private What the Wasteland Hooves Out

[UnitP0N13 25]

Malik sighed. He hated it when he was right. Well, sometimes. Other than the times he wished he wasn't right, he was pretty stoked about being right 90.5% of the time. Er, that is, he would be if he wasn't fed up with the Rangers by now. Malik has stumbled upon better chapels before, where the only real fault was the Rangers being a bit too overprotective of their citizens and smothering everything in safety procedures.

 

His frustration, however, was replaced by curiosity as Silver Heart stepped out of the barn. What was she doing out there? Weren't they going to (gently) interrogate the Rangers? Malik slowly followed behind, wondering if maybe she felt sick and needed some fresh air.

 

"What 'chya doin'?" The inquisitive bot asked after a few moments of silence.

[Ghostpony 17]

Seeker only stood with the group as he watched Star Paladin Pot Belly dodge Malik's question, as if it had been nothing more then just another rumor from everyday gossip. The way Pot Belly's mannerisms were, he knew that the information he wanted to gather would cause him unneeded stress, but it could be easier if he found the blue-robed pony from a few moments ago. "Thank you, Star Paladin Pot Belly for your time" Seeker spoke to the pony giving him a knowing smirk that told him, that he couldn't pull the wool over everypony's eyes as he left. Now all he needed was to find the blue-robed pony, that first met them.

 

[[ooc: yeah sorry it took me so long for me to post]]

[00Pony 286]

(OOC: Gorram, (you are officially much more awesome if you can name where that is from) I cannot tell you how tempting it was to click that spoiler button. I refrained from it, but I have a bad habit of clicking things that say 'show' with barely glancing at the text beforehand.)

 

 

Alizarin trots for the barn, looking at the two laser turrets mounted on top as he went. He knocks on the doors, pretty sure that they wouldn't appreciate him just waltzing on in uninvited. They probably weren't going to allow him access to their database, and even if they did, it'd probably be real constricted, "Damned Zealots." he thinks to himself as he waits for a response. Truth be told he had plenty of reasons for wanting access to their hardware. Looking into the whole Shantytown business, maybe finding a more detailed map of the area. Not to mention see if his name was still on the board. He glances at his where his cutie mark would be concealed by his armor, "I doubt my little decoy threw them off for long, if at all..."

 

He sighed. There wasn't much use in getting sentimental for him. Keep your mind rooted in the present, consider the future, learn from the past. He'd heard those words a few years back from a bounty hunter, a pony that called himself Deacon. Suppose he was trying to live up to that name, giving advice like that.

Edited May 9, 2013 by 00Pony

[Half-Note 273]

Guardian Angel wandered around until he saw some rangers around. "You there," he called. "I'm paladin Guardian Angel and I'd like to speak to you for a moment. I have some reason to believe that there was a murder involving some ponies from this chapter. Is there anyone here who you think would kill a pony over a laser rifle?"

[Standard User 2,127]

@@SilverHeart,

Investigating the earth around the outside of the windows to the room you were just in proves fruitless -- on the surface, at least. Upon closer inspection you see that what barren grass there is growing from the foundation of the house has been trampled down and scuffed markings adorn the windowsill. These markings appear to have been made by a creature -- a pony, most likely -- wearing metallic armor. Somepony had certainly been listening in on your conversation and left before you could arrive.

 

@@Ghostpony,

Stepping out onto the front porch, you inspect the property for any signs of the Scribe who you had first met. And, for the first time, you notice that there are a lot of blue-robed ponies mulling about the compound or carrying assortments of papers and metal bits to and fro. The Scribe in question definitely didn't follow you into the house, however, and he is nowhere to be seen outside. He must be inside the barn.

 

@@00Pony,

You knock on the door...and the other side knocks in response.

 

"Whassa password, pal?" A youthful sounding voice emits from the other side of the door.

 

"You moron!" A muffled, slightly-older and feminine-sounding voice trails the first. "We don't have a password. What would be the point? Just open the damn door!"

 

"But it's that new Ranger-looking pony! The one that showed up with all them griffons! I bet-- I bet he's a spy!" The voice hisses out the last part of his sentence.

 

"Recruit, open that blasted door before I pry it open. With your spine."

 

You hear a lock being thrown on the other side of the door, and it opens a crack. "Yeah? What can I do fer ya?" The first voice reveals itself to belong to a stallion -- barely out of his colthood, it seems -- with startling green eyes and an emerald green coat to match. "Can't let you in unless you have some good reason. Boss-mare's orders, y'know?" The stallion chuckles.

 

"Recruit, you know I detest that term." An elderly mare appears from behind the stallion like a sneaky snake. "Let me attend to our...friend...here while you go tinker with the system. See if you can think of anything else." The stallion hastily backs away from the door, offers the mare a salute, and runs towards the back of the barn.

 

"There, now some peace and quiet...and less stupid." The mare brushes some sweat from her forehead before opening the door a tad more. "I'm sorry for Recruit's behavior. He's our newest greenhorn, and it shows quite often. Regardless, I'm Scribe Premier. I'm in charge of maintaining the system here on the property. Though, my job hasn't been that easy as of late. The system has been bugging out and I can't seem to figure out why." The mare opens the door enough for you to walk through, but continues to stand in your way. "Now, I heard about your little meaning with ole' Fatass, so I'll cut you a deal. If you can get the computers up and running again, I can spread a little gossip. How's about it?"

 

With that, the mare steps back and allows you to investigate the innards of the barn more closely. Rows of computer banks and screens showing complicated graphs line the loft, their wires connecting to a variety of robots and other machines on the ground floor. Five of the half-dozen Scribes in the barn are bustling around the upper floor; the sixth, Recruit, is polishing some tools in the back corner.

 

This is your chance for yourself or someone else to take a quick peek in the Ranger's terminals and find that information you want. Just don't get caught snooping...

