Although there were no goblin guards around, Khalif Scobbistin still hugged the corner of the wall, trying his best to hide himself in the shadows. His right hand held a cloth bag high, almost parallel to his chest. He looked at the bag, then at the dagger on his right waist, and finally decided to pull it out and insert it into the belt on the other side of his body so that his left hand could quickly draw it if needed. After doing this, he stayed in place, staring at the cage in the center of the square ahead.
The densely spaced iron bars formed a hemispherical dome over a surface with a diameter of about forty yards. In terms of height, an ogre could move freely inside, except for the outer edges where the bars slanted and pierced into the ground. It was more like a small arena than a cage, but the gaps between the bars were too narrow for spectators to clearly see what was happening inside. In the dim moonlight, it resembled a giant claw with countless fingers, ready to lock everything under its palm in place for a blatant invasion of Gadgetzan.
Though Khalif couldn't see clearly, he knew there were people inside. He could vaguely make out two human figures leaning against the northern and southern sides of the cage. He wanted to move closer, but an unexpected hesitation kept him from stepping forward. It was as if this hesitation had no reason, as though it was due to the hard grains of sand before his toes rather than his inner thoughts.
A tauren passed by and bumped into Khalif. He felt as if a giant shield had struck his back, causing him to stagger forward two steps before steadying himself, dropping the bag in his right hand. He looked up, not intending to hide his anger, but the tauren seemed oblivious, continuing to walk forward—or perhaps he did notice but simply didn't think knocking a human kid off balance was worth his attention. Even by human standards, fourteen-year-old Khalif was a bit short, though he had grown three inches over the past year. He silently calculated that if this growth spurt continued until he was nineteen, he wouldn't have to look up to stare that tauren in the eye. He suddenly realized that obsessing over his growth rate was a childish behavior, something he couldn't tolerate. So, he picked up the cloth bag, brushed off the dust, and calmed himself.
The collision had knocked him out of the shadowy corner. This decision made him determined to approach the cage.
He first walked toward the northern side. From ten paces away, he could already smell the strong, distinctive stench. It was a blend of many unpleasant smells, both dry and damp, of flesh and bone, of life and death. This told him that the person he sought was on the other side, but curiosity kept him from turning immediately.
When he got close enough, he saw the rotting body of a female orc. Khalif recognized her. In the past, her Sharlp axe had commanded both fear and respect, but now people avoided her because of the stench from her corpse. She had always been covered in scars that spoke of battles, but what had killed her was a small, inconspicuous wound on her chest—a blade had slipped through this narrow passage and pierced her heart.
A gust of wind caused the corpse to tremble slightly, as if someone struggling to fall asleep was disturbed by the cold breeze. Khalif quickly noticed that it wasn't the wind moving her but a few scorpids tearing at her flesh. These creatures were dangerous, even to experienced adventurers. Khalif saw no reason to linger and turned toward the southern side of the cage.
The person he was looking for was wrapped in a tattered cloak, sitting cross-legged with her back against the iron bars, motionless. Sleeping while seated was wise; if attacked by the scorpids, at least her face wouldn't be the first part of her body to be eaten. Khalif's left hand moved along the bars as he slowly approached her. Only at night could he do this, as the intense sunlight during the day in Tanaris would heat these metal bars to the point of cooking raw meat. The exposed skin of her right arm, visible through the cloak's tear, bore clear burn marks.
"Sharll," Khalif said when he was almost standing right behind her, his voice so faint it seemed he didn't intend for her to hear. In fact, Khalif was secretly relieved she didn't wake up, as he hadn't yet figured out what he wanted to say.
Khalif took out a pie wrapped in paper from the cloth bag and tried to pass it through the bars. While the pie fit through easily, his arm got stuck at the elbow. He had planned to place it on her cloak between her knees, but now it seemed he could only toss it at her feet. If he did that, the insects hidden beneath the sand would likely devour it before morning.
Perhaps the only option was to wake Sharll and have her eat it right away. But Khalif suddenly felt the whole action was meaningless. She had been trapped in this cage for an entire month, killed her former companion and watched her rot, ate the scraps left by the goblin guards, and relieved herself by digging a pit in the distant sand piles at night when there were no passersby—and here he was, offering her a pie worth just four copper coins. The idea that such an offering could convey any positive message was absurd, especially considering that it was Khalif himself who had led her to this miserable state.
In that instant, Khalif felt worthless. He owed Sharll nothing. How ignorant she had been, thinking she could avoid trouble by using a masculine alias. A real, daring female bandit would never do such a thing. And if she hadn't watched out for those around her, leading to her downfall, that was her own fault. Sooner or later, she was bound to face disaster...
But Khalif's elbow was still stuck in the bars. He wanted to pull his arm out forcefully, but doing so would certainly ruin the pie. Even if Sharll didn't eat it, he didn't want to waste it, especially since he himself hadn't eaten his fill in days.
Just then, Khalif heard unexpected sounds behind him. He turned around and saw a goblin approaching with two guards. He had no choice but to pull his hand out quickly. The pie got sliced in half by the iron bars, leaving only a third in his hand, while the rest fell to the sand. He quickly ran back to the side of the building where he had been hiding, then continued down the alley, filled with sudden regret. He wasn't sure if the regret came from failing to carry out his plan or simply from losing two-thirds of a four-copper pie.
The lead goblin was Shakes Bigwits, the chief engineer of the Gadgetzan Waterworks Company. From a distance, he had seen the shadow crouched outside the cage, but he didn't want to bother with unnecessary matters. If that person had come to assassinate Sharll, it would save him the trouble. Moreover, he was about eighty percent sure that the shadow was Khalif, the little scoundrel who had betrayed his companions and claimed a reward from him, so there was nothing to worry about.
"Such a stink, such a stink." He muttered this while still some distance from the cage, pulling out a greasy rag to cover his nose. Just moments earlier, he had used the same rag to wipe down freshly oiled machine parts, but its smell was far more pleasant than the stench of decay.
He instructed the guards to open the cage door, walked in, glanced at the pie on the ground, and then looked at Sharll.
"Hey," Shakes said. "Sharll, you can go. Did you hear me? I know you did. You're awake, and you heard what I said."
She didn't respond.
Shakes told the guards, "You both saw it. I've announced her release. If Lord Livigaz asks later, you two will be my witnesses. Got it? Good, now let's go. It stinks too much here."
He hurriedly turned and left the cage, not caring if the guards followed. The situation annoyed him slightly—his former master, Silversnap, had personally ordered Sharll's imprisonment for attacking the water caravan, instructing him only to "keep her secure," without any further orders. After Gallywix's death, Shakes figured that meant he could dispose of her as he saw fit, so he locked her up with the captured orc woman and let them fight for survival. He had no reason for this, other than enjoying the spectacle. Shakes had always believed that fights between females were far more entertaining than male wars. Though he had initially considered organizing a small betting pool to make some extra money, he dismissed the idea after realizing Gallywix had died over a gambling-related incident, finding it unlucky.
After Sharll survived, Shakes hadn't kept his promise to release her right away. He didn't have a reason for this either, except that he couldn't be bothered. But now, out of the blue, the new owner of Venture Co., Livigaz, had sent an order to release her, instructing Shakes to "handle it cleanly and make sure she doesn't cause any more trouble." From this, Shakes deduced that Sharll had likely been a special hostage to the former boss, but Livigaz clearly had no interest in inheriting any of his late brother's problems, only his assets. Did this suggest that Livigaz would pursue a different trade strategy? At least for now, Shakes' income hadn't been negatively affected, so he wasn't too concerned.