Ghosts of Arlingtrot [Wild Wasteland]

Tiffany poked at the the chandelier for a few moments longer, taking an incredibly close look at it, as if it could contain all the secrets of the world in the shiniest parts of it, that were only loosely hanging off of the mess of metal and glass. Eagerly, the griffon flicked the shiny things more and watched in awe as they swung too and fro.

Then, she heard the ponies talking their strange, strange language again and she made a tiny meep sound, swiping a small claw-full of the shiny thingies and stuffing them into her bag before she gently took off, flying up the stairs before she came to a halt at the top, just behind Rodeo as she landed mostly silently, a light thud after the flapping of wings.

Whilst Rodeo may have had the idea in mind to leave the portraits alone and generally step over them, the curious griffon without a worry in the world found it trivial for them to be all torn up and on the floor.

Picking up one of the first portraits and examining it closely as she used the rounded side of her talons to try and fold torn bits of fabric back into place, Tiffany was able to make out the painting of an elderly stallion with a oversized monocle and a pith helmet on his head, an old rifle gripped in his mouth and somehow sporting a devilish grin that made Tiffany snicker slightly before she looked around at the walls. The walls were pretty barren, so maybe she could hang this painting back up? Maybe all of them could go back up? That would be nice, yes. All the paintings were going to go back up on their walls, Tiffany decided this as she managed to hang the first one, quickly slinking around and picking all the paintings up to put them back up onto the walls, the ones that couldn't be hung up would be leaned carefully against the wall under where they would've gone.

Rodeo stopped when he heard some shuffling, and turned back to spot the new griffon he had never seen before placing the paintings back on the wall. He watched for a moment as she did her thing. It seemed odd to him, how simply fascinating everything seemed to her. Enjoying the little things was certainly a decent mentality to live by, certainly could keep your mind off the more difficult parts of the wasteland which could easily break the mind of anypony. Still, in a time like this, it didn't seem necessary. Time was of the essence.

"Hey, let's try'n stay focused," he said to her, then turned and started back down the rest of the hallway. Again, little did he realize. That if there were any ghosts, putting the pictures back on the walls would have made them very happy. Their possessions from their past lives were not being harmed, but instead returned to their rightful place. Its enough to make anypony happy, not just spirits.

But suddenly, Rodeo stopped as he noticed something. He threw out a front leg to stop the ponies behind him, and leaned over to examine a rug. A rug. It was long, and slightly wider than the hallway. The sides bunched up against the walls on both sides, the pattern made little sense with the room's design or coloration. But the biggest red flag to Rodeo was the center of the rug, drooping down farther than the floor.

Rodeo leaned over, and took the end of the rug in his teeth, then yanked it back. It bunched up at his hooves, and revealed to everypony yet another trap. It was a hole in the floor, it went clean through to the lower level. Rodeo stepped forward and looked down. The room below appeared to be a small bathroom. In the middle of the floor, directly beneath the hole, was a small pile of about a dozen frag mines.

An interesting trap. Rodeo was quite happy he decided to question the odd appearance of the floor and the strange presence of the rug. Otherwise, he would be blown into pieces. "That's the second time Ah've almost died today," Rodeo noted, and then stepped over the hole to continue down the hallway.

Tiffany was pleased with her work, putting all the pictures back before she heard a pony talking, causing her to look at him as he finished saying.... whatever he said, she didn't know what he was trying to tell her, but she continued regardless, cooing to herself as a congratulations as she set the last one up, straightening it out and then following after the pony who had said... well... something to her, silly ponies, why could they not talk a language she understood?

Stopping as Rodeo's leg was held out, Tiffany stood perfectly still and waited patiently for him to do whatever he was doing as he pulled away the rug to reveal a hole. Whatever was in the hole? Treasure? That would be amazing! Lots of shiny, treasurey thingies to look at!

After Rodeo stepped over the hole, Tiffany looked into the hole and saw lights down there, about a dozen lights, they were on metal dicsy things, why were they down there? They looked interesting. Lifting her head and letting out a coo as if to try and catch someone's attention, she'd point down at the frag mines with a questioning look, head tilted to the side. She was either asking what they were or if she could have them. Though, there were bound to be many a portrait still out of their places, so she had to make this quick, she didn't like things not being where they're meant to be.

