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Rimsala smirked at her handiwork as she flipped through the pages of Wrathgate, a right-wing Forsaken magazine that has gained increasing popularity amongst the Eastern Horde in recent years.

Thuggery in Hardwrench!

The “cross-faction” organization known as the Anywhere Anytime Messenger Service (AAMS) has finally been exposed for what it truly is! A decadent, corrupt criminal gang with Alliance leanings. Eye witness reports have been substantiated with photographic evidence provided from one of the AAMS’s recent “Lounges”.

Drunken and disorderly conduct!

[A picture of a goblin woman in a blue and white dress chugging a bottle, with numerous empty ones laying on the ground around her. The woman is flushed and clearly intoxicated.]

Abuse towards elementals!

[A picture of a partially squished sand element with a hulking troll man and a white haired goblin woman standing besides it. The troll has a distorted look on his face while the goblin woman‘s mouth is open as if she is laughing.]

Bizarre experiments for augmenting Alliance warriors!

[A picture of a goblin man in a red hat firing some kind of magical gun at a partially transparent night elf. The elf is bathed in the light of this gun, seeming to absorb its energies.]

Pimpery!

[A picture of an attractive blood elf woman wearing a dress with an open front. Standing besides her is a blood elf man scowling, his arms folded as he looks directly at the camera.]

Savage treatment of customers!

[A blurry picture of a large spirit wolf barking aggressively at the one taking the photo. There are several other people in the picture and they either are ignoring or seem to be encouraging the shaman‘s aggression.]

Indecent hair styles!

[A picture of the back of a pandaren woman with a particularly long ponytail.]

We’ve even interviewed one successful business woman who swore repeatedly that the AAMS was in fact a smuggling organization. Another encountered its members in Ratchet recently and stated “They looked like a gang to me”.

Clearly such corruption should not be tolerated in the new Horde being formed under Warcheif Vol’jin. To think that this group has recently opened a office in Orgrimmar is outright despicable! Wrathgate hereby calls upon all its members to harass every gathering place the AAMS can be found. Their absurdly titled “Armistice Ball” takes place in less than a week and it is a particularly ideal target.

“Whatcha reading, Riley?”

The portly human flushed a very bright shade of pink while trying to shove the magazine under his seat. “Oh, nothing, Miss, nothing at all.”

Suspiciously, Azheira narrowed her eyes, but the pale blues had a glint of humor in them. “Oh, Riley, it’s all right. I am well aware that you men like to look at -those- kind of magazines every once in a while. Just as long as you haven’t taken any from stable master’s secret stash, I’m sure there will be no repercussions.”

Riley’s round features now strongly resembled those of a tomato. “Miss Azheira! I don’t – I do not look at those---“ Heavily, he sighed. “It involves you, Miss.”

Instantly, all traces of humor vanished from her expression. “Theodore Riley! I have never posed for one of those sorts of rags and it is very ungentlemanly of you to imply it.”

Clearly mortified, Riley coughed so hard he began choking. Azheira made no move to help.

“Well, Miss, you might not actually remember if you had…” Noting the fury building in her eyes, he amended quickly, “But, of course, you haven’t. I did not mean to say any such thing. Certainly not. No. You are not that sort of woman. Right. Exactly.”

“Riley. Just what is going on?”

His eyes closed briefly as he tugged the magazine out from under his sizable leg. “Page Six, Miss.”

She was almost afraid to take it from him. Hesitantly, she thumbed her way to the sixth page. A loud gasp ripped from her throat. “Why that sneaky, conniving, uncouth goblin! She gave me the film…apparently not! OH!”

Riley just sat there, looking flustered and flushed as she stormed around the garden bench. “I’m sure it will be all right, Miss. No one reads this trash anyway.”

The magazine was already in shreds by the time Azheira reached the doors to the house. Without a backward glance, she called out, “Not a word to the Old Man, Riley!”

"My lord, a publication has surfaced that may be of interest."

