Tag Archives: fuck you varian

Monday mailbag

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Another Monday, another batch of letters. Let’s see what my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS have to say to their favorite Warchief…

 

Greetings, Garrosh!

I feel like it’s been quite some time since last we corresponded. As it happens, I have been travelling, and taking a quill to parchment didn’t really make the cut of amazing new things to do. Which I happen to have recorded on a piece of parchment that I believe I wrote up two weeks ago. Anywho. By the way, did Rue’kara get her writing supplies back?

Anyway, my travels took me and Anaria to Ashenvale, where I made a very brief stop at the Silverwind Outpost to gather some rations and fresh arrows. Don’t worry, Ana stayed outside. I think she was freaked out by all the Night Elf corpses. Which, by the way, I totally respect you fighting a war and all, but couldn’t you at least clean them up?

Anyway…what I really wanted to bring up with you was the fact that I may or may not have bumped into your orcish associates, Seargent Dontrag and Scout Utvoch. Photographic evidence below;

d-and-u-and-sarlin

My question may be perceived as rhetorical, but I am genuinely intrigued; where did they learn math? And also, when did math start becoming relevant in the days of the week? I think there was something about Brewfest math too but I’d zoned out at that point.

I really am sorry.

I hope your luck is treating you well.

–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade

Well I’ll be damned, Sarlin, you were able to get in under the 250-word limit without even breaking a sweat. Will wonders ever cease.

So… yeah. You met those two. And… just to recap, for anyone who wasn’t paying attention, let me direct your attention to Sarlin in this picture…

d-and-u-and-sarlin

…and yeah, that’s pretty much the look I have on MY face when the Wonder Twins turn up, too.

By the way, it’s not Scout Utvoch anymore, just FYI. He’s Grunt Utvoch now, as of a couple days ago when he got a promotion. Was he still wearing his Scout insignia? Minor point, I know, but stay tuned, we’ll come back to it.

Good news is, Sarlin, I’ve got an easy answer for your question. Where did D&U learn math? They didn’t. Pro tip: any time a question begins “Where did D&U learn,” the answer is they didn’t. Every single time.

To be honest with you, though, I’m less concerned about D&U’s grasp of math (hang on — I think reality just shuddered a little at me stringing THOSE words together consecutively) than I am about their grasp of GEOGRAPHY. You say you ran into them at SILVERWIND REFUGE? Just… hanging out like they were ON DUTY or something?

Dude… they USED to be stationed out there, then I fucking reassigned them to Stonetalon… like TWO YEARS AGO. They served there under Krom’gar (and the less said about THAT motherfucker the better), then STAYED up that way when I put the region under Overlord Cliffwalker’s jurisdiction. And okay, then Cliffwalker pulled a fast one on me and shipped their asses down to Pandaria to get them out of his hair and back into mine. And for this past little while now, while I’ve been back in Orgrimmar, they’ve been in town here too, temporarily, pending the return trip south.

And the reason I’m even going into this much detail about it is so you can really appreciate the chain of travels, relocations, and reassignments that D&U have had SINCE the last time they were supposed to be in Silverwind Refuge.

And yet, there they were.

You know what? Fuck it. Good place for ’em. Let Captain Tarkan worry about what to do with ’em. Maybe they can go farm some Molten Front dailies, too, while they’re keeping busy in Three-Major-Villains-Ago Land. Maybe that’s just how slow their brains are, that they’re still getting caught up from like two years ago, and so every so often they have a collective brain fart and think they’re still supposed to be at the base where they USED to be stationed and HEY EUREKA maybe THAT’S why Utvoch was still going by “Scout,” because the goddamn hamster wheel in his brain is still spin spin spinning around trying to get caught up to TODAY, and sometimes the hamster falls over in the wheel and gets whipped around a few hundred times and in its dizzy confusion it has to take a wild guess at what year it is and sometimes it guesses wrong. So HEY, UTVOCH, in case you’re reading this, check it out, THE LICH KING IS DEAD NOW, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT?

 

Dear Mr. Warchief,

Isn’t Rhonin dead? I live in Dalaran and I hear him say something, like, every five minutes or something? Something about raising our eyes to the skies and observing? Why am I still hearing this? Is Rhonin’s ghost haunting us forever with his endless speech?

–Clarise Sunbow

Okay, so, I think I’m kind of in a unique position to say, definitely, that yes, Rhonin is dead. No two ways about it, dude got himself deaded up right good. Still, Clarise, that IS one hell of a weird thing to be stuck listening to over and over all day (not to mention annoying as fuck), so I went ahead and did a little research for you. NO NEED TO THANK ME. Seeing as you’ve apparently got a dead guy turning up and doing the same shit over and over, I went ahead and consulted with my own resident dead guy with a history of doing the same shit over and over, Doc Faranell over in the Undercity. Well, that is, I TRIED consulting with him on this. He mostly just kind of stared at me forlornly. Not especially helpful, really. Come to think of it, maybe Faranell wouldn’t know as much about this as I was thinking. I mean, yeah, two dead guys, but “walking around playing poker on Fridays”-dead is a lot different from “blown up by a mana bomb”-dead.

Luckily, though, I WAS eventually able to drag a possible answer out of Faranell, but he did it drawing more from the part where he’s a mage than from the part where he’s a reanimated dead guy with a history of being trapped in infinitely repeating time loops. Which, of the two, is really kind of the more mundane part of Faranell’s deal, and come to think of it, what kind of crazy bizarro world are we stuck in where being a fucking WIZARD is the BORING thing about someone? But anyhow, Faranell blathered some stuff about what’s probably going on, a lot of which I don’t really remember too well because it involved a load of technical magic talk and also because I wasn’t paying attention too closely because, let’s be honest, I don’t really care that much. BUT I SAID I WAS GOING TO GET YOU AN ANSWER, DAMMIT.

We soldier on.

So the gist of it is that after Rhonin got his ass arcane-kablooeyed all across the swamp, something about his personal magic power got amped up by the mana bomb magic power and the Focusing Iris magic power and did a thing with the whole Dalaran magic-ground-zero power, and something about a place that was personally important to him, and some other shit Faranell said that who the fuck can follow and who even cares really, and the end result is there’s some kind of arcane echo of Rhonin that’s been projected into Dalaran that keeps replaying a moment of his life over and over again. Which kind of makes me glad the dude never swung by this neck of the woods for a visit, because I’ve got enough pains in the ass to deal with without having to listen to “CITIZENS OF ORGRIMMAR! LOOK TO THE SKY!” every five minutes.

 

Hail, Warchief,

Tomorrow I am going to the Valley of Trials to face my om’riggor. At my father’s insistence, I write to you to confirm I will be joining that trainee program of yours, though I fail to see what I’ll get out of it. For the record, my father told me I should become a hunter, but I am no hunter’s son. Perhaps the Thunderlord of old thought that was good enough for them, but my father keeps wolves and my mother was a warrior, so I will keep wolves and fight for Orgrimmar. I was surprised when he told me, though; all I was ever told about my ancestral clan was that they kept the last wolf pen on Draenor around the time of the reign of Ner’zhul.

If you and my father are truly so frightened I will get myself killed, let me make this vow: when I am seasoned enough to command my own warriors, I will find my mothers killers and make them pay. Until then, I will bide my time, study the Alliance’s tactics and strike when they least expect it. I would kill those beasts now if I could, but they will only grow older and grayer, while I will grow stronger and tougher, as the years pass, after all. It will make my task easier, I’m sure.

–Corkrok Wolfrunner

P.S. By the way, your shaman friend hasn’t helped matters any – that wretched green-eyed wolf is still at it, and my father still doesn’t know what’s causing his condition.

Oh Corkrok…

tiguleforor1

…all these flavors, and you just had to choose to be salty, didn’t you?

You know, I get the sense that you’ve got some weird read on me that’s making you think I’m AGAINST you going after the humans who killed your mother. Let’s clear this up — I get it, okay? The Alliance killed your mother — reason #87,403 to rid the world of them –and you want them dead. GOOD. Awesome. I’m all for it. I am 100% UTTERLY PRO DEAD HUMANS. Are we clear on this?

The only thing your father and I want to make sure of is that you’re fully prepared when the time comes for you to square off against them in battle. So guess what — that means WE ALL WANT THE SAME DAMN THING. So, to that end, I’m assigning you to Overlord Runthak’s trainee group. He’s one of our best warriors and no stranger to the Alliance tactics (pfft) that you seem so keen to study up on. You stick with him, and soon enough you’ll get your chance to have at the humans.

As for the “green-eyed wolf” — Golmash, if I remember right — I know it’s still a work in progress. I’ve been getting reports from Mokvar, who’s the “shaman friend” you mentioned… well, other than the fact that he’s really NOT a shaman, he just used to be, but then I guess I can’t really blame you for getting that mixed up because honestly, dude changes classes more often than ogres change underwear (i.e., more than once per lifetime). And, well, if we’re being totally real here, even the “friend” part is at least debatable. But still. Yeah. He’s been keeping me up to date on his research. We’ve got a couple possible leads, but it might not be a situation with a quick fix. More updates to follow on that one. Probably best to let your father and me and my, um, shaman warlock friend friend (?) oh fuck it whatever friend worry about this one for the time being. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, good luck with the om’riggor, and glad to see you finally coming to your senses about training. Well, sort of, at least. See above re: salty. But, you know, whatever gets the job done, right?

 

Dear Warchief,

What strength or other quality do you wish you/the Horde could assimilate or appropriate from the Alliance or other factions/enemies.

Undying loyalty,

–Sintra E’Drien

I mean, if we’re talking about one side APPROPRIATING things from the other, you maybe want to go talk to the ALLIANCE about where they got that awesome idea to set up a Brawler’s Guild. Just sayin’. I mean, not for nothing, but nothing pisses me off more than people ripping off my ideas (with the possible exceptions of Magatha and Johnny Awesome and gnomes and humans and murlocs and people who sit there on their big-ass mounts blocking the mailbox because FUCK those people). Seriously, what’s next? How many more of my ideas are going to get ripped off by assholes? Is somebody going to steal the genius idea to travel back to the past that I had forever ago? Or WAS it forever ago? WHO’S TO SAY, because FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

As for qualities I’D like to copy from the Alliance… um… hmm. Kind of drawing a blank here, to tell you the truth. The night elves and draenei both have massive lifespans, so I guess that would be pretty cool. Although the blood elves live a damned long time, too, because elves, and I suppose the Forsaken are pretty much immortal as long as nobody KILLS them kills them, because, you know, they already died once and who wants to do that shit again? But that means we’ve already got the super-duper lifespans covered in-house… So… nope. I got nothin’.

So… hmm… maybe I can take a look at some of the other factions out there and see if they have anything going for them…

Timbermaw Hold — I don’t have some quality that I’d want to gain from them, exactly, but I DO find it kinda cool how, due to some tribal technicality, they recognize the Warchief of the Horde — whoever that happens to be — as an Archbishop. True story. I have the funny hat to prove it.

The Keepers of Time — Don’t even get me started. Also, not for nothing, but why do we actually have the Keepers of Time, AND the Scale of the Sands, AND the Brood of Nozdormu? Aren’t they all pretty much the same thing? Or is this some kind of freaky time travel thing where they literally ARE the same thing but from overlapping timelines and they need to use different names to make sure they don’t cross the streams because timey whimey and OMG FUCKING TIME TRAVEL. HEAD HURTS.

The Argent Crusade — I would love to have their apparent ability to be around Tirion all day and somehow not feel an overpowering urge to KILL EVERYTHING EVER.

The Sons of Hodir — Okay, you know what? This isn’t a trait that the whole faction has, and for that matter, it’s not even something I would want to pass on to the entire Horde. It’s purely something about that Thorim dude that I’d like to grab up for myself. The guy does an absolutely KILLER Baine Bloodhoof voice. Annoys the living FUCK out of Baine. Always has. Just being REMINDED of Thorim gets Baine all grumbly. Next time you’re in Thunder Bluff, in fact, roll up on Baine and just go “IN THE MOUNTAINS!” in the best Thorim voice you can manage. Even if it’s not that good. Maybe even ESPECIALLY if it’s not that good. Just try it. Anyway, I bet it would be a fucking BLAST if I could do the voice like ol’ MC Hammer does.

Tushui Pandaren — Okay, so here we go. I knew if I mulled it over for long enough, I’d be able to come up with SOMEBODY from within the Alliance that had something going for them. So, here you go, Sintra, here’s something from an Alliance sub-faction that I’d like to emulate myself — a picture’s worth a thousand words:

fyv1

Nuff said, motherfucker. Nuff said.

 

Dearest warchief,

I understand that some of my past conduct may have accidentally agitated you, but I am writing to assure you of my resolve to make amends and offer my ongoing service!

