Rubies and Rivals ™ © Ⓡ

As a general rule of thumb, goblins typically loathe other goblins.

Of course, not as much as they despise gnomes. That rivalry goes as far back as the First War, with no end in sight. No, goblins may have a few fellow Kezan goblins in their friend circle, but that is under the assumption that they have absolutely no conflicts of business, and that when conflict does arise, they do the other the favor of stabbing them in the front, instead of the back. Yet despite this animosity, they do sometimes come together to get things more important than feeding well-placed paranoia done. Where do you think baby goblins come from?

Still, traveling all the way from Zandalar to Booty Bay was not something usually done unless you had business there, being a free port in the hands of the Steamwheedle Cartel and a haven for the Blackwater Raiders who often hounded well-established shipping lanes of those on the Cartel’s bad side. The only link back to reasonable business practice was a ship named The Maiden's Fancy that ran regular trips to Ratchet. Much to Pixistick’s chagrin, she had business dire enough to be standing on the deck of said ship, and she didn’t have the time to change from her perfectly acceptable outfit for the weather; still stuck in her heavy jacket and overalls, while perfect for the climate of Winterspring, did nothing but melt her in her own skin.

Pixi tucked her blue bangs back and looked around what remained of the port town over the brim of her gemstone-encrusted [Bronze-Tinted Sunglasses]. Protected from all but the worst of the weather by the semi-circular cliffs known, the cove was known as Blackwater Cove. Built by humans, taken by the local Stranglethorn jungle trolls before the goblins evicted them, moved in, and renovated the place to become their ticket into the Eastern Kingdoms long before the continent was labeled “Alliance only” during the First War. Like everywhere else, the Cataclysm didn’t pull its punches on Booty Bay. The massive tidal wave that slammed into the cove cracked open the statue of Baron Revilgaz, the de facto ruler of the town, and knocked the legendary large red cannons into the sea. That didn’t mean the place was totally defenseless; the Bloodsail Buccaneers tried to take the port from the Baron before he even had the chance to clean up all the flotsam and jetsam that was littered around the harbor, and together with the Blacksail’s he chased them out to the South Sea with their tails between their legs. 

“Hey-ah tough guy, can you point a girl in the direction of Noxblade Investigations?” Pixisticks threw a stick of bubblegum into her mouth as she addressed the team of Bruisers guarding the dock.

“Noxblade Investigations? Whada ya want with dat loser?” A Bruiser with a jawline that could break bottles spoke first.

“Business that's none of yours, mook.”

“Long as it’s not trouble for da Baron. Last I heard, he’s been holdin’ up in Deep Water Tannery while Glixx is..ah… financially predisposed. ” The other bruiser spat out some chew, then pointed out the building just visible from the dock. It looked like a ramshackle warehouse, only needing a strong wind to send it crashing into the bay.

“I wouldn’t dream of it! Baron’s got nothin’ ta worry about.” POP went the bubble gum, and with a grin, she waved goodbye to the bruiser, who all watched her leave with appreciative glances. “Thank you, boys.”

The trip up the dock to the Deep Water Tannery was nothing to write home about, and neither was the inside when she stepped through the leather flap that was serving as a temporary door. It was honest to gob leather armor and hides shop, though clearly, the eviction dispute did not go over well. What she imagined was the previous wooden door was leaning against the opposite wall, still wrapped with the iron chains and padlock that was meant to keep the owner Glixx out. It looked like it had been torn from the hinges - likey from a hired hobgoblin.

Behind a makeshift desk of boxes, was a gob of normal height (or lack thereof), with shortish dark gray hair which came to a crest.  His eyes were red, and seemed to glow - not from magical effect, but because his eyes were perpetually bloodshot. Two thin silver rings pierced his left nostril.  His nose was long and sharp enough to put out an eye, and his chin could be used to hammer a rock to ruble; in fact, judging by some smallish scars on his chin, several mooks had tried just that, slamming his face repeatedly into a brick wall. Pixi would have called him a man on hard times until her keep eyes took one look at his leather armor, which covered him from head to toe. By her estimation, it was made from dinosaur hides that had been shaped and then boiled in special oils to ease his passage from the visible to the Shadows. Something about how he sat behind the boxes in the darkened corner didn’t look...right.

The man dropped some pages he had been looking at and stood. "Noxblade Investigations, what can I charge you fo... I mean, what can I do for you?"

Now on his two legs, she could tell that he wasn't just a mook with fancy armor. He carried a pair of cutlasses which have had mithril engraved into the blades and on the edges and point. The briefest shine of a flintlock pistol strapped in a holster on the small of his back gave itself away. His belt had a number of tools advertising his skill as an engineer, with myriad pouches of parts and useful devices; he must have been a firm believer in the saying that very few problems cannot be overcome by the suitable application of high explosives. Pixisticks could respect that. Hanging off his left hip was a leather pouch, looking just big enough to hold a book, but she couldn’t say for certain.

So, he was armored, he was smart enough not to carry just one weapon, he apparently knew the value of a well times explosion, and he was admittedly kinda cute. 

Perfect.

Pixi quickly averted her eyes from him as to not be seen staring, looking around the place over the edge of her glasses for a bit answering finally. “Depends…”

Nox raised an eyebrow, "Oh?  Depends on what?"

“Are you Stavros Noxblade, and do you do thievin’ work?”

Nox hemmed and hawed for a moment before speaking, "Yes, and...well, to answer your second question, in some ways some of the things I do can be like some of the things that a thief might do... but mostly what I steal is women's hearts. But- But if you need locks opened without Seaforium, or stolen property recovered, or... well, most of the time I can help!”

