Chapter 1- Meet the Team. Meet the Mercs.
They had to be brought in via airdrop. It was the easiest and quickest way.
The landing was smooth and there was great view of the scenery on the way down, never before had a land like this be seen in such beauty. The cargo included, this drop-in was only made possible through automated parachutes that could be programmed to get itself to a specified location. Ten humans, and a large bundle of cargo crates were being flown towards a large cave resting on a cliff face with the assistants from these parachutes.
The cave known as, once home to a dragon, was left untouched by any living being until today. That said the cavern was massive. A building could fit inside it. Due to its elevation, at the peak of the Smokey Mountain it rested on, the cave itself was well lit up from the sun. From its mouth: a view of Ponyville and the castle capital behind it. These men, the first visitors to lay eyes on the cave in a while, have been hired by another group of people that had been bickering among themselves for decades, before a new threat posed itself that would end the argument for the time being. These hired men would do what needed to be done; the dirty workers, the gamers of death, the political persuasions; so long as the money came through. They were mercenaries. More than that, but nine of them were veterans of the Gravel Wars, as well as defenders against a robot army. Those kind of things look good on a mercs resume. Now free from those conflicts and the rules of war that they had been forced to follow, the veterans had chosen to continue doing what they did best.
Having hauled the cargo crates that came down with them into the cave, each mercenary took their own crate that had been previously labeled with each members name, and took time to fully inspect their new gear. The unexpected guests knew that time was of the essence, the camp must be ready by nightfall. But taking inventory was first priority.
A young man, born in Boston, cracked open his crate to see what lie within. Laying on top of the goods was a thick, colorful pamphlet. Each mercenary received a pamphlet, inside of the crates, containing each mercenary's guns. These pamphlets held simple descriptions of what had been improved, by their employers, of their weapons and load-outs. There were old and new additions to the familiar armory, and without any rules of war, more than 3 pieces of equipment could be used at once! Most of them had their own personal melee weapon of choice unaltered by request.
Each member had vague code names, rarely do real names come up in conversation. "Titles" could be a good description of what the names are in question.
Scout, the Boston boy, was one of the younger team members, with his age approximated to be in the mid to late 20s. Most other members around him appear to be in the 35+ range. He wore a black cap, purple shirt with rolled up sleeves, and dog tags that sit around his neck. His hands were wrapped in cloth much like a boxers, but fingers had been left completely exposed. Fastened with a black belt and a rectangular buckle are his brown jeans that are tucked into long sport socks that sit in a pair of sport sneakers. Lastly, fastened to his back was a plain, black duffle bag.
Class:Scout
Primary weapon(s)
AA-Blaster (scattergun): 2× fire rate; 25% more bullets/spread; +50% clip; no drawbacks
Secondary(s)
Pistol: Increased damage by 25%; no fall damage; no drawbacks
Bonk: unmodified
Milk: unmodified
Cleaver: sharpened
Melee
Baseball bat and ball
Soldier, stared down blankly at his pamphlet. He wore a single piece, purple trenchcoat that reached slightly beyond his waist line. Perched on his head was a WW2 American helmet left unstrapped to his head, and the helmet itself sheltered his eyes from view of anything. Yet the man could still “see” clearly. An utility belt had itself around his waist and across his chest, on a sash, was two yellow emergency grenades. He wore brown jeans that were tucked into his tall war boots.
Class:Soldier
Primary weapon(s)-
Rocket launcher: Increased travel speed by 40%; increased damage by 75%; no drawbacks
Rocket jumper: unmodified
Secondary(s)
Shotgun: Increased damage by 15%; no drawbacks
Gun-Treads (Boots): 60% less self-damage from rocket jumping; deals ×3 fall damage to opposition landed on; 75% less push back from damage; no drawbacks
Melee
Standard collapsible military shovel
Gray-green pickaxe
Demoman read while drinking his alcoholic scrumpy bottle, somehow able to read clearly in a drunken stupor. The black Scottish man wore a black wool cap, and had has left eye covered by an eyepatch. A thin, scruff like beard completed his face. He wore a white long sleeve shirt that stopped at his mid-forearm, laid below a purple thick shirt that reached his elbows. Over those shirts was a black thick, but flexible bomb vest with a crotch flap. The vest had six yellow emergency pipe grenades fastened to the front of it in vertical rows of three. His legs had purple pants that ended tucked into black socks and black boots with its boot sleeve rolled down over his ankle.
Class:Demoman
Primary Weapon(s)
Grenade launcher: damage increased 75%; +50% magazine; no drawbacks
Loose cannon: damage increased 50%; fuse and Donk function unmodified; -25% damage after contact with surrounding surfaces
Secondary(s)
Splendid Targe: +50% resistance to explosive and fire damage; +70% charge damage at any distance; damage and re-charge rate increases when heads are collected; no drawbacks
Scottish launcher: +25% fire rate; +50% ammunition; no active stick bomb limit; detonation can be toggled between directed and simultaneous; bombs will detonate beneath you if a separate button is pressed
Melee
Eyelander: cleaned and sharpened
Scrumpy bottle: unmodified
Sniper sharpened his Jarate jars while reading. No one knows how jars are sharpened, nor do they have a desire to know. Especially if they are used the way he uses them. FYI “Jarate” is slang for piss. More specifically, piss he throws at people on a regular basis. Sniper wares a Australian hat, as he is a native of said country. The hat fails to hide his side burns that rub up against the frame of his sunglasses that protect him from sun glare. He wore an Australian kakadu shirt under an unzipped black hunters vest. A wrist watch was fastened to his left arm and a single finger-less glove covered the hand on that arm. Brown pants that ended in, what else but Australian boots.
