How to Make Friends & Blow $@#% Up

[Kiffles]

How to Make Friends & Blow $@#% Up

- A Josie Twinkleblast Story -

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This thread will be reserved to tell of the chronological events in the life of Jehosephine "Josie" Twinkleblast, a gnomish demolitionist and sapper. The events portrayed span the time between a year after Gnomeregan's untimely fall and the point at which she completes her training. Some material may not be suited for younger readers, including coarse language and adult situations, so I'm putting a NSFW on this. As always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated, and I hope you all enjoy this little adventure into Josie's past.

---

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- Chapter 1 -
Dream A Little Dream

"Yo."

"Huh?"

"I said, you listenin'? I guess that answers the question, though."

"S-sorry...just tired."

"Yeah, well...get un-tired. You probably didn't even hear the shit I was sayin' 'bout hot wiring, did'ja?"

"No...sorry."

A boiler room was a shitty place to get a lecture no matter how you sliced it. Even so, there she sat, "listening" to the Gnome in front of her as he leaned against a crate and smoked one form of chemical or another. He ruffled his grimy, dwarven dreadlocks and nibbled at the end of the cig in the corner of his mouth.

"I was saying that you can re-wire bombs as easy as detonating 'em. The easiest way is usually snippin' the red wire. You know what the red wire does by now, don't'cha, Jo?"

She was tired, and the fumes were getting to her, making it hard to concentrate. Hell, for all she knew, he could've just been spouting drug-induced bullcrap. Still the blonde-haired gnome listened, and nodded.

"In a basic time bomb it hooks the, uh...the detonator to the battery. Sometimes it isn't even red at all. Just takes a delicate touch, 'cuz the detonator is an explosive in itself..." A yawn. "...Right?"

"Exactly."

Josie grinned to herself. She wasn't stupid in this line of work at all, really. In fact, it was rather fascinating. Dangerous. Gets the adrenaline pumping when you know that you're handling something that could very well end your life at any minute. Such are the cheap thrills of adolescence, when one is at the height of believing they are invincible. Besides that, it had been her uncle's idea, really. The man had taught Josie throughout her little lifetime how to work with explosives, how to set off big boomers and dazzling fireworks and how to do it with style.

The young man stood straight and gave a stretch, "I think that's enough for today. Wanna hit the bar? I'll buy you a...whatever the f**k it was. Rusty Tire."

Second-hand fumes. Alcohol. Sounded fun enough, but being in cramped, sweltering conditions for so long had left her head aching.

"N'aw, I don't need a Tire tonight. Might just head upstairs and get some sleep..."

"Well aren't you a little do-gooder. Get you to go out once, you puke all over my boots and that's the end of that?"

"Just my head. It's hurting something awful."

"Fine, fine." He stomped his rolled cigarette out beneath a steel-toed boot and stuffed his hands in his pockets, "You should pay more attention, though. You only got a couple days before you head out to the Bay, an' I'd hate to see some greenie rollin' pieces of you back home in a wheelbarrow. Those bastards are crazy, but they don't mess around."

"I know," Josie said, rubbing at the back of her neck. She really didn't, though. She'd never personally met a goblin, and in some ways she'd been hoping it would stay that way. It was inevitable to come into contact with at least a handful in her line of studies, though. And what luck, her dreadlocked, cig-smoking friend had some connections in Booty Bay with some choice sappers and demolitionists. At least, so he said.

Goodnights exchanged, the young woman made her way to the closet-sized nook she liked to call her sleeping quarters. It wasn't nearly big or cozy enough to be a room, but it had a bed and a window, and several miscellaneous doodads next to the light on her bedside table. Jo' sat on the side of her bed and kicked off her boots, letting out a tired sigh. The sunset over Stormwind's dwarven district was quickly fleeting.

She would've liked to have been a part of the night life, but there would be plenty of time for it after she got her demolition license. It was something she'd grown fond of - the eccentricity of the people, the smell of alcohol in a dimly-lit tavern, the cool slang and the piercings and the mechanohogs. Maybe someday she'd be as cool as all of them, a stick of dynamite in her back pocket and a defiant grin to red-tinted lips. At least for now, she could dream. The tired gnomette flopped backwards on the bed, yawning.

