The Resurfacing of Monsters named Mannby TimemasterChaptersPrologueJournal of Clyde DumpherJournal of Privateer DanielPrologue The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Ten For about a year, we fought to claim this land on the other side of the world, but we have only gotten this small building in the southernmost part of the native's land. My men and I have been stationed here since a week ago.The natives, which my superiors call 'Mann', have slaughtered half my entire squad in mere days, but we got one of them with a bolt to the head. It looked hilariously like a unicorn. The others. We took its corpse to our wooden head quarters, stripped it of its leather armor, and put it in our supply room, for there is not many rooms in this building. Celebrating, my men went to bed just a bit early, but I had stayed up. I heard rumbling in this quiet house, but I thought it was one of my men getting a drink, so I did not question it. What a mistake that was. In a matter of minutes, screams echoed from a bunker where some of my best men slept. I got my spear, running into the bunker, only to find the monster eating one of my men with its bare hands. It had turned around to me, its one big eye staring at me. Its muscles tensed and showed no fear before charging me. I froze. I froze. I would have died, frozen from shear fear of the beast, but was saved by one of my griffons. Using a spear, Johnson stabbed the big eye of the monster. The scream of the beast was traumatizing, but was halted when I stabbed my spear into the beast's heart. Its skin was hard, but with sheer force, I managed to pierce through. But even then, the fear ignited from that beast won't stop harassing me. I mean... it was only one of them. One, unarmored, weaponless, vulnerable, Mann had killed five of my griffons and made the other hundred afraid. If that beast can do that, I cannot imagine fighting an armored and armed Mann in close combat. a day ago, the day after the attack, I had contacted main HQ in Gryphonia and requested them to send the army by our fast messenger, who flew there and back in a matter of hours. They, at first, rejected. Then I told them of the attack. Afraid that the only base we had in the native's land would be compromised, which would surely mean we lost, the Royal Lord of the Army told us that the army will be sent in a month's time. A month. In a week of being here, we had lost half our squad and then some... I just told my griffons that the army was coming, which brought up their morale... but then I mentioned WHEN they were coming. Some were still happy, but quite a few realized our situation and put their heads down, hiding their fear from the hopeful... Night is nearing, so I should go upstairs and make sure our night-watchers are actually looking around the base, instead of curling up and crying. You see, the griffon who was eaten that day was a member of the night watch who had sacrificed himself to scream and save his friends. I have put on a pair of goggles, as to hide my tears from my griffons. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud. K.I.A. Cadet Fire Starter—Pummeled to Death Cadet Jameson Highlander—Neck snapped when punched Cadet Jameson Donner—Head removed when punched Cadet Lemon "Lemon" Lemon— Chest squashed inward while sleeping Cadet Lightheart Flyer—Sacrificed himself to save others; Eaten The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Eleven Nothing much happened today. We had a small funeral for those lost, then I sent out a scout to fly around for a few days, for we need to know what is around here. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Twelve The men and I had a small party today, for it was my birthday. Even though we were still saddened over the deaths of our friends, we felt a bit better. The fear of the monsters has dwindled, but we still have a watchgriffon group of adept crossbowgriffons. One of the watchgriffons made me a cake on his time off, and I am eating a piece of it while writing this, and it is quite good for what little ingredients we have here. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, and fourty-five year old, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Thirteen We have discovered that the armory's door is somewhat rotten compared to the other doors. We will fix it when Cadet Leo, the scout, comes back, for he is also our builder. The scout has been gone longer than expected, but that is not that bad, for he has always been slow. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Fourteen Our scout came back today. He came back, through the ceiling of the lunchroom, scaring everyone eating breakfast. He was mangled, a bolt through his beak (horizontally), but otherwise unscathed. Well, he is unconscious from his crash, but he is expected to come to in a day or two. I just hope whatever hurt him did not follow. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Fifteen My worst fear has come into fruition. It seems out scout had left a bloodtrail when he was escaping back to base. He still is not awake, so I cannot berate him for possibly leading an army to us. All I can do is wait for now, and hope. My lord, if we come into contact with a large group of Manns... I do not think we will live. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Sixteen The scout woke up today. He told us of groups of three or four Manns spotted him flying, but only one shot at him. He said they must be bad shots, for they could not even hit him down, but he also said that they had swords not unlike our own. In fact, he said they were better, for the Manns tower above us at a strong seven feet and are capable of carrying bigger swords. I am afraid, but I think we may be able to handle the groups of three or four Manns. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Seventeen Silence. Everyone in the base is silently waiting for the Manns to arrive. We are all at our posts, crossbows at the ready. I told them all to aim for the eye, for it was big and vulnerable. We waited. We waited. We still have not slept. