Tag Archives: orgrimmar
Horde Iron Chef (part 2)
[This is usually the part where a writer would try to build in some catch-up exposition for the benefit of anyone who missed the first part, but you know what? Screw it. If you’re here at all, you’re probably on board with the idea of continuity. Nobody’s fault but your own if you’re confused! Moving on!]
LIADRIN: I wouldn’t mind trying some of that myself, Warchief.
GARROSH: Coming up.
LIADRIN: Would you like some, Salandria?
SALANDRIA: That’s okay. You can be the guinea pig for now.
While Garrosh serves up a bowl of noodles to Liadrin, Korrina and Kulkesh enter.
RUEKIE: Hi guys!
KORRINA: Hey.
KULKESH: Greetings, Captain. It’s–
Kulkesh trails off as Garrosh turns to them. He and Korrina stare for a moment.
KORRINA: Um.
KULKESH: Uh… that is… hi, sir. It’s… you really did get into the spirit of things, didn’t you, Captain…?
KORRINA: All I’m going to say is, um, you must be incredibly secure in yourself, sir…
GARROSH: Why is EVERYONE reacting like this?
SHAYARI: Would you like the reasons alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of how much they make me want to wear a bucket over my head for the next thousand years or so?
GARROSH: Okay, that’s it — NO NOODLES FOR YOU!
KULKESH: How are you feeling, Gurt?
GURTASH: Not bad. I mean, I’m still a little sore. And I’m still checking in with the healers every couple of days. But I’m pretty much recovered at this point.
KULKESH: Cool. You know, if you hadn’t come around soon, we were going to head over to Blackrock Spire and go dragon hunting ourselves.
KORRINA: Yeah, we were going to go all Wrathion on their asses.
GURTASH: Heh. I appreciate it, guys.
LIADRIN: I’m glad the healers are nearly done with your injuries, Gurtash. If you ever think it might help, I’m happy to cast a Flash of Light or two, although, granted, my areas of expertise are more in the realm of protection than healing.
MOKVAR: Too bad you weren’t with us in the Spire. We probably could have used a tank up there.
SHAYARI: Pip especially.
RUEKIE: Speaking of which, kind of, has anybody seen Mirembe?
KORRINA: She’s around here somewhere. We ran into her at one of the noodle stands.
KULKESH: I don’t know if she was going to stick around, though.
GURTASH: How come?
KORRINA: Oh, something about that Lantresor guy.
KULKESH: I think she ran into him while she was trying some food, and he made some comment about her weight, or something.
KORRINA: “Potbelly,” was it?
KULKESH: Yeah, I think so.
SHAYARI: Oh, spirits, THAT guy.
GURTASH: You know him?
SHAYARI: We’ve talked a couple times since he came to Orgrimmar. He’s a piece of work, let me tell you. Always going on and on about “oh, children of two worlds,” and “oh, we are alike, you and I,” and “you are not alone,” and “you are not alone,” and “ohh — did I mention? — you are not alone,” and I’m like, okay, I get it, I’m not alone, you’re making me wish I was, Professor YANA.
KORRINA: Old people are weird.
SALANDRIA: How old?
LIADRIN: Don’t start.
Ji enters, accompanied by Spazzle and Giska.
GARROSH: Ah, perfect, just the pudgeball I was looking for.
JI: Hello, Garrosh! Everyone!
SPAZZLE: Hey boss.
MOKVAR: Afternoon, Ji. Everything finally set up?
JI: Almost. Not quite. There’s an even better turnout than I’d expected!
SPAZZLE: Which means even more setup for us to do on the fly…
MOKVAR: How did he rope you into this anyway, Spaz?
GARROSH: Yeah, Pea Pod, I would’ve figured he’d have plenty of pandas to call in on this, seeing as, you know, this IS a panda festival.
JI: Oh, many of the Huojin have been busy working on the festival, sir. But they’ve mostly been cooking.
SPAZZLE: Which left plenty more setup work that Ji needed me to lend a hand with. At an hourly rate, anyway.
JI: Wait, you meant that? I thought you were joking!
SPAZZLE: Hey, I’ve got billing rules to follow! I’m in a union, you know!
MOKVAR: I thought it was a cartel.
SPAZZLE: We’re goblins! Same difference!
JI: But we’re friends!
SPAZZLE: Yeah, well, time is money, friend!
GARROSH: So listen, Deep Dish, you have somewhere I can set up? Probably with some space around it, for when people start flocking to get a taste of my stuff here.
Korrina, Gurtash, Kulkesh, and Giska all turn to look at Ruekie.
RUEKIE: <aside> I’m not saying anything!
KORRINA: <aside> You’re sure? You looked like you were about to say something.
RUEKIE: <aside> No no no, I’m keeping my mouth shut from now on! Every time I open my mouth, somebody sticks– hoooooo boy I almost did it again! Whew!
JI: Well, Garrosh… hmm. I still need to set up a few stations, but…
GARROSH: <pointing> What about right over here? Looks like you’ve got a couple spots.
JI: Well, yes, one of those is reserved, but I suppose you can take the other. Do you need a hand setting up?
GARROSH: Pfft, what’s there to set up?
Garrosh drops his pot on the table with a heavy thud.
OH HEY, we’ve got a cooking fire here and everything.
JI: Oh yes, several of the stations have them. Many of our participants are cooking right here on the premises!
GARROSH: Ah, nice, this way I can whip up a little MORE of this stuff, seeing as we’re probably gonna go through it pretty quick, even before we figure in Mokvar’s little pink friend.
MOKVAR: Uh, yeah, sorry about that again.
GARROSH: Actually… here.
Garrosh reaches over to Mokvar and yanks a page from his pack, sending some of his inscription gear spilling to the ground.
MOKVAR: <gathering his belongings> You know you could have just asked.
GARROSH: <scribbling on the page> Yeah, yeah, boo hoo. You two, front and center.
Korrina and Kulkesh go to Garrosh.
KULKESH: Yes, sir!
GARROSH: Giska, you too.
Giska joins them.
I assume you’re done with her now, Lunchbox.
JI: Actually, Warchief, we still–
GARROSH: My trainee, your student, I outrank you, done, boom.
JI: Oh bother…
GARROSH: <handing the paper to Giska> Okay, you three. Zip over to the market by Grommash Hold and pick up the stuff on this list for me.
KULKESH: Yes, sir!
GISKA: <scanning the list> Uh, just one thing, Captain. This looks like a lot — what do we do for money?
GARROSH: You tell the vendors you’re there on orders of the Warchief, and boy this is a nice little shop you’ve got here, and it sure would be a goddamn shame if somebody went and got blood stains all over it.
KORRINA: <clapping once and rubbing her hands together> Talkin’ my language, sir. On it!
GARROSH: Okay. Off with the lot of you.
While Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh run off, Faranell enters, sporting a jaw that’s conspicuously mismatched with the rest of his face.
LIADRIN: Doctor! Good afternoon. You’re looking… um… well.
MOKVAR: Edwin! It’s good to see… see you… erm… you… Uh, yeah… so I guess we’ve both gone through some changes since last time I saw you, but…
SHAYARI: Difference is, Beardy, your changes get a lot less obvious once you dip into the back of your closet…
FARANELL: Ah, yes, the ideal person to comment on the current state of my appearance.
SHAYARI: Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to duck fast enough, Eddie!
GARROSH: Hey, Doc, you…
Garrosh stares at Faranell a moment.
Okay, so…
Garrosh stares a moment longer.
I know I might end up regretting I asked this, but…
FARANELL: It’s a loaner. I’m just using it while my regular jaw is in the shop.
GARROSH: I… see.
MOKVAR: Gotta say, Edwin, you Forsaken have a really weird way of life sometimes.
FARANELL: Fancy that, that a community of reanimated corpses might have certain oddities in their cultural norms.
MOKVAR: Uh… right.
SALANDRIA: Wait, his… his jaw is in the shop? Did I hear that right?
LIADRIN: Yes, Dr. Faranell had a bit of an incident involving his jaw.
FARANELL: Yes, much in the same sense that Theramore had something of an incident involving the Focusing Iris.
SALANDRIA: What happened?
GARROSH: Oh geez, here we go…
FARANELL: Mana bomb.
SALANDRIA: No, not that!
GARROSH: Oh for FUCK’S sake.
SALANDRIA: I know that part! I mean your jaw!
SHAYARI: Cue the QQ. Or, you know, Q^3.
FARANELL: Suffice to say that my freshly harvested and installed jaw suffered some structural damage when I attempted to dissuade my would-be erstwhile apprentice from racing after her newly discovered father to a ruined dragon’s lair.
SHAYARI: And you know, there isn’t one single part of that sentence that would be possible if any of us led normal lives.
FARANELL: And, incidentally, just to put the button on the whole sordid affair, I am still waiting for certain reimbursements to be made.
GARROSH: Oh, for fuck’s sake. I… okay, FINE. After we’re done with the whole noodle thing here, I’ll get your damn gold. Are you fucking HAPPY now?
