Fallout Equestria: Underdogs

by Thantos

Rating: teen
Tags: Adventure, Crossover, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 37375

Underdog, a Hellhound rejected by his pack and left to die, was rescued by a pony, but was forced to

Underdog, a Hellhound rejected by his pack and left to die, was rescued by a pony, but was forced to become a wasteland wanderer due to the prejudice of ponies. He sets off into the unknown, searching for a place to call his home.

Cover art is by Highoctanewildebeest and Darkstarr48.

Published 2012-09-03 17:24:02 UTC
Last updated 2015-02-02 13:13:30 UTC

Chapter One

Let me begin with this. I am not a pony. I am not a zebra, a mule, or anything even similar to that. I am not even a griffin. What I am is a thing of nightmares -- a thing that ponies will forever fear. Some even despise our very existence. Though it is with good reason. The atrocities that my kind have committed are unspeakable. Many have lost their lives and the lives of their loved ones to us. The name by which they call us is fitting.

Hellhounds. The ultimate killing machines of the wasteland, the deadliest predators in existence, monsters. They all fear us, and rightly so.

Many of my kind hunt ponies because of ancient suffering that our ancestors had endured. Wounds dating back to before the days of the wasteland. Some say ponies caused the wasteland, others say it was zebras. Some even say that it is because of ponies that we have become the monsters that we are today. They blame everything on the ponies, and believe that their hunting of them is justified because of it.

But my kind can be just as cruel as they imagine ponies to be. I am a perfect example of how cruel they can really be.

When I was born, I was the runt of the litter. Small, weak, frail. Even though they did not outright kill me, they still didn’t believe I would survive very long. That was one of the reasons they never bothered to give me a name. To them, I was known as ‘runt’, or much more unpleasant names. Despite their beliefs that I would die very young, I continued living with the pack.

My siblings would often torment me because of my size. But things were not that bad until the eldest of my brothers challenged the alpha male for control of our pack. He won. His first act as leader was to cull the weak in an attempt to create a stronger pack.

To him, I was weak.

He attacked me and attempted to kill me. He proved to be stronger, as I was unable to fight him off, but I did manage to take out one of his eyes during our fight. Although I left him half blind, he left me dying at the bottom of a ravine.

I was broken, bleeding to death slowly and painfully. I made several attempts to crawl away, but there was nowhere I would have been able to go if I had. It was only through a chance miracle that I survived.
*

I laid in a forming pool of my own blood. One of my eyes had been forced shut due to an injury that was beginning to swell up, and the other I forced to keep open in order to stave off unconsciousness and the inevitable death that would follow. I pricked one of my ears up at a noise that was nearby. It sounded like rocks being dislodged. There was a high pitched yelp that followed it.

“Gauze!” came a voice. It was unlike the voices I was accustomed to -- much softer in tone.

“I’m okay!” responded a second voice, this one much kinder sounding.

I turned my ears trying to find the source of the sounds. I didn’t know why I did, I was dying at the time. I suppose it was just general curiosity, as this was the first time I had ever encountered ponies. Eventually I found that the voices were coming from in front of me. I searched with my open eye, trying to see what was going on, but my vision was too blurry to see anything.

“Oh goddesses,” gasped the softer voice. Even through my blurry vision I could make out the vague green shape of the owner of the voice. “Blaze, get down here!”

More rocks scraped and fell as the other voice drew closer. “Alright Gauze, what is it that you-HOLY SHIT!” the voice shouted. I heard a click and then the voice resumed its shouting. “Gauze, get back! That thing will rip you to shreds!”

“But it’s hurt!” replied the softer voice. “It needs our help!”

“All it needs is a couple bullets in its skull!”

“Don’t you dare!” The green blur moved in front of where I thought the other voice’s owner to be.

“Alright, I won’t kill it. Let’s just leave it here and go.”

“We can’t, look at it. It won’t survive if we just leave it.”

“That thing is a monster! It will kill us the moment we turn our back on it!” A few seconds passed in silence. My single eye darted around, trying to get a clear view of what was happening. The seconds seemed to blur into minutes, and then into hours. Finally, the harsher of the two voices gave a sigh. “Damn it, fine.”

The continuous, dull pain I was in suddenly flared as I felt myself being lifted by some force. My broken and twisted limbs dangled helplessly below me and I howled and growled in pain as I floated in the air. The sudden surge of pain proved to be too much for me, and I finally blacked out.
*

I eventually awoke after what I later learned to be a few days. My left eye had been bandaged, but the vision in my right eye was clear. I saw that I was in some sort of makeshift shack. I was lying in a bed, or what was once a bed. I tried to move one of my arms but I found it was bound and coated by a white wrapping. I lifted my other arm up. Although it ached, it wasn’t bound. I lifted a claw and pressed it against the wrapping on my arm.

“I wouldn’t do that,” came a familiar voice. It was the softer of the two voices that had brought me here while I was injured. I now saw that the voice belonged to a light green pony. Her head had long flowing hair that was a yellowish color, parted by a single horn at the top of her head. She stared at me with cerulean eyes. “I don’t want to have to re-bandage those wounds.”

I tilted my head slightly as I stared at her. This was the first time I had ever seen a pony before. In the pack, I was too young and too weak to hunt, so I had rarely been away from the den. She seemed to regard me with a similar curiosity. She slowly stepped a little closer.

“Can you speak?” she asked cautiously..

I hesitated to respond. “Y-Yes...” I managed to choke out. The small pony was somewhat startled by my voice, but she continued on with the conversation.

“My name’s Gauze. Do you have a name?” she asked.

“No,” I replied dryly.

“Oh, here you go,” she said as a container of water floated in front of me. It had a greenish glow around it. I looked over to her and saw that her horn was glowing the same color. I grabbed the container and gulped down its contents. I noticed that when her horn stopped glowing, so did the container and it stopped floating, suspended only by my grip on it. A very odd sight. “Do hounds just not have names or something?” she asked innocently.

“They have names,” I replied. “I just do not,” I added mournfully.

“Oh,” she responded. She began to rub the back of her head nervously, as if she had said something to offend me. Her eyes looked around the room, avoiding making any contact with me.

“But if you wish to refer to me by a title, the ones in my pack called me Runt. Among worse things.”

“I thought you said you didn’t have a name,” she said confusedly.

“Allow me to explain. I was the smallest of my litter, and was very weak when I was young. They believed I would die very young, so they saw little need in my need for a name. When they needed to refer to me by a name, I was runt, or other decidedly cruel names.”

Her eyes stared at me. “That’s terrible! Why would they do something like that? I don’t know much about your culture, but that seems just plain cruel!”

“It was not my pack that were the cruel ones. They saw it as a method to avoid becoming attached to me only to lose me. My siblings saw it as a method to torture me at every opportunity. My siblings, especially the eldest, Jagged Claw, were the cruel ones. Claw killed our Alpha and assumed leadership of the pack. Most of my siblings disliked me, but Jagged openly hated me. Easy to see why he decided to kill me. Or try to.”

The pony remained silent for a few minutes after I had finished my story. “You mean your own family did this to you?” she asked, breaking the silence. I gave a slight nod. “That is just not right!” she declared angrily. “Forcing you to endure all that pain, not even having your own identity!”

“Please, it is nothing to trouble yourself with.”

The pony paced around the small shack, mumbling incoherent things to herself. I simply lay in the bed and observed her. I began to examine my surroundings closer.

The shack was littered with various debris. On the side of the room opposite my bed was a wooden door. On the wall beside it was an open doorway that led into another room, though my position did not allow me to look inside. I was also in no condition to be on my feet, so I couldn’t investigate. Light from outside filtered through murky makeshift windows.There were a few shelves along the walls beside my bed that held various things. Bottles of liquids, some clear, some murky, some dark, lined one of the shelves, and one below that held several packets of orange liquid. A few needles were on the shelf below that one, and the bottom shelf held a few boxes.

I recognized a few of the boxes. They held food. Often, my siblings would leave me nothing to consume except for boxes of these ancient foods. They were hardly as delicious as fresh kill, but they sustained me for most of my youth. It was at this moment that I realized how hungry I really was, as my stomach let loose a low rumble.

The mare looked at me with a bit of horror in her eyes, though she tried to conceal it. She gulped nervously. “So uh, I guess you’re hungry then. Uhm, what is it that you eat?” I nodded my head towards that boxes that lined the bottom of the shelf. She seemed to understand, as a few of them were enveloped in a green light and floated over in front of me. I tore open the top of one of the boxes with a claw and dumped the contents into my mouth. It wasn’t very tasty, but it was the sustenance that I needed.

My meal was interrupted by a knocking on the door of the shack. The mare seemed to not notice the knock. When she didn’t respond, the door swung open violently and another pony rushed into the room. He was different from the other pony in that he possessed no horn, yet on his sides were feathery appendages. He was also of a different color than the mare, being red with an orange-yellow mane. Also in his jaws he held some sort of metal device that had an opening that faced towards me.

“‘auze, owr ooh ohay?” the new pony said around the thing between his jaws.

The mare turned to the pony. “Blaze! What the hell?” she scolded.

The stallion mumbled something around the metal, but eventually realized that speech was a lost cause with that in his mouth. He set it on the ground and repeated what he said. “You didn’t answer and I was worried that that...That thing harmed you.” His words seethed hatred and disgust as he referred to me. This was the first time that I had encountered the hatred that ponies had for my kind.

“He hasn’t harmed me. He has actually been very polite.” Her words held no hatred towards me.

“Polite? That thing is a monster! They kill ponies and eat them!” shouted the stallion.

“He isn’t a monster!” she shouted in response. “Let’s not argue in front of him,” she added in a quieter voice, possibly intending for me to not hear.

“Yeah, don’t want to piss the beast off, then he would likely attack us,” he spat as he glared at me.

“Just go, we’ll talk about this later,” the mare said.

“Alright, fine! I’m going. But don’t come crawling to me when that thing rips your limbs off,” called the stallion as he picked up the strange item in his teeth again and left the building.

“Don’t mind Blaze. He can be an ass sometimes, but he is a good pony when you get to know him,” said the green pony as she turned back towards me.

“He hates me,” I replied.

“He doesn’t hate you,” the mare quickly said. “He just has a problem with your kind.” Her eyes widened as she realized what she said. “Not that there is anything wrong with your kind!” she quickly added.

“And you fear me,” I continued. She didn’t refute this statement. “Yet the two of you helped me. Why? For all you knew, I could have been one of the crueler of my kind, one that would kill you as soon as he woke up. Why would you help me even though I am what I am?”

The mare was silent for a moment. “Because it was the right thing to do,” she finally responded. “Because too many ponies would have done the easy thing and left you there. I wanted to do the right thing and help you.”

We spent several hours conversing with each other. I told her about my life in the pack, and she had told me about her own life. She was a doctor that lived in a small settlement known as Pleasant Springs, which was where we currently were. She and a mercenary from the town, the red pony known as Blaze, had been traveling in the wasteland in search of supplies to make medicines for the small town. That was when they had found me and brought me back here. She also told me some about her own past; how she earned her ‘cutie mark’ (whatever that meant, I’m guessing it was referring to the picture of an unraveling bandage on her flank), how she came to reside in the town, and how she effectively allowed the town to expand around her home. I thought she was just exaggerating about her importance in the development in the town, but she assured me that ponies tend to reside in places where there is a doctor to keep them healthy, and where there is a trader to allow for an influx of supplies. But our conversation began to draw to a close, as the light outside began to fade and night approached.

“You can sleep here, at least until your wounds heal,” said the mare. “Normally this bed is reserved for any patients that come in, but for some reason most ponies have just been opting to buy the supplies and use them themselves.”

“Thank you,” I replied.

The pony stood up from the spot on the floor she had been sitting on and walked towards the doorway that led further into the building. As she walked away, her horn glowed (she had told me that this was how unicorns performed magic) and the lantern that hung from the ceiling flicked off. Her horn continued glowing until she was out of the room, fading slowly from view as she left.

I laid there for another hour, just thinking over recent events as I attempted to drift off to sleep. When I did manage to fall asleep, my dreams were plagued by nightmares. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. Big bad hellhound having nightmares? What did I have to have nightmares about? If you experienced some of the things I had during my life, you would understand the chronic dreams of cruelty I suffer from.

*

It had been three days since I had awoken in the small settlement of Pleasant Springs. I had learned more about how I came to be in the town. It turns out that the two ponies had snuck me into the clinic at night. Most of the ponies in the town were initially unaware of my presence, and those that were quickly let the others know. Soon the entire town knew that I, or rather a monstrosity, was living in the town.

The residents of the town were slowly reaching the point where they were likely to surround the clinic with torches and burn it to the ground in an attempt to kill me. The only reason that they didn’t was because many of them had heard about the hardiness of my kind, and feared that burning down the clinic would only release the beast to prey upon the civilians. I was pretty sure that the fire would still kill me, but I was glad that they didn’t test it out.

Although most were too afraid to do anything severe, there would still be the occasional pony that would cause minor troubles, such as defacing the outside of the building or yelling at the green pony that took care of me. The mare repeatedly told me that it was nothing that I should worry about. The red pony continued his harassment of me, usually bursting into the room and calling me a monster at every opportunity, but his insults became less common, and he sometimes even came into the room with his ‘gun’ (I learned that was the metal thing he had). The green one seemed appalled by him calling me a monster, but at least he was consistent in his naming of me.

My wounds were slow to heal, but they were making progress. I was able to get out of bed and walk around some, though the mare advised me that I likely shouldn’t leave the clinic. Despite my growing desire to be outside once more, I heeded her advice and concealed myself from the eyes of the town’s residents.

“You’re getting stronger every day,” observed the mare while she watched as I walked around the room. My legs had sustained many injuries during my fight, and one of them had broken when I fell. Now, though there was still the occasional twinge of pain, I was able to walk around on them. My eye that had been swollen shut previously was now normal, although heavily bruised. I was glad that I was still able to see out of it. “Pretty soon you won’t need to stay here any more.”

“Yes,” I replied. I had nowhere to go, but I decided to omit this information, as it would only cause her to worry.

“Hey,” she called. I turned around to see her walking up to me. “I have been thinking about your story, how you were not given a name during your life. And I think I might have a name that suits you. Underdog.”

“Underdog?” I repeated, tilting my head at the word.

“One who is disadvantaged in life, but can still overcome challenges set before them. I felt that it suited you.”

“You are giving me a name?” I asked. She gave a little nod. I thought it over for a moment. Yes, Underdog. Despite my weakness and my brother trying to kill me, I had survived, and I continued to survive. It was a fitting name. It was a name. I had never had a real name before. This pony-no. Gauze had given me a name. “Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Everyone deserves an identity of their own,” she-Gauze replied.

I walked over and wrapped the small pony in a hug, careful to not accidentally crush her or stab her with my claws. She gave a small yelp of surprise, and maybe a little bit of terror, as I picked her up in the embrace. She eventually wrapped her forelegs halfway around me, returning the hug.

Suddenly there was a loud bang outside, followed by cries of terror. I set down Gauze and went to look out one of the dirty windows. She followed beside me.

“Damnit, that had better not be Blaze causing trouble agi..” she trailed off as she looked out the window. I followed her gaze and saw several ponies running through the town. Behind them was a large group of fierce looking ponies, all brandishing weapons of some sort. Several of the ponies from the town lay on the ground in a pool of their own blood, unmoving. “Oh Goddesses,” Gauze gasped as she looked at the tragedy.

“Who are those ponies?” I asked.

“Raiders,” she replied solemnly, as if the word carried some meaning I was unaware of. She looked over and saw the confusion evident in my face and she continued her explanation. “Ponies who attack and kill other just for fun. They are bad news.”

I looked out the window once more. One of the ‘raiders’ had his head explode open. A muffled cheer came from outside. I looked up and saw a red blur flying through the sky, firing at the invaders. Though Blaze managed to take down several of the bad ponies, one of them returned fire and clipped him in his wing, causing him to spiral down to the ground.

“No!” Gauze let out a little shriek as the pegasus (Gauze explained to me earlier how there are different types of ponies) fell from the sky and hit the ground hard. I walked over to the door and tried to open it. “What are you doing? You’re too injured, they will kill you if you go out there!” Gauze cried.

I looked over at her. “You saved my life.” I opened the door and was met with stares from both the citizens of the town and the raiders. “Let me save your town,” I replied calmly as I took a few steps out into the battle.

The sun, despite being covered by clouds as it always is, was bright compared to the dim confines I had stayed in for the past several days. The raiders momentarily stopped their attack as they stared at me. Their faces held a mixture of fear, hatred, and bloodlust. A few of the bad ponies took a few steps back as they locked eyes with me. The only pony in their group who did not move away from me was the one at the front of their pack. On one side he had an especially large gun (at least I think it was a gun, I had only seen the ones that Blaze had) with multiple pipes attached to it. On the other side he had a large box. He stared at me and his horn started glowing a dim red. The large gun on his side started to spin, slowly at first but picking up speed.

“Well, looks like this backwater town might be fun after all. They got a pet hellhound!” shouted the raider, who I guessed was the alpha male of his pack. “I always wanted to kill one of those things.”

I let loose a low growl and charged at the pony. He barely had time to react I was on him so fast. What I lacked in size I made up for with my agility. The weapon on his side started roaring as I was pelted with bullets (Blaze told me it was what most guns fired). Many of the bullets sunk into my hide but very few of them penetrated very deep.

Once I was in range, I leapt at the pony with my claws stretched out at him. He reared back in an attempt to kick me away, but it was too late for him. The claws sunk through his patchwork of armour with ease. A look of shock became evident in his eyes as his body began to register the pain he was in. When my claws were deep enough in his chest, I hooked them on his ribs and pulled back, ripping his chest open. I dropped the corpse to the ground; the pony was dead before he hit.

I looked up at the rest of the raiders. Many of them turned and fled, but a few were paralyzed with fear and were unable to move. I stepped over the corpse of their leader and slowly walked towards them.

“Leave,” I growled. “Or leave in pieces.” This caused the remaining raiders to drop their weapons in terror and run away. One of the raiders looked back at me, likely worrying that I had given chase. I stayed where I was for a few minutes.

I had just killed a pony. Sure, my kind had killed ponies before, but most of them killed them as a source of food. I had learned recently that ponies were actually good creatures, but I realized that ponies were similar to hellhound; some are good and some are bad. These raiders were definitely bad ponies, they had killed other ponies. They even wanted to kill me just to kill me.

I managed to calm myself after a few more moments, and I turned to face the town. Gauze had exited her clinic and was standing over where Blaze had crashed. Several bottles and syringes were floating around her illuminated by a green glow. Other ponies stood silently watching me, waiting to see if they would be ripped to shreds like the raider.

A few voices murmured something about me being a monster, others sounded like they were thankful. I ignored the stares of the crowd and cautiously walked over to Gauze and Blaze.

Blaze laid on the ground. One of his wings had a hole in it. One of his legs was twisted awkwardly. He tilted his head slightly and noticed me.

“Oh hey buddy, how are ya?” he slurred.

“Is he going to be okay?” I asked.

“That’s just the pain killers kicking in. He’ll be a little loopy for a couple hours,” said Gauze as she placed her hooves around Blaze’s broken leg. “Though I am pretty sure he will still feel this,” she said as she snapped the leg back into place with an audible crack.

“GAH! YOU BITCH!” he shouted in pain.

“Welcome back to the real world, Blaze,” Gauze chimed. “Now I have a lot more patients to tend too. Underdog, would you mind him into the clinic.”

“Underdog?” he asked as he looked up at me. “You named that thing?” Gauze gave a nod as she tore a long string of bandages off of a roll and wrapped Blaze’s wing with it. “Damnit Gauze,” he muttered under his breath.

I picked up the pony as he continued to mutter profanities. The ponies that had been staring at me the entire time continued to do so, although a few of the onlookers went about other tasks such as helping the injured ponies and repairing the damage caused by the raiders.

I gently set the pony down onto the bed in the clinic. “Thanks,” he mumbled in response. “So what happened?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, feigning ignorance.

“I mean, what the hell happened to that group of raiders?” he clarified.

“I drove them away,” I replied vaguely. I wished to avoid going into details, but Blaze continued his barrage of questions until I finally told him the full events of what happened.

“Damn...” he gasped as I finished the story. “Well, now I feel like a complete dumbass rushing in here and waving my gun around thinking that I could take you.” He paused for a moment. “Thank you for saving us.”

“It was the right thing to do. You saved me, so it was only right that I helped you,” I replied.

“I didn’t save you,” he replied solemnly. “I would have left you there to rot. But I am thankful that Gauze convinced me otherwise. She was the one who saved you.” He paused for a few moments. “I am glad that she did. You saved our town, and you saved me as well. You are alright for a hellhound.”

