Just a quick little writing that I thought I wanted to share for The War Within, new lands, means more greed
The Greed Within
By Jeremy S. Lochton
Crooked yellow teeth bit down on his bottom lip, as his small green greasy hands clambered to the rough stone frame, boots scratching along the surface, trying to find a foothold for his worn down boots, his green toes wiggling inside as he tensed up for every drag. The Goblins are used to traversing obstacles big, as well as small, for the right chance of profit, and this genius had found the motherload on the Isle of Dorn.
Keen purple eyes squinted in the sunlight as he finally hauled his sweaty pudgy being up along the coarse rocky surface. He could feel the excitement as he came to level with the treasures he had spotted, almost falling off his perch as he was thrilled to see that there were more than he had spotted.
With a gleeful chuckle, he fumbled around at a strap on his leather belt, pulling free his prying tool. Not really a prying tool, but it was perfect for this specific job, it was more of a very expensive dagger. He had won it in a game of dice in Dalaran, its blade was supposedly enchanted with something to keep it sharp, the surface catching the sunlight in a flash as he, with chubby yet skilful fingers, swung the dagger around a few times, the polished blade making a minor light show.
“Oh… They gonna pay out a buncha moolah for these babies,” the Goblin talked to himself, his voice like gravel in an engine.
The polished tip of the dagger was ruthlessly stabbed at the edge of the eye socket, grinding along what looked like a seam, trying to pry loose the valuable stones with force. The reflection of the stone could be seen in the dagger’s polished steel, as the dagger could be seen in the cloudy gem’s surface as the tip grated into the stone, chipping away at it before popping loose another gem.
“Haha, sweet… This is too easy, Ripple!” he spoke out in glee, his gravelly voice letting go of a little squeal in excitement.
His grubby fingers manhandled the valuable gems as if they were toys, making sure to inspect them, being sure they would look good for resale. A little cloudy, they could still be polished up to look lucrative. He grinned wide, a mix of yellowed and golden teeth were on full display in his maw. He crudely shoved the stone into his big belt pouch, joining a large selection of gems, hundreds of stones clinking together.
Ripple leapt from his perch, trying to be as graceful as he could be sliding down the stone statue, his gear got snatched on various details, even breaking off a finger from this one. He was going to complain anyways?
With some strain, he took in a deep breath of fresh air, his lungs rattling as he struggled to keep in the clean air before he sputtered out in a massive coughing fit, trying to cover it with his sleeve. His purple eyes turned towards the inert Earthern statue as he offered a mocking salute.
“See ye around, bub. Nice doin’ business with ye…”
Ripple grabbed on to the leather strap of his trusted weapon, B.L.A.S.T, dragging it down the brick pathway, his belt pouch holding back the muffled clinking sound of gems as he passed multiple inert Eartherns, their eye sockets now hollow and dark, and deep empty pocks in the surface of their bodies.
“Dumb Dwarves makin’ these statues have gems… Oh well, more moolah for me!”
He laughed out as his stumpy legs guided him between the fresh redecorated landscape, swaying between small craters and shattered Earthern guards, their bodies unable to withstand the brutal explosive force of his weapon. He might’ve gone a little over the top with using B.L.A.S.T, which was an acronym for, ‘Ballistic Launching Assault System with Tremors’, ammunition wasn’t cheap but gold was not going to be an issue soon.
Once covered in lush foliage, trees, and green healthy grass, the memorial site had now been decorated with a large selection of minor craters, and additional inert Eartherns, though a bit more shattered than the ones posing on the plinths. There were still more gems - and he was quite certain that he could fit more in his pouch.
“Ain’ gonna risk my luck… But… Gon’ take three more?” he pondered out loud, discarding B.L.A.S.T against a vacant plinth before making another grab on the neighboring inert statue.
Before the stubby little Goblin could clamber high enough up the statue, his footfold fighting to get a hold on this one, he was approached by two humans, one in full armor, and another, in a suit? Ripple was left hanging at the crotch of the bulky stone figure.
