Tag Archives: anduin
To My Minions: How Do You Fail Me?
How do you fail me? Let me count the ways.
You fail me every time I take the chance
You might do something right — just once, perchance,
But no, our every mission goes sideways.
You fail me, D&U, with every phrase;
You fail when Lor’themar tries not to prance,
When Nazgrim crashed his ships, and missed his chance:
He let the captured Anduin get away.
My minions let me down at every turn;
I give them ample chances, but they choke.
Some day, I think, these imbeciles will learn;
One outcome won’t be such a fucking joke.
I think that… then here comes the next ill turn.
Free from their failure? Maybe when I croak.
EPIC VERSE!
A bargain at any price
You know, I don’t know what was the bigger surprise — running into King Chin’s brat kid at the Tavern in the Mists, or how fast he was able to clear absolutely 100% out of the area even with that bum leg of his.
You’ll notice, by the way, that I’m not listing “Anduin is ALIVE” in my list of surprises, because seriously, at this point, I don’t know if there are ANY thought-they-were-dead people who could turn up again and have me going “HOLY SHIT, WHAT A SURPRISE!” Because, you know, I might have mentioned this a time or two, but NOBODY FUCKING STAYS DEAD ANYMORE. So, hey, Prince Goody-Two-Shoes wants to shrug off certain doom? Sure, why the fuck now. At this rate, it would only surprise me if… I don’t know, let’s say fucking Illidan… DOESN’T show up again at some point.
Anyhow. Mokvar had some research or whatever that he wanted to do here at the tavern, so I took off to have a look around the area. I didn’t send up going far, though. Turns out there’s another building right next door where this old panda lady, Madam Goya, runs an off-the-books auction house. She had a ton of fairly rare and coveted stuff up for sale. It’s probably better off for me that I don’t know how she GOT all that stuff… but you know what’s REALLY better off for me? That freaking Shayari DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT THIS PLACE, that’s what, because holy crap could she pile up some orders of magnitude fast at these prices.
Still, I DID spot one goody up for sale that I just couldn’t pass up as an impulse buy.
AND SO, HEY! HEY, BOB! ARE YOU READING THIS SHIT? CHECK THIS OUT!
CAN YOU FUCKING SEE THE LICH KING’S HORSE NOW, MOTHERFUCKER?!?
Trial of the Black Prince
You know, it’s a funny thing about spending a lot of time around Garrosh. After a while, the particular brand of blinders through which he looks at the world becomes oddly endearing. Case in point, that last bit Gurtash drew up. I have to admit, I actually sort of missed it while I was off the grid for a while.
Stopping at the Tavern of the Mists was my idea. Garrosh didn’t really have any business of his own there — unless you count inspiring Anduin Wrynn to regain mobility ahead of schedule — so he decided to go take a look around the area. Gurtash grabbed a drink from Tong downstairs (um, nonalcoholic hopefully, but I didn’t think to watch) and went out behind the tavern to rest by the steam pool.
That left me to have a little one-to-one time with the real reason I’d wanted to stop here on the way through.
WRATHION: I don’t believe I know you, friend. Is there something I can help you with?
MOKVAR: There might be. It’s why I came here looking for you.
WRATHION: Interesting. Ordinarily, people only come to seek me out when I send for them.
MOKVAR: Well, do that enough times and I suppose word will tend to get around.
WRATHION: Well then. Clearly I’ve been overestimating people’s sense of discretion.
MOKVAR: Don’t feel too bad. I make a point of having several ears to the ground.
WRATHION: We should get along well, in that case. Or not at all. It can be so hard to predict which way that will go.
MOKVAR: Let’s be optimistic and say option 1.
WRATHION: Indeed. In any case, you are here and I am being rude. <calling downstairs> Tong! A drink, please, for my new friend, mister… ah, I don’t believe I got your name.
MOKVAR: Mokvar.
WRATHION: <calling downstairs> Mr. Mokvar!
Wrathion turns back to Mokvar.
I suppose he doesn’t really need to know your name to serve you drinks, but I did start to tell him, and I would hate for the old fellow to feel I’d left him hanging. Is it Mr. Mokvar, by the way? Or Mokvar something?
MOKVAR: Just Mokvar.
WRATHION: No family name?
MOKVAR: Do you have one?
WRATHION: Fair point. Although advertising my particular family probably resides somewhere between unnecessary and inadvisable. At any rate, I was just curious. “Mok-var.” Does it mean anything?
MOKVAR: Nothing. Just Mokvar.
WRATHION: No? Don’t orcish names usually mean things? “Death of” this and “victory to” that and honor blood glory and such?
MOKVAR: Not everyone’s. Some, yes, like the Warchief’s, for instance.
WRATHION: Yes, I had assumed it meant something subtle like “Scream from Hell.”
MOKVAR: Well, I was talking more about the “Garrosh” part, but sure. Anyway, the point is, in my case it’s just a name.
WRATHION: Ah. Well, that’s less colorful.
MOKVAR: I’ll try to be more entertaining next time.
WRATHION: I would appreciate that. Ah, here we are.
Tong comes upstairs with a tray.
Our drink! Here you are, Mr. Mokvar. I hope you enjoy plum wine.
MOKVAR: I’m allergic to plums, actually.
WRATHION: Ah well. More for me, then! Thank you, Tong.
Tong leaves.
In any case — you have no wine, you have no last name, you’re not terribly entertaining, but here you are. What brings you out to my little sanctuary in the hills?
MOKVAR: Reputation. I’ve heard you’ve been recruiting help for a… well, let’s call it a project of some kind.
WRATHION: You might say that. I prefer to think of it as safeguarding the long-term safety of our world. You might even call it a family business of sorts.
MOKVAR: Well, other than the part where your father lost his mind and tried to destroy the world.
WRATHION: Well yes, there’s that, but who doesn’t get a little cranky in their old age?
MOKVAR: Hopefully you’re young enough that we don’t need to worry about that with you for a while.
WRATHION: One would hope. I do so love to keep people guessing, though!
MOKVAR: I guess I’m less of a daredevil. I like knowing these things for sure. For instance, this looming threat you seem so keen on protecting the world from.
WRATHION: Granted, I don’t really know you, Mr. Mokvar, but unless I’m wildly off in my estimate, you’re old enough that you shouldn’t need me to spell out that threat for you.
MOKVAR: I figured you meant the Burning Legion.
WRATHION: There you go. You’ve answered your own question.
MOKVAR: I’m not so interested in it being the Legion in general — you’re right, it’s common sense to figure they’ll strike again, sooner or later — but I’m more interested in the details. For instance… are you just making some “sooner or later” guess that any of us might, or do you know something more about what’s coming?
WRATHION: Well, I hate to show my hand too much. But suffice to say that as convenient as it would be to possess detailed foreknowledge of the Legion’s plans, I have to settle for something less precise. You might think of it as an inherited trait. My flight was charged with the protection of this world, after all. It stands to reason we might be imbued with an innate sensitivity to looming threats, particularly of a demonic nature.
MOKVAR: Well, apart from the whole deal where—
WRATHION: Yes, yes, I know, the business with the rar-rar-crazy and trying to destroy everything. I know. The flight lost the script for a while there. There’s no need to keep bringing it up. You don’t see me dragging the discussion back to your people’s somewhat checkered history in certain similar matters, do you?
MOKVAR: Wow, you’re sensitive about this, aren’t you?
WRATHION: You would be too if your every conversation were a time bomb ticking down to the inevitable Neltharion-splosion. You would think that after all the time and effort I spent tracking down and exterminating the rest of the black flight, people would see fit to stop lumping me in with them, but oh no.
MOKVAR: Well, technically, didn’t you recruit rogues to—
WRATHION: It’s called delegating, my friend! Goodness, do you spend all your conversations nitpicking like this? You must be a joy at parties.
MOKVAR: Deliana tells me that all the time, too.
WRATHION: Who is that? Your wife?
MOKVAR: No, she’s not my — ugh, why does everyone always think that…?
Wrathion looks at Mokvar quizzically.
Right… just… never mind.
WRATHION: Indeed… Well, in any case. My sensitivity to the threat facing this world is a holdover from that ancestry. It may well have surfaced in me purely because I’m the only untainted black dragon to have come along in an age.
MOKVAR: Are you sure this… “dragon sense” of yours is something specific to untainted black dragons?
WRATHION: There’s no way to know for sure, now is there? I am the only black dragon left alive, untainted or otherwise, so I suppose there’s no alternative for comparison.
Wrathion looks at Mokvar quizzically.
Why? That’s a rather… odd question to be a random inquiry.
MOKVAR: Just because there aren’t any black dragons living in this world — assuming you definitely got them all—
WRATHION: I did.
MOKVAR: Bully for you, then.
—doesn’t mean there aren’t any black dragons, at all. For instance, the not-quite-living variety.
WRATHION: …oh?
MOKVAR: Just a thought.
WRATHION: A thought inspired by…?
MOKVAR: Remember what you were saying before about not showing your hand too much? We’re rather alike that way.
WRATHION: Still, I think I can guess at a few cards. Evidently, there are some remnants of my kin stumbling around in some state of…undeath?
MOKVAR: Possibly.
WRATHION: Hmm. You would think that killing a dragon once would have been enough.
MOKVAR: Believe me, son, you’re preaching to the choir on that one. The gist of it, though, is that it looks like something may have woken some of your former family up from their nap. And the lead that first sent me stumbling in their direction involved some vague portents about “something coming.”
WRATHION: Hmm.
MOKVAR: Which sounds a little familiar now.
WRATHION: Yes, doesn’t it…
Wrathion glances behind him to his bodyguards, Left and Right, and makes a brief gesture.
