(STORY EXTRACT)
 
We turned a corner, and I had to fight back the urge to vomit. Several bodies lay strewn about the road, crushed under the collapsed buildings, some free, though their coats were charred and speckled by fragments of debris that had been flung by the force of the explosion. A few whimpered, making feeble attempts to free themselves as they struggled against their wounds. A pony in a doctor’s coat came running around the corner, a large bag balanced on her back as she hurried towards one of the injured ponies. She looked over to us as she threw the bag on the ground, digging around inside for a scalpel and a roll of gauze. “You got here fast. Unless you’re dropping your meds off here, get your asses to the Triage. Probably the only building that survived this shit.” She began to pick out the larger chunks of metal from the pony’s chest, his breathing ragged and uneven.
 
I reached into my saddlebags, pulling out a few healing potions that had still been stashed inside before placing them on the ground beside her. Picking up our pace, we rushed towards the Triage, only barely able to find our way among the ruins of the buildings. The hospital that held the Triage was battered by the blast, several sections of the wall facing the center of town having been pockmarked by the bricks and debris thrown in the explosion. Despite this, it was still one of the more intact structures standing, and a small crowd of ponies had gathered out in front of it. We tried to push through the crowd, a few ponies parting to let us through, others barely able to stand and needing others to help move them aside.