Fallout: Equestria - Legends of Stalliongrad
Mom's cheeks were stained by the trails of tears that ran down her aged features. Her gray eyes, once lush with an emerald color, danced over the walls and roofs of our ragged home. From the house, her gaze turned to the smaller utility buildings like the generator house, chicken coop and the small greenhouse. She soon looked to me, a sad smile on her features. I embraced her and give her a reassuring squeeze, patting her back with a hoof.
"It's okay mom, it's better that we move on..." I say gently, convincing her this was for the best.
"I-I know Ruby...it's...it's just hard to do...I've accomplished so much on this little space of land. When your father and I arrived here, we were hopeful and ambitious. Life was good, and then it became great when you entered the world. But...times have changed..." she trails off, her voice hitching a bit.
"Come on mom...it's time to go." I say firmly, pulling back to look my mother in the face. She casts a final glance to the house, bidding a silent, final goodbye to the life she built here. Looking back to me, she gives a firm nod.
"Okay my little gem...let's go..." she says, pulling herself out of my embrace, walking towards the Brahmin we borrowed from our caravan friends. All of our belongings had been packed onto the mutated cattle's back, looking like a small mountain of steamer trunks and various furnishings. Trotting along side Mom, I dip my head down and take the Brahmin's rope lead into my mouth. With a tug, I signal the Brahmin to follow as Mom and I began to walk down the dirt road that lead to our home. Eventually we reach the entrance of the path where the rest of the caravan was sitting in wait for us. Spotting us, a dusty unicorn stallion stood up and approached us, a welcoming look on his features.
"Ruby, Misses Wheat," he greets. "Are you two ready?" he asks.
"It's Miss, and yes," she says, looking to me. "I believe we're ready." Satisfied with her answer, the unicorn buck looks to his companions and gives a sharp whistle. Immediately the two other Brahmin stand up, one of them giving a long 'Moo' as it stretched. Their pony handlers take the rope leads into their mouths much like I had and give them a firm tug. The four caravan guards check their rifles and ammo clips as they begin to move as well, their eyes locking onto the surrounding landscape, watching for danger.
Once the caravan was lined up, the dusty unicorn stallion gestured for us to fall in line with the rest of their train. Once set, the caravan began to move at a slow pace along the dusty road.
~ooo000ooo~
The trip from home to Tunnel wasn't too bad. Every now and then, we would have to stop because one of the guards thought they saw something in the surrounding forest. Twice there had been actual Timber Wolves that ventured out onto the path, trying to snack on the pack Brahmin, but were fed rapid-fire bullets instead. Once we moved out of the wooded area, the landscape opened up to open fields and small packs of trees. In the distance, the peaks of the Applewood Range sat looking like silent guardians of the valley. I was told that before the war, this area was simply stunning and perfect for long camping trips. But now, the tall patches of wheat were long gone, replaced by tufts of dead grass and dry land. A pre-war hiking path is all the remains from the old days, winding through empty hills and passing by dead fauna. After a few hours of travel, the caravan stopped and made a camp circle, just like how the old Pioneer ponies did. Night was approaching, and soon a cook fire was crackling away. Hanging above it on a collapsible spit roast was the gutted torso of a Radhog that one of the guards had hunted down.
Much to my mother's disgust, I was willing to give the cooked meat a try. Once my taste buds made contact with the savory, smoked bacon, I was in hog heaven and devoured the strips of bacon I was given. Mom looked at me with sheer terror mixed with further disgust.
"Ruby...how..." she started, but trailed off, putting a thin hoof to her muzzle to stop herself from vomiting. Wiping my muzzle with the back of my hoof, I smiled and giggled.
"It's okay mom, really. I know it's nasty at first, but once it's cooked, it's simply divine!" I said, reaching for another strip of bacon fresh off the hog. Mmmm...juicy...
"It...it does smell very nice dear...but our diets don't allow for meats..." Mom said, looking to the dusty unicorn as he levitated a knife and fork, using them to cut and eat his pork chop. I had learned earlier that his name is Trail Blazer, but to call him Blazer; Made him sound cooler, at least by twenty-percent in his books.
"You see ma'am, you're wrong there." he said, chewing on a chunk of pork chop. "We ponies are generally herbivores, that is true. But a bit of meat every once in a while isn't going to completely wreck you. Meat has more of the good stuff we need than wheat or veggies do. Fish, chicken, hell even brahmin are all good eatin'. Everything in moderation, that's what I always say." he finishes, slicing another bite of pork chop for himself. After some smaller bits of conversation, sleep began to overtake the caravan. By this point, the brahmin had already snoozed off, the twin heads of the four cattle creating an orchestra of snoring and grunting. The caravan guards ended up picking who was going to take turns after a small game of Blackjack, the mare guard ending up the first to take watch while the two stallions slept. After rolling out my sleeping bag next to mom, the two of us stared up at the star speckled night through the breaks in the clouds.
"It must be absolutely beautiful to see all those stars without the clouds in the way..." Mom mutters quietly. Her hoof reaches up, pointing at a constellation that we could see in a large break in the clouds. "That's the Ruby Formation," she starts, turning her head to look at me. "You were born under that formation. Your father and I were sitting out on the porch, trying to think of a name for you. We were having such a hard time in deciding. Who knew all it took was looking up." she said, a smile on her lips as the memory played out in her mind. "But now that little bundle of joy is all grown up." she continued, reaching her hoof over to hold mine, giving a firm squeeze. I returned the gesture, giving a smile of my own. Soon, mom returned her hoof and gave a small yawn.