And… what, pray tell, was it that sent you poking around… well, wherever you were poking around.
MOKVAR: Hypothetically.
WRATHION: Yes, of course. Hypothetically.
MOKVAR: It was… a personal matter.
WRATHION: Isn’t everything?
MOKVAR: Probably. But it does make me wonder what might have happened to stir up the Black Dragonflight even in death.
WRATHION: I don’t know. I can’t say I’m privy to the details of what’s putting the Legion in motion — or what will. It might not even have begun yet.
MOKVAR: How does that work?
WRATHION: Oh, one of the interesting things about precognition is that it can sometimes make one aware of an effect before the cause even takes place. Isn’t time fascinating?
MOKVAR: Preaching to the choir again.
WRATHION: All I can say, my friend, is that events are in motion that threaten to bring the Legion down upon us. And my every instinct calls for me to ensure Azeroth is ready to face them.
MOKVAR: That’s what I hear you’ve been telling people.
WRATHION: You don’t need to sound so conspiratorial about it! I’ll have you know, I’ve been working with some of your own kinsmen to that end.
MOKVAR: So I’ve heard.
WRATHION: You can rest assured, of course, that in the conflict we find ourselves embroiled in, my loyalties lie with your H—
MOKVAR: You don’t have to go through your usual song and dance with me.
Wrathion blinks.
WRATHION: Beg pardon?
MOKVAR: I know you’ve been recruiting people from the Horde and the Alliance. You don’t have to go through your usual pretense of professing your loyalty to whichever side you happen to be talking to at the time.
WRATHION: Er… I… that is… <laughing nervously> Mokvar, my friend, I haven’t an idea what you… that is… You, um… You know about that, eh?
MOKVAR: Like I said, I get around.
WRATHION: Apparently so much so that you’re privy to fairly private discussions across faction lines!
MOKVAR: Let’s just say I have a few useful contacts.
WRATHION: I see that. Nevertheless, what you don’t realize—
MOKVAR: Look, I’m not all that interested in what your endgame in all this is.
WRATHION: I… oh. You don’t? Because I had this whole speech ready on the off chance the situation ever came up, and—
MOKVAR: I assume it’s some type of deal where you think you’re serving some greater good, and playing both sides against each other is a means to that end that you think is justified.
WRATHION: Well… yes, I suppose that’s more or less… um… Are you sure you don’t want to hear the speech?
MOKVAR: And whatever the finer details of it are, they don’t really matter much to me, not least of all because whatever you have going on, you’re just pushing people harder into faction conflicts they were already fighting anyway.
WRATHION: …because it included a few turns of phrase I’m actually rather proud of.
MOKVAR: Could you let it go with the speech already? Believe me, I’ve already had to transcribe enough monologuing for one lifetime.
WRATHION: Oh fine. It’s your loss, though. There were motifs and everything.
MOKVAR: Well whatever the plan is, motifs and all, if you’re smart you’ll rethink it before you get any deeper than you already are.
WRATHION: Oh? And why is that? Are you threatening me?
Left and Right take a step forward, raising their crossbows.
I hope you’re not trying to threaten me. Tong gets so very cross when people make a mess of his place.
MOKVAR: You’re not hearing me. I’m not saying to rethink what you’re doing or else. I’m saying rethink it, because if you do, and you’re smart, you’ll realize you’re getting yourself into the middle of something you don’t want to meddle with.
WRATHION: The only thing I’m trying to do, my friend, is bring an end to this destructive conflict as quickly as possible. Or perhaps you’d prefer to continue watching the Horde and Alliance whittle away at each other while the house burns around them?
MOKVAR: And what I’m trying to explain is that you’re trying to tame a crazed worg. You think you can insert yourself into the Horde-Alliance war and bring it to heel, but you can’t. This is bigger than you. It isn’t subject to your whims.
WRATHION: You seem far too willing to resign yourself to the whims of chance.
MOKVAR: I’m willing to accept that chance’s whims have a lot more sway than ours. But, fine. If you don’t believe me, don’t believe me. Don’t say nobody warned you, though, if you keep meddling in things that are larger than any of us and you end up being bitten by it.
WRATHION: Mokvar, my good fellow, I’ve been enjoying your company, but don’t presume to lecture me. I am the last of the Black Dragonflight, chosen by the makers to safeguard the world. I see things you couldn’t imagine, and know things that would set your… pedestrian mind ablaze.
Mokvar looks thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then nods.
MOKVAR: In that case, Black Prince, I suppose I’ll take my leave.
Mokvar turns and starts to walk away.
Good fortune to you in your endeavors.
WRATHION: And to you in yours, sir.
Mokvar reaches the door, then stops and looks back over his shoulder.
MOKVAR: A propos of nothing… does the name “Sabellian” mean anything to you?
Wrathion narrows his eyes and peers at Mokvar for several seconds.
WRATHION: Should it?
Mokvar shrugs.
MOKVAR: Probably not. Just something I heard somewhere. You seem like a knowledgeable guy. I figured I’d ask. I’m sure it’s nothing.
Mokvar turns back to the door.
Good hunting, your highness.
Mokvar exits.
Not sure if I made things better or worse there. I suppose we’ll see. Plenty of time still to worry about that. Hopefully. In the meantime, I have more research to do.
Mokvar
Tavern in the Mists
So now that we’re mostly settled in Pandaria again, Mokvar’s ready to start in on his whole sha project, with his… dodgy pink nether region crystal thingy… you know what? Something about that way of saying it sees like it’s just asking for trouble, in a vaguely Ruekie kind of way, so let’s just move on. Point is, he needs to start testing out his warlocky hocus-pocus on the sha, and he says he needs to gather some advance intel about the buggers.
Luckily, Mokvar was able to get a run-down on the sha from Zhi-Zhi back at the base, but he says he wants to get more intel from the people who’ve been dealing with the sha in the field. And plus, I mean, Zhi-Zhi seems pretty eager to be helpful and all, but I can’t rightly blame Mokvar for wanting to get some intelligence from non-Zhi-Zhi sources, because let’s face it, when you spend more than eight seconds talking to ol’ monkey boy, “intelligence” isn’t exactly the first word to come bursting to mind.
So, in other words, he fits right in around here. Just watch him stick around for a while.
Anyhow, back to the point. There’s a major sha outbreak over in the Jade Forest where the pandas have a ton of boots on the ground… well, except that they don’t really wear boots. I don’t think. So… they have… fat furry paws on the ground, and… um… Oh, fucking hell, why do I ever bother trying? SOME PANDAS ARE FIGHTING THEM SOME SHA IS THE POINT, over at the Temple of the Jade Serpent or the Emerald Snake or the Chartreuse fucking Anaconda or WHATEVER the fuck these pandas groove to. And so Mokvar wants to head over there and pick their fuzzy brains and hope Ji Lunchbox is the exception rather than the rule so maybe THESE pandas have something in their brains to pick other than “pass the gravy.”
We’re also making a stop at this tavern near another location where they had a major sha problem until pretty recently. I don’t know if the place has some kind of drink special for warlocks or their wings are really good or something, but Mokvar was REALLY keen on stopping at this place on the way over to the Jade Forest. Some “Tavern in the Mists” place, I guess, and I don’t know if I like the sound of that, seeing as the last time I hung out with Mokvar in a tavern surrounded by mist or steam pools or whatever… hoo boy. At least frigging Garona isn’t around this time.
Mak’gora, verbal style
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
GARROSH HELLSCREAM
VS.
THRALL
BEGIN!
GARROSH:
I got the Scourge under wraps, so this round won’t be postponed.
Good thing Blackmoore named you Thrall, ’cause you’re about to be owned.
“Green Jesus,” never wrong? You were never warrior-strong –
Now I’ll shove those beads around your neck back up where they belong.
Aedelas gave you training; Taretha gave you sympathy;
I won’t say what Jaina gave you, but it’s BoP.
You might as well call yourself human, how you were shaped and apprenticed;
All you need’s some beige paint and a trip to the dentist.
Your reign as Warchief was a joke, and you are as well:
Every time I hear your name, I Go’EL-OH-EL.
You left me picking up your mess, and then I watched you leave it:
You failed to serve the Horde – now I’ll crush you beneath it.
THRALL:
Too often since I went away I’ve heard tell of your crimes,
And I don’t know what disappoints me more: you or your rhymes.
I led the orcs from enslavement to the land we inhabit;
I only made one mistake – and I’m looking at it.
You’re not worthy of your line, you’re twisted as an ampersand;
You’re rhymes are weak and I won’t cheer, but I might give you a big hand.
You’ll keep losing your supporters and the lands you used to hold;
From your mailbag to your reign, you just keep on getting trolled.
So when they finally lead you off bound with chains and rope,
Where you’re going, drop some rhymes – but watch you don’t drop the soap.
I was blind to your crimes, but now you’ve gone past the line;
Now it’s time you finally answered—
[Thrall hurls the Doomhammer at Garrosh; before it reaches him, though, Orgrim Doomhammer leaps in and catches it.]
ORGRIM:
Yeah, I think this is mine.
Step aside for a real Warchief; challenge me, you’re going to lose.
You might wear my battle armor, but you could never fill my shoes.
Blackhand left our people pinned under Gul’dan’s thumb;
I showed a race enslaved that they could overcome;
I thought that you were fated to hold fast what we created,
But the going got unstable, and the unstable abdicated.
You made a half-assed call not knowing what the pros and cons were;
You played Frankenstein, then washed your hands of your monster.
And you now, Orcish Karloff – you plagued our kind like a pox,
And locked away our people’s hopes inside a heart-shaped box.
We both tried to tear an Anduin limb from unskilled limb,
Only mine was an adult – and I actually killed him.
