Plunder

"It should be a problem with the Copper Regulators. One of them failed, which stopped the Frost Deflector cooling the Truesilver Transformer from working. The instability in the Truesilver Transformer then reduced the output of the Force Reactive Disk providing radiation shielding for the Gold Power Core. The stream of radioactive particles emitted by the Gold Power Core accelerated the deterioration of the thorium pipes below, causing a leak of vapor containing mixed essence of air and essence of fire, so..." Diago spread his hands, bringing his lengthy explanation to an end. Honestly, all that talking had left his mouth rather dry.

"Didn't you say there was a problem with the trigger between the Gold Power Core and the Delicate Arcanite Converter?" Darkweir narrowed his eyes dangerously. To be honest, he had not understood what Diago was saying, but that did not stop the despicable fellow from losing control of his jealousy again. This bumpkin had actually found the fault so easily when he had been unable to locate it despite all his painstaking efforts. It was simply intolerable!

"Master, I was only guessing then." Diago scratched his head and offered an honest, good-natured smile, looking just like a simple old farmer from the countryside. "You know, some things can only be determined after an inspection."

"Then it's your job. I'll give you an hour. Fix it!" Diago's honest appearance had successfully dispelled Fineous Darkvire's hostility. He slammed the heavy mechanical repair kit against Diago's chest and snapped out his orders. In fact, he was delighted to have finally shifted this burden onto someone else. He had been making statues for the Emperor of Blackrock all along; engineering was not his specialty. Even in sculpture, however, he was not the best. Among Shadowforge City's stonemasons, there were plenty better than him.

"Yes, Master!" Diago replied obediently, but once he turned around, he could not resist cursing inwardly. Damn it, you deserve to spend your whole life as a stonemason!

Honestly, repairing this fault was not particularly difficult for Diago. His current problem was a lack of creativity; patching things up was genuinely easy for a master of Draenor engineering like him. He spent a little over ten minutes replacing the damaged components, then another ten or so on repairs and adjustments. He devoted all his remaining time to studying Franclorn Forgewright's design philosophy and unique ideas. This time, however, he did not become so engrossed that he forgot himself.

Only when he reckoned his time was almost up did he climb off the floor and wipe the grease from his face.

"Master, it should be fixed," he said respectfully.

"Not too slow. You barely managed half my speed," Darkweir said shamelessly. With his chest thrust out and belly protruding, he sauntered over. His gait reminded Diago of his boss from his previous life, and the hunter had to make quite an effort to stop himself from going over and beating him up.

The Dark Iron dwarf circled the machine critically, finding every fault he could. Finally, he stood before the console and pushed down the mithril lever controlling the four safes.

Amid a grinding noise, the heavy iron doors of the four most valuable safes slowly opened in the very center of the vault's wall, revealing the four treasure chests inside.

Darkweir stepped forward and carefully lifted the lid of the smallest chest, which sat at the top. The radiance shining from within immediately lit up his face.

Looking over the dwarf's head, the adventurers saw that the chest was filled with gems of every color. The dazzling hues nearly blinded them. Within that tiny chest, almost every gemstone in Azeroth could be found: greenstone, arcane crystals, jade, malachite, aquamarine, rubies, shadowgems, Azeroth diamonds, moonstones, citrine, sapphires... The difference was that the gems in this chest were of higher quality, larger, more brilliantly colored, clearer, and purer. Every single one was exceptional. For a moment, the dazzling sight left Diago unable even to judge how many gems there were or how many varieties, but he could guarantee that he would never see so many beautiful, heaven-sent treasures anywhere else in his life.

"These are treasures among treasures. Only the Emperor of Blackrock has the right to open them, yet we've opened them so easily. Quite an accomplishment, isn't it?" the Dark Iron dwarf murmured dreamily. Judging by his tone, however, he seemed to be speaking to himself rather than anyone else.

But Diago, standing behind him, wanted more than a sense of accomplishment. He wanted money, and above all, he wanted to live!

Darkweir gazed at the dazzling treasures before him, intoxicated and unable to tear himself away. Still, he had not become so carried away that he forgot who granted him his authority. He swallowed hard and reluctantly dragged his eyes away from the chests. Just then, he heard a soft thud, and a surge of intense pain came from inside his body.

He lowered his head and discovered a length of blade protruding from his chest. It was a sharp, spearhead-shaped shortsword. Judging by its greenish color, it was a fine sword alloyed with thorium, he thought dazedly.

But he immediately realized this was no time to think about that. He stiffly turned his head and saw the two bumpkins looking at him with mocking faces. Their former simplicity and honesty had long since vanished, replaced by chilling ruthlessness and savagery.

"You..."

He opened his mouth to shout, but bloody froth welled up from his throat, choking off his words.

The blade slid out of his body with a swish, and the dwarf's vitality seemed to leave him along with the shortsword. Darkweir swayed and collapsed toward the floor.

