Fallout Equestria: Ebon King of the North

Dalek Ix · Jun 5, 2024

[THE OFFICER]

With tensions having dropped and nopony pointing guns around, I step further into the warehouse, some distance away from the fire Dawn and the others have gathered around.

I lie down, and watch the hopefully-a-doctor approach. The wing armour unlocks itself, and then another bolt of pain goes down my spine when that makes it move.

Asmodemus said:
"Ah usually use my own supply, but I assume you'd prefer what drugs you brought with you, so those it'll be." The doctor said, tone serious as he acknowledged his patient's preferences, rising from his easy crouched position to a stand before he walked along the catwalks, fast but not rushing as he moved from where he was to another spot, then taking a short leap down to another position, moving along a circuitous route that made any particularly observant kirins there realize that there was little to no way he snuck up there during the storm, unless he was invisible, a few creaks and sounds along the way coming from the terrain.

"Ah'm assuming fall damage, maybe tearing from travel with it, any other complications? Get burnt? Vision blurry?" His voice was very serious as he addressed the mare, targeting potential issues as he neared, quickly levitating his bags up, doing some sorting to put drugs away with his pistol, all shown and seen and slid them back, coming closer with just his tools and questioning her where the tanks were, putting years of medical training and practice into work fluidly. He might have been joking earlier, but Sawbone Sid was a Scorched and he knew what he was doing.

I almost quip that my meds aren't irradiated or poisoned or expired, but I choose to keep my muzzle shut. In fact, the less I tell these... ponies about the Enclave and me, the better.

The doctor arrives and, lo and behold, he does seem to know what he's doing! I point out where the damaged autodoc is, and do my best to lie still. It's still amazingly painful, and every so often a hiss of pain escapes from my helmet speakers, but when he offers Med-X or painkillers, my answer is no.

The Fourth Monado said:
Dawn tilted his head in response to the armored mare's words. So she was from whatever'd been falling - a 'cloudship'? It really had been a bad omen. Like some cursed star falling from heaven, heralding this bitch's arrival and added complexity. That being said, he wouldn't directly disagree with a heavily armed mare. "Of course. It will be as if we never had met," He promised, moving around her as the Scorched - who definitely had to have been in here before they'd arrived - approached. That was definitely one of the interactions of all time! Could have definitely gone worse. Now, to ensure things didn't devolve thanks to some of the hotheads on his side.

"... Good."

I want to leave it at that. Just lie here in the corner while the doctor works, wait for the rain to pass, and then leave. Leave them, leave this place, look for my ponies, complete the bucking mission, and then-

I stop myself. My mind desperately grasps for anything else I can focus on, and it settles on Dawn and his group, resting around the strangely-colored arcane fire they must've made. The foals are all huddled around the older muties... muties which are really just barely out of foalhood themselves.

Suddenly, I wonder what anyone else would've done here, and the image of Soft Feather fussing over the foals just... comes to me, sharp and clear.

... Buck me.

"For what it's worth, I... have no intention of harming any of you," I tell them. "I also... suggest that you avoid the crash site, when you leave. And if you find somepony else with armour like mine..." A pause, and the smiling face of a certain Colonel comes to me, almost against my will. I swallow.

"Do not approach them."

"I really wish they'd stop using that word," Muttered one of the other Kirins as Dawn got back over to the fire, and Dawn shot him a look.

"Let it go. It's not worth starting a conflict over," He quietly stated, sitting down near the kids as Spring lowered her barrier. "There's no shooting happening, and that's all that matters."

A snort almost escapes me.

"The background radiation in the Wasteland is high enough to induce irreversible DNA changes during gestation," I note, "Everypony born down here is a mutant, no matter what they look like."

Sablonus said:
The corpse bobbed in silent mirth. Of their gathered few, he was probably the only one who'd seen what things had mutated from. Well, he probably had. Hadn't she just called the colt a mutie too, though? Unfair. Only he was allowed to be a hypocrite. "Our androgyne seems a misfire away from smelling like surf and turf.." He muttered. "An' them horns look more like a big, red-"

... Well, now that you mention it-

Morning. NO

Sablonus said:
The skull glanced aside, catching sight of the filly who'd filled their visitor in on the wastes' post mortem. He doffed his cap, grinning her way before turning to the leader of the young. "Don't suppose your seniors just all went out foraging to give you some time with your girlfriend?" The baritone wheezed amusedly, head flicking in Golden Gear's direction.

triumph8w said:
Golden blinked rapidly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks as she hunched down slightly. "I'm not- You- We don't even know each other!"

Golden Gears scuffed a hoof on the wooden floor, turning away from the entrance. Really, he goes from having genuine plasma weaponry pointed at his face and he's still throwing around barbs?

"Not like the community rules would even allow it…" She muttered to herself.

This time I do let out a snort of amusement at the sight of Golden Gears blushing like mad. I manage to hold back on a giggle --I have a sneaking suspicion that part of me being safe in here rests on being intimidating.

And then the suit's audio sensors catch that last bit that Golden says, too low to be heard by anypony else.

I blink. I carefully think about what's being implied by that, and blink again.

"... You have a quota too!?" I blurt out.

Sablonus said:
He glanced back, where rain lashed at the wastes beyond. "Seems you two've got plenty of time to change that- Just make sure the foals don't peek."

The skull's expression hadn't changed, but the shit-eating aura was palpable. It was like she said- They'd be here for a bit.

I glance between the still-scandalized Golden Gears, Bitterbriar's shit-eating corspe-grin, and Dawn's face.

(The more I look at him the more I realize that the... ghoul had been right to call him androgyne. If not for his voice I'd think he was a mare! He's also... uh. Hm. Hmmm... STOP IT BRAIN)

"While I am no stranger to ponies canoodling while I pretend not to notice," I drawl, "I'm gonna say no to that."

The Fourth Monado said:
Then the ghoul threw a crack at him, and yep - there's the anger again. But it is easily squashed, as Dawn placidly looks over at the ghoul. "Nope. Red-Eyes's forces launched a raid - scattered the tribe to the four winds," he simply replied. "We're taking the little ones to a safe pre-determined meeting spot a bit to the north, and wait for everyone else to regroup."

He doubted he'd have to explain Red-Eyes to anyone here - except, maybe, Morning Mist. And, honestly, he really didn't want to. Talking about Red-Eyes... brought up too many bad memories. He wasn't sure he'd be able to remain in control if the conversation went there.

And, just like that, the atmosphere darkens at the mention of this "Red-Eye". My ears, however, perk up, because this sounds like information.

triumph8w said:
Oh.

Dawn Blazes words washed over her while she sulked in the corner. She'd heard about this Red-Eye on the radio, and from any friendly travelers—usually traders. The council had tried to prepare the expeditions as best they could, but it was rare for anyone to actually enter Vanhoover, making it difficult to get concrete information on the wider wasteland.

Red-Eye was bad news. And these kids were running from him.

And they let her in.

"I'm…sorry to hear that," Golden Gears said softly. She couldn't offer up much else at this point.

Actually…

"If you guys have any equipment that needs a tune-up, I can take a look at it. Looks like we'll be here for a bit anyways."

Unfortunately, not much information is actually said. Apparently this "Red-Eye" is infamous enough down here that nopony needs to be told what they're talking about. No gathering information that way, then. Sigh.

Almost at once, my disappointment turns to frustration. There's some barbarian slaver king infamous enough that everypony here knows who he is. Meanwhile, I, an officer of the Grand Pegasus Enclave, do not, because some bucking featherless bastard in Intelligence who will never, ever, so much as poke their bucking head under the cloud layer, decided that I shouldn't. Oh, and they absolutely know he exists; there's no way in Tartarus that they don't! There's nowhere anypony can hide from us because all we need to do is look down!!

My tail flicks against the ground in annoyance, and my non-broken wing flares before I tuck it back against my body. My frustration feels like it's about to boil over and I just want to...!

... Wait. Maybe...?

I try not to squirm. On one hoof... well, it's not like anyone here could ring up a morale officer, hm? On the other, they're all muties, disclosing anything about the Enclave is treason, and-

Asmodemus said:
"Sad stuff. Hope as many of your folks got away fine as they could." Offered Sawbone Sid who had never given his name yet as he worked, attention not truly wavering as his energy field displayed as it went about it's business. "Once mah patient here's all patched up and vanishes away to her sneaky group, whoever they are, ah'm headed to chase the rumors of a new kingdom up north, see if a trained doc can help em out if they've not yet learned what's up with the Wasteland. Share survival tips and whatnot. Try to get the Scorched welcomed there.

Was gonna introduce myself once I saw you welcome in the adorahable filly there." His head bobbed towards the earth pony mare in the room. "Before that, planned to when the rain stopped so running away wasn't as big an issue. Can't be too careful in the wasteland. And ought to check the high ups of places you're bunking in, never know when there might be bats roosting or the like." He gave some friendly advice to the Kirin in a mix of experienced survivalist and mirthful humor.

Sablonus said:
Thankfully, the ghoul seemed content to let mention of Red Eye pass without comment- Or maybe it just didn't register. "North..?" He snorted.

Their talk of the meeting spot though.. "Good luck with that! Every pony this end of the wastes is making a break the same direction- And even if it weren't a raider's smorgasbord, I'd eat my hat if the movers and shakers weren't trying to get their hooves in this crystal pie too."

And then the wasteland doctor just... casually mentions a whole bucking kingdom showing up here out of bucking nowhere, and something inside me snaps, because on one wing, I'm frustrated, angry, and if I don't tell this to something I'll go insane.

"Let me guess: Red-Eye is some... barbaric slaver king with such a massive a capacity for gratuitous violence and brutality that he might as well be the second coming of Tirek, and he's also got enough psychopaths working for him that everypony between Applewood and Manehattan knows who he is, and if you don't it's because either you and the last five generations of your family have been living under a rock this whole time, or it's because the rads have completely melted your brain. How close am I?"

I pause just long enough for what I said to sink in. Then I... continue.

"Information on the Wasteland is classified and only given on a Need-To-Know basis. For Operational Security." I spit that term like it's a curse. "And apparently somepony decided that I don't need to know about the bucking supervillain rampaging around the wasteland. Or about the bucking Anti-Cloudship battery that just bucking killed ponies I swore to lead! Or that an entire bucking kingdom just showed up in our AO! Or-!"

I pound one power-armoured hoof against the floor. I'm breathing hard.

"... Sorry. Golden, if you can fix the autodoc once the... doctor is done... I'd appreciate it, but I don't know how I'd pay you back for it."

Asmodemus · Jun 5, 2024

Dalek Ix said:
"The background radiation in the Wasteland is high enough to induce irreversible DNA changes during gestation," I note, "Everypony born down here is a mutant, no matter what they look like."

Ternox quirks his brow at 'down here' beneath his mask but given the mare's focus on secrecy and their tendency to shove plasma guns at him, wisely didn't prod it. "If everypony's a mutant then is anypony really a mutant? I woulda spoke up earlier, iffen a gun hadn't been aimed at me, but Kirin are a race from before the big booms, they're supposed tah look like that. Not too familiar with them though, rare folk. S'why I didn't plan tah poke my head out till she showed up." A gesture towards Golden at that. "At least, not before the storm ended."

Dalek Ix said:
"Let me guess: Red-Eye is some... barbaric slaver king with such a massive a capacity for gratuitous violence and brutality that he might as well be the second coming of Tirek, and he's also ammased enough of a power base that everypony between Applewood and Manehattan knows who he is, and if you don't it's because either you and the last five generations of your family have been living under a rock this whole time, or it's because the rads have completely melted your brain. How close am I?"

"Who the buck's Tirek?"

Dalek Ix said:
"Information on the Wasteland is classified and only given on a Need-To-Know basis. For Operational Security." I spit that term like it's a curse. "And apparently somepony decided that I don't need to know about the bucking supervillain rampaging around the wasteland. Or about the bucking Anti-Cloudship battery that just bucking killed ponies I swore to lead! Or that an entire bucking kingdom just showed up in our AO! Or-!"

Ah, things were rather more serious now. "...Ah've got no idea what 'battery' you're talking about, but sounds like your group's hiding up in some mountains somewhere, and they've either missed some stuff or played you dirty keeping things from ya. Ah'm sorry your folk ran into something like that, no idea who had it or why. Sounds like some very heavy firepower and few groups got that.

The Scorched are spread out across the wastelands, helping folks, and I've done a fair bit of traveling myself. If you want a rundown on things, I'm happy tah educate a fellow pony in the wastes on what could help em. We all gotta look out for each other what's reasonable, else the unreasonable will gnaw our bones after all." He'd be capable of describing commonly known groups and powerful forces easy enough after all. (as a player, I can't do this fully IC cause I'm not super familiar)

triumph8w · Jun 5, 2024

Dalek Ix said:
This time I do let out a snort of amusement at the sight of Golden Gears blushing like mad. I manage to hold back on a giggle --I have a sneaking suspicion that part of me being safe in here rests on being intimidating.

