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A Treat for Hallow's End

It was a dark and stormy night... well, not really, it was actually a pleasantly-cool evening in the Northern Barrens, and the goblin port of Ratchet was abuzz with adventurers, who for this particular time of year had hung up their armour in favour of spooky costumes. The Bouldershot Buccaneers were of course not exception to this, and had each put together an outfit for the event, intent on bringing back the biggest haul of candy Azeroth had ever seen!

Due to how many of them there were, the large crew had split into three groups, and went door-to-door in search of the sugar-filled booty. Captain Mooncrest, of course, led one of the groups, the studly night elf choosing to impersonate a satyr for the festivities. He had glued two rather large and completely uneven 'horns' to a headband that he wore, was going completely topless, and was wearing a pair of furry, crimson shorts. Along with this he'd made large boots that were at least attempting to look like a pair of hooves, but failed quite miserably at this. Still, he wore a proud smirk as he led his team, carrying a sack already filled with a reasonable amount of loot.

"At this rate we'll 'ave at least double the haul we got last year," he beamed between the two other large men with him, "Infact, if the other men can manage even half of what I'm thinkin' we'll get, well, we'll be swimmin' in chocolate!" the 'satyr' chuckled, though he was soon interrupted by his advisor, the tauren looking fuzzier than usual.

"I think you might be overestimating things, captain, Ratchet only has so many houses after all," the bull nodded sagely, though it was hard to look even remotely serious with the gigantic fake beard he was wearing. Khyed had struggled and struggled to think of a good costume idea, before eventually settling on the look of his brothers from Pandaria, the Yuangol. Of course with Yuangol looking essentially like tauren with super-fuzzy faces, well, the druid was unlikely to win 'most creative'. Baelek -had- tried to make Khyed appear a bit more interesting by decorating his horns with tribal symbols, and by convincing him to forgo his usual long kilt in favour of a loincloth, but whether that was to make the outfit more convincing, or if the randy night elf just wanted more to ogle, who knew.

"Indeed, besides, every year the entire crew eats far too many sweets and we spend the next week retching in our cabins; I doubt a bigger haul would do us all that well," the third pirate spoke in a deep, echoing voice always accompanied by the chill of the grave.

"Tch, the two of you can be such spoil sports y'know? This is -the- time of year to have fun and eat until you puke, live a little," Baelek grinned, but was quick to give a scowl at the blood elf and his choice of outfit. The man was wearing an elaborate set of black platemail, a light dusting of ice covering almost the entire thing. Small skulls decorated his belt and shoulders, their empty eye sockets emitting a cold, blue glow. It really was a fearsome, fear-inducing set of gear, but the captain was not pleased.

"And Taerik, -why- did you just put on your usual armour? You're supposed to be dressed up as something, I mean even Khyed tried at least," he gave a firm nod and smile to the tauren who just sighed softly to himself.

Taerik just stared blankly at the night elf for a moment, "I'm a death knight," he bluntly stated, causing his captain to let out an exasperated sigh.

"Yes, but you can't just dress up how you normally do, heck it took me a week to talk most of the men out of choosing 'pirate' as their costumes," he shook his head, putting on a wide smile and lifting his treat bag, "Anyway, enough talking, all this time yappin' could be spent huntin' down treasure!" and with that the enormous man charged off toward another house, Khyed quick to hurry behind him, and Taerik going at a much more leisurely pace.

Meanwhile, over on the other end of town, Beta Team was heading to their next house, the four colossal men dressed in similarly-poor-quality costumes, but from the looks of the bulging sacks they carried, they'd still been immensely successful themselves on their hunt for candy thus far.

Leading the quartet was Rin'ji, the enormous, hulking troll having painted himself a dark, sickly green, and had scribbled some runes on his arms and some trollish symbols on his face. Trying his best to resemble a fierce Dire Troll, he actually pulled it off pretty well considering his behemoth size. To finish off the outfit, he wore only some wristwraps, anklewraps and a tight loincloth, the last of which was strained helplessly over his ludicrously-oversized manparts. The priest had already picked out their next target, a smaller, cottagey house on the port's outskirts. Sauntering over it it, he gestured subtly for his three amigos to follow close behind.

