In an entirely unexpected way

"Let me get this straight...." You say, glaring at the shameful display in front of you.

Standing before you are seven badly beaten goblins. One of them has an eye so badly swollen that he can't even look through it. Another has a broken arm, which he tenderly carries in a sling. One of them has both his knees shattered, and he has to be carried on the shoulders of two of his kin. A poor fool to your right looks like he ran face-first into a hive of bees, with bumps decorating his head. Purplish welts cover all their bodies and all of them carry a hint of shame on their faces.

"You're telling me a WOMAN did this to you?"

They all looked sheepish and tried to look away from you in embarassment. One goblin spoke up, nervously defending himself, "Not just any woman, chief! A warrior-woman! She carried a bow and a spear! And she surprised us during the night! That she-devil killed three of us before the rest of us got away!"

The others nod eagerly, backing up their comrade's claim. "She was human!" One gobllin at the back said. "And she was big!" Another called out from the side.

"A giant!" "Ten feet tall!" "Yes!" "No! Twenty feet tall!" "And she had four arms!" "That's right!"

Aside from the obvious exaggerations, their descriptions appear to match that of an Amazonian. An all-female nation, the Amazons held a fearsome reputation for being excellent fighters. They were nomadic, much like goblins, but they were hardier and much more respected by the vast array of nations in the realm.

Lishau and other scouts had warned you that a small tribe of Amazons had recently migrated to the Steppe. But why would they hold any grudge against you? You barely even interacted with them, preferring to keep out of their way and minimize the number of enemies your tribe had. Such a blatant sign of aggression is unusual for Amazons, who preferred to kidnap men for breeding, and you doubt they could sustain a war against the native goblin tribes in the area. You cup your chin and ponder the information given to you. Such an attack demands a response. If you don't react, your authority could be weakened.

"Do you remember where she attacked you?" You ask.

They nod slowly, visibly anxious over what your next statement will be.

"Then gather your things. We're going back and we're going to capture this 'she-devil' you are talking about."

Your followers' faces whiten and they swallow hard, looking at each other nervously.

Upon arriving at the location where your hunting party was attacked, you immediately order your tribe to make camp. You build up several large fires around the campsite and in the center, surrounded by tents and campfires, sat a tall, strait-backed chair atop a dais made of rugs and wolf furs. A throne for you to sit upon and act as bait.

Many members of your tribe protested your decision to lure the warrior woman out in the open with your own body, but you needed to set an example. If your bravery will encourage others to do the same, and you are quick to reassure them that you will be armed and not alone. As the sun sets, everyone takes their positions to prepare for the trap.

It wasn't nighttime for long before the Amazon attacked.

The first sounds were grunts and cries of pain from the perimeter of the camp. Your eyes snap open upon the first scream, awakening from a light slumber from atop your throne. Whipping your head to the direction of the attack, your eyes scan the dimly lit campground. A dark blur here. A shadow there. You cannot fully make out the figure, but you can roughly tell that it is making a circuitous path towards your position. Now you know for certain that this is an assassin.

Struggling with the urge to rush down and join the rest of your goblins in the scattered fray, you watch tensely as your beleaguered tribesmen hem the Amazon woman inwards, towards your location at the throne. She sees an opening, deliberately made, and rushes toward you with her spear levelled at your heart, the spearpoint glittering white from the moon. The moment she reveals herself, the lights from several campfires illuminating her position, you spring the trap.

"Now!!" You scream.

Lying in wait behind livestock and inside their tents, your command brings all of the Goblins out into the open. Brandishing nets and hooks, your tribesmen hurl them up into the air and towards the woman, who freezes for an instant in surprise. A moment is enough though, and the nets find their mark. She snarls in frustration as the rope knots entangle her and she tries to fight free.

Sighing in relief, you step away from the thone to assess the damage done to your tribe. Luckily, no one was killed. By your orders, they had not shown too much resistance, so the Amazon had left the goblins with only disabling injuries. It appears this woman has some token of sympathy within her. Perhaps you can use that. You stand in front of the woman, now bound up and held in front of you.

"I'll leave out the usual bit about introductions." You begin, squatting down in front of the woman. "Why did you attack my tribe? Tell me!"

The Amazonian bites her lip and remains silent. She glares daggers at you, but hidden behind them is something else: Fear. Not for herself, but for another. A fear so powerful that she was **** enough to throw herself into a tribe of goblins. She is not doing this of her own free will.

"Who made you do this?" You say, firmly but more gently, this time. "I am Vehumet of the Tahsh tribe, and if you tell me who **** you into this attack, I swear I will slay him. Tell me."

"Please....Please." The warrior-woman said, her head hung low. "You have to die."

"Why?"

"Or else he'll kill her! They captured my lover and the rest of my tribe! If I don't kill you, they'll **** and **** everyone! Please!"

"Who captured your tribe? Who will kill them?"

Lips trembling, the spirit in her eyes broke for the first time and the Amazon whispers, "...Gurmukh."