Scheming

I rode home yesterday, so I wrote this chapter after getting up this morning. It's a little late, and I'd like to apologize to everyone--

The courtyard behind the chapel was beautiful and peaceful. Towering oak trees of unknown age grew there, their bright red new leaves glimmering in the sunlight. The pale gravel path circling the trees was kept impeccably clean. Now and then, a few stubborn blades of grass sprouted from the cracks between the stones, lending the courtyard a little vitality.

Soft footsteps echoed steadily through the silent passageway.

"Abberton, let's go see our great merchant, Fizzle." Alvin's expression was unusually solemn. "May the Holy Light be praised. I hope they've prepared what I asked for. Also, bring Shaman Logul along. I've prepared a surprise for him."

Though Abberton had successfully become a Paladin through this opportunity, his own convictions and loyalty kept him from joining the Silver Hand. Instead, he chose to stay by Alvin's side.

The young man was perhaps the only person besides the two original Paladins from the Kingdom of Stormwind to become a Paladin without swearing an oath of loyalty to Lordaeron. However, since he was the prince's trusted personal guard, few people paid it much attention.

The boy's gaze swept over the courtyard, where the flowers and trees were flourishing, but his eyes held nothing but icy coldness. The Orcs were about to arrive on this peaceful continent, and the flames of war would sweep across the entire kingdom. Who knew how many years it would be before they saw another spring this warm?

He wouldn't place all his hopes in some so-called game plot. At this perilous moment, he had to do something himself. And as young as he was, the only resources he could rely on were the Gnolls led by Logul and his trade with the Steamwheedle Cartel. As far as he knew, Goblins were the biggest arms dealers in the world of Azeroth.

"Honorable Prince Alvin, your most loyal servant, Fizzle, pays his respects. May the Holy Light be with you."

In a study lit by alternating bands of light and shadow, a short, green-skinned Goblin spoke in heavily accented Lordaeronian and bowed respectfully to the prince seated behind the desk. His every move was as polished as a true human gentleman's.

But this wasn't the time to consider how impeccable the fellow's manners were. Alvin gestured toward the cushioned chair before him. "Our future Trade Prince, there's no need to be so formal. I assume you received my message. I called you here because I have a major deal for you."

A major deal! Alvin noticed that when he mentioned business, the Goblin merchant's previously hunched back straightened, and his enormous eyes began to gleam. The boy knew him well enough to recognize that this was the faith inspired by gold and wealth.

For money, these greedy and miserly creatures would dare to do anything. To most people, the morals of these little green folk were simply appalling. For money, they would sell their own relatives into slavery without hesitation; for money, they could start a war without a second thought, dragging countless innocents into it.

In the boy's view, without the food and ships the Goblins supplied to the Orc armies, the Orcish Horde could never have conquered the entire Kingdom of Stormwind so easily, let alone crossed the sea to launch a surprise attack on Menethil Harbor, north of Dun Morogh.

For this deal, Alvin had specifically asked Archbishop Faol for a large sum of support from Stratholme's treasury. Fortunately, the boy had always performed well, so the Archbishop had hesitated only briefly before agreeing to his request. With such a large sum of gold in hand, these Goblins with money on their minds would surely take the bait.

Once the war with the Orcs was over, I'd make sure these greedy bastards learned what it meant to bet on both sides! But for now, he still needed the help of these insatiable creatures.

His thoughts racing, he smiled calmly and said in a gentle voice, "We've worked together successfully once before, and I was very pleased with the Steamwheedle Cartel's goods. If the products you provide this time are just as effective, the Kingdom of Lordaeron will be happy to accept a perfect business consortium as a long-term trading partner."

"Of course, I can assure you, Your Highness. Our explosives are the finest! Only the Steamwheedle Cartel in all of Azeroth can supply the kind of heavy-duty explosives powerful enough to blow up a hill. Those Gnomes who spend all day tinkering with pointless inventions could never manage it—"

"I trust your engineering skills as much as I trust the Holy Light in my hands." To keep the Goblin merchant from rambling on, the boy offered him a little flattery, then quickly changed the subject.

"Actually, I'm worried that my soldiers don't know much about explosives. You know no one can match Goblins in engineering. If they can't use your products properly, they might botch the job..."

He shrugged, giving Fizzle a look that said, "You know what I mean."

"So I'd like you to provide me with a few qualified technicians. Naturally, I'll offer an additional payment that will satisfy you for these excellent specialists. However, since this shipment involves a little secret of mine, they won't be able to contact the outside world until the project is complete."

"Quite right. It would be an honor for them to serve such a generous client. I'm sure they're already eager to work for a prince as noble as you."

The Goblin merchant's eyes had turned into gold coins. He bowed to the prince and said with a broad smile.

"Very good." The boy nodded. "Abberton, take our great merchant downstairs to settle the bill."

After the royal guard led the beaming Goblin merchant away, Alvin turned his gaze toward the window and pondered for a while. Before long, the Gnoll Shaman pushed open the study door.

"Your Highness." Unlike the Goblin, Logul had staked everything he had on the boy. His every movement radiated genuine respect and obedience, not mere imitation.

"Logul, though I've never asked in detail why you ended up stranded in Alterac, I can guess some of the reasons. There are only a few possibilities when a high-ranking Shaman wanders the wilderness with part of his clan."

The boy's voice was full of persuasion and enticement.

In the Gnoll Shaman's eyes, the profile of the kind prince, cast in shadow by the sunlight, looked like a devil stirring people's hearts. "I'll ask you only one thing: do you want revenge?"