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Eighteen I have been up for hours. I cannot sleep, for they are out there. I saw them. I saw them in groups of 10, bigger than the scout said. They are armed outside. They are sleeping in tents, waiting to eat us. Can't take this anymore. I saw them, they saw me. They shot at me. They got me. They got me from far away, in this light snowstorm. How? How are they so strong? How did they see me? How did they make me fear them? How? How? HOW? I am inside, in the infirmary, healing up. I am fine, I am not dying. I am not dead. I just... I just... I can't fly anymore. They got my left wing. My wing. I am grounded. I can no longer evacuate like the rest may, for blimps cannot fly here without being shot down. I am stuck in this death trap, grounded. Those bastards. I can't leave the room. I am stuck in this bed, while they are right outside our door. We cannot shoot at them, for they are always faster. Three of my crossbowgriffons lay by me, injured themselves. They were adept crossbowgriffons, but were downed by those beasts. The beasts are too good at crossbowgriffon-ship to just be primitive like I was told when I came here. I am stuck with them. My men are defending the doors in the front and back, for there is no windows to defend, but I cannot bring myself to say to them that it is not enough. Just one of them can kill all my griffons. I am sure that we're doomed. I am doomed. I am stuck, for they have restrained me to this bed to 'keep me safe'. None of my griffons are true doctors, and we had no anesthetic. I felt too much pain while my wing was removed, but that is not why I am horrified. I am horrified of how easily I lost. I am a master crossbow griffon, but I lost to a Mann with an interesting armor. The armor was metal, but had metal overlapping against metal, different from our chains. The armor was pitch white, which made it hard to aim at him or her or it. I, on the other claw, was wearing our nation's symbolic red armor against the brown walls of the base. It cost me a wing. It cost me my confidence. It scares me... I have just heard my door lock for some reason. I do not see the door, but I hear the clattering of claws against ground. My lord, I have just been told of the situation. They got in. They broke down the door leading to our armory, killed the troops, and got a cannon. They then proceeded to blow up the part of the building furthest from us. I am now laying down, along with some of my men, in this cold, small, escape shaft. I am waiting for Cadet Larson to open the escape hatch. I am now far away from the base, but still underground. Larson and I agreed to travel to the beach through this tunnel, where we can hopefully run to the safety of Equestria and request to be sent home. Larson is opening another escape hatch, this time to the beach, and the three cadets behind me, Larson, and I are dead silent. We are listening for any trace of the Manns. Larson has opened the hatch. We see no Mann, but there is a boat in the distance! It has an Equestrian flag, which is quite odd. It is sailing towards us, for we have signaled it, but it is quite slow, as if on lookout for Mann like we are. I stretch out my... wing, feeling it pop, and get up. The boat is right there... ack, my pen is running out of ink... I guess I'll just write till it is gone. I still cannot believe that we are finally going home. Well, that is if the Equestrians allow us to. I am pretty sure they will question us for some time, for we are at a small war. As they are almost docking, I guess it is time to stop reporting. I am sure they wouldn't want us to be doing anything suspicous on their boat. I waved at a shadow of a figure on the boat, and it waved back, but... wait. Ponies don't have cla— Journal of Clyde DumpherAuthor's Note ☺ Leave a comment on my story please.☻ As per the challenges I placed upon myself, I made it so I cannot edit anything a paragraph behind what I am currently typing, so if I made a giant, unplanned, plot in my story—I will roll with it and go with the flow, wherever it goes... Journal of Clyde Dumpher The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Five After having half of the Griffon army charge through to reclaim the base once lead by the now-deceased Nomad Leader (by exterminating every Mann we saw in an amazing trap I'll detail tomorrow) and a few days of scouting, we griffons of the Historians' Guild were allowed to come in. As it turns out, in the camps of the Manns, there were odd documents in a weird language. I am the lead researcher of the species called "Mann", but I had never laid eyes on this. The documents were made of paper, something that is quite advanced, so it is quite exciting! I mean, these beings that look like brutes somehow have an invention that wasn't around until Saddle Arabia had its small enlightenment. In my claws, I hold the document. I understand some words, for I had deciphered them from the armor and tablets brought back through the year-long, and still ongoing, war. So far, I have found that this paper is some sort of message, but not any message. This seems to be a military-type message detailing co-ordinates. Co-ordinates? Why would a species, locked in a confined space for a thousand or so years, need something like that? I don't know, but I want to know. While the army is off killing these glorious beings, I of the Historians' Guild will try to decipher their language entirely. The reason why is not just of my LOVE of the fact we have a new species to study, but also because I am getting paid more than any other griffon in Gryphonia's middle class, even the army themselves, because our Lord wished it to be. I do not know why he is paying me so much to just decipher words of a language of a species that we will inevitably eradicate, but I do not (and cannot) question him. I have realized I should never publish this book until I am deader than dead. From what I can tell with my current observations, and those of some other historians who came, is that we can conclude, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Manns are about on our technological level—minus the flying vehicles and canons... I hope. Signed, Clyde D. The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Six Alright, nothing much happened today other than some more decoding. So far, the other historians and I have decoded a location of one of the Manns bases, but it doesn't mean much. I mean, it took an army of us to surround and kill off only 100-200 Manns. You see, the army had set a trap and the Manns took the bait. The trap activated a bright light, which effectively blinded the one-eyed beasts, and then a whole legion of crossbowgriffons wiped out the Mann groups. It wasn't really that spectacular, or so the army says because I was not there, but the griffons who were there said that, even in their number, they felt fear chill up and down their spines repeatedly after the slaughter. They said something about the eyes terrified them. One of the scouts on the beach also uncovered the journal of Jables while I was asleep, and it was interesting to read. I