Cannerlands

I am a monster. No scathing sarcasm, no self pity, no jokes. I am a monster. I enjoy killing ponies and I like steak. Grind was digging into his delicious steak like it was the first meal he has seen in days. He took no mind as I took my begrudgingly first bite of the meal. I would be much less appalled if I despised my meal. It is the only thing available to eat at the table and I know my mind would simply say, 'What else am I going to eat? The table cloth?'

Which, I would like to add was the fanciest table cloth I have ever seen in my adult pony life. It a pure silky white. The moment my hooves touched it, I was half tempted to pull it off the table and rush it to my bed room to snuggle with. The three of us, Cass, Grind, and I were sitting a round table that could fit four ponies around it. This table, along with the other vacant tables that surrounded us looked as if they belonged in a five star restaurant. Each table had a single candle that melted into a glass tube that was capable of recycling the candle it just used. It was actually quite an ingenious concept, but when I had to guess that candles were difficult to import when bandits were constantly raiding your trade routes, you had to start using things a smarter way.

This dining hall was off of the main lobby through some double doors, and when I first took the room in, it was quite breath taking. The floors looked as if they were always neatly polished, a speaker stood in each corner of the room, three ceiling fans helped keep the room as comfortable as it could, and a well sized stage that could hold a full band and singer.

I fidgeted in my red plush seat and I bite my lip in anticipation of my next bite of steak. Instead of diving my head in for my next bite of meat, I decided to look up at the stage thoughtfully and ask Cass something that came to mind, "Hey Cass, how often do you have parties here?" I try to sound as interested as I could. I was honestly really curious, but I hope no one saw my attempt at trying to divert any attention to me not eating my meal.

Cass shrugged, tipping a sip of water from her clear as crystal flask on the table. "It's been a long time. Why do you ask sugar plum? Consider yourself a party pony?" Cass asks keeping her head propped up using her hooves.

I shrug. "I just noticed the stage up there and I assumed you'd move the tables for more room to dance," I point out. "Just wondered if you had a lot of parties here,"

Cass sighed and looked to side, getting that look as she had another flash back to a time in the past, "We did. But then more ponies came through concerned about chasing adventure in the Cannerlands," She looked to the side and I noticed Grind stopped digging into his food like a monster, tidying up the best he could with the table cloth, and trying to comfort Cass. Cass barely acknowledged him and continued, "Soon, we had more reasons to mourn than reasons to celebrate. It's been a while since we all have had good news," Cass looked frustrated with herself as well as the world. But a more prominent feature was how tired she looked. Tired of continuing on when she thought about it. Her shoulders slumped over and her eyes were baggy from what I could tell were sleepless nights. The more I looked, the more I saw that she was a beautiful confident mare during the day, but at night she was shriveling up to something pathetic.

"Well, you may want to get this place ready for another party," Grind patted Cass's back with a trying-too-hard smile, "Because Kale and I are going to end the Wound Lickers once and for all tomorrow. Right Kale?" He looks at me and I wait for Cass to look at me to give my response.

"Yep. Grind and I are going to kill Fat Stab. You're welcome to come along if you wanna see that bastard die," The venom in my voice was fake of course. I had no idea who Fat Stab was. And I'm sure Cass knew too. Geez. Grind and I were going to take on a miniature army. We were able to fight four bandits on the train. Did the Sheriff really think we could take out an entire hide out? I tried to push the thoughts out of my head while in the presence of Cass, though I'm sure she could see right through me.

"Yeah," She smiled and nodded at me. This entire conversation felt fake. Grind was the only one who seemed to either honestly believe we were going to finally end this bandit problem or he was incredible at self denial. We were going to die tomorrow and it was too late to change that. I already told the Sheriff I would do it, and if anything, I am a mare of my word to at least attempt. And hey, if we're lucky, I might accidentally kill Fat Stab in the process of my suicide mission.

It's not like I had anything else better to do or anything else to fall back on. Not a bit to my name to even attempt to start farming. All I have is a gun, a bunch of bullets, a manual for a communication device, and letter to go help a city I have no ties to.

The rest of the dinner was ate in silence. I'm sure Grind realized what Cass's true expectations were and didn't try to reassure her anymore.

"You don't have to come," I tell Grind when we're picking up supplies the next morning. My entire body ached still from the train accident, and it didn't help that I only went half way through my meal before silently telling myself that was enough of eating Mr. Robinson who was my old cow school teacher. So I was still hungry, my body still yelled at my every time I moved the wrong way, and I'm going to take a stab, pun, at killing Fat Stab who is probably heavily guarded by serial killers.

I almost forgot why I was doing this in the first place. Even if I don't kill Fat Stab, I can rescue whoever is down there. And then I demolish their home base with their own explosives. It made me kind of curious how the Sheriff knew where the explosive room was but I just wrote it off as tons of preparation. They were probably going to attempt this when they had more Trove Hunters from the train, but when it failed to produce they had to rely on whoever was left. Me and Grind.

Then after the bandits were outta the way, I could focus on the payback against Stock. A silent voice in the back of my mind cried out that maybe I should just leave the entire Stock situation be and let Stanley handle it himself. I had no stake in it really, Stock tried to enslave me but he failed with Wolf River's assistance, so no harm...