Your challenge was a waste of time; you should have withdrawn it,
’Cause I own you both like the city that’s got my name written on it.
[The wall behind them crumbles to reveal a makeshift Dark Portal, through which Blackhand emerges.]
BLACKHAND:
You people must be joking; now you might as well bounce,
Because you’re never trounce the one and only Warchief who counts.
The first to be crowned, rhyming fury unbound;
I built a mighty war machine – you ran it into the ground.
Well I’m back – I was the first, the best to rally orcish masses,
Now I’ll T.H. White Once-and-Future on your asses.
I’m unimpressed, Orgrim, with the rhymes you’ve busted.
Now I’ll correct my one mistake: thinking you could be trusted.
Our bond was iron, loyalty withstanding any test;
Your oath was what a noob picks through on an Outland quest.
So bring it on, Backstabber, and I’ll swat you right back;
You pose no threat; you’d better bet the pimp Hand is Black.
ORGRIM:
You want to take me on, Blackhand? You’d best hope for luck,
’Cause you only ever beat me in a timeline that sucks.
Lust for power kept you dreaming, so you were blind to Gul’dan’s scheming,
Then you followed Hellscream’s lead and sold us out to the demons.
You were Warchief in name, but power? Every last ounce’ll
Dribble down to you for show, straight from the Shadow Council.
It wasn’t till I took command that the First War was won—
BLACKHAND:
And then you led us to internment – yeah, nice work there, son.
THRALL:
We led the orcs back from the fall your madness brought on;
You may be Medivh’s king, but you were Gul’dan’s pawn.
You were a figurehead at best, with a fel employer;
It was only to your own kind that you were the Destroyer.
Oh, but since you mention sons, yours tried to demand
That he should rule, but he got his – by the Warchief’s command.
BLACKHAND:
Oh, look, the junior partner – sad you’re what would become of us;
No surprise, though; like your father, you were never really one of us.
Go play dress-up all you want; fish for praise but you won’t get it,
You just let others do the work and then swoop in to take the credit.
I earned my place as the greatest, and that glory will last—
GARROSH:
At least till Metzen gets another retcon hair up his ass…
BLACKHAND:
Yes, let’s get to you, pox boy, we’ll finish this quickly.
You’ve got rhymes like your childhood: rejected and sickly.
You couldn’t even finish this sad son of Durotan’s –
You should have Bane’d his back in half when you had the chance.
Captain Hammer here’s weak, but he still brought you ruination—
GARROSH:
That’s only ’cause I didn’t gem plot armor penetration.
Now you two old-school has-beens, watch your legacies unravel;
You’re done and gone (except for maybe FUCKING TIME TRAVEL).
My line is stuff of legends; your alias is famed –
They must have thought you’re Tom Riddle, ’cause you couldn’t be named.
I own my every call, each choice a notch in my own belt;
You couldn’t be more of a puppet if they’d made you out of felt.
I’m triumphant and a hero! I’ve slain humans, drakes, and liches!
I ride a wyvern that’s more badass than any of you bitches!
The greatest Warchief of them all, from the last to the first –
Epic mount, epic name, epic life, EPIC VERSE!
WHO WON?
WHO’S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE!
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
[A quick two-part programming note: First, keep those suggestions coming! While they will no longer be a regular weekly feature (because, whew, these are hard to write on a tight schedule!), I may still sprinkle them into the blog now and again, if these great suggestions keep coming in and people seem to be enjoying them.
Second — I’ve decided to push Garrosh’s next mailbag from this coming Monday to the following Monday (May 11), to allow the blog’s “main storyline” events to reach a point where the mailbag will seem less forced. After this month, we’ll be back to our normal schedule of a mailbag the first Monday of each month. Keep those letters coming!]
LIVE BLOG: Ask Garrosh Anything!
Here we go! As promised a few days ago, tonight the Warchief of the Horde (current or former, depending on how you count, because timey-whimey), Garrosh Hellscream, will answer any questions you’d care to throw at him! If you can see this post, then the floor is now open for questions. You can submit your question to the Warchief through any number of means: as a comment on this post, an e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com, a tweet to @GarroshHllscrm, an inquiry posted to Ask.fm, or a message through Garrosh’s Facebook or Google+ (feel free to add him on any and all of these, by the way!).
As I’ve noted before, there are a few simple ground rules for questions:
- No spoilers! Garrosh’s blog incarnation is currently living out the events of the Patch 5.2 timeframe. If you’d like to include some sort of comical nod or foreshadowing toward future events in your question, feel free! But questions explicitly referencing events that have not yet occurred in the blog will not be answered.
- No anonymous questions will be answered. You can submit your question under your in-game character name, a blogging pseudonym, a Twitter handle, whatever, but there must be an author to whom your question can be attributed.
- This should probably go without saying, but no questions will be answered that are clearly engaged in harassing, trolling (not you, Bob), antagonizing, or generally disregarding the fun intentions of the endeavor. Questions that seem to disregard, willfully or accidentally, the fundamental premises of the blog (check here for the basics, here if you’re feeling ambitious) will either be ignored or, perhaps, answered in a…derisive manner.
How it works: The live blog proper will begin at 8:30 PM EST (give or take a few minutes). All questions will be added to this post. Refresh this page periodically to check for updates! I expect some responses will come quickly, while others may take a little longer, depending on what sort of response is called for.
While I will never alter the substance of your question, I reserve the right to make minor edits to correct errors (i.e., you refer to Spazzle when you clearly mean Gurtash) or to delete something spoiler-ish from an otherwise good question.
I plan to keep going for as long as I have questions that I think will be interesting and entertaining to answer, so keep them coming! While I plan to try to answer as many questions as possible, I make no guarantee or promise that any individual question will get a response (i.e., I reserve the right to pick and choose which one I answer). When the blog is finished for the night, Garrosh will explicitly announce that, so if there hasn’t been a “Good night, everyone!” type of statement, you can assume there’s still more on the way.
So, with all the quasi-legal technicalities out of the way… Get to it! Ask away! Answers to begin once ol’ you-know-who makes his glorious arrival…
* * * * *
HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Brace your mind and hold on to your ass, because it’s time for yours truly, the one-and-only GARROSH HELLSCREAM, to answer ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU WERE AFRAID TO ASK. Except I guess you weren’t. Because you asked them. SO NICE JOB NOT BEING A BUNCH OF FUCKING PANSIES RIGHT OUT THE GATE.
Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here. Keep ’em coming as you think of ’em…
What do you consider your biggest non-combat achievement? –Zugzug
There are non-combat achievements?
I kid, I kid. Well, not really. But whatever, I should still come up with a kinda-real answer.
You probably wouldn’t see this achievement coming, but: First runner-up in the seventh annual Garadar chili cook-off. Which was amended to first place after… well, something unfortunate happened to original-winner Grok’nar. (My best to his widow.) (And I do mean my best.)
See, this might come as a surprise, but your Warchief isn’t half bad as a cook. As a matter of fact, one of the things I had to get used to when I became Warchief was having OTHER people cooking for me. I was never used to having other people serving me. Just felt weird. Still does. Even up in Northrend, I usually chipped in on odd chores around Warsong Hold if I didn’t have more urgent things to do — as much as I was tough on the troops up on there, I think it was kinda good for morale for them to see I didn’t think I was too good to get my hands dirty with the stuff I was asking them to do. Anyway, every so often I would sneak into the kitchen and help them whip up a few things, even then. I actually found it pretty relaxing. Well, except for Saurfang and his damn picky menu. No pork my ass.
Warchief Garrosh Hellscream,
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible, killing my son, forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks, it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number, has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned – and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing, according to my informants (who shall remain nameless). In short, she has revealed herself to be an enemy of the Alliance and a liability to the Horde, of wich you are warchief.
So my question is: What are you going to DO about her?!
With all due respect,
–Genn Graymane, King of Gilneas
Does anyone smell wet dog in here, or is it just me?
Oh, wait, it’s Genn. He must have picked up that stink from hanging around Varian all day.
Anyway. Let’s take this a little at a time:
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible,
Sounds like a good start.
killing my son,
That’ll teach him to keep his guard up.
forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage
Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks,
Not seeing a problem so far.
it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number,
Your grasp of current events as of like eight years ago is impeccable.
has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned –
The WHAT you say?
and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing,
Holy fucking shit, is THAT where that motherfucker went?!
according to my informants (who shall remain nameless).
I… okay, hang on. Here’s where you’re starting to chase your tail. So to speak. Okay, so you’re telling me, SOME PEOPLE, who YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHO THEY ARE OR HOW THEY KNOW THIS SHIT, BUT OH BOY BELIEVE ME, THEY SURE KNOW WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT, these people tell you blah blah blah Sylvanas? And so…you’re asking me, what, if I’m going to lay the smackdown on her or something? And, say, go attack the Forsaken or some shit, who by COMPLETE COINCIDENCE happen to be the same people who KICKED YOUR ASS, only now I’m going to go after them because OH NO YOU DON’T LIKE SYLVANAS?
Well, get in line, chief. Nobody likes Sylvanas. Other the people who are already dead, but that’s their damage. And for real, I’m not going to break off one chunk of the Horde and go stage, what? a civil war or some shit against ANOTHER major part of the Horde, just because I think their leader’s kind of a jerk.
Come on, who’s going to be a big enough asshat to play THAT card?
