Wagon’s End
Chapter 1: A town by any other name...
Lucky Strikes counted the few blessings he had. Going into Dodge Junction he had intended to kill a little time by playing a few hands of poker, drinking a little, and simply enjoying life on life's terms.
It wasn't his intention to win big. Moreover he planned on losing a few bits, maybe winning a few, and go to bed in a decent enough bed before pushing on out and heading further on out toward the Shetlands.
With enough bits he'd be able to purchase a large plot of land out there, become a land rich baron, maybe take on a herd, and in truth it wasn't a bad idea.
Yet, fate sometimes has different ideas in store for us. Fate, it seemed, decided that Lucky Strikes' hands would be winning hands, and the stallion across from him, Diamond Dust, was getting angrier after each hand.
Lucky looked at his winnings, three Luna bits, two Sols, and over three hundred individual bits. A decent amount for the night. He looked at Diamond who seemed to almost be stewing.
"I believe I shall call this a night," Lucky said.
"Son, you done won a bunch of money off of us. Ain't gonna sit right for you leave without giving us a chance to win it back."
Seeing that leaving would most certainly start a ruckus he didn't want Lucky nodded, "Two more hands then. I am exhausted."
The first hand was dealt and Lucky donated nearly half of his winnings to the pot. Hopefully he'd lose, the townponies would feel better, and he'd rent his room and still have a little more than he came into town with.
It was not meant to be. He received two princesses, a Prince, a Duke, and a ten. He looked distraught, and unfortunately those around him believed it to be that he had a losing hand. All of them began betting higher, raising the stakes, and foolishly he stayed in the game rather than folding.
The time to show came, he laid down his cards, revealing his hand, something that won against the few pairs that resided in the others' hands, and he pulled the winnings toward him.
Diamond Dust, a stallion that seemed to be quite loved in Dodge, fairly honest, and a bit of a hothead seemed to have enough. His next action was to draw.
Diamond was quick, but Lucky had been in similar scrapes before, and he was quicker. He won that hand, two aces of lead played just over Diamond's heart.
Those there in the saloon made the decision, based upon their drunken line of thinking, to move the festivities toward an old cottonwood tree. One carried a rope, others grouped around Lucky, and he wondered if it was truly the end of the line for him.
It wasn't until they neared the edge of town that he saw it. A bit of an old trail grown over with brush. Being a pony that could run fast, turn quick, and hide when needed he moved toward the trail and out into the unforgiving desert.
Those that had been with him followed, but unlike them he wasn't drunken, he wasn't keen on being strung up, and instead he was moving with purpose. By the end of a mile he was far enough ahead he just had to move off into a different direction.
Lucky knew this area, or at least knew it well enough. He knew that in thirty miles there was a drinking/swimming hole, and he just had to make it there.
It was forty-five miles now, and the drinking/swimming hole was a dried and cracked empty creek bed. The land had told him as much, but he had hoped that there was still something, some part of the spring, something that would help, but he had been wrong.
His lips were dry and cracked, his legs and back were tired, and his hands, now free from the loose knot that had been tied around them, were filled with the emptiness that came with despair.
He realized that it was likely his luck had indeed run out. The fortune he had made from gambling, doing odd jobs, and working at times as a grifter was gone. He had a measly six bits to his name.
He was going to be lucky to make it another three hours. But that's when he saw the wagons. Two of them, crowded together, and neither a mirage. No, there was salvation, but he had to be careful.
If ponies ever took pity on another pony then any leverage that pony might have had would be gone. Nope, he had to appear to be a stallion of means. The question was what could he do. That's when his hoof bumped an old rotted sign.
He looked at it, seeing the name of Blitz Bluff. Memories came rushing to the surface. Prism Blitz had founded the town and salted a few mines with valuable minerals and jewels and some potions that were able to trick Earth Pony's magic into thinking that there was more there.
It was a massive fraud, one that Prism Blitz held until he had enough gold to simply disappear. Slowly after it was discovered that this plot of land had nothing the settlers, disgusted with themselves, and Blitz, headed out. The final few were said to have been slaughtered by renegade Caribou.
