Fallout Equestria: A Wastelander Tale

Fallout Equestria: A Wastelander Tale, Chapter Sixty

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"Now drink." Rattlebones instructed Plasma and I. The bitter concoction was not the easiest to drink, and not even the pear flavor helped. But I've swallowed way worse than this, so there was no struggle to get it down. "Good good, this should suppress the curse, if only for a time."

Doctor Helga held one of the bottles containing the potion, looking at it with a dispassionate annoyance. "This is why I don't trust magical brahman shit, always with the uptuse rules and resistance to sound science. If it was up to me, I'd hit everything with some sort of anti-magic field to keep it gone."

Rattlebones chuckled as he began to fill two canteens with the potion. "You griffins never were fans of magic, nor that forward thinking in what comes next. If you get rid of magic, then some other problem will come around to ruin your day. It's like what we say about war and how it never changes. Oh war does change, all the time actually. New guns are made, a change in tactics, or a new threat shows its head. But why war exists, now that never changes."

"Ya ya, I know all that. I didn't become an old Talon by being ignorant." Helga said as she passed the bottle to Rattlebones. "When some creature wants something, be it a need or desire, and they are unable to get it through peaceful means, they take it through force."

The old stallion smiled and nodded, "War as politics by any other means. It really makes a pony appearance how good Celestia was as a ruler, with a thousand years with only a few major conflicts. Or so the legends about her goes."

"Ehh, I bet she was just a tyrant with seriously fucking good PR and covert organizations." Helga said pessimistically.

"Even if that is true, it makes her no less a legendary ruler." Rattlebones said, still smiling as he passed the canteens to Plasma and I. "Now if you feel your mind wandering, or your nether twitching, then take a sip from these trusty Filly Scouts canteens."

Taking the green and tan canteen, though weathered, the gold like medallion at the center still shined with an image of a young mare on it. Shaking it, the inside sloshed with the the sound of the potion, it's bitter smell lingering in the air. "Are you sure this will help?" I asked.

"For a time it should help you keep a clear mind." Rattlebones told me, then said with a chuckle. "Understandably, not many ponies do much potion research for suppressing one's sexual urges. That's why there's over a hundred recipes for love potions, and almost none for celibacy. Fortunately a potion meant for meditation does help suppress the venue root curse."

Doctor Helga then took a closer look at Plasma, looking into her eyes and mouth. "Hmmm… hard to tell, but there might be some changes. Nothing major, but do check in with me later for a full exam. We still don't know the full extent this curse will have on your body." She then backed off and turned to me. "Also I wouldn't trust that potion too much, and don't take this the wrong way, but the two of you would have been fucking around even without the curse. Probably more knowing you, Lottery,"

I felt insulted, and a little miffed. "No way I'd be slutting it up, especially not returning to the Showroom."

"But you would be fucking Cold Trails more if not for the venues root." She told me.

I looked away, finding the jars on the counter strangely more interesting. "Maybe."

Rattlebones laughed. "No shame in that Miss Lottery, none at all. Not like most ponies out here give two shits on who you fuck, or how many of them. I was actually quite the casanova back in my prime, and my first wife, a hunter, was a prostitute as side job to support the family." He then sighed. "Always feared she would run off with some rich stallion, not be taken by illness."

He then pointed his yao guai skull staff at me, it clattering with its string of bones. "That said, there is a difference between free love and betrayal. And once crossed, any relationship will crumble."

Doctor Helga grabbed the staff, pulling it up and out of my face. "No one is here for relationship advice, especially from a stallion with a thing for sex workers." She then returned her attention back to me. "What I was getting at is that, even with the curse suppressed, it's likely not going to stop either of your natural urges and interests."

Backing off, Doctor Helga pulled out a cigarette, lighting it to take a long puff before continuing. "I'm no psychologist, but I have seen enough traumatized mares to know that even when a mare has no interest in fucking, they will still due it just to faint control.” She then eyes Plasma. "Curse or not, you were likely going to end up in the Showroom to recreate your time with the raiders, of which I have no doubts. Maybe not so quickly as it happened, but you're clearly self medicating with sex, chems, and self harm. Not the first time I’ve seen it, won't be the last."

Plasma looked ashamed of herself as she held herself tightly. “Is… is there any hope for me?”

Doctor Helga shrugged. “Up to you. Most mares who self medicate like you tend to burn out and either kill themselves, or wander off and become a cheep whore before getting killed by some raider they’re fucking. You got friends, which is rather rare out in the wasteland, so rely on them.”

