"Get offa my lawn!" an elderly Dwarf bellowed from the Stormwind bank steps. Not a single trespasser paid him any mind. With a huff, he muttered angrily to himself, "Ya young whipper-snappers and yer fancy names... I oughta..." He stomped towards the auction house, muttering and grumbling as he went. This dwarf was Cliness, the beloved 'granpappy' of the hodge-podge group of nobodies that belonged to the Crash Project. If it weren't for his tendency to shelter and feed the weirdos of the land, he would very likely be the richest dwarf in the realm.
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