"The Other Side" Chapter 20- Blood on the Plains (Part 1)

"Everyone get ready for these bastards! Archers, get to your positions! Grab a weapon and get to the line! They're not gonna wait fer' us!"

Dylan had taken on the air of a battlefield commander; collected and authoritative. He watched as ponies began running pell-mell for the edge of the town, taking up positions in a line in front of the tower. A smaller group of ponies climbed and flew their way up to high positions, either in the tower or on the roofs of houses. There were only about a dozen of them, and they were equipped with crude, quickly-made bows and only had a few arrows. The ponies on the front line had shields made of wooden planks, along with a mix of various simple weapons; spears, clubs, picks, axes, sickles and hammers. The ponies didn't seem to be in any particular formation, rather they were standing in a loose, staggered line. They were not soldiers, and it showed.

"We jus' gonna wait?" Big Macintosh said.

Dylan turned to look down at the muscular farm-stallion. He had the same pitchfork that he had used to skewer the griffin in the barn. He leaned on it, working his shoulder gingerly and stretching his neck. He also wore a belt, on which hung a sharp cutting knife. On his back, hanging by a strap, was a crossbow, taken from the same griffon's mutilated corpse. The crossbow's quiver also hung on the belt he wore, containing around a dozen bolts. He looked like a warrior, despite the farming implement he was using as a walking stick.

"No. I'll think of something... Wait... I've got one. Derpy, come here."

The grey pegasus flew somewhat clumsily up to the tower, bumping it lightly. The structure creaked a tiny bit as the clumsy pony impacted gently with it. Dylan made a mental note not to give her any jobs that required a lot of coordination.

"Yes? What's up?" Derpy tried to smile, but she glanced nervously back towards the hostile force advancing towards the town.

"I need you to gather up as many unicorns as you can, then grab the biggest rocks, stones and boulders around. After that, get them to bring them up here, near these buildings."

"Okay! You got it, mister!"

"Alright. So what I'm thinking is-"

"Hey, Dylan!"

He turned to the new voice; It was Lyra. She appeared to be trying to hold up a large halberd unsuccessfully. She just wasn't strong enough to keep a good grip on the long, heavy polearm. A large helmet rested on the top of her head. The big piece of metal armor seemed to be much too large for her, and it tilted haphazardly on her head, moving around loosely. A large reinforced leather jack hung from her shoulders lazily, dropping down to her hips. She snapped one of her hooves up to the side of her head in an amateur salute.

"Guardspony Lyra reporting for duty, Sir!"

Dylan couldn't help but smile at how ridiculous she looked. His grin faded as he brought his mind back to the task at hand.

Nice outfit...

"Alright, guardspony, I need yer' help with somethin'."

"What is it, Sir?"

"I need ya to take our best diggers out to the fields in their path..." Dylan pointed a finger at the griffon and diamond dog forces some miles away. "And I need you to dig the biggest trench ya can make."

"Yes, Sir!"

Lyra bounded off, her helmet bouncing around on the top of her head chaotically as she ran.

"Rainbow Dash, I need ya to get as many pegasi as ya can to grab all the lumber ya can carry, then bring it to the carpenters. Tell em' to cut the wood down to a couple feet and make sure its pointed. Sharpen the shit out of it, y'hear?"

"I'm on it, boss!"

Rainbow Dash flew off, heading to the town's lumberyard. She darted in between houses and through alleyways expertly, narrowly avoiding a collision with the walls.

"Showoff..." Dylan muttered under his breath, shaking his head and grinning, looking down at the ground.

"Mac, I need ya here helpin' with keepin' everyone organized. It'll do us no good to have a mob instead of a militia." Dylan scratched at his beard and adjusted his sword, keeping an eye on the distant threat.

"Eeyup." Big Mac responded in his usual laid-back, country style way. He leaned on his pitchfork, working his mouth thoughtfully.

"This is gonna work. It fucking has to."

***

A pair of coldly menacing eyes swept their gaze across the multitude below. The eyes belong to the scar-faced man. He was laying flat against the top of a high cliff, pressing against the rough shale to stay as low as possible. The other human with the long, unruly hair lay beside him.

"Looks like someone's busy." The long-haired man said, squinting his eyes as he tried to make out more of what was going on down below.

"I tink' somevan' kicked hornets' nest..." The burly man said in his thick Russian accent. "but not hard enough."

Griffons and diamond dogs; at least a hundred or more, all marching towards the town. The two humans could see them all, armored and armed heavily. They had more ways to kill than you could count on both hands (If you have them, that is.).

"Heh. Poor bastards don't stand a chance against these guys..."

The Californian's laugh was quiet, but it carried a callous and cruel energy with it. The young man's face also betrayed his mean spirit, showing a savage amusement. His eyes flashed of something evil. For a moment they became completely black, as if the pupil had grown to a massive size. His skin darkened slightly, becoming smooth and glossy. The man's smile was now made up of long, needle-like teeth, sharp as sin. "Ooooh, what I'd give to taste the blood!" He hissed through his teeth, his fingernails digging into the cliffside as he clenched his hands anxiously.

"Remember vat' we are here for. Ve' find where our 'friend' is, and ve' get him and us the fuck out of here. Нет времени для игр." The Russian scowled, deep in thought. He looked over at his comrade, taking note of his monstrous features. He was not unfamiliar with such changes in form; he had experienced them himself as well.

The strange, tall, black-suited man's words echoed in his head:

'Now you will never suffer the power of traitors... Survive, for that is your purpose. It is your turn to make them feel the sting... the sting of Betrayal...'

The younger man remembered the man's words to him as well.

'You will no longer feel pain, but rather, you shall make the world suffer for what it has done. Cruelty is the one gift you need not receive; only give.'

"Stop it with the fucking gibberish already. I don't think having a little fun will hurt anything... well... actually, it will."

The younger of the two smiled again, this time running his black tongue over his needle-like teeth. He snickered darkly to himself and flexed his fingers, which were now tipped with sharp, bony claws.

"If I remember right, he left me in charge, not you."

The American hissed at the Russian's comment, turning his head to stare at him with coal-black eyes.

"We'll see who's in charge, you fucki-"

"Either you listen to me, or I tell him you disobeyed his orders."

The American froze, staring at the Russian with an expression of horror. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again and looked back down at the advancing forces heading towards Ponyville. "I thought so," The Russian said as his comrade's appearance slowly returned to normal. He reached into his cloak and pulled out a cigarette, turning it over in his fingers. "Delicious death..." He bit down on it between his teeth and held it there. He knew how stupid lighting it would be, even in the early morning; it was still dark, and a light could be seen from a great distance away. He bit down on his cigarette, feeling the crunch of the paper in his teeth. He shifted slightly, causing his cloak to slip down from around his neck.

