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File: 1445107233508.jpg (24.44 KB, 389x259, nevada_saloon.jpg)

 No.646251[Last 50 Posts]

Being a Ranger of Equestria is never easy.
Especially not in the desert.
Even moreso if you lose a leg and have to sell everything to get a new one, just so you can get back to protecting the innocent ponies from outlaws again.
But it's the life you chose, and what you are good at.

Even if it leads you into strange wars between mercenaries and bandits who are shooting up the town.


Time to use my head to get out of this sticky situation.

Unarmed attack '1d10'

Roll #1 10 = 10


You feel that all those years of rigorous ranger training had paid off when you forget all of that and listen to your instincts, headbutting the pony atop of you so hard you hear a sickening crack.
The bandit falls to the ground, unconcious.


Get up.
Pick up the knife of that bandit and any other weapons he may carry.
Then look around for that mare.


You pick up a knife and a sawed-off shotgun from the bandit.
Now that the dust from the collapse of the church settled somewhat, you can see a lot more. Mostly, that the mercenaries used the chaos to their advantage and wiped out the main force of the bandits while capturing the gryphons. Well, most of them, anyway, you see a few bandits and catbutts fleeing the town, into the desert.
Now that the shooting stopped, you see curious, worried ponies starting to stick their heads out of cellars.


Motion to them to be silent!

Take a look outside, is every crook gone?


Well, the bandits and gryphons who aren't dead or fleeing are being disarmed and rounded up.
Looks like the mercs won.


I bet that mare is in charge of them somewhere.


The two obvious places to look would either be the sheriff's office or the town hall.


Sheriff's Office.


When you enter you see three mercenaries going through lockers and filing cabinets. Strangely enough, they don't seem to give a damn about the weapons.
They all tense up when you enter.
An earth pony mare, wearing the same black leather armor with the emerald gem as most of them, steps forward.
"What is it, Ranger?"


"I was looking for the Sheriff, have you seen him by any chance?"


"The one with the hat?"
She shakes her head.
"Bandits probably got 'im. If he was lucky, they killed him. If not, they dragged him away."


"Indeed, so who are you guys? I'm not familiar with your unit."


She pulls herself up with pride.
"Emerald Mercenaries. Not any Equestrian military, but we are trying to see the damage that has been done here."


"It's a good thing you came by when you did."


She grimaces.
"Not soon enough. We are stretched as it is."


"Is there a commander around? I'd like to speak to her."


"Knowing how vain she is, she's probably whererever the leadership of this town was held."
She chuckles.
"That or the clinic. If it wasn't for her freaky armor, she'd be giblets from that gryphon grenade."


"Thank you."
Are they still looking for something?


Yep, the rest are still going through the files.


Then they haven't found whatever they're looking for.
Time to go visit the clinic.


It's full of injured ponies.
No bandits or talons though, only the mercs.
Two field medics are doing their best to treat everypony. No sign of the green mare here either.


Ask one of the doctors what's going on.


He seems pretty stressed, his hooves covered in blood.
"Oh, nothing, just a daisy fucking day with birds chirping! I'm trying to save ponies, what does it look like?"


"What about the citizens?"


He shrugs.
"They were clever enough not to poke their fucking heads out in the fight. I suspect you had a hoof in that. Only ones hurt were some old mares from the church, but my nurse took care of their little boo-boos."


I take my leave again, let's go to the town hall


You see that the remaining bandits are lined up… then promptly shot in the back of the head, one by one.
You also hear the screams of a gryphon female from somewhere nearby.

You see two of the black carpace armored ponies standing guard by the enterance of town hall.


I doubt this is legal, but as long as they're not shooting civilians I'll pretend I didn't notice.

Nod to them and walk in.


They stand down with their wings just enough to let you pass.

You immediately head upstairs, and through the heavy double doors of the mayors office.

There are only two ponies here.
Well, the third one, the mayor, lies in his cold blood on the floor, dead.

