Fallout: Equestria - False Dawn

by Requiem Mori

Chapter 8: ... and Into the... Sewer?

Chapter 8: ...and Into the... Sewer?

What defines you?

Perhaps I should write this down, for anyone who finds this later... though I doubt any of the illiterate savages that populate Equestria these days would use this for anything save toiletry... though based on some of them, it would be a noble cause for this journal to give its life. When you want to die, being a Canterlot ghoul is quite possibly one of the worst things to end up in this Celestia forsaken wasteland. Of course, there are ways to kill myself off... I think, but I cannot do that. Not because I fear to die, nay, rather quite the contrary. You see, at this point, I figure this is some great cosmic punishment for my sins... and one I will continue to live out until I finally meet my end. Gun of a raider, slashed by a Hellhound... any of those will work for me. At this point, I do not care what they do with the body, as long as they manage to actually finish me off properly. I digress again. That seems to happen more these days, wandering off topic. I seem to be missing parts of my memory, based on my previous journals, so I'm writing things down yet again... though I've probably written that before... but I'm digressing, again...
~From the Journal of Nevermore

A map is useful, of course. A guard schedule even better. That said, it still wouldn’t be easy. I sigh and look at maps again. Sewage treatment. Why did they always have to be near the sewage treatment? I’m not particularly fussy about my appearance these days. I’m dead now, so of course I don’t exactly smell as if I just came from a rose water bath. That said, I still have standards. Star Racer better appreciate the sacrifice that I or my poor cloak might be forced to make on her behalf. The simplest way in, of course, would to get arrested. That led to the problem of incarceration, along with the awkward explanations of who I am. Or more accurately, what I am. Everything that I’ve seen from this place has not given me the sense that they are exactly accepting. The doctor was... acceptable, but the looks the others give me indicate that they would rather not look at me, let alone talk to me. It seems instead that I will have to be breaking in.

I’m standing in front of a dirty orange unicorn, a grinding wheel in front of him. “Sharp Stuff” was the name of this dingy little store, which is what drew me in initially. My temper is barely in check, though I keep my tone as level as possible. Which means my grinding and raspy voice sounds like I’m three steps from knifing him in the throat. Strangely enough, that’s how I feel as well. “It is not that hard for you to understand. I need to get some of my knives sharpened.”

“Yeah, and I told you how much it would cost ya rotter.” He looks over me, eyes glancing at my saddlebags.

“Yes, and that is not your listed price. Unlike many others, I can read, and choose to do so on a regular basis.” I’ve heard a lot of slang towards ghouls, derogating statements towards our condition. Its not like we chose to be like this... I swallow my irritation. If this were in the Wasteland... but no, we are in ‘civilization’ now. As such, we must act civilized. It was nice to pretend for a bit that things were normal. But then ponies like this break the illusion, crashing reality back down upon me like a weight, a cruel reminder of the whims and vagrancies of Fate. Life can be rather cruel at times.

“Dead Tax.” He grins. “Another 40% on listed prices.”

Of course, I am not going to bother telling him that his math was wrong. He was only upcharging me 15%... and there was no reason for me to tell him otherwise. “Fine... here are your caps then.” I grudgingly hoof them over. Fortunately I save a lot of caps on food or shelter, though with my new companions, I might have to start saving more again. I hated scrounging... or ‘scavenging’ as some others called it. I preferred ‘liberating’ supplies from the scum of the Wasteland. Selling their gear to a merchant could bring in a decent supply of caps.

“Good, now where’s this knife, I have a busy schedule.”

Biting my tongue, I cut off a retort about how empty his store looked. “Knives. The agreement was for the knives that were on me right now.”

“Yeah yeah, get to it, then I can get you out of my store.” His face was scrunched up in disgust, as if willing me out of his shop.

I grin, my little display of amusement hidden by my heavy mask. I reach into my cloak, drawing a knife out, dropping it in front of him. The one next to it... the other... eventually a small pile of blades are in front of him. “When will they be finished?”

His jaw drops, and he looks at me aghast. “This is gonna take me all afternoon!”

