Whitefang
Howls and snarls filled the air as the enormous wolf pack emerged from the Everfree forest. Their claws and fangs anxious to bite and slash into whoever was stupid enough to cross their path. It happened at night. On the outskirts of Ponyville, a host was on the move.
As they all marched towards the frontier and into the promise of fresh meat and blood. Their great leader Whitefang the Scarred, howled into the moonlit skies.
His pack was the largest to ever terrify the Everfree, and it had been by decree of the creator and god of chaos that he had been designated as their leader.
The army of timberwolves emerged from the treeline, following a single male timberwolf.
Whitefang was terrifying.
The bark that made up his body was of oaken trees, some of the first to ever grow among the depths of the forest. His fangs were birch, and his eyes were of yellow so pure, that anyone who saw the orbs of hatred would feel fear their hearts.
Whitefang was twice the height of any normal timberwolf, and his strength was to match.
The large beast of the Everfree howled once more and his followers formed a line along the edge of the forest. Each and every one of the twenty timberwolves ready to heed Whitefang's commands.
The oaken wolf gazed at the settlement before him. It had a name, he was certain of that. But he did not care to know it. The master had given him commands, orders to destroy the populace and let no one live.
Some power lurked in that town, a weapon of sorts in pony form.
Whitefang snarled hatefully and bared his fangs. He then turned to face the rest of his pack. The wolves bowed their heads at their lord and master, knowing full well what he did to those who disobeyed.
Whitefang howled into the skies once more. Signaling it was time to attack.
The night air was engulfed in the hatred infused howls of an army as the twenty one timberwolves charged forward, murder in their eyes.
The town ahead looked annoyingly bright in Whitefang's eyes. The colors and liveliness of its buildings shining even amidst the darkness of night. His keen hunter's eyes had to adjust to the brightness as the pack neared an apple farm just outside of town.
Whitefang growled viciously as the first set of defenses came into view.
Barricades. Dozens of them had been set up along the white fence and on the dirt road leading to the settlement. Earth ponies were standing behind them, waiting for the inevitable.
A bloodthirsty grin spread across the snouts of the wolves as the ponies came into view. They stood so proud and decided. Nothing more than meat for the killers of the Everfree.
Whitefang was panting with eagerness, saliva falling from his mouth as his pace increased. His followers sped up as he did, anxiously wanting to bite into the soft flesh of an equine.
Orders were shouted from the barricades as the ponies tried to organize themselves, but it was in vain. Whitefang had the fiercest of Timberwolves at his command, and a few ponies with sharpened stakes were not going to stop him.
The monsters doubled their pace, all of them putting extra effort into the charge. Anticipation of the prize at the end was strong, and the beasts found themselves fast approaching.
The earth ponies widened their eyes in fear as the shapes of the beasts broke through the shadows of the night.
Stallions and mares pressed their bodies against the barricades in hope that it would be enough to keep the wolves at bay.
Earth ponies behind their defensive structures steeled themselves for the battle to come.
Timberwolves howled as one and leapt.
The massacre that followed was horrifying.
Whitefang jumped over the first of the barricades, landing a meter behind the earth ponies that defended it.
With a vicious snarl, the wolf turned around and charged.
Three earth ponies screamed. Two in fright, one in anger.
As the behemoth of a wolf neared them, the oldest of the three ponies jumped to meet him in the middle. He shouted, angry look in his eyes, as he swung his hoof in an attempt to knock Whitefang to the side.
The wolf opened his jaws and an evil glimmer passed over his eyes as he brought them closed on the earth pony's leg.
The younger ponies screamed in terror as Whitefang the Scarred, Whitefang the Mutilator, Whitefang the Blood Drenched Snout, shook his head wildly, dragging the earth pony along.
A sickening snap was heard as the pony's leg was dislocated. Screams followed, and Whitefang tossed the agonizing pony to the side, chuckling grimly.
All around them similar skirmishes could be seen, with timberwolves destroying the earth pony defenses. Sparing no one.
Whitefang smiled at the two remaining earth ponies. They reminded him of his brothers. Young and pathetic. The burden of the pack, always fearing combat and never inflicting pain as it was needed.
