[Goblin H-RP] <Flashbang Exports> Boomtastic!

Flywheel instructed Wurtzix to keep an eye out for the package, and if it arrives, to leave it outside, and NOT bring it into the office.

"Sure boss," Wurtzix replied, shrugging his stocky, rounded shoulders. "Anything else? I thought we were all caught up. Business is smooth."

Flywheel was chewing on a pen that was topped with a hobgoblin on a spring. "Almost..." she muttered, perusing her finger down a neatly printed list. "We're running a bit low on gatherers. I need herbalists to fetch us more firebloom for rocket fuel. We're also low on thick skins for making cluster fireworks."

"Leather skins are used to make fireworks?" Wurtzix queried dubiously.

Flywheel stamped a tiny goblin foot. "I don't make the recipes, pal!" She seethed, then paused, furrowing her brow as she re-read the note. "Hang on, we're also missing a tailor. Yes, someone to make us some fancy costumes for our parties. Can you go out and find me some more hired hands, Wurtsy dear?"

Wurtzix tugged on his deep green sideburns, wishing he could refuse. Unfortunately, that would mean he wouldn't get paid this week. "Yes, I'll do my best," he declared, resolving himself to the task. He was just going to have to keep searching, far and wide...or at least until his boots wore out.
Flywheel watched Trazik depart from the Broken Keel Tavern in Ratchet, as she pulled a wad of papers out of her satchel and began scribbling.

Plan A) Forget about Smeed Scrabblescrew, disobey Gazlowe's request, and get on with selling more fireworks!

She paused, chewing on the end of her pen, and then quickly crossed out that last sentence.

Plan B) Work on fulfilling Tyrinade's demands, rescue Smeed, and hope that no one ever finds out that we did business with necromancers.

Flywheel re-read that last sentence, shook her head, and put a line through that one too.

Plan C) Find the missing caravan, hope like HELL that it is still intact, and pass it back to Smeed with no questions asked. Wash hands of the dirty deal.

Flywheel sighed. "Yeah, dream on," she muttered quietly, as she inked it out.

Plan D) Follow Trazik Goldsprocket's suggestion, and procure some unworthy humans from the deserts of Tanaris.

Flywheel rubbed her tiny, sweaty palm against her forehead, trying to think. It might work. It could, possibly. Why couldn't those scourge-worshippers have been satisfied with GNOME corpses? She was sure they could find some of them, or make some anyway.

Flywheel scolded herself. Where were her morals?! She wasn't a killer. Why was it so hard to think straight, and why did she feel so uncertain? As a tear of frustration crawled down her face, it dripped onto the page and made the writing smudge.

Angry at herself, she screwed up the piece up paper and threw it towards the rubbish bin. As usual, her aim was terrible.
Trazik Goldsprocket clambered out of the dustbin that Ratchet generously called a 'tavern', his misshapen brow (even for a Goblin) reeling upwards amidst a sigh of relief. He'd been in some bad business deals before, but agreeing to barter with Scourge necromancers had been a first. Not to mention the fact his new business partner was apparently a young twerp claiming to be Gazlowe's grand-daughter. A part of him actually wanted to believe it, if not simply to be a claimant to the Orgrimmar architect's fortune. Still, Goldsprocket Co.'s coffers were practically empty after Venture Company's falling out with the Horde. Turns out that siding with public enemy #1 tanks your business opportunities; doubly so when your company's entire purpose was to launder Venture Company's massive profits.

Where the heck was his timey-wimey portal to jump through in order to reverse his misfortune?

"Sheesh, this better be worth it," Goldsprocket mumbled under his breath as he headed for the nearest boat back to Feralas. The little direhorn runt at his side would be stuffed into a nearby cage by him, the goblin's beady eyes looking at the dinosaur's horns with a look of avarice. It amazed him how no one else had the bright idea of raising exotic animals for their ivory tusks and horns. Not every orc in the Horde was a Saurfang or an Orgrim who could slay the most ferocious beasts of Kalimdor, and that meant customers—lots of 'em.

"Best deal I ever made," Trazik snickered, paying no attention to the baby dinosaur's cries from the goblin's rough-handling of the cage. "Just hope I don't get death coiled into next week."
As Trazik passes through Camp Mojache, he is greeted by a dark-skinned goblin trader with short black hair, cropped to her shoulders. She is decked out in a red lumberjack shirt, and a pair of blue overalls, and behind her is a kodo loaded with what appears to be bundles of long, yellowed bones. She flags Trazik down to get his attention.