“Hello there. I am obligated to request you to cease your actions, sir,”
The man in the suit spoke in a calm tone as he adjusted his sleeves with a quick snap, green eyes behind his glasses. Strapped over his torso was a leather harness adorned with a variation of pouches, and devices, Ripple was almost certain that he could count at least three grenades on him.
“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, suit-man?”
The little auburn haired man frowned, adjusting his round glasses before consulting with his travelling companion, a Dalaran Sentry, worse for wear than he was. Her armor was damaged, dented, and mismatched with other repair jobs.
“I am Jeremy S. Lochton, Director of Alliance Salvaging And Procurement,” he spoke out with an annoyed sneer, “I have been requested to investigate what might be in my area of expertise. The young woman informed me of some reflections from here, and thought it might have been some malfunctioning machinery - but just you?”
Ripple snorted out, feeling a little insulted by the man’s approach. He let go of the statue, dropping to the ground, squashing the hopes of a blue flower that was reaching for the rays of light, “Yeah, ‘Just’ me, what off it?”
“I am unsure if you have been informed of the arrival of Alliance, and Horde reinforcements to assist at the Isle of Dorn?”
The Director pulled out what looked to be a black notebook, flipping through multiple pages with his manicured fingers, mentioning various project deployments on Dorn, listing up a few reasons of why the Goblin should most likely disperse before issues evolve further.
“So what?” Ripple blurted out angrily, “They all gon’ be occupied to notice lil’ ol’ Ripple.”
Both Ripple and the Dalaran Sentry jolted in surprise, as Lochton slammed shut his black notebook with one hand. The sound of the closing pages were merely a whisper compared to the dissipating echo of the loud crack roaring through the air. Ripple’s eyes went wide, as his whole body froze up, his final stare locked on to the Director with disbelief, the Sentry’s stare was upon the Goblin, confused at the loud sound as she could not see any firearms on him.
“Wha-what was that, sir?”, the Dalaran Sentry stuttered out confused.
Her hand had instinctively grabbed the hilt of her sword, knuckles whitening as she was anticipating an ambush by more Goblins, eyes peering around, ready for combat. Her attention was shaky. Confused, she looked towards the civilian. She had escorted him here, so he was her responsibility. He offered a courteous nod as he lowered his barrelled firearm.
Her blue eyes went wide before looking back at Ripple’s body in shock, the helm visor hiding her facial expression as she witnessed the greasy Goblin falling backwards to the ground with a loud thump, the hoard of gems spilling out from his pouch, his green pudgy body twitching.
“A solution for a problem the Isle of Dorn is going to experience as more arrive, as well as a solution for me, reducing competition.”
The Sentry was speechless behind her visor at his cold reply, her blue eyes darting around confused at what had happened. Staring down at the body, then at the little man, then at the Earthern debris, and back at the Gilnean. Did he just shoot the Goblin without a warning, or even attempt to capture him?
Jeremy offered her a polite smile from below his mustache as he passed her side in a direct stride towards the body of the Goblin, each leather clad step crossing carefully through the debris of fallen Earthern, sliding his firearm back into its holster.
“G-Good idea, sir,” the Sentry managed to speak up, trying to keep up with what had just happened here, “We should return them to the Earthern caretakers.”
Lochton had crouched down near the body of the dead Goblin, collecting every stone with his gloved fingers, handling them with professional care, but he did not stop there. With ease, he inspected the Goblins other pouches, as well as backpack, with a little struggle having to roll him over, making sure that nothing of value was left behind - gaining the disappointed stare of the Sentry, but he would never truly know, as the visor would be hiding her face.
As he held one of the gems up towards the light, he inspected with keen green eyes as he held it pinched between his index finger and thumb.
“I am quite certain that someone would be generous enough to reward us for procuring these fascinating stones,” he spoke out, captured in curiosity, “…perhaps.”
The Dalaran Sentry quickly picked up on his tone and turned towards him, her armor clanking as she walked towards him, “No ‘perhaps’, sir, I am certain that the Earthens would be gladly rewarding you something for bridging them back… “
The final gem was carefully packed away into the pouch as Lochton looked up, “Of course, the Earthern. Certainly,” he managed to speak out, bringing himself out of his trail of thoughts.