Those two were like them. So similar in fact, that Whitefang considered killing them as he had done with his brothers.
The great wolf took a menacing step forward, evil yellow eyes staring at the ponies before him. Intent on killing them slowly, savoring down to the last ounce of painful screaming as they writhed beneath his claws.
But another sound brought him to attention.
From the distance, as the sun dawned on a new morning. A horn was heard.
All timberwolves snarled angrily and crouched, ready to jump and tear whatever emerged from the town to pieces.
Whitefang looked from the trembling ponies to the settlement in the distance, and growled. Annoyed at being denied his fun. Turning back to the two ponies, he swiped a powerful paw at each of them, slicing their throats open.
Much to swiftly for his pleasure.
The great oaken wolf turned back to the town, furious look in his eyes.
Timberwolves quieted down as their leader moved through their ranks. Slow steps, counted steps.
From the town, the shine of armored troops began to show as the sun was reflected on their golden surfaces. The banners bearing the standards of the princesses.
Whitefang glared at them. With his head lowered and claws extended, the great wolf let out a guttural growl that reached the ears of all and any who were close by.
Every timberwolf howled long and mighty into the raising dawn, their fangs drenched in the stench of blood and flesh. Behind them lay the corpses of all and every earth pony that had dared stand before them.
And now, with their glaring eyes set on a new prize, the wolves followed their master.
Whitefang placed paw after the other, increasing his pace rapidly. Yellow eyes set upon his next prey, upon the next corpse.
The equestrian line stood firm.
The wolves growled angrily.
Whitefang broke into a run.
He did not know how many he faced, he did not care. He was the fiercest beast to emerge from the depths of the forest and he was about to show the ponies what he did to his foes.
The great wolf ran towards the town, pack behind him growling and snarling as they neared the enemy battle line. Their only thought was blood, their only purpose was to feed.
Whitefang the Scarred let out a long, terrifying howl as he neared the enemy lines. His last howl.
The unicorns that made up the equestrian line lowered their heads, shining helmets surrounding their horns. An order was given, the soldiers focused their magic.
And a barrage of magical fire was thrown at the approaching timberwolves.
Whitefang reeled backwards on his hind legs, and growled in pain inflicted rage. His followers whined and howled in torture as the fire ate through their bark and roasted their innards.
The timberwolf charge was broken.
Individuals ran off whining in pain as they burned. Others fell to the ground and died. The bravest tried to press onwards, but fell dead inches short of their targets.
But there was one who resisted.
Whitefang growled in hateful pain as he pounced from the flames and tore the unicorn before him to pieces. The last thing the poor soul saw was the hatred in the wolf's eyes.
Unicorns began to back away while they concentrated their flames on Whitefang, literally throwing him into an inferno no matter where he turned.
The great wolf did not rest however. Even as his eyes melted from their sockets, even as the bark along his body cracked and turned to ashes. He fought on.
Whitefang blindly swiped a paw at the group of ponies, and connected with a mare's face. The blow shattered her jaw and ripped out her eyes. Whitefang growled and charged, engulfed in flames.
It took the unicorns ten minutes and four more casualties to kill the great Whitefang. The Scarred, the Mutilator, the Blood Drenched Snout.
His scorched body fell on its side and stopped moving. Lifeless, and with no more fight in him, Whitefang died. But he died with blood on his fangs, with enemy corpses surrounding him and with the certainty that in the future, everywhere in the country.
Stories of the great oaken wolf would be told.
Forever.
Jackson vs Crystal Empire
It was under the frozen skies of the northern reaches of Equestria. It was under the lash of the freezing whips of the northern winds, where the sun shines through a thick blanket of ice and the heat is lost to all and any who wander the snow covered grounds beneath.
It was deep into the empire's territory that the soldiers marched. Teeth chattering, bodies trembling and spirits low. The soldiers of the Democratic Republic of Man marched onwards.
Their target? An ice bridge that connected the two opposing sides of a wide chasm. Their mission? Destroy the bridge at all costs, as fast as possible, against all odds.
Amongst their ranks were thirty riflemen, fifty shredders and five trappers. All were proud soldiers of the republic, all were willing to give their lives. And as they marched through the cold winds of a foreign land, so far from home, so far from what they loved, each and one of them asked themselves a question.
