Tag Archives: tauren
They couldn’t have just been bored and jerkish…
Okay, so now I’m getting worried.
I’ve spent the day in Brackenwall Village with Krog, Dontrag and Utvoch, and the ogre seer Draz’Zilb, all working on getting some information from the Grimtotem prisoner. Things really weren’t going anywhere for the longest time…I’ll give this Grimtotem credit, he had a really strong will, and even after I was giving him a pretty sound beating, he wouldn’t make so much as a peep. Or a moo, I guess.
This was another one of those cases where I don’t want to lose any details, so I had Mokvar come with me to Brackenwall so he can keep a transcript of the interrogation. Glad I had him go train up inscription, gotta say. So, here’s the record of the session, at least after the first couple hours of me smacking the fucker around without much gain…
GARROSH: Okay, so you know, as much as I’m enjoying beating on this guy, I don’t think it’s really getting us anywhere.
KROG: Maybe we just need more knives? I’m pretty fond of knives myself.
GARROSH: Better than a good sound barefisted thrashing?
KROG: Oh yeah, a good clean stab can be way satisfying. Knives and daggers, either way.
GARROSH: Well yeah, but you’re a rogue. That doesn’t help us with this.
KROG: What do you mean?
GARROSH: You’ll just end up stun-locking him. It doesn’t do us any good at all if we’re just keeping him silenced.
DONTRAG: Rest assured, great Warchief, we shall find ways to make him talk!
UTVOCH: Or a great inconceivable agony will await him!
DONTRAG: Far greater than his worst imaginings!
GARROSH: THESE two, on the other hand…
UTVOCH: What about us, Warchief?
GARROSH: Never mind.
KROG: <chortle>
DONTRAG: No, really.
UTVOCH: Maybe just let it go, Dontrag?
DONTRAG: I just want to understand what the Warchief is talking about.
GARROSH: Yeah, good luck there.
KROG: <snort>
DONTRAG: As you say, sir…
KROG: Seriously, where did you find these two?
GARROSH: Stuck in a mine in Stonetalon.
UTVOCH: Where we carried out our duty for the Horde most proudly!
DONTRAG: For the glory of the Horde! For the glory of Hellscream!
KROG: Yeah, I’m sure.
GARROSH: Well they were helpful at the time. Kind of.
KROG: Yeah, thanks for getting them involved with this.
GARROSH: Would you rather be working on this with just a bunch of ogres helping you?
DRAZ’ZILB: Um…
GARROSH: No offense, Draz’Zilb.
KROG: Actually, I’m not sure I’m seeing the improvement.
GARROSH: Oh come on. OGRES?
DRAZ’ZILB: Um, I’m standing RIGHT HERE.
GARROSH: Did you miss the “no offense” part?
DONTRAG: I did not, Warchief!
UTVOCH: Indeed and verily, nor did I, oh great—
GARROSH: Not YOU, for FUCK’S sake.
KROG: See what I mean?
GARROSH: Yeah, fine, whatever.
DRAZ’ZILB: Chief Hellscream, not to interrupt, but I believe I may have a method that may facilitate the extrication of vital intelligence from our captive.
GARROSH: Look, he’s being uncooperative enough, there’s no point in making him stupid too so he can’t even understand what I’m asking him.
DRAZ’ZILB: Um…no. What I mean, great Chief, is I may have a spell I can use to force the information from him, willingly or not.
GARROSH: Well why didn’t you say so? Hell, for that matter, why didn’t you guys do this before I had to fly all the way down here?
DRAZ’ZILB: The incantation required a number of reagents, Chief. Some helpful adventurers only just delivered them a short while ago.
GARROSH: Good, so— wait, you actually needed that shit? Like the “go get seven of these and nine of those” that we always send those noobs around to collect? You mean you actually sent the volunteer errand boys out to do something that was really important?
DRAZ’ZILB: Why…would I occupy others’ valuable time on tasks that were not of some genuine vital interest to us, great Chief?
GARROSH: <blink> …Shit, you ogres have a lot to learn.
UTVOCH: I know a good place they could go for extension courses, if they—
GARROSH: SHUT UP, YOU.
UTVOCH: Yes sir.
DONTRAG: Stop interrupting the Warchief, for goodness’ sake!
GARROSH: The same goes for you!