 

@@Half-Note,  

The two Rangers you found idly chatting while leaning on the fence lining the perimeter seem annoyed by your intrusion. 

 

The first, a mare in full power armor getup, barely glances in your direction. "Look, kid, we have plenty of trouble around here already with Fatass sitting on his fatass and not doing anything. The last thing we need is somepony spreading rumors about us being foal-killers. Rangers don't roll that way." The mare makes a spitting noise, then recoils. "Gah, fuck it! I forgot I was wearing my damn helmet! Of all the...urgh!" The mare stomps away, her respirator sounding ever-so-slightly clogged.

 

The second pony, a mare in power armor sans helmet, looks at you shyly. "She...she spits too much..." She coughs into her hoof, then turns to look at the sky, then at the ground, then the fence...pretty much everywhere but you. "Uh, my name is, uh, Petal...Dance...eep!" She cowers into her armor, shuffling around to look out past the fence over the rolling hills of nothing (it IS a wasteland, after all). "S-sorry...I don't think anypony would k-kill anypony else unless they thought they had t-to...but if you really think one of us did something terrible like that, I wouldn't blame you. Everypony has been so high strung since Star Paladin Pot Belly stopped sending out recon teams."

 

[Woo, that was fun. Lot going on. 00Pony, I'm thinking of ways to tie in your backstory to future Ranger-related quests. Everyone else, I'm working on backstories as well. A backstory for you, and one for you, and one for EVERYone!

In other news: in case I haven't already said it, I'm not introducing the new faction yet. This "new" questline will allow the party to experience some good ole' "Nobody wins in Fallout" quest rewards.  ]

[Alex Kennedy 1,228]

Not really sure what the best course of action was, and frankly not really caring about resolving this whole murder mystery nonsense, Raptor ended up just wandering the compound, reveling in the stares he got from the rangers. Eventually he ended up wandering back towards the exit. Perhaps he would just wait for the others there. He didn't have the patience for this investigative crap anyway.

[Half-Note 273]

Guardian Angel rose an eyebrow quizically. "Wait, why would he stop sending recon teams, how else is this chapter supposed to find technology?" He asked the shy mare. On a side note he turned to the spitting mare. "Blow hard enough and the spit should just go through the rebreather," he told her.

[00Pony 286]

 

 

You knock on the door...and the other side knocks in response.   "Whassa password, pal?" A youthful sounding voice emits from the other side of the door.   "You moron!" A muffled, slightly-older and feminine-sounding voice trails the first. "We don't have a password. What would be the point? Just open the damn door!"   "But it's that new Ranger-looking pony! The one that showed up with all them griffons! I bet-- I bet he's a spy!" The voice hisses out the last part of his sentence.   "Recruit, open that blasted door before I pry it open. With your spine."   You hear a lock being thrown on the other side of the door, and it opens a crack. "Yeah? What can I do fer ya?" The first voice reveals itself to belong to a stallion -- barely out of his colthood, it seems -- with startling green eyes and an emerald green coat to match. "Can't let you in unless you have some good reason. Boss-mare's orders, y'know?" The stallion chuckles.   "Recruit, you know I detest that term." An elderly mare appears from behind the stallion like a sneaky snake. "Let me attend to our...friend...here while you go tinker with the system. See if you can think of anything else." The stallion hastily backs away from the door, offers the mare a salute, and runs towards the back of the barn.   "There, now some peace and quiet...and less stupid." The mare brushes some sweat from her forehead before opening the door a tad more. "I'm sorry for Recruit's behavior. He's our newest greenhorn, and it shows quite often. Regardless, I'm Scribe Premier. I'm in charge of maintaining the system here on the property. Though, my job hasn't been that easy as of late. The system has been bugging out and I can't seem to figure out why." The mare opens the door enough for you to walk through, but continues to stand in your way. "Now, I heard about your little meaning with ole' Fatass, so I'll cut you a deal. If you can get the computers up and running again, I can spread a little gossip. How's about it?"   With that, the mare steps back and allows you to investigate the innards of the barn more closely. Rows of computer banks and screens showing complicated graphs line the loft, their wires connecting to a variety of robots and other machines on the ground floor. Five of the half-dozen Scribes in the barn are bustling around the upper floor; the sixth, Recruit, is polishing some tools in the back corner.   This is your chance for yourself or someone else to take a quick peek in the Ranger's terminals and find that information you want. Just don't get caught snooping...

 

 

Alizarin bore an expression that simply read 'I am not amused' with Recruit's asking for a password. He was reprimanded by an older mare, a Scribe. Alizarin had been about to explain his reasoning for coming when the Scribe, Premier, explained how she already knew. He instead just nodded his head in response, "Sounds good to me. I've handled some computers in my time, I'll see what I can do."

 

He takes in the interior of the barn as he walks towards the terminals. The environment was familiar to him, but it felt... warmer, and not just because the Trotts weren't in the same snowy climate that the Imperials were. He trotted from computer to computer, checking them for whatever may be causing trouble, taking advantage of the opportunity to scan them for information regarding Shantytown and Haven. Alizarin also took this as an opportunity to search for any sort of transmission received or sent from other chapters, specifically, his. * It wasn't before he spent more than a few minutes at a terminal till he did. He'd had to scrounge, but eventually came across an audio file. Quickly downloading it and wiping the terminal's history of opening the file, he moved on. *

 

(Rolls:

Int. 24

Agility: 33.

Luck: 32)

 

(OOC: * If the text within the asterisks can be considered godmodding, please feel free to ignore that. *)

[Standard User 2,127]

Not really sure what the best course of action was, and frankly not really caring about resolving this whole murder mystery nonsense, Raptor ended up just wandering the compound, reveling in the stares he got from the rangers. Eventually he ended up wandering back towards the exit. Perhaps he would just wait for the others there. He didn't have the patience for this investigative crap anyway.

[i c wat u did thar.]

