The Western Wasteland

War. War never changes.

When Magical fire consumed Equestria, those who survived did so in great, underground Stables. When they opened, their inhabitants set out across the wastes of the old world to build new societies, establish villages, and form trade outposts.

As decades passed, what had been the Equestrian southern peninsula united beneath the flag of the New Celestial Republic, dedicated to honor the successful reign of Princess Celestia, and prepare for her return. As the Republic grew, so did its needs. Scouts spread from Dodge Junction, seeking territory and wealth, in the dry and merciless expanse of the San Palomino Desert. They returned with tales of a city seemingly untouched by the Balefire Bombs, Rune Scars*, and Megaspells that had scorched the rest of the world, and a great wall spanning the mouth of the Big Apple River.

The NCR mobilized its army and sent it east to occupy the Big Apple Dam, and restore it to working condition. But across the Big Apple, another society had risen. An army of corrupted slaves, led by an insane crystal pony, and driven by the icy hatred spawned from the Windigoes, the Crystalline Legion.

Five years have passed since the Republic has held onto the dam against the Legion's onslaught, but only just. The Legion did not retreat. It did not falter. Across the river, the Legion gathers strength. Campfires burn, and training drums beat.

Through it all, the New Cloud Strip has remained open for business under the control of it's mysterious overlord, Dr. Wing, and his army of rehabilitated tribals and police automatons.

I am a courier, hired by the Cloud Courier service to deliver a package to the New Cloud Strip. What would have been a simple delivery job has taken a turn. . . for the worse.