Join the Storyteller as he explains the lore of the Equestrian Wasteland.
Buck Shot is just an ordinary scavenger pony, doing what he can to get by in the cruel and unforgiving Equestrian Wasteland. One day, while he was out scavenging, he meets a power armored pony who has a lot to say about the history and nuances of the Equestrian Wasteland... and like it or not, Buck Shot is going to listen to what he has to say.
The original Fallout: Equestria was created by Kkat The Storyteller is based on the character from The Fallout Lore Series by ShoddyCast
“No. No. No.” Buck Shot repeated as he continually chucked tin cans out of the crate that he was searching through. Buck Shot was a unicorn stallion, with a grey coat and a short, brown mane. His cutie mark was of a shotgun, which was slightly hidden underneath his barding. Buck was a scavenger, who carved out a living picking through the various ruins that dotted the Equestrian Wasteland, looking for anything valuable left behind, that ponies would be willing to pay caps for.
While he was out scavenging, he came across an Ironshod Firearms factory and decided to give it a look through, figuring there was probably something valuable there. Although from the looks of it, somepony else already had that idea long ago. Now there was nothing left but junk.
“Dammit!” He shouted, pulling out another empty Sparkle Cola bottle. “There’s nothing left,” he said, throwing the bottle over his shoulder, it smashing into pieces when it hit the ground. Looking back into the crate again for one last search, he was just about to give up when something caught his eye; three something’s, actually. At the very bottom of the crate of tin cans and empty bottles, were three full bottles of Sparkle Cola.
“Jackpot!” He exclaimed, pumping his hoof in the air, while he levitated the three bottles out, plus a couple of loose bottle caps that were at the very bottom of the crate. As he turned around to place his findings into his saddlebags, however, his eyes widened when he saw a Ponetron behind him, which had somehow managed to sneak up on him. A Ponetron was a large sentry bot in the shape of a pony, standing at least twice as tall as the unicorn stallion, but with two wheels at the front and back, instead of hooves. They were typically used by companies like this during the war to guard their factories. He should have expected something like this to be here, but figured that there wouldn’t still be one around after this place had already been scavenged so completely. It must have been alerted by the noise he made throwing all the useless junk around.
When the Ponetron suddenly unleashed a rapid fire laser burst from the horn on its head, Buck had just enough time to jump to the side to dodge it. “Shit!” He shouted, landing behind a stack of small metal boxes. Quickly reaching for his weapon, he levitated out his combat shotgun and carefully peaked out from behind his cover. When he had a clear shot, he pulled the trigger and fired on the Ponetron, though it didn’t seem to do much damage.
Ducking back behind cover again as the Ponetron fired off another laser burst, he then heard the lasers cut off and the sound of the Ponetron rolling towards him.
“Fuck!” He shouted out, quickly jumping away to avoid another attack. Looking over at the door to the factory, he quickly picked himself up and made a beeline for it, figuring that the sentry bot wouldn’t pursue him away from its station.
As he was running, however, another laser burst from the Ponetron struck his back leg, causing him to lose his balance and fall forward on his face. After hitting the ground hard, he tried to pick himself back up again and continue running towards the door, but his leg hurt too much to get back up. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the Ponetron approaching him, its horn red with heat, getting ready for another attack.
Since he couldn’t do anything else, he simply raised his shotgun once again and started taking pot shots at it, hoping that it would be enough to destroy it. However, all his effort amounted to nothing, as the Ponetron didn’t look like it was taking any damage at all.
When he had fired his final round, he knew that he wouldn’t have enough time to reload before the Ponetron finished him off, so he simply shut his eyes and prepared for the inevitable.
SHOOM!
He heard the sound of laser fire. However, he never felt the attack hitting him. Did it miss?
Opening his eyes to see for himself, they immediately widened when he saw the Ponetron standing right in front of him, in shut down mode, evident by the fact that its normally red eyes had blinked off like a light switch.
“W-what?” Buck Shot stuttered out, not believing what he was seeing. Did the Ponetron just randomly shut down or run out of power? If so, then he must have been the luckiest pony in the wasteland.
“Hey there,” he heard a voice from behind the inactive sentry bot. The voice sounded a bit muffled, like it was coming through visor. When the owner of the mysterious voice stepped into view, he realised why this was so – it was a pony in a suit of power armor.
Buck Shot had seen enough Steel Rangers patrolling the wasteland to recognise their power armor when he saw it. It was a big, bulky, silver carapace armor, which completely encased the pony within, with a slight whirring sound from the moving servos inside of it. He also noticed that the power armor’s helmet had a horn slot, indicating that the pony inside was a unicorn. Buck Shot found this strange, since he had never seen a unicorn in power armor before, which was odd, as power armor was originally designed with earth ponies in mind. There was also a laser rifle floating beside the armored pony, wrapped in a silver magical aura.
“You okay there, stranger?” The power armored pony asked. “You’re lucky that I arrived when I did. Ponetrons are a top of the line Ironshod sentry bot, and they can be very difficult to take down. There’s likely a reason why the ponies who scavenged here first left it alone. Fortunately, it uses up so much power while running that it produces a lot of heat, so it has to have a compartment on its back, where the spark battery is located, so that it can open up and cool down so that it doesn’t overheat. If you know just the right spot to shoot at it, however, then it tips like a brahmin.” He explained. When he reached Buck Shot, he gave him his hoof to help him stand up.
“…Thanks,” Buck said, eventually taking his hoof and standing back up. The burning sensation in his back hoof was now starting to die down. “I’m Buck Shot by the way.” He said, introducing himself.
“Name and rank withheld as per Steel Ranger regulations when dealing with outsiders.” The power armored pony responded, confirming to Buck that this pony was indeed a Steel Ranger. “Though, some folks call me ‘The Storyteller’.”
“The Storyteller?” Buck inquired, with an arched eyebrow.
“That’s right. I’ve travelled this wasteland for a long time and I’ve seen a good bit of it. In that time, I’ve learned quite a bit about this world and the different aspects that make it up. It’s a part of my duties as a Steel Ranger, to learn and document the many stories of the wasteland; one can never know too much. It’s like the old saying goes: ‘Those who don’t know history are doomed to repeat it’, and our history is definitely not one anypony wants to repeat.
“I also share many of these stories with ponies that I come across in my travels. That, combined with my lack of a given name, eventually caused ponies to start referring to me as ‘The Storyteller’.”
Buck Shot suddenly cracked a smile. “Yeah, I’ve noticed that you like to talk a lot.”
There was a short silence between them before the Storyteller continued. “Well, the wasteland is a big place and it takes a while to get around it. Walking is the only method available for most ponies, which takes a long time, and talking while you walk can be like a marching cadence; it helps keep your breathing regular.” He defended. “The deafening silence as you travel can also negatively affect your psyche, always worrying that someone or something is going to jump out and kill you, so constantly talking while you travel can do wonders for your mental state out here.”
Buck Shot didn’t think that anypony was capable of talking so much. Before he could say anything else, however, a pink spritebot suddenly floated out from behind the Storyteller and let out a mechanical shriek. This made the non-power armoured unicorn stallion take a step backwards. “What the Hell is that thing?” He wondered, levelling his shotgun at it.
“She,” the Storyteller corrected, “is a ‘Personal Intelligence Neo-Sprite Kombat Eyebot’, or PINK-E. She’s my partner, helping me to document my travels in the wasteland.” He then turned to face the spritebot. “Isn’t that right, PINK-E?”
PINK-E simply gave another mechanical whine.
Buck Shot simply nodded in understanding, putting his shotgun away, but he still gave PINK-E a weird look. “Well alright, but it still creeps me out.”
The Storyteller hesitated for a second before speaking. “That’s understandable. Spritebots were first commissioned by the Ministry of Morale to spread comforting thoughts and soothing music to the populace during the war. These days, however, most ponies associate them with the Slave King’s speeches, and that infernal Polka music so irritable that it makes you want to rip your own ears off as soon as it starts playing. However, there is one other story connected to the spritebots that not a lot of ponies are familiar with: The Tale of Watcher.”
“Watcher?” Buck inquired.
“That’s right,” the Storyteller continued. “Some ponies talk about when they were travelling the wasteland and happened upon a spritebot that suddenly started talking to them. It was obvious from the responses that it wasn’t a pre-recorded message, and when asked, would introduce themselves as Watcher.
“No one knows exactly who he is, though there are few theories. Some say that he’s a ghoul from the back-when times, who was directly involved with the war that killed just about everything there is. He survived that Final Day and became a ghoul, but was so ashamed of what he helped bring about, that he locked himself in a bunker somewhere and only communicates with others through the spritebots, helping in any way he can to try and make up for his sins.
“There are other theories though; like that it’s actually a rogue A.I. flittering between the spritebots, learning everything it can about the wasteland. Then there are the outright crazy theories, that it’s the ghost of Pinkie Pie inhabiting the spritebots, bringing cheerful music and cryptic advice to anyone she meets – but that’s just silly.”
This caused PINK-E to start buzzing.
“No, not you PINK-E. I was talking about another Pinkie.” The Storyteller assured her. When she seemed to calm down, he turned back to face Buck Shot.
“Still, regardless of which one it is, one can’t deny the mark that this ‘Watcher’ has left on the wasteland. Those who claim to have spoken with him on several occasions are remembered as the closest thing the wasteland has to heroes – champions of justice and the old world’s vision of a world where everypony treats each other with love and tolerance. Saving the good and innocent, while punishing the wicked.”
That caused to Buck Shot to crack a sarcastic smile. “Heh, heroes? They’re just a bunch o’ idealistic morons who think the world works like an old pony tail.” He scoffed.
The Storyteller seemed to consider that for a moment before responding. “You may be right about that, at least on some levels. While heroes are courageous and just, their stories more often than not don’t have a happy ending, usually dying in order to save others. Eventually, every hero falls. Inevitably, every hero falls.
“Maybe this Watcher is someone who chooses to see the best in everyone and help bring it out so that we don’t fall to the barbarity of the wasteland; or maybe he’s someone broken by the wasteland himself, who enjoys watching a hero fail in order to prove his own world view right.
“The first known contact with this individual was roughly fifty years after the Great War ended. A pony fresh out of one of the recently opened Stables was travelling the wasteland and happened upon a spritebot playing the aforementioned polka music. However, the music then suddenly stopped, and the spritebot approached them and started speaking.
