Fallout Equestria: Dragon Fire

Not 200 meters from our location was a road, probably made of compacted dirt. It happened to snake past the mound concealing Stable Z by sheer dumb luck as there were no discernible buildings or camps in sight. They thankfully had no idea we were here. I took my eye from my scope to meet the scrutinizing gaze of my superior.

“So this is how it is going to go down.” Brushfire said as all of us dropped low behind some cover. “We know nothing of their intent and have explicit orders not to compromise the Stable’s position to surfacers. We are going to watch them leave, maintain our composure and proceed undetected.”

We looked on with an understanding but pained gaze. A half minute conversation could provide more intel than a whole week's worth of sleuthing, but it was for the best. We agreed, sat down and started to think of ways to kill time. Thankfully I had a job to do and with great care removed the briefcase.

“Good Idea June.” Brushfire said. “You and Oxide will keep an eye on the caravan, the rest of us will stay put, don’t want to be too visible after all. Oh and June,” I looked up from the quickly assembled and fragile camera. “Put on your darn helmet.”

I flushed, it’s not my fault that thing is uncomfortable! Regardless of what the dust military pamphlets said it was more akin to bowling ball than anything else.

The initial overwhelming buzz started to wear off on everyone as I moved to take up my position. The rock was… warm as my fur touched it. The world outside seemed temperate, dry and in the middle of spring but I could only assume. Many Stable goers elected to forget their basic education of the outside. I had to distract myself from going insane somehow though, so after reading half the books in the library, I found myself reciting a heavily edited version of said texts to my brother. He always enjoyed a good story, even if I didn’t exactly know what I was talking about.

The camera showed my targets. Most were dressed in almost nothing but some practical tatters with a few pockets and holsters for rusty guns. A mare led the disinterested group with her head high, constantly scanning for potential threats. She had a spiked helmet and wore battle saddles with some nasty looking fully automatic weaponry. Thick brown barding covered her head to hoof, probably made from some kind of hide rather than pre-war polymer composites like we had. Other than that there were what, 14 wagons and a total of 19 zebras in all? Not really that significant but they were definitely zebras and not ponies. So did they win the war? Are there even any ponies left? Just how bad was the catastrophe that happened on equis if everything around here was green as can be?

Meh, questions… I took 6 pictures total, two of the lead mare, two the rest of the caravan itself and one of the landscape; Turnip would love to know what the clouds up here looked like. Ducking, I stowed the camera once again and after that all that was left to do was wait.

Turns out they weren’t in a hurry. Oxide kept watch while the rest of us waited inside the confines of the cave with nothing to do. I fumbled with my pipbuck noticing that a few new stations as well as their names popped up. ‘Mount Olive’ was the only one of the 3 that was known. I made the conscious decision not to play them aloud. 10 minutes after they passed it was decided that we were going to keep moving.

In all honesty, the glamor of the surface was not something I thought I could ever get over. It was busy with greens and yellows and an arrangement of insect noises to the point that it was overwhelming- but I think we all pushed through our collective headaches and kept moving.

“Why did everything get red all the sudden?” Jaguar said while we trotted low to the earth in the opposite direction of the caravan.

My interest was suddenly peaked as I too noticed the sky changing color. “Oh!!! Its got to be the sunset!” She looked at me flatly.

“And where is the sun? I don’t see it even though it was supposed to be in the sky.”

“It's probably just… behind some clouds or something.” What was I speaking another language here?

“Regardless of where the sun is, it’s going down and going to get dark soon. Use your flashlights as little as possible when the moon comes out-” Brushfire said before almost tripping on something huge running in between his hooves.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!” Topaz yelled as a giant roach thing shuffled off into the safety of the bush. She immediately swung her weapon around.

“Hold your fire!” Brushfire said sternly before anything was let off on account of shaky legs. “You wimps, you were about to give away our position! And over a stupid bug? Toughen the fuck up already!”

“... Sorry I just didn’t know-”

“-What to do, yea I get it. Your inexperience is going to get us killed if you aren't careful.” It sounded as though he was referring to all of us. Funny, it was his first time on a mission as well.