 

Standing by the gate (once again closed), you notice that many of the Rangers tend not to look in your direction. Those that do shy away if they make eye contact. What a bunch of wussies. 

 

 

 

Guardian Angel rose an eyebrow quizically. "Wait, why would he stop sending recon teams, how else is this chapter supposed to find technology?" He asked the shy mare. On a side note he turned to the spitting mare. "Blow hard enough and the spit should just go through the rebreather," he told her.

 

The spit-rebreather'd mare huffs. "Liksh I need helpsh from you." She pivots on her hoof and walks briskly for the farmhouse.

 

Petal Dance shrugs. "He said it was because that the wasteland is too dangerous in recent months. A different part of the Trottingham division was almost massacred by hellhounds a couple of weeks ago, and Star Paladin Pot Belly says that he doesn't want that to happen to us; that he cares too much for us. He really is a sweet stallion," she says, blushing slightly. "But sometimes I-I think he cares a little too much. He won't send anyone out for recon missions or to help civilians unless he deem the survivability at one-hundred percent. And those other ponies could use our help sometimes...

 

"But what can we do? He's our Star Paladin and we just follow orders." Her voice trails off as she once again looks out into the distance. "I wish I could help you with your foal situation, but Star Paladin Pot Belly has us tied up here."

 

 

 

 

 

Alizarin bore an expression that simply read 'I am not amused' with Recruit's asking for a password. He was reprimanded by an older mare, a Scribe. Alizarin had been about to explain his reasoning for coming when the Scribe, Premier, explained how she already knew. He instead just nodded his head in response, "Sounds good to me. I've handled some computers in my time, I'll see what I can do."

 

He takes in the interior of the barn as he walks towards the terminals. The environment was familiar to him, but it felt... warmer, and not just because the Trotts weren't in the same snowy climate that the Imperials were. He trotted from computer to computer, checking them for whatever may be causing trouble, taking advantage of the opportunity to scan them for information regarding Shantytown and Haven. Alizarin also took this as an opportunity to search for any sort of transmission received or sent from other chapters, specifically, his. * It wasn't before he spent more than a few minutes at a terminal till he did. He'd had to scrounge, but eventually came across an audio file. Quickly downloading it and wiping the terminal's history of opening the file, he moved on. *

 

(Rolls:

Int. 24

Agility: 33.

Luck: 32)

 

(OOC: * If the text within the asterisks can be considered godmodding, please feel free to ignore that. *)

 

 

Luck (to find the audio file): Success; you now have the audio file downloaded. Now you just have to find the password used to encrypt it. 

 

Int (to fix the terminals) + Luck: You're not quite sure what you did: a few entries here, a couple buttons pressed there...and the lights flicker out.

 

"Uh, excuse me! What the fuck? do you think you're doing!" Scribe Premier screams from the ground floor. You can hear the confused mumbling of the other Scribes milling about in the near-darkness, occasionally bumping into each other or knocking over a wrack of tools. You can also hear one very angry-sounding mare climbing the staircase to beat your butt into the ground.

 

Thankfully, the lights come back on, at a slightly brighter intensity than before.

 

Premier reaches the top of the stairs and looks at your handiwork (hoofiwork? Who knows. Silly ponies.) on the screen. She gives a satisfied nod before speaking. "Well, whatever you did, you forced a restart of the system. Definitely isn't back to where it should be, but we can start fixing it from here. I suppose I ought to thank you." She gives you a tentative hoofshake before continuing. 

 

"Oh, I suppose you wanna chat now. Lessee...you did me one favor, so I suppose I can do you one in return. I have good dish on Pot Belly, Beanie Toe, or the Trottingham chapter." She smiles devilishly. "Which do you wanna hear about, pal?"

[00Pony 286]

 

 

Luck (to find the audio file): Success; you now have the audio file downloaded. Now you just have to find the password used to encrypt it.    Int (to fix the terminals) + Luck: You're not quite sure what you did: a few entries here, a couple buttons pressed there...and the lights flicker out.   "Uh, excuse me! What the fuck  do you think you're doing!" Scribe Premier screams from the ground floor. You can hear the confused mumbling of the other Scribes milling about in the near-darkness, occasionally bumping into each other or knocking over a wrack of tools. You can also hear one very angry-sounding mare climbing the staircase to beat your butt into the ground.   Thankfully, the lights come back on, at a slightly brighter intensity than before.   Premier reaches the top of the stairs and looks at your handiwork (hoofiwork? Who knows. Silly ponies.) on the screen. She gives a satisfied nod before speaking. "Well, whatever you did, you forced a restart of the system. Definitely isn't back to where it should be, but we can start fixing it from here. I suppose I ought to thank you." She gives you a tentative hoofshake before continuing.    "Oh, I suppose you wanna chat now. Lessee...you did me one favor, so I suppose I can do you one in return. I have good dish on Pot Belly, Beanie Toe, or the Trottingham chapter." She smiles devilishly. "Which do you wanna hear about, pal?"

 

Alizarin smiled as his helmet's E.F.S displayed a notice that he'd successfully retrieved the sound file. Looks like his luck was holding out. He mentally scrolled through the few files he had till he found it and selected it and... It was encrypted with a passkey, "Shit."

 

Alizarin deadpanned, not honestly surprised but still irritated that just maybe his luck wasn't up to par. Then just as if to add to the insult, all the lights in the barn died. Yeah, his luck was definitely just toying with him now. 

 

He heard Scribe Premier shouting, followed by the sound of angry hoofsteps on stairs. He sighed as he turned, grumbling, "Son of a..."

 

And then the lights came back on even brighter than before. Okay, maybe his luck was still friendly, "Thank you Luna..."

He whispered under his breath as Premier trotted up to him, commenting that he had forced a restart of the system and provided them somewhere to start in fixing it properly, and she thanked him. While he wasn't lying when he'd said he tinkered with computers in the past, he had failed to mention he had the help of a Ranger Scribe while doing it.

