Tag Archives: ogres
Four Heads are (Slightly) Better than Two
You know, it’s a funny thing how sometimes, when you think you’ve reached a dead end, life ends up throwing you a bone. (Or maybe a mixed metaphor?) Ever since I looked in on Golmash — that worg that Ogunaro Wolfrunner reported showing some disturbing behavior (major undersell, by the way) — I’d been trying to research a few possible ideas involving shaman and warlock magic, but hadn’t been able to find anything. I felt like I’d run out of ideas.
That changed yesterday afternoon during a meeting between Garrosh, Lantresor, and a few others. Lantresor mentioned that he’d been accompanying Mogor the ogre down to Brackenwall Village every now and again, but Mogor (the ogre) had learned his way around well enough that he was going by himself to see Draz’Zilb.
That’s when it occurred to me that Draz’Zilb is pretty knowledgeable when it comes to shadow magic. Garrosh had brought him in on a project or two a while back, and he always seemed pretty sharp… you know, once you got past the evil. Then again, with my personal history, that’s something you learn to shrug off pretty quickly. Oh well.
I excused myself from the rest of the meeting so I could go look for Mogor. The ogre. Since I knew Garrosh had a security conference with Malkorok afterward, though, I sent for Taktani to cover for me with the notetaking. Granted, I don’t think Garrosh necessarily had anything he needed recorded in that particular meeting, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to leave Malkorok having to endure Tak’s, um, aggressive cheerfulness. And the hugs. No matter how much grouchier they made him. Which would only convince Tak that she needed to try harder to cheer Malkorok up. Now, sure, I wasn’t around to see any of this, but I can imagine it. And I do. Often. Whenever I’m having a bad day. It always puts a smile on my face. You should try it sometime.
I managed to track down Mogor just before he was about to leave for Dustwallow and convinced him to let me tag along. When we got there, Draz’Zilb set Mogor up with some sort of potion he’d been working on that restores a major chunk of Mogor’s intelligence. (I guess Mogor used to be a lot smarter. Don’t ask me what happened to him.) From what I gather, the effects of Draz’Zilb’s potion wear off after a matter of hours, which explains why Mogor’s been making a habit of going down there to see him.
An added benefit for me was that Mogor’s a shaman, and used to be a pretty good one, back before… you know… something happened to his head. Whatever it was. That meant he was able to join us in the conversation I was having with Draz’Zilb and actually contribute something from the shaman side of things. The whole thing had the added bonus of taking place in a remote location far removed from any prying eyes that might ordinarily be trying to peek in on business.
I won’t bore everyone with the details of the conversation. Lots of warlock and shaman shop talk. It ended up sounding pretty familiar, though, or at least reminiscent of some of that business Draz’Zilb was helping Garrosh deal with involving Magatha a couple years ago. Mogor was able to chip in a few odds and ends involving shaman incantations, particular some things he’d seen from some of the old orchish shamans back in the day. The end result of the discussion didn’t really tell me anything definite, but the more we talked, the more Draz’Zilb and Mogor were able to connect some dots from based on their experience, and what they had to say rang just true enough to make me think I may be on the right track.
I think I have a few avenues to take to try to follow up on this, mostly after we get back from Pandaria. The down side is that even if I’m thinking along the right lines, I don’t know how to test what I’m thinking, at least not without killing Golmash. Which I would imagine would defeat at least some of the point of the exercise. More importantly, though, if Golmash dies, I honestly don’t know what will happen. Or what we actually lose, or just how important the loss will be. But it has to be something important, because if I’m right, someone went to a lot of trouble and blurred a whole lot of lines. But I don’t know who, or when, or why. Part of me doesn’t even really want to find out.
Because here’s the gist of it. You remember when I said that the wolf’s growl sounded full, like there was more in there than even his voice could contain? If what I suspect is true, then I was more right then I realized. Only it’s not that there’s something more inside him. It’s that there’s someone.
I think Golmash is a soulstone.
Mokvar
“Contrary to popular belief, I can fix stupid.”
Monday mailbag
We’ve got a bunch of letters to get through this week, and I have a bunch of stuff I need to do today, so let’s get right down to it. And lo and behold, we get to kick things off with everybody’s… um… “favorite” new correspondent of mine…
Okay, consider this to be a sort of test. Of course, my initial shock of your new limitations to these letters was perhaps a little…irrational. It’s just that I have never been confronted with such a shock, not once in all my years! However many of them there are, that is. So allow me to extend my utmost apologies for my over-reaction. Brevity just isn’t a common art form where I live. To be frank, I’m almost strongly advised against it. After all, how do you think we manage to stall our enemies long enough for a little rogue to sneak behind them and twist a knife through their back?
Nonetheless, I have no doubts that this wasn’t a mere act of impatience or annoyance, but as a test against the foes who would inevitably call our bluff and have their OWN rogues sneaking up behind us while we’re speaking. For this, I thank you.
Perhaps you never knew, since I noticed you did not fight the Lich King during his final battle, but I think that the only reason we won was because Arthas was so intent on making us suffer, he just didn’t imagine Highlord Fordring’s faith in the Light to win out! There wasn’t much I could say, what with my being dead. Dark days.
Have any big , bad guys YOU’VE stood against attacked you after 250 words? Or you, them? I must read into this!
Remain faithful, dear Warchief.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade.
Um. Actually, Sarlin, the reason I…
<rubs forehead>
You know what? Fuck it. Whatever.
Yeah, you caught me. It was all just a lesson I was trying to teach you, making you limit your letters to 250 words or less. Just a big ol’ lesson about… hmm. Let’s see. FOCUS! There we go. Focus and efficiency. See, sometimes, sure, you need to… um… you know, that thing like you said with the rogues and whatever the hell that was… and sometimes you need to be able to focus in on the task at hand and get shit done, like pronto. Like for instance…
Hang on.
<flipping through book>
I know it’s here somewhere.
<flipping more pages>
So by the way, while I’m looking for this — speaking of rogues, have you ever met Garona? Because now that I think of it, that could be pretty damn entertaining if– oh wait wait wait, here we go. Here.
<opens book flat on desk>
Now we’re in business.
So FOR INSTANCE, like say you had a city taken over by those Scourge that you and your Argent buddies worry so much about, and let’s say the city was being run by some dude calling himself a baron — which would be kinda lame seeing as he could pick any title he wanted but settled for something ordinary like “baron” — and he’s holding someone prisoner, somebody’s wife maybe, and in 45 minutes ol’ baron-boy is gonna execute Ysera.
<squints>
Wait.
<leans closer to book>
Make that Ysida. He’s gonna execute Ysida. Man, Mokvar’s handwriting is some kind of spirits-damned awful, I tell you. But yeah, Ysida, not Ysera. Although, wouldn’t it be way cooler if I was right the first time? Doesn’t that sound kind of awesome, if the guy was gonna try to kill this giant green dragon? Now see, THAT would have made him a legit badass bad guy with some street cred.
Anyway, though, point is, say you need to get to your head-honcho baddie, and you’ve got limited time to do it in, you can’t just sit there taking your sweet time talking everything in the place to death, right? No, you want to get in there, kick some ass, take some names, promptly forget the names because who the fuck cares WHO those losers are, they’re dead now so pfft, then get to baron dude and beat him down before he drops the axe.
I mean, at least, YOU want to do that. From what I can tell, Ysida was a human, so as far as I would be concerned, fuck ’er, let ol’ Baron lop her head off for all I care. Good riddance. BUT YOU GET MY POINT.
Meanwhile, since you bring up Tirion back in ICC, I just gotta say… leave it to T-Ford to be frozen in a giant block of ice… and STILL find a way to break into a damn speech. No wonder Arthas was finally like “Fuck this shit, just kill me already, yeesh.”
Moving on.
So I don’t ordinarily do this, but this next letter came in the form of an image, and since it’s kind of visual, I’m going to just reproduce it here:
Okay, so, this is kind of a weird question, but on the other hand, this is obviously just a thinly veiled excuse to spend a little extra time checking out my, ahem, skintone, and I don’t know if I can blame you for taking a good long look in the “artistic” interests of picking your color pallette, because ENJOY THE VIEW, LADIES.
But, now that you mention it, the fact that you’re all interested in Horde edition crayons makes me feel like we’ve got a potential opportunity on our hands, because MERCHANDISING, BITCHES. Hell, there might even be a market for Warchief’s Command Board goodies — I think Spazzle was toying around the idea of trying to make some WCB action figures or something. Although personally I think that was just his way of angling to be immortalized in plastic. Which is really kind of sad, to be honest. Anyway, though, I might have to look into taking advantage of this market, what with, you know, all of a sudden me having a lot more by way of expenses.
So since you brought up the subject, Quelita, here, straight from… um… well, Gurtash’s unattended art supplies, mostly, and some quick printouts, enjoy a possible sampling:
Well, it’s a draft. Any thoughts on swag you guys might be interested in forking over your hard-earned gold for? It’ll be easier handing it over that way than at axepoint. I KID, I KID. Mostly.
Greetings, Warchief Hellscream,
After I recovered from reading your highly entertaining reaction to hearing about my potion, your ally Mogor persuaded me to send this sample of the potion. Although I was rather tempted to see you have another flip-out, I believe that’s the word for it, I decided instead that one good turn deserves another and agreed. I have only tested the effects of its standard strain on ogres, and two-headed ones at that, but at his discretion I modified it so that it can work pairs of heads on separate bodies which are very close in personality. It has been used on some ogre “duos”, you might call them, with fair success. I should warn you that it is still partially in the experimental stage, as I cannot account for the full effects of the potion and have never tried it on orcs. I should, but I don’t expect you would listen, and I can imagine you believe that knocking some sense into that bumbling pair of head-cases, Dontrag and Utvoch, is worth any price.
Kind Regards,
–Draz’Zilb of the Stonemaul Clan
So first of all, you ever notice how people who are like… super creepy evil are always really polite, even when they’re BEING super creepy evil? Don’t know why that came to mind just now. But keep it in mind the next time you need an airtight response to some jackass who’s trying to say I’M evil, because FUCK THAT GUY, THAT’S WHY.
Anyway.
So, listen, Draz’Zilb… and good to hear from you, by the way, nice to see you’re still up and about and vaguely disturbing and everything… but so, I think I might have some bad news for you.
Short version is, I think you may need to give that potion another draft or two before it’s ready for prime time on non-ogre types.
Longer version is… I got your potion and gave it to Dontrag and Utvoch a little while ago. And it sure as hell kicked in quick on them… and apparently helped stop their two little pea-brains from being so disconnected. Which in THIS case, meant that each one of them all of a sudden had partial control over the other one’s LIMBS. So they spent like an hour and a half yanking each other around and each of them experimenting to see if they could make the other walk into a wall or flap his arms like wings or whatever.
Now, look, I can totally see how this potion effect could be handy for your typical two-headed ogres. I can see how having two brains — even if they’re bargain-basement brains — running one body can be confusing as hell, especially if the two heads don’t always agree on what the body should be doing. I get how doing something to firm up bodily control and coordination could be a good thing. And even trying it out here on the braintrust, it was kind of entertaining for the first 20 minutes or so. But after it got past an hour, it was just starting to get annoying, especially with how it didn’t seem to be getting old at all to THEM.
Oh, and don’t even get me started on that 45-minute period when they both thought “DON’T HIT YOURSELF” was the most hysterical thing in the world after 7000 repetitions.
And you know what, Drazzy? That wasn’t even the worst of it. Because your crazy potion really did do the trick, and put their two brains — or, I mean, the two HALVES of the ONE fucking brain that they split between them — in synch with each other… just not the way you were probably shooting for. Because, see, after a little while, apparently they started being able to hear each other’s thoughts, and communicate telepathically. And I know this because of the three or four dozen times when one of them replied out loud to something the other one was thinking… or when one of them said something out loud to the other one, only the other one didn’t say anything out loud in response, but the first one acted like he got an answer… or, get this, when the two of them spent spirits-know-how-long not realizing that the damn mind-reading thing didn’t apply to fucking EVERYONE, so that when I asked them something, they couldn’t just THINK it at me.
Speaking of which, by the way, there seems to be some evidence that the effects of the potion can be dispelled by a severe beating around the head area. Eventually.
So, back to the drawing board, I’m thinking. Keep up the good work, though. And by “good,” I mean “disturbingly yet usefully evil.”
I was happy to see Gurtash is alive and recovering in your recent blog post. Give him my regards and well wishes.
I was curious about a book in the hands of the young shaman Ruekie. “Resto for Dummies” correct? Where can I find a copy? It looks like a book I would be interested in reading myself. I am a rather new shaman myself and wondering if this is something I want to continue training in or return to my monkish roots. This book may help me decide if this is what I want to do.
Are there other books in the series that would be helpful?
Have you written any books yourself?
Books are wonderful! I enjoy seeing shelves full of them!
Sincerely,
–Misqueu Zephyrpaw, Wandering Isle
Hey, Misqueu, thanks for writing. So before somebody else notices this and decides to be an asshole — because you know someone will — let me point out: yes, this letter from Misqueu did come from the Wandering Isle. Now, when I first noticed that, I’ll admit I had kind of a WTF moment about it, seeing as, last I’d heard, all the pandas on the Wandering Isle had either come to Orgrimmar to join the Horde, or stayed behind to go on living in isolation on the island. Okay, there were also the batch of pandas who went to join the Alliance, but they don’t count because FUCK THEM that’s why. Although they DID get to punch Varian in the face as part of the deal, and, you know, as much as I hate the Alliance, I have to admit that’s a pretty sweet perk. I’d seriously be half tempted to try swinging by Stormwind wearing a panda costume just to see if I could cash in on it myself. Again.
But, after my initial what-the-fuckery, I did a little checking on the matter. Which, by the way, took way longer than I would have figured. My first thought was to ask Ji about it, only it turned out some place down by the Drag was having an all-you-can-eat buffet, and hoo boy, when ol’ Pudge heard “all you can eat,” he didn’t just hear a bargain offer, he heard a fucking CHALLENGE. So, he wasn’t available to field questions.
