The Sundering of Equestria - A Future History

The Overthrowing of Fillydelphia

In the early weeks of spring, 1040LB, a single event was to break the monotonous inactivity of the previous winter and restart the war. The exact circumstances immediately prior to this event are unknown to modern historians; how exactly it occurred is still open to much speculation.

The city of Fillydelphia, much like the other Old-Equestria-held cities, had been successfully resisting the half-hearted siege pressed onto it by the forces of the New Lunar Republic. Its defence was organised by long-serving Royal Guardspony, General Bloodbalm, who is recorded as enjoying war “a bit too much”, and being extremely severe to those who disobeyed his orders (even to the point of inflicting capital punishment on possible innocents, to “keep the rest in line”). One of his personal adjutants recorded that, when provoked, “his wrath… knew no difference between soldier and civilian.”

At the beginning to spring, 1040LB, this bloodthirsty general was brutally assassinated by his second-in-command, a unicorn named Major Warlander. After killing him, sources tell us, Warlander mounted her ex-commander’s head on a spike, before announcing to Bloodbalm’s horrified adjutants that she had converted to Discordianism. Guards were called in to arrest her, but the guards that entered the room were wearing extraordinarily multi-coloured clothes “somewhat like the uniform of a jester”, and likewise proclaimed their allegiance to Discordianism.

It is unknown exactly how, when or why Major Warlander converted to Discordianism, or why she had chosen to wait until now to suddenly reveal it. Proponents of the ‘anarchy as a disease’ theory claim that the Major had been ‘infected’ a few days before, by a Discordian cell hidden in the city, but it seems more likely that General Bloodbalm’s actions caused her to snap and adopt this extreme practice. It must be noted, however, that this latter explanation does not explain why, once Major Warlander had declared her allegiance to Discordianism, a significant proportion of both the Royal Guard and the civilian population living in Fillydelphia likewise suddenly announced that they too were Discordians.

However it came about, within hours of Major Warlander’s announcement, the city of Fillydelphia was in complete chaos. Just like in Los Pegasus four years earlier, the Discordians took to the streets in a mass of armed and highly-disorganised mobs. These violent groups rampaged through the city, looting homes and businesses, and attacking non-Discordians at random. One key difference between the two events, and one often highlighted by historians, is that the majority of the non-Discordians in the city were not brutally killed or forcefully converted, as they had been in Los Pegasus (although some were). On this occasion, they were merely humiliated. One witness that survived the Discordian takeover wrote that “non-Discordians were… covered in hot sugar… and forced to march through the streets. Jubilant Discordians in the crowd, dressed in a garish mix-match of colours… spat chewing gum and sticky toffee at them [while others] threw buckets of tar mixed with feathers torn from their own and other’s wings. It was like some kind of strange carnival.”

Outside the walls of Fillydelphia, the New Lunar Republic army that had been laying siege to the city was both surprised and alarmed to hear the sounds of laughter and celebrations coming from within. Concerned both for the morale of her own soldiers, and that the Old Equestrians might have heard some news of which the Republic was unaware, the Republican commander in the field – General Tawleed – ordered a platoon from an attached Nightstrider Brigade to investigate.

Led by Captain Star-Strike (an otherwise unremarkable Nightstrider commander who would later find herself embroiled in one of the Sundering of Equestria’s greatest mysteries), the Nightstrider formation succeeded in infiltrating Fillydelphia – according to the report, no guards had been posted on the city walls – and observed with some puzzlement the Discordian revelry.

Considering that the average Republic soldier was generally unaware of the exact nature of the Discordians, it is therefore unsurprising that Star-Strike’s report to the General was a positive one, containing the immortal line, “The Loyalists appear to be partying. Intensely.”

