Pretty cool. Pret-ty co-ol??? How on earth did a given young witch barely old enough to even receive a wand even know at what temperature goblins ran at? They were very much warm blooded, thank you very much.

...unless she was under the mistaken assumption that goblins were...what was the word? Hip? Rad?

Sounding out the disturbing syllables in his head, Sturnik could not resist the sneer that overtook his features as he hobbled his way out of a given passageway behind the two humans. Never you mind where that passageway led to or came from or what it even looked like, it was for those of Gringotts employ only, and preferably only those of goblin descent. It was where he ate his lunch after all, and it wouldn't do to have random busy bodies interrupting him. It also wouldn't do to have wizard folk thinking goblins were...groovy. An internal shudder had his sneer deepening as he came up behind them knowing full well that his sudden appearance would alarm even those with the strongest constitution.

"I assume you are waiting to be taken to your vault."
Sneering down his nose at the small duo, an action that yes even goblins half the size of an adult man can do, Sturnik did not bother waiting for their answers but rather lifted his hand in an unrecognizable gesture that had a cart whizzing down the tracks to a abrupt halt in front them.

His dead pan voice giving no indication of the wild ride ahead of them he hopped in and droned on as per routine. "Keep all arms and legs inside the cart at all times as Gringotts is not responsible for any loss of limbs or other fatalities that may occur, and as always please keep your belongings with you." At the end of the last words, he almost gleefully started the cart.

It was an impressive feat really, one that gave testimony to his many, many years working there that as the cart dipped and rose and teetered and whipped around close corners that Sturnik did not move once. Why the cantankerous goblin probably didn't even blink, even as the cart approached speeds that were in all probability frightening his cargo of humans.
Some time later, during which time the cart did not slow down not even once, the ride to the appropriate vault finally came to an end.

Nimbly exiting the cart, he waited impatiently for the woman and her daughter to exit as well. Announcing haltingly that they'd arrived, he held out a wrinkled clutching hand for the key. " Vault 405, if I may have your key."



Some time later, grunting as his knees creaked with age and a tiring work day Sturnik made his way down the dark corridor for the umpteenth time. Hauling himself inside a stationary cart, Sturnik waited for a wizard to approach.

Spying a young boy not too far off, he pointed a long talon-like fingernail at him and nodded. "You will be next now."

So what if he said it a bit ominously, in his old age he could do what he pleased. Even if that meant scaring the wits off young wizards. That he enjoyed doing it was a completely different matter. Completely.

Waiting for the boy to climb in, he nodded curtly and turned his head towards him only slightly to remind him to keep his arms and legs in the cart. With a lurch, it was in motion and speeding down the track. A few harrowing turns and lunch-losing dips later, the cart came to a jolting halt. Exiting the cart and waiting impatiently for the boy to follow him he pointed ahead.
"Vault number 015. Your key." It was not a question. More of a statement. Because of course, there was no way the boy could access his vault without him.