Luckily, I was able to catch Ben-Lin free. Or, well, I MADE her free. I guess she was technically in the middle of one of her counseling sessions with some shellshocked Wrathgate survivor. I’m not too clear on what his deal was, though, seeing as we didn’t have a whole lot of time to chit chat what with him crapping himself and running out when I busted in and yelled that his time was up. I thought Ben-Lin was gonna get all serious-facey about the interruption, too, but then she realized that now the dude was probably going to be on the hook for a bunch more billable hours down the road. So, win-win for everybody.
Anyhow, Ben cleared up the whole Wandering Isle thing for me. Turns out, even after the initial batch of pandas took off from the Wandering Isle, a bunch of Korga Strongmane’s people stayed behind for a while with the other pandas, and told them a bunch about the goings-on in the rest of the world. I guess even though they wanted to keep to themselves on the island, they were still curious about what else is out there, and so, after a while, what do you know, they managed to get themselves set up with the internet. Which, as we all know, is fucking spectacular when it comes to letting people sit back and observe life without having to get un-hermit-ified and actually becoming part of it.
Although, that also raises the minor question of, you know, HOW THE FUCK do you hook up stable internet access ON A GIANT FUCKING TURTLE? Grizzle Gearslip can’t keep my goddamn wireless connection stable in Domination Point, but someone was able to hook up THE SHELL OF A GIANT TURTLE with net access? For real?
Oh, wait, you know what? I’ll bet you anything there were goblins involved. Because, where there’s a will there’s a way, and where there’s the prospect of monthly internet access fees, there’s ALL KINDS of motherfucking will. Apparently it’s just when they happen to be on MY FUCKING PAYROLL that goblins STILL aren’t able to get technical things to fucking well work. GRIZZLE. Fucking hell.
Okay, so. Was there actually a question up there somewhere? OH THAT’S RIGHT. Books.
No, I haven’t written any books. Well, not unless you count all the thrilling adventures, thoughts, and musings I’ve written here on the blog. THAT should count as a book or two, right? I’m just writing it a little at a time. And…having other people transcribe the dialogue for me. And draw illustrations. IT’S CALLED DELEGATING, OKAY?
I’m not sure about the book you saw Ruekie reading, but it IS part of a series. What’s kind of sad is the fact that a lot of the books are bestsellers, and yet just from looking at the titles, you can tell that they’re STILL pretty badly needed. For instance:
- Tanking for Dummies — Make sure you have the current edition, though, because they completely revise it from top to bottom every few months.
- Getting Out of the Fire for Dummies — 600,000 copies sold. And yet.
- Trolling for Dummies — Not sure if this one is about the jackassery you usually see in trade chat, or the ins and outs of life on the Echo Isles. Or how to tell the difference, come to think of it.
- Earth Online Dollarmaking for Dummies — To be honest, I don’t know if this one is legit, or if it’s like one of those seminars you see advertised on late-night live streams that promise to let you in on some big moneymaking secret and then the secret ends up being to charge naive saps like you a fee to hear about some moneymaking secret. (I’ve never fallen for this, by the way. And there are no living witnesses who will say otherwise.)
- Blogging for Dummies — Because not everyone is a fucking natural like yours truly.
- Commanding a Ship Without Wrecking It for Dummies — Guess what Nazgrim is getting from me for Winter Veil every year for the rest of his life?
- Timewalking for Dummies — I haven’t read a page of this book and if anyone brings a copy near me I swear to fuck I will beat them to death with it. Because fuck time travel.
I’m sure there are others, but those are the ones I can think of offhand. I might have to think about putting one of my own together, though. Something to share some of my own unique brand of wisdom, insight, and dead sexy kickassery. Hmm. Stay tuned.
But hey, if you’re a fan of books, Misqueu, I’ll tell you who you should have a sit-down with — Faranell down in the Undercity. I hear tell he’s pretty much read all of them. He can probably recite half of them back to you. Really saves space as far as the shelving goes, I figure. You should swing by and ask him about it, actually. He’s in the Apothecarium. Just go to the Undercity and…like… follow the smell. You can’t miss it. I’m sure he’d be glad to talk about… hmm. Actually, knowing Edwin, he probably WOULDN’T be too thrilled to…eh, you know what? Fuck it. Go drop by anyway. What the hell. It should be good for a laugh or two.
Now if you’ll excuse me, this is all reminding me of a couple things I need to go do, so I’m going to wrap this up and try to get back to the mail ASAP (fuck knows I still have enough of it building up…)
More soon.
[BONUS mailbag — the Warchief will be responding to his voluminous mail a second time this month! Garrosh’s next mailbag will be Monday, December 21. As always, send your thoughts to the Warchief using the email link in the right sidebar, or using the form below!]
Monday mailbag
Okay, people, seems like Shay’s guest mailbag from last time went over pretty well, so who knows, maybe I’ll do that again every so often. Not even with Shay, necessarily, because i don’t know how keen she would be to do those on a regular basis — as it is, I had to offer her a shopping trip in Silvermoon to get her to do that one, and there’s no fucking WAY I can afford to keep slinging those around on a monthly basis or whatever. But maybe every so often I can rope someone else into doing one, if you people have anyone else you might have questions for.
More importantly for right now, though, you’ve got the main event back, so let’s see what you peeps have on your minds this time around.
In my attempt to offer what seemed to me to be good advice to your beautiful and talented daughter, I believe I have offended her (and possibly you).
This troubles me, and I wish to offer to meet at your convenience to offer my personal apologies. (Lyssa doesn’t want me to go, but I think it the only proper thing to do.)
If there is any other service I may perform for you, please let me know, and until we meet, I remain your faithful follower,
–Sintra E’Drien of the Horde
Evidently, what you people have on your minds is how you can be even more exhausting than usual.
And I mean… you know what? This is just a textbook example. Because, look, Sintra, I know you mean well here, and you think you’re doing the right thing, and you’re trying to be nice, and all kinds of good crap like that, but just… fuck, you people are just so fucking high maintenance. Let’s just… look, apology accepted, okay? We’re all good. Well, I’m good. You want to take it up with Shay, go nuts, but don’t feel like you have to update me every step of the way. And if she looks at you funny or says something that makes you think she maybe had a TONE, just… just roll with it, okay? Don’t feel like you need to file a petition with the local notary public to declare every third Tuesday after a harvest moon factional What Can I Do To Make It Up To You Shayari Day.
For fuck’s sake, dude, it just never fucking ends.
And speaking of things that never end…
Anar’alah! Greetings yet again, most noble Warchief of the Horde!
Many thanks for the response! I was most gratified to receive an opportunity to contact your daughter directly! Although, given her response, (and yours, now I come to think of it) I’m not sure she’s too anxious to go on that “friend-date” you mentioned, anytime soon. I wonder what the problem could be. Although it is wonderful to see that she’s settling in rather well. I have to admit, I hadn’t expected that. Somehow, I always saw Nagrand as one of the most luxurious and leisurely places that could ever be. But I guess that when you’re poor, you see things differently. Orgrimmar may not be the prettiest place in the world, but I’m probably correct in saying that Shay has more now than she once did, with her father being the Warchief and all. So, for now, that’s certainly enough.
As for your own response, I am not related to Tirion or this Grottee Metalbeard fellow. Whatever made you suggest such a thing!? Perhaps I should remind you that I am an elf and Tirion is a human. And no, I am not HALF an elf. I’ve looked it all up, and I can’t possibly have fel-tainted eyes with two pupils, one green and one slightly lighter green, long ears and eyebrows, a slim and elf-like figure and the ability to produce arcane magic without being taught if I was half-elf. So, I am not related to Highlord Fordring in any way. I think. As for Grottee Metalbeard, I don’t know who that is! It sounds very gnomish. Or goblin? One or the other, anyway. Nobody else could possibly have “Metalbeard” as a last name without being a gnome or a goblin. And, seriously, I may be slightly shorter than the average height of a Blood Elf, but if you’re suggesting that I’m related to one of THOSE things…oh, no! Oh, and if Grottee’s reading this, don’t take it the wrong way. I just don’t like gnomes or goblins. And if you’re one of those delivery guy goblins, no, I’m NOT fucking tipping you! And while we’re also on the topic, “hooked up and gave birth to this letter”? That sentence, I must say, really put a horrifying image into my head. I mean, even worse than the Thalassian Brandy strutting through Hearthglen provocatively image. Because at least she’s GOOD LOOKING, you know!? And wow, is she good looking. I mean, sometimes I still ask myself if it was a dream. It probably was. Ha, good luck hoping, Sarlin. But Tirion Fordring and a GNOME? Or a goblin or WHATEVER. I would respectfully request that, in future, you refrain from planting such a horrific image in my head again. I still haven’t a clue as to how you got the idea that we were related.
Now. I feel good that that’s off my chest.
Yes, Twitter’s character limit has been a burden for quite some time now. It’s hard to elaborate and emphasize the more important things, such as the war efforts, gnoll necromancers, magi with weird hats, stupid mages who think it’s okay to polymorph random strangers whenever they want (that was no reference to Shayari, by the way!) and Light only knows what else with that limit in the way. I thought there would be a way to break it. Click the button with -284 characters and hope it would send. Impossible. It seems we live in a world where the only way forward is brevity. How unfortunate, would you not agree?
Shayari also told me that she occasionally ports back and forth to the Undercity for mage training. Which, I mean, I’m not concerned about THAT or anything, but do you really think it’s a good idea to get her so close to the Banshee Queen? I mean, I don’t know if I’d made it at all obvious but I don’t trust that woman! I mean, hey, at least I didn’t just say “No, I don’t LIKE her, therefore nobody else will!” Besides, who actually DOES like Sylvanas? I just wonder if she’d be, you know, in a stable enviroment if she was practicing how to conjure a mana cake table and Sylvanas decided to walk in and freak out because look, it’s a Draenei. I mean, she’s already made it pretty obvious taht she doesn’t like YOU. Sylvanas, I mean. Just something for you to ponder on. Oh, and if you’re wondering, no, I haven’t had any real personal meetings with Sylvanas. There was one when I was pretty young, before I joined the Argent Dawn, but that was myself and a few other young soldiers. She just yelled at us for not killing enough humans. I got off lightly, I hadn’t killed one. Nonetheless, I worry. We had enough mayhem with the Lich King. And if my sources tell me correctly, you see little difference between her and the Lich King. I trust you to make the right decision with regards to the subject.
Oh, and before I finish up, I just have to point out that I noticed a certain Pandaren named Ben-Lin Cloudstrider is hosting anger management classes! I didn’t know that you were thinking about adopting! To be honest, I couldn’t even imagine you wanting to have children! Although I’m likely right in assuming that when Shayari finally came into your life, you realized just how much you were missing. Being a father must be the most wonderful feeling in all worlds, wouldn’t you agree? It’s a shame that you lost seventeen years of poor Shay’s life, but you can make up for that now. Are you planning on adopting a baby? Wouldn’t it be just fine, to raise a child from before they’re even a year old! Quite frankly, my girlfriend and I have had thoughts of adopting, ourselves. We just want to travel a little bit more before we do so. And we’re still trying to work out which, uh, race to adopt. I was thinking maybe a High Elf, since they’re respected by the Kal’dorei (my girlfriend’s a Night Elf) and I’m quite fond of little High Elves, too. But that’s aside the point. Are you adopting a little orc or a little troll? Maybe even a little Blood Elf? Ha, I jest. They’re truly insufferable as children.
Back to the anger management class. Is Ben-Lin still doing those? Not that I have a HUGE anger problem, only sometimes I can be irrationally irate when the sounds of birds and flapping wings and even trickling water or the wind rustling grass or twigs, just the happy old noises, decide to all sound on what is known as “the morning after the night before”. Which often includes a LOT of alcohol. Mostly mead, although I do have a Gilnean friend who supplies me with brandy occasionally. It’s rather a strong beverage, I must say. Still, it’s fine for any occasion where you just want to get pissed out of your brains. But anyway! Yes, the only downside to consuming so much alcohol is the “morning after the night before” effect which is a bi-daily event where every aspect of nature comes together and floats around my sore head shrieking with voices like nails across a shield. I mean, I don’t mind birds, but when they annoy me like that, they just HAVE to fucking die, you know what I mean? And that’s the benefit of having a bow. You don’t have to throw your sword and hope it doesn’t miss. I have to say, it’s a pretty great release of anger. You know that rage that simply cannot be repressed? Birds always seem to know when I experience it, because they glide well into firing range when I do. Keep hush on this, but once, I was aiming for an annoying bird and shot it in the wing, only to find it was actually a troll in bird form. There’s a little Cenarian Circle camp nearby, so I guessed he was from that. Don’t worry, he made it, and I don’t think he saw me either! So anyway, I’ve had to clean up bird corpses a lot recently, only I haven’t been great at cleaning up the evidence, so there’s a small pile of dead birds behind Mardenholde Keep. With some incinerated kittens, also. And even some penguins that appear to have their skulls bashed in. I guess this is soon going to be the place where people drag the corpses of dead animals that end up falling to the blade of hangovers. And look, don’t worry about sponsors. I can always get my girlfriend to sponsor me. Or Daria L’Rayne, if she’s willing. Oh, and if you’re a little concerned about Daria, regarding my letter to Shayari, don’t worry. She doesn’t have anger issues, she just gets a bit irratable, but only during the days she’s on duty. I guess being advisor is pretty stressful. Anyhow, if I was to drag her along, rest assured, she’d be totally sober. Maybe. I mean, is alcohol allowed at these places? If so, well, I could always bring along some ale or something.
