Tag Archives: draenei

Monday mailbag

mailbag29

Okay, people, it’s been WAY too long since I’ve dipped into the ol’ mailbag, and I have a HUGE backlog of letters, so let’s get right to it, shall we?

 

Hail Warchief!

The Feast of Winter Veil is approaching, and it made me think. What do you hope to get from Greatfather Winter this year? Do you have any special family traditions? I look forward to seeing Orgrimmar all decorated for the festivities.
Happy Holidays!

–Lorewalker Shara

PS you may want to avoid using tinsel to decorate around Mortimer, unless you like festive poop! Might be a good idea to keep Taktani away from it too, thinking about it.

Hey, Shara, thanks for writing. Hopefully Orgrimmar is looking all Winter Veily these days. I’ll be back for a check-in soon, but I’m probably only going to make it back to town JUST in time to catch the end of the festivities. As for my wish list… I remember addressing this point a couple years ago, and most of the stuff on that list still stands – especially Varian and Magatha’s heads on pikes – but there are a few more things I can think of that I might add to the list for this year.

  • An actual explanation that makes sense for what the hell was going on with Mokvar while I was away.
  • A wireless network here in Pandaria that’s actually reliable, so I can log onto Earth Online without it being a fucking comedy show.
  • An on-site goblin tech guy who can maintain that network without the whole thing going kablooey and spitting out two burnt pieces of toast every time there’s a breeze, because let me tell you, Grizzle Gearslip ain’t happening.

Come to think of it, so far all of these could pretty much be covered if I could get a bunch more Spazzles. Because really, as much as I clown on the guy, he actually knows what he’s doing and gets shit done, and unlike half these other jokers, I don’t have to worry about him running around behind my back doing spirits-know-what. So, other additions to the list:

  • A scribe that doesn’t have traitorous tendencies, a busted-up writing hand, or the disposition of a six-year-old on a sugar high from eating all the Hallow’s End candy EVER.
  • The secret to controlling the sha.
  • A First War commemorative chess set. This is the normal-sized, less creepy version of the chess set Medivh had over in Karazhan. It’s been rumored to be in the works for years, and I’ve finally started to see them showing up on ebAH. Yes, I play chess. Don’t act all surprised, for fuck’s sake.
  • Varian’s head on a pike. Did I mention this one?

As far as having family traditions for Winter Veil…not really. I mean, keep in mind, Winter Veil is a pretty recent thing for us Mag’har. We didn’t have Winter Veil back in Nagrand, so we only started picking it up at all after Thrall came out to Garadar a few years ago. Greatmother Geyah really has taken a liking to it, but that’s about it. Plus, not to get maudlin and shit, but it’s kind of hard to have family traditions when you don’t really have a family. I mean, I never knew my dad, and my mom died when I was young. I’m an only child. As far as I know. Assuming Grom wasn’t a bigger pimp than anybody’s given him credit for. Anyhow, point being, Greatmother is pretty much the only family I’ve got nowadays, and even SHE’s not a blood relation – she’s just the one that raised me after Lakkara died. So, yeah. AREN’T YOU HAPPY YOU BROUGHT THAT UP? BET YOU FEEL PROUD.

 

Greetings Warchief!

I am in desperate need of your assistance. I approached Regent Lord Lor’themar with my issue but he said that it was beyond his scope and directed me to contact you.

I recently inherited a house and it is in terrible need of redecoration. You have done a great deal of renovation recently and I was wondering if you could give me some tips to make my house look amazing. Attached is a picture of the house.

decorating

Thanks,

–Tegwin

Grats on the new house, Tegwin. Not so grats on the place looking like such a shithole. Because, yeah, that place needs some work. I mean, seriously…the wispy, billowy day-glow curtains? A bearskin rug with the bear head still attached? Strewn out there like you’re getting ready to do a photo shoot you already know you’re going to regret in five years? And… Is…is that a hookah? Just sitting there, right out in the open, in the living room? What are you, one semester removed from college and stuck with a slacker troll roommate who keeps swearing he’ll have his half of the rent this month, and this time he means it, mon, only you know perfectly well that’s not happening because felweed’s a hell of a drug?

So, okay, a few things. You have to lose the pastels, first of all. I know that probably goes against every last one of your blood elf sensibilities, but trust me on this. You want strong, commanding colors – the kind that will make people think “Holy fuck, some serious shit goes on in this place” when they walk in. Lots of reds and grays. Err on the side of darker. Go too dark with the red and you get a bloody crimson, which is still pretty badass. Go too light and you get pink. See where I’m going with this?

Mount some weapons on the walls. If you haven’t cleaned them lately and they’ve got some bloodstains, all the better. It adds to the color scheme I’m talking about, plus it conveys a message of “This person is not to be fucked with.” Spikes. You can never have too many spikes. Or skulls. Get some skulls in there. If you can carve up the body of one of your enemies and, say, make their skull into a chair for yourself, awesome. Or maybe turn their bones into an end table. A hat rack will do in a pinch. If you haven’t killed any notable enemies lately, but you’ve got an infamous foe that you really only know by reputation but somebody in your family killed, and you have THEIR remains somewhere handy, that’s just as good, because that fucker was brought down by your bloodline (AGAIN NOTICE THE BLOOD MOTIF) and you totally deserve to share credit for the accomplishment.

This is all for your living room, of course, and I know my tastes can be a little hardcore. I figured you might want to take it down a notch or two for your bedroom, so I went to Garona to get a woman’s opinion. Didn’t get very far, though. I told her I had a question about the bedroom and tried to ask her if she matches her rugs and curtains, or words to that effect, but she just got all pissy for some reason. So, not much help there. I seriously don’t know what’s up with her sometimes.

Speaking of which…

 

Dear Warchief,

I’m writing this letter to you in secret and I hope it gets to you and I’m not killed in the process. *looks around*

It’s about Garona Halforcen. Sir, she scares the everliving shi—uh—crap out of me. *looks around again*

I happened upon some history stuff about her and now I’m all confused. She was there when the first invasion from the Dark Portal, then she had a kid with an old man, and she is half-orc, half-dradne dranin demon *looks up spelling* DRAENAI. (She looks like an orc. Smells like one too. I don’t see it.)

Now I’m all confused and sitting in a dark tunnel with a lot of thinking time had me thinking about her again.

What I want to know…*looks around*

How old is she? She’s got to be like….ANCIENT. *hides paper, looks around*

She doesn’t make sense and I don’t want to ask her. She’s scary.

–Ruekie, Shaman In Training

PS: There’s a lot of talk lately with the orc kids about the Red Pox, and if there is something scarier than Garona it’s that. I heard you had it once. Did it hurt? Can you get it again? Can we get it? Can an outbreak happen again? Too many questions and we are getting freaked out. Like FREAKED out. Really.

Okay, first of all… Um, Ruekie, you realize we were JUST in those caves all alone and out of earshot of Garona, right? Not sure why you didn’t just ask your questions THEN, but whatever. Kids.

First, the Red Pox? No, seriously, you don’t want to get into the Red Pox, that was just a bad scene all around. I don’t know why you kids would be talking about it now, but really, just let that shit die. Nobody needs to be digging up THOSE memories for anybody.

Okay, now that that’s settled, on to your main point. Yeah, I’ll grant you the scary thing with Garona. Scariest bitch I know who hasn’t come back from the dead. Although it’s probably a sad statement about my life that the list of people I know who HAVE come back from dead is a lot longer than you would figure. Because – I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before – NOBODY STAYS FUCKING DEAD ANYMORE.

Anyway, here’s the deal with Garona. Yeah, she’s half orc, half draenei. Back in the day, Gul’dan bred an orc and a draenei to create a personal assassin – enter Garona. Yeah, she looks mostly orcish, but I guess these racial mixes are kind of a crap shoot as far as which race’s physical traits you get.

Anyhow, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure exactly when Gul’dan actually orchestrated her birth. I know it was definitely before the Dark Portal opened, and that was about 30 years ago, but before that, there was a window of about 20 years when Gul’dan was up to some Really Bad Shit, so the breeding experiment could have happened anywhere in there. Let’s shave off the first couple years to give Gul’dan time to come up with this idea and for Garona to be brought to term. That would mean that Garona would have to be anywhere from, say, 32 (She’s not. Seriously. I’m 35. There’s no damn way she’s younger than me.) to around 48 or so. Anywhere in between, your guess is as good as mine.

