(37) -- Seeking In the Sands - Part II

Griffonclaw gave the goblin the fish-eye.

He had been passing coin around town, showing a sketch of Caelestra and her companion about town; he was not so much worried that people would recognize her as his certainty that the Ghost-Saber of hers would be memorable to people that were little more than a three-bite appetizer to the fearsome beast.

Even if he wasn't a threat, people tended to notice things like that.

Four different sources had pointed Griffonclaw to Spigot Inspector Luglunket, who was in charge of the bounties for the water pouches of the Wastewander bandits; he would often trade them for food and other supplies.

Four people had seen a ragged-looking Kaldorei ride into town, waterskins tied over the haunches of her mount in pairs, sometimes as many as a dozen.

Griffonclaw knew that to separate a desert bandit from their waterskin, you had to kill them first. He had himself done some of that trading when he was hunting their leader. He had approached Luglunket and shown him the sketch.

He had denied everything.

Griffonclaw had offered him gold.

Still, the goblin denied knowing Caelestra. He denied having any dealings with Caelestra. He denied knowing any Kaldorei. He denied knowing what a Ghost Saber was. He denied knowing what a Wastewater bandit was.

Clearly, the fellow as in denial.

"Well, if you don't know, you don't know..." said Griffonclaw, sounding dejected. "When a fellow can't remember aught for love nor money, there isn't a lot that one can do to..." Griffonclaw turned away and took one step. Two. Five. And turned back.

"One more thing... " he said, laconically, not alarming the goblin in the least. "You DO understand, of course, that I'm a Paladin of Ironforge, height notwithstanding?"

Luglunket sneered at the mention of Ironforge. "No, I didn't... they had to import talent? I guess the dwarf gene-pool is about tapped out... as if their Engineering School wasn't proof enough of tha..."

He decided to shut up. Between when he had begun his unwise response to when he made that decision, Griffonclaw had drawn blade and pressed the point precisely between his eyes.

Luglunket found it hard to focus on conversation with crossed eyes. He had decided to stand very still - especially his tongue.

"Be that as it may be..." drawled Griffonclaw, "... but its my home just the same... and do you know what happens when people lie to Paladins of Ironforge in the pursuit of their duty?"

Luglunket slowly shook his head from side to side, the point against his brow following the movement.

"We use any of our abilities to... carve away at deceit and falsehood" Griffonclaw answered. "And if we've been lied to, it may take hours... even days... for us to separate the lies from the truth." He flexed his arm, and the point of his sword easily parted skin. A thin rivulet of green blood began to well about the point, and travel down the broad slope of Luglunket's nose.

"Now... as regards the Night Elf? I know you're lying. You know you're lying. I know I will find out the truth. I know that enough money will pay off any damages the Water Company might want for anything I might do to you in the search for truth."

Luglunket gulped.

"And I know that I can heal almost anything I do to you while we... ahh... talk. Some of it might scar, though... but not to worry. Some ladies like scarring on their men... not many, but some."

"Now... one more time. This is the part where you tell me that you do know her, but were lying to me to protect her, to mislead me until you could tell her I was looking for you. That's a good reason, one that would excuse the lies; I can understand that reason. Its almost heroic, even - one goblin standing between a fearsome paladin to protect one of his freelance employees. I'm sure that they'll award you a bonus that your widow will truly appreciate..."

Griffonclaw learned a great many things that afternoon. He learned that the woman he thought might be Caelestra roamed the desert in the region of the bandit camps. He learned that she was dirty, smelled funny, and that her control was beginning to slip. He learned that she was constantly mumbling to herself in a strange tongue thought to be Darnassian. He learned that Max Luna, the Battlemaster, had secretly offered a reward for her capture so that he could use her in the arena. That the bandits had named her "The Ghost Who Walks" and thought her a haunt, already dead.

And that there was a pool for when she finally dropped dead of self-neglect, if she didn't end up in a gladiatorial arena or worse, a Horside brothel.

And he learned one final thing.

Goblins pee themselves when ytou press down on the sword-point.

* * *

Caelestra was on her way back to turn in the waterskins she had collected. As she approached the outpost she saw a Griffon swoop down to land and sensed trouble. More obvious, was the blur of shining armor and the hint of gray flecked hair that made her wary. Quickly, she redirected her saber around and entered Gadgetzan the opposite side.

It had been some time since she had tracked anyone or anything. She had no need of late. Her tasks were simple enough and the prey, stupid. She reached into her small satchel at her side and took out a small pinch of powder. As she snuffed up the pumiced bits of humaniod hair and bone her head filled with a cacophony of scents both new and old. She learned three significant things in an instant: Goblins reek, someone she loathed had just landed and she was in desperate need of a bath.

