Lightning Jumper hated early mornings. Being one of Saint Trottersburg's weather managers was a more comfortable job than fighting for one of the house armies but it was still hard work. Long hours, low pay, and small staff pushed the small weather team to their limits most weeks.

This morning was no different. Light showers for some of the farm lands just north of the city throughout the day. Preferably without many thunderstorms. That meant rounding up as many rain clouds as possible to spread out over more than thirty miles of farm land.

And sure enough Lightning Jumper had drawn the short straw requiring him to grab some off shore rain clouds.

It could have been worse he assumed, as he flew towards the coast. He could have been patrolling for cult activity, or keeping an eye on things in the refugee quarter, or really anything that might involve somepony shoving a blade into the back of his head. Still off shore clouds smelled of salt and were often a little more unpredictable than normal clouds.

Still he liked the sea air, and watching the waves rise up against the shore line. It was almost relaxing compared to the hectic life on the land. Sometimes he wondered if he could raise enough money to get the hay out of Equestria and find somewhere that wasn't caught in a massive civil war. Maybe Mustangia, or Saddle Arabia.

He soon reached the beach and sure enough a few heavy looking clouds were waiting for him. He took a deep breath of the clean air before he sped towards the first cloud and got in behind it. It wasn't hard to give it a good enough push to get going on its way inland so he moved quickly to the next one.

Just as he was sending a third rain cloud on its way he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He paused in his work and squinted at it, the morning sun causing some difficulty.

It looked like a ship.

That wasn't as odd as could be. Saint Trottersburg's trade may have dried up for the most part but it was still a good supply point. Merchants, travelers, privateers, and pirates might stop in the port for supplies.

The closer he looked the more detail he got however. The ship had only a single mast and a high prow. Not a trading vessel and not likely travelers. In fact it looked a bit like the Longboats used by the Nhorse Ponies who fought for House Stormwing.

What are they doing out here though? Lightning Jumper wondered. The Nhorse usually kept to the rivers rather than the open seas. Plus the ship was coming from the east and the Sea of Harmony. Then he realized something else was wrong with it.

It was to big to be a Nhorse longboat. Easily double a Nhorse longboats size.

That tore it for Lightning Jumper.

Abandoning his cloud he sped back towards Saint Trottersburg hoping against hope he could make it in time and that he was just seeing things in the sun glare.

MLP: ED

The Graybolt had become a frenzy of activity as soon as the Armada had sighted land. Ardon's Scout force was scrambling to make ready for battle; securing their packs, sharpening their weapons, donning their armor, applying war paint to exposed flesh, and of course praying and or drinking. The tension was so great it could snap the Long ship in half.

The plan had been laid out before they had set out from the North. Ardon's crew would scout the land, find a suitable landing site for the armada, and eliminate any opposition that tried to stop them. The rest of the armada would hang back waiting for the all clear or would leave if five hours passed without any signals being sent up.

Two beacons of dried timbers had been prepared for usage during the mission both of them enchanted by Dökkálfar and Sindarla Sorcerers to burn a different color that would be visible from miles away. The first beacon would burn white, signalling that reinforcements were needed. A second Long ship would be ready with a fresh group of troops. The second beacon would burn red and signal the Armada that the landing site had been secured and it was time to invade.

The point was to be stealthy, avoid a fight unless absolutely necessary. Absolutely necessary meant if they were discovered in which case they were to leave no survivors. Standard procedure for Nor Menn scouts. Of course what weighed on their minds most as they drew near to the sandy beach ahead of them was not the threat of discovery but of an ancient curse all Menn knew of and feared.

It was said that long ago when the the ponies had conquered the ancient empire and exiled the races of menn the ponies enacted a terrible curse to keep them out. It was said that should any more than fifty men set foot on Equestria a great tempest would rise up from the sea, like the great storm of old that scattered them to the winds. This storm however would ravage the world, obliterating every last human in the world until the all were drowned and dead.

Now Ardon and his warriors were about to put ancient pony magic to the test with seventy five menn.

"Steady lads!" Lethrook called, his voice shaking slightly. "The gods sent us on this mission. They wouldn't lead us to doom."

