Fallout: Equestria - Common Ground

by FireOfTheNorth

Chapter 8: Civilization, or the Best We Have

To call Laketown a city would be too generous, but to label it as merely a settlement wouldn’t do it justice. Most settlements began with preexisting Wartime structures, around which more shelters and a defensive perimeter could be built. That was no less true here than anywhere else; Laketown had begun, in fact, with several older buildings—in this case, mostly cabins built against the lake—and had grown out from there. Multiple settlements had cropped up near each other, and as they’d grown, they evolved past being defined by their original structures and had combined into a single large settlement, one who’s only defining quality was the lake against which it was built. Most of the structures in Laketown had been built post-War, but they were also mainly of the “slap what we have together and hope it doesn’t fall over” variety. In its scope, it rivalled the Ponies’ Republic of Stalliongrad; thankfully, it was far easier to get into Laketown than the PRS.

I got plenty of stares as I entered the town, but I was getting used to the griffins of the Commonwealth finding me odd. Living beyond the Brittle Pass, none of them had probably ever even seen a pony before. I too was getting used to the wholly griffin settlements that existed out here beyond the Pleasure Coast. Hope Springs had been of the same ilk and would likely remain so for some time yet. given that their lift was broken and remnants of the cazador nest still blocked passage up the stairs. When I left Hope Springs, I’d needed to be carried back down by griffins, due to my lack of wings. At least Laketown was accessible without having to fly or climb the face of a mountain.

Since Laketown had once been multiple settlements, there was no consistent street planning going on, and I wandered around for a while before managing to find my way to one of the markets. The stalls and shops were congregated near the lake, probably making it easier to transport goods back and forth from the barges I saw docked against the ramshackle piers. The river that drained into this lake from the north (and later drained out through the south) curled its way through most of the northern Commonwealth, so this location must’ve been awfully convenient for transporting wares. As I watched a couple of the barges, I saw manufactured goods from the griffin roosts upriver being offloaded and fruits and vegetables being onloaded for the trip back up to them.

“When are we going to get some more rain, already?” I heard another griffin ask nearby as I was wrapping up my transaction at another stall.

“The weather crew’s missed the last four scheduled drizzles. It’ll be a real deluge when it does come,” another griffin replied.

“If they ever get around to doing their job and it does come,” the first griffin complained. “I’ve a mind to fly up to DS-4 and tell them off. We can’t irrigate our crops forever, or for free!”

“Maybe if we stop sendin’ ‘em, then Gideon’ll get the picture,” the other griffin said as they started to walk away. I stopped listening as the shopkeeper I’d just bought from cleared her throat in annoyance that I hadn’t moved away to let other customers have their turn.

“Sorry,” I apologized as I trotted after the two complaining griffins. The one had mentioned DS-4, the next distribution station on my list, and I needed to know more.

“That’s a pretty picture, isn’t it?” the first griffin snickered. “Grand Marshal Gideon staring down at an empty plate and chewing out the weather marshal ‘cause of it.”

“Of course, he probably wouldn’t go straight there,” the other said. “First he’d berate his chef, then the suppliers, then the barge captains, then the dockworkers, then the mayor, then the weather marshal. Down the chain and up the chain.”

“That’s business,” the first griffin huffed discontentedly.

“Excuse me,” I said as I caught up to them, and the griffins turned with annoyance that shifted into surprise upon seeing me: a pony in a bright blue jumpsuit, a yellow doctor’s coat, and a prosthetic griffin leg. They didn’t seem to know what to make of me. “I couldn’t help but overhear you saying something about DS-4 and a weather team?”

“‘Couldn’t help but overhear,’” the first griffin said under her breath. “You could’ve helped it if you hadn’t followed us. What’s it matter to you?”

“I’m headed to DS-4 myself and was curious what’s awaiting me there.”

“You’re heading somewhere but you don’t know anything about it?” the first griffin asked, cocking a feathery eyebrow.

“It’s the local base for the Weather Corps, only they haven’t been doing their jobs lately, as I’m sure you overheard,” the other griffin decided to indulge me. “You planning to go tell them off?”