FARANELL: Beside myself with delirium. Bear in mind, also, that in light of the time that’s passed, certain sums of interest have accrued.
GARROSH: Fucking hell, are you kidding me? INTEREST now?!
SPAZZLE: Hey, don’t look at me. He came up with that on his own.
GARROSH: Please don’t tell me you trudged out here just to be a pain in the ass over this.
FARANELL: Oh hardly.
GARROSH: Yeah, good.
FARANELL: I’m a mage. I can teleport. I didn’t have to trudge at all.
Speaking of trudging, Malkorok returns doing just that, with Garrosh’s extra pot of noodles still in hand.
SHAYARI: Anyhow, I don’t think Eddie popped over to join the party, Pops.
Malkorok approaches Garrosh’s station and drops his pot on the counter.
MALKOROK: <aside> I’ve spoken to the guards who were charged with overseeing this area.
MOKVAR: Well, if I remember right, undead don’t really have that much of a sense of taste, so…
GARROSH: <aside> Good. What did they have to say for themselves?
MALKOROK: <aside> Very little. I’ll speak to their widows tomorrow.
SALANDRIA: Oh wow, you can’t taste anything? That must suck.
GARROSH: <aside> Yeah, send them a ham or something.
FARANELL: Not quite. We Forsaken have a sense of taste, just a muted one. It’s why I typically favor spicy foods, since the stronger flavors are more perceptible.
GARROSH: Huh. Well, in that case, Doc, you’re probably gonna like these. <spoons out a serving from his pot> These ought to have enough of a kick that you should–
Garrosh starts to hand the bowl to Faranell; as he does, Deliana unstealths and grabs it from Garrosh’s hand.
DELIANA: Another helping? Don’t mind if I do!
Deliana stealths again and vanishes.
MALKOROK: What–?!
GARROSH: Um.
MOKVAR: Don’t look at me.
GARROSH: <spinning back to Malkorok> HEY, MALK, IT SURE WOULD BE AWESOME IF WE HAD A LITTLE SECURITY IN THE FUCKING CAPITAL CITY!
MALKOROK: <grumbling> Yes, sir… I’ll be back again…
Malkorok starts to storm off, passing Mokvar.
One day you’ll be called to account for your odious taste in friends, scribe.
MOKVAR: I don’t know where you got the idea we were friends.
Malkorok grumbles more and marches off.
GARROSH: Okay, well, I’ll hook you up with another serving in a second here, Doc…
FARANELL: No need, really. I’m mainly here for work reasons.
GARROSH: Work reasons? How?
MOKVAR: You’ve known him long enough that you should probably know better than to ask that question.
FARANELL: Research, and potential sample collection. I figured that at an event like this, someone was bound to produce something usefully toxic, just by the law of averages.
GARROSH: Ah.
JI: Oh, no, Dr. Edwin, I can assure you everyone here is being very careful with their food.
FARANELL: Yes, I suppose, but one can always hope.
Faranell reaches into his cloak and produces an empty vial.
Now don’t mind me; I’m just going to hover around a bit in case someone — cross fingers — turns green.
MOKVAR: Hmph. Or turns chalky white and drops dead?
FARANELL: Touche.
GARROSH: By the way, Lunchbox, are there any kind of prizes for this shindig? Any judges who’ll be coming around that I should be looking to impress and not at all threaten with physical violence, no not at all?
JI: No, sir, no prizes. The only competition in an event like this is with oneself!
GARROSH: Yeah, I should have figured you pandas would be a little too touchy-feely for a straight-up contest.
JI: Not so! The Noodle Festival is meant to be a day of community and sharing, yes, but there’s a long Pandaren tradition of competitive cooking as well!
MOKVAR: You guys really do take your food seriously, don’t you?
SPAZZLE: You wouldn’t have to ask that if you’d been with us shopping this morning.
LIADRIN: What kind of cooking contests do you have, Ji?
JI: Well, one of our most honored customs is… well, the name doesn’t quite translate precisely, but I suppose the nearest approximation would be… “Iron Chef.” It’s a competition in which challengers are given a secret ingredient without notice and must prepare a gourmet meal with it in a limited window of time.
SPAZZLE: That actually sounds kind of cool.
MOKVAR: Spazz, you live on cheap take-out.
SPAZZLE: I know, but this has a whole mad scientist angle that I can appreciate.
FARANELL: Indeed, not to mention that rushed food preparation leaves ample room for hazardous contaminants to come into play. Not that anyone would wish for such a terrible thing, of course.
JI: Based on how well the festival is being received, perhaps we could adapt the competition for the Horde as well!
MOKVAR: Sort of a Horde Iron Chef? Or… Iron Horde Chef? Or… I don’t know, something like that, I guess.
GARROSH: I don’t know about the contest, but fuck, I LOVE the ring of “Iron Horde” — that sounds fucking BADASS, dude.
SHAYARI: Maybe you should look into rebranding, Pops.
GARROSH: MAYBE I SHOULD.
Dontrag, Utvoch, and Taktani enter, carrying boxes.
Don’t think I won’t get right on that shit and…
Dontrag et al start putting their boxes down at the station next to Garrosh.
And…
UTVOCH: Greetings, Warchief!
GARROSH: <turns to Ji> You’re fucking kidding me, right?
TAKTANI: Ooh everybody’s here! And we get to be next to Mr. Warchief! This is going to be so fun! Yay!
GARROSH: Oh fuck me…
RUEKIE: <aside> Oh, sure, he says that and nobody bats an eye…
DONTRAG: A pleasure to see you as always, your supreme Warchieferousness, sir!
GARROSH: Maybe if I don’t make eye contact they’ll assume I don’t know they’re there…
UTVOCH: Sir?
TAKTANI: Mr. Warchief?
JI: Yes, sir. <turning to Dontrag and Utvoch> Well then, Utvoch… Dontrag…
DONTRAG: I’m Dontrag. He’s Utvoch.
UTVOCH: Oh man. I knew I should have brought the letter…
JI: Oh. Okay. Well, your cooking station is ready. I’m looking forward to finding out what you’re making for us!
DONTRAG: Yeah, so are we.
JI: Pardon?
UTVOCH: Well, we don’t really have a recipe that we’re using.
JI: Oh…?
MOKVAR: Uh oh…
DONTRAG: We don’t know any noodle recipes, so we figured we’d just grab a bunch of ingredients and see what we could come up with on the fly!
GARROSH: Yeah, I don’t see any way that this could go wrong…
FARANELL: Now now, let’s not be hasty. I may be about to hit pay dirt.
TAKTANI: Oh hiiiiii Dr. Zombie!
FARANELL: Oh dear.
TAKTANI: I’m super happy to see you again!
Shayari giggles.
MOKVAR: Wait, she knows Edwin?
LIADRIN: I believe she met him a time or two when I first accompanied Shayari to Orgrimmar.
MOKVAR: And I missed this?
SHAYARI: I might possibly have maybe brought her with me a couple weeks ago when I went to the Undercity for a mage lesson, too. Possibly.
GARROSH: Oh, yeah, piss off the creditor even more.
TAKTANI: It was fun! I like Zombie Town! It’s kind of stinky, but that’s okay — it’s like a big haunted house! BOO! Hee hee!
SHAYARI: Kind of like it’s Hallow’s End all the time, right, Tak?
TAKTANI: I knowwwwww!
FARANELL: Must you encourage her?
GARROSH: Right there with you, Doc…
TAKTANI: Ooh! Ooh! Do you do Hallow’s End costumes in Zombie Town, Dr. Zombie? What are you going to be this year??
FARANELL: Far, far, away, Dark Lady permitting.
TAKTANI: Oh. <scratches her head> I don’t know what that looks like, but I bet it’ll be fun!
SHAYARI: You’ll have to go with me again so you can see, Tak!
TAKTANI: Yay! I get to come visit again! Won’t that be fun, Dr. Zombie?
FARANELL: Oh yes. My heart is utterly overflowing with joy.
TAKTANI: Yay! Hee hee!
FARANELL: Or possibly infectious bile. It’s hard to tell. My heart hasn’t beaten in over a decade, after all.
TAKTANI: <blinks> Huh?
FARANELL: Nothing to trouble yourself over. Just think of my heart as you would, say, your brain.
GARROSH: Lot of that going around with this crew, Doc.
DONTRAG: I don’t get it.
GARROSH: Case in point.
FARANELL: Indeed.
Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh return with several large packages, which they put down at Garrosh’s station.
KULKESH: Good news, sir — Olvia just got some fresh talbuk steaks in.
GARROSH: <sorting through packages> Good deal. You kids get everything?
KORRINA: I think so, Captain. The vendors kind of fumbled their way through the whole order.
GISKA: Maybe next time don’t start breaking fingers right away?
KORRINA: Maybe next time mofos don’t get lippy.
GARROSH: Yeah, well, here, now that you’ve all earned your keep, have some grub.
Garrosh passes bowls of noodles to Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh.
GISKA: Thanks, Captain!
