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 No.595713[Last 50 Posts]

To the west of Baltimare city, a settlement was raised by ponies in post-apocalyptic times, centuries after the war. The 'town' of Hayburg is in reality an old carriage parking lot filled with shacks used as homes, with a ruined hayburger joint in the center of it all. You've come to this particular settlement with reason. While it is not as big as other communities, it is still the biggest town in the Baltimare area. The Brotherhood of Steel deemed it important enough to send one of its scribes here and use it as a place to contract individuals willing to do jobs and perform tasks the Brotherhood itself has no time for.

Usually this is because they are too trivial or time-consuming to waste rangers on.

Sometimes this is because they are too dangerous to waste rangers on.

As unique as it is for the Brotherhood to ask help from outsiders, the particular chapter behind these tasks is understandably busy up north in Fillydelphia. Perhaps this is the reason the ponies in this area are somewhat more sympathetic towards them than elsewhere, where they are most commonly referred to as 'power armored assholes'.

Whatever the case may be, the town is not much further now. You can see the large neon sign perched on top of the hayburger joint already. Only the letters HAYBURG are lit up on said sign. How clever.


You are to reach the town of Hayburg and find work.

Scribe Ol' Worm is certain to have work for you. You've completed a few tasks for the middle aged stallion already. He may not be the most polite or reserved of ponies, but so far he has delivered when it comes to payment.

More often than not there are also bounties placed on the heads of some individuals. You would need to speak to Green Glow, one of the ponies handling security in town. As far as you are aware, the mare is a magician and part of an organization ponies jokingly call 'the magic police'.

Aside from that, the town is home to other ponies who no doubt have their own desires and wishes.


Keep trotting on then if it's not far now.
Keep an eye out for trouble, as usual, but it should be safe from here.


"Cozy place. I doubt it will be hard to find our contact in here."


"Seeing anything Azure?" I say casually.


Everything seems clear. A spritebot is zooming around up ahead, spouting its usual fanfare of patriotic tunes from the old world.



Keep following the group.
"Gosh, as long as the contract aint that dangerous and add extra weight to my pockets then I take it."


"Ah, hear that? Majestic!" I grin with enthusiasm!
Now lets get a gander and see where the spritebot is going too.


How do I roll for perception?


Follow the group, keeping to myself as much as possible. Just another band of mercenaries I've signed on with. Hopefully they don't shoot me in the back like the last ones.


"Just the usual."

That brings me back…. keep walking.


It's not going anywhere in particular, simply floating from one place to the other. They are not a too uncommon sight in the wasteland.

That said, the pink floating robotic heads look a little bit strange, but you're used to them by now.

You roll a d20 and apply your Aptitude modifier to it. Appraisal is done the same way, because it also falls under Apt.

The spritebot zooms past you, completely ignoring you as per usual.


"I say we see what else that scribe wants done."


"We're low on caps anyway."



"Let's try to find this Green Glow."
Perception '1d20+1'

"I guess Green must be a friend of yours." I smirk.

Roll #1 13 + 1 = 14


I groan.
"Aww…. but those scribes act all high and mighty."

I grumble.
"As long as you're the one who speak to them then I'm coming."


"If that's supposed to be a joke, it's dumb."
Smile a bit though.



"Don't worry, sugar. I doubt negotiations will be difficult, we just have to find this pony, find out what she knows, and back out. Easy."


"That seems reasonable. Though they probably just want us to do our work and go. They don't like outsiders."
The voice coming from the fully-covered pony has a strange buzz to it, probably from the cloth covering their mouth.
Any sign of our contact yet?


"True, I do have experience with such things but I just dont like talking to those scribe's."


I frown.
"No way. You're a much better speaker than I am."


You approach the settlement. The guards sitting out their duty in the watch towers set up around it notice you, but otherwise pay no heed. They seem bored, so it has probably been a while since the settlement last saw action.

You know which shack scribe Ol' Worm is holed up in as he's been using it as his office and rarely leaves it.

Green Glow is not on guard duty but seems to be helping out another pony by moving around crates using her telekinesis. Her magic has a sickly green glow.


"Scribe or guard first? Or should we just split up to get it done faster?"



"Perhaps you two could ask our Green Glow if there are any bounties, while I, Hitter and Azure go talk to the Scribe?"


Hmm… approach Green Glow first.
"Good evening. Do you require assistance?"


"Guess the two of us can go to Worm then."
Off to the 'residence' of Worm.


"Yes, we'll meet here again shortly."
I follow Azure at my own pace.


"That could work, you guys handle the scribe's while we go to Green Glow."



I walk over to Green Glow.
"Want help with those boxes?"


Stnad next to Petunia and let her handle the talk.


You've only seen the unicorn in passing before, the last time you were here to collect a job from the brotherhood scribe.

She glances at you as you speak up.
"Depends on the kind of assistance you're offering, stranger."

She shifts her focus over to you, sizing you up for a moment, chuckling.
"No thanks, it's good practice. I can handle a wooden box."

His shack is not much different from the others, being built out of both wood and metal plates. While it doesn't look very pretty, they are quite the sturdy constructs.

Knock on the door?


I slowly look over the building before knocking two times on the door.


"Alright. Do you need anyone on the bounty list shot?"


I look at Green Glow.
"Well if thats the case then everything is sailing smooth." I grin.


Walk in once she knocked.
I don't have all day.


"I'm flexible."


Aside from a few dusty small windows, there's not much to look at.

You knock.

And Azure Flower walks in before an answer is given.

Inside, Ol' Worm is sitting behind a desk. It's rather chaotic in here, with bits and bobs lying around everywhere. The scribe is wearing his usual outfit and doesn't take his eyes off of his terminal as you enter.
"Yes, what are you bothering me now for?"

"Actually, things have been pretty calm lately. I reckon it has something to do with the Baltimare raiders having a bit of a civil war among themselves at the moment."

"That said… there might be something. Any of you fellows familiar with magic at all?"


I laugh.
"Stupid scum."


"Good to see you too, Old Worm.
How's the research going?"
I say cheekily as I walk in.


I tilt my head.
"Well heck, I seen magic before but I am not an expert nor even a novice Ma'm. If you want something shot or carried or even flown with then I am good at that but magic is not my forte." I smile


"Really? What sparked that? Usually upstarts looking for power don't get enough support to last long."


"We're here to get any knick-knacks you need for your souvenir collection."


"Their leader died. Raiders aren't exactly known for their democratic election processes or succession laws. Works for me, less to worry about Baltimare."

"Please stop producing sounds that don''t contribute to scientific progress."
He glances over for just a second.
"You want a job again? Fine, look at the noticeboard and leave me the fuck alone to my research."

Intelligence check passed.
"Hm, I guess that'll do. There's been traces of vinteum dust found north of here. That stuff doesn't exactly come cheap so I'm curious why somepony just went ahead and dumped a bunch of it there. Maybe a fight happened, maybe it was accidental. Whatever the case may be, I want to know who's responsible for it."


"True. Well, if there's nothing I'm going to see how the others are doing with the scribe."
I wander over to the scribe's place.


"Guess now's the time to prepare for when they start being a problem again, huh?"


"That's all we ask for." I continue cheekily.
Let's take a look at ye olde noticeboard


You may have trouble fitting inside without crowding the place. If your past experiences with the stallion are any indication, he becomes more irate the more people surround him.

"The mayor doesn't want to send ponies to a warzone. Neither do I, for that matter. Even if they're fighting each other, they're still dangerous. I'd rather not get overwhelmed, raped, tortured and killed while venturing into Baltimare."


Check that noticeboard then.


I'll wait outside and check my guns. out.


I close my hooves together.
"Hmmm… vintieum dust? Now I reckon something like that sounds fishy but perhaps I.. or we can handle that." I grin.


"I meant fortifying barriers between here and Baltimare, setting up traps, that sort of thing."


I then ponder for a bit.
"Mind telling me whats Vinteum dust is btw?"


A caravan was recently raided by a group of bandits. This wouldn't be too important to the brotherhood if it weren't for the fact that a small shipment of plasma pistols was being carried by said caravan. The brotherhood would like to get their hooves on those if possible.

There is a Stable located in Baltimare which was abandoned by its inhabitants over a century ago. The Brotherhood would like to salvage some of the tech inside, but the presence of local wildlife and raiders has so far proven too troublesome. A recent divide between the raiders may be a prime opportunity to venture into the city, though it would still likely be quite dangerous.

A ranger was killed during a patrol a few days ago and the Brotherhood would like to retrieve the power armor he was wearing.

"Oh don't you worry about that, I do it all the time."
She smiles wickedly, effortlessly lifting a large crate with her telekinesis.

"Highly magical dust used for a wide arrange of things. Mostly alchemical. You know Poison Joke? Or Killing Joke? They're a pretty common way to get the dust."


Tap the board.
"Power armor seems easy enough."



I look over the notices thoughtfully.
"This dead ranger seems interesting."



Your guns are currently in decent condition. You won't have to worry about them misbehaving for the time being.


"Whatever brought down a ranger could be trouble, but we have numbers on our side."


Excellent. I keep listening in to what they are saying to the scribe.


"I'm curious what could bring down a ranger.
I believe there's more here than what meets the eye. And we only have to bring back the Power Armor." I add.


"Exactly, not that big of a hassle."


"Very well then. If you do not require our help, I'll go see the notice board."
Give her one last backwards glance, watching her magic glow before moving to the notice board. I could swear… If only I were still whole, not… the abomination I've become…
"A dead ranger sounds interesting. Yet I get the feeling there's more to it…"


Turn to Worm.

"We'll take it. Anything you can tell us about this job?"


"That settles it then."


I shrug and look at Green Glow.
"Whats the price if I get this done?"


"Sound the bells, they actually managed to decide on something quickly for once. We roughly know where the armor is after pinging its navigational module. Take this detector and follow the arrow pointing in the right direction. Even a brain dead ape could do that."

"Depends on the scope of it. If you bring me back something good, I'll make sure you're compensated for the effort."


Take the detector.
I'll have to give that to the most tech savvy of the team, who is that?

"Flattering. Make sure to get some fresh air once in while." I say while leaving.


In Sylt's absence, that's you and Sugarstring.
He grumbles something under his breath as you leave, never taking his eyes of the terminal screen.


"Shame that you couldn't then."
Walk out, following Lead.


"Let's find out what the others dug up."

Walk to the other team.


I frown a bit and close my arms as I think about it before I look again at Green Glow.
"Alright, I'll bite. But I charge extra for each bullet hole's that happens to appear on me if this case suddenly goes ugly."



"Besides I reckon there are some fine men or mare here who has shown interest or is it just me?"


"Sounds good to me."


"I'd be more concerned about spells if I were you. When there's vinteum dust, you'll always find a spellcaster involved with it."

Sugarstring is speaking to a unicorn mare moving boxes with her telekinesis. Judging by the green glow of her magic, that's Green Glow.


"Good day, ma'am."
I say to Green Glow.


Light up a smoke as I wait.


She sets down the crate near the hayburger joint and turns to the rest of you.
"Aren't you a polite stallion? Looking for work as well?"

That's not healthy, sugar.


I turn to you too.
"Hey there you two."

I gulp.
"I'll keep that in mind."


"In a manner of speaking, I'm with these fine gentlecolts and mares here."

"Hello Sugar. Found anything useful?"


I think I'll live.


"As a matter of fact I did, Ms. Green Glow is looking for someone to investigate about some magic dust just north of here. If you want you and Switch can tag along."


"Hm. Well, take care then. Try not to get killed out there."

The package has a warning on it and everything.

A sickly looking stallion is lying in a hospital bed on the picture.


"Where is the locator pointing?
If North, that's good."

Aww, poor guy. I wonder if he got better by the time the bombs fell.


"Excellent. We have acquired a little job as well."

"Don't worry ma'am, we'll bring that dust back here."


Take a look where that locator is pointing.


"So, who's on point? We need someone with their eyes open for inbound hostiles."



"That's not the point. I don't need it. What do I look like, some kind of an alchemist?"
She chuckles.
"Just find out who it belonged to and if they're still alive. Could be a threat if they are."


Pat my blade.
"I'll need to be on the front anyway."


"Sorry, I dozed off. What's the job?"



"Ah do tell honey, what is it about?"


"Collect magic dust or get a power armor from a dead ranger."

"Pointing to the Ranger's armor."


