KA-CHUNK. KA-CHUNK!
I could hear the buckshot spraying onto the super mutants behind. I prayed that the shotgun blasts would slow the beasts down, as it was becoming harder to concentrate on running and magically aiming the levitated shotgun behind me. I turned, sharply, around a corner. There’s a large pile of rubble, and I don’t know if I can make it over, but I try. Sliding my sawed off shotgun into a slot on my flank, I rear back, preparing to scale the small mountain of rubble in front of me. I race up the rubble, but lose my hoofing at the top, and crash down the rubble on my face. I land on my side, cuts, grazes and bruises adorn my body.
They warned me that scavenging Manehattan was a bad idea, but did I listen? No, I had to play tough mare and run in blind with a sawed off shotgun and twenty shells. I limp into the burned out interior of an old storefront, hiding behind the counter. I’m not the first to have this Idea, as evident by the skeleton curled up in the corner. I pull my saddlebag in front of me and began to rummage through it. One healing potion, that’s it. I wrap my lips around the bottle and pull my head back, the pink, fizzing liquid pouring down my throat. I peek over the counter to watch out for the mutants. I don’t think they followed me. They’re too big, they wouldn’t be able to get over the rubble pile, and they’re too dumb to try and go around, or at least, I hope they are. I don’t take the chance and immediately get back out on the broken Manehattan streets.
As I walk by the burned out buildings I see something in the distance, the road leads out of the city. I speed up my walk to a run, before tripping and slamming my chin on the burned and scarred concrete. My back left leg, maybe broken, but definitely hurting. I barely push myself up on my four hooves and limp forward, looking everywhere for a spot to rest. As my head seems to become lighter, I barely make it out of the city, a lowly motel to the side of the road beckons me with its bent and blackened sign out front.
I ascend the stairs, steadying myself with the bloodstained, beige walls of the pre-war structure. I make my way to the final door on the end of the balcony, unlocked, as I’d hoped. There’s a skeleton staring out the window, but my eyes lock onto the perfectly made, seemingly, untouched bed. I rest on the mattress, immediately falling into a deep sleep.
I’m up early the next morning. My leg still hurts, but I can ignore it. I look over to the skeleton staring out the window, and the bag by its side. I levitate the bag to to my side and begin to rummage through it. I find what I was hoping for, several rolls of healing bandages and three healing potions. I quickly tend to my leg before taking a more thorough look into the bag, and the bag turns out to be an interesting piece of salvage. A glowing, glass sphere, a memory orb. I touch my horn to the device and the visions I am met with only intrigue me more. Some kind of radio broadcast, a pre-war facility with a plethora of weapons, armour and experimental tech, enough to please the Steel Rangers who keep seeming to pop up in my life. Upon further investigation of the bag, I find plans, a large number of notes and maps, puzzle pieces painting a pretty picture. A way into the facility. I load everything into my saddle bags and head on my way. I’ll need weapons and supplies if I’m gonna break into this facility. I think I’ll raid one of the raider dens in Ponyville.