The Red Vengeance

by KaiserVanBeackmarck

2145 17/09/10127

In my dreams, I was in the temple of Boreas, looking down line after line of Lake City guardsmen. They all carried banners with Heavenly Snow’s face on it, the mere sight of which made me furious. The prince himself was sitting on a throne, hooves on the Griffonheim Crown, a smug grin plastered across his face. He barked, “BRING ME GROVER!”
A pony dragged a ragged, torn figure out from behind a column and my heart sank. Kaiser Grover II. He never fled the city. He was captured by these invaders. Some threw tomatoes and others threw rocks. Throughout the entire onslaught he stood straight and proud, not uttering a word. Heavenly Snow whipped him several times, and then yelled,”GRIFFON! HAND THE CROWN TO ME NOW!” Grover ignored him entirely, not even blinking. Judging from Heavenly Snow’s furious glare, he had resisted for a long time.

He screeched, “GAH! BRING OUT THE OTHER ONE!” A pony dragged forwards a smaller griffon, with small glasses. His big blue eyes were welling with tears, and he looked around with stark terror. Heavenly snow smiled and I gasped. Not just Grover II, but Grover VI as well? Heavenly Snow took this well, and began rapidly brutalising the young griff with the whip. Each lash tore through his flesh and he cried in pain, each louder than the last.

Grover II finally gave in once his great great grandson collapsed sobbing, whipmarks covering his back. “FINE, YA HOOFED SHIT! JUST STOP KILLIN MY DESCENDANT, YA GREASED FUCK!”

Heavenly Snow smiled evilly once more. “Then we begin now.”

I awoke with a shock, screaming loudly. Then I realised that I could see from my left eye again. Only I saw everything greyed, but better than nothing. I didn’t take any time to grab my gear and yell into the radio,”ALL FORCES, ARM UP!” The poor medic next to me had fainted from shock, but I ignored him and ran to the front of the station. The sky was star spangled, lit by the odd house fire or bonfire, and provided us with decent vision. Slowly, the rest of the partisian horde united before me, at the front of the plaza. From what I saw, the majority was alive, but I assumed at least a few thousand had died.

Raising my arm, I screamed, “WE HAVE SUCCEEDED THE FIRST HALF OF OUR PLAN, THEY HAVEN’T FOUND US YET! NOW WE STRIKE BEFORE THEY STRIKE US! FUR KAISER UNT VATERLAND!” The griffons echoed my cry with passion, not noticing as I collapsed, smashing into the floor.

The medic shook his head and said, “Sir, not to be a thorn in ya claw, but yer blood level fallen so yeah… You lose any more, you die.”

I staggered up, and uttered, “Piss off, mediwings. I ain’t gonna let that happen. I have to take Ebonwing’s place and lead the Griffinheim Liberation Army!” I ran forwards as the force behind me followed. Almost instantly, we encountered trouble. The Lake City forces knew where we were, just didn’t engage us. They had fortified everything around, so as not to waste ponies trying to flush us out. And they had everything. Sandbags, anti-tank guns, anti aircraft, and artillery. The moment we had the bulk of our forces in their sight, they let rip with Maarite hellfire. I watched as griff after griff fell, tanks exploding and aircraft falling. But even these losses could not faze my fury. I had my barrel spun up and firing back, the battlecry “FUR KAISER UNT VATERLAND!” already spewing from my maw.
We fired back, despite the constant anguished cries of loyal griffons falling, our rifles making our final dying remarks to them. The tank I stood atop fired, and its shell fragmented their central artillery, paving a path for the infantry to rip through. I leaped off, ducking under a shell, and lead the spearing. I leaped over their bullets, sandbags and corpses, sword in hand as soon as I landed. A poor youngster, probably drafted attempted to load his saddle blaster, and desperately failed. Being a humane griff, I clonked him over the head and turned towards the immediate threats. A bullet flew towards me, grazing my beak, so I beheaded the pony who launched it. Now the rest of the revolutionaries were pouring in, beginning to rend the defenders. Suddenly, a grenade, primed and ready arced towards me, so I did the oldest trick in the book: hit the damn thing away. Swinging readily, my greatsword sent it straight into a window, where a sniper rifle poked out. The outer wall of the house ruptured, spraying masonry all over the street, the sniper annihilated. I smiled grimly, as a fine bloody shower covered us in crimson. I then didn’t hesitate to hack through another pony’s legs, causing them to fall down, crippled. I left them at the mercy of the rest of the corps as I began to clear out the remainder of their guns and sandbags. Soon, we were running forwards again, until we encountered hailing fire from the windows overlooking the street.

I yelled, “FUCKING COWARDS, GET OUT AND FIGHT!” Bullets continued to fly, proving their cowardice. And at the same time, a group of Lake City tanks rounded the corner to attack us.