Tomorrow, she'd pack.

[Kiffles]

- Chapter 2 -
Caravan

This caravan ride is making me fucking sick. How the fel do people live all the way out here? It's so hot out. Cogs, is that a boar carcass? That's disgusting. Ugh, I'm thirsty. I should've packed a waterskin.

Are we there yet?

It had felt like years since the caravan that Josie had hitched a ride on had left Stormwind. At least, finally, it had made its way through Elwynn Forest and to the barren plains of Westfall. Aside from the driver, the company was slim, but pleasant. Three humans and a dwarf, and she the only gnome. At least they all made entertaining conversation when the crew had to stop for the night and set up camp. Pleasantries aside, Josie disliked traveling long distances. The days dragged on and left her with naught but her mind as company.

"We're coming up on Sentinel Hill, everyone! Get your stuff around."

The clarion call of the driver from farther forward snapped Josie from her train of thought. Lucky for her, she had naught but a rucksack to sling over her shoulders and a matchstick behind her ear. She didn't figure she needed much else.

Her friend in Stormwind had mentioned boats that traveled the river channel from Westfall down into Stranglethorn, and to the port of Booty Bay. Fisherman, mostly, but they were a relatively honest bunch that would take anyone who needed a lift with a little bit of coin.

- - -

"I ain't gonna believe that you could turn a fish into a bomb."

"Not turning the fish itself into a bomb, per se, but you could use some of the components of the fish to get a decent explosion. The same goes for some plants. Highly flammable."

This was getting grueling.

"Heheh. Well, I only catch 'em, little lady. I don't try to blow things up with 'em."

I'm sure you don't, you cotton-headed ninnymuggins.

Josie felt like a shrub in a forest of trees. Most of the time she didn't mind it, but people who were tall and stupid rubbed her the wrong way. Nice enough to lend her a trip on their boat, but not quite up to the task of talking chemical compounds or what things out in the wilderness could be flammable. At least they would reach the Bay by the late afternoon.

"You're sure gonna fit in with the natives jus' fine. They're all crazy about that new technology."

"Uh-hm." The torture of the trip was almost enough to have made her forget where she was heading, and why she was heading there.

She peered over the port side of the ship. Speaking of fish, she thought, I feel like one out of water. She wasn't used to the warm climates, the sandy beaches, the greenery, the odd people. On top of that, she was sure she could use a bath.

"...Excuse me. Sir?"

"Eh?"

"Who are they?"

The middle-aged fisherman she'd been debating with previously walked over to join her, leaning out a bit and squinting at several individuals who were littering the coastline. He gave a knowing grin.

"Those are a bunch'a hoodlums who scour the beaches for scrap metal an' other things ta sell over in the Bay," he replied. "Scavengers."

The lot of them looked to be goblins, but the large backpacks they toted almost gave them the appearance of hunched beasts, garbing gizmos and gadgets to protect their towering backs from predators. Josie watched them for a time.

Sure enough, the boat made it to the bustling port of Booty Bay before evening fell. Jo' thanked her traveling companions and, with wobbly sea-legs, stepped onto the boardwalk. Tired, hungry and smelling like a fat trogg, she'd finally made it to her destination. If she'd felt like a fish out of water before, standing in a port run by goblins that welcomed all walks of life made her feel as if she'd been skinned, gutted and thrown on an open flame. She even gaped as she looked up at the bustling city, establishments and huts littering the cove. She was only snapped to her senses by someone bumping into her, nearly pushing her over the pier.

"Right. Let's see," she muttered to herself, milling along as she pulled a folded parchment from her pocket. "Upper left district...Cracklewix's Pyrotechnics Emporium." Quite a mouthful. She expected the place to be a large building that blasted off fireworks every hour and boasted streamers from every window. It took her a while to actually find the place, having to stop once to ask a rather unsavory looking she-goblin with a cigar and a missing eye.

