Fallout Equestria: The Travellerby ViperBlueChaptersChapter 1Chaper 2Chapter 3Chapter 1They are lying under an overpass, breathless in the shade,one is green, the other a dark brown, earth ponies at a glance. And they’re skinny, I can see their ribs protruding from under their fur even at this distance. I wonder where they came from, they haven’t got any gear, weapons or saddlebags on them, just two, half dead ponies in the sand. I keep approaching. The sand has long blown over and covered much of the road, making it difficult to see, and the sand masks ones hoofsteps. Probably why they haven’t noticed me yet. I stop about two steps away from the green one, female I now see, red marks around her hooves from bindings, rope I would guess tell me all I need to know. Runaway slaves. I’m looking down at her for about a moment when she groggily opens her eyes and spots me, eyes widen as she makes a choking gasp as if she hasn’t used her voice or drunk water in days, and she begins to crawl backwards away from me. This draws the attention of the other one, male and he stumbles to his hooves, positioning himself in between the female and myself. “Don’t come closer” he rasps. Head down, wide stance, shoulders braced. I don’t say anything, I don’t move as I watch him through the goggles. Nothing happens except for the mare backing away into the retaining wall. Moments pass, the wind kicks up slightly, sending sand past us and under the overpass. Nothing happens. “What do you want?” he asks after several moments. The stiffness in his stance easing slightly. ..... “Nothing” I say finally, and I turn away, walking to the other side of the overpass. I nearly reach the edge of the shade when the mare speaks again. “Who are you?” I pause, shift my shoulders and send one of my saddlebags to drop into the sand. “Just a traveller” I say before stepping out into the sun. “You dropped your bag” the male says, caution in his voice, his implication clear. “Keep it” I respond as i continue to walk away from them. I have a good view of the town from where I stand, the small hill of sand, barely even a dune sits about 50 meters away from the town and its crest is level with the walls, A sign over the gate reads ‘Vacancy’ the town being built around a small highway motel and fuel station, the body of a unicorn is nailed next to the gate, making it clear who owns the town. Raiders. “You going to stand there all fucking day or are you going to move?” a voice says from behind me. Turning around I come face to face with a dark grey unicorn dressed in as many spikes as one could fit on his armour. “I hadn’t thought about it” “You clearly don’t do much thinking do ya?’ he sneers “Standing out this close is a good way to get shot or nabbed” Glancing down I can see the barrel of a sawn off shotgun pointed at me. Behind him is a second raider, this one an earth pony, some sort of varmint rifle, semi automatic, no armour, a rope tied to his belt connects to the neck of a young looking earth pony. “That’s going to end badly” I reply after a moment. My rifle is still on my back, unobtainable, hooves it seams. “Don’t fuck with me” he says and he jabs the shotgun closer towards me threateningly with his magic, unicorns aren’t strong, and his stance narrow. Darting forward inside his guard, my shoulder collides with his, knocking him off balance, his grip on the shotgun fails sending the shotgun spinning into the sand, as the earth pony turns his gun towards us, I wrap my hoof around the unicorn’s neck and use his lack of balance to put him in between me and the earth pony, a meat shield. The earth pony is slow to realise, and lets off 2 rushed shots, one striking the unicorn, one striking my shoulder, pain lances through my torso as I give the unicorn a shove towards the earth pony and dive towards the shotgun, the collision give me enough time to grab the shotgun and blast both of them, one barrel each. Blood soaks the sand as the fall, and the mare tied to the raider begins to panic and has dropped to the sand. A moment passes and I realise that I should also get behind the crest, as a bullet whizzes past me from the town. Dropping behind the hill next to the mare, I peak over at the town, A single raider In a tower is taking potshots. His aim isn’t very good as a shot hits the sand just under a metre to my left. “Oh goddesses” the mare murmurs, I ignore her. Plenty of time. Unslinging my rifle from my back and resting it upon the hills crest, I peer down the sights. No sense in rushing. The sand continues to kick up from impacts, he’s getting closer. A single bullet leaves the barrel and strikes him in the torso, and he falls into the tower and out of sight, the mare has gotten a knife off the unicorn and is cutting the rope now. Makes things easier for me. I cycle the bolt as the gate opens and raiders start to exit weapons drawn. I guess this is what i’m doing today. Down 23 bullets, gained a shotgun, 9 shells, a grenade, a new set of boots and 2 bullet wounds. As well as the unwanted gratitude of slaves. As good of a day as one can expect. The raiders had two slaves with them in addition to the mare tied to the earth pony, they said they would take care of her, and asked if I would stay. I’m not, they’re disappointed. After pulling two bullets out and sewing my wounds closed I make my way out and down the road. The wound causes me to limp and my gait is slow, it itches horribly for hours, I think there’s sand in one of the wounds. And its getting late now. ..... At least I’m alone. The town is a proper town, walls, tavern, shop, sheriff, water, crops and guards. The gate guard sits on a bench just outside the town a unicorn in security barding, a battle saddle on his back carrying two short rifles. His helmet is drawn over his eyes, he’s not paying attention. I stop in front of him and he looks up at me, squinting in the sunlight. “Oh,” he says " name and reason for visiting?” “Traveller, and.... Uh travelling through I guess” I respond. He glances towards my badly sewn up wounded shoulder, one of the holes is leaking slightly, guess I opened it. “and medical” I add. “Alright go on through, doctors third house on the left, taverns in the middle of town” he says and gets up to unlatch the gate that is for some reason latched on the outside of town. “You should probably have that on the other side I say” “What?” he asks, giving me a confused look. “Nothing” “Mmhm, welcome to Ashshore” he murmurs as he closes the gate behind me. Strange name. Limping my way down the dirt path leading down the centre of town I quickly spot the doctor’s house mentioned, the large sign saying “DOC” gives it away. The door is locked, knocking on the door I can hear shuffling and after a moment the door cracks open, a pale blue, white maned unicorn peeks out from