//-------------------------------------------------------// A War of Worlds -by TheIronMask- //-------------------------------------------------------// //-------------------------------------------------------// The hunt is on. //-------------------------------------------------------// The hunt is on. The camp was bathed in orange as fires were lit to thwart the chill of the night while the sentries moved towards their posts. Commander Hurricane, leader of the thirteenth hoplites, squinted for a short time as she gazed at a map, before a private placed a lantern on the small square table to illuminate her quarters. Today had been a hard march, which ended with her troops in clouds, cots, or laying in beds of straw above the wet mud. It was to be endured however, as the very lives of every pony to the north of Everfree Castle depended upon them. “Commander?” a voice called out to her from the dark, which brought Hurricane out of her thoughts. Her magenta eyes found purchase, a private, white in coat with a bottle of wine to help sate her nerves. “Your wine,” he spoke with a careful tone at the sharp look that was flung his way. Hurricane accepted it gratefully and bade the soldier a silent good night, before she poured a cup for herself. She then stared at the reports for a moment longer, and meditated on their contents. A monster was roaming around out there, like none pony kind had ever seen before, which was a number of monsters. Three northern villages in the span of seven days, all leveled and demolished. The Earth Pony guards that had been defending the villages paid a heavy price as most had been squashed under hoof as it laid waste to whatever had gotten into it’s path. From the sheer damage alone she knew that it, whatever it was, was mammoth in size and strength. As, according to the surviving witnesses, it was covered in spiked armor and was able to throw balls of fire from its head. That was reason enough to bring two legions but then, there was another matter. Her husband, Commander Xiphos, had come along, and his general dislike of their now inter-tribal army had come with him. She could sympathize, if, and only if, the alliance between the tribes weren’t needed so that the land could be free of Windingo. Hurricane sighed and massaged her head as her mind drifted to her husband. A brilliant leader, strong and courageous. He had his flaws, but those were over looked when compared to the whole thing. Just as the thought of her husband exited Hurricane’s mind did the real Xiphos enter the tent, his bronze coat meshed with the black breastplate as if the two were made for each other. He strode past her, careful to not spill his wife’s wine and began to remove his armor as he spoke, “The scouts have reported that nothing has been in the area, or the surrounding villages.” Hurricane was skeptical with the assessment, and made her findings known as both husband and wife gazed at the map, “The creature has been moving in regular patterns, starting from the north, and moving southeast towards the coast. With luck, we should be able to catch it before it strikes again.” “This shouldn’t be too hard, what with how big it is. Hmm, there is a bog to the east. We could search there come morning,” Xiphos suggested before Hurricane came along side him and studied the map. “We’ll send one legion there, while the other sweeps the surrounding villages,” She offered, which seemed to appease the stallion. “Very well, we shall rest for the night. It will do us no good to wake tired and weary,” Xiphos agreed as he finished removing his breastplate. Hurricane agreed after she finished the bottle of wine and adjourned to bed, eager to solve this conundrum. *** Twas half past two when Hurricane felt her bladder wake. The commander grumbled, half asleep, as she used her wings to slowly propel her to the latrine ditch on the edge of the wooden camp. The attendants saluted her before they resumed a watchful attention. Hurricane didn’t care however, as the need to urinate nearly overtook her. She sighed as she dipped her backside over the edge of the ditch and began. Crickets chirped around her in the chill of the night air, with the only other sound being liquid hitting the dirt. Then all was silent as the wind shifted, which made Hurricane furrow her brow. She couldn’t hear anything, no bugs, her relieving herself, or even the wind. Hurricane finished then stood and felt the sudden whirlwind, but as soon as she did, it was over. Sounds came back, and the wind died. Hurricane stood, now fully awake and spooked, not that she would admit it. She took off and hovered above the post wall and spun slowly, as she squinted her eyes in the gloom, but found nothing. Her attention then turned to the guards and asked, “Did you two see anything?” Their faces contorted in confusion as they looked between each other and shook their heads. Hurricane beat down the urge to panic, before she heard one reply. “No commander, we wouldn’t dare look upon you in such a disrespectful manner,” one answered, which made Hurricane let out a huff of irritation. “When the wind picked up, what did you see?” she tried again, a sense of urgency laced through her voice. “With respect, We do not know what you are talking about, Commander,” the other answered with as much confusion as the first. This stumped Hurricane, had she really imagined it all, the wind and silence? The sapphire hair on the back of her neck stood on end, the answers eluded her. Perhaps, she had been hallucinating. “Forget I said anything,” She uttered, as urgency rapidly left her system, which left the need to sleep to take over. Hurricane reached her tent in a swirl of questions. Perhaps this area was cursed? Maybe it was the alcohol doing this to her, messing with her? The commander resumed her place beside her dearest husband, eager for sleep to claim her. *** In the eastern bog, a large metal cylinder crashed into a small lake. Buoyant red devices along it’s hull quickly brought it to the surface, where it bobbed like a cork for a time. Then metal whined against metal before the top opened with a hiss as pressure was relieved. The occupant, covered from head to hoof in armor, emerged before it flew to the shore. It gazed around in all directions, suspicious of the planet it had landed upon. Once it was satisfied that no one saw it land did it press a button on a gauntlet which made it’s pod disappear from sight. The alien looked to the heavens and screeched as long and as loud as it could. The moon burned with the fire in the creature's soul as the hunt had finally begun. And this time, there was no escape.