It...was just a ramshackle old bodega. Or at least that's what it looked like from the outside. Swallowing hard, the gnomette opened the door and poked her head inside. At least whoever ran the place would be expecting her.

"H-...Hello?"

No answer. Josie scooted in and closed the door behind her.

"Hello? Eh...I'm here for the apprenticeship...? Philonious Dawdlefuse sent me--"

The sound of tumbling boxes sounded from below the floorboards. Puzzled, she looked around. Hidden amongst the fireworks, bombs and barrels of gunpowder, there was a descending staircase, situated in a far corner. Cautiously, she made her way over to it and stepped down. The small basement below smelled even more of saltwater and sulfur than the main room had. It was littered with crates, some open, some still awaiting a crowbar. Nestled behind them was a large workbench, the process of creating several sticks of dynamite appearing to have been halted for the time being. The room itself was dimly lit by a few phlogiston lamps hanging from the ceiling. Just enough so that someone could see what they were doing.

"Hey. Kid."

Josie looked up, squinting from behind her goggles. Squatting above on a pair of stacked crates was a goblin of obviously questionable values. His brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail and his dark skin looked abrasive, as if he'd been out in the sun too long and had taken on the consistency of sandpaper. He flicked his chin at her. The long, beaded earring that hung from one of his large ears clacked with the movement.

"You Jehosephine?"

"Eh...Josie, yeah."

The goblin grinned from his perch upon the crate, a gold tooth catching the muted light. He held out a hand, calloused and rough as his voice, "Mazmath Cracklewix. And your in the right place."

[Kiffles]

- Chapter 3 -
With A Little Help From My Friends

A few days after sailing into Booty Bay, and Josie was already thinking that it had been a bad idea. Kind as Mazmath Cracklewix had been to put her up for free as a favor to his "associate" in Stormwind (and by putting her up, supposedly that meant she'd sleep in a rickety hammock in the basement) it was feeling as if he was just toying with her. Instead of learning about how to make bigger bombs, he was just having her deliver orders around the port. It was tedious, it was tiresome, and it was making her brain feel like unused mush.

It was on a rainy afternoon that she finally decided to speak her mind. No goblin was going to use her as a simple delivery girl.

"Mister Cracklewix?"

The goblin sat at his workbench, toiling away on what looked to be some sort of time bomb. "Ah-hah."

"I'm...entirely flattered that you're letting me stay here and all, but...I thought I was gonna be working on, y'know...bombs and stuff."

"Ah-hah."

"It's just that -- and don't take this the wrong way -- I didn't come here to deliver stuff around the bay, I came here to learn about explosives."

Mazmath paused in his work. He turned on his swiveling stool to peer at the blonde gnome.

"If ya don't wanna learn about how to get around the Bay by deliverin' stuff, then I guess I can just have you stay here and do inventory."

"O-Oh! Well, I can...keep delivering stuff, I guess," she muttered. True, she didn't like the idea of getting lost in a place she knew nothing of.

"Good," the goblin replied, setting back to his work. "As for the explosives, you'll get plenty of time to work on them. I got a few people you have to meet, first. My 'crew,' I guess you could say."

Josie didn't like the thought of a goblin's "crew." She just nodded. "When am I gonna end up meeting them?"

"Later tonight. We'll swing by the Salty Sailor and have a drink with 'em and discuss what sort of stuff we'll be teachin' you."

Somehow, the way his tone rolled off that sentence made Josie think he was under the impression that all the gnomish demolition methods she'd learned up to that point were pure bullshit. She bit her tongue, though, and merely nodded again.

"Oh, yeah. You got any different clothes? The Sailor's not really the place to look like...whatever this is." Mazmath gestured loosely to just about all of Josie. Her overalls and the neat pink shirt beneath them, with simple boots, did make her look a bit humble and plain. Her hair was cut much too neatly, and only kept back by a hairband.

"These...these are basically the only clothes I brought. I have a sleeveless shirt and another pair of pants, but..."

The goblin gave her a dismissive flick of his hand, "The girls can take you out shoppin' at some point, then. You're gonna get eaten alive if you keep dressin' like the High Tinker's daughter."

