open Fallout Equestria New Beginnings

[Guardian Braveheart 23]

He looked at his 'leader' who was now beside him. He didn't have much, it seems. Just a pistol and a...Sword? Not much packing heat, but it can be useful.

 

"Hey, I didn't get your name," he said to him. "It's Optyx right? Are you ready for this?"

 

He took out his guns again, looking to see if they're all loaded. After that, he levitated up Night Strike to his side, ready for anything that might happen.

[Anneal 2,197]

Secant, a bit interested in the weapon Knight was holding, touching the cold metallic surface and observing the suppressor. "Is that what I think it is..." Secant commented, staring interestingly on the weapon, beginning to shoot out more facts. "Sweet Celestia, it's the Lunar Scout Model 501! The ones that was historically used in by the 1st Expeditionary Reconnaissance Battalion of the Royal Equestrian Special Forces Division during the war!"

 

Again, he started dozing off onto irrelevant directions. "The most important one being the Shattered Hoof Ridge campaign, where the scouts of the battalion was recorded to eliminate at least four hundred zebra troopers before they fell back. Guess even stealth armor can't stop bullets. Speaking of such, the sniper rifle uses the most recent tech, recent being a few years before the nuclear bombings. Recoil compensator, an extended magazine, usage of lightweight metal alloys, and modified to decreasing degradation in the desert."

 

The attention soon turned to Optyx's pistol. "...And what's that?" he inquired. "I don't think I have seen these types of pistols in the Wasteland, nor in my studies...best guess is that they're rare. What ammunition does it use? How much bullets can be loaded into the magazine? Does it have any specific features?"

 

Secant continued with his idle one-sided conversation for the remainder of their time.

[Guardian Braveheart 23]

Well, at least somepony's interested in my gun... he thought.

 

"I don't know all the facts about it, but you mostly said it right," he said to Secant. "This model is pretty different from the rest. It's named Night Strike. By the story I heard in the past about this gun, it was a gift from Ironshod Firearms to Princess Luna after she ruled Equestria. It did struck fear on the Zebra troops, for they say it was Nightmare Moon who used it. It was given to her most loyal guard who lead the attack on Shattered Hoof Ridge. I think I found this one on an Abandoned Barracks which in theory, the guard must've died. The only proof that you know it was a custom gun, is this..."

 

He levitated the sights up to Secant's eye, so he can see what he meant.

 

"In there, Luna's cutie mark is in the Decal. So, this is really Luna's. After much greater inspection. She ordered the production of it without the mark on the sights, for sometimes, it obscures the target. It operates best at night, I should say. The color does blend in the night and the suppression does cut back on the big recoil. So yeah, powerful with less noise. So expect me at the back... always."

[Anneal 2,197]

Crossfeed

 

War. War never changes.

 

If I was able to describe the Equestrian Wasteland to a pony back in the pre-war, they would have called it "post-apocalyptic". Personally, I think the description entirely inaccurate. That would imply that some kind of godly end-of-the-world event where all the righteous ponies would go to Elysium and the wicked heading straight down to Tartarus. I would have preferred the word "death-dominated", though you get the idea.

 

It's a bit hard to explain; I was not very good in telling stories. Might as well start at the beginning.

 

A few decades before I was born, the world was involved in a global conflict called the Great War, but it all wound down to the ponies and the zebras. The idea about war, historically, was basic. To the victor goes the spoils, you snooze, you lose, the winners write the history books, yada yada yada. Nothing new. Except for this war.

 

The ponies intervened and caused tensions with the zebras even before the war, magnified due to an imminent energy crisis. Finally, like the small spark to a powder keg, the massacre at Little Horn started off the Great War. Things took a turn for the worse, and casualties rose up to the millions. 

 

Now there's a lesson to be learned from all this: sometimes being the victor is self-destructive. The Great War was no exception, because in the end, no one ever gained anything out of it, except the end of pre-war civilization and the unacceptable endangerment of life itself.

