World of Warcraft®

-A large drawing would show the Tauren known as Bakun on the overly sized Parchment, on a nearby wall it would read '' Looking for some help to clean my hooves, no experiance is needed, just someone who is not scared of getting a little dirty, pays fifty gold coins, and a meaningful hug from Bakun himself'' -

-Somoen would come across this same message many times, as it was stuck on many local places such as bars, and walls, Etc. It seems this Tauren is really in need for someone to give his feet a little TLC-

Gimbol eyed the fourth or fifth copy of the large parchment he'd seen this evening. The only thing he could easily make out was the symbol for 50 gold coins.

Most of the passers by laughed and patted him on the head when he asked for a quick summary of the other contents. One particularly besotted Orc had even picked him up and hugged him as well as left black lipstick marks across his balding pate. (Not that he actually minded that much, her skin was a lovely shade of green, pleasantly scented of leather and copper, and delightfully textured against his cheek.)

After a few minutes a lanky ragdoll of an undead mage took pity on the poor Bruiser and read the rest of the contents aloud before stalking off into the darkness. Gimbol thanked him, so pleased at finally having some help, he didn't even try to sell him a three-legged stove or freshly burnished spork.

His mind immediately set to the problem of foot cleaning, without transferring the mess to himself. He turned to a passing citizen.

"Hey dere! Do ya know if Tauren are flammable?"

-The next parchment would be his dirty, smell hooves, a direct result of being to large to wash them himself. '' Come find me in the Wonderful Halls Of Silverwind. '' the sketch shows him sitting on the bech, right beside a fountain.-

Gimbol spotted the second poster.

"Now dat's a biggun."

He looked at one of the three legged cook pots, then back at the poster, then at the copper utensil, a combination spoon and fork. "Dat's not gonna be big enough," he muttered to himself, a new idea forming in his head.

"I'm gonna need a length of pipe," he stared at the poster, trying to make out where the large Tauren was located. He scratched his head. The fountain was pretty, but certainly didn't look like anything in Orgrimmar.

Gimbol stood on the dusty street, trying to sound out the words. "One day, I haz ta learn ta read dis junk."

He heard someone step up behind him, looking over him at the poster. "Hey youz! What does dis poster say?"

* After being in Silvermoon for days on end, a ghost town by all rights he grows tired of waiting, he goes out to have a little fun in Tol'barad, telling the local inn keepers if anyone should come looking for him tell them that he will be back soon*

'' Ugh, I'm so sick of having to wait so long... those Goblins should make something of use.. like something long I could use to wash my own feet with! '' -He grunted after a few momments of killing Alliance clearly lost in thought about his Hooves rather then the task at hand.-

After a while his head is over taken with the joy of battle, seeing his enemies fall before his large, might. He hacks, and slashes like a true bute, but not without learned tactics. Combat smart rather then wise, or just book smart. After the bloody battle is done though he growls and grunts out '' NOW MY HOOVES ARE ALL THE MORE DIRTY! ''

Gimbol sweated over the anvil, hammering the split end of the long copper tube "borrowed" from the stores aboard the Leviathan. A small midair hazard had grounded the once mighty airship weeks earlier, and it didn't look like it was going to be airborne again any time soon.

Just to be safe, Gimbol had waited until dark to complete his latest project. "Someone's got ta round up da Macaroons ta get dis bag back in da air."

Making sure none of the rest of the crew were watching, the Goblin tossed his cloth-wrapped chain mail over the rail and then jumped down beside it.

"Now to find dat customer," Gimbol shouldered the long tube with a pot on one end and a spork on the other.

"Hey, yous, which way to Silvermoon?"