I, Zephaniah Mann, being of sound mind, so hereby vow to haunt the earth as a horrifying poltergeist, until such time as I have quenched my all-consuming thirst for vengeance against he world, and especially against my dunderhead sons.

If it takes a brave man to admit he is in error, then surely a man willing to admit both of his sons are stumble-bum muttonheads is twice as brave. It was they who convinced me to spend the entirety of my sizeable fortune purchasing land in the unclaimed frontier of the Americas, in the hope of expanding our weapons concern to the uncolonized westernmost regions. Many tales did they whisper in my too credulous ears, of gravel as far as the eye can see, for any man with strong back and iron spirit to harness. Long did I dream of transforming these virgin lands, and its vast holes, into the worlds most majestic and profitable pits of gravel. But when at last we arrived, we only found "fool's gravel" -- my nitwit sons had purchased a continent-sized parcel of sand! It is here in this wind-swept desert hell that I fear I shall breathe my last.

Since moving from my Cambridgeshire estate to the untamed frontier I have contracted putrid fever, bilious fever, blackwater fever, green fever, spotted fever -- even womb fever, as a complication from a serious bout of superfluous uterus. On our sailing trip to the new world I contracted white plague, marasmus, sweating sickness, deplumatious tumors of the eyelids, pleurisy membranous croup and scarlet rash; during the drive west I contracted brain itch, stomatitus, and blood poisoning; since settling our estate I have contracted falling sickness, walking sickness, stationary sickness, shingles, jaundiced spine and skull bloat. I contracted scirvener's palsy in the writing of this last will & testament. Possessing no paper in this godforsaken frontier, I have penned this on my own skin, which has sloughed off in quantity since contracting impetigo.

To the foul-smelling, uneducated simpletons of the untamed Americas, I leave only this curse -- as weapons have caused my downfall, so will it engineer the downfall of any soul who puts one to use near my restless grave. Shoot over my bones, and I shall visit upon you a haunting the likes of which you have never seen.

To my dearest maidservant Elizabeth I leave the rest and residue of my estate -- including all deeds, accounts, debts public and private -- my tobacco plantation -- and what remains of the fortune my addle-pated sons have squandered. Find the gravel that I was unable to find! Honor me by placing it inside a pit!

To my faithful aide and tracker, Barmabas Hale of the savage Australias, I divest complete control of the Mann & Sons Munitions Concern. You procured the poppy flowers required for the medicines that gave me succor from the pains of my many warring ailments. It has been pleasant to not shriek myself to sleep.

To my layabout, brain defective sons, Blutarch and Redmond, I leave the greatest curse of all -- partnership. What land I have purchased in this new world is to be split evenly between you both. You have wasted your lives bickering over nothing and so I leave you dimwits something of consequence over which to feed.

Lastly, to [obscured text due to sand] I leave the entirety of my [obscured text due to sand] and swear you to utmost secrecy in its keeping.

God and His angels will have to drag me screaming to Heaven. I do not want to die! Damn you all to hell!

Zephaniah Mann

Yee, that's what I found here, in Equestria. Like hell I know what tha' means, but know this, little petty alicorn princesses, and I say it to all four of you, you're in trouble, because the Headless Horseless Horsemann is here along with the ghost of Zepheniah, and ye are in trouble.

And with the Headless Horseless Horsemann comes the REDs and BLUs, yer in a hell of trouble. Better start making fortifications.

And with the teams, comes Grey Mann, and his robots. Don't ask me what kind of trouble you are in, maybe you could buy them so they will work for you, as they are mercenaries?

There is one thing you should pray for.

That Merasmus and Saxton Hale don't come here. Next Chapter: (4) Meet the DemoPAN! Estimated time remaining: 11 Minutes