(02) - Goldbugs in Goldshire

Griffonclaw felt each impact of his hammer on the bronze upon which he worked, the heat of the forge causing rivers of sweat to trickle down his bare chest. At the other end of the forge, Janos Hammerknuckle kept a weather eye on his friend's progress; while Griffonclaw was reasonably skilled from their time together learning smithing in Ironforge, he spent most of his time in armor, rather than making it. However, whenever Griffonclaw sought to meditate on a problem, he would often beg room at Janos' forge, allowing the methodical work at the smelter or anvil while working his way through his problem.

Not to mention producing some fine armor, which he would gift to newly ordained Paladins or Warriors, enabling them to carry the fight to the Horde with a little more assurance. Janos sighed; as a merchant, it went against his grain to give things away.

At the center of Griffonclaw's dilemma was a moral and legal ambiguity; when he had reported from Northshire Abbey to Marshal Dughan, the gruff commander had given him the task of conforming some reports about a kobold infestation in the Fargodeep Mine. "The mine in Northshire isn't the only one with problems!" Dughan had explained. "I have reports that the Fargodeep Mine in Elwynn has also become a haven for Kobolds. Explore the mine and confirm these reports, then return to me. The mine is almost due south of Goldshire, between the Stonefield and Maclure homesteads."

His directions had proved accurate, and Griffonclaw had experienced no difficulties in finding the mines, especially with the wandering kobold guards who sought to deter anyone from entering. Griffonclaw had been attacked by the ugly creatures, their cries of "You no steal candles!" in a fractured version of the Common Tongue reverberating in his ears as he defended himself from their flailing miner picks. Rather than respond in kind, he allowed himself to be driven off; his mission had been to confirm that they held the Fargodeep Mine, and it had certainly been confirmed to his satisfaction.

Some twenty years ago King Llane's kingdom, including the city of Stormwind, had been destroyed by the orcs of the Horde; when Lord Lothar led forces to liberate the lands from the Horde, they had been forced to rebuild almost everything from the Horde's depredations. Many of the rightful holders of the land had been slain, and titles and deeds had been often in dispute; for ten years much of the legal wrangling around who owned what consumed much of the Stormwind court's attention.

According to ancient custom, possession was nine parts of ten in the eyes of the law - and the kobolds had held and worked the mines since the Horde's invasion. Not being citizens of Stormwind, they had no legal rights under the law, and could be dispossessed by any force strong enough to take the mine from them. And somehow, the concepts of "Justice for all" and "Might makes right" were mutually exclusive in Griffonclaw's heart.

To make matters worse, a merchant of dubious ethics, one Remy "Two Times", had appeared in Goldshire, offering to buy the gold dust mined by the kobolds from anyone, no questions asked. Griffonclaw had approached the fellow, who had wasted no time in making his sales pitch to someone as obviously martial as Griffonclaw.

"The Kobolds in these parts sometimes carry Gold Dust on them. I could really use the stuff - bring me a load of it and I'll give you the best price in town...best price in town!" Remy had said, an open offer to all.

To Griffonclaw, this was little better than the banditry of the Defias Brotherhood, who were at least more honest in their dishonesty; they robbed people face-to-face. Remy, on the other hand, took advantage of the legal loophole to have others rob and kill the kobolds because they had no protection under Stormwind law.

While he pondered this, he hammered. He smelted copper ore into ingots, then heated the ingots until molten. He drew from the molten metal a thick copper wire, which he wound around an iron peg, until he had long copper springs. These he cut into rings, and hammered the ends flat. Into the night he interlocked the individual rings into a six-in-one pattern, using bronze rivets to close the ends together. Gradually a hauberk took shape, and in the morning, he had finished both his armor, and a beginnings of a plan...

* * * * * *

Remy "Two Times" sat down at the table in the Lions Pride Inn, filling his tankard from the bottle of wine on the table. Opposite him sat that fellow from before, the one who had objected to his offering money to those who could supply him with gold dust taken from the kobolds. Earlier today, the fellow had indicated that he had a business proposition for Remy, and Remy was never one to let an opportunity - or a free drink - pass by untasted.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me" opened Griffonclaw.

"Your offer was generous" replied Remy. "How often does a paladin of the Defenders of the Light offer to discuss business?" Griffonclaw seemed startled for a moment; he hadn't anticipated that Remy would ask around about him prior to their meeting.

"Not often..." Griffonclaw replied. "We usually are so busy finding cases of injustice, and... rectifying them." Remy began to look a trifle apprehensive. "Fortunately, in this case, the two can happily coincide" Griffonclaw smiled, doing his best to put a predatory look into his eyes. "Tell me, Master Remy, what do you currently pay for packets of gold dust?"

"Why do you ask?" questioned the conniving peddler. The last thing he wanted was for someone else to set up shop in competition, especially someone connected with the Cathedral of Light.

"Very well - let me tell you. You pay, in goods and cash, the equivalent of five silver pennies for ten bags of dust. Not a bad return, since that much gold dust, if melted down, probably comes out to a half-dozen gold sovereigns..." mused Griffonclaw. "A profit of...what? Roughly five gold, forty-five silver per transaction?"

Remy remained silent.

"What if I told you that you could get the pouches straight from the kobolds - from one in particular, named Goldtooth, in exchange for candles, one pouch per candle," Griffonclaw offered. "And what if I told you that I can make arrangements for you to buy candles from Edna and Thurman Mullby at ten copper pennies apiece?"

Remy drank from his tankard. "Well, that would certainly improve my profit... but what's in it for you?"

"Three things..." began Griffonclaw, ticking them off on his fingers as he spoke. "First - nobody has a profit motive to kill the kobolds to steal their gold; its not like they don't work for it with honest labor." He took a sip of his wine. "Second - not everyone survives their attempts at collecting the kobold's gold. I'd rather see warriors focus their energies on the Defias, or the Horde."

"And third..." he said, leaning forward and whispering "...I won't have to have the Defenders of the Light bring this matter before the Royal Court... at the best, you'd have to pay taxes on your little trades. At the worst... where does that gold find its way to? Minting coins is a Royal monopoly, and I'd hate to think that someone else was stamping coins... "

Remy gulped audibly. As Griffonclaw had suspected, his business dealings probably wouldn't stand up under too much scrutiny - especially from a government hungry for coin to pay for rebuilding and defense against the orcs in the east, bandits in the west, and the Undead Scourge to the south.

"I think we can make this deal work" responded Remy, talking a little faster than normal.

"Good. Tomorrow we'll go see the Mullby's shop, and then we'll go see Goldtooth in the mines... this could be the start of a much more profitable business for you, with no blood shed on either side."

"And if I hear that you've gone back to your bloodthirsty practice" Griffonclaw snarled suddenly, all humor and affability in his voice turned to cold stone, "then you and I will have another meeting... one far less profitable to you."