“If the first theory, or one like it is correct, then Watcher must be remotely hacking the spritebots from far away. It would take some serious technology and brainpower to pull that off, further reinforcing the theory that he’s someone from during the war, perhaps even someone deeply connected with the Ministries.
“He talked about the dangers of the Equestrian Wasteland, having witnessed plenty of it himself, and the three things that everybody needs in order to survive it: a weapon, some armored barding, and most importantly, you need to make some friends.”
“Heh, friends?” Buck laughed, indignantly.
“Of course.” The Storyteller continued without missing a beat. “Friendship can be a powerful thing, or have you not heard the legends of the Elements of Harmony? Stories of friends and bonds between them keeping the forces of evil at bay. Sounds childish, I know. The thing is, it’s true; all of it.”
Buck Shot simply stared back at him, with a blank expression on his face.
“There is one other thing that Watcher says you need in order to survive in the wasteland,” the Storyteller continued, “and in my opinion, it’s probably the most important: you need to find your virtue.”
“Virtue?” Buck questioned.
“That’s right. Your virtue is that one thing about yourself that you never compromise; that as long as you have that, you can afford to look yourself in the mirror every day. Every pony, even the bad ones, has a virtue. It’s what separates them from the completely irredeemable raiders.
“Loyalty, kindness, honesty, generosity, laughter, and magic.” He listed off. “The Elements of Harmony of olde are just six examples of what a virtue can be, though they’re not the only ones. Sacrifice, perseverance, innocence, compassion, and hope are more examples of virtues. Almost anything can be a virtue, but knowing it isn’t as easy as you might think. Every pony has a virtue, even if they don’t know what it is yet, and learning what it is, is perhaps one of the most important lessons of a person’s life. Though even the noblest of virtues can become corrupted and twisted without the friendship that goes with it, and it can destroy a pony just as quickly as a bullet or laser fire.
“Reports of Watcher seeking out ponies has increased over the decades, and throughout Watcher’s many meetings with wastelanders, helping them to survive and finding their virtue is the most common theme between them, so that they can in turn help others to find their virtues as well, so that they can help improve the wasteland and make it a better place for everyone, like Equestria used to be.
“Maybe he has his own secret agenda for why he does this, seeing as how in every case, he has never actually revealed himself – maybe he’s trying to find someone specific – but regardless, some of the greatest ponies in the wasteland have been forged simply because a voice on a little spritebot first set them on the right path, so I think that it’s safe to say that he’s a good guy.”
The Storyteller stopped to take a pause for a moment before he continued speaking. “Some people think that those who Watcher speaks with are cursed, doomed to die and be forgotten, all for the sake of a mysterious entity who never even shows his face; but me? I think that he’s just someone trying to make sure that the ponies out here never lose hope.” The Storyteller then suddenly looked down at the ground, the volume of his voice dropping slightly. “Hope is a dangerous thing to lose in this world.”
Buck Shot looked rather quiet and introspective after hearing that. “Y-yeah.” He uttered, taking it all in. There was then a long, drawn out silence between the three of them before Buck Shot spoke up again. “So, errr… You want to do some trading?” He asked, awkwardly.
Looking back up at Buck, there was another short moment of silence before the Storyteller responded. “That depends, what do you have to trade?”
“Well,” Buck started, levitating three bottles out of his saddle bags. “I’ve got these bottles of Sparkle Cola that I found.”
“…Sparkle Cola, you say?” The Storyteller inquired, his interest peaked.
“Yeah,” Buck said, a smile slowly forming on his face, perking back up. “You like it?”
“Of course, you’d be hard pressed to find anypony in the wasteland… no, in Equestria that doesn’t love the cool, refreshing taste of Sparkle Cola. The rich, carroty taste mixing with the sweet sugar and just a pinch of radiation, delivering an explosion of flavour in every sip. It may be just a soft drink, but it’s still probably one of the biggest contributions to Equestria today.
After the Storyteller had finished speaking, there was a long, drawn-out silence between the two ponies and spritebot, just standing there, not saying anything. Nobody moved at all until Buck Shot finally decided to speak up again. “So, errr… does that mean you’re leaving for now?” He wondered.
“What? No.” The Storyteller responded, in a surprised manner. “I was just about to tell you about the history of Sparkle Cola.”
“Well, yeah, but you also said that that was a ‘story for another day’,” Buck reasoned.
There was then another long silence before the Storyteller spoke up again. “Oh, right,” he said, in realisation. “Sorry about that. I’m used to telling just one story at a time and then moving on to where I need to be for my next one, so I always end a story leading into the next one by saying ‘But that is a story for another day…’ It’s a bad habit but I can’t seem to break it.”
Buck Shot simply gave him an incredulous look in response.
The Storyteller coughed awkwardly into his hoof to clear his throat, creating a bit of static through his visor as he did so. “So then,” he continued. “You still interested in hearing the story of Sparkle Cola?”
Buck Shot suddenly perked up at that. “Of course. I freakin’ love Sparkle Cola.”
The Storyteller smiled underneath his helmet. “Yeah, you and just about everypony in the wasteland. Did you know that its popularity is part of the reason why we use bottle caps as currency? You see, after the war ended, water became the most valuable resource in the wasteland. Everyone both wanted and needed it, and would do just about anything to get it. That might also be how the first raider gangs sprung up, but that’s neither here nor there.
“The problem was that it was difficult to lug around gallons of water everywhere, so they eventually started using just the bottle caps to represent the value of the water. Sparkle Cola bottle caps are plentiful enough that they represent a significant monetary worth, while also rare enough to prevent inflation, since the technology used to create them was lost with the war, so no more can be created, which maintains that there are only a limited amount of caps circulating…”
“You’re rambling,” Buck Shot cut him off. Next to the power armored pony, PINK-E also turned towards him and started whining, as if giving her partner a knowing look.
With a slight glance towards her, the Storyteller simply cleared his throat again before continuing. “Right, sorry about that. Anyway, just sit back and prepare to hear the tale of the most successful fruit-flavoured soft drink ever made. The story of Sparkle Cola goes all the way back to before the war. Back then, there were all sorts of fruits and vegetables, like apples, oranges, pears, cabbages, and yes, even carrots, for which Sparkle Cola gets its delectable taste; and there were entire families of farmers dedicated to each one.
“The Apple Family, in particular, had what was probably the largest monopoly on apples and apple accessories in all of Equestria, with everything from apple juice to apple pies, apple cobblers, apple turnovers, apple dumplings and more. Name a market and they were in it.”
The Storyteller’s rambling was suddenly cut off by the sound of Buck Shot’s rumbling stomach. “Do you mind if you skip this part?” the unarmoured unicorn spoke up, with an embarrassed blush on his face. “You’re just making me hungry and I don’t have any food on me right now.”
“Oh, right, sorry again.” The Storyteller apologised. “Anyway, their monopoly was good for them, but hard on the other farmers trying to get by. That’s where the tale of one lowly carrot farmer enters the story. There are some people who think that it was Twilight Sparkle who created Sparkle Cola – what with them both sharing the same name, and people taking Occam’s Razor to it – but they’re mistaken. The truth is, no one remembers exactly who it was who first created Sparkle Cola; another secret lost to time it seems. The only thing known for certain is that they were a carrot farmer from back before the war. With their business going through a rough patch and struggling to stay afloat, they needed a new product to boost their sales and fast, so they decided to break into an untapped market: soft drinks.
“Oh sure, the Apple Family had their own products in that market too, though it was primarily apple juice for the kids and apple cider for the adults, with nothing in between, and what soft drinks there were already were just generic sodas that you’d buy whenever you were thirsty without really thinking about it. With that in mind, this carrot farmer decided to create a carrot flavoured soft drink, to appeal to ponies of all ages. It couldn’t just be any soft drink though, in order to really stand out, and it had to be more than just carrot flavoured juice.
“The exact recipe for Sparkle Cola has also been lost to time; sure there are some people who try make it themselves, but every one of them are missing that one secret ingredient that makes Sparkle Cola so delicious, which of course makes any bottles still found from before the war all the more valuable.”
That bit of info made Buck Shot smile, knowing that he could charge more for these bottles now.
“The only ingredients that anypony knows for absolute certain are carrots and magical radiation. You ever notice that while you’re drinking the stuff, that you’re Geiger Counter suddenly starts beeping?” This was just a rhetorical question, though, as the Storyteller could see that Buck Shot didn’t have a Geiger Counter on him. Who knows? Maybe it was in the shop. “Don’t worry, though. The soda’s not dangerous to drink. You’d have to drink an entire factory’s worth of the stuff in order for it to be able to affect you like that. Although, it’s so addictive that I’m sure there are some people out there who have tried. There are even some out there who think that Sparkle Cola is the original source of the magical radiation used in megaspells, although the idea that the most destructive weapons imaginable started out as a way to make soft drinks taste better is just a little too farfetched to be true. Nevertheless, the recipe gave birth to one of the biggest beverages ever known to ponykind, and it took off like a rocket. Side note: there actually used to be a short Sparkle Cola promotion that came in rocket cans, with a slogan that read, ‘A taste so great, it’s out of this world’…”
“Rambling,” Buck Shot repeated, while simply giving him another incredulous look.
“Right,” was all the Storyteller responded with, at first, with a small nod of his head. “Anyway, with the recipe perfected, it was ready to be released into the world. At first, its creator was hoping that it would at least make enough in sales until their next harvest, to keep their business afloat, but boy-oh-boy, did it go so much farther than that. Once the public got their hooves on it and tried that delectable taste for the first time, sales took off like… well, like a rocket.”
Buck Shot simply gave him a flat look, arching an eyebrow in response.
Clearing his throat a third time, the Storyteller continued. “Yes, well that was just the beginning for this soft drink. In just a few short months, Sparkle Cola was everywhere: on billboards, in casinos, playgrounds, schools, even on suits of power armor; and soda machines lined virtually every street in the country. There were so many bottles of the stuff made that we’re still finding them even now two hundred years later. In short, the stuff was everywhere. No matter where in Equestria you were, you could hardly go a day without at least seeing it somewhere.”
“Well yeah,” Buck Shot spoke up. “Sparkle Cola’s the best soda there is. No other drinks short of alcohol can even compare.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” the Storyteller responded, raising his hoof up in a gesture as he spoke. “There is one other soft drink which, while still nowhere near as successful as Sparkle Cola, still had quite a large popularity before and during the war, particularly around the Las Pegasus area. I’m speaking of course of Sunrise Sarsaparilla. It’s the only drink that could effectively be called Sparkle Cola’s rival. Every great thing needs one, after all.
