//------------------------------// // 3 - Into the Storm // Story: The Needle // by Rambling Writer //------------------------------// If nothing else, Needle Vale certainly delivered on its weather. It was simply relentless, pounding the group from all directions nonstop. Snow was whipped through the air at incredible speeds, and it only got worse as they descended to the valley floor. It was like swimming through a murky riptide. Everyone needed to yell to each other to be heard over the wind. It wasn’t a place for the soft. And as the group pushed on down, they gave no indication that they were the least bit soft. As she broke a path through the snow, the cold gnawed at Daring’s bones, but she let it choke and die on them. Stalwart and Rangifera started leaning against each other for support. Fallende did a sort of sideways-diagonal hopskip that looked strange but let her cut through the wind easily. Even Windrose, who Daring admitted probably would’ve been the weak link, casually muscled on through without falling behind. The slope to the valley floor wasn’t too steep, but the low visibility meant it was treacherous all the same. Several times, Daring stopped to let Fallende poke her way down a slope. At one point, she had to be pulled back to avoid blindly stepping off into nothing over a cliff that the blowing snow had rendered invisible. But they made decent time, and after an hour or so, they finally reached flattish ground. Squinting into the blizzard, Daring grinned to herself. She’d taken the first step: getting into Needle Vale. Now, it was just a matter of time. Now, she was in her element. Now, the expedition could well and truly begin. “So, um, now what?” asked Windrose over the wind. Daring experienced the emotional equivalent of losing control of a flight and divebombing into the ground face-first. She’d been so invested in finding out what was in Needle Vale that she’d totally forgotten how she would do the finding out. Looking for lost artifacts had legends, book research, all that jazz. Here, she had nothing more than an isolated valley, at least for the time being. Which, in itself could be a benefit… A plan began forming in her mind. “You… do know what you’re doing, right?” said Windrose nervously. “No, she doesn’t,” said Fallende. “And I wouldn’t have joined up if she did. We’re going off the beaten path, you idiot. You can’t plan on anything until you find it.” “Hey,” said Windrose, her ears back, “there’s no need for-” “Needle Vale’s supposed to be fifteen miles long, right?” Daring said loudly. “About, yes,” Stalwart said, equally loudly. “But that’s one of the longer guesses. A lot of pegasi think it’s closer to ten. What with all the storms, it’s hard to get a good feel for it from above, so those guesstimates can vary quite a lot, and since Needle Vale’s so unimportant, no one’s really felt the need to get accurate-” “So I say we follow the eastern foothills until we get to the other end of the valley,” continued Daring. “Let’s say it’ll take two or three days in this weather. We don’t worry about looking for anything. Then we can weave back and forth across the Needle on the way back, doing our best to find something out of the ordinary. Sound good?” The few sounds Daring heard over the wind seemed to be affirmative. Everyone was nodding, at least. Fallende and Windrose were very resolutely not looking at each other, and Rangifera semi-casually stepped between them and nudged them away from each other. “Good,” Daring said. She paused; no objections. And so she set off to the east. There wasn’t much to see in Needle Vale, even without the blizzard. The trees that made themselves known were skinny and clawed and half-starved, begging for a little bit of magic, just a little, to help them grow. They were sparse, so thinly spaced they barely qualified as a forest, and didn’t come far up the valley’s slopes. And then there were the pillars: giant stone columns, twenty feet across or more, that randomly dotted the valley. They were rough, like boulders had been compressed together to make them, and stood around fifty feet tall. And that was it, yard after yard, mile after mile. Any other landmarks were swallowed up by the snow on the ground and the snow in the air, and it was hard to tell one stretch of valley from the next. It certainly didn’t look like a place that had stories told about it, and it’d be easy to miss something small in the storm. But Daring had a feel for these sorts of things, honed by year after year of treasure-hunting. She knew when she was missing something, when she needed to look more closely. It was what had