> The War in Equestria. > by BluesyTreble > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > 1 Normandy today, Equestria tomorrow. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The English men-at-arms practiced in the camp, their various melee weapons clanging and whistling with each swipe and swing the steel-clad men gave. Terence of The Dale, son of a rich lord back in England, brought his sword down onto the hung log, the newly-sharpened broad blade sinking into the damp wood. Perspiration slid down his helmeted face. Sir Geoffrey, his company's liege lord had insisted they practice in full plate armor. Terence gave the oak log a frustrated savage hack, driving the sword nearly halfway through the wood. At the age of eighteen, Terence had been sent to Harfleur as part of "England's greatest army" and in just a month half of this "undoubtedly" superior 12,000 men strong army had been whittled to a mere eight thousand men by dysentery and starvation. Terence was pissed. He had come to fight the French on French soil, not fight logs of oak and birch! He wanted battle, to ransom the French nobles which he heard most of them had twice or even thrice the great fortune his father possessed. He desperately wanted battle. He yearned for it. And prayed for it. And come battle did, for Henry had decided to assault the stubborn port the very next day. ********************************************************************** A rather excited and nervous Ralf Hunt uncased his long yew bow and started to string it. The powerful warbow had sent wickedly sharpened broadheads into hinds and elks. Now this length of stick and string would send bodkins raining upon Frenchmen clad in plates of shining steel. He finished stringing it, bringing the bow up to admire its dull gleam. The longbow of yew was a deadly weapon. The dark heartwood of the yew tree resisted compressions while the pale surrounding sapwood resisted stretching. This made yew a beautiful yet powerful weapon that sunk bodkins nearly one-third up their shafts into steel plate at two hundred yards and at a hundred yards, there was no hope of ever surviving an arrow this close. Ralf looked at his unit. He was an archer, easily recognizable by his enlarged arms and chest. the other archers all had similarly built upper bodies, which were gargantuan, almost grotesque. He turned back to their liege lord, Sir Slayton. The plate-armoured noble held his sword high in the air, waiting for the signal to strike. The French crossbowmen, sensing something was going to happen, leant over the walls and loosed bolts upon the gathered English army. More and more of the blue-clad men swarmed the walls, taking shots at the army. An English man-at-arms spluttered and gurgled on his blood, a bolt embedded in his throat. He fell to the ground, twitching. Sir Slayton, face stoic, now brought the sword down. "Now, strike!" Ralf pressed the whole weight of his body into the bow, right hand pulling the bodkin all the way past his ear. He locked his eyes on a clean-shaven crossbowman, adjusted his aim a little, and loosed. The bodkin whistled with the thousands of other bodkins in the sky, blacking out the skies in a cloud of steel headed death. He watched as his bodkin flitted through the night sky to puncture the chest of his target, the arrow punching through surcoat and hauberk like it was but leaves. He sped three more arrows at the crossbowmen before running after his unit, realising they were moving into the walls of Harfleur. A unit of sixty men-at-arms jostled and shoved to get into the breach the English-hired dutch guns had made. The men-at-arms shoved with their heavy bodies while the archers punched back at them, eager to engage the defenses. Ralf pushed and shoved and punched and kicked his way to the front, arriving in the city. Another English man-at-arms had also forced his way through. The steel-encased man smiled wearily and opened his mouth, about to speak before a blinding flash of lavender light, in a bloom larger than life exploded, enveloping the pair and whisking them off the face of the known world. > 2 The Everfree. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ralf and the man-at-arms screamed as they tumbled in an abyss of colour, different shades of purple morphing into different hues of green and red. The colour display twisted and twirled, making the archer's stomach turn. Unable to take anymore of this, he blacked out. "Hey." Ralf slowly slid open his eyes, adjusting to the darkness rather quickly. He inhaled, wondering what had happened. Turning to his left, he saw the man-at-arms sitting beside a small fire he had made, the flames giving the forest floor a flickering unstable glow. "Get up, archer, you've been out for nearly two hours." He sat up, looking at the man-at-arms. "What in God's name happened?" "I do not know, the details elude me." Replied the man-at-arms softly, removing his helmet and wiping the glistening sweat off his brow. "It seems we're in some forest, archer." He went on, "I've made a little fire to signal Henry's army when they're done taking Harfleur. We may be whipped for this but it beats being stuck in Normandy with no easy way back." He poked at the fire with a stick. "What's your name, archer?" asked the man-at-arms, trying to strike up a conversation. "Ralf Hunt. What's yours?" "Terence of the Dale." He answered with pride. Ralf sat cross-legged near the fire, him being armored in only a mail coat and the surcoat bearing the standard of Sir Slayton and the Cross of Saint George allowing him to do so comfortably, while Terence's greased leather under the steel plate armor he wore squeaked with every movement he made. Wanting to carry on the conversation, Ralf spoke up. "Who do you serve?" "Sir Geoffrey. See?" Terence pointed at his green and red surcoat, emblazoned with the picture of a single lion surrounded by oak branches. Saint George's Cross was also sown on the top left corner of the coat. "Oh, I'm under Sir Slayton." "At least you have SLAYTON leading you, Geoffrey is n-" He stopped mid sentence. "Ya hear that?" "Hear what?" "Roaring." "You don't scare me." Terence irritably looked at Ralf. "I hear it, honestly, the roaring. It sounds as if it's coming closer!" Ralf held up a hand for silence. He could hear a rumbling growl, getting closer and closer. He began to strung his bow, bending the yew stave downward while Terence drew his broad-bladed sword, a small buckler clipped to his left vambrace. "GRRRROOOOAAAWWRRRGHHHHH!!!" A manticore burst out of the bushes, snapping several branches in its wake. Ralf finished up stringing his bow, and laid a broadhead across the stave. A broadhead, he knew, was an arrow designed to deliver a wide cutting edge so as to kill as quickly as possible by cleanly cutting major blood vessels via the sharp blades that can cause massive bleeding in the unfortunate soul it hit. Without hesitation he hauled the bowcord and released. At less than twenty yards the broadhead slapped into the savage manticore's deep blue fur covered thigh, the arrow's stained head protruding from the back of its wounded leg. Terence stepped forward, raising his sword and bringing it down on the manticore's head. The tempered steel blade chopped into its snarling face, earning Terence a violent swat which saw the man-at-arms reeling off to the side. The manticore gave a pained howl before charging at Ralf, causing the archer to fling his bow aside and draw his archer's dagger. The beast reared on its hind legs, causing more dark red blood to pump out of the mishapen leg. Ralf plunged his dagger into the manticore's gut, sliding the dagger across its tough furry yet leathery skin. Intestines slithered out like wet eels from a slit sack, blood wetting Ralf's arms to the elbow. The manticore gave a soft mewing noise before collapsing onto Ralf, who pushed the carcass away and got up to dust himself off. The pair stood over the monstrous body, sweating heavily and panting. "What sort of an animal was that?" "I don't think we're in Normandy." Observed Ralf. "Nor the world we were in." > 3 A cottage of animals and a seemingly failed spell. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ralf sat back down, confused. They had confirmed they were not on the plane they once were, but why? Was it God's decision? Ralf doubted that, for God didn't seem like a person who would favor purple over the traditional golden-yellow glow holy entities were usually portrayed in. Ralf recalled a quarrel with another Welsh archer that led to a pub brawl. Could the Welshman be one of Owain Glyndŵr's men? He remembered the priest who followed his company into Normandy had claimed Owain Glyndŵr had pagan magicians. Ralf had highly doubted that, for he believed that if Owain Glyndŵr had magicians, he would have successfully revolted. But now the possibility seemed high, for there was no other way to explain him and the man-at-arms being yanked from the known world into an unfamiliar land. He mentally apologized to the Welsh archer, hoping he would somehow forgive them and use his pagan magic to bring the two men back safe. "Terence," Ralf called. "Yes?" "There was a pub brawl at The Roundhouse, were you there?" Ralf enquired. "Nay, but I've heard of it. Why?" "Just want to figure out why we're here." "We'll figure that out later. Let's get moving, we don't want another creature trying to maul us." Terence picked up his helmet, sheathing his sword and slinging the buckler over his back. Ralf decided to keep the bow strung, carrying it with him in his left hand. ********************************************************************************** "Twilight, that failed spell was so funny!" Spike guffawed noisily, rolling about on the varnished oak floor and kicking his legs in the air. "SPIKE! You've been laughing about that for more than two hours now!" An exasperated Princess Twilight Sparkle