Daring Do and the Wendigo Shrine

by ThePartyCannon

Chapter One - A letter from Jack

A light brown pony shuffled his hooves as he stood silently inside a long warehouse. It was dark, but he could clearly make out the two dozen other ponies in the room with him. They were all similarly clad, wearing scarves, goggles, and other winter garb, and were lined up alongside one wall, facing a multitude of carts and wagons. Surrounding the carts were scores of large wooden crates. The brown pony turned to a dark pink mare next to him,

“Yo, the name’s Notes. Any idea what’s going on?”

The mare turned her head sharply and shushed him harshly. The stallion recoiled and continued to look forward into the dark warehouse. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and his breath went cold. He shuffled his feet even more nervously as he prepared himself for what was to come. His eyes darted around worriedly, not daring to move his entire head. His ear perked up as he heard a faint noise to his right.

The clanking noise was soon followed by the nigh-silent sound of the clopping of hooves on the cold cement floor. The source of the noise soon came into Notes’ vision. He squinted his eyes to get a clearer picture. There were two ponies, one much larger than the other. The smaller of the two could be heard whispering something very faint, followed by the baritone acknowledgement of his bulky partner.

The smaller pony stepped out of the shadows and stood in front of the line of ponies, pacing between his recruits. He started at the far left, and slowly walked down the line, taking a long look at several meager looking ponies. He came to a complete stop in front of Notes and peered into his eyes.

The overseer, if that was what you could call him, was a light grey, small earth pony. A pair of round-rimmed spectacles sat on his nose, catching a tiny bit of light. Behind the glasses, his pale green eyes squinted as he looked over the pony quivering in front of him. He brought a hoof up and scratched at his ashen beard before continuing down the line.

The brown pony let out a long exhale as quietly as he could. He craned his neck to look at the supervisor. He stopped only one other time to whisper something to a light blue pony before moving back to his large friend in front of the carts. He stood for a moment before letting out a sharp whistle. Seemingly at their own will, several blinders were thrown off the walls, letting in large shafts of bright light from the windows, despite the cloudy skies of Stalliongrad outside.

In full view of the light, everypony was able to get a good look at the duo. The grey pony’s features could be seen in full; his light grey coat, his neatly trimmed ashen mane, his bow-tie, and his textbook cutie mark. His accomplice, who surprisingly wasn’t a pony, but a zebra, looked far more intimidating. His jet black Mohawk added to his gargantuan size, and he adorned his legs and neck with ivory trinkets. On his tail he had tied a bright red piece of cloth, the use of which was unknown.

The grey pony stepped forward and cleared his throat. His voice was very formal, with a hint of a rasp to it. His accent was foreign, the location of which couldn’t be described by anyone.

“Guten tag, everypony! I trust that you’ve enjoyed your stay so far?”

He was met with silence.

“That is to be expected, I was quite secretive about this procedure. I’m sure you’re all wondering why you are here, no? Well, you’ve been hired to run two sets of supplies to my employers on the other side of the Chorda Mountains, and in Istanfoal. The pay is extensive, for every one of you, as long as there are no questions asked. Understood?”

The ponies in the room nodded and mumbled agreements. In response, the grey pony clapped his hooves once,

“Wunderbar! You may call me Reinerth. Dusty Reinerth. Now, get these crates onto the wagons. Mach schnell!”

Notes and the other ponies scurried around, dragging crates and other utilities to the carts. Meanwhile, Reinerth and the zebra slowly headed to the corner of the room, where an extravagant covered wagon sat. The zebra held the door open as Reinerth stepped inside.

On the warehouse floor, Notes went to work dragging crates to various wagons. Around him, the other ponies began to become freindlier with each other and started to socialize. Notes dumped his crate at the nearest cart and felt the need to do the same. He scanned the room, and spotted a lone blue pony who was struggling trying to move a large crate. He trotted to his side and helped him push.

Breathing heavily, the blue pony introduced himself,

“Thanks for the help. My name’s Jackhammer, but just Jack for short.”

The two stopped in front of an empty wagon, and waited for more ponies to assist in the heavy lifting.

“Nice to meet ya, Jack. Name’s Notes. I don’t reckon you’ve got anything to eat, do ya?”

Jack shook his head, “Sorry, I already-”

He was interrupted when a large shadow engulfed the two ponies. They looked up into the eyes of the zebra, who gazed down on them menacingly.

“Which one of ya is Jack?” he said in a baritone voice through clenched teeth.

The blue pony stepped forward, visibly shaking.

“Mister Reinerth wants to see ya.” he turned to Notes, “Get back ta work!”

Jack followed the zebra on shaky legs to the private wagon. By the time they had reached it, he felt about ready to fall over from fright. The zebra opened the door and beckoned Jack to go inside. Clumsily, he clambered into the little wagon.

