both the fear and fire in my eyes.
He stared into them only briefly, myriad emotions in his own gaze. He looked as if there was something he wanted to say, but there was no time and methinks he knew I was right. He gave me a brief but hard hug with his foreleg, than dove hard for the deck, leaving me to face the Fortis Knight alone.
And ‘twas a very difficult thing for me to do, Gavian, knowing I could be abandoning you to your death, but as you say, I knew you were right and that I was needed below.
I do not like bragging about my combat exploits. ‘Tis an unseemly thing for warriors in general and the Lances in particular, where our operations and skillset must remain in the shadows as much as possible. But again, as this battle and my role in it is one of public record, methinks I will indulge.
—Swift Strike
Methinks I am hardly giving away a secret to say if there is one thing the Lances are particularly good at, ‘tis room clearing tactics.
‘Tis necessary given many of our tasks involve infiltration of enemy facilities, and thus clearing rooms and corridors ‘tis something that is drilled into us time and time again until ‘tis second nature. For me, however, it became something of a forte; one of several I now possess. I can fight well in the sky, certainly, but my true specialty both there and later as a Bolt Knight was ground and close-quarters blade combat.
As such, ‘tis not a boast but a simple statement of fact to say I was the perfect pony for the problem the second front of the diamond dogs presented.
Going for my belt as I dove on their latest tunnel, I armed two shock gems at once by plucking them from my belt with both hooves and then reaching back to twist their tops against the shoulders of my wingblade harness. Once primed, I hurled them at the two greatest concentrations of dogs, catching at least four in their static snare. They fell swiftly to my wingblades afterwards as I followed up with two throwing blades that found the throat of one and the chest of another, killing the first and staggering the second, leaving him easy prey for the remaining healers, at least one of which had discarded her longbow and was now whirling and slashing with a small unicorn blade given to her by Still Way.
Still Way himself was still locked in a magical duel with the second gryphon mage and showing an impressive range of spellcasting, disrupting his opponent’s offensive magic by various means, and at one point he took a gout of flame point blank only to reveal himself slightly singed but otherwise unharmed courtesy of an anti-fire enchantment. The frustrated mage then tried to bring a loosened boulder from the storm-shaken ceiling down on his shielded head, but a magical beam shattered it before it could reach him and then, with the two having spent a significant portion of their power trying to futilely overcome the other’s defenses, the mage finally pointed his stave directly at the Celestial Guardspony in challenge.
Still Way smiled serenely at that. He announced his acceptance of the offered duel by lowering his head to present his horn. And then…
And then the pair launched pure magical beams at each other which met midway between them in a bright and growing glow. No spells, no subtlety, just a battle of sheer magical force that manifested itself in clashing beams, their battle now reduced to a simple contest of aural strength and stamina.
I saw all this only in passing whilst dealing with the surface dogs, however, directing defense whilst I slew the remainder, driving the rest back into the tunnel whence they had sprung—their appearance had done its damage however, with two of our six healers down and a third wounded, as well as losing many of their patients. That only enraged our remaining unicorns further as they went back to their killing work with a will, obeying my instructions to seal the tunnel behind me as I lit a firegem and charged the tunnel, intended to clear it in its entirety before it could be used again.
The five or so dogs inside were surprised to see me, but I gave them no chance to collapse the ceiling on top of me as my blades swung and lashed out, not lingering in any one place but darting from point to point, dog to dog, slaying each in turn—they had clubs and some armor but my smaller size worked to my advantage as it always had; I was able to maneuver in the narrow space whereas they could not. The dogs were greedy but refused to abandon their own, and thus, the ones further back were not willing to sacrifice their comrades by collapsing the tunnel midway even as the Talon eagless who was directing them begged them to.
Slaying the final dog, I reached the Talon herself; a Decurion who had not the training or weapons needed for the task of fighting me. She tried, true enough, attempting to ward me off with her blade whilst backing out of the narrow tunnel, but found her scimitar too long to be effectively swung in the cramped confines. She even fired an explosive crossbow bolt into the ceiling to try to collapse it on top of me when her canine subordinates would not, but despite taking a few crystal fragments I slew her easily when I reached her—the Ravens were well-trained for such affairs but not Talons—and burst out into the main tunnel, throwing a few flash gems out ahead of me to dazzle any other Talons or Dogs still there.
I heard a few pained cries and, being unable to target me for the spots in their vision, I shot past them and then back into the open air of the cavern, bearing down on the Talon battle line from behind. I slew two with wingblades before they saw me, breaking their improvised phalanx, allowing the earth ponies to begin driving them back towards the tunnel.
