• Published 11th Nov 2020
  • 310 Views, 11 Comments

Tales from the Rift - Fonzie



A group of stranded tourists listen to a strange Pony's tales of how they'll die, or do they?

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The Red Vengeance

Author's Note:

this story is 8 chapters long, that's how desperate I've become.

THE RED VENGEANCE

Story by: KaiserVanBeackmarck

In the sewers, we hid, out of the sight of the Lake City forces that had conquered the city just over a week ago. Grover II, who had only seven years ago defeated Gabriella Eagleclaw and united the Herzlands, was nowhere to be seen after the battle and we could only hope he had escaped the carnage. I was one of the Knights of Arcturius, Otto van Beakmarck, and I had failed my one job. PROTECT THE KAISER. I smashed my head into the wall, as hard as I could, into the dent I had made from all of these rammings.

“OI!” A voice got my attention. “Otto, it aint time fer crammin anymore! We got tha barstard’s plans and Ebonwing given us tha sign we want!” I looked up in shock. Ebonwing had claimed any attempted liberation without Imperial support would be uselesss. But something had changed the old griff’s mind. I looked at the messenger. My long time friend Wilhelm Wiedergriff. He was the captain of the Yalish guard, and together we often joked he was descended from Borean himself.

I reached out and took his claws, uttering, “Well bout time we did something. I’ve nearly smashed me head flat in boredom!” He led me to a place we all knew, the Panic Room. It was a small hall underneath the Palace of Griffinheim, as a bunker where the Kaiser could hide and from there, escape swiftly to the County of Bronzehill. But of right now, it was the headquarters of the Griffinheim Liberation Army, or GLA. Nogriff knew why we chose that name, there already being a GLA down south, but hey, they couldn’t do nothing.

“Alright listen up, ya lazy rags!” Erich Ebonwing’s loud voice echoed throughout the chamber, to the ninety four thousand odd griffons crammed into the hall and the adjoining tunnels. “Boreas ‘imself appaears to be with us, as earlier this mornin’ I got a gift from tha Diamond Dogs. “ He raised a contraption, a few wires coming out of a silver box the size of my fist. Engraved on the side was a skull and crossbones. “Three dozen of these beauties. Concession charges, powerful enough to knock down a panzer in one blast.” We gasped, as one. How Ignatius was able to spare so many, we didn’t have any idea. Perhaps Boreas himself had given them to them. “And ter further add to our blessin’s, Heavenly Snow himself, is gonna be comin over fer tha coronation at sundown today. If we can knock his block off, then we can call this li’l clash a victory. Ok, here’s how it goes down.” He wheeled over a chalkboard with a map of Griffinheim pinned to it. “We’s gonna fracture into three groups. Group A, yer job is seize control of tha Greifwagen Industrials HQ here,” He stabbed a part of the map with a dagger before continuing, “Group B, get a hold on Grover V Station to call somegriff to help, I’d wager even that southern bastard Beakolini would aid us against our ancestral enemy,” He put another dagger into the board, before finishing, “And finally, Group C, yer job is to take back the Wiedergriff Airport fer their fighter and bomber surplus to get in the air. Then, we can unite ter stomp these pony thieves outta the Herzlands. BUT!” His voice echoed like a whip, startling everygriff to attention. “There is another matter, where these come in.” He waved the charges in the air. “When Snow is inaugurated and sworn in, he must do it in Boreas’ presence. He will journey to the temple here.” His last dagger was flung into the map, next to the palace.

I gasped and uttered, “You mean…”

Erich got wind of it and confirmed my fears. “Yes. We gonna blow it up.” This caused a massive collective gasp from the horde of assembled partisians. The temple had been built during Grover I’s regime and had stood since from the plains around. Even when Grover had led Yale to take it back, he had demanded no damage was to be done to it on threat of death. To destroy it would mean destroying our history. “I know what y’all are thinking. I’m mad. But this is war. And a PONY is aboud to sit on THE GRIFFINHEIM THRONE! You morons figure out which one is worse. Some complete MADPONY sitting on OUR throne and declaring himself KAISER of GRIFFONIA or a little piece of our history that’ll probably be destroyed by said PONY KAISER!”

When he put it like that nogriff had any complaints. He then raised his rifle and screamed, “FUR KAISER UNT VATERLAND!” Everygriff echoed the cry, raising ther battered service rifles, shaking the piping and rafters with the warcry. I raised my minigun, a trophy taken from a fallen Imperial Fighter and remodified to be handheld, and echoed the cry. Immediately we fell out, to go to the areas Ebonwing had pointed out on the map.