Inside the wagon was even more luxurious, if not a little cramped. Across one wall, large maps of Equestria and outlaying lands were hung up. Jack spotted a small cupboard full of bottles of purple and red liquids, and covered in fine dinnerware and plates. Finally, he noticed Reinerth, who was sitting at a desk with his back turned to Jack. The zebra poked his head inside,

“Sir, I’ve go the archaeologist.”

Reinerth turned around, and his eyes widened as he saw the timid pony.

“Ah, splendid! Come in, don’t be shy! Thank you for bringing him.”

The zebra nodded his head and closed the door, returning to the warehouse floor.

“So, you’re our archaeologist. Heh, you don’t match up to what I imagined, nein.”

Reinerth walked over in front of Jack, investigating his short, but shaggy black hair. He pulled at his saddlebags, and looked over his every feature. The longer he looked him over, the more nervous Jack became. He wasn’t supposed to be caught up in something like this. All he was doing was trying to catch a ride back to Canterlot!

He’s not supposed to know I’m an archaeologist! What happened...?!

Reinerth finally back away and extended his hoof,

“So, what is your name, fremde?”

What do I say? What do I say?! Think... What would she do? After several precious seconds of frantic thought, the idea came to him. Lie!

“Chan. My name’s Chan.” He lied.

“Ah, Herr Chan! It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Reinerth exclaimed as he firmly shook the pony formerly known as Jack’s hoof, “I can’t say I’ve heard of your work before.”

Jack understood the basic workings of espionage, which to him consisted of one thing; lie, and if you get caught, lie some more.

“I worked once to the north of here, digging up some dragon bones. It was a private dig. Pretty underfunded too...”

Reinerth grunted, obviously losing interest in the bumbling pony. He turned back to his desk and leaned over a dusty old tome. He flipped through several pages as he questioned Jack.

“Do you know the real reason for this expedition, Herr Chan?”

Jack shook his head, “No, sir, I don’t.”

Reinerth chuckled, “Gut. Then I did a good job keep it a secret. Tell me, what do you know about ‘The Wendigo Shrine’?”

A chill ran up the archaeologist’s spine as Reinerth held an open book in front of him. On one of the pages was a sketch of a columnar rotunda, adorned with statues of pegusi and wengidoes alike. Shooting out from a metallic apparatus on the top were several arcs of lightning, going directly into a swirling maelstrom of clouds above. Jack’s heart dropped into his stomach as he realized what danger his pseudo-espionage had gotten him into. He cleared his throat,

“I... I know a lot, sir.”

------

The tan mare sat up in her cot with a jolt. She looked around, her heart racing. She recognized the walls, and the furniture laid about the room. Sighing, she said to herself,

“Calm down, you’re home. You’re safe.”

She stood up and stretched her wings in the small room. It was nearly bare, as usual. There was no sense in decorating your room when you were almost never there to see it. Of the few things in the room, her cot in one corner and the bookcase in the other were the most prominent. The bookcase was covered in many books, all of which had been read at least a dozen times by the intellectual mare.

The pegasus took a moment to get fully awake before heading to the door. She grabbed a shirt from a hook by the door and quickly threw it on prior to grabbing her iconic pith helmet and dunking it on her head. She straightened it as she stepped outside.

Normally, if a pony were to live in Canterlot they would be considered ‘upper crust’ by everypony else. However, this pegasus was an exception. She was always covered in dirt and grime, and smelled of sweat and foreign lands. Her choice of clothing was so ‘crude’ that it would make any Canterlot fashion designer cringe away in disgust. Her attitude alone would exclude her from any formal gathering. But despite her drawbacks, she was always welcomed with open arms nearly anywhere she went. Perhaps it was her idealistic adventuring nature, or her prominent intellect. Whatever the case, everypony loved her.

She trotted down the road, receiving waves and greetings from passing ponies. One pony even stopped to offer the pegasus some of her lunch, to which she humbly denied. It wasn’t that she didn’t have the time to stop; the truth was she didn’t even have anywhere to be. The mare just got restless when she had to stay in one place for too long. When that happened, she enjoyed wandering the streets of Canterlot, letting her mind roam freely.

She turned left down an alley, then turned right through a crowded street. She took a shortcut through a marketplace and hopped down a flight of stairs leading to a large opera house. All the while, her mind drifted in and out of her adventures in the past.