The American looked at him from the corner of his eye, raising a quizzical eyebrow. He saw something which he didn't quite understand. On the Russian's neck was a tattoo of a six pointed star. Two of the star's points faced upwards, so that it almost looked in the shape of a pentagram, but without the circle and an extra point.

"The hell is that?"

The Russian turned and looked at him, shooting his comrade a look of apathy.

"What?"

"The tattoo."

The Russian looked at him as if the American had just said something completely stupid.

"It's a tattoo..."

The American growled in annoyance. With a clatter of stone, he slammed his fist down on the ground.

"I got that part, jackass! What's it mean?"

"Ah... Six years," The Russian said with an empty look in his eyes.

"Six years of what?"

The younger man looked at him with an increasingly agitated look. He couldn't have been more than sixteen years old, but the venom in his eyes added a few more to his appearance. The older man traced a fingernail down the scar on his face, scratching at his beard as he did so.

"Six years prison."

He seemed to reminisce, looking up into the early morning sky as he thought about his past. It was brutal, cold and unforgiving, much like the man himself.

"For what?" The American's eyebrow snaked upwards; he was obviously curious.

"Well... Theft... Assault... Smuggling... Murder..."

"Murder?"

"None that I got caught for. Because instead of counting time until I get out, I'd be counting time until I am dead."

"Shit. Well... Ever been in an asylum before?" The American winced slightly as memories of his own past were dredged up to the surface of his thoughts.

"... I've visited."

The Russian simply continued to bite down on his cigarette, his mind focused on memories of his past.

"Ever lived in one?" The American said, tilting his head slightly as he began to smile. The insanity in his expression told his comrade all he needed to know.

"No."

"Heh. A few years of constant drugs, 'therapy', corrective education and uh... 'positive enrichment' will kinda fuck with your brains more than what was wrong with them before. Got in there for torturing and killing some lowlife piece of shit. Sick bastards even tried to make me say I was sorry for torturing the son of a bitch to death."

The American's grin almost took up his whole face. His eyes were widened in an unhinged gaze of malice, locked on an unseen target.

"Did you?"

"Fuck, no. He had it coming. Besides, I enjoyed watching him scream. It was fun. I can remember it like it was yesterday."

He laughed like a madman, but tried to keep the noise down, seeing as dogs had very good hearing. The Russian shook his head and looked off the edge again. The thousand yard stare -most common to soldiers and war survivors- that he had spoke for him, but he put it into words anyway.

"Some things I don't want to remember."

"Like what?"

"Starvation. Poverty. Being hunted. Seeing death, disease... nothing you see in your precious America."

"We've got that."

"Even your poorest vagrant has more money than most of the population where I live. Not to mention that you have enough doctors to care for your sick, your broken..."

"They can just go die. I don't give a shit," the younger man said, scowling.

"Most already have... Tell me, have you ever had to beat a man's skull open with a rusty pipe so he wouldn't murder you and steal the last of your hard-earned food?"

"I-"

"No. You have not."

"Hey, dickhead, I've probably gotten more ass in one year than you have in your entire life!"

"... What does that have to do with smashing man's head open?"

"... The fuck should I know?"

The Russian sighed, shook his head and muttered, "Ебля американцев ..."

"Cut that damn gibberish. Like you said, we've got something to do."

"Yes, we do."

The American pulled out a piece of dried meat jerky from his cloak and held it in both hands. He looked at it with eyes full of hunger; it was not a hunger for food.

"Let's break something."

He snapped the jerky into two pieces with an evil smile on his face. He shoved both pieces into his mouth and began to chew slowly.

"Agreed. I was getting tired of waiting."

***

"Pitiful."

The comment came from Rex; it was directed at the crude fortifications the Ponyvillites had constructed on the outside of the town. The large, well-built diamond dog could easily destroy the ramshackle buildings even without his massive double-headed axe.

"They are, aren't they?" Rover replied, snickering between his teeth.

"Just remember what's hiding behind them," Bregan stated, remembering what kind of dangerous creature the town housed. He did not want a bunch of overconfident mongrels getting everyone killed.

"What? The two-legged thing? I heard it was so fucking pale that you could blind yourself looking at it! Hahaha!"

Rex shook his head as he laughed, rolling his eyes simultaneously. He hefted his axe in his hands in anticipation.

"We'll see how dangerous it is when it's in two pieces."

"YOU FUCKING FOOL!"

Rex jumped when he heard Tanning's roar of anger, leaping several inches off of the ground. He unsteadily landed and turned to look at the griffon captain who was now glaring at him. The contempt of Tanning's gaze made him flinch, backing away slightly.

"I WANT IT ALIVE!"

Tanning's words were further emphasized by him shaking his giant stone fist in front of the cowering Taskmaster's face.

"Y-y-yes, uh..."

"Captain."

"Y-yes, Captain."

Tanning turned from Rex, who looked like he had just seen a ghost (More likely he had almost been made one). He looked back at the town and growled, clenching his fists angrily. He towered over most of the diamond dog soldiers and stood a head taller than his own men. As they neared the town, Tanning grew more and more impatient, looking from building to building intently. His soldiers continued to march. They were now within two hundred yards of the town. The griffon captain finally had enough waiting and started to bellow an order.

"I WANT THAT-"

Tanning stopped speaking when he noticed a blur of movement in the corner of his vision. He dropped to the ground as a sound like wind whistling through reeds filled the air. The whistling was quickly followed by muffled thumps and metallic ringing. One of the griffons beside Tanning let out a gargling scream as he clutched at the three foot long wooden shaft protruding from his throat. The wide arrowhead on the end of the shaft had sliced open the soldier's neck like a cut of fresh meat. He collapsed in a pool of his own blood and went limp, a mask of shock frozen on his wide-eyed face. Tanning watched a few others fall, most of them diamond dogs. He dragged himself up and raised his shield. With a crowing roar, he bellowed his next order.

"SHIELDSSS! SHIELDSSS UP! KEEP YOUR FUCKING HEADSSS DOWN!"

Arrows continued to fall among the soldiers as they moved forward, most of them stopped by shields or the ground. Those that did hit their targets brought forth cries of pain from the diamond dogs, whilst only sharp breaths from the griffons. The wall of shields advanced steadily under the slow barrage of arrows. Tanning's archers responded with their own volley, but they were not certain where their enemies were shooting from. A scream came from the direction of the town, followed by a crashing noise, like wood splintering under something heavy. It seemed the griffons were not entirely unaware of their enemies positions.