Do you have a sure fire cure for head aches? –Toka
The only one I’ve found that works pretty consistently is that once Dontrag and Utvoch get going with their damn yammering, and going on and on about whatever the fuck they’re saying, and the headache starts kicking in, you watch them pretty close — I know it might hurt your eyes a little at first, but hang in there, you’ve gotta push through that part — and then when you see them position themselves good and close, you reach over and smack their heads together good and hard. I can’t stress this enough: you can’t be shy about really putting a good CRACK into cracking them together. Then, worst case scenario, they’ll usually shut up for a little while, or better yet at least one of them will lose consciousness for at least an hour or two. Plus when they come to, seems like they end up suffering some really killer headaches themselves, which, you know, poetic justice. SMACKED DOWN BY IRONY, BITCHES.
Of course, if your particular headaches aren’t D&U related, I don’t know what to tell you. <shrug>
Do you believe in ghosts? —@RuekieShaman
I… Hang on.
You’re asking me…if I believe in ghosts?
Rook, what planet do you live on? We have an entire fucking FACTION of the Horde that keeps ghosts around as fucking bankers and shit. Every been to Stratholme? Scholomance? Like fifteen other places I can think of right off the top of my head? Dude, I had the ghost of my MOM following me around for a few weeks like a year ago! Where have YOU been?
So you know what? Let me see your “do you believe in ghosts?” question and raise you this one:
Do you believe in goblins?
What do you do to relax? –LazyPeon
Well, let’s see. Writing the ol’ EPIC VERSE can be a good way to unwind, unless I write myself into one of those corners where there’s something I want to say but I can’t come up with something that rhymes with “orange,” because who the fuck had the bright idea to invent a word that like NOTHING rhymes with. And when I have a little down time between meetings and missions of conquest and, you know, tax audits and shit, back when I was starting as Warchief, I used to sneak in a few games of cribbage with Eitrigg. Only that old guy was way too good at that game, so he usually won, and that wasn’t exactly so great for my mood. Lately I’ve been trying to teach Malkorok how to play, but I mean, he’s good at his job and all but overall he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and so I end up having to repeat myself a lot, and re-explain things, and that pisses me off a lot, too. Pretty much the only thing I can think of that I found consistently relaxing, actually, was doing some barbecuing, or whipping up a big pot of something, but like I was saying a few questions ago, since becoming Warchief I haven’t had that much of a chance to do much cooking myself. So there goes that one.
Um. So I guess the point is that apparently I have a pretty fucking stressful life. Thanks for reminding me, peon. Fuck.
What are you going to do when Shay wants to date? What if it is the Black Prince? Or Prince Anduin? –Zugzug
I…
…
DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT SHIT
ESPECIALLY THE LAST PART OF THAT SHIT
WHICH IS SHITTY SHIT EVEN BY SHIT STANDARDS HOLY SHIT
…
The fuck is WRONG with you people coming up with this stuff?!
So…excuse me a minute. I think I need to go sharpen Gorehowl.
[OOC aside, because I love to tease: There is an upcoming comic, already written and partially sketched out, involving Shayari bringing a prospective boyfriend to meet Garrosh. Yes, really.]
Out of sheer curiosity, any other pastry loves *besides* lemon squares? —Aranya Ver’sarn
Lime squares. A pale imitation, but they’ll do in a pinch.
I have also been known on occasion to pick up one of those giant chocolate chip cookies and spend the afternoon strolling around Orgrimmar munching while I’m doing my business. One of my prouder moments, actually, was one time when I was doing that, and D and/or U, whoever the fuck because who even cares enough to remember, started bugging me about that shit, and I actually managed to knock him out by smacking him over the head WITH the giant cookie.
So, you know, that’s…wait for it…the way the cookie crumbles. (THAT’S RIGHT, GARROSH GOT JOKES)
Has anyone turned down your lemon squares, and did they survive it? How successful were they among the draenai ladies? —@SintraEdrien
You know, I don’t usually get in the habit of running around OFFERING the lemon squares. People are much more likely to come rolling up on me ASKING for them, especially since word about them leaked onto the internet, and from that point, hoo boy, every motherfucker with an Azeroth Online account figured they could just hit me up for a sample, because when you make the internet easy enough for any fuckhead to use, every fuckhead will.
Where was I?
But…no. I can’t think of anyone who ever turned down the lemon squares. Even with as much fail as I have surrounding me in a usual day at the office, even THOSE failures don’t fail enough to fail to notice the lemony awesomeness of Greatmother’s recipe. I would guess if they did they would pretty definitely find a way to screw up their chances with the draenei girls. I, on the other hand, rarely have problems when I offer some sweets to the ladies, draenei or otherwise, seeing as, y’know, #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh.
Hang on. Is Shay reading this? Where’s that delete key again? SPAZZLE!
How much do you weigh? –Jordyn
7’2″, 340 lbs. of pure muscle.
And bone.
And sinew.
And…internal…body part…um… organs and… kidney stones…erm… YOU GET THE POINT.
As a leader, what are the toughest decisions you have to make? Lok’tar Ogar —@DonnerB123
The toughest ones, no surprise, are the biggest ones. Which pretty much come down to decisions of life and death. Like…literally, who to kill and who not to kill. Really brief cases in point: there was that time a was back (and some of you people might not even have been reading here when this was going on, which raises the question WHY THE FUCK NOT), when me and Mokvar and a few others were trapped in this alternate timeline where Dranosh Saurfang was still alive…only pretty much the only way for us to save the Horde was for me to pretty much kill him. On the other hand… every day, here in Orgrimmar, I’m surrounded by the Dontrags and Utvochs and Lor’themars and whoever the fuck elses, one annoying fucker after another griping about nuisance after nuisance…and I have to decide NOT to kill them. Because reasons. I guess.
We live in an imperfect world, DonnerB123. An ugly, imperfect world.
So . . . I simply can’t seem to get the hang of this: Is it Dontvoch and Utrag, or Dontut and Vochtrag? My head hurts . . . —@SintraEdrien
Nobody knows, Sintra. Nobody fucking knows.
Would you ever want to return to Nagrand? —@Malkorok_
Oh, hey, Malk. Taking a break from reading that Cribbage for Fucking Idiots guide I gave you, huh?
Anyway… Would I want to return to Nagrand, like to visit? Sure. I’ve been back a couple times to see Greatmother. Not for a while now, granted, but still. So yeah, it would be nice to see the old place again, one of these days, when things calm down.
Return for good, though? Doubt it. Nagrand’s always going to be home, mind you, but my life is in Azeroth now. The past is the past, and all that, and you can’t go back. Well, you can, but, you know…well, don’t remind me. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.
When are you finally going to get married? —@Greatmom_Geyah
Oh, hey, check out the timing there. I was just talking about you, Greatmother.
And…yeah. Okay, Greatmother, look. We’re all adults here, so I’m going to be real with you. You know the old saying, right? Why buy the cow, when you literally have dozens of hot women of every description lining up around Grommash Hold for a chance to take turns at…
Hang on.
Is Shayari reading this or not? Can somebody go check on this for me? Seriously.
Warchief, watch out for elven ships around durotar… Your habit of antagonizing the idiot in charge of Silvermoon could have repercussions, now that they’re stockpiling Mogu weaponry. Possibly Forsaken ships too, you KNOW those two are in bed. Figuratively. Though maybe this is the elves ending that? What do you think about this? –Ritaba
Okay… I’m not sure if this is actually a question, but… Let me put it this way, Ritaba. Ask me again how worried I am about Regent-Lord Hair-Care rising up like an avenging demon (*chortle*) and rallying his wrathful people (*guffaw*) to unleash a blood wave of vengeance on me.
Yeah. Like zero…
Dear Warchief- could you pleeeease appoint us a leader? Ever since the last Sunstrider went wacko on us, we’ve been lost… —@SintraEDrien
…aaaaaand here’s case in point as to why.
What is your favorite place in all of Azeroth? –Orgrimmar Travel Agency
You know what? You probably wouldn’t guess this, but Mulgore. I really like Mulgore. Reminds me of Nagrand a lot — rolling plains, open skies, all that kind of thing.
Honorable mention for weekends and vacations: What happens at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace, stays at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace.
Least favorite: Ashenvale. I hate Ashenvale. For multiples reasons, most of which revolve the same fel-forsaken part of it.
Warchief, I must know,
Much is known of the Kor’kron’s activities in Pandaria, and the Blackrock clan’s work in Orgrimmar and abroad. But what of your Warsong clan? They have been inactive since the Cataclysm, as far as anyone can tell. Do you have any big plans for them coming up? –Grottee Metalbeard, goblin shaman
Now see, I can understand how this could have caused some confusion. Because yeah, the Warsong clan came with me up to Northrend, and they represented a big chunk of our forces when I was in command up there. And then in the time right after the Cataclysm, they were pretty active in Ashenvale (which is not, I might have mentioned, on my list of Favorite Places Ever). And so, yeah, since then, I can see how it might look to you like they’ve gone fairly inactive, but that’s just because the clan hasn’t been operating as much as a singular force. See, before I became Warchief, I was chieftain of the clan, so they represented the main bulk of the forces under my command. Now, though, I have ALL the orcish clans under my jurisdiction, so there isn’t as much need for me to be lining up jobs for the Warsong specifically. They’ve been keeping busy, just not in a way that makes you go “the Warsong orcs are doing THIS over THERE.” Some of them were part of Nazgrim’s detachment heading down to Pandaria, a lot of them have been recruited into the ranks of the Kor’kron along with more than a few Blackrocks, others have been assigned to some other operations I have going on around Orgrimmar. So they’re just getting around more. Spread the love! And by “love,” I mean, of course, “bloody fist of retribution.”
If Varian begged for mercy would you? a: mock him, b: cut off his head, c: take over SW, d: all of the above —@SintraEDrien
Sorry, I can’t get past the first five words without cackling maniacally so hard I fall out of my chair.
Heh. Heheh.
HAAAAA!