Despite the good humour generated amongst the Republic troops as the news of what was happening spread, General Tawleed and the other high-ranking officers were not in good spirits. While the War Council had seen fit to hide the true nature of Discordianism from the common pony for propaganda purposes (portraying them as the victims of the oppressive Solar Tyrant was, after all, in their interests), the higher-ups in the Republic military had been briefed on what had happen in Los Pegasus in 1036LB, and been allowed access to the reports concerning Discordian raids into Republican territory. Although we do not have access to the actual reports, and thus are unaware of exactly what transpired around Los Pegasus 1036-40LB, historians generally agree that they could not have been positive.

Aware of the dangers posed by this new threat, General Tawleed ordered her troops into battle formation. Sending a missive to her superiors for reinforcements, Tawleed readied her forces for what she believed to be the inevitable; a Discordian break-out.

The Imperials March

Receiving news of the uprising in Fillydelphia mere days after it had occurred, and before even the War Council of the Republic (thanks in no small part to the efficiency of the expedition’s administrators, advanced Imperial technology, and Doctrinaire’s network of spies), Ambassador-General Doctrinaire was forced to reappraise the magnitude of the danger posed by Discordians in Equestria. Sources tell us that Doctrinaire had previously believed the Discordian ‘infection’ to have been contained in the south-west of the country, but hearing of the completely unexpected overthrowing in the west made him reconsider. The expeditionary force’s defensive plans were put on hold – the World Empire had to act, and act fast.

As per his original plan, the Ambassador-General divided his 500,000-strong force into five, self-sufficient armies of 100,000 soldiers. The First army, under the direct command of Doctrinaire himself, was to remain at Horseshoe Bay, while the Second and Third armies were to begin the march towards Los Pegasus and Fillydelphia respectively (the Third army was also expected to march further north and take control of Manehatten, once the Discordians had been crushed). The Fourth army was ordered initially to remain at Horseshoe Bay to complete defensive preparations, but Doctrinaire ultimately intended it to march on Canterlot. The Fifth army was also kept back – historians believe that distant reports of events in Vanhoover and Tall Tale convinced Doctrinaire that there may very well be another threat lurking on the other side of Equestria.

It is perhaps with this in mind that Doctrinaire sent a message back to the Empire, via Imperial Telegram, asking for more ‘exotic’ reinforcements. While the Ambassador-General was confident that he had large enough armies for the task at hoof, he was apparently concerned that the Empire would face “unconventional difficulties” in Equestria, and thus would need more specialised troops.

Through a miracle of bureaucracy, 200,000 troops were organised, equipped and despatched within a week of the Ambassador-General giving the order. The Third army, which left first, was commanded by the relatively innocuous Marshal Lonquin, remembered primarily by non-historians for the events surrounding his death. Accompanying his force of several thousand infantry was a formation of 4,000 Iron Guard – complete with their steam-powered, mechanised armour – and a squadron of Imperial Landships.

For those unfamiliar with old Imperial technology, a Landship was a house-sized, steam-powered, heavily-armoured vehicle, designed primarily to break through defensive fortifications and to terrorise enemy formations.  Equipped with caterpillar tracks to enable steady (but extremely slow, due to its simple steam engine) movement across any kind of terrain, armour thick enough to resist all but the most powerful attacks, and, for most examples present in Equestria at this time, a single Ballistae siege cannon, Landships are generally considered to have been one of the most dangerous of the World Empire’s military assets.

Also under the command of Marshal Lonquin was the now-famous Colonel Staid – at that time merely a Captain – who would play a key role in coming events.

The speed and suddenness of the Imperials’ mobilisation shocked the War Council of the Republic and, once they had discovered the Third army’s target, they dispatched a force of 21,000 troops under the command of the previously-disgraced General Ike Trots. Eager to regain his standing with the War Council, Trots led his forces towards Fillydelphia with the aim of reinforcing General Tawleed’s small army. In a diary entry written by one of his aides, Trots was apparently confident of defeating both the Discordians – whom he believed to be so disorganised that they weren’t even a threat – and the advancing Imperials, thus ensuring “his inevitable promotion”.