"Roger that."
I look over the locator and turn to the others.

"It seems our two jobs are in opposite directions. Perhaps we should seek out the Power Armor first, no way another scavenger would leave it behind if we're too late."

"The Scribe asked us to find a suit of power armor."


"Agreed. Plus, raiders in power armor would be serious trouble."


"Sounds sensible."

"It's not a tea-dress that everyone can wear."


Green Glow facehoofs.
"For the love of Celestia don't collect it…"


I close my arms.
"Hmmm priorities…. one is about booty that has a time ticking in where other rough and rogue scavenger might go and get it while the other has magic dust in where there might be a magic user who might try to get it for his or her own evil scheme."


"I agree. Armor first."


"The magic dust won't be moved for now, that's the important part."

I nod.
"Do we have our supplies for the journey?"


Wave a hoof.
"Then whatever we need to do with it."

"Got my shitty cans of food, dirty water and my pack of smokes. I'm good to go."


I pout for a moment before nodding and turning to Green Glow.
"Looks like we will be hiking south first, I reckon that is fine or does scouting for who caused that magic dust needed prirority?"


"I've got food and water for myself."


She shrugs.
"If it did, I'd investigate myself. I'm mostly just curious because vinteum dust is not easy to obtain."


"Miss Skies, would you carry the locator and lead us on our way?"
I hoof you the locator.

"Let's carry on then. Azure, lead on."


"Off we go."
Make sure my sweet toothed little blade is fine and dandy, then head south.


I nod at Lead and fly off.
Now lets see how good I am at this.
Roll for aptitude?


The group is leaving the town of Hayburg behind and heading south.

You are quite aware that the military base held by the Boomer tribals lies south, bordering the river which ends up in Horseshoe Bay.

The device is very simple, so the Intelligence required to use it is very low. Just to follow the arrow, really.

Everyone should roll a d20 for luck.


Follow the group along.



Roll #1 14 = 14


Alright follow me gang. I grin and fly low as I lead the group


I feel lucky '1d20'

Roll #1 15 = 15



Roll #1 15 = 15


How friendly are the Boomers anyway?

Roll #1 9 = 9



Roll #1 18 = 18


They blow up anyone who gets in range of their artillery and only rarely leave the base. Not even raiders dare venture into their territory.

That said, you're not heading straight in their direction.


Better stay out of range then.


You're right to feel lucky. The Baltimare raiders must be really into killing each other right now.

The sun has passed its highest point and the late afternoon is approaching. The partymembers who can fly can see the Horseshoe river far in the distance. Along its borders, slightly more east than the direction you're going, they can even see the military base claimed by the Boomers. Way east there's the ruined skyline of Baltimare.

The detector is leading you towards a forest. Or well, a collection of burnt trees.


I keep my eyes open for threats in the forest.

Roll #1 10 + 2 = 12


"Here guys!" I lead and follow the detectors blip.


"Yay, trees. Don't you just love the way they turn into shrapnel when you use explosives on them?"


Keep flying towards the 'forest'.
"I sure hope it's Yao-Guai season."


"Keep your eyes open. Places like those are excellent for an ambush."


"Hmmm… oh! Right!"
Keep my eyes open and be careful.

Roll #1 11 + 4 = 15


It's a tragic collection of trees. Once, it must have been filled with life and delicious flowery scents, now it's barren and smelling of burnt wood.

You hear machinegun fire coming from deeper inside the 'forest'.

And a few explosions as well.


"Sounds like the fun's already started."
Start sneaking my way in.

Roll #1 7 = 7


"Oh no, trouble. Keep low honeybuns." I stop flapping my wings and lower my profile as I look at the detector.
Are we near to where the detector is blimping? Where is the sound coming from and is the detector leading us there?


"Sounds a bit loud to be an ambush."
I start to sneak into the forest.

Roll #1 1 + 2 = 3


also sneak etc.

Roll #1 10 + 4 = 14


Grab my weapon and go further in.
"Let's not make any sudden moves. Let's try to appraise the situation first."


"That sounds like good news."
Go deeper.


You're having a hard time hiding, these trees are very thin and small.

You're a buffalo cow, what business do you have sneaking? Your stomping hooves are really loud!

The detector is still pointing south, but the sounds are coming from slightly more to the southeast of the forest.

You advance further towards the sounds. They are growing rapidly louder until they finally slow down and stop.

Eventually you stumble upon a group of three ponies. Three… strange looking ponies. They're all wearing sunglasses and have battlesaddles mounted on their backs. Battlesaddles with some seriously high caliber weaponry. Their clothing reminds you of flight suits, although modified and patched up over the years, complete with a side cap on their heads to go with it. Despite their outfits, none of these ponies are pegasi.

One of the ponies has heard your approach and quickly turns to you, battlesaddle at the ready.
"Savages on our six! Be ready!"

The other two quickly turn too, keeping you in their sights.


"That's a bit hurtful. Do you call everyone savages? Relax, we're not here to fight you, as long as you don't shoot us."


I take cover behind a tree and bring my shotgun up.
"Who're you calling a savage, stranger?"


Step out. Calmly. Keeping my weapon close.
"Ho. Easy there, we're not savages. We're here merely exploring. My name is Lead Velvet and these are my associates."


Grip my blade tight.
"Is that the mouth you kiss your mother with?"


Just raise my rifle and ready to shoot… just in cas.e


They all seem surprised and glance at each other for a moment.
"What's your business here?"

The second stallion trains his saddlemounted grenade launcher on the tree.
"You're savages. You're some kind of… double savage with how big you are."

The mare in the group lowers her comically large sunglasses for a moment to look at you, then sniffs.
"Exploring to do what? Other savages to torture and kill?"

The first stallion coughs.
"Savage zombie thing. Since when do you zombie things talk? I've never done seen a talking zombie."


"Really fucking sensitive, smoothskin. Since when can ponies talk with their asses like you do?"


"I'm from a vault, idiot. Now point that somewhere else before you hurt yourself."


"There was a ranger killed here. His order wants his stuff back, so they hired us to go after it.
I know the raiders don't give the rest of us much of a good name, but could you lay off with the "savages" stuff? It's really insulting."


"None of the sort. Looking for scraps to scavenge and sell. Our weapons are merely for defense, as I imagine yours are.
Forgive my associates apprehensiveness, being cautious is a sign of wisdom in the wasteland.
Might I know your name, miss?"


"I reckon you guys are treasure hunters is that right?"


It's hard to see his expression behind those sunglasses, so you're not sure what the stallion makes of it.

"… You're from a Stable? Really?"
He frowns and looks at the mare.
"How come we don't have no huge ponies?"

"Maybe radiation mutated her. Or maybe that's no pony. Doesn't that look like one of them buffalo things from the books?"
She offers.

"Ranger? You mean that savage in that fine piece of shiny armor? Yeah, he dead. Mutant dog got him. Shame too, he sported some fancy weapons."

The other two mumble and nod in agreement.

"My name is Bluebell."
She unloads her machine gun.
"You want to get that stuff that feller dropped back? That darn mutant dragged it back to its lair. Killed one of us too, which is why we're out in this dead forest shootin' ghosts in the first place. It's been huntin' us, but we've managed to hurt it good. Still no finishing blow though. And we're starting to run low on ammo."

The first stallion blows his breath.
"Damn radiation mutant dogs."


"That's right, I'm a buffalo."


"My condolences for your loss. If you want revenge, perhaps you could join us?"


Roll my eyes.
"Those dogs are always trouble. You know where it's lair is?"


Go around the area and try to use the detector to find the thingy that we are finding.

Roll #1 7 + 4 = 11


"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit. I thought you folks were neutral during the great war."

"I dunno…"
She looks over all of you.

The second stallion interjects.
"Let 'em. It'll spook that darn mutant for sure. They should take the lead though. Most of 'em don't even have guns."

"Naw. Keeps moving underground and popping up elsewhere. I reckon it has a cave or something to live in."

Still somewhere to the south.


"Seems we have a common goal then. Dogs are nothing to mess with lightly."
Let's head on out.
"I assume you're from that base a short ways off? You guys sure love your big guns."


"Hard to be neutral when your in a city and the shit hits the fan."


"We'll smoke him out."
Look at the stallion and whirr my chainblade.
"I don't need a gun with this."


"Excellent. Shall we go?"


"Yes, we must."
I show the detector.
"It indicate that it is still south of here."


"Swords a cleaner and quieter. Plus they require actual skill to use."


Pausing soon. We'll get to the hunt next session when Sylt is here..

The mare fishes out a piece of cloth from her bags and drapes it over her back. It looks like some sort of flag, filled with stars and stripes.
"We're proud descendants of the Hamburgerburgerian military personnel from Fort Louderdale, our own little piece of Hamburgerburg on Equestrian soil."

The stallion straightens his glasses.
"Don't worry, we nuked those darned commies back good."

"That's one small chainsaw. You a lumberjack?"

"Lead the way. And don't walk in the line of fire when shit hits the fan."


"Very well. Let's move out, guys."
As we walk, I ask the mare. "If I may ask, where are you from?"


Lead the way it is!

Roll #1 2 + 4 = 6


"Yeah, I cut down thick-headed assholes with it."


>didn't read Fort Louderdale
"Fort Lauderdale? I didn't know there were still forts of Hamburgerburg."


"I would hope so. What did you say you were hunting? A dog?"


I'm a bit of a relic myself, so it's nice to meet others with history, even if they are ponies.
"Hope you don't intend to shoot us in the back when we've killed this dog. I really hate it when that happens."


"You are one spiteful undead pony, missy."

"Some kind of… mutant dog. Dunno what to call it. Huge claws, likes to dig around, pretty smart too. Don't expect that from a mutant."

She looks offended.
"Not Lauderdale. Louderdale!

Our forefathers were on duty on Equestrian soil during the war."

"Hope you don't do the same."


"You mean like a diamond dog?"


"You seem like you're still on duty."


"…We're taking the lead, how would we shoot you in the back when you're behind us?"


Most of the wasteland knows them as Hellhounds, as they have mutated into something that looks different from diamond dogs.


Oh, I know that?


Most likely, yeah. They're extremely dangerous and feared by most.


"I'm not undead, I'm just allergic to idiots."




"We wear our colors with pride. We're always at war with the outside. Dumb savages trying to invade Hamburgerburgerian soil have been getting blown to bits for centuries."

She sniffs.
"You never know with you outsiders. I've seen you skulking around in the shadows pulling some magic spells to try and trick us."

"What are those?"

He scrutinizes you.
"That's the nastiest rash I've ever seen."


"They're what turned into Hellhounds."


"No wonder with you around."


I laugh.
"What brought you outside those protective walls then? I doubt you were just hunting dog."




"… And Hellhounds are those mutant dogs? Darn fitting name if you ask me."

"I'm no idiot, outsider. Rash or not, I know about your magic trickery."

She pushes her sunglasses closer to her face.
"That's classified information."

"See, we don't do sneaking. Why would we with superior firepower?"




"Fair enough. I will not push the matter.
How do you like the outside world?
The Wasteland is dread but it has a weird kind of charm to it."


"Magic trickery? The hell are you talking about?"


"S'alright. Lots of stuff to shoot at, so I can't complain."
The first stallion mumbles and nods in agreement.

The second stallion with the grenade launcher shakes his head.
"I miss the hayburgers and cheeseburgers from home. The ones we took with us have gone rancid."
The other two are quick to agree with this, nodding their heads and mumbling in agreement.

He gestures with his hooves.
"Gone. Hidden with magic."


"When was the last time you saw a doctor? I think you might have braindamage."


"I've never tasted a hayburger."


"You'd know all about brains, wouldn't you?"
He snorts.
"Brains… get it?"

All three of them gasp simultaneously, almost stumbling over each other in shock.
"You're not even alive if you haven't."
"I ate my first one when I was 2 years old…"
"See this is exactly why you're seen as savages"


"I'd love to try this…hayburger one time, you make it sounds quite exquisite."


"Awful. Simply awful."
Light a smoke.


"Where are you from, outsider? Are your people as civilized as you are?"

He lets out a rumbling chuckle.


"You amuse yourself like this often?"


"No, I usually just shoot guns to relax and wind down."


"Can you hit the broad side of a skyscraper yet?"


"My pa always told me that the key to good shooting is to shoot more bullets."


"Did he shit those bullets that they were so abundant?"


