Chapter 1 - Gulchstuck
"Come on! Gimme your best shot you overgrown radmole!" I shouted, holding an elegant-looking sword in my mouth. My eyebrows furrowed intensely as I stared down the largest sand maulwurf i've ever seen, a growing sandstorm surrounding us. It had to be at least the size of two hellhounds, with claws sharp as knives and teeth like giant stakes.
"Oh, Rhapsody, save us!" Cried a mare behind me, accompanied by several others - who, of course, were comprised of the most beautiful mares in the gulch.
"Don't worry." I smugly remarked, putting on my awesome shades. "This thing is about to be... Mauled." I could hear a Roc screech in the background, its shrill cry signaling that I needed to do something awesome. As the maulwurf finally charged, I leapt up into the air, slicing it in half with a single blow! A distant explosion was heard, probably out of respect for my awesomeness.
"Rhapsody! Oh, Rhapsody! You're our hero!" Cried my personal harem, as I awesomely landed behind the maulwurf's now-dead body, blood spewing everywhere in an epic display.
"I know. I'm just that cool." I said, the sandstorm blowing away from the sheer force of my blade skills.
"Rhapsody! Rhapsody! Rhapsody!" They chanted, though, they were slowly becoming more and more... Masculine? And old. Their faces shifted from the hottest females in the palomino to a single, decrepit stallion.
"RHAPSODY!"
RHAPSODY
S - [4]
P - [6]
E - [7]
C - [5]
I - [4]
A - [7]
L - [3]
"RHAPSODY!" Shouted an elderly pony next to my head, "Andale, Get your flank up already!"
I awoke with a startled yell, quickly scrambling onto my hooves. "Gah! Can't you ponies wake me up in a way that doesn't involve shouting right into my ear?!" I barked, holding an assortment of blankets around my body like a disheveled poncho.
Unfortunately, my life never got to be as awesome as the dream I'd just had. Instead of fighting off giant monsters surrounded by a dangerous sandstorm, the only thing I ever got to fight against were my grandparents' early wake-up calls. It was my eighteenth birthday in just a few weeks, and I'd amounted to... Nothing, really. My flank was bare as the desert around us, not like I'd even know what that looked like - I'm basically chained to this place by these overprotective geezers.
"I've been trying," said Gramps, hobbling out of my hole's entrance with a disgruntled snort. "Breakfast's cooking, niño. Get up and get ready."
I rolled my eyes, gradually setting the blankets back down onto my uncomfortable bedroll. It felt like sleeping on a rock most nights, but it was better than sleeping on the ground where I'd get even more dirt in my mane. Looking around my "room", I took note of the cracks that were forming in the ceiling. That's what you get when you live in a cave on the side of an even bigger crack in the desert, I guess. It definitely didn't help when the residents above were always stomping around, knocking sand on my face and blankets.
"I'll be out in a minute!" I sleepily groaned, rubbing my eyes and stepping in front of a very decrepit-looking mirror that rested in the corner of my room. I tried my absolute hardest to look my best every morning so that maybe I'd get the chance of wooing a pretty merchant mare from the greener parts of Equestria. Atleast, I'm told they're green.
"Okay, hotshot," I said to myself, slicking my clay-toned mane back. It was pretty long and messier than your average prim-and-prissy merchant, but it wasn't like I had easy access to a shower. Nopony in this sandtrap did. "You're gonna get out there and make some noise today. Huah!" I flexed my foreleg as hard as I could, some semblance of muscle rippling through my fur. It wasn't much, but it made me feel nice for some reason.
My already earthy-colored coat was dirtied by muck and, of course, sand, but it didn't bother me. As long as it didn't mess up my mane too much, I didn't mind it. It was kind of like my war paint in a way, something to tell everypony "I'm still standing! I'm small and dirty, but I'm a fighter!", even if it gave them even more ammunition to berate me with. You'd think being a blank flank rapidly nearing adulthood and having dead parents is bad enough, but no - ponies will find every reason they can to put me into the ground. I'm surprised I didn't get my cutie mark in being a punching bag! I can already see it, a mini-caricature of myself getting thrown around like a radalope in a game of hoofbunny.