groaned. "In fact, it was two hours, twenty-seven minutes, and thirty eight seconds plus the time it takes me to finish this sentence!" She continued. "Its not funny! We could have gotten seriously injured!" Twilight had tried to accelerate the growth of a caterpillar, despite Princess Celestia's advice not to attempt a spell of that magical capacity, Twilight had decided to try anyway. She had charged a ball of magic, greater than any magic she had ever tried to do, and released. Instead of sending the glowing, thrashing magical sphere traversing the room at the caterpillar, the charged bolt had disappeared, leaving a bewildered Twilight Sparkle standing in the middle of the room. The seemingly bemused caterpillar crawled out a nearby window, unaffected by the spell. ********************************************************************************** The man-at-arms and archer walked along, now tracking a trail of hoofprints left in the soft ground. "If there's a horse here, there must be a village or people nearby!" Terence had concluded, while Ralf washed the manticore blood off him in a nearby river. They followed it some more. "It's leading us out of the forest." Observed Ralf, devoid of any traces of the manticore he had practically gutted a few minutes ago. True enough, light filtered in as the trees grew less dense. The two men walked out, noticing a dirt road, more implications of civilisation. The early morning sky was rather dark, the sun only beginning to rise, creating a gentle brightness that rose slowly before it would reach its fiery peak and signal the beginning of a new day. The men walked more, coming across a small cottage. It was slightly smaller than most of the timber frame cottages both men had seen back in England. The cottage was surrounded and filled with animals of all sorts. Rabbits darted past them while chickens clucked and flapped in a nearby coop. A bear snoozed, back propped against a sturdy tree. As the men neared the front door, Terence noticed the door was split in half, with the top and bottom half being able to open seperately. Ralf was about to knock when a butter-colored, pink-maned mare clutching a sack labelled "BIRDSEED" nudged open both doors and stood staring wide-eyed at the two unfamiliar creatures before her. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH" > 4 Trouble in Ponyville. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The pegasus mare jumped at the sight of two unfamiliar screaming creatures, one of them having a sword in its sheathe. "Ahh!" squeaked Fluttershy, jumping back into her cottage and yanking the door shut. The two men heard the door's bolts being set. "What was that? A mare living in a cottage?" "I don't know, but it sure scared the shit out of us." Ralf replied, still shaking. Shrugging their shoulders, the men left the small cottage, following the dirt road into a small colourful town. The town was far different from the villages and manors they were used to, its inhabitants even more unusual. Horses, smaller than the ones back in England, came in all sorts of colors, most of which had a tattoo on each flank. What further bewildered them was that these brightly-coloured horses conversed in English, their faces forming smiles and frowns, their eyes bright and alert. A mare skipped along a path with a basket around her neck, singing. The two humans stared at the sight before them, but not for very long. " WHAT ARE THOSE THINGS?!" Screamed a cream-colored mare, pointing a hoof at them. "That one's got a sword!" "GUARDS!" A regular horse and a unicorn, which Ralf thought only to appear in fairytales, charged at them, both clad in golden-yellow armor that shone in the half-risen sun. Ralf fumbled around for an arrow, found a broadhead and laid it across the stave, his weight laying into the bow as he hauled the hemp cord past his ear. He released the projectile, the broadhead slapping into the gilded plate and breaking. The unicorn was sent falling backwards from the impact of the arrow propelled nearly two hundred pounds of force. Terence barreled into the horse, which stood shorter than he, and bowled the armored stallion over. The men ran, searching for an escape. "That hollowed out tree! Let us hurry there at once, archer!" yelled Terence, trying to sprint in his armor. Ralf ran, swinging open the hardwood door with a sign displaying an open book. He held it open for the hurrying man-at-arms before slamming it shut. "I think we lost them." Terence gasped, trying to breathe deeply in his armor. "I agree." Ralf leant against the door, panting. "AAAAAHH!" A shorter scream pierced the very brief silence. A lavender unicorn with wings raised her hind legs, clearly intending to buck the pair and possibly break a rib or two. Thinking quickly, Ralf grabbed the hind legs in his upturned palms and with a heave, flipped the winged unicorn over, sending Twilight Sparkle landing roughly on her back with a sickening thud, all the breath knocked out of her. "God's holy shit, run!" Terence urged, pushing Ralf out the opened door and running off after him. Twilight scrambled up and out after them, "STOP THOSE TWO CREATURES!" She hollered, charging up a stun spell and aiming her pulsating horn at the steel-clad creature with the sword. She released the spell, the dim purple bolt streaking through the air. As soon as it touched Terence it expanded into a great bubble of the dim purple magic, enveloping the unfortunate Terence and freezing him in midair. Ralf continued sprinting, oblivious to the fact his new friend was captured. A blonde-maned orange mare had heard Twilight's screams, and galloped full speed at the fleeing archer. The farm-pony sailed through the air, tackling the archer. Ralf tumbled, ending up on the ground with the farm-pony standing over her. The horse had on a wide leather hat. The mare raised a hoof, thinking to knock out Ralf with a hoof-stomp to the face, but stopped when she looked down to see Ralf clutching a clump of her chest fur and pulling it. Ralf pulled with the strength of an archer, threatening to rip out the fur. The mare's left eyelid twitched, her mouth forming a grimace, revealing rows of white teeth. Making use of the distraction, Ralf held the fur in his left hand and thrust his right fist into her face, causing the mare's blonde head to snap back. Ralf punched again, with greater force, this time releasing the fur. The mare staggered backwards, an angry blue-black bruise on her cheek forming. "Well Ah never! That creature there is the strongest lobber Ah've ever seen!" exclaimed the mare, rubbing her cheek with a hoof. Ralf got and and started toward the mare, only to be shot by a second stunning spell and stopped mid-stride, enveloped by another purple sphere of glowing magic. The strange horses had them captured. He prayed in his mind, afraid the horses would do something terrible to the pair. "Good job Applejack! Looks like we have some interrogation to do!" Twilight happily but wearily said. "Yer dayum right Twi!" Applejack replied. Godammit, thought Ralf. > 5 An interrogation. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twilight, with her magic, lifted the two shimmering orbs trapping the men and trotted back towards her library, with Applejack following close behind. Once in the library, she grabbed two chairs with her multitasking magic and released the pair. Ralf fell, gasping as he realised he could once again move. Terence was sprawled on the floor, groaning. Twilight aimed her horn at them, this time with a static bolt charging. "Sit in the chairs. Applejack, tie them up." She ordered. "Pagan, rump-fed talking horses." Muttered Ralf as he got to his feet and unhappily walked to a chair. "We're still alive! Embrace it! These horses could've given us no quarter!" Hissed Terence, who was beside Ralf. The two sat themselves upon the hardwood chairs while Applejack bound them with rope. With her mouth, she slid Terence's sword out of is sheathe and Ralf's dagger from its smaller sheathe. She tossed the weapons to a corner of the room. Ralf's bow was pressed against his body, the arrows in the arrow bag strained, pressed by his body and the back of the chair. Fortunately, the arrows being in a bundle prevented any breakage or bending. Twilight's horn stopped glowing. She strode toward Ralf and brought her face very close to his face, Ralf could smell her grass-scented breath. "What are you?" "Humans, Englishmen." Replied Ralf, locking eyes with the cursed winged unicorn, his own eyes brimming with detest for the four-legged talking mare. Terence gave a slight nod.Twilight strode over to Terence, staring at him with narrowed violet eyes. "Why were you here?" Was the next question. "We haven't the slightest, a purple explosion resembling your magic brought us here." Terence truthfully replied. "Wait, what?" exclaimed a rather surprised Twilight Sparkle, recalling the failed spell. Could it be? She decided to test them some more. "Honest!" Ralf agreed. "Ha ha, and I'm a turtle. WHY ARE YOU HERE." Twilight said in quite the frightening voice. "They're speakin' the truth,Twi, no need ta rack the 'truth' outta some poor humans!" Applejack spoke up. "My spell!" Twilight shouted. "It must've brought them here!" "We were about to take Harfleur before YOU swooped in and brought us here!" Snarled Ralf. "But... But ya'll still busted up some of the town guards and got me twice in tha cheek!" Applejack stammered defensively. "We were practically KILLING people in Harfleur." Ralf said, raising his voice. "Murderers!" "We're part of an army!" "Oh." was what Twilight could only say. ".... Sorry, I didn't know the spell was messed up! I thought it was just... Failed." She awkwardly said as she unbound the two men. She stopped and asked. "Will you two attack us if we release you?" "No." Terence assured. "We won't but we'll get attacked ourselves once we get out of here." Ralf worryingly said. "Don't worry, I'll get this sorted out." Twilight promised. "We've no home here by the way." Ralf took a gamble he wagered his face, thinking to convince the purple mare to let them stay. After all, they could settle in this horse-town, which he knew at least had trade and were literate, wherefore a better place to stay instead of the beast-infested forest. "Don't worry, I'll find a solution to that too." Ralf had wagered for Evens, and the dice had given him Evens. > 6 The Mane Six Part One. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Twilight Sparkle had first called a meeting at Sweet Apple Acres, a large farm that belonged to Applejack's family. She had apparently called Applejack and four other ponies, which she introduced as her closest friends who could supposedly help the soldiers along in settling. Ralf immediately recognised the butter-colored pegasus, who sort of withered under his gaze. A white unicorn with regal curls cascading down her neck looked them up and down disapprovingly, eyeing their filthy clothes. The cyan mare flipped her multicolored mane and lazily looked at them. "HEY!" A pink blur whizzed into the men, hugging them tightly. Ralf's bow and arrows threatened to break again. "Let us go, we can't breathe!" "Okie dokie lokie!" Chirped the pink pony, releasing them and jumping up and down on the spot. "I've never seen you two before, though I did hear about you two, everypony in Ponyville are all talking about you two like you two are a pair of hooligans that go round hurting everypony! I don't get it, but why is everypony so worked up about this??!" She paused before continuing. "I'm Pinkie Pie! What's your name? I mean, come on, new beings, pony or not, means NEW BEST FRIENDS!! We're totally gonna have one big party to welcome you two and then we can all eat cake and get all woozy on cider! Or we can have two parties! One for each new visitor! Or maybe an after-welcome party after that! Or an after-after wel-" A large red apple was unceremoniously shoved into the bright pink mare's mouth, stopping her babbling. "Now that we've no more interruptions," Twilight began, shooting a stern glance at Pinkie, who had somehow swallowed the apple and now grinned back at Twilight. The lavender unicorn rolled her eyes and continued, "As a result of one of my failed spells, these two unfortunate humans were mistakenly teleported here, and the Ponyville residents aren't reacting very well to this. How about you girls get to know them a little, I've got a town meeting to put together." With that, Twilight trotted off, leaving the five ponies with Ralf and Terence. "What's that?" came a slightly raspy voice. Ralf felt his bow being slid off him. He turned to see the cyan mare curiously examining his great yew bow, which was strung. "Take care with that, mare, for it is quite the dangerous weapon and a formidable arm." The mare rose into the air, thumping her puffed out chest with a hoof. "My name's Rainbow Dash, RALF, so call me by that instead! I, the greatest and coolest and most awesome athlete in Equestria, deserve to be called something other than simply and plainly, a mare." She came back to the ground, clutching his bow in one hoof. "And this? A stick and a string? A weapon?" She laughed, rolling on the ground and gripping her tummy. "What do you do with it? Throw it at the enemy? That would be wasting good firewood, Ralf, I suggest this belongs best in the fireplace. Do come along and give me that for the winter, we pegasi like to keep ourselves warm after a long day of cloud bustin' ya know?" Ralf snatched the bow and removed a bodkin from his arrow bag. He nocked the arrow, swinging the bow upright. He pointed it at a nearby tree, no more than fifty paces away. With his string fingers, their skin turned into hard leather pads by the harsh bowstring, he pulled the cord all the way past his ear. Some of the lazier archers would have pulled it to the eye, where they could aim down the arrow's shaft, but that deprived the warbow its power. He released the arrow. "Thwack!" The bowstring snapped back into position, sending the arrow streaking across the late morning light. The bodkin punched through the birch, with only the back of the arrow, fletched with goose-feather, showing at the front of the birch. The other three quarters of the arrow had gone through the birch, the long shaft holding the bodkin still quivering. "Do you want an arrow in your face?" Ralf asked smugly. Rainbow Dash just stared, mouth hanging wide open. She shook her head, quickly regaining her composure. The others did not recover quickly. "No thanks, not that you could even GRAZE me with one of those!" She taunted, trying to look brave. "I'd rather not challenge an archer if I were you," Terence spoke up. "Those men can pick the snot out of your nose with an arrow at two hundred paces." To prove Terence's point, Ralf's second arrow, a broadhead, whistled through the air to slice an apple off it's stem nearly two hundred and fifty paces away. "Woah there, Nelly, we see yer point, no pressin' need ta put one of them pointy flyin' sticks in somepony's face ov'r a taunt." Applejack recovered to stop the taunt from elevating to another fight. "WOOAA-"Rainbow Dash, noticing her watching friends, quickly resumed her normal laidback tone. "That wasn't too bad, Ralf, we should hang out sometime, I'll teach ya how to be as awesome as me." She put her foreleg around Ralf's shoulder, the fur soft against his skin. "Such a cumbersome weapon! It makes you look like a savage!" "Don't mind Rarity, she's a right pain in the flank, sugarcube." "Oh, and your clothes, you two look simply DREADFUL!" "Good luck, sugarcube." > 7 The Mane Six Part Two > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Despite Rarity's repeated offers to give them what she called a "makeover" which will make them "fabulous", The men insisted on keeping their current clothes and armour, not trusting a horse creature to make clothes. "HMPH! Fine! But to refuse to look fabulous is one of the most ridiculous things I have ever heard! You two look HIDEOUS!" Rarity gave up in frustration, stomping her foreleg and turning her nose up and them. She narrowed her eyes in disapproval. Terence sucked in a deep breath through his teeth. He controlled his rage. "Well, you look like an overfed and portly lady, you hindquarters stick out most disgustingly, DARLING!" Ralf spat back. "WHAT DID YOU SAY?" "You heard me, there's no need to repeat, Lady Rarity The FAT!" Ralf had begun to shout, his short temper ignited and started to blaze like ash wood in a fireplace. "Shut yer trap, you two! That's enough squabblin' fer today!" Applejack put a forehoof on Ralf's broad barrel chest and another on Rarity's. "Sorry, Applejack." Rarity promptly apologised. She walked over to Ralf. "We're not finished." "Nor are we." Agreed the archer. Resisting the urge to restring his bow and give the arrogant unicorn a broadhead in her heavily painted face. Rarity gave Ralf a glare that made him feel coldness creeping up his spine. He shoved away his fear and locked eyes with the offending unicorn, determined to show her he wasn't scared. Although the Human had just insulted her, she found him rather adorable, but decided to not drop the charges just yet. Ralf hated that unicorn. Arrogant wench. Just then, Twilight Sparkle came back. She had changed into her regal princess robes, complete with crown, jeweled chestpiece and gold horseshoes. She reminded Ralf of an armoured french destrier, Ralf kept his mouth shut, realising he had offended many today. "We're ready to go! I'll give a short speech, and we'll have somepony else talk about Ralf and Terence." Twilight briefed them. "I'LL DO IT! ME! ME! ME!" Pinkie Pie jumped up and down, thrusting a forehoof into air and screaming. If she had behaved this way back in his village's schoolhouse, she would have gotten her rump birched, thought Terence. "You sure you can do this? Pinkie?" Twilight raised a doubtful eyebrow, something horses back in England definitely did NOT have. "YYYES INDEEDILY TWILIGHT!" "Oooookay then Pinkie." The butter-colored mare hadn't spoke, she stood there, hiding her face behind her mane, her eyes gazing at the men. Terence turned and look at her, noticing her soft aqua-blue eyes. They looked like they would fill with tears at the slightest unkind act, yet Terence noticed a sinewy strength bottled within. She noticed Terence and looked away. "What're you waiting for people? We've got names we got to clear! Let's go!" Twilight led the gallop the ponyville, Ralf and Terence trying their hardest to keep up. Applejack and Rainbow went back for them, throwing the humans onto their built backs and galloped, the two athletic and strong mares keeping up with the rest with ease. Ralf held on to Applejack's warm neck. By grace of God, he was starting to like this strange new world. > 8 Pinkie's very serious speech. > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- They led a spirited gallop into Ponyville, where all the residents were already gathered at the front of the Town Hall. Pinkie cleared her throat, stepping up onto the stage. Twilight nudged the two Englishmen onto the stage, drawing stares from the residents. Pinkie cleared her throat again, and commenced the speech. "We are all gathered here today," Pinkie began in her usual high pitched voice. What was missing was the usual cheerful tone and smile that accompanied it. "To address an issue, the issue of racism." She paused, letting her words sink in. She gestured at the men. "These two men here are humans, part of an army in the land of England. Do they look different?" She asked the audience. A wave of nods. "I think so too," She continued. "But does that give you sufficient reason to freak out and to call the guards on these innocent creatures?" She asked the audience again. "Those two attacked the