"Naw. We just got lots of ammo."


"From where?"


"That's classified."

The mare lowers her sunglasses to look at the two of you.
"You two turtledoves almost done?"


"Vanhoover. My family were honest caravan traders. The first thing you learn as a trader is to be civil. The second thing, is to keep a weapon close by."


Raise a brow back at her.
"He's your coltfriend or something?"


"Shame most of you outsiders can't be trusted. We could trade you our burgers. In return you could send some more of those dumb savages to blow up or something."

"Him? Coltfriend? No. I don't have time for that stuff just yet, outsider."

The stallion grins.
"C'mon Bluebell. You know I'd treat you well."


"Back home, we could have set up a lucrative trade deal. A small caravan meets outside the gates, goods from far off lands and hayburgers are traded and everypony would be happy."


"Our governor probably won't agree to that. Too much risk of trickery."


"Too bad."
Going to stop for now


"I'd tell you to get a room, but that's getting increasingly harder nowadays with everything blown to shit."


Thanks for playing.



The group has ventured further into the dead forest, roughly following the direction the detector is pointing them at. They've now entered a clearing where the dead trees around them have been blown away to pieces. A faint smell of gunpowder is in the air.

"One of the places where it popped up. We were pretty liberal in terms of ammo conservation, but it payed off."
The stallion with the grenade launcher points at a blood trail which leads to a pile of dirt.
"We nailed that son of a bitch good that time. Happened a few hours ago. Since then we've only been hitting dead trees. He never got close enough again."

The mare idly kicks at the pile of dirt and shakes her head.
"Guess its been waiting for a better opportunity to strike. We've been trying to find its lair to smoke it out of there, but no luck so far."


I overlook the scene.
"Sugarstrings, do you see anything?"


"Well, now that we've got a tracker, finding it should be easier."
Look around for a hole or something it would come out of.


Don't say a word, just light up a smoke and inhale a big puff with my blade ready.


You notice there are more dirt piles around this area. You've seen a few of them scattered around the forest before, but these are more concentrated. You know Hellhounds are expert diggers, they are capable of digging very quickly and use this to ambush their prey. This, coupled with the fact that they are deadly at close range, is the main reason why they are so very dangerous.


"Well lets see."
I flew a bit in the air and do a scouting run, also using the GPS for guidance

Roll #1 4 + 4 = 8


"Lot of hellhound activity in this area…"
Put my ear to the ground and listen for any activity. '1d20'

Roll #1 6 = 6


I gulp at hearing that.
"G.. gosh, H… hellhounds?"


"I'd be careful with doing that."


You fly up and accidentally drop the detector, only barely catching it before it hits the ground. Close one.

Dead silent. But that means nothing.


Gaah… stupid one.
With that I flew back to the team and stay close, rifle at the ready.
Now lets check the detector, where is it pointing at? Are we close?

"Well almost dropped this thing hehe.." I just held the detector to me, clearly nervous


"Keep it together.
Are we close?"


It doesn't display proximity, only direction. That said, it's still pointing south.


"Oh.. oh yes."
I wipe my brow and try to breath easy.
"I hope so, I mean this detector is a bit not clear, not cutting the chase you know what I mean darling." I grin

"South." I go forward south and motion the others to follow


"Very well. South it is."


"Yeah, that's what dragged off the ranger, remember?"
"No sign of it yet… Stay sharp, everybu-er, everypony."


Nod and keep smoking.
This might be the last one I have.


I shiver a bit.
"Poor lads, talk about rolling your dice bad at the wrong place and at the wrong time"


You head through the clearing, pushing further south. The Hamburgerburgers take up the rear of the group again with their heavy weaponry. Ultimately, this proves to be a grievous error on their part.

Not even ten seconds after leaving the clearing, without warning, they open fire from behind you. You almost think it's on you, until you turn around to see the stallion with the grenade launcher fall over with a massive neck wound spraying blood everywhere, the only evidence of what caused this is a pile of dirt underneath him. To make matters worse, it seems the other two panicked and turned to open fire at the attacker, only to accidentally shoot each other. The second stallion stumbles and falls on his side while the mare clutches her side and falls onto her back.

Heavy machine guns are great. Just not so much at close range after letting your guard down.


Those fucks.
At least kill while they're facing you.
Grab my weapon.


Look at them with sigh.
Stay alert.
"This is off to a great start."


"Gaaah!" I fly a bit and see where the enemy is at!
"Someone help them."

Roll #1 18 + 4 = 22


They're both groaning in pain. At least that means they're not dead yet, right? You're fairly sure the stallion who was attacked is dead though.

You're fairly confident he's somewhere right below you underground.

If you had a grenade, you could pop it inside the hole he's made and flush him out. Since you don't, you're fairly confident that since you can't see him and he can't see you while he's underground, he's using the sound you make to navigate around.


"Guys! Underneath us! Someone flush him out!" I shouted and ready my rifle in case its ugly head rears up!


Hold perfectly still, getting my revolver ready as I wait for it to show itself.



Look at the groaning ponies and put a hoof in front of my mouth as a sign for them to shut up.

Fly up above the ground and point by blade downwards.
Then start whistling.


"Underneath? B-"
Shut myself up.
Throw a rock as far away from me as I can.

Roll #1 11 + 3 = 14


I'm quiet as fuck, looking around slowly.


I ready my shotgun.
How long does Steady last?


Wise moves.

It's deathly quiet in the forest save from the sound of whistling, the falling of a rock and the heavy breathing of the wounded Hamburgerburgerians. You hope the hellhound doesn't consider them a killing priority in their wounded state.

You suspect it doesn't. Hellhounds are known to be surprisingly intelligent. But even so, they still make mistakes. The dirt below Azure suddenly shifts upward and a paw with big claws shoots out, swinging at the blade but only managing to cut itself.

An angry roar is heard, followed by the ground splitting open and the appearance of one nasty looking hellhound. Nasty, but wounded. The Hamburgerburgers weren't lying when they said they managed to hit it. Its face is horribly burned and it appears the creature is actually completely blind!




"There you are, beast."
Slam him with my spiked knuckles '1d20+2'

Roll #1 1 + 2 = 3


Turn and plug the dog with a revolver round. '1d20+1'

Roll #1 18 + 1 = 19


Spit on it's face and swing my chainblade at him!

Roll #1 8 = 8


Light on my hooves, spin around and jab the hellhound's sides with my spiked knuckles.

Roll #1 18, 3 + 3 = 24


I blast him with my shotgun!

Roll #1 8 + 2 = 10


Gah! Step back and away from whatever it is and shoot it with my rifle!

Roll #1 9 + 4 = 13


You have been spotted.

You attempt to land a hit on the creature, but it somehow deftly dodges your blow. Lucky for you it does not have the opportunity to strike back. That could have been very painful.

Spiked knuckles are Dual, by the way.

You are hidden.

You open up with a beautifully placed shot on the creature's side. These hellhounds can grow to be extremely resilient, but you sense it really felt that one hit home.

You have been spotted.

Your swing fails to connect to the creature, but like Velvet you are lucky to not receive a counter to your attack. Those claws look nasty, doesn't matter if you're a ghoul or not.

You are spotted.

You manage to get a nice hit in right after Switch shoots it, but the second hit doesn't go down as well. It swats you away like a fly with incredible strength.

You are helpless/6.

You have been spotted.

You fire off a shot with your saddlemounted shotgun but miss the target. Too much movement. Too scared to hit someone on your side. Luckily for you, it doesn't use the opportunity to strike back.

You are hidden.

You put a round into the leg of the hulking creature. While it probably did hurt him, you get the feeling he's really pissed off now.


Remember my upgrade makes it Min 8.
I try to shoot the monster again.

Roll #1 15 + 2 = 17


Damn, this won't happen again.
Look on the ground and pick up one of those revolvers of the dead guy.
Do I have to roll for that?


Good, good…. keep calm, stay motionless, remember to breathe. Take aim at it's arm; if I can disable it's claws, I'll be able to get in close.

Roll #1 5 + 1 = 6


Still mid-air, make an uppercut motion at him for a wide swing. That should shred him up a bit.
If I go down, at least it'll be a hellhound, and not going feral, too.

Roll #1 7 = 7


My apologies. You are still hidden and managed to actually connect an autocritted 10 last round.


Stay on my spot as I ready myself, I then peek up and aim for its legs as I try to keep the monster away from Wench Mark…. and shoot!

Roll #1 18 + 4 = 22


Did you account for Scrapper with it?
Also, I started as hidden so at least one hit should be a crit.

Getup and lose myself!

Roll #1 7 + 3 = 10


Are you sure you don't want to roll to hide?

But yes, you'd need to roll a Mov roll for that.


Hiding is for cowards!
Mov '1d20'

Roll #1 6 = 6


And I should roll to stay hidden? '1d20'

Roll #1 11 = 11


You are hidden.

After barely getting in that shot last time, you right your aim and manage to get a better attack in. Though shotguns are usually even more effective when you're indoors.

You have been spotted!

Your shot goes wide, but the hound has no time to counter your attack.

I made a mistake, your last action was indeed a hit. This one isn't. You were hidden this turn, so no counter attack.
You have been spotted.

He's trashing around too much to get a hit in. Lucky for you, you manage to avoid any actual counters.

You are hidden.

You continue your show of marksmareship and hit the hound right in the area around the gonads. It howls in pain. It must be furious, unable to find you in its blinded state.

Not use Fight or Flight? That would get you up with that roll.

You are spotted.

You're hit by a stray kick of the dog as you try and escape.

Those rolls aren't instant. They're also counted as Aptitude rolls.


This thing isn't too tough.
I keep shooting at it.

Roll #1 3 + 2 = 5


Cowardly dog.
But I need a gun '1d20'

Roll #1 20 = 20


Sure, use that.
Then I'll spend this turn hiding.

Roll #1 6 + 1 = 7


Shoot at it again!

Roll #1 14 + 4 = 18


I forgot your health.


You are up this turn then.


Goddammit, that first response is for >>596321


I see. Guess there's nothing for it. Draw my sword and attempt to cut into it's arm to disable it.

Roll #1 17 + 5 = 22


But I still have to roll for my gun?


Not going to shy away just yet.
Cut the fucker!

Roll #1 5 = 5


I'll just hide for now then '1d20'

Roll #1 10 = 10


Rerolling the d10.
'1d20+1' to hide.

Roll #1 6 + 1 = 7


You've been spotted.

You wish you hadn't thought that, you think to yourself as the hound delivers a blow that staggers even you. Ouch.


The dead stallion relied mostly on his grenade launcher in combat, but it seems he had a sidearm as well. A really big Revolver (Ranged Min 9).

Switch buries his sword into the creature's paw, causing it to flinch and stagger in pain.

A prime opportunity for Sugarstring to put the bullseye on the cake and take a clean shot at its burned head. Popping it clean open and sending brains flying in the air. A gruesome death for a gruesome creature.

The beast is dead. Overwhelmed, wounded and outnumbered it was only a matter of (little) time.


Look over the dead animal.
Any power armor?


"Everyone okay?"


Thing's dead. Good. Now time to check on the injured ponies. Good opportunity to get some gratitude.
"Hold still. You're hurt bad. I'll see what I can do."


"I'm as fine as I'll be."
Chop off the claw of the puppy with my blade.
Should go for a nice price


I stand up with my rifle held high!
"Boooooyaaah! Did you gals seen it! Heads and brains scattered everywhere!! Son of a bitch needed to die for killing one of us!"

Now glace at my locator, any signs of the item we are finding!"


I try to hide.

Roll #1 12 + 2 = 14


No power armor.

Would be strange if this creature wore armor designed for ponies!

If you want to check on their wounds, you should roll for it. Either Medicine (Int) or Appraisal (Apt).

Hellhound paws do indeed have some value. Some people even make weapons out of them! Crazy!

Still pointing south, nothing has changed.

Except for the dead Hellhound.

You're hidden.

The hellhound is dead though.


Could see the appeal of those weapons.
Take both claws, I'm sure I can carry them


"Son of a bitch just had shit luck."
Smirk a bit and dust myself off.
"So, do we move?"


I look at them.
"Detector still points south…"
Then I look at the wounded and kneel beside them.
"But we cant just leave them here darlin."


Let's Appraise their injuries. I'm no doctor, but I know what you can walk off and what'll kill you.

Roll #1 7 + 1 = 8


"Someone who has meds need to help them get their shit together."


