Well it is an RP server after all! So here’s a little flavour text for those of you that like that kind of thing.
(Although in reality there’s no strings attached…honest… 
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Minnie took one last, long drag from her cigar and gritted her yellow teeth. She still had three more settlements to visit before the day was over, and she was already tired of having to deal with the local farmhands and militia and their seemingly endless suspicions and questions.
She tossed the butt to one-side and gestured to her “companions” to hoist her up via her throne, she felt being carried onto the scene was much more impressionable as an entrance. With a small sigh, she covered her eyepatch with her fringe and forced her mouth into a false grin – a “golden” smile, with far too many teeth showing. It was showtime.
Her bodyguards set her down in front of a large gathering of bewildered locals, attracted by the neon signs and fireworks her goons had set-up before her arrival. The ogres lowered the chair with a grunt, and stood menacingly either side of the goblin; ogres who were strong as an ox and dumber than a bag of rocks – the latter which she had used to pay their wages…
They say you have to spend money to make money, but Minnie saw no need to cut into her profits too deeply. The fine silks and expensive hair dyes and make-up were her only extravagance. The huge rock on her finger. Fake. The sceptre. Worthless. The crown. Stolen.
After all, the power is in the perception – leave the fancy titles and achievements to the fancy folks…the ones with deep pockets…
Minnie Pinchpenny, grubby goblin smuggler (and now slaver) didn’t instil much confidence, but Lady Pinchpenny of the Undercity, a REAL champion, and sent by the Warchief herself to find the true heroes of Azeroth right here in YOUR village! Wow! She almost believed it herself, Minnie certainly felt she was better looking than these so-called “Heroes of the Horde” she was impersonating. But then again, she thought she was better looking than any woman in Azeroth. Period.
Her mule had been tied around the back and out of sight. It’s back laden with hefty sacks of ill-gotten gains (and enough liquor to kill a small horse). There was only room for one particularly small passenger if a quick getaway was needed, but the goblin had been doing this now for a while, and she was pretty good at talking…
The onlookers had come on the promise of a greater future; one for the glory hunters, fortune seekers and what-not to come and prove their names and their worth. It was always the same story, and end result.
They had been told they would be fighting for the Banshee Queen, the prize a place of honour as the Dark Lady’s champion and all they needed to do was emerge victorious from the great Gladiator Arenas (read: illegal fighting pits) of Kalimdor and beyond. All lies of course, but Minnie didn’t have the heart to disappoint them…nor the wish to have said heart cut out if they, or the authorities, knew of her deception.
Besides, none of them ever lasted long enough to question when they would be crowned the Warchief’s “Lord of War”, or when they would be getting paid – Minnie liked to know the outcome of a fight beforehand, it was better for business that way (and for her purse), and few could survive single combat against a gronn…or six.
She called those that did survive her “keepers”. There was always money in an underdog, and she knew that more than most. But all good things must come to an end, and eventually all prized fighters start asking too many questions, or complain about their basic rights or freedoms and need to be “let go”. Minnie preferred sleeping draughts in their pre-match refreshments, it was the cleanest way – and gave the crowd something to wager on rather than having the unfortunate combatant killed outright.
The little goblin looked over the many spears, shields, axes and even pitchforks adorning the ever-growing crowd of hopefuls and sighed. Some of them were cute. Such a waste, somebody should probably warn them…
But it wouldn’t be her, oh no, that would be most unlady-like to interfere in such meddling affairs! She managed a wry smirk and thought no more about it as she readied her big speech – one that would bolster her ever-depleting army of willing idiots entranced by her siren song of “blood and honour”.
Hopping down from her throne, Lady Pinchpenny gave a curtsey and flashed her winning smile – there was hidden menace behind that smile;
“Ladies an’ Gentlemen a’ the Horde. I bring ya a gateway into the world a’ fortune, fame an’ glory. An alls ya gotsta do…”
She unfurled the parchment she had been clutching in her greedy mitt.
“Is sign on the dotted line…”
![:fist:](https://d1bg94bbsh66ji.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/fist.png?v=6" ":fist:")
)![:slight_smile:](https://d1bg94bbsh66ji.cloudfront.net/en/wow/images/emoji/twitter/slight_smile.png?v=6" ":slight_smile:")