Josie's expression grew cold. She was starting to not like all of this picking on.

"Don't you have a shipment ta deliver?"

"I'm-...I don't-..." She let out a heavy sigh, shoulders settling. "...Yes, sir."

- - - - -

The evening seemed to be an even busier time in Booty Bay than when the sun was out. It garnered a more unsettling air as well, which was the reason that Josie tagged along so close behind Mazmath as they made their way to the tavern. At one point she flat-tired him, causing him to nearly trip over his own feet. He just blinked at her after catching his balance.

"You afraid of the dark, kid?"

"No! No. Sorry. Just a loose board on the walkway, here."

Mister Cracklewix gave her a knowing grin, "No reason to be scared of the city, you know. We're takin' a perfectly safe route there." He was quiet for a moment, looking around. "...Although if you hear a rifle go off on the level below us, just walk a little faster."

Josie whined. It made him laugh.

"You're such a scaredy-cat! Are you really sure you wanna learn about explosives?"

"Explosives are one thing. Someone firing crazily into the night is something I can't control."

"So it's control, huh?" He mulled the thought over, hands in the pockets of his dirt-scuffed pants. "...Izzit because of what happened down in your city?"

Josie's pacing slowed, until she came to a halt. It was as if something had clicked in her mind. Some little thought had made some little hand had turn on some little switch. It was enough to make her go pale.

"Yo! You coming in? We're here."

The gnomette was snapped from her realization and looked up to the friendly glow of the Salty Sailor tavern. From inside, there was already the sound of merry-making and conversation and song. She followed Mazmath in, but she still couldn't seem to shake that knot in her stomach. The pair made their way up to the second floor, where a whole table full of rag-tag looking characters sat in the far corner, already drinking the night away.

Mazmath strode up and slammed his hands down on the table, grinning. "The fel's going on over here?!"

"Mazzy!" "Heyyy, it's Mazmath!" "The fel are YOU doing, you old fusebox?" "Siddown with us, Mazzy!"

"Actually, I brought along the new kid today. Figured you guys would all wanna meet her at some point."

"New meat, huh? We won't bite too hard, then," said the female goblin in the far corner of the table.

"Mazzy" nudged Jo' a bit closer to the table, "Everyone, this is Josie Twinkleblast. Josie, this is the gang."

Josie wiggled her fingers timidly. "Eheh...hello, gang." She was really hoping she could have a drink, and soon.

- - - - -

As the night went on, the gnomish woman was further introduced to each of the four that had been at the table.

Gidrixx was another goblin, missing an eye and half an ear on one side of his head. He was more of a mechanic than a demolitionist, but he knew his fair share about how to blow something up, as any well-rounded goblin did. He seemed nice for the most part, but it seemed as though he didn't talk much. The others regaled Josie with tales of how he'd once punched a shark in the face. For fun. Whether or not it was true was left up to the listener, because he didn't approve or disprove of it in any fashion.

Sayson was another gnome, although he looked to be a few decades older than Josie herself. Bald, save for big, bushy green eyebrows and a beard-mustache combo. He claimed it was still the hair from his head, he was just wearing it in a new location, now. He and Jo' talked for a time about the dwarven mortar teams back in Ironforge, which seemed to set her a bit more at ease in the crowd.

Mertitza was the lady goblin who had tucked herself away in the far corner of the table. Purple nails, purple hair, and thick purple lipstick. Her skin may have been fair, once, but she'd acquired a decent bit of scarring since she'd taken up pyrotechnics. When she wasn't giving Josie hairstyle and clothing tips, she was bragging about being one of the leaders of the fireworks brigade that set off rockets in the Bay every year for New Years. She also seemed to have acquired the unfortunate nickname of "Titz." At least she lived up to it, with the size of her chest.

Wickey looked to be a gnome about the same age as Josie, perhaps a few years older. She chewed on the end of a cigar as the gang shared stories, her arms folded. She'd lost her leg down in Gnomer, and ended up fashioning herself a new one out of metal. "I'm like a pirate, but ten times more badass," she'd said, kicking the skinny, metallic "peg leg" up onto the table and crossing her other fleshy leg over it.