I called out, “FORCE SPLIT! HALF FORCE THEM OUT, HALF WITH ME!” They were efficient, half of our forces turning to face the incoming firestorm and some rushing into the buildings, the rest with me, marching down the Kaiserstraße towards the Palace and Heavenly Snow. As we continued, planes thundered overhead, roaring their fury in storms of lead against each other. Suddenly, one thundered overhead, and pegasi, an entire Nimbusian squadron leaped out. It seemed that the rest of the River Coalition had gotten word of our shenanigans in this city. I raised my gun and let fly at the diving pegasi. Blood flew out, and some of the paratroops lost formation overhead in attempts to avoid my fire. Gore splattered across my chest, but I continued my barrage. Blood continued to rain onto me, as more and more lost their lives to my gun. Finally, the surviving ponies landed, their numbers shredded by my lead storm, to be faced by my kinsmen’s bayonets and machine guns. I turned to face another barrage of shells, fired by another tank force that had rounded a corner. Ducking under, I tore a grenade from my pocket and lobbed it at the panzer, before charging onwards, ignoring the fate of the tanks as my own panzers turned to face them. I then reached the mound’s peak, to see the Griffking river crawling on, and the mass fortifications in the middle of the Kaiserstraße Bridge. The moment they saw us, they gave no quarter, their guns screaming bloody murder, mowing unprepared griffs down all over, their uniforms shredded by the crossfire. I survived, only a few lucky grazes to the shoulder and flank, my uniform now doused in my comrades’ blood. Brothers and sisters who had been serving nobly for Griffonia falling, knew what they had sworn for, but still their deaths rang true on me. I decided to do the dishonourable and attempt to force through them the horde their way. Unsheathing my sword, I wove through the tank battle, splitting a door open and running inside, already preparing a grenade in hand as I ascended the staircase to the upper floor. Barging through another door into a dilapidated child’s room, I reached to throw, and unleashed straight at them. I watched as the small grey cylinder glided towards them, as a pony leaped out from behind the barricade, hooves out to knock it away, and as both the pony and the grenade plummeted into the Griffking and the blast of fury and water rising up. I reached for another and realised I’d exhausted my stock except for my charges, which were needed for the endgame. And that my stay was noticed, their machinegunner angling to take the building down. I dashed out a moment before the wall was stormed by blizzards of lead. And the moment I reached for my flask of water, one of their unicorns bust through the thin wall between houses, saddleside rifle loaded and aimed straight for my skull. There’d be no death defying this time, just death unless I pulled a miracle. And so I tried. My helmet had deflected shots before, but not at this range. Well either way I’d die so I may as well take this gamble. As the pony fired. I threw my helm and unsheathed my sword to finish him. I watched as the bullet hit the side and sparked off, allowing me to swing around and behead the fool. As I donned my helmet once more, I noticed the fine enchanting magic glow around it. Of course, being a Knight of Arcturius, I’d get this level of gear. But I had no time to thank the Magikorps, as a battle needed to be won. Maybe the solution was for us to fly. They only had two machine guns, the rest were anti-tank or artillery, neither which could handle an aerial assault easily. So I settled it. Dashing back outside, their fate had been decided. Tank shells lay wrecked and griffons lay dying alongside ponies who had been fighting moments ago. But we had survived. I yelled “LISTEN UP! I HAVE A PLAN! WE FLY OVER THE EMBARKMENT! PANZERS FOCUS ON OTHER REGIONS IN THE CITY! THEY HAVE NO ANTI AIR GUNS AND ALL THEIR FIGHTERS ARE DECENTRALISED TRYING TO HUNT OURS! ONWARDS!” To show how certain I was on this plan, I was first to take off. Seeing their commander lead, the rest followed me into hell. The moment we began to move and leap off the hill, the embarkment opened fire with their machineguns, and the artillery struggling to hit us as we wove through the bombardment. But then they fired off an unprecedented attack. All along the Kaiserstraße, artilleries fired weighted nets, catching many of my soldiers off guard. I managed to avoid capture, alongside Wilhelm and several other elites, but the majority of the fighters were dragged down into the Griffking or into furious Lake City regiments. What remained landed across the river and was immediately challenged by the River Coalition’s furious hordes. I myself had my gun revved up and burning through clips, but others fell fast. But we had little chances of surviving this encounter. They had us 20:1, and had cover fire from artillery and snipers. Yet I still fought, even as my fellow knights fell one by one, until Wilhelm and I were the only griffs left standing. When my gun ran out of ammo, I unsheathed my sword and started hacking and slashing, paying no attention to the bullets ripping my bloody garb to shreds. Ponies and unicorns, grenadiers, heavies and mages all fell. A medic charged me, a needle in mouth, and a needle-gun in saddleside, needles flying. I raised my minigun to block, and split open his chest with a lash. Two twin Nimbusians charged me in the old fashioned lancer style, a bad move. I grabbed one, as the other impaled me in the gut, so I sliced both of their hooves out before vaulting over to halve them. A fellow miniguning pony charged me, his gun blaring lead at me. I leaped sideways, keeping flat against the ground so the corpse mounds could help cover my passage, his bullets embedding themselves in the dead flesh. Once arcing around, I leaped over and slammed my sword into his skull, a fatal blow. Now every last one of them had died, and I now stood alone, surrounded by mutilated corpses. Even Wilhelm had backed away from my gore splattered form, terrified by my furious form. Suddenly, the world tilted and I collapsed once more, lapsing into dreams.

Author's Note:

Mediwings or Medigriff: A nickname for griffons serving in the Medikorps or a griffon who excels in healing in general. Usually only soldiers.
Magikorps: A side corp of the engineers corps that serves as enchanting newly made equipment for brigades or commanders.