Self-deprecation aside, I shoved those thoughts somewhere else and took a deep breath. Today was going to be a new day, and I was going to do what I did best. I might not be the strongest, the most agile, or the most good looking, or... Alright, I wasn't really much of anything, but I had a strong work ethic! After all, that's why I was placed chief janitor of the Altonimbus, the HEADQUARTERS of the Expeditionary Force. Well, no. I was the only janitor, but I was good at what I did - and if I was the only one, that meant I was the chief.
Feeling content with my appearance, I turned away from the mirror and gave a momentary scornful glance towards the glorified technologically-advanced paperweight on my ramshackle wooden desk, also known as a "Pipbuck". I never had any use for it after I was practically barred forever from joining the force by my grandparents.
"Rhapsody!" Gramps' voice called from the other room, sounding more impatient this time. "Vamonos, you're going to be late for work again!"
Snorting in response, I briskly trotted out into the kitchen-room filled with the lovely aroma of cacti and radalope. It wasn't exactly a "kitchen" like the ones I'd seen in magazines, rather, a pot or a skewer over an open fire that was surrounded by some darker-looking rocks. Next to it were hoof-crafted clay pots filled with assorted grains or water, matching the dirty tones of the rest of the cave.
I saw Granny crouched over the fire, slowly turning a skewer over the flame. Just as my nose suspected, over it was ripe Palomino agave with some seasoned meat on the side.
"La comida está casi lista. Hurry up! Vamos, vamos." She said, beckoning me closer with a hoof while keeping her pinpoint glare on the food.
Before the original settlers came, the ponies that inhabited the gulch were descendants of stable dwellers, who were descendants of Palomino and mainland Equestrian nobles. I don't really know what they did or how they got into a stable, but by the end of their stay, they spoke a mix of both languages. My mom was a native to this place, so her parents spoke the language fluently. My dad, on the other hoof, always had trouble understanding.
"Seré rápido, Abuela, I'm doing my best!" I replied, trotting over towards her while she began to place the skewers on pieces of cloth for Gramps and I. Granny hated speaking Equish, she always thought that the gulch would lose its traditions if more ponies started speaking it over the more traditional Palomino dialect. Gramps, on the other hand, didn't care as much.
Looking to one of the windows outside, I saw a crack of sunlight peek through the top of the gulch's mouth. I was going to REALLY be late if I was any slower! Breakfast would have to wait until later. "Sorry, gotta go! ¡Hablo contigo más tarde!" I exclaimed before trotting through the door adjacent to the room.
"¡¿Para qué hice toda esta comida?!" I could hear Granny yell at me, displeased with my decision to skip out on breakfast, but she'd have to wait. If I wanted to have any chance at all to even POSSIBLY be considered for the expeditionary force scouting team, I'd have to get in good cahoots with Captain Trotter, which means I have to be on time, on the dot, on the floor, every day. Regardless of the fact that I hadn't succeeded in a single try-out for the past four years, I wasn't about to give up.
I felt the sun hit my face as I stepped outside, immediately getting smacked by a drier-than-dry heat. I'd gotten used to it, but most foreign merchants that came here always complained that it felt like they were sitting in a boiling cauldron. Thankfully, most of the sun's glare was kept out by the gulch's upper lip - an outwards protrusion of rock that nearly covered the whole crack in some parts of it. Other parts like the crash of the Altonimbus, however, weren't so lucky.
The other side of the rocky crevice was filled with other caves and small dwellings just like mine, each with ponies inside, living their lives. Their boring, dull lives. Not like me, though - I was more or less a fully-fledged member of the coolest ponies in the desert! I broke out into a sprint towards the broken airship, hopping up, over, and around various constructs that'd been built on the walls - connected by ladders and tunnels. I took a moment to look down towards the bottom of the gulch, both sides sloping down into a "v" shape. It was nothing short of an earthpony miracle that anyone managed to build here.
After maneuvering my way through the sandy corridors and dwellings, I made it into the market bazaar, right outside the crash of the Altonimbus and a place where all the merchants that come through stay to barter their wares to us. The Palomino-native merchants often brought humpbacks as their pack animals - tall, dull creatures with two large "humps" on their backs. Humpbacks came in all kinds of colors, just like ponies, but there was practically nothing behind those dull, unthinking eyes of theirs. Sometimes, though? It was as if they understood whenever ponies were talking about them. Creepy!
