Chapter 14

"We have a runner coming in fast," Christopher Bailey said, his glowing eyes peering through a pair of binoculars.

Michael Fried lifted his crossbow.

"North by northwest three clicks. Sector three," Bailey continued. "One rider on an armored steed."

"Human," Fried asked. He was still finding the target.

"Looks like a troll. Could be Commander Aloos."

"Has he given the signal?" The sniper found the target, the crosshairs over his scope over the rider's skull.

"No, he is coming in fast. He maybe be being chased."

"Or this may be a trick. Humans are not above using glamour to infiltrate our ranks. Protocol requires a warning shot." Fried took careful aim, first moving the crosshairs over the rider and horse, then to where the horse would move next. His bony finger pulled the trigger and he let the arrow soar.

Through his scope, he watched the horse rear and throw the rider off its back: he landed several feet forward and the steed fleed. Keeping his bow trained on the rider, Fried allowed him to rise.

"WHAT DA FUCK ARE YE MOTHER FUCKERS FUCKING DOIN? I'M FUCKIN WOUNDED AND YOU MOTHER FUCKERS HAVE DA FUCKIN NERVE TA FUCKIN FIRE AT ME. WHAT DA FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU! I'M GOANNA COME OVER DERE AND FUCKIN KICK YOUR UNDEAD ASSES, EVERY LAST MOTHER FUCKIN ONE OF YE."

"That's Commander Aloos," Fried nodded.

---

Aloos lay on his back as Elizabeth and Lunn loomed over him. From his vantage, he had an excellent look at both gorgeous creatures' cleavage: the pale and purple breast respectively.

"Your eye has been completely cut out," the undead noted. "The wound was then seared, most likely by heated metal. This doesn't look like the work of any type of magic." She sighed. "Aloos, there's nothing that can be done: no spell, no surgery. Your eye is lost forever."

The troll sat up and patted her shoulder. "No problem. I gots one good one still. I can still see an I can get dat cocksucker dat done dis."

After Lunn had examined his wound as well, she handed him a leather eye patch. "You may have some difficulties in depth perception and compensation," she explained. "I wouldn't advise taking any mission for a while."

Aloos examined his appearance in a mirror, the patch now covering his wounded eye. "I think I look damn sexy. I shoulda started wearing dis a long time ago."

There was a knock on the door and Cerberus entered.

"Aye mon, check it out. I figure I be getting a purple heart pretty soon."

Cerberus gave a slight chuckle. He took a seat at the side of the bed. What happened? he signed.

"Ah, dis pasty faced, purple faced, pretty boy, tree huggin, panther humping, long eared, lanky night elf fuck attacked me. Uh, no offence Lunn."

The druid rolled her glowing eyes.

"Ah, anyway, dis one-eyed prick-"

"One eyed?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yeah, he had one eye. So dis one eyed elf comes up to me an asks me name. So I tell him and next thing I know some bastard shoots me. Tranquilizer dart I think. I was fuckin out."

"Then what," Lunn asked.

Aloos paused as if in deep, deep thought. "Its weird mons. Next thing I know, I'm in da middle of da forest wit a horse an me eye hurts like hell. Well, ye know, where mi eye used ta be. I wasn't even awake when he cut it out. Guys a prick in torture."

What exactly did he say? Cerberus asked. Before you were shot?

"He asked, he asked if I could give a message Cerb. Dat was all. He didn't give me any message ta give."

Lunn's pointed ears perked and she stole a glance at the orc. He was visibly distraught by the trolls word, how interesting.
That night, when he mounted his wolf and rode out of Brill, Lunn followed closely behind as a panther: invisible in the forest's darkness and tall grass.