Close Topic Options

[Hyacynthe]

General Throkk was a High Warlord of the Kor'kron Elite. "Sobralia," he said, "I'm still waiting for your amended report."

"I'll have a courier deliver it in the morning," she said. She couldn't stomach handing it to him directly. She had rather brashly not added, "General," but at that moment she felt it was important to give a subtle reminder that she was not an enlistee.

"That'll do," he said with a scowl. "In the meantime, I have something else for you. You are the only person I trust to take care of this, but I doubt you'll thank me." Sobralia couldn't read the expression he was giving her; he was veering back and forth between amused and disgusted. "Come, walk with me."

She followed him out of Grommash Hold, into the Drag of Orgrimmar. As they went, he talked. "Sobralia, the new Horde is not a ragtag collection of barbarians and berserkers. We're not just about swinging axes and eating the hearts of our vanquished foes. The New Horde is a world-wide empire that comprises five nations. And we face a continually changing and growing adversary in the Alliance. We have to meet them eye-to-eye. That means we cannot allow any gaps to develop. Wherever they go, we have to go. Whatever they do, we have to match. Whatever they build, we have to build something even bigger. Do you understand?"

She wasn't sure that she did, but she said, "Yes, General."

"And, er, not all of this is blood and thunder. Some of it may even seem mundane, pedestrian, even dull. But nonetheless it is as essential as crafting weapons and building fortresses. Logistics, Sobralia; the Alliance has a distinct advantage in the art and science of logistics."

"Lu... lu-gist-ix?"

"Logistics! Chains of supply, communication, correspondence--"

"Sounds like you mean paperwork."

The General frowned. "There is paperwork involved, yes--"

Sobralia stopped. "No."

"No?"

"I can't help you."

"Look, Sobralia, no orc likes to do paperwork. That's the problem. We have a paperwork gap against the Alliance! Orcs just can't do it; Tauren are far too slow with it; Trolls are too sloppy; and the Forsaken fill their forms with cryptic arcane minutiae. The Sindorei are, as it turns out, quite good at doing paperwork, with one small flaw -- they use it to lie and obfuscate. But as it turns out, I don't need you to do any paperwork."

Sobralia sighed. "That's a relief."

"All the paperwork will be handled by your partner."

Sobralia heard alarms, klaxons, distant wailing, gnashing of teeth. "...Partner?"

"Yes. Ah, here we are. Stephanie, can you come out here?"

Just then, they heard the most grating, screechy voice imaginable. Sobralia visibly twitched, because it felt like little beavers were chewing on her nerve endings. "Already here, sir!"

"Address me as 'General.' How long have you been there?"

"Been following for several minutes, si--General."

"Stephanie, this is your new partner, Sobralia."

The goblin who owned the horrible, grating, screechy voice spit in her palm and held her hand out for Sobralia. "Put 'er there, pal!"

"Sobralia, this is your partner, Stephanie Crun-- Cren--"

"Cronkriggle. Stephanie Cronkriggle, CPA, MBA, MBD."

Sobralia's eyes narrowed. She still hadn't shaken Stephanie's hand, which was slowly lowered. "MBD?"

"Master of Business Defenestration!"

Sobralia raised an eyebrow. "You... throw... businesses out the window?"

"Well, YEAH! In a figurative sense, mainly, although the modern practice of business defenestration traces all the way back to legendary defenestrator Lugwrench Weezleplortz, who successfully averted an audit by Trade Prince Steamwheedle by throwing his ledger out the window into the street."

"Okay, how did that avert an audit?"

"Well, THIS was back in the days before indoor plumbing, and the streets of Kezan were overflowing with sh-- well, let's just say it wasn't milk and honey, okay? No self-respecting goblin is going to look at a ledger that's been marinating in a puddle of street goo, nosiree!"

"Can't say I blame them." She was curious, despite knowing that asking a question meant having her nerve endings chewed on by beavers some more. "So, what does a business defenestrator do today?"

"OHHHHH, the USUAL, shredding, erasing Titan data disks, encryption, blowing things up, burying safes, sometimes even actual defenestration, hahaha!" Stephanie's laugh went like this: "Hehehe, *snort* *gasp*, hehehe, *snort* *gasp*, hehehe, *snort* *gasp*."

Partner.

"So, General. What is it that we're doing, exactly? And what do you need me for, if Stephanie here is handling all the actual paperwork?"

