#lakks

The goblin frowned at the sights of industry before her. "Sure is tough bein' a gal wit' a conscience." The greed ran rampant, starving laborers overworked, rusted machines worn out, and gluttonous management. The books? Cooked. She ran a hand through her bright purple hair and slipped her gloves on. The mechanical fists hummed. An ogre enforcer ran up to stop her with a club ready to squash. The gloves revved and she spiraled into an uppercut and slammed home into the ogre's jaw, laid him out flat. She sighed. "Ain't gettin' paid enough for this. They're gonna be so mad at me back home. Ugh. I think connectin' with the spirits so much rubbed off on me." A grinding sound came from her bag. "Yes, yes, I know, Chip. They're destroyin' your home." The grinding sound again. "...yeah, I do know what that's like." Lakks rummaged in a box of knickknacks. She pulled a carved statuette of Gallywix out. She growled and crushed it in the mechanical hands. "Can't even be makin' somethin' to help us or anythin'. Guess I gotta wreck it all. After all, who says I can't enjoy myself a little when helpin' and doin' good deeds? Right, Chip?" The grinding noise was short. "Attaboy, you're learnin' too."