And hey, even if I can’t take part in the session, can you PLEASE just all have another one anyway!? Like, seriously! Do you have any fucking idea how FUNNY that was!? I mean, look, I always knew that Tirion drank quite a bit but I never actually could make sense of those corpses until I read that! Although I was a little disheartened when I went to tell everybody and they all already knew. I was like “Where the fuck was I for the last however long this has been going on for”? And oh my LIGHT, what is Mylune’s problem! I thought she loved animals! I mean, I haven’t met her many times but she does seem quite…uh, cuddly? I mean, I like hugs but gee, I think I like breathing more. Oh, heh, and I mentioned Lor’Themar to Shay, too. Tell me, was his hair perfect that day, too? Huh. He always did seem pretty calm to me. Just prissy as fuck, you know?
And also, if I might recommend it, maybe host the next one in that big gladiator’s or trial’s ring you got going on in Orgrimmar? You know, just so anybody who wants to come by for the giggles can do so. Look, I’ll stop with this suggesting nonsense and outright say that I WILL PAY YOU to do another. Even though you’re probably rich out now what with being Warchief and all. Still. I mean, if it helps, I’ll send over 10,000 gold and it might even feed a village of hungry peons, or maybe be enough to invent an elixir that will give them a brain.
I seem to have covered everything I’ve been wishing to bring up with you. I do hope that you don’t find any of this to be too demanding. I expect you have other issues to deal with besides the worries of a young Paladin, such as very incriminating photoes of dancing trolls or something. As opposed to “not so incriminating photoes”. Or “just slightly incriminating photoes”. The fel was up with THAT guy?
Oh, I did have a question! But fear not, I will be brief. What the fuck is up with Bob? Who even IS that guy? And what is his fucking PROBLEM!? Gee, I mean, it’s pretty obvious he’s a troll and all (in EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD EVER) but whoa! I mean, c’mon. It’s not the just the harsh, real fact that he’s an asshole, but the more harrowing fact that he lacks a brain. The fuck. I mean, everybody KNOWS that the Lich King’s horse is “Invincible”. Invincible and INVISIBLE are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS! ARE YOU READING THIS, BOB!? YOU MIGHT LEARN A THING OR TWO! GRR, YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SO ANGRY.
Anyhow, I digress. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must replace this inkwell with a slightly larger one, since it only holds maybe just over half of the ink that I require to send out not just mailbag letters to the Horde’s Warchief, but also to stay in close contact with other friends and possibly relatives around Azeroth and Outland! It’s just rather a pain to refill it constantly.
Light’s blessing to you, noble Warchief of the Horde.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker
I mean.
I literally don’t know how she does it. All I know is that by the time this last letter from Sarlin reached me, it had a petition attached to it, signed by nine ink vendors from all around Azeroth, asking me to declare a state of emergency due to the looming ink shortage.
But… okay… hello again, Sarlin. I see you still… have a lot on your mind. Again. So, um…
Okay, you know what? Let me just try to cover as much of this as I can, so she’ll at least have less ammunition for the NEXT time. Here goes.
Many thanks for the response! I was most gratified to receive an opportunity to contact your daughter directly! Although, given her response, (and yours, now I come to think of it) I’m not sure she’s too anxious to go on that “friend-date” you mentioned, anytime soon. I wonder what the problem could be.
Well, don’t let me speak for Shay, but it might have something to do with her irrational fear of having all the oxygen around her soaked up by a gaping vacuum of words words words, then suffocating helplessly, unable to cry out for help, because there are no words fucking left.
Orgrimmar may not be the prettiest place in the world, but I’m probably correct in saying that Shay has more now than she once did, with her father being the Warchief and all. So, for now, that’s certainly enough.
Apparently she had to leave most of her stuff behind when she left Dalaran. So…she actually doesn’t have more than she ever did, I don’t think, but…she’s working on it. I mean working HARD. Like really, REALLY hard. Let me put this in context for you: one of the perks of being Warchief is an unlimited credit account. Last week I got a notice from the goblin credit bureau that I was approaching my limit. Apparently, to teenage girls, infinity isn’t an abstraction — it’s a challenge.
As for your own response, I am not related to Tirion or this Grottee Metalbeard fellow. Whatever made you suggest such a thing!?
What indeed, Garrosh thought, realizing he wasn’t even 10% of the way into this letter yet.
Perhaps I should remind you that I am an elf and Tirion is a human. And no, I am not HALF an elf. I’ve looked it all up, and I can’t possibly have fel-tainted eyes with two pupils, one green and one slightly lighter green, long ears and eyebrows, a slim and elf-like figure and the ability to produce arcane magic without being taught if I was half-elf. So, I am not related to Highlord Fordring in any way. I think.
Oh no, you are related to him. Maybe not by blood, but you’re related.
You may not be kin, but you’re sure as hell kindred.
As for Grottee Metalbeard, I don’t know who that is! It sounds very gnomish. Or goblin? One or the other, anyway. Nobody else could possibly have “Metalbeard” as a last name without being a gnome or a goblin. And, seriously, I may be slightly shorter than the average height of a Blood Elf, but if you’re suggesting that I’m related to one of THOSE things…oh, no!
You’re a very literal person, Sarlin, anyone ever tell you that?
Also, just FYI, I’d lay even odds that Spazzle is tracking back your IP address as we speak. So if you’ve never loaded had your inbox flooded from porn mailing lists focusing on the lurid antics of THOSE THINGS… well, you’re probably about to.
Oh, and if Grottee’s reading this, don’t take it the wrong way. I just don’t like gnomes or goblins.
I don’t see how he could possibly take that the wrong way.
And while we’re also on the topic, “hooked up and gave birth to this letter”? That sentence, I must say, really put a horrifying image into my head. I mean, even worse than the Thalassian Brandy strutting through Hearthglen provocatively image. Because at least she’s GOOD LOOKING, you know!? And wow, is she good looking. I mean, sometimes I still ask myself if it was a dream. It probably was. Ha, good luck hoping, Sarlin. But Tirion Fordring and a GNOME? Or a goblin or WHATEVER. I would respectfully request that, in future, you refrain from planting such a horrific image in my head again.
You know what? You really started to save it. You looked like you were going to pull it back for a minute there, but then, nope, veered right on back to Tirion.
And for those of you wondering what she’s talking about with the whole Thalassian Brandy thing — OTHER THAN THE OBVIOUS — here, I refer you to a related question that Sarlin asked me on Ask.fm a good long while back. (I may dig up a few of my more memorable questions from that site to toss up here one of these days, too…)
Yes, Twitter’s character limit has been a burden for quite some time now. It’s hard to elaborate and emphasize the more important things, such as the war efforts,
The war effort goes well so far, despite occasional tactical setbacks. The Alliance has bought itself time, but their end is inevitable. FYV (140 characters)
gnoll necromancers,
Whoa, when the hell did gnolls learn how to be necromancers? Couldn’t Kel’Thuzard have left well enough alone? (110 characters)
magi with weird hats,
Yo, Mok, check out the stupid hat on that mage. Wait, what? Whose mother-in-law? Damn, sorry, dude. (99 characters)
stupid mages who think it’s okay to polymorph random strangers whenever they want (that was no reference to Shayari, by the way!)
I’m sure it wasn’t a reference to Faranell either, right? Methinks she dost protest too much. (93 characters)
and Light only knows what else with that limit in the way. I thought there would be a way to break it. Click the button with -284 characters and hope it would send. Impossible. It seems we live in a world where the only way forward is brevity. How unfortunate, would you not agree?
Yeah, I think you’re hitting pay dirt there, Sarls. Don’t know how we’re gonna get by. (86 characters)
Shayari also told me that she occasionally ports back and forth to the Undercity for mage training. Which, I mean, I’m not concerned about THAT or anything, but do you really think it’s a good idea to get her so close to the Banshee Queen? I mean, I don’t know if I’d made it at all obvious but I don’t trust that woman!
I don’t trust Sylvanas so much as I trust Shay’s right hook. I’d refer you to Faranell if you have any reservations about that one.
I mean, hey, at least I didn’t just say “No, I don’t LIKE her, therefore nobody else will!” Besides, who actually DOES like Sylvanas?
To be fair, I’m not necessarily the guy who should be coming down on someone for a poor showing in popularity contests.
Oh, and if you’re wondering, no, I haven’t had any real personal meetings with Sylvanas. There was one when I was pretty young, before I joined the Argent Dawn, but that was myself and a few other young soldiers. She just yelled at us for not killing enough humans.
See, right there. You just made me like Sylvanas. THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS TOO MANY DEAD HUMANS. Way to undercut your own point like two sentences later, Sarls. At this rate, you still have time to undercut at least six or seven thousand more assertions before this letter is over.
Oh, and before I finish up, I just have to point out that I noticed a certain Pandaren named Ben-Lin Cloudstrider is hosting anger management classes!
Well, Ben-Lin mostly counsels people one-on-one these days. She tried to hold a group session, but the class…didn’t go so great. At least according to most people, Ben included. Faranell, for some reason, still goes on about how awesome it was, but who knows what that guy’s thinking most days. Anyway, I can’t say for sure that Ben’s stopped the classes altogether, but I only ever went to that one.
I didn’t know that you were thinking about adopting! To be honest, I couldn’t even imagine you wanting to have children! Although I’m likely right in assuming that when Shayari finally came into your life, you realized just how much you were missing.
Um, no, I think you’re getting the order of events mixed up. I would have cut you a little slack there if you’d been one of the people caught up in all the damn time travel crap a little while back, both rounds of it — and holy crap do I never want to get mixed up with THAT kind of shit again — but as far as I know, you were just hanging out in Hearthglen all safe and secure.
But, okay, so the adoption thing was this idea I got into my head to maybe adopt Gurtash. He’d been hanging around Grommash Hold pretty regularly by then, and I was starting to work with him as a trainee, and I figured he was an orphan and all, what with his father having been killed in the line of duty up in Northrend, so I figured it might be good for me to just take him in outright. That was before Orphan Matron Battlewail decided to get all antsy and insisted I do the anger management class, and…well, that just got us into a big mess of red tape.
Anyway, that all got put on the backburner with everything going on in Pandaria, and then Shay turning up, and then the whole Mokvar thing and…you know, I don’t even want to get into it. Let’s just keep moving.
Being a father must be the most wonderful feeling in all worlds, wouldn’t you agree? It’s a shame that you lost seventeen years of poor Shay’s life, but you can make up for that now. Are you planning on adopting a baby?
I… no, no, I was never looking at adopting a baby. No babies. I had one specific kid in mind. How the hell did you read up on the adoption thing and miss the part where I specified who I was going to be adopting?
Are you adopting a little orc or a little troll? Maybe even a little Blood Elf? Ha, I jest. They’re truly insufferable as children.
I have bad news for you if you think that that’s specific to blood elf children.
Back to the anger management class. Is Ben-Lin still doing those?
Asked and answered, your honor.
Not that I have a HUGE anger problem, only sometimes I can be irrationally irate when the sounds of birds and flapping wings and even trickling water or the wind rustling grass or twigs, just the happy old noises, decide to all sound on what is known as “the morning after the night before”. Which often includes a LOT of alcohol.
I’m not completely sure what the fuck you’re talking about, but i’m beginning to get a vague sense that you and Tirion mesh well up there in Hearthglen in a variety of ways.
Mostly mead, although I do have a Gilnean friend who supplies me with brandy occasionally.
Thalassian, by any chance?
But anyway! Yes, the only downside to consuming so much alcohol is the “morning after the night before” effect which is a bi-daily event where every aspect of nature comes together and floats around my sore head shrieking with voices like nails across a shield. I mean, I don’t mind birds, but when they annoy me like that, they just HAVE to fucking die, you know what I mean? And that’s the benefit of having a bow. You don’t have to throw your sword and hope it doesn’t miss. I have to say, it’s a pretty great release of anger. You know that rage that simply cannot be repressed? Birds always seem to know when I experience it, because they glide well into firing range when I do.
I’m just going to tuck this little snippet away for the next time someone gets pissy with me about being grouchy and hostile with people.
And then I’m going to back away very, very carefully.
Keep hush on this, but once, I was aiming for an annoying bird and shot it in the wing, only to find it was actually a troll in bird form.
Heh. Hehehe. HeheheHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA hahaha…ha… heh…
BWAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!! Heehee…
Okay… okay… moving on…
So anyway, I’ve had to clean up bird corpses a lot recently, only I haven’t been great at cleaning up the evidence, so there’s a small pile of dead birds behind Mardenholde Keep. With some incinerated kittens, also. And even some penguins that appear to have their skulls bashed in. I guess this is soon going to be the place where people drag the corpses of dead animals that end up falling to the blade of hangovers.
Is it bad that my first thought on reading that was that if, say, an anonymous note were to find its way to Mylune, directing her to go check out what’s behind Mardenholde Keep… oh man, the spectacle that might be to behold!
And hey, even if I can’t take part in the session, can you PLEASE just all have another one anyway!? Like, seriously! Do you have any fucking idea how FUNNY that was!? I mean, look, I always knew that Tirion drank quite a bit but I never actually could make sense of those corpses until I read that! Although I was a little disheartened when I went to tell everybody and they all already knew. I was like “Where the fuck was I for the last however long this has been going on for”? And oh my LIGHT, what is Mylune’s problem! I thought she loved animals! I mean, I haven’t met her many times but she does seem quite…uh, cuddly? I mean, I like hugs but gee, I think I like breathing more. Oh, heh, and I mentioned Lor’Themar to Shay, too. Tell me, was his hair perfect that day, too? Huh. He always did seem pretty calm to me. Just prissy as fuck, you know?
This has been an installment in the Last Year in Garrosh’s Life series. But, hey, as long as Sarlin is endorsing that little exercise in unanesthetized dental surgery, here, go back and relive all the fun.
And also, if I might recommend it, maybe host the next one in that big gladiator’s or trial’s ring you got going on in Orgrimmar? You know, just so anybody who wants to come by for the giggles can do so.
Yeah, I think someone already had that idea.