Half an hour later, I was waiting under the Greifswagen Industries HQ for the signal we needed, an armed force of thirty thousand griffs behind me, the remains of the Imperial Panzerkorps and Engineerkorps, whoever could run a tank well. I could feel the tension in the air. Nogriff spoke, but it was there. We were outnumbered heavily. When they had fought us in the streets the first time, they had used over 2 million ponies to charge our lines, and they could have brought reinforcements since then. They had the advantage of the entire Heavenly Airforce behind them alongside the entire RIVERLANDS. But we had a knowledge of every back street and pass in this town, a memory of how to get around without using the main roads. Yet it was a massive chance. These events almost always failed. The Republican uprising in Aquilea had been stamped out by the Discret family easily, the Olenian Freedom Army had been crushed within hours, and Rosewing and Sunglider’s bandit uprising was halted in its tracks by Alex Kemesari. We could just end a footnote in the Historica Griffonia, as another failed stand of a horde of madgriffs, torn asunder by the new Chosen of Boreas. A buzzing on the radio disagreed. I grabbed the receiver and said, “Squad A primed, commander.”

Over the static, I heard Ebonwing grunt and call, “Orright, Otto, ya got permission. Give ‘em tartarus fer me.”

I saluted and yelled, “TEN HUT GRIFFONS, WE MOVIN OUT NOW! SHOW THEM PONES WHY WE SCOURGED THEM IN THE CRUSADES! SHOW THEM THE GRIFFONIAN FURY!” I evoked a resounding roar from the horde, a good sign of a blood hungry mob. I spread my wings and shot out through the maintenance shaft. And boy, did I pick a bad time. I ploughed straight into a group of riverpony guards, and they were shocked. Before they could speak, I had my gun revving up and a storm of lead ripping them to pieces. I tore though my belt until they were entirely minced before me before calling, “CLEAR!” Hearing my signal, the rest of the soldiers clambered out the shaft, Wilhelm at the head. Spreading out like water in a pot, they scattered to assert dominance over the street front while most entered the Greifswagen Industrial to scrounge whatever they could get. I stayed outside, to make sure noponies could sneak upon us. Suddenly, machine gun blasts disturbed the peace, split by Hertzlander war cries. We’d engaged the foe successfully. Now we just had to finish the blow. Suddenly, Wilhelm yelled, “Oh holy BOREAS LOOK AT THIS!”

I called back, “What is it?”

He responded, “SO. MANY. TANKS!”
I smiled in joy. We had the big guns now.
A few moments later, we had our panzers up and running again, hundreds of them, older models and experimental panzers side by side, even the bashed up rust bucket Grover VI had crashed all those years ago. We were ready.

I climbed atop one of the heavy tanks and pointed forwards, and screamed, “NOW FIGHT!”

And ten thousand panzers reared up for war. Immediately, that caused far too much unwanted attention. A corp of ponies rounded the corner, rifles at the ready, but they did not expect the return of the Imperial armoured corps. Immediately and hopelessly, they opened fire on us. And so three of ours fired back, devouring them in a corona of flame. I heard the exhilaration of being inside a panzer from so many of the corps. Now we had to ride to Grover V Station to aid Group B, at the end of the Kaiserstraße and our main road. I pointed and commanded, “ON TO GROVER V STATION!” The moment we rounded the corner, we realised our shells had not gone unnoticed. A platoon of ponies had prepared a motorised anti tank gun and was ready for our advance. Instantly, the shell inside was catapulted straight down the line towards us. I had enough time to jump as the shell made contact with the tank I had been atop. Immediately, all the griffons inside were incinerated by the fury of the blast. I hit the cobbles hard, part of my wing snapping and my leg getting slashed by the shards of a destroyed window. Staggering to my claws, I hefted my gun to fire, but was met by a ready barrage of lead from a machine gun beside the anti tank gun. Swearing, I ducked around the corner to out wait them. The moment the gunners changed their angle of fire, I leaped out, gun spaying death at their entrenchment. I saw three of their gunners get torn by my barrage, falling with crimson rupturing from their heads, and more skinned and marked by them. My blast a distraction, one of the tanks used it to blast their big gun to annihilate it. I watched as burning, screaming ponies scattered from the fortifications, feeling cold joy as they stopped running, the flames cutting their petty screams short. Schadenfreule, the Cloudburians called this joy of a foe’s demise. Now I leaped atop the battered tank Grover crashed, and called, “ADVANCE!” Once more, we charged on, following the Äußerestraße towards the Station. Then I heard the noise we dreaded, the sound of roaring engines that only fighters or bombers had. I said, “Unknown aircraft approaching griffs, be on guard.” Then they passed over the buildings and we saw what we feared. The Lake City insignia on the underside. They opened fire on our brigade, none of us bringing anything to fend them off. So I decided to do what would carve my name as one of history’s most insane griffons.