The entire sequence I described had taken less than a minute from beginning to end. ‘Twas only then I dared look up to see how Gavian was doing, and methinks I was not reassured when I saw neither him nor his Knight opponent within view.
I offer my sincerest apologies for that, mentor. But methinks I was still gathering myself at that moment, mentally dealing with the aftermath of the fight I shall now describe.
—Gavian
There had been times, during my sword training, that Swift Strike had emphasized to me the importance of focus.
Focus on form, focus on my opponent, focus on the strike or parry to come. Focus on the flow of the fight and match your rhythm to that of your enemy so that you might see it and disrupt it. But so much was going through my head at that moment that focus was nigh impossible. So many little battles happening within the cavern; so much worry about what was happening outside in the violent storm whose deadly force could even be heard and felt inside; so much fear of the Knight before me who had sworn to kill me.
What was I doing there? What was I thinking believing I could challenge a fully armed and armored veteran earth gryphon Knight wearing the rank insignia of a Second Spear, with nothing more than my sword and some mismatched pieces of Talon armor?
I quashed those fears as hard as I could. For I had sworn an oath to not only defend Equestria, but to repay the blood debt I had incurred for the six Corps soldiers who had died in January defending me from the Ravens. If I was to be any kind of warrior, I could not shirk this fight. If I was to call myself honorable and defend Equestria as I had promised, I had to fight and win!
Unfortunately, ‘tis certain such noble sentiments only go so far. The Knight recognized the shaking of my limbs as I faced him, and smiled. “Fear not, misguided young cub. I’ll make your end quick!” he promised me in Aeric as he wielded his mace.
And yet for all my fears and to my own great surprise, my immediate reaction was to give him a goading grin; the same one I’d used on Nael not even an hour earlier. “Then bring it, you overgrown and honorless turkey!” I replied in Aeric to cover my own anxiety, half-hoping I could make him attack in anger as I’d done to Osprey during our earlier duel—to call a gryphon a turkey was to imply they were clumsy and awkward; more interested in their plumage whilst being unworthy of being a predator or warrior.
Unfortunately, he was far more disciplined than that and his face contorted in a snarl as my mortal insult registered. “I take it back, cub. For your insolence, you will die slowly and painfully!” The Knight promised me, and began a very deliberate approach.
My initial gambit having failed, I tried to appraise the situation and my opponent as Swift Strike had taught me. The Knight outweighed me considerably even without his armor, and being an earth gryphon meant he was far stronger than me. That alone meant I couldn’t possibly parry his blows directly or our difference of size and strength would tell; I’d be knocked right into the ground or worse, the sword from my talons if I did.
But that did not mean I did not have advantages of my own. In time, you can be just like me, Gavian… so fast and quick nopony can touch you! Swift Strike had once promised me, but I had certainly never reached that point with him, still the fastest pony I knew. But against this Knight, who knew not how I’d trained or fought…?
He charged me, swinging his mace in an arc that had I stood still would have quickly connected with my head, crushing my skull despite the borrowed and bloody helmet I was wearing. But by the time it reached where I was, I had automatically dodged it as I would one of my mentor’s wingblades in a training spar, easily evading it and suddenly finding myself beside the Second Spear and whirling my blade to impact his head.
Swift Strike or Mother would have parried it easily, but this Knight was not Swift Strike, and the impact of metal on metal rang out loud and clear, rattling his skull within it. Surprised but only briefly staggered, he brought his shield up to ward off additional blows whilst I circled him, landing a second strike on his back near his less-protected hindquarters, my slash penetrating the thin armor and drawing blood!
‘Twas then I realized—‘twas exactly as Swift Strike said! My smaller size and all the agility training he had given me meant I could ‘fly rings’ around the Knight; he couldn’t match my speed or striking ability in the air!
That did not mean he couldn’t make use of other means, however, as he replaced his shield on his back and grabbed some form of snare from inside his armor in its place, whirling it with increasing speed and radius around him like an exotic whip. “Fool! You may be fast, but you can’t dodge this!” he promised, and the truth of the statement was proven when he lashed out with it and, to my horror, snared my hind leg!
“No!” I panicked as I felt myself being yanked back towards him and his waiting mace. I slashed at it frantically only for my sword to barely fray it; ‘twas enchanted somehow and I didn’t have the time to break through it. He had me dead to rights; at the rate he was reeling me in by repeatedly wrapping the snare around his armored wrist, I’d be in range of his mace within seconds. I was already anticipating the impact of its spiked surface against my chest or head; ‘twas certain at that moment I was dead…
And suddenly time slowed down. I’d heard Mother and mentor speak of such things; of how, in the midst of combat, one’s senses become heightened to incredible levels of acuity, entering an altered state where even perceptions of the passage of time were affected. They spoke of it how ‘twas something that happened spontaneously, an enhanced state of being that only the best and most seasoned of soldiers could experience on cue.