“Whereas Sparkle Cola was made with carbonated carrot juice, Sunrise Sarsaparilla was a root-beer-type carbonated beverage; it also doesn’t have any trace amounts of radiation, like its rival. Their slogan was, “Sunrise Sarsaparilla: It gives you extra sass”.
“The ‘sassy’ beverage has been around even longer than Sparkle Cola, though, dating back to before the war. However, that far back, it was simply known as sarsaparilla. It didn’t get a proper commercial name until Sparkle Cola made its debut, and the company needed a better way to continue competing against the breakout hit. Though like I said, while it was popular, it was still nowhere near the level of Sparkle Cola.
“The Sunrise Sarsaparilla company had to have Princess Celestia herself on their cans just to stay in the game. I’m not entirely sure whether the company had the Princess’ permission to do this or not, but back then, it wasn’t really an issue. The solar alicorn never made any public appearances after the disaster at the Battle of Shattered Hoof Ridge, but that’s another story altogether.”
Buck Shot somehow got the feeling that the Storyteller would end up trying to tell him that story at some point anyway, but ignored it for now. “So, Sunrise Sarsaparilla rivalled Sparkle Cola in popularity?” He asked.
“In the grand scheme of things, not really.” The Storyteller answered him. “Sunrise Sarsaparilla only had their one flavour brand, while Sparkle Cola became so big, that they eventually started making other versions of it and many different types of promotions, like Sparkle Cola Quartz, Sparkle Cola Victory, and the aforementioned rocket can; slight variations of flavour, with new labels. Perhaps the best known of these variations, however, was Sparkle Cola RAD, which was made with radishes instead of carrots. There were some who thought that the radiation added was the secret to why Sparkle Cola tasted so good, so they reasoned that if they added even more, then it would taste even better. These bottles intentionally added so much mostly harmless radiation that it literally glows. In fact, if I had to guess, they were probably just shy of the lethal dose to get it passed standards and practices. Just one small sip was like a buck to the face. In fact, that was even their slogan. While it can be difficult for some to finish an entire bottle, though, they’re still just as, if not more addictive than the standard bottles of Sparkle Cola. Perhaps it’s in the radiation, after all; ‘Uranium Fever’ and all that.
“Sparkle Cola RAD’s are rare enough, since the promotion didn’t last long, and it happened to come out around the time when the war was coming to an end, so not that many bottles of the stuff were made. If you happen to come across some out there in the wastes, you’re probably better off holding on to it. There are some out there – mostly addicts – who would be willing to pay a lot of caps for them. RAD’s are so chocked full of radioactive elements that there are even those who have taken to using them to make grenades, and I can tell you from personal experience that they pack quite a punch; a lot worse than a buck to the face, I’ll tell you that.
“However, while each of these promotions were successful in their own right, ponies still never got tired of the original recipe. In fact, their success had reached such levels, that in the final days of the old world, the company was planning an entire theme park based around the soft drink, called ‘Sparkle World’. However, due to issues like copyright on the name, and the looming megaspell threat, it was never fully realised. The ruins of the park still exist out there, but instead of fun times for the whole family, it’s now a hive of scum and villainy, full of the worst raiders imaginable.
“I made the trip up there myself a while ago, and I’ll tell you now, that place is a lost cause. Not even a wasteland hero would be able to redeem that place, short of killing every raider that’s set up shop there, and even that would be difficult, with how deep they’ve dug themselves in there, tarnishing what was supposed to be a symbol of fun and peace and turning it into something ugly. Truly, a sad and tragic end for what started with such noble intentions.” The Storyteller suddenly paused and looked down, as if in thought. “I’m sure that there’s a metaphor for the world in there somewhere.”
When he was finished, he then stood up straight so that he could wrap things up. “And there you have it; the story of Sparkle Cola,” the Storyteller finished. “So, friend, after hearing all of that, now that you know all about it, back to my original question: how much for that bottle of Sparkle Cola you’re selling?”
“Oh, uhh…” Buck Shot stuttered, caught off guard by the question. “Well, uhhmm…” he started, levitating one of the bottles out. “How about… sixty… three caps?” He came out with, thinking it would be a reasonable price after what he had just heard.
“Sounds reasonable,” the Storyteller responded after a moment. “I would have gone as high as eighty caps myself.”
At that, Buck Shot suddenly switched expression to a sly smile. “Alright then; eighty caps or nothing.” He said, now sounding a lot more confident.
There was complete silence on the factory floor for about ten seconds, before the power armored pony responded. “Heh, a shrewd business tactic there,” he said in a straight tone, “but an effective one.” Buck could then only assume that the Steel Ranger was smirking slightly underneath his helmet. “Alright then, he you go.” He said, levitating a bunch of caps out from somewhere and floated them over to the wasteland unicorn.
With the caps in hoof, Buck Shot then floated the Sparkle Cola bottle over to the power armored unicorn, who took a hold of it in his own magical aura, the colour going from dark green to silver. “Pleasure doing business with you,” Buck said, with a smile on his face. With the business transaction over, Buck then floated the other bottle out, took off the bottle cap, and chugged it down, enjoying the taste of the carrot flavoured drink as it made its way down his throat, it tasting even better to him now that he knew its story.
The Storyteller kept his own bottle floating in front of him for a moment, and when Buck Shot thought that he was about to remove his helmet so that he drink it himself – and so Buck Shot could finally see his face – he instead simply floated it over towards PINK-E beside him. “I think I’ll save this for later,” he said. “Hey, PINK-E, you mind holding on to this for me?” With a mechanical whine of affirmation from the pink spritebot, a small compartment opened up on her front, and the Storyteller placed the Sparkle Cola bottle inside.
“So,” the Storyteller spoke up, facing Buck Shot again. “You got anything else to trade?”
Finishing off his Sparkle Cola, he tossed the empty bottle away and put the bottle cap into his saddlebags before responding. “No, that’s about the only thing I have to trade at the moment. All I’ve got now is my shotgun, barding, and a bit of water, all of which I need to survive.”
“Throughout my journey’s, I’ve learned that the wasteland is a big and dangerous place.” The Storyteller spoke up again. “Leather barding and a combat shotgun won’t protect you from much out here when you’re all by yourself.”
Buck Shot then cracked a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, well we don’t all have a suit of power armor to protect us.”
The Storyteller seemed to crack a smile underneath his helmet at that. “Power armor.” He stated simply, with obvious intrigue laced in his voice. “Now there’s a subject with an interesting history. Originally conceived by the Ministry of Wartime Technology, with the goal of turning a single soldier into a walking tank. The first models were so advanced at the time that even a single soldier in one of those suits could completely turn the tide of battle so that…”
“Uhh, sorry there,” Buck Shot interrupted him, raising his hoof up to stop him. “I appreciate the history lesson on where Sparkle Cola comes from, as well as the caps, but I think I’ll be on my way now, if you don’t mind.”
There was another short silence between them before the Storyteller spoke again. “Oh, alright, I understand. I’ll just be on my way then. Take care, stranger.” He then turned around to walk away and leave. “Oh, and watch out for the Hellhounds,” he mentioned casually, over his shoulder.
The mention of Hellhounds suddenly made Buck Shot tense up and his eyes widened. “D-d-did you just say… ‘Hellhounds’?” He stuttered out.
“Hmmm,” the power armored unicorn uttered, stopping and turning back to look at him, seeming not to notice the other pony’s worry. “Oh, didn’t you know? This whole area is in Hellhound territory. That’s probably another reason why there’s no one else scavenging out here.”
Buck Shot still looked worried. “B-but I didn’t see any Hellhounds when I first came out here,” he tried to reason.
“Well, this area’s right on the fringe of Hellhound territory, so they only make their way out here at night, and the Sun’s just started to go down, so they should be popping up soon. Literally. Hellhounds are known for their tunnelling skills, and could pop up right underneath your feet and strike at you before you even realise they’re there; and with how sharp their claws are, all they need is one swipe to completely take your head off. You’d be dead before you even have time to process it.” He recited this like it was the most casual thing in the world.
Noticing the non-powered armored unicorn pale at those words, the Storyteller then added, “Oh, but don’t worry, though. While they are undoubtedly dangerous, Hellhounds are far from the legendary monsters of the wastes that most people think they are. In fact, armed with the knowledge of their lore, a proper understanding of tactics, and… oh, let’s say, a laser rifle to take them out at long range, they actually go down fairly easily, so you shouldn’t worry about them too much.
“Still though, could you imagine walking around all alone through Hellhound territory without being, or at least being with a guy who had all of those things? Boy, I’d sure hate to be that guy.”
Noticing Buck Shot’s face suddenly go from scared to another kind of look, the Storyteller simply turned back around fully so that he was facing away from him again. “Well, I’ll be seeing you around. Come along, PINK-E.”
As the two of them were leaving, the pink spritebot suddenly stopped, turned around, and simply stared back at Buck Shot for a moment before turning back around again and following her partner out.
All alone on the factory floor now, Buck Shot quickly darted his eyes all around himself, the silence around him deafening, and jumped a little when he thought he heard a noise. Suddenly, he broke into a gallop and quickly caught up to the Steel Ranger and spritebot, now outside the Ironshod factory. “So, you were talking about power armor?” Buck said in a hasty tone, as they ran along, side by side. “That sounds like an interesting story.”
“Indeed it is,” the Storyteller spoke up, with a sly smile underneath his helmet, unseen by Buck Shot. “But that is a story for another day…”
“I don’t know but I’ve been told. Cottage Cheese is mighty old.” The Storyteller chanted as he sprinted along, with Buck Shot at his side, and PINK-E following behind them. The three of them had managed to put some distance between them and the Ironshod factory before the Storyteller had spoken up again after finishing his last story. The area around them was silent and mostly empty, with only the ruined remains of half-buried trucks leading up to the factory, which had been blown away when the first megaspells hit. Now that Buck Shot was aware of it, he also noticed a couple of crudely dug holes littering the ground, which even he knew were associated with Hellhounds, putting him on edge. The Sun had almost completely gone down now, leaving the sky somewhere between the orange of late evening and the black of night.
“Do you…” Buck Shot, who was keeping pace alongside the Storyteller, wheezed. “…have to chant that as we run.”