poked her to Needle Vale in the first place. She wasn’t getting that yet. As the group trudged on, according to whatever sixth sense she had, Needle Vale was so far exactly the wasteland it appeared to be, with nothing special about it. So far. The scenery was so monotonous and the blizzard so hard that Daring barely noticed it getting dimmer until Rangifera spoke up, saying, “Do you think we should set up camp soon?” “Camp sounds good,” said Windrose. “Sure,” Fallende said with a shrug. “I could definitely use a breather,” said Stalwart. “Time flies when you’re doing the same thing over and over and over, doesn’t it? And yet it drags at the same time. I can barely remember-” “There’s a cliff not too far ahead,” said Daring. It was barely visible, but she couldn’t mistake that black smear. “Let’s stop there. It should give us a little shelter.” And it did. Only a little, but these conditions, even a little was worth a lot. The wind dropped significantly once they neared the base of the cliff and the snow was noticeably thinner. Stalwart pulled several collapsible metal rods from her bag and jammed them into the dirt in a large circle. One spell-casting later, and the wind within the circle was practically nil. With nothing screaming in her ear anymore, Daring almost felt like her hearing had been amplified. “Rune-engraved shelter,” she explained as she helped clear the area of the worst of the snow. “A neat enchantment my old CO taught me. One of those jerkish nice types, she was. Or is it nice-ish jerk types? Helpful when she needed to be, but more prone to yelling until you ran away with your tail between your legs. Not a bad sort, but she was very hard to get along with. When I first got promoted, she-” “Do they need any upkeep?” interrupted Daring. “Or will they last the night?” “Oh, they’ll last much longer than the night!” Stalwart said with a laugh. “Runes are tricky, what with all the preparation that goes into making them — burn a branch from a yew tree chopped down at midnight beneath a full moon and use the ash to inscribe the rune, really? — but once you get them down, they’ll practically last forever. I actually made these almost a decade ago, and it’s like I made them yesterday! Of course, you need to protect the rune itself, but-” The moment she’d heard about runes, Fallende’s ears went up. Now, she cleared her throat. “You, um, wouldn’t happen to have a spare, would you?” she asked. “I’d like to take a look at it.” “Sure, sure!” said Stalwart. “Give me a moment to find it…” Perhaps the greatest thing to come from the wind shelter was the capability to light a fire. Once her tent was up, Rangifera went out, gathered enough branches from the ground and the nearest trees for a good-sized bundle, magically dried them off, and soon had a fire crackling happily away. After hours of getting pressed in by the cold and with the light rapidly fading, it was practically heaven. No one said much as they sat around the fire, warming their food and eating, but no one seemed particularly down. Just tired. After reducing a roasted carrot to pulp, Fallende swallowed and said, “So which one of us is gonna be the wuss who says it’s too hard and we need to go back first?” “Me,” Stalwart and Windrose said simultaneously. They looked at each other for a moment. “You explain first,” said Stalwart. “I’ve already said we need to go back,” said Windrose, “and I still think we sho-” “But,” Rangifera said, “not because it’s too hard. You want to turn back because you think we’re looking for nothing. You earth ponies are supposed to be super tough, right? I’d’ve thought that ‘it’s too hard’ would be the one reason for turning back that you didn’t give.” She nibbled down a crust of toast, saying, “What do you think about the weather, my self-deprecating surveyor?” Windrose looked out into the encroaching gloom, at the raging storm. “Well,” she said hesitantly, “it’s… bad, but… I mean, no, it’s not that bad. If it was just the weather, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.” “See?” Rangifera grinned slightly. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ll get more jobs that way.” She turned to Stalwart. “So what’s your excuse?” “I forgot exactly how cold it could get out here,” said Stalwart. “This would be nothing in my prime, but now? It’s… I guess I’m not afraid to admit that the weather took me by surprise. I don’t want to turn back yet, heavens no, but I just suppose that I’d be the first one to cave. I also don’t see the same in admitting you’ve been beaten, so I guess I wouldn’t-” She slapped herself across the face. “Yeah. That’s my excuse.” “Uh-huh.” Rangifera turned to Daring. “And you’re immune to the cold, aren’t you, my pegasus pony?” “Not immune-” Even Daring had been shaking when they set up camp. “-but definitely resistant. And this?” She gestured outside the poles. “This is nothing. It’d need to be twice as bad before I’d even think about turning around.” That she knew from experience. Of course, the weather then had been pegasus-summoned, not spontaneous, so there’d been some order she could exploit. It’d still been worse than this. “What about you?” “Don’t care about the weather,” Rangifera said. “It’s there and you can’t change it, so why bother complaining about it? I guess in Equestria, I’d have somebody to complain to, but they’d likely be a bureaucrat, so we’d be right back at square one.” She looked across the fire to Fallende. “And, for the complete set…?” “What, is bragging about how tough we are a game, now, with trading cards?” scoffed Fallende. “It’s bad, but I can handle it. As long as it’s not a windigo or a wechuge that’s responsible for it.” “A wechuge? Really?” Rangifera said skeptically. “What makes you think they even exist, my mystic-minded mate?” Fallende spread her front legs wide. “I’m just keeping an open mind. Things look different when you’re in a nonstop blizzard that’s apparently caused by nothing.” Rangifera snorted, but didn’t say anything. That was the extent of their conversation for the evening. Everybody seemed just too tired to say much. It wasn’t long before they all decided to turn in at about the same time. But before she went to her tent, Daring decided to check up on Windrose. She still seemed a little bit green, regardless of getting through the blizzard with no problem, and Daring wanted to be sure she still felt okay. The tents were small things, just large enough for a single person to sleep and some extra gear. Enchantments kept the heat in and the snow out. Inside one of them, Windrose was hunched over a large scrap of parchment, sketching away in the faint illumination of a light gem. A stack of similarly-large sheets was at her side. “Hey,” she said. Scritch scratch. “Hey. How’re you doing?” asked Daring. Windrose didn’t look up. “Hmm? Oh, fine, fine, just…” She clicked her tongue a few times. “Trying to remember where a few features were.” She gestured vaguely and sketched something out. She tilted her head this way, then that way, then nodded to herself. “Yeah, that’s it.” “Making that map?” “Hey, it’s part of why you hired me, isn’t it? I gotta earn my keep somehow.” Windrose laughed, but it was a bit forced. “We’ve gone almost six miles already, so I wouldn’t be surprised if we hit the end of the valley around noon tomorrow. Probably later, though.” “Really? You can tell how far we’ve gone in this weather?” “Sure. Part of being a cartographer. It’s…” Windrose scratched her head. “I can’t really say how I do it, but I just… know. Maybe it comes from my special talent.” Daring thought of her own talent. Maybe that was where her “you’re missing something” sense came from. “Maybe. How’s the map coming?” “It’s more of an outline or a draft than a map map. I can only see so much in this weather.” Windrose shrugged and held the map up. Although rough, it was still more detailed than Daring would’ve expected. She could trace out a few things she remembered from the trip, and what columns were on the map appeared to be in the right places. “I’ll fill it in once we start going back and forth. Hopefully.” She went back to sketching. “Good,” Daring said with a nod. She ducked out of the tent flap, then stuck her head back in. “You’re sure you’re oka-” “Definitely,” said Windrose. “Look, if I run into problems, I’ll tell you about them, okay? I’m not a complete idiot. Don’t worry about me, worry about finding your whatever.” Daring prayed Windrose would stay like this throughout the whole expedition. This was the kind of pony she wanted to work with: straightforward, communicative, capable. Why couldn’t more ponies be like her? “Right. See you tomorrow.” Daring pulled out of the tent. Her own tent wasn’t much different from any of the others. But it was hers, it kept the snow out, and while she was out here, it was home. Unfortunately, she couldn’t go to sleep just yet. Daring pawed through her gear and found a journal, picked up specially for this trip. She’d record everything she thought was important. She took a pen in her mouth and began writing. Daring woke up panting, her heart running a marathon, her muscles tight. She didn’t know why, but she immediately knew something was up. Her instincts wouldn’t have woken up like this if it wasn’t. She