"A few thousands against a few hundreads.
I was amongst the few hundreads, leading the defense of this little Keep in central equestria.
Enclosed in the side of a mountain, only one way in and one way out.
We all knew our end a mile away. Death by starvation and diseases as our evemy waited at the gates.
But it was not the way we were meant to go.
So I organized our militia in a spearhead formation which took our enemies by surprise, and we were able to get a messanger through, telling our allies to come in haste.
This is where things get ugly.
We had unsealed the massive iron door keeping us from them, the thousands from the hundreads.
That was the day, we had to hold the line.
Once the messanger moved, we knew it'd take him one day to reach his destination.
One more day for our allied vanguard to reach us, two more for the rest of the army to find us.
And so for three days, four hundread mares and stallions fought four thousands, and I screamed until my throat fell off.
To this day, there is no conquest I'd not give up, no siege I'd not renounce, to relieve those two days in hell."