The War Begins: 9 - The Will to Fight
When Princess Celestia first asked me to write this account of my life and the war to follow, ‘twas only with greatest reluctance I agreed to.
In truth, I dreaded the memories and awakened emotions doing so was likely to generate within me; all the anger and fear, sorrow and rage, defeat and despair I felt far too often during those years of war. And yet, ‘twould seem I had forgotten that there were other, equally powerful emotions at play as well. Happiness and joy. Passion and pride. Triumph and glory. The sheer rush of battle and victory…
Indeed, I had in some ways forgotten that through all the death and destruction; through all the battles I fought, with not my fate but that of my very nation resting on a wingblade’s edge, ‘twas only during those battles that I felt the most alive and the deepest of bonds were built.
War creates hate, but it also forges equally powerful friendships; creates comrades and lovers surprisingly readily, drawing both individuals and societies and even entire nations closer together. For as much of the world as it eventually involved, ‘twas a war to end all wars some said we fought, yet when the bloodshed ended, the alliances and friendships we forged remained. I would never say I was glad the war came, but I am glad for most of its outcomes, which advanced the cause of harmony between races throughout the world.
But such is obvious only in the hindsight the decades since can provide. For far worse outcomes were not just possible, but indeed seemed all too likely throughout the course of the conflict…
And on the very first day of the war, one of them was the destruction of the Cloudsdale Weather Factory and the death of all who worked there. Cloudsdale is vast and the factory itself quite sprawling, employing nearly a thousand workers, the city’s iconic industry and arguably the most essential one for Equestria’s existence. ‘Tis little wonder then, that the gryphons targeted it immediately, sending nearly two millennia of soldiers to see to its destruction.
You have seen the start of the attack from Thunderbolt’s friend. Now I invite you to witness it from another point of view, and reflect on the desperate actions of those who were not soldiers as they struggled to survive the unthinkable...
That those who lived were not those who waited for rescue but acted to save themselves.
—Firefly
Thank you, Captain. Hello, followers of this tale. I am Morning Glory, younger sister of Fell Flight, her junior by six years. We share the same sire, but not the same mother, and perchance that is why I had not her fighting blood or nocturnal nature, nor any particular inclination to eat meat. I was then and once again am now a weather worker, as had all of members of our family been before Fell Flight decided to be the first soldier of our line. But she was assuredly not the last, as I would follow in her wingbeats for the events to be described, answering Equestria’s call to arms... though in truth, with the weather factory destroyed and many near and dear to me dead, there was little else I could do in the aftermath of that awful first day of war.
The story I will now relate is a far more common one for the survivors that day; a story of how, with no soldiers to protect us at first, we survived the surprise attack and eventually fought back not with spears or swords, but using that which we knew best and had ready access to…
The weather.
—Sky Sergeant Morning Glory
Head of Storm Cloud Production
Cloudsdale Weather Factory
Cloudsdale
‘Twas a day I will never forget, but one that began as Thunderbolt’s friend previously described—completely calm with no hint of danger on the horizon; a late summer day the same as any other. I awoke at sunrise to my mother and the other mares of my father’s herd making us all breakfast; we ate and dressed and otherwise got ready for the day. Once my sire had seen my youngest sister Heat Wave off to school, we then flew out to the factory, though we soon parted with a hug to go to our separate jobs. Though my parents and indeed, most of my parents’ herd worked in the winter weather department, creating and stockpiling icy winds and snow clouds, I worked in the Rainbow Factory, where we created and maintained the city’s iconic rainbow falls and even packaged them for export to other places like Canterlot.
‘Twas work I enjoyed, though I still hoped for a transfer one day to the Storm Department, where specially screened and trained workers generated military-grade lightning clouds for the Equestrian Aerial Corps and Cloudsdale Militia. ‘Twas not only higher-paying and more prestigious work, but in an indirect way, I thought I would be helping my older sister, who I admired greatly. Her many martial feats meant her name was now well-known throughout Cloudsdale and great favor fell upon our family for it…
Rather ironic given how resoundingly its citizens once rejected her for her thestral heritage and how our entire herd suffered for it.
But even then, that was long in the past, and I spared it no thought that cool and sunny morning. The first half of the workday passed normally, at least until our lunch shift neared. Weather factory workers ate in four half-hour shifts starting at 11am and ending at 1pm, though they rotated the shifts amongst the various departments from month to month. For September, the Rainbow Factory was given the latest time slot at 12:30, so ‘twas at 12:15 that we were just starting to pause our operations. ‘Twas said that cafeteria was serving Cloud Creole that day, a Neigh Orleans specialty and worker favorite, and methinks our biggest fear to that point was that they would be little left for us in the last shift.
Unfortunately, we soon learned that lunch was the least of our worries as citywide alarms and a never-before-heard call to arms sounded just before many hundreds of gryphon soldiers descended on the city and factory. We had no warning before that, and we knew not what to do anyway; in fact, methinks we did not understand what was happening and how dire our straits truly were until the Ravens appeared and began cutting us down.
The difference was, like far too many others, we had no soldier of Thunderbolt’s stature to protect us; all we could do was lock ourselves in our workplaces or smaller side rooms and pray for rescue as alarms continued to shriek throughout the factory and city. What we didn’t know was that the Knights had already besieged both the small Corps garrison that adjoined the factory and the main militia base on the other end of Cloudsdale that was supposed to be the city’s primary defense, standing watch as the Ravens began their deadly work throughout the sprawling weather factory, paying particular attention, as it turned out, to the storm cloud plants, as they were military facilities defended by soldiers. But the other buildings were not neglected; ‘twas clearly their intention to destroy the entirety of the complex and with it Equestria’s ability to control the weather, depriving us of not just our storm cloud supply but even our ability to so much as water our crops.
Given that our purpose was more ornamental than functional, the Rainbow Factory was understandably not a primary target of the gryphons, so they did not reach us right away. That meant we had some chance to take cover, quickly barricading ourselves inside the sealed and windowless rainbow mixing room once we heard the alarms and realized what was happening, shoving tables and other furniture up against the doorways. Though pegasi were historically a warrior race and Equestria’s air force dating back to the days of antiquity we had no training, no weapons... and ‘twould seem, no hope.
‘Tis no secret that Pegasi have a long and proud martial past, dating back to the days of Commander Hurricane and the Royal Legion. Much like the gryphons, pride in our history and warrior heritage are drummed into us from birth, and not without reason given the many battles and wars we have fought over the past several millennia, to say nothing of the warrior-heroes they produced.