My stomach twisted at just the thought of walking away. This world has already made me realize that I'm a monster, I'm not going to let it make me any worse. What Stock was doing was wrong. What those bandits were doing were wrong. I can't go back to Equestria and the only way to make a living here was to move forward. The Sheriff offered a job and it paid a lot of bits was the bottom line. I was doing it for my own reasons, but then my mind went to my gut and my gut said, "I'd like to eat something that didn't have a heart beat right before,".

Money was the real reason I was doing this. Everything else was equally important, but maybe one point off of money. This became more apparent as Grind had to buy all of our supplies, kind of defeating my entire, 'You don't have to come,' offer. But at the same time, he was just a kid, like me sure but it was clear that his dad didn't want him to risk his life for danger. So he decided to try and teach his kid how to become a train conductor or something.

The fact that Grind never really brought up his father was strange. Maybe he's still mourning or maybe their relationship was strained. The whole thought behind trying to teach his kid how to be a train conductor and to not score 'CRITICAL' hits kinda backed my assumptions.

Either way, Grind was doing most of the shopping for us. He would frequently take looks at me and then back at filling out the list of what we needed. The way this shop worked was odd. The bar tender would give you a list and you would fill out what you needed. If the entirety of Cannerlands was like this, I would be okay with the change. Whoever had the time to walk through a giant building and pick up food off the shelves, wasting hours of your precious life?

While Grind continued to fill out the list of supplies we needed, I swiveled in my chair and leaned against the bar. For the middle of the day, this place was pretty busy. Something else that surprised me was that the majority of the customers here were families. It looked more like a restaurant than a western pony saloon. I was half expecting to see giant muscle ponies in the corner hoof wrestling, a few ponies with goatees playing black jack, and an old stallion playing the piano to try and lighten up the mood as best as he could. Instead, the direct opposite of that, foals and fillies running around while stay at home moms chatted it up. It made me think though that this town must be pretty well off if not everypony needed to work in this town to trade whatever with Stock. And that made me start thinking what Bordertown's main export of good was. What was this city's main source of income? What made it boom? Surely not Stock by himself, right? Right?

My stomach continued doing funny things in my body as I began to notice little things on all the furniture. The tables, the chairs, the stools at the bar, the end of the bar railing, the ceiling fans, the vacant piano in the corner, the stairs, the railing lining the stairs, and practically one of the filly's pacifiers had small little intials 'S.S.' I didn't have to ask what that stood for because deep in my heart I already knew.

Even if I did take down Fat Slab and his merry little bandit cave, is Stock going to remain in control of this town? Am I fighting a doomed battle? If I somehow survive this encounter with the bandits, I'm positive Stanley and I would get destroyed if we threatened Stock's life in any way, shape, or form.

"...and the total would be..." I hear Grind whisper to himself and I look over his shoulder. A few gallons of pure water, two weeks of food, and three medical kits. I blink. I quickly calculate the total in my head and I'm sure I swallow a fly for the length of time that my mouth hangs open in shock.

"Grind?" I poke him in the shoulder. He looks over at me with frustrated look.

"What Kale?! I'm in the middle of doing math... damnit! I lost my place!" Grind yelled angrily and I snort which gets an even angrier look from Grind.

"Why do we need all of this stuff? How far is Bottom Drop Alley?" I ask him, a little concerned about his supplies. I was beginning to question this little mission the Sheriff put me on if we needed two weeks of food for this trip to Bottom Drop Alley.

Instead, Grind gave me a more baffling answer, "I dunno. I'm just trying to be prepared," My mind shut down, trying to avoid any logic and reason, for that would just give me short of an aneurism. I calmly swiveled in my seat and I flagged down the bartender.

"Sir, how far is Bottom Drop Alley from here?" I ask, my voice literally on the edge of pleading.

The bartender was pale pony. He didn't necessarily have a color, if I had to give him one, it would be gray. He looked decrepit in a non offensive way and too old to be living. Seriously. He was kind though, the kind of kind that was only possible through years of experience. He scratched the back of his head and closed his eyes, trying to remember something that was probably forgotten. "One day, two days tops if you're trying to avoid bandits on the main road,"

I thank him for the information and right before he turned away from us, I decided to shoot for another question. "Anyway you can give us an order for two ponies a trip to Bottom Drop Alley and back?"

That was way easier than trusting Grind to try and shop for groceries. A few days of cold cuts and bread. A gallon of water to be shared between the two of us. A medical kit and a few insta-heals in case things go south for whatever reason. And a 'Power Cell', something used to power something or whatever. The Power Cell confused me on its purpose. It was a small cylinder that could fit in my hoof. It was apparently a new thing that came from beyond the Border. I assumed it was another technological advancement that friendship and kindness and fru fru girly princess morality didn't constrain. It was also common that this Power Cell could help with defusing certain devices or something. The bartender offered it to Grind as a gift for the news of his late dad.

Grind shrugged it off and made the first comment that I've heard him say about him, "He was a good pony. My friend and I are going to avenge him," Making me wince at his wording. I didn't want to avenge his dad, I just wanted to stop Stock from monopolizing trade in Bordertown, and also the money. Of course Grind didn't know that but still, I didn't want Grind to think I was the justice vengeful type.

