Daring-Do and the Griffon's Goblet

by Sebbaa

Chapter 2

Daring looked down on Canterlot's white marble spires through the glass windows that made up the entire front of the bridge; the city was shining golden in the light of the afternoon sun. She watched as it slowly passing beneath the flying ship.

“Alright captain, this I were I'll be off!” she exclaimed, turning from the windows, and headed for the side door.

“Arr, and here I thought we’d be partying all night, before ye be getting back to thee adventuring!” Buddeldot replied with a disappointed scowl.

The pegasus gave her a apologetic smile. “Sorry old friend, but you know I can’t stop myself when presented with an opportunity for adventure.”

The captain nodded. “Yar, that be true,” she replied. Her eyes became unfocused, staring right through Daring, as if they were looking into a world far away in time and space. “Used to be the same when I was young as ye are, never staying in one port longer than it took to waste me bits on stallions and rum, always chasing the horizon.”

Do looked at her curious, her head tilted slightly. Buddeldot looked no older than Daring was, a few years if any. “Is this some of your sailor’s yarn Buddeldot? I can never tell if you are serious or make this stuff up!” she inquired, distressed. “Besides, I have never seen you stay in any port longer than your mission required you to.”

The earth pony chuckled and smiled dreamily. “Just this here one port lass, just this one,” she said, then quickly went serious and took a step to follow Daring to the door. “So what shall I be doing with this here griffon rock?” she asked, pointing her hoof at the artifact still hanging suspended from the ship's gondola. “Be it worth some bits on the black market?” she added with a mocking grin.

Daring was taken aback by the question; she thought about it for a second. “Drop it off at the Canterlot Museum and give them my regards,” she answered, then put on a taunting smirk and added: “Or are you going back to your pirating days Captain?”

Buddeldot waved it off with her hoof. “Was joking lass. Luna would be flaying me alive if I were to ever break me vows.” She put a hoof to her chin and thought for a second, then actually had to chuckle. She shook her head. “Nay, being a navy captain ain’t so bad. The museum will get yer stone face.”

The two mares looked at each other for a moment, then embraced, and patted each other on the back. “Fair winds Daring. Come by whenever ye be seeing me ship on thy travels. We might be sharing that buddle of rum yet!” Buddeldot said.

“Will do Captain!” answered Daring. They ended the hug, the pegasus stepped to the door and opened it. Wind began rustling her mane and tail. “Take care!” she said, waved her hoof, and simply let herself fall backwards out of the flying ship.

It was evening when Daring-Do trotted down the plaza in front of the great Canterlot Library, her hooves clipping and clopping on the cobblestones as she went. She was wearing a fresh shirt of many pockets without any rips, stains or cuts. She was clean, her mane combed, yet she was still sporting the same old pith-helmet, showing off its many dents, burns and holes like badges.

The place was almost deserted at this hour. Only the occasional student running late on a deadline would come galloping from the library and quickly head for his dormitory. The cozy little cafés around the plaza were already closed and there were no bars or clubs this close to the campus of the Canterlot University.

She was just passing the middle of the plaza when a strange sound made her ears twitch, she wheeled around lightning fast and braced for a fight. Her eyes darted around the alleys that led to the plaza, the doors and windows of the surrounding houses, and finally up to the roofs and the occasional cloud in the sky. She stood this way for a few seconds, attracting stares from the passersby, before she let out the breath she was holding and relaxed.
“Nothing. Must be imagining things. Not used to city-life anymore,” she mumbled to herself and resumed heading for the library.

The entrance hall of the library was large; it had a high ceiling supported by marble pillars. It gave her the impression of entering a temple of knowledge. At the back of the hall was a single oaken desk, darkened by age. On it lay piles of returned books, and behind it stood a single clerk, going through the books with a stamp, and filing them in his papers.

“I'm sorry, but we are closed. Come back tomorrow,” he said in a monotone voice when he heard her hooves clapping on the well-worn marble floor, never looking up from his work.

