Fallout Equestria: Taking Life By The Horns

by Pokonic

Ranger Danger

It said something about how shallow my life is that the worst thing that could happen to me was not my father treating me like crap or being forced to leave the only place I have ever lived in, but to know that a little blue pony would be traveling with me.

Steel Ranger? That explains a lot, actually. She was probably too crazy for those crazies to stand. It also said something about Discord and his ability to grant wishes. Why did we worship him, again? I heard something about a “twisted form” and “mythical origins”, but you could say the same for griffons, and arguably ponies. Freaky little things with too-large heads and stubby limbs. How do they hold things without thumbs, anyway?

But I was getting ahead of myself, as one other in the room could see.

The Elder snapped me out of my internal conversation, literally in this case. The sound of fingers sliding against each other broke me out of my half-daze, and caused me to take a glance at the too-happy pony off to my side.

“Now, Blueberry and I have an agreement, in which getting you to the relative safety of Tauronto is just one part of.”

Oh, joy, there was a plan. What could possibly cause it to go wrong?

Oh, wait, it just started talking.

“The first part, Watchful, is simple. We need to get to Bearmont, a town near the city proper, and start up the local radio tower. This should be easy enough, because there’s nothing between it and here except for some hills.”

I nodded my head. This might not be so bad after all.

“The next part is also very simple. When we get inside the city, I need to talk with a member of a group known as the Watchers.”

The who? They sound nice.

“The next part will be...harder. Tauronto is known for its internal factions, and I need to speak to the leader of one of them in the Caladonian National Tower. He does not know I am coming.”

Into the fire, why don’t you?! Now’s the time to tell me that the place is a deathtrap. Oh joy. Wait, is that grey old bull actually smiling at.... curse everything alive!

“And finally, I need to go to the Crystal Empire.”

It sounded....colorful. And sharp, for that matter.

Seeing, my expression, she nodded sympathetically.

“Don’t worry, your going to learn about it soon enough. This is not my first trip north, either, so I can show you the ropes in the city. We can talk about it on our trip there, and it’s a week away, so we have plenty of time.”

Yeah, and about the fact you threatened my life, are apparently a Steel Ranger, and did I mention the “threatening my life” part? Oh no, little mare, this was not over.

In an attempt to get my mind off the horror that was going to be the next few weeks, I turned to the Elder.

“Sir, I must ask, what is the benefit for me or you in helping...Blueberry?”

Frowning slightly, he replied in a tone that was softer than the one he was using before.

“Watchful, I am disappointed that your thoughts are revolving around what you can gain out of the situation at hand. I would have you know that the reactivation of the radio broadcast is reward enough, and there is much to be gained in helping the largest settlement in the region.”

He took a glance at Blueberry, who he just gave a tiny, knowing smile.

“Also, I gave Blueberry all the information she would need to access the areas she wishes to explore in exchange for a moderate amount of the salvage and caps she brings with her. Your job, in essence, is to guard her and keep her alive as she travels in the city, and to make sure she holds her end of the bargen, and in return you get a safe place to live.”

Ah, so it’s a daring quest to a deathtrap in order to get fancy salvage and deal with sociopaths, and I get...to be an unpaid bodyguard until told otherwise. Oh, what fun.

“And as such, I suggest that you two leave before the hunters arrive. Your father has no mercy, Watchful, and I have a reputation to uphold.”

Blueberry gave a little surprised gasp at that. Oh, now she puts two and two together. How much was she told, anyway! Never less, I suppose parting words were in order with the bull who took this much time and effort to let me survive, even after a failure like what happened earlier.

“Elder, I must thank you.”

The old bull just gave one of the golden smiles he was known for, partly because of his teeth being made of gold but also because of the wisdom that was said to be contained behind them. But it was mostly the gold.

“No need to thank me, young one. However,”

His tone actually grew grim, something that frightened me slightly.

“Remember to keep your friends close in the wasteland, and work with what you have.”

Oh. Well, that was...something. Sounded nice.

I just nodded, as Blueberry was loading a familiar grey bag full of spare scrap near the door. Ignoring the obvious question, I gave a respectful bow to the Elder, who just gave a little chuckle. After a few moments at staring at Blueberry scavenge the poor bull to poverty, she was ready to go, baggage packed to near bursting and somehow resting on her back without tipping over.

And so, after a few more moments of chatter, waving goodbye, and other such things, I began the rest of my life as an exile as I stepped outside the barn.

Which was shorter than I thought it would be, because I blacked out after something heavy slammed into the back of my head.

---

It took a while to realize I was awake, and not being tormented by tiny blue imps in the icy depths of Tartarus, freezing winds and all. Unfortunately, I realized that Tartarus might have been preferable to the wasteland. Less clouds.

The sky looks even more depressing when you have nothing else to look at. Normally, during the day, you could lie to yourself and say it looks decent, but looking at it directly you know for a fact it does not look good no matter you put it.

