Could you guys look over this? It's the first 500 words of the story i'm writing. I hope everypony likes it :)
The wasteland can break you. Turn you into a monster. Take away what made you a pony. Many have already fallen. Raiders are a perfect example of those that turn to cruelty because they have nothing else. Some have gotten off much better, such as LilPip and her band of do gooders. This is a tale about one of the unfortunate. And how a friend can help you see the bright side.
Chapter 1: Fall
I love this gun. It really is a great gun.
I watched as the raider fell to the ground, a scorched pocket in his head where the electricity hit him. What remained of her mane stood on end and smoked. It was very funny.
From what he could see, there were only two Disciples left. One fuming mad for me killing their ally, the other putting a magazine into his RAD Gun. The gun looked like every other gun in the wasteland. Utter crap. Last two. I turned the power setting on my gun to Bolt. Oh, look. They're charging me. One even started firing at me. The bullets failed to penetrate the armored radiation barding. Their fast firing guns. The bullets left small, slightly glowing indentations in the suit. Damn radiation bullets.
The discharger of the gun flared. A supercompressed cylinder of energy flew halfway across the courtyard and sailed gracefully into the raiders skull.
The other continued her charge, swinging her RAD Sword and yelling out religious crap about who knows what. She reached me around the same time her head dissolved due to the amazing power of lightning.
With the last raider down, the courtyard grew eerily quiet. Now, Scavenging. Later, zapping cultists. The complex had a small courtyard and a decent sized building in the center. The door had fallen open in the conflict, and the inside looked like a...well...it didn't look like anything. It looked like nothing. Being the smart pony I am, I activated my light spell and stepped inside the dark, unknown, and dangerous enemy building.
Inside, a few light flickers from dim panels. On the opposite side of the room, the door to an office. On either sides are the sleeping quarters and armory. And I know all of this due to the convenient labeling above each door. That was kind if them, the cultist freaks. I walked straight towards the armory. Somepony had been kind enough to leave the door open. Inside, a room filled with the Disciples trademarked RAD weapons. Guns, swords, and rocket launchers. Carefully, i magically lift whatever I can and place it in a sack hanging from my horn. Heavy, but manageable.
This was too easy. Get in, Steal Weapons, Get out, Sell to towns at inflated prices. Not even much resistance. I had caught them during their morning prayers, but there should have been more of them.The thought was very troubling. Even more so when I saw the large group of disciples waiting at the gated entrance to the compound.
They spotted me, the leader, a massive pony magically wielding a broadsword, shouted out "Send him to the Bale!" And with that command, the sword wielding loons charged, some bombarding me with religion and such. The gunners stayed back, waiting to open fire as soon as the group dispersed.