Chapter 15

Booty Bay.

Cerberus hadn't been there for years.

He didn't like it: the inevitable close proximity with the races of the Alliance, especially when it was forbidden to kill them. At his heart, in his mind, he was a sniper: always on the outside looking in. Not to say he was cowardly, or couldn't survive in a close quarters brawl. He was simply best at discretion, not unlike Aloos.

Aloos, the reason he was here. And that little troll girl who Cerberus didn't even know the name of. This was about revenge.

He was sure to drop his mount in the stables and check his weapons with the guards, he wouldn't want any trouble with the local authorities. No, he was looking for an encounter with a different force of the universe.

So he asked around the city, spoke with the merchants and guards to see what he could find. Goblins were amazing creatures, despite standing approximately three feet tall with scrawny little bodies virtually void of muscle mass. About the only thing they had in common with an orc was their green skin tones.

But goblins were remarkably intelligent creatures, on par with the Alliance's gnome vermin. They built the most amazing of mechanics. Further, they were fluent in most all langue. Of course they knew the staple: orcish and common, but they also knew the more obscure of tongue, even the sign langue developed by the Horde.

What happened here, about five days ago, Cerberus signed.

Dib Goldtooth gave a loud laugh. "Ah, my memories a little fuzzy," he said in a piercingly high voice.

The tongueless orc sighed as he dropped a gold coin on the table.

"Oh yeah," the goblin snickered. "Its all coming back to me now. This night elf wanted no one to be guarding the embassy. Paid a great deal of gold to keep the guards busy."

I know that, who was he?

"Oh, you know, all these elves look alike."

Cerberus placed two more golden coins onto the table.

"Right, now I remember," Dib snickered. "His name was Pantherfoot. Claudane Pantherfoot."

Cerberus's eyes widened. Pantherfoot?

"Yeah, Claudane Pantherfoot, that was his name. In fact, he told me to tell you his name, it was weird."

The orc placed a final coin on the table before he turned and left. When the door closed behind him, Dib took out a communicator from his desk draw. "Elfsbane just left," the goblin said into the machine. Then he hung up, and went about his business.

---

Three trolls, Cerberus noted. Not of the Darkspear Tribe, not like Aloos. Instead they were of the forest: green skinned. He had expected elves, but no matter. The plan would work, given time, so Cerberus feigned ignorance. He allowed the trolls to believe they moved with out his notice, and he casually wandered into one of Booty Bay's dark, secluded allies.

There, the trolls made their move. One with a Mohawk leapt upon his back. Cerberus easily shifted his weight and threw the troll over his shoulder and onto the ground. The second forest troll, this one's face marked with war paint, dashed at the orc, who easily side stepped and then threw a punch into his opponent's head. The troll stumbled back, dazed.

Cerberus was about to crush Mohawk's skull beneath a boot, but caught himself, he couldn't kill one just yet. So instead he brought his foot down slowly, giving the troll time to roll to his feet.

The one with a painted face came at Cerberus with a knife. The orc allowed the blade to knick his chest slightly, then roared as if the pain were unimaginable. He feigned disorientation, attempted to run. But the third grabbed his legs and he tumbled to the ground.

Mohawk and Face-paint piled on top of Cerberus, and he simply did nothing to fight back. He feigned defeat, feigned death, and lay on the ground as the third one prepped a syringe.

As the needle pushed into the orc's neck and his eyes grew heavy, he had to force himself not to smile.

All part of the plan.