I sat on the floor and spoke with Blaze for about an hour. He was a nice pony to talk to now that he had warmed up to me. He told me that his real name was not actually Blaze, it was just a nickname that Gauze had for him (another name but still the same identity, what a novelty). His real name was Guns Blazing. I still referred to him as Blaze, as that was the name I had come to associate him with. The thing that the raider I killed had been using was a ‘minigun’, which I found odd as the gun was fairly large. He wanted me to go retrieve it before one of the other ponies scavenged it, but Gauze entered the room before I could leave.

“Wow, you two seem to actually be getting along for once,” she commented.

“I blame the painkillers!” Blaze shouted. “But this guy is actually interesting to talk to. You were right, he is smart.”

“That reminds me, Underdog, how did you become so intelligent?” Gauze asked.

“Hellhounds are a very smart species, ponies just tend to not think of us as such. But when I was just a pup, I managed to leave the den for the first time. I stumbled upon a building and inside I found several intact books. I took them back to the den and spent weeks teaching myself to read them. After a few more weeks, my siblings learned of my readings and took the books away from me, burning them in a pile in front of me. But from that point on, on the rare occasion I left the den, I would always try to return with more books.”

“Wow, sounds like your siblings were terrible,” Blaze replied.

“Indeed, they were. That wasn’t even one of the worst things they did. I am still haunted by what they did to my pet giant rat...” I began.

“So what’s the damage, doc?” Blaze asked, quickly changing the subject of the conversation.

“Of the survivors, you were the worst case. I’m sorry Underdog, but Blaze is going to need to have your bed for the next couple days, you can have it back when he is healed,” Gauze replied.

“Wait, you mean I can stay here?” I asked.

The two ponies only looked at me. “Of course you can stay, if you want that is,” said Gauze.

“You saved our hides from being decorations in some raider camp, I doubt that very many in town would object to you staying here,” Blaze added. “Heh, I doubt very many raiders will want to attack if they know we have a hellhound to help protect us.”

I was almost moved to tears. I thanked the two of them and spoke with them for a few more hours. It was beginning to get late, as the light that filtered through the windows was starting to diminish. Gauze managed to drag a mattress into the clinic and set it on the floor for me.

I laid down on it and began to drift to sleep.

“Ah, damnit!” exclaimed Blaze, still lying in the bed across the room. I looked up at him. “I forgot to get that minigun!”

I gave a light chuckle as I fell asleep.

*

It had been almost a full year since I had first woken up in that small settlement. Many of the citizens of the town became a little more accepting of me, a few even looking past the fact that I was a hellhound and treated me no differently than they treated a pony. Of course, many of the ponies in the town were much less accepting. Mothers still held their foals close when I walked by, locks clicked to houses when I approached, and ponies spoke in hushed whispers when I was near. Despite all of this, I managed to make a peaceful living in the town.

I assisted Gauze in the clinic usually. I lived there since I had woken up, as Gauze was the nicest pony in the town. Blaze even gave me back my bed a few days after the incident with the raiders, though oddly he returned to the clinic a few weeks later and has been staying in the room Gauze sleeps in.

The few ponies in the town that were friendlier with me usually gave me bottle caps (ponies use the oddest things for currency) for little jobs. They usually included dealing with a radscorpion nest to the north. Strangely, no matter how many times I killed them, they would just show back up a week later. Gauze thought it was a good thing, as I was always sure to bring back as many of their poison glands as I could. I think she said she made antivenom with them.

Raiders would still occasionally attack the town, but it was never the same group twice. I usually only had to deal with just one or two of them before the others got the message and ran with their tails between their legs.

It was a simple life, but it was peaceful. That is, until I had a chance encounter with a traveler.

*

BLAM!

The crack of a shotgun blast echoed through the usually quiet town. The slug punched through my hide and embedded itself in my shoulder. I looked over at the attacker.

He was a young looking pony, blue coat and a light grey mane. He wasn’t blood covered and dirty like raiders were, and his face was cold and expressionless. His eyes betrayed a mix of fear and hatred though, one that was common in ponies who met me. He was a unicorn. His horn glowed a light blue, the same color as the shotgun that levitated next to him. He popped out the expended shells and floated in fresh ones and took aim at me again.

I almost leapt at him before he fired again, but both of our attacks were interrupted by the green mare that placed herself between us.

“STOP!” she shouted, both at me and the blue pony. I skidded to a halt and the pony lowered his shotgun slightly. “What the hell is going on here?” Gauze shouted.

“Out of the way Miss, before you get harmed by that beast,” spat the traveler. He floated the shotgun back up and pointed it at me again. Gauze stood in his way.

“Underdog would never hurt me,” she shouted back. I gave a nod.

“Ma'am, what kind of drugs are you on? That thing is a hellhound!” the blue pony replied. “It’ll skin your hide and use it as a toaster cozy! Now out of my way and let me kill that beast.”

Another gunshot rang out, but this one came from above. A rifle round sunk into the ground in front of the traveler. He and I both looked up to see Blaze hovering in the air with the rifle on his battle saddle (that was what hornless ponies used to fire bigger guns) aimed at the blue pony.

“Next one’s going through your skull if you hurt Dog!” he shouted. Despite my protests, Blaze and a few other select individuals referred to me as Dog instead of my full name.

The blue pony faltered for a moment and looked to see many of the town’s dwellers glaring at the him. At that moment it dawned on him that I was a part of this community and that he was no longer welcome.

“Fuck this!” he shouted. “This entire town is loony! I’ll be sure to tell everyone that you freaks have a pet hellhound! Yeah, good luck getting any travelers to visit you now!” With that he turned and ran out of the town.

The ponies in the town returned to what they were originally doing before I was attacked as soon as the violent visitor was out of sight. Gauze turned around to look at me, her eyes shimmered with forming tears. Blaze landed next to us and the three of us returned to the clinic.

“What happened out there?” Blaze asked as we entered the building.

“That pony attacked me,” I replied. “I was walking around the town when I noticed a new face in town. As soon as I looked at him, he shot at me.”

“I was afraid of this,” mumbled Gauze. I looked at her inquisitively. She bit her bottom lip for a second and then continued. “Well, many ponies who visit here are often travelers that have had experiences with the less friendly of your kind. They don’t often take the time to find out whether or not you are friendly before they start shooting.”

“I remember that one guy a couple weeks back who came here because he heard we had a hellhound and was looking to take your claws to make himself some hoof-claws,” added Blaze. “Offered his services to remove the problem and we would only have to pay him a thousand caps and let him keep the claws. Bastard was lucky I only had my pistol on me at the time. He got away with only a few dents and dings in his armor. I did recalibrate the sights, so now it is much more accurate. I can hit a metal can from-”

“Blaze,” Gauze interrupted as she glared at him. “Not the time for that.” She looked back at me. “The point is, a lot of ponies are afraid of you just because you are a hellhound. Many ponies hate you because they think you will attack them.”

“Why?” I asked, though I knew neither of them had the answer. “There have been many ponies that have attacked this town. A few of them even succeeded in killing a few of residents. That doesn’t mean that all ponies are bad. Ponies are like hellhounds, some are good and some are bad.”

“It’s just that way things are. We know you are a good hound, but too many ponies out there have had bad experiences with hounds. They don’t like to risk you being another bad one,” said Gauze in an attempt to comfort me. Didn’t really work, but we put it behind us for the time being. “Now, let’s get that bullet out of your shoulder.”

*

Things were normal for the next few days, but I was still plagued by the encounter. My mind was plagued by thoughts. They’ll never accept me. I am just a monster to them. Ponies that come to this town will just be frightened away by me. Why delude myself into thinking I can stay here? I tried ignoring the thoughts, but there was suddenly a knock on the clinic door. Gauze emerged from her room a moment later, her mane was wild looking and messed up. I stayed still, pretending to still be asleep. She stumbled over to the door and swung it open. Standing outside of the clinic was a small group of ponies, at the front of which was the mayor. Or maybe it was the sheriff. I wasn’t sure which he was, maybe he was both.

“Oh,” said Gauze as she took notice of the small group outside. “Something I can help you with?”

“Gauze, is there someplace that we can speak?” the mayor sheriff started. “Away from him,” he added, his eye flickered towards me momentarily.

“Why?” Gauze asked in return.

“There are things that need to be discussed.” With that, they stepped outside. They spoke in low tones, though I was still able to hear them.

“What’s this about?” I heard Gauze ask.

“There hasn’t been a caravan come in almost a week, no travelers either,” replied the sheriff mayor.

“And you fear that this is because of that traveler from the other day.”

“It’s the damn hellhound’s fault!” replied a new voice, loud enough to be audible even if I had the hearing of a pony. “You had to let your little pet run around and scare away all the travelers, didn’t you?”

“Quiet, we don’t want to wake it,” said another new voice.

“How can you be sure that caravans are avoiding us? Maybe the caravans scheduled to come here were attacked by raiders,” Gauze argued. “You can’t be sure that this is Underdog’s fault.”

“We aren’t asking you to get rid of him,” said the mayor-iff.

“I am,” argued the loud voice, but the others seemed to ignore him.

“All we are asking is that you keep him inside, don’t let him roam around where travelers can see him,” continued the mayor-iff.

“You mean keep him locked up like a prisoner,” Gauze replied flatly. “How could any of you suggest that?”

“I suggest throwing him out of the town,” the loud voice said. Thankfully, nobody listened to him.

“Sheriff,” Gauze began (so he was the sheriff!). “Don’t you remember how he saved you from that giant radscorpion a month ago? And you, how could you forget how Underdog saved you from the raiders two weeks ago? In fact, he has saved this town multiple times!”

“I know what he has done for us, but I need to think of the town. Without trade caravans and travelers to sustain our supplies, we won’t be able to live here. I can’t put one hound ahead of the entire town.”

“Without him there wouldn’t be a town! If it weren’t for him, this town would just be another raider camp with our heads on pikes!” Gauze argued.

“I’m sorry, but this isn’t up for discussion. Keep him inside and maybe we can say we got rid of him and bring trade back,” said the sheriff as his voice became more distant.

A few moments later, the front door opened and shut quietly. I glanced over to see Gauze standing at the door, staring at me silently. After a short time that seemed like hours, she finally broke the silence.

“So I guess you heard all of that,” she muttered.

I gave a nod. “They want to lock me in here because they fear I might frighten more travelers.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Gauze said, trying to comfort me. “We can let you out at night when there are no travelers. You can help me out in the clinic during the day, and at night you can roam around. It’ll be nice.”

“I don’t want to be like a caged animal,” I replied. Even in the dim light I could see tears streaming down her face. “I’m sorry.”

“What’s going on?” asked Blaze as he groggily stumbled out of the other room. The shouting from earlier must have woken him. He looked over to Gauze and saw her crying. She ran to him and buried her head in his neck while he held her. He looked over to me for answers, a bit of anger in his confused expression.

“Dog is leaving town,” she choked out in between sobs.

“What? Why?” he asked.

“The ponies in this town no longer wish for me to be with them. They wish to confine me inside like a monster.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to leave. We can go talk to the sheriff and convince-” Blaze began.

“The sheriff is the one forcing me to be locked inside,” I interrupted.

“Neither of us want you to leave,” Blaze said. “You’re our friend. At least stay here for the night and think about what you are doing.” I conceded to this and laid back down. Blaze led Gauze into the side room as I drifted back to sleep.

Only I didn’t fall asleep. I just lay there, and I began to think. Was this the right decision? Sure, there were ponies here that hated me, but there were some who liked me. But this could never really be my home. I had no real home, not anymore. Though did I ever have a home? A place to live, yes, but it never really felt like a home.

This place was the closest thing I had to a home. I had friends who managed to look past what I was in favor of who I was, and many of the ponies in town at least tolerated me. But despite how good things were, somewhere in my mind I knew that they wouldn’t last. Some part of me knew that it would only be a matter of time before I was rejected by them as well.

These thoughts swirled in my mind as I slowly lost consciousness.

*

Dawn approached quickly. The events of the previous night were still fresh in my mind, and my resolve to leave had only increased. I thought of what I was leaving behind as well, Blaze and Gauze, my first and only real friends. I didn’t want to leave them, but I knew I couldn’t stay here.

When the two of them entered the room, I explained to them why I was leaving, and how the events of the previous night weren’t the only reasons. They spent the greater half of the morning trying to convince me to stay, but I was unwavering. I asked the two of them to come with me, but Gauze couldn’t leave the town she has lived in for so long, especially because she was the only pony with major medical training and towns rarely survive without a doctor. Blaze said that he couldn’t leave Gauze by herself. It saddened me to leave my friends behind, but I couldn’t stay here.

“Hold on a moment,” said Gauze, her eyes fighting back tears and her voice faltering as she spoke. She withdrew from the room and entered her room. She emerged a few moments later levitating a bundle of cloth behind her. “I bought these for you a while ago,” she said as she unfolded the bundle. “They were going to be a gift, one year since we met.” The bundle turned out to be a large sheet of cloth, durable looking. Inside the cloth was a collar, fashioned from a large belt. It had small metal studs along it, and a small tag hung from it. “This is a cloak for you,” she said as she levitated the large cloth over me. “You might be able to pass for a large pony or a griffin with this. Hopefully it will make it so that ponies don’t just shoot you on sight.” She used her magic to tug and pull the cloak into place. It fit me snugly, as it likely wasn’t designed for something as large as I was. Regardless, the cloak covered me well. It even had a hood to conceal my head. My paws were uncovered, but they were only noticeable up close. “And this is a collar I managed to make for you,” she said as she wrapped the gift carefully around my neck. She latched it closed. “Blaze even made a tag for your name.” I lifted the tag with a single claw. ‘Dog’ was what it said. “We couldn’t fit the whole name on it though,” she apologized.

Blaze stepped up next to me. He opened his bag with a wing and reached in with his mouth. He lifted out a smaller pack in between his teeth and set it down in front of me. “Here,” he said as he pushed the pack forward. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any weapons that you would be able to use, but we managed to pull together a good amount of health potions and caps to give you. Think of it as thanks for all you’ve done for us.”

I wrapped my arms around the both of them. “Thank you both, for everything you have done for me,” I said.

“Please come back and visit us sometime,” stammered Gauze, her voice was shaky and tears were welling up in her eyes.

I picked up the bag and walked to the door. I looked back to see Blaze wrap one of his wings around Gauze to comfort her. He gave me a nod and a slight smile. I nodded in return and left the clinic.

Today, the sun seemed as bright as it had been when I first left the clinic when I originally woke up. Many of the ponies on the street took notice of me leaving the building. Most of the ponies returned to their business, but a few stopped what they were doing when they saw me. A grey unicorn with a light green mane and a tooth cutie mark walked up to me, anger evident in his eyes.

“What are you doing out here?” he shouted, I remembered him as one of the voices from last night. “Didn’t that bitch chain you up?” I tried to pay him no mind and continue walking, but I felt a tug on my collar and saw that it was glowing a light grey. “Hey mutt! Don’t you walk away from me!” I turned to face him, baring my teeth in an attempt to frighten him. “Oh, don’t even try that shit on me. This whole town knows that you’re Gauze’s bitch and wouldn’t hurt anypony because it would upset her,” he sneered.

I stepped closer to him and loomed over him. A low growl escaped my jaws. The pony had to crane his neck upwards in order to look up at me. His arrogance began to drain from his expression as he realized how tall I was and how sharp my teeth were.

“I was planning on leaving this town peacefully,” I began. “Don’t make me change my plans.” This threat was enough to cause the unicorn to sit back on his haunches. The anger and bravery in his eyes were soon replaced with terror.

I turned and continued onward to the entrance gate for the town. It had taken several months, and some of my assistance, but the town had finally built adequate defences. I passed the two guards that defended the town. They were young ponies, a unicorn and an earth pony, stallion and mare respectively. They were two of the few ponies in the town that accepted me.

“Where you off to, Dog?” asked the mare.

“Not sure,” I replied. “I just thought it was about time I should leave.”

“Is Fluoride giving you hell again?” asked the unicorn. “Damnit, I’m going to-”

“No, it isn’t just him. I simply think it is time I left,” I said. It was the truth, the grey pony wasn’t the only cause, but he certainly didn’t help matters.

“Good luck out there, the wasteland is no place for anyone, pony or hound,” said the mare as I walked by the two of them.

The gate to the town shut loudly behind me, and the expanses of the wasteland loomed before me...

Footnote: Underdog

Special:
Strength-9
Perception-7
Endurance-9
Charisma-2
Intelligence-4
Agility-9
Luck-1

Trait:
Hellish Abomination-You are a hellhound, one of the toughest creatures in the wasteland. As a result, you are much more resistant to damage and you deal a lot more damage with your claws. But your species is also much more limited when it comes to weaponry and armor, not to mention that people are more likely to become hostile towards you.

Quest Perk added: Mysterious Traveler- Who is that guy wandering around in a cloak? Nobody knows, but they certainly don’t suspect it to be a hellhound. Greatly decreased chance of hostile interactions while wearing a cloak or other concealing clothing.

Chapter Two

The scene before me was bloody and disturbing. Sprawled and spread across the ground laid the corpses of a few ponies, decorating the wreckage of a large cart. Sprawled at the front of the ruined vehicle, were two odd-looking creatures of the sort I'd never seen before. I call these creatures odd because both of them had two heads. Sharing the violence that the ponies had received, these creatures had a hole in each skull. This scene was not very recent; dried blood coated the ground, one of the ponies had their skull mostly cleaned away by the few scavengers that feasted upon the carrion.

I had been wandering for about an hour before I discovered the gory scene. I began to search the cart for any evidence of what had happened, or why these unfortunate ponies met an untimely end. The cart had been picked through before, possibly by whoever had killed these ponies.

I noticed a large amount of dark colored, shattered glass near the cart, along with a few drops of blood. The blood didn’t appear to come from any of the victims. I cautiously sniffed the glass. My senses were assaulted by a strong, stinging odor. I backed away quickly from the glass, nose burning from the scent.

It was a scent I knew fairly well. Whisky. Blaze seemed to love the stuff almost as much as he loved guns, and that is a comparison that is not lightly made due to his general enthusiasm to weaponry in general. He would often drink the burning elixir and then start acting weirdly. I never consumed the stuff. Mostly because it offended my senses just by being near it, but partially due to the fact that the few times Blaze ever offered any of it to me, Gauze would quickly take it away from him and scold him, calling him an idiot and discussing how dangerous that would be.

The aroma overpowered the other smells around it. I shook my head to try to clear it of the burning sensation, but the smell remained strong in my nose. I took another few sniffs away from the broken bottle in an attempt to cleanse the scent, but I caught another whiff of the whiskey, with a faint hint of blood under it. The blood and whiskey mixed to create a copper trail that led away from the carnage. Survivors from the attack in need of assistance, maybe?

I flipped down the hood of my cloak and set off, following the trail my senses set before me. I wasn’t entirely sure why I was doing this; call it curiosity or a desire to help someone in need, but I honestly didn’t know where to go and following this trail was as good as anything. After about an hour of tracking the scent, I began to grow bored. I had almost ceased my pursuit until I had crested a hill. At the bottom of the hill stood a small makeshift camp centered around a large, old building.

The camp had a small amount of ponies within it. Raiders. I recognized their appearance; blood stained, with armor made from junk and scrap. Some raiders only killed to survive. Others? The wasteland had broken them. Shells, once full of life, now only inhabited by a desire to live and a need to kill.

I noticed a single pony within the camp that didn’t appear to be a raider. She was an electric blue unicorn with a silvery mane, a single acidic green streak running through her short, scruffy mane. She wore a white coat that partially concealed her face. She also wore a pair of goggles over her eyes. Even from this distance I could tell she was in danger.

A few of the raiders began to circle her like predators ready to attack their prey. I quickly but silently crept closer. I was now within earshot of the ponies.

“-- get first turn with the bitch,” said one of the raiders that circled the mare, a unicorn stallion with a gash over his eye. The blue mare turned her head to follow the raider’s movement, but didn’t move any further.

“Fuck off, Guts,” shouted the other raider, an earth buck with an ear torn off at the base of his head. “You got the last one that wandered in here. I’m tired of only getting the sloppy seconds!”

The mare in between the two raiders interrupted their highly intellectual debate. “Gentlecolts, surely we can solve whatever it is that you are arguing about in a civilized and peaceful manner,” she said in a calm tone, blissfully ignorant of the immediate danger around her.

The two raiders stopped their circling , giving the mare between them a confused glance. They looked back at each other for a moment. “I say we cut her fucking tongue out,” said the unicorn. The earth pony gave a nod. The unicorn raider’s horn started glowing, as did the sheath on his leg. The knife floated out and levitated next to him.

“You don’t need to cut out my tongue,” said the mare, now beginning to realize the danger she was in. “If you did so, my communication skills would be greatly diminished. Plus it would a lot hurt!”

The earth pony raider tackled the mare and pinned her to the ground. The unicorn raider trotted up to her, the knife in the air next to him. “Open wide, bitch,” he said as he used a grimy hoof to pry open her mouth. The other raiders in the camp laughed as the knife was about to be forced into her mouth.