Daring was undeterred; she walked up to the desk, and cleared her throat. Slowly the brown stallion looked up from his work. “I told you we are clo. . .” he began with an annoyed tone, but the words stuck in his throat when he set eyes upon her. He coughed and quickly gathered himself.
“Oh, good evening lady Do. I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you at once,” he stammered, his eyes twitching nervously.

Daring chuckled and waved it off. “Don't sweat it. Can I go in now?”

“Ah yes of course, Lady Do. The library is always open for Fellows of the Royal Society,” he answered quickly, and pointed a welcoming hoof at the double staircases that led to the gallery above and the rest of the library.

She gave him a friendly nod, then trotted up the staircase with a happy stride, her wings extended, her hooves barely touching the ground.

At this hour only the few ponies who were both privileged and either desperate or nocturnal were searching through endless rows of bookcases or reading on one of the many tables or pillows that were spread around the library in small niches. The magic lamps which lit the library at night were sparse and shrouded the place in an eerie, blue twilight. Visitors relied on mouth-held firefly lamps or illumination spells to light their reading.

The part of the library Daring walked through was utterly silent. No hoof-fall, no turning pages, not even the breath of anypony other than herself could be heard. She walked gently, her hooves hardly making a sound. When she reached a heavy, wooden door on a far wall she stopped, and looked over her shoulder. Sure of being undisturbed, she focused her attention back to the door. It was reinforced with steel fittings and had a massive lock. With a shake of her head she dropped her helmet on her hooves and drew a lock-pick hidden in the lining with her teeth. “Never thought I would need Black Rose's tricks this often,” she mumbled to herself as she put her hat back on.

With a final glance over her shoulder she sat to work on the lock, carefully inserting the pick and trying to feel the mechanism. But when her snout touched the door it swung open silently. Daring stared at it in wonder, and the lock-pick fell from her mouth. She quickly composed herself and put the pick back in her helmet. “Unlocked? Hinges oiled? This is not good,” she whispered, and started to sneak up the spiraling staircase.

By the time she reached the top floor she was crouching, her belly almost dragging on the ground. The door that led from the staircase was ajar too. She pushed it open an inch with her head and peeked through the gap. The room she saw was circular. Through several windows, barred with steel bars, shone the light of the setting sun, just bright enough to make out contours. For a moment Daring couldn't make out any sign of an intruder, then she saw it. From further back shone the greenish light of a firefly lamp. Daring opened the door a bit further and slid through the gap. She closed the it behind her, careful not to make any sound.

She snaked over the marble floor quickly and pressed herself against the bookcase wall behind which came the light, then peeked her head around the corner.

There was a pony standing in front of a wooden table, its body hidden under a dark-gray, hooded cloak. A firefly lamp was standing on the table, lighting several old maps lying on the furniture. The pony was spreading one out with its hooves and leaned close to examine it.

Daring stood tall and craned her neck to get a look at the map. Her eyes widened, and she let out an audible gasp when she recognized the landmarks. The pony yanked its head around, saw her, grabbed the map in its teeth and dashed away. The mare took up the chase.

The map thief was fast on his hooves and outdistanced her until he came to a corner. His legs flailed wildly as he grasped for traction and skittered into a bookcase. She pounced at him as he pushed himself from the wall and slid over the polished marble floor, avoiding her by inches. The mare crashed into the bookcase. This time some of the top volumes fell from their place and buried her in a heap. When she shook herself free, the other pony had almost reached the door. Even when galloping his hooves were hardly making a sound. She looked closer to see he had wrapped his hooves in thick cloth. “Black Rose would be proud of you!” she murmured to herself, and dashed in pursuit.

The thief was through the door and closed it behind him, a split second before she could grapple him. Daring crashed into the door headfirst, and stumbled to the ground. She quickly got up, and shook her head to clear her vision. A predatory snarl escaped her throat as she yanked the door back open. She raced down the spiraling staircase in a daring gallop.