Is it worth it? The hurt, the pain? The danger of death?
Amongst the riflemen stood a man, like any other. His brown hair hidden under his helm, his flesh freezing below his uniform, it all spoke of a man ready to give up, ready to return home.
But his eyes, the eyes of a young soldier shone through without fear, without care for death nor pain. His body may have shown a weary man, but his eyes and spirit showed a soldier, a proud and strong warrior spirit that would not doubt in sacrificing himself for what he believed in.
The soldiers all may have been a sad sight to behold, tired and cold, wet and shivering. But appearances were there to deceive. For the men that moved onward had all answered the questions unanimously.
Yes.
The riflemen moved forward in a column. Three by ten soldiers marching on, rifles leaning against their shoulders. And by the front line, in the middle of the three soldiers, stood that man.
His blue eyes gazed forward into the blizzard, searching for their goal. The men beside him rubbed their hands against their arms in an attempt to rid themselves of the cold, and looked at him.
"Hoy, Jackson! Ain't you cold? It's freezing out here!" The man to his left said through chattering teeth. His face had grown an unshaved beard, the hands holding his rifle were wrapped in bandages. More to keep the cold out than to heal a wound.
Jackson shrugged and turned to face his friend, wearing a smile that was tainted with a pale shade of blue to his lips. The cold was strong and not even the warmth of valor could aid for much.
"Just ignore it Valen, easier to get through if you don't think about it."
The soldier called Valen arched an eyebrow and gave an incredulous look. He pulled out a piece of cloth about the size of his arm in length and width and handed it to Jackson.
"If ya say so, though it might be easier to ignore it with this?"
Jackson nodded and wrapped the cloth around his head to cover up his mouth and nose. He gave a muffled 'thank you' and Valen nodded.
The soldiers continued marching for another hour before finally spotting their destination.
"Soldiers! Halt!" Shouted the commander. He was a tall man with broad shoulders that were accentuated by the thick fur cape he wore. His thick beard had chunks of snow stuck in it, and his dark eyes scanned the horizon.
"There it is! Riflemen, form a ten by three, advance onwards and shoot anything that walks on more than two legs! Forward!"
Jackson and Valen stayed as they were, since they were already on the front line. They waited for the other riflemen to form up while the commander aligned the shredders and trappers.
"Ain't like they told us back home, huh? Said there'd be aplenty of drink and women. Only things out here are snow and ponies." Valen said sourly as their unit began to move forward at a steady pace, each soldier with the butt of their rifle pressed against their shoulders.
"Didn't stop ya though!" Came a voice from the back lines, causing Valen to look backwards with a scowl.
The soldiers around them laughed softly, glad to have a small break from the growing tension as they moved closer to the ice bridge.
Jackson nudged his friend on the shoulder slightly and nodded towards the new sight before them.
"There it is." Jackson said as he gazed at the wonder of nature before them.
The bridge was solid ice, it went across the length of an enormous chasm that crossed the vast expanse of the ice plains on which they stood. It was impossible to see where the chasm began or where it ended, as it travelled to the horizon and beyond.
Valen looked at the ice bridge and spat on the ground, still sour at having being mocked at.
"Let's just get it over with..."
Jackson shrugged and watched as the officer in charge selected five soldiers at random.
"Head on to the other side of the bridge and stand guard, anything gets near and you shoot it."
The riflemen nodded their heads and ran across the giant structure of nature, aiming their weapons ahead the entire while as they ran.
The officer looked back at the main group of soldiers that stayed behind with the commander. Deciding it would be best to wait for his soldiers to report back to him on the situation on the other side of the bridge, he opted to hold his ground and get the soldiers in a defensive position.
"I want five men on this end of the bridge and the rest on it! Aim at the skies soldiers. Intel may have said these crystalline ponies have no wings, but I won't take a chance."
The soldiers automatically raised their eyes to the heavens in search for enemies as they moved to obey their orders. Jackson moved to the middle of the bridge and looked down to the depths of the chasm below it. The sight was hypnotizing.
The blue eyed soldier adjusted his helmet and turned to see the rest of his comrades. They had all been through much hardships as they marched through the wintry climates of the crystal mountains, and this bridge had been the purpose.