"Hey. Trazik Goldsprocket, right? Ya don't know me. My name is Zezlik Simmerswitch, and I work for 'em Venture Trading Company boys." She patted one of the bulging satchels attached to the kodo's rump, which was embroidered with the Venture Company crest. "We got lots of work going on - Mulgore, Stranglethorn, Felwood, Ashenvale, Stonetalon - even some good bone collecting going on in Desolace. What can I say? The world is ripe for the picking."

A scowl suddenly crossed Zezlik's face, as her tone became dark and menacing. "But one thing we don't like, is COMPETITION!" With a hiss, she flicked a dagger out from one of the many compartments of her overalls, and ran it across her tongue. She curled her lip, and smirked. "I hope I'm making myself clear," she continued quietly, baring her sharp, pointy teeth.

Waiting to ensure her threat had taken the desired effect, Zezlik slowly slid the dagger away and fixed a fist to her rounded hip. "Yeah, we got spies out in all sorts of nooks and crannies, making sure our assets are protected. We heard about that trade ya been doing, Goldsprocket. Gold, silver, a few chunks of dinsosaur horn. Ya might think ya can undercut the market, but we ain't happy. I gotta find new buyers for these kodo bones now. Our man Bibbly F'utzbuckle says the delivery caravans are getting raided, and he don't trust anyone no more, what with all that's been going down."

"Ya think I like having to play pick-up and ride these big ugly beasts halfway across Kalimdor? Well, I don't. It fricken' stinks. So when I finally make it out of Desolace, and find that some hot shot independent businessman been making robbing us of all our fat moolah deals...it makes me mad, real mad. Ya better go back ya bags and head offshore, pal. Unless ya want to cut a deal and give us 70% of ya profits. That seems pretty fair. I'll let ya decide."

"And if ya can't use ya noggin and make the right one, well. Ya better lock up ya tent at night." Zezlik laughed, as she rolled up her shirt sleeves and began clambering back up on top the back of the kodo.
We have a couple of RP events coming up. They are both goblin-themed, but non-guild members are welcome to join in if they can put up with us.

The first is a continuation of our RP campaign. Basically our pal Smeed Scrabblescrew who runs some kodo caravans out in Desolace has gotten himself into a bit of a pickle and has been taken hostage by Tyrinade of <Onyx Rose Order>. If they want to save his backside (and keep Gazlowe's business interests protected) the crew of <Flashbang Exports> need to find themselves a nice fresh human corpse to appease the necromancer's demands. Then there's the problem with transporting the goods across a whole flippin' continent to Fenris Keep. Luckily the boys at <Bladebane Industries> might be able to help with that, for the right price (exorbitantly high, of course).

What: Smeed's Dilemma (RP Campaign)
When: Friday 30th April, 9pm
Where: Meet at Undercity, by the bat handler
What to bring: Your most gangsta-looking clothes. We'll be doing this on the sly.

The second event is the "Goblin Lore Expedition". This will be a reoccurring event, about every month or so (but the actual date may change). Basically it's a chance for new goblins to learn how to be goblins. So it's aimed at RP beginners mostly, but anyone who doesn't mind a bit of repetition and friendly goblin banter is welcome to come along. We'll be interviewing NPCs and finding out their place in the world - who they're friends with, who they're not, and what they're trying to achieve.

Ths month, we'll be visiting Pixel at Splintertree Post in Ashenvale. Why is she hanging out with orcs? What does she think of the satyr encampment nearby? Come along to find out!

What: Goblin Lore Expedition
When: Friday 6th April, 9pm
Where: Splintertree Post, Ashenvale
What to bring: Any questions you have for Pixel

Thanks for reading!
Flywheel pens a letter to Trazik.

Look buddy, I know ya got ya own issues with ya mining company an' all but why ya gone all poofy on me?! We gots a gobbo hittin' out Tanaris bandits as I write this, an' where was ya when I needed ya? I got no choice pal. If ya got valuable intel I can't just be lettin' ya run around tellin' everyone. I gotta cut ya loose. It's a shame though. Thought ya had some potential in that green hide.

Cheers ears,
A letter returns, the envelope tainted with the smudges of oil.

Hey sweet stuff, sometimes a guy's gotta have a little poof in his step. Keeps the competition on their toes and the cute gals waitin'. Like you. And hey, ain't like I did nothin' for ya! Wouldn't be out in Tanaris hittin' pink-skin goons if it weren't for your pal Goldsprocket, eh?

