• Published 1st Mar 2024
  • 116 Views, 1 Comments

Holding Out For A Hero - AlwaysDressesInStyle



Wind Whistler knows all the rules, and she knows how to break 'em and she always knows the name of the game. But she doesn't know how to get out of a temple that falls apart every now and then. Don't be sad, 'cause three outta four ain't bad?

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Holding Out For A Hero

Wind Whistler isn’t a normal pony. You’ve known her for years, but it’s only after trudging through a forest for hours to really appreciate just how different from the herd she really is. She’s a trotting encyclopedia on a multitude of subjects, but completely inept at making small talk. The conversation, for whatever measure it can be called such, has been decidedly one-sided, except for bursts of facts related to whatever is relevant to your surroundings.

Wind Whistler is knowledgeable. Wind Whistler is logical. Everything she says or does has a purpose. She doesn’t waste words on pleasantries or talking about the weather. You’re not exactly sure why she’s invited you along on this mission instead of either North Star or Paradise, either of whom is more qualified for an archeological expedition than you. You’d call it a ‘fool’s errand’, but while Wind Whistler is a great many things, a fool isn’t one of them. She still hasn’t explained what your trip is about, but she indicated it was urgent when you left Dream Valley earlier that day.

The jungle has run out, and Wind Whistler’s apparent goal is in front of you. A long-abandoned temple rises from the overgrown ruins of an ancient town. She motions for you to slow your pace as she starts reading posted signs in the long dead language. That she can actually decipher the hieroglyphics doesn’t surprise you in the least.

She navigates through the temple, deciphering puzzles and dodging booby traps along the way. You follow her instruction to the letter – you don’t want to end up trapped in here.

It takes a while, but her painstaking caution pays off. You reach the central room of the temple, revealing a large, open room with an altar in the middle. Atop the altar is an awkwardly-shaped stone object.

Wind Whistler whistles in appreciation. “This is the mighty Steinman. An artifact infused with the magic of a dozen unicorns, and gifted to the humans who once lived here.” She goes silent as she starts measuring it, and studying it from all angles. Abruptly she stops and hands you her saddlebags. “Fill these with as many rocks as you can find.”

It’s an unusual request, one you would’ve questioned from anyone else. But from Wind Whistler, you follow her order without comment, scrounging rocks from the floor of the crumbling temple surrounding you.

She takes the saddlebags, and proceeds to adjust the contents, removing some rocks and adding a few others from the ground until she’s satisfied with the results. “This should be sufficient for my needs.” She turns to you. “This is going to require precision timing. The Steinman can be removed, but only in the event something of equal weight is substituted. Failure will result in the ceiling collapsing.”

You gulp as you look up. The ceiling is twenty feet above you, but it’s solid stone. If that drops, you’re both goners.

“I’m going to hover with my saddlebags. When I nod, grab the statue and run back the way we came in. In case we get separated, do you remember the way?”

“Yes.”

“Can you dodge the booby traps?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, but if we get separated, you have to get back to Dream Valley. Without the Rainbow of Light, the Steinman is our only hope.”

Porcina had invaded, turning most of Ponyland’s inhabitants to glass.

Wind Whistler nods, and you grab the statue as she drops her rock-filled saddlebags on the dais. There’s a rumbling from above and you pour on the speed, dodging the chunks of rock as they rain down from the ceiling.

The ceiling has collapsed, leaving the altar room strewn with rubble. It’s impossible to see over, and you call out to see if your friend is all right. “Wind Whistler! Are you okay?”

“In a manner of speaking. I’m afraid I miscalculated the weight of the Steinman.” She groans, and you’re not sure if it’s because she’s in pain, or if she’s just embarrassed to have made a mistake.

“Are you in pain?”

“I am, but that’s rather inconsequential, all things considered.”

“How can you consider that trivial?”

She laughs. It’s an awkward sound, almost as if Wind Whistler understands the concept of laughing, but has little practical experience with finding things funny. “This is one of the reasons I prefer to engage in conversations with you – you don’t need a dictionary to translate what I’ve said. But to answer your question, I find myself pinned in a confined space between the dais, the ground, and a rather massive chunk of the ceiling. I’m, as the others would say, stuck.”

“Hold on,” you say. “I’m coming.”

“That would be ill-advised. The stone above me is perched precariously. Efforts to extract me would more likely result in entombing us both. Besides, Dream Valley’s predicament is direr than mine.”

“You can’t sacrifice yourself like this.”

“I can, and I must. The needs of the herd outweigh the needs of one mare.”

“But…”

“We can spend all day arguing, but in the end it’s my decision.”

[CHOICE]

> Talk Wind Whistler out of it. (hero)
> Let Wind Whistler sacrifice herself for the greater good. (villain)