Twilight sighed as she stepped outside the Chieftess’ shack and greeted the warm morning sun, the sound of the village waking up was already in full swing. Blacksmiths hammered away at their craft while farmers tended their small plots of land, children ran back and forth, some playing with toy swords while others were simply making things up as they went. Off in the distance Twilight could see the warriors of the tribe training, men whom she had simply dubbed ‘Samurai’ due to their armor and fighting style. In this world, that word had no real meaning, and so she could apply it as she saw fit. It seemed to be what the Equestrians called them as well, if anything Razor Grass said was to be believed.

The stallion in question was being allowed outside of the tent he had been assigned, stretching his legs and adjusting his dirty green uniform. Twilight didn’t much care for him, he was very much arrogant and reminded her of all the worst parts of home. Twilight was startled when she felt a presence beside her, but calmed down when she realized it was just the Chieftess coming out of the shack. Twilight had opted not to put on her dirty clothes and had borrowed some of the Chieftess’ clothes, needless to say they were very much big on her.

“Good morning, Offworlder.” Cassidy said warmly, Twilight turned and smiled back at her. “I see your charge is stretching his legs… You are certain you want to continue sparing his life?” Twilight nodded quietly and went back to looking at Razor Grass. “Strange… For an Equestrian to spare a life.” Twilight froze, she had never mentioned she was from Equestria, only that she was from another world… “Come now, how dumb do you take me for? Your name is Twilight, you have purple hair, you are bookish… I know who you are…”

“I don’t take you as dumb at all, Chieftess… I had just worried how you would react knowing who I was.” Twilight replied respectfully, Cassidy simply chuckled and patted Twilight on the back. “What?”

“Deeds speak louder than names or flags.” Cassidy said, Twilight looked over at the tall woman and noted that now she seemed to wear an odd gold necklace and crown. She hadn’t noticed them before, likely because things were on her mind. “You spare the life of someone you have never met, you speak to me only with respect, you do not shy away from things you view as taboo... You may be from Equestria, but you are no Equestrian.”

“I… I guess you’re right.” Twilight replied with a slight sigh. “You know, back home I’m a Princess? In charge of all sorts of things, loved and revered by the masses… But my every move is scrutinized…” The woman crossed her arms and looked at the ground. “I’m half tempted just to stay here, none of that immense responsibility, just… Simple things.”

“You are welcome to, Offworlder… If you perform certain rights, you may be accepted as a member of our tribe.” Cassidy said with a smile. “We are not, as the Equestrian’s say, ‘Choosy’... So long as you stand for honor, you are among friends… And you, Twilight, have shown you stand for honor.”

“As much as I appreciate that, I still need to return home… They need me.” Twilight said with a quiet sigh. “That said, I would love to learn more about your culture… And perhaps even his.” The woman pointed to Razor Grass. “He made a proposal to me, you know?”

“I assumed he would.” Cassidy replied.

“He also made a good point… This war of yours, it has been raging for centuries…” Twilight turned to Cassidy with a serious expression. “I’m an outsider, Chieftess… Maybe the Equestrians would listen to me, maybe together we could bring peace to your world…?” The Chieftess smiled sadly at Twilight, then shook her head and looked at the ground.

“I fear that is not possible…” The woman admitted. “I want peace, that is true, but it isn’t just up to me. There are thirty more tribes of Onorus, all on their own, without common leadership any treaty we sign could offend them… Make them come after us.” Her gaze turned towards the training grounds in the distance. “The irony is that the one man who could unite them, my husband, is the one who wants peace the least.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked.

“The Equestrians killed his parents centuries ago, as you know… As much as we love each other, I cannot replace what he lost, and he cannot move on…” Cassidy sighed and rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. “Not until he feels satisfied that his duty as their son has been fulfilled, until he finally breaks his silence…” The Chieftess took a deep breath. “For us, living for so long is its own curse… For Altair, knowing that his parents could still be with him now if not for being killed is what enrages him the most. That is why he only speaks on the battlefield, so that the enemy may know the pain in his voice.”

“Don’t you think that maybe it’s time you made him move on.” Twilight asked. “If you allow him to continue to mourn he will never feel better, he will never feel like he has fulfilled his duty…” Cassidy was about to retort, but stopped herself and hummed.

