War. War never changes.

For as long as sapient creatures have existed, they've banded together in groups to survive, forming ever-larger organizations to foster mutual survival. And that same communal instinct that allowed them to work together also magnified individual disputes, along with the bloodshed they brought. From the time of the first zebra tribes and griffon clans' discovery of primitive instruments of death, conflict as been constant. Tribes, cities, and eventually entire countries would inevitably come into conflict, with warfare being the result.

The pony nation of Equestria spent most of its history thinking itself peaceful, but in the last days of the old world it proved to itself and all others that it had not only the capability to wage war, but a terrible propensity towards it. What began as a war over resources grew to engulf both Equestria and their Zebra enemies totally, with the fighting done as much on the homefront as it was on the battlefield. In the end, neither side won.

The destruction on the final day was unmatched by anything that had come before it, and when it was over in a matter of hours, entire civilizations lie in ruins. And yet, despite the worst its inhabitants could throw at each other, the world remained, and survivors on all sides soon emerged. Whether crawling from the immolated and irradiated remains of their homes, or emerging from specially-made Stables built to withstand just such a cataclysm, it became clear that life, though battered and often twisted, had survived. In the wake of such unbridled devastation those who remained might have banded together in a united front to ensure that such a thing could never be allowed to happen again - but war, war never changes.

For in the toxic wasteland that resulted, the remnants born of warfare and desolation repeat the the mistakes of their predecessors in hundreds of microcosms each day. Individuals and factions murder each other for scraps of food, beliefs held by nations centuries-dead, or for simple lawless bloodlust. The scars and misdeeds of the Pre-War world are tangible dangers in the form of magical radiation and leftover weapons, and even worse abuses of magic and technology.

The wasteland is a force as much as a place. A state of mind with an inertia all its own. Only those who stand in defiance of the wasteland, have any chance of defeating it.

This is the story of a certain few of them. For once upon a time, tucked in a corner of the blasted landscape, two ponies lived in a town...