KULKESH: Smells good, sir.
LIADRIN: I must say, Garrosh, I’m surprised — these are quite good.
GARROSH: Why is everyone always shocked out of their minds any time they find out I can do something other than punch people and scratch my ass?
MOKVAR: To be fair, you don’t exactly project complexity…
LIADRIN: You said these were a family recipe, Warchief?
GISKA: They’re not bad, Captain.
GARROSH: Kind of. I sort of improvised around something Greatmother used to make back in Nagrand.
LIADRIN: Did she teach you?
GARROSH: Not really, I just — what’s with you, Korrina? Something wrong with your food?
KORRINA: Uh, not really, sir. <poking awkwardly at her noodles with chopsticks> I mean, they look good, and they smell good… I’ll let you know how they taste once I figure out how to use these damn things.
KULKESH: They’re a little awkward at first, yeah, but they’re not so bad once you get used to them.
SHAYARI: <reaching back and adjusting the chopsticks in her hair> Oh, hey, is that what these things are supposed to be for? I was wondering why they were giving them out.
Korrina starts to pick up some noodles with her chopsticks, only to have them slip loose and drop back into her bowl.
KORRINA: Ugh — yeah, this isn’t so bad at all…
GISKA: No no, try like this… see, you keep one of them balanced against your thumb, and…
Korrina takes another stab at her food with the chopsticks, but loses her grip, sending one chopstick — and most of the noodles she was picking up — spilling onto the ground.
KORRINA: Dammit! <throws her other chopstick down> Oh hell with it…
Korrina reaches over to Ruekie and snaps one of the ornamental forks off of her shoulder guards, then uses it to pick up some noodles.
RUEKIE: Hey!
KORRINA: There.
RUEKIE: Aw, man…
DONTRAG: Uh, Ut, what did you put into those?
UTVOCH: Huh? I didn’t put anything. I just cooked the noodles.
DONTRAG: But they’re all gooey or something.
TAKTANI: That was me, Mr. D!
UTVOCH: You added something? What did you put in there?
TAKTANI: Cheese!
DONTRAG: Wait, what? Cheese doesn’t… I mean, how does that even work?
TAKTANI: <blinks> Um… I like cheese!
UTVOCH: You know, this doesn’t smell half bad…
TAKTANI: So noodles are good, and cheese is good, so now they can all be good together!
DONTRAG: Tak, you can’t just… I mean, who puts cheese in noodles?
TAKTANI: I’d take it out if you want, Mr. D, but it’s all melty now!
UTVOCH: It actually smells pretty good…
DONTRAG: Noodles and cheese? Really?
UTVOCH: <eating some of the noodles> Donty, seriously, try some of this…
TAKTANI: Do you like it? Yay!
KULKESH: Hey, you know, that does smell pretty good over there…
While Kulkesh, Korrina, and Giska make their way over to Dontrag and Utvoch’s station, Malkorok returns.
MALKOROK: I’ve put additional patrols around the gates, Warchief. It would of course be easier if so many of these… people… weren’t wandering around, but it should suffice for now.
GARROSH: Yeah, well, we can’t exactly barricade off half the city.
MALKOROK: Yes, sir.
KULKESH: Oh wow, this really does taste good!
GISKA: Noodles and cheese — who would’ve guessed?
Ji leans over Dontrag, Utvoch, and Taktani’s pot while Gurtash, Ruekie, and Salandria gather around.
JI: <sniffing> Ooh, a triumphant culinary experiment, I see! Don’t mind if I try some myself…
Ji reaches over Dontrag’s shoulder and scoops some noodles into his (cartoonishly oversized) bowl.
GARROSH: What the… does that crap even have any damn MEAT in it?
TAKTANI: Oh don’t worry, Mr. Warchief! Nobody had to hurt any poor animals for this!
GARROSH: For fuck’s sake, the murder’s the tastiest part!
MOKVAR: I don’t know, boss, looks like they’re starting to draw a following.
Spazzle eyes the passersby who have started to gather around D&U&T’s station, then leans up to try to peek in their pot.
SPAZZLE: Huh… Uh, Tak?
TAKTANI: Hi, Mr. Goblin!
SPAZZLE: Uh, yeah, hi. So… what kind of cheese did you put in there?
TAKTANI: Oh, nothing fancy, Mr. Goblin. Just regular old cheddar!
SPAZZLE: Huh… that stuff barely costs a few silver…
TAKTANI: We could use another kind if you’d like it more!
SPAZZLE: No, it’s not that, just… Uh, Utvoch? Aren’t those noodles the kind they have in those little packets from Pandaria?
UTVOCH: Oh, yeah, that’s why I got them. They’re crazy cheap — they’re only something like eight copper a pack, so you can get a ton of them and barely spend anything.
SPAZZLE: Yeah, uh, that’s what I thought.
Spazzle looks at the growing line, then thinks a moment.
So… how would you guys feel about a business venture…?
UTVOCH: Uh… maybe?
GARROSH: Okay, fuck it, I have to see what the big fucking deal is with this crap.
Garrosh shoves Utvoch out of the way and scoops some of the noodles and cheese into a bowl.
It doesn’t even SMELL like anything special, I don’t know why there’s people coming out of the damn woodwork to–
Deliana unstealths and lifts the bowl out of Garrosh’s hands.
DELIANA: Oh, you need a taste tester? Sure thing, Garry!
Deliana stealths again and disappears.
GARROSH: <spinning back to Malkorok> WHAT AM I PAYING YOU FOR?!
So, you know. That went about as well as anything else I fucking try to do around here. I really might have to look into that “Iron Horde” thing, though. It seriously does sound fucking badass.
More soon.
Horde Iron Chef (part 1)
So today was kind of a festive day in Orgrimmar. Ever since the pandas came to town, Ji’s been pestering me off and on to let him introduce some of his traditional panda customs. Which struck me as kind of funny, seeing as pretty much any tavern or eatery owner who’s found their stock of food suddenly, totally depleted within like twenty minutes of ol’ Stuffed-With-Fluff waddling in the door has already gotten pretty damn familiar with the only real panda custom I know about. Still, though, Ji keep insisting there were some traditional events in panda custom that he thought would carry over pretty well. I was still kind of on the fence, but then I guess Lunchbox got in Spazzle’s ear about it (not hard to do, really, because LOOK AT THOSE EARS, right?) (HAHA I crack myself up sometimes), and then Spazzle got Boss Mida from the Bilgewater goblins into the loop on it, and then the word “sponsorships” came up, and did I MENTION teenage daughters are fucking expensive?
By the way, if you haven’t gotten your insurance straightened out, you totally should look into it.
Stop looking at me like that, dammit. An orc’s gotta put food on the table. And… apparently… dozens of outfits in the closet. Ugh.
But yeah, NOW we were in business. Like literally.
So the particular tradition in question in this case was this thing called the Pandaren Noodle Festival. Now, anybody who’s been over to Pandaria is probably pretty aware that those pandas love them some noodles. Look over any panda menu and you’re going to find noodles all over the place. And so apparently, in a lot of their villages, once a year they have a big festival where everyone in town whips up their best noodle dishes, usually family recipes or whatever, and everybody samples everybody else’s and sort of spends the day hanging out with music and booze and whatever else. And then everybody puts on like eleven pounds but who the hell even notices because pandas.
Anyhow, though, it sounded like a fun enough time, and with all the crap that’s gone on lately, people could probably use a morale boost, so I let Ji and some of his buddies go ahead and plan a big ol’ outdoor festival down in the Valley of Honor. We cleared out some space and let them set up some tables and kiosks, and I hear tell Deep-Dish has managed to get folks from all over the place to sign on to come contribute some grub. I even got Zaela to send up a few kegs of special dwarven brew that her people collected from some Wildhammer dwarves who apparently stumbled across some sort of mishap where they were caught outside during a storm and were mysteriously chopped up with axes. So, you know, a little more variety for the booze.
It’s been going on for most of the day today, and I have to say it seems like a pretty good time so far. We’ve got people dropping by Orgrimmar from all over to join the party. I’m even going to try to swing by myself once I get one last thing finished up here…
Liadrin, with a young blood elf girl in tow, approaches Mokvar, who’s munching on a bowl of noodles at one of the kiosks.
LIADRIN: Hello, Mokvar. It’s been too long.
MOKVAR: Liadrin! It’s good to see you again.
LIADRIN: I’m glad you’re finally back home. Things are smoothed over with Garrosh?
MOKVAR: They’re…a work in progress. But I’m managing. You’re in town for the festival, I’m guessing?
LIADRIN: After a fashion. I’ve actually been visiting Orgrimmar fairly regularly to help with Shayari since she arrived. When my duties in Silvermoon allow, of course.
MOKVAR: Right, so… I mean… is she really… you know… Garrosh’s daughter?
LIADRIN: That’s what all of Dr. Faranell’s tests indicate. If she’s a fraud, she’s a spectacularly effective one.
MOKVAR: How is Edwin, anyway?