As one of your followers informed you in your last mailbag (See? I am even a regular blog reader and fan. Not disuaded by all the bounty hunters you have sent after me!), I recently risked great bodily harm to make up for past mistakes and eliminate Magatha Grimtotem on your behalf!

Unfortunately she managed to get away. I know I must have hurt her a lot though! Those Face Melters pack a wallop, and I can only imagine they must do even more damage to the target than the user. Otherwise I may have made a very poor investment.

But as you can see, my loyalty has not wavered! Even after all the time I have needed to spend in hiding. And so I write to you now in hopes that my efforts with the Grimtotem crone will return me to your good graces.

The blade of Johnny Awesome awaits your bidding warchief!

Lock-tar ogre,

–Johnny Awesome, Felwood

So, a few points here.

First, for anyone who doesn’t remember… ugh, now I actually have to relive this shit again… I ran into this Johnny Awesome guy a couple years ago while Garona and I were working a case, and he was all looking for missions to make himself useful, and so, you know, I went into questgiver mode and sent him off to Thousand Needles to find some busywork for himself or maybe hopefully get himself killed. IF ONLY. And so OF COURSE it would JUST SO HAPPEN that the Twilight nutjob cult was holding Magatha PRISONER in Thousand Needles, and she duped ol’ Johnny Asshole into HELPING her, and then she went prancing off on her merry way and don’t even get me STARTED on the whole shitstorm she stirred up from THERE.

So, second, yeah, this is THAT Johnny Awesome.

Which leads us to THIRD AND FOURTH, holy fucking shit do I fucking HATE that guy, YES I DO.

Oh, and, FIFTH, he didn’t exactly help his cause by somehow managing to fuck up “Lok’tar ogar” while writing to THE GODDAMN WARCHIEF looking for forgiveness.

But, on the topic of your request there, Johnny, let me put it this way:

SIXTH — Look at that, people, HE JUST TOLD YOU HE’S IN FELWOOD. THE BOUNTY’S NOW UP TO TWO MILLION GOLD — GET OUT THERE, GET HUNTING, AND BRING ME THE HEAD OF JOHNNY MOTHERFUCKING AWESOME!

 

That’s all for this time. Keep sending those letters. But not before you head up to Felwood and lay some decapitating on ol’ Sparkle-Pony-Boy.

More soon.

 

[The Warchief’s next mailbag will be Monday, May 2. Send your questions, comments, or other missives to Garrosh via or email through the link in the upper right sidebar, or, as always, using the handy-dandy form below:]

 

Monday mailbag

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Quite a bit of mail this time around, so no sense wasting time — let’s get right to it…

 

Greetings Warchief!

I just finished reading your blog from the beginning, which took me a couple of weeks. I was actually looking for a picture of Liadrin, NOT IN THE GURTASH WAY. It was then that I found a comic drawn by Gurtash that had Liadrin in it, specifically the one where we met Shayari, and I thought Garrosh’s daughter WHAT?! And that led to a lot of reading in my free time.

Why was I looking for Liadrin you ask? I make hero concepts for Heroes of the Maelstorm and wanted to add a picture to my post.

So my question is- have you ever played Heroes of the Maelstrom, it made from the same people as the creators of Earth Online and the concept is you take a bunch of people from there, other games, and our own world (because hey who is more badass than who we have running around). If not I recommend it as a change of pace from EO.

–Glen Bloodblade

So, on the one hand, welcome to the blog, Glen. Thanks for reading. On the other hand, what the fuck took you so long, Glen? I mean seriously. Apparently I have to go have a talk with someone in the publicity department. Do we have a publicity department? I would say we should create one if we don’t already, but knowing my luck, it would be packed with the usual fuckwittery that I constantly have surrounding me, so the publicists would run around “advertising” classified military secrets, while meanwhile I have a frigging ghost town of tumbleweeds turning out for my book signing. Again. And I don’t remember fucking seeing YOU there either, Glen, so don’t think for a second YOU’RE off the hook. You watch your ass, Glen. You watch your ass.

Anyway. I can’t say I’ve tried this Heroes of the Maelstrom thing, Glen. Mostly as a matter of self-preservation, really. I figure, Earth Online already sucks up so damn much of my time, the last thing I need is ANOTHER one of these damn games soaking up my days. So I haven’t really tried any other games. Other than that one time when Garona talked me into trying Second Azeroth for like five minutes, but that came to a screeching halt when I wandered into that region full of decked-out scalies, because fuck that shit. I guess I can’t say Spazzle didn’t try to warn me.

Still, this Heroes of the Maelstrom DOES sound pretty badass. Especially if they’re managing to build this into like an all-star team of characters from real life, Earth Online, and all the offshoot universes that they’ve managed to build into other games. Could be fun. I mean, really, just think of it… who’s gonna turn down the chance to have a big barroom brawl, and roll in with a team of Saurfang, Snake-Eyes, Batman, Chewbacca, and Optimus Prime?

(I’m… suddenly a little worried I was able to rattle all those names off the top of my head. Spirits help me, I’m spending too much time around Spazzle.)

 

Hey, Professor G!

I have another one!

A space goat came travelling on his ship from afar,”

–Valinora Lightshorn

Hey, Valinora. Thanks for writing, other than the fact that you’re apparently human, which would ordinarily draw a big ol’ FUCK YOU, except for the facts that (A) you had the good sense to recognize an EPIC VERSE asskicking when you saw it, and (2), speaking of EPIC VERSE, you seem to be stepping right into the role of setting up the ol’ masterpieces for me.

So, sure, fine by me. You want to keep giving me these prompts, I’ll keep making with the EPIC. Oh, and this one looks pretty rich, too… you want me to opine lyrically on the voyages of the space goats, huh? Okay, you asked for it. Strap in, bitches.

A space goat came traveling on his ship from afar,
Twas thousands of years since his mission did start;
He thought Oshu’gun was a good place to park,
And he fell from the sky like a star, a burning star…

The space goats were led by their prophet for years;
They’d fled their home planet of Argus in fear.
Old Velen resolved he was going to steer clear
Of his brothers, consumed by the Legion… so off they raced.

They flew to a planet; I cannot say which.
Kil’jaeden pursued; Velen played bait-and-switch.
Collateral damage — I know it’s a bitch,
But the space goats, they’re making their omelettes… so QQ, eggs.

And they QQ’ed, AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
They died at the hands of the Legion, while the drae’s got away.

From planet to planet, for thousands of years,
Old Velen kept bailin’, till he wound up here.
Then — who would’ve guessed it? — the Legion appeared.
And they were the gift that kept giving, so yeah, thanks, drae’s.

And that’s how the space goats wound up in this war,
But buyer beware if you build that rapport:
The first sign of trouble, they’re out the back door,
And they’ll stick you to pick up their mess, another time…

And you’ll QQ, AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
You’ll die at the hands of the Legion, while the drae’s get away.
          (You don’t have to hold your breath waiting!)
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
          (It’s just a matter of when, not if, believe me!)
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH
          (They won’t even share any of that OP tech of theirs or anything!)
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
          (Not even the specs for the buses they’re gonna throw you under!)
You’ll die at the hands of the Legion, while the drae’s get away…

EPIC VERSE!

 

Yo, Warchief,

Once again, glad to see things worked out with Blackfuse. Now, though, I’ve got a little down-time – well, actually, a lot of down time – and could use a job or two to keep me on my toes. You got anything I can do for you?

–Grotee Metalbeard, Goblin Shaman

Huh. Grottee, are you feeling okay? I guess I shouldn’t jinx a good thing, but man, you got in and out of that letter faster than it takes Sarlin to ramble through her greeting.

Not complaining, mind you. Grats on making the short list of people around here who actually fucking LISTEN.

Anyhow, Grottee, since you were my source for that Tome of Dinomancy, which I’m still keeping safe and secure in my quarters where it can be ready to take back to Pandaria with me and safely out of range of any other, um, incendiary cooking experiments by Shayari… um… Where was I going with this? I think that sentence kind of got away from me once I became momentarily consumed with concern about my home possibly burning to the ground over an arcane-powered loaf of bread.

OH. RIGHT. Jobs I can send you on. And I assume you mean ACTUAL jobs that really have a useful purpose, not the random busywork jobs we give out to random noobs to keep them out of everyone’s hair. (You know, kill seven of these, collect six of these, five gold rings, everything but a partridge in a motherfucking pear tree. I have to admit, though, the ones that crack me up the most are the ones where we make people go digging through piles of poop, and the fuckers run right out and do it.)

So since you were my Tome source, Grottee, why don’t you head down to Pandaria and check in with General Nazgrim. Now, mind you, he’s under orders not to move ahead on Operation Dinosaurs Yippee Ki-Yay until I get down there in a week or so, but then, he was ALSO under orders not to move ahead before, and he still saw fit to screw his head squarely up his ass trying to go off the script. And got that lunkhead asshole Steve eaten and shat out by a dino while he was at it. (SPEAKING OF POOP QUESTS.)

 

Hey Big G!

Wish I had some good news from the Blackfuse Company, but-ah-I kinda had a weird run in a couple of days ago. Some blond elf kid came an’ bought my entire supply of leftover Face Melters. They just weren’t sellin’, even outta Booty Bay! So, this kid got ’em for a song. No, literally. He sang for ’em. Somethin’ about a dead horse. What was the name? Sparkles? Eh, it don’t matter. I didn’t even have a chance to explain the risks to him. Especially in that leather armor he was wearin’. He did sign the indemnity waiver that disavows me of all legal and moral responsibility though. Thank the laws of physics for mooks who don’t take the time to read, even if it, say, had directions to Gallywix’s secret gold an’ dirty magazine vault hidden away out there.

The weird part? Not even a day later, an’ I’m ridin’ my custom-fitted chopper ’round Ashenvale to go an’ help out your guys at the Warsong Lumber Mill with some defective shredders. All of a sudden, the forest shakes, glitter’s rainin’ down from the trees, an’ I come across one very charred but very alive tauren woman an’ that elf kid! She was screamin’ an’ yellin’ about “That’s the last you’ll see of old Magatha!” while limpin’ away through the trees! That ain’t somethin’ ya see every day! An’ that damn kid, he just didn’t give up! Charred to hell, clothes burnt to cinders, an’ he hobbles after her, firin’ off Face Melter after Face Melter! I had to run for cover because I did NOT want to be on the receivin’ end of that blast. Between explosions an’ hackin’ up glitter, I heard him yellin’ “I AM JOHNNY AWESOME! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” I don’t think that elf’s right in the head. HE TOOK OUT MY DAMNED CHOPPER WITH HIS EXPLOSIVES! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG A WALK IT IS BACK TO BILGEWATER HARBOR WHEN YOU’VE GOT LITTLE LEGS?! I’m currently camped out at the rear gate. Maybe I should pick up the parts for a new chopper while I’m in the neighborhood, huh?

–Glessee “Glitch” Sparkbolt

Okay, Glessee, ordinarily I would give you some obligatory “hello”s and “how are you”s, but right now we’ve got more important things to deal with. Namely, let me make sure I’m getting all this straight. So… what you’re telling me is… the leather-wearing, sparkle-pony-mourning JOHNNY AWESOME —

johnnyawesome

WHO I HATE, ever since he helped Magatha that time — bought up a stash of defective weapons… and then used them, for whatever spirits-forsaken reason, to go after fucking MAGATHA GRIMTOTEM — WHO I HATE MORE, ever since, well, seriously, where do I even fucking START? — and the whole thing ended up with the two of them burned to a crisp and charred all to hell and stumbling all cinder-like through Ashenvale?

Okay, dude, you know what? I know that for the last, I don’t know, FOREVER, I’ve held an unwavering stance of “FUCKING TIME TRAVEL,” but I might have to make an exception here, because goddamn would I love to go back and witness that happening live. I could spread that sight over bread and eat it for fucking dinner. Hot damn. HA! <snort>

 

Hey, Garrosh,

Glad to see you still have new and inventive ways to embarrass yourself in front of your daughter. Congrats on alienating the only family you have.

–Varian Wrynn, Stormwind

Oh, hey, Varian, Nice to see you’ve got time in your schedule to write, seeing as I’m sure sucking as hard as you do must take a load of time and effort. Actually, speaking of which, let me cover this before I forget. I AM kind of in EPIC VERSE mode today, and I know you’ve always appreciated my handiwork, so here, here’s one for you on the house:

Two roads diverged in the Elwynn wood
A mere stone’s cast from House of Wrynn,
And for a while, there alone you stood
And weighed, down one path, the likelihood
Of sights of dread at the Goldshire Inn.