"Gonna hit the hay, mom?" I ask quietly. She gives a small nod with a quiet 'Mhmm'.
"We've got more walking to do tomorrow. You should probably start heading off to sleep yourself." she said, rolling over with her back to me. "I love you Ruby." she said, her voice carrying a gentle tone.
"I love you too, mom." I respond, a yawn of my own coming out. Sleep began to tug at my upper eyelids, taunting them to slide shut as sleep approached me to embrace me in its' comforting hold. My gaze continues to stare at the night sky as my eyes slowly slide shut, a final yawn on my lips as my brain begins to shut down for a nice nights rest.
~ooo000ooo~
My eyes spring open, my mind immediately kicking on as I suddenly wake up. Judging by my mental clock, I wasn't asleep for very long. I sit up, throwing the upper cover of my sleeping bag off. I had become unpleasantly warm, which was most likely the cause for why I woke up. As I laid there trying to cool off, my mind began to spin up with thoughts and the urge to look around. But why? We were out in the middle of a valley with nothing worth exploring.
"That's what you think. No matter where you are, there's always something worth exploring." my mental self said. The urge to explore began to form into the act of sitting up and looking around. The campfire had died down, heaving become nothing but faint embers in the base of the makeshift fire pit. Night had surrounded us in its' dark veil, the only source of light coming from the stars above the cloud layer and the light glow from the embers. Standing up, I reached for my saddlebags and began to sift through them, looking for the flashlight I had packed. Finding the tool, I looked over to the dark lump that was my sleeping mother.
"I'll only be gone for a few minutes..." I mutter to myself. Reaching back into my saddlebags, I grab a strapped vest and slip the garment on. With a clicking of the buckle, I slide the flashlight onto a shoulder hook and secure it. I began to walk, but stopped as I looked back to where my saddlebags are sitting.
"I might find something...never know..." I mutter again. With a flare of my horn, the saddlebags float up and I toss them over my shoulders, securing them to the vest as well. With a satisfied nod, I tip-toe away from the small caravan camp. Once I was a good distance away, I clicked on the flashlight. Immediately the pale light flickers to life and casts its' glow, the beam looking like a warships' searchlight as I walk through the valley. I look around at what my flashlight had illuminated in the night as I pass by small trees and rocks. I stop a few times to look at the rocks as I pass by. Some are pretty, while others are just plain rocks. I bag the pretty ones to chisel out for later. For a while, nothing but nature surrounds me as I walk. The night is quiet, filled by the chirping and clicking of the crickets and critters of the night.
Soon, my flashlight illuminates some odd looking scarring in the earth. Stopping, I cast the light along the scarred land. Seeing that it continued for a good distance, a sense of eagerness fills me as a smile spreads across my lips.
Looks like I just found something in this valley after all!
Prancing in place, I trot along the small ditches at an eager pace, keeping the scarred earth to my right. Soon on my left, random ditches popped up as I followed the trail while the path on my right began to look like skid marks. Now I had to find out what was at the end! Whatever caused these skid marks must have been big!
Eventually, I come upon a metal form of some kind. Rust covers its' surface, but I can still make out some faint markings of some kind. Suddenly, I trip and fall face first into even more metal! I quickly scramble to my hooves, falling to my ass as I held my stinging snout. Rubbing the pain away, I look up and cast my flashlight onto what caused me to trip. From what I could tell, I had tripped on a large panel of some kind. Upon further examination, I realized that I had tripped over an aircraft's wing! I found a crashed aircraft from the war!
"Whoa..." I say quietly as I pan the flashlight along the fuselage of the flying machine. It was originally painted a dark gray, but the color was long faded and eaten away by rust. Towards the tail, a faint crescent moon painted red peaks through the rust. The front of the machine is all bent and crumpled from the impact, the propeller blades having been twisted into odd angles. A single seat cockpit sits in the middle of the machine, the glass shattered and peppered by bullet holes. Standing up, I rear up and hook my forelegs over the lip of the cockpit, trying to look in at the control panel.
Instead, I was met by the ghastly form of the pilots' skeleton as my flashlight illuminated the weathered and sun bleached bones. I scream and fall yet again, scrambling back a bit along the rusted wing. I'm going to need a tetanus shot after all of this. With my heart racing in my rib cage, I approach the cockpit again, certain that the pile of bones within wasn't going to lunge out at me. As I set my light on the skeleton within, I notice that the left half of the pony's skull had been obliterated somehow, most likely being the killing shot. Clinging to the right half of the skull, a set of glasses sit, the left half having been removed with the pony's skull. The jaw sits open and askew, forever open in a silent scream. My eyes pan down and spot the jacket the pony was wearing. The leather was heavily damaged by weathering, but it still looked wearable. A grin came to my lips.
With a flare of my magic, I undo the strapping and belts within, setting them aside as I unzipped the jacket with some telekinesis. Amazingly, the zipper wasn't rusted! Careful to not make the skeleton fall apart, I lightly removed the jacket from the skeletons' form and let it drop into my hooves. One of the faded patches held the name 'Ace', along with kill marks of nearly forty-four! This pony was quite the professional during the war! Even better, the jacket fit me perfectly! I heard the clacking of bones and looked up. The skull had managed to fall to the left, the one good eye socket staring at me endlessly, as if the skeleton was saying 'Really?'.
"Yes, really. You obviously don't need it anymore." I say, gesturing to the bones within the wrecked aircraft and sticking my tongue out playfully. The skeleton didn't respond.
