The inside of the medical center was a bit more unsettling in my opinion than the outside. The walls were lined with several variants of plants, though the backwall had been removed, as well as the room behind it, instead showing a longer corridor that was boarded up through two more rooms. At a desk near us however, a pony of white fur and black stripes (or was it black fur with white stripes?). Was he a Zebra? He was facing away from us, looking towards the back at a black and grey feathered... Griffon?"

" 'Ey man! Watch da' Flytrap, lest ye become it's next snack!" the Zebra shouted in an heavy accent I couldn't identify, his words slurring ever so slightly.

The Griffon ducked as one of the plants tried to bite at him from the ceiling, and didn't waste time in throwing a hunk of something green into its mouth, "I know Zem. I know, also you got customers it seems." The Griffon waved at us before he began trimming the leaves off of a gnarled looking bush of dark brown.

The Zebra turned back to us, revealing to my shock, that his face's left side was covered in wood and fungus. He offered us a half smile as he took in the sight of us, "Cait! Long time no sigh'. Almost thought ya' were dead. Hardly a week goes by where I'm not patchin' ya up."

Cait rolled his eyes, "Going for a record." he shrugged to me, "Helps to have a third member of the dog squad though." Scrapyard barked his agreement.

Zem nodded, "Goin' to introduce me to your friend?"

Cait shoved me forward and my gaze fell to the floor, Zem rose his eyebrow before it softened, " 'Ey there child. No need to be afraid of Doctor Zem. I don' bite."

"She's from a place that used her kind for a science experiment of some sort." Cait shot out, "Anyway, her name's Aria, also the 'lovebug' Mr.Hoofington Refers to."

Zem nodded sympathetically, "Ah' so she 'as no love of scientists. Well that's not what I am luckily." My gaze shifted back off of the floor and up to Zem's as my hair provided him view of only one eye I had uncovered, his smile widened, "I'm a herbalist, brewer of potions meant to aide rather than harm. I'm Zem by de' way, and the Klutz over there is Vinewing." he finished, offering his hoof to me.

I didn't quite trust him though Cait and Scrapyard were familiar with him. I shook his hoof slowly regardless, moderately surprised by the gentle grip the Zebra stallion gave me. His gaze shifted over to Cait, "What'cha 'ere for anyway? I doubt it is ta' just to meet up."

I heard Cait chuckle, "Needed to get rid of a small surplus of rad aways. While having plenty is a good thing, too many clogs up our bag spaces."

Zem gestured for Cait to show the supplies, and we did, taking about half of each of our bags worth of potions out and piling it on Zem's desk. Zem grinned, a wave of cheerfulness flowing out of him enough for two ponies, "I was just running low, as always, on Rad-Away's. too many of those silly cultists wanderin' too close to their bright flame."

He pulled out a few cartons of cigarettes and a bag of bits, tossing them both to Cait, who caught it in his magic and put the first away, but threw the later to me. Needless to say, with my concentration more concerned about how Zem was able to talk with a piece of wood growing out of the side of his face, I caught the bag with the side of my face. Cait grinned apologetically as I rubbed my cheek, trying my best to glare at him. He gave a cheeky grin before changing my interest with his return, "What's the word on their operations here anyway?

Zem gestured out his window towards the cultists, "What is there to say? They worship the dang thing as always intense enough to make me think they're goin' to throw themselves upon it if it would satisfy their 'sacred' flame." He rolled his eyes, "they are goin' through my supply of rad-away fast enough that we 'ad to start up farm in the second floor for just the ingredients used in making that potion. Anyway, anything else I can do for ya?"

Cait shrugged and looked at me, I asked quietly, "Do you have anything to recommend?"

Zem raised an eyebrow, "Besides medicine and the occasional gun, I do have a selection of medical spellbooks for sale."

I perked up at that, "Medical spellbooks?"