At his rich mahagony table, you see the green mare, out of her armor, her hindlegs thrown up on the desk. She is grinning like a maniac.
You see the unicorn you saw a the cave standing behind her stoicly.
She speaks as you enter.
"Well, if it isn't the savior of the fucking day, a Ranger, gracing us with his humble presence!"


Look to the mayor.
"I assume he was in league with the bandits?"


She shrugs.
"Fucked if I know.
Probably. The hole would be in his head if I was the one who found him."


"So I'll assume you're the leader of the Emerald Mercenaries? We met."


She grins, almost literally patting herself on the back with a wing.
"That I am. And yeah… sort of. You could call it that."


"Not really an original name, is it? Emerald Mercenaries?"


She snorts.
"Ranger is a really stupid fucking name too."


Take out that bullet I found and show it to her.
"Does this look familiar to you?"


She narrows her eyes for a second.
"Oh yeah, we used to make those in Los Pegasus before our factory got fucked in the ass. Those babies can tear a pony apart."


"Do you still use them?"


"What we have left, sure. Why? You want some? I'm sure we could barter some. For a nice little price~"


"These have been used recently to murder an entire town not too far from here…"


"Were they?"
She seems to ponder.
"Nah, can't recall."


Sense Lies '1d10'

Roll #1 4 = 4


That sounds pretty sincere, if uncaring. You'd bet she'd just as readily admit if she had.
And you did find these at the burnt husk of a slaughtered bandit outpost!
Maybe they weren't used by the bandits, but to kill them?


I did?
I don't remember.
Wait, so these didn't belong to those bandits that tried to kill me?


They could, but they could not.
These mercs seemed all too ready to slaughter the bandits like you did.


What I want to know is, where did I find this?


In the burnt out remains of an outpost, which was controlled by bandits.


The bandits that attacked the first town?


It was most likely their base of operations for staging that Appleloosa attack, yes.


Look at her.
"Who's paying you to do this? Kill all these bandits?
You don't seem like the type who'd do that for free."


She shifts, getting her legs off to sit properly, glaring at you.
"Does it matter? I get paid, yes, but I'd fucking kill those Talon cunts for sport."


"That doesn't answer my question."


She clicks her tongue.
"I'm afraid I'm contractually obliged to refrain from disclosing who put me up to this."
She shrugs.
"Tough luck, huh?"


"A shame. I bet he's paying a lot."


She glances at her armor by the desk.
That shit shrugged off a grenade and barely looks singed. Her neck does have a small bandage though.
"You fucking bet. As long as the bad guys die, no harm, right?"


"I figured, you don't even seem interested in any bounty these bandits might have had on their heads."


"There's a huge bounty going around for any sheriffs though. Even bigger for Rangers."
She grins.


"If you were planning on cashing that one in, you'd have tried to kill me already."


"Would have had a much better shot too." She glances around.
"If it was just the two of us in this room, I'm not even sure I'd be the one walking away. I'm not retarded."


"You're too kind.
Do you happen to know who's been putting a bounty on us Rangers?"


She nods with a snarl.
"Some fucker with a deathwish. He has all these bandits funded, but he's losing…"
She sighs.
"Was, losing. I don't know where the fuck he pulled those allies from, but he has some fucking freaky skilled terrorists working for them. A lot of my mercs are the crem de la creme-"
She pauses at herself to chuckle.
"But that ammo factory? A single fucking guy in Los Pegasus did it. We have no idea who, and the City Watch is just as clueless. A masked fucking shadow, killing over two dozen of my ponies."


"One of those bandits might know.
If your group hasn't killed them all by now."


She spits on the floor.
"Bunch of fucking goons, the lot of them. We've been trying to get one of the witches, instead, but they are slippery fuckers."




"Rare, but we've encountered some. Working with the bandits and terrorists for some reason. Only managed to kill one of them so far."


"Any idea where I can find one?"


"They took an important train station recently, with a gang called Blood Riders. I suspect one of them had a hoof in it."


"I see." ask for the precise location, once I have that follow up with
"What will you do here?"


