"Although Rice Tong is not as honest and cute as other Pandaren, you can't despise his appearance. This is racial discrimination." Robbie was neither humble nor overbearing. He glared at Samuelson and protested:
"Pandaria is known for its fierce people and encourages intermarriage. Fan Tong is half Saurok. Fan Tong, show your graduation certificate to the general. It has Master Taran Zhu's paw print on it."
Fortunately, Robbie was prepared and found the merchant of unparalleled treasures, Griftah, to make a fake certificate of the Shado-Pan Monastery. Shanmiusen looked at it for a long time but couldn't find a single flaw. He then showed it to the Prophet Velen, Velen of course did not recognize the thing.
Shanmiusen slammed the certificate on the ground and stomped on it twice, then turned his gaze to the Brotherhood officers:
"Glubtok, the Ogre, foreman of the Deadmines, Head Mage of the Brotherhood, a wanted criminal. Men, seize him!"
"General, you've mistaken me for someone else again." Robbie stepped in front of Glubtok. "This is Dago, the Ogre ninja hired by the commander from Frostfire Ridge. I have his Follower's employment certificate here. Dago, greetings, General Shanmiusen."
"General, hello, it's a pleasure to meet you, Dago."
Glubtok grinned and extended his hand in a friendly manner, Shanmiusen quickly withdrew his hand.
"General, you can be rude, but you cannot despise the natives of Northrend. There is no law that forbids us from hiring Ogres as Followers," Robbie protested again.
Shanmiusen gritted his teeth in anger. "Who is this Goblin? Don't tell me he's not Helix, the bomb-wielding maniac from the Deadmines?"
"Of course not." Robbie said calmly, "This is Professor Evil Explosion from Steamwheedle Port."
"Damn it, don't think I don't know, Professor Evil is a female Goblin." Shanmiusen yelled at Robbie.
"General, you may not know this, but the Goblins waiting to be hired in Steamwheedle Port all call themselves Professor Evil Explosion. There are both men and women. Is that strange? Everyone is just trying to make a living. I have employment contracts issued by Steamwheedle Port as evidence."
Shanmiusen, furious, grabbed his hair and pointed at Reaper 5000, demanding, "Then tell me, what's with this harvester? Don't tell me you can hire harvesters in Northrend."
"General, you've mistaken him for someone else. This is Ziriak, Construct the Commander bought from a smuggler on Ashkarin Peak for a full five thousand gold coins. The Commander thought his appearance was stupid, so he modified his appearance. General, there's no rule against modifying Followers' appearances. If you don't believe me, I have the sales contract as proof."
"Proof, proof, very well, you were prepared." Shanmiusen glanced at the General Fangore: "You insist that he was Worgen hired from the tavern..."
Pshaw, Robbie wouldn't fall for that. Followers from the tavern can all be traced back to their origins; it's the hardest thing to fake.
"General, you're mistaken. He's not Worgen. This is Tiger Person, the Heizong, the younger brother of Skinner Jinzong. The Commander rescued him from Ironfist Harbor, and Heizong is grateful for his life-saving grace, so he swore to follow him to the death."
Worgen, Tiger Person, they're pretty much the same, enough to fool everyone.
Shanmiusen laughed in exasperation, "Not bad, not bad, you've got some nerve. So, how do you explain this Murloc? I don't recall Northrend having Murloc race, and you can't hire them in the tavern, can you?"
Cookies are indeed the biggest flaw, but that doesn't stump Robbie either.
"General, don't you recognize him?" Robbie feigned surprise, then exclaimed with realization, "No wonder! He's Nat Pagle, the most famous fishing master in Azeroth!"
Shanmiusen nearly coughed up blood. "You're saying he's Nat Pagle?"
"Yes, that's right. Oh dear, what a forgetful thing I am! I forgot to explain. Master Nat Pagle accidentally ate a poisonous mutated fish and turned into Murloc. He thinks it's great and doesn't want to turn back."