Taeril'hane Ketiron looked up from writing in his journal in some annoyance. "Honestly, Kellik, not another smear rag out of Bilgewater Harbor. Goblin fiction - no offense - is getting a little tedious."

"Actually, this particular smear rag is based out of the Undercity," Kellik, his goblin captain of the guard, replied. "And while it doesn't mention you, you do appear in at least one or two of the pictures on page six."

Pictures? Ketiron frowned for a moment...until he remembered that psychotic undead goblin had been running around Hardwrench Hideaway with a camera. He held out a hand. "Give it to me." Kellik handed him the copy of Wrathgate magazine; Ketiron recognized it (by virtue of its very title) to be the favored "literature" of the Forsaken hardliners who didn't care that the plague was banned or that it killed both living and undead at the place their little magazine was named for...

Flipping to the page Kellik had indicated, Ketiron's eyes went wide with outrage. "That stupid, arrogant little maggot-sack! These people don't give a damn about the Horde, and think Vol'jin as Warchief is a joke...and this lying witch was the one doing the squashing of the elementals. That's why Taz was about to rip her head off..." He crumpled the publication in his hands and threw it into a nearby brazier. "Doldrums, that's all it is."

"Doldrums?"

"We're all bored because the war's over, we're just waiting for the next one. And it's coming, Kellik. But until then, we have to deal with nonsense like this." He indicated the crumpled up magazine, disintegrating in the fire. But, not being one to leave falsehoods unchallenged, Ketiron took up his quill again and wrote on a piece of fresh parchment, in blocky but still-readable text rather than his usual "cultured" style to avoid suspicion, and had it sent by Kitrik to Wrathgate's offices in the Undercity.

Many of you may have been introduced to so-called "thuggery" in Hardwrench Hideaway, where the AAMS people supposedly abuse elementals and conduct experiments to enhance Alliance warriors. What the taker of the pictures - a certain undead goblin, whose name we never quite caught, but claims to have been the assistant of someone called "Brag" - did not tell you is that the situations so vividly described in "gory" detail are woefully lopsided. Let us review:

Drunken and disorderly conduct? It's a lounge event, and drinks are served quite frequently at this event. Drunkenness is par for the course. However, the bottles contained a "beverage" that is not alcoholic in nature; they are in fact mana potions. The female goblin in the blue dress is a mage, and while she was most certainly drunk - yes, you can get drunk on mana potions, they're the most common intoxicant for magic users - she was hardly disorderly. The only disorderly conduct was by the photographer, who was escorted from the premises twice in the course of the evening.

Which brings us to the point about "bizarre experiments for augmenting Alliance warriors" - the elf in question was in fact the goblin mage. I had initially been of the belief (my attention otherwise diverted and not realizing the true cause) that it had been an engineer who suffered a serious transporter accident. However, she informed me upon being "detoxed" by the goblin male in the red hat that the transformations were in fact the result of her potions. The mage also turned into a blood elf female and a gnome at various points in the evening.

And that bit about the abuse of elementals, and the spirit wolf cornering our photographer: What she conveniently forgot to mention is that the sand elemental in question had in fact been abused by the photographer herself, who showed a blatant disregard for the power of the elemental spirits. The "hulking troll male" and the spirit wolf are in fact one and the same individual, a powerful shaman, who took offense at the uncalled-for disrespect displayed by the photographer. If there had been "savage treatment of customers", the photographer would likely have been shredded like pulled pork.

And lastly (for I will not dignify the "indecent hair styles" bit with a response other than this), "pimpery" is not a word...and one must understand that compared to the northern reaches of the East, Stranglethorn is a tropical climate all year. The blood elf lady in question chose comfort over function, and the blood elf man next to her had merely been in conversation with her when it was rudely interrupted, again by the photographer.

In conclusion, a picture is said to be worth a thousand words, but it can also be twisted into something one wishes to see, and those thousand words into something that one wishes to hear. The photographer's grossly misinterpreted recounting of the events of this night is a testament to that.