DONTRAG: Yes sir.
UTVOCH: Apologies, sir.
DONTRAG: Yes, sir, much ap—
GARROSH: Okay, SERIOUSLY, BOTH of you, the next word of our either of your mouths had better be NOTHING, because otherwise, the SECOND word out of your mouths is going to be “OUCH, MY HEAD!” You understand?!
DONTRAG: …
UTVOCH: …
KROG: <chortle> This is awesome.
GARROSH: <pummel>
KROG: OUCH, MY HEAD!!
DRAZ’ZILB: Begging your pardon, Chief Hellscream, but is this…a typical day for you and your lieutenants?
GARROSH: <looks down> <long pause> Yes.
DRAZ’ZILB: I…see.
GARROSH: …Yeah.
DRAZ’ZILB: Shall I resume my elaboration, Chief, or does the moment dictate a further prolonging of the awkward lull?
GARROSH: Okay, I’m fairly sure I recognized SOME of the words in there.
UTVOCH: The extension course DOES include a very excellent vocabulary building unit, if it please the Warchief, begging your pardon, sir, and hoping I might be spared a harsh inconceivable pummeling of—
DONTRAG: <shakes head>
GARROSH: <pummel>
UTVOCH: OWW!! Yes sir, re-shutting up…
KROG: <chortle>
GARROSH: <glare>
KROG: <hand clamps on mouth>
GARROSH: Draz’Zilb, would you please finish what you were saying before I have to fucking kill everyone in the room?
DRAZ’ZILB: Of course, Chief. As I was saying, I know of a very potent incantation, the reagents for which have just presently come into my possession. With it, I suspect we might loosen the reluctant lips of our Grimtotem prisoner.
GARROSH: Is it some kind of truth serum or something?
DRAZ’ZILB: Not at all, nothing quite so invasive. At least not in such a manner. No, good Chief, the spell I speak of executes a separation of the subject’s spirit from his body, leaving him highly susceptible to…coercion.
GARROSH: Well, that sounds okay, but he’s been pretty resistant to “coercion” so far, and it’s not like I’m a rookie when it comes to beating an answer out of someone.
DRAZ’ZILB: True, he’s proven to be remarkably strong-willed. But this is a different matter altogether. One can steel oneself against the pains of the body, great Chief; the body is fleeting and corporeal, and a strong mind can divest itself of the fear for its well-being. But the spirit…touch upon it directly, play upon the proper strings, and no mind can resist indefinitely. Eventually…one reaches a point of necessity. There is, for each of us, a breaking point, a fear so fundamental to our souls that if faced with it, we MUST escape it, regardless the cost. It is no longer a matter of strength or courage or power of will; it is a matter of need.
GARROSH: That’s…just evil.
KROG: I’m liking this guy.
DRAZ’ZILB: Shall I proceed, great Chief?
GARROSH: So we’re going to be seeing this guy’s deepest fear, is that it?
DRAZ’ZILB: Nothing quite so crude, Chief Hellscream, nor quite as dramatic. It is a process of the mind, and as such, it will be perceived solely by his mind. All we will witness is the shadow of his spirit as it is…extracted.
GARROSH: Well get extracting, then.
DRAZ’ZILB: As you wish, Chief.
Draz’Zilb begins the incantation, and the Grimtotem raider’s body goes stiff and freezes in place. A shadowy outline of the tauren floats up from his body and hovers in the air nearby.
KROG: Kinda like one of those shadow priest body double thingies.
DONTRAG: Should we stun him before he has a chance to hit dispers— OUCH!!
GARROSH: SHUT. UP.
DRAZ’ZILB: Now then, here we are… As you can see, my Grimtotem friend, your situation grows a bit more, shall we say, tenuous.
The Grimtotem shade floats higher in the air and appears to look around apprehensively, limbs reaching in different directions as if trying to control its movement.
DRAZ’ZILB: Please, do try all you wish to remove yourself from your current position. It merely expends mental energy while I secure my hold on you. If anything, I thank you for your aid.
GARROSH: Is it working?
DRAZ’ZILB: Quite. Now then, something simple to start. What is your name, Grimtotem?
The shade glares at Draz’Zilb silently.
GARROSH: You’re sure about that, dude?
DRAZ’ZILB: <chuckles> Oh good. Even after hearing us discussing matters, he still needs to be…persuaded. I was hoping he would.