 

Premier, upholding her end of the deal with a smile, went on to give him a choice between hearing what she had to say about the Beanie Toe, Pot Belly or the Chapter itself. Alizarin furrowed his brow as he thought about it. He glanced back at the terminals and the rest of the barn, then back to her, "I think I'll hear what you have to say about the Chapter itself."

 

(OOC: I literally sat here for an hour trying to figure out what I wanted him to choose.)

[Standard User 2,127]

Alizarin smiled as his helmet's E.F.S displayed a notice that he'd successfully retrieved the sound file. Looks like his luck was holding out. He mentally scrolled through the few files he had till he found it and selected it and... It was encrypted with a passkey, "Shit."

 

Alizarin deadpanned, not honestly surprised but still irritated that just maybe his luck wasn't up to par. Then just as if to add to the insult, all the lights in the barn died. Yeah, his luck was definitely just toying with him now. 

 

He heard Scribe Premier shouting, followed by the sound of angry hoofsteps on stairs. He sighed as he turned, grumbling, "Son of a..."

 

And then the lights came back on even brighter than before. Okay, maybe his luck was still friendly, "Thank you Luna..."

He whispered under his breath as Premier trotted up to him, commenting that he had forced a restart of the system and provided them somewhere to start in fixing it properly, and she thanked him. While he wasn't lying when he'd said he tinkered with computers in the past, he had failed to mention he had the help of a Ranger Scribe while doing it.

 

Premier, upholding her end of the deal with a smile, went on to give him a choice between hearing what she had to say about the Beanie Toe, Pot Belly or the Chapter itself. Alizarin furrowed his brow as he thought about it. He glanced back at the terminals and the rest of the barn, then back to her, "I think I'll hear what you have to say about the Chapter itself."

 

(OOC: I literally sat here for an hour trying to figure out what I wanted him to choose.)

 

Premier shrugs, taking a seat on a small pile of hay bales nearby. "Alrighty, friend. Let's see here...

 

"The Elder of the Trottingham chapter appointed Pot Belly as Star Paladin a couple of years ago. Heh, you should've seen him in his prime. That stallion was a demon on the battlefield. But once you get put into a job that has you sitting on your ass more often than fighting...well, things tend to go south. Figuratively and literally." She laughs. "Heh. Fat jokes."

 

Coughing into her hoof, she continues. "Everypony is pretty resentful of Pot Belly these days -- they don't see him as a competent Star Paladin. Me? I don't really care. I just work the machines and push some papers; I don't have to worry about going out into the field." Her gaze grows cross. "Yeah, not long ago he stopped sending recon teams out into the wastes. Said it was too dangerous and somepony will get hurt. I think he's getting soft on us." 

 

She shrugs again and shuffles around on the hay bales, finding a more comfortable position. "There's been talk about 'replacing' Pot Belly. Now, I don't know what that means, but in context it can't be too good. The Elder would never let Pot Belly leave his position unless he kicked the bucket or something happened to force the Elder's hoof.

 

"Oh, speaking of the Elder: he's instigated a couple new 'top-secret' projects. He won't even tell us who is in on them -- totally black ops, if you think about it.

 

"Anyway, there's the dish I got. Hope you learned something fun."

 

 

@Alex Kennedy:

 

Perception + Luck: Standing idly by the gate, you catch parts of a conversation going on between the two wrestling ponies.

 

"So- unf, how was your last recon mission?" The first stallion's tone clearly indicates that he is joking.

 

"What last mission? What's a recon mission?" The second stallion's tone matches the first. "Damned Pot Belly and his stupid pacifisticism."

 

"Pacifism, moron."

 

"You know what?" The second stallion throws a hoof around the first's legs, catching him by surprise. Before he can maneuver out of his opponent's grasp, the first stallion is pinned. "You read too much. Tain't good for your brain. Maybe that's why you haven't been on any recon missions lately."

 

"Actually...get off me, tubby!" The first stallion pushes the second off of him and puts himself into a seated position, dusting off his armor. "Can you keep a secret? I actually went out about two weeks ago."

 

"What?! Why didn't you say something? I would've begged Pot Belly to let me go too--"

 

"Uh uh uh, my friend." The stallion looks around conspiratorially, then leans in towards his friend. "Beanie Toe sent me. Yup, all true. Said he had a special mission that only one as 'learned' as myself could accomplish." Here the stallion sits up a little straighter, pride and ego radiating from him. "And you'll never guess what it was. All I had to do was--"

 

The stallion notices that you are paying a bit more attention by now. "Yeah? You got a problem or something, Feathers? Mind your own business!"

 

[Opportunity for you or someone else to get a bit of brawling in and extract some more info. A perfect opportunity to test combat in a non-threatening scenario.]

Edited May 12, 2013 by Scoutaloo

[Alex Kennedy 1,228]

 

 

Perception + Luck: Standing idly by the gate, you catch parts of a conversation going on between the two wrestling ponies.   "So- unf, how was your last recon mission?" The first stallion's tone clearly indicates that he is joking.   "What last mission? What's a recon mission?" The second stallion's tone matches the first. "Damned Pot Belly and his stupid pacifisticism."   "Pacifism, moron."   "You know what?" The second stallion throws a hoof around the first's legs, catching him by surprise. Before he can maneuver out of his opponent's grasp, the first stallion is pinned. "You read too much. Tain't good for your brain. Maybe that's why you haven't been on any recon missions lately."   "Actually...get off me, tubby!" The first stallion pushes the second off of him and puts himself into a seated position, dusting off his armor. "Can you keep a secret? I actually went out about two weeks ago."   "What?! Why didn't you say something? I would've begged Pot Belly to let me go too--"   "Uh uh uh, my friend." The stallion looks around conspiratorially, then leans in towards his friend. "Beanie Toe sent me. Yup, all true. Said he had a special mission that only one as 'learned' as myself could accomplish." Here the stallion sits up a little straighter, pride and ego radiating from him. "And you'll never guess what it was. All I had to do was--"   The stallion notices that you are paying a bit more attention by now. "Yeah? You got a problem or something, Feathers? Mind your own business!"   [Opportunity for you or someone else to get a bit of brawling in and extract some more info. A perfect opportunity to test combat in a non-threatening scenario.]