The advancing diamond dogs and griffons surged forth like a tide of claws and blades, moving towards Ponyville with all the subtlety of a charging bull. The soldiers yelled battle cries, howled, roared and shouted, all of them filled with savage, violent intent. They were now within a hundred feet of the walls around the edge of the town. They could hear the sounds of the pony forces moving around on the other side, shouting their own orders. The tramping of the invaders' feet, the clattering of their armor and the rustle of their cloaks was loud enough to be heard from hundreds of feet away. Above all the sound, a new voice rose up, low and guttural. It sounded like the voice came from deep inside it's owner's chest, like a clap of thunder. It seemed to shake the advancing diamond dogs, making them quake with fear.

"COME ON, YOU MONGRELS! I'LL SPILL YOUR BLOOD LIKE THE BEASTS YOU ARE!"

The diamond dogs felt anger at these words. They thrashed and snapped their jaws, moving ahead of the griffons. They were mad for blood, like the rabid dogs they were. The source of the voice made itself clear. A six-and-a-half foot human wearing a bloodstained and shredded coat stood up on top of the wall. The bow in his hands creaked as he raised it and pulled back the string. He looked down the arrow at his target with a sharp-toothed grin; the grin was of psychotic rage, not jovial amusement.

With a slight movement of his finger, he released his grip on the string. The bow made a resounding twang as it sped its missile forwards. The broad headed tip of the arrow slammed through the breastbone of one of the advancing diamond dogs. The crunch of metal punching through bone made the human smile.

Other figures rose from their hiding places to loose their own arrows into the charging dogs. More of them fell. Those not killed outright by the barrage or the slow, aching death of blood loss were crushed under the feet of their comrades. The griffons behind them opened fire on the ponies on the rooftops, in windows, up high on towers or behind walls. Most of the arrows missed, but the griffon arrows proved no less deadly than those of their opponents. One unfortunate pegasus took an arrow straight through his eye. The narrow point of the projectile jutted out the back of his skull like a macabre piercing. He tumbled off his position on a roof and landed limply on the cobblestone street with a sound similar to an eggshell cracking.

"Charge! Get that one, the Captain wants him!" Rover spat, pointing with his one hand that wasn't holding his glaive.

The dogs rushed forwards, brandishing their spears and blades in the early morning sun. The beautiful sunrise did nothing to lessen the savage ugliness of the carnage. Battle had a nasty habit of turning beauty to horror, and this time was no different.

"HALT! REGROUP!"

Tanning's command came too late; the dogs were in a frenzy. They didn't care about the griffon's orders any more. They would tear the human apart if they could get at him. Bloodlust was not something that they alone possessed; The human appeared to be snarling furiously at the charging dogs as he loosed more arrows at the line of shields.

"Come on, you curs! We'll gnaw on their bones before the sun's finished rising! Fifty pieces for the one who brings me that thing's head!"

Rex hefted his axe as he followed behind his men, laughing. His statement seemed to make his dogs even more eager, spurring them on like whipped cattle.

"For the pa-"

Rex was cut off by a chorus of screams as the frontmost of his soldiers suddenly disappeared. A number of sickening, wet thumping noises followed the sudden disappearance of the front line. His soldiers in front yelped as they tried to skid to a stop, but their blood crazed fellows behind them pushed them forwards. The whole mass shouted and yelled, trying to stop their forward motion unsuccessfully. More dogs tumbled forwards into the danger ahead, pushed in towards their deaths by their own senselessness.

Rex stared down at the twisted, bloody corpses of at least two dozen of his dogs. He stood precariously close to the edge of a deep trench dug into the ground. It was at least six feet deep and stretched across the whole of the field. On the bottom of the trench was a carpet of loose grass and hastily cut blankets and sheets. It was filled with crudely sharpened wooden spikes, which were currently drowning in diamond dog blood.

The defenders of Ponyville were lucky that their enemies hadn't come down one of the many roads leading into the town. Instead, they had come across one of the hilly fields, which had let the ponies prepare a trap under Dylan's supervision. He had predicted the mindless aggression of the dogs, thanks to information given to him by the ponies.

"SSSTOP! FUCKING IDIOTS, YOU'VE RUN RIGHT INTO A TRAP! DOGS, DO WHAT YOUR FOUL BREED DOES BEST; DIG!"

The dogs -still shaken from watching their comrades be impaled- seemed as if they hadn't heard the order, but a snarl from Rex snapped them out of it. If there was one thing Rex -and the dogs- feared more than the enemy ahead, it was Tanning.

"You heard him! Shields up front, cover the diggers! We're going under!"

Those of the dogs that had shields stood close to the edge of the pit with their shields raised. Arrows from the town's defenders continued to hail upon Rover's line. The clatter of the arrows impacting into the wooden and iron-shod shields masked the sound of canine claws scratching against the earth. Behind their comrades, the dogs began to exercise their natural talent for excavation. They hauled up pawfuls of soil at a breakneck pace, flinging it up out of their rapidly-expanding tunnel.

Rover stood behind his bodyguards. Their shields were larger and taller than the common soldiers, all the better to shield their Alpha from harm. A few of the dogs in the rear fired crossbows, taking quick shots from behind the shields of their fellows.

"We're taking a pounding out here! Dig faster!"

As if in answer to Rover, an arrow bounced off the top of his plumed helmet, skittering off it and completing its trajectory straight into the ground. With wide eyes he saw where it had come from; the animal grin on the face of the two-legged creature standing on the wall made it deadly clear.

"Shoot that thing! Shoot it!"

Rover frantically pointed at the human. Seconds later a number of crossbow bolts thudded into the wood right next to the creature. Many of them would have hit it, but it saw them coming. It ducked fluidly out of the way, disappearing among the fortifications.

The griffons moved as a cohesive unit, each one covering the one beside them. Their advance was disciplined, tactical and coordinated, whereas the diamond dogs rushed blindly, rushing ahead without regard for any sort of tactic.

"What in the name of the godsss are those foolsss doing?! I WANT IT ALIVE!"

Tanning hissed under his breath at the foolishness of the dogs and their commanders. The griffon warlord knew that no simple pony village had the mindset to set this kind of trap, much less have the intelligence to bait and taunt their opponents straight into it. Rover barely had time to open his mouth before Tanning's fist slammed into the front of his snout. He felt a few of his teeth crack under the blow, causing him to whimper in pain. His guards turned and snarled, raising their weapons to strike. The large wolf-dog with his two rapiers looked incredibly calm, seeing as he hadn't drawn his two rapiers, even after Tanning struck Rover.

"IT KNOWSSS WHERE MY SSSISSTER ISSS! IF YOU OR YOUR FUCKING MONGRELSSS KILL IT, I'LL SSSTRING YOU UP BY YOUR GUTSSS! CALL OFF YOUR DOGS, OR I WILL PUT THEM DOWN!"