mean, why did this intelligent captain suddenly go mad for a second then go back to sanity in a span of a few seconds? Was it the Manns who did such a thing to his mind? More Quesitions, less answers, more deciphering, everyday. I will go to sleep now, for I have cleaning duty tomorrow. Signed, Clyde D. ☺ The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Eight I am not used to this weather. Even now, in my 'warm' bed, my beak hardens and my feathers freeze at the roots in a painful manner. I did not accomplish any decoding, but my friends have decoded an important name from the paper. The name, of either a person or a weapon, was the equivalent of "Mann-Lord Flames". Odd name, even of a weapon, but this is an alienated species, so it should not be that surprising. (Green Smudge) Dangit. I sneezed in my bloody journal! Ugh, I guess I will sign off. Signed, A sickly historian. The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Ten Alright. I am better now, my friends, so let us continue on documenting my daily journey in this land of Mann. Well, it seems that we have nearly decoded the entire document. It does reveal that the name we mentioned earlier was one of a living being, but not a Mann. Usually a Mann's name includes a symbol signifying their position in their clan, or group, but there is none for this particular character. "Mann-Lord Flames" is quite a peculiar and powerful name to give to a non-Mann, so us historians are wondering if this was a deity. In the same document, though, it acts as if Flames is a currently living being. Perhaps it is an emperor or something? That'd be cool to study. I mean, we already know they have a military hierarchy of sorts, I wonder if they have a government or are just tribal? Oooh so much to learn! Signed, A healthy historian. The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Twelve Yesterday was a mess. It turns out that the construction on the newest wing of the base was planned for next month, but was put on the wrong date—yesterday. It took us a lot of effort to try and get the darn things in storage for the constructors to use next month. It was like playing that videogame that I loved as a lad, except even more anger-inducing. Also, today, a scout found something interesting. The scout found a decorated cave, but for some reason, it was deserted. He said that it contained artifacts so heavy, he could only carry one. What he brought back was a staff, but it had some magical residue on it, as if it was used by a caster. Does this mean that the Manns have magic? I really hope not, but just the fact that they MAY have magic is scaring me. I am inside a heavily upgraded (since the last group) compound, with walls nearly impenetrable, even by cannon, but I am utterly horrified, but intrigued. Maybe they used the magic to escape their prison? Maybe. It seems many of my friendly historians agree that this, this place we are in, is becoming more and more insecure by the day. I mean, after reading about how easily the Nomad squad fell, with their crossbowgriffons being shot down easily, I thought the Manns were just brutes skilled at hunting things—but now they have magic? How? I have asked many of my friends, but every hypothesis we gave just gave us more things to fear. I don't know if I am completely safe anymore. Signed, Clyde Dumpher The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Thirteen A scout found the boat that probably killed the Nomad leader today. Although his body was never found, the book did have a speck of blood on it. The army had flown off in mass, hoping to destroy the vessel. The scout was shot at, but oddly, they let him live. How do I know they let him live? He said that the sky was clear, there was no strong winds, and they were looking straight at him with deep, blue eyes. But that is not the frightening part. The scout said that one of the Manns was holding a staff akin to the one we own, except it glowed the moment he was near. That is freaky. I guess it is nightmares for me, then. Signed, Scardy Cat Clyde Dumpher The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Fourteen The scouts found a party of ten humans closing in on our location. Like the last scout from the Nomad's group, they let him live. He lost a talon, though, which is disheartening. He said that the look in their big, pronounced, blue eyes felt odd. He felt like the beings had absolutely no fear, surprise, or any bad emotion of him being there—as if they knew. Did they spot the scout first, just waiting for them to arrive? He also talked about their armor. They wore plated white and grey armor, their helmets like a knights. He also stated that four carried large battle-axes on their front and javelins on their back, while the rest were crossbowmanns, but he said that one of them had an odd shaped javelin. Last time a scout found something, it was bad news to the griffons here... I am leaving this place tomorrow. I am going to start packing. I- I just couldn't handle even being in a building knowing Manns were arriving before defenses were made. Yes, they haven't even finished the damned defenses. They only have a few crossbowgriffons, an alchemist, and a few speargriffons. This place is so dead, but sadly, the evacuation blimp is broken due to a piece of hail slamming against something, i dunno. I guess I will have to fly away on my own power, tomorrow. Signed, Clyde Dumpher The Journal of Me Year Two, Month One, Day One My talons hurt, so I don't want to write, although, this situation makes me want to write. I mean, It is freaky to find the book of a long-dead griffon at the bottom of a slaver's ship that hit the rocks off our coast, especially after reading what was going on during that time, right? Kind of saddening that he did not make it, no? Happily, I can report that he is, indeed, dead and not a slave. Although that is not true for my brother... Me and my friends have been excavating these lands for quite some time, and we needed something to write down our adventures, so why not this nearly-empty journal? We have found many valuable metals that can be used for our casters, crossbows, and battle-axes that we may be awarded a lot from our leader! Sadly, more our enemy is closing in. A whole party of rebellious Manns of the Cergat tribe across the river has caused us much harm these last few days. They got my brother last month, and I want him back. Sadly, though, I am not a good caster yet. Happy I am to report, though, that the army of Gryphonia has conquered about half of the Cergat's land. That means they are weak, and can easily fall to me. Oh, I did