Chapter Fifteen: Interlude by the Sea
“Before we get back to the music, I want to send out a personal heart-felt thanks to my l-ovely listeners out there, and to the ones who bring me the news. You truly are the ones who make it happen. And now, thanks to Doc Silverarm, that’s even truer than before. I want to reach each and ev-er-y one of you out there in the Commonwealth, so if you have some news you want reported or something you want to hear from yours t-ruly, get it to Pleasure Coast any way you can. This is the Commonwealth Crooner, here for your l-istening p-leasure. And now, back to what you’ve all been waiting for: the music.”
The Commonwealth Crooner didn’t seem to resent that I’d introduced Radio Free Wasteland as competition to his own station. I wasn’t sure if that was because he was so overjoyed to be broadcasting to half the Commonwealth instead of just one city, or because Radio Free Wasteland wasn’t really competition. The news from the Equestrian Wasteland could be interesting and novel, but that was because it was a foreign land; the news there meant nothing to the griffins living here. Sage could see everything that happened in Equestria via the Single Pony Project towers, but they didn't reach the Griffin Commonwealth, so she couldn’t report on anything happening here. The Crooner, with his ad hoc system of volunteer reporters, had a better vision of what was happening in this land than DJ Pon3 ever would.
It had been strange at first, living in the Pleasure Coast again after spending so much time traveling through the Commonwealth’s interior, but I adjusted. Summer Sunrise was surprised to see me return to his clinic, but he let me sleep there again (for a modest rent). I settled into practicing medicine, doing alchemistry, and taking odd repair job to earn caps as I looked for a more permanent residence. I had my eye on a couple places: one was on the boardwalk, though I’d have to ingest Rad-X and RadAway daily if I lived over the water; and the other on the bluffs to the north, overlooking the sea in the direction of Equestria. I had enough caps saved up to get one; the only thing left was a decision. I was contemplating the matter when the door to the Hope Drive Clinic swung open and a unicorn ghoul trotted in.
“Doc Silverarm,” she croaked as I recollected her as the ghoul that had previously fetched me on behalf of then-Mayor Gastón Delgado, “Gloria Delgado requests your presence at Le Grand Resorte at your earliest convenience.”
“Thank you,” I told her. “I can find my own way there.”
As she briskly left, I considered what the leader of the Sunset Strip Dragons could possibly want with me. Perhaps she desired details about my duels in Moonraze, or she wanted me to compete in the fights at Le Grande Resorte—something I wasn’t eager to do after my experiences in said duels. There was one thing I did know: it wasn’t wise to keep the head of one of the Three Families waiting.
After packing up and yelling to Sumer Sunrise that I was headed out, I left for Le Grande Resorte. Despite the unity that the Family and the Sunset Strip Dragons had shown against the Immortals during the last mayoral election, tensions seemed to be high along the border between the two territories. Members of each eyed each other warily across the street that divided the central city, and I quickly detoured into Dragon territory before I got embroiled in a gang war. Le Grande Resorte was exactly as I remembered it: a getaway that served brutality and hedonism to a sensation-starved clientele.
Upon my arrival, I was led up to the sitting room where I’d first met Mayor Delgado. The room was now occupied by his daughter. I’d seen her only once before, at the secret meeting with Family Head—now Mayor—Gerald to expose the Immortals’ attempted coup. She’d changed her look since then. To appear as a more respectable businessgriffin, she’d traded in her studded black leather for a suit, albeit one with plenteous silver buttons that weren’t a far stretch from studs.
“You came quickly. Good,” she commented as she put down the book she’d been reading. “Would you say you’re familiar with fighting, Doc?”
“I suppose I would,” I said. “I’ve done plenty of fighting, whether to survive or to defeat raiders, both in the Equestrian Wasteland and now here in the Griffin Commonwealth. I don’t really have any interest in pit fighting, though, unless I’m truly desperate.”
“That’s not why I invited you here,” Gloria said before hesitating. “Well, not exactly. I did invite you here to talk about pit fighting, but not about you entering as a competitor. I never did reward you for solving my father’s assassination. As a means of doing so, I want to offer you a job.”
“I’m listening.”
“It’s an important job,” Gloria began. “In three days, there will be a celebration here for the two-quarter anniversary of when I became the boss. To honor the occasion, the Whip will fight her two hundredth—and final—fight in the pit. I want you to find a worthy opponent so that this match will be one to remember.”
