Gadgetzan, a city of opportunity. That's what they call it at least. The factuality of that statement is more than debatable. Yeah its full of opportunity, but only if you know how to take it for yourself. Most don't and end up as a sack of coins for someone's taking or sleeping with the murlocs. Something that should be advised against. The scaly bastards tend to make for less than negotiable bedfellows. Though hey if fish is your thing go for it, whatever I don't judge.

Now boats go in and out of that city every day. They brought in and sent out every little do-da you could want. Potions, armor, pistols, explosives, exotic animals, and anything to needed to make them. They bring as many different people in as cargo through to. As it happens on a fine day, that choose to have shadows skies, howling winds, and rather chilled though the light rain did make this singular gentleman remember home. A gilnean you see. A wolf blood from the rainy beacon of industry which is no more.

He simply watched as the port grow ever closer. He saw it as him being taken ever closer to his destiny. The shabby deck of a less than graceful steamboat being his mighty steed was just a formality. His name was Otto Winterhill.

Now Winterhill was what some would say not a very strapping lad, a thin frame adorning a rather average height. This was not helped by the fact he wore a hand me down shirt and trencher a few sizes too large for him. It never helped that he had a blade and pistol weighing down the sides. They were the kind thing you need in this city. Well, guns, terrible soda, and a bunch of ugly jade figurines.

He looked on with golden twinkles in his eyes as he saw a hope for a better life. He saw the chance to make the coin that he never had before. Coin that made those few slipped into the folds of his flap cap seem like a child's pence. They fit in their tightly and securely, while lesser coin sit in his pocket. One day he would have too much for his little cap, and that would be just the start of it all.

He had worked for months to scrounge together the coins for the passage from Westfall to Stormwind and then book a spot on a trade ship onto the city. He even worked as a deckhand on that for a bit to get a little extra food. Times had been tight and war had made him an orphan like so many others, but now as a young man he saw a chance, though greasy, to make his way in the world. Damn fool did not know what he had gotten himself into.

I felt bad for the little bastard. Mostly because he is me. I was staring out across the water from the bow of the ship. A grim little vessel called Crypts Embrace with a captain and half a crew both dead and still kicking. At first the company had been less than comforting and I ended up with more than one sleepless night with my back against the door. I had to be sure not of those skelly bell bottoms got there grubs to bump me off.. After the first week though, I found sleeping much more promising prospect and that these skellies were not that bad. They just gave me a bad itch to be about.

Now though I could see the beginnings of the city through the morning fog as the spray of the salted sea. It was a smell that I loved, the only problem is that it made the cotton take on this horrid smell. I was not a fan of smelling like dog, well more so than usual.

After about an hour of mindless sweeping the deck, I readied finally step off that barely functioning bucket of bolts and steam almost as soon as they set down the gangplank. I would that have gotten off even faster, though the captain had stopped me before I got the chance. He gave me an extra pocket full of coin, the last gift of a generous pay master and captain. Not a bad man for a bag of bones.

From the top I began my descent into the harbor. I looked about the busy port with hope and I must admit some deal of fear. I wondered how many were like me, a single soul surrounded by thousands of products and resources from lumber to steel. We were another commodity, but I knew I would be so much more. Steel heeled boots snapped down on the stone with a satisfying click. I let go of a breath that I didn't even know that I had been holding.

What happened next was the only nature course of action. The quest to search for some proper foods had begun. Slipping the bundle of silver into my pocket, I went headlong into the breach and hoped for the best

I worked my way through the shipyard as best as I could. It was a delicate dance to slip through the crowd of dockman, shipwrights, seaman, skippers, and factory workers. More than once several crates and their attentive handlers nearly smashed me into a tasteful crimson pulp. I was lucky though, as I made it though with only a couple of bumps and bruises. My purse made also made it through, just as heavy as it had been. It was helped by my hands on my weapons, though this was more to keep me from losing them. It probably sent the wrong idea to some, but my stomach was calling the shots.

The Bucky Wiz and Boom. A shabby little joint that was just off the dock proper. The building was not large, though it did have more than enough to be a rather nice tavern with rooms upstairs. Still one of my favorite speakeasy for some grub and gabbin. Taking a small pack of coins from my hat, I pushed open the door to the tavern. It took off a bit of a push before it would opened the hinges crying for some sod to bump them off.

