Fuselight was quiet for this time of day, as the bright Badland's sun had finally sunk below the peaks, allowing the twinkling of stars to peek through the dusty, red haze of the fading heat. Fidjit, as usual, was staring through his facility's telescope, glassing the distant passes leading into Loch Modan, and watching for the return of his beverage-hauling caravan. It was now a week over due and he was QUITE annoyed.
Unfortunately, because it was past the afternoon shift, he only had his assistant Fozzle to yell at, and that wasn't any fun these days, as the Goblin was as severe a yes man as there was. But he did it anyway.
"FOZZLE!" he bellowed from the elevated industrial chair that gave him access to the eyepiece of the telescope. It was tall for even a Goblin, and this place had been built by own his people. "Where da fel's my caravan? Dat bunch was due back a week ago." He twisted a knob, which created a static screech. "You go tell Frank deys gonna be fel to pay, see? I ain't payin him to lose my drinks." He paused, as normally Fozzle would have dashed up in a panic, bowing a scraping for forgiveness. Instead, there was only silence. He turned. "Fozzle?"
The room was empty, and the desk where his assistant SHOULD have been brewing up a new batch of elixir for the Pond Frog Pilsner? It sat unoccupied. "Of all da times... Hey, BRUISAH!"
The arched wooden door leading to the exterior of the domed, adobe building creaked open, and a large bulbous head peeked in. "Yea, Boss?" the bruiser said, his voice deep and dumb. "You need somethin?"
"Do I need somethin," Fidjit mumbled, shaking his head. "I'd not waste my breats yellin for yaz if I didn't! Where da fel's -"
"Heah, Boss," Fozzle said, panting and running through the open door as if chased by a Stormwind City Guard. "I got some infamation youz gotta see."
"Found him," the Bruiser said, pointing at Fozzle's back now that the assistant had made his way to the elevated platform where Fidjit held court.
"Get outta heah!" Fidjit said, waving the goon away from the door, which closed with a quiet, oaken bang. "Where ya been, Fozzle? My shipments been gone for ovah a week, see?" Fozzle nodded the comment away while digging a crumpled scrap of parchment from his pocket. "Yea, yea, Boss," he said. "We'z on it." Unfolding the scrap, he offered it to Fidjit. "Dis is more important, I tink."
"You think?" Fidjit said, snatching the paper away from Fozzle and glaring at his assistant. "What is dis, an invoice of some sort?" Fozzle shook his head as Fidjit read the report.
"No, Boss," he said. "I just got dat from one uh da Lotus. Seems deys a monstah on da loose in Trisfal thats got the Dead all runnin' scared. Word is, Boss, da Undahcity's all hidin' an jumpin' in dat green goo they got runnin' round the city. Cogzie saw em doin' it, right as rain." He pointed at the letter Fidjit was reading. "It's all dere, Boss. Read it yaself."
Fidjit scratched his ear, then dug a yellowish ball of goo from within using a fingernail. It was in his mouth a moment later. Then he grinned. "Dats amazin'," he said, grinning at Fozzle. "Some howlin' wolf sent em scurryin like rats on a sinkin ship?" He shook his head. "What do ya make of it?" Fozzle shrugged.
"Hard ta say, Boss," he said. "But I know one thing, and dats the Dead ain't scared uh nutin." Fidjit frowned and nodded.
"Right," he said, then giggled in the way that only a Goblin can. "What if it's a ginormous demon dog come to get it's bones back?" Fozzle paused, trying to asses if his Boss was serious. Then, he, too, burst into giggles. "If I was Forsaken, dat'd scare me, Boss."
"Say, Fozzle, I just hada thought," Fidjit said, cocking his head and scrunching his face. It was a look he'd once seen in a Coba Cola ad about ideas, and he felt it helped him think if he mimicked the action. "If that howlin' monstah can scare the Dead like dat, what would it do to Dwarves, or Humans ya think?" Fozzle was taken aback.
"Boss?" he said. "Whatcha got in mind?"
"Exortion," Fidjit said, grinning like he'd been given a bag of gold for free. "What if dat thing worked for us, pal?" Fozzle grinned almost as wide as his boss, though not quite. He knew his place, after all.
"We'd make a killin'!" Fidjit's head bobbed in agreement.
"Gathah tha Company," he said. "We got some plannin' ta do!"