Plasma slowly nodded as she took a quick glance at me. “Thanks… I’ll give it some thought.”

After a moment of silence, I put the canteen into my saddle bag, then got out of my seat and threw the bag over my back. “Alright, it’s time we get going, Grizzly got a sky cart waiting for us. You ready, Plasma?”

She did the same, getting up and putting things away, if a bit slower. “Uhh… I guess. I know this was my plan, but now that I think about it… maybe I’m not the best to talk with them.”

I rolled my eyes and pushed her to the doorway. “Nonsense, we need a pony to speak Steel Ranger, and you're the only one we got who can.”

“True, but…” She tried to protest, but I was not having it.

“No butts, you're coming with us. It’s that or you stay under house arrest.” I told her as I pushed her out.

She eventually relented and we were on the move. The poor mare had a bit of a hard night after leaving the Showroom, requiring an extra scrub down after getting to the penthouse, and plenty of water to drink. The biggest problem was that even though she had been sobered up, the cures still had her like a bitch in heat, which somehow had my own cures acting up as well. In the end, I ended up tying Plasma down to the bed for the night, and I had to hit my head on a wall until my own urges settled down.

In the morning Plasma had calmed down, and after having something to eat, we headed to Doctor Helga first thing. Now with the potion at hoof, and a change of bandages, I felt a bit calmer around Plasma, a bit more in control of myself.

“So, ummm.” Plasma said nervously. “Once the curse is lifted… could you, you know… dominate me… again?”

“Oh fuck off Plasma!” I huffed out at her.

After a moment of silence as we trotted, we then began to laugh. The tension between us lifting.

“How about, I'll think about it.” I told her, still not interested in mares, but a bit curious about doing something more. Plasma was a rather good sub, if a bit too into being degraded. “I’ll talk with Cold… maybe Spell Circuit.”

“Another stallion is fine, but I don’t know about Spell… I rather he does not know about… everything, actually.” Plasma sheepishly said.

I shrugged. “Maybe, but you do really look cute together. I say if you’re going to continue to have sex despite the cures, better him then all those random stallions.”

A pervi look crossed Plasmas face, and she quickly took out the canteen and sipped it, regaining her composer. “Maybe talking about this is not the best idea… but, the fact that I don’t know them makes it more… shameful, ya know.”

I took a sip of the canteen just as memories of my first week in the Showroom surfaced. “No I don’t. Unlike you I don’t like being a cumdump.” I said flatly, getting my point across with a glare. “Anyways, you slept with Spell, so he can’t be that bad.”

Plasma looked… disappointed. “Well… I can’t say he was bad, nor lacking in anything. But I had to lead him all the way… it was just… not a big turn on for me. I want my mane to be pulled, to be called a whore as my head is shoved into the ground, and to be as rough as possible. He was just tender… and meek.”

I sighed. “Your fucked in the head, Plasma. Like real bad. Still I really want you to not to go back to the Showroom, at least not until the curse is lifted, okay. And if the urges can't be controlled, then for you to be with somepony we all can trust. But if Spell is not your type, I’ll stop pushing it. Sorry.”

“What, no!” She blurted out. “I mean… I don’t know. It’s not like I don’t like Spell Circuit. He is the only pony I’ve meant out here that I can talk acano-tech with, along with having the same love of reading books as I do… well mostly the same.” Plasma then took a deep breath, clearly conflicted as she tried to put her thoughts together, struggling to find the words. “What I mean is… well… Sex wise I’m not interested… but intellectually, I am. Does that make any sense?”

Truthfully, I was having a hard time understanding. “Soo… you just need him fuck you rough and call you a whore, and things will be all good?”

Plasma looked at me with disappointment, as though she just realized I was actually a dumb fuck hick from the middle of nowhere. Which I actually was.

She then looked away from me, and let out a soft sigh “Well… maybe… I guess. But I just don’t think he has it in him. Anyways, this stuff should be the last thing on our minds.”

I guess I was pushing things too far, maybe wrapping Plasma up in my own fantasies. Just the idea of sex was enough to get me interested, and I needed to just stop. But still, I wanted my friends to be happy, all of them. Plasma was never going to be happy at the Showroom, or with random strangers. As for Spell, I had no doubt he would end up hiding away in some library until he was old and gray. Molo and Low too had problems, I didn’t know why, but I felt that my friends were all not doing well, but there was no way for me to help them. Or maybe I was just sticking my nose in where it didn’t belong.

