Fallout Equestria: A Horse With No Name

War, war never….

Well, I needn’t say anymore. Those individuals who you view as ’heroes’ must’ve repeated that phrase to you more times then you can remember. Let me warn you now, you aren’t going to hear any of that from me.

Most ponies out here like to spin tales of how good they are. How they stood up to tyranny, fought for the freedom of all, and saved the Equestrian Wasteland. Unfortunately for you, yet very fortunate for me, most of these stories are false.

But before I say anymore and befuddle you any further, I should probably explain the context of all this.

Long ago, back when Celestia and Luna ruled Equestria, there was this massive war. A lot of folks nowadays have no idea why it started because a lot of the facts concerning the conflict have been lost to history. You may find a data loge here or a well read scholar there, but most of the fine details are shrouded in mystery. You can’t really blame anypony for it though. Folks were so focused on just surviving from day to day that they simply didn’t have the time to remember how they got into their current situation, and in most cases it was better to forget.

Anyway, this conflict started off with some small skirmishes along the Equestrian border, but soon it turned into an all out war. Each country was aiming to outdo the other. Military force increased rapidly, government authority knew no bounds, and propaganda littered every building, billboard and telephone pole. Soon enough the whole world was thrown into chaos.

In the end, everypony ended up killing everypony else. Powerful bombs fueled by magic were launched in every direction, balefire rained from the sky, and a horrible taint was released unto the world. Fortunately, amidst all this chaos some ponies managed to survive by hiding in massive bomb shelters called ‘Stables.’ They were able to live peaceful lives underground while the world above burned away. When the time was right they would rise like phoenixes from the ashes of the scorched earth and start anew.

This did eventually happen. Many ‘Stables’ opened up a few years after the war had ended, and the inhabitants spread out to try and settle this new Equestria. No longer was it the peaceful country they had spent their childhoods in, nor was it the industrial war machine it had warped into during their adulthood. No, they would spend their twilight years living amongst the dead skeleton of their once beloved homeland, the Equestrian Wasteland.

How I came to live amongst the wastes is a mystery. My ancestors may have come from a ‘Stable’, or they could’ve managed to survive the megaspell holocaust outside of a shelter and persevere through the worst of it.

Whoever they were or whatever they did to survive doesn’t matter now. I am who I am, and I am somepony who choose a different path from those other individuals I mentioned earlier. Instead of building myself up to be some kind of hero, I accepted who I was and what I chose to do to survive.

I was a slaver, and I was proud of it.

I traveled the wastes, making and trading slaves wherever I could. Me and my gang got paid well by our leader, Chrome Titan, who also helped us build our own fort that soon turned into a small settlement. We were talked about throughout the wastes, and anypony who’d  heard about us made sure to stay well out of our way.

In the end, our infamy was our own undoing.

Word of our sin had fallen upon the ears of the righteous, and a small crusade erupted in an attempt to bring us all to justice.

The way we lived,

the way we fought,

and the way we died

was changed by war.

Because war… war always changes.