They continued the chase through the main library, throwing over more bookcases, galloping over tables, sending the notes of students flying. When they finally left the library, jumping through a ground level window, Daring was hot on his heels.

The alleyways of central Canterlot were like a labyrinth. Buildings were seemingly placed at random, their upper stories leaning over the narrow alleys below, any of which could lead to a main street, a network of small alleys, or a dead-end.

If anything, the map thief sped up when they came onto the cobblestone streets. Galloping on the rough surface tore the cloth from his hooves, and left him clipping and clopping loudly on the stones. His hooves struck glowing sparks as he went.

They passed through the eastern market, and she had to evade empty market stalls, he threw over when he passed them. When they once again entered the narrow alleys, a sound from behind made her ears twitch, and she looked over her shoulder without slowing down. Three earth ponies had joined the chase, galloping after her in hot pursuit. They were not wearing any uniform and one of them was a hulking draft horse. But there was no time to consider where they'd come from, or what they wanted. Her map was getting away!

They entered an alley that was actually a long tunnel; the buildings on each side were connected by walled bridges. When he came to the far end the thief tried to get through a doorway, rattling at the handle and kicking the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He was trapped! She stopped a few feet before him and took a wide stance, sweat stood on her face, and her shirt was soaked. She was gasping for air, but grinned nonetheless at having him cornered. She was just about to say something, when the clopping of hooves behind her reminded her that there were more ponies taking part in this chase. She turned halfway around to have both parties in her sight.

“There is nowhere left to run Daring-Do! Hoof over the map of the Lost Kingdom and nopony will get hurt,” demanded the biggest of her three pursuers. He was a massive earth pony with a gray coat, shaved head, and a sledgehammer cutie mark. She involuntarily stepped backwards as he and his companions advanced along the alley.

“I don't have a map!” exclaimed the pegasus forcefully.

That only made the bruiser snort in contempt. “We saw you enter the Library and leave in a hurry. Don't play dumb!” he replied angrily.

“I don't have it! This pony here got there before me and took the map!” she answered, annoyed, and presented the map thief with her hoof. He was still working on the door and had tried his best to stay out of the other pony's attention. But now that everypony was looking at him, he turned to face Daring and the three thugs and braced for combat.

“So your new sidekick has it. Same difference. Hoof over the map!” spat the big guy as he advanced further, his head lowered menacing.

“You shadowed me and didn't notice I was chasing this pony? What kind stupid goons are you? Sidekick, really?” she yelled back at them in disbelief.

“I am not her sidekick!” protested the accused pony strongly. His voice was a solid baritone. It only managed to provoke a chuckle from the bald pony and laughter from his fellows. The map bearer rolled his eyes.

The goons started advancing again, and Daring-Do found herself pushed further back until she was standing beside the thief, her back to the wall.

“So you are Daring-Do? The famous adventurer?” he asked her, not turning his attention from the advancing stallions.

“The same! You want an autograph or something?” she snapped back at him. He let out a sigh.

“No! . . .well, maybe later. But right now, I say we work together to get out of this mess. I promise I won't run anymore,” he said, his voice lowered almost to a whisper.

“Deal!” replied Daring. “Can you fight?”

He snorted. “Just keep the small flies of my back, I'll handle the big one!” he answered with a confident smirk.

“Oi! What are you two love birdies whispering about?” spat the bruiser and raised his hooves for a punch.

With one lightning fast motion the hooded pony grabbed his cloth in his teeth, and whirled it into the big guy's face; the stallion staggered backwards as he tried to get the cloak off himself. Before he could do so a pine green streak had tackled him, grabbed his neck and flung itself onto his back, twisting the cloak further around his head in the process.

Daring too had jumped into motion, her reflexes and agility matching that of a panther. The two smaller goons were distracted by the sudden turn of events and looked up to their leader instead of her. With one quick dash she was in front of one of them, wheeled around on her forehooves sharply, and bucked him right in the face. He was flung backwards, and hit the ground on his back. He lost consciousness before his body slid to rest.