Small comfort that was as they drew up closer to the beach.

The beach they had chosen has about half a mile of open sand with high sharp cliffs on its southern side. Likely seventy yards of sandy beach eventually gave way to a rise upon which forest trees could be seen. It wouldn't do for the whole armada but for a single Long ship it was more than enough space.

They entered the shallows the hull of the Long ship beginning to rub up against the sand. They were less than fifty yards from the beach now and the water was only about five feet deep below them. When they hit three feet the oars were striking sand. Twenty yards to the beach.

Ardon strode up to the dragon shaped prow and could feel the eyes of his men upon him. He stripped off his cloak and set his weapons aside before dropping into the cold waters with a loud plop. One man was not enough to break the ban it appeared.

"Oarsmen," he ordered, "help me get this thing to the beach."

Tentatively the oarsmen, who wore little or no armor dropped into the water with him. They secured ropes onto the hull and pulled as the surf pushed them closer to shore. At two feet more warriors jumped out and helped; Neratha, Lethrook, and Bilke among them.

"Heave!" Ardon called and they pulled as one. One foot deep. "Heave!" Half a foot. "Heave!" Three inch deep. "Heave!"

With one final tug the long ship was on the beach. Its crew of seventy five along with it.

Everyone froze, looking up at the sky, listening to the wind.

Nothing happened.

Several the rest of the scout force in the long ship hopped out onto the beach. Seventy six menn were on equestria for the first time in over a thousand years.

Nothing happened.

Ardon turned to the forest rise to their west. No one was there.

There was not cataclysm, no regiments of armored ponies waiting for them. There was nothing.

He knelt down to the sand and scooped a handful of the stuff into his palm. He rose and stared at for a moment. He had a piece of Equestria, the forbidden land of his ancestors, in the palm of his hand and he still lived.

He couldn't help it. A grin spread across his face and he began to laugh. About him the rest of his scouting force was following suit. Some were laughing, others dancing, a few prayed, one of them was practically crying. Jubulation and confidence swelled with in them.

The Ban held no power over them!

As soon as Ardon stopped laughing however it was time to get down to business.

"Alright you whoresons!" He shouted collecting his sword, cloak, and bow from the boat, tucking a leather iron studded and rimmed helm under his arm. "Get your gear and get ready to move out! Oarsmen mind the boat, see anything on four legs you kill it!"

The Nor Menn cheered their approval and recovered their gear from the the long ship. Bows were strung and ready, swords drawn, axes were in hand, and shields strapped into place. Ardon's force of sixty five was ready to move in minutes.

They started simple, fanning out along the beach looking for a path to follow. That did not take them very long at all. Neratha quickly located a decent sized path into the forest and deeper inland. Ardon gave her a solid pat on the back for that.

They assumed a lose formation as they climbed the rise up to the forest. Wanderers and Clan Hunters keeping to the edges while the Raiders and Axe Throwers took the center. Ardon took his place right at the front of the party.

What Ardon noticed immediately however as they entered the forest was how quiet it all was. It wasn't as thick and messy as the old forests he'd spent his life traipsing through from one place to the next. It was to tidy; little brush was on the ground, there were almost no fallen branches, and he couldn't hear any animal sounds. It felt so... unnatural.

"This place is strange," Fealen one of the Sindarla clan hunters all but whispered. "Everything is to ordered, to clean."

"Reminds me a bit of Prance," Lethrook replied. "We must be near a village or some farm lands. Ponies like it all neat and tidy."

"Keep it down," Ardon hissed. "We're supposed to be avoiding attention."

Then the Nor Menn rounded a bend in forest path and came to a sudden halt. Ardon gave a small sigh and put a hand to his face, trying to hid his annoyance.

"Sorry boss," Lethrook muttered.

"Bit late for that," Ardon growled.

Staring at them, gawking in disbelief were about twenty ponies. Most wore little in the way of armor, padded shirts by the looks of it. No one had a helmet, and the standard weapon appeared to be crude short spears.