LIADRIN: He’s well, so far as one can tell with him. I believe he’s around here some– Ah! Here she comes.
Shayari enters.
Shayari! A pleasure to see you.
SHAYARI: Hey, Liadrin. Beardy.
MOKVAR: Mokvar.
SHAYARI: Whatever.
LIADRIN: Shay, I’d like to introduce you to someone. Both of you, actually. This is my daughter, Salandria.
MOKVAR: I didn’t know you had children, Liadrin.
LIADRIN: I adopted Salandria some years ago, in the late stages of the Outland campaign. Initially to begin her training as a paladin, though she’s…currently exploring other career options.
SALANDRIA: In other words, she’s letting me take a year off to work on my music.
LIADRIN: <sighs> We all need some time “find” ourselves, I suppose… I’ve changed classes twice myself over the years, so I’m hardly one to criticize.
MOKVAR: Yeah, right there with you.
LIADRIN: At any rate. Being as Salandria is a bit younger than the other paladin trainees, I thought it might be nice for her to have the chance to make some friends from within her peer group, or close to it. Salandria, this is Mokvar, and Shayari.
SHAYARI: <waving> Hey.
SALANDRIA: Hi.
SHAYARI: Oh, hey, cool guitar!
SALANDRIA: Thanks.
MOKVAR: Do you lug that thing around everywhere? It looks pretty heavy.
SALANDRIA: A little, but you never know when inspiration is going to strike!
LIADRIN: As our neighbors in Silvermoon have become painfully aware…
SALANDRIA: Yeah, yeah, I bet they wouldn’t complain if I was playing… like… I don’t know… the harp or something. I bet that placeholder regent guy plays one of those.
LIADRIN: You mean Regent-Lord Theron.
SHALANDRIA: Yeah, that guy.
SHAYARI: You’ll get along well with Pops if you keep taking shots at Whosy-Whatsy like that.
MOKVAR: Is Garrosh around here?
LIADRIN: I haven’t seen him so far.
SHAYARI: I think he said something about coming by.
MOKVAR: Well, if nothing else, he’s not really one to miss a party, so…
SALANDRIA: Oh, hey, sounds like I really would hit it off with ol’ Garry.
LIADRIN and MOKVAR: No.
SHAYARI: Really, seriously, don’t.
SALANDRIA: Huh?
Gurtash and Ruekie enter, holding noodle bowls, and approach the group.
MOKVAR: Do not call him that.
SHAYARI: For real.
GURTASH: Don’t call who what?
SHAYARI: Pops, “Garry.”
RUEKIE: Oh jeepers, no!
GURTASH: No no no no no, don’t do that!
SALANDRIA: Yeesh, why?
SHAYARI: He does not like it when people call him that. For some reason.
MOKVAR: He’s killed for less.
GURTASH: Like, literally.
SALANDRIA: Huh. Okay…
LIADRIN: And hello, Gurtash. I’m happy to see you’re up and well.
GURTASH: Thanks.
SALANDRIA: What happened to him?
SHAYARI: Pip got himself sliced up by a drakonid. Also, hey Pip.
SALANDRIA: Ouch!
GURTASH: Hey.
SHAYARI: I know, right?
GURTASH: She said, as if she was the one getting cut up…
SALANDRIA: Is that how you got your scar?
Gurtash shifts uneasily.
’Cause it looks kinda fresh.
GURTASH: Uh… yeah.
SHAYARI: You know, that could have gotten even more awkward if the answer had been no.
RUEKIE: It’s really not so bad, Gurtash…
GURTASH: Yeah, I guess.
SALANDRIA: It actually looks kinda badass, Pip.
GURTASH: That’s not my name!
SHAYARI: <snickering>
SALANDRIA: Oh. Um…
RUEKIE: He doesn’t like it when people call him that.
SALANDRIA: So it’s kind of like his “Garry”?
SHAYARI: Other than the fact that no on really takes it seriously in his case, sure.
GURTASH: My name is Gurtash.
SHAYARI: He really does get wound up about it when people call him Pip.
GURTASH: You’re the only one that does.
SHAYARI: Okay. When I call him Pip.
SALANDRIA: Why do you call him that, then?
SHAYARI: Because he gets really wound up about it? I just said! He’s a real pip about it. Oh hey, there we go again.
GURTASH: Anyway… I’m Gurtash.
SALANDRIA: Hi. Salandria.
LIADRIN: Gurtash is one of the Warchief’s military trainees. And this is… I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve met your friend, Gurtash.
RUEKIE: My name’s Rue’kara. People call me Ruekie, though.
GURTASH: She’s another trainee like me.
LIADRIN: Ah, I see. I don’t think I’ve met any of Garrosh’s warrior proteges other than you, Gurtash.
GURTASH: Well, we’re not all warriors.
RUEKIE: I’m a shaman.
LIADRIN: Oh. I suppose I’d just assumed, since Garrosh is…well, rather emphatically a warrior himself.
GURTASH: A lot of us are, like– oh, hey, there they are over there — like Korrina and Kulkesh–
Gurtash waves to try to catch their attention across the festival grounds.
Nope. No go, they don’t see me. Anyhow, yeah, a lot of us are warriors, but there are a bunch like Ruekie who aren’t.
RUEKIE: Tuekie’s a rogue.
SHAYARI: Wait, who?
RUEKIE: Tuekie, my twin sister.
GURTASH: She’s a trainee, too.
RUEKIE: She just didn’t come with us to Pandaria, so she’s a little behind.
SHAYARI: Wait, your parents named her Tuekie?
RUEKIE: Well, Tue’kara.
SHAYARI: Right, but… after they named you Rue’kara?
RUEKIE: I think she was first by a couple minutes, actually.
SHAYARI: Okay, fine, concurrently, whatever. You’re missing the point.
RUEKIE: No, I get it. <shrugs> My parents are weird.
SALANDRIA: Right there with you.
LIADRIN: Salandria.
MOKVAR: It DOES seem pretty cruel to give twins names that rhyme.
RUEKIE: I know, I know…
SHAYARI: Sorry, Rue…
GURTASH: But yeah, there’s Tuekie, and Tov’osh. And Giska’s a monk, even.
RUEKIE: I think she’s– oh, yeah, there she is, helping the monk trainer set up.
SHAYARI: Her class trainer’s got her doing odd jobs setting up for a noodle festival?
GURTASH: Looks like it.
MOKVAR: I’m surprised Garrosh doesn’t do something like that with you kids.
GURTASH: <holding up sketch pad> Um, hello?
MOKVAR: Okay, point taken. But I mean, with ALL of you.
RUEKIE: Don’t give him ideas!
SALANDRIA: You mean he doesn’t? Huh, maybe I should look into being a warrior if the rock star thing doesn’t work out, what with the all the chores I was getting socked with as a pally-in-training…
LIADRIN: Don’t you get started about your apprenticeship duties again.
SALANDRIA: I’m just saying, I don’t really see what cleaning up after refugees had to do with perfecting my Crusader Strike!
LIADRIN: It was community service!
SALANDRIA: Suuuuuure…
SHAYARI: All I know is, Eddie’s got another thing coming if he starts trying to get me to do that kind of random crap for him.
SALANDRIA: Who’s Eddie?
SHAYARI: He’s my mage trainer. At least when he’s not preoccupied with making snarky comments about everything.
LIADRIN: Salandria, that’s the Dr. Faranell I’ve mentioned.
SALANDRIA: Oh, the dead guy? He’s that Eddie?
MOKVAR: Edwin.
SALANDRIA: Huh?
MOKVAR: He goes by Edwin. You probably don’t want to try calling him Eddie.
SHAYARI: Why? I always do.
LIADRIN: I’m sure “Dr. Faranell” will suffice.
SHAYARI: That’s so formal, though! I prefer Eddie.
SALANDRIA: Yeesh, you guys really like to call people things they don’t like, don’t you?
MOKVAR: You haven’t even met Garrosh yet…
GURTASH: Well, some of us do, yeah.
SHAYARI: Oh, it’ll grow on you, Pip.
MOKVAR: <to Liadrin> Are you sure you want to get her mixed up in all this?
LIADRIN: Completely sure? Hardly. But, better for her to have some contact with a few peers.
RUEKIE: There aren’t other blood elf kids in Silvermoon?
LIADRIN: There are, but… well, not all of them are necessarily the best influences.
MOKVAR: As opposed to the vast improvement you’re seeing here?
SHAYARI: Hey, we’re pretty damn cool, Beardy.
RUEKIE: Yeah!
GURTASH: Wait for it…
SHAYARI: At least the me part of the we.
RUEKIE: Hey!
GURTASH: Boom.
RUEKIE: Oh… Oh, hey, is that a guitar?
SALANDRIA: Yup!
RUEKIE: Do you play?
SHAYARI: No, she just carries it around to trick people.
RUEKIE: Are you good?
SALANDRIA: I’m getting there! That’s what I want to do. Someday I’m gonna open for the Elite Tauren Chieftains.
