Tag Archives: greatmother
A sniffly Warchief is a cranky Warchief
So in all the scouting reports we got on Pandaria before coming down here, all the pages and pages of description of the peoples and cultures and flora and fauna, HERE’S a little tidbit that nobody knew until now: The flu germs they’ve got here will fucking put you on your ASS.
This Pandaren flu hit a bunch of us, yours truly included, out of nowhere a couple days ago, and let me tell you, HOLY CRAP is this shit not fun. It’s extremely hard to shout orders with authority when you burst into a hacking cough three words in, so I’ve been mostly staying in my quarters resting up, while Warlord Bloodhilt and General Nazgrim tend to most of the goings-on here at the base.
Ben-Lin Cloudstrider, who came with us for the trip, has been checking in on me, and right as soon as I started to come down with this thing, she used some of the crane meat that the trainees have been gathering to whip me up a big pot of this Pandaren wildfowl soup. Gotta say, as much as I think her whole anger management deal is way too touchy-feely for my tastes, Ben DOES kind of have a whole Greatmother vibe going. Which is mostly good, because hey, homemade soup brought right to me. Maybe not quite so great when I decide to try to come downstairs and tough my way through some work, and she goes all “YOU GET BACK TO BED AND REST UP RIGHT NOW, YOUNG MAN” on me. (“Yeah, but I—” “No buts! You are sick and need your rest!” “Now hang on, I—” “DO NOT MAKE ME GET OUT MY SERIOUS FACE!”)
So, yeah. Between the flu and the ongoing spotty internet down here, updates may be a little slower than usual the next few days. On the up side, that buys Gurtash a little extra time to finish up a project I’ve got him on. With any luck, you’ll hear more about that soon.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go hack up a lung and pass out.
Remind me not to do that again
Okay, so maybe that wasn’t such a hot idea. Believe me, as of this morning, I’m paying for it. So this is going to be a short post, seeing as right now just looking at the computer screen is making my eyes hurt, and my head still kind of feels like it’s swimming around in oatmeal.
UGH.
The worst part of it is, it ended up being for nothing, because even though APPARENTLY T’chali did know what became of Sabellian or Sablemane or whatever the fuck we’re calling him this week, and even though I guess he TOLD me…damned if I can remember any of it. And no way am I going back up there to try to get the information out of T’chali again, because I’m pretty sure I know how that’s going to end up. Either more incoherent blogging or a dead troll.
So bottom line, yeah, we’ve got one of the last children of Deathwing running around loose somewhere, presumably somewhere in Outland, but who knows what he’s up to or where. But hey, you know what, if nobody else seems to think this is something to worry about, and they’re content to kick back and smoke another bowl or play catch with their bear or something, hey, fine. I’m going to leave a heads-up with Greatmother in Nagrand and with Nazgrel over in Thrallmar just so people are aware that, you know, there’s the outside chance of a fucking BLACK DRAGON showing up one day, but other than that, pfft, whatever. It’s your planet, guys. Have fun.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go brush my teeth and take a nap before I start heading back to Azeroth. The hell with this shit.
Remembrance of the dead
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[Guild][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Well what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
[Guild][ProfHubert] if we only had a silver piece for every time one of us has said that lol
[Guild][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Greetings, Warchief.
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Evening, Sylvanas
[Guild][ProfHubert] hello sir
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Who’s this guy?
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Master Apothecary Faranell, one of my aides here in the Undercity.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] He had asked about the guild while you were busy this week.
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Hey Prof
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] We didn’t want to bother you with it while you were doing more important things, so we decided to go ahead and invite him.
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Welcome to the guild
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Hopefully that’s all right with you, Warchief.
[Guild][ProfHubert] thank you sir
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Yeah, that’s fine
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] You guys can go ahead and invite people if you’re pretty comfortable with them
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] You’re sure about who this guy is, right?
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Oh hey, Prof, based on your name, are you playing the teacher class too?
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Yes, sir. I see him in person on a daily basis.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Okay, good
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] I want to start being more careful screening people coming into the guild
[Guild][ProfHubert] no, actually this character is a zookeeper
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Of course, sir.
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Yeah? You don’t see too many of those around
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Did you get my message about the plague?
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Yes, sir, this morning. I was actually just passing word on to Faranell to put a halt to any further experiments.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Fortunately we had only just recommenced our tests, as our attempts to work on a new plague had, of course, been shelved for quite some time.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Yeah, good
[Guild][ProfHubert] i noticed that yes
[Guild][ProfHubert] all the animals in the game are so mundane, i thought i might be able to find a way to enhance some of the breeds
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] I was just too angry for my own good when I gave you the go-ahead for that
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] But then you probably already realize that
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Understandable, Warchief.
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Can you do that?
[Guild][ProfHubert] we’ll find out, won’t we
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Are you dealing with matters a bit better now?
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] I’m not sure what would count as “better”
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] True.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] I’m going to head back to Nagrand in a day or two to spend a little time
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Visit Greatmother, that kind of thing
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Probably wise, indeed.
[Guild][ProfHubert] brb
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Of course in a perfect world I would intercept you-know-who on my way through the Dark Portal
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] If I might offer a word of advice, Warchief.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] What’s that?
