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| Details |
| Author: | inkie |
| Summary: | Ben and Sil are joined by Gaakhed (and his moth), Tadget, Samarith, Atley, and Bruss, and make the acquaintance of a fellow called Arthund. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Silvestre comes up the stairs and nudges by the draenei to wave at Ben.
Gaakhed walks up the stairs, a huge, giant moth on his back. "Greetings, is it the Cobalt Company drink?"
Ben is sitting at the table with his chair tipped back, a half-drunk pint of beer in hand, gazing into space. He blinks, sits up, and smiles at Gaakhed, knitting his brow a little. "Hey, evenin'."
Silvestre plops down into a chair, and then glances curiously back over at said draenei.
[Ben]: Yeah, it is. C'mon over. You want a beer? … Hey, Sil.
[Gaakhed]: I wouldn't say no to a beer! *He sits down.*
Ben eyes the giant moth and… leans slightly away from the flappy dust.
[Silvestre]: Oh man, I remember that moth dust on you Ben. Best steer clear.
Ben grins at Sil and flags Edris down. "Uh, beers for the table, Edris, please. An' pretzels."
[Silvestre]: Are you in Cobalt? Don't think we've met.
[Gaakhed]: I am, yes. I joined… a long time ago. I've been exploring Azeroth since! It might be why we haven't met yet.
[Gaakhed]: I was the one who told Azizia this meeting was mandatory, once.
Gaakhed lets out a hearty chuckle.
Ben side-eyes the moth again.
Gaakhed summons some light in his hand to move his moth behind his chair, after noticing Ben's looks and Sil's comment.
[Tadget]: …Huh. Didn't this used to be the Cobalt table? I don't recognize any of you people.
Ben eyes Tadget up and down.
Silvestre cranes his head over to look at the tiny gnome. "Hey, is that Springblade?"
[Ben]: This… is the Cobalt table. You ain't recognize me, Lord Tadget? I am hurt to my quick.
Ben grins.
[Tadget]: Wait, what was your face…
[Ben]: Mostly this has been always my face. More or less shaved.
[Tadget]: Sorry, it's been a while. I've been away creating life, like unto a god.
[Ben]: You are… like unto a… okay. Beer?
[Silvestre]: Accountants drink free at this table! Also, everyone else does too. *Sil grins.*
Tadget hops up into a chair.
[Tadget]: So yeah, about that… you guys still NEED an accountant?
[Ben]: We got Mizzy.
[Silvestre]: Uhhhh… and Oranna on Azeroth side, right?
[Ben]: Yeah.
[Tadget]: Crap.
Tadget puts her forehead on the table.
[Ben]: We got two accountants, is how big we are now.
[Tadget]: Ugggggggh. That sucks.
Tadget sits back.
[Silvestre]: You could always do accounting for SI:7!
[Tadget]: Noooooooooooo.
[Ben]: For instance, I am a officer and have not met this fellow previously. That's how big we are. Sorry, sir. Ben Hazan. Nice to meet you. *He nods to Gaakhed.*
[Tadget]: I'm Sgt. Tadget Slipshank, on leave from the 7th Legion.
[Silvestre]: And I'm Sil Silentstep, rogue extraordinaire.
Gaakhed goes to shake their hands, one by one. This is the polite way to greet, according to human customs. He knows. He's observed them. "Gaakhed, a pleasure to meet all of you."
Silvestre shakes his hand firmly and smiles.
Ben leans across the table to shake Gaakhed's hand very briefly. "'Preciate you movin' the moth."
Ben eyes Tadget again. "Do you… I mean. Are you lookin' for work?"
[Tadget]: I was SUPPOSED to rejoin the 6th Expeditionary Unit today. I've spent forever getting my stupid leeches weaned properly to the wet nurse. But I failed the stupid fitness test.
[Tadget]: So now I am here to get extraordinarily drunk, since I am now allowed to do that, as I am no longer sustaining three greedy leeches with the miracle of my womanly body.
Ben knits his brow at Tadget. "You got leeche– ohhh."
Silvestre turns to Tadget in surprise. "You were feeding leeches?"
[Ben]: Metaphorical leeches, Sil.
[Tadget]: That's what I call my kids. I haven't named 'em yet.
[Tadget]: It's been a busy three months.
[Ben]: … you have not named 'em?
[Tadget]: I mean… what's to name? They're kind of… samey.
Ben eyes Tadget. He picks his beer back up and has a sip, perhaps so as not to comment.
[Tadget]: Maybe their dad'll help. He's good with words and stuff.