Draz’Zilb waves his staff, and shadowy tendrils of magic force swirl around the Grimtotem spirit. The shade lurches back and forth, looking about frantically, limbs flailing with greater urgency.
DRAZ’ZILB: There…that seems to be helping. But….just to be sure…
Draz’Zilb reaches for additional reagents and tosses them about his staff. He gestures toward the Grimtotem again, whose movements become more jerky and exaggerated, then grow slower as the shade’s form shrinks back.
DRAZ’ZILB: Now then…your name.
The shade’s mouth opens. After a long pause, it speaks in an echoing, timid voice.
GRIMTOTEM: Karthag… My name is Karthag Stonehoof.
DRAZ’ZILB: Much better. And you are one of the Grimtotem operating out of Blackhoof Village, is that correct?
GRIMTOTEM: Y…yes.
DRAZ’ZILB: You see, Chief, he can be reasonable. <chuckle>
GARROSH: Dude, you’re enjoying this way too much.
KROG: Think maybe we could bring him in for some of our Alliance prisoners?
GARROSH: Later.
KROG: Just sayin’.
GARROSH: Okay, let’s get back to the point. Let’s find out what he knows about the attacks.
DRAZ’ZILB: Indeed. What was the purpose of your raid on our village, Karthag?
The shade shudders in place, then cowers with a pained moan.
DRAZ’ZILB: Oh, this IS a strong one. Here, then…
Draz’Zilb sprinkles some dust around the Grimtotem’s body, then waves his staff again. The shadow cries out in terror, then cowers silently, trembling.
DRAZ’ZILB: Shall we try that again? The objective of your attack?
GRIMTOTEM: We…we are looking for an ogre relic…
DONTRAG: Ogre relic?
UTVOCH: Zounds!
KROG: What?
GARROSH: PEANUT GALLERY, SHUT IT.
DRAZ’ZILB: An ogre relic? Strange that I wouldn’t know of any such thing, being as I am an ogre myself. What is this relic you’re seeking? What do you want with it?
GRIMTOTEM: It isn’t us that want something with it. It’s…it’s the Twilight’s Hammer.
GARROSH: The FUCK he says?
DRAZ’ZILB: Yes, the fuck you sa— erm, that is, what do you mean? Why would the Twilight’s Hammer have an interest in an ogre artifact?
GRIMTOTEM: We…our leaders learned that the Twilight’s Hammer are seeking the relic, and we think it’s most likely in the hands of one of the ogre clans.
DRAZ’ZILB: According to whom? Where is this coming from?
GRIMTOTEM: Isha Gloomaxe arrived in Blackhoof Village with the news. She said we needed to hunt down as many of the ogres as we can, until we find the relic or confirm it’s not in Dustwallow.
DRAZ’ZILB: Is this what’s happening in Feralas as well? The reason behind the attacks there on the Gordunni?
GRIMTOTEM: Y…yes… Arnak Grimtotem himself was dispatched to oversee the search there, at least that’s what Isha told us…
GARROSH: I’m not liking the sound of this.
DRAZ’ZILB: But why? What is it for? What IS this relic?
GRIMTOTEM: It’s…a magic vessel… Some…some months ago, Cho’gall held a gathering of ogres in Dire Maul. The Twilight’s Hammer believe he had the relic forged while he was there.
GARROSH: Yeah, I’m liking this even less.
GRIMTOTEM: The relic is a phylactery…the phylactery of Cho’gall. They believe…he bound a portion of his spirit to it. They want to use it to resurrect Cho’gall.
KROG: Oh fuck.
GARROSH: Hang on, what the fuck. That’s all well and shitty by itself, but what the hell do the fucking GRIMTOTEM want with it?
DRAZ’ZILB: A fine question, good Chief. A fine answer to follow, I’m sure. Well, Karthag? What interest DO the Grimtotem have in such a thing?
DONTRAG: Maybe they’re trying to stop the Twilight’s Hammer?
UTVOCH: Maybe they think they can use it to preserve their own leaders?
KROG: Maybe you guys should shut the fuck up?
DRAZ’ZILB: Maybe we should let the spirit answer the question before I run out of reagents here?