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Your anger at Magatha Grimtotem is certainly justified, but I would urge you not to let your desire for vengeance to preoccupy your thoughts too greatly.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] I know only too well what it’s like to crave revenge against an enemy above all else.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] I know all about you and Arthas, Sylvanas
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] With all due respect, Warchief, I truly doubt that you do.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] But you’re right, insofar as avenging myself on the Lich King occupied nearly my every thought for quite some time.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Worked out for you I’d say
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] You got to see him dead
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Yes. And then I found myself with the minor dilemma of what else to think about.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] If I might make a suggestion, Warchief.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] This should be good
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] No one would dispute that Magatha’s actions were monstrous, or that her motives were vile. You are right to be angry, and should fate present the opportunity, it is just that she should be called to account. This much is beyond contention.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] In the interim, however, I would merely suggest attempting to focus less on what she took from you, and more on what she unwittingly gave.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] The fuck are you talking about, what she gave?
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Warchief, I’m certain that I do not need to tell you I am no stranger to loss.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Yeah, yeah, we’ve all heard about the story about the Scourge in Quel’thalas a thousand times, Sylvanas
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] There is that, yes. Countless numbers of my friends and family died that day.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh I mean, not to make light, but yeah
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] But even before the Scourge invasion…
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] You may or may not recall my dear sister Alleria, Warchief.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] She was part of the Alliance Expedition into Draenor, following the Second War over twenty years ago.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] She disappeared there and has not been seen since. Even in all the time since the Horde and Alliance have come to frequent Outland, there has been no sign of her.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] She has long since been presumed dead.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Yeah, right, I know
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Look, Sylvanas, I’m sorry about your sister, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Let me put it this way, Warchief.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Do you know – do you have even the faintest idea – what I would give to have one more day with her?
[Guild][ProfHubert] dark lady
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Ah…
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Magatha’s deception was odious, Garrosh, beyond question, but Lakkara’s return, though illusory in one important sense, was also very much real.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] From everything I gather, her spirit was not a hallucination, or a glamour, or a fabrication.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] It really was her, albeit a spirit and not flesh and blood.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] And for several days, you were able to be with your mother again.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] You were able to talk with her and hear her respond.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] You were able to see her face light up with pride as you showed her the man her boy had grown up to become.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] For all that’s despicable about Magatha’s doings and for all the rightful hatred you feel for her, Warchief, that much was a gift.
[Guild][ProfHubert] sylvanas?
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] I would simply urge you not to lose sight of that.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Hmm. Maybe, I guess…
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] One moment, Warchief.
[GilbertRose | Dontrag] has logged on.
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Hey Utvoch.
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] no its dontrag sir
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] but hello sir
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Crap, mixed you up again, sorry
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] I even have that mod to try to keep you straight, too
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] dont worry about it sir, we get it all the time
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Don’t know what it is with you two
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] guess we just have one of those faces
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Um…I can’t actually see your faces here, Dontrag
[ProfHubert] has logged off.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Warchief, I’m afraid I need to go for a bit. We have something of a situation here.
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] huh thats true
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] What’s going on?
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] weird
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] I’ll update you once I’ve had a chance to check on it myself, Warchief. Perhaps nothing. We shall see.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] At any rate, have a good trip to Nagrand if I do not see you again before that.
[Officer][LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] Take care, Garrosh.
[LivinDeadGrl | Sylvanas] has logged off.
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Okay, thanks, Sylvanas
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] And I’m talking to no one
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] so whats up sir
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Literally
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Not a lot, Dontrag
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] La la la no one here but me, la la la stuck talking to a moron in /g
[Officer][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Oh what the hell
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] oh ok
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] There once was a dwarf from Mudsprocket
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Who helped goblins work on their rocket
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] He tried to match wits
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] With two orcs, heads o’ shits,
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] Until, throwing hands up, cried “O fock it!”
[Guild][Omgipwnedurface | Garrosh] EPIC VERSE!
[Guild][GilbertRose | Dontrag] i don’t get it
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Not quite Monday, not quite mailbag
(Or, for the math nerds out there, NotQuite(Monday + Mailbag). I don’t really understand what that means. Spazzle said it would go over like gangbusters, though.)
The Grimtotem warrior that Nazgrim was holding in Brackenwall Village was delivered to Orgrimmar. As it turns out, she was a messenger. She had wanted to be brought to Orgrimmar in order to deliver a letter – to me personally.
On a side note, just before she arrived here, some of our soldiers captured a SECOND Grimtotem sneaking around the Dranosh’ar Blockade. This one’s being pretty tight-lipped about what he was doing there, so I’m guessing that one wasn’t another messenger. So I’m not sure what to make of that.
For now, though, it’s that first one that’s the bigger deal, because the message she was delivering…well, here, see for yourself.
Dearest Warchief Hellscream,
I hope this letter finds you well. Actually, let us not put up false pretenses; I don’t at all hope it finds you well, and further, I know that it will not.
Word has reached me of the terrible tragedy you have recently suffered, concerning the loss of your dear mother Lakkara. I believe I have some information concerning her loss that will be of interest to you. Indeed, you may even take some solace in this knowledge – you see, my good Garrosh, you have not truly lost her at all. That would require you to have ever truly had her back.
Allow me to share with you a most curious tale.
After my recent, shall we say, difficulties with many of my Grimtotem kin, I decided to retire temporarily through the Dark Portal to Outland – a remarkable spectacle at first sight, I must say. I do so love what your fellow orcs have done with the place. My handful of followers and I found the region of Nagrand by far the most hospitable – I will thank you for forgoing any obvious remarks concerning the ready availability of grass – and so we took up temporary residence in its outlying territories, near to your Mag’har kin’s Ancestral Grounds.