I stood at the top of the hill, letting loose a feral roar. The raiders ceased their assault of the odd looking mare and looked upwards in my direction. The unicorn raider panicked, dropping the knife and having it stick into the dirt inches away from the muzzle of the mare on the ground.

I charged down the hill, the hood of my cloak flopped backwards, revealing my face. One of the bolder raiders returned my charge with one of her own, a shotgun attached to a saddle on her side. What she possessed in boldness, she lacked in intelligence.

She fired a single burst at me. Single, as that was all she could manage before one of my claws sunk into her neck, hooking on the base of the skull. I gave an upward yank and severed the connection between her head and her torso, leaving the neck scattered in the surrounding area.

Without losing any forward momentum, I continued my charge, deadset on the raider with the gash over his eye. As I neared him, I caught the end of the copper trail. Bits of glass had embedded themselves into his face, causing one of his eyes to become a bloody red. The wounds had started to heal, and the glass had been mostly removed. But the pungent odor of whiskey remained, surrounding him in a copper haze.

He tried to back away, a look of pure terror in his good eye. He picked the knife back up and waved it in my direction, but I only increased my speed. I leapt at him and connected with the raider, my claws sunk deep into his shoulders. He opened his mouth to scream, but I withdrew one of my claws from his shoulder and plunged it into his gaping mouth. His death screams were forever silenced when the tips of my claws emerged from the back of his neck, bits of the raider’s tongue stuck to them.

I turned to look at the earth pony raider and the mare, only to discover that the other raiders had fled the scene, leaving only the faint scent of urine. Only the mare remained, lying on the ground. She shakily rose to her hooves, dusting one of the sleeves of her coat off as she did so. “Well that was rude,” she grumbled, looking in the direction the raiders had ran off. She slowly turned to look at me. A gasp escaped her mouth when she saw me.

“Please don’t be frightened,” I said in as calm a tone as I could manage. I quickly noticed the fresh gore on my claws and scraped it off, hoping to not scare her anymore than I already had.

“Y-You’re...” she stammered. I prepared myself. A monster. A murderer. An abomination. “Incredible!” She cheered. What?

The small mare trotted closer to me, examining me with enthusiastic curiosity. “Simply amazing! The types of creatures that could be produced by the outside world. You don’t appear to be an equine of any sort, looking to be more closely derived from canines. Perhaps a highly evolved version of the domesticated dog? Oh, that reminds me how much you look like my old pet dog. Oh how I used to play with him until I-well, that isn’t important.” I sat down on my back legs as the mare continued to make observations. “And would you look at the keratinous structures growing from the phalanges on your forearms! They could tear somepony’s head off! Wait, they already did.” She paused a moment to look back at the raider I had killed. “Well, seeing as I am still talking, you likely don’t intend to attack me.” I noticed that despite her words, she took a cautionary few steps back.

“Uhm, miss?” I interrupted.

“Wow, you can talk! Wait, you spoke before. Simply astounding! A sentient organism! And they said I was a fool for going out here. Just imagine the amazing scientific discoveries that could result from such a marvelous place. Oh, how rude of me, going on without introducing myself.” She stopped for a moment and took a deep breath, only to resume her babble. “Hello creature of the wasteland!” she said slowly but loudly, as if she were talking to a foal. “My name is Catalyst, do you have a name?”

“I am called Underdog,” I responded. “And you do not need to speak to me like that,” I added, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized, a cautious grin slowly formed. “And what exactly are you?” she asked, the grin grew even wider on her face.

I tilted my head at her question, confused by her lack of knowledge of my kind. “I am a hellhound. How is it that you do not know what I am?” I thought that hounds were well known across the wasteland, or at least widely feared.

“Ah, allow me to apologize for any confusion you might have. I come from a place called a Stable. Subterranean shelters designed in order to allow ponies to survive the oncoming apocalyptic destruction brought about by megaspell warfare. Though I guess I need to rethink my original hypothesis that all life outside of Stables ended when the megaspells hit. Those ponies that I was having a conversation with earlier did not appear to come from any Stable. That reminds me, why did you attack those ponies?” she concluded.

“They were raiders,” I responded, assuming it would be enough of an explanation, but her confused expression begged for me to clarify. “They are bad ponies who were going to attack you. Didn’t you hear them say they were going to cut out your tongue?”

“Yes, that did strike me as a bit aggressive,” she admitted. “But they were the first ponies I had met since I left my Stable, and I didn’t think they would be so...uncivilized. Actually, their actions were outright barbaric.” This poor fool was going to die a horrible death out here.

She turned her head to look at the pony that had almost amputated her tongue against her will. She watched as the blood slowly stirred in pools as it oozed from the corpse. The upper half of the head tentatively held to the rest only by a flap of skin. She shuddered as the harsh reality of everything hit her. It could have been her lying on the dirt, blood pouring from her mouth.

She looked back at me, that slight grin replaced with a fearful grimace. “Those ponies wanted to kill me. Or even worse!” she exclaimed. “Oh, this was a terrible idea. I never should have left the Stable.” She began to pace as she continued to think out loud. “Maybe I should just go back. No, they would never take me back after what happened to those six...and the Overmare’s son too... Oh, I’m stuck out here!” The pony continued panicking for a while longer before she turned to look at me. I could tell that her eyes, despite being concealed by the dark lenses of her goggles, were on the verge of tears. A dim reflection of myself flashed on the black lens.

Lost in the wasteland, rejected by her home. But we were different, she had yet to find someone to help her. Something twinged inside of me as I looked at the helpless mare. I pitied her, I wanted to help her somehow.

“I can take you to a town, someplace safe,” I responded to her pleading expression. Her eyes lit up, at least I imagined them to. It was impossible to tell with their impenetrable shields. She gave an attempt at a smile in return.

“Th-thank you,” she stuttered, giving a nod of appreciation.

I stood back up on all fours and started towards the raider camp, the mare followed close behind. I had a small pack full of potions and food, but the ma-Catalyst only had her lab coat. She claimed she had a saddlebag, but had lost it due to an encounter with a ‘flying ball of tumorous growths that expelled spinelike projectiles’. I didn’t learn the specifics, as she evaded further questioning. But we needed to gather any supplies we could, and the raiders had likely stockpiled some before they fled for their lives, and they surely wouldn’t miss any of them.

As we neared the (hopefully) abandoned raider camp, I put up my paw in front of Catalyst. She stopped and looked at me, confusion apparent in her expression. “There might be a few of them left inside,” I whispered as I flipped my hood up. I reasoned that it would be better to have the element of surprise if they were raiders, or to not frighten anyone else inside.

I crept closer towards the doorway, Catalyst stayed back a few feet as I approached. I placed my ear near the door, listening for any movement inside. My ear twitched as I picked up a faint muffled voice, though I couldn’t understand it. My ears twitched and turned in an attempt to pinpoint the source of the sound, and also its meaning.

The building was a partially destroyed store if the exterior was any indication. The outer facade of the structure had been the victim of hundreds of years of wear, with recent additions of bullet holes and blood splatters, the oldest of which couldn’t be more than a few weeks old.

I cautiously pushed open the door as silently as I could. My attempt at sneaking did nothing to muffle the very audible ‘squeak’ that resounded from the door. The pungent odor of decaying flesh assaulted my senses. My nose burned with the scent, my eyes began to water. I could even taste the decay in the air. The initial room of the building was decorated with the corpses of various ponies, as if some sort of sadistic decor. Hanging from the ceiling from a chain was a partially decomposed unicorn, or at least what was left of it. The lower half had fallen off from the decay, while the remaining part was suspended from a large hook stabbed through the eye and out the side of the skull. I briefly wondered if they were alive before this mutilation had taken place.

My ears twitched as they picked up a whirring noise. Quiet at first, but becoming more intense by the second. I twisted my head away from the carnage just in time to witness a large birdlike creature menace me with a large minigun. The visage of the creature, decorated with scars and cuts, twisted into a grimace as it stared at me. I didn’t know that beaks could frown like that.

“So you’re the reason for all that screaming going on,” it growled. I remembered that the creature was called a griffin. The few I had met before were often guards that followed the caravans. “First you come into my camp and scare off my crew, and now you sneak in here to try to steal my stuff?” One of the creatures claws came to rest on a handle attached to the large weapon. The whirring of the gun continued as the barrels kept spinning. “Not cool.”

“Your crew attacks innocent ponies for their own amusement. That is not ‘cool’ either,” I retorted.

"Oh, another hero," he sneered. "Why don't you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of before I paint the walls with your guts?"

“I wish I could,” I replied solemnly. “Perhaps just digging a hole for your corpse will suffice.”

“That’s it, get ready to die, asshole!” he suddenly screeched as the gun roared to life, spewing forth lead.

I managed to duck into one of the side rooms before the majority of the bullets connected. Some of the bullets had managed to pierce through my thick hide, but the overall injury was minor. The room I was in appeared to be another section of the store, littered with debris and fallen shelves. A few shelves remained upright, but had been picked clean of anything of value. One of the walls behind me exploded in a shower of splinters as the gun roared to life again, shredding the barrier between the raider and myself.

“Quit running you coward,” he shouted as he stepped through the rubble. “What are you, sca-” his remark was cut short as he stared at me for a moment. I realized that my hood had fallen in my brief display of acrobatics. “You’re one of those fucking devil mutts!” He gripped the handle of the minigun again and the hail of bullets resumed. I sprinted behind one of the shelves as the spot where I was moments ago became bathed in lead.

My options were limited. My only means of attack would mean getting very close to him, something that the weapon he wielded did not allow. So for the moment, I was only able to run. I took solace in the fact that the shelves appeared to hold up better against the sustained fire than the walls did.

“I thought you hounds were supposed to be tough shit!” he shouted, barely audible over the roar of the weapon. The firing sound became closer as the shelf I was behind continued to be chipped away by the hail of bullets.

A spark ignited an idea inside my mind. I placed my paws on both sides of the shelf and pushed it forward, sliding the barrier along the ground at the griffin. The firing ceased as he attempted to flee, but the shelf collided with him and tipped over with a heavy thud, trapping him underneath. The raider griffin fell silent with the crash of the shelf, and remained deathly still.

I breathed a sigh of relief at the defeated foe. I took a moment to search in my pack for a healing potion. It took an entire bottle in order for the wounds I had sustained from the encounter to heal. Perhaps it was the difference in physiology, or due to my size compared to a pony, but the effects of the potion seemed to have been greatly diminished.

My brief respite was interrupted by a gasp coming from the initial room. I quickly entered the room to find Catalyst staring at the hanging corpse. The look on her face was a mix of disgust, fear, and curiosity.

“I heard gunfire and I thought you might be in trouble,” she stammered, not taking her eyes off of the partially empty sockets of the once unicorn. “I guess I got a little startled.”

“There was another raider, their leader I believe. A griffin,” I replied. Her head snapped away from the corpse and stared at me, a slight smile forming on her face.

“A griffin?” she asked. I gave a slight nod. “A real griffin! I had only heard about them in stories as a foal, and in some old research papers. Never did I imagine I would see one. Well, I never imagined I would be on the surface either.” Her tone had changed quickly, going from timid to almost excited. It was a bit disturbing. “Oh, I simply must get blood samples! And feathers! Did you tear off any limbs? I may need to gather bone samples as well. I can’t wait to get those samples back to my lab and-” she cut herself off mid sentence. “Oh right, my lab was destroyed and I was exiled.” The smile on her face drooped. “Had almost forgot in all the excitement of today,” she said with a halfhearted attempt at a laugh. “No matter,” she said after a moment. “Labs can be rebuilt.”

“I will take you somewhere that you will be able to build your own lab,” I replied in an attempt to cheer her up. I gave a smile, though I believe I only succeeded in revealing my fangs. Regardless, she appeared to feel a bit better. “Now come along, these raiders must have kept something stored away.”

Catalyst trotted slowly behind me as we delved further into the building. The shelves stood either empty, or filled with clutter. Cans and bottles clinked and clanked as we kicked them with our movement. On the other side of the room was a large counter that created a small barrier. Spread along it was spare ammo, and the occasional bottle cap. I had no use for the ammo, but I took the caps. Catalyst seemed to value the bullets, as she levitated them into her pack. Did she even have a gun?

I leapt over the counter while Catalyst climbed over some of the clutter. This appeared to be the storage area for the bandits. Metal boxes sat behind the counter, shelves contained various foods and other supplies, and a few weapons of different types lied on small tables. A small box was hanging from the wall, familiar faded pink butterflies decorated the exterior.

Catalyst diverted her attention to the metal boxes beneath the counter while I focused on the medical supplies. I was not very gentle in my methods, instead opting to tear the box off of the wall rather than attempt to pick the lock open. I pried the lid of the locked box off of its hinges, revealing my prize. My haphazard approach to opening the container had rewarded me with some bandages, a few doses of RadAway, a broken syringe of Med-X along with a broken healing potion, and one intact potion.

I let out a soft grumble at the destroyed medical supplies. Behind me I heard a soft clicking noise. I turned to see that Catalyst had opened the containers and was filling her bags with the contents. The contents being more ammunition. She also floated a few metallic spheres into her pack with a grin. Did a single pony need that many grenades?

A single door was on the back wall with a computer terminal next to it. The door was made of wood, and had clearly seen better times. I was surprised at how durable it actually was, taking three swipes before it finally granted me passage. The room behind the door was a small, dimly lit one. Catalyst trotted beside me, her horn glowing, providing illumination. A foul odor was present in the room. With the small amount of light given off by the unicorn mare, I could make out the forms of what I presumed to be corpses. The raiders had decided to decorate this room as well it see-

“Ugh,” groaned a voice from inside. I turned to look at Catalyst and she gave a nod. The glowing intensified, illuminating the entire room. Corpses lined the walls, suspended by shackles attached to their legs. They were in various stages of rotting. All except for one stallion, his coat bloodied and bruised. He was alive, but he was in very bad condition. Some of his ribs showed beneath the skin, indicating his malnourishment. One of his eyes was swollen shut. He rolled his other eye in my direction. “Come to finish the job?” he moaned, his defiance clear despite his condition.

“Oh goddesses,” Catalyst gasped as she saw the stallion. “Get him down,” she commanded me. I blinked for a moment, but then complied. The chains snapped effortlessly as a claw tore through them.

The stallion slumped to the ground, then strained to lift himself up. “You’re...You’re not raiders?” he asked as his eye darted between us. His eye widened as he noticed me in the light from the mare’s horn. It was at this moment that I realized my hood was still down.

“Do not be afraid, we are here to help you,” I quickly responded in an attempt to assuage any fear. The stallion merely shrugged in response.

“Son, I’ve traveled through the wastes many a time, hardly anything surprises me anymore,” he said in the mixture of a chuckle and a groan of pain. “Either of you got anything to help?”

I reached into my pack, careful not to tear or break anything, and pulled out a draught of healing potion. The pony quickly took the potion and downed the contents. Some color returned to his face, the bruising diminished, and the swelling around his eye reduced.

He was an older stallion, his mane a mix of aged gray and white hairs. His coat, muddied and bloodied as it was, was a deep bronze color. He was thin, but his limbs had some muscle to them. His eyes were a dim gray, both of them bloodshot.

“Ah,” he sighed. “That feels so much better.” His shaky legs became stiller, and he stretched his legs out. “The name’s Antiquity.”

“I am called-” I began.

“My name’s Catalyst and this is Underdog,” the mare said, cutting me off. “What happened to you?”

“Luna-damned raiders, that’s what,” he spat in response. “Attacked my caravan couple days ago. Maybe even a week. Hell, they’ve had me hanging here for who knows how long.”

“From what I understand, raiders do not usually take prisoners,” I responded. “And when they do, they do not keep them around very long. How did you survive?”

“Raiders may be crazy, but they aren’t stupid,” he replied. “Well...Actually most of them are as stupid as rocks. But that leader, that griffin bastard was at least sensible to listen to me. Told him my company would pay good caps in exchange for us. Doubt they would pay, but he fell for it. So I managed to keep myself and what was left of my group alive a few more days.” He paused for a moment then continued with a sigh. “Unfortunately, a few of those bastards got bored after a day or two. Tried to convince them they wouldn’t get the caps if we were injured, but they didn’t care.” He turned his head away from us. “Damn it, I can still hear Crystal’s cries from what they did to her.” He shook his head. “One by one they killed the rest of my friends until only I was left. Been a few days, big guy didn’t care what his crew did.” He turned back to us. “Guess I was lucky you two showed up, else I’d be dead.”

“Do not worry, I will take you someplace where you will be able to rejoin your company,” I said. I turned to lead them out. The old stallion slowly limped along. Catalyst walked beside him, allowing him to lean on her for support.

“Thank you kindly,” he groaned. “So, where ya leading us, hound?”

“Uhm...” It was at this moment that I realized I has no idea where I was going. I had no location to take them to, and I couldn’t return to Pleasant Springs. I also couldn’t just wander around the wasteland with the two of them. Antiquity was too injured to travel very far, and Catalyst appeared to be traumatized enough already.

“Heh heh heh,” chuckled Antiquity. “You’ve got good intentions, but no plan, eh?” I gave an embarrassed nod, to which he responded with another chuckle. “I know a little settlement to the North. Not the kinda place you want to stay in very long, but I may be able to get in touch with the Barlowe’s Bargain Caravans company there.”

I leapt back over the counter into the main area of the building. Catalyst used her magic to aid Antiquity in crossing over. We resumed our passage out of the store. I looked back at the unicorn mare and noticed her eyeing the corpses again. At least I believe she was. It was difficult to tell due to her goggles. Antiquity merely walked with his head lowered slightly. It was possible that some of these corpses were ponies that had been taken along side him.

I glanced into the side room that the raider leader had cornered me in. The shelf remained toppled over with red liquid and broken glass in the surrounding area. The fallen shelf was laying flat on the ground and-

“Wait,” I interjected, stopping in my tracks.

“What is it?” the earth pony asked.

“This was where I fought the griffin,” I began.

“And?” asked Catalyst.

“So where is the corpse?” I replied. The two of them looked at me in a mix of shock and fear. My ears twitched as they began to pick up a soft whirring noise, steadily growing in intensity, almost as if on cue. I turned to see the bloody visage of the griffin, a wicked grin on his face, and his claw resting on the handle of his minigun. “Outside, now!”

Catalyst ran ahead of me as I picked up Antiquity. He struggled some as I carried him outside, but he understood the severity of the situation. We burst through the door just as the wave of lead was released from the griffin’s weapon.

“You really didn’t think you killed me with that little trick, did you?” the creature laughed. “Round two, asshole!” He ran out of the store and leapt forward. His wings extended out and began to beat, forcing his entirety into the air. He rose higher then turned to look down at us. The raider floated in the air for a moment before he brought his weapon forward.

“He can’t fire that in the air, the recoil alone would make aiming almost impossible!” Catalyst observed as she backed away.

“He doesn’t need to aim, it’s a freaking minigun! He’ll keep shooting till he hits us!” Antiquity shouted as I sat him down.

“You two get out of here, I will try to draw his fire!” I growled. The barrels on the minigun started to spin slowly, gaining speed.

“Dog-” Catalyst began.

“Go!” I shouted. She hesitated, but trotted away with Antiquity following beside her. The weapon roared to life as a stream of bullets cut a line in front of them.

“What’s this?” the raider shouted. “Think you can get away? And with my prisoner no less. No, I think I’ll kill your little pet first, then have some fun with you, bitch.” I needed to draw his attention back to me. Nearby on the ground was an old bottle. “And the old geezer owes me a shit ton of caps, and I’m going to get them, one way or ano-GAH” the griffin gasped in pain as the bottle connected with his skull. The griffin’s feathers became bathed in fresh blood and glass shards.

“This is between you and me!” I shouted. I was at a serious disadvantage there. The griffin possessed a long range weapon plus the ability to fly. I was stuck with just my claws and whatever I could throw. I just needed to distract him long enough for Catalyst and Antiquity to make their escape.

A burst of rounds hailed down upon me. Most of them missed, as I was quick to dodge, but many of them sank into my hide. The griffin was hovering in mid air above the store, using his wings to stabilize himself against the recoil of the weapon. I ran to try to avoid as much of his fire as I could, but the raider was very good at tracking, being able to hit me too easily. Blood poured from the wounds, though most of them were not too deep.

CLICK CLICK CLICK.

“Shit!” shouted the griffin. His weapon stopped firing, and he began to fiddle with the underside of the barrel for a moment. He had run out of ammo. But he dropped the expended clip to the ground and was beginning to put a fresh one in. This was my chance.

I quickly turned back towards the building and sprinted towards it. Upon reaching it, I leapt forward and sank my claws into the wall and clambered up to the roof. The griffin was too preoccupied with his weapon to notice my ascent. I leaped into the air, claws extended.

“AH!” the griffin screeched as one of my claws grazed his back leg. He was just out of reach. He beat his wings harder to fly even further up. “You’ll pay for that!” he screamed as he brought the minigun around to face me.