“Maybe,” I replied, which seemed to surprise her. “I could at least check things out. What if something’s happened to them?”

“Well, I doubt they’ll listen, but nobody’s gonna stop you from tryin’,” the first griffin said, holding back a chuckle. “More power to you, strange pony nobody’s ever heard of.”

She had a point. If a random griffin had walked into a settlement or guard post in Equestria and tried to tell ponies off for not doing their job, the reception would be icy at best. Not to mention that there was no Radio Free Wasteland or Radio PC out here, so there was no way for these griffins to have heard DJ Pon3 or the Commonwealth Crooner hyping me up. To be fair, even that probably wouldn’t carry much weight, since my celebrity here in the Commonwealth was restricted to solving an attempted assassination in the Pleasure Coast and spreading another radio station for the griffins to listen to. I’d need something else backing me up … something the griffins at DS-4 would respect, especially since I couldn’t activate the distribution station without their permission.

“Where’s the mayor’s office?” I asked the griffins before they resumed their walk.

“The mayor’s office? You’re planning to speak to the mayor now?” one of them asked incredulously. “Well, you’ve certainly got a boldness to you, for whatever that’s worth. Head north to Jubilee Park. You can’t miss the castle.”

After quickly thanking the dumbfounded griffins, I followed their directions and headed north through Laketown. Jubilee Park was a name I recognized from the Book of Rok, and I wondered if the section I was currently in had once been known as Worrytown. As I made my way through the tangled streets of the town, the impossible-to-miss castle gradually came into view above the post-War construction. It was a very pointy castle, with lots of spires, but also much smaller than it first appeared. As I reached the entrance to Jubilee Park, I could see that it was a scaled-down version of what had possibly been a real castle in the past, study stone walls replaced with concrete wrapped around a steel frame that had begun to break off after years of abuse. A mostly demolished fence separated Jubilee Park from the rest of Laketown, but the entry arch remained, complete with a sign covered in currently unlit fluorescent lights.

It appeared this had originally been an amusement park modeled after griffin history, although how much was fact or myth was debatable, given what I’d heard from Grant at Grand Imperial about the origins of Mythologism. The “castle” was the centerpiece of the park, which stretched out into the lake on an artificially constructed peninsula. A tarnished sign hanging in the midst of overgrown greenery at the front of the castle read “Griffonstone Castle in King Grover’s Time.” I let myself in through the front door, headed up the staircase just within the entrance room, and was immediately greeted by a guard with a shotgun.

“What’s your business here?” he asked in a deep, gruff voice as he blocked my path into what looked like it had once been a giftshop.

“I need to speak to the mayor,” I told him.

“Do you have an appointment?” the griffin asked sternly. “I think I’d remember a unicorn being scheduled to meet with His Excellency.”

“No, I don’t have an appointment,” I told him, and the griffin’s eyes narrowed. “I’m willing to wait to speak with him if he has an opening, though.”

“Fine, just stay out of the way. You can sit here,” he grunted as he pointed to a chair just within the giftshop. “I’ll see if Mayor Galen has any openings for you.”

The guard seemed reluctant to leave me alone, even after I’d taken a seat, but he eventually broke eye contact and headed through a door just off the gift shop-turned reception room. There was a place set for a receptionist, but nobody occupied the spot. However, since I might be incorrectly assuming things, I got up to investigate while the guard was gone. Peering behind the counter, I spied a locked terminal and several memo pads covered in doodles. Leaving that mystery aside, I headed back to my chair.

Before I could make it, a griffin shot through a nearby window and collided with me, sending the papers he’d held in his claws flying into the air. He frantically grabbed at them with his claws before they hit the ground, and I lent my magic to gather a few near me, especially those that looked ready to flutter down the stairs. I caught a glimpse of one, whose header read “Scheduled Radio Broadcasts for the Edification of the Commonwealth,” before the griffin snatched them away. Only after he’d gathered all his papers up did he seem to realize who (or rather, what) I was.

“A pony? What are you doing here?” he asked in a reedy voice.

“I’m Doc. I’m here to speak with Mayor Galen,” I replied. This griffin seemed very jumpy, so I tried to assume a calming presence.