“Like I said before; most ponies can only get around the wasteland on foot, so you have to be in peak physical condition if you want to survive out here.” The Storyteller responded as they continued sprinting along. “When there’s nothing around that could pose a threat, sprinting is a great way to get exercise, and it helps you reach your destination quicker. A good chant can also keep your mind focused and your breathing regular while you do so.” He explained, returning his full attention to his running. “I don’t know but it’s been said. Enclave Armor’s made of lead.” He continued chanting. “Sound off.”
PINK-E chirped behind him, as a sound off.
Letting out a sigh as he ran, Buck Shot decided to drop it, but he did pick up on something that the Storyteller had just said in his chant. “Isn’t Enclave power armor more advanced than Steel Ranger power armor? What with them having the means and technology to improve it since the war?”
“Well, Enclave armor is actually an improved version of pegasus power armor. That’s a completely separate model from what’s used in the Steel Rangers.” The Storyteller explained while they continued running. “You see, power armor was originally made with earth ponies in mind, as a way of bolstering their already impressive physical strength and endurance, in addition to granting increased protection from enemy gunfire. During the war, earth ponies made up the majority of the front line soldiers, with the pegasi acting as aerial reinforcements and reconnaissance, and unicorns as researchers and engineers working behind the scenes.
“The first power armor models were a lot more bulky than the ones you see today, and offered more protection as well. Rather than traditional armor that you equipped piece by piece, they were instead more like vehicles that you entered and exited, and piloted on the battlefield. The problem was that due to their large size and intricate design work, they required portable spark batteries to run the internal servos in order to operate and to allow movement. The same spark batteries that could run a factory generator for two hundred years could run a suit of power armor for about twenty minutes. Obviously this wasn’t ideal, as the whole reason that Equestria was fighting the war was because of energy needs; at least at first. The engineers needed a way to reduce the power requirements, while still keeping the defensive capabilities. The end result was power armor as it’s known today.
“Now rather than using expensive spark batteries, each individual armor piece was powered by the same spark packs used in energy weapons, linked together by a spell matrix. These new power armor’s weren’t all one big machine like the earlier models, but they were still interconnected nonetheless. They were slick enough to provide decent manoeuvrability, while also strong enough to resist enemy gunfire, and support large weapons like grenade launchers and miniguns.”
The Storyteller looked towards the sky as he continued sprinting. “They were certainly a sight to behold. The very sight of these soldiers on the battlefield was enough to have a rallying effect on the rest of the non-power armored soldiers, while also making the enemy worry. The moment these armor’s starting hitting the battlefield in large numbers was one of the major turning points during the war. The zebras had to start adjusting their strategies and tactics accordingly in order to keep up and stay in the game.”
“You mean it didn’t make them basically invincible?” Buck Shot inquired.
The Storyteller simply chuckled at that. “There’s no such thing as a perfect weapon. In fact, the stronger one is, the better the weapon the enemy has to come up with in order to counter it, and the zebras were certainly no exception in that regard. They developed something called a ‘Bypass Spell’: an enchantment, which when applied to something, allowed it to completely ignore whatever the bypass was made for, as if it wasn’t even there. They applied these bypass spells to special incinerator rounds, which burst into flames as soon as they made contact. Just imagine it: a flaming bullet comes flying at you, your power armor offering no protection, and as soon as it penetrates your skin, it bursts into flames; with no way for the flames to escape, it starts to cook you alive inside of your own armor.” He then stopped to imagine it. “A scary thought to say the least.” He said in a straight tone.
Buck Shot shivered at the thought. “Sounds like power armor wasn’t that useful, after all.”
The Storyteller merely chuckled again. “Not at all. First off, it was several years after power armor first made its battlefield debut that zebras had finalised their bypass spells, and even then, they took time to apply and set up properly. The years leading up to then were some of the best years of combat for Equestria during the war. Zebra’s speciality was stealth tactics, used for infiltration, so power armor gave ponies a major advantage on the front lines, allowing them to capture enemy positions and expand into zebra territory. The Shattered Hoof Ridge is the closest pony base established near the zebra homeland, and having their enemy so close by certainly didn’t help them sleep at night.
“Like I said, power armor was a major turning point for ponies during the war; so much so in fact, that when the pegasi saw how effective it was, they wanted power armor models of their very own. However, that wasn’t as easy as simply putting a pegasus into an existing suit. Pegasus power armor needed to be strong enough to protect the pony inside, but also light enough to still allow them manoeuvrability enough to fly. However, reducing the weight would also reduce the amount of protection the armor could offer, and of course the grenade launchers, missile launchers, and miniguns that came equipped with power armor would only weigh it down even more. Earth ponies fully encased in power armor don’t have that much mobility while weighed down with those big guns, so even the strongest pegasus couldn’t hope to fly like that, so the entire model had to be built again from the ground up.
“Pegasus power armor was actually a collaboration effort between the Ministry of Wartime Technology and the Ministry of Awesome. While earth pony models were big, rigid and made to increase their strength even further, pegasus power armor was slick, smooth and lightweight, keeping their occupant’s agility, while still offering increased protection. They even came equipped with a scorpion-like tail for quick, melee strikes, furthering adding to their versatility. Also, while earth pony suits came equipped with miniguns and grenade launchers for suppressive fire and area of effect, pegasus power armor came equipped with energy weapons for quick and accurate shots, making them superb for cover fire. The reduced weight did mean that they didn’t offer as much protection as earlier earth pony models, but the protection to agility ratio made them a force to be reckoned with nonetheless.”
Buck Shot suddenly got a smirk on his face. “So does that mean that if the Steel Rangers had to fight the Enclave, they would lose due to superior power armor models?”
The Storyteller simply chuckled derisively. “Of course not. Pegasus power armor was built with accuracy and agility in mind, but all the accuracy in the world is useless if you can’t damage your opponent. Earlier power armor models used by earth ponies, and later the Steel Rangers, were specifically built to resist heavy damage. If the two sides ever came to blows, the Steel Rangers superior defence would be more than enough to resist any energy weapon attacks thrown at them, while our high area explosives would quickly scatter any large groups, even in the air, and rapid fire miniguns would tear through their own armor like… well, like lead.” He added with a small smirk underneath his helmet.
“Sure, the pegasi during the war were a force to be reckoned with, and sure, the Enclave has been able to make improvements since then, but that was because zebra soldiers were lightly armored for stealth, so there was always a weak spot to exploit. Even their total air superiority would be little importance to the full might of the Steel Rangers.” He spoke with pride; Buck Shot merely rolled his eyes at that.
“Pegasus power armor – and hence, Enclave power armor – was also a lot more intimidating looking, with its black colour scheme and insectoid appearance, making them resemble changelings; whereas Steel Ranger armor is a cool grey, standing strong and tough, as the symbol of Equestrian protection that they were and still are. Intimidating to enemies, sure, but allies know that they’re there to help… so it’s no wonder why the two factions end up with such different reactions to their appearance.” His voice started to take on a sly tone. “You’ve got the old school, staunch protector of Equestria in the Steel Rangers, working to make Equestria great again, and the intimidating and villainous bunch in the Enclave, who only care about their own survival and isolationism, not caring about the surface at best, and actively hindering or destroying our progress down here at worst. These days, when you see a pony in power armor, all it takes is just a single glance at the model to know which side of the firing line you’re on.”
Buck Shot simply shook his head at that, knowing that a good bit of what the Storyteller had just said was just Steel Ranger propaganda. He did still learn a lot more about power armor, though there was still something that he didn’t know. “Okay, so you’ve talked, extensively,” he whispered under his breath, “about earth pony and pegasus power armor models, but what about unicorn power armor, like you’re wearing?” He asked.
Although Buck couldn’t see it, the Storyteller’s expression once again underneath his helmet. “Well, that’s where it gets a little tricky. Just like modifying a suit of power armor for a pegasus is a lot more complicated than simply putting a pegasus pony into an existing suit, making a unicorn model was a lot more than just installing horn slot in the helmet. Even if they did that, however, it still wouldn’t work. A part of what makes power armor so protective is that it completely seals in the pony inside, so that nothing short of a bypass enchantment can get in or out. Even if you did just install a horn slot on to a suit of power armor and put a unicorn inside it, they would still be able to use their magic, but it wouldn’t be able to penetrate the suit to actually work. The helmet is also what controls several of the power armor’s features, like the built in S.A.T.S. system, and the inventory sorter, without which, their effectiveness would be reduced. There are even some unicorns in the Steel Rangers who resort to cutting their own horns off – permanently crippling themselves – just so that they can wear power armor and be more useful. Now that’s true dedication to a cause.”
While the Storyteller seemed impressed at their dedication, Buck Shot visibly shivered at the thought of having his horn cut off.
“This was something that would require a lot research and resources to figure out,” the Storyteller continued. “Unfortunately, near the end of the war, unicorn power armor never saw production. There simply weren’t enough unicorns on the front line to warrant such an investment in time and resources to find a way around it, and by that point, the war was approaching its conclusion, and scientists had already started to move on to something even bigger than power armor; something which could win the war in one fell swoop.”
“Megaspells.” Buck Shot interjected.
“Bingo.” The Storyteller responded.
PINK-E chirped behind them.
“So then, what about you’re power armor? I’ve seen you using magic through your power armor.” Buck Shot asked, with an arched eyebrow, remembering him holding his laser rifle and Sparkle Cola with his magic.
“Well,” the Storyteller began again. “I never said that a workaround for unicorn power armor was never found; it’s just that the method of doing so is very esoteric and only known to a very select few,” he said, with obvious pride dripping from his voice, indicating himself. “My power armor is unique, in that it has a special starmetal finish lining the armor. Starmetal is a rare alloy that has the mysterious properties of not reacting with Equestrian magic, so I can still use my own magic whilst fully encased in it. As an aside, the effect of not reacting with magic means that it also offers an impressive resistance to energy weapons, making things even more difficult for any Enclave soldiers I happen to run across.”
Ignoring that last part, Buck Shot instead focused on the name of the alloy that he mentioned. “Starmetal?” He wondered. “I’ve never heard of that.”
“You wouldn’t have.” The Storyteller replied. “It’s a rare alloy that’s not found naturally on this planet. Like the name suggests, it comes from the stars.” The power armor encased unicorn then faced forward again, returning his full attention to his running. “But that is a story for another day…”
Buck Shot simply let out a sigh as they continued running along.
In the time that it took for the Storyteller to start talking again, the group had decided to make camp for the night. The Sun had now gone down completely, making the whole area around them almost pitch black, illuminated only by the campfire that the three of them were gathered around, which PINK-E had lit with her built-in laser rifle.