behind it, small glasses perched on the end of his muzzle. “Can I help yo- ah I see, come on in” he says as his eyes drift downward and spot my bleeding wound. And he opens the door letting me in. The room is small, a single chair and a gurney sit side by side, a closed door off to the left. “Take a seat and let’s see the damage” “Two bullet wounds, already got the bullets out” I respond as I sit. “Fortunate that you are alive” he says as he starts to inspect the wound, after a few moments he says , “Seems to be a simple stitch job, I don’t have any pain killers however, so this is going to hurt” and he begins to thread a needle with the precision that only a unicorn can perform. It did hurt, not as much as when I did it. 50 caps later I left the doctor’s office, no pain killers, but a lollipop, strange stallion. I make my way to the centre of town, the tavern is a large rusty red building, on its wall painted are the words ‘Scarlet End’ Ominous. Inside are a few ponies, in booths, a wooden bar sits in the centre of the room, a earth pony stands behind the bar and a handy robot flits around the tavern carrying bottles. A sign sits placed on the counter that reads, ‘pay up front, rooms 20 caps, company 100. As I sit at the bar the bartender says, “Now what method of poison do you wish for?” “Pain numbing” I respond “And a room” “Spirits it is, and That’s 25 caps” he says, and begins to pour a glass of an amber coloured liquid, rum I discover, 5 caps a drink, wasteful. I’m about halfway through my painkillers when a soft voice sounds out from behind me. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer honey” Turning I see a small white coated mare, a pale, powder blue long mane framing her face, an earth pony, her eyes are yellow, and she has a pretty looking face. “One could say that” I say after a few moments. “You look tense, you look like you could use a good rest and a massage” she continues, stepping closer. I glance to the sign. “It would be nice” “I could give you one, and a nice bath” I was about to decline, I don’t like company, when a voice in the back of my head mentioned that ‘it would be nice to have company for once’, and that ‘we have slept alone for a long time’ It could be nice I guess, and I am sore. “Please” is all I say. “This way cutie, and you can call me Platnium” she says as she tugs at my hoof leading me away from the bar. The smell and texture is strange to my sleep addled brain and it confuses me before I realise that I’m curled up with Platinum from last night, muzzle pressed into her soft blue mane, and I feel relaxed for the first time in a long time, and rid of sand. I really don’t want to leave. She senses that I’m awake as she shifts to look at me. “Hey, how are you feeling” ash asks in that soft voice that i’m getting attached to. ……. “Content” I say after a moment. She smiles. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to go anywhere” “Mm” I murmur and press my face into her mane. Goddesses I missed company. I’m relaxed and happy, almost convinced to stay another day, something I never do. Then I hear that unmistakable sound, muffled by the walls but distinct. Gunshots. We both sit up with a start and a voice sounds out. “Hey Traveller, we know you’re in there, get out here, and we won’t torch the town.” Platinum looks towards me. “Who do you think they’re after” she asks as I start to get up. “Stay” Is all I say. I pause only to grab the double barrel and the bullet loops filled with shells as i make my way out. No rest for the damned. In the centre of town facing the tavern is seven ponies lined in a row, guns pointed to the tavern, barding that same spiked cobbled together look that has become iconic of raiders. And yet the guards all watching, no guns out, no concern, as if it was business as usual. “So you’re the one?” “Depends” “Don’t fuck around with me, You’re the one who shot up Vacancy ain’tcha?” “As I recall” I reply in a flat tone. “What the fucks that mean” …….. “Yes” “Right, good” The raider turns to the watching crowd, and begins to shout, “You see, this is why you fuckers pay us bribe money, because if you fuck with us, we find you and we fucking kill your stupid ass, you’re sheep and we’re wolves and don’t you fuckin forget it.” I hate monologues. I barely get a single shotgun blast off, before the raiders undo all the hard work the doctor did, and all the softness and relaxation given to me from Platinum, pain that I’ve felt before floods me as 6 of the raiders shoot at me. These ones can aim. I miss company. It’s a strange feeling, a pony that you spent the night with and being buried not two hours later. And Traveller was so sweet, soft and nice, that it seemed a crime for their life to be ended, but here we are. The raiders left shortly after, not lingering and leaving the Travellers dead body in the street. I haven’t felt good all day. Leaving town, I walk towards the graveyard that we have just outside the town, I don’t know why I’m visiting again the next day, I like to think that I make a connection to everyone I’m with. …………. …………. …………. The grave is empty. It looks like a fresh dug grave, I think it’s the wrong one, the wooden headstone reads “Traveller” I don’t understand, I look around and I can see Hoofprints leading away from the grave, and away from the town. The Traveller is gone. Author's Note Endurance: 10 Chaper 2I don't think I'll go back, I want to, the sun is too bright and my packs are still in town. I won't however, not allowed to stay, besides raiders will probably show up again. Its bad to stay in one spot for too long. It takes too long to walk now, front leg is fairly useless after ..... all that. should probably get it fixed. So bright, the sun is hot against my bare fur and I realise the sand has been heating up as I walk. .... Wait... When did the sun come out? I only remember clouds the last 27 years. I turn change my direction to the north and walk off the road towards equestrian proper. I wonder whats happened, guess I'll check it out. It takes 9 hours through the desert, on a limp leg and bullet wounds. no water, no food. A good day. This town is different, where the other one, Ash-something was made of scrap walls and buildings, built at the edge of a ravine, This town is build in a mine. Several carts sit in a semi-circle around the cliff side entrance to the mine, reinforced by scrap metal and sandbags. in front of one of the carts is a well painted sign on plywood "WELCOME TO DIRTHOLE, NO WEAPONS, NO GHOULS, NO DRUGS, NO EXCEPTIONS." ..... Dirthole? ..... Weird I walk up to the front cart, where upon, a pony in a duster sits ...oddly on a chair under an umbrella. As I stop in front of him he looks towards me and says in a clipped tone, "Sorry, no admittance" ..... "Why?" "Raider activity nearby, can't