Look at the wounded ponies.
"I have half a mind to leave you here.
Disgraceful, attacking somepony in the back."

"It probably brought the power armor to its lair."


"What do we do about them?"
I motion to the injured ponies.


They both weigh 2. For a total of 4.

Inventory updated.

They're both looking slightly pale and dazed, bleeding slightly. They'll need a pick-me-up to get moving again. A stimpak or some kind of chem like Med-X or Buck would do the trick, you reckon.


"Help them if they pay for your stims or meds. I've got none of those."



"Well I am not good at this so…" I began to look at the mare's wound and see what I can do.
"Hey hang in there alright."

"Gosh darnit… I frown at velvet.
"Is it really worth it? I mean… I am not afraid at those monsters…. but the risk…"

Roll #1 16 + 2 = 18


"We're not monsters, I suppose we could help them, when they're disarmed."


Well, nothing for it. I need to eat, after all…
Pull out my stimpack and jab it in the stallion.
"Easy now, you'll be fine. Just let the chems do their job."


Oh, should I roll for this, or are chems automatic?

Roll #1 9 = 9


"Help them, yes, but I'm not going to carry them on my back."


"Do we really have to waste meds on them?"


"They'll have to walk back."


"We are not animals mister Mark. It would be incivil to simply take all their guns and leave them here."


"I'm sure they can make it up to us."


"I have some irradiated dirty water for them, but I doubt that'd do much good."


"It'd be good for our survival… I'm not gonna use any chems. Those are for you guys."

Let's get healing.

Roll #1 16 + 5 = 21


"I'm not asking for the luxury treatment. Some lapping up and a spitshine will do."


"Well I am not good at carrying, besides I need to scout ahead." I just smile dismissively.
"Now…. I think… the power armor is still south of here. I just hope we dont meet more of those monsters." I gulp.


They're automatic. You jab it into his leg and deploy the stimulants. It only takes a few seconds to take effect. He gets back onto his hooves, rubbing his head.

"Ugh… I'm feeling woozy. Like someone shot me in the head or something…."

That stimpak seemed to have helped the stallion. The mare is still out. You don't have the knowledge to help them without use of chems.

Int check failed.

Thanks to your superior medical knowledge, your attempt at battlefield triage on the mare is successful.

She scurries back onto her hooves.
"What? What!?"


How many of them are left?
"You picked a bad day to run low on coffee, sugar."


"Of course it's worth it.
You're not having second thoughts are you?"


"Looks like you and your friends hit each other when the dog showed up between the two of you. Don't worry, we took care of the dog. Now relax, you're still in pretty rough condition."


"We just saved the two of you from the hellhoud is what."


"Bad news, you got one down."


The other guy is up. The third is well and truly dead. The hellhound ripped open his throat. Very unpleasant.

The mare focuses her eyes on you, then on her dead comrade.
"… Darn. You gosh darn idiot… This isn't how it was supposed to end, consarn it!"

He glances at the dead stallion and falls onto his haunches.
"… Damn. Got us when we least expected it. Son of a bitch."


I look at the dead pony.
"Well that makes me have second thoughts,"
I then groan.
"Say hun, no heroics once we are there. Once we got the armor we get straight out."

I then look at switch and Wench.
"Say, how they holdin? Standin up or not? I mean if they cant run then it is better they stay behind. Dont want them getting in trouble… or in our way you know what imsayin,"


"What are you two going to do now?"


Put a hoof on her shoulder.
"Can y'hold a rifle?
Because we are going the way of revenge."
"She's gonna be fine."


"That is the plan miss Sugarstring."


"You sort of shot each other too."


"I'm sorry. For the record, I know what losing someone is like."
"Why? The dog's dead. Unless raiders show up, we can head to it's lair and grab the stuff, then go."


"Then what are we waiting for." I ready my gun,
"Well besides from burying the dead guy… well shucks, colt doesnt deserve to lay rottin in the sun, unless you guys think we dont got time for that."


Snort slightly, but say nothing.


"Be on your guard, mister Hitter. We don't know if he had any friends."


The mare looks at the stallion questioningly, who sighs and avoids her gaze.

"We should return our fallen brothers home for a burial at least. Not going to bury Hamburgerburgerians on Equestrian soil."

These ponies are Boomers. Part of the isolationist tribe that occupies the military base further east of here. Like in the games, they have access to high grade military equipment and carry a LOT of firepower. Both of them have a light machine gun mounted onto their battlesaddles. The dead stallion had a grenade launcher mounted on his.
She looks at you like you just told her you killed her parents and raped their corpses.
"I'm sorry? Have you seen this thing on my back? Do you know much many rounds per minute it can push out and what it takes to control it?"

The stallion spits on the ground.
"Friendly fire. Goddamn."


"That's hellhounds for you. They get you one way or the other."


And I'm an awkward mechanic, perfect!

Awkwardly pat her shoulder.
"Let's get going then, uh?"


I look at the Hamburgerburgerian mare.
"Well I respect that, dont worry."


Searching for the Lair? '1d20'

Roll #1 11 = 11


"Alright. YOu'd best get going, then."


Lets ready the detector and follow it
"Yes, lets get going."
I then pat the two Hamburgerburgerian.
"Be careful out there honey and stay safe."

Roll #1 15 + 4 = 19


Not without the detector, I hope.

"We're missing one corpse. It must be in its lair. We'll come to collect it."

Go south on your own?


Nope, sticking with Sugarstring.
"Either of you need help walking?"


Lets scout ahead along with switch with the rest following


Follow along.


Keep going south


"We'll be fine."
The stallion takes off the battlesaddle from his fallen friend while the mare covers the body with the flag she had draped over her back.

They'll still be following you for now.

Roll. Aptitude.



Roll #1 8 + 4 = 12


"Alright then."

I follow her.


Good girl.

You walk further south for a few more minutes until you notice the arrow suddenly changing position, now pointing north again. Realizing this means its lair must be right below you, you start looking around and soon find an entrance into a cave under a particularly large tree. It's not a big entrance and it won't be very comfortable for Petunia to fit through, but it's doable. You reckon that's an entrance to the hellhound's home.


"Uhhmmm guys." I gulp as I point at the small entrqance under the large tree.


I frown at the size of the cave.
"Some of you better go first."


"Excellent work, miss Sugarstring."


"Imagine the metals hidden in there!"


"Well I can go inside." I smile while a shivering a bit.
"I mean.. well what can possibly go wrong right?" Lets use the detector and go peek inside.

Roll #1 16 + 4 = 20


"I'll just wait out here."


"Right behind you."
Down the hole I go.

Roll #1 3 + 1 = 4


You head into the Hellhound's home. It's rather dark in here, the only source of light being the sun from outside and some glowing mushrooms growing alongside the walls. The passageway leads deeper into the ground. The detector is pointing you at it.


I'll wait with Azure, my aptitude is not so great.


I follow them in.


I light up a smoke and offer you one as well.


"Here huns." I pointed the direction.
Lets follow the detector and ready myself.

Roll #1 1 + 4 = 5


You trip over a rock and get startled so much you try to fly up and away, only managing to bang your head on the ceiling and dropping the detector onto the rocky ground.

… You think you might have broken it. Ol' Worm won't be happy about that.


Walk in.


"Oh!! Nononononono!!"
Shake it a bit!
"No!! damnit you stupid mule." I bite my lips.


"Great. Don't suppose anybody's got a light ready?"
Manuevering in the dark. '1d20+1'
"Don't be racist."

Roll #1 4 + 1 = 5


I glanced a bit embarrased.
"My bad, damnit." I look at the detector.
"Looks like I broke it. Whoever owns this wont be happy at all." I frown.

Do I remember where the detector is last pointing? Maybe I can recollect myself.

Roll #1 9 + 4 = 13


Are the burgers out here?
Or did they go down too?


Those glowing mushrooms actually help a lot.

The passageway twists around and finally opens up into a bigger cave. You see a headless Steel Ranger lying in the middle of it. Further up against the wall you see a dead earth pony stallion wearing the same outfit as your two companions. Aside from this, this cave is very barren. You assume this wasn't the hound's permanent home at all.

Bluebell and her friend both frown.
"There he is. Finally. Damn hound dragged him across the world."

They went inside.


"Well…. there's are prize." I approach the armor and see if its still in fine condition.


"Hey, be careful around here… There might be someone readying an ambush!"


Ah well. I'm not going down there.


I look around for scraps I can take from the hellhound's other victims.

Roll #1 8 + 2 = 10


Walk to the Steel Ranger and look at the earth pony too.
"Sad end for them."


It was very much damaged around the neck area, given how the hellhound actually managed to behead this ranger. You notice the head piece lying on the ground next to it. It's empty.

The corpse inside the other armor smells a little.

Like I said, aside from these two, this cave is barren. Seems like it's only some kind of temporary shelter.

Bluebell blows her breath.
"Death ain't ever easy, but least we got the bodies. All we can do is box them up and bring them back home."


"My condolences." I say as I start gathering the armor.


"Well… lets hurry up and gather the bodies and armor. We cant stay here for long you know." I gulp.


Scavenge in the cave for anything else of use.

Roll #1 1 = 1


The stallion picks up the body and puts it on his back as well.
"Thanks outsider. You're alright in my books."

The mare nods in agreement.

Power armor is quite heavy. Carry it out?

For the third time, there is nothing aside from rock and radioactive glowing mushrooms! This is just a natural cave the hound was using as a form of temporary shelter, you reckon.



Uhmmm….. if no one would carry it I suppose I can..


"Glad we could help each other."
I'll help carry out the power armor.


"I've got it."
I take the power armor.


"It seems it is time to return then.
Good job, ponies.
First round of Nuka-Cola is on me."


"Found it? Good. And we didn't even get mutiliated."


Your inventory hasn't been fixed, but given how little you have on you it should be doable.

It's a bit smelly though.

They follow you back outside.
"Well, I reckon this is goodbye for now then. We'll be returning these to our own soil for burial. After that… we'll just have to be careful of these darn hounds not catching us like this again. Maybe drop a some heavier shells on 'em."

"Thank ya kindly for your aid. If you're in the area again, be sure not to stop by our base 'cause you'll get blown up by the guards. Maybe we'll run into each other sometime again out here in the wastes though."


"Thanks hun, I appreaciate it." I smile as I stretch my wings.

I look at the Hamburg mare.
"You and your pal going back to town with us?"


Nod to the burgers.
"Try to shoot each other less and the things that try to kill you more."


I nod.
"Be careful out there… and yes I'll keep that in mind about the blowing up thing…. talk about not wanting strangers huh?"

"How about beer?" I smile.


Approach her, eyeing the armour lustfully.


"Thanks. Keep safe out there."
Well, that wasn't much, but it's enough to keep me going for a while.


"It was a pleasure.
Everypony ready to depart?"


"Not a problem. This hardly weighs a thing."

"Back off."


She shrugs.
"We could swing by if you give us the coords of that town, I guess. We'll be delivering these bodies back home first though."

"I promise you, we're usually really good at shooting and blowing things up."


"I am."




"What? Can't I check a beauty out?"


Sure, why not. Give them the coordinates.


I nod.
"Well, if you got a map I can show it to you two, if not let me draw somethin."


"After we drop it with the scribe, if he lets you."


"Accidents happen."

It's quite a piece of work. t-51 power armor, top of the class even among steel rangers. Whoever this guy was, he sure as hell wasn't a low ranking grunt.

You've given the coordinates of Hayburg to the Hamburgerburgerians.


"At least you didn't kill yourseslves."


"You act like we haven't been together through the wastes time and time again."
T-the model which has minimal agility drawbacks?
Maybe I can just sneak a look at the servos in the back of the hoof joint for a moment and see how they look…

Roll #1 13 + 5 = 18


"All right, let's get this back and get paid."


The mare frowns.
"I hate close quarters. Too messy. At least from a distance I know I can rain down waves of bullets reliably."

That's the t-51b.

You know for a fact that these things were built and used by specially trained soldiers that became the Steel Rangers. Power Armor was a joint project between the Ministry of Technology and the Ministry of Arcane Science. The Armor was built with self medicating features, powerful heavy weapons and self repairing talismans.

There is a lot to it and you could probably learn from it if you had a workbench and some time.


Turn to everyone in the group.

What if we took it a bit slower, going back?"