"Your job is to keep Stephanie alive." Oh, swell, she thought. "Stephanie's been hired to conduct an audit of the Horde's military logistical apparatus."

"It's a swirling NIGHTMARE!" she added, helpfully. "It's been thoroughly mucked up from top to bottom. But we're gonna fix it all, form by form, spreadsheet by spreadsheet."

"The very survival of the Horde depends on this," added the General. "If we can't get it together, the Alliance will pick us apart bit by bit, choking off the lines of supply until all our troops are starving, cold, defenseless and unarmed."

"So, I'll be protecting Stephanie against Alliance agents, then?" Perhaps this wasn't going to be so horrible after all.

"Well, they might try something, but no, actually you'll be protecting her from the denizens of the Horde." Sobralia raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. "That's why this project has come under the aegis of Operation Warhawk. You've met Overlord Agmar, I presume? Conquerer Krenna? Garrosh Hellscream? How well do you think they will react when Stephanie shows up demanding to see the books?"

Point taken, thought Sobralia. She turned to Stephanie, and, supressing a sigh, asked, "So where do we start?"

"I thought we'd start someplace simple like Brackenwall Village. There's something weird going on there that I'd like to check out."

In the morning, they headed out.

[Taram42]

(( Oh -my-, I was laughing so hard as I read this... ))

[Velispyr]

(( Bahaa! My face hurts now xD ))

[Hyacynthe]

((glad everyone's enjoying it!))

Brackenwall Village. The heat; the humidity; the stale breezeless air; the stench of mold growing on pools of standing water; the even more oppressive stench of unbathed ogres.

"Ah, CRIKEY! I can HEAR my sinuses filling up. This place sure doesn't agree with me!"

After climbing off their wyverns, Stephanie complained like this for a while, at or near the top of her lungs. Sobralia was silent, enjoying the warmth but finding the humidity next to unbearable.

Presently they were approached by a blood elf who introduced himself as Borogrove Dreamfire. "Apologies, I couldn't help but overhear. Might I recommend a mint tincture from Balai over there? Just like you, this place causes me no end of trouble with my allergies, so you have my sympathies. Ah! Would you happen to be Stephanie Crinkwrinkle?"

"Cronkriggle. Stephanie Cronkriggle, CPA, MBA, MBD, at your service!"

"Then you must be, ah, Sobralia."

Sobralia nodded.

"I'll bet you've never heard someone say they're glad to see an auditor. So let me be the first: by the Sun, am I glad to see you!"

"Well, like I've ALWAYS tried to tell people, an auditor is really your best friend, here to keep ya honest and make sure ya stick to the straight and narrow. Unless of course you're a criminal, hehehe *snort*. How long have you been posted out here?"

"Four glorious months."

"And you're the only one who touches the books?"

Borogrove looked around. "I'm the only one here who even bothers to read. Well, except for Draz'Zilb, but he's a very private ogre. I can say with certainty that he hasn't been in my office."

"And what's kept you from fencing the mysterious surplus stuff you mentioned in your memo?"

Borogrove looked around, suddenly nervous. He lowered his voice. "Ah, must we discuss this so publicly?"

"Ahhh, I get it! Right-e-o. If there's anyone who can be DISCREET and keep a SECRET, it's me!"

"Very good, very good. Can I show you to my office? It's not very impressive, but then, nothing around here is."

When they got to the office, Sobralia could see right away why Borogrove could be assured neither Draz'Zilb nor any other ogre had ever been in there: it was too small. It was a shack with just enough room for a desk and a single filing cabinet. Nevertheless, it was as cluttered with papers, notes, and books as possible.

"Mind if I have a peek?"

"Be my guest."

Stephanie walked into the office as if she owned the place, and faster than either Borogrove or Sobralia could follow, reorganized the piles and books and flipped through the various ledgers. She was quiet (oh heavenly bliss!) save the occasional, "Hmm." She pulled out a large red pen and started making notes.

Finally she looked up at Borogrove. "I have several red flags by one name. What can you tell me about... lessee... 'Lian Kar'alash DBA Ascendant Company?'"

Upon hearing the name, Sobralia drew her blades.

[Marieleveau]

((*has total heart attack*))

[Thaag]

((my face hurts, and then I have a stroke.))

[Hyacynthe]

As Sobralia told her story, the other two nodded, and as she finished, Borogrove said, "I can certainly understand your alarm. But on my word, the delivery persons have been nothing but polite and friendly. They don't sound anything like these rapscallions you tangled with."