guards! And they were armed!" A stallion's voice shouted from the audience. "Did they draw their weapons? Did they threaten to attack you?" Pinkie countered. "No! They did not! They did nothing but legally walk into Ponyville! And what they got for a welcome was two armed guards charging straight at them, threatening to attack them! Of course they had to retaliate!" Pinkie explained. "But still they launched a pointy stick at me!" The guard, standing in the front row, pointed at the wicked dent in his armour. "And that metal-covered one knocked me over!" His companion added. Pinkie drew in another breath and asked. "Instead of asking us what they were doing here, why did you two just attack? Instead of keeping the peace, why are you breaking it?" The guards kept silent. "So I can safely infer that YOU two, seeing THESE two are different, thought it was okay to attack them, make them feel unwelcome?" The guards were now clearly uncomfortable, shifting their weight from one hoof to another. "Like what you ALL did with poor Zecora when she just arrived?" Pinkie pressed on, waving an outstretched hoof at the gathered audience. "Do you know how terrible they feel now thanks to your MEANLINESS??! " Pinkie screamed at the audience. "I think you meant 'meanness'." Twilight whispered into Pinkie's ear. "I knew that long ago, silly!" Pinkie hissed back. "Then why not use it?" "Because I think 'meanliness' sounds more MEAN than plain old 'meanness'!" Pinkie answered with a smile. Twilight rolled her eyes. The audience, meanwhile feeling apologetic, spoke up. "Ah'm mighty sorry." A small filly with a large bow in her hair spoke. "We're sorry too." A small group of stallions called. The audience started to apologise in droves, when suddenly.. "HEY! You know what this calls for?!" Pinkie's regular cheerful voice had returned. "Wait for it..." The yellow filly with the large bow said. "A PARTY!" Pinkie screamed, whipping out a small cannon from behind her and firing it. The cannon cracked and launched colourful confetti and hundreds of candies into the audience, who were cheering in welcome of the two unfamiliar but now friendly creatures. ************************************************************************************************* Terence and Ralf staggered back to Sweet Apple Acres, drowned in cider and hardly able to talk. "That was one great celebration!" Ralf shouted, throwing the empty apple cider bottle into the air. "I agree." Nodded Terence. Life seemed perfect for now, void of warfare and full of friendship. ******************************************************************************************** But somewhere underneath the Everfree forest, green-skinned humanoids sharpened war-axes and spears, and beat steel and iron plates into shape. They recited odes to their daemon gods, and memorised spells of Fel magic, they waited eagerly for their dragon mounts to mature, their growth accelerated by Fel magic, their joyful whelphood cruelly taken away. > 9 Greenskins! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The majestic night Luna raised was soft and calming, unlike herself. Stars lay scattered all over her beautiful night, glittering and winking. The trees of the Everfree Forest swayed and rustled in the gentle breeze. The silence was broken by a rhythmic thumping. Torches flickered, their light revealing axes, hammers, maces and spears in gigantic quivers held by grim-faced emerald-skinned creatures who marched, their numbers so large the ground quaked under their stomping feet. The bulky creatures carried a giant flag of deep red and black, marching without a word. Leaving countless four-toes footprints, they marched the path leading out of the forest. And towards Ponyville. "Oh dear!" Fluttershy locked and bolted her door, blowed her candles and oil-lamps out and continued peeping out of her window at the massive columns of Orcs marching past, they marched twenty abreast, trampling on her crops to keep their formation. She shivered in fear, unsure of what to do. Her animals kept silent too, staring at their timid friend sitting on her rump looking out the window. Ponyville was sleeping, save for the handful of guards patrolling the streets. The ground started to gently quake. "Battle Born! Do you feel the ground beneath us shaking?" A nervous white Unicorn asked, darting his grey-maned head toward the Earth pony beside him. "I do, what's going on?" As if in answer, a long spear shot through the air to lodge in the dirt and gravel paved ground. "Whose is that?!" Battle Born called, trying to sound brave. A roar split the chill air, followed by many others, joining in a savage and brutal chorus that nearly deafened the guards and woke Ponyville up. Lights flickered on, different colored faces peeking out for a look before locking and bolting their doors at the sight of the Orcish Army charging into Ponyville. The guards gathered into a schiltrom formation, knowing they were vastly outnumbered, charged, rushing blindly toward their doom. The guards were only a volunteer force, made up of action craving adolescents and old veterans from the Royal Canterlot Army. "SPIKE!" Twilight, witnessing the Orcs slaughter the poorly trained guards called for her dragon assistant. Spike hopped down the stairs, waddling toward the window. "Yes Twilight?" "Spike! Take a note! Quick!" The purple dragon produced a piece of rolled-up parchment with a quill within its rolls. "My dearest Princess Celestia, Please send help! Ponyville is being besieged even as we speak by Orcs from the Everfree Forest, lives are being lost, so time is of the essence." Spike's quill quivered and shook as he wrote hastily to keep up with Twilight. "Got it?" Twilight asked, her eyes fastened onto the sight of the disorganised melee that had now fought its way into the town square. "Yes Twilight!" "Send it! Quick!" The dragon drew in his breath, his little chest expanding dramatically, and blew, bright green flames enveloping the letter. The smoke floated quickly out the window. Within a minute, small groups of Royal Equestrian Army stallions-at-arms and Unicorn magi arrived in their twenties, the stallions-at-arms rushing into the melee while the magi hung back, casting destruction spells at the green-skinned brutes who threw themselves at the pony lines, threatening to rout the lines and swarm the town in a tide of pillage, massacre, and rape. "Applejack! Geddup sis!" Big Mac gave the bed a kick, waking up his blond-maned sister who jumped out of bed. "What's that fer, Big Mac!" The mare got up and stared irritably at her big brother. "'Ah heard there be a big battle in the middle of the town square! It seems them Orcs are attackin' Ponyville!" Big Mac practically shouted at Applejack, waking up Ralf. Big Mac repeated his sentence at the drowsy archer, who perked up instantly and snatched up his bow, pulling his mail on. After slipping on his surcoat he picked up his bag of arrows and shoved past Applejack and Big Mac, running toward the town square, not wanting the Rape of Soissons which occurred just last year to happen to Ponyville. Ralf was part of the archer units which failed to defend the garrison, and narrowly escaped the massacre the French infamously commited. Terence was sitting at a fire, cooking some apple stew. The archer dragged him along, repeating what Big Mac had told him and Applejack. Terence pulled away to don his helmet. He grabbed his sword and buckler before following Ralf. "Go, Terence! Hold the line!" Instructed Ralf, pausing to string his great yew bow. The man-at-arms nodded and continued towards the town square. Ralf now wished his unit of archers were with him. > 10 The battle for Ponyville Part One > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Slightly quaking in excitement, Terence waded into battle, sword and buckler at the ready. Raising the sword, he brought it down as hard as he could on the first orc he saw, the tempered steel blade chopping into its broad shoulder. Blood spurted out, covering Terence's breastplate and right arm in the dark-red liquid. The orc recoiled, dropping his ax to clutch his injured shoulder. Terence grabbed the orc, grasping the orc's unwounded arm and yanking the warrior towards him and shoving him backwards into the lines of stallions-at-arms, who ganged up on the unfortunate orc, leaving him in a battered mass of glistening flesh. Meanwhile Ralf had set up position no more than fifty yards from the battle, sticking his arrows point-first into the ground. He nocked an arrow, holding the bow horizontally. He hooked his string fingers around the string, and swung the bow upright. He brought it up and drew, hauling the bow-cord all the way past his ear. He fixated his focused gaze on a snarling orc who threw spears at the Equestrian magi, who were charging up their magical bolts. He lay into the bow, not noticing the tiny shifts his hands made to adjust his aim. Ralf loosed, looking up as the arrow drew its deadly curve in the sky, the bodkin flew true and straight, punching through the leather and mail the orc wore and burying itself up to the fletchings. The orc screamed, a deep guttural noise that caused the nearby fighting orcish warriors and staiions-at-arms to wince. The orc dropped his remaining spears, hands closing around the feathered shaft, crushing the delicate fletchings as he attempted to pull the arrow out. A stallion-at-arms bucked his onto his back before sticking a lance into his green face, killing him instantly. "Ralf! Ah've been lookin' all over for ya!" A shout distracted Ralf, the archer turned back to see Applejack galloping towards him. She stopped in front of Ralf, expertly stopping herself by digging her forehooves into the ground, bringing up clods of earth. From here to Sweet Apple Acres took quite a while, and Applejack, after galloping the whole way, showed no signs of exhaustion. Ralf admired the