"Get one of these pretties."
Pat my blade.
"Not even armor can stop it."


How long have we all been together?
"Exactly, and the scribe is an anal retentive jerk even when we do things right."


"I'm not rushing anywhere."


There's also the issue of the corpse being present inside the armor.

She looks at it in disgust.
"I ain't touching no weapon that ain't a gun."


"Your loss. Those seem to have worked out for you so well."


"we should bury him."


At least another mission!
"I promise he won't even notice~"
Grin at her.
"I knew you'd understand me!"
That's such a tiny detail.
Do I know of places where I could find a workbench, or the needed tools…
And not catch unwanted attention with the power armor?

Roll #1 19 + 5 = 24


"Do I ever not?"


"And don't worry, I get you."
Wink wink nudge nudge.


"You do, don't you."


"Check the area around Fort Louderdale if you want to see more examples."

You know there's a pre-war farm with a barn about an hour away from Hayburg which has a workbench inside.


I sigh.
"Fine, but I'm taking any money lost out of your ass."


"Well, then let's take a little detour, just a few hours walk…
It's gonna be so. So. Worth it!"
Snicker and shake that butt.
"Come and get it big fuzzball."


"Can we visit some radioactive pits while we're at it? I know you don't like them quite as much, but a lady deserves some rest every now and then."

"I'll keep that in mind next time I go that way."


"Know any of those near Hayburg?"


"Is that the one with the spa?"


"Better not to, everypony gets blown up. Guards don't take chances if it's not a Hamburgerburgerian."

The stallion nudges her side.
"We ought to get moving. Don't want to be here when it's dark out. C'mon."


"I wouldn't know, their abandoned factories always got me."


I roll my eyes.
"You wastelanders probably have all manner of mutant diseases."

"I agree."
I head for the exit.


"I'm pure as the water bottle you'd gift a begger, Petty!"


I'm already out of the hole.


Aren't we all marching together?


"Alright, enough chatter, let's go or we'll have to spend the night here."


"Hey, I'm all for going! The faster we are, the more I can study this thing before the Brotherhood gets suspicious!"


Walk out.
"Make sure to not leave any hoofprints where they shouldn't."


The two Burgers bid their goodbyes and head off to go collect their other fallen friend to return to Fort Louderdale.

Time to travel back up North as well?


"Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye I won't!"
Do the motions, too!


Let's get moving already.


Then everyone roll for luck once again.


"You're a sucker for those aren't you."

Back north


Off we go.

I roll my eyes harder.


Roll #1 7 = 7



Roll #1 5 = 5




Roll #1 10 = 10



Roll #1 4 = 4


You diverge from the straight path you took to get here and come across a church building from before the war. Part of the roof has collapsed, but aside from that it's in a decent state. Sigils of both the Sun and Moon are present on the facade of the building.

This is a temple dedicated to the alicorn sisters. Princesses of Equestria who were revered by their subjects in their time. Nowadays, they are presumed dead by most. Only a few ponies still practice worship of the sisters in the wasteland.


"Peculiar. A good place to rest it seems."
Take a look at the statues.


In the stables, however…

"Hold up, I want to check this out."
I move stealthily into the temple.

Roll #1 18 + 2 = 20


Kno check about the other "Alicorns".
Have I ever met/seen them?
Do I know anything?

Roll #1 20 + 5 = 25


Let out a long sigh.
"Anyone want to get a fire going?"


"The undead who burns down a church, how old-timey.
Shouldn't your hooves burn or something on hallowed ground?"


Grrr… This place still makes my blood boil. Ponies had the whole world in their hooves… now look what they've done to it.
"How long are we going to be here?"


"It should. I guess the princesses do a shit job with still being holy, huh."


"Hey, don't look at me. I was aiming for the factory!"
"Like they ever existed."


They're quite clearly old and the years haven't been kind to most of them, but some of the statues are still in decent shape. The craftsponyship is very impressive. Before the apocalypse, this church must have looked beautiful.

Stealthy stealthy cow. The nave of the church has many rows of benches set up. This is where the ponies would sit and pray or listen to the priest talking and preaching about the sisters. A few rows of the benches are covered in rubble from the broken roof. Some pillars have been knocked down as well. You assume the valuable stuff that was once in here, like gold chalices and paintings, were looted long ago. It's a bit saddening.

Up front, in the chancel near an altar, you see a pony kneeling down, praying.

Specify. You mean Alicorn mutants?


Give you a flat look.


Yes. I meant those.


Roll my eyes.
"Right. You saw them and all that."


Investigate the church.


"You don't believe me?"


"I believe what I can see, you know that!"


I stop to consider for a few seconds, then holster my shotgun and quietly walk to the altar.


You've seen them from a distance, but haven't engaged in combat with one. They are very dangerous and from what you've learned over the years, they possess spells like long range teleportation, magical bubble shields and even spells that attack the nervous system of the target, causing death if not broken.

You also heard stories about them being linked together telepathically, meaning they can communicate over long distances using only their minds.

You see the same as Petunia.


Rollign stealth. '1d20+1'

Roll #1 16 + 1 = 17


Shudder a bit.
"Can we leave here now?"


All right, sneak up on the pony.
"I don't suppose you're expecting an answer anytime soon."


"Why don't you believe what I saw?"


"Because the only alicorns I saw were demons, madmares!"


"Those things are way different."


Kick some dust around looking at the ground, kinda bummed.
"So you keep saying…"


The praying mare perks her ears, but keeps her eyes closed and continues mumbling her prayer. This goes on for another half a minute until she stops. You notice there's a sniper rifle lying next to her on the ground.

She glances at you over her shoulder, but doesn't get up.
"Good day, is there something I can help you with?"


"Not unless you're a priestess."
I kneel down at the altar and start praying.


"Why the fuck would these things-"
Tap the wall of the church.
"exist, if the Princesses weren't good?"


"It's not often I see a pony praying here these days."
Glance up at the depiction of the sisters.
"They aren't listening, you know. Even when they were alive, they never listened to us, be it through prayer or screaming at them. You want my advice, pray to something that actually might help you."


"You pre-war ponies were all pretty crazy."
Snicker in my own hoof.
"Let's see what the others are up to, okay?"


"Allright. I could use some shuteye anyway."


"I do not preach about the Sisters. The wasteland has few who do. Too few. I am only another simple wastelander, much like yourself no doubt."

She closes her eyes and shakes her head.
"They do listen. They listen all the time."


I finish my prayer.
"I'm not a wastelander. How did you come to worship the Sisters?"


Glance away.
"Well, for me and mine, they chose to do nothing.
May I ask your name?"


"They found me, actually…"
She picks up the sniper rifle and swings it on her back.
"Now they guide me. I suppose I'm a warrior of faith. A modern paladin. Unlike the owners of the armor you carry with you, who are only paladins because they chose to call themselves that."

"Inner Light. How about yours?"


"That sounds like a sotry I would love to hear. My name is Petunia."


"I go by Switch Hitter. It is always nice to meet ponies who don't simply shoot on sight."


"So, what exactly are you up to at present? Or were you praying for guidance?"



Thank you for playing. But I'm getting sleepy and most of the players have left.

Next session somewhere this week. Most likely not tomorrow though. I'll let you guys know.


"Nice to meet you, Petunia."

"You don't look like raiders or mutants. Mercenaries… perhaps. Or prospectors."

"I came upon this church and felt I should pay my respects to the Goddesses. I was on my way to the raider den in Baltimare."


Hayburg is about two hours northeast from here.


Weren't we chatting it up with miss crusader?


If you want to split up and head on already, I'm not going to stop you.


It's not like I'm in a rush


"Not many still worship the princesses."


It'd be silly to be alone in the wastes.


"Mercenaries is probably a close enough explanation. Doing jobs for others in order to get by day to day. Then again, we're not exactly official or anything.
It's dangerous to travel the wastes alone. Don't you have any companions or something? Maybe a pet Vorcha or something?"


"An acute observation. You're right, many have given up on the sisters. There are those who even think they never existed in the first place. It's a shame, but that's their choice, not mine."

Lone wanderers do exist.

That said, with the raiders occupied with their internal struggles, you suspect this area is actually fairly safe to travel right now.

"A pet what?"
She shakes her head.
"No, I'm alone these days. Simply keeping a low profile and taking out any threats from afar has worked well for me so far."


"They haven't been seen for years, if they ever really existed. Can you blame ponies?"


"Oh right, those aren't around anymore…"
Sigh and shake my head.
"Look… right now the raiders are in the middle of a civil war, so this area's fairly quiet, but once they get that sorted… well, keeping a low profile won't work for long once they do. Why don't you come with us?"
Recruitment roll '1d20'

Roll #1 4 = 4


"Hiding in radioactive pits works well too."


"I can't. Though it's hard to actually deny their existence."

"Baltimare is a known pit of suffering. The raiders who call it their home may be fighting among themselves right now, but it will not take long for them to cause trouble again, so somepony must at least try to keep them in check. I'm sorry."

She looks you over.
"For as long as the radiation does not affect your sanity. But I don't think I need to tell you what ghoulification can do."


"All right. Just… be careful out there, okay? Good ponies are hard to find these days."


"I can't."


Shake my head.
"Had it happen to somepony I knew.
I wanted to pretend she's allright for a while… but it didn't work."
"I'll probably fall on my blade the moment I feel my sanity slipping away."


"Try to send a prayer their way some time. I find its effects to be… revitalizing."

She gets up from her praying position and swings her rifle across her back, taking one last glance at the dead Steel Ranger.
"If you ever find your way into the company of one Brotherhood scout named Stormfeather, give him my regards."

"That's saddening to hear. Please do take care. Too many ponies suffer that terrible fate."


"Stormfeather. Right. Take care out there."
Heading out?


Shrug again and take out a cigarette.
"I lived much longer that I was supposed to anyway."
Light it up.


She gives you a look you can't quite place and heads off.

She nods and heads outside.

Don't ask me!


"I'm afraid me and religion don't go hoof in hoof."


Oh well.

Puff of my cigarette.
"How about we go hoof in hoof to Hayburg then?"


"Agreed. We need to get moving."




Take the power armor to Hayburg?



If you say so.

No need to roll, the settlement is rather close. By the time you arrive there, it's dark out already. There are flood lights mounted on the guard towers scanning the area. The guards recognize you and let you into the town without trouble. It's 10 PM and ponies will soon start to go to their beds. Many are still inside the hayburger joint, sharing laughs and drinks.

If you know Ol' Worm, he'll probably still be awake and working away on his terminal.


Time to pay him a visit.
Knock and enter without waiting again.



As expected, he's still at work. He doesn't look up when you enter.

"You're back quickly. Did you retrieve the power armor?"


"We did."


"The helmet wasn't attached, but yes."


"We still got it, though. But it wasn't in one piece."


"Yep. Met a couple Boomers out there too."


He doesn't answer straight away, focusing on whatever he's working on in silence. Finally, he stops typing and gets up.
"Good, where is it? How did it get cracked open?"

He snorts.
"Those Boomer savages don't leave their base and blow anything up that comes their way like a bunch of paranoid fucks. What the hell are you talking about?"




"Some Hellhound tore it apart. Monstrous beast."


"Apparently they'd been having hellhound trouble and were looking to retrieve the body of one of their own. Worked with us to take the dog down, though they did end up hitting each other when it popped up between them."
Snort with a grim sort of amusement.
"They referred to everyone not part of their little club "Savages" too. Guess ponies are always the same…"


He grimaces.
"Mutants. Those animals just can't keep their bloodlust in check. Very well, put him and the detector on the table there. Maybe some investigating will reveal more."

"That so? Why did they leave their territory?"


"Like what, the cause of death?
It's a mystery."


"I'm afraid the detector isn't working anymore.
An unfortunate accident."
Put the detector on the table


"Same reason we went after the dog; retrieving their dead so they could bury them on "Hamburgerburgian soil" or something."


"No need to play smartass with me. If you could use that rotten brain of yours for a split second, you'd understand that this power armor doesn't just get cut open that easily. There's a weak spot that needs improving, clearly."

He gives you a baleful look.
"More work for me. Thanks. Next time, try not to drop everything like a fucking foal."

"And they didn't shoot you? "


"I think the fact that we responded to them pointing weapons at us by just talking to them helped convince them we didn't want any trouble. Same way we got you guys to hold your fire."


Roll my eyes.
"I would have never guessed the neck is that weak spot."


