Daring Do and the Race to the King's Treasureby neilthenerdChaptersChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 1Daring Do walked through the streets of Hoofingon determinedly, a mare on a mission. Her official title was forensic archaeologist with the Equestrian Museum of Anthropology, but everypony knew that she was much more. This, though, was out of her league. She could deal with any predatory animal. Tigers, pythons, manticores - she understood how their minds worked. But these stallions in suits were unpredictable. She didn’t know the rules of their game. It can’t be that difficult, she thought. Just talk them into giving you the authorization to go in and retrieve the artifacts. Easy. As she trotted up a long flight of marble stairs, she was struck by the sickening opulence of these bureaucrats. The city was crumbling around them, but they did nothing but extort the ordinary citizens. Their administrative office building stood like a sparkling chandelier in a garbage dump. She stepped through the gigantic glass doors, and spoke briefly with the receptionist. Soon, she was gliding smoothly to the top floor in a cylindrical elevator. Her eyes were treated to a view of the metropolis - what little of it could be seen through the blanket of yellow smog. Many of the buildings were abandoned, their windows boarded up. The few structures that showed signs of life appeared to be casinos and brothels. Even now, Hoofington was still a tourist trap, perfect for the wealthy gentlecolt who wanted to enjoy a city with no rules. The elevator doors opened, and she was greeted by a line of sickeningly fake smiles, ponies arranged in a half circle around an enormous meeting table. “Good morning, Miss Do. What a pleasure to finally meet you.” “Likewise, Dr. Brownfield.” She shook his hoof. It was like touching the head of a poisonous snake. “Please, sit. There is much for us to discuss.” The oval room was covered in dark wood paneling, and the only light came from narrow windows. “Look. Just give me the paperwork to sign. I want to get the artifacts out of that cave before the looters do,” she said, easing into a plush leather chair. “I’m sure you do. But the situation has grown … complicated.” She raised an eyebrow. “You sent me a scroll yesterday that said everything was under control.” He ran a hoof through his mane. “Yes, well. There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding with the rebels. They’ve decided to take matters into their own hooves.” Her mind quickly reviewed all she knew about this situation. The entrance to the cavern had been discovered just three days ago by an amateur archaeologist. Poking around in an abandoned dig a few miles west of the city, he unearthed a small stone door. An inscription stated that it was the entrance to the treasury of King Leonidas II, and that all his wealth was buried within, known to be worth many billions of bits. The amateur had tried to enter, but chickened out when he sprung a protective trap and narrowly missed being decapitated. All would be well if he had kept his big mouth shut. But, like a fool, he had taken the news straight to the press, and soon the entire world knew of the discovery. Despite the military guard posted around the site, the Hoofington government had received a serious threat from the Iron Wings, a local paramilitary organization. They had demanded to be allowed to enter and retrieve the treasure. “So, what happened?” she asked, expecting the worst. “The guards around the cave were ambushed last night by Iron Wing troops. They’ve taken dozens of our soldiers captive, as well as a number of overcurious civilians who were nearby when the attack took place. They are using the hostages as leverage. If we attack, their lives are forfeit.” Daring Do’s eyes narrowed. “What have you done to resolve this?” “What can we do? Every one of our available army units is stationed around the perimeter. But, shedding the blood of civilians is not an option. Some of them are just foals. The rebels hold the trump card.” This is going to be much more difficult than I thought, Daring mused. Not that that’s unusual. “Their methods of archaeology are a little more direct than yours, Miss Do,” Dr. Brownfield said, cleaning his monocle with a handkerchief. “Even now, they are using magical energy weapons to blast their way through the traps set to guard the treasure. It’s only a matter of time before they reach their goal. “Officially, the city can do nothing. But unofficially …” He looked at the burnt-yellow pegasus, his narrow eyes reminiscent of a reptile's. “I think I understand,” she said. “You want me to go in and get to the treasure before they do. Remove the prize, and their motivation disappears. We negotiate release of the hostages, and