Fallout: Equestria: Honest Herds

Fallout: Equestria: Honest Herds

By sargecadet

Chapter 1: The Ambassador

“The Ghost Lands may not be lost to us, after all...”

In the White Hooves we have a saying: "Your greatest gift to the tribe is your story." If that's the truth, then in all my time growing up in the tribe I must have never have had much of a gift to give. But that’s all changed.

My tribe grew large and powerful after it left Vile Rock cave. Our ancestors, both pony and buffalo, conquered other tribes and assimilated them into our culture until we had created what tribe historians called a "super tribe." Little did our ancestors know that on the other side of the river that divides the Ghost Lands in half, another tribe, the Fire Hairs, had done the same. While we desired peace we soon found that they were too different from us to coexist. In their tribe earth ponies and buffalo were subservient to unicorns holding them under the sway of their magic. We're now at war.

Several years ago trader ponies from the north began visiting our tribe, and about one year ago two ponies who said they were ambassadors visited both sides of the river. They said they were scouts for some tribe called the New Canterlot Republic. One, a unicorn called Sergeant Bloodfire, came to us, spoke about the new and restored magical land our ancestors had escaped before balefire and dark magic consumed the world, and then left. The other scout was an earth pony who visited the Fire Hairs instead, and we never heard what happened to her, though we expected either slavery or death.

But enough about the tribe, I'm going to talk about myself now. My name is Fall Hammer-heart. I have a dad, a mom and three sisters. I'm the only earth pony in my family, the rest being unicorns. It sucked being the only one without magic because this excluded me from the one job the males in my family had always performed, the one job I really desired: being a thought-travel scout. Instead, like many other untalented earth ponies and buffalo, I was stuck with a late-shift job in the mines. All I did all day for five years was swing a pickaxe at a wall of ore deposits. I'd gotten so good at breaking rocks apart I discovered that, despite how much I disliked it, swinging a pick is my special talent. You can probably guess what my cutie mark is.

But don't get me wrong. Even though I hated my lot in life at least I was safe and I knew my family was safe. Not like now. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm Fall, and this is my gift.

My shift ended late that night. I was tired, covered in dust, and all I wanted to do was sleep when I got back to my family’s cabin.The walk back from the mine was always tiring after a long days work. I meandered down the path to Iron Hide, the village my family and I resided in.

Iron Hide is the newest village in our tribe’s half of the Ghost Lands. It was built because of the large amount of ore in the canyon walls nearby. The Chief relocated his camp here so that he could oversee our mining operations.

When I arrived home I attempted to open the door quietly to avoid waking everyone up. As I said, it was late. To my surprise I found my mom and sisters still awake, sitting at the table, sipping fan-root tea. I noticed that my dad wasn’t there.

First question. “Hey, mom,” I said, “why are you all still awake?”

“Oh, Fall, your home,” she responded, apparently surprised I'd gotten back, “We’re waiting for your father to get home, that’s all.”

Second question. “Well, um, where is he?”

My youngest sister, Cactus Flower, jumped in before mom could speak. “The Chief has dad working on some scouting thingies. He said something about that unicorn who came here from that republic place last year.” Mom glared at her for her interrupting, “Oh, sorry.”

That was enough information for me. It was late, I was tired, and I didn’t feel like talking anymore.

“Well, I’m going to hit the hay,” I announced, “Good night, see you all tomorrow.”

“Good night, Fall,” they all replied sort-of in unison, with an extra “Luna and the ancestors bless you,” thrown in by my mother. And with that I shrugged off my saddle bags by the door and fell into my pile of hay by the far right wall, and drifted off into a well earned sleep.

Little did I know it would be the last time I slept at home. The last night I would spend together with my family.

I woke up the next day to the frantic clatter of hooves and my older sister, Stream, yelling at me.

“Wake up, Fall, wake up!”

It felt early. I glanced out the window at the sun. It was early. My shift didn’t start for another five hours at least and I was still tired. I glared at my parent's favorite with all the hate I could muster in the morning.

“Why, in the name of the Goddesses and all that is holy," I said through gritted teeth, “are you yelling at me? What could possibly be so important that it can’t wait till later, when I normally get up?”

“The Chief is calling everyone in the tribe to a meeting,” she answered, still yelling, “It’s about something important. Now get up and make yourself look presentable!” She was smiling. I think she enjoyed forcing me to wake up early.