Rover's bodyguards and Tanning's elite vanguard troops would have begun mercilessly slaughtering one another, but an arrow slamming into Tanning's shield broke them from their fury.

"Remember who we're fighting."

Bregan seemed to be the voice of reason. The cold calmness of the old warrior seemed to stay the two groups from putting each other to the sword, at least for the moment.

"Y-... What are we still standing here for? We should be getting out of this damn-"

Rover didn't have time to finish; he watched as the whole of Tanning's infantry leapt and flew over the spike-filled trench without hesitation. The griffon warriors moved towards the town with their shields high, deflecting the storm of arrows from the rooftops. The dogs were still digging their tunnel underneath the trench as the griffons piled in towards the wall.

***

Dylan took one final shot at the advancing griffons before he jumped down off the wall. The other ponies with bows who were on top of the wall followed his example, dropping down to help defend from the charging griffon warriors.

The griffons began hacking and chopping at the wall, furiously trying to bring it down so that they could get at the defenders on the other side. A large axe head smashed a six-inch wide hole in the barricade, revealing the armored warrior behind it. He raised his axe to chop again, but stopped mid-motion when Dylan sent an arrow hurtling through his breastplate. The griffon drunkenly stumbled into the wall with an angry groan. He hauled himself upwards off the wall and brought his axe down on the wall again before another arrow through the chest put him down for good.

The wall wouldn't hold for much longer; the amount of griffons actively trying to smash it to pieces mad that obvious. One of the ponies behind the wall tried to stab the attackers with his spear, but a griffon caught it and pulled him towards the wall. The shocked look on the townspony's face remained after the griffon drove his dagger into his throat.

Dylan turned to see Lyra bring her halberd crashing down on the helmet of a griffon trying to jump over the wall. He tumbled over the top of the barricade and tried to bring his shield up to block her next blow, but a swift kick from the mare knocked him backwards. She slammed the haft of her weapon sideways into the oncoming blade of the griffon, which had been on an arc that would have gutted her like a pig if she hadn't stopped it. The griffon spun and tried to smash his shield's edge into Lyra's temple, but she was too quick; she ducked underneath the strike and rammed her halberd's spearpoint through the griffon's chest. His mouth opened to scream, but Lyra wasn't done; she shoulder-checked the stunned warrior backwards, who stumbled back against the wall. Before he could raise his shield, she stabbed him two more times, each time letting out a furious yell.

Lyra killing the griffon had only taken a few seconds; by the time she had killed him, more of the griffons had either got over the wall or were in the process of smashing through it. A pair of them headed straight for Dylan, but he didn't give them time to make the first move; with a fluid motion, he drew an arrow from his quiver, nocked it and drew back his bow. He released the string and watched as the arrow passed right through the eyeslit of the griffon's helmet. His comrade barely even glanced at his deceased comrade. Instead, he ran straight at Dylan, a giant warhammer raised above his head.

"Shit!"

Dylan barely had time to swear before the griffon was upon him. The griffon swung his hammer in an overhead swing in an attempt to bludgeon his human opponent in the face. With a slight reluctance, Dylan brought up his bow to block the swing. With a sharp crack, the hammer blow split the bow in two. The griffon tried to swing again, but to his surprise, his weapon became caught; instinctively, Dylan had twisted and wrapped the bowstring around the hammer's haft and turned his arms. With a confused grunt, the bludgeon was pulled from the griffon warrior's hands. The startled half-lion half-eagle barely had time to duck behind his shield before Dylan slammed his newly acquired hammer into it. The resounding noise of the blow rung in the warrior's ears, and within the space of a second, another blow hit his shield with bonecrushing force. The warrior drew his dagger from his belt and lunged. Dylan used his backswing to knock his attacker off balance, sending the griffon's knife thrust to the side and away from him. Before the griffon could stab at him again, Dylan swung his hammer like a baseball bat; he had been one of the best hitters on his baseball team when he was younger, and the motion came as easy as breathing. With a ring of metal on metal, Dylan smashed the side of his enemy's helm inwards with such force that the griffon's neck broke, his head spinning sideways under the force of the blow.

He saw movement in the corner of his eye; it was heading straight for him. It was a large diamond dog brandishing a two-handed bardiche. The broad, wide axe-blade of the weapon gleaned in the early morning sun, as did the bared teeth of the canine. The dog wore a leather hood with holes cut for his eyes. The smile of malice on his face grew wider as he swung his weapon towards Dylan. He knew he would be too late to block the blow, but he tried anyway; he raised his hammer in an attempt to bat away the strike, his muscles tensing for the inevitable feeling of metal chopping through flesh and bone. It never came; the dog seemed to freeze in place, but his hands limply opened, dropping his weapon to the ground. The wet crunch that came before the dog's sudden halt gave some clue as to why he stopped. The thickly built canine's eyes rolled backwards into his head as he pitched forwards face first into the dirt.
Dylan glanced at the crossbow bolt lodged in the top of his fallen enemy's skull, slightly in shock.

"That's for the last time, you filth," Rarity's voice said from a second-story window, full of contempt and victory. The crossbow she held perched on the windowsill was unloaded for obvious reasons. "And I've got more where that came from!"

Dylan couldn't help but smile, even though he had not been on the greatest terms with Rarity before the battle. He hadn't forgiven her for the slight against him concerning his parents, but he had her back all the same; it was obvious she had his.
There was little time for amusement, however, as the griffons and diamond dogs were clearly overwhelming the ponies at the wall. Many lay bloody and lifeless on the ground already; more died by the second.

"Fall back! Fall back!"

Dylan's deep-throated yells were obviously heard; the ponies began moving backwards as fast as they could, still keeping their eyes on the enemy. Lyra split the face of a diamond dog open with her halberd's blade before turning and following her comrades. The invaders tried to pursue as fast as they could, but they learned quickly that if they didn't keep their shields up and cover all angles, they would take an arrow to somewhere important very easily.

Dylan snatched up the shield from the griffon whose head he had turned into a shape resembling something out of one of Picasso's paintings. He raised it just in time to stop a griffon trying to lop his head from his shoulders. The griffon swung again, striking the edge of the shield with his blade. With a low grunt, Dylan leaned backwards, swung his leg sideways, and turned. The powerful kick slammed into the back of the griffon's knees, tripping him and slamming him backwards into the ground. Dylan whirled, using his momentum to spin full-circle, slamming his hammer down on the griffon's helmet. The force of the blow caved the whole of the warrior's face inwards, collapsing his beak like it was made of glass.