He could breathe life back into Blitz Bluff, but it needed something else, a different name not associated with fraud. He wandered up toward the group, seeing a collection of Earth Ponies, Unicorns, and one Pegasus. Putting on a smile he prepared to fleece the lambs that Celestia saw fit to send his way.
Nearing them he moved with the kind of energy, friendliness, and ability that he didn't feel. In truth he had seen the wagons, the bedding, and he longed for a place to rest, some of the water to drink, and a bit of the hay bacon that was frying in the skillet.
But he had one shot to sell this. One, and one only. It was pure luck that at least he looked the part of a stallion of means. His suit, the same that ponies of Dodge Junction wished for him to wear to a hanging party, was a fine tailored suit he had purchased a mere week before.
"Evening, Heading toward Applewood?"
A large Earth Pony stallion nodded, "That was the plan, but the wagon wheel broke, we can't move on."
He nodded, looked at it, and then at the two families, or he assumed was two families.
"Perhaps it was fate for that wagon wheel to give out here," they looked at him and he neared the barrel of water they had, "May I?"
With a nod he took a drink, only the wisp of one. He couldn't let them know that they were saving him. He had to play his hand close to the chest.
"Ah, better. My friend I say that Fate might have brought you here, and the reason is because you need go no further."
Seeing them studying him he grinned. He kept his pistol, the same the drunken town ponies of Dodge Junction forgot to remove, under his jacket. These folks had the smell and feel of townies, and that was fine.
"My Uncle, Sour Mash, had wrote to me some time ago about his claim in the town of, "He looked at the wagon and grinned, "Wagon's End. He said it was the richest claim he'd ever seen. Unfortunately a band of Renegade Caribou came through and slaughtered every last one of them."
He saw the mares and foals looking a little frightened, "Fear not, this has been some eight years ago. I believe those caribou have long since moved on, but the town, the claims, and everything in it sits unused and waiting."
He could see the gears turning, and he grinned, "Might I add that most fortunes that come about aren't from the mining itself, but rather the selling of goods to those miners. Far more gold is found in the pockets of those who go to the mines than in the actual mines themselves. You could, in theory, set up store, sell the extra goods you have."
"I've got quite a bit. I planned on opening up a general store out near Applewood."
He saw the Unicorn stallion speak.
"Good, you could certainly sell them here, to those passing through for Applewood. IF you choose to set up in this town, in this place, we'll enter a contract right now. Being that I am the sole owner of this township I will... take a mere ten percent of your sales, thirty percent of your claims."
"That's practically Robbery!"
He looked at the lithe Pegasus mare. She was certainly a creature of beauty. Her build, the way she filled out the homemade dress she wore, told of her Earth Pony heritage, but her temperament certainly indicated that there had been a Pegasus or two in her lineage.
"Again, none of you have to take this deal. Water, what water is to be had out in the wild for all to partake of, is a good seventy miles behind me."
The stallions and mares got together, talking, and he noticed that the young Pegasus mare watched him. She observed him, and it bothered him slightly.
Pegasi were known to watch over their flock. They kept them from danger, from predators. Being with these people for the short amount of time he had been lead him to change his mind about a few things. He wouldn't fleece them, not exactly, but they would be window dressing. He'd need to build the town, get it to going again, and in order to do that he needed people that knew a trade. The Unicorn stallion was obviously a storekeeper. That was good, from the off handed conversation he learned that the Earth Pony, aptly named Crusher, was a Blacksmith.
"You drive a hard bargin Mr..."
"Strikes, Lucky Strikes. I do, but if you're willing to accept I can promise none of our agreement will ever change."
"Fine, We'll all take on your agreement."
"Very good. I know there is a smith's shop in Wagon's End, perhaps within a day we might be able to repair your wagon wheel, set it to moving again."
With that agreement he began to trot ahead, letting them follow him. It was a dangerous game he was playing, and he knew it. There was a chance that the mob from Dodge Junction might turn into a posse, and if they did they'd be armed with guns, canteens, and a better knowledge of the area around their town. It meant no going back to Dodge for the foreseeable future,
That wasn't such a bad thing. There wasn't much there that he was interested in, other than the small fortune he left behind, but that was something he sought to replace.