To see it about to leave from existence was both a relief and a sad thought. It meant that they could return home, but the construct was a wonder of the world, unique in its existence. War had its way of destroying valuable things, but sacrifices had to be made and the welfare of the nation was of greater importance.
The soldiers stood at attention while they waited for the soldiers that were sent to the other side of the bridge to return. The air was biting down on their skin, and the snow was finding its way through their tattered boots.
"Stupid bridge, stupid ponies, stupid wind, and stupid boots..." Valen crossed his arms in an attempt to ease the chill out of his arms but he seemed to be catching the worst of the blizzard.
Jackson was about to comment on his friend's words. But gunfire broke through the calm and the sound of the passing wind.
Every soldier's head turned to the far side of the bridge, where the scouts had been sent to investigate.
There had been three explosions of sound, explosions from a rifle's firing. A thick fog was covering the far side of the bridge, blocking everything from sight. But the gunfire ceased with no follow ups, with no shouts of alarm.
The officer ran up up to the middle of the bridge, worry on his face.
"Defensive stance, form a line! I want every single man aiming their damned weapon at that mist!"
The men followed their officer's command, running from their positions to kneel down by the middle of the ice bridge. Ten soldiers kneeling down, ten soldiers standing up behind them. They waited.
"Soldiers! What where the damned shots for?"
The officer shouted at the silent side of the passing. He was not expecting a reply.
Scowling, the officer then hollered at the five men he had left behind to move up and join the ranks. The five soldiers ran to take up their positions, cold sweat running down their brows.
"Not you. Go back to the commander and tell him that the northern side of the bridge may be hostile."
The officers held up a hand and stopped the youngest of the five, since he was less likely to have fighting experience. The soldier nodded, eyes wide and sweat forming above his eyes. He then ran, as fast as his legs would allow him, back to the main army.
The officer aimed his weapon at the mist.
"Remember your training, men! Hold your ground and shoot the one closest to you! Aim for the head and torso!"
The soldiers held their weapons tighter.
Shapes began to move inside the mist.
It was under the frozen skies of the northern reaches of Equestria. It was under the lash of the freezing whips of the northern winds, where the sun shines through a thick blanket of ice and the heat is lost to all and any who wander the snow covered grounds beneath.
It was there, that the uproar of dozens of foes resounded through every crack, every crevice and hole in the ground. It was there, that the Crystal Empire's finest led their charge.
The officer's eyes widened as the sheer strength of the war shout made shivers run down his spine. There must have been dozens of them, hundreds even.
With the rush of battle and the fear of death in his heart, the officer gave a roar of his own.
"Fire! Kill them all! Fire at the mist!"
Jackson pressed the trigger along with the others. The explosions shattered the air and filled the entirety of the area surrounding the bridge. Bullets were sent flying into the mist, fast as lightning, lethal as the oaken wolf of legend.
The soldiers fired and then reached into their pockets to pull out a new bullet, a new potential kill. The thunderous sounds of their rifles were enough to shadow the roars from their foes.
But they would not be silenced.
From behind the fog, on the other side of that mysterious barrier, of that frightening wall. An army was charging forward, an army of hundreds of warriors. They were from the northern empire, clad in crystal armor that would consider itself impenetrable back in its own time and age.
The warriors were charging forward across the frozen plains, sights locked on the bridge of ice just ahead. The ponies of the crystal empire were confident of their success.
But their luck would not hold.
As the knights approached the bridge, hearts full of fury and determination, the fog that had descended upon the great frozen structure began to be thinned by an eastern wind. The great shield that had prevented the bullets from finding their targets was gone.
Back on the bridge, the soldiers of the DRM kept formation, waiting for the inevitable.
"The fog is clearing! Hold your fire! On my command men!" The officer shouted and the men stopped their volleys.
Jackson loaded a bullet into the chamber of his rifle and took aim. Looking through the iron sights, steadying his breathing and pointing the muzzle of his rifle at the closest knight he could find.
But as the fog was cleared, another grim sight was seen by the soldiers that held the bridge.