‘Tis worth noting we had our own imperial phase in times of antiquity, forging an empire called “The Enclave” that lasted several centuries, and even following the tribal unification that gave birth to Equestria, ‘tis our race who have oft bore the the bulk of the fighting—and suffered the brunt of casualties—in Equestria’s wars. It is thus said by some that all pegasi are of warrior stock, fully capable of fighting, and that any attempt to conquer Cloudsdale in face of its populace would end in disaster for an attacker.
Try telling that to the thousand or more gryphons that descended on the Cloudsdale weather factory on the first day of the war. The lie of that belief was proven when all we could initially do was hide and flee, praying not to be found as nearly two hundred grey-dyed Ravens came calling, hunting us down without hesitation or mercy. We were workers, not warriors; we never expected we would come to work that day only to find ourselves in a fight for our very lives. We had no weapons or martial training, and up against feared foes like the Knights or Ravens we had no chance, able only to cower and conceal ourselves wherever we could.
So we did. Though we in the Rainbow Factory were initially ignored, they did indeed finally come calling for us within just a few minutes; we heard their harsh Aeric speech outside and talon clacks on the floor followed by the scraping sounds of them placing crystal charges on the walls and doors. They clearly intended to breach the room and once they did… whatever improvised defense we had would not avail us against trained warriors of such terrible skill; ‘twas certain we were as good as dead.
There were about forty of us there, most cowering but the bravest among us brandishing whatever blunt items they could find, ranging from metal pipe pieces to mops from a janitor’s closet. A few suggested trying to hold them back with wind from our wings, but most of us could barely generate a breeze. Nor were there any clouds we could fire lighting from, and truth be told, unless you were practiced in doing so, triggering a cloud to release its bolts could be as much a danger to you as your target.
Our options were few, and our time was short. “They’re coming through!” one of my coworkers shrieked as we heard the first charges go off as they tried to break the door down with explosive gems but failed, finding it surprisingly difficult to get through—a necessary precaution not against attack, but against an accident, as I will explain shortly—then trying again, this time targeting the hinges.
We had perchance a minute remaining, and another frantic glance around the room showed that there was little we could use to defend ourselves; all we had at our immediate disposal were the rainbow mixing vats and our safety gear for working with them…
... and ‘twas then an idea occurred to me.
Before we continue, an explanation is in order for those ponies who are not pegasi or are otherwise simply unfamiliar with how weather control works.
To begin with, it must be understood that the Cloudsdale Weather Factory makes far more than rain, snow, or storm clouds. We can create and store in isolation any aspect of weather including wind, cold or warm fronts, lightning... and of course, rainbows.
‘Twas in the last, surprisingly, that lay our potential salvation, and I quickly told my coworkers an idea for how we could use them. Rainbows are beautiful, and Cloudsdale’s signature rainbow falls are a popular tourist attraction for visiting unicorns and earth ponies, who are able to walk among us once they have taken a cloudwalking potion or had the spell it contains cast on them. But rainbow creation is not simple or straightforward, requiring special care—the magical components that make them up are somewhat volatile and requires a degree of eye and breathing protection to be around, as the fumes are in fact quite caustic.
Concentrated rainbow essence, in fact, is oft used as a pegasus food spice and has just recently begun to be marketed as a rather potent hot sauce to earth ponies and unicorns—one that you’re only supposed to use a few drops of at a time in any given food recipe. Indeed, ‘tis certain I’ll never forget the one time in her mid-teens that Fell Flight accepted a dare from several colts to drink a small bottle of it and ended up in agony for hours afterwards…
Thank you for reminding me of that, my dear Glory, as well as the severe digestive discomfort and loss of taste I suffered for days afterwards! ‘Twas my own fault, though. As you well know, I simply couldn’t resist a dare or challenge back then. I was a firecracker, as the minotaurs say, full of fight and possessing a constant need to prove myself, even over foalish bets like that.
—Fell Flight
Methinks I would say no less now, my sister! But in truth, I always admired you for your ability to pursue your dreams and not let anything stand in their way. You knew all along you were meant for more than weather work, and you proved it by becoming one of the greatest ponies who ever lived, both in war and in the peace that followed. ‘Tis certain our parents would be very proud of you for all you have accomplished and all you overcame. I do wish you would come home to Cloudsdale more often, though...
I do owe you more frequent visits, but Cloudsdale is no longer my home, dear Glory. You wouldst understand that my memories of that place are generally unpleasant ones given the bullying and bigotry I endured, to say nothing of the outright disfavor my thestral eyes brought us all during my upbringing. I greatly prefer to remain with my bat-pony brethren and herd in the Canterlot Conclave as much as possible, helping them to assimilate back into Equestrian society. I would also point out you owe me a visit there yourself! My foals wish to see their ‘Auntie Glory’ again, though methinks that is more due to the toys and Cloudsdale cakes you bring them. You spoil them, you know!
—Fell Flight
Auntie’s prerogative, my dear sister. Auntie’s prerogative. As they lack grandparents, I feel that the duty to spoil them rotten falls to me. And I know you worry about their reception should you bring them to Cloudsdale, given how badly your own mixed pegasus and thestral heritage got you bullied as a foal, but as we now have gryphons and even an adolescent dragon or two living amongst us, I believe you might be pleasantly surprised.
It took but two minutes to throw our desperate plan into motion... which was quite fortunate, because two minutes was all we had.
Emptying the gear lockers, the forty of us who had sheltered there donned our protective masks and goggles as we smashed the safeties and deliberately threw open all the valves on the mixing tanks, causing additional alarms to go off as they began to release their liquids and multi-colored vapors, soon saturating the air around us and causing some coughing from a few who had not obtained a proper mask seal in their panic. Thus, when the Ravens finally breached the room on their third try—two teams of seven grey-dyed gryphons came charging in through a freshly-made hole in the ceiling as well as the entry door—they were immediately met with a surge of brightly-colored smoke we helped along with wind from our wings, forcing it into their eyes and lungs.
A single breath and the ones who initially entered were incapacitated, clawing at their eyes and staggering back, unable to see or strike. Most of their crossbow shots went wild as a few even vomited, though a scream told me at least one of my coworkers was hit. Recognizing the danger, they tried to withdraw but couldn’t see well enough to do so, a few swinging blindly with their swords to fend us off whilst the ones at the rear slipped back out the door to rinse out their eyes from a canteen and don their flight goggles. They then poured water on their scarves and wrapped them around their beaks, intent on completing their mission and visibly livid at the tactics we had just used against them; I didn’t need to know their language to understand they were swearing bloody vengeance upon us.
We’d bought ourselves time and a momentary advantage, but ‘twas certain if we did not make use of it immediately, it was going to disappear. My coworkers still stood frozen, but recognizing our lives now depended on whether we could seize the chance before us, I asked myself:
What would Fell Flight do?