be too careful, you might be their spy" I look down at myself, my brown fur is matted with a mixture of sand and the skin is badly scarred, my left front leg is so blood soaked from my shoulder to hoof it looks like someone else's leg, and somehow I haven't noticed until now that my tail is completely shorn off. I look more corpse than raider. "Really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "Yes. Really, I don't know who you are, never seen you before." he answers. ..... "Unless of course" he continues, "you show your willingness to contribute to our fine town with a small advancement of taxes" A bribe. Figures. "And if I get rid of the raiders" I ask, squinting up at him. "I'd be surprised, you look like you're about to keel over" And yet he won't let me in so I don't ...... "Which way?" He looks at me sceptically, as if trying to read what I'm thinking "North-west from here about two hours as the Pegasus flies, But I wouldn't recommend it, they don't mess around over there" he finally answers. I start to walk away, circling around the caravans until I'm walking north-west. Rising hills and cliffs of rocky outcroppings block any view beyond them sit just past the town entrance and just above them is Celestia's sun, slowly setting. That's going to take me longer than two hours. ..... My hooves hurt. 5 hours later, standing on the top of the cliff I look down at the concrete building nestled in the end of a canyon, lit up by braziers and fire pits, outside the compound the valleys and cliffs bathed in the light of the moon. the building sits two stories high but the rooftop still sits far below the crests of the cliffs. several old trucks lay ruined outside and and past the chain link fence surrounding the compound, an old dirt road leads northward, winding its way through the valleys. The raiders have set up several tents and towers made of scrap. 7 outside, unknown number inside. Inventory: Nothing. Injuries: Many. Will to live: Questionable. ..... Sigh "listen I was thinking" "That's a horrifying concept" the other voice replied "No shut up, I was thinking," the first one pressed on. "Why are we even raiding anymore, I mean we got a pretty good setup here, Water, Guns, enough canned food to last until the next Megaspells drop, and a good defensible spot, we could just make it a town and let the suckers pay us to use our supplies" If they did, he had a point "Cause we're raiders, 's what we do, we raid" "Yeah but my point is we don't have to" "listen, half of us nut jobs are only here to raid and do what we want, civilised world died, and with it bein civil, sides, sounds fucking boring" It was a good thing they were so wrapped up in conversation that it made it easy to sneak past. The fence is worn and broken, and there's a significant gap under it where something had crawled through long ago. I look behind me at the shack I had past. the raiders inside still haven't noticed me. Time to wiggle through, In the dirt. not that it matters as currently there is more dirt on me than fur. Getting down I push some dirt aside to deepen the hold and start to wriggle under. I figure its best to start inside rather than out, more defensible position, and hopefully a weapon. the gap is small and after scratching myself on the metal, inhaling dirt, suppressing several sneezes and stopping to untangle my mane from the fence, I get myself up on the other side of the fence, the building across the sand covered asphalt of the compound is boring looking, a two story concrete building sticking out of the ground, no balcony, or second floor exits, on the left of the building is a loading dock, large garage doors that haven't been opened in a long while as sand has built up against them. Above the main entrance is a single sign that reads IRONSHOD FIREARMS STORAGE FACILITY, AUTHORISED PONIES ONLY Raiders with a weapons cache. That's not a good sign. I am still crouched down in the sand and dirt, the dark of the night giving me some cover, and in between the building and myself are a few shacks, from within, muffled conversation makes its way across to me. .... What IS the difference between dirt and sand? ..... Straining my ears, I try to catch some words. Nothing. Too far away. Keeping low near the fence I start to circle around the shacks towards the main building. The sand helps to muffle my hoofsteps and soon enough I find myself at the loading dock. peaking around the side of the building I find my way in. Up against the wall of The building about halfway along Is a metal hatch set at an angle into the ground. A basement hatch. as I round the corner and make my way over, I quickly glance behind me to the shacks, no alarms yet. Grabbing the handle with my mouth I can taste the black paint that covers the hatch as I pull it open, the hatch groans and metal squeals as metal grinds against metal. Shit I hope they didn't hear that. With a final tug of my shoulders and neck I pull the door open the rest of the way, the hatch falls and sinks itself into the sand. I stop and strain my ears listening. ..... Nothing, I let out a sigh or relief and look down the steep stairs that descend into the pitch black darkness of the basement, and for a moment, it felt like decending into Tartarus. Author's Note Level up: perk gained: Toughness "Its all about how hard you can get hit." Chapter 3Dust. A pony once said that 90% of all dust is skin, If so, somepony had a bad time in here, the floor of the basement is covered at least an inch of dust. I strain my eyes in the darkness of the basement, surrounding me are metal crates that fill the space to to low ceiling, creating narrow passages, in the dim light on each of them is the logo of Ironshod Firearms. My head starts to hurt from Peering into the darkness, and now that I have stopped, it all starts to catch up to me, Dull pain throbs in my head like a constant unrelenting pressure and my vision blurs, my hooves under me feel weak and broken, And my heart pounds inside of me as if I have run a marathon. my guts feel like they wish to rebel and I remember that I have not eaten in days, and every moment I put pressure upon my left front hoof, dull old pain throbs through me from my shoulder. I need to rest, can't fight, not yet, have to find meds, healing potion, painkillers, anything. Creeping forward I look down the corridors of steel and rust, at the end of the right passage is a door set into the concrete wall. I make my way over and push down upon the lever handle, Its too dark to see and after a moments search, I press down upon the light switch and a single bulb flashes to life, forcing me to blink away the sudden light. Inside is a small windowless room with shelves and tools, a small desk sits at the end, Good enough. I turn around a close the door as quietly as I can