The riflemen sent to secure and defend the northern end of the bridge. All five of them lay on the ground, multiple crystal shards piercing their bodies.
Angry murmurs and loud insults were said among the ranks of riflemen as they saw the bodies of their comrades. Jackson clenched his jaw and held the gun tightly.
"Fire!"
There is a distinct sound, when it comes to firing a weapon. If a single rifle is fired, the sound is a form of alarm, its sound only frightens if the weapon was fired at you. If several rifles are fired at distinct times, it gives a chaotic feeling. Like there is no control, no safe place to be.
Thunder itself felt frightened at the terrifying uproar that left the guns of the riflemen. They fired as one, ripping the air to pieces as their bullets flew out from their barrels and into the freezing air.
As a wave of impending damnation the bullets went, flying true and fast towards the unfortunate crystal knights. The warriors of the northern empire heard the sounds of a new war, a war that was unlike any they had seen before, they heard the new voice of war and felt fear ripping through their hearts with more strength than any winter wind, with more ferocity than the largest of beasts.
Their charge, a once mighty sight to behold, back when the empire had ruled over the land. Back when their knights had been the most feared and powerful warriors to roam the northern lands. That mighty and powerful charge.
It was shattered.
Screams of agonizing pain resounded through the air, replacing battle cries of ancient lineages. Bravery and determination were replaced by fear and confusion as the warriors saw their fellow knights falling to the ground, drenched in blood.
The purity of the white snow was tainted in red. The crystal charge, ancient tradition and most feared of assaults had been ripped to pieces by a single volley.
Jackson pulled a new bullet out and reloaded, doing it automatically, knowing his life depended on it. The bullet went in, he readied his rifle and took aim once more.
"Fire!"
The crystal knights had no respite, no time for recovery. They had not stopped running, even as their friends and brothers in arms fell to the ground, lifeless and mutilated.
The second volley tore any survivors of the front lines asunder. Small clouds of blood floating over the air where the bullets had impacted, tainting the air with the color of death.
Jackson looked at the remaining knights, and he felt worry. Despite the two successful volleys, despite the fear which could be seen on their faces, they still marched onward.
"Sir! There must be over a hundred of them! The trappers will need to get here faster if they are to blow this up, we can't hold them back forever!"
The officer looked at Jackson, fear in his eyes and his resolve faltering. He was young for an officer, inexperienced. Death was not something he was eager to meet.
The officer gave a quick nod and considered his options. The crystal knights had reformed and resumed their assault, giving out their war cries as they ran. Their voices were terrifying, even if the knights themselves were afraid.
The officer was running low on time, and he had already lost five men.
"Alright then... Men! Fall back to the plains! We'll regroup with the commander! I am not dying here!"
The soldiers were quick to stand up and eagerly follow, none of them wanted to die, nor were they willing to sacrifice themselves.
Jackson stared at his officer in disbelief. The man knew his orders and the importance of their mission, and still he refused to do his part. Fear had overtaken him.
The knights were but meters away from reaching the bridge, and reinforcements would need several more minutes to reach it and plant the explosives. And without the riflemen to stall the enemy...
Jackson stood up and gazed at the approaching enemies, somber look in his eyes. The officer took it as his acceptance of defeat and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"We can't win em all. It's wiser to live and fight another day, than throw our lives away pretending to be heroes."
Jackson nodded slowly, and turned to look at his officer.
"You are right, we can't win them all because we are not heroes." Jackson said as he loaded a new bullet into his rifle. "But we are soldiers, and that means we fight them all."
The officer looked into his subordinate's eyes, understanding flooding into his mind as he gazed into the twin orbs of determined blue. Nodding sadly, the officer patted Jackson on the shoulder.
"So be it, friend. May the gods be with you." The officer turned around and ran, back to safety, back to the main body of the army. Many followed him, many were those who wished to live.
But there were some who would fight. There were some, who would be soldiers that day.
Valen looked at Jackson with a mixture of confusion and admiration, as the snow fell around his friend, he could see the strength and resolve in him.
"That was mighty poetic of you, care to tell us were you stole it from?" Valen asked as he pulled the rifle up and loaded it.
Jackson smiled at his friend and looked back at the small group that had stayed.
There were seven in total.