"It's possible. Ponies have lived in weirder places"

Scraps whispered back to Bakewell after she had whispered to him, before lapsing back into silence as they continued to go toward the, admitted spooky mansion. He still didn't believe it was haunted though. Ghosts are a scientific impossibility, no matter how spooky the mansion was or how weird of a vibe he was getting, there had to be a reasonable explination!

He nodded when the leader of their expedition into the "haunted" cemetery put them into two groups. To be 100% honest he was glad he was in Kes's group. He knew the ponies in it and more importantly he knew from past experience that Kes was a very capable leader. If anyone could get them through this safely it was the big griffon.

Scraps drew his weapons, makings sure both if his pistols were ready and in good condition, which in retrospect never seemed to matter with his weapons, they just kinda did what they pleased, and walked as quietly as he could manage, trotting alongside Bakewell.

Dash had been quiet the entire time up until this point. Thinking mostly about how this place didn't really look like a place where Leafrun could have been taken, that much was obvious. It didn't count as a useless venture per-say for him, because he could help out ponies and creatures who could be his friends. In case he ended up needing a large scale assault force to rescue his brother from his captors... Maybe not, though... Maybe he just wanted some more friends.

Dash had been slightly unconsciously siphoned off into Big Rodeo's group, not that he would complain. He didn't dream of serving under Kestrel's command every night, but he didn't dislike the no-nonsense, practical leadership the big griffon brought to the table, either. He stopped as a female griffon stopped ahead of him, looking into the pit that Rodeo had almost fallen into, earning an unseen facehoof from Dash. Dash got up alongside Tiffany and peered into the hole as well, spotting what Tiffany appeared to be inquiring about, "They're mines... They explode and turn you into a huge mess if you go anywhere near them." Dash said to the griffon.

Night Shade like the group he was in. With kestrel as the leader, things would be kept simple. At least that's what he assumed. Shade felt a bit more secure with this group of ponies rather than Rodeo's group, just because Night Shade liked to keep things simple and serious. From here things should be easy, and he would be outta here in no time.

Tiffany was being spoken to again, causing her to look at the pony who was speaking, his words to her being a jumbled mess of incomprehensibility as he tried to explain what the things with the glowy lights in the hole were. All the griffoness could do was blankly stare as if she had no idea what he was saying, head tilted to the side in confusion, giving a hoot that sounded rather questioning.

All she said, in griffon-tongue, was. "What?" As she stared at Dash, waiting to see if he'd somehow end up spouting the words in griffon-tongue as if by magic. There was probably no chance of that, but she at least hoped for it, and this was a big delay, she needed to get moving if she wanted those glowy lights in the bathroom, more so if she wanted to put whatever she could back where it looked like it was meant to be.

Sky took more interest as she looked all over the place to see, she was ordered to be with Les and couple other ponies she knew cept for one that she didn't really know, but anyway, she just nodded to Rodeo as he went with his group and Sky looked over to Kes and nodded to him. Bottom floor really needs to be cleared out first and she would agree and it would be easy enough for everypony if no one was here.

Sky only nodded as she looked to Kes and nodded to him, with her scoped hunting rifle out, she nodded to his orders and nodded as she followed him to the east wing.

Night Shade saw that Sky had out her rifle. With her and Kestrel in the group, Night Shade might as well take a nap, well not really but they were a force to not be messed with. Shade felt like he was the weak link on his team, especially since he only had a 9 mil pistol. He should try and find another gun after this mission. Hopefully he can gather some decent loot from this place.

Dash scrunched up his nose a bit as it appeared that Tiffany looked at him with a gaze of complete non-understanding, then proceeded to make a noise that Dash swore only a griffon could possibly have the vocal connections inside their necks to make, "Uhhhh...." Dash began, but then Sketch took over and tried to explain what he had just said a little more slowly and with smaller, less slangy words. What prevented Dash from thinking that Sketch was one-upping him was that this was a fairly important issue that the female griffon was ignorant about and had to learn about as quickly as possible, so he appreciated the help, that was, if it did anything either.

