Blood of the Umbral Wars

by Bear

Rating: mature
Tags: Adventure, Dark
Length: 1772

History tells not of the atrocities of war in Equestria. In fact, history tells very little of what happened before Luna's imprisonment. It leaves one to wonder, doesn't it?

War is hell, right?
And hell is full of devils and daemons, correct?

Follow Nightlock, a private in the New Lunar Republic's Unicorps program, as he witnesses and partakes in the atrocities that were the Umbral wars. Witness for yourself, the untold story that led up to Luna's banishment.

Feedback is always good.

Warning: Contains scenes of brutal violence, rape, strong language, and the use of alcohol and narcotics. You have been warned.
(Written as a back story to a long-standing RP and OC)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-25 18:40:03 UTC

Prologue

Another blast rocked the walls of the small bunker; dirt and debris falling from the crudely dug out walls and ceiling. The heavy air ran thick with the scent of earth and congealed blood, a testament to the horrors of the war.

That fucking war. It had been going on as long as anypony could remember: The Umbral Wars of Night and Day. The fruitless power struggle between the two alicorn that sat at the head of the equestrian nations. So far, the estimated body count stood well into the millions; making life in equestria much more scarce than the fabled peace times.

A shockwave rippled through the earth around, knocking the pale blue soldier out of his trance. He looked around, trying to remember what he had been doing before he had zoned out. A quick glance down told him all he needed to know, taking the shape of a small white pegasi filly.

“Nightlock, just fucking kill it already! You heard what the orders from HQ were! All solar citizens are to be eradicated from this area. That means the filly, Nightlock. Just snap it’s neck so we can get the hell out of here.” He swallowed hard; biting back the tears that could only belong to a novice soldier. “I’m sorry”. He whispered, inching closer to the wide-eyed foal. “I’m so sorry...”.

A sick crunch told the soldiers that he had succeeded in his grisly task. Heads hung low as they all turned, making their way towards the exit of the small bunker. Nightlock finished heaving his guts up, before turning to join the rest of his squad. The blood-soaked mud underhoof made his stomach turn again, and it was all he could to to keep the remaining contents from creeping back up.

Half a dozen more squads stood to meet them as they crawled from the exit to the tiny bunker; all wearing the signature nightmare-blue armor that was issued to the unicorps of the New Lunar Republic. Weary faces accompanied the bloodied and dirty armor, showing just how hard the soldiers had been run. When at last it was decided that all of the soldiers had made it topside, a large stallion step forward.

“Listen up, colts. We’re pretty fucked from here on out. HQ’s reported sightings of multiple regiments of Goldcloaks and Solaris in the area, and if you recall our orders, we’re the bastards sent to take them out”. He paused for a second, spitting into the mud before clearing his throat and continuing. “There’s word that if we can complete this with minimal casualties, that we’ll be set for Umbra duty, and they’ll send Ursa or Raven in with us when we hit Giant’s Head. Something like that could give our set an edge when they send us in, so we’re going to have to buck the fuck up and get through this, alright?”

He didn’t take much time to collect an answer, instead barking a few orders and mounting up to move out. The sound of two hundred and eighty hooves squelched through the mud, accompanied only by the uniform sound of armor and equipment as they marched forward. The air was stagnant and cold, even with the lack of wind across the field. Private Nightlock shivered underneath his cold mithral armor, shaking his head and quickly trotting to keep up with his comrades.

All around them, the signs and sounds of war were ever-evident. Blood mixed and caked everything that could be seen. It permeated the air and hung about like a sickening fog; choking the soldiers that marched forward through the mud. For these damned souls, there was no alternative.

.

Mo(u)rning.

Nightlock awoke with a lurch; a cold sweat running through his dirty fur. Plagued yet again by another horrid memory of the war, the young soldier was starting to doubt that a restful sleep was even possible. The earth around him shook and quaked; no doubt from one of the many magical mortar shells that the Solari were so fond of using.

Shouting from outside the bunker quickly arose the groggy stallion; a glaive levitated beside him as he quickly made his way up the steps to the outside. Rain pelted down from above, soaking Nightlock the second he found himself topside. The ever present scent of blood and alchemical gunpowder mixed with the sobering scent of rain, turning Nightlock’s stomach as he gazed in awe at the sight before him.

Solari and Goldcloaks could be seen marching in uniform from the edge of the woods, obviously making their way to the clearing that the Lunar Guard had made their camp. Easily numbering in the hundreds, their polished armor and golden weapons were easily visible in the early morning light. Nightlock chuckled to himself as he sprinted quickly to the alarm post; at least they weren’t hard to see. Their pride would be their undoing.