It's quite a distance from here, possibly a day on hoof.
"Leave somepony in charge, declare martial law, wait for a new sheriff to take things over."


"Good… Just one more question, why do you use wargs?"


She lets out a cruel laugh.
"They are loyal, and if not, I can just shoot them. All they need is some meat."


"I've heard they tend to be treacherous animals, easily switching sides…"


She smirks.
"If it was only for food or someshit… yes, they might."
She shakes her head.
"But I made their aaaaaaaaaaallllll powerful master my bitch… so now they fear me. And now they know if they try to do anything that displeases me I will just set them on fire and watch them burn."


"Who is that? Some kind of Warg pack leader or a pony?"


"Nah. It's a big stupid hunk of a diamond dog. You know how ponies have cutie marks? Apparently some of the larger dogs develop freakish good talents too, and his is to be a packmaster. So I tamed him, and now I own his pack of wargs too."


"Interesting. I'm sure you won't have trouble keeping him in line."


"He is useful, for now. Once that use runs out, he won't be trouble for anypony ever again."


Take my leave.
How are the citizens doing?


You are on your way out of the building when you are stopped by the voice of the mare, calling you from the top of the stairs.
"Hey, Ranger. One more thing."
She throws you one of the emerald badges they all seem to be carrying.


Look at it.
"I'm afraid I'm not looking for a new job."


She rolls her eyes.
"No shit. But with my unicorn pal back there, I can reach anypony who has one of these. Keep it around. You might still be useful…"
She fakes a pout.
"And you do want to help save all the helpless teeny-weenie wittwe ponies, don't you?"


"Just don't call to tell me about the latest fashion news."


"I've heard bandit heads on spikes are in this season."
She grins then walks away again.

As you exit, you see that some ponies, not in armor, try to talk to the civilians. Hoofing out rations.


I wouldn't be surprised if she put one of those heads on her hat. There's sure enough room for it.

Walk to the ponies.


They seem more concerned than frigthened now, a young stallion rushing to you.
"Ranger! Is this true? Are we going to live like this? Being told what and when to eat, and what to do? T'aint fair!"


"Just a temporary situation, I'm going to request new law enforcement ponies to come here as fast as possible."


He frowns.
"Is my… are we safe now, at least? We won't start disappearing one by one like before? While the other murderers were here?"


"You won't. Trust me, the first thing I'll do is get somepony to take over from these fellows here.
Things will be back to normal soon."


An older mare joins in.
"And will they take that… abomination to ponykind down? The thing they did at the edge of town?"


Perk a brow.
"What did they do?"


She sneers in disgust.
"I… I can't. See for yourself."
She points to a direction down the main street.


Take a look.


You walk down to the edge of town, and it's hard to miss. It's mostly the same thing you saw near the pig farms.
A gryphon female, stripped down naked except of her headgear, showing she was the leader of the local Talon outfit, all six of her limbs nailed to two large wooden poles and fastened with barbed wire. You see a sign written with her blood hanging in her neck, saying:


Take a sip of my whiskey.
"I'm sure they'll take it down soon. It's just a warning for today."
Look to the Emerald Mercenaries and make sure they hear.
"Because if law enforcement saw this when they come here they might get the wrong idea."


The refreshing liquid burns your throat all the right ways.
Some of the mercs look your way, then look to each other, but don't dare to say anything.


They figure it out.
I need to get going.


You can easily get the supplies for the trip from the nearby Fort you visited. Maybe give them a heads up too.


Such is the plan.
Poor lonesome cowboy, long long way from home…


Not even his trusty hound to keep him company.


Let's just fast travel.


It's late afternoon by the time you get there.
You hear the sounds of soldiers eating at the canteen.
The ponies who are on guard duty salute you and let you in.


Who was the pony in charge here again?


The mare called Loaded Barrel is in charge of Fort Buckaneer.


Ask to see her again.