With a silent prayer to Celestia, as well as an apology to my sister and herd were my next actions to get me killed—and what of our parents and other herdmates, working at different places throughout the factory? Were they safe?—I took flight and shot forward with another only half-formed plan, fearful that if I thought too much about it, I would lose my nerve. With thoughts of my sister steeling my resolve, I tackled the nearest Raven eagless in midair to her startled squawk, slamming her to the ground as I went for the sheathed knife I could just see on her belt. But she sensed my intention and pecked hard at me, one set of talons wrapping around my forehoof and digging in painfully and twisting it as she tried to throw me off her despite her inability to see or breathe, her other paw going for my throat.
And given just a few seconds, her training in unarmed combat meant she’d unquestionably succeed. ”Help me!” I begged my coworkers, who didn’t immediately move. “We won’t live unless we fight! Charge them!” I shouted, and that seemed to break the spell as at last, they did so, and within seconds twenty pegasus weather workers fell upon five choking Raven warriors and proceeded to pummel them beneath an onslaught of hooves and blunt items, soon rendering them unconscious or worse. We’d barely finished before their teammates reentered with their own improvised protective gear, firing crossbows and tossing in a pair of gems ahead of them within our midst.
”Scatter!” I called out in a panic as two of my coworkers took bolts to the chest and fell screaming or dead, my eyes going wide as I recognized the danger—Fell Flight had shown me the knife and a couple of (magically disarmed) gryphon-made explosive gems she’d taken off a raider she’d killed while rescuing a series of kidnapped earth pony families years earlier—so with adrenaline rushing through me I simply hefted and threw the beaten body of the first Raven on top of the nearest gem, which shredded it when it went off, sending blood and body parts flying everywhere but otherwise not harming us… except perchance psychologically as we were showered with blood. The second gem went off near several of my coworkers, peppering them with fragments and sending several to the floor injured.
Two could play at that game, however, as I went for the gem-filled belt pouches on another Raven’s fallen form, triggered one (Fell Flight had also shown me how it worked; you just pressed down on one end and then twisted it until it popped up) and tossed it towards the entrance. It turned out to be a shock gem as a series of crackling electric arcs went off close enough to cause my mane hairs to stand on end and snared the two Ravens outside; they simply didn’t see it coming through the smoke and their partially fogged goggles and fell unconscious to the ground, twitching hard.
‘Twas an enormous stroke of luck, I reflected later, that the first one I grabbed hadn’t been a smoke or flash gem, which wouldn’t have slowed them down much, but whether by fate, fortune or just sheer dumb luck, we’d somehow defeated the first Raven team. “Tie them up! And get their gems and weapons!” I directed, not sure how I’d ended up the leader—perhaps a little of your commanding manner did run in the family, Sister?—as I drew a sheathed Raven sword and tried to wield in my mouth, only to find it too heavy and clumsy, passing it to a stronger stallion. Their long knives were another matter, however, as I drew and took a few experimental swipes with one, wondering if I could kill.
I would get my answer all too soon as one of the unsecured gryphons began to move, and I panicked, rearing up and bringing the knife down as hard as I could into his back, repeatedly stabbing where I thought his heart might be. He screamed and tried to roll away but I did enough damage that he finally died, bleeding out on the ground before me.
It all happened so fast I had little chance to consider what I was doing, but afterwards I dropped the blade in shock as everypony stared at me, forced to remove my mask so I could throw up. The traumas of the day already taking their toll on me, I wanted nothing more than to just curl myself up into a ball at that moment and turn my mind off, faint dead away so I wouldn’t have to think about what I’d just done. For even if I survived that day, ‘twas no doubt in my mind I was going to see the moment I took a life in both my dreams and waking hours for the rest of my days.
But there was no time. There was no time, and there was still a second Raven team outside, threatening to come through the ceiling. I didn’t know why they hadn’t already until suddenly a dead gryphon body fell through the ceiling hole, her body impaled gruesomely on her own sword. I heard one or two more gryphon screams, then nothing more until a whirlwind formed over the hole in the ceiling, sucking out all the acidic fumes.
Expecting the worst, we immediately brandished our stolen weapons, but instead of another gryphon, a bloodied pegasus stallion flew in and looked around, holding a blade in his mouth and two borrowed belts of Raven throwing blades and gem pouches around his barrel. As his gleaming eyes immediately locked onto the beaten Raven forms below, I saw something approaching impressed in his gaze as he put the pieces together of what we’d done to save ourselves, a strange smile cracking his face. I knew who he was—we all did. Lieutenant Thunderbolt, mentor of Fell Flight, survivor of the Inland Shores massacre and hero of the Phoenix Fire operation; a pony who had declined all decoration for his deeds and had instead left the Corps afterwards to follow more peaceful pursuits.
We had no idea how woefully incomplete that version of events was then, but an education was soon to follow. “Defeated them with Rainbow fumes. I approve,” he informed us, then abruptly turned and threw a blade that found a stirring Raven, killing him instantly to our shock. “I cannot stay, but I will dispatch soldiers to this place as soon as I find them, and in the meantime I will be sending any rescued or wounded ponies here,” he informed us as his friend, Sergeant Virga led in a fresh procession of ponies from an adjacent building, the former now armed with blades of his own. “I suppose we will need at least a few prisoners and these will do. However…” To our horror, he methodically slashed the wingbase and lower limb tendons of each to cripple them, eliciting several shrieks and leaving me suddenly wondering who was the greater danger to us when I saw the icy look in his eyes...
A look that was shortly turned on me. “You,” he called to me, perchance recognizing from my bloodied blade beside me and trembling form what I’d just done. “Step forward,” he directed, and despite my state, his manner and tone was such that I obeyed instantly, as if I was one of his soldiers…
And perchance at that point, I was. “What is your name?” he asked me, his voice ungentle.
“M-Morning G-Glory…” I told him, my voice breaking.
He stared at me for a moment. “You are Fell Flight’s younger sister, are you not?” he asked me without a shred of sympathy, perchance recognizing me from the one time he’d visited our home.
“Y-Yes…” I told him, ashamed of myself, averting my eyes from his, understanding only then what my sister did and how unsuited I was for it. “B-but I am not her…”
In response, he then plucked the knife I’d used from the floor and inspected it. “‘Tis a good blade,” he told me, resheathing it and then offering it back to me. “And one that will serve you well. Do not hesitate to use it. Do not hesitate to kill. For this is war, and if you are to live, you must fight!” He shoved the blade back into my grasp when I didn’t immediately take it, then raised his voice for all us to hear.
