Chapter 132: Forming a Hunting Party

The nobleman's words only made Gred more stubborn.

"I'm not just any Wildhammer," he insisted. "That beast may have killed other warriors, but that doesn't mean it can kill me."

"It killed all three at once," the nobleman said. "I don't doubt your fighting skills, Mr. Dwarf. But a friend of mine saw that fight. Three Sandmar brothers had traveled down together from the highlands and tried to surround the Baron. It found an opening and killed them one by one. It was a terrible sight. Still, I admire the strength of your Wildhammer people. I was lucky enough to see those three Sandmar dwarves fight before. Together they killed a pair of raging white apes from Stranglethorn—a brother and sister. They were not weak fighters."

Gred stared at the nobleman. For a long while he said nothing.

Finally he wiped the rain from his face, looked from Jess to the nobleman, and said, "Then tell the captain to give me a hunting rifle."

"Don't count on it," the nobleman said, shaking his head. "The captain won't give you a gun so you can go downstairs and kill that panther."

"Because it's worth too much?" Jess asked.

"Exactly. It's a star of the Gurubashi Arena. Its value must be enormous. Do you think the captain would transport cargo that valuable for free? There must be a tremendously expensive shipping contract with the beast's owner, along with a guarantee worth even more. If the panther is injured or killed—if it loses the ability to fight—he'll owe more money than he can afford."

"So how much is the thing worth?" Gred asked curiously.

The nobleman glanced at him. "I couldn't give you a number. But there must be other passengers aboard who know its value just as I do. The captain knows that too. We'll see how much he's willing to offer for someone to capture the beast."

The ship's movements had become much gentler. Wind still drove the rain sideways across the deck, and the furled canvas on the masts snapped and rustled.

The worst of the storm seemed to have passed. Only low black clouds remained over the sea, staring down at the lone ship as if the ocean itself had grown calm and was curious to see what the people would do.

The passengers' discussions gradually faded. The captain was gathered with a group of goblins and a few human sailors, arguing among themselves. Their sharp, hurried voices carried over the crowd below.

Goblins with hunting guns aimed at the open hatches. Most of the cabin doors had already been locked tight.

After a while, several goblins dragged ropes, forks, and fishing nets out of another compartment. A tall human sailor emerged last, carrying a long pole.

They huddled together, talking. Jess could tell they were deciding which hold to search first and which to search next. The captain apparently meant to send his own men to deal with the problem.

Just as the nobleman had predicted, none of them carried a proper bladed weapon, except for a harpoon held by one goblin. Even that was a tool for fastening things in place. Jess doubted its two points could do much damage.

"They're trying to capture the panther alive," Jess said.

Gred sized up the group. "I don't like their chances. A black panther that could handle three Wildhammer warriors isn't an ordinary Stranglethorn animal. I doubt these men could kill it even if they fought with everything they had, never mind catch it alive."

He turned toward the nobleman. "Human, did your friend tell you what weapons those three dwarves had when they fought this Baron?"

"You have to understand that an arena puts on a show," the nobleman said, watching the goblins above. "They wouldn't give the dwarves special tools for trapping beasts. The three went in carrying the weapons they knew best—hammers and axes."

Jess had suspected as much. Nobles wealthy enough to travel to the Gurubashi Arena could probably watch animals being trapped with special tools on their own estates once or twice every month. There was nothing unusual about that.

Fighting claws at close range with a short axe and warhammer—that was a spectacle. People came to watch precisely because it was so strange and dangerous.

Gred shook his head but said nothing. Gladiators fought for fame and applause, so of course they cared about putting on a good show. He couldn't say much in defense of clansmen who killed for gold.

By now, the goblins and two humans had set off. Even with green faces, the goblins looked so pale with terror that Jess could tell they badly wanted to be somewhere else.

The humans looked grim too. They wore mail and chain armor to protect themselves from claws and carried all sorts of animal-catching equipment. But neither the armor nor the tools were enough to hide their fear.

They must know what they were facing, despite the captain's repeated denials.

After the group disappeared below, an extraordinary silence settled over the deck.

Rain kept falling. The wind made it hiss and rattle in waves, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. Lightning occasionally lit up the worried yet curious faces in the crowd. The captain gripped a rope and swayed with the gusts as he stared into the darkness.

The goblins with guns tried to keep their barrels pointed at the open hatches in case the beast suddenly came charging up.

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Jess was sure it wouldn't.

A panther that had become a star of the arena must have its own way of fighting. It would know when to attack and when to hold back.

Rushing onto the deck might let it kill a few more innocent people and add to its record, but the braver passengers would quickly surround it and beat it to death.

Jess looked around. Many people were now wearing or holding an assortment of knives, swords, and daggers. He hadn't realized so many people aboard carried weapons capable of killing a man.

Everyone had brought out whatever they used for self-defense, ready to fight for their lives. At last, the Steamwheedle Cartel's passenger list was showing its true character. Very few people on this ship were harmless.

Every face was tense, every gaze fixed on the hatches as intently as the gun barrels. The panther couldn't fail to understand that coming up here meant death.

If the hunting party below failed, the standoff might continue until dawn—or even until they reached port.

But once daylight came, the people on deck would be the ones at a disadvantage.

Even in late November, with temperatures not especially high, the sun beating down on a ship at sea all day would soon become unbearable. Eventually people would have to return to the panther's hunting ground, and no one knew how many more would be injured or killed.

The goblin guarding the cargo hold was already dead. First Mate Gazik was probably in serious trouble too. Otherwise the captain would never have come out to take charge personally. He hadn't shown his face at all in the first days of the voyage. Gred had even joked that perhaps he was still at the harbor "staring at some green girl's ass" and had missed his own ship's departure.