nopony gets hurt.” “Precisely. Can you help us?” It was far too dangerous. Her enemies would be armed with tremendous firepower and a license to kill. She had read about the atrocities the Iron Wings had committed in the past. With them, she would be lucky to get a bullet through her skull. But then, her mind turned to the hostages trapped by those monsters. She imagined a group of foals huddled together, cowering in fear from grinning soldiers holding assault rifles. It was simple, really. Those artifacts must be protected, those foals had to be saved, and she was the only pony in the world with the experience to handle such a deadly maze. She had already made her decision. “I’ll do it. How am I going in?” The ponies sitting across from her looked uncomfortable. Brownfield chuckled nervously. “That is the question of the hour, Miss Do.” She was indignant. “You expect me to sneak past an entire army of insurgents, into a cave filled with death traps, past a group of soldiers armed with magical energy weapons, and remove hundreds of pounds of treasure, without being seen? Are you out of your minds?” “The resources of the city are at your disposal …” “You don’t understand. What you’re asking me to do isn’t madness. It’s suicide.” “Be reasonable, Miss Do,” Dr. Brownfield said, lighting a cigar. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. If it’s money you want, name your price.” She stood to her hooves, irate. “What do you take me for, a bounty hunter? I’m not doing this for monetary gain, but for ...” She stopped short. Alright. If that’s the way they work in this town, then I’ll play their little game. “Wait. How much money are we talking about?” The monocled pony smiled, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Now we’re talking.” Chapter 2"Excuse me, sir." The street musician glanced up, his face gaunt. "Yeah? Wha'da ya want?" The old-fashioned guitar he was playing looked like it might fall apart at any moment. "I hear that you have connections with the Warpaws," Daring Do said, nonchalantly. "Do you know where I can find them?" The pony diverted his gaze. "I don't know nothin'." He kicked a tin can toward her with a back hoof. Taking his hint, she dropped a few bits into the can. He looked around nervously, and motioned for her to lean in close. "Look, lady. Them diamond dogs are trouble. All they good for is cheatin' and druggin'." "I'm fully aware that they are not model citizens. But, I've got a little problem that only they can help me solve." "Take it from somepony who knows," the musician stated, "even if ya can get the dogs' help, no problem is bigger than the hurt they'll give ya. They'd stab their own ma over a piece of moldy ham." Daring Do was undaunted. "Your advice is duly noted and appreciated. Take me to them." * * * As the musician and the archaeologist galloped through the city, the streets became darker and the buildings even more derelict. The ponies that they passed seemed like shadows, winking in and out of existence in the corners and alleyways. Her load of two heavy briefcases made their quick pace difficult, but Daring Do pressed forward. In the middle of a street lined with bars and disreputable shops, her guide stopped abruptly. "The padrone, Old Scruff, he and I don't get along as well as we used to. I'd rather my meat stay attached to my bones, so I can't take you no farther." Daring nodded. "So, which way do I go?" "Down," he said, tapping a manhole cover with his hoof. "Don't worry 'bout findin' 'em. I bet they give ya a nice, warm welcome." It took both of them to lift the heavy metal plate, but soon she was descending into the abyss on a rusted ladder. "Good luck," he called after her as he lowered the briefcases down on a rope. His voice reverberated through the tunnel. "Ya'll need it." This wasn't Daring Do's first time in a sewer, but the stench was still overpowering. Grunting with the effort, the musician slid the cover back in place, sealing the mare in complete darkness. She quickly pulled out a flashlight. The flickering yellow beam revealed a thin sidewalk running alongside a river of bubbling waste. Choosing to follow the flow of the current, she cautiously made her way forward. With each step, her hooves oozed half an inch into muck. Her uneasiness grew with each minute that passed. Where is this 'warm welcome' he was talking about? Whatever that was, she hoped to be able to avoid it. I definitely don't want the diamond dogs getting the advantage in this situation. That could end badly. Suddenly, a shiver ran up her spine. Daring Do had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Her ears perked. The only noise was the sound of her own breathing. She turned her head in time to see beady yellow eyes and glistening, grinning fangs. Reflexively, her wings flared and she jumped into the air, but a huge paw caught her by the tail and stuffed her into a scratchy burlap sack. "Pony thinks she is so sneaky," said a deep, gravely voice, whose owner sounded very pleased with himself. "Stop wiggling like a little fish. We won't kill you. Master likes his meat fresh." Chapter 3With a painful thud, Daring Do hit the floor. Even for her steel nerves, being nearly suffocated in a small, dark bag was difficult to handle. She thrashed about, trying to escape. She heard a murmur from all around her. A distinct, nasal voice came from somewhere above. