While the Great War raged in Equus, shattering the Pony dreams of peace as bitter resistance was made against the changeling forces, a grander, and worse war was being fought in the bloodied lands of Griffonia, where only the greed and bloodlust of the Griffons sang against the hopes and dreams of a better world.
The unthinkable had happened. Ferdinand Dawnclaw, the butcher of Griffinheim, “Lord Protector of the Empire”, seized power over the Empire, and by what seems to be extremely lucky circumstances, or the work of a cruel joke by Maar. The truth was, that the rest of the empire that joined to oppose the cruel dictator, was in as much flames and despair as was the capital. Revolution, local rebellions, and simple incompetence made Dawnclaw’s sweep across the Empire an extremely hard affair, but one he could meet with his forces of bloodthirsty legions.
The only sane place that seemed to be left, was the Republic, in the far, harsh North, where the government of Kemerskai and his right hand griff, Sunglider reside. With the conquest of the traitors in Skynavia, the peaceful annexation of Brantbeak, and the alliance with the fair kingdom of Vedina, the Republic had solidified a strong position in the North, but its ambitions lied beyond, never satisfied until the Pan-Griffonian dream would be realized…
It is 1017. Ten years since the beginning of the “Great Griffonian Wars.” And by all means, there’s no signs of it stopping soon...that was until the sun brought dawn...
JANUARY 12TH, 1017, 1400 LOCAL, NOUVEAU AQUILA, SOCIALIST REPUBLIC OF NOVA GRIFFONIA
The Ceasefire Accords
Sunglider disembarked from his aircraft, followed by his entourage of well-armed Republican troops, from the elite “Republican Knights”. Sunglider never cared for the monarchist term, “Knights”, for they were donned in modern gear and berets, rather than armor and full helms, although each one carried a sword, the finest enchanted blades from Equestria. He had to admit, however, it worked well on the people, who were still nostalgic for the old Imperial ways, after both he and Dawnclaw struck it down.
Dawnclaw was going to be here. The bastard that started this all, the murderer of millions, the reign of terror that would make a Discret blush. A griff so morally depraved, that he’ll slaughter a mere child to secure his own power, to hell if it was a royal or not! Sunglider rolled his eye as a thought crossed his mind that the traitor Suntail and Dawnclaw would get along quite famously, and it certainly wouldn’t be over their daybreak-based names.
“Remind me why we’re not here to personally shoot this disgusting griffin?” Sunglider whispered to his colleague, Kingfeather, ever so pragmatic, walking by his side.
“Terms of cease-fire, bringing a war to its halt, Sunglider. I’m sure Dawnclaw has the same ideas...but remember. We’re not here to negotiate with Dawnclaw.”
Sunglider shifted his eye to Kingfeather, to show his visible disgust at this situation. As he did, his gaze almost immediately turned back, as a crowd erupted in cheer as another Republican figure stepped out of the plane - Astler, representative of the Left-NRP. The similar-minded people of the former colony adored the figure from across the sea. Sunglider and Astler had their differences, hell, bad blood even, but he was still loyal - useful, even, an ambassador of much support between the Communist Nova Griffonia, and the Harmonist Republic.
Well, at least, he wished the Harmonist label held any water, anymore.
“That damn tyrant in Canterlot...can’t keep her hooves out of our feathers…” Sunglider mumbled, as the group of NRP leaders continued off the tarmac, soon followed by the small group of Vedinan ambassadors, which made the trip with them.
Through the terminal and to the street, they were assaulted by state media and press, not just from the Nova Griffonians, but from Equestrians as well, the propagandists of the Empress allowed free reign to operate during this momentous occasion. the group of ambassadors all scattered off into secure cars and convoys, driving through the industrial, smog-filled concrete jungle, and into the historical district in the center of the city.
Sunglider felt like he was in Aquilea, especially as he left the car, approaching the steps of the large, domed building in which the talks were to be held. He fixed his eyes on the draped red banners of Nova Griffonia, as well as the Tricolor, the Imperial Banner, and just as he found his eye on the red-white and blue of the Aquilean Republic, he heard a familiar accent shout from an approaching vehicle…
“Sunglider! My brother!” yelled his longtime ally, Theodore Verany, as Sunglider smiled slightly at the sight, approaching his stopped car. Past the Nova Griffonian cordon, many local griffs cheered at the arrival of the leader of the old country, the charismatic griff stepping out, smiling, and waving towards the crowd. “If only in better circumstances, mon ami.”
