Flak Gearblast and The Gearblast Mauraders

[Moonkin]

(WIP! Feedback wanted)

Name: Flak Gearblast
Race: Goblin
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Class: Hunter
Likes: Money, His people, Scraps the hyena
Dislikes: Any danger to his people, losing money
Personality: Oddly trustworthy for a goblin (While growing up he had to trust the people around him in order to survive), Suspicious to those he does not know, loves his people and wants a better future for them.

Flak Gearblast was born into the lower class of goblins living in Kezan. His father was never around, constantly chasing new business ventures in order to raise their family's position, and because his ventures typically ended in failure, his mother was almost constantly working off his debts. So Flak had to practically raise himself. He soon realized that Kezan was a cold heartless place for those without money, and you had to be quick if you didn't want to be crushed by the gears of the goblin society. During his childhood he spent most of his time in one of the many dumps, scavenging for scraps. Of course there was competition, other much bigger goblins would rob him if he found anything good in those piles, and there wasn't much Flak could do about it. There was also the hyenas, left to keep goblins like him out, and since they could eat anything thrown in there, the owners could just throw the hyenas in and forget them. They would attack at a moments notice, and he was bitten by each one at least once.

One day he was in the junkyard, running back towards the exit as fast as he could. He had just found a nice piece of scrap metal, it could have gone for at least 50 copper to the right buyer, and he was determined to keep it. He had just rounded a corner, and BAM! He fell to the ground, dazed for a moment. He pushed himself up and tried to figure out what had happened. He looked behind him and was instantly paralyzed with fear. He had fallen over one of the hyenas, and he was sure that it would maul him any second. He braced, waiting for the pain. When nothing happened he looked again. The hyena was a bit roughed up from having tripped the goblin, but he was otherwise fine. Too fine... it did not have any of the scars or wounds that came with guarding this urban treasure. He must have been released in hear recently, as it was too old to have been born there. Flak cautiously felt around in his backpack for anything that could help him out of this situation, as the hyena was slowly getting up. He felt something in his pack, and flung it at the hyena, hoping for it to do.. anything! He realized too late that he had just flung his lunch at the beast, who had just turned to face him. The paper sack bounced off his nose harmlessly, and hit the ground, spilling its contents over the cold, disgusting ground. He braced again, waiting for the now surely angered hyena to attack. Yet again, nothing happened. He looked to see the hyena snarfing down his lunch, and Flak took the opportunity to flee. He didn't' keep track of where he was going, and promptly got himself lost between the large piles of compost. He had never been to this section of the dump, as he knew everything here was just going to rot. He made his way to the tallest pile of garbage in the dump, even though he new that was where the roving bands of goblins hung out, and he would lose his new found treasure. Sure enough, as soon as he got to an area he could recognize, right between the furniture section and the electronic waste, he was jumped by two goblins.

"Well look what we have here!" The bigger one, who I recognized as Bruno, sneered. "The runt has returned! Didn't we say this is our turf, punk!"
"Look guys," Flak said, trying not to get his face crushed in by the brutes " I'm just passing though, no need to do anything hasty here."

Despite his attempt at diplomacy, Bruno and the other goblin continued their advance on him. He was sure he was dead, for the third time today, when a dark figure leaped in front of him. He quickly recognized it as the hyena he had thrown his lunch at earlier, who was now bearing down on the two terrified bullies. The two brutes fled in fear, having known that as soon as they were cut, the other hyenas would descend on them like sharks. Flak was stunned, and he continued to be stunned when the hyena ran up to him and began to nuzzle him affectionately. Flak put out a careful hand, and with the utmost care he stroked the beasts mangy mane, to which the hyena let out a playful bark, which sent Flak leaping two feet straight in the air, freaked out of his mind from the sudden noise. After he calmed down, he looked at his new found friend, and began to laugh at his good luck.

Flak and his new friend, who he had named Scraps, lived better off since that day. Flak was now free to scavenge from any part of the dump he liked, and Scraps now had a constant source of food, shelter and water to rely on. Both were happy about the circumstances they had been flung into, at least for a while. Flak now found himself with some free time, as his scavenging now took significantly less time then before. Scraps was good at protecting him from the other goblins, but he wouldn't attack the other hyenas. He needed something to protect himself. So during this new free time he build himself a gun out of old spare parts and gizmos, and trained with it daily. He found two things after making the gun, he was good at building things, and the things he built typically sold for more than the individual parts. From that point on his mechanical skills would improve significantly, eventually landing him a few part time jobs as a mechanic. He was living the good, albeit low class lifestyle.