Only one of them broke this mold. He (or at least Ardon assumed it was he, he could never tell with ponies) wore a wide brimmed hat, a heavy padded canvas vest with a star shaped piece of metal on it, and padded canvas guards on his (again assuming it was a he) legs. A strange metal objected was hanging from a pouch on his (again assuming it was a he) side. Opposite of this pouch was a wooden truncheon.

Most notable however was that this pony had a noticeable horn sticking out of a hole in his hat. A unicorn, which Ardon knew meant this pony could use magic. Extra caution had to be applied.

The unicorn was the first of the ponies to recover his wits.

"Alright I got two questions for you bunch. Who and what are you?" He (yet again assuming it was a he) said in Equestriain. Ardon was glad for Wernestel's lessons and book now.

"Explorers," Ardon answered back in Equestriain.

"And who might you be exploring for?" The Unicorn demanded.

"Our King," Ardon replied truthfully.

"And who might this King be?" The Unicorn demanded.

"King Rhaegarstar Dragonsfury," Ardon answered motioning with one hand for his force to spread out. The Ponies noticed this and stiffened, some raising their spears others looking ready to bolt. "King of the Nor Menn and King on the Frozen Throne."

At the word menn the ponies eyes widened in alarm and they started whispering among themselves. The Unicorn silenced them with a hard look.

"Well you can tell your King, that Sheriff Silverstar says to leave these lands in peace," the Unicorn said. "We've enough trouble in these parts."

"I am afraid that is not possible," Ardon said. "Our King says we're hear to stay."

"What do you mean by that?" The Unicorn asked wearily. Ardon knew the Sheriff was onto them.

"Well he thought this place would make a fine summer home," Ardon said trying to sound nonchalant.

"I'm giving you one warning," the Sheriff said as his horn glowed. The metal object in the pouch at his side floated into the air. A short thin tube was pointed in Ardon's general direction. "Go back to your boat and go home."

"I am afraid we cannot," Ardon replied darkly. "Our home is dead, and so are you."

On cue axes flew through the air from the Axes Throwers and caught five of the closest ponies dead on! They crumpled with only short shrieks of surprise. The Nor Menn surged forward and the ponies began to break and run. The metal object the Sheriff was holding flashed with light and a loud bang was heard. Something flew passed Ardon's ear and ricocheted off one of the Raiders iron rimmed round shields.

The Nor Menn carved into the ponies closest to them with axes and swords. The ponies didn't even try to fight back beside the Sheriffs failed attack. Ardon's sword sheered through the light armor of one pony, laying open the screaming stallion's back. Within half a minute seventeen ponies were dead or dying on the ground with not even single bruise for the Nor Menn. The Sheriff however was bolting down the path with the three survivors.

"After them!" Ardon shouted.

"So much for stealth," Lethrook quipped as they tore down the path after the ponies.

The Nor Menn were fast on their feet, quick enough to usually catch most pony warriors. These Ponies however knew the layout of the land and had spurring them on. One hapless pony tripped on a root and fell. A moment later Bilke had split the unlucky sods skull with his axe.

Still this momentary distraction had allowed the Ponies to gain a significant lead on the Nor Menn. Ardon muttered a curse under his breath as they rounded another turn and found themselve approaching what looked like a few farms in a clearing. He could see the Sheriff and hear him shouting the alarm.

About thirty more ponies scrambled out of homes, most with little armor on like the initial party. Most had the same short spears as the previous group but others had long shafts of wood and metal that they were scrambling to set up. Ardon guessed they were similar weapons to the one the Sheriff had tried to use against him.

Before the Ponies could fire off a shot however more figures dressed in black masks and wearing light armor poured out of the woods to the south. There were about fifteen of them. Most had knives or black jacks in their teeth or tied to their tails. Without warning they surged into the hastilly assembled defenders and cut several down.

"Sack the place you mules!" Ardon heard one shout. "Easy pickings!"

"I think they're bandits boss," Lethrook observed.

"I don't care what they are," Ardon replied as he saw the Sheriff slip around the bandits down a path leading south. "Kill 'em quick!"

