AZEROTH POST

Eucalypto;

You will be pleased to know that my raid through Darkshire was rather amusing but unproductive. I have gained a torch. That is all.

Stonard is, as you said, a festering swamp filled with amphibious, flesh eating monsters. And trolls. I am rather enjoying it. I’ve sent along some herbs for your enjoyment.

The desert is covered with edible fools, whole towns of them. Not as much treasure as I expected, but the entertainment was priceless.

Virtually no sign of the Scarlets here. The same as the Swamp. And those fools still won’t let me past the Bulwark.

And how is Rik? Did that guild ever get started?

Hyzanthlay

* * *

Rik awoke with a bit of a headache, but the warm morning light and smell of fresh coffee brought him some relief. The hot, bitter liquid was a luxury in Mulgore but the goblins of Stranglethorn were legendary for their trade in it. Eucalypto seemed to have a taste for it, no doubt from what had been a privileged upbringing in life. Just how privileged was something Rik was to find more about directly.

Eucalypto was considerably more cheerful and seemed to have forgotten his unhappy rambling from the previous night. He poured Rik some coffee and told him a few stories of the jungle and his forays into Duskwood. Every time Rik tried to raise the subject of the guild startup money, he was politely deflected. Was he playing another game, or perhaps he didn’t have money after all?

Rik would be rather miffed if he found out he had come all the way from Mulgore just because His Roguish Highness had been feeling lonely. And that’s exactly what he said the next time his host tried to stuff another bit of breakfast pastry into his mouth.

“And you know sugar doesn’t agree with me,” he added curtly.

“Oh, you let business interfere with a nice brunch!” Eucalypto quickly finished his coffee. “Fine, then.”

Rik expected Euxalypto to open a cupboard and see a waterfall of gold and jewels spill out. Perhaps he would lift up a floorboard and reveal a locked and booby-trapped chest filled with various bank notes. But no; Eucalypto had thrown his cape over his shoulders, picked up his hat, and was preparing to head out the door.

“Where…” The ruffled Tauren looked with confusion at his friend.

“To the Stranglethorn Trust Bank,” Eucalypto answered, straightening his cap and throwing his cape over his shoulders. “You wanted to get to work, didn’t you?”

Well, if the fund was so vast that it had to be kept in a bank, that was something Rik could live with.

Mornings in Booty Bay were typically quiet to compensate for the late, noisy nights. Only a few locals were out and about, fishing from the boardwalks or shopping for breakfast. They took little note of the undead rogue and his hulking Tauren companion, who kept yawning and stretching.

Rickle Goldgrubber was more than a simple banker. The funds he was responsible for formed the economic basis of most of the Eastern Kingdoms, and he loved his job. Thus, his face was a strange mixture of terror and enthusiasm when he saw Eucalytpo. He smiled nervously and motioned a lackey towards him.

“Good morning, Master…ehm…Eucalypto. You wish to access your funds?”

A nervous little goblin, no doubt a scribe or clerk, meekly asked if he could take the Master’s hat and coat, perhaps bring him some tea? Eucalypto graciously accepted, and could his Tauren friend have the same? The Tauren, who was only dressed in his leather kilt and linen vest, looked rather comical as he took the dainty teacup in his massive hand.

“One moment, please,” Rickle smiled at the Druid and motioned to Eucalypto. It seemed Rik was expected to wait a moment. There seemed to be some forms to sign. The goblins seemed horrified and submissive at the same time, and it was certainly not Eucalypto’s state of undeath that was putting them off. Why all the formality?

“I hope you don’t mind, sir,” the Scribe said gently, “but with this amount, and the…circumstances, your friend’s identity must be verified. Protocol, you understand.”

“Well, no, I don’t understand at all,” Rik said. “Isn’t my friend just taking money out of an account?”

“Oh,” the goblin faltered awkwardly, “not exactly. Actually, he…well I’m afraid that’s not my place. The bank manager will be with you shortly. Can I get you anything else? Are you certain? Enjoy your tea, sir.”

She seemed to be in a hurry to leave. Eucalypto smiled and asked quietly for more tea before letting her scurry off. He had that look on his face that was quiet and reserved, but Rik knew he was laughing hysterically inside. Rickle looked like he was containing a nervous breakdown but at the same time his face was flushed and he was breathing rather deeply. He was clutching a bundle of papers in his hand.

“My friend, Rik, will have access to any and all the services you have offered to me,” Eucalypto said, continuing a conversation that had already been in progress. “Would you be so kind as to explain to him the terms of our contract?”

“Certainly,” Rickle almost sniffled, “It seems that certain investments that the Stranglethorn Trust previously thought were remaindered due to accident and death, have been accounted for. Certain prominent families…”

At this point, Eucalypto carefully touched his knife, not to threaten but to warn. It seems a point of discussion had been the use of his identity. Just because it was in the contract doesn’t mean it had to be on display. Rickle paused, nodded, and continued.