I’d seen the Whip in action, and she was a fearsome fighter. It was during her 199th fight that Mayor Delgado had been assassinated, and in the confusion afterwards with electoral fighting, her 200th fight had never happened. Now, it seemed, the Sunset Strip Dragons had found an appropriate reason to hold that momentous fight.
“Do you think you’re up to the task?” Gloria asked me.
“I promise I will do everything I can,” I said. Though I hadn’t been around to witness the Whip’s first 197 fights, like most of the residents of the Pleasure Coast, I was eager to see her in action again. If this was to be her last fight, I had to make it a good one.
***
As proficient as I was in combat, I had no knowledge of pit fighting culture or the local roster outside of the Whip, so I began my search by seeking out pit fighters throughout the city. Bloodsport was a common local pastime, so I visited places other than Le Grande Resorte. I spoke to griffins and ponies alike, both living and ghoulish, seeking a worthy opponent for the Whip. One name kept coming up as I sought out the best fighter: Sebastian the Bull.
Sebastian lived in isolation in a half-sunken ship off the coast and didn’t like to be disturbed. Apparently he shot at any approaching ships as soon as he heard their engines, so I needed a better way to reach him. The Library of Arcana held a potential solution, and I memorized a new spell from one of its tomes before heading out to Sebastian’s island. I could make out the outline of it as I stood on the shore, and I cast the spell before tentatively outstretching a hoof. To my great relief, the spell did exactly what is promised, and my hoof didn’t pass through the water. My PipBuck clicked as I stepped out onto the waves, but I didn’t fall through. After a few more steps, I began to overcome my fear of sinking and I settled into a rhythm as I walked across the sea toward my destination.
As the sunken ship loomed up ahead of me, I spotted Sebastian seated on one side, fishing pole in hand. Sebastian was a minotaur, the only one the residents of the Pleasure Coast had seen since the megaspells had fallen. Sebastian was also a ghoul, though he looked less decayed than most of the ghouls I’d known. His hair was all gone and it was possible to see through his skin in some places where it had been cut and stretched away, but he was still mostly encased in it, though it was now tough and leathery. He looked in my direction as I approached but seemed not to have noticed me. A moment later, his head swiftly snapped back to stare me down incredulously.
“What are you doing out here?” he shouted to me before pointing to the side of the ship. “Can’t you read?”
The ship was covered in crudely painted warnings to stay away on penalty of death.
“You’re Sebastian the Bull?” I asked, though the answer was obvious.
“What do you think?” Sebastian gave my question the respect it deserved as he set his fishing rod down and picked up a shotgun.
“Wait!” I entreated. “I just want to talk.”
“About what?” Sebastian asked suspiciously.
“You used to be a pit fighter,” I said. “I hear you were the best.”
“Undefeated in five hundred fights,” he said morosely, “Do you think you’re the one to finally kill me, then? I don’t see it.”
“I don’t intend to fight you at all,” I said quickly, hopefully before he jumped to any conclusions. “I was sent to find a worthy opponent for the Whip.”
“Never heard of them. How good are they?” Sebastian asked bluntly.
“One hundred ninety-nine fights undefeated. Her two hundredth fight will be her last.”
“Last?” Sebastian said, cocking a nonexistent eyebrow; I sensed I’d gotten his full attention. “Why?”
“I wasn’t told,” I replied.
“Does she seek death?” Sebastian asked.
“Not that I know of,” I said, before carefully considering my next words. “Do you?”
“I do,” Sebastian answered plainly. “I’ve lived too long, but in five hundred fights I could not find anyone able to give me what I desired, so I resigned myself to isolation—and to awaken one day with my mind no longer my own. Can the Whip give me what I seek?”
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “She must be the greatest fighter Pleasure Coast has seen since you, but I’ve never seen you fight.”
“When is the fight to be held?” Sebastian asked after thinking for a long time.
“In two days, at Le Grande Resorte.”
“I will be there,” Sebastian said with conviction. “This fight will be my last, one way or another.”
***
In two days, Le Grande Resorte was packed fit to burst. The sky above the arena was nearly blotted out by flying griffins, and the courtyard lights had been turned on even though it was midday. Because I had helped arrange the fight, I was given a spot in the gallery overlooking the courtyard, and security griffins made sure the flying onlookers wouldn’t spoil views from that angle. The day had been filled with fights already in celebration of Gloria Delgado’s ascension, but it was obvious that everyone was waiting for this final fight. That meant things got a little rowdy when there was some delay after the previous bout. I tried to suss out what the holdup was and spotted that Gloria’s box had been abandoned. The Whip’s last fight had been meant to provide the greatest part of her celebration, and the fight organizers didn’t want to go ahead until she was present to witness it, even though the crowd was growing restless.