And then the suit's audio sensors catch that last bit that Golden says, too low to be heard by anypony else.

I blink. I carefully think about what's being implied by that, and blink again.

"... You have a quota too!?" I blurt out.

Golden Gears blinked. She caught that?

"...yes?" Golden said slowly, carefully. Trying to push away any remaining irritation over Bitterbrair's comment. "Or, well, we've got strict rules on relationships back home. Some ponies don't like it—pretty sure people have been arguing about it for…well, a while. Resources are important back home. Not much room for slip-ups."

Personally, she didn't really like the rule. It was archaic thinking, spawned in the days when ponies were huddled in a bunker that was overcapacity while the world ended above them. It took a few decades after the bunker opened its doors again, but they reclaimed the whole building—there was a good amount of room. And sure, they had to be a little careful about sifting the gene-pool, but still.

Dalek Ix said:
I pound one power-armoured hoof against the floor. I'm breathing hard.

"... Sorry. Golden, if you can fix the autodoc once the... doctor is done... I'd appreciate it, but I don't know how I'd pay you back for it."

So that whole 'crashing through the clouds' thing wasn't just a fluke of a flight plan after all.

Guess they didn't want anyone to see that they still had working aircraft. Clever to use the cloud covering to cover their tracks. Hiding out on one of the islands? She knew there were some north of Vanhoover, thanks to the old maps. But they probably weren't there. Maybe. Plenty in the Lunar and Celestial oceans, too. Some pre-war military unit that survived the Last Day, weathered out the after effects and just kept an eye on the mainland? Or just, like, some ridiculously overengineered Stable.

Or it could just be what the doctor said.

"I could take a look!" Golden Gears said with a smile, ears flicking from the sound of a power armored hoof meeting the wooden floor. Autodocs were such fascinating pieces of technology. Really, a high point of pre-war engineering. Safe, quick, efficient. You take care of an autodoc, and it would take good care of you.

"Besides, I don't really need caps or anything. Not right now, though it would probably–right, um. I'm actually looking for something important. A Type-4 magical generator, or something like it. Usually used for important installations of the pre-war government, like the old Ministry buildings. In this case, a regional hub for the Ministry of Wartime Technology. I doubt you have one on hoof or anything, but any information could be helpful!"

Golden Gears paused for a beat.

"Ah. It's not conditional for my assistance, either. I'll help either way."

Behind her, Buddy's head slowly scanned the room with all the steady deliberateness of a fan

"Veterans. Receive a. Five percent discount!"

Asmodemus · Jun 6, 2024

"Hmm. Well, with the stable dweller, or similar, here, suppose I might as well sum things up for their sake too." Sawbone Sid said, pointing Golden's way.

"The biggest group are the most scattered and individual, yer fellow Wastelanders. Might feel like the Raiders outnumber them, but that's cause most folk keep to themselves, avoid attention. Folks just roaming around, trying to find sustenance, avoiding fights. Folks that decided 'here's ah good spot, let's make summin' and make a farm or shack or a whole durn settlement. Folks that bunk up near the big groups and do their basics for em, maybe wear their colors if they're feeling like it. Folks that are part of tribes, hooting and hollering and making a fuss, living off the land and ignoring machinery as much as they can.

Yessir, most ponies are just.. ponies, lookin to get by.

The second biggest probably are all the scattered raiders, ponies what don't want to just settle down, ever, that don't want to poke and prod and get what they can. They'd rather slap it out of other ponies' hooves and take it. Or take said pony. Most don't hail to one flag, wanting to be all fierce and independent and they fight each other as much as they do Wastelanders, though they might feel like they're all one banner sumtimes.

There's also the Stable Dwellers, folks what got put into the protective underground buildings. Or otherwise got themselves a sweet similar place. Most live the high life and avoid thinking about the Wasteland, but sometimes one opens up, sometimes it's cause things went wrong, sometimes it's cause they get all murdered.. but sometimes it's cause ponies inside had a heart and wanted to help. Generally the ones that come out on their own are a bit naive, unfamiliar with things, with more open hearts. We Scorched try to teach em what's what before they get kilt if we cross paths.

Ghouls, the undead came with the bombs. Some folks think they're clusters of dark magic, haunted corpses just filled with evil. Personally, I find a good few ghouls are just ponies what got holes in em. Generally, if a ghoul talks to ya, there's an 85% chance it ain't gonna try to eat ya. That's a good bit better than if a pony talks to ya with the raiders and all.

Gryphons are around, bird folk with beaks and claws like lions, fierce fighters, generally mercenaries out to get hired and don't give a second thought about anything else but money. But, they're folk like any other, sometimes you hear of friendly ones.. or ones that operate more like raiders, eat ponies. It varies.

Here and there you can see some zebras. Their own lands got busted up like Equestria back in the day, and some came here. Folk generally hate em, despise em, blame em for everything wrong now. ..We Scorched, we don't judge, we just patch ponies up what need it. If that pony has stripes.. well, that's none of our business." Sawbone Sid shrugged and looked aside at that before turning his head to look at Morning, cautious in his next words.

"Then there's.. pegasi. They're pretty rare. Which a lot of ponies find odd when they think about it. Given that a third of all ponies back in the day, were pegasi. Most pegasi ya find now.. have a brand on em. Of Rainbow Dash's cutie mark. They don't like to talk about it. So most ponies generally accept that there's a pegasus group. What brands em. And is up above the clouds up there. And given the way pegasi don't talk about em.. They probably ain't very nice. So most ponies don't talk about them either." His voice was clipped as he talked, giving the barebones facts as the average Wastelander knows them before moving on quickly.

"But there's more specific groups to be aware of.

Similar to the Stable Dwellers, there's Tenpony Tower, most well known settlement around still. Cause they got the DJ living with them, DJ Pon3. He spreads news, keeps everyone with a radio aware of the big events happening and encourages ponies to do the right thing, plays nice music too. Some folk say he's some snooty holier than thou type talking down to Wastelanders from his ivory tower, but a lot feel like he's the real deal, empathizes even if he's not out there struggling. Judge for yourself. Everypony else there is super snooty types, hate ghouls, and the rest of us are just riffraff to them, less we come with caps.

There's the remains of the Ministries, they ain't generally got ponies actually part of them these days, cept a few mad colts and fillies, but they got most of the tech to salvage and bots in em. Lucrative, dangerous, responsible for the annoying sprite-bots wandering around playing that Celestiaawful music that shoot back if you try en quiet em.

Another group's the Steel Rangers. They talk a pretty game about how they're 'protecting the Wasteland from technology', but they're the sorts what you don't want to meet, if you got anything more complicated than a laser pistol and even that's fifty fifty. They want everything fancy, and they want it to themselves. Word is they wreck Stables and take the bits and bobs, and kill everypony inside. Or turn them out ta fend for themselves. Stories vary.

Then there's Red Eye's group. Biggest band of slavers and raiders around. Actually trying ta put all the raiders under one banner. Along with everypony else in chains. His group's over by Fillydelphia, making his own kingdom off the backs of others. Got some big fortress of doom over in Everfree Forest, which nopony's going over with how bad that place is. He's got the expected thugs, he's got slaves, but he's also got a lot of gryphons, actual fighters under his banner. And he's got.. well..

Alicorns. Not Celestia. Not Luna. They're dangerous. Very dangerous. You see a alicorn, hide 'n run, or keep your nose to the ground, give em whatever they want. They're mad, look down on everypony else, use 'We' a lot, supposed to be royal speaking ah hear. Doesn't seem like all of them are with Red Eye I hear, rumor at least. Some say they're invincible, some say you'd need power armor to fight em. Same difference for most Wastelanders.

Then there's creatures, but mah throat's getting sore. So, another time."

Cyreni · Jun 6, 2024

@triumph8w, @Asmodemus, @Dalek Ix, @Sablonus, @The Fourth Monado

Morning's reserve of healing potion in her autodoc was enough for a full recovery. Sawbone removed the dented armor piece for Golden, ensured the wound was clean, and that the wing wouldn't heal incorrectly before administering it.

The pain simply melted away as the wound knitted itself shut. A tender extension of her wing prompted the thought it might hurt, but nothing came of it. The injury might as well have never happened. A couple laps around the ceiling solidified the idea.

For Golden, Morning's armor had been exposed to severe blunt damage on one side, primarily the wing. There wasn't too much to be done for the solid parts without a workshop, especially the thinner wing cover which had suffered the worst, but the underlying systems could be repaired.

The rain continued to pound. Storms in the wasteland could potentially last for over a day, and with no sign of stopping the group prepared to settle in for a longer haul. Sawbone inspected everyone else: fatigue was a universal diagnosis for everyone *besides* Morning. Minor cuts, scrapes, and aches from constantly wandering. Low levels of radiation doses that didn't yet warrant using limited supplies to purge it. Golden was the worst off, while she barely had any radiation exposure, her cold travels and monstrous run-ins had nipped at her extremities, and she lacked the medical supplies necessary to patch herself up.

Bitterbriar was the exception to most of this. He thrived in the toxic conditions. He was also in need of help far beyond anything that could be provided here- the most that could be done was stitching some relatively minor wounds up for his natural healing to finish the process.

Hell arrived with brutal coordination as soon as the rain went from torrential to merely heavy. A gunshot sounded somewhere in the distance, and immediately Spring Embers screamed in pain by the window as it shattered inwards, falling over and clutching his shoulder. With eyes now on him, the rear of the building exploded and a volley of ill-aimed gunfire entered, hitting crates, the walls, the floor, and only occasionally an actual person. It took one lucky shot for another of the kirin adults to go down, her scales turning a fatal blow into a crippling one that would end her in a minute. A foal screamed and covered a bleeding head.

In the next second, grenades were skipped across the floor.

Asmodemus · Jun 6, 2024

Cyreni said:
The rain continued to pound. Storms in the wasteland could potentially last for over a day, and with no sign of stopping the group prepared to settle in for a longer haul. Sawbone inspected everyone else: fatigue was a universal diagnosis for everyone *besides* Morning. Minor cuts, scrapes, and aches from constantly wandering. Low levels of radiation doses that didn't yet warrant using limited supplies to purge it. Golden was the worst off, while she barely had any radiation exposure, her cold travels and monstrous run-ins had nipped at her extremities, and she lacked the medical supplies necessary to patch herself up.

Luckily, while rads were more demanding in what could fix them up, healing the body was easier, particularly if you didn't mind a few rads along the way but thanks to his skill in gathering and mixing, Sawbone Sid didn't need to rely on rad inducing healing yet, instead handing out various things to chug or rub on their hides, giving instructions out. "It ain't healing potions, but it'll do for your aches and cuts, en it don't cost half a leg to heal a quarter."

Cyreni said:
Bitterbriar was the exception to most of this. He thrived in the toxic conditions. He was also in need of help far beyond anything that could be provided here- the most that could be done was stitching some relatively minor wounds up for his natural healing to finish the process.

Sid focused the majority of his attention on the ghoul when he was doing the round, energy field applying precise stitching. "Ah've treated ghouls before, just need a proper cleaning after of the tools. Yer in need of a lot more help, proper medical facilities ta get ya back to tip top, but I kin tie ya back together a bit, let your healing fix ya up."

Cyreni said:
Hell arrived with brutal coordination as soon as the rain went from torrential to merely heavy. A gunshot sounded somewhere in the distance, and immediately Spring Embers screamed in pain by the window as it shattered inwards, falling over and clutching his shoulder. With eyes now on him, the rear of the building exploded and a volley of ill-aimed gunfire entered, hitting crates, the walls, the floor, and only occasionally an actual person. It took one lucky shot for another of the kirin adults to go down, her scales turning a fatal blow into a crippling one that would end her in a minute. A foal screamed and covered a bleeding head.

Ternox was very surprised by the ambush, it seemed someone had a hunting rifle or sniper and the band was outside his ability to feel their emotions about this raid, in hindsight he'd call it unfortunate, in the moment he'd call it 'BUCKING HELL!' mentally. Moving towards more reinforced area as he could, going dead silent, he analyzed the situation and when one kirin went down he started to form a energy field to stabilize so he could apply some quick meds to keep her alive, the foal screaming showing they had life left and thus further down in priority.

Cyreni said:
In the next second, grenades were skipped across the floor.

Only to quickly refocus onto grenades, intent on tossing back out, without care for how far beyond 'outside', changing target if the unicorn ghoul grabbed the same one.