The Clan Hunters opened the fight for the Nor Menn sending a shower of arrows into the clashing ponies. Several
ponies on both sides dropped before the Nor Menn charged in, Axe Throwers tossing their tools of death into the thrashing mass.

Just before the Nor Menn engaged one of the defending ponies with one of the wood and tube weapons took aim at them and fired. There was another flash and a bang, then a Raider, Nem as Ardon recalled, gave a cry and crumpled blood pouring from a hole just above his heart. An arrow from Neratha avenged the fallen Raider as the Nor Menn tore into their foes.

It was just as brutally quick as the previous fight. The Militia crumpled often from single blows by the Nor Menn while the Bandits put up a slightly better fight. The Bandits however were clearly not prepared to fight armored Nor Menn with axes and quick enough most were running, and fast. Arrows and throwing axes peppered the fleeing bandits dropping most of them.

"What do we do 'bout Nem boss?" Lethrook asked.

"Leave him for now," Ardon replied. "We can't let any pony escape us."

The Nor Menn trundled on and soon enough came upon yet another cluster of homesteads and farms not far away. Unlike the previous batch these ponies had some time to organize. Ten more of the ones with the metal tubes and another twenty with spears were waiting for them.

"Get down!" Ardon shouted just as the ones with the tubes took aim.

The Nor Menn dropped just as the volley was fired. The shots whizzed over their heads into the woods. The Nor Menn rose back up again and the Clan hunters answered with a volley of their own. The Ponies had cover however and only about half the arrows hit their marks.

With nothing else for it the Nor Menn charged in roaring out battle cries and waving their weapons. The Clan Hunters covered them with another volley while the Axe Throwers tossed their deadly missiles into the enemy, thinning them out a bit more. They clashed with the Militia just as the second volley was fired. Three more Nor Menn crumpled, one Axe Thrower and two Raiders.

The Nor Menn savaged their foes eager to avenge their comrades. The ponies had little experience with their weapons and their flimsy equipment could not stand up to Nor Menn mail and hardened leather. The Ponies dropped like flies, the Nor Menn ganging up on and overwhelming them with furious blows.

Just as Ardon split the skull of the last survivor with his sword he heard a small cough. Looking up from the corpse of his fallen foe he saw another group of bandits standing there starring at them. They seemed rather perturbed by what they had just witnessed.

"So..." The closest one started. "We're just going to go now..."

The Nor Menn charged temporarily forgetting the pursuit of the Sheriff to attack these no foes. The Bandits turned tail (literally) and bolted down a path leading west, the Nor Menn hot on their heels. Axes and arrows peppered the Bandits rear dropping a few of them.

The stupid ponies lead the Nor Menn into a small clearing with tents, barrels of drink and food, chests of coins, and a few more of their lot. The idiot bandits had lead the Nor Menn straight to their camp.

The Nor Menn punished them for their idiocy with axes, swords, arrows, and a lot of blood.

"Somebody remember this spot!" Lethrook called as they turned to leave the now corpse ridden camp. "There's some nice loot here."

"Back after the Sheriff," Ardon ordered. "He can't have gotten far."

The Nor Menn backtracked to the farms and found another path which lead east towards the shore line. Judging from the tracks on the ground it was recently used by someone or some pony moving in a great hurry.

"This way!" Ardon barked. "We cannot fail the King."

"Why is that?" Lethrook asked.

"Because if we do fail him, at best we die," Ardon replied. "At worst we don't get any ale for the next twenty years."

This horrible thought spurred the Nor Menn on down the path. Ardon could feel his lungs burning with exhaustion and his feet begining to ache after so long with out use only to be thrown into a chase.

"Incoming!" A Wanderer called out.

Ardon dove to the ground just in time as something exploded above him. He felt something small rain on his back and looked up.

Ten pegasus ponies were circling above them dropping or throwing small bombs down onto the Nor Menn. One exploded right next to a Raider and he died with a gurgling shreik of pain as iron nails tore into his face and throat. Another bomb exploded at near waist height for a Wanderer tearing the cloaked warriors chest open.

"Shot them down!" Ardon yelled setting his sword aside in favor of the Longbow. Several Axe Throwers tried to toss their weapons up at the Pegasus ponies only for them to fall back to the ground uselessly.

