Fallout: Equestria - Whispers

Fallout: Equestria - Whispers

Written by Kingofhills

Chapter 3: Junk Hoard

“Into each life, some rain must fall…”

I am still not sure what I felt back then, when that hoof poked me.

A huge part of me just wanted to hide deeper in my shell, to internalize the pain and anguish and let it boil down within me, without anypony’s interference. In much simpler words, I wanted to be left alone. A smaller part of me wanted to have someone’s shoulder to cry on. Normally that task would be on my dad, but… yeah. Yet another part of me wanted to run again, because all the contact with the outside world creatures up until that point proved to be less than pleasant. A plan had already formed in my head that promised a fairly high chance of survival.

First, I would, somehow, escape the intruder. Then I would use the ruins to cover my escape; sticking to the walls and listening to her hoofsteps should do the trick. Then I would go towards Junk Hoard again; having rested some time, I probably had enough strength to reach the place. Should I need to, I could always circle around a little to avoid contact with other denizens of the wasteland.

Most parts of the plan held strong, but I definitely needed to address the elephant in the room that was the previously mentioned mare. Her voice sounded so rough that I had serious doubts whether she had any chance of being friendly, which, frankly, was the sole reason I came up with this hasty escape plan. On the other hoof, looks - or is it “hears”? - can be deceiving, but was I really willing to risk it?

I may not have been thinking straight at the time, because after quick deliberation I came to a conclusion that simply ignoring the female until she went away was my best chance of survival. I somehow didn’t even think of shapeshifting into a tiny creature, or just running away like a normal pony would, or delivering a swift blow to her head and using her shock to escape. No, I decided to ignore her. Because surely, after sufficiently long time, a random stranger would just give up on bothering an unresponsive, weird creature they found in the ruins... right?

Wrong.

Of course I was wrong. A few more pokes later, I let out a startled yelp as I felt that very same hoof lifting me up without any problem whatsoever. Were it not for the sudden lift off, I probably would have admired her superior strength. My head was forced to look at her face, only to notice a smug, amused smirk on it.

“Now, do I really deserve to be treated so rudely?” she asked in that rough voice again. I looked at her with fear mixed with disbelief while she kept that amused grin.

“What do you want?” I retorted with a pitch slightly higher than I would like to admit.

In response, the mare simply shrugged and replied in her oddly casual tone. “To know who you are, for one. That, and to know what you are doing sleeping in the ruins of Oathike, which are widely known as a wild mongrels’ den.”

I widened my eyes, and the mare let out a deep, hearty chuckle. I still kept quiet, not really willing to answer, so eventually she began to turn away.

“I guess I can’t force you to answer, so... good luck out there and-”

“Wait!” I interrupted her, getting off the ground and approaching the huge mare. Only now did I have enough guts to properly look at her. The dirty, dark blue coat was covered in brownish patches of dirt here and there. That, in addition to the generally poor state of her short, black mane and tail gave the mare a ‘wastelander’ kind of look. It was complimented by a set of sturdy-looking leather armor which, luckily, did not sport any skulls, spikes or other unnecessarily aggressive additions. Overall, her stature fit her voice well - the mare was surprisingly tall!

As she eyed me with curiosity and amusement, I cleared my throat and spoke again. “Do you know the way to Junk Hoard?”

At that, her eyes finally gained a slightly friendlier look. A small smile adored her muzzle as she turned her entire body around.

“I’m headed there. I left some of my stuff there to lighten my load, since I had quite a long way to go,” she replied, and I must have involuntarily smiled quite widely, as she let out a loud laugh. “I can let you tag along… under one condition.”

My ears drooped. I already had a feeling where this was going.

“You are going to tell me something about yourself. More specifically, what exactly happened to you to make you all… black, and shell-covered,” she noted, contrary to my expectations. Admittedly, such a low price for practically being escorted to a nearby settlement was a nice piece of variety in this otherwise hostile world. Even though I did not hear, or feel, any hostility coming from this mare, the recent events taught me that a pony’s attitude can change in a span of seconds. I also quietly cursed under my breath for not remembering to get back to my usual disguise before resting.

Finally, after a short while of hesitation, I replied. “I’m… a mutant. Since birth, I’ve had this… chitin-like cover on my fur, those odd wings that don’t work, and a horn that barely does work.” The lie was far from perfect, but there was not much room for preparation here, so I carried on with it. “As you can imagine, I’m not very welcome in most communities because of my looks.”

“Yeah, I can imagine alright,” snorted the mare. “You look like a fifth degree burn victim with glowy eyes. Uh… no offense.”

I raised a brow at that comparison, but did not comment on it. Instead, I shrugged and continued. “So the upside of that mutation is that I can change my shape slightly to look more… plausible to your everyday-”

“Oh, wait! I recognise you now. You’re a changeling!”

The mare’s voice not only interrupted my train of thought, it made said train derail and crash completely. I was speechless. Yet another person who knew of the existence of changelings, heck - had strong opinions on them, without even knowing what exactly they looked like? What the hell was wrong with these ponies? It’s not like I blended in with the crowd!

What baffled me even more was the friendly tone she said those words in. It was such a huge difference compared to the unicorn from the previous day! While the stallion was almost fanatically eager to kill me on the spot, this stranger seemed not to mind me being a shapeshifter at all! I couldn’t wrap my head around this, so I simply stammered out some incoherent gibberish. At the sound of that, the dark blue mare laughed shortly.