not even put my description in the journal, silly me. I am Me Gerge, of the Gerge tribe, and we are griffon-hunters. In fact, we have attached some of their sharp, oddly durable, claws onto our own fingers! Sadly, as I said before, my talons are weakening... Oh, the leader is coming! I wonder what he has to say? Aww, he told me to throw away the journal, for only true casters should write. Damn him and his awesome, piercing, red eyes that intimidate me so... if only I could blast him with his own twisted staff. Welp, I will put this journal in an indentation on the Equestrian ship that we stole quite some time ago (that was nearly lost countless times). Hopefully someone else who has re-learned Equestrian writing will read this journal. Signed, Me (true name not disclosed in order to not die) ☺ Journal of Privateer Daniel Journal of Privateer Daniel Johnson, the best privateer in Gryphonia, nay, the world! Year Two, Month Five, Day Fifteen—of what I suppose of is, like, a few years after the beginning of this war? I never really paid attention, I just like raiding. I just realized this was red by looking at the pen's side.... Wish I was not color blind (to red only and, for some reason, my mom suffers the same). Well, after ripping apart this long-standing (stolen) vessel, I found this interesting journal. I have already shown the historians this book, and they have made copies, as to prove that Manns do have a written language. I am sure that the original will be included in some history museum somewhere, so why not ensure that I get a piece of eternity myself? As stated above, I am the best privateer ever. No, seriously. I took over this small naval fleet that had amassed over the months, something not even the freaking army could do! In fact, I was granted the title "Great Privateer" by the leader of Gryphonia himself... Maybe I should use that title instead of that long one up there... Oh well. As this is a journal, I will write down some things that happened today, so here we go! I did nothing but sort out goodies! I found quite a few Manna Staffs (which is what the historians jokingly named them) that were used by the Manns to blow up one of my boats. Sadly, though, the moment the Mann carrying it died—the staff itself lost its magic. I guess this means that Manns have magic? Wouldn't be that surprising. ... I don't think much else had happened today. I mean, all I did was sort out valuables, and the scientists are trying to figure out what they are... Nothing much even happens on this boat other than our usual raids (offensive and defenseive), so I guess this may be a quick little journal. Can't wait to give this journal back and get some extra bits to finally buy my wife her own boat—only need 2,000 more bits! (Like that is happening any time soon) Signed, I guess, "Great Privateer" Daniel Johnson Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Seventeen Finally gonna go sell this thing. Er, not the journal, but this cool little pendent. It is golden, just like the Equestrians make, but it has an odd engraving on the back of it. The pendent's engraving curves in a spiral into the center of the oval-shaped amulet, but on the sides of the spiral lie flags of different sorts. I suspect that it is Mann in origin, and I know from the journal that there is clans of Manns, but there is SEVERAL clan-flags! And guess what is inside the middle of the spiral? Another Flag! The flag in the center of the spiral is highly decorated, and just seemed far more important than the other, smaller, flags on the side. Is this the flag of the ruling clan? I find this so interesting! I mean, even with us being here fore two years, we have not uncovered even the smallest detail of the way the Manns' government works except that they have clans... or... What if they have a feudal society? We have never seen any manors or anything in our flybys (that the scouts lived on), so what kind of feudal system is this? I actually have an answer. This is a kind of republic, where the clan leaders each vote on who becomes the next "King" (or whatever term they may use). Where did I find this answer? I do not know. I mean, I just opened the pendent and suddenly I just KNEW. I tried learning other things this way, but none of done the same as the first opening. I want to know more, much more. I... I just feel compelled to keep this pendent for myself for now, just so I can study it for a little more. Just a little more. Signed, I guess, "Great Privateer" Daniel Johnson Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Twentyfive I am continuing to study this bloody pendent, but I have made a discovery. When I rubbed the spiral of the pendent in, well, a spiral, I suddenly saw a green beam shoot through the window-less wall without hurting it. I am very intrigued, so I started to fire off more beams. I am beginning to suspect that was a bad idea. Signed, "Great Privateer" Daniel Johnson Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, DayTwentyseven Nothing muh happened other than a small escape boat was found, but it was empty except with a griffon's corpse. Saddening. Signed, Dan. Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Twentyeight The docs say that the griffon was eaten. From this journal, I guess you already know what that means. Signed, Dan... Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Twentynine The pendent glowed today in a red colour. I shoved it into a drawer and locked it, for reasons I do not know. I just don't' want to touch it. Signed, Dan. Oh lords The Pendent is gone. My room is locked, and the ventilation is shut off, but outside I hear the self-destruct signal that only I should know about... I do not have much time before my demise, but before I go, and hide this journal in a water-proof bag somewhere, I must reveal what I had learned. The Manns are too strong for us to beat. Not because of numbers or even their magic, but because of somemann that will arrive one day. That Mann, from my knowledge, will be a king whose ambition would crush our powerless people. But destiny can be changed, I am sure of it. We... you just need to try. I am sure the one who is killing me was a blue-skinned Mann, but that is curious, for the knowledge I saw depicted a blue Mann. Not much time left, for me and my nation. I am going to place this journal into my safety box along with some notes that I wish for you to send to who I specify. Signed, for the last time, The Greatest Privateer, Daniel Johnson P.S. I am beginning to suspect this journal is cursed to kill those involved, be cautious.