“Perhaps you are correct…” The Chieftess admitted. “I will have words with him later, when he has finished his training. For now I believe you have an Equestrian to tend to, so I’ll leave you to it.” Twilight nodded and watched as the woman began walking away, only to pause. “And see the town tailor, he will have more appropriate clothing made for you. Tell him I sent you.”

“Yes, Chieftess.” Twilight replied as she watched the woman continue to walk away, that left her standing on the steps of the shack, watching Razor Grass with an uncertain expression.

Razor Grass groaned to himself as he continued to pace back and forth under the watchful eyes of every Onorussian in spitting distance. His uniform was dirty, his stomach was unsettled by the meat, and worst of all the Onorussians smelled offensive to his sensitive nostrils. At least there was a tactical advantage to his suffering, the Onorussians were training out in the open, letting him see how they became such powerful warriors on the battlefield. To his surprise, all they had been doing seemed to be simple drills… Of course, their swords didn’t look like training blades.

“Dear Celestia…” Razor Grass muttered to himself as he realized that they were sparring with actual swords, and with each blow they looked like they were trying to kill. It made sense they were so tough, they trained with the constant threat of death in each slash of the blade, but Equestrians weren’t nearly that barbaric. Even if it improved fighting skills, they would never stoop to putting their own trainees in danger. Razor also managed to get a glimpse of a smaller group of warriors, judging by their immense height and armor size he was able to gleen that they were none other than Onorussian Dragoons. Dragoons made use of thousand year old technology, items known as ‘Actuators’ which gave them more speed and strength with their swords… Even they were fighting one another.

Razor Grass sighed, he knew that sooner or later he would have to make an escape from these barbarians. He could wait for his fellow soldiers to come to his rescue, or he could take the more subtle approach and try to sneak away. For now though, he would simply bide his time and observe as much as he could until the moment presented itself. The stallion watched as a group of women walked past wearing light clothing and carrying spears… They were bigger and taller, that made them better for hunting, but the men were better coordinated and ferocious, making them better fighters… Razor Grass had to give them some credit, Onorussian women took pride in what they did, some mares in Equestrian settlements didn’t know their place.

The stallion removed his hat and adjusted his light green mane before he set his hat back on his head, shading his brown fur from the sun overhead. He just hoped his people were coming for him soon, he didn’t know how much longer he could stand to be around the heathens.

[♠]

The sound of rumbling hooves and creaking carriages echoed over the landscape to the south of Canterlot mountain. Half a dozen carts and carriages were being towed along by oxen while the soldiers of the Equestrian Remnants marched along with their muskets and sabres. Some rode on pony-back, while others simply road along in the supply wagons. The survivors of the Ponista massacre had been found roaming the fields in search of help, and the Equestrian government had deemed it necessary to send an appropriate response against the Onorussian tribals on the mountain. They would also be searching for any captives that might have been taken, specifically the son of an Equestrian Colonel, a stallion by the name of Razor Grass.

The marks of Onorussian territory were all around the soldiers as they continued to trudge onwards, tattered Equestrian uniforms were nailed to trees, stained with the blood of their owners. Skulls and other limbs were mounted on pikes, a truly sickening sight for the fresh troops that had been dispatched to deal with the tribals. For many of them it was just more evidence that the Onorussians would be better off under Equestrian Rule, or barring that, simply eliminated from the equation. Of course, it was likely the Onorussians felt the same way about the Equestrians.

The leader of the group of soldiers was General Custard, a light yellow pegasus with a big mustache and fresh pressed uniform. He didn’t expect the enemy to put up much of a fight, not when they were exposed to the latest designed technology in the Equestrian arsenal. Based off of ancient schematics, the ‘Gatling Gun’ had finally become a feasible weapon, and Custard would be the first to get to use them in combat against the Onorussians. The stallion road atop a horse, one of the mutated creatures that had once been sentient before exposure to high doses of Arcane Radiation… For some reason, only the Equestrians and Onorussians seemed unphased by the otherwise lethal byproduct of the war that still lingered from thousands of years prior.