Shuddering at the thought, I found myself having to squeeze through chattering ponies just as I did through the rocks. It looked like the NCR and their odd-looking caravan brahmin were here too, which meant they had plenty of caps to spend and lots of goodies to buy. Everypony tended to gather when they showed up, to my displeasure.
"'Scuse me! Coming through! Trotting along, here!" I vocalized over the crowd, slipping past a menagerie of unwashed flanks. I barely noticed the smell anymore, thankfully. Trotting up to the entrance of the wreck, I stopped in the crowd to look up at the brilliant scrap-metal sign that hung above the fallen raptor's starboard entrance.
EXPEDITIONARY FORCE - SAVING LIVES FROM PRYING EYES
Painted on with a red dye, it was a brilliant display of their ruggedness and adaptability. Or, at least, that was how I thought of it. Most of the ponies around me weren't outside-the-box enough to think about it as in-depth as that. It was so hard being seventeen years old and the smartest pony in the gulch at the same time!
My moment of intellectual and philosophical thought was interrupted by a rude shout from my rear.
"Hey, colt!" A butch mare's voice shouted, "Keep it moving, tiny! You're holding up the crowd flow!"
Turning around, a little embarrassed to be pointed out like this, I found that the offender was one of the ponies from the NCR's caravan: a stout, muscular-looking earthpony mare with a dirty red beret and sunglasses on her head, auburn mane tied in a neat bun. Her fur was as yellow as a flare wasp, and frankly, she looked as if she could sting like one too. Flanked by two armed griffons sporting similar uniforms on either side of her, she impatiently waved me off as if I were a simple commoner!
Ugh. Sometimes I wish that we never had to endure their presence. Part of me hoped that someday we could go back to how things used to be: isolated, happy, and free of their meddling. I even heard whispers from Abuela and Abuelo that they were pressuring Chief Bighoof to allow them to set up an embassy nearby! Scrunching up my muzzle and sticking my tongue out at the mare to blow a raspberry, I turned my head and trotted into the Altonimbus.
Immediately, a rush of cool air hit me as I brushed past the warm, metal doors - a product of the still-active atmospheric control talismans within the ship. I always hated it. The warmth of the gulch was something I was used to, but the pegasi who crash-landed here ten years ago were acclimated to a much colder environment. Something about it being colder in the sky, I could barely remember all that boring stuff Captain Trotter rambled on about.
Inside the ship, ponies idly chatted with one another, recovering from an expedition or preparing to embark. My eyes sparkled in awe while I watched them sit there, they were the coolest! But, I had a job to do. Grabbing a broom, I got to work on the dirty floor, sweeping the sand and muck that came through into a neat pile.
Plenty of idle conversations went on inside the room, all of which I tended to eavesdrop into.
"They've been spotted this far south, I wouldn't be surprised if they were practically on our doorstep within the week. Trotter needs to get his muzzle out of his flank and do something already, if not convince Bighoof to quit sitting on the fence about that NCR deal." I heard somepony say, almost annoyed in tone.
"They wouldn't dare march this far down, no chance. It's supposed to be one of the hottest summers we've had in years, they'll all cook! Just relax, Jumper, you're being paranoid." Somepony else replied, teasing.
I sighed. None of these conversations were juicy OR explorer-y. I dully awaited the day I got to hear about somepony fight off a bloodthirsty pack of dune hounds, or take out an entire horde of husks. Focusing my eyes on the dirty floor, I tuned the rest of the voices out and went into my own imagination.
It was gonna be another long, boring day.
Completed: Get to work!
Started: Clean the Altonimbus!
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Awww... But I made radroach taquitos and horchata
11441155
Taquitos?!
... Alright, you can be forgiven. Don't forget those taq's, though.
Humpback, a good word for camels of questionable intelligence. And I see that Rhapsody is a less charming Windstriker, with no wings or stripes I have to assume.
And he's wrong, that is a very relevant and tense discussion towards the end. Must say that I am very interested in what the NCR is doing in these parts and how they operate.
All in all, plenty of interesting tidbits to keep the reader engaged, even as our young narrator is oblibious to the world around him.