People could say whatever they wanted about the engineering shop in Dalaran - it was noisy, the signage was a distraction, people didn’t trust the goblins that ran it to not blow a hole in the city’s floating landmass, whatever. If you were an engineer, however, it was the place to be - collaboration and debate was common, and more often than not, any non-engineer who entered could have their problems looked at by a half-dozen minds just as sharp as the primary proprietors, who were fine to let people do the work for them (as long as they got a cut for facility fees, supervision fees, a fee to assess the aforementioned fees...).
Lately, if he was not at the Caverns of Time or Wyrmrest Temple and was not on Argus itself, Rilgon Arcsinh found himself gravitating towards his fellow engineers; minds that, like him, found these low-key rumors of tension growing between the factions tiring. With so many things trying to kill and eat them all and so much knowledge and sweet explosive devices to be born from collaboration, most engineers found the faction war to be, at best, a vessel for profit, and at worst, a huge waste of everyone’s time.
And that is why he found himself at a table in the Dalaran engineer’s shop when a goblin walked through the door, looking like she had business.
( @minimagics )