Prologue The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Ten For about a year, we fought to claim this land on the other side of the world, but we have only gotten this small building in the southernmost part of the native's land. My men and I have been stationed here since a week ago.The natives, which my superiors call 'Mann', have slaughtered half my entire squad in mere days, but we got one of them with a bolt to the head. It looked hilariously like a unicorn. The others. We took its corpse to our wooden head quarters, stripped it of its leather armor, and put it in our supply room, for there is not many rooms in this building. Celebrating, my men went to bed just a bit early, but I had stayed up. I heard rumbling in this quiet house, but I thought it was one of my men getting a drink, so I did not question it. What a mistake that was. In a matter of minutes, screams echoed from a bunker where some of my best men slept. I got my spear, running into the bunker, only to find the monster eating one of my men with its bare hands. It had turned around to me, its one big eye staring at me. Its muscles tensed and showed no fear before charging me. I froze. I froze. I would have died, frozen from shear fear of the beast, but was saved by one of my griffons. Using a spear, Johnson stabbed the big eye of the monster. The scream of the beast was traumatizing, but was halted when I stabbed my spear into the beast's heart. Its skin was hard, but with sheer force, I managed to pierce through. But even then, the fear ignited from that beast won't stop harassing me. I mean... it was only one of them. One, unarmored, weaponless, vulnerable, Mann had killed five of my griffons and made the other hundred afraid. If that beast can do that, I cannot imagine fighting an armored and armed Mann in close combat. a day ago, the day after the attack, I had contacted main HQ in Gryphonia and requested them to send the army by our fast messenger, who flew there and back in a matter of hours. They, at first, rejected. Then I told them of the attack. Afraid that the only base we had in the native's land would be compromised, which would surely mean we lost, the Royal Lord of the Army told us that the army will be sent in a month's time. A month. In a week of being here, we had lost half our squad and then some... I just told my griffons that the army was coming, which brought up their morale... but then I mentioned WHEN they were coming. Some were still happy, but quite a few realized our situation and put their heads down, hiding their fear from the hopeful... Night is nearing, so I should go upstairs and make sure our night-watchers are actually looking around the base, instead of curling up and crying. You see, the griffon who was eaten that day was a member of the night watch who had sacrificed himself to scream and save his friends. I have put on a pair of goggles, as to hide my tears from my griffons. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud. K.I.A. Cadet Fire Starter—Pummeled to Death Cadet Jameson Highlander—Neck snapped when punched Cadet Jameson Donner—Head removed when punched Cadet Lemon "Lemon" Lemon— Chest squashed inward while sleeping Cadet Lightheart Flyer—Sacrificed himself to save others; Eaten The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Eleven Nothing much happened today. We had a small funeral for those lost, then I sent out a scout to fly around for a few days, for we need to know what is around here. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Twelve The men and I had a small party today, for it was my birthday. Even though we were still saddened over the deaths of our friends, we felt a bit better. The fear of the monsters has dwindled, but we still have a watchgriffon group of adept crossbowgriffons. One of the watchgriffons made me a cake on his time off, and I am eating a piece of it while writing this, and it is quite good for what little ingredients we have here. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, and fourty-five year old, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Thirteen We have discovered that the armory's door is somewhat rotten compared to the other doors. We will fix it when Cadet Leo, the scout, comes back, for he is also our builder. The scout has been gone longer than expected, but that is not that bad, for he has always been slow. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Fourteen Our scout came back today. He came back, through the ceiling of the lunchroom, scaring everyone eating breakfast. He was mangled, a bolt through his beak (horizontally), but otherwise unscathed. Well, he is unconscious from his crash, but he is expected to come to in a day or two. I just hope whatever hurt him did not follow. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Fifteen My worst fear has come into fruition. It seems out scout had left a bloodtrail when he was escaping back to base. He still is not awake, so I cannot berate him for possibly leading an army to us. All I can do is wait for now, and hope. My lord, if we come into contact with a large group of Manns... I do not think we will live. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Sixteen The scout woke up today. He told us of groups of three or four Manns spotted him flying, but only one shot at him. He said they must be bad shots, for they could not even hit him down, but he also said that they had swords not unlike our own. In fact, he said they were better, for the Manns tower above us at a strong seven feet and are capable of carrying bigger swords. I am afraid, but I think we may be able to handle the groups of three or four Manns. