Tag Archives: i need better minions

Kypari Zar

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[Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you! As I said at the end of the Spazzle mailbag, I want to finish Garrosh’s journey to Kypari Zar before I return him to mailbag duty. And since we still have a few chapters of the Kypari Zar story to go, today’s regularly scheduled mailbag is on hold until this comic sequence wraps up. (I’ve used awkward workarounds in the past to let him post mailbags while he was in the middle of other events, but truth be told, I always found them rather inelegant, so I’d rather not resort to them again…) As I indicated last time, the mail will be coming, the first Monday following the completion of the Kypari Zar mini-arc (believe me, you’ll know when that is!).

Until then, all I can do is thank you for your patience with my slow production of late, thank you in advance for your ongoing patience going forward, and promise that I really am working on generating content for the blog as quickly as life will allow! Oh, and hope that you’re finding that content tolerable when it finally does get here… <crosses fingers>

With that said… let me toss out a handy link back to parts one and two, then send you right along to… ]

 

THREE: HAUNTED

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* As longtime readers will remember, Garrosh believed at one point that he had been reunited with his long-lost mother, Lakkara,** only to discover that her apparent return had actually been a ruse perpetrated by Magatha Grimtotem. Magatha used to specially attuned totem to summon Lakkara’s spirit and create the appearance that she had returned, only to stage her apparent death — hauntingly, given the current events at Kypari Zar, by her stepping in to take an attacker’s blow directed at Garrosh.

** I’ve noted this before, but it bears repeating: while Lords of War and the “Hellscream” short story established that Garrosh’s mother’s name was Golka, the blog still acknowledges her as Lakkara. This is partially because the blog arc had already happened by the time Lords of War came along, and I didn’t really want to retcon, and partially because… well, you’ll see. There is A Plan.™ Just trust me for now!

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Okay, who pulled?

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Earlier today, I rounded up General Nazgrim, Shokia, Jorn Skyseer, and a few Kor’kron — beastmasters in particular — and finally took a trip up to the Isle of Giants. Most of you will probably remember I’ve been having Nazgrim send his people up there to get the lay of the land and scout out the prospect of there being some animals — the Giants of which this is the Isle of — that might be useful to us. Because DINOSAURS, motherfucker.

Now, most of you will ALSO probably remember that the last time I got a report on the subject from Naz and company, I was still in Orgrimmar, and Nazgrim’s people decided to get cute rather than waiting for me to get back down here to Pandaria. And, you know, things went about as well as you’d expect them to when my minions go off-script. R.I.P. Wannabe Dinomancer Steve, you stupid dead motherfucker.

So today I finally took the trip up there to check things out personally. And HOO BOY, they were NOT kidding about that place. DINOSAUR CITY, man. Shokia took point for us, since she’d led the scouting expeditions and knew the territory the best. She guided us up to this central plateau on the island, and lo and behold, larger than life, there he was — Oondasta, the giant freaking devilsaur that Nazgrim’s crew had their eyes on last time, before ol’ Deadmaster Steve turned out to smell appetizing.

Now, though, we came prepared — seeing as THIS time, the brains of the operation had an actual BRAIN. What’s more, I had my handy-dandy Tome of Dinomancy that Grottee Metalbeard scored for me, and after we managed to maneuver Oondasta into a clear area, the beastmasters started doing their thing, and everything started falling into place. The dino struggled at first, but soon enough he started giving in to the enchantments of the tome, and full-on taming looked to be right around the corner.

Aaaaaand of course, since this is US, that’s when something stupid happened. The stupid in this case took the form of this random bunch of Alliance nobodies running on in and ATTACKING the damn devilsaur that we were trying to tame. Before we even had a chance to react, they had the dino beaten down pretty badly, and even though we were able to thin the herd pretty quickly once we realized what was going on, the remaining Allies were still able to finish Oondasta off. Like, just shy of one minute before I personally chopped the last handful of them into several dozen pieces.

But, still, damage done. Shokia was nearly as pissed off about it as I was, which is saying something. Apparently it’s some kind of a hunter thing, people killing their prospective pets, and I mean, who the fuck does that? In what other setting is that shit a cool thing to do? Would someone go running into a fucking pet shop, too, and put an axe through the damn goldfish you were getting ready to buy, along with a little model sunk ship and a little model Nazgrim leading his little model crew away from their latest little model disaster? No. Nobody does that. But oh boy, take the “you kill it, you buy it” policy out of the equation, and all of a sudden watch the griefers come out of the woodwork. Fucking rude if you ask me.

Anyway, I suppose we didn’t come away COMPLETELY empty-handed. We know that these tomes actually work, for one thing. And according to my sources, there’s an even bigger, badder devilsaur wandering around out there. A little more elusive, apparently, but we’ll find him.