“I guessed that right, didn’t I? Honestly, I didn’t expect I'd ever meet a changeling in my life! Talk about a lucky find, eh?” She said in a tone that was much more upbeat than it had the right to be. I finally gathered my thoughts, blinked a few times, and attempted not to look as confused as I probably did for the past couple of seconds.

“How do you know what I am?” I asked, giving up on the already weak cover-up story of being a mutant. In response, the mare only laughed once again. That laughter was starting to slightly irritate me.

“Are you kidding me? My mom used to tell me lots of stories about how changelings helped protect the north of Equestria during the war. And the spy stories! I used to want to be like you guys back when I was a kid!” She spoke with clear excitement, though I almost stopped listening halfway through. Another issue has taken over my thoughts; one related to the bi-polar nature of my ‘fame’.

I shook my head and sighed. “Alright. Yes, I'm a changeling. My name’s Tinkerbelt, but call me Tinker. And please, don’t go out shouting about that little… secret of mine, will you? I’ve already had a run-in with a unicorn that does not quite like my kind.”

In response, the earth pony snorted and waved a hoof. “No worries. That must have been some old, crazy-ass bastard, or a prepper. Most ponies in these parts would love to shake hooves with you, I’m sure!” She retorted. Right as I was about to reply, she added another thing in. “Oh, and… I’m Rainfall.”

I finally allowed a smile to creep onto my cheeks. “Nice to meet you, Rainfall. I'll still keep my disguise up. I’d like to keep the risk low, you know.”

“Of course!” Rainfall replied in her upbeat tone once again. “Hell, that sounds like I’m part of a spy story myself!”

I rolled my eyes and moved over to gather my bearings. “Lead the way, please. I’d like to be in Junk Hoard today. Someone is waiting for me there… I hope.”

It was at that moment that Rain remembered about my request from earlier. She let out a little “Oh!” of recognition. “Right. Let’s go,” she said, turning around, with her tail now facing me as she made her way out of the building. With little in terms of choice, I quickly focused to bring up my usual disguise of a brown earth pony, fortunately without any further comments from the mare. I followed her, moving out from the ruins, with my saddlebags and the toolbag safely hanging from either side of the saddle.

* * *

“So how did you wind up in Oathike?”

My supposed saviour, much to my dismay, was not one of the quiet types. In fact, she was almost too talkative, for what her tone of voice and her general posture would suggest. Her mouth opened every now and then, asking me more and more questions such as ‘where did I come from’, ‘did I have any friends’, ‘what skills did I possess’ and so on. Time after time I answered, since ignoring her proved to be fruitless; she would probably just lift me by my hooves until I replied. At that point, with yet another question aimed at me, I sighed in irritation.

“It’s kind of a long story,” I finally said. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.” Thankfully, that managed to shut the tall mare up for a moment long enough for me to take a good look around, though I saw in the corner of my eye how she huffed with a displeased expression.

We were passing a small parking lot filled with old pieces of junk that used to be motorwagons once upon a time. The rusted husks were mostly stripped for parts and left to be consumed by the elements, meaning there was not much to be found in them. We tried anyway, just to see if years of scavenging left anything worthwhile to look for, but we predictably ended up with empty hooves.

The parking lot itself was adjacent to what must have been a public park of some kind. A couple of feet to the east of the lot, if my sense of direction and time did not fail me, the ever present patches of conifers increased in density, with dead, needle-like leaves scattered on the ground in much higher amounts than usual. Unlike most of the flora in this region, those tall, hardened trees managed to withstand the test of time and still kept their yearly cycle going; although the sight was far from the pre-war forests must have looked like. Probably.

Much to my relief, we didn’t take a single step into the forest. Having never been in one, I’m fairly sure I would immediately get lost even if I were to look straight at Rain’s rump... to get myself oriented, of course. The ground was getting steeper as well, so finding my way out, without even being able to see where “out” could possibly be, practically bordered impossibility.

“So who’s waiting for you out there?” I heard the mare’s voice again, and I let out a resigned sigh. I was fairly sure she didn’t mean to drive me nuts, but she was still pretty good at it. There was no helping that, though, so I did eventually address her question.

“My dad. We got separated when our village was attacked by raiders,” I said, not even looking at her. “He told me to find Junk Hoard in the first place. If I’m lucky, he’s already there. If I’m not lucky, then…” I hesitated, then frowned. “I guess I’ll see when I get there.”

“...Damn. I’m sorry to hear about your village,” Rainfall muttered out in reply. Did I feel a hint of embarrassment in her? Or perhaps she just felt bad about asking so many questions. “I’m sure he’s already there, worried out of his mind about you.”

I appreciated the thought, but I didn’t reply at the time. We passed the parking lot, while the adjacent park was still visible as we carried on. Although we kept a steady pace and our walk was relatively quiet, Rainfall seemed bothered by something whenever I spared a glance in her direction. Finally, with a bit of hesitation, I spoke up.

“How about you? You got anyone waiting for you out there?”

The mare shook her head in response, shifting slightly to adjust her saddlebags. “Nope. I’m all on my own in this lovely little world of ours.” And while her tone of voice retained its unfittingly chirpy nature, it did feel a little more empty from how she spoke just a moment earlier.

“Oh. Um… I’m sorry,” I muttered in response, not sure what else to say. Luckily, Rainfall smiled and nodded to me in return.

"It's been a long time now. I've managed." It was all she was willing to say at the moment, which allowed us to keep going in silence for once. I was not keen on pushing the conversation; the one we’ve just had was probably quite taxing. For both of us.

Eventually, as we kept going, even the park disappeared behind the horizon, replaced once again by the depressingly barren landscape of the cold wasteland.