“Tell him I’m busy,” I groaned sarcastically and rolled away from her. She answered by levitating a bucket of water over and dumping it on me, which made my previously crisp bed of hay uncomfortably soggy. Did I mention that it sucks being the only one without magic? I stood up and let out a long sigh as I shook the water off and walked to the bowl of white paint my mom had set out. I stepped in it to cover my hooves and fetlocks. I never could win arguments with Stream anyways.

I finished up painting myself for the day about a few minutes later after applying stripes of white to my nose, ears, and shoulders, which is really hard when you have to hold the brush in your mouth. Applying the tribe’s markings has always been hard for me. At every tribe meeting or special ceremony I seemed to have the distinction of looking the crappiest.

“Hurry up, we’re gonna be late!” Cactus Flower shouted with her usual youthful excitement as she ran out the door. She never seemed to miss a chance to look adorable.

I, much less excited (the Chief’s speeches were almost always incredibly boring), walked behind the rest of my family at my normal speed. We trotted to the village center. Ponies and buffalo from all corners of our empire were there, standing clustered around their village flag. A cacophony of muttering filled the circle.

“I heard that the Fire Hairs crossed the river again,” said a rather fat buffalo mare, to which the unicorn stallion next to her replied, “Not a chance. I live in Sour Branch. If they crossed I would be dead.” “But what if they crossed elsewhere?” “They can’t this time of year.” An earth pony filly joined the conversation saying “My momma said that the Chief is going to cross the river to their side and beat up Salted Corn-Field and her entire army, all by himself!” which her mother responded to by saying “I didn’t say anything like that! Now stop making up...”

She was cut off by the sound of our tribes distinctive war trumpet. Two glowing balls of light spun around each other and lifted into the air, then exploded in a shower of multi-colored sparks, eliciting an excited “Ooh,” from the crowd. Tribe meetings usually didn’t include any fanfare. A swirling cloud of smoke appeared in the center of the crowd forcing those standing there to take a few steps back. With a loud pop the smoke cleared and there stood Chief Sand Horns (an old, massive buffalo warrior with scars covering his lower jaw) and Arch-Seer Night Minder (the perpetually tired looking river-green unicorn mare with a blue-gray mane and a cutie mark of a black arrow piercing a cloud). The entire crowd stomped their hooves in applause at the dramatic entrance until the Chief lifted his right fore-hoof to signal a need for silence.

Night Minder’s horn glowed and cast a green halo around the Chief’s throat. A volume spell?

“FRIENDS, BUFFALO, PONIES, TRIBES PEOPLE!” Yup, definitely a volume spell, “IN THESE DAYS OF TROUBLE, AS WE STRUGGLE TO BETTER OURSELVES AND ANNIHILATE OUR EVIL ENEMIES, WE MUST ALL DO OUR PART FOR THE TRIBE.” Cue applause, then a raised hoof for silence, “WE HAVE SURVIVED MANY YEARS AGAINST THE FIRE HAIRS AND HAVE BECOME STRONGER BECAUSE OF IT.” More applause, then the hoof again, “BUT FOR AS STRONG AS WE ARE, WE CANNOT WIN.” Worried murmuring. What in the Celestia's name was he talking about?

“THE ELDERS AND I HAVE STUDIED THE LAND, SCOUTED IT. WE CAN SURVIVE, BUT WE WILL NOT THRIVE AGAINST THE MIGHT OF THE FIRE HAIRS.” Shouts of things like ‘Oh goddesses, it isn’t true!’ and other cries rose up. “UNLESS... UNLESS WE CAN GAIN ALLIES.” Silence.

“THE ELDERS AND I HAVE DISCOVERED THE ONE WEAKNESS OF THE ENEMY: THEY ATTACK EVERYONE THEY MEET. WE ARE DIFFERENT!” he motioned to the Arch-Seer to stop the spell, “Last year, an scout from the north came to us and told us of a tribe that seeks the friendship of the White Hooves. They call themselves the New Canterlot Republic. Now I ask for your help.”

The crowed whispered to each other. I looked to my right at Stream who turned to me and shrugged. I looked at my dad who was on my left and he just gave me a knowing smile. Of course he knows, I thought, he’s on the elder counsel.

“I need one brave buffalo or pony,” the Chief said, “to be my scout.” special emphasis placed on my, “and travel the long and dangerous road north to the land where our ancestors lived two-hundred years ago. I will not anger the ancestors by lying, my their scouts tell me that there is a good chance that whoever goes may not return. I only ask that...”