and listen. Its silent, all I can hear is my own breathing and heart beating like thunder in my chest. Gotta calm down. My hooves collapse from under me and I lean against the desk and try to calm the storm inside of me. I spend some time In the dark basement, dust, sand and dried blood itching, and every second that passes, aware that my wounds are slowly taking their toll upon me. Parts of me still feel wrong and twisted, like they weren't meant to be fixed, wounds stitched together by unnatural magic, looking down at my chest I can just see the warped and stretched scar tissue crisscrossing my chest and neck underneath the grime and fur. Celestia and Luna damned Zebras. So tried, so sore. ..... I think I'll rest a moment more. Hoofsteps, one pony, muffled by the dust, metal upon concrete, armoured, slight gait, wounded in the front leg. Raider. My eyes shoot open and I look to the door, still closed, I am laying on the floor at this point, and as I listen, every hoofstep grows louder. Need a weapon. With as little sound as I can, I look around the cramped room, Fan, desk, coffee cup, sparkle cola bottle, cigarettes, A stack of Nude magazines with posing mares on it, an Ironshod Firearms poster on the wall, and a crowbar wedged between the side of the desk and the wall Scrambling to my hooves, I reach for the Crowbar, Its a long Red thing, A rubber grip sits midway down the handle, a Metal loop extends out of It to allow better control with hooves, and each end has been sharpened, It will have to do. I've just picked it up in my mouth when the door opens, I spin around. In the doorway Is a single raider mare, dark, dull red in colour with what was once a white mane shaved into a short messy spiked mohawk, looking at me with surprise, dirt cakes her torso and mane, a chipped and cracked horn extends from under her mane, Her legs covered with patchwork metal armour except for the front left leg, amputated half way up and fitted with a wide blade its point resting upon the ground. I charge, using the surprise to my advantage, I hook the curved end of the crowbar around her neck and drag her into the room, causing her to crash hard into the desk, and kick the door shut behind me. She reacts and recovers faster than I anticipate, a white glow appears around her horn and she hurls the fan at me with her magic, I dodge it and she leaps at me, I swing wildly and catch her in the head with the blunt end of the crowbar, a sickening crack fills the room and she is sent colliding with the shelf before falling to the floor. I move over to her as she rolls onto her back, blood seeping from a wound on her head and I swing the crowbar down at her. White magic flare as she draws the pistol on her belt, a small rusted revolver. As the crowbar collides with her head again, white hot pain lances through my head and I go blind and explosion rings out inside the room as the shot echos in the confined space and my hearing rings and my ears hurt and the left side of my head feels as if struck by lightning. I keel over onto the floor against the door and lay still, my ears full with a high pitch ringing that doesn't go away and the vision in my left eye gone. Fuck. I press my hoof to my eye and it throbs in pain, and my hoof comes away wet and the crimson colour of blood. Fuck. The mare Isn't moving, yet the deep slow movement of her chest tells me that she is alive. A blood seeps from a head wound, but its not deep. I should probably kill her, It would be wise. Otherwise she may live, wake up and come after me, raise the alarm, and do even more damage to me. ..... I need to get this fixed I can feel blood pouring down the side of my face and neck and struggle to my hooves. I feel dizzy, but manage to get to door open and stumble back into the dark basement. To the left the dust has been worn away by regular hoof prints. That's where she came from. The path in the dust follows the concrete wall of the basement around to a doorway on the far side of the room leading to a hallway, a lamp deep into the hallway casts a soft orange light. Rubble and dirt cover the hallway and off to the left, a door I stay peaking around the corner, with my good eye, waiting to see movement ..... Nothing. I stumble forward, gait unsteady towards the door, A sign on the right of the door says "Bathroom". bathrooms usually have healing pots. I try to door handle, but the lever stays in place. Locked. The door is thin, wooden, and cracked, hundreds of years has not been kind to it. I look around again, listening out for any noise. Its all quiet No choice I guess, the left side of me is covered in blood and I feel dizzy still, the wound in my head needs to be fixed. I take two steps back so my rump is pressed against the wall, hunch down and ram the door with my shoulder. The door frame cracks and the door flings open, after the second attempt, and I stumble in after it, colliding hard against the bathtub with my legs. Steadying myself on the tub I look around the room Its a small room, barely the size of a closet that the builders have crammed as much as the can into, the toilet sits pressed up against the rim of the bath that sits against the far wall, with barely enough room to clear the door. Behind the door I can glimpse a yellow box attached to the wall and a sink. I close the door with effort, squeezing my body against the bathtub to do so. A mirror sits next to the case and through the grimy mirror I see my refection. The bullet had grazed the left side of my head, catching my eye in the process, there was barely anything there anymore, the entire left side of me was drenched in the crimson red of blood, my long tan mane tangled and caked with dirt, and brown fur so covered in mud, sand and blood, that it could barely be seen. The only undamaged and clean part of me it my one remaining blue eye staring back at me. The box is a small square case, faded yellow with a pink butterfly on it. Finally, some good luck. Inside are the objects of my search, two slightly faded healing potions and several bandages. I down the potions instantly and start to feel the wounds on my face, limbs and the bullet wounds begin to close, I avoid looking at the mirror. Slowly my vision starts to blur as my eye is, urgh, rebuilt and the pain in my head is reduced to merely a dull roar, and after some time, I can see properly again. I use the bandages to start to wipe the blood and muck off me as best as I can and soon the once white bandages are a dark brown colour, I try the tap on the sink and a foul smelling, slightly glowing liquid pours forth. Guess not. Looking back at the mirror, my eye and side of head are back to normal now, and I am only filthy instead of disgustingly filthy. ...... I should have been dead, a normal pony would have. ...... Sometimes I hate being alive like this. Author's Note Luck: 2