You turned to the other winding path
To the northern abbey’s questing hubs.
Even you could do the mental math:
In Goldshire, your brain would need a bath;
Abbey north would just be full of scrubs.

You chose the north road to navigate,
Where fewer leaves had been trodden back.
A visit to Goldshire Inn could wait;
Perhaps one day if you had a date:
You doubted if you should ever come back.

One day you’ll tell this with much ado;
You’ll pardon if I spoil the suspense:
Two roads diverged in the wood, and you–
You chose the one less traveled through.
But that made no difference, because you still suck.
Fuck you, Varian.

Again I say — EPIC VERSE!

But before I give you the finger and send you on your way, I should probably address your point. I mean, you DID pull your head out of your ass long enough to… actually, now that I look back at what you wrote, you didn’t really pull your head out of your ass for that at all, did you? Probably just as well, seeing as having your head constantly jammed up your ass just means your face will be close enough to kiss it goodbye next time I see you. But, either way, I should probably address your point, assheaded though it was.

So, speaking of being an embarrassment to your kid, well, here, let me let one of your fellow readers make my point for me…

 

Lok’tar Warchief Hellscream,

I write to you, not as an ally of Stormwind. Seriously, fuck that idiot King. I’d have half a mind of giving him the Garona Special, but she is one of the few things I fear. I write to you to extend a hand of peace and understanding, being a child of two worlds like your own daughter. My mother was a human. My father was a Blackrock Orc. I know not of what became of either of my parents. As for my peace offering, well, following in the footsteps of another halfbreed rogue does have its benefits! If only I understood these bizarre goblin and gnomish devices better, I could have captured him singing one of those annoying Earth Online pop songs!

prettyvarian

Enjoy!

–Shakis Addington

So… Shakis… I mean, I’m sure there’s… hehe… there’s plenty for me to… heh… to comment on your family background… <chuckle> …and I could probably make a… hehehe… a smartassy comment about being offered a “Garona Special” of my own a time or two, but… ha… hahaha… I mean… <chortle> …oh seriously, you know I can’t get past that… that… THAT!

HAAAAAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAA!

Ahem. Okay. So… um…

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Heh. Hehehehehehe.

Okay! Hehehe… Okay, so, to recap for all of you, I just had one reader notify me that Johnny Awesome bought a load of unstable armaments, went after Magatha Grimtotem, and got both of them blown nearly to the Nether in the process. And THEN, and then…

prettyvarian

HeheheHEHEHEHE HAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!

I mean really, dude, do you realize… a shark could bite my dick off right now, and this would STILL count as an awesome day.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…

That’s it for now. I just… I need to go and… like… I don’t know, do something happy.

More soon.

<GIGGLESNORT>

 

[The Warchief’s next mailbag will be Monday, April 4. Send your questions, comments, or other missives to Garrosh via or email or, as always, using the handy-dandy for below:]

 

Monday mailbag

mailbag7

Okay, time to dip into the ol’ mailbag. You all know how this works, so here we go…

 

Dear Warchief,

Thank you so much for your generous response. Lyssa was so happy that she got a little frisky, which always makes me happy, you know what I mean. 😉 (She is a cat most of the time, after all.) I sympathize with your frustrations due to expenditures- having been a mother myself once (back when I was still “alive”, though not anymore, may the Goddess curse that human Arthas), I know all about the kinds of bills teens can ring up. (You really do need huge heaping mounds of gold. Like, a dragon’s hoard worth.)

In appreciation, please find enclosed your very own PMS device. It is soft and fluffy and purrs very convincingly, and it may prove a distraction for Shayari as well, if she likes kittens. (Especially if it is wearing a bow or ribbons.)

PMS? That stands for Personal Mylune Survival device. Why? What did you think it meant?

In any event, having been told that the idiot human Varian sometimes reads these letters and your responses, I have a message for him.

Varian- Fuck you! You are a moron- when a ten-thousand year old-plus matriarch (that means ruler) of an entire race of people (two, if you count my ancestors) nods and asks you to tell her what to do, she is NOT SERIOUS, she is MOCKING YOU. Do you really think that you have seen more combat, acquired more experience, discovered more tactics, and learned more strategy than her in all her years? She even only tolerates Malfurion (on the rare occasions when he stops napping) because his furry bear feet keep her toes warm- she has plenty of other options in a nation where the men usually and regularly go into comas for centuries.

From TWO Elven nations: FUCK YOU, VARIAN! (Also, I think Mylune would be a perfect wife for you. Or maybe Magatha.)

(Apologies to you, Dear Warchief, I’ll try to keep it shorter next time, if there is one)

–Sintra E’Drien (and her mate Lyssa Nightblossom)

ps. Thalassian Brandy tastes very good. 😉

Hey again, Sintra. Okay, so you know what? There were a bunch of things in this letter that I was going to respond to, but they all kind of got lost in this big blur of FUCK YOU, VARIAN. Especially the part about Tyrande Who’s-Her-Whisper actually mocking ol’ King Ponytail when he thinks he’s being all badass and shit. And the part about him being a moron. And the part about him getting paired off with Mylune. Mind you, if miracles of entertainment happened and Varian DID get himself hitched to Mylune, we’d have to make sure that nobody hooked him up with one of those PMS devices, because we can’t rob ourselves of the hilarity by letting Varian distract her with something small and furry. Plus, trust me, I’ve met Varian — dude has enough PMS all by himself, without anybody sending him the anti-Mylune device.

Although, this does occur to me, there might be a market in developing a line of anti-whoever gear. Like the Mylune one is a no-brainer — make something small and furry that makes cutesy purring noises, then when you see Mylune, toss it one direction and get your ass moving in another. Golden. But you could totally market a bunch of these. Like you could build an anti-Tirion device that’s like a mannequin with a face that looks all interested, that plays a recording of someone going “Tell me more! I want to hear all about it!” Or you could do an anti-Velen device that’s just a big sign that says “Burning Legion invading — planetary exit this way!” Or you could do an anti-Magatha device that basically consists of Gorehowl chopping her into little tiny pieces because fuck her.

Obviously, I’m just spitballing here.

Oh, and also: agreed on the Thalassian Brandy.

 

Greetings, Warchief, and Light’s blessing to you!

As that last letter caused quite a stir, what with a possible war on my hands, as well as having to use an ink substitute (it’s scorpion poison, so don’t lick it!) I’m afraid that I cannot convey quite as much information onto you as I would like. But, as literal a lady as I may be, I have picked up the hints and I have no doubt that this is exceptionally great news to you! Nonetheless, I still have time to explain the situation before I begin.

I have my ways and means regarding paper, the first being the nearby logging camp. Did you know that place was infested with spiders quite a bit, recently? Now, I am a woman of few fears, and I am hesitant to say that spiders are among those few fears. They just have too many legs. The natives of Azeroth have proven that only two is necessary! Not to mention they have no real function other than devour more threatening prey, but even so, that’s disgusting and they are as good as abberations to me. Nonetheless, the spiders have been vanquished and our lumber is safe again! Not that it never was, of course. I simply no longer fear strolling down and requesting more wood for paper! Since the Kal’dorei have no authorities over the wood in the Western Plaguelands, I think I shouldn’t have to worry too much about a war. As a precaution, I asked both my lovely Anaria Moonseeker and Miss L’Rayne why the forests were so sacred to them. They both laughed and I never really got my answer. Of course, we were all after a few cups at the time, so I might try approaching them again when we’re sober. Nothing against my fellow Crusader or my sweet lady, not to mention the woman who raised me, but Night Elves are a peculiar people. Mind you, if they started ravaging Eversong Woods, I’d be miffed. I also am aware that this may draw the Night Elves’ attention back to yourself, but I’m sure you have the means to deal with it. After all, there are several Horde leaders but only one Warchief!

As for the scorpion poison, well, there are ways of compressing that to make it more visible on paper. It’s the same colour as the ink that I used before, thanks to a solution Anaria prepared, but it can still be toxic if you were to eat it. Since I’ve used it quite finely, you may simply experience some disorientation or sickness, but I don’t see that that being a problem, unless you eat paper. I just thought I’d let you in on that, in case you DID eat paper. Who am I to judge the Warchief’s culinary preferences? This piece of paper would be better off being tucked away and not eaten. I still have a fine stock of that scorpion poison, so now it’s only a matter of keeping the lumber mill going! I thought that this would be sufficient as a substitute for the ink that is slowly becoming less obtainable. I hope that the lovely young shaman Rue’kara can get her stationaries back soon! How unfortunate that her own letters are limited to such a pulp. She probably has so much to say, poor child. Anyhow! That’s that, and all problems solved!

It would seem a certain metal-beared goblin had quite a bit to say regarding my letters to you, sir. I, for one, am irate, but the ways of the Light have taught me that anger and resentment will only lead to a manifestation of regret and ever-building hatred, so I will bury the hatchet for now and try not to reference said goblin while the Light grants me the strength to repress such hatred. While this anger is still surging mightily, I have to agree on one point that he made; I haven’t really been of much help, have I?

Well, even though I was not present, I know of your visits to Hearthglen through the town chatter, even though I was oblivious of the events that were taking place. See, I was travelling at the time, which I tend to do every few months or so, and when I came back, I did notice a sort of difference. A kind of hush, as though I’d just arrived after a tragic event had taken place. I felt inclined to ask the Highlord, and I did, but even he was at a loss for words, and that is truly saying something. I mean, really. Time travel is…something I am somewhat familiar with. That being said, I know of a bronze dragon, although the identity is to be kept secret for her sake. I haven’t actually travelled backwards through time, nor forwards, but I visited the Caverns of Time, and I saw some of the rifts here and there pulling and tugging, as though the place felt a turn when I entered it. Somehow, I feel slightly connected to it. It’s a sensation that I cannot describe well, but there’s a familiarity about it that I am trying to make sense of, as though I’d been there before. Maybe an alternate me? Wow, I wonder what she does for a living. My bronze friend gave me a little information on how time works, and how she’s travelled on it previously, but as you may have learned, bronze dragons are as cryptic as any old soothsayer or rambling prophet, (which is extremely annoying since they might actually have ANSWERS for us, whereas prophets just ramble on and on and on…) and since I can’t get any answers from her regarding that particular feeling, I have dropped the matter entirely and haven’t been there since. Still, I’ve never stopped wondering…

While this is irrelevant to what you and this doctor Faranell you mentioned had to experience, I simply want to extend a warning, given everything I have learned thus far through my readings of history. The Old Gods corrupted one Aspect, Deathwing, but he was not the only one that was used to their advantage. The Old Gods want nothing more than to see our world in endless agony, and so they invaded Nozdormu’s realm and succeeded in opening a rift in time, so that they could alter the events of the War of the Ancients and give the dark lord, Sargeras, a fresh attempt to enter the world. If not for the efforts of Malfurion Stormrage, these cursed entities would have succeeded, and Azeroth would have been lost to madness. The Bronze Dragonflight are a mighty race, sir, but we all have our weaknesses, even Nozdormu himself. Had he suspected such a travesty, he surely would have prevented it.

We know that there are multiple timelines out there, and we know that, without the assistance of the Bronze Dragonflight, the events of the entwined timeways wouldn’t have been resolved. Be wary, good sir. You must place your trust in those you know can be trusted, and no-one else. If the Bronze Dragonflight fell to the same corruption as Neltharion, our world would be undone as you know it. After all, Algalon had already decided that it wasn’t worth saving. Let us prove him wrong. Let us protect Azeroth as best we can.

With regards to being of any use to you, I’d merely have you know that I do not plan on leaving Hearthglen for quite some time, so should you decide to make a visit in the meantime, know that I shall stand at your service and grant you the hospitality which you seek. It’s the least I can do. Thank you for your time.

P.S Did you really get a Zandaliri troll to perform a lapdance for you? How much did it cost?

Go in peace, good sir.

–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade

Hoo boy. Here we go.

Hello again, Sarlin. Nice to…hear from you. Again.

As that last letter caused quite a stir,

As in, people stirring up poisonous drinks to kill themselves with.

what with a possible war on my hands,

Well, you know, the many, many trees you’ve wiped out to make paper were only going to take so much.

as well as having to use an ink substitute (it’s scorpion poison, so don’t lick it!)

I really wonder what you think I do with my time that you felt this warning was necessary.

I’m afraid that I cannot convey quite as much information onto you as I would like.

Oh thank the spirits. Maybe we’ll manage to be in and out of here in less than a month.

Nonetheless, I still have time to explain the situation before I begin.

Well, so much for that idea. Here we go, kids. Grab a drink, and maybe a snack, and maybe the next two or three days’ meals, and strap in.

Did you know that place was infested with spiders quite a bit, recently? Now, I am a woman of few fears, and I am hesitant to say that spiders are among those few fears. They just have too many legs. The natives of Azeroth have proven that only two is necessary!

