Searching for the Orc in Isis Territory
In the dead of night in Isis Territory, when even the adults lulling children to sleep had long since drifted off, a lone figure appeared at the Isis family mansion, the seat of the territory's lords.
She wore a black robe pulled tight over her head and pitch-black attire, desperately trying to conceal her identity. But even that couldn't hide the silver hair gleaming under the bright moonlight or the sapphire-blue eyes that shone like jewels. It was Silveryia Isis, slipping out on a secret nocturnal errand.
"…"
Clop-clop. Given the robust security befitting a knightly domain—patrols sweeping the streets even at this hour—one might expect utmost caution. Yet Silveryia moved with the practiced ease of someone no stranger to midnight jaunts, darting through the alleys of the residential district.
Why would Silveryia Isis, famed heir to the renowned knightly Isis family and once hailed as a hero, sneak out under cover of darkness? Whatever the reason, it surely wasn't something she'd boast about. Perhaps she was prowling naked to sate some illicit urge, for example.
"…"
Skittering like a squirrel to avoid detection, ever vigilant of her surroundings, Silveryia at last reached her destination. She scanned for tails and slipped into a shadowy alley.
She'd arrived at the broad avenue dividing the residential and commercial districts. Pressing close to the wall of a building emblazoned with a goblin clutching gold coins, she checked once more for patrolling soldiers. Satisfied, she carefully pried open the sewer grate beneath and slipped inside.
The stench of mold and sewage filled the air, punctuated only by the scuttling of rats. Hardly a place for humans—let alone the lady of a domain. But Silveryia took it in stride, grabbing a nearby torch and plunging into the tunnels.
Hunched low, she navigated the conduits carrying household waste and rainwater.
Left, right, left, left…
Following the secret pattern to her goal, she moved—and suddenly, a dozen rats appeared before her. They spun in circles on the spot before scampering off ahead. Familiar guides for those in the know.
How long had she walked? The tunnel abruptly ended, opening into a clearing lit by torches on either wall.
"Never gets less amazing, no matter how many times I come."
A place unknown even to her, born and raised in this territory. Perhaps a shelter for refugees in wartime? That was the best guess for this enigmatic spot. And now, a sinister chuckle echoed from the shadows.
"That's why you oughta be grateful to me. Without yours truly, you'd never have known it existed before kicking the bucket."
Silveryia snorted at the voice of the sewer's master and strode toward it.
"Spare me the bullshit. Be glad I haven't lopped your head off."
The figure who emerged was all too familiar. Or was "figure" even the right word for it? Dressed in a dapper suit and top hat, puffing a pipe—even with slaves groveling at its feet—
"Gobgob…"
—calling a goblin a "person" was absurd.
Years ago at Blood Peak, this one had claimed to be the orc chieftain's right hand, aiding in her humiliating "training." Now, it ruled these sewers, running an underground black market as a goblin shaman. Cackling "keheke," it tossed moldy bread crumbs to the rats that had guided her.
"So, what's the purpose this time? Not that I don't already know."
"The info you sold me last time? Total bullshit! What orc? It was just a lava pit!"
Gojuju, the goblin entrepreneur-shaman, brushed crumbs from his hand and grumbled as Silveryia extended hers demandingly for a refund.
"Why you gotta be like this? It was the latest scoop I scraped together with great difficulty. Calling it lies is bad for business."
Not a coin, his snort implied. Silveryia flashed the sword at her hip.
"Forgot how I saved your sorry ass from humans about to gut you? I've kept you alive this long only 'cause you might help track that orc bastard…"
Her blade glinted in warning: Watch yourself.
Gojuju puffed his pipe indifferently, then snapped.
"How long you gonna milk that?! From the start, I said there was no way the boss was there! You went digging anyway and now you're bitching at me?!"
"Guh…!"
A few years back, he'd have quaked at the sight of her drawing steel, spilling secrets unbidden. Dealing with shady clients down here had toughened him up, apparently.
"And I've kept my mouth shut about you being the boss's sex slave—don't make this messy for both of us!"
"S-sex slave?! I told you that's not—"
"Really? Want me to sell your other secrets? Say the word! Buyers are lining up."
Gojuju's face twisted into the smarmiest goblin grin imaginable as he prodded her robe—especially the chest—with his gem-topped staff.
"D-don't touch me!"
"Looks like you're putting it to good use. Boss was right—humans are made to be reused!"
Silveryia squealed in outrage at the poking and prodding, then cleared her throat awkwardly at her own outburst. Seizing the moment, Gojuju whispered:
"While you're here, check out the new stock? Tailor-made for your kinks. Armor edition this time!"
"F-for real…?!"
"Of course! Looks just like real armor—who'd know? Plate or leather, your call!"
"Then plate… Wait, no, that's not—!"
Keheke, the goblin laughed at her, then sobered abruptly, face serious.
"Or… wanna buy info on the boss?"
"…This one's solid?"
"Guaranteed!"
"If it's vague like last time…"
Her face screamed distrust: Not falling for your crap again.
Gojuju gazed fondly at the rats peering up from his feet.
"Humans lie, but my babies don't! You doubting the world's fastest, surest intel network?!"
"N-no…"
Silveryia backed away from his sudden screech. At first, she'd hunted him down over a year, dragging him out of hiding to find the orc. She'd doubted his usefulness then, but the sly bastard had bewitched the sewer's teeming rats with his shamanism. Now he was the South's premier info broker.
Rats went everywhere, knew everything. No secret was safe. Despite being a goblin, clients flocked from across the continent. Rumors said he had side gigs now, too…
"Anyway—buying or not?!"
"B-buying! I am!"
Their dynamic had flipped; now she was groveling. Fumbling a gold coin from her pouch, she flicked it over. Gojuju pocketed it nimbly and leaned in close.
"…For real?"
"Dead serious."
"He's… settled down?"
"More like waiting for you."
"…"
Years ago at Blood Peak, their unfinished wager. The orc, having scoured the North for his kin, awaited her. Silveryia gripped the sword at her waist.
"You going?"
"Time to end it."
Long-buried grudge; time to settle it. Teeth gritted at memories of fruitless years hunting him.
"Uh, how much for that new product?"
"Time is money, friend!"
Secret shopping was just a bonus.