Get grenades out, start stabilizing patients, triage, fetch out needler pistol and fire a paralyzing dart if any of what was likely raiders popped in for melee, avoid becoming a casualty himself. Priorities.

triumph8w · Jun 6, 2024

Cyreni said:
@triumph8w, @Asmodemus, @Dalek Ix, @Sablonus, @The Fourth Monado

Morning's reserve of healing potion in her autodoc was enough for a full recovery. Sawbone removed the dented armor piece for Golden, ensured the wound was clean, and that the wing wouldn't heal incorrectly before administering it.

The pain simply melted away as the wound knitted itself shut. A tender extension of her wing prompted the thought it might hurt, but nothing came of it. The injury might as well have never happened. A couple laps around the ceiling solidified the idea.

For Golden, Morning's armor had been exposed to severe blunt damage on one side, primarily the wing. There wasn't too much to be done for the solid parts without a workshop, especially the thinner wing cover which had suffered the worst, but the underlying systems could be repaired.

The rain continued to pound. Storms in the wasteland could potentially last for over a day, and with no sign of stopping the group prepared to settle in for a longer haul. Sawbone inspected everyone else: fatigue was a universal diagnosis for everyone *besides* Morning. Minor cuts, scrapes, and aches from constantly wandering. Low levels of radiation doses that didn't yet warrant using limited supplies to purge it. Golden was the worst off, while she barely had any radiation exposure, her cold travels and monstrous run-ins had nipped at her extremities, and she lacked the medical supplies necessary to patch herself up.

Bitterbriar was the exception to most of this. He thrived in the toxic conditions. He was also in need of help far beyond anything that could be provided here- the most that could be done was stitching some relatively minor wounds up for his natural healing to finish the process.

Hell arrived with brutal coordination as soon as the rain went from torrential to merely heavy. A gunshot sounded somewhere in the distance, and immediately Spring Embers screamed in pain by the window as it shattered inwards, falling over and clutching his shoulder. With eyes now on him, the rear of the building exploded and a volley of ill-aimed gunfire entered, hitting crates, the walls, the floor, and only occasionally an actual person. It took one lucky shot for another of the kirin adults to go down, her scales turning a fatal blow into a crippling one that would end her in a minute. A foal screamed and covered a bleeding head.

In the next second, grenades were skipped across the floor.

One moment, Golden Gears was luxuriating in the fact that the ache in her hooves had gone away. She had gotten so used to them that to be free of the little dull pokes was a pleasant experience. She had made sure to thank the good doctor.

And the next, they were being shot at.

Golden Gears flinched at the shrill screams and the booming retorts of the guns as she scrambled up from her position on the ground—taking care to remain hunched as she stood on all four hooves. She couldn't do anything for those already hit. Tartarus, they might even lash out at her if they were approached by anyone other than—what had they been called? Kirin?—their own group, and that'd just make things worse.

"Zebra. Sympathizers detected. Executing lawful use of. Deadly force!"

Buddy was already waddling towards the blown out hole in the wall, presumably intent on finding a good angle to fire its chin-integrated magical beam from. The robot was tough, it'd survive a few pot shots. Probably. Golden Gears let its combat sub-routines run, content it was going to at least shoot at the right folks, and went for her own beam pistol. She'd try to find a crack in the walls, maybe see where the attackers were coming from.

Which is when she noticed the grenades roll in.

In that moment, Golden wished for all the world that she was born a Unicorn instead of an Earth pony.

Even as the others, like Doc, scrambled to deal with them. Golden dived for cover. The asshats that tossed those would likely be coming in afterwards. If those grenades went off inside, she'd rather be behind something solid. Or just away from the grenades in general, really. And if they didn't…well, it'd still be nice to have a position to shoot anyone trying to get inside.

The Fourth Monado · Jun 6, 2024

Cyreni said:
@triumph8w, @Asmodemus, @Dalek Ix, @Sablonus, @The Fourth Monado

Morning's reserve of healing potion in her autodoc was enough for a full recovery. Sawbone removed the dented armor piece for Golden, ensured the wound was clean, and that the wing wouldn't heal incorrectly before administering it.

The pain simply melted away as the wound knitted itself shut. A tender extension of her wing prompted the thought it might hurt, but nothing came of it. The injury might as well have never happened. A couple laps around the ceiling solidified the idea.

For Golden, Morning's armor had been exposed to severe blunt damage on one side, primarily the wing. There wasn't too much to be done for the solid parts without a workshop, especially the thinner wing cover which had suffered the worst, but the underlying systems could be repaired.

The rain continued to pound. Storms in the wasteland could potentially last for over a day, and with no sign of stopping the group prepared to settle in for a longer haul. Sawbone inspected everyone else: fatigue was a universal diagnosis for everyone *besides* Morning. Minor cuts, scrapes, and aches from constantly wandering. Low levels of radiation doses that didn't yet warrant using limited supplies to purge it. Golden was the worst off, while she barely had any radiation exposure, her cold travels and monstrous run-ins had nipped at her extremities, and she lacked the medical supplies necessary to patch herself up.

Bitterbriar was the exception to most of this. He thrived in the toxic conditions. He was also in need of help far beyond anything that could be provided here- the most that could be done was stitching some relatively minor wounds up for his natural healing to finish the process.

Hell arrived with brutal coordination as soon as the rain went from torrential to merely heavy. A gunshot sounded somewhere in the distance, and immediately Spring Embers screamed in pain by the window as it shattered inwards, falling over and clutching his shoulder. With eyes now on him, the rear of the building exploded and a volley of ill-aimed gunfire entered, hitting crates, the walls, the floor, and only occasionally an actual person. It took one lucky shot for another of the kirin adults to go down, her scales turning a fatal blow into a crippling one that would end her in a minute. A foal screamed and covered a bleeding head.

In the next second, grenades were skipped across the floor.

The instant Spring got shot, everything got real messy real fast. Every weapon the Kirin had came up in hoof and magic field, as the foals collectively ducked and covered - and then gunfire came from the other end as the feint worked for just long enough for some of the Kirin to get caught out. One of them, River Embers, went down, and one of the foals got clipped-

And then there was Dawn, already between the children and the wall. With a snarl, His own wall of light ripped up from the earth - except along its blue curved danced pink and purple Nirikflame. "Move away from the campfire - get to the walls!" He snarled out behind him, and to their credit the foals were moving halfway through that. He could feel that same Nirikfire twisting inside him - the violence making it scream, begging to be unleashed. But not here. Not in the building. Not in the shelter. If he did, this whole building... everyone in here... they'd burn. So-

GODDAMNIT WHY DO THEY HAVE GRENADES

The flames lashed outward as a herald to telekinetic force, as Dawn unleashed a pulse of magic along the floor to pick up and fling the grenades back-!

Dalek Ix · Jun 7, 2024

[THE OFFICER]

Asmodemus said:
"If everypony's a mutant then is anypony really a mutant? I woulda spoke up earlier, iffen a gun hadn't been aimed at me, but Kirin are a race from before the big booms, they're supposed tah look like that. Not too familiar with them though, rare folk. S'why I didn't plan tah poke my head out till she showed up." A gesture towards Golden at that. "At least, not before the storm ended."

Well, I'm not a mutant, but I've learned that it's sometimes rude to point out the obvious to ponies. Especially if you're gonna be stuck with them for a while.

If-When I come back I'm gonna find the nearest weather manager and strangle them.

His comment that Dawn and the muties with him --Kirin-- were supposed to look like that caught me off guard. I even caught myself staring at them because... I mean, split horns, that wierd tail, those scales running down their backs and from the top fo the muzzle to their horns, and what's going on with their hooves...?

Asmodemus said:
"Who the buck's Tirek?"

I tilt my head.

"...A Pre-war legend meant to be the embodyment of evil." A snort. "He never existed, so the name's just used as a shorthand for somepony really unpleasant."

Asmodemus said:
Ah, things were rather more serious now. "...Ah've got no idea what 'battery' you're talking about, but sounds like your group's hiding up in some mountains somewhere, and they've either missed some stuff or played you dirty keeping things from ya. Ah'm sorry your folk ran into something like that, no idea who had it or why. Sounds like some very heavy firepower and few groups got that.

The Scorched are spread out across the wastelands, helping folks, and I've done a fair bit of traveling myself. If you want a rundown on things, I'm happy tah educate a fellow pony in the wastes on what could help em. We all gotta look out for each other what's reasonable, else the unreasonable will gnaw our bones after all." He'd be capable of describing commonly known groups and powerful forces easy enough after all. (as a player, I can't do this fully IC cause I'm not super familiar)

"... Thank you. I'd like that."

Asmodemus said:
"Hmm. Well, with the stable dweller, or similar, here, suppose I might as well sum things up for their sake too." Sawbone Sid said, pointing Golden's way.

I listened intently to the explanation. Behind my helmet's lenses, my eyes dart around the suit's interface, typing in notes. Amazingly, some of the things the doctor tells me about are things I've heard about; the Enclave's gone to war with Gryphons, for one, and the idea of Raiders is something I'd been expecting to be commonplace down here. And the Steel Rangers had been in the briefing, miracle of miracles!

And then there's... the rest. I'm... surprised that zebras still exist, and even more surprised that Stable-Tec's boondoggle had actually worked well enough that some ponies had survived in them.

And yes, I do catch the implied "I know what you are" when he talks about the mysterious group all the pegasi in Equestria must've gone off to. And the Dashites. Bucking Dashites why do we exile you when we ough to just shoot you?!

And then the good doctor reaches the part with Alicorns and I have to pause because ex-bucking-cuse me what!?

triumph8w said:
Golden Gears blinked. She caught that?

"...yes?" Golden said slowly, carefully. Trying to push away any remaining irritation over Bitterbrair's comment. "Or, well, we've got strict rules on relationships back home. Some ponies don't like it—pretty sure people have been arguing about it for…well, a while. Resources are important back home. Not much room for slip-ups."

Oh my moon and stars.

"The-" Bucking Directorate of Population. "- Ponies in charge where I am from are... very, very strict about how many children we're allowed to have. Which is not a lot and you need to apply for permission if you do, and from what my parents told me it takes ages to get any approval and holy buck do they try to bury you in red tape when you try. If you're in the military it's easier, but that still means there's like... thirty different forms you have to fill, get inspected by somepony, get interviewed for, have them stamped and then bring them all to the ponies in charge so that you have permission. For one child. And if you don't succeed in thirty days you have to do all of that all over again."

I groan... and then pause.

... Hmmm.

"The one silver lining is that any relationship which doesn't result in a child is encouraged," I note, tail flicking.

triumph8w said:
"I could take a look!" Golden Gears said with a smile, ears flicking from the sound of a power armored hoof meeting the wooden floor. Autodocs were such fascinating pieces of technology. Really, a high point of pre-war engineering. Safe, quick, efficient. You take care of an autodoc, and it would take good care of you.

"Besides, I don't really need caps or anything. Not right now, though it would probably–right, um. I'm actually looking for something important. A Type-4 magical generator, or something like it. Usually used for important installations of the pre-war government, like the old Ministry buildings. In this case, a regional hub for the Ministry of Wartime Technology. I doubt you have one on hoof or anything, but any information could be helpful!"

Golden Gears paused for a beat.

"Ah. It's not conditional for my assistance, either. I'll help either way."

Behind her, Buddy's head slowly scanned the room with all the steady deliberateness of a fan

"Veterans. Receive a. Five percent discount!"

...You know, I wonder if I could claim that discount from her robot buddy? And what would that even... do?

Focus, Morning.

Right... Hm. Type-4 magical generator...

"Not sure where you could find a Type-4 MagiGen," I tell Golden... which is a lie, because SFC-NORTH HQ definitely has one, "I know how to make a Mk-4 Constant Spark generator from basically scratch, which might work depending on the power draw, but that comes with a whole set of maintenance challenges you'll need either another pegasus or a unicorn who knows how to cast a cloud-walking spell for."

A pause. I sigh.

"... Dad is a cloud engineer. Mom is a cloud engineer. It was inevitable."

Cyreni said:
Morning's reserve of healing potion in her autodoc was enough for a full recovery. Sawbone removed the dented armor piece for Golden, ensured the wound was clean, and that the wing wouldn't heal incorrectly before administering it.

The pain simply melted away as the wound knitted itself shut. A tender extension of her wing prompted the thought it might hurt, but nothing came of it. The injury might as well have never happened. A couple laps around the ceiling solidified the idea.

For Golden, Morning's armor had been exposed to severe blunt damage on one side, primarily the wing. There wasn't too much to be done for the solid parts without a workshop, especially the thinner wing cover which had suffered the worst, but the underlying systems could be repaired.

I am not gonna lie; flying around the rafters was amazing and the smile on my face hurt. And I wouldn't have it any other way because the alternative is something I'm gonna never think about, nope!