"How do you like this!" One Pegasus shouted before throwing a bomb at Lethrook. The Raider brought up his shield just in time for it bounce of and explode at the feet of a Clan Hunter. The Sindarla shrieked in pain as she fell her legs blown off at the knees.

Ardon notched an arrow and launched it at the offending Pegasus. His shoot pierced the ponies wing and with a cry it fell to the earth. A vengeful Raider hacked the wounded Pegasi to death with his axe as the Ardon and the Clan Hunters sent deadly arrows flying back at the Pegasi. More bombs fell even as the Pegasi began to drop. An Axe Thrower was killed, along with another Clan Hunter and a Raider.

When the last Pegasus was dead on the ground Ardon did a quick head count and cursed. Nine of his warriors were dead and a few more were injured but still able to fight.

"I hope we don't run into more of those," Fealen commented grimly as they pressed on.

"Some one get the reinforcement beacon ready," Ardon growled as the path turned east. "Wanderers, eyes on the skies."

Thankfully they encountered no more ambushes for some time and soon found themselves on the cliffs they had seen overlooking their original lading sight. Ardon turned his gaze west and cursed. First he saw a much larger beach on the other side of the cliffs, easily large enough for the Armada to make landfall. Second however was a much larger force of Militia assembling. Easily fifty ponies on foot were guarding the point where the beach, the forest, and the path all meet.

"Get the Beacon set up," Ardon ordered. "They've spotted us. Hopefully the reinforcements can flank them."

"And hopefully no more of them damned feathery gits show up," Lethrook growled.

The beacon was quickly set up and within a minute was burning while Ardon formed a hasty defensive position. The Raiders were positioned up front with their shields with the Wanderers and Axe Throwers just behind them. The Clan Hunters he put near to the beacon, with a clear line of fire for the path. Not a moment to soon.

The locals had been reinforced with another twenty Militia and were beginning to advance up the path. It was seventy on fifty six in the ponies favor. Numbers seemed to give the Militia confidence enough to try attacking and Ardon suspected that more Militia and worse more Pegasus forces were on the way.

"Hold you ground lads!" He shouted. "Let's show these fur covered fools how Nor Menn fight!"

The warriors cheered and the archers loosed their first volley. The exposed Militia were packed in so tightly that every shot was a kill or a wound. Bodies tumbled down the slope onto the beach as the mass of ponies advanced, the sand soaking up the fresh blood. Another volley hit the ponies and more dropped but now the Ponies appeared to be inrange to retaliate with their weapons.

Shots flared up and Ardon ducked just in time to avoid a round passing over his head. One Clan Hunter, a pair of Axe Throwers and a Wanderer were not so fortunate. The Clan hunters loosed another withering volley of arrows killing several of the militia's shooters. As dangerous as the knew weapons were Ardon was beginning to pick up on their weaknesses as a fourth arrow volley went out and hit the pony lines.

Then the sight Ardon had feared reached his gaze, ten pegasus ponies were speeding towards them with satchels filled with explosives at their sides. He redirected the next volley of arrows up at them and watched three fall from the sky. The rest however evaded the attack and began to throw charges at Ardon's defenders.

"Shields!" He shouted.

The Raiders brought up their shields and the bombs bounced off them. One exploded in the air, four bounced off shields and rolled down the slopes to explode harmlessly. One land right on an Axes Thrower's head and exploded, killing him and a Wanderer next to him. The last landed right in front of Ardon. Without a second fought he kicked it hard off the cliff and watched it explode in the air.

The Clan Hunters sent another group of arrows at the Pegasus ponies downing four more of them. The lack of armor was causing the ponies to take considerable losses. The remaining three pegasus ponies threw bombs at the Clan Hunters even as the eighth volley picked them out of the sky. One clan hunter dove on one of the bombs, the blast tore him almost in half, splattering gore on their feet. One of the bombs was a dud while the last one bounced right off the cliff.

