]Out in front of the Gallows End, a large black iron cauldron stood, simmering above a well-placed campfire. Two iron poles stood on either side of the cauldron's mass, each fitted with several hooks that held up the length of steel wiring that stretched between them. The scents of sea salt, boiled meat and blood rose strongly into the air from within the cauldron, and something noticeably bulbous floated atop of the frothy substance. Upon further inspection, one would notice the cooked corpse of a gnome, its flesh stretched thin and pulled from underlying muscle, the creature's masque of horror all but worn away. Its eyeballs floated carelessly from their sockets, stubbornly clinging to the retinal nerves that kept them in place, and its tongue lulled out from the corner of its gaped mouth. More noticeable however, was the skinning knife stabbed into the gnome's forehead, and lying beneath its press was a note, carved from flesh and written sketchily in blood. It read:
Dear Grimmy-grimms,
Ol' Tusky here. I ain't so good at dese sort'a t'ings, so imma get to da point: whoevah yaw got cookin' ovah dere ain't so good at it! I stopped by da tavern here a few days ago and tried da soup, since da lady in dere said 'Try da soup!' ... So I tried da soup and it tasted like veggies and watah. Now, ya see, I ain't gotsa problem wit' veggeis, but dat sorta food is whut dem hooman's be eatin', see? Bein' a troll... I enjoy da taste o' blood on mah tongue and da texture o' hooman -- and most preferably -- gnome flesh in mah mouf. Da's why, bein' da troll I am, I cooked up a batch o' me favorite soup in Azeroth! Gnome-mo-trubble Delight! It's chock full o' dem veggies, but's got all da goodie gnomey parts in it! Like da tongue an' dem eyeballs, and da bones. Da's where all da flavah be, ya see, in da bones. Anyway... I hope ya Grimmies like da soup.
Oh. An' one mo' t'ing, Grimmies. I ain't got a place ta stay, ya see? Been sleepin' in da gutters o' Dalaran in da sewer, or nappin' in da grass durin' da day. So, iffin ya got room in dem spacey ol' barracks, I ain't gonna say no iffin ya's got room for me. If not, well .. I'll figure sumtin' out.
Yer old friend,
Tuskinar