Not that I expected it to; That would've been extremely scary! With a satisfied nod, I hop off the wreckage and continue to look it over. Multiple bullet holes peppered the metal body, along with some heavy scorching from the crumpled right exhaust vent for the engine. From what it looked like, this aircraft used two small caliber cannons as offensive armament. No doubt the cannons were a wreck within the engine cowl; They weren't worth trying to scavenge. Feeling fulfillment in my heart, I pan my flashlight around until the beam lands on a small flower. Picking it with my telekinesis, I trot over to the skeleton and place the stem behind the good half of the pony's glasses.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of your jacket." I say with a smile. Again, the pile of bones didn't respond.
Okay, getting out of here before I start thinking of how this pony lived back then and who they were. Turning away from the wreckage, I pull out my notebook and a pen from my saddlebags. On the cover, the word 'Discoveries' sat in faded golden script. Cracking the worn out journal open, I put the pen to the paper and begin writing.
"Tuesday, early morning, Applewood Range Valley. Discovered old wreckage of a pre-war aircraft. Markings are faded, but the wreck belonged to the Red Moon Army. Skeleton of pilot within. Scored old school pilot jacket! Jacket is worn out, but it will do."
Closing the journal, I click the pen and float the two items back into my saddlebags. Starting to trot again, I follow the skid marks back to where I originally discovered them, then begin walking back the way I came. I can't wait to show mom my new jacket! The night is oddly quiet now; No crickets or the clicking of nighttime critters. As I walk, an ominous feeling begins to over come my mind. Something wasn't quite right...
That's when my nose is hit by the strong smell of smoke, and it's getting stronger as I approach the caravan's camp.
Worry begins to set in my mind, causing me to pick up my pace a bit. The smell of smoke continues to grow stronger and stronger. The worry in my mind strikes my heart and turns into full panic as I spot a large fire.
Oh no...oh no oh no oh no oh no...
My trot turns into a full out sprint. My heart pounds as I approach the burning remains of the camp, the smell of smoke becoming the smell of burning flesh. I skid to a stop and quickly look over the horror show before me. The guards were dismembered and thrown into a pile and set ablaze. Sheer terror grips my heart as my eyes spot a familiar hoof among the burning wreckage.
"MOM!" I shriek, dashing into the flames. Fire licks at me as I run, smoke filling my lungs as burning flesh consumed my sense of smell. With a combination of telekinesis and raw strength, I throw some debris off my mother and drag her out of the fire. Coughing, I collapsed and gasped, trying to clear the smoke from my lungs. I pulled mom close to me, realizing that she was covered in her own blood. Some bastard had slit her throat, and the gash was still gushing out her life juices.
"M-mom....." I choke, holding her tight to my chest. Tears stung my eyes as I held her dying form.
"R-Ruby..." mom croaks. I gasp and brush aside some stray strands of her mane. Her eyes hold me in their gaze. They hold a deep fear. She knew she was dying.
"M-mom..." I mutter, rocking her a bit. She gives a small smile as she raises a shaky hoof and pats my cheek.
"I-I'm proud...of you..." she whispers. The light in her eyes begins to fade.
"P-please don't g-go mom..." I say, my voice hitching as tears roll down my cheeks. Mom looks up at me, her smile remaining on her lips.
And she continued to stare.
I give her a little shake, remorse filling my body. "M-mom..." I whimper, hoping that this wasn't happening. But mom didn't respond, she didn't even hold her gaze on me. Her head rolls back and instead stares up at the stars above. I bow my head as I clench my teeth, tears flowing down my cheeks as my form shook with grief.
Laughter begins to fill the air.
I look up, my vision blurred by my tears. In the glow of the fire behind me, I can see the forms of three emaciated ponies lurching towards me, their forms covered in cobbled together armor and cloth. Their lips hold maniacal grins while erratic laughter fills the night air, matched by the piss yellow coloring of their eyes. Two of them are unicorn mares, their horns aglow with telekinetic magic as they carry modified sledgehammers in their magical grasp.
"Well...looks like we have ourselves a little prize..." one of them says, a rough purring trailing the end of the statement, his disgusting eyes looking me over hungrily. His body is covered in heavy armor of scrap metal and hoses, a helmet covering his features. "Sledge. Hammer. Grab her. I want to play with my prize." orders the third Raider. The two other Raiders giggle as they approach me, their hammers hitting the ground at regular intervals in an attempt to frighten me.
"Come 'ere...we won't hurt you...much!" cackles one of the mares. Hatred boils in my chest. These bastards took mom away from me and killed the others.
"Such a pretty mare...I wonder what she looks like with her head on a spike!" cackles the other Raider mare. I grit my teeth and snarl, a fire igniting in my chest now. My heart begins to race as murderous intent fills my mind. With one of the Raider mares closer to me, I see that her magic is weak due to the fact that her horn is fractured and chipped.
Perfect.
With a flare of my horn, I yank the sledgehammer from the Raider's telekinetic grasp. The Raider gives a yelp of surprise, then a scream of pain as the concrete head of the sledgehammer raises up, then slams down on her leg. Her leg bends at an odd angle, followed by a sickening snapping of bone and cartilage. As she falls, the hammer comes back up and turns her head into a bloody mess, silencing her screams. The other Raider mare gawks at what I had done, shock locking her in place. I turn my gaze to her, murder in my eyes.
The mare simply squeaks and turns to run away, but a bullet passes through her neck, having come from the leader. A large caliber revolver sits in his mouth, the barrel smoking as he turns the barrel to me, a smug grin on his lips.
"It would've been better if you didn't come back." he simply says.
