Evinwiir had been gutted by fire. If nothing else, that much was clear to Princess Celestia and her advisers. An urgent delivery had arrived the night before, flown in from the front lines, and what the parcel had contained shocked her beyond words.

A small, multi-faceted crystal had tumbled out onto the table, roughly diamond shaped, with a broad, flat face. It appeared to be nothing of note -- until she focused her magic on it. At that instant, a vision of the Whitetail capital jumped to the forefront of her mind, and she saw Evinwiir burning under a cloud of roiling magical energy and choking smoke, seen from the eyes of another.

A memory gem. She had not seen one in many years.

In disbelief she watched the scene unfold before her again, the rushed, confused movements of a pegasus guard trying to view the devastation without showing himself to the whitetail. There was no mistaking it: Evinwiir had been devastated by an immensely powerful explosion of some sort.

Now, with her best and brightest military minds surrounding her dais, she intended to find out what the cause had been, and who had set it off.

"Have we heard any word from Evinwiir, or Whitetail itself?" She tumbled the memory gem end over end, a nervous gesture.

"So far? None, Your Highness. With the deerfolk I'm not surprised. Secretive bastards, the lot of them," General Corinthius answered. His was a voice of no-nonsense opinion and hard facts. Very much a believer in the old ways, down to the fading, old-style naming system of pre-unity Equestria, Corinthius could always be counted on to speak his mind. "This gives us a strong advantage in pushing toward a decisive victory, however. Whatever caused this explosion has apparently weakened the adjacent walls to the point that a week-long bombardment by our siege weapons could bring them tumbling down. Something to think about."

"I'd still prefer not to go that route, General, but I will keep it in mind." Celestia turned to the venerable Legatus-Adeptus Shadowstrike, the aptly-named head of Equestria's extensive reconnaissance network. "Do your spies bring any word?"

"Not enough to go on," the weary pegasus admitted. "The bucks under our command are rightfully worried about being found out, following this incident. I hear only rumors and hear-say. All I can tell you is that the whitetail are, unsurprisingly, blaming this on us, and you in particular, Princess."

Celestia rubbed her muzzle with a hoof. "I had expected as much. To think they still believe me capable of such things is frustrating and saddening." She studied the map table for a time before speaking once more. "Is it possible one of our forward commanders authorized such a thing, perhaps in some misguided attempt to end the war sooner?"

Corinthius shook his head. "Doubtful. If this magic-infused fire is the same emerald flame the whitetail have used against us, it would take a massive amount of it to create the damage you described. A warehouse, maybe, or a storage room of some sort. The numbers required to get past the defenses of such a place would be far larger than could conceivably be sneaked in by magic or flown in via pegasus wagon, even under the cover of night."

"And more to the point, we don't harm civilians. Ever." Legatus Lentius, the commander of the Royal Guard, stomped a hoof for emphasis. "We are better than that, Princess."

"If only the deer understood that," Celestia frowned. "So if it wasn't us, then who was it?"

"It could have been an accident, emerald fire is extremely volatile."

"'Accident' nothing; this reeks of whitetail deception." Corinthius tapped a hoof on the large map, where unit markers of Equestrian emblems surrounded the southern half of Evinwiir's immediate area. "From the very onset of this war we've seen how the whitetail will lie and manipulate to further their cause. Just look at River Run, and the poor civilians who were slaughtered there. Any logical creature would have realized it was the Nightmare Moon cults who carried out such murderous actions, but because those lunatics wore stolen Equestrian armor, suddenly we're a force for evil."

"Chancellor Artellus believed us," Celestia added. How she wished Artellus still lived -- things would be so different. Perhaps the war would have been avoided entirely.

"That he did, right up until the moment an Equestrian follower of Princess Luna drove a blade into his heart. In any case, those events served as a convenient fulcrum to shift popular opinion against us. Whitetail obviously has some long-standing issue with us we weren't aware of. I don't suppose you're closer to finding out why, Princess?"

Celestia shook her head. "Nearly half a year of conflict, I yet I still do not know what resentment they harbor. We have not been at war with Whitetail since before I was born, and even then, it was not war so much as it was a series of skirmishes under my father's command. I doubt that is the cause of all this."