Spreading my wings, I leaped up. Since they flew at such low altitude, it took only two flaps to launch me to their height. The lead fighter had little time to gasp as I landed on his windshield, minigun revved up. Instantly, his rear gunner tried to move against me, but I had my gun firing already. The pilot went down fast, bullets tearing him apart, followed by the gunner. Now I stood further up as the plane began to dive without a pilot, aiming at the other pilots’ proppelers. They all fired at me, and it was a race between lead. Mine began to impact first, causing the bomber to explode and dive towards the buildings. Then two flanking fighters took the storm to the front, erupting in flames. Then it was my turn to face the onslaught. I ducked, to minimize the number of bullets that collided with me. They all pinged overhead, some glancing off the spiked helmet and one clipping shoulder. Standing up, I lept of the failing plane, landing on a several story house to observe the carnage around the city. The fighter battle hadn’t taken me very far, I could still see the Äußerestraße where Wilhelm was leading the tanks around towards the besieged station. I then turned towards the hill where the Palace of Griffinheim stood. All around it, was carnage. Apparently not every team focused on seizing the airport or station, or other partisans had seen a battle and decided to fling themselves into the fray. The manors lining the Kaiserstraße were aflame, and planes were arcing slowly around the hill, occasionally bursting volleys of gunfire on unfortunate soldiers below. Columns of smoke rose all over town, and some actual fires leaped across building roofs in some spots. The forces upon the Griffking had blasted a bridge to pieces and I could see forces converging on another one. Tanks had been dispatched from the central to attempt to force our partisans from the center of town, but from the specks running to and fro, I could assume they were doing pathetically. Now I decided to lead the main goal, bringing down the temple of Boreas on Heavenly Snow. I leaped down, and stupidly landed on another Lake City group. They took far too little time to notice me, meaning I couldn’t ready my gun. So I went to plan B. “It’s the one who nearly killed Westerly! The KNIGHT!” The captain screamed, waving his hoof at me. I drew a greatsword, freshly sharpened and readied it. The captain stifled a laugh and snickered, “A SWORD!? What’s he gonna do against guns? POKE-” Suddenly, his head rolled off his neck, a clean split through his neck as I lowered my sword. They stood there in shock for a moment before opening fire on me.

I thought, “Sword-fighting, don’t fail me now.” I felt bullets rip my shoulder and chest, each accompanied with a flare of pain. But the adrenaline coursing though my body blunted the agony as I swung. The first hack cut a deep hack through a young mare’s chest, killing him instantly. Another bullet pierced my leg, causing me to tip. “Shoot.” I thought as I hit the ground hard, and the ponies advanced for the kill. But I never was going to die without a fight. Again, I lashed towards them, cutting two hooves off and skinning a third. Then a lucky snipe hit me, zooming under my helmet and straight into my left eye. I had enough time to utter, “Ah. No.” before the pain hit me. It slammed into me like a heavy tank, causing me to spasm and wracking my good eye. Carving on through the blindness, I lashed out at everything that I could vaguely see with my good eye. Everything was doused in red, dark crimson blotches marking the presence of something else. As I swung and slashed, shape after shape collapsed, until another something entered and shot the further away ones dead.

As my adrenaline burned away, I heard a famillar voice, that of Ebonwing. “Oh my, he’s taken a nasty one to the eye! Medic, MEDIC!”


For the next hour, I tilted between conciousness and unconcious, seeing griffs rushing around me and occasionally injecting me with something. Eventually, somegriff waved smelling salts at me, and I bolted upright. I felt bad, still burned out, and now half my world was black as Maar’s embrace. I looked around and saw a medic, Rector Mikusian in her torn robes, and Ebonwing, yelling into a radio. I then remembered my job. I sat up and screamed, “CHARGES!”
Ebonwing shook his head at me and said, “Sorry, yer in no fightin’ state now. I’m gonna lead the operation.”
I fell back in shock. Ebonwing? He was one of the oldest griffons alive! He was frail and delicate, and would probably die to any wound regardless. He couldn’t go like that! I stood up but Mikusian forced me back down.

“Otto, listen,” She said, brushing debris off my jacket. “You are half blind. HALF BLIND, for Boreas’ sake. Should anypony approach you from the left, you will be easy pickings for them. I have a magic-prosthetic eye that we can install for you. Just be patient, Otto.” I shook my head and propped myself up. From my one good eye, I saw the remains of the ponies I had butchered earlier, so they hadn’t moved me. Swirls and splatters of blood marked the cobblestones, painting the road red. Once more, I fell back down to the cobbles.

Mikusian then turned, gasped in fear and called, “ENEMY MAGES BEHIND-” She never finished her sentence as a blast of magic tore through her robes. I was no medic, but the amount of blood spewing from the wound told me it was a fatal blow. Erich turned, his rifle in claws but he too, was hit by an arc of flame. He fell, his jacket burning and beak contorted in agony.

