An offer to die for

Private Iron had been to many meetings in the past but this was different, not least of course that she had been kept waiting in a barely lit room for at least an hour. Not like blind mares mind the dark much though. "How long are they planning to keep me waiting?" The green mare played with her mane out of pure boredom.

"As long as is necessary to gauge your reactions to the situation." A stern voice spoke to her from just across from the table. Iron hadn't heard any signs of entry, a heartbeat, or even breathing not her own until this Stallion spoke, which was more than enough to register as weird for the detective.

"Who are you and why have you brought me here, you best start talking fast for having kept me waiting for so long." Iron's patience is starting to wear a bit thin by this point, clear in her voice.The stallion slams his hoof on the table, the sound of a folder sliding across the table to stop near her.

"You have been brought in to perform an investigation on some missing ponies in a place not even Princess Celestia can tread. We're offering you good bits to investigate this for us. You will be going deep undercover for this assignment."

"One I'm blind, portfolio's kinda pointless there champ. Two I'm a private eye not a spy, I don't do the whole deep undercover thing." Iron says dryly, leaning against the table. The sound of a match lighting catches her ear, the smell of herbs and smoke filling the air.

"What about those special little glasses of yours? Do they not fill the gap your eyes leave?"

"How do you....You know what never mind fine I'll look at what you got." Iron slips out her glasses and puts them on her muzzle, taking a few moments to adjust to the dark room. The stallion before her was silhouetted in shadows, waiting as she flips through the portfolio. Iron quickly notices the connection, they're all high born ponies: A daughter to a famous actress, The son of The Manehattan Mayor and more. "These are high profile cases...Why has nopony done anything if these are the type of individuals going missing?" The stallion at the other end of the table leans forward, revealing his shiny white coat with splotches of black through it. His face emerging from the veil of darkness, revealing ruby eyes behind a pair of spectacles. The fact that his clothing appears to be a uniform is not lost upon Iron, though she couldn't place it's origin. His mane was trimmed and slicked back under a beret with the symbol of the royal sun upon it, the letters S.I.S. stitched into the fabric below. Not a single detail of who Iron was speaking to was lost on her, the stallion pulled from his coat a pack of cigarettes and offered one to Iron. The stallion waits until she lights it with the proffered lighter before speaking.

"As I have told you, it is a place not even the Princess can go, thus she will not allow certain parties to investigate themselves. You can be considered an outside interest helping many high profile parents wondering what has happened." A long drag of her cigarette leaves a small pile of ashes on the table.

"Where would I be going exactly? I'm not saying I accept yet, but you have caught my interest enough to hear you out. Also how many bits we talking here?"

"One hundred bits a night, for up to six months of work. If you bring us a good solid lead then your pay shall be doubled. That's if you survive the entire time. I do not promise you will come back alive and should you we will not be liable for any mental stress problems." The stallion takes a puff from his pipe as he finishes his explanation, professional to a T. Iron keeps looking throughthe files, the danger in his words not bothering her but attempting to negotiate never hurts.

"For such a risk, that's got to be worth at least 200 bits a day." The Stallion stares at her for a few moments.

"125 bits a night, no more." He taps out his pipe.

"175" Moving some of her purple hair back in place, her earlier playing having messed it up.

"75 bits a night."

"You know what 125 a night does sound a reasonable amount." Iron quickly interjects. The stallion stands, stretching his legs completely at ease.

"65 bits a night."

"100 bits I will do it for 100 bits no less!" She shouts, finishing her cigarette in record time.

He taps out the ashes in his pipe. "90 bits."

"I hate you...." she says giving him a slight snarl. The stallion chuckles.

"Then I see we have an accord. Here is the file on where you will be going and your alias."

