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The Arena: Sky Crack vs Dunder


SteelEagle

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Three weeks ago, Crimsonrine Sea, north of Seaddle

The longship still burned, though the fire had long ago arced from its blazing orange fury to a boring shade of smoke-masked brown and black with only the hint of orange providing the truth underneath. It was being pulled from the water by four great chains falling from the sky, each five or so feet of movement coming with a sudden stop. Each time it did so, a few planks and boards tumbled out, leaving the only evidence of its existence on the waters a few pieces of floating wood. Nothing that couldn't be explained as a simple crash against the rocks, which was just as the Tenth Pegtasi wanted it to be. No need to attract unsavory attention this close to the Whitescar even as they came sniffing closer and closer to their target. It was that end point that intrigued Sky Crack so much.

Sky watched the longship being pulled up from the sea on board the Tenth's Air Trawler. It wasn't an effective combat vessel but any time the Acroneighi went abroad in search of monsters to slay they almost universally encountered sea or ground based foes, so the ship they had designed to haul up Maretonian Earth Pony and Unicorn fortifications and other obstacles on the ground for closer inspection. In an operation like this, the four heavy chains that they would attack to what they wanted to drag up by the pulleys and muscle mass of the Acronieghi soldierly allowed for a degree of stealth. This was important, because if there was one thing they had going for them so far it was that the caribou had no idea they were coming for them.

They had taken this ship with relatively low casualties while caribou losses had been total. Caribou prisoners now crowded the trawler, held in soft feeling but unbreakable to them cloud cuffs and chains made of concentrated pegasi magic. Sky had already seen to it that every piece of armor and weapon carried by the defeated had been captured and accounted for and placed in storage along with the other six ships they had ambushed on the way over. A few caribou had been interrogated in short order- Sky Crack was an all stick approach interrogator who knew what could shame a caribou most heartily. She had also tended to the wounded the Tenth had suffered in the battle and seen to arrangments for those who fought for Acroneighos now in the afterlife, their bravery and sacrifice earning them a place amongst the honored dead. Now with all those tasks knocked out, Sky Crack worked into fitting this caribou ship's trajectory into the overall scheme they had been foiling.

“How is it, Accompli?”

Sky Crack bolted up to attention, her face once buried into a map with several markers on it now impassively stonewalling as she stood at attention and gave a salute.

“It goes well, Strategos.”

“Good. Relax already.”

Sky Crack did so, smirking for a second before casting her gaze back at the map.

“Everything fitting in its proper place?” The strategos asked. A larger stallion of advanced age, Sky Crack would think twice before labelling him as anything other than a glorious leader of the Acroneighi. This was her first time working with him as Sky Crack normally worked for Strategos Thunderbolt, but the Tenth had need of a Strategos who had gotten his name as a member of the Naval Wing and Storm Squall was it. He wandered over to the map and looked at it with her.

“Yes, Strategos. This longship was heading to one of the islands in the inner delta of Seaddle to pick up Equestrian turncoats on the orders of Jarl Fire Watch of Clan Vaarkasberg. We received word of this rendezvous from the ship we ambushed near Hoofenheim, which in turn we knew to attack because of what we did outside of Prance. Rinse and repeat going back in time to the engagement in the Quagga, our night raid on Puerto Aguila, the Neighples Delta, and it all started with...” she clenched her teeth, “the ambush of our allies in Maretonia itself by caribou-aligned traitors. All of it under the orders of the Jarl Fire Watch, all of it either involving or seeking out foreign members to join his Clan. This time we have not been given the name of another rendezvous point, but a land location. A city called Saarvergerg and a combat arena where he is preparing to select some new foreigners for his cause,” Sky Crack finished, drawing lines to each location as she spoke. There was a number assigned to each location and a large folder full of documents assigned to those numbers, after action reports, analyzation, and commentary from Sky Crack. She was already three pages deep into this newest encounter.

“Correct. What does my Accompli suggest?”

“I would personally like to see us raid the city at night, but I don't think we have the strength. We would need the entire Tenth to muster here and that would take time and we'd no doubt be discovered.”

“Correct. There is but one thing to do.”

“What would that be, Strategos?”

Now, Saarvergerg Battle Arena

This was a land of heavy armor and weaponry. No doubt she would be facing a foe who used some sort of armor scheme that would leave her at a disadvantage so she had foregone her own heavy armor scheme. A scalar cuirass and chainmail setup was all she'd use. Caribou loved axes and while neither would prevent her from getting hurt they could at least give her a second chance at life though likely not a third. Her apsis was decorated with the number ten on it and she wore no helmet. To this battle she had brought her gladius which, contrary to what many thought, was efficient in both thrusting and cutting. She had debated long and hard and had decided of her many spears to go with the Hasta, her other options being too heavy or long. Two pilium joined her today as did a crossbow with a great many bolts. She would use the pilium quickly, both to throw her opponent off balance as well as lose the weight. Almost universally she believed she would be able to use her speed to her advantage. It was bound to be a grand fight.

And grand it needed to be if she were to accomplish her task. She needed to be impressive, impressive enough to get Jarl Fire Watch to want to hire this Acronighan renegade. Then Sky Crack would lad his forces into an ambush and Acroneighos would have its revenge for the action in Maretonia. Hopefully that would serve as a warning to even the mightiest warriors of the world that the reach of Acroneighos was long and lethal and that nocreature could escape their brand of justice. In order to do that she needed to win. She was confident in this. The Acroneighi were known across the world for being some of the best soldiers and Sky Crack was a Scout Accompli, one of the elite. She was confident. Speed and endurance. Range and careful planning. This fight had no time limit and a cadre of local, zebra, and renegade pony healers were In the stands so she knew she didn't have to hold back- any attack short of something instantly lethal would be healed. She didn't need to hold back. The crowd was overjoyed at that. The arena was somewhat broken, ancient rock walls tumbling down and protection for the crowd overhead being offered from transparent unyasan wood. They wouldn't have concerns regarding their attacks hitting the spectators.