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. You found another one of those delicious rats?” “No, master. It is pony.” “Well, it makes little difference,” the ‘master’ said. “Any pony stupid enough to enter my sewers is no better than a maggot, let alone a rodent. Call my chef in here. I’m thinking that slow-roasting this little morsel alive will be very entertaining, not to mention quite tasty.” “If you so much as lay a finger on me, you’re done for,” Daring Do snarled. “Is that so?” the master chuckled. “Well, then. I guess I’ll have to use my hind legs.” A vicious kick sent her tumbling. When she landed, one of the briefcases dug into her lower back, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming in pain. Gasping for air, Daring Do gritted her teeth. “I’m warning you. I have a document signed by the chief of police. It says that if I don’t make it out of here, he is going to hunt you down and personally take you into custody. There’s plenty they can charge you with, regardless of whether I live or die. So you’d better watch yourself.” “The pony is prepared. I like it. Release her.” Daring Do heard the top of the bag being untied, and was summarily dumped on the floor, her briefcases landing on top of her. Pushing one of them off her nose, she stood and quickly judged her surroundings. A cave lit only by two fires. A large stone chair. Grotesque hounds in a large circle around her. A stench even worse than the rest of the sewers. A wizened, nearly hairless mutt stepped forward. “I am Old Scruff, master of the Warpaws, and your host for this evening’s dinner party.” Behind a small pair of round spectacles, his beady green eyes almost twinkled. “You must have some heck of a reason to go to all this trouble of getting captured. Care to enlighten me?” “All I need is a little help. In return, I offer these.” She unlatched the briefcases and opened them with a flourish. Inside, hundreds of rare gemstones sparkled, refracting the firelight into glimmering rainbows. Old Scruff ran a paw through the stash, letting gems rain down between his fingers. “You certainly know how to get my attention. What ‘help’ could a old hound like me give someone like you?” “As I’m sure you’re aware, the Iron Wings are trying to force their way into King Leonidas’ trove. It’s my duty to put that treasure where it belongs: a museum. But, I can’t get past their soldiers at the main entrance. There’s only one way I can get to the prize first. I have to go around them.” The master looked quizzical. “How?” “Simple. You and your friends are miners, correct?” His chest swelled with pride. “The best and the fastest in the world.” “Right. I need you to dig me a way into that cave, immediately.” Old Scruff pondered this. “So, what’s to stop me from just taking these gems for myself, and letting you dig your own blasted tunnel?” “These are just a down payment.” Daring Do smiled. “There’s a dozen times as much waiting for you, all yours if you help me.” He was quite literally salivating over the prospect. “But it’s not just that,” Daring Do continued. “As I understand it, the Iron Wings are your enemies. Wouldn’t it be just great if they got to the end of their search to find that the treasure was already gone?” The old dog grinned toothlessly. “You’ve got a point there.” He rubbed his paws together in delight. He seemed a little bit too eager, actually. Daring Do shot him down. “Don’t even think about taking the bounty for yourself. If my math is right, the tunnel should take me to somewhere in the middle of the cave. It’s filled with traps that only a seasoned professional - like myself - could keep from setting off. Unless you want to become mincemeat, you’ll leave the treasure hunting to me.” His gaze darkened. “You drive a hard bargain, pony.” He reached out a gnarled paw for a shake. “But one that I simply can’t refuse.” * * * After giving precise instructions on where and how the tunnel was to be excavated, Daring Do rushed back up the surface. There was one more piece of the puzzle that she had to fit into place. Back in her hotel room, she dialed the royal palace in Canterlot. Soon, the operator connected her to her target. “Hello? Yes, it’s Daring Do. Remember that favor you owe me? Well. It’s time.”