Look, I’ll stop with this suggesting nonsense and outright say that I WILL PAY YOU to do another. Even though you’re probably rich out now what with being Warchief and all. Still. I mean, if it helps, I’ll send over 10,000 gold and it might even feed a village of hungry peons, or maybe be enough to invent an elixir that will give them a brain.
<looks over bill from Shayari’s latest shopping trip>
I’m listening.
I swear, though, the way you’re going on about this is making me want to make this a Patreon perk for clearing some non-trivial threshold.
I seem to have covered everything I’ve been wishing to bring up with you.
OH THANK THE SPIRITS I THINK WE’RE COMING UP ON THE HOME FUCKING STRETCH
I do hope that you don’t find any of this to be too demanding.
I’ll let you know once I regain feeling in my left leg after stabbing it repeatedly to keep from losing consciousness every 37 words.
I expect you have other issues to deal with besides the worries of a young Paladin, such as very incriminating photoes of dancing trolls or something. As opposed to “not so incriminating photoes”. Or “just slightly incriminating photoes”. The fel was up with THAT guy?
It’s funny you should ask. “That guy” just had another message delivered by courier:
It has come to my attention that both yourself and your daughter have been subjected to interminable, inane babbling in letter form from a young blood elf paladin in the service of Tirion Fording. Having reviewed her messages, I wish to know: what on Azeroth is UP with this chick?
–A Humble Peon
I wish I fucking knew, AHP. I wish I fucking well knew.
Oh, I did have a question!
I swear, it’s like the letter equivalent of one of those Earth Online machinimas, where you keep thinking the serial killer is finally dead, and HE KEEPS GETTING BACK UP AND COMING AFTER YOU SOME MORE.
But fear not, I will be brief.
Lady, the train left that station somewhere in the middle of volume three.
What the fuck is up with Bob? Who even IS that guy? And what is his fucking PROBLEM!? Gee, I mean, it’s pretty obvious he’s a troll and all (in EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD EVER) but whoa! I mean, c’mon. It’s not the just the harsh, real fact that he’s an asshole, but the more harrowing fact that he lacks a brain. The fuck. I mean, everybody KNOWS that the Lich King’s horse is “Invincible”. Invincible and INVISIBLE are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS! ARE YOU READING THIS, BOB!? YOU MIGHT LEARN A THING OR TWO! GRR, YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SO ANGRY.
You know, I can’t believe she’s actually making me contemplate the phrase “worth the wait,” but if this is how she’s finishing up, I hate to say it, but it really might be. BECAUSE FUCK YOU, BOB. Troll? Check. Asshole? Check? GODDAMN FUCKING IDIOT? Hell yes and triple check. PREACH, SISTER, PREACH.
Anyhow, I digress. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must replace this inkwell with a slightly larger one, since it only holds maybe just over half of the ink that I require to send out not just mailbag letters to the Horde’s Warchief, but also to stay in close contact with other friends and possibly relatives around Azeroth and Outland! It’s just rather a pain to refill it constantly.
And look at that, two more signatures for that petition from the ink vendors.
Meanwhile, I just had another message come in by courier. Apparently the night elves are declaring war on Sarlin for the sheer number of forests she’s singlehandedly leveled in order to supply herself with enough paper for these letters. And I quote: “We feel we may have misjudged your Warsong clan in focusing the brunt of our ire on their logging activities; clearly we were overlooking the true, direr threat.”
Still, feel free to scrape a few more pages out of Ashenvale, if you ask me. Just make sure you scrape some of the glitter off those trees before you start pulping. Thalassian Brandi could probably use it.
Fucking hell, though. Okay, let’s see what else we’ve got.
Sir, if somehow somewhere the f-word was banned and a spell kept anyone and everyone (including you) from saying it, what would you do? Would you be able to carry on a conversation or get mad without ever saying it or would this cause a cataclysmic event of Garrosh proportions?
–Ruekie
PS: This goes for shit too. I mean the S- word!
Well, Rook, in the unlikely event that something like that ever happened, I suppose I would have to do the adult, responsible thing. Which means, of course, that I would hunt down the fucking fucknose motherfucker who cast that fucking spell, grab them by their fucking neck, then beat some goddamn fucking sense into their stupid fuckwit ass until they turned that motherfucking spell the fuck OFF. That’s what the fuck I’d do, dammit.
And shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker tits, while we’re at it.
Censorship fucking sucks, kids. Fight the power.
Mogor glad you got people working on it. Elements still not happy, so Mogor hope they work fast. Still, Mogor happy to find other fun things. Lantresor not writing in this time. Lantresor say he has a “secret mission” to take care of. Mogor not get it, but Lantresor smart orc. He not in trouble.
Mogor write in to give you battle report. Mogor and some ogres of Burning Skull went south to swamp, hung out with Stonemaul ogres. Mogor met Draz’Zilb. Draz’Zilb so smart. He working on potion, will make Mogor smarter, stop heads arguing and big words confusing Mogor. Anyway, we hang out in swamp until funny pinkskins arrive, attack village. Mogor think Mogor saw green shirt with yellow anvil on pinkskins, but memory fuzzy. Draz’Zilb say they sent by the Allianz. More come, too many to fight all at once, but Mogor set trap in trees near village. Mogor and ogres climbed big tree and hung in branches; when pinkskins approached Mogor and ogres, we let go of branches, fall down on them. We got the drop on them, ha!
Draz’Zilb say he continue to work on potion and Mogor should write to tell you about attack. Draz’Zilb expect pinkskins come back with even more next time. Mogor disappointed; the Allianz tougher in Mogor’s younger days. Now they all numbers, no brains. Not like orcs. Not like ogres.
That all for now. Mogor see you next time.
–Mogor the Ogre
Oh, hey, Mogor. The Ogre.
Um.
…
Yeah, sorry, I needed to take a second to wonder what happened to my life that these are the conversations I end up having. Anyway.
So… yeah, it’s good that you got over your little elemental hissy fit. You keep on listening to Lantresor, Mogor. The…ogre. Or…or, yeah, better yet, keep hanging out down in Brackenwall Village. You’ll probably feel right at home there, what with all the other mogor–ogres. OGRES.
…
<sigh>
I swear there was a point in my life when it wasn’t a giant fucking cartoon.
Anyway, continuing on.
That’s good that you’re spending some time with Draz’Zilb down there. I haven’t talked to him in a while, but he was always pretty sharp, so he’s probably going to be able to help you with the– wait.
Hang on.
You mean to tell me… Draz’Zilb’s got a potion he can cook up…that makes a pair of bickering heads stop yammering, and shut up and get along, and stop being fucking stupid and confused all the time? DUDE ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT MOFO’S BEEN SITTING ON A FUCKING DONTRAG AND UTVOCH ANTIDOTE ALL THIS TIME AND HE HASN’T FUCKING TOLD ME???!! ARE YOU SHITTING ME??!!!
OKAY, so HERE’S what you’re gonna do, Mogor the ogre — you’re going to fucking FOLLOW Draz’Zilb’s ass around and stay after him until he whips up a GIANT SIZED dose of that potion of his, and then you’re going to get the BIGGEST FUCKING BARREL YOU CAN FIND, and LOAD IT UP WITH AS MUCH OF THAT POTION AS IT’LL HOLD, AND THEN YOU’RE GOING TO HIGH-TAIL IT BACK TO ORGRIMMAR WITH THAT SHIT. THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO FUCKING DO, MOGOR.
…
THE OGRE.
<sigh>
More soon. When I can stomach it.
[As always, keep those letters coming! Next mailbag November 2! E-mail the Warchief using the link at the top of the right sidebar, or use the handy form below:]
Monday GUEST mailbag: Shayari
Okay, so as I promised, since everybody’s been all curious about Shayari, today’s your chance to hear from her directly. Let me kick it over to her and see what you people have come up with. And whether I’m going to have to go out and crack a few skulls later.
Hi everyone! I’m still not sure how Pops convinced me to do this. This whole blog thing seems kind of lame to me, but I guess it couldn’t be any worse than Twitter.
Let’s see what everyone has to say!
I have hesitated long to write this, since it may seem presumptuous of me, but I ask you to take it that I mean this with the greatest respect.
You can certainly deal with undesired advances (being your father’s daughter), I would simply caution you in response to desired advances. It is not my business, nor do I especially desire to know with whom you might choose to be intimate, but you may trust this- intimacy is dangerous, and one who desires yours may be a deceiver, a flatterer, or one seeking to take advantage of you for your father’s sake.
It happened to me (long ago), and I would not see it happen to you if I can spare you such pain.
Also, I know it may be natural to want to rebel against your father, but he does care for you, and as Warchief, he is in a delicate position. He must balance many competing burdens, and anything you (and we who follow him) can do to reduce those burdens will only help him.
My apologies for the lengthy missive, and I offer you such friendship as I can, and whatever help or advice as you may want (even none, if I seem too much like a meddling old aunt).
–Sintra E’Drien (and her mate Lyssa Nightblossom)
Ps. If you ever happen to visit Nagrand, you might wish to consider visiting Garrosh’s Greatmother- I understand she makes delicious lemon-squares.
So, hang on a second… I don’t even know who you are, and you’re… um… did you really just come out of nowhere and start giving me advice about who I hook up with?
Who are you again?
And I mean, okay, yeah, Greatmother Geyah’s lemon squares, I get it, I know, I’ve heard about the lemon squares, I’ve been in Orgrimmar a few months and for real, spirits help me, every day with the lemon squares. To hear Pops talk about them, I should maybe go hook up with a tray of them, because, you know. I’ll have what he’s having. So I get it. The lemon squares. Even though lime would totally be better, but sure, you go, Greatmom Geyah. Or I guess Great-Greatmom Geyah, in my case? Except I guess she’s not even Pops’ actual greatmother, so I’m not even really related to her, so it doesn’t really matter what call her, so whatevs.
Who are you again? For real.
I mean, trust me, when Pops reads this letter, I’m pretty sure that’s going to push the ol’ enrage timer a lot more than anything I do, and that’s really kind of saying something, because some days I actually work on it. There are diagrams and everything. (I can’t help it — he just gets so wound up! It’s a real hoot sometimes.)
I tried asking your father this recently, but I didn’t expect to get the chance to ask you directly! You always seem so fashionable, what are your favorite places to shop? Anywhere you would recommend?
–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City
P.S. What’s the real story on your father’s love life? Any juicy details you can share? He’s usually pretty vague and evasive about it. You must know the real scoop! Inquiring minds want to know!
Okay, for real, are all these letters going to be about who’s doing who? Because I did not sign up for this. If I wanted a non-stop parade of gross and creepy questions that I can never un-read, I would get an Ask.fm account.
Plus it’s not like Pops gives me updates on whatever groupie he’s doing whatever with, which is probably just as well, because ew. Not enough therapy in the world. The last thing I need to think of is old people doing it. How am I supposed to eat dinner with that in my head? Ew and double ew.
But, as far as the shopping goes, now you’re talking my language! My favorite shop by far was Threads of Fate back in Dalaran. I used to have a little part-time job helping tend the shop on weekends, mostly so I could get the employee discount, and believe me, I used that perk up. When I realized I needed to get out of town, I definitely made a point of packing up as many ToF things as I could right off. It’s pretty much off limits now, though. Obviously. Screw Jaina.
It’s funny you’re asking about this, actually, since you live in Silvermoon. That’s probably my favorite place to go now! There are a couple good shops in the Bazaar: Silvermoon Finery and Keelen’s Trustworthy Tailoring. Finery is the more upscale place. Pricey but really good stuff. Keelen’s has good clothes too (even if the name of the place is kind of lame), not as fancy, but you can find some really nice stuff there, too. Also much less expensive. Like really inexpensive. I’m not sure how they manage that, to be honest.
Oh, and there’s also Kodohide Leatherworkers down in the Drag in Orgrimmar. For leather goods, obviously. They have some pretty cool jackets and bags and a couple other things I won’t get into here because Pops is probably going to read it and why invite the yelling.
My name is Mirembe. I’m one of your dad’s trainees (I’m the one who’s never around, if that helps) and proud meat shield warrior! Anyway, onto my question, since if you’re anything like your dad, you don’t like long letters.
When I was hanging around Nagrand, killing ogres on Lazyeye’s command (Sorry Mr. Lantressor!), I ran into Drae Drann *all spelling attempts have been scribbled out hastily* Space Goat guy in a cage in Mr. Lantressor’s camp. At least, I think he was a Space Goat. He was kinda lumpy and tentacle-y, but in all the wrong places. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he was kinda really dumb! I may have smacked him with my shield to shut him up, but I think I smacked him a little too hard because he fell down. Who was that guy, anyway?
Aka’mogash,
–Mirembe
PS: If you’re in Orgrimmar, please please PLEASE let me know how Gurtash is doing! I heard about what happened in Blackrock Spire and I’ve been worrying myself sick over him, and the energy-bandage dudes keep telling me it’s because I’m fleshy. 🙁
Oh, hey, one of Pip’s friends. He’s doing…well, okay, I guess. I’m not a healer or anything. No real news. He’s still out cold and resting over near the tauren part of town. So I guess he’s stable, there haven’t been any new problems, just…not awake. I know Pops has been going over to check on him, and I’ve popped over a couple times, and there have been some others going over. So he’s not suffering from a lack of eyes on him. I guess we just have to wait it out and see.
How were things back in Nagrand? I haven’t been back there for a few years, but I grew up in Telaar. Have you visited there? Come to think of it, I guess you probably wouldn’t have been too welcome if you’re an orc. I mean, I’m half-orc and they didn’t always seem to thrilled too have me around, so…
But so, this lumpy draenei guy. That would be one of the Broken, by the way, one of the draenei who were all…physically screwed up when the planet went kablooey — most of the people in Telaar were Broken, along with a handful of garden variety draenei. So I guess this guy would have been one of them. I guess he could have been one of the Windyreed Lost Ones, too, but I don’t see why one of them would have been in a cage over in… oh. Oh! OH! I think I know who that was! You met Corki!