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I still hated flying, even with it being a safe cloud wagon, I hated it. Without any distractions all my mind could focus on was how high we were up, and how painful it would be if I fell from here.

This time we were a team of four, that being; Plasma Cutter, Cold Trails, Spell Circuit, and myself. I suspected that Grizzly wanted mostly just the smarter ponies to talk with the Rangers, with myself as representative of Ursa's Den.

Having to geared up, I felt considerably exposed without my jumpsuit and armor. They had been utterly destroyed by Flyright, and the twins had stolen many of the good dresses, leaving me with a limit in selection to pick from. So now I looked like a very dangerous casino worker. At least I had a nice pair of shorts so that my cunt wasn't hanging out.

"Look at that, I think that's the remains of Clover Town." Spell said as he looked over the edge.

I didn't need to look over myself as I could see the thin strips of black smoke from far off. But stealing myself I looked over, and saw the burnt out ruins far below. Too far to see any detail, but it was clear that nothing had been left unburnt.

Spell sat back, looking troubled as he unfolded a map. "The Talons were right, the raiders have pushed in as deep as possible and are destroying as much as they can. We can only hope the residence got away in time."

"I know I shouldn't be the one asking, but what's the point of such needless destruction?" Cold asked.

"It disrupts the supply line and increases refugees. This region mainly grows tatos due to how easy they grow. There's also a few brahmin and bighorn heard that move between settlements. Actual Clover Town did their best to make animal feed, and grazable land for livestock, clovers actually. It's edible for us, but not that good tasting." Spell explained.

"In short, Tripwire is trying to starve us out." Plasma commented.

"Yes and no." Spell said with a worried look on his muzzle. "Panic will likely kick in before starvation. Ursa's Rest is like a can of cramped ponies, most of which have little to no ties to each other. If they think the food will run out, it's going to be harder to keep order as they all start fighting among each other. I have no doubt that if we fail to stop my brother, the fleeing ponies will likely be pushed onto Gwadina to weaken what order she has managed to establish before attacking her."

A grimace crossed my muzzle as I imagined it. "Using innocent ponies as weapons, sounds like him."

"And nothing new for a member of a slaver family." Spell added. "Before Redeye, it was not an uncommon tactic to flood a smaller rival family with slaves. Having so many mouths to feed takes time to reorganize, which weakens them for attack. It was a rather effective tactic for removing upstarts since they didn't have the infrastructure for housing so many ponies. Well… that was until Redeye showed up, where that tactic proved to only add to his power. A few of his captains were actually former slaves."

The feeling of descent cued that we were reaching our destination, and after over an hour of flight, I'll soon be on the ground. Taking a nervous look, I could only see barren landscape, it cracked from the now ever present heat.

"Over there!" Plasma said, pointing at a lone mound. "That should bunker applecore."

Squinting, I could make several tents next to the mound, and the closer we got the more clear things became. I could see that there was a large crowd of ponies among the tent, many of them gathering around what I guessed was the entrance to the bunker.

With a dip and a turn, the pegasuses pulling us flew down to a clearing, where several ponies were waiting for us, one in red robes and two others in red and green painted armor.

Plasma curled up a bit, clearly nervous, so I patted her on the back. She glanced at me, pulling out her canteen to take a sip, then took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm calm, I can do this." She said, psyching herself up.

Landing, I wasted no time putting my hooves on the ground. Flying may be the fastest way to get around, but if time was not against us, I would rather trot.

With loud clunky hoofsteps, each movement aided with the sound of pistons, two towering power armored ponies trotted over to us, each having a mini-guns on one side and a big ammo case on the other. Between them was an older unicorn stallion in a red robe with a lot of pockets. Actually it looked more like the hiking gear that Rattlebones used, but was also a robe.

"Ahh good, you're finally here." The unicorn said, sounding less than pleased by our presence, but still giving us a bow. "I'm the senior scribe, Candy Apple Cobbler. You can just call me Senior Scribe Cobbler. Now the messenger said you had one of ours with you?"

"Yes, that's right." I said, feeling a bit intimidated by the angry looking power armored ponies. "I'm Lottery, and these are my friends, Cold Trails, Spell Circuit, and the pony mentioned, Plasma Cutter."

Plasma trotted forward. "Scribe… former scribe Plasma Cutter. I primarily work in armor and weapon maintenance for the chapter under Star Paladin Spritz Cookies command. Well until the schism that is."

