A ref sheet of my OCs ‘Fallout Equestria’ version.

Background story:

He is the latest descendant of a Cloudsdale pegasus family whose ancestors immigrated from Germaneigh long before the war.

As it was custom in his family, he enlisted into the Enclave military as soon as he was old enough.

While quickly climbing the ranks, he always remembered the honorary rules of combat for germaneighan soldiers.

Among other things they state that “a soldier fights honorably for it’s kin; senseless brutality and destruction are foreign to him”, “no surrendering enemy is to be harmed”, “injured enemies are to be treated with dignity, medical personal is not to be interfered with”, “prisoners are not to be mistreated or threatened; none of their belongings except weapons, schematics or battleplans are to be taken of them”, and “the civilian population is not to be involved in combat nor harmed in any way”.

Although he always honored those rules, his comrades thought rather less of them.

They used to strictly follow Enclave indoctrination.

Usually he just dismissed it, but one incident made him see clear.

During one of their patrols below the clouds, he spotted a caravan being under attack by raiders.

He didn’t have to think twice to come to their help.

Despite his squad not following, the raiders were no match for him and his skills.

While he looked after the caravaners, he saw his squad moving in and starting to plunder both the Raider corpses and the Caravan.

Any caravan guard that tried to stop them was struck down, delivering finishing blows to the ones not immediately killed, restraining others that tried to come to their help.

Only Irons direct order made them stand down, but that only because they knew he could even take them on if they didn’t follow.

After ensuring the rest of the caravaners was safe and taken care of, he lead his squad back above the clouds.

Afterwards, his soldiers straight up reported him to the superiors, which caused them to immediately alienate him.

He was dragged out and publicly shunned, which only worsened when he stood up for his beliefs and defended his actions.

He realized that their minds have been poisoned by the indoctrination, his outcasting was inevitable.

He was taken to be branded as Dashite.

He took it without even flinching, willing to take it if it meant he could keep his beliefs and ideals.

Under the branding, his old CM, an Iron Cross, faded, but remained visible through the burns, representing his decisiveness.

Before he was to be forever thrown out, he slipped away and made a dash for his home, quickly gathering his most valued belongings: the old rifle, refitted for semi-automatic fire and belt-feeding for use on a battle saddle, and uniform that has been passed down in his family for generations.

He took all supplies he could, filling his flask, saddle-breadbag and ammo container, and made a run for it.

Barely reaching the towns end before his pursuers, he dove through the clouds and down into the wasteland.

Now, as a wastelander, he travels the land, offering his service as bodyguard for caravaners or as a mercenary for settlements in need.

Despite his mercenary business, he never insits on payment.

Sometimes he is content with simple trading as payment, sometimes he does it in exchange for a meal and a bed for the night, sometimes he does it for free.

His beliefs mean more to him than some simple caps.

(Before you point it out, yes I know this is a lot like Calamity’s story. He is my favorite character (I somewhat see myself in him), so I drew quite some inspiration from him.)