“Heed my words and heed them well, fellow pegasi! As of this moment, you are soldiers, not civilians, and you have but two choices! You may lay down and die as the pacifist ponies of the Inland Shores settlements once did, refusing to even raise so much as a hoof in your own defense, or you can stand and fight as my disarmed soldiers did against the Lucavi there, exacting as high a price as possible and refusing to give up even in the face of impossible odds! Make your choice and make it quickly, for the gryphons intend to destroy this factory and slay all inside!” he said as more worker refugees arrived, some helping the wounded and others dragging salvaged rain clouds behind them.
Clouds he then made kneading motions into, darkening their surface as he somehow turned them into storm clouds, charging them with electricity. “If the Ravens return, use these to defend the entrance. We have more clouds outside and many more gryphons to slay! I ask all ponies willing and able to fight to join me, but know there are no guarantees of survival, either out there or in here!” he informed us bluntly. “Their numbers are vast and ours are presently few. So I ask for the brave and bold to come forth; for those ponies willing to lay down their lives for Cloudsdale and all Equestria to do so! Will any of you fight?” he asked as he stalked down the ragged line of my coworkers, but nopony immediately moved to do so, several looking away.
After a few seconds, he made a show of giving up. “‘Twould appear pegasi have gotten soft and forgotten their own history. I am disappointed but not surprised. So be it,” he sneered, turning on his wing to leave. “’Tis certain I will die, but I will fight them alone and kill as many as I can before falling.”
“W-wait!” I called after him. I was scared—terrified, even—but in the end, he was right: I was Fell Flight’s sister and I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing; not when she was likely fighting for her life far out on the frontier and after so many of my friends and coworkers had likely already been slain here. “I will fight!” I told him, wincing at my own breaking voice, stepping forward to present myself.
“And I…” a stallion stepped forth a second later, to gasps from his mares, brandishing a Raven scimitar in his mouth. “For my friends and for my herd!”
“If h-he’s fighting, we’re fighting!” his herdmates followed, perchance hoping to protect him.
“M-me too!” his friend spoke up.
“And me…” the youngest mare amongst us offered next.
With that, the dam broke, and most of my coworkers stepped up. “Much better…” Thunderbolt gave a thin smile. “Then our time is short, so listen and listen well…”
Over the next several minutes, Thunderbolt organized us into an improvised platoon of three squads, two of standard soldiers and one of scratch storm teams. Two of my coworkers had militia experience, so he made them squad leaders, gave us each an array of borrowed weapons and storm clouds and told us our main task was to defend cleared areas and support him in his work. I couldn’t fathom how he planned to take them all on himself, but there was something very scary in his eyes and manner that told me he could. Methinks that in the end, I was afraid not to obey him.
When we got outside, my guts clenched at the sights and sounds of battle. Smoke was rising from many buildings, several had already been engulfed in flames or destroyed, and worse, judging by all the bodies in the area, the Ravens had hit the cafeteria first for its concentration of workers at lunch, slaughtering them…
Meaning that having been assigned the latest lunch shift might have spared us. But what of my parents and siblings, who ate earlier…?
“Do you see what they intend, now?” Thunderbolt called back to us as he heard several choked sobs. “This is the fate they mean for all of us, and they have the numbers to do so!” he said, motioning around us. And indeed, we saw hundreds of gryphons orbiting the storm cloud factory and adjacent Corps base, as well as teams of ravens darting to and fro, several noticing us but not engaging us for our numbers, one calling into some kind of device. “Abandon all thoughts of peace and harmony. For here and now, they will not avail you!”
‘Wh-what should we do?” I asked—he’d made me the second squad leader given the ‘leadership’ I’d shown inside, for which I thought he was crazy; I had no idea what I was doing other than what Fell Flight had taught me once or twice when she’d come home on leave!
“What we do… is fight!” he announced as he grabbed an improvised storm cloud and triggered it, targeting a Raven team in flight. A bolt easily as powerful as any military grade one struck out and hit the formation dead center, killing two and sending the rest reeling from the force of the blast.
“Attack now while they’re dazed!” he ordered us, charging headlong for them, wielding his captured blade as skillfully as any Raven he fought, if not more. In truth, by the time we got there, he had slain most of them but two remained, so we swarmed them, killing both with the loss of only one, as the youngest mare of our group took a blade to the chest and was killed instantly.
Just like that, her life was ended. So young. So promising. Either out of fear or my own peer pressure, she had volunteered to fight, and for what…? I felt myself beginning to choke up, thinking again I couldn’t do this...
“Focus!” Thunderbolt called back, sensing our distress, his very voice putting steel in our spines. “We fight now, mourn later! Now again!” He all but snarled at us as he targeted a second nearby Raven group with his aerial artillery, this one grounded, and this time we followed close on the heels of his bolt, diving hard on them and reaching them before they could recover or take flight. Two got their crossbows up in time and one struck home, sending a bolt whistling past my ear and a second mare from my own squad falling from the sky with a wound to her shoulder that rendered her unable to fly.
Fortunately, she didn’t fall very far and landed in a cloud bank, which she quickly stained red and was pulled back inside the Rainbow Factory by those remaining under Virga’s direction. Blade in muzzle, I tackled one Raven and drove my knife into his chest as I did so, a feat I was only able to perform because the lightning strike left him partially paralyzed and unable to fight back. He also appeared to be deafened by the blood coming out his ears, leaving me wondering why Thunderbolt was hanging back this time and why he wasn’t just taking them out with lightning instead of sending us in…
Looking back, the answer was that he was trying to give us easy targets and get us used to fighting and killing as quickly as possible, and perchance he also knew that by being the triggerpony on the cloud, he was making himself a target and the center of enemy attention, giving us room to do our deadly work.
‘Twas only obvious in hindsight, however, as we dispatched the second dazed and deafened Raven group with the loss of two, leaving me wondering how long it would take before we were whittled down to nothing… and when I would be one of the casualties, only realizing after we were done that I’d taken a grazing sword strike to my flank. Whilst we completed our work, Thunderbolt and the rest of his improvised storm team opened up again on nearly a century of approaching gryphons, though the armor gleam told me that this group were Wind Knights, elite sky gryphon soldiers. Their armor was tough and tactics good; Thunderbolt and the other three teams knocked out a few with single bolts but he soon faced retaliation in the form of crossbow bolts, one of which found his foreleg, spearing right through it.
“Stay back!” he instructed us as he simply bit it off and extracted the bulk of the shaft with a pained grunt, ordering the rest of his team to keep firing as he recharged his cloud, making the kneading motion with his hooves again, ignoring both the incoming bolts and the blood dripping off his foreleg. “Storm teams! Leave!” he next directed as the gryphons got closer and two of his ‘gunners’ fell to crossbow bolts, sending them spiraling or outright plummeting to the ground. “Take cover and prepare to return on my signal!”