Before Ardon could relax three Raiders crumpled dead. The militia shooters had gotten off another volley. The Clan Hunters paid them back by wiping them out but the damage was done. The distraction of the pegasus ponies and the shooters had allowed the rest of the Militia to close the distance with the depleted Nor Menn forces.

The Nor Menn Axe Throwers thinned out the first group of Ponies but they were close enough to make an ill disciplined charge. The Nor Menn not to cow away from a fight charged in to meet them head on, swords and axes clashing against spears. Steel Nor Menn weapons carved through the ponies weak armor like a scythe through wheat, the ground quickly becoming splattered with gore and corpses. Still the Ponies were starting to give as good as they got. An Axe Thrower took a spear to the thigh and fell screaming only to get a hoof in his face. A Raider crumpled with a pair of spears in his chest, through his padded and studded leather.

Ardon dived into the fray swinging his bastard sword. He cut down his first opponent with a hard blow to the back of the neck. He dodged a seconds spear thrust before driving the tip of his sword through the ponies large left eye, it screamed in agony until he slashed open its throat with his next blow.

"More come!" Fealen cried out. Sure enough two fresh groups of twenty Militia each along with another ten shooters were advancing up the path.

"Kill their shooters first!" Ardon shouted hewing a pony's head in half.

Arrows whistled passed the thrashing battle line as another raider collapsed with a spear in his face. Ardon swore as he slew another pony. Just how many of them were there and more importantly where were their reinforcements?

As if in answer he heard war cries from below. Backing away from the fray from the moment he looked out and saw another long ship on the shore with a fresh pack of sixty five Nor Men warriors of the same composition of his starting forces charging across the beach. The new Clan Hunters added their arrows to Ardon's own Clan Hunters and ponies began to drop fast.

The ponies suddenly realized they had been out flanked and many began to bolt trying to escape before they were surrounded on two sides. That was what the Nor Menn had been waiting for. They surged forward hacking and slashing at their fleeing foes as the reinforcements gained control of the path. Utterly surrounded some of the militia tried to jump from the cliffs to escape only to fall and injured or kill themselves, those who survived the fall were finished by the new Clan Hunters.

Within minutes every lost one the ponies was dead on the ground. There easily over a hundred and thirty ponies lay dead on the path or on the beach. All at the cost of nine Nor Menn a fourteen to one kill ratio.

It could have been worse, Ardon mused as the warriors worked to clear the dead off the path for use and embraced the newcomers. Those bombs might have blown our lines to pieces without those shields.

Still even with rejuvenated numbers they still had to catch the Sheriff something Ardon quickly explained to the new comers commander. With their objective clear the Nor Menn pressed on passed all the bodies and blood.

They marched back into the forest and soon came upon yet another cluster of farms. Sure enough more ponies were present but there were only twenty of them and they seemed horribly surprised to see the mass of angry Nor Menn coming at them. Several shouted and tried to run only to be slain by arrows while the rest were overwhelmed and cut down by Ardon's warriors.

They advanced on and the path turned east. A minute later they came out clear of the forest at last and found themselves staring across a river at a city with an empty port. The Stone wall surrounding it was in disrepair, in a few places Ardon could see scaffolding and other bits of materials on it where the militia had likely tried to repair the defenses.

"Is that it?" Lethrook asked.

Ardon nodded.

"That's Saint Trottersburg," he replied.

Lethrook nodded.

"Doesn't look so tough."

Ardon frown and looked down at their feet. There many tracks heading back the way they had, come the militia scrambling to defend the city. However another group of tracks were turning south towards the sea and a high cliff.

"The Sheriff went south," Ardon growled.

"How do you figure boss?" Lethrook asked.

"He'd want a place where he could keep an eye on things but still move to stop us," Ardon answered. "We go north towards the crossing and the city and he'd take us from behind."

"So we go south?"

"We go south," Ardon agreed.

Just as he turned south however he froze. There was another path along the side of the main one that rose with the cliffs and was obscured by rocks. Ardon hurried over to it and found fresh hoof prints.

"Clever bastard," Ardon growled.

"What is it?" Lethrook aked.

"This second path?" Ardon said motioning to it. "Likely leads to a position to flank anyone who uses the main path. Perfect for an ambush."