I snort. “Then you better get started then.” He looks like he wants to tell me to leave... but it did seem like he needed the caps. Grumbling, he mutters something about not getting in his way as the grindstone starts to spin up, the rasp of the stone against the metal of the blades, sharpening the blades, removing some of the rust and use until they shined. I wait for several hours as he goes through the pile, my weapons returning to a sharp and almost gleaming appearance. During this time, I notice a small pair of eyes watching me from the back room. A small filly, hugging a blanket as her father worked. Her light purple mane complimenting her soft pink coat. Something in my mind focuses on her. She seems familiar, somehow. I feel music in the air, a soft and gentle voice. My anger melts away slightly, though I shake the memory from my mind. That was from a different time, a better time. Finally he finishes, wiping the sweat from his brow. I look them over. His work is fine indeed, wasted on the kitchen knives that he probably worked on normally.

“Ya happy? Then leave.” His attitude is not particularly pleasant though.

I reach into my bag and draw out another bag of caps, a larger one. His eyes grow larger as he sees them. “I will leave if you desire... but I also have another... business proposition for you. You see... I had a device before... long since broken. Perhaps you can replicate it with your skill...” I grin behind my mask. “Of course, I will pay for it... with a bonus if it is done quickly.”

He looks at the caps, then looks at me. “Alright, let’s hear it.” I lean in and start to whisper to him as he nods his head... Leaving the store, I head out into the rest of Greenvale Heights, back to the ghoul quarter. I needed to wait, but Star Racer should be fine for now. Not picky about where I stay, I take flight, heading up to the rafters, looking down at the mess below me, the rot and decay of a decrepit society. I survey the pain, the suffering, the loss, and I close my eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~

The rain lashes at me, the feathers in my hat trying to wilt under the downpour. I look at a somber monument, an obsidian wall. Names are etched into it, some that I know, many that I do not. Flecks of gold and silver are woven into the stone. Lightning flashes around me, a concrete wasteland. “They’re not all yours, Nevermore. You didn’t kill us all.”

I don’t look up. I know that voice, one of my few friends... or at least somepony that I was closer than normal to. “Not all, Nessy, but enough. I killed enough of you. By being there... and by not being there.” I look at her name on the wall. “I killed you just as I killed him.”

“You should stop beating yourself up about it, Nevermore. It doesn’t matter to us now. We’re gone. Tormenting yourself will not bring us back. All it will do is make you suffer.”

“And do I deserve any less? You know what I have done... what I did. What I will do yet. This suffering is not enough for me to atone. It is not even enough to pay the interest. It is a debt that I shall never escape.” I stare at her name on the wall... lost to us now. Lost to me now. She was always a better pony than I was.

“And yet you left her to die, just as you left me.” The Captain’s voice. Again, I cannot look at him, my ears wilting slightly. “It should have been you who died then, you know. You should have been there on the final run.”

“You know why I could not do that. You know why I left. You know better than anypony, except myself.” I snarl angrily. “I kept it even from her, never telling her my reasons, my motivations. Never telling her why I betrayed you, betrayed the Krew.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Why I abandoned everypony in their time of need.”

“And yet here you are, Nevermore. Here we are.” Faces form in the wall, ponies lost, their skeletal grimace staring at me as they surround my reflection. “And here shall we stay, until the last of us falls.”

~~~~~~~~~~

I waken, looking down from my perch in the rafters. Thankfully, nopony had bothered me as I blink the sleep from my eyes. Definitely one of the advantages of being a flier. Pulling my battered and ancient pocket watch out, I check the time. Good, only a few hours. Plenty of time. I needed to get a few more supplies before my raid on the prison... and unfortunately most of it was rather... ‘questionable’ in nature. Which left me with one option. Opening my wings, I drop to the ground, startling a few rats that were chewing on some garbage in the corner. Time to find Sleazy Slick. My blades clink ominously as I move quickly... but first, to Sharp Stuff to collect my new toy.

The crossbow slips easily over my front hoof, secured by a series of straps. He had done an admirable job in recreating it. The cunning device was a pain to reload, but provides a nasty punch in an emergency, along with something I’d been lacking for a while. Range. The old saying is quite correct, and it can be quite painful to always have a knife in a gunfight. Or knives, as the case may be. Now I’m ready.

~~~~~~~~~~

I look around the cell, pacing slowly, trying to get my thoughts in order. The doctor had shot her, shot Nevermore. Then she stood up again. Not that hard of a concept, right? She died, then got back up... No, I’m wrong, that was a rather hard concept after all. I never really knew much about my odd companion, never really asked her... but she saved my life, and she’s a pegasus. She seems honorable, in her own way, though also cold and uncompromising. I remember Fritter’s warnings about her, how she’s not ‘natural’, and something about her melting ponies. I thought it was just fear of her condition, though perhaps... I never asked her because she doesn’t seem like the sort to want to talk about it, though now I wish that I did. Shaking my head, I continue to pace, ignoring the other prisoners. I feel naked without my armor on, and hope these savages don’t damage it. They would be lucky to know which end of my weapons where which end.