"You killed my mom..." I growl dangerously. "You watched me kill your friend. I will do the same to you." I threaten, floating the bloodied sledgehammer up, ready to strike.
"Oh, your poor mother? She screamed and begged for mercy as I cut her throat. She even called for you. 'Ruby! Ruby! Where are you?'" He says mockingly. "You and your mother weren't going to make it to Tunnel anyway." he adds.
How did...
"How did you know where we were going...?" I ask, venom filling the question. The Raider's eyes widen a bit, realizing that he had slipped up.
"U-uh...it's a common place for caravans to go...and..." he says, trying to form an excuse. "Look, it doesn't matter. I'm done talking." he snaps, raising the barrel up to aim it between my eyes.
"Good, because so am I!" I yell, swinging the sledgehammer around, slamming it into the Raider's side. The thin armor there dents and buckles under the impact, the air filling with the sounds of cracking ribs. The male Raider screams in pain as he drops his revolver and charges forward to slam into me, making me lose my magical grip on the sledgehammer. The two of us tumble and kick at each other. His hooves slam into my face as my hind legs kick into his stomach and crotch. This Raider was smart with his armor, he has an armored plate protecting his goods. He puts his front hooves together and slams them into my face and neck over and over. I scream in pain, flailing my hooves in an attempt to get a good hit on him, but to no success; He is simply stronger than me.
With a firm kick to my stomach, I curl into a ball of pain as more tears roll down my bruising cheeks. With a grunt, the Raider steps back and turns to pick up his revolver. With the weapon in his mouth, he turns and approaches me, his breathing slightly labored from the cracked ribs I delivered him. With a pop of his neck, the Raider stands over me and puts the end of the barrel to the side of my head.
"Sorry, but this is where the trail ends for you." he says around the mouth grip of his revolver. I give a firm kick to the underside of his jaw, causing his helmet to fly off as he screams in pain.
Shock overcomes me as I gaze at the stallion beneath the helmet.
"Trail Blazer..." I mutter. The stallion recovers from the hit and glares down at me. "You...you were just setting us up..." I continue.
"Yeah, so what? I've been doing this for two years now. It's so easy to fool ponies into trusting you. And now look; Your mother is dead and you're going to join her." he says darkly as he aims once more. In a scramble, I knock the revolver away and flare my horn, enveloping the sledgehammer in a telekinetic grip. With a wild swing, I manage to knock his revolver and some of his teeth out. Trail Blazer screams in agony as I give another swing, slamming the hammer into his side again, effectively breaking his ribs. Trail Blazer collapses from the pain and I scramble to my hooves, panting heavily as I ready the hammer again in case I need to take another swing. Trail Blazer glares up at me, the remains of his teeth gritted together in agony.
"I'll gouge out your eyes...and skull fuck you...you bitch!" he spits, trying his hardest to stand back up on shaky legs, but the pain is too much and he simply slumps to the ground again.
"Yeah, as if." I shoot back. Feeling that Trail Blazer could no longer do anything, I turn tail and run for my life. Behind me, I can hear Trail Blazer yelling out threats in my wake.
"I will hunt you down! I will end you! No one escapes from me!" he roars. I try my hardest to block out the events that just transpired as my hooves carry me away from the death and destruction behind me. I run for what seems like hours. As I run, the faint rays of sunlight begin to creep above the horizon, signalling the coming day.
~ooo000ooo~
My hooves end up tangling up into each other, sending me face first into the gravel. I grunt in pain and exhaustion as I sit up and shake some of the gravel from my ruby colored mane. I simply sit there, tears rolling down my cheeks as I stare up into the storm gray clouds. Looking away from the sky, I take in the surroundings I find myself in. The land is stitched by rail lines. Some of the rail lines have blasted and rusted train cars sitting on them. Nearby, an armored train from the days of the war sits ever vigilant, aimed towards a nearby tunnel. The only building occupying the train yard is a ruined train station. Another armored train sits at the platform, loaded with lightly armored boxcars behind it. Standing up, my legs slightly shake from exhaustion, not wanting to carry my weight again. I tell my legs to deal with it as I walk over to the ruined train station.
Walking up onto the platform, I am greeted by a graveyard. Hundreds of skeletons litter the long stretch of cracked concrete, all dressed in ragged uniforms with rusted helmets upon their skulls. Equally rusted rifles and machine guns litter the graveyard. A large number of the skeletons were halfway onto the armored box cars when they met their ends. This train was obviously destined for the front lines. Carefully stepping around and over the bones, I spot some flatbed cars that held large tanks on them. A few were knocked off their mountings and laid either halfway off the flat bed or completely flipped over beside the train. Looking to the station, I peak my head into the doorway, and take a glance around. Among the building rubble and ruined furniture of the single room building, a lone skeleton lays among the destruction. The pony was once a conductor for the station if the ruined uniform was any indication. Peaking out from the front pocket of the jacket, I can see the tag for a set of keys with the label '0067'. Nabbing the keys, I trot out of the station and look around, trying to find where these keys out fit.
After roughly two hours of looking around the train yard, I couldn't find any locks that fit the key. On a whim, I look to the armored train near the tunnel. I trot over to the sloped armored machine and climb the small ladder into the control cabin. Luckily the door is unlocked and I enter the drivers' cabin. Looking over to the control panel, I spot the key hole and approach it.
"Here goes nothing..." I mutter to myself. Levitating the key, I slot the key into the hole and...