Topaz shrank to the back of the pack with her head low. Nimbus took point with Brushfire, I couldn’t tell what he was thinking, what with the power armor on and all, but odds are he wasn’t enjoying this either. We continued parallel to the road until we reached a river that had been quietly audible for some time. It was a tiny little thing that sparkled with the late day reflections from above. Fed from the mountain to our west, it was shallow enough you could walk across without issue and surrounded by rush and reeds. The more interesting sight lay at the mouth of the flow. Another few kilometers down the gentle stream was a huge body of water mostly obscured by waving trees on the twisting shoreline.

Night was bearing down swiftly. Just minutes prior we could see the entire landscape, now there were shadows that crept from the titanic twisted timber to the dusty dirt below.

“Hey Brushfire, uh shouldn’t we try and go a ways up that mountain and get some birds eye pictures? Since we are scouting and all…” My voice crackled. “And I think we should probably take a quick break or something soon, I’m a bit thirsty.”

“I was hoping for some indication of a settlement nearby, but it's been nearly an hour and still nothing. I agree, heading into the forest and spending the night there will make us less of a target overnight and we may even get a good view of the surrounding area. But no break until I say so is that clear?”

Shesh. “Fine I have to a piss, you happy now?”

He grunted. “Make it quick AFTER we cross the road.”

I didn’t. It was a nice 5 minutes of relaxation after all of that marching with way too much gear. I finally got to sit down on a weirdly squishy rock and rub the developing sores out of my legs. The grasses of the small clearing wobbled with the wind. I gazed up and began to see a few pins of light developing in the purple sky. Most of the clouds were gone at this point and I could have sworn I saw the sun for a moment before it ducked behind the mountain.

That thing had to be mount Olive which as far as we were concerned was the only thing around here that actually had a name… Everything up here needed a name. I pissed on at least a dozen different types of grasses and what appeared to be at least one fungi which I think I killed. Ops. The point is that there were too many new things everywhere, none however were as alarming as the blinking caution sign stuck at the top of my vision.

We had gotten training on how to use our pipbucks for combat. All I needed to know though was that caution = bad. I levitated my 9mm ironshod firearms pistol by my side and bolted back to the group.

“Woah! Calm down there Torbernite. What wrong?” Brushfire asked but not before everyone paled.

“Weapons at the ready.” He whispered turning on his light as a gust swept over the group which had formed into a circle facing outward towards the much thicker brush that was only about 20 meters away.

A quiet shrill noise echoed far away as the pattering of little feet drew our attention. The night was completely permeated with rattling life. Croaks were heard near ponds and chirping crickets were everywhere. None of this helped our resolve any. Nothing came out for a good minute even though my indicator still said caution.

“W-what do you think it is?” Oxide asked jittering while aiming from one bush to another.

“Could just be more bugs…” I looked at my compass and saw red marks to our south. “There!” I huffed wheeling my pistol closer. Not a thing.

“Damn it! We can’t just wait here for something to happen!” Nimbus let out a remark before a beetle, wider than a pony and covered in a gold and brown carapace skittered towards us.

“Shit!” Oxide fired a trio of bullets from her rifle causing it to erupt in liquidy black gore. Welp no eating for me any time soon.

The caution sign remained and everyone was somehow even more jittery than before regardless, of the fact that it was a suppressed shot and the thing was no longer anything but a mashed pile of slime.

“... Now what?” I asked still pointing my gun at anything that could be hostile. More red dots kept showing up!

“We need to move.” Brushfire said- I mentally seconded the motion. “We will be safer by the coast of that lake. Head back to the road and then we will make a break for an open area we can fight from.” It was getting absurdly dark at this point as the last of twilight faded.

We were quickly on our way running northwest along the delightfully flat ground and sure enough, past a tuft of trees, was the lake plus a continuation of the path running alongside. A steep slope of a meter separated the road from the stagnant smelly water. Maybe I was just used to the cleanest of the clean when it came to good old H2O but dang this place stank.

The shore on the other side was too far away to be anything but the silhouettes of distant hills. Unfortunately there was nowhere to hide. Brushfire skid to a stop and turned around back the way we came.

“Crap, we need to- I-” He cursed under his breath as he mounted a bigger gun than the SMG he was rolling earlier. “Get up to that tree line!” He gestured with his head towards the lip of elevated trees that separated the immense savanna from the road. Each of us took up positions while I kind of just flopped behind a tree while my pistol dangled in midair enveloped by a green glow.