Pixi’s eyebrows didn't move an inch, “Right, and I'm made of diamonds.” She tucked her glasses into the dip of her cleavage, with another POP of bubble gum to break the silence, “Well, in any case, I'm in the market for someone to retrieve something that was stolen from me. Preferably without Seaforium,  though that's more so we don't restart the war than any need for subtly.”

“I can do that, I think. Why don't we go somewhere to discuss it, Miss...?"

Pixi extended her hand with a smirk, a business card tucked in between her fingers, “Pixisticks. Name's Pixisticks, but people just call me Pixi.”

Nox didn't immediately shake her hand or take the car. Instead, he kissed her hand, focusing on her fingers rather than the leather. “Well, it is a business doing pleasure with you... I mean, a pleasure doing business with you, Pixi.” It was surprising, seeing any kind of gentlemanly behavior among her own kind, and it immediately but the blue-haired woman on edge. 

"Well Nox, would you like to discuss terms over drinks?" She didn't wait for his answer, heading out the door without him. 

Nox gave a toothy grin, ushering her out of the building, "Lead on!"

She took them to the Salty Sailor, the only tavern in Booty Bay and a beloved one for many an alcohol connoisseur. It was a nice place to be sure, not anything like the regular dive bars and grungy halls that is the usual of goblin establishments. Here, hardwood floors that extended into paneled walls still carried the faint whiff of the barkeep Nixxrax's spilled concoctions. Extra chairs had been brought in from upstairs to accommodate revelers of the new year, who had come to party in the famous bar. Thankfully they didn't hog up all the available seating, and Pixi was able to grab a table away from the loose-lips of drunkards and the keen ears of other, more sober goblin staff. Nox later joined her, having stopped by Skindle to order food, a [Junglevine Wine] for her, and a [Cherry Grog] for himself - something which Pixi had not told him to do, and made note of his actions. Still, she wasn't going to refuse a free meal, though she did have super-cool the drink with her ice arcana, having warmed considerably between pour and sip.

Nox waited until the waiter came and went with their food before he asked, "So.. what is it you are looking for me to retrieve, and who has it?" He specifically did not ask for proof of providence.

Casually, as to not draw attention to it, Pixi reached into the pocket of her overalls and removed a metal saucer. Its purpose was revealed when she placed it on the table, the disk came to life with a holographic image of a gem, cut in a three-sided triangular style.

“And how many of them are there?” Nox asked between sips.

“Nine in total. All together they're no bigger than your hand and redder than blood. I had to have them imported all the way over from Uldum.”

(Uldum rubies, redder than blood)

Nox took up the disk, committing the shape and cut of the gem to memory, pondering the possibilities for what the gemstones might be used. “Huh.  And where are they now?”

“In a 'nother engineer's lab, that insufferable blueprint stealing bitch!” Pixi slammed her drink on the table in frustration, which Nox chuckled at.

“So you HAD them, and then lost them to the gnome?  Rather careless of you. really, but understandable; some folks just have itchy fingers.” Itchy fingers were something that Nox had a visceral understanding of.

The blue-haired women glowered over the rim of the cup, “I resent that remark. I didn't lose them, the armed courier I hired got distracted by some hussy and they were lifted off of him. 

There was another thing that Noxblade had a visceral understanding of, but he kept his mouth shut.

She continued muttering on, “Does serve me right, though, not making the trip myself. They would've been in Dalaran by now!”

“Well, that was careless of him, then.  So you live in Dalaran?”

“No, but the runecarver who was going to inscribe them with the runes needed to unlock their potential does…” Pixi paused, putting down the drink much more gently than before, “Hey, how did you know it was a gnome?”

“Well…” Nox began, “You said it was taken by ‘an insufferable blueprint stealing bitch’. There are only two races that do Engineering with a fel, and those are gnomes and goblins. If it was a goblin, the ‘insufferable blueprint stealing bitch’ would have gone without saying…

She shrugged, “Eh, fair enough. Be odd if I was talking about one of those extra shiny goats.”

Whipping out a notepad, Nox started to write some things down, “So... where is her lab?  Ironforge? New Tinkertown?  Old Tinkertown?”

“New Tinkertown. Goes by the name Twizzlerie.” Pixi spat on the ground in disgust.

“...what a sweet-sounding name... I mean for a dire villain such as she must undoubtedly be.” He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact as Pixi’s eyes burned with a wave of icy anger. “What?”

“Ya know I can do to your brain what I did to this glass, right?” She replied, eyeing him up and down.

Nox gulped. He could not but help but find her threat as sexy as heck. eyes Pixisticks with a combination of both lust and fear. “So you're one of those ‘white mice and pixie dust’ folks? I presume no relation…

“I am, but I will have you know that my army knife has a laser attachment that will melt a hole in your brain just as well as an ice lance.”

He sneered in response, which was repaid with a sneer from Pixisticks. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're dangerous, I get that - doesn't matter to me how you blow my brains out, although my brains are not my best attribute. I figure I am safe enough until after I get you the stones.”

She snorted, “Well maybe you do have some sense to you! Alright buster, give me ya terms.

“Payment on delivery and not my per diem rate I assume?  All expenses paid, no exceptions. How do I contact you to make the delivery?”

Pixisticks nodded along in agreement, her nose twitching when she heard something she didn't like. "Payment on delivery, including expenses. I'll pay you a little somethin' in advance if only so I don't gotta hear you whine about it, and a little extra afterward if I don't have to hear about any "accident" occurring later. You catch my drift?"

"So no firewood accidents, no driftwood accidents, no accidents at all. Gotcha. Those would have been extra anyway."

The deal settled, their previous sneers turned into grins, and they shook hands while Pixi called a waiter over for more drinks.