Shupashupa
The lone orc arrived in Scholazar and took a high altitude flight around the Venture Company’s operation. Not much to see but it showed few ways to get in and observe without being seen. Gigantic trees all far too tall, the ground too open to provide a vantage point to prolonged observation; a place to watch and wait for her target. Grunting in frustration she wheeled about on her mount, falling into the shadow of the Suntouched Pillar rising hundreds of feet into the air, well above the treetops.
On the far side of the Pillar the assassin pushed her drake higher, dropping off her mount as it crested the Pillar. She took a moment to breathe in the crisp air and take in the view of the Basin stretched out below, enjoying the illusion of a moment of peace. Moving carefully to avoid dislodging any larger rocks or boulders, she inched to the edge, spotting a thin outcropping. Gauging the distance she dropped lightly to the thin ledge sixty feet below. Two more drops and she was just a hundred or so feet from the ground on a wider ledge, some grass and scrub giving her a bit of cushioning and cover as she settled in to watch the Venture Company workers below her.
Below her the afternoon wound out. Goblins and Trolls dug into the earth looking for crystals and minerals while ogres moved about hauling carts or patrolling methodically, clubs over their shoulders or dragging in the dirt behind them. As darkness fell, the work crew headed out; lanterns were lit to keep the worksite visible for the remaining guards.
Dropping to the ground, the orc moved through the shadows to a nearby shredder. A flash of steel and the mechanical began to sag; vital hydraulic fluids pumping out into a pool on the ground. Circling around the site, she approached the second shredder. Using a slim bladed throwing dagger to cut into the boot around each of the hip and shoulder joints; she began pressing in a mixture of salt to break down the packing grease and sand to foul the joint. It would run in the morning, but not for long.
One last bit of sabotage, she moved past the large crane to the demolitions cart; striking a small firepot into life and setting it within on of the barrels. Then melding back into the shadows, she sprinted for the edge of the camp. She needed to get back to her vantage point before the demolitions caught fire.
From her high perch, the assassin watched her work unfold. She could just make out the faint orange flicker of the fire pot; saw how it caught the attention of an ogre on guard. The great brute had just begun to look into the barrel with a surprised ‘Hrah?’ when the demolitions went off. The night was broken by the thunderous roar, night turned into day by the explosion. The guard was thrown back 30 feet, his body peppered with shrapnel; broken and unmoving. The other watchmen came unable to get close enough to put out the blaze. As they watched, the large crane began to smolder and catch fire as well.
The assassin smiled to herself. Sometime in the next day or so Baron Sprazzle was due. He was not going to be happy with the condition of his operation; but a least he would not be unhappy for too long.
Hours passed and with morning came a dull gray light, overcast and promising rain. Workers returned to find the chaos from the night before. The foreman tried to organize cleanup, rubbing his face nervously as he thought about the cost to the operation and how furious Baron Sprazzle would be.
One Goblin ran for the first shredder, trying to get into the cockpit, only to have to leap away as it toppled forward, no longer able to support itself. The second shredder coughed into life, pouring out black smoke as it began moving toward the charred framework of the crane. The operator began cutting the debris into movable pieces, but it was apparent after a short time that he too was having trouble, his shredder’s movements becoming stiffer and more erratic as the joints locked up.
Even from her high perch, the orc could hear the foreman’s creeching voice, as he berated the shredder pilots, “What are youse lugnuts doing?! Repairs for dose tings is comin’ outta yer pay!”
“And YOU!” his finger stabbed as a spectacled Goblin, “How many times do I gotta tell ya NOT to store the det’naters wit’ the charges?! The Baron is due here t’day, and he’s gonna take one look at dis place and try to take it outta MY hide! But ya know what? I guarantee it won’t be a pound of my flesh. No…its gonna be a bit o’ every one of you mooks.” His shouting was emphasized with a distant roll of thunder, the clouds above giving up their rain; fat drops churning the dust into mud... “Ahhh, GREAT! All a youse, get crackin’ and get dis mess cleaned up before Sprazzle gets here.”