I don't hug the doc only because... well. Power armour. But I make sure to thank him.

And while the armour layer itself was still all bent out of shape, the inner frame (and the autodoc) are thankfully intact enough for Golden Gear to fix it. Doubly so for the wing portion of the frame; the Enclave Power Armour's strength enhancement also applies to the wings, so having one of them out of commission would be... well, it would be a choice between turning the flight assist on the other wing off and having to carry the whole weight on my own wingpower (which I've done during training, but it's as exhausting as you'd think) or keeping it on and having to do some... really interesting flight maneuvers to keep going straight. Yeeesh.

Unfortunately for everypony here, those repairs ended up being very necessary.

Cyreni said:
Hell arrived with brutal coordination as soon as the rain went from torrential to merely heavy. A gunshot sounded somewhere in the distance, and immediately Spring Embers screamed in pain by the window as it shattered inwards, falling over and clutching his shoulder. With eyes now on him, the rear of the building exploded and a volley of ill-aimed gunfire entered, hitting crates, the walls, the floor, and only occasionally an actual person. It took one lucky shot for another of the kirin adults to go down, her scales turning a fatal blow into a crippling one that would end her in a minute. A foal screamed and covered a bleeding head.

One of the kirins being shot through a window was all the warning we got before everything went straight to Tartarus. The gunshot and the scream immediately make me get up on my hooves, eyes flicking to the suit interface to arm the EFS. My plasma rifles glow, and I'm about to shout at everypony to get away from the windows when the back of the building blows in, followed by a hail of gunfire.

"GET DOWN!"

>efs.pam ACTIVE -t -m

I'm moving. Get between the breach and the foals. Have to keep my left side away from the breach. Plasma rifles swivel towards the muzzle flashes in the rain, glowing bright. The suit's lenses gleam in the low light, and the sensor suite makes out the shape of our attackers in the darkness.

A thought, and the air lights up with plasma. The superheated bolts of arcane energy scream as they cut through the air, vapourizing the rain as they go.

My mind is racing. Training and instinct tell me to take flight, go out into the night and fight the attackers from the air. The screaming foals tell me to stay here. Meanwhile, I'm wondering who the tartarus is shooting at us; this looks way too coordinated to be the work of some gang of psychopathic mutants... but at the same time, they're also just spraying us with automatic fire from outside, hoping to hit us with weight of fire.

A flick of my tail, and the blade at the end unsheathes.

"GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS!" I roar out, still firing plasma at whatever my sensors can pick out, "And somepony put that fire OUT!!"

Cyreni said:
In the next second, grenades were skipped across the floor.

Asmodemus said:
Only to quickly refocus onto grenades, intent on tossing back out, without care for how far beyond 'outside', changing target if the unicorn ghoul grabbed the same one.

Get grenades out, start stabilizing patients, triage, fetch out needler pistol and fire a paralyzing dart if any of what was likely raiders popped in for melee, avoid becoming a casualty himself. Priorities.

triumph8w said:
One moment, Golden Gears was luxuriating in the fact that the ache in her hooves had gone away. She had gotten so used to them that to be free of the little dull pokes was a pleasant experience. She had made sure to thank the good doctor.

And the next, they were being shot at.

Golden Gears flinched at the shrill screams and the booming retorts of the guns as she scrambled up from her position on the ground—taking care to remain hunched as she stood on all four hooves. She couldn't do anything for those already hit. Tartarus, they might even lash out at her if they were approached by anyone other than—what had they been called? Kirin?—their own group, and that'd just make things worse.

"Zebra. Sympathizers detected. Executing lawful use of. Deadly force!"

Buddy was already waddling towards the blown out hole in the wall, presumably intent on finding a good angle to fire its chin-integrated magical beam from. The robot was tough, it'd survive a few pot shots. Probably. Golden Gears let its combat sub-routines run, content it was going to at least shoot at the right folks, and went for her own beam pistol. She'd try to find a crack in the walls, maybe see where the attackers were coming from.

Which is when she noticed the grenades roll in.

In that moment, Golden wished for all the world that she was born a Unicorn instead of an Earth pony.

Even as the others, like Doc, scrambled to deal with them. Golden dived for cover. The asshats that tossed those would likely be coming in afterwards. If those grenades went off inside, she'd rather be behind something solid. Or just away from the grenades in general, really. And if they didn't…well, it'd still be nice to have a position to shoot anyone trying to get inside.

The Fourth Monado said:
The instant Spring got shot, everything got real messy real fast. Every weapon the Kirin had came up in hoof and magic field, as the foals collectively ducked and covered - and then gunfire came from the other end as the feint worked for just long enough for some of the Kirin to get caught out. One of them, River Embers, went down, and one of the foals got clipped-

And then there was Dawn, already between the children and the wall. With a snarl, His own wall of light ripped up from the earth - except along its blue curved danced pink and purple Nirikflame. "Move away from the campfire - get to the walls!" He snarled out behind him, and to their credit the foals were moving halfway through that. He could feel that same Nirikfire twisting inside him - the violence making it scream, begging to be unleashed. But not here. Not in the building. Not in the shelter. If he did, this whole building... everyone in here... they'd burn. So-

GODDAMNIT WHY DO THEY HAVE GRENADES

The flames lashed outward as a herald to telekinetic force, as Dawn unleashed a pulse of magic along the floor to pick up and fling the grenades back-!

And, as if things couldn't get any worse, they're now throwing grenades at us; I don't think the shrapnel would pierce my armour at this distance and the suit would compensate if those were meant to be stunners, but I still hunker down, keeping my right side towards the breach, still sending plasma downrange.

Thankfully, Doc and Dawn are quick on the uptake and they scramble to toss the 'nades back out of the warehouse; if some mutant's trying to rush us after they threw them in, they're in for a nasty shock.

Especially since, the second after they go off, I stand up and charge towards the breach.

Sablonus · Jun 7, 2024

Asmodemus said:
Sid focused the majority of his attention on the ghoul when he was doing the round, energy field applying precise stitching. "Ah've treated ghouls before, just need a proper cleaning after of the tools. Yer in need of a lot more help, proper medical facilities ta get ya back to tip top, but I kin tie ya back together a bit, let your healing fix ya up."

Bitterbriar had protested at first- Ostensibly because he didn't fully trust the Scorched, and furtively because he felt it'd be a waste of supplies and effort. Still, he'd relented with a bit more grumbling. He turned to huck a wad of saliva into the spellfire. Quite the feat considering the state of his muzzle. "Pah! Never been and never will. Never treated a ghoul like me before- I only get better with age. Rads probably sterilized yer needle!"

Cataracts lost in memory watched the purple-pink flames as the other ponies' conversations faded around him. Or maybe he'd just fallen asleep.

Cyreni said:
Hell arrived with brutal coordination as soon as the rain went from torrential to merely heavy. A gunshot sounded somewhere in the distance, and immediately Spring Embers screamed in pain by the window as it shattered inwards, falling over and clutching his shoulder. With eyes now on him, the rear of the building exploded and a volley of ill-aimed gunfire entered, hitting crates, the walls, the floor, and only occasionally an actual person. It took one lucky shot for another of the kirin adults to go down, her scales turning a fatal blow into a crippling one that would end her in a minute. A foal screamed and covered a bleeding head.

In the next second, grenades were skipped across the floor.

triumph8w said:
"Zebra. Sympathizers detected. Executing lawful use of. Deadly force!"

The Fourth Monado said:
"Move away from the campfire - get to the walls!"

Dalek Ix said:
"GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS!" I roar out, still firing plasma at whatever my sensors can pick out, "And somepony put that fire OUT!!"

It takes moments- Precious moments- For Bitterbriar to snap from his daze as chaos erupted around him.

The ghoul swept forward to smash the fire apart and shield whatever straggling foals the magic, bot, and angry pegasi weren't able to cover. Catching sight of others tending to wounded and bracing for more, Briar missed the grenades entirely and cast his gaze behind them.

He moved to punt logs out the front door before quietly slipping out himself. Mind bare of all but essentials, the intent was to use the logs to draw potential fire and catch any attackers midway with speed, pressuring them from the flanks without leaving an opening in. For the veteran discount.

Cyreni · Jun 7, 2024

Asmodemus said:
Get grenades out, start stabilizing patients, triage, fetch out needler pistol and fire a paralyzing dart if any of what was likely raiders popped in for melee, avoid becoming a casualty himself. Priorities.

triumph8w said:
Buddy was already waddling towards the blown out hole in the wall, presumably intent on finding a good angle to fire its chin-integrated magical beam from.
[...]
Golden dived for cover.

The Fourth Monado said:
The flames lashed outward as a herald to telekinetic force, as Dawn unleashed a pulse of magic along the floor to pick up and fling the grenades back-!

Dalek Ix said:
"GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOWS!" I roar out, still firing plasma at whatever my sensors can pick out, "And somepony put that fire OUT!!"
[...]
Especially since, the second after they go off, I stand up and charge towards the breach.

Sablonus said:
He moved to punt logs out the front door before quietly slipping out himself. Mind bare of all but essentials, the intent was to use the logs to draw potential fire and catch any attackers midway with speed, pressuring them from the flanks without leaving an opening in. For the veteran discount.

Morning's EFS picked up multiple red dots in a concave just outside the breach. She fired back, and the first attacker yelled in pain before all the dots started a fighting retreat. They clearly weren't prepared to fight against plasma weaponry. Morning got another good hit in on someone before her first shot's red blip disappeared; the second, moments later. Then they'd moved too far out of range to get guaranteed clean hits.

The returned grenades exploded in the dirt outside, peppering the area in shrapnel, and Morning burst out. Behind the warehouse was a low-sloping hill that peaked at the second floor, with minimal cover besides some sparse, long-rotten trees and exploded stumps. Raiders were behind them or laying flat on the ground, some reloading, others still training their weapons. Two corpses hadn't had any cover and would be smoking if not for the rain. All of them were physically rough, with rougher barding and the roughest, ill-kept weapons she'd ever seen.

Maybe if they sustained fire on her for a while or got lucky hitting a joint or faceplate they could do some real damage.

The most threatening one of the bunch was a pony who stood out with clean, uniform barding and a fully-enclosed helmet. It was difficult to peg him as organized military or raider- the armor was clean and undamaged, and he was armed with a hoofblade, but at the same time his legs, hooves and chest were spiked like a raider's, the helmet's visage was designed for fear with its glowing green eye slits and matted black plume, and his primary weapon was a shotgun in hardly any better condition than the rest.

In either case, he shouted an order to fire from his prone hilltop position as soon as he saw her exit. He was clearly in charge. Muzzles flashed, and bullets scraped and pinged her armor.

Buddy stepped out moments later and began methodically sweeping its aim right to left. As it was not nearly as nimble as an Enclave pegasus, it was immedialy shot- a glancing blow from a shotgun that staggered its leg, and a rifle that punctured a joint and rendered it even slower to move.

Inside the building, the tribe retreated upstairs. Another window shattered as the hidden sniper put a bullet through it, sending the kirin in front to the floor while covering his head. No blood to be seen, at least, and he scrabbled to all fours a moment later. Sawbone's new lowest priority- he galloped to Embers on the second floor to start assessment. He'd live with some bandages and bullet removal, but his shoulder might not work properly in the future without using a healing potion.

Bitterbriar slipped out the front. The sniper might not have been looking at him, because despite being in the potential sight line he wasn't shot. Or perhaps the sniper was leaving him to the half dozen raiders coming down the hill on the opposite side of the tracks, with chains and shackles clinking in packs and weapons floating in telekinesis.

They took one look at him and decided an ambling corpse wasn't worth the effort of capturing. A shotgun was aimed in his direction, but at the range of building to midway up a hill, it was far from a guaranteed hit.

Golden realized nobody was entering the building yet. Morning was headed out to make an offensive, and Bitterbriar was heading out the other way to loop around. Ternox was providing medical aid on the second floor and Dawn had returned the grenades back. What could she do in this situation?

The Fourth Monado · Jun 8, 2024

With the Kirins upstairs, Dawn dropped his shield as he joined them. "They've got us trapped," he muttered, looking around. ""We're gonna need another way out - one that doesn't lead into whatever they've got prepared." And there was no way these guys hadn't prepared something. A sniper at one end, and attackers at the other was blatant bait. They needed another way out. Or...

Another sniper bullet, and Oak Embers went flat. "We got more incoming!" He yelled out to the rest. "Six, from the sniper's angle!"

"Armaments?" Dawn yelled back.

"Couldn't tell!"

Right, well, he was right. He hated being right. But... being right, here, was a blessing. Because six... he could deal with six. He wasn't his dad - the one who'd earned the title the Nirik Star, the only Kirin to go 1v1 against an alicorn and survive winning - but he was strong. He'd been bottling his anger up for a while. This, here?