"Excuse me for interrupting," Shadowstrike said, "but I believe we've long since passed the point of concerning ourselves with the 'why'. Instead, we should focus on the 'how'. Namely, how do we react to this event? If Whitetail and its government continues to ignore our missives, then we should show their people that we do not want to harm them, and that we do, in fact, have their best interests in mind."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

Shadowstrike lifted one of the emblems from the table, a crescent moon against a black background -- the symbol for the Nightmare Moon cults. Its likeness dotted the map, with small encampments and reported movements displayed for all to see. "Obviously it was not our forces who destroyed a large portion of Evinwiir, and I highly doubt the whitetail would do such a thing to their own citizens, so that only leaves one culprit."

"My sister's followers?" Celestia asked. "Do you think they're capable of devastation on that level?"

"Considering they did not hesitate to launch a full-scale assault on Canterlot, this palace included, I would say they're entirely capable. Since most of the cultists are Equestrian, it would be easy to place false blame on us yet again. Hell, I'd posit that they're controlling much of this war without either side being aware of the extent. Luna -- excuse me, Nightmare Moon -- could be weakening our forces for an attack of her own. I wouldn't put it past her." Shadowstrike placed the emblem back down, feeling a pang of regret for mentioning Luna again. He hated doing so, but such was the reality of their situation. "It makes tactical sense. Let your opponents kill each other, and when they're depleted and battle-weary, move in to finish them off. We can't allow that to happen."

Lentius had been studying the map for some time, and waited until Shadowstrike was finished to speak his mind. "What we need is a preemptive assault on the cultist camps. We have to strike swiftly and decisively, before they can grow their numbers once more. It would free our soldiers from having to worry about anything but the whitetail--"

"--and it would show the whitetail that we want to be rid of my sister's worshipers just as much as they do," Celestia finished for him.

"Indeed so, Princess. I'd say it's a solid idea."

"Legatus Shadowstrike, where is the single largest concentration of these followers located? Do we have any idea?"

"We do, Your Highness." He pointed to a spot just to the northwest of Evinwiir, tucked into the mountains that divided Whitetail in two. "Here, in the Midlands. There are smaller camps spread out in the area, but this one resembles a fort more than the ramshackle groups of tents and lean-tos than we've seen from the others. We've been unable to get close enough for accurate descriptions, but what I can tell you is that it's walled-in and difficult to assault from the front."

"Can we remove it by force?"

"We could remove the entirety of Whitetail's population by force if you wanted," Corinthius added. Numerically we have more than enough soldiers to mount an attack, even with the cycle of leave and reinforcements."

Celestia nodded. "In that case, I want this fort taken as soon as possible, but I do not want to simply throw bodies at it until it falls. We need to be smart about it."

"Leave that to me, Princess. I'll dig around and see what units we have in the area that could contribute their finest. Getting a cohort together will take a few days at the most."

"Very well, General. I leave it in your capable hooves."

"As you wish, Princess," Corinthius answered with a salute.

"Shadowstrike, I want as much information as you can get from your network. Numbers, species, fighting ability, anything you can find. Also, once the operation is under way, I want every soldier to be aware that there is a reward for anything that can lead us to better understand the cults, especially communication pendants."

"Of course, Princess. I am at your service."

"Thank you. If both of you would report back to me by nightfall, I would greatly appreciate it." Celestia bowed her head in respect as the others saluted, and they were soon on their way. Legatus Lentius looked up at her as the doors closed.

"And what of myself, Your Highness? Do you not require my services in this matter?"

Celestia trotted across the room and retrieved a small scroll, bound in red twine and sealed with an official stamp of yellow wax. "I have something special in mind for you, Lentius. A mission of the utmost urgency." As she approached him she lowered her voice and quickly looked around to make sure they were alone. "I need you to personally deliver this to Battle-Master Gilias of the 44th Legion. Do you know of her?"

"She is the griffon who fights with us on 'unofficial' terms, yes. If you need me to find her, Princess, then I will do so with all due haste."