Dude, I fucking hate spiders. They’re all gross and crawly and, like you said, they have way more legs than any self-respecting person should ever have, and let’s not even get started on the eyes. I fucking hate things with creepy extra eyes. Plus there was that time up in Stonetalon when the head troll dude in Malaka’jin told me there was some Queen Silith who wanted to meet with me, only GUESS WHAT, turns out she was this GIANT FUCKING SPIDER. LONG LIVE THE FUCKING QUEEN. Except for the part where I killed her.

As a precaution, I asked both my lovely Anaria Moonseeker and Miss L’Rayne why the forests were so sacred to them. They both laughed and I never really got my answer.

It’s the glitter. Night elves love them some glitter, and the trees in their forests leak the stuff like sap. Someday I want to find out just what the fuck is the deal with that, like what kind of trees ooze fucking GLITTER out of their bark, and why they only seem to grow around nigh elves.

I mean, I’m pretty sure Thalassian Brandy would like to know. She could have a personal supply of the stuff right there on hand.

As for the scorpion poison, well, there are ways of compressing that to make it more visible on paper. It’s the same colour as the ink that I used before, thanks to a solution Anaria prepared, but it can still be toxic if you were to eat it. Since I’ve used it quite finely, you may simply experience some disorientation or sickness, but I don’t see that that being a problem, unless you eat paper.

Wait… disorientation? You mean to say you can be HIGH on this shit? No wonder there are always so many trolls always hanging around the inscription place in the Drag.

I hope that the lovely young shaman Rue’kara can get her stationaries back soon! How unfortunate that her own letters are limited to such a pulp. She probably has so much to say, poor child.

Yeah, you know what? I think you’ve got the “so much to say” pretty well covered. Let’s not drag Ruekie into this.

It would seem a certain metal-beared goblin had quite a bit to say

Hi, pot. This is Sarlin. You’re black.

I, for one, am irate, but the ways of the Light have taught me that anger and resentment will only lead to a manifestation of regret and ever-building hatred,

The next time you two chat, could you ask the Light what the fuck it’s talking about?

I have to agree on one point that he made; I haven’t really been of much help, have I?

Oh geez, why do I get the feeling she’s about to start Dontragging? Like, even more?

I was travelling at the time, which I tend to do every few months or so, and when I came back, I did notice a sort of difference. A kind of hush, as though I’d just arrived after a tragic event had taken place. I felt inclined to ask the Highlord, and I did, but even he was at a loss for words, and that is truly saying something. I mean, really.

STOP THE FUCKING PRESSES, SHOCKING NEWS WITH AN IRONIC LOOK-WHO’S-TALKING CHASER

I haven’t actually travelled backwards through time, nor forwards, but I visited the Caverns of Time, and I saw some of the rifts here and there pulling and tugging, as though the place felt a turn when I entered it. Somehow, I feel slightly connected to it. It’s a sensation that I cannot describe well, but there’s a familiarity about it that I am trying to make sense of, as though I’d been there before. Maybe an alternate me? Wow, I wonder what she does for a living.

I’ll bet you anything she’s not a mime.

We know that there are multiple timelines out there, and we know that, without the assistance of the Bronze Dragonflight, the events of the entwined timeways wouldn’t have been resolved. Be wary, good sir.

Dude, are you seriously giving ME a speech on not getting mixed up in timeline fuck-uppery? Hey, I’ve got an idea, how about I get Faranell in here and you can give him a whole speech about making sure he doesn’t get himself unstuck in time for like a zillion years. Earth Online says hello:

wonka

With regards to being of any use to you, I’d merely have you know that I do not plan on leaving Hearthglen for quite some time,

Well at least I know where not to go for the next month or two.

Thank you for your time.

Well you fucking well burned up enough of it.

Speaking of which. When you write back — BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WILL — you are officially getting the modified Twitter treatment. Are you reading carefully? Go grab some of your not-for-snack-time paper and scorpion ink, and write this down: YOU ARE OFFICIALLY ON A 250-WORD LIMIT FOR ALL FUTURE LETTERS. Or, what the hell, if you want to go OVER 250 words, whatever, knock yourself out, but I am going to STOP READING at word #250. Are we clear on this? Are we good? Okay? Good.

Fucking hell. I don’t get paid enough for this job. I really don’t.

 

Most Honored Warchief,

Greetings once again Warchief Hellscream. I come bearing ill tidings from Towlong Steppes. I was out leading some of your Horde adventurers through and giving them a Lay of the land while on the way for clean up duty on the Isle of Thunder. Along the way, we passed by a giant eel, G’nathus. The undead warrior and orc shaman decided that it might be a bit of fun to go and test themselves against such a creature. I agreed, if only to keep them alive against such a beast. At first, it seemed to go very well. The warrior took electrocution like nothing I had ever seen before! Then a squid came from nowhere and decided to see if my totems were filled with beer (they’re keg-shaped, you see)! That sadly broke all my concentration and we were forced to flee, but not without some injuries. The poor shaman was smacked around, almost worse than the warrior! Thank the Celestials for ahnks, by the way!

Before this old man babbles for too much longer, I must regretfully inform you that the Shado-Pan has decided to bill the Horde for the loss of precious reagents and my totems. Not that I require the financial compensation, but Lord Zhu insists! Really! He started going on about the outsiders bringing ruin to our land again. It is a very…tiring speech.

Regretfully yours,

–Shen Wei Pureblossom

You do not get to talk about “tiring speeches” immediately after Sarlin’s letter.

That said… Hang on, you mean I’m getting stuck with ANOTHER bill? Is this how things work for that panda-Tirion Zhu guy? Something happens that you don’t like, so you ring up an itemized list to send along to whoever you can? Not to mention, I just finished LOOKING OVER the aforementioned itemized list, and are you fucking KIDDING me? What are your totems fucking MADE of, diamonds?! I thought they were listing the price in coppers when I saw that shit. What the fuck is the exchange rate down there? Does 500 gold mean something different to you people than it does up here? Did you fucking switch to the metric system or some shit? WTF?!

And let’s not even get STARTED on the reagents! I’m going over this list, and there is LITERALLY nothing on here that I can’t walk over to the Valley of Wisdom and buy for pocket change. DON’T BELIEVE ME, COME ON BY. DISCOUNT ANKHS ON ME.

Actually.

Hang on.

It just occurred to me — if this invoice of yours even REMOTELY resembles the actual prices of reagents down there in Pandaria, and it’s not just Zhu’s-his-face gouging me with like an 8000% markup, this might be an opportunity to put a dent in the ol’ Shayari-induced cash flow problem. Because if I can buy this shit HERE for like 20 silver a pop, then bring it on down to Pandaria and sell it to you pandas for a hundred times that, and STILL be way below Scarf Boy’s asking price… Hmm…

Spirits help me, I’m starting to think like a goblin. CONGRATULATIONS, UNIVERSE, YOU WIN AGAIN.

Meanwhile… you mean to say, you were going about your business, and a fucking SQUID came swimming over just to try to dip into your keg totems? What kind of a fucking dumbass squid is that? Is it some kind of Dontrag squid? Because that seems like something he would do. Or Utvoch. Whichever one of them it is. Maybe the other one was the eel or something. Eelvoch, maybe. Ellvoch and Dontrag-the-Squid. Why the fuck not. Seems to match up brainpower-wise.

 

Hey, Garry.

I’m Valinora. Don’t ask any questions. I’m here for one thing and one thing only; EPIC VERSE.

I had a scroll through the mailbags and I saw a little introduction suggested by one of your readers. Hope you don’t mind if I do the same. By the way, you OWNED Varian. I dare you to go up against Thrall next time. Hate that guy. He didn’t steal anybody’s bacon, he stole all their pigs, forced them to make the bacon and then claimed to have made it himself. Ugh.

Anyway. A topic that I’m sure you’ll have no hesitation with, given your…knowledge of felweed.

“By now, he had one joint too many,”

Go!

–Valinora “Lightshorn”, Stormwind City.

Oh, hey, check it — somebody who gets right to the point. It’s like you’re the anti-Sarlin or something. First off, though:

notgarry2

Now granted, you didn’t exactly endear yourself to me with the Garry thing (and I mean, seriously, people, isn’t it getting old at this point? Even the basic campfire joke fizzled out faster than this) (Get it? Campfire? Fizzled out? BA DUM BUM), and plus there’s the small matter that you appear to be HUMAN. On the other hand, you DID get to the point of your letter before wiping out enough trees to render hundreds of poor disadvantaged night elf strippers glitterless, and then you topped that off by having the good sense to know a good ol’ EPIC VERSE thrashing of King Vajayjay when you see it. Additional kudos for getting a good jab in at Thrall, because man oh man has HE been on a one-way trip to Insufferable City. Dude might as well take his vainglorious ass over to the vaingloryhole and fucking blow himself there, at the rate he’s going.

Anyway, you got to the point, you delivered a good burn on EACH side of the faction divide, and what the hell, I’m not one to pass up a chance to lay down a little EPIC VERSE. So here we go. YOU ASK, GARROSH DELIVERS.

By now, he had one joint too many.
(Point of fact, he’d gone over by twenty.)
Came down with giggle fits,
Would have lost all his wits,
If to start with he’d even had any.

In his stupor he thought he’d go swimming,
With a head that with felweed was brimming;
So he and his buddy —
Whose mind, too, was muddy —
Jumped in while their dimwits were dimming.

So in their felweed-fueled delusion,
They swam off to sea in seclusion;
They went round and round,
And when they were found,
They managed to cause more confusion:

I don’t know how much felweed they did,
But one moron thought he was a squid,
While his buddy, with zeal,
Thought that he was an eel,
While around in the waters they slid.

So when they encountered bystanders,
They thought that they’d caught a gander
Of a beer-party kegger,
So up like a beggar,
The stupid squid chose to meander.

He made a big mess seeking brew,
Now I’m stuck with the bill for those two.
I’m pissed off, but whatever —
You know you can’t ever
Spell “dumbass” without D and U.

You asked for some rhymes, so I wrote ’em,
About morons who smashed up some totems.
They’re going to need hearses —
At least some good nurses,
’Cause they’re gonna get stabbed in their scrotums.

EPIC VERSE!

 

Okay, that’s going to do it for this time. As always, keep those letters coming!

 

[Next mailbag December 7! E-mail the Warchief using the link at the top of the right sidebar, or use the handy form below:]

 

Keep your friends close

orgrimmar21

So I guess Spazzle already filled you guys in on the Gurtash thing. No new developments on that front so far. The healers say that the kid’s either going to come around on his own, or not come around at all, which personally I think is a big huge CYA measure on their part, but they’re the healers and I’m not so I guess I might as well give it a few more days before I start smacking people around.

In other news, I’m making some changes to Shayari’s mage training plan. She’s still going to be studying with Faranell over in the Undercity, but I decided that there wasn’t much need for her to LIVE over there permanently. For one, she IS a mage, so she can just teleport over where when she has lessons, and besides, based on recent experience…I mean…good fucking luck getting her to STAY there if she’s gotten it into her head that she doesn’t want to. It’s just easier this way.

So in related news, when I got in touch with Faranell about the revised plan for Shay, he decided it was a good time to hit me up with the estimate for whatever the hell he needs to have done to his jaw after Shay clocked him, or whatever the fuck happened. Then, as if all of this hadn’t put me in a great enough mood already, it just so happened that THAT’s the moment when the bill for that shopping trip Liadrin took Shay on came in, and HOLY FUCKING SHIT ARE YOU KIDDING ME. That hyacinth macaw of hers better fucking well shit GOLD, is all I’m saying. Are kids ALWAYS this expensive?! Fucking hell, this is going to clear out the bank in no time flat at this rate. Nice job, doeling. Yeesh.

Anyhow. In OTHER other news, now that Mokvar’s mostly accounted for himself, it’s time he got back on the job and made himself useful. Which as you can imagine made everyone in the war room pleased as punch. And by “punch” I mean “panda punching Varian in the fucking face”…

fyv

Because some shit just never gets old. Heh. Hehehehe…

Anyway. Yeah. Smiles all around for Mokvar’s return to Grommash Hold.

 

MALKOROK: Sir! With all due respect, you can’t be serious!

EITRIGG: You’re lifting the banishment?!

MALKOROK: You can’t possibly intend to allow this…this treasonous dog back into your council chamber!

MOKVAR: Uh, yeah, nice to see you guys, too.

EITRIGG: Garrosh, I don’t understand. After everything that happened with Mokvar, after his conspiring with Magatha, for spirits’ sake—

GARROSH: Look, I understand why you banished him while I was away, Eitrigg. I’m not lifting it now because it was the wrong call at the time. If I’d been here, I probably would have done the same thing myself.