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Seventeen Silence. Everyone in the base is silently waiting for the Manns to arrive. We are all at our posts, crossbows at the ready. I told them all to aim for the eye, for it was big and vulnerable. We waited. We waited. We still have not slept. Signing off, Nomad Squad Leader, Jables Cloud The Mighty Kingdom of Gryphonia Journal of "Nomad" Squad Leader Jables Year One, Month One, Day Eighteen I have been up for hours. I cannot sleep, for they are out there. I saw them. I saw them in groups of 10, bigger than the scout said. They are armed outside. They are sleeping in tents, waiting to eat us. Can't take this anymore. I saw them, they saw me. They shot at me. They got me. They got me from far away, in this light snowstorm. How? How are they so strong? How did they see me? How did they make me fear them? How? How? HOW? I am inside, in the infirmary, healing up. I am fine, I am not dying. I am not dead. I just... I just... I can't fly anymore. They got my left wing. My wing. I am grounded. I can no longer evacuate like the rest may, for blimps cannot fly here without being shot down. I am stuck in this death trap, grounded. Those bastards. I can't leave the room. I am stuck in this bed, while they are right outside our door. We cannot shoot at them, for they are always faster. Three of my crossbowgriffons lay by me, injured themselves. They were adept crossbowgriffons, but were downed by those beasts. The beasts are too good at crossbowgriffon-ship to just be primitive like I was told when I came here. I am stuck with them. My men are defending the doors in the front and back, for there is no windows to defend, but I cannot bring myself to say to them that it is not enough. Just one of them can kill all my griffons. I am sure that we're doomed. I am doomed. I am stuck, for they have restrained me to this bed to 'keep me safe'. None of my griffons are true doctors, and we had no anesthetic. I felt too much pain while my wing was removed, but that is not why I am horrified. I am horrified of how easily I lost. I am a master crossbow griffon, but I lost to a Mann with an interesting armor. The armor was metal, but had metal overlapping against metal, different from our chains. The armor was pitch white, which made it hard to aim at him or her or it. I, on the other claw, was wearing our nation's symbolic red armor against the brown walls of the base. It cost me a wing. It cost me my confidence. It scares me... I have just heard my door lock for some reason. I do not see the door, but I hear the clattering of claws against ground. My lord, I have just been told of the situation. They got in. They broke down the door leading to our armory, killed the troops, and got a cannon. They then proceeded to blow up the part of the building furthest from us. I am now laying down, along with some of my men, in this cold, small, escape shaft. I am waiting for Cadet Larson to open the escape hatch. I am now far away from the base, but still underground. Larson and I agreed to travel to the beach through this tunnel, where we can hopefully run to the safety of Equestria and request to be sent home. Larson is opening another escape hatch, this time to the beach, and the three cadets behind me, Larson, and I are dead silent. We are listening for any trace of the Manns. Larson has opened the hatch. We see no Mann, but there is a boat in the distance! It has an Equestrian flag, which is quite odd. It is sailing towards us, for we have signaled it, but it is quite slow, as if on lookout for Mann like we are. I stretch out my... wing, feeling it pop, and get up. The boat is right there... ack, my pen is running out of ink... I guess I'll just write till it is gone. I still cannot believe that we are finally going home. Well, that is if the Equestrians allow us to. I am pretty sure they will question us for some time, for we are at a small war. As they are almost docking, I guess it is time to stop reporting. I am sure they wouldn't want us to be doing anything suspicous on their boat. I waved at a shadow of a figure on the boat, and it waved back, but... wait. Ponies don't have cla—
Journal of Clyde DumpherAuthor's Note ☺ Leave a comment on my story please.☻ As per the challenges I placed upon myself, I made it so I cannot edit anything a paragraph behind what I am currently typing, so if I made a giant, unplanned, plot in my story—I will roll with it and go with the flow, wherever it goes... Journal of Clyde Dumpher The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Five After having half of the Griffon army charge through to reclaim the base once lead by the now-deceased Nomad Leader (by exterminating every Mann we saw in an amazing trap I'll detail tomorrow) and a few days of scouting, we griffons of the Historians' Guild were allowed to come in. As it turns out, in the camps of the Manns, there were odd documents in a weird language. I am the lead researcher of the species called "Mann", but I had never laid eyes on this. The documents were made of paper, something that is quite advanced, so it is quite exciting! I mean, these beings that look like brutes somehow have an invention that wasn't around until Saddle Arabia had its small enlightenment. In my claws, I hold the document. I understand some words, for I had deciphered them from the armor and tablets brought back through the year-long, and still ongoing, war. So far, I have found that this paper is some sort of message, but not any message. This seems to be a military-type message detailing co-ordinates. Co-ordinates? Why would a species, locked in a confined space for a thousand or so years, need something like that? I don't know, but I want to know. While the army is off killing these glorious beings, I of the Historians' Guild will try to decipher their language entirely. The reason why is not just of my LOVE of the fact we have a new species to study, but also because I am getting paid more than any other griffon in Gryphonia's middle class, even the army themselves, because our Lord wished it to be. I do not know why he is paying me so much to just decipher words of a language of a species that we will inevitably eradicate, but I do not (and cannot) question him. I have realized I should never publish this book until I am deader than dead. From what I can tell with my current observations, and those of some other historians who came, is that we can conclude, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Manns are about on our technological level—minus the flying vehicles and canons... I hope. Signed, Clyde D. The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Six Alright, nothing much happened today other than some more decoding. So far, the other historians and I have decoded a location of one of the Manns bases, but it doesn't mean much. I mean, it took an army of us to surround and kill off only 100-200 Manns. You see, the army had set a trap and the Manns took the bait. The trap activated a bright light, which effectively blinded the one-eyed beasts, and then a whole legion of crossbowgriffons wiped out the Mann groups. It wasn't really that spectacular, or so the army says because I was not there, but the griffons who were there said that, even in their number, they felt fear chill up and down their spines repeatedly after the slaughter. They said something about the eyes terrified them. One of the scouts on the beach also uncovered the journal of Jables while I was asleep, and it was interesting to read. I mean, why did this intelligent captain suddenly go mad for a