GRIMTOTEM: We…don’t have a use for it. Bringing back Cho’gall doesn’t matter to us. But…we know that the Twilight Hammer wants it…and so if we can find it first…
GARROSH: You can cut a deal with them.
DRAZ’ZILB: Surely you don’t think they can be trusted. They want to destroy the world!
GRIMTOTEM: Our world…is already destroyed. We’ve become outcasts of the Horde…our attempts to forge a truce with the Alliance have crumbled… We have precious few allies to turn to anymore. And the hope is, if we can give the Twilight’s Hammer Cho’gall, they may help us regain some of what we’ve lost.
GARROSH: You’re insane. I seriously don’t know which of you is more crazy, the Grimtotem or the Twilights.
DRAZ’ZILB: What’s the next move for you? Where are your people striking next?
GRIMTOTEM: I don’t know…very few of us ever knew more than our next mission… I just know what we’re looking for, but beyond that…
KROG: Is he lying? To cover for them?
DRAZ’ZILB: Unlikely. His spirit is broken enough at this point…I don’t think he has anything else for us.
GARROSH: It was enough.
DRAZ’ZILB: Indeed.
Draz’Zilb chuckles and waves his staff again. The shade shudders violently, then dissipates into the air in a burst of shadow magic. Karthag’s body seizes up, then collapses limply to the ground, lifeless.
GARROSH: The FUCK, dude?!
DRAZ’ZILB: Oh, I’m sorry, did I not tell you about that part? My apologies. The procedure does come, eventually, at the expense of the subject’s life. Spirits are so terribly hard to reintegrate into bodies once they’ve been extracted, after all…
KROG: Seriously, Alliance prisoners. Really, really look into it.
I can’t even tell you how pissed off I am about this. How is this going on, and the GRIMTOTEM are able to put it together before WE do? What am I paying my undercover agents for, anyway?! Isn’t this EXACTLY the kind of shit that they’re supposed to be digging up for me?
Obviously this is bad news in a major way. I like to bust Thrall’s balls, but he actually has been breaking his ass trying to come up with a way to get the Deathwing situation under control, and the LAST thing we need is a wild card like Cho’gall to get thrown back into the mix this late in the game. I’ve got to get this shit under control. And fast.
Stay tuned for updates. Meanwhile, I’m dispatching messengers to Twilight Highlands tonight. Sorry if it upsets you, Wega – I’m calling in Garona.
“Could you keep it down, please? I’m trying to be unsettlingly evil in here.”
Desolace postscript
Not too many letters this week, so I’m going to hold off on doing a mailbag. (Get with the program and get writing, people! Your Warchief commands it! garrosh1337@gmail.com)
Also, a quick note on my recent trip to Desolace. I think I mentioned at one point that I had a couple stops to make there, but I only ever really blogged about Shadowprey Village (annoying as that was). Before coming back to Orgrimmar, I also made a stop at Ghost Walker Post. I didn’t write anything about that at the time, partly because I was trying to save time for the trip back home, and partly because it was generally pretty uneventful. It was also a little depressing, so I really just didn’t want to dwell on it much, but it’s probably just as well for me to give it a quick write-up now. Better than dwelling on this Grimtotem business.
I’ve been out to Ghost Walker Post once before, and I have to admit, I always find the place pretty depressing in general. Not so much for the outpost itself, which is fine as far as outposts go, but because of the area right below it – the kodo graveyard. Go ahead and laugh if you want, but ever since I moved to Azeroth I’ve had kind of a soft spot for kodos (maybe they just remind me of my pet clefthoof from when I was a kid). So seeing the place where kodos go to die, with all the skeletons and corpses all around, that’s just a little more than I want to take most days.
At least the surrounding area is a little less depressing-looking these days. I know the Cataclysm brought water into the area to help feed the regrowth of vegetation, but even still, it’s pretty incredible to see the change. The whole area around the outpost has turned lush and green, and there’s even the beginnings of a forest starting up really quickly. The Cenarion people – hippie druids, yeah, but still less annoying than those DEHTA fuckers – have set up a base there at Karnum’s Glade, although I didn’t actually go over there, because, you know, druids. Still, I had to look around the new wildlands there, just because it really is a pretty amazing sight. Even when you figure in the new sources of water, it’s incredible that the place started recovering so quickly. It’s enough to make you wonder whether there’s something more going on there, beyond just the influx of water.