[Silvestre]: Ohhh, I see. Uh, I'm kinda good with babies now, if you need a babysitter. I bet gnome ones are cute as f– very cute.
[Tadget]: Oh they are extremely cute.
[Tadget]: I shouldn't start thinking about how cute, or I'll cry. Stupid hormones.
Edris appears and efficiently distributes more pints and two bowls of pretzels. She bustles off before anyone can ask her for anything else.
[Tadget]: One of 'em even has my eyes. *She bats them. They are cute.*
[Silvestre]: You call 'em one, two and three or something? Or how can you tell which one's hungry and which one's eaten?
[Tadget]: Yeah, I've been calling 'em Leech 1, Leech 2, and Leech 3.
[Ben]: … you can tell when a baby is hungry. They ain't shy.
[Tadget]: I might not bother naming Leech 3 at all, not sure it's gonna make it. Li'l runt.
Gaakhed raises an eyebrow inquisitively, taking mental notes of if this is usual for Azeroth to name babies like that.
[Silvestre]: Gaakhed, you got any babies? I think we all got babies here, some way or another. My nephew, Ben's brother, her leeches.
Ben eyes Tadget again and turns his attention pointedly to Gaakhed.
[Gaakhed]: Ah well, I may have lived for thousands of years, but I can't say that I do, no. *He chuckles softly.*
[Tadget]: Welp, I guess if Jo's not here I'll have to actually stop by HQ like a professional or something. SIGH. *She says the word sigh.*
Gaakhed chuckles at Tadget.
[Tadget]: Enjoy your drinks, people I sort of remember and also possibly do not at all.
Ben glances back to Tadget and twitches a small smile. "Evenin', your lordship."
[Silvestre]: Seeya accountant!
[Gaakhed]: Good luck in your quest for… Accountant #3!
[Ben]: Oh, she should name 'em somethin' accountancy. Asset and Loss and… I dunno what another accountant thing is.
[Ben]: Depreciation.
[Gaakhed]: Are those… common names?
[Ben]: No.
[Ben]: But I do not think Lord Tadget is that common.
[Silvestre]: Seems like they'd know which one was the favorite.
[Silvestre]: I'd hate to be Loss or Depreciation.
[Ben]: Okay so, uh, Asset and Profit and… I dunno. Net income?
[Ben]: I will have to ask Mizzy.
[Gaakhed]: I see. With the emphasis your society places on last names, I would have thought a lot of care was placed into your first names as well.
[Silvestre]: Oh, it is. Our babies… uh, the ones in our families… got normal names. Dane and Nate.
Gaakhed nods. "That's what I thought!"
[Ben]: Yeah mostly we are kiddin'.
[Gaakhed]: Those are beautiful names indeed.
[Ben]: But people do get named all kind of ways.
[Ben]: My aunt is a midwife and she knows a woman in Elwynn had five sons and her husband named 'em all for himself.
[Ben]: Like five Otises or somethin'.
[Gaakhed]: … All were named Otises… with the same last names, then? That must have been confusing.
[Silvestre]: That's not much better than Leech, if you call 'em Otis one through five.
Gaakhed nods at Silvestre.
[Ben]: Yeah, so I mean. Not everyone puts in consideration. Is what I'm sayin'.
Silvestre waves at Samarith.
[Silvestre]: Sam, come over for a beer?
Samarith plops down at the table, grinning at Sil. "Thanks!"
Gaakhed greets Samarith warmly.
[Samarith]: You folks are like clockwork!
Ben smiles crookedly at Samarith. "Well, yeah, that is kind of the point. Every Wednesday. How is your nether boxes project?"
Ben slides a beer toward Samarith.
Samarith picks up the beer with a wink to Sil and takes a heavy gulp.
[Samarith]: The Nether Box… has had ups and downs.
Ben nods solemnly at Samarith, straight-faced. "They do that, I guess."
Samarith snickers at Ben.
Ben grins at Samarith
[Gaakhed]: Nether Box?
Atley stomps through the door of Bruuk's, grunting and nodding at Bruuk, himself.
Gaakhed offers to shake Samarith's hand. "My name is Gaakhed, a pleasure to meet you."
[Samarith]: Nice to meet you, Gaakhed. I'm Samarith.
Ben sits up, faintly startled by the figure on the stairs. "Hey, sir."
Samarith glances toward the stairs. "Whoa… thought a tauren might be comin' up those steps.
Gaakhed chuckles at Samarith.
Atley scoffs in faint amusement. "No tauren, this time. Hullo', you lot," he says, slowly raising a stiff hand before he tries to scout out some drink.
[Ben]: Have a beer. Got a few.
Ben gestures magnanimously at the table.