 

And that's when it happened. Boom. Someone pushed a button and changed the world. Three hours; three hours was all it took to unravel everything ponykind had once known. On that unfortunate day, the sky burned, the earth blackened, and ponies died in a sea of balefire bombs.

 

But don't mind me. I'm just another pony rambling about near-forgotten history.

 

--------------------

 

"Look here, I don't fucking care about your excuses. I want to know why the convoy from New Appleloosa is more than a week late."

 

I sat on a dirty mattress behind the scenes, entertaining myself by observing the argument between Firepower and fear-struck stallion. It wasn't every day that you see an outsider enter your gun factory without being shot at on sight. The Gun Gallopers didn't like exposing themselves to the public – we like to keep our weapon secrets to ourselves – though New Appleloosa was an exception. If you were ever into business in the wasteland, you needed to know the three factors of production: land, labor, and capital. While the Gun Gallopers does indeed create high-quality weapons for our personal use, resources are limited in the wasteland, and we need to get them somewhere. 

 

New Appleloosa was an ideal target, while keeping ourselves out of the spotlight. It was only forty miles due northeast from the factory, and had a good supply of iron we could take to manufacture weapons and ammunition. A few months before, we started trading with the town; so far, the trade between Appleloosa has been favoring us. It was simply a matter of business building, after all.

 

Now for a history lesson: the Gun Gallopers was recently formed almost a year ago, composed of gunsmiths and ponies capable of the business from the west coast of Equestria. Wasteland settlers call us a gang, which I admit may be true. At least it sounds better than "raiders". 

 

One day, the "gang" decided to start a gunrunning business (hence the name), and to their luck, found an abandoned factory formerly used by the National Royal Defense Solutions, which is a pre-war civilian firearms manufacturer; if you ever heard of the silenced .22 RDS-76 SMG, it was made by that company. There, us, the Gun Gallopers, used the factory's equipment to stockpile on our weapon supplies. Moreover, the factory was easy to defend, located nearby a riverbed and having an elevation advantage if any intruder tried to sneak through the building ruins. While we do hope to gain profits from selling our weapons, we are a bit reluctant on whether it would actually benefit to be giving weapons to possibly incapable customers in the long run.

 

"B-but it's because we d-don't have anything to give you!" the outsider stallion stammered, his blue mane mussed and beads of sweat dripping down his yellow face. "New Appleloosa is out of supplies...we're running short on water, food, and –"

 

The stallion was interrupted by an explosive and ear-piercing bang, which made nearly everypony in the factory jump. Even Primer, who was difficult to wake up from a deep sleep, fell off his chair along with the Milsurp Review magazine that was lazily held on his hooves. Everypony suspended what they were doing, staring at Firepower with his revolver drawn and levitated, pointing right at the yellow stallion, who had frozen in place, turning pale. A hole could be seen on the concrete wall, only a few inches from hitting the stallion's head.

 

"I await your supplies within one week from now," Firepower said without any emotion, holstering his revolver. Firepower was "entrepreneur" of the Gun Gallopers, and the red orange unicorn took his job seriously. Noticeably, he had a reloading press for a cutie mark, amber colored eyes, and a pure red mane with a regular cap and goggles. 

 

"You...you ponies..." the yellow stallion stuttered, "you...ponies are crazy!"

 

And with a dash, the stallion was off. Primer, a light green earth pony with tired looking bronze colored eyes, finally cleared his mind. "What just happened?" he murmured, climbing up from the ground. 

 

"Crossfeed," – That's me, I thought – "get this problem straight and see what's going on with our benefactors in New Appleloosa," Firepower demanded. "They better have a good reason why."