“General, sir. One of our scouts reports sighting an Onorussian group in the trees… Hunters, from the look of it.” A soldier said from the ground, Custard looked down and took the paper report from his hand. With a smirk the general read the report, then handed it back. “Orders, sir?”

“What else? Shoot them.” Custard said coldly.

“But sir… They’re just hunters, they aren’t the ones that attacked the village.” The soldier said, Custard glared at him. “A-Alright, sir… I’ll give the order.” With that the soldier had rushed off to inform the others, meanwhile the General looked towards the trees and spotted the occasional move of a bush… It took a trained eye, but Custard had written the book on fighting the Onorussian Tribals, he could practically smell the women watching him and his men. Custard glared at the treeline, he was so engrossed that he didn’t hear the first scream of pain. He only noticed when his horse whined and toppled over, Custard scrambled back to his feet and drew his sabre as he looked around. The hunting party had rushed out of the tall grass, and numerous horses had fallen prey to insidious spike pits that had been dug in the ground. Custard looked towards the treeline and was shocked to see only a deer and her fawn exit in the open.

“Ambush!” Custard shouted as a spear was thrown past his head and struck another one of the soldiers in the chest. “Come on, lads! Get the guns ready!” All around him Custard could hear screaming mixing with the bellowing cries of the pack of Onorussian hunters. His men, tough and brave, quickly unlatched the gatling guns from their mounts and began loading them. Custard meanwhile began to fight one of the Onorussian women, his sabre clattering against the hardwood of her spear. The stallion managed to gain the upperhand and ran his sword through the gut of the large woman, he then proceeded to twist it, sending the tribal to the ground while gushing blood and crying out in agony.

The roar of the gatling guns eclipsed all other sounds on the field, bullets tore into the attackers, sending some of the others searching for cover. Those that didn’t get away were cut down in droves, and those not hit by the gatling guns were shot in the back with muskets by the surviving members of the military convoy. Custard stood imperiously beside one of the guns, grinning as he watched the tribals finally being put down like the rats they were. His grin faded slightly when he spotted a flash of blue metal on the horizon, out of range of the guns or muskets, Custard recognized the armor of an Onorussian scout on horseback. The figure was just watching, as if not believing what was happening. The scout flicked the reins on his horse and took off galloping towards the mountain, Custard couldn’t help but feel like he had gotten himself in deeper than he meant to.

Only large settlements sent out scouts and hunting parties at the same time, and judging by the blue armor, Custard had stumbled upon the largest. The Occisor Clan, the last remaining shred of the Onorussian government… Lead by Altair Occisor, or more accurately, his much more talkative wife. On any other day, Custard would have turned around and gone back, but seeing that armor told him there was a big target on the line, and big targets meant big promotions. He turned and looked at his soldiers, they had finished firing their weapons and were cheering their victory. Their spirits were high, and that gave Custard even more confidence.

“Come on, lads! Gather up whatever gear you can!” Custard shouted loudly as he approached his wounded horse, sighing slightly as the animal groaned and snorted. “Shhh…. Shh…. It’s okay…” The General knelt beside the wounded animal and drew his revolver, patting the nag’s side. The horse lifted its head closer to Custard, exposing the soft tissue of its head. Custard quickly pressed the revolver there and pulled the trigger. “I’ll get the bastards…. I promise…” Custard cared deeply for his horses, they were very similar to Equestrians in some ways, and that made putting them out of their misery much more difficult to do. Custard stood up and holstered his revolver, then wiped the blood off his sabre using the grass before he sheathed the blade. Unfortunately several other cavalry stallions had died, but that meant Custard was still able to find a mount.

[♠]

Altair quietly sat in his tent, his armor resting beside him on its stand while he wrote with a quill and ink on a sheet of parchment. Outside he could hear the sound of panic and worry as his fellow soldiers gathered their equipment and prepared for battle. The man would join them shortly, but first he felt he needed to complete his work on the latest page of his book. Having given up his voice for so long, he needed a way to let out his thoughts and ideas, over the past five hundred years he had been working on a single book… A book about war so detailed that it made ‘The Art of War’, one of the ancient holy texts, look like a mere child’s book.