Hang on, though – this gets more complicated when you add the fact that Gul’dan had Garona aged magically so that she could get right to work, no childhood needed. Swell guy, huh? Anyway, the age of adulthood among orcs varies a little from clan to clan, usually somewhere from 13 to 15. (Yeah, I know, kid, can you believe it? Technically you’re an adult. Hard to imagine you’re a grown-up, huh? Well, let me clue you in on a little secret: That thought won’t stop seeming weird for another 20 years.) So that would mean, however old Garona is according to the calendar, she really has the body of a woman 13-some-odd years older. So now we’re looking at a physical age putting her somewhere between 45 and, like, 60-something. Which is kind of a big deal when you consider that 70 is about as old as you could reasonably hope to live as an orc, even if you do a perfect job taking care of yourself.

Oh, but hang on, we’re not done yet. It’s about to get more complicated. (Don’t look at me – I didn’t make this shit up.) Because, see, since Garona has that draenei half, her aging is even more fucked up. Draenei live for…like…forever. I mean seriously, I think the average draenei lifespan is something like “infinity minus twelve.” So you mix THOSE genes in with our good, wholesome “70 if you’re super lucky” orcish genes, and…well… You’ve got a woman who’s technically, like, 40, only with the body of a 53-year-old, only not really because 53 doesn’t mean anywhere near the same thing to the draenei part of her, so…um… Who the fuck knows?

She’s old, okay? Only she’s kind of not. Only she is. Whatever – you go figure it out. Meanwhile I’m going to go check around the room and make sure there aren’t any whooshing sounds coming from the corners.

 

The following is written in elegant, but slightly shaky, cursive script on pale peach-colored parchment paper

My dear little Roshy,

How are you doing? I have missed you. It’s beautiful here in Nagrand – we’re having the most glorious late-fall weather. I hope all is well in Orgrimmar.

Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend? Sounds serious too… She has been sending me letters telling me about how deeply in love you both are, and has included many pictures of you with little hearts and flowers drawn on them. She says you’re getting married in the spring? Why didn’t you mention it? You would think you’d keep your own family informed, dear. We’ll have to have a little chat the next time you visit. You are coming home for Winter Veil, are you not?

Also, you should take some pictures of the two of you together. And perhaps find a new photo studio. These look like they were printed on magazine paper instead of proper photo paper. I can’t properly frame them for display, especially not with the lipstick kisses smeared all over them.

All my love,

–Greatmother Geyah.

Hold on, hold on, what… how the… it… GODDAMMIT, SOMEBODY IS FALSIFYING RECORDS OF THEIR WARCHIEF, and…and… Oh fucking hell, now I’m going to have to go out there and explain Photoshop to her. It was bad enough when I had the bright idea to try to show her the internet. Nothing in my e-mail for two months but forwarded pictures of wyverns asking for cheeseburgers. And WHO is this woman who’s…ugh.  You know what? I don’t even think I want to know. Even though I can probably think of a couple likely suspects.

Now I’m just imagining somewhere in Orgrimmar there’s a dim, candle-lit room with walls covered by pictures of me, and…no, no, don’t even go any further with that, Garrosh. That way madless lies.

And now on top of everything, I have to squeeze in a trip to Nagrand before Winter Veil totally runs out on me, or I’m never going to hear the end of it. Ugh. Maybe I’ll bring Gurtash, and see if I can maybe distract her a little with the cute kid factor. Or Ruekie? I bet she’d like Ruekie. Plus Rook might want someplace to hide anyway, what with her probably having Garona out for her head as soon as this post goes live.

 

Very good to hear you have escaped the Saurok caves unharmed. The Horde would be in a very dire position if we were to lose our leader.

I do have one question. Have you ever thought of asking a mage if they could manage to conjure lemon squares? I have no complaints, but the same old sticky buns are a bit tiring after some time (not to mention they turn stale and hard as a rock after some time sitting in a bag). Perhaps you should collaborate with my wife? I am sure she would be very good to collaborate with, or maybe another mage closer to your location.

Regards,

–Shen-Wei Pureblossom

Thanks for writing, Shen-Wei. You know, I HAVE thought of this lemon squares angle before, but here’s the thing. First off, there was a point around this time last year that I really thought Gija down in the Cleft of Shadow was on to something, but the problem is, lemon squares don’t really lend themselves to conjuring, apparently. I mean, you can abracadabra up some pastries that are sorta, KINDA in the same ballpark as lemon squares, but you can tell they’re not the real thing. It’s like the drop-off from real leather to that fake shit that the damn DEHTA hippies try to pass off and think they’re fooling anybody. And once you’re used to eating the real thing, I mean, come on. It would be like going from having me as Warchief to, I don’t even know, a fucking TROLL or something.

Second of all, having spent my whole life eating those lemon squares, let me tell you, we don’t need mages recreating Greatmother’s recipe, because IT’S ALREADY MAGICAL. (See? See how I’m already working on smoothing things over with her? For real, I’m so fucking diplomatic you could just shit a brick.)

Also, even setting all that aside… Nothing personal, but I don’t take anybody up on any suggestions that include the phrase “perhaps you should collaborate with my wife” ever since the Incident That Shall Not Be Discussed over at Tharl Stonebleeder’s house. Now stop making me think about things that cannot be unthought. MOVING ON.

 

Hail Warchief.

Rumors are flying that there is a red pox outbreak. Is this anything like the scourge?

–Kelytas, Blood Elf Paladin, Borean Tundra

Wait, again with the Red Pox? No! We’re not going to talk about the Red Pox. Why the fuck is everybody so curious about the Red Pox all of a sudden?

 

I really enjoyed that Photo-Op you had with King Varian a while ago. I couldn’t help but notice that King Varian had a wonderful tousled-Anime-pigtail thing going on that was at the same time sexy but tough, and you…well, you just look cranky.

I checked in with the Couturier Barbershop in downtown Orgrimmar and was quite frankly shocked at the dismal array of hairstyles available. An up-swept Mohawk with a scarf? Are you kidding me?

I know you might have a couple of things on your plate right now but seriously, you really need to look into this before the entire Horde start looking like extras from Naxxramas.

Maybe you could contact King Varian, find out who does his hair and we could have a Stylist Exchange with one of our Barbers so they could learn some new hair techniques and bring back the Glory of the Horde.

I also noticed that our Tailors are in desperate need of new patterns. Malevolent-style silk pantaloons? Really? That is so last-season…

–A Concerned Fashionista Blood Elf

Lor’themar, is that you?

Yeah, let me get right on that. I’ll send a special diplomatic courier right over to Stormwind with a note that says, “Who does your hair??” Yeah, that would go over great, I’m sure.

Hmm. Actually, come to think of it, a message like that would probably seem SO weird to Varian that it might fuck with his head a little. Like, I can totally imagine him reading that and thinking, “Garrosh wouldn’t give a shit about my hair…WHAT IS HE UP TO?” And then he gets all paranoid and shit. And meanwhile I’m just sitting back and not doing anything, and the longer this goes on the more paranoid he gets – ESPECIALLY when it’s time for him to go to the barber, because, hey, THIS IS WHAT GARROSH WAS ASKING ABOUT. And maybe he gets so messed up and suspicious that he stops going to the barber altogether, and his hair grows and grows, and finally he’s just got this total mess of a rat’s nest on his head, until maybe he eventually can’t stand it anymore and shaves it all off and ends up bald. Same as me.

There you have it, ACFBE. Problem solved. Garrosh comes out ahead of the curve yet again. Boom.

 

Hail, Warchief!

I’m studying Orcish History at school and need to write an essay. I thought I’d write about the Red Pox and it’s impact, and I thought it would be neat if I could quote you on the subject, if you don’t mind.

I know it was a terrible illness, but there aren’t any first-hand records that I’ve been able to find. What was it like to live with the Red Pox? Do you remember much from those years? Did you notice any major differences between Orcish society as a whole and the way Orcs lived in Garadar? Pretty much anything you can remember would be great.

Thanks!

–Anonymous Scholar, Orgrimmar

Okay, so at least NOW I have some idea of why everybody’s got the Red Pox on the brain this week. So okay, fine, just this once I’ll talk about it, seeing as I’m probably one of the only Red Pox survivors a lot of these kids will have the chance to meet.

It sucked.

What, you wanted more? FINE.

I’m not going to waste time going over the symptoms, because there must already be records of that, and I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants to spend our lunch break reviewing my childhood vomiting habits. But yeah, I had it as a kid, and even setting aside the physical suffering of it all, I can’t stress enough how much of an effect it had on the culture of Garadar. I mean, you asked if there were any major differences between Garadar society and orcish society as a whole? Fuck, what WASN’T different? The Red Pox hung over our whole culture. It touched everything. We had whole generations who were born and died – prematurely, granted – under the bane of that thing. That was the worst part of it, really – the sense of resignation it left us with. It was like, for a lot of us, there was this sense that the Red Pox came for our grandparents, and then it came for our parents, and now it’s going to come for us.