"Guess we'll be soldiers now. Funny, thought I already was when they gave me this gun and told me to shoot ponies." A bearded man said as he reloaded, smile crossing his face.
Four other rifles were loaded and seven men in total lined up to face the oncoming horde.
"For the republic?" Asked Jackson as he aimed his weapon.
Valen shook his head and spat.
"For bravery."
Then the enemy was upon them.
The republican soldiers fired simultaneously. One shot, one shout of defiance and courage. Seven lives at the service of a nation, ready to die, ready to make the ultimate sacrifice in defense of their flag.
The crystal knights felt the full force strength of the volley. The bridge was narrow and the knights were many, not a single bullet lost its way. The knights at the front died and fell, making their allies slow their speed to avoid the corpses.
The republicans saw this as their chance.
Giving a war cry of their own, hearts full of courage and might, souls ready and spirits high, the soldiers pulled out sabers, axes, knifes and tomahawks to face their foes in melee.
Jackson held his tomahawk tight in his grip and charged. The first knight that met his end by the blade of the republican's axe, had been recovering from tripping over a corpse.
Jackson swung as hard as he would be allowed by his arm, and connected with the crystal knight's lower jaw. The pony's eyes were wide with terror as he saw the axe near him, but there was nothing he could do.
The tomahawk split bone and flesh, splattering the ground in blood.
Jackson roared as he pulled out the tomahawk and swung once more, this time to meet the charge of another knight. The crystal pony had lowered his head for the impact, and the tomahawk buried itself deep into his skull. Killing him immediately.
Valen was screaming like a madman, hacking and slashing at all and every knight that neared him. His saber was covered in blood and plenty of the knights around him were bloodied and badly wounded.
Of the other five soldiers that had stayed, one was already dead, trampled by the hooves of an elite infantry unit. The remaining four battled on, shoulder by shoulder, never giving ground, never retreating.
The knights were strong however, trained into the art of war by the very masters of it. Many had died during the volleys, and several more during the confusion at the bridge.
But now they were in their element.
The republicans soon found that their assaults were being easily blocked by the armored hooves of the knights, that their blows were being evaded and that their enemies were pushing them back with ease.
Jackson grabbed a knight by the helmet and pulled his head to the side, so as to expose his neck for the tomahawk. But the knight did not stop when Jackson did, and pulled his head free of the republican's hold, throwing him out of balance.
Jackson staggered and almost fell, but managed to keep his balance and regain his footing. The knight however, would not relent.
"For the empire!" He shouted and rammed Jackson in the stomach, making the republican gasp and fall backwards. The crystal knight had not had enough impulse to severely injure him, but the damage was done.
Laying on the ground and surrounded by foes, no sign of his friends nor the reinforcements, Jackson could only wait for the end to come. As the knight that had bested him neared him, Jackson could see in his eyes anger and determination.
Both were not too different from each other.
"Your last words, scum?" The knight asked as he hovered a hoof over Jackson's head, threatening to crush it should he be given a reason to.
Jackson glared at the equine, his hand gripping the handle of the tomahawk tightly. He was readying himself for one last shot, one last try at survival. If he maintained the enemy there for a few more minutes then the rest of the army could destroy the bridge.
They were not too far away. The messenger they had sent before the attack, had reached their commander, and the entire army was on the move. Fifty shredders were running at full speed towards the bridge with the trappers behind them as well as the riflemen that had retreated.
But if the crystal ponies broke through the few defenders and managed to form lines in an open field, their charge would be unstoppable.
Jackson knew this, and so wouldn't allow for defeat to come as easily.
"For the republic!"
He shouted and grabbed the crystal pony's shoulders with both hands. The knight's eyes showed bewilderment before realization dawned on him.
"Idiot! No!"
Jackson smiled as he pressed his foot against the ground and used it to push himself upwards, throwing the crystal pony off balance as he was standing on three legs.
The republican soldier and his foe had been standing by the edge of the bridge, and the ice was slippery.
The knight felt his armor betray him, the weight of such finery swiftly making him slip and fall on his side. But there was nowhere he could fall. Nowhere other than miles of nothingness as the chasm went into the bowels of the earth itself.