"Take this so I don't break it!" Dawn called over to the earth pony mare as he levetated his shotgun over to her, before galloping down the stairs and to the hole in the large door. Magic was already shimmering around him, a glow of a barrier that'd be able to take at least some gunfire. But the barrier wasn't his trump card.

A hoof hits the mud outside, before the mud instantly dries out in an explosion of Nirikflame - and Dawn transforms.

A coat black as pitch. Scales shifted to a metallic grey color as muscles shifted, tightened, refined as energy boiled through them. The mane shifts to blue and red, and sweeps out - the shield overflowing with the Nirik's power. Eyes blank white as the flame roars and twists as he steps through, a wall of flame that turned the rain to a blinding cloud of steam and dried the ground nigh-instantly. The steam didn't matter. The heat didn't matter. That boiling, overflowing rage, constantly built up over every single minor annoyance and painful truth of this Wasteland, was finally allowed to vent on its targets.

From the ground, Twisting through the air. As fast as magic blasts, the Nirikfire lashed out - and whatever it touched, it clung to and burned. Flesh. Metal. Clothing. The ground. It didn't matter. None of that mattered.

It was as if Tartarus had stepped out of that warehouse, and by Celestia it was hungry.

Dalek Ix · Jun 8, 2024

[THE OFFICER]

Cyreni said:
Morning's EFS picked up multiple red dots in a concave just outside the breach. She fired back, and the first attacker yelled in pain before all the dots started a fighting retreat. They clearly weren't prepared to fight against plasma weaponry. Morning got another good hit in on someone before her first shot's red blip disappeared; the second, moments later. Then they'd moved too far out of range to get guaranteed clean hits.

On instinct, I key the mike.

<<Two bandits down. Engaging.>>

Cyreni said:
The returned grenades exploded in the dirt outside, peppering the area in shrapnel, and Morning burst out. Behind the warehouse was a low-sloping hill that peaked at the second floor, with minimal cover besides some sparse, long-rotten trees and exploded stumps. Raiders were behind them or laying flat on the ground, some reloading, others still training their weapons. Two corpses hadn't had any cover and would be smoking if not for the rain. All of them were physically rough, with rougher barding and the roughest, ill-kept weapons she'd ever seen.

Maybe if they sustained fire on her for a while or got lucky hitting a joint or faceplate they could do some real damage.

The most threatening one of the bunch was a pony who stood out with clean, uniform barding and a fully-enclosed helmet. It was difficult to peg him as organized military or raider- the armor was clean and undamaged, and he was armed with a hoofblade, but at the same time his legs, hooves and chest were spiked like a raider's, the helmet's visage was designed for fear with its glowing green eye slits and matted black plume, and his primary weapon was a shotgun in hardly any better condition than the rest.

In either case, he shouted an order to fire from his prone hilltop position as soon as he saw her exit. He was clearly in charge. Muzzles flashed, and bullets scraped and pinged her armor.

<<Tally-ho thirteen bandits attacking the warehouse from the rear. Armoured bandit seems to be the leader.>>

The suspicion I'd had earlier is confirmed: somepony is coordinating these barbarians. Somepony with a questionable taste in armour aesthetics. It's... strange that the armour is so well-maintained when the shotgun he's carrying is such a piece of shit, though. Why is that?

Food for thought.

The raiders are trying to take cover and return fire; right now their bullets are just bouncing off like so much rain, but there's only so much even Enclave Power Armour can take. So, why not make both a lot harder for them, hm~?

<<Going vertical.>>

I run forwards, still blazing away just long enough for them to think I'm going to charge into the vague perimeter they've established. Then I rear up, flare my wings, and leap!

Up, up into the sky I fly, wings pumping hard to gain altitude, helped by the suit's strength assist. There's a number in the display that's tracking my height, but any pegasus worth her wings just knows how high they're flying.

One last push, and then I roll and invert, going from a climb into a dive. Suddenly, the cover the raiders have taken is a lot less protective.

Under my helmet, I grin.

<<Firing!>>

My rifles adjust their aim minutely, and then bathe the wasteland in plasma. I strafe as much of the formation as I can before I'm forced to pull up, only a hoofs-breadth from the ground tail swishing in an attempt to cut one of them with the blade. My wings are pumping the air again and I fly around the warehouse in a shallow climb to evade fire.

Cyreni said:
Buddy stepped out moments later and began methodically sweeping its aim right to left. As it was not nearly as nimble as an Enclave pegasus, it was immedialy shot- a glancing blow from a shotgun that staggered its leg, and a rifle that punctured a joint and rendered it even slower to move.

<<Asset taking fire; somepony take the mutie leader out.>>

It's only now that I realize that nobody around me has a radio, with the possible exception of Golden Gear, although I didn't see anything like that on her.

<<... Oh for buck's sake. Have I been talking to myself this whole time?!>>

I keep my rising corkscrew around the warehouse; at first I want to go for another strafing run at the raiders facing the breach, but then I spot more mud-raking muties approaching the warehouse from the opposite direction.

Cyreni said:
Bitterbriar slipped out the front. The sniper might not have been looking at him, because despite being in the potential sight line he wasn't shot. Or perhaps the sniper was leaving him to the half dozen raiders coming down the hill on the opposite side of the tracks, with chains and shackles clinking in packs and weapons floating in telekinesis.

They took one look at him and decided an ambling corpse wasn't worth the effort of capturing. A shotgun was aimed in his direction, but at the range of building to midway up a hill, it was far from a guaranteed hit.

Tally-ho six bandits. Mostly unicorns and... are those chains? Why are they- ah. I see.

I climb sharply, and then get ready to strafe the slavers when something... entirely unexpected happens.

The Fourth Monado said:
A hoof hits the mud outside, before the mud instantly dries out in an explosion of Nirikflame - and Dawn transforms.

A coat black as pitch. Scales shifted to a metallic grey color as muscles shifted, tightened, refined as energy boiled through them. The mane shifts to blue and red, and sweeps out - the shield overflowing with the Nirik's power. Eyes blank white as the flame roars and twists as he steps through, a wall of flame that turned the rain to a blinding cloud of steam and dried the ground nigh-instantly. The steam didn't matter. The heat didn't matter. That boiling, overflowing rage, constantly built up over every single minor annoyance and painful truth of this Wasteland, was finally allowed to vent on its targets.

From the ground, Twisting through the air. As fast as magic blasts, the Nirikfire lashed out - and whatever it touched, it clung to and burned. Flesh. Metal. Clothing. The ground. It didn't matter. None of that mattered.

It was as if Tartarus had stepped out of that warehouse, and by Celestia it was hungry.

What the buck is that.

I ponder the question for a moment... and then decide to put it under mutant bullshit, and dive to bathe whatever the arcane fire didn't hit with plasma..

Asmodemus · Jun 8, 2024

The grenades exploding outside could have sent shivers through Sawbone's hooves, but he hadn't been some dandy up in the tower, he was out and about in the Wasteland for some time. So Ternox prioritized staying alive and staying busy keeping others alive. He had a small Kirin tribe around him, a clanker and a pegasi in power armor with plasma weaponry on his side. All he had to do was keep the lion-dragon-unicorns alive to reap in the thankfulness as sweet as that pegasi had given earlier. She might not have hugged him, but the grateful feeling directed to him was a sweeter, more nourishing reward. Even if it paled to romantic love, a Wastelander took what he could get.

Cyreni said:
Inside the building, the tribe retreated upstairs. Another window shattered as the hidden sniper put a bullet through it, sending the kirin in front to the floor while covering his head. No blood to be seen, at least, and he scrabbled to all fours a moment later. Sawbone's new lowest priority- he galloped to Embers on the second floor to start assessment. He'd live with some bandages and bullet removal, but his shoulder might not work properly in the future without using a healing potion.

Another kirin hit, a quick scope showing no others downed. Sniping view guessed at, trying to remain as out of sight as possible, magically pinning his tarp over the shot through window if needed to remain unseen instead of providing surgery location.

Sawbone Sid preferred to limit healing potion application on his patients, relying on good old medicinal know-how, herbal mixes and such gathered. He preferred it because when it came to times like this, he could use his reserve liberally on ponies.

Tools came forth to pin against the flesh of the kirin, pressing, shifting, as Sid worked his magic real and figurative to extract what bits and pieces there were before applying healing potion, better to not have something left in there. He'd ensure the Kirin was in adequate position after and once stabilized, he'd go to find and soothe that injured bleeding foal, if needed apply some Calming as the weakest version of Changeling Mind Control, and tend to them, talk about how they were a brave warrior who now had their first scar, before moving onto the other kirin if nothing else happened.

The sudden burst of light and heat without the kirin feeling sudden horror meant it was probably a good thing on their side. Ternox might scramble and flee if too many of them went down, but for now he'd trust in them to have at least basic sense and focus on his patients.

triumph8w · Jun 8, 2024

Cyreni said:
Morning's EFS picked up multiple red dots in a concave just outside the breach. She fired back, and the first attacker yelled in pain before all the dots started a fighting retreat. They clearly weren't prepared to fight against plasma weaponry. Morning got another good hit in on someone before her first shot's red blip disappeared; the second, moments later. Then they'd moved too far out of range to get guaranteed clean hits.

The returned grenades exploded in the dirt outside, peppering the area in shrapnel, and Morning burst out. Behind the warehouse was a low-sloping hill that peaked at the second floor, with minimal cover besides some sparse, long-rotten trees and exploded stumps. Raiders were behind them or laying flat on the ground, some reloading, others still training their weapons. Two corpses hadn't had any cover and would be smoking if not for the rain. All of them were physically rough, with rougher barding and the roughest, ill-kept weapons she'd ever seen.

Maybe if they sustained fire on her for a while or got lucky hitting a joint or faceplate they could do some real damage.

The most threatening one of the bunch was a pony who stood out with clean, uniform barding and a fully-enclosed helmet. It was difficult to peg him as organized military or raider- the armor was clean and undamaged, and he was armed with a hoofblade, but at the same time his legs, hooves and chest were spiked like a raider's, the helmet's visage was designed for fear with its glowing green eye slits and matted black plume, and his primary weapon was a shotgun in hardly any better condition than the rest.

In either case, he shouted an order to fire from his prone hilltop position as soon as he saw her exit. He was clearly in charge. Muzzles flashed, and bullets scraped and pinged her armor.

Buddy stepped out moments later and began methodically sweeping its aim right to left. As it was not nearly as nimble as an Enclave pegasus, it was immedialy shot- a glancing blow from a shotgun that staggered its leg, and a rifle that punctured a joint and rendered it even slower to move.

Inside the building, the tribe retreated upstairs. Another window shattered as the hidden sniper put a bullet through it, sending the kirin in front to the floor while covering his head. No blood to be seen, at least, and he scrabbled to all fours a moment later. Sawbone's new lowest priority- he galloped to Embers on the second floor to start assessment. He'd live with some bandages and bullet removal, but his shoulder might not work properly in the future without using a healing potion.

Bitterbriar slipped out the front. The sniper might not have been looking at him, because despite being in the potential sight line he wasn't shot. Or perhaps the sniper was leaving him to the half dozen raiders coming down the hill on the opposite side of the tracks, with chains and shackles clinking in packs and weapons floating in telekinesis.

They took one look at him and decided an ambling corpse wasn't worth the effort of capturing. A shotgun was aimed in his direction, but at the range of building to midway up a hill, it was far from a guaranteed hit.

Golden realized nobody was entering the building yet. Morning was headed out to make an offensive, and Bitterbriar was heading out the other way to loop around. Ternox was providing medical aid on the second floor and Dawn had returned the grenades back. What could she do in this situation?

The pounding thunder barking from weapons thudded against Golden Gears' skull, as she sat in the corner like a coward, energy pistol shaking in her grip. She hated this. She wasn't like some people in the Tower, or even some that she met out here, who enjoyed fighting. She hated being shot at, she hated being chased by mutated monsters, she hated all of this.

But it was here, whether she wanted it to be or not.

Golden snorted harshly through her nose, eyes flicking up briefly to the Kirin huddling in the catwalk. They didn't deserve this. Just a bunch of poor kids. Were these the slavers coming to collect? Maybe. The whys could be figured out later. Right now what mattered was putting an end to this. Nobody was coming in, that much was clear. The fight was happening out there. If she stayed here, she'd be useless.

Allright, she thought as she stared at her trembling hooves, she could do this. She had to do this.

"Upsh 'n 'utm," she hissed to herself as she got onto her hooves and-

Suddenly there was a shotgun clattering to the ground beside her.

Golden Gears blinked in surprise as Dawn Blaze called out. "Take this so I don't break it!"