Boos and hisses changed quickly to cheers and hollers as the Whip appeared unannounced in her raider-esque armor and flew to the arena. The organizers tried to stop her, but she paid them no heed and entered the arena anyway. The announcer’s microphone screeched to life, and they spoke with surprised and uncertain words before raising the tone.
“And now, the fight you’ve all been waiting for, to cap off the celebration of Gloria Delgado’s first two quarters of prosperous leadership. We have for you today the long-awaited two-hundredth fight of Le Grande Resorte’s favorite fighter: The Whip!”
Deafening cheers went up as the Whip uncoiled her favored weapon and swiped it around in style.
“Facing her, a long-missed face, a veteran of five hundred fights! Give it up for Sebastiaaaaaaaan the Buuuuuuuull!”
The crowd cheered only slightly less passionately for the minotaur as he stepped into the arena calmly. Sebastian had clad himself in assorted plates of armor that would protect him well from the Whip’s attacks, but restricted his vision to a single slit. Upon his shoulder he carried a sword so massive, it stretched the definition of the word. It was more like a long, heavy plate of iron with sharpened edges attached to a handle. Yet, he seemed to have no trouble carrying it or moving in his armor. The two opponents stood at opposite ends of the repurposed swimming pool and stared each other down.
“Ready!” the announcer called when they couldn’t delay any longer. “Fight!”
Both fighters moved with alarming speed. Sebastian ran straight at the Whip, sword trailing behind him, while she jumped into the air, her wings to propelling her, and flicked her bladed whip so that it snapped back and forth. The Whip struck first as the two of them passed, striking out with her weapon, but Sebastian pulled his sword up with lightning quickness and the whip bounced off. The two spun to face each other as their momentum continued to pull them away, and the Whip struck again. This time, her whip wrapped around Sebastian’s sword, the cable at its core safe from being cut by even such an impressive weapon. She tried to pull the sword away to expose the minotaur, but Sebastian had the strength advantage and yanked his sword backwards, tearing the whip from his opponent's claws.
As her whip clattered behind Sebastian, the Whip charged toward him, aiming for his legs. He brought his sword down in a heavy blow. It would have split the griffin in two had her attack not been a feint, and she nimbly propelled herself upward and ran across the sword’s blade. As she jumped over Sebastian, his blade already moving for her, the Whip kicked him in the back of his helm with a hindpaw, and he tipped forward. By the time she’d swooped down and snatched her whip back up, the minotaur had already recovered and was facing her down again.
Sebastian approached the Whip, keeping his sword ahead and ready to cut her off if she tried to fly around him. Space in the arena wasn’t terribly cramped, though, and the Whip went for the flanking attempt. Sebastian ran in her direction and looked able to cut her off, until she snapped her whip around his sword again. He attempted to repeat his disarming maneuver, but her whip wasn’t as entangled this time and she easily pulled it away as she flew past the minotaur. She swung the whip back at Sebastian from behind as she passed him, and it wrapped around his right leg before pulling free with a grating hiss of blades on metal.
Sebastian swung his sword around in a circle, and the Whip quickly closed her wings and dropped to the ground to avoid being beheaded. She ran along the ground before launching back into the air and swooping over Sebastian. He swung up with his sword, easily able to reach her with his height and the length of the blade combined. The Whip struck down and wrapped her whip around his head, which proved to be enough of a distraction that she didn’t get hit by the bladed edge of the sword. She went flying as the flat slammed into her, surely breaking some ribs but not bisecting her.
The two fighters circled, completely dead to the cheering fans surrounding them. The Whip lashed out and Sebastian blocked with his sword, though she flicked her whip down at the last moment so the whip wrapped around not only the blade, but also Sebastian’s armored wrist. The two danced around for several long minutes, feeling each other out more comprehensively now that the fight hadn’t ended at its very beginning. They kept striking at each other, but neither was able to land a definitive blow.
I started to notice a pattern in the fight now, even though it initially seemed random. The Whip was keeping her distance but had still taken a few more cuts and hits. (Nothing that would seriously cripple her, though, after she’d been hit with the flat of the blade.) At first glance, her whip attacks only seemed to be probing Sebastian’s defenses or keeping him at bay; some of them were just that, but many of her strikes were carefully calculated. When Sebastian was standing still, I noticed (with the aid of my binoculars) that the blades on her whip had broken some of the links holding his armor together in key places. The minotaur’s flesh remained unscathed, but that was about to change.