Zem grinned, Cait however sighed and mouthed 'I told you so' to Scrapyard. Scrap however gave a goofy grin and licked Cait. The Zebra Herbalist span in his chair and leapt off, moving to an cabinet that I hadn't noticed which was just covered in thick vines. With a firm tug the door opened revealing a few bookshelves full of multicolored dirty books. Several rows were nothing but burnt ones but the upper rows looked more intact, "I pride myself a collector of sorts." Zem explained, "A hundred caps per spell. Five hundred for a spell book though how many spells each one contains is beyond me. Seriously thick amount per page though." He remarked off-hoof, "

He moved out of the way so I could look, several copies of each book remained in each shelf and I counted my caps, 1285, Two books and a spells worth, if I only wanted to keep a few of my caps. The first book I choose was one labeled 'Medical Spells for Beginners', a good place to start I thought. It was thicker than any textbook I ever saw and weighed five pounds with a cover harder than stone. But I bet it would be worth it in the end. I scrolled through the next few rows of books, eyeing over books that had covers like 'Economical Medical magic' and 'Magic for magical Minotaurs'. I sighed, ready to give up as I reached the burnt books. My keen eye spotted something however, I moved the burnt books out of the way and pulled out a muted pink book barely as thicker than a magazine, it's cover was faded but the words was still clear, "The Pranksters Toolbox." I read it aloud. I flipped through it, noting that it was missing it's back half, though there was a spell who's description depicted a large amount of ponies dancing as well as another which depicted the image of a pony speaking, but the voice was going through a funnel and coming out larger. "how much?" I asked Zem, who eyed the slightly burnt and torn magazine as though it was a burnt book, "Ten caps." he replied.

With both books purchased and caps to spare I bid goodbye to the shop keeper and his assistant as we left, Cait chuckled at my excitement, "Someone likes books." he said, Scrapyard rubbing against him before moving to give me a lick to the cheek, I stopped a moment to ruffle Scrap's fur before giving him a wide smile, "What? I love books."

It was true in a way, between drills and classes there wasn't much for a Changeling to do in the Stable. We had a few hobbies we could chose to do, some of us made friends with other classmates or signed up for sports. But those were all monitored by scientists. Something I had tended to avoid as much as possible, instead finding solace through their regulated supply of books. Most of it was history or nonfiction depicting various ponies in heroic action doing good things, defeating evil villains or the like. Though never spell books or books the scientists themselves wouldn't approve of... Which consisted of a lot of things.

"anything else we need to do?" I asked Cait and he nodded, "Well there is a few things I want to check out, though I bet you would like to head back to our rooms and read your books." I nodded and he fished out a key from his bag and tossed it to me, "Here. Room 38-B is yours. Just make sure to let us in within a few hours. If someone comes knocking make sure it's me before unlocking the door. Take Scrap with you to be safe."

"Expecting trouble?" I asked, hoping for the contrary.

Cait shrugged, a faint air of nervousness coming off of him, "Not in particular, just better to be safe than sorry. People come here to be safe from the wasteland, though living in a town has it's own share of troubles. Especially when you have a religious cult as the government for it."

I nodded and we separated. I myself heading for the Tavern with Scrapyard and Cait was heading towards the large building all the robed ponies were streaming in and out of. I wondered as Scrap and I traveled back down the street what Cait had to do in there but the books clutched in my green magic were of more importance to me at the moment. I put the books away for now in my bag and looked around. As I passed by more and more buildings I noticed several of the residents were blocking the way, and the sounds of fighting beyond them. Curiosity and military training kicked into gear and I wormed my way through before hearing a voice, masculine and whimpering, "P-please stop."

I finally pushed myself up to the front in order to view what was going on. A dirty stallion in Mercenary Barding was on his back with another pony looming over him. The stallion was whimpering his gaze locked upon the figure, my gaze shifted up becoming aware of the well armored mare. Her armor was bright orange and made primarily of metal that smoothed out in tear drop like scales. Several armored plates decorated her chest and underbelly as her battle saddle strapped two folded but easily deployable looking rifles of a caliber I couldn't identify. Her shoulder pads curved upwards into two sharp spikes, one on either side that was tinged a dark red that turned black in the shade of the building.