Chapter 1They are lying under an overpass, breathless in the shade,one is green, the other a dark brown, earth ponies at a glance. And they’re skinny, I can see their ribs protruding from under their fur even at this distance. I wonder where they came from, they haven’t got any gear, weapons or saddlebags on them, just two, half dead ponies in the sand. I keep approaching. The sand has long blown over and covered much of the road, making it difficult to see, and the sand masks ones hoofsteps. Probably why they haven’t noticed me yet. I stop about two steps away from the green one, female I now see, red marks around her hooves from bindings, rope I would guess tell me all I need to know. Runaway slaves. I’m looking down at her for about a moment when she groggily opens her eyes and spots me, eyes widen as she makes a choking gasp as if she hasn’t used her voice or drunk water in days, and she begins to crawl backwards away from me. This draws the attention of the other one, male and he stumbles to his hooves, positioning himself in between the female and myself. “Don’t come closer” he rasps. Head down, wide stance, shoulders braced. I don’t say anything, I don’t move as I watch him through the goggles. Nothing happens except for the mare backing away into the retaining wall. Moments pass, the wind kicks up slightly, sending sand past us and under the overpass. Nothing happens. “What do you want?” he asks after several moments. The stiffness in his stance easing slightly. ..... “Nothing” I say finally, and I turn away, walking to the other side of the overpass. I nearly reach the edge of the shade when the mare speaks again. “Who are you?” I pause, shift my shoulders and send one of my saddlebags to drop into the sand. “Just a traveller” I say before stepping out into the sun. “You dropped your bag” the male says, caution in his voice, his implication clear. “Keep it” I respond as i continue to walk away from them. I have a good view of the town from where I stand, the small hill of sand, barely even a dune sits about 50 meters away from the town and its crest is level with the walls, A sign over the gate reads ‘Vacancy’ the town being built around a small highway motel and fuel station, the body of a unicorn is nailed next to the gate, making it clear who owns the town. Raiders. “You going to stand there all fucking day or are you going to move?” a voice says from behind me. Turning around I come face to face with a dark grey unicorn dressed in as many spikes as one could fit on his armour. “I hadn’t thought about it” “You clearly don’t do much thinking do ya?’ he sneers “Standing out this close is a good way to get shot or nabbed” Glancing down I can see the barrel of a sawn off shotgun pointed at me. Behind him is a second raider, this one an earth pony, some sort of varmint rifle, semi automatic, no armour, a rope tied to his belt connects to the neck of a young looking earth pony. “That’s going to end badly” I reply after a moment. My rifle is still on my back, unobtainable, hooves it seams. “Don’t fuck with me” he says and he jabs the shotgun closer towards me threateningly with his magic, unicorns aren’t strong, and his stance narrow. Darting forward inside his guard, my shoulder collides with his, knocking him off balance, his grip on the shotgun fails sending the shotgun spinning into the sand, as the earth pony turns his gun towards us, I wrap my hoof around the unicorn’s neck and use his lack of balance to put him in between me and the earth pony, a meat shield. The earth pony is slow to realise, and lets off 2 rushed shots, one striking the unicorn, one striking my shoulder, pain lances through my torso as I give the unicorn a shove towards the earth pony and dive towards the shotgun, the collision give me enough time to grab the shotgun and blast both of them, one barrel each. Blood soaks the sand as the fall, and the mare tied to the raider begins to panic and has dropped to the sand. A moment passes and I realise that I should also get behind the crest, as a bullet whizzes past me from the town. Dropping behind the hill next to the mare, I peak over at the town, A single raider In a tower is taking potshots. His aim isn’t very good as a shot hits the sand just under a metre to my left. “Oh goddesses” the mare murmurs, I ignore her. Plenty of time. Unslinging my rifle from my back and resting it upon the hills crest, I peer down the sights. No sense in rushing. The sand continues to kick up from impacts, he’s getting closer. A single bullet leaves the barrel and strikes him in the torso, and he falls into the tower and out of sight, the mare has gotten a knife off the unicorn and is cutting the rope now. Makes things easier for me. I cycle the bolt as the gate opens and raiders start to exit weapons drawn. I guess this is what i’m doing today. Down 23 bullets, gained a shotgun, 9 shells, a grenade, a new set of boots and 2 bullet wounds. As well as the unwanted gratitude of slaves. As good of a day as one can expect. The raiders had two slaves with them in addition to the mare tied to the earth pony, they said they would take care of her, and asked if I would stay. I’m not, they’re disappointed. After pulling two bullets out and sewing my wounds closed I make my way out and down the road. The wound causes me to limp and my gait is slow, it itches horribly for hours, I think there’s sand in one of the wounds. And its getting late now. ..... At least I’m alone. The town is a proper town, walls, tavern, shop, sheriff, water, crops and guards. The gate guard sits on a bench just outside the town a unicorn in security barding, a battle saddle on his back carrying two short rifles. His helmet is drawn over his eyes, he’s not paying attention. I stop in front of him and he looks up at me, squinting in the sunlight. “Oh,” he says " name and reason for visiting?” “Traveller, and.... Uh travelling through I guess” I respond. He glances towards my badly sewn up wounded shoulder, one of the holes is leaking slightly, guess I opened it. “and medical” I add. “Alright go on through, doctors third house on the left, taverns in the middle of town” he says and gets up to unlatch the gate that is for some reason latched on the outside of town. “You should probably have that on the other side I say” “What?” he asks, giving me a confused look. “Nothing” “Mmhm, welcome to Ashshore” he murmurs as he closes the gate behind me. Strange name. Limping my way down the dirt path leading down the centre of town I quickly spot the doctor’s house mentioned, the large sign saying “DOC” gives it away. The door is locked, knocking on the door I can hear shuffling and after a moment the door cracks open, a pale blue, white maned unicorn peeks out from behind it, small glasses perched on the