When they neared the hill he felt a slight breeze and felt the warmth rolling off of another body.
"Miss."
"Cloudy. Cloudy Tale, and I've got my eyes on you. So far we've followed you a few miles, and there is no sign of this... town."
"Miss Tale, the town of Wagon's End is just over that hill. Once we top it you should see the township in all of its glory."
They neared the top of the hill, and indeed there before them was several buildings, a street, a few homes, and certainly more than enough to give any able bodied pony a fresh start.
"IT's not much is it?"
"Miss Tale, what did you expect of a Ghost Town?"
He started to trot down, and then he turned toward her, "If you don't mind to inform the others that we are near the town that would be a help. They might not realize how close it is and decide to camp where they are. Also, it would be best to wait until morning to enter the buildings themselves.
"Why?"
He saw her distrusting glare, "Miss Tale, there are snakes a plenty in this area, rattlers, and I've not seen a snake whisperer one among the lot of you. Not to mention while the town is still there the floorboards have been without travel for the better part of eight years. I would not want to a snake bite, or a bad fall, on my head."
She snorted, "You come up with excuses quickly enough. I think that you're a sham, a flim flam stallion Mr. Strikes."
He smiled at her, "Then perhaps it is well and good that I hold no care for what you think. Now, be a good filly and let your parents, and their friends, know what I said."
Cloudy Tale was beside herself. Nopony, especially no stallion, had ever dismissed her so easily. Stallions practically fell over themselves to be on her good side, and yet here was this stallion who not only didn't care, but indicated that he felt she was still a little filly!
She partly flew, partly walked, toward her parents. Her soft pink mane bristled over the way she had been dismissed. She stopped near her mother, letting her know what Mr. Strikes had said, and she looked back toward the place where the stallion had moved toward the abandoned town. She didn’t trust him, not a speck, but at the same time she wanted to know why, and how, he was so easy to dismiss her.
Ahead, Lucky looked at the boardwalk of the old town. Silver Feather Saloon, Sheriff’s office/jail, Old Hat’s Fineries and Clothes, Little Colt’s Cafe, so far none of the signs would have to be gotten rid of, that was until he saw the bank.
“Blitz Bluff City Bank,” he read, “Well, you’ve got to come down.”
He’d been here, eight years ago, a younger stallion, almost a colt really, and he’d tried to find his fortune in the mines. He’d been hired on as a leased hand, given a percentage of the mine, and when it was discovered that it was a fraud he’d left. Still, he had a percentage of the mine, even by the old rules of Blitz Bluff he owned the mine, the town, and everything in it. Simply by being the one miner that was willing to come back.
He walked toward Old Hat’s store, finding the ladder the old stallion had used long ago, and climbed up to the sign, took it down, and broke it up into firewood. A quick look at the town told him several things. This town could live again. It wasn’t too far gone, he was sure of that, and it could be more than a mining town. It could be a farming community.
He laughed at the thought, but in truth farming had been a large part of who he was. His father had been a farmer, outside of Stalliongrad. Theirs was a little farm, one that paid for itself, saw that they were fed, and even allowed them the chance to sell some of their father’s potatoes to the ponies from the city. Still, a cold night, a terrible storm, and his father’s good nature saw the beginning of the end of that farm.
He remembered, being a colt of eleven, playing a game of hide and seek with his fifteen year old sister, and hearing the sounds of someone outside calling for help. His father was an Earth Pony in the best possible way. Earth Ponies helped, they shared the burden, they gave freely of what they had, and they never turned a hurt, starving, or cold pony away. That night it was a gryphon hen looking for shelter. She was half frozen, her hawk like face seemed more stiff than he believed possible.
She came inside, enjoyed some food, spoke of a group of bandits that had hit her caravan, and how she had managed to get away. She thanked his father over and over for taking her in, feeding her, letting her warm up, and she flirted a bit more than he believed she meant. His father put her into a room, told them to leave her be, and in the morning he would take her into Stalliongrad, and they could come with him.