Just from the sounds and movements around me, I was on a...cart? Wagon? Something large, flat, and wooden and I was bound to it by a set of, after carefully attempting to move them, very heavy binds on each limb. Surrounding me was what I knew to be the stacked supplies the Elder gave out for the trip, and going by the soft groaning sounds coming from what might be the front of the cart, the baggage the Elder sent with me was here as well.

I almost felt sorry for the brat, but she helped me get kicked out of my home and threatened me with a laser pistol. She can survive a few more hours of trotting away, and I do need to rest.

---

Crap. Does it make me a bad person to not feel anything about being exiled from the only home I had ever known? Should I be feeling...something? Regret? Shame?

---

Then again, what is there for me? No one really talks to each other unless there telling each other something. Well, no, the cows do talk to each other all the time and the sheep and goats would talk the day away unless you whip them into work, but the bulls never made friends, per say. I think that’s the word. I mean, yes, of course one made friends in the compound, but not ‘friend’ friends. Then again, I suppose in hindsight, young bulls were always taught differently than the cows. Even when we were young, I suppose, the bulls were separated into smaller social groups than the cows, and there was always a bigger pressure to make yourself seem better than your peers for bulls.

Perhaps that’s why I liked Brass. She could always carry a conversation, and made the first years of guarding go by faster. Copper could, too, but there were always jokes about how he liked watching the bulls work out.

Of course, the punishment for a proven relationship along that lines is castration, but I buried that deeper into my mind. Let’s focus on the positive, now.

---

Does anyone in the wasteland know how to make pork chops? Or cheese, for that matter?

---

I wonder how Steel Rangers grow up. The last time I heard the name ‘Fillydelphia’, it was about a pony and some griffons getting an army together and cleaning out the place of feral ghouls and tainted creatures. If she came from Filly, then there would probably not be much of a chapter left for her to come back too.

---

Speaking of Rangers, I haven’t heard of unicorns in there numbers, just regular ponies, so she might be lying about that, too. Then again, she could use magic, and was probably too small to fit in power armor....what did she call herself, a ‘Senior Scribe’? She was probably just a magic specialist, or some-

-why is the cart floating up? Also, why was everything light purple?

“Wakey wakey, Ever Watchful. Stop admiring the sky and get off the cart, it’s your turn.” Oh, the dreaded sing-song, the sign of a upset female. Known by all species and races, it forshadows doom for all.

I turned to my right, and then my left, noticing the distinct lack of binds. She can make magical chains, too? Oh, this is just perfect. Why does she need me again? For amusement?

I leaned forward, and slowly hauled myself off the cart. Luckily, the blue brat only had it hovering a foot off the ground, or else I might have hurt myself. Grumbling, I say the first thing on my mind.

“What the hell did you do to me, little mare!”

...It sounded less cliché in my head.

Blueberry just grinned as she jumped on the cart. “Wasn’t me that time. The old one and I agreed that if you did not go with the plan quick enough, he would knock you out and get you on the cart. Basically, it was to make sure that you would not try and get away from me after we left.”

That old bastard.

“Also, I put a sleeping spell on you. Have any good dreams the past three days?” the little mare said. chipper and cheerful.

Are you kidding me! Is my life a cosmic game, played by some horrible monsters who only want to see me suffer!

…..Maybe the zebras were right. I, on that somber note, got into position and started to pull on the two wooden poles that served as the closest things to handles on the cart. How did the little mare pull this! Unicorns are not supposed to be this powerful!

But then again, every journey begins with one step, like the one’s I started to take regardless of the pain on my shoulders. After a few minutes of quietly working up a rhythm with the carts movements, Blueberry spoke up.

“Anyway, I guess it’s as good as ever to tell you that we are an hour away from Bearmont, and that we are probably going to have to go through some resistance.”

I blinked. “Resistance?”

The little mare sighed. “Well, we are probably going to have to change routes, really.”

Now I was getting annoyed. “What for? I thought you had this all planned out?”

She grew quiet. Now I was getting really annoyed.

“Because the NCA are there.”

“The who?” To be fair, I had heard the name, but only in passing.

She stopped walking, and lowered her head a little.

“They are well armed ponies, nothing more.”

“What’s the problem, then?”

“They are at war.”

“With what?”

She grew even quieter, to the point I could hardly hear her over the sound of the cart crunching the frozen ground under it's wheels.

“Minotaurs and Steel Rangers.”

Oh, well, fuck this place sooo hard.

Comments

[Prince_Staghorn]

And we're off!
Yes we're off!
Off to the Crystal Empire! (after a few stops!)
and it's cold!
Super cold!
and don't forget the Slavers!
the Crystal Empire Slavers!
We'll be caught, and we'll...

Shut Up! Now, do you have the directions? because we're... lost.

And we're lost!
Oh so lost!
and we can't feel our fingers!
No we can't feel our fingers!

I SAID SHUT UP!!!

[Oubliette]

I just got FONV. Then I read this. All the while I'm listening to London Calling by the Clash, a song about nuclear war.

[Oubliette]

Hell, my fallout character is named Calamity.