The banshee's wail of the siren cut through the cold morning air; like a bat out of hell, it told the Lunar Guard all that they needed to know. The camp quickly rose to life, the tell-tale clinking of armor and the shuffling of hooves in the dank mud telling Nightlock that he had done his job well. He trotted briskly to the helm of the battalion; His curved blade grinning with an unquenchable thirst for Solar blood.

Another mortar shell hit ground just behind Nightlock, the tiniest bits of shrapnel biting into his unarmored flank. He grit his teeth and shrugged the pain off, shaking his head to clear it of the horrid ringing that came from the sound of the explosion. Nightlock felt a hoof on his side as a medic came quickly to remove the bits of offending metal; only to find himself be pushed back. “There are others who will need help more than I, friend. Be ready for them, and do not worry for the likes of me.”

The air was still for a moment as the Lunar and Solari stood before another; a mere hundred yards separating the two armies. It was clear both armies that the Solari were at a great advantage, their numbers easily triple what the small group of Lunar Guard that had collected in this single camp. Nightlock gritted his teeth and readied his glaive; his magic snaking around the haft of the great weapon.

The roar of soldiers cut through the quiet air as the Solari started their rapid advance, their hooves sloshing through the blood soaked ground. The distinct sound of hundreds of swords being drawn could be heard from across no-man’s land; matched only by the quiet sounds of axes and hafts being readied. The Lunari sat silently for a moment longer, smirking quietly at the advance of their most hated enemy.

As if on queue, explosions rocked the ground underneath the Solari as they made their way through the Lunar minefield. What was once deemed a no-man’s land had suddenly become the greatest of advantages to the significantly smaller army; a well-calculated plan that tended to turn the tides of a battle in a pinch.

The lead of the Lunar Guard bellowed out a horrifying scream, raising his axes high overhead as he charged forward to meet the surprised army before them. Gritting his teeth, Nightlock pushed against the mud; rocketing forward with the advance of his comrades. His glaive whistled through the air as he swung it rapidly, catching a surprised-looking Solari across the eyes.

Nightlock’s wicked smile was the last thing the unsuspecting soldier saw as the glaive quickly returned, stabbing through his armor and puncturing the muscular neck below. The ferocious blade pulled back with a visceral spray; quickly returning forward to catch a turned Solari right between the plates of his golden armor.

The soldier let out a horrible screech as a Lunar axe crushed his helmet; the sickening “crunch” a forenote to the soldier’s lifeless body. Nightlock yanked his prized weapon from the fresh-kill, turning quickly with surprise as he felt it come into contact with another body. The clawed haft of the glaive quickly tore are the pony’s armor; earning Nightlock a groan of pain before the wickedly curved blade caught the pony’s neck between the helm and shoulder guards: quickly decapitating the offending Solari.

Nightlock winced sharply as he felt the familiar nip of a blade at his cheek; the small nick along it coming from the rather imposing-looking Solari before him. The smaller soldier jumped back as a large golden broadsword slashed into the earth just before his hooves. The Solari looked in horror as the grinning Lunar Guard vanished before his eyes; the last thing he saw before he felt the terrible bite of the Lunar glaive.

Nightlock flashed quickly out of his invisibility as he slid silently through the thralls of brawling ponies. First glance told him that there was at least twelve Solari casualties to each Lunar death, a fact that he let fill him with newfound vitality as he caught a group of solari by the legs. Blood sprayed from the wounds as the Solari toppled over, death swiftly following the maimed ponies into the mud.

A warcry to his right called the attention of the Lunar, whom quickly made his way to the source. Before him, a battle of captains unfolded in a clearing lined with a wake of Solar bodies. Swords clashed with axes as the two glorious warriors fought in the downpour. Nightlock laughed wickedly as he watched his commander fade from view; the horror on the Solari captian’s face proving to fill the Lunar Guard with unabashed glee.

A quick crosschop from the Lunar captian’s axes sent the Solari’s head literally spinning through the air, leaving it to land a few yards away. Nightlock cheered and howled as he returned to the fray; the taste of victory sweet atop his tongue. He galloped quickly overtop the fallen Solari; quickly making his way to join up with the rest of his isolated comrades.

Bodies piled quickly in the morning rain, blood washing away into the mud with the runoff. At the end of the skirmish, the Solari had all been cut down; a great victory in comparison to the hoofful of casualties that the Lunar guard had sustained. Nightlock assisted in the collection and burying of Lunar dead, finding himself having to literally dig through corpses to find the bodies of his fallen brethren. A small tune could be heard from the soldier as he completed his grisly task; whistling softly in the still air as the sun started to raise overhead.