Lentius was one of the fastest fliers in all of Equestria, and loyal to the end. If anyone could carry out the princess' orders, it was him. "Thank you, Lentius. There is a lot riding on this missive. No one else, no matter their rank, is to read its contents."

As Lentius departed, Celestia had to laugh at how strange the whole situation was. The head of the Royal Guard, tasked with delivering a message to a war-hungry griffon from Skytalon, so that the followers of her fallen sister would be brought to justice before they could harm the whitetail, who wanted nothing less than her head on a spike.

With any luck, things would soon be much simpler.

The twelfth of Winter's Wind was to be an important day for Equestria, and an especially important day for Battle-Master Gilias, for it marked the first time that an all-out offensive on the cult of Nightmare Moon would be launched. For months the followers of the fallen princess had been a thorn in the side of Equestria's war efforts, even going so far as to launch unprovoked attacks on settlements in Whitetail, Cerivdae and the western border of Skytalon.

The massed assault on Canterlot had been a wake-up call of sorts for the armies of ponykind; the capital had previously been thought to be nigh impregnable against all but the most determined of forces, but those who slayed Equestrian soldiers and citizens in Nightmare Moon's name were not of a traditional army. They had blended in with the crowds, trickled into the city in small groups, and when the time was right, they had struck. It was a costly lesson to learn for Celestia and her advisers.

Today, Battle-Master Gilias and her charges would see to it that the cults would never again grow to such strengths. Nearly five hundred of Equestria's soldiers had joined with seventy of the Legion's finest, led by the 44th under Gilias' temporary command. Together they marched north, around Evinwiir where a black-green cloud still hung in the air, toward the mountainous region that split Whitetail into two distinct land masses. Here, it was said, was where the Nightmare Moon worshipers had set up their own fortifications, a staging point from which to launch attacks on the surrounding area.

In truth, Gilias wondered if such a thing was really necessary while the war still raged. Why not let the cultists cause as much chaos and confusion for the whitetail as possible? They could always be dealt with later.

Celestia had apparently thought differently, hoping that the elimination of the threat to Whitetail's well-being would serve as a show of good faith and, perhaps, would extend an olive branch for potential negotiations.

Gilias both admired and pitied the pony princess for her idealism, but as long as they kept paying her, she would keep fighting whatever battles they wanted. The incentive of finding a certain bit of intelligence for the Princess herself, with the promise of a big reward for doing so, was a welcome one.

The Midlands, as the whitetail called it, was a cold and rocky place. In many ways it reminded her of Skytalon and its mountain homes, the perfect shelter from the biting winds that swept through the peaks and valleys. Of course, no one had thought to dig into the mountains out here, a fact she lamented as windblown snow stung her face like razors, her plumage doing little to keep the weather away. The large force behind her was not fairing any better, judging by the swears and grunts as they trudged up a series of paths that would eventually lead them to their battleground. Pegasi flitted by overhead, shielding their eyes and looking for any sign of the cultists. So far, it had been a quiet affair.

"Shame Victus isn't here," Steel Spark said behind her, his voice muffled by a cloth he had secured around his face, leaving only his eyes and the tip of his muzzle exposed to the elements.

"Why's that?" Gilias asked.

"Because then we could hear him bitching for once. He hates the cold."

Gilias smirked at the thought of the usually resilient pegasus cursing and grumbling at her side. He would have been useful for reconnaissance, at least, with that white coat of his. She had grown to enjoy the ponies as more than simple fodder, but she still questioned their choice of aerial scouts. One would think a bright green or pink speck would be easier to spot than one that blended in.

"Everyone hates the cold, Equestrian. Hell, I've lived in it nearly every day for my entire life, and I still despise it. Still, Victus could complain all he liked if it meant having his blade at our sides."

"Truth," Steel Spark agreed.

"At least he gets to be home for a while, the lucky bastard," someone else said. "Why him and not us?"

"Because leadership comes with its own perks. Besides, you know him -- I'm sure he objected to being one of the few sent away for a while. Probably raised a scene down at the command post."