end of his muzzle. “Can I help yo- ah I see, come on in” he says as his eyes drift downward and spot my bleeding wound. And he opens the door letting me in. The room is small, a single chair and a gurney sit side by side, a closed door off to the left. “Take a seat and let’s see the damage” “Two bullet wounds, already got the bullets out” I respond as I sit. “Fortunate that you are alive” he says as he starts to inspect the wound, after a few moments he says , “Seems to be a simple stitch job, I don’t have any pain killers however, so this is going to hurt” and he begins to thread a needle with the precision that only a unicorn can perform. It did hurt, not as much as when I did it. 50 caps later I left the doctor’s office, no pain killers, but a lollipop, strange stallion. I make my way to the centre of town, the tavern is a large rusty red building, on its wall painted are the words ‘Scarlet End’ Ominous. Inside are a few ponies, in booths, a wooden bar sits in the centre of the room, a earth pony stands behind the bar and a handy robot flits around the tavern carrying bottles. A sign sits placed on the counter that reads, ‘pay up front, rooms 20 caps, company 100. As I sit at the bar the bartender says, “Now what method of poison do you wish for?” “Pain numbing” I respond “And a room” “Spirits it is, and That’s 25 caps” he says, and begins to pour a glass of an amber coloured liquid, rum I discover, 5 caps a drink, wasteful. I’m about halfway through my painkillers when a soft voice sounds out from behind me. “You look like you’ve been through the wringer honey” Turning I see a small white coated mare, a pale, powder blue long mane framing her face, an earth pony, her eyes are yellow, and she has a pretty looking face. “One could say that” I say after a few moments. “You look tense, you look like you could use a good rest and a massage” she continues, stepping closer. I glance to the sign. “It would be nice” “I could give you one, and a nice bath” I was about to decline, I don’t like company, when a voice in the back of my head mentioned that ‘it would be nice to have company for once’, and that ‘we have slept alone for a long time’ It could be nice I guess, and I am sore. “Please” is all I say. “This way cutie, and you can call me Platnium” she says as she tugs at my hoof leading me away from the bar. The smell and texture is strange to my sleep addled brain and it confuses me before I realise that I’m curled up with Platinum from last night, muzzle pressed into her soft blue mane, and I feel relaxed for the first time in a long time, and rid of sand. I really don’t want to leave. She senses that I’m awake as she shifts to look at me. “Hey, how are you feeling” ash asks in that soft voice that i’m getting attached to. ……. “Content” I say after a moment. She smiles. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to go anywhere” “Mm” I murmur and press my face into her mane. Goddesses I missed company. I’m relaxed and happy, almost convinced to stay another day, something I never do. Then I hear that unmistakable sound, muffled by the walls but distinct. Gunshots. We both sit up with a start and a voice sounds out. “Hey Traveller, we know you’re in there, get out here, and we won’t torch the town.” Platinum looks towards me. “Who do you think they’re after” she asks as I start to get up. “Stay” Is all I say. I pause only to grab the double barrel and the bullet loops filled with shells as i make my way out. No rest for the damned. In the centre of town facing the tavern is seven ponies lined in a row, guns pointed to the tavern, barding that same spiked cobbled together look that has become iconic of raiders. And yet the guards all watching, no guns out, no concern, as if it was business as usual. “So you’re the one?” “Depends” “Don’t fuck around with me, You’re the one who shot up Vacancy ain’tcha?” “As I recall” I reply in a flat tone. “What the fucks that mean” …….. “Yes” “Right, good” The raider turns to the watching crowd, and begins to shout, “You see, this is why you fuckers pay us bribe money, because if you fuck with us, we find you and we fucking kill your stupid ass, you’re sheep and we’re wolves and don’t you fuckin forget it.” I hate monologues. I barely get a single shotgun blast off, before the raiders undo all the hard work the doctor did, and all the softness and relaxation given to me from Platinum, pain that I’ve felt before floods me as 6 of the raiders shoot at me. These ones can aim. I miss company. It’s a strange feeling, a pony that you spent the night with and being buried not two hours later. And Traveller was so sweet, soft and nice, that it seemed a crime for their life to be ended, but here we are. The raiders left shortly after, not lingering and leaving the Travellers dead body in the street. I haven’t felt good all day. Leaving town, I walk towards the graveyard that we have just outside the town, I don’t know why I’m visiting again the next day, I like to think that I make a connection to everyone I’m with. …………. …………. …………. The grave is empty. It looks like a fresh dug grave, I think it’s the wrong one, the wooden headstone reads “Traveller” I don’t understand, I look around and I can see Hoofprints leading away from the grave, and away from the town. The Traveller is gone. Author's Note Endurance: 10
Chaper 2I don't think I'll go back, I want to, the sun is too bright and my packs are still in town. I won't however, not allowed to stay, besides raiders will probably show up again. Its bad to stay in one spot for too long. It takes too long to walk now, front leg is fairly useless after ..... all that. should probably get it fixed. So bright, the sun is hot against my bare fur and I realise the sand has been heating up as I walk. .... Wait... When did the sun come out? I only remember clouds the last 27 years. I turn change my direction to the north and walk off the road towards equestrian proper. I wonder whats happened, guess I'll check it out. It takes 9 hours through the desert, on a limp leg and bullet wounds. no water, no food. A good day. This town is different, where the other one, Ash-something was made of scrap walls and buildings, built at the edge of a ravine, This town is build in a mine. Several carts sit in a semi-circle around the cliff side entrance to the mine, reinforced by scrap metal and sandbags. in front of one of the carts is a well painted sign on plywood "WELCOME TO DIRTHOLE, NO WEAPONS, NO GHOULS, NO DRUGS, NO EXCEPTIONS." ..... Dirthole? ..... Weird I walk up to the front cart, where upon, a pony in a duster sits ...oddly on a chair under an umbrella. As I stop in front of him he looks towards me and says in a clipped tone, "Sorry, no admittance" ..... "Why?" "Raider activity nearby, can't be too careful, you might be their spy" I look down at myself, my brown fur is matted with a mixture of sand and the skin is badly scarred, my left front leg is so blood soaked from my shoulder to hoof it looks like someone else's leg, and somehow I haven't noticed until now that my tail is completely shorn off. I look more corpse than raider. "Really?