‘Twas certain I’d always thought it mere hyperbole, until it happened to me. I saw everything in perfect clarity from the path of and manner of his strike to how long it would take…
To the quarter-second gap he would leave in his defenses whilst readying his mace for the killing blow, leaving his head open. And thus, whether due to the graces of my ancestors or the fact that somehow, I was now one of those such gifted warriors, I saw the opening. And I took it.
Shifting my stance into a thrusting one even as I was pulled towards him, I waited for his mace arm to clear and then stabbed forward, pushing my blade with both arms. My aim was true; the tip of my sword speared right through his helmet, finding his unprotected eye and driving halfway into his skull. Methinks he realized he was slain for a split second as his other eye briefly locked with mine in shock…
And then it went unfocused and his body limp as he slid backwards off my sword, leaving the last half of it covered with gore, dropping the snare whilst leaving it hanging from my leg. Methinks I cannot describe how I felt at that moment—terrified yet elated, proud yet petrified, even horrified at my feat. I had slain—not a forest creature, but another gryphon, and an elite soldier at that. I was now what I always wished—a warrior with my first true kill to my name! And yet…
The rush of combat and heightened awareness left me as the enormity of my feat sunk in along with the realization that I had just slain. I shook. I trembled. My flight faltered…
And then I lost my senses for a moment, falling to the cavern floor in a faint.
Even nearly thirty years later, all I can say is: well done, Gavian. You overcame your fears to defeat a very powerful adversary in single combat, thus proving the lie of Centurion Nael’s words… though ‘tis certain Nael himself had yet to learn that!
—Swift Strike
Despite killing two Knights and most of the Dogs along with five Talons, the cavern battle still hung in the balance.
The duel between the surviving mage and Still Way was still going unabated and there was nothing I could do to help him except trust that the strangely serene First Sergeant knew what he was doing, and that he had the magical reserves to outlast his gryphon counterpart. In the meantime, the priority became the fifteen remaining Talons, who were darting back and forth over our unicorns and earth ponies, trying to gain advantage of position before they could shift to counter.
I was doing the same, but the remaining Talons were aware of my presence now and keeping at least two crossbows trained on me at all times, their best archers firing special proximal explosive bolts that the EIS reported they’d been developing but did not yet have. The lie of that intelligence was proven when I dodged one only for it to detonate six feet away, peppering me with sharp crystal shrapnel and knocking me to the ground with my ears ringing and face bleeding; methinks I was very lucky not to lose a wing or an eye.
Trying to pick myself up, I finally saw Gavian lying yards from his slain adversary, alive but shaking and trying to overcome the emotional shock of what he’d just done, attempting to pull himself up by using his sword as a stand. He caught my eye and gave me a shaky nod, which I quickly returned, pulling my last pair of throwing blades and trying to think of my next tactic if I couldn’t fly in.
‘Twas only then I realized we had a far greater issue as suddenly the third Knight catapulted himself out of cover into action, leaping a stand of rock with his war hammer strapped to his back and charging on all fours for Steelheart, who had been effectively leading the defense. The Spear Sergeant saw him too late as the earth gryphon slammed into him, raking his cheek with his talons and pounding him hard into the ground before rearing up and grabbing his massive weapon.
My heart clenched, realizing there was nothing I nor anypony else could do; even at full speed I couldn’t reach him in time. Steelheart was down, stunned and unmoving, helpless before the third Fortis Knight, who raised his war hammer over his head and then brought it down in a practiced overhoof strike. I had seen captured older versions of those weapons demonstrated at Lance intelligence briefings—the head was charged with magic which would erupt with devastating concussive force upon impact with its target, likely reducing the Spear Sergeant’s form to pulp.
The blow never landed. There was a shriek of fear and pain followed by a blur of blue and white as a large winged form tackled the Knight before he could bring his hammer down. To my shock, it resolved into the form of… Sky Sentry!
Finally rediscovering his courage and warrior heart, he grappled with the earth gryphon with no protection other than a borrowed Corps combat uniform, fighting him for the weapon. He was shouting and crying as despite his lack of wingblades or any other weapon he brought blow after blow down on the wounded Knight with his hooves alone, denting his armor and pounding his helmeted head mercilessly.
“No more dead ponies! NO MORE!” he shouted over and over as he landed haymaker after haymaker on his adversary, not caring how vulnerable he was without armor or weapons of his own.
