Fallout Equestria: Not All Gold Glitters
Chapter 1: Dried Up
“Sometimes, when you look back on your life on your deathbed, all you see is smiles and how far you’ve come. Sometimes, you don’t want to look back.”
The long story short of the world and how it is now: a long long time ago, ponies used to be three separate tribes, trying to live their own lives, but once their arguments had become unbearable and their soil, clouds, and gems became bare, they migrated. Then they came together after banishing the beings that had fed off of their own petty squabbles and created the great nation of Equestria, which had three princesses. One was the Princess of the Sun, Celestia. Another was her sister, the Princess of the Moon, Luna. The third and final princess was the Princess of Love and the Crystal Empire, Cadance.
During their rules many different obstacles came in their way and they conquered all of them, but another beast bested them. Their lands were succumbing to overuse and the greed of ponies, expanding and taking more and more of land that was not theirs. They got into a terrible disagreement with the Zebra Empire, causing the first war in over 1000 years. That war ended when both sides used weapons called Megaspells. These weapons were made with good intentions, but as the old saying goes, ‘The path to Tartarus is paved with good intentions.’ And so here we are now. Tartarus in Equestria.
My name is… It’s been a while, hard to remember something that hasn’t been said in 40 years. I’m not sure anymore. I think I used to have a pretty nice name. Mama used to call me her shining star, but I know that’s not what it was. Most call me ‘AHHH MONSTER!’ or something to that effect, but I prefer to be called Inspire. I like being called that because it makes me remember an old friend. Got a few of her books around. Run-on Sentence. She was a beaut, but not my type… I think? My old mind’s been wonky lately, so I’m not the best one to ask about the past.
Well anyways, I got the idea to go ahead and write down a few things, thinking it might help me with my memory when I look back. Well, I’ve got just one more thing to go ahead and tell myself or whoever picks this book up. Don’t forget, what you’re called is a ghoul, but you prefer the term Life Challenged. Anyways, start at the beginning. Well, a long long time ago, ponies used to live in separate tribes- Wait, just wrote that. Well, let’s skip the history lesson right now; not the best to ask about it.
It all started about a month or so back, when I was just making my walk around the old general store. Place was almost collapsing, but I like to go in and pretend just once in a while that I could shop like normal. Spent most of my old bits getting some Sparkle Colas. That day felt a bit more cold than normal, but it was early spring, or at least about the time I thought it should be, so some winter chill wasn’t unexpected.
I went back outside and took a look at the small town I had visited a long time ago; I think this was where I was when I got myself a shiny new unlife, but eh, don’t really feel much of a need to mention that, I mean how many times can I say old and a long time ago before it starts to feel stale? Well, back to what I was writing. this place had a nice feel for me, figured I’d stay around, make it my place for however long this whole unlife thing would last. Eventually, I started seeing mean things. Got myself a nice trusty rifle and fended them off, until that trusty rifle broke and I got another, and another, and another. I got tired of looking for rifles and used parts from the ones I broke and made my new one, Shatter.
Well, with Shatter on my back, I went ahead and trotted back to the inn I had been staying in for the roughly hundred or so years. That’s when I heard the nostalgic sound of Sapphire Shores from outside my window. I took a glance outside and I saw a group of ponies and a griffon walking there. I’ve seen the cart they pulled before, well not that exact cart, but carts like it. I knew they were just passing through and soon enough they would be completely gone and out of my hair, but then the sound of that bright mare stopped.
This got me curious enough to take another look outside. The cart ponies were just stopped in the road, taking a look over at something I couldn’t quite see from my angle, so like a smart pony I went ahead and looked outside, opening the window and staring right at whatever those cart ponies were looking at. It was one of them annoying cazadorables that sometimes float through. Most just stare at the weird rainbow of colors they got on them there wings. I myself don’t care much for it; it’s mostly an eyesore. I saw it coming fast to the cart ponies and I knew it was looking for a tasty snack. I think I heard somewhere once that iron is pretty good to eat; at least having good iron in your diet was healthy. So I did what every vet might do in this situation; prescribed a nice thick bullet to its head.
Shatter hit it hard and lived up to its name, well kinda. You see, it doesn’t really shatter things made of blood so much as make them squish or splat. Squisher didn’t sound like a good name, but now that I think of it, Splatter might have been pretty good, but didn’t feel right at the time. So yeah, cazadorable went splat and I cheered. Yup, I cheered. Kinda hard to do when it feels like you’ve got a throat full of dragon scales, but there ain’t a day I don’t at least try to get something out of it.
Well, the Ponies down there must have thought I was one of those feral life challenged ponies and took a pot shot at me when they got knocked out of their stupor. I quickly ducked and lost my hat, a nice looking bowlers hat I had on me since I can remember.
“That any way to thank the pony who just saved yah from becoming bug chow?!” I yelled over the sound of gunfire that exploded down from the street, little shards and splitters of wood flying into my mane, or what was left of it. The aged brown of the wood contrasted with the nice little silver locks of hair I had. Was that relevant? Not really. Soon enough, though, the gunshots started to slow to a halt and I heard what sounded like wing flaps as the griffon came up and peeked through the window, looking down on me. She had a rather nasty chip off her beak near the tip, like you might see on a macaw who tried to crack through a cage. She snorted as she looked at me.