My gaze drifts over to the warden, Gaoler, stroking his handlebar mustache with a hoof. There were a few bottles surrounding him, but despite indulging in a drink or two, he seemed to be reasonably competent, and he took decent care of the inmates. The unicorn stallion was currently going over some paperwork, glancing up at the prisoners occasionally. He stops, reads a bit, looks at me, looks at his paper, then looks back at me. Something crosses his face, a touch of emotion as he stands up and heads over to my cell.

Closer now, I can smell a bit of alcohol on him as he shakes his head. “Got some bad news for ya. Seems that the Council has reached a verdict for you.” He looks somewhat saddened. “Seems that you’re to be publicly executed, a warning to the Enclave not ta mess with us.” He seems genuinely sad by this, which is touching, considering the hammer blow of the words he just delivered. “That’s a fine flank ya got there... should’ve sold ya instead.” Ok, significantly less touching. Honestly, of my choices, I’d rather be executed then sold into slavery. At least I can expect a clean death, rather than a short and brutal life.

I turn from him, settling myself on the blanket thrown on the floor. “So be it.” Closing my eyes, I turn my ears down, ignoring him now. While I hoped that they would just let me leave, I wasn’t entirely surprised by their actions. I had gotten help for Nevermore, my duty was done. Shaking my head slowly, I imagine the Enclave already scratching my name off the list. Lieutenant Star Racer, Enclave Forward Ground Expeditionary Force. Lost in action. My brother would be saddened... I think. It’s not like I had anypony left anyways. Maybe these idiots would hit the wrong button and blow themselves up.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Winking Mare... here again, looking for a particular pony, looking for trouble. The smell of drugs, smoke, and alcohol fill the air, threatening to choke with with their acrid odor. I spot him with the same lackeys... Muscle Head. The idiot stallion who tried to pick a fight with me earlier. He recognizes me as well, as he stands up, towering over me. “Whatchu doing back here, you want to die, ghoulie?” Several of his friends stand up next to him as well, though they keep an eye on my hooves.

“I am looking for the one called Sleazy Slick. I have business with him.” Muscle Head seems to be confused. “Perhaps I should speak slower? Use smaller words? I seek pony. Sleazy Slick. You see pony?” Ok, maybe it’s a bit much, but I can’t really help the mocking sometimes. Ponies these days were so uneducated. Its my belief that this will be the true death of Equestria. Not the Wasteland or the monsters. No, those are a symptom, not the cause. The cause was ignorance, the slow death of civilization and culture. Ponies lived their lives, but they didn’t live. They merely existed. While the ponies may live on, Equestria was dead. The knowledge, hopes, fears... friendship that made it so was lost. All that remains is a broken and desiccated corpse that doesn’t realize that its dead.

Muscle Head growls at me. “Yeah? And what if I turn you into paste instead, dead head?” He flexes, trying to intimidate me. He’s definitely stronger than I am, though he seems to be a bit slow. They tense as I reach my hoof into my cloak, the rasp of steel deliberately audible.

“Then you lose the hoof. I just desire to talk with him, save your posturing for a pony that cares.” I glare at him. Could I take them all in a fight? Unless they were incredibly incompetent or I was willing to gas the entire bar, not without significant surprise. However, none of them want to be the first one to test my speed with a knife, none of them wanted to make the first move.

He hesitates a bit, his eyes flicking to a curtained room off to the side. Bingo. I move towards the curtain as he calls out to me. “Hey, you can’t go there!” Shooting him a venomous look, I proceed to ignore him as I push the curtain aside to be greeted by a shotgun aimed at my chest.

“Got yourself some courage, or some stupidity, don’t you?” The speaker is a unicorn stallion, his yellow mane slicked back. Though I doubt that most of his goons notice, it’s obvious that his suit is cheap and poorly fit. Two other ponies are with him, a large pony with the shotgun aimed at me, and a slender mare draping herself on his back. Ugh... her outfit made her look like a... actually, based on this pony, she quite possibly was a prostitute. He grins at me, a greasy smile. “Heard you got some business with me. What could a pony like you want with one like me?”