The man looked up when he heard the flap of the tent open, then turned and found himself looking at his wife. Cassidy approached him quietly and knelt beside him, looking at the piece of paper he was working with before she rubbed his shoulder.

“Working on your book, my dear little Shogun?” She asked warmly, Altair only nodded as he finished up a sentence on the page. “When it is done I know it will change the world…” Her husband looked at her with a flat expression, he knew she was working some sort of angle. “Altair, there is something I must ask of you... News that the Equestrians have mastered the power of firearms is spreading quickly… I fear we may no longer be able to stand on our own.” The man remained quiet, looking at the floor silently as if thinking about her words. “When this battle has ended, you must break your silence… It will be the only way to avenge our species and ensure our people do not fall under Equestrian rule…”

Altair looked at Cassidy quietly, she could see he was thinking hard about how to respond. Silently he stood up and made his way to his armor stand, Cassidy moved behind him and began to help him into the suit of metal. She tightened the straps and laces that made up his armor, each time she heard her husband grunt as usual. Over the centuries they had become quite adept at this process, and so it was finished within a matter of ten minutes. It all ended with Altair pulling on his helmet, and then grabbing the gas mask he wore usually to cover his lower face. As he was pulling it on he seemed to pause, Cassidy raised an eyebrow as he suddenly lowered it and turned to her.

“I love you.” The man said in a raspy voice before he pulled his mask on over his face, Cassidy nodded and put her arms around him, hugging tightly. It was as if an ancient prophecy was coming true, the offworlder had come, and not long after she had helped to bring Altair out of the silence... As if the gods had sent Twilight to aid the Onorussians in their plight. “I will break my silence to help our people… For my ancestors. The Equestrians will know suffering like no other.” The man walked towards Cassidy and pulled his mask down, exposing his disfigured lower face. “When I return, I hope you and the Consar will be awake… I shall want to celebrate my victory with another conquest...” Cassidy grinned at him and kissed him on the lips passionately, after a minute she pulled away and allowed him to cover his lower face with the fang mask. Cassidy watched quietly as her strapping strong husband exited the tent, his sword mounted to his back plate.

Around Altair’s waist was a green strip of cloth, the same color as some that had been tied around the end of his sword… Cassidy wore the same type of cloth, signifying both their rank as the tribal leaders but also that they were married. Altiar always ensured he kept that cloth intact, and now more than ever, he would ensure that his wife was safe. His fellow Samurai watched as he climbed atop his horse, they expected his simple gesture to move out, but all were surprised when the man cleared his throat and spoke in a booming voice.

“I have broken my silence, not because I disrespect my elders, but because my voice must join yours in shutting out the wicked sound of gunfire that haunts our lands!” Altair shouted as he rode towards the front gate. “A thousand years ago, we came to this world in peace! Through the strength and unity of our republic we reached out and took command of the moon itself! For the better of all mankind we achieved greatness…” More and more Samurai gathered around. “These Equestrians, these usurpers of power, they come to our lands and seek to take what we have fought these many centuries to protect! For too long we have allowed these invaders to grow freely like a disease, for too long have we lived under the fear that the other shoe will finally fall…”

Cassidy and Twilight stood in their respective portions of the camp, watching and listening for the first time to a speech that had likely been rehearsed and rehearsed over the past five hundred years. For Razor Grass, it was the most chilling thing he could’ve possibly imagined. Shogun Altair was supposed to be mute, quiet, easily overpowered… And yet his voice was powerful, and more importantly… Wrathful. Even if he couldn’t understand what was being said, he got the message loud and clear… Altair was pissed.

“I stand before you and declare that we will no longer fear the Equestrians! We will no longer fear their guns and their bombs! We will no longer stand idly by as our people steadily lose ground in a war of attrition!” The Shogun drew his sword and raised it high over his head, the sun glistened off the sharpened steel, striking a sense of panic into Razor Grass. “Let this be known as the last day of the Onorussian Republic… Let the Republic rest. Send riders to each tribe, and tell them that the Occisor Shogunate has arisen! Begin the New Moon!” A cheer went up through the crowd as Altair and the other warriors road out the front gate, riding along with them were the dragoons, archers, and all manner of other soldiers, including numerous scouts… One to ride to each individual Onorussian tribe and give them the word that Altair Occisor had finally claimed his rightful place as leader of the Onorussian people.