A few breaths later, he was completely dead, his eyes still open.

"All right, everything here is ours now," Diago declared expansively. He could hardly believe he was managing not to shout with joy.

He stepped forward excitedly and, trembling almost from head to toe, opened the treasure chest in the second safe.

This chest was made of dark iron. Even while it was sealed, Diago could feel the searing heat inside. When it opened, a scorching wave of air rushed into his face.

"I suspect we've used up a lifetime's worth of luck today," the Night Elf beside him said hoarsely.

"So do I," Diago replied, equally dazed.

Cores of earth, fiery cores, hearts of earth, essence of fire, essence of earth, essence of air, essence of life, essence of undeath, motes of mana, hearts of flame...

The chest before them was heaped with all kinds of elemental crystals. Compared to those Diago had seen in his previous life, these were larger and gave off far richer energy. They could only have formed inside elemental beings that had at least reached maturity.

Every one of these supernatural compounds contained an astonishing amount of energy. Diago was certain that putting any single piece on the market outside would be enough to spark a bloody struggle.

The third chest was the largest of the four. Although the adventurers had thoroughly prepared themselves mentally, they still could not help crying out when it opened.

"By the Moon Goddess!" Masley managed to groan. Beside him, the human hunter tugged hard at his collar. If he did not, he felt he would be unable to breathe.

The chest contained all kinds of precious, rare metals: gold bars, truesilver bars, dark iron bars, thorium bars, mithril bars, arcanite bars...

Gold bars counted as cheap goods here. Beneath the rune-covered golden radiance of the arcanite bars, almost every other metal paled. More astonishing still, Diago even saw several sulfuron ingots among them. This metal from the Elemental Plane was said to be indispensable for forging legendary artifacts.

Looking at these metals gleaming in various colors, Diago nearly went mad. If he had used these materials when making his Azeroth version of the M1 Rifle a while back, it would absolutely have been epic quality.

My Corehound Sniper Rifle! My Biznicks 247x128 Accurascope! Diago lamented inwardly, but he quickly came to his senses. With these rare materials, he would have all that equipment eventually. Besides, using materials like arcanite bars on an M1 Rifle would be rather wasteful.

Without hesitation, he opened the Felcloth Bag and began putting the chests inside. His hands shook so uncontrollably that it took several attempts to stuff them in.

While Diago was busy gathering his spoils, Masley Bearhide stepped forward and opened the fourth treasure chest. Diago saw the Night Elf freeze for a moment, then suddenly throw himself onto it.

"This chest is mine!" the Night Elf said through gritted teeth.

Through the gap between the Night Elf and the chest, Diago saw that it was filled with herbs. He recognized only a few, including black lotus and icecap, a specialty of Winterspring.

"No need to fight over it. It's yours," Diago said casually. He had never dabbled in herbalism or alchemy and did not know what these herbs were worth. But he was certain that, since they had been placed alongside the other three chests, they could not be cheap. Perhaps they were even more valuable.

What followed was the most outrageous incident of the year. Diago pulled the levers on the console one by one, opening every safe.

The two shameless thieves began their wicked plundering of the Dark Iron kingdom. They greedily pocketed treasures the Dark Iron Dwarves had accumulated over thousands of years, without the slightest remorse or guilt.

In fact, what pained the two audacious thieves most was that they could only take the most precious and rarest treasures, because each Demons Bag had no more than sixteen slots. And if they did not put the loot inside, the guards outside could hardly be expected to stand by and watch them stroll off with bags large and small.

Nothing in life was more painful than looking at a table full of exquisite delicacies when you were too full to eat! That was exactly how Diago and Masley felt at that moment.

But Diago had heard the story of Ali Baba. They struggled to restrain their greed, taking only the four most valuable treasure chests and some of the other most precious and rarest items. They did not even spare things like gold and silver coins a glance. Even so, their haul was worth a city-several cities, in fact.

After closing the safe doors again and restoring everything to its original state, Diago and Masley wiped the blood from the floor. Then they stuffed Darkweir's corpse into a gap between the gears beneath the machinery, arranging him to look as though he were absorbed in studying its mysteries.

"All right, it's time to leave," Diago said reluctantly, picking Ironfel up from the floor. In fact, this hammer had been their original reason for coming here, but both adventurers now found it rather uninteresting. Had it not been necessary to open the hidden door, they would not even have given it another glance.

It was an enormous dark iron smithing hammer with a massive rectangular head engraved with several dwarven letters: Franclorn Forgewright's initials. Its handle was cast from some cold metal and felt icy to the touch. Diago suspected it would not grow hot even if held over a fire. In his memory, only froststeel from the northern continent of Northrend had that property. It was a wondrous metal that could not be heated and could only be cold-forged.

"Let's go. We've already spent too much time here!" Masley urged again. They turned back for one final look at the enormous vault, then strode toward the door.