second then go back to sanity in a span of a few seconds? Was it the Manns who did such a thing to his mind? More Quesitions, less answers, more deciphering, everyday. I will go to sleep now, for I have cleaning duty tomorrow. Signed, Clyde D. ☺ The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Eight I am not used to this weather. Even now, in my 'warm' bed, my beak hardens and my feathers freeze at the roots in a painful manner. I did not accomplish any decoding, but my friends have decoded an important name from the paper. The name, of either a person or a weapon, was the equivalent of "Mann-Lord Flames". Odd name, even of a weapon, but this is an alienated species, so it should not be that surprising. (Green Smudge) Dangit. I sneezed in my bloody journal! Ugh, I guess I will sign off. Signed, A sickly historian. The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Ten Alright. I am better now, my friends, so let us continue on documenting my daily journey in this land of Mann. Well, it seems that we have nearly decoded the entire document. It does reveal that the name we mentioned earlier was one of a living being, but not a Mann. Usually a Mann's name includes a symbol signifying their position in their clan, or group, but there is none for this particular character. "Mann-Lord Flames" is quite a peculiar and powerful name to give to a non-Mann, so us historians are wondering if this was a deity. In the same document, though, it acts as if Flames is a currently living being. Perhaps it is an emperor or something? That'd be cool to study. I mean, we already know they have a military hierarchy of sorts, I wonder if they have a government or are just tribal? Oooh so much to learn! Signed, A healthy historian. The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Twelve Yesterday was a mess. It turns out that the construction on the newest wing of the base was planned for next month, but was put on the wrong date—yesterday. It took us a lot of effort to try and get the darn things in storage for the constructors to use next month. It was like playing that videogame that I loved as a lad, except even more anger-inducing. Also, today, a scout found something interesting. The scout found a decorated cave, but for some reason, it was deserted. He said that it contained artifacts so heavy, he could only carry one. What he brought back was a staff, but it had some magical residue on it, as if it was used by a caster. Does this mean that the Manns have magic? I really hope not, but just the fact that they MAY have magic is scaring me. I am inside a heavily upgraded (since the last group) compound, with walls nearly impenetrable, even by cannon, but I am utterly horrified, but intrigued. Maybe they used the magic to escape their prison? Maybe. It seems many of my friendly historians agree that this, this place we are in, is becoming more and more insecure by the day. I mean, after reading about how easily the Nomad squad fell, with their crossbowgriffons being shot down easily, I thought the Manns were just brutes skilled at hunting things—but now they have magic? How? I have asked many of my friends, but every hypothesis we gave just gave us more things to fear. I don't know if I am completely safe anymore. Signed, Clyde Dumpher The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Thirteen A scout found the boat that probably killed the Nomad leader today. Although his body was never found, the book did have a speck of blood on it. The army had flown off in mass, hoping to destroy the vessel. The scout was shot at, but oddly, they let him live. How do I know they let him live? He said that the sky was clear, there was no strong winds, and they were looking straight at him with deep, blue eyes. But that is not the frightening part. The scout said that one of the Manns was holding a staff akin to the one we own, except it glowed the moment he was near. That is freaky. I guess it is nightmares for me, then. Signed, Scardy Cat Clyde Dumpher The Inseparable Historians' Guild of Gyrphonia Journal of Mann History Lead Researcher, Clyde Dumpher Year One, Month Two, Day Fourteen The scouts found a party of ten humans closing in on our location. Like the last scout from the Nomad's group, they let him live. He lost a talon, though, which is disheartening. He said that the look in their big, pronounced, blue eyes felt odd. He felt like the beings had absolutely no fear, surprise, or any bad emotion of him being there—as if they knew. Did they spot the scout first, just waiting for them to arrive? He also talked about their armor. They wore plated white and grey armor, their helmets like a knights. He also stated that four carried large battle-axes on their front and javelins on their back, while the rest were crossbowmanns, but he said that one of them had an odd shaped javelin. Last time a scout found something, it was bad news to the griffons here... I am leaving this place tomorrow. I am going to start packing. I- I just couldn't handle even being in a building knowing Manns were arriving before defenses were made. Yes, they haven't even finished the damned defenses. They only have a few crossbowgriffons, an alchemist, and a few speargriffons. This place is so dead, but sadly, the evacuation blimp is broken due to a piece of hail slamming against something, i dunno. I guess I will have to fly away on my own power, tomorrow. Signed, Clyde Dumpher The Journal of Me Year Two, Month One, Day One My talons hurt, so I don't want to write, although, this situation makes me want to write. I mean, It is freaky to find the book of a long-dead griffon at the bottom of a slaver's ship that hit the rocks off our coast, especially after reading what was going on during that time, right? Kind of saddening that he did not make it, no? Happily, I can report that he is, indeed, dead and not a slave. Although that is not true for my brother... Me and my friends have been excavating these lands for quite some time, and we needed something to write down our adventures, so why not this nearly-empty journal? We have found many valuable metals that can be used for our casters, crossbows, and battle-axes that we may be awarded a lot from our leader! Sadly, more our enemy is closing in. A whole party of rebellious Manns of the Cergat tribe across the river has caused us much harm these last few days. They got my brother last month, and I want him back. Sadly, though, I am not a good caster yet. Happy I am to report, though, that the army of Gryphonia has conquered about half of the Cergat's land. That means they are weak, and can easily fall to me. Oh, I did not even put my description in the journal, silly me. I am Me Gerge, of the Gerge tribe, and we are griffon-hunters. In fact, we have attached some of their sharp, oddly durable, claws onto our own fingers! Sadly, as I said before, my talons are weakening... Oh, the leader is coming! I wonder what he has to say? Aww, he told me to throw away the journal, for only true casters should write. Damn him and his awesome, piercing, red eyes that intimidate me so... if only I could blast him with his own twisted staff. Welp, I will put this journal in an indentation on the Equestrian ship that we stole quite some time ago (that was nearly lost countless times). Hopefully someone else who has re-learned Equestrian writing will read this journal. Signed, Me (true name not disclosed in order to not die) ☺
