Ghosts of Arlingtrot [Wild Wasteland]

The sky was black, or rather, a dim green color. Radiation and smoke poured into the atmosphere and lingered over the old pre-war memorial cemetery known as "Arlingtrot" where thousands of fallen soldiers were buried before the balefire bombs fell over two hundred years ago. Barely any light showed, the grass was dead and cold, crackling beneath Rodeo's hooves as he walked slowly along. The group which was hired by his same employer following along after him. He stopped at the front gates. He stared at them with his normal glare.

Large, black, decorative gates- long since the vinyl paint had worn off and the rusty steel beneath was showing through. They were closed, and one of the gate's lower hinge had broken away from the column it was suppose to be attached to. Rodeo grunted, and approached the gate. He pushed the good side open, or tried to at least. The hinges were so rusted, the large earth pony actually had trouble pushing it. He found good leverage once he could squeeze through, and pushed it the rest of the way. The rusted old hinges let off a terrible squeal which raddled everypony's ears.

The gate was open, and immediately up a cobble stone drive way, could be seen a large welcoming building. Immediately to the left and to the right could be seen graves. Even there at the entrance, there were craters from explosions in the drive, and in the dirt. Some of the graves had been blasted open and skeletons hung out of them. All at the group's hooves were old bullet casings, long exposed to the weather, rusted and corroded blue. The bodies of fighters lay scattered across the ground as well. However, no weapons or armor were found around them. Looked like they'd already been picked clean by scavengers or treasure hunters... Or something else.

Rodeo looked up to the welcome building, then turned back to the group. "Lets try to keep it quiet," he said with a whisper. He didn't believe in ghosts, no way... But he did believe in respect for the dead. The grave yard was silent as- well... a graveyard. Rodeo did not want to disturb the quiet for the fallen to rest in. "There's bound ta be some kinda loot in that buildin' there," he whispered again. "Let's move." At that, he turned, and started towards the large, dark silhouette of the welcome building a few hundred feet away from them as the fog hid it from plain view.

Sky looked around the eerie place rodeo had taken the group to, she never knew a place like that could creep her out other the usual wasteland. Sky could only watch and stay silent as Rodeo worked on the gate, only to note the name of the place "Arlingtrot" as it was called. She took a moment to look at the atmosphere and make a note at how it looked rather green from the radiation and a bit of black from the smoke that was over the entire cemetery.

Quickly her mind was cutoff as she heard the screech of the hinges of the gate move and crackle when Rodeo pushed it open, she covered her ears a bit til he finally opened it. Inside was a different story, looked like even in a such a dead and tranquil place for the rest of the dead. Ponies still came and fought for what ever they were looking for or tried to do, what ponies could be doing here? She couldn't answer it but from the bullet casings and dead skeletons around, she would have to say maybe there was something here they all fought and died for. But for what was something she was told about, whatever the case she stared at welcoming building.

Slowly she snapped out of it and nodded to Rodeo at his words to keep quiet and to move along, never thought she would be in a place like this but she knew one thing. If she were to die here, she would be in a place where the dead can only rest.

Tiffany had no idea what Rodeo had said, she mostly just saw some ponies and at least a griffon heading somewhere, so she had hurried to catch up, in the hopes there was something interesting or someplace like home around wherever they were going, she didn't know they were going to a ghost town. She didn't even know the group was actually being hired for something.

Arriving at the location, Tiffany looked at everything from the rusted gates to the time-worn bullet casings on the floor, but she cringed and covered her ears with her paws as that gate screeched open slowly. Walking along behind the group, she took especial interest in a few of the casings, picking them up and looking at them closely before stuffing them away into her bags, just because she found them that little bit more interesting than the other casings.

Again, whatever Rodeo had said, Tiffany failed to figure out what he said, so she walked along normally, an interested, but also slightly unhappy expression on the small-ish griffon's face as she saw the skeletons and the dead scattered around. She didn't know why, but no one had recovered these graves, and she really wanted to, though the strange feeling of danger caused her to stick to the paths the others were following.

At the back of the group, slightly away from all the others, a massive black griffon was following along behind them. He was serenely calm as he looked over the area, surveying for possible threats.