“If only in victory, mein freund.” Sunglider said, as the two embraced, Verany gave the fellow revolutionary a short kiss on the cheek, before moving to greet the other NRP representatives. He never cared for such Aquilean and Karthinian ways of greeting, but it was welcome in this trying time.
“Come, let’s all get inside before the Imperial delegation arrives...” Sunglider said, ushering the NRP and Aquilean representatives along with him.
“Hah. Best restrain my claws, because I was going to be the one to kill him.” Verany jested, as he followed along. It seemed that Verany was able to keep his spirits high in this situation, even when it meant possible destruction if things could go wrong. He still had that Revolutionary spirit.
The two delegations entered the hall, where waiting for them was Heinrich Redtail, the modestly dressed president awaiting their arrival.
“Gentlegriffs.” He calmly states, nodding in the direction of both the NRP and Aquilean delegation. Sunglider tipped his service cap back to him, while Verany bowed. “I’m glad you two came first. We need to talk. Follow me.”
Redtail brought them to a small coffee room off to the side, with no windows, and thick walls. A worker poured them all hot drinks, the delegations making idle chatter before Redtail finally spoke up.
“We’ve graciously offered our local presidium in Nouveau Aquilea, however, I’m fearing that you both will be the only ones to argue reason within it.” Redtail said, sipping his small, enamel cup of tea. “Dawnclaw and his lackeys will do all they can to poke the hornet’s nest, perhaps even plot to derail it completely. As much as I’d like to see the Princess...sorry, “Empress” of Equestria skewer the head of a child killer, she knows she can use this to justify a conquest against all of Griffonia. Including you two.”
“What about the Riverlands?” Kingfeather asked, expecting that their distant allies against Dawnclaw’s forces would provide some leverage against their negotiator.
“They’ll abandon you, Mister Kingfeather. You haven’t had to deal with the Equestrians as I have.” Redtail would say, shaking his head. “They’ll play into her hooves. Secure all they can so they can achieve a pony-favored settlement for this conflict. Maar willing if Dawnclaw doesn’t put a band on those Hellquillian friends of his…”
“It’s all why she’s here, isn’t it? Get the Riverlands on her side, or get them to stand by, so she can send her armies landing and marching straight to Griffinheim and Cloudbury...and we all know she outnumbers us in numbers, industry, and pure will to fight.” Sunglider spoke up. He was a Harmonist, but unfortunately, Equestria just made him and Verany the only sane ones left, and now he was proposing what would’ve sounded like insane conspiracy theories back in 1007. “Kemerskai, you’re a lucky bastard for retiring to the grave by now…” Sunglider thought.
“I wouldn’t think so completely, President Sunglider. Above all, she wants to wield her hoof with power across the globe, insanely sticking by her old ideals. If your griffs and Verany’s can stake out a ceasefire agreement without a hitch...she’ll think she won. A champion of peace and harmony across the world. Showing Dawnclaw, and the ‘faithless’ Republics the true meaning of Harmony and Friendship.”
“Faithless?”
“Her words, not mine, comrade.”
“Great. A diplomatic tango with an insane empress leading the largest and most advanced army in the world, an insane child-killing dictator that we’re trying to depose, his genocidal friends, and lastly, riverponies who care only for their own wellbeing.” Sunglider said, before staring down at his coffee. He sipped it, as the room fell silent. He sat with the only remaining Griffons who fought for and upheld the dream for a free and just world. Perhaps the only people left. And he was at the helm of it all.
“Gentlegriffs.” Sunglider said in a strong voice, standing up. “This might seem hopeless. But the future of all Griffons rests in our talons. If we let tensions escalate, we’ll be worshipping the Solar Empire and speaking Equestrian. But if we secure peace, Daybreaker will stay on her shores. We’ll prepare for the final liberation, lying in wait to fight again until she has her own matters to trifle with. Peace is our only option, at the moment.”
Soon after, Verany stood up, crossing his hand over his heart. Then Kingfeather, nodding in his usual, calm fashion, but flashing a small smile. Astler next, hands behind his back, replying. “We’ll stand behind you, as we did to Kemerskai.”
Redtail would finally stand up, raising his teacup as if it was a toast. “Well said, President. We have your wings, as we did in the war.”
Sunglider couldn’t help but smile. At what seemed to be the world’s end, he still had these griffs to stand by.
“So Maar help us, raise the night...”
As talks begin in Nova Griffonia, the battlefield seldom changes...
JANUARY 12TH, 1017, 0000 LOCAL, FEATHISIAN BATTLEFIELDS
Soren sat in the frontline-trench, where the fighting in the bloodied battlefields of Feathisia has been brought to a brutal halt, not by ceasefire, but perpetual stalemate.
