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L33t training. The training was rough. The toughest around. Only the tremendously l33t stood a chance of success, much less promotion amongst the l33t. The l33t ponies of the 131st l33t prancers division in their vast l33tness followed in the hoofsteps of the tremendously l33t who came before them. Their divisions mastery of l33tness was legendary, the stuff of l33t songs and prose. Why, they were so l33t and agile on their hooves they could practically dance circles around all others claiming to be l33t. Their l33tness knew no bounds. These l33t prancers were nearly the very embodiment of l33t. Their l33tness was just neigh short immeasurable. Where the l33t ponies trod, the very ground was worshiped by those hoping the l33tness would rub off on them.
Yet one division stood above even them. They were the l33t of the l33t. The greatest l33t force, the ultra l33t honor guard were personally picked by their commander, those driven by the sheer desire to be absolutely l33t. The exuded l33tness of their division was palpable in the air. Simply being in their presence made one feel l33t by association. They were L33t division 1337. Soon, L33t enemy forces began to pale in comparison, crushed beneath their mighty l33tness. Enduring harsh battle after battle, honing their l33tness to a razors edge. During l33t campaign 1337, formerly their greatest clash, the l33t honor guard smashed through thirty thousand l33t foes within only three hours. A l33t record which stood for 1337 years within the Halls of L33t.
Since their inception the l33t archives chronicled one l33t victory after another. Soon the l33t forces swarmed over the world, bringing peace. But as with many things a dark side hidden, after long years peace fell, yet soon arose a falsehood amongst the l33t. The Bearers of the Word of L33t, a corrupting influence upon their purpose, twisting l33tness into zealotry and hatred. Soon came to rage total war consuming the world. The fanatical aims of this secretive heretical branch amongst the l33t became more than a thorn in the side of the l33t forces in the year 1337 B.L. - L33t factions soon turned on one another as endless battle raged across the planet between the most l33t, driven by the vast gulf of ideological divide.
L33t champions rose and fell in increasingly fever-pitched warfare, draining the ranks of the most l33t to a mere hoofful. The L33t Wars as they became known, raged across and between countless generations, ravaging the world and reducing the populace. The once mighty and proud l33t forces beleaguered and all but extinguished as brutal combat sapped all sides ever further. When hostilities broke out It was soon realized any attempts at peace negotiations would prove futile, pointless with ever present l33t assassins waiting to strike from within yet another faction seeking to gain advantage.
It is now the year 1337 A.L. - The world teeters on the brink of oblivion. L33t forces are all but exhausted, yet the Halls of L33t still stand, though smashed amidst the carnage surrounding them. The Halls of L33t were held at all costs by the ultra l33t honor guard. Broken L33t factions quickly learned it was the one target indestructible and to be left alone, lest they face the unbridled fury of the honor guard. A mistake was made in finally targeting them. Seven days and nights the defenders fought valiantly in a haze of battle. Practically filled with berserk rage brimming over when the halls were attacked, it was defended almost to the last of the ultra l33t guard. It’s golden gilded walls an unthinkable prize to lose. All combatants paid a hefty price on that final day. The Halls of L33t have not been so much as glanced at by Broken l33t enemy forces ever since. The halls defense perhaps the stuff of more songs and legends to come. Both sides suffered massive casualties. L33t forces fell shattered, even more Broken l33t combatants lay around them.
It took l33t forces months to count and inter the dead, the ever present war still swirling around the fringes of the battlefield. Skirmishes and outright battles sweep through the streets as running urban combat swallows up everything, l33t faction forces barely hold their defensive positions while guerrilla warfare hammers from all sides. Hit and run tactics wear heavily upon the l33t defenders. The main Broken l33t forces now in shambles after the epic battle over the halls, but can still not be pressed into submission. Other l33t factions stand poised to swoop in, though now more hesitant over the halls survival. The goal had been to destroy the halls and deal a lethal blow to l33t forces morale, failure to do so only driving it up further.
L33t forces headquarters still stand, but ablaze along with vast portions of the former capital city. The ultra l33t honor guard now holds only the most tenuous grasp over the very center of the city, surrounded by vying split l33t factions that want nothing more than their total annihilation so that they may claim the glory of their defeat. Spent munitions scattered through the streets speak only to the destruction wrought by the fury of war. Any time l33t forces recapture city sections they are met with terrible retaliation. Pushing back the constant assaults of Broken l33t draining dwindling resources all the more.
Statues of the l33t heroes of old once surrounding the city center nothing more than dusty memories in piles of rubble.
No easy targets remain. Soon l33t forces may crumble along with them and little relief in sight. The battle for the capital was a long time in coming. L33t forces held the surrounding countryside for 1337 days before caving and falling back within city limits. Holding the outskirts of the city for years before Broken l33t spies managed to secretly place an arcbomb on the outer defense walls. The shockwave from the blast was felt over a hundred miles away, signaling the beginning of the battle for the capital. Continual l33t urban warfare has lead to a battle of attrition in reverse order as battalions clashed. Ever more powerful weapons are brought to bear by all sides. Asides the few remaining honor guard only the slowly flagging l33t ponies armored division remains fully operational inside the smashed city walls, defending the only two functioning shield generators from ground assault. Desperately, whatever loyal l33t forces still roam the vast fire-engulfed ruins of the city mass for a final defensive stand.
Their acting commander stands proud amidst the surrounding wreckage, her eyes wild and keen. The last stallion to accept this post was surrounded and cut off from aid during the last incursion. He took down no less than forty enemy troops before succumbing to many dire injuries. She would not allow this. Nopony must harm the last generators or the final beacon of hope for renewed peace and order will be forever snuffed out. Their most dangerous foes, the bulk of the Broken l33t forces prepare their own final strike. Which of the warring factions would dare attack first? There could be no falling back from here. There was nowhere left to go. Both behind and afore lay only carnage and ruin. The very last of l33t forces were gathering here.
The violent toll of battles raging throughout the city rises to a crescendo of death. The l33t forces commander surveyed this from atop one of the once grand tiers of their headquarters. Little was left of it to defend. Only the two mighty shield generators kept some semblance of a city intact, safe from bombs above. The attack would come soon. Only terrible machines of war and armored ponies facing oncoming destruction are left amongst it all. Will l33t forces prevail against the nearly unstoppable Broken l33t faction? Weapons are raised and a proud unwavering l33t warcry fills the air when the enemy at last approaches. An oncoming storm of battle arises as cornered l33t forces attempt to defy their fate.
Author's Note
L33t enough for you?