Here we go... diplomacy was definitely not one of my strong suits, so I use what I’m more familiar with. “Need some supplies... specifically some chemicals and similar things. They are not exactly ‘common’, if you know what I mean.” I look at him. “I assume that one with your contacts would be able to acquire these goods in an expeditious fashion, yes?”

He chews on the end of a cigarette, the rest of it having long since burned out. “Yeah, I got goods... you got caps?” He grins. “Just let me know what you need, and I’ll let you know what it’s gonna cost ya.”

“Caps? Yes, I have caps.” I briefly sketch out what I need for him. Nothing inherently dangerous on their own, but not many ponies these days know how some of them react with each other these days.

“Whoo-wee. All that lil’ missy? Can do that for you, but you want it fast, right? Can get it for you tonight, but... ten thousand caps. Payment up front.” He smiles greedily, knowing that is well above the actual cost even with speed.

“What nonsense. Three thousand, half up front, rest upon delivery.” Bit of a low ball, but... it seemed he wished to barter. I much prefer an upfront price that we can both agree on, but I suppose it is a bit of an art, just one I do not like to engage in.

“Seeking to beggar me? Eight thousand.” He looks a bit more serious now, as if he realizes that I’m not nearly fool enough to take any offer.

“Five thousand.” I have a rough estimate how much it should cost, though I truly hate negotiating with a slime ball like him.

“Six thousand. Half now, half upon receipt. Final offer, deader.” He doesn’t look like he’s going to change any more, and while it was a bit steep, it was understandable given the time restraint. Mostly.

“Acceptable.” I nose into my saddlebag, pulling out smaller bags of caps as I go. Such inefficient means of currency, these caps... Fortunately, I keep my caps sorted, making larger sums easier to count out. Slick eyes my bags greedily as I finish pulling out the three thousand caps. “I will be here later to collect my supplies and to bring the rest of the caps for you.” I save caps, but this was putting a serious dent into my savings. Giving them to one such as him left a sour taste in my mouth as well. “Do not disappoint me.” Perhaps we can renegotiate our arrangement later... a pleasant thought to ponder.

Sleazy Slick grins, running a hoof through his greased mane. “Pleasure doing business with ya. See ya back here in... oh... let’s say six hours or so, got it?”