They hastened to obey, but not quite fast enough as the crossbow fire got steadily more accurate and two more Raven teams approached us from behind. On my own initiative, I directed us to intercept to buy time for whatever Thunderbolt was planning, shouting at the storm teams to cover us if they could.
I didn’t see what happened next, but I heard a crackling sound like an overcharged cloud, and suddenly there were a massive and unceasing series of rapid-fire booms, like continuous lightning. I looked back briefly to see he had thrown the cloud into the middle of the Knight formation after triggering it to discharge all its lightning at once, and it all but detonated in their midst, sending perchance two dozen gryphon Knights in close enough proximity to the cloud base below.
‘Twas a feat as transfixing as it was terrifying, but ‘twas also one he could not repeat. “Storm teams! Recover!” he directed but had no sooner began charging another cloud to attempt the attack again when it was struck by a magical beam from a trailing mage.
The cloud he was working with then exploded in lightning just like the one he’d used previously against the gryphons, and worse, the bolts struck the other stockpiled clouds we’d been using, setting them off as well. Within seconds, our storm teams were decimated as their weapons went off like gigantic shock gems, killing most of their crews and forcing the rest of us to take cover, even the Ravens rising to meet us, the bolts kicking up massive amounts of steam, smoke, or sulfuric blue flame depending on what they hit.
Just like that, we’d lost a third of our number and all our heavy weapons, to say nothing of our leader as a visibly burned Thunderbolt himself fell from the sky trailing smoke and sparks. He impacted the cloudtops softly but did not fall through—meaning his flight magic had not left him as he was still alive—for all the good it did us. Our leader was wounded, whilst the Ravens were nearly upon us with murder in their eyes, eager and able to avenge their losses. Even if they didn’t finish us, the approaching Knights certainly would; ‘twas unlikely any of us were going to live another two minutes.
With that realization, something changed in me. I knew we were dead, so I abandoned all hope for survival, and ‘twas a strangely liberating thing to have happen. For suddenly I had no fear left, and my entire life’s purpose was reduced to but one task...
Taking as many invading gryphons with me as I could.
But Thunderbolt wasn’t finished yet, and as it turned out, neither were we. He pulled himself up, scorched but alive and very angry. Raw electricity from the bolts he’d taken crackled all around him; I could be mistaken but I swore even his lightning bolt cutie mark was glowing. The cloud’s electric detonation should have slain him, and yet, when it cleared…
Far from slaying him, it had charged him up!
‘Twas only then that the true meaning of his lightning bolt cutie mark became clear as he simply reared up and flared his wings, pointed his hooves skyward and released his stored electricity in the form of a massive and jagged lightning bolt, which even at a distance raised the hair on my mane. With an animal scream from his throat and a crashing boom from the monstrously powerful bolt, it pierced the mage’s shield with a single shot, sending her to the ground; I knew she was dead when she fell right through the cloud surface.
Methinks I only realized at that moment Thunderbolt was what ponies call an elemental, possessing an affinity for a single force or element of nature. ‘Twas a rare talent even among unicorns, but he not only had it, he had clearly developed it to the point that he could use it and any cloud he got his wings on as a very effective weapon…
And as the gryphons would soon realize to their dismay, that included the very clouds underneath his hooves.
Sensing a charge building beneath my own, I withdrew the remains of the platoon out of range as lightning began arcing out like anvil crawlers along the cloud surface and then leaped upwards in dozens of bolts, spearing more Knights as they neared him, breaking up their formations and making them recoil from his attack en masse. He wasted little time after that before launching himself into the midst of their disrupted platoons, engaging the enemy all by himself and leaving me wondering what he needed us for. Were we just distraction or fodder to him? No, he’d used us to whittle down the odds and give him more freedom to do his deadly work, and perchance give us some confidence in ourselves along the way.
And so it went as he fought and slew half a century of gryphons one by one. A decapitation. A broken neck. A stab through the heart. A slashed throat. A crushed skull. A deflected lightning bolt turned back on its owner. Knights, Ravens, or Magus, it didn’t matter; he slew all who challenged him within moments, their attacks effortlessly parried, their defenses swatted aside. I took advantage of their panic and distraction to ambush a few gryphons with my remaining twenty ponies, even managing a few shots with a spare storm cloud I myself retrieved from the rainbow factory, splitting their attention when they could least afford it, now in a fight for their lives.
With half their force gone and realizing that engaging Thunderbolt in close combat was futile, the gryphons tried to spread out to engage him at range with explosive-tipped crossbows, but he gave them no chance, keeping in constant motion and effortlessly dodging their attacks; proving that pegasus agility had the advantage in close quarters. And when in desperation they charged him as one, he simply landed and stood still, and then as they got close, reared up and stomped downwards with both forehooves, causing lightning to again erupt from the cloudtop in every direction, striking down a half dozen more gryphons around him.
‘Twas a that point a surviving mage tried to attack him with fire instead of lightning, only for it to be batted aside by a gust of wind-generated wind right into a pair of ambushing Ravens, immolating them. Running out of options and in increasing desperation she used her most powerful wind spell, trying to pin him to the cloud surface with it. But he even turned that against her, using his flight magic to twist the gale into a funnel that then sucked hard at her, forcing her to use her power just to stay still… which no longer became an option as he forced the tornado towards her and finally pulled her inside it, slamming her into the building to stun her and then impaling her against the wall with a thrown sword.
Within minutes the first wave of gryphon soldiers was gone. Methinks he had accounted for nearly a century of troops all by himself, but was starting to get winded to say nothing of the damage he had taken from the lightning burns to the crossbow bolt. ‘Twas unlikely even he could survive the second wave we could see inbound, reinforcements dispatched from the siege of the Corps base… or perchance they had finished off the battalion there, freeing up more troops. In any event, they knew what was happening; they were approaching much more cautiously and Thunderbolt was now visibly exhausted, to say nothing of the rest of us. We thought we were once again doomed…
Until reinforcements of our own arrived from the other side of the city. But methinks, Captain, that ‘tis time for me to pass the quill, for that part of the story I cannot tell.
Indeed, my honorary niece and beloved Aunt in all but name to my own foals, but be assured there is somepony who can.
I commend you for your superb storytelling, Sky Sergeant, and marvel at Thunderbolt’s incredible ability to not just kill but inspire, to say nothing of the bravery you displayed that day. You were frightened beyond measure, and yet you overcame it to not only survive, but become the soldier Thunderbolt called you, a soldier that even your own sister respects greatly to this day.