And when the reeling and bleeding Knight finally gathered enough of his senses to throw his adversary off and put him in what I’d heard earth ponies refer to as a ‘bear hug’, holding him upright and intending to use the staff of the hammer to break his spine, the stallion surprised him with hard and repeated headbutts, knocking off his helmet with the first and then pounding his opponent’s forehead repeatedly.
‘Tis certain I had no idea how he was able to maintain consciousness through that punishment, but either through adrenaline or sheer desperation, he finally broke the Knight’s grip, landed a two-hooved uppercut on his chin, then wheeled and bucked him with both his hind hooves despite his still-bandaged wounds, breaking ribs and knocking his adversary into a nearby table filled with healer supplies. The maintenance crew finished the Knight by splitting his unprotected head open, and then helped Sky Sentry to his hooves. He tried to fight them as well for a moment before he realized they were friendly, at which point he broke down and cried like a foal again, two of the healers attending him with the third going to Steelheart.
The fight remained at a standoff until suddenly the mage’s aura weakened and Still Way drove his own right back into his enemy’s staff, shattering it in his grasp. He then simply magically snapped the mage’s neck, and with his loss, the Talons realized they could no longer win faced with the magic of the Celestial Guardspony; at their leader’s direction they bolted for the tunnel which they had originally come, their surviving dozen members diving down it, leaving that many more behind. Two more fell to longbow arrows and one to an earth pony axe before they completed their escape.
Though severely weakened with his magic almost completely drained, Still Way took charge of the ground defense in place of Steelheart, directing the remaining three healers to lay a specific suppression spell he’d taught them over the area to prevent further Diamond Dog breakthroughs and then help him bring down the ceiling over the tunnel to plug its entrance.
It caved in with a resounding BOOM!, and thus did the battle for Epsilon’s vacated storm cloud vault end.
Thank you for relating this remarkable tale, Swift Strike and Gavian. I marvel at your courage and response to a completely unexpected move by the gryphons, one we did not anticipate but perchance should have as we knew by then they were using Diamond Dogs on the attack. And ‘twas certainly not my intention in sending you down there, Gavian, that you challenge and defeat a Fortis Knight! Be proud, even now, of how well you performed in your first battle, my son, and fret not about your poor reaction to your first kill—you know well from the earlier volume how badly I took mine!
From beginning to end, according to Swift Strike, the cavern battle took but two minutes. The intention of this strike into the storm cloud vault, we learned from the wounded dogs left behind, was to rig our storm cloud cache to explode with all its lightning on cue once the outside forces had hemmed us into a small enough area where we would all be caught in the blast, ending resistance at Epsilon at little additional cost.
‘Twas a good and cunning plan, one that methinks would likely have worked had they struck only twenty minutes earlier before we began to build the superstorm. Unfortunately for the gryphons, they were trapped by their own offer of honor; they broke in at the stroke of midnight when our surrender deadline lapsed and ‘twould seem from this description that they were very surprised to find the vault devoid of clouds but full of armed ponies with a superstorm raging outside.
They clearly did not expect more than token forces there but instead faced a mixed platoon-sized contingent as they attempted to overcome and perchance deny us our final refuge. They did not succeed thanks to the combined efforts of all three pony tribes, but the cost was high; most of our wounded were slain along with half our healer team and two of the earth pony maintenance crew, who I recommended be awarded an Army medal—the Opal Spear—and honorary Army ranks for their superb and fearless efforts.
On the face of it, this battle was but a sideshow to one we were fighting outside under the most dangerous and deadly conditions imaginable, but as it turned out, ‘twas fortunate indeed that we won that skirmish, as the next chapter will show. But for now? We have just received word that father has awoken, so ‘tis time to see him and tell him how much I love him.
—Captain Firefly
Bolt Knight Captain Emeritus
Tactics and Military History Instructor
Equestrian Officer Academy
Canterlot
In war, there are no unwounded soldiers. —Jose Narosky
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In war, Soldiers carry scars of the mind, body, and soul...
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I thought this was dead! glad to see it isnt
I don't know how you do it, but every battle and every chapter is exciting. This whole skirmish taking two minutes is nuts. The play by play narration makes it feel like a drawn-out conflict. Glad to see Gavian getting his wits together as a proper warrior!
I didn’t see why at first,
Might read better as "At first, I didn't see why"
Shouldn't this be colored?
“No more dead ponies!” he shouted over and over as he rained powerful blows upon his adversary, not caring how vulnerable he was without armor or weapons of his own.
9423544
All fixes made, thanks.
Bravo! Well worth the wait.
9423027
Some carry them better than others, but yes. Always.
