Light’s Edge said the sign leading into town, to which ninety percent of ponies would’ve responded, “Later,” and booked it out of there. But Daring Do wasn’t ninety percent of ponies. She wasn’t even ninety-nine point nine percent of ponies. Light’s Edge had actually been her destination, and seconds after Daring had crossed the town lines, she realized it was a far, far, far nicer town than its name implied. Ridiculously nice, even. It was a certain… She didn’t know what. It was a certain je ne sais quoi that hung in the air and gave you a spring in your step. The quiet beauty of trees encased in ice after an ice storm, the crisp smell of pines and firs on a clear winter day, the ember of hot cocoa in a blizzard. And that was even with the mild snowstorm the town was going through at the moment; inconvenient weather was expected when you lived this far into the Frozen North and pegasi couldn’t control it.

She could’ve looked back, at the Crystal Mountains spread behind her, at the towering palace of the Crystal Empire far in the distance, but Daring had seen those before. She was only interested in the main street of Light’s Edge, and more specifically, whatever bars it might have. As a minor trading hub between Equestria and Tarandusia, the town had to have at least one bar.

Daring walked down the street, looking at each establishment’s sign and nodded to each reindeer (and occasional pony) she passed. None of them spared her a second glance; obviously, they were experienced with ponies. The buildings themselves were stone with wooden frames; rough, but solid. Barely anything in the way of keeping the walls flat, but when Daring took a close look at the walls, she couldn’t see anything that indicated the walls were less than superbly designed. Some of the buildings further down the street and closer to the mountains were built in the turf style, with grassy walls helping to keep the heat in. The signs sticking out from the buildings were worn, beaten, and very very tough. Absolutely nothing in the town was less than functional. Daring would’ve like to take her time, but she still needed to find-

There was one. The Bay Bucker Bar. Perhaps a bit unfortunately named, given Equestrian slang, but the alliteration was nice. (Although for all Daring knew, the name was deliberate.) Daring pushed open the door and stepped inside. The floor was practically snow itself, with so much tracked in. She took a deep breath through her nose. Warm (relatively speaking), packed with patrons, and the food they were making smelled fantastic. Her first stop, and she could already tell she’d find everyone she needed right here.

With a few mumbled “Sorry”s, she pushed her way through the crowd to the bar itself. The reindeer bartender was standing in front of her before she could take a seat. Daring preempted her. “I’m going on an expedition,” Daring said, “and I’m looking for people to join me. Protectors, guards, mountaineers, guides, anyone like that. Got any names?” She scooped a small stack of bits from one of her bags, dropped it on the bar, and pushed it toward the bartender. “And some warm cider, while you’re at it,” she added, tipping a few more coins onto the pile. “Keep the change.”

“You all meet in a bar” (or tavern, or inn, or alehouse, or…) was the eternal starting cliché of Ogres & Oubliettes players, but that was because meeting at a bar was a perfectly logical place to start. They served beer. Friends often met there. They served beer. They had a ready-made audience for adventurers to brag to about their heroic deeds. They served beer. They were the social center for towns. And, of course (and most importantly), they served beer. Coupled with Light’s Edge being a not uncommon stopover for trade caravans in need of guards and guides, Daring’s confidence that she could hire a few assistants here was through the roof.

After a quick glance at the pile of coins, the bartender looked around the room a bit, then pointed at a corner. “See the deer back there?” she said. “With the notch in her antlers?” Daring twisted and peered through the crowd. There she was: a bulky reindeer with an impressive set of antlers. Even at this distance, she obviously had a few scars on her face. “Rangifera. Bit of a mercenary, but don’t call her that. Good fighter, loyal, good rates, and she knows people who know people. If you can’t get everyone you need through her, you won’t find them here. And…” She swapped the bits with a steaming mug of cider.

Daring nodded, grabbed her cider, and forced her way through the crowd to Rangifera’s table. As she approached, the reindeer looked up and waved. She was big and well-muscled, even for a reindeer, and her antlers were even more impressive up close. Her coat was a mixture of deep, milky chocolate and cream, beautiful even with its scars. For Rangifera was scarred, all over; a sickle curled across her chest, lightning bolts ran down her legs, a line traced down the right side of her face, barely missing her eye, and that was when Daring stopped counting. Leaning forward as Daring sat down opposite her, she said, “Well, aren’t you a mare on a mission, my forthright foreigner.” Already, Daring could see anticipation dancing in her emerald eyes.

“Name’s Daring Do,” said Daring. “Looking for a job?”