I used the free time to ponder on the latest events. It certainly felt nice to meet somepony who wasn’t hostile for once, and yet... the thoughts about the previous evening kept appearing at the back of my mind. I was wondering what my apparent ancestors did during the wartime. Who should I believe: the crazy, racist unicorn, or my recently met friend? Logic suggested believing the mare, since she at least had some base for her beliefs, but… there must have been some reason for the stallion to go nuts. Bad memories? From what? That would suggest there were more of my kind out there, but they were not exactly friendly to the local populace. I hoped that whatever changelings I would find would at least cooperate with the wasteland dwellers, including me.

Then there was that weird dream I had. This alien metropolis I’ve seen back then was sprawling with life, but they were about to go to war with Equestria. That obviously backfired, since their leader was assassinated shortly after, but… what if that did happen in the end, and that was what the stallion was talking about?

But in that case, Rainfall’s version did not make much sense. If we attacked Equestria, we wouldn’t have helped the ponies during their war with the zebras… right? I let out a quiet, frustrated huff. History was never my favourite thing to learn. I’d much preferred screwing around with tools and making exciting stuff in my room. Rain looked at me with curiosity on her face.

“Something wrong?” I heard her ask. In response, I shook my head in dismissal.

“Nothing. Just… thinking,” I replied.

The mare snorted. “Don’t think too much, it’s not healthy in the long run.” I looked at her with a puzzled expression, but before I could ask her what she meant, she pointed out another thing. “We’re almost there.”

I immediately focused on this new revelation, looking out for a sign of… well, anything that resembled a town. Yet wherever I looked, there was no sign of walls, nor did I see any buildings - not even ruined ones. The surroundings slowly turned from dead plains to hills and small mountains, obscuring the view as well.

With time, I was panting from the increased effort; walking upwards was surprisingly much more difficult than walking on a leveled surface! I could only commend anyone who built their defensive positions on a high vantage point. Most attackers would get tired even before the real fighting would begin!

That is, unless they had wings. I looked at my back hesitantly. While I still kept my disguise, I allowed a bit of the changeling magic to reveal those insect-like wings. The green-tinted flame subtly lingered along my back, and wherever it touched, my wings slowly formed. Finally, there they were, growing out of a hole in the coat, their semi-translucent membrane only partially covering the creamy brown material.

At first, I tried using them while keeping the rest of my disguise on, but that proved to be completely impossible. As it turns out, earth ponies are heavy. Looking around, I saw nothing but the hills getting steeper. Not a single building, not even a single tree where someone could hide and spot my abrupt change. Deciding to take the risk, I called out to Rainfall to stop for a while, before giving up on said disguise completely. The bright flames engulfed me, and then I was once again a bug-pony. The mare seemed more fascinated than startled, but she luckily didn’t say anything.

I took an attempt to lift up and at least hover in the air for a moment. As much as I tried, though, I couldn’t focus on the wing movement for long enough before my muscles strained. I eventually fell down onto the ground after a couple of seconds of simple hovering, panting even harder. It simply felt as if those wings were way too thin to lift my body.

I could seriously use a flying lesson. But not only were there no changelings that could teach me, I have never seen a pegasus in my life, either! I knew there were griffons, too, but their wings were built very differently to a pony’s, much less in comparison to mine. I once asked the ones that lived in Sheepshead if they could tell me something about flying, but all they said was that “it came naturally” to them. Needless to say, that did not help at all.

And so I was left with wings that didn’t really do much. Rainfall observed my repeated attempts at flying with curious amusement for a while. Finally, she spoke up after the fourth fall or so.

“I can carry you upwards if it’s that tiring, you know,” I heard her speak with a cheeky smirk apparent on her face. I felt warmth rush to my cheeks as I looked away from the mare.

“Uh… no, thanks. I’ll manage on my own,” I retorted, giving up on the idea of flying for now. One day, maybe…

Our journey continued for a while longer. I took my pony form again after failing to fly, and carried on trying to utilise the more developed earth pony muscles to not get tired as quickly. The sight of the landscape behind us growing smaller and smaller as we progressed further was very impressive, especially to someone like me, who has been living on plains for my entire life. Sheepshead was way too far for me to spot, but I could still see quite a decent area. I even recognised some minor landmarks we passed on our way! Judging by the general lighting, it was well past noon.

What eventually stopped me, quite literally so, was Rainfall’s hoof. I focused back on the road ahead of us, except there was no more road. Instead, we stood before what could only be described as a junk gate. The structure was not very tall or impressive, but it and the walls extending from it did what they were probably supposed to do: deter wild animals and smaller raider parties. It was mostly composed of old, rusting metal elements such as wagon wrecks, steel sheets, bent beams, barrels and tire elements; the same went for the walls jutting out of the structure.

The gate itself was broad enough to fit a brahmin through. It was currently closed, but if my eyes were not deceiving me, there was a lifting mechanism attached at the top. The chains were attached on either side of the broad sheet of metal blocking the entrance. Said gate also must have had some stairs or a ladder that allowed ponies to get onto it, because two of them were currently looking down at us.

“Oi! Who are you and what’s your business here?” Came a young mare’s voice as she casually fixed her position, preparing her rifle to shoot at any sign of trouble. At least they weren’t aiming at us yet.

I was glad I had Rain by my side, as she stepped out and shouted back to the mare. “Name’s Rainfall. I’ve been to Junk Hoard a couple of times now, and I’ve got news for mayor Gentlehoof!” She shouted back, her voice booming across the hilly landscape. Seriously, her voice had the potential to be carried on for miles! At the mention of the mayor, the gate guard visibly relaxed, though she did still eye me with suspicion.