"I know!" said Stephanie. "I'll talk ta one of my buddies in the Bilgewater Cartel. He knows everything there is to know about shady business." She rummaged through her bag and produced a rusty squawkbox. She turned it on, and when she pressed the button to speak there was a horrible crackling beep that made Sobralia and Borogrove wince.

"Breaker 1-9, this is the Cronkmeister to Little Diddle, come back?" Sobralia and Borogrove looked at each other, but neither of them were sure they wanted to know.

The squawkbox gave another horrible squelchy crackle and they heard, just barely, a tinny voice. "Hey, baby, Little Diddle here." He said something else but it was lost in a haze of static.

"Ahaha, you naughty thing, you." Another response was squelched out by the static, but Stephanie blushed bright red. "Heh, I think I'll just go get the cone of silence. Yes, the cone of silence. Heh heh." Rummaging through her bag again, she pulled out a large aluminum cone, which fit on her head like a dunce cap. A wire came out of the very top, which she plugged into the squawkbox, preventing the other two from hearing anything else Little Diddle had to say. This was just fine, as the other two couldn't have been less tempted to eavesdrop on this particular conversation.

After some back and forth of what Sobralia hoped was merely flirtatious banter, Stephanie finally got around to asking about Lian and the Ascendant Company. "Ah, you don't say. ... Uh huh. Really! Huh. ... Uh huh. ... You don't say. ... You don't say!!"

As Stephanie removed the cone of silence, Sobralia asked, "So what did he know?"

"He didn't say." She rummaged around in her bag again, this time pulling out the most mysterious goblin-engineered contraption she'd ever seen. "But he seemed kinda nervous about it. He's going to send me something over the intarwebs."

Sobralia raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Hmm, so how should I describe the intarwebs to a primitive? See, the intarwebs are like a series of tubes--"

"Say," said Borogrove, "Is that a miniature teleportation pad you've got there?"

"YES!" shouted Stephanie, as she unfolded a wire-framed parabolic dish with spider-web-like lacing. "It's all very technical, but using the intarwebs you can send a copy of any small thing like a book to someone anywhere on Azeroth!"

"How exciting!" Borogrove said.

"It'll never catch on," muttered Sobralia. "That's what mail's for, isn't it?"

Stephanie was fiddling with knobs and dials now, and they heard a curious whistling sound from the intarwebs box. "Hold on, something's coming through." It took a few more minutes of tuning and fiddling before the document finally materialized on the teleport pad.

As she read through the document, Stephanie's expression became glum. Very, very glum. Finally, she looked up at Sobralia and Borogrove and smiled. "Well, this has all been very interesting, but I think we'll be moving along now. Never mind those mysterious extra boxes of stuff, it will all be sorted out I'm sure. Sobralia, I've already chosen our next stop. It's far, far away from here--"

"What is going on," said Sobralia. She spoke slowly, deeply, with a hint of menace.

Stephanie gulped audibly, and then looked at the document again. "Well, it turns out, Ascendant Company is a wholly-owned subsidiary of Amalgamated Enterprises Diversified, LLC, based in Mudsprocket. Their attorney is-- are you SURE you wouldn't rather see the next stop?" Sobralia crossed her arms, and said nothing. Stephanie gulped again. "Their attorney is Llewellyn Floyd of Weezix, Fleezix, Gormsquaggle, and Floyd, LLP."

Something about this name triggered a deep, primal fear in Sobralia. She heard the name echoing in her head. Llewellyn Floyd, Llewellyn Floyd.

"I, uh, I think I've heard of him," said Borogrove. "He's the attorney who sued Death, or something."

"And won. Do you know what that means? Not only did he find a judge who would actually let him file the case, he found a constable who could actually subpoena Death herself and compel her to show up in court, and then he argued his case and WON. Llewellyn Floyd is over 400 years old and can't die because Death is under a restraining order not to touch him. Llewellyn Floyd is such a high-powered attorney, the leaders in Dalaran had to invent a new school of magic just to describe what he can do. They call him a Legimancer."

Show me a monster and however big and gruesome it is I will not flinch from fear, Sobralia thought to herself. But this... THIS... She stopped her hands from shaking. I will show no fear in the face of my enemies.

"No. We stay."

[heam]

((hehehe tubes))

[Merchea]

((Bahahhaaaa! Intarwebs!))

[Stenriht]

((Absolutely a fantastic read! More!!! ))