over her back as she looks at the orc again. "We're off Tak'Il. Good luck with the goblins!"

Assuming Il'Tak does not want to ask them something, the two take their leave northeast. If he wants to go find the goblins, he'll need to go east. But there's certainly time to prepare if he wants to, by one means or another, gather supplies for the trip.

That was... an interesting encounter.

As the group leaves, a small part of Il'tak is sad to see Selene leaving. It has been nearly a week since the orc has ha someone to talk to. It seems that she is heading off with the safety of comrades... and magic... to see some sage...

Il'tak slowly walks in the opposite direction, thinking things over.

On the one hand, the sage might be too distant to know anything... and the thought of travelling with humans, much less a dwarf, made him a little bit ill. Further, it is foolish to trust someone who claims to speak orcish without meeting orcs. It isn't as though the scattered tribes are known for their books, after all...

...on the other hand, a library would be worthless without someone who can read... and hunting down those goblins would find Il'tak alone and outnumbered.

Eying a nearby market stall, Il'tak gives a small smile. Why not act like Four-fingered Flaugh and leave this matter to chance...

While a gamble perhaps is not the best way to prepare for an adventure, none should deny the ability Il'Tak has to deftly avoid turning anyone, including himself, into the next four-fingered man. The constant chaos of the marketplace makes it startlingly easy to blend in and the stallkeepers try their hardest not to maintain eye contact with you. An independent meat keeper hangs large batches of meat all around his stall, turning in all directions trying to attract customers. It's laughably trivial for Il'Tak to take one of his throwing knives and swiftly cut the rope hanging one of the biggest batches of boar meat for himself. If anything is notably stolen, it's the orc's attention as the meat in his hand gives off a wonderfully fresh smell. No salt, no seasoning, hell, even no dirt. He'll be able to dig in on this for weeks!

It's when he looks up that fortune, as some ignorant humans say, smiles on him... in a way. A stall of perfumes and stinky smells happen to lie in the corner; the stallkeeper idly counting his money away from several of his... wares, if they may even be called that. The smell of meat and dust clogged up the scent; up close, Il'Tak gets a whiff of what is vomiting odors. Do humans actually use this on themselves? Orcs joke how elves of royalty use stinky fumes in gatherings but it's hard to imagine such a jest being true.

But among the products, one quickly catches the orc's eye. A large batch of machfillis, a mix of lavender, animal blood, and many, tiny bits of mouth-swelling herbs and old fruits line up at the stall's side; each is placed in a small glass jar that can be held nicely with one hand. The ingredients are strikingly similar to a classic bait the orcs of Aijur use to send nearby wild animals into a slobbering mania and gather around as if expecting food, though the lavender must be an addition to the machfillis. Perhaps humans sprinkle this on actual food so their pets may eat it.. The paper did mention that the goblins used animals to raid the grand library. Some machfillis will make a good distraction. After all, Il'Tak just needs the stolen books. He can leave the killing to actual adventurers.

So a few seconds at the otherwise abhorrent stall and the orc walks away from the marketplace with a huge chunk of fresh boar meat and some bait. He's certainly well and ready to handle some goblin thieves now.

Leaving Alugahn is like freeing oneself from a human prison. The fresher air of the Northern Wilds seep into the orc's mouth and nose as Il'Tak ventures out east. Originally, the path is nothing but rolling hills and plains. Light grass sweep and bend under his bare green feet under the cloudy sky as he walks between the barren region north and the coastline south. Yet it is not a wilderness for nothing; great mountains scatter along the plains and hills, tempting Il'Tak to either climb over or around. The forests of Aijur are known for their own vertical cliffs and hills but they are lacking compared to some of the mountains on the path east.

Two days pass and the mountains eventually give way to a strikingly dead forest; trees lie in heavy numbers but are burnt and dry. Barely any leaves scatter along the yellow grass that feel slightly prickly compared to the softness from before. There's this irritating smell of charcoal that's laced onto the trees. It's as if the place had been in an inferno long ago with little sign of repair.

