The Quagmire of the Black Crusade

Roisin was fatigued to say the least. She was crouching alongside her comrades in a ruined house. In front were their defensive works and trenches. Sporadic crimson helmets would peak out, send a few shots down range, and then crouch back down. Her watch read 5:00 and, right on schedule, the artillery’s rumble began. The battalion had been up for more than 24 hours. She tried to do the math in her head but was having trouble thinking it through. 27 since yesterday but then also the 5 today, well yesterday, well wouldn’t that be today? She jumped up suddenly as a shell landed nearby from the enemies. Shrapnel stuck itself into the building. A piece just missing a griffons head. The griffon shrugged it off and continued trying to talk to his comrades. Which was more of a scream. Roisin could hardly hear herself think.

She hadn’t been able to cut her mane, strands of her pink mane got in her face. Her horn itched, and the uniform was dirty and tattered. To add to her problems, she supposed her future problems, the shells, were bouncing off the barrier. Only those enchanted with magic made it through the murky green barrier. The ripples like waves going over the barrier. Trees were blown to bits, launching into the air. The earth was churned like butter. How long had she been on the frontlines against the dead now? Four years? She had joined early on, being a capable unicorn. She remembered hearing the rumors of the undead using airplanes, and tanks. Soon after, they had their first confrontation with them. It had been some time since the end of the world conflict, now all the living only had one enemy. Or two, since she was unsure of the worm situation in Zebrica?

Flaithri, a pony also from the fallen nation of the Northern Tribes, quickly yelled out to the squad leader, who made his way over. The griffon, quickly, moved over and put the radio up to his head. A shallow scar near his eye, and white feathers with hints of pink, shouted back towards the squad. The voice was raspy from yelling, barely audible over the sounds of war.

“Ten minutes left!”

Roisin was next to a younger pony, whose first time in battle was now. The mares legs were shaking and his eyes wide. An older pony handed the shaken recruit a sealed flask. The recruit looked at it, hooves hesitating to grab it.

“A potion, to calm the nerves.”

The recruit greedily drank, until nearly dropping the flask as another shell landed closer than the others. Shaking the ground. Outside, the artillery reached its crescendo, and Roisin moved closer to the door. Checking her watch, it was five till 5:30, already it felt like it had been hours. Peaking through a blown out window, light armored vehicles were rolling up. She scoffed, turning to the mare beside her.

“An old model, not even tanks either, just armored cars.”

The mare looked as well, the glint of the exiled Northern Tribes Battalion's crimson metal helmet catching the light of magic shells exploding. “A few LAVs, none modern, only late 10s. Maybe early 20s?” The mare said while checking her magazines.

Roisin was more annoyed now than ever after being reminded of the “dark ages” they were living were now in. It had been almost twenty-five years since the start of the Black Crusade. Yet technology and production had slowed down, as the onslaught from the undead was never ending. Hordes of cannon fodder and ever evolving undead caused advancement to slow. The power of the Queen of Bones had shown that current arms were efficient, but dark, old, and sinister magic could still stand the test of time.

“At least,” a griffon said to the right of Roisin, “this time we have support.”

The opposite comrade responded, “it won’t matter. The armor won’t hold against the Dread tanks. Remember last time? On top of that, these are old mod-.”

“Thirty seconds!” The squad leader said, holding the radio and relaying information to other squads in the surrounding buildings.

Roisin could see the enemies front lines. A mess of broken barbed wire and defensive. A few small barriers were placed, which would be the main stronghold of the trenches. As these would have protected the machine gun nests. Some smoke from the magic shells could be seen to be emanating from within the large barrier. The headquarters of the Dread League's army on this front. The light armored vehicles slowly rolled up, slightly ahead of their comrades. They occasionally took shots at fleeing undead, and some mindlessly attacking skeletons.

The seconds seemed to last forever, as the sweeping of machine guns peppered the field. A few airplanes were flying in the sky, some allied, some enemy. A dogfight was occurring over the enemies' headquarters. Although the barrier would provide interference to them upon entering. Everyone was on edge, sporadic shots rang out on exposed ponies and griffons. The seconds lasted forever.

“5 seconds!”