Conversing with the band of misfits seemed difficult to Josie at first, but as the night progressed, she was laughing and jeering like the rest of them. It was hard for her to believe that she'd have so much in common with such colorful individuals. In a way, perhaps it was something that she'd needed. Little was truly discussed about what she'd actually learn while she was there, but the group planned to take her on a field trip the next afternoon (or the afternoon after that one, if hangovers persisted.) She'd have been lying if she'd said she wasn't starting to grow keen on the idea of staying there and making friends with the lot, learning what they knew and bettering herself in the process.

Finally, Josie Twinkleblest felt as if she was in her element.

[Kiffles]

- Chapter 4 -
Mushroom Goldthorn Hunting

They hadn't been lying when they'd said that they were going to take Josie on a field trip. After sleeping off the booze, the gang left the sweet comfort of Booty Bay to trudge the mucky paths of the Stranglethorn jungle. The rain from the previous day had left everything a muddy mess. At least it was a valid point to shoot off rockets when there was less of a chance to catch other things on fire.

Their hike took roughly an hour, from the city out into the wilderness, to a man-made clearing just beyond the canopy of several rather massive palm trees. Josie dropped her rucksack and flopped down to sit for a spell on a rock.

"Wh-...What are we looking for out here, again...?"

Mazmath shook his head, "You ain't gonna be looking for anything just sitting there, but we're looking for kingsblood and goldthorn. You know what they do, right?"

Wickey raised her hand, "I do."

"Shut up, Wickey."

"Aww..."

"I know what they do," Josie said, pondering over it for a moment. Shit, what did Philonious teach her...? "They're flammable herbs, right?"

"When combined with other ingredients, yep. D'you know what the other ingredients are?"

"Ugh...is this a demolitions lesson, or are you trying to teach me how to pick flowers?"

Mertitza thwacked the gnome girl upside the head lightly, then went back to fixing her dark violet hair into a bun. Josie pouted and rubbed at her head.

"We're teaching you what 'flowers' are good chemical compounds to make up bombs with in a pinch. If you're stranded out here, without your little rucksack, an' your being chased by crazy voodoo trolls or giant raptors, you're gonna wanna protect yourself long enough to get back home," the goblin femme explained. "So. The chemical compounds that react the most violently with kingsblood and goldthorn are firebloom and a fish called the firefin snapper. The former of which you can't get here."

"Luckily, I've brought a heaping bagful of firebloom from my recent excursion to Tanaris!" Sayson chirped, waggling those caterpillar green brows of his as he produced a large pouch from his bag, holding it triumphantly.

"So what we gotta do today," Mazmath said, "Is collect some kingsblood, goldthorn, and fish up some firefins. We're gonna split into groups of two and collect one of each."

"Why don't we make it into a game? First team to get all the ingredients and get back here gets fifty silver from the losing teams. That's twenty-five each," Gidrixx rasped in his hoarse voice.

Mazmath took the other goblin by the collar, shaking him, "Gidrixx, you're a madman! Josie-Jo's only a child on the cusp of her demolitions career! We're tryin' to be good teachers and pass on what we know through wholesome, daily lessons!" He stopped shaking the man. A large grin shook the sarcasm from his voice, "But we know a lot about gamblin' too, so may as well teach that while we teach her about bombs."

"I-I don't have that much mon-"

"Then you can just pay it off as you earn some. No big deal. 'Sides, you might even win, depending on who you get paired up with!"

- - - - -

"...I can't believe you got paired up with Gidrixx."

"Yeah. Sorry, Jo'."

"That's tough, girl."

"What?" Josie suddenly was fearful for her life. "He's-...is he a bad person to be paired up with?" She looked over at Mazzy, pouting, "Can't I go with you?"

"Sorry, kiddo. You picked the short blade of grass. Looks like luck ain't on your side," the golden-toothed goblin replied, lighting up a cigar. "Well, anyway. I and Titz are gonna get the kingsblood. Sayson and Wicky, you guys can get the firefins --"

"Good thing I packed my aquadynamic fish attractor today, then."