She is in her office, polishing her horseshoes. Guess some things never change, whether the soldies is a private or the mare in charge of the whole fort.
She has an unfinished plate of diced carrots on her desk.
She looks up with surprise at you, but continues polishing.
"Good to see you around again, Ranger."


"Thanks for thinking of me, I'm starving!"
Take one of those diced carrots and eat it!


She rolls her eyes but doesn't stop you.
"I assume you didn't come here just for carrots."


Sit down and throw the Emerald badge on the table.
"Does this look familiar to you?"


She puts down her rags and walks over, eyeing it up.
"Hm… it does, but I'm not sure from where."


"Some group of mercenaries calling themselves the Emerald Mercenaries gave it to me."
Roll a cig.


She sits down.
"Wait a second, gave it to you? Rangers work with mercenaries now?"


"Sometimes you have to go a little outside the book.
There was a town in endangered by a bandit group, and those mercenaries had a grudge against those bandits. The Talons or something they called themselves. Bunch of birdponies."


"Hmmm… a faction wars? Can't say it's under our noses, but I thought they were just rumors that sprung from a few isolated incidents."


"Seems so. Those mercenaries are in charge of the town for now. I need to send a message to HQ to send a new sheriff there, as fast as possible."


She raises an eyebrow.
"Are they?… Well, in that case, I'll send them a message right away."



"Anything else you need?"


"A back massage would be nice…" wink.


She snortles.
"I can tell one of the soldier boys, they got real strong hooves."


"Aaw, I need a gentler touch right now."


"Sadly, we had to close the brothel for renovations."


"That must cause tensions in the fort.
The bar is still open, right?"


"As disciplined as my boys and girls are, I don't want to risk a riot. The bar is always open."


Time to take my leave then, get a drink.


You two say pleasant goodbyes and you head off to the bar.
It's empty aside from the barkeep now that the rest are off eating.
As you sit at the counter, he offers you a mug of beer without asking.
The greying stallion, looking to be in his fifties, looks you dead in the eyes and says: "Every mare is a whore."


"You can say that again."


He puts five shot glasses on the counter and picks up a glass of whiskey.
"Don't mope, my friend, listen to me. This is you-" He says, holding the bottle up, the points at the glasses.
"And those are the mares. You fill one, that's good."
He fills the glass then slides it over to you.
"You fill another, even better."
He shoves that to you as well.
You'd reach out for the third one he filled, but he picks it up before you, and starts talking without giving you a chance.
"But leave some for the rest. Aren't you a greedy cunt?"
He sends it down then fills and slides the fourth glass over while taking the fifth for himself.
"You'll get another, don't worry."
He drinks his and holds the glass up.
"But only drink once out of one of them, and when it's empty, don't be sad."
He throws the glass in a nearby sink.
His face contorts.
"Listen, you have no reason to cry, well, maybe some, but if you put your hoof into shit today maybe you'll do so into marehoods tomorrow. You know what your sorrowful tragedy is? Nothing. Zero, my friend, look around you!"
He starts raising his voice.
"If I started telling you all the stories I hear here-"
He slams the counter with a hoof.
"You'd cry yourself to bed my friend! Grown-ass stallions wail on my shoulder every single fucking day, my little friend! They come in, ask for their drinks and just go off! Telling me their meaningless histories, they bother me with their shitty meaningless stories for hours and hours on end!"
He starts motioning wildly with his hooves, almost frothing now.
"They just talk and talk and wouldn't fucking have their traps shut for just a single second! Do I need this, what do you think? Do I need it, my little friend? I don't! And you wouldn't need it either! I have my own life! I could go into another saloon to whine! And that barkeep could go into another to whine, and that barkeep would go to the next!"
He is literally shouting by this point.
"What do you think would come out of that, huh, tell me! Shitfaced drunk barkeeps would complain to each other, for fuck's sake! They'd waddle in knee-deep whining while ponykind slowly goes extinct around them! Our mares would sit home in darkened rooms and we would just fly off the fucking handle whining to each other in the shitty filthy streets. Don't whine! I fucking hate it when a stallion whines! It makes me puke! Don't whine my friend or I'll fucking vomit on you!"
He takes several deep breaths, then fills one of your glasses again.
"Want another?"