Rodeo stood and stared at the ponies as the gathered around the hole and stared at the mines. "Y'all done? We can keep goin'?" he asked when they all seemed to finish talking. Rodeo realized that the griffon couldn't understand what they were saying. He wasn't surprised. He went and picked the one who couldn't understand his orders. He'd have to use gestures or something.

Rodeo turned back and started down the hallway again, waving a hoof in the direction he was moving for the griffon to see. He proceeded on into the large room at the end of the hallway. The first thing he noted was a desk for, what Rodeo had assumed that, before the war had belonged to somepony's secretary. The desk had an old, broken terminal on it. The floor was littered with papers and rubble. There were more skeletons laying about the room. A table had been flipped onto its side to be used as cover. This didn't seem to work, as there was a dead griffon's skeleton behind the table, and bullet holes had gone straight through the wood in the front, and into the wall behind the skeleton.

There was a window that shined some light into the room, and illuminated the dusty air slightly. Rodeo noticed something immediately. A skeleton, one in particular, laying in the middle of the floor. Its hind leg was stuck in a bear trap that seemed to have ripped up through the papers which littered the floor. Awesome... There were papers covering literally every inch of the floor. The room was a minefield, only the mines were bear traps.

Rodeo had also noticed, the skeleton who was caught in the trap, his armor was picked off of his body as well. Whoever took the armor, replaced the pony's leg back into the trap. Rodeo was becoming slightly annoyed by this. He had almost died twice for nothing so far. It was all appearing to become utter bullshit.

Kes and his group advanced down the corridor into the east wing. The marble floor still making the sounds of the pony's hooves echo throughout the halls, but the padded claws and paws of the griffon made very little sound. Immediately to the left and to the right were several doors that passed by the group. One of the doors on the right, was an office that lead to the small bathroom which Rodeo and his group were looking down into where the mines were.

There wasn't much signs of movement in the hallway, with the exception of one pony who's skeleton lay on the floor, picked clean of armor and supplies. He appeared to have been gunned down while running to the end of the east wing. The marble floor bore several marks and notches where bullets hit and jumped. There were a few soot stains from explosions, and one wall on the left side had collapsed into an old office room. Presumably from an explosion.

As the group made it to the end of the corridor, they entered a smaller reception area. There was a desk with a few broken terminals on it. Back before the war, ponies could come here for information. You could've asked where a certain pony was buried in the cemetery so you could visit them, or stick around for a history lesson and a tour guide which was hosted twice a day... until the bombs dropped.

However, it was clearly obvious now, where the pony had been running. Where the rest of the ponies had been. The room wasn't just an information room, it was the final resting place for over two dozen ponies. What appeared to have been over twenty years ago, several ponies had run to this room to make their last stand against... something. The floor was riddled with bullet casings. There was evidence that they had set up barricades and dug themselves in. The trained eye would've been able to see that the battle had gone on for days. Whoever had been after them had pinned them down in the room, and starved them out. When the ponies were too weak to fight back, they were massacred.

The sizes of the skeletons ranged from infant size, to full grown adult. most of the adults were by the entrance. Presumably went down fighting. Several skeletons were mangled and torn apart by explosions, the rest seemed to have fallen to hunger, or bullets. It was a disturbing scene, and the emptyness that filled the room didn't help at all. It was cold, and dark, and the air didn't move at all. The sound of the faintest breather there could be heard from the other side of the room. And all the while, everypony and griffon there just couldn't avoid the feeling- that they were being watched.

Scraps followed Kestrel through the halls, keeping his weapons out as he trotted next to Bakewell, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that they were being watched by some unseen being. That feeling still didn't prove to him in the slightest that there were ghosts! It was probably some demented pony sitting ina room somewhere watching the group with magical cameras or something. Admittedly that wasn't a much better scenario but it was more plausible in Scraps mind.

The scene of struggle in the reception area was unsettling, though not nearly the worst thing Scraps had seen in his adventures. Still Scraps felt sad for the poor ponies that had died here in what appeared to be a struggle that went on for a while. The combination of that amd the now much stronger feeling of being watched caused Scraps to unconsciously move closer to Bakewell as well as cause a very strong urge to move, as fast as possible away from this room.

