World of Warcraft®

The slip of paper was little more than a scrap on Aeldgyth's desk, really; just a column of numbers and names like so many others in the AAMS offices:

3:2 - Vol'jin
2:1 - Baine Bloodhoof
3:1 - Drek'thar
3:1 - High Overlord Saurfang
5:1 - Lor'themar Theron
5:1 - Garrosh Hellscream (defeated rebellion)
7:1 - Sylvanas Windrunner
15:1 - Thrall (returned)
19:1 - Trade Prince Gallywix
35:1 - Collapse of "the Horde" as a Unified Force

Courier Elviria gave the sheet a little wave. "Forgive me, Dr. Whistlespark," she grunted, "but isn't your degree in anthropology, rather than mathematics?"

Aeldgyth huffed at her. "Typical human self-centeredness! We preferred the term 'demianthropology' at the former University of Gnomeregan."

She did not bother defending the sheet, its contents, or its existence to the grim-faced courier. Weather-beaten, gaunt, and graying, Elviria was the veteran of many battles. The emblem of the Scarlet Crusade -- the old one, before the Northrend expedition -- still stood out vividly on her cheek, tattooed in fading crimson. She had lived in army camps; ergo, she knew what a bookmaker's odds sheet looked like, and what it was for.

"More to the point," Aeldgyth went on calmly, "if you wanted to wager on a horse race, would you apply to a professor of statistics for advice, or to a horse breeder?" When Elviria grunted in tacit acknowledgement of the point, Aeldgyth favored her with a smug smile. "And when civilizations are about to re-order themselves, one would naturally apply to a student of civilization itself. Therefore..."

Rising, Aeldgyth retrieved the sheet from Elviria (by standing on a nearby chair) and spread it on the desk. Her pale finger reached out to tap the points one by one.

"Vol'jin is obvious. He commands the active rebel forces, and seems to be operating with the blessing of the former Warchief Thrall, which will hold enormous sway among the other leaders that Thrall brought together in the first place."

Her hand drifted lower. "Baine Bloodhoof is similarly well-positioned, and if anyone can be said to have an even more personal grudge than Vol'jin, it would be him. I consider him very likely to be the one that slays Hellscream personally, which counts for a great deal in the savage inheritance struggles of the Horde.

"Drek'thar and the High Overlord are safe compromises. They are known and largely respected, command relatively neutral forces that could serve as peacekeepers during an unstable transition period, and lack the status or influence of a Vol'jin or a Bloodhoof -- making them more palatable to the other leaders of the Horde, who may not want a powerful, centralized government in Orgrimmar. Both the Banshee Queen and the Regent of Silvermoon are more likely to favor a respected but outsider orc than the other of themselves."

She went on pointing down the list, her speech flowing faster as she really hit her stride. "That brings us to those two, of course -- the Banshee Queen faces steeper odds, as she remains unpopular with large segments of the Horde due to the rebellion in and near loss the Undercity a few years back, to say nothing of the unsavory practices of the Apothecary Society. Lor'themar is well-liked, as far as elves go, and is eagerly proving his worth in the field, but he faces an internecine fight in Silvermoon if he ever wishes to be more than Regent there. That struggle is likely to keep his attention diverted from seeking the Warchief's seat personally.

"Garrosh Hellscream, I give better odds for survival than most." She shrugged. "Orgrimmar is heavily fortified, and his air power is significant. A frontal assault would be suicide, and a siege difficult to secure without massive anti-air support. So long as any air lanes remain open, he can simply operate the city with a small but loyal force, indefinitely, and wait for outside threats to menace the rebel forces -- which, in this bloody world, will happen sooner or later, if they stand there with a massed army."