***

Rex watched as the ponies retreated deeper into the town, scurrying into alleyways and inside buildings. The large diamond dog growled under his breath as he watched them. He wiped the blade of his axe, which was slick with blood; it was obviously a pony's. The taskmaster seemed to have gained a few fresh cuts in his ragged bear hide cloak. The armor underneath was dented and damaged, scarred by a few strikes that had managed to slip past his guard.

"Cowards... Look at em', hiding and running like rats."

***

Dozens of dead eyes all watched the carnage and slaughter with hunger burning in their gaze. The griffons and dogs moved through the streets like predators, pursuing their equine prey... but they weren't the only players in this game of blood. Four living eyes watched as well, tracing the movements of the warriors with grim anticipation.

The majority of the invaders pushed far into the town, taking as much ground as possible; only a few stayed behind to make sure they were not flanked from behind. The few warriors that remained at the edge of the town held their weapons tightly; paranoia wasn't always a disadvantage, especially in war; it could meant the difference between life and a grisly, bloody death.

Mostly dogs had been left behind; the commanders had seen how little discipline they had before, and expecting them not to run at the ponies like rabid mongrels hungry for blood was foolish to say the least. A few griffons stood guard among the dogs, but they didn't look too pleased to be there.

The sound of glass breaking filled the silent air with sharp, sudden sound. All of the warriors spun to the noise, poising their weapons to strike. Slowly and cautiously, a pair of the diamond dogs walked towards the sound, nudged along by their comrades. The one in front kept his spear far ahead of him, wary of anything coming close. His comrade grasped his sword tightly, holding his shield out to ward off harm. The two of them crept towards one of the typical-looking houses that filled the streets of the town; they had heard the sound come from there.

"See anything?" The dog with the sword whispered, glancing over the edge of his shield at his comrade, who was currently leaning through the open doorway of the house.

"Not really... It looks empty... Wait..."

The dog poked at something with his spear. The object sat in a pile of glass, which had obviously just been knocked out of a nearby window; the jagged hole in the glass made that very clear.

"Wait? What do you mean, wait?" The dog with the sword's nervous tone told his comrade he was not very happy about him finding something. He walked inside and looked around warily.

"Uh... It's... A rock... with a piece of paper tied around it."

"Read it!"

The spear-dog opened up the piece of paper that was crumpled around the rock, and proceeded to stare in horror at its message.

"What's it say?!"

" Oh... oh gods... 'Let's play a game'..."

The message was messily written in blood. The entire page was spattered with it, as if a psychotic artist had taken a knife to his throat and decided to paint his masterpiece with droplets of his own blood. Before he could begin running, the spear-dog heard a scream from behind him. He spun, his terrified eyes searching for the other dog. The space where his comrade had been standing was empty. His sensitive hearing picked up what sounded like water dripping. What pooled on the floor wasn't water. Half frozen in fear, the spear-dog looked up. The mangled corpse of the other dog hung there limply with its jaw open. The mask of horror on its face made him back away in fear.

(Power of Darkness- Two Steps From Hell.)

The dead body wasn't the most terrifying thing that the dog saw; a terrifying black monstrosity seemed to hang from the roof, grasping the corpse with one hand while the other held the blade that was thrust through its ribcage. The creature was covered in a chitinous carapace, from which long pointed spines seemed to extend like daggers. It had six limbs; two legs, each ending in a three-toed foot, two arms which had hands with knifelike blades for fingers, and a pair of long skeletal spars which it was currently using to hold itself up on the ceiling. It had eight coal-black eyes, all of them full of malefic desire. It's head was covered in a hardened shell, which curved and flared off to trace along the sides of two mandibles, each tipped with serrated teeth, perfect for ripping flesh with ease. The mouth of the creature was filled with double-rows of razor-sharp fangs. The smile of pure malice on the thing's face widened as it tossed the body aside and leapt from its perch.

The creature launched itself from the ceiling like a bullet. The dog tried to bring up his spear, but it was too late; It slammed into the screaming diamond dog with its feet, pinning him to the ground. With a morbid screech, it plunged its bone spars into the chest cavity of its prey. He screamed, blood gurgling from his wide-open mouth. He convulsed for a second and slumped to the floor and lay motionless.

Outside, the griffons and diamond dogs were in complete shock; they had come to fight ponies and some other creature, but nothing like the monstrosity that dashed out of the front door of the house where the two dogs had just entered. The thing still had the body of one of the dogs skewered on the two appendages on its back. It moved from side to side erratically, moving in a fluid and unnatural manner. The griffons loosed their bows at the thing, while the diamond dogs sent a few crossbow bolts hurtling towards it. None of the projectiles hit the creature; they were either evaded by it or turned the corpse it was holding into a pincushion.

The few shaken diamond dogs in front tried to form a disorganized shield wall. They huddled together and braced for the oncoming impact. The oncoming predator threw the diamond dog body over its head like a ragdoll, which slammed against the shields with a wet thump. The soldiers stumbled back slightly, shouting desperately as they saw their enemy spring upwards into the air. It came down right over their shields, slicing with the blade in its clawed hand. Its fluid swing cut a ragged gash through one of the dogs' necks, spraying dark red onto the grey cobbled stones of the street. One of the soldiers tried to smash its skull in with a spiked club, but the creature moved out of the way of the swing with unnerving fluidity.

The griffons moved forward to try and attack while their opponent was still occupied, screaming battle cries in their native tongue. They passed by their smaller canine allies, who were cringing back slightly from the thing starting to slaughter through their packmates. It thrust the tip of its bone spar through a dog's open mouth, punching straight through the back of its head. Cranial matter spilled from the out of the gaping hole in the back of the deceased diamond dog's head.

Just as the griffons reached the thing, a vile noise filled the air. It was a sickly, terrifying and deafening sound; the chittering and screeching of hundreds of rats. A sea of rotting flesh seemed to writhe from between the buildings and stream out towards the street. Hundreds of dead, broken, decomposing vermin swarmed towards the living flesh currently standing in the middle of the courtyard. The clicking of teeth and claws and the screeches of the rats seemed to drown out every other sound. Like an undead ocean of teeth, they began to rip and tear, gnawing flesh from bone with ease. They practically burrowed into the first griffon, finding holes in his armor and chewing bloody, visceral chunks out of the unfortunate warrior.

As the first griffon was dragged down, screaming and thrashing as he was eaten alive by innumerable tiny mouths, a deafening roar resounded through the street. An enormous form smashed through the boarded up front of a shop, scattering timbers and boards like they weighed next to nothing.