But I was too fast. Two swipes of my claws tore through the roof, dropping me back into the store. I fell back into the central room of the store, landing with a heavy, painful thud, but it was better than being torn apart by the lead wind.

The griffin didn’t follow me. Instead, he began to tear holes in the aged roof with his minigun. Chunks of debris began to fall upon me. I scrambled to my paws and ran to avoid the rubble. I made for the exit again. Better to be out in the open than crushed.

Once I was outside, I saw Catalyst standing next to the corpse of the raider I had partially decapitated, Antiquity a few feet behind her. Her face showed no fear, no emotion. I ran forward near her, the griffin following after me. A brief cease in the hail of bullets signaled his reloading.

“What are you doing, I told you to run!” I shouted as I approached her. She didn’t respond, she just began mumbling to herself as her horn started to glow.

“...factor in gravity...adjust for the wind...target speed as well” She continued mumbling as I saw what she was using her magic for. The knife that the dead raider once wielded against her was floating beside her, enveloped in a silvery aura. “...and then toss.” She swung her head forward, using her magic to send the knife flying ahead.

The griffin raider had been flying behind me, splitting his attention between reloading his weapon and focusing on me. He didn’t notice the small metal object flying towards him at high speed. He lifted his head up right before it connected with him at the base of one of his wings. The spasm of pain caused his wing to move erratically, sending the raider plummeting down to the ground, landing with a thud.

“Thank you, SATS,” she exhaled. “Get him before he can recover!” she shouted at me. I nodded and ran at the griffin.

I stopped in front of him. One of his wings was bent at an awkward angle while the other had a knife stuck in the base of it. The minigun was also broken, having sustained heavy damage from him landing on it. The creature looked pitiful just laying there, blood pouring from the knife wound, while cuts on his face and body dripped their ichor as well.

He looked up at me with one eye, the other preoccupied with a glass fragment. “I’m begging you, don’t kill me,” he pleaded. “Look at me, I can’t harm anyone now. I probably won’t last long anyway.” I hesitated. Moments ago, he was trying to kill the three of us. But as I was looking at his crippled form, I wasn’t sure I could kill an unarmed opponent. “I-I promise I will never be a raider again. I’ll help ponies from now on,” he continued. His eye and his mouth begged for sympathy, while the movements of his talons betrayed his deception. He unsheathed a knife and leapt at me with it, to which I responded by raising my paw to him. He skewered himself on my claws.

I watched as the life drained from his one working eye. One that moments ago pleaded forgiveness and mercy. One that belonged to a treacherous murderer. The corpse slid off of my claws from the bloody wetness, and lifelessly slumped to the ground.

I stared at the corpse for a moment, wondering what could drive someone to become so murderous and wicked. It was about this time the adrenaline from the encounter began to wear off, and I realized how much pain I was really in.

*

“Quit struggling!” commanded Catalyst.

“Ow, that hurts!” I complained.

“Just take the damn shot already!” she threatened. She was on top of my arm, pinning it to the ground as she attempted to jab me with the syringe. “It’s just Med-X, you’ll feel much better.” She wasn’t helping matters by putting pressure onto my injuries. “Help me hold down his arm!” she commanded Antiquity, who was watching the spectacle from a safe distance.

“I’d rather not,” he replied, keeping his distance maintained.

“Ow,” I yelped as the syringe punched through my hide. Did I mention I didn’t like needles? Some of the pain was alleviated by the drug, but I was still in pain.

“Alright,” exhaled the mare. “That’s one of the doses. Now for the others.” The other two syringes floated out of her pack.

The discomforting ordeal was over after a few minutes, but I still felt the numb but still present pain from the experience. But it wasn’t too bad that I would need, or want, another dose of the syringe-delivered drug.

He had been traveling for almost an hour before the pain had forced us to make camp. Catalyst had been...insistent that I take the medicine. Most of the supplies we had gathered from the raider camp were used to heal the wounds I had sustained at the raider camp.

A warming fire crackled in front of us, illuminating the area around it. Catalyst occupied herself by fiddling with some small device she was making from scrap electronics and metal she gathered from the store. Antiquity sat beside me, wolfing down a third box of an odd substance known as ‘Sugar Apple Bombs’. The stuff smelled sickeningly sweet, but it appeared to cause Antiquity’s hunger to subside.

“So what is this town we are going to?” asked Catalyst, not looking up from the bundle of wires and scrap at her hooves. She was still wearing her goggles, making me question how she was able to see what she was doing.

“Hmm? Oh. It’s a small town by the name of New Chevalin,” he responded between mouthfuls of the overly sugary substance. “Not the kinda place you should stay long in.”

“Raiders?” I asked.

“Nah, complete opposite really. They’re very justice driven up there, to fault even. I pass by there every couple weeks with my caravan. Almost every time I’ve been there, there would be someone in trouble with the law. My advice is to just keep your head down as best you can. They might not be very tolerant of your type,” he said nodding at me. Wouldn’t have been the first time I have been hated for what I am. “Probably best we sleep here for the night. Creeping into the town at night won’t end well,” he yawned. With that, the merchant slumped over and the sound of soft snoring rose from him a few minutes later. This was likely the first night in about a week that he would be able to sleep without the corpses of his allies staring at him.

I looked back over to Catalyst who was still tinkering with...whatever it was that she had. It looked like a lopsided metal orb with wires sticking out of places and a - Was that a grenade attached to it? She was floating a screwdriver over it, tilting her head to observe where it needed to be tightened.

“What are you doing?” I finally asked.

“I was bored so I wanted to see if I could improve upon the design of this grenade,” she replied with a hint of joy. “When I was a filly, I would always take apart my toys and improve them. My mother had to take away one of them when I modified it to have a small blowtorch.”

“It sounds like you were very mischievous as a foal,” I said.

“You don’t know the half of it. One time, I snuck into the science lab after everyone was asleep. Long story short, I accidentally set half of the lab on fire, and that whole level had to be evacuated and vented because of the toxic fumes. But that is how I got this,” she said, flipping back part of her white coat, though now smeared with blood and dirt, and revealed the image of a bubbling beaker with a green liquid inside of it.

“Impressive,” I responded.

“Hrnk...zubba apples,” mumbled Antiquity in his sleep. The two of us shared a small laugh at the sleeping pony.

A few more minutes passed before Catalyst tired of messing with the jury rigged explosive. She curled up and fell asleep while I kept guard. Blaze had warned me that when sleeping in the wasteland, it is best to keep someone on guard, in case of raiders, or hungry creatures, and to keep the fire going. I had to remain vigilant.

*

I woke up feeling a hoof poke my skull repeatedly. I opened my eyes to see a goggled face looking down at me. Did she sleep with those things on?

“Wake up, sleepy,” she said, still poking me. I let out a low growl for her to stop. “Don’t give me that. I woke up in the middle of the night to find you asleep and the fire dead. You had plenty of sleep, so get up.” I grumbled, but rose to my paws.

Antiquity was sitting on the other side of the fire, or rather the remains of the fire. He was munching through another box of Sugar Apple Bombs. How many of those did we even swipe from the raiders?

“New Chevalin’s just a couple hours away,” he replied after he finished his meal. “Oh, and Dog, you may want to keep your hood down while we are there.”

We soon gathered up our supplies and left the makeshift camp. It took about two hours worth of travel, a good deal of which I was forced to carry the old stallion, the silhouette of a few buildings appeared on the horizon. Antiquity hit my shoulder a few times and pointed off to the distance and let us know that this was our destination. I flipped my hood down and we pressed onward. A short amount of walking placed us at the entrance to the town.

A sign above the gate declared ‘Welcome to New Chevalin’ with the name of the city spelled in large, multi-colored pieces of metal. The town was a loose collection of old buildings with many newer buildings around them. The post-war constructs were of a better quality than any I had previously seen. In the center of the town was some sort of wooden structure. It appeared to be two supporting boards holding up another board, from which a large piece of metal was suspended. A large group of ponies gathered around the structure.

“I don’t like the looks of this,” said Antiquity as he slid off of my back. “Let’s check it out, but keep your hood down.” I nodded and we slowly approached the group.

Near the wooden structure was a small stand and podium, at which stood a dark colored pony. He had a dim coat, grey but not black. His mane was jet black in color. Sitting atop his head was a beaten up top hat. Standing on both sides of him were two large griffins in dark colored armor with a single yellowish star on the chestplate.

“Bring out the criminal,” the dark pony declared. The crowd moved to make a path from the wooden structure to one of the buildings. Out of the building came another griffin in similar style as those on the platform. Being pushed ahead by the griffin was an earth stallion with two pairs of shackles on his legs, his coat a dirty tan and his mane just a few shades darker.

“Please, I didn’t do it!” he turned and begged to the griffin. The griffin responded by kicking his side.

“Get going, criminal scum,” the griffin spat. “I’m not your judge.”

The pony was brought in front of the pony on the podium whom I presumed to be the Judge. The Judge gave a slight smile as he eyed the pony in shackles, who was trembling in fear.

“Masquerade,” the Judge addressed the pony before him. “Why am I not surprised that you would be brought before the court.” The stallion looked down at the podium for a moment. “You are charged with the following crimes: theft, attempting to evade justice, swearing at an officer of the law, assaulting at an officer of the law, and petty loitering. How do you plead?”

“Please, I didn’t do anything wrong!” the pony grovelled.

“The court finds you guilty on all counts,” the Judge declared. “For these crimes, the court sentences you to death by guillotine.” The Judge finished his speech and stepped down from the podium. The two griffins stepped down as well, only they went for the pony in shackles.

“No, I only took a few boxes of food! I needed to feed my foals! Don’t kill me!” the pony pleaded, but the cries only fell upon the deaf ears of the Judge and the griffins.

Masquerade scrambled to his hooves and attempted to flee the two griffins, but the third grabbed him by his mane and held him in place. Two of the griffins lifted him up as he struggled, while the other stood at the wooden structure in the center of the town. I was now able to view the structure easier, and saw that at the base of it was another two boards with a hole in the center. One of the griffins pried open the two boards while the other griffins slung the protesting pony’s head in between the boards.

“They aren’t...” Catalyst gasped beside me.

I now saw that the piece of metal suspended by the rope wasn’t just a piece of scrap, it was a sharpened blade. One of the griffins untied the rope that held the blade in place, but held onto it with his talons, preventing its decent. He looked over to the Judge, who gave a confirmatory nod. The griffin released his grip.

SHUNK.

Welcome to New Chevalin.

Footnote: Level Up.

New Follower: Catalyst

S-5
P-5
E-2
C-5
A-6
I-10
L-7

Follower Perk: Hold Still!- You may not like needles, but Catalyst is forcing you to take medicine anyway. While Catalyst is your companion, healing items and chems have increased strength.

Catalyst: Level Up

Catalyst: New Perk: Heave Ho!- You may not be as strong as some ponies, but you know just how to arc something so that it’ll hit. And it will hurt.

Chapter Three

Catalyst huddled closer to me after the blade had dropped, while Antiquity just stared at the scene with a scowl. The head rolled to a stop on the ground while the body was locked in its position. The griffin who had released the rope put one of his claws on the headless corpse and gave it a light shove, pushing it to the ground next to the guillotine.

“What the hell was that?” Catalyst whispered to Antiquity, fear and confusion prevalent in her voice.

“Wasteland justice,” the stallion replied coldly. “Or at least what this town views as justice. Whole decapitation thing’s new though, used to be they’d just hang em.”

The crowd that had gathered to watch the morbid spectacle soon dispersed, leaving only us, the Judge, and his griffins. Two of the griffins dealt with the disposal of the remains, dragging the corpse away with a bloody trail. The Judge stood on the small stage with a griffin looming over him. He watched as the griffins dragged the corpse away, but then turned to look at us. He gave a slight smile that was both warm and disturbing, though I felt oddly compelled to speak to him.

“Dog, what are you doing?” Catalyst gasped as I began to walk towards the pony. I ignored her and kept walking. She eventually trotted beside me, though she kept back a little. Antiquity followed as well.

“That’s far enough, outsider,” growled one of the griffins as it landed between myself and the Judge. “Nobody sees Scales without permission.” This griffin was larger than the others, and had a wicked look in his eyes.

“Settle down, Diego,” spoke the Judge, whom I assumed to be Scales. “These are guests in our humble town. We must show them respect and kindness.” The stallion stepped of the stage and toward us. The griffin backed away but remained at the pony’s side. “My name is Scales, and I am the Judge of this town. Now if you don’t mind me asking, why are you wearing that hood?” I panicked internally.

They had cut a pony’s head off just for stealing. I was terrified of what they might do to me, if they knew what I was. But at the same time the griffins were all looking at me suspiciously. Not telling them could result in them attacking anyway. I couldn’t risk them harming Catalyst or Antiquity, so I cautiously brought a claw to my hood and flipped it back.

“A hellhound!” one of the griffins shouted as he pulled a shotgun out of the holster on his back. The one next to the stallion started to draw out a revolver, but the Judge lifted a hoof to stop them.

“Calm yourselves,” Scales spoke. The griffins begrudgingly holstered their weapons, but they appeared to still be skeptical about me. “This hound is a guest in our town, and provided he does not do anything to warrant punishment, he will be treated no different than any other guest.” I was still on edge from witnessing the execution, but this eased my initial fears.

“My name is Underdog, this is Catalyst,” I said tilting my head to the mare that was attempting to hide behind me.

Antiquity stepped forward. “Good to see you again, Scales,” he greeted the other stallion.

“Ah, Antiquity. Last I saw you were with the traders that passed through here last week.” The Judge responded, to which the older pony nodded. “What happened? Where is the rest of your caravan?”

“Raiders got em, would have got me if it weren’t for these two.” He said, nodding at us.

“Then I must thank you two, both for saving the life of this pony, and for ridding the wasteland of a few raiders.”

“We’re actually in town so I can get in contact with the company,” Antiquity added.

“Well, Ricketts’ Sky Carriage should be heading out today, if I am correct,” the Judge responded. “Perhaps you can ask him to deliver a message for you.”

“Maybe. You know how Ricketts can be sometimes. I’ll stop by his place,” Antiquity said with a nod.

“It was a pleasure to meet you both,” Scales said, looking at Catalyst and myself. The judge set off in the direction of one of the larger buildings, followed by the larger griffin. The griffin turned to us and gave one last glare before following after him.

“You two coming?” Antiquity called to us. I looked to see that he was walking further into the town.

I caught up to the old stallion easily, Catalyst followed behind solemnly. I turned my head back to her. “Are you alright?” I asked.

She turned her head and looked to both sides warily before answering. “I...I do not wish to stay here any longer than necessary,” she answered worriedly. “This town executes ponies in such a... gruesome manner, and publicly as well. I don’t think I could ever live in such a place.”

“I agree, the whole situation is rather unsettling,” I replied.

“I mean, they should punish criminals, but the crimes they listed for that pony didn’t sound that bad, at least not enough to deserve that,” she continued.

“Most crimes are worthy of execution in the eyes of Scales,” Antiquity sighed in front of us, causing us to both realize how bad we were at discrete conversation. “Don’t get me wrong, Scales is a nice guy. Hell, he saved my caravan from a manticore once. His heart’s in the right place, he’s just too... extreme I guess.” Antiquity began to shake his head.

I opted to not delve deeper into the subject. We continued down the street in relative silence. Walking down the street of the town reminded me of my first few days in Pleasant Springs. My presence attracted undesirable looks from those we passed. It didn’t help that a few of the glares came from rough looking griffins, which I was beginning to develop an uneasiness towards.

Some stared at me as if they had never seen a hellhound before. Or more like they had encountered one of my kind previously. I flipped my hood to cover my head, but I knew it was pointless. They still saw me as a monster, no matter how much I tried to cover it. But I still wanted to avoid their eyes.

We soon arrived at a rather large building. Outside of it was a cart, similar to the ones a caravan would use, only the back out the cart was slathered with dark paint, creating the words ‘Ricketts’ Sky Carriage’ on it. The building shared the name, only instead of paint the sign was created using scrap to form the letters. I noticed a few pieces of the ‘R’ had been pried away and placed in other locations. I briefly wondered what the punishment for vandalism was, let alone public profanity.

Outside the building was another griffin, this one smaller in stature than the guards with a satchel strapped to his chest. His appearance differed from the others. His head was full of black feathers with white ones near the base of the neck, the wings being white closer to the neck and black at the tips. His hind legs were a silvery white, with small dark splotches dispersed throughout it. He stood beside the cart barking orders at a unicorn and a pegasus. The two ponies were loading the cart with various boxes and bags.

“Careful with that!” shouted the griffin. His voice was disproportionately loud for his size. “You morons will be working off anything you break!”

“Asshole,” muttered one of the loaders under his breath. Either the griffin did not hear it, or he purposely brushed it off, as he did not react to the remark. Instead, he turned to look at us.

“Ah, custome-oh wait, it’s just Antiquity,” the griffin said flatly when he recognized the stallion beside myself.

“There’s that charming personality you’re known for, Ricketts,” Antiquity replied with a smile. It was unusual to see the old pony smile, somewhat disturbing. “How you been, you feathery bastard?”

“Alright, what do you want?” the irritated griffin replied.

“What? What makes you think I want something?” Antiquity said, feigning innocence.

“Cut the crap, I know you act like that when you need a favor.”

“Alright, I need a ride back to Barlow. Think I could ride back on the next trip?” he pleaded with a forced smile.

“And lose all the cargo space your bony ass will take up? I’m having enough trouble keeping my caravan going with traders being scared away by this town’s daily executions!” the small griffin began shouting.

“Which is why you should take me to Barlow’s, you don’t want word getting out that you left one of his traders here after his caravan was attacked, do you?” the stallion said with a wry smile.

The griffin unfolded his wings and flapped up to the sign on his building. “Do you see the word ‘charity’ anywhere up here? Huh?” he growled.

“No, but I definitely see the word-”Antiquity began but was cut off.

“You still owe me from the last time I helped you. I’m not giving out free rides,” Ricketts declared with a final assertion.

Antiquity stared at Ricketts for a moment, furrowing his brow. Finally he let out a sigh. “Alright, alright. Can you at least let them know I am still alive and tell them to make arrangements for the next caravan out here to pick me up?”

“What happened to your own caravan? Why not get them to take you back to Barlow?” the diminutive griffin questioned. "And who are these freaks with you?”

“Raiders ambushed us and took us captive. Killed us off one by one until I was left. These ‘freaks’ as you called them were the ones who saved me and murdered the bastards who did it,” he replied coldly.

Ricketts was taken aback by the information. After a short amount of time, he finally spoke up. “I’ll... I’ll uh...let them know.” His voice wavered as his anger was replaced. He attempted to quickly reestablish his facade before he noticed. “But you’ll still owe me twice.”

“Thank you, Ricketts,” Antiquity replied, also attempting to rebuild his cheerful demeanor.

“It’ll probably be at least a week or two before they return, you can stay at my place till I get back.” He dug through his satchel for a key and tossed it at Antiquity who caught it in his teeth. “But if there’s anything out of place when I get back, I’ll drop you into a pit of radscorpions!” With that, the griffin went to his carriage, to which the pegasus has already strapped himself to the front of. The unicorn sat in the back of the cart, strapped to a seat while the rest of the space in the cart was filled with boxes and assorted junk. Soon, the cart took to the sky, Ricketts flying behind it barking directions at the pegasus and yelling at the unicorn to hold the valuables in place.

Once the trio had disappeared from sight, Antiquity attempted to speak up. “Now ‘e can eh ih ide,” he mumbled with the key still in his mouth. I just stared at him for a moment, I believe Catalyst did the same behind the tinted glass. Antiquity responded by rolling his eyes and walking towards to building. He twisted the key in his mouth towards the lock and opened the door. “I was saying, ‘Now we can head inside,’” he repeated as he held the door open for us.

Catalyst entered the building first, followed by Antiquity. I ducked down as I entered through the fairly small doorway. The interior of the primary room was filled with a myriad of random objects. Empty metal cans stripped of their labels were suspended from the ceiling, polished and cracked plates lined the walls, miniature golden statues were randomly dispersed through the shelves. In the center of the room was a large desk. Behind it was a rusted plaque that read ‘Postal Service’ but had been written over to read the title of Ricketts’ business.

“Your friend has a rather eclectic taste in decor,” Catalyst spoke up.

“Yeah, that’s Ricketts for you,” Antiquity chuckled. “He’s not the brightest trader to tell the truth. He accepts a third of his pay in shiny clutter like this. Bad for his business, but he seems to not care.” He pushed open a door leading to a back room. The two of us followed him inside and were met with more shiny clutter.

“I suppose that your friend possesses traits similar to many types of avians, namely the attraction towards shiny things,” Catalyst began. “I read an old scientific journal that discussed how the mating habits of many avians and how griffins-”

“I really don’t want to hear about the ‘mating habits’ of birds or griffins,” Antiquity interrupted. He flopped down on a broken down couch, displacing some metallic trash. “What I do want to discuss, however, is what you two plan to do, and how you plan to do it.”