It was there that a most interesting thing took place. While foraging in the nearby hills, my associates happened upon a small, secluded cave in the mountainside. Inside, they found the body of an orcish woman who appeared to have died some years prior. Ever a student of spiritual custom, I found myself curious as to how the woman had come to be there, and why the Mag’har, usually so diligent in matters of honoring their dead, would have left her remains to go unburied in some remote cave. And so, I and my colleagues undertook some cautious investigations.
I will not trouble you with the details of our methods; suffice to say, in short order, we found to our amazement that we had discovered the remains of Lakkara, mate of the great Grommash Hellscream, last victim of the pernicious red pox that once ravaged the orcs.
Ordinarily, I would be loathe to disturb the fallen ancestors of any people. But, as I am sure you will understand, I am equally loathe to pass up a glowing opportunity.
You may recall, several weeks ago, investigating a Twilight’s Hammer cabal in Hyjal, resulting in some rather troubling visions courtesy of a conveniently placed shadebind totem. In a stroke of good fortune for me, and short-sightedness for you (both of which, I must say, I was rather counting on), you neglected in your rattled state to collect the offending totem. This made it possible for one of my associates to do so shortly thereafter – the totem, by this point, having attuned itself to you, my good Warchief, for purposes of binding to itself a few select spirits intimately linked to your soul. One crucial one in particular.
From there, it was a simple matter to summon forth Lakkara’s spirit and prepare her for her “return.” With the spiritbinding of her dear son to draw upon, and her actual body on hand, the other necessary manipulations were laborious but hardly difficult. A few selective blurrings of memories…the instilling of a few small additional ones…minor tinkering around the edges of the shadow of her mind: all trivial undertakings, really, once the real work of invocation was done. All the more trivial given how readily she took to them – only too happy to imagine that she had watched her son’s growth in life rather than from the beyond.
The entire process she would perceive – with some subtle nudging – as our careful ministration of her illness. (Not entirely an untruth, I might add.) And the fact of her past contagion would ensure that she would not allow anyone close enough to touch her, and thus discover her noncorporeal state.
And so, with that, it was simply a matter of placing a few totems to summon her into sustained phantasmal being and set her on her way to Garadar. Greatmother Geyah was, of course, the real test, but I hardly had any doubts that my Lakkara would pass inspection – my Lakkara was, after all, the real Lakkara. Or what remained of her spirit, more or less.
It was only a matter of time before she would seek out her dear boy.
Of course, your time together would, as you already know, be short-lived. The elder crone giveth, and the elder crone taketh away. In this case, the instrument of her removal would likewise come via shadebind – in this case, your former underling Gerbo, who, you may be surprised to learn, was from time to time of assistance to me in his days in Stonetalon. For a price, of course, but he was, quite frankly, something of a bargain as such matters go. At any rate, given our previous…association, and his own lingering distaste for his former Warchief, he was only too amenable to lending his aid one last time in death.
It takes a ghost to slay a ghost, after all.
You might well ask, at this point, why I would take the trouble to construct so elaborate a charade. Why would I invest such time and effort to conjure up the illusion of Lakkara, only to dispel it once again, all for no apparent, tangible gain.
You might well ask, but I suspect you need not. For illusory though she may have been, to you, dear Garrosh, she was real. And there is no agony quite so sharp as that of rescinded hope, is there, Warchief?
I will admit, my earlier efforts against you in the Bastion of Twilight were misguided. Then, I had sought to take my revenge by killing you. A foolish, short-sighted goal, I realize now. A terrible mistake whose failure, though grating at the time, has proven to be a blessing in disguise.
You see, I no longer have any desire to kill you. I’ve hurt you. And I intend to go on hurting you.
Enjoy your empty nest, dear Warchief. You will hear from me again.
–Magatha Grimtotem
…
Excuse me. I…think I need to step away from the computer for a minute.
…
…
…
Okay.
So.
I know a lot of you have been reading this blog for a while, and you probably already have an idea what to expect at this point. So you’re probably going to be a little surprised here.
See, ordinarily this would be the point where I start yelling, and going into all caps, and screaming bloody murder, and ranting on and on about how brutally I’m going to murder Magatha, and on and on, and filling up a couple paragraphs with how Magatha’s going to die, she’s going to die, oh holy crap she is so. Totally. Going. To die.
I’m not going to do that now.
See how calm I’m staying? Keeping it together, no yelling, not raising my voice even a little.
Want to know why?
You know that level of anger where it’s not burning up inside you, not even because it’s burned itself out – because that would imply it’s run its course and is done with – but because it’s gone so far beyond that burning, fiery, jump-up-and-down, stomp-your-feet kind of angry? That anger where the screaming and venting is just wasted energy, and you’re not going to waste any of that energy that you could save up to erase whoever or whatever it was that pushed you that far? You know that kind of angry?
I am so utterly beyond that right now.
So all I’m going to say is this.
You don’t have to worry about my rage, Magatha. I usually make a pretty big show of using up my rage. But rage is just anger that’s burned up and channeled into something else, expended as quickly as it comes. Rage is nothing. But anger that’s contained, even cultivated? That’s like a wine. It grows deeper, and richer, and ferments into something greater. It grows more potent. It grows creative.
Anger is the mother of invention. And it has an infinite, indelible memory.
So don’t worry about me ranting on and on and how you’re going to die, Magatha. I know it’s what you’re expecting from me, but not this time. That’s a promise.