Buck Shot didn’t have any food on him, but the Storyteller had passed him a buck cake; it wasn’t much, but he was so hungry that he didn’t care. PINK-E, as a robot, didn’t need to eat, while the Storyteller simply wasn’t eating anything. Buck Shot didn’t know if it was because he didn’t have any more food on him – possible, since he only gave him the one buck cake – though it did make him wonder if he was ever going to see this pony’s face.
“So, the next topic that you were going to talk about was ‘Starmetal’?” Buck Shot spoke up, knowing that the Storyteller was going to start talking soon anyway, and wanted to get it over with, so that he could rest and get some sleep.
“That’s right,” the Storyteller began. “Like I said before, it’s an alloy that’s not found naturally on this planet of ours. This was first hypothesised following the first recorded appearance of these metals over twelve hundred years ago, after a meteor shower, and the pony who discovered it was none other than Princess Luna herself. History says that she was enamoured with the material immediately, as it was something that no pony had ever laid their eyes on before. She was so impressed by it, that she had it melted down and forged into a suit of armor for herself.”
Starmetal armor? That certainly sounded familiar. “You mean like yours?” Buck Shot asked.
“Not exactly,” the Storyteller responded. “My armor simply has a starmetal chrome finish, allowing me the use of my magic whilst encased in the stuff, along with an increased energy resistance. The amount of starmetal that I used in my armor also wouldn’t offer much protection on its own; I only had one small rock of it after all, and even that was ridiculous to obtain. Princess Luna was another story, however, and it’s not one for another day.”
Buck Shot couldn’t help but facehoof at that remark.
“Sure her armor wasn’t a body-encompassing suit like power armor, but it was still effective nonetheless, protecting her fiercely in battle. Though I’m sure that them not having firearms back then might have had something to do with it, but I digress.
“Legends say that Princess Luna was one of the mightiest warriors in all of pony history – if there are any who would think that she was merely a Princess and didn’t earn her place, then all they would have to do is look to history – and I’m sure that a majestic suit of armor like that was a part of it. After all, behind every great warrior is an exceptional suit of armor… although, technically I suppose it would be in front of them. Armor can’t protect you if it’s behind you, after all.”
Buck Shot facehooved again. Next to him, PINK-E turned and gave a quiet mechanical whinny, as if to do the robotic equivalent.
“The armor was certainly impressive, both to look at and in combat.” The Storyteller continued. “It’s just a shame that such a beautiful thing came to be associated with the evil of Nightmare Moon.”
“Nightmare Moon?” Buck Shot spoke up. “I remember that from a story my Mom used to read to me at night when I was a foal. That was the name Princess Luna used when she was corrupted by jealousy of her sister, right?”
“Well, a part of Princess Luna, perhaps.” The Storyteller clarified. “It’s not known whether or not Nightmare Moon was just a new name Princess Luna chose for herself after she rebelled, or if it was actually an outside force acting on her. I doubt anyone will ever know for sure.
“After Princess Luna returned from her banishment on the Moon over two hundred years ago and was purified by the Elements of Harmony, she had the starmetal armor locked away, hoping that it would never again see the light of day. For all I know, it could still be there where she locked it up. While there are records stating that Princess Luna did a bit of fighting in the early days of the war, they never mention her wearing her old armor. Maybe she thought that the starmetal in the armor had some sort of corrupting influence which made her Nightmare Moon in the first place, and she didn’t want to risk it. If that was the case, she certainly wouldn’t have been the only one.”
This certainly caught Buck Shot’s attention, and as usual, the Storyteller continued before he could ask. “In fact, in a roundabout way, starmetal may have been the reason that the Great War happened in the first place; or at least why it stumbled so far out of control.”
Okay, now Buck Shot was really interested and confused. “How could a space rock have been the reason for the War?” He asked.
“Well,” the Storyteller began. “The zebras have always been a superstitious folk, with many strange beliefs, and the stars were a big one for them. They believed that the stars were actually evil spirits that sought the destruction of our world. There have been several meteor showers every few centuries – the space rocks that fell down bringing with them more starmetal. The zebras thought that this was the spirits trying to invade our world, find a host to act upon and infect them with its poison.”
“Starmetal is poisonous?” Buck Shot wondered aloud, with an arched eyebrow.
“Well, not in the traditional sense. While you certainly wouldn’t want to put it inside your body, I wouldn’t say that it’s poisonous, exactly. It’s also likely that the zebras weren’t speaking in a literal sense. As something that fell from space, they believed that starmetal was an agent of the stars, which had corrupting properties that could control and influence people’s action, carrying out some greater will, and that the stars had found their agent in Princess Luna, who they couldn’t differentiate from Nightmare Moon. The zebras, as you can imagine, with their strange beliefs, didn’t take this too well at all. In fact, around the time when Princess Celestia stepped down and Princess Luna took the throne, was when the zebras started getting more and more extreme in their efforts to win the war. They believed that Equestria was now under complete control of Nightmare Moon and thus evil star spirits, and that if we had won the war, soon the entire world would follow.
“In the final days of the war, things were certainly in Equestria’s favour. Around that time, the Ministry of Arcane Sciences was finishing up work on their two most promising projects: the Impelled Metamorphosis Potion, which could turn ordinary ponies into near unstoppable alicorn soldiers, and country-wide protective shields which could have protected Equestria from any and all of the Zebra’s megaspells.
“In fact, some ponies think that if we had just had a couple more months, Equestria could have easily won the war. Of course, to the zebras, this meant death and subjugation at the hooves of Nightmare Moon, who they believed was an agent of the stars, and soon the entire world would follow suit. They were so desperate to prevent that from happening that they thought that death would have been preferable; for them and everyone else. They were only a few moves away from checkmate and they knew that they couldn’t win, so they did the only thing they could: they blew up the board.”
Buck Shot couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You mean that all this,” he said, gesturing to the wasteland around them – which didn’t really have as much of an impact as he would have liked for what he was saying since it was pitch black. “…all of it… was all because of a… dumb rock?”
The Storyteller seemed to pause for a moment to consider how to say what he wanted to say next. “Well, when you say it like that, of course it sounds ridiculous. Like I said before, not much is definitively known about starmetal, since it can’t be found on our planet, and any events that could bring more are few and far between, so there haven’t been many opportunities to properly study it and find out more about it, either. Even my knowledge on the subject is limited.
“There have been several meteor showers over the centuries, though, each one bringing with them more traces of starmetal; though as far as I’m aware, none of them were used in any big ways like Princess Luna’s armor, and even then, those willing to study the stuff are few and far between. It would seem that ponies are almost as hesitant about learning more about the stars as the zebras are and both because of legends from long before their time. Perhaps when all’s said and done, ponies and zebras really aren’t all that different.
“Regardless, I have come across several sources in my travels saying that Princess Luna had some of her ponies studying a sample of starmetal during the war, trying to find out if there really was more to it than meets the eye. The results of that research were never known, however; at least not publicly, so if there was anything discovered about it, nopony, or very few learned of it. Perhaps it lies lost somewhere out in the wasteland, just waiting for somepony to dig it up – and honestly, I hope that that pony will be me.
“Starmetal isn’t the only interstellar material that we know of, however,” the Storyteller continued, moving on. “The other is moon rock.”
“Moon rock?” Buck Shot asked. “As in, rocks that come from the moon?”
“That’s right, and unlike starmetal, moon rocks don’t fall to Equus from space. We actually went to the moon and brought some back.”
Buck Shot seemed to snap to attention fully when he said that. “Wait, went to the moon? You mean, like when Princess Luna was banished?”
“Well, whenever anyone, of any species, thinks about leaving this planet, they automatically think of Princess Luna’s banishment, since such a thing sounds too outlandish otherwise. What few remember, however, is that Equestria had a space program before the war, and ponies actually went to the moon and returned in just a few days instead of a thousand years.”
Buck Shot stared back at the Storyteller wide eyed as he spoke. He had heard the power armored pony say a lot of weird things since they had met, and just things in general, but this just seemed a little too strange even for him.
Before Buck Shot could speak up again, however, the Storyteller cut him off. “I can guess from your face that you don’t believe what I’m telling you is true, but I swear on the Codex that it is. In the later days of Equestria, as technology improved, some of the things that seemed impossible before started to become more mundane, and even going to the moon was one of them.
“The reasons for why we went there are unknown, but the data that we received from it was astronomical, if not far known. We did learn of a completely new element, after all. One aspect of moon rock is that it’s incredibly brittle and could easily fall apart in your hooves and turn to dust if held improperly. Not surprising, since there’s low gravity on the moon, and thus wouldn’t hold up well in our atmosphere. Another aspect is that it’s incredibly poisonous to ponies and other creatures, and breathing it in could lead to complications and even death, so proper safety was needed when handling it.
“There is one other thing about moon rock, however, which changed how we looked at it and its connection to starmetal forever, and that was they’re incredibly volatile when around each other.”
“What do you mean by ‘volatile’?” Buck Shot asked.
“What I mean,” the Storyteller continued. “Is that whenever the two elements come into contact with each other, the results tend to be… explosive. Even two shards of each, the size of small pebbles could produce a reaction equal to a frag grenade, and the level of explosiveness increases quickly the more of each compound there is. This fact alone tells us that starmetal and moon rock are not the same things, but rather the antithesis of each other.
“I’ve come across some discrete notes in my travels that the Ministries were researching ways of weaponising this compound during the war, but I never found any evidence concrete enough to prove this, so I can’t say for certainty, and some Ministry projects were so discrete that they’ll likely never be found again. It does seem likely, though, as both resources were so scarce that the Ministries would be the only ones who would have enough to even attempt such research. Starmetal and moon rock are also so unstable that large quantities of them colliding would approach megaspell levels of power. For all I know, there could be a megaspell based on such, but I shudder to even think about it.”
Buck Shot visibly shivered in response to that, despite the fire in front of him. “Sounds like starmetal can be dangerous when combined with moon rock.”
“Not just then, but on its own, as well. There is one last thing about starmetal, which is perhaps the biggest mystery surrounding the already mysterious element. You see, of all the times when starmetal has fallen to our planet from space, it wasn’t always in shards, but sometimes… weapons.
“Weapons?” Buck Shot parroted. “…of starmetal?”