The night began to pass, but there was new sounds outside. The sounds of drunks, too far from town to be up to any good, and just far in the country to get away with nearly anything. Their sounds quieted, and then he heard the sound of the old wooden door creaking and cracking. The drunken whoops and hollars got louder, the door broke open, and he saw them. A couple of large Hippogryphs.
His father made him hide, take his sister, go into the cellar, and not open the door. The front door didn’t stop them, neither did the cellar door. They ransacked the house, searching for something, determined to find it, and that’s when they found Hawley. They tore her from her hiding spot, and he ran out to stop them only to get a hoof to the head.
He’d been out for hours, uncertain of what happened, but when he woke up he found his father cradling his sister’s form, crying, wailing, and lost in his anguish. The gryphon hen had been taken, and Lucky didn’t know what became of her, but a mere two years later his father heard a Hippogryph talk about a little mud pony filly he’d had out on a dirt farm.
His father called the Hippogryph out, there was a short gunfight, and his father lay dead. A year later, at the age of fourteen, he found the same Hippogryph, and he left him in the same state he had left his father and sister. After that he joined a caravan, moved across Equestria, learning to play poker, blackjack, and anything else anypony would teach him. He made himself into a gambler, and a stallion of means, but farming, farming never left him.
The ground here called out for crops. He could see fields of corn, potato hills, rows of carrots, all of it waiting to be planted, tended to, and raised up right. A farmer’s market could be put at the edge of town, letting local farmers sell their goods at a price that was fair, reasonable, and still made a profit.
He shook his head, this was dreams that he didn’t want to chase. There was a desire to get to the Shetlands, own some land, start a herd, and live a life that he longed for. This was a means to an end, and he knew it. He looked over the horizon, seeing wagon heading their way, and felt some relief. Undoubtedly the two oldest colts would have stayed back with the other wagon, making sure that anypony that happened through didn’t think it abandoned, or decide to unburdened the owners of a few possessions that was obviously weighing down said wagon.
He watched as they pulled up near the fire he started, slowly the group neared it, the Earth Pony stallion, Crusher, seemed unsettled.
“Seems desolate,” he said.
“It’ll be okay Papa,” Cloudy Tales said as she rubbed his shoulder.
The stallion took her hand, with a gentleness that didn’t seem possible for a stallion his side and build, and gently held it. His wife, another Earth Pony, but one, upon further inspection, that looked to have the build of a Pegasus. Realization came to Lucky’s mind. She was the daughter of a Pegasus and an Earth Pony. Thus, her daughter was a Pegasus. That explained much.
“Tomorrow, we’ll begin. Choose your shops, your homes, as the first settlers here in a long time the entire town lays open to you. I myself have laid claim to the Silver Feather,” he could see a few disapproving glances, “It is a mining town, and there will be those who want a drink. I won’t stop them from it, but I will profit from it.”
He looked to see the older Unicorn colt. He seemed to be lounging around, talking about wanting some beans and cornbread.
“Did you leave that other colt alone?”
The Unicorn colt looked toward him and then at the others, “Rolling said it was fine. He said that he’d watch it. Didn’t need two ponies watching it anyway, just an old wagon of junk.”
His father seemed upset at the appraisal, but he obviously kept his mouth closed for his wife that stood nearby.
“I see, I shall ride out and keep the colt company, ensure that the wagon is fine, and help him watch over it. In the morning you’ll find the Blacksmith’s shop just down the street. There should be tools enough to fix the wheel, and fixing it should be the first thing on the agenda.”
He started out that way, giving a sharp glare at the Unicorn colt that looked away from him. He moved further out, but he could hear the conversation.
“What? Rolling said it was fine, and sides, I wanted some beans. If’n he wants to check that wagon so bad he can go!”
He left the group, headed back, and saw a sight that more than bothered him. There was rumors about a group of bandits in the area. He could see them, a mixture of Gryphons, Earth Ponies, and a few Donkeys that seemed determined to be up to no good. He could see the Earth Pony colt, tied up, his booths removed and showing the bottom of his hooved feet.
“Boy, there’s a few mare’s clothes in there, we ain’t gonna do nothing to ‘em, but we’d like to know where they are.”