Not all are so easily fooled.

HISTORICUS

"Silvertip!"

Grizweld Hopper's voice boomed across the bull pit of The Inside Trade and Renzly looked up from the magazine she was idly flipping through. The editor-in-chief stomped his way toward her, brandishing the latest copy of Wrathgate in the air.

"What's up, chief?" she drawled, ignoring his theatrics.

"Why aren't you on this?" He slammed the magazine down on her desk, flipped open to some article.

"Hey, I didn't realize we were covering Forsaken news, too. Part of your expansion?"

"No! I mean, yes, we are, but not that. Take a look, why dontcha?"

She gave him a suffering sigh and deigned to look at the page, and immediately stifled her shock. A very familiar place in Hardwrench. The white hair of a particular goblin jumped out at her, though she quickly recognized Swizzelle and several other faces, as well.

"Meh, it's just a bar night," she waved it off. It's only a Forsaken magazine...

"Just a bar night?" Hopper snorted. "A bar night hosted in a goblin town, hosted by one of the biggest competitors in the open market based in a goblin port, and attended by some rather well-known names. You've been slacking, SIlvertip. Not to mention that the AAMS recently re-opened their offices in Orgrimmar- that's big news- and you've not brought me one picture yet."

"They're not a goblin company, figured ya weren't that interested."

"We gotta expand our base if we're gonna be competitve. 'Sides, didn't they have a goblin manager at one point-"

"Nah, she's an elf," Renzly quickly corrected. "They've got a few clerks and such who are goblins, but nothing important."

Hopper just grinned conspiratorially. "So, offices in a goblin city and yet not promoting goblin interests? That's a story. And maybe we should be investigating these claims, stir up some interest. Get me some pictures, Silvertip."

He tapped the magazine again. "Or, if you're just going to keep slacking, maybe I'll find out who this photographer is and offer him your job."

"Hey, that's not-"

"You're only as good as your last scoop, toots. Get on it." Hopper turned at started yelling at some poor copy editor who happened to pass his line of sight, leaving Renzly to fume at the left-behind Wrathgate article.

A letter was swiftly sent in response to Ketiron’s message.

To Whom It May Concern:

We at Wrathgate greatly appreciate your interest and support of our publication. Please take comfort in knowing that all contributions undergo the highest level of scrutiny before being edited and released to the public. We can assure you that all the information conveyed in our recent article on the dangerous and rogue organization know as the AAMS is completely accurate and came from a highly reputable source.

Your continued patronage is greatly appreciate.

Dark Lady watch over you,
Wrathgate Chief Editor

[Enclosed with the envelope are several Wrathgate promotional stickers]

Rimsala grinned broadly as she reviewed her written up statement for The Inside Trade. That Silvertip girl she met yesterday was a real cutey and would no doubt be ecstatic when her bosses gave her a huge promotion because of this. At the very least she would be grateful enough to go out with her on three dates. Where their romance went from there… well… Rimsala fantasized about the many possibilities, all of which were pleasing.

To The Inside Trade:

Just wanted ta go on record that I, the writer of this statement, am the photographer for the recent Wrathgate article on the AAMS. I can not only assure ya that the article is one hundred percent true but provide some proof of it as well. I’ve got some pics I didn’t give ta my Wrathgate associates an’ I’m sure The Inside Trade will make good use of ‘em.

[A blurry photo of a blood elf man and woman eagerly examining a camera of obvious goblin make.]

In this first photo ya can see members of the AAMS destroying a camera they outright bullied me inta givin’ them. These cowards are actively tryin’ ta silence all dissentin’ opinions an’ censor the press! Thankfully I was able ta give ‘em my spare camera an’ barely escaped with the real scoop on my primary camera. Surely The Inside Trade can appreciate what a horrific violation this is ta the freedom of speech.

[A crisp photo of a blood elf man sitting on top of a keg. He is sternly looking directly at the camera.]