Journal of Privateer Daniel Journal of Privateer Daniel Johnson, the best privateer in Gryphonia, nay, the world! Year Two, Month Five, Day Fifteen—of what I suppose of is, like, a few years after the beginning of this war? I never really paid attention, I just like raiding. I just realized this was red by looking at the pen's side.... Wish I was not color blind (to red only and, for some reason, my mom suffers the same). Well, after ripping apart this long-standing (stolen) vessel, I found this interesting journal. I have already shown the historians this book, and they have made copies, as to prove that Manns do have a written language. I am sure that the original will be included in some history museum somewhere, so why not ensure that I get a piece of eternity myself? As stated above, I am the best privateer ever. No, seriously. I took over this small naval fleet that had amassed over the months, something not even the freaking army could do! In fact, I was granted the title "Great Privateer" by the leader of Gryphonia himself... Maybe I should use that title instead of that long one up there... Oh well. As this is a journal, I will write down some things that happened today, so here we go! I did nothing but sort out goodies! I found quite a few Manna Staffs (which is what the historians jokingly named them) that were used by the Manns to blow up one of my boats. Sadly, though, the moment the Mann carrying it died—the staff itself lost its magic. I guess this means that Manns have magic? Wouldn't be that surprising. ... I don't think much else had happened today. I mean, all I did was sort out valuables, and the scientists are trying to figure out what they are... Nothing much even happens on this boat other than our usual raids (offensive and defenseive), so I guess this may be a quick little journal. Can't wait to give this journal back and get some extra bits to finally buy my wife her own boat—only need 2,000 more bits! (Like that is happening any time soon) Signed, I guess, "Great Privateer" Daniel Johnson Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Seventeen Finally gonna go sell this thing. Er, not the journal, but this cool little pendent. It is golden, just like the Equestrians make, but it has an odd engraving on the back of it. The pendent's engraving curves in a spiral into the center of the oval-shaped amulet, but on the sides of the spiral lie flags of different sorts. I suspect that it is Mann in origin, and I know from the journal that there is clans of Manns, but there is SEVERAL clan-flags! And guess what is inside the middle of the spiral? Another Flag! The flag in the center of the spiral is highly decorated, and just seemed far more important than the other, smaller, flags on the side. Is this the flag of the ruling clan? I find this so interesting! I mean, even with us being here fore two years, we have not uncovered even the smallest detail of the way the Manns' government works except that they have clans... or... What if they have a feudal society? We have never seen any manors or anything in our flybys (that the scouts lived on), so what kind of feudal system is this? I actually have an answer. This is a kind of republic, where the clan leaders each vote on who becomes the next "King" (or whatever term they may use). Where did I find this answer? I do not know. I mean, I just opened the pendent and suddenly I just KNEW. I tried learning other things this way, but none of done the same as the first opening. I want to know more, much more. I... I just feel compelled to keep this pendent for myself for now, just so I can study it for a little more. Just a little more. Signed, I guess, "Great Privateer" Daniel Johnson Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Twentyfive I am continuing to study this bloody pendent, but I have made a discovery. When I rubbed the spiral of the pendent in, well, a spiral, I suddenly saw a green beam shoot through the window-less wall without hurting it. I am very intrigued, so I started to fire off more beams. I am beginning to suspect that was a bad idea. Signed, "Great Privateer" Daniel Johnson Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, DayTwentyseven Nothing muh happened other than a small escape boat was found, but it was empty except with a griffon's corpse. Saddening. Signed, Dan. Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Twentyeight The docs say that the griffon was eaten. From this journal, I guess you already know what that means. Signed, Dan... Journal of Great Privateer Daniel Johnson Year Two, Month Five, Day Twentynine The pendent glowed today in a red colour. I shoved it into a drawer and locked it, for reasons I do not know. I just don't' want to touch it. Signed, Dan. Oh lords The Pendent is gone. My room is locked, and the ventilation is shut off, but outside I hear the self-destruct signal that only I should know about... I do not have much time before my demise, but before I go, and hide this journal in a water-proof bag somewhere, I must reveal what I had learned. The Manns are too strong for us to beat. Not because of numbers or even their magic, but because of somemann that will arrive one day. That Mann, from my knowledge, will be a king whose ambition would crush our powerless people. But destiny can be changed, I am sure of it. We... you just need to try. I am sure the one who is killing me was a blue-skinned Mann, but that is curious, for the knowledge I saw depicted a blue Mann. Not much time left, for me and my nation. I am going to place this journal into my safety box along with some notes that I wish for you to send to who I specify. Signed, for the last time, The Greatest Privateer, Daniel Johnson P.S. I am beginning to suspect this journal is cursed to kill those involved, be cautious.