As he fell, he slid the charges to me and uttered, “Ach, deliver these… nngghh… to Wilhelm…”

Those were his final words. A mage speared him from behind with her horn. “Stupid partisian boss. Without a commander they’ll fall short. Scatter and hide like rabbits.” They turned and galloped off. I assumed they didn’t attack me because they thought I was already dead. But they were in for a shock. Bracing myself, I attempted to get up again, using my minigun as support. “Hm?” One of the mages turned around to see a gore splattered griffon, eye bleeding and broken, leg marked with bullet slashes. It was all it took for them to break. They scattered and ran, screaming about a red vengeance. I smiled grimly, the schadenfreule returning. Packing the charges and Mikusian’s prosthetic eye into my pocket, I slowly began to hobble towards the Grover V Station. Every pony I saw ran in terror, probably scared by what looked like a dead griffon marching again, and whoever fought, I cut down where they stood. After what felt like an eternity of walking, Grover V Station loomed into view, lit orange by the setting sun. The entire outer platform was patrolled by griffons, some of whom ran to assist me into the centre of the station. Inside, griffons sat everywhere, on barrels, benches and even some on the lanterns swaying gently. An entire hall was filled with white covered griffons, presumably casualties of this first half of the battle alone. Another was full of wailing, mauled griffons, with medigriffs rushing to and from, some carrying racks of utensils or buckets of blood.

Eventually I found Wilhelm Wiedergriff. He tackled me, yelling “OTTO! What happened to ya!?”

I coughed and said, “Surprise mauling. Have we stabilised the key point control yet?”
He nodded. I coughed again, collapsing. From under my jacket, all of the bombs slid out.

Wilhelm yelled, “GODS! WHAT HAPPENED TO EBONWING!”

I explained the sombre story of them patching me up, the surprise assault of the mages and the deaths of Mikusian and Ebonwing.

“So we got no command now… That means we're toast.” Wilhelm muttered. I merely grunted.

A surgeon ran over and said, “Listen, Otto, you need to be fixed up BADLY!”

I pushed him away. “NO! I’m taking over Ebonwing’s mission! I vowed to dedicate my soul to Grover, and failed, so I will prove my name by killing the imposter! I DON’T NEED HELP!”

The surgeon said, “Fine. At least let us give ya a prosthetic eye.”
I slid out the one Mikusian had handed me. And then the surgeon gave me a shot which made me collapse unconcious.


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, “Lay 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, “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.


Again I was at the Temple of Boreas, beside the throne of the Grovers, with Heavenly Snow atop it. In the backround, the sky glimmered red from the raging flames of war from across the city. In the front, all of the elite from the River coalition were seated before him. River Swirl sat nervously, her sweat running down her flanks in rivulets, Pegicles stroking his pilum in fear. Crimson Heart of Ponaidhean was staring at the throne completely still whereas Queen White Star was drinking champagne after chapagne with Lord Wulfric thinking, probably about how he should be the Kaiser of the Herzlands. Across the aisle, Nova Whirl and Arclight stood, both not all that impressed with this coronation. A large Diamond Dog, presumably their king, sat with a box wrapped in iridescent paper, like a present. He probably didn’t get the memo that this was a coronation. But now the coronation was in full swing now. The Archons were applying their god’s blessing upon Heavenly Frost at gunpoint, at the moment, Eros was midway through his blessing. From here, I could see his fear in his eyes. Then, with a flourish, he poured holy ice over him, uttering “Boreas protect thee.” His job done, he was dragged away by a Lake City guard. He then called at the assembled ponies, “Now I am this union’s head. Swear your fealty to me and me alone and be rewarded. Stand against me and join these pathetic griffs in death!” First came River swirl, who began to utter some form of oath. Suddenly, I awoke with a medigriff zapping me with some exposed wire. “That was some mad stuff there, sir. You fought masses of foes and lost a LOT of blood, yet here you stand victorious. How in Boreas’ name did you not get overwhelmed by agony or just die?” I thought deeply. I had no idea, just fury and rage carried me on. The bullets didn’t hurt me at all then. I then climbed back up, my torso aching horridly as I did so. The medigriff tried to get me down but to no avail. I said, “Whatever fears ya have, you’re right. But I have a service to the Kaiser and Empire to fulfill, by killing Heavenly Snow.”

I raised my battered sword and screamed, “KINSMEN! WE ARE AT THE ENDGAME! I PROPOSE OUR FINAL CHARGE! ENTER THE BUILDINGS AS OUR MAIN HOST CHARGES FOR THE TEMPLE! WE WILL SUCCEED! BOREAS IS ON OUR SIDE! WE MUST WIN FOR GRIFFONS EVERYWHERE!” The battered troops raised their rifles one last time with a hoarse cheer. I could tell, they were running low on energy. They were sick of hearing me desperately gear them up for this. This was our final strike. My inspirational speeches were depleted, the troop morale was lower than I could motivate and now the coronation had begun. I had to finish what Ebonwing started, to defeat the false Kaiser and free the Grovers. Now some tanks had crossed the river, for heavy support, so we could have a chance at taking them on. I raised my minigun and one last time, I screamed, “FOR KAISER UNT VATERLAND!” The hoarse voices of the tired griffons behind me echoing my fury. We then began to hike the last twelve kilometers to the hill’s top and the Temple of Boreas.