LIADRIN: Just so long as you keep your Tauren Chieftains ambitions limited to–
SALANDRIA: And marry Sig Nicious!
LIADRIN: Salandria…
SHAYARI: Okay, well, he is kinda cute.
RUEKIE: Which one is he?
MOKVAR: The kinda-cute one, I guess?
SALANDRIA: My future husband, that’s who!
LIADRIN: Salandria, even setting aside how unlikely it is that you would even meet him, you and I both know he’s much too old for you.
SALANDRIA: He is not!
LIADRIN: He’s in his 230s!
SALANDRIA: So? Didn’t you tell me once that you dated that ranger guy when you were younger?
LIADRIN: What about it?
SALANDRIA: So he was a lot older than you! How come that was okay?
LIADRIN: All right, granted, I was half his age. You, on the other hand, are the square root of his age.
SALANDRIA: Oh come on!
Garrosh enters, carrying a large pot and wearing a chef’s hat and apron. Malkorok, carrying another large pot (and looking none to happy about it) enters with him.
MOKVAR: Um…
SHAYARI: <shaking her head while facepalming> Oh, Light, just take me now…
LIADRIN: Um… hello, Warchief.
MOKVAR: I mean… do we not give you enough crap already?
GURTASH: Uhh…
GARROSH: Why the fuck are you people staring at me like I just sprouted a second head?
SHAYARI: <muttering> Maybe that one would have enough sense not to leave the house looking like that…
LIADRIN: It’s only that that’s a very… colorful outfit, sir.
MOKVAR: That’s one way to put it.
GARROSH: Hey, look, if I’m gonna cook, I might as well look the part, all right?
MOKVAR: And I mean… are those… are those murloc oven mitts?
GARROSH: THEY WERE A HOUSEWARMING GIFT FROM EITRIGG WHEN I MOVED TO ORGRIMMAR, OKAY?
SHAYARI: Oh Light, it just keeps getting worse…
LIADRIN: <squinting> And… am I not seeing your apron correctly, or is that lettering…?
GARROSH: Oh. Yeah. It was originally one of those aprons that say “Kiss the Chef.”
SHAYARI: <meekly> And it just keeps coming…
LIADRIN: And now…?
GARROSH: Well now I’ve gotten it doctored up around the “Chef” part. With a “War” in front and an I squeezed into the middle.
LIADRIN: I see…
MOKVAR: Wait, you actually sat down and sewed that onto the apron?
SHAYARI: Oh spirits, can’t we just let it go away…?
GARROSH: No, you jackass, I didn’t sit down and sew the damn apron. Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I hired some tailors to fix it up for me.
SHAYARI: Wait, wait, hang on. This is important. You went to tailors about this?
GARROSH: Yeah, why?
SHAYARI: As in, tailors who run clothing stores kind of tailors?
GARROSH: Yeah, WHY?
SHAYARI: Okay, listen to me very carefully. Where exactly did you go for this?
GARROSH: Why the fuck does it even matter?
SHAYARI: Because I need to know who’s been made aware of this mana bomb of shame.
GARROSH: Huh. Let me think. I don’t even remember the name of the place…
SHAYARI: <pressing eyes closed and crossing fingers> Please say the goblin slums, please say the goblin slums, please say…
GARROSH: It was some place in Silvermoon, though.
SHAYARI: Oh Light…
LIADRIN: Oh dear. Shay, I hate to say this, but I think I might have had an unwitting hand in this…
SHAYARI: What did you do?!
GARROSH: Why the hell are you acting like me getting an apron is the damn apocalypse or something?
SHAYARI: You stay out of this!
GARROSH: Stay out of– I AM “THIS”!
LIADRIN: I was speaking with Garrosh a while back, and he’d asked me to recommend a tailor, so I pointed him toward a place in the Bazaar.
SHAYARI: Oh spirits save me…
LIADRIN: I didn’t know what he was looking for a tailor for specifically.
SHAYARI: Do you realize what you’ve done?! You didn’t stop and think why he might want a tailor?
LIADRIN: Well, to be fair, look at him. The possibilities are endless.
SHAYARI: Oh Light… which place?
GARROSH: Some “trusted” place, I think.
LIADRIN: Keelan’s Trustworthy Tailoring.
SHAYARI: Oh no… No, no, no, no…
GARROSH: They turned it around really quick, gotta say.
LIADRIN: They always do.
GARROSH: Dude did look at me kind of funny when he got the order, though.
SHAYARI: Well, there’s one store I can never show my face in again…
SALANDRIA: Uh, does he always walk around looking like this?
SHAYARI: Oh, yeah, sure, every day Azeroth rotates backwards and the skies turn orange.
SALANDRIA: I’m going to take that as a no.
MOKVAR: Good call.
GARROSH: Look, I don’t care what you people–
Garrosh looks at Mokvar.
Hey, hang on a minute.
He looks Mokvar over again.
So wait, did you go and change up on us AGAIN?
MOKVAR: What do you mean?
GARROSH: I mean, you were a shaman back before you ran off on your damn crazy train mission looking for your crystal doohicky, right?
MOKVAR: Right.
GARROSH: And then you came back and you’d become a warlock again.
RUEKIE: <aside> Ohh, is that what happened with him? Handy recap!
GURTASH: <aside> Ssshhh, I think it’s about to take one of those turns.
MOKVAR: Yeah…?
RUEKIE: <aside> How can you tell?
GURTASH: <aside> I’ve been tagging along for these conversations for a long time now…
GARROSH: Well, look at you. Are you back to being a shaman again now?
MOKVAR: <sighs> No, no…
GARROSH: Because if so, dude, you’ve got some SERIOUS problems with career indecision, let me tell you.
MOKVAR: No, I’m not a shaman again. I’m still a warlock.
GARROSH: So what’s up with the non-warlock-being getup?
MOKVAR: I’m just wearing my other suit! Not everyone has to wear the same thing every day.
SHAYARI: Oh thank Light I’m not the only one who realizes that. There might be hope for you yet, Beardy.
Liadrin leans to look into the pot Garrosh is carrying.
LIADRIN: I take it, sir, that you’ve decided to offer your own… contribution to the festival?
SALANDRIA: You know, that smells pretty good, whatever it is.
MOKVAR: It actually does…
GARROSH: Yeah, I figured what the hell, I might as well get in on it a little.
LIADRIN: Most commendable, sir. What is it, exactly?
GARROSH: I doctored up one of Greatmother’s old recipes and whipped up some spicy talbuk noodles.
LIADRIN: I must admit, sir, I didn’t realize that you cooked.
GARROSH: Garadar chili cook off champion, I’ll have you know.
MOKVAR: Weren’t you actually first runner up?
GARROSH: Not after Grok’nar had that unfortunate incident with the severe head trauma from several large rocks. Which I’m sure they’ll rule was natural causes if they ever find his body.
SHAYARI: I have to admit, he’s actually not a bad cook.
LIADRIN: I see you’re a man of many talents, sir.
GARROSH: You know, it’s funny, you’re not the first blood elf woman to tell me that.
SHAYARI: <cringing> You realize you’re just making my future therapy bills worse…
GARROSH: …this week.
SHAYARI: Welp, there’s two more months right there.
GARROSH: I guess I just need ol’ Lunchbox to get me set up at a station or something.
GURTASH: It looks like he’s getting some more setup done with Giska over there.
RUEKIE: I’ll try to watch for them, sir.
LIADRIN: In the meantime, Garrosh, allow me to introduce my daughter, Salandria. I’m sure, conversely, the Warchief needs no introduction.
GARROSH: Oh, yeah, I remember you mentioning her.
SALANDRIA: Hi, sir. Nice tats.
GARROSH: Huh. Thanks. Traditional Warsong markings.
SALANDRIA: They’re cool. <leaning and looking behind Garrosh> Soooooo, how far down do they go…?
LIADRIN: Salandria, don’t start!
SALANDRIA: I’m just asking!
LIADRIN: You know perfectly well.
SHAYARI: <squeezing eyes closed> Ohhh, spirits, please don’t let this become a thing.
GARROSH: Well, while we’re waiting on Pudge, some of you people might as well dig in for some of the talbuk-noodly goodness.
SALANDRIA: Bah, I still need to get a bowl.
MOKVAR: Here, I’ve got mine.
Mokvar passes a bowl over to Garrosh, who spoons out some noodles.
GARROSH: Yeah, here, try not to get any in your beard for once.
Garrosh holds the bowl out to Mokvar. Before Mokvar can take it, Deliana unstealths and grabs it from Garrosh’s hand.
DELIANA: Thanks! Smells good!
Deliana stealths again and vanishes.
GARROSH: Um.
Garrosh blinks, then turns back to Malkorok.
Seriously, dude, a little fucking SECURITY up in this bitch? Isn’t that kind of your whole fucking JOB?
MALKOROK: Ugh, apologies, Warchief. Although this does illustrate some issues we’ve been… ugh, regardless… <waving to nearby guards, then approaching them> Kor’kron!
GARROSH: Wait, actually…
Garrosh turns back to Mokvar.