“A doctor? Did something happen to Mayor Galen while I was out?” the griffin asked worriedly as he hurried around behind the reception counter and deposited his papers.

“No, only my name is Doc,” I tried to reassure him.

“Oh, oh, of course,” he said as he tried to smooth the chestnut-colored feathers on his head only to make them stick out more (though I had no idea what he meant by ‘of course’). “I’m Gareth, Mayor Galen’s aide. Did you make an appointment with the mayor to speak with him?”

“No, but I’m waiting,” I told Gareth, and he looked up at me in confusion. “I wanted to speak with him about DS-4 and the weather team there.”

“Oh, that’s outside the mayor’s jurisdiction,” Gareth said definitively. “You’ll need to speak with the weather captain in Brinkfall about that. He’s in charge of the Weather Corps in the area, including the base at DS-4.”

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Absolutely!” Gareth replied, “It’s-it’s the roosts’ job to maintain the Weather Corps and provide a place for local weather captains to administrate. Laketown is-is no roost. We have no marshal on the Council and no control over the weather.”

“Oh. Okay, then,” I said disappointedly. “Sorry for wasting your time.”

“I told you to stay put!” the guard bellowed as he returned and saw me out of my chair. “The mayor has no openings for you.”

“I was just leaving, actually,” I told him, but he insisted on escorting me out anyway.

Distribution Station 4, unlike the previous stations I’d been to, was located high up in the mountains. It took me a week of travel from Laketown once I’d skirted the lake, crossed the valley, and found a way up and through the range. Luckily, some paths still remained from when supplies had to be brought to the station during its construction and operation, and I was able to find my way among the peaks that rose continually higher. The roost of Brinkfall was nearby but farther to the north, and it didn’t make much sense to go there first and then backtrack to DS-4. If I had to get permission from the Brinkfall weather captain before the team at the station would let me reactivate it, then I’d do it. However, there was no point making that trip before I’d even tried approaching my main goal directly.

As it turned out, I wouldn’t need to get permission. I was now pretty confident the weather team was no longer at DS-4, at least in a living capacity. As I walked up the access stairs, I spotted griffin bodies hanging from the edge of the platform after being cruelly eviscerated—typical raider decoration. I figured the contacts FITS was picking up above me were raiders, not another weather team.

My fears were confirmed once I reached the top. Griffins in brutal armor lounged around burning barrels. One was spray-painting Arise upon a wall. A flag flew from one of the antennas, and I remembered seeing one like it in Laketown: eleven horizontal stripes of different colors, one for each of the eleven roosts. This flag had a cloud over the stripes, though that was hard to see through the blood and viscera the raiders had used to deface it, painting the Weather Corps flag with the innards of the Weather Corps’ members.

I checked my ammunition before formulating a plan. I didn’t know if I’d have enough to fight all the raiders here, not after using up some of what I’d restocked in Laketown fighting beasts and other raiders along the way. The smart thing would be to head to Brinkfall and have them send a force down to deal with this, but I’d never been much for that approach. That plan was ruined anyway when one of the raiders squinted in my direction. A second later, he pointed toward me as he yelled something to his comrades.

The marks on FITS flipped to hostile, and the fight was on. Immediately casting ERSaTS to buy a little extra time, I pointed my battle rifle at a fuel tanker (whose presence up here, quite frankly, had me stumped). It took a few shots to pierce it but then it ignited, exploding in a fireball that consumed all the raiders in its vicinity. Those on the fringes of the fireball were knocked over by the blast, and those between were set on fire and began frantically trying to put themselves out.

Shots rang out behind me as I kept on the move, firing back at the staggered griffins with my battle rifle. FITS told me there weren’t many inside the main building of the station, so I headed there. A raider was trying to run out, and we met in the doorway. Scuffling ensued as we both tried to aim our respective weapons at each other, her with pistol and I with my battle rifle. I reached out and grabbed her pistol arm, my prosthetic claws closing tight around it, and she let go of my battle rifle to claw at my face with her other arm. I got my rifle in against her throat and fired off a burst, but not before she managed to rake her claws across my face. She missed my eye, fortunately; but hot, salty blood began to flow down into it, obscuring half my vision.