Gazing to my sides, Topaz and Jaguar stood side by side aiming around the massive tree trunk. It was hard to tell but I think they may have actually been smirking. Oxide on the other hoof was down in the dirt, pistol on the ground beside her and rifle aimed into the field without a smile to be found.. Nimbus and Brushfire were standing like stone statues.

What the hell was I doing out here! I didn’t care anymore about this darn mission. We should have headed back and stayed in the cave the moment we saw other people.

“If anything red comes over that hill light it up!”

“Oh god I’m not ready to kill!” I squawked which rendered a scolding by Brushfire.

“Just…” He stopped. Why I didn’t know but his brows softened before he snapped his head back.

They came with a scratching sound, not unlike a thousand tapping pencils dancing quietly seemingly emanating from all directions. More bugs- beetles actually- that looked as though they were made from crusty dirt, scrambled into view with their pincers snapping from thirty meters away. In that first moment any quarrels we had about being exposed to the world beyond our little Stable left us as we open fired.

The pair shot short bursts of deafening bullets smashing them to smithereens only to have the dead ones be replaced instantly by more of the creatures moving swifter than before.

I lost track of what was happening after that- there was more gunfire- more red dots that chilled my body and made my brain scream- Splashed of color and light on the faces of the people around me. I cowered with my hooves over my ears and counted the only thing I could in an effort to calm down in between chattering teeth.

“One, Two, T-Three, Four, Five-” One got close enough for me to see with a quick tilt of the head before it exploded in goo. “...Six?” I stopped counting yellow dots as something moved down the road, but it wasn’t a bug.

Galloping the stranger reached shouting distance and yelled.

“What are you fools doing!” She had a staccato to her voice that was obviously of zebra origin, unsurprising what with her stripes and all. “Why have you angered the mud crawlers?” I was the only one that paid her any attention. My stare told her enough.

“Move!” She walked past the tree line much to the displeasure of everyone. I didn’t dare stand up but I watched nonetheless as the gunfire stopped. Standing on two legs she fished out a gourd which she proceeded to hurl between us and the creatures.

Whatever it was contacted the ground and erupted into a blue then green fire that formed a formidable wall as she turned to face our embarrassed party. The red bars began fading to yellow and then disappeared completely.

“Who are you?” She walked up and commanded gazing between us with a tilted head.

“So much for first impressions!” Nimbus said back to the rest of us. I would have said that if it wasn’t for the slight panic attack thing.

“That's none of your concern.” Brushfire did the predictable thing and shot Nimbus a look.

“Is that any way to treat a new friend?”

“Ohh boy…” I managed to say as the hyper ventilation began to make my limbs tingle and my eyes go fuzzy.

“Torbernite?”

Cue really pathetic black out.

It was a bit brighter when I next opened my eyes. There was a small campfire in front of me and I lay stripped of weapons and armor. On the other side of it was the zebra who gave me an inquisitive look.

“What happened!” I said bolting upright, startling Jaguar who was sitting on a log beside me.

“Luna! Don’t do that June!” He brushed it off quick enough but wore a face of disdain. “You fainted for half an hour.”

“We had introductions. I go by Galeria." The mare said between sips of her tea. She wore a different kind of silk, something smooth but concealing. She could have been a queen for all I knew. "I did not want to ask your name from anyone other than you.” She stood and bowed her head slightly.

“... June Torbernite.” I halfheartedly said as the small chaotic chirps of the insects around us slowly returned to my ears.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance outsider June Torbernite.”

“... yea.” I muttered not sure of I just offended her or something. Hopefully no one had spilled the beans as to who we were- I don’t know why we would have but it was the first thing that came to mind.

I stood slowly shaking the dust off my side and stumbled only to be caught by at least three people.

“I’m fine guys… really just give me some space.” They let me go and I began pacing slowly around the fire and slightly away. It may have made a pleasant crackling but something about this open radiant flickering heat was just off putting. Probably just the fact I had never seen a fire bigger than what sits on top a candle.

There was little to see beyond what the light of the camp fire touched other than what was directly above us. Apparently the clouds had cleared to reveal the spilt milk of the galaxy and all its shards of light that twinkled like nothing ever before seen by equines… Or some other poetic stuff don’t judge alright. The point is, it was dark, insanely dark and beautiful. A brilliant light blue orb began its ascent above a hillside. It too was unreal in its clarity.