Chapter 1Daring Do walked through the streets of Hoofingon determinedly, a mare on a mission. Her official title was forensic archaeologist with the Equestrian Museum of Anthropology, but everypony knew that she was much more. This, though, was out of her league. She could deal with any predatory animal. Tigers, pythons, manticores - she understood how their minds worked. But these stallions in suits were unpredictable. She didn’t know the rules of their game. It can’t be that difficult, she thought. Just talk them into giving you the authorization to go in and retrieve the artifacts. Easy. As she trotted up a long flight of marble stairs, she was struck by the sickening opulence of these bureaucrats. The city was crumbling around them, but they did nothing but extort the ordinary citizens. Their administrative office building stood like a sparkling chandelier in a garbage dump. She stepped through the gigantic glass doors, and spoke briefly with the receptionist. Soon, she was gliding smoothly to the top floor in a cylindrical elevator. Her eyes were treated to a view of the metropolis - what little of it could be seen through the blanket of yellow smog. Many of the buildings were abandoned, their windows boarded up. The few structures that showed signs of life appeared to be casinos and brothels. Even now, Hoofington was still a tourist trap, perfect for the wealthy gentlecolt who wanted to enjoy a city with no rules. The elevator doors opened, and she was greeted by a line of sickeningly fake smiles, ponies arranged in a half circle around an enormous meeting table. “Good morning, Miss Do. What a pleasure to finally meet you.” “Likewise, Dr. Brownfield.” She shook his hoof. It was like touching the head of a poisonous snake. “Please, sit. There is much for us to discuss.” The oval room was covered in dark wood paneling, and the only light came from narrow windows. “Look. Just give me the paperwork to sign. I want to get the artifacts out of that cave before the looters do,” she said, easing into a plush leather chair. “I’m sure you do. But the situation has grown … complicated.” She raised an eyebrow. “You sent me a scroll yesterday that said everything was under control.” He ran a hoof through his mane. “Yes, well. There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding with the rebels. They’ve decided to take matters into their own hooves.” Her mind quickly reviewed all she knew about this situation. The entrance to the cavern had been discovered just three days ago by an amateur archaeologist. Poking around in an abandoned dig a few miles west of the city, he unearthed a small stone door. An inscription stated that it was the entrance to the treasury of King Leonidas II, and that all his wealth was buried within, known to be worth many billions of bits. The amateur had tried to enter, but chickened out when he sprung a protective trap and narrowly missed being decapitated. All would be well if he had kept his big mouth shut. But, like a fool, he had taken the news straight to the press, and soon the entire world knew of the discovery. Despite the military guard posted around the site, the Hoofington government had received a serious threat from the Iron Wings, a local paramilitary organization. They had demanded to be allowed to enter and retrieve the treasure. “So, what happened?” she asked, expecting the worst. “The guards around the cave were ambushed last night by Iron Wing troops. They’ve taken dozens of our soldiers captive, as well as a number of overcurious civilians who were nearby when the attack took place. They are using the hostages as leverage. If we attack, their lives are forfeit.” Daring Do’s eyes narrowed. “What have you done to resolve this?” “What can we do? Every one of our available army units is stationed around the perimeter. But, shedding the blood of civilians is not an option. Some of them are just foals. The rebels hold the trump card.” This is going to be much more difficult than I thought, Daring mused. Not that that’s unusual. “Their methods of archaeology are a little more direct than yours, Miss Do,” Dr. Brownfield said, cleaning his monocle with a handkerchief. “Even now, they are using magical energy weapons to blast their way through the traps set to guard the treasure. It’s only a matter of time before they reach their goal. “Officially, the city can do nothing. But unofficially …” He looked at the burnt-yellow pegasus, his narrow eyes reminiscent of a reptile's. “I think I understand,” she said. “You want me to go in and get to the treasure before they do. Remove the prize, and their motivation disappears. We negotiate release of the hostages, and nopony gets hurt.” “Precisely. Can