Crack stuck the blunt end of her hasta into the ground, bringing out her apsis and holding a pilium. She wanted her foe and she wanted her foe now. The pre-fight buildup was always worse than the fight itself! “I, Sky of the Acroneigh, am prepared for war! Come at me and be broken!”

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There was no other reason for Dunder to be in Saarvergerg than for the sake of being there. At least, no good reason. He had heard these newly opened caribou lands were home to warrior cultures, and with warrior cultures there were places to fight in times of peace. He heard of an arena where the strongest came to fight. In a giant, crudely dug pit stained with battle. Where warriors have fought and bled for probably as long as the city had been there. That's why the pegasus marched to the forsaken land of cold, to leave his own passage on a site of such epic proportions.

But before he could just trot into the arena and demand a fight, he needed some insurance first. Armament shops lined the streets, and none were beyond Dunder's curiosity in his search. Store after store he looked, trying to find the perfect specimen. At least, something that wouldn't break his purse.

And there he was now, waiting behind the gate that could very possibly lead to his doom. And all just because he was seeking glory. His helmet was off, and the long strip of pink cloth was folded neatly beside him on the bench he was warming with his rump. The pegasus felt uneasier than ever, the wait was killing him! He was not used to fighting opponents taller and stronger than him and these caribou were a fearsome mix of both, though he had seen some non-caribou in the streets and crowding for the stands.

The bell above the gate rang, and the crowd was getting increasingly restless. The thick walls of the arena seemed to just bottle up the excitement. All it did was add to the butterflies in Dunder's stomach. His hooves were shaking, his leg was bumping. He wished he could just get a swig of bubbly cider to calm himself down. But only he and his equipment were down in the guts of the arena's tunnels.

He slowly got off the bench, hoping to seek inward for comfort. The pegasus stood on his hindlegs and looked up at the dim oil lamp that spilled its light in the dark, damp room. "O..." He muttered something and rasied his forelegs to the light, "bestow upon me your righteous love and furious strength. Grant me serenity and stillness as my enemies pound and howl." He slowly brought his hooves down to his chest and closed his eyes. Again the bell rung and he flicked his ear. He could see the cack of day breaking into the darkness of the room under the lifting gate.

The stallion took a deep breath, remembering to know no fear. Slowly he pulled on his helmet, careful to get the mail around his neck and face. He grabbed the neatly folded thick strip of pink cloth and wrapped it around his helmet several times and tied it at the back. When he was done putting all his swords in his belt and his recently puchased 'insurance', a crude shield made out of thick wooden slabs pasted and bound together with thick leather bands, on his back. He grabbed his halbard and carried it behid his hoof and through the crook of the neck. Making it easy enough for him to trot through the arena gates.

His eyes were locked on the ground as he exited, but when he heard the call from his opponent, he knew he had to respond. He lifted his eyes from the ground and rested them on what he beleived to be... a mare? No horns, and didn't seem striped. Too small to be a griffon and no sight of talons. At least he wasn't fighting a dragon.

She was clad in the armor of those ponies who dwell on sea. Known for their pikes, but nothing could beat the pikes from the land of deserts and jungles.

The almond eyed warrior trotted a few ponies' length from the front of his gate. The stallion stood up on his hindlegs and flared out his wings, a feral instinct to make himself seem more intimidating. He wrapped his hoof around the shaft of the halbard and slowly and rhtmically started to lift it up and slam the flat, metal-covered head against the dirt like a heartbeat. Quickly the hits picked up speed as he stared her down. The slow and rhyhmic speeding to a rapid series of beats. Quickly he picked up the halbard and pointed it out to her "¡Ya basta!" He shouted before luinging forward and charging, using his wings to help close the vast distance between him and his opponent.

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Sky Crack analyzed her foe as he stepped out onto the arena's show floor of terror and honor. He was a pegasus, his wings flared out in a barbarian manner in an effort to intimidate her. She had seen many a barbarian tribespony do such things, from the old pegasi cities of Mexicolt and Ricolti to the Earth Pony villages of the Foalsom plains of Maretonia. The Acroneighi were above that, disciplined and efficient to the core. It matched their warrior philosophy and ethos and that was why they were the best of the best in the world. In the face of brute strength and devious plots the mares and stallions of Acroneighos who strode forward into battle yielded little to fear or discontent. All that proud display did besides showcase his beautiful plumage was that he indeed was a pegasus. That was good! Pegasi were always a good fight.

It did change how she planned on fighting, however, as did the amount of armor he wore. No doubt she had come prepared for that specification- anycreature that ventured towards the Whitescar and didn't consider the possibility of fighting heavily armored caribou was a foal of the highest and most criminal order- but the fact she could bring this match to the air intrigued and delighted her. His armor and weaponry were heavy. Very effective of course. A single thrust to her chest and she was going to wake up on a rocky slab with a gaggle of necromancy-gifted unicorn demanding payment. But for all of that- heavy. She would have a decisive advantage in speed and agility. And if she could bring this fight to the sky and allow for a full three hundred and sixty degrees of possible axi of attack, she could find the weak points (likely the joints) of his armor and end it when she was good and able.

He started to rhythmically bash the bottom of his halberd on the ground. That gave her time to prepare. She went down on a hoof and brought out her crossbow. Acroneighian crossbows were smaller than their counterparts in Maretonia and abroad, though not as cartoonishly different as some believed. They fired the same size bolt and were easier to reload, but it didn't have the same penetration over range or the same total range as others. That wasn't considered an important aspect of Acroneighi warfare, after all. And with the arena being the size it was she didn't doubt that the range she lost was an insignificant contribution at most. She finished just as he started flying towards her, putting the crossbow on her back. He moved fast considering his armor but he was still outclassed in that regard. She picked her pilium back up and pushed off into the sky, launching it immediately as she gained altitude down towards her

It was aimed at the large mass, no specific point on her foe's body. After all, she didn't expect it to do much. At her angle of attack the pilium flew past the shield which was a fraction too late but also missed the exposed wing, hitting instead the armored flank. The impact perhaps didn't do much damage but it did mess up his running motion, forcing him to the ground momentarily to recover. Good, the intended effect was achieved. Sky flew higher and threw the second pilium, cracking once more against his heavy armor- the large metallic cling was a sweet sound. Likely dented, almost guaranteed to hurt a bit and bruise but nothing that would help her immediately. Sky continued to fly, swift and fleet across the sky as she put distance between her and her opponent. Now it was going to be about keeping her foe centered and distance kept while she peppered him. She pulled out her crossbow and continued flying, preparing herself for the shot as the fight was moved to the sky.