mare's resilience and stamina. Applejack stared at the spectacle, her bright green eyes wide open. "Heavens ta Betsy! This is way more bloody than the changeling problem at Canterlot." Commented the Earth-pony, obviously unnerved. She let out a grimace. "How was that 'problem' at Canterlot?" The archer ceased his loosing, turning to Applejack. "Bruises and small cuts, but it was nothin', Ah repear, nothin' like this!" She waved a hoof at the raging melee. "Gory or not, you'll have to be going down there to help, we're still outnumbered, and the line is soon breaking." Ralf gently, but very firmly. "Here," He said, taking off his helmet and sticking it on Applejack, over her hat. She gave an irritated glance before removing the helm, taking off her hat before replacing the steel helm. "Now get in there and buck orcs!" Ralf shouted, giving Applejack a shove on her rump. She stumbled under his push before regaining her pace and galloping toward the battlefield. Ralf said a short prayer for the orange mare before picking up his bow to re-commence shooting. He was about to loose another arrow, his upper body beginning to tire from the pulling and loosing. He slightly loosened his string fingers, and then sharply released, sending another bodkin on its deathward journey at an orc warrior. "Ralf! Raaalf!" Twilight teleported herself in front of Ralf, obstructing his aim. He nearly released the arrow in fright. He re-adjusted his aim, thanks to Twilight, and released again, before turning to discover Twilight had brought the rest of the group of friends he had met in Sweet Apple Acres. Pinkie brought along her "party cannon", having filled it with confetti and a notch more gunpowder than usual. Fluttershy covered her eyes, not daring to look at the bloody battle that went on. Rainbow had nodded a greeting toward Ralf before launching herself up into the sky. Ralf watched as she snatched an inactive black thundercloud from the night sky before swooping over to the fighting orcs and ponies. She positioned the soot-colored cloud over a clustered rabble of orcs before bucking the cloud. Lightning exploded from the cloud, zapping the orcs. The orcs directly under the angry black cloud were but darkened smoking corpses, their more fortunate comrades leapt away from the resulting flames, gasping in pain and rubbing at their slightly charred shoulders and chests. Twilight rushed to the magi lines, shouting words of encouragement while blasting magical bolts and the seemingly countless orcs. Pinkie sat and waited. She expertly balanced a tray of freshly baked cupcakes,on her rump with smoke still rising from their perfectly made surfaces. How her rump did not burn puzzled Ralf. "Want one?" She poked her rump close to Ralf's face, almost scalding his face. He stopped shooting, letting the fatigue wash over him in a wave of sour and painful exhaustion. Pinkie grabbed a pink-frosted cupcake, tossed it nearly twenty feet in the air before catching it in her mouth as it came back down. Ralf took a cupcake, choosing one with no frosting. He was suspicious of that stuff, having never seen it before. He hastily crammed the cupcake in his mouth, the sweet pastry immediately filling his mouth and stretching it painfully. He winced as he chewed before awkwardly swallowing the lot down. He felt an expanding pain as the half chewed cupcake forced its way down his gullet. He coughed, almost choking. He stood back up, picking up his bow, his hand reaching for an arrow. There were none to be found. "C'mon Ralf! Time to get up close with those meanie orcs!" Pinkie cheeped as she wheeled her cannon towards the battle. > 11 The battle for Ponyville Part Two > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A close look revealed to Ralf the cannon contained small pieces of coloured parchment-like material and what the ponies called "candies". The cobblestone street leading to the town square was held together by mere dirt. Thinking quickly, Ralf drew his archer's dagger, dug out half a dozen of the small but heavy stones and rolled them all down into the barrel of Pinkie's cannon before darting out the way, archer's dagger still drawn. Pinkie didn't notice, her eyes excitedly fixed onto the battle. Ralf ran into battle, sticking his puny dagger into an unprepared orc face. The orc dropped the poleaxe with a clatter, clutching the dagger embedded in his face. Ralf ducked for the poleaxe, scooping it up before brandishing it at the lines of orcs that now filled his vision. Unlike English armies, the orcs massed together, spear-throwers and infantry alike in one gargantuan and numerous group, they charged continously, trying to muscle their way through each time, only to be repelled again and again by Equestrian Stallions-at-arms who valiantly held their positions and never once broke ranks and routed. The stallions at arms fought on their back two legs, their forehooves curled around their weapons. Ralf lifted the hefty poleaxe, turned to the right and gave a clumsy swing, staggering a pair of axe-wielding orcs. The blow had harmlessly glanced off the black chestplate the orcs wore. Another orc shoved his way in and punched Ralf squarely on the forehead. Rald's head spun and reeled. He drew back the poleaxe and blindly thrusted with the spear point, feeling the point crack through a rib and rip into a lung. Another orc rammed a clenched fist into his chest, knocking him back onto the stallions-at-arms who pushed him back upright. "We can't keep pushing back and forth like this!" A portly stallion-at-arms clutching the Celestian banner shouted at the massed troops. Princess Twilight Sparkle teleported into the back of the Pony lines, dressed in gleaming lavender armour. The newly-crowned princess was surrounded with more stallions-at-arms, dressed in her own lavender colors and flying her proud banner of her cutie mark. "Ponies! We have to be more organised!" She amplified her voice with a spell. "Stallions-at-arms stay in the battle! Unicorn magi, get out of the fray! Shoot at the enemy's flanks!" The Orcs seemed to have done the same, for the spear-throwers now moved out of the melee and sent their spears skewering the Equestrian flanks. The fighting resumed, although it was more organised now, with spear throwers trying to wipe out the magi who were blasting back with fatal accuracy, burning off limbs and chunks of flesh with their searing lightning bolts. It was as if the melee had taken an even more brutal and gruesome turn. An Orc warrior staggered past Ralf, an arrow embedded in his thigh. Ralf knowing that ponies weren't archers and probably wouldn't have arrows to sell or provide him with, smacked the Orc across his head. Before the stout greenskin could recover, Ralf had already yanked the bodkin out of his thigh and shoved him back into his own lines, causing chaos and disarray at the new collision. Several Orc warriors were knocked off their feet. Stallions-at-arms scuttled towards the fallen bodies, slitting throats or breaking windpipes with a sickening stomp. Ralf slid his gaze away from the slaughter, having seen even worse back in Soissons. He ignored the Orc's scream and slung the poleaxe, bringing out once again the warbow. He nocked the bloody arrow and looked for a target. An orc in brass-trimmed polished black plate shouted commands, shoving warriors and occasionally pausing to yank an endangered Orc out of the fray and the jaws of death. Two banners, one deep red and one black, hung from some sort of holder from his back. Ralf adjusted his aim and hauled, eyes fixated on the shining bastard still yelling orders. The bow began to flex, limbs bending and submitting to the strength of the archer. Ralf loosed, the goose-fletched arrow streaking up into the air. It arced down, punching through the Orcish helmet and plunging into brain, killing the War Chieftan instantly. Almost immediately three long blasts sounded from an Orc horn. Orcs stopped fighting, looked up and instantaneously whole units of Orcs routed, eventually the whole army was on the run. The Equestrians gave chase, dragging back slow runners back into their lines and ganging up on them. Pinkie finally decided to use her cannon, pointing it at the retreating orcs. She fired the cannon, causing a sprinting pair of spear-throwers to disappear in a mist of blood. The stones Ralf had dug up did well. > 12 Aftermath and Total War > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The sunrise revealed corpses, piles upon piles of Orc and Equestrian bodies strewn all over the town square, the ground slick with blood and gore. Terence drooped in exhaustion, staggering to a nearby bench to sit. Ralf stood staring at the pile of dead, wondering how many Orc bodies there were. Ponyville residents crowded around their dead, some grieving and others saluting the valiant stallions who had died defending Ponyville. "Daddy?" A grey-maned young colt whispered to his dead father, who had been brutally struck down and smothered in his armour. Terence and Ralf looked away, nose starting to sour and eyes beginning to tear. Both English soldiers held their sorrow back. Other ponies openly wept for their dead. Applejack removed her leather hat in salute. Twilight and Rainbow Dash checked the corpses, dragging out survivors for volunteer residents to cart to the hospital or finishing them off if they were Orcs. Another group of volunteers carried and carted the dead off to Ponyville cemetery, which was already being expanded to accomodate the large number of dead fighters and civilians. Ralf decided to keep the poleaxe, unable to find his dagger in the mess. He would have to train with it somehow. He steeled his heart and unstrung his great yew stave. "A report?"At Sweet Apple Acres, Terence had asked Twilight after the clean-up was finished. Spike tossed Twilight a piece of parchment that she neatly caught with her magic. She unrolled the parchment