9423252
Dead? Not at all! I did ease up on it over the past six months except for a November chapter, but that was only because I’d promised folks a slew of new chapters on Unleash the Magic: Nightmare Night for its one year anniversary. And the plan is you’ll get at least two more chapters in the next month or so as I attempt to finish off this final battle of the first day.
9423402
I’m reminded of a quote I read once where someone said that warfare is months of boredom followed by moments of sheer terror. Definitely the case here! I’m glad the back-and-forth play-by-play between Gavian and Swift Strike came off so well, especially considering the fits this chapter was initially giving me! Gavian will have some rather unique challenges and role to play in the war as we go forward, being a gryphon himself. He got his first kill, but the battle is not over yet, and his gravest test is yet to come.
9424296
Thanks!
Glad to see Gavian earning his first victory, and the fights in the tunnels seemed pretty brutal.
Very well put together, this opening battle had so much set up I can't wait to see how it plays out.
I wasn't expecting another fight before the final assault. These guys need to quit having meeting engagements inside of caves and tunnels! Very claustrophobic way to go.
Sorry about the lack of L and T. I'm hard-pressed to find much material for them that hasn't already been covered due to the venue again being caves. I will say she'd love epic beard stallion from later on in the chapter!
Everyone reading this is now sworn to secrecy... or else!
The best part about this is Equestria's enemies will never really know if the Lances actually died or are still under cover. Even in death, they leave a conspiracy of silence.
I had a boss at work who used to tell people, "today is the best day you will ever with (name of company)". I think he had that motto in mind.
Even that little bit is enough to set someone lightyears ahead of average. And thanks again to Firesight for the editing and friendship. His assistance allowed me to do just that!
Gentleman, the time has come to show the enemy what we got... by building the largest pillow fort imaginable.
I wish this logic held in real life...
Huh. Lightning-themed summoned monsters from Final Fantasy 7 and 8 respectively. You didn't even play those! It's a pity too. You never got to go rescue a comrade by donning drag and sneaking into a whorehouse.
Final Fantasy 7 was really fucking weird. And edgy. Really goddamn edgy. 8 had a good card game and musical score. It has perhaps the worst gameplay of any Final Fantasy game ever made.
I had to look up ozone to see how it works. Interesting...
As I mentioned before, I would personally consider it an honor for them to die there. It means they were truly dangerous and the act of killing them acknowledges this fact.
Assuming they don't have the mentality of your average terrorist in which case they'd just do as much mayhem as possible until they're finally killed.
It's dangerous to go alone. Take this.
Fair point, but there's the old saying from that Union lad in the Civil War. "If the two of us don't get at each other eventually, how will the war ever end"? I take it as granted that as keeping them prisoner was no longer possible and the war hadn't become an existential threat to Equestria yet, he had to make a call and treated his enemies in an honorable way. I wouldn't have done the same. Then again I am a hateful, perhaps even misanthropic person waiting on the world to burn. My opinion is somewhat colored.
Firefly is such a nice lady. She's really in the wrong line of work and yet she does her job so well! I guess she's just all-around talented.
Please have my battie children, Fell Flight.
She is an absolutely based hapa and she can have all of my fruit. I would buy her all of the mangos.
I like you Osprey. You're a sympathetic racist in a story written in an unsympathetic way. You usually only see characters like her in very tightly controlled cinematic and televised narratives. Man in The High Castle comes to mind which takes place in a future dystopia. Closest thing I can peg her to is the curbstomper guy from American History X. "You see this, it means not welcome!" That guy. In that movie he found himself placed in a situation where following the path of the racist was almost granted as perfectly justified and after a time was revealed to be a mistake after his big Hollywood redemption arc when the violence he brought to his enemies brings about vengeance on his own family. At no point do we lose sympathy for this man and I'm stunned looking back that such a movie was ever allowed to exist.
In this story, the only redemption comes in the plot stomping its hard-heeled boot down on the offending racist like a piano from a pegasus moving van and yet Osprey herself is portrayed as acting no differently than any normal person would. It's a curious dichotomy to behold indeed. Perhaps if the story itself were about Osprey and not one sideshow in a large epic about war, we would have seen a more detailed step-by-step resolution for her but given how hatred naturally manifests in war it seems a pity the subject was treated this way. There. I basically said the same thing I said in the last story but with less Aspergers. My own redemption arc has taken place!
You cucked hard, Osprey. Really hard. Am I the only one who thinks that sounds like something a GOP conservative member of Congress or one of those Fox News talking heads hired to channel the conservative base's anger into safe, unthreatening routes for the oligarchy establishment running my joke of a country would say to a media shill? You are so not based! (sigh) At least I still got Fell Flight... our Steel Bat!