"Bwuh?" She intelligently replied.

And then she saw why he did what he just did.

Golden's eyes went wide at the sight of Dawn Blaze literally going up into a bonfire. Magical flames gripped him tight, searing all over him—yet unlike the hellish treatment they seared into his surroundings, Dawn himself was untouched by the flames' harshest touch, his scales instead turned coal black. Already he was heading for the attackers, ready to rend flesh. For a moment, Golden wondered if this is what a dragon's fire would look like.

She shivered.

And then picked up Dawn's shotgun with her front left leg, and awkwardly held it against her chest as she shuffled forward, making her way towards the hole that had been blown out of the wall, and that Dawn and Morning had just charged right out of. She pressed herself to the side of the blasted out wall, poking an eye around the blackened, jagged corner to briefly glimpse at the fighting.

"Zebra officer. Detected. Engaging priority. Target!"

The protect-buck's primitive vocoder did not cut cleanly through the din, but it was presented with enough programmed enthusiasm that she heard it well enough. It had already taken some hits—lucky shots? Good aiming? Maybe weight of fire—that left it limping as it stood in the open. It had shifted its fire to aim at an honestly really freaky looking raider with glowing eyes.

The protect-buck had been a standout hit from Robronco. Proof that a viable, affordable robot could be made. They had made it in the image of a pony. Some PR play, or just simple, genuine pride. She wasn't sure. They had sold like hotcakes, but the flaws presented themselves. Slow, meandering, not particularly the brightest. Some folks were even a little unnerved at how closely the gen-1's resembled ponies. Something they changed by the time they started rolling out Buddy's model. And with things like the sentinel bots or the sprite-bots coming out—both notably ditching the faux pony legs—well…it had a place as a cheap bot.

"Equestrian soil will. Never. Be yielded to the. Striped menace!"

Here was the thing with protect-bucks; they were stupid, but they sure were determined. They didn't hurt, and even if they weren't top-of-the-line bots, they were still bots. And unlike a pony, unlike an actual flesh and blood creature, they'd never cut and run. Not on their own at least.

Briefly, she debated calling it back. But with an injured leg like that? It may just fall over trying to shuffle back while still firing on the attackers. She'd lose it for sure. If she left it like it was…well, she hoped she would be able to patch it back up. It was an simple robot. Unlike some of the more advanced models, it would never develop a true personality—a primitive one, animal like? Maybe.

Still, she found herself attached to the stubborn thing. She really did hope it made it through this.

Turning her gaze away, she focused on the attackers, breathed in, then out. Then, squeezed down the trigger. She wasn't sure if she would hit any of them, but it didn't matter if she did. She'd add to the pressure, be a distraction. A little more confusion for Dawn and the armored mare to do their thing.

And hopefully not find out what being shot felt like.

Sablonus · Jun 8, 2024

Cyreni said:
Bitterbriar slipped out the front. The sniper might not have been looking at him, because despite being in the potential sight line he wasn't shot. Or perhaps the sniper was leaving him to the half dozen raiders coming down the hill on the opposite side of the tracks, with chains and shackles clinking in packs and weapons floating in telekinesis.

They took one look at him and decided an ambling corpse wasn't worth the effort of capturing. A shotgun was aimed in his direction, but at the range of building to midway up a hill, it was far from a guaranteed hit.

Well, buck. Bitterbriar tucked his head in, swerving to the side as scattershot knicked his hat. Hah! Wait, no- That was definitely a bullet in his ribs. Grunting in irritation as the slavers drew closer, the ghoul begrudgingly reached into his cloak. Backed into a corner, there was no choice but t-

The Fourth Monado said:
From the ground, Twisting through the air. As fast as magic blasts, the Nirikfire lashed out - and whatever it touched, it clung to and burned. Flesh. Metal. Clothing. The ground. It didn't matter. None of that mattered.

Bitterbriar squinted as heat blistered the horizon, turning rain to steam and slavers to suddenly-not-his-problem in a matter of moments. Those were for sure the mutieflames he remembered seeing a few months ago. Quietly, hastily backing off, cataracts turned to the sky as-

Dalek Ix said:
I climb sharply, get ready to strafe the slavers, [...] and dive to bathe whatever the arcane fire didn't hit with plasma..

Yeah, no- They had this covered. He bravely turned tail and fled, trotting for the side of the building under cover of rain as the pincer attack raged on. Glancing back, he turns to the north. If he were to just leave, nobody would blame him.. Bitterbriar shifts, glancing down to Sid's stitchwork.

triumph8w said:
"Zebra officer. Detected. Engaging priority. Target! Equestrian soil will. Never. Be yield to the. Striped menace!"

Ancient memories bubbled back to the surface in fragments, unbidden. What little flesh there was on his face twisted in frustration as Bitterbriar hoofed it- Towards the back of the warehouse. It was just- In his own self interest to see these raiders scattered here. Who knew what'd happen to him if he fled and got caught in a similiar situation, without backup like this? The ghoul surveyed the forces, hoofing it out to keep to the edge of their attention.

Raiders on a hill, low cover. By the scorchmarks, the pegasi had gone on strafing runs- There were grenades involved, but they'd be recovering sooner than he'd like to overwhelm that bot and its ward. What kind of commander-? Cataracts locked onto the helmet, the hoofblade-

Bitterbriar was a cowardly pony. A blustering, wriggling, knot of loathing and barbs. But more than that, he was vain. And when it came to vanity, he was greedy. Bitterbriar drew a warped bat from his rags as he galloped, more of a club studded with rusting nails and wreathed in barbed wire. The way he'd justify it later, raiders were a superstitious and cowardly bunch. Fell the leader, shatter the chain of command, and you scattered the number advantage.

But in the moment, the only thing gnawing at his rotting heart as he charged from the side was a hunger to win the officer's equipment as his prize through single combat, and he'd scatter the brains and flay the flanks of anypony trying to stop him. Screeching for the leader, he looked every bit the feral ghoul he'd been accused of being just earlier that day, skeletal maw spilling with laughter. BRACE CUR, TO PART THY BLADE AND BARDING-

Cyreni · Jun 10, 2024

The Fourth Monado said:
From the ground, Twisting through the air. As fast as magic blasts, the Nirikfire lashed out - and whatever it touched, it clung to and burned. Flesh. Metal. Clothing. The ground. It didn't matter. None of that mattered.

Dalek Ix said:
My rifles adjust their aim minutely, and then bathe the wasteland in plasma. I strafe as much of the formation as I can before I'm forced to pull up, only a hoofs-breadth from the ground tail swishing in an attempt to cut one of them with the blade. My wings are pumping the air again and I fly around the warehouse in a shallow climb to evade fire.
[...]
I ponder the question for a moment... and then decide to put it under mutant bullshit, and dive to bathe whatever the arcane fire didn't hit with plasma.

Asmodemus said:
Tools came forth to pin against the flesh of the kirin, pressing, shifting, as Sid worked his magic real and figurative to extract what bits and pieces there were before applying healing potion, better to not have something left in there. He'd ensure the Kirin was in adequate position after and once stabilized, he'd go to find and soothe that injured bleeding foal, if needed apply some Calming as the weakest version of Changeling Mind Control, and tend to them, talk about how they were a brave warrior who now had their first scar, before moving onto the other kirin if nothing else happened.

triumph8w said:
It had shifted its fire to aim at an honestly really freaky looking raider with glowing eyes.
[...]
Turning her gaze away, she focused on the attackers, breathed in, then out. Then, squeezed down the trigger. She wasn't sure if she would hit any of them, but it didn't matter if she did. She'd add to the pressure, be a distraction. A little more confusion for Dawn and the armored mare to do their thing.

Sablonus said:
But in the moment, the only thing gnawing at his rotting heart as he charged from the side was a hunger to win the officer's equipment as his prize through single combat, and he'd scatter the brains and flay the flanks of anypony trying to stop him. Screeching for the leader, he looked every bit the feral ghoul he'd been accused of being just earlier that day, skeletal maw spilling with laughter. BRACE CUR, TO PART THY BLADE AND BARDING-

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Embers, pale, coughed and drank the offered potion, breathing a sigh of relief as his shoulder knitted itself back up. Blood was everywhere and dripping through the mesh floor. The rain came in through the window at a slight angle and washed some of it away. "Saw the... sniper," he wheezed. "Get to the other side of the building! Anyone in the front is in danger!"

Sawbone was already moving on to the foal, who was inconsolably frightened, hurt, and bawling. He had been carefully levitated up the ramp with the rest of the tribe. One of the kirin had already started helping with bandages from their own supply, and a little soothing magic went very far in bringing him down to just being scared and sniffling. The damage wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been- he'd lost an ear and his skull had been fractured. If the raider had aimed just a little lower...

The rest of the tribe was mostly fine. One was limping, others had been pelted with fragments of debris broken off by gunfire or bruised by a poorly-angled shot. Nothing life-threatening.

Outside, Morning held all of the rear attackers' attention, save one who was doing his best to not be hit by Buddy. A few more shots plinked off her armor plates, one grazing her vulnerable wing as a reminder of her vulnerability. Two raiders directly in front of her lept aside right before she turned and skyrocketed.

They quickly realized what she was doing. The raiders dispersed in a panic, galloping to get over the hill and away from the warehouse. Buddy scored a kill on one retreating mare, Morning looped and dove, and in the span of a few seconds the raiders dwindled from twelve to six. A final raider was gashed across her back by Morning's tail, sending her tumbling into the mud.

Buddy took the opportunity and brainlessly executed her. Bitterbriar came charging out with a noise that only encouraged the raiders to run faster. The officer shouted at the survivors to rally and was ignored. He emptied two barrels at the advancing robot as soon as it looked at him, missing entirely, and ducked behind the ridge to avoid its retaliation.

Bitterbriar crested the top of the hill and met him. The officer rounded his glowing gaze onto the ghoul and extended his blade, a thing made of solid black crystal polished to a mirror shine. Despite the unusual material it didn't appear to fare any better than a normal sword, but he did display immediate skill in using it. Parry an overhead, block a stab, swipe back and scrape and ping against the club's metal mesh; the officer had technique, unlike any regular raider who would simply swing furiously.

For all his skill however, the ghoul had more. Bitterbriar carried the officer's downward swing and stomped the end of his blade into the mud, swiftly following up with a punch to the throat for a stagger, and finally a manic, bloody beatdown.

It was done, and his subordinates were still running.

The front was on fire. Slavers had initially swung their weapons towards Dawn in his shield and only slowing their trot to aim, making it light up and fracture with just a couple shots. Most were glancing hits. Then Dawn exploded into nirikflame, and they stopped in their tracks with wide eyes.

Then the fire came for them. Bolts arced across the gap and the first slaver to be hit by them immediately burned and screamed. More shots, Dawn's shield shattered and smoldering cuts were opened up on his body, but another was struck and their resolve vanished. They fled, but the upward climb with no cover made them easy pickings. Morning showing up was a courtesy, sweeping the area for any last targets. Just one, positioned to be able to watch the warehouse's front entrance and side windows.

Oh no.

A gunshot rang out and the sniper's muzzle flashed in the rain. Dawn felt a searing pain down his flank and his hind legs crumpled. His nirikflame arced wide in a line and a few bolts were flicked back into the warehouse, melting a hole through the exterior and landing on the upper catwalks and concrete ground. An ancient support beam began to smolder. None of the deadly gobs landed in the direction of his tribe.

Sablonus · Jun 10, 2024

Cyreni said:
It was done, and his subordinates were still running.

Chemicals roiled through rotting flesh as lifeblood stained his hooves, already being carried off by the rain. Wheezing breath hissed past the crude, barbed bat clenched between his bony jaws. The ghoul dragged himself from the old reverie of song and dance to rear his head back in triumph.

His vocal chords rattled with the thunder and gunfire in the sky, proof of his survival. Bitterbriar hadn't had a fight like that, short as it was, in a.. In a while. He was rusty. He'd atrophied. But he'd won. Despite what he'd pompously claim after, he wasn't sure he'd even make it to the officer.

They seemed trained, but not experienced. The clean armor should've said as much, but- The ghoul shook his head. Thoughts in circles. He glanced to the breach, where Gears and her robot had held them off. Were the others oka-? No- Take his prize first. His first actual opponent in centuries would have to be buried, later. Testing the hoofblade's weight, Briar tucked it into the rope he called a belt and went about claiming the pony's barding and helmet. Cataracts darted. Went about claiming the man's barding and helmet, the only reason he'd charged in, to see how nicely they'd look on him.

..Ugh. Briar dragged his gaze from the armor and trotted for Gears, wordlessly checking if anypony needed a hoof as the attack died down.