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him. "Yes. Really, I don't know who you are, never seen you before." he answers. ..... "Unless of course" he continues, "you show your willingness to contribute to our fine town with a small advancement of taxes" A bribe. Figures. "And if I get rid of the raiders" I ask, squinting up at him. "I'd be surprised, you look like you're about to keel over" And yet he won't let me in so I don't ...... "Which way?" He looks at me sceptically, as if trying to read what I'm thinking "North-west from here about two hours as the Pegasus flies, But I wouldn't recommend it, they don't mess around over there" he finally answers. I start to walk away, circling around the caravans until I'm walking north-west. Rising hills and cliffs of rocky outcroppings block any view beyond them sit just past the town entrance and just above them is Celestia's sun, slowly setting. That's going to take me longer than two hours. ..... My hooves hurt. 5 hours later, standing on the top of the cliff I look down at the concrete building nestled in the end of a canyon, lit up by braziers and fire pits, outside the compound the valleys and cliffs bathed in the light of the moon. the building sits two stories high but the rooftop still sits far below the crests of the cliffs. several old trucks lay ruined outside and and past the chain link fence surrounding the compound, an old dirt road leads northward, winding its way through the valleys. The raiders have set up several tents and towers made of scrap. 7 outside, unknown number inside. Inventory: Nothing. Injuries: Many. Will to live: Questionable. ..... Sigh "listen I was thinking" "That's a horrifying concept" the other voice replied "No shut up, I was thinking," the first one pressed on. "Why are we even raiding anymore, I mean we got a pretty good setup here, Water, Guns, enough canned food to last until the next Megaspells drop, and a good defensible spot, we could just make it a town and let the suckers pay us to use our supplies" If they did, he had a point "Cause we're raiders, 's what we do, we raid" "Yeah but my point is we don't have to" "listen, half of us nut jobs are only here to raid and do what we want, civilised world died, and with it bein civil, sides, sounds fucking boring" It was a good thing they were so wrapped up in conversation that it made it easy to sneak past. The fence is worn and broken, and there's a significant gap under it where something had crawled through long ago. I look behind me at the shack I had past. the raiders inside still haven't noticed me. Time to wiggle through, In the dirt. not that it matters as currently there is more dirt on me than fur. Getting down I push some dirt aside to deepen the hold and start to wriggle under. I figure its best to start inside rather than out, more defensible position, and hopefully a weapon. the gap is small and after scratching myself on the metal, inhaling dirt, suppressing several sneezes and stopping to untangle my mane from the fence, I get myself up on the other side of the fence, the building across the sand covered asphalt of the compound is boring looking, a two story concrete building sticking out of the ground, no balcony, or second floor exits, on the left of the building is a loading dock, large garage doors that haven't been opened in a long while as sand has built up against them. Above the main entrance is a single sign that reads IRONSHOD FIREARMS STORAGE FACILITY, AUTHORISED PONIES ONLY Raiders with a weapons cache. That's not a good sign. I am still crouched down in the sand and dirt, the dark of the night giving me some cover, and in between the building and myself are a few shacks, from within, muffled conversation makes its way across to me. .... What IS the difference between dirt and sand? ..... Straining my ears, I try to catch some words. Nothing. Too far away. Keeping low near the fence I start to circle around the shacks towards the main building. The sand helps to muffle my hoofsteps and soon enough I find myself at the loading dock. peaking around the side of the building I find my way in. Up against the wall of The building about halfway along Is a metal hatch set at an angle into the ground. A basement hatch. as I round the corner and make my way over, I quickly glance behind me to the shacks, no alarms yet. Grabbing the handle with my mouth I can taste the black paint that covers the hatch as I pull it open, the hatch groans and metal squeals as metal grinds against metal. Shit I hope they didn't hear that. With a final tug of my shoulders and neck I pull the door open the rest of the way, the hatch falls and sinks itself into the sand. I stop and strain my ears listening. ..... Nothing, I let out a sigh or relief and look down the steep stairs that descend into the pitch black darkness of the basement, and for a moment, it felt like decending into Tartarus. Author's Note Level up: perk gained: Toughness "Its all about how hard you can get hit."
Chapter 3Dust. A pony once said that 90% of all dust is skin, If so, somepony had a bad time in here, the floor of the basement is covered at least an inch of dust. I strain my eyes in the darkness of the basement, surrounding me are metal crates that fill the space to to low ceiling, creating narrow passages, in the dim light on each of them is the logo of Ironshod Firearms. My head starts to hurt from Peering into the darkness, and now that I have stopped, it all starts to catch up to me, Dull pain throbs in my head like a constant unrelenting pressure and my vision blurs, my hooves under me feel weak and broken, And my heart pounds inside of me as if I have run a marathon. my guts feel like they wish to rebel and I remember that I have not eaten in days, and every moment I put pressure upon my left front hoof, dull old pain throbs through me from my shoulder. I need to rest, can't fight, not yet, have to find meds, healing potion, painkillers, anything. Creeping forward I look down the corridors of steel and rust, at the end of the right passage is a door set into the concrete wall. I make my way over and push down upon the lever handle, Its too dark to see and after a moments search, I press down upon the light switch and a single bulb flashes to life, forcing me to blink away the sudden light. Inside is a small windowless room with shelves and tools, a small desk sits at the end, Good enough. I turn around a close the door as quietly as I can and listen. Its silent, all I can hear is