“It cannot be right!” snarled Borpo, and Darak took a step forward this time.
Feista flinched and covered her face. Free of her grip, her tail tucked itself back between her legs.
Asherzu waved her brother away without taking her eyes from Borpo. “We must act on facts, on information. We must succeed by spotting what others miss, by finding what larger firms pass over. Yet you continue to rely on feelings and common perceptions. We have spoken before of this on several occasions, have we not?”
“But—” said Borpo, deflating a little.
“Three timesss, Lady,” said Ms. Thyssisss, consulting a file in her lap.
“That have been documented,” added Mr. Meister.
“And yet here we are again. Such failure to improve is unacceptable! Your demotion shall be swift and merciless, and the analysis team shall no longer report to you.” Asherzu made the proclamation as one might hand down a death sentence on the battlefield.
The Orc paled. “But… but why—”
“Come along,” said Mr. Meister, guiding the Orc toward the door.
“And when next I see you in the tribe meetings, I expect your beard to be a finger length shorter,” said Asherzu as Ms. Thyssisss slid up beside Borpo.
“But… no! Please!” Borpo said to the Gremlin and Naga. “Talk some sense into her! Surely my concerns do not warrant such punishment!”
“Pehapsss if it wasss a sssolitary isssssue,” said Ms. Thyssisss, “but we have documented your offensssesss exssstensssively.” She took him by the arm and guided him toward the doorway.
“Mr. Meister—Gabor, come now!” pleaded Borpo. “Did I not share roast boar and fine grog with you after the last company feast? Are we not brothers in arms? How can you do this?”
Mr. Meister shrugged. “As we like to say, you don’t have to be cold-blooded to work in HR. But it helps!”
The Gremlin and the Naga shared a laugh as they led the Orc away. Feista was still trembling when she turned back to the CEO. To her surprise, she found Asherzu grinning.
“Finally, a way to pull that thorn from our side,” the chieftain said to her brother.
“For a time, anyway,” said Darak. “Borpo will find a way back to power.”
“Of course. His persistence is what makes him valuable. But, by the fallen gods, it is nice to have some respite from his scheming.” Asherzu looked back at Feista with a warm smile. “I am sorry you were forced to endure such a display. Please, accept my apologies, and tell me more of your findings on the dragon’s hoard.”
“Uh…” Feista’s stomach was still firmly lodged in her throat. “I… uh…”
“Please. Do not be nervous,” said the Orcess. “Boldly explain your findings, and then know that we will check them. And if they are wrong, well, we shall all learn something.”
“Y-yes, lady,” said Feista. “I am not scared of being wrong.”
“Then why is your tail—”
Feista shifted in her seat and swore to herself that she’d cut off her thrice-cursed tail someday. “I worry because I do not know what all of this means, Great Lady. Because people yell or go white with terror or… or get demoted at the mention of the dragon’s hoard being overvalued. And it is still a theory! What will happen if it is proven? I am scared of being right!”
“Do not worry.” Asherzu idly picked up a warg skull from her desk and stared into its empty eyes. “If you are right, your findings might be exactly what this company needs.”
“How can that be?” asked Feista. “Lady, it would be a disaster.”
Asherzu’s smile mirrored the skull’s fanged grin. “For those who fear to tread new paths, it would be. But for those with bold hearts, with the strength and courage to dance with the thunderstorm and carve new paths with the lightning…” She set the skull down and turned her smile to Feista. “Well, for us, the future is always bright.”
“Glowing with a light beyond mortal comprehension,” said Kaitha.
“Filling the halls of eternity with glorious radiance,” the guard said automatically.
Gorm squirmed and tried to discreetly adjust his makeshift robes. “Sowing… uh… blessings an’ justice in… erf… in equal measure.”
“And so bringing light unto the darkness.”
“May it be so.” Gorm held his breath and tried not to stare at the guard as he waited. Sweat beaded on his brow and chafed under his ever-bunching robes.
“Always and forever,” finished the guard, a black-bearded Dwarf in a simple red and white tabard. He leaned against the doorway that served as his post and nodded appreciatively to the disguised heroes. “Good, good. Ye two are learnin’ fast, for new ones. Though your friend needs to speak up more.”
Gaist, still cloaked in the form of a small woman, shrugged and nodded.
The old Dwarf nodded at Gorm. “Plus, you’re still tryin’ to wear Human robes. One of the Elves put ye up to that?”
“Aye. One did.” Gorm gave Kaitha a sidelong glare as he scratched at the robes furiously.
“Har! They never tire of that bleedin’ prank,” said the guard amiably. “Don’t worry. Sister Erika’s the quartermaster—she can set ye up with a nice tabard. Much more comfortable. There aren’t many Dwarves here, but there’s enough that they’ll have one in your size.”
“And where’s she set up again?” Gorm asked.
“Right down in the lower barracks.” The guard turned to nod at the correct hallway, giving Gorm an opportunity to punch him squarely in the jaw and slam his head into the stone wall.
A few minutes later, Gorm admired his new tabard as Gaist and Kaitha dragged the unconscious Dwarf back down the hall. “This fella was right,” he said, enjoying a cool breeze below his belt. “This is much more comfortable.”