She fired her crossbow and the bolt screamed across the sky, blowing through the inferior shield of her foe and pinning it against the armor around the shoulder, the rest of the shield breaking against his helmet. Lucky stallion- those bolts could penetrate his armor. Had it not been for that cruddy shield providing just the flimsiest additional piece of protection...maybe it would have gone through. In any case, the impact sent her foe tumbling and fumbling across the sky and Sky Crack took advantage. She blitzed across the open area to the cheers of the caribou, closing on her opponent with the fury that was her birthright. Back of the head- put the sword there. End it! That was the plan. But even though he was still discombobulated he was still aware enough to lash out at her, the halberd coming at a whisper's length from her before she held up. Out of position as she leapt back with a strong thrust of her wings (which would play havoc with the localized currents in her foe's area, hopefully) she lashed out at his helmet in a retreating strike. The gladius slashed across the almond eyes, the helmet absorbing the blow. But it was not necessarily good tidings for her foe- a sword cracking against the helmet was still bound to cause even more disorientation and damage. So far none of her strikes could be called dangerous, but it was still early.

Using her speed and litheness she continued to retreat, her foe disoriented enough to give her the space she needed. She put the gladius away and, while keeping her foe centered and keeping her distance, started to reload her crossbow. Fun times so far!

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Dinder sized up the opponent as he began his pre-battle posturing. It was definitely a pony, or at least something about the size of a pony. His opponent also seemed prepared for ranged combat, either his opponent was carrying several spears and a crossbow, or some of those pole arms were actually missiles. That didn't concern him too much, his plate-mail would definitely protect him from any incoming ranged attacks to the chest. So at least he wouldn't get killed on the spot from a bolt to the chest. But every small victory, Dunder would take.

He was expecting to get at least some sort of bonus out of a charge, but his opponent revealed at a choice moment their wings. As he charged his opponent fled into the air, making his stomach churn at the thought of frustratingly pursuing a faster opponent that would just kite him around. He wasn't prepared for that kind of fight. But that thought was put on a temporary hold as his opponent tossed some sort of missile at him, he felt the force of it as it drove past his face and wing, but smacked him in the flank. Harmless beyond the force knocking his legs off course and making him trip over himself. He still clenched the halberd tight in one hoof, quickly forcing himself up and grunting. For a moment he thought his opponent would let him get up and recover, but that thought was shattered when something heavy smashed into his back.

He felt his hooves dig deeper into the ground and his head swung low as the air in Dunder's lungs evacuated from the sheer force. The pegasus wheezed a moment before regaining his breath. Good... Dunder thought while his grimace switched to a grin, his head still low. This pony sure had a foreleg on them, but two of their heavier projectiles were gone and now he had to get on the offensive before he got pinned to the ground by crossbow bolts.

He looked up and pulled the shield off his back, his opponent a mere silhouette washed out by the sunlight of the cloudy sky. Now he was wishing for a higher quality shield rather than two planks pasted and leather bound together. Again he flapped his wings, slow and steady at first while he regained his flying instincts after being knocked down so violently.

Quickly he picked up speed, but even then he was stopped dead in his tracks. His shield shook violently and a dull thud! and a metallic shink! when the crossbow bolt cut through the shield and pierced his mail. He couldn't even feel the pain in his shoulder, he only felt the world tumbling while he lost control. His wings flapped furiously as he rolled in the air, and even in his disabled state his eyes could see the silhouette of the pony get bigger. Partially out of instinct and partially out of necessity, he grabbed the halbard tightly with both hooves as he desperately tried to ward off his pursuer.

It seemed to work, and somehow he managed to flap his wings in just the right way to end his tumbling. He looked back at where his opponent once was. And until now, the enemy pegasus was just a figure always too far to be seen. But now the enemy pegasus was close, ascending from the sky towards him and for a split second it was revealed that his opponent was indeed a she. For a moment he was lost in the sight of something more. Her magenta coat, blonde mane, and eyes as sharp as the sky on a sunny day. But that was ended quickly by a gladius to the jaw.

His head snapped to the side, the metal of the chainmail prevented his head from getting cut open, but it didn't stop his jaw from borderline breaking. This mare really did have a foreleg on her. His head recoiled back, cheek and jaw searing with pain. Pain that angered him after getting ruthlessly smacked by the sword.

His enemy retreated again, and she was reloading her crossbow. It was the time to strike! Close distance! Shock her and force her to fight on his terms! He felt his muscles tense up right before he zipped through the air, curving his trajectory so that he could end up below her. Mid air he shifted the halberd to his left-hoof and drew his longsword with his right-hoof. He flared out his wings to slow himself down, just enough so that he could toss the longsword into the air and grab it by the pommel. He leaned back and drew his foreleg to prepare for the throw. Just in time too, the blonde mare took aim at him but just a second too late. He threw the sword up at her, flying point first with a spin and headed straight for her. the pressure worked. She missed her shot and dodging the sword gave him enough time to close the distance yet again with an adrenaline-fueled power boost to the wings.

Mid charge he grabbed the halberd in both hooves, the two pink tails of his helmet wrap flapping violently behind him. She tried to pull back further, but his speed was unmatched as he swung the halberd out at her ribs, catching her by the armor with the bottom point of the axe head. His halberd now a hook, he pulled her closer and let himself become dead weight. For a moment she struggled to carry the weight, but he twisted the halberd to drive the point deeper into her armor, as well as block her wing flaps.

With her flying power mostly gone and the weight of a heavy pony, they descended for just long enough for Dunder to get the advantage he wanted. Suddenly, he rushed back up with a powerful flap of his wings. There they were face-to-face with the shaft of the halberd against her chest. He glared into her eyes for the moment their faces were so close while he got onto the same altitude so that he was no longer under her. He used the halberd shaft against her chest to shove her back with terrifying strength and wasted no time with a follow up strike.