and recited. "One thousand and two hundred Orcs dead and seven hundred ponies killed in the action. Not to mention over two thousand wounded." She looked up from her script. "Thank you, Twilight, I daresay it is a victory we have won here today?" Terence enquired. "We still lost, ponies died." Twilight flatly said. "Jesus." muttered Terence. He sat on a lying log and started to untie the straps of his armour pieces. In ten minutes he was in just his tunic and breeches. Big MacIntosh picked up the armour in his teeth and carried them to three small fillies, which immediately did a comical leap in unison and shouted. "CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS LAUNDERERS!" "Shouldn't it be armourers? Or armour maintainers?" A yellow filly with a crimson bow tied to her mane raised an eyebrow. "I dunno Applebloom, aren't armour clothes?" Her orange friend countered. The three fillies who so insolently called themselves 'Crusaders' began to squabble amongst themselves. Ralf sat down at what Twilight called a 'polycarbonate and aluminium folding table' and grabbed a 'juice box'. Ignoring the ' straw', he tore off the top of the juice box and chugged down the contents. It tasted like apple juice, but the wording on the juice box was unrecognisable. It was printed in bright yellow and had a picture of Applejack somehow molded onto it. He crumpled the empty box and tossed it into a barrel repurposed as a container for waste. "Say why would the Orcs come swarming out trying to kill us all of a sudden?" Rainbow Dash leant forward, looking around at her friends and the archer. "Fluttershy here says they marched in, the attack was intentional!" Twilight inferred. Ralf leant further forward, looking straight at Twilight. "It is war you're suggesting, is it not?" "We have no other choice, we can't just sit here and let them take all our lands!" Terence unrolled an English banner and held it to a burly oak. With his dagger he stuck his proud banner into the oak. "To war we go, then." Terence said, looking up at the three rampant lions emblazoned on the magnificent red banner. > 13 War preparations > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Ah second Terence! Ah would do everythin' Ah' can ta stop mah farm from gettin' ravaged by them consarned greenskins!" Applejack stomped a forehoof hard on the ground. "The Orcs must be stopped." Nodded Twilight Sparkle. She stood up. "Ralf and Terence, you two are soldiers, throughout this tumultous period and chaotic future, will you give freely your knowledge and experience of warfare?" "Certainly." Ralf stood up. "Arrrows! Get the town blacksmith to craft arrows and coats of mail for levy troops! This town has to be garrisoned with militia if we want every soldier for the war effort!" "Weapons!" Terence added. "The heavier the better! Broadswords, pollaxes, greatswords, flails, maces, crow's beaks! The Orcs are a tough bunch!" The orcish infantry wore little or no armour, save for their superiors, but their soldiers could shake off a flail blow at full swing to the head. The heavier the weapon, the more anti-orc it was. The spear-throwers too, had shocked Terence. an orcish spear-throwers, or 'headhunters' could send a sharpened steel tipped spear ripping through armour, muscle and bone and skewering up to four Equestrian warriors at once. He shuddered at the thought. ******************************************************************************************************************* By the next morning the town blacksmith's yard was draped with mail coats and an array of weapons. Shields shone while hanging from the outer walls while newly-forged dangled from hooks. Ralf and the Cutie Mark Crusaders helped the blacksmiths carry out a fresh batch of helmets outside for distribution. The head blacksmith, confident of pony abilities, had also manufactured a few dozen hoof-spanned crossbows under the guidance of Ralf. who had seized a few crossbows back in Soissons and had examined their unique and seemingly effective mechanisms. Most Earth Ponies had more strength than even Milanese chevaliers, making both windlass and hook-belt obsolete. But few neared or even matched the immense bow-given strength of an English archer, which Ralf displayed by carrying twenty crossbows in one arm. He placed the crossbows on the ground before going in for a couple more. "That's enough for now, Englishmen, there's a funeral service about to start. Let us go and pay respects to the brave and unfortunately less well armoured citizens and soldiers who have died defending Ponyville." The head blacksmith wiped his greasy hooves on his apron and waved Ralf and the CmCs toward the town square. A mare with a coat of deep gray brushed her jet black mane over her shoulder and picked up what Ralf inferred was a giant vielle or hurdy-gurdy. She batted her soft beautiful purple eyes and the archer and blew the archer a kiss. The pious Englishman immediately crossed himself and tore his gaze from the musician. She teasingly shook her head before picking up her 'bow'. She played the giant vielle, dragging the bowstring back and forth on the vielle's thick strings, creating a soft and mournful trailing sound that touched even the most stoic and emotionless of stallions. Many gathered Ponyville residents began to weep. The solemness settled like a thick fog, nopony spoke. Ralf crossed himself once again and began to pray for the brave and steadfast but unfortunate civilians and stallions-at-arms killed in the fierce fighting just two days ago. > 14 We're ready, you green-skinned bastards! > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Two days of rest followed the funeral, to give the residents ample time for grieving. Ralf took the time to further acquaint himself with the ponies. He now shared Applebloom's room, much to the small filly's dismay and annoyance. Thankfully they stayed out of each other's way as often as possible. Terence, with his armour pieces and equipment, had the more spacious guest room to himself. He spent the second day shooting with the new sheaf of arrows the blacksmiths had given him. Meanwhile able colts and stallions spent the day pulling on mail and putting on helms and bascinets. Pegasi picked crossbows up, spanning them in mid air and practising on dead logs laid out as targets. Ralf ceased practice in the evening to help out. Almost immediately after the short break however, a smaller skirmishing band of Orcs had come to harass the defiant town. They brought imps too, grotesque winged , red-skinned child-sized creatures. They resembled Orcs, but were much less bulky and a lot more agile. They darted and swooped through the air, wielding small shortswords that they flicked through the air. The flying bastards sped toward Ponyville, but this time the vigilant inhabitants were prepared. A luminescent green Pegasus spotted the invaders, rang the alarm bell before sliding a hoof into the stirrup of the crossbow and spanning it. He slapped a bolt into the groove and took aim. Several of his peers followed suit. The first imps to reach the city were cut down by a salvo of bolts. The surviving imps screeched a warning to their comrades, who flew in a zig-zag toward the Pegasi. "It's got me!" Rainbow Dash yelled as an imp tackled her. They struggled in midair. The imp swung his shortsword, the weapon bouncing clumsily off Rainbow's mail. She rammed a hoof into the imp's guts, causing the imp to reel back and double over. Rainbow advanced,snatching the imp's left wing. With all the strength she could muster she swung the imp and smashed the red-skinned bastard into a nearby building. She released the imp and he groggily fell out of the air. Ralf watched, slack-jawed. What fascinated and awed him was all this had happened in midair. Rainbow looked down upon the archer and gave him a smirk that obviously told him to match the feat. The cyan mare was suddenly interrupted by a fledged spear speeding through her mane, missing the top of her unhelmeted head by mere hairs. All around her the crossbow-pegasi dodged and shoved and shot at the still attacking imps. On the ground the orcs had come into the city once more, and were stopped in their tracks by a two-hundred strong combined unit of Royal stallions-at-arms and militia, led by Terence. They cut down the disorganised orcish advance and routed the main Orcish infantry in just eight minutes. Orc bodies were scattered all around the edge of town. Terence waved off his only casualty, a colt militia with a fractured left forehoof and two snapped ribs. Mare and filly nurses gingerly laid the soldier into a cart and took him off to the doctor's. Rainbow dash sped a bolt toward the spear-thrower, forcing him to duck for cover before swooping down and stabbing him through the chest with her dagger. Ralf joined the Earth Ponies levied into the miltia as crossbowmen, pouring missile upon missile upon the Orc infantry line which had regathered and now charged into the Pony again. This time the pitifully thin Orcish infantry line were mercilessly decimated by both Terence's infantry with the missile troops lending support from the flanks. The spear-throwers, less tough than the infantry, routed at the sight of the Orcish warriors slaughtered to the last man. They sprinted back into the relative safety of the Everfree forest, with a handful of fatally wounded imps in tow, still pounded by insults and taunts from the victorious Ponies. Ralf had been told that the only casualty sustained was an adolescent militiaman, who escaped death at the price of a few broken bones. Wiping the sweat off his brow and face, he looked proudly at the small assembled army of levy troops and Royal Equestrians. He began to treasure this town, and made a silent vow to fight for it and its inhabitants or very well die trying. > 15 First Strike > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ralf was jolted