"Yes. And don't worry, I like to drink in silence."


He walks to one of the sinks, washing up some other glasses, mumbling to himself.
"Damn, that guy pissed me off."


I should get some slp, then move to where that mare told me to go.


You get a decent night of sleep, and are greeted by Loaded Barrel when you wake up.
"So… do you need any help, Ranger?"


Rub my eyes.
Damn I feel like having some whiskey.

Stretch out.
"I could use some information on the area, it's been years since I went that way."


What's keeping you from having some?

"I meant more than that. A small escort team."


The fact that my canteen is empty.
"…who did you have in mind?"


Should have gotten it refilled!

"Myself and six of my best ponies."
She flaps her ears down.
"If what you said are true… this seems pretty dangerous. I don't want you to be going alone… Ranger."


Be silent for a few seconds.
"…fine." I say in a flat voice, as if I can hardly believe me saying that.


She nods.
"That makes it easier. My soldiers and I are already packed and ready for the journey. Just say the word."


Stretch out.
"I'll be right there!"
Get a bite and fill up my canteen and let's get going.


You quickly eat some hay and fill your canteen with Whisky at the bar.
By the time you are done, you see the whole group, Loaded Barrel, as well as four more mares and two stallions, in gear fit for traversing the desert.


"Allright, what's yer names?"


Loaded Barrel has them line up, and introduces you to each and every one as she walks past them.

First is a silver coated earthie mare. She is lightly dressed and has a long barreled rifle on her side.
"Operative Long Purlieu. She is the best sharpshooter in the barracks, who will provide us with cover if neccessary."
She proceeds to a gruff looking, brown unicorn mare, her mane being a short buzzcut, while her tail is cropped short enough that it barely covers her. She has a lot of saddlebags and packs, as well as a strange gun with a wide barrel and a large cylinder.
"This is Pin, our Demolitions Expert. She can provide short and medium range explosive ordenance, tactical grenades, and given the time, she can bring down anything that stands in our way with the rest of her explosives."
The next one is a skinny pegasus stallion in a light, tight armor. He has a thin, shortsword and what appears to be a small, wing-operated crossbow.
"Recon Operative Skimpy Hop. He will scout ahead and provide intelligence for any missions we will need to undertake, and he can perform covert and stealth operations during combat situations."
Next up is a unicorn stallion, dressed in a heavy plate armor… how is he not going to bake inside that thing? His helmet has a frontal plate to shield his horn while casting, though, which seems awfully useful. His armored hooves have spiked horseshoes for weapons, but his main weapons seem a little bit odd with the armor… it's three combat shotguns.
"Close Combat Specialist Heavy Slugger. If you need a door broken down or a room secured, you will want to have him lead the way. He is also skilled at fine manipulation of his advanced telekinesis."
Next up is a unicorn mare in a chainmail armor and a sword that is full of runes.
"Spellcasting Specialist Chilling Breeze. Barrier-breaking and anti-magic are among her specialities, but she knows an array of combat spells as well."
She proceeds to the last mare, another earth pony. Her outfit looks the most standard, resembling that of Loaded Barrel, a more typical soldier outfit.
"Infantrymare Rapid Fire. Top of her class soldier, who refused special operations training, yet remained versitale in all aspects of combat."

Once she is done they all salute you.


I forgot where I needed to go to.
Some kind of town where these bullets come from righT?


Must be all the whiskey.
You vaguely recall an important junction town taken by the Blood Riders that might need some good old fashioned law-bringing.



Salute them.
"Gentleponies, let's go."


You all head out.
Skip some or talk to some?


Skip and let's get to town


You spend a day walking the desert, but passing all the landmarks around here is nothing new for you.
You notice that the mare called Pin talks with a strange lisp while the sharpshooter has a prench accent.
When night starts to fall, Loaded Barrel orders everyone to set up camp.