[TheLineTrotter 100]

Vincent made his way to the front of town. He had nothing on hand with him aside from his revolver, his black combat armor,what was in his satchel, and the clothes on his back. He noticed the other ponies there, the only two he'd actually found tolerable, talking about weapons. It was interesting, hearing the stallion who considered himself not much of a fighter going all fan-gasm over a gun. He seemed to be more interested in the guns history more than anything, however. As they sat there, waiting, he decided to handle a few things, first, he upholstered the gun and cleaned it... well, tried to. He took such good care of it, it already was shineing. He holstered it again and, instead, took off his combat armor. It took him a minute, but he got it off. Setting it down, he took patches of leather armor, wonder glue, and some spare peices of combat armor and managed to piece together his armor. It would atleast keep him alive a few seconds longer, and bounce more small caliber rounds.

 

(Vincent's gun: http://static-2.nexusmods.com/15/mods/130/images/48570-1-1355114309.jpg )

[Guardian Braveheart 23]

After a quick look at his other guns, he looked up to his teammates.

 

"Optyx, since you're standing there doing nothing at all, maybe you should wait for the others," he said with a disappointed tone. "Vincent, Secant, If you're ready, we'll head out now while there's still light..."

 

He looked up at the cloud cover giving only small fragments of sunshine to the Wasteland.

 

"Ok... some... light. Anyways, the sooner we move, the sooner we get ahead from anyone who might have the same interest as us."

[OG Blaze 269]

After a quick look at his other guns, he looked up to his teammates.

 

"Optyx, since you're standing there doing nothing at all, maybe you should wait for the others," he said with a disappointed tone. "Vincent, Secant, If you're ready, we'll head out now while there's still light..."

 

He looked up at the cloud cover giving only small fragments of sunshine to the Wasteland.

 

"Ok... some... light. Anyways, the sooner we move, the sooner we get ahead from anyone who might have the same interest as us."

Optyx turned his attention towards Straightshot, "If you insist on letting snipers keep a reticle on us at the bright of day then so be it, we'll leave now". Optyx pulled his pistol from his holster, "It's an antique, not just a weapon, apparently the leader of the Ministry of Image asked it to be commissioned by the leader of the Ministry of Wartime Technology. As much as I know the leader of the M.O.I was Rarity hence the name of the gun, Raritys Grace"

[Anneal 2,197]

Secant raised an eye. "Are you sure that pistol is genuine?" he asked, observing Optyx's pistol this time. "It is a curious coincidence that we have not only one, but two ponies, in possession of unique and rare weapons, one of them being from the Ministry Ponies themselves. And while I understand that the New Appleloosa Mayor Mare may have wanted the 'best' to operate this job, I find this downright ridiculous."

 

"And the Ministries are far from here; in Fillydelphia, in fact. So are you telling me that you came from the other side of Equestria to find a gun?" Secant, skeptic as he is, questioned. It seemed to be way too suspicious to be true, and he needed answers. Might as well find them now, while they were trotting towards the Stable.

 

((Seriously, Pizza, you're breaking Fallout Equestria "canon". First of all, the weapon should never be found in the first place. Second of all, the only pony that successfully acquired Rarity's Grace was Murky Number Seven, unless you want to defy the canon of FoE: MN7.))

[OG Blaze 269]

Secant raised an eye. "Are you sure that pistol is genuine?" he asked, observing Optyx's pistol this time. "It is a curious coincidence that we have not only one, but two ponies, in possession of unique and rare weapons, one of them being from the Ministry Ponies themselves. And while I understand that the New Appleloosa Mayor Mare may have wanted the 'best' to operate this job, I find this downright ridiculous."

 

"And the Ministries are far from here; in Fillydelphia, in fact. So are you telling me that you came from the other side of Equestria to find a gun?" Secant, skeptic as he is, questioned. It seemed to be way too suspicious to be true, and he needed answers. Might as well find them now, while they were trotting towards the Stable.

 

((Seriously, Pizza, you're breaking Fallout Equestria "canon". First of all, the weapon should never be found in the first place. Second of all, the only pony that successfully acquired Rarity's Grace was Murky Number Seven, unless you want to defy the canon of FoE: MN7.))

