What happens if you’re just another salespony in postapocalyptia, a blacksmith by and large focused on running your store day by day? Other ponies can fight and die in the "good fight," but for you, trade caravans come and go, random repair work around town keeps food on the table, and every so often you make enough at once to treat yourself. And in the stillness and privacy of the night, the ghost of a smile graces your muzzle as you work at your forge, making your mark on the Wasteland in small ways. But... you've gotten a bit complacent with this safe life in the Bayou. And all at once, that security drops out from under you. The debt of a pony's life rests on your hooves, and all you've got are the skills that let you earn a living fixing a pistol to pay it off.