Time to trot around and secure the perimeter.


You see Skimpy Hop, the scout do the same.
Pin seems to be taking care of the fire while the rest take care of the bedrolls and such.

Except for the unicorn mare, who walks around in a large circle around all of you, chanting with closed eyes.


Look at Loaded.
"What's up with her?"


She looks at her, then back at you.
"Defensive perimeter spells. It's nothing to take for granted, but it will warn us is anypony is approaching, and it will also make it so that the light of our camp cannot be seen from the outside."


Look back at Loaded.
"I don't like all this fancy magic doohickey."


She approaches the campfire and sits down.
"Me neither, but what can we do?"
You see the pony in the giant armor take off his helmet, revealing his medium sized ponytail mane. He looks… way too young, barely even 19, if even that.


"What's with the colt?"


"Hey now, I can hear you, I'm right here!"
Loaded chuckles.
"Top of his class. He beat most records of the training courses. Still nothing that comes close to Ranger training, but believe me, he is quite fit to be here."


"I know!"
Turn to Loaded.
"We'll see."


She nods.
"I believe in all of them. I hope you will too, once you see them in action."


"I'm not used to working in team."


"I know. But we won't be all barging up as a big group to wherever we go. We will all have our places."


"How much experience do all of you have with raiders?"


The sharpshooter and demolitions expert both nod.
"More than I want to admit."


Nod to them. "good, we'll need it."


The sharpshooter looks at Pin and starts laughing.
"Just don't blow the same-"
She interrupts him.
"Oh, Fuhck off!"
She seems a bit mad, but you can see she is smiling under her scowl.


Pls no.
"Just keep your heads on our task ahead. Our enemy won't fuck around."


"Don't worry, neither will we."


Time to go to bed, so I can be fresh and early for tomorrow


You retire to sleep.
In the morning you take only a few minutes to get ready, just like the others.

Loaded motions you over to a map she is looking over.


I bet she needs some directions.
Mares can't read maps!


Well, maybe military mares can.
She points at a nearby settlement, rather large one, on the map.
"I had an idea. Skimpy Hop can scout ahead on the planned route, while Pin, Purlieu and Rapid Fire follow him, but Heavy, Chilling, you and I go to this town, those two pack up some additional supplies, while we try to recruit some more help. Supposedly, they have a Ranger living there."


Do I know who?


>Do I know who that ranger is


Tough Nails, an old stallion, one of the three Major Rangers who helped train you when you first applied.


"I know him, he'll help us out."


"Good, shall we go then?"


Let's go.


The scouting force spilts off from you and the four of you start heading towards the town in the early morning.
As you approach, you can see a blanket of dark stormclouds over the city. The mage interjects.
"Huh. That's weird. Why don't they get their weatherponies to clean that up?"
"Maybe they had a drought recently."


Have I ever seen shit like that before?


It looks a bit more like rogue weather from the Badlands than one that was crafted by pegasi.


"Maybe their weatherponies are incapacitated…"


"We can ask once we are there."
As you approach the city limits, Loaded stops.
"Allright. You and Chilling check ask around with the Sheriff, we go and ask the mayor and get some supplies."


"Keep your eyes on the sky."
Let's go to the mayor.


Okaay, to the Sheriff


Loaded and Heavy head off further into the settlement.
You and the unicorn mare trudge along, the mud splashing under your hooves as a cold rain showers you both.
No ponies outside, but that's no wonder in a weather like this.

You arrive at the Sheriff office in a few minutes… weird. The door seems to be broken.


Grab my gun and look at the unicorn.


The magic of her horn flares up and she nods.
You might have to force the door to enter.


Push the door open.
What sight do I see?


It is jammed from the other side, probably barred with a filing cabinet.


"Can you open the door with magic?"


You see her focus her telekinesis around it.
After a few seconds she stops.
"No. But me blasting it open with magic could work."