((In this case, yes I do, idk why it has to be super technical, role plays are suppose to be fun just to with it (T_T)))

 

"I don't care if it's real or not, we're not here to talk about my firearms, we're here to get a mission done. So unless you shut up and take the job, you can go stand around and blabber about technicalities all you want somewhere else."

[Guardian Braveheart 23]

((Great, now you spoiled me for Murky Number seven. That's just great. And I was planning to read that after Pink Eyes.))

 

"Can we just stop fighting and go now," he said.

 

He calculated the time of departure and possible time of arrival to their location on his Pipbuck.

 

"Is we go now, we can get there before nightfall. If not, we'll be giving more time to some others that might know the location of our objective."

[TheLineTrotter 100]

Vincent heard the two arguing, sighing rather noticeably. "Who cares if it's genuine or not?If Optyx wants to lie about his gun to make his dick seem bigger, that's his problem. If it's genuine, ooh, cool, good for you. If not? Its still a gun. Guns kill things. Who cares about who use to own them?" He was personally in the same fence as Knight, just wanting to get on with it... he wanted this job done, and so far, everypony here had just been a headache. He just wanted the job done, sooner rather than later. Hell, some employers even payed extra if the job was done fast. "If you're worried about sniper fire, oh brave leader, take solace in the fact that atleast i`ll be the one shot out of the sky. Plenty of warning for you guys." He said with a slightly cocky grin. He flapped his wings, getting just abit off the ground for now, remembering that him and a few others had decided on him flying for recon, although they'd never gotten Optyx approval on this. 

[OG Blaze 269]

Optyx looked at Vincent behind the cover of his helmet, "Do what you please, but don't complain about getting shot and needing medical supervision." Optyx then looked to the others, "I'm assuming you're both coming along in which case I'd appreciate if you shook a leg and started to move." Optyx walked through the gate of Appleoosa and didn't wait for either.

[Anneal 2,197]

((But I didn't spoil anything important about the storyline...speaking of such, I'm trying to finish up Project Horizons, which takes a ridiculously long amount of time to read a chapter. I'll just say that it's Homeric.))

 

Secant gave up on his endeavor, not liking Optyx reaction to the issue. To him, it did matter, as Secant never liked being in the dark. And he didn't like to collaborate with a liar either. An incompetent leader and a virally active alicorn...just how much insane can this group get?

 

"So the Stable is due west of here, about forty or so kilometers, assuming that the Mayor tagged correctly," Secant noted. "So, Mister Optyx , mind if you lead the way?"

[Moonbacon 384]

Optyx looked at Vincent behind the cover of his helmet, "Do what you please, but don't complain about getting shot and needing medical supervision." Optyx then looked to the others, "I'm assuming you're both coming along in which case I'd appreciate if you shook a leg and started to move." Optyx walked through the gate of Appleoosa and didn't wait for either.

 

((is posting again)) @,

 

Moonlight was trying her best to keep silent at not slap the living shit out of Optyx "can we shut the fuck up about guns? why the hell are you leader Optyx why cant Secant be the leader. He's at least a lot better than you" Moonlight said as she followed them outside of new appleoosa 

[OG Blaze 269]

((But I didn't spoil anything important about the storyline...speaking of such, I'm trying to finish up Project Horizons, which takes a ridiculously long amount of time to read a chapter. I'll just say that it's Homeric.))

Secant gave up on his endeavor, not liking Optyx reaction to the issue. To him, it did matter, as Secant never liked being in the dark. And he didn't like to collaborate with a liar either. An incompetent leader and a virally active alicorn...just how much insane can this group get?

"So the Stable is due west of here, about forty or so kilometers, assuming that the Mayor tagged correctly," Secant noted. "So, Mister Optyx , mind if you lead the way?"

Optyx didn't say a word and continued to walk in the direction of the stable. Optyx thought over his choices and possible routes throughout the trail to the stable. There would indubitably be enemy raiders and other things out there but Optyx didn't want to run I to anything with this rag tag team of mercenaries.