As Sebastian swung at the Whip, clipping a wing, she swooped down and wrapped her whip around his ankle. When she pulled it free, dodging another big swing of the minotaur’s sword, the last few links holding the plates there in place snapped … and the armor fell away. The remaining blades on the whip shredded Sebastian’s ankle, slicing through flesh and tendons and cutting into bone, and Sebastian staggered to a knee.
He continued to put up a fight as the Whip harried him, spinning on his knee and his good leg as he deflected more whip strikes, but he was now inarguably on the defensive. The Whip went for his sword arm next, wrapping her whip around his wrist and using the same trick she had on his ankle. Links snapped, plates fell away, and Sebastian’s hand released the sword as it went dead. As she spun her whip around at him again, he blocked his head with his good arm, whose armor weathered the attack without breaking this time.
The Whip spun around Sebastian, and he reached out for her vainly as she turned. She got behind him and grabbed for his helm with one claw while dragging her whip along behind her with the other, snapping the links holding the helm in place. Sebastian got ahold of her then and crushed a hindleg in his gauntleted grip before throwing her across the arena with his helm still in her claws.
Sebastian turned and reached for his fallen sword with his good hand, staggering upon his ruined ankle, but the Whip had miraculously recovered and aimed her whip at the minotaur. The coils wrapped around his throat and Sebastian froze. I couldn’t hear anything but the screams and cheers from the crown, but I could see Sebastian mouth “Do it.” And the Whip obliged. With a yank on her whip, Sebastian’s neck was shredded. His head fell to the ground, with his body following shortly after it.
The crowd continued to yell and cheer so loudly that even when the announcer tried to announce the Whip’s victory, their voice could not be heard. The Whip flicked her weapon violently to throw off the bits of Sebastian still attached to it, and the crowd’s frenzy only grew. The Whip coiled up her infamous weapon before stepping away from Sebastian’s corpse and flying up to the arena’s exit. From there she flew to stand atop the arena cage, where everyone could see her clearly, and did something the Whip had never done in her past 199 fights.
Moving tenderly to avoid exacerbating the injuries she sustained, she reached up for her helmet. A hush fell over the crowd as their favorite fighter, who’d never spoken or revealed herself, pulled her helmet away from sweat-soaked feathers, revealing Gloria Delgado. There was a momentary pause before cheering broke out even louder than before, something I hadn’t thought possible until that moment.
***
Things soon settled back into a regular rhythm in the Pleasure Coast. Random jobs kept me busy until I purchased a place to stay in the northern heights. It felt strange to have somewhere of my own to live and go back to every day. In the Equestrian Wasteland, I’d had homes in major settlements, but they’d largely been used as brief rest stops during my travels. I still had the itch to keep wandering here in the Griffin Commonwealth, even though it’d be much easier both on my life and the possibility of reuniting with Sage if I stayed put. Summer Sunrise hired me on as a personal assistant, so I had a steady source of income even if there were no jobs that needed me, not that that ever seemed likely. Maybe it was that I sought them out, but I rarely had truly empty days.
A couple weeks after the Whip’s last fight, Summer Sunrise and I headed to the outskirts of the Pleasure Coast, at the behest of Mayor von Griff, to attend to scavengers recently settled there. I was in high spirits and didn’t think anything could bring me down. The Red Harvest had arrived the day before, and amidst the flurry of activity as griffins rushed to do business with the zebra ghouls, Captain Zaliski found a way to get a message to me from Equestria. The crew had managed to establish contact in Manehattan with a few ponies who hadn’t shot at them on sight upon discovering they were zebra ghouls, who’d in turn brought news to Tenpony Tower. Just as they were preparing to set sail back across the Celestia Sea, Violet Night had come herself to speak with them on behalf of Sage. She was overjoyed to hear that I was still alive after I’d vanished from her sight several years earlier, and she promised to keep somepony on the lookout for the Red Harvest so we could continue to communicate. Sage had also let me know that she was looking for somepony to take over as DJ Pon3 for her and had several candidates in mind that she could train. Before the Red Harvest left the harbor, I sent a letter back for Sage to be delivered whenever they next visited Manahattan, informing her of my adventures in the interior of the Commonwealth and that I could now hear her on the radio.