We left the Grocery Saloon with saddle bags filled with supplies and an angry look from Grind. "It was my money!"

"And you were going to spend it... no, waste it on things that would go bad within a few days," I scold him. Was this kid seriously going to help me on this mission?

"So? I have the bits. Dad left a bunch of money for me in case he bit the dust when I'm still a kid. So I have plenty of bits," Grind told me matter of factly as if he won the argument. I rub my forehead and I try to ignore him for a moment.

I sigh outloud, loud enough for him to hear me, and I turn to him trying to put the best smile I could fake. "The important thing is that we now have a map of how to get to Bottom Drop Alley. I suggest we get a move on before it gets dark,"

"You don't get to tell me what to do! You're not my mom!" Grind said with such arrogance that I wanted to throttle him. Where have I seen this kind of behavior before? Oh yeah. My brother.

My brother, Swedish Veggie, went to college and my parents and I didn't hear from him for a few years. He comes back with a college degree, a trophy wife, and tons of bits to help out around the house. I was younger still at the time so I don't remember the details. I just remember he got into a huge argument with my parents and left while leaving not a single bit or his hot trophy wife. Seriously, that trophy wife was drop dead gorgeous, beautiful and sophisticated enough to make me question my choice to remain a virgin for life.

It seemed scary to have sex, all that moaning and panting. I remember the first time I saw a couple ponies... do it. They were sweating harder than in gym class when we had to run the mile. No thank you.

I groan, my blood pressure increasing almost giving me a heart attack on the spot. "Okay, then when do you think we should leave? Tomorrow? Next week?"

"Well, we have to say good bye to everyone here so they can gives us a hero's farewel... HEY!" I cut him off as I saw an entire dreamy good bye in his eyes. I did not have time for this. I grab his saddle bags and I program my HAYS device to Bottom Drop Alley. I feel Grind yanking on my tail, but I pull him with ease. What is with this stallion? Guess first impressions aren't everything. Now that badass compliment didn't mean a whole lot coming from him.

I look at the town one last time and I do feel a little conflicted. I didn't really get to explore around as much as I wanted to. Usually when I come across a new town, the first thing I do is talk to the locals and see what is up. But the Sheriff didn't give me that tour like he promised. Of course he's probably busy with all of the bandit activity, hence the job probably. Still, I almost wanted to take Grind up on his offer. The sooner we can drive Stock away from this place and allow trade to regulate again the better.

So when bandits aren't attacking trains or trade routes, terrorizing cities, or even each other, they are actually the most normal ponies I've ever seen... except for them being caked in blood while doing everyday activities.

"How many do you see?" Grind whispered to me. I looked back at him and told him to shush.

My HAYS device labeled the path to Bottom Drop Alley as the Staircase. Probably because it seemed like we were constantly moving in a downward slope into the earth itself. It made me feel claustrophobic, like after the train crashed, but luckily there was no roof so I could look up and still see the sky through the giant orange rock sky crack.

It has been maybe a few hours since we left Bordertown when we decided that maybe we should take a break. Grind went to go relieve himself or something while I dug into a makeshift sandwich for myself. Man I miss Kale. I miss the chewy texture. The crunch you could get if you cook it just right. The salty balance with enough herbs and spices. That was the first thing I was going to farm. Some nice batches of kale.

I find myself sitting on an brightly orange colored rock while I eat my sandwich. The Staircase looked like it was going to end in a canyon at the very end. The walls and rocks were a dusty bright redish orange color mixture. It always made me wonder why they changes color. Too much sun made it orange? That didn't sound like a thing, but what did I know about rock biology? I find my silly observations cut short when Grind tripped back into our little rest spot telling me of the bandit camp down the way.

I think back to the bartender and couldn't help but think that this path wasn't always traveling so deep, but overtime it become steeper from rain or a lot of trotting through, because I did not see a way around these guys. I was almost tempted to ask Grind for advice, but he probably had no clue and would have said something terribly stupid.

'That's not fair Kale. He saved your life on the train,' I'm sure whatever I grabbed onto would have kept me safe. If anything, I saved his life when I took out those two bandits. 'What happens next if Grind didn't get in contact with the Sheriff to prevent him from blowing your train off the track?'

I bite my tongue to prevent any further inner monologue. He saved my life and I saved his, fact is I'm stuck with this guy until the job is done and I can find a nice plot of land in Cannerlands to start my farm project.

I peek from my boulder and I take another look at the enemies below us. We were on a cliff side with some boulders for cover. To our right was a slope down that would meet in the opening where the bandits were at. My HAYS device labeled most of them as 'Bandit', a few as 'Psycho', and one scary looking pony that had a spikey mask on that was labeled as a 'Bruiser'. The Bruiser didn't have any axes on him, but instead also had a gun of some sort. It looked like an AJ brand from the typical steel and brown coloring it had that I recognized from Stock's shop. Although he was naked safe for the spikey mask and gun slung over his shoulder, he seemed the most threatening. I try to look for another way around them and I ain't seeing much. We could try to sneak our way past, but if we got caught, we would have no cover and get covered in holes by the time we got past them. We have to fight.

"Alright Grind, what brand of gun do you have?" I ask him, ready to start a tactical plan.