EITRIGG: Then why, Garrosh?

MALKOROK: I’m not usually inclined to agree with the old man, Warchief, but once he’s right. Why would you restore this—

GARROSH: BECAUSE, you two, Mokvar’s managed to account for himself to my satisfaction, and—

MALKOROK: Sir, whatever lies this traitor has told you—

GARROSH: Are MINE to judge, Malkorok, not yours. I believe he’s telling me the truth.

Garrosh looks over at Mokvar, then back to Malkorok.

Enough of it, at least. Besides…I have good reason to believe that Mokvar has access to…certain resources that could be of great tactical benefit to us.

EITRIGG: Warchief…?

MALKOROK: I find it hard to believe he possesses anything that our forces—

GARROSH: You remember the Divine Bell, Malk? What a smashing success that whole grand finale was? Suffice to say, during his reintroduction to the warlock world, Mokvar found something that could have swung that whole fiasco in our favor.

Eitrigg slumps back in his chair uncomfortably. While Malkorok and Garrosh continue, Taktani bounces into the room, with Shayari following behind.

MALKOROK: Assuming he’s not making up the entire st—

GARROSH: <pointing back at his throne> DO YOU WANT TO SIT IN THIS CHAIR?

TAKTANI: <hopping onto the throne happily> Oooh, I do, Mr. Warchief! Yay! It looks comfy!

Garrosh looks back at Taktani, rubs his forehead, then turns back to Malkorok (who suddenly looks much more exhausted than he did just a moment ago).

GARROSH: Look, Malk. I’ve made my decision. And if you don’t think it’s the right one, then guess what? I’ve still made my decision, and I don’t want to hear any more about it. Mokvar’s banishment is lifted, and I’m reinstating him to scribe duties.

TAKTANI: <sprawling back on the throne and waving one paw around> I’m the Warchief-chief! Yay! Lemon squares or death! Hee hee!

GARROSH: Besides, would you really rather have HER staying on indefinitely?

MALKOROK: You…may have a point, sir.

TAKTANI: Aww don’t be grumpy, Mr. Malky! No grumpies allowed! <waving her paw around more> Off with his head! Tee hee!

GARROSH: TAK.

TAKTANI: Ooh! Okay! Right, Mr. Warchief, sir!

Taktani hops off the throne and bounces over to the council table.

GARROSH: Mokvar, this is Taktani. She’s been filling in for you while you’ve been away. Well, splitting time with… Uh, anyway, she’s been filling in as a scribe.

TAKTANI: <bouncing up onto the council table and leaning in close to Mokvar> Hiiiiii Mr. Mokvar! It’s nice to meet you!

GARROSH: She used to write in to the blog before you went AWOL, remember?

TAKTANI: I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Mok-Mok! I’m sure the nice things are true!

MOKVAR: I— wait, you mean she’s real?

MALKOROK: Unfortunately.

TAKTANI: You’re so grumpy, Mr. Malky! I bet you just need a big hug!

MALKOROK: Don’t you dare even think of—

TAKTANI: Again!

MALKOROK: Warchief!

GARROSH: Rein it in, Tak.

MOKVAR: Okay, you know, she’s a little hyper for my tastes, but I think she’s starting to grow on me all the same.

SHAYARI: Chuckles really does bring out the best in people, doesn’t he?

GARROSH: Huh— oh, hey, Shay.

SHAYARI: Hey. <scanning the table> Hey, Beardy. Chuckles. Other Old Guy I Don’t Know.

GARROSH: Oh, yeah, you never met Eitrigg, did you?

SHAYARI: I think you mentioned him to me. But yeah.

GARROSH: He’s Ariok’s old man, if that helps any.

SHAYARI: Ohh, okay. So you’re kind of Grayscale Senior. I guess that makes you…what, sepia, sort of?

EITRIGG: …Warchief?

GARROSH: <sighs> Yeah, okay. So. Eitrigg, this is Shayari. She’s…my daughter.

Eitrigg stares blankly for a full minute.

TAKTANI: Mr. Warchief? Is Mr. Eatery okay?

GARROSH: Eitrigg?

EITRIGG: <blinks> I… I’m sorry, Garrosh. I think my brain might have just stroked off there for a moment. Did you just say…?

GARROSH: She’s my daughter. Yeah.

MALKOROK: Supposedly.

SHAYARI: I know, Chuckles, I’m too good for a lot of people to believe.

EITRIGG: <gesturing bewilderedly toward Shayari> But… but Warchief… how…?

GARROSH: Dude, do I really have to work it out for you?

SHAYARI: #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh, am I right?

EITRIGG: I…oh…well… <gathers himself, turns to Shayari> It’s a pleasure, Miss Shayari.

SHAYARI: Thanks, Grampa Sepia. Oh, and if your boy mentions anything about livestock, I don’t know anything about it.

MALKOROK: Warchief, is there a reason why your…offspring is barging in on our meeting?

TAKTANI: Aw, Mr. Malky, why can’t you be friendly? You should smile more!

MALKOROK: That’s enough from you, druid!

MOKVAR: Yeah. I definitely think I’m starting to like her.

SHAYARI: Oh, don’t sweat it, Tak. Guy Smiley here’s just pissy ’cause I’m a walking, talking reminder that Pops has gotten laid more recently than him.

TAKTANI: Huh?

MALKOROK: Draenei, I—

GARROSH: Malk, zip it.

MOKVAR: And I know I’m starting to like her.

GARROSH: Come to think of it, though, what ARE you doing here, Shay?

SHAYARI: I’m just checking to see how long Tak’s going to be busy with the meeting.

GARROSH: Uh, not long. It’s going to be a pretty short one today. Why?

SHAYARI: Nothing huge. When she’s done, I was going to port us up to Silvermoon to do some shopping. I can kill a little time, though. I’ll just be over at Kodohide’s, ’kay, Tak? I can check out the leather jackets while you do your thing.

TAKTANI: Okay! I’ll come find you!

GARROSH: Hang on – SHOPPING? We just moved like five huge cases of yours back from the Undercity. Don’t you have ENOUGH stuff?

SHAYARI: <walking toward the door> That’s cute, Pops. “Enough stuff.” You’re adorable. Later, Tak! Oh, and Chuckles?

Malkorok looks up.

Don’t forget: being a walking bag of hyena urine is something most people couldn’t carry off, but you, sir…are no exception. Toodles!

Shayari exits.

GARROSH: <rubbing his forehead> I can already tell I’m going to have to start making withdrawals from the bank, aren’t I…

MOKVAR: You know what? I’m going to skip right past “like” and say I’m starting to love her.

EITRIGG: She does have a certain infectious charm.

GARROSH: Okay, so…

TAKTANI: Should I start scribing now, Mr. Warchief?

GARROSH: Ah. Well, no, Tak. See, you were filling in for Mokvar, and he’s back now, so he’s going to be taking over again.

TAKTANI: Oh…

Taktani looks back and forth between Garrosh and Mokvar.

You don’t want me to be your scribe anymore?

Taktani makes big, sad kitty eyes.

Did I do bad?

GARROSH: Oh geez.

MALKOROK: <rubbing his forehead> Merciful spirits….

GARROSH: Ugh… Look, Tak, you—

MOKVAR: Garrosh?

GARROSH: Hmm?

MOKVAR: You know, while I get reacclimated, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to let her stay on for a little while, just to make sure I don’t miss anything in my notes.

Taktani’s face lights up, and she turns to Garrosh hopefully.

GARROSH: Oh for… Yeah. Fine. Whatever. You’re already here, so you might as well stick around for today anyway.

TAKTANI: YAY!!

MALKOROK: <glaring at Mokvar> Scribe, what in hellfire are you doing?

Taktani hops gleefully into a chair next to Malkorok. Mokvar tilts his head to one side, watching her, then smirks at Malkorok.

GARROSH: Okay…so, getting down to actual business, finally.

TAKTANI: Yay!

GARROSH: TAK.

TAKTANI: Oops! Sorry, Mr. Warchief sir!

Taktani makes an exaggerated zipping movement in front of her mouth, then stifles a giggle.

GARROSH: So. Moving on.

MALKOROK: Warchief, with your approval, I’d like to add a few additional patrols around the read gate.

GARROSH: Is there a problem?

MALKOROK: Just a precaution. I’ve gotten reports of some minor oddities around the Valley of Honor. I’d just like to make sure there isn’t anything to be concerned about.

GARROSH: Fine. Do what you need to do.

MALKOROK: Yes, sir.

GARROSH: Now for more important business. Mokvar, what’s our next step on your sha project?

EITRIGG: Garrosh…

MOKVAR: I’ll need to see some of these sha in person. This isn’t going to be exactly the same as dominating demons, so I’ll need to start small and work out the bugs.

GARROSH: Fine. I’ll be heading back to Pandaria in a couple weeks. You’ll come with me, and we’ll take it from there.

EITRIGG: Garrosh, I don’t like the sound of dabbling further with these sha—

GARROSH: Your objections are noted and inconsequential.

MOKVAR: That should work out. I have a few things I wanted to check on in Pandaria anyway.

GARROSH: In the meantime, I want you to check in with a few people as well, on a couple different fronts.

MOKVAR: What’s that?

GARROSH: For one, I want you to go see Overseer Elaglo. He and Xorenth are working on a few things down in Ragefire Chasm that I think you might be able to help with.

MOKVAR: Okay. What are they working on?

GARROSH: They’ll fill you in when you get down there. And while you’re down that way, I want you to touch base with Neeru Fireblade in the Cleft of Shadow.

MOKVAR: Uh… you want me to… why?

GARROSH: Because given what went down with him before you starting going all off-hinge, I think he’d be pretty damn interested in the fact that you’ve got yourself a new toy.

MOKVAR: Well, yeah, I’m sure he would, but I was figuring I’d probably be better off keeping CLEAR of him about that. Why even let him know I have the—

GARROSH: Because knowing will get his curiosity up. And you know what curiosity did to the cat.

Garrosh looks to a suddenly nervous-looking Taktani.

Not you, Tak.

Taktani lets out a relieved sigh while Garrosh turns back to Mokvar.

I doubt that he’s going to want to trust you, considering everything that’s gone on. But I’m betting curiosity about what you’ve been up to, and your shiny new doodad in particular, is going to be too much for him to resist. So I want you to dangle it in front of him, and see if you can get in good with him.

MOKVAR: <nodding slowly> And then I report back to you.

GARROSH: And then you report back to me. We know Neeru’s up to something, but so far he’s been careful. But YOU…well, what you bring to the table might mean just enough for his demonic interests to bring him out. I know we can’t trust him, so I want someone keeping him close.

MOKVAR: Got it. I’ll do what I can. When should I head over?

GARROSH: No time like the present. You might as well head over. I already told Elaglo and Xorenth you’d be by sometime today.

MOKVAR: Okay, chief. I’ll get the records written up and posted for you later today.

GARROSH: Yeah, that’s fine.

Mokvar gathers up his documents and walks toward the door.

<talking over one shoulder without turning around> And Mokvar.

Mokvar stops in the doorway and looks back.

It’s good to have you back.

 

Mokvar hasn’t gotten back from the Cleft of Shadow yet, but when he does, hopefully there’ll be some good news. In the meantime, I’m going to talk to Spazzle about putting some filters on the blog. Some posts, at least. It’s good having these records here, but we’re going to want to start limiting who can see certain information. You guys are all cool, don’t worry. But some of this stuff…yeah, we’re going to need to be a little more careful. Especially if things start lining up like I think.

More soon.

 

ADDENDUM FROM TAKTANI’S NOTES:

(Mr. Mokvar left.)

MALKOROK – Warchief, I still object to you trusting that scribe after his treasonous conduct. Especially with these kinds of sensitive matters.

GARROSH – Malk, do you not listen to any fucking thing that I say?

MALKOROK – Warchief?

GARROSH – Did you miss what I told him about keeping someone who can’t be trusted close, so we can keep an eye on him?

MALKOROK – No, sir, I heard you, but—

GARROSH – Did you think I was only talking about Fireblade?

(Malkorok became still a moment, thinking, then gave a slow nod.)

MALKOROK – Yes, sir. I think I understand. I…wouldn’t have thought of that, sir.

GARROSH(nodding back) That’s why I’m in charge.

 

The Liebster Award comes to Orgrimmar

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So this one was a surprise. Here I was, going through my volumes and volumes of fan mail LIKE I GET ON A DAILY BASIS, and lo and behold, I get a message from someone nominating me for an award. The someone in question was Myriade, writer of Myriadoscope, and the award in question was something called the Liebster Award, which I didn’t really know anything about at the time but which I could already say with confidence that I DAMN WELL FUCKING DESERVED.