Steel Spark stared at the cloudy sky with a wistful look in his eyes. "What I wouldn't give to be in my own bed, with a belly full of hot food and a beautiful mare at my side. Or between my legs."

Gilias gave a short laugh. "If you could find a bed, I'd let you fuck me right about now if it meant getting out of this weather."

"Is that an offer?"

"Prove yourself in combat today and maybe then we'll see. Be warned, however, that I have a very sharp beak, and I won't hesitate to use it should you prove...unsatisfactory. I will be the last female you ever fail to please."

The others around her laughed and sounded off with crude words.

"I'll hold you to that, Battle-Master."

"Heh. I bet you will, Equestrian."

A pegasus landed in front of her and saluted, his red cloak flapping in the wind. "Legionary Windshear reporting, Battle-Master!"

Gilias returned the gesture. "What have you got for me?"

"Myself and several others have spotted the encampment ahead, perhaps an hour's march from here."

"Right, at least we're going in the proper direction. Details?"

"We could not get an exact count of their numbers, I'm afraid. They have their own flying lookouts consisting of a few pegasi and several griffons, so we had to stay out of sight. Judging by the size and number of tents we estimate no fewer than six to seven hundred of the cultist scum. We will have the advantage of surprise on our side at least, Celestia willing."

The pony made a circle over his armored chest, the symbol of the sun. Unsurprisingly, there were those who believed the Princess to be a living deity. Gilias thought it heretical to put one's faith in anyone but the Emperor, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Anything else of note? Traps, ambushes?"

"If such things are present we could not locate them. Best be on your guard, just in case."

"My thanks for the information. Keep an eye out, and if you see them begin to move, let me know immediately."

"Yes, Battle-Master."

The pegasus took to the sky again, wobbling as a gust of wind temporarily threw him off balance. Gilias stood on her hind paws and raised a claw in the air. "Listen up, ponies! We're not too far out from the camp, so keep your heads on a swivel and report anything you see that looks like it could try to tear you a superfluous breathing hole! The path narrows ahead, so I want you to form up six across! Keep the cohort together! Centurions, relay everything I've said to your stallions, I don't want a single mistake on our way up! Understood?"

A chorus of shouts answered her. Satisfied, she led the way up the mountain pass, her claws itching to grasp her curved swords once more. It wouldn't be long until she could add more kills to her total. The Emperor would be proud this day.

It was early afternoon before the Equestrian force came within striking distance of the Nightmare Moon battlements. Gilias and four pegasus Legionaries crouched behind a ridgeline of jagged rocks, observing the enemy below. They were well-organized and well-armed, though none of them seem to be on particularly high alert -- mostly they milled around the camp talking with one another or carrying out mundane tasks, with one of them occasionally stepping just outside the fort's tall, wooden walls to pull materials from a supply cache located under a tall, snow-covered fir tree.

"Should we really be this close?" one of the pegasi asked.

"Relax, the sun's at our backs. No one's gonna see us up here unless we want 'em to." Gilias watched with interest as a trio of griffons consulted with a hooded pony, then took the sky and flew off to the east. Scouts? Runners? Difficult to say. "This place is gonna be a stubborn bitch to crack open. Walls are too steep for non-flyers to climb, so that's out of the question. Not enough flat land to support a large force, even if we did get them all up here. Looks like we really will have to assault it from the front." She grimaced at the thought. "We're going to take a beating before we can even get to the gates. There's practically no cover after the bend in the path."

"It does widen as we approach, at least," another Legionary said, pointing to the well-worn road. "If we can avoid a bottleneck we should be able to approach with minimal casualties."

"We just need the initial century to be a distraction for the others. Everything else will fall into place after that. Hopefully." Given the defenses she could see from her vantage point -- including several bolt-throwing siege contraptions -- she didn't envy the first wave's chances of survival.

She turned as a pony landed beside her and immediately crouched. "Battle-Master, the cohort is ready. Centurions Krastis and Thundershield report that their charges are in position and awaiting your command. As well, a detachment of pegasi are gathered below, as you requested."