"Yeah, yeah we have an accord you ass." Iron begins looking through the folder, grumbling to herself. Her destination is a place known as the Crimson Countess manor, the name sounding familiar but she can't quite place it. Her new name is Minty Mousse, a new maid in the manor. "I'm going under cover as a maid. Really? But why would ponies go missing at a manor? Hot Trots sounds familiar...Wait I remember. My friends brought me there on one my birthdays, we got hammered and they bought me a sta.....Oh heck no, you want me to pretend to be a maid in a place like this?!" His piercing gaze locks onto her own.

"You will be the best of maids, and as such you will boarding inside the manor. You will investigate the staff and search the premises for any information relating to the missing individuals."

"You're lucky we already agreed on an amount but I expect a... frilly outfit bonus for this." She taps her hoof hard on the table, her leg clanking against the surprisingly dense wood. Probably pretty expensive. The stallion steps back and chuckles. "All your records will arrive in the next week, read everything over. Pack a few items that won't give away your identity and get a mane cut. You look like a bag pony. This number is a single use direct line, don't waste it." He throws a card onto the table as he leaves.

"You dick weasel! I'm no freaking bag pony! Oh Iron you are so going to kick his pompous ass one these days. You're also going to stop talking out loud to yourself one these days I'm sure, I think he heard us...me." She gathers her items and begins to leave the room when a black bag is thrust over her head without warning. She smells something sweet as her vision fades, her consciousness staying long enough for her to recognize chloroform.

Private Iron wakes up in her own bed staring at the ceiling, her glasses askew on her muzzle. "You're doing it for the bits Iron, the very good bits. You can afford nice food and that coach to help stop you from speaking your every thought out loud..." Iron turns to her side looking at her beloved service dog. "Do you think this is a bad idea Holiday?" Holiday barks. "We could just go with the cheaper food for me and you." Holiday barks again, Iron taking it as less than happy. "Good food. Figures that's your priority." She pets her lovely pooch's head and scratches her ears before going to find the dossier in her apartment to brush up on any info she might need to know. This is going to be a long job.

Crimson Countess Sanguine

Unicorn Pony Mare: Age unknown, estimated to be twenty four.

The owner of the Sovereign land on which Hot Trots is located, and proprietor of the business. The second Crimson Countess, her mother being the original. Acts as a noblemare most of the time, though she is known to most patrons of Hot Trots as the one running things.

Current abilities unknown, though prior information suggests that any confrontations with her be avoided.

Current equipment is unknown, though assume she has access to what she needs. Extremely unpredictable.

Known relationships: Cookie Crumbs, Gravel, Hurricane, Dusty Tome, pretty much anypony within or around the land is likely under her hoof.

Known to be extremely charismatic and willing to use her silver tongue to get what she wants.

Investigation priority: High, avoid attracting undue attention. Threat: Unknown, assumed five stars. Has no known heirs.

"Huh, so now I know a lot about what I don't know and to be careful. Here's hoping the the rest of them are more useful."

Head Maid Cookie Crumbs

Earth Pony Mare: Age unknown, estimated to be twenty eight.

The head maid of Hot Trots and the Crimson Manor. Has acted as maid for an unknown amount of time,directly serving the Crimson Countess. Is Gravel's sister, assumed blood relation.

Reports show a distinct split personality, or perhaps standard sociopath tendencies. Either way, she is well known for being very dangerous when agitated and performing extremely difficult feats.

Appears to have Special Forces training of some sort, posing a significant threat to highly trained combatants. Likely ex-military, her current life is likely an alias. Do not let your guard down around her, she is one of the largest threats to your life.

Current abilities are unknown, though she appears to be able to perform highly difficult feats and appear from wherever she desires, likely an espionage and stealth expert. Expect anything from her.

Current known equipment includes an arsenal of knives that she appears to hide within her mane, tail, and uniform.

Known Relationships: Countess Sanguine, Gravel, Hurricane, Dusty Tome. Known to be extremely unstable and willing to use violence half the time, cheerful and bubbly the other half of the time.

Investigation priority: High, do not get seen. Threat: Cookie, one star. Crumbs, five stars.