"So let me guess," Lethrook said a small grin crossing his bearded face. "We ambush their ambush?"

"Damned straight," Ardon agreed. "Fealen! Get over here!"

The lead Clan Hunter hurried over to join them.

"Yes sir?" He asked.

"Take your folk up this path along with some of the Wanderers," Ardon ordered. "You see anything you kill it, but quietly as you can."

"They won't hear us coming," Fealen replied with a nod.

With shouted orders the Nor Menn Scouting force split in two. Ardon's group made their way down the path as quick as could be, they had a king waiting on them to kill this damned Sheriff. Ardon didn't want to disappoint the king on his first official mission as Chief Scout.

Sure enough at the end of the rising, sloping, and rocky path was Sheriff Silverstar. He was surrounded by ten nine more dressed and equipped like him. Flanking his group were two more groups of twenty militia looking shaken and scared. Ardon noticed the raised cliff wall over looking the place where the final confrontation would at last occur.

"You murdering dogs," Sheriff Silverstar called, venom in his voice. "What the hay did we ever do to you?"

"Well you did shoot at me," Ardon replied as his group came to a halt less than thirty yards from the Sheriffs force. The Sheriff scowled at him clearly not amused.

"Sorry I missed," he growled. "But this bloodshed ends here and now."

He gave a whistle and twenty shooters emerged from covered positions on the cliff.

"We've got the high ground and superior fire power," the Sheriff explained. "Give yourselves up peacefully and you'll be tried like you were ponies and not murdering brutes."

Ardon grinned.

"Well I must admire your steel Sheriff," he replied. "Murdering brutes though we are, we're smarter than you think."

Arrows whistle from Ardon's immediate left and half the pony shooters cried out in agony as arrows tore into them. The Sheriff looked up in shook as the Fealen's force massacred his support troops. He turned back to face Ardon his face cold and merciless.

"You'll pay for that," he snarled then raised his metal shooting device.

"Charge!" Ardon shouted and the Nor Menn surged forwards.

Axes flew into the pony lines killing many of the Militia and some of the Sheriffs deputies. The Sheriff and his own however fired and seven shots rang out. Once again Ardon avoided the bullet but the Raider behind him was not so lucky. A round bounced off the rim of Lethrook's shield and caught an Axe Thrower in the side of the head. One more Wanderer fell along with two more Raiders before the Nor Menn clashed with their foes once more.

Clan Hunters rained arrows down onto the enemy as Ardon's bastard sword skewered one of the Sheriffs deputies. The Ponies had a determined leader but they were caught in a trap of their own making. The battle was brutal but quick. All of the ponies lay dead except the Sheriff who had two Raiders dead at his hooves.

The Sheriff brandished his firing weapon at the same time as his truncheon which was splattered with blood. The Nor Menn closed in around him but Ardon raised a hand. He alone approached the Sheriff who took aim at him again.

"What do you call that thing?" Ardon asked.

"This?" Sheriff Silverstar replied. "Is my gun. I use it to stop murdering mules like you."

He pulled the trigger with magic.

Nothing happened.

With a curse he tossed the empty weapon aside and brought his truncheon to bear. Ardon frowned at this.

"Come on," the Sheriff snarled. "You won't take Saint Trottersburg by surprise. I've made sure of that. Even if I die here today, I'll have done my duty."

Then Ardon set down his sword and cast aside his bow. Everyone stared at him in confusion as he instead drew a long knife from his boot and brought it to bear in a reversed grip.

"There," he said. "Now we can fight fair."

The Sheriff gave a snort.

"After you," Ardon offered.

The Sheriff charged him bringing his truncheon down in a blow towards Ardon's head. The Wanderer rolled away from the blow then charged the Sheriff, knife ready to strike. Then the Sheriff turned around raised his hind legs and kicked Ardon square in the chest. Ardon was knocked to the ground and could feel bruising under his mail and padded leather.

"I'm taking you out if its the last thing I do!" The Sheriff proclaimed charging towards him.