As bullets nipped at my tail, I switched to my shotgun and continued into the station. There were two raiders in wait, one on each side of the entrance. As I ducked down, I fired to the left and tossed a grenade to the right. The raider hit by the grenade went flying backwards, right into another raider trying to come at me, and I rushed over to fire my shotgun repeatedly into them.

One raider managed to get in behind me, and I turned around and fired an ERSaTS-aided shot between her eyes, dropping her in the doorway and blocking the way to others. I ran to a side door and exited the main compound. Another raider had thought to cut around and flank me, and she came at me with a knife. She managed to catch the blade beneath my battle rifle’s scope and flicked it out of my magical grasp before knocking me to the floor. I tried to hold her back with a hoof and her blade with my claws, but she kept pushing it down toward me. Quickly, I released her knife and hit her arm with my foreleg, causing the blade to jab down into my shoulder instead of my jugular. I sank my claws into the feathers at the back of her head and held on until I could deploy my PipBeak’s blade into her throat.

The shouts of raiders grew nearer, and I pushed her off before pulling the blade from my shoulder and slapping an enchanted bandage on it. The raiders were mostly coming through the main compound, and I tossed a grenade through the door as soon as it opened. With a very wet and unpleasant noise, a swath of pips disappeared from FITS.

I rushed back around to the main open area of the station and shooting bursts at the raiders still clustered there, before turning back to where those within the main building were retreating. An assault rifle was lying nearby, and I slotted a magazine in before firing it at the raiders as they emerged. The last of them felled, I spun around, keeping an eye on FITS to detect any I might’ve missed.

There was one near the edge of the platform, but it wasn’t just a raider alone that was facing me. A giant bipedal machine was squatted near the station’s lift, and it roared to life and stood up as I turned and stared, smoke billowing from stacks on its back. At least now I knew why the raiders had brought a fuel tanker up here. The main body of the machine had a cockpit, where a raider now sat pressing buttons and pulling levers that caused the machine to move forward and raise miniguns mounted on stubby arms.

I took cover behind a sizeable stack of ammo crates as the miniguns let loose. Bullets tore through the crates like they were made of cardboard, shredding them in seconds; but there were just enough for me to survive the onslaught until the guns overheated and the firing stopped momentarily. Casting ERSaTS, I faced the mech down and fired my battle rifle directly at the cockpit. The glass, however, was too hardened to allow my shots to do more than scratch the surface.

I ran for the sturdier shelter of a building as the miniguns started up again, and I managed to make it in time. (The end of my coat wasn’t so lucky; bullets had ripped through and torn the end to shreds.) I could track the machine on FITS, so I knew it was advancing toward me; unfortunately, the pilot also seemed to have some version of FITS onboard, and she turned around the moment I came close to looping the building and attacking it from behind. Hastily aborting that plan, I ducked into the building and looked at what resources were inside.

The griffin was too impatient to let me hide forever and began to fire the minigun again, but the structure was sturdy enough to take a pounding for a while before I would be in trouble. This building had once been living quarters, and I could see places where either the crew (when DS-4 had been operational) or the weather team stationed here had made some changes to give it a homey touch: treasured photos affixed to the walls and claw-knit blankets on the beds. Most of those things had been defiled by the current barbaric occupants, but still, they might be redeemable someday. Like most raiders, these had liked to have all their weapons and ammunition out where they could see it, but they’d also stashed a few choice pieces in here. There was a stack of single-use rocket launchers, and I grabbed a couple and slung them over my back before exiting the building.

I came out through the back, and the mech pilot moved to check me as she realized what was going on. As soon as the machine came in sight, I fired the rocket. Unguided or not, the projectile moved too quickly for the clanky mech to get out of the way. The rocket struck the cockpit’s canopy, sending cracks through the glass but leaving the pilot unharmed. As I fired my second rocket, the mech prepared to fire its miniguns at me. The rocket veered off course in midair and struck a shoulder, which didn’t appear to impair the mech at all.