As soon as we began to move, the houses erupted in storms of lead, machine guns lining the windows. I charged for the left house, firing towards the windows as I charged. A tank fired at one of the houses, the gunners consumed in fire that mirrored my dedication to this cause. Bashing through the unlocked door, I emerged in a massive marble tiled entry hall, a team of machinegunners at rest in its centre. I gave them no quarter, unleashing my mingun volleys as they scrambled to arms. Four of the ten fell almost instantly, the fifth struggled to open a magic barrier which gave me enough time to slay the fool and the one next to him. The remainder ducked behind a statue of Boreas, one peeking out to spray his own return at me. I used the waxed tiles to my advantage, sliding towards him under the fire until a lucky shot hit my beak. I roared in fury and leaped up, landing behind them and cleaving them all in two with a single stroke. I ripped the blood soaked lead piece from my beak, uttering in anger. Now to clear the rest of the building. Taking their ammo, for I was running low and our machinegun ammos were the same, I climbed up to clear the gunners in the windows. As I climbed, I thought about this battle. How we were winning, I had no idea. Boreas perhaps had blessed us. They outnumbered us severely, and had more aerial support. We were disorganised and I was the only leader. But yet here we were. I was in a manor on the Kaiserstraße, the final push in action. Perhaps our unexpected strike paired with the firm resistance in Feathisia had thinned their lines a bit. I felt the landing under my claws, so I focused. Turning a corner, I kicked a door down and before the gunner could even turn, ran him through the Cutie mark. Not stopping to retrieve my sword, I punched the next machinegunner, not stopping until he fell unconcious. Retriving my blood stained blade, I ran into the next room and slammed my sword into the first gunner’s head. As the next one turned, I swung at his jaw, the blade cutting his head in half. The next room held prepared gunners, as when I turned through the door, I had a smoke bomb blacken my vision, followed by a blast of ice magic freezing my chest. The gunners both leaped through the smoke, their saddleside guns ablaze, ripping holes in my chest. Their blows didn’t stop me from tackling both of them, and charging out the window with them firmly choked under my arms. As the ground arced towards us, I threw them both head first into the ground and spread my wings to handle the hard landing. I hit the ground, rolling to lessen the blow.

As I got up, I asked Wilhelm, who was ordering the panzers to blast their dens to shreds, “How many left?”

He said, “Me and the boys,” he gestured at some contempt, stupid looking, grinning griffons peering out from a tank, “have been able to take everything out up to Giselda Circle. If we all charge as one, we could reach the Temple.” I decided to authorise this one last push. It was time to win this city back. I pointed onwards, a simple gesture that everygriff should know. As one, our force began to grind forwards, the tanks still picking off the machinegunning ponies along the road. Halfway up, our flanks were struck from both sides, waves of Nimbusian pegasi and Deponian tanks storming our unexpecting sides. I turned and spread my wings, launching off the pavement to strike the east insurgency. I dove down straight into the heat of it, my sword piercing two pegasi and as I turned, I bowled another one down. A panzer fired at me, but somegriff threw another Nimbusian pegasus into the shell’s way, splattering me with gore and allowing me time to dodge. I took another bullet to the beak, staining my good eye red, so I bashed the riflepony who fired. He fell easily, and I decided to spin up my gun and dish out a lead blitz. I opened fire, lead, bones and bodies flying everywhere. Whoever approached me, I crushed them, laughing in furious ecstasy. These fools had defaced my homeland and now I would deface them. Fool after fool was mown down, as I turned to face more and more charging me. When one of their heavy tanks turned to me, I fired at the lower front. Judging by the screams, I’d managed to rip through the armour and hit the driver. I leaped atop, and slammed my sword into the roof, hacking a crude entrance into it. Inside, I opened fire once more, blasting through their ammo supplies and the comms pony alike. The commander had an axe in mouth and charged from behind the partisian wall. Like his friends I dispatched him. Climbing out once more, I surveyed their attack failing, laughing in fury as I began to storm them down once more with my leaden barrages. Suddenly, my world glowed orange as a grenade blasted me back. I crashed and rolled through griffs, stopping against a tank. Darkness of death began to edge towards my vision as I watched my blood empty onto the cobbles in front of me. I thought of my failure, to throw the torch to Wilhelm, but I couldn’t find him in the carnage. I called for him, but only succeeded in coughing up more blood. It seemed my fury could only get me so far. I raised my arm and yelled once more, more blood splattering my already soaked commander’s jacket. Struggling and bracing myself against my sword, I climbed up before slipping in blood, my vision beginning to grey out even more.

“This is it.” I thought. “Our resistance ends here.” A medic finally noticed the commander dying and ran over, uttering Boreas over and over again. He stripped my jacket off and swore at the amount of bullets and burns across my chest alone. In fact, I was entirely soaked in blood, so much I looked like I had bled out from everywhere. Which I had. The medigriff pulled out a scalpel, hacking pieces of lead and meat out from everywhere, before sewing up all the wounds to the best of his abillity. I called once more for Wilhelm, but again bled up more.