“That’s right,” the Storyteller answered. “Such weapons bear some similarities to our own energy weapons, but with some distinct differences. One is that the handle of a starmetal weapon is one that no pony would ever be able to hold, even in their mouth. Only a unicorn would be able to effectively wield it, with their levitation, or perhaps another type of pony could by constructing a handle and integrating it on to a suit of power armor. Another distinction is that it uses a unique type of battery for its ammunition that ponies have been unable to replicate, though they have developed a way of using said batteries to power other things, and the amount of energy they’re capable of producing is astonishing. That means that the only ammunition for these weapons is the ammo that’s already found inside of the weapon when it fell from the stars.
“There are perhaps only ever one or two of these weapons on our planet at any given time, which is probably a good thing, since it’s said that they’re so unbelievably powerful that just one shot from these ‘Star Blasters’ is powerful enough to vaporize a shielded alicorn in a single shot.”
“Wow,” Buck Shot said, in awe. “Sounds powerful.”
“And dangerous,” the Storyteller added. “It could certainly prove so if such a weapon fell into the wrong hooves.” He then seemed to stare contemplatingly into the fire. “Perhaps starmetal is a super intricate alloy used by some highly advanced alien species, or maybe what the zebras say is true and it really is made by evil star spirits who want to see us destroyed – but if you ask me, aside from some special properties that make it good armor, starmetal is just like you said: a dumb rock with nothing corrupting about it.”
Unless it makes ponies talk others to death. Buck Shot thought to himself, starting to calm down a bit. After a few seconds of silence, which he noticed he only got around this pony when he was moving on from one story to another, Buck Shot started to wonder if he was finished with this story and leading into another. “So… that’s it?” He asked.
“That’s it,” the Storyteller responded. “Like I said, there’s still a lot we don’t know for sure about starmetal. I’m sure that there is more information about it out there in the world somewhere, though, but I don’t have it… yet… hopefully.” At that, PINK-E turned and gave him a knowing look and a beep.
When Buck Shot didn’t hear him leading into another story and end with ‘But that is a story for another day’, he decided to speak up. “So, is that it? Are there no more stories?” He asked, hopefully not jinxing it.
“Well, there will always be more stories,” the Storyteller responded, as he started to roll over. “But those…” He yawned. “…are for another day.”
Buck Shot simply rolled his eyes at the way he used his catchphrase to say goodnight, but didn’t say anything himself. PINK-E then turned to him and gave a mechanical whinny in response.
“Hey, quiet down. I’m trying to sleep.” The Storyteller scolded.
It is now morning, with the Sun’s rays coming through the wasteland’s perpetual cloud cover a bit brighter than usual today. Buck Shot, the Storyteller and PINK-E had woken up three hours ago so that they could get a fresh start… and the Storyteller has been talking non-stop since then.
About what you ask?
“…and in the summer of the final year of the war, they switched back from high fructose corn syrup and carob extract to cane sugar and cocoa powder. You see, Buck Cakes aren’t actually baked; they congeal at room temperature into a cake-like substance. I’ve bumped into more than a few of their billboards in my day. The slogan claims ‘A big delight in every bite’, and a blue label proudly announces to the world that these spongy snack cakes were Equestria’s favourite food.”
Buck Shot had his eyes and teeth clenched tightly in irritation. When the Storyteller seemed to have finally reached the end of his story, he couldn’t help but release a long, drawn-out sigh. “You’ve been talking for three hours straight, reciting the entire recipe for Buck Cakes, down to every last excruciating detail.” He deadpanned.
“Of course,” the Storyteller replied instantly, in his regular tone of voice. “If we want to continue to enjoy the delectable treats well into the future, we have to learn and preserve the recipe. We won’t be able to just scavenge from the Old World forever. We need to build our own future and carve our way forward.”
Buck Shot simply let out another sigh. “Are we out of Hellhound territory yet?” He asked abruptly, perhaps a bit too aggressively.
If the Storyteller minded, he didn’t let it show. “Actually, I think we passed the border of Hellhound territory about an hour ago.” He clarified. Buck Shot was about to release a sigh of relief, but without missing a beat, the power armored unicorn continued. “However, now we’re deep in slaver territory, so instead of having to worry about being ripped apart in seconds by razor sharp claws or disintegrated by energy weapons, we now get to trade it for worrying about having a slave collar wrapped around our necks and spending the rest of our lives as somepony else’s property. And honestly, I’m not sure which one is worse.”
Instead of breathing a sigh of relief, Buck Shot instead swallowed a lump in his throat. “Of course,” he deadpanned. It looks like he’d be sticking with the Storyteller and PINK-E for a little while longer.
“Are slavers much of a problem around here?” Buck Shot asked, speaking up again, his voice sounding somewhere between stoic and nervous.
“Well, not when you have a laser rifle, a suit of power armor, and a badass robot to help you fight them off,” the Storyteller announced proudly, which if Buck didn’t know any better, he was giving him a wry smirk from underneath his helmet.
PINK-E chirped pridefully from behind them.
“But for everypony else…” He continued. “Well, slavers are one of the scourges of the wasteland. While they aren’t as high in numbers as raiders, they’re by far more dangerous due to their virtue of being organised. Rather than simply getting high on chems and recklessly charging at anypony they see for whatever reason or no reason at all, slavers have an actual sense of self-preservation, and are smart enough to use proper tactics and much better kept armor and weapons to outsmart and overwhelm their opponents.
“Unlike raiders, who simply use the most brutal of treatments to keep each other in line, and barely manage to scrape by day by day, slavers are properly united together, with a hierarchy based on loyalty and charisma, and held together by a business-like appreciation for caps. They hold themselves to a certain standard of living, and they’re smart enough to realise that just killing anypony above you will only create more problems for you and makes things harder in the long run.
“Slavers are technically business ponies, after all – just trafficking in other pony’s lives instead of guns, food and Sparkle Cola.”
From behind them, PINK-E gave a loud, annoyed, mechanical whinny.
“I know, PINK-E, it’s deplorable, but there are ponies like that out there. Also unlike raiders, slaver outfits are generally harder to take out than just by killing the guy in charge, because there’s always someone next down on the list that can take their place. I doubt even killing Red Eye himself would end the slaver reign of terror in the Equestrian Wasteland.
“As long as there are ponies out there who think that they’re better than others simply by way of birth or lifestyle or just their own egos, who don’t like doing the hard work themselves, and have plenty of caps to throw around, slavery will always be a thing, and with the world we live in, there’s always someone brutal enough to oblige. Nowadays, slavery is widespread throughout the entire Equestrian Wasteland.
“While the heart of slavery in the Equestrian Wasteland is the once great city of Fillydelphia – where even the Steel Rangers are struggling to hold out – there are still several smaller slavery hubs dotting the landscape, all intricately connected. Perhaps the most famous – or infamous – of them is the town of Old Appleloosa; built on top of one of the finest examples of earth pony ingenuity from before the War, now it’s a den of some of the worst ponies to roam the wastes: a fine metaphor for the war and following wasteland if I ever heard one.
“The slaves there are typically kept in conditions just good enough to keep them alive and to let them work, while still poor enough to break their wills and keep them from resisting and dreaming of freedom. Once a slave has stopped trying or hoping that one day they’ll be free – when a pony no longer has the ability to choose for themselves, when their very rights are denied… and they simply accept it as the way the world works – that’s when they’re well and truly no longer ponies, but simply other’s property. Certainly a tragic fate to say the least.
“In the end, what separates a free pony from a slave? The answer: a pony chooses, a slave obeys.”
Buck Shot grit his teeth. “Man, that’s why I hate slavers.”
While the three of them had been running and talking, they seemed to have reached a burned-out woodland filled with the husks of dead trees that had been stripped of all of their green long ago when the first megaspells hit. By the time they had finished speaking, the three of them had reached an outcropping, overlooking the area beyond, with the tree graveyard behind them, and the wide open spaces of the wasteland before them.
“Wow,” Buck Shot said in awe as he took in the view, his rage simmering down a bit. “It’s like the edge of the world.”
“Indeed,” the Storyteller replied. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my travels, it’s that the world is a lot bigger than you think it is.”
Suddenly, something far in the distance, near the horizon caught their attention. There was a group of about twelve ponies, all outfitted in combat armor and well-kept weapons, leading a wagon full of goods being pulled by other ponies, along a recently carved road, probably from about ten to twenty years ago based on how it looked. While the average pony would have seen this group of ponies as a simple trading caravan, somepony as seasoned and well-travelled as the Storyteller saw them for what they truly were.
“Slavers.” The powered armored unicorn spoke up.
Buck Shot grit his teeth at mere mention of the word, his earlier rage returning in earnest. “I hate slavers.” He then turned towards the Storyteller. “So are we gonna take them out?” He asked, turning towards his power armored companion. “And free those slaves?”
Turning to look at Buck Shot, the Storyteller took a moment to respond. “Something else that I’ve learned in the wasteland is that you shouldn’t start anything you’re not prepared to finish.” He then faced forward again. “That’s quite a large band of slavers, and honestly, I doubt that even I could take them all on – with or without your help – and walk away unscathed. Even if we did survive, we’d be battered and spent, vulnerable to the next threat that comes along, and we don’t have enough food or medical supplies to keep the slaves alive until we reached the next settlement, and we’d all likely be killed by the next threat that comes along, seeing us as easy prey.”
The Storyteller let out a sigh before continuing. “I don’t like saying it, but simply walking away and leaving them to it is likely the only way that those slaves will live past today.”
Buck Shot simply stared into the side of the Storyteller’s helmet and swallowed hard before also looking forward again, at the band of slavers in the distance who were getting away with their atrocities while there was nothing they could do to stop it. “I hate feeling so helpless.” He said in what was barely above a whisper.
“I know,” the Storyteller spoke up. “But that’s simply a harsh truth of life that you have to accept out here in the wasteland: that no matter how hard you try, you can’t save everyone, and sometimes the bad guys win.
“I doubt anypony short of a wasteland hero would not only consider taking those slavers on and free those slaves, but succeed as well. I’m good, but I’m not that good. With the state of the Equestrian Wasteland the way it is, we could certainly use a hero right now, but who knows when one of those will show up.”
With one last forlorn look at the slaver band and their captives in the distance, the Storyteller turned and started trotting away in the other direction, in an uncharacteristic silence, with PINK-E following close behind him. After a moment of hesitation, and one last look back himself, Buck Shot followed after them.
After they had left, there was a muffled sound coming from the ground beneath the spot where had been standing a moment ago: the whirring gears of a Stable door opening.