 

Raptor walked over to them, cracking his knuckles (I think the joints in talons are still called knuckles, anyway). "Maybe I do have a problem. And if you're looking for a fight, I'd be glad to give you one. In fact, I'll make you a deal: if I win you tell just what happened on that mission of yours, and if you win-" here he barely stifled his laughter at the idea of this soft creature beating him "-well, I guess I'll have to owe you something. How about it?"

[00Pony 286]

 

 

Premier shrugs, taking a seat on a small pile of hay bales nearby. "Alrighty, friend. Let's see here...   "The Elder of the Trottingham chapter appointed Pot Belly as Star Paladin a couple of years ago. Heh, you should've seen him in his prime. That stallion was a demon on the battlefield. But once you get put into a job that has you sitting on your ass more often than fighting...well, things tend to go south. Figuratively and literally." She laughs. "Heh. Fat jokes."   Coughing into her hoof, she continues. "Everypony is pretty resentful of Pot Belly these days -- they don't see him as a competent Star Paladin. Me? I don't really care. I just work the machines and push some papers; I don't have to worry about going out into the field." Her gaze grows cross. "Yeah, not long ago he stopped sending recon teams out into the wastes. Said it was too dangerous and somepony will get hurt. I think he's getting soft on us."    She shrugs again and shuffles around on the hay bales, finding a more comfortable position. "There's been talk about 'replacing' Pot Belly. Now, I don't know what that means, but in context it can't be too good. The Elder would never let Pot Belly leave his position unless he kicked the bucket or something happened to force the Elder's hoof.   "Oh, speaking of the Elder: he's instigated a couple new 'top-secret' projects. He won't even tell us who is in on them -- totally black ops, if you think about it.   "Anyway, there's the dish I got. Hope you learned something fun."    

 

 

 

Alizarin leaned himself against a nearby support, listening to Premier talking with interest. A rather foalish chuckle did manage to slip past his lips at the jab on Pot Belly. He quickly stowed his immaturity and continued to listen.

 

Premier coughed into her hoof to compose herself before continuing. She reminded Alizarin vaguely of the Scribe that had been assigned to his Squadron, a bright eyed young mare with an endearingly bubbly personality named Axio. Premier was older, obviously, and certainly more serious. She did seem to have a semi childish sense of humor.

 

Alizarin nodded as she finished, "I certainly have." The Star Paladin not sending out recon teams and talk about removing him? The Elder instating top secret projects? Very fun indeed. Alizarin looked at Premier, studying her face as he spoke, "I forgive if I seem to be prying, but do you think that there may be a plot to assassinate Pot Belly? Or at least render him unfit for duty? Forgive me if I am out of place, but it is a possibility." He leaned closer, the lights reflecting off his eyes in a crystal-like hexagon, and dropped the volume of his voice down to a little above a whisper, "Or perhaps the Star Paladin is a part of one of the Elder's projects? Unless he sees Pot Belly as a competent leader because of his experiences in the field, what other reason would he have to keep him here? Perhaps his refusal to send out recon teams is a part of this experiment?" - "Almost like a Stable Project." Alizarin thought to himself, - "You don't need to answer me if you don't want to. You already payed your favor to me, my friend, there is no need to go buying into any theories from a stranger that might cause unneeded trouble and dissent."

 

He shrugs, returning to his original stance, looking at her, "On an unrelated note, would you mind telling me a bit more about yourself? What's your story?"

[Ghostpony 17]

Once outside Seeker actually gave the Steel Ranger's compound a once over. After a moment of searching, he soon noticed that there were a lot of blue-robed ponies mulling around the compound, as they moved from one side of the compound to the other side. Seeing that the scribe wasn't outside, and noticed the only place he hadn't been in, but when he saw Alizarin heading there. Seeker's curiosity was split, between finding the scribe or figuring out what his companion was doing, but he quickly reasoned that finding the scribe would be more useful then trying to ease drop on his companion. After seeing what Alizarin had to put up with to get in the barn, Seeker quickly walked into the barn before somepony could close the door on him.

 

After walking into the barn Seeker's eyes began to drift from the rows of computer banks and screens showing complicated graphs line the loft, their wires connecting to a variety of robots and other machines on the ground floor. When the lights went off Seeker used his wings as he took into the air, the whole barn had gone dark in a matter of moments. hearing a mares voice in the dark, Seeker realized that the lights going off must have been somepony messing with one of the computers. The Moment the lights came back, the seemed to comeback just a bit brighter as he landed on the ground floor as he continued his search.

 

[[Perception: 36]]

[[OOC: sorry it took so long, my brain been dead all day]]

[Standard User 2,127]

 

 

 

Alizarin leaned himself against a nearby support, listening to Premier talking with interest. A rather foalish chuckle did manage to slip past his lips at the jab on Pot Belly. He quickly stowed his immaturity and continued to listen.

 

Premier coughed into her hoof to compose herself before continuing. She reminded Alizarin vaguely of the Scribe that had been assigned to his Squadron, a bright eyed young mare with an endearingly bubbly personality named Axio. Premier was older, obviously, and certainly more serious. She did seem to have a semi childish sense of humor.