The medigriff paled and said, “Sir, you must withdraw NOW. You’ve lost over 70% of your blood, and you’ll die! In fact, you’re a miracle lasting this long!”

I ignored this, and climbed back up again.

“SIR!” The medigriff got in my way, so I bashed him away again, but grabbing all his sewing needles and shambled back towards the east insurgency. Griffons faltered to gasp at my ruined body, soaked red in blood, and some even fainted mid battle. The ponies alike were terrified, and when I began to spin up my gun, only then did they charge me. Now I had no joy in this, just cold hard fury. They nearly cost me my life. Now I’d punish them for it. Grenadiers thought the same technique could be used repeatedly, so I shot their grenades. Bullets hit my wounds, reopening them so I pinned them shut using the needles I took. Ponies killed griffon after griffon, so I settled the score by butchering them where they stood. Soon the flow cut out, no more daring to challenge me, so the march continued. Now the massive palace looming over the smoke smothered sky was within our sight, and with it, the Temple of boreas, where Heavenly Snow awaited us. From Giselda Circuit, more of our force returned to join us, our purging of the outer parts of town finished. The ponies here had mostly retreated to the palace or out to the front, afraid of our partisan fury, so now we could end what we began. The last guards, the elites, saw our approach and began to lower the Palace’s gate.

Wilhelm yelled, “That’s not good. The gate is near indestructible, except to Project Arcturius! If it falls we have to fly! And chances are they have Anti Griff guns up there! HURRY!” Using every pint of energy left, I leaped towards the sinking gate, Wilhelm and the remainder of the Knights of Arcturius behind me. Vision darkening, I made it through with the Knights. But as the gate clanged shut, I knew this was true endgame.


Now inside, I remembered the layout perfectly. The east part of the keep was where the temple stood, outside the wall on an outcrop of rock. I yelled and charged, the knights behind. Halfway there, we passed a faction of unconcios ponies, a bottle of alcohol open between them. I ignored and focused on the task at hand. We passed the Statues of Kings, starting with Grover I and ending with Grover VI. All were beheaded, the heads lying in a mound next to the row, the mere sight making my blood boil. We rounded the corner at last, and arrived. As my dreams had shown, the heads of the River Union and the guards, were all lined up, facing Heavenly Snow and the Throne. I then realised the whole plan was screwed up. Ebonwing had expected that he would face the Kaiserplatz and make a presentation, but this was a griffon city, and no griffon would salute a pony as Kaiser. There was no way I could approach the pillars to blast it down without him noticing. Suddenly, he roared and pointed at me, ragged and beat, alongside Wilhelm and our ragged squad of elites. We were screwed, but I may as well try and incite my fury one last time. Clipping my last belt of ammo in, I let rip on the soldiers as they moved towards me as one, and the River Union’s leaders all ran, dragging the entangled Grovers with them. They began to prepare rifles to shoot, a folly that gave me more time to blaze them. Wilhelm had disappeared to Boreas knows where, and the other griffons were already firing alongside me. Now they had readied themselves, they began to return fire. Bullets cut bloody marks across me, each one blossoming in pain. I gritted my teeth and continued to shred the fools, making a simple mistake. When handling a minigunner, SPLIT UP. They were all together firing at me, making almost every lead shard a deadly blow. Blood spurted everywhere, and now they were beginning to doubt my power against theirs.

I smiled and roared, “CRY AND RUN, FOOLS, THE RED VENGEANCE IS HERE!” The name Red Vengeance was something I had only heard once, from a terrified mage, and I felt like for my gore soaked visage, it was a good name. “GAHAHA! DIE, YOU THIEVES!” The schadenfreule was rolling over me, the pain nullified by my hatred of these bastards. Now they were running, my bullets hunting them and felling them. Heavenly Snow was screaming, his voice blocked by my blood rushing in my ears. Now they had all run for cover, only the leaders remaining. Everypony except Heavenly Snow had run now, and he was trembling in rage.

“Y… you killed my guards and stopped my coronation…”

He focused his magic and hefted a fancy single edged blade. “so YOU DIE!” He raised it with magic and charged me, Nimbusian pegasi landing besides him with rifles. I readied my gun and fired the remaining shots at the guards, who all dodged. Finally, a real fight was beginning. They fired their own guns with deadly precision, more of my already drained blood leaking out, but here I felt something. A powerful something held me, and I felt empowered by my fury. I used that to charge, the bullets still cutting through my bloody torso and legs, splattering more blood around me. I leaped, drawing my sword and slashing through the neck of the elite in front of me. Turning, I rammed it into the heart of the pony in front of me, kicking him at another fool, both flying off the outcrop to the Kaiserplatz below. I spun and raised my sword straight to counter Heavenly snow’s sword, his sliding down to my crossguard. Withdrawing, I lashed out to force him back. He slid under and rammed his longblade into my chest. I felt it ram through my chest, but not fatally. In fury, I grabbed my charges and threw them everywhere, all around the Temple. From within the base of the pouch, I hefted the detonator, and everypony gasped in my suicidal plan. I smiled evilly and slammed the detonater. Heavenly Snow leaped away as the bombs all glowed as one, before rupturing across the plaza. I felt the fire burn through my skin and bone, my flesh and blood disintergrating in the blast. In a furious arc, I flew, crashing down in a rooftop a short distance away.

