#whygoblins

[withlovefromazeroth-blog]

...enjoying your nap there, buddy? *poke*

(I cured his poison like 5 hours ago)

I’d say he’s milking it but I ALREADY DID - SO MANY ANTIDOTES

[withlovefromazeroth-blog]

For a moment, I considered getting out of Silithus and checking the Warboard in Orgrimmar. Place was buggin’ me. 

This is where I find myself. Gobbo town. Dripping oil balloons and all.

AT WHAT POINT IS THIS STOCKHOLM SYNDROME

[withlovefromazeroth-blog]

There is a part of me that says there must be an easier way to gather a particularly sticky resin from this jungle.

One that doesn’t involve literally scraping congealed tar from the bodies of swampy tar monsters. It’s not like they bend over and volunteer.

JUST SAYIN’, GOBLINS 

WHY DO I WORK WITH YOU

[withlovefromazeroth-blog]

This is Snizzle. He wants to build himself an aircraft, using dino wings, to get out of the crater. Because giant angry dinos that LITERALLY SCARE ME AWAY are TOTALLY LESS HORRIFYING than trained horde windriders.

He could just flap those ears and sail off. SAVE ME TIME 

[withlovefromazeroth-blog]

....This.

[withlovefromazeroth-blog]

I landed a job with a goblin, who wanted me to harvest some of the local animals and loaned me the use of his special new robot. 

Meet Butcherbot! An actual robotic nightmare. 

...

See the problem with stuff like this, in the name of some goblin’s profit and efficiency, means the actual death and use of the creature is rendered indecent. Obscene. There is no respect here, nor gratitude. Just greed. 

The druids would have a stroke.

I may write them a letter.