Asmodemus · Jun 10, 2024

Cyreni said:
Embers, pale, coughed and drank the offered potion, breathing a sigh of relief as his shoulder knitted itself back up. Blood was everywhere and dripping through the mesh floor. The rain came in through the window at a slight angle and washed some of it away. "Saw the... sniper," he wheezed. "Get to the other side of the building! Anyone in the front is in danger!"

Ternox didn't have time to chat with the foal bleeding in second priority, the ponies that had went out would have to know what they were doing. He doubted anyone missed this kirin getting hit anyway.

Cyreni said:
Sawbone was already moving on to the foal, who was inconsolably frightened, hurt, and bawling. He had been carefully levitated up the ramp with the rest of the tribe. One of the kirin had already started helping with bandages from their own supply, and a little soothing magic went very far in bringing him down to just being scared and sniffling. The damage wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been- he'd lost an ear and his skull had been fractured. If the raider had aimed just a little lower...

The kirin working on the foal was good to see, that they could take care of their own and weren't helpless. Sid came in and checked over the bandaging, commenting either that it was well done or adjustment recommendation, looking to the foal and chatting casually as they started to work their calming and healing magic. "Hey now, hurts don't it? Like a hole in yer head, hah. Let me see how things are looking." The plague doctor pony checked out the wound, determining that the poor colt's skull was fractured and ear was gone.

"Mmm, quite a first time wound. Yanno, some tribes, they think the first battle wound ya take indicates if you've got a great destiny ahead of ya. Might be yer gonna grow up to be a powerful, fierce warrior and this here's the start of yer story."

Friendly, cheerful, calming and getting the foal to think of things more positively. Standard fare for treating wounded little ponies and hopefully endearing himself in the process. Let the fighters do their thing, while he kept the injured patched up and calm.

Cyreni said:
The rest of the tribe was mostly fine. One was limping, others had been pelted with fragments of debris broken off by gunfire or bruised by a poorly-angled shot. Nothing life-threatening.

His nirikflame arced wide in a line and a few bolts were flicked back into the warehouse, melting a hole through the exterior and landing on the upper catwalks and concrete ground. An ancient support beam began to smolder. None of the deadly gobs landed in the direction of his tribe.

Pausing in his care, Ternox turned his masked head over to the burning areas, particularly the beam, spotting the color of the flames. Sawbone Sid spoke in a deadpan voice. "Let me guess. That's a magical fire we can't put out eating tha beam."

Feeling the nods he sighed and gestured towards the exits. "Right, let's get the wounded out of here before it collapses, away from the sniper side." He started to help as he could with his limited strength. Once out he'd get his tarp and hold it over the wounded until the rain stopped, hopefully others had more cover for themselves, at least it wasn't as bad as it was before.

He'd start considering if any of the places along the way he had spotted but wrote off in favor of the Warehouse might do for shelter if the storm kicked back up instead of dying out.

The Fourth Monado · Jun 10, 2024

Cyreni said:
The front was on fire. Slavers had initially swung their weapons towards Dawn in his shield and only slowing their trot to aim, making it light up and fracture with just a couple shots. Most were glancing hits. Then Dawn exploded into nirikflame, and they stopped in their tracks with wide eyes.

Then the fire came for them. Bolts arced across the gap and the first slaver to be hit by them immediately burned and screamed. More shots, Dawn's shield shattered and smoldering cuts were opened up on his body, but another was struck and their resolve vanished. They fled, but the upward climb with no cover made them easy pickings. Morning showing up was a courtesy, sweeping the area for any last targets. Just one, positioned to be able to watch the warehouse's front entrance and side windows.

Oh no.

A gunshot rang out and the sniper's muzzle flashed in the rain. Dawn felt a searing pain down his flank and his hind legs crumpled. His nirikflame arced wide in a line and a few bolts were flicked back into the warehouse, melting a hole through the exterior and landing on the upper catwalks and concrete ground. An ancient support beam began to smolder. None of the deadly gobs landed in the direction of his tribe.

The Raiders tried to fight back, of course. Dawn's shield couldn't take that much damage before going down, but that didn't matter. Two slavers were burning, and the rest were running, and the pain from the glancing hits was nothing compared to that. A noise escaped Dawn's throat at the site of their running, somewhere between a whinny and a snarl, and the cone of fire swept inwards to consume as many of them as it could. One or two of them went down from plasma shots from the sky, Dawn's head casting about for more targets-

And that, of course, is when Dawn got shot.

The partially vented anger almost immediately began to get drowned out by the fact his hind legs were no longer supporting his legs - and, more importantly, his Nirikfire was going everywhere he didn't want it to go. Desperately, he tried to draw it back to him to suppress it, but he'd never been particularly good at controlling his Nirikflame like this, and all he could do is divert additional flame away from the building as best he could - a good portion of which went into the ground, as dirt wasn't that bad at containing the flame.

If only Dawn had realize how saturated with water the ground was, and the effect of flash-boiling it with Nirik flame.

The last dregs of anger fled him as the ground beneith his hooves shuddered, before suddenly there was no ground, and Dawn was tumbling, tumbling down into a hole that hadn't been there before. There was no time to shout or scream - one moment Dawn was there, the next he was gone.

triumph8w · Jun 10, 2024

Cyreni said:
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Embers, pale, coughed and drank the offered potion, breathing a sigh of relief as his shoulder knitted itself back up. Blood was everywhere and dripping through the mesh floor. The rain came in through the window at a slight angle and washed some of it away. "Saw the... sniper," he wheezed. "Get to the other side of the building! Anyone in the front is in danger!"

Sawbone was already moving on to the foal, who was inconsolably frightened, hurt, and bawling. He had been carefully levitated up the ramp with the rest of the tribe. One of the kirin had already started helping with bandages from their own supply, and a little soothing magic went very far in bringing him down to just being scared and sniffling. The damage wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been- he'd lost an ear and his skull had been fractured. If the raider had aimed just a little lower...

The rest of the tribe was mostly fine. One was limping, others had been pelted with fragments of debris broken off by gunfire or bruised by a poorly-angled shot. Nothing life-threatening.

Outside, Morning held all of the rear attackers' attention, save one who was doing his best to not be hit by Buddy. A few more shots plinked off her armor plates, one grazing her vulnerable wing as a reminder of her vulnerability. Two raiders directly in front of her lept aside right before she turned and skyrocketed.

They quickly realized what she was doing. The raiders dispersed in a panic, galloping to get over the hill and away from the warehouse. Buddy scored a kill on one retreating mare, Morning looped and dove, and in the span of a few seconds the raiders dwindled from twelve to six. A final raider was gashed across her back by Morning's tail, sending her tumbling into the mud.

Buddy took the opportunity and brainlessly executed her. Bitterbriar came charging out with a noise that only encouraged the raiders to run faster. The officer shouted at the survivors to rally and was ignored. He emptied two barrels at the advancing robot as soon as it looked at him, missing entirely, and ducked behind the ridge to avoid its retaliation.

Bitterbriar crested the top of the hill and met him. The officer rounded his glowing gaze onto the ghoul and extended his blade, a thing made of solid black crystal polished to a mirror shine. Despite the unusual material it didn't appear to fare any better than a normal sword, but he did display immediate skill in using it. Parry an overhead, block a stab, swipe back and scrape and ping against the club's metal mesh; the officer had technique, unlike any regular raider who would simply swing furiously.

For all his skill however, the ghoul had more. Bitterbriar carried the officer's downward swing and stomped the end of his blade into the mud, swiftly following up with a punch to the throat for a stagger, and finally a manic, bloody beatdown.

It was done, and his subordinates were still running.

The front was on fire. Slavers had initially swung their weapons towards Dawn in his shield and only slowing their trot to aim, making it light up and fracture with just a couple shots. Most were glancing hits. Then Dawn exploded into nirikflame, and they stopped in their tracks with wide eyes.

Then the fire came for them. Bolts arced across the gap and the first slaver to be hit by them immediately burned and screamed. More shots, Dawn's shield shattered and smoldering cuts were opened up on his body, but another was struck and their resolve vanished. They fled, but the upward climb with no cover made them easy pickings. Morning showing up was a courtesy, sweeping the area for any last targets. Just one, positioned to be able to watch the warehouse's front entrance and side windows.

Oh no.

A gunshot rang out and the sniper's muzzle flashed in the rain. Dawn felt a searing pain down his flank and his hind legs crumpled. His nirikflame arced wide in a line and a few bolts were flicked back into the warehouse, melting a hole through the exterior and landing on the upper catwalks and concrete ground. An ancient support beam began to smolder. None of the deadly gobs landed in the direction of his tribe.

Golden Gears wasn't quite sure if she was hitting anything as the searing beams from her energy pistol cut through the rain, reducing any droplets it cut through into puffs of steam. But as long as she wasn't hitting her nominal allies, then that was good enough. As she peppered the hill with magical beams, she saw the armored mare practically dancing in the air. She had never seen a Pegasus fight before. All graceful loops and heavy firepower. If the air wasn't filled with gunfire and screaming, she'd take a moment to admire it.

As it was, she tried not to look as that bladed tail slashed across a mares back. The shrill scream it drew from her pierced Golden's ears, and she winced as the strangled no was cut off abruptly by Buddy. Its own magical energy beam sending the mares head cracking into the mud.

Just keep shooting, Golden. They were running now. Just…encourage them to leave you alone.

She caught glimpses of Bitterbrairs fight with the leader of the hostile band, but her attention was more drawn to Dawn Blaze's searing flames. It was incredible, majestic, and terrifying all at the same time. Every foal learned, at some point or another, what all three pony tribes were capable of. Old Equestria was built on the backs of these abilities—the three pillars that turned it into a superpower of the old world. Less explanation was given to what the other races could do. And if this was a Kirins power…

Golden wondered why she hadn't heard of them before now. Hunted for their abilities?

And then Dawn Blaze went down with a thunderous crack that was far too artificial for lightning, and his magical flames flicked all around him, with one heading towards the old warehouse. Golden Gears watched, rooted to the spot, as the purplish flame arced in the sky…and collided with a wet sounding splat.

Already it had melted its way through the wall, and she could see the flames begin to flicker. Her ears flattened against her head, and her energy pistol almost slipped out of her mouth. She shook her head, looking outside to scan where it had come from—

And then realized Dawn Blaze was nowhere to be seen.

Oh, crabapples.

Sablonus said:
..Ugh. Briar dragged his gaze from the armor and trotted for Gears, wordlessly checking if anypony needed a hoof as the attack died down.

Golden Gears was in the process of holstering her pistol when she saw Bitterbriar trotting her way.

"Get your head down!" She hissed, worry etched into her voice. "Theres a sniper out there!"

"Detecting. Detecting. Come out and. Surrender. You will. Not be. Harmed!"

The protect-buck's head was slowly scanning side to side as it made its way back, assessing their surroundings. When its head could turn no further, it started to shuffle side to side, stuttering somewhat when it tried to use its damaged leg. Despite what it was saying, she didn't doubt for a moment that Buddy would open fire on the sniper if they revealed themselves, or if it found them first. Sometimes, when she actually listened to it, she couldn't help but think pre-war society could be especially vicious. Though Buddy at least was meant for defending food stores...

Quieter, Golden continued. "Did you see where Dawn Blaze went?"

She glanced over at the Kirin who were coming down from the catwalk, and the flame beginning to lick at the overall structure.

Dalek Ix · Jun 10, 2024

[The Officer]

[TIMEWARP TO THE PAST]

Cyreni said:
Outside, Morning held all of the rear attackers' attention, save one who was doing his best to not be hit by Buddy. A few more shots plinked off her armor plates, one grazing her vulnerable wing as a reminder of her vulnerability. Two raiders directly in front of her lept aside right before she turned and skyrocketed.

They quickly realized what she was doing. The raiders dispersed in a panic, galloping to get over the hill and away from the warehouse. Buddy scored a kill on one retreating mare, Morning looped and dove, and in the span of a few seconds the raiders dwindled from twelve to six. A final raider was gashed across her back by Morning's tail, sending her tumbling into the mud.

Buddy took the opportunity and brainlessly executed her. Bitterbriar came charging out with a noise that only encouraged the raiders to run faster. The officer shouted at the survivors to rally and was ignored. He emptied two barrels at the advancing robot as soon as it looked at him, missing entirely, and ducked behind the ridge to avoid its retaliation.

The strafing run is even more successful than I expected; six bandits down and the rest were running for whatever hole they come from, with their officer screaming himself hoarse (heh) trying to get them back in line.

Bucking mudponies really don't know what to do when they see somepony flying, don't they?

I paid the scattering raiders no mind and the corpses even less than that --after all, if they didn't want to be slaughtered like savages, maybe they shouldnt've gone around being savages, hm~?