The crystal warrior screamed as he fell, into the abyss, into the nothing. Down went the thousand year old warrior, down went a relic of times long past.
Jackson wasted no time. In the blink of an eye the soldier was on his feet, tomahawk in hand.
He looked around, searching for his brothers in arms, for his countrymen and fellow soldiers. But there was not a soul to be found. Only the sight of the crystal knights lay before him, only the face of death.
Jackson looked behind and saw the shape of an army. It was the republic on the move, led by their commander. The shredders were sharing colorful insults with their crystal foes as they charged. The riflemen unleashing volley after volley of death to the enemies of the republic.
And the trappers. They ran amidst the others, making certain to keep themselves safe and at the ready to plant the explosives.
The republican host was at the southern entrance of the bridge, giving out their proud and mighty roars of battle. "For the republic!" It resounded, "For home and country!" It seemed to explode. For it was with great strength that it was shouted.
The crystal ponies had no time to reform, had no time to react. The blue eyed soldier of the republic had succeeded. Despite the losses, despite the danger. He had bought the army enough time, enough minutes to cross the ice plains and arrive at the bridge.
With a roar of victory, of excitement and pain, of suffering for the death of his friends, of joy for a chance at survival, Jackson charged against the knights that blocked his way to freedom.
The crystal knights had been attempting to reform, but the shredders had taken them off guard, and the wild warrior behind their lines was giving them reason to look behind their shoulders. With no more than seconds at their disposal, the warriors charged against the approaching enemies in complete disorganization.
The shredders gave out a battle cry and both sides clashed. The clatter of steel against crystal resounded through the air as blood once more stained the icy grounds on which they fought.
The knights outnumbered and outclassed the shredders, but the narrow bridge and the rifles shooting their flanks made it impossible for skill to win the day. The crystal knights were massacred by the mouth of the bridge, and forced to retreat.
Jackson found himself back in friendly lines, back with his fellow republicans. His life had been endangered terribly and his body mauled beyond fighting condition. He crawled as his left leg had been broken by the knights of crystal, he held his stomach in pain as several ribs had been broken during his escape.
But he did not relent, he moved onward until a pair of hands gripped him by the shoulders and pulled him behind the republican lines, even as the blood continued to run and the corpses to pile up.
"I'll be damned and thrown in a pool of fire! You made it!" Jackson had lost blood, and too much of it. But he still managed to recognize the voice of his officer. "You make it back home and I bet my hide they'll be making you a statue of sorts!"
Jackson was on the border of consciousness and sleep, of remaining awake and falling to the sweet embrace of dreams and rest. But he still had one final sight to see, one final sound to heed.
As the officer pulled him back to the lines of the riflemen, Jackson saw the shredders running away from the bridge, axes bloodied and swords stained with red, laughing maniacally as the trappers connected a wire to a lever, just a few meters away from the mouth of the bridge.
The wire ran all the way across the entrance and into the middle of the bridge, where it connected with several barrels of explosives. The shredders placed themselves in front of the trappers, to defend them from a new threat.
From the bridge, by its middle. Several crystal ponies, lightly armored and swinging slings with their mouths, unleashed a volley of crystals upon the shredders. The crystals exploded in midair and sent many dagger-like pieces of crystal shrapnel flying towards the republicans.
Agonizing screams of pain and death were accompanied by an uproar of rage and victory as the trappers pulled the lever.
Jackson looked at the bridge, were a hundred knights and slingers stood, readying themselves to charge once more.
They never did.
The explosion was deafening, it was blinding, it was nerve wrecking. The bridge was engulfed in flames as well as those standing on it, sending their souls into the great beyond. Then the ice cracked and splintered, making the great frozen structure collapse with a thunderous crack.
Jackson saw as the bridge fell, he heard as the men cheered, he felt as the cold bit against his skin and the air brushed his flesh.
It was there, in that cold and frozen land, that men became soldiers.
Author's Note
Few things to clear up.
OC chapters will be third person, while the characters from the show will be second person like the original Bathtime for Ponies story. Next up is Bellum's OC and then I'll start work on the main six. Unless someone wants to have their OC turned into an immortal war hero? Your choice, but I wouldn't miss the chance!