No medigriff could get to me to save me here. My comrades had fallen, Ebonwing and Mikusian had died trying to save me, but Heavenly Snow still lived. Our entire plan had failed.

And now Boreas was coming to bring me to the lands beyond. “Beackmark.” His powerful voice boomed in my mind. “Come.” And everything turned to

black

as

I

ascended.


“Wake.”

I shot upright, my vision restored. I was in a garden, on a marble bench. The trees all bore fruits that I knew were not of our lands. Hedges lined gold tiled paths, and at the end stood a massive golden palace that I knew was the palace of the gods. In front of me stood three griffons that radiated power, in front of a large group of white robed griffons, some I recognized like Grover I, Mikusian, Ebonwing, and Boreal Wiedergriff and other less so. The front was a three metre tall griffon, wearing a solar crown and carrying a golden staff, with feathers that shone like the sun. His eyes were deep golden, which spoke of untold knowledge. He was the true king, the Lord Boreas. To his left a shorter griffon sat on her haunches, her ears decorated with green leaflike points. Atop her head was a crown that looked as if it had been woven from branches of oak. Her petite body was shawled in a green robe, cementing her name as Eyr. On Boreas’ right, a tall griffon sharpened a double edged longsword, engraved with patterns of symbols unknown. His left eye was gone, an eyepatch covering the cavity, but his right eye was steely blue, that seemed to pierce deep into my soul. Atop his head was a steel helm, identical to mine except for the diving eagle symbol where my trident symbol sat. He was Arcturius, my patron of war.

“You did well.” Boreas’ voice was deep and rumbling, like thunder across a summer sky. “Fighting with Arcturius’ wrath, a technique old as griffons. Letting your fury strengthen you. Trying to topple the lying one, Heavenly Snow.”

I said, “My Kaiser, but did you not bless him and crown him?” Boreas roared in fury, causing clouds to thunder and Arcturius and Eyr to cower. “NAY! Eros was forced to at GUNPOINT! He is one I shall never acknowledge as our Kaiser!”

He calmed down and Arcturius stepped forwards. “Kid, you are a champion. Fury is a powerful tool and so is blood. Ya took so long to die because the anger and rage directed at Heavenly Snow was able to force your body to keep running. It was your determination and might throughout that battle. I commend ya, a true hero.”

I bowed deeply, and said, “Thank you, my lord. But did I not fail? I died, and no griffon will step up to the plate to run this offence. Wilhelm was gone, and Heavenly Snow lives! And as emperor, he will have the might of you three behind him.”

Eyr stepped forwards and said, “My dear Otto, he may have a fraction of our power, but you griffons have all of our might behind them. Now as for your death, we don’t agree. In the name of Griffonia, we shall send you back to finish this job. Once, alone. When you fall once more, there will not be another chance. But that pony will not be allowed to rule your people. You can stop him. Fight as the Red Vengeance, the Knight of The Fallen and Fury of the Deceased. Only Grover II before you has been given this, now use it well and stop the imposter.” The world began to fade and the last thing I saw was Ebonwing saluting me.


Suddenly, I awoke once more, atop the roof, my body healed and ammo replenished. The gods were truly giving me another chance. Now just to use that properly. Quickly, I looked around the Kaiserplatz. There were a group of encircled griffons in the center, cornered by some Diamond Mountain infantry. I felt the desperation to aid them, but I had to focus. Heavenly Snow was my quarry, not them. And I was to keep my oath to Boreas. Leaping out, I shot towards the Palace, where gunfire ripped the air. As I flew, I thought of all the unfortunate comrades that fell in this uprising, Ebonwing and Mikusian falling, and the injustices to our kin cast by these liars. I felt the fury building within, flowing in my blood as I dove towards the Lake City elites. Turns out Wilhelm hadn’t died or run away, he had opened the palace gates for the rest of our forces, and were now locked against Heavenly Snow’s legions. But now I was going to give them hell. Unsheathing my sword, I flattened a pegasus and spun, my blade ripping through flesh and bone, showering blood everywhere. Everypony who saw me, panicked and scattered. They had seen my flaming, ruined corpse fall over the Kaiserplatz, yet I was here as strong as steel. This just made it better as I tore through them, my fury roaring within like a bonfire of souls. I hacked through the last to come face to face with the thief himself, Heavenly Snow. His reaction was akin to his comrades, but far quicker overcome. To him, I was just another infuriated griffon peasant, trying to stop him.