"Hmmm, it might be a crime zone in there. Let's see if there's another way in before we blast things."
Look in a window


The windows are all barred, as a safety measure that all Sheriff offices have.
You try to peek in, but looks like things have been put in front of it to block the window just like with the door.
You can only see a faint light through the cracks.


Look around if there's someplace I can see through, maybe even a crack in the wooden walls '1d10'

Roll #1 4 = 4


Seems like the place is secured like the backside of a nun - you can only get in with force.


Go back to unicorn.
"Let's do it."


She nods and waits for you to assume a position where you can quickly get in with your gun raised.
She focuses her magic in a powerful blast and the door flies inside.
A loud, whining magical siren sounds up from the inside.


Step inside, gun at the ready


The siren keeps blaring.
There is a dead deputy mare lying in her own blood on the ground, shot in the back of the head.
A scrawly stallion runs out from the back room. He seems to be wearing Sheriff clothes.
"What did you do! What the fuck did you do!"


"I should ask you the same thing!"


The mare enters behind you.
The stallion quickly rushes to turn off the obnoxious sound.
"Hiding! What else would I be doing! I didn't expect somepony to use magic on the fucking door! Now that went up and you'll draw them here from all over this part of town!"


"Who killed this mare?" hold the gun ready.
"Chilling, look outside, is anypony coming, look in the air too."


She steps outside.
"I did! It was in self-defense! She was going to kill me otherwise!"
He seems panicked.
The mare slowly backs up inside.
"He is right. We've got company. Undead."

"Goddess, Goddess… we are fucking dead…."


Perk my ears.
I need an axe for this.
"How many?!?"


You've been trained for this too.
There is no creature in this desert you cannot kill.
"Too many."
"And now we don't have a door! And we are cornered!…. well, there might be a way out!"


"I need it quick. Get back in, Chilling!"


She steps back, firing a block of ice magic from her horn at the door.
"This won't hold them for long, but it might give us some time."
The stallion runs into a back room.
"Come on then, help me! Quick!"


"Go first, Chilling!"
Fire a few shots at the monsters.


She runs into the back room. You hear the moving of furniture and a trap door opening.


Throw the cabinet in front of the door if I can, then go in the back room.


It has been blasted to the other side of the room with the door.
You see a trap door leading to some sort of tunnel.
The stallion already went down.
Chilling casts her ice magic again on the door behind you.
"Come on, move!"
But even as she says that, you hear it shatter and the undead moan!


Jump down '1d10'

Roll #1 9 = 9


You jump down and roll.
The stallion is already waaay ahead.
"Come on, move move move move move!"
You hear the sound of a struggle from above, and see Chilling fall down, landing poorly on one of her hindlegs.
"Aaah… damnit…"
She picks herself up with a bad limp.


"Get on my back and get ready to fire ice"
Get her up my back and start running! '1d10'

Roll #1 3 = 3


"I'm fine, move!"
She limps behind you.
The undead start dropping down in troves, you already count six…
You take potshots back as you run, slowing some of them down.
Chilling does the same with spears of ice, many of them missing due to the innacuracy of shooting backwards while running with a limp.


Fucking stupid slut.
Fire at the zombies
Marksman Shot '1d10+3'

Roll #1 6 + 3 = 9


You kill one, the corpse making more of them stumble.
"Go on, I'll be fine!"
The unicorn shoves you forward with Telekinesis, then turns around.
There is a blinding light of blue behind you, then silence.
Everything behind you is now covered in a huge, thick block of ice… probably with her trapped in there too.
The stallion sighs.
"Well, she could have just done that earlier! She was probably a goner with that leg anyway! Now let's move!"
Quite the cowardly attitude for a Sheriff.


Stupid mare.
I can't go through that ice.
"You stop! You're going to tell me right now what's going on!"


He stops and turns around.
"Two days ago, this storm rolled in… and with it, came some sort of freight train. It had all kinds of monsters in them, and they turned everyone into other monsters! So, yeah, nothing to do here but to leave!"


"Why were you still here then? don't you need to check for other survivors? Where's the mayor?