After a while he found himself with a new group of friends in the dumps, who would listen to him without question. He was slowly amassing his own gang out of the small number of goblins who could not survive otherwise. He decided that, now that he had his own force, he would change things in the dumps for the better, by uniting the groups together under his rule, and destroying the groups that would not obey. He worked his way though the dumps, first adding the small, unorganized bands to his one force through promises of protection, then moving his way up. Eventually there was only two groups left, The Gearblast Marauders and the High City Kings. The High City Kings had been in power for a while, and had kept the best part of the dumps for themselves, the trash from the trade princes and other high society members. They through out entire couches, just because they went out of style, barely touched food, even the occasional weapon that needed to be discarded of before the cops arrived. The two forces met at dawn on a warm summer day. Both sides sent their terms of surrender, which the other promptly threw away. Then they fought. It was a bloody battle, both sides using all their resources, knowing that if they lost they would not need them anymore. Swords, shields, guns, even a few cannons were used on this day. Flak was right in the middle of it along with Scrap, not letting anyone think that he was a coward. The HCK had superior weaponry, but Gearblast's side had far larger numbers. The HCK were pushed back into their fortress of garbage, and eventually the two leaders stood face to face. Their leader was tall (for a goblin), powerfuly build with greasy black hair and dressed in an old tux, clearly not expecting the battle to go against him.

Their leader spoke in a powerful and deep voice "I propose a fight, just you and me, to decide the outcome of this momentous battle. If you win you will command all my forces and my king... er dumpdom, but if I win you retreat and never return. Sounds fair?"
"Yes." Flak replied. "It is fair. Too fair for my likings."

Flak then shot him in the head, laughing maniacally, and it was over. Flak's forces cleaned up the remainder of the opposing force while he contemplated his rule. He deciding that, although it was tempting, he would not be like the previous rulers. He decided to build this place up, no longer a place for lone scavengers, but a mini society for those less fortunate, no longer leaving them to fend for themselves like he had. It quickly became apparent that none of the factions actually had control of the dump, but he quickly figured out that the land had no deed, which was why the goblins were dumping there, because it was free. Flak bought the land, and their society was created. He had some of the land cleared for homes, albeit nothing more than a few shacks, and started up a few businesses, paying the inhabitants money for scraps, having all the ex-craftsmen living there build things, and selling the final product to the better off for low prices. He used this money to build his garbage kingdom even more. It seemed like a good lifestyle, and the people looked at Flak with adoring eyes. But in Flak's eyes, he had just created a large force of slave labor that adored him. It was a good life, he was living strides above his people, and even though the books said that most of the money went to building his trash town, almost all of it went to him.

It was a good time in Kezan for those less fortunate, even if they were living in a dump and their lives were harder. Their mini civilization thrived for years. Flak went on the occasional business trip off the island to obtain things that they could not, and if he got wind of a profitable adventure he would join in, sharing "most" of what he earned with his people, of course. Then the cataclysm rolled around, and their lifestyles were once more thrown into chaos. The earth shook, and the lava rained from the sky. Panic surrounded him. Scrap was running in circles. He grabbed his hound's collar, and fired a shot into the air. Everyone turned to look at their leader.

"Everyone!" He shouted over the calamity. "Get to the barges! We must leave our homes if we wish to survive! Pack up your valuables and RUN!"

They ran for the shore. There were several garbage barges, a new purchase made by Flak in order to expand to the other side of the island, or even the other islands in the area. Right now they filled another purpose, having been lashed together and now hauling hundreds of goblins and all their belongings off the doomed island. The volcano erupted in a final burst moments after they left, torching everything that remained and shoving the barges away. They floated for days, but his people were tough, and most survived. Eventually they spotted land, and after a bit of explosion based propulsion, they arrived. Flak immediately began to give orders, building some temporary structures and having a few hardy goblins scout the area. They eventually realized that they had landed on the southern coast of the Swamp of Sorrows, and decided to build their new home right there. After a few months they had built it, Gearblast Port. This way of living would be far different than before. They replaced their scavenging with gathering the natural resources, their salvaging with building and crafting. They would become a fairly successful port, as they were slightly more trustworthy then the average goblin port. They would also start up a new business, The Gearblast Marauders were arranged once again, now a fully fledged mercenary organization who would work for the highest bidder. Flak was naturally proclaimed their leader, and some consider him to practically be a trade prince. He resides in his port along with his faithful hyena he met all those years ago, occasionally going on his own profitable ventures, and he always went with his mercenary forces, only trusting himself to get the job done.

-The Gearblast Marauders-
Leader/Founder: Flak Gearblast
Description/History: Originally a large, yet poorly equipped, revolutionary force battling for control of the scrapyards and garbage dumps, a major part in the lower classes way of life. Now a slightly smaller force, but they are much better equipped due to their new wealth. (see above for greater description.)
Base: Gearblast Port - Swamp of Sorrows
Politics: While always more inclined to work with other goblins, their allegiance is to the bigger coin.
(WIP)