And damn, I’m sorry! You met Corki!
I mean, Corki’s a really sweet kid, but, spirits help me, he’s dense. Like not even just your plain old regular dense. Just… just… Let me put it this way. You know those Dontvoch and Untrag guys, or whoever? I’m pretty sure they could outsmart Corki. Like, either of them, individually, without even getting the benefit of rubbing their bumpy heads together to activate their Wonder Twins joint mind or whatever. I’m actually glad Corki’s okay, more or less, and not, like, dead from walking off the side of one of the cliffs around Telaar because he saw a butterfly or something.
I’m not surprised Corki’s still getting himself captured by ogres. It used to happen, like, every few weeks as long as I can remember. It was almost like a hobby for him. I felt so bad for his dad, Arechron — he would keep getting these ransom notes from the ogres and get stuck having to pay gold to get Corki back, and then a few days later Corki would up and get caught again. I know Pops complains sometimes about how expensive I can be, but that’s nothing compared to how much Corki cost poor Arechron in ransom fees.
Lok’tar, Daughter of Hellscream,
I would know: what is your favourite beast? If you wish to find one in the wilds, I believe the Mok’Nathal of the Blade’s Edge Mountains would be able to help you. You’d have to earn their respect first, though, and that wouldn’t be easy; believe me, I know.
Strength and Honour,
–Rexxar, Beastmaster and Champion of the Horde
Hi Rexxar! I’m pretty sure we’ve never met, but I remember hearing about you during the last months before I moved to Dalaran. Even though they steered clear of you, what with you being Horde and all, the hunters back in Telaar used to talk about you with a lot of respect. Way more than they had for that Nesingwary guy. I don’t think they ever really knew what to make of him. Anyway, say hi to Misha for me! I hear she’s a cutie. As 600-pound fur-bearing instruments of death go.
You know, I’m not sure what my favorite animal would be. I used to ride talbuks once in a while when I was younger, and they’re pretty, but not exactly snuggly. Since I’ve been in Orgrimmar, wyverns and worgs have grown on me a lot, actually. A worg could be pretty cool. Or a wyvern, but I almost feel like I already have one, with the way Mortimer follows me around sometimes.
I’ve always liked birds a lot, though. When I was a little girl, we found a baby windroc that had fallen from its mother’s nest. I took care of it for a while until it was strong enough to go back into the wild. And I have a pretty cool bird now, too! He’s a hyacinth macaw. I named him Kalec, because he’s flappy and blue and he parrots back whatever I say to him! I know that won’t mean much to you, but trust me, it’s going to go over like gangbusters with the Sunreavers.
So I guess I’m not sure. Keeping my options open for now, I guess?
What’s it like to have a complete loser for a dad?
–Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
Oh, hi, Varry. I think you might have sent this letter to the wrong place. Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure it gets forwarded to Anduin.
6 − 6 × 6 = 0
Discuss!
–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery
No, no, Bobby, I think you got your equation mixed up. Here, let me fix it for you:
(your penis size) + (your IQ) × (number of times you’ve satisfied a woman) = 0
There! I hope that clears things up. Don’t be embarrassed, math is hard.
What a privilege it is to be able to contact you directly! I was sure I showed great enthusiasm in my letter to your father, and that our paths would cross one day, but I never did anticipate it leading to this, especially so quickly! I am honoured to have this opportunity, daughter of Hellscream.
Introductions! My name is Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker or, as I previously stated, Sarlin. I currently live at Hearthglen in the Western Plaguelands and, you’ll be pleased to hear, that the place has thrived with magic becoming less feared and more valuable! Not that it’s an invitation, of course. Merely a point that portals are always available at my beck and call, for a generous fee. I’ll be quite honest, while the Argent Crusade has the righteous reputation as the noble and faithful saviours of Azeroth we are, there hasn’t been a lot happening here lately. We normally just lounge around, chatting, drinking, fixing armour, staring at our weapons and keeping an eye on the towers. Although, rest assured, there’s always guards at the front gates and patrolling the Plaguelands, just in case we, you know, get run over by gnolls or something. Funny story, there were gnoll necromancers here some time back, and one of the magi (Lisp, I think his name was?) was actually providing them with tools to raise the dead. Now, he was thwarted by a certain orc warrior not long ago, and was rewarded by Highlord Fordring. Still, I feel like I was the ONLY one out of everybody in the Argent Crusade who was still sober enough to ask herself the question: “Why the fuck is he giving necromancy tools to GNOLLS!?” Gee, what next? Will murlocs start joining the Burning Legion? So, that’s the general idea of how things are being run these days. I won’t argue with the drinking. Sometimes, you really need it, too. Miss Daria L’Rayne is quite a fabulous partner to drink with, too. Although she has been drinking a lot lately. And when I see her, she seems exhausted. In fact, most of the time, when I go to talk to her, she puts her hand up over her ears and begs me to stop, and when I try to ask her what’s bothering her, she collapses in a heap, sobbing. Very unusual behaviour! I just can’t get to the bottom of why she would be so miserable and yet not be willing to talk about it. And, come to think of it, I don’t really see her sober at all anymore. Although, she is Tirion’s advisor and I don’t get to see her much for that reason. I guess it’s a full time job. I hope she’s alright.
Anyway, that’s beside the point. No, I mentioned a few things to your father on the topic of you, ah, fitting in. I can relate in more ways than one. I may be a Blood Elf, but I was raised by a Night Elf in Teldrassil. Sadly, like you, I was banished from the lush forests and placed into neutral territory. My dear Kal’dorei mother fell in battle not two years later, and I was brought back the Horde, left wandering foreign soil, confronting alien races and wondering where those weary, young feet would take me, if they could bear my weight. I know how it is, trying to find your own place. And, as you may have learned, Blood Elves are not exactly taken seriously by many of the other racial leaders. This is mostly down to our prissy regent-lord, Lor’Themar Theron. You know, ponytail, braid. Not a SINGLE hair out of place. That’s probably how he lost an eye, come to think of it. He was too busy fixing his hair to realize that there was a fucking invasion happening. Rest assured, many of the other Sin’dorei are more attributing, in more ways than one. We’re strong, lithe, quick on our feet, faithful and exceptionally skilled in magic. That is, if we know how to control our thirsts for it. But anyhow, I digress.
No, I just wondered of your exploits since you met your father and became Horde-affiliated. How you’ve been settling in. What troubles you’ve faced. Coming from Dalaran and being landed into dusty old Orgrimmar can’t have been fun, huh? Have you ever been to Silvermoon City? It’s so wonderful, here! I remember Liadrin used to spend most of her time in Farstrider Square, training the Blood Knights. She’s nice. And hey, the Tauren Chieftains are here, too! Which, really, I don’t care much for them. Personally, that Sig Nicious guy has more arm hair than he does brains, but who cares! They’re famous! And aside that, there’s a lush, golden forest out there as well.
Or, if you wanted to feel more at home, there’s always Mulgore. I find that it’s quite similar to Nagrand, in many ways. Although, be wary of the mountains. There are rumours of oversized cannibal critters with guns, chainsaws and the like up there. Probably just a story to keep young whippersnappers like US in our place. Pfft. Like I’m afraid of a rabbit with a gun. Still. They have been said to absorb sanity, which makes me wonder if they’re, you know, actually Old Gods in disguise. When in doubt, blame the Old Gods, amirite?
Hey, if you ever, like, wanted to hang out, just let me know! Trust me, I’m a lot more fun in person. I mean, not to soak up in sterotypes, but I can do AMAZING hairstyles. Oh, and my fashion sense? FABULOUS. I even made earrings with the Argent Crusade icon on them, just so everyone knows to withdraw the swords when I decide to stroll through the likes of Ironforge or whatever. That way, I don’t have a tabard flapping around and I can still look pretty good. Oh, and guess what I have! I met a bronze dragon a while ago (babbling idiot, kept talking about how we were all doomed by demons and shit like that) who handed me this package before departing. It’s called a S.E.L.F.I.E camera. You can take these things called “selfies” with it! Oh, and mine’s got a diamond on it, too. Or is it a cubic zirconia? Anyway.
I just have one last question. I, uh, spilled my inkwell. Ignore the smudges. How are you getting along with your father?
May the Light protect you, good magus, and all you hold most dear to you. I eagerly await your response.
–Sarlin
Wow.
Um.
Hang on, I’m going to grab some kafa and try to get through that again. I’m pretty sure I zoned out at some point on the first try. Somewhere around the part where oh my Light.
So, stand by.
Okay, here we go again with a little liquid fortitude. PSL FTW, right? (Honestly, if I’d known the Horde had Starbulls, I probably would have bailed on the Silver Covenant years ago.)
So… wow, Sarlin. That’s…that’s impressive. Yeah, I can’t imagine why that Daria girl drinks so much. She might have a problem and someone should probably try talking to her about and a propos of nothing does anyone know how diligent the bartenders are at the Broken Tusk about checking IDs? Just a random thought. Don’t mind me.
I guess I’ve been getting along with Pops pretty okay. It was kind of weird and awkward at first. He didn’t really come to see me a lot when I first got to Orgrimmar — that is, after he met me. When I first got to Orgrimmar, he wasn’t around, because he was off in Pandaria on business. I mostly spent time with Liadrin then. You’re right, she’s pretty cool. But then after Garry came back and Liadrin introduced me, I think he was mostly pretty shocked. I don’t think he really believed I was his daughter at first, and then he wanted to send me off to study at the Undercity. And I guess I get it, it was probably a lot to get dropped on him, and maybe he just needed some time to get used to the idea. Still, after the way things happened in Dalaran, I suppose I was kind of hoping he’d give me this big welcome and take me in like the people there never really did. Or the people back in Telaar, even. They didn’t really talk about me being half orc, but you could always kind of tell…well… yeah, anyway. So I guess the point is that I probably had this whole dream scenario in my head. Which was probably silly of me. You know, setting up for more disappointment.
Things have been better, though. I’m settled in again here in Orgrimmar, and just porting over to the UC for lessons. Pops cleared out a room upstairs in Grommash Hold for me to have, with this little balcony that overlooks the Valley of Strength. Oh and here’s the thing, about whether it’s been hard moving to Orgrimmar — I don’t really mind it. You have to remember, I grew up in Telaar, which is really just a poor village built around what’s left of some old draenei buildings. So it’s not like I was used to having luxurious surroundings. Don’t get me wrong, Dalaran was amazing, and I love Silvermoon, but Orgrimmar hasn’t been bad. It’s dustier than Nagrand, yeah, but it’s still sort of…familiar, I guess. Eventually it might even start to feel like home.
It could still seriously use a few coats of paint, though. And don’t even ask me what’s up with all the spikes all over everything, because really.
Hello, young Shayari,
I am Lantresor of the Blade, chieftain of the Burning Skull Ogre Clan and formerly part of the Burning Blade Orc Clan. Like you, I am the child of a draenei and an orc, but my parentage is in the reverse — my mother was the orc, my father the draenei. My question is this: do you know anything about my father? I myself know only that his name was D’Kaan, he was a hunter of sorts, he lived in the village of Telaar, just like you, and he was dead by the time I passed the tests to become a Blademaster. I have had no luck seeking information elsewhere.
Also, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you – I assure you that I know and understand many of the things you have gone through, having experienced them myself. Be brave, child of two worlds; you are not alone.
–Lantresor of the Blade
P.S. Whatever you may have heard to the contrary, I am not trying to pursuing you romantically! Even if I was interested, I would know better than to seek a relationship with a mage – too much potential to become scorched earth, I say.
I know, Lanny, I’m too hot for a lot of people to handle. It’s okay.
I remember hearing about you back in Telaar. I picked up the fact that there had been other half-draenei-half-orcs, but it wasn’t something anyone liked to talk about, or even acknowledge if they could help it. Your name came up a couple times. Mostly fearfully. I don’t know what you did to put the fear of the spirits into those people, but I’ll tell you, whatever it was, it worked. I don’t know if I know much about your father, although his name does sound familiar. I think it might have come up in passing when Arechron would talk about some of the weird plant-based life, like the sporelings, that developed in Zangarmarsh after the world shattered. He would talk about these other…well… plant people, basically, that used to exist. Botanical something-or-other, maybe? Anyway, Arechron would sometimes talk about the rangari hunters who used to fight them, and how if any of the hunters survived the shattering they would probably take an interest in what’s happened in Zangar. That’s when I think he would have mentioned D’Kaan, along with a few other hunter people like him.
I don’t know how much that helps. I hope you can find out more about him, though. I know what it’s like not to know much about your family. I’m still trying to find things out myself. I’m still getting to know my dad, obviously, and I get the sense that there’s a whole bunch of other family history I’m still not in on.
Speaking of family history, does Pops usually get stuck answering so much of this stuff? Like on a regular basis? No wonder he gets cranky with people sometimes.
Well, anyway, thanks for writing in, everyone, even if a lot of you seem kinda weird. I guess this is where I should wrap this up.
And I guess this is where I should start looking up addresses for people who need a personal talking to.
More soon.
[Obligatory reminder: The Warchief’s next mailbag is coming up in two weeks, on Monday, October 5. Send in your letters either by e-mail (link at the top of the right sidebar!) or using the form below. Possible other guest mailbags in the future — time will tell!]
The cost of doing business
So, some of you might remember the other day when Lantresor of the Blade wrote to me saying – among other things – that he was coming up to Orgrimmar to see about signing on with the Horde. Seemed like a pretty good deal, what with Lantresor being a major badass by all accounts, plus him being pretty much the head honcho of a clan of ogres. Which, yeah, maybe not the deepest thinkers in the world, but for real, have you seen some of the hired help I’ve already got on staff? I have Dontrag and Utvoch on payroll. I’ve got no business throwing stones.
