The Price of Knowledge (Patreon)

Note. To the best of my knowledge this is not based on  any existing Fallout Equestria storyline, nor does it follow any  particular plot in Fallout 4. This is just the narrative that popped  into my head as I worked on this piece.

    Moondancer cursed under her breath as she tossed aside water-stained, torn, burnt, and bullet riddled book. Once it  probably had been a treasure trove of knowledge, but now it was beyond rescue. Still her expedition had not been a total waste of time. She had found a dictionary in very usable condition. An introductory volume to organic chemistry, and a manual on cabinetry that looked very instructive. 

    This was her 3rd trip to this locale. She was unsure how these and many, many more books had ended up hidden in the attic of this abandoned warehouse. What had been the local library had long been reduced to charred, demolished carcass over a century ago. All she knew is that these books were helping nopony moldering away in this ruin. Books were only valuable when their information could be accessed and used. Like in the Ponyville Library; in fact the Mayor was paying top caps for the books Link 

     Unfortunately this building was within the territory of a band of Raiders. So every journey here was a dangerous infiltration operation. It was why she could only take a handful books each trip. Stealth, speed, mobility were critical to success. 

     In fact as she slipped the last book into a former canvas shopping bag she heard the sound of voices and hoofsteps on the floors below her. Even though she couldn't make out their exact words the amount of cursing and swearing and tone of voice told her they were Raiders. Carefully she withdrew her PDW from its holster and slowly extended its shoulder stock.

     Cautiously the mare crawled out from under the collapsed water tank. This was tedious and troublesome but the tank also hid the access ladder that led up to the attic. Moondancer was positive it was this fact had hidden this cache of books from the violent, uncaring outside world.  

     The mare stopped at the end of hallway and listened to the sounds of the recent arrivals. They didn't appear to be aware of her presence at the moment, but that could change in an instant. From the numerous voices Moondancer knew that direct confrontation would be suicidal. Instead stealth and her knowledge of local terrain was going to be more important. Slowly she retreated back beneath the water tank and waited. 

     FYI. The weapon in her hand is a Polish PM-63 Rak PDW from the Cold War. Our friend Ian over at Forgotten Weapons has done a couple of videos on it. Link, Link