I wish I could be courteous enough to call it a fine establishment. Calling it an establishment legally was itself a stretch. That's a story for another day though. There was a charm to the place though. The gin mill had sandstone walls which were always covered in strange trinkets the owners would take as payment barring coin. The hearth was toasty and most of the drinks digestible. It smelled enough of blood and wine to cover up the other less delightful smells, it also had the strangest hint of lilac and peppermint. It also did not hurt that the band was swinging. Suffice to say it was no night in karazhan but it was quite a jake.

The bar tender or in this case tenders of that establishment were a goblin and a troll. I saw the latter first due to her height. A full head taller than most men. She was willowy as if made of twisted vines, though for her part that was all muscle. You would hardly tell she were a woman with how she dressed in baggy and obscuring silks. Her short hair did little to ease masters. If not for a smaller body and distinctly feminine face.

She moved around the tavern dropping off the drinks to a few. For the most part she just grunted at someone and they would come up for their own drink. How she choose these people was something of her own matter of choosing, I would hazzard. They were deep throaty grunts that always seemed to have some meaning to them. I was damned if I had to translate her myself back then.

A nose that seemed tiny for his kind though that was still a thumb's length from his face. His ears went straight back and were long enough to make an elf get inadequacy issues. The pint sized fellow was dressed all Spiffy in a tight form fitting white silk button up shirt and pants. Looking at the pint size would leave you half blind. A little plaque above and behind him, among all the bottles of drinks that looked either good or like that would kill you and sometimes both, and it said in a stylized cursive Welcome.

They were an odd pair that caught the eye as soon as you saw them and you saw them about the time you begun to open. I made my way through the tavern and took a sit as the bar, I raised up too little fingers to signal the goblin who began to waddle his green dogs over. The short little goblin had to walk along a bench so he could see over the counter, yet it got him to a good height. Or at least letting him meet you eye to eye.

"Welcome back to… wai…." He took a moment a moment to look at me, blinking for a few moments. It is clear that he had not had anyone but a regular in some time. "Do I know yah?" The goblin though never gave me a chance to respond to his conversation, "na na, I neva' forget a face ask bucky 'ere." The hunchbacked troll, presumably Bucky, looked away from his work and gave a small series of grunts which make up troll gabbin "Well that's that." The confident goblin declared.

Taking that moment of lull in the conversation, "Yeah I am new in town. Just got off the boat. Would not mind a drink?"

"Good on ya" The little green man gave a nod, as he took up a glass and then set it back, "so what do they call ya?" He picked up another and set it against the light as if looking at some tiny imperfection in it.

"Otto," I answered and left it at that even as he looked to me for a bit more. He although did not seem to try much for my last name. Some one calling for a drink down off to my right. A glass of Stormwind brandy, if I recall.

The bartender nodded and took a bottle off the shelves behind him, turning his head about to continue. "Wizzero Boomatin the third," he declared after taking the bottle and returning to the counter, "but the lads and lasses call me Wiz." He said as he slowly set a glass down and began to pour the order before Bucky grunted at him. He took another glass from the counter and poured it aswell. The Troll taking the two glasses off to someone. I am not sure it was even the man who asked for them, but she brought the glasses to someone.

Wiz Boom and Bucky. Well that explained the name, I had to admit there was an odd convenience in their names." Well it's nice to meat ya, now what's your poison?"

"Poison?"

"What do ya drink boy? We got giggle water from across the world, less watered down than anywhere else. You got my word." He smiled with a wide toothy grin and blinked at me. I was not sure if he was smiling with pride or was lying.

"Tea if 'ave it," I asked as I had not had a proper brew in months. The puddle of brackish water they made me drink at sea, made me wish for the piss they called tea in Stormwind.

"Noodle juice? Been spendin' a lot of time dem bloody pandas?" Well, Bucky appeared almost a soon as he had finished and smacked her companion on the back of the head, this resulted in the small goblin to have his face smashed into the counter. Well I say face, but mostly his nose broke the hit. "damn darlin' don't have to knock my block off." Wiz muttered rubbing his not so little appendage as it began to bleed a bit. "Bloody Bearcat. We got anything to make tea."

Bucky called out something from the taverns back in her estranged tongue and Wis nodded. "How much do you want?"

"A kettle and cup if you do not mind, what'll be the cost?" A few sly fingers slipping into my cap and pulling my coins out.

"twelve pieces" A price I promptly paid.