A short walk into the forest and the orc finally finds his prey. A dim, mostly-repaired wooden cottage lies in a small clearing surrounded by the many dead trees. The door itself is small, as if designed for a halfling, with windows placed next and above it. Three grey animals, wolves, guard the front with... mostly lackluster interest. The first appears mostly sleeping, the second actually standing watch properly. And the third is agitated with a thin green figure whose thick iron sword is aimed to keep the animal away. This goblin apparently isn't the most comfortable with its pets.

A good deal of loud voices come from inside the hut, as if a bunch of people are in argument with each other. Il'Tak can approach to listen in on the conversation, if he's willing to take the risk.

Walking through the burnt forest, Il'tak is fairly impressed. While goblins have always been known for arson., lighting something as vast as a forest... and surviving the blaze, no less... must have been a masterstroke of goblin ingenuity... or luck.

Either way, it would certainly help explain why gobllins would seek books and book materials. Kindling.

Il'tak tilts his head as he examines the cottage and its apparent guardians. The thought of goblins knowingly banding together to FIX anything, even shelter, felt a bit out of place. The tribes around his home were also terrified of anything remotely canine...

'Relax, Il'tak. The world is bigger than the fields you grew up in. Nothing odd is going on. It's just a bunch of goblins.'

Backing a respectable distance from the cottage, Il'tak draws his blade and pours his Machfillis on the base of a tree before hiding behind it...

Nature and reality fall neatly back into place as Il'Tak places down the mixture on the base of the tree. Like he imagined, the smell is vile; lavender did little more than irritate the orc's nose. Peeking around, the three wolves over by the semi-repaired cottage suddenly spike their head upward and around as if sniffing madly. The lone goblin nearly drops his sword and, in confusion, looks around.

So conveniently that the moment the goblin turns his back, the three wolves suddenly leap from their spot and dash on their four legs to the smell of machfillis. Unsurprisingly the goblin by the cottage is panicking and perhaps too cowardly to chase after these wolves.

Il'Tak gets a better look at these animals as they near. Dull grey fur cover their bodies; legs and stomach rather malnourished. Red marks and scratches cover their bodies; one of them even has their left ear chipped and its mouth half-full of broken teeth. In contrast, Il'Tak has never seen a wolf look so straining in mad happiness. The awful smell of machfillis attracts the animals as if releasing primal instincts which they've bottled up for an unreasonably long time.

The three wolves reach the tree with a almost-slobbering series of pants and huffs. Almost immediately they bring their snouts down onto the gloop and attempt to chow down, bumping their wolven heads against each other. They are quite comfortably distracted for now. There's ample time for Il'Tak to get in on the cottage now, or take out the wolves while they are feasting... for a certain definition of "feast."

Huh... it seems that Lavender is good for something after all. Il'Tak will have to remember that for later.

Getting a good look at the wolves, Il'Tak's heart sinks. Captivity had all but killed these beasts for him. If he was better at working with animals (rather than their pelts), Il'Tak may have tried to free these beasts. Alas, all that the orc can offer is a different sort of mercy.

Drawing his sword, Il'Tak ambushes the wolves and attempts, swinging for their vitals. Three malnourished wolves are no big challenge for a well-fed warrior.

Distracted, famished, and lost of their senses, the forcefully-trained wolves are too slow to react to the hunter's quick ambush. The exquisite sharpness of Dura's blade undermines just how frail the fur and muscles are. The first wolf falls with a clean slice through its grey torso. The second finds its slobbering head skewered from the forehead and cleanly through the skull. And the third, having just recognized its predator, fails to produce a yelp before its head is cleanly torn from its neck. Had these wolves thrived in their habitat and had plenty to eat, their instincts would have guided them better.

Alas, away from its master, the wolves are too weak to survive on their own. At least now they may be out of their mercy.

Back at the cottage, the loud, yelling sounds from inside have yet to subside. The lone goblin, who was supposed to keep watch, goes into a panic upon hearing the distant sounds of guts and sharp blades. While smart enough to stay put, the goblin blindly looks in the direction the wolves went, the direction opposite where a thin dirt trail provides a small path, and the window behind him leading into the cottage. He can't be bothered to go inside, perhaps because he does not want to incur his boss' wrath. It'll be easier to sneak closer to the cottage now that the wolves have been taken care of. Alternatively, a lone goblin can be quickly and swiftly dispatched if Il'Tak favors a more direct method.