Cyreni said:
The front was on fire. Slavers had initially swung their weapons towards Dawn in his shield and only slowing their trot to aim, making it light up and fracture with just a couple shots. Most were glancing hits. Then Dawn exploded into nirikflame, and they stopped in their tracks with wide eyes.

Then the fire came for them. Bolts arced across the gap and the first slaver to be hit by them immediately burned and screamed. More shots, Dawn's shield shattered and smoldering cuts were opened up on his body, but another was struck and their resolve vanished. They fled, but the upward climb with no cover made them easy pickings. Morning showing up was a courtesy, sweeping the area for any last targets. Just one, positioned to be able to watch the warehouse's front entrance and side windows.

Amazingly, with Dawn doing... whatever mutant bullshit he was doing, the other strafing run goes even better; what few mutants don't get melted by arcane fire get blasted by my own plasma fire.

Inside my helmet, I frown. It had been almost too easy. I must've been missing something- Ah. Right, the sniper who started this whole mess.

... Oh, buck the sniper.

My wings pull up, and I go vertical, and then keep pitching up to go past it, briefly going inverted before rolling back to level. My eyes are looking through the sensors and optics, trying to find where the bucking little-!

Cyreni said:
Oh no.

A gunshot rang out and the sniper's muzzle flashed in the rain. Dawn felt a searing pain down his flank and his hind legs crumpled. His nirikflame arced wide in a line and a few bolts were flicked back into the warehouse, melting a hole through the exterior and landing on the upper catwalks and concrete ground. An ancient support beam began to smolder. None of the deadly gobs landed in the direction of his tribe.

The Fourth Monado said:
The Raiders tried to fight back, of course. Dawn's shield couldn't take that much damage before going down, but that didn't matter. Two slavers were burning, and the rest were running, and the pain from the glancing hits was nothing compared to that. A noise escaped Dawn's throat at the site of their running, somewhere between a whinny and a snarl, and the cone of fire swept inwards to consume as many of them as it could. One or two of them went down from plasma shots from the sky, Dawn's head casting about for more targets-

And that, of course, is when Dawn got shot.

Ah-hah!

The muzzle flash is brief, but it's enough for me to find the sniper's nest. One thought later, and I'm diving towards it. Another, and my rifles discharge a burst into the plasma, thoroughly getting rid of that pest (which a sentiment anypony who'd ever had to deal with a markspony would be intimately familiar with).

Satisfied that that was done, I'm about to fly back to the back of the warehouse to see if anything needed to be bathed in plasma there, but then the Wasteland decides to give me another surprise.

The Fourth Monado said:
The partially vented anger almost immediately began to get drowned out by the fact his hind legs were no longer supporting his legs - and, more importantly, his Nirikfire was going everywhere he didn't want it to go. Desperately, he tried to draw it back to him to suppress it, but he'd never been particularly good at controlling his Nirikflame like this, and all he could do is divert additional flame away from the building as best he could - a good portion of which went into the ground, as dirt wasn't that bad at containing the flame.

If only Dawn had realize how saturated with water the ground was, and the effect of flash-boiling it with Nirik flame.

The last dregs of anger fled him as the ground beneith his hooves shuddered, before suddenly there was no ground, and Dawn was tumbling, tumbling down into a hole that hadn't been there before. There was no time to shout or scream - one moment Dawn was there, the next he was gone.

... Uh.

The ground just... did that. Does... Does the ground just do that down here!?

I briefly consider going up and... snagging a bit of the cloud layer, but then I rememember that the lower parts of the layer are part of the anti-radiation shield.

My eyes are then brought to the other problem now rearing it's head: the warehouse is on fire. A little on fire, but crazy mutant flames apparently just eat at things.

... I could just leave.

The thought comes to me like a missile. I could just leave. I have a mission to uphold, ponies to look for, and my wing is healed enough for me to fly, even if the armour's still got some dents in it.

... on the other hand, down there's the good doctor who got my wing healed.

...

rrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGH!

Without another word, I dive again, towards the warehouse. I alight just outside, as far away from the bucking mutant fire (can fire be mutated?) as I can. Trotting into the warehouse just behind the ghoul, I flick my tail to get rid of the blood, and sheathe it in one move.

Now... If I were a bucket of sand, where would I be...?

triumph8w said:
Golden Gears was in the process of holstering her pistol when she saw Bitterbriar trotting her way.

"Get your head down!" She hissed, worry etched into her voice. "Theres a sniper out there!"

"Detecting. Detecting. Come out and. Surrender. You will. Not be. Harmed!"

The protect-buck's head was slowly scanning side to side as it made its way back, assessing their surroundings. When its head could turn no further, it started to shuffle side to side, stuttering somewhat when it tried to use its damaged leg. Despite what it was saying, she didn't doubt for a moment that Buddy would open fire on the sniper if they revealed themselves, or if it found them first. Sometimes, when she actually listened to it, she couldn't help but think pre-war society could be especially vicious. Though Buddy at least was meant for defending food stores...

Quieter, Golden continued. "Did you see where Dawn Blaze went?"

She glanced over at the Kirin who were coming down from the catwalk, and the flame beginning to lick at the overall structure.

"Sniper's dead," I inform Golden, "And Dawn fell down a hole. Has anypony here seen a sand bucket or-"

Oh, right, the Kirins.

"Hey, muties! How do you turn that..." I gesture wildly at the fire. "Mutant fire out...?"

I blink at the stares. And then my brain choses to remind me that Dawn is some sort of unicorn.

So, no wings.

And he fell down a hole.

Face, meet hoof.

"... Dawn fell down a hole," I repeat to myself, growling. "It's in front of the warehouse."

Why should I care, though? Besides the sad foal faces staring at me- oh BUCKING TARTARUS.

"Fine," I growl, "I guess I can help, since I'm the only one here with wings."

triumph8w · Jun 10, 2024

Dalek Ix said:
"Sniper's dead," I inform Golden, "And Dawn fell down a hole. Has anypony here seen a sand bucket or-"

Oh, right, the Kirins.

"Hey, muties! How do you turn that..." I gesture wildly at the fire. "Mutant fire out...?"

I blink at the stares. And then my brain choses to remind me that Dawn is some sort of unicorn.

So, no wings.

And he fell down a hole.

Face, meet hoof.

"... Dawn fell down a hole," I repeat to myself, growling. "It's in front of the warehouse."

@Sablonus @Asmodemus

Golden Gears blinked, then sagged in relief.

Alright. Alright the danger had passed. She wasn't going to get her head blown off. Nobody was. An ear flicked as ethereal flame crackled. Right, she mentally amended, it had mostly passed.

Golden Gears looked towards Morning Mist, giving the armored mare a tired smile

"Okay. Right, um, thats good to hear. And thanks for your help!"

She hated fighting. She really did. Ever since she was a filly, rounded up with the other kids and put through the mandatory defense courses. The Tower may be the greatest and safest place in Vanhoover, but even they had times where they needed every pony on hoof to scare something off.

Didn't mean she liked it when she had to spar with the others.

"Situation normal. Law and. Order. Has been. Restored!

The protect-buck's combat subroutines were apparently satisfied, as it began to limp towards Golden. She eyed Buddy's limp for a moment, a slight frown crossing her face. She'd have to take a look at that at some point. Sooner rather than later. Still, it was able to move, and that would have to suffice for the moment.

"Right," she muttered as she turned her attention to the magical fire as it slowly began to eat at the warehouse. Then spoke louder when she addressed Bitterbrair.

"We should probably help Doc get them out."

Dalek Ix said:
"Fine," I growl, "I guess I can help, since I'm the only one here with wings."

"If you…ah, wouldn't mind?" Golden Gears said sheepishly. She'd do it herself but she'd need to make a pulley system and spend a couple minutes hauling Dawn Blaze out with an injured leg and-

Yeah, better if the person who could fly handled things. Besides, Morning Mist had power armor. That should help!

Golden Gears turned her attention to the more pressing task at hand. She'd help Doc get the Kirin out of the warehouse, grab any supplies that they couldn't carry themselves. After that, when they all had a proper moment to breath, she'd take a look at Buddy. It had taken some hits, and the protect-buck had proven itself to her again and again as a good investment. It'd be a terrible idea to let the bot limp around like that when she could fix it.

Sablonus · Jun 10, 2024

triumph8w said:
"Get your head down!" She hissed, worry etched into her voice. "Theres a sniper out there!" Quieter, Golden continued. "Did you see where Dawn Blaze went?" She glanced over at the Kirin who were coming down from the catwalk, and the flame beginning to lick at the overall structure.

Bitterbriar stood uselessly beside her, staring off into space. The rain dripping down his slack jawed muzzle almost gave the impression of drool.

Dalek Ix said:
"Sniper's dead," I inform Golden, "And Dawn fell down a hole. Has anypony here seen a sand bucket or- Hey, muties! How do you turn that..." I gesture wildly at the fire. "Mutant fire out...?"

I blink at the stares. And then my brain choses to remind me that Dawn is some sort of unicorn. "... Dawn fell down a hole," I repeat to myself, growling. "It's in front of the warehouse." Why should I care, though? Besides the sad foal faces staring at me- oh BUCKING TARTARUS. "Fine," I growl, "I guess I can help, since I'm the only one here with wings."

"If you…ah, wouldn't mind?" Golden Gears said sheepishly.

The ghoul's eyes flickered back into focus, catching the tail end of their conversation with a rare flare of kinship and relief. Oh thank Celly, it didn't have to be him this time. "Aww, is Ms. Tincan going soft on the muties?" Briar jeered despite knowing full well what she'd done to the host of raiders.

"Should get checked again- Might've caught feelings!" Sensed in passing, the gratitude and sardonically amused sympathy was a brief balm across his fractured mind.

"Right," she muttered as she turned her attention to the magical fire as it slowly began to eat at the warehouse. Then spoke louder when she addressed Bitterbrair. "We should probably help Doc get them out."

Eyeing the situation, the ghoul rolled his cataracts. "Know you're awfully keen to show prettycolt how good you are at mothering, but they'll be fine. Scorched would hoof it through fire if it meant just getting one more of'em out." He scoffed derisively, moving to assist her.

"..Nice shooting, kid- Not as useless in a bind as you look."

After helping Gears and Sid, Briar would withdraw to take the officer's equipment for himself and scavenge the raiders' bodies for anything of note or use. Money, spare parts- Maybe even orders of some kind- Before attempting to dig graves.

Cyreni · Jun 11, 2024

The Fourth Monado said:
There was no time to shout or scream - one moment Dawn was there, the next he was gone.

@Asmodemus, @triumph8w, @Dalek Ix

The ceiling opened up inside the hidden chamber, and Dawn tumbled down through. He landed with an unceremonious thud on the dusty and now-muddy concrete, and another spike of pain lanced through him. Everything hurt now. Something was probably broken. And his nirik stunt had left him drained.

It'd be the easiest thing in the world to just fall unconscious right then and there.

The room he was in was pitch dark, with just the barest amount of raincloud-filtered sunlight making its way to the bottom. Fire helped, softly hinting at a few things around him. Pony skeletons, most with shattered craniums, and all laid off to a far corner. A pile of fabric that had long since rotted away past any recognition, on a desk with an unpowered, intact terminal and a revolver. A bare hoofful of discarded Sparkle~Cola cans and empty Crystal^Ridge water bottles. Further back, a large pair of sliding doors sat open, revealing a collapsed tunnel heading in the direction of the pit mine. An open panel displayed the spark battery responsible for powering them, its gem still glowing faintly.

It was clear that Dawn had been the first to disturb this place in a long time, and whoever the last pony standing had been had taken great care to meticulously arrange everything for ease of searching.

Rolling his head the other way, Dawn saw the purpose behind the hidden room.

Sablonus said:
After helping Gears and Sid, Briar would withdraw to take the officer's equipment for himself and scavenge the raiders' bodies for anything of note or use. Money, spare parts- Maybe even orders of some kind- Before attempting to dig graves.

The raiders had little of value on them. Their weapons were old and ill-maintained, made worse by the rain and mud they were now laying in. A blessing for Bitterbriar's group, given how little harm they'd faced overall, and a warning against using them. Their armor wasn't even armor in most cases, being patches of leather and rags or just their bare fur. Some salvaged metal bits had been attached over flanks and chests, so perhaps some of it was better than nothing. A few caps were around too, most of them with the tougher-looking bodies.

The officer himself had much better armor, as Bitterbriar observed earlier. The metal was forged cleanly without a hint of rust, dents, or warping. None that he hadn't inflicted, at least. His blade was unlike any other blade Bitterbriar had seen before. Their clash had left it nicked, revealing that the black, crystal sheen went deeper than a simple coating. Even the zebras would use metal for their weapons. He had no caps.

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