Nothing. This isn't the right key for this train! Celestia damn it! With a small scream, I yank the key out and storm out of the operators' cabin. Trotting around to the front of the train, I look at the identification numbers that sit above the windshield.
1138.
Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh... I can't seem to catch a break, can I?
Storming away from the train, I return to the train station intent on returning the keys to the skeleton within. Hopping up onto the platform, I sit down on one of the non-ruined benches and groan. Looking at the key again, I look up at the other armored trains' identification numbers. Unfortunately, weathering eroded the paint away.
"Well, might as well give it a shot..." I mumble. Standing up and trotting into the operator's cabin, I give a small sigh as I lazily place the key into the key hole and give it a turn.
With a roar, the engine surges to life with a throaty cough, causing me to jump fall backwards into the drivers' seat. I didn't expect it to work! Giddiness fills my heart, pushing away the sorrow that still lingers within for a bit. Situating myself, I place my hooves on the various levers and buttons.
"I have no idea what I'm doing..." I mumble as a small smile creeps onto my lips. I push the lever my left hoof is on forward and the engine rumbles to full power, but it's not moving. Why isn't it moving? Oh, right, the brakes. Thank you tractor training! Looking for the brakes lever, I spot a button instead and give it a push. The wheels suddenly screech as they spin to gain traction. With a lurch, the train moves forward, shuddering as it pulls forward with the weight of the train cars behind it. With some more wheel spinning, the train speeds up and moves towards the tunnel at the other end of the train yard. I look in the side mirror and become over come with guilt as I watch some of the skeletons on the platform become separated and fall off the platform.
Whoops, sorry guys.
I look forward again as the tunnel gets closer and closer. A set of headlamps on the train spark to life, casting a dim glow into the dark stretch of rail line before me. Soon, the train enters the tunnel and everything around me goes dark, save for the light piercing the darkness. The control panel holds a faint glow of illuminated buttons, casting a strange glow around the operators' cabin. As the train lumbers along, my heart is immediately seized by the sorrow that was casted aside earlier. My lip beings to tremble as flashes of what I had witnessed dart past my minds' eye. Being the only thing alive on the train, I let out a mournful scream as I throw my head back, tears pouring down my face. I slam my hooves into the foreleg rests of the operator's chair over and over, trying to throw all my pain into the weathered cushions. I cry for what seems like an hour before I end up a blubbering mess, curled up in a corner of the cabin.
"It's all my fault..." I whimper, the statement sparking some more guilt and causing some tears to roll down my cheeks. "I got mom killed..." I choke. "If I hadn't gone out to explore...I might've been able to stop Trail Blazer..."
"Whoever's in that train, answer me right now." says a gravely voice.
I immediately sit up, accidentally slamming the back of my head into the thick steel wall behind me.
"Ow...wh-who's there...?" I ask aloud, rubbing the back of my aching head with a hoof. I look around the small cabin, trying to locate the voice. Maybe there was a ghost in here with me? Or maybe there was somepony using one of those StealthBucks I've heard about?
"If you're looking for me, I'm not in there. Look at the control panel. There should be a little speaker with a microphone. Just press the button labeled 'Talk'" continued the voice.
Getting to my hooves, I look over the control panel in question. I spot the small antennae like device and the accompanying button. With a click, I clear my throat and speak with a cautious tone. "H-hello...?" I ask, my voice hiccuping a bit.
"About time. And you're a mare, eh? Tell me girly, what in the hell are you doing in that armored train?" asks the raspy voice.
"I...uh...w-well you first! How did you know this train was moving?" I ask, answering the voice with a question of my own.
"Simple. I'm at the Hub. It monitors the rail lines. Now tell me, what are you doing in there?"
"Simple. I-I was exploring." I say simply. "I found the keys and started the train." I continue, putting a bit more conviction in my tone.
"Scavenger, huh? Snooping around in the ruins, thinking you're gonna find something valuable? Well tough luck for you. Do you know where that line is going to take you?" asks the voice, anger seeping into the tone.
"I...uhm..." I say, trying to think of where I'm actually going.
"You're going to end up at Hill Six-Ninety-Seven, you dumbfuck! You're going into the Northern Tundra!" yells the voice. I can hear the slamming of a hoof on the other end.
The...Northern Tundra...?
"Are...are you serious?" I ask, disbelief filling my mind.
"Of course, dipshit. You're going to end up in one of the most dangerous locations in the Equestrian Wasteland, aside from the Applewood Divide and Hoofington! scolds the voice. After a moment of silence, the voice speaks again with a small sigh. "Alright, first off, what's your name girly?"
"Ruby Streak." I answer simply. "And there's no need for the insults." I add, putting a hint of annoyance in my tone.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Anyway, you've got a pretty name, and I'm assuming you've got a pretty face to boost. Well, if you want to keep that pretty face of yours the way it is, you're going to need my guidance and help." rasps the voice.
"Whoa whoa, I need to know a little about you first before I make any sort of decisions. Who the hell are you?" I ask, putting a little attitude into my tone.
"Don't get snippy with me, damn it. As for my name, it's Reaver. I'm a Ghoul."
"Well that explains why you sound like a smoker..." I mutter to myself, not realizing I still had my hoof on the 'Talk' button.
"I heard that!" snaps Reaver. I feel a small blush come to my cheeks. "Look, are you going to keep up this snarky attitude, or do you want to live the moment you step off that train?" asks Reaver. I sit there, feeling the train rumble along the rails. I think back to what I was leaving behind; then I realize that I wasn't leaving much behind. All I could've possibly left behind is now dead in the middle of a valley. On the other hoof, I was traveling towards the Northern Tundra; The place I've dreamed of exploring since I was a little filly!