Don't worry though, Mahoney. These fat green lips stayed sealed with your little...
uh, skeleton trouble. Ain't exactly the type of info I'd want my name publicly attached to anyways when you're running errands for ghouls. As for cuttin' me out of your little gang, I'm playin' the world's smallest violin over here. Can't say I blame ya, but the thing is though, I've got a few shiny friends here tellin' me that you might change your mind.

Keep it real, Flywheel. (Yeah, I rhymed mine too.)

Flywheel read the letter, wanting to scrunch it up into a crumpled ball. Instead, she folded it neatly, with edges as crisp as the thin line that formed her lips.

"Blast that poofy, over-enterprising, arrogant, good-for-nothing swindler!" Flywheel declared, as she took a bite of extremely old and crusty bread, and washed it down with a few slurps of soda water.

She looked around for someone to take out her frustrations on, before finally resorting to assaulting her bread to a pile of crumbs. Just like that day in Ratchet, a small voice reminded her. Flywheel shut it out, and locked the window securely.

"I ain't fallin' for no fancy words," she said aloud, to no one in particular. In fact, if she was gonna give this "Trazik Goldsprocket" a job, then he was going to have to work twice as hard as everyone else. In fact, she had something special in mind, right up his alley.

Pushing away her mutilated sandwich remains, Flywheel fetched a pen and paper and began to write anew.

Look here, Goldsprocket. I got a proposition today. Somethin' that you just gonna love, since ya all into "protectin' the precious ores" an' all that. Heh. Yeah, I know that tune ya humming. Ya helped us out on a major deal, and ya didn't stuff up. Just as well. For a while there I had my doubts. But see, there's this orc named Corta, looking to sell some shiny stuff they call azerite. Yeah, yeah. Forget ya read that name. In fact, burn this letter, cos I don't want any gobbos thinking there's stuff goin' on between us. Cos there isn't.

Now, ya need to get down to Silithus and check out those operations. I need a report. Oh, and watch out for anything that looks dead but also movin'. After today, I got a bad case of the heebie jeebies. Now, I'm just lookin' for intel, not product. I know ya good with this kinda job. Keep it low. Keep it quiet.

And no more rhymes!

<The letter is signed with a flowery script that appears to be Flywheel's name.>
A dusty letter returns to Flywheel's desk. Or workshop. Or whatever dusty corner of Ratchet she might have favored at the moment.

Alright, Mahoney.

I ain't exactly favorable to walking around in Gallywix turf, but I owe you one for goin' poofy on you. I popped on over yesterday to do your 'intel' for ya in that backwater Silithus. Spoiler alert: There's a friggin' sword the size of fifty Gallywix Pleasure Palaces stacked on top of each other. You probably could have just looked outside your window for that one, but figured it worth mentionin'.

As for the Azerite, yeah... Gallywix's goons are all over the place. Slipped in among'em for a bit, tasted a bit of their off-brand cola (pretty sure it's just oil pretendin' to be cola), and didn't learn much. 'Cept that this Azerite stuff? Hot commodity, I tells ya. Lucky for you and me, seems like this stuff ain't limited just to this dump. Azerite's been popping up in Feralas too, where those dumb tree elves live. Not just on that island the Alliance and Horde've been shootin' each other up on, but on the mainland too. In fact, word around Orgrimmar's that the Dark Lady's musterin' some troops to push into that area a week from now.

You want my honest opinion? I'd take dodgin' Alliance cannonballs to risking getting my head chopped off in Ghoulsville. Shamblin' ain't my style, Mahoney. Your call though.

We love goblins!

Except when they give us exploding presents.

We appreciate the gift, but not all of us have the constitution of Wile E. Coyote
After drinking a long cup of Ka'ja Cola, the schematics for a powerful new weapon began formulating in Flywheel's crafty goblin mind.

"That's it! We will begin construction on the "Megablast-XL4001 Gnome Sensonator"! It will be an super-charged weapon with specially programmed cannon balls that can sense and track gnomes and their foul Alliance waft! Any kind of relic digging activity or ore map running to their disgusting human allies will be tracked, and blown up before it can progress any further!"

Flywheel chewed on the end of her pen, her thoughts racing.

"Goblins will be the only tinkers with the knowledge to locate azerite ore nodes! We will monopolize the market! Everyone that needs azerite will come straight to us!"

Excited, Flywheel began writing hurriedly to Trazik Goldsprocket. It was just a quick note this time, as she had important work to do.