“He’s fine. just a random ghoul, ain’t a crazy,” she called back in a rather sweet voice. I didn’t think griffons could have sweet voices; thought they all sounded like they were always angry or something. She moved from the window as I got up and glanced over to my hat. It wasn’t torn to shreds, but I didn’t think I would be wearing it soon; too banged up. “So old timer, what you doing here, got something worth protecting?” she asked me, her elbow on the frame of the window.
“Name’s not Old Timer. I don’t know the first thing about cooking,” I said back to her, earning a snicker. “At least I don’t remember if I do… Just call me Inspire.” I smiled, my pearly whites showing. Yeah, I kept my teeth clean; they didn’t fall out yet, luckily enough. “I ain’t got anything I’m protecting here besides my hide, or what’s left of it, and you fellas, apparently,” I said with a tip of my... oh right, no hat anymore.
The griffon gave a small nod. “We’re just on our way down to Hareburrow. I saw that shooting, or at least the aftermath of it. Wanna come with us? I don’t care if you’re a pony, ghoul, or even if you’re a damn changeling; anypony who can splatter a cazadorable like that should be helping us.” She moved and started to flap her wings a bit harder to keep aloft, before extending a claw. “How about it, Inspire?”
“I’d thank you kindly for the offer,” I started off saying, slowly weighing the pros and cons. The only real con I could think of was not really having much of a nice bed to stay in, but it was possible I would be able to find myself another one on the trip. “Uhh, I think I will just thank you kindly for the offer and come along; not much left here, I think.” I scratched my head and picked up what I had left; just some saddlebags and Shatter.
By the time I got down there, a few of the ponies were giving curious glances towards me, but the cart pony was just pulling his belongings down the road. I gave a small wave and a smile towards them, which dismissed most of them, but not the griffon. She came up to me and smiled, taking my hoof and shaking it. “By the way, name’s Crow Menacegrin.” She smiled. “Remember that name; one day I’ll be the best shot in the world,” she said with a loud cawing laugh.
I simply gave a shrug and a smile, nodding politely, and fell in behind everyone else, going ahead and taking a good last glance at the old town I had found so many years ago.
Our journey to Hareburrow wasn’t very long. Met a few more annoying pests of the wasteland, rockadiles, radroaches, some geckos, but nothing the bodyguards of the caravan couldn’t handle. Also, found out that carts like this are called Caravans. Usually owned by some sort of business. Hareburrow was an odd town. Seems like it was built into a few large sized hills, many of the buildings being directly in the sides of them, grassy knolls just a simple trot away. Looked pretty nice to me, but the others just seemed to trot right by the sights, stopping at what looked like a tavern, which I deduced by the large sign over it that read in bright purple letters, ‘TAVERN’. Why they would choose purple I would never understand. Never really liked the look of that color.
Crow gave me a nice wave as she went into the tavern and I found myself out alone. Not really alone alone, just kinda out there without knowing anypony to talk to or anything to do. I thought about going into the tavern but didn’t really see much of a point since ,well, I don’t drink or eat. I took my leave and started to wander the hills, passing by a few houses before I saw an interesting little tree. It was just about the size of a bush, but it looked like a tiny tree, must have been one of those Bonsai trees I had heard about. I’ve just never seen one growing in the wild; always thought they took a lot of care to keep alive. Nothing to say these didn’t have a lot of care for them, though; I went on my merry way after taking a glance at it.
And that is when I found myself tripping over a root the size of a ladybug and rolling down the hill, into a rather thorny bush. After it scraped off some of the remaining good skin, I opened my eyes and groaned. In front of me ,however, was something quite odd. It looked like a tiny pony with large wings the size of my eyes. It has a scratched up white and yellow coat with frills around the edges where its hooves were. Its mane was gold and its coat was a rather pleasant shade of pink. It opened its wide eyes, blinking a bit and its large eyelashes seemed to struggle to stay on.
“Ní mé le feiceáil ar aghaidh go gránna ó fuair mo dheartháir isteach i gcomhrac le chipmunk,” It said in a rather tiny and male voice, laughing afterwards. I had no words to say other than…
“What?”
Footnote: Level Down!
Current Level reset to Level 1 due to purposes of storytelling and system mechanics.
Footnote: Level Up!
Current Level: 2
Tag Skills: Firearms, Repair, Science.
Traits:
Wild Wasteland: You have the propensity for discovering or encountering extremely unusual and “wacky” elements of the Equestria Wasteland.
Trigger Discipline: Your attacks with firearms and magical energy weapons skills are
made with a +10 skill modifier, but cost 5 more AP.
Radiation Child: Radiation is beneficial to you. You regenerate through
exposure. Your body consumes rads during the regeneration process at the
rate of 10 rads per turn. However, without radiation, your body heals
naturally at only a quarter of the normal rate.
Skill Point Allocation is unknown at time, please refresh and try again later!
