*(A half-crumpled scrap of parchment is found partway-hanging out of a nearby mailbox - whoever wrote it apparently was too hurried to make sure the letter was properly sealed..)*

Bosslady:

So far, my plans are working out pretty good. While the pale makeup is likely giving me a rash and the wigs are itchy as well as garish, so far, the enemy seems convinced I'm just a slightly-above-average-sized gnome - if they found out I was really a goblin, this whole infiltration plan would be haywire in a heartbeat. I just hope my ears don't get a permanent cramp from being pinned back so long.

Anyway, it turn out we were right - they're planning to retake their city. Don't ask me how they'll deal with the radiation and whatnot, I haven't a clue. I almost feel sick, hearing them cheering "For Gnomeregan!" and whatnot all the time, like they're convinced such little squeaky whining will somehow turn into a fearsome battlecry overnight.

The only really bothersome part about this whole thing is their happy little "tinkertown" tucked away in a corner of Ironforge here. While the rattling of engineering and the burbling of alchemy are echoes of home comfort, I have yet to hear one single explosion or catch the familiar scent of blasting-powder in the whole place! Seriously, how can they even live like this - the silence is driving me nutzo.

Anyway, I better keep this short (heheh) since a long note might get found too easy. Oh, and for the record, I really think you should've gotten a rogue for the job - hello, stealthiness? I expect hazard pay when this is all over. Maybe double. Stupid itchy clown-wigs.

- In gold we trust,

Nitrix Squibrocket

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