With exhausted and low supplies on both sides of the war, one couldn't make a substantial gain on the front. Soren himself snoozed in the cold midnight breeze, leaning against him his magical lever-action rifle from the beginning of the war. It was better than one of the old bolt actions that some still had, but he always wished he could've been re-issued one of the new "fully automatic rifles" that have been leaving the assembly lines in large numbers. For now, the snowy owl-like griffon kept his gun by his side as he slept, one of his only friends out in the muddy, snowy hellhole that was Feathisia. He even gave it a name, "Stefan". His favorite nephew back in Winghagen.
Soren was abruptly awoken by what he thought to be an explosion, hearing a crackle after his eyes opened to blindingly bright light. He reached for Stefan, cocking the lever and turning his head about, looking through the trench. Other Griffons were sleeping, and others were startled awake like him. He heard other soldiers ready their weapons, as he locked his eyes over the edge of the trench, keeping silent as he got ready to shoot anything that would come over. His breathing became fast, heavy, as his heartbeat raced.
"Maar help me, don't make this the day..."
He squeezed the trigger, as something flew in the sky, he locked onto it with his sights...and it erupted into a blinding, white light, causing him to shut his eyes in reaction.
Mere illumination flares. Hopefully not to light an attack on them...
Soren looked to the others, who similarly calmed down, and went back to sitting...
A half hour later, Soren would find himself gathered around his squad, having lit a small fire for warmth in a wider area of the trench. The illumination flares hadn't ceased, and they couldn't find any ease to return to sleep. Hugging their rifles, and huddling around the fire, sharing their wings like blankets, it was silent until Soren decided to break it with some light conversation. Something big was going to happen soon, he read...something that might send them home.
"Any of you read the issue of Tricolor?" As the Swift of his squad, in the 44th Enchanted Division, he was in charge of all physical messages between his squad and others. While he carried a large radio on his back, it was nearly as reliable as delivering messages himself sometimes. He was typically able to get issues of the military newspaper, Tricolor, each time he had to carry messages back to the rear lines.
"You haven't shared yet." His squadmate, Karina spoke up, looking up to the owl. She was one of his older friends, a smaller buzzard, she was a survivor of many offensives across the years they've served. She stuck out her talon, smiling slightly as she expected him to hand over the paper. Soren reached into his satchel, handing the rolled up newspaper to her. It was caked slightly with mud, and damp, but was still legible.
She looked at the article, laying a set of round glasses over her beak as the other griffons around her leaned over to get a look. The buzzard adjusted and moved about the paper so she could see it from the firelight, until a flare lit up, giving them a full view of the headline. Soren felt an uncontrollable smile come across him as he watched each and every eye looking at the paper widen, and their beaks gape as they all read the words...
"CEASEFIRE? - THE ENTENTE IN NOVA GRIFFONIA TO BRING PEACE."
"By Maar..." Karina whispered. "We're going home!" She would look up to her friend from across the fire. "And you just shared us with this now?"
"Well..." Soren's expression would mellow. While he couldn't believe his eyes when he first saw it, especially with the more giddy attitude in the rear lines, he didn't exactly have a good feeling about it, and he didn't expect his squadmates to heed it completely.
"I don't think it's going to go anywhere, personally. They'll squabble, argue, and get back to the fight. Dawnclaw's the type of bastard to do that."
Karina would sigh, rolling up the paper. "They're still fighting three fronts. If Dawnclaw could accept that he'll have his little territory to call his own Empire, we can go back home...at this point, we're more Cloudburian than Herzlander, now, Soren. Maar, I see more Vedinan expatriates in our forces than Griffins from Strawberry now. Why should we fight for some old home that half of us weren't even born in? You should know, you were born in Winghagen!"
Soren gave it a bit of thought, staring straight into the fire. He did quite enjoy his freedoms, and loved the Republic, especially after seeing the horrors of Dawnclaw's regime in full during the siege of Rottendam...But he was a Cloudburian. He didn't want a parcel of Strawberry wine country or a nice apartment and job in Romau. He just wanted to go back to the shores he loved, to work on a boat or a ship. This war has made him hate land enough, already, and he couldn't fly for an eternity.
"I suppose you're right...Wouldn't hurt to head back home?"
Just as he said that, a hawk griffon walked up to the fire, fixed on the paper in Karina's lap. Camilla, from their sister squad, Gray Squadron. "Give me that." She simply said, snatching it up, looking at it. Karina and Soren simply looked at her, a bit befuddled at the griffon's anger.
