The Burning of Arkangelsk

It was a cold spring night in the countryside of Arkangelsk. A trio of ponies are huddled up in a UAZ, driving down the road, on it's way to Castlevania. They laugh, equally done with the nonsense that came with conscription. Equally ready for their time in service to be over so they could move on to better things. The scent of hot cocoa lingers from the back seat, with big marshmallows dunked inside for added sweetness. Maybe conscription wasn't entirely bad. You could goof of in a van with your friends and drink hot chocolate all night. And be paid for it!

The roof caves in suddenly and the van comes to a sudden halt, the driver cursing loudly as the trio looks at the damage. There's a moment of silence as they all wonder what just happened. Deafening unfire. Perforations in the roof. Blood. Hot chocolate. Silence.

The UAZ rocks as the large figure who landed on it hops onto the ground. More like him emerge from the woodworks, aiming their rifles carefully in the moonlight and gazing through their night vision. The apparent leader reloads his rifle, looking back on the carnage he had created and starts giving directions to his subordinates. "Valignat coi. Jaseve thric quilins di udoka."

The group start picking up bullet casing and pushing the van off the road into a tree. The leader lights a cigarette, just as one of the others breathes a cone of fire over the van, setting it ablaze. "Yth tepoha tawura ekess tir."

THAT MORNING

The fire brigade had just finished putting out the forest fire. Police and medical personnel were on scene, awaiting the arrival of their Prince, Salem to arrive. Soon enough, his personal vehicle arrived. The fire marshal walks up to greet them. "Good morning, my lord." He says with a soot stained face.

The vehicle the Prince arrived in was hardly the one most would expect. A Ural Typhoon inelegantly tearing through the brush as a “shortcut” before trundling to a stop mere feet from the police perimeter. A heavy built stallion in full combat gear, bearing the insignia of the Runecrown Guard, climbed out of the passenger side and moved around to the back to open the door for the Prince and his entourage of a “mere” thirteen other guards and a pair of mercenaries that were keeping him company, ushering them out and leaving only a single Guard in the driver’s seat and another scooting into the now empty passenger seat while the rest of the platoon spread out around their Prince. Admittedly they seemed to be quite laid back given the situation (at least as much as a personal bodyguard can be), presumably due to lack of any obvious danger to their charge.

Salem, however, was anything but laid back as he stepped out of the Typhoon. His eyes were already set on the blaze and he hadn’t even bothered to remind the Marshal that he was to be addressed as “your highness” and not “my Lord”. No, this seemed far too strange for him to care about such formalities, and his suspicion showed in how tense he looked.
“Yes, yes, good day,” He replied hurriedly, obviously eager to get to the point, “can’t say I remember the last forest fire we had, Marshal.” He remarked, gesturing vaguely at the blaze, “I trust arson hasn’t been ruled out?” It was the logical conclusion. Either that or some sort of accident that spiralled horribly out of control. The forests of Arkangelsk were often just too cold and wet for such a blaze to just happen all that often, after all.

Being a mercenary often led to loyalties going to and fro. It was anyone's guess what the short but rather stocky unicorn stallion in full combat gear was truly thinking working for the new rule of the land as he carried a rather cumbersome looking weapon's pack on his back in service of the Prince, his own Weiger aimed low and finger solidly resting upon the length of the rifle in his arms as he remained close to Salem at all times. Even upon the fire Marshal, he kept a focused gaze in case this one made any threatening moves.

One thing he readily contributed with his magic was to create a pocket of filtering air around him, the Prince, and their other mercenary companion as to prevent any distractions from the lingering smoke and ash to composure and visibility. He was quiet for the time being, content to act as a pack mule and aide to Salem... Maybe at some point he could share his motivations and feelings on his being there...

Being a mercenary often meant different things, depending on who you asked. For the lithe unicorn mare who stepped out of the big fuckoff truck, it meant seeing many interesting things that typical militaries either miss out on or overlook. Of course, this was certainly not the first time she’d worked with Salem, but she’d come to appreciate the quirks. Not having Midnight around to weird things up helped.