The goblin took up the coins, promptly bit each of the single coins. He seemed to smile as he tasted the gold on his tongue. Once he was done counting them and quickly slipping them into his pockets, got back to cleaning his glasses "So what brings you here"

"They call this the city of opportunity…." Opportunity, home, gold and more, those were the things I wanted, I wanted them more than anything else and I would have this. I did not know how

"And how!" Wizboom set out a small cup for my while the tea brewed. "Ahh but everyone has a story. What brings you here? No man comes to this town without a tale to tell."

"One in which I guess most gab to you?"

"Your choice, but if you can't speak with a stranger who can you." Wizboom shrugged at the thought slowly cleaning his glass cups and watching me. His big nose and sly beady eyes staring at me intently. I sighed a bit in my head, knowing this was one of those moments where he would look at me, I would look at him, and I would relent without protest… Wizboom looked at me, I looked at him, and the two of us sat in silence. "Come now lad, do you know how long I have been working. I would like something to take my mind off it."

"I can't say much. I have not had much since I was young." It was true to some degree, I had not had much, it's not to say though there was not more to the story. The smell of the tea began to fill my nose, It was faintly wisping its way from the back. The water was starting to simmer and steam most likely. It was not just the smell of herb and leafy though, but there was precious amber.

What compelled me to continue I can not say, but I did even as my audience passed me a bit of water while I waited. "I was born on this little island called Zul'Dare. It's a nice little place, quieter than most."

"Sounds nice"

"It was. The air was so salty and the water as blue as sapphire. The traders brought the finest things to the market. You could trade the fine fish scales to the jewel maker and use the coppers to buy sweets." I spoke the words with pride, it had taken many hours to find the right scales but high elf sweets were worth every hour. "Nothing compared to when the sun went down you could hear the song of the night as it plays out from the silverpine and you can listen to it and know it, but nothing could touch you."

"So why did you leave?"

"The war of the north and the invasions by the forsaken." The words left a bitter taste him my mouth. They are horrid things, not all but most of them. Even their kind though did not compare to the hell they were forced to flee too. A phantom pain flared in my shoulder. " I had to leave by myself," a topic I did not "I made my way to Stormwind and earned my keep saving my money than I heard of here." I did not even notice I was holding my breath as I played with my hands, but it passed from my lips as a steaming pot was set down on the table by the troll

"Well, you sound like you do need a drink." Wizboom took up my cup and began to pour the liquid gold into the silver mug in front of me. "Cheers lad," Wiz cheered as I took up the cup. The tea breathed wonderfully and I took a careful sip of that amber wine tea after blowing across the surface.

Well, it was not watered down to say that he was good to his word at least. Needed a bit of sugar though. "It is fairly good. My thanks."

"I only take thanks in tips." To which the goblin blinked as if to note it as a joke. After a bit of silence Wizboom little fingers began to snap over and over again as if something was caught on his sharp pointed tongue,"You one of them gilnean dogs? Wargines?"

"Worgen," Bucky called out in the first proper word in common that had passed from her lips.

"Yeah them?"

"I am," I admitted looking at the amber reflection staring back at me, the golden image of a dear boy. Little Otto, barely a man, there smiled up at him as he brushed his hair away. His hand was rubbing his right shoulder, comforting a scar that would never heal. The poor boy had yet to realize he was doing it. "Clothes fit better this way though."

Wizboom gave me a knowing nod and did not press on the topic. "Well, even so, I've been on the lookout for some muscle, if you would like a place to stay and a steady pay."

"Muscle for what?"

"I got things that need moving with few questions, and I could use a bit more of the hand here. And I can't let the fresh face like yourself become a dewdropper," Wizboom gave me a small shrug, "besides Bucky seems to like ya." This earning a confirming, yet another unintelligible, grunt from the troll, though it sounded kindly enough. "So you work around here, get the place in the back."

"When do I start?"

And that's how I started in Gadgetzan. Not the opportunity I was hoping for, but what'cha gonna do? It's a hell of a place though.

I started this after playing a bit of Hearthstone in the weekly brawl all about Gadgetstan. Its kinda cool and a neat idea for a magical world in the 20s and such. Hearthstone is kinda nice as it adds what ifs to the lore that is taking more risk than warcraft. Heck even ideas like Ragnros being a lord of light is kinda cool

Check out my works at fictionpress mostly my story "Trials of the Witch Hunter"