"Bastards. Fucking bastards." She said, angrily rolling it back up, throwing it at Karina.
"Ah-Hey! What's your problem?"
"Learn to read, Karina? They're not doing this just because they want to send us home." She angrily spoke, crossing her talons. "We're getting screwed over, and you can't see that."
"What-are you talking about? We're going home! Aren't you happy? See your-" Just as Karina began to say that, Soren reached over, and clasped Karina's beak shut, her cheeks puffing up as he did so. He looked quite alarmed, and she only looked back to him with a confused look.
Camilla looked enraged at Karina, almost as if she could punch the griffon sitting in front of her, but she held her anger, only to speak up again. "I don't have a home, sorry that I wasn't born in Cloudbury, genius." She'd shake her head. "I'm from Katerinburg. My home is back in that bastard's claws, I don't even know if my fucking family is alive! Think I want to sit back? Relax while my people at home are used like puppets and brainwashed to follow this dictator?" She'd clasp the bridge of her beak, as she took a deep breath. Karina look like she was about to break out into tears, staring down at Camilla's paws.
"Camilla - I, I'm so sorry, I didn't..."
"No-no..." Camilla would interject, shaking her head. "It's not your fault. Just..." She'd grunt in anger, looking to the wall of the trench. It looked as if she was about to claw it apart. "I didn't volunteer for this fucking army because I wanted good pay or I wanted to defend Cloudbury. And I can assure you there's thousands of people like me still here. We're here because we're fucking Herzlanders - and we have homes back over there. We joined up because we wanted the Republic to save our people from the mad reign of nobles and kings - and worse, brutal dictators bleeding Griffons of every feather they have! And we're all just going to...drop our weapons? Because of some fucking ponies?!"
Camilla began to walk off, while the fire stood silent, the only noise of Karina's silent sobbing. Soren got up to hug her, bringing her close.
0400 LOCAL
The fire was slowly dying, as Soren and Karina sat back-to-back, both sleeping lightly, the flares no longer a bother to them. Soren slipped out of sleep, as he was shook by his sergeant.
"Corporal Skov." The red eagle-griffon said, as Soren looked up to him. "Grab a partner, and follow me."
Soren gulped, before he nodded. "Yes Sergeant." This wasn't any good sign. They were supposed to be heading home soon...was this an assignment? What was going on?
Soren then turned his head to Karina, still sleeping. If it was one griff he could trust...
He'd slowly shake her awake, the buzzard looking to him from the side lazily. He'd offer her a hand, as he stand up onto his four legs.
"What's going on?" She asked, grabbing her enchanted submachine gun off the ground as he helped her up. She would also grab her helmet, throwing it on and slapping it into place on her head.
"Orders, Karina..." Soren said, giving a stern, but trusting look to her. "Come with me." She only nodded back, as she slung her weapon onto her back.
The two would walk side by side, weaving through the trench system as they followed the sergeant. It was still in the early morning, with no light in the sky but the illumination flares. It was showing no signs of getting any warmer, the two standing close to keep warm from the wind.
"Going to tell us what this is about, Sergeant?" Soren said, as he wrapped his scarf around his head, putting his helmet over it.
"I'm sure both of you are aware of the current situation...It's of an urgent matter." The sergeant would look back to the two of them. "From what I'm hearing, lots of people can die." The sergeant would bluntly say. It surely wasn't a situation needing for careful dialogue or negotiation, like in Nouveau Aquila. This was a situation of life or death, for many griffons.
Traveling northwards from the front line, the three took flight once they reached the rear, a short few minutes they soared to reach the company headquarters - an old landowner's house, left vacant by Imperial forces, and reclaimed by Republican upper staff. They were farther from the sundered fields of the front lines where the war came to a stiff stalemate, but signs of damage from the earlier phases of the war were present. Destroyed trucks and tanks laid about, rusting away with little use left of their shells, with craters of past artillery barrages left in the vast plains.
They were ushered in by the guards in the headquarters, many of the lavish features of the house plundered long ago. Instead of paintings, maps, orders and telegrams littered the walls, as rooms now served as mini-command centers with each and every griff moving about them and ferrying orders and information. It was as if the command was trying to figure out every single thing they could do before the ceasefire would be called, without risking unneeded casualties. The sergeant would simply lead them through, pushing aside those who got in their way, before leaping up to the second floor with a flap of his wings, skipping the stairs.