With the miniguns spinning up, I took the chance that my first strike had been enough and cast ERSaTS. I peered down the scope of my battle rifle at the raider in her cockpit and fired. My first burst shattered the glass along the cracks the rocket had produced. My second burst struck true, killing the pilot and stopping the miniguns before they fired. My third and fourth bursts were unnecessary, but I couldn't be sure of that until after I’d fired them.

With the last of the raiders neutralized, I walked through the carnage, plugging my nose against the smell of burned flesh and feathers, and entered the main compound. Looking at the results of my fight, the Weather Corps was going to have to do a lot of cleaning and renovation to make this place habitable again. The control room was locked, but I managed to hack in and activate the station. Another chain in the distribution stations link had been added, and I’d cleared out the station for the Weather Corps. They’d certainly have reason to be grateful when I reported this in Brinkfall.

Brinkfall was only a few days travel away from the distribution station. Even so, it was no walk in the park; the route was along treacherous paths high in the mountains, and I encountered several strange and vicious birds along the way. Brinkfall was the first real roost I’d seen in the Griffin Commonwealth, and it was certainly something to behold. While nowhere near the size of Equestrian cities like Vanhoover or Stalliongrad, it was a city that had stood throughout the War and hadn’t been destroyed by megaspells. It still bore signs of decay, but that was due to time and neglect instead of a sudden blast of destructive magic. The mountain upon which Brinkfall was built had one side that fell away vertically, forming a precarious cliff; this was where the griffins had chosen to place a city, albeit one that stretched back and up toward the peak. Still, I couldn’t imagine who’d actually want to live on the cliff edge, especially considering how some pieces had fallen away over the years and left some buildings hanging out over the abyss.

The city was impressive from a distance, and it still was once I’d entered it and gotten a closer look. However, it wasn’t hard to see that the roost was obviously diminished from its past self. Though it hadn’t been hit by a megaspell, many griffins had ridden out the early post-War years in Lockboxes, only emerging later to reinhabit and repopulate their cities; and recovery appeared to be an ongoing process.

If I’d felt like an outsider in Laketown, I felt it even more so here. There wasn’t a single griffin I passed on the streets that didn’t stop and stare at me. Had they ever seen a pony in their roost, high up in the mountains? I doubted it—which made me proud and nervous at the same time. What would they make of me? How would they react?

At the very least, they were willing to take my caps, and I purchased a room for the night at an old hotel before heading out to search for the Weather Corps’ offices. It wasn’t all that hard to find, once I asked for directions, and I discovered that my destination was a converted old restaurant. Out front hung a non-defaced flag of the Weather Corps, assuring me that I was in the right place.

When I tried the door, it didn’t budge. Peering through the glass, I could make out a griffin sitting inside, leaned back in her chair, paws up on her desk and magazine in her claws. I banged on the glass to get her attention, but she just made a rude gesture in my direction without even looking up. I continued to bang insistently, and she continued to make foul signs. She eventually became too annoyed to ignore me and looked up. She did a double take before frowning and setting her magazine down.

“You lost?” she asked as she unlocked the door and opened it, standing in the doorway to block my entrance. “I don’t know how you flew in here, but you should scram.”

“Are you Brinkfall’s weather captain?” I asked.

“No, I’m Princess Celestia,” she replied sarcastically, and it irked me to hear her use the Goddess’s name so flippantly. “Weather captain’s out.”

“Do you know where?” I asked in annoyance.

“None of my business,” she replied. “Or yours, for that matter.”

“Do you know when they’ll be back?” I asked.

“Nope.”

“Do you know anything?”

“Well, nothing you’d be interested in hearing, I’d wager,” she replied with a smirk.

“I just wanted to report that your base at DS-4 was overtaken by raiders, and I killed them all for you,” I said.

“Is that so?” the griffin replied without a hint of sincerity in her voice. “I’ll be sure to pass it on to the boss.”

This conversation wasn’t going anywhere, so I decided to let the snarky griffin alone and search for the weather captain myself; I certainly didn’t trust to her to bring the news to them. She’d been wearing a sky-blue uniform, so I started searching the city for anygriffin wearing the same uniform. Either I’d find the weather captain, or I’d run into another member of the Weather Corps who might be genuinely helpful.