She raised her eyebrow at the magic effects of the other stallion with her, before shrugging to herself. Magic wasn’t her forte, but she had other ways to be effective, and the rifle in her hands was certainly one of them. Looking cute was another, but that wasn’t needed here. Hopefully.

The manner in which Salem had arrived caused a bit of a stir, of course most were just assured that it was Prince Salem being... Well... Prince Salem. The Marshal gestured for Salem to follow and began to lead him down to the scene of the fire's origin point. "Unfortunately it has, your highness." He says solemnly. "Seems a patrol got run off the road and smashed into a tree up ahead. Whole thing caught ablaze. Three poor souls lost in it." He shakes his head and wipes a bit of sweat from his brow. The smell of smoke was still heavy in the air and their was still a faint heat from charred trees and embers.

"There's something else though. And the police chief is in agreement. Something's off about the vehicle." And upon arrival, Salem might see exactly what was wrong. The roof, which should have been flat and flush, was caved well into cabin, and had been riddled with holes. Aside from that, the whole thing was charred black. The interior was completely burned and melted away, and three burned corpses sat inside, unidentifiable from visual inspection.

Seemingly unfazed by the heat (in part due to Sugary’s magic helping him along) Salem strode towards the burnt out wreck, his eyes already scanning the remains with a careful eye as he took in what the marshal had to say. “‘Off’ is the understatement of the century. Now, let’s see....”

He couldn’t help but frown at the trio of burnt corpses in the van which he recognised as one of the old 452s, only really given to conscripts that no one trusted with real vehicles... and weren’t expected to see much real trouble. Unfortunate, to be sure, but their attackers had, ironically left more than enough for the Prince to work with. “The fire damage here and... well,” Salem simply gestured at the devastation all around, “Dragonfire, to be sure, but a dragon would have left us a flattened van,” stepping into the 452 and over what remained of the burnt but very much present supplies in the back, Salem looked up through one of the many bullet holes in the ceiling and scowled, “and they don’t carry, I assume, assault rifles. Someone thought they’d done a better job covering this up with fire.” His scowl turned into a rather grim, crooked grin, “all they did was narrow down the list of suspects. Call it in.” He said to the Marshal before hopping back out of the van, the charred forest floor crunching beneath him.

While Salem’s pace hadn’t quickened he nonetheless carried himself with more purpose than he had seconds before, calling out to the guards in the Typhoon to report what he’d gleamed from the scene and for the others to keep a sharp eye out on the trees and the skies before looking to the mercs he had with him. “Seems we have some very... eager, and uninvited , guests about. Jade, go keep an eye out from the top of the Typhoon. I want our way out secure if we get any surprises while Sugary, a couple guards, and I... actually how good are you at finding trails? I don’t recall that coming up.” He asked, giving the shorter stallion a curious look.

Sugary's ear flickered a bit, and upon being asked about it he kneeled while drawing his Python with one hand, aiming it more in the general direction of where he assumed Salem intended to be going while the other hand touched the ground and magic hummed. "... I shall try to highlight soil that's been pressed down recently, Sir." There was a mild rumbling beneath hooves and feet as the mercenary sent out a pulse through the ground as a broad radius. It might not give the most accurate readings if woodland critters had been up and about, and fallen trees muddled some of the paths, but the soil would soon reveal with a pinkish hue where imprints had been... It was up to Salem to identify the correct ones if they were to be found.

Salem didn’t do much more than blink as the magic pulsed through the ground, nodding after a brief pause. “Why I think that will do quite nicely.” He replied, his eyes once again scanning around his immediate area. He had a rough what he was looking for but he admittedly hoped the evidence or a proper trail, if it existed, was close enough he wouldn’t have to move.

Jade smiled and nodded. “Right away.” She said, climbing up to the roof of the Typhoon. She made herself comfortable as she set up a vantage point. After slightly adjusting the scope on her rifle, she began to observe the area, waiting for trouble but hoping there will be none.

The fire marshal nodded and went about getting with one of the police officers and having them use their radio. Meanwhile. Sugary's spell would reveal a great many overlapping shoe and boot prints, likely from all the activity involving the van fire. Salem would not be able to glean any useful information from them as they were in this location. Jade, from her position on top of the Typhoon would be able to see well into the distance, as they were located near the peak of a hill. Clearly could be seen the city of Castlevania to their south, as quiet as it had ever been for the moment. "Hello? Hello?! There's nothing but static. You sure that's the right channel?" A police officer chides his companion as they work on trying to communicate with their dispatcher.