You’re not going to die, Magatha.
You’re going to beg to.
And when you do, I’m going to be completely, utterly, hideously…calm.
Because I’m a glutton for punishment
Yesterday mom & I stade over night at Son Spring Post last night. Mom said it was a long walk back home to the villag and it would be good to rest here first. I dont think I wood of got to tired but maby she just wanted to visit the other place. She was talking a lot to the other grown ups so I gess maby she nose some of them.
They hav a whole other villag here and they have a lake just lik ours ownly its not our lak its different. They gave us grild mud fish for dinner & it was good but not good like great mom Geyah makes but maby they don’t catch fish as good as ours cuz they don’t have our lake just another lake thats not ours.
I think when we get home I will go fishing with dranosh if he dosnt still have a cold
When we left we walked down from the road to look at the big white mountain. I heard people talk about it but I never saw it before they call it Osha Goon. It was really big & white like they said and there was grass all around it and lots & lots of clef hoofs walking around.
there was one big group of grown up clef hoofs with some babies following it. mom told me to look at them. There was one big grown up one with white fur & then some more brown ones they wernt as big as the white one but they were still grown ups. Mom sed the big white one was the pack mother. Mom sed the white one was very old & she will probally die soon and then one of the girl clef hoofs that are younger will become the new pack mother.
Mom says the people in Son Spring Post watched the clef hoof pack and gave the girl clef hoofs names, Osha & Banthar & Beru & Mumaki & Thromka. Mom want ed me too look at them & see if I can gess wich one will be the new pack mom so I picked one and mom sed that was the one they called Osha.
I asked her if I pikt the rite one & she sed she don’t know we’ll have to find out. I asked her witch one she thot wood be the new pack mom & she pointed to one & sed her name is Banthar. I asked her why Banthar & she said because the other clef hoofs acted mad when the babies were bad and when the eleks came close. She sed Banthar didn’t let small things bother her & she sed the ones who end up being the leader are the ones who can endure.
Maby mom is rite cuz she is smart & knows stuff like that but I still think its stoopid they have to have a new pack mom, I think the old pack mom should just stay cuz its dumb she’s going to go away and then they have a new pack mom when they already have a pack mom. I gess animals are not to smart.
So we walked more cuz mom sed it was going to get hot soon so we should get home. I asked her how she knew and she sed to lisen. there was a buzzing sound somewhere & mom sed there is a bug that makes that sound when its going to be hot. I wonder what kind of bug it is and why it only makes the buzzing noise when its going too be hot and how it knows its going to be hot in the first place
When we got home mom sed she was tired & I should go play & she is going to take a nap becuz she is tired. But I think she might be getting a cold cuz she was koffing a lot when we got close to Garradar. a lot of the kids at school wer sick this week so maybe there is a bug going around only not like the bug that makes the buzzing noise but maby it is if they have a fever and the bug knows they are getting hot. I hope they get better soon & also Dranosh so we can go fishing. And mom too cuz she’s cool even tho she is old.
Putting my old journal away now. If I get the bright idea to dig it back out again, somebody slap some sense into me. Without the slapping, though, since I’d probably end up breaking your jaw before I would think to appreciate the concern.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Children’s Week
Ever since I got that letter from my mother a couple weeks ago, I’ve been thinking a lot about the old days in Nagrand. Like I’ve mentioned a few times already, I used to keep a journal back then. About a week ago, before I left for Nagrand, I pulled it out again, and I’ve been paging through now and then.
I don’t know if any of you have had the experience, but it’s funny reading things you wrote so long ago that you don’t even remember writing them. It’s like this weird ping pong game between “Oh crap, I wrote that? Was I ever really that stupid?” and “Hey, that sounds really smart, who wrote that?” I know, I know, I shouldn’t be all that surprised by that second one. Modesty is the burden of the preternaturally awesome.
Anyhow, I’ve been reading through those very first entries in particular. It wasn’t even really a journal at that point so much as a notebook I used to fill up with all kinds of stuff – drawings, my early half-assed attempts at poems, stories about things that had happened to me or that I just plain invented… I guess Greatmother Geyah and my mother both thought I had this creative side, so they figured they’d give me some notebooks to try to encourage me.
(Side note, you should totally see some of these cartoony little-kid pictures I drew of Jorin Deadeye, with like “POOP HEAD” written in and arrows pointing to him.)
I’ve been coming back to a few passages I’d written about my mom. Reading me stories (thinking back, that’s probably what got me started writing in the first place, all the nights she read me to sleep), like that rhyming kids’ book Talbuk Luck, kind of an old standard for Draenor kids back then. She even did this goofy sing-song voice for Tahri the Talbuk – I’d forgotten all about that until I started reading back over this stuff. Or the time later on when she took me on that long trip on foot out by Oshu’gun, and sat on one of the bluffs to watch Bach’lor running around in the fields with his herd.
The little-kid entries come to a stop all of a sudden, and don’t pick up again until I started writing again in my teens. And, oh boy, here comes the emo. But, yeah, the gap. Kicked in right about the point when she died. “Died”? Should I put that in quotation marks now? Anyway. Disappeared. Any desire to look at those notebooks went with her, for a long time.
Yesterday afternoon, Lakkara went out to go exploring Orgrimmar. I’d been showing her around, but I’m sure a lot of it was just this big blur of information, and she seemed pretty blown away by the place in general. No surprise – the city is gigantic compared to villages like Garadar that she’s used to, and even Shattrath doesn’t come across quite so vast and, well, overwhelming. So she wanted to have a little time to just look around at her own pace. Reasonable enough.