She was not sure where he was, but he was there. Why he was there was of no consequence. Often times in the past two moons she had come across familiar faces in the town and simply ignored them. She would do the same today, especially after the past taunts the two shared with each other. She clung to the walls going behind buildings until she found her usual business partner and traded the usual for the usual.

As silent as she entered she was out, back into the sand to kill more humans and continue the cycle. The scent of the paladin slowly faded and the pelting sand soon removed the stench invading her nostrils - the ritual could begin again. As she did in the morning, she did in the afternoon. Found an outcrop of rocks, scaled it, used her spyglass and marked her men who were close enough to look like 'him' to count.

Thoribas went out and gathered one up that looked 'close enough' and drew him back into her frost trap. The human snared easily enough, and Caelestra spent a good deal of time looking at his face, frozen in her trap. When he thawed, Thoribas attacked, she followed and the man was soon bleeding out at her feet. 'Take the skin and the silver... bind him and drive the arrow home.'

So it went on until there were none left to be hunted, bound and jabbed.

She mounted up and rode on to the next camp of 'close enoughs', found a spot to spy and looked through the long spyglass. Nothing but bodies were found. 'No matter. Move on.'

Next camp same scene. Nary a live 'close enough' to be found.

“Whoever is out here is cutting into our profits, Ghostpaw..” she mused in Darnassian. Her cat, grateful to hear her voice lunged his head under her hand and lifted her arm up, begging for any attention he could get. “Let us see who it is and if we can scare them off..shall we?” as she spoke she took a small piece of moldy bread from her satchel and gave it to her saber.

She scaled the next hill and pulled out her spyglass. There was the intruder, surrounded by an entire camp of bandits. She gasped and took in a lung full of hot Tanaris sand as she recognized Griffonclaw. Coughing with her chest burning, she shadowmelded to try to gain some composure.

She held the spyglass to her eye and watched the fight. The entire time, Griffonclaw swung his eyes were on her, or where she was. As the last bandit dropped to his death he carefully sheathed his sword and slung his massive shield around his shoulder. He carelessly picked over their bodies, stood up and walked directly towards her.

Caelstra held her breath. 'Why is he here and why is he coming for me?' She was dumbfounded and could not even pull the spyglass from her eye until he was no more than 10 feet from her.

"Kaldorei" his voice was empathetic.

"Slaver" hers was not.

“You know, I've heard elves hide better when they don't have a saber next to them.” his voice now tinged with his usual dry sarcasm. He pulled out a large package, opened it, and tossed the freshly made Buzzard Bites to the sand in front of the cat, who quickly snatched it up and sat down to sup.

She rolled her eyes and exhaled, returning to full view. “What are you doing here, Griffonclaw. You have no business here with these men. You kill them in one shot, and I have a living to earn...” she started but he cut her off.

“I have been sent to collect you and return you to Darnassas...your Goddess wants her lost child back.” his tone was geniune enough.

“Right. So you hear Gods now? I always thought you were cra..” Caelestra taunted, but was quickly interrupted, again.

“You think I am a liar? I may be a lot of things, but I am not a liar.” he gruffed out.

Calestra picked her teeth as he spoke, doing her best to be insolent but in her current state of disrepair she looked foolish - and they both knew it.

“You think you are somehow wiser and more subtle than Her, to second-guess Her will? Or is it you are just too stubborn to accept help when you need it?” He took out a string of waterskins and tossed them at her feet. "Not even I am stupid enough to turn down Elune to her face, although she is far from being my patron."

“The goblin said you were looking skinny.. he didn't lie. Of course, I had to hurt him to get that much; he's a greedy enough bastard that he didn't want to lose one of his best producers. Are you hungry?” he looked through her and walked past, heading back to Gadgetzan.

“...no..” the shell was cracking as was her voice.

“You know, you are in quite a bit of danger here, Caelestra - drowning in despair and self-destruction around goblins is a Fool's Game; they're always far too willing to profit on it..." commented the paladin casually. "The pit master wants you to fight for him until you spray your lifeblood over the sands of his area, and others were talking of taking you in the night to work in a brothel in Oggrimar...”

"I may have to grant the pit master a visit..." said the Kaldorei.

"You'll have to postpone that - he's recovering from a severe beating someone delivered, after killing his guards" commented Griffonclaw. "Elune wouldn't countenance her Children forced into gladiatorial games, I'm sure. "


Griffonclaw turned back to face her and eyed her up and down. "Are you coming? Its a long flight, after all. " With that, he turned around and headed off for town.

She followed.