What’s your earliest memory? —@LibFeathers
You know, my VERY earliest memories aren’t really specific memories of particular events, just the sort of odds and ends that most people remember. My childhood in Nagrand, obviously — I can remember back, vaguely, to when I was around five or so. My mom was still alive then, so I remember her, and I remember us fighting through the red pox as best we could…which, let me tell you, SUCKED. There was the pet clefthoof I had back then, y’know, before meat supplies started getting thin that one winter, and there was me getting to be friends with Dranosh. We hung out a lot back then, fishing and hunting and stuff — me and Dranosh and Jorin Deadeye, actually, back before Jorin turned out to be a dick. Um… probably my earliest memories of specific events all revolved around my mom — the day when Greatmother told me she’d died, for one. And one, a little while before that, back when the pox was still going on. I’d woken up from this nightmare, and she and I stayed up a while talking about it, and it’s nothing really momentous or even important, but it was just one of those little things that stick with you, you know? Anyway…that’s it for early memories. Not fun, I know. But like…if something’d going to stick in your head from THAT young, it’s almost always going to be something bad, right?
By any chance would you be willing to add any pandaren cultural festivals to be acknowledged? Brewfest does not count. —@ShenWeiPureblossom
Funny coincidence — you should totally go talk to Ji about this. I’ve heard he was talking to some of the other pandas about carrying over some custom you guys had on your wandering turtle island whatever-the-fuck is was, some kind of outdoor festival with noodles or something? Check in with Lunchbox about this, he could probably use a hand setting it up. Hell, I might even try to whip something up myself for it, if it happens. Like I’ve been saying, it’s been too long since I got in the kitchen.
[More OOC teasing: This is indeed on the way. In the not-too-distant future, the Pandaren Noodle Festival comes to Orgrimmar, in a comic/transcript featuring… well… almost the entire damn supporting cast.]
Hail Warchief Hellscream! It has been some time since I have found the time to reply to your writings as things have been quite busy up in Hearthglen lately. Especially with the arrival of his gracious young Highness, Prince Anduin, while he convalesces at Mardenholde for a time. Something about a bell, if I recall. Anyway, onto the question before I tarry on too long.
I had heard from a rather reliable source who would prefer anonymity that some months ago, you suffered from an invasion in Orgrimmar. Was this true, and what occurred? —Tirion Fordring
Oh geez…here we go. Well, at least T-Ford managed to keep it under 5000 words.
So…yeah. I don’t know if I would call it an INVASION, but… a little while back, yeah, there was…an incident. This goes back a few months… May, I think? Anyway, I’m hanging around in Grommash Hold, right? Just minding my own business, plotting world domination, same ol’ same ol’. A regular day at the office. When all of a sudden, out of like NOWHERE, these gnomes start running into the place. And at first, I’m like, DAMMIT MALKOROK, how about some security up in this piece, but then I see the sheer NUMBER of them — there’s hundreds of these motherfuckers. Maybe even THOUSANDS of them. Which, if you know how I feel about gnomes, was just filling me with a level of glee that could have wiped out all life in the universe.
Thing of it is, this wasn’t some actual invasion or ATTACK from the fuckers down in Gnomergan, or…wherever they fuck they’re living these days. The part of Gnome-ville that’s not fucking glowing from radiation and shit. Anyhow, THESE gnomes are all like…the noobiest, weakest, saddest little excuses for underpowered gnomes you’ve ever seen — and seriously, do you KNOW how fucking SAD someone has to be for me to be forced to coin the phrase “underpowered gnomes”?
And so in they come, in sheer numbers too big for the guards to stop them all on the way in — though, believe me, if you saw the trail of bodies you’d know they fucking TRIED — and they come flooding like rats into Grommash Hold, only if they were rats I might actually worry about it more because FLEAS. And here’s the punchline — when they finally got close to me, you know what they’re big finishing move was? They all kept trying to hug and kiss me. Like my foot or some shit. Until I popped a bladestorm, and, you know, eight trillion dead gnomes.
Which is a beautiful way to line up four words, I gotta say.
Do you like to dance? –Jordyn
Draw your own conclusions.
Do you think that maybe Mokvar and Deliana were ever married in a previous life? They seem so . . . together. —@SintraEDrien
DUDE, I don’t know WHAT the fuck to think about those two. Would it SURPRISE me? No. I am WAY past the point where fucking ANYTHING could surprise me around here. So much weird shit has gone on around here the last few years, I consider NOTHING off the menu. Mokvar and that human chick married? Sure, maybe. Half-draenei daughter from years back turns up at the front door? Why the fuck not? Ji Deep-Dish floats around in a fucking balloon and gets his pudgy ass stuck in a honey tree? Sounds normal to me. For real, man, at this point fucking Draz’Zilb the ogre could show up riding Onyxia, who’s been reanimated for like the forty-seventh time as far as anybody can count, with Anduin on a leash dressed like in a bear suit, and when Draz belches Anduin’s been conditioned to tell a knock-knock joke, and my reaction would be “Yeah, sure, why didn’t I see it coming?” WELCOME TO AZEROTH, WHERE THE BOTTOMLESS CUP OF WHAT THE FUCK FLOWS FREELY IN ALL DIRECTIONS.
Warchief, I really loved your poem about your pet clefthoof, it really brought a tear to my eye. Could you please share another sample of your EPIC VERSE from your childhood back in Garadar? –Khizzara
Hmm… okay, let me dig out the old journal and see if I can find something for you. Now, keep in mind, my poems back in those days weren’t nearly as polished, but let’s see…
Okay.
There was a little orc
Who ate a little pork
Over in the breakfast nook
And when he was bad
He wished that he was good
Cause Greatmom’s got a mean right hook
EPIC VERSE!
Wait… that’s… yeah, that one maybe doesn’t come off looking so good.
Um… I’ll see what else I can find.
When will you ever figure out that the constant stream of adventurers coming to annoy you about gold were sent from me? —@M_Grimtotem
OH FUCK YOU, MAGATHA
So for anyone who missed this, a ways back, Madame Upright Hamburger here stirred up some shit on Twitter, where she went on about having hidden a stash of gold somewhere in my damn throne room, and offering it as a giveaway to anyone who could find it. Which set off a borderline-noob-gnome-like influx of random motherfuckers running into Grommash Hold and trying to turn the damn place upside down looking for the loot. So finally, FINALLY, after Malkorok and his people rounded up and fucking executed like I don’t even know how many of these people, my throne room stopped being the hot spot for random asshats to go hang out. You know, aside from the random asshats who hang out there professionally. And before anybody starts getting all excited, let me reiterate: THERE IS NO TREASURE HIDDEN IN MY THRONE ROOM, OKAY? Seriously. The last thing I want to have happen a little ways down the road is like another ten or fifteen or twenty-five random people to come running through into my command room expecting to collect loot.
What’s the latest between you and Zaela? —@MyGarona
Look, Greatmom, I’ve told you, stop trying to… wait.
Garona?
Seriously?
Jealous much?
Look, there’s nothing going on with me and Zaela, okay?
…
…
…that you need to concern yourself with.
<waggle>
What’s the deal with people thinking Mokvar and I are a couple? No matter how many times I try, I can’t convince ANYONE! —Deliana Hawthorne
Because, see, Lor’themar can say he’s a dude, and he can call himself a dude, and he can stroll around all day in dude’s clothes and using all the right pronouns and shit, and he can talk himself red in the face trying to tell everybody he’s a dude, but at the end of the day, people with eyes and still look at him and see that he’s Lor’themar.
Also, who the hell let HER in here? MALK! How about some security, dammit?!
What’s your favorite tipple? Beer? Wine? Liquor? If any, what variety do you enjoy in particular? —@SintraEDrien
Holy shit, Sintra, you’ve sure got a lot of questions.
I’m pretty simple as far as my drinking tastes go. Beer and grog, a some rum on occasion. They have some pretty good varieties out of Stranglethorn, so I’ll pick up a bottle or two when I have the chance. Maybe a little cherry grog on occasion, but that’s about as fancy as I get with it. Although, you want to know who’s MAJORLY into the weird fruity drinks, like those ones that come with the little umbrellas every single time like there’s a fucking law prohibiting their sale without them, like drinking the drink has a chance of proccing rain and the damn umbrella has to be included as a fucking safety measure? Malkorok. No joke. Dude can’t suck down enough of that shit.
Your guess is as good as mine.
Why don’t you like us? We just want to help. —@Dontrag_Utvoch
…
Do you want me to get into the list chronologically, alphabetically, or in order of importance?
You know what? It’s not even worth it. It’s like…fuck, it’s like trying to explain to the damn wolf pup why you’re yelling at it two hours after it peed on the carpet. What’s even the fucking point?
Although…you know what’s funny? Check it: Damned if I can remember which of these fuckers is which, but I know, rank-wise, Dontrag is a sergeant, and Utvoch is a scout. Now it’s kinda-sorta funny that after like nine years in the Horde military, Utvoch still hasn’t managed to get promoted above the absolute lowest possible rank there is. Like, the day you show up, they make you a scout, and here he is a decade later and he’s STILL only managed to keep himself half a rung up from peon.
So that’s good for a chuckle. But you want to know the disturbing part? Back when I first met General Nazgrim, in Northrend, dude was rank sergeant. So that means that until I took over and started doing promotions and reassignments, fucking DONTRAG AND NAZGRIM WERE THE SAME DAMN RANK.
On the other hand, I suppose we don’t know for sure that Dontrag COULDN’T steer a ship in a straight line without crashing it, so…
Anyhow. Okay, one more, so let’s see what we’ve got to wrap up.
When are we going to hear the rest of @Mokvar_Scribe‘s tale? The people want answers! —Deliana Hawthorne
Wait, her again? DAMMIT MALKOROK, GET ON THIS!