I had not really considered what my plans were now that I was out in the wasteland. I had never actually traveled far from what, at the time, I had considered my home. Despite the conditions I lived in, I usually stayed with the pack, and only ventured out with others. When Gauze saved me, I never traveled far from my new home until now. I looked over to Catalyst, who appeared lost in thought as well. She was lying on the floor with her head resting on top of the metal device on her leg. I doubted she had traveled from her home before either.

“Well...I suppose I am going to try to find a nice town to settle in. Find a home, rebuild my lab. I just want to try to...start over I guess,” Catalyst finally replied.

“Don’t we all,” Antiquity surmised, digging out a pack of cigarettes from the clutter. “What about you, big guy?”

“I believe what I want is similar to what she said, without the lab of course. I just want to try to find someplace accepting of my kind,” I sighed. “I thought I had a home like that for a while, but I had to leave recently due to growing uneasiness about my continued presence.”

“That’s rough,” Antiquity replied, though I caught a chuckle as he realized what he had said. “What about you, goggles? Why’d you leave something as cozy as a stable?”

Catalyst turned her head away from us, avoiding further eye contact. “I...I did something I’m not proud of, but was necessary,” she replied hesitantly. “I was given a choice: exile from the Stable, or the death penalty. From what little we knew about the outside, exile was thought to be the same as the death penalty, but the Overmare decided it was more equine to let me choose my punishment. I think she had actually hoped I would pick this option, thinking I would starve once the minimal supplies they gave me dried up, allowing for a slow and painful death. I am actually glad I did what I did. I don’t think I could have lived there any longer. Too many bad memories,” she finished. I opted to not delve deeper into the subject.

“Lots of places hold bad memories for all of us,” Antiquity muttered, striking a match in between his teeth. “Well, since neither of you have any plans for the immediate future, I suggest you two try finding some work around town. Caps make the wasteland go ‘round, so the more caps you got, the better off you are. Try checking in with Scales. If memory serves, he’s paid for some bounty work in the past. Judging from how you two rescued me, killing raiders seems to be your forte.”

“Eh, I don’t know if I would be able to make a living killing others,” Catalyst replied after a moment. “I mean, I’ve only killed for self defence...mostly...”

“It’s not something I’d suggest to make a living off of, but it’s sometimes a necessary evil to hunt down bad ponies for cash,” he responded. “You could try scavenging, but that could be equally dangerous. There’s also other things a young mare can do for caps, but none of them are things I’d think you’d enjoy.”

“Well, as long as they had it coming...” she answered, rubbing the back of her head with a hoof.

“Their deaths will be warranted, correct?” I interjected. It would weigh a bit too heavy on my heart to drag an innocent pony to the judge’s execution.

“Scales is rather strict, but I don’t think he’s the type of pony to send a hitsquad out for littering,” Antiquity replied with a puff of smoke escaping his lips. “Still, probably best to be sure that anyone he sends you after really deserves it.” He took another drag of his cigarette before speaking up again. “Ricketts has got enough food around here that he won’t mind if I give you two some supplies as thanks for everything. You two can crash here for a couple days if you need to as well, at least until you get things going.”

We thanked him for his assistance and departed from the cluttered building. The streets of the town were vacant, spare the griffin guardians watching from the roofs of some buildings as if they were gargoyles. Our arrival onto the streets of the town stole the gaze of many of the watchdogs. I flipped my hood up to hide from their eyes and Catalyst walked very closely as we continued our stroll towards the large building at the center of town. Antiquity had told us that the headquarters for the judge was the structure behind the looming guillotine in the center of town.

As we crossed the threshold of the ancient structure and were greeted by a young looking unicorn stallion sitting behind a desk, a hoof held his head aloft as he scribbled various letters and numbers onto numerous clipboards with a pencil. His boredom was quickly interrupted by the arrival of two odd looking guests. He was momentarily taken aback by my appearance, but he responded better than most.

“Oh, uh...You must be the, err, guest that Scales mentioned earlier,” he stammered, eyes darting around the room in an attempt to not meet my gaze. “Uhm, what can I help you with?”

“We-” I began.

“Antiquity told us that Scales may have some work that we may be able to take care of,” Catalyst interrupted. I suppose it was for the best that she took care of the conversation with the timid pony, as I might have frightened him into doing something unfortunate.

“Ah, well normally you would need to have scheduled an appointment in order to meet with Scales,” he began. I let out a snort of mild irritation. “But since you’re friends with Antiquity I can let you in this time! He and Scales used to be...err, good friends in the past.”

“Thank you,” Catalyst smiled sweetly at the stallion. He responded with an unblinking, wide-eyed stare, his ears folding back in response.

He rose from his position behind the desk and trotted briskly to the door, gave a quick series of knocks, and spoke up. “Hey, boss! That uh, hound-thing is here to see you! It brought that weird mare too!” I decided to look past the insults for the time being.

“Let them in,” the voice from beyond the wooden barrier replied cooly.

The meek unicorn cautiously opened the door for us, then quickly backpedaled away from us. I shot him a mild glare which almost knocked him flat on his back. We entered the room only to be face to face with the judge, still wearing that old beaten top hat and a cold grin that attempted to convey a friendly demeanor but stopped short of being successful.

“Ah, I was hoping that I would have the honor of meeting the two of you again, but did not expect it to be this sudden,” he spoke up. “Please, take a seat.” He gestured towards two chairs of dubious quality on the side of the desk opposite him. Rather than taking my chances with an ancient piece of rusty metal, I opted to just sit on the floor on my haunches. Catalyst had no qualms with the ancient metal work though, as she rested in the chair. “Now, tell me, what brings the two of you to our little slice of the wasteland?” he continued.

“Antiquity pointed us in your direction, he told us that this town would allow him to reunite with his pack,” I answered.

“And the two of you just decided to escort him here out of the kindness of your hearts?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow at my response.

“Yes,” I replied.

“We had no better place to go,” Catalyst added. “Actually, Dog and I just met yesterday, just right before discovering Antiquity. Dog actually saved me from the same raiders. I made the mistake of assuming ponies out here would be civilized,” she rambled on. “Oh, but no offense to your community. It seems to be rather high functioning despite the draconian system put in place...But I mean it isn’t a bad thing the law is so strict! I mean...I’ll be quiet now.”

Scales stared at Catalyst for a moment, his visage unfaltering in his expression, as if he was contemplating what she had just said. He then let out a soft chuckle. “Heh, I always appreciate a pony who speaks their mind,” he replied with a smile. Catalyst untensed her muscles at the interjection of this information, exhaling a breath she had been holding. “I find it very useful when ponies say what they are actually thinking. Helps to get things done. Can’t tell you how dreadful it is when ponies get too caught up in the politics of matters to do anything about their problems. If there’s a problem, fix it. Simple as that, don’t you think?”

“Right...” I hesitantly answered.

“Now, what was it that you needed of me?” he asked.

“Antiquity said that you might have some work for us,” Catalyst replied. “You know, bounty hunting?”

“Ah, I thought it might be something like that,” he said as he rustled through some papers on his desk, eventually finding the one he desired. “Here we go. There’s a gang of raiders a few miles outside of town that have been attacking citizens of the town from time to time, stealing from passing caravans, and painting rude depictions of myself and other law enforcers on the walls of the town. The leader of this band of criminals is a stallion by the name of Split Hairs. He alone has been attributed to nine counts of murder, thirty-seven counts of desecration of a corpse, twelve counts of rape, and three hundred ninety-two counts of malicious littering, among other crimes.”

“What’s ‘malicious littering’?” Catalyst asked.

“It’s a generalized term that applies to when a someone purposefully leaves about objects that could cause harm to others. You know, stuff like bear traps, landmines, those sorts of things,” he stated.

“Oh,” she observed.

“If you actually wish to go after these thugs. I’d like it if you could possibly bring them back alive, as they deserve a trial, but I'd understand if you needed to deal with them in a more immediate manner.”

“Why is it that you haven’t taken care of these criminals before?” I asked.

“Well, the guards around town are required to remain in town in order to protect it from any potential criminals that may wish to cause harm to the residents. I have sent small teams to attempt to track them down, but somehow they’ve evaded detection at every turn. Perhaps your senses may help you in tracking them down,” he surmised. “From what reports we have of their activity, there seem to be anywhere between five to seven of them, and they are rather heavily armed: landmines, grenades, flamethrowers, and submachine guns. Bring me the helmet of Split Hairs, and I’ll reward the two of you two hundred caps each. You may also keep whatever you are able to retrieve from their base as compensation for dealing with the other members of the group.”

Catalyst and I spoke with each other for a moment before accepting his offer. I felt that this job would be rather easy, as I had already taken down groups of raiders much more well armed than they were. As we departed the judge’s office, we bumped into a rather angry looking griffin. He almost knocked Catalyst to the ground when he collided with her. He responded by looking at the fallen mare and snorting before entering the office. I helped Catalyst rise back onto her hooves. We left the building as I heard Scales address the griffin, who I learned was Diego. They spoke about missing inventory some before I was out of earshot.

We exited the town without any further hindrance. Scales had directed us to what he believed was a camp abandoned by the raider gang a few days ago. I preoccupied myself by digging through the ruins of the campfire while Catalyst sorted through rubble.

“So what was it like living in a pack?” she suddenly asked.

“Excuse me?” I questioned. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Well, I’m rather interested in the social dynamics of your species, as you are so unlike anything I have read about. Apologies if I’m being rude, it’s just that everything I’ve encountered since I have left has been so different than what I am used to, and I find it all so interesting,” she said as she kicked over a stone.

“I’m not the best hound to ask about belonging in a pack,” I replied grimly. Catalyst didn’t return any words, rather she distracted herself by renewing her search. Her efforts were rewarded as she discovered a small torn up book poking out under a collapsed wall.

She pulled out from underneath the rubble to further examine it. Her brow furrowed as she attempted to decipher the illegible log, but the scribblings proved to be too much for her to understand. She tossed the book aside, only for me to pick it up. True, the words were incomprehensible scrawlings, worn away by time and soaked in blood and ash, but there was more information to be gained from this.

A few quick sniffs of the book gave rise to a dreadful concoction of scents: Blood and other fluids, gunpowder, gasoline, and an out of place sweet scent. I recoiled from the assault to my senses, but I had already found their trail. It was faint , but the path they took was apparent enough to track them down.

“They went this way,” I declared, indicating the intangible path with a paw.

“Amazing, you can actually track down an individual just through scents?” Catalyst questioned, tapping her front hooves together in excitement. I gave a nod. “Simply astounding! Your sense of smell must be at least thirty-seven times greater than an equine’s!”

She proceeded to ramble on about various experiments that she simply had to conduct once she acquired a functioning lab. I reminded her that we needed to focus on the task at hand in order to get caps to fund a lab. She then began to surmise the amount of currency she would require to obtain all the supplies she would need, as well as an adequate workspace. I couldn’t help but feel a bit uplifted with her optimism.

It took a few short hours to travel within sight of the camp. We were still a ways away, but we needed to tread cautiously for fear of being ambushed. I was by no means stealthy, but I managed to duck behind the ruins of a nearby building with Catalyst. We likely could have been better prepared for the task ahead, as we lacked very much weaponry or medical supplies. Conversely, I had little use for weaponry, as my natural claws were more powerful than most weapons. However, Catalyst would be at a distinct disadvantage in a fight. I had attempted to get her to stay with Antiquity when we were in town, yet she was adamant about assisting me in my endeavours as a means of thanks for saving her.

Despite my size, I managed to remain silent as we crept towards the camp. Having paws with soft pads on the ends is occasionally more desirable than to have hard hooves. Catalyst also managed to move stealthily towards the camp a short distance behind me. She lacked a prowess for physical confrontation, so there was no need for her to be on the forefront of a conflict. From a distance, I could make out three figures in the dim light, all sitting around a campfire. Another two shadows wandered around the outskirts of the makeshift camp. The scent trail indicated that these were the raiders we were after, the condition of the camp only gave further proof. Strung up to a few of the walls were the fresh corpses of ponies, hooks puncturing the flesh which still oozed a red ichor from the wounds.

Beep.

I looked ahead to see an orange cone in the middle of our path.

Beep.

I noticed something was under it, blinking and letting off an annoying sound.

Beep.

“Landmine!” Catalyst hissed as she dove ahead of me and cloaked the mine in her silver aura, only to lob it forward towards the camp.

Beep.

“What the-” one of the ponies at the campfire began to call out after the metal disk connected with the side of his head, but his words were cut short by a pulpy blast of viscera and shrapnel.

In the resulting chaos, the other two ponies at the campfire ducked to avoid the blast, not entirely succeeding but managing to survive. The remaining raiders that were wandering around the camp turned to the explosion, one of them levitating a pistol, the other had two guns on either side of him with the firing mechanism in his teeth. The four of them quickly located the cause of the explosion and opened fire on us.

I ducked behind some of the rubble of one of the surrounding buildings, Catalyst hiding behind me. I turned to her. “Stay!” I commanded, to which she gave a nod.

I vaulted over the partially collapsed wall and immediately took a small caliber round to my shoulder. It barely made a scratch in my hide, but it still hurt. I dove forward on all fours and lept at the nearest raider, the one with the battle saddle. Both of his guns were blazing as he chomped down on the bit, letting off of the firing mechanism only to let out a scream of pure terror as my claws sunk into the soft flesh of his neck silencing him.

“Kill that damn hound!” shouted one of the raiders to her allies.

“Eat this, asshole!” another shouted as he used his magic to throw an object at me. It was a metallic looking orb, a grenade.

I attempted to leap back to dodge the explosive, but was surprised to see the air around the grenade quickly turn silver and return the item back to the sender, smashing against their skull and then detonating with another blast. I looked back to see Catalyst standing atop the rubble with a smile on her face. I gave her a nod and resumed my slaughter of the raiders.

The mare who had been shouting at her fellow raiders for assistance was my next target. She attempted to fire her pistol at me again, only for the rounds to smash against my hide. Then I smashed against her skull with my front paws. The force of the blow knocked her back to the ground, where I slashed my claws into her underbelly, tearing out the vital organs. Her fallen pistol glowed silver as Catalyst armed herself.

The final raider stood a short ways ahead of the two of us. Perhaps it was the sight of a Hellhound covered and the blood and guts of his allies, or it could have been the sight of the mare who had just caused the rest of his friends to die in spectacular, bloody explosions aiming a pistol that belonged to someone he used to know directly at his head. Whichever it was, he quickly turned tail and ran for his life. I did not wish to chase a fleeing enemy, nor did I think Catalyst would be so cruel as to fire at an unarmed opponent. His death was one caused by his own hoof, as in his haste he did not notice the set of metallic teeth rising from the ground. His back leg was caught in one of the traps, causing him to fall forward and tear a large chunk of flesh from his leg.

Beep. Beep.

The stallion quickly attempted to scramble to his hooves, only to recoil in the pain that struggling against the trap brought him.

Beep. Beep.

The final beep was followed by a third and final bloody explosion. Our victory was short lived, as none of these ponies had matched the description of Split Hairs. From what Scales had told us, Split Hairs wore a cracked skull atop his head, and was an orange coated unicorn with a brownish mane. The raiders wore helmets similar to the description, but theirs were fashioned out of metal, not bone.

Near the camp was a large structure, a memorial to the cruelty of the raiders. The walls of the building were decorated with the fresh corpses of their victims. This was the base of operations for the raider gang, and was where their leader was likely hold up.

My musings were interrupted by a sudden flash and wave of heat. From the doorway of the building emerged a large pony encased in a mishmash of cobbled together armor, topped by an equine skull. In between the ocular openings of the skull was an opening through which the unicorn’s orange horn had been forced. Accompanying the raider leader was swathes of fire being spewed forth by the weapon that adorned his side. Along his chest was a bandolier of grenades of different makes and colors.

“AH HAH HAH HAH!” he bellowed as he blindly sprayed flames across the battlefield, igniting all flammable scenery within reach. “Burn it all! BURN IT ALL!”

His eyes met mine momentarily. I saw no fear in this pony, no empathy, not a drop of sanity. The black spheres held nothing except a desire to kill, and this desire was pointed at us. The barrel of the flamethrower was also pointed at us as he dashed forward through the flames he had created.

I lept to the side to dodge the waves of fire he sent forth, running around in an attempt to flank him before he could react. To his credit, the stallion was fast, and had an even faster reaction time. When I had managed to dive at him, he spun around and delivered a powerful kick with his back legs. They had strange pistons attached to the back to increase the force of the blow. Despite my size and weight, I had actually been knocked back by intense buck. I landed with a thud, and immediately felt like my ribs had been cracked. A few of them likely were.

My reprieve was short, because as soon as I landed, he swung around and let loose his flamethrower. I rolled to avoid the brunt of the flames, but the fur on my arm had been ignited. I patted the flames out before they could spread.

I managed to get out of distance from the flames. I looked over my shoulder to see one of the grenades on his belt glow orange momentarily before he lobbed it ahead of me. I backpedaled to avoid the fiery explosion that resulted.

“DANCE, MUTT! DANCE!” he cackled as he cooked another grenade and was preparing to throw it.

Mid arc, the explosive shifted colors to silver. I glanced to my side to see Catalyst, her horn lit up in an attempt to redirect the grenade back to its owner. Her attempts were in vain, as the stallion redoubled his focus on the explosive, causing it to hover in the air, caught between the two opposing telekinetic forces. Eventually, it detonated, raining down fire and shrapnel upon us. The unicorn had managed to protect himself from the fiery explosion by lighting up his horn with the orange aura, which quickly spread to his body and became a protective bubble around him.

“That little trick won’t work on me, bitch!” he roared before charging at Catalyst’s position.

I ran to intercept him, which was more of a hastened limp on my burned paw. I managed to tackle him to the ground, but he managed to regain faster than I did, and jumped back to prepare another puff of fire. He dropped his shield and bit down on the firing mechanism only to let out a small spurt of fire. He was out of fuel, but was quickly loading a new canister.

“Keep him distracted, I have an idea,” Catalyst whispered as she dove behind some burning rubble..

I had no idea what she was planning, but I dove at the raider claws first. He reacted by quickly reforming his shield. My claws didn’t manage to penetrate his magic, but it had weakened the strength of the shield severely, as the glow it let off had dulled and in places it had cracked. He popped in a new canister of fuel and dropped the barrier to resume his onslaught.

I dove back to avoid the growing flames. I was once again out of range of his flamethrower, so he prepped another grenade. I saw Catalyst’s head pop out from behind a wall, out of view of the stallion. At the apex of the grenade’s ascent, it changed to a silver color. The raider noticed this again, and focused his magic on keeping the grenade in the air. As the grenade detonated and he was putting up his shield again, I watched as the inside of the bubbled shimmered silver for a brief moment. After the bubble had fully formed, I realized what Catalyst had done. She primed the grenades on his bandolier. The raider leader noticed this as well, but it was too late for him to put down the shield.

The inside of the bubble erupted with fire and gore, and the surface quickly shattered once there was no one to keep the power going. What had once been the leader of a band of ferocious raiders had been reduced to a smoldering heap of viscera. Amazingly, despite the potency of the blast, his head had remained mostly intact, and more importantly his helmet was still intact, though the two had been fused together by the heat. I surmised that Scales likely wouldn’t mind the extra parts to be entirely sure that the raiders had been taken care of.

The adrenaline from the fighting started to wear off and the pain started to seep in to replace it. Catalyst had made it through the battle largely unscathed aside from a few minor scratches and bruises. I, however, had sustained the brunt of the damage from the strife. My left paw had been burned quite badly, though it would heal without major scarring. My whole body had been peppered with shrapnel and minor bullet wounds. Luckily, the raiders had been using small arms so these injuries were minor.

Catalyst removed a variety of healing supplies from her saddlebags. She wrapped a roll of gauze around my arm and dabbed some healing potion in the open wounds. My hide tingled as it regrew to close the new openings and forced out the foreign metals.

“Thank you, meat shield,” she chimed with a smile once she had finished doctoring my wounds. I shook my head slightly, but couldn’t help letting out a little chuckle. It was impressive how she had managed to retain her composure through all this violence.

We decided to search the remains of the building for any supplies or caps. The bodies decorating the walls had to have come from somewhere, and they likely once had desirable items on them. Whatever goods they had were not to be found on the raiders, as they each had only a sparse amount of caps. The doorway through which Split Hairs had exited was singed and burnt, as well as parts of the interior. Did he turn on his flamethrower before even opening the door?

The rest of the building was in better shape, though it was worn by age. There were more corpses inside the structure, likely in the process of being prepped to become decorations. Catalyst searched through the desk drawers and cabinets in a few of the rooms, thoroughly searching for any caps or useful objects. She eventually gathered a rather bountiful harvest of a couple hundred caps, as well as a fair amount of ammunition, and even some medical supplies.