The sweat on her brow, the dirt in her hooves, the feeling of the foliage against her coat. These were the feelings of a true adventure. Her heart pounding as she flew as fast as she could under the canopy of trees, weaving in and out between large tree trunks. The wind ripping at her mane, tearing at her ears, but still she had to go faster. There was no such thing as too fast when it came to these situations. She looked over her shoulder and-

Without realizing it, the mare had begun sprinting through the streets, unaware that she was living her past experiences. Only when she collided head on with another pony did she come to her sense. She lay on her back, momentarily stunned by the impact. All around her letter and notes fluttered to the ground, littering the area. She craned her neck around to see a bewildered unicorn, sitting wide-eyed with shock. His lip trembled as he stammered out,

“M-miss Daring Do? A-are you alr-right?”

Daring Do quickly sprang up, shuffling the letters around her into an unorganized pile. She grinned as her cheeks went red with embarrassment,

“Sorry about that! I guess I need to get my head out of the clouds.”

The mailpony laughed as he levitated several letters into his saddlebags,

“Don’t worry about it, Miss Do. It happens to me all the time!”

Daring Do scratched her grey-scale mane in confusion as the mailpony walked off. She stared at him a moment longer, and was about ready to wander off when he suddenly turned on a dime and galloped towards her with a wide grin on his face,

“While you’re here I might as well give this to you!” He levitated out a simple envelope, held together by an unmarked wax seal. “It’s addressed from Stalliongrad. Have any friends there?”

Daring Do took the note in her mouth and shook her head ‘no’. The mailpony shrugged,

“Well, surprises are fun too! Take care, Daring Do. And try to pay attention a bit more!”

The mare waved farewell to the awkward mailpony. She trotted back towards her one-room home with the letter in her mouth. It was only a few blocks, which gave her little time to think,

Who is in Stalliongrad that I know? All the professors left after the industrialization. And no one told me they would be going on a trip.

The more she thought about it, the more tempted she was to read it then and there. She rarely got mail as it is, but to get mail from Stalliongrad, from an unknown pony, was more than exciting. She picked up the pace as her building came into view.

She quickly threw open the door and went inside. She tore open the envelope, and began reading the letter aloud,

Dearest Daring Do,

I know we haven’t talked in over a year, but this is important. I was working on a dig outside of Stalliongrad when my funding was cut. I didn’t have the bits to get a ride back to Canterlot, so I tried working to get enough for a train or something. A pony on the street told me of someone named ‘Dusty Reinerth’, you might know him as Professor Reinerth, he worked in Canterlot for a year or two when you first started your ‘career’. Anyway, he claimed that we would just run supplies into the Chorda Mountains, and he hired about twenty ponies to do it. but it’s a lie! He called me to talk in private. Apparently he recognized my as an archaeologist by my cutie mark... He started talking about ‘The Wendigo Shrine’. That’s right, Daring Do; you know what I’m talking about.

Daring Do raised her eyes from the letter, horrendously confused at what this ‘Wendigo Shrine’ could be.

I got overexcited, and kinda lied a bit about who I was. He thinks I can lead him to the shrine, so he could use it. I’m not sure how he’s going to go about doing that, but he’s insistent. In the meantime, I’ll play the role of a spy and see if I can get more information on what he’s planning to do. If you don’t mind, I’ve chartered an airship to fly you out of Canterlot to Istanfoal. You’ll know where to got from there. I realize our past is ‘sketchy’, but this is really important. Please, Daring, if he can do what he says he can do, then we don’t have much time before he activates the shrine.

-Sincerely, Jackhammer.

Daring Do folded the letter back up and stared at it for a good ten minutes. She hadn’t heard from Jack in over a year (fifteen months, to be exact. She’d been keeping count.) And the first thing he says to her is something about an old professor and some nonsense about a mystical shrine. He was always one to exaggerate stories, but this was something else entirely. Daring Do sighed and put the letter on her bookcase, next to an old photograph.

“Jack, Jack, Jack...” she tsked to herself, “What kind of a mess have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Daring Do remembered Jack as the clumsy, tongue-tied pony who got into trouble on a regular basis. Yet, through his nigh-incompetence in adventuring and goofy disposition, Jack had been Daring’s most loyal friend throughout her career. She was more than surprised to see a letter from her old friend, considering his disappearance and resignation from the museum.

She went over the letter in her head over again, thinking intently on Reinerth. The name didn’t ring a bell immediately.

“Maybe the curator will know something about him.”

Daring Do started out the door again, looking back one last time at the letter,

“And maybe she’ll know something about the Wendigo Shrine too...”

Comments

[Icer]

At the time that I'm writing this, I am 3 paragraphs in, and I've already hit "Tracking."

Good job, I'll comment more later if I need to.

[ThePartyCannon]

286320 Thanks! I didn't really think I did that good of a job at the beginning. Or the middle. Or the end, really. But I'm glad you like it!

[Sorren]

I say this is very good story. Just one thing, "A brown pony shuffled his feet. "feet"