held still. It was still dark, probably the middle of the night. She rolled over and nudged at the sides of her tent, in case she was in danger of being buried. Some snow, but not much. She held her breath and strained her hearing. Those metal pole things were still working; the tent was mostly still and Daring could only hear the faintest splinters of the wind howling beyond the magical boundary. Then she realized that the wind wasn’t the only thing howling. Awoooooooooo… She clumsily pulled herself from her sleeping bag to the tent flap. She hadn’t heard that, had she? She thrust her head into the open air. The cold hit her like a sledgehammer, but she ignored it. She slowly pivoted her ears around, listening for- Awoooooooooo… That. She had heard it. Worse, it was closer. Maybe, under normal circumstances, Daring would’ve ignored it, but she wasn’t taking chances in Needle Vale. She crawled back into her tent and fumbled around for her light gem. It took her a few eternal moments, but she found it, and it bloomed to life as soon as she rattled it. She awkwardly yanked her clothes on and stepped into the cold. Just in time to hear another howl, even closer. Daring’s head was still swimming a little from sleep as she stumbled out. By the time she got to Rangifera’s tent, the frigid air had jolted her into full wakefulness. She ducked inside and poked at the sleeping bag. “Hey! Rangifera!” “No, no,” Rangifera muttered in her sleep. “This color is all natural.” “Rangifera!” “And if we go to the shampoo store, I can-” Daring jabbed Rangifera sharply. She yelped, twitched, and raised her head, blinking. “Wha’s…” she mumbled. “Wha’s goin’ on?” She yawned. “I heard wolves.” Rangifera’s eyes immediately focused. “Wolves?” she whispered. “I didn’t think anything lived out here. You’re sure they’ll be a problem?” “They’ve howled several times already,” said Daring, “and they’re getting-” AWOOOOOOOOOO… “-closer. I don’t want to take any chances.” “By Aurora…” Rangifera practically slid out of her sleeping bag and into her clothes like a liquid. “Not good. You were thinking of waking the others, right?” “Yeah. You throw up whatever defensive spells you can while I get everyone up.” “On it.” Already, light was dancing between Rangifera’s antlers. She snatched up her spear. In a stroke of luck, everybody woke up and was out quickly. Stalwart began reinforcing Rangifera’s spells with her own while Daring, Fallende, and Windrose clustered together. It was warm, uncomfortably so, and Daring wasn’t sure whether the pounding heartbeat she felt was her own or somebody else’s. Probably somebody else’s; she knew how to handle wolves. Wolves were nothing. An off-key bell rang through the air and Daring dimly made out the faint shimmer of a shield snap up around them. When Rangifera and Stalwart joined the group, they were both breathing heavily. “It’s not- much,” gasped Stalwart, “but- but it should- hold- for the night.” “The only way wolves- are getting through that,” panted Rangifera, “is if they- all attack at once.” “You’re…” Windrose swallowed. “You’re sure?” AWOOOOOOOOOO… “Positive. I’d bet my life on it,” said Rangifera. She coughed and rubbed at one of her antlers. “I already am.” She twirled her spear with a tiny font of sparks. “We’ll stay up for another few minutes,” Daring said, “just in case the wolves do attack and manage to get through. After that, one of us’ll stay up and keep watch. Guard changes every hour or so. I’ll go first. Sound good?” Everyone agreed that that was the best option for the moment and they quickly drew straws to find who’d go after whom. The wolves kept howling while they were up, but never approached the camp. The expedition stayed huddled together, silent, waiting for the worst to happen. Every second that ticked by strung them just a little bit tighter. Once enough time had passed, everyone reluctantly dispersed, probably too antsy to sleep. Daring was left alone in the dark, staring out at nothing, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything. AWOOOOOOOOOO… Daring paced back and forth, forcing frigid air down her throat to stay awake. She didn’t have a clock and the clouds blocked the moon and stars. Her mind seesawed between a desire to sleep and a desire to run out to fight the wolves. Her legs were sore from how she’d been sleeping. The illumination from her light gem barely showed the whole campsite at the best of times. And she was hungry. As far as bad experiences went, keeping watch for wolves in the middle of the night during a blizzard was definitely in the bottom ten. “So!” Stalwart said to the breakfasters with