"Well. That doesn't sound very good. Their very own murderer dolled up as a maid. And I'm going to be working under her. Joy."

Escort and Bouncer Gravel

Earth Pony Stallion: Age Unknown, estimated to be twenty eight.

Former bouncer and current entertainer, he continues his duties as muscle when it's needed. Has worked at Hot Trots for an indeterminable amount of time. Shown to have a chivalrous side, seeming to respect the mares he charms. A possible asset, though shares the same near mindless loyalty to the Countess as most other workers. Is Cookie Crumbs' brother, could be used to placate her in case she is agitated.

Current abilities are unknown for certain, though he has shown proficiency in many hoof-to-hoof combat situations and knows how to use his size. Also likely ex-military, possibly a frontline soldier.

Current equipment is unknown, though likely limited to his own hooves.

Known Relationships: Countess Sanguine, Cookie Crumbs, Hurricane, Dusty Tome, many married mares. Likely the most reasonable pony in the establishment, and mares will be more able to manipulate him. Known for being stoic, though unwilling to use violence unless it is explicitly called for.

Investigation priority: Medium, could be useful. Threat: Three stars, if cover is blown.

"Seems familiar... Well, at least he sounds like a decent stallion. Strangely comforting to know I won't be completely surrounded by psychopaths."

Escort Hurricane

Pegasus Pony Stallion: Twenty Six.

Works as an escort, though is approximately Gravel's equal in sheer body size. Has worked at Hot Trots for seven years. Is one of the more passionate stallions on call, though he was trained as an actor at one point.

Current abilities are unknown, though a silver tongue and greater than average physical strength should be expected.

Current equipment is likely limited to his own two hooves and wings.

Known Relationships: Countess Sanguine, Cookie Crumbs, Gravel, Dusty Tome, and most of the patrons.

Is a very enthusiastic pony, diving head first into the situation at hoof. Often over exerts himself because of this. Prior to moving into Hot Trots, he lived in multiple places across Equestria, most notably Hoofington. There he was nominated for a Shakeponian award, but an undisclosed injury ended his career. Family is unknown. Should be relatively easy to manipulate by agents.

Investigation Priority: Medium, an asset. Threat: Two stars, unlikely to be a danger compared to the other workers.

"Again, seems familiar. Though this one seems more entertainer than prostitute. Seems normal enough, bet he's crazy too."

Barkeep High Roller

Pegasus Pony Stallion: Unknown age, estimate at forty.

Evening and night bartender along with functioning as the casino floorstallion. Has worked at Hot Trots for an undetermined amount of time. Not much is known about this stallion beyond his job.

Abilities, equipment, and relevant relationships are unknown. Personality appears to be the standard bartender type, willing to listen to ponies talk and fix their drinks. Prior life to Hot Trots is unknown.

Investigative priority: Unknown. Threat: Unknown. Be wary.

"Well that's not fun looking. Less intel on him than the Countess. He's probably hiding something big."

Author and Explorer Dusty Tome

Unicorn Pony Mare: Eighteen.

Frequent patron, and occasionally seen helping the staff with maid work. Has been frequenting Hot Trots and the Countess' land for approximately a year now. A small time author who has created a name for herself among historical circles. Has published logbooks primarily, though also has her name on everything from foals' books to a romance novel. Is currently on the run from Equestrian forces for several offenses, leaving a brother and parents in Manehattan to run their courier company First Feather. Possesses an inquisitive nature and surprising cunning, the stereotypical adventurer.

Current ability involves a much greater than average aptitude with Telekinesis, basic teleportation, a few shield spells, and not much else. Likely to know a hooful of utility spells, variety is not the threat here.

Current equipment is most likely standard adventurer's gear, expect minor enchanted items to be common.

Appears to have a stronger than usual connection with the Countess, though other noteworthy relationships include Cookie Crumble, Gravel, and Hurricane.