 

Alizarin nodded as she finished, "I certainly have." The Star Paladin not sending out recon teams and talk about removing him? The Elder instating top secret projects? Very fun indeed. Alizarin looked at Premier, studying her face as he spoke, "I forgive if I seem to be prying, but do you think that there may be a plot to assassinate Pot Belly? Or at least render him unfit for duty? Forgive me if I am out of place, but it is a possibility." He leaned closer, the lights reflecting off his eyes in a crystal-like hexagon, and dropped the volume of his voice down to a little above a whisper, "Or perhaps the Star Paladin is a part of one of the Elder's projects? Unless he sees Pot Belly as a competent leader because of his experiences in the field, what other reason would he have to keep him here? Perhaps his refusal to send out recon teams is a part of this experiment?" - "Almost like a Stable Project." Alizarin thought to himself, - "You don't need to answer me if you don't want to. You already payed your favor to me, my friend, there is no need to go buying into any theories from a stranger that might cause unneeded trouble and dissent."

 

He shrugs, returning to his original stance, looking at her, "On an unrelated note, would you mind telling me a bit more about yourself? What's your story?"

 

 

Premier shrugs again. "Hell if I know why we're here. And Pot Belly could be a part of one of those projects. For all you know," she says, winking playfully. "I'm a part of one of 'em." She sighs and reclines further into the hay bales. "Oh, anywaaay...ever heard of politics, kid? It kind of dominates the Steel Rangers when you get towards the top of the food chain -- at least, that is how it is in Trottingham. I'm willing to bet my left hoof that there are no less than three plots against our Elder alone. Wouldn't surprise me if somepony wanted to take a crack at the position of Star Paladin.

 

"But that's enough about all that political mumbo-jumbo. You say you wanna hear about me?" The tip of her tail flicks subtly as she looks you over. "Not much to say. Born into the Rangers, found my love of machines and computers, killed some raiders, got sent out on assignment to a piss-poor village in the middle of nowhere, met a nosy but cute stallion." She winks again.

 

[Oh, hell no. Can ponies also be cougars?...]

 

"What about you, mister Ranger? Tell me a bit about-- well, looky here. Is that one of yours?" Premier looks over the edge of the loft, gesturing towards an unwelcome griffon. "I wonder how he got in here..."

 

@Ghostpony: Perception: you discover nothing of interest aside from Alizarin and an older mare talking up in the loft-- oh, no, wait, she sees you. Kind of hard to miss a griffon in a barn.

 

 

 

Raptor walked over to them, cracking his knuckles (I think the joints in talons are still called knuckles, anyway). "Maybe I do have a problem. And if you're looking for a fight, I'd be glad to give you one. In fact, I'll make you a deal: if I win you tell just what happened on that mission of yours, and if you win-" here he barely stifled his laughter at the idea of this soft creature beating him "-well, I guess I'll have to owe you something. How about it?"

 

[And so it begins. Bear with me/us, as I have no real idea how combat should work. But we'll figure something out that works for everyone.]

 

The second pony -- pale aqua, with icy blue eyes to match -- jabs at your chest as you walk into the firing range. He begins circling you, saying "I thought griffons hunt in packs or whatever. Where's your buddies? Did they abandon you, you big, dumb bird? I would. Especially one that can't see such an obvious trap."

 

He's right: the first pony was able to maneuver behind you, poised to strike. He leaps, yelling "Boom, headshot!"...

 

Agility roll - 33: ...and you catch him by the neck in your talons. One thing they forgot: griffons are fast. You can see the realization in his eyes as they roll from smug confidence to utter terror.

 

[Damn. I was hoping to get a griffon-riding thing going. Oh, well. The rolls are what the rolls are. Make any rolls you want to continue combat for what you think equals one 'turn.' Let's trying leaving turn length up to the individual and see if we can get some fun/funny combat rolling that way. If this doesn't work or if people don't like it, I do have another idea that we can discuss in the OOC.]

[Alex Kennedy 1,228]

 

 

[And so it begins. Bear with me/us, as I have no real idea how combat should work. But we'll figure something out that works for everyone.]   The second pony -- pale aqua, with icy blue eyes to match -- jabs at your chest as you walk into the firing range. He begins circling you, saying "I thought griffons hunt in packs or whatever. Where's your buddies? Did they abandon you, you big, dumb bird? I would. Especially one that can't see such an obvious trap."   He's right: the first pony was able to maneuver behind you, poised to strike. He leaps, yelling "Boom, headshot!"...   Agility roll - 33: ...and you catch him by the neck in your talons. One thing they forgot: griffons are fast. You can see the realization in his eyes as they roll from smug confidence to utter terror.   [Damn. I was hoping to get a griffon-riding thing going. Oh, well. The rolls are what the rolls are. Make any rolls you want to continue combat for what you think equals one 'turn.' Let's trying leaving turn length up to the individual and see if we can get some fun/funny combat rolling that way. If this doesn't work or if people don't like it, I do have another idea that we can discuss in the OOC.]

 

(This system is fine by me, but I'd probably be fine no matter what you did, so I'll let everyone else decide.)

 

He squeezed the ponies neck harder, just barely enough for his talons to draw blood. "That wasn't smart. Not at all. And no, my 'buddies' didn't abandon me, I never had any to begin with. I fight alone. I don't need need a flock at my back to deal with idiots like you." He turned back to the other pony and flung the stallion he was holding at him.

 

Strength: 40

 

(Would it be strength? I don't know, that seems as appropriate as anything.)

[SilverHeart 741]

Malik sighed. He hated it when he was right. Well, sometimes. Other than the times he wished he wasn't right, he was pretty stoked about being right 90.5% of the time. Er, that is, he would be if he wasn't fed up with the Rangers by now. Malik has stumbled upon better chapels before, where the only real fault was the Rangers being a bit too overprotective of their citizens and smothering everything in safety procedures.

 

His frustration, however, was replaced by curiosity as Silver Heart stepped out of the barn. What was she doing out there? Weren't they going to (gently) interrogate the Rangers? Malik slowly followed behind, wondering if maybe she felt sick and needed some fresh air.