"Well?"
With a nod, I click the talk button. "Reaver, I'm in. What do I have to do?" I ask, solidifying my path towards an uncertain future.
"That's a good girl. Alright, here's what you need to do..."
Fallout: Equestria - Legends of Stalliongrad
I scream as a large, deformed hoof rises above me, intending to smash me into a bloody pulp. I try to roll away, but the Power Armor I'm encased in is too bulky for me to even throw myself forward. The hoof smashes into my right side, flinging me through a nearby wall. Dazed and in pain, I grunt as I kick the wall debris off myself and stagger to my armored hooves. I look to my left, eyeing the built in anti-tank rifle. The barrel is slightly dented, but it still looks usable. In front of me, a looming form of bloated fur and flesh places its grotesque limbs on the lower part of the hole in the wall and stares at me with hundreds of blank, dead eyes.
I take up a firing stance and kick a new round into the anti-tank rifle as the beast before me lets out a challenging roar.
~ooo000ooo~
Twenty-five minutes earlier...
The armored train speeds out of the dark tunnel and into the dim light of the Northern Tundra. I look at the surrounding landscape in awe and amazement. I've never seen snow before, but I've heard plenty about it. Here, the landscape is practically nothing but snow. It covers the train rails. It covers the land. It covers unidentifiable objects and buildings. It's everywhere!
Soon though, I spot the remains of a train station. Almost as if on cue, the train begins to apply its brakes as it approaches the station, slowing itself as to not over shoot the platform. Reaver said this was a feature incorporated to make operating the train easier on those who were licensed to do so. He said it worked by the train relaying a signal, then the station bounces it back to the train and that sends a signal to the brakes to start stopping the train. The closer the train got to the station, the harder the brakes were applied until the train came to a complete stop at the platform. When I asked him how he knew this, he simply said that the being stuck in a train station with very little in the ways of reading material, aside from train operator manuals, for two-hundred years taught him a lot about trains.
The train glides into the station and comes to a full stop with a little jerk. Looking out, I can see the ruins of a small port town. A long road connects the town to the train station, and I can see the rusted hulks of tanks and armored wagons scattered about the fields outside of the town. A chill runs down my back as I look over the wrecks. Sights like this are rare in the Equestrian Wasteland, but to see the remnants of a large scale battle just sitting here untouched put some perspective on things. The rusted tanks and equipment were essentially tombstones, marking where brave soldiers fought and died in the final moments of the war.
Sliding out of the operators' seat, I walk over to the cabin door and put a hoof on the tarnished silver handle. As I stand there, I think back to the advice Reaver had given me on the way here.
"Alright kid. The first thing you need to do when you get to the next station is to find a weapon. You'll be coming up on the ruins of Port Novorossiysk. In the final days of the war, the Zebras were attempting to spearhead the defensive line set up outside of the port, so weapons should be plentiful. Finding one in working condition maybe a bit more tricky."
I assured him I knew how to repair and replace parts from other weapons into one.
"Good, because that is an important skill to know. Weapon maintenance is key. Second step is to find a PipBuck if you want to stay in touch with me. Without one, you're as good as dead."
I ask him where I could find one, and why having one is so important.
"Why do you need one? That's easy. There's a spell incorporated into the device that allows you to slow down time and target specific areas of enemies. It's called SATS, and it needs to recharge if you use the whole spell charge in one go. As for where you can find one, that's a bit more tricky. PipBucks only started being delivered to Stalliongrad a month before the bombs fell, and they were a bit pricey for the average pony to buy. However, government officials and those in the military got their hooves on one first. I have my own, but it's broken beyond use. Your best bet is to search around Novorossiysk. I'd look in the town hall."
After asking if there was a third step, he gave me a heavy sigh.
"Yes, there is, and this is the one everypony I've ever come across royally fucks up. SO LISTEN. Port Novorssiysk is...haunted."
I asked him what he meant by 'haunted'.
"I was getting to that! On the day the bombs fell, those who were lucky enough to survive the blast became ghouls. However, two years after the big kaboom, something changed in the necromantic magic that created the ghouls that lived here. The magic killed them again and....and trapped their souls. The ghouls here became, what I like to call them, Shades. As you search the ruins of Port Novorossiysk, don't be surprised if you see dark shadows moving along the streets and such. The Shades are simply living out their final hours on an eternal loop. However, whatever you do, do not stare at a Shade."
I asked why.
"You'll become one of them, but only after you blink. So if you're caught in a Shades' stare, don't blink. Blink, and you're dead; You become one of them. Your soul will be trapped and your body will simply rot away over time. On a positive note, Shades do not pursue anypony caught in their stare. All you need to do is keep them in your sight and move away out of theirs, but don't blink. Like I said; Blink, and you're dead. I've seen too many ponies go out that way. They didn't even get a chance to scream."
Looking to the handle, I take a deep breath and hold it, giving it a count to five before releasing it. "Weapon, PipBuck, and don't blink. Should be simple..." I trail off as my hoof trembles on the door handle, refusing to open it. Squeezing my eyes, I lower the handle and throw the door open, quickly pulling my hoof back. I take another deep sigh and open my eyes, looking out at the ruined station. A few skeletons lay about the station. Some wear ragged civilian clothes, while others are in tattered remains of military uniforms. Stepping out onto the platform, I am greeted by a cold, but gentle breeze. I shiver a bit and immediately become grateful for the flight jacket I found.