Takrin was quickly in tow, the enormously-beefy brute choosing the infamous leader of the Twilight's Hammer himself, Cho'Gall, as his inspiration. Having made a large cardboard shoulderplate and gauntlet, and wearing similarly as little clothing as Rin'ji was, actually just a large belt and loincloth, there seemed to be a pattern of showing a lot of skin amongst the crew. What stood out most about the orc's costume though was that, for Cho'Gall's second head, the beastmaster had crudely-drawn a one-eyed face on a large watermelon and tied it to his free shoulder, something the ogre cultist himself would surely baulk at.

Following alongside him was Horgann, who had figured that a good Halloween outfit didn't -have- to be scary, infact, he'd taken the opportunity to try out some cosplay of his favourite hero, Brann Bronzebeard, famed archaeologist of the Explorer's League. With some simple brown leather armour and one of Blake's guns by his side, the only problem he had had with getting his outfit together was a suitable hat. In all the stalls he'd visited, the only one that was even close to the right style was a pink, flowery summer hat, one that would look much more at home on an ageing grandmother than a herculean dwarf. Still, with a bit of paint it went vaguely well with the rest of his stuff, and Horgann was just having fun pretending to be his idol, hunting down the largest and fiercest of rare game, 'pew pew'.

The final member of the small group, who was further behind, stalking the rest from the shadows (or trying to), was Blake. The ship's navigator had been 'convinced' by his captain to try his hand as a rogue for Hallow's End, and with him being a human, he figured the obvious choice was the former leader of the Defias Brotherhood, Edwin Vancleef. He'd cobbled together various dark pieces of clothing into a set that didn't match in the slightest, and as well as this he had actually managed to find the iconic red bandana that the bandits wore. While he had been hesitant to play the part beforehand, the moment he put that on, it was like he was an entirely different person. Holding a couple of butter knives close to his sides, he crept silently(far from it actually) behind the others, peering from side to side near-constantly to make sure he remained unseen (he didn't). After nearly walking right into a tree -twice-, he joined the rest at the doorstep of the small bungalow, Rin'ji taking the lead and giving a heavy knock on the door.

"Alright, alright, keep yer pants on, jeez!" they heard an iritated woman grumble, before the door would open to reveal an elderly pair of goblins, the couple craning their necks upward to have any hope of seeing the men's faces.

"Trick-or-treat!" the four called out in unison, the tiny old man blushing a dark shade of red and the woman just giving an even more intense scowl.

"Huh? Ain't you lot a little too old to be trick-'r-treatin'?" she asked, giving a disapproving stare to each titan in turn, "I mean you wiseguys 'ave gotta be fully-grown men, aintcha? Too old fer candy," she held the large bowl of sugary treats close to her protectively, but her husband was quick to snatch hold of it.

"N-Now now Flozzle, these me-eh, these little tykes 'ave clearly put a lot of hard work into their costumes. I-It wouldn't be fair not ta give 'em anythin' fer that," the timid, shaking old goblin offered the large bowl out to the pirates. Rin'ji grinned wickedly, leaning in and making sure that his gargntuan, completely-uncovered bust hovered -just- in front of the little guy's face, this causing an instant nosebleed.

"Mmmh, t'ank ya~" he purred, snatching the bowl up and pouring it entire contents into the large bag he carried, then holding it back out to the couple.

The crone grabbed it and gave her partner an evil glare, though he was just fiddling with his hands, his knees trembling as he giggled dumbly.

With that the four marched off to their next house, though Rin'ji called back over his shoulder, "Ah'll 'ave to pay ya back when we next be in port, 'till den~" and with a cheeky wink he was gone.

The final band of ridiculously-muscular pirates were right in the heart of the port, doing a second round of the larger, richer homes close to the docks. It may have seemed odd to some, but thanks to how... persuasive the men were, it wasn't uncommon for them to sneak a third or even a forth load of candy from each house.