To his right with an ascending blow, he aimed for her ribs again. But the metal head of the axe was stopped dead in its tracks by the round shield that she brandished. She responded to the blocked blow with a retaliation of her own, a gladius cut down onto his shoulder. With another strong flap of his wings, he got even closer, and with the shaft of the halberd parried the incoming strike. With his halberd already against the blade of her sword, he pulled the head back away from her shield and took another powerful flap of the wings to circle to her right while pushing the gladius away with the shaft. And from this position he leaned forward and drove the blunt end of his halberd against her nose with  all his weight. It made Dunder sad to harm such a pretty face, but his hoof was forced. Anyway the strike was nonlethal from that angle, at most she'd get a nose bleed like no other.

Now that she was regretting not bringing a helmet, he peeled away and did a loop in the air before diving back down to the ground. In his dive, he navigated himself towards his fallen shield which surprisingly survived the fall. He slowed himself down and flared his wings to slow himself down, but he still landed heavily on the ground next to his shield. Wasting no time, he picked up the shield and held the face towards where her enemy was. The biggest problem was that the shield left his hindlegs vulnerable. She managed to summon her crossbow again, reload it, and fire because he felt the crossbow bolt slam into his chainmail skirted around his hindlegs and break a few links. The head dug itself into his muscle, drawing a yell of pain from behind his shield.

But he still stood steadfast, peeking over the shield to hopefully be prepared for her next strike back.

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Sky Crack cursed herself under her breath as the chain of events that transpired revealed a bit of arrogance on her part. She was considerably faster and more agile than her opponent- why would he have a prayer of getting in close if she was more focused? She needed to move faster, use her innate advantages some more. That entailed being more cautious, which was something not entirely leaned on in Acroneighos, especially for the Scout Accompli. Radical aggression was the name of the game, but they were also used to preparing the area of combat to their liking. Acroneighos was famous for its engineering feats pre-battle as well as controlling the weather perfectly. You could scarcely dare to face a foe who orchestrated the very tides of the earth and sky to their whim long before their steel met yours. She had to do with a natural world and needed to discard her naturally aggressive nature and kowtow to the visceral demands of victory.

 

Because she did not do as was in her best interest and create space, she found herself in far closer combat than she would normally enjoy. The result was a slightly one-sided affair to her decided disadvantage. Her armor had been worked over well and she had been stallionhandled by the business end of his halberd, distance being his choosing. She had been able to stop a rib shot with her shield but a line of blood trickled out from from her nose. The blunt end of a halberd could still hurt but she quickly quarantined the sensation of pain away from her consciousness, her focus still on her foe. She had managed to make him pay a small price for his attacks with a gladius to the shoulder, but she had missed the cracking point of his armor. She had managed to get herself away from him, though she saw it was equal parts her swftness in struggling as it was his curious decision to go for to the ground. He had her in close combat- he had the advantage. At range, she had the advantage. She didn't bother giving it any thought, however, as she quickly created distance.

 

While flying she pulled her crossbow out and shot it, her foe's swiftness not being up to snuff. The bolt hit his hindleg, blowing through the armor and digging through into his body. At this range, an acroneighian crossbow could stand to penetrate his plate armor with a good hit. Something less than that? No real chance of stopping it. The shot was good, the impact would be felt as the battle continued. Every drop of blood he spilled, every tired muscle straining against wounding, was a victory for her. Sky quickly went about reloading her crossbow as she flew in the air around her opponent, keeping her distance all the while. She saw no need to give him an easy strike as she reformed herself, drawing the distance far enough to observe and find her target. He was a good fighter with some decent burst. Skilled and strong. Well armed. Fundamentally sound. But Sky was faster and had better endurance and just needed to wear her foe down. She just needed to commit.

 

As she flew around, he stood steadfast and hunkered down on the ground. Small droplets of blood from her nose were outdone by the growing maroon around her foe, her bolt having done considerable damage, but nonetheless he was steadfast. He shifted in place to keep his shield pointed at her no matter what direction she was at. This was a solid opponent who knew his strengths and weaknesses. In close combat he had seen he could take advantage of his strength and since both were skilled she could not count on outfighting him. He had devastating burst but aside from that burst he was not as fast or agile as her. He knew his strengths and she knew hers, and both would have to play to them to win. She could rely on her crossbow for a while as long as she could get a clean shot. His shield wasn't necessarily very effective, but it could slow down her bolt enough for the armor to stop it.

 

Sky flew around angling for a shot as he continued to shift. Time was on her side thanks to blood loss but every moment he sat there he caught his breath. Maybe that would be an advantage against most ponies but Sky Crack was hardly even warmed up yet! She could so this for hours. And for a few minutes at least she did. She changed her patterns of flight and movement, taking advantage of the sky and the near limitless axis of attack to create new opportunities for herself. Sometimes she thought she saw a chance but it was closed quickly. She continued- warfare was as much about grinding down your foe psychologically as it was physically, and he was bound to open himself up for another attack soon.

 

She tried to trick him, too. She tossed a few extra bolts as mini pilla at her foe, some of them landing with a solid thunk nearby or impacting against his shield and poking through to the other side to say hello. None of these bolts could seriously threaten her foe but if she could get him to hesitate just once then it would help. A few times she tried to draw him out with a feint, grabbing her hasta that was planted in the ground in the middle of a charge and bracing, only to stop far enough away and retreat. All it would take is one good bite. Just one. Her hasta always went back down into the ground as she fell back, each and every attempt looking more and more like a retreat. He didn't bite.

 

He didn't bite or fall for anything, but her pace of deception and movement was simply too much. Even if he could disregard every single movement and feint he could only process so much successfully. Analyzing and realizing something was a trick or that Sky was in one part of the combat area took a previous nanosecond or two and her pace of operations was simply too much. Her openings started to get closer and closer, his reactions getting closer and closer to being too little, too late. He was being grinded down physically and psychologically and after a full fifteen minutes of her moving about in such a manner she saw a clean shot and took it.