The thing that had just exploded onto the street began barreling towards the soldiers on the street, swinging its massively powerful arms as it ran. The rippling muscles of the creature were on full display; skin and flesh hung off of its body, as if the very meat on its bones would slough off at any moment; in fact, pieces dropped off of it as it moved. It looked completely dead, and it was death that it craved. The head of the thing had a long snout full of curved teeth and ragged strips of flesh. Its face was a rat's with dead grey eyes. What looked like jagged blades and plates of skeletal matter jutted from the surface of the thing's skin; they were viciously sharp, slicing through the first griffon in its path with frightful ease. The griffon's torn open abdomen disgorged its insides all over the ground as it fell.

One of the diamond dogs swung his blade in an overhanded swing, which connected perfectly right where the rat-thing's heart should have been. His blade tore a massive gash through the flesh of the thing's chest, sending chunks of rotten flesh splattering to the stones of the street. Before the dog could shout a cry of victory, a crooked blade of bone burst from between the monster's knuckles. The dog tried to desperately block the aberration's attack but it was too late; the gruesome blade chopped the dog's head messily off his shoulders. The decapitated dog head landed at the feet of a griffon, who kicked it away with an angry screech and charged.

The six-limbed monstrosity eviscerated a diamond dog who had been trying to reload his crossbow. His comrade tried to stab at it with his spear, but the lunge missed it entirely; the creature leaped into the air and somersaulted over the spearhead being thrust at its chest. It buried it's blade deep into the belly of the dog, then twisted it and let out a cacophony of clicking laughter, watching as its prey died before its eyes. It spun, parrying a blow from one of the griffons. Another strike bounced off the blade clutched between the monster's claws, narrowly missing its vulnerable neck. The warrior in question let out a war cry as he swung again, aiming to split the abomination into two bloody pieces. The blow whistled over the thing's head, putting the griffon off balance. He stumbled forward, right into the two blade-limbs of the creature. With a bloodcurdling scream, the griffon died as two massive points were rammed through his chest.

The rat-thing and it's swarm of undead vermin continued to push forward. The tide of flesh-eating killing machines made short work of the diamond dogs; the soldiers killed a few rats, but there were just too many for them to have any effect. The charging griffon raised the long axe he was carrying, swinging it around to try and split the rat-thing's skull like an overripe melon. The whole of his body turned with the blow, putting deadly force behind the iron axe head. The thing raised its bone weapons to try and stop the blow. The head cracked the brittle bones jutting out of the aberration easily, sending them clattering to the ground like the knuckle-bones of a seer.

The roar of the griffon as he swung his axe in an overhand swing was deafening. The axe slammed into something hard, bouncing off harmlessly with a hollow thudding noise. The rat-thing had brought up its arm to stop the axe's descent, halting the attack with thick skeletal plates which seemed to twist and writhe out of the decaying flesh of the creature. The warrior renewed his assault, chopping again and again; each time the strike was blocked by the armor-like plates of his enemy. The griffon watched as the giant ratlike beast rose up and opened its jaws wide. With a sound that was half roar and half gurgle, the creature released a noxious bile from deep within its throat. The toxic liquid hissed as it came into contact with the griffon's skin, burning and eating away at the exposed flesh. The warrior's cry of pain was cut short as a giant, spiked fist slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards into a building.

The warrior tried to stand, hauling himself up as fast as he could. He saw his axe lying on the ground at least a dozen feet away. He reached down and drew the sword he carried at his belt. He could barely admire the metallic rasp of the sword being drawn; the amount of pain coursing through his body and the disease spreading through his blood made it very hard to think. He lowered his head and looked from under the lids of his eyes at the rat thing; it was charging straight for him. He was mid-swing when the bone-mailed claws of the beast ripped him in half.

***

Rex and Bregan led the advance of the invading forces through the streets. Arrows rained down upon the formation from their various hiding spots, striking the shields of the warriors. The ponies had fled back into the alleys and buildings of the town, vanishing from sight. There was an occasional glimpse of something moving quickly between buildings, faster than any of the soldiers could track.

"Where the hell are they hiding?" Rex said, tightening his grip on his axe's haft. He bared his teeth and glanced ahead, looking between the thatched-roof buildings for any sign of his enemies.

Bregan swept his keen gaze across the path ahead, searching for something. He had a bizarre feeling; the kind you get when you know you're being watched. The veteran griffon soldier that he was told him something wasn't right. As if to affirm his assumptions, a bone-chilling noise seemed to rise up from behind them in the distance; a screeching cry like that of which Bregan had never heard, followed by screams of both griffon and diamond dog. A grotesque, growling roar split the air next, along with battle cries.

"What in damn-" Rex started to speak, but another bloodcurdling cry silenced him. The sound died as quickly as it began, leaving both Tanning's and Rover's forces in stunned silence.

"Godsss above..." Tanning hissed, turning to where the sound had come from. He scowled, knowing that his rear guard was now most likely nothing but bloody corpses.

"What was that?!"

Rover's nervous shout was regarded with a calm and indifferent gaze from his personal bodyguard. Rover gripped his glaive tightly, glancing from place to place anxiously. His honor guards surrounded him, vigilantly watching for any threat to their Alpha. The tall wolf-dog slowly flourished his rapiers in graceful arcs around him, ready for anything that might come. Rex lowered his head and rolled his shoulders, lifting up his axe. Bregan planted his clawed back feet firmly on the ground, starting to whirl the morningstar's head, preparing the momentum for a blow that would crush bone and splatter flesh. Tanning slammed the pommel of his falchion against his shield repeatedly, making a spectacular show of sound. He lifted his head high and screamed a curse in griffon at the top of his lungs. Every last one anticipated for whatever had killed the rear guard to come rampaging down the street to tear them limb from limb...

"NOW! CRUSH THE BASTARDS!"

What they did not expect was hundreds of pounds of rock to come crashing down on them.

***

Twilight had been sitting on the roof of one of Ponyville's many houses for what seemed like ages. Along with Rainbow Dash and Ditzy Doo, they had hauled as much rock as they could up onto the rooftops and secured it with nets, further tying those to the roof with rope. The idea was that when the rope was cut, the net would spill its contents onto the street below.

While they were laying flat on the roof, a strange question seemed to pop into Twilight's mind, but at the same time, it was also a very reasonable one.

"Hey, Dash?"

The rainbow-named pegasus turned her head to look at Twilight with weary eyes; moving the stone onto the roof had not been an easy task, despite the help of the unicorns' magic.

"What is it, Twilight?"

Twilight bit down on her lip slightly and looked down at the rock-laden nets, giving them a gingerly tug to make sure they were still secured to the roof. She raised a hoof upwards sheepishly, running it down her neck before she spoke again.

"Is it just me... or... has Dylan... been acting a little strange?"

Rainbow Dash's eyes widened and she seemed to scowl for a split second, anger flashing across her face. She definitely wanted to hear what Twilight had to say, but she wasn't very happy with where this was going.