How is it, exactly, that your little human friend is SNEAKING INTO ORGRIMMAR?
MOKVAR: Garrosh, you’ve met her. Do you really think I could make her stay away even if I wanted?
GARROSH: Yeah, well, if Malk manages to track her down, you better not hold your breath waiting for her to turn up again. Anyway, in the meantime, you can wait for your helping until she brings back your damn bowl. So… who else is up?
RUEKIE: I’d like to try some, sir!
GARROSH: Yeah, okay. Here.
Garrosh spoons a large portion of noodles into Ruekie’s bowl.
RUEKIE: Oh, wow, sir. You sure know how to give a girl a mouthful!
Everyone stares at Ruekie for a moment.
Oh gosh! I didn’t– I mean– I– I’m gonna stop talking now.
MOKVAR: At least you’ve got noodles.
Deliana unstealths and drops an empty bowl into Mokvar’s hands.
DELIANA: Here you go! Good stuff!
Deliana stealths again and vanishes.
GARROSH: <bellowing over at Malkorok> UH, MALK, ANYTIME YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE WANNA GET YOUR HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES WOULD BE TERRIFIC!
SALANDRIA: Is this what it’s usually like with you guys?
SHAYARI: You have no idea.
{As it turns out, the Pandaren Noodle Festival brought far more absurdity than I could hope to pack into one post, so our Orgrimmar block party will continue soon, with appearances from even more of our supporting cast. TO BE CONTINUED soon — stay tuned…}
Warchiefing for dummies
So it occurs to me that not everybody is a natural leader like I am, but maybe you’re in a position where you’re saddled with some kind of authority. Maybe you didn’t even ask for the job, but it got handed to you anyway. You’re probably in over your head, actually, what with you not being ME or anything, but you’ve got the job regardless and now you’ve got to make the best of it. And so I know what you’re thinking: “Dammit, Garrosh, how can I be awesome like you at this?”
Well, I’ve got good news and bad news for you, skipper. The bad news is, sorry, you can’t be awesome like me. Let’s be real here, right? But the good news is that you CAN at least learn to suck a little less. And to help you out with that, here comes your favorite Warchief to lay down the ins and outs of kickass, badass, all-around-ass pro leadership.
Or: WARCHIEFING FOR DUMMIES.
Now before everybody starts shitting themselves based on the title, don’t panic, I’m not going anywhere. I’m not getting ready to hand off leadership to somebody else, and even if I did I would probably just be trolling or some shit. No, don’t worry, you get to look forward to having ol’ Garrosh in charge for a good long time still.
What this IS is a set of handy-dandy guidelines for making the most of your own leadership position. Maybe you’re a military commander. Like me. Or maybe you’re a guild leader on Earth Online. Like me. Or maybe you run your own… I don’t know, you run your own diner, like a barbeque place specializing in the awesomeness of pork, maybe call it Bacon R Us or something. Which, holy shit, if that place DOESN’T already exist, somebody needs to get on the stick and open it like pronto, because I’ll be over for dinner like fucking TONIGHT. Table for two, 7:15. Make sure you’ve got extra sauce stocked.
Point is, though, if you don’t have the benefit of being ME, then you could probably benefit from getting a little more me-ness in your operation. So, here’s your very own personal desperately needed guide to getting some Garrosh in you. (Ladies.)
So, let’s get down to some Warchiefing.
THE BASICS
So, this first point should be painfully obvious to anyone who isn’t stupid, but if there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that assuming someone isn’t stupid is almost always a losing proposition. So I’ll go ahead and point out the obvious to you fuckers: being an authority figure means having authority OVER someone. And the more authority you have, the more of those someones you’ve got, until you make your way all the way up to my level, where you’re so much of a boss that people look at you and try to fathom just how much of a boss you are and their heads just go blank and all they can come up with is “??” Only you’re NOT really going to make your way up to that level, because that level is my level, and nobody else is going to reach that level while I’m around, so don’t go getting any ideas.
SO.
If you’re the person in charge, that means you have minions. Hopefully, your minions aren’t as FUCKING INCOMPETENT as most of MY minions, but, you know, good luck there. Point is, though, one way or another, those minions are what you’ve got to work with. Which leads us to our first few Warchiefing guidelines:
USE YOUR DAMN MINIONS
This should be pretty obvious — you might be noticing a theme developing already — but let’s be honest here. If obvious shit was really obvious to everyone, they wouldn’t need me to point it out. Obvious is only obvious to people with enough brains to see the… obviosity. YES THAT’S A FUCKING WORD. Obviously.
The point is, your minions are there to work for you. So put them to work. Delegate. Figure out what your minions don’t completely suck at, and get those motherfuckers busy doing that. If at all possible, also try to watch out for what they DO completely suck at, and then, don’t let them do that. This last item might be hard to manage, depending on how stupid the minions in question are. One way or another, though, get them working. If the shit they’re able to do lines up with shit you’d just as soon avoid yourself, by the way? WIN-WIN.
Case in point: when I first became Warchief, one of the biggest surprises was just how much time I ended up being stuck with paperwork. Like you would not BELIEVE how many forms need to get filled out in an average day of running an ambiguously structured quasi-totalitarian regime the dictatorial nature of which only became questionable to anyone once it was being run by the guy WITHOUT the fucking messiah complex. I think I might have digressed a little there. But anyway. I had all this paperwork piling, form after form to fill out, and hoo boy was that eating up my day and leaving me precious little time to… you know… play computer games and write EPIC VERSE. And just… be awesome and stuff. But LO AND BEHOLD, right there in Grommash Hold with me was old man Eitrigg, with his nice tidy penmanship and his cushy retirement plan that he didn’t want to cash in on even though he was like a zillion years old, and his charming habit of bitching and moaning to me about everything and anything if he didn’t have something to keep him otherwise occupied. So what did I do? That’s right, I KEPT HIS ASS FUCKING OCCUPIED.
Actually, scratch that. That made it sound vaguely dirty, and OH SHIT I bet Rule 34 has already engaged. Shit. Okay, well, moving on.
The point is, I shuffled that paperwork right on over to the old dude, and let him worry about “in triplicate” being a depressingly recurrent phrase in his life, while I freed myself up to get back to things more in line with my Warchieferous stature. DELEGATION, bitches.
So, as much as possible, you need to have a clear, solid sense of what your people have going for them, so you can use them effectively. Here, take a few examples of what I’m talking about:
So, see, that gives you a basic sense of what you need to know about what your people bring to the table. Actually, come to think of it, that could be a pretty cool resource: like have a table where you could have all that information about your minions gathered in one place, and then you use it to assign them to whatever missions need to be covered, and then you can dispatch them right from there.
Hmm.
Actually, fuck that. I bet that setup would be cool for like a week or two, then become fucking BORING. Fuck that. I don’t want to be stuck at a damn desk all the time. I want to get out there and do some stuff myself. OKAY THEN, on second thought:
HANDS-ON LEADERSHIP
Let’s be honest here. Contrary to what the touchy-feely motherfuckers of the world would have you believe, it’s not a matter of stepping back and letting your people do their job and trusting them not to fuck it up. They’re GOING to fuck it up, okay? I’m just telling you the facts here. The fucking math doesn’t lie. Odds are, they’re going to fuck something up. You could give them a job to do that’s got, like, a fucking 99% chance of working, and just you watch them dig down deep and crowbar their stupid asses into that 1%. And that’s when you sometimes have to be ready to get out there in the field and show those dumbasses how shit gets done. So whether it’s blood elves who can’t figure out why they’re getting their baby teeth kicked in by a bunch of statues, or blood elves who think it’s a hot idea to send one random scrub into an enemy lair, or blood elves… I don’t know. Some third thing. Probably involving blood elves. POINT IS, don’t be afraid to roll up your sleeves and take matters into your own hands.
For one thing, it’s good for morale when the troops see you out there in the trenches with them. Plus, that way, when they DO fuck up, and then you pimp in and show them how fucking easy it is for a non-jackass to do things, well, you’ve already given them enough rope to hang themselves, so now you get to come down like a mountain of hellfire on them, and if they happen to leave some rope literally lying around the joint, maybe even ACTUALLY hang them. Because THAT’S how you make sure that the NEXT batch of minions sees what happens when fuckuppery ensues, and maybe get more motivated to have their asses in gear than the last (late) bunch of minions.
See, at the end of the day, it’s all about the tough love.
So go on, get out there, kick some ass, take some names, then use the names to yell at the motherfuckers while you kick their asses some more. You’ll feel better, believe me.
THE BIG PICTURE
The biggest reason you want to delegate, though, isn’t because you’re lazy, or because you want to amuse yourself watching the B-listers try to stay on top of an A-list job and almost certainly shit all over themselves as a result, or because you prefer spending your time eating an assortment of tasty lemon squares off of an assortment of tasty groupies. I mean, you probably do, because really, but that’s not the main reason. The most important reason to delegate is because the jobs you’re going to delegate, no matter how important they might be, they’re just the DETAILS. But YOU are the one who’s mapped out how those details are going to add up to something. You’re the one thinking five steps ahead. You’re the man with the plan. OR WOMAN, OR WOMAN, DON’T START WRITING FUCKING LETTERS, GEEZ.