you help us?” It was far too dangerous. Her enemies would be armed with tremendous firepower and a license to kill. She had read about the atrocities the Iron Wings had committed in the past. With them, she would be lucky to get a bullet through her skull. But then, her mind turned to the hostages trapped by those monsters. She imagined a group of foals huddled together, cowering in fear from grinning soldiers holding assault rifles. It was simple, really. Those artifacts must be protected, those foals had to be saved, and she was the only pony in the world with the experience to handle such a deadly maze. She had already made her decision. “I’ll do it. How am I going in?” The ponies sitting across from her looked uncomfortable. Brownfield chuckled nervously. “That is the question of the hour, Miss Do.” She was indignant. “You expect me to sneak past an entire army of insurgents, into a cave filled with death traps, past a group of soldiers armed with magical energy weapons, and remove hundreds of pounds of treasure, without being seen? Are you out of your minds?” “The resources of the city are at your disposal …” “You don’t understand. What you’re asking me to do isn’t madness. It’s suicide.” “Be reasonable, Miss Do,” Dr. Brownfield said, lighting a cigar. “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear. If it’s money you want, name your price.” She stood to her hooves, irate. “What do you take me for, a bounty hunter? I’m not doing this for monetary gain, but for ...” She stopped short. Alright. If that’s the way they work in this town, then I’ll play their little game. “Wait. How much money are we talking about?” The monocled pony smiled, blowing out a cloud of smoke. “Now we’re talking.”
Chapter 2"Excuse me, sir." The street musician glanced up, his face gaunt. "Yeah? Wha'da ya want?" The old-fashioned guitar he was playing looked like it might fall apart at any moment. "I hear that you have connections with the Warpaws," Daring Do said, nonchalantly. "Do you know where I can find them?" The pony diverted his gaze. "I don't know nothin'." He kicked a tin can toward her with a back hoof. Taking his hint, she dropped a few bits into the can. He looked around nervously, and motioned for her to lean in close. "Look, lady. Them diamond dogs are trouble. All they good for is cheatin' and druggin'." "I'm fully aware that they are not model citizens. But, I've got a little problem that only they can help me solve." "Take it from somepony who knows," the musician stated, "even if ya can get the dogs' help, no problem is bigger than the hurt they'll give ya. They'd stab their own ma over a piece of moldy ham." Daring Do was undaunted. "Your advice is duly noted and appreciated. Take me to them." * * * As the musician and the archaeologist galloped through the city, the streets became darker and the buildings even more derelict. The ponies that they passed seemed like shadows, winking in and out of existence in the corners and alleyways. Her load of two heavy briefcases made their quick pace difficult, but Daring Do pressed forward. In the middle of a street lined with bars and disreputable shops, her guide stopped abruptly. "The padrone, Old Scruff, he and I don't get along as well as we used to. I'd rather my meat stay attached to my bones, so I can't take you no farther." Daring nodded. "So, which way do I go?" "Down," he said, tapping a manhole cover with his hoof. "Don't worry 'bout findin' 'em. I bet they give ya a nice, warm welcome." It took both of them to lift the heavy metal plate, but soon she was descending into the abyss on a rusted ladder. "Good luck," he called after her as he lowered the briefcases down on a rope. His voice reverberated through the tunnel. "Ya'll need it." This wasn't Daring Do's first time in a sewer, but the stench was still overpowering. Grunting with the effort, the musician slid the cover back in place, sealing the mare in complete darkness. She quickly pulled out a flashlight. The flickering yellow beam revealed a thin sidewalk running alongside a river of bubbling waste. Choosing to follow the flow of the current, she cautiously made her way forward. With each step, her hooves oozed half an inch into muck. Her uneasiness grew with each minute that passed. Where is this 'warm welcome' he was talking about? Whatever that was, she hoped to be able to avoid it. I definitely don't want the diamond dogs getting the advantage in this situation. That could end badly. Suddenly, a shiver ran up her spine. Daring Do had the distinct feeling she was being watched. Her ears perked. The only noise was the sound of her own breathing. She turned her head in time to see beady yellow eyes and glistening, grinning fangs. Reflexively, her wings flared and she jumped into the air, but a huge paw caught her by the tail and stuffed her into a scratchy burlap sack. "Pony thinks she is so sneaky," said a deep, gravely voice, whose owner sounded very pleased with himself. "Stop wiggling like a little fish. We won't kill you. Master likes his meat fresh."