"Right, Spritz. A true Steel Ranger if I ever saw one, though overzealous at times. Seeing that you're alive, I assume you took a neutral stance in the fighting." Cobbler asked with a raised eyebrow.

My friend looked away as she answered, clearly still embarrassed by the events. "Actually, I didn't even know the schizim had happened at the time. I was actually exiled for not answering the Star Paladins call."

Cobbler looked disappointed by that answer. "I'm not sure if that is better or worse than if you had joined the Applejack Rangers. As the codex clearly states-"

"All rangers must be ready to answer a call to arms, no matter the situation. Failure to do so puts all our brothers and sisters at risk, and must be harshly punished." Plasma said, finished what Cobbler was about to say.

The older stallion then smiled. "At least you still remember the codex, unlike these fools. If you work hard, maybe you can rejoin your brothers and sisters in the Rangers."

Both Plasma and I looked at Cobbler in confusion, Plasma asking, "Senior Scribe Cobbler, aren't you an Applejack Ranger?"

The old stallion gave an annoyed huff. "Scribe Plasma Cutter, my duties here are the recovery, cataloging, and protection of the artifacts left to us by our ancestors. If I had left with the other Steel Rangers, then there would be nopony to keep these buffoons from squandering our heritage. When the Steel Ranger returns to reclama this bunker, I'll be here to greet them, and with everything inside intact."

Plasma looked both surprised, and… impressed. "A true scribe that we all should aspire to be like."

Scribe Cobbler looked impressive with himself before looking back at the bunker. "Well as much as I like to be flattered, best if we take this inside. away from the prying eyes of savages… Present company included of course."

As he turned around, so did the power armored ponies, who were strangely agile despite being in bulky armor. Trotting along behind them, I could see Applejack Rangers tending to injured ponies, or passing out water and bar shaped food. The other wastelanders didn't look happy, some seemed to be quite upset as they gathered around the bunkers entrance.

"This isn't helping, it's just prolonging our suffering!" One wastelander shouted at a ranger who stood behind a blockade.

"Were all going to die if we stay out here! Let us in!" Another Wastelander shouted.

An Applejack Ranger addressed the crowd, the armor amplifying their voice. "Please settle down, we're doing what we can! The elder and our paladins are strategizing how to solve this issue to the best of their abilities."

"Brahmin shit! Just give us the guns!" A third wastelander demanded.

"Ya, if you're not going to kill those raiders, we will!" Another angry wastelander demanded.

Looking at them, the ponies were all dusty and thin, some dressed in rags, and a few in tattered jackets that seemed a bit too warm to have on in the sun. "I'm guessing these are all the refugees from the surrounding settlements. But why are they here?" I asked

"Idiocy and desperation." Scribe Cobbler answered, then explained. "The raiders have made sure that the only place they can go is here. And since…. Elder…" There was contempt in his voice as he said elder, clearly not liking whoever the pony was. "Since she promised to aid the ponies of the wasteland, the damn savages now think they're entitled to everything we keep safely away from them."

"Just as many feared would happen." Plasma said in agreement, then she grimaced. "But if we had helped exterminate the raiders in the first place, this would have never happened."

"Raiders are just savages showing their true colors scribe Plasma. Going out and wasting our precious resources on exterminating every little raider den will not change a thing." Cobbler said coldly, and glanced back at my friend. "It seems the savages have affected your mind, something you'll need to correct if you're ever to return to the rangers."

Plasma looked angry for a moment, but then her gaze turned to the ground, as though she was a guilty foal.

So I stepped up. "Sir, with all do respect, while you have been safe within this bunker, or protected by those rangers, Plasma has been surviving on her own. It's easy for you to dismiss my friend's feelings on the matter, but that doesn't make her any less right on that. If the raiders were not allowed to grow in the numbers they had, all this shit would not have happened and so many wouldn't have needed to suffer."

Cobbler opened his mouth to argue, but I had more to say. "And those precious resources you covet. I didn't have any of that, and still managed to kill off the greater horde of the raiders. You would be fucking drowning in raiders right now if not for what my team did to stop them. So don't look down on my friend for wanting to solve a problem that is currently your fucking problem, as you can see."

The two power armor ponies chuckled, getting a dirty glare from the scribe. "This wouldn't be our problem if the elder wasn't making it our problem." He huffed out.