“Understood.” The guard pony lowers his shotgun and goes back to his meal as I turn from them. Six hours. Wait for me Star Racer.

~~~~~~~~~~

I’m left to my thoughts again, Gaoler having stopped attempting to taunt me and stopped trying to get me to ‘lift my tail’ for him as well. Apparently he thought that my impending demise might make me open to his advances. I was about as interested in him as I was in Fritter, which is not at all. While I admire a mare’s flank as much as the next, that’s not to say that I don’t look at stallions either. Of course, I wouldn’t want one of these dirt pounders. For one, I’m sure they’re ridden with filth and disease. Second, and more importantly, I wouldn’t subject any of my offspring to the risk of not being a pegasus. I’d seen how some of my comrades treat earth ponies or unicorns, a mixture of pity and scorn. There’s no life for them above the clouds, and though I am here for now with Nevermore, I do plan to return some day. I do hope that they will let me back up there.

Gaoler is back in his chair, having left to use the restroom. He’s working on his paperwork again industriously, his gun placed on the table next to him. Sighing, I stare at the wall again. There’s a bit of moss growing on it, the sole object to break the monotony of the cell. I watch it, imagining that it’s growing... or something. Anything really. I’m not in the mood to talk to the other inmates, and I definitely don’t want to talk to Gaoler. My ears perk up slightly as I hear a faint, low rumble. Looking over at Gaoler, he doesn’t seem to have noticed, though another couple bottles line his desk now. At this rate, he’s going to become inebriated. The only other thing to look at is the bounty board. Ponies I don’t know for amounts that don’t mean much to me. Yet I look over their faces. Criminals and outlaws wanted by the ponies of this settlement. Then again, they imprisoned me as well. How many of the ponies on that wall were innocent of any real crime? How many had the misfortune of enduring these cells, only to be executed or sold? Slavery... such a vile practice. And these ponies dared claim to be civilized. I feel my temper rising. No Star... keep cool. No need to vent your frustration. Taking a deep breath, I will myself to calm down.

There’s a sudden hissing noise, the far wall crumbling from an explosive charge set against it. The charge was small, just enough to carve a small entry into the jail. The smell of sewage fills the jail as Gaoler leaps to his hooves, scrambling for his revolver. A low twang, and a small metal bolt knocks the gun away, sending it spinning across the floor. Acrid smoke hangs in the air, obscuring vision and rendering shapes to wavering shadows. Smoke that doesn’t come from the explosion, but rather from some sort of chemical reaction.

A familiar hat bobs in the smoke, set above a gleaming crimson eye. Nevermore. Her irradiated eye looking for all the world like it belongs to an avenging spirit from Tartarus. Gaoler starts to call for help, scrambling after his revolver. I had seen her fight before, but just now I realize one thing about my dead companion. She’s fast. Very fast. The ghoul is on Gaoler in an instant, slamming him into the wall, cutting off his cry with a savage chop at his neck with a hoof.

Blood leaking from his nose and wheezing, he whirls to grapple her, to force her to stand and fight. She melts back into the smoke and shadows, evading his grasp before lashing out again. It seems her blows aren’t too strong, but he’s growing increasingly frustrated, boxing with shadows. The flurry of blows and taunts from the dead mare making him sloppy. The other inmates aren’t helping him at all as they jeer at him, taunting him as the quick pegasus keeps flitting in and out, boxing him with her wings or slamming him with her hooves. With a roar, he charges after her, diving into the smoke, paying no heed to his surroundings anymore.

With a graceful spin, Nevermore ducks under his flailing hoof, lining up a perfect kick. Bucking with both of her back legs, she propels Gaoler head first into the wall, a spurt of blood and a tooth chip flying out. Groaning and dazed, Gaoler staggers back into her waiting embrace. Another quick jab to his throat sends him down gagging. Grabbing a bottle from his desk, she brings it cracking down on his head, showering him with glass and cheap alcohol as he finally lays still from the abuse. Nevermore shakes her head, grabbing the keys from his belt.

“Star Racer, fancy meeting you here.” Her voice is calm and level, as if she were just coming from a stroll in a park. I can hear the smile in her voice. She enjoyed that much more than was probably healthy.

“W-what are you doing here? Why are you...?” Granted, I am very glad to see her, though I wish it were under better circumstances. “How did you know where I was?”

She shakes her head slightly. “A little bird whispered in my ear... and who am I to disagree with them.” As she gets closer, I notice she’s caked with dirt and sewage on legs and cloak... that’s rather nasty, and the smell is not improved at all by her. That’s not enough to mask the blood coating her. Based on her relatively untouched appearance, little, if any, of the blood was hers. She shoves Gaoler’s desk against the door, blocking it as other ponies start to respond, knocking at the door, raising questions in the confusion. Breaking the lock, she jams the door shut, buying us some time.

“You... did you kill ponies to get here?” Please tell me she didn’t murder any of the guards... while this was a forsaken little hell hole, they still had their order, their civilization... she wouldn’t just callously murder others just to get me out, would she?

Nevermore looks at me, scoffing slightly. “What are you talking about? The only pony who was hurt here was that one.” She tilts her head toward Gaoler as she unlocks my cell. “I had a... disagreement with a pony earlier. It has since been resolved.” Again, her voice holds a tint of self satisfied contentment, as if killing the pony made her feel... happy.

I push my way out of the door as the other ponies clamor for her to open their cell, to let them out as well. She ignores them as she starts to tie up Gaoler using his own belt. “Who? Who did you kill?”