After a while when she hadn’t come back, I figured I’d go have a look around. As big and sprawling as Orgrimmar is, it’s pretty easy to get turned around even if you know the place, much less if you’re still new to it all. It took a while, and no small amount of circling around, but I finally tracked her down. In retrospect, I should have known where she’d be right off, considering what week it is.
I found her in the Orgrimmar orphanage. It was starting to get dark, and she and Matron Battlewail had the kids gathered around…while she read to them. Talbuk Luck. Of course. She was even doing her goofy Tahri the Talbuk voice, which was cracking this little troll girl up especially. She read through to the end, this silly sing-song rhyming story, and when she finished, Gurtash hopped up and shouted “Epic verse!”
Nobody noticed me when I first got there, so I just hung back and watched in the doorway, then headed back to Grommash Hold.
Tomorrow I’m sending out new orders to some of our field commanders. We’ve lost a lot of soldiers over the last year or so – in Vashj’ir, in Twilight Highlands, in Deepholm… Most of the time we recover the bodies and bring them home, give the fallen the burial they deserve. Sometimes, though, there’s no body found. People just disappear. And after a while, they wind up on the rolls of the dead.
Since Deathwing was defeated, things have been relatively quiet on most fronts. So I think we can spare the personnel to take on a few extra missions. I’m having the field commanders send out some additional patrols, an extra scouting party here and there, to make another sweep or two in the areas where we’ve taken those losses. In particular, the places where we’ve had people disappear, presumed dead but never confirmed beyond a doubt. The ones, especially, who’d left children behind. Just in case.
I’m not going to advertise it, and I’m sure not going to let them know at the orphanage and risk getting the kids’ hopes up. Life is hard enough, and cruel enough, which the orphans know better than anyone, without me setting them up for more disappointment. But who knows. Maybe there’s still some good news for one or two of them, out there waiting to be brought home. Doesn’t hurt to have a look.
Every once in a while – not often, but sometimes – life decides to be generous.
More soon.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Memories of dreaming glory
Well, that’s settled. My mother is alive.
I’ve been staying here in Garadar the last few days. Luckily Spazzle’s gotten my why-fly (or whatever it’s called) connection working a little more reliably, so I’ve been able to keep up with the blog and post this week’s EPIC VERSE and all of that. As I mentioned the other day, Greatmother said Lakkara had gone out to visit the other Mag’har in Hellfire Peninsula, so I’ve been hanging out here to see if she would turn up again before I needed to get back to business in Orgrimmar. Luckily things have been quiet back home lately, so I figured there wouldn’t be anything Eitrigg couldn’t handle while I was away. Also, yeah, I’m not going to lie, I figured timing-wise this might let me stick Eitrigg with those end-of-month military expenditure reviews. Fuck I hate paperwork.
Anyway. It’s been good to spend some time back here, I suppose, although it’s also been giving Greatmother plenty of time to give me her nudge-nudge reminders about Kilrath having a daughter and how she wanted me to meet her and yeah, that’s just what I want, to get paired off with some girl my Greatmother picked out for me.
On the up side, I’ve gotten to spend some time hanging around with Jorin Deadeye, who used to pick on me like nobody’s business when we were kids, and didn’t get a whole lot better when we grew up. Everything with him was “Nice job your dad did dooming our people,” and “Damn, you’re a mopey, whiny little bitch” (and granted back in those days I WAS pretty emo, and I CAN’T IMAGINE WHY I WOULD HAVE BEEN KIND OF DOWN ON MYSELF AT THE TIME), and going around calling himself the “warchief” of the Bleeding Hollow clan instead of the chieftain. So I’ve been making a point of just hanging out wherever he’s been pretty regularly, and saying stuff to him like, “So hey, you like my axe? Yeah? Well check it, this is Gorehowl, the blade my dad used to FUCKING ONE-SHOT MANNOROTH and lift the blood haze from the orcs, how ’bout that, huh?” and “Hey, Chieftain, remind me, who’s actually Warchief these days? OH YEAH, SMALL WORLD!” Cue the comically appropriate Earth Online machinima:
Good times.
But anyway, back to the original point of the post. Earlier today, Lakkara turned up again. Greatmother called me up to her dwelling to see her. I have to admit, even though I knew that the smart thing was to stay skeptical until I could confirm who she was, it was pretty tough not to be shaken up by the first sight of her. I haven’t seen my mother since I was a little kid, but those last fumes of memory stay with you…and damned if she didn’t look just like my mother, with some extra wrinkles and gray hairs added on. Older for sure, weakened by the red pox and worn by a hard life, but damned if she didn’t look just like her.
I don’t think I was the only one who was shaken up some. As soon as I showed up, Lakkara became pretty emotional and teared up…it took her some time to pull herself together. Greatmother stepped outside so the two of us could have some time alone. Mostly at first I just let her talk. She pretty much repeated what she’d said in her letter, filled in a few more details here and there…I held back and tried to give her room to contradict herself, and listened the best I could for any holes in her story. Nothing I could see.