from his thoughts by the sudden sound of thundering hooves. The Ponies were pursuing the routing Orcs. He perked up and ran after them, barely just managing to catch up. The Orcs had led them into the Everfree forest, deep into the forest into a small clearing. Orcish deep-red and black banners hung on poles topped with skulls. The routing orcs turned to face the Pony army. A spear-thrower drew a horn and blew three long blasts. The Orcs braced their weapons. The Ponies did the same. Terence adjusted an espalier. For a few seconds the two forces faced each other. The ground began to shake. A gigantic grass-covered trapdoor opened and slammed on the ground. The open door revealed a murky blackness from which fresh Orc warriors swarmed out to reinforce their beaten and injured comrades' lines. The Pony army recoiled, clearly demoralised at the sight of an army nearly ten times their size. "Run." Twilight whispered. The Ponies galloped for their lives, with the two humans trailing behind. They tracked their way back to Ponyville, where they sat, rested, and waited for the Orcs. No massive Orc army came. The Mane Six worriedly gathered at Sweet Apple Acres again, where another meeting was held, this time with the Militia commander, Sir Lionheart. Lionheart had agreed to call for help from other settlements all over Ponyville. A fresh batch of Royal Equestrian Spear-Stallions teleported into Ponyville. Lionheart waved them toward the town square before continuing the discussion. Meanwhile the smithy overclocked, producing crossbows and arbalests and a surprisingly quick rate of four a minute. Bolts went for twelve a minute. Lionheart had proposed to them to re-organise the army, with health screenings and all. This way all stallions-at-arms would be at the standard desired physique and ditto the crossbow-ponies and arbalists. By the next week the army was more or less balanced out, with units marching in from Appleloosa, Manehatten and the Crystal Empire, where their elite infantry units were most valued. Nearly all of the Appleloosians, who were mostly Earth Ponies, had immense strength, but the strength they possessed was nearly quadruple the strength of an average Earth Pony. Spending their entire lives on applebucking and tough farm work, they could bend steel bars and smash sturdy oak doors with ease. The Appleloosians were all sent straight to the infantry lines at first glance. The Manehatten citizens took up mostly the crossbow-pony units, with a few stronger ones being arbalists. The Crystal Empire had powerful magi. Twilight went straight to the magi units, with Rarity barely passing the test. Rainbow Dash, much to her disappointment, stayed as an arbalist. The timid Fluttershy promptly opted out of the crossbow-pony units to work for the hospital. Her appeal was accepted, to her massive relief. Applejack, at first glance, went straight into the infantry. Pinkie went straight into infantry as well. The gathered force now numbered twelve thousand, barely matching the amount of warriors fighting in the Orcish army that ambushed the much smaller force previously. Dozens of Pony units now stood proud in thick lines, proud banners of their hometown flying in the strong wind. Plate and mail shone, and weapons gleamed in the sunlight. > 16 Assault on Stonebrad Part One > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The formidable and proud army marched back into the Everfree forest toward the clearing, following the hoofprints left behind from their last disastrous visit. The Orcs had erected a crude raised platform as a watchtower, from which Orc spotters pointed fingers at the approaching Pony Army and blew horns of alarm. The massive trapdoor flew open again. Lines of unprepared Orc warriors pushed and shoved amongst themselves, eager to engage their Pony and Human counterparts in battle. They stampeded out of the tunnel and threw themselves upon the raised blades of the Pony army. The Crossbow-ponies and magi ran toward the sides, preferring to rain death upon the enemy flanks than face the brutal warriors head on. Ralf followed the tide of moving soldiers and pushed toward the front of the missile unit lines. A punch landed on his shoulder, a gentle punch. Ralf turned to see Rainbow Dash clutching an arbalest in one hoof. "Hey," Rainbow Dash gave Ralf a winning smile. Ralf gave her a nod of acknowledgement and nocked an arrow. He watched Rainbow Dash hoof-span the big crossbow with ease and insert a quarrel into the groove. Ralf turned back and began to draw, his eyes concentrated on a particularly large Orc roaring and twirling a flail over his scarred and ugly head. He inched the bow a notch upwards, and loosed. He heard a chorus of 'thwacks' and saw the Orc lines diminish under the deadly hail of projectiles. On the left Orcish flank Magi horns sizzled and spat and released burning magical balls, cooking the Orcs alive, burning the flesh to the bone.In less than half an hour the Orc welcome committee had been decimated. The Ponies marched in toward the tunnel. Ralf flexed his arms and watched. He jumped up and surprise as several Stallions-at-arms staggered backward, some being thrown off their hooves. At a closer glance Ralf noticed the rocks clanging against their armour. A few words of command were heard, and the Stallions-at-arms withdrew. The missile units were instead sent forth. Ralf marched with his unit toward the entrance, nodding at Applejack, who had a large dent in her bronze tinted breastplate. Applejack tipped her ever-present hat at him. Ralf's unit then stopped just outside the tunnel, where a few more Stallions-at-arms still staggered out. They stumbled toward their respective units. "Go, go, go! Clear the tunnels with your missile weapons! In you go!" The missile units commander shouted at them. The Crossbow-ponies and Magi hesitated. Ralf looked back at the commander. "I said go! So GO! Her Royal Highness ain't payin' us by the hour!" The commander screamed, shoving a few unfortunate nearby crossbow-ponies forward. Ralf ran in. Almost instantaneously, Orcs wielding slings launched rocks at Ralf, the primitive projectiles bouncing off his mail and tunic. He fell backward onto the crossbow-ponies behind. "Gotcha." An arbalist pushed him back up. Ralf yelled a thanks and charged at the slingers, followed closely by the crossbow-ponies. He slung the bow, meanwhile unslinging his pollaxe in the swift motion. He jabbed with the spear point, causing an Orc to jump back or lose his gonnards. The crossbow-ponies drew broadswords and maces and daggers, joining in the fray. They overwhelmed the narrow tunnel, flooding the cavern with gleaming mail and weapons. An Orc, his face painted red with war-paint, swung an empty sling at Ralf. The piece of leather-weighted cloth wrapped itself around Ralf's pollaxe. The Orc pulled, sending the pollaxe spinning out of Ralf grasp. The greenskin caught the pollaxe in his hand and spun it around to point at Ralf. The archer kicked at the Orc, sending him back a few paces. Ralf advanced, but was stopped by a clumsy pollaxe swing to his hip. A few broken links of mail fell out from under his tunic and clinked on the cold stone floor. Ralf's left hand automatically went to his hip. To his relief, there was no fracture nor serious injury.The Orc swung again. This time Ralf had the mind to duck, causing the burly warrior to bury the pollaxe blade in a supporting timber. Ralf jumped at the opportunity, balling his right fist tight and punching the Orc in the face. Blood snaked down and out the Orc's nostrils, and the Orc went limp, knocked out cold by the frantic blow. Meanwhile all around Ralf the crossbow-ponies were waging their own battles fighting Orcs who jumped at them from all sides in a vain effort to hold the line. They pushed the Orcs back even deeper, allowing space for Terence to send in a few Stallions-at-arms. The tunnel ended in a junction, where cages of imps were piled high and weapons strewn about. Ralf picked up a dull shortsword and looked at the fork in the junction. The Ponies hesitated and stopped, wondering where to go, for the fork split into four different passages, all labelled with incomprehensible Orcish runic carvings. > 17 Assault on Stonebrad Part Two > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- A draught of cold air issued forth, chilling the gathered soldiers to the bone. Ralf examined the sword, feeling its cold steel blade. It was fairly well-sharpened, and looked rather sturdy. He looked back at the fork in the tunnel, not knowing what to do. "Just split yourselves up, balance of infantry and missile units. Go." The commander's voice echoed from the far back of the cave, Ralf followed the sudden press of moving soldiers into the second tunnel. The second tunnel reeked of burning sulfur and cinnamon. The Stallions-at-arms marched forward, ahead of the missile units. The magi shuffled after Ralf and the crossbow-ponies. The tunnel wound, deeper down into the ground and ended in a room no smaller than the Ponyville Town Hall's announcement area. Bookshelves lined one of the walls, with a few books scattered about their dusty compartments. In a middle of the stone floor was a circle drawn in what seemed to be blood. The circle was quartered down the middle, much like a Viking era shield without its boss. A careless mage strode toward the shelves and picked up a book. He leafed through the book, and was surprised at the empty yellowed pages. He looked as if about to say something before suddenly letting out a blood curdling scream. The book had grown black thorned vines out of its spine and had now wrapped itself around the unlucky mage's forehoof. The mage frantically pulled the book off, scratching his arm terribly in the process, and threw down the red covered tome. The book levitated in the air for about a dozen heartbeats. All the while the gathered Stallions-at-arms, crossbow-ponies