Anyhow, I got Marogg the infantry chef to whip up a welcoming dinner for Lantresor and his crew, but we kind of overshot a little. See, when Lantresor sent his letter, he mentioned forming a new “Burning Skull” ogre clan, and wanting to sign on… then he said he got that Mogor ogre dude to port “us” to what I’m guessing was Ratchet (where, if epic limericks are to be believed, there once was a goblin from)… and that “we” would arrive in Grommash Hold soon.
And see, that’s great and all. Problem was, “us” and “we” didn’t give me much of an idea of how many people “us” and “we” were, and based on everything else Lantresor was saying, as far as I knew, dude was gonna roll up on Orgrimmar with his whole damn ogre clan. And seriously, have you ever tried feeding a bunch of ogres? Pro tip: don’t. Trust me. I’ve been to Brackenwall Village a bunch of times to see Draz’Zilb. You know why the place always looks so run down? Because motherfuckers don’t have time to fix shit when motherfuckers gotta spend their whole day scraping up enough food to cover their daily requirement of 20,000 calories a head. Including a bunch of dudes who’ve got more than one head.
Anyway, point is, I had some indeterminate-sized ogre contingent rolling on into town, and I knew I was going to have to FEED these stupid assholes, because, you know, I’m not going to be fucking RUDE. (Greatmother didn’t raise no ungracious hosts. My heretofore unboxed ears would not survive.) So I had to have Marogg err on the side of safety and crank out enough grub to feed a small army of ogres. Which… let me tell you, that’s not gonna be a fun line item to see in next month’s budget report. I might have to get some slaughterhouses up and running just to offset the dent this puts in the meat supply. Maybe in the Barrens. Seems like we’ve got some spare real estate out there. Anyhow, I digress.
Bottom line, Marogg pulled in a bunch of culinary personnel to help – I even got our ol’ pal Ji Lunchbox and some of his panda buddies chipping in on this – and managed to whip up enough eats to cover our bases. And so, who shows up?
Lantresor and Mogor.
The end. THAT was the fucking “we.” Lantresor and his double-headed, half-brained plus-fucking-one.
FUCKED OVER ONCE AGAIN BY AMBIGUOUS PRONOUN ANTECEDENTS. SEE? SEE? IMPRECISE GRAMMAR CAN COST A SMALL FORTUNE. STAY IN FUCKING SCHOOL, KIDS.
Um. I mean “fucking school” as in… like… you know… just school. Not school for fucking. Because for one thing, I mean, I get enough hate mail as it is, without advocating THAT certificate program. And for another, not for nothing, but it would be kind of a futile teaching exercise. Either you got it or you don’t. Sorry, nerds.
MOVING ON.
Anyway, point is, we massively overshot there, so, you know, if you happen to be in the Orgrimmar neck of the woods, and you like Kickin’ Chimaerok Chops, well, I’ve got leftovers. Like… a LOT of leftovers. Like make-the-week-after-Pilgrim’s-Bounty-look-like-fucking-NOTHING kind of leftovers. And the faster they get eaten, the sooner I can relieve the frost mages I’ve got on duty round the clock keeping the shit from spoiling. And MAN OH MAN, you can practically HEAR Ji high-tailing it over here with a fork and knife in hand, can’t you?
So where was I? Oh. Yeah. Lantresor.
So yeah, the initial meeting went pretty well. I don’t know if either of us knew what to make of the other at first, but after a little while we started exchanging stories about ways we’ve each messed with Jorin Deadeye, and that broke the ice right quick. We still have some odds and ends to work out, but it looks like Lantresor and his crew are going to come on board, which is only going to help shore up defenses on a bunch of different fronts. Plus, Lantresor apparently knows a handful of blademasters from the old Burning Blade clan who are still hiding out in Outland, and he seems pretty confident he could bring them over as well. So, a lot of potential win going on.
The only awkward part has been how Lantresor kept asking about Shayari. And, um, you know… after Khizzara turned on the warning lights on that one, just to be safe, I made sure Shay was out of town when Lantresor was due to arrive. By… well… sending her off on a shopping trip. Which… seemed like a decent enough idea at the time. Until she got home with a fucking kodo carrying the stuff she bought. Including the kodo. This one’s gonna leave a mark, I can tell.
Meanwhile, Lantresor keeps asking after Shay. I may just have to bite the cannonball and try to get Garona over here.
I’m getting too old for this shit.
More soon.
Monday mailbag
Time to dip back into the ol’ mailbag. Let’s see what we’ve got this time around…
Firstly, I thank you for accepting Grimjaw into the Kor’kron fold, and hope he will serve you well; secondly, my apologies for the depressive content of my letters – it was not my intention to “bring the room down”.
Instead, I will share some good news with you: my son has taken to training as a warrior and will be ready to take his Om’riggor – his rite of passage – next year, and my daughter has taken to learning the shamanic arts. I have high hopes for both of them.
Also, there’s something I think you should hear, Warchief. Another of my wolves – Golmash, I call him, after your grandfather, whose legend is known even to me – has a black pelt and a set of eerie green eyes. And I don’t mean in the dark, slimy green of a swamp so much as a strange, otherworldly glare. I didn’t think anything of it the first time I noticed, but since then I’ve been feeling strangely ill-at-ease whenever he looks at me. I did some research into the nature of these eyes and what I’ve found… is both confusing and disturbing.
On one hand, the eye colour is not unique or unnatural (so far as anyone can tell); on the other hand, only one particular wolf dynasty has ever had them, and rarely so. This dynasty, dubbed “moonwolf”, lived in Shadowmoon Valley until the arrival of the Legion and the corruption of the land that ensued, and the last known scion of this lineage was Skychaser, the companion of Ner’zhul. The fate of the fallen Great Shaman is well-known, but no one knows what happened to his wolf.
I have never had any encounter with that particular lineage, and so far as I can tell, Golmash is strictly of Frostwolf and Nagrandeur descent; thus, the cause of his haunting eyes remains a mystery. How should I proceed from here, Warchief? I am loathe to create a problem where there is none, but something in my gut tells me sinister things are afoot.
Yours faithfully,
–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master
Hey again, Ogunaro. Grimjaw’s gotten settled in over at the Kor’kron stables. I’ve been over to have a look at him, and he IS a pretty fine looking wolf. Like I mentioned last time, I’ve got something in mind for him, but it’s going to be a little bit before I get that going. The timing is kind of up in the air for the time being, but hopefully things will fall into place soon. I’ll keep you updated as things go.
As for this mystery wolf of yours (appreciate the shout-out to Golmash, by the way… well, unless it turns out there’s something seriously fishy going on with him, in which case, gee, thanks for dragging my grandfather into it)… that does sound pretty weird. I can’t say I’ve run into any glowy green-eyed wolves myself, and I’ve ridden more than my share over the years. Still, I don’t want to start running around cooking up crazy stories and conspiracy theories, especially when you sound like you’ve got a good sense of the line this wolf came from. So for right now, what I’d recommend is keeping a close watch on him and maybe keep him apart from your other wolves when you’re not able to monitor them. Is there anything strange about his behavior? How does he get along with the other wolves? Or with you, for that matter? Anything you’ve noticed about him that’s different from most wolves, OTHER than the green eyes?
This is definitely worth monitoring, but I don’t want to start panicking straight away. The Ner’zhul connection is creepy as fuck, but I also don’t put a lot of stock in ghost stories. Unless the ghost in question is one of those bankers down at the Undercity, because funny enough, those dudes actually DO come up with some pretty good stock tips. FYI.
Grats on your kids coming along with their training, by the way. Are they working with anyone in the military trainee program, or has it been individual class training so far? I’ve got a bunch of trainees studying under me, but then you probably already knew that if you read the blog. Your son’s coming up on his om’riggor next year, huh? He must be pretty advanced at this point, in that case. I’m hoping some of mine will be ready for the rite before too long, but right now that’s pretty dependent on…well, a bunch of things. No need to belabor ’em with you. I’m sure you know the drill. Next year would be pretty nice, though.
Anyway, I’ll keep you posted on what’s up with Grimjaw. And the other wolf thing.
It seems serendipity brought me and your little “trainee” together. But I’ll elaborate on that in a moment. First, let me tell you that Boulderfist purchased our computer equipment from a rather enterprising goblin shaman and obtained our Internet as spoils of war from the Shadow Council. How they can be smart enough to create working Internet here on Outland and yet foolish enough to serve the Burning Legion is beyond me, but then there it is. Now about your trainee…
I was naturally curious when several of my ogres came wandering up the hill to me complaining about an outbreak of headaches. As it happens, they had incurred these headaches from being repeatedly smashed in the face (and other places) with a shield by an eager, cheerful little orc girl with a potbelly worthy of a ogre woman (few of them that there are). How fortunate that she isn’t as good at killing ogres as she thinks; I settled for reproaching my men for being stupid enough to let a orcling child knock the stuffing out of them. Some claim the ordeal has left them dumber – but frankly, dear Hellscream, I doubt that very much, and if it has, it hasn’t made that much difference.
At any rate, even allowing for the fact that she didn’t know about our truce, as I discovered when I caught her lurking around the Laughing Skull Ruins watching that brute of a shaman Mogor pounding a group of fledgling Alliance “heroes” into the ground and confronted her, there is a certain principle about truces that has to be upheld – namely, the principle that you don’t attack the people you have a truce with. So when I learned of this Jorin Blackeye or whatever his name was continuing to send adventurers after my ogres, I decided a response was called-for.
We lured him out of Garadar under the pretense of discussing a peace settlement concerning the village of Halaa with the Kurenai Broken, and there I confronted him about his actions. I had hoped to settle things in a reasonable way, but not only did he spout some nonsense about “no forgiveness” and whatnot, he took the time to pass comment about my Burning Blade heritage before he started to walk away. After that… well, it’s very embarassing. He sort of walked right into my blade. Face-first, no less. And my blade brushed against his one good eye. All completely by accident. How very careless of the both of us.
Anyway, given that he was using that eye for no-good purposes, perhaps it is an acceptable casualty. I hear he has not dared show his face in public since then – with an injury like that, I know I wouldn’t – and that his clan are electing a new leader. Hopefully they’ll be more understanding from now on.
By the way, speaking of Mogor, the brute and I have reached an accord: a permanent end to the fighting between our clans and the merging of Boulderfist and Warmaul into a single clan, as it was long ago, under the name Burning Skull (somehow, Laughing Blade just doesn’t have the same ring to it). We’re interested in signing on with your Horde – I admit, I’m curious about meeting another of my own kind, even if she is very different from me, and the contribution I can offer you seems like a fitting gesture.
Mogor has portalled us to a small goblin harbour in the Barrens. We’ll be in Grommash Hold soon to discuss terms.
–Lantresor of the Blade
Okay, you know what? Not going to lie. Not a whole lot registered other than the part about Jorin getting a little what-for. In the face. Jorin Blackeye indeed. Heh. HeheheHAH. HAHAHAHA. Such a dick.
So wait, did you actually get his eye, or JUST graze him, or what? I get that you did some damage, but eyes are tricky territory, and even a little extra flick of the blade one way or the other could… hmm… you know, come to think of it, probably best not to dwell on it. I’ll probably end up hearing through channels soon enough.
So speaking of trainees, you realize that when Mirembe sees your letter, of all the stuff you brought up, all she’s going to notice is the “potbelly” part, right? I can almost hear the letter landing in my inbox now.
Also, eesh, surprise guests. I better have Marogg whip up some food to greet these people with when they get here. I wonder if he still has any of that Darkspear rice sitting around for his jambalaya. Pretty tasty stuff, actually, as long as the rice wasn’t sitting around trollville for too long, in which case you end up getting this weird dizzy feeling if you eat too much of it.
I was perusing this here blog and I noticed the letter you got from Lantresor. Now, readin’ between the lines here I gotta say… it sounds like that is one lonely half-orc-half-draenei dude lookin’ to get all buddy-buddy with the father of the — *looks around nervously and makes a circuit of the room listening for stealthy swoosh sounds* — youngest and most attractive of the only two lady half-orc-half-draenei girls in the world. Which makes me question his motivations, if you hear what I’m sayin’ and know what I mean.
Not that Shayari can’t handle herself or deal with unwanted attention, but… I’m just sayin’…
Also, not for nothin’, but I hear that Lantresor is a huge complainer. An acquaintance of mine worked with him for a while, and all he ever did was whine, whine, whine. “How long are we going to stay here?” And, “I miss the grassy plains of Nagrand!” Oh boo hoo hoo! Drove everyone else bonkers.
Have a good one!
–Khizzara.
Oh, PS: I dropped a buncha flowers off for Gurtash. Wish I could do something more, but as a mage I’d probably only make things worse. And as a goblin, I might uh, make him explode. Kinda counterproductive for the healin’.
Yeah, that Lantresor guy is…
Hang on.
…
<thinks>
…
Oh FUCKING HELL, SERIOUSLY?
I… he… you mean… HOW THE FUCK OLD IS THAT GUY, ANYWAY?
I’m… suddenly feeling a strange craving for dead ogres.
Wait, that would mean giving Jorin the satisfaction. And not for anything, but I refuse to live in a universe where Jorin Blackeye—erm, I mean Deadeye… is validated.
And yet.
Fuck. Rock and a hard place.
HANG ON HANG ON HE’S ON HIS WAY HERE TOO, LIKE SOON AND SHIT.
Dammit. If he’s out cruising for half-orc, half-draenei action… maybe I can pull a bait-and-switch on him? I wonder if Garona’s doing anything this week. I could invite her to attend whatever reception I end up stuck holding for these people and really lay it on thick about how much I’d like her to be there and OH SHIT NEVER MIND THAT’S JUST GOING TO GIVE HER IDEAS.
Fucking hell, this parenting shit isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. UGH.
I apologize for disturbing you, when as your loyal subject it should be my duty to relieve your stresses, not add to them, but I have a delicate question for you. (by the way, could you please appoint us Blood Elves a Regent? I got a rude note from someone calling himself “Bob” saying you had named a Lord Invincible to the post, but I’ve never seen him . . . ?)