Class: Sniper
Primary Weapon(s):
Sniper rifle: +15% damage dealt when fully charged; penetrating shots when fully charged; silencer reduces sound signature; penetrating shots are tracer rounds
Huntsman: unmodified
Secondary(s)
SMG: +25% damage; added silencer; no drawbacks
RazorSheild: blocks multiple backstabs; +40% blast and bullet resistance; no drawbacks
Jarate (piss): definitely unmodified
Melee
Kukri: unmodified
Spy calmly lit up a cigarette and focused on reading, rather than watching Sniper sharpen his jars. This French man wore a simple rubber purple mask on his head and neck concealing any distinct features except for his eyes and mouth. The his attire consisted of a purple tailored suit with matching tie and pants. Finally, a pair of dress shoes adorned his feet. An unusual choice of outfit given the circumstances, but the man had style.
Class: Spy
Primary Weapon(s)
Revolver: +60% damage; no drawbacks
Secondary(s)
Electro-sapper: unmodified
Red tape recorder: unmodified
Melee
Butterfly knife: unmodified
Tool(s)
Disguise kit: unmodifiable
Invis-watch: +50% duration; no drawbacks
Cloak and dagger: +50% recharge; same drawbacks
Dead ringer: +50% duration; no drawbacks
[One pocket book on pony anatomy included in crate]
Spy opted to immediately start looking into the pocket book, followed closely by Dr. Medic who had finished reading his pamphlet. Medic had a short, well groomed black head of hair, and a pair of small circular glasses. He wore a white collared shirt with tie that is underneath a lightly hued purple vest. Over that he wears a white overlapping coat where the buttons fasten to his left side with three buttons located in the upper body area. the coat extends down his side and behind his legs, leaving his brown pants exposed in front, before stopping an inch or two above his short boots. At his waist is a heavy duty belt that serves to secure side and back pouches. His hands are usually covered by thick, purple rubber gloves. Overall he was the photo finish, stereotypical, german field and lab medic/scientist.
Class: Medic
Primary weapon(s)
Syringe gun: unmodified due to personal request
Crusaders crossbow: unmodified
Secondary(s)
Medi-gun: +40% heal rate; +25% übercharge rate; move at the speed of any faster heal target
Übercharge grants krits, 200% heal rate, and invulnerability; no drawbacks
Melee
Übersaw: unmodified
Saw: unmodified
[One pocket book on pony anatomy included]
Pyro had tried to light his pamphlet on fire, but discovered, to its disappointment, that the pamphlet was made of a nonflammable material of some variety. The gender of this creature is still unknown. This is because Pyro wears a black, full head gas mask where the round lenses are one way tinted, so you can't see his/her eyes. The mask is technically a separate part of his outfit. The main body wears an asbestos-lined purple suit that covers the whole body. The hands wear firefighters gloves, the thick rubber-like kind. Firefighter boots that have their sleeve rolled down over itself but reaching above his ankles can be seen at his feet along with the full body suit that also includes socks. Three emergency incendiary grenades are strapped to a sash grouped near the shoulder. The mouth of this thing is muffled. Words only escape as genderless “Murphs.”
Class: Pyromaniac
Primary weapon(s)
Flamethrower: flame can be toggled between length and width; no drawbacks
Secondary(s)
Shotgun: +15% damage; no drawbacks
Flare gun: shots can knock back opponents; flares can be detonated midair; no drawbacks
Melee
Fire ax: unmodified
Engineer sighed and took a look at his leaflet. Lifting the hard hat perched over his bald scalp, he scratched an itch. The Texas ranger's eyes are usually hidden behind a pair of work goggles, similar in design and effect as Pyro's. A purple collared work shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows was underneath brown overalls that had an utility belt located at the waist. He wore a pair of yellow workman knee pads, and wore a pair of workboots at his feet.
Class: Engineer
Primary weapon(s)
Rescue Pomson: fires a laser that heals buildings and deals damage to opposition; no reload; laser charges when inactive; alt. Fire teleports buildings at the cost of 180 metal; no drawbacks
Secondary(s)
Wrangler: unmodified
Pistol: +25% damage; no drawbacks
Melee
Wrench: unmodified
[No active sentry limit]
Heavy stared both in amusement and confusion as Engi passionately hugged the badass monstrosity that is a Rescue Ranger-Pomson. To summarize the Heavy look before going into detail, the Heavy resembles a giant, shaved, Russian bear. Keep that in mind. Though bald Heavy wears an imposingly large purple shirt with an equally impressive black vest over it. Both hands wear fingerless gloves and a sash of large bullets is worn across his chest. Apart form that, the average pants and boots finished off his simplistic look.