Cookie danced the Murloc dance, shouting, "I am Nat Pagle, I am Nat Pagle!"
Seeing that the Brotherhood's leaders couldn't find any flaws, Shanmiusen turned his attention to Vanessa's Followers.
He first looked at Kel'Thuzad, Kel'Thuzad then introduced himself, "I am Archmage Vargoth."
Robbie added, "My commander traveled all over Draenor in search of hiring Archmage Vargoth."
Shanmiusen had no suspicions; his attention was focused on Mograine and Whitemane.
"Those two scoundrels from Scarlet Monastery, suspected of being involved in multiple fraud cases in Lordaeron, come with me," Shanmiusen said coldly.
"General, you've mistaken me for someone else again. Please allow me to introduce you. This beautiful lady is the Stealth Sherry Hamby, and this handsome gentleman is none other than the infamous Leeroy Jenkins. The Commander and I ventured deep into the upper levels of Blackrock Spire and finally managed to rescue this hero."
Shanmiusen looked helpless and snorted coldly, "Very well, you are indeed a qualified Follower, sharp-tongued enough. I now need to deal with the problem of the fortress being severely oversized. This fortress is five times over the standard size. Everything before you is evidence. Let's see how you deny it. If you can't handle it, have your commander come see me."
"General, this is a misunderstanding," Robbie said with a smile.
"General, you're new here and unfamiliar with the situation, so I don't blame you. Let me introduce you: Qiyana Moonshadow, the heroine of the raid on the Dark Portal. Let us pay tribute to the hero."
Shanmiusen didn't understand what Robbie was doing, but he nodded as a sign of respect.
And for the first time, Velen opened his eyes wide.
"The heroes will live on forever; it was a fierce battle." Robbie sighed, "General, tell me, aren't the heroes who raided the Dark Portal the most qualified to be commanders?"
Shanmiusen did not answer.
Robbie continued, "The heroes need rest, so I've handed over the task of managing the fortress to my commander. There are five heroes in total, all with names and titles, and the authorization certificates are in my hands. Managing five fortresses is too troublesome, so let's just build one large fortress, which will also save the Alliance resources."
Shanmiusen clapped his hands and sneered maliciously, "It's said that there's a resourceful Follower in the Lunarfall, and seeing him today, it's certainly true. But no matter how you deny it, there's one thing you must remember: during the clash with Chief Ner'zhul at the Observatory, there were many Draenei present to testify. I wonder how you explain that?"
The trump card has finally been revealed.
Robbie would say that fighting Ner'zhul would be a disruption of peace.
To say that one is merely an observer or a passerby is to be cowardly or a deserter.
If Robbie denies that he and Ner'zhul were actually friends, then the battle was merely a flag-planting incident, and the crime would be treason.
Regardless of the circumstances, Shanmiusen had every reason to arrest Robbie.
It's truly impossible to defend oneself.
This is what is meant by "if you want to condemn someone, you can always find a pretext."
So that's how it is. Everything was just a setup; this was the real trump card.
Robbie glanced at the Prophet Velen, Velen remained expressionless, eyes closed, seemingly lost in thought.
The atmosphere grew increasingly tense; Hogger had already revealed his claws, and the Brotherhood members were all ready for battle.
If the negotiations fail, Robbie will keep them all here, leaving no one behind—this was pre-arranged.
Including the Prophet Velen.
Robbie suddenly sensed a murderous aura emanating from him, Velen abruptly opened his eyes, a powerful force filling the surrounding space.
But soon two forces restrained Velen.
One of them was Kel'Thuzad. Velen looked at this "Archmage Vargoth" with surprise and felt a terrifying power that was actually comparable to his own.
Another aura emanated from him, appearing and disappearing intermittently, but it exerted even greater pressure than that of "Archmage Vargoth." Velen felt as if he were being pricked by thorns, and sweat poured down his forehead. He sensed a threat to his life.