my own breathing and heart beating like thunder in my chest. Gotta calm down. My hooves collapse from under me and I lean against the desk and try to calm the storm inside of me. I spend some time In the dark basement, dust, sand and dried blood itching, and every second that passes, aware that my wounds are slowly taking their toll upon me. Parts of me still feel wrong and twisted, like they weren't meant to be fixed, wounds stitched together by unnatural magic, looking down at my chest I can just see the warped and stretched scar tissue crisscrossing my chest and neck underneath the grime and fur. Celestia and Luna damned Zebras. So tried, so sore. ..... I think I'll rest a moment more. Hoofsteps, one pony, muffled by the dust, metal upon concrete, armoured, slight gait, wounded in the front leg. Raider. My eyes shoot open and I look to the door, still closed, I am laying on the floor at this point, and as I listen, every hoofstep grows louder. Need a weapon. With as little sound as I can, I look around the cramped room, Fan, desk, coffee cup, sparkle cola bottle, cigarettes, A stack of Nude magazines with posing mares on it, an Ironshod Firearms poster on the wall, and a crowbar wedged between the side of the desk and the wall Scrambling to my hooves, I reach for the Crowbar, Its a long Red thing, A rubber grip sits midway down the handle, a Metal loop extends out of It to allow better control with hooves, and each end has been sharpened, It will have to do. I've just picked it up in my mouth when the door opens, I spin around. In the doorway Is a single raider mare, dark, dull red in colour with what was once a white mane shaved into a short messy spiked mohawk, looking at me with surprise, dirt cakes her torso and mane, a chipped and cracked horn extends from under her mane, Her legs covered with patchwork metal armour except for the front left leg, amputated half way up and fitted with a wide blade its point resting upon the ground. I charge, using the surprise to my advantage, I hook the curved end of the crowbar around her neck and drag her into the room, causing her to crash hard into the desk, and kick the door shut behind me. She reacts and recovers faster than I anticipate, a white glow appears around her horn and she hurls the fan at me with her magic, I dodge it and she leaps at me, I swing wildly and catch her in the head with the blunt end of the crowbar, a sickening crack fills the room and she is sent colliding with the shelf before falling to the floor. I move over to her as she rolls onto her back, blood seeping from a wound on her head and I swing the crowbar down at her. White magic flare as she draws the pistol on her belt, a small rusted revolver. As the crowbar collides with her head again, white hot pain lances through my head and I go blind and explosion rings out inside the room as the shot echos in the confined space and my hearing rings and my ears hurt and the left side of my head feels as if struck by lightning. I keel over onto the floor against the door and lay still, my ears full with a high pitch ringing that doesn't go away and the vision in my left eye gone. Fuck. I press my hoof to my eye and it throbs in pain, and my hoof comes away wet and the crimson colour of blood. Fuck. The mare Isn't moving, yet the deep slow movement of her chest tells me that she is alive. A blood seeps from a head wound, but its not deep. I should probably kill her, It would be wise. Otherwise she may live, wake up and come after me, raise the alarm, and do even more damage to me. ..... I need to get this fixed I can feel blood pouring down the side of my face and neck and struggle to my hooves. I feel dizzy, but manage to get to door open and stumble back into the dark basement. To the left the dust has been worn away by regular hoof prints. That's where she came from. The path in the dust follows the concrete wall of the basement around to a doorway on the far side of the room leading to a hallway, a lamp deep into the hallway casts a soft orange light. Rubble and dirt cover the hallway and off to the left, a door I stay peaking around the corner, with my good eye, waiting to see movement ..... Nothing. I stumble forward, gait unsteady towards the door, A sign on the right of the door says "Bathroom". bathrooms usually have healing pots. I try to door handle, but the lever stays in place. Locked. The door is thin, wooden, and cracked, hundreds of years has not been kind to it. I look around again, listening out for any noise. Its all quiet No choice I guess, the left side of me is covered in blood and I feel dizzy still, the wound in my head needs to be fixed. I take two steps back so my rump is pressed against the wall, hunch down and ram the door with my shoulder. The door frame cracks and the door flings open, after the second attempt, and I stumble in after it, colliding hard against the bathtub with my legs. Steadying myself on the tub I look around the room Its a small room, barely the size of a closet that the builders have crammed as much as the can into, the toilet sits pressed up against the rim of the bath that sits against the far wall, with barely enough room to clear the door. Behind the door I can glimpse a yellow box attached to the wall and a sink. I close the door with effort, squeezing my body against the bathtub to do so. A mirror sits next to the case and through the grimy mirror I see my refection. The bullet had grazed the left side of my head, catching my eye in the process, there was barely anything there anymore, the entire left side of me was drenched in the crimson red of blood, my long tan mane tangled and caked with dirt, and brown fur so covered in mud, sand and blood, that it could barely be seen. The only undamaged and clean part of me it my one remaining blue eye staring back at me. The box is a small square case, faded yellow with a pink butterfly on it. Finally, some good luck. Inside are the objects of my search, two slightly faded healing potions and several bandages. I down the potions instantly and start to feel the wounds on my face, limbs and the bullet wounds begin to close, I avoid looking at the mirror. Slowly my vision starts to blur as my eye is, urgh, rebuilt and the pain in my head is reduced to merely a dull roar, and after some time, I can see properly again. I use the bandages to start to wipe the blood and muck off me as best as I can and soon the once white bandages are a dark brown colour, I try the tap on the sink and a foul smelling, slightly glowing liquid pours forth. Guess not. Looking back at the mirror, my eye and side of head are back to normal now, and I am only filthy instead of disgustingly filthy. ...... I should have been dead, a normal pony would have. ...... Sometimes I hate being alive like this. Author's Note Luck: 2
