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Gathered around a large office table, a board meeting of executives from the Venture Company discusses the details of Undermine's restoration project. Men and women dressed to the nines in exotic fabrics and animal hides laugh and share drinks, save for Coalition Executive Humbolt Greasepalm who has taken his Kaja On-the-Rocks to the overlook of the lounge. Sprawled out before the goblin was the hustle and bustle of streetlights and cars below. As he takes another deep drink of his cocktail, he lets out a sigh. It had been roughly a year since the Liberation and even shorter that he had climbed the corporate ladder to where he was now. Glancing over to his intern Gilly, he tumbled the frozen diamonds in his glass expectantly; the assistant scampers off to the bar, fumbling through dozens of bottles before returning with a refresher.
"Gee Mista Greasepalm! Ya sure know how to knock 'em back!" She praised her boss with rehearsed affirmations. He took another swig of his poison before jingling the glass again for more.
"It's a big day Gilly. We got a VIP showin' up today. Old money. Been on the board since it was founded."
A sudden buzzing came from the intercom above head.
"Pardon th' intrusion, but our final board memba' is he'ah!"
Humbolt's eyes widened at the announcement as a commotion broke out. He hushed his assistant away to go tend to the bar. Returning to his seat, he slicks back the hairs on his thinning scalp with an extra dollop of grease and neatens his old necktie several times in nervous anticipation. Several board members clamor in hushed tones, spritzing their breathes and puffing away at cigars and pipes. A heavy knock on the sheet metal door rang out before opening. A pair of hobgoblins in ill-fitting suits and comically small sunglasses darkened the interior as they held the door open for the final executive to join the group. A small older woman entered the office; hair faded to a dull lavender and styled in a manner unseen since the early days of Undermine and a pair of darkened pinch-nez shades hid her eyes from the onlookers. Beside the elderly lady followed a large shaggy creature far too husky to be one of the common hyena of Undermine. Walking up to an empty chair, she stops beside it, hands folded over her lap as she stands sternly in waiting. An awkward moment before she clears her throat and suddenly Gilly takes the hint to pull out the seat for the woman.
"Damned decent of ya to show me some respect..."
The flustered assistant dipped her head in apology and baffled out what sounded like "imsorrywouldyoulikesomethingtodrink?!"
"Cruix d'Kezan, decanted, chilled with ice but no ice in it, served neat in a crystal coupe."
The poor intern looked mortified at the request, unsure of what that meant, but ran off to the bar to try to satisfy her order.
"Well... Since the board is all here, we should get all acquainted-like. Lots of new mugs around here, so I don't expect any of yous to know who each other is." Humbolt sends the brutes away with a dismissing wave of his bejeweled hand and straightens his jacket. "I'm Coalition Executive Humbolt Greasepalm, head of the Undermine Restoration Committee, Venture Company Representative. Relatively new to this position; my former employer met an untimely termination during the Liberation, as I'm sure is the case for many of my fellow executives here." A weak laugh escaped his lips, followed by those of a few other goblins at the table. Gesturing to his right, a man of well-fed proportions wearing a Westfall-fashioned suit, bollo tie, and matching tall-brimmed hat reclined in his seat.
"Well, much obliged there pardner! Trex "Big Buck" Cattledrive, Executive Cowpoke of the Mulgore Operations & Negotiations. If ya ain't had a Kodo steak or Tallstrider leg that'll make ya smack ya mama, then ya ain't had one of our ethically cannoned meats yet!" The portly goblin aims his pudgy fingers and mimics two pistols shooting to several members across the room, followed by noises resembling gunshots.
Next was a meek man with a hunched back and a sneering smile; one could mistake him for a kobold if only he would wear a candle upon his balding scalp. "Balki Brassbombs, Executive Foreman of Stonetalon Mountains Operations of Lumbering, Strip Mining, and Game Warden. Legally-permitted under Goblin Law, subsection 22, line 57 of "Claimstaking & Fracking Guidelines, version 5 of the Horde-Alliance Treaty Negotiations act of..."
"Uh... y-yeah, we getcha Balki! Y'don't gotta give us the whole rundown of the lawbook" says Humbolt.
The rattish man suckles at his buck teeth in a coy grin before turning to the only other woman executive beside him. His bulging eyes ogle the woman a moment before she scoots herself away in disgust.
"Bellatrixie Gemcutter, Executive Ventures Liasson & Tourism, Stranglethorn Operations. Successfully charted luxury cruises around The Vortex and implemented the "Beached Threshadon Explosion Viewing" activities. Works as both a spectacle and a way to clean up the beaches!" The blonde goblin scrunched up her pepper-like nose in a wrinkled grin, apparently proud of her own clever business venture.
"Roddy Ripsaw, Executive Foreman of Logging Operations in Grizzly Hills. Nothing much to talk about there. Just tons of trees. And bears. Some of them talk too. About the trees." The gruff man kicked back in his chair, resting a muddy boot on the desk while flicking a toothpick around in his mouth, arms akimbo.
The man beside Roddy took another sip of his thermos, hands jittering as he tried for a full minute to put down the metal cup. Bloodshot eyes darted around to all the other goblins in a twitchy panic, trying to focus on his presentation next.
"J-j-j-j-ava R-r-r-r-oasttttttt-b-b-beannnn!!! Exx—x-x-x-" the man sputters out hectically as he fidgets in his chair before Humbolt intervenes.