But, okay, to answer your question:
Starting…NOW.*
That’s it for questions for tonight. Thanks to all of my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS for contributing, and to all of my enemies who came by, FUCK YOU ALL BUT THANKS FOR THE PAGEVIEWS, NOW HIT RFRESH A FEW MORE TIMES THEN CROAK.
I’m out, people. More soon.
* * * * *
*VERY soon, in fact — as an added perk for those of you who’ve stayed this late into the going, well…count to ten, click back to the main page, and rejoin the ongoing tale of Mokvar, Garrosh, and more!
Meanwhile, for those of you coming late to the party, don’t worry, you haven’t missed your chance to pose your questions to the Warchief — there’s always his monthly mailbag! Next edition coming March 2! Feel free to e-mail, or use the handy-dandy form below:
For whom the bell tolls
Well THAT was a big whole production to go through for not much of anything.
Last night, I gathered a select group of Horde personnel at the Emperor’s Reach – an ancient, abandoned mogu structure that we found in Kun-Lai – to finally tap into the power of the Divine Bell. Malkorok brought a battalion of Kor’kron troops to oversee the proceedings, including some who were hand-picked to have the honor of being the first to be gifted with new power. The best of the best. Juggernauts.
Blademaster Ishi was on hand as well, along with a few other select Horde heroes from the Pandaren campaign, and once everyone was gathered and ready, I took up the hammer…mallet…um…weird-looking club doohicky? Look, for honest, I’m not sure WHAT that thing was supposed to be. But it was better suited for ringing a bell than Gorehowl would have been, so whatever. Point is, I cracked out that bad boy, and for the first time in who-knows-how-long, the Divine Bell rang.
And so marks the last point in the evening that things went to plan.
As the Bell rang, we could see the dark, shadowy outlines of bizarre, twisted creatures appearing on the platform. Transparent and shifting, but just enough to know they were there. So THAT’S what these sha look like. Up to this point, I’d only seen them in bits and pieces – claws mostly – when they’d partly seized onto other people.
Yes, I said “partly.” I wouldn’t have thought that what happened to Burzum was only partial corruption by the sha. Little did I know. Because now, I was treated to a front-row seat as, one by one, the sha descended onto our Kor’kron juggernauts…and transformed them into sha themselves. They were horrible to behold – I can see why the pandas and even Tak-Tak yammer on about steering clear of them. I tried to urge the Kor’kron on and encourage them to seize control of the sha energy coursing through them, but no such luck. They couldn’t. They lost themselves to it. And in the end there was nothing to be done but for the Horde champions on hand to slay the Kor’kron-turned-sha before they ran out of control.
Clearly, Malkorok had overestimated the mental toughness of that first batch of Kor’kron. I was just about to let Ishi show the rest of the bunch how a true veteran of the Mag’har does it, when I was interrupted by a surprise visitor.
Want to know who?
YOU WILL NOT FUCKING BELIEVE THIS SHIT.
Anduin.
Yes, THAT Anduin.
Anduin Wrynn, Prince of Stormwind.
Anduin fucking Wrynn, Prince of Stormwind, former prisoner of General Nazgrim until who the fuck even knows what happened I mean WTF, and newest volunteer to be a speechifying hemorrhoid on my curvy brown ass, because, hey, why not give fucking EVERYONE a turn at this point, right?
So, yeah, fucking ANDUIN comes strolling on up like it’s something to do – props, by the way, to my alleged BODYGUARD Malkorok for the crack security job there – and starts yapping away about the dangers of the Bell, and Garrosh-you-mustn’t. You know, the ol’ Baine-Vol’jin standard. Same tune, different verse.
Worked just about as well for him. I shrugged him off and rang the Bell again, and this time, the sha magic descended onto Ishi. Unlike the initial Kor’kron, he actually put up a fight and resisted…for a moment, anyway. Then, after a minute, he was altered into a sha as well. Except in his case, even with his body gone, his voice remained.
His voice, but not his words.
While our champions fought to subdue him, Ishi started spewing out words consumed by fear and rage and despair. No sign remaining of the strong, brave orc I knew, despite my urging for him to retake control.
In the end, there was nothing left – again – but for our champions to put him to rest. But of all his rantings before he fell, there was one that kept echoing in my thoughts.
Why should we be slaves to honor, when we could slaughter the children of our enemies while they sleep? My blade thirsts for Alliance blood!
Control your anger, I told him. There is killing, and then there is murder, I told him. We’re not the ones who murder innocents. We’re not the ones who kill children, confused and far from home. Left to rot in a festering swamp. Baited into a coward’s trap, tricked into an early death by a vainglorious king…
And then I looked up to find the presumptuous whelp of Varian Wrynn yipping at me.
He was fourteen years old.
Among the orcs, that made him a man.
The human brat used some mallet to crack and silence the Divine Bell, and I was far past my threshold for patience. I swung my hammer at him. He ducked out of the way, and the blow slammed into the Bell, which was already cracking apart. The Bell shattered, and the pieces crumbled onto the whelp, burying him under a massive heap of metal and stone. I could hear him cry out as his bones snapped. Then silence.
Good. Let Varian have a taste of true suffering.
It’s back to the drawing board for us. For now. I’d underestimated the effort it would take to master this sha power. Ishi and the others were too weak-willed, and they failed me as a result.
This is what I get for not taking matters into my own hands.
When the time comes, soon, I won’t repeat their failure. And I won’t repeat the mistake of delegating our fate to lesser orcs. Too much depends on it. Too high a price already. The Horde will prevail, strong, proud, united in purpose – a rebirth of glory. And it all depends on me to lead the way. It’s ALWAYS depended on me. I see that now.
I won’t fail. I CAN’T fail.
I have a destiny.
I’m the One.
Monday mailbag
So I was finally able to get a decent internet connection going again, long enough to get my mail sorted out, and I figured since I have a decent bunch of letters from you peeps, and I haven’t offered any mailbag love for a while, I might as well do just that. Because you know me – your Warchief is nothing if not all about the love.
It’s my first weekend back in Silvermoon in I don’t know how long, and man, is the mood different around here these days. Whether you’re going to think that’s good news or bad news depends on how you interpret that.
Remember my first letter? The one where I was basically advocating high treason against the Regent-Lord? A lot of us used to be dissatisfied that he was doing a whole bunch of nothing. The impression around here, at least if you believe the spin from the Silvermoon Star-Tribune, is that the Regent-Lord’s approval numbers are way up since he started getting jiggy with it down in Pandaria. Yes, the Star-Tribune is calling what Lor’themar’s doing down there “decisive leadership” and “proactive management”. And the public seems to be buying it.
Either that, or they’re just glad that he’s somewhere else, and hoping he eats a Mogu hammer somewhere along the way. That’s the other way to look at it.
To be honest, I’m not sure which one I’m buying, yet. That’s something I’ll have to think about when I get back to Pandaria.
–A Concerned Citizen
Hey, ACC. You know, my first reaction here is that people probably ARE a little happier about Lori because he’s been away. Problem is, if that were true, you’d think that I would start finding him less annoying since he’s gone BACK to Silvermoon recently. But…nope. He high-tailed it out of Pandaria, then promptly made a big ol’ cluster fuck of that whole business with the sha box…and the less said about the sideshow going on in my Earth Online guild, the better. I suppose it’s still a LITTLE less irritating, but only because I don’t have to listen to him live and in person. At least until he comes strolling back down here again.
Also, not for nothing, but are you sure the reports in your little dorky newspaper are reliable? Who’s doing the writing? It’s amazing what a little propaganda can do for a ruler’s perception. Or so I’ve heard.
I’ve been following some of your interactions with Lord Theron and I was wondering if you limited your observations to him or if you think all Blood Elves are like that.
I’ve been in Pandaria just about since the beginning (but I can’t explain how Anduin got away–that was General Nazgrim’s job, not mine) and have tried to do my part for the Horde. Also: Pandaren don’t seem to have barbers. Anywhere. Not a one on this damn continent. You should give us credit for coming here anyways even with that sacrifice.
Respectfully,
–Vyrin Dawnstar, Shrine of Two Moons, Pandaria
P.S: If anyone told you about Anduin and the Temple of the Red Crane, I deny it all. Not me. Nope. Must’ve been someone else helping him. If that hasn’t been brought to your attention yet, please ignore this part.
Hmm… Well, Vyrin, I guess that depends on what you mean by “all blood elves are like that.” I mean, like what? Spindly and break-easy-ish? Because, well, sorry, but you guys kind of are. A little too preoccupied with the uber-luxurious hair? I refer you to your second paragraph. (By the by, I think the lack of barbers in Pandaria is because the pandas just shed. Can you imagine the cleanup crews you’d need in Silvermoon if the elves were like that?) That said, I DON’T think all blood elves are like ol’ Eyepatch in the absolutely-completely-utterly-useless department. I mean, Lady Liadrin has always struck me as pretty sharp and on top of things, and…um…okay, give me a minute here, I’m sure I can come up with a second example.
Hang on.
Um…
Okay, I’m going to have to get back to you on this, but seriously, I’ve got a…reasonably strong suspicion there’s at least one more I can name.
Also, though, what? Anduin at the Temple of the Red Crane? I’ve heard some scouting reports about that Red Crane place, actually. I may have to do some followup on that place…
That scar on your lip is so sexy. It makes you look very manly and tough. I’ve been wondering though how you got it. I’m sure there is some extraordinary tale of bravery and valor associated with it. I’d like to hear it.
