• Published 14th May 2019
  • 2,370 Views, 1,551 Comments

Unshaken - The 24th Pegasus



The age of gunslingers is coming to an end. As the law closes in on outlaws across the Equestrian southwest, Kestrel must find a way to help her wanted gang of misfits escape or die trying. [A CYOA Story]

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Chapter 116

Do nothing: 12 Votes

“Takin’ action of any kind’s only like to make the situation worse,” Kestrel said, dragging the crate of whiskey forward so she and Silver could take it out of the wagon. “We’re like to get hurt chasin’ and shootin’ Pinks, and who’s to say if they even know anythin’ useful? Might be that we’re puttin’ ourselves in harm’s way for nothin’. On top of that, might be that we just make the Pinks angrier rather than scarin’ ‘em off. I reckon our best bet’s just to lie low and wait until this whole ransom thing happens, then make the trade and get on outta here.”

Roughshod looked unpersuaded. “I ain’t a fan of sittin’ ‘round doin’ nothin’, Kessie,” he said. “That’s just waitin’ for the Pinks to find us and gun us all down in our sleep. I’d rather go out standin’ and fightin’.”

“I’d rather not go out at all,” Kestrel retorted. “If I wanted to die gunslingin’, I’d just walk into Hoofston and shoot a few rounds at the police. I’d die standin’ and fightin’ for sure when the whole department’s out after me. But it ain’t gonna mean much in the long run.” She grunted as she and Silver lifted the whiskey crate off of the wagon and set it aside, then raised an eyebrow at Roughshod. “But don’t let me stop you from gettin’ yourself killed, if that’s what you really really want.”

“I’m sure that’d just make your day.” Roughshod snorted, dragged a sack of potatoes out of the wagon with his teeth, and tossed it into the pile with the rest of the provisions by the chuck wagon. “I ain’t ‘bout to go and get myself killed on purpose, much as that’d disappoint you. But when the time comes, I ain’t gonna run with my tail ‘tween my legs. I’ll give ‘em hell and take as many as I can down with me.”

“And I’m sure we’ll all remember your noble sacrifice,” Miss Irons cut in, frowning at the stallion. “Until then, it’s best to do as Kestrel says. Nopony can escape from every fight unscathed. The more fights we have, the smaller the chance we’ll have of getting everypony out of Equestria alive.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Kestrel said. She put an end to the discussion by dismissively flapping her wings and slapping the back of the empty wagon. “Rough, move the wagon off to the side of camp. We’re done here.”

Though she was sure Roughshod had more to say, the stallion kept it to himself, sparing Kestrel only a look before he went around the wagon to move it away. Wanderer and Miss Irons watched him go, then nodded to Kestrel and Silver before they too went their separate ways, leaving the two mares by themselves.

Silver chewed on the inside of her lip. “I just hope this is the right call,” she said. “Things are… well, they ain’t pretty. I feel like a mouse in a room full of mousetraps. One wrong move and snap!”

“It ain’t gonna get better from here on out, I can assure you that,” Kestrel said. “We can shake some heat by movin’ to the next town over, but we’ve riled up the hornets’ nest too much to go back to where we was when we got to Rock Ridge. Everypony knows we’re here on this side of the San Palomino. The net’s gettin’ smaller and smaller by the day, and our chances of gettin’ out of it are gettin’ slimmer and slimmer.”

“Guess we ain’t goin’ back ‘cross the San Palomino, then?”

“I don’t think we’d survive the second trip,” Kestrel said. “We barely survived the first one. Ran out of water the day before we reached Rock Ridge. I ain’t keen on tryin’ it again.”

“Me neither.” Silver shuddered at the thought, and she looked around the camp. “Well, if we ain’t doin’ nothin’, then that means we’re stuck here for the next few days. I’m gettin’ real sick of doin’ nothin’ in camp.”

“Me too,” Kestrel agreed. “But it ain’t like we got much of a choice if we wanna get outta this one alive. And there’s only so much I can drink and smoke to pass the time.”

Silver rubbed her wing under her chin. “You get a chance to talk to Applejack yet?” she asked. “She’s somethin’ new in camp, at least.”

“The most talkin’ to her I’ve done is when we got our outta the conference… and then when she bucked me in the jaw tryin’ to make a break for it the other day.” After a moment, Kestrel shrugged. “Ah, hell. Why not. Let’s go see what the fat cat’s gotta say.”

[NO POLL FOR THIS CHAPTER]

Author's Note:

Short chapter today, as I'm trying to get things organized for the next main event in the story. Hopefully we'll be able to get to it before too long.


This story is a CYOA comment-driven story, where you, the readers, decide the outcome of the story. Each poll contains several options, each with sub-optimal choices thrown into the mix, with nothing but the prose to clue the readers into what each option entails. The will of the masses, alongside a few unbiased dice rolls, will decide the outcome of the story.

You can find Kestrel's character sheet, along with some key information about her and the Gang, here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xAGDlcd5mlMTAHwexlsrXOffQMMLoQc12u9itAa-io0/edit?usp=sharing

If you want to see the dice rolls in action, check out my Discord server: https://discord.gg/RsVkdD

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