Little did he know, this little peasant would be the one who would rip him apart. I lashed at him, my blade clashing against his longsword, drawn hastily to defend. I spun it and cut his leg before ramming my spiked Knight helm into his face, savouring the feeling as his glasses and jaw broke. He screamed and slashed at me wildly, the edge cutting through my jacket and ripping along my arm. I reached back and brought my blade overhead, his own sword blocking desperately. Not stopping, I continued to press down, trying to break his blade as it slowly descended. This I relished. Cornering my foe and slowly breaking him down before finally killing him. Suddenly, in an unexpected move, he rolled to the side and fired a blast of magic at my chest. No time to dodge, I felt it rupture my jacket, but suddenly stop before piercing my skin. I looked, and I noticed armour, shining red in the light of the fire. A parting gift of Boreas, I assumed as I leaped towards Heavenly snow once more. He scampered back, barely avoiding the strike as it split the lawn. I withdrew, and he used the opportunity to lash again towards me. I ducked and rolled behing one of the beheaded Grover statues, his blade biting into the altar. Now defenceless, I charged him, sword angled to behead him, as he desperately tried to retrieve his weapon. Finally realising it wasn’t going to come free, he hefted the head of Grover V and flung it at me with a shot of magic. I couldn’t block, so I just took it. The force of the head sent me hurtling into a wall, my bones shattered in several places. Shaken but not fallen, I stood back up, as Grover III’s head flew towards me again. This time, there was enough space to dodge, so I leaped up and kicked off the rock, straight at Heavenly Snow. Now he had gotten his sword back from the altar, and readied himself for my blow. I put everything behind it, and smashed his blade with all my might. The blow not hitting him, it still sent him flying onto the ruins of the Temple of Boreas. I followed swiftly, my blade aimed at his open throat. Swiftly, he rolled to the side, my blade shattering the rocks where he lay moments ago. Again, he launched a boulder towards me, making me question if he was just a lying cavepony, as he fought like one. This smaller one, I cut it in half before springing at him. Now in the closer quarters, I unleashed a flurry of blows, many nicking and hacking parts of his jacket and flesh free, each one fuelling my anger at Heavenly Snow.

Finally, he screamed, “ENOUGH, GRIFFON! AS YOUR EMPEROR, I COMMAND YOU STOP!” I felt him channeling the might of the gods to try and stop me, part of me relaxing. In retaliation,

I called for the reserves that the gods had given me and screamed back, “NEVER! YOU ARE NOT THE GODS’CHOSEN DISIPLE, YOU ARE NAUGHT BUT AN URSURPER!” Our powers crashed against each other, echoing like thunder and sending rubble flying. The only visible sign was an aura of energy, glowing whitish red. I focused, and took a step towards Heavenly Snow, my energy advancing with it. I felt like marching through a gale, random memories of Heavenly Snow hitting me. I saw him in the Northen Zaphizian plains, leading an assault on a line of fortresses on a river, his inauguration where he had promised to reform the Holy Pony Empire, and then him leading the attack on this city. I continued to take step after step, the gale increasing as he forced more energy into it.

Now I could hear the memories too. “DIE GRIFFON DIE!”

“Come on, CHARGE THEM!”

“THOSE RAIDERS HAVE RUN RAMPANT FOR LONG ENOUGH! OUR HOOF FALLS HERE!”

I took another massive stride, my limbs straining agaisnt the furious storm. Heavenly Snow roared, forcing every reserve of his energy into this attack, the storm firing up with more and more fury. I raised my arms and took yet another step towards him. He couldn’t move, his whole body focusing on forcing me back. I didn’t stop, taking step after step towards him. Finally realising he was dead, he tried to run but his magic had taken it’s toll.Once he started to release it, it wouldn’t stop flying till the target died or he died. But here, I had the will to trump him. Taking the last steps, I swung, my blade arcing straight into his neck, before tearing his entire head free, blood and gore spewing from the severed neck. His last moments of fear were permanently etched onto his face as it rolled across the tile, the maelstrom of magic cooling as his body collapsed behind me. Reaching out, I grabbed his head and ran to where the remainder of the forces duelled.

Upon arrival, I landed on the wall, produced Heavenly Snow’s head and roared, “SEE, FOOLISH PONIES! YOUR EMPEROR LIES DEAD BY MY HAND! SURRENDER OR JOIN HIM!” When they saw his head, they blanched and ran with their guns falling behind them, followed by my forces. Slowly but surely, the news of Heavenly Snow’s decapitation spread, and the River Union retreated from the Hertzland.

Grover II and Grover VI were freed, and the rest of the leaders of the Union aggreed to a ceasefire, returning all our conquered lands and with much fury from Grover II, we accepted. The worst war to rock our Empire in an eternity was over. I was assigned the position of Head of the Royal Guard, Benito humbly stepping down for me, and Grover knighting me as The Red Vengeance, Knight of the Fallen and Avenger of the Deceased. Wilhelm was assigned to the guard under me, which I always poked fun at him about. And the Griffinheim Uprising of 1017 went down in the Historia Griffonia as one of the few successful rebellions in our history.