"What about the arcanists?" she asked, alluding to Equestria's most powerful magic users.

"They will perform their part, but they need a clear line of sight before they can execute the maneuvers you ask."

"So everything is riding on getting those gates open," she said, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes, Battle-Master, it would appear so."

"Great." To say Gilias was apprehensive would have been putting it lightly. No plan survived contact with the enemy, so the saying went, and such a complex, multi-pronged attack relied on all of its parts working without fail. There was a lot of potential for things to go belly-up. "We need to make sure the ground pounders can get as close as possible without being spotted..." Gilias stuck out a claw. "You two, give me your body wraps."

The pegasi looked at each other, then her. "To what end?"

"Those flying look-outs will be the first to find us out. We need to remove them from the equation. Now, give me your damn clothing before I take it from you."

Begrudgingly they removed the warm, earth-colored lengths of cloth from their necks and hind quarters, shivering as a fresh wave of cold came over them.

"I thought you pegasuses were supposed to be more tolerant of the weather," she quipped as she secured the wrappings to her own body, covering up her Skytalon armor as best she could.

"Tolerant, not immune," one of them answered. "It's freezing up here, if you hadn't noticed."

"Stop your whining, you'll get 'em back soon enough. Now, watch my back."

With a powerful flap Gilias was airborne, keeping out of sight as she dipped between rock formations. She hovered in place as she looked around; there, above her, not too far ahead -- a pegasus wearing the dark blues and blacks of Nightmare Moon. Quickly she darted up behind the pony, pulling up alongside it. She let out a shrill whistle, causing the look-out to stumble through the air for a brief moment as he looked over in surprise.

"Brother, I may have found an interloper," she yelled over the blustering winds. The pony eyed her cautiously. "Will you come with me to check? Or would you like to explain to our brothers why you failed to perform your duties?" She was relieved when he nodded and fell in formation. Together they ducked behind a rock ledge, coming to a stop on an outcropping. "Just below us, down near the valley. Do you see it?" she asked, pointing at nothing in particular.

The pegasus held a foreleg to his brow and squinted against the snow. "I am not sure what--"

A curved sword took his head off in a single, clean strike, tumbling off the stony outcroppings below. Gilias kicked his body down after it and wiped the blood from her weapon. "One down."

A short time later she was airborne once more, continuing to fly a large, lazy circle around the edges of the camp. A few cultists looked up at her, but none paid her any particular attention -- except for a griffon who was flying its own patrol. Gilias waited until the follower was nearly at her side, then stopped and hovered in place with a wave of her claw.

"Hail, Sister!" she shouted above the wind. If not for the black-tipped plumage, Gilias thought, the griffon could have been a spitting image of herself. "The name's Gwinalin. Just got here a few days ago."

The other griffon stopped just before her and bowed her head. "Greetings, Gwinalin. I'm Gahltris of Mountain Home. I have not seen you around here."

"It's a big camp," Gilias shrugged.

"Indeed it is! You have heard the story of our Goddess' injustice, then?"

"I, uh, have, yes. It's truly something."

Gahltris smiled. "You still wear the armor of Skytalon? I know of some Equestrians who insist on doing the same."

"I do. Practicality comes first. After all, how am I to mock the Emperor and his servants without it?" Inwardly Gilias cursed for not covering herself better. Perhaps it was good fortune she'd come across another griffon, even if she was a traitor.

"Spilling blood in an affront to Skytalon's imperialistic ways? I can think of no better reason!"

"Yeah, that's what I figured. Hey, do you think you could come with me for a moment? I think I spotted a nonbeliever around here."

The griffon reached under her robes and produced a pair of curved blades that were decorated with the language of the Griffon Empire, the very same weapons Gilias herself had used for many years. She'd found another Battle-Master.

"If there are interlopers to be dealt with, Sister Gwinalin, then we shall do so together! You have much experience in battle, yes? Your scars speak to such things."

"I've been in a few," Gilias said. This wasn't going to be as easy as she'd thought. "So you'll join me, then?"

Gahltris crossed her blades, a symbol of coming battle. "I have not tasted my enemy's blood in many years, but I am eager to do so again. Lead the way."