Just as I started to consider heading back to the hotel and trying the Weather Corps offices again tomorrow, my wandering finally paid off. Walking past yet another alley, I spotted that distinct shade of sky blue in the distance at the last second. I immediately backtracked and headed down the alley. As I approached my quarry, I could hear voices and realized there were two griffins standing in the darkness.

“We’re relying on total mist coverage to make the hit. You’ve got everything in position, yes?” one of the griffins asked, a dark cloak obscuring their face.

“Of course … unless the von Hunt’s paid me more than you have to keep the skies clear,” the uniformed griffin said.

“Have they?” the other griffin grumbled.

I had the feeling I wasn’t supposed to be hearing this and ducked down behind a trash bin.

“Purely theoretical, mind you,” the uniformed griffin said as he waved his claws nonchalantly. “Remember, paying the Weather Corps for favorable conditions is a criminal act.”

“So you keep telling me,” the other griffin grumbled, and he produced a sack from within his cloak. It clinked like coins when he passed it over.

“Hmm, yes, I think it’ll be a very foggy morning tomorrow,” the uniformed griffin said as he weighed the sack in a claw.

“Good to hear, and … contact me if there are any more … negotiations,” the other griffin said before stalking off.

The uniformed griffin opened the sack and counted the money within before tucking it into a pouch at his side.

“You there,” he called in my direction. “Come on out.”

Hesitantly, I emerged from behind the trash bin, keeping an eye on FITS to make sure he didn’t turn hostile.

“A pony, eh? Now, I never would’ve expected that. What are you doing here?” he asked. “Come to spy on me for the von Hunts? Or maybe the Callagas?”

“No, I don’t know anything about that,” I professed my innocence. “Are you Brinkfall’s weather captain?”

“That’s right; Captain Gottlieb. Why do you want to know?” he asked as he adjusted his hat.

“I … wanted to report to you that the weather team at DS-4 was wiped out by raiders, but I managed to kill the raiders there,” I said. To be honest, I was surprised at how nonchalant he was being, considering he probably thought I’d caught him engaging in corruption.

“Interesting,” Gottlieb said, rubbing his beak. “Well, good on you, I guess. I’ll send another team out to take their place, soon as I can get approval from the Weather Marshal.”

“Oh, good. Is … is that it?” I asked.

“Expecting some kind of reward?” he asked mockingly. (I had been, in fact.) “Or maybe you think you can blackmail me. How much did you hear?”

“Well …”

“Better question,” Gottlieb said, snapping his claws together. “Are you going to remember anything you overheard going on in this alley?”

“No,” I said, uncomfortably. What was I supposed to do? If I reported him, he’d probably have me thrown off the edge of Brinkfall.

“You took out an entire gang of raiders because they’d killed griffins you never even met,” Gottlieb said thoughtfully. “I think you’re a do-gooder, which means you probably won’t be able to keep your mouth shut. Guards!”

“What are you doing?” I asked as I heard flapping coming from the main street in answer to the weather captain’s call.

“Listen, don’t do anything stupid,” Gottlieb said as he leaned in close. “Keep your mouth shut and you won’t be harmed. I just need to put you on ice until things boil over.”

Two griffins arrived, wearing security armor and holding shotguns in their claws.

“Detain this pony. Lock him up for twenty-four hours, have him cool his heel—hooves,” Gottlieb commanded as he turned away.

“Yes, sir,” one of the guards said as the other restrained and disarmed me. Gottlieb walked away into the darkness, his sky-blue uniform vanishing in the gloom.

Level Up
New Perk: Big Game Hunter – You get a bonus to damage in all types of combat when fighting an animal larger than yourself.
New Quest: Lockup – Wait out your prison stay, then get out of Brinkfall before Gottlieb decides prison wasn’t enough.
Barter +3 (100)
Explosives +1 (108)
Medicine +2 (118)
Science +1 (102)
Small Guns +4 (115)
Sneak +2 (108)
Speech +1 (104)
Survival +5 (47)
Unarmed +1 (90)