Light’s Edge wasn’t Daring’s final destination, just the last stop on the way there, as it sat right next to Needle Vale. Long, deep, thin, and running due north straight into the heart of the Crystal Mountains, Needle Vale was infamous for constant bad-even-for-the-Frozen-North weather, bordering on actively hostile. The winds simply never ceased, always strong enough to bring down all but the hardiest pegasi in moments, and the hardiest pegasi would still follow soon after. Whether because of the depth of the valley or the snow getting whipped up by the wind, nopony knew, but Needle Vale was also perpetually shrouded in clouds, preventing anyone who flew above the storms from getting a good look at the valley. Those who braved it on hoof reported a dense forest lurking within a labyrinthine network of stone pillars and ravines smothered in a haze of wind-whipped snow that dropped visibility to nothing. The storm had been there when the first records of Needle Vale were scribbled down and hadn’t stopped since.

Naturally, between the strange weather and the evocative landscape, Needle Vale had attracted something of a reputation. It was cursed, this group said, because of the sins of ponies in the past. (The fact that most of the people living in the area weren’t ponies didn’t deter them.) It’d been a site for magical experiments, that group said, and the experiments had wrong, contaminating the area with arcane energy. (That group couldn’t even agree on the type of experiments, though; large-scale non-pegasus weather manipulation, forgotten superweapons, portals to other worlds, necromancy, and seeing the future were all suggested.) It was an area with naturally bad vibes, those ponies said, since the straightness of Needle Vale being perpendicular to the Crystal Mountains obviously meant it was a conjunction between opposing ley lines.

That was without getting into the stories about the Vale in various pony and reindeer mythologies. Those were even more varied: the site of some monster being slain, some grievous atrocity committed, the place where the gods first physically manifested, the birthplace of the windigos, whatever. The short version was that there were a lot of legends about Needle Vale, both modern and ancient, urban and tribal.

Daring knew, better than anyone, that legends were usually based around a grain of truth. There had to be something in there. Her plan was simple: visit Light’s Edge, head into Needle Vale, and find whatever the heck was in there. Easy. It’d be a great adventure.

There was only one flaw with that logic.

“Needle Vale?” Rangifera asked. “Seriously?” Any sense of expectation had dropped from her voice, leaving it flat and lifeless. She shook her head. “You’re new here, aren’t you, my daft delver? There’s nothing out there.”

“I’ve done my research,” said Daring, “and there’s all sorts of stories and legends-”

“-that are nothing more than stories and legends,” interrupted Rangifera. “Yes, it’s a weird place. But people — deer, ponies, yaks, even griffons — go in there all the time. You know what happens to them? Nothing.” She slashed through the air for emphasis. “They come right back out here, bringing out nothing to show for their efforts except maybe some frostbite and hypothermia.”

Daring took another sip of her cider. The warmth running through her veins gave her brain an extra jolt. “I don’t think they’ve gone in far enough. Do you really think a place like that just happens to exist?”

“Yes,” said Rangifera bluntly. “Not everything needs to have a reason. Aren’t you Equestrians supposed to be used to weird stuff like that? You’ve got wings, my pretty pegasus.” Before Daring could respond, Rangifera planted her face in her hoof (so oddly large, next to a pony’s hoof) and shook her head. “Do you even know what you’re looking for? Or-”

“Nope!” Daring said cheerfully. (“Oh, stars above,” mumbled Rangifera.) “That’s the great part! It’s a journey into the unknown, where anything can happen!”

“Like us just vanishing?” Rangifera grunted.

“Everyone’s come out! Nobody’s vanished yet!”

“First time for everything.”

“Like getting to the bottom of what’s in Needle Vale.”

“You’re obsessed with this, aren’t you? I can already tell.”

So what if Daring was obsessed? The only difference between obsession and a noble drive was the end result. History vindicated nutjobs so thoroughly ponies forgot they’d been considered nutjobs, and it did that all the time. Still, she knew what would drive potential workers away, so she forced herself to tone down her enthusiasm. “I’m an archaeologist-” she said.

“Uh-huh, sure,” mumbled Rangifera.

“-an archaeologist,” Daring repeated, “and I know that legends can be based on fact. Remember how Nightmare Moon was thought of as a legend, then she popped up in a small town in the middle of Equestria?”

“Who? Oh, her. I… guess.” But Rangifera still didn’t look convinced.

Daring continued, unperturbed. “Nearly every ancient civilization that’s lived around here has some story or another about Needle Vale. All of them. They felt there was something in there. I’m going to find out what. All the others? I did research. They were just adventurers, they didn’t know what to look for. I do.” Daring was perfectly aware that “adventurer” applied to her one hundred percent as well, but she had a formal education. She knew the difference between a pointy piece of flint and a well-made arrowhead. What others might dismiss as a pretty landmark, she could recognize as a carefully-crafted stone circle. She paid attention to subtleties where other adventurers wouldn’t (at least in situations like this; sometimes, she just had to book it before the pyramid imploded, and subtlety was a hindrance).