"What do you mean, 'strange'?"

Twilight swallowed, trying to distract herself from the venomous look on Rainbow Dash's face. She clutched at the weapon she had been given, more willing to look at it than her friend, who she was sure she had just said something very unwise to. The weapon was a repurposed sickle, normally used for harvesting grain. It was far from a sword, but it could cut down more than stalks of wheat; it could sever a head if it was used well enough, provided it was kept sharp.

"I... I mean... Dylan... doesn't he seem to be a little more... evasive than usual?"

"What? I just met him, and he seems... okay, I guess," Ditzy Doo said, shifting on her perch.

"What? If anything, he's been more open! Remember what happened between him and Rarity?"

"Oh... Yeah, I heard about that... I... I still think he may be hiding something."

"Yeah? He was. Having your mother killed by your father and then being forced to kill him is probably not something anypony is very open about!"

Twilight cringed. Maybe she was wrong; maybe Dylan wasn't hiding anything. She felt like she had just broken a bond of trust, and that was not something one should do lightly.

"I didn't mean to- I guess you're right... But I still think-"

Rainbow Dash leaned close to her unicorn friend, putting her face inches from Twilight's own. She looked deep into her eyes, locking her in a powerful gaze. The protective nature of Rainbow Dash rose to the surface of her psyche, reacting to what she was feeling: Love.

At first, she didn't know why she loved the human, who just days ago had punched her in the face, wrestled with her in the dirt and called her names. She didn't know why she felt a longing deep inside; an alien attraction for him that pulsed through her veins like wildfire. But then, in an instant, she did: He had protected her, even after all that had happened, and even after she had pried into his past and almost started another fight. He had cared for her even though he didn't know her. He had fought for her when no one else would. Rainbow Dash had stood up to those same bullies many times before, but every time was in defense of Fluttershy; not once had she stood up for herself when they insulted her, teased her and mocked her. Inside her thick outer shell of confidence was the real Rainbow Dash; She was shy, insecure and constantly reminded of her lack of self-respect. Dylan reminded her of herself. She had never felt this way about any stallion before, much less any mare. Despite some ponies spreading rumors, she was not attracted to mares; she was just too shy to try and start a relationship.

All of these thoughts seemed to coalesce into a murky, cloudy mass of feelings and ideas; Dash's mind turned back to focus on the current situation.

"No. Twilight, everypony has secrets... things they don't want anypony to know. I think you know that better than anyone. I have my own too, but that doesn't mean you can just go poking around looking for them. What kind of a friend are you for thinking about Dylan like that? He saved you, remember?"

Twilight bit down on her lip once again, trying averting her gaze from Rainbow Dash's piercing grapefruit-colored eyes.She felt guilty now, and it showed in her face. Rainbow Dash was right; what kind of a friend was she to question Dylan after all he had done for her and her friends.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, Dash."

Ditzy Doo took her chance to speak, trying to disarm the argument.

"I think she's sorry, Rainbow Dash. She wasn't trying to upset you."

Rainbow Dash's angry expression softened a little into one of disappointment. She leaned back away from Twilight, adjusting herself back into a comfortable position on the thatched roof.

"I hope so. Now, we should be watching for-"

Twilight started suddenly, startling Rainbow Dash. The lavender unicorn ducked back behind the edge of the roof and pulled Dash back by the scruff of her mane.

"Ow! What was that f-"

"Shhhh..." Twilight whispered, holding a hoof up to her lips. After silencing Rainbow Dash, she pointed towards the outskirts of town.

"What?"

Rainbow Dash now whispered as well, looking at Twilight with a curious gaze.

"What is it?"

"It's Them," Both Ditzy Doo and Rainbow Dash tensed, their wings unfolding as if they were getting ready to take flight at any moment. "Wait until we get the signal. Everypony else is ready, we should be too."

Rainbow Dash nodded, pulling her short sword from it's scabbard as quietly as possible, inching the blade out of the sheath as slowly as possible. Ditzy slipped a hoof between the loop of cord on the handle of her club. She padded its iron-banded length in her other hoof, holding it with a slight tremble in her limbs. "Okay..." Ditzy said, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Rainbow dash, on the other hand, was excited. She craved nothing more than to get even for what the griffons had done to Applejack and the Apple family. She couldn't wait to run her blade through a griffon heart.

The mass of griffons and diamond dogs below filled the entire street. The growls and squawks of the soldiers below made the three ponies increasingly more tense. As they were getting ready to release the nets, a high-pitched keening screech seemed to rip itself into existence. The screech was followed by a thunderous, heart-stopping roar. The screams of griffon and diamond dog alike came from the direction the invaders had entered the street from. All three ponies froze in fear, the hair on their necks bristling. They had never heard anything so terrifying before in their lives. Even the roar of an Ursa Minor or a dragon didn't compare to the morbid and eldritch cries that split the air. The noise seemed to put the soldiers below on full alert; thankfully they were facing the direction that the sounds had come from and not the rooftops. Yelling rose up from the soldiers below, masking the noise of the Twilight Sparkle, Ditzy Doo and Rainbow Dash as they readied to release the nets and send their deadly cargo crashing down on the enemy below.

Ditzy Doo pulled a dagger to begin cutting the rope. She looked at it in anticipation as she waited for the signal along with her two comrades. Twilight and Rainbow Dash both had their blades ready as well, poised to drop hundreds of pounds of stone on their foes some thirty feet below.

A deep, throaty bellow, full of anger and bloodlust exploded loudly into existence.

"NOW! CRUSH THE BASTARDS!"

All three of the ponies began cutting at the ties holding the nets simultaneously, slicing away at the cords binding the whole mass of rope and stone to the roof. The sound of hundreds of stones clattering together and rolling off the side of the building did not block out the sound of a shrill female scream. Twilight and Rainbow Dash turned in horror to watch as Ditzy Doo's hoof was snagged by a coil of wayward rope, dragging her shrieking and flailing over the roof's edge.

"Heeeeel-"

Ditzy's cry was cut short when a brittle snapping sound was heard from below the roof's edge. Ditzy's screams ceased as the sound of bones being crushed like twigs and stone slamming down on metal filled the air. Screams from the enemy below filled the air; some of which ended in the sound of wet cracks and gruesome splattering.

(Together We Stand, Divided We Fall- Two Steps From Hell.)

"GIVE EM' HELL!"