For a moment Gilias hesitated, then cautiously flew beyond the watchful eyes of the camp below. Cold winds blew against her face as she tucked her wings in briefly to pass under an arch, watching Gahltris do the same with flawless precision.

"It is rare to find another griffon out here," Gahltris shouted. "From where in Skytalon do you hail?"

"Icewind Caverns," Gilias answered, rounding an outcropping. She just had to find somewhere to put down...

"Ah, Icewind! I know it well! I lived there for some time after the war with Whitetail! Strange that we now find ourselves here, isn't it?"

"Yeah, life's odd like that." Gilias hated the idea of killing another war veteran, especially one that had fought in the same conflicts she had, but she had little choice.

A patch of hardy grasses caught her eye as she approached a low rise. It would have to do.

"Just around here," she said, "I think I saw them!"

She turned to look behind her, only to have a curved sword slice into the black and blue leather armor. She squawked in surprise and immediately went for her weapons, but before she could reach them Gahltris was upon her, swinging a blade that would have taken her head off had she not slammed into the side of a sharp cliff.

One of Gahltris' swords was flung from her claws by the force of the impact, and together they tumbled down until they came to a rest next to the skeletal husk of a tree. Gilias had her talons dug into Gahltris' shoulder, but her opponent had done the same to her right wing. They were battered and cut from the fall, but the rush of adrenaline was more than a match for such minor injuries.

"Did you really think I'd buy into your ruse, Battle-Master Gilias?" the traitor laughed, swinging her remaining sword down. It dug into the rock beside Gilias' head. Too close. "I know who you are, coward!" She punctuated her words with swipes and stabs, only failing to land a killing blow thanks to Gilias' quick action in pulling a hidden dagger from under her wing. If she used all of her strength she could stop the curved blades from plunging into her neck, but just barely.

"You fucking traitor," Gilias spit back, trying desperately to reach for one of her swords. A strike dug into her armor and cut along her ribs, and she yelled out in pain and anger. She expected Gahltris to mock her, to tell her that she would lose her soul to Nightmare Moon, like so many of the others were fond of saying, but Gahltris was pragmatic in combat. She had just gripped the pommel of her sword when she felt a hammer blow against her skull, and her sight went blurry like she had drank an entire barrel of nectar wine.

Gahltris headbutted her again, and her sight threatened to fade to black. She flailed her arms in an attempt to save herself, but the weapon raised above her head started to come down no matter how hard she struggled.

Then something slammed into her side, sending Gahltris careening off the tree trunk. Confused, she looked up in a haze and saw Steel Spark driving his blade into the griffon's chest before pulling it out and hacking one of her wings into a bloody mess of meat and feathers. His assault was relentless, a torrent of gladius strikes that continued unabated as Gahltris squawked and shrieked and flapped her ruined wings in panic. For the first time, Gilias was impressed, and a bit terrified, by the brutality of an Equestrian's actions. She was glad it wasn't her on the receiving end of it.

After well over a dozen thrusts Steel Spark drew his blade across Gahltris' throat, then turned and delivered a buck so powerful that it crushed the griffon's face in with a sickening, wet crunch, spraying gore and bits of bone against the snow-covered tree. He stood in place for several seconds, breathing heavily, before putting his weapon away and turning to face Gilias.

"I have no sympathy for those who would harm my companions," he said plainly. Blood had dripped down his weapon and stained his mouth red, and he spat on the ground at the copper taste of his defeated opponent. "Well? Are we going to finish our tasks or aren't we?" He stuck out a hoof, and Gilias grasped it as he helped pull her up.

"Thanks for saving my ass," she said, tucking the dagger back into its sheathe. "It was stupid to let my guard down like that." She was sore and bloody, but she'd live. Steel Spark helped her pull a small medical bag from her hip, and together they bandaged her wound.

"It happens. At least that griffon won't be harming anyone else now."

Gilias could only look at the mutilated body for a second before turning away. "Yeah, no shit." A fresh wave of pain shot through her as they pulled one of the wrappings tight. "She said she knew who I was. Apparently I'm becoming pretty well-known among these darkness worshiping assholes."