Stepping into the station building, I note that it is a three-room building. The first is a decent sitting area, filled by rusted and overturned chairs. A pony's skeleton in a moth-eaten lab coat sits alone. Looking closer, the back of the pony's skull is blown out. I look down at the seat next to the skeleton and spot the weapon the pony had used to commit suicide; A slightly rusted pistol. Levitating it, I eject the clip and count the bullets.
"Six left...one for you..." I look at the skeleton. "But where did the first one go...?" I spot an orange item in the lab coats' front pocket and withdraw it with my magic. "A holotape? Too bad I have nothing to play it with..." I mutter to myself as I pocket the holotape. Sliding the ammo clip back into the pistol, I magically pull the slide back and look down the sights. A bit bent and off center, but they seemed to be okay. The final two rooms are a single-toilet bathroom and the employee work area with a ticket counter. Trotting behind the counter, I see that the few shelves under the counter top were either broken or empty. Damn, I was kind of hoping for some more ammo.
Leaving the station building, I hop over a set of broken wooden stairs that lead up to the platform and look to Port Novorossiysk. What was once a small water front town sat in a decayed and dilapidated state. The buildings' weren't damaged by megaspell blasts, rather the effects of long-term exposure to the harsh elements and lack of maintenance. As I stare, one of the three story buildings in the center of town suddenly collapses with a heavy rumble.
"Well that's comforting..." I say slightly aloud. With a look back at the station and the armored train that delivered me here, I turn my gaze back to the ruined town and steel myself. With a confident hoof forward, I set myself on the cracked cobblestone road that leads to the town. As I walk, silence surrounds me as I walk past the rusted headstones of fallen tank crews and soldiers. A tank with a massive turret and equally massive gun sits toppled over onto its side, the bottom having been torn apart by a violent explosion of some kind. Stopping to take another look, I see that the damage wasn't the result of an explosion, rather the result of something with large claws having torn into the belly of the machine.
Continuing on from the improvised graveyard, I soon begin to enter the outskirts of the town and immediately my mane stands on end. Something in the atmosphere here told me that I should not be here. Of course now that I look ahead of me, I can clearly see the town hall sitting at the far end of the main road, the place I need to go if I want to find a PipBuck! Despite the uneasy feeling that fills my breast, I take a tentative step forward, then another, and another. Soon I'm tip-hoofing through the rubble strewn street, passing by empty buildings and blasted ruins. Strange, most of the windows on the buildings are boarded up...
I walk into the town square and stop to take a look around. Evidence of a previous settlement surrounds me. Vendor stands sit in disrepair, some lop sided, others simply knocked over. Cloth tents show large tears in their fabric, surrounded by a debris field of meager belongings. As I walk, I hear a light 'Momma' and immediately stop. The voice sounded like a ghost from the days before the war. I look around, trying to spot the source of the voice, but see nothing. Then I look down and see that my left hoof had kicked a small filly's toy. The poor thing was nothing but pure patchwork, complete with mismatched button eyes and a stringy mane. I gave it another nudge and the toy let out another 'Momma'.
In a weird way... the doll reminded me of... well, me.
"Did your mommy leave you too little one?" I ask, dipping my head down to pick up the toy. I plop my rear onto the cobblestone and hold the toy in between my hooves. The toy's head flops pathetically to the side as it stares at me with its' button eyes. I give a sad smile and open one of the pockets on the bomber jacket. Placing the patchwork filly in the pocket, I give it a light pat and get back onto my hooves.
"Well don't worry, we'll stick together." I say aloud as I move towards one of the broken weapon vendor stands, sifting through the debris for ammo or something to replace the rusted pistol I found at the station. I manage to find a few bullets, but they don't fit the caliber of the pistol I have. "Better hold onto these." I mutter to myself as I put the ammo into one of the empty jacket pockets. Looking up at the sky, I notice that it has gotten considerably darker since I arrived.
"Why does it look like it's going to-" but at that moment, a large explosion rocks the sky, and fractures of light pierce the sky. The wind immediately begins to howl as a stinging cold lashes at my fur and skin. Snow seems to come out of nowhere as it fills the air in a furious frenzy. Without thinking, I dash for one of the nearby buildings and barrel through the door. With the storm right on my hooves, I brae myself against the door and manage to slam it shut, fighting the strong winds. With a slam and the click of the lock, I stop to catch my breath, brushing the snow off my jacket and out of my mane.
Blinking a bit, I take a look at my new surroundings. This place used to be a small cafe, but it now sits as a tossed mess of broken chairs, shattered plates, and overturned furniture. Power still runs through the area, much to my surprise, given the fact that some of the lamps still shine their lights, giving the small space an eerie feeling. As I stood up, that's when I saw it...
Have you ever seen the reflection of water dancing on the underside of leaves on a really nice day? Well it looked nothing like that. The way this thing moved looked more like a river of sludge in the shape of a pony. A pair of murky white eyes scanned the room as I scrambled for cover. I can hear faint words escaping its' ghostly muzzle, sounding muffled and barely understandable. Peaking over an over turned couch, I watch as the Shade moves towards the cafe bar and stand behind it, looking ready to take a customer's order. At that moment, I hear voices fill the air and turn my head as more and more Shades rise out of the floor. They began to mill about, some going to the counter as others seemed to float where the tables and chairs once stood.
"This is really weird..." I mutter to myself. Another Shade moved about, one of its' murky hooves raised as if it were carrying a food tray to one of the tables. Looking over to the doorway, I remember what Reaver had said about the Shades. Double checking to make sure they were occupied, I slink out of my hiding spot and make a beeline for the doorway.