Summer Sunrise, on the other hoof, was not in a very good mood. He saw our mission as pointless and kept complaining that the scavengers didn’t accept medical attention from anyone but their “medicine-hens.” He was sure we’d be turned away quite rudely, but we went anyway because the mayor had offered a hefty reward to for even making the attempt. Summer Sunrise was willing to make a fat stack of caps for doing nothing more than being yelled at, and I wasn’t in the mood to disagree. Perhaps, given my previous dealings with the scavengers, they’d even allow us to help. The reason the mayor wanted our assistance was because there was a bit of a situation outside of the Pleasure Coast. Scavengers had turned up in unprecedented numbers, and even a cursory glance showed that many of them were injured. They’d been fighting something out in the wastes and had come to the Coast for shelter—something the mayor wasn’t too keen on. He wanted them gone, and the best chance to make that happen would be treating their wounds.
The scavenger camps stretched out around the edge of the Pleasure Coast, a vast city of tents and lean-tos. Flags marked out the territories of each clan; they mostly kept to themselves, but I could see some communication between them, made necessary by the crisis they were all facing. Most clans behaved exactly as Summer Sunrise had expected. Some clans had a distinct hatred for ghouls, and whenever Summer knew of one, he always sent me in to inquire alone first. He didn’t know all of them, unfortunately, and we were driven away by threats more than once. It wasn’t just ghoul-hatred, though; the scavengers were staunchly protective of their traditions, and some drove us off simply for offering to stand in the place of their medicine-hens.
There was, however, one clan that did allow us to treat them. They had lost all their medicine-hens and had no family ties to any of the clans who could spare theirs, so they were willing to accept aid if it meant saving the lives of their members, even if that aid came from two ponies. They were called the Dune Riders, and they had been savaged viciously. According to them, they had lost nearly two-thirds of their number in an initial attack they were hesitant to talk about, and had lost even more as they limped back to the Pleasure Coast seeking aid. I couldn’t imagine what could have done such a thing in the scavengers’ home territory … until I saw one of their vehicles that hadn’t been covered in tarps while it was being repaired.
“What did that?” I asked, gesturing to the damage as I treated Erish, a member of the clan.
“My road-beast is badly injured,” she stated and winced as I stitched up her leg. “Another beast is to blame, untamed and with no connection to the road.”
“It flew?” I asked in surprise.
“No, not of the sky, but no … connection to the road,” she said as she pointed at her vehicle’s wheels.
“What did it look like?” I asked.
“It was tall. Two legs, four legs, hard to say. Many—it must have been many,” Erish said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself. “Many attacked us with claws and firearms and hexes.”
“A Dog of War,” I said, and Erish looked at me uncomprehendingly.
I’d seen claw marks like those on the vehicle before, and the injuries we’d seen matched the capabilities of Dogs of War. I found it hard to believe that one Dog had done the damage that all the scavengers were suffering from, but it wasn’t impossible. Why would Dogs of War be attacking them? What were they protecting out in the wastes? Had a scavenger killed one and experienced their wrath like Greta’s Grenadiers? I coudln’t say. There was very little I really understood about the Dogs of War. All I knew was that they protected robotics networks and they were probably made by RoBronco.
“RoBronco?” Summer Sunrise asked, and I realized at some point I’d begun thinking aloud.
“Sorry, I was just wondering how something from RoBronco ended up here in the Commonwealth, on the wrong side of the sea,” I explained.
“Coulda been here all along, y’know,” Summer Sunrise said as he wrapped fresh bandages around a griffin’s head. “RoBronco did at least try t’ sell t’ the Commonwealth, though they weren’t very successful in competin’ with griffin robotics. More likely I’d guess’d be that it came from th’ shippin’ yards at Castoway or one’a the RoBronco factories down in the Iron Valley.”
“The Iron Valley?” I asked, hopefully.
“Yeah. Down south, the griffins let all kindsa companies set up shop, not like in the north. I’m sure there’re RoBronco factories down there. Durin’ the War, taxes an’ labor were a lot cheaper here, so Equestrian corps took advantage.”
And there it was, a path forward calling my name; settling down wasn’t for me, not yet. I’d traveled through the northern Griffin Commonwealth, and now I was set on visiting the south. If Dogs of War were attacking scavengers, I was going to find out why and get to the bottom of exactly what these automatons were. For that, I had to travel to the Iron Valley and find the source of it all: RoBronco.
Level Up
New Quest: The Wastes – Travel across the wastes to reach the Iron Valley.
New Perk: The Doctor’s Touch – All potions made by you using Alchemistry provide a minor health bonus when consumed.
Luck +1* (6)
Alchemistry +3 (52)
Alteration Magic +6** [Skill Book] +4 (38)
Barter +4 (113)
Medicine +3 (123)
Repair +3 (113)
Speech +3 (112)
*I Make My Own Luck
**Crash Course