Altair gritted his teeth behind his mask as he road along down the mountain, the thunder of hooves echoing behind him as he lead his men towards the coming battle. He wasn’t about to charge headlong into battle with the Equestrians, no, he was going to set up the most lethal battlefield scenario he could… Then he would watch as the Equestrians walked right into it. It was something he had called ‘The New Moon’ in his book. His subordinates knew what to do, they had been over this battle plan dozens of times before, though they had never needed to put it into practice before.

General Custard watched a cloud of dust descending the mountainside, likely the result of the Onorussians as they would undoubtedly put up a heavy fight… At least, until they got a look at the new guns that Custard had to play with. For all he knew, defeating the Occisor Clan would be the final nail in the coffin for the rest of the tribes, removing any hope that the Onorussian people could be unified again could’ve very likely forced them to surrender.

“Sir! We have reports of a massive amount of scouts riding away from the field, towards the other tribes by the looks of it!” One of the soldiers announced while looking through a pair of binoculars.

“Likely as a last ditch effort to get them to help, but I doubt they will if their precious Shogun isn’t willing to talk!” Custard announced once again, confident that this time they would have the upper hand against the Onorussians and their kind. It was true that both sides had ancient tanks and guns at their disposal, but they were in such short supply that they were practically useless… But now, now Equestria had the means and resources to produce gatling guns and rifles, something the Onorussians lacked. “Deploy on that ridge to the north, we’ll catch them as they come charging through the valley.”

Custard’s men went about moving the gatling guns up onto the ridge in question, the angle gave them a good field of fire on anything that would come down through the valley. The valley was the only direct route to the battlefield, a choke point perfect to be used against an enemy that’s main strength was the cavalry charge. Putting one’s strongest weapons at an elevated position was a time honored military tradition, but it also made adapting a strategy much more difficult. With their weapons fixed in position the Equestrians were putting most of their eggs in one basket.

Custard sat atop his new mount and watched as the cloud of dust drew closer and closer, the distant rumble of hooves echoed across the fields. Each soldier readied his musket or sword as they lay in wait, watching the cloud of dust getting closer and closer. Then, suddenly and without warning, the cloud stopped forming and was gradually carried off by the wind… Indicating that the Onorussians had stopped their charge short, though for what purpose Custard couldn’t tell, as there was dense tree cover in that section of the forest.

“Hey… Does anyone hear violins being plucked or something?” Asked one of the soldiers, a couple others nodded. Gradually the light of the sun began to grow dim, Custard and his men looked up… They spotted a cloud blotting the sun out, but not a cloud of water vapor…

“Take cover, lads!” Custard yelled as he hopped off his horse and dove for cover beneath the closest wagon. His soldiers followed suit, dozens of stallions dove for cover under anything they could, but the majority of them were caught out in the open. Custard looked out from under the wagon, where several others had taken cover, as the storm finally rained down on the land. Arrows, crude arrows made of wood, they impacted the ground and anyone not under cover. Despite their numbers they were still rather ineffective, save for the fact that they impaled nearly thirty soldiers in one form or another. They were wounded only, for the most part, but that still cut Custard’s force in half.

Eventually the rain of arrows came to a halt, gradually and carefully the other soldiers came out to begin tending to the wounded. Custard was shaken up, but at least he had survived… If that was the best the Onorussians could do then it was likely the battle would still go well, even with only half of his soldiers.

“Look!” One of the soldiers cried, pointing a trembling finger towards the trees. From within burst a massive horde of men on horseback, they were screaming and cheering like mad men riding from the deepest pits of hell. Custard was surprised he didn’t see the Shogun leading the charge, which begged the question… Where was the Shogun.

“Tenno heika banzai!” A voice roared to Custard’s left, the stallion and his soldiers looked over as dozens of Samurai rushed forward on horseback. Each of them screaming just as crazily as the others, Custard felt his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t take on a foe from two angles, half of his gun crews were wounded, he’d barely have enough to stop one force. What was more, the gun crews weren’t nearly as effective with rifles as they were with gatling guns, and they didn’t have enough men to even man two of the five guns effectively. In other words… The Onorussians had taken the gatlings out of the equation, and Custard did not like the math now that he had lost his force multiplyer.

