The Search for Redemption

With a twinkle in her eye and a spring in her step, put there by her husband, Bjorke loped easily across the Flats. She had left her horse, Fury, in the hills leading down from the sandy Tanaris. Hoofbeats echoed loudly on the hard, salt-encrusted earth, and moonlight lit up the place. A special job like this required special gear. The pale grey, nearly white leathers, hugged her lithe curves, supplely moving with her. The long, curved blade of her favorite knife was at her back. Not that she needed it this time; it was more of a talisman, like Iophon’s “Lucky Hat.”

“Lucky Hat, my eye,” she chuckled quietly. “The man cheats.” And there was the hut. She lay flat on the ground, using her spyglass to check the area. All was quiet, just as she had expected. She nearly giggled in anticipation. It had been some time since she’d had a “diplomatic mission” like this. Norgoth had laughed at that, knowing exactly what she meant. He wanted done with this business, too.

The only tricky bit would be to make it look… well, not how it looked. Suicide was nearly unheard of in Goblins. Best to make it look like a difference of opinion. An accident under these circumstances just wouldn’t fly.

She crept into the hut, serenaded by the snores of both Goblin and Ogre. Over the past year, she’d been perfecting that sleeping draught she liked to use, and now, gauging the correct amount to dose two Ogres was child’s play. The thin stiletto pierced skin easily, and the drunken sots didn’t even wake. Oh, look! A maul, right there in that one’s hand! Clumsy bed-mate to be sure, but she couldn’t have wished for a better opportunity. Now for the real fun.

“Wake up.” She rolled her eyes. “You’d think by now the idiot would at least know to be a light sleeper.” She kicked him, “WAKE UP!” Bright yellow eyes stared up at her, and in the seconds it took to process what was happening, he scrambled backwards, away from her. “Well, at least you are not completely addled. Do you know who I am? No?” She was a bit disappointed. Ah, well, no matter. “You made big trouble for a friend of mine.” She paused, frowning. “And.. ok, we’ll say two friends.” She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

The Goblin spotted the large hammer in her hand, as it hung down at her side. “Now, I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement —eeep!” He yelped, jumping out of the way as she swung, knocking over a table and lamp.

“Blast it!” Bjorke cursed, stomping out the small, resulting fire. “No, can’t have that… we need evidence this time.”

Another swing, another yelp, another crash. She grinned at him. Granted, he couldn’t see it behind the mask, but it did make her eyes twinkle merrily. “You can’t escape, you know. Just like my friend. With your outrageous fees… how was he ever going to escape your clutches, hmmm?” That did it. The pieces fell into place for the Goblin. She rolled her eyes. How could someone so dull-witted run such a scheme? The Cartel was lucky to be rid of him.

Swing.Yelp.Crash.

She looked around, surveying her handiwork. Not bad, not bad at all. The look she gave the Goblin was just as merry, but this time, the swing connected, and the yelp was more of a gurgle.

“Thanks for the loan of your teddy-bear, Mr. Ogre.” She whispered sweetly to him, as she placed the maul back in his grip. The massive ham of a hand clutched it reflexively, and he rolled over. She blew him a kiss, and headed back for home.