Author's Note

Little something I’m gonna try and see if it sticks. A For Honor/MLP Fall of Equestria fic.

Huge shout out to Valiant Charge and his stories that inspired me. BTW I also don’t truly care for FoE that much.

Last off I will ask for at least 4 different OCs from anyone who reads this. Looking for a Viking (caribou), a Samurai (changeling), a Knight (pony), and a Wu Lin (dragon or kirin). I will also accept warriors of other race such as yak, hippogriph, griffin, and so on. I just need a character sheet like so:
Name:
Class:
Gender:
Affiliation:
Species:
Personality:
Notable physical traits if any:

Please leave your submissions here:

https://www.fimfiction.net/group/214627/casting-call-foe-blood-and-honor/thread/419545/casting-call-for-fanfic-foe-blood-and-honor

Now onto the story.

Warborn

When Dainn took control of Equestria that was the darkest day for most. But as the old saying :

It is always darkest before the dawn.

This is how we brought about that dawn.

5 years into Dainn's rule

??? POV

‘Hello'
‘There they are.’
‘Get up boy’
‘They call to me’
‘You need to find her'
‘I will, I will find her’
‘Then get up’
‘NOW’
In a dark dungeon light suddenly erupts from the doorway as a tall adult caribou dressed in leather armor entered carrying a small bowl.
“Dinner time you little shit.” He said to the lone figure who sat slumped over motionless at the far side of the room a metal collar with spikes on the inside chained to the wall. “HEY! You hear me?” The caribou yelled walking over and kicking the foot of the prisoner. This appeared to wake the prisoner who only looked up at him with hate and disgust. “What got something to say?” The caribou mocked and like a bolt of lightning, the prisoner jumped at the caribou latching onto him and sinking his teeth into the caribou’s neck. After a quick yell of pain, the prisoner was thrown to the floor chuckling maniacally. “Little bastard! Starve down here!” The caribou cursed storming out of the cell slamming the door closed.

The prisoner chuckled pulling out a key and quickly found that it was not for the chain but for the door. He yelled in anger as moonlight filled the room from a small window. As the moonlight hit him it revealed him to be a young caribou himself probably no more than 20. Across his body were scars and markings he wore only a pair of torn pants muddied and disgusting on his head were two antlers that looked to be snapped off and trying to grow back with a mane in a tight braid running down the middle of his scalp. The prisoner’s yells out into the open night his voice booming like a war horn.

--- Elsewhere ---

In a large mead hall, a large group of caribou sat in almost complete silence only broken up by coughing or scraping of utensils. In the chief’s chair sat a caribou with large antlers, scars covering his face and his hair and coat gray with age. Next to him sat a very tall younger caribou resting his elbows on the table and his head on his hands his expression one of anger and concern his brown eyes seemed to burn red with anger but seemed to also be thinking so hard you could feel it.

“Something on your mind my son?” The older caribou asked.

“This place used to boom with the sounds of celebration each and every night…now we starve as the snow seeks to consume us.” The young caribou spoke with a deep growl of anger. “We are the Warborn clan why do we no fight Dainn’s rule?”

“My son our people are too few in number and some cannot even stand let alone swing a sword.” The chief spoke. “But when your time to lead comes, Ivor, you can march right into his throne room and face him in single combat.”

“I don’t wish for you to see Valhalla yet father,” Ivor said lightly smacking his father’s arm both giving a light chuckle.

The hall was soon disturbed by a banging on the main doors. Before any could answer it the doors flew open revealing a group mixed of caribou and ponies came in each having an evil laugh to each other and brandishing armor with the Stonehoof symbol on it. As they entered all eyes turned to them a few females ushered any children and young girls to the back as the adult females a protective line in front of them. The lead of the group, a pegasus, then spoke up. “Greetings Lord of the Warborn clan.”

“And the same to you, but why does the king’s army enter my hall?” The chief asked.

“We wish to take on food, drink, and…” He stopped eyeing one of the females. “Perhaps some ‘hospitality’ if you know what I mean?”

This broke Ivor's rage making him stand knocking over his chair. “We have NOTHING!” He spat out. “Our water is all but poison, our food runs low and what we do have is rotting or stale, now you dare try to and even suggest you touch any of our clan?!” Ivor screamed hopping the table and walking right up to the leader. “Either get out now or I will pull the FUCKING life out of you by hand.” The leader of the group laughed along with his men.

“One raider against six knights of his majesty's royal army? You Warborn must be known for your humor almost makes me forget that you just threatened me…almost, take them and burn this place with him in it.” The leader spoke turning to his men before turning back to look at Ivor with an evil smile. As he turned back he saw nothing but rage on Ivor's face before he was met with a boot into his chest sending him flying back into the rest of the group.

“SWORD!” Ivor yelled and one of the bystanders instantly threw a blade to him. Catching the sword he began fighting the remaining of the knights pushing them out the door. “I’m no raider, I am a warlord!” Ivor said as one of the group charged at him sword drawn but was immediately knocked down and a hoof stomped on his neck snapping it with a sickening crunch. The rest of the knights stood drawing weapons to fight each charging at the large caribou who quickly dispatched all of them save for the last one who had disappeared. “Where are you coward?” He called demanding the leader show himself.

“Over here…with a little something.” The leader said with a smile. Turning he saw the leader had a small child and a knife to the young calf's neck. Ivor stopped in his tracks. “Now…why don’t you be a good lad and surrender…or maybe you prefer this one’s blood on your hands.” He spoke pressing the knife into the young one’s neck more. “Well? What will it be?”