The Conquest of Baltimare Part 1 – Confident of Victory

In the closing weeks of spring, 1040LB, Marshal Lonquin and his army had encountered an obstacle preventing them from advancing any further towards Fillydelphia; the Old-Equestrian-held city of Baltimare. Taking the city had been part of the Ambassador-General’s plan, however, and he had taken steps to ensure that Marshal Lonquin’s army was prepared and equipped to obtain a quick and efficient victory.

The commander of Baltimare’s defensive forces, Lieutenant-General Blake Ridelings, had had plenty of time to build up and prepare the city’s defences, and was supremely confident that he and his force of 18,000 soldiers could easily fight off any attack. According to one source, Ridelings, upon seeing what he believed to be the entire Imperial Third army marching towards the city one spring morning, commented, “Ha! Is this all they send to fight us? Do they think we are foals? The walls of Baltimare are ten metres thick – they are impregnable! Pushing back these Imperials will be no harder than pulling dead leaves from a tree. I tell you, by tomorrow night, this will all be over.”

The force Lieutenant-General Ridelings observed was not the main force however; it was merely the advance guard, composed of a few thousand light infantry. Over the course of that afternoon, a total of 50,000 troops, including the Iron Guard formations and twelve of the Imperial Landships, arrived outside the walls of the city. The other half of Marshal Lonquin’s army had taken a slightly longer route so as not to slow down the entire column– by the time the other 50,000 troops arrived at Baltimare, the battle had been fought and decided.

It took all night for Lonquin’s troops to fully surround the city, organise themselves into battle formations and for a plan of attack to be drawn up. Lieutenant-General Ridelings used this time to organise his own plans – the sources tell us that Ridelings drew up some very intricate plans, including several predictions of what the Imperials’ moves might be and effective counters to all of them – and had the small cabal of Solar Disciples under his command ready their most powerful spells for a dawn battle.

Inside Baltimare, the Royal Guard units were not as confident of victory as Ridelings was but, thanks to a good night’s rest and their confidence in the city’s extremely impressive fortifications, were in good morale. The Imperial soldiers on the other hoof, due to their training and belief in the invincibility of the World Empire, had absolutely no doubt that they would be victorious.

In fact, a local entrepreneur (who, according to their diary, gained entry into the Imperial’s camp in the hope of selling some of her homemade doughnuts) recorded that, upon asking an Imperial soldier if they were confident of victory, the soldier didn’t seem to understand the question, replying in fractured Equestrian, “Of course we win. We already win. We just have to fight first, then enemy see we already win.” The local mare understood this as meaning that the soldiers of the World Empire were utterly incapable of believing they could lose; whether or not this was true for every soldier, or even for any of them, is often debated by historians.

The Conquest of Baltimare Part 2 – The Imperial Steamroller

As the sun rose the following day, Marshal Lonquin wasted no time in beginning the assault. Lieutenant-General Ridelings had already positioned his troops before dawn broke, and so was confident that his soldiers were in optimum position on top of the city’s walls and by the main gate to repel their attackers. In examining the evidence of the battle, it does appear that the Lieutenant-General was very clever in his positioning; a conventional Equestrian army would have stood no chance against Ridelings’ army. However, Ridelings forgot to consider that the Imperial Third army was not an Equestrian force, and fought wars in a very different way.

Ridelings had placed the majority of his Royal Guard troops (including most the unicorns under his command) on top of the walls, in place to repel the expected aerial assault to try to take control of the city’s defences. The pony population of the World Empire, however, includes very few pegasi (and even fewer few unicorns, but that’s by-the-by), and so – unexpectedly for the Equestrians – there was no aerial assault. (Note that this does not mean that the World Empire possessed no air force, as they quite famously did and still do, but since their air force was not present in this battle, it is, for the moment, inconsequential). Ridelings had anticipated every Equestrian attack formation, but he had not anticipated the absence of an attack.