Also, I have kind of a consolation prize to bring back to base with me. After Oondasta and the bad-judgment-having Alliance jackasses all bought it, we were getting ready to leave, when this young, cobalt-colored direhorn came wandering into the clearing. She went sniffing around Oondasta’s body, then poked around kind of aimlessly before she came over near us. Jorn’s guess is that the direhorn followed Oondasta around and fed on his leftovers. Whatever the story was, she seemed to take a liking to me right away (#TheLadyDinosaursLoveGarrosh?), and started following me, and… well… yeah, I guess I’ve got another mount for my personal stash in the stables. <shrug>

Anyhow, I suppose we’ve got a little time now to line things up for take two with that other devilsaur. In the meantime, I get to figure out how I’m going to get a damn direhorn back to base.

More soon.

 

Worg in sheep’s clothing

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Mokvar’s been keeping me posted on his research into the Golmash situation, and needless to say I don’t like the sound of this one bit. I finally decided it was time for me to go over to have a look at this wolf personally. Mokvar came with, since he’s already deep into the situation, plus Shayari decided she was going to tag along, mainly because I think she heard me talking about going over to the Hunter’s Hall and got the idea in her head that maybe it was like a petting zoo or some shit. Granted, it’s not like she’s got any part in this business, but I’ve already learned how little good it goes to try to get her to stay put when she’s got her mind set on going somewhere. (I really was hoping that would skip a generation.)

So the bunch of us headed over to the Hunter’s Hall this morning. That also marks the first time I’ve gotten to have a little face time with Ogunaro Wolfrunner, after having had a fair bit of contact with him through his mailbag letters. Good guy, make no mistake, but yeah, Mokvar wasn’t kidding, dude could not be more earnest if he tried. I can see why his kid grew up seriously needing to unclench a little. Speaking of whom, Corkrok passed his om’riggor since last we heard. Good on him. No surprise, of course — he seemed plenty driven. I can already tell he’s going to be a regular laugh riot for Overlord Runthak, though, when the kid hitches on with his trainee unit.

Anyhow, on to the main event.

So the plan was twofold — one, for me to have a look for myself at this wolf and see what the hubbub is about, between Ogunaro’s reports and Mokvar’s creeped-out investigations and his suspicion there might actually be someone in there. And two, to move Golmash over to a special pen I’ve had set up at the Kor’kron stables, where he can be kept isolated and under close observation, as opposed to the general stables we have open to the public at the Hunter’s Hall.

Part one went smoothly enough, even if it was disturbing. As per my orders, Ogunaro had Golmash isolated from the other wolves. I’d heard plenty about him, but this was my first time seeing him with my own eyes. Ogunaro and Mokvar weren’t kidding about how creepy this wolf is. On paper, I wouldn’t have figured that the green glow in his eyes would be as unnerving as it is, but the more you watch him, the more disturbing it seems. It doesn’t even jump right out at you — you can miss it if you aren’t really watching, but once you notice it, it’s like you can’t look away. Green and glowing, with that dull haze that somehow manages to glow and look dead at the same time. I wouldn’t have thought that combination was possible. (Then again, D&U manage to keep themselves alive while, you know, being D&U, so that probably shows all you need to know about seeming contradictions. If you don’t have a taste for paradox, you better not try taking life straight.)

It’s a weird coincidence that Ogunaro decided to name the wolf after my grandfather, the first to carry the name Hellscream. Golmash (the original, not the four-legged knockoff) died in the jaws of a giant gronn — but not before he drove Gorehowl into the giant’s skill to bring it down with him. I almost hate to admit it, but if it wasn’t for this whole creepy fel-tinged level to what’s going on, I would even think the name was fitting — one look and you get the feeling that if Gruul tried to swallow this wolf, he’d probably claw his way right out of Gruul’s mouth, up through his eye, and probably rip out his brain while he was at it.

So that was part one.

Part two ended up being more complicated than I was counting on. We already had a couple Kor’kron beastmasters on hand at Ogunaro’s place, keeping an eye on Golmash, and I had a couple other sent over to meet us when I went to pay my visit. Plus I made a point of putting extra guards around the Valley of Honor, and cleared a route from the Hunter’s Hall to the Kor’kron stables. So you would THINK that would be enough to handle the damn mutt.

YOU WOULD BE WRONG.

We might have had plans to transport Golmash over to the location, but Golmash had no such plans to go anywhere, and evidently when the best-laid plans of worgs and orcs run into each other, what oft goes awry is any delusion I might have had of getting things done quickly so I can grab an early lunch. Because that just would have been too fucking convenient.