Point is, you’re the one who’s got it all figured out, because seriously, does THAT sound like a job you want to leave to the Dontrags and Utvochs of the world? No, of course not. They don’t know what the fuck’s going on. When you send your minions into a situation, they don’t have the sense to realize all the things that could go wrong. But YOU do — you know perfectly well all the ways the operation could — probably WILL — end up blowing up in everyone’s face. So you need to stay freed up to continue figuring out all the reasons why the mission is doomed to failure and is probably a bad idea to begin with, and then send their asses out to give it the ol’ college try anyway. Probably the ol’ COMMUNITY college try, given the likely state of your minions, but still.
That’s all I’ve got for now. I might add to it another time if more unfathomable genius comes to me.
More soon.
House Call
You know, I have to say, I was fine with it — more or less — when Garrosh ordered me to take up inscription. And I wasn’t in much of a position to object when he assigned me to be a spy, essentially, with Neeru Fireblade. But all kidding aside, I really may have to draw the line if he gets it in his head to make me be a veterinarian, too.
For the time being, I suppose it’s good to have a break from the Cleft of Shadow and Ragefire Chasm, if only for an afternoon. Garrosh asked me to go over to the Valley of Honor today, to the main stables. Garrosh has been in contact with one of the kennel masters there, Ogunaro Wolfrunner, off and on for a little while now, and evidently there’s been a problem with one of his wolves. Ordinarily, that wouldn’t be a job for me; I don’t know much about wolves other than how to ride one. In this case, though, Garrosh said there was a situation that might call for — how did he put it? — my unique set of skills. Based on what Ogunaro reported, it seemed like this wolf’s situation might have connections to the magics of both shamans and warlocks. And, well, given the string of career changes I’ve compiled over the years…
Just like me to fall ass-backwards into being an “expert” without ever feeling like I know what I’m doing. Oh well.
Ogunaro seems like a good enough guy. Really earnest. I mean really, REALLY earnest. He seems like the kind of guy you’d love to have in your corner, so long as you don’t have to actually talk to him too much. It just gets exhausting after a while, you know?
He took me to a pen he’d set up out back for this wolf — named Golmash, evidently, after Garrosh’s grandfather. (Not that I’m one to talk, but really, could this guy be trying any harder to ingratiate himself to Garrosh?) The wolf had an indoor stable, plus a small pen outside, set apart from the other wolves. Even though it was a pretty nice day today, Golmash didn’t seem to have much interest in going outside; he just stood around in his shelter, mostly staying in one corner. Ogunaro said that was pretty typical for the wolf — keeping to himself and hovering around in the shadows.
I ended up spending a couple hours studying Golmash. Ogunaro was right; there’s something not quite right about him. The wolf’s eyes glowed green, the same pale, sickly green shade that I know only too well. Definitely unnatural. Definitely unnerving to look at. The weird thing is, as much as I tried to get a read on him, I couldn’t detect any of the telltale signs of fel magic. At least nothing resembling a curse, or a fel affliction of some sort… Something’s wrong about that wolf, but for the life of me I can’t think of any spell I could cast on him that would come close to having that effect.
And then there’s the growl. Golmash was mostly quiet while I was there, but at one point, I tried to move closer to him while I cast a few spells. Thank goodness we had a couple Kor’kron beastmasters on hand to rein him in — he jumped and snapped at me, and… that growl.
How did Ogunaro describe it? “Hollow”? I suppose someone could describe it that way. Someone with no experience with shamanism. There was the echo, yes… like the overlapping barks of the spirit wolves a shaman can summon, layered over each other, only coming from one source. But that’s not a hollow sound to me. It’s full. Like the wolf has more in its voice than even its voice can contain.
Anyway, at that point, it was pretty clear that Golmash was in no mood for any more nonsense from me, plus I already had a few things to think about. Which is what I’ve been doing since I’ve been home.
I have an idea or two — or the beginnings of them, at least — but there are a few more things I need to check out. There are possibilities I have to check, and more than a little research for me to do. Some of which might send me back over to one of my other side jobs that I never asked for.
But I think I might be on to something.
I hope I’m wrong.
Mokvar
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
A day in the life
So, the last few mailbags have gotten me thinking. I’ve been getting a bunch of questions about pretty regular day-to-day things in my life — nuts and bolts about what I do and why. Just another part of being a celebrity, I guess, and a pretty damn awesome one at that. Point is, with all the crazy crap that goes on around here, I think I might have gotten so busy keeping everyone updated on the BIG NEWSY stuff that I haven’t bothered talking about anything else. Which, you know, was kind of the POINT of writing the damn blog in the first place. You know. THOUGHTS AND MUSINGS AND SHIT.
Well, maybe not shit. Not literally. Because gross.
Point is, though, I’m going to try to be a little better about posting on the NON-BIG-GIANT-WORLD-ALTERING stuff that’s going on or that I have in mind or whatever. So, for those of you interested in more of an inside look at what it’s like to be me (short version: way better than it is to be you), here, have a peek into a sample of a day in the life of everyone’s favorite Warchief.
(That would be ME, you UNGRATEFUL SMARTASSES out there.)
8:09 AM – Woke up. Rolled out of bed. Pulled razor across my head. (I try to be diligent about shaving. Wouldn’t be a big deal if I only had some stubble on my FACE — the tattoos would make it hard to see anyway — but if it starts getting visible on top, you start seeing what a bad draw I got as far as middle-aged hairlines go. I’ll tell you, my mother’s side of the family must have had some fucking awful hair, because I sure as hell didn’t get mine from Grom.)
8:16 AM – Morning jog around Grommash Hold. Worked up good sweat but noticed several vendors conspicuously absent. Unable to amuse self by slapping them on the way by. Possibly vendors getting wise. Two years later. Never said they were sharpest tools. Disappointing nonetheless. Post-slap reactions always good for chuckle. Especially troll.
8:43 AM – Bacon. Also: more bacon.
8:51 AM – Kafa. Really not bad at all. Maybe should have listened to Ruekie about Starbulls earlier. Remember to check with her about other blends later. Potential application of haste buff stacking with Recklessness.
9:00 AM – Budget review meeting with Eitrigg. Gramps raised some concerns about an increase in the “Warchief discretionary spending” category. Don’t even get me started.
10:00 AM – Staff meeting with Malkorok, Overlord Runthak, and Overseer Elaglo. Updates on a number of projects, plus a few security oddities from Malk. Mokvar working with Xorenth today, so Taktani recording notes. Malkorok less than pleased. Can’t really blame him. Some sensitive topics, so not publishing transcript.
11:32 AM – On way out after meeting, had to suffer through, and minimize, small talk with Dontrag. Or Utvoch. Not sure. Apparently waiting for Tak after meeting. Luckily escaped when she came out.
11:36 AM – Note to self: Check on which one of D&U is which.
11:37 AM – Followup note to self: Don’t really give shit which is which. Disregard previous.
11:45 AM – Shayari gets back from morning of mage training with Faranell in Undercity. As per recommendation, Doc showed her Ice Block today. Apparently never bothered picking it up because she’s a fire mage. Dalaran, Shmalaran. Don’t know what those fuckers were teaching her.
Shay also delivered (another) invoice from Faranell for his jaw replacement. Can’t possibly really be that expensive. Also not crazy about Materials; “headhunting” and acquisition line item. Bad feeling about this.
12:20 PM – Lunch at Broken Tusk. Pretty good special, “Agamaggan’s pulled pork.” Needs bacon, though. Then again, what doesn’t?
12:36 PM – While eating, interrupted by Dontrag. Or Utvoch. Not sure. Not the one from earlier. Other one. Yammered on about something. Difficult to follow as I wasn’t listening. Can only assume that sounds of me eating sounded to him like “Tell me about your life.” Really crossed the line, though, when he started going on and on about wanting to set up a double date for him and the other one.* Thought of those two on dates led to prospect of them breeding. Lost appetite at that point and left. See, proves my point about bacon. Would have still been worth it in that case.
* Not with me. Double date for them and two someones (sometwos?) else. Not me. Even bacon couldn’t have salvaged that shit if so.
1:30 PM – Combat drills with trainees. Focus today on defensive maneuvers, parrying, mitigation skills. Overall decent performance. Korrina still a little reckless. Rook possibly a little too quick to hit “oh shit” buttons, but growing more adept at self-heals. Bodes well for group use, maybe occasional off-healing. Giska doing well with unarmed combat, blocking especially, skill less successful while using a weapon. Possibly check with Lunchbox on this. Tuekie, Zorekk coming along well, performance gap remains but growing less conspicuous. Mirembe and Tov’osh still on training maneuvers in Northrend.