Instead, Marshal Lonquin ordered forward his assault troops in three spearhead formations, with his twelve Landships forming the three tips. Advancing slowly, the Landships had plenty of time in which to repeatedly fire their Ballistae siege cannons. Utilising artillery ‘shells’ (similar to most armies in our modern world) rather than the simple black-powder-and-cannonball technology of the West, the Landships’ weapons were powerful enough that, by the time the Imperial troops had reached the city’s defences, three great holes had been smashed open in Baltimare’s “impregnable” walls.

The Royal Guard units on top of the walls found themselves falling and crushed underneath the rubble of their defences. Those elsewhere on the walls and by the main gate looked on in horror as the house-sized Imperial war-machines rumbled through the open gaps, followed by unit after unit of grey-uniformed soldiers. Although these ‘wave’ tactics were simplistic – relying as they did on a direct assault with numerically superior forces – they were undoubtedly effective.

Ridelings reacted quickly, ordering in all available reserves to push them back, as well as drawing hundreds of soldiers off of the walls, where he now realised they were not needed – but it was not enough. The first Royal Guard units to attack the Landships quickly discovered (as other units had done in Manehatten, against a different machine) that the vehicles’ thick armour rendered them impervious to the Guardsponies’ spears and magical bolts. Things only got worse however; packed into the dense Baltimare streets, the massed Royal Guard (sent in great numbers to “plug the gaps”) could not retreat fast enough when they discovered that the Landships did not stop for infantry. Approximately a hundred or so Old Equestrian soldiers were crushed by the Imperial war-machines in the initial assault, before they had a chance to retreat.

Once they were inside the city, the World Empire soldiers spread out, making assaults down every street simultaneously, thus making the most out of their numbers – just as Marshal Lonquin (who was safe in the Imperial camp outside Baltimare, and well away from the fighting) had previously ordered them to do.

The Imperial infantry units were equipped ubiquitously with the Standard Imperial Rifle – a simple weapon that utilised bullets, rather than the Griffons’ musket-balls, as ammunition. Although not notably powerful, the SIR was bolt-action, ensuring a high rate of fire, and the Imperial’s bullet technology gave their weapons a good chance of piercing the Royal Guards’ armour. However, the Imperial soldiers themselves did not wear armour and, once this was discovered by Lieutenant-General Ridelings, he ordered all troops to counter-attack at close range, hoping the Royal Guard’s superior strength and close-combat expertise would win the day.

Unfortunately for the defenders, in giving this order Ridelings had overlooked the sheer number of Imperial soldiers attacking them. In many locations, Imperial soldiers fixed their bayonets (specially-designed blades that can be attached to the barrels of rifles) and counter-charged. While the Royal Guard once again proved themselves to be the greatest individual fighters in the whole of the Sundering of Equestria (one surviving Guardspony is credited with killing 117 Imperial soldiers), the Imperial soldiers facing them outnumbered the Royal Guard units approximately 10-to-one (although the exact number of Imperial units taking part directly in the battle is unknown, historians agree that the defenders were undoubtedly heavily outnumbered). A significant proportion of those Guardsponies fighting on the front line were overwhelmed and brought down under a pile of stabbing bayonets and clubbing rifle-butts.

With his carefully-laid plans in tatters and his supposedly-impregnable defences rendered useless, the Old Equestrian commander began to panic. Ridelings ordered in all his specialist reserve units to push back the attackers. The aerial Royal Guard, however, had no more effect than their Earth pony and unicorn equivalents, and succumbed in large numbers to concentrated rifle-fire. The Solar Disciples, on the other hoof, were somewhat more effectual.

Concentrating their attacks, the powerful magical beams of the Solar Disciples, launched from their shielded, hovering palanquins, succeeded in repeatedly piercing the armour of one of the Landships. After peppering it with “holes each the size of a pony’s head” – the effect of which was apparently negligible on the vehicle’s performance – one lucky beam succeeded in detonating the ammunition storage, causing the Landship to explode.