Yes, it would seem Kestrel was acting just like he normally did. He was suited up for the mission, his saddlebags full and his weapons ready for use should they be needed.

Unlike their leader Kestrels padded steps made little sound, he was careful in his motions; methodical even. As if he did not wish to disturb the earth or air around him.

It was quiet here, dead, in all meanings of the word. The air, the fog, the grass, the lack of...energy. This really was a graveyard. Kestrel rarely explored places like this, if only because he did not want to disturb the sleeping souls that resided here.

Seeing that the group was advancing. Kestrel broke his silent contemplation and began to move again, following along behind the others without a word.

Saying that Bakewell did not believe in ghosts would be a lie; her very own eyes had seen that they were real. There really were things that went bump in the night. Knowing something supernatural existed and being scared of it were not, however, the same thing. Things lost their shock value even to those like Bakewell if they happened enough.

The beige mare cringed as the gate opened, though she did manage to avoid throwing her hooves onto her ears.

As she entered the graveyard quietly as per Rodeo’s instructions, trotting alongside Scrap Parts if at all possible, (She didn't need to mimic the position in the back of the party she had seen Kestrel use; since the black griffon was here to do it himself.) she helped herself to a look around as she moved towards the building. Graveyards were often considered peaceful places, and Arlingtrot seemed to uphold this expectation eerily well at the present moment. Bakewell couldn’t help but wonder just how much chaos and war this place had seen as her teal eyes rested upon the dead fighters, blast-holes. As her eyes fell upon the disturbed graves, she silently wondered who the ponies had been. Were they young or old? Had they been rich or poor? Did they have families?

Jasmine trotted along having difficulty hiding her enthusiasm. This was her first real outing into the post apocalyptic world of Equestira. Arlingtrot cemetery was so full of history and she remembered reading about it in passing during her leisurely research. That is to say that when she took a break from researching science, she would unwind from doing more research on things that aren't of consequence. She flew right over the gate as Rodeo passed through and landed a short distance away. She donned a tool she created to make note taking easier on her head. Literally it was nothing more than a pencil holder strapped around her forehead, but she made it so she would be able to talk and write at the same time.

She took in a deep breath as she looked at the landscape of graves and bodies of long fallen soldiers. This place was so full of history, she took a journal out of her saddle bag and placed it on the ground. It was time to document her experience, she pressed the pencil to the page and began moving her head to form words.

"Oh my goodnethh! I can't believe what a dump thith plathe ith! It'th definitely hath changed quite a bit after two hundred yearth of neglect. Hey Rodeo, why'th everypony whithpering?!"

Jazz stowed her journal and flew over toward the group disturbing dust as she did so.

Keeping it quiet and following the group up to this land of the long dead, Kira have had an uneasy feeling ever since they came to this place and now when she saw it the feeling did not become better. There was just something that was so wrong with a place were so many have died before the bombs and who knew how many when the war ended. It a place of the dead and their ghosts.

Maybe if the gryphoness had heard about ghost earlier she would laugh and not believe them but not anymore, she knew there was more in the wasteland that made sense and the spirits long dead ponies would not be anything new.

As Rodeo opened the gate with a screech she walked up next to Sky looking down a the pegasus then out over the landscape once again, this was going to be... interesting. Giving a nod Kria followed after Rodeo as he kept walking.

Rodeo's eyes went a little wide as he watched Jasmine flutter about making noise and disturbing the ground. "Jasmine!" he whisper-shouted. "Ya gotta stay quiet, n' respectful uh the dead," he said with authority in his voice. He was being a leader right then, not a nice pony. "Any noise we make can literally echo across the whole daggum place. If there's anypony out there, we don't want it ta find us."

He turned back to the others, and did notice his hooves were going clip-clop-clip-clop as he walked along. As were the rest of the ponies with them. Rodeo decided the subtle sounds of their walking would be enough to give their presence away to anypony near-by, but not loud enough to carry their sounds across the cemetery. Still, he attempted to make his hooves a little more quiet by walking slower and dragging his hooves more.

Scraps tried to keep as quiet as possible as he walked alongside Bakewell, keeping his head on a swivel, taking the admittedly eeire surroundings around him as he went along. He wasn't particularly scared, he didn't believe in ghosts, he was a pony if science and ghosts were a scientific impossibility, so unless one lept in front if his face and booped his nose. Even then he'd still probably be iffy in his beliefs.