Steel Spark looked her over. "Is that bad?"

"Just means I'll have to kill anyone who recognizes me." She managed a smirk despite the pain, which got a laugh out of Steel Spark.

"It's times like these I'm thankful we're not at war with the Griffon Empire."

"After what you did to that poor bitch, I'd say the same for Equestria." Gilias spread her wings out and flapped them once to make sure everything was in working order. "Two more flying scouts are around here. Watch my back?"

"As always, Battle-Master. Can't complain about the view."

She looked over her shoulder as she took to the air.

"Damned right you can't."

Not far from the Nightmare Moon camp, Centurion Sanctus waited impatiently for the signal to move out. Behind him, one hundred and four Equestrian Guard soldiers stood ready, armed and armored for the coming fight. He walked the lines and spoke briefly with each of them, reassuring them that they would live through the battle if they remembered their training and prayed to the gods.

In truth, many of them would die. Most of the soldiers under his command were raw recruits, fresh from Equestria -- replacements for the veterans who had been sent home to see their families. They would be the first to face the wrath of the foul cultists, their hastati leading the way for the more experienced combat troops in the second and third ranks.

There were four centuries in total, equaling over four hundred and fifty earth ponies and unicorns. All of the pegasi, over seventy in total, had already set out to join Battle-Master Gilias. The element of surprise would be their greatest strength.

"How fare your stallions?" someone asked, and Sanctus looked up to see Centurion Spearhead. The tall earth pony wore a blue crest upon his helm, similar to Sanctus' own, but with a stripe of gold running down the middle, marking him as a particularly brave leader for his actions in combat.

"Frightened, but eager. Yours?"

"Same, same." Spearhead jerked his head toward the narrow pass ahead, the final obstacle before the fort. "Not looking forward to rushing through such confines. If the cultists have archers or siege weapons aimed at it we'll be walking into a slaughter."

Sanctus nodded. "Not like we have much choice. We'll have to form up with the others once we clear it and pray the griffon woman and her pegasi can do their duties."

"And the arcanists. And the Legion soldiers attached to them."

Spearhead looked over the huddled, shivering ponies before him.

"One thing at a time."

Drying blood coated both of Battle-Master Gilias' weapons and seeped down her armor, making her look like some kind of crazed animal for everyone to see. She wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Everyone listen up," she shouted as she clung to a rock face just behind the crest of the hill nearest the fort. Eighty-two pegasi locked eyes on her. "Once we move out we're going to stay in tight formation. Move as you need to to avoid arrows, but stay together if at all possible. I know this is the first time many of you will be seeing combat, so stay with the Legionaries, they're good fighters. If you get confused, just look for the red crests. Got it?" A gust of wind threatened to blow her from her perch, and she scrabbled to keep her footing. "Fuckin' Midlands. Once we release our payloads," she tapped the twine-wrapped bundles at her side, "we'll land and start hacking those fuckers apart. Don't stick around in one place for too long; touch down, get a kill, and take off again. Your armor isn't as thick as the rest of the Guard, so don't count on it to stop a direct hit from a blade. In and out. We just need to sow enough confusion and chaos to get your little pony friends into the fort itself. Don't be a damn hero, or I'll lop your head off myself. Understood?!"

"Hah-ooh!" they answered as one.

"That's what I like to fuckin' hear!" She dramatically spread her wings open with a powerful flap. "Let's get to it, ponies!"

A low, reverberating horn echoed through the canyon, and was soon answered by a higher, shorter return. Sanctus raised his signal flag to the others: it was time. He looked up in time to catch the tail end of the flying formation darting by, low and fast, led by the indomitable griffon he'd heard so many tales about. Now, he supposed, he would see whether she could live up to them.

"Century, combat formation!"

With practiced precision his stallions formed up into three lines, then turned to face the narrow opening. If they could just get through, they would be in a good position to assault the fort.

"Shields up!"

The lines interlocked their tower shields to form an impenetrable wall. The time for battle was upon them at last.

"Advance!"