While a tremendous achievement in the eyes of the defenders, this action actually had very little impact on the battle as a whole. The Landship in question was on the front lines when it exploded, and its detonation killed and injured almost as many Royal Guardsponies as it did Imperial soldiers – and the latter were more easily replaced. Furthermore, this was to be the only Landship to be destroyed in the battle; as a result of its loss, the Imperial officers in the field identified the Solar Disciples as the greatest threat to their elite units, and consequently ordered their troops to concentrate their fire against this new target.

Despite their magical shielding, the Solar Disciples rapidly suffered unsustainable casualties and were forced to retreat. Sources more critical of the stereotypically vain and self-serving Solar Disciples accuse them of fleeing as soon as they came under concentrated fire, but that is a matter for debate. Seeing the most powerful and visible element of their army forced to retreat, the Royal Guard troops below began to lose heart. Rather than panic and flee, however, they merely began a slow and steady retreat away from the advancing Imperials, fighting them all the while; a testament to the Royal Guards’ intense training and stoicism in battle.

Realising that the victory of the “Imperial steam-roller” was inevitable, and that retreat from the city would be impossible, Lieutenant-General Ridelings made the decision to preserve the lives of his soldiers and called for all troops to surrender. He was, however, canny enough to order the remaining Solar Disciples to flee (via magical teleportation, one would assume) back to Princess Celestia to report on what had transpired.

The official document detailing the surrender of all Baltimare forces and the hoof-over of the city to the World Empire was signed by Marshal Lonquin and Lieutenant-General Ridelings at the end of the second day of the battle; ironically, exactly when the latter had predicted it would end.

The Conquest of Baltimare Part 3 – Impact

With the fall of Baltimare to the World Empire, Princess Celestia had lost her last significant base of operations outside of the capital. This was undoubtedly a serious blow to Old Equestrian morale. With all but Canterlot and a few strategically- and economically-unimportant towns (such as Ponyville and Cloudsdale) now in the hooves of one of her many enemies, Celestia was forced to reconsider her strategies. During a lull in activity, in which Old Equestria would again build up its remaining forces and assets, Celestia’s armies would also undergo retraining, reorganisation and reformation, all as a direct result of their defeat at Baltimare. Furthermore, thanks to the information provided by the hoof-full of Solar Disciples that escaped the city, the military leaders of Old Equestria would ultimately be able to institute new battle-tactics and strategies that would prove to be much more effective than their previous efforts – but this would not be for some time.

For Marshal Lonquin and his superiors, however, this battle was merely the first step in their campaign to subdue the various factions warring over Equestria. Once the surrender document had been signed, the processing of the civilians and captured soldiers of Baltimare began. When the other half of the Third army arrived two days later – their progress having been slowed by their efforts to establish a chain of fortified outposts, connected by Imperial Telegraphs, on the road to Baltimare – the fresh half took over the job of processing, whilst the original half resumed their march northwards, towards Fillydelphia.

According to Imperial records, approximately 12% of the military and civilian population of Baltimare (the exact numbers are unknown, but are presumed to be at around 10,000) were identified as being ‘infected’ with Discordianism, knowingly or otherwise. In what was to quickly become an established trend, these ‘infected’ ponies then disappeared from history; there are no sources whatsoever that explain or hint at what may have happened to them. Many modern historians now believe that there are records hidden away deep in the vaults of the World Empire government that, should they ever be released, would shed a great deal of light on the ultimate fate of these unlucky ponies.

With losses of merely 8,457 soldiers, and one Landship (next to nothing for the vast armies of the World Empire), the Conquest of Baltimare was almost a perfect success for the Imperials. Despite having lost the psychological advantage of their Landships, Marshal Lonquin had cleverly not committed to battle any forces other than the aforementioned Landships and his basic infantry. The enemy, therefore, had no experience of his Iron Guard units or of his fixed-position artillery. Hearing word from Doctrinaire that more specialised regiments were on their way to further reinforce his army, Lonquin was confident that he would retain the psychological advantages granted to him by advanced Imperial technology and the more exotic World Empire troops when he faced his next foe.