Then I played my ace in the hole. There was one time when I was a kid when I woke up burning up with fever from the pox. But the disease wasn’t the worst part. In my feverish sleep, I’d been having a nightmare – one of those awful, vivid dreams you wake up from and you’re still not sure if it was a dream, or real, or if you’ve really woken from it or if anything around you is real. You know the ones? Those dreams you have as a little kid where even when you wake up you’re still scared the dream will come get you? Yeah. One of those. I had woken up, and my mother came in and sat with me, and we stayed up most of the night talking about the nightmare I’d had and the nightmare we were living and everything else in between that we could think of.
I’ve never talked to anyone else about any of this.
She remembered every detail. Once I brought it up, she didn’t need any prompting. No leading questions. Nothing. She remembered the night I was talking about, everything we’d talked about. Most of all she remembered the dream – everything I’d told her, as if it had only been days ago rather than years. It had stayed with her as much as it had with me. She said my nightmare had stolen one night’s sleep from me, but dozens from her. She said I would understand one day when I had a child of my own.
That would have been enough to convince me, but to tell you the truth, by that point I was already being won over. Never mind what she looked like – she smelled just like my mother. There are scents that just always stay with you, you know? And for whatever reason I’ve always had a pretty sharp sense of smell. Not that that’s always been a positive thing in some parts of Orgrimmar, let me tell you. Anyway, though…the more time I spent around this woman, the more I noticed it – that smell I can’t really describe but would always recognize when she was close to me, like old parchment and dreaming glories. Like comfort. Like home.
It’s her.
I’m going to stay here with her for another day or two, then I’ll be getting set to bring her to see the orcs’ new home. Obviously she’s never been through the Dark Portal, and I’m kind of looking forward to showing her around Azeroth. I think she’s going to love Mulgore.
[Header image provided by Angelya from Revive and Rejuvenate, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Sweet home Nagrand
Before I forget, props to A Concerned Citizen for giving me a heads up about the naga and murlocs down in the Blasted Lands. In fact, it’s even better than you made it out – not only do the naga have the murlocs enslaved and lugging stuff around, which would be funny enough on its own, but get this, they’re even making some of the murlocs fight each other in gladiatorial games for their scaly entertainment! How awesome is that? HAH!
Anymore, moving on.
I’m back home in Garadar now, checking up on that letter I got the other day, supposedly from Lakkara. I don’t think it’s going to come as much of a shock to anyone that that one threw me for a loop, seeing as my mother was supposed to have died over twenty years ago. And before you guys start getting worried about me, yeah, I know this whole thing looks pretty potentially sketchy, so as much as I’m hoping it’s true, I’m not going to be stupid. The main thing is I need to check on this one way or the other. Either it’s true and my mom is actually still alive, or somebody’s messing with me for whatever reason, and if that’s the case there’s about to be a brand new dinner reservation at the VIP table at Chateau d’Unfathomable-Never-Ending-Agonizing-Pain.
Lakkara wasn’t in Garadar when I got here, but I spent the afternoon talking with Greatmother Geyah, and she pretty much confirmed what the letter had said. My mother really hadn’t died from the red pox way back when, but came down with a stronger, highly contagious form of it, and ended up moving off to the mountains in secret while Greatmother and a few others put out the story that she died. Which, first of all, I’m not exactly thrilled about being lied to all these years about my mother, even if I can understand why she didn’t want people following after her.
Anyway, though, Greatmother says Lakkara turned up in the village a few weeks ago, and just like with me and probably a lot of you, it set off Greatmother’s too-good-to-be-true radar. But based on what Greatmother’s told me, it sounds pretty legit so far. The first thing she did when Lakkara turned up was to go off with her in private and ask her as many questions as she could come up with that only the real Lakkara would know the answers for. She didn’t miss one. Greatmother seems pretty convinced, and geriatric or not, she’s usually not one to be fooled easily. (You should have seen me trying to put one over on her when I was a teenager. THOSE were some short one-way trips down Fuck Yourself Over Lane, let me tell you.)
According to Greatmother, Lakkara left sometime last week to visit Mag’har Post in Hellfire Peninsula and see what’s happened with the rest of our people. And she’d mentioned wanting to be able to see what’s become of some of the other parts of Draenor, so she wasn’t sure when she was planning to return. I may stay here for a few days and see if she turns up, and in the meantime maybe try to do a little more checking around. More soon.
Monday Mailbag
Don’t forget to make your last-minute suggestions for Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge this week! The last installment was the Sylvanas poem from Friday, so be sure to put your ideas in the comments there. In the meantime, let’s have a look at this week’s mail…
Since you’ve shown an interest in this week’s Noblegarden activities, I thought you might want to know about some rather…strange events going on around them. Down here in Bloodhoof Village, many of us have been engaging in the traditional egg hunts. As you probably already know, some of those eggs are magical, and when gathered they spawn several bunnies. So fairly early on in the holiday season, the village ends up being filled with dozens of these little rabbits, hopping around all over the place and going about their business.
That much is fine, it’s part of the holiday and we don’t mind the rabbits at all. The problem is that this year, we’re having an extra, unexpected guest whom we weren’t expecting. A few days into Noblegarden, the forest nymph Mylune, whom I think you’ve met, showed up unannounced and…well…just started going nuts. Not violent nuts or anything, she just saw all the bunnies and flipped. She’s been scampering around the village hugging as many rabbits as she can herd together, talking baby talk to them, and squealing on and on every time she sees more of them.
She’s not bothering anyone, really, just minding her own bunny-hugging business, and I can’t say she’s doing any harm. We tauren generally are on good terms with the dryads, so I don’t think we’re going to have any real trouble with her. It’s just…really weird. So I thought you might want to know what was happening.