So I did a little looking around to see what the deal was with this award, and what I would need to do to beat out the other nominees to win it, like if there was honorable combat involved because holy crap you know I would be all over that shit, but, come to find out, it doesn’t work that way. There’s no final WINNER, just a chain of nominees naming other nominees to draw people’s attention to other blogs. Which is kind of cool, as far as spreading the word about good reads, even if it IS a little hippie for my tastes what with the “we’re all winners!” vibe, which, come on.

Anyway. Here’s the quasi-official description of the award, which everybody seems to be quoting, because it’s the hip thing to do these days:

Well, it is only an AWESOME award given to up and coming bloggers. Given by other up and coming bloggers. It’s a cool way to find other blogs and feel like you are getting into the blogging stratosphere. It is simple, you get nominated by someone else, mention their page and a link to their blog in your Liebster Award Post, answer the 11 questions they give you, then tag 11 other nominees and give them a new set of 11 questions to answer.

So, as you can see, receiving the nomination means I have some work to do now. FUCKING AWESOME IDEA FOR AN AWARD, FOLKS, HONOR PEOPLE BY STICKING THEM WITH FUCKING HOMEWORK. Anyway. Here are the 11 questions from Myriade:

1.  Favourite race/class in WoW and why?

Quick note on the lingo here: Those of you who aren’t as internet-savvy as yours truly might be a little thrown off by that “WoW” acronym. Apparently it’s a new thing in online circles to use that as an abbreviation for “Whole of World,” as in, fucking everywhere. Which, granted, is kind of like how some people will literally say “LOL” now rather than just laughing, which I’ve never really gotten on board with myself, because fuck those assholes. Anyway.

As for the actual question, I mean, come on, you even need to ask this? Orc, because what the fuck else would I want to be, and warrior.

2.  Achievement/Title you’re proudest of?

Obviously, the easy answer here is the title of Warchief. Hard to top that one. Still, I could probably make a case for Chieftain of the Warsong Clan, since that one came from me pulling my emo head out of my ass to assume my place as leader of our clan and Grom’s successor.

But, nah, I’m still going to go with Warchief.

Although, since I’m probably going to be heading down to Blackrock Mountain soon, I may have to see about picking up [Leeeeeeeeeeeeeroy!] while I’m in the neighborhood.

3.  What’s in your bags (any character, or all of them)?

Huh. I’m not sure if this is asking about real life, or my Earth Online characters. I mean, for myself in reality, I don’t really walk around with a whole lot of stuff on me. (Such as, you know, a shirt.) I try not to weigh myself down more than I have to, seeing as I need to be ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice, and really, keeping Mannoroth’s tusks balanced on my shoulders can be a tough enough job on its own, without lugging extra crap around with me.

As for my EO toons, hoo boy, they have flat-out TOO MUCH stuff in their bags. Just tons of random crap, receipts from vendors, little odds and ends that they’ve picked up but aren’t really useful for anything but I still haven’t ever gotten around to tossing. And by the way, I just have to ask, who the fuck is the psychopath over at Genesis Entertainment who designed the bag system in Earth Online? Dude, you can’t carry fucking ANYTHING with you! You pick up like six or seven things, and your bags are full. Have these game designers never left their houses or something, so they don’t even know about stacks of 20?!

4.  Favourite expansion/instance/boss fight?

Huh. Another Earth Online question. Okay. Well, there’s still plenty of content I’ve never gotten around to, to be honest, but I’m pretty fond of the BlizzCon raid. It’s always kind of a hoot seeing which random contestant spawns you get in the cosplay gauntlet leading up to the Joker Jay <Host with the Mohr– er, Most> boss. But I think my favorite encounter is the Lore Panel council fight — you know, the one with the lead quest design guy, and the historian adds, and most of all the council leader guy, Chris what’s-his-face, the dude with the beard who kinda sounds like Varian. I LOVE getting to run up and smack that guy in the face. Especially if it’s one of those pulls where he randomly mind controls me for a minute and makes to do some shit that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.

5.  Pet peeve in WoW?

Wait, you want me to narrow this down to one? I don’t know about that. But here’s a few, off the top of my head:

Humans.

Gnomes. OMFG gnomes.

Whoever it is who keeps using the last of the toilet paper in the Grommash Hold outhouse and not putting out a new roll. (Your Warchief does NOT like having to do the Waddle of Shame over to the storage shed.)

Dontrag.

Utvoch.

“There”/“their”/“they’re”. Because FUCK YOU, internet:

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Varian, especially the way he keeps breathing.

Being corrected on which one is Dontrag and which one is Utvoch, as if anybody really gives a shit.

6.  What inspired your blog?

I think I mentioned this way back in my first post. It all got started when Eitrigg recommended I take up blogging. He said I might find it a helpful outlet, to talk about what’s on my mind, keep a running record of my experiences, all that sort of thing. I think he figured it would give me a chance to reflect more, and think about situations before acting. Or some lazy old man shit like that. Anyway, that’s how it got started, and it’s just been a gravy train of awesome since then. AREN’T YOU LUCKY.

7.  Favourite blog-related moment?

Umm… Well, considering I detail almost everything that happens to me here, pretty much any moment from the last couple of years would be a blog-related moment, right? Gotta say, that one mailbag where Windblossom wrote in about clocking Varian still gives me all kinds of happy. Memory lane:

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I’m sure there others. I might point out others as I think of them.

8.  One thing you can’t live without?

Okay, okay, go ahead and make your joke about lemon squares.

Real answer? Sappy as it sounds, Gorehowl. Not even for what an awesome weapon it is, either. Having it with me is like a constant, living (but not) reminder of where I’ve come from, of the legacy of my father and the resilience of the Horde, of everything our people have endured and overcome. Having it with me is like a validation of our kind. Like a little part of Grom is still here, watching what he enabled us to become.

9.  Place you’d most like to visit?

Hmm. You know, I’ve gotten around a whole lot the last few years, between the Northrend campaign, and all my inspection visits around Azeroth, and now all our work in Pandaria… I’m not sure if there’s really anywhere I haven’t gotten to see at this point, other than, like, other planets and shit. Or, say, getting to see places I know, like back home on Draenor, back before things got all fucked up. But that would be changing WHERE I’d most like to visit to WHEN I’d most like to visit, which is cheating, for one thing, and also, FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

10.  Favourite fictional character?

At the risk of being repetitive, this guy:

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I mean, can you imagine if someone like that actually existed?

11.  Soundtrack to your life?

Well, most days, when things are going fairly well, it’s pretty much this:

But there’s also this:

And this:

(Also, in that one, note the Mortimer cameo at 3:24!)

And, let’s face it, given the clowns I usually have surrounding me, some days I feel like it might as well be this:

And last but not least, if I’m honest, when I’m in one of my more puckish moods, this:

Also, the kazzoo?  That’s totally me.

 

So, next up. This is the part where I’m supposed to link 11 more blogs, and give those bloggers 11 questions of their own to answer. One problem, though — I was going back through some blogs to tag, and while there are a few that still haven’t gotten a nomination already, for every one I found that no one had gotten to, there were like 10 would-be nominees that were already off the table. So, you know, if you do the math there, that means that in order to pull together my 11, I would have to rifle through something like 110 blogs, and, I mean…I’m just way too lazy for that shit.  I mean really.

SO. Here’s where I cheat a little and change things up, so I can still do some tagging and point some attention to some worthy bloggers, while also indulging my laziness. STAND BACK, BITCHES, because your Warchief is about to flip the script like Lor’themar flips benches.

SO, here’s the deal. I’m still going to toss out 11 questions to be answered, but instead of scraping together a blog list to tag, I am tagging…YOU. That’s right, you — if you’re reading this post, consider yourself tagged, so you scroll your ass right down to the comments and post a reply with your 11 answers. NO DUCKING OUT ON THIS COMMAND FROM YOUR WARCHIEF, PEOPLE. Especially if you’re one of my regular readers and commenters — I know you’re out there, and I know who you are, and most importantly I KNOW WHERE MANY OF YOU LIVE.

And now, the questions. READ ’EM AND WEEP.

  1. Do you write a blog? Link it here if so!
  2. What was the first Azerothian blog you ever read? Was there an early memorable post that hooked you?
  3. Recommended reading, part one! Link and endorse three bloggers that you’d encourage your fellow readers and minions should check out.
  4. Recommended reading, part two — link one single post, from wherever, that makes you think “OMG, people HAVE to read this.”
  5. How long have you been reading the Command Board? What post or storyline was your jumping-on point?
  6. One more chance for shameless self-promotion: Are you on Twitter? Give yourself a non-Friday #FF here if so. Also feel free to recommend a few accounts worth following.
  7. What class do you play on Earth Online? (Don’t try to deny that you play. I know my readers.)
  8. What real-life ability to do you wish your Earth Online character could use?
  9. Here, I’ll throw a bone to Utvoch. The age-old hoof question: Fem-taur or draenei girls?
  10. Whose head would you rather have on a pike, Varian’s or Magatha’s?
  11. If the world were going to end (or change substantially) in, say, oh, six months or so, what would be your bucket list of things you’d want to get done first?

There, you have your assignment. Get to it!  YOUR WARCHIEF HAS SPOKEN.

 

Strange bedfellows

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So I’m going to spare Gurtash having to draw like ten pages of action shots and bottom-line this for you: it took a little doing, but Varian and I were able to beat down that sha that sprung up out of where-the-fuck. Which shouldn’t come as much of a surprise – I mean, really, anyone who thought I would be writing this to inform you we’d been fucking KILLED, take a step forward. Then take another few steps toward the nearest steep ledge and just fucking kill yourself, because seriously, too stupid to live.

Anyway, once the sha was out of the way, we got back to the much more important matter of beating the shit out of each other. Check it out, though – we weren’t even five minutes into round two when ANOTHER sha popped up out of nowhere and had something to say. So we had to drop everything again and take care of the sha. Fucking rude, if you ask me.

Anyway, we polished off this one and got back to business. For a few minutes, anyway, until – can you believe this shit? – ANOTHER sha showed up. At which point it was way past rude getting to be just plain annoying.

Now, if it depended solely on pinhead Varian, we probably would have been going round and round like that for-fucking-EVER, but because your Warchief IS indeed the sharpest tool in the shed, after this pattern repeated itself another, like, eight or nine times, I realized that it was our fighting that was causing the sha to keep spawning. Feeding off of our anger and hate and…well, really, let’s just call it the whole damn sha cocktail.

So, on the up side: Now we knew how to keep the damn sha from rolling up on us over and over.

On the down side: I had to put a (temporary) stop to adding to the human’s scar collection.

Seriously, do you know how fucking DISTASTEFUL it is to be stuck in a room with Varian and not be able to punch him in the face? (Note to Genn Greymane: How the fuck do you DO it, man?)

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Seriously. How, Genn, how?

Anyway, that went on for a little while. At least the trainees weren’t within earshot most of the time, so I could give Varian an earful. Otherwise I’m liable to GET an earful from Orphan Matron Battlewail whenever I get back to Orgrimmar, what with the giant bone she has to pick with me about swearing so much around the kids. Because, yeah, in situations like these, watching my language should TOTALLY be one of my priorities, right?

Anyhow. Whatever. After fuck only knows HOW long with Varian playing the role of “annoying little bird sitting on Garrosh’s head and pecking away verbally,” I finally managed to get him talking enough to find out how he ended up down there – after the battle at the temple, word got back to him that his soldiers had chased some orc trainees into the wilds, and he went out to join in the search. Something about making sure his people didn’t get “overzealous,” whatever the fuck that means. Anyway, while he was scoping out the area he managed to fall down one of those cracks in the ground, same as I did. Idiot. So here he was.

I’m not sure how long we were stuck there basking in the glow of each other’s delightful company, but eventually Giska came running in with a scouting report. Apparently there were noises coming our way, and so she snuck off to check on it all stealthy-monk style, and, come to find out, there was a handful of humans heading our way. Because hey, why not, right? Was there anybody NOT in these caves at this point? Who knew the fucking saurok caves were party central around these parts? Hey, maybe fucking Koltira Deathweaver was down here too – mystery solved at last!

So, fast forward to the humans arriving, the initial “Holy shit, it’s Garrosh!” moment (RECOGNIZE, BITCHES), and the clusterfuckery of getting them to cool it before we got an in-person reminder of what’s black and white and tendrilly all over. From that point, the humans huddled off to themselves, but I managed to listen in on bits and pieces.