Trotting forward, the crowd parted way to make room for us, the dirty and desperate ponies eyeing us. Strangely, something felt off, as though the eyes of predators were on me, waiting for their opportunity to pounce. My eyes darted about, trying to find what was giving me that feeling, only catching a glimpse; a smile of yellow teeth, a lick of the lips, and determined glares of mischief. But there were too many ponies, they all just blended together in a dirty, dusty, crowd.

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Entering inside the bunker was like entering an all new world. Less dry and much cooler, with everything lit up in lights that bothered my eyes. Everything here was made of metal or concrete; the walls, the furniture, and even the ponies. Aside from my team and a few scribes, everything had a cold hard feeling to it.

Waiting for us was a power armored stallion, who thankfully had his helmet off, showing off an impressive pony shoe mustache. "I got word you showed up. The… Elder, is waiting for you." He spoke with a deep and rather tantalizing voice, of which required me to sip my canteen.

Strangely he also mentioned the elder with an unsure tone, though lacking the same disdain as Cobbler had.

"Then let's not waste any time, as time is currently not on our side." I said to the Ranger.

The Ranger smiled. "Straight to the mission, I like that. Ad Victoriam." He the turned and trotted down the hall, with us following closely.

It was a bit strange as I viewed the Rangers busy with one thing or another. Some were training, others were cleaning their weapons or armor, though most were moving things around or standing guard. As cramped and cold as this place was, it also felt… safe here.

"Is this how it was when you were with the Rangers, Plasma?" Spell asked.

She nodded. "Yes, there's bunkers all over Equestria, in which the Steel Ranger use. Though over the last hundred years many of those bunkers have become… unlivable."

"Sad but true." The mustached stallion said. "I'm Star Paladin Radish Crostini by the way. But as the young miss says, the bunkers we call home are dwindling in numbers. The unfortunate result of only having spare parts to hold back the ravages of time, and the occasional enemy, eventually you start to run out of spare parts."

Again, Cobbler huffed. "It is considerably unwise to reveal our secrets to outsiders."

"And keep ourselves insulated and isolated. How did that help Elder Cottage Cheese or the other elders that self-destruct, taking their chapters down with them. Even now we're still getting reports of chapters ruined by infighting, or from starting fights with wastelanders. And survivors calling in seeking shelter are still coming." Radish Crostini told the senior scribe, before glancing back at Plasma. "Along with lost rangers being found."

"Fools, the lot of them. Wasting lives and resources needlessly like that." Cobbler added.

Radish Crostini grunted in annoyance. "Better it happens now when we still have friends then later when the wasteland itself becomes our enemy, and we have only but rocks to defend ourselves with."

"Spoken like a pony blinded fear and misplaced altruism." Cobbler said mockingly.

"Better than a self righteous pony who hides behind the codex to cover their willful ignorance." Radish said with disdain.

Before they could continue their argument, the two rangers stopped before a door, guarded by two ponies in decorated power armor. They both had strange looking guns that looked more like spears on a box.

Cold Trails whistled, looking quite impressed at the guns. "Are those Windchester industrial plasma casters. Those are rare even in the Enclave. I bet you can cook anything that comes down this hallway with those."

"I'm sure that's the point." Spell commented.

"Well passed here is not only the elder's chamber, but also the vault containing many sensitive artifacts. We take the protection of it all very seriously." Cobbler informed us. "Now the… Elder, is passed these doors, so you better be on your best behavior. Or at least what you think is your best behavior."

The doors opened up with the sound of pistons releasing air, along with semi rusted metal scraping on more semi rusted metal. Like everything here, though well maintained, the subtle traces of the ravages of time can be seen, heard, and felt.

Trotting inside, we came to a round table that had a soft blue light, in which translucent symbols moved around on it, some blue some red. Around the table were several old ponies, some in red robes, others in power armor. But one Ranger, who was on the opposite side of the table, was in a blue robe, and looked significantly younger than the others.

Actually she only looked a bit older than myself.

Radish cleared his throat before introducing us. "Elder Honeycrisp, these are the delegation from Ursa's Rest, and one of which is of our own."

"From Spritz Cookies company to be exact" Cobbler added.

The mare in the blue robe sighed, looking considerably annoyed. "I heard about the carnage that is Spritz Cookies company. Even if her Rangers stay loyal to the old codex, I have no doubt she will drive them to rebellion nonetheless." She then eyes us, looking at Plasma a bit longer. "I was informed about all your names, so no need to introduce yourselves. I'm Elder Honeycrisp Apple. And no need to explain what likely happened under Star Paladin Spritz Cookie, I can easily imagine, since I squired under her. The bitch loves pushing ponies past their limits, and punishes any failure severely."