[TheLineTrotter 100]

"Oh, don't worry," said Vincent, looking at the so called leader, "I`m always willing to accept responsibility for any maiming, gunshot wounds, laser burns and or death that occurs to me."  As he heard Moonlight, the strange bat-alicorn... thing speak up, he rolled his eyes. "Who cares who's the leader? I bet that if we don't let him play leader, he'll complain to the mare and get our pays cut." He didn't care who was the official leader. Everything would work out in the end, he was sure. He watched the others walking out of town and took to the skies, using his keen eyes to scan the Wasteland around them for any signs of upcoming danger, be it raiders, steel rangers, wildlife, or whatever else the Wasteland wanted to throw at them...

[Anneal 2,197]

Secant shrugged. "I really don't care about the pay," Secant commented. "Nopony said that bottle caps are fiat currency, anyway, since there's nothing to enforce that. At the end of the day, bottle caps are just bottle caps, nothing more. Are we seriously going to argue over glorified junk?"

 

The group moved silently in the desolate wasteland, on the lone road, filled with gravel cracks and rust. Secant assumed this road could being some kind of pre-war "highway", which was described, in the atlas he read in his Stable, a major public road, judging from the familiar sign he saw in pictures. On the metal sign, ridden with holes, dirt, and dust, read in black and bold the number "161". On one side were broken down motor carriages. Secant wondered when the balefire bombs fell...what were the ponies doing? Where were they going? And what were they thinking? 

 

He let the thought escape his mind, strolling on in the land of nothingness.

[Guardian Braveheart 23]

As he followed the group from behind, he constantly looked at his sights from all direction just to be sure they're safe.

 

It's not like I don't believe in the Talons, he thought. They're the best mercs you'll ever get. But, can't be too sure.

 

After much more trotting, he got his binoculars out of his inventory and started looking around if they're even close to their objective.

[TheLineTrotter 100]

At the mention of the bottle caps being nothing more than junk, Vincent merely shrugged. It was true, technically, that realistically the caps were just little bits of pressed metal that ponies had started using as trading after the bombs fell... but, well, technically, wasn't that all that bits were? Little bits of metal that Equestrians had assigned value too? Whatever point Secant was trying to make, it rang hollow to him. He supposed it would have made more sense if something like, say, quality ammo was used as currency instead, something with a real use beyond trade, but he hadn't made the system and had no idea if it would be possible to change it if he wanted too. 

 

As he flew above the others, he kept his eyes out, constantly looking about, his keen eyes searching the terrain for anything out of the ordinary. He was part eagle and part lion, for goddesses sake! If he couldn't see something with his natural eyes, he imagined no one would. He saw a few dots off in the distance, walking along the long abandoned highway towards them.  He assumed raiders, but as they got closer, he saw that they appeared to be a caravan, complete with Brahmin. Although it wasn't important, he flew back down to the group. "Caravan, heading our way... Might be raiders, dressed up for an ambush, but seems unlikely. Just be ready." He stated, before launching back into the air. 

[Anneal 2,197]

Secant was the second to notice a caravan, though it wasn't by his eyes; rather, he had been using the nifty E.F.S. setting on his PipBuck to detect the caravan. Aside from the multiple yellow markers he had on his radar which indicated his "friendly" allies, there was a smaller cluster of yellow dots, which relieved Secant a bit. Which reminded him of something: how did the E.F.S work, anyway? While it was magic-infused, it didn't really add up how it could determine whether a pony was hostile or not. Probably it detected aggressive activity?

 

Secant, however, had better things to deal with. Yellow indeed meant non-hostile, though the last time he remembered, the red marker basically only marked for raiders and gang members. This could mean that it could be anything: a Steel Ranger patrol, traffickers, or a group of slavers. "They don't seem to be raiders," Secant noted. "But you're right – we should be careful."

 

As the distance closed, the caravan slowed down, revealing a brahmin drawn carriage with two mares inside. One was a dust-colored earth pony with a brown baseball cap and goggles, wearing a military-style shirt with a forest green jacket tied up to her waist. Her gray mane was long, straight, and a bit dirty. The other mare that was accompanying the driver has a far darker look, the light red unicorn wearing a light-weight armor with hoof-guards and a slave scarf covering her neck. The armor-clad mare had a submachine gun, most likely 10mm, aiming Secant when she saw the wandering group. 