You are not authorized for further information.

Investigative priority: You are not authorized to investigate this mare, limit contact where possible. Threat: Three stars, four if cornered. You are not authorized to engage this mare.

"The buck do you mean not authorized? What did she do, raid Princess Celestia's lost sock drawer? Why bother giving me the file then?"

The Crimson Countess' Sovereignty.

Located off the road between Ponyville and Manehattan, in a large clearing of the Everfree Forest near the mountain. Approximately two hundred and sixty miles from Canterlot. Climate: Northern Everfree. Despite being surrounded by Equestrian land, and once being Equestrian, this land was given to the original Crimson Countess twenty one years ago. Contains a small town of about one hundred residents of multiple races and species. Much of their income originates from travelers and visitors. Notable residents involve most ponies involved with the burlesque club Hot Trots or the Crimson Manor. Is under the rule of the current Crimson Countess, making her word law. A list of basic laws have been provided for review. Some politically and publicly famous ponies are seen relatively often in town. Has no border control, though small size confers a significant advantage should it be enforced. No passport required. Accepts most types of currency. No current wars, no current allies. Is considered neutral in case of war. Note, anyone living there is legally her servant as long as they are on her land, and thus obligated to do as she orders. Her continued positive publicity reveals her as an at least competent ruler.

"A whole town then. Plenty of political information, but would it have been so hard to get a map?"

Crimson Manor.

Located at the south western corner of the Countess' land, overlooks most of her land. Where the Crimson Countess and her personal servants live. Used to greet diplomats and VIPs, along with being her home, at least partially. Events and celebrations tend to be hosted in the spacious front garden. Most of the hill the manor resides on is reserved for it, though the manor itself is more similar to a garrison than standard manor. Stone structure, three stories, and multiple wings. Likely fortified against magical and mundane dangers. Likely has underground sectors alongside the above ground wings. Only the Countess and those she personally invites are allowed to enter, along with her inner circle and serving staff.

"Always wanted an impenetrable fortress for a coffin. Keeps out the rats and necromancers."

Hot Trots.

Located at the North Eastern corner of the Countess' Land. Casino, burlesque parlor, bar, escort service, and inn. Those working there claim to have whatever your sins desire and more, making it the main attraction of the town for many visitors. A two story, moderately large building. Clearly bigger on the inside, agents with spacial sensitivities should avoid the building entirely. All of the employees live in house, either in Hot Trots itself or the town at large. Agents will have to enter this building at least once, and likely be inside it multiple times. There is no information on possible threats inside or outside, expect to be under constant observation. While partaking of the bar is unrecommended, booze has been shown to relief mental stress and increase the longevity of undercover agents.

"So you send me in there and tell me not to get drunk, but it'll help deal with the scars. Heck, I know more about this place than they do."

First Feather.

Location: Manehattan, Northshire Trotway, Sixteenth floor. Courier and publishing business. A business originally started as two rival companies that merged when the owners and sole workers married. Not noteworthy, outside of being the former home and place of business of Dusty Tome. Has recently been working as the Crimson Countess' sole courier business, investigations are underway. Should not be related, though could come into play in certain circumstances.

"That's it? They bother to mention a courier company in another city, but don't even know how big Hot Trots is. Why am I starting to regret this choice more and more Holiday?"

Iron sets down the dossiers, starting to think this job might be a bit more then she thought it would be. She sifts through the pictures again, looking over to make sure Holiday isn't paying attention as she slips the pictures of Hurricane and Gravel into a private folder hidden in her drawer. The folder has a few pictures of her friends Merlin and Flame, though it's mostly dominated by pictures of Sherlock that she has spliced herself into as if she was there as his assistant. After she hides her photos again with a brief blush she heads to speak to her landlord. "Hello Mrs.lantern. I came to talk to you about the next few months of rent? Hello, Mrs.Lantern..."