At some point in my awestruck stupor, Brushfire came to sit down in front of me which was unexpected to say the least.

“June…” He looked over his shoulder into my eyes. “Point and pull the trigger next time.” I choked.

“Yes sir.” My voice didn't waver.

The silence was filled with the crackling as Galeria watched on without conveying much. Someone coughed.

“So we are staying the night here I take it?”

“If you would care to listen to stories around the hearth that can be done. If you would like to learn of this land and what creatures you should do best to avoid without resorting to violence, that can also be done.” She certainly came off as a respectable mare, even though she didn’t have much other than some overstuffed saddle bags and dangling one person cookware.

“Why did you help us?”

“I saw no reason not to help a pack of scared ponies.” The way she said that… none of us were full blooded ponies, though I supposed we certainly talked and walked like them that's for sure.

“Hey!” Topaz popped, “I am a zebra, let's get that straight alright?” Race was a touchy subject? Who knew! As if reading my mind she gave me a deadpanned look. “Some of us have culture you know.” Galeria must have found something funny as she let out a giggle.

“Fortunately I used to be a farmer. I know all about horticulture!” She walked to my side and looked Topaz in the eyes. “Would you like me to teach you which leaves are better left away from your backside?”

Was that an insult? That had to have been an insult, or a joke. I don’t know. “Zebras are weird.” I mumbled much to my instant regret.

“Dear, all people are strange, for whoever thought that a stamp on ones side could decide your destiny?” She gestured to my now revealed cutie mark. A strange glyph with a yellow radiation symbol over top. “Or that a stripe or horn or wings could decide your kin?” Topaz backed off at that grumbling to herself.

“Oh! I actually have just the story of the mountain zebras who lived at the base not far from here and were cursed to endure solitude with their longest rivals as slaves to an army of their brothers and sisters. Tis a tale of woe and a true one at that.” She looked around for objections and found none before returning to the other side of the fire with a smile. Brushfire huff disinterestedly, took up his weapons and looked out into the blackness of night. A moment later she poured a few specks of dust into the fire changing it to a much darker blood red.

She sat in a meditation pose, similar to what I had seen in some books. If she was going to do what I thought she was, then she knew the (assumed) lost art of fire puppetry. Hey I may have been a unicorn but I knew the simple stuff about zebra folklore.

Rocking to one side she rose a forehoof gracefully before bringing it cascading down to the ground with immense force. In that instant an image arose of galloping equines.

“Long ago in the magical land of Roam…”

There lived a village at the foot of the olivine mountain. This meager village was well known for its hospitality and for the temple they kept at the summit, dedicated to the gods of plenty and wine. Every year they would have a festival on the summer solstice to drink what wine they could and welcome travelers from afar as this little village was distant from the bastion of civilization.

There were games for the children, music for the lovers and stories of the founding of this place from even longer ago, when we were but a simpler people. Food was sold or given by the trough for all and the merriment went on until sunset when the people would put aside all differences to pay their respects to the dying maiden of the sun, for her time to rule over the longest day had come to pass. With their mourning and placing of flowers a new celebration began.

Again as the moon rose there were games and food and wine, but now it was done in the name of Moon goddess to quell the wrath that would soon enough be coming with the wet season and the subsequent winter. An outsider would see little difference in the festivities other than the types of wine or perhaps a ceremony or two, but the residents of this fell village knew what was to come.

Soon they would see days of nothing but rain, storms that made the weak sun blind and tore at the soil of their labors. The nights would frost and the floods would sweep many away with little notice. It was no longer to be a merry time.

Even as the gods destroyed so they planted the seeds of life. Every flood brought with it strong dirt, wherein the villagers grew in abundance with what alchemy they had discovered, for alchemy is not invented; tis not the natural way. Even still they survived and grew better at resisting the cruel duality of what the moon brought.

Ages passed until the villagers lived comfortably in homes of stone, far from the fields they tilled until the moon became not revered but an annoyance. The gardens of these zebras became grand and they became the wealth of all the land under the shadow of the great olive stone mountain. There they created art of the greatness of the sun and began once again to connect with what amounted to civilization for their day.

But as trade bloomed and their greed grew, they elected to forgo their respect for the moon and turn the night of the solstice into a drunken stupor of anger towards the goddess. Thus began the curse of the crimson starlight. Four stars converged one eve to signal her wrath as the moon changed.

