Battle of Crystal Hill

The Changeling Hoard heading south

A small whisper of thousands of voices all speaking on the wind met the ears of over a million of scurrying and flying black chiton covered creatures. Every single one holding blue eyes and holed hooves and horns. Moving at a slow but uniform rate. Save for a hulking mass, green eyes and a green flame from the crest of his head. As if a life force, a soul. The creature had not hooves but black, jointless pincers. They curved toward the ground to allow walking on the outside, like a gorilla. It held a dark purple, stringy mane.

Among the crowd of monsters were the occasional green eyed ones, sharing a flaming texture to the eyes along with the fire. They swept their gaze and showed more intelligence over their colleagues.

The display was that of what some would consider prehistoric, they resembled beasts of a time long past for equestria. They were more rigid then their modern day counterparts.

"What of the leftmost brood, Tur'ak?" A voice drifted over the wind from the monstrosity at the heart of the hoard not vocal but as if sending sound brainwaves to its lings in arms. "The brood moves at correct speed with exception of recently disciplined ling, King." It said in a feminine voice, coming from one of the green eyed creatures.

The hulk known as king shifted weight while walking, thinking on the news. "Have it sent to healing cocoons for examination." He responded, no reply. Although a yelp from his left over the marching was heard followed by a small ling being carried on to the back of the pack with a green aura. The feminine, green flamed brood-hatcher's horn aglow.

The small ling was oozing blue blood from his right fore knee. Obviously painful to walk with. His insect-like wings twitching as he was carried and placed, then sealed into a green tinted cocoon. Another green eyed moving to examine the cocoon.

The king looked back forward, mildly satisfied. Until...."Ooohhh! An end to the snowy, cold mountains! We must be no more than a twelve of a sunsky away from the ponies!" A small, overly excited ling cried over the brain communication.

The king swung his head 65 degrees behind him, staring right at the ling that had spoken. The small thing looked terrified as the king spoke. "We are eleven moonrises away from the ponies. Much walking in the snow plains to come. Be thankful I do not rip away your shell that protects you from the cold for speaking." The poor thing was so scared it nearly fell on the ground.

The King looked back forward as the group walked. "Infiltrator, report." The speech from the king moving far south to the Crystal Empire.

A ling came into view, standing near the Crystal Empires large library. Under the disguise of a pony stallion. He concentrated when he heard the call for report. "The city has been militarized. The ponies move to defend the city. Outland farmers are pouring in, looking to armor up. Large stallion leader has taken leadership. Identified as Sombra. The threat is still minimal by estimates, operation will succeed."

"Good." The reply came.

Then the infiltrator moved to look for an appropriate pony to take the place of. Looking around with slight interest in the armored guards and strong looking outlanders coming in to be equipped.

He spied one in-particular, catching a tidbit of his announcement to some of his fellow countrymen. "...and I,  Rooster Hoof, will help lead us to fight off these monsters spawned in the depths of whatever rock they may come from! Y'all should make good n sure to get me as you're militia leader! Think of it, the 1st Armored hay harvester corps!..." He faltered. "Errr... Uh, nevermind the name, we must work to keep our empire safe from any creatures or ponies that would see our lives messed with."

The changeling would lick his fangs if he wasn't disguised, that pony looked like the perfect pony to replace. He had a large audience and from what he saw, people thought highly of him.

"Prey is in sight." He thought to himself. Walking to follow him wherever he went, until he saw his chance.

A hour or so later

Rooster Hoof was walking into one of the numerous tents set up on the side of the streets in the city. Mumbling to himself about a lack of new armor sets and the such.

"Not enough armor will be made for me and my boys..." He muttered to himself as he opened the black tent flap and went inside, laying down on his makeshift bed. "If I gotta deal with that dumb ol' blacksmith for another..." He fell asleep before he could finish his angry ranting. Snoring loudly.

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A couple minutes had passed from when the infiltrator started to hear the snoring from inside. The ling had been listening intently from the closed flap.

"Mhmm.." He hummed to himself, moving his left forehood to open the flap and slid halfway in, dropping his disguise as he went in, causing a faint green flame. Revealing the coal black chiton of his shell, his sharp fangs showing when his mouth lost its disguise.

As he moved up to this Rooster Hoof, opening his mouth to bite his paralyzing venom.

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Rooster Hoof was awoken with a start to a faint green light, opening his eyes slightly and looking to the source, seeing a black form creeping into his tent.

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Everyone in the city was awoken by a roaring battle cry from a certain tent.