 

"What 'chya doin'?" The inquisitive bot asked after a few moments of silence.

 

Silver Heart eyed the patch of grass in front of the window, apparently somepony had been listening to their conversation earlier. Sadly it seemed that whoever had been there had already left. Maybe they left a trail. Silver Heart looked around once more thinking she had maybe missed something else.

 

(I'm not really sure what else to do. Perception Roll: 37)

 

"Oh, hi Malik." She said as she continued looking around. "I thought I had heard someone outside the window earlier. Since I'm not really sure what else to do I thought I may as well take a look."

[UnitP0N13 25]

"Perhaps I can be of service then! I'll help look for a trail!" Malik declared in his usual sing-song voice, immediately eye the ground, practically scraping his eyes into the ground.

 

A good portion of scrapes and dust has collected on his eyes over the years, clouding his vision somewhat, but his eyesight was still decent. He really should get them replaced, though. However, he hasn't heard about any Pegatron mechanics out there in the Wasteland, or any unbroken TV sets, so any chance of replacements would be slim. Nonetheless, he searched for the eavesdropper's tracks.

 

(Perception roll to assist: 27)

[00Pony 286]

 

 

Premier shrugs again. "Hell if I know why we're here. And Pot Belly could be a part of one of those projects. For all you know," she says, winking playfully. "I'm a part of one of 'em." She sighs and reclines further into the hay bales. "Oh, anywaaay...ever heard of politics, kid? It kind of dominates the Steel Rangers when you get towards the top of the food chain -- at least, that is how it is in Trottingham. I'm willing to bet my left hoof that there are no less than three plots against our Elder alone. Wouldn't surprise me if somepony wanted to take a crack at the position of Star Paladin.   "But that's enough about all that political mumbo-jumbo. You say you wanna hear about me?" The tip of her tail flicks subtly as she looks you over. "Not much to say. Born into the Rangers, found my love of machines and computers, killed some raiders, got sent out on assignment to a piss-poor village in the middle of nowhere, met a nosy but cute stallion." She winks again.   [Oh, hell no. Can ponies also be cougars?...]   "What about you, mister Ranger? Tell me a bit about-- well, looky here. Is that one of yours?" Premier looks over the edge of the loft, gesturing towards an unwelcome griffon. "I wonder how he got in here..."

 

 

 

 

Alizarin shrugs slightly at her, "I suppose so."

 

He nodded when Premier explained the significance of politics in the Trottingham Chapter's dealings. They were also different from the Imperials in that respect. Those in the Imperial Chapter, - or Ferrum Zelotes as they were commonly known by the Wasteland's locals - were brought up to believe that loyalty to the Elder and his Council was to be absolute, and any rank that wasn't Elder or Council were expected to be in the field. Being a Star Paladin or Senior Paladin only meant more troops to command, as well as the rights to order simple Paladins and their Knights. Political assassinations were a rare problem, especially since the Elder's successor is only chosen from among the previous one's family.

 

Alizarin was surprised that she'd consented to telling her story so easily. He had asked simply out of habit, a trait he picked up during his time running with the Longcoat Company - a group of mercenaries that were notorious for their elite members and the long brown coats they wore among the locals of the IW - and spending multiple years around Axio, and her tendency to ask that question to just about anything friendly to her. He listened nonetheless, he had asked after all. Premier told him in a short and simple fashion, ending it with "met a cute but nosy stallion" and a wink. Wait, what? His left eyebrow raised, though it was hidden behind the lens of his helmet. That couldn't have been directed at him, could it? Certainly not! But... She had eyed him up after he asked about her story - despite having missed her tail twitch - and she was certainly friendly towards him despite never hearing his name. "She can't view me in that way, could she? She's easily a 'Mediocris ore Superstes', or 'Mediocris Superstes'.  Hell! She even called me 'kid'!"

 

When Premier began to ask about his story he was snapped back into reality. He had lied to the Rangers, telling them he was still part of the Imperial Chapter. He hadn't thought up a story explaining why he was this far south, traveling with only one other Ranger, alongside two Griffins, a Stable mare and a robotic Pegasus. Alizarin was fully prepared to mention, "Have a wife and child back home" somewhere early on in his story. It wasn't a complete lie, as he did indeed have a wife and young son that he left behind when he defected. Luckily, before she could finish her question, Premier's attention was drawn to Seeker, who had managed to slip his way inside. Alizarin looked relieved when her attention was no longer on him, and trotted over to the railing, "I believe so." He said as he went. He looked at Seeker with a grateful expression, which he tried to keep hidden from Premier. While he was uncomfortable with the implications of what she possibly thought of him, he couldn't bring himself to outright say it, "Dammit... Maybe she has a son, and I just remind of her of him?" He thought, trying to reason with himself.

 

 

(OOC: "[Oh, hell no. Can ponies also be cougars?...]" Holy crap, this made me laugh hysterically for a solid minute.

Also, all the words I have placed between apostrophes are various Latin words. It's part of my head canon that the Crystal Ponies commonly used Latin words as names or titles, and that was a cultural trait adopted by the denizens of the Imperial Wastelands. 'Ferrum Zelotes' translates roughly to 'Steel Zealots', 'Mediocris ore Superstes' translates roughly into 'Edge of Average Survivor'. The back story of that term has to do with the average life expectancy of Ponies in the IW that aren't constantly out exploring or fighting, which is anywhere between 60 and 70. You are known as a Mediocris ore Superstes once you reach the age of 47, and all through 50. You become a Mediocris Superstes at 60, and keep that title until you pass 70 and any age beyond, where you then become known as a 'Benedictus Reginae', 'Blessed by the Princesses', which refers to both Celestia and Luna, alongside Cadance, though that is mainly just among Crystals.)