 

It hit home- in a fashion. Her shot was accurate and true and aimed at the weak point between his shoulder and his neck. If it hit fll force then the fight would be over. Even if he managed to survive he would be unable to fight. But the Gods of Combat did not grace her with a finishing blow. His reactions were quick and his shield nicked the bolt halfway and shattered it, slowing down the half that got through enough for it to only penetrate two inches. In order for her to sever the levator scapulae she needed deeper penetration. It was still a major blow and would likely have a negative impact on his operations, but he could still fight. And he showed that immediately.

 

He bellowed something in his native tongue and charged up like a bolt of lightning at the mare who was almost directly above him. His hindleg and shoulder had suffered some major wounds but he was still a brave stallion. Halberd in motion- just like last time. She learned. She dropped her crossbow and as he closed the distance it was Sky who leaped towards her foe, her gladius in hoof. He tried to react but she was operating on the side of his wounded shoulder. She didn't charge at him as much as she charged past him, missing both ends of the halberd as her Gladius quickly found a home in a thrust in the joint between his unwounded hindleg and his hock, gliding past and under him with blue-hot speed and intensity.

 

She finished below her foe who bellowed in terrible agony, catching the crossbow she had dropped before. She should have continued flying to gain distance, but thought perhaps he was finished and chanced a glance up. She was met by the image of a halberd being swung more on instinct and adrenaline than anything else. She barely had time to get her shield up in time and her reward for another stupid mistake was to feel it shatter all around her, tossing her a dozen feet sideways in the air. She regained her composure and flew normally, the tattered remnants of her horizontally displaced shield falling to the groun around her as she she shook her left foreleg about in order to feel it once more. It was numb- beyond numb, Perhaps something had broken or the impact of the attack had caused something to clot. She'd have to investigate further as it still worked. She started to reload her crossbow, flying away from her opponent with her view centered on him.

 

Time to continue the grind.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Dunder's heart thundered in his chest as sticky hot breath escaped his mouth. How could he let himself get injured? In the hindleg no less, mobility and movement were key in out performing his opponent up close. Now worry was beginning to seep into his stomach. She had him against the ropes, there was no doubt about that. Each feigned attack and each bolt that slammed against hard packed dirt of the arena ground made Dunder feel more vulnerable. Every charge he lost hope that his halberd point would keep this mare away, sooner or later she would see his weak state, take charge, and stomp all over him.

 

He kept his shield up though and kept his eyes locked on the mare. If he was going to be struck down, he was at least going to see it coming. But he could feel a small pain growing on his shoulder. He was almost too scared to examine the wound, but he turned and barely in his sight were a few broken chain links and a minor laceration. His armor did its job and the wound wouldn't be stopping him any time soon.

For a moment he almost forgot that he was in a fight, but the mare wouldn't let him. When he turned back he spotted her taking aim with that accursed crossbow. Instinctively he shot his foreleg in the vein hope to stop the bolt.

The feeling was like getting hooked and pulled by the neck. The force and surprise of it all pushed him down from his strong defensive stance. The pegasus fell to his rump, his wounded hindleg sprawled out on the ground behind him. The shield and halbard clanked against the ground as they were dropped. There he sat, watching the tail of the bolt stay put in his neck wherever he looked. The stallion sat there and waited for his vision to drain as he inevitably bled from his neck, but the light at the end of the tunnel never came.

The stallion reached a hoof up to his neck, and felt hardly any warm fluid. In fact he felt the back of the arrowhead not under his flesh. Relief washed over him. The pegasus scrambled back up to a standing position, ignoring the pain in his hindleg as the sharp arrow bolt tore against his flexing muscle. He resumed the stance he used to be in. His heart more steely now that he was given a second chance to fight back. But before he could fight back, he would need to purge his body of the impure.

Dunder dropped his halberd and gritted his teeth behind his shield. The pegasus wrapped a hoof around the bolt and helped the bolt along its path into the meat of his neck. Small grunts of pain escaped behind his teeth while pushed the shaft of the bolt towards him. Purge it! The stallion thought while ripping the bolt out of his neck. Carefully he slid the bolt along the inside of the chainmail and out the hole it made. His eyes were locked on her still as he dropped the bolt to the ground. Next the pegasus reached down. The adrenaline was pumping too hard now for him to even think of pain while he ripped the bolt out of his hindleg, letting the crimson fluid run down his leg and stain his coat.

He dropped one bloodied bolt on top of the other. Both meeting with a light wooden clap. He took a deep breath and picked the halberd back up, his eyes still on the mare. With a loud cry he lifted his hindleg and brought all his weight and strength down on them, crushing them. Under his hoof he dragged them along the dirt and pushed them away. Another puff of hot air out his nostrils, another war cry and he was ready. "¡No pasarán!" He blared out as loud as he could before flying off after her, launching into the air with his new found energy.

The push was stopped dead in its tracks when her sword met his bone. The pegasus gulped and closed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain to flood his mind. The pain didn't keep him waiting and oh it was a terrible pain. He couldn't hold back a yell of agony, the searing pain could have burned a hole right through him.

The pain wouldn't put him out of the fight, but it did add fuel to his retaliation, a strike strong enough to crack her shield in half and render it useless. Again she flew away... Just the sight of her retreating made his blood boil. Again, he took off after her and he planned to take her out of the sky where she thrived.

His halbard swung again as he flew. Of course she pulled back, but that is where he wanted her to be. The axe of his halbard hooked her, this time the axe point reaching under her armored skirt to hook her through the buttock muscle rending that leg useless to trot on. She reached for her gladius, but with all his strength in his wings and forelegs he pulled his opponent towards him. his body against hers trapped her foreleg that was about to draw the gladius as the steel under the pink head wraps smashed into her nose, disorientating her just long enough for Dunder to grab onto her. One foreleg he wrapped under the base of her wing, stopping the flaps and holding it still long enough for his other foreleg to wrap over the wing.