One solstice morning, years upon years later, a messenger came from the capital of Roam dressed in the traditional garb of the Frumentarii, which by all rights, owed to them protection. The message told of an enemy from across the seas that had great magics different from that of the zebra. It spoke little of the rapidly growing threat but made mention of the necessity of tribute and later conscripts.

At first the village was slow to accept the rule and war of distant empires in its isolation. The now temple of the sun at the summit urged the village not to listen to the whims of the imperials and their distant pleas. So the village resisted until the strongest mare, a farmer with no family, agreed to leave as tribute. Thus the village was shown that sacrifice was necessary for their way of life to exist and the curse was to be lifted.

Alas this village had still forgotten its history as it was met with particularly brutal season. a mudslide destroyed a section of the temple during the weeks of rain with no sun. The great gardens were extinguished by a frost much sooner than they expected. Trade faltered and the village was at the edge of poverty. It was destined that they were to live how they once had, in hovels. Stricken by this lack of wealth many cursed the goddess’s name.

It is said that when spring arrived next, a sadness blanketed these lands from the sun overhead, however the village lived on.

On the next solstice, the morning brought with it an army. The mare had returned with stories of invading, plundering and death at the hooves of ponies. They had touched the soil of Roam and she had helped to drive them back. The once friendly neighbors had begun to shed blood. It was at last time for redemption! The village was to follow in the path of noble sacrifice to protect those that protected them from this new menace.

When the once villager returned and called for support however she was turned away. In disbelief they branded her a traitor and willed her never to return with gross tales of hate and war.

So the soldiers left with the sun, the festivities began and when the night fell, the village drew up their drunken profanities at seasons past. This was the last chance for redemption the goddess had given these villagers and they choose to sleep through her night.

The soldiers returned at dawn to take what was theirs in the form of conscripts. It was a short and bloody battle wherein the villagers realized they had no chance against the mighty weapons of Roam. Hundreds were taken and marched off in shackles. Even so, the village continued.

Through wind and rain and flood and pain the villagers strived to rebuild their temple greater than ever before in prayer for the love of the sun goddess. The columns were the most glorious this side of Roam and the statues, inlaid with every last piece of gold and jewel they had gathered rivaled even those of the emperors. As they finished on the first day of spring they wished for the power of the sun and the sun they received.

The spring was warm and clear and the solstice brought with it the willful conscription of ten to Roam by the banished one. They were bitter but knew better than to question the might of Roam. The festivities were the grandest in a thousand years and as the sun set and the moon rose, the heat did not leave.

It seldom rained, which led to drought but the zebra had little care for a slight drought as the season was no longer as dreadful as before. The heat that was prayed for continued until winter finally took hold. Things were good again for a few more years. Still the sun and moon wept and the worshipers could little understand why.

Time brought with it more tales of the horrors of war and the establishment of a fort on the eastern shore. Conscription increased and soon happened twice a year, then thrice until a railroad was established to their fair town and beyond to the great Reyzar bay port. No longer in isolation, dark magics began to pour into the village as it accepted the bitter things in life.

At last the turning point occurred. Tales of a truce gone in an instant ignited the anger of the now well armed village so they rose up once again. In the ensuing battle the banished Maiden died to in vain to prevent the blood shed. The village was victorious in its liberty for a short while.

Then the tanks came.

What came next needs little description. The remains of the village were populated by children and loyalists. Priests were mostly allowed to stay as the fields still needed to be tilled. All else were moved to the port to work in factories that grew to blot out the skies of the village with their smoke. Disease and famine came swiftly in the night.

The next solar celebration came with a whisper. There was music still, broadcast from the choirs of the heavenly temple by way of radio transmission but it was dark and wanting as opposed to jubilant and bright. The night was met with a solemn resignation that they had done wrong by the goddess of the moon. Once again they tried to appease her with sacrifice of what little valuables they had.

She would have been quelled that night, had it not been for tragedy far far away. The conscripts from the once village of the sun had not learned to respect the moon. A multitude of children were slaughtered in an attack against the moon princess of the ponies and with this gross display the moon’s hatred grew with a fury towards the zebra.

For years the ponies now fought under the rule of the moon wherein the bloodshed became the worst horror imaginable. Lines were drawn and broken, necromancy and evil magics lurked on both sides of the battle field as the machines evolved with more and more killing potential.