Over the years, our shaman kept working to find a cure, and every so often there would be a glimmer of hope that maybe they had something. But then there would always be some disaster that would undo it. After a while that became part of the gloom and doom of it – the shaman would come up with a new possibility, and you never quite stopped hoping, but deep down you were thinking, “Okay, let’s see what fucks it up THIS time.” Even when they finally did find a cure, and the suffering could finally end, a lot of us couldn’t even quite believe it was really happening.

Adding to all this, by the way, was the fact that over in Telaar, the draenei had their own parallel illness going on for a while. It was called the lank distemper – or the “Lanks,” as a lot of folks ended up calling it. Basically an infection that caused severe dehydration and loss of appetite, so the afflicted would wither down to these scrawny shadows of their former selves. Sometimes the two diseases would flare up as if they had a contest going to see which one could kill more victims. Which made for some miserable times for everybody involved. Believe me, for anyone who was living through it, you do NOT want to get them started on the whole Lanks / Red Pox rivalry.

Is that enough? Are you happy yet? Or do I need to relive the time the conjured healing sphere rolled between Bullrok’s legs and into the lake, too?

 

Dear Garrosh;

Winter Veil is here! Time for a great orc cheer! Lok’tar!

I am so looking forward to making cookies and milk for Greatfather Winter this year with my new cooking skills I learned from Pilgrim’s Bounty holiday. I may even add some lemon squares to add some extra favor. I’m really hoping this year he’ll give me a ferocious armored bloodwing with exotic leather saddle for riding. That would be so cool! (Sigh, I’ll probably end up with another copper racer though.)

What are you hoping for Winter Veil this year, Mr. Garrosh sir?

Varian on a spire tree?

Blood and thunder!

–Ruekie, Shaman-Still-in-Training

PS: Greatfather Winter looks awful familiar, but I can’t quite figure it out. Kinda like Mr. Saurfang, but that would be impossible…I think. (Nothing is impossible with Mr. Saurfang.)

PPS: Winter Veil holiday is a great time for eating. Try no to eat too many lemon squares, though, sir. It doesn’t take much to make your muscles look like marshmallows.  D: 

Bye!

Wait, Ruekie AGAIN? When the hell is she writing all these letters? Fuck, maybe I should hire HER as a scribe, if this is how fast she can crank out pages. Anyway.

So also, before we get into anything else…hang on, you want a BLOODWING for Winter Veil? A frigging BAT? All of a sudden, a WYVERN isn’t good enough for little miss tornado-pants? You’ve seen Mortimer in action, up close and personal, and you’ve decided, “Nah, let’s give the universe a sporting chance – keep the wings, take away all the parts that really make the wyvern badass, and replace them with a giant blind rat”? Are you KIDDING me?

I already answered the part about what I want for Winter Veil a few letters up, so no need to get into that again. And I’m not going to dignify the lemon squares thing with a response. But I have to comment on that thing you said about Greatfather Winter. You know, one thing that people always say about Greatfather Winter is that there’s no way the guy could possibly fly all around the world and deliver presents to everyone in just one night. Well, I think you might have found the one gaping hole in that theory. So, next time you find yourself in an argument with some skeptic who doesn’t want to believe in Greatfather Winter, just unload this one on them:

“I’m telling you, there isn’t enough time for Greatfather Winter to do all that! It isn’t physically possible!”

“What if Greatfather Winter is really Saurfang?”

“Oh… Um… Well then.”

 

Yo Mon!

I hear you had de red pox, mon. On dat game Earth Online dey has a disees call chicken pox. Es dat de same? (What do chickens haf to do wit dat?)

Dey say in dat game, once you hav it, you cannot get et again. Yah, mon, you are now invisible to dat disees, like de lich king’s horse.  Dat is good news!

Cheers, mon!

–Bobbette, Out der somewhere

Okay.

So.

I am beginning to get the very distinct impression that I may be getting trolled.

 

Hey mon!

What’s dis I be hearin’ about da Red Pox breakin’ out again? It be all anybody be talkin’ ’bout dese days! If you get it, does dat mean ya turns red? I remember seein’ some red orcs back in Hellfire Peninsula, mon, was dey havin’ da Red Pox? Dey go from green ta red? Don’t get me wrong, mon, I don’t want nobody gettin’ sick, but if dere be anudda outbreak, look on da bright side – all dat red an’ green togetha be lookin’ nice an’ festive for Winter Veil!

–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery

I hate you. I really, truly hate you.

 

Excuse me, Warchief, I write to you from Dustwallow marsh, I came here to see if I could find test subjects for a new flamethrower, and found something much more interesting, there is this mysterious woman on the road to the ruined theramore (hah!) and she seems to be able to send me back in time to look at theramore and the swamp before theramore was destroyed, I went to sleep at mudsprocket and woke up in present day. She seems upset that I was killing humans as soon as I was there, and refuses to send me again.

–Ritaba, Mudsprocket 

Wait, wait, hang on. Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that there’s someone hanging around Dustwallow Marsh sending people back in time to Theramore before we blew it up? As in, making it possible to totally sidestep our whole victory and interact with the place like it was before? That… fucking hell, THAT DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT OF US BLOWING IT UP IF YOU CAN FUCKING DO THAT!

You know, this has the Bronze Dragonflight written all over it — or at least it WOULD, if it weren’t for the fact that this is PRECISELY THE SAME KIND OF SHIT they they’ve been recruiting people to PREVENT for years now, and by the way didn’t I just march through like 50 miles of steaming shit over their whole “integrity of the past” deal last year?! But hey, apparently it’s NO BIG DEAL when you’re talking about Theramore, right? SURE! WHY NOT? Hey, how about I zip on back to the past and start fucking with shit too, because I GUESS THAT’S ON THE MENU NOW, RIGHT?

Fucking dragons. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL!

UGH!

 

I have been reading the history of Pandaria, and discovered something no one has bothered to take note of, seven burdens of Shaohao, the story of how the last emperor of Pandaria defeated the six sha and locked them away in a poor fashion (He couldn’t have kept them from causing havok any time someone gets cranky?), and there are older writings indicating a beast with seven heads, perhaps there is a seventh sha never recorded, it could be the key to controlling them.

–Yinsun, Vale of Eternal Blossoms

Now see, THIS is an example of some research that might actually be useful. You might be on to something there, Yinsun. It DOES seem kind of fishy that we have this story about Shaohao and his seven burdens, and this seven-headed thingamabob, and then we only have six sha that we know about. It’s definitely worth considering whether we’ve got one more sha on the loose that nobody’s thought of. (Hell, I was even bouncing ideas about this around with some people on Twitter a little while ago.)

For anybody keeping score at home, we might as well start with the basics. Right now, we’ve got six sha accounted for: the Sha of Doubt, the Sha of Anger, the Sha of Despair, the Sha of Violence, the Sha of Hatred, and the Sha of Fear.

So, okay, let’s suppose there’s one more out there. Since the sha we know about all seem to be named for pretty major negative emotions or vices…hmm…let’s see, what do we have left for major negatives?

There could be a Sha of Greed, I suppose. Although…I mean, we have goblins with us, and I have to figure if there were a Sha of Greed, people like Grizzle Gearslip would be setting the fucker off left and right. The Sha of Jealousy, maybe? Makes sense on paper, but again, you’d figure we’d be having outbreaks all over the place, seeing as we’ve got a base full of people who’ve been watching me stroll around day after day. And you KNOW the peeps get jelly when they feast their eyes to the pure awesome that is yours truly, amirite?

So we’re kind of running out of major vices to pair up with the missing sha. What else is there? Free-associate, Garrosh… hmm… the Sha of Gluttony? The Sha of Sloth? The Sha of Anteater?

Hang on…I think that line of thought took a wrong turn on me somehow.

Maybe we’re going about this wrong. Time to think outside the box a little. For all we know, this last sha could be kind of a niche sha, something more specific and less…well…grandiose. Which might explain why this one might have been able to fly under the radar all this time. So, let’s see, what else could be out there as the sneakier, subtler bane of our existence…

  • The Sha of Social Awkwardness
  • The Sha of Small Talk
  • The Sha of Poor Table Manners
  • The Sha of Bad Penmanship
  • The Sha of Bad Spelling
  • The Sha of Typos (possibly related to above)
  • The Sha of Not Picking Up After Your Wyvern
  • The Sha of Repetition
  • The Sha of Redundancy
  • The Sha of Telegraphing Bad Jokes
  • The Sha of Walking Really Slowly in Front of People at the Mall
  • The Sha of Paper Towels with Inexplicably Strong Perforation So You Try to Snap Off One Square and End Up Yanking Out Half the Roll
  • The Sha of Telling the Same Story Over and Over and Over Again Even Though Yes I Already Know How You Met Eitrigg Okay Tirion

Okay, you know what? This is going nowhere fast.