"Simple accident. Could have happened to anypony."


Let's assume I'm with Velvet, talking to the scout.
"Stop being so bitter, have some fun with your tech!"


"You know our goals. It's not about trouble, it's about tech."

He throws you a pouch of caps.
"Just take your damn payment and fuck off if you've got nothing more for me."


"Don't be so abrasive about it. Having a Hellhound explode from the ground beneath you doesn't exactly help a pony's grip."


"And so once we showed we didn't want trouble, you were willing to work with us. Same thing."


Take the caps.
It's not split yet, is it?
"Always a pleasure doing business with you."


Give him the bird.


"Right right, I've reached the point where I stop caring about what comes out of your mouth. If you're not here for more work, kindly piss off and let me get back to my own work. I've got a lot on my plate."

It's not split yet, no. 240 caps.


"More work? Something we can help with?"


"I need to be alone for that. Too much yapping going on to distract me."

You don't have fingers!

He gestures at the work board.
"Can you read?"


Split it evenly then.
Outside, so I don't have to put up with his yapping.


There's a chill in the night air. Air currents coming from the east, the Manesian sea. Not a positive indicator of the weather to come.


It was so much easier when they just told me what the weather will be while the pegasi took care of it.
Is anypony outside, or is everyone from town in that bar?


Stare him down.
"If only I had fingers!"
Then turn around and flicker my tail indignated.
So I missed it the first time around, how's this base like?


"Right, right."
Take my share and store it in one of my many pockets.
"Kinda telling that the isolationists who blow up everybu-pony that comes near were nicer than him."


"It's getting chilly."


There's the guards up in their towers of course. Aside from that, there's the occasional pony still up and about, but most are either inside their homes or at the 'bar'.


Decently sized settlement based around an old Hayburger joint. The building itself is used for a few different things while the ponies living here have built shacks on the carriage parking lot out of plate metal and wood to sleep in. They're not impressive or pretty to look at, but they are sturdy. Baltimare lies to the east of here.


Does this place have a motor park?


A what?


You know.
A garage. A place where cars are. Or even wrecks.
Also, pocket my share of money.
"Hey, I will go blow off some steam. Call me if we are moving."


Distribute the cash.
Dress up in my pre-war outfit.

Time to head for the bar.


I'll go to the bar.

"Don't waste all your caps on one mare."


"I swear, if you turn up with another Mutie in bed with you, we're not pulling your ass out of the fire like we did last time."
Might as well go to the bar myself.


"I will try ghoul tonight."
Snicker and be off.


File: 1410297038599.jpg (69.63 KB, 640x480, 640px-Sparkle_cola.jpg)

The carriages were more than likely set up on this parking lot. Of course, these ponies have made it their home by now and stripped anything they could find for building parts. I'm afraid there's not much in the way of stuff to tinker left that hasn't been claimed by someone.

The bar is of course set up in the restaurant part of the hayburger joint. The old chairs and tables ponies once used to sit on to devour their fastfood now used by other ponies to relax and drink at. The counter still serves the same function too, serving drinks ranging from beer to Sparkle-Cola. There's even a pre-war poster advertising the soft drink.

You count 12 ponies still in here. A few of them, Green Glow included, are playing cards. Others are chatting up the barkeep.


Sit down in front of the counter.


"A round of Nuka-Cola for me and my friends here!"


"You're going to spoil us."


Such a desolated place. What is it, two houses and a bar?


"Sharing wealth is good for your health."


Sit down with the rest of the group.
"Ah, generosity. One of the pillarstones of pony society before all this."


"There were 6 of those, weren't there?"


"I could go for a pack of smokes too."


"That's on you."


"Yeah, if memory serves right. Though, towards the end they were more symbols than principles that any ponies actually lived by… maybe they outgrew the childishness of them. Maybe forgetting where they came from caused this. I don't know. Doesn't matter now, does it?"


The waitress stops her conversation and floats over three opened bottles of classic Sparkle cola with her magic.
"That'll be 6 caps please."

If it were desolate, it wouldn't have been picked clean.

You count around 20 houses of various sizes.


6 caps + 1 as tip for the little lady.


Take a sip of my cola.
"Who knows, mister Hitter."


She smiles and winks at you.
"Thank ya kindly, mister."


Any shops or sellers/barterers?


"Damn, I had a feeling you'd say that."

"A pack of smokes for me too."
Take a sip of my cola.
Do these drinks never go bad?


"I can't support bad habits."


spin the bottle idly with my hoof.
Watch the interaction with the barkeep with mild interest.
"Sorry. Just sorta felt like reminiscing is all."


"Not like you were there."


Wave a hoof.
"It's not that bad."


"That stuff will turn your lungs black."


"…I kinda was, though. Not exactly in the middle of it, but at least on the sidelines."


"They said that about the bombs too."


There's a general store that you know of. The town also has a doctor who trades for medical supplies. Finally, there's the bar.

The waitress isn't working alone. There's a stallion working at the bar as well right now.

The amount of preservatives in these drinks must be quite impressive. Strangely enough, the Sparkle cola machines never seem to run out either.

"That'll be 8 caps please."


I smirk.
"You can talk to Azure then, she's been there too."

"Look Azure, another survivor of the war."


General store it is. Let's check the place.


Pay her.
Although I should still have some in my other pack, but who knows when I'll get more next.
Put a cigarette from the already opened pack in my mouth.
"Mind if I smoke in here?"
Light it up.

Sip from the cola.
"You do know I had nothing to do with the war itself? I was the type of pony who gasped even at the mention of violence."
Snort and look at my chainblade.
"Funny to think how all that changed."
Look at Switch Hitter though


"Funny. The way I remember it, ponies didn't have any qualms about stomping out anything they didn't like because it didn't fit in their perfect little world."


Rest my head on a forehoof.
"Oh, definitely. I could kill the reputation of any mare's apple pie with my gossip."


It's decently big and still open despite the late hour. The stallion at the counter is looking tired though, only giving you a nod of acknowledgment as you enter.

There are racks set up along the wall to display his goods, as well as several busted pre-war freezers with goods inside them. Looks like there's a bit of everything being sold here.

"Don't let me stop ya, hun."


"You're 180 years old, Hitter?
You look awfully good still, what's your secret?"


"Heh. Yeah, I guess that, looking back, I probably had a scewed view of things…"
"Lots of clothing. Trust me, if I undressed, any pony would either run screaming or gun me down. Hence why I dress like this."


"….I see."


So… Give this place a quick glance for "cool" pieces of tech.

Roll #1 3 + 2 = 5


Glance at the card-playing ponies.

"You never compliment me with that!
I'm hurt!"

"Were you a soldier?"


"I didn't know you had such a sensitive side, Azure."


"Actually, yes. I was selected to be the first to recieve an experimental "Super-soldier serum" that was supposed to help turn the tide…"
Take a small careful sip from my bottle.
"Though obviously it didn't work as intended."


Not much luck, unfortunately. There are things like scrap electronics and fission batteries lying around, but no lucky finds like a Pipbuck or anything like that.

They seem to be enjoying themselves. Hooting hollering and laughing.

"You ain't gonna bluff me that easily, Green. You gotta get up earlier than that to get to me. Three of a kind here."
"Oh yeah? Well look at this. Full house."
"Ah shit…"
"That's right, Quicky. Woke up at four this morning just for that."


As if I could afford something like that anyway!
What a horrible night, I've even been robbed of my one chance to study the armor!
Sobbing sadly, I will go back to the bar.


"You never asked!"

Shake my head.
"Sorry about that. It must have been even worse there on the frontlines."

How much caps are they betting?


You could find one that is broken for a reasonable price and repair it.

Your companions are sitting at the bar counter. Others are playing cards.

Hard to see from here.


"Don't tell I'll have to send you Hearts and Hooves days cards as well?"

I just nod.


"Eh, don't worry about it. All in the past, as they say."
Take another sip.
"…You ever wonder if we'll be able to get there again?"


Go to the bar counter and look depressed, head over my hooves.
"A beer."


"Back to the Bunker?"


"It might be the only thing keeping me from turning feral."

Try to listen in some more then, maybe they'll say.

"Never. Not us, anyway. I couldn't just go back to tidying the kitchen and making pies after so many years of killing and scavanging, could I?"


I grin.
But make a mental note I'll do that sometime next year.


"No… I mean, the way the world was… Think ponies will ever reach the heights they used to?"
"We've got a long time left yet, if we're careful. Or maybe we don't… I just… can't help but wonder if… maybe ponies broke the world so bad that it can't ever be fixed."


Finish off my cola.
"As weird as that sounds, I actually like the ones with the rads more."

"It won't be fixed until ponies want to fix it, and judging by the number of raiders just around this area… world will be a shit place for a long while."


"Hence why killing raiders is probably a good place to start."


"Not in our lifetimes, so why bother?"

"I drank one of those once. Too acidic for me."


"You just can't handle it.
Say that teasingly.

"There's always more though… I don't even know where they all come from."


"When you have to struggle for survival, not just for you, but for the next generation, 'why bother?' is a devastating mindset."


The waitress pouts.
"Aw, what's wrong, hun?"

They all check until the fourth street, when one of the ponies decides to bet.
"Bet 10."
"Raise 5."
As the river comes along and the first pony to bet unveils his cards, the other curses and discards hers into the pile.


If I was a betting mare I'd probably join, but I'm not swimming in caps I want to piss away on gambling.
So just listen in on them for now.


Look away at my mates.


"You misunderstand me.
I refer to why bother to as fast as possible build up the old world again? It has clearly failed. Ponykind will survive and will rebuild in time on its own. Our priority should thus be to survive."

"I can handle anything."


"Can you?"


They win, they lose. Such is the way a game of luck goes. Eventually, they call it quits and just chatter as they drink.

"Well here ya go. That'll be 4 caps."
She passes you a beer.



But feel free to keep RPing. Another short one tomorrow, I think.


"Where have you been?"


That I can afford. pay her with a grumble.
Look every bit as afflicted as before.


"Because you're supposed to learn from your mistakes, and from my experience ponies have terrible memory. So if we have any hope of fixing things, we need to do so before ponies forget that they're the ones responsible for the state the world is in."


"Wasn't up from what I see, you look pretty down.
Something happened?"


"Today's shit!"
And with that, open the bottle and take a looooong sip.


Let out a laugh.
"Yeah, and what's the bad news?"


Groan and hide my head in my hooves again.
"I have the need!"


"Welcome to life. The ride never ends."


Laugh again.
"There's plenty of stallions around."


"Who cares about that, I need my fix! I have to fix!"
Grumble and stare him wrong.


"Well, there's that tracker that Lead busted. You could try fixing that."


"You should be more careful about the way you word things in a bar then."

Look at him.
"Yeah, there's that. Maybe Ol' Wormie will even reward you."


"You both know that's not what I'm talking about!"
Frown angrily at them, red from the alcohol.


"Actually, I'm not so sure… you do seem awfully tense right now."


"I didn't get to touch it!"


"We don't always get to touch things we want.
And sometimes we get touched by things we don't want."


"Is that your 200 years of wisdom talking?"


"The latter is worse, trust me."


"Wartime story?"
Look at her with half disgusted, half intrigued look.


"Post-war story."
Get my pack of smokes out and offer you one.
"What's the most disgusting, icky, horrid smelling thing you can imagine?"


"Ghoul dick?
No offense!"


"Some taken."
Shrug, then smirk.
"And hey, a mare like me has to take what she can get."
Wave a hoof.
"Anyway, now that you got that, imagine something a hundred times worse."


Raise a hoof, as if to ask for a time out, and bring the other to my mouth, suppressing a burp as I look sick, almost ready to puke.
Hang my head off the side of the counter to breathe in heavily, and then nod, rising my head.
"Okay. Kinda got it.
Wish I hadn't!"


"You've got a vivid imagination.
Anyway… it was a radhog.
Not just any radhog, though. This radhog was destined to be as stomach churningly disgusting as a creature in the wasteland can be."




"You didn't even heard the details yet!
It was wounded, full of blood, this yellowish brown pus oozing from it… it smelled like it's been dead for weeks just from that."


"And why didn't you just walk by?"


"It attacked me from it's choice of residence… a puddle of radioactive shit."
Take a deep breath.
"I'm not even sure how it was still alive."


"Maybe because all that radioactive shit's good for you."