Plasma nodded. "Yes, that sounds like the Star Paladin. But may I ask, how is it that a pony as young as you is Elder? Shouldn't a pony like Cobbler or Radish be filling in that position?"

"An understandable question," Elder Honeycrisp said clearly and calmly, as though expecting the question. "You can say that I'm here instead of them because of one of many flaws in our codex. Once these flaws have been fixed, and the Applejack Rangers know where we'll be standing in this new world, I'll be stepping down. As for why me, it's simple really, I'm the direct descendant of Lieutenant General Apple Flora, of the Equestria Military Steel Rangers."

Plasma's eyes opened wide in shock. "Th.. the Lieutenant General! Oh my!"

Elder Honeycrisp face hoofed. "As expected. Blood should not come before steel, yet all of you so easily forget that."

Plasma lowered her head. "S… sorry."

Feeling a bit lost, I need answers. "Care to explain to the ignorant me?"

Surprisingly, Plasma was the one to explain, and with pride. "Lieutenant General Apple Flora was the one who kept the Steel Ranger together after the fall of Equestria. She was the one who wrote the codex, and was the first elder. Without Lieutenant General Apple Flora the Steel Rangers would not be what they are today."

"And this reverence to her is why the rangers are now divided." Elder Honeycrisp said.

"Careful Elder." Cobbler spoke up. "Even if you… and the Applejack Rangers are rewriting what does not need to be changed. Even they wouldn't tolerate slandering the Lieutenant General name. Decedent or not."

"Senior Scribe Cobbler, may I remind you that we tolerate your presence only because we respect your knowledge and dedication. But we do have plenty of scribes who can take your place if needed." The Elder said coldly, then turned to me and further explained. "The issue isn't that my ancestor was wrong or misguided, but that the codex was written during a time when any kind of compromise would amount to suicide for the Rangers."

She then pressed a button on the table, which then made an image of a mare in power armor standing on a cliff that overlooked a smoldering city. Next to the mare was another mare in pegasus power armor, it was hard to tell due to the image being just shades of blue, but the pegasus looked like she had a rainbow mane. Honeycrisp then continued. "Apple Flora was overseas when the bombs dropped, and found herself the ranking officer, a all the other generals were either assassinated by Zebra agents, or were burnt in baelfire. So with all communications with Equestria lost, she chose to rally the Steel Ranger and returned home, choosing the protection of Equestria over revenge. But when she returned to Equestria, she found it ripping itself apparent. What had survived was being besieged by ponies gone mad, and the remnants of the military desperately trying to keep their weapons out of the hooves of these… raiders."

Then, the realization of who the other mare was hit me like a sky wagon. "That's Rainbow Dash! We found a recording from her under the Elysium Memorial site, where she mentions doing just that."

Elder Honeycrisp nodded. "Yes, Apple Flora had mentioned her a few times in her journal. She even attempted to make the Ministry mare the first Elder, but Rainbow Dash chose to simply disappear. My ancestor suspected that the ministry mare blamed herself for what happened, and didn't want the power."

"Wait," Spell Circuit spoke up. "I remember now, Pentagram Naysayer, my ancestor, mentioned an Apple Flora. She helped him find the students of Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns."

The elder scratched her chin for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. "Yes, they became the first scribes, he was also invited to join, but like Rainbow Dash, he too vanished. Good to hear he survived."

"You might not be saying that after what we have to tell you." Spell said in a depressed tone. "The pony behind all that is happening now, he happens to be his descendent, and my brother. Worse, he plans to use an arcano-tech device Pentagram invented to mind control the entire wasteland. It's why we are here."

The Rangers other rangers began whispering amongst themselves before Honeycrisp asked, "so, what your saying is that this is no mere warlord rising up?"

"Far worse than that, Elder." I spoke up. "I've personally experienced it myself. The device, the Mezmetron, it strips you of your own will, making you unable to think properly. It's like a nightmare you cannot wake up from. Tripwire Naysayer is currently perfecting its magic, and plans on making more of them. He already found a way to send a weaker version of the spell through a signal. If not stopped, he will eventually complete it, and I doubt we will be able to stop him."

"I see." Elder Honeycrisp said calmly. "If this is true, then we have much to discuss."

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