The screech still caused him to flinch though, it was most definitely a unpleasant noise. At least it didn't cause anything to try and jump out and eat their respective faces, which, based on his past experiences was entirely plausible.

Since nothing did happen he just walked onward as the leader of their exploration, a large earth pony he'd seen around before but never really met, lead them to wherever they were going.

Night Shade had heard the rumors about this place. Night Shade never believed in ghosts, and even if they ended up being real, he didn't care. Night Shade didn't know any of the members of this little team save for Sky and he didn't know her very well. He was staying in the middle of the group as to him, that was the safest spot to be.

Night Shade was hoping for minimal combat and lots of looting, but nothing ever went his way. He was ready in the case of an attack or something among those lines. As far as socializing came, Shade would just keep quiet and follow the group.

The echos of Jasmines outburst echoed solemnly throughout the grave-sites of the Arligtrot National cemetery like the calls of a wild animal.

He resisted the urge to frown at that. Stealth was the name of the game on this mission, the fact that Jasmine had just broken that and alerted the whole area to the teams presence was not earning her any points from Kestrels book.

Rodeo seemed to be dealing with her for now though, so Kestrel just kept his beak shut and kept walking forward, still scanning the area around the team just in case anything showed up to answer Jasmines call.

Jasmine's ears folded back as her head lowered at Rodeo's response. She didn't think that a place like this could be dangerous. She was still under the impression that most ponies in the wastes would try to work together for a better world; but time would correct her view on this. She took a moment to consider the leader's remark, and adjusted her attitude accordingly. Jasmine didn't usually take anything personal, especially Rodeo's tone. He wasn't trying to be a bad pony, he just wanted everypony safe. She stood confidently and laughed off her silly mistake.

"Thorry Rodeo! I'll be thure to be extra thilent, I'm jutht tho exthited to be in thith hithtorical landmark. And I'll make a mental note to rethpect your cultural mannerth and not taunt the ditheathed in anyway. Even if they aren't conthiouth of their thurroundingth."

Jazz joined their group formation and trotted along behind Rodeo's lead, as happily and as silently as possible.

The building got closer and closer as the group continued to move up the cobble drive. The dark, spooky silhouette of a building now turned into a wide, spooky view of the same building. The building was large, seemed to be three floors, had large columns, a pull through driveway, large, fancy, wooden doors which had long since been filled with holes and halfway rotted. The paint was chipping away, windows were broken out, and the entire north-west corner had collapsed in. Back in the day before the war, it seemed as though it would be a magnificent building, filled with all kinds of life despite its setting. Back before the war, the cemetery was not just a place of death, but a place of life- and remembrance, and the understanding of the value of life and sacrifice. Now its just a grave yard. One massive tomb.

Rodeo approached the front doors, and peeked through one of the holes. Inside was a grand room filled with furniture, which had been scattered around. Not one piece remained in its original location before the bombs dropped. Chunks of wood were strewn about the floor. Explosion marks, craters, bullet holes in the walls, and a massive chandelier smashed in the middle of the welcome room. Also, skeletons. This building was as full as death as the rest of the grounds. Many, many battles appeared to have been fought inside.

Well? What was he waiting for? Rodeo put his hooves on the large door, and shoved it open. The instant he did, a large engine block attached to a chain swung down and through the door way. Rodeo just barely caught glimpse of it in time and dove out of the way. The large chunk of metal swung past, and fell back in to dangle in the door way.

Rodeo stood up and dusted himself off. "Oh, by the way... Ah think there might be booby traps inside," Rodeo said with utmost seriousness, then proceeded in. The decorative marble floor making loud clops as he entered.

Tiffany didn't know what the ponies were going on about, whatever they were saying was garbled nonsense to her, and she hadn't the courage to even consider trying to find out what they said, yet. But one of them was being very loud and bouncy, which judging by the tones of the others, was not what was wanted. Instead, Tiffany kept on picking up random bullet casings, each of them having different shapes and sizes, not to mention an interesting range of strange colours compared to normal bullets, she simply slid all the ones she felt were the most interesting into her bags.

