Fallout Equestria : Giselle

My name is Giselle. I'm pretty sure it's a Germane name. It means pledge, or a mutual commitment. Kind of ironic actually, neither of those things describe me all that much. I've always been one to just roll with the punches. Not really wanting to invest in any long term things. Some would call that a bad thing, I call it a quirk. And that little personality quirk of mine has never caused me any trouble before, so I don't really care. I have a few other interesting quirks. I have this nasty little habit of getting myself into trouble. Lets just say in the Equestrian wasteland... I've grown accustomed to take things that don't really belong to me. Survival of the fittest right? And since I obviously have a talent for sneaking around and taking things, naturally I've learned how to pick locks. It can be very hardy. What else may one say about yours truly? I'm a heart breaker. I could probably seduce the most asexual thing in Equestria, and do it so well they come crawling back to me. That's how good I am. I'll admit my karma isn't great, but it's not karma that matters, its reputation. If folks know you as a kind hearted creature sent to save them from the goddesses themselves, then they'll treat you as such. If they know you as a bad to the bone trouble making scum bag then that's how they're gonna treat you. Trust me, I know from experience. And when you have an appearance such as my own, reputation and first impressions are very important. After all, it isn't every day you see a lone griffon wandering the Equestrian Wastelands. Yes I'm a griffon. I for one think it's pretty awesome. I don't know, being seen as an intimidating and rare occurrence is kind of an ego boost. I have a primarily black and grey coat. My head is covered in white feathers, all except the feathers around my eyes. Those to are black. I lost my leg in a flying accident a while back. Lucky for me the doctor I saw did limb replacement for a reasonable price. So now I've got a rad looking metal replacement for one of my front talons.

Enough about my personality and appearance though. Now to the important part, the beginning of our story. I often take up work as a gun for hire around the wasteland. A personal escort if you will. To make sure a pony got to their destination safely. One day I leading a small group of ponies through a rather dangerous part of the wasteland, so I decided to scout ahead for ay signs of danger. The area was raider territory, and I wasn't about to put the ponies that had already paid me for my services at risk. That would be seriously bad for business... What? A griffon needs her priorities, and me having a job is certainly one of them. Anyways... I was scouting ahead when I heard screams from my group. I flew back as fast as I could but when I returned they had been killed. All of them... no mercy shown. My first instinct was to loot the bodies and pretend none of this had ever happened. But no. I may be operating in a moral gray area, but I'm not a monster. So I looked around for any clues as to who did it. I found nothing, nothing but a post card, from New Pegasus. The strip. Bunch of low life chem addicts and gamblers those lot. This whole fiasco of a escort job actually didn't phase me. As sad as it was, it wasn't a shocker that this sort of thing happened. Especially in Raider territory. Ponies are constantly dying around here... Murder, rape, thievery. Those are some of the terrible things that go down in the wastelands. But what more could you expect? It's the apocalypse. You need to fight to survive. So of course this little occurrence didn't surprise me. I assumed it was a raider or such. Maybe one of those Pony Ganger plot holes. That group of crime making gang bangers were always a thorn in the side. But still... something definitely rubbed me the wrong way about this. Just couldn't put my talon on it. I tucked the New Pegasus post card into my coat and took one last look at this failure of an escort mission. I spotted a young filly who had unfortunately been on this escort, something inside me ached for this Filly. I picked her up and placed her on my back. The first thing that I was gonna do when I got back to town was get this filly a proper burial.

I flew away, with the one clue I had found in my coat pocket, and a poor child caught in raider gunfire on my back. And that, is how my story begins.