far more cheer than the morning deserved. “How’d you all sleep last night?” “Terribly,” mumbled Fallende. “And if you talk about sleeping again, I’ll rip off that horn of yours and shove it up your-” “Quiet,” Daring snapped at Fallende. Just because she shared the sentiment didn’t mean she wanted to hear it. “And then,” Fallende continued, “I’ll shed my antlers and-” “Quiet!” Fallende shot a stinkeye at Stalwart, then went back to chewing her egg. Daring wasn’t sure what, exactly, Stalwart was trying to accomplish with that question. In their little pocket of calm, it was dead obvious that everyone had had a bad night, whether from that special bad-sleep kind of bedhead, bloodshot eyes, bags beneath their eyes, or plain old lethargy. Rangifera didn’t seem to want to say anything and was chewing on coffee beans, Windrose was jumpy, Fallende was cranky, and Daring herself felt burnt out. It was hard to say whether Stalwart’s upbeat attitude was genuine at all or some kind of attempt to raise the spirits of the team. It was made even worse by the fact that no wolves had showed up at all, even beyond the shield; if they hadn’t heard the howls, they could’ve slept through the night. Eventually, Stalwart said, “Did any of the previous expeditions mention wolves at all? I can’t remember. And, of course, if they didn’t mention them, was that because they didn’t encounter any wolves, or for the same reason you don’t mention the sky is blue? That it’s just kind of assumed and no one makes a big deal out of-” “No one said anything about wolves,” grumbled Fallende. “As far as I can remember, they always talked about how fricking barren Needle Vale was. And I don’t think they’d forget to say anything about wolves, either.” “M-maybe they moved in recently?” Windrose suggested, not sounding convinced herself. “When was the last expedition?” “Heck if I know,” muttered Fallende. “Years, I think.” “Just under three,” said Stalwart. “Years, that is. There was that reindeer and griffon, oh, what were their names, and they-” “So, yeah, maybe they came in between then and now!” Windrose said in a high-pitched voice. “It wouldn’t take much, just following the right animals in, and… and…” Her voice trailed away as her explanation dried up. “Maybe Needle Vale’s responsible,” said Fallende. “It’d be just like this place.” Daring stared into the flickering fire, thinking. The wolves’ spontaneous appearance could be part of what made Needle Vale so weird, but still: what brought them here? Why? What else was here because of it? Was the “secret” of this place just that it was wilder than the outside world, like the Everfree? What made it that way? And did any of this really matter at all? Ultimately, until the group saw them for themselves, the wolves were just wolves. Nothing special. Nothing to speculate about. And that decided things for Daring. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Unless the wolves turn out to have something supernatural about them, we shouldn’t run ourselves in circles chasing what they might be. Stalwart, do you know any kinds of animal-repellent spells?” “Eh. Kind of.” Stalwart rubbed the back of her neck. “My memory’s a bit rusty, but I think I can keep any wolves away from our camps. They’re no good on the move, though, and we shouldn’t put too much trust in them until we know for certain that they work.” “I can help test,” Rangifera said tonelessly. “I know some of that, myself.” She seemed to have slept the worst of all of them. Daring had to restrain herself from asking Rangifera if she was okay; she seemed to be the kind of person to take offense at that, treat it as patronizing. “Good. Good.” Once the group was done eating, Daring decided to force them onward, to try to take their minds off the terrible night. As soon as she’d swallowed her last bite, she stood up. “We won’t get any further sitting here, feeling sorry for ourselves. Let’s pack up.” Windrose mumbled something incoherent and loped to her tent. Rangifera’s steps looked automatic. Stalwart stumbled as she got up. And Fallende spat into the fire before leaving. As Daring pulled down her own tent, she wondered what, exactly, was going through their heads. She prayed to whoever was listening that it was just sleep deprivation, not genuine animosity. They hadn’t even spent a full day in Needle Vale yet. And to think they might be in danger of breaking up already. The best she could hope for was that traipsing through the blizzard would get them awake enough to get over it. But if push came to shove, she could shove. This was her expedition, her team. She would keep it under control.