–Maur Raincaller, Bloodhoof Village
Huh. Well, Maur, as long as she’s not actually causing any real problems, this might be one that we just let sit. Not to stick you guys with her charming company down there in Bloodhoof Village, but honestly? After last time, I’m not going anywhere near that chick. You should be fine, the holiday’s over now so she’ll probably go home soon enough, just make sure your newbie druids down there don’t try shifting into animal forms while she’s around. And you might want to tell any hunters you’ve got to keep their distance if they have pets. Oh and also, it might be a little inconvenient, I know, but you might want to give your windrider master a day or two off and just close down the flight path. I know from experience the wyverns probably aren’t going to get a lot done while she’s around, and your flight master will probably appreciate being spared the headaches. And possible bosom-clasp bruises.
How come people always be makin’ a big deal about dese death knights? I be pwnin’ dem down here in de Echo Isles ever since dey started seein’ dey trainers here.
–Bob, Echo Isles
Um, okay, first of all, idiot, there ARE no death knight trainers in the Echo Isles. There aren’t any baby death knights running around the junior league training areas like Echo Isles or Razor Hill or whatever. Because – NEWS FLASH, dimwit – all the death knights in the Horde are former Knights of the Ebon Blade, who were turned into death knights by Arthas back in the day, so the ONLY place they can train is in their own damn floaty city out in the Eastern Plaguelands. Which you would KNOW if you didn’t have your head jammed so far up your ass that you don’t have any fucking idea what’s going on AROUND you.
Which brings me to my next point. Dude, what the fuck is up with you? Seriously. Every few weeks I get some letter from you where you’re asking about some shit that absolutely anybody with a brain already knows, and half the time you’ve got something cringe-inducingly WRONG, so like, really, what’s your deal? Did you just get dropped on your head like eight thousand times? Did you, Dontrag, and Utvoch draw straws to see who got how much of the one brain you’ve got between you all, only you wound up with nothing because you lost focus and stuck your straws in your nose and started cracking yourself up making walrus noises? Or did you put on a bear suit for who the fuck knows what reason, then made the bad decision to drop by Hyjal, and next thing you knew that aforementioned prancy head case Mylune ran up and started squeezing you till she literally made you shit your brain right out? Because I’m really trying to figure you out, and I’m not coming up with much of anything other than something like that.
I tell you, I give Vol’jin a lot of crap, but spirits help him if this is the kind of wall-to-wall hired help he’s got to choose from down there.
I’m not quite sure how to begin, or even if you would want to hear from me. I’m sorry that I haven’t tried to contact you until now. I hope that in the end you’ll understand why.
When the red pox tore through our people in Nagrand, you and I were both afflicted, like most of the rest of the Mag’har. It was probably so long ago that you barely even remember it, if you do at all. I remember it well. I remember how sick you became. But I knew you would make it through. Even then, you were strong. You were always so strong.
Eventually the healers of Garadar began to cure our people of the red pox. Bit by bit, our little forgotten village began to recover. My symptoms, though, continued undiminished, no matter what our shamans did. Worse yet, in a few cases, those who had been cured found themselves reinfected after being around me, only this time with symptoms that were far more severe, and resisted all attempts at treatment. Almost without exception, they died.
I, on the other hand, lived on, suffering but alive, as if the pox and I were locked in a stalemate: me too strong to die, the disease too strong to fade. The shamans decided that somehow I had become a carrier for a far more virulent strain of that hateful disease.
In time, Garadar recovered, and I was the only one left, with no end to the pox in sight. More and more, those who came close to me found themselves infected. And more and more quickly, those who fell infected would die.
In time I decided that I could not remain a burden to our people. I exiled myself from the Mag’har, taking up shelter in a small hovel hidden away in the mountains near the Ancestral Grounds. When time and illness finally took me, I thought, at least I would be close to our sacred place. Perhaps the spirits would help guide me to the next life.
I disappeared quietly one night. At my urging, Greatmother Geyah told the village that the pox had finally taken me. In the eyes of Garadar, I had died. Only a handful of the elders knew the truth.
Years passed. The pox carried on unabated. So did I. All the while, I watched from afar as best I could. I watched as the demons’ hold on our once-beautiful world waned. I watched as the Mag’har slowly regathered themselves. And I watched you, Garrosh. I watched you grow up, strong as you always were, a man before your years, denied the luxury of a childhood. And I watched you live in a self-made purgatory forged of your father’s sins.
It broke my heart.
Years more passed, and you left Draenor to pursue a new life. A better life, I prayed.
Then, not long ago, a group of healers found me in my mountain refuge. I did not know them, and their garments were of a make unfamiliar to me. They were not of the Mag’har, some not even orcs. I do not know how they knew to find me, but they claimed to have new medicines from the world the orcs had taken up as their new home. While they could not offer a cure, they claimed they could contain the pox enough to prevent its spread. Under their treatment, the disease would no longer be airborne, only contagious by contact. A small comfort, but now at least, they said, the pain of the disease need not be compounded by the misery of solitude.
In time, I decided to risk revealing myself. I returned to Garadar, to the welcoming embrace of Greatmother Geyah.
In the days since my return, she has updated me on much that has transpired in my absence. The war, the internment, the demise of Mannoroth and the lifting of the blood haze. But most of all she told me of you. Strong and proud. A hero of a faraway war, fought against the icy talons of death itself. A leader of men, and now, Warchief of our people.