The whirlpool is closed due to cancer.
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I see the dogs still can't hit the broadside of a barn.
Jeez, how the times flies! I'll pick the rest of this up tomorrow. Lord knows Viking Badass shouldn't have to play second-fiddle to a discussion on the finer points of American History X.
And so it lives! I was beginning to worry! Not many stories promise a veiw of an entire war from multiple sides so for this one to go dark would be a terrible loss.
The fight in the cavern reminds me of a session of Only War I had with friends some time ago. What was supposed to be a simple combat encounter - we had enough firepower to take out a tank, and our enemies were mostly half-armed cultists - escalated quickly into a very confusing underground firefight (none of us had infrared gear, so the GM gave penalty to all our shots. Also, there were a lot more of the fuckers than we thought). After fifteen minutes in which neither us nor the enemy managed to hit anything at all, we got tired and decided to simply blast our way through with grenades, flamethrower and melee combat. It was chaotic, brutal and one of the most entertaining session I took part. It's also how I learned that using a grenade launcher in an enclosed space is a BAD IDEA.
9430537
Don’t worry--there are no plans for this to go dark! But turning out chapters with other stories in progress does take some time...
9432179
Sounds like some HALO multiplayer I’ve been in.
Done that with rocket launchers! Yeah, you learn not to real quick...
"War doesn't make men stronger. It merely identifies those who won't break." __ Brandon Sanderson
9433017
I may use that as a chapter quote later, thanks.
And they attacked into a group of ponies who were turtled up, as in fully defensive. Richard Marcinko is disappointed in the griffins here for assuming the vault would be empty instead of planning ahead. As he likes to say, "never assume or else you'll make an ass of u and me". You better believe if it was that Navy SEAL's vault he'd have put people down there!
I'll let Linky take this next one. I'll fill in for Twinkleshine as she's busy playing Vanilla World of Warcraft private servers. Gotta be in top shape when Classic goes live in the summer.
get out of the fire you noob hunter or I swear by Celestia's three-footer I'm kicking you from the guild! BUUUUUCK!
Me head is killing me, and not just because of Twinkleshine, but a word is necessary in regard to killin' in groups. If a group is comin' at yeh, shoot the one who looks the most prepared to fight and go down the line from best to worst. If luck favors yeh and everypony is confused, kill from back to front so they won't break formation. It's like killing turkeys. As long as they don't scatter and yehr aim is true, they will be yours and the War Goddess will smile on yeh. If your enemy is numerous, yeh have no cover, and they've taken yeh by surprise, hit the deck and present as little of yehrself as possible to your attacker. If somehow they miss and you live, yehr comrades will get a free shot on them and they will die. If yeh die and nopony is around to help... yeh done bucked up bucko because fighting is always better with friends!
This pretty much.
Maybe Aeric is sort of like Hebrew and you can communicate a whole lot in just a few words.
Yeh daft griffin! Why didn't yeh go over the kill order before yeh engaged? Unprepared warriors get their people and themselves killed. Never assume anythin'.
They didn't know about Gav?
Aye, aye. They had no idea Gavian was there. Gavian is just another enemy and marking him in any order is foolish to the extreme. Gengis Clop killed many but never had hatred for her foes. Hatred causes one to lose focus on the bigger picture - the larger battle taking place - and causes tunnel vision. Let the Neighponese talk about honorable combat and killing prize targets. They died in droves at the hooves of the Maregolian Horde. T'was only the fates and the challenges of seaborne invasion that spared their lives and their freedom. Oh, and that wall on the beach. Who expects a bloody wall on the beach? Oi, laddie...
The Hakata Bay Beachwall was a pretty good trick, though it did rely on the enemy landing at Hakata Bay for it to work. As it turned out, the main body of their army did land there and they got goatfucked. The Divine Wind merely capped off what was a poorly-planned seaborne invasion that ignored logistics, lines of communication and was led by men with ambiguous goals. Even the commanders didn't seem to be playing by the same handbook to the point that historians can't even determine their objectives for the first invasion or why they simply packed up and left.
Pony Vikings! Hell yes! Tell me Linky, do they shred guitar whilst running down the side of a mountain in 240p?
Yehr as bad as Twinky. That man takes good care of his mane though, I must admit. I bet he spends more time on it, than I do mine!
Tunneling bad.
I know right? Swifty is going to wrack up the KBs at this rate.
A bit lucky the wounded were killed already. Or were the dogs not clustered around them anymore? I just realized I'm unsure as to why the "concentration" of Diamond Dogs wasn't near the wounded where grenade-type weapons would create friendly-fire issues.