We eventually encountered a locked door at the end of the hallway. Split Hairs had likely once held a key for it, but that bit of metal was likely scrap embedded into the terrain by now. Catalyst suggested picking the lock, I opted for a simpler solution and ripped the door from its frame, the ancient wood easily giving way to the force being applied.

The inside of the room was in much better condition than the other areas littered with trash and bodies. It appeared to be a storage room, the walls lined with shelves that held a large array of explosives, ammunition boxes, emergency medical kits, and a terminal was propped on a large box on the other side of the room. I began looting the shelves of their contents while Catalyst dutifully tapped away at the keys on the terminal. Eventually, the digital security gave way to her skillful hacking.

“Hey, Dog, you may want to listen to this,” she said, her encased eyes staring at the screen. “This message says: ‘Split Hairs, I’m giving you these arms in exchange for your help overthrowing that fucker, Scales. That asshole has had it too good for too long. The plan is for your group to attack the town, during the chaos my team will deal with Scales and anyone else who tries to get in our way. The town will be ours, and you’ll have free pickings of the caravans passing by. Remember, you owe me for redirecting those hit squads away from you. -Diego.’ Sounds like they’re planning a coup.” She turned to look at me once she had finished reading the message.

“Well, we took care of the raiders at least,” I replied. “But this Diego may have backup plans in place. We should alert Scales.”

“Right, I’m going to download this file to my PipBuck. Try to find the weapons the message talked about, we can use that as evidence.”

I sorted through the boxes and crates on the shelf until I came to one that had ‘Property of New Chevalin Armory’ plastered on the side. I pried open the top of the container. It was filled to the brim with about half a dozen submachine guns as well as ammunition. I held the container in front of Catalyst and she gave a nod, tapping the metal device of her leg with her other hoof.

*

We entered the town of New Chevalin once again. The light was dimming as the sun was setting behind the cloud cover. In the growing darkness, I could feel the shadowy figures from atop the roofs glaring at us with malicious intent, but they were not going to act yet. They were unaware of our knowledge. I walked through the streets on my back legs, a box hidden under my arm and concealed by my cloak, and what was once an equine’s head now fused with another equine’s skull in my other paw. Catalyst followed behind me, and despite her opaque eye protection, I knew she was glancing at the guardians above us. The building that housed Scales’s base of operations was just ahead. Catalyst opened the door with her magic and we entered, encountering the same unicorn stallion that we had terrified earlier.

“I-I’m sorry but, uh, Scales is in a meeting,” he stammered. I let out a snort and dropped the raiders head onto his desk. The stallion immediately jumped back in terror and disgust, the color drained from his face. “Uh, go on in.”

I picked the severed head up again and left the unfortunate stallion as he collapsed on his desk. I reached for the door to Scales’s office, and heard a crash from inside. I kicked the door open to see Scales propped against the wall, one of the griffin guards holding him by his neck and crushing his throat. The judge noticed our entrance and he desperately tried to choke out words, but nothing but wheezes came out. The traitor griffin also made note of our entrance.

He drew his sidearm in an attempt to fire at us. I flung the raider’s head at the bird, smashing it against his face. He recoiled momentarily, giving me the time to pounce to him. Scales dropped to the ground as I grappled with the griffin. I swiped at the bird’s shoulder, slicing his arm off in the process. He let out a screech of agony before I could slit his throat with my claws. His blood pooled around him as his life drained out.

Catalyst rushed to Scales’s side to aid him. Trickles of blood dripped from his neck where the bird’s claws had pressed. She applied a light wrapping of gauze to stop the bleeding. He looked worse for wear, he sat slumped against the wall of his office attempting to steady his breathing. His top hat rested askew on his head.

“Tha..thank you,” he wheezed in between gulps of air.

“Diego planned to have you killed and take over the town,” Catalyst informed him as she tended to his wounds. “I have a note from him to the raiders on my PipBuck and Dog has a box of guns from your armory that he sent them.”

“No... shit,” he deadpanned.

From outside the office we heard a slam as the front door was busted open. Three of the griffin guards rushed into the room. I tried to swipe at one of them but another caught my arm and twisted it behind me. They were very strong for birds.

“Grab his arms!” one shouted as I tried desperately to claw at them with my free paw. His fellow thugs followed his commands and bound my arms behind me. It took the three of them to hold me down, and even then I was struggling.

Another two griffins entered the room. I recognized the larger of the griffins to be Diego, the traitorous ringleader of this uprising. The other griffin that entered with him ran over to Scales who had been trying to buck the three griffins away from me. The griffin wrapped one claw in his mane and the other around his throat, the talons pressed against his flesh to stop his struggling.

“I knew you’d be trouble the moment you walked into town,” the head griffin spat at me. “I had planned to do this quietly, stage it to look like raiders had done it. But no, you had to fuck up months worth of planning.”

“Diego! Release us this instant!” Scales fumed.

“I think you are in no position to be giving any commands,” Diego replied.

“I’ll have your head on a pike for this, you bastard!” the small pony shrieked, his legs kicking at the griffin holding him in an attempt to free himself, but to no avail.

“Threatening an officer of the law? And threatening to desecrate a corpse?” the griffin coyly responded. “Sharpen up the blade, boys. We got ourselves a double execution.”

The griffins struggled to drag us out of the office and into the street. One of them had his claws on my arm and shoulder to drag me. I replied by sinking my teeth into his arm.

“YEOW!” he shrieked as he tried free his arm from the death grip my jaws had on him. Only when another griffin clawed at my face did I accidentally ease my bite enough for him to rip his arm out, leaving behind a piece of flesh. I grinned as I swallowed the piece of the griffin. This terrified the birds to no end,

I glance back into the building as they readjusted their hold on me to ensure I wouldn’t get another taste. Just inside the structure hiding behind the desk was Catalyst and the stallion. She gave me an affirmative nod, to what I had no idea. All I could do was give a minor nod in return. With that, she sunk down under the desk again before my sight of her was cut off by one of the griffins pushing me along.

Atop the guillotine Diego had perched himself looking down on us smugly. A small gathering of citizens gathered to watch the spectacle as was custom, but a few of the griffins shot their sidearms into the earth to frighten away onlookers. This display of dominance over the town sent ponies running for their homes.

“Scales, why am I not surprised to find you brought before the court?” the griffin sneered. “You are charged with the following crimes: assaulting an officer of the law, swearing at an officer of the law, attempting to evade justice, and generally being an asshole. How do you plead?”

“Fuck off!” the judge shouted. “You’re nothing but a common raider! It’s creatures like you that forced me to result to such methods!”

“The court finds you guilty on all counts and sentences you to death by guillotine!” the griffin cackled as his cronies kicked the pony in front of the execution device. “Get that damn thing off his neck!”

“Excuse me!” shouted a familiar voice. One of the griffins surrounding us turned to the noise and was smacked in the face by a tin can. “I believe new evidence has come to light!” Wait, why did that can have nails on the side?

Beep.

After a single beep, the device exploded in a glorious and violent manner,eviscerating the griffin and shredding those nearby. The guillotine took a hit as well, as pieces of scrap embedded themselves along the wood causing it to wobble under the weight of Diego. One of the griffins holding me down received a piece of scrap to the skull. I kicked the fresh corpse to the ground and broke free of my stunned captors.

On the side of the street opposite us stood Catalyst, armed to the teeth with explosives of almost every type, levitating three sub machine guns, the stallion from the office levitating a fourth gun.

“Oh look, they found the armory,” Scales said coolly before bucking the griffin behind him in the jaw.

“Don’t just stand there you fools, get them!” Diego shouted as he took to the sky. His minions followed his command and all drew their weapons at the various sources of confrontation they were facing.

One of the griffins aimed a shotgun at me and fired it once. The buckshot grazed my shoulder as I ducked to the ground and ran on all fours to pounce the bird and tear open his chest cavity. Catalyst began spraying the battlefield with hot lead. It was readily apparent that she wasn’t entirely sure how to fire a gun, and certainly had no idea had to handle three of them at once. So it amounted to her just trying to fire in the general direction of things she wanted dead and just by the sheer amount of bullets the griffins were sustaining casualties quickly. The stallion beside her, however, had apparently handled firearms such as this before, as he cleanly fired bursts at the griffins, not even flinching when they fired their own weapons at him.

Out of nowhere, a shadow quickly descended on me. Diego had tackled me to the ground and onto my back, his revolver drawn and trying to fire dead at my chest. Two of his rounds missed as I wrestled the weapon from his grip, but another sunk into my abdomen. I knocked the gun to the side and attempted to claw at the griffin’s face only for him swipe at my arms and deflect the blows. In the chaos of our struggle I managed to eventually kick my feet under his torso and fling him backwards.

He flew through the air for a moment before he collided with the wooden structure of the guillotine. The blade wobbled for a moment before the force of the impact caused it to fall down. The rest of the structure immediately followed the blade on its decent.

SHUNK. THUNK. SLAM.

The guillotine was no more. The griffin caught in the device’s final execution was no more either. The rest of the griffins, seeing their leader’s untimely demise, ceased fighting and attempted to flee. Those with functioning wings became airborne as they ascended away from the grisly scene. Other turned tail and fled on foot. The rest chased after their leader to join him.

“Well, I guess that’s poetic justice,” Catalyst said after the spectacle had ended.

“I can’t thank you two enough,” sighed Scales as he kicked one of the corpses out of his path. “You saved my neck there, literally. Speak with my secretary, he’ll give you adequate compensation for your help.”

“So what do you plan to do now that your guards betrayed you?” I questioned.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he replied, shaking his head. “With the guillotine destroyed, and my police force disbanded, I don’t think I can keep this town safe any more.”

“Do you really need to rely on such draconian measures to defend your town?” I asked.

“I’m afraid I do,” he responded solemnly. “Such strict laws are a necessary evil in order to keep the peace. Without the iron hoof of justice ready to come crashing down on criminals, what is to stop ponies from from stealing, raping, and murdering?”

“But is death always the answer for every crime? What separates you from these common murderers? The idea that you are justified for your actions?” I pressed on, Catalyst remained silent, adding nothing to the conversation other than the occasional glance up from the ground.

“I...I’m getting justice for those they harm,” he returned after a moment of thought.

“Is it worth betraying yourself? Is it worth leaving foals fatherless?”

“I’m trying to bring law back to the wasteland! I’m bringing order, and peace!” he retaliated.

“Look around, is this peaceful?” I returned, waving a paw at the carnage that lay strewn before us. “Not even counting the griffins, what about the ponies you’ve put to death? How many lives have you ended in your pursuit of justice, and how many actually deserved it? Killing those who do not deserve it is not order, that is chaos. There are those who deserve punishment, and those who are just trying to survive, not intending to harm anyone. There have got to be ways to keep the peace without relying on murder as the go to solution.”

He stared at me for a moment, before breaking eye contact to look to the ground. “I...I’ll think about ways to get justice fairly. But first, I’d need new guards that could defend the town from raiders, guards that I can trust.”

I gave a little smile. “Know of anywhere you could find such guards?”

“I have a few old friends that owe me a couple of favors, they could find me the aid I need, but I can’t leave the town in a condition like this. With no guards to defend, and without my guidance, the ponies here would be in trouble, I can work out temporary defenses until something more permanent can be set up.”

“I can help you find guards to defend the town,” I offered. I looked over to Catalyst who gave a little nod in return. “We could help you out.”

“All I really need for you two to do is track down a pony, she can help set everything else up. Mare by the name of Casing, used to work with her from time to time. She’ll know some guards that can help out. Only problem is that I’ve been out of contact with her for a while now, so I’m not sure where you can find her. Try asking Antiquity about her, he might have heard a thing or two about where she’s been lately.” He turned away from us. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must check on the residents of the town to make sure everyone is okay and to calm them down.” With that, he trotted away.

We departed from the scene of the battle to return to Antiquity, but not before receiving our pay from the secretary. His adrenaline levels had clearly lowered, as he cowered in my presence once again. I opted not to mess with him further, and simply wished him well as we left.

We arrived once again at Ricketts’ home shortly after. Antiquity lied on a bed covered in shining, metal clutter, sound asleep, blissfully ignorant of the battle that had been fought outside a few minutes previously. We roused him from his slumber and regaled him with the events that had happened since we had last spoke.

“Shit, you two know how to stir everything up, don’t you?” he chuckled, a lit cigarette shook in his mouth with each breath. “How the hell did you get Scales to change his mind about how he runs things?”

“Mutiny can do a lot to a pony,” Catalyst surmised.

“I reckon, so who did he want you to find again?” he asked.

“Her name was Casing, I think,” Catalyst replied.

“Ah, I remember her. Pretty little mare, but she could bite the head off a hellh-err, Manticore,” he said after remembering who his present company was. “She was a clever filly, always getting into some sort of trouble or another, but she’d try to do the right thing no matter what. Last I heard, she was playing sheriff at a town a couple miles away.” He let out a puff of smoke before continuing. “But that town had been attacked by raiders or something a couple weeks back, so I’m not sure what’s become of her. Still, best bet is that if she’s still alive, that’ll be the best place to look for her.”

“Thanks, Antiquity,” Catalyst replied.

“I wish you luck in returning to your company, farewell,” I said as I turned to leave.

“I’m sure we’ll be meeting again soon, but goodbye for now,” Antiquity replied as we exited the building. We left Ricketts’s establishment only to come face to face with Scales once again.

“So you two are leaving already?” he asked. I nodded in response, “I see. You two have been very helpful to me, to this town, and especially to Antiquity. I can’t thank the two of you enough, so I wanted to give you something a bit more meaningful than caps.” He twisted his head to his side and pulled his sidearm out of the holster with his mouth and set it on the ground in front of us. “This was my favorite revolver when I used to work as a caravan guard, it served me well, and I hope it would serve you well.”

Catalyst picked up the weapon and examined it. “.44 caliber rounds, six shot chamber, short range scope, fine condition,” she listed as she poured over every detail of the weapon. “Executioner is engraved on the side,” she noted, looking up to Scales with a bit of confusion.

Scales gave a little nod. “It was my favorite revolver, and now Executioner is yours. Thanks again,” he said before he entered the Ricketts’s building.

As we walked through the streets to leave the town, I felt a bit more relieved. Instead of the harsh glances of the griffins and the cold stares of equines, I met only the thankful gazes of the ponies we had saved from the griffins. We finally set off into the wastes in search of a mare by the name of Casing.

Footnote: Level Up.

Catalyst: Level Up.

Catalyst: New Perk: Rapid Reload- There are advantages to being able to levitate things with magic. One of those is being able to reload weapons a lot faster. Reload speeds with all weapons are 25% faster.

Chapter Four

“What are they doing?” Catalyst asked.

“Not sure,” I replied.

We had been traveling for a couple hours, and had stumbled upon a small group of equines shouting at each other. Unsure of their intents, we took cover behind a nearby rock a short distance away from them. Four ponies were grouped together, three of them circling one. From this distance, I could hear the one in the middle sobbing occasionally. The other three sounded equally distressed, shouting and blaming each other for something. I was too far away to make out the exact words, but I could hear the anger in their voices.

“Should we get closer?” Catalyst whispered.

“I’m not sure. They don’t sound particularly friendly right now,” I responded.

“They sound like they are in a spot of trouble,” she returned. “Maybe we should help them.” I mulled the thought over for a moment.

It was possible they were just clever raiders who acted like they were in need of assistance only to try to kill us for our possessions. Their attempts on our lives would likely be short-lived, but I didn’t want to risk Catalyst getting harmed. While I was still contemplating our course of action, Catalyst had crept closer to the small group. I gave a sigh and joined her.

“This is very dangerous, you do know that, right?” I whispered.

“They might actually need our help.” I gave up arguing the matter with her, as we were close enough that I could hear what the ponies were saying.

“—your fault, you know?” the grey earth pony stallion growled at a tan unicorn mare. Standing between them was the sobbing red earth pony mare. The fourth pony was a white unicorn who was crouched down beside the crying mare, his horn glowing faintly along with an object on her leg.

“Me? You were the one who wanted to take this route!” the tan unicorn responded.

“Only because you didn’t want to go to the last town!” he said.

“You know how they treat visitors there, it would have been a death sentence!” she snorted.

“Shut up both of you! You’re not making this any easier,” the other unicorn shouted.

“Just get it off!” the red mare sobbed. Looking closer, I saw the metallic object around her leg had teeth that dug into her flesh, letting out a faint beeping sound every so often.

“She has a bear trap on her leg,” I pointed out.

“Let’s see if we can help her,” Catalyst said before darting out from behind our cover.

“Catalyst, no!” I called.

“Hey! Do you four need help?” she shouted to the four as she trotted toward them.

The tan unicorn took a step back towards the trapped pony and pulled her weapon at the sudden shouting. The grey stallion drew his sidearm from the holster on his leg and pointed it toward Catalyst, taking a few steps toward her. I rose from behind the rock to come to her aid.

“Stop right there!” shouted the tan unicorn. Catalyst obeyed the command, almost clattering to the ground from the sudden stop. “Who are you two?”

“I-I’m Catalyst and that’s my friend, Dog,” she stammered in response. “I just want to help your friend out of that trap.”

“Not necessary,” declared the white unicorn as a snapping noise was heard. I turned to see that the trap fell to the ground as the mare lifted her bleeding appendage from its grasp, her face, still streaming tears, beamed a smile. “We got things covered he—”

The stallion was cut off mid-sentence as the piece of metal that was formerly attached to the mare’s leg erupted in a violent explosion of metal and dust. The mare was bloodily obliterated in the blast, and the unicorn who had toiled to free her had his face peppered with shrapnel. The other unicorn was hit by the blast as well, and fell to the ground from the shockwave. The remaining stallion stumbled as he turned to watch his friends be killed in the explosion.

Before the dust had settled, Catalyst rushed to the aid of the ponies caught in the blast. Her path was blocked by a series of shots impacting the ground in front of her. The remaining pony had let off a warning shot against her. I leapt over the rock to assist her.

“Stay back! Both of you!” the panicking pony pleaded, pistol shaking in his jaws. He took a few cautious steps away from us.

“Woah, we just want to help!” Catalyst said as she stepped forward slowly, eliciting another shot to the ground from the other equine.

“Bolt...” wheezed the tan unicorn between coughs, weakly attempting to raise a hoof to her companion. “Let them...help...you asshole...”

The remaining pony’s eyes darted to us, then to the ground where the once-tan unicorn was becoming rusted with her own blood. He set his pistol back in its holster and Catalyst ran to him and slung her pack to the ground. I approached beside them as Catalyst began levitating an assortment of devices out of the bag.

“Your friend is losing a lot of blood, and has shrapnel embedded in her neck and side, as well as many grazing lacerations and minor burns,” she listed. “She’ll exsanguinate if I don’t stop the bleeding, but I can’t do anything about the shrapnel. It’s too risky to attempt removal without the right tools.”

“What can you do to help her?” I asked. The other pony stood there in shock, his eyes bouncing between his dead and dying friends.

“I’ll try to stabilize her, but she will be in trouble if she isn’t taken to a medical facility quickly,” she said as she tore strips from the roll of gauze. Her horn glowed as a portion of the larger fragments were removed from the patient, covering the new openings with bandaging wraps. She did the same to the rest of the cuts until the pony was covered in reddened wrappings.

“Will she be okay?” the other pony finally spoke up.

“She should be okay for a few hours, but this was just a temporary fix. Where is the nearest doctor?” Catalyst asked as she finished applying another strip of gauze.

“Uh, there’s one in the town we were headed to, just about an hour away.”

“We’re going to have to get her there quickly.”

Catalyst prepped the mare for transport and the two ponies carefully lifted the injured one onto my back. Scraps of cloth were used as makeshift rope to secure her in place. The earth pony then led the way in almost full gallop as I followed behind at a stable pace, Catalyst at my side keeping careful watch on the other unicorn.

“So what is your name?” Catalyst piped up after a couple minutes of walking.

“Bolt Action,” the earth pony responded without looking back at us, not breaking his stride. “And her name is Hollow Point.”

“What were you doing out here?”

“We’re mercenaries, we were escorting a pony to another town a whiles away. Amazing job I’ve done so far.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll be able to get help for your friend,” Catalyst said, attempting to reassure him.

“Even if she does pull through, her brother died in the blast and the client was obliterated. Our work as mercenaries is through and she might die, all because of me.”

“It is not your fault,” I replied. “You did not set that cruel trap nor did you have any way of knowing what would happen when it was released.”

“Thanks for the help, but can we not talk until we get her the help she needs?” he sighed. We silently continued on our way.

After approximately an hour of travel, the ruins of a city appeared over the horizon. Within these remnants of civilization sprouted a new town created from the scraps of the previous buildings. Life moved within this place, as various colorful equines trotted about on their daily business. They did not dawdle between structures, instead their movements were much more hastened. The atmosphere of the town was uneasy. Not the oppressive feeling of New Chevalin, nor the fear from when Pleasant Springs was under siege, just an unsettledness. I shook off this feeling as we approached Amistad.