The slaves toiled in regret of their actions for years under the worsening conditions of Roam. They worked with enemy prisoners of war and discovered just whom they as a nation were fighting, scared equines just like themselves even though they looked a little different. These slaves would soon grow into the true redemption of the village.

One fateful night a new star appeared over the port. By morning it was shining almost as bright as the sun onto the lands below. This star was the gift of the sun promised through worship as vengeance for its sister. It was to bring with it the total destruction of the land beneath.

Not much is known of what caused the riots or how they escaped, but nevertheless ponies and zebras and griffons even worked together to shrug off their imperial overlords. Together the survivors ran for the village to pray for an end to the sweltering power high above them but to no avail. Realizing what this meant, many fled on the remaining trains west toward Roam or to the side opposite the olive mountain. Still others remained determined in their struggle to right the wrongs they inflicted on the sun and moon.

The final prayer was answered as more lights shot over head from the land of the ponies in the direction of Roam leaving white streaks in the air above. In one moment, closest to sunset, the hellish second sun unleashed its torrent of heat onto the Reyzar bay, vaporizing much of the military machines of Roam, the slave pits the friends had escaped from, and igniting the village and its inhabitants that did not leave. The temple of white, dedicated to the sun was burned to a charred black but remained intact.

The fires raged for months destroying the farms and the forests in all but the furthest corner of this secluded coast until, at last, the second star was gone. The land below was tainted in holy fire never to be tread again until the equines reconciled. But the world was not dead. In time it regrew and my tribe descended from the freed slaves living as nomads, left to mourn those who stayed in their village though they found repentance in death as there was little but ash left.

In a last show of faith the Solaris Ira were born of the bodies of the slain and the fires of the sun. But that, my friends, is a story for another day. I am a descendant of those who fled and learned from the harsh ways of war to live in a forgotten land after the world ended.

The party looked on with mild interest at the start but by the end when the campfire grew cold we were engrossed in every word she had to say. By its end there was no mistaking the similarities we had all been told of in our own history.

The people who founded Stable-z as we knew it were a combination of zebras and ponies that made up Celestia's spies in the Rayzor bay area. There were missions conducted out of the bunker that involved a few organized jailbreaks, assassinations and general sabotage, but nothing involving liberating an entire prison camp! For all I knew there wasn’t even a village close to the entrance to the Stable, I had seen the maps after all so maybe it was on the other side of the mountain?

“Well that was... dark” I said as she contacted her hooves together and banished the magic from the campfire.

“It is not always the happy stories that are worth being told. We learn from our mistakes as one people. I think you outsiders will find that these lands will have plenty of stories of the sort.”

“How do we even know this story is true? We never even got a name for the village.” Topaz said looking up intently.

“Look over yonder to the east, do you see the glow of those stars near the horizon?” She gestured where there were a variety of distant red glows that ended where the sky met the land. They were separate and seemed to flicker ever so slightly. “Those are not bonfires and if you spend long enough watching them you will see them move ever so slightly. The lands in that direction are very much cursed to endure eternal hell.”

She returned her eyes to me as I was putting back on my barding, can never be too safe after all, and continued.

“I supposed you may be some of the first I have had the pleasure to tell that story to other than children. Your interest, ignorance, voices and surplus of arms certainly could come across as more than a little suspicious in that case.” She regarded me with her intimidating eyes. I hadn’t noticed but every feature on her body was slim and athletic, undoubtedly she had spent a lifetime wandering around the surface.

“Are you implying some sort of hostile invasion?” Brushfire said thankfully tearing her eyes away from my burning face.

“Invasion?” She let out a laugh. “Where would you have come from? The sea to the north is near impassable, the east you clearly did not come from and the mountains are sealed since the tunnels collapsed centuries ago. I have already stated the wish to be friends, I do not know who you are and perhaps when you leave tomorrow I will never discover that. I have my inclinations however that we are not that different.”

“Then keep your hypotheses to yourself. We are grateful for your assistance, but do not push your luck.”

“I know a scouting party when I see one, but I think I will save you the trouble and say that you are both the most well armed and poorly trained troops I have come across.” Nimbus let out a huff. That wasn’t going to bode well back home.

“Well if you are so certain we are clueless then why don’t you fill us in?” Topaz asked.