"Gun? Didn't you buy me one?" He tilted his head, genuinely confused.

"No," I narrow my eyes at him, hoping he was pulling my leg.

"I'm thirteen years old! Why would I have a gun?" He tells me. Thirteen. He is definitely not my age, Sheriff. I'm not sure if I should be complimented because I look young in his eyes or insulted that he thinks I'm this immature. I'm seventeen. Still a kid, almost an adult. I... don't know how to react. We could always go back to Stock and buy a gun, but that would be awkward followed by him probably going to go through a more awkward attempt to recruit him or something. I look again at the gun the Bruiser was holding. He probably had ammo on him or somewhere in the camp site.

"Ok," I say through my teeth, barely containing my annoyance. "I'm going to shoot that big guy with the spikey mask. When he goes down, I'm going to cover you as you grab his gun," I tell him my plan. He nods as if this was an everyday task. I think a little bit more as I look at the crowd of bandits. I count maybe eight in sight. I'm not too familiar with reloading my gun yet, but I can manage with whatever was in my clip. "You do know how to shoot a gun right?"

Grind nodded. "Hug close to my body to make bandits go boom," He recites. I grimace as I immediately knew where he got that from. It made me wonder if I really knew the story behind Stock. It didn't seem Stock tried to make him a slave in anyway. This just made me more confused if Stock or Stanley was the bad guy here. Stock did try to enslave me against my will... but he did so much for the town.

I push that out of my mind. I would have more time to think about that later. I needed to concentrate on my aim. I motion Grind to get in position to run down and I pull the FS rifle from my pack.

I began to tremble as if I felt a cold breeze. It was incredibly hot for being inside a canyon, but goosebumps formed all over my body. I checked my clip inside the gun to make sure it was full, before remembering my HAYS device told me that already. I take position over the boulder and I push all doubt from my mind. I'm a monster, I'm a bad pony, I've hurt a lot of ponies for my own selfish needs, but we need to get through this Staircase.

I pull the trigger.

Grind dashed off as I pulled the trigger. Either he had confidence in me or he got spooked by my gun. Either way, I had to focus to make sure a vacant gun was available by the time he got to the Bruiser. I take single shots at the Bruiser, trying to steady myself as it slowly began to warm up to me, allowing me to prove myself to it.

The Bruiser and Psychos took immediate notice first as the Bandits took a moment to realize what was going on. The Bruiser took notice of Grind, but then look up and saw me taking shots at him. He was about to duck behind a rock when a few of my bullets meet their target. He stumbles and tries to fire a half hearted attempt at me. I quickly dodge back behind my rock and let the blast of lead hit the rock. I peek back up and I notice that Grind was being blocked off by a Psycho. I take down the Psycho and I finish the Bruiser off. I fire a few more shots at some Psychos to make them back off of Grind.

Grind acquires his weapon and quickly dives behind some rocks as the Bandits have now collected themselves and pulled out little pistols of their own. They head further down the trail and peek out from behind their rocks to take shots at us. The Psychos then begin to rush Grind with axes out. Crap!

I quickly reload as fast I could and I take aim at the closest Psycho. Grind takes the kill though as the blast from his gun almost sends him reeling and the Psycho down in a single shot. I switch targets to two remaining Psychos. I land a 'CRIT' on one, and the other goes down in a few shots.

I trot over to Grind and he turns to me quickly with the gun loaded. "Gah!" I immediately push the gun away and he blushes in embarrassment.

"Sorry, thought you were a bandit... man what a rush! You're really good with that gun," He says. I nod and I try to look where the remaining Bandits are.

"Move up, I'll cover ya," I tell him and I move to a position to take shots at the Bandits position. I actually manage to kill one behind some rocks before the remaining two Bandits recollect themselves behind some rocks.

The FS Rifle felt warm in my hooves. I felt one with the gun as if it was just another limb that was attached to my body. I assume this is what Stock meant when he said to hug it close to your body, but I definitely didn't expect to feel this serene when I took each shot.

When I see Grind make it half way to the Bandits, I trot behind him with my rifle slightly stick out of my pack just in case they peek again. Grind manages to take out the a Bandit and the other Bandit makes a run for it. Grind was about to take another shot when I stop him. "Trying to get more kills than me?" Grind gives me a disapproving look.

I feel my insides torn in half. This guy is thirteen years old and he is treating this like a game. I wonder who taught him that? A certain Stockpile Pony comes to mind. Yeah, he was definitely a bad guy. "C'mon. Let's see if those other bandits dropped anything we can use,"

Turns out, they did not. We found more bullets for Grind's new AJ Shotgun and a HAYS disc on the Brusier's body but that was it. The pistols the Bandits dropped were poor quality and nearly fell apart in my hooves. The HAYS device didn't even classify it as a gun, so we left it to degrade in the wasteland. I download the disc onto my HAYS device as we take another break from the fight.

I offer Grind a our canteen of water and gulps at it greedily. I sigh as he hooves it back. I am about to take a sip when I realize that we still have to trot back, and with Grind's not so gracious greedy gulps, we are going to need every single drop. I stow it for now and I finish my sandwich from earlier.

Once the disc loaded, I played it for Grind and I to listen to.