The Storyteller, PINK-E, and Buck Shot all crouched together in silence behind a large boulder. They had recently entered a narrow ravine, which the group had to pass through in order to reach the settlement on the other side. Shortly after they had entered the ravine, however, PINK-E had detected several life signs up ahead, and the Storyteller had told them all to hide behind said boulder.
In the Equestrian Wasteland, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
On the other side of the boulder that the three of them were hiding behind, they could hear the shuffling of hooves moving back and forth in a seemingly random pattern.
Now, somebody who has travelled the wasteland for as long as the Storyteller had would recognise the cause of this kind of behaviour immediately.
Feral ghouls.
After taking a moment to formulate a plan of attack, and then taking another moment to explain the plan to the other two, the Storyteller then nodded towards PINK-E, which the spritebot immediately recognised. She then floated out from behind the safety of their boulder, within full view of the feral ghouls, and began blaring her siren, attracting the attention of the horde.
The feral ghouls all reacted instantly, turning towards the pink spritebot, and letting out a shriek in unison before charging straight towards her. PINK-E immediately began firing at them with her built-in laser rifle, managing to take one out.
After a couple of seconds, but before the ghouls had reached PINK-E, the Storyteller then gestured towards Buck Shot with his hoof. “Now!” The scavenger pony then leapt out of the opposite side of the boulder, and immediately fired his shotgun into the air, drawing the ghouls’ attention on to him.
The feral ghouls all suddenly halted in their gallop and turned towards Buck Shot, instinctively preferring live meat to metal. Now galloping towards Buck Shot, he then levelled his shotgun at the approaching horde, taking shots at them from the front, whilst PINK-E continued firing at them from behind, catching the horde in a pincer attack.
As soon as the horde had changed direction, the Storyteller then stepped out on to the scene as well, next to PINK-E, taking aim with his tri-beam laser rifle. Within just a couple of seconds, the ghouls had been reduced from a mighty horde down to just a single zombie pony, which Buck Shot then shot the forehooves off of with the spread from his shotgun, forcing it to faceplant into the dirt.
“Divide and conquer,” The Storyteller said, levitating his tri-beam laser rifle back into a relaxed position at his side. As he PINK-E moved over towards Buck Shot, he noticed the one remaining feral ghoul still alive. “You gonna get that or should I?”
Buck Shot looked down at the zombie pony in front of him, which still tried to inch itself towards the scavenger pony in front of it with its two front stubs, out of nothing but an animalistic need to consume flesh. Up close, he could see just how feral and mindless this thing really was. Despite its erratic movement and the drool that constantly spewed from its mouth, its eyes were cold, unfocused and completely blank and devoid of life. This thing had been a pony once, no different than him. Was the pony that had once been this thing even in their anymore? Was there anything left of him at all?
Taking just a moment to pity this poor creature, Buck Shot then levelled his shotgun right in its face and pulled the trigger, causing its head to explode into viscera. The rest of its body immediately went limp as it was finally put down for good.
Buck Shot let out a sigh as he looked down at the no-longer-a-walking corpse. “I always feel bad for the ferals; normal ghouls lose their minds and the only cure is high calibre bullets straight to the brain.”
“It certainly is a tragic fate,” the Storyteller responded. “Some people think that there are only a small number of ghouls still alive today who were alive before the war, but the truth is there are actually thousands – possibly even millions – of ghouls still alive today who were alive before the war: the feral ghouls.
“Feral ghouls may have lost their minds and become nothing more than wild animals, spending centuries just mindlessly shambling about, but they were at one point normal ponies, and those ponies are still technically alive.
“Just imagine it from this guy’s perspective,” the Storyteller said, gesturing to the ghoul corpse at Buck Shot’s hooves. “Having to endure who knows how much physical trauma from the initial Megaspell attacks, feeling everything from the balefire scorching the flesh and not being allowed the courtesy of a quick death, before his mind couldn’t take it anymore and just lost itself, but even then, for the last two hundred years he was still technically alive before being put down just now; being trapped in your own body for over two centuries, no longer possessing the mental capacity to truly feel anything, but still technically alive. It’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”
Buck Shot shivered at the thought. “If I ever end up like that, then just kill me then and there so that I wouldn’t have to suffer.”
“Well, don’t worry. If you happen to become a ghoul, I’ll make sure to kill you right away.”
Buck Shot turned to face the Storyteller fully, with a raised eyebrow. “You mean if I become a feral ghoul, right?”
The Storyteller simply stared back at him silently for a few seconds before suddenly facing away again. “There is still some debate about what it is exactly that causes a ghoul to turn feral,” the Storyteller spoke up again as he continued walking along through the ravine, completely ignoring what Buck Shot just said. Buck Shot just rolled his eyes before following alongside him, along with PINK-E. “Some think that high levels of radiation is the culprit, while others think that it’s tied to a ghoul’s mental state and that isolation and no interaction with others eventually leads to the madness. If that’s the case, then it would mean that friendship is the key to avoiding a fate worse than death; very fitting in the land of Equestria.
“There are also those who think that there is no special trigger and that no matter what, all ghouls will inevitably lose their minds and go feral. Unfortunately, this theory is the most wildly believed in the Equestrian Wasteland, causing most ponies to have an instinctual distrust of ghouls; the fear that at any moment, a supposedly friendly neighbourhood ghoul could just snap and start attacking innocent civilians. This, combined with the appearance and smell of a rotting corpse, has lead to a lot of ponies to refer to ghouls as ‘Zombie Ponies’, though any non-feral ghouls tend to fire back by referring to non-ghouls as ‘Smoothskins’, showing that they can still give as good they get, and that deep down, they’re still ponies.”
“This attitude has lead to a lot racism and bigotry against ghouls, from certain individuals, and in some cases, entire settlements will even outright ban ghouls from living, entering, or even just bartering with the locals. If you ask me, this is a real shame, as one of the positive effects of becoming a ghoul is supposedly gaining immortality, or perhaps more accurately, agelessness. Ghouls have been around since the Great War ended and many have amassed quite a lot of living experience and would have access to knowledge found nowhere else in the wasteland. It would be a shame to have all that knowledge go to waste just because you’re afraid of what might possibly happen. It’s true that some ghouls have suddenly gone feral and started attacking everypony around them, but ask yourself; how many times have a normal ponies also suddenly started attacking people for no reason?”
While Buck Shot was mostly travelling with the Storyteller for protection until they reached a friendly settlement and just put up with all of his rambling, he was actually curious about one aspect of ghouls that the power armored unicorn had brought up just now. “I’ve actually always wondered; why do ghouls look like zombies? Are the actually undead?”
The Storyteller started grinning underneath his helmet, happy that Buck Shot was become enthusiastic about his stories. “Well, the answer to that question lies in an interesting topic and where all ghouls find their origins: Megaspells.
“You see, when most ponies hear Megaspells, they think of the balefire bombs that the zebras launched against Equestria, which turned our once beautiful land into the wasteland that it is today. However, the truth is much more than that. You see, Megaspells are exactly that: extremely powerful spells; spell matrixes that can be applied to any type of magic, to turn even a simple healing spell an enormous healing wave to affect multiple individuals. In fact, that’s what the very first Megaspell was.
“The zebras, however, applied their Megaspells to balefire bombs, which were a mixture of dragon fire and magic from the zebra’s own necromantic rituals. The day when hundreds of these balefire bombs fell from the sky, the dragon fire burned down the beautiful lands of Equestria, and the necromantic energy seeped into the land and the cells of every living thing, creating among a variety of new creatures, the very first ghouls.
“I’m sure that the zebras intended for the balefire bombs to simply kill off every pony in Equestria, as one of the side effects of ghoulification is halting the aging process and gaining immunity to magical radiation, and turning your enemies into immortal beings that were immune to your weapons certainly wouldn’t be of any help in a war. In fact, if the war hadn’t ended on the Final Day, I wonder how effective ghouls would have been in the fighting, but I digress.”
Buck Shot just rolled his eyes at the thought of him digressing.
“In this sense, maybe ghouls are undead, but that doesn’t change the fact that ghouls, both normal and feral are still very much alive, as I said earlier. However, like I also said earlier, balefire bombs are just one type of Megaspell. There are almost as many different types of Megaspells as there are normal spells, and every one of them that causes a physical change instead of, or in some cases, as well as, death in those affected by it creates a different type of ghoul.
“Sometimes the difference is minor. When the zebras launched their final attack on Canterlot at the end of the war, the city was protected by a powerful shield that was maintained by both Princess Celestia and Luna themselves, the zebras had to use extra powerful balefire bombs, which were laced by a deadly and corrosive pink cloud that was released on impact, which had a more damaging effect over time and quickly sapped the life of anything that got caught within it, and fused flesh to anything that it came into contact with for even a few seconds. This effect is so long lasing, that the Pink Cloud still lingers in Canterlot to this day. This slightly different Megaspell ended up creating a slightly different ghoul: Canterlot Ghouls.
“Canterlot Ghouls physically resemble normal ghouls in every way, to the point that you wouldn’t recognise a Canterlot Ghoul specifically just by meeting them. However, you would quickly discover if this was the case if you had the misfortune of having to fight one.”
Buck Shot quirked an eyebrow in response to that. “What do you mean by that?”
“Simple,” the Storyteller continued. “The longer lasting necromantic energies have seeped into their bodies and altered them even further than normal ghouls. While all ghouls carry a natural immunity to magical radiation as a side effect of their transformation, even being able to heal from the stuff, Canterlot Ghouls take this a step further, possessing an even more potent healing factor. You can riddle their bodies with bullets, but they’ll simply stand back up a moment later like nothing happened. The only sure fire way to kill a Canterlot Ghoul for good is to either chop off the head or completely disintegrate them.” He then smirked to himself underneath his helmet. “That’s not a problem for me and PINK-E, of course, but a Canterlot Ghoul could prove to be a dangerous adversary to your average wastelander, and may Celestia and Luna help you if you run into a horde of them.”
Buck Shot audibly gulped after hearing how powerful and dangerous Canterlot Ghouls could be.
The Storyteller could tell that he had made Buck Shot nervous, so he decided to continue to reassure him. “Don’t worry, though. The good news is that like the name suggests, the Megaspells that created these ghouls were only used in Canterlot, and since the old capital of Equestria is still pretty isolated to this day, thanks to the aforementioned Pink Cloud, you won’t have to worry about running into these types of ghouls unless you specifically go looking for them; and if you do, well, that’s why it’s so important to gather information: to pass it on to others so that they can be properly prepared and survive when they otherwise wouldn’t be due to a lack of crucial information.