“Hum…” Galeria stroked her chin with a hoof for a moment. “I could provide a map, and a very fine one at that.. for a price.”

“Name it.” Brushfire interjected.

“Well as your wandering eyes have no doubt concluded, my current rifle, though dear to me has nearly fallen into a state of disrepair. I request only Oxide’s rifle.”

Oxide herself was silent still looking into the fire as if entranced. Before long she let out a sigh and moved towards Galeria.

“You can’t give her your rifle! I won’t authorize this!” Brushfire said but Oxide didn’t break pace.

“You deserve more for being a friend to us even after we have shown nothing but doubt.” She took off the sling and hoofed it over to Galeria who bowed and proceeded to admire it finely.

“Do you know what kind of gun this is?” Oxide shook her head. “It's rare but of a zebra design which was lost after the war.” Galeria twirled it once before shouldering it and gazing down the scope away from the group. “I had one like this once, not nearly as nice, but none the less of the same design. My question is who modified it and how did they do so without catching fire.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh it is just that there is supposed to be a gem in this slot right here.” She pointed to a blackened area of the rifle where it looked like SOMETHING was missing, but I wasn’t an expert. “It allows the rounds to penetrate armor and some walls as if nothing was there at all and make every round an incendiary one. In all honesty you are most likely better off not having such a cursed item as they say these rifles hungered for flesh during the war.”

“You know, at first you didn’t strike me as all that threatening, but now I’m not sure if you're going to kill us or invite us to your home and party.” Jaguar stated plainly.

She reached into her pack and tossed a scroll to Brushfire. “I do my best to remain as innocuous as possible. There is an art to making friends after all. I trust you will find that satisfactory?”

On the scroll was a square map constructed on parchment. Precise calligraphy outlined the topography of the dense mountain ranges and surrounding hills. Several areas had labels or warning attributed to them. Just as many settlements barred crosses over them and in fact a disturbing amount of locations seemed to have been recently crossed out. The last I saw was the legend in the bottom left before he rolled it away, look over and nodded.

“Good then.” She turned and lifted her pack onto her back. “I suppose if you wish to see me again I will be in Florence for the next month or so. Consequently they will be your closest ally if you have the goods to trade and respect the old imperial ways.”

“You're leaving?” I finally managed to say something perhaps too desperately. I really just wanted another fascinating story.

“Yes dear. I travel at night as I have enemies in the day and as much love as I would love to stay and exchange stories some more, I do have a meeting I am supposed to go to.” She started to walk away before hesitating. “...If we do meet again in the future then I know nothing of you, and you do not have pipbucks.”

With that she left into the dead of night vanishing into the shadows. The cackling fire brought me back to reality. Brushfire wore a defeated look.

“We just let her go. Even with what she gave us, she played us. Hard.” He gestured limply to Oxide. “And what was that about disobeying my orders? Does anyone here respect me?” He spoke softer than I had expected.

“Well to be fair we didn’t have much time to learn and you don’t exactly act commanding-”

“Well of course not!” he said loudly tossing his short black hair. “I don’t-” He paused, “-want to come off as rude.” he muttered. “Hell this whole thing was supposed to be a simple political stunt where we look outside and go ‘oh look at this decrepit wasteland, guess we had better stay inside.”

That was the first time I had actually seen Brushy... ehhhh I will stay away from the pet names, Brushfire get at all emotional. Clearly the rest of the crew was having the same reactions, after all, we were in a foreign land with next to no skills and evidently doomed to die from something stupid.

There were some conversations, nothing particularly of interest and we collectively agreed to deal with the map the next day. We got settled around the campfire for the night. The events of the day finally took their hold and though I didn’t like it I did my best to fall asleep on the crusty cold ground. I didn’t want to get involved in anymore mope fests.

I was actually going to miss Galeria.

I was the heaviest sleeper and consequently the last to wake up. The cinders were warm enough to heat up some packets of dried apples which in my opinion was the best way to meet the morning. Oxide, Jaguar and Topaz sat at the edge of small clearing chatting about some nuances of the scenery. Brushfire and Nimbus, who was still in his suit, minus the helm and leggings, poked at the remains of last nights fire.

It was strange seeing this place in the twilight of the morning. The clouds were back and the sun was still very low in the sky. Purple light blossomed over the wind swept cradle illuminating greenery on the mountain far away. Thankfully we hadn’t moved very far from home.