The sledgehammer pony bucked, and flailed his legs, trying to get the earth pony off his back. The colt held onto him with his hindlegs as he raised his hooves to strike. He slammed them onto both sides of the goon's head like striking cobras. The bruiser let out a startled grunt, and his struggles ceased at once. He stumbled a few steps, fell to his side, and didn't get up again.

The little pony had jumped clear of the falling body, and he and Daring were facing down the last of their assailants. The later took a look at his beaten companions, then at the angry ponies advancing on him, and jumped into a headless gallop to get away from them.

She let out a sigh, took off her hat and swiped the sweat from her brow, before she turned to face the colt and put her helmet back. He ruffled his fiery orange mane and gave her a sheepish smile. She examined him, her head tilted slightly. He was no taller than her and had the sinewy build of a hungry wolf, a half-pint, a lightweight compared to the lumbering hulk he had dispatched in mere seconds. She would bet bits that he was still attending school. “How did you do that? Finish him in one stroke?” she asked, but the answer presented itself when her gaze fell on his cutie mark: Two axes crossed before a round shield, a fighting cutie mark.

He clopped his two forehooves together, which made a metallic clang. “Steel horse-shoes,” he explained, not following her gaze. “Standard military issue.”

Daring nodded slowly, quickly closing her mouth when she noticed that it was hanging open. The colt looked away and traced his hoof along the ground bashfully. “I think I owe you an explanation!” he said. She nodded again.

He straightened himself and cleared his throat. “I am Bulwark, son of Vanguard. I'm looking for my father.”

They were sitting at a coffee table in the garden of a classical-era Canterlot manor. The sheer size of the grounds alone had left Bulwark speechless. Finally the steward arrived, bringing a steaming pot of tea. The old, blue unicorn gently levitated the fine china and poured a cup for both of them, then sat the pot down on the table and bowed his head. If he was distressed by serving afternoon tea at midnight with only moonlight to illuminate his work, he didn't show it. When Daring gave him a satisfied nod, he walked off, back into the manor.

“So is this private enough for you? Can we talk now?” asked the colt, clopping his hoof on the table to underline his point, making all the china clatter.

Daring paid the impatient youth no heed. She took her cup in her hooves and took a long sip. “Ah, nothing like a cup of Earl Cloudgrey after a long day of adventuring! Don't you agree?”

Bulwark tilted his head slightly and raised one eyebrow, but found that she was indeed not joking. He looked down at his own cup and considered this for a second, then simply lowered his mouth, and drank straight from the cup standing on the table. He emptied it in one go, and wiped his mouth with the back of his fetlock. He shot the pegasus who was still sipping her tea another curious glance. “You're not doing this just to show off, are you?” he asked.

Daring almost spat out what she was drinking. She quickly sat down the cup and shook her head violently. “No! Of course not. I would never prance about and show off my family’s wealth. You take me for Prince Blueblood or something?” she defended herself. “I only ever show off what I achieved on my own!” She finally told him and pushed the pith-helmet she was still wearing deeper into her face, showing off it's marks from countless adventures.

The colt nodded slowly. “Fair enough. But I will admit, this is an impressive home you got here.”

She took a scone from a plate on the table in her mouth, then took her tea back to her hooves and leaned back. “Yea, 'eing Cansherlot nowilishy hash itsh perksh. It'sh a nishe plashe to stay for a few daysh after ventshuring through a shick jungle for three monthsh,” she mumbled with her mouth full, then took another sip of tea and sat it back down. She leaned forward on the table, her eyes reflecting the moonlight, staring with an intensity that made him flinch. “But enough about me! Let's talk about you, and why you stole that map.”

He gathered himself quickly before he replied. “Because they wouldn’t give me access to the forbidden archive, duh!” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“So you just stole it?” inquired Daring.