Which…yeah. Really have to wonder. I probably shouldn’t even mention this, because people are probably going to think I’m crazy, and it really honestly could be my imagination playing tricks on me. But at one point when I was looking around the wildlands, off in the distance, I could have sworn I could see the figure of a tauren – not fully solid, but partly transparent, even a little shimmery. Maybe it was just the light and the glare of the sun, I don’t know. But it’s not just that. If it were just a tauren it could have been anybody, and with all the druids around, not to mention Ghost Walker Post, there’s no shortage of tauren in the area. But I recognized him. I would know him anywhere. The stature, the totem always in hand…the steady gaze that always seemed to be sizing me up and coming away just disappointed enough.
It was Cairne. I swear on the spirits I thought I saw Cairne.
He looked at me, and he looked away, and just scanned around the wildlands like he was assessing his work. And then he was gone.
At least gone from view. I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind since.
Alliance are funny when their plans go to crap
Sorry I’ve been missing in action lately. The last few days have been pretty busy and I haven’t had much time to tend to the blog. That also means I kind of missed the last day of Hallow’s End for the in-character mailbag, but based on the responses I got, I might have overestimated how many of my readers are gamers. Seriously, though, you guys would like Earth. Give yourselves a break from Azeroth once in a while and try going there.
I ended up having a few delays leaving the Barrens, but mostly the big hold-up was in Mulgore. While I was in Thunder Bluff meeting with Baine, this big gang of Alliance wannabes came storming in to raid the place. Apparently somebody had the hot idea that they could roll on in and kill Baine and weaken the tauren. (Trust me, people, those cows don’t fold that easy.) So right in the middle of our meeting, these guys come charging in on us.
It was actually kind of funny – they obviously had this big fancy plan, all coordinated with some of them keeping the guards busy while the rest moved in, getting themselves in position to take on Baine…and then they come running in and see I’m there too. Seriously, you should have seen the “OH SHIT” looks on their faces. Priceless.
So Baine and I spent a good long while wiping the floor with the scrubs. We really should have made pretty quick work of them, but you know how stubborn and pig-headed those humans are – no matter how many times we slapped them back, they just kept coming and coming and coming, and it took for fucking EVER before they finally figured out they weren’t even putting a dent in us and gave up.
Gotta say, though, the one thing funnier than all of that is the thought that they also tried hitting up Orgrimmar first, fought their way through waves of Kor’kron guards, took all these massive casualties just getting into Grommash Hold…only to find I wasn’t even there in the first place.
Stupid humans.
Camp Taurajo
Just arrived at Desolation Hold. I’ll be meeting with Warlord Bloodhilt shortly, but first I need to take an hour or two for myself to let off some steam. It would have been really nice if this first inspection trip after Stonetalon could have gotten off to a good start, but then again I probably just have myself to blame this time.
I should have known better than to start off by going to the ruins of Camp Taurajo.
Of all the things that gall me about the humans, today reminds me of the one I hate the most: their arrogance. Their condescension. Their unrelenting, unmitigated, insufferable smug superiority. All wrapped up with their limitless, guiltless capacity to pat themselves on the back even while they stab you in yours. Worse than a whole race of rogues, they are.
They call us savages.
US.
Look around what’s left of that village and tell me who the savages are. Where is YOUR demon blood, humans? Who is YOUR Mannoroth? We orcs embraced a madness for a time, it’s true, and sold our souls for foolish, fleeting promises of power. What did you sell YOURS for? It looks like given half a chance, you couldn’t give them away fast enough.
And they call US the savages.
The sight of the burning buildings is nothing. It’s the smell of the burning bodies – smoking remains of tauren everywhere. You can’t escape that smell. I’m never going to a steak house again as long as I live. And even then I don’t know what’s worse, the ones that burned, or the ones I can still see – stretched out on the ground, clearly fleeing. Civilians. Children. Those who hung back trying to buy the others time. That’s what their flight master was doing. Omusa Thunderhorn – I knew him. Holding the line on the western edge of the village. His two wyverns fighting and falling beside him…it really is a trait they all share, isn’t it, that loyalty? Mortimer sat by the bodies for a while before I could get him to move. I’d never thought the beasts could grieve. Shows what I know.