According to Ogunaro, Golmash had been kind of ornery when he moved him into his current pen as per my instructions, but the wolf ultimately went along with it. Apparently, though, the furball was getting crankier by the day. The Kor’kron beastmasters tried to maneuver him along the exit path we’d planned, but Golmash was having none of it. At one point, two of the beastmasters tried to direct Golmash along with training prods, but even that wound up being a bad idea — he lunged right past the prods and onto one of the beastmasters. And I mean, I guess he probably didn’t NEED that arm, strictly speaking — it was just his left, after all — but it still has to be a drag being short one. Unless he came from the Shattered Hand clan, in which case, you know, either overdue or ironic, depending on how you look at it. He still fared better, though, than another one of the beastmasters who tried to help pull Golmash off him, because… well, the less said about that the better. The word “entrails” comes to mind.

So right about then, I was having one of my need-better-minions moments, what with multiple supposed “beastmasters” not exactly fully specced into actual beast mastery, and one of them apparently not having put any points into survival, either. Or I WOULD have been having one of those moments if it weren’t for the fact that I was busy dealing with a suddenly highly agitated, seemingly fel-compromised worg that may or may not be carrying some heretofore unknown spiritual cargo that makes KILLING him a non-starter even if DON’T TEMPT ME, while finding myself short one-and-a-quarter beastmasters, with Ogunaro running around the place swapping out his 3/3 Enhanced Earnestness to respec deep into Freakout while he tried to keep the surrounding pens under control, what with Golmash’s antics having gotten a whole bunch of the OTHER nearby stabled animals all riled up and agitated. And granted, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve found myself in a minion-related situation that I would compare to being a zoo, but come the fuck ON, universe, this is making it a little on-the-nose even for me.

So it was right around this point, when I was finally coming to the realization that yelling at the gaggle of panicking fuckers to pull their heads out of their asses and HANDLE it, that Shayari of all people actually had the presence of mind to pop a rapid-fire polymorph on Golmash. Which was pretty clutch, I’ve gotta say. Must be the Hellscream blood. (I even said something to her to that effect, but that just got her curious about family history and asking questions about Grom, but I managed to sidestep THAT long story by promising to tell her about it once we weren’t hip-deep in stupidity. I figure that oughta buy me at least a month or two.)

Anyhow, at THAT point, getting the wolf moved was a fairly simple task, since even those beastmasters — whose job title I’m seriously beginning to reconsider on grounds of irony — managed not to have too much trouble transporting a fucking sheep a little ways across town. And if the lot of them felt kind of embarrassed strolling through Orgrimmar in their badass Kor’kron armor and toting heavy-duty don’t-fuck-with-me weaponry while providing armed escort to a fucking SHEEP, well you know what? GOOD. Maybe next time, if they want to stroll around looking all hardcore, they should maybe figure out a way to STAY ON TOP OF THE HARDCORE-TYPE ASSIGNMENTS.

Ugh.

So. Wolf is under wraps in a controlled environment, is what I’m saying.

Or so I’d like to think. But, you know, based on recent field results, who knows. I’ll say this, all these trainees we’ve got coming up through the ranks are going to have all fucking kinds of room for career advancement right quick. Now if you’ll excuse me, in the meantime, I think I need to go put a “Jobs Available” post on Kragslist.

More soon.

 

Leave the dinomancy to the dinomancers

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So, I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before, but I’m really starting to think, oh, I don’t know, I might possibly need some BETTER FUCKING MINIONS. Have I already talked about this?

WELL HERE’S THE LATEST FUCKING CHAPTER.

I just got a report from General Nazgrim in Pandaria. Delivered straight from Pandaria by the general’s personal courier, Quirox the Illiterate. Yes, you read that right. Yes, that’s his nickname. No, I’m not joking. And yes, it’s accurate. And as ridiculous as that sounds, it actually has some merit to it. Think about it — an illiterate courier means you can send highly classified, top secret documents without there being ANY chance of prying eyes peeking in transit. Also, this might or might not tell us anything, but later on in the day, guess who I noticed ol’ Quirox hanging out with? Here’s a hint: the letters D and U are involved. Birds of a braindead feather, I tell you.

Anyway, Nazgrim’s report. And if you’ve been reading the blog for any length of time, you probably already have a sense of what tends to happen when I delegate to people and then have them report back to me later. For those of you who are new to the party, what tends to happen is NOTHING WHATSOEVER THAT IS GOOD FOR MY FUCKING BLOOD PRESSURE. Case in point: A little while back, I gave Nazgrim orders to send some people up to this Isle of Giants place off the coast of Pandaria and see what the dinosaur situation was. Because if the fucking Zandalari could sweet-talk some of the dinosaurs into being mounts and minions for them, we sure as well should try to get in on the ground floor there, because DINOSAURS, HOT DAMN.