It is seen before it is heard. A flash of fire and a plume of smoke, rising up into the sky. The sound of the explosion hits them with a soft thud, accompanied by the sound of gunfire. The alarm sounds just as large aircraft break through the clouds. C17's flying in formation.

The ramp drops. The first in line adjusts his helmet, making sure it's fit securely. He stares at the red light on the hull, waiting anxiously. It flashes to green. He practically sprints to the exit, leaping off the edge of the ramp, clutching his rifle in his hands despite it being secured to him by a sling.

Salem and Co. would witness the bodies, noticeable only as black dots in the sky from this distance, falling from the rear of the planes, wings opening on their backs to slow their descent and guide them to their targets in and around the city. There were dozens of such planes, now passing overhead as the group were helpless to stop them. Fighter jets quickly pass over at a much lower altitude, one of them releasing a barrage of cannon fire at an unknown target while rockets hissed past coming from the opposite direction.

Salem sighed as it quickly became clear any trail that was here may as well not exist with the amount of traffic that had been in the area since. He didn’t even have to move to know that. “Oh well, it was worth a try. You can stop now.” He said to Sugary before turning away to see the two cops messing with the radio. Admittedly even in this suspicious situation Salem saw little reason to worry about some minor radio troubles in a forest. “Hmmm, maybe I could just get a telepath on that instea—“

The sound of the explosions and flashing light left Salem turning every which way to find the source only to find his eyes locked on the sky, ears drooping as the C 17s loomed over them like oversized, corpulent carrion birds coming to circle the newest carcass. He barely registered that one of his guards was about to almost immediately be on him, tackling the unicorn to the ground and barking orders as the rest of the platoon scattered into the burnt out trees on either side of the road, even the Typhoon reversing into some of the brush it had ploughed through on the way here.

Meanwhile in Castlevania, despite the chaos of the surprise attack, the organisation of those troops not currently under attack themselves would be swift as anyone could hope for, even the masses of conscripts wouldn’t need long with a little help from their more experienced peers and regular troops. The problem for Salem, however, was how he was stuck in the forest, helpless to do much for now besides watch the carnage play out from a distance. Once again he was powerless to help...

From the sudden investigation to combat beginning around them, Sugary was quick to revert weaponry as his horn kept flashing to form a low barrier and floating sheets of water mainly upon the immediate area that Salem and himself were in, while spreading it as far as he could in positions were shrapnel was likely. Though he seemed to keep much to himself, seeing Salem just stuck on the ground while firing went off and feeling their morale slip, he yelled over to him through the firing. "Sir! What are your orders here!?" He was confident that even in such a vulnerable position, the Prince should be able to lead.

If Jade wasn’t already low to the roof of the Typhoon, she would have been thrown off balance by the vehicle’s sudden movements. As she was, she was merely disoriented momentarily. Reorienting herself, Jade aimed her scope towards the descending figures. It was a bit of a long shot, and from this distance she couldn’t make them out all that well, but she could very probably hit them from here. “Permission to fire, or should I hold back?” She asked Salem.

Over the sounds of everyone rushing about Salem had a hard time hearing what anyone was saying from the ground but nonetheless he caught what Jade was saying so he called out. “Hold your fire unless they start heading this way, Jade!”

Of all the jets to fly over, of course one would have to stick around. The roar of the engine closes in, coming into view only a few dozen feet above them, the jet approaches slowly, rear engine pointed downwards and center turbine putting out air as well. Salem would recognize the sophisticated F-35 well, as the pilot observed them all from the cockpit. He doesn't linger too long, speeding off back in the direction of Castlevania.

"Irlym dasost!" Comes a yell from the unburnt woods. The group might see shadows moving in the trees before a voice shouts in Equestrian. "Surrender now, or be fired upon!" It was clearly not their first language.