"Please. Any Trove Hunters, anypony, zebra, griffin... damnit... please goddesses, help us all. The Scab Lickers are tormenting our town. If there's anypony... anybody who can help us... please... please... oh goddess... they're rounding us up again..." The recording cuts off and feel my blood boil. The voice was of a young stallion, tormented and full of fear. Rounding them up? For what? My mind could only assume the worst as I immediately stood up.

"Hah! Sucks for that guy, amirite?" Grind stands up with me and offers me a high hoof.

"Do you ever shut up?" If looks could kill, Grind would be another 'CRIT'. But the suddenness of my comment catches him off guard and before he could even answer, I trot further down the path where the Bandit ran off to.

Okay, so maybe allowing the Bandit to run ahead wasn't the smartest idea.

We were pinned into a corner with our cover slowly being decimated by bullets. "Looks like we got a live one!" I could hear one of Bruisers shout to his comrades. Luckily there weren't any Psychos to bum rush us with an ax, but being surrounded by gunfire wasn't keeping my hopes high.

I bit my lip hard as I felt a nice comforting warmth go through my entire body. One of the insta-heals was doing its work as a lovely bullet found its way through my hoof. My vision flashed red and I felt my entire body work against my brain, wanting to curl up on the floor in pain. Grind ended a Psycho's life as well as removed his face with his gun as he pulled me to some cover. There were maybe ten, twenty even. It was hard to tell through all the bullets.

My wound was still fresh, but it no longer felt like a pony was driving a knife through it. My HAYS device told me my health was full despite the gash. I assume it meant I was just being a big baby now and I could move anytime I wanted to. The hoof felt weak to walk on, but this rock I hiding behind didn't have much left for this earth. "Move!" I scream at Grind as we dash to a bunch of smaller rocks.

"We're so close to town!" Grind cried out in despair.

'Yeah, a town full of bandits we're trying to kill.' But I keep the comment to myself. We were fighting right by a giant gorge which had a rickety bridge hanging over it. The bridge led to a pair of giant cement walls that were wedged right into the mountain side. In the center of the cement walls was a big pair of wooden doors that I assume was supposed to keep us Trove Hunter types out. I peek out and I the FS spasms wildly in my hooves, giving me the cold shoulder after not using it for a while. I take a few more shots and they find their way into a Bandit's head. 'CRIT'

I motion Grind to move forward and try to buy us some breathing room. He hops over our little rock and shoots a Bruiser in the body. The Bruiser staggers and I'm a little shocked as he stands back up to continue shooting. Grind was already moving to another target, expecting him to be downed from his blast. I end the Bruiser before he gets the chance as Grind continues to move forward.

My HAYS device told me to reload, so I did. I slap the cartridge out of my gun and replace it with another. I drop a few more Bandits and I call over to Grind to warn him about the Bruisers to his left. He quickly turns and blasts a Bruiser that was about to jump him. Unfortunately, I'm unable to cover his back as his friend pops up and shoots Grind a few times. My stomach sinks and I quickly take off to get to Grind's side. My HAYS device told me that he was down and where he was located. He was behind some rocks and two Bandits.

I'm halfway to Grind who was on the other side of the canyon. A Bandit comes up from behind and takes a few shots at me. Crap! My mind panics, if I go down as well, then we were dead. I feel my entire back side light up in heat, my body telling me I am feeling excruciating pain but my mind pushing me forward.

I dive behind a wall and the two Bandits that were covering Grind began to converge on me. I quickly pop some shots at the Bandit that surprised me and I see him go down. I pant heavily and I reach into my pack for another insta-heal to jam into my flank. I slam the cartridge out of my gun and jam another one in. My HAYS device let me know I was running low on cartridges. Oh dear Celestia, help me in my time of need.

I quickly peek from cover and take down one of the Bandits, his friend ducking behind cover. I take the moment to rush forward and jump over the cover to slam my rifle into his face. He was low on health and decide to just finish him with a buck to the face. He goes down as his entire body goes limp. I can feel my heart churn shame into my blood, but my blood was pumping too fast to care. With every kill, I gained focus to just end the conflict.

It was then that Grind's downed signal disappeared and I froze in place. "Grind?!" I scream panicked. "He was just a kid damnit!" I make a futile attempt at making the Bruiser feel bad. Behind me, I didn't notice another Bandit taking this opportunity to show me how a bullet in my back felt.

I collapse into a pile of fur and hooves and I gasp, trying to turn to face my target. I was dead. We didn't even come close to Fat Stab. Maybe this what was going to always happen anyways? Maybe death was...

"Don't you give up on me now!" A voice calls out and I'm still struggling to fire at the Bandit. I feel my body being lifted and my HAYS device was letting me know that Grind was giving my assistance. But that's impossible, he was dead. "I'm not dead. Now stop muttering and let's kill this bastard who just shot you,"

I feel myself get lifted to my hooves and strength slowly ebbing into my muscles. My health bumped up to a meager sliver and I immediately jam an insta-heal into me. I fight every urge to jam another one. My HAYS device was letting me know that I was pretty much good to go. I also fight the urge to see where I was shot exactly. That's not important, I gotta end the threat in front of us first.