Time passed slowly. People who had been watching the hatches or pressing their ears against the deck in hopes of hearing something below gradually gave up. Everyone knew the first hunting party probably hadn't fared well.

How many more deaths could the captain allow?

One thing was certain: the ship could never come into port with a loose panther aboard.

The guards at Southshore would never allow a crazed beast to run wild on land. The moment they heard what was happening, they'd put on heavy armor, grab their shields, storm the hold, and hack the creature to pieces.

Jess glanced at his pocket watch. It was already well past midnight.

At some point the captain had climbed back to the raised part of the deck. He looked over the passengers, apparently hesitating.

"Two gold coins!" he suddenly shouted, holding up two fingers. "Two gold coins to capture that damned... panther alive!"

"What?!"

"I told you it was the black panther!"

"Two gold coins?"

"That's an awful lot... two whole gold coins?"

"How much can that panther be worth? Is it worth two gold?"

"Shut up, pauper. You clearly don't know a thing. That's the Baron of the Night! It must be worth more than ten gold coins..."

The deck erupted in excited voices. Even Jess couldn't stay calm.

Since arriving in Stormwind, what job had ever offered him even one gold coin? Never mind two!

He hadn't received a cash reward like that even for helping save an entire fortress. Goblins really were rich. Or rather, the people running those arenas were rich. If the captain was willing to spend two gold to catch the panther, the shipping fee he was receiving must be even higher.

But his months of chasing money in Stormwind had taught Jess something else: a reward was usually connected to how dangerous the work was. The job of hunting orcs in Redridge had paid only a dozen or so silver coins.

This reward was roughly equivalent to killing five or six Hoggers.

The comparison wasn't exact, of course. But imagining a fight against five or six Hoggers at once made his scalp prickle.

A large reward always drew brave—or reckless—volunteers. Almost immediately, two men stepped forward.

Gred looked tempted too. He grabbed Jess's arm.

"Want to go down and have a try?"

"I don't want to fight an arena celebrity to the death, Gred," Jess answered. "Think about it. Half this ship seems to know him. Some of them may even have watched his matches. Would you get into a boxing ring with a champion from your own region?"

Gred laughed. "I've won awards myself! Don't forget what I did to that Trollbane fellow at the Pig and Whistle! No matter how famous this Baron is, he's still an animal. Besides, if he were really so mighty, why isn't he the Count of the Night, or Duke of the Night, or King of the Night? I don't believe... not if I've got the right tools!"

"Look at the group that went down earlier," Jess said. "They were fully equipped. Why haven't they come back?"

"They're sailors, that's all. I've been a hunter," Gred said. "Those goblins may know more about the sea than me, but they certainly don't know more about dealing with animals. And look at the helpers volunteering. Every one of them wants money badly enough to fight for it! Those fellows look like bounty hunters. Four experienced hunters against one beast—that's practically free money. The Baron may be a gladiator, but this isn't an arena!"

"It's much worse than an arena down there," Jess said, remembering following the blood through the hold. "Remember what that rich man said? If we go, let's at least wait until daylight. There'll be more light below. Going down now is asking for trouble."

"Well, that's true."

Gred couldn't argue with that. Frustrated, he folded his arms, sat heavily beside Jess, and stared at the two volunteers without moving.

Two people clearly weren't enough to capture the panther. The goblin captain shouted a little longer, then pulled a gold coin out of his purse and raised it high.

"Three! Anyone else? I'll pay three gold coins!"

"Three?" Gred's eyebrows shot up.

Another volunteer raised her hand—a woman. That was more than Gred could bear.

"Three gold coins, Jess! What if those people get all the money? And there's a woman among them!"

"We weren't planning to earn that money in the first place. Wouldn't it be better if they took it? Then we could get through this safely and the ship could reach the other shore without another problem."

"It's different now." Gred stared at the gold coin gleaming in the goblin's hand. "There's money sitting right there. Three whole gold coins. If I don't try to earn it... I'm losing money! Jess, you think five experienced hunters can't take one beast? Look at that woman. She's built like a she-bear. I bet she could kill me with one punch!"

Jess looked at the eager dwarf, then at the three volunteers who had gathered. Gred wasn't entirely wrong. All three looked capable. The way they handled the ropes, nets, and long forks the goblin sailors handed them suggested they knew what they were doing.

He glanced once more at the shining gold coin.

"Ah, to hell with it. It isn't the first stupid thing we've done. Come on!"

"Ha! You should've said so earlier!" Gred ran forward excitedly and shouted, "If five of us go and split three gold coins, how are we dividing it?"

"We've got plenty of silver aboard, brother from Aerie Peak," the captain said, much calmer now. "At the current value of gold, eighty silver coins each if you succeed. How about it? You three, do you agree?"

The volunteers exchanged a few words, then nodded. They weren't about to risk their lives over a small difference in pay. They probably saw the chance to earn extra money while making the voyage safer. The more help, the better.

"I'll need a shield," Gred said. "Do you have any shields aboard?"

"Of course." The captain waved a goblin over, and the sailor brought a shield bearing the emblem of Lordaeron. Jess couldn't tell where it had come from. It wasn't even badly damaged.

When Gred took it, the pointed lower end nearly touched the deck. It was clearly meant for someone taller.

"Better than nothing."

He accepted a pole as well, then turned to the crowd and called, "Anyone else coming? If not, we're going down!"

None of the other volunteers objected. And just like that, a five-person hunting party had been put together on the spot.