This bub is one of their “shields”… more like goons if ya ask me. He’s the same one violatin’ my camera in the other photo. The AAMS always has some knuckle dragger like ‘em menacingly overseein’ their events, just waitin’ for an excuse ta oppress people.

Anyway, as one goblin ta another I know ya can see from all the evidence just what sorta group this AAMS truly is. I’d also like ta point out that a total babe callin’ herself Silvertip asked me ta send ya this statement. I’ve still got more photos if ya are interested an’ ya might even able ta get your hands on ‘em… if ya can arrange a date between me an’ Silvertip. She knows of a girl called Rimsala who is able ta get in touch with me.

Remember. The truth can’t be silenced.

Sincerely,
The Lone Goblin Gal

At Hello Maggy Headquarters in Orgrimmar, Spitz the Manager brought in the latest publications of interest to the Maggot Lord.

"Here ya go, boss", the goblin cracked." We got us another product placement add in Run Away Little Girl magazine, yer new Red Ridin' maggot makeup line is going' ovah gangbustahs. Da Alliance feminins love it! In For the Horde, they made a new comparison between us and biological terrorists, due ta our marketin' in Alliance lands. Yer new copy o' Play Goblin arrived, with a secrit nip shot of Gentyl in it, page 56. Also, de AAMS got mentioned in Wrathgate, again."

Abominus collected the periodicals and piled them on his work bench.

"Yesss, but where isss my Waterpolo Monthly, yesss? How did the Booty Bay Piratesss fare after the invessstigation into game fixing, yesss?"

Spitz looked around for a moment. "Err, de mail room staff is lookin' at it, arguin' ovah de point spreads, bosss. I'll get it for ya, pronto." He scurried out of the room.

Abominus sighed, and went back to his work bench. He began adding several random items into a cauldron, and stirred. A wisp of smoke tried desperately to escape, but he swatted it back into the cauldron.

"None of that, now, yesss. Thisss latessst batch mussst be ready in time for the Ball, yesss. I will read my magazinesss, to get caught up on thingsss, yesss."

"No way. Not in a million years," Silvertip protested. "You're not payin' me enough."

Grizweld chuckled. "What if I gave ya-"

"STILL ain't enough."

Silvertip leveled a glare on him that indicated that she was deadly serious, and in her case, he suspected "deadly" was not an exaggeration. Still, he was not going to let some subordinate intimidate him in his own office.

"Then I expect ya to come up with a different way ta get more information," he ordered her.

He'd just approved the final copy for the latest print of The Inside Trade, which included all the pictures he'd received from the "Lone Goblin Gal" and her letter... less the part about Silvertip and her contact, of course. It wouldn't do to print the source of their leads.

"I don't think I'm going ta get any more from her," Silvertip said dryly.

"Then go poke inta the other side- the AAMS. They've got that big shindig comin' up. Great time ta have an article about them. And ya know, so we can be 'fair' and 'balanced' and et cetera. It'll be great follow up for sales."

"Hey, I signed on ta be a photographer, not an investigator."

"Investigative photographer's a higher pay grade."

"Don't care. Get someone else ta poke around the AAMS, I ain't doin' it."

The other goblin crossed her arms in a surly manner to protest the unasked for assignment, but Grizweld's fingers tapped on his desk thoughtfully. He hadn't become editor-in-chief because he could name twenty-three ways to blow up a printing press.

He'd have to keep an eye on her.

"Get out of here before I decide you're too much trouble to keep 'round."

"I've heard that before," Silvertip muttered with the audacity to sound amused. She slipped out his door before he could do more than shake a fist at her.

Rimsala continued to be pleased by her handiwork as she read through the latest The Inside Trade. Those pompous, elitist AAMS fools were getting what they deserved and not a moment too soon. Still, her recent efforts had certainly ruffled more than a few feathers besides just in the AAMS. She would need to keep a low profile for a bit and bide her time from the shadows.

However... Rimsala dearly hoped at least part of that time could be spent with that Silvertip girl.