"…I-I don't know! I had like three deputies! I never had to do anything! When it all went down, I just thought I'd hide out until this all blows over!"


"Which way to the town hall?"


He shakes his head.
"Oh, no, no no no! That's a bad idea! You don't want to go anywhere near that place!"




He flattens his ears and steps back.
"Y-You don't understand! It was one of the first places these monster-things captured! If you want to die at least do it methodically! Scout out the area if we can even get anywhere near!"


"We? You're staying right here!"
Time to go scout.


"W-What? You ruined my hideout and you're just going to leave me here? No!"
He follows behind. The tunnel goes on for a while before you see a ladder up to a hatch.


What a whiner.
Well he can just follow me if he doesn't make noise.
Climb up that stairs and take a peek out the hatch


It looks dark. The inside of some sort of granary or barn, full of hay and other foodstuff.
You hear the slow tick-tock of rain on the roof above.
He whispers.
"We're near the edge of the town now…"


Don't answer him.
At least we won't die of starvation.
Get out and look for a window


Barns don't have windows.
You could sneakily open the door and peek out though.


They have openings.

Then look outside


At any rate, this barn seems somewhat secluded from the rest of the town. You do see a few houses nearby. There is a cart in front of one of them, which looks like a Saloon. Barrels have been spilled from the cart to the streets. You don't see any undead.


"Which way to the mayor's office?"


He walks up behind you.
"It's across the whole town…"


"In times like these I wish I had wings."


"I wish my deputies were still alive…"


I wish you had died with them


Time to snek to the saloon '1d10'

Roll #1 2 = 2


Despite your best efforts, you can't silence the splashing of the small puddles under your hoof, the rain from the dark clouds above relentlessly beating down on you.

You manage to hide behind some spilled barrels, but you notice three undead zombies on the street. They haven't seen you yet, but they are alarmed by the noise.
The other stallion trails you like a shadow.


Check for a sneaky passage '1d10'

Roll #1 1 = 1


You can't see any… you'll have to take them down. You could take one out silently with the element of surprise…

All three zombies turn away from you to the sound of gunfire nearby.


Can I see who's firing?


No. It comes from a street or two down.


If they're distracted, I can sneakily follow them '1d10'

Roll #1 10 = 10


You start tailing them slowly.
Even the coward is behind them closely, a small knife at the ready. You can effortlessly take one of them down and he'll probably get the other, so you'd only have to worry about the third.

You soon see who was shooting. It is a middle aged stallion beating a zombie to pulp with the butt of his gun. On the other side of the road there is a mare with a giant claymore, fighting off another two undead.


Uh…those are my guys right?


Nope. They seem to be from this town.


Kill those 2 zombies and prepare to fight the third


You takedown one of the zombies while the sheriff shanks the other in the back of the head, driving it to the ground.
The third one turns around with a snarl, but its brains splatter all over the ground, coming from the stallion who was fighting on the other side of the street just now.
The moment you'd turn to thank him there is a flurry of shots, wounding his flank and making him collapse in pain.

The mare cries out a worried "Dad!" but is still too busy fighting the last zombie.

The sheriff sees it before you, starting to panic.
"What are those, WHAT THE FUCK ARE THOSE?!"

Three more undead, all coming out from the alley near the stallion that just got shot. It's nothing you've ever seen in your life.

Leading them is a huge diamond dog, one of the paws hacked off and replaced with a row of sharp blades.
All across his chest and abdomen are thick metal plates, driven into the body with large nail and hooks.

Beside it is the… thing that was firing. You have seen an Orthrus before, a large bodied, two-headed dog… but this one is different. And it is not the snarl, but what has been done to it. There is a large, multi-barreled rifle, one you've seen attached to carts, while the entire left side of it is open, his guts removed, replaced by some intricate machinery that keeps the gun working.

Last is a bloated equine form, carrying a large vat of green goop on its back, the head chopped off, replaced by a giant, bloody needle coming out of the neck.

Whatever necromantic technomagicians made these things, you really want to kill them.

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