I see the Bandit take one look at us and then took off for the bridge. "Can I shoot him this time?" Grind asks as the Bandit gets on the bridge. Every brain cell in my head wanted to scream yes. That asshole shot me. He deserves it. He's just going to make your life harder.

"No." I tell him. He drops his gun, his mouth hanging open at me in disbelief. "He's not shooting at us and I'd rather save our ammo for ponies who are immediately threatening my life,"

"The frigging asshat just shot you! And you're letting him go?!"

"We did just murder all of his friends, co-workers, or whatever they were," I point out.

"So when we get to Fat Stab and he runs, we're just going to let him go?" Grind spoke angrily.

"No. We're going to murder Fat Stab. But I'd rather have one less pony life on my conscience, wouldn't you?" I give him a look and I stow my gun while I loot the corpses for anything useful. I know he doesn't mind or at least he doesn't show it. Maybe this is all a part of his vengeful conquest for his father? Unfortunately for him, it's not a part of my mission. Rescue any prisoners in the Bandit Hideout and destroy said Hideout. Kill Fat Stab if we so happen to run into him. Any life along the way wasn't 'necessary' unless it endangered our immediate well being.

Right before he turns to help me, I hear another gun shot and I turn around. He took a rifle from one of the Bruiser's bodies and shot the Bandit squarely in the head. 'CRIT'. It was my turn to stare at him in disbelief as the Bandit feel into the gorge below. "...Well that's going to get ya killed someday soon..." I heard Grind say under his breath. He trots past me and begins to gather the loot spread around.

I sit down dumbfounded as he casually gathers up the guns. "Hey Kale, we have an FS Pistol. Your favorite brand," He calls out cheerily as if he didn't do what he just did. My mind races on how I should react. I couldn't find anything tangible to say, so I decide to just drop the issue. Just let Grind kill whoever, he deserves to feel like he does. You don't have to like it. You just have to tolerate it until this entire thing is over.

Turns out Grind was right. It was my favorite brand. I tested out all of the other guns, mostly just AJ rifles and pistols, a rare shotgun here and there. There was also a PP pistol that shot red and blue lit up bullets. Apart from the bullets being different colored when shot through the gun, it didn't appear like much as was special about it. Grind tells me we can sell the rest of the guns to a merchant or Stock for some extra bits. They pay good money for guns and equipment apparently.

But back to my lovely FS Pistol. It was... cute. Yes, I just called a weapon that could remove a pony's life in a bloody scathe, cute but hear me out. It was an adorable little thing that had an optional mount to be put on a hoof apparatus. The second option I had was to shoot it from my mouth, which after some practice, I actually became a decent shot. I would probably have to find an apparatus to use it appropriately though. Unlike its rifle counterpart, this one was a shiny yellow color with the top of the gun being coated in pink. I smile a little looking it, it was just... cute. Shut up. I know you're laughing at me.

The pistol kind of had a hard recoil in my mouth, making me see stars the first time I used it. Luckily the trigger was much softer than the one designed for hooves and designed in a way where my tongue could almost accidentally press the trigger if I was to just glide past it. And once it fired its first shot it became as light as a feather in my mouth, every shot barely giving me any whiplash. The best part about this was I would be able to walk and shoot with this gun.

I smile at my find and Grind pulls a random AJ rifle from the pile to add to his weaponry. We stow the rest equally between us to sell and buy whatever at the next shop we find.

We cross the rickety bridge with a little effort, almost scared that it would collapse beneath us. We finally make it to the front door of the town. A lovely little sign presumably written in blood greeted us, 'TROVE HUNTERS. BUCK OFF AND KILL YERSELFS. UR NOT WULCOME!'

"I'm not a Trove Hunter," I comment at the sign. "I'm a farmer,"

"Yeah, neither am I actually. I'm just here to protect Bordertown," Grind grinned at me and I grind back. Looks like we're not Trove Hunters. The sign doesn't apply to us. We enter Bottom Drop Alley, home of the Scab Lickers.

I didn't realize it has grown so late as we entered the town. The little city came to life, torches and camp fires lining the main road. Each side of the main road had shoddy looking buildings made of metallic scraps and such that looked like they were stolen off the side of trains. All of them were different colors too, some were red, some were blue, some were green, but all of them had a layer of rust that made it look a certain age. I wonder how long this little town has existed and how long Fat Stab ruled it with his hoof?

We decide to take comfort inside a restaurant while we planned our next move. The ponies here were definitely tormented. They moved with a sort of nervous jitter as if one wrong step and they would find themselves in a fate worse than death. Like an over bearing parent would punish their kid for messing up on something so trivial. Yeah, I've been there guys. Luckily, we're here to end that. I couldn't help but feel psyched up to kill some bandits with Grind. These monsters deserved it. I kept telling myself that they deserved it and I know that they do, but I also know that they have emotions and lives just like me, which kept making me feel incredibly guilty as we tore through a small village population on our way here.

"Hey, you okay Kale?" Grind took notice of my doubt and reached a hoof over to comfort me. "I know you feel bad for them, but we have to kill them. They put this on themselves," Grind motioned his head towards the doors. I knew he meant the Bandits, but I needed him to clarify it. "The bandits of course. These bastards killed my father, innocent ponies who never hurt no pony, and even some zebras. Zebras hardly trust us ponies so far from Equestria, now these Bandits ruined any chance of us having a normal relationship with them," He laments while playing with his gun. I blink a little, surprised at his logic. It made sense.