Your devoted admirer,
–Wega
Hoo boy. Here we go again with Wega. So…yeah… For those of you who maybe haven’t noticed, Wega is talking about the scar I have on the right side of my upper lip:
So, okay, I know you’d probably figure I got the scar from some glorious battle, or one of the times I’ve squared off with Varian, or something else like that, but as it turns out, it was really more of a fluke injury. One night about a while back, I was trying to reorganize some of my junk in Grommash Hold, and I was stashing a couple boxes of stuff on a high shelf. While I was stretching up to reach the shelf, I lost my footing and fell over. Now, ordinarily that wouldn’t have been a big deal, except it just so happened that Mortimer was there with me, and was curled up on the floor sound asleep. Until I slipped and fell, and landed right on top of him, and he was so startled that before he knew what was going on, he snapped at me. And, yeah, got a nice chunk of my lip.
So, that was fun.
Gotta say, though, in a way it was kind of endearing afterward – once Mortimer knew what was going on, he DID act all sad and apologetic, and spent the next few days following me around trying to make nice. Once again, wyverns are better people than most people.
Now granted, having my lip cut open by wyvern fangs wasn’t exactly fun, but depending on how you look at it, I still don’t think I’ve gotten the worst of it from Mortimer. That honor probably goes to Malkorok. A few weeks ago, I was talking to Malkorok while I was getting ready to leave the Sanctum of Two Moons, then walked past him to the landing platform out front. Mortimer was following along behind me, and just as he was passing Malkorok, Mortimer stopped, lifted one leg up…and fucking peed on him. Oh man, you should have seen the look on Malky’s face. Especially when I pointed out, “Dude, considering what that usually signifies for a wyvern, you LITERALLY just got owned.”
Heh.
Hehehe.
<snort>
I want to thank you for helping us DPS kids and, you know, stuff.
I have a question though.
What happened to all your hair? I saw pictures of you and you had hair at one time, but now you don’t. Do you plan to grow your hair again? How would you wear it?
–Ruekie, Shaman-in-Training, Domination Point
What is this, fucking “Everybody Ask Garrosh to Explain His Personal Appearance Week”?
Oh, wait, hang on, it’s one of the kids.
What is this, blankety-blank “Everybody Ask Garrosh to Explain His Personal Appearance Week”? You kids – DO NOT read that first part from a couple lines up, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?
Anyway, yeah, Ruekie, I used to have a ponytail, right up through my time in Northrend. I wore my hair like that going all the way back to when I was a kid. To tell you the truth, it was pretty much the best of iffy options, as far as something I could do with my hair that would look maybe-sorta decent. See, while Grom had a really thick, full mane of hair, I guess I must have gotten mine from my mom’s side of the family, because my hair was always fairly coarse and stringy and just…patchy all over my scalp. Even as a kid, I pretty much had the beginnings of male pattern baldness going. And really, it shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise that I wouldn’t have that great of a head of hair – you know the old saying, grass doesn’t grow on a busy street.
Anyway, the ponytail was just a way to yank it all together that didn’t look flat-out terrible. Eventually, when I moved to Orgrimmar, I figured the hell with it and just cut it off. Which first of all, is much more low-maintenance. No more spending ten minutes every morning tugging it all together and trying to bind it up and then having the band be too loose so you start feeling it slipping out little by little all morning, or getting that one strand caught halfway through the pull-through and then feeling your roots getting pulled every time you look to one side, or…ugh, yeah, whatever. Way easier this way. Not to mention it’s way more practical in battle – it’s one less thing to get caught somewhere, and one less way for an enemy to grab you from behind.
Besides, much better to just embrace the baldness and go with it, rather than try to compensate with something that looks maybe-not-quite-terrible-if-you-squint-a-little. This way, it just announces to the world, “Yes, I’m bald. DEAL WITH IT.” Confidence is very sexy, don’t you think?
(Maybe I shouldn’t have put it that way. I can hear Wega scribbling out another letter as we speak…)
Cool little web form you have here. Sometimes those techie goblins do have some good ideas. (Not often, but sometimes.)
Anywho, my question for you this week is this: If you were to retire from warchiefin’ tomorrow, who would you choose as your successor and why?
Thanks!
–Kaija
You know, Kaija, this is actually a pretty decent question. For all the good things about the Horde, we don’t really have a clear line of succession. I mean, obviously if I were going to retire – presumably years down the road when I’m a gray-haired (FIGURE OF SPEECH, RUEKIE, DON’T GET EXCITED) old man basking in the triumphant glow of my many glorious victories – I would be in a position to sit back, think it over, and pick out an appropriate successor as Warchief. But what if something happens before I have the chance to? What if I get sick or injured? What if somebody decides it would be a bright idea to throw me a surprise party for my 70th birthday, and the ol’ ticker finally gives out? What if – I know this is a long shot, but still – what if I die in battle somehow before we even get to the wrinkly stage? What then? WHAT THEN, I ASK YOU?
So, it’s probably not a bad idea to put a little thought into who a good successor would be, and maybe establish that that person is next in line, just in case something happens.
And then, you know, make it very clear to that person that I’ve left the Kor’kron with special instructions to follow in the event that I should die under circumstances that are in any way even remotely fishy. Such instructions including, but not limited to, the agonizingly slow execution of the successor, their siblings, their friends, their relatives, their next-door neighbors, and anyone who’s ever been seen being polite to them in public.
You know. Just FYI.
Anyway, we might as well be systematic about this, so I’m going to review some of the likely candidates to follow me as Warchief – and just for shits and giggles, I’m going to group them into suitable categories and even give my best estimate at their odds of getting the nod. Place your bets now.
THE “OH SNAP DID I SAY THAT” DIVISION
VOL’JIN
1,000,000 to 1
Not really an option, because guess what, bitches? HE’S DEAD. HAHAHA <snort> that cracks me up more than it probably should.
THE “I GUESS I’M OBLIGATED TO AT LEAST MENTION THEM” DIVISION
JASTOR GALLYWIX
999,995 to 1
I mean…I guess he’s technically leader of the Bilgewater goblins, but… Well, like, does anybody even know where the fuck he IS half the time? I’m pretty sure the only times I’ve ever seen him were at the meeting of Horde leaders to prepare for the Theramore attack, and the celebration in Orgrimmar afterward. And, well, with the meeting, I pretty much sent notices to every goblin I could think of and then crossed my fingers hoping that word would reach him. And at the celebration…yeah, mountains of free food and booze, so of course he was going to show up for that. Honestly, I don’t get why the guy’s so low-profile. He had a fucking pleasure palace built in Azshara, and you can’t even find him THERE. Believe you me, if I ever commissioned the construction of Garrosh’s Pleasure Palace, you could call off the search parties, my ass would be there.
Hmm. Hang on a second, I need to jot something down on next month’s agenda planner.
LOR’THEMAR THERON
500,000 to 1
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA… Yeah, sure, this guy as Warchief. Do I really even need to elaborate here? Come on.
SYLVANAS WINDRUNNER
200,000 to 1
You know, she would actually be a pretty strong candidate – to her credit, she IS intelligent, charismatic, and competent – if she didn’t creep the living FUCK out of everyone. Not to mention make you worry that she might then replace that aforementioned living fuck with some kind of weird-ass UNDEAD fuck under her control.
BAINE BLOODHOOF
150,000 to 1
He’s a great warrior, he takes good care of his people, and you can practically see Cairne when you look in his eyes (not that that makes me at all awkward, no sir). He’s also freaking Vol’jin Lite what with the bitching and the moaning and the OMG Garrosh how could you. Because if there’s one thing you don’t want to stand for, it’s actually GOING TO WAR with the people you are ALLEGEDLY AT WAR WITH. Last thing the Horde needs is a fucking carebear in charge. And Thrall me no Thralls – Guy Smiley sat on his hands way too much too.
THE “I BET YOU DIDN’T THINK I KNEW ABOUT THIS MEME” DIVISION
A BASIC CAMPFIRE
5000 to 1
HAHA SEE I BET YOU ASSHOLES DIDN’T THINK I HAD A SENSE OF HUMOR ABOUT THAT SHIT.
THE “DIDN’T YOU RETIRE LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO” DIVISION
DREK’THAR
500 to 1
Chieftain of the Frostwolf clan and friend to Durotan way back in the day. Lived through the corruption of the orcs, but refused to drink the blood of Mannoroth – granted it was largely because Durotan ordered the Frostwolves not to, but it still shows a certain level of principle AND loyalty to his clan all at the same time. Greatmother speaks about him just fondly enough to make me feel uncomfortable. The main down side, other than being blind and spending most of his time getting rolled around in a wheelchair by Captain Galvanger these days, is that since the Cataclysm…well…not to be mean, but let’s face it. Dude has just gone batshit senile. And that’s not even getting into the whole thing with him shitting himself. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Old age is not kind.
EITRIGG
200 to 1
He’s been around for ages, advised both me and Thrall, has watched over Orgrimmar while I’ve been down here in Pandaria, and has always been staunchly devoted to the well-being of the Horde. If we had some kind of lifetime achievement award to dole out, I would sign him up for it tomorrow, even if he DID get a little grumbly with me over the Theramore thing. Who didn’t, right? Shows what those fuckers know. Anyway. The point is, though, as much as I like Eitrigg, he’s pretty much one of those guys who’s basically a permanent lieutenant. You know the ones. Year after year, they’re always second in command to one general after another, and somewhere along the line, after like the fourth guy gets promoted over them to take command, you realize there’s a reason for it. Perfectly good at his job, but he’s just never going to be suited for the big chair.
Also, if he were in charge, can you IMAGINE how much time freaking Tirion would probably be spending in Orgrimmar? Do you really want to subject people to THAT?