I stopped listening. I knew what he was offering. The Chief was offering an adventure! When I was little my parents told me stories about great ponies in the past visiting places in old Equestria like the Everfree Forest, ponies slaying dragons, ponies vanquishing great evils that threatened to destroy the world. I was told the stories of the great buffalo warriors of ages past in tribal ceremonies. When I was old enough to read religious books like the “Story of the Goddesses” I read of how Celestia and Luna wandered the world and saved it numerous occasions. I grew up always wanting more than a life as a miner, more than an untalented earth pony, more than the tribe could give me.

I wanted to be special. I wanted adventure!

“...and that is why a volunteer is necessary. Thank you for your time.” the Chief finished his speech and I shot my hoof into the air.

“Chief Sand Horns,” I shouted with probably a bit to much enthusiasm and volume, “I will be your scout!”

And then everything got awkward. The Chief and the Arch-Seer stared at me. My family stared at me. The entire assembled tribe stared at me.

“What in a hell-cave full of Timberwolf shit are you doing?” Stream hissed at me, “Did you listen to anything he just said? Leaving the valley is pretty much instant death, you moron.”

“Son, this is a bad idea,” my father whispered. I couldn’t tell whether he meant the Chief’s plan or me being the one to do it.

“Chief Sand Horns, I wish to be...” I began saying but was cut off by the Arch-Seer.

“Child,” she said in the soft, serene, slow way that she was known for, “you are still young. Let a warrior of the tribe travel instead.”

I stomped my hoof, “No, wise one,” I argued while still trying my best to be respectful using the proper form of address, “the tribe needs all its warriors to defend it,” I was really just making up reasons on the fly, “I’m just a common miner. Please, I want to serve my tribe. It is my holy duty, given to me by the ancestors." They couldn't argue with that.

The Arch-Seer and the Chief glanced at each other. The Chief shrugged, then turned back to face me.

“Miner,” he commanded, “come forward.”

The Arch-Seer teleported the Chief and I back to the War Hall (which is a pretty jarring and uncomfortable sensation if you’ve never teleported before), and I found myself standing in front of a very large and very incomplete map. The Ghost Lands occupied about a quarter of it. The rest was blank.

“So, what now?” I asked.

“Now you learn what we truly ask of you.” the Chief sighed. He pointed to the far corner of the room, “You may explain,” he said to no one.

No, not no one. A shadowy earth pony mare with a jet black coat, a jet black mane, and jet black eyes with a cutie mark that looked like a big green mushroom emerged from the darkness. She was the freakiest pony I’d ever seen. She stared straight in my eyes, as if studying me, causing me to look away.

She addressed the Chief and Arch-Seer. “This is who you’re sending?” Ooh, that hurt.

“He volunteered, yes,” Night Minder answered defensively, “and no heart is stronger than that of a volunteer.”

The dark pony walked closer, put a hoof under my chin, and turned my head from side to side. She was really cold. I took a step back. She stepped back also.

“Well, kid, listen now and listen good. I’m from out there, the Wastes, beyond this little paradise ya’ll’ve got here and if you ain’t prepared for the shit the Wasteland will throw at you then I can guarantee that your gonna get your Goddess damned head blasted off, got it?” She yelled at me. Her words carried such vehemence that I felt like I’d been trampled by the entire tribe. Goddesses, could it really be that bad out there and that good in here?

I straightened myself up and stared down at her after I got a grip on myself. I cleared my throat. “Well then,” I retorted, trying to act the part of the tough buck, “teach me how to survive.”

She smiled smuggly. “Fine,” she turned to face the map, and pointed to the northern boundary of the valley with her hoof , “What your leader hasn’t mentioned to you is that your tribe is surrounded by your enemy, those Fire Hair unicorns and their mind-controlled drones.” I’m screwed, I’m screwed, I’m screwed..., “Fortunately for you, I scouted their camps and this one right here,” she pointed at a place on the map, “has fewer warriors than the rest,” maybe I’m not screwed..., “So all you have to do is kill them all, then go through the Timberwolf cave nearby and you should be able to bypass the bulk of their forces.” Good, I can... wait what was that she said about killing? And Timberwolves?

“So,” I questioned, “your saying that to get to these Canterlot Republic ponies I have to kill a bunch of battle tested warriors...” “Yes.” “Then kill a full caves worth of Timberwolves...” “Uh-huh,” “And after that I’m safe?”