"For me, maybe.
Getting bit by the most foul thin in existence?
Even I threw up after I killed it, because it just made the stench worse."


"Yeah, I think I will pass on the rest of this beer now…"
Lean back on my seat and push the bottle as far away from me as I can.


Lean closer and grab the bottle with a wing.
"Don't mind if I do, then."
Give you a smirk.


Frown at her and snatch it back.
"Had too shitty a day for this!"


Let it go.
"You surrendered it! I thought it was up for grabs!"


Grumble and gurgle the rest of the beer down, looking even more drunk.
"Not thonight!"
Point menaceously at her with the bottle.


Put up my forehooves and wings as if I just conceded.
"Easy there, lightweight.
That bottle is an awfully potent weapon."


"Yyyyyyyyooooou better watsh hout!"
Try and stare her down, only to feel sick and fall over the counter a second later.
"Tomorrow's gonna be better…"


"As long as you don't throw up, sure it will."
Pat your back.


Play around with the bottle.
"I'll try…
No promishe…"


"I'm not cleaning for you.
Shit, I'll rub your muzzle in it so you don't do it again.
Worked on my cat before the war when she pissed the carpet."




"A small ball of fluff with sharp claws.
Really cute…"
"Haven't seen one in a long while."


"Can yoooou finn'acat?"


Give you an amused look.
"That's a tall order.
What do I get if I can?"


"Mah best wench!"


"I wouldn't take that away from you. Couldn't use it for much anyway."


Pout and look up at her.
"Pwetty pweashe?"


Look back at you.
"Not the pout…"
"I'll do my best."


Change that quickly into a smile and hug the ghoulette, swinging the empty bottle around her neck!



Pat your back with the opposite of enthusiasm.
"You might as well have asked me to find you a working balefire bomb, but what the hell. One more thing to keep me sane."


"Bestest friend ever!"


And what happened, then? Well, in Hayburg they say - that the ghoulette's small heart grew three sizes that day.

"Don't let it get to your head, allright?"


Let go of her rotten flesh, almost falling asleep on the counter.
"Okay, besty…"


"Just sleep, honey, you'll head will hurt enough tomorrow."


Nod and nice faff.


Skip to the next morning? There's a common room with beds for rent. A mere 10 caps per bed for a night. You don't have any sort of permanent base of operations yet.


Sure, that sounds good. I make sure to lock my door before going to bed. Barring the doors having locks, I'll barricade it so that I'll have time to dress in the morning without interruption.


Sounds like something a drunk mechanic could not object to.



Like I said, it's a shared common room. Individual rooms cost more. 22 caps for the night.


Worth the caps. Better safe than sorry, after all.


Roger. That's your night settled then.

You awaken the following morning to the sound of music coming from outside. Someone must have turned on the radio.


The sun is already up, its rays penetrating through some of the holes in the dusty old curtains covering the windows. Wrench Mark may or may not be experiencing a mild headache.


Rub my forehead and groan.
"Who let me near a beer…"



Frown at her, only to wince a second later.
Try and wiggle out of my bunk.

Roll #1 2 = 2


d20, remember?


Get up, get dressed, head on out.
"Good morning!" I announce cheerfully and more loudly than necessary.


Second wince.

Roll #1 14 = 14


I should dress up in my combat outfit.


You step out of the bunk without hurting yourself further.


Un-wrinkle my clothes and pick up tools and stuff.


You'll want to go downstairs for that. Mind your step when descending the stairs!


Zombie mode: Engage.

Roll #1 2 = 2


Some stairs won't get the best of me!

Roll #1 12 = 12


More zombie than Azure Flower. You tumble down the last few stairs and land on your butt.

Your friend doesn't seem fully awake yet.


Snicker as I pass her and go outside.

Light up a smoke.


Bust out laughing as I head downstairs too.
"Oh, this is quality entertainment."


You push open the door and head outside. The town of Hayburg is starting up its day. Guards are changing their shifts, children are playing outside and ponies are starting their day of work.


Grumble incoherently at her.
Drag myself over the floor to the bar counter.


Children, huh?
Watch them play as I smoke.


The waitress isn't here, but the barkeep is. He chuckles and straightens you up with his telekinesis.
"Not that I mind the free cleaning job, missy, but you're in quite the state."

Hayburg is a trading town, so they've seen plenty of ghouls pass by here. They pay you no mind and keep playing their foalish games.


Look at him with empty eyes.
Dragging my voice on as I try reach for the desk.


Finish that cigarette and look at the job board again.


"Alright alright. Just a moment."
He takes a can and pours some in a cracked cup, setting it down in front of you.
"That'll be 4 caps. Ya might want to swing by the doc to get rid of that pesky hangover."

In Ol' Worms shack?


Is that the only one?


There are no wanted posters out at the moment, as Green Glow explained.

You could try approaching the mayor.


I guess I should.

Do so.


Sip the coffee up and a second later blink, full of energy again.
"Nah, it's fine now."
Grin and gulp down the rest of the coffee, shaking off the hangover.


The Mayor's office is also set up inside the hayburger joint, separated from the bar.

There's a little plaque on the door that reads 'Mayor's office'. The door is closed and you hear talking coming from the inside.

He raises a brow, then shakes his head.
"Ain't no skin off my back."


Time to eavesdrop.

Roll #1 17 = 17


"Thanks for the lift poppa."
Give him five caps and off I go, find the others.


I'll just stick with the group for now.


There's three voices. Two male and one female.

"All scouts have reported back in, sir."
"Not much in the way of good news. They're still fighting, but it looks like Roaring Fire and his posse are getting the upper hand."
"Now that's surprising. I thought that other psycho would've outsmarted him."
"I suspect chems are winning him this little war."
You hear somepony clearing his throat. The third voice speaks up.
"We've received word of Brotherhood scouts from the Fillydelphian chapter being on the move."
"Hmm… See to it that you keep an eye on their activities, captain."
The female voice speaks up again.
"Furthermore… those mercenaries are doing work for Ol' Worm. Could it be a coincidence that the Brotherhood are changing their tactics as well as asking for aid from non-Brotherhood personnel?"

Azure is eavesdropping at the mayor's door!


Then I will be her pointmare!

Roll #1 20 + 2 = 22


Pointedly ignore her so I don't draw undue attention to her, making a note to question her on what she overheard later.


Oh, talking about us, huh?
Perk that ear.


When they come, you'll hear it.
"Let's hope they are you just desperate and aren't up to something sinister. We've got plenty of raiders to worry about already without slavers and steel rangers mucking things up."
"Yes sir. But this may point to them looking for something of value. Of course, that son of a bitch scribe won't tell us a thing."
"You seem awfully invested in this matter, miss Glow."
"Just being careful, mayor. I've had my share of run-ins with them."
"Well, I trust you won't cross the line questioning the scribe."
"He's got a big mouth, but his threats don't impress me. I can handle it."
"Good to hear. Dismissed."
The conversation is over.

It's a separate part of the building and no one else seems to be around right now.


"Catch anything interesting?"


Time to knock and enter then.


"They've got troubles. That means caps."


The mayor speaks up.
"Come in."


"And gratitude, if we're lucky."


"That won't pay for smokes."

Enter and get straight to the point.
"Word is you've got a bit of raider trouble on your hooves."


Scoot in as well, looking curiously all around.


The mayor's office is fairly simple. Once it must have belonged to the manager of the hayburger joint. There are several rusty filing cabinets set up right next to the door as well as a partially ruined display case, now filled with office supplies.

The mayor himself is seated at a desk with a terminal. The two ponies he was speaking to, Green Glow and a stallion you don't know the name of, are standing to the side, nodding at you politely.

"You could say that, miss…?"


"Fix'n easy. Modical prices."


"Azure Flower, but you can just call me Pretty."


"Still a valuable commodity these days."
"Switch Hitter. You could say I have experience dealing with bandits."


There's a nameplate on his desk. It reads Cream Soda.

"Hm, you must be those mercenaries I've heard about."
He glances at Green Glow.
"Well ponies, I'm sorry to say that while the Baltimare raiders are an issue to us, I can't send ponies after them on good conscience. While I don't doubt your… martial prowess, it is still a very very dangerous place filled with dangerous ponies."


You are funny!"


He raises a brow.
"I'm sorry?"


"Wait, you were serious with that speech about conscience?"
Look honestly surprised!


"Would you endanger a few mercs or the lives of the ponies here?"


"Well… these days, the whole damn world is a dangerous place filled with dangerous ponies. Besides, we're dangerous… ponies too."


The party asked about taking down the raiders to Green Glow already, who mentioned in return that the mayor refuses to send anyone into the city to take them on.
"I've seen too many ponies being consumed by that pit of misery already. I will not endorse any more of it."

"It's not a matter of 'or', but one of 'and'. It doesn't matter who you are, if you enter their territory, you will be swarmed, beaten, raped, tortured and killed."

"There are various degrees of dangerous in the wasteland. Heading into Baltimare to fight raiders without a serious force is no smarter than going to Canterlot to blow away the pink cloud."


"What if they enter your territory? It's dangerous to count on them just fighting among themselves forever."


"We are gathering resources to secure ourselves. Once we have those, we could band together with other settlements, hire some help, acquire more firepower and strike them hard and fast."


"Well, you'd need to make sure they stay occupied until then."


He shakes his head sullenly.
"Occupied? They'll just use your as target practice, have their way with you and come to us first for revenge. I'm sorry, but I don't want the town's funds going to suicide missions while we should be saving up."


"Pay us once we get back, how about that?"


"So you just want to sit around and hope for the best?"


"I'm sorry, but no. If you truly want to go to Baltimare to get yourself killed, find somepony else to pay you for it. My hooves are clean. If it's just money you're after, it won't be caps from the town's fundings. Perhaps miss Glow or the captain have jobs with rewards coming from their own pockets."


"Eh, whatever. Screw Baltimare."


"If you say so.
Killing raiders isn't the only job we can take."


Going to pause for now. Sion isn't playing and Cheesy is gone.


The stallion referred to as 'captain' speaks up.
"I don't suppose you folks can tell us more about what the Brotherhood up in Filly are planning?"


"Hoarding tech like the unfunny bastards they are!"


"The usual?"


"You've been doing work for them, haven't you? As outsiders? That's not their usual modus operandi. They're also conducting a large scale scouting mission from what I hear…"


"Boring, politics!"


"Maybe they are looking for a Stable."


"Who cares what the Brotherhood does?
They're on their own."


"They seem to be looking for something."


He frowns.
"I care. But if you don't then I guess it can't be helped."

He raises a brow and looks at the mayor and Green Glow.
"That could be the case… could you elaborate?"

Green Glow sighs and leans against the wall, gazing at the outside through a cracked window.
"Tech, of course. It's always the tech. I hope it's just a Stable and not something more dangerous."


"It's just a hunch, but think about it. They scout the area looking for that Stable. If they don't find it, then there's us. More eyes see more, and they'd probably expect us to tell them if we find it, or even if we just talk about finding one, rumors spread awfully fast."


The captain rolls his eyes.
"And when they do find it, they'll muscle their way in, steal everything of value and kill anyone that resists."

Green Glow turns and shakes her head and him.
"I don't think so, the Fillydelphian chapter aren't that extreme unlike some others. They'll probably just crack open the door and ask for payment in return for their protection against the horrors of the waste."
"If they find a Stable. And if the inhabitants haven't… expired already."
The mayor finally adds.


"Or turned into raiders or something that immediately kills them all."


I'm not sure what to do now that isn't walking away from the party.


No one is keeping you here.


I'll just wait here till we move on then.


"Do you have a point with all this guesses or are you just bouncing off ideas for free info?"


"Even with everypony dead inside, a Stable can be very valuable… and dangerous."


"As unfortunate as this might be if true, I can think of worse things for them to find."

"I'm terribly sorry, but I was convening with my two advisers until you folks came in here. What is it then? What more do you want from us?"


"Maybe one of them has a cat…"


"Right. Seeya."

Off I go.
"Wonder if anyone has a job around here…"


"Right. We'll be going then."
"So, anything you guys want to do, or should we head out?"


"Let's try and find a job around here."


"A cat? What an odd thing to say. What would it matter?"

You're back outside. Where to?


I heard the guard captain might be offering jobs. Let's try to hit the guy.


Sounds good to me.


"Just asking… you haven't seen or heard of cats recently, have you?"