They arrived before two ornate doors, before he looked back to his two subordinates. "Button up your collar and straighten your coat. Put those feathers down too. The Colonel is inside." The sergeant would point to the various bits of their uniform and person that were out of regulation, and both of them, silently but annoyed, would quickly correct themselves, before standing at attention, ready to enter and receive orders. The sergeant would open the doors, leading inside to a command room fashioned out of an empty master bedroom. They would be ushered towards the command table with a map and pins laid on top, and behind it, a large, eagle-looking griff. Clearly the colonel, marked by the insignia on his left sleeve.
Karina and Soren would render a salute, before the colonel would return it, speaking up. "Good morning, which one of you is Corporal Skov?"
"Me, sir."
"Excellent. And you are?" The colonel said, shifting his eyes to Karina.
"Private First Lind, sir."
"Outstanding. Onto business, then. I hear Corporal Skov is well-skilled with navigation and maps?"
"Yes sir. I used to work with my father, in the seas around Winghagen, sir."
"Perfect, because we need your particular set of skills."
The colonel would point to a small, hilly area on the map. "This is where we are. Over...here..." He would say, guiding his claw towards the enemy lines, past the entrenchments, before pointing at a pin bearing a tiny tricolor flag. "...is where Fifth Motor-Wing Battalion have decided to dig out. Nine miles to the South, six to the East. We were expecting our breakthrough to be able to funnel in reinforcements and take the town of Caratar before the Empire can send in its own. We were expecting victory within a few days. Those few days - we don't have."
The Colonel would hold up an open envelope, with an Aquilean fleur-de-lis on its stamp.
"This is a communique from the Aquilean intelligence network. They expect reinforcements to reach our target, Caratar, in a day. As you know the ceasefire order can be issued any day - Maar, hour now. If that happens...the fifth will be trapped behind Imperial territory, likely taken prisoner. Prompting more incident, and unnecessary casualties with no gain." The colonel would shake his head. "Worse, we were given a message that the Fifth had their long-range transmitter taken out by a tank, but decided not to retreat to regroup and repair."
"This is where you come in." The colonel would retrieve another envelope, as well as holding out the Aquliean one. "Take these to Lieutenant Colonel Ravn. She will likely be in their central dugout, within the small patch of wood here...northwest of Caratar. These are orders of strategic, complete retreat of her battalion, back past our static lines.
"Is it just us, sir?"
"Unfortunately. We've been able to halt major movements of Imperial forces attempting to encircle them, but we cannot risk more soldiers than we need to for this task, especially this close to ceasefire. Ravn is not aware of it, however, since they lost their communications before the memorandum arrived to our location. All we can do is provide a short hop with an aircraft behind the enemy lines - from there, you will have to fly on your own wings, due to the threat of heavy anti-air."
"How much resistance do you expect us to encounter, sir?"
"Not much, if you stay quick and quiet on your wings. If you deliver the message quickly enough, the battalion and our reinforcements should provide a quick exit for both of you out of danger."
"Yes sir. Will that be all?"
"Yes, corporal. Good luck. The airfield where your hop will be waiting is a half-mile to the north. They will be expecting you, ready to take off. We have a truck waiting in the courtyard to take you. So make haste." The colonel would nod, and the two would salute, before turning around, and walking out of the room.
The two sat silently at the door, before Soren looks to Karina.
"Soren, before we go, le-"
"Come on, we don't have time to waste! We must go!" Soren would interrupt, before grabbing Karina by the talon, pulling her along as he trotted out on his paws.
"Soren, wait!"
"Karina, we don't have time! We have orders, and we have to go fast!" Soren shouted back at her, as he weaved and pushed through the crowd in the mansion, giving his excuse-mes and apologies for bumping around his fellow soldiers.
"Soren, it's a deathtrap! The sun is already rising! Why don't we wait for nightfall, and travel ourselves under the cover of it! We'll get shot down from flak before we can even jump from the plane!"
"The war might already be over by the afternoon! Do you want to get tried for refusing orders and stranding a blind battalion behind enemy lines?" Soren would say, as he stormed through the front door, still dragging a reluctant Karina along. "Do you trust me, Karina?"
Karina stayed silent as he lead her towards the truck waiting in the courtyard road. With no answer, he stops just before the bed, looking back towards her.
"I do, Soren. I trust you."
"Good. Come with me, then. I need your help."
Karina only nodded, before spreading her wings to make a leap into the back of the truck, as Soren did the same. He'd bang on the back of the cab, and they were off.
Karina only stared up at the canvas cover of the bed, wondering if this last day of the war...would be her last day alive...