She gives an exasperated sigh, as if she doesn’t understand why I’m asking. “A pony decided that he wished to get more caps than he deserved.” Her tone leaves no illusion that whoever this pony was, he didn’t deserve any caps at all. “As such, I renegotiated our little deal with a few friends of mine. Besides, he was some petty gangster anyways, hardly worth shedding a tear for.” Her callous disregard for life was almost shocking, combined with the apparent effort she went through to save me.

“Then why come for me?” The words leave my lips before I think about them, knowing the answer before I finish talking. The same answer I would have given. That I already gave.

“Because you are one of my companions, and I never leave a comrade behind if I can help it. Truly, I expected that you would have known that already.” She’s at the lockers now, opening them, looking for my gear I presume... that, and based on the amount of stuff she’s pulling into her saddlebags, looting at the same time. Ignoring the protests of other prisoners as she takes their stuff, she opens another door, revealing the heavier equipment they had locked away. “How fast can you get armored?”

She tilts her head towards my power armor neatly stacked in the corner. Apparently they hadn’t begun to dismantle it yet. “Ten seconds flat.” Ok, so it’d take me a bit longer than that, but it was an old saying, and it wouldn’t take that long.

With a hiss, my helmet seals against my armor, blocking the stench of the jail and Nevermore. Gaoler is looking at us, alternating between threatening and begging. The door starts to buckle as they bring something... or someone... strong enough to break through the reinforced steel. I feel better though, encased in the comfort of my armor as I glare down at Gaoler.

Part of me wants to pay him back for his insults and taunts. And the innuendo of what he would do if he could buy me. Based on the puddle of waste that he’s sitting in, he’s imagining what I’d do to him as well. I am better than this though. I wouldn’t hurt a prisoner, even one that I did not like, as much as I may have wanted to. I turn abruptly as they finally break through part of the door, yelling at us to stop.

Following Nevermore, we head into the sewers, ignoring the cries of the other prisoners. She had left them all in there. Stallions, mares, foals. It is hard to understand her sometimes. There’s a dull plop as she tosses Gaoler’s keys into the sewage. She’s very quiet in general, at times apathetic. She doesn’t seem like she cares for much, and definitely doesn’t seem like she cares for herself.

Yet here she is, trudging through the sewers to help me out. Yet she didn’t kill Gaoler, just beat him, probably humiliating him in the process. She beat him without serious injury, yet seemed to take a certain amount of enjoyment from defeating him, going so far as to throw in the occasional taunt to rile him up, insults hissing from her mask. She didn’t help any of the other ponies, yet she didn’t harm them either, though she did take things from the evidence lockers. Her callous disregard for life of those that she deems to be beneath her though... the mare had a vicious streak in her.

“It will not take them long to alert the rest of the security that there was a jailbreak.” She shakes her head. “I promised a pony that we would leave as soon as I got you out, and in return, the turrets will have a temporary mechanical failure... starting now.” She slips her watch into her dress, then breaks into a trot, then a gallop, heading through the sewers.

Bursting out of the hole she had blown in the wall earlier, we sprint past a pair of security ponies before opening our wings and taking flight, heading for the gate. Ponies are trying to bring their turrets online while others try to close the gate. Without any mechanical assistance, both are proving to be quite difficult or impossible. A pattering of small arms fly up at us as some of the quicker ponies draw their sidearms, attempting to take us down.

My armor deflects the few that manage to connect with me, and Nevermore twists and turns, making herself a difficult target. Despite her efforts, she’s caught by a few stinging pellets, but she seems to ignore them. Straining to eke out just a little more speed, a harsh mechanical sound announces the gate’s mechanisms working again just as we clear the door, slamming shut behind us with the finality of a judge’s gavel, the shattered remains of a desiccated city greeting us as we continue to flee.

That same pink bot was there as we passed, it’s chipper voice calling out. “Make sure you come back soon! Then I’ll throw you a real party!” Will wonders never cease.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sleazy Slick lay in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by three of his best fighters. The look on their face spoke of surprise and horror. The mare looked down at the bloody ruin where a crossbow bolt had taken Sleazy in the eye, a knife punching through his throat soon thereafter. Another of the ponies looked like they were cut to pieces as they thrashed themselves to death on the floor. Knife wounds covered the rest of them, frenzied and savage blows defacing their bodies. The soft glow of her horn lit the Winking Mare, the sole occupant of the once bustling establishment. Things would return to normal, they always did. What was a murder or two in the Wasteland? She runs a hoof down to the blood, staining her pristine white coat red. “You don’t even know why she went off, do you? We will find her, brother... and we will make her pay back a thousandfold.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Welcome to Level 6!

New Perk: Toughness - Even with your physique, you’re rather stoic when it comes to pain and injury, aren’t you? Gain +3 DT permanently.

Well, well Nevermore. A new foe, and one out for vengeance, no less. You know all about that, don’t you, vengeance seeking. Hope this doesn’t turn out badly for the rest of your comrades. You really need to watch your temper dear.

Author's Note:

Sorry this chapter has been so late... been very busy recently.

Comments

[Requiem Mori]

Boop Nevermore, lose the hoof?

[Requiem Mori]

Thank you~ I appreciate it, especially mine's written as a sort of prequel for yours as well. Hope it keeps going to an interesting conclusions, and yes, I did know, since I read yours too.

[erictheblue]

She tilts her head towards my power armor neatly stacked in the corner. Apparently they hadn’t begun to dismantle it yet. “Ten seconds flat.” Ok, so it’d take me a bit longer than that, but it was an old saying, and it wouldn’t take that long.