She snorted a laugh. “Safe?! Oh Goddesses, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in years!” She wiped away a tear, “No, no, that’s the easy part. After that you’ve still got a whole Wasteland between you and the NCR.” I’m screwed.

The creepy dark pony spoke with me for another hour about the dangers of the wasteland between me and the NCR and each second left me regretting my decision more and more.

“... And that’s why Radscorpian stings are so deadly. Any questions?” she finally said.

“Um, yeah, I’ve got one,” I replied, “do I have any advantage at all?” I was really hoping she would say yes.

She smiled an annoying smug smile. “Why, as a matter of fact you do.” she pulled out a box, seemingly from thin air, and placed it gently on the table. “It’s called a Pip-Buck and I have to say, it is by far the best piece of scavenge I’ve ever found. Military grade magical engineering, inventory management, health diagnostic, rad counter, assisted targeting, auto-mapping, this thing has it all, and it’s my gift to you.”

She opened the box and took out the device. “Put your hoof out.” I complied by stretching out my left foreleg towards her. She clamped the weighty object on my leg. It made a few beeping noises. The piece of glass on it glowed blue and presented me with a crude picture of a smiling earth pony with small bars near each of the limbs. I pushed one of the orange buttons on the device and the screen changed. The next screen showed a map that presented a birds eye view of the valley and had marked Iron Hide and the surrounding villages (to this day I still have no idea how it does that) and two arrows, one presumably marking my location and a bigger one at the edge of the valley.

“The tall arrow is where your going,” the dark mare said.

“Thanks, but why are you giving me this thing?” I asked. It felt a little suspicious. Why would she give up so easily what she had just called the best piece of scavenge she had ever found?

Her answer was cryptic, “I can’t use it.”

“Well, why?” What the hell? Can’t you just put it on and use it?

“I have reasons,” she replied quickly, then added, “Reasons that aren’t for nosy ponies like you to know. Now go talk to your Chief. I think he has more stuff for you.”

I hadn’t noticed that the Chief and the Arch-Seer had left while we were talking. I turned around and walked out the door where I was immediately greeted by the Chief, along with my family standing behind him.

“So, miner, have you learned all you can from our expert?” he asked.

Had I? I was feeling really unprepared for what I’d signed up for. “I... I guess. I was told you had something for me?”

“Yes.” he smiled and motioned to my dad who levitated a set of leather armor and saddlebags to me like the type the warriors wear. A pistol like the ones that a traveling merchant from the north had been selling was tucked in the attached holster along with some ammunition.

“Put it on.” my dad said. I shrugged on the barding. “Does it fit?”

It fit perfectly. “Yeah, dad, it fits,” I replied, then added, “Thanks.”

“It used to be mine when I fought. I hope it protects you like it protected me.” And then it hit me. I wasn’t just going to ask for allies. This was a war mission.

Mom (“Come back to us,” she whispered with tears forming in her eyes) and my sisters (“Try not to do anything too stupid, little brother” Stream joked) walked up and hugged me. Dad simply shook my hoof (“Take care, son,”). The Chief put a hoof on my shoulder (“Let your ancestors guide your aim,”). The Arch-Seer touched her horn to my forehead and prayed (“May Celestia protect you with the sun by day and Luna guide you with the moon by night. Seek peace in the knowledge of their love,”) and slipped a copy of “Story of the Goddesses” into my saddle bags. The dark, creepy mare (“Good luck, kid,”) walked away with a scoped rifle slung over her back.

And then I left.

I’d been walking for an hour towards the mark on my Pip-Buck, all the while fiddling with it to see what everything did. So far I’d figured out that the screen with picture of the pony was the health diagnostic the dark mare had mentioned (it was telling me I was thirsty, as if I didn’t know), the screen that had been blank was the inventory and had marked what I was wearing and the pistol (which was apparently a 10mm, whatever that meant), and that this thing had a lamp function. I had also somehow accidentally turned on some system called E.F.S. which laid itself over my vision and showed a compass heading, my objective arrow, and some other stuff I didn’t quite understand all presented in a pleasant shade of blue.

As I neared my Pip-Buck’s objective marker, red tick marks appeared on the E.F.S. compass. The red marks turned out to be the guards the dark mare had mentioned who started shooting at me. I made a mental note: red means bad. These enemies could not only see me, they knew I wasn’t one of them. Of course they know, I thought, I forgot to wash off my White Hooves markings before I left. I deserved to die for my stupidity.