“Alright, sounds good. And who’s your pal over here?” She inquired, pointing a hoof at me. By Rain’s silence, I assumed she expected me to introduce myself. I cleared my throat and took a couple of steps forward to instill confidence in myself.

“My name is Tinkerbelt. I’m a mechanic, and I come as a refugee from the recently raided village of Sheepshead,” I spoke out, deciding to go for the fairly truthful approach. Truth be told, I did not have anything bad to hide, so there was little point in coming up with an elaborate persona for me to take over while I was here. I could hear the guardsmare mutter out a curse word under her nose.

“Sheepshead’s gone? Shit… Well in that case - step inside, you two. The mayor will want to hear about this attack,” the mare called out to us, immediately signalling to someone out of our sight to lift the rusty gate up. Even though something in my chest sank at her comment, my face remained relatively emotionless. I’ve had enough crying last evening. I gave the guardsmare a nod of thanks, glanced at Rainfall who had joined me, and together we stepped inside the walls of Junk Hoard as the metal creaked and groaned from the gate being opened.

Now I may not have been around many towns in my life, but what stood before my eyes was definitely unique in more ways than one. What would be called a simple courtyard before the main gate in Sheepshead was completely nonexistent in Junk Hoard; There was no broad, open space in front of me, there was no main street, and there weren't even any buildings anywhere nearby! Instead, all I saw was a relatively large industrial elevator to the right of the entrance, and a pathway to the left, which led down into what appeared to be a broad chasm. We were standing at one of the edges of said chasm, at the top. As I stepped out to see just how deep the ravine went, I immediately took a step backwards.

Junk Hoard was a town situated on the walls of a gorge at least ninety feet deep and a hundred and twenty feet wide at its peak. The steep, yet positively inclined, massive blocks of hard rock had numerous supports jutting out of them at near 90 degree angles, supporting catwalks, walkways, and even broader areas where a couple of ponies could fit onto a platform. A couple of buildings were fixed to the rocky masses on either side, though they were not large in size, likely due to engineering restrictions. Long rope bridges connected the opposite sides of the gorge in a couple of places, disappearing into well-lit tunnels that probably housed even more spaces that served as functional areas such as a shop, a tavern, and many households.

The sight was baffling, to say the least. Who in their sane mind thought that building an entire town practically hanging off a ravine was a good idea?! The threat of collapsing alone should have been enough to make these ponies reconsider their choice! A feeling of dread ran down my spine as I imagined a couple of random ponies, without an engineer supervisor, happily sticking a bunch of supports into an unstable segment of the wall, only for it all to collapse in one, catastrophic motion…

Rainfall must have noticed my expression, since I heard her snicker once again as she pulled me away from the viewpoint.

“Come on, pipsqueak. Junk Hoard’s been around for at least a hundred years now, and those walkways supported ponies far larger and heavier than you or me,” the mare assured, motioning at me to follow her down the pathway. I looked uncertainly at the elevator nearby, but seeing that she was not stopping, I hastily followed her. Getting lost in this horrifying place was the last thing I wanted to do!

The pathway was carved into the wall just like most things in this town. Sheets of old metal grating were put in some places, most often to cover up a damaged section or to provide a slightly more stable footing in otherwise slippery areas. The whole town had a distinct, industrially junky feel to it. Vastly different from the pre-war architecture of Sheepshead, the rusted metal shacks followed the principle of efficiency and practicality over good looks. Not much of a surprise, given the circumstances; I’m fairly sure my home would collapse if hung on a sheer cliff.

My E.F.S went crazy with neutral markers, so I disabled it quickly and stuffed it into one of the small pockets of my saddlebag to keep it safe. As we descended, I took a better look at the settlers. Most of them were earth ponies, one of which had an odd-looking contraption attached to what seemed to be a modified battle saddle. Said contraption looked like a pair of thick, metal arms with blunt endings, with an even thicker base at either side of the saddle, jutting out at an almost perpendicular angle and measuring about two feet or so. I had no idea what this could possibly be used for, but it definitely looked heavy. I assumed only earth ponies could reasonably wear it without straining themselves after a couple of minutes.

Surprisingly, there were a couple of griffons in there as well. Some were flying over the makeshift bridges and minding their own business; a small group of feathered hybrids was lounging in what I could best describe as a small resting place on a rocky shelf, with a bunch of old furniture strewn around. I noticed that the majority of the resting group was wearing combat armor, which once probably used to be black, but now was painted over in a shade of bleak white. One of them must have seen me, because I saw him wave his hand at me. I smiled slightly and returned the gesture; only now did I realise how much I appreciated non-hostile contact with other denizens of the wasteland.

We eventually crossed the bridge that led to the other side of the gorge (I had to stop and regain my balance twice, that’s how intimidating that experience was) and stopped in front of a building with a sign that looked like it was ripped straight from an old store’s forefront. The faded letters were crossed out and replaced with the word “Socket’s” in an oily, black paint. It contrasted fairly well against the dirty blue background of the sign. Rainfall looked at the sign, then leaned in to speak to me.

“I need to see a guy before we head to the mayor, so I’ll leave you for now. You can try looking for your dad,” she suggested, to which I frowned.

“He’s not here,” I replied. “The guard didn’t know about the attack on Sheepshead. He would have told her.”

Rainfall pondered for a moment, before replying with a shrug. “You never know. Maybe he met a different shift and the news hasn’t spread out yet? Go ahead, ask the locals. I’ll be around,” the older mare replied. I doubted her words would turn out to be true, but I still gave her a reluctant smile and a nod, before she disappeared inside the building.