Well, that's one obstacle down.

Still coated in lupine blood, Il'Tak's well-honed hunting instincts beg him to seek out a stream and wash himself clean. In a real hunt, the scent of blood would draw out other predators as surely as any machfillis. Il'Tak could recount several hunting trips where he was forced to abandon his prey to a larger predator, lest he find himself on the menu...

Today is different, however. In this dead forest, the odds of finding beasts is little to none. If those wolves were any indication, there is nothing out here to eat. Further, Il'Tak can't risk wasting time, lest his quarry escape.

Besides, the sight of blood tends to unnerve most humanoids.

Il'Tak makes a wide circle toward the rear of the shack, careful not to leave any bloody footprints in sight. While goblins aren't known for traps, any defenses that they have mounted are likely aimed toward the front door.

Listening carefully, Il'Tak attempts to estimate how many creatures occupy the shack, locate their position, and find an alternate entrance...

Walking around the cottage proves to be an easier task now that the only goblin on watch is in a panic. Il'Tak steps through the short yellow grass that bends uncomfortably beneath his green bare feet as the burnt trees, some larger than others, provide him cover to hide in. While the sides of the cottage have nothing but a scant window, the semi-broken rooftop reveals a small, cracked opening for him to enter, should be prefer a dramatic and shocking ambush inside. A large, cracked window also aligns on the bottom floor of the cottage for a potentially subtler approach.

Listening in, the argument clears up as Il'Tak hears the voices of two people. The first, a male goblin. "You say, 'what we could find,' an' this is what we got!" The voice is scratchy but deep; his common is rough but relatively intellectual for a goblin. "We got two books on the orb! Took the whole shelf an' everything! An' I got the horde a' wolves coming back soon to join my five here if you wanna fight them all!" ...More coming? That might not leave a lot of time for Il'Tak if he wants to avoid fighting everyone.

On the opposite end of the argument is another voice, deeper, rougher, and genuinely chloric in his anger. "So dogs ah' pets ah' bandits can't greed a pithole o' ah' bookstore for ah' fortune!" The voice is heavily accented common, to the point that he might have just learned the language a week back. "I leave northward, ah' I know none o' 'e will follow. I hope th' troll comes ah' slays 'e for 'e cowardice!" A heavy, thick stomping sound of steel boots hammers on the wooden floor, impressively loud enough to hear from outside, as the dwarf takes his leave of the cottage.

Assuming the goblin inside is correct, there should be just himself and two wolves in there. A quick look through the window reveals the cottage as a single-room building, with no proper second floor and instead wood platforms held in place by pillars below. On top of the second floor platforms is a large leather sack closed with a couple books lying next to it. On the bottom floor is nothing but a wooden-crafted bed with a small mattress on top; around 3 more lie on the slightly-splintered ground. The goblin inside is different from the poor greenskin outside. This one wears leather armor, a thick dagger at his right hip and a strange, black stick of wood with a ball-shaped point at the end. He sits on the bed; his facial features hidden from the orc's point of view. The goblin sits on the bed, pulling out some sort of book and flipping through the pages at such a rapid speed as if taking no care to read the words. The two wolves with him lie on several mattresses, eyeing the shut wooden door. The two wolves appear as malnourished and scarred as the three from before. Unlike those wolves, these two are calm and patient as if willingly following orders.

Well... that was something.

Il'Tak doesn't quite know what the voices are talking about, though it is clear that the Goblin and Dwarf aren't friends... which works pretty well for Il'Tak. No need to add more enemies to the mix.

Speaking of which... 30... 29... 28... 27...

One goblin on guard... one inside... four beds total. Two goblins are still at large. Wouldn't be surprised if they had another half-dozen wolves between them.

...19... 18... 17... 16...

The goblin inside seems pretty smart. Not