Rodeo looked about the room, and listened silently as penny talked. What he was going to do... well... Rodeo felt his hoof touch an old paper weight on the floor. Perfect. He took it in his mouth, and tossed it into the papers. It hit the floor with a clack, bounced once, and landed on top of a trap next. The trap jumped through the paper instantly, and its sharp teeth snapped straight into the soft, lead brick that was the former paper weight. The block was cut clean in two, and the closed trap stood on its back, its teeth clamped shut with wads of papers clenched in between.

Rodeo smirked. "Yes," he answered Penny. "If ya can, blow them papers off. Let's try not ta set any of 'em off, though."

Downstairs, Kes and his group could hear the sounds of the paperweight thumping on the floor, and the sound of the trap snapping shut.

Bakewell stared into the slaughter. While it didn’t make the fact that these ponies had been so mercilessly destroyed by a force unknown any better in theory, at least she was only looking at unidentifiable wasteland décor. They didn’t have skin, or coats. They were scarcely identifiable from each other in any way other than pony type and size. This rendered the scene from horrible to simply heartstring tugging.

“Trap.” Bakewell muttered. A room full of dead ponies had several attractions to it; opportunities to ensure the bones were in fact picked clean for scavengers, the urge for a closer look to give the long-dead ponies their due respect for the sentimental (Like Bakewell herself.), sights for the curious, and that feeling of being watched. Whether the watcher was a ghost or a living breathing pony hardly seemed to matter at the moment. Bakewell couldn’t identify what would go wrong with the room, but she knew that something surely would. When she saw Scrap move closer she shuffled slightly nearer to him as well, moving close enough for their sides to touch. His presence helped anchor Bakewell and keep her thoughts focused on the here and now, rather than the dead ponies and mysterious watcher.

Suddenly there was a thump, followed by a snap. Bakewell winced. Definitely traps.

Jasmine followed the group close behind. She felt so safe to be with Rodeo, he seemed to be a very strong and capable pony. Although she would've like to be with Kes's group as well, he seemed so nice since she has yet to see him say something negative. Plus Sky the security pony would be nice to work with, but she knew that Rodeo would keep her safe.

Jazz spent most of the time observing the finer details of the building. There were many times she had to bite her tongue when she would recognize a finer point of the building, such as the art style the moldings were inspired from. Aside from the eerie remains, she found the ruins to be full of intrigue and mystery, though she was forced to observe most things closely because of her terrible eye sight.

As she was observing the portraits of war hero's long past she heard the griffoness that accompanied her group say clearly in griffon "what". Jasmine had studied the griffon language in school growing up, never really seeing any use to knowing it other than reading their poetry which seemed to be full of fierce vibrant language. The entire time she trailed the griffon, wanting to try a hoof at practicing her regretably limited skill in the language. She slowly tried to work up her courage however had trouble bringing herself to saying anything as the danger of the building threw off her energy.

Eventually she saw Rodeo and Pendant trying to move papers to reveal traps and offered a helping hoof.

"I would be happy to blow the paperth away with my wingth if it'd help!" Jasmine stretched out her wings getting ready to blow the papers.

Kira could only stand and watch the room and all the skeletons that decorated the room. She had seen skeletons of ponies before, they where all over the wasteland but it was just something different about this just something she could not put her talon on. She could not tell if they had died before or after the bombs fell but it was just an presence that laid over the room.

The gryphoness took a careful step in to the room taking care where she placed her steps, the warning about traps and the room of mines made her be extra careful she did not want to walk in to a room full of traps so she took care.

This place was bad, really bad and she was seriously questioning why she was in this place. There is no turning back now so she kept walking in to the room ever vigilant.

Kestrel furrowed his brow beneath his mask as he scanned the room and its dark contents, standing perfectly still as he did so. As a creature of war, and a heavy past in Fillydelphia Kestrel had seen some very disturbing things and gotten through it all without so much as blinking.