While the emergency services around them were simply trying to keep their bearings and get organised the Runecrown Guard were far more composed, already searching for positions behind those rare trees that would provide more than simple concealment and trying to get a half decent line of sight on the rest of their apparent assailants. All this took a few mere seconds and without a word being said (at least not verbally, anyway).

Salem found the grip of the hand that had been holding him down loosening, he looked up to see the guard wordlessly gesture at the burnt our UAZ they’d come to see, probably the best source of concealment and/or for him, Salem, and Sugary that was nearby. The signal for them to move probably didn’t have to be stated, it quickly became clear as the voice from the trees helpfully said ‘fire’.

THUMP!

THUMP!

Poking out from behind their trees of choice, two of the guards sent a pair of 40mm grenades flying in the direction of both the voices and the shadows they’d seen moving, swiftly followed by a hail of machine gun fire, all with the intention of flushing their shadowy attackers out into the open and straight into the sight of the rest of their platoon.

Salem quickly took the opportunity that was given to him, both the Prince and the guard immediately making a break for the burnt out wreckage to get out of the open and, hopefully, direct everyone else from a somewhat safer position.

"IXEN! IXEN! IXEN!"

The return of automatic gunfire was immediate and indiscriminate. The first to go down were those who hadn't been quick enough to seek cover, several of the policemen and firefighters. A sizable force then started moving around the group's right flank, towards the Typhoon.

The hailfire through the bushery lended to regrettable results, but as his leader was making a tactical maneuver into a different location, he would focus a barrier solely between Salem and the enemy fire as he sent out all the water that had been conjured to flow through the woods as he hurriedly backtracked with his gear while removing the safety of his Weiger in the hopes of dampening some rifles and reducing incoming fire along with the grenades tossed.

Jade’s ear flicked at the foreign and obviously hostile voices coming from the trees, and she ducked down even further to avoid drawing attention. Did this count as approaching? She wouldn’t have time to answer that however as the guards answered it for her, and chaos ensued. She recognized the language they spoke though, even if she was rusty. When she spotted the figures moving around towards her position, she muttered quietly to herself. “Ixen? If you say so...” And with rapid precision, she began to fire at the approaching figures.

Those that had fired back were forest to be targeted, their sprays of automatic fire being met with short, controlled, but deadly accurate bursts of rifle from the guards to take the assailants down accompanied by:

THUMP!

Another grenade fired, but this one was a flashbang fired right into the trees where the bulk of the fire was coming from. There was a moment where it seemed like that might be it when...

THUMP!

The other launcher was fired, sending a second frag flying straight towards the group trying to flank the Typhoon. The RPK opened on them too, seeking to cut down the flanking force as they scattered to escape the blast and keep them suppressed long enough for the pair inside the Typhoon to disembark and start taking out the stragglers with their P-90s from behind their vehicle.

Meanwhile, instead of taking shelter in the burnt out UAZ, Salem peeled off at the last second and headed for the nearest cop or firefighter that had been taken down and started dragging them towards the ambulances before moving on to do the same with the rest. He was (at least openly) unarmed anyway and didn’t look like a soldier so surely no one would be so cold as to fire at someone aiding wounded emergency services, right? If these Draconic speaking assholes were, though... well, time to put those dodging skills

The firefight would pause with Sugary's hydraulic assault, which had managed to knock many of their assailants over, causing them to scramble for cover again. "Hewa! Hewa persvek wer nif!" Sugary would find an excess of bullets coming in his direction as soon as the enemy soldiers could right themselves.

Jade would manage to snipe a few soldiers herself, causing them to halt their advance and try to help their wounded.

Salem, surely to his great pleasure would not be fire on yet, nor any of the others who were at this moment unarmed. It would appear they had no intention to kill the unarmed personnel. At least in this moment.

The sudden roar of an engine would introduce itself, as an enormous vehicle came forth from the trees, stopping just past the treeline, the large gun on the top turning towards the Typhoon and the letting loose in a hail of armor piercing machinegun fire, riddling it with holes and igniting the interior.

The police chief runs to Salem and grabs his arm, pulling his superior to safety as more enemy soldiers start to pour out the back of the enemy vehicle. "Sir! Sir we have to leave, now!"