While I could spend a whole day looking around and admiring this incredibly odd, yet marvelous feat of engineering, Rainfall was right. Now was the best time to look around and, perhaps, learn something about this odd town. After a short while of searching for possible points of interests, my eyes laid on the group of griffons that I noticed earlier, some of which were observing me with a curious look. I gave them a similar, interested gaze, to which they reacted with an inviting gesture of their hands. Seeing no better option at the moment, I eventually approached them with a dose of reluctance.

The group consisted of four griffons, three of which wore the distinct combat armor I noticed earlier. Now that I was close, I could see old markings, scratch marks, darkened spots and other kinds of proof of wear and tear. Despite that, the protective gear still looked clean and carefully maintained; not a single loose screw, not even one strap misaligned, all plates in their place... Clearly, these griffons cared deeply about their equipment. I saw one of them nod at me as their attention shifted towards me.

“New guy in town?” One of the griffons asked, his voice surprisingly friendly. For their tough looks I definitely expected a rougher, no-brahmincrap kind of attitude. I tilted my head to the side, looking at him in mild surprise.

“How'd you know?” I asked, before realising how silly that must have sounded and shaking my head. “No, wait… I think I know. I look like a new guy, because I keep looking around instead of knowing exactly where to go. That, and I didn't recognise you, even though I probably should've. Is that right?” I immediately followed with an explanation as it came to my mind. The avian before me smirked.

“Well aren’t you a smartass,” he said, reaching out to ruffle my mane. I wasn’t quite happy with someone touching me like that, but… I was kind of afraid to protest. He wasn’t doing anything bad anyway, right? “You missed the point that we’ve never seen you around here, but yeah, you’re mostly right. So why don’t you introduce yourself?” he added, moving back a step. I haven’t seen too many griffons in my life, but he seemed quite well-built and confident. Combined with the fact that he was the one speaking, I could assume he was the leader of this bunch.

I finally looked up at the griffon, mustering a smile. “Name’s Tinkerbelt. Just a mechanic from Sheepshead,” I introduced myself, leaving out the unnecessary details. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen another stallion from Sheepshead around here recently?”

The griffon, as expected, shook his head. “Nope. In fact, you’re the first one to arrive from there in… hell, must be around a year or so.” I saw him shift in his position, offering his hand to shake. I reached out with my hoof to accept the awkward gesture. “I’m Lieutenant Marshwing from the Winterclaw Mercenaries. These here are Grim,” he said, gesturing towards the only non-armored griffon in the bunch, before moving over to the other two. “...Sunbill, and Rivernail.”

I nodded to each of the griffons introduced before speaking to Marshwing again. “Winterclaw Mercenaries?” I asked in a curious tone. A chuckle escaped the avian before me.

“You really aren’t from these parts, are you?” He asked, as if to confirm his suspicions. Before I could reply, he continued. “We’re the only group of mercenaries in this region. Used to be Talons, but we had a little… division, over our principles, so to speak.” His words may have had an impact if I actually knew who Talons were, but I decided not to press on that matter for now.

“I see. So… what exactly do you do in Junk Hoard?” I asked, glancing over the other armor griffons for a brief moment. The group didn’t seem to be going anywhere, so why would they wear their pristine armor in a town like this?

“It’s one of the settlements we protect,” Marshwing explained. “There are always a couple squads of Winterclaws around, even if this town isn’t really in much danger. Most of us keep watch out for wild animals during our patrols.”

I nodded in understanding, though something bothered me about the fact that there were mercs protecting such a small town. “The mayor has enough caps to pay for mercenaries?”

In response, a wistful smirk appeared on the lieutenant’s beak. “Apparently so. I don’t know the specifics, but him and Winterclaw herself have some kind of special deal going on.”

Before I could reply, another, gruff voice cut me off. “They’re shagging, obviously!” It belonged to Grim, the unarmoured griffon of the bunch, who now had a huge grin plastered over his beak. His intrusion was met with a reproval from Marshwing, but then Sunbill also stepped in.

“They’re not ‘shagging’, they’re just good friends! Besides, she’s a griffon and he’s a pony. Things just don’t work like that between our kinds!” He said in defence of both the mayor and their… I assumed commander in chief.

“Only makes it more interesting!” Grim retorted with a cackle. Sunbill looked at him with a furious look, but before any friendly violence could emerge, Marshwing spoke up again.

“That’s enough about Commander’s sexual life,” he said in a cold tone, immediately shutting both squabbling griffons up in an admirable feat of leadership and charisma. It also confirmed my assumption about her title, so at least one guess of mine was correct. He then turned his attention to me. “Sorry about them. Anything else you’d like to know?”

I shook my head and smiled apologetically. “As interesting as it is to talk with you, I need to find someone. Maybe the Mayor will know something...”

The lieutenant nodded in understanding. “If there’s anyone who could know about arrivals from other towns, it would be him. We won’t keep you occupied then. Stay safe out there!” He added. Smiling to him in return, I turned around and headed to the shop Rain stepped into. I wasn’t going to aimlessly wander in search of the mayor’s office when I could just go with the big gal instead!

Opening the door, I felt just like visiting our workshop back in Sheepshead. Less homey, of course, but the resemblance was obvious: it was clearly a place occupied by a craftspony. In contrast to my room, nothing was lying on the ground. Instead, a number of shelves were placed by the walls, filled with various junk and weapon parts: lenses, stocks, triggers, even parts of a battle saddle! All of the shelves were standing on the other side of the room, divided in two by a long counter, where I currently saw Rainfall passing some bits over to the clerk: an orange-coated stallion with a dirty cap on his head.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Socket,” I heard Rain speak. “I’ll come for it later when I’ll be leaving the town.”