"Ms.Iron! Come in, come in. Yes we got your next six months of rent, lovely that your not just paying on time for once. What can i help you with Deary?" The elder mare plays with the large pile of bits laying spread across the table in her office.

Iron blinks for a moment, her curiosity piqued. "Six months in advance... Who payed my rent for me?"

"A young lad arrived about an hour ago, said you were going on a vacation, and wanted to have the room held. He gave me this lovely stack of bits." Mrs.Lantern snuggles her money.

Iron decides that leaving her landlord in a state of bliss is a good idea and eventually makes her way back to her room. "Alright Holiday lets get your leash, we're going for a little walk." Iron removes her magical glasses and puts them in her saddle bag as Holiday brings the leash already attached. "Some days I don't think you even need me Holiday." Iron sits, rubbing Holiday's side until he rolls onto his back and Iron gives him some good long belly scratchies before they depart to see Iron's cousin.

The walk was a tad long but Iron enjoyed spending time just walking with Holiday. Holiday knew exactly where they were going, looking forward to the trip. Eventually their walk brings them to a small monastery, the creaking of the door opening at her arrival still sends down a shiver down Iron's spine. "Hey, is Crypty around?" A nun trots over to Iron.

"Do you mean Father Cryptic Knowledge young mare?"

"Yeah that's the one, he around? Tell him Private Iron has come to speak with him." Iron lets herself in, trotting right past the nun.

The nun attempts to stop her to no avail before sighing. "I will go see if the Father is available." The nun trots off for about 10 minutes before returning with the priest. Holiday barks impatiently, demanding to be petted.

"Hello Dear Iron. I see you have refrained from possession or hospitalization recently. What can I do for you?" The Stallion sits before her calmly.

Iron moves toward him. "Hey Crypty...I'm going away on business for a few months. I was hoping you would be able to watch Holiday for me."

"My name is Cryptic Knowledge, use it properly or not at all." He holds out a hoof, Holiday tugging at his leash. Iron smiles to herself as she lets him go, listening to the frantic scrabbling on the stone below and barking as Cryptic Knowledge pets her little Holiday. "I would be more then happy to take a little Holiday." He chuckles to himself at the bad joke.

Iron sighs softly. "You're still a stick in the mud you know that? And that was just a horrible joke." Iron stands back up and starts toward the door. "Just take good care of him."

"What are you doing that will keep you so far away for such a length of time that you can't bring Holiday with you?" Cryptic chimes in before Iron can leave.

Iron's hoof falls onto the door, "I can't say..."

"Have you fallen into a bad situation Cousin?" A small tone of worry creeps into his voice.

"Nothing i can't handle. Thanks though Crypty." Iron snickers to try and break the tension before leaving. Cryptic Knowledge takes Holiday back to his room, worry for Iron now firmly distracting him.

Three days have past since she dropped off Holiday with Cryptic Knowledge, having taken a train to just outside the countess's lands and forced to trot the rest of the way to the Crimson Manor. She has been wearing her glasses the past few days to get used constantly wearing them, a headache having nested in her forehead as an effective but futile reminder as to why she usually doesn't. Her other uncomfortable change she's living with being her legs, no longer a comfortable iron or copper, but a lightweight and flimsy feeling plastic.Still, she couldn't help but be impressed by Tick-Tock's work, and she felt at least a bit thankful for her employers for funding them. Eventually Iron, now under the guise of Minty Mousse, approaches the front door to the Crimson Countess Manor, her few bags piled onto a small wagon pulled behind her. The door opens with a strange swooshing sound. On the other side stands a mare who Iron recognizes as Cookie Crumbs waiting for her. "Welcome To the Crimson Manor, let's go get you settled in!" Iron has never felt such danger woven into a warm happy welcome before. Iron pauses for but a moment before following Cookie inside, slightly put off by how friendly she was acting. The same swoosh is heard behind her, the door closing itself and filling Iron with a sense of her fate being sealed once more.