Anyhow, I . . . met a girl. Cat. Woman. Druid. Ummm, she’s really really beautiful, and she loves it when I pet her, and she purrs when we take naps in the sunlight, and we love to just stare into each others’ eyes when she’s a cat. Not a small cat, a big black panther. But anyways, I met her as part of trying to research help for my . . . not quite alive condition. She’s with the Cenarion Circle, and I guess they had a grudge against orcs for killing Cenarius, only he’s not dead anymore so that’s ok, I hope. We started spending time together, and slaughtering murlocs, and I found out that when we’re together I can feel my heart beating again. Umm . . . is it ok that she’s a Night Elf? We stay at her cave in Moonglade when I’m not on assignment, so she won’t disturb any members of the Horde.
Hopefully,
–Sintra E’Drien of Silvermoon.
Ps. Shouldn’t Loktar Ogar mean something more like “My Victory, Their Death!”?
I… Hang on, when did this mailbag turn into the fucking Dating Game?
So hold it, Sintra, are you seriously asking me to sign off on you shacking up with a freaking NIGHT ELF? I mean, I already had ENOUGH of a headache just recently dealing with Mokvar’s human chick, and as far as I can gather SHE’S at least his EX-wife, as opposed to whatever the fuck you have going on that’s just in the early magical bloom of insert-your-greeting-card-bullshit-romantic-cliche-here.
And so, on top of the night elf part, she’s a druid, and from the sound of it you spend most of your time together with her in cat form? And you’re still technically dead… and… I don’t even KNOW what the fuck that is, like now you’re just doing the backstroke around a giant cocktail glass loaded up with some spiritsforsaken concoction of bestiality and (reverse?) necrophilia and disloyalty and furry and OMG. I mean the only part of that whole damn part of it that I can sign off on is the whole “slaughtering murlocs” thing, because let’s face it, who’s not down for good wholesome murloc slaughter? Other than the murlocs, I suppose. But who knows, maybe not. I know if I were a murloc, I would fucking hate me.
Hang on, though.
Jog my memory here, Sintra… aren’t you a blood elf chick? Because if so, and she’s… that might…
<thinks>
No. No. Never mind. Sticking with the dead-murloc-lone-highlight position. The end. Turn the page. Ahem.
I’ll be in my bunk.
[Keep those letter coming! Send e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the form below. Next mailbag July 6!]
Monday mailbag
Just got back to Orgrimmar a little while ago. I checked in with the shamans over in the Valley of Wisdom about Gurtash. They’re still working on him, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to have anything solid to say for a while yet. All we really know right now is that that spectral minion got him good…the fucker managed to get a good rip in on the kid in exactly the wrong areas, the head and chest. They made it sound like they’re not going to able to say much for sure for a while still, so apparently I’m just going to have to kill time till then. So, I guess this is as good a time as any to clear out some more of this mail backlog.
So… the last mailbag made an impression for sure, what with it including a letter from some goblin guy that ran on for so long that I’m fairly sure I still won’t finish reading it until sometime next Tuesday. With that in mind…
Dat quite da letter, Grottee Metalbeard. I’d recommend splittin’ it into more paragraphs next time, though. Ol’ Garry — *quickly scratches out the former and substitutes in “Warchief” — can only handle so much.
–Alayea
P.S. Though Fordring say he speechless, he sure ain’t one ta talk. =P
Oh, Fordring is one to talk, Alayea. To talk, and talk, and talk, and oh, by the way, did I mention talk? But yeah…that was a letter and a half last time. Actually, it was more like 6.2 letters. Maybe more. No less, though. You’d be amazed what a difference even a tenth of a letter makes. 6.1 would contain surprisingly little content.
Eheheh, sorry about all that Warchief. I was on a Kaja’cola binge when I wrote my letter.
Anyway, I’ll drop Blackfuse a line to let him know you’re interested. Protip: The key to keeping his attention is to keep mentioning money.
–Grottee Metalbeard
Oh, and check it out, look who’s back. So…how much Kaja’cola did you choke down before you wrote that letter? Is there any left? Anywhere? Or is that shit just really potent? I can’t say I’ve ever tried the stuff, so I’m not really in much position to say. Sounds like it has the same kind of effect as that kafa stuff from Pandaria that Ruekie’s always drinking. Man, you should see her with a couple cups of that stuff in her. Haste buff like you wouldn’t believe. I’m at least 50% sure one more cup would shave all her spells down to instant cast.
Anyway, yeah, feel free to contact that Blackfuse dude for me. Might be a good idea for you let me know where I can reach him so I can see about making contact directly, too. Is he over in the goblin part of town in Orgrimmar, or up in Azshara, or doing business somewhere else? Either way, yeah, I kind of figured the way to his heart was through his wallet. I mean, come on, he’s a goblin. I know how you guys are wired.
Oh, and before all you crybabies get your panties in a bunch about me saying that, because racist this and stereotype that and boo hoo hoo, I give you Exhibit A:
Got another question for ya! What’s the big deal with my fellow Horde members shirking their duty in Alterac Valley? Are the Frostwolves really a bunch of pansies now that Big T went all hippy peace and love, or are they just scared of the beards on them Stormpikes? If it’s the beards, I totally got an answer for that!
You see my company, Sparkbolt Enterprises, has recently come into some great explosives. And by great, I mean “how in the burning hells is this stuff still legal?!” We pack it up nice and tight in the best elementium plating we can find (and boy howdy was there a TON of that stuff lying around when Deathwing was killed off), primed and ready to be launched at the face of any Alliance foe you can imagine! I like to call it the Sparkbolt Facemelter™! For best results, aim at dwarves or the sissy pandas that went for the Blue and Gold. It’s like watching an explosive sheep in an oil refinery! Just watch out for friendly fire and people within range of the discharge explosion. Also, wear heavy protective armor when setting one of these bad boys off! My, uh, my cousin Vinny didn’t and his face literally got melted. Makes the family reunions awkward, I can tell ya that much. 10,000 gold will get ya 100 quality Facemelters, primed and ready to roll! (shipping and handling is an extra 5,000. We disavow any responsibility, legal, moral, or otherwise, for misuse or improper storage of our products.)
*attached is a handy order form and catalogue for other Sparkbolt products*
Pleasure doing business with ya,
–Glessee “Glitch” Sparkbolt, Founder and CEO of Sparkbolt Enterprises
Yeah. So. Thanks?
But okay…I want to make sure I’m following this correctly, because listen, if there’s one guy you DON’T have to sell on the idea of blowing up Allies, it’s me. Like it’s really, REALLY me. So… you’re trying to sell me explosives that you have to armor yourself to the teeth just to use, and still stay out of the range…hang on, what IS the “range of the discharge explosion”? Like how far away from this thing do you have to BE? Because you’re making it sound pretty damn huge, which would mean that it would be nearly impossible even to USE the damn thing without being taken out by it. Which means the only way I could even put these things into action would be to use my own people as living cannon fodder, and send them out there armed with these things to blow up targets knowing full well they’re gonna get melted themselves. Which sounds like it’s straight out of Psychotic War of Attrition 101.
So what I’m telling you is, I’ll go as high as 8000 for the pack of 100, shipped, but you’re not getting a copper more than that.
Fucking price-gouging goblins.
Being a big fan of your poetic skills, I just have to say,
There once was a goblin from Ratchet.
Go!
–Whizzy Greaseknuckle, from a neutral coastal town that may or may not be in the Northern Barrens
The fuck is up with all the goblins this time around? Is there some kind of coupon going around online for a “free with proof of your letter to Garrosh” deal or some shit?
Anyhow, though, you know what? You’re on.
There once was a goblin from Ratchet
Whose wits weren’t as sharp as a hatchet.
She launched a Facemelter™,
Ducked in her bomb shelter,
But, sadly, neglected to latch it.
EPIC VERSE!
I am Lantresor of the Blade. Perhaps you do not remember me, though I do remember you. If you do remember me, it’s probably about how my clan, the Boulderfist ogres, attacked the village of your friend Jorin Deadeye – which they did, but the peace settlement I made with you should make that square.
At any rate, I’m writing in from the Burning Blade Ruins because I noticed you have a daughter – Shayari, was it? – who is half-orc and half-draenei. That makes at least three of us in this world, I see – her, Garona Halforcen and myself. I am the inversion of your daughter, physically our unique my body is that of an orc with draenei traits; notably, I am taller than an average orc, my shoulders are broader and my skin is an off-blue colour.
I sympathise with her experiences – they are not unlike those of my own. My father was a draenei scout, my mother an orc of the Burning Blade Clan. Sadly, the blood war between my parents’ people came when I was young. My mother raised me alone as best she could, my father being too dead to help, but in the end, I am half-orc and half-draenei – because of which, in the end I would be seen as neither.
I had barely completed my rite of passage when my enemies in the clan had me cast out shortly after they came to power. My father’s people, as you can imagine, could not bare to look upon me, for I was a reflection of their death. I was fortunate enough to still find a place in the Horde, where I would serve under the banner of two warchiefs. Now, though, I bow to no one. Instead, I am a ruler. A ruler of ogres.
Most of our kind were wiped out decades ago, though who was most responsible I do not know. I do know, however, that most would live their lives as outcasts, labelled and cast aside. Victims of their heritage. This world is no good to those of us who are half- anything. We stand forever apart; few know us, and fewer still understand us. For that reason I carry immense respect for Rexxar and his kind, the Mok’Nathal. They have lived as outcasts even longer than I have, yet they remain strong, if insular and distrusftul.
I write this letter not seeking your pity, but as a gesture to your daughter. The things she and I have been forced to learn, the things we have endured and suffered, the rejection, the shame… they are things only the children of orcs and draenei can know. If she has lived this long, it is a testament to her strength and independence; not all such children had it in them to take on the challenges and struggles our unique heritage presents. I, for one, applaud her, inasmuch as that means anything to either of you.
As an addendum, tell your daughter the next time you see her that she is not alone as a half-orc/draenei. Tell her that Lantresor of the Blade knows and understands – and finally, that if she ever needs my aid, or that of Boulderfist, she has only to ask.
–Lantresor of the Blade
Huh. Well THAT’S someone I wasn’t expecting to get a letter from. Not least of all because I wouldn’t have guessed Lantresor read the blog. Actually, hang on – the ogres out in Nagrand have INTERNET access? Grizzle Fucking Gearslip can’t set up a wireless network in Domination Point that doesn’t make the computer literally urinate on the desk, but the fucking OGRES on a shattered planet have GOOGLE? How the hell did THAT happen?!
Anyway.
I do remember you, Lantresor. Although, not for nothing, but I wouldn’t go so far as calling Jorin my “friend.” Yeah, we both grew up in Garadar, but he was…well, he was always kind of a dick. Especially once he got wind of some of the uglier details about Grom, and decided it would be a hoot of a good time to keep reminding me of them at every turn. So, you know, that whole thing where you rolling his village. Boo hoo. Fuck ’im.
Anyhow, thanks for reaching out about Shayari. I haven’t really thought that much about the whole half-breed thing, but it probably makes sense that she’d do well to have someone she can talk to who’s in the same boat. And considering the only other option for that would be Garona, well…yeah… I don’t really know you, Lantresor, but I’m pretty sure you’d be the better option. Seeing as I haven’t seen any overt signs of fucking migraine-inducing crazy from you. Plus, Garona seems to get all cranky whenever anybody mentions Shay around her. Who knows.
As it happens, I think one of my trainees is on track to be around your neck of the woods soon, so if it’s all good by you, I may have her swing by your way to introduce herself. Think of her as sort of an emissary, entrusted with a crucial matter of cross-cultural diplomacy because…well…she was going to be in the neighborhood anyway. So if a young orc by the name of Mirembe comes toddling on over, try not to have your ogre buddies step on her. She’s not as squishy as a lot of kids her age, and more than a little better at shield-slamming, but still, you know, why court trouble?
And speaking of whom…
I know I’ve been writing in a lot, but it’s better to hear how my training goes here than in some silly report, right? And since you asked, I’m a Warsong orc too! My parents were grunts in Grom’s squad during the Third War. The necklace wasn’t from my first kills, so don’t worry!
I made it to Nagrand at last! Your Greatmother is awesome! She welcomed me, sat me down, and gave me a big bowl of clefthoof stew. I think I might gain weight out here from how often she asks me if I wanna eat something. If it’s not stew, it’s talbuk steak. If it’s not talbuk steak, it’s frenzy fish fry. She even offered me a sandwich made from leftover clefthoof roast one night after dinner! I won’t complain, though. The extra pounds might help me with a problem I’ve been having out here.
I met that Jorin guy. He seemed pretty crabby about some ogres or something. I wasn’t paying much attention until he told me to go kill those ogres. How long has this been going on with him? Anyway, to get back to my problem, he looks at me in creepy ways. Like how I’ve seen orcs in Shattrath stare at those draae…drenn…spacegoat girls. It’s gotten so bad, I stay with Greatmother most of the time now. What can I do to make him stop? Even threatening to smash his skull with my shield doesn’t work!
Help!
–Mirembe
Hey, Mirembe. Glad to hear the training is coming along. Just make sure you watch your portions while you’re out there – Greatmother piles the food on any guests who show up in town, and packing on the extra points isn’t going to do any favors to your dodge rating. Sure, she’s a nice old lady and everything, but you still need to be able to tell her “no thank you,” and then, when “no thank you” doesn’t even slow her down when she’s ladling out your ninth serving of clefthoof stew, you need to be able to get up from the table and walk away. And then keep walking, because she will FOLLOW your ass around town trying to get you to eat up, because you’re getting too skinny, and for FUCK’S sake make sure you keep a good pace going so you can stay ahead of her. She might be an old woman, but she’s fucking SPRY.
As for Jorin, speak of the devil, I was just answering another letter from this guy who…
Hang on.