“Sure thing Rain. Anytime!” I heard the chirpy voice of an orange-coated stallion, before his attention shifted towards me. “Ooh, a new customer! Come on in!” I heard him say excitedly. Rain turned her head to me and grinned.

I waved a hoof, smiling apologetically. “Oh, I’m just here to see if she’s done yet,” I said, nodding towards the mare.

“Actually, you may wanna see if Socket here has anything that catches your eye!” The earth pony mare retorted. The stallion looked at me expectantly, either not noticing or ignoring my uneasy smile. I didn’t plan on making any purchases, especially since my caps were… non-existent. After a short while I figured that it wouldn’t hurt to look… right?

The stallion behind the counter seemed to agree. “Come closer, come closer! We have a wide selection of goods and junk; anything you may need, you can probably find it here at Socket’s!” The clerk spoke in a typical voice of a guy who will try to sell you even the most useless thing he has.

I smiled at him and approached the counter, looking at the assortment of all kinds of weapons, modifications, and other pieces of mechanical stuff, half of which I could probably cobble together to create some funky device. If I had the caps, I would likely pick something up from that pile. Of course, the lack of funds also meant I wouldn’t be buying any sort of firearm, and besides… I was never taught how to shoot properly. Without training, I might accidentally put another hole through my legs if I wasn’t careful.

On the other hoof, there was the barding. Noticing a fairly decent-looking armor in the back corner of the room made me realise how ‘naked’ I was, trekking through the wastes. Everypony around here had some sort of protection over themselves. Even Grim, while he was not wearing his pristine combat armor, did seem to have strengthened materials lodged onto his clothing. Me? With just a coat, no matter how warm it might be, any stray bullet might spell the end of my adventure.

“Say, how much for that barding over there?” I asked, pointing a hoof at it. The stallion followed my hoof, looking at the stand, and smiled knowingly.

“Aye, our top quality leather barding. Light, but durable enough to withstand most lower caliber shots,” the shopkeeper spoke, moving over to the armor stand and putting it closer to the middle of the room, where the light was a bit better. I could see the studs at the edges of the leather, at the thicker parts of brown padding. The whole thing indeed seemed like a decently comfortable construction, and additionally interesting function was that all parts were detachable, by the looks of it.

“How much is it?” I asked, already dreading the answer.

“A thousand and two hundred caps, friend,” replied the stallion, drawing out a sigh from me. “We take either cash or-”

“Sorry, I’m way too poor for that,” I interrupted him. “Unless I can repay in hard work, I’m afraid I’ll have to pass for now.”

Socket nodded, only slightly dumbfounded. He probably wasn’t used to people interrupting his spiel. “I get it, no worries. You might wanna head over to the Mayor and ask him for a job, then. If you know a thing or two about generators, he might just have something for you.”

My ears perked up at that. “A job, you say? Can you tell me more about it?”

The stallion shrugged in response. “Something about the power source of ol’ Lifter breaking down. Really, you should ask Mayor Gentlehoof for details, I’m stuck to this workshop during most of the day.”

Nodding in thanks, I turned to Rain, who surprisingly remained silent throughout our conversation. “Ready to head out?”

With a short approval from the mare, we both said our goodbyes to the shopkeeper and left the shop. Rainfall snickered right after the door closed.

“I’m impressed, Tinker. Do you know how difficult it is to keep Wired Socket from babbling you to death?”

“I assume it’s as difficult as it is with you,” I replied, earning a laugh from the mare. Admittedly, I smiled a little, too.

A short while later Rainfall led us along the crevice wall, towards one of the cave entrances. At this point I was somewhat used to walking on sheets of relatively thin metal over a deep ravine, but stepping onto a solid ground was still a relief. The mayor’s office was located deeper into what turned out to be a complex system of caves and corridors. At that point I realised that, while most functional buildings were outside, the majority of housing found itself deeper in the rocks. I wondered why that was the case. Maybe the caverns were ultimately warmer than the outside world, especially during winter? Or maybe it was easier to heat them up with a generator?

Our trek was short and mostly uneventful. We passed a couple of local townsfolk and finally approached a walled-off section of the cave complex, with a simple sign spelling out “Mayor." Rainfall stopped, and looked at me.

“Well, I figure we can go in together, or take turns. I don’t mind either option,” spoke, leaving me with a rather simple decision.

“Let’s go in together and not waste any time.” I knocked, then pushed at the metal door; Rain followed me without delay.

The office was surprisingly comfy, for being situated in a cavern. Instead of the hard rock, it had actual dark, wooden, laminated panels that served as a substitute for your usual floor of a typical house. There was some furniture scattered around, with an oaken table in the middle being the most prominent, followed by a couple of old, leather-laden seats surrounding it. In one of those seats, behind the table, sat a surprisingly young unicorn with a funny looking, round, beige hat. He was holding a pack of cigarettes of a brand I didn't recognise in his telekinetic field, the bright glow of his magic complimenting his matte brown coat. Only after a couple of seconds did he spare us both a glance.

"Sit down," He gestured towards two of the leather chairs. Both me and Rainfall accepted the invitation rather swiftly. We'd both been on the road for a long while, and my hooves were absolutely killing me; I only realised that now that my rump could actually rest.

The brown stallion looked at us both with a judging look, before smiling.

"So what can I do for you two?" He asked, keeping a professional, yet kind tone of voice. I looked at Rainfall, who in turn looked at me. A single nod from me convinced her to start speaking first.