“…that shall remain unnamed have been unable to claim their vast investments for some time. However, the Venture Company has made a pledge to honor the interests of its shareholders. In exchange for keeping this account in trust with the party of the first part, that being the Stranglethorn Trust Bank, will extend all credit and hospitality to the party of the second part, that being the Guildmaster of DPS Very Slowly. The executor of which is one Rik, Druid of Mulgore.

Sign here, please.”

Rik was annoyed at being expected to make his mark with such a flimsy little instrument, especially since his hands were trembling a bit. He didn’t understand the finer details, but it seems that certain wealthy families from Lordaeron had made considerable investments in the Venture Company. In recent years, the company had proved to be a success, and the value of the investments had shot through the roof.

In a single day, however, virtually all of these investors had disappeared when the kingdom of Lordearon has been destroyed.

All but one, it seems.

Eucalypto, even in undeath, was the last surviving heir not only of his families fortune but the fortunes of many. They had invested their money as a group, perhaps as an extended family or a guild. That part didn’t really matter.

What did matter was that Eucalytpo’s fortune was so vast that the bank and the Venture Company couldn’t pay him.

Therefore, had a massive account at his disposal, along with a line of credit, and probably a controlling interest in both the bank and the mining company.

And there was something else….oh no. Now he understood the look on Eucalypto’s face. He had been laughing at him.

Thanking the goblins profusely, Rik pulled Eucalypto aside, back out into the open boardwalk.

“DPS Very Slowly?” He exclaimed. “What kind of guild name is that? Do you think that just because you paid for it, you can name the guild?”

“Yes,” Eucalypto said frankly. “I do. I had a vision! And I’ll tell you all about it over a civilized dinner.”

They were out on the docks again, and the sun was rising into a clear sky, shimmering off the water. They paused and looked out over the ocean.

“Well…well…” Rik was a little overwhelmed, “we have a guild, do we?”

“You’re welcome,” Eucalypto said with a confidant smile, then took his cigarette case out of his pocket. It crossed Rik’s mind that he hadn’t seen Eucalypto smoking yet today, and the case seemed curiously empty.

Eucalypto lit one and sighed. Rik opened his mouth to ask about Hyzanthlay, but Eucalypto seemed to want to avoid that subject as well. He muttered something about the lovely weather and turned to walk towards the tavern. Rik followed, hoping that some day drinking would loosen Eucalypto’s tongue.

“So, you saw a cake, a cake, and it was on fire?”

The tavern in Booty Bay was humming as usual. Rik had decided to allow Eucalypto to buy him lunch, get him drunk, and try to explain the name he had chosen for a guild.

“No, no,” the rogue laughed and refilled his friend’s glass. “It was a flaming pie. And on that flaming pie…”

“…Was sitting Moroes the Castellan, and he said, ‘You shall name your guild DPS Very Slowly.”

“Yes,” Eucalypto acknowledged. “And when he said slowly, he meant very fucking slowly. He was quite emphatic on that point.”

“I see. What have you been smoking again?” Rik reminded himself to have a chat with Hyzanthlay when she reappeared.

How come she never shared her best herb with him? He was a Tauren and a Druid, after all. The night elves had a few very tasty herb smoking blends, and considering how Hyz felt about night elves she probably had no knowledge of them. He couldn’t help but smile when recalling one of his earlier days as a Druid; one of his colleagues in Moonglade had a jar of something that you could smell three fathoms underwater and ten leagues away. Two pulls had just about ripped his head off, but he still managed to impress his companion with his smoking prowess.

“So the rumors are true,” she had purred at him and smiled, “that your people have some herbal wisdom. This requires immediate and forceful discussion. You may have to stay the night. Do you mind if I slip into something more comfortable?” And the flimsy robe she was wearing slid away, exposing every inch of her soft lavender skin.

So the rumors are true, Rik thought. Night elves have seen too much and lived too long to be embarrassed by petty things like spontaneous nudity and cross-species coitus. What had happened to that girl anyway? Moonglade was far away and it had been years ago. He was rather ashamed to admit that he couldn’t even remember her name. Darnassian names were tricky anyway.

“You doubt the authenticity of my vision,” Eucalypto chided, with a mock fierceness that resembled the muted roar of a fervent preacher. “Doubt me not, friend Druid! We shall have one of the most infamous guild of which neither the Horde nor Alliance has seen.”

The days went by quickly in Stranglethorn Vale. Rik was busy fine-tuning the guild and exploring the nearby jungle. He had to admit, some of the beaches and flora were lovely. The environment was definitely something a druid would appreciate. Eucalypto grew rather somber but was of great help in the recruitment department. His cigarette case was now empty, and was starting to collect dust in the bank where he had left it. This worried Rik a little.

Where was Hyzanthlay?

“Somewhere in Tanaris, last I heard,” Eucalypto replied without looking up when he asked.

“Up to no good in the desert then?” The Tauren quipped.

“Hopefully,” Eucalypto replied in a calm, almost bored voice, but Rik could tell he was smiling.