DROP OF HORSEYLAND by Siftstone
"Not Sorry At All," by Siftstone
The Princess and the Elements of Harmony stared onwards, toward the distant horizon, as the shadowy black of the Caribou army neared Canterlot. The Princess was powerless to stop the advance of the mare-hungry beast-men, and she knew this. If she wanted true peace in her lands, if she wanted to keep herself and her charges alive through this, she would have to submit. Oh, how she wished for a champion in this time of need, someone to-
"BLOOD UPON THE SKIES," Came the loud, booming voice of The Witcher, falling out of the sky wearing the armor of the space marine chapter known as the Storm Wardens, "CRYING WALKS ACROSS THE LAND," He continued, launching past the awe-struck princess with his jump pack. "DARK SPIRITS YET AWAKENED," he sang, stripping off all of his armor while he fell through the sky towards the advancing army, leaving him wearing nothing more than a dozen weapon holsters, a sword bardic, and his pants, "I FEEL THAT SOMETHING MOVES AROUND."
He landed upon one of the caribou soldiers, cleaving his skull in twain with a mighty swing of his buzz-axe, all the while tweaking an exposed nipple with his free hand. "EONS IN MY VEINS", he cried. As a caribou thrust forth a spear, the Witcher whirled around the attack, slamming his buzz-axe into the caribou's stomach, pulling his weapon upward and spilling the soldier's guts across the grass. "LEGENDS CONJURED IN MY BLOOD," continued the warrior, hurling his buzz-axe across the field and into the scalp of yet another caribou soldier.
"INSOMNIA HOLDS MY MIND," screamed the Witcher, tweaking both nipples, now, as he charged across the battlefield with lightning speed. A crowbar, seemingly conjured from nowhere, began to break apart antlers and bones, as the Witcher turned into a whirlwind of insanity and pure nipple action. "ALWAYS READY... ALWAYS!" An errant cast of magical flame from the warrior's free hand caught him ablaze, and in his flaming fury, he ended up bending his crowbar around the neck of a soldier, popping his head clean off. "BREAK."
"SWORD, ITS BLADE," he continued, drawing forth the three feet of gleaming steel that sat upon his back, all the while bending his free hand in strange angles, casting seemingly randomized spells with a wand he had acquired from a broken antler, "UNHOLY SAVIOR IN MY HANDS". He hurled his wand in the general direction of the caribou king, but it exploded before it got into range, spraying fairy dust and love juice upon the army. The Witcher drew his buzz-axe from the scalp of his previous victim, dual-wielding it alongside his steel sword. "THAT METAL TOUCH," came forth the continued symphony of the Witcher's insanity, as he began spinning in a brutal circle, hacking through flesh and bone. "GIVING HOPE OR DEATH."
"I TOUCH IT, GENTLE," The Witcher bellowed, while affixing several skinned caribou skulls to his crotch and shoulders. A caribou's skin, roughly stripped by an errant swing of the Witcher's buzz-axe, was draped around his shoulders, now. A sickening squishing noise unnerved several of the caribou, as the Witcher pushed his head through the neck-stump of a severed caribou head, his glowing eyes peering out through the caribou's dropped, dead jaw. "HIGH RESPECT INDEED."
Another fling of his buzz axe buried the weapon deep into the shield of a distant caribou warrior, as the Witcher pulled an M4A1 out of his caribou headdress's ear. "I RAISE THIS SWORD ABOVE," he all but barked, spraying his weapon into the herd, while his sword-arm flung about in a flurry of slashes and gashes, "ALL POWERS IN MY HAAAAANDS!"
Many a caribou tried to spear the Witcher, slash him with swords, sink axes into his neck, but it was all for not. The Witcher's powerful magic kept a shielding aura around him, and seemed to have enchanted the caribou body parts that he now wore as armor. Any soldier that approached from behind was immediately assailed by explosive, ballistic cabbages that seemed to conjure forth from the ass-plate that was once the skull of a mighty caribou berserker. "DRAGON, AND WOLF," the Witcher brayed, a massive, gas-powered drill whirring dangerously on his free arm, "THIS NIGHT IS MY DOMAIN."
As the Witcher drilled, slashed, shot and bashed, the caribou began to realize this fight was all for not, and several began to immediately desert. Loyal soldiers, desperate in their lust for the pony kingdom, either pulled them back or killed them outright. They had to win this war, but the Witcher was too powerful for them. The King refused to believe that a single, filthy, irrelevant, eldritch abomination of a human being was capable of causing this much damage to his army, and still pushed them forward. "MY GLOWING EYES," the Witcher blustered, having a lethal slap fight with several soldiers, dismantling their flesh and bone with every sissy-swing of his scarred arms, "YOU NEVER WISH THEM CLOSER."
By now, a quarter of the army had deserted, and half of it lay dead. The King was beginning to get enraged with the screaming humanoid. "SMELL OF BLOOD" roared the human warrior, limbs flying free from the army around him as he let loose with some form of futuristic, laser-guided pulse weapon. He abandoned the tool as soon as the chamber went 'click', now beginning to punch caribou in the face with their own torn-away antlers. "CLAWS OF STEEL," he whooped, now riding on the back of a bear with chainsaw arms, swinging around a pair of spiked, wooden dildos attached to steel chains. "MY METAL GOD'S SO HUNGRY... AGAAAAAIIIIIIN!"
At this point, the Witcher was practically glowing. His song was a roar, his breath was winter, as a sudden blizzard took over the remaining army. "I AM THE LORD, AND MASTER OF THE SWORD" The Witcher howled, as he mercilessly cleaved apart the remaining army with his chain dildos. "SEE MAGIC IN MY EYES, THIS FORCE BECAME MY ENDLESS CURSE," He continued with his rabid song, a colossal fist rising outwards from his zipper, slapping away any and all remaining resistance.
Finally, as the last caribou fell, the King stood from his throne, wielding his colossal, golden blade. "I do not know what you are, or wh-"
The King was interrupted by a spike dildo suddenly burying itself into the King's nipple, vibrating with fury, as the Witcher performed a crotch-hand spring and landed atop the king, "WITCHER IS MY NAME, ADRENALINE BURNS ME INSIDE." The Witcher began furiously headbutting the caribou king, his dickhand violently punching the King in his own dickhand. "ALL SPIRITS FROM THE PAST PROTECT THE SOULS WHICH NEVER REST!"
The King, being little more than wet chips of bone in the dirt, was finally dead and gone, and the pony kingdom was safe, again. However, the effects of the malformed Crystal Heart still lingered, what little innocence remaining in the land being locked away within Canterlot. The Witcher understood this, rising from atop the King's corpse. Drawing from his belt a great blade, the Witcher committed ritual seppuku, and out of the gaping wound on his stomach, came forth a new day.
Harmony and love, happiness and friendship, all spewed forth from the Witcher's stomach contents. As the lands of Equestria were once more restored to their former glory, the Witcher zipped himself back up, turning to face the Princess, who smiled down at her hero from atop the castle.
The Witcher, with a resolute nod, took a squat. With a grunt, he let out a colossal fart, rocketting himself into the stratosphere, and back towards whatever strange domain the warrior came from. The Princess gazed on in awe at the lone human(?) rocket ship, wiping a tear from her eye.
"See you, space cowboy."