“You! Where is the clinic?” Bolt shouted at the first pony we encountered. The startled horse darted his eyes between frantic earth pony and myself. He shakingly pointed further down the street before running into a nearby structure out of fear.

“It might not be best to yell at these ponies,” I said.

“Just come on, we can still save her,” he said as he hurried down the road. Onlookers began to gather at the arrival of a nightmarish creature adorned with one of their bloodied kin on its back. Fortunately none of them attempted to block our path.

The clinic was a shabby looking pile of scrap built within the ruins of a decently-sized home. Despite the exterior’s appearance, the inside of the clinic was impressively clean and tidy. Bolt was already arguing with the doctor and his assistant when I had entered.

“Oh my, I’m amazed she’s still alive,” the doctor said as they worked on lowering her from my back. “Pretty nasty job done to her, she’ll be lucky to make it through the operation. You do have the caps, right?”

“Yes, please just save her!”

“Alright then, get her into surgery immediately,” the doctor said to one of his assistants. “And you three, get out of here. I don’t like spectators, or their pets. Come back in a couple hours and we’ll let you know about her condition.”

“That was uncalled for,” I said as we left the clinic.

“He needs room to work, and we weren’t helping just standing around,” Catalyst replied.

“I meant the pet comment.”

“Oh, I suppose that could be taken to be insulting,” she said with a nervous chuckle. “Bolt, you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah I guess. I just feel so useless waiting around,” he said. “I wanted to thank you two for the help, you might have saved her life. Anything I can do to repay the favor?”

“Actually, we’re looking for a pony, a mare named Casing. We were told she might be in this area,” I said.

“Well, I haven’t been to this town before so I don’t know anyone here, but usually if you’re ever looking to find someone, the best place to look is a bar or other place ponies might gather. Why don’t I tag along and help you two? It beats standing around being worried.”

“I don’t see the harm in having you accompany us,” I replied.

We departed from the clinic in search of Casing. Bolt questioned another passer-by as to the location of the town’s bar and the local pointed us in the right direction. The bar was built on the remains of an existing building, reinforced with scrap metal and rubble to give it that tasteful wasteland aesthetic. The interior of the bar was dimly lit with barely functioning lighting, and was full of a vast amount of different patrons.

Many patrons of the bar stopped their consumption of alcoholic drinks to take note of the strange new arrivals before soon realizing they didn’t particularly care. A few opted to duck out at my arrival and others watched me from the dark corners of the bar. One of the tables had a particularly angry set of customers behind it.

A rather large unicorn, almost as tall as myself, stood up from behind the table, finished drinking from a dark tinted bottle and then floated the empty in front of him. He was flanked by two others, a black feathered griffin with a single mechanical eye glowing a menacing red, and a comparatively small pegasus that had his wings tipped with metal blades. I attempted to avert direct contact with the trio, but Catalyst walked up to the three.

“Excuse me, you three look to be well traveled adventurers, perhaps you can help us, we’re looking for a—” KLONK. The bottle came down onto Catalyst’s head loudly without shattering. “OW!” she yelped, raising her hoof to the injured location as she fell to the ground.

“My buddy was killed by one of you mutts,” the large unicorn spat. “Now I’m gonna—HURK!” he gurgled as my paw wrapped around his throat and slammed him to the ground. He weakly gurgled as his windpipe was being crushed. His horn flickered briefly as he brought the offending bottle back around for another swing. I raised my other arm to block it, smashing it on impact and embedding a few shards in my arm.

“Hey!” another voice piped up from across the bar. “Either break it up or take it outside.”

I glanced up to see the griffin attempting to draw her pistols from the holsters and the pegasus hovering in midair. Catalyst sat on the ground nursing her head injury while Bolt had his gun somewhere between his teeth and the holster. Behind the counter was an angry looking unicorn. A unicorn with stripes.

“Stranger, let him go please,” the striped horse said. “He’s an ass but I don’t want my bar getting wrecked.”

“Dog, let him go,” Catalyst said as she stood back up. “I’m fine.”

I looked back at the still struggling unicorn beneath my paw. His hooves were attempting to wrestle me away in vain. I loosened my grip and the pony scrambled away from me, looking furious between gulps of air.

“This isn’t over, you freak!” he growled. “Come on, let’s not waste our time here.” The three of them left the bar in a hurry.

“Sorry about that,” the bartender said. “Those three are always causing problems but they pay well. So, what can I get for you three?”

“We’re not here to drink,” I replied. “We’re looking for a pony by the name—”

“Wow, what are you?” Catalyst interrupted. She immediately forgot about her previous injury as she leapt toward the bar to closer examine the strange creature before her. “Some sort of amalgam of unicorn and zebra traits? I’ve never heard of a valid combination resulting in a natural scenario. I simply must examine the extents of your magical abilities!”

“Wow, your friend has no restrictions, does she?” Bolt chuckled.

“Uh, maybe some other time?” the unfortunate creature behind the counter replied.

“Aw, I had so hoped to learn about successful equine hybridization,” she said dejectedly.

“As I was saying, we’re looking for a pony by the name of Casing, have any information about her?” I continued.

“Casing? Oh you mean the Sheriff?” replied the bartender. “Why exactly are you looking for her?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Catalyst said.

“I enjoy stories. How about this, trade a story for a drink. I always like to hear what brings travelers to this little oasis in the wastes.”

“Sounds reasonable, just water for me please,” I responded. We spent a while regaling the bartender with our improbable escapades while he quenched our thirst. Thankfully, he brought me my drink in a glass and not a bowl as many have previously done. Bolt opted to keep quiet mostly, but the jovial bartender gave him a drink regardless of his nondisclosure.

“Ah, both forsaken by what was once your home, cast out to the wastes only to discover each other, and the tale of hope for a once-oppressed city, all hinging upon locating a single mare. A vicious beast that has tamed his savage side, and an eccentric genius, paired together and teamed up with a traveling mercenary. I always seem to find the most interesting individuals...” the bartender interjected at the close of our story. I was beginning to become unsettled by the bartender’s over-friendliness. “You do have quite a knack for storytelling though.”

“So can you aid us in finding Casing?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh, her. Yeah, she’s been passed out in that corner for a while before you three got here,” he said gesturing to one of the dimly-lit corners of the bar.

“Thank you for the help, and the water,” I replied. I rose from the bar counter and approached the unconscious mare.

She was an earth pony with a tan coat and mane a few shades darker. Surrounded by dark colored empty bottles, she snored softly in her makeshift nest with a hat covering most of her face. I noted that her front right leg was metal beneath the shoulder. Catalyst crept up to her and began to prod her in the side with a hoof. After about the ninth prod, the sleeping pony began to stir in her sleep, swinging the metal hoof at Catalyst but missing. Catalyst, now irritated, delivered a swift kick to the sleeper.

“Ow!” she yelped. “What’s the big idea?” She flickered her eyes open a few times before fully waking up. “Who the hell are you, why are you kicking me, and why is a hellhound in my town?”

“Oh, sorry,” Catalyst apologized. “My name is Catalyst, that’s Underdog, and that’s Bolt Action. We’ve been looking for you for a while. Oh, and don’t worry about Dog, he’s looks meaner than he acts.”

“Ugh, you bounty hunters?” she groaned, tipping her hat up to better see us.

“No,” I replied.

“Slavers?”

“No.”

“Constructs of my imagination come to haunt me with horrors from my past?”

“What? No.”

“Good,” she said raising to her hooves. “I didn’t need another reason to drink. So why are you three looking for me?”

“Do you remember a pony by the name of Scales?” Catalyst asked.

“Shit, you are bounty hunters,” she sighed. “How much is he paying you?”

“What? He isn’t paying us,” Catalyst responded. “He asked us to find you because he needs your help getting guards for his town.”

“What happened to that crew of pigeons he kept around?”

“He did,” Catalyst answered pointing at me. “They tried to sell out the town to raiders and kill everyone.”

“Damn, you took out a company of griffin mercs? Impressive. But you’re going to have to tell Scales to go fuck himself. I’m not doing shit for him anymore. Besides, I got my own shit to deal with here.”

“What happened between you two?” Catalyst asked.

“That bastard left in the middle of a job. We were supposed to take out a slaver camp, but he hopped aboard a wandering caravan after taking out a manticore attacking them. So while he was getting off on an easy job, I had to take out the camp solo.”

“Is that where you lost your leg?” Catalyst asked.

“Not a very sensitive one are ya?” Casing retorted. “I like directness. Yeah, I lost my leg because of that job, though that wasn’t until a while after. See, the thing about slavers is that they always see an opportunity. I rolled into their camp intent on killing every last one of them, and only made it through two before they caught me off guard and slapped one of their fucking collars on me. My neck still hurts thinking about that.” During her story she had been kicking around the bottles at her feet looking for one that wasn’t empty. Eventually she found one to her liking.

“Anyway, those fuckers took a liking to torturing me as payback for their dead buddies,” she continued. “I think they didn’t sell me because they weren’t done breaking me yet. But I don’t break. I faked being their broken little bitch for a while, till I got the opportunity to stab one of them in his fucking neck. Took his keys, popped off the collar and got the hell out of there, but not before I broke out half the ponies there. My way of saying ‘Fuck you’ to the slavers. Of course, they had their own way of fucking me over. One of those sadistic little bastards, Snaptrap I think his name was, tinkered away with a bear trap and a landmine till he made a horrible trap that’ll blow your leg off and take the rest of you with it if you try to remove it, so one of the bastards I rescued from the slavers had the bright idea to hack my leg off with just a knife.” She made a sawing motion with her regular hoof just above the metal. “Bastard. Saved my life, but still a bastard. Anyway, that’s how I landed in this shit hole of a town. Half this town is runaway slaves, and the rest are mercenaries who don’t give a shit about taking care of the slavers because nobody has the caps to afford it. Hell, we still have ponies go missing every couple nights because of those slavers.” Quite a sunny disposition she had.

“But long story short, fuck Scales, fuck the slavers, and fuck you three,” she said before taking a drink. “Mm, not you though, I like you,” she said to Catalyst.

“Wait, explosive bear traps?” Bolt spoke up.

“Yeah, real nasty piece of work.”

“Where is this slaver camp?” he asked.

“It’s a couple miles northwest of here, big prison complex. ‘Course they’ve got snipers on duty ever since I broke out of there. Trust me, that place is impenetrable, I lead a couple attacks on it with some of the other former slaves and we’d never gotten through the gate before we racked up too many casualties to continue. Though if you want to head up there, feel free. That’ll be a few less bullets for them to shoot at us.”

“Alright,” Bolt Action said as he stormed out of the bar.

“What’s the deal with him?” Casing asked before taking another swig of the dark bottle.

“One of his friends was trapped in one of those explosive traps,” Catalyst explained. “Two died and another of his friends is still in critical condition.”

“Oh, well he’s probably going to die then,” Casing said as she slammed down the empty bottle. “But maybe we can help each other out. See, I want those slaver fucks dead, but I can’t get near them. You want me to do some shit for Scales or something. I had a little idea for a covert operation, but I can’t do it, nor can I convince any of the idiots around here to do it. Would you two be interested?”

“What would we have to do?” I asked.

“Well the slavers are sadistic assholes, but they’re still slavers. Every so often they’ll have clients roll up to their gates and leave a lot of caps lighter with some new unpaid workers in their employ. If someone were to pose as buyers, they might be able to get close enough to murderize all the slavers there. Of course, I can’t show my pretty mug there again without having it blasted before I even get close to the main gate. See the problem?”

“So we act like we want to buy some slaves, kill the slavers, free the slaves, and get out?” Catalyst reiterated.

“Yeah, it’s not that difficult to understand. Now go murderify some slavers or whatever, I feel another nap coming on,” she said as she collapsed back into her pile of trash.

“What is wrong with her?” Catalyst whispered. I simply shrugged as we left the bar.

We managed to intercept Bolt Action before he got to the prison. It took a little bit of effort but we managed to convince him to go along with the plan. We argued for a while as to a reasonable story as to why we needed to purchase slaves before settling on Catalyst’s idea that she was the mistress of an arena in search of combatants to feed to her vicious hellhound pet for the entertainment of the arena’s patrons and Bolt was the hound’s caretaker. I objected the idea but was beat two to one. They created a makeshift muzzle out of some scraps of cloth, but made sure it was loose enough that I could unsnap it if need be. Worst of all, they took away my cloak and tied a leash to my collar. This was one of my least dignified moments.

We soon came in sight of the slaver camp. It was a large mostly intact series of concrete structures surrounded by a sturdy wall. The complex was amazing in how it seemed to have been almost untouched by the decay of time. The walls stood strong, resisting the temptation to crumble to rubble as most other buildings had. As we approached the prison compound, Bolt leading me with the makeshift leash between his teeth, a bullet whizzed above my head. A piercing static crackle came from one of the towers.

“That’s far enough!” a voice came over a loudspeaker from within the building. “Remain where you are, we’re sending someone to speak with you. Come any closer and we will shoot, try anything funny and we’ll shoot.”

The gate at the front of the prison slowly lurched open to allow passage for a duo of ponies. One of them was an orange unicorn with a deep red mane, the other was a blue earth pony with a dirty yellow mane. The blue one wore heavy-looking armor that was adorned with a rifle on both of his sides, connected by a firing mechanism in front of his mouth. The orange one wore a lighter armor and had a pistol in his leg holster and some sort of baton in a holder on his side. The two of them soon approached us, standing a short distance away that they were able to speak without being too close.

“Welcome to our humble little establishment,” the red one spoke up. “My name is Firebrand, what brings you here?”

Catalyst cleared her throat and put on a disturbing smile.“I run a small business to the East, an arena where contestants may challenge vicious creatures in combat for fame and glory. I pit them against my prized pet hellhound as well as many of the wastelands other dangerous fauna for the entertainment of the crowd,” Catalyst said. “Unfortunately, we’ve hit a bit of a dry spell when it comes to fresh meat for the ring. No ponies are willingly competing, so I thought forcing some to compete might help drum up business.”

“Ah, sounds fun. We may have what you’re looking for, provided you have the caps of course. You do have money, don’t you?”

“Why of course I do.”

“Good, we lost a bit of our stock recently so the ones we do have right now are a bit more pricey, but they’re sure to put on a good show.” The slaver laughed. “Come along, though I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave your mutt outside, can’t have it tearing up the place.”

“Oh don’t worry, he is expertly trained. He’s a killer in the ring but is very docile outside of it. Besides, I want to make sure any combatants I purchase don’t immediately faint at the sight of one. It doesn’t make for a good show, you understand?”

“Fine, but we won’t hesitate to put a bullet in its skull if it makes a mess of the place. Same goes for you and the handler.” Bolt yanked on the leash and pulled me ahead.

We crossed through the threshold of the gate, the metal groaning as it shut again. A large wall defended the prison yard, guard towers placed in every corner. Atop the towers were slaver ponies armed with various weaponry. Suspended from the towers were automated turrets that hummed and beeped as they watched over the yard. Armed slavers wandered around the interior of the complex. Inside the safety of the fortified walls stood three large structures lettered with A, B, and C in faded white paint on the side and an even larger building in the center of the yard. Aside from the buildings, there was a large fenced in area that had a few beds and a table lined with various medical instruments. A yellow unicorn in a blood-stained coat stood next to one of the beds where a small colt was being bandaged. One of his legs was bound by a brace and his right eye was heavily bandaged. His neck wore a heavy looking metal collar a size too large. He was shivering slightly, making the job of the attending unicorn more difficult. The colt didn’t have a cutie mark, rather he had a black mark charred in his hide with a stylized R.

“What happened to him?” Catalyst questioned as she approached, her voice sounding more harsh than I have heard her before.

“Oh him, that’s just one of the slaves,” the fiery slaver replied. “Little bastard is always mouthing off or not listening to what he’s told to do. See, sometimes the slaves need a reminder that they need to follow orders, discipline them. Little brat needed to learn some manners, so I had to rough him up a bit. Don’t worry, ol’ Ribcage always patches them up fine, so no lasting damage is done. We would never sell damaged merchandise.”

Catalyst remained quiet, unnaturally still for a few moments. Eventually she spoke.

“Do you have any more foals in this place?” she asked in a low tone.

“No, Scritch here is the only one at the moment. We had more, but due to an incident, they aren’t available for sale. Don’t worry though, some of our best gatherers are working to obtain more, so there should be some in a week or two. The young ones are probably much more entertaining to see up against this big guy, huh?” he chuckled. Catalyst didn’t respond.

“Ouch!” the colt yelped as the doctor stitched a wound on his forehead closed.

“Sorry, I did warn you it would hurt,” the doctor apologized.

“Can’t I just have another candy?” the colt asked.

“Fresh out of candies, but take a drink of this,” the doctor said pleasantly as he uncorked a small bottle of purple liquid. The colt downed the drink eagerly. He soon got a little more jittery and his eyes a bit wider. He didn’t complain about the doctor’s stitching after this.

“Are you a slaver as well, doctor?” Catalyst asked, almost spitting the word ‘doctor’.

“Me? Oh no,” Ribcage replied as he continued his work on the colt. “I just tend to the slaves and the slavers.”

“So why did you decide to work here?”

“Well, I used to run a clinic in a town fairly far away. One day, a mare came into my clinic asking me to help her. She said something about being shot at by raiders or something and was bleeding to death. So I agreed to help her. While she was unconscious during the life saving operation, a stallion came into my clinic. He said that he was looking for an escaped mare, and offered a reward for any information. I told him about my most recent patient, and he went right into the operating room and attached a collar to her while she wasn’t awake. He told me when she woke up, to send her here and he gave me a small amount of caps.”

“Oh no, I paid you a large amount of caps,” Firebrand argued. “More than I should have even, that bitch was barely able to even get here, much less sell for much.”

“Regardless, after that point we entered a business arrangement. I would sell him ponies that nobody would miss, and he would give me the caps I needed to keep my clinic running. Was mostly addicts, ponies who’d likely gut you for caps to pay for their fix. Nobody really cared what happened to those strung-out junkies, just as long as they were gotten rid of. Anyway, turns out one of the junkies I sold here turned out to have a husband who got a bit upset that his wife went missing. I tried to pass it off as her having overdosed, but he demanded to see the body. I forced him to leave my clinic, but he created a stir in the town and eventually there was a mob knocking on my door. The ingrates ran me out of their town after all the broken bones and gun shots I healed. Firebrand hired me here as the doctor.”

“Alright, enough storytelling,” Firebrand interrupted. “Let’s let the good doctor finish his work. The slave pens are in cell block B, and there are some more in cell block C. Cell block A is empty for the time being, but we should have it restocked soon, once repairs are done.” I noticed a massive hole in the side of the wall, likely caused by an explosion of some sort.

The slaver led us inside the building labeled with a giant B on the side. Inside, a guard sat behind a desk and a terminal on the other side of some metal bars. The slaver nodded to him and he pressed a few buttons on his terminal. There was a buzz as the gate rolled open. The slaver led us further inside the building as the guard shot a suspicious look at me. We entered a large open room with cells lining the walls. There were hallways to either side filled with more cells from what I could tell. Inside a few of the cells were ponies, each fitted with large metal collars. Another guard, a dark tan colored earth pony, patrolled the room, occasionally banging on the bars of the cells to harass the slaves.

“Here is some of our better merchandise,” the slaver began, attempting to beguile us. He walked over to the nearest cell which had a silvery gray pegasus with a purple mane. He has a stylized R burned into his flank where his cutie mark would have been. “This is no ordinary pony! This is a pegasus! Straight from the sky!” He waited a few moments for us to be amazed. We weren’t. “Anyway, this fine slave used to be a soldier in the pegasus Enclave, so he is no stranger to a fight. And he—”

“Hey, you two have any Dash?” the pegasus interrupted, his face pressed against the bars. “I’ll show you a good time if you show me some Dash. Come on, I’ll—”

“Shut up, Jet!” the slaver suddenly shouted as he slammed a hoof against the bars. The pegasus recoiled and fell to the ground. The slaver regained his composure before speaking again. “Sorry about that, this one does have a wee bit of a crippling Dash addiction, but that just means he’ll do anything for it. He’ll try to take on ten hellhounds for some Dash. Probably would die, but he’ll try. Certain to put on a good show.”

“Very... interesting, but what else do you have?” Catalyst replied a little hesitantly.

“Come on, just one hit! Something to stop the shakes, please!” Jet pleaded, once again pressing his face against the bars. The slaver turned to the slave. The unicorn’s horn began to glow red, and soon the bars of the pegasus’s cell began to glow as well. Jet leapt back with a yelp, his face bearing fresh burn lines.

“We have a few more candidates which might interest you,” Firebrand said as he walked to another occupied cell.

Inside the cell was a green unicorn stallion. The tip of his horn bore a collar similar in design to the one around his neck, though smaller in size. His foreleg also had a large metal object affixed to it, though this one was the same as Catalyst’s. His side brandished the same marking as the other slaves.