Wait, wait, hang on a second… I could swear I HAVE seen another sha somewhere.

shaofhappiness

HOLY FUCKING HELL THAT’S IT! THE SHA OF HAPPINESS! Come to think of it, I even remember seeing this fucker on Twitter! Fuckin’ A, I KNEW all those annoyingly happy assholes like Mylune were up to no good! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.

 

Okay, that’s going to do it for this time, but keep those letters coming. You guys really stepped up to the plate with this batch of letters, so you know what that means — THE BAR HAS BEEN RAISED. So keep it going, and I’ll try to be back with more wise words soon. Handy form included:

 

Monday mailbag

mail28

So before I head out to check on the Temple of the Red Crane, I figured I’d make a quick mailbag check and dip into the latest batch of letters.

 

Dear Warchief,

Hello sir. I’m one of Overlord Runthak’s trainees and I’ve been reading your blog for a long time. I’ve noticed that between Garona and Warlord Zaela, and even mailbag writers like Wega, you really seem to have a following among the ladies. My question is, how do you do it? I haven’t had much luck with the girls in my training group, and I bet it would help a lot if I knew your secret.

Thank you,

–Dol’akar

Hoo boy. This one again. See, Dol’akar, I wish it was that simple, but seriously, this is kind of like going up to Mylune and saying, “Teach me to be batshit crazy like you.”

Thing is, something like 85% of my game comes down to the fact that I look like a canister of distilled sexy, kick ass on two planets, and – let’s face it – lay the pipe like an army of plumbers in the Wetlands. And all that’s just natural. Now, since you’re a trainee, I’d like to tell you that part of your problem is that you’re still just a teenager, and adolescent awkwardness and blah blah blah, and things will get better as you get older, but honestly? I was doing just fine for myself when I was a teenager in Nagrand (I tell you, those draenei girls were crazy back in the day), so, you know…again, natural.

Still, if you think it’ll help you at all, I can let you in on the other 30% of my game. To start with, you want to buckle down in your combat training. This should help you in a number of ways. First off, it’ll keep you in good shape, which at least gives you an outside chance of offsetting a little sliver of the disadvantage of having no shot at being as dead sexy as me. Second, it’ll put you in a better position to beat the living crap out of any competition you might run into from among the other trainees. This will show the girls that you’re sensitive to their needs. Those needs being, of course, that they need to stop wasting their time on those other assholes and focus on you, and hey, what the fuck do you even think YOU’RE doing here, chump? But yeah, girls seem to like that sensitivity crap – don’t ask me why – so that should win you some points. And third, the better you do in battle, the faster you’ll be able to advance through the ranks.

Which brings us right to our next point: power is sexy. Let me tell you, after Nazgrim made the jump from Sergeant all the way up to Legionnaire and then General, he had women all over him. You know, until he crashed two ships and killed them all. But that’s a whole other thing. (This reminds me of another suggestion: Work on your piloting skills. Because why tempt fate?) Anyway, point being, moving up in the world can only help your chances. Just keep in mind that you’re looking at a hard cap of High Overlord, seeing as the only thing above that is Warchief, and we all know I’m not going anywhere for a long time.

Hope this helps.

 

Hey hey, Garry! Wazzup, my man?

I just built myself a chopper and it’s hella rad. Damn, but I look kickass ridin’ that hog! Got the ladies all over me. But then I thought I need some wicked cool tats to seal the deal, ya know what I mean? So I was flippin’ through some mags for ideas and whoa! Double page spread of Mr. Warchief-crush-your-head himself! And I’m like, “Dayum, that’s some fine art right there.” High five, buddy.

So… where’d you get your ink done? I need a parlor that can capture my style, yo.

–Fizzpop “The Fizz” Clutchgear

Sup, Fizz. First of all, before we go any further – I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again:

notgarry2

Okay, now that that’s out of the way.

Glad to see that somebody appreciates the tattoos. Oh, wait, lots of somebodies already do, of the female persuasion (see previous letter). But still, thanks anyway.

I had most of my tattoos done in that little window of relatively-not-fucked-up time just after becoming Warchief and just before the Cataclysm. They’re ceremonial markings from the Warsong clan, done by a Mag’har tattoo artist from Nagrand. I actually had him recommended to me by blademaster Burzum. He was always really helpful. You know, before he went all snarly-sha-crazy. But I digress.

I could put you in touch with the guy if you want to look him up. If you ever find yourself in Garadar, look for Vanteg. I hear he’s been in pretty high demand since word got out that he’d done the Warchief’s ink, so you might have to get on a waiting list. Feel free to drop my name, though. He might skip you ahead in line. Either that, or he’ll figure you’re another one of the people who show up and lie about knowing me, in which case, you know, sucks for you. Them’s the breaks.

 

Hail, Warchief!

Well, of course the Star-Tribune is biased. (Besides, I’m pretty sure that if you trace it through far enough, the Regent-Lord owns it.) That’s not the point. The official line has always been that the Regent-Lord is doing a fine, bang-up job. And, at least out loud and in public, everyone with an ounce of sense agrees. He’s not above having his guys straight-up mind-control people talking out of turn in public. For real-talk, you have to go to the shadowy dives off of Murder Row … and what’s new is that it’s getting harder to find dissent even there. It may be begrudged respect, but growing respect, nonetheless. People want to believe that the old Lor’themar is coming back, the man who used to be the Ranger-General’s second-in-command, the one who used to be … well, not completely useless. And perception can take on a reality all its own.

Then again, this may just mean that the magisters have started slumming, and everyone’s getting a helping of re-programming. It’d still have the same effect, and I’m not qualified to tell the difference.

–A Concerned Citizen

Hey, ACC. Good to hear from you as always.

So hang on, let me make sure I have this straight. You’re saying that Ponytail controls the media and information outlets in Silvermoon, is forcibly silencing dissent, and is subtly manipulating the population of his capital city into a hero-worshipping, glory-seeking, cult-of-personality bunch of jingoistic wahoos?

Hoo boy. That’s not good news for anybody any way you cut it.

 

Warchief Garrosh Hellscream,

Sir,

I was out picking herbs today to mill for me inscription training. It’s Father’s Day and I was picking Gromsblood, which got me to wondering … How do ye feel about having an herb that only grows in places tainted by fel magics be named after yer dad? And if it bothers ye, have ye ever thought of having it changed?

Sincerely,

–Kriann, Jr. Member, Explorers’ League

Hey, good to hear from you, Kriann. On the other hand, kind of sounds like you might be a dwarf, in which case, fuck you, Kriann. Anyway, thanks for writing.

So about the gromsblood. I see where you’re going with the fel-tainted thing, but that’s never really bothered me. For one thing, I usually just look at it as a name given to honor the awesomeness of my dad. It’s actually pretty fitting, in a way. Wherever there’s land infested with fel magic, wherever there are demons lurking about, there’s a little reminder of Grom, ready to give them the ol’ Mannoroth special. I usually don’t read much more into it than that.

Also, the fact of the matter is, it’s not at all uncommon to have an herb named after a prominent figure. There are tons of them. You probably know about Khadgar’s whisker, for instance, and then there was Arthas’ tears until that stupid ballot initiative passed and renamed them to sorrowmoss, because spirits forbid we should offend the spirit of Arthas and make him cry even more. But there are actually lots of other, more obscure ones that a lot of people haven’t heard about. For instance:

Creeping Sylvanas – Sometimes called the Syl-vine-us, although that’s actually inaccurate since it’s not technically a vine. This is a strange type of plant that’s created by herbicides. You spray your garden and kill the weeds…and then a few days later, those hey-weren’t-those-dead weeds grow back in the form of creeping Sylvanas. And start killing loads of other plants and turning THEM into creeping Sylvanas. And then after a while they seem to settle down and mostly get along with most of the regular vegetables in your garden, only you can’t quite shake the sinking feeling that maybe they’re up to something that you can’t put your finger on.