The colt shook his head, “I’m alone. I was with another wagon, but they went on ahead when I broke the wheel. They ought to be getting back anytime!”
The gryphon shook his head, “I was hoping that you’d be a might smarter than this,” he looked at one of the others, “Bring over that burning stick. Let’s see what he says when his frog is a burning.”
Lucky pulled his pistol, aimed carefully, and fired shooting the Earth Pony carrying the stick right through the knee. He fell, and Lucky watched as the others scattered.
“You didn’t have to do that!” the colt yelled.
Lucky closed his eyes and cursed the colt for being an idiot, “Scoot over here, I’ll cut you loose.”
The colt did, and he cut him loose from the rope they tied him up with. The last thing he wanted was to give any of that outfit a chance to see him out in the open. Already he could feel them looking for him, trying to figure out where he was. He’d stay here, hidden, and wait it out. That was the best policy, or at least the best one he could come up with. None of them would enter into the light, and they wouldn’t travel too close to him knowing that he could shoot. No, they’d stay over there, waiting for a chance the he wouldn’t give them.
“You didn’t have ta shoot him!”
He glared at the colt, cocked the hammer on his pistol, and cleared his throat, “Get your stallion, move on. We’ve got an eye on that wagon, and any business that ain’t getting him out of here is going to end with somepony getting a bullet.”
Slowly, the Gryphon moved, grabbed the stallion, and he listened to the night. It was light, but he could hear them. The group was moving away, maybe not far, but far enough. The morning wouldn’t come soon enough.
When dawn broke he was certain those would be bandits had moved on. That was a relief, and he was certain that they would be back, most likely to look at the town, but that was a worry for later. He watched as Crusher came toward them, a new wheel in his hands, and he stretched. It was time to bring Wagon’s End to life.
Wagon's End
Chapter 2
Rolling had told everyone how Lucky Strike had shot one of the ponies that tied him up. Understanding that they needed to know the danger Lucky explained that life in the frontier was different than they were accustomed to. He explained the group of bandits were questioning the boy about the mare folk, about the goods, and they were likely the kind that would shoot first and ne'er a care for it.
It was enough to keep them from packing up, and in truth that was his concern. Of course he didn't give a tinker's damn if they liked him. As the day began he took in the sights of the unoccupied buildings. Taking in what needed to be done he started with repairing the old boardwalk.
It was still sturdy, but the years had loosened some of the planks, and it would be far easier to sell the idea of someone living here if it were in repair. Repairing it took most of the morning, and by noon he was working on transplanting wild flowers into small makeshift flower boxes he had built for a few of the buildings.
Cloudy Tales watched as Lucky Strikes worked on the town itself. Like most pretty girls she had fallen into the trap of believing that all colts would trip over themselves to please her. Knowing that he honestly seemed to not give a care for her approval, and also knowing he obviously liked mares - it was something she discovered when she saw him study all of them the first time. His eyes lingered on her and her mother.
Still she observed as he worked hard, harder than anyone else, to bring Wagon's End to life. She moved toward him, half fluttering in the air, and landed as quietly behind him as possible. His actions had been to gather some reeds together, and she watched as he boiled them. He then began to use the blackish liquid to paint the signs.
"How did you learn to to do that?" She asked.
He gestured to the pot, "Buffalo ink. The Buffalo use it in decorating their pottery. A good many of the plants out here can be used for various things," he studied her for a moment, "There's even a few plants that work for basic medicine."
She looked at the various weeds growing, "It's likely we may have to learn about them. I'm not certain any pony will be out this way."
He motioned to the town around them.
"Ms Tales, I won't pretend that this isn't a risky venture. It is. This place is on the very frontier, and simply being here is risky," he smiled, "However, risk can lead to riches."
She shook her head. Her mane shaking loose.
"Perhaps, but it can also lead to ruin."
He nodded, “This is true, but that is the risk. Still, it is far more likely it will lead to riches than ruin. The town itself is seated near the very edge of Equestria itself. Ponies that are looking for wealth in the land will venture out this way,” he smiled, “And those that do may decide to make this place their home, or they may wish to venture further out, to obtain a place to mine for gems and crystals in high demand.”