"I return from River Town," she said. I also listened intently, hoping to catch a glimpse of information about the outside world. "You may remember that you sent me there with a message."

"I do remember," the mayor nodded.

"Well, thanks to my innate charisma and flexible tongue, they've accepted your offer and want to meet on even ground for a trade agreement tomorrow," Rainfall finally said with a big grin, clearly proud of her mission. For some reason I was having a difficult time believing her claims.

The mayor didn't seem to care, though; he just smiled, but also frowned. "That's some great news. Tomorrow, though…? They're setting quite a rough timetable, but I guess we should go for it anyway. Where's the meeting settled again?"

"Old Colttown," the mare replied. I sincerely hoped Rainfall wouldn't mind introducing me to some of the locations in these parts of the Wasteland; at the very least, they would be good orientation points. Mayor Gentlehoof nodded again.

"At least it's not that far off... alright. Thank you, miss Rainfall. I'll have your payment ready in a moment," the mayor promised, getting up and heading over to one of the cupboards on the side of the room.

"In the meantime, in order not to waste much time, does your companion have anything to say?" He suddenly asked, turning his head to me. Taken so abruptly out of my train of thought actually left me gasping shortly as I looked back at him.

"Aah... um... Greetings, Mayor Gentlehoof. I'm Tinkerbelt," I finally introduced myself after an awkward, short pause. "I came here asking if there's any work for a repairspony, or a mechanic."

There was a brief moment of silence, interrupted only by steady clinking of caps falling into a leather bag. Once that was done, the stallion turned around and put the bag of caps in Rain's saddlebags.

"We don't really have any work for a repairspony in this town," he said, shaking his head. "We have enough engineers and mechanics around here to keep everything in a decent shape."

My ears drooped. So much for utilising my talents. How unlucky can a repairspony be to roam the wasteland, and the first and only place he was directed to is full of ponies who can probably do his job better than he can?

"However..."

My head lifted again as I focused my eyes on the stallion.

"You're not from around here, are you? I have a job that would require you to make a trip to a nearby factory."

I hesitated. If there's any place that could have long forgotten monsters inside it, it would be an old, abandoned factory. Still, I gave him a nod.

"I haven't been around for too long, but I guess I can go find that factory," I offered. Mayor Gentlehoof's eyes focused on me.

"Good. I need you to find a rotor for our generator," he explained. "Our local engineers don't really have any experience in the wastes, and the griffons will have no idea what to look for."

I carefully omitted the fact that I've been traveling for less than three days, and focused on the task instead. "What model do you guys have?" I asked. Of course, I barely knew anything specifically about generators, but giving an impression that I know what I'm talking about wouldn't hurt.

"You'd have to ask our chief engineer, Bigby, but it may not be necessary," the unicorn explained. "Our generator was built from the parts from that very factory a long time ago. I imagine that they didn't produce too many rotor variants. Still, if you want to meet the chief engineer, he lives just a bit further down the corridor."

I nodded. "Thanks. Will I meet any, uh... dangers in that factory?"

The unicorn nodded, confirming my suspicions. "Aside from the usual wasteland fauna, occasionally some ghouls appear on the production levels of the factory. We have no idea where they come from, nor why they keep coming back, but since we don't scavenge the factory too often nowadays... well, I figured that finding their source wasn't worth the ponypower and resources."

I glanced at Rainfall, who was looking at me with a small frown. I cleared my throat.

"I don't suppose you could invite one of those strong-looking griffons to help me?" I asked with a somewhat sheepish grin. To nopony's surprise, Mayor Gentlehoof shook his head.

"I could, but then you'd have to pay me more than I'm willing to pay you for this job," he said bluntly. "Speaking of which... a hundred caps. Bonus if you can also install the part yourself."

I winced. That... didn't seem like much, given that I would be risking my life getting eaten alive by ghouls. "What does the generator provide power for, anyway?"

"This generator's most important task is powering our cargo elevator," he replied with a rise of his brow. "Occasionally it also heats our homes, if the primary generator fails or if it gets too cold." The stallion probably knew where I was going with this, but he said nothing yet.

"So... it's pretty important," I continued. A small, innocent smile creeped onto my muzzle. "Surely repairing such a huge part of your infrastructure is worth more than a hundred caps?" I offered. It was a typical bluff, as I didn't even know the value of a bottlecap very well. Our repairswork apparently brought us some decent caps, but I always spent those on new things to tinker with. Parts and junk were the things I knew the value of.

The mayor, much to my dismay, shook his head. "That's why I'm giving you a bonus if you do repair the generator on your own. I have engineers that could do it as their usual job, you know," he said, his voice turning more professional. "I'm paying you a hundred for the extraction and delivery of the part. No more, no less."

My ears drooped, but I eventually gave him a nod. Whether I liked it or not, I did need those caps. "Fair enough. I'll take the job, then," I finally said, in hopes that the ghouls would simply not be there when I arrive.

The mayor seemed happy with this result. "Splendid. The sooner you go, the better. Although, do feel free to use our inn to spend the night in. Now, if there's nothing else..."

I got up, then hesitated. I remembered the words of the guardsmare at the main gate, and turned my head to the stallion once more.

"Oh, and... I know it's a long shot, but... have you seen another, new stallion around here? A tall earth pony, a coat slightly darker brown than mine, possibly with a whole box of tools by his side?"

The mayor pondered for a short while, before shaking his head. "Can't recall anyone like that, I'm afraid. Why?"