“This unicorn came from a far away, sealed-off Stable. It’s rumored that ponies who have survived the grueling torture that is living in the isolation of a sealed underground Stable and escape to the wasteland are stronger, more quick-witted, and more cunning than the average pony. Ponies who are raised in Stables can be devastating combatants, so much so that few who face them in battle live to tell the tale!”

“Uhh...” Catalyst said as she tapped a hoof against the metal device on her leg.

“Oh... Well, you must know first hoof the tenacity of Stable ponies in combat being one yourself... I guess.”

“Just as observant as ever, Firebrand,” the slave spoke up.

“Do you want to go back to solitary, Babble?”

“Oh please don’t, then I wouldn’t be able to listen to any more of your sales pitch,” the unicorn said with rolling eyes. “And please, my name is Techno. Get it right for once.”

The slaver’s magic flared up again as he drew the baton from its holder. “Shut your mouth before I bash your teeth in!”

“But master, not in front of the customers,” the slave said while rolling his eyes.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is with the collar and the ring around his horn?” Catalyst interrupted.

“The collars have a remotely detonated explosive charge in them,” the slaver explained, staring at the slave with a furrowed brow. “If activated, the collar will detonate and blow off the slave’s head. It can either be proximity based, meaning it will blow up if they try to leave a designated area, or detonated by the owner should they wish it. With the purchase of a slave, we’ll also include instruction on how to operate the collar, should you wish to set an area where they cannot leave. The horn rings are of similar design, but will block the magic of the unicorn.”

“He forgot to mention that the collars make for a very fashionable addition to any ensemble,” Techno Babble added. The slaver levitated the baton between the bars of the cell and delivered a blow to the slave’s mouth with a resounding crack.

“I’m terribly sorry to have to have done that,” the slaver said, turning back to face Catalyst. “Tell you what, I’ll sell you this one at a discount.”

“We got another one coming in,” shouted the guard from the entrance as the gate buzzed open again. The earth pony colt, Scritch, hobbled into the room.

“About time you got back,” Firebrand shouted at the colt. Scritch said nothing in reply, instead just continuing to hobble in the direction of a vacant cell. “Listen when I speak!” The unicorn levitated the baton to the back leg of the colt. He collapsed to the ground, but quickly picked himself up again. “Bloody useless colts.”

“I’d like to discuss the purchase of some of these slaves,” Catalyst replied, her voice low. “Is there someplace we can discuss business in private? I don’t like to talk caps around my employees.” Catalyst shot a glance back at Bolt and myself. Bolt gave a slight nod.

“Of course, follow me to my office and we’ll discuss prices,” the slaver replied in a jolly tone. He trotted forward and Catalyst walked behind him. “Hey Brick, watch over these two,” he called to the other guard in the room. The earth pony gave a dismissive grunt and resumed his rounds through the halls, paying us little attention.

“Any ideas what to do next?” Bolt asked me in a hushed tone. I replied by staring at him for a few seconds before pointing at the muzzle around my jaws. “Oh, sorry.” He undid the knot and I was able to speak again.

“I am unsure,” I whispered. “The addition of collars to the list of security measures we must go through complicates matters. Not to mention the automated turrets and armed guards.”

“Hey, you two aren’t here to buy slaves, are you?” one of the slaves asked. I looked to see Techno Babble nursing his injured face.

“What gave it away?” Bolt asked.

“I dunno, maybe the fact that you brought a fucking hellhound here. That’s not something a sane buyer would do. Then again that’s not something a smart pony would do either. Plus that bitch didn’t sound at all like she could run a blood sport arena.”

“Any idea how to get you guys out of here and deal with the guards?” Bolt asked.

“Well, the guards here are dumber than shit, all they really have is their firepower. Only one seemed that had a bit of intelligence was their boss, and I only overheard about him from the guards, never seen him. The main thing you need to deal with is the collars. From what I understand about their design, they need to be controlled by a nearby computer. You should be able to disarm them from there, assuming either of you are smart enough to even use a computer. After that—”

“Hey! Scritch!” Jet whispered loudly. He was two cells to the right of Babble, and Scritch was the left adjacent cell from Babble.“Did you get any goodies from the doc?”

“Not enough to share,” the colt replied.

“Oh come on, I split some Dash with you last time. Please, I’m dying here!”

“Will you two shut the hell up?” Techno Babble sternly whispered. “Why did I have to get the cell between two chem addicts? Where was I?”

“You were telling us what we needed to do after disarming the collars,” Bolt replied.

“Oh yeah. Provided you two didn’t fuck up and lock down the computer, collars should pop right off. After that, you can remove the targeting systems on the turrets. They’ll tear through anyone outside.”

“Wouldn’t that mean they will shoot at us if we were outside?” I asked.

“A small price to pay for freedom. Besides, once shit hits the fan, the turrets are going to target you anyway. Hopefully while you two meatshields are running about outside tussling with the guards, I can slip away and be done with this nightmare. I suppose you could just shut down the turrets to begin with, but then you’ll have to deal with the slavers yourself.”

“How did you even become a slave?” I asked. I wanted to wait until Catalyst returned before we made any major moves against the slavers, lest she be caught in the line of fire.

“Great, waste time asking personal questions, very smart,” he retorted. “I worked maintenance in my Stable, shit broke beyond repair, ponies died. They blamed me, and since the Stable couldn’t sustain life anymore, they had to live in the wastes. To do so, they needed caps, which the fuckheads decided to get by selling me to a bunch of slavers. Happy now?”

“What about you, Jet?” I asked.

“Huh?” the pegasus replied as he was once again attempting to press his face through the bars. “Oh, I was an Enclave officer till I got caught stealing. I was thrown in jail and was about to be sentenced to death or some shit, when another inmate made a deal with me to escape. We managed to get out of the jail, and made a break for the surface, but then he betrayed me by shooting at me. I shot back at him, got him through the wing and he fell to the ground and died. I was injured, so I found a clinic and got addicted to their drugs. Dash is my favorite. Will you give me some Dash, giant doggie?”

“I do not have what you seek, but I will try to find you some,” I promised. “What happened to you, young colt?”

“Nothing happened to me, I’ve always been here,” he replied. “I’ll always be here. The nice mare said she’d take me away from here, but she left without me. It’s okay here though, the doctor gives me treats sometimes.” Before I could say anything, Catalyst returned sans Firebrand.

“Uh, hey. Whatever it is we’re going to do, we may want to speed it up,” she said hurriedly, looking over the patrolling guard who was now looking our way.

“What did you do?” Bolt asked.

“Well, I caused the cruel slaver to experience a sudden intake of hydronium ion-rich fluid which resulted in an accelerated breakdown of his internal systems,” she quickly rambled.

“What does that even mean?” Bolt asked.

“She killed him with acid,” Techno Babble translated. “Is it really that hard to understand?”

“Well, ‘is killing’ would be a much more proper term to use, as I theorize that complete cessation of biological systems has yet to occur, and in fact it may be several minutes before he is really dead, but yes, I have caused his demise,”

“Wait, why did you even have acid?” Bolt asked.

“I always carry lab supplies with me. Anyway, I don’t think I left him in any state where he would be able to contact anyone for help, but one of the guards might discover him soon, so what is the plan?”

“We need to find a computer that controls the collars and the turrets, and shut them both down,” I said.

“Hey, Miss,” the patrolling guard called to Catalyst as he approached her. “Weren’t you supposed to be escorted by Firebrand? And wait, wasn’t the dog wearing a muzzle when he came in—” WHAM!

The guard writhed beneath my paw as I pressed his throat against the floor. He gasped for air, tried to call for help but nothing except choking gasps escaped his lips. I increased the pressure against his throat until there was an audible snap. The guard’s flailing quickly ceased.

“Great, now they’re going to know something’s up when they come in here,” Babble sighed.

“Bolt, stay here and guard these three,” I said. “Catalyst and I will find the terminal.”

“Right,” Bolt replied as he drew his pistol from its holster.

“One last thing,” I said. “Catalyst, I need my cloak please.”

We crept up on the remaining guard at the entrance to cell block B. He preoccupied himself by fidgeting with a small radio that was broadcasting music interrupted by static every so often. He didn’t hear me when I had disposed of the other guard, nor did he hear me approach. I spun him around and put a claw to his neck.

“Where is the collar control terminal?” Catalyst asked.

“Ah shit! Please, don’t kill me!” the guard pleaded.

“I said, where is the collar control terminal?” she repeated, this time drawing the revolver Scales had gifted her.

“I would not try her patience, she has already melted one of your comrades,” I added.

“Fuck, alright! It’s in the warden’s office, administrative building! Please just let me—GAH!” He quickly grew silent as my claw pierced his trachea and stole his breath. It then penetrated further and I removed it, slitting his throat open. He collapsed to the ground.

Catalyst began to work on the terminal at the guard’s station. After a few seconds, the gate buzzed again as it slid open. We slipped outside and made our way to the large central building. We were fortunate enough to have gotten inside the warden’s office without being noticed by one of the guards.

The first main room of the office was a canteen of sorts. An ancient refrigerator stood next to dilapidated counters. Empty cans filled the floor and the tables. The building seemed to be mostly empty. We walked the mostly empty halls until we came across a door labeled ‘Warden’.

Catalyst hugged the wall as she opened the door into the office. Her horn lit up as she withdrew a small glass container from her pack. She tossed it into the other room and quickly shut the door again. There was loud bang, a flash of light beneath the door, and a shout.

Catalyst threw open the door and I rushed in. A slaver was writhing on the ground behind a desk with a terminal on it. He was clawing at his own eyes with his hooves, howling in pain. I grabbed him by his neck.

“Is this the collar control terminal?” I asked.

“I’ve gone blind!” he continued to howl. “Oh what a cruel world it is that has cursed my eyesight!” I gave him a few shakes to clear his head.

“Terminal!” I barked.

“Augh, yes, this terminal controls the whole prison!” he whined, his eyes shut tight.

“All I needed to know,” Catalyst said as she sat down at the terminal. She began to work on hacking into the system. “Got it. Let’s see here. Collars, off. Turrets, off. Private messages?”

“Hey, stay out of that!” the slaver spoke up. I slammed him against the wall again. “Ouch, alright!”

The green light from the terminal reflected off of her goggles as she flicked through the messages. “Wow, Dog you may want to take a look at this,” she spoke up after a while. I dropped the slaver to the ground and walked to the terminal.

To: Fuckhead

Wow, you continue to impress me with your ineptitude. First you let that bitch go free and she took half the slaves with her, then you haven’t even been able to bring in any fresh slaves for weeks! If I weren’t busting my ass catching them for you, which I may remind you is not at all what I am paying you assholes for, we would be out of business already. Get your shit in order and start bringing in the slaves.

R

P.S. I need more quality slaves for my special project. Enough of these strung out addicts and uncooperative slaves. If you can’t get me slaves I can actually use I might have to send you and your useless workers down there.

“Is this ‘R’ fellow your boss?” I asked, turning to the slaver. At this point, I had realized that the slaver had stumbled out to his legs and was making a break for the exit. “Stop!”

He let out a whimper as he bolted through the door to the hallway. I chased after him, but he hit a switch on the wall. Alarms started blaring through the entire prison compound.

“Help! Someone help!” the slaver shouted as he scurried through the halls. He didn’t make it far as I lunged toward him claws extended. My claws sunk into his back and tore through his flesh. He collapsed to the floor in a pool of his own blood and strands of flesh. His howling soon subsided.

“You sure know how to make a mess,” Catalyst said as she trotted towards me.

“Says the one who just melted a pony,” I replied.

“True. Anyway I managed to disable the turrets and the collars, but what do we do if they turn it back on while we are out?” I walked over to the terminal and tore through it, rendering the shreds of electronics unusable. “That works I guess. All that’s left is the slavers and getting the slaves out of here.”

The slaver camp was in complete chaos by the time we exited the administrative building. When the collars were disabled, they popped off easily. Apparently a few of the slaves began to rebel when their collars clicked off. Some even manage to take weapons from a few of the fallen slavers.

“Damn it!” shouted one of the slavers cowering behind an overturned table. “Someone get the collars working again!”

A few of the slavers began to run in our direction, opening fire on us. I stood in front of Catalyst, blocking most of the shots directed at her. They sunk into my hide but penetrated little. Low caliber rounds. Cheap ones.

The slavers slowed their advance when they saw their guns had little impact on me. They stopped when I stood up. They turned and ran when I approached them. I ran after them, claws extended.

One of the slavers was too slow to escape. My claws slipped through her throat with ease. She fell to the ground, bleeding to death while futilely pressing her hooves against what remained of her neck. The other slavers were a bit quicker. I sprinted after them, but a unicorn slaver turned on me, his horn glowing. It was only after I had ran into it that I saw the bear trap glowing beside him. It snapped around my left arm, a slight beeping noise was emitted from the hunk of metal.

“Ha!” the trapper slaver yelled out. “Try to remove that, and your whole arm will blow off!” I replied by swiping at him with my right arm. “Aw shit!” He took off across the courtyard, his horn glowing as he attempted to take another trap out of his pack.

The pain in my arm flared up when I put pressure on it trying to sprint after him. I continued after him on my hind legs. A few of the slaves had downed one of the slavers and were savagely beating him to death. A few other slaves shot at the fleeing slavers with the stolen weapons.

The trapper slaver looked back at me with another bomb trap primed. He launched it toward me with his magic. I ducked under it, but he tried to bring it back towards me as he kept running. The trap suddenly fell from the air when the magical glow around it disappeared. I looked to see that the trapper slaver was staring down the barrel of a pistol in the mouth of a familiar earth pony.

“Please don—” BLAM! The slaver fell to the ground with a hole through his skull. Bolt holstered his gun with a sigh, then looked up to see me. His eyes widened.

“Shit, Dog!” he said as he walked up to me. “He got you with one of his traps?”

“It’s alright, I’m sure Catalyst can figure out how to remove it,” I said calmly.

”R-right,” he stammered. His eyes never departed from the trap affixed firmly to my arm, still drawing fresh blood with every movement

The remains of the slavers were finally driven off. A couple of the more vengeful slaves pursued them. The rest looted the deceased slavers and took off with the supplies. We found Catalyst in the makeshift medical area with the injured slave colt.

“How could you do this to a foal?” she shouted at the cowering ‘doctor’ Ribcage.

“I-I-I assure you that everything I have done wa-was forced by the slavers!” the doctor stammered, the fearsome mare towering over him. “They would have enslaved me if I didn’t do what they asked!”

“Shut up!” Catalyst shouted. “You got them addicted to chems, took them from their friends, and then just sold them like property!”

“Please, I did what I had to do! I never would have harmed any of my patients if it weren’t for Firebrand and the others! In fact, I was as much a prisoner as—”

“NO!” shouted a voice. A gray blur dove towards the doctor. “Nonononononono!” Jet repeatedly shouted as he stomped on the doctor’s face until it was nothing but a bloody pulp. “No...no no...” he panted, the pace of his stomps beginning to slow.

“Uh...are you alright?” Catalyst asked.

“Just...working out some pent up aggression,” he replied with a huff. “I’m going to take some of his inventory, you guys can have the rest. Thanks for the help. Oh, and make sure the brat gets his fair share of Dash. Withdrawal can be a bitch.”

“Alright then...” Catalyst said as Jet stretched his wings and took off with a satchel full of medical supplies. “Well this went better than expect—what the hell happened?” she said as she noticed the trap around my arm.

“One of the slavers,” I replied. “Bolt took care of him.”

“Good, I’ll see about disabling the explosive,” Catalyst said as she levitated various implements out.

“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Bolt asked.

“Don’t worry, I’m disabling the mine and not just the spring latch assembly.” Bolt was about to say something, but remained silent. He took a few steps back.

I wasn’t sure what Catalyst did, but it was a few tenuous moments of the clicking of tools, beeping, and the teeth of the trap digging further into my arm. Eventually, the mine gave a final beep before falling off the bottom of the bear trap. After that, Catalyst simply removed the trap and bandaged the wound.

“Thank you,” I sighed.

“Wow, I wish we had you two had found us a couple minutes earlier,” Bolt said. “We’re done here, right?”

“I believe so,” I replied. “Slaves freed, slavers killed and drove off.”

“Great, I’m going to head back to town, I need to see how Hollow is doing.”

“We’ll join you,” Catalyst said. She looked at the colt who had been sitting on the patient bed with his eyes glazed over. An empty bottle was on the bed beside him. “What do we do with him?”

“We can not leave him on his own, a child would likely not survive the wastes,” I replied. “Take him with us, perhaps Casing will know what to do with him.”

“Case...ing” he repeated slowly.

“What happened to him?” I asked.

“He got out of his cell during all the fighting and made his way here, got into the chem supplies,” Catalyst said. “I found him like this. I was going to give him a mix of medicines to flush out his system, but I was afraid it might have adverse reactions on one so young.”

“At least he seems to not be in pain. Put him on my back, I shall carry him back to town.”

Many of the slaves we had released followed us to Amistad. A few of them thanked us for releasing them, others silently went off on their own. We finally managed to make our way to the town. Some of the slaves had already reached the town and were joyously greeted by the ponies of the town. Bolt headed toward the clinic, Catalyst and I went to the bar where we last met with Casing.

“Hey *hic* if it isn’t the big heroes!” Casing called out from behind the bar counter. “I honestly thought you two would *hic* be dead by now. Guess I’ve got shit on my face now.”

“Word travels fast,” Catalyst said.

“Yeah, one a’ those fuckin’ run away slaves told us about a biiiiiig puppy breaking in and freeing everyone and then a rainbow appeared in the fucki*hic* fuckin’ sky.”

“What happened to the bartender?” I asked.

“Who, dat mish mash of mash? Just disappeared like poof, piece of shit. Left me his bar though, so I made myself *hic* welcome. Anyway, I just wanted to thank the four of—the two of you. Here, have some loads of caps!” she suddenly shouted as she threw a few bags of caps onto the counter.

“What about Scales?” I asked.

“Bah, fuck Scales!” she yelled. “Asshole left me to get enslaved, the asshole. But I guess I promised ya I’d meet with him. No promise I won’t hit him in his fuckin’ face when I see him though.”

‘Case...ing?” Scritch spoke up. “Casing!”

“Oh shit, it can’t be. Scritch? Ya little punching bag, I thought you were dead.”

“You left me there. Why?”

“Everything happened fast *hic* so fast. Didn’t have time to get everyone out. I thought I got you out with the other foals until I discovered outside that you weren’t with us.” She stumbled over the bar counter and to the colt. She hugged him. “I jus’ wanted you guys to be safe.”

“What should we do with him?” I asked.

“Ah, fuck. I can’t keep him. I gotta go kick Scales in the face, plus I’m not exactly the best influence on the kiddies.”

“Well what did you do with the other foals you rescued from the slavers?” Catalyst asked. “I haven’t seen any children around here.”

“Right, I had two of the ex-slaves I was with take em up north to another town where they’d be much better off than this shithole. I’m sure Scritch here’d be happier with other foals.”

“I’d be happier in a pile of Dash,” he replied, scratching at the brace on his leg.

“Now look, I want you two to keep Scritch safe. I can’t pay you any more, but please make sure he’s *hic* safe.”

“We will, don’t worry,” Catalyst replied. “Come along now.”

“We should check on Bolt’s friend,” I said as we left the bar, Scritch resting on my back.

“Right, I think the clinic was this way,” Catalyst replied. We found our way to the clinic and entered. Bolt was inside speaking with the doctor.

“Is she going to be alright?” Bolt asked.

“Well, she made it out of surgery, and we’re fairly sure that she won’t be in any immediate danger. That being said, she may have some permanent damage to one of her eyes, and there will be extensive scarring,” the doctor said.

“But she’s going to be okay?”

“She’ll be as good as you can get after that much damage, she’s lucky she got first aid after the blast. Now, there is the matter of payment.”

“I’ll get the caps, just give me a—” Bolt began.

“No need. Casing came in and paid for the whole treatment an hour after your left. She also left a half empty bottle of whiskey for ‘pain relief’ though I highly recommend not giving it to the patient, as it will conflict with the painkillers we gave her. She should wake up in a few hours.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you so much.” The doctor left the room. Bolt turned to see us. “I wanted to thank the both of you, you saved Hollow’s life.”

“So what will you do now?” I asked.

“I think I’m going to stay here for a few days, let Hollow recover. Then we’ll figure out what happens after that. What about you two?”

“We’re taking this colt to meet up with some other liberated slaves,” I said motioning to the now sleeping colt on my back.

“I wish you two luck in the future,” Catalyst said.

With that, we departed with the colt Scritch in search of the freed slaves.

Footnote: Level Up

Perk Added: Hulking Runt: By pony standards, you’re the biggest guy around. By Hound standards, you’re the runt of the litter. But you’re still growing strong! Every time you level up, your health greatly increases!

Catalyst: Level Up

Catalyst: New Perk: Intense Training: You’ve learned how to better sway ponies with your words. +1 to Charisma permanently.