"-- and Gidrixx, you take Jo' to find some goldthorn. We'll all meet back here, and winners get twenty-five silver apiece. Let's head out!"

Josie's shoulder's drooped. To be frank, Gidrixx scared her in some ways. Punching a shark was no easy feat, and looking at him in the daylight instead of the dim lamplight of a tavern made him seem more intimidating. He watched the other paired teams head off in opposite directions.

"Idiots are gonna take all damn day," he grumbled to himself, turning to peer at Josie. He rolled up the short sleeves of his white (or what was probably white once, but had long since been stained with several questionable compounds) shirt, "At least they were kind enough to stick us with the hardest fuckin' ingredient to find."

"Is it really that hard to find?"

Gidrixx cracked a knowing grin, "Only if you don't know what you're doing."

- - - - -

"How the f**k, man!?"

Gidrixx and Josie looked up from their perch on the rock in the clearing. Mazmath trudged over, his boots muddied. Mertitza was close behind, a sack swung lazily over her shoulder.

"How the f**k what?"

"How the f**k did you get back here so fast?! You couldn't have gathered goldthorn that fuckin' fa--"

Poor Mazzy probably should've been given a spoon to eat his words with. He gaped like a beached fish as the sack Gidrixx was holding was cast to the other goblin's feet, laying open to reveal a hefty harvest of the spiraling, golden herb.

"Well, shit. I should'a taken Jo' as my searchin' partner," Mertitza muttered to herself.

Josie merely grinned, "You guys shouldn't pick on Gidrixx so much. He's actually a pretty good scavenger. I learned a lot."

"What? Giddy and Josie won the bet?" Wickey squeaked, she and Sayson trudging up the path from the beach. Sayson looked to be completely drenched, and Wicky had several stalks of seaweed stuck in her false leg. At least it looked as if they'd gotten their fair share of firefin snappers in the process.

"Uh-huh, we sure did. So you guys better cough up the fifty silver," the blonde gnomette said with a smirk. "Orrr...just treating us to drinks at the Sailor would be payment enough."

Gidrixx smirked, patting Josie on the head, "I like her. She's a fast learner."


Today's Lessons:
- The good earth can give us many things with which to sate our pyromaniacal tendencies.

- Betting without knowing your adversary is a recipe for disaster.

- It's better to learn how to grow your own secret stash of goldthorn, in the event you get the ass-end of a scavenger hunt.


Today's Progress: Successful.

[Kiffles]

- Chapter 5 -
Take Me Somewhere Nice

The sudden hiss and the grand boom that followed cut through the evening sky like a jagged knife through velvet, an umbrella of embers and smoke billowing in its wake. In turn, the small group on the beach hooted and hollered in their merrymaking. Mazmath secured another makeshift rocket in the sand, pointing outwards over the sea, and of course Mertitza was busy throwing playful digs at him as he did. Sayson and Wicky aided Josie in making a few others, and Gidrixx had perched himself upon a boulder in the sand, enjoying the last of a cigar.

It had been a good day.

When the sun had set and a small bonfire had been fashioned in the wake of the rockets, Josie crept her way across the sand and away from the small group to plunk down beside Gidrixx. He acknowledged her with a small flick of his chin.

"You've been quiet all evening," Josie chirped, "Are you alright?"

"Mmhm. They just wear me out, sometimes," the grisled Goblin said with a grin, "I'm gettin' too old for this shit."

"Really? You don't look so old to me."

"Ain't always a point of age, Jo. Sometimes it's just how you feel."

"I guess I can understand that..."

It was hard to explain, but Jehosephine was already starting to feel as if she were growing somewhat fond of that rag-tag bunch of mischief makers. Granted, more than half of them were Goblins, but they still seemed to treat her with at least a shred of respect. Perhaps it was because she'd gone to visit their territory over her Gnomish brethren to earn her demolitions license. Even she knew that Goblins had a history of talented (if not batshit insane) sappers and demolitionists.

It made her think, though.