There were two other griffons here at least, so she guessed that if she wanted to, she could easily talk to them at some point, ask what they're actually doing here. But for now she was just following, in front of Kestrel but behind the ponies.

One thing the young griffon could easily interpret was the trap, having seen it go off as Rodeo opened the door, just for hte pony to barely avoid it. So the house was trapped? That wouldn't be safe at all. But regardless, as Rodeo walked in, Tiffany eagerly slinked in right after him, having seen that chandelier and wondered over what it actually was, curiously poking it and trying to move bits.

As the team had approached the building Kestrel had taken the time to give it a solid looking over. He'd never been much of an architect, but the building had been well designed. Its large pillars and small drive perfect for making a statement, yet keeping things simple.

His gaze took in all it could before focusing on the doors, they had been riddled with bullet holes and blast marks. A small frown etched its way onto the normally dead calm Griffons face, his mask hiding it from sight.

Who would be so disrespectful as to wage war in a place of rest? Truly whatever pony or griffon had shot this place up should have known better. Even if one held no belief in the supernat-

*CRASH*

Kestrels gaze locked on the source of the sound. Rodeo had just nearly joined the corpses here in the graveyard. A massive engine block now dangled and shifted like a pendulum from an old clock.

Traps? Kestrel doubted that was part of the original building plans, it looked....newer than that. Someone didn't want anyone prowling about this place, and he doubted it was the souls that lived here.

Entering into the building behind all the others Kestrel kept his guard up and his beak shut, doing his best to keep low and quiet.

Night Shade nearly jumped when he saw that motor come for Rodeo. Great the place was booby trapped. He would have to walk with extra caution now, and keep a keen eye out for anything suspicious. Though there were ponies, and griffons, here that can probably pull out a booby trap better than he could. Shade would just keep following the others and watch his own flank.

The place at one time must have been quite impressive, of that there was little doubt. Even riddled with bullets, skeletons, and the trials of time the building managed to be unique and interesting, if a bit morbid, in appearance.

Bakewell flinched back as she saw the engine block swing through the doorway, even though there was no way it could possibly reach her given the length of the chain. That… could have been bad. Still, while it was possible that a ghost had set up the trap the far more likely solution pointed to a living, breathing pony.

“You don’t suppose there’s actually some innocent pony trying to eke out a living in here, do you?” She whispered to Scrap as she moved through the doorway. Her hoofsteps made echoing clip clops as she moved forwards. This building seemed to echo, and there was no doubt that if anything resided in this building, they definitely knew of Bakewell and the other "guests" by now. “…I hope not. I don’t particularly want to be a thieving raider.”

A living pony seemed likely, and unlikely all at once. Somepony would have to be absolutely insane to try and live in a place like Arlingtrot... Then again, it wasn't impossible. Insanity seemed to be a common side effect for living in the Wastes. Living or not, the group would have to be on the lookout for anything setting the traps that they'd have to look out for.

He trotted slowly over to Kes's side, and whispered to him. "Keep uh keen eye out fer anythin' that ain't dead," he said to him as he looked around the room. There were many door ways which lead to who knows where. The room they were in was large, and had two stair cases running up to a balcony which seemed to lead somewhere as well. Two corridors split off into the west and east wings. Rodeo assumed there would be mostly offices or records stored there, but it could still be worth a look if there had been so much fighting.

Rodeo did notice another thing, once again. All of the skeletons, while you'd assume the dead bodies would've been wearing armor, or dropped weapons- they did not. The skeletons were naked, and had no weapons anywhere near them. However, bullet casings and signs of explosions were everwhere. It was fairly obvious that somepony had definitely gotten there sooner than their group and picked everything clean... Or, at least that's what Rodeo figured.

"Alrighty, Ah think we best split up here. There's uh lot uh ground ta cover in 'ere n' Ah dun even wanna imagine how dark it'll be at night. Seein' as its almost dark now in the middle uh the day, Ah cain't imagine anythin' bein' visible."

Rodeo looked around, and felt a sudden chill. The rest of the group might feel it too, a sudden shiver up their spines. "Alrighty, two groups. Everypony to the left uh Kes come with me, the rest uh y'all go with Kes." Rodeo said, pointing his hooves, and then started walking towards one of the stair cases.