This though...this didn't feel right. He new the tactics of it all, and they could be appraised for their simplicity. Trap an opponent, and slaughter them when they are weak. It was a tactic he himself had used...but never on groups. These ponies, if the bullet casings were anything to go by, had been trapped here for days. They had suffered.

Kestrel could not approve of that. His brutality, his utter remorsless methodology when killing, it was all so that those that fell by Kestrel's hand would not suffer long, if at all. He made things quick, simple, effective. This? This was not quick, suffering had been prolonged far more that it should have.

The feeling of being watched washed over Kestrel again as he walked a few steps into the room, carefully scanning for any traps of objects of interest or value. The air was dead...the energy gone...this place was not natural. It lacked anything that could even remotely be called life.

In all his years of wandering, Kestrel had never found a place like this. It was...alien to him. Strange to the highest degree.

If he found nothing of interest in his search he would turn and begin walking back down the hall towards the west wing, muttering a single low statement as he passed the others once again.

"Rest peacefully."

Nothing of interest was necessarily found as Kes scanned the room. The floor was covered in debris, and old papers and files. As he walked, the feeling of being watched suddenly vanished. A sudden weak gust of wind stirred the dust through the air back out the exit, as though something had just ran through it. Then, just as quickly as the event began, it stopped. Everything settled and the room went back to being dead. Only now, without the feeling of being watched, it truly seemed lifeless.

Then, a sudden PLINK noise was heard. A rope suddenly went taught and snapped under Kes' front claw. It had been buried beneath some rubble and papers. The rope ran to the wall where it climbed to the ceiling, and it quickly ran through its pulley at the top of the ceiling. A desk was suspended above the entrance they just came through, which dropped down and blocked the way out. Next was kind of interesting.

The weight of the desk had kept the rope tight, and the rope was holding several unactivated frag mines up against the high ceiling, as well as frag grenades. The mines and grenades dropped and landed all around Kes and his group.

Though seemingly impossible to avoid, there was cover. To the group's left was the reception desk. Sturdy oak and granite with a metal frame. A few ponies could hide behind it. To the right were a few classrooms. If they were quick, the doors could be knocked in and the group could take cover inside the rooms.

"We just gotta get them papers off the traps ta get through, y'all can work together er whatever ya want, we just need the papers moved," Rodeo said, his low voice hushed, still trying to be quiet.

Dash nodded to Rodeo and drew his .357, watching the group's flank in the direction they had just come from. It would be disastrous even if some pony came along even to help them and fell into the pit of mines. He wasn't sure about their explosive yield, but it would certainly blow out some sort of structural strength the aging house had by having interior walls.

Tiffany suddenly heard yet another pony trying to talk to her, speaking slower and making gestures, the slowness of the speech didn't help make much sense, other then "Fwoosh", but the gestures at least made her understand and give a worried look back down the hole.

Then she pointed down there again and made a questioning "fwoosh" noise before she stepped over the hole. What sort of creature would put things that go fwoosh down in a hole? That's not nice. Regardless, Tiffany ended up leaving the hole alone and heading down the hallway, looking around at her surroundings with greater interest before she realised that Rodeo had stopped again, looking into the room she wanted to go into.

Other ponies had stopped as well, but no one was walking in and Tiffany saw why, there was a skeleton, picked clean, with a beartrap around it's leg, and the papers litering the floor were there to hide the others, as was shown as Rodeo threw a paper-weight into the room, causing one to snap shut and slice hte weight in two.

Whilst the others were just talking about moving the papers, Tiffany squeezed her way through to the front and opened up her wings to start beating them, she knew what bear traps were, she'd seen a few trap others out in the world, so she knew to get the papers cleared away even if she didn't understand all the pony speak.

Her wings, being larger than a pegasus' wings would be more effective in blowing the papers away as she worked to clear away the scattered papers.

Kira watched the assortment of explosives falling down in front of them, it was just great that they would have to walk right in to a trap in the first room well at least she did not do it this time. They would only have about 5 second to react before the room would be fill with shrapnel. The gryphoness grabbed Sky and Ark before the mass of mines and grenades would exploded and threw them in to a classroom before she followed them as well.