On the other hand, these people were not her own - even Sayson and Wicky, who had once walked in the same underground techno-city as she. These were a different breed of people, who thrived off of a far more exciting life than she. They were the people she aspired to being like, so very much. And yet she wondered if such a thing would ever come to be. She wondered if they harbored similar reasons for getting into demolitions, in the first place, and it was something that she highly doubted.

"...You alright? You're the one actin' all distant."

"I-...yeah, just thinking."

"No wonder I smelled smoke."

The blonde Gnomette snorted, "No. Just...uhm. I wouldn't wanna bore you with it. It's stupid."

Gidrixx stared forward, watching the group in the distance char-broil some skimpy fish for dinner. "Try me."

"Well, ah...just thinking about...well, why I got serious with demolitions in the first place."

"You mean besides doin' it because ya like it. You do like it, don't ya?"

"Well yeah, but...well. Mazmath has his theories..."

"Course he does," Gidrixx muttered, "That guy's got a theory for everythin'. Better that you don't listen to him on that sort'a stuff."

"But...I-I'm thinking that he might be right. With this, at least."

"Mm."

"He says that I got serious with all of this because of a control problem. And that the problem's rooted in Gnomeregan. Me not...being able to control that happening, I guess."

"Jo, from what I hear, it wasn't anybody's fault but that scummy advisor'a yer High Tinker's. That shit's so high up on the political chain. No commoners can touch that kind'a stuff with a ten foot pole."

"But still, i-it...something could've been done. Those bombs that they set up. We should've known--"

"Should'a would'a could'a. It was a shitty way to handle the problem in retrospect, even I can see that. But things are done, now. Nothin' you can do about it. So don't beat yourself up." He leaned back to prop himself up on his elbows, crossing one leg over the other. "If you get into demolition work, do it because you wanna do it. Not because you're paranoid shit like that'll happen again."

"I do wanna do it...!" It wasn't like the drive she had wasn't true. She'd always liked working with explosives, ever since her mother and uncle had taught her how to make them when she was small. It wasn't a career path that most other Gnomes aspired to - they were too busy building machinery and tinkering away on other devices.

"...I do wanna do it. It's s-...special to me."

Gidrixx snorted. "Well, Mazzy's right about one thing. You're all sweetness and light, just like yer the High Tinker's daughter." To her scowl, he chuckled. "But, I'm glad ya wanna stay 'n learn how to make some real explosives. Ain't no better crew than us to teach ya how. An' as far as the shit with your city goes...don't think about it. There ain't a reason to. You're stayin' in Booty Bay now, kiddo."

"Eheh, yeah..."

"So chin up. You're rollin' with the big dogs. You're gonna be one'a the meanest demolitionists to ever come outta the wild south, Jo."

Though his words were no doubt embellished to make her feel better, they did cheer her up a tad. There was truth to the silliness of it all.

Maybe, in time, the ghost of Gnomeregan would dissipate and leave her like embers scattered in the cold night air.

[Kiffles]

- Chapter 6 -
It's A Dirty Job, but Somebody's Got To Do It

"Jo."

"...Nnh..."

"Kid, wake up."

"..."

It was nigh impossible. The blonde Gnomette could probably sleep herself through a seige on the Bay if she wanted to. Luckily, Mazmath was a resourceful Goblin - the glass of water next to her hammock sufficed well in becoming a makeshift alarm clock, "accidentally" being upset over Josie's head with a nudge of his elbow. With a shriek, she bolted upright, leering over at her mentor.

"D'ahhh, jeez," Mazmath chided, his voice a faux grumble, "Y'know, you shouldn't put the glass so close to where ya sleep. Accidentally get water all over the place. Ain't good for the gunpowder, y'know?" He folded his arms, "Speakin'a which, though...I gotta go down to the docks. You ought'a come along with me."

Josie squinted out the small, murky window that sat in the corner of the basement. Either it was caked with soot, or it was still night time. She was going to go with the latter.

"...I think I'm gonna get more sleep, thanks..."

"Ahah. Right. Sorry. I accidentally made that an invitation." With a fluid motion, he snatched the blanket from her while she was in the middle of wiping her face off with a sleeve and whipped it away. "I meant that you're comin' to the docks with me. An' chop-chop -- time equalin' money's never been truer than in this case."