I try to distract myself with the restaurant itself. Bowling pins hung from the wall as a means to decorate the place. Little wooden tables that were made from those things that was used to spool giant rope or cables or something littered the floor. We were luckily in one of the few booths. The restaurant was empty save for us of course. And for the menu, it didn't seem like the citizens of this town was the primary customer.

The booth itself was worn down, the colors on the seat and backrests were faded to an almost white color. Holes that were picked at from years of no self control kids covered the seat. The table itself was chipped and scratched, as if a pair of knives danced did a waltz on it. I look back at Grind who was reading the menu carefully. I took one look at the options and decided to stick to bread and whatever meat Bordertown carried. I can't imagine that the Bandits had 'refined' tastes.

I look at Grind and I imagine what his child hood could have been. Was his dad always a Trove Hunter? It seemed like he was born out here, or at least brought here at an early age. Everything seemed so normal to him. Again, listening to colt bands and hating school was my thirteenth year on this earth. He seems so intent on the menu like we didn't just kill a bunch of ponies and were planning to add a bunch more to Tartarus pits. He looks up at me and sees that I'm looking at him while being deep in thought. "Thirteen huh?" I raise an eyebrow at him, still a little shocked at his age.

"Why, how old are you?"

"Seventeen," I say nonchalantly.

"Ever kissed a pony before?" He says, scooting a little closer to me in the booth we're in. Geez, we're jumping straight to that are we?

"No. I'm asexual, thank you very much." I won't lie, I was a little aroused, but still all that sweat freaked me out. And he was a little attractive... and also the age of a school kid. Yeah, that turned me off immediately. When I was thirteen, I was in school, delivering Equestria Daily newspapers to ponies in Canterlot, and listening to Neigh Sync. He was killing ponies and hitting on somepony four years older than him. Ugh. I hate the Cannerlands.

"Oh. Huh. Sorry," Grind gave me some space and scooted back to his side of the booth. At least he wasn't a sleaze. I wasn't above kicking him in the shins, or somewhere else that would probably have a serious complications in his growth.

Our waitress trots on by, a yellow mare with orange curls wearing a dress that was similar to the wallpaper at Cass's Inn. "H-hi there strangers. How can I-I he-help you fine folks?"

"Yeah, I'd like your biggest bucket of Heart Attack Chicken," Grind ordered. I noticed our waitress was on the edge of losing it. She constantly checked the door as if to make sure somepony important was to trot through. She looked at me expectantly though, half distracted by the entrance of her restaurant.

"Where's Scab Lickers' Hideout?" I ask. Again, never one for subtlety. The waitress stepped backwards as if I just slapped her and insulted her family. "We're here to take up the job offer to end the Scab Lickers." I fib. That HAYS disc was probably sent out to several Trove Hunters in the area. The fact this pony looked as if the end of her world could walk through that door makes me feel no one was even close to successful at taking down the Scab Lickers.

How in over our heads were Grind and I?

"I... end of town... big skull...." She whispered. I nod and Grind shot me a look.

"We still get the Heart Attack Chicken right? Uncle Stanley said they were the best things here," Grind said, his mouth practically a waterfall at this point dripping onto the table. Disgusting.

It was then that the waitress pony grabbed at Grind's chest, with uncontrollable excitement. "Stanley? Deadshot Stanley?! Did he send you wonderful ponies?" She asked, her eyes pleading for a certain answer. Grind gives me a look and I nod at our waitress. "Thank goodness! I was losing hope that he died somewhere off in Wastes! Tell me, did he mention me at all?" She pushed some of her mane out of the way. Eek. Just a bunch of sex talk today. Grind didn't quite get it and shook his head before I could answer. She gave a little pouty face and I try to get her attention.

"He was more concerned about making sure this little town is safe. Do you perhaps know a place where we can crash for the night while we get our game plan set up?" Her gaze brightens and she nods vehemently.

"Yes! We have rooms upstairs. Any friend of Stanley's that can drive these bandits out once and for all, is any friend of mine!" Gee, what a specific condition to be your friend. I bite my tongue, trying not to let my frankness slip. "Let me get your free bucket of Heart Attack Chicken on da house!" She smiles, her eyes twinkling at us. Something told me we were trotting into a trap of some sort. She was being openly receptive and we had no idea who was on Scab Lickers side. I look over at Grind to voice my concern but he was still looking at his menu, drooling over that picture of Heart Attack Chicken. Hopefully we didn't wake up in Fat Stab's hooves.

"Well I assumed you two were a couple," Our waitress opened a door to what was probably the biggest room we thought was in this restaurant, heck the town. The walls were a red velvet kind of color. The bed was in the middle of the room and a small little lantern hung above the wall illuminating the room just enough to see in front of you. Grind looks at me with a happy grin and I quickly turn to the waitress.

"I'd rather have sex with you than have sex with him," I announce, making both the waitress and Grind look at each other with a mix of jealousy, envy, shock, and awe. I'd assume that mares would have way less sweaty sex. Mares are much more mature that stallions after all.