and magi stood rooted to the ground, shocked and fearful of this new sight. The other books rose out of their shelves, hovering out of their wooden holders. With the first hovering book, they formed an outer ring around the drawn circle in the ground. The Ponies gasped and quivered in sheer terror, to scared to move, as the books now began to slowly spin, starting to glow a dull bloody crimson. The smell of sulfur and cinnamon grew ever stronger, threatening to choke the soldiers, except they were too fearful to even draw in air into their quaking lungs and chilled body. The books revolved slowly for a dozen more heartbeats before disappearing into a thick black inpenetrable mist that quickly swirled and materialised into black and red cloaked figures. At a closer glance one could make out the muscular features of an Orc under the cloaks and make out their telltale tusks jutting from their ugly dark-green lips, half hidden by the hooded cloaks. The cloaked Orcs raised their arms, tattooed nearly black with more Orcish runes. Bronze bracers protected their stocky wrists. The Orcs opened their eyes, unlike the regular white black and brown eyes most Orcs possessed, their enitre eyes burned a brilliant demonic red, it was as if their eyeballs of flesh were replaced with nothing but demonfire, the small flames lighting up the rest of their grim features. The fearsome new cloaked figures turned toward the gathered force and pointed fingers tipped with long black fingernails at the force. Sickly green fireballs issued forth from their green fingers and the first line of infantry vanished into grey ash. The Unicorn magi, sensing demonic magic at work, shoved their way to the front, blasting brilliant purple and blue bolts back at the cloaked Orcish warlocks. A couple warlocks caught the arcane bolts, disappearing into molten flesh and ash. The surviving warlocks ducked and dodged and rolled, speeding bolts of demonfire back at the stoic and valiant magi. Five of the warlocks broke ranks and formed another circle, raising their arms and chanting quickly. They chanted unnoticed amidst the frantic firefight that went on in the cavern. The Stallions-at-arms hung back, their melee weapons useless in missile combat. The crossbow-ponies, however, lent support, shooting over the heads of magi at the warlocks, whom numbered just thirty or so. Victory seemed certain. The five unnoticed warlocks finished their chant and retracted their muscular arms. They drew in breath and let out a huge roar that shook the whole cavern, now filled with magical bolts, arrows and bolts alike. The cavern floor between the five warlocks cracked and shuddered. A red skinned fist broke through the floor, and up rose the rest of the arm. The owner of the arm had turned out to be an eight-foot-tall bulky beast. In its clawed hands it clutched a monstrous broad-bladed battleaxe. The monster turned its head, adorned with two long horned on either side of its foreheads and drew in a deep breath. It exhaled, releasing steam through its huge nostrils, decorated with a highly polished nose-ring. The monster took a look at the gathered Pony army, its eyes burning a brilliant yellowish-orange. It narrowed its eyes, glaring at the frightened soldiers. "Did.... Th-the Orcs j-j-just... Summon a D-D-DAEMON??" A magi barely whispered. Ralf crossed himself and nocked another arrow. > 18 Assault on Stonebrad Part Three > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ralf began to draw the bow, bring his string fingers the full yard journey past his ear. The broadhead slid back, the back of the arrowhead threatening to prick into the archer's finger. He narrowed his eyes and loosed, sending the arrow burying itself into the hulking crimson monster's thigh. The broad arrowhead peeped out from the back of his now bleeding thigh. The daemon fell to his knees, causing the cavern floor to quake. He turned his horned head towards Ralf, who now nocked another arrow. His flaming yellow eyes narrowed and he got up, marching toward the archer, batting and swatting off anypony that got in his way. Within a few stride he had reached Ralf, still at half-draw. The unfortunate English archer was snatched up from the ground and flung into a corner of the cavern where he lay, unconscious. His yew bow snapped back into position, sent its arrow spinning crazily into the musty cavern air and clattered onto the floor. The daemon roared and made his way to the archer, not finished with his torture. He swiveled in the direction of the archer. Turning his back to the massed crossbow-ponies. Bolts whistled through the air, making the fatally short twenty pace journey into the daemon's back. The bolts embedded themselves in the daemon's massive back with the meat-axe sound of the mini-arrows punching through flesh and bone. The daemon turned again, back bristling with fledged bolts. He looked like a gargantuan red porcupine. The daemon screamed at the crossbow-ponies, the noise like steel grinding against steel. By now most of the Orcish warlocks either lay bludgeoned to death or in pieces. A stallion-at-arms took the opportunity of the daemon's rage to run him through with his broadsword, ending the daemon's wretched life. Ralf and a few other casualties were carried out by the later arriving medical units. Rainbow Dash watched as the human was carted out with his bow and arrows bouncing along inside the cart. She dismissed the worry and re-spanned her arbalest, laying her seventh bolt into the groove. ****************************************************************************************************************************************************** While the other tunnels had entire balanced-out teams to clear them, Terence went with part of an 'Elite Equestrian Knights' unit. Unlike other heavy infantry units, which had sixty or more men, this unit had only twelve including Terence himself. Also unlike most heavy infantry-stallions, who were armoured mostly in mail and supplemented in plate, the Elite Knights were armoured in full gilded plate armour, impervious to pretty much anything. The Elite Knights had proven themselves deadly, fighting their way deep into Orc territory. In the time it took a normal stallion-at-arms to strike a blow, Terence and his Knights gave two. Although lacking the sheer brute strength of a longbowman, they were fast, agile and dispatched Orc warriors in less than ten seconds flat. Although the longbowman was the strongest man in an English army, his back was bent backwards, his spine resembling the bow he drew. His chest bulged, his arms were enormous and rock hard. But this made it hard, sometimes painful for archers to duck fully and move with the flexibility Terence and his Knights managed even in full plate. Terence dismissed the thought and moved forward, after fighting his way through nearly a hundred Orcs and four of what his Knights called "daemons", all there was left to do was to plant the quartered Equestrian and English banner and claim this Orc territory their own, driving the Orcs deeper into the forest and soon far away from Ponyville. ****************************************************************************************************************************************** Ralf awoke in the Ponyville hospital, surrounded by crisp white sheets. He lay on a weird metal-framed white bed. The metal felt light to touch. Definitely not steel nor iron, he thought. The bed was made of a springy material that wasn't as itchy as the straw pallets he was used to sleeping on. Recalling what happened, he immediately sat up and felt all over for injuries. So far nothing, except for serious bruising on his back and *ahem* posterior. He was no longer dressed in his mail and tunic, but was clothed in a drab green stiff cloth of an unfamiliar fiber. Rainbow Dash sat in a corner, clutching his bow. She quizzically cocked her head, looking at the simple weapon. She curled a hoof around the bowstring, and drew. The bowstring went back a hoof's breadth. Rainbow Dash's slender frame quivered with the effort, much to the bemusement of Ralf. She turned her rainbow-maned head at the archer, her face forming into a heart-meltingly adorable pout. She stood up and continued to draw the bow, grunting with the effort. Her bright purple eyes narrowed, her furry cyan cheeks puffing out. The bow quivered, and began to bend. The bowstring crept to half-draw, by this time the athlete's entire body was quivering. Her posture is wrong, Ralf thought to himself. Rainbow Dash gritted her teeth and invested one last ounce of strength. Still the length of yew and string refused to budge. Ralf resisted the urge to strangle her for butchering the use of a longbow and held his hand out for the bow. Rainbow thrust the weapon into his hand, clearly frustrated. She sat back down, panting. "Watch, Rainbow, and learn." Ralf said. He nocked an arrow and began to draw the bow, still standing upright. He pulled the string, the tension in the bow increasing. The stave and string threatened to spring back into position. This would cause a premature release. Ralf leant into the bowstave like a teenage pony would a wall with one hoof. With his right hand he pulled the string back and sat into the draw, like a pony half-sitting in an attempt to pull a heavy load with his forehooves. The bow dipped slightly with the lean and rose back into position after Ralf sat into the draw. His chest widened with the action. A lifetime of doing this had given his the muscles and body stature required to pull a bow of such poundage. The bowstring fingers went all the way back a full yard past his right ear. Ralf couldn't loose an arrow in a hospital, so he slowly released his pull and let the bow creep back into position. It had taken twelve long years to accomplish that simple action. "I-I'll just stick to the ah.. Crossbow." Was all Rainbow Dash could say.