There are already several pints waiting to be claimed, as well as pretzels.
Atley grunts. "As always, Ben." He stomps forward and swipes up the nearest ale that's untouched, briefly glancing between Gaakhed and Samarith.
[Silvestre]: Hey Dane, we were just talking about the little one.
[Ben]: You met Sam and Gank, sir? This is Sir Atley, y'all. Sir Atley, Sam and Gank. Gank-head.
Atley growls with acknowledgement into his mug. "Ah. And how is the little one, then?"
Gaakhed looks at Dane, smiling. "Ah yes, I assume this isn't the baby Dane we just talked about."
Ben laughs at Gaakhed.
[Ben]: No, this's the one he's named for.
Atley grunts with amusement and trades his mug around, extending a hand to Gaakhed. "Not quite. Sharp hat you've there, mate. Dane or Atley will do for these circumstances."
Gaakhed does not correct Ben’s pronunciation of his name right away. "Gaakhed, a pleasure to meet you," he says, shaking Dane's hand firmly.
[Samarith]: Heh… so… you're Dane, but not this Baby Dane's father?
Atley turns to Samarith first and nods. "You've that right, milady."
Samarith smirks at Dane. "You can just call me Sam, big guy. I'm about as close to a 'milady' as a mutt is to a purebred."
Atley growls with amusement at Samarith, his eyes smirking as he raises his mugs. "Well enough then, Sam."
Atley rounds the table and leans back against the wall, taking another long pull from his tankard.
[Ben]: How is married life? Ain't seen Mrs. Atley in a minute.
Atley looks to Ben, eyes softening for a moment. "She's evening out. Settling into things properly. Ought to have you and the missus about sometime."
Ben smiles a touch bashfully at Atley. "I'd like that. Uh. Maybe tell Mrs. Atley not to get blood on mine this time, though."
Atley clicks his tongue. "Aye, she's a bit of trouble reining in the fangs at times. I'll see to it."
[Ben]: Ain't I know it. But Mizmainy's shy of fangs some. Reckon they will get on fine in a bit, though.
Ben firmly believes that everyone will get on fine with Mizzy, in a bit.
[Atley]: Ismene's a sweet girl. Barlowe's got her aggressive streaks, though I love her still.
[Ben]: She is a sweet as hell girl. *Ben is proud that yet another person has noticed.*
Gaakhed, as Dane mentions a wedding, nods and lets out an almost inaudible, knowing "Hmm!" He drinks from his pint.
Atley grunts and takes a sip.
[Ben]: Gank, you said you known Azizia?
Atley peers at Gaakhed searchingly.
Gaakhed nods. He decides he will roll with the nickname ‘Gank.’ "Yes, I was a close friend of her parents. She's a bit like a niece, to me. A rebellious niece with a lot of attitude!"
Gaakhed lets out a hearty chuckle.
[Ben]: … a lot of attitude. Yeah.
[Atley]: Spirited, that one.
[Samarith]: Sounds like my kinda gal.
Samarith smirks.
[Atley]: I could see the pair of you properly carrying on.
Arthund sighs at Edris Barleybeard.
Ben eyes Arthund speculatively as he drinks his beer again.
Silvestre glances over at Arthund.
[Arthund]: Are you sure you haven't seen him? He said he'd meet me here half an hour ago.
Gaakhed seems distracted, listening to the conversation behind him.
Arthund scratches the back of his neck. "It's just…he said he would pay me."
Ben makes a silent Oooooh expression. Not getting paid is bad. He knits his brow at the stranger.
Atley peers at Arthund searchingly.
[Atley]: Right. Wot's all that, then?
[Samarith]: Sounds like someone got stiffed.
[Atley]: Mm. Properly.
Arthund shakes his head at Edris. "Unless you think he's going to show up, I'd better not order anything. No sense having us both short on what's owed us."
[Silvestre]: Hey, sir, you lookin' for somebody?
[Ben]: We got free beers over here, if you want.
[Arthund]: Those free beers?
[Silvestre]: Yep, free beer table for Wednesday.
[Samarith]: Yeah! Come mooch off these fine folks. I've been doing it for weeks.
Gaakhed puts his arm on his chair to look behind him. "Yes, feel free to join us!"
[Ben]: Cobalt Company, every Wednesday night.
Ben leans forward to slide a bowl of pretzels over, for good measure.
[Ben]: Ben Hazan. Hey.
Atley raises his mug in greeting
[Arthund]: Cobalt Company! Back in from beyond the Nether, then?
[Atley]: For a time.
Ben raises his eyebrows, faintly surprised.