Broxigar Thornbush – The only plant ever known to harm Sargeras. Which is a weird distinction to keep track of, but I guess academics need something to do. Anyway, when Sargeras first arrived on Azeroth, he started ranting on and on about “dark titan” this and “destruction is nigh” that – you know, like you do when you’re a cartoonish bad guy – and then in the middle of this, he pricked himself on one of these thornbushes, and started howling pathetically about “Ouch my finger owies ow OWW!” Which kind of took the edge off the whole “fiery apocalypse” thing. Kind of gives you an idea of why the dude lost, though.

Lor’themar Pansy – Contrary to what you’re probably thinking, this isn’t a reference to the actual guy, but to a plant. As a general rule, if you see some frilly-looking flowers around somewhere, and you kind of recognize them, but you’re not sure what they’re called, so you’re all, “You know, those flowers. From the place. The red ones”? Those are probably Lor’themar pansies.

Cairne Blossom – This plant used to grow all over the place in Mulgore until Magatha tricked me into pruning it all. Oops.

Fordragon Lily – These tall, striking bulb plants were named for Bolvar Fordragon, since they used to grow all around his old outpost in the Dragonblight. For some reason, right at the end of the Northrend campaign, they all withered and mutated into a strain of lichbloom. I’ve never been able to figure that one out. I tried asking Tirion about it once, and he just got all quiet. Which is noteworthy because it was the only time in history that the words “Tirion” and “quiet” have ever appeared together in a sentence that didn’t also include the words “needs to be.”

Thrallvine – This stuff grows on the side of your house and pretty much just sits there being innocuous and not doing anything, other than making random passers-by yammer on about how awesome it is. Then out of the blue it goes on a crazy growth spurt so everywhere you look, there it is, until you’re just goddamn sick of looking at it all the time. I bet you could replace that shit with a way better plant that would make your house stronger and be nicer on the eyes to boot, but you’ll probably just wind up with a bunch of assholes bitching about it. Also your landlord seems to have an inexplicable, unhealthy attachment to the stuff so you know they’d never let you get rid of it.

 

That’s it for this time around. As always, keep those letters coming, and I’ll try to brighten your empty lives with my inspiring answers again soon.

 

Monday mailbag

mail18

Before I really get rolling with my investigations in Kun-Lai summit, I figured I’d make a pit stop and check on the mail. Here’s what we have this time around…

 

Dear Warchief,

I haven’t had the chance to get out to Pandaria yet, but I look forward to joining the war effort soon. In the meantime, I’m curious, what’s your take on all that Pandaren beer I’ve been hearing so much about?

–Kalaban, Undercity

Thanks for writing, Kalaban. Gotta say, I’ve been dipping into the local panda brews quite a bit since I’ve been out here (Can you blame me? Have you SEEN the cast of characters I’ve got surrounding me?), and they’re not bad at all. It’s really pretty hard for me to give much more of a review than that, because if there’s one thing panda beers have going for them, it’s VARIETY. They’ve got these lighter, thinner ones that personally I think are almost like drinking water (I’m gonna bet those are pretty popular with the blood elves), all the way up to some serious, heavy-duty, knock-you-on-your-ass brews. Plus everything in between, including all kinds of flavor varieties. I guess that’s what happens when half the population seems to work in the brewing industry in one way or another.

And really, quality-wise you can’t complain about any of it. The ones that are so-so are still totally drinkable. And the ones that are GOOD? Man. They make half the stuff you get during Brewfest seem like you’re drinking carbonated kodo piss. Speaking of which, I’m almost afraid to imagine what’s going to happen when the pandas get their first look at Brewfest next year, because holy shit.

That’s the other thing you notice about the pandas, I’ve got to say. Dipping into the beer is so much a part of their culture that you don’t even realize that almost the entire population has a constant, low-level buzz going. And the funny thing is, yeah, sure, they enjoy drinking and all, but they manage to stay really chill about it, like you never see any angry drunks anywhere (take notes, Tirion). But it’s also like a cultural expectation that they stay vaguely buzzed even beyond the sheer fun of knocking a few back. Which, by the way, makes me worry about General Nazgrim going native on us – you may have noticed, dude has this nasty habit of boarding ships and then winding up smashing them to bits, and I’m thinking that trend won’t be helped if he starts getting into the habit of boozing it up to boot. Not to mention, he’s a general and needs to stay combat-ready. Can’t have him getting a beer belly on us.

 

Hail Mighty Warchief!

Someone is going around posting this…uhhh….manipulated image of you. It’s a travesty and demoralizing to the horde! This cannot keep going! I find too many who are laughing at this.

garroshfatbelly

The fool cryptically added FYG and sign it J. I am not sure what that means, but it can’t be nice. Fattening Your Gut? Fondly Yours Garona? (bitch!) F..ff..ffffffuucc…. ooooooh……OH. OOOOHHH! O.O

SIR, THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! I WILL HUNT DOWN THIS…THIS…LESS THAN A PEON WORTHLESS SCUM, SLIT HIS THROAT, AND MAKE A NECKLACE FROM HIS TEETH AS A GIFT TO YOU!

I WILL NOT STAND HAVING SOMEONE MAKE YOU LOOK FATTER THAN JI!

I WILL HUNT DOWN AND KILL EVERY PERSON WHO’S NAME STARTS WITH THE LETTER J STARTING WITH THAT FREAKING BLONDIE BOY JOHNNY AWESOME!

(Like the caps? Me too.)

After all the J’s are dead, their heads hanging of the gates of Ogrimmar,  and the streets flowing with their blood…can we like, go out? I think you’re so cute…even if you have a little bit of a belly. (You may want to take it easy on the pancakes and lemon squares, sir.)

Forever in my Heart,

–Tuekie, Rogue Trainee, Ogrimmar

PS: I’m older than I look. Ok?

Okay, so first of all, just so everybody knows, Tuekie here is one of the Dead Peons Society trainees that I’ve been working with the last few months, part of that whole group Gurtash is in. She’s actually the twin sister of Ruekie, a shaman trainee I think I’ve mentioned once before.

And yes, I know. Somebody had twins and named them Ruekie and Tuekie. And yes, I agree. Death is too good for some parents. (Granted, “Ruekie” and “Tuekie” are nicknames, and their original, given names – Rue’kara and Tue’kara – are a little better, but still, come on. You don’t give your twins names that fucking rhyme.)

Anywhow. Tuekie here was part of the original group with her sister, but we ended up having her stay back in Orgrimmar rather than join us for the trip to Pandaria, in no small part because…yeah. As you might have noticed…just a little tiny bit TOO fond of her mentor. So between the fact that in Pandaria I wouldn’t have the ability to send her back to her parents at the end of the day, and the fact that, as a rogue, who KNOWS what she could get up to sneaking around all invisible and shit…yeah, better to let her stay with mom and dad. FYI, there were a couple other trainees who ended up needing to stay back in Orgrimmar for one reason or another, so they’re still continuing their training back there while the other eight trainees are down here with me.

Oh and also, Teukie? “I’m older than I look”? Um, I KNOW how old you are. You’re freaking fourteen. I’m thirty-four, and you’re fourteen, and I haven’t hooked up with a teenager since I WAS a teenager, and the less said about that draenei girl in Nagrand the better, seeing as I don’t want Greatmother coming down here and boxing my ears. So will you give it a rest already because it isn’t going to happen, okay?

Seriously, do other teachers have to deal with this shit? Don’t stand so close to me.

Now as for the OTHER important part of this letter…

OMG WTF IS THAT SHIT?!?!

Okay…so…this is where I am TOTALLY on board with Teukie, because whoever is behind THAT thing…I…it…just…HOLY FUCKING HELL. “F.Y.G.” OMG

Okay. Okay…calming down…deep breaths…let’s look at this thing rationally.

So…we know we’re looking for someone whose name starts with a J. (By the way, I’m not sure if Johnny Awesome is really going to be our prime suspect here, but you know what? Go kill him anyway. Fucker.)

Also, based on…the product…it’s probably a safe bet that this is someone who really, really doesn’t like yours truly. So, right there, that narrows the field down A LOT, right?

Add to that the fact that that image is clearly using an Earth Online character model. So we’re dealing with someone who probably plays EO, or at least is familiar enough with the game that they would think to dip into it for the image.

So…J’s…  Ji Firepaw couldn’t be it – yeah, he plays EO a little, but he’s pretty clueless in-game and I don’t see him being able to do that kind of image manipulation. Jorn Skyseer at Domination Point is out – he isn’t a gamer at all, and I’ve always gotten along pretty well with him. Jorin Deadeye? Hmm…I don’t THINK he plays EO, but let’s maybe not cross him off the list just yet.

There have to be other options, though. Think, Garrosh, think…someone who doesn’t like you, whose name starts with J…plays Earth Online…

Oh.