[Half-Note 273]

Guardian Angel frowned at the harsh words of the mare that walked away. He then turned to the other mare and smiled. "Maybe you can help me, I'm new around here and could use somepony to guide me around and introduce me to everypony. Not to mention I like ponies who care about others," he told her with a bow of hos head.

[Standard User 2,127]

@@SilverHeart, @@UnitP0N13:

 

Your combined efforts to find anymore clues have paid off. There are faint hoofprints in the dirt, but they look...off. They are erratically placed and of varying depths, almost as if somepony was trying to make their tracks look as if they were created over several days. The trail wraps around the side of the house and through the back door. The door is firmly shut, but the windows are left open just a crack. Voices can be heard coming from inside.

 

@@Half-Note:

 

"Oh," Petal Dance says. "Well...that's very sweet of you to say. I...suppose I can show you around a bit."  She flicks her tail nervously and paws at the ground, not daring to look directly at you. "But no one really talks to me here. They say I'm too shy and don't deserve to be a R-Ranger..." She bites her lip before she can tear up too much and continues with a shaky breath. "But if you really want to, I can show you around."

 

She glances over your armor and blushes. "You're not like the other Rangers, are you? You're nice."

 

@@00Pony:

[OOC: Dat backstory. Anyway, Premier is like the grandmother that gets attached to any younger guy who reminds her of a grandson. She really is a nice mare. Also, she's single, boys. Wink wink.  And now that I'm here, I realize that we kind of need @Ghostpony to post. And no, is it not because I'm tired and lazy and don't want to post.]

 

@@Alex Kennedy:

 

Strength: Succeeds, in a very painful manner. The two ponies collide in a jumble of flailing hooves and snarling insults, many of which are aimed at your mother or similar family member. Mister blue pony finally succeeds in pushing his less-than-agile friend off and stands up with a huff. 

 

"So the pigeon is quick. Alright, alright, I can dig that." The second pony looks over at your original opponent, now curled up in the fetal position and rubbing his raw neck, choking back sobs. "But I know when I'm outmatched. And taking out Breeze here like that...shit, he's the toughest som'bitch I know." 

 

"Boulder, don't do it, man," Breeze coughs. "That bird is a fuckin' psychopath. Forget about me. Save yourself." He lazily lifts a hoof up and flicks it toward the gate. "Run while you can." He coughs again, struggling out a meek chuckle.

 

"Sorry, bud, but nopony -- and certainly no buzzard -- hurts my friends and gets away with it." Boulder casually walks over to one of the crates, reaches inside, and pulls out what looks to be a small chainsaw with a mouth grip for a handle. "Whaddya thay, bird? Wanna danth?" And, without warning, he lunges.

 

[OOC: These aren't your only options, but just so people know that there are a variety of things that you can try in combat: Strength to overpower the attack, throw a rock/barrel/pony, rip off your armor and use the sharp edges as a sword; Agility to dodge the attack or jump on the pony's back; Endurance to take the blow LIKE A MAN; Charisma to talk the pony down (although you would need to stop the attack first...or not, your call); Intelligence to power down the device; etc. Don't feel like combat is all brawn. Brains can win too.]

[Alex Kennedy 1,228]

 

 

Don't feel like combat is all brawn. Brains can win too.

 

(Screw that, I wanna smash something.)

 

Raptor sighed as the pony came at him, this time with a weapon. "You really think this is a good idea? Alright, let's go." With the help of his wings, Raptor launched off the ground in an attempt to dodge the incoming blow while simultaneously attempting to tear the chainsaw out of the pony's grip with his talons.

 

Agility: 22

Strength:40 

[Ghostpony 17]

As Seeker walked through the barn there hadn't been much that caught his attention. True if he had found the rangers or the robots they had been working on earlier in his travels, he might have acted like a foal in a candy store, but once somepony sees them out in the waste they seem to almost blend into the background.

As Seeker walked he could feel eyes on him, after all he was the only Griffin in a barn full of ponies. Every time Seeker eyes drifted, to where he felt the eyes were, he only watched Scribe after Scribe turn their head. Seeker only gave a light chuckle as they tried to hide that they were staring at him, but seeing that neither of them was the pony he was looking for, Seeker was about to turn around and leave, but when he felt his ears twitch a bit when he heard a familiar voice, he saw the loft overhead, a small smile crossed his feetchers when he saw Alizarin’s grateful expression as he tried to hide it from the older Scribe as the two looked down on him. With a few flaps of his wings he was already eye level with them. “Can I be in some assistance?” Seeker asked as he looked at the two.

[Half-Note 273]

@@Half-Note:

 

"Oh," Petal Dance says. "Well...that's very sweet of you to say. I...suppose I can show you around a bit." She flicks her tail nervously and paws at the ground, not daring to look directly at you. "But no one really talks to me here. They say I'm too shy and don't deserve to be a R-Ranger..." She bites her lip before she can tear up too much and continues with a shaky breath. "But if you really want to, I can show you around."

 

She glances over your armor and blushes. "You're not like the other Rangers, are you? You're nice."

 

"Don't listen to what other rangers tell you. I think the Steel Rangers should always be willing to help ponies, and if anypony gives you crap about how kind you are tell them to take it up with me," Guardian Angel told Petal Dance "The rangers were kind enough to take me in as a foal so I guess I Want to believe they are all like you," he told her. "Anyway, Could you lead me to whatever serves as your barracks?" Edited May 21, 2013 by Half-Note

[UnitP0N13 25]

Malik would have no hope of sneaking up to the window without alerting anypony inside the house: his armor plating was too loud. Instead, he decided to try a more direct approach, maybe teach a few ponies that a flimsy door won't mean a damn thing when you've got a Pegatron knocking at your door. Hopefully, this will also intimidate them into not making any sudden moves or making a run for it.

 

He stepped back a little, winding up for his ambush, and leapt at the door with all of his strength.

 

(Strength Roll to bust down the door: 44)