Bulwark gestured bewildered with both of his forelegs. “It's not like anypony got hurt. And right back at you! You're a member of the Royal Society, you could have just asked for access. Instead you snuck in there at night, just like I did.”

She had to chuckle at that remark. “It would have taken days, maybe weeks to get all the paperwork through, and where would be the fun in that anyway?”

His eyes widened in bewilderment. “Fun? You think this was fun?”

She nodded eagerly, sporting a wide, toothy grin. “Of course! The sneaking, the chase, then the fighting! Don't tell me you didn't have fun?”

He shook his head deliberately. “No,” he replied, stretching the word just a bit too much. Daring chuckled once more and waved it off.

“That's not what I wanted to know anyway,” she said, leaning closer once again. “Why did you need the map in the first place?!”

“I'm looking for my father. . .” he started but was interrupted by a wave of her hoof.

“Yes, yes, you already said so. Vanguard right? The famous explorer, first pony to set hoof on the North-pole?” she inquired.

He nodded and waited a second, anticipating if she were to interrupt him again. When she seemed content to listen, he started again. “As you might know my father vanished ten years ago when he was on an expedition to find the Lost Kingdom. Nopony has found a trace of the expedition ever since.” He reached for his brown saddlebags that were standing next to the table, and took out an old worn notebook. It was rather thick, held together by cord, and had several loose pages inserted into it.

“This is my father's diary. He left it to me in his will, to be given to me only when I came of age. I got hold of it a month ago. It describes in detail his search for the Lost Kingdom, up to the point where he set sail. I think he wanted me to carry on his search. He was rather obsessed with it; he wrote about a legendary artifact of godlike power that is said to be hidden in the Kingdom.”

“The Griffon's Goblet!” exclaimed Daring, slowly nodding to herself. “The drinking cup said to have belonged to Discord himself. The last remnant of his chaotic power in this world.”

“The same. You're looking for it too? That's why you are after the map, right?” he replied.

She nodded briefly. “I only started my search recently when I came across sources that indicated the Goblet to be more than a mere legend. And they led me to this,” she explained, pulling the screened map she had taken from the Stone Head of Highever and spread it on the table. “This is a map that was kept secret by the Huscarls of the Elements. The order stole the Goblet from Discord and hid it away, robbing the Spirit of Chaos of its power. They left this map in case they ever needed to find the Goblet again.”

“See, the map shows the way in detail with landmarks and hints written in these verses,” she explained as both of them bowed over the map.

He nodded slowly. “So, what's the problem? Why don't you just fly in there and take the Goblet? It's what you do, right?”

“It's not that easy. See that lake here with the city right next to it? This is the starting point of this map, but it is missing a name,” she said and pointed her hoof at the city.

Realization hit Bulwark, he quickly got the map he had taken from the library from his bag, and spread it next to Daring's. The map was bigger than hers, but showed a much larger region, so it was less detailed. However, they could make out a lot of matching landmarks. They found the lake and the city in no time.

“Sanarth? Never heard of that city!” said the colt and shook his head.

Daring put a hoof to her chin, thinking, as her eyes scanned the rest of the map. They lit up and a clever smirk crept on her face. “Neither have I, but I know this city!” she exclaimed and put her hoof to a dot on the map, that lay next to an ocean about half a hoof from Sanarth.

“Manedria,” Bulwark read out loud. He raised his brows, and was speechless when he recognized the the name. He looked up to Daring who sported her trademark smile.

“Pack your bags Bulwark, we are going to Neighgypt!”

Two massive stallions threw a yellow-coated earth pony to the hooves of their boss. They were wearing black suits, and their manes were trimmed professionally short.

“So, Golden Song, isn't it? I hear you've got a report to make,” the unicorn sitting alone at the head of a large table, that could easily have seated two dozen ponies, asked, and he was not amused.
Golden Sun cringed at the question, but forced himself to look up none the less, cold sweat was standing on his brow.