"What's down at the docks...?"

Mazmath gave the blanket a small, knowing grin as he wadded it up and plopped it at the foot of the hammock.

"Supplies."

- - - - -

"One'a the tricks of the trade I like to pride myself on is a little somethin' they call the 'early bird catchin' the worm.' Or in this case, the early demolitionist catchin' the new shipment, before the mornin' rush at all the booths."

The drag-along cart that the pair towed across the wooden pier looked as though it had seen better days. It had its fair share of crevices that were caked with sea salt, and the wheels had probably been round, once upon a time. Nevertheless, it served to get things from point A to point B.

Josie gave a yawn, playing the caboose of the minature parade, keeping a hand on the back of the cart to nudge it along as Mazmath pulled. "They let you buy supplies before the crowds get to see them...?"

"It's all about connections, Jo. Pullin' the strings. You know enough people 'n you can get some of the best materials for the best prices."

"Do you think I'll make some connections here?" Josie asked, voice hopeful amids the lusty lull of sleepiness.

"If you stick around long enough, sure." The Goblin lead the cart around a slew of dock workers, scanning the vicinity with a scrutinizing, rusty-hued gaze. It was as if he was looking for someone. Josie took care to stay right beside the cart, hoping to stay out of the way as she watched him wander off towards one of the sea-faring folk -- not surprisingly, another Goblin. He didn't look to be captain material, but he certainly didn't match the simple, salty crewmen who were hauling crates and sacks down from the ship. Whatever it was Mazmath was talking about with his acquaintance, she couldn't hear, but the body language exchanged between them made her believe that they had probably known each other for quite a long time.

She was a bit envious of the fact that people still had old friends. She could barely count her own on a single hand, now.

Some sort of coin glinted off the moonlight as it was exchanged between the two, and Mazmath trudged back over, grinning his satisfaction. "Alright, kiddo. Shick says our supplies should already be on deck here, somewhere. Just, uh...just look for the hazard tape."

Certainly, the bright yellow tape across a few crates lining the dock were enough to catch just about anyone's eye. The pair rolled the cart over and Josie wasted no time in hefting one of them up, surprised at just how light the crate truly was. Perhaps it was some sort of powder. Some flammable substance. Some--

In an instant, she felt herself slip on a wet part of the boards, her balance faltering. Mazzy had just enough time to glance over, let out a yelp of despair and yank the crate from her arms just as she toppled over the dock and fell into the water with a shriek. He took great care in setting the crate in the cart before peering over the dock side at her, the Gnomette flailing in a fierce doggy-paddle. Apparently they'd taught a great deal of things in the hallowed learning halls of Gnomeregan, but swimming had not been a required class.

Cracklewix scrambled away for but a moment and came right back with a coil of rope, lowering it down towards her and hauling her back up. His voice, when it came, was a rough whisper. "Jeez, Josie! You gotta be more careful around here, hah? You know just how disastrous that would'a been if one'a these crates had fallen into the water? This whole place would'a gone sky high! Kaboom!"

Josie paled as she sat on the dock in a puddle of grimy saltwater, her eyes akin to jade saucers.

"...Y-You don't mean-- ...those crates are full of--"

"Seaforium. Yeh. The crates are supposedly insulated, but f**k only knows what they mean by that. Could just be lined with tissue parchment, fer all we know." He crinkled his nose as he straightened out of the squat he was in beside her.

"Why don't you head back 'n get dry. I can take care'a the rest, 'n I'd rather ya not get your wet little mitts all over everything."

It was probably a good idea, as discouraged as she felt. Wringing out her boar tail braids, the blonde Gnome got to her feet, head hung low as she walked the walk of shame back to the emporium.


Today's Lessons:

- Meet lots of people. The business is all about the connections.

- Grow accustomed to sleeping shorter hours.

- Watch where you step when toting liquid-triggered explosives. Watch where you step. For cogs sake, watch where you frickin' step.

Today's Progress: ...Disheartening.