"Java Roastbean, Executive Overseer of Sholazar Operations." He flips through his clipboard reading off the goblin's resume. "Kafa Growers Venture, Wholesale Producer, Connoisseur, and R&D. Seems here that the Kafa bean grows incredibly well in the fertile soils of the Basin?"
"Y E S !" Blurts out Java as he knocks over his thermos, the bottle clanging and spinning around on the table before two other executives reach out to grand the bottle and take it away from him.
Glancing up from the brim of his tricorn, a debonair man of lithe build nods to the group with a polite greeting. "Erol the Rumrunner, Executive Corsair of Kul Tiras Operations. Business ventures have slowed down since The Fourth War, so we've expanded our operations to deepwater trawling and 'trade goods reacquisitions' when necessary~" He gives a wink and a nod to the group, knowing that the other members knew full well the legal jargon being used.
Finally, the whole board gathered turned to the last member gathered. Everyone gathered was familiar with all present operations across Azeroth, leaving the elderly woman's position a mystery to the executives.
Suddenly, Gilly quietly walks up to the older executive and hands her a glass of perfectly chilled port wine, distilled from the once local Kola nut of Kezan and fortified with Kaja'mite. The lady looks to the assistant with some approval and a nod.
"Ya did good kid."
Gilly beams happily at the appreciation before making herself scarce once more. The elder takes a sip of her drink and sighs deeply. Fumbling around in her purse, she searches for something, much to the annoyance of Humbolt.
"Uh... Ms. Coppergleam?"
"Hold on, I want my smokes." She continues to search around in the oversized Zhevra-hide bag for her fix. Taking out several items, she places them out onto the table; an engraved silver lighter, a powder case and hand mirror, a packet of tissues and a stick of half-opened chewing gum.
"We can offer ya a very nice stogie, Ms. Natash Coppergleam, but we really need to get this meeting underway..."
"Oh, that ain't my name, pal." The woman said casually as she pulls out an impressively large and rather lethal revolver onto the table.
The board begins to murmur amongst themselves in growing concern as the woman finally produces an ebony cigarette holder and a pack of vanilla-scented cigarillos.
"W-what?" Humbolt looked to her in irritation now. "The heck ya mean by that? Who are ya then?!"
Affixing one of the cigarillos to the end of the holder, she bites down on the bit before answering.
"Lady Jezzybelle Von Bomberg to you pups~" she barked in pride through clenched teeth. Erol to her side immediately realized that name and moved to offer her a light for her smoke, followed by Trex across the table. Glasses and agendas pushed aside as the two goblin fought over lighting her cigarette.
Humbolt looked at the two men crawling around the table in confusion. His irritation turned to outright contempt for the old woman now.
"Alright, jokes over dame. Funny gas, but ya ain't Lady Bomberg. Old bitch has been dead since the Second War, and even if ya was her, that old biddy ain't worth two coppers."
A raise of her brow and puff from her smoke was all the amusement she would afford him. She raised her hand up and fidgeted with a ring on her finger for a moment.
"Now, this here meeting is for Venture Co. Executives only, so please remove yaself from this meeting or I'll have ya tossed out with ya cheap bag and fleabag mutt."
Her hound growled defensively beside his master. The woman then removes her ring and tosses it across the table towards Humbolt. He picks up the ring and inspects it unenthusiastically.
"Lady, I don't want ya tin junk ring..."
Turning the amethyst ring over in his hands, he notices some weathered etchings on the tarnished silver inner band. The official seal of Trade Prince Steamwheedle from the Second War was imprinted under the crown. Along the outer band was old gold filigree reading "Baroness Jezzybelle Von Bomberg, nee Highwind". Dropping the ring in shock, he tries to reassure himself.
"I-I mean... it's a convincing fake... Anyone coulda forged that..."
The room grew deathly quiet until Jezzybelle chuckled softly. Picking up her big iron, she opens the chamber to inspect all six rounds loaded; silver finish glinting in the lamplight overhead.
"I didn't just... insult the..."
"The founder? Naw... I mean, I was on the original board back in the Second War, but that was more of security investment in case things didn't go our way." She flashed her violet eyes over her shades to the sweaty goblin and snickered. "Kinda like how things are goin' for ya right now~"
"I... I am so sorry Mrs. Von Bomberg, I..."
"Pfft, naw, that's alright. I ain't gonna kill ya hun~" She chuckled and clicked the revolver shut before putting it back down on the table.
Humbolt let out a relieved sigh and straightened up his tie, letting out a nervous laugh.
"Roofus, eat Mista Greasepalm's legs."
Within an instant, her hound bounds over the table and begins to maul the goblin's legs as he shrieked in horror and agony behind the desk. The whole room erupts into chaos and screams before the sound of two shots ring out in the air.
"Sit ya asses down! We got a board meeting to get started here!"
Slowly the screaming died down and only the ravaging growls and snarling of the Bakar continued.
Turning in her plush leather chair, Jezzybelle gestured with her cigarette holder to the assistant to come over. The trembling woman approached silently, trying not to look down at her former boss on the floor.
"Y-y-yes Mrs. Von Bomberg?..."
"What's ya name hun?" Jezzy spoke to the intern softly.
"Gilly Silverlode...."
"Well Ms. Silverlode, looks like we got a vacant seat at the table. Would you like Mr. Greasepalm's position in the company?"
Glancing down to the motionless body on the ground, she looks back to the woman and nodded slowly.
"Welcome to the board! Oh, and please have the janitor come in here and remove Mr. Greasepalm from the premises."