I do not wish anything from you, Garrosh. I have decided to reach out to you now only that you might finally know the truth, and know that I am so very, very proud of you. Do honor to our people and lead them well. As I always have, in this life or the next, I will be watching over you.
Love always, my Garrosh,
–Lakkara, Nagrand
Um…
<blink>
<stare>
…Mom?
Orc Lemon Squares
Today’s entry for Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge! This one is inspired by a repeated suggestion from the last few days, involving my Greatmother’s famous (previously secret) recipe, and the meddling tree who publicized it and forced me to institute whole new culinary policies a while back. Remember to make suggestions for next time in your comments!
Edenvale –
She’s a tree.
Edenvale –
Don’t you see?
Edenvale’s a tree,
I see.
Edenvale,
She had a scare –
She saw Garrosh
Over there.
“Oh no! Garrosh!”
Cried the tree.
“Please don’t kill me!
Let me be!
I’m your friend!
Yes! I swear!
Please don’t kill me,
Garrosh-There!”
“Don’t you fret
Your sappy head!
I won’t kill you,”
Garrosh said.
“No? You won’t?”
“Oh no,” he said.
“Or you already
Would be dead!”
“Oh,” she said,
The silly tree.
“Then, what do you want
With me?”
He came closer,
Garrosh-There.
And he said,
“I’m here to share.”
“Here to share,
Garrosh-There?”
“Here to share,”
Said Garrosh-There.
“Are you okay?”
Asked the tree.
“That doesn’t sound like you,”
Said she.
“Yeah, I know.
It kind of sucks.
But I figure,
What the fuck.
Greatmother says
I should share –
I should share
Her lemon squares.
So since Greatmother
Says to share,
I will try,”
Said Garrosh-There.
“So,” he said,
And gave a glare,
“Would you like
Some lemon squares?”
Edenvale looked nervous,
True.
She didn’t know
Quite what to do.
“Oh,” she said,
And held her nose.
“I really don’t want
To impose.”
“No, it’s fine,
They must be eaten.
Here, try one.
Or you’ll get beaten.”
“No, that’s okay,
None for me.”
“What’s the problem,
Stupid tree?”
“Well,” she said
To Garrosh-There.
“Well,” she said,
And looked quite scared.
“I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”
“Would you like them
Here or there?”
“I would not like them
Here or there.
I would not like them
Anywhere.
I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”
“Would you like them
In your home?
Would you like them
With a gnome?”
“I would not like them
In my home.
I would not like them
With a gnome.
I do not like them
Here or there.
I do not like them
Anywhere.
I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”
“Would you eat them
On a boat?
With a Naaru
Or space-goat?”
“I would not eat them
On a boat.
I’d simply give them
To the goat.
I do not want them
In my home.
I will not try them
With a gnome.
I do not want them
Here or there.
I do not want them
Anywhere.
I just don’t like
Orc lemon squares.
I just don’t like them,
Garrosh-There!”
“Would you, could you,
Might, may, will,
Try them up
In Teldrassil?”
“I would not, could not eat them there!
In Teldrassil, or anywhere!
I do not want them on a boat.
I will not share with some space-goat.
I do not want them in my home.
I do not want them with a gnome.
I do not want them here or there,
I do not want them anywhere!
I do not like orc lemon squares!
I do not like them, Garrosh-There!”
“How about
A doggy bag?
Served by Utvoch
And Dontrag?”
“Enough already!”
Cried the tree.
“Garrosh-There,
You let me be!”
“Would you try them
On the moon?
With Cenarius
And Mylune?”
“No, I would not
On the moon!
Even if they brought
Elune!”
“Would you try them,
Just once, ever,
Up amid
The Twisted Nether?”
“No! No! Not in the Nether!
I do not want to try them, ever!
Not in a bag! Not on the moon!
Not with Dontrag or with Mylune!
Not on a boat! Not in my home!
Not with a goat! Not with a gnome!
I will not try them here or there!
I do not want them ANYWHERE!
I do not like orc lemon squares!
I just don’t like them, Garrosh-There!”
“You don’t like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them
And you may.
Try them and you may,
I say.”
“Garrosh, dammit!
Fine, at last.
I’ll try them –
Just get off my ass.
Say…
I like orc lemon squares!
I do! I like them, Garrosh-There!
And I would eat them in my home!
And I would eat them with a gnome!
And I would have them on a boat,
And I would share with a space-goat!
I would eat them to my fill
All the way to Teldrassil!
I would take a doggy bag
(But spare me Utvoch and Dontrag)!
I would eat them on the moon,
With Cenarius and Mylune!
Yes, I will eat them here and there!
Oh, I would eat them anywhere!
I do so love
Orc lemon squares!
Thank you,
Thank you,
Garrosh-There.”
“See, I told you,”
Garrosh said.
“Plus you’re lucky
You’re not dead.”
“They’re so good!
So good, I say!
I might post them!
Yes I may!
I’ll post them on my blog,
I say!”
“Hold on a minute,
Silly tree.
That’s my Greatmother’s
Recipe.
Her recipe,
You silly tree.
We keep it
In the family!”
“But oh, they’re so good,
Garrosh-There!
They’re just too yummy
Not to share!
I’m sure your Greatmother
Won’t care!
I’ll spread her secret
Everywhere!
Now don’t get mad,
Garrosh! Relax!”
But he had gone
To get his axe.
EPIC VERSE!