Now, Nazgrim’s original assignment was to send a scouting detail to size things up. Which he did, with a small team headed by Marksman Shokia and Shademaster Kiryn. They zipped on up to the Isle of Giants, surveyed the area, gathered info on the denizens. No sign of the Zandas, other than an abandoned ship off the coast. Still loads of dinosaurs all over the place, ready for the taking. So far, so good. Awesome.

Then, for some reason I DON’T KNOW WHY, Nazgrim decided to get creative and go off the script.

This is the part where the long-time readers among you probably starting getting a Bad Feeling About This.

Because…yeah.

So, you might remember a few mailbags ago, Grottee Metalbeard sent along a peace offering to make up for his HOLY FUCKING SHIT “How to Out-Tirion Tirion” letter, in the form of a Zandalari Tome of Dinomancy that he’d gotten hold of. (I’ll forgive you if you’d missed that detail, since by that point a lot of you were probably like “Oh shit, another Grottee letter, it’s skim time, somebody tell me when it’s safe to come out.”) (Then the universe unleashed Sarlin on us all. Well played, universe. You win again.) My plan was to bring it with me when I head back to Pandaria, along with a team of Kor’kron beastmasters, and have them see if they could make use of it to tame us some new badass military monsters.

Somehow or other, though, Nazgrim got his hands on one of those tomes himself, and decided it was a good idea to take matters into his own hands and have some of his people try to use it themselves, even though the people HE had on hand weren’t Kor’kron beastmasters. They were, in fact, neither Kor’kron NOR beastmasters. Nor competent. Nor in possession, apparently, of an ounce of fucking SENSE, but hey, since when is THAT news when it comes to somebody I have on my payroll not named fucking ME?

So Nazgrim toddled on up to the Isle of Giants with… I don’t know, WHOEVER the fuck he thought would be good to try this with. Some non-Kor’kron non-beastmaster dude. I don’t even think he was a hunter, because, yeah, THAT’S another good idea when you’re trying to tame something. I don’t even know WHAT he was. Just some guy, apparently. Probably named Steve or some shit. ANYWAY. They flew over there, and Nazgrim had one of his people, Generic Red Shirt Moron Steve, try his luck with the Tome of Dinomancy. Oh but also, to add to the shit-tacular brilliance of this plan, they didn’t bother trying things out on any of the smaller, weaker dinosaurs, just to get a feel for the process, because that would just make too much damn SENSE, right? Oh no, old Steve went straight for the big noise — he went right on up to this giant freaking devilsaur that the locals called Oondasta. And, you know, when a dinosaur gets a fucking NAME, you know it’s no joke, right? As if to say, oh, those plain ol’ regular dinosaurs? Pfft, who cares about those? They’re just FUCKING DINOSAURS. But THIS one here? HOO BOY, THIS is the one you have to pay attention to.

So ol’ fucking worthless shithead Steve — who I literally know nothing about other than his existence (and by the way, stay tuned even on THAT front), but who I’m still going to make sweeping dismissive comments about because FUCK THAT IDIOT — he rolled up on Oondasta like he owned the place, and started trying whatever dino-mojo the Tome of Dinomancy had in it. And Oondasta picked up on the dinomancy vibe and came stomping on over, and walked right up to fuckhead Steve, and you know what happened next? THE FUCKING DEVILSAUR LEANED RIGHT DOWN AND SWALLOWED STEVE IN ONE BITE, COMPLETE WITH THE FUCKING TOME, THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED NEXT.

By the way, let me tell you, Nazgrim’s attempt to give an account of that in his report, without making it sound like the total fucking disaster that it was? I don’t know if it was hilarious or fucking sad. It’s a damn good thing he’s a decent field officer, though, because his non-combat decisionmaking? Eesh.

Anyway, though, I would say we’re back to the drawing board, except we really aren’t any worse off than we were before Nazgrim had his little brainstorm. We still have a useful scouting report on the Isle of Giants, and we still have MY Tome of Dinomancy, because unlike some OTHER people I could mention (I’m looking right at YOU, Steve — or I WOULD, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re probably getting ready to get shat out by Oondasta even as we speak), I have enough sense not to go running off unprepared to do some stupid shit. I MAKE SURE I’M PREPARED FOR THE STUPID SHIT I DO, GODDAMMIT.

We’ll just have to pick this up once I get back down there, tome and beastmasters in tow. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that nobody manages to shit the bed on this operation any more than they already have.

More soon.