I guess these newest arrivals had found the main entrance to these caves, up in the heart of Saurok Town, and had gone in searching for King Chin. From what I can gather, they had to make their way through a shitload of saurok activity. Seems over the last couple hours, the saurok had been spooked by the appearance of a bunch of creepy black monsters (GEE I WONDER WHERE THOSE COULD HAVE COME FROM), and now it looked like they were getting what passes for shaman in lizard-land to do some kind of rituals to close off these caves altogether with earthquakes and cave-ins and shit. So that spurred the humans to pick up the pace looking for Varian, and look at that, they found him safe and sound, because things always work out nicely that way so long as your name isn’t fucking ME.

Luckily, the humans had a mage with them. I say “luckily” there, because for some reason I thought, hey, cool, mage portal, we can all just pop the fuck out of here, only I didn’t realize that APPARENTLY mages can rig their portals so they can only be used by the people they WANT to use them, because I guess mages are FUCKERS like that. So I guess the “luckily” was, in fact, only “luckily” for them, as opposed to a big juicy serving of UP YOURS for me and the kids.

And of course, class act that he is, Varian couldn’t resist sticking it to me on his way out the door. Portal. Whatever.

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Clobberin’ time

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[OOC Preliminaries: Okay, so yes, I know, I’ve been criminally slow in updating the blog. I’ve been caught in an all-too-busy real life these last few months, and even when I have had some free time after work, I often haven’t had the mental energy to work on anything that required much focus. And I didn’t want to just toss stuff on here that was half-assed. Whole-assed only for my readers! (That sounded better in my head.) Anyway, thank you for your patience. I don’t want to make any sweeping promises that I won’t end up keeping, but I should be able to get back to more of a normal schedule from here on.]

[Also: Don’t think I’ve forgotten about my idea to do a blog-friends Siege of Orgrimmar group! More on that very shortly!]

[Also also: DAMMIT, Blizzard, I already DID that idea. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.]

 

krasarang2

So, getting back to the long-overdue story of what the hell happened in those caves. More specifically, what the hell happened after I turned that corner and found Varian giving me the OH HAI GAIS face.

How about THAT, by the way, huh?

So, yeah, as you might imagine, Varian and I were pretty quick to recognize this as the opportunity it was for the two of us to sit down and hash out our differences like adults.

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Cheat Sheet

quillandpaper

As promised in my last post, here’s an overview of the state of the blog. I realize that after two years of accumulated in-jokes and storylines, the Command Board may be a bit disorienting to a newcomer (or, for that matter, to a long-time reader who blinked at the wrong time), so I’ve tried to break this down into a semi-sorta-kinda FAQ. Most of this will be familiar to long-time readers (though I’ve also included a few behind-the-scenes notes that some of you might find interesting), but I hope it’ll explain a few things for new arrivals.

 

I hate Garrosh! Why does Garrosh seem so sympathetic in this blog? Are you one of those Garrosh apologists/fanboys?

Comically enough, I originally started the blog because I really didn’t like Garrosh either, and saw the blog as a way to have a few chuckles mocking him. It wasn’t long, though, before I decided that I would get sick of the outright-mockery approach pretty quickly, so I started branching out. Part of the result was letting blog-Garrosh become (I hope) a bit more multifaceted, while still remaining true to his temperamental self. Including the LOLs.

Ultimately, I don’t set out to justify anything Garrosh does, just to present it in a way that makes sense in light of the character, and if that pushes a black-and-white scenario into some shade of gray, well, that makes for a more interesting story anyway. And, keep in mind, the story here is being told, generally, from Garrosh’s point of view, so I don’t know how that perspective wouldn’t be sympathetic. Everyone is the hero of their own story, after all, and nobody thinks they’re a bad person.

 

Why isn’t there anything here about the siege of Orgrimmar?

What are you talking about? There was a post titled “The siege of Orgrimmar” a good solid year ago – if anything, shouldn’t you be asking why Blizzard is coming so late to the party? (By the way, I didn’t realize until just now that patch 5.4 was released almost exactly on the one-year anniversary of the “Siege or Orgrimmar” post. How awesomely freaky is that?)

Anyway, to give a real answer: Time-wise, the blog has not yet reached the events of patch 5.4. The storyline is currently playing out the midst of 5.2; Lor’themar Theron and Jaina Proudmoore have recently set up shop on the Isle of Thunder, while Vol’jin is still recovering from his injuries at Shado-Pan Monastery.

This time lag between the game and the blog, by the way, is partly by design. I’d always intended the blog to run a bit behind the game; coming into MoP, I realized that if I tried to follow in-game events too closely, I wouldn’t have time to adapt my own ideas to fit Blizzard’s story. There have already been a few instances in which Blizzard’s story has taken a turn that’s forced me to change gears in a way that would have been disastrous if I didn’t have a month or two of lead time. Of course, I’m clearly more than a month or two behind – that’s been a result of various real-life circumstances slowing down my output over the last few months. I’m working on it!

 

So the blog basically retells in-game events, from Garrosh’s point of view?

Yes and no. The blog operates within Blizzard’s continuity (with the aforementioned time delay), but also weaves additional storylines in and around the canonical Blizzard plots. Anything that happens or is stated explicitly in-game is canon, obviously, and the blog is bound by it.* That said, I sometimes like to put other stories around Blizzard’s, to give them context that might change the way those events are perceived. (This was a large part of my motivation for the Timequake story leading into Theramore, or, more recently, the blog events surrounding the Divine Bell / Domination Offensive storyline.)

Also, while the point of view is mostly Garrosh’s, there are some posts that present events from other perspectives. Most notable are the “guest” posts by Spazzle (Garrosh’s tech goblin), which help fill in story details that Garrosh wouldn’t necessarily be privy to. You can always identify a post written by someone other than Garrosh by the color of the text – Spazzle’s posts, for instance, are always written in green text, and almost always include the phrase “Spazzle Speaks” in the title. Also, as a rule of thumb, when Spazzle et al post, Garrosh remains oblivious to anything that might be revealed; the conceit at work here is that Garrosh doesn’t really care what anyone else is writing, so he doesn’t bother reading it.

* The one instance that I’ve flat-out fudged in-game details is the way I’ve chosen to incorporate the events of “A Little Patience.” From the Alliance point of view, that scenario takes place almost immediately after Varian arrives in Pandaria; in the blog, I’ve pushed those events a bit later in the story. This was largely a matter of convenience: I knew that I wanted there to be a military operation in Krasarang in which Garrosh’s trainees went missing, and I realized fairly late in the going that “A Little Patience” lent itself to that story pretty readily. Hopefully those Alliance-side readers out there will be willing to turn a blind eye to my blatant and shameless revision. (Horde bias rears its ugly head again! GRR!)

 

Garrosh has trainees? When did that happen?

Right here! As part of the escalation of the war effort, the Kor’kron started a training program to prepare orc teenagers for eventual military service. When Garrosh learned that Gurtash – an orc boy from the Orgrimmar orphanage whom Garrosh had taken under his wing – had been conscripted, Garrosh volunteered to take Gurtash’s trainee group under his own supervision. (Side note: In my head-canon, Garrosh has a bit of a soft spot for the orphans, being as he is one himself.) The trainees, who have nicknamed themselves the Dead Peons Society (DPS for short) have accompanied Garrosh to Pandaria and joined him on a few adventures. Fairly recently, they went missing after the Horde loss in the “A Little Patience” scenario, and were eventually found by Garrosh, hiding away in an underground system of caves. That’s brought us up to the point where we are now, story-wise: Garrosh and the trainees underground, looking for a way out.

 

Is the entire supporting cast from within the game?

Mostly, but not entirely. I’ve invented a few characters for the blog – Spazzle being the highest-profile – but I’ve tried to keep it limited, and tried to restrict those characters to fairly peripheral positions in the lore. The one glaring exception was the storyline involving Garrosh’s mother, Lakkara, who isn’t mentioned anywhere in the actual lore. It just struck me as odd that there’s no record of who she was, or what happened to her, and besides, in a mythology packed to capacity with father/son relationships, I thought it was about time somebody’s mom got a little screen time.

Otherwise, when a character turns up who doesn’t exist in-game, that character was often inspired by a reader and/or based on someone’s game character. For instance, both Gurtash and Mortimer (Garrosh’s personal wyvern) became blog characters thanks to mailbag letters from Khizzara from Blog of the Treant; Khizzara’s own namesake has made a few appearances as Spazzle’s cousin; doodle-prone kitty druid Taktani became a full-fledged character (and boy, is she ever a character) after making several mailbag contributions; and many of the DPS trainees are modeled on the baby orc alts of friends.

In general, though, if you see a supporting character turn up whose name you don’t recognize, the smartest first guess is that he or she is based on a questgiver or other NPC somewhere in-game. (Wowpedia is your friend!) I deliberately picked a lot of relatively minor NPCs – people like Mokvar, Elder Cloudfall, and Dontrag and Utvoch – to use as supporting characters because I figured their relatively peripheral status gave me more latitude to work with them, give them backstories, etc. After all, what are the odds that Blizzard would actually do something with one of these people to contradict my own concoctions?

(Either way, if you’re not sure who someone is, I’ve also maintained a partial list of supporting players on the About the Blog page, including some of the more pertinent information about them.)

 

Speaking of which – in the SoO raid, Mokvar is a mini-boss! Isn’t he missing? How are you going to deal with that?

First… um, yeah, that whole “no way they’re gonna do something with this guy” really blew up in my face on this one, huh?

And second… So, everyone who thought I was going to lay out this big storyline for Mokvar, and make such a production out of his disappearance…and then have it turn out that he really is dead…step forward.

Didn’t think so.

For those of you unclear on Mokvar’s whole story, which has been unfolding gradually for quite a while, you can check here for a brief overview and links to the relevant posts. Very short version: After becoming the victim of a mysterious attack, Mokvar sets out to track down a powerful relic from his warlock days, with the aid of a human named Deliana (who was Mokvar’s Alliance equivalent in the old dungeon set quests); over the course of his quest, he starts to behave increasingly strangely, culminating in his eventual flight from arrest in Orgrimmar. His whereabouts are now unknown.

Stay tuned. You’ll see where this is going!

 

With Mokvar gone, how are you handling the transcripts?

Prelinimary: The blog contains several transcripts of conversations that Garrosh has engaged in. The premise from the outset has been that Mokvar is (or was) Garrosh’s personal scribe, and records all these conversations for posting. This explains, by the way, a number of occasions when Garrosh mentions summoning Mokvar to an event, or otherwise noting Mokvar’s presence, as a way of leading in to a transcript.

Since Mokvar is off the grid, Garrosh has passed transcription duties to two people: Gurtash, who records his transcripts in the form of comics; and Taktani, a friend of Dontrag and Utvoch and long-time mailbag contributor, who’s started to (and will continue to) write a few transcripts, laden with her own unassuming brand of commentary.

 

What are these guild chat logs that keep cropping up?

Garrosh and several of the supporting characters play an MMORPG called Earth Online – the basic premise being that, to these characters, Azeroth is reality, and our real world is actually the game world of the MMO. Garrosh started his own guild, called <Warchief>, and several familiar faces (including Spazzle, Sylvanas, Lor’themar, Faranell, Garona, and Dontrag and Utvoch) are members. Also worth noting is that Jaina Proudmoore is a member of the guild…although she doesn’t realize (yet?) who her guildmates are in “real life.”

The guild chat logs recreate some of the exchanges that the members of <Warchief> have within their game, usually including regular guild chat, officer chat, and, in some cases, whispers. I make no pretense about the fact that some aspects of these logs are based on my own guild-chat expeiences, especially officer chat. The transcripts are always presented from the point of view of whoever posted them – usually Garrosh, but occasionally Spazzle.

 

Where did this whole thing about lemon squares come from?

Garrosh loves lemon squares. Don’t you?

Real explanation: Very early in the blog, Edenvale of The Gamer’s Fridge posted a recipe for Garrosh Hellscream’s lemon squares, and pointed me to her post with a comment on the Command Board. Since then, it’s become a bit of a running gag – the recipe, according to Garrosh, was his greatmother’s secret family recipe, and he was most perturbed that this random night elf had apparently gotten ahold of it.

 

What does “FYV” mean?

An abbreviation of one of Garrosh’s favorite turns of phrase, of course: “Fuck you, Varian!” Among other things, Garrosh often finds a way to slip that phrase into his EPIC VERSE compositions.

 

Speaking of which, what’s this “EPIC VERSE”? Garrosh writes poetry?

You sound surprised. Garrosh is an orc of many interests. What, do you think he’s some kind of one-note caricature or something?

Okay, fine, game-Garrosh kind of is.

Honestly, I just got a kick out of the obvious dichotomy of Garrosh Hellscream, gruffest of the gruff, also writing poetry on the side. True to form, Garrosh doesn’t view his compositions as just any poetry, so he prefers to call them EPIC VERSE. In caps. Always. It’s sprinkled throughout the blog – almost always in purple text, to stress its epic-ness – and ranges from limericks, to parodies of other famous poems, to reader requests, to epic rap battles.