[Silvestre]: Yeah, I been hangin' round Azeroth side lately.
[Arthund]: Well if it was me, I'd want a beer too.
Arthund takes a mug, glancing around to be sure it's okay.
Silvestre makes a 'go on' gesture.
Bruss looks around the room, and smiles upon recognizing Sam.
[Ben]: Yeah, whole company ain't all over there, but those of us that is, we get back once a week or so for family. And–
[Samarith]: Hey, Bruss!
Samarith grins at the shaman.
[Silvestre]: Wow, we're so popular tonight!
Ben glances at the newcomer.
Ben nods respectfully to Bruss.
[Bruss]: Good evening, Samarith! Are these more of your colleagues?
Bruss tries not to loom.
[Samarith]: Colleagues? No, these are Lireen's colleagues. Cobalt Company! At least some of them, that I know of.
Ben leans toward Sil and says in a stage-whispered aside, "We are popular on account of free beer."
Atley grunts.
Gaakhed turns around again. He speaks in Draenei. "Ah, it's good to see a fellow Draenei here! I was starting to feel surrounded!" He chuckles.
Ben sits up and nods again at Bruss.
[Bruss]: Ah, yes. Lireen. My mistake.
Silvestre chuckles at Ben. "That and our sparklin' personalities."
[Ben]: Sparklin'.
[Atley]: Charmers and scoundrels.
[Ben]: I am the charmer, Sil is the scoundrel. Or the other way. Can't ever remember.
Silvestre nods seriously. "One or the other. Or we trade off."
[Arthund]: Flipping coins to see who gets what?
Ben grins at Arthund.
Bruss nods respectfully at Gaakhed. "Well met! Though I'm sure we've passed each other on the Exodar at some point."
Gaakhed nods. "I'm sure we did, you do look familiar!"
Bruss nods.
[Atley]: Have a pint while they're still about.
Ben eyes Arthund up and down.
[Ben]: Someone stiff you out of pay, sir?
[Bruss]: I apologize if I am interrupting. Samarith, Lireen, myself, and some others, pursued a demon into a complex south of Stormwind recently.
Arthund has a bit of beer and listens.
Atley knits his brow. "Wot', out in Elwynn?"
[Bruss]: Lireen spoke at length about your company.
Ben blinks at Bruss and sits up again alertly. "A demon? South of Stormwind?"
[Samarith]: Okay, whoa, whoa… best not to oversimplify when talking about demons, friend.
Ben looks to Samarith for explanation.
[Bruss]: I defer to your expertise. I merely hunt them.
[Samarith]: Well… me too. Hence the expertise.
Atley grunts approval before looking to Samarith.
Samarith winks.
Shaor, Gaakhed's moth pet, has been resting on the ground, starting at the big lamp at the back of the room. Longing.
[Samarith]: So, the story is that I've been on the tail of a particular demon for some time. I tracked him to Westfall, where I suspected — and later confirmed — he'd infiltrated and hidden himself among the remains of the Defias.
Gaakhed listens attentively to the demon talk.
Ben sharpens. "What?"
Atley glares down at Sam.
Samarith holds up her hands in a calming gesture.
[Ben]: They mixin' with fucken demons now?
[Atley]: Cannot say I'm properly surprised.
Arthund glances away at the mention of the Defias.
[Ben]: Fucken hell, I thought they was dryin' up and —
Ben rakes a frustrated hand through his hair.
[Bruss]: I believe the key here is, what do you humans call it? Past tense?
[Samarith]: Ahhh… not anymore, thanks to the help of Bruss here, plus your Lireen, her daughter, and another dwarf.
[Atley]: What sort was it? One of the little screechy bastards? Another sort?
[Gaakhed]: Did they accept the demon willingly, or was it disguised?
[Ben]: … so it was just the one demon? An' how many fucken Defias was still hangin' around down there with it?
[Bruss]: Only one of notable strength, as far as I could tell.
[Samarith]: Not a screechy bastard, no. He's a dreadlord. See, the Defias have fractured into factions vying for control. This dreadlord took advantage of the situation and installed a false Edwin VanCleef, I guess convincing them he'd survived or come back to life.
Ben says some unprintable things and chugs the last of his beer with a vengeance.
Atley slowly lowers his mug at 'dreadlord' and stares intently at Samarith.
[Silvestre]: Cobalt for sure ended that guy.
[Samarith]: I thought the false VanCleef was the demon… but I was wrong. He was just a human pawn.
Gaakhed nods wisely. He knows the names Defias and VanCleef. Absolutely.
[Ben]: Who was the demon? You sure it was the one, only?