I cleared my throat. "Our village, Sheepshead, was raided. My father told me to come here to find him, but I suppose he hasn't made it... yet." I added that last word with a strained voice. Mayor Gentlehoof looked at me in surprise.

"Sheepshead was raided?" He said, frowning. "I should send out more patrols, then... Thanks for letting me know, kid. And sorry for the loss of your home."

I just nodded without a word, opening the door to the mayor's 'office'. I heard Rainfall also say her goodbyes and follow me outside; I just realised how little she talked while I discussed the job with the unicorn. I wasn't even sure what she was doing in the meantime! How come she could only stay silent when I was talking with other ponies?

Now that we were outside, however, she was quick to express her emotions.

"He's lowballing you," she said with a huff. "You were right to try and haggle. The mayor is known for being more of a donkey, given his stubborness, but that's still quite a low price. We'll see, maybe that bonus will be worth it..."

I snorted, shaking my head. "At this rate, I won't even have decent protection, much less a weapon I could actually use... assuming I'll even be alive after that factory raid," I said with a heavy sigh. It seemed pretty obvious that I did not see my chances as very high. In return, Rainfall patted my head a few times.

"Don't worry, hun. I'll keep you safe in that factory," she said, making me blink in surprise.

"I don't remember inviting you over for that job," I said perhaps a bit too coldly. Rainfall simply laughed.

"Surely you could use a big earth pony gal who could strangle a ghoul with her bare hooves?" I heard her say, prompting my eyes to roll.

"Not if I have to share what little caps I'm getting from the job," I retorted. The mare stopped for a moment, and then chuckled.

"Oh, you won't have to pay me, silly! I just wanna come along, that's all."

I remember being quite shocked at that revelation. Not only did she not have enough of my... somewhat cold attitude towards her, she actually wanted more?

"Why?" I asked, simply baffled. Rainfall only shrugged, keeping her silly grin.

"I dunno. You seem like a fine chan... stallion," she quickly corrected herself. I raised my brow. "And you need all the help you can take at the start of the trail. So I decided to be that help!"

I didn't believe this, not one bit. But... she did offer help, for free. I did not want to trust her too much, but at the same time I didn't want to get eaten by ghouls even more.

"...Fine," I finally said. "But I'm not going today. I'll gladly take up on the mayor's offer and hit the hay. Are the beds in that tavern any good?"

"They're pretty decent. Certainly the best in this part of the wasteland," the mare replied with a grin. "Come along, I'll show you!"

* * *

The evening creeped upon us without us even noticing.

Rainfall led me back through the metal walkways and alongside the cliff towards a tall, wide, but narrow building hanging right by the tall, rock wall. The tavern, fittingly called the "Rusty Pipe," might not have been the most visually appealing building in this town, but it did offer a place to rest, drink, and sleep off a long journey. The single door led to a room which, while not very spacious, did fit in a small number of tables and chairs for ponies to sit on. A considerable number of these ponies, as well as two griffons, sat by the tables, sipping on drinks of various kinds. A set of narrow stairs led further up the tavern.

The chatter was quite audible as we stepped in, the wooden floor gently creaking underneath our hooves. The patrons barely paid us any mind. We decided to make our way straight to the bartender. Rainfall checked over the gear she left behind the counter, making sure it's still there, while I bought myself a room for the night. With fifteen caps less in my pouch, I was eventually led upstairs by the mercenary mare.

The upstairs area was decently lit and much quieter than the downstairs. This time, the floor was covered in an old, but thick rug that made our steps much quieter than usual. The small area that the stairs led into quickly narrowed into a corridor leading alongside the tavern's length, right to its furthermost wall. Old, sparkle-fueled lanterns covered the floor in a warm, moody glow.

After a short search we found our rooms, which just so happened to be practically next to one another. Rainfall turned around, looking at me with a smile that quickly turned into a yawn.

"It's late, Tinker. I think we both need to catch some shuteye," the mare said through her yawn, the voice somewhat distorted. I looked at her with amusement.

"Yeah... I'll hit you up tomorrow, Rain. See you around," I replied, waving the mare goodbye as she stepped into her own room and closed the door behind her. I eventually stepped into my room, lighting it up with a switch I managed to notice in the shadow. It wasn't huge, but that's what I expected from this building at this point; somehow, the constructors of this place managed to make everything compact, but not too compact, which worked out just fine by me.

With a heavy sigh I let my saddlebags slip out from my back and land on the floor next to a small cupboard on the left. Directly opposite of the cupboard was a night table with another, small light, presumably for those who liked to read a book before their sleep. I had none at my disposal, so I promptly ignored the lamp and landed with a dull thud on the bed, face first. Mm... comfy.

Instead of immediately falling asleep, my mind decided to torment me with my most recent memories again. Only this time they focused mostly on Rainfall's constant blabbering, the awe I was struck with when I first saw Junk Hoard's... interesting design, and on the fact that in that day alone I've probably spoken to more people than I would speak to in Sheepshead in a month. Snickering to myself at the thought, I finally managed to get a genuine smile on my muzzle. Even though I didn't find my dad, or anyone from my village for that matter... I did have a secure roof over my head, I was about to go on my first job as a wasteland mechanic, and a strong pony apparently found me to be good company.

If this wasn't progress in my quest for survival, then I had no idea what was.

With the positive attitude stuck in my mind, I finally rolled onto my side, closed my eyes, and allowed sleep to overtake me.

* * *

Footnote: Level Up!
New Perk: Empathy (1) - You're slowly learning the subtle art of talking to ponies. During conversations, you will have an easier time predicting the other side's reactions to your words.