“That’s the reason why I’m a Data Procurement Specialist: to save as many lives as possible through spreading crucial information through stories.” The Storyteller proclaimed, momentarily dropping his hammy delivery and speaking completely serious.
PINK-E also gave a mechanical whinny in agreement.
Buck Shot suddenly found himself lightly smiling, having a newfound respect for what the Storyteller did, even if he did still think he rambled a bit too much. “Yeah.” He agreed.
“However,” the power armored unicorn started up again. “As I said earlier, there are almost as many Megaspells as there normal spells, and each one could potential cause a different long term effect. The reason that normal ghouls resemble corpses is because the balefire bombs which created the vast majority of them were infused with zebra necromantic energy, so perhaps different types of Megaspells could produce different types of ghouls in anyone that could survive the initial effects.
“For example, one of Equestria’s own Megaspells used during the war utilised the power of the Sun itself and was capable of completely incinerating anything its path, permanently burning a creature’s shadow into the nearest surface. Although it’s difficult to verify, since this Megaspell was only used against the zebra homeland, half a continent away, there are stories of living shadows roaming the wasteland of the zebra lands. If these stories are true, perhaps these shadow zebras are simply another type of ghoul, just as common in the zebra lands as the ‘zombie ponies’ are in Equestria.
“In fact, Megaspells and ghouls could even predate the Great War by a large margin.” This got Buck Shot’s attention and he turned to face the Storyteller as they continued walking through the ravine. The Storyteller also turned to look Buck Shot in the eye. “Tell me, how familiar are you with the Crystal Empire?”
Buck Shot scrunched up his nose in thought. “Not very,” he responded after taking a moment to think. “Isn’t it a small country north of Equestria?”
“That’s right,” the Storyteller answered. “It’s also not surprising that you don’t know much about it. Over twelve hundred years ago, the entire Empire disappeared without a trace, only to reappear a thousand years later, along with all of its original inhabitants. However, during the war, the Empire was one of targets for the zebra’s balefire bombs, and now the location of the Empire is nothing but a smoking crater. Maybe it vanished in a similar manner to how it first disappeared, or perhaps it has been destroyed for good this time, but all that’s known for certain is that it’s not there now.
“Anyway, the Empire was located in the middle of a frozen wasteland, so the local ponies relied on a powerful artefact known as the Crystal Heart for protection against the elements. According to legends, the ponies utilised their life and love and combined it with the Crystal Heart’s power to create a powerful defensive barrier that allowed them to create a shining paradise in the middle of a frozen wasteland.
“Over time, these pony’s coats became luminous and sparkly, becoming what was known as ‘Crystal Ponies’.
“Sound familiar? Think about: a simple protection spell, amplified multiple times over by a powerful magical framework, which produced a long-lasting effect that physically altered the ponies that were caught within its range. Perhaps these Crystal Ponies were in fact the world’s first ghouls, just with coats that were shiny instead of rotting and falling off. If that’s true, then ghouls have been living alongside us since the start of pony history and we all got along just fine. I guess friendship really is magic.”
Buck Shot was now starting to smile more openly, as he felt rallied by what the Storyteller said. “Yeah,” he uttered. Facing forward again as they walked, he suddenly noticed that the walls on either side of the ravine they had been travelling through started to get closer to each other until they were only three or four pony bodies across at the end of the ravine, which was good since their group consisted of two ponies and a spritebot.
Stepping out of the ravine and once again out into the wide open space of the Equestrian Wasteland, the first thing that Buck Shot noticed was a collection of shacks about half a mile in the distance. “Is that a friendly settlement?” The scavenger pony asked the power armored unicorn next to him.
“If I know my wasteland topography right, and I do, that’s the settlement of New Appleloosa,” the Storyteller replied. “As to whether or not it’s friendly, aside from the fact that they willingly trade supplies with the slavers of Old Appleloosa, I’d say that it’s nice enough. I’ve stopped in there a few times on my own travels in the past, so you should be able to rest up well enough there, and maybe find some work as well. Of course, it also helps that it’s home to one of nicest ponies in the entire Equestrian Wasteland.”
Buck Shot was glad to hear that this was a friendly settlement, though he was also curious about that last thing that the Steel Ranger had said. “And who might that be?”
THUD
Hearing an impact to the other side of him, Buck Shot turned to see what it was, and it was, of all things, a ghoul. It was thankfully a normal, non-feral ghoul, and a mare judging from her rounded snout. Most of her mane and coat had fallen out by now, though there was still enough to see that they had originally been blonde and grey, respectively. Strangely, she was a pegasus, even though most ghouls in the Equestrian Wasteland were either unicorns, earth ponies, or zebras. Most peculiar about her, however, were her eyes, which seemed mismatched and looking in two different directions at the same time.
On Buck Shot’s other side, the Storyteller smiled underneath his power armor so much so that the scavenger was able to hear it. “Speak of the devil and she shall appear. How have you been doing, Ditzy?”
The pegasus mare smiled warmly in response. She then grabbed a chalkboard, which Buck Shot only now noticed hung around her neck, and used a piece of chalk to scribble a message on it. The message read, ‘Business is good’.
“That’s good to hear,” the Storyteller replied. “I’m still thankful for that spark battery that I picked up from you the last time I was here, and PINK-E is even more thankful.” Behind him, the pink spritebot beeped happily in response, which Ditzy replied to with another smile of her own.
The Storyteller then turned towards Buck Shot. “Allow me to introduce you; Buck Shot this is Ditzy Do: the very pony I was telling you about and the owner of Absolutely Everything! – the best delivery service in the Equestrian Wasteland. She got her tongue cut out a few decades ago, so she won’t be able to verbally respond to anything you say, but she hasn’t let something like that get her down. She’s still one of the friendliest ponies you’ll ever meet out here, and is one of the biggest redeemers for ghouls in the Wasteland.” He then turned towards Ditzy Do again. “No offense,” he apologised. “Buck Shot is currently travelling alongside me and PINK-E until we reach a safe settlement, where he will probably need to find some work to earn more caps and supplies. I was just telling him all about ghouls before you showed up. All good things, I assure you.”
Ditzy Do simply back at him once again in response, not taking offense in the slightest.
“Well then, shall we get going?” The Storyteller asked. After getting affirmative nods from Buck Shot, Ditzy Do and PINK-E, the four of them continued along towards New Appleloosa, crossing the half-mile of barren terrain in no time at all.
When they entered the town, Ditzy immediately began scribbling out another message on her chalkboard and showed it to the rest of the group. ‘I need to get back to my muffins shop’.
“Of course,” the Storyteller responded.
Ditzy Do smiled again in response. She then turned towards Buck Shot, and after a moment, she erased her message again and started writing out a new one. ‘There is a trade caravan leaving soon. You’ll probably be able to get some work with them. Talk to Calamity about signing up’.
Buck Shot read the message and then looked back up to look Ditzy in her mismatched eyes. “Thanks, Ditzy. I might just do that.”
Ditzy Do smiled in response one last time before turning around and flying off in the direction of her shop.
Now that it was just Buck Shot, the Storyteller and PINK-E once again, though now also with dozens of ponies as well as a couple of griffons in the background now that they had made it to some sort of civilisation, the scavenger turned towards the Steel Ranger and the spritebot to say his farewells.
“Listen… thanks. I know that I gave you some shit in our travels together, but I really do appreciate you and PINK-E helping me get back to civilisation safely.”
“Don’t mention it,” the Storyteller responded. “Although, I wouldn’t consider that bottle of Sparkle Cola that you sold me to be ‘shit’. It’s delicious,” he said, apparently confused by what Buck Shot meant by ‘giving him shit’.
Buck opened his mouth to respond, however, he stopped at the last moment, let it go, and laughed good-naturedly. “You know, I’m gonna miss this.” Next, he turned to face the pink spritebot. “PINK-E, I’m sorry for what I said about you when we first met. You’re alright.” He then smirked. “Now you be sure to take care of our friend here. I doubt he’ll make it far without you backing him up.”
PINK-E suddenly started blaring her siren loudly, as if doing the robotic equivalent of a laugh. A moment later, she shut off her siren and looked down at the ground, almost sombrely, and the next moment, simply floated over towards Buck Shot and leaned against him, as if she was trying to give him a hug but lacked the limbs to properly do so. Realising what she was trying to do, Buck Shot simply pat her on the top of her chassis with his hoof. She then floated back to her original position beside the Storyteller.
“So,” Buck Shot began again, facing the Storyteller once more. “I assume that you’re heading back out into the wasteland.”
“Of course. I still have my Steel Ranger duties as a Data Procurement Specialist. It’s my job to learn and categorise everything that there is to know about the wasteland, from the largest history defining event, to knowing the proper way to cook up grilled radroach meat. If there’s more to learn, I’ll be there to categorise it, and if there’s anything that I know for certain in this wasteland that we live in, is that there’s always more to learn.”
“You could always come along with me. Maybe some of the traders have interesting stories they could tell; and I’m sure that you would be of help to them as protection.”
“Steel Ranger protocol prevents me from travelling alongside outsiders in any sort of professional manner.” The Storyteller recited off from the Codex. “Besides, I doubt that I’ll find anything interesting or world changing following that trade caravan. No offense.” He quickly added.
“None taken,” Buck Shot replied with his trademark smirk. “Well, anyway, I guess this is goodbye.” With that, Buck Shot gave him one final salute before turning around and walking further into the town, whilst the Storyteller and PINK-E also turned around, walking back into the Equestrian Wasteland.
Buck Shot was only a few steps in when he suddenly realised something. “That reminds me,” he spoke up, stopping where he was and looking over his shoulder. “You never did tell me your name.”
The Storyteller also stopped and looked back, also only over his shoulder. After a short moment of silence, which was a rare thing where this power armored unicorn was concerned, he then finally spoke up again. “I’ll tell you what: the Wasteland is a big place, so I’m sure that we’ll cross paths once again. If we do, I’ll tell you my real name.”
“You really think I’ll see you and your stories again?”
“It’s always a possibility. There are so many stories out there, that it’s impossible to keep up with all of them, and some even go unfinished. However, the important thing to remember is that everyone’s got there own stories to tell, and even stories that do go unfinished are still there, ready to be passed on to whoever learns about them; what really matters is that we learn something from it regardless – and even if it’s not me, there will always be people out there to continue telling them.”
Then, unseen to everybody else, the Storyteller smiled underneath his power armor.