“Gentlecolts! Prepare to defend yourselves!” Custard yelled before drawing his revolver, the Equestrians began firing with their muskets, but with no direction they hit both the riders and ground forces ineffectively as opposed to hitting one with moderate effect. The first row of each force took minor casualties, and after the first volley the Equestrians rifles became little more than fancy, expensive clubs. Custard caught sight of the Fang Mask among the men on the ground, the Shogun Altair was charging straight at him with his sword at the ready. Several soldiers tried to block him, but Custard could only watch as the Shogun’s sword sliced them like butter. One soldier lost an arm, the other was simply cut vertically in half, all the while the Sogun was screaming like some sort of demon.

Custard tossed his revolver to the ground and drew his sabre, his gun would be useless to him at the speed the Shogun was covering ground. The two leaders clashed blades, sparks flying from the General’s sabre as it met the tough Lunar Steel of the Shogun’s sword.

“I like the way you fight, boy!” Custard grunted, the Shogun pulled back and took another swing, this time the General’s sword snapped when the blades crashed, regular steel was no match against Lunar steel. The stallion used what was left of his sword to try and stab the Shogun, only for the blade to bounce off the thick armor. Custard felt a hard punch to his chest from the Shogun, he fell to the ground and looked up. Two more of his soldiers tried to take on the Shogun, but again their weapons were useless against the armored juggernaut. The first soldier was run through the gut by the Shogun’s sword while the second was grabbed by the back of the skull and headbutted against the hard metal edge of the Shogun’s helmet. Custard scrambled to his feet and picked up a sword from one of the dead soldiers, the Shogun turned and grunted as he swung once again.

Custard took another step back each time the Shogun came at him, until finally he was backed up against one of the gatling guns with nowhere else to run. Custard dove to the side, grunting in pain as one of the arrows that littered the ground caught his forearm and left a nasty gash. As Custard began to climb back to his feet he felt a powerful hand grab his collar and yank him backwards, the stallion landed on his back, staring up into the rage filled eyes of the Shogun.

“I like the way you die, old man.” The Shogun hissed before he thrust his sword down into Custard’s gut, the General groaned in pain as he felt Shogun Altair twisting the blade in his stomach. The man then drew the blade from his victim and watched as the General’s eyes turned hazy, and just like that, another Equestrian had been killed. Altair stood up to his full height and looked around at the rest of the Equestrians that were starting to run off, the man clapped his hands a couple times, prompting one of the horses among the riders to come towards him. Altair climbed up onto the back of the horse and gave it a quick smack on the rear. “Yaaaah! Yaaah! C’mon!”

Half a dozen Equestrians were sprinting as fast as they could away from the battle, each looking over their shoulder as the Onorussians honed in on them. One of them screamed as Altair rode past, slashing him with the sword. Two more were in Altair’s path, so he took them down as well, leaving the rest for the other warriors to mop up.

[♠]

Twilight sighed to herself as she adjusted her new clothes, they weren’t that bad looking actually, a long coat dyed a dark blue, complimented by her purple sweater and a pinkish scarf helped to keep her warm, though her midriff was a little exposed, as her sweater had shrunken somewhat in the wash. The woman also wore a pair of olive drab pants and black combat boots, something she was assured would serve her better than a skirt, knee high socks, and sneakers. For the moment though, the young woman was busy looking over some of the ancient artifacts that the Onorussians had at their disposal. Honestly it was a little ahead of Twilight’s world, but only just, even for things that were over a thousand years old.

People had just been giving things like that to her all day, as soon as they heard she was interested in ancient technology they all seemed to have one item or another. Some were used as doorstops, paperweights, even cutting boards… All of them had held up extremely well, with several notable exceptions. Though there was no way on earth Twilight would be able to get one to work on its own, she knew that if she took parts from the other machines she could possibly cobble together some sort of working device. Of course, to Razor Grass, it was just junk that she was playing with out of boredom.