I apologize for the unpleasant memories I’m sure this sparked, and I ask all readers to reflect that those who survived that day were those who fought, not fled. In the end, with the attack on our ancestral home, the Cloudsdale pegasi rediscovered their warrior heritage that day, and ‘twas something the gryphons would greatly rue.
—Firefly
Bravery is the capacity to perform properly even when scared half to death. — Omar Bradley
Stats
Page generated in 0.037 seconds
Total duration
1,007 users online
1,635,995 hits today, 2,004,447 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
Holy throne....
This is just a world of badass isn't it. Absolutely fantastic chapter.
Nice chapter. As always, I eagerly and impatiently await the next one.
Hooray, an update! Updates on this story truly are like little presents.
I have to say, as much as I find Thunderbolt to be a somewhat interesting character, him being able to win any fight, even killing entire platoons, with no problems really takes the tension out of the situation. He's basically a mary sue when it comes to combat. I would either tone him down a bit or introduce a gryphon who can take him on.
You also mentioned that you're trying to show that the Ravens are not that good in open battle. That doesn't really work when their opponent is Thunderbolt and not something like a normal group of soldiers.
Bad. Ass.
This looks like a good chapter to send out Linky and Twinkleshine. I just hope I can still do the routine. It's been awhile.
I dare might even call it 'fun', even as terrible as it is.
Not polite t' say it, but it's true. On some level, war is the ultimate game. The stakes are as high as they possibly can be and you don't get to do it all over if yeh fail. If yeh survive, you'll have friendships that will last and the knowledge you helped make a positive difference for your tribe. I kin ponies compare war to murder, but it isn't true. It's actually quite the opposite. To kill one of yehr own makes one's tribe weaker, but to kill your enemy spares lives and makes the group stronger.
Then why is it frowned upon in war to kill the healer?
Bleedin' heart hippies who love other tribes more than their own thought up that idea. Kill the healer first!
Yes Ma'am!
Never found any lovers online whilst killing the Horde. You may be onto something, Linky.
Aye, no bastard ever won a war by typing away at a keyboard, much less got any flank!
With hoof bump stocks for rapid-fire.
And scary gray camo to let the enemy know you mean business. Aye!
T'was only ultimately defeated by the efforts of a unicorn who seized the means of weather control from their central command center and lowered the cloud curtain suspended over Equestria, achieving lasting peace over the shattered land by becoming a goddess. And no, this isn't an accidental FoE reference. It is quite intentional.
If earth ponies were in the cloud makin' business yeh can believe we'd shape them more practically: make a shaped charge that contours with your muzzle. If it does, the bolts will hit your enemy. If it doesn't yehr gonnae be eating those bolts yehrself. Like a haymore mine.
As much as I'd really like to make fun of that, it actually makes a lot of sense. I'd totally try it myself, but I'm sure I'd fry myself trying to twist clouds into knots. We need a pegasus for our war panel. Who should we get?
Spicy!
Spicy!
Gryphons? That's nice. Dragons? Ehhh... Not so much. Send 'em back to Dragon Lands before they go crazy and destroy everythin'.
Linky, you're so racist!
Where's the lie, though? Remember when Spike got greedy and nearly wiped out Ponyville? There's a reason they live far away. If they didn't we'd have to kill them before they killed us. No offense, Spike.
No offense, I just think your kind is savage and shouldn't live near us, eh Linky?
Which is why you live in a nation run by and mostly inhabited by ponies, eh Twinkleshine? I don't hate what I can't see and ye can't love those who yeh aren't prepared to deal with yehrself.
Gryphons have their downsides too but you're okay with them.
And I'm prepared to live with them too, because I did. Admit it, you wouldn't live next to a dragon if he wasn't Spike. Yeh base yehr entire view of dragons on a single adolescent who's lived as a pony his entire life and yet he still takes pride in his dragon heritage and suffers bouts of greed. I've got a stereotype of dragons that is more or less accurate given numerous accounts and ye got a completely unprincipled stereotype based on wishful thinking. Which of us then is racist?
You are so not getting any for a week, racist!
Away an bile yer heid I mean, I'm sorry. Please, not an entire week!
It's like they weaponized yehr cooking, Twinkle!
Two weeks!
Oh bloody...
Nopony should have to fight their first battle this way. What a tragedy.
We owe our ancestors much for the land they delivered us. We are descended from heroes.
I hope you enjoy yehr newfound medic status. At least you've already thrown up once today. It won't be the last once yeh've smelled spilled blood by the pints.
Sir? Does this mean that Anne Margret is not coming?
Though history did not record their names, Private Joker and Private Snowball did a fantastic job. RIP gals.
[F]
Brilliant tactic and very true. Even a platoon of novices will direct fire on the biggest threat. Sometimes deception isn't the key to victory.
We're all fodder to a degree. Ponies forget this and end up jamming things up their coal bunkers to give their lives meaning. Death is a part of life and one cannot be separated from the other. The warrior then is one who has accepted the ultimate truth to life. To die for Princess and Province is to live forever.
Pfft. Weeb!
He really is something of a horror movie character. He just can't be stopped by anyone and has the electricity and pointy objects to kill everypony in his path! Good thing he was on our side.
Aye. And as good as he was, he still died in battle. No matter how good yeh are, death awaits. But he more than earned his legend in the end. Another good chapter. Total defeat at Cloudsdale would have been a deal-breaker for us in the war.
only for it to be batted aside by a gust of wind-generated wind
Wing generated?
Awesome
8548419
Haven’t heard that for a while!
8548732
Indeed it is. And thanks!
8548745
I’ll do my best to deliver! There’ll be at least one more new chapter this year.
8549097
Aw... how sweet.
It’s a present and it’s not even Heart’s Warming yet! Though that doesn’t stop the malls from already displaying decorations...
8549547
That word seems to be cropping up a lot in the comments on this chapter! But if anything or anypony earned it, it’s Thunderbolt here...
8549781
Fixed. And thanks!
8549185
And better yet, served with a heaping side of chicken! You know, Thunderbolt keeps packets of eleven herbs and spices in his flight instructor uniform pockets for occasions such as this...
Thunderbolt is a double-edged sword in that you never quite know what you’re going to get from engagement to engagement. If his bloodlust is up, he could turn on his own side at any time and right now, it’s uncertain if anyone, pony or gryphon could stop him. I will say this for now: there are individuals on both sides who could, but right now, Firefly isn’t one of them.
Fun fact--I consider Twilight a fire elemental from her one Rapidash scene in the series, and I play that up in Turnabout Storm and TLaTU.