“Good for you,” said Rangifera, as unconvincing as a politician pretending to be honest.

“And I need somebody for protection,” Daring said. She didn’t really need somebody to protect her; it just couldn’t hurt. “The bartender recommended you. What do you say?”

Rangifera tried shooing Daring away. “Hire all the others you want, but not me. It’s a waste of time. You’ll need to say a lot to get me to go in there.”

“Cash up front.”

Rangifera blinked and stared. Daring smiled. After a moment, Rangifera tilted her head and flicked her ears. “Bits or tacks?” she asked.

“Which do you want? I’ve got both.”

“Tacks. Six thousand for the first ten days.”

And Daring plonked a small pile of very-high-value tacks between them. Rangifera picked through the heap of squarish coins for a moment, then said, obviously trying hard to not grin, “Alright. Consider me yours, my benevolent buyer.”

“And I need a couple more people,” said Daring. “Some sort of mountaineer or guide, and someone moderately skilled with magic. Either a unicorn or a reindeer would do fine, I’m not picky.”

“You need a mountaineer?” Rangifera’s eyes flicked to Daring’s wings.

“In case I can’t fly for some reason. For people like you who can’t fly. For a lot of reasons.” Daring flared her wings. “I heard you could help with that, too.”

It might’ve been Daring’s imagination, but it looked like Rangifera was sitting up a little bit straighter. “Cash up front for them, too?”

“Oh, absolutely. Either kind of currency, too. Get the best ones you can. Money is no object.”

Rangifera nodded. “Right.” She stood up. “Be back here, this table, at sundown and I’ll have your people, my acclaimed archaeologist. This shouldn’t be hard.”

“Great. See you then.”

After Rangifera departed, Daring stayed, cradling her still-warm cider. Easy. This was going to be easy. A few of the right people, and she could have Needle Vale figured out by the end of the week. And if she hadn’t, she would take notes. None of the other adventurers had taken notes, so they only had their own half-remembered stories on what the inside of Needle Vale was like. The least she could do was make things easier for future adventurers. One way or another, she would get something out of this expedition.

Sundown took far too long to come, yet Daring could barely remember anything from when Rangifera left to when she was walking back to the bar. The place was even more crowded than before; Daring was practically buried in bodies as she forced her way through the throng. When she finally found her way to the table, Rangifera was already there, sitting with another, slightly smaller reindeer and a somewhat old unicorn. The three of them all had some kind of drink in front of them and were deep in conversation.

Daring wiggled into an empty chair, catching their attention. “Ah! Perfect!” Rangifera said. “We were just wondering when you would show up. Fallende, Stalwart, my courageous colleagues, this is Daring Do, our excellent employer.”

The reindeer just gave her a small wave and a nod, but the unicorn nearly leaped across the table to shake Daring’s hoof. “Hello, hello!” she said. Up close, she didn’t look that old — early fifties, max — and instead had the hard, worn body of someone who’d spent their entire life getting knocked down and back up again, with a slightly off-kilter jaw. Her coat was a bright, bright red, and her mane and tail (a subdued, orangish yellow) were short enough to be tucked into coverings. Her blue eyes glittered with energy. “Daring Do, right? I’ve heard of you. Secondhoof, obviously, but the stories!” She laughed. “I’ll be! You put the pulpiest of pulp heroes to shame! I’ve been thinking of just running off into Needle Vale myself, just to see what it’s like, so you came at an absolutely perfect time! It’s just one of those stories, you know, where you have to try it for yourself, even if-”

“Yeah. Great.” Daring wrenched her hoof from the unicorn’s grip and put her hat back into the right position. “And you are…?”

“Ah! Apologies.” The unicorn took a step back and clapped a leg across her chest. “Warrant Officer Stalwart Shield, EUP, Retired. Combat and navigational mage for my unit. Well-trained in various arcane arts, can understand most any spell you throw at me, can cast a good number of them, and I can even take care of myself, to boot!” She smiled, nodded, and sat down.

“Three thousand bits for ten days,” Rangifera whispered to Daring. “Don’t let the low price fool you, my skeptical scientist, she’s good.”

Daring nodded and turned to the second reindeer. This one was sleek, shorter and skinnier than Rangifera but with the same colors. Her horns were flawlessly polished and her coat looked like it’d been styled in some way. She was youngish, and the way she held herself reminded Daring of someone on the tail end of adolescence. “Fallende, I presume?” Daring asked.

