The Equestrian General [ RAW ]

Chapter 1 [edited partly by Nitro Indigo, -]

A Cave System, Somewhere In Urzikstan
May 19th, 17:21
Lieutenant Maynard Mineheart

A sharp, loud impact can be heard as a fist makes contact with a man's stomach, followed by a grunt and a loud hiss. A dozen men surround a single stripped and beaten lieutenant, named Maynard Mineheart. He was tied to a pole which was used to support the cave system his captors resided in. The lieutenant, despite his injuries, finds it intriguing how such a cave system came to be.

Another punch causes the lieutenant to cough. "You killed my brothers, you bombed our villages, and you sacked our glorious nation!" The torturer yells in his native tongue, his spit littering the lieutenant's face.

The lieutenant had never been so ecstatic yet so afraid for his life. For one, he has a vague idea of the tunnel system’s location that harbored this ragtag rabble army of terrorists before him, but that idea is compromised with his possible execution from his captors, an outcome becoming more and more plausible as his captors went on his monologue about the crimes and terror of his people, which is ironic.

The punch that came next turned his world upside down as he felt a fist make contact with the side of his cheek. "Do you think we will not punish your people for desecrating the land God has given us!?" The torturer breathes sharply, his anger seemingly on the tip of vehement execution.

=UNEDITED=

Once the lieutenant has recovered he inhales sharply, with breathing now labored he found it in his interest to banter with his captors, despite the very real threat to his life.

"That is funny, You were the first to harm my people, the first to pull the trigger and the first to have proclaimed my people like the plague of the world." The lieutenant spoke in the native tongue of his captors, they visibly flinched at this fact.

The lieutenant raised his head slightly eyeing the bloodied fist of his torturer with what remains of his vision, his torturer for his part remained stoic despite being caught off guard for a heathen to have spoken the words of his people.

"I really do find your language pleasant to the ears, despite being spoken by a barbarian, It is soothing.” The lieutenant slightly grinned. "All good things always have a price, your people once have great as you said, then the overzealous that you currently possess just had to poison that-"

"Silence heathen! Do you think you know my people!?His torturer cut his speech short with a backhanded slap, earning a hurtful frown from the lieutenant.

I do. The lieutenant wished he could rebut, it is in fact how he has achieved small and great victories against this very rabble before him, learning the history and culture of his enemies has given him ideas of their thought process, predicting their actions to several successful degree, but alas, no plan survives the enemy. Humans are prone to mistake after all and he is no greater than man.

Although he does wonder, how they had managed to find his convoy on route to an airbase, could it have been luck? coincidence? Most likely, but he gives his enemies their respect for at least knowing who he was and spare him the fate of his men. He inhales sharply once more, as much as he expects such action of an ambush he doesn't seem to have at least thought to apply it to himself as soon as he departs from the occupied capital towards their destination.

Now he had been captured, beaten, and quite possibly beheaded or sprayed a hail of bullets all over his body, or spared him the trouble he already has and be disposed of with a single shot in the head, that he cannot surely predict but at least he has an idea.

"You may know the words I speak but I do not wish to hear it from your heretical tongue." His torturer stepped back asking a weapon from his fellow captors and they oblige attentively, handing him a very well adorned machete.

The lieutenant could not hold back his swallow as he witnessed the well-polished blade slip from the captor to his torturer, as much as he does not mind admiring such a fine weapon he does not want it to get near his tongue or neck or any part of his body at all with the intention of severing.

With the prospect of being rescued a far reality, all that he could do is nothing and await his faith that his captors will lay before him, he silently contemplates what to actually do with himself in order to get out but as his mind was hastily formulating a plan of action in order to save himself from his demise he was suddenly taken out of it as a solid black box was placed down before him.

Upon closer look, it was a camera and the beeping red color at its top corner was an indication of recording, as his torturer put on a fabric that covers most of his face save for a slip for his eye to view out, it was now that the lieutenant realizes that he was no longer going out alive.

He felt a rather strong grip on both his shoulders as he was then gagged, a form of precaution possibly, and now that he was forced to look forward presenting his beaten face to the camera for all who may witness its content, the very real feeling of his heart pumping faster than he was more than caring to admit, he was scared.

When his torturer, now executioner, stands tall beside him, he asks if the camera was rolling properly and a final affirmation sealed the lieutenant's, Maynard's, fate.

"Heathens! Witness as I end the life of your precious General, his devilishly cunning reign of terror on our glorious and holy land of Urzikstan will now cease." He placed the blade closely on Maynard's cheek, slightly gashing it, but he could not hold his snort from them, mistaking his rank.

"You think I'm a General? How flattering-"

"Silence, imbecile! Witness heathens as I end your campaign of unrighteous and foolish defiling of our motherland!" The executioner raised his blade overhead and the men holding Maynard held his head down, tenses in anticipation for the very end of his life.

"God is great! He finds you guilty of desecrating his land and people! Die heathen!!"

With a sharp swish of his blade, Maynard can feel the slight painful jiggle from his neck before his vision fell to the floor, a cold sensation in his neck then he feels nothing with the last thing he witnesses before blacking out forever was the muffled speech of his executioner as his vision swiftly shoot up weightlessly.

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As Maynard seemingly drifts to an endless void he finds a sense of peace, although he is aware of his rather savage and untimely death he does ease to this new way of life? living? existence? he is not sure how to describe this truly anomalous phenomenon as he contemplates whether this was the afterlife. He feels a rather strong presence emanating in a specific but indescribable direction, he cannot see but he can feel.

He feels this newly arrived presence to what this void was as it resonates with it and then he feels a slight tug at his being? presence? soul? it was gentle and alluring as it kept tugging at him from afar. Little by little he was captivated by this strange presence pulling him into its origin.

This action of tugging and caressing went on for an indefinite amount of time while the presence that was responsible for this action was getting stronger and more prominent each movement.

"Equestria... you... we... need..." A soothing voice of a female began to emanate alongside the presence ahead of Maynard feeling the wavy current of the voice.

"I call upon... Equestria needs a... to aid us..." the voice continued as the tugging became yanking. It was rather intrusive but the voice was easing Maynard to obey the flow towards presence.

Soon enough the presence was seemingly in front of him and when he wonders what happens next a beam of light blinded what sense of sight was left from Maynard, as he feels gravity reintroduced to him along with his own weight, he can hear someone's gasp, fresh air forced itself on his lungs, and finally he rediscovers the familiar and unfamiliar feeling of his own body.

Despite all this odd experience Maynard underwent, the familiar feeling of gravity pulling him down made him aware that he was now falling from his levitated state of being as he was still blinded. He could not confirm how high he was and how painful it would have been when he did make contact with the ground but he does not have the will or the strength to even brace for the impact.

However he was surprised to discover when he can feel a warm sensation all over his body of which he eases comfortably in its hold to a fast sleep, unaware of his levitating frame a few inches off the polished floor, a pony of great stature was in the midst of open hooves to catch the limped body in case of magical instability she breathe laboriously with the tell tale of a summoning slowly fading just under her.

Once the pony had found the ease to breathe more congenial it stood on its hooves witnessing the success of its power to bring upon its kingdom, a hero? a leader? or a lost soul who has no such trait at all? The pony can only speculate as it allows its new guest to settle for now, the pony has done its part and hopes that it was worth such effort.

"For Tia, my friends, and Equestria." The pony spoke to no one as she settled her guest in her abode.