***

Dylan charged, leading the attack. The sound of hundreds of hooves striking the cobblestone street filled the air as the ponies followed him. Lyra, Big Macintosh and a bluish-black coated pony in full armor followed him. The hate burning in each and every last one of Dylan's heartbeats pushed him on, igniting the fire of violence lurking in his soul. He opened his mouth wide to roar a battle cry, baring his teeth at the enemy. A few more steps and the two lines clashed, exchanging brutal blows. Dylan's hammer caved in the skull of one diamond dog before he stopped a blow from a griffon's axe. With a low snarl, Dylan slammed his shield into the warrior, who slammed his own shield back against him. Digging his heels in, Dylan lifted up and under, throwing the startled griffon backwards. The warrior landed on his back and tried to cover himself, but the amount of force in Dylan's downwards hammer strike crumpled his shield like it was made of tin foil; the body underneath shattered, spelling only death for the warrior.

From atop a rooftop, Rarity crouched and looked down with a squinted eye, directly down a crossbow bolt. She pulled the weapon's crude trigger, sending the projectile slamming through some pitiful diamond dog's sternum. She quickly used her magic to float another quarrel up to her crossbow, then pulled the string back and locked it into place. As soon as she had finished doing this, a pair of arrows slammed pointfirst into the roof a few inches from her face. She shouted a rather unladylike curse as she fired again, piercing a griffon's abdomen with the bolt this time.

Lyra deflected a thrust from a sword with the haft of her halberd, then quickly spun her weapon back in the direction she had swung it from. The axe-head of the halberd split the owner of the sword's collarbone into a number of shattered pieces. The griffon screamed, kicking out a clawed foot towards her throat. Lyra sidestepped, watching as the kick sailed past her head. The wounded warrior tried to swing his sword again, but the blow was slow and weak. He squawked in pain, trying to cover his body with his shield. He sat behind it, confident of his security. He was right to be sure about his torso's safety, but that was not Lyra's current target. She raised the blade of her halberd and brought it down in a vertical chop, just as if she were splitting a log. Unsurprisingly, the griffon blocked the blow with his shield. He didn't block what came next. The downwards chop was just a distraction; the real attack came from below. Lyra thrust her halberd between the griffon's legs and slammed it upwards. He screamed in agony as she pulled him to the ground with the spike on the back of the halberd. He tried to make one last thrust with his sword, but a sharp stab through the eyeslit of his helmet finished him for good.

Lyra didn't see the other griffon about to smash her brains out with a mace, but Big Macintosh did. He slammed the points of his pitchfork right through the warrior's throat. A few seconds of bleeding later and he was dead. The heavyset workpony pulled his weapon clear of the corpse and spun the tines of the fork, preparing for his next strike. He watched as a unicorn's head was lopped off by a very large diamond dog wearing a bearhide cloak and carrying a double-headed axe. The dog parried a spear thrust from another pony that attacked him, then swept his axe wildly to the side, burying one of the heads deep in the pony's chest. Big Macintosh narrowed his eyes and clenched his teeth in angry scowl. He ran at the dog with the axe, stabbing another diamond dog that tried to intercept him on his way to his target.

Dylan was in the middle of painting a diamond dog's face with his comrade's brains when he heard a low-pained voice.

"H-help..."

He turned and saw Ditzy Doo, whose leg was pinned under a large boulder. It appeared she had slammed into a sign on the side of a building, which probably saved her from the original hail of massive rocks. He watched as Rainbow Dash leapt off of the roof and made a fine mess of a hairless diamond dog's face with her blade. The strike swept clean through the side of his jaw and up into his eye socket, killing him instantly. A bolt of purple energy crackled past Rainbow Dash like a bolt of lightning, frying a griffon who had been about to send and arrow hurtling through the pegasus' torso. The warrior's armor crumpled and melted, and his skin flaked off in thick black chunks. The corpse was unrecognizable, thanks to Twilight's power. The unicorn vanished for a split second in a flash of purplish light, then reappeared on the ground next to Rainbow Dash. The two tried desperately to get to their fallen comrade, but a line of enemy warriors kept them back. If Twilight teleported behind them to get to her, Rainbow Dash would surely be overwhelmed and killed.

"H-he... Help..." Ditzy Doo groaned, trying to pull herself out from under the rock.

Dylan advanced, trying to weave through the massive melee to get to the downed pegasus. A griffon in decorated armor stepped in front of him. The silver trim of his platemail obviously meant he was not just a front-line foot soldier, but someone more important. He was armed with a spear and shield, while a short sword hung at his hip. The griffon thrust at Dylan with his spear, aiming for his unarmored chest. Dylan moved his shield to block the blow, but realized the true nature of the attack far too late. The griffon's feint succeeded. He stopped his spear mid-thrust and smashed Dylan across the face with the side of the blade.

Dylan's head rung, and he felt the nauseating trickle of blood pouring from the side of his face. He stumbled, trying to right his balance as he leaned from side to side. The griffon took this opportunity to try and slam Dylan with his shield. He saw the move coming, and the griffon knew it. Dylan sidestepped and ducked, snapping out his leg closest to the griffon. With a /snap/, his kick shattered the kneecap of the veteran warrior, who -to his credit- didn't scream; he simply growled and swung the spear at Dylan again. He caught the blow with his hammer and watched as the griffon knocked it out of his grip with the edge of his shield. Another quick movement of the griffon's spear slamming down on his shoulder made him drop his shield. Now seemingly defenseless, Dylan seemed the perfect candidate for a pummeling to the face, according to the griffon. He ducked under the blow, then before the griffon could figure out what was happening, he swung his fist in a bone-crushing uppercut.

He could feel the warrior's jaw breaking through his hands. This was even more impressive considering that the griffon was wearing a helmet that protected the whole face. The blow from Dylan's fist seemed to crater the faceplate of the warrior's helm, obscuring most of his view. The griffon's spear was quickly knocked away by Dylan, who reached down to his belt, took hold of the handle of his dagger and buried the blade up to the hilt in the underside of the griffon's jaw. The blade pierced clean through the top of his mouth and into the brain. The warrior slumped and Dylan pulled his blade free from the deceased warrior's head.

He quickly grabbed his hammer and shield and rushed over to Ditzy Doo, who was currently trying to lift a large boulder off of her crushed leg. The blonde-named pegasus saw him coming. Dylan got to her and immediately began lifting up the rock. Within seconds, it was off. While he wasn't looking, Ditzy had grabbed a fallen spear from under the pile of rocks. Before he could figure out what was happening, a spearpoint whistled narrowly by his face. He tended and almost swung at her, but he heard the weapon stick into something fleshy. He turned and saw a limp diamond dog leaning against the spear, skewered like a pig on a roast.

"Thanks-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Ditzy Pointed and yelled, her eyes full of fear.

"Look out!"

Dylan spun and saw a stony taloned fist being swung towards his face. The face of the fist's owner was contorted in a mask of hatred, anger and an insatiable thirst for violence.

(Well... ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!)