He's still in the mayor's office, you just came from there!

Both stallion shakes their heads.

Green Glow nods though.
"I've heard of cats alright. Reports from Everfree of some kind of mutant creature that partially looks like a small kitten, but has a stare that will turn you to stone like a cockatrice would."


Right… there any other towns in the area that we know of?


"Where did those pricks say the scouts were headed for?"


"Everfree, huh…
Well, thanks anyway. I'll go catch up with the rest so they don't get themselves killed."

Join the others.


The closest town you know of would be Wiggledart, to the southwest of here. It's a heavily fortified settlement built on the Horseshoe riverbed.

The door is shut behind you.


"I wasn't the one listening in."
"You catch where those scouts were headed?"


Come along.
Where are we going?


Shake my head.
"I doubt following them just like that is a good idea though."


"Eh, true. Want to head for Wiggledart, see if they've got work there?"


"I suppose that's a plan."


"I would like to remind all of you we promised Green Glow to help her track down this magic dust for her."


"Oh, right. Let's get that out of the way first.
It was north, right?"


"Yes, if I remember clearly she was concerned somepony had been using it for nefarious purposes."


"Like there's something not nefarious nowadays!"


"That waitress in the bar didn't look nefarious to me."


"That's because you didn't see her snake eyes!"


Head out North?

If so, everyone make a travel roll. Just a d20.


"…Drinking the morning after you got drunk isn't healthy, you know."



Roll #1 5 = 5


Stick my tongue out to him.

Roll #1 17 = 17



Roll #1 2 = 2


"You just say that because you got drunk from one beer."


Roll #1 9 = 9


You. Roll an additional perception roll.


Perceptive ghoul

Roll #1 4 = 4


Not really.

You leave the town and start heading North. Far to the east, you occasionally hear an explosion coming from the Baltimare area. It doesn't matter to you though, you keep heading North. After three hours of walking, you come across a industrial area filled with ruined pre-war factories. The closer you get to Fillydelphia, you know, the more of these factories you'll encounter. In pre-war times, Fillydelphia was an industrial hub dominated by earth ponies.

The area looks deserted and you begin to traverse the closest industrial terrain. There's all kinds of rusted junk here. Machinery, scrap, barrels, and so on.


"Don't you love the scenery?

Where did Glow say that stuff was, Lead?"


"Should be around here.
Some traces of Vinteum dust."


You know Vinteum dust is blue in color and gives off a faint glow of light. It doesn't emit radiation but consuming it is highly dangerous.


"Remind me, what does that do to you?"

Remind myself. Knowledge check.

Roll #1 19 + 5 = 24


Keep an eye out for it

Roll #1 20 = 20


Vinteum dust is a highly magical substance which does not occur naturally and is rather hard to produce. You know poison joke is one of the primary ingredients used to create it. It's blue, luminescent and poisonous if consumed.

Its primary use lies in certain spell preparations and alchemy.

You're feeling really good for some reason…

… Wait a minute… there's radiation here! coming from that factory building! And it's increasing the closer you get to it!


Okay, keep my eyes open for it.

Roll #1 2 + 2 = 4


"Don't touch it unless you'd like an extra eye."


Guys, I'm sorry to break this to you, but there's radiation here. If you have Rad-X or a suit you hid under your clothes now is the time to put them on."
Point at the factory.
"It's coming from there."


"Urgh… And we have to go there?"

Pop my rad-x.




"We don't have to take it with us, all we need to know is if somepony else messed with it."


Resisting Rads by 10 per turn.

Note: Current Rads per turn is at 20. You are all at 30 rads in total, except for Azure.


What's the tolerable rads level?


"Better not piss away more time here where it hurts you."

Walk to the factory.


100 and above marks the point of minor rad poisoning.


>got 6 more turns before poisoning
"Guys, we can't go in there. I don't want to turn into a ghoul, there's no telling how much this is gonna increase!"
I back away from where we came from.


"I'll do it, calm down.
And you get one of those rad counters."


Look sad beyond belief.
"I always dreamt of one…"


"We'll get you one, allright?
Now scram unless you want to be pretty like me."


You're at 40 by the time you get out of that zone.

You could just walk around the factory and explore a different one.

By the time you enter the factory proper, you RAD levels are at 40 per turn. Very potent. You need to watch out too.

It's dark in here, but there are some glowing shrooms around to light some parts of the factory up. Looks like some kind of chemical plant.


Let's have a look around the area, scouting for other buildings.


I'll try to cut it short.

Canter towards the light, no time for strolling.
See what's up with the glowing shrooms, and if they have the blue stuff on them.


On a industrial terrain like this, there are various other factories and storage depots around. At first glance from your location, you spot a food processing plant, a recycling center, a fireworks (?) factory and two more that aren't immediately apparent what they produced.

No blue stuff over here. These are just mushrooms that thrive in radioactive areas. They're like you in shroom form! There are a lot of vats on this floor, but you spot a set of stairs and an elevator leading to the next floor.



I don't think I can survive that and leave it to Azure


Up I go.


LAST TIME ON FALLOUT QUEST the party headed North and stumbled upon an industrial terrain filled with pre-war factories. After encountering an irradiated zone around a chemical plant, Azure went on on her own inside.

The party is currently on the lookout for a magical substance known as vinteum dust. Traces are said to have been found in the area and Green Glow wished to know where it came from.

Azure goes inside on her own. Wrench Mark is checking out some of the other factories around here.

Roll Aptitude.


Make sure there aren't any hostiles sneaking up on us.

Roll #1 4 = 4



Roll #1 19 - 1 = 18


You're in the safe for now, you think. Surely no one else would use this industrial terrain in this day and age right?

Not a problem. You smartly avoid some of the weak spots on the stairs. The whole thing has been rusted quite badly over the years, but you're a nimble little flower.

You reach the top, the next floor. A faded sign next to the door tells you this was the research and development department. You immediately enter an old laboratory as a result. There's all sorts of technical equipment here, mostly pertaining to chemistry.


Anything that looks like it might still be useful and or valuable?
Also, look for the glowing stuff too.

Roll #1 14 = 14


Good. Well… guess I'm just waiting on Azure now.


You find: 5 units of Rad-X, 3 units of Radaway, 2 stimpaks as well as a bottle of whiskey somepony had hidden away. Not that useful to you personally, but smoothskins will find it useful!

There's also some other crap lying around like a few intact vials and syringes. And a few broken terminals you could get some scrap electronics from.

So you're just going to stand there?


Well, is there anything to loot nearby?


Grab all the meds and the alcool.
Some of the intact syringes as well.
Let's try scrapping some terminals without causing too much damage.

Roll #1 7 = 7


Like, other buildings nearby or something?


Go check out another building.


Alright then, where was I?


There's a bunch of rusted trash lying around. Dumpsters, barrels, discarded equipment, and so on. Because it's lying out in the open, there's not much of value here.

You only manage to get one unit of scrap electronics…

You're at the edge of an industrial zone. There are multiple pre-war factories here, some of them in better shape than others. At first glance from your location, you spot a food processing plant, a recycling center, a fireworks (?) factory and two more factories that aren't immediately apparent what they produced.


The recycling center, what's garbage for somepony is gold for somepony else!


"Wanna check out the recycling center?"




Ehhh, good enough.
Time to leave.


"It's gotta be loaded, I feel it!"


"What kind of feeling is that?"


"The tingly feeling in my tail when I'm close to a big hunk of metal…"
Bite my lower lip with dreamy eyes.


Lift a brow but say nothing.


"…seriously?" Snort and shake my head.
"Well, I'd be lying if I said that was the weirdest thing I'd ever heard…"


Garbage which was already garbage before the war.

But anyway! You approach the recycling center through the yard behind it. There's trash everywhere here, but it's been compressed into cubes. You spot multiple conveyor belts sticking out of the building, probably used to transport these trash cubes outside.

Head inside the building itself? Check the trash here?

You leave and head back downstairs, careful on the stairs, then back outside just in time to see the party disappear behind a mountain of trash.


I want to have a check at the conveyor belts, where do they come from? Head in from there!


"Wait here while I take a peek inside to make sure the coast is clear."
Sneak my way inside. '1d20+1'

Roll #1 1 + 1 = 2


They always find the least useful of places.
Follow them with a sigh.


You jump onto one of the conveyor belts and follow it inside the factory. It smells pretty bad in here, but there's a lot of stuff lying around. Overhead, you spot giant machines attached to the ceiling, no doubt the ones responsible for crushing and shaping the trash into those cubes you saw outside. You would not want to be here if those things turn on.

You accidentally bump into a stack of trash cubes a bit too hard, causing it to topple over into another stack and causing a horrible chain reaction that results in a lot of noise.

This may have been one of the least effective sneaking attempts the world has ever seen.

It sounds like they're having fun at least, with the amount of noise they're making.

You witness the last stacks of trash toppling over with a loud crash.


I'll take a look through the trash. Anything valuable? '1d20+2'

Roll #1 16 + 2 = 18


I must find a way to get over there and take them apart!


That didn't draw any attention, did it?


Chuckle at his clumsiness and keep heading in.


Walk in.
"Okay, which one of you do we need to dig out from under that?"


"Sorry. Lost my footing and… well, you see what happened."


Unfortunately, Switch Hitter made a bit of a mess. Most of this stuff has been crushed a second time now, so finding anything useable proves hard at first, until you bump into something buried under the trash.

A robot! More specifically a Robotron. Roll a knowledge check (Int) if you want to see how much you know about these.

They're up pretty high and you don't have wings yourself…


How could you know?

All you know is that caused a lot of noise.


"I sure hope all the hellhounds in the area heard it."


Not all ponies working in the pre-war equestria had wings either! There has to be a ladder!


There's a catwalk up there that you can see… but it may be dangerous and unstable. You can definitely try to get up there though, but it will require a Aptitude roll to traverse it.


Intelligent robopony '1d20'

Roll #1 13 = 13


Nah, I'm gonna die here.
Instead, try and get the attention of the others.
"Found anything?"


You know a little bit about them. They roam around the wasteland collecting scrap in return for caps. You're not sure why they do this, but they're not malevolent. They're very friendly, in fact.

They don't look very ponylike like a Brain bot would, though. The main bit is essentially shaped as a large metal cylinder (sort of reminds you of a trash can) and has a terminal built into it which projects their 'face'. They drive around on two wheels and have two arm-like things sticking out the sides to grab stuff with.


Is it on or damaged?


It's not online, but it doesn't look damaged.


Look around for easier-to-reach loot.
Roll what?


"Find something?"


Perception, which falls under Aptitude.


Oh gee, I might not have wanted this as a dump stat.

Roll #1 8 - 1 = 7


You win some, you lose some.

Unfortunately, those giant machines did a pretty good job at crushing the stuff that's lying around outside. Nothing really useable catches your eye.


Not even the giant robot still intact which I could boot up again in a minute that's just lying around, uh?


"A small robot actually."


"Oh, right, you smoothskins might want to have these."
Pass them the stimpacks and meds.
I'll keep the booze.


"Interesting. Want me to help dig it out?"


My eyes light up.




You don't need a roll to find that!


"By all means."


Start digging!
'1d20+5' since that would be a physical task.

Roll #1 4 + 5 = 9


There's just so much trash to dig up, every time you move some, some more falls down in its place!


5 units of Rad-X, 3 units of Radaway, 2 stimpaks.

Who gets what though?


1-1 stims, 2 radaway to Switch and 1 to Wench, and 3 Rad-X to Wench with the last two for Switch


I'll help dig '1d20+1'

Roll #1 14 + 1 = 15


You clear out the robotron of trash, confirming it is indeed not damaged, just offline for some reason.


"This might fetch us a good price back in civilization."


Salivating, advance towards the robot and hump it, hugging it tight as I go over all the bits and pieces of its system!
"S-sell this? You must be joking!
With some tools I could make it work again!"


It's cool to the touch. Dead silent, completely offline.

If it's not damaged, you could pop it open and reactivate it.


"So we can have more trash?"


"Or we can teach it to trash ponies!"

So… Pop the lid open!
Tinker with it!

Roll #1 6 + 3 = 9


+2 more from talent.


Your turn it over so the back of the main compartment faces you and open it up. After a little bit of searching, you find the reset switch and activate it.

The machine springs to life, closing the lid on its own and righting itself on its wheels. The screen flickers and showcases a line running from one end of the screen to the other…


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