With disturbing ease he ripped both his hooves apart, snapping her wing like a twig in two places. the halbard unhooked itself from her as she let out her own scream of pain. Dunder grinned as he heard it and shoved her away, flapping his wings and watching her fall like a sack of potatoes. Fortunately for her, she was close to the ground already. Unfortunately for her, Dunder would give her no chance to recover. He swooped down as she staggered to her hooves. Mid flight he caught his target and drew his curved blade. As he glided past her he held out the sword and it caught her, cutting through the muscle of her non-dominant shoulder through the light armor. With enough force to knock her on her rump.

Dunder used this time to swoop back down and retrieve the halberd. Softly he landed and picked it up, not even bothering to put any weight on his wounded joint. Instead he held the halberd against the ground andrested his weight on it using the polearm as a more grisly walking cane. The pegasus turned and faced the mare. Scimitar in one hoof, halbard in the other. He was bloodied and beaten, but now the fighting was on his terms. She could try to reteive and reload her crossbow, but his wings still worked, and she could try a more direct approach, but even in his battered state he was still able to resist and bite back.

Dunder locked eyes with his opponent, waiting for her to make her move.

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His accursed halberd once again gave him that edge in combat and this time he committed serious, deadly harm against her. At the end of their short dance she limped away with a broken wing and her flank cut to ribbons. The wings slipped in some dull sensations that would be teeth grating had it not been for the sheer overwhelming rivulets of pain that overwhelmed her as she felt her backside open up to the world in a bloody and unflattering way. For a brief moment in time she was given over to the pain and in that moment he had been able to rip her wing nearly in twain. Shockingly enough it was this secondary attack which brought her back, even as she tumbled to the ground in agony. He had then managed to cut deep into her shoulder. This blow was not as terrible for her as it could have been. The curved blade of his scimitar would not have penetrated at all in most cases, but the constant movement had allowed weak links to cover it. The cut was maybe a half-inch deep. Painful but not debilitating.

 

The situation was not goof for either. His wounds were deep and harmful. She had removed a tendon between his joint and a hock- he would be bleeding terribly. The deep bolt penetration into his hindleg was a brutally painful one and another serious point of blood loss. Individually they were match winners in the long haul. As a pair they gave him limited time, but now Sky Crack joined him. Her shoulder injury wasn't a grave concern- it hurt and she bled but the pain could be cautioned against mentally. The flank wound was the most serious wound any of them had suffered. She couldn't tell but she could feel the air sting against her deep. The wound could only get worse. Her broken wing was already dulling itself but she could feel the ichor of life dripping away from it. If she was going to win due to blood loss it would no longer a condition she was in the lead with.

 

His position was slightly stronger now. She was grounded- but wait, he brought out both weapons? She didn't betray her good fortune through her grimacing expression, but this was truly a gift. As long as he had a shield out he had a chance of surviving her crossbow. Now what could he do but die if she fired? She started hopping back on her one good hindleg, limping but keeping her eyes focused on her foe centered front on front as she started to reload her crossbow, ignoring the pain in her left shoulder as she did so. Her foe looked for a second in confusion- maybe the blood loss or her earlier knock against his skull gave her a precious second or two- before he leapt at her as she backed herself up against the hasta she had planted.

 

Once again, using her good leg, she leapt at him and dropped her crossbow before he could get within range. She felt his halberd's axe point come within milimeters of slamming into her head. She turned and grabbed the halberd, back to her foe as his already launched scimitar strike brushed against her chainmail easelessly. Using this torque, Sky Crack hip-tossed her foe through a scream of pain, Dunder landing on his back as she continued to torque and pull the halberd from his grasp, stumbling away as she did so. She held it low and then leapt up a foot or two, landing back down on the halberd and snapping it in half through several grunts. She looked back and found her foe was already giving flight, prepared to use his mobility advantage now. Good for him. She'd use her firepower advantage. How this battle had shifted.

 

She returned back to where her crossbow lay, panting through the pain. This was her last bolt. Well, technically there were useable bolts across the whole field but this was the terminal point in the combat. Up against her hasta, she tracked her foe in the air. He was flying in circles and then randomized patterns. Smart, but he was not capable of doing this for long. He was in no better shape than she and every moment he exerted himself was a moment closer to a black out in the sky. After a short while his flying became less unpredictable. During one of his turns towards her- whether to fake a charge due to habit or simply to get a better peek at what she was up to- Sky fired. The bolt blew through the air towards her surprised target who turned about in mid-air in an attempt to escape. To a certain extent Dunder's mesmerizing reaction time kept him alive. The bolt hit him in profile, slicing through one wing and through the other with devilish ease. His wings no longer operable, Dunder fell out of the sky towards Sky in a pile of blood, wings, and agony.

 

She limped out of the way a moment before Dunder impaled himself at full speed on her hasta, much of the length going through her foe. The hasta broke in three quarters length inside of him and he tumbled in a ball of death several feet away, the sound of his bones cracking and breaking in multitudes loud as a single shriek of pain was followed up by the sweet sound of momentary consciousness. Sky Crack approached her opponent carefully. His scimitar had trickled across the ground many feet away. She could see his legs bent, wings shattered, the hasta impaled from his rear to his throat. And yet his eyes fluttered open in unbearable agony. He was passing but it was anything but painless. Sky knelt down and put an end to Dunder, a swift slice of her Gladius across the shattered chainmail around his neck ending her foe.

 

A few moments later a team of medical unicorns trotted out, eyeing both competitors up deliciously. They would both walk away from this. Such was the brilliance of necromancy! But no matter what, only one thing was certain. Sky lifted her gladius up in the air with her good shoulder and bellowed, “níki̱ gia Acroneighos!” before falling down to her knees. She had been victorious!

 

 

Three months later, 53 miles north-northeast of Saarvergerg

The Taininberg Forest, Night

 

Sky Lord had been with Jarl Fire Watch only three weeks but already she found herself part of his inner circle. Granted, his inner circle was shifting ever since those damnable Acroneighos pegasi had started to track him. That had made her inclusion extra suspicious at first, but one or two battles against rival clans in the north was all it took to secure his respect. Getting dressed in the usual caribou finery was unusual but nothing mattered until this day. Sky Lord had done everything in her power to make today happen and would be more than happy to go back to being known as Sky Crack. Fake names were never her bag of tea.