Ardon rolled away from the charge and scrambled to his feet. All eyes were on the two combatants, the human and the unicorn. The Sheriff turned to face him bringing the truncheon back around and swinging it at Ardon. Ardon dodged the attack but lost his balance. When he threw out his left arm to steady himself the Truncheon cam back around and struck his out stretched hand. Ardon cursed as he felt bones break then tackled the Unicorn.

This knocked the two of them to the ground where they thrashed together, Ardon trying to get his knife into stabbing position, Silverstar trying to buck the human off him. The knife slashed the Sheriff's shoulder haunch just before they rolled over onto Ardon's injured hand. He cursed and Silverstar gained the upper hand, getting above the Wanderer and raising his hooves to smash in the human's face! Ardon thrust upwards!

Ardon's knife pierced Silverstar's belly.

The Sheriff's blows missed and he collapsed on top of Ardon, inadvertently driving the knife in deeper. He moaned as Ardon pushed him off and pulled the knife clear. Blood spilled across the ground as Ardon pushed himself up.

Silverstar struggled to stand, so much blood was pouring out of his belly. He panted heavily trying to keep his his balance as his leg grew weaker.

Ardon nursing a his broken hand slowly approached his dying foe.

"You fought well," he said. "I haven't had a fight like that in along time."

"I'm not... I'm not done..." Silverstar growled taking a step forwards only to stumble. Ardon caught him, letting his knife fall to the dirt.

He eased the Sheriff down, his expression somber.

"Find your gods," he said. "They won't be ashamed to have you in their halls."

"My gods?" Silverstar whispered. "My Princesses are gone... my country is dead... you..." His eyes flickered. "You are just the final act."

"Not the final act," Ardon replied. "We're the beginning of something new."

And with that Silverstar's breathing stopped. Ardon rose to his feet slowly, closing the Unicorns eyes. In silence he retrieved his sword, bow, and knife. Then he turned to his warriors who were watching him in silence.

"This one and his died as true warriors," he said. "The dead from this battle no matter which side they fought for will be treated with respect."

Then he turned to look up at Fealen on the cliffs.

"Set up the second beacon and signal the armada," he ordered. "Saint Trottersburg falls before sunset."

He stalked back down the path until he reached the point where he could climb onto the cliffs. He followed the path passing some of the Clan Hunters and Wanderers on their way down. A few looked at him as he passed but he did not notice nor did he care.

(Play

in the background)

By the time he reached the top the beacon had been light and could be seen for miles. As he gazed out towards the east he saw it coming, the awe inspiring mass. Over a thousand ships speeding towards the coastline, with many Caladria, Avariel, and Dökkálfar on Dragonhawks flying above the Armada. At the head was a great Long ship, double the size of the Graybolt. It was the Kings personal Long ship, the Redwrath.

As Ardon watched the first of long ships came up to the shore and disgorged their cargo of hundreds of fresh Nor Menn warriors. Warriors eager to conquer this new land; with steel, fire, and blood.

MLP: ED

"Strange."

"What?"

"I don't remember inviting them."

"Oh well! The more the merrier!"

Mayor Mare bared her now jagged teeth as she watched the massive fleet of ships approach. The city was beginning to panic; the Sheriff was dead, the militia badly under staffed, and a massive fleet from nowhere had just arrived on their door step. For the Cult of laughter, it was time to party.

Author's Note

Oh man this was a monster of a chapter to write and I loved every moment of it. Battle Sequences are something I always enjoy.

Before any gets mad about so many ponies dying hear me out.

1. These weren't the house armies but local militia ergo less training, less organization, weaker armor, poorer quality weapons.
   
2. The Nor Menn are more experienced fighters, they now how to spot and ambush and have better quality weapons and armor.
   
3. The Nor Menn aren't invincible as shown. They are very weak against shooting and air attacks. A shooting air unit as shown is an absolute nightmare.
   
4. The bandits ruined the second pony defense line and the second group of bandits screwed it up even worse.

Anyways next chapter the Nor Menn take on Saint Trottersburg and its dark secrets.

Expect delays from here on out however because this is the last chapter I had prewritten before posting. I'll try to set a good pace from now on however.