Even with all that fancy magic, the fight ended with a show of brute force. There's a lesson there about fighting in real life.
Indeed. All that time learning fighting form means nothing when you end up on the floor with the guy you're fighting.
Or in other words, take a holistic approach to fighting form. In this way you'll be able to detect a feint from the eyes, hands or feet and gain the upper hand.
It can get you killed in most situations because when Tachypsychia hits you, it causes tunnel vision. Being able to cope with this phenomenon and react while in this mental state requires discipline, will, and forknowledge of its effects. Given how often this poor guy has suffered trauma, which is how tachypsychia is triggered, he may have had some perception of the dire situation he was in and survival took over.
Fainting, vomiting, shakes... Killing is never a pleasant experience to the innocent. There's always a massive adrenaline crash too once yeh've extended yourself to the limit. You adapt as best as you can and it gets easier over time. But you always experience the same symptoms. Don't try to fight it and yeh'll be okay.
Or your mind will simply break. Either way, best of luck to Gav here. He'll need it if he stays in the combat zone. His enemies will likely focus-fire on him and pick him off fast once they know he's batting for the other team.
A good chapter, as usual. My work wolf certainly improve if I had even a fraction of your skill at writing combat!
And all that happened in two minutes? Either the combat was ridiculously quick, or someone's watch needs calibrating.
A few typos:
"as midnight was reached"
"before it could be used again."
"attempting to pull himself up by using his sword as a stand."
I'm looking forward to how the next chapter pans out.
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Appreciate it! Though I’d be lying if I said it usually came easy to me. It usually does. Writing combat requires a lot of thinking and careful consideration and sometimes I don’t get it right on the first try. This last chapter wouldn’t come easy until I figured out the exact order of events, then I got it.
I think it’s possible. Things do seem to take forever in the middle of fighting just because your senses are so heightened. Nevertheless, I’ll think about changing the time frame.
All fixed, thanks.
I’m glad! I’ve just started writing it. Hopefully it’ll be ready in a couple weeks.
Well, the Diamond Dogs like it! Well, at least they would if Swift Strike wasn't around...
That's okay. She's here in spirit, as she always is, making snarky asides in her Caleponian accent while pointing out poor tactics and sloppy thinking. Whenever I consider a new tactic, I simply ask: WWLD? (What would Linky do?)
Black Lance Team 2 stands ready to slay anyone who spills the beans!
Sounds like the Spartans in HALO. They never die, they're just missing in action.
Sounds like it. On the the hand, any day you're gainfully employed is a good day, on the other, I can think of some days at work where that's categorically not been the case.
You're welcome, Kohei. It's been my pleasure.
Building sofa and pillow forts is one of the most underrated joys of childhood.
We wish the Gentlemanverse was real!
Bingo. To this point, I've been using Pokemon and Final Fantasy names mostly for Raider group names, but these two got that treatment too.
Guess they can't all be classics. I haven't played any Final Fantasy game since the original Kingdom Hearts.
DB's contribution there. if nothing else, there is a certain energy in the air before thunderstorms. And I've also noticed that for particularly bad thunderstorms, lightning works a bit differently. The air is a lot more volatile and when you get repeated strokes, they don't follow the same path but jiggle a lot.
Fell Flight and Osprey would agree with you, except about the honor part. Their attitude would simply be good riddance to bad rubbish. Fun fact: my original idea was that they would simply escape, having rendered their guards unconscious, leaving a note behind that said their sparing the guards was the return of honor offered. Another idea was that they would actually be brought into the Vault, escape during the attack and then kill a pair of diamond dogs menacing Swift Strike to repay the debt. Ultimately, however, this is what I settled on.
If they did, he wouldn't have let them go, but they wouldn't have surrendered then either, or he wouldn't have trusted them if they did. Swift Strike knows the Ravens well, and I think that's the only reason this works--that he understands and respects them even if he doesn't necessarily like them any more than Fell Flight or Osprey.
Think I walked right into that one.
Whereas I'm not there yet and hopefully will never be. As for the quote, that would imply that you can't win by capture instead. The union won basically by capturing three Confederate armies entire over the course of the war; the only Confederate army that was more or less destroyed was the Army of Tennessee, through attrition in battles with Generals Sherman and Thomas. Ultimately, though... yes, you do need to remove the pieces from the board one way or another in order to win.
Too nice for what she does at times, true enough. But the one thing she's not is a Mary Sue. Calling her that is the one thing that will get me to bristle regarding this story o rthe previous one. Rey she's not.
It would appear you're not the only one! https://www.fimfiction.net/blog/843337/flight-of-firefly-part-13-draft-complete#comment/5002465
I still need to watch that. Then again, my netflix queue is about fifty movies long at this point.