Class: Heavy
Primary weapon(s)
Mini gun (Sasha): +20% damage; no drawbacks
Secondary(s)
Shotgun: +15% damage; no drawbacks
Sandvich: unmodified
Melee
Fists: unmodified
Rifleman calmly inspected his gear, satisfied with what he had read in the pamphlet. He wore a US marine, combat uniform and boots, but had left his helmet behind to reveal a young visage with the age of ~35 written on it. His black hair was cut short and, only when he stood, one could estimate his height of 6'. He wore black, Oakley sport sunglasses that had been custom ordered to have interchangeable lenses, presently he wore them with normal, clear, prescribed lenses; almost killing the badass vibe yet enhancing it as well. Lastly, a pair of finger-less gloves covered his hands.
Class: Rifleman
Primary weapon(s)
AK-47: 30 shot clip; red dot sight; detachable flashlight
Secondary(s)
M1911 pistol: 45 cal.; 7 shot clip
Melee
Machete
The Rifleman was tricked into being transferred from the U.S military to the TF-S (Team Fortress Squad). He signed up on, what he was led to believe, a confirmation sheet for Leave. Instead he was signing a confirmation sheet to join their team. Disgruntled, but nevertheless obedient, Rifleman soon found himself acquainted with nine other mercenaries.
Was he a marine? Technically yes. Did he act like one? Not entirely. This was a small factor, but a factor nonetheless, in how this modern man was transferred. In truth, he loved the concept of “merc for hire”, but this wasn't what he had in mind.
"Hey, guys?" The nine mercs turned to Scout. He had his pamphlet open in one hand, and his pistol in the other. "Do these “bonus stat” stuff really matter anymore?" A good question, as no longer was weapon statistics nearly as important. Outside the badlands, an explosion would be measured in size, not how badly the enemy was damaged. A bullet was a bullet. A dead man was a dead man. "Not entirely," answered Rifleman to answer Scout’s question, "It is the best way for you to gauge how improved your guns are. Since that is how you have been doing it for so many years beforehand." Scout looked down at his pistol, satisfied with the answer, but felt an ominous weight inside his chest. No longer would he need to empty most of his ammo to take down a few people, now one bullet would end a life. Instead of unchanged terrain, craters and fallen buildings will be left in the wake of rockets.
For them, his was a different kind of war altogether.
There came a still, boring, silence. Eyes slowly fell on Engie, who was still hugging his new gun. Realizing how stupid he must look, the Texan straightened up and quickly collected himself. "W-well boys, let's start setting up the base." The ten men grabbed a box or two each and began moving to the back of the cavern. The set up was to be kept simple and minimal. Several dispensers near the right wall, two workbenches at the other, sleeping by the back, a fire pit in the center, and a magnetic white board for briefing. With ten people the job took less than ten minutes. They sat in a semicircular C around the fire pit, and no fire was in place yet.
They all stared at the large mouth of the cave. A strange new world was just beyond it and they were one of the few to have tackled it so boldly, so head on.
Equestrians have recently appeared almost out of nowhere, along with their continent that has overtaken a large chunk of the Pacific ocean. This was the result of an experiment with the prized magical gems, known as the elements of harmony. This crated a dual dimensional phenomenon that allowed the kingdom to jump across time and space. Even now little is understood of exactly what allowed this to be possible.
At first, diplomatic relations with the two princessi went swimmingly. It appeared that magic and science could be meshed together for the benefit of all. A few months ago however, Equestria began a human to pony conversion program and it became a requirement for entry into Equestrian territory. Slowly, rumors, speculation, and discussion sprang up on the topic. Why did they make this a law? Is there a way to turn back? Is this even safe? It really took off when two of those questions were answered. Numerous reports and studies proved that the conversion was highly imperfect and brainwashed personality to the point that the individual barely retained any of his or her human character and became a simple, go-happy pony. No horse spoke an apology, no horse acknowledged the prevalent issue. The political tensions became tight and humanity wanted some form of justification, some reason as to why. Until a naïve mare spoke on international TV. For sake of simplicity, I’ll simply say that she indirectly, but clearly made all Equestrian intentions clear. To convert, or suppress the human race. It was outrage that followed a wave of confusion. The two species aren't at war, but the anger that is circulating needed to be vented. America’s president decided to take action and publicly denounced Equestria. Happy someone raised their voice the UN held meetings to formally list who would and wouldn't be involved in the war that was sure to ensue. They will make it official, but for now these guys were hired; by a specific, classified ring of allies in the UN; to soften up the Equestrians from the inside and work behind the lines before and during the war to throw Equestria into partial chaos.
The crew found themselves staring into the space before the cave and, for only one moment, failed to see the equine figure sticking her head in the great mouth. That moment had passed away quickly and instinctively ten pairs of arms reached for their guns, ready to shoot whoever thought could cut the mission off before it could start.
"WAIT!! WAIT!! DON'T SHOOT!!" She pleaded, her voice had a dull tone but it was but clear. "I was sent here by your employer!" The light refocused and her features became clear, “I am Derpy Hooves, your closest friend and ally out behind the enemy lines.”