OH.

THAT FUCKING BITCH?!?!!

Ohhhhh man is she in for it. Let’s see how funny she thinks it is when I march down there and blow up her whole damn—OH WAIT, I TOTALLY ALREADY DID. So you know what? If this is her idea of revenge, if the worst thing she can come up with to get back at the Horde is to doctor up some sad little picture to send around the internet, hey, knock yourself out, Jaina. Have fun. Pretty fucking sad, when you think of it. Also pretty ironic that she’s making pictures of ME to put on the internet – seriously, lady, you want to go over some of the image searches for YOU that come up in my Google hits on a daily basis?

 

Dear Warchief Garrosh,

I just recently found your blog and just caught up on all of your postings. It’s been nice to see the more orcish side of such a larger than life leader. Plus, your lemon squares are truly a gift from the Light! Even though I am Forsaken, those lemon squares manage to bring life back to my taste buds.

I wanted to share a story I thought you might enjoy. I was searching for news on the events happening in Pandaria, and I came across a picture of Lor’themar Theron. I showed my husband (a blood elf paladin) the picture, and his response was “Who is the guy with the eyepatch?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Don’t tell Lor’themar, I’d hate for him to get angry at me. I’d rather not have him glaring at me when I join up with the Reliquary in Pandaria.

Fare well in Pandaria, Warchief.

–Beshara Dawnblaze, Forsaken priestess of the Shadow and Light

Thanks for writing, Beshara. I’m not gonna lie. I LOL’ed reading that. I’m still kinda sitting here chortling, because…hehe…

“Who’s the guy with the eyepatch?”

“What, you mean Eyepatch?”

“That can’t really be his name, can it? People must call him something else, right?”

“Ponytail, maybe?”

“That’s not really a name, either.”

“Hair-Care? Cyclops?”

“I don’t think he would really answer to those, would he?”

“Well then I’m out.”

So, also, see? SEE? NOBODY knows the dude’s name, not even his own people. It’s not just me, and it’s not just the Earth Online gang. Other that Sylvanas, who seems to be able to remember him for some reason. Maybe it’s an undead thing. As far as those of us among the living go, though, I swear it’s like the guy has some crazy psychic field around him that makes everyone forget him as soon as they look away.

Anyway, I’ll look forward to meeting you when you get down here, Beshara. Tell you when, when you see me in person, if you want to crack me up right out of the gate? Just walk up and say “Eyepatch.”

 

Hey mon,

I got a surprise for ya, mon! Dat letter ya got from Tandeleina in ya last mailbag? She was right, mon! I am Vol’jin! She figured it out, mon! I’m up an’ kickin’ an’ still on da loose! Ya bettah watch ya back, mon, ’cause I be comin’ for ya!

–Bob, Shado-Pan Mon Echo Isles

Okay, seriously, dude, do you think I haven’t figured out your MO yet? Come on. This jackass keeps writing to me, and more often than not he just comes up with some crazy ridiculous bullshit to yank my chain and jerk me around. And you know what? I’m man enough to admit a lot of the time he’s gotten me to bite. He’ll write some load of crap, and I’ll take the bait, and rant at him about it for a while, and meanwhile I’m sure he’s kicking back in troll-land laughing his ass off because trolls think positively EVERYTHING is fucking hilarious because felweed.

Well guess what. You’re not getting me this time, Bobbo. Yeah, you’re Vol’jin. Sure you are. Absolutely. You somehow miraculously survived the attack in the saurok cave, and you’ve gone off in hiding to heal up, and meanwhile you’ve been putting this WHOLE GIANT CONSPIRACY together behind my back, I’m sure, and recruiting people to help you, and biding your time before The Glorious Revolution where you overthrow me or some shit.

Yeah, sure. That’s real fucking likely.

Probably.

Where did I put that note from AlternateTimeline!Faranell again…?

 

Back to the Faire

sayge

The Darkmoon Faire is back this week…actually, they’re not “back” anywhere, they’re the same damn place they always are nowadays, on that freaky-ass island of theirs. So I don’t know why we make a big deal over it “coming back,” considering they could just as well leave the damn portals up all the time so people can just go there whenever. But I guess Silas Darkmoon must have some reason, maybe it’s a union thing, who knows.

Anyway, since things are a little quiet these days, I figured I might as well give myself a little R&R and swing by the Faire again. I went and got Gurtash from the orphanage and brought him with me, since he seemed to like the place the first time, and off we went.

Of course, within ten minutes of us arriving there, Gurtash had spotted some other kids and was off to the races. That left me to wander around on my own for a while. I was hoping that we’d be coming up on the time for the Deathmatch fight, but no such luck, it was still a ways off. So I made my way over to that gnoll fortune teller, Sayge, to see if I could get anything useful out of him. Last time I was here, I got some cryptic-ass fortune that didn’t make much sense even in a fortune-cookie kind of way, so I figured I’d take another shot and see what he’d have to say if I played along for another one of his moral quiz show things.

So okay, here we go with the questions he asked me. Feel free to play along at home:

You have been tasked by your liege to guard his fields of corn from poachers and thieves. One night on patrol, you stumble across a haggard man in thread-bare clothing stealing corn from the field. You quickly confront him, and he immediately begs for his life. He claims he is stealing the corn to feed his family since the lord of the land – your liege – demands too much in taxes. Your liege is indeed known for his harsh taxes throughout the land.

Make your choice.

  1. I slay the man on the spot as my liege would expect me to do, as he is nothing more than a thief and a liar.
  2. I turn over the man to my liege for punishment, as he had broken the law of the land and it is my sworn duty to enforce it.
  3. I confiscate the corn he has stolen, warn him that stealing is a path towards doom and destruction, but I let him go to return to his family.
  4. I allow the man to take enough corn to feed his family for a couple of days, encouraging him to leave the land.

Now personally, I’ve got no reservations about laying the smackdown on this guy, but I kinda got the feeling that this was one of those questions where they want you to show you’re kind and merciful and that kind of bullshit. So I figured, what the hell, let’s go with option #4. It’s really kind of the lamest option there, but whatever, Sayge is never going to know the difference, right?

Moving on:

You alone have defeated a terrible beast that has been ravaging the countryside, taking its ear as a trophy. You later learn that your liege had offered a reward for the beast’s death, and that a kind but destitute knight who you know is trying to support a family claims the beast’s kill as his own. You have no real need for the money yourself, but you know that the destitute knight is lying for his own personal gain.

Make your choice.

  1. I would show my liege the beast’s ear and claim the beast’s death as my own, taking the reward for my own use. It is wrong to claim a deed as your own that someone else in fact did.
  2. I would show my liege the beast’s ear and claim the beast’s death as my own – after all, I did slay it. I would then offer some of the reward to the destitute knight to help his family.
  3. I would remain silent about the kill and allow the knight to claim the reward to aid his family.

Okay, so being warm and fuzzy is all well and good, but no way am I going to let somebody else take credit for my kill. Luckily, this one gives you an option where you get to split the difference – take the credit you deserve, but also be charitable to the poor destitute fucker. Which is actually fine by me – in this situation, I’d be in it for the honor, not the money, and if this guy could use some help, fine. So, option #2 it is. Glory for me, some pocket change for him, everybody’s happy.

Once I’d answered the questions, Sayge gave me a written fortune: “What happened to the fortune that was supposed to be written here? Yep. Old Gods.” Ha ha, very funny, Sayge. Nice job having that ready to go, though. Didn’t know he read the blog.

Anyway, while I was rolling my eyes at the fortune, he cast some kind of spell on me. I’d heard he usually gives some kind of buff to people when they answer his questions, but I’m not sure exactly what it was he put on me. In fact, I’m kind of fuzzy about what happened for the next hour or so. I mean, I didn’t black out or anything – I remember walking around the faire some more, and running into Spazzle, who was going around with his cousin, and hanging out with them for a while, and then eventually Gurtash coming back. But I’m kind of hazy on the details, like when I try to think of what I talked about with Spazzle for instance, it just gets kind of foggy. Not sure what to make of that. Oh well.

Anyhow, like I said, Gurtash caught up with me after a while. Turns out that when he ran off, he was hanging out with a bunch of girls who were going around the fairgrounds together. Which, you know, atta boy. Kid IS thirteen, after all. As it happens, it looks like the kid’s taken a shine to this one draenei girl. Which…okay, maybe not the ideal choice, but I get it. I’d be lying if I said I never had a peek over to that side of the fence when I was his age. Plus, at least he’s not going for a human. Because that would just be gross.