Leading this trio of terrifyingly-clad corsairs was Rurik, who had taken a leaf from Rin'ji's book and chosen to wear only a pair of tight shorts, with of course bulged out monstrously due to his oversized manparts. Painted a deep red and with some fake fel runes scribbled on his thick, beefy arms, he actually looked to part of an eredar quite well. In fact, because of his towering size, he'd actually scared a few other trick-or-treaters away, worrying them that the Legion was attacking once more. This suited him well though, less competition meant more treasure for them!

Aside from him, the absolutely-goliath elven juggernaut that was Tharyn, followed. It shouldn't be much of a surprise to note that was wearing next-to-nothing as well, his own massive, rippling muscles fully on show, and good thing too, as they were quite the effective weapon in negotiating more candy. He wore a pair of large dark boots and matching gloves, and had somehow managed to squeeze himself into the biggest pair of shorts he owned. Unfortunately for him, they still barely managed to contain his modesty, looking little more than a pair of skin-tight black boxers. He'd actually already had half a dozen 'wardrobe malfunctions' thusfar, Rurik usually quick to tell him that one of his massive nuts was hanging out the side of them, after letting himself have a good ogle first, naturally. The enormous warrior had painted himself a sickly bright-green, and had Zixxle draw all over him, so it looked like he had numerous patches of flesh sewn onto himself. He'd also gotten Rurik to fashion him a crude metal jawplate to enhance the look he was going for, that of the fearsome patchwork monstrosity, Thaddeus. Of course it wasn't actually grafted on, just worn with a strap going around the back of the head, thus poor Tharyn was forever having to pull it back up over his jaw whenever it slipped.

The final member of the crew, who was currently perched atop one of Tharyn's hugely-broad shoulders, was of course Zixxle. The miniature swabee really wasn't too comfortable with his 'outfit', but when he came to the captain without a single costume idea, what else was he to expect? Similar to his two comrades, he wore just a pair of shorts, his a tight, sleek black leather, with a long black tail topped with an arrowhead coming out from behind it. Along with these he also wore a pair of surprisingly-well-crafted wings, made to mimic those of a demon, and made with a black, glossy material. He'd managed to get out of being dunked into a pot of red body paint, but even so he looked remarkably-similar to an actual imp.

"You two doing alright back there?" the engineer-turned-demon asked, looking over his shoulder at the pair, but giving big grin as his gaze travelled south, "Popped out again, Tharyn." He chuckled softly as the kaldorei lazily reached down to try and stuff the enormous nut back into it's holding, with it being a two-handed affair, Zixxle had to wrap his arms around the brute's thick neck so he wasn't jostled off his seat. "You -really- sure they're your -biggest- pair o' shorts?" the eredar asked, a wolfish smirk still on his lips. Tharyn just nodded silently, causing a small scoff to leave Rurik, the red-skinned stud turning his attention to the imp, "Hey, lookin' good there Zix~" he gave a sly wink as he caught site of the prominent bulge that the little guy was sporting, Zixxle quick to cover himself as best he could.

"Gah, I -told- the cap'n this was way too... revealin'," he sighed sadly, draping his wiry form against the side of Tharyn's head.

"Well yeah, that's half the point of Hallow's End, see how little y'can get away with, right Tharyn?" he turned his attention back to the sleepy-looking frankenstein, who just offered another silent nod. Rurik just gave both his companions a small sigh as they turned a corner into one of the narrower side-streets, and as they did, all three of them let out a loud gasp.

There, standing in the middle of the alley, and easily filling up nearly all of it, was none other than Arthas, the Lich King himself! He stood at an intimidating height, almost as tall as Tharyn was, and built nearly as impressively given that he was at severe risk of damaging both walls either side of him. His unmistakable armour was dark, heavy and adorned with twisted, contorted skulls. Obscuring his face with his distinctive horned helmet, two pale shards of light peering out from behind it.