 

So, that’s as much as I can think to cover. Other gaps can probably be filled in through the Major Storylines page, but if there are questions that anyone still has, in terms of getting caught up or clarified, by all means toss them into a comment and I’ll make sure it’s answered. And so, on that note, I’ll sigh off with the promise – unconditional promise! – that before the week is out, you’ll have the continuation of the actual STORY part of the story! Which left off, as you might recall, right here:

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Because you asked for it…

seatofknowledge

Okay, kids, while it’s still National Poetry Month, and I’m still basking in the glow of my GLORIOUS EPIC VERSE VICTORY over Varian (FUCK YOU, VARIAN VOTERS), I figured I’d do a request for another matchup. Credit where it’s due, by the way, you guys really stepped up to the plate with your suggestions in the comments last time.  So, without any further ado…

*  *  *  *  *

EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

BRANN BRONZEBEARD

VS.

LOREWALKER CHO

BEGIN!

*  *  *  *  *

CHO:

Once upon a time, in a land across the sea,
An under-mountain kingdom was ruled by hammers three;
The youngest Bronzebeard brother wandered off, the world to see —
The great explorer? He looks like a little poser to me.

You travel, sure, around the world, but don’t know what you’re doing;
You chase down leads but hardly have a clue what you’re pursuing.
But I know, “Branbronzan,” and now I’ll be your undoing:
Both our peoples might love beer, but you won’t like what I’ve got brewing.

Now I’m sure you’ll try your rhyming and you’ll throw your sticks and stones,
But you’ll never change the fact you’re a junior Harrison Jones.
You ran around backpacking but you didn’t go to college;
So take some notes here, kid — welcome to my Seat of Knowledge.

BRANN:

I’m sorry, were ye talking? I think I zoned out,
From another long-ass story that nobody cares about.
When people listen to ye, they fall asleep and they drop;
They tune out long before they ever hear yer Aesop.

Ye got this right: I had no time to stay and rule a nation;
No politics for me, exploring was me inclination.
I roamed ’cross every continent and distant destination,
Unearthing Titan clues from Halls of Stone to Origination.

Now me rhymes are all unshackled and me flow’s unchecked,
So if ye want to battle, know ye’re gonna get wrecked.
They’ll be diggin’ up yer fragments when I finish my attack,
’Cause you’re fightin’ Brann now — nobody’s got yer back.

CHO:

You talk a good game, but your knowledge is a flop.
I preside in scholar’s heaven; you’re off working the gift shop.
You say your guild’s Explorer — you sure it’s not Lollipop?
I’ll call you Phase 3 Elegon — that’s how fast you’re gonna drop.

Into the Vaults I led a raiding team of nearly thirty;
I hung back smiling while I let them go get their hands dirty.
I studied mogu secrets while they fended off attackers;
You don’t discover anything unless it’s done ass-backwards.

You trumpet your achievements but I say it’s contradictory;
For all you do is bumble then Jar-Jar your way to victory.
I interpreted the warnings of the Emperor to heed.
Now the writing’s on the wall for you — but I don’t think you can read.

BRANN:

Don’t even try yer braggin’ ’bout yer strollin’ in the Vaults,
Twice now the world damn near blew up and it was all my fault.
I dug up Titan keepers and set loose Old God monstrosities:
There ain’t no trouble too big for my cat-like curiosity.

I dragged my hapless helpers through so many deadly places —
When I triggered that Tribunal, lad, ye shoulda seen their faces.
Oh, sure, they went complaining and they made a big production,
But I don’t think life’s worth livin’ if ye don’t risk world destruction.

Why, even now I’m on the trail of Titan secrets rare;
These tablets indicate a place, I just have to figure where.

CHO:

Wait, where’d you find those tablets?

BRANN:

                                                                 In the Vaults of Mogu’shan.

CHO:

You snuck in there behind us?

BRANN:

                                                      Have we met? Hi, my name’s Brann.

It seems a strange contraptions’s hidden somewhere in the Vale.
I’ll have to work it more, but rest assured I’m on the trail.

CHO:

Another Titan engine?

BRANN:

                                                  Or a prison. Maybe so.
Wait, have ye got Old Gods down here?

CHO:

                                                                Not as far as we know.

But let me see that, junior, let a Lorewalker conduct
A proper study of those texts; the meaning I’ll deduct.
I’ll be the one to find it!

BRANN:

                                                Yeah, grandpa, good luck.

CHO:

Better me; you’ll likely find a way to trip a self-destruct.

BRANN:

Ye know as well as I do: only thing worse than “unknown”
Is finding these devices…and then leaving them alone.

CHO:

’Tis true, the scholar’s impulse: though our helpers are perturbed;
Sometimes you simply must disturb what should not be disturbed.

BRANN:

A hidden button on the wall!  Its purpose — who knows what?
A Titan secret bigger than your furry panda gut.
I’ll bet it holds a secret!

CHO:

                                                  I’ll wager that it’s cursed!

BRANN:

I’m pressing that button!

CHO:

                                                     Not if I get there first!

[Brann and Cho run out in opposite directions.]

*  *  *  *  *

WHO WON?

WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!

brannvscho1

brannvscho2

brannvscho3

EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

 

Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge: EPIC VERSE live blog

epicverse2

Those of you who were reading the blog last year at this time will remember Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – when, in honor of National Poetry Month, I called upon my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS to give me suggestions for a whole slew of EPIC VERSE masterpieces. You all stepped up to the plate (well, those of you who were here at the time…and for those of you who weren’t, WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?), and we had a month full of EPIC VERSE goodness.

This year, as I announced a couple weeks ago, I’m continuing the Poetry Challenge tradition with a live blog. Yes, that’s right, it’s the SECOND ANNUAL Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – sure to be an annual tradition for years and years to come.

For tonight’s lyrical explosion of spontaneous awesomeness, I’m once again calling on you all to inspire your Warchief. Here’s how this is going to work: when this post goes live, you’re all invited to use the comments to post your ideas and suggestions – you can give topics, themes, characters, turns of phrase, ANYTHING you think might make for a good starting point to give me ideas for what I’m going to write. (Try to keep your suggestions here in the comments, rather than Twitter/Facebook/wherever, so your fellow readers and I can see them all in one place.)

Starting at 8:00 PM EDT, I’ll begin the live blog by adding to this post. At that point, I’ll start composing a new EPIC VERSE masterpiece (or masterpieces?) based on the suggestions you’ve given. Feel free to keep offering new ideas as we go along – I might incorporate new suggestions into the poem I’m writing, or maybe use them for ANOTHER new poem before the night is out. We’ll just see how it goes. In any case…once the live blog has started, keep refreshing this page. I’ll be adding to the post incrementally as I write, and you’ll get to watch your Warchief’s latest EPIC VERSE composed right before your eyes, in progress.

Kind of like getting to see how the sausage gets made. If the sausage was made from the ground meat of the SUPER AWESOME UBER-BEAST RAISED IN THE PARADISE FIELDS OF GENIUS AND FED A STEADY DIET OF SOLIDIFIED PERFECTION AND BADASSERY.

*  *  *  *  *

Okay, kids, the show’s about to begin. I’m going to take a moment and take a look at what we’ve got for suggestions so far, and maybe give the latecomers a minute or two to get their initial suggestions in before I get rolling. Keep the ideas coming as we go, and I may still work them in as I’m able…

Remember, keep refreshing this page to watch the live blog unfold in progress.

*  *  *  *  *

The Dontrag and the Utvoch came
To celebrate the season,
And brought such pain to any brain
Imbued with any reason.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch asked
The Warchief for permission
To undertake — for sure, half-baked —
A Noblegarden mission.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch told
The Warchief of their plan:
To gather eggs from hopping legs
That bounced around the land.

The Warchief, for his part, approved,
And told them to proceed.
(He thought, of course, the only source
For this could be felweed.)

The Dontrag and the Utvoch ran
Across the Four-Winds Valley,
And high and low sought eggs to go
Into their final tally.

Then near a burrow, D&U
Saw wrigglin’ and squirmin’,
When to the ground, with mighty bound
Leapt out a giant virmen.

The Dontrag cried, “Move fast, Utvoch!
Don’t let it run off!  Grab it!”
For sure, he thought, they had just caught
The Noblegarden Rabbit.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch pounced
And lunged with all their might —
Though in no story was their quarry
Such a daunting height.

They found the Rabbit’s fury one
That not a one surpasses,
So by the end, their hoppy friend
Had badly kicked their asses.

The Warchief, when the pair returned,
Was unsure, sad or funny,
Which best to say, to know that they’d
Been beat on by a bunny.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch mused,
“At least we didn’t die.”
And down they sat on asses fat
And dined on humble pie.

EPIC V—

That was weak.

The FUCK? Who the hell is this?!

What, you still don’t recognize me, Hellscream? I thought you were good at spotting me online now.

Wait, don’t tell me this is—  Hang on.

SPAZZLE!

What’s up, boss?

The likelihood of me drop-kicking your green ass back to the Lost Isles, for starters.

That’s it. Throw another hissy fit and alienate even more of your own people. That’s a formula for success.

Oh…oh no. Don’t tell me Varian broke into the blog again.

OH I’M TELLING YOU EXACTLY THAT, MOTHERFUCKER

Have you considered anger management classes, by the way?

What the hell happened to the SECURITY thingywhatsises you were supposedly building into the blog, like, FOREVER ago?

Ugh. It must be that wireless connection you have down there. I TOLD you Grizzle didn’t know how to set up a reliable network above the level of aluminum cans and some string.

Goddammit. Well try to get him out of here, will you? I’ve got a live blog to do.

You mean this exhibition of fail? Hah. I couldn’t pass up the chance to look in a watch you make an even bigger jackass of yourself than usual.

Hey, don’t be jealous just because I actually know how to string a few words together, human.

Actually, you know what? Go ahead and be jealous of that. Also of all the fans I have, who’ve turned out to bask in the brilliance (BACK ME UP HERE, PEOPLE). And, oh yeah, of how much smarter and better-looking and all-around more awesome I am.

Hellscream, I haven’t done any writing since I was a kid—

I notice you’re not counting your own blog there.

—but even I could do better than these dimwitted nursery rhymes you’re spewing out.

You know what, asshole? YOU’RE ON. Let’s see what you’ve got.

CUE THE AMBIGUOUSLY THIRD-PERSON LEAD-IN!

*  *  *  *  *

EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

GARROSH HELLSCREAM

VS.

VARIAN WRYNN

BEGIN!

*  *  *  *  *

Come on, bring it, Hellscream – hope you’re ready to lose.
I’m pretty sure a basic campfire could rhyme better than you.
I’m the king! The boss! I was born to rule!
Thrall took his Doomhammer and left the orcs with a tool.
While I was ruling orc arenas with my wolf-god-modding
You were a whiny emo bitch busy whining and sobbing.
I’ll crush you, Garrosh, and add it to our duel triple feature
’Cause I’m the High King – you’re just a substitute teacher.

I’ve got no time for your Alliance propaganda,
Gonna beat you down so hard you’re gonna think I’m a panda.
You’re facing Garrosh, Lo’gosh – I was put here to pwn ya.
My dad killed Mannoroth; yours got ganked by Garona.
So the Warchief will pour grief and settle some scores:
I’m taking the lok’tar, all the ogar is yours.
No “either/or” in the fate that you deserved:
Crushed beneath the Horde – AND the one getting served.

Sure, hide in daddy’s shadow – I knew you’d bring up Grom,
I don’t remember that he ever had to use a mana bomb.
You’re on your own now, worried yet? ’Cause your lackeys you’re lackin’ –
You’re not getting bailed out now by your magnataur and kraken.
I’m coming with a gag order, I’ve had more than enough,
You’re so much talk, even your howling axe won’t ever shut up.
You’ve got a skull that’s all tiny, and your jaw’s extra large –
Between your mouth and your brain, I guess that shows who’s in charge.

You’re one to talk jaws, Chin-Boy, yours could carve out a mogu,
I’d call you Scarface but you’ve got no friends to say hello to.
Your scars and fail and ponytail – you’re like Lor’themar Lite.
I’ll bake your pride in lemon squares: here, swallow both in one bite.
You’re defensive, apprehensive; I’m offensive, gone berzerker –
I bet Tiffin cut you off, that’s why you had to screw your workers.
My rhymes are terse and yours are worse, so curse and next time go rehearse,
Now FUCK YOU, VARIAN – that’s

EPIC

fucking

VERSE

<drops mic and walks away like a boss>

*  *  *  *  *

WHO WON?

WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!

EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

 

[Thanks for coming, everyone. More weirdness soon…]