 

Secant presumed the the dust-colored mare was a merchant, and the mare next to her a mercenary and bodyguard. The mercenary lowered her submachine gun, realizing they weren't hostile. The less buff merchant stuck her head out. "And what are you fine fellows doing out here?" she asked, waving her hoof. 

[Guardian Braveheart 23]

Just another merchant... he thought. At least it's friendly.

 

He just stood behind the group as they got in conversation. He had no caps left for items, plus all his stuff are now necessities for him. He just took his binoculars and started looking around for more hostiles around the area.

 

"We're just passing through," he said. "Going to places. Same as any other traveler in the Wastelands."

[Anneal 2,197]

"Ooh...what places?" The dusty mare curiously asked again, pushing aside the stern-looking mercenary and leaning out of the passenger side window. "Ya know, ah've seen mah fair share of dwellers around here; the road gets mighty uninteresting when ya trying to make a decent living outta sellin' junk."

 

"We're moving westward, towards Dodge Junction," Secant said, in some way telling the truth. "New Appleloosa hired us to get some supplies from some abandoned places, so...now we're doing it."

 

"Supply runners, then?" The mare repeated, finally shrugging. "Alrighty then, good luck on ya searchin'!"

 

"Ahem," the mercenary guard interjected. "Can we move now? We're wasting time here, and I don't want to receive a pay cut because you're talking to some ponies on the road."

 

The mare sighed, sliding back into her driver's seat. The mercenary holstering her submachine gun as well, hanging on the edge of the door stair. "See you folks later, then!" the mare shouted, waving her hoof. 

[Guardian Braveheart 23]

He leaned forward to Secant.

 

"Wait, the Stable is near Dodge Junction?" he whispered. "I've been there once. Hard to say that I saw a stable there."

 

He looked at the merchant fade away from their distance. He moved in forward with the other group, surveying the surroundings again.

[Anneal 2,197]

(Note that I said "towards".  )

 

"No, not really," Secant explained, showing Knight his PipBuck, pointing at the distance of the two markers on the holographic map. "Seventy miles from there, actually, and Old Appleloosa is closer, anyway. Just to clarify, I don't think we should be spreading any kind of word about the Stable we're going to. I don't want to be meeting up with any eavesdropping group or encountering a violent conflict on our way there. Plus, I'm not a pony who would like...killing others."

 

Secant returned his PipBuck, switching the screen back into his inventory organizer mode. "Anyways, we're not far from there. Logically, the Stable might be in some kind of abandoned building in the middle of the desert or some other kind of variation. Back where I was, in Stable 65, they hid the Stable exit from the outside in a motor carriage gas station, near a storage room. It would be logical to assume that this Stable would be hidden as well." Secant stopped his talking, taking a turn on the fork of the road. "We're taking a right, by the way. If my PipBuck is not mistaken, it should be around those desert hills."

[TheLineTrotter 100]

Vincent, was high above and scouting the surrounding wasteland... while also trying to keep an eye on the merchant... oh damn... sometimes he wished his eyes could look two differant ways like Ditzy's! Regardless, he was scanning for any sign of trouble,both from a raider ambush or, as he was still paranoid, the scavanger buck. Never knew for sure...  his keen ears picked up on Knight speaking... Oh yeah, same as any other travelers... a bunch of heavily armed travelers of various creeds and affiliations. Nothing strange there. The exchange was fortunately quick, and Vincent gave a respectful nod to the fellow merc as the two groups parted ways. He heard the others talking, about the location of the Stable. "You said we wouldn't be able to go through the front door,right? Irradiated to all hell.  So... the caverns are in those hills than?" He said, beating his powerful wings above to stay on pace with the group. 

@,

@@Guardian Braveheart,