 

The Jarl, as expected, had been there that day at the arena. He was impressed with her performance and hired her on and had worked her way up rather quickly. Her skills were a perfect counter balance to his forces- on the mainland they were almost entirely caribou, which made his strategy all the more abhorrent. Hire foreigners to do his dirty work abroad and leave them to die? That had been her initial fate, it seemed. That was until his clan had gotten its rear kicked by Clan Ogira. He was called by the clan chieftain to go correct that misfortune and she offered herself up as a possible candidate for leadership, citing her 'rebellious activities' in Maretonia. She was given leadership of a small force and managed to attack the rear of Clan Ogira at night, routing them into the Jarl's forces who were just about to make camp. After their decisive victory she had been given control over a larger detachment, much to the chagrin of many a loyal caribou. To further prove her worth, she offered to lead them through the darkest forest of th north to assail the rear of one of Clan Askr's traditional allies, Clan Vaardekar.

 

What a fool he had been to trust this pony. He prized effectiveness and he had a certain love affair with those who could stick a boot firmly in the rears of his lessers through force of will and skill alone and Sky Lord had done so since her first minute. Now as the last day of her service came to an end as it often did- right before dawn as the most trusted and elite of the guard turned in after a night of hard work skirmishing against the Vaardekar to the west and north- she had to bite her lip to stop herself from giggling. This spot down to the last quarter mile had been chosen months ago by the Tenth Pegtasi for an ambush. The harsh and hard ground had been thawed and turned to mud and a series of increasingly violent storms were ravaging the area. The few pegasi that Fire Watch had who were capable of dealing with the weather managed to vanish inside. Some were suspicious but the most chalked it up to the terrible weather of the Whitescar playing the fates. Little did they know it was they who were being played.

 

In the skies above hidden by ceaseless storms and in the woods around them the ambush was being put into place. By now Sky Lord knew that the whole camp was surrounded one way or another. The Vaar had been brought in easily enough. Being informed that one of their ancient enemies was contracting “honest caribou work” out to foreigners and leaving them to die was bad enough, but knowing that they were going to be at a certain place by a certain time was even better. Sky Lord had fudged the scouts' findings to hide the fact that they knew that the Vaardekaran forces were in large numbers not far away. Larger than expected? Sure, but Fire Watch didn't know that the Vaardekaran outnumbered the Jarl's forces at least twice over with change. But Sky Lord did make sure that all the battlements and other defensive structures as well as elite ground forces were up front. Let the body of the caribou fight it out while the Tenth cut the head and the heart out. The Tenth was smaller than ay force but they would hit fast, they would hit hard, and they would hit smart. They had it planned down to the last minute.

 

Which was why she looked up as the storm broke for the first time in days. She started hovering an inch off the ground even as her still healing wings cried out. She continued looking. A few blinks skywards as the two guards outside of the command tent with her looked up with her, puzzled more than anything by her moves. Silence...and then the clouds didn't just move, they were pushed out of the way to reveal six Acroneighos combat ships. A second didn't pass before each vessel fired multiple lance-like flame projectiles. Just as the ships revealed themselves Sky Crack swung her caribou longsword in a practiced arc and removed one of the guards from the mortal coil before running in the other before he could unsheathe his weapon. The two dropped at roughly the same time as the lances hit the large tents that marked the communal sleeping centers of the caribou forces- they were cratered within moments. From the south, east, and up above, squadrons of the Tenth Pegtasi charged in heavy mobile phalanxes towards their stunned foes while small mobile aerial ballistas racked the ground as any organized group of caribou were thinned out. The heavy bellow of a Caribou charge were heard up front- the Vaadekaran were making their move.

 

She had her own job to do, however. She dropped the longsword and instead pulled out her gladius- the Jarl and his personal guard inside the tent would face cold Acroneighos steel, and with it, true justice. She casually brushed aside the flaps to the command tent and did not leave it for a full minute. The camp as a whole was in flame as the Tenth Pegtasi moved with lightning quick speed and merciless precision, skewering caribou where they were found and no matter their condition. No mercy was shown and no escape possible- those that tried to flee had to run through muddy ground. They were tired and encumbered while the Tenth was fresh and lightning quick. Archers, hoplites, the Scout Accompli, ballistas and the fleet above all laid into the mostly asleep caribou army as the Vaadekaran crashed through the front in a bloody tide. Sky Crack finally left the tent, wiping off the blood on her gladius with as much casual energy as she had entered the command tent with, taking a deep breath of the sulfur filled air. A titanic explosion rocked the area as one of the lances found it, sending a section of the camp to the ground and flattening much of it. Sky Crack braced for the shockwave and held her ground against it- a few moments later, one of the pieces of the cache landed in front of her on fire.

 

Sky immediately grabbed the flag of Fire Watch- the former Jarl, now nothing more than a bag of poor ideas- and his clan and broke it off of the command tent. She tossed it into the blaze and watched with a smile as the symbolism of this doomed Clan went to flames in front of her. This was true justice. Let the word go out to all corners of the planet, being sung from the most low places to the most high, inglorious and glorious alike: The reach of Acroneighos was long and so was her memory. Let this action burn in the memory of all caribou the price of playing petty games with the most glorious city in all of the Six Nations. It was a little disappointing though. The Jarl and his four guards inside the tent had been relatively easy pickings for her. As a mare who sought the chance to push herself this seemed...lesser.

 

Who would have thought that the toughest fight she would have in the Whitescar was with another pegasus?

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Dunder could feel the power waning, strength leaving his now wary muscles and bones. He used the halberd as a crutch as he tried to regain his breath, hunched and breathing deep and heavy. The air stung his tired lungs, and the pain that riddled his body was taking its toll. Truly, anything that he was to do beyond this point would be difficult. But at least the battle was on his side now. As long as she couldn't retreat faster than he could pursue, the battle would be on his side. For now, though, she was already back to the crossbow. It was impressive that she'd be able to ready the machine for firing even in her own battered state.
 

