Fallout: Equestria- Chronicles Of Seaddle

Before I tell you the story of how I got to this point in my life; how I was betrayed, had everything taken away from me in a matter of days, and possibly made the worst decision a griffin or pony could ever make (not exactly in that order), I think that it's best that I tell you who I am, and what I am; I  also think that I should rethink my life a bit. Most of the events that lead to this moment, are of my own fault; I’ve learned to accept that now.

For starters, I am a thief, and a good one too. Others, however, view me as a raider. Though, I find such accusations to be quite silly. I’d never actually kill anypony, and I abhor violence. However, I do know better to protect myself. Nonetheless, I find the belief that I’m a raider to be  just as silly as my name. What's my name? My name is Dark Heart; silly, isn't it? What’s even more silly is that I’ve seem to have told you things out of order, telling you what I am, before telling you who I am.

Anyway, I don’t know why my parents gave me such a preposterous name as Dark Heart; an odd name to give to a griffin, and, I may never know; Mom and Dad disappeared when I was quite young; I was just a fledgeling. They died as mercenaries, trying to make money to provide food for me; At least, that’s what Applejack’s Rangers told me. In fact... I hardly even remember Mom and Dad’s faces. A shame isn’t it, never even knowing your parents’ faces? Yet, again, it’s actually quite common in the wasteland. So, I don’t really let it bother me… much. The best thing I could do, to show respect and love to my mother and father, is to just accept the name they have given me out of the goodness of their hearts. The rangers like to make fun of my name, though, by giving me the equally preposterous pet name, "Darky". However, I learned to accept both names, seeing that it's better to have a silly name, or even two silly names, than to have no name at all.

Growing up orphaned and penniless in the ruins of Seaddle isn't a simple task, it never is for anypony. If I was born a hundred years ago, in the the era of the New Canterlot Republic, maybe things would be a lot more easy for me; I would have grew up in an orphanage. Nonetheless, because I was born after the NCR’s fall, I am among of the many who have to try hard in order to survive the harshness of the wasteland.

How did the NCR fell, you may ask? Well, according to history: eighty years ago, a pair of boxes were found; one in the Canterlot Rubble Pile, one in New Roam. Two boxes, one white and blue, one black and white. The ESR and ZSR respectively. For those who don't know, that's the Equestrian Strategic Reserve and Zebra Strategic Reserve respectively. Third strike weapons, designed to be used by the survivors of the first and second strikes to level the other once and for all.

Normally that wouldn't have happened. But the Ceasar's Legion, remains of the Pre-War Zebra government had enough of the NCR and used the box. Needless to say, the NCR responded in kind.

After that, Equestria was brought back to being the radioactive hellhole that we live in today, and the NCR's been shattered

As, I have mentioned before, I am a thief. Without any relatives, that I know of, to provide me with the necessities I need to survive, I had to take survival into my own talons. Stealing isn’t an easy task. In fact I failed on my first try; got caught digging out of somepony’s saddelbag, looking for some fresh apples to eat.. However, being quite young at the time, the punishment wasn’t quite as severe as I expected it to be, only a warning; Which I ignored of course. In fact, I immediately worked hard to improve my thieving skills. As I got older, I got better, cleverer, stealthy, and above all, more casual; I was never caught again. That’s what it takes to become a good thief; one have to be cunning, and quick on their hooves (or in my case, talons).

Eventually, I no longer stole just for survival; once I have stolen enough essentials, like food to last me for a few months, and weapons to protect myself with, storing them in my little den, I got bored and found entertainment in stealing for sport. In fact, whenever I see that I have quite enough to live on for the time being, I would give what I steal to those who have less.

Soon, to my surprise, word of my deeds began to spread throughout the northern wasteland, other ponies and griffins began to follow my example. The first among them, a blue alicorn, named Razor Feather, who became my first and most dearest friend.

Razor Feather is quite an unusual creature, even for an alicorn. He was born naturally, and shares a similar backstory to my own. He was a more experienced thief than I was; Together, we would ambush passerbyers; Stealing from the “rich” and giving to the poor; sort of like another griffin I’ve read stories about, from long ago.

As time went on, others have joined our little operation, and eventually we formed a little clan, stationed at my home on the eastern side of Green Lake. Before we knew it, our numbers reached around a hundred.

One odd thing though, the clan is entirely made up of flyers; Griffins, Pegasi and Alicorns. Even the alicorns were a bit.. odd. All of them, like Razor Feather, were naturally born. Sort of odd, since that most Alicorns were made from taint.

Anyway, most of my clan members, share just about the same past; Ranging from the usual orphan story, to running away, and some of them, just wanted to find some action in their lives.

For five years we have operated in Seaddle; doing what we do best, stealing. Sometime we do it for survival, often for sport, and mostly to help the those less fortunate than us.

I did in fact had some inspiration for forming the Clan. I was inspired by Utopia, my idle. A griffin, like me. A very old griffin, though. A ghoul from the pre-war times. He fought in the First Great War, and have been protecting the southern part of Seaddle with his gang in his grand fortress, the Octogon. I would join his gang if I could, but, with the situation I’m in I just couldn’t. Besides, they are kind of too bloodthirsty for my taste.

Anyway, I’m going to far here. I think that it’s time for me to tell my story, starting from where things began to go wrong for me.

This is my story; This is my tragedy… may Celestia have mercy on my soul…