Just as I step through, I gasp as a Shade walks down the hall towards me. Immediately those murky white eyes lock onto me and begin to glow. My hooves feel as though they were super glued to the floorboards. I can feel those white eyes piercing my soul, waiting for me to blink so that it can force me into their ranks. I slowly begin to approach the Shade, intent on stepping around it while keeping my gaze on it. I manage to skirt around the entity, and as soon as I was behind the Shade, it drops its' stare and resumes its' trot down the hall. Letting out a sigh of major relief and stop to look out a cracked window. From what I could see, the snow storm had calmed down, and snow was gently falling to the ground. Down the hall, I spot a door that leads outside and trot towards it.
~ooo000ooo~
Once outside, I take a moment to let a snowflake fall onto my tongue. I immediately regret the action as a vile taste assaults my tongue. If radiation had a taste, this would be it; Vile, dirty, and wretched. My stomach starts to twist as I scrape the evil taste off my tongue, gagging on the flavor.
"Well...now I know not to eat the snow..." I say, lightly scolding myself for being stupid. Brushing some of snow flakes off me, I trot down the street and approach an intersection. Sitting in the middle of the intersection, seemingly out of place, is the rusted hull of a tank. The barrel, split and peeled back at the end from a violent explosion, aims towards the town hall, which sits just down the street. Passing the old war relic, I trot down the street and approach the tarnished white building. The town hall is a two-story building with a single floor attachment that was partially blown away, most likely by the tank down the street. Looking back at the blasted ruins, I eye the gaping hole in the wall and approach it. With a hop, I leap through the hole and land in what was once a conference room. Ruined papers and scorched clipboards litter the weathered oak table and cover the floor. Looking up, I see holes in the ceiling, letting in the murky sunlight. The torn remains of jump ropes dangle through the holes, making me wonder what happened here. Moving out of the conference room, I enter the main hall and stop in my tracks as I stare at what occupied the hall.
Standing in the middle of the main hall, on a pile of ceiling rubble and broken concrete, sits a full suit of heavy assault power armor. I cautiously approach the intimidating object, looking over the tarnished armor. Once close enough, I spot a yellowed piece of paper tapped to the left shoulder pad.
"Sprocket, the suit is drained; power core finally hit zero. I need a replacement stat. Come find me in the mayor's office when everything is ready. Oh, and make sure you PROPERLY dispose of this core. I don't need another core breach. - Phalanx"
"Where the hell am I going to get a power core...?" I mutter to myself as I look away from the note, casting my gaze around the room. Power cores, to my knowledge, are extremely rare pieces of equipment; I've only come across one in my whole life. Looking back to the suit, I look it over again and spot the anti-tank rifle built into the suit. Giving a whistle, I give a nod of approval as I spot the mountings for a much larger weapon on the opposite side of the suit.
"Sweet Celestia, what were these ponies packing? Cannons?" I mutter to myself, chuckling at the absurd image of an armored pony carrying a massive cannon on their side with no issue. Moving away from the power armor, I remember about the mayors' office from the note and make my way towards it. Trotting up a set of rickety stairs, I'm greeted by the grim sight of a few skeletons scattered about the upper floor. Some wore pre-war uniforms, others look more recent; Wearing the usual Wasteland style of tattered rags and cobbled together armor. A message was written on the wall in dried, black paint.
"THEY CAN RIP YOUR SOUL OUT"
The body of the 'T' in 'Out' trails down to the skeleton of a Wastelander, their body twisted and bent like an old rag doll.
"Ominous messages, check..." I mumble, swallowing a bit to calm my nerves. Stepping over the piles of bones and rags, I cautiously make my way to the rotten wooden doors that lead into the office behind them. I stop once again to gaze at yet another skeleton pinned to the door frame, a long bayonet rammed into the open maw that was the pony's mouth, the blade sinking deep into the wood.
"Oh...lovely..." I mutter again, my nerves attempting to get the better of me as I side-stepped the macabre scene, reaching a hoof out to turn the tarnished door knob. With a soft click, the door swings open and I step forward...
And nearly fall face first through the floor! Staggering back just in time, my legs tremble as I look at the floor that had given out, having fallen into the offices below. Looking ahead, I see the mayor's desk tilted, looking ready to take a dive into the ruins below.
And sitting right in a document bin, as if it were expecting me, is a power core.
"Of course!" I snap, throwing a hoof out for emphasis. With a small pout of annoyance, I scan around the office, looking for a way to traverse the structural abyss before me. Sharp chunks of the floor sit like jagged outcroppings along the base of the office wall, leading right to the mayor's desk. With a smirk, I give my rear a little shake as I ready myself to jump to the first jagged bit of floor. With a grunt, I throw myself forward and reach my hooves out, hoping to land and not slip to my death. Success! I manage to land with only a minor stagger, but I regain my balance and prepare to hop to the next jutting piece of floor. With a small huff, I jump and land once again. Carrying my momentum, I hop from piece to piece until I finally make my way to the section of floor with the desk.
"So far, so good." I say proudly. However, at that moment, my hoof steps onto something that causes me to almost slip and fall. Stepping back a bit, I kneel down to look at what I had stepped on under the desk. The skeleton of a soldier lays curled up under the desk, the jaw hanging slacken as the eye sockets gaze at me. What my hoof had stepped on however was a round, crystal like object that was clutched in the skeleton's hooves. The moment I flared up my horn to envelope the object, my world fell away from me in a slow smear, my senses becoming dull and sluggish as everything goes to black...