The reindeer was expressionless as she nodded. “Mountaineer, and I’ll carry your crap through the Needle if that’s what you pay me for.”

Rangifera leaned in before Daring could respond. “Fallende Snø. Don’t let her… word choice fool you, it’s all an act,” Rangifera whispered. “She’s not bitter, just frank and colorful. Two and a half thousand tacks for ten days. Again, very reliable.”

Daring nodded again, this time with slightly clenched teeth. But she forced the feeling down and looked at the three individuals. “So. Rangifera told you both what we’re planning on doing?”

“Indeed!” said Stalwart, practically glowing. “Straight into the Needle itself, that mysterious land! I already told you I wanted to go, didn’t I? Of course I did. But I suppose clarification wouldn’t go amiss, so-”

“Sounds like a fool’s errand,” said Fallende. But then she smiled, and it seemed to lack any kind of resigned sardonicism or mockery. “Fool’s errands are the best errands, or at least the most fun. I tried to go through the Needle once, myself. Didn’t get very far. You sound better prepared. Let’s hope we get farther.”

Daring’s gaze lingered on Fallende, but then she tore herself away. “Right. And, really, that’s all the plan I have right now. How long will it take you to gather supplies? I’d like to leave ASAP.”

“Three days, maximum,” Rangifera said, to vague sounds of assent from Stalwart and Fallende.

“Then let’s meet back here in the morning in four days, and we can get going.”

“Sounds good,” Stalwart said, grinning. “Been a while since I’ve been a part of something like this. Quite invigorating.”

“Fine by me,” Fallende said, shrugging. She leaned forward. “And our pay?”

“Right here.” Daring was already counting out the coins and pushing them to their respective people. “Good?”

Stalwart gave her pile a once-over and put it in a bag. “Good!”

Fallende counted out her pile carefully, twice. When she was satisfied, she shoved it into her own bag. “Good.”

“Then unless you have any-”

“Wait!”

An earth pony stumbled out of the crowd and hit the table. She was skinny, with a pale yellow coat and tired orange eyes. Her sable mane and tail were both braided and she moved like she was forcing herself through tar. She spoke up before anyone else could. “Listen, I’m sorry, I- I know you probably… have enough people for your… expedition into the Needle already, but I heard you were paying in advance, and I, my family really needs some money if we’re going to survive the winter. So… Will degrade self for cash, I guess.”

Daring glanced at Rangifera, who shrugged and said, “It’s your money, my fine financer.” Nodding, Daring asked the earth pony, “What kind of job were you looking for?”

“Lackey,” said the earth pony bluntly. “Whatever you need. I can carry your packs, I can fight off wild animals, I’m decent at climbing, and my special talent’s cartography.” She pulled aside her furs; a sextant decorated her flanks. “It’s, like I said, we need money. I’ll take any just about any pay you give me. Name’s Windrose, by the way.”

“Cartography,” Daring said to herself. Very nice, very nice. No maps of Needle Vale existed. Simply going in and coming back out with a map could be a minor victory. She’d hit the jackpot here, hadn’t she? Four excellent assistants. Already, she felt like nothing could stop her. If- “Can you be ready in the morning in four days?”

Windrose’s ears went up and she held her head a little higher. “Oh, yeah, easy.” She opened her mouth again, then quickly cut herself off.

“Sure. You’re in.” No one made any objections, so Daring turned to Rangifera. “What do you think we should pay her?”

Rangifera thought for a second, then said, “How’s three thousand tacks for ten days sound?” Stalwart sat up a little, her mouth twitching, but didn’t actually say anything.

“Three… thousand… tacks…” Windrose blinked. “That seems a bit muYES! Three thousand tacks, good, yes!” She smiled guilelessly.

Daring almost rolled her eyes. Amateur. If she’d been in a haggling mood, she probably could’ve gotten Windrose to work for her for just one thousand. But she wasn’t, and she had to admit that she was slightly moved by the story of a poor family. She counted out the money. “Three thousand tacks,” she said, and pushed the coins at Windrose.

“Thank you!” gasped Windrose, shoving the coins into her saddlebags. “This’ll be a huge help!”

“Any objections?” Daring asked the table, spreading her wings wide. “To her or the current situation?”

Negative murmurs all around. Rangifera looked like she was thinking of something, Stalwart was grinning, Fallende looked detached, and Windrose seemed ready to explode from gratitude.

“Then, one last time: be here in the morning in four days.” Daring’s heart was already pumping hard in anticipation. “We will get to the bottom of Needle Vale, and nothing’s going to stop us.”