"Um. Wellifyouneedanythinghere'sthekeytolockyourdoortomakesureyouguyshavesomeprivacyokgoodluckbye." I've never seen a pony make a quicker escape in my entire life, and I don't think I ever will. Our waitress throws a silver key onto the bed and shuts the door behind her, leaving awkward glances between Grind and I. There was only one bed in here, if you could call a mattress with a giant red stain on a rusty rickety riled up bed frame a bed.

A few moments later, our waitress came back to drop off some sheets without as much as a word to either of us. Probably still embarrassed about my earlier statement. I let out a laugh which draws an odd look from Grind. I don't even bother telling him the punch line, he'd probably think I'm even stupider for the reason. Oh this place. I was going to end up being a Psycho at the end of all of this, whatever this was, I was sure of it.

I keep the silver key in my saddle bags, but not before making sure it did actually lock the door. Can never be too careful. Grind turned around and opened a small door that a little bird could fit through behind him. It turned out to actually be a window, letting out a nice breeze into the room. I really hope the bed sheet covered up the red stain.

"So, if you promise to stay on your side and not try to..." I trail off hoping he got the message, "Then we can share the bed." The bed was definitely big enough. I began to shed off my saddle bags and I run a hoof through my mane. Ugh, today has been... definitely a day.

"Nah, nah, you can go ahead and take the bed," He was still deep crimson color from our conversation before.

"Dude, if it was about the sex comment, I was joking. Still asexual," I grin at him, hoping he could take the bait and laugh along with me. He shook his head.

"No, no, it wasn't about the... sex... comment," He blushed a little deeper. "I can just sleep on the floor. You probably need the room on the bed anyways..."

"Stop being stupid," I look at him plainly. He looks back up at me as he fidgets with his hooves. "We can both stay on the bed. We need to be well rested for tomorrow. I can only imagine we are going to have a bunch of..."

"My dick is doing weird things whenever I imagine myself cuddling up with you," He finally comes out with it, his voice lowering as he continues to get more embarrassed, "I just don't want it poking you..." Oh, I'm sure that is the least of my concerns, Grind. I bury my face in my hooves. I am not getting paid enough for this. Five hundred bits is a lot of money, but I would have to tell Sheriff that I needed a little more money for a convenience fee or something. This was... not happening.

"Just... face the other way." I end up telling him. I really couldn't have him sleeping on the creaky wooden floor boards. That wasn't going to be comfortable at all. He needed to be well rested for our funeral tomorrow, as well as Fat Stab's. Something shot up in my heart, maybe we had a chance? Maybe we can actually take down this Bandit Hideout. Maybe. Grind did pull off that miracle earlier...

"Hey, how in Celestia's sparkly mane did you live earlier? I could have sworn I saw you die," He disappeared off of my HAYS device. I needed to figure out what the heck happened.

"Whose Celestia?" He asks with a tilt of his head.

"Just answer the question,"

He shrugs and pulls out his shotgun, pretending he was back on the edge of death, "The Bruiser was rubbing his kill on me in my face. I aimed the shotgun and wiped the smile off, as well as most of his head as well," He grins at me and I couldn't help but flinch at the thought of half of a pony's head being blown off. "A rush of adrenaline just surged through me and I jumped back on my hooves to help you out," He shrugged again.

Huh. Must have been a second wind. I can't imagine us getting that lucky that often, so better not test that theory out more than we need to. "Look, I'm exhausted. Just do whatever you need to on your side of the bed, and make sure nothing splashes on me," I shiver. Those lessons in school also made sex look scary and quite messy.

"Splashes on you?" Grind gave me that adorable look of innocence.

"Just... nevermind. Let's just go to sleep,"

"No! C'mon! Tell me! What do you mean 'splashes'?"

"Forget I said anything!" I felt the blood fill my face as my entire body gets hot despite the cool breeze entering the room.

"C'mon!" He continued to plead like a little kid. We set the bed up, and thankfully the leopard print bed spread covered the red stain perfectly. He continued to plead when I turned the flame down in the lantern.

"I'm going to bed. Good night," I yawn out.

"I'll poke you with my dick,"

"Good. Night."

"I... am actually terrified of tomorrow. This would be impossible for anypony, my dad included... I don't want to die like my dad. I don't want to die period. I don't know why I thought coming along with you was smart. It isn't. I... the train was the place where my dad could live. And not be a Trove Hunter. Every night he would cry after he took down a bandit camp and helped the our zebra communication. I never understood why he cried. But I think it has something to do with your reason why you wouldn't let me kill that bandit today. But I don't want to die. I don't want you to end up like my dad." A pause, followed by some sobs. "But something, somebody, maybe your friend Celestia you mentioned earlier... I know I can follow you and you will help keep me safe. I think... I know you can take down this bandit hideout. I know you can kill Fat Stab and his ponies. I know all of this. I believe that you can do this. That you will lead us to victory or something heroic like that. Just like Daring Doo does..." Grind's voice trails off and I hear more sobbing. I try to still my ears. This was private despite him telling me this. He had no idea I just listened to him pour his heart out. Whether he actually wanted to tell me this or not, I couldn't say. It was something that I learned the hard way when a I stayed over at a friend's house and she confessed her love for me.

The most awkward slumber party ever.