Hey there, Trazik

I know we had our moments when we butted heads, but I forgave ya for all that. We're on the same team now, and ya got some good intel going. Better than I coulda produced myself, if I'm bein' honest. Here's what I want ya to do. We gotta lay claim to those azerite nodes in Silithus and Feralas. We got the technology to find 'em before anyone else. Maybe we can't get all of 'em, but we can try. Take whoever ya want from our company as cheap labour, and make it happen. Now, we might come across some competition, but I got some ideas for handling that. I'll tell ya about when I see ya next. In the meanwhile, I'm gonna talk prices with some of these other Horde companies. Leave the diplomacy to me.

Tootin' and rockin'

As an afterthought, Flywheel picked up another piece of paper, and wrote to a new friend of hers.

Dear Sibellatrix,

We bumped into each other at the Horde Expo a few weeks back. Maybe it wasn't in person, but I had my eyes on ya. Couldn't help but notice that ya got some dealings goin' on in this whole azerite business. We got some things in common, and I reckon we can make it profitable. Whaddya say? Should we talk turkey? Let's meet up somewhere that pryin' ears aren't gonna hear.

Your pal,
Flywheel Mahoney
Head Executive of Flashbang Exports
Flywheel looked at the mail delivery goblin with disappointment. "Whaddya mean, there's nothin' for me? Humph! Don't people write letters anymore?"

She stomped back to her office and threw a paper dart at Zuzza.
Our goblin lore expedition to Splintertree Post, Ashenvale is happening at 9pm server time tonight!

A great chance for goblins and non-goblins to learn what's going on! Suitable for RP beginners.
Praise be to explosions!
Just wanted to say I support goblin only guilds 110%
Thank you Sannae and Sibellatrix! We goblins like to leave our mark. With a bang!
Bump for my pals and gals of Flashbang Exports! Great group, really enjoyed the Grand Prix in Desolace and the bar nights!
Aw, thanks Cazixx! You were a great help. We should run another event soon. Anyone have any requests? Otherwise expect something crazy and zany, and absolutely goblin-style!
New goblin event in the works!

We are having a "goblin lore expedition" to Sludge Fen in the Northern Barrens. The lore expeditions are a reoccurring event, about every month or so (but the actual date may change). Basically it's a chance for new goblins to learn how to be goblins. So it's aimed at RP beginners mostly, but anyone who doesn't mind a bit of repetition and friendly goblin banter is welcome to come along. We'll be interviewing NPCs and finding out their place in the world - who they're friends with, who they're not, and what they're trying to achieve.

Ths month, we'll be starting out by visiting the Bilgewater Cartel goblins at Nozzelpot's Outpost in the Northern Barrens, and finding out why they're stationed there. Not far away is the Sludge Fen, which is run by the Venture Trading Co. What is the relationship between these two groups, and what is their objective? Come along to find out!

What: Goblin Lore Expedition - Sludge Fen
When: Friday 4th May, 9pm
Where: Nozzlepot's Outpost, Northern Barrens
What to bring: Some gumboots. It's going to be muddy!
Kragus sifted through the pile of refuse looking for usable materials for his toys. He could save Azeroth from some of the trash that choked its ground and get free materials for his business.

If only other goblins realized there is actually a tremendous profit in the business of caring for Azeroth's resources. Instead, they seem hell bent on destroying it. Well, one goblin company's trash is another goblin company's treasure, and I'm striking it rich!

He found a pile of smashed wood that could be easily reshaped by a tinker of his caliber into the best toys that money can buy. As he lifted the last board into his satchel, he found a piece of squished, crumpled up paper lying bare against the ground. He didn't know why, but he felt compelled to smooth it out and read its contents.

03/07/2018 11:57 AMPosted by Tixby
Dear Flashbang Exports,

You're dead.

Pride of Gnomeregan

Oh my. I might want to keep an eye on this situation. I recognize the name Flashbang Exports from some advertisements I saw once. They were touting their ability to blow up mountains. I don't know who this Pride of Gnomeregan is, but I trust gnomes less than I do goblins. There may come a time when the Unseen need information about a rivalry such as this. At least, perhaps I can use it to persuade the goblins of this company to explore profitable options that don't involve blowing up mountains. I'll be sure to keep an eye out for these Flashbang Exports goblins on my adventures, but I will also be sure to wait to subtly force the invisible hand. Getting in a hurry with a direct approach really burnt me last time I tried something like this.

Kragus folded the note up neatly and slid it into his pack while wincing about the time he tried to convince the goblins of the Coldsteel Company to pursue more environmentally friendly markets. He rubbed his fingers across the upper part of what should have been his thick sideburn on the right and instead felt stubble. It still hadn't grown back since the duct tape.