The pirates went white, a look of sheer terror across all three of their faces. Frozen on the spot in fear, they could only silently scream as the supreme ruler of the Scourge himself slowly lifted Frostmourne in one hand and pointed it right at them, the runesword emitting an eerie, chilly glow.

It was then that he spoke, that cold, lifeless voice, backed by the wailing of the untold thousands of souls he'd claimed, "Bouldershot Buccaneers, at last I find you. If you wish to keep your lives, relinquish your candy."

It was only then that the three men had feeling in their legs again, and Rurik and Tharyn turned heel and charged away as fast as they possibly could, dropping their huge sacks of booty as they did. Zixxle, however, was sent tumbling off the immense night elf's shoulder and collapsed in a heap on the floor, struggling to pull himself up and reaching out toward the fleeing beefcakes.

"H-Hey! Y'can't just leave me here," he yelled, but both massive hunks had already disappeared from sight, leaving the poor little goblin alone with the Scourge Lord. He gulped, slowly turning his head around and emitting a small yelp as he saw Arthas now slowly advancing on him, closing the space between them with each heavy footfall. Zixxle scrambled onto his back and squirmed away as fast as he could, but it was to no avail, the Lich King reached him in no time. Once more frozen in pure terror, the swabee could only watch as the armoured giant slowly leant his head in, his cold breath washing over him and those eyes watching him intently.

"Zixxle...," the monster spoke, only causing another wave of fear to pass over the shaman, how did he know his name?! "Your costume is...," those piercing icy-blue eyes scanned the tiny man's figure, a nervous cough quick to leave his lips, "... ahem... w-well... ," he looked away in embarrassment, Zixxle just staring blankly back, this wasn't -quite- how he thought this would go.

"... eh... y-you okay there, bud?" he eventually asked, his terror subsiding just enough to allow him to speak.

"F-Fine! I just... didn't expect you to be wearing something so... revealing," he let out another cough, reaching in to grab the goblin gently and help him to his feet, before he himself stood back up to his full, towering height.

Well, Zixxle didn't know what to think, why had the Lich King himself even felt the need to comment on his outfit? Why had he just helped him up? And more importantly, why had his soul not yet been reaped from his body?

"Uhh...," was all he could think to say, the goblin just eyeing the much larger figure with a look of pure bewilderment.

"Oh! Eheh, sorry...," the Scourge Lord said, before he placed Frostmourne onto the ground and reached up to grab his helm. Slowly lifting it off his head, the goblin's eyes would widen to the size of dinner plates as he saw that it wasn't Arthas Menethil, the Lich King, it was infact...

Zohaar.

Holding the horned helmet under his arm, he flashed a wide, excited smile down at the shaman, who was just opening and closing his mouth rapidly like a fish out of water.

"Aah... b-but... and with the... so you were... it was -you-?!" the man finally got out, a mixture of confusion, shock and anger in his eyes.

The draenei nodded, looking -very- proud with himself, "Yep! I've been working on this outfit all year, even got some enchantments on it to change my voice and alter my err... body shape in it, neat huh?"

Unsurprisingly the goblin did -not- look all too happy, but just as he was about to scold the enormous knight, he saw the pure joy in Zohaar's eyes, how genuinely happy this entire thing had made him, and any feelings of ire he had in him vanished. Instead, a light blush appeared on his face and a stupid smile crossed his lips.

"I... guess you did pretty good... I mean, yeah! You sure did a number on us! I've never seen Tharyn run... well, -ever-! Gyahaha!," his chuckles were soon joined by Zohaar's bellowing guffawing.

The vindicator walked over to the two massive, bulging sacks that the fleeing studs left behind, lifting them with ease and glancing back to Zixxle, a slight smirk on the paladin's lips, "What do you say we find a nice, quiet place to enjoy this~?" he winked slyly, the goblin hopping to his feet instantly. It seemed Hallow's End brought out a whole new side of his lover, one he was going to enjoy -thoroughly-!