Additionally, the now-famous Captain Staid took part in and survived the Conquest of Baltimare. Apparently as a result of his “resolute leadership” (but, more likely, the result of the loss of a number of higher-ranking field officers, caused by Marshal Lonquin’s simplistic tactics), Captain Staid was promoted to the rank of Major. This was merely one a number of promotions for this “hero of the Empire”, who had begun his career (if the source-less story is to be believed) at the very lowest ranks of the Imperial military, some thirty years previously. Those more interested in this pony should direct their attention to one of the many biographies written about him after the war.

The continued march north by the Third army was a slow one, again because of the numerous fortified outposts that were set up, as well as the logistical issue of moving so many soldiers. This gave the Republican commander General Ike Trots sufficient time to arrive with his army at the outskirts of Fillydelphia, and he arrived just in time for the first of two battles for the city.

Conflicts in the West

Unlike in the east, where the combatants kept detailed records of developments events and battles, the two principle factions fighting over the western edge of Equestria in 1040LB onwards – the Discordians and the Changeling Swarm – were not in the habit of keeping detailed records. Historians thus have to rely on the (often speculatory) accounts of scouts from the more organised factions, who were observing events in the west, and, on occasion, the very rare accounts actually from the westernmost factions. The exact events occurring in the west are mostly unknown, and even modern historians are forced to make, at best, approximate guesses of what battles and events transpired between the Changeling Swarm in the north and the followers of Discordianism in the south.

Despite this, historians are certain that, during the last weeks of spring 1040LB, all the way through the summer, and then on-and-off throughout the rest of the war, there were intermittent battles between the two aforementioned factions. One of the few battles we know of (and can be certain took place) occurred in the first week of summer 1040LB, in which a significant number of Changelings (approximately 9,000, but estimates vary wildly) encountered a Discordian ‘war-band’ (a group of violently-inclined Discordians, numbering anywhere from a dozen to several thousand) near to the base of Smokey Mountain.

This unnamed battle – known nowadays as simply ‘The Clash at Smokey Mountain’ – was witnessed and recorded in brief by an unnamed Republican scout from one of the many Nightstrider brigades. Writing frustratingly vaguely that “battle commenced between the two sides” and that, “after some hours… the Discordians gained the upper hoof” so “the Changelings fled”. Despite the shortness of the account, modern historians have deduced that, with all probability, this was one of the first large scale battles between the Changelings and the Discordians; possibly the first of many. Although we do not know the tactics used in, or the events of, the battle, an artefact accompanying the report – to the casual observer, merely a twisted shard of metal – displays some very unusual properties, including a strange rainbow-like glow and its inverted temperature (heating it makes it colder, and vice-versa), that have given both modern historians and modern scientists some great insights into the workings of Discordianism and Discordian magic.

The Discordian Shard, as it is popularly known, is of particular importance because, unlike most other Discordian artefacts, it has not been securely locked away or destroyed by the World Empire – whom, I’m sure my readers are well aware, vehemently disapprove of all things Discordian. The Discordian Shard and the accompanying report are currently on display in the Riydh World History Museum, for those that are interested in visiting this most unusual and mysterious piece of history.

Further battles almost certainly transpired between the Changeling Swarm, whom we now know were attempting to expand their territory, and roving bands of Discordian warriors, whose motives were as random and inexplicable as their actions. (For example, one war-band leader that was active around this time – the self-proclaimed ‘Super-King Mousey Supreme’ – is recorded in one Republic account as seeking out “shiny objects, pony-wigs to brush, and zombies with which to power treadmills”. Following his capture by Republican forces in 1041LB, he repeatedly attempted and failed to get himself elected as a member of the War Council of the New Lunar Republic, for no apparent reason.) The number, events and nature of these battles, however, are surrounded in mystery, and must unfortunately be consigned to brash speculation by historians.