Yay!
The thing is, in my mind, her racism was just a red herring; she just held Gavian unfairly responsible for her friends' death even though Gavian could do nothing to stop it. Osprey wasn't the only one to lose friends in either raid, but she was the only one to react so badly to it. Hell, Fell Flight once said that the only good gryphon was a dead one and believed it.
That's Gavian speaking, not Osprey. And I think Gavian would be an improvement over most of our reps.
Hmmm... is that anything like the Steel Samurai? I'd watch a pony thestral version of that! Of course, Maya probably wouldn't shut up about possible ships with the Pink Princess (i.e., Princess Cadance).
Well, they're there to dig, not for direct combat, though in my view they're brawlers and fight well within tunnels even without simply collapsing them on top of opponents. In the words of King Leonidas from 300, "They make a wonderful mess of things."
You're welcome to name Viking Badass if you want! Or Linky can if she wants to...
It's good to see that the gryphons were driven out of the vault and that Gavian managed to kill his first enemy. I hope it won't take too long for the next chapter to arrive.
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It’s underway and currently sitting at around 3600 words. Probably be upwards of 10k when all is said and done...
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The Gryphies, as the US Marines call them in feathered heart, assumed a few too many things and times on the first day of war. And based on what I know of the guy, I have no doubt he would have.
Celly with a three-footer?!! Poor Applejack!
Best not give me ideas in TLaTU, though!
Spoken like a true Vanilla WoW player! But yes, she’s right. That’s the ideal, anyway, but ideals are rarely realized in war. When I’m playing first-person shooters, I have the most trouble when I see a big group because I’m not sure where to start, particularly when they’re going every which way. I like to focus and isolate on a single target or group, but that’s not always possible. Generally, I just choose the biggest contribution and hope for sufficient splash damage from an area affect weapon like a grenade or rocket launcher.
I don’t know. I pull out some Latin words for them once in a while since they’re roughly the equivalent of Romans, but it was stated in Feathered Heart that when translated by translation gems, they sound like they’re speaking like Yoda. (”Around the survivors, a perimeter, create!”) That’s actually not dissimilar to how Japanese works: instead of subject-verb-object, they go subject-object-verb. So instead of saying “You go there,” it’s “You there go.”
They didn’t know anypony would be down there except maybe a few sentries--they thought they were sending a sufficient force to guard the mages while they rigged the storm cloud cache and prevent the ponies from stopping them.
Ah, yes. That’s where the origin of the term ‘kamikaze’ came from---it literally means ‘Divine Wind’ and came from the Maregolians being twice stopped from invading Japan by Typhoons destroying their invasion fleets.
It would seem I’m going to have to read up on this.
Their music will feature in the next chapter!
Hey, you can’t shred without a very tossable mane!
For as long as he can fight on his terms, yes--tunnels are perfect for him given his small size and close combat capabilities!
They were near them and mixed up a bit among the healers as well. That’s why he used shock gems--they stun, not kill. I should probably clarify that in the chapter.
When Mixed Martial Arts started getting popular, it was found very quickly that those who knew grappling had a strong advantage over those who didn’t, because most fights ended up on the floor in short order and those who only knew how to fight on their feet ended up pinned and pummeled. And just in the past year or two, there was a rather one-sided affair between a modern MMA fighter and Tai Chi master in China. It was over quickly. I don’t have to tell you who lost and lost bad.
I did three years of Okinawan Karate back around 2000. Reached Green Belt in that time (they didn’t just give you a new rank; it had to be earned). I was always told to watch the eyes, but I preferred to watch the body to detect movement. The eyes can lie. Sometimes they give away intent, but just because someone looks in one direction doesn’t mean they’re going that way. Kind of like a no-look pass in basketball.
I actually had no idea there was a name for that! Makes sense there would be, though.
I’d say he’s lucky he had only one opponent at that point that his tunnel vision could focus on, but also that Swift Strike has imparted him plenty of discipline over the past many months. As for will, he had it already--his sworn oath to defend Equestria and desire to prove himself the warrior that gryphons like Centurion Nael and this bruiser swore he could never be.
Yep. He’s in the middle of the crash here. Lucky for him, there’s no other threats at that moment.
They already know. And killing him is now a matter of honor to any gryphon who sees him, given the surviving Talons from the cavern fight will report that he was there and fought them.
The wise sentance at the end. Indeed, for mind if not the body suffers trough death of enemy or ally.
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Or beloved friend or family member.
And those wounds never fully heal. Even if you have no physical wounds, they leave a scar on your very soul. 