//------------------------------//
// Prologue 
// Story: The Legend of Apple Jack 
// by Cutiemarkcrusader 
//------------------------------//

	Long ago in a time unlike any other known to ponies, there was a small two-horse town found in the center of the wild west. It was small and crowded, but it still managed to keep with it a rustic charm. You were welcome to stay the night in the wooden tavern that overlooked the sheriff's station and stood right next to the train station. The train wouldn't dare let out a single cry of its horn until the sun had risen back in those days. But even then you'd get the smallest amount of sleep what with the howling of the timberwolves and the shrill cries of the midnight wind.

There was no movie theater or café in that town yet. The only thing closest to entertainment was to gamble your wits at the card games being held at the ole' Salt Block Saloon. If you had too much salt, the bartender would've kicked you out in a heartbeat give or take a second chance. Back then, things weren't so...noisy. There were no flashy automobiles, loud rap music that hurt your ears, or any wailing police sirens going off in three in the morning. No. It was quiet with the exception of the stampeding grounds that are still to this day located only a few miles away from the train station, over the hills, by the apple orchards.

The townspeople were happy ponies that'd rather keep their mouth shut than ruin somepony's great morning. They weren't too shy or too loud. Everything was just right in this dusty paradise. And this town's name was called Appleoosa.

Now, what you may not know about Appleoosa is the story behind the stampeding grounds right behind the heart of this now blossoming city. Back in the day there was a pony named Braebur-

"Moooom" the sound of a young colt's voice cut through the air, "You've told us this one already."

Two small earth ponies were cuddled up in their twin beds in their small, but cozy bedroom. Across from their beds sat a pale yellow pony. Her light green hair had been put up in a messy ponytail for the night and she was wearing her favorite purple bathrobe. Her son and daughter looked up at her expectantly, hoping she would realize her careless mistake and start a new story from scratch. But unfortunately, their mother was just as stubborn as them.

"No I didn't" his mom smirked from her place on her stool, "Now you rest your head on that pillow and listen. So, this pony's name was-

Her daughter interrupted, "But, mommy, you told us this story last week. We know it already."

"Oh really? Then how does it go?"

The filly drew in a small breath before launching into her own little summary of her mother's tale, "Well, there was this pony named Braeburn who set up Appleoosa with a dozen or so other ponies. What they didn't know was that they had set it up on a bunch of bison's stampeding grounds. There was this huge fight between the ponies and the bison because the ponies had set up the town already and were refusing to move. It took just six ponies to stop the fighting and to help start a peaceful pact. And they were nicknamed the Mane Six. The End."

Both the siblings could hear the sound of crickets in the distance as their mother stared down at them both. She blinked a few times before clearing her throat.

"Alright then..." she scratched at her hair, "Well, shoot, let me think for a second…did I tell you the one about the griffins?"

"Yeah," both of her children replied in unison, trying to hide their boredom.

"How about the one with Rainbow Dash and the sonic rainboom?"

"You told us that one last night," the colt whined.

Pretty soon their mom was rattling off stories at random, "The one about Mare-do-well? The time your grandfather met the princesses? Did I even tell you about the pony games coming to Appleoosa?"

But with each suggestion she pulled out of her head, both of the foals nodded together. Their mother went quiet for a few seconds and then her eyes lit up as though she had found a pile of gems. She grinned slyly, "Did I ever tell you the story about…the sheriff?"

"Sheriff Silverstar?" the small filly asked with mild uncertainty, "I'm pretty sure you did."

"Nope," their mom beamed, "I meant the story about the first mare sheriff."

Her son lifted up both of his ears as he sat up, "No, I don't think you ever did."

"I wanna hear," his sister chimed after him.

"Are you sure? It's a bit of a long story," their mother teased with a twinkle in her eye.

"Yes, please, please, please!"

"Alright," she adjusted her position on the stool happily, "Where to start…ah, I know. You've heard of Sheriff Silverstar of course, the very first sheriff in these here parts. Well, not many people know about the very first mare sheriff that took his place anymore. But when I was your age, everypony knew the story by heart. And I knew it especially because your own grandmother had been there. She was the very first to tell me. And now I'm going to be the first to tell you two."

She smiled as her children jittered with excitement. She took a small pause before launching back into the story.

"Well, it all took place during the time of the Dustbowl. Your grandmother lived in Ponyville at the time. She worked at the local bookstore, but was itching to see more of Equestria. One day, she just up and left Ponyville for the city of Applewood. Now, she wouldn't tell me what happened, but she said that she had only been planning to stay there for a week. Instead, she just stayed for two days and then she moved to Appleoosa. As to why, I'm not sure. But I won't question it too much because if she hadn't we wouldn't be here."

"That's where she met Grandpa, right?" the filly called out from her place in bed.

"That's right," their mom nodded, "But that isn't the part of the story I'm telling you. A few months after she met my father, she actually met her. Back then; this mare was given a nickname. She was called: 'The Orange Crusader', 'Mare-do-Weller', and also, 'La Vaquera'. She was the one who vanquished the mighty masked rattlesnake with just her two hooves. She knocked out two bandits with her eyes closed. But most importantly, she was the one who took out the ones they called the Young Guns. They were ruthless, murderous bandits looking for nothing but trouble. If it weren't for her, Appleoosa wouldn't be such a thriving city. I would still be that rustic, two-horse town and I would have probably left to another city and never have met your father."

"So, we wouldn't be…alive if it weren't for her?" the colt asked, awestruck already.

"What was her name?" the filly asked softly.

"Her name was Apple Jack. And this is the story of her legacy…"