“I already told you what will happen,” Ivor said as one of his ears gave a brief twitch he quickly moved his head to the side as an arrow flew passed and hit the leader in the shoulder releasing the calf unharmed who quickly ran passed Ivor back to his mother who stood next to Ivor’s father still holding the bow the arrow had been fired from. Ivor turned giving his father a brief smile and nod before walking towards the down pegasus. “Bring me some chains!” He called dragging the leader by his mane to a large tree. As he was handed large chains he threw the knight against the tree and with the help of two other warriors help bind him to the tree with his back pressed against it. “Now to make good on my word.” Ivor then took out a knife from his belt and tearing off the armor of the pegasus making a shallow cut just below the chained up pegasus’s sternum, Ivor then dug his hand into the cut ignoring the cries and screams. What he did next shocked nearly every onlooker, slowly he pulled his hand back out a still connected and beating heart there and in the open. “You disrespected my home, clan, and people you die now,” Ivor said and yanked hard ripping the heart from its owner.

The pegasus looked on blood spilling from his chest and mouth as life faded from him. Ivor cast the heart aside and returned to his father who looked stone-faced at his child. “You acted on impulse, you went against your father’s wishes, and you let your emotions cloud your judgment…” Ivor rolled his eyes. “You acted as a chief should act…kneel…” He said shocking everyone but Ivor complied taking a knee his sword stabbed into the ground. “I Einar of the Warbon here by pass my right as chief to you, my son, Ivor, will you accept and lead our people as your own blood?”

“I will,” Ivor answered knowing exactly what his father was doing.

“Then I, Einar of the Warborn, your father here by name you: chief. Now rise and lead your people.” Einar smiled as his son rose.

They say a warlord values life. He would find peace with his worst enemy to ensure his people would be safe, he would grow a farm to feed 100 clans if there was nothing to eat, but in war…that is where the name is earned. They lead the charge and right now Ivor knew exactly where to lead his charge first.

“Gather everything we can, we make for Canterlot!” Ivor called and ever member of the clan who could hold a blade rushed and did as commanded.

“CHIEF!” A young bull called running over to him. “They have a caravan.” The young bull panted as he stopped in front of Ivor. Following the young bull to three large wagons pulled by a large woolly animal with huge tusks, two looked fairly normal but the last seemed to be a prison cart. Looking in the first two they found weapons, clothes, and a large amount of food.

“THE GODS SMILE ON US EVERYONE!” Ivor called as several other caribou came overtaking and passing out food to everyone as Ivor made his way to the last cart with two female caribou. Ivor took his sword and smashed the lock off the ripping the door open. What they saw in the wagon made each of their stomachs churn with disgust. Chained to each side of the wagon were a dozen female caribou and ponies of various races all and at the back were two earth pony mares who seemed to be set aside for a reason that they didn’t know. One had an orange-colored coat with a blonde name who was cradling and rocking a mare with a pink mane and coat who was sobbing and shaking. As Ivor stepped into the cart looking at all the prisoners each with a black collar around all their necks and lucky to have rags for clothes they returned his gaze looking in fear at the large bull. But the orange mare looked at him with anger and fire in her eyes. “Find the keys,” Ivor spoke in a low voice. “And bring them something to cover up with, and food.” Ivor then approached the orange mare and crouched down in front of her. They simply stared at each other before she spoke.

“Whatever you’re going to do leave them out of it, I’ll take it all.” She hissed in pure venom.

“I’m going to set you free.” He said plainly. “All I ask for is you and your friend’s names.”

She stared at him before sighing. “I’m Applejack, this is Pinkie Pie, everyone else here I don’t know.” After her answer, a female caribou walked in with several blankets and some fruit beginning to pass each out before throwing a key ring to Ivor who began unlocking the chains starting with Applejack and Pinkie Pie. “Thanks.” Applejack said rubbing her wrists Pinkie, however, didn’t move from her head buried in the other mare’s chest. “Pinkie? Piiiiinkie? We’re safe now.” But the mare wouldn’t move.

“Bring them into the hall sit them close to the fire, I need to get something,” Ivor said as several female Iron-tusk warriors helped them into the mead hall with AJ and Pinkie sat close to the fire Pinkie still not removing her head from her friend's chest. AJ was starting to get worried until her friend started to sniff, not in a sad way like she smelled something over the burn wood as her head shot up and started sniffing.

“Pinkie? What is it?” Applejack asked as she stood and turned on a heel turning to see Ivor holding a small cloth with a sort of small cake topped with icing sitting on it.

“This is a sweet roll,” Ivor said offering it to Pinkie. “Here you look like you could use it, my mother always made them for me when I was younger.” The pink mare looked at the pastry before ripping off a piece and quickly ate it. Pinkie's eyes shot open as she started devouring the rest of the cake. “Always cheered me up,” Ivor stated then suddenly was pulled into a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Pinkie cried tears of joy. “My blood sugar was super low.” She said plainly. “Also I have to get the recipe for this thing.” She smiled holding up the sweet roll.

“Not a chance, it’s a family secret.” Ivor laughed patting her head. “Now everyone get some sleep we’ll make for the coast in the morning.”

As the newly crowned chief walked away the now liberated slaves huddled around the fire a rare luxury for them, soon all were falling asleep with Applejack and Pinkie one of the last two to be awake. “Can we trust them?” Pinkie asked the farm pony as he picked at the last of the sweet roll.

“We have to for now,” AJ answered. “But the second even one of them tries anything I’m gonna take one of those axes and get us all out of here.” She eyed them her gaze landed on Ivor sitting in the chief’s chair resting his head on his fist snoring. “Starting with him if I have to.” As the fire crackled and the wild blew outside the entire hall fell into a quiet sleep unaware of the storm that they would soon walk into.