"We should lock down all the vaults until this whole issue is resolved," Fillast said tersely. "It would be a good opportunity to check them for contraband as well."
"Oh! I like it!" Alkrat smiled. "They should be reassigned, with the competing teams to see who's the better!"
"You're right; imagine the fees we'd rake in from a surprise inspection."
"Yes, that is the proper thing to do," Little Minister Bankor said, agreeing with something or other. "There's a session of the Wizengamot in two days, we'll need to make a statement as soon as possible."
"I just had a sizable audit done," Barchoke said, "Auditor Axegrind proved quite capable." From the corner of his eye he saw Gutripper glance at him. "I suggest we put him in charge of testing."
"We'll hold Lognot here in the meantime," Gutripper sneered angrily. "They'll want to interrogate him before we kill him."
"No! NO!" Lognot screamed as he threw himself over the banister surrounding the Pit. Tumbling over himself in his haste, the goblin bolted for the door Harry and Lichfield just left from several moments before.
Tensions running high, Barchoke felt every inch like the grand goblins of old. Whipping out his dagger he flung it at the retreating goblin, aiming to wound and capture. He missed by a mile as it clanged down not even half way to the target and skidded across the floor.
Gutripper gave him a look saying he was dumber than a bag of rocks for even trying. He took the Concealer from Barchoke's other hand and shattered it on the floor.
"GUARDS!" the scarred security goblin bellowed as the Pit seemed to amplify his roar; the noise of the crowd when it had been in operation must've been deafening.
The door Lognot was charging towards banged open and two scarlet and gold guards burst through, weapons drawn. Lognot shuttered to a halt in front of them as a blade jut through his back. With a croaking, choking sound Lognot slowly slumped to the floor, sliding off the surprised guard's blade to lie in a pool of dark green blood. The guards looked up at them with wide eyes to see if they were to be punished for killing someone they may have wanted detained.
Barchoke stood stunned. Every goblin knew death was always around the corner, banking was a dangerous business full of envious competitors, but Barchoke had never seen anyone die before. Vaguely he knew that Gropegold wouldn't be in his cell anymore since he had given up all the information he had, but he had been far enough away from the event that he could pretend he didn't know what had really happened.
Now he couldn't. He had killed two people. Two bad people, or at least incompetent, but they were still people. He ran a hand across his shaved head. His Oath of Vengeance had always been more of a theoretical thing, but he had sworn to take vengeance upon yet another person, a human, a wizard, Dumbledore. That this could be achieved through prolonged pain and not death seemed to console him slightly; and confuse him a bit.
If truth be told Barchoke felt nothing as he looked down at the bleeding body. How could he be okay with death when it happened to someone he didn't really know, but be so terrified of it himself? Was it being removed from the act that made it palatable to him, or would the actual act be the same? He wondered how this squared with his Oath of Vengeance and couldn't help but be curious as to how he'd face his own death. Would he face it stoically, be petrified by fear, would he run - or would he fight?
"Well, that's done," Gutripper said, breaking the silence. "Hide the body, and keep it a secret from Confidential," he snapped to the guards.
'That shouldn't be hard,' Barchoke thought. 'The cave-blind fools didn't even know what was going on in their own department .'
Then it hit him, neither had he when this whole thing got started. Did Marsh really not know what was going on? How could they hold Overseers accountable for things, punishable by death, when everything was always so hands-off unless there was a problem? For his own health, things would have to change.
"I should be the one to make the announcement to the Wizengamot," Marsh said as the guards started to drag Lognot's body away, leaving a deep green smear behind them.
"You overstep yourself," Bankor interrupted, for once seeming slightly ruffled. "My department deals with the Ministry."
"With their policies and finances - not with the Wizengamot itself," Marsh pressed. "You may have noticed they and I have a lot in common."
Barchoke got his head back in the game. "I would think that you'd be too busy with your investigation," he said, giving the human the benefit of the doubt.
"Don't you have a kid's diaper to change?" the human sneered.
Barchoke went to grab his dagger to teach the human not to spit at kindness, only to find nothing there. With a spike of fear he realized that it was still on the floor of the Pit.
Marsh drew his wand.
Barchoke sprang instinctively back to put more distance between them. Daggers were drawn by Gutripper and Fillast. Alkrat jumped back in surprise, his hands up to ward off an attack. Slaggran fell on his ass. Bankor darted looks between them, wondering what to say to salvage the situation, and Braglast had disappeared entirely.
In the tense moment that followed, the human seemed to realize the grave mistake he had made. He had been given a dagger for a reason: they all had them, whether they had brought them or not, but no one threatened a goblin with a wand, not this deep in the bowels of Gringotts.
Marsh opened his grip on the wand so only two fingers were touching it, and slowly lowered it to the floor, keeping his other hand clearly visible. Braglast suddenly appeared from behind the human and kicked the wand aside before sheathing his own blade; the wand was the only one to make a sound as it clattered off somewhere.
With a gulp, Slaggran's wheezed breathing cut through the silence.
"They wouldn't know you either," he said from the floor as if nothing had happened. The fat goblin's stomach growled and he chose not to stand.
"Putting out a human would make us look weak," Fillast said. "We need someone they think would have their interests first. But not someone they know well enough to complain about."
"That is not me," Alkrat said. "Who-who are you suggesting?"
"Can we get food brought in?" Slaggran wheezed.
"Barchoke should do it," Fillast said.
"Me?" he asked, honestly surprised.
"You are the one who brought this to us. You say we should turn him over. This is your doing, so you do it."
"He is in charge of Hereditary Accounts," Bankor agreed, sizing him up. "The name of that alone will have them trust him."
"And this puts the domestic goblin face on it, yes?" Alkrat said. "Oh, yes-yes, that works. So what is he to say?"