Just once more.... Dunder thought as he eyes her from across the battlefield. He took a deep breath and began hobbling towards her, both wings flared out, but only one wing flapping so that he could trot closer to her. His pace was slow and steady, his head down but his eyes still watching, waiting, calculating for the right moment. He could see it coming closer, she was sure this would be the end as she raised and leveled the crossbow to fire. The reason why his wings were erect was going to show now and Dunder could only pray it would work.

Just before firing the crossbow, Dunder let out a single powerful flap of his wings as he lunged forward. The bolt streamed through the air as Dunder brought his hindquarters up and parellel to the ground with the rest of his body. At the apex of his wing-assisted jump the bolt collided with his armor, but at that angle, the bolt harmlessly was reflected off with a satisfying ping!

After the bolt was deflected, Dunder brought his hind legs back down and carefully landed on his better hindleg. His wing kept flapping so that he could continue the hobble to close distance with the mare. He was close enough now. She knew she couldn't reload the crossbow, and she knew she couldn't retreat.

This was it, Dunder had the advantage and not a lot of time. Now he had to end it. This was it!

He dropped the halberd where he stood and raised the scimitar, keeping a stance as best he could with his bad hindleg. Again he locked eyes with his opponent. The tension was so thick he'd have trouble cutting through it.

The stallion approached the mare, and she showed no fear, raising her gladius. This mare truly was more than just an average soldier. He held his sword in front of him and she held her sword in front of her. They each waited for the other to make a move, or she was just wasting as much time as possible and waiting for the blood loss to take its toll. Either way, Dunder had to make a move first, as much as it was a risky move. But he hopped on his leg, leaking blood slowly as he went to make a flanking maneuver. A downward strike he cast onto her, hoping to hit her already wounded and bleeding shoulder. She responded with a parry by smacking his sword aside, opening him up to attack. She lunged forward, making a stab for his stomach, but he rasied his hoof and smacked the broad end of the gladius blade away with the chainmail sleeves of his armor. The stallion rasied the scimitar back up and then hacked down on her hoof holding the gladius.

She screamed in pain while bone shattered and hoof fragments broke off. Dunder tossed the scimitar aside and flew into her, pushing her over and him on top of her. The stallion grabbed her by the barding and stared into her eyes before he took a deep breath and lifted her up by the barding, grabbed her head with one hoof and slammed the back of her head into the ground to disorient her. Tightly he gripped around her barding again as he brought her head up to his, "By the way, I love gyros." He said to her while eying her down again. He released one hoof and brought the other behind his head and slammed it into the side of her muzzle. Again he did this, and on the third punch he let her go, falling to the ground.

For a moment he rested on top of her, panting heavily, grimacing in pain as the adrenaline finally thinned. He groaned as he used his less wounded leg and wings to lift himself off of her. Now his hobbling was much worse, and his condition was solidified when he collapsed to the ground and let out a few coughs.

Behind him, though, the mare lifted herself up like a corpse returning from the dead. She slowly and quietly pulled herself to a crouch where she recovered the gladius in her non-wouned hoof. She got on her hindlegs again as Dunder crept towards the halberd that rested on the ground. He hadn't looked back yet, but he could feel it, sense the presence behind him. She was now over him, and in her position she would strike him down if not for one thing.

She let out her war-cry and simultaneously, Dunder gripped the halberd by the head, spun around lunged the spearpoint out to stab her right in the midsection, puncturing deep enough to skewer the diaphragm. The color from her face dropped as well as the fearsome cry of battle. Dunder gritted his teeth, but this time he looked more grave as he carried out his deed, a truly terrible one at that.

As she was properly skewed he would need to make sure she stayed out of the fight. He used his wings as the base of the halberd stuck into the ground. Dunder used the last bit of his strength to hoist the mare up on the halberd like some sort of example in war. She let out another terrible cry of pain, and a few more whimpers and gasped breaths as she struggled against the steel that rested in her chest. With almost all of his strength gone, Dunder raised himself , using both hindlegs, both pumping blood out of their wounds as he rasied his hoof into the air and cried out, "¡PATRIAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! ¡MÉXICOLT!" He cried out, his voice shattering the awe of the crowd.

And with that final hoorah, the stallion collapsed to the ground, blood loss and fatigue taking him over. He saw the unicorns rushing to the aid of the combatants and that was the last he saw...

~~~~
A few hours later....
In the belly of the arena's tunnels...

Dunder's eyes shot open only to see a dimly lit room. He took a deep breath and sat up in surprise and panic. His heart was thundering in his head and he was sweating. The stallion had to take a few minutes to calm himself down from his terrified state. Must have been the dark magic... He thought while thinking of those necromancers that no doubt saved his own and his opponent's life.

After a few more minutes he shakily stood up from the stone bed covered in some sort of hide. The pegasus could feel the places where he was previously wounded, and the new flesh inside of him felt raw and numb. A terrible feeling, he looked like a foal taking his first steps while he shambled towards his equipment resting on a pile on the floor by the exit.

The necromancers demanded their pay, and he paid them generously. His quiet escape was stopped though when a large caribou flanked by two others introduced himself...

"Greetings, pony. A magnificent display of brutal power in the ring against that... Acroneighos pony." He had a thick accent, but Dunder could still understand him. In response, Dunder just nodded. The caribou was expecting more, but he smiled at him, "My name is Jarl Fire Watch. And your display of swordsmanship foreign to this land has captured my eye. I would be honored if you would join me and aid my clan in our ascent to glory."

Dunder thought for a moment, his eyes were sagged and showed his fatigued state. Slowly and careful not to fall over, Dunder bowed to the Jarl to the Jarl's delight. "Sorry, Jarl Fire Watch." Dunder spoke slowly and carefully, "I am not for hire right now, and I hope you understand but I cannot accept your flattering offer." the pegasus rose back up and looked up at the caribou. "I'm sure my opponent would be more than happy to fight for you, she is a fearsome warrior, and just as foreign as me. You will not be disappointed. Forgive me." And with that, Dunder turned and trotted off. Unknowingly he helped his opponent, and one of the toughest fights of his life, Sky Crack keep her mission on track. Her plans would still come to fruition as she accepted the Jarl's offer, gained his trust, and crushed him under the mighty Acroneighos hoof.

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