Roisin and the others quickly rose, and began the mad gallop forward. Ponies and griffons side by side. Some of the griffons, took flight to better charge into combat. Both enemy and allied machine gun positions opened fire, but enemy fire was mostly silenced by the light armor. Which provided mobile cover as the infantry passed the trenches. A ruined home and other structures provided cover, as each soldier moved from each. A few spells crashed into the lines, leaving a few soldiers in a haze. The burnt bodies of ponies and griffons within the crater it left.

Roisin bobbed in and out of cover alongside other comrades. Returning fire when needed. A group of mindless undead charged, being cut down by fire, with only a few closing the distance. Roisin loaded another magazine, and rushed alongside the others towards the enemy defensive works outside the barrier.

Already the others had made quick work of it, and upon jumping in, Roisin was confronted with a few undead. Shots rang off, and she sent some rounds down the trench line. A griffon, flying above, was shot down, landing near the barrier. A hoof grabbed her shoulder, shouting that the enemies were in a bunker.

“Cover me, I can send them a gift!”

The pony nodded and fired towards the enemies. Roisin quickly peaked out, and charged up a spell. A blast of raw magic, red and flickering, hit the entrance of the bunker with an explosion. A few limbs were tossed around, and the entrance caved inwards. Above, the light armor passed the trench as allies ran forward. Roisin found herself swept up in the chaos. She, and others from random squads, crouched behind the vehicles as they rolled through the barrier. A sinister magic ran down Roisin’s spine.

Inside the barrier were more defenses, almost completely untouched by the artillery. As only a few enchanted shells managed to make contact. Already, shots and spells were flying. Roisin sent her own spell of raw, condensed magic, into a horde of undead. She then took aim near a machine gun nest, which peppered the group. A few of them were hit, but the light armor turned its gun on the nest and fired.

Walls of flesh, barricades summoned using black magic and the dead, stood in the way. Beyond it, were buildings, with the farthest and center one, being the command post of the undead. It’s bell tower raising above the other buildings. Roisin aimed her horn towards the wall of flesh, bright yellow magic, the element of light, blasted through it. Burning and singing the edges. The squad of ponies and griffons rushed in, blasting and letting their guns tear through the undead. Roisin made her way outside, alongside a ruined wall, with some other ponies and griffons.

Combat was already slowing down, as more and more of the undead were using their brains. Still, many mindlessly charged, seeking to overwhelm the living. Roisin noticed a vehicle stuck in the ground, with vine-like tendrils of green pulling it down into the earth. The ground caving in, and sizzling from the dark magic. A pony on a radio was crouched nearby. A squad leader, Roisin recognized the patch and face of the pony, on the radio.

“Where is our aerial support? We are pinned and can’t stop that necromancer from sinking our armor! We can’t see the son of a buck!”

The vehicle's crew was panicking, as shots were being fired off wildly in every direction. A horde of undead were now on the vehicle. Their claws and weapons gnashing at the metal. While fire from smarter undead forced Roisin and the others to stay behind cover. Roisin was handed water from another soldier, and drank greedily, passing it down the line. Looking back towards their own headquarters, figures were in the sky. Roisin smiled as suddenly a few of them dived downwards and returned fire on the enemies. Grenades were tossed, and one, holding a rocket launcher, fired towards the necromancer. The explosion sent earth and bone flying in the air. Suddenly, the spell disappeared, allowing the LAV to drive forward and the soldiers to push outwards in support.

A few pegasi landed behind the ruined wall. Roisin noticed their different uniforms, which seemed to resemble Equestria’s own. The other pegasi’s squad members rained down hellfire on the undead. Much needed support, Roisin thought to herself. The pegasi’s squad leader, a pony with a short red mane, and a coat of yellow, saluted. “12th Equestrian Recon Volunteer Corp present!”

The infantry squad leader sighed heavily with relief. “Finally! Tell your unit to focus on the elite undead. On the west side are heavy gun encampments too.”

The Pegasi nodded, her red hair bobbing up and down. “I will let our Spice know. She wanted me to inform you that a couple of tanks were spotted further north.”

“Shit,” the squad leader mumbled.

Roisin spotted a pegasi flying almost recklessly, nearly clipping the top of a building. Her red and pink mane reminded Roisin of a younger pony, who had gone to the academy with her. Although that pony had moved to flight school, being one of the rare pegasi of the north. She tried to recall the name, it was a northerners name. It started with an A, what was it? She couldn’t remember as she shot a few undead crouched behind a burnt out vehicle.