8549425
Interesting perspective on Thunderbolt, if not entirely accurate. He’s not immortal or unbeatable. If you notice, he is taking damage here, and he’s nearly exhausted both his strength and his power by the end. He wouldn’t survive a second wave by himself, especially with the gryphons forewarned about what they were facing this time and having made plans to fight him (as you’ll shortly see). A Mary Sue? Though I try very hard to avoid characters like that, it may fit him here.
The thing about Thunderbolt is, he’s a double-edged sword. He’s almost as great a danger to his own side as the gryphons. If he completely loses it, there’s no guarantee he wouldn’t turn on his comrades or start killing them to get to the gryphons if they try to hold him back. So the better question to ask might be... is there anyone on the pony side who could control him, take him on or even take him out if he’s losing himself in bloodlust and turns on his own side? Answer: yes, but at this moment, Firefly couldn’t. Do the gryphons have someone? Yes, Kaval could, and Firefly isn’t currently a match for him either.
As for the Ravens, your point is taken. When I wrote that, I was worried that people were thinking the Ravens were being beaten too easily here given their purported abilities and tried to give an explanation, but perhaps the one comment from last chapter is the most valid that everyone is pretty much a meatshield next to Thunderbolt. Nevertheless, I will use the following chapter to try and make their weaknesses in open combat more clear. The question then becomes, what will they do to address these weaknesses? The gryphons are nothing if not adoptable.
8550493
The problem is that Thunderbolt's injuries seemingly came out of nowhere.
This is just one passage, but the entire chapter is like this. Thunderbolt is always described as either dodging and parrying attacks with absolutely no mention of him getting injured even once. But then, we get this.
We jump from him being uninjured to suddenly covered in wounds with no reference of where they actually came from. It's like you realized towards the end of the chapter that you can't have Thunderbolt win the entire siege by himself, so you had to come up with something to make it seem like his isn't as invincible as you made him out to be, even though it comes out of nowhere.
Also, I think you meant adaptable.
I have the slight impression that could be considered a war crime.
I really liked this chapter; it's good to see ponies finally fighting back, even if just civilians. This somewhat reminds me of Necropolis, by Dan Abnett.
The truth is that the Empire can't afford severe losses in this action, because their warriors are all veterans and elites. They are also currently facing not only the Corps, but potentially thousands of enraged civilians. The Prelate should have read Sun Tzu more carefully: you should never gave the enemy the chance to fight to the death. Better to leave an escape route unopposed and cut them down as they flee.
Ha Lighting Form.
8549739
I wouldn’t worry about it. Writing for those two is probably like riding a bike for you. You know them well, and they speak for you and through you. So let’s hear what they have to say...
I’m sure I don’t need to remind you of all ponies about Robert E. Lee’s quote saying that it’s good war is so terrible lest we grow too fond of it, Linky.
How about Horde chess?
Or put another way, there’s there’s no save points in war, and no do-overs. You die, that’s it and nothing will ever change that.
Well, there have been such times throughout history where killing your own weak and treasonous leader can make your side stronger, but point otherwise taken.
Realistically, if you want to defeat your enemy more quickly, yes. To quote another Civil War general, “war is cruelty and you cannot refine it.” Sherman waged total war as a means of breaking the south, and succeeded, destroying the better part of two states. He was the perfect complement to Grant; a master of maneuver and a man who knew how to apply force towards strategic objectives.
Got that right...
Well, there are a few drone pilots at this point that come close...
And don’t forget the automatic lightning bolts and assault clouds!
And of course, the chainsaw bayonet attachment for the cloud undersides... https://townhall.com/tipsheet/mattvespa/2017/11/08/usa-today-you-can-put-a-chainsaw-bayonet-on-an-ar15-rifle-or-how-the-media-is-a-total-joke-on-guns-n2406775
I’m sure that’s a reference, but I don’t know offhand what.
Damn right it’s intentional! I put it in for you this time...
A haymore mine. I love it.
Actually, you’re giving me an idea now... and you know how dangerous those are!
How about Flash Magus? He needs something to do and he’s certainly got plenty of tales and knowledge of battle tactics from times past...
I’ll just call you the Spice girls, then!
One thing that’s been bugging me from Feathered Heart (aside from no updates in well over a year) was that the Cloven apparently corrupted dragons, but none have been seen on the attack. I’d love to see marines pop a gem containing a stinger missile to use against them! They’re heat-seeking and should be able to home on a dragon nicely...
thatsracist.gif
Well, a couple seasons ago I don’t think he’d’ve taken much offense considering what happened and his own first ugly experience with dragon culture when he followed the great migration (I hated that episode for making dragons utterly irredeemable). But I think he’d care more now having met Ember. Garble is just a teenage jerk even if he is in his sixties as this point.
The same could be said for ponies, gryphons, or any race you can name. The gryphons said to themselves, “remember when Luna went insane and nearly wiped out the world? What if Celestia did so too?”
That’s the point I was about to make.
Though I can’t speak for Twinkleshine, I don’t think that’s a given, and I don’t think it’s right to draw conclusions from a sample group of one.
Having been on the wrong side of way too many stereotypes that were supposedly ‘more or less’ accurate’--conservative, gay, furry, gun-lover, Republican (yes, many of these are contradictory, but trust me; that didn’t stop them!)--that argument doesn’t fly with me. Ultimately, you have to judge people as people. Now granted, if I don’t know you and all I have to go on at first are looks and culture, then, yes, I’ll apply that until I learn differently. If I see a black kid walking down the street with a bunch of bling and his pants halfway to his ankles, I’m going to make some very unflattering assumptions and they’ll probably be accurate. However, it’s still a mistake to apply his one example to all.
But... but... that’s too cruel!
Better dust off your cooler, Linky! You’re gonna need it for a while!
You went *there*, Linky.
There’s no hope for you now!
Tragic, yes, but you rarely get to choose the time and manner in which it happens. Remember how Firefly or Windshear got thrown right into the fire and weren’t prepared for their first battle when it happened? It’s even worse for civilians because they’re not even remotely ready for something like this, forced to become soldiers when they’re anything but.
Word. And we’d do well to respect and revere them instead of trying to tear them down over standards that didn’t even remotely apply in their days. It was a different world, with different rules, and you can’t judge them by the rules of the modern day.
That’s not the worst of the smells you have to deal with on a battlefield. Try ruptured guts or voided bowels.
She’s not?!? That’s even worse than not getting the cloud creole!
So many unsung heroes that day. Though it’s hard to say who would have been more inspiring in this situation, Thunderbolt, or R Lee Emrey...