“It wasn't my fault mister president sir!” he stammered, but was silenced promptly when the unicorn smashed his wineglass over Sun's head, drenching his brown mane in Bordeaux.

“That's for me to decide. Now report you coward! And don't think you can lie to me!” snapped the royal blue stallion threateningly, anger flaring in his eyes. Song swallowed hard and avoided eye contact.

“After Daring-Do had left the library we followed her, and a cloaked colt through the streets of Canterlot. We finally managed to trap them in a dead-end. We thought we had them and Big Hammer told her to give us the map,” he started telling, and let his head sink when he came to the next part. “Without warning the cloaked one jumped him. He moved so fast, he was like a blur. He took out Hammer in the blink of an eye! By the time I even realized what happened Daring had knocked out Sweet Hooves. When they faced me, I saw that the colt had a fighting cutie mark! I retreated so I could report!” He nodded frantically, and put on a hopeful smile at the end of his report, looking up to his boss.

The unicorn put down the silver cutlery and interrupted his meal of lettuce and caviar salad. He dabbed the corners of his mouth with a silken napkin, levitating it with his magic, before he faced Song again, rising one of his eyebrows. “A fighting cutie mark you say? Tell me more about this colt!”

The minion bowed his head obediently. “He was a pine green earth pony with a shoulder length orange mane. His cutie mark was two axes crossed before a shield,” he described as best as his memory served him.

“Hmm, interesting. Fighting is a rare special talent. Maybe the Guard is interfering with our plans,” he mused, putting a hoof to his chin. He turned halfway around to face a pony standing in the corner of the room. “Find out who that colt is! We have to know if he is one of the Princess' ponies!” he ordered. The addressed pony bowed.

“And what about Daring-Do, mister president?”

The dining pony thought about that for a few seconds, swaying his new glass of wine a servant had poured for him. He took a sip before he finally spoke up. “If I know Daring-Do, she will leave the city first thing in the morning, now that she has the map. Have all trains, carriages and airships that leave the city monitored. Have our local pegasi patrol the skies in case the featherflank decides to just wing it. We will follow her, watch her every step, and then strike when she least expects it!” His glass snapped under the magic pressure as he spoke the last words and spilled its content on the floor. Two servants galloped over immediately to clean up the mess. The pony in the corner bowed one more time and exited the room through a side door.

“So, back to you.,” said the President as he turned to the cowering Golden Song once again.
“You know how the Equestrian Patriots punish ponies who fail in their duty.”

Golden Song's face went almost white he threw himself to the ground before his boss.
“Oh please, it won't happen again! I promise I will do better.” he plead, desperately.

The unicorn stood up from the table to stand before his minion. He gently put a hoof on the trembling pony's shoulder, which made him look up. The boss showed him a benevolent smile.
“I know you will, and I would personally be glad to give you a second chance!” he said forgiving. Hope flashed on the earth ponies face as he heard these words. “But!” continued the boss and took a step back from Golden Song, whose face went to blank terror again instantly. “I fear I have to abide our rules. I'm so sorry, but there is no other way.” His sadistic smile made his words lies. “Take him to the soap factory!” he ordered the two suited stallions and went back to his place at the table.

Without hesitating the two goons took the stunned pony and began to drag him out of the room. He started to struggle half way but was unable to get out of their iron grip.
“Please no! Please give me a second chance!” he begged pitifully. “My wife is with foal! Please!”

“Stop!” ordered the president and raised his hoof. His minions held where they stood, not letting go of Golden Song. As the unicorn trotted over to him, the earth pony allowed himself the faintest glimmer of hope.

His boss leaned over him until his face was next to Golden's ear. “I have a thing for pregnant widows. I think I will visit yours and comfort her!” he whispered and licked his lips. Song froze in terror, his eyes shrank to tiny little dots, and his heart skipped a beat. He was dragged on and only recovered when he was out of the room. His screams were muffled by the closing door.

The president laughed and continued his dinner.