A draenei, though…well, first of all, he’s still just a kid, so whatever. It’s not like anything’s going to come of it in the long run. And even if it did, and this was the start of some lifelong thing or whatever, it’s not like races have never mixed before. Hell, Garona is half orc and half draenei.

Um…wait a minute.

Okay, yeah, I’ve got to nip this thing in the bud. No good can come of this shit.

On our way back to Orgrimmar. I may or may not be assigning a guard to the kid. We’ll see.

 

Well who woulda thought…

lorthemar2

Remember that guy Lor’themar from my Earth Online guild? Some friend of Sylvanas. I’m guessing she probably knew him back in Silvermoon back before, you know, the whole corpsey-ghosty-undeathy thing. Which I’ll grant has to do a number on your social circle, especially if your particular brand of undeath winds up being the brain-eating zombie variety. Come to think of it, I don’t know if I’ve ever really given Sylvanas props for keeping the whole brain-eating thing to a minimum among her people. Because spirits know we’ve got enough mental defectives around here without me having underlings going LITERALLY brainless to boot.

Anyway. The point is, turns out that Lor’themar guy has actually turned out useful for something. I guess Sylvanas was talking with him about the whole Southshore situation, and what we learned from Tirion the other day about the Ashbringer and the crystal and whatnot. As it happens, he’s got a contact up there in Silvermoon that he thinks might be useful to us – Lady Liadrin, the leader of the Silvermoon Blood Knights. Which I’ve got to admit, at first I thought was the name of a sports team, and I was kind of hoping for a minute it was beach volleyball, because for serious could you imagine what the blood elf team…you know what, never mind. I get enough hate mail as it is. So anyhow, “Blood Knights” is the fancy shmancy name the blood elves have for their paladins, and Liadrin happens to be the matriarch of the whole order.

I know, right? Who would have guessed Lor’themar would be in good with someone important up there?

I guess Sylvanas was explaining what we know to Lor’themar, and Lor’themar thought this rang a few bells and explained it to Liadrin, and somehow by the end of this rumor chain Liadrin had the idea that the dark crystal turned light crystal that Tirion was talking about might have some connection to the Naaru. You know…those big crystally talking chandelier things that the draenei seem to think are a big deal. Her idea is that what Tirion was describing from his meeting in old Southshore sounded an awful lot like the end of a Naaru’s life cycle, or some mojo Velen did with some dead Naaru’s essence at the Sunwell. Which I’m surprised Velen had the time to do, by the way, since I would have figured by that point he would have been busy looking for another unsuspecting world to lead the frigging Burning Legion to and then leave to fend for itself. Not that I’m holding any grudges or anything.

Anyway, she seems pretty keen on following up on this, so I’m going to try to bring her into the circle. At the moment, though, I’m not sure where we’re going to go from here, since our only lead at this point consists of a meeting from ten years ago between a bunch of people who are all dead now, except for one of them, who is Tirion. I’m honestly not sure which of those two groupings came out on the better end of the situation. Either way, it seems like we’re at a dead end unless we can think of something.

So I think this is my cue to go close myself away and start thinking deep thoughts, because honestly…look around at the rest of these people. You really want to roll the dice on any of THEM coming up with something clever?

 

Orc Lemon Squares

cake

Today’s entry for Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge! This one is inspired by a repeated suggestion from the last few days, involving my Greatmother’s famous (previously secret) recipe, and the meddling tree who publicized it and forced me to institute whole new culinary policies a while back. Remember to make suggestions for next time in your comments!

 

Edenvale.

Edenvale –
She’s a tree.

Edenvale –
Don’t you see?
Edenvale’s a tree,
I see.

Edenvale,
She had a scare –
She saw Garrosh
Over there.

“Oh no!  Garrosh!”
Cried the tree.
“Please don’t kill me!
Let me be!

I’m your friend!
Yes!  I swear!
Please don’t kill me,
Garrosh-There!”

“Don’t you fret
Your sappy head!
I won’t kill you,”
Garrosh said.

“No?  You won’t?”
“Oh no,” he said.
“Or you already
Would be dead!”

“Oh,” she said,
The silly tree.
“Then, what do you want
With me?”

He came closer,
Garrosh-There.
And he said,
“I’m here to share.”

“Here to share,
Garrosh-There?”
“Here to share,”
Said Garrosh-There.

“Are you okay?”
Asked the tree.
“That doesn’t sound like you,”
Said she.

“Yeah, I know.
It kind of sucks.
But I figure,
What the fuck.

Greatmother says
I should share –
I should share
Her lemon squares.

So since Greatmother
Says to share,
I will try,”
Said Garrosh-There.

“So,” he said,
And gave a glare,
“Would you like
Some lemon squares?”

Edenvale looked nervous,
True.
She didn’t know
Quite what to do.

“Oh,” she said,
And held her nose.
“I really don’t want
To impose.”

“No, it’s fine,
They must be eaten.
Here, try one.
Or you’ll get beaten.”

“No, that’s okay,
None for me.”
“What’s the problem,
Stupid tree?”

“Well,” she said
To Garrosh-There.
“Well,” she said,
And looked quite scared.

“I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”

“Would you like them
Here or there?”

“I would not like them
Here or there.
I would not like them
Anywhere.
I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”

“Would you like them
In your home?
Would you like them
With a gnome?”

“I would not like them
In my home.
I would not like them
With a gnome.
I do not like them
Here or there.
I do not like them
Anywhere.
I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”

“Would you eat them
On a boat?
With a Naaru
Or space-goat?”

“I would not eat them
On a boat.
I’d simply give them
To the goat.
I do not want them
In my home.
I will not try them
With a gnome.
I do not want them
Here or there.
I do not want them
Anywhere.
I just don’t like
Orc lemon squares.
I just don’t like them,
Garrosh-There!”

“Would you, could you,
Might, may, will,
Try them up
In Teldrassil?”

“I would not, could not eat them there!
In Teldrassil, or anywhere!
I do not want them on a boat.
I will not share with some space-goat.
I do not want them in my home.
I do not want them with a gnome.
I do not want them here or there,
I do not want them anywhere!
I do not like orc lemon squares!
I do not like them, Garrosh-There!”

“How about
A doggy bag?
Served by Utvoch
And Dontrag?”

“Enough already!”
Cried the tree.
“Garrosh-There,
You let me be!”

“Would you try them
On the moon?
With Cenarius
And Mylune?”

“No, I would not
On the moon!
Even if they brought
Elune!”

“Would you try them,
Just once, ever,
Up amid
The Twisted Nether?”

“No! No! Not in the Nether!
I do not want to try them, ever!
Not in a bag! Not on the moon!
Not with Dontrag or with Mylune!
Not on a boat! Not in my home!
Not with a goat! Not with a gnome!
I will not try them here or there!
I do not want them ANYWHERE!
I do not like orc lemon squares!
I just don’t like them, Garrosh-There!”

“You don’t like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them
And you may.
Try them and you may,
I say.”

“Garrosh, dammit!
Fine, at last.
I’ll try them –
Just get off my ass.

Say…
I like orc lemon squares!
I do! I like them, Garrosh-There!
And I would eat them in my home!
And I would eat them with a gnome!
And I would have them on a boat,
And I would share with a space-goat!
I would eat them to my fill
All the way to Teldrassil!

I would take a doggy bag
(But spare me Utvoch and Dontrag)!
I would eat them on the moon,
With Cenarius and Mylune!
Yes, I will eat them here and there!
Oh, I would eat them anywhere!

I do so love
Orc lemon squares!
Thank you,
Thank you,
Garrosh-There.”

“See, I told you,”
Garrosh said.
“Plus you’re lucky
You’re not dead.”

“They’re so good!
So good, I say!
I might post them!
Yes I may!
I’ll post them on my blog,
I say!”

“Hold on a minute,
Silly tree.
That’s my Greatmother’s
Recipe.
Her recipe,
You silly tree.
We keep it
In the family!”

“But oh, they’re so good,
Garrosh-There!
They’re just too yummy
Not to share!
I’m sure your Greatmother
Won’t care!
I’ll spread her secret
Everywhere!

Now don’t get mad,
Garrosh! Relax!”

But he had gone
To get his axe.

 

EPIC VERSE!