[F]
Sometimes all it takes is simple in-your-face application of brute force. One of Gaius’ faults was that he tried to be too cute and clever with his plans and forgot that the simpler strategies can be best.
How very Spartan. But you’re right--it’s not usually how we die that defines us, but how we live, and those who live the best and fullest are the ones that accept that truth and are not ultimately afraid to die. Morning Glory reached that point towards the end of this chapter, and ironically, it was accepting the likelihood of death that gave her the will to live and fight. She survived in large measure because of that. She’ll never be Fell Flight’s equal, but she has the makings of a good soldier. Certainly, she’s a good Aunt!
As future chapters will show, there were times he really wasn’t...
Indeed. The war could have been in large measure lost right here, and even at the end of this chapter, Thunderbolt has only accounted for about seven percent of the attacking force. Not even he can win this alone. Ultimately, Cloudsdale must rise up in its own defense... but will they...?
8550540
I see. Well then, I have two pieces of advice for you. First, if you're going to suggest someone is engaging in sloppy writing, you'd be well-advised to make sure you're not guilty of sloppy reading.
Incorrect. There were two places in the chapter were it was clearly shown Thunderbolt got hurt:
In those two passages--which I have not altered since release--he took a crossbow bolt to the forearm and a cloud exploded in his face, badly burning him. Thunderbolt is a first-class badass, and an even more deadly (to say nothing of unstable) warrior than Firefly to start, but he is not invincible nor did I ever intend him to be. He will be the bane of the gryphons in the months to come, but not even he can win a fight against a thousand soldiers by himself.
He's wounded; he's lost his storm clouds and half his support team. For all he did in this chapter and last, he's only taken out directly or indirectly about seventy gryphons, meaning the gryphons haven't even lost a tenth of their attacking force yet. They have plenty more to throw against him and you can bet the gryphons of the second wave are forewarned and will try something much different against him other than brute force. So if he doesn't get help soon, the gryphons may lose another few dozen soldiers but will assuredly kill him. The next chapter will tell of how that help arrived.
In response to your post, I will make some changes to the chapter this weekend to show a few more points where he takes a hit and make it clear he's starting to weaken, but my second piece of advice to you is to not make assumptions about what an author was thinking or why they did stuff. Because such assumptions are usually going to be wrong, and they're always going to annoy the author.
My purpose in this chapter was twofold: to showcase Thunderbolt's full range of abilities, and give some sense of how the surviving weather factory workers saved themselves and finally began to fight back. In this, I think the chapter succeeds quite well. Feel free to criticize what you feel doesn't work, but mind your tone and be sure of what you're saying first and try to note the good along with the bad. You'll find authors a lot more willing to listen to you if you do so.
8556841
Ah, I apologize about missing those two points about the crossbows. As for the lighting cloud, I was confused about that as he was able to absorb energy from the cloud, so I was unsure as to whether or not if he was actually injured. That just leaves the blade wounds, though I might have missed that as well.
Although my criticism of Thunderbolt's extreme strength hasn't lessened, I will make sure to pay far more attention next time.
Again, I want to express my most sincere apologies as my comment was completely undeserved. It was written very early in the morning and I hadn't gotten any sleep the night before (personal issues). I can assure you, it won't happen again.
good job with this story. can't wait for more!
An excellent story, and one I have come to place in my favorites to be alerted of new passages. There are times when I do wish the banter would give away less of how the future events play out, but it oddly fits in a unique style of story telling and the characters being excessively theatrical in their messages and writing fit in as if truly from another era where theatrics and warrior peotry are the norm. It's sometimes jarring or awkward to take seriously, but I've come to respect it in it's integrity of keeping in line with the theme of an olden time epic where nobilty and honor is exaggerated into a show dispite it's impractical nature.
8556841
the biggest issie I have with thunderbolt is that where most rage beserkers would become sloppy, impulsive fighters, he just magically gets super skills with no special training or intense combat regimens that would give him his hightened reflexes, abnormal speed, indomitable endurance, and the ability to shrug off seemingly fatal wounds. It is, by a bit of a stretch of imagination, that his abilities are supernatural, but it's more heavily attributed to him being an angry sociopath rather than his magical elemental abilities which could partially be blamed for his speed and lack of pain response through a few mental gymnastics. He's not a hopeless mary sue, just needs a bit more visibility on his limitations rather than vague fears of what he "might" do. Still, it is an epic, even if written as if a historically accurate one, and some crazy powerful characters are bound to happen. They just are hard to relate to without equally depicted flaws.
More things like his callous batting aside of hostages in the way, directing forces in suicidal defenses or attacks to give him opportunities to cut his way through the distracted flanks and reposition to kill them once they've slaughtered or captured his forces now thay he's in a better position to cause ,ore casualties on the long run. And even examples of his elemental power having visible effects on his body passively such as static charged hairs, twitchy movements, shivers/shakes while otherwise still (also a sign of PTSD) and possibly nerve damage preventing him from noticing certain sensations such as light touches or (as already displayed somewhat) wounds.
Hope this gives you ideas on how to better convey whatever traits you want him to have.
Other PTSD/psychosis symptoms: flashbacks/delusions (whether characterized by a glassy eyed daze or sudden outbursts in unwarranted situations/overreactions to triggering elements), spontaneous depression/anxiety/rage (not usually all at once but occasionally one leading to another), lack of focus/easily distracted, lack of interest/general apathy towards self and others, unexplained shivers/shakes/twitches which are largely uncontrollable.
i like it so far hope for more chapters soon im almost cought up
I like Morning Glory's account and it's clear that the pegasi will swear terrible retribution for these events. The gryphons start the war by committing war crimes which makes the hatred towards them very strong and dangerous to both sides.
9437983
True. You’ll see what effects this attack has going forward before too long. Nevertheless, they had to launch it and knock out the weather factory to have any chance of winning the war.
"They drew first blood"
Thunderbolt is an odd mix of Rambo and the Punisher.
In a good way.
11177714
Thanks. And pretty much, given he combines with Rambo’s effortless ability to kill with the Punisher’s hatred for
criminalsgryphons. I’ve had occasional complaints that he’s too OP, but events at the end of the second book of this volume should prove that wrong. There are absolutely gryphons (and ponies!) who could take him. More than one on both sides, in fact.This entire chapter the moment the Raven breached the door:
11242664
This entire chapter the moment the Raven breached the door:
img.youtube.com/vi/U3UQCiNNEsY/mqdefault.jpg
Exactly!
That’s a good soundtrack.
In the Rainbow factory!
Where your fears and horrors come true!
In the Rainbow Factory!
Where not a single soul gets through!
And then 900 years later after a terrible war, the enclave returned! XP joking. Mostly probably. Maybe