They're out of job, out of ammo, and out of New Mexico.

When machine replaced their job, they retaliate the only way they could. Shoot 'em all. Like any other plan made by their helmeted friend. It backfires. The flames burned them to another problem, and another land. A land that shares similarities to their Badlands. Dead trees, scorched sand, and exchange of gunfire. Equestrian Wasteland.

There, they walk a road to intervene an old grudge. The same hatred that sent the realm they reside into the hellhole it is now.