VAROK SAURFANG
100 to 1
Veteran of two wars. Served as Thrall’s right hand and as my executive officer in Northrend. He even served as acting Warchief for a little while, that time when I was off the grid. At the age of nine zillion, he’s still one of the biggest badasses around. He doesn’t sleep – he waits. Death once had a near-Saurfang experience. Mannoroth became more powerful by drinking HIS blood. There was going to be a street named after him in Orgrimmar, but the plan was canceled for safety reasons because nobody crosses Saurfang and lives. When warlocks make someone run away in fear, they pay a royalty to him. He’s considered an honorary shaman because he commands the element of surprise. I’m at least 50% sure some of these facts are made up. But you get the point.
So what’s the case against? You mean, other than at least two or three occasions that he’s threatened to kill me? You mean OTHER THAN THAT? Frankly, he’s a holdover from a Horde that’s a thing of the past – too old, too sentimental, too backward-thinking when we’re trying to move our people forward. Too willing to extend an olive branch to the Alliance when we need to be smashing them over the head with the whole fucking tree.
Mostly the threatening-to-kill-me thing, though. I don’t want to tempt fate. (Along similar lines, by the way, fate doesn’t want to tempt Saurfang.)
THE “I MIGHT ACTUALLY CONSIDER PICKING ONE OF YOU PEOPLE” DIVISION
WARLORD CROMUSH
50 to 1
This one is a dark horse candidate, no question. But the dude did yeoman’s work in Gilneas when he had the thankless job of keeping Sylvanas marginally under control, he’s run a tight ship in Hillsbrad at a time when the Horde finally secured a firm hold on the region, and he’s been our primary command officer in the Eastern Kingdoms going on a couple years now. The fact that he’s been able to work with the Forsaken with some measure of success is a major plus – yeah, they’re creepy and sketchy and just plain ol’ EEEESH, but they’re handy to have around. He probably needs some more grooming for higher things, but he’s worked his way into the conversation for future high-profile assignments.
MALKOROK
25 to 1
You know, Malkorok really has most of the bases covered: he’s smart, uncompromising, and relentlessly devoted to the Horde, with a sharp tactical mind and an indisputable ability to get shit done. He’s reshaped the Kor’kron, tightened up security, and demonstrated he’s one of the people you want fighting beside you on the battlefield.
Down side? Well, let me put it this way.
About a year ago, some goblins tried to start up a business making wyvern food. They did all kinds of tests to find a good formula for it as far as ingredients, they did focus groups to give it the most appealing packaging, they launched a huge advertising campaign for it and made sure it was easy to find at all the vendors…and absolutely nobody bought it. How come? Because for all the things they had going for them and all the effort they put into packaging it just right…wyverns just didn’t like it.
Draw your own conclusions.
GENERAL NAZGRIM
10 to 1
You all know this guy, and have probably worked with him on at least an occasion or two. And really, if being Warchief was purely a military matter, this would probably be the guy. He’s an excellent strategist and tactician, he adapts well on the fly, and since he came up through the ranks the old-fashioned way (I remember him serving under me in Northrend as a piddly-ass sergeant…and to put that in perspective, remember, freaking DONTRAG made sergeant), he appreciates what it’s like to be one of the grunts in the trenches and isn’t afraid to get in there and get his hands dirty by their side. Okay, there was that whole disaster where he shit the bed on security and let Anduin get away, but maybe he can delegate. But here’s the thing: being Warchief isn’t solely a military job. It’s also the political head of the Horde, which means that as Warchief, Nazgrim would essentially be steering the ship of state. And, well…we all know what happens when that guy gets near a ship.
WARLORD ZAELA
5 to 1
Leader of the Dragonmaw and a no-kidding-around badass warrior. She took command of the Dragonmaw clan after helping to overthrow the nutjob “Warchief” Mor’ghor – gotta admire someone who has the stones to take down a corrupted leader for the good of the clan. She was new to leadership at the time, and I’ll admit I was probably a little tough on her in my assessments early on, but she’s really grown into the role, and she’s been stepping up to work on some more projects for me the last few months. I’ll also admit I might be swayed by seeing how she went about her business in that other world. Still a little green, though…I mean, green in the “inexperienced” sense. Not green in the fel-magic-drinky-drinky-demon-blood-grr-rarr-proud-ancient-culture-down-the-drain-oops sense. Was that insensitive? Anyway, she could probably stand to have a few more years working closely under the Warchief before she’s in line for the job herself. But she’s definitely on the rise.
WARLORD BLOODHILT
2 to 1
Bet you didn’t see this one coming, did you? Just goes to show what an outside-the-box thinker your Warchief is. Hell, sometimes I’m so far outside the box that I don’t even know where the fuck the box is. What box, anyway? Fucking metaphors.
Anyhow, some of you might remember Bloodhilt from the southern Barrens, where he assumed command of our operations after former Warlord (and current zombie sous chef) Gar’dul managed to make a giant mess of things down there. Bloodhilt cleaned up Gar’dul’s fuck-ups, secured our position in the area, and made it possible for us to make our move on Theramore. Since then he’s made the trip with us to Pandaria, where he’s been commanding officer at Domination Point. Just a solid, stand-up officer who’s done nothing but impress from day one. Any way you cut it, you can get used to seeing his name cropping up, because he’s not going anywhere.
So, there’s your breakdown. On that note, I’m going to call it a day as far as answering the mail goes, but keep those letters coming and I’ll try to answer more of your questions as time allows. Since Spazzle’s form doohickey worked pretty well for this batch of e-mails, here it is again:
Memory lane
After the disaster up at Shado-Pan Monastery, Krimpatul and I brought the sha claw that we’d taken from Burzum back to the Sanctum of Two Moons. I’m hoping that if we examine it and conduct a few experiments, we can figure out a way to draw on that sha power without…you know…the accompanying crazy-going. While we get going on that, I’m sending Krimp over to Tian Monastery to round up the DPS trainees and bring them back to Domination Point. Hopefully they managed to pick up a few useful tricks from the monks there.
Oh, but hey, guess who was here to greet us at the Sanctum when we got back? Baine Bloodhoof, newly arrived in Pandaria. That’s, like, the best news I could get without there actually being any good news. Because I’ve been suffering from a severe deficiency in pain in my ass ever since Vol’jin took the big grave-flop…
* Much to his disgruntlement, Garrosh learned of Dezco’s tauren expedition during a planning session for the Dominance Offensive.
** Dezco and Anduin have (some of) this exchange at the Temple of the White Tiger.
[Old Orgrimmar background images provided by Rades from Orcish Army Knife, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Krasarang reunions
Construction is coming along quickly here at Domination Point. That’s what we’re calling the new outpost, by the way – pretty badass, right? Thought of it myself. Anyway, we’re making good progress getting the place built. Warlord Zaela sent some of her Dragonmaw construction crew with us, and as any of you who were there will remember, a couple years ago when the Dragonmaw joined the Horde, they got Dragonmaw Port rebuilt FAST. As opposed to, say, the goblin contractors who STILL haven’t quite finished the job in Orgrimmar. Which is really pretty ridiculous at this point. I mean, can you imagine how embarrassing it’s going to be if Orgrimmar comes under siege, and we STILL haven’t finished fixing the place from the LAST major problem?
So that’s coming along. While we work on getting the base built and securing the area, I’ve also been keeping Gurtash and the rest of the DPS busy gathering food. Turns out there’s an island close by that’s practically swarming with these huge cranes that have enough breast meat on them to feed half a regiment. They’re a little big for the kids, but it’s been good practice for them working as a team. Also, as part of the Pandaria landing team, I’d brought three of the Mag’har’s best blademasters from Nagrand: Ishi, Burzum, and Krimpatul. So I’ve been having the three of them take turns going out with the DPS when they go hunting, just to keep an eye on them. The kids seem to be hitting it off with Krimp especially. He’s got the gruff lovable mentor thing going for him. Kind of like me.
In other news, General Nazgrim and his team arrived here today. Which was a good thing – one, because Nazgrim is always good in a fight, but two, because that gave me a chance to ask some pointed questions based on Krog’s reports on a certain former captive of theirs.
Case in point: How exactly Nazgrim and his crew managed to turn this:
…into this:
The extent of Nazgrim’s response pretty much consisted of “Oh, so, um, you heard about that, huh?”
One other part of Nazgrim’s arrival, though – along with his regular crew like Kiryn and Shokia, he also brought one of those monkey people he’d recruited back in the Jade Forest, a hozen named Tak-Tak who’s going to be helping our flightmaster Kromthar. And here’s the thing. This was the first time I’d met a hozen…only it wasn’t. Some of you might remember – a few months ago, when time was going all wonky and I was flashing into that alternate reality, I met a monkey-like creature, name of Zhi-Zhi. Who’d been found washed ashore after the destruction of his home in the southern islands. It was the first time I’d ever seen a creature like him…but he seemed to know a thing or two about me.
And so THAT was the first time I ever met a hozen – only now, those events never happened. Except I still remember them. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL. Head hurts.
So after Nazgrim introduced me to Tak-Tak, I pulled Monkey Boy aside and tried picking his tiny little brain some. He said most of the mountain hozen up north were pretty hostile, same for the hozen on the islands to the east of here. According to him, the only hozen who’ve managed to shill at all – and from what I can tell, “chill” would be a VERY relative term – would be the forest hozen where he’d come from. Most of those, he says, have stayed in villages like Grookin Hill, but some individuals have gone off to live with the pandaren in one place or another. He rattled off a few places some of them had gone, and most of the names blurred together, but then one stuck out – a place in the Jade Forest called the Tian Monastery. That one rang a tiny little bell. When we get a little breathing room, I may need to pay them a visit over that way.
Anyhow, back to work. I’ll keep you posted on news as it happens, assuming my internet stays up.