A few bullets hit my right flank before I was able to jump into a dry streambed, and those bullets hurt like hell. I swallowed down some of the chalky healing powder that had been packed in my bags, which just dulled the pain a little, before crawling on my belly farther toward their camp. They stopped shooting, apparently thinking they had killed me, and went back to whatever it was they had been doing before.

I now had a dilemma. I'd never killed so much as a field rat before, let alone another pony. It had been my hope that I could avoid killing other ponies and buffalo and to just sneak by, but now that appeared impossible. Dear Celestia, what should I do? Was I to be forced to murder others you creation so I could survive? But I knew that I had a mission to perform. Failure could mean my death and the death of my tribe. Mom's death. Dad's death. My sister's deaths. I tried to calm myself and gather strength for the upcoming battle, and with a quick prayer I drew the pistol out with my mouth and peaked my head over the edge.

I could see the Fire Hairs unicorn sitting in the center of the camp, directing her workers. Five earth ponies and a buffalo were the total of her guard detail so that brought the odds to seven against one. That didn’t seem good. I figured though that since the unicorn must be the leader and that if I could kill her first it would disorganize the rest of them. I took aim at her head, exhaled, and pulled the trigger with my tongue as many times as fast as I could, emptying the whole clip. All my shots missed.

“Thit” I muttered through a mouthful of gun. Just my Goddess damned luck.

The unicorn jumped up and stared at me. “Kill that fucker!” she yelled at her troops. They needed no motivation as they began shooting happily (I actually heard some laughter) and much more accurately than I had, forcing me to duck down again.

I put the gun away. Poking my head over the top of the ditch again would be suicide. I scrambled through the inventory-thingy on my Pip-Buck searching for anything that could help. Dynamite? I had dynamite in my saddlebags? Now that I knew how to use!

I pulled the red rod of my bag and waited for a pause in the shooting. When it seemed like they were reloading I quickly knocked the safety-cap off and threw the now sizzling red stick as far as I could towards my enemies. It blew up two of the earth ponies into a bloody mist and tore off the hindlegs of another who quickly bled out. That took three ponies out of action, but more importantly threw up a big cloud of dust. I ran in. Maybe if I couldn’t shoot them to death I could bludgeon them, I thought as I picked up a sledge hammer one of the dead ponies had had with them.

I found one of the remaining earth ponies as the dust began to clear and smacked his head twice with the hammer as he tried to find his gun again. His jaw gave way with a sickening crunch from the first blow and his skull broke open spraying blood and brain matter with the second. My next target was a mare who had already found her gun and was trying to aim it at me. I was just a little bit faster. Swing one, gun gone. Swing two, lots of broken ribs. Swing three, head no longer attached. I was good at this.

My self-congratulation was short lived, however, as I was tossed forward from behind about ten feet by the massive buffalo stallion I had somehow forgotten about. I staggered to pick myself up and had just grabbed my hammer as I was thrown another ten feet. This time I was able to hold onto my weapon and spun around to face him. I wished I had more time.

And then I did. Everything froze. “Welcome to Stable-Tec Arcane Targeting Spell or S.A.T.S!” flashed across my vision in that same bright blue. The buffalo stood frozen in front of me outlined in blue. parts of his body were marked: Horns 90%, Head 95%, Right Foreleg 80%, and so on. I selected his head once and watched some marks at the bottom of my vision disappear. The spell charge? I executed the attack. Wham. I felt like I wasn’t completely in control of my body, but sweet Luna did that attack feel satisfying. The buffalo fell over, not dead, but just dazed enough to make it easy to finish the job.

I stood up straight. Now just the unicorn.

Click. “Got ya now ya little dirt-fuck,” the unicorn whispered. She held a gun she had picked up off of one of her dead comrades and held it against my head. Shit, I thought. “I hope you prayed to Celestia a lot, foal, cause yer gonna see her real soo...” she was cut off by her head... no scratch that, most of her body, exploding on me in a shower of gore.

I looked around for my savior, but could only a small black speck on the top of the canyon wall.

Footnote: Level up

New Perk added: Mine Pony- Years of working the mines has made you skilled with its primary implements. You deal 15% more damage when using melee weapons and explosives.

(Thanks go to Kkat for making an awesome post-apocalyptic Equestria for amateur authors like me to play with.)