You’re saying Jorin had you out killing ogres? Ogres that he was all cranky about? Like…the ogres who attacked his village back in the day… and who I arranged a TRUCE with way back before I moved to Orgrimmar? The ogres who are… um… led by…Lantresor of the Blade, who was JUST writing to me and trying to be nice and shit, and who I told I was going to send you to as a kind of emissary, only that was before I knew you were running around killing his fucking people, because evidently, according to Jorin, having a cease-fire in place for like four years is no reason not to send unsuspecting noobs (no offense, Mira) to KILL the people we have the cease-fire with because stomp stomp hissy fit? THOSE ogres?
FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JORIN. I mean, seriously. Fuck that guy. Um…not literally, Mirembe. Not literally. You don’t want to encourage him. Like at all.
And speaking of Jorin and his leering… yeah. He was always kind of a creeper. Twice the creepy looks with half the eyes. The best thing to do, really, it probably to try to steer clear of him. But you want to know the real secret weapon? Next time you catch Jorin popping his one good peeper at you, high-tail it over to Greatmother and fill her in on what he’s been up to. Believe me, that old lady doesn’t put up with any crap, and I can tell you from first-hand experience that if he sets her off, she will drop the clefthoof stew in two seconds flat to run over there and serve up a big steaming bowl of Pull Your Head Out of Your Fucking Ass, Jorin.
If THAT doesn’t work…hoo boy. All I can think of at that point if to remind the fucker that he’s already down to just one good eye, and if he can’t keep THAT eye from ogling where it shouldn’t be, SOMEBODY might have to take that one, too. Which may or may not give him an updated vision of how he’s going to die.
Maybe THAT’ll finally get through to him. Because, you know, it’s all fun and games until someone loses and eye, but it’s even BIGGER fun when they lose the other…
Erm…
Never mind.
I’m going to wrap up here. I’ve got to head over to the Valley of Wisdom and check in. On a few things. Keep the letters coming, e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com, handy form below, yadda yadda.
More soon.
[Next mailbag: June 1!]
Brothers in arms
These timeline flashes have gotten me thinking of a lot of things, not least of all the years in Nagrand before Thrall came. I dug my old journal out again for the first time in months and have been paging through it some today. This entry goes back to when I was a teenager. A million years ago and yesterday all at once…
Dranosh and I spent the morning riding out to Sunspring Post to go fishing. Most of the way we just talked about how weird Jorin has been acting lately. We used to be pretty good friends, but the last couple months, since he found out about his dad being chieftain of the Bleeding Hollow clan, he’s kinda started turning into a dick, like be’s better than us all of a sudden.
When we got to Sunspring Post, there was a big buzz going on about a hunting party that had been attacked. They had been out doing their usual clefthoof and talbuk hunting, when a gronn came down from the hills. It killed two members of the party before they could even react. The rest of them made a run for it and made it back to the village.
Dranosh overheard this whole discussion going on and gave me that look of his and said, “I know we came out here to go fishing, but what do you say to a hunting trip?” So off we went.
We wandered around the western hills for a while before we found the gronn. At first it looked like it was fighting some ogres and windrocs, but when we got closer we could see the gronn and the ogres were fighting together. Hunting windrocs for food, maybe? I remember Greatmother telling me that ogres were descended from gronn, so I guess the Warmaul ogre clan was getting buddy-buddy with a semi-distant cousin?
Anyway, by this point the ogres had noticed us and were running in to attack us. Dranosh took down the first two to reach us before I could even draw my axes – I’ve got to remember to ask him some time to show me that move of his where he hacks into two targets at once. It’s pretty badass.
Dranosh started duking it out with the gronn while I charged in on a couple warlocks – you know, the ones that all seem to have two heads – that were peppering us with shadow bolts. I ran up on them, and hacked one head off of each of them, one with each hand. Double axe action! The best part, though was how once each ogre was down one head, the two remaining heads looked at each other with these hilarious “Oh shit” expressions – which gave me just enough time to finish my follow-through, wind up again, and lop off those heads too.
Dranosh was mostly keeping it together against the gronn, but right when I’d finished with the warlocks (and chopped up their damn imps for dessert), the gronn got hold of Dranosh and flung him against the mountainside. I leapt to him just as the last couple ogre maulers were running over. We each squared off with one. They turned out to be a hell of a lot tougher than the others. Dranosh and I weaved back and forth around them, trading off targets, maneuvering to help set each other up – we’d fought together before, obviously, but it was the first time I remember ever noticing how well we know each other’s instincts in battle. All those years of sparring and practicing together…all those times we’d seen each seen every one of the other’s moves – we’ve reached a point where we can play off of each other without even thinking about it. Without even trying to.
Eventually we maneuvered so we were standing back to back with the ogres flailing away at us from either side, lashing into our parries harder with every swing. We let them back us a little closer to each other, then Dranosh glanced back at me and said, “Count of three?” I just answered with “One.” He added “Two,” I added “Three,” and then, with both ogres in mid-swing, we ducked down and away, and let the ogres cut each other down for us.
By this point, the gronn was on top of us again, and we both went to work on it. He hung in there for a while – he was a resilient bastard – but he was too slow and clumsy to keep up with the two of us for long. Little by little we wore him down, and in a little while we made our way back to Sunspring Post – with a gronn head in hand to show it was safe to go hunting again.
On the down side, the fish weren’t really biting at the lake. Looks like we spent all that time walking out here for nothing. Oh well.
That wasn’t the first or the last time we’d fought together shoulder to shoulder. There were dozens of hunting trips back in Garadar, and the Warmaul ogres kept us busy on more than one occasion keeping the place safe. So many memories of us charging together into so many fights we should have known better than to try by ourselves, then coming out alive because we were just too stubborn not to. Because neither of us was going to let the other die. Us against the world, we thought. Spirits help the world.
And yet, now I have these other memories. Dim and fuzzy, incomplete, but still there. Dranosh and I, charging into battle together. In Northrend. In the Twilight Highlands. Memories I wasn’t even there for, except that I was. Me, but not me. Another me…maybe a better me. The life I would have lived – the life I DID live, if we don’t reset the timeline back to the “real” one.
Maybe the life I SHOULD have lived.
Meanwhile I sit here in Northwatch Hold, biding my time on the next battle, while half my underlings grumble and complain, as if the victory we just won wasn’t suitably victorious for them. Sometimes it seems as if Malkorok is the only one that understands what I’m trying to do here, and even he…well, I don’t know if he’s the type you ever feel totally at ease with. Even when you know he’s on your side.
More and more, I find myself wishing Dranosh was still here.
Dazed and confused
HAHAHA you guys are awesome LOL!
OKay so I went bavk to T’chali in Gruul’s old cave likei said I was going to and asked T’chali about that Baron Sablemane dude because I bet he’s up to siome kind of fucked up shit wherever he is up thre where he is. SO. ANd so like T’chali didn’t want ot talk right away cause he was too busy drinking with some of his oger buddies and by the way did i mention those ogres actually have some pretty good beer? LIke i would not have expected it byut YAH. SO. He totally was stuck on happy hour which I don’t know why they call it happy hour cause it’s def longer than an hour and OMG Hahaha thats actually pretty cool. SO. Anyways. Anyways it was pretyy obvious he wasn’t interested in talking much with anyone who wasn’t part of the gang so I figured I was goinffgg to have to get buddy buddy with him which was going to be a pain cause I don’t get on too well with trolls except T’chali’s actually kind of cool so I like him because he is cool. And pluis a;lso the ogres have some really really good beer.
SO. We had a couple drinks and I was still kinda being all cranky pants which T’chali said he coiuld probably help fix that and now that I think of it he was probably right because he’s pretty cool, and so I figured whta the hell lets try out that hookah he’s always talking about and so YA i see why he’s always tlkaing about it. I’ll be hoinest I don’t know if I would be offering to share that stuff with people if I had it, I probably would just keep it for myself HAHAHA SUCKERS HA!
I wonder if anyone has any chocolate cookies around here. I could totally go for some cookies.
ANd yeah so the thing with Baron SAblemane, because that’s what I went to talk to T’chali about, and he’s pretty cool it turns out and HAHAHAHA he’s a funny guy like there was the whole thing he was tlkaing about with the guy, and you know. LOL! What was I saying? OH. Barion SAblemane. WHO IS TOTALLY A DRAGON CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT with wings and claws like RAAAAARRR hahaha. Rar. OH AND T’chali totally KNEW about it too cause I guess when T’chali was fighting one of Gruul’s sons Sablemane came to help him an he WHOOSH turned into um, into, what was his dragon name again, into Sybian? no wait thats someone I think Garona was talking about with Proudleslie OK so whatever OH OH OH now I remember SABELLIAN, so ya he showed up, and went WHOOSH and turned into Sabellian the dragon, and went RAAARR and Gruul’s kid shit himself. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA that’s funny/.
Are you sure theres no cookies here.
What was I saying?
OH YAH cookies.
No wait. Um…
Um.
OMG sorry I was wathcing my hand move. Have you TRIED That that shit is freaky hahahahaa.
But yeah. SO. So yeah the Baron guy is TOTALLY a black dragon for sure, whic h is weird because what would a dragon be doing in Stratholme or Naxxramas right? Um…no wait, hold on, I think… OH YA that’s a different Baron, sorry my bad LOL. Because THIS baron is the one who is a DRAGON. SSSSSSHHHHH its a secret
Sorry dropped my pen was laughing too much hehehe.
But so after Baron Sablemane helped T’chali scare the shit out of Gruul’s son HAHAHAHA scared the shit out of him. Or maybe killed him. I’m not to clear on that and WHAT THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO DO FOR SOME COOKIES. Anyway so Sablemane took off after that and OMG did HE take the cookies with him???
No wait that was a long time ago I think. Hahaha dragon flying with a big box of cookies heeheehee HA.
No but he left and lucky for us T’chali says he heard him mention where he was going to and thats good because he probabkly isnt up to any gfood and so now we can go track him down cause T’chali heard where we was going DID YOU KNOW THAT? Haha he’s funny. T’chali not the dragon, I don’t know him. What was I…?
OH OH OH yeah so he heard where he was going and so now I know where he was going, and so see, it totally makes sense because like…um, where he went…
Um…
SO.
HAHAHAHAHAAAAA jlkhsdfa
Long live the king
So here’s a curveball I didn’t see coming. After I talked with Rexxar, I flew to Bloodmaul Ravine to see what was going on with the ogres. Sure enough, they all seemed a lot more relaxed than I would have figured. There used to be a time when the Bladespire and Bloodmaul ogres were at each other’s throats, but now they’re acting like old friends – joking around, drinking together, the whole nine yards. Thing is, though…if you take a few deep breaths around there, it’s not too hard to figure out why everybody’s so much more mellow.
Uh huh.
Let’s put it this way: felweed’s a hell of a drug.
And I know what you’re going to say – isn’t felweed used for potions, like isn’t it medicine? Well seriously, dude…it’s ALL medicine, you know?
So it took some looking around, but I finally tracked down this new king of the ogres at the cave that used to be Gruul’s lair. And you’ll never guess this one – the new king of the ogres? A fucking TROLL. Specifically, a troll witch doctor named T’chali. Which was a hell of surprise to me, as I’m sure it is for you too if you’ve heard of this guy, because last I knew, fucker was supposed to be DEAD, buried alive by the Bloodmaul ogres down at the southern end of the canyon. All he would say about that was “Reports of me deat’ be greatly exaggerated, mon,” whatever the hell that means, and I really don’t know why I’m even surprised anymore when people who are supposed to be dead turn up alive again, because apparently that’s just the thing to do these days.
Anyway, T’chali was just a bundle of laughs, by which I mean, dude couldn’t stop laughing his ass off over nothing in particular, but it wasn’t hard to figure out why, seeing as every five minutes he was offering me a hit from his hookah. I’m not even exaggerating, every other thing out of his mouth was “hookah, mon” this and “hookah, mon” that. Fucking stoner.
When he wasn’t busy cracking up over the fact that his feet moved when he walked, I was able to get the story out of him about how he ended up becoming king. A ways back he’d gone on a whole big chain of quests for the ogres to help them break free of Gruul and his sons – this was before Gruul finally got his ass handed to him a few years ago. Eventually after all he did to help them, the ogre mystics gave him the blessing to visit Ogri’la – I guess this is some kind of a big deal to these ogres – and proclaimed him king of the Bloodmaul and Bladespire alike. Based on what I can see, it wasn’t long before he got some brews going and got the hookahs fired up, and I’m going to stick my neck way, WAY out and say that productivity in ogre-land probably took kind of a dive right around that point.
T’chali did mention one thing that didn’t really hit me until I’d left. He had made a passing reference to getting some help in his adventures from a human named Baron Sablemane, who had an axe to grind with the gronn for killing countless relatives of his. It didn’t hit me until later that the gronn in Blade’s Edge Mountains had been responsible for killing huge numbers of black dragons…and that there had been a high-ranking black dragon in Outland named Sabellian…which would fit right into how COMPLETELY uncreative most of these dragons are about their humanoid alter egos. (I mean seriously, people WEREN’T supposed to figure out that Victor Nefarius was Nefarian? Really?) And it would also mean there’s a son of fucking Deathwing still running around loose in Outland.
I asked Rexxar about this when I got back to Thunderlord Stronghold, and check this out – not only does Rexxar know about this Baron Sablemane guy, and not only did he confirm T’chali’s description of him and his personality and his woe-be-to-Gruul-and-his-sons-for-slaughtering-my-kin obsession, all of which might as well have been capped off with giant glowing letters over his head that read <Hey Guess What Everyone I’m the Son of Deathwing>, but Rexxar actually considers this guy a FRIEND of his.
Apparently the thought never occurred to Rexxar that anything might be up with this guy. Um…BLINDERS, anyone? Seriously? So I figure I’m not getting a lot of help from Rexxar in checking up on this. So I’m going to pay T’chali another visit later tonight and see if I can get anything else useful out of him.
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