“Too late, Coppernut,” the amplified voice boomed from the approaching shredder. “Is dis what I pay you for, Coppernut?” The shredder’s buzzsaw armatures swinging wide in a dangerously expansive gesture. “You wreck my equipment, delay my shipment and damage my goods? If’n I couldn’t see the big nose on yer face, I’da thought you were some Gnome here tryin’ ta wreck business. I should hand you over to Boss Xong!”
Baron Sprazzle advanced his shredder closer to the wrecked crane. His two ogre bodyguards close behind, their spiked iron clubs at the ready. The assassin watched, gauging distances…time to move. Wrapping the shadows around herself she stepped off her ledge. The only sign of her passage was an odd interruption if the falling rain. She hit the platform below, sprinting for the edge, leaping across the intervening space between herself and her target…too far. She pulled the shadows tighter ‘stepping’ the final distance to appear on the back of an ogre. She drove her long daggers, held in reverse, deep into each side of the ogre’s muscled neck; severing arteries and puncturing his windpipe. But he was too big; her blades could not reach his heart deep in his barreled chest. She pulled her left, drawing the razor keen edge of the right across the ogre’s throat as she spun outward; pushing off as the massive body began to fall.
She danced across the back of Sprazzle’s shredder, dropping a small grenade into the shoulder mechanism before rolling off into the mud behind the second bodyguard. As she lashed at the ogre’s ankles, there was a soft whump, gray ooze erupting from the shredder’s shoulder, already hardening as it hit the air. Mobility was her asset, keep moving and slow your opponents. The iron club splashed into the mud, inches from her head. The blow thrown off as the ogre lost his footing.
Gaining her feet the orc drove her dagger deep into the bodyguard’s thigh, dragging the blade up through the long muscle, feeling the tip scrape the bone. The ogre bellowed in pain and rage, dealing her a crushing backhand and knocking her backwards into the mud; her dagger still stuck in his leg.
Sprazzle brought his shredder around, “You wanna play, little girl? You think you’re the first to try to take me out?!” The assassin feinted right before vanishing and dodging left; just as Sprazzle’s shredder unleashed a barrage of rockets, kicking up mud but missing their target.
Stepping through the shadows again, the orc stuck a second bonding grenade into the shredder’s hip before turning to the ogre and wrenching her dagger free. The ogre dropped to his knees; clutching his leg, blood pouring from his ruined femoral artery.
“Ah! Gotcha now! This baby is state of the art! Buzzsaw, rocket launcher, even a shrapnel cannon!” Sprazzle brought the other arm around, pointing at the assassin. The orc dropped a smoke bomb, obscuring his view momentarily before it was swept away by the rain. Enough to avoid the brunt of the cannon shot, shards of metal cutting into her leg, shoulder and face; but nothing vital. The ogre was not as lucky.
Pulling on deep reserves and training, the orc gathered herself for a last push. Sprinting to close the gap between them, she ‘stepped’ a final time materializing on the shoulders of the shredder behind the Baron as she looped her garrote over his head, “I may not be the first to try to take you out…all I have to be is the last.” Two hundred and thirty pounds of orc dropped off the back of the shredder, suspended by only a thin cord wrapped about the Goblin’s neck. The assassin listened to his gurgle, dropping to the ground and rolling out of the way as the shredder toppled backwards, no longer under control.
Reaching into the cockpit, she pulled the Baron’s hand off the controls, severing his pinky as per her orders.
Looking up she saw the work crew pressing in. Daggers flew from her fingertips finding arms, hands, legs, “The Venture Company is not going to be happy with any of you,” her voice a low growl. “I suggest you leave and find a different employer while you have the chance.” Standing up, the orc whistled for her drake. Climbing onto its back, she patted its neck, “Time to go home.”