“You know, a hammer would work just as well to destroy that junk and it would be ten times as fast.” Razor said flatly while he reclined against the burned out wreck of a car that was serving as part of the compound wall. Twilight looked over at him with a bit of a scowl, but Razor didn’t care much, as it was likely the Onorussian war party would be destroyed and he would soon be free.

“I’m not trying to destroy them, I’m trying to repair them.” Twilight replied in a biting tone while she used some crude tools to connect a couple circuits. “I’m hoping that if I can get them working they’ll be able to help me find a spell home…”

“Or you could take me up on my offer, that would be easier…” Razor Grass said with a shrug, Twilight ignored his comment as she continued to work on the device. Razor sighed and leaned back against the car, watching the citizens of the village as they went about their daily routines… Some cooked, some cleaned, some trained… It was all very much like an Equestrian village, though it lacked the refinery that Razor was accustomed to. “Amazing they’ve survived this long, living out of shacks and huts…”

“Perhaps it’s because they put more time into their armor and weaponry?” Twilight mused, Razor was about to protest… But to be fair, once again the offworlder had a point. The Onorussian method of making steel, armor, and swords was far better than that of the Equestrians. Equestrians valued quantity over quality, while Razor had observed blacksmiths in the Onorussian village slaving over the same blade for two days straight, folding steel in a manner that the Equestrians would call unnecessary. He hated to admit it, truly he did, but while the Equestrians had numbers and a more civilized society, the Onorussians had quality equipment and devotion to their cause.

“Almost a shame, really… Knowing that all this will be gone one day…” Razor said as he crossed his arms. “I’m sure some Equestrian will figure out how to make swords close to their quality, but… I doubt anyone will ever do it the same.”

“You sound like the war is already over.” Twilight said flatly as she looked at Razor. “Just to be clear, I’m not supporting either side, I just want peace… Hopefully, now there may be a chance at that…” Razor raised an eyebrow. “Oh… Right, you don’t speak their language… I assume you saw Shogun Altair earlier this morning?” Razor nodded. “It seems that he is trying to unite the other clans under his rule, or more accurately, his and Chieftess Cassidy.”

“Wait… What?” Razor Grass asked in shock. “The Onorussians…. They’re…. Unifying?” Twilight nodded, Razor leaned back and rubbed his temples. It was bad enough facing the Onorussians one tribe at a time, but unified… Razor had to warn his people, he had to make a move soon or else he would likely be faced with the real possibility of an Onorussian victory. The man looked around quickly, most of the guards had left to fight in the battle, but that didn’t mean Razor could just waltz out the front gate. Then it hit him… He was leaning against his escape route. The stallion opened his eyes and looked behind him, sure enough there was a gap in the cars making up the walls, just big enough for someone of his size to slip through if they held their breath. Cars were great for stopping large attacks, but they had too many knocks and crannies to be effective at stopping someone at getting out if they really wanted to…

“Say, Twilight. Have you tried using a crystal rifle cell to power that device of yours?” Razor asked with a fake helpful tone… Twilight froze, and the stallion knew he had set the bait well, the look of thought on her face told him she was calculating the possibilities of such a device working… “I’m sure the chieftess would let you borrow one.”

“It could work… Thank’s Razor!” Twilight said as she quickly got up and rushed towards the chieftess’ shack. Typical excitable savages, even off worlders were impulsive and unthinking…

“No… Thank you.” Razor said under his breath before he began shimmying his way through the car. It was a rather tight fit, and at any moment his movement could’ve caused the whole wall to come down on top of him, but that didn’t stop him. Within a couple minutes he was squirming out the other side of the wall, while inside he could hear the sounds of a Frantic Twilight Sparkle and then the yells of the numerous hunters and huntresses. Razor Grass grunted as he began sprinting down the mountain as fast as he could, hoping to get some sort of lead ahead of the hunters that would pursue him. If he could find a horse he’d be able to outrun them… He just needed to find one first, but he trusted that someone up above wanted him to succeed.

Author's Note

Y’know, I like this chapter well enough, but lately I’ve been just worried my quality has gone down... I feel like I’ve let you guys down. Lately I feel like I’ve let a lot of people down, not just you guys, which is why I’ve had such a hard time writing lately. Anyway, that’s all from me...

Here’s your song of the day, I guess.