Her fingers hovered briefly around the bottom edge of the page. "The goblin Trade Prince is a longshot, as is any return on the part of Thrall. The rebels are unlikely to forgive the Bilgewater Cartel's ongoing support of Garrosh easily, and Thrall is not only preoccupied with high-minded shamanistic matters, he also has a family to consider. As to the outright collapse of the Horde..." She shrugged. "I suspect any such fall would take more than our lifetimes to complete, making it rather a hopeless wager.

"All this, of course, is subject to change based on the latest news. I'll keep my ears open, of course...and so will the helpful observers I've shared my first draft with!"

Aeldgyth knew the look on Elviria's face entirely too well. It was the slow, sinking look that so many non-gnomes got when they heard an idea of staggering genius.

"Aeldgyth," Elviria groaned, "just how many people have seen your little thought experiment by now...?"

Abominus skitters into the Betting Office of Booty Bay. A morose goblin slowly turns a crank, powering a ceiling fan that desultorily moves the turgid, humid air in the office. Several desks are occupied by various scribes jotting down notes. On one wall is hung the slate for the next season of the Interworld Water Polo League, with various notes on teams and odds.

He sidles up to a desk where a cigar-chomping goblin wearing a green hat is busy writing in a ledger.

"Gobbo- thing, yesss. We wisssh to place a bet on the upcoming Horde Warchief Intramural Ssscrum, yesss." Abominus hands over a large sack of gold. "Put thisss down on Abominusss, yesss."

The goblin clerk looks at the horrid Forsaken with surprise and incredulity.

"Alright, Mista Abominus. We got ya down fer 20 tousan' golds, issat right?"

The Maggot Lord nods.

" 'ey, Moigatroid, get ovah here and haul dis sack to da vaults! Now, Mista Abominus, do ya wan' da usual receipt?"

The Maggot Lord nods.

"Quincy!", he yells. "Go get me da orphan skin fer da Forsaken."

A bit later, clutching his receipt, Abominus scurries into the shadows. In his office, The Plan Flowchart begins to write again.

Andelia pinched the bridge of her nose and said a quiet prayer. Should could feel a headache coming on.

"So Aeldgyth thought it would be fun to make a betting game out of the current political turmoil in the Horde."

Loxxi, across from her, had perfected wide-eyed innocence years ago. Andelia didn't even bother looking up to see the goblin's baby-blues bat their long lashes at her.

"Mmm-hm!" the diminutive woman agreed. She'd toddled in with the latest from the Booty Bay offices.

"And somehow Abominus got wind of this."

"Mmm-hm!" said Loxxi, again.

"Thereby reminding him that the AAMS is still around, and that it's been a while since he bedeviled us."

Loxxi shrugged nonchalantly at that one. Far be it from a goblin, even an extra-special-clever one like her, to ponder the inner workings of Abominus's mind. Andelia was better suited for that; everyone agreed the slender elf was crazy already.

Andelia sighed heavily. "All right," she said. "Tell the Horde-side couriers to get topped off on all their immunizations, if they've been letting them slide. And if you see any more of Aeldgyth's little odds sheets going around...?"

Loxxi brightened noticeably. "Gonna lay a wager, ma'am?" she burst out, unable to help herself.

Andelia glowered. "...burn them, I was going to say," she said. "We're walking delicately Horde-side as is. I don't want word trickling up the channels to Hellscream that we're running a betting pool based on his impending deposition."

She took a deep breath to add a few more choice thoughts -- and then stopped, realizing that Loxxi was already bounding for the door, with glee in her eyes.

It took Andelia just a few seconds too long to realize what had made the little goblin happy. "Oh, no," she said. "Loxxi! No! Burn them safely, in a very private fireplace -- "

But it was too late. The goblin was gone. From the outer offices, Andelia could already hear the familiar FWHOOMP! sound of scraps of paper going up in flames.

It was going to be all sorts of fun explaining that one to the already-touchy Kor'kron once Loxxi hit the public streets...

I endorse Abominus as next Warchief!

hmm, no one but me thinks the prince of stormwind has a shot?

What are the odds for Gamon?