He began working again, “Most of the wealth found out in the frontier isn’t in the ground itself, but rather it’s in the pockets of those wishing to make the big strike. Simply by being here we are most assuredly going to do well.”
She studied him as he continued to work. Doing little things that would make the township more presentable to those traveling through. Her own family was working hard, but the extent of it was merely on the blacksmith shop that her father was working on. Even though her father had brought his collection of tools there was far more left behind here. Their home, the home connected to the blacksmith’s shop, was fairly nice, and her mother was doing her best to turn it into a home.
Still she knew that while her family was working hard on their home, and their business, Lucky Strikes was working on the entire town. He was going out of his way making the town ready for more residents. She didn’t trust him, but growing up in an Earth Pony home she understood the value of hard work. She respected it, and there was some respect toward the stallion that was working harder than all of them.
The first few days consisted of mostly the same. Lucky Strikes continued to make the town more livable, more welcoming, and the two families he had brought into the township worked on their own businesses. While he shared the various wild vegetables growing he did notice that few of them wanted much to do with him. The blame, he believed, lay in the fact that they were from the more civilized parts of Equestria. They were used to everything being made safe for them by the royal guard.
Of course he understood, but he also knew that they needed to let that past life go if they wished to live and prosper out here. As he trotted down near the large wash he noticed how it would be easy to dam up the water. Making a sizable pool for livestock, and at the same time it would give water to much needed crops. He laughed, being raised by farmers had never left him. It was still as big of a part of him as anything else. It was actually a far bigger part of him than he wished for it to be.
Still he admitted that because of that part he understood hard work. It was with this understanding that he set upon creating the dam. It took far less time than he believed it would. Working throughout the day he finished by night, and he was greeted with the sight of the water collecting. Such a thing would only be considered more precious because of the area. He finished his work, walked into the town itself, and began to work inside of the saloon. He cleaned it, collecting the cards, set upon cleaning the various glasses, the bottles, and finally when it looked the part he took the ladder he had used for the sign on the bank and climbed onto the roof.
To his surprise much of it was still in decent condiction. The stove pipe had what appeared to be a birds nest, one of which he cleared out, while also managing to collect a few small eggs, and then he made his way back to the ground. He sat the eggs aside, moved outside, and found the large stone water trough to be full of water. He took a taste, and was rewarded with the taste of limestone water. Pure, clean, and perfect for making buffalo whiskey.
He took a barrel, filled it water, and watched as a dozen leaks appeared. He merely continued to fill it with water until the barrel swelled up, stopping the leaks, and at the same time holding what he wanted. He found one of the mares about to throw away a box of pears. Apparently they were going bad, be he asked for them, and traded a few scrub cabbages he had collected for some honey from her. Taking the pears back with him he diced them up, added the honey, and tossed both into the barrel. He then added some of the old chewing tobacco he had found in the saloon to the mix, and whittled off the top of a bar of soap in order to give the whiskey a head.
Afterwards he sat it to the side to let it ferment and become more potent. The following day saw the first set of visitors. It was a family of Unicorns with two Earth Pony fillies. They ended up purchasing supplies, getting a some work done to mining tools, but they didn’t act as if they wanted to stay. No, their eyes and desires were on the gryphon lands. Tales of the wealth waiting for them had long since convinced them.
As the days progressed more and more ponies, and some gryphons, happened upon their little community. Soon some made their home there. The tailor shop saw Gruff the Stoneclaw and his bride moving in. Gruff himself was an accomplished tailor, a bit of a rough personality, but Lucky Strikes enjoyed his frankness. The doctor’s office found a resident in Dr. Bawley Apple. The good doctor, and her husband, seemed to be the likeable sort.
With in the first month the entire town had collected decent people, although Cloudy Tales noticed something. It appeared that the mining town was short a certain kind of resident. There was no miners. They had a doctor, tailor, blacksmith, several shop keepers, a restaurant, and a bookstore/lending library, but there was no miners in a mining town. It struck her as odd.