The sleep out here in this fresh air was… good. Achy, but good. It took some time last night before I could collect my thoughts and whistle off to dreamland. I couldn’t stop imagining that second sun from the story in some eerily vivid detail. The whole adventure up to this point seemed too fantastical to be true.

One of the things that I found funny though was that the war was over and yet this place was so spectacular and uninhabited. It may have been a brutal place to live at one point but even with those bugs- those mud crawlers which apparently will leave you alone if you don’t shoot at them- this place was damn close to a paradise! No large mammals, not many dangerous reptiles, I had seen a snake or two but they didn’t bother with me, and it wasn’t a radioactive wasteland! I might have just wanted to stay to watch another sunset though to be honest.

We broke camp swiftly without a word after I woke up, I guess that was kind of the que after all, and marched back the way we came.

“Hey Brushfire?” I trotted up to his side, all this bouncing was making my helmet obscure my vision every other step. “I was wondering what we were going to do before heading back to the Stable, We should have like 2 extra hours after all.” We kept bumbling over the sandy soil for a minute before he spoke.

“There was a ridge-line behind the Stable that we should have surveyed. We are going to make our way back in that direction a ways before heading back.”

“Ah yes- right. That sounds like a good idea, sir.” He looked back inquisitively. Maybe it was more grudgingly. “... I’ll shut up now.”

“So do you think there would be any disagreements if we brought back some souvenirs?” Oxide apparently had taken a liking to a type of red and gold wildflower which grew in brambles. “I had been meaning to paint something new for once.”

“I don’t see why not, ‘long as it's not toxic or anything.” Jaguar said to the mare beside her.

"How would you know that?" Nimbus said.

“I could take a picture of one if you wanted.” I interjected after having fallen to the back of the group.

“Torbernite?”

“Yes?” I said happy to hear my name.

“It's a monochromatic camera.”

I promptly took that as another indication that I should bin it. I did take a few pictures of the landscape though every time we crested a hill. Mostly there were nothing but rolling plains though, not very interesting subjects.

It wasn’t long before we arrived back at the stable entrance, or rather the trees that marked the cave. I had managed to turn on the radio and tune to the Mount Olive broadcast without getting yelled at. They played some charming choir music in ancient Roaman which I couldn’t understand, but I could get the feel that some of the songs were happy. It was actually quite nice, even if I didn’t particularly believe in the princesses being goddesses, was this even about the goddesses? It was hard to tell. There might have been a ‘Celestia’ in there somewhere. The point was it was some religious chanting stuff which I felt no need to be compelled by. Reminded me of the chapel, though I hadn’t been there since I was twelve.

At the top of the hills past the stable we had to stop and take in the view. It was at a higher elevation than we had previously been. The grass had been fading as we made our way up top. Now it was no wonder why.

The view before us changed into that which we had first expected and prepared for. Far off the coast was visible as well as a significant portion of the smoldering remains of some buildings. Every stone was hot and looking closer it seemed the grass gave way to nothing but dirt. Near some of the installations there were warped jungle spires that somehow survived the intense heat of the area. I saw at least a dozen individual fires that desperately attempted to find more fuel where there was little.

All and all, the currently affected radius had to be wider than we could see, I was going to put out a guess of 15 km? Just to be clear, nowhere did I state to be an expert at megaspells.

“Welp, guess that story was right....” Oxide said.

“Tartarus... “ Nimbus said in his suit, he must have been roasting in that thing.

“What the hell did they put in those megaspells to make them last two hundred years.”

“From what I know and from the description Galeria gave… nothing should have been this powerful, but with any hope, the council can determine exactly what it was.”

I turned away from the carnage to see something I had least expected. Far away I could see no greenery to the north of Mount Olive. In its place was just a bright white field. I could hardly see it, even from our height but if I was correct then this wasn’t summer. This was, if anything, a cold spring.

The camera certainly got a lot of use while we stayed atop the hill. Turns out there was a bit more radiation then we would have liked so we had to turn back rather quickly. All and all this was going to make for one hell of a report.

End of Chapter 2

Footnote:
Level up!

You really suck at this fighting thing.

Panic: You have a % chance to be temporarily paralyzed by fear depending on your level and the level of your enemies. (this will be countered later by having friendlies)

You also get some observation skills because why not. Perception goes up by 1 to 8.