 

Monday, once again, Mailbag

mail24

Citizens of the Horde,

It is time once again for me to respond to the various and sundry missives that have found their way to me since last week. This time I seem to drawn the attention of some unlikely writers indeed…

 

Salutations and greetings under the Infinitely Holy Light, Varok Saurfang! It is my hope that, with the recent change in leadership in Orgrimmar, peace talks can at some point resume. I write to you regarding a terrible danger the seers of the Exodar have seen growing in the heart of the Horde. I speak not of the abominable Banshee Queen or the legions of unholy warlocks infesting your cities, but of a force very close to the center of the Horde – the (currently missing) Garrosh Hellscream. Have you seen him lately? Before he went missing, I mean. He looks rather terribly like a Fel Orc; I fear he has been suckling at the same festering hellteats from which his father supped. Please, if you know it, tell me the identity of the Pit Lord whose blood he has been drinking! The destruction of Hellscream’s demonic master will (once again) liberate the Horde from servitude in the Legion, to the great good of life throughout the Universe.

The Naaru have not forgotten you!

–Eliseth the Argent Champion, The Exodar, Azuremyst Isle

Firstly, having spent considerable time with Warchief Hellscream in Northrend, and being very much aware of his busy schedule since his move to Durotar, I can attest that no such transgressions have taken place as the drinking of demon blood. Moreover, good Eliseth, I am troubled by your willingness to jump to conclusions based solely on the Warchief’s appearance; his skin tone is well within the range of hues common to Mag’har orcs, particularly those who suffered from the red pox in their youth, and if your comment is in some way a reference to the Warchief’s (well-publicized) cranial idiosyncrasies, I believe Warchief Hellscream himself has addressed this matter on at least one occasion.

Rest assured, therefore, that there is no demonic influence at the heart of the Horde, and, by extension, you need not worry that the Burning Legion has set its eyes once again on Azeroth. Should the Legion indeed move against this world, you may further take comfort that we orcs will be ready to stand against them in defense of our home, and in so doing will almost certainly provide you and your eredar kin with ample time to pack. There are, I am sure, plenty of other worlds to which you might relocate while the rest of the “Universe” about which you clearly care so much undertakes to clean up after you.

 

Dear Warchief Saurfang,

Congratulations on your elevation to leadership of the Horde. I’m sure your peons are thrilled to have a competent commander grinding their faces into the mud of Durotar. I’m writing to inquire about a specific aspect of foreign policy instituted under the (hopefully) late and unlamented Warchief Hellscream (may his body never be found); specifically, his declaration that “all Kalimdor belongs to the Horde”. This claim is idiotic, unenforceable, and will serve only to utterly repudiate any overtures of peace you may wish to make. I advise you to rescind this edict, and withdraw back past the Southfury where you belong. Or preferably, all the way back to Draenor. Get off our planet, alien scum!

Sincerely,

–Sepharad of the Nightfall
Watcher
Darnassus, Teldrassil
Kalimdor (seriously, it belongs to the Kaldorei)
Azeroth (not your homeworld)

Greetings, Sepharad. If you will indulge my pedantry for a moment, I would like to elucidate a few linguistic and rhetorical points that you may find beneficial in future endeavors.

Specifically, there is a concept in argument generally referred to as “ethical appeal.” This notion, contrary to what might be suggested by its nomenclature, does not hinge on one’s “ethical” or moral goodness, but rather on the manifest ethos, or identity, which one presents in one’s interactions. Thus, for instance, one who presents oneself as gracious and even-handed is likely to prove more persuasive than one who conveys a persona of rudeness and closed-mindedness, by virtue of their relative ethical appeal.

With this in mind, I might suggest in future missives, should you wish to urge policy change from your reader, you may do well not to open, for instance, by insinuating derision for your reader’s entire society and its adopted home; or by openly hoping for the demise of individuals about whose safety you know your readers to be sincerely concerned; or by levying thinly veiled threats, employing racial slurs, or expressing outright hostility toward your audience. (I would also note, if you truly take such offense at “alien scum” taking up residence on other worlds, you may wish to craft an additional letter to Prophet Velen of your allies the draenei, as his people, if we are to carry out a cursory review of history, have developed something of a pattern of behavior along these lines.)

These are basic concepts of rhetoric, and it saddens me that such an ancient and storied culture as that of the night elves would apparently fail to properly educate its watchers. Lacking a compelling argument in its support, therefore, I feel I must decline your policy recommendation.

[If at first you don’t succeed, you clearly aren’t Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]

With that said, if you will pardon me, a chill has begun to drift into the room, so I believe I shall go now to add a log or two of Ashenvale lumber to the fireplace.

 

Hiya Overlord Saurfang,

What’s up? Even though we goblins in Ratchet try to keep ourselves neutral to this whole Horde/Alliance thing, I do try to keep an eye on what’s going on in the major cities – especially since I have a few cousins in the Bilgewater Cartel living with you guys in Orgrimmar now. I noticed your post the other day about Garrosh’s wyvern getting loose, and I thought you’d be want to know about a weird moment we had here on the docks yesterday. I was hanging around here on the dock, minding my own business, when lo and behold a wyvern flies in and lands just a few yards away, and just sits around by the end of the dock. He wasn’t doing anything, not really even taking notice of anyone, just sitting there. The after a while, one of our ships came in from Booty Bay. The wyvern up and strolled onto the boat, sat himself back down, and just stayed there until the ship headed back out again.

Now, I don’t know if this was Garrosh’s wyvern. I don’t know what his wyvern looks like, other than, you know, looking like a wyvern, and I can’t say I could really tell one wyvern from another anyway. But I thought you might want to know about this.

–Wharfmaster Dizzywig, Ratchet

My thanks to you, Wharfmaster. This is interesting news indeed. While we cannot be certain that the wyvern you describe is the Warchief’s, its behavior certainly appears peculiar enough to merit investigation. I will notify our officers in Stranglethorn Vale of this development, and expand our scouting patrols to that region.

 

Greetings, Your Warchieferousness! I hope you’re having an absolutely splendid day. I am not having an absolutely splendid day because I keep bumping my head on the doorways here in the goblin slums. I may be the cutest undead killing machine ever to rise from the battlefields of the Third War, but terrible necromantic power has no effect on goblin architecture. Could you possibly see your way clear to annulling former acting Warchief Hellscream’s edict that all races “not strong enough” to defend Orgrimmar (anyone not a tauren or orc, in Hellscream’s piggy little eyes) be banished from the city? I am an implacable harbinger of icy death, and I’m worth at least two tauren anywhere outside a goblin barbeque. I know no fear! I know no pain! I am totally strong enough to defend Orgrimmar. I want my house back.

Yours,

–Twilight Vanquisher Aimee (Knight of the Ebon Blade, not the cake vendor), Frickin’ Goblin Slums

A pity, Aimee, that you aren’t the Aimee I recall from Northrend. Many were the evenings that I enjoyed one of her selections with my nightly Mok’nathal tea. I recall her red velvet cake was especially sumptuous. You might consider, in fact, looking into baking as a sideline, as I am sure you will find a great many fans should you demonstrate mastery in it; moreover, we find ourselves recently understaffed in Orgrimmar in the area of infantry cooks, so you may well find it a worthwhile avenue for career advancement.

Speaking of which, in a roundabout way, as you are a current resident of the goblin slums, how is the rice situation coming along? Markedly improved, I would hope.

At any rate, I realize that you are not the Aimee of cakery fame, though, again, I would urge you to consider my thoughts on the matter. Still, you certainly share a name of delicious connotation. (Have you considered adopting a pseudonym for combat purposes, incidentally? Though I do not doubt your martial prowess, I am unsure that “Aimee” strikes adequate fear into the hearts of your foes. Compare: “Run! Saurfang just cleaved the heads off of the general and his squire!” “Run! Aimee is accessorizing her Lovely Pink Dress!”)

Where were we again? You will pardon an old man for his tangents. Ah yes, the goblin slums.

Redistricting is indeed always a controversial issue, Aimee. I will endeavor to look into the matter, though the allocation of housing space in a high-demand, high-population area such as Orgrimmar is always precarious at best. In the interim, have you considered investigating real estate options in nearby Razor Hill? I am told suburban areas within easy commuting distance of the major urban centers often offer surprisingly reasonable rental costs. (I would suggest Bilgewater Harbor as another nearby option, but I believe you have clearly established your feelings on goblin neighborhoods.) Or, if you feel your happiness truly depends on residing in the city proper, perhaps the troll architecture of a few blocks north of you would be more suitable?

I will grant I am hardly a real estate expert – many years have passed since I paid off my mortgage on the old Nagrand split-level, and being as I am career military, I have myself always moved from one assigned quarters to the next – but I will attempt to look into matters further to see if anything can be done.

 

That is all the mail I have time to attend to his week; as always I thank you for your correspondence. I will, of course, continue to keep you posted on our unfolding operations, friends. Honor go with us all.

 

-Saurfang