[Bruss]: It was a rather convincing simulacrum. He could have passed for one of you, except for the stench of shadow upon him.
[Atley]: So he'd disguised himself as just one of the regular tossers, then.
[Samarith]: Most likely, yes.
[Gaakhed]: Hm, so it was a disguise. Not the first time I've heard of such subterfuges from the Legion.
[Ben]: They done that to the Scarlet Crusade.
[Samarith]: sighs grimly. "The nathrezim is called Lorganthius. A lesser dreadlord in their ranks, but as cunning as they come. He's played the cult leader before and it didn't work out for him. So, I suppose he's learned to whisper in the ear of a figurehead.”
Atley 's voice turns into an ominous growl. "That's the work of dreadlords… Puppeteers, the lot of them. Lurking about." He produces a venomous scowl.
Gaakhed nods at Atley.
Samarith nods to Dane. "You know your demons."
Atley slowly gnashes his teeth. "Came upon a dreadlord, once. Long ago." he adds curtly before shaking his head. "And you said you lot have done it in, then?"
[Samarith]: I wasn't able to trap Lorganthius. He wasn't there. We have reason to believe he'd left for some 'sanctuary' associated with another branch of his network. But I don't know where that is. Yet.
Ben is scowling so hard that his face is gonna stick that way if he isn't careful. He reaches for a second beer.
Gaakhed crosses his arms and whispers "Hmmm". He finishes his beer too. "Let me know if I can be of any help. I usually track beasts, but I know a thing or two about finding demons."
Samarith nods to Gaakhed.
[Silvestre]: Maybe you ought to talk to Cap Jo or Captain Ference. I bet they'd want to know about a nathrezim.
[Ben]: For sure, yeah.
[Ben]: Especially mixin' up with Defias again. I mean, was them took out Van Cleef.
[Samarith]: Your Lireen seemed pretty keen on recruiting us all after that. So… I dunno, maybe I'll be talking to your captains soon.
[Atley]: We can use it, if the lot of you've taken to hunting dreadlords.
Arthund peers at his beer. "I know nothing of demons. Blasting powder and debt, sure. not this."
[Silvestre]: Oh, we're not a group of demon hun— people who hunt demons, *Sil smiles at Arthund.* We got all sorts. But it's definitely gonna interest the captains.
[Samarith]: Blasting powder can be very effective against demons, I'm sure.
Samarith grins.
[Ben]: … blasting powder and debt is a hell of a combination.
Gaakhed nods at Ben.
[Atley]: I know they bleed, and they die. Wot's this about debt?
Samarith lifts her beer toward Arthund. "Debt is a heavy weight, I know. I wish you good fortunes in the future, friend."
Bruss looks at Arthund, puzzled. "Is this a usual combination among humans?"
[Arthund]: The details might be unique, but foolishness is all too common.
[Ben]: Foolishness comes in bumper crops.
Gaakhed gently taps Bruss on the arm. He speaks in Draenei again. "I'm not sure you'll find 'usual' here."
Bruss shares a chuckle with Gaakhed.
[Silvestre]: Oh, was that the horn? I better head out.
[Ben]: … shit, was it?
Atley grunts in the affirmative.
[Silvestre]: Great to see you all, and meet you too, the ones I hadn't yet!
[Gaakhed]: A pleasure to meet you too!
Gaakhed waves goodbye to Silvestre. Farewell!
[Bruss]: I am following some signs of taint in Ashenvale myself. The elements are most perturbed to the east, and the south.
[Bruss]: I am sure out paths will cross again soon.
Bruss bows down graciously.
Bruss waves goodbye to everyone. Farewell!
Gaakhed waves goodbye to Bruss. Farewell!
[Silvestre]: Until next time, we always got the free beers. And the best conversation. *Sil grins, and then disappears.*
Ben chugs his fresh beer with breathless speed, because he cannot waste a beer.
[Ben]: I hate to buy beers an' run but yeah, I got to get back to babies an' the wife.
[Gaakhed]: I should probably head out as well.
Ben does not literally run.
[Samarith]: See you next time I come to mooch!
[Gaakhed]: My apologies for any discomfort Shaor might have brought. *He gets up and pats the giant moth on the head.*
[Arthund]: Thank you for the beer.
[Ben]: Hey, no worries about the moth. Or the beer. Every Wednesday, friend. Hope you get your debt thing sorted?
Arthund nods. "I'm working on it."
[Ben]: Miss Sam, glad to hear your nether box is well. Sir Atley, give the missus my best.
[Atley]: Will do, yours as well.
Atley raises his mug in farewell.
Samarith gives Ben a little half-salute, half-wave as he departs.