3:00 PM – Extra melee practice with Gurtash. Trying to ease him back in but he’s still a little slow to pick things back up. Very hesitant. Hit accuracy seems uncompromised by injury, so that’s good. Kept to short session today. Don’t want to discourage him but combat skills need to take major step forward if he’s to perform honorably. And survive. More side sessions to follow.
4:00 PM – Hop onto Earth Online. Not going to bother logging guild chat — only getting on for a few minutes to check auctions and knock out a few dailies, then I’ll be logging off.
6:11 PM – Finally logged off of Earth Online. Man. Game really goes have a way of sucking you in and burning the day. Didn’t even really do anything especially fun. Didn’t even really do much of ANYTHING. Two hours gone anyway. How the hell does Genesis do it? Check on this — could have potential mind control / military applications. Make mental note for next meeting with Blackfuse and/or Draz’Zilb. And of course, Shay had to pop in and snarky comments about nerdy gaming. Again.
6:20 PM – Tried to take Shay to this new barbecue place over in the Drag for dinner. When we arrived, found Dontrag and Utvoch there.
Positive: Both there, so no need to worry about who’s who.
Negative: Both there.
Double negative: Don’t CARE who’s who, which cancels out positive above. (Math nerds: Yes, in this case double negative cancels the positive and not the negatives. Don’t get panties in a bunch. Also: HEAD HURTS.)
Triple negative: They were chatty.
6:22 PM – Got the fuck out of there and headed home. I’ll send for takeout, dammit. Fuck that noise. (Literal noise.)
6:27 PM – Passed by Kodohide Leatherworkers on way home. Had to drag Shay away to avoid shopping spree. She stuck head in doorway, entire staff greeted her by name. Fuck me.
7:21 PM – Shay tries to conjure lemon squares for dessert. Not something that usually promises much success but she decides she wants to try it anyway. Goes about as well as you might expect.
7:34 PM – Leave note for repair crew to come by tomorrow to take care of damage to kitchen. Not looking forward to bill. Also make mental note to talk to Faranell about the lemon square thing or failure thereof. What the hell am I paying for. Remember this next time he tries griping about the bill for his damn jaw.
Training wheels
So now that Gurtash is up and about again — mostly — I can finally stop worrying about WHETHER he’s waking up, and get back to a few pieces of business involving him that have been on the shelf for a while now. Side note, by the way — I don’t know who was more relieved when the kid finally came around, me or the healers I had working on him. I might possibly have said something that left them with the impression that if Gurtash didn’t recover, they might be staring down the barrel of a “physician, heal thyself” type of situation, promptly followed by a “dead man, bury thyself” type of situation.
Anyhow, moot point, now that the kid is awake and mostly mended. The healers tell me he’s going to need a little more recovery time, but that doesn’t have to stop me from doing some planning for his training regimen going forward. Because obviously, the fact that he wound up where he was means I haven’t been doing a good enough job whipping him into shape with the warrioring. Which is kind of strange, seeing as I was giving him combat pointers, off and on, before the trainee program even started, and yet, somehow, he’s ended up being less advanced than a bunch of the other kids. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like he’s got no skills whatsoever — he’s got some pretty good aim when it comes to precision strikes, which lots of people struggle with early on, and he moves around well in combat. Generally. When he’s not, you know, getting blindsided by spectral spook dudes. But, speaking of that, he also has all kinds of problems keeping his guard up, and…well, a bunch of issues.
Meanwhile, we have other trainees in his unit who’ve come a lot further a lot faster. I’m not even going to count Korrina, because hell, she comes from the fucking Saurfang family tree, and let’s face it, good luck to the first lumberjack who to get any bright ideas about THAT tree, because the tree would take one chop the lumberjack and then cleave his fucking head clean OFF. With a branch. Which would also somehow be an axe.
So, yeah, not even counting Korrina. But then you’ve got kids like Kulkesh, who’s been shaping up really well with the dual wielding — which served me pretty damn well back in the day before I had Gorehowl passed to me — and even Mirembe, who’s been bouncing around on training assignments since she wasn’t able to come to Pandaria, and seems to embracing the whole shield-slam-tanky thing. Or even someone like Giska, who isn’t even a warrior but has some pretty good moves from her whole Kung-Fu-Panda monk business, and by the way I seriously need to get her to show me how to do that crazy knock-you-out-cold neck pinch thing.
Anyway, point being, I need to come up with something to do with the kid to get him caught up, so this stuff doesn’t keep happening. I might try talking to Lantresor while I’m at it, see if he’s got any suggestions for alternate training methods. He’s pretty seriously badass in his own right and he must have had to train a few apprentice blademasters in his day, so we’ll have to see.
But, there’s still time to worry about calling in Lantresor. I can start easing him back into training by myself the next few days, then go from there. For the time being, it’s just as well for me to lay off and let Gurtash get himself recovered. In the meantime, we were finally able to get around to one other bit of business that was on the shelf for too long.
Some of you might remember that a few weeks ago, one of our kennel masters here in Orgrimmar, Ogunaro Wolfrunner, wrote in to my mailbag and offered one of the wolves he’d been raising — a young worg named Grimjaw — to serve in the Kor’kron mounted forces. He’s a fine wolf. Strong and agile like Ogunaro promised. Still a little on the small side, but then he IS still pretty young, with some more growing to do. But that just puts him that much further ahead of the game.
I brought Gurtash down to the Kor’kron stables earlier today. What with the good job he’s done helping take care of Mortimer the last year or so, I told him, it made sense for him to have a mount of his own to take care of. He was going to be coming up on his riding training soon anyway, so I figured he might as well start right off with the worg he’d be riding for a while. A young one, barely past being a pup — not unlike the kid himself — that could grow with him. Hopefully for a good long while. Well, for however long worgs live, anyway.
I’d planned to give Grimjaw to Gurtash ever since Ogunaro offered him. Obviously, that plan ended up having a big monkey wrench thrown into it for a while, what with Gurtash’s whole fiasco up in Blackrock Spire. As it turns out, though, having the kid out of commission for a couple weeks might have been a blessing in disguise. The one thing I’d been concerned about with Gimjaw was whether he would take to Gurtash. Worgs are pretty strong-willed by nature, and even as a young one, Grimjaw was pretty strong and formidable. And seeing as Gurtash wasn’t exactly an experienced rider yet, it made sense to be a little wary about what would happen if Grimjaw was standoffish and Gurtash maybe tried to force himself on the wolf too much too soon. While Gurtash was out cold, though, I took the opportunity to try to stack the deck for him. After the first few days the kid was resting, I had the healers swap out one of his blankets. I took it over to the stables, and used it to line the bedding in Grimjaw’s stall. Every few days after that, when they changed Gurtash’s sheets, I did the same. Kept a fresh-ish blanket with Grimjaw. Let him pick up the kid’s scent.
It ended up paying off. When I brought Gurtash over to the stables, Grimjaw was napping on his pile of furs and blankets. When he woke up, he made his way over to Gurtash and started sniffing at him. He warmed right up to the kid and kept hovering around near him the whole time we were there. Well, the whole time I was there. After a little while, I needed to go to get to a meeting with Overlord Runthak. At that point, I was going to take Gurtash back over to the Valley of Wisdom to drop him off… only he was too busy playing around with Grimjaw to notice me trying to get his attention. So I figured I’d let him hang out there while I went to my meeting. It was a secure building, after all, with Kor’kron all over the place, so it’s not like he wouldn’t be safe enough by himself.
I was gone for a couple of hours. When I went back to pick him up, he was still at it with the wolf. This time they were running around together in the fenced-in pen they have out back, chasing each other in circles. Gurtash had managed to grab a pigskin somewhere, and every so often he’d toss it across the pen and let Grimjaw take off after it. He didn’t even notice I’d come back at first, so I just hung back and watched them for a little while.
When I finally rounded him up to head back to the Valley of Wisdom, he spent the whole walk over asking me about coming back to the stables tomorrow, and when he can get started on his riding training. Even when I tried to go over the plan for his return to combat training, the kid kept dragging it back to riding instead. Guess I can’t blame him. I dropped him off and checked in with the healers, then tried stopping by the orphanage to see about some other leftover business. Matron Battlewail wasn’t around, though, so I guess I’ll have to try again some other time.
Pretty good day overall, I gotta say. Pretty good.
More soon.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Battle scars (part 4)
Battle scars (part 3)
* When Gurtash was injured in Blackrock Spire, he had just intervened to help Spazzle fight off a spectral assassin.
{ONE MORE INSTALLMENT ON THE WAY, AFTER MONDAY’S MAILBAG…}
Battle scars (part 2)
* Yes, it’s been a while from our point of view since Gurtash was injured here, but within the world of the blog, it’s “only” been ten days. Think comic book time, people! (You know, where three issues of Batman come out over three months from our perspective, but narrate the events of two days from Batman’s point of view.)
{CONTINUED SOON…}
Battle scars (part 1)
* Gurtash was wounded by a spectral assassin here and had been unconscious ever since he was rushed back to Orgrimmar.
{CONTINUED SOON™…}