Her helmet was a featureless solid peace, a no doubt bulletproof dark glass dome that hid her face which had been painted orange, leaving just enough of the faceplate uncovered to give it the look of a demented jack-o-lantern from the few stories of Nightmare Night I had read in the stable. The rest of her armor was painted in jagged black stripes which somehow added to her terrifying stature. Though despite all of the bulk her armor added, I couldn't help but notice she still stood a few inches shorter than the average pony.

So this is the mare that the street colt had warned me about... Again the stallion begged the mare for mercy and the figure wordlessly stared at him. She leaned down moving her face close to his. I could hear her audibly, "And this is for the Nightmares." she stomped on something and all the stallions around me winced. Did she just? His screams confirmed it. Yep. I felt pale. Don't get in the way of the orange mare. I took one last peak at the orange dressed mare noting her wings and lack of armor along her black haired tail. Not power armor, but dang close.

The crowd started to disperse as she went on her way, eventually a few settlers dragged the... crippled... stallion away and I managed to slip into the Tavern. There was several ponies inside, clearly oblivious to the events that had happened just down the street. There was stallions and mares of all shapes and sizes in the Tavern. Most of them with drinks of various shades of semitransparent brown. There were various tables as well, some with cards on them, others with dice, even a roulette table decorated another corner. I felt intensely aware of myself as I passed through the center of the tavern, straight for the stairs on the opposite side, Scrapyard trailing behind me as we navigated through the taverns patrons.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we got through the otherside unmolested by anything. Too much in too little time, I thought, and went up the stairs. It took a few minutes to find the right room, but with Scrapyards help it wasn't instead an hour. He must of been here before, I realized. That or he's just psychic. I fumbled momentarily with the key and unlocked the door with an audible click and winced as the rusty hinges screeched at us when we swung it open. No one would creep this door open without this door making a lot of noise. I entered within the relatively clean confines within, a living room attached to three other rooms, two missing their doors, and the third who's door was open revealing a rather shoddy but still clean, bathroom.

The living room itself was the homeliest thing I had seen since my own drab room in the stable. While I merely had a bunk and desk, this room had a couch that dwarfed my old bed and a coffee table that looked slightly dusty, but clean. Along the walls were a few lockers and a painting of a steel clad stallion rearing up on a hill surrounded by balefire. Rather motivational, but the entire room lacked a mares touch. Not that I could do anything about the room with what I had. I peeked into the bedroom and grinned as I spotted two sets of bunk beds that decorated the bedroom along with two simple sarsaparilla crates that had been fashioned into trunks at the foot of the beds. Scrapyard hopped onto one of them and I claimed the bunk above him, settling down my saddlebags and bringing both books up to study. With any luck I'd be able to memorize at least one spell before Cait returned. I opened the book to it's first spell and began to read.

Xp footnote: 75% until next level.

Spell learnt: Medical Spells for Beginners: Medical : Expend a small amount of magic to heal injuries in a glow similar to telekinesis around your target injury. Ineffective for massive trauma but great for those pesky blade slashes and bullet holes! Expends 10 MP per 15 HP restored. Does not restore crippled limbs.

Spell learnt: Pranksters Toolbox: Singing Fevor I: Less magically resistant foes who understand Equestrian can be magically induced to sing a song, lessening combat effectiveness of your enemies or raising your allies by a maximum of 25%. Can only be used once per week due to the massive drain on magic that can occur if over used. Doesn't work on nonspeaking or highly magic resistant targets. The second level of this spell will allow you to effect stronger creatures of higher magical resistance as well as robotic enemies.

Next Chapter: Chapter 11: Disgruntled Robots Estimated time remaining: 13 Hours, 45 Minutes