In Rodeo's group was Tiffany, Jasmine, Dash, Penny, and Sketch. Kes' group had Bake, Scrap, Ark, Kira, Sky, and Night.

Kestrel had been examining some bullet casings and skeletons closely, trying to judge how long they'd been there on the floor; and just where their armor had gone when Rodeo walked up to him and told him to keep an eye open and that the team was going to be separating into two units.

Kestrel wouldn't lie, the idea did not seem very good to him; yet he would obey. With a silent nod Kestrel stood back up to his full height and waited for his 'team' to approach him.

Looking them over he decided that he had a decent group, he knew most of the ponies personally and knew they could at least fight a bit; should they find anything in this place that wasn't in fact dead, they'd be able to handle it.

As he looked around he could not help but feel that there was...something in here. He did not know what it was, or even if it was here in all reality, but the griffons senses were screaming at him, telling him he was not alone here in the cool darkness. He narrowed his sharp gaze and resolved to keep his guard up for now.

Looking around he found that there were a few paths he and his team could take. They could stay down stairs and explore one of the wings, or head towards the upper levels and start working there alongside Rodeo and his group. He figured it best to clear the ground floor before advancing to assist Rodeo and his team.

"Eyes open, guard up, stay together. We'll clear this floor then move upstairs." He said to his group, his serene tone just loud enough for all of them to hear. He gave them all a moment to absorb the information before heading off towards the east wing; taking a place at the front of the group.

"Move out."

Rodeo lifted a hoof, and placed it cautiously on the first step of the stairway on the left. It creaked a little, but held his weight. He started up slowly, the stairway which once had decorative red carpet on it, but now was covered in ruined brown, raggity rag. Halfway up the stairs, there was a skeleton of a pony laying up against the wall. Behind him on the wall, there was a steady line of bullet holes. Four of the holes were surrounded by blood which had stained the dry-wall several years prior. The dying pony slumped against the wall, and slid down to a sitting position where he had died. His skeleton now sat in the same position he was left in all those years ago.

But, something didn't make sense... This skeleton was naked too. As if, the armor was taken off of the body, and the body was placed back in the exact position it was in before. Rodeo leaned in and looked closer. All the old, withered, dried out tendons and joints were still attached. It must have been a pair of amazingly careful hooves that removed the armor. Or a spell of some sort. Either way, the body didn't seem to have been disturbed in the slightest.

Rodeo stepped over the skeleton, and continued up the stairs, attempting to rid his mind of the thoughts. He got to the top, and looked around. He felt something. Finally, his eyes caught onto something in the corner of a small room at the top where some old, broken down elevators were. The corner was empty, but Rodeo couldn't look away. He felt like... like something was staring right at him. He shook his head at the thought, and pressed onwards towards the elevators. To the left and the right were two smaller hallways. Rodeo felt he should try the left first, then come back to the right. So he did just that. He turned left, and started down the hallway.

Along the walls were several old portraits. Most of them had been knocked off and were sitting on the ground either flat, or against the wall. The portraits portrayed several ponies dressed in pre-war military uniforms with a flag of Equestria in the background. Equestrian patriots from before the war, all dead now. Possibly some even buried on the grounds they worked. Most of the portraits seemed to have been trampled on, or shot, or drawn on, or stabbed, or in any other ways, defaced. Rodeo stepped over them as he proceeded down the hallway. Little did he realize, disturbing important memorabilia of somepony's past life was exactly what would upset a ghost... Should there be any. Stepping over them was a wise choice.

Bakewell obediently moved over to Kestrel when instructed that she was in the griffon’s group. Though she had never travelled directly under Kes’ lead before, Bakewell successfully predicted that the bird-cat’s instructions would include “keep your guard up” and “Stick together”. The instructions proved to be a constant regardless of who she travelled with.

As the melee-mare drew her combat knife and walked as silently as her hard hooves could manage after Kestrel, she couldn’t help but feel as though this was the better group for her; there was only one pony she had never before seen in this group as opposed to the almost entirety of Big Rodeo’s group, including the big white buck himself. Besides, this group had Scrap and Sky in it. If the three ponies hadn’t learned how to work together by this point then the groups of friends were a lost cause.