Chapter 3With a painful thud, Daring Do hit the floor. Even for her steel nerves, being nearly suffocated in a small, dark bag was difficult to handle. She thrashed about, trying to escape. She heard a murmur from all around her. A distinct, nasal voice came from somewhere above. “Don’t tell me, let me guess. You found another one of those delicious rats?” “No, master. It is pony.” “Well, it makes little difference,” the ‘master’ said. “Any pony stupid enough to enter my sewers is no better than a maggot, let alone a rodent. Call my chef in here. I’m thinking that slow-roasting this little morsel alive will be very entertaining, not to mention quite tasty.” “If you so much as lay a finger on me, you’re done for,” Daring Do snarled. “Is that so?” the master chuckled. “Well, then. I guess I’ll have to use my hind legs.” A vicious kick sent her tumbling. When she landed, one of the briefcases dug into her lower back, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming in pain. Gasping for air, Daring Do gritted her teeth. “I’m warning you. I have a document signed by the chief of police. It says that if I don’t make it out of here, he is going to hunt you down and personally take you into custody. There’s plenty they can charge you with, regardless of whether I live or die. So you’d better watch yourself.” “The pony is prepared. I like it. Release her.” Daring Do heard the top of the bag being untied, and was summarily dumped on the floor, her briefcases landing on top of her. Pushing one of them off her nose, she stood and quickly judged her surroundings. A cave lit only by two fires. A large stone chair. Grotesque hounds in a large circle around her. A stench even worse than the rest of the sewers. A wizened, nearly hairless mutt stepped forward. “I am Old Scruff, master of the Warpaws, and your host for this evening’s dinner party.” Behind a small pair of round spectacles, his beady green eyes almost twinkled. “You must have some heck of a reason to go to all this trouble of getting captured. Care to enlighten me?” “All I need is a little help. In return, I offer these.” She unlatched the briefcases and opened them with a flourish. Inside, hundreds of rare gemstones sparkled, refracting the firelight into glimmering rainbows. Old Scruff ran a paw through the stash, letting gems rain down between his fingers. “You certainly know how to get my attention. What ‘help’ could a old hound like me give someone like you?” “As I’m sure you’re aware, the Iron Wings are trying to force their way into King Leonidas’ trove. It’s my duty to put that treasure where it belongs: a museum. But, I can’t get past their soldiers at the main entrance. There’s only one way I can get to the prize first. I have to go around them.” The master looked quizzical. “How?” “Simple. You and your friends are miners, correct?” His chest swelled with pride. “The best and the fastest in the world.” “Right. I need you to dig me a way into that cave, immediately.” Old Scruff pondered this. “So, what’s to stop me from just taking these gems for myself, and letting you dig your own blasted tunnel?” “These are just a down payment.” Daring Do smiled. “There’s a dozen times as much waiting for you, all yours if you help me.” He was quite literally salivating over the prospect. “But it’s not just that,” Daring Do continued. “As I understand it, the Iron Wings are your enemies. Wouldn’t it be just great if they got to the end of their search to find that the treasure was already gone?” The old dog grinned toothlessly. “You’ve got a point there.” He rubbed his paws together in delight. He seemed a little bit too eager, actually. Daring Do shot him down. “Don’t even think about taking the bounty for yourself. If my math is right, the tunnel should take me to somewhere in the middle of the cave. It’s filled with traps that only a seasoned professional - like myself - could keep from setting off. Unless you want to become mincemeat, you’ll leave the treasure hunting to me.” His gaze darkened. “You drive a hard bargain, pony.” He reached out a gnarled paw for a shake. “But one that I simply can’t refuse.” * * * After giving precise instructions on where and how the tunnel was to be excavated, Daring Do rushed back up the surface. There was one more piece of the puzzle that she had to fit into place. Back in her hotel room, she dialed the royal palace in Canterlot. Soon, the operator connected her to her target. “Hello? Yes, it’s Daring Do. Remember that favor you owe me? Well. It’s time.”