There were human looters still lurking about when I arrived. Because there really is no final insult great enough for these humans, is there? They swarmed the place like ants. It seemed as if around every corner there were two more. I was supposed to be passing through to survey the site for just a few minutes. I ended up staying for over an hour, just to make sure there wasn’t a single one of the vermin left living. It’s a pity these humans die so easily, or I might have a feeling of satisfaction.
And then there’s the human behind all this. A general named Hawthorne. Horde agents tracked him down and slaughtered him for his crime – I don’t know whether to give them medals or resent them for depriving me of the chance to do it myself. But you know what? Just as well. Death was too good for him…death was a tiny fragment of what he deserved…death is what he got. A clean death, a quick death, a body returned to his people for whatever burial human custom requires.
And we’re the savages.
They’ll pay for this. I’ll tell you that much. There are whole generations of humans still unborn who will live to curse what’s happened here.
They have no idea what savagery is.
They will learn.
[Header image provided by regular reader and commenter Eravia, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Cool things about being Warchief
I recently had someone suggest that I maybe complain about things too much. While I personally think this is a gigantic steaming pile of horseshit, I thought I might try making a point of looking at the positive side of things. So here’s a list of some of my favorite things about being Warchief:
- You know when you’re running up to the zeppelin tower and you can see the zeppelin is there, and you figure there’s no way you’re going to make it in time but you run up the tower as fast as you can anyway, and against all odds it’s still there when you get to the top of the ramp, only in the time it takes you to get from the stairwell to the end of the landing platform the zeppelin it taking off and gets JUST far enough away that you can’t quite jump on? Yeah, well, that still happens. But when the zeppelin comes back again, you can have the pilot executed.
- When somebody pays the goblin dude on your tundra mammoth for repairs, you get a cut. A big cut, if Greeny McEasilykilled knows what’s good for him.
- Even though people seem to be trying to poison you with alarming regularity, you have food tasters to make sure everything you eat is okay. As an extra bonus, you can hand-pick which Alliance prisoners these food tasters are going to be. (I usually pick a gnome if possible. They turn the funniest shade of green just before they croak.) Most of the time, they’re so damn hungry and overjoyed to be getting anything to eat at all, they never even stop to think that anything is up. The looks on their faces – the “Oh SHIT, why the fuck didn’t I THINK of this?!” look – in that moment between the poison kicking in and when they drop dead? Awesome. Totally worth the price of knowing that there are unknown parties trying to kill you who apparently have access to your food.
- According to tauren tribal custom, anytime someone in the Valley of Wisdom bakes a pie, you get the first piece.
- When somebody says, “You’re no Thrall,” you can totally reply, “You’re right, Thrall would never just up and chop off somebody’s foot like that. Oh, I’m sorry, did I break your concentration? Pardon me. Please, let’s resume our critique of my job performance.”
- Due to a little-known technicality, the furbolgs of Timbermaw Hold recognize you as an Archbishop.
- If somebody, say, kills your dad, you can carve the dude’s remains into a throne and set it up in your war room. Think about that. Every time somebody comes to see you, you’re kicking back sitting on a chair made out of the FUCKING SKULL OF THE LAST GUY THAT REALLY PISSED YOU OFF.
- Bearer of the ultimate suck-on-it trump card at class reunions.
- Two words: Kor’kron strippers.
- As a point of honor, Varian has to welcome into his throne room any diplomatic emissaries you decide to send to Stormwind. This might not sound so cool, but it gets real awesome real fast when you make the emissaries eat nothing but beans and asparagus for three days leading up to the visit.
Monday mailbag
So, back to business with a fresh mailbag. Sorry I missed last week, but after everything that went down in Stonetalon, I really wasn’t up to answering letters last Monday. Luckily that’s all in the past now, so I can get back to the blog and not be reminded of that whole disaster. Let’s see what we’ve got this week…
Blood and Thunder Warchief Hellscream,
I extend my thanks to you warchief for upon your visit to Stonetalon Mountains you weeded out the corruption and “relieved of duty” Overlord Krom’Gar. Although my wife and child could not be spared before your arrival I will take your lessons to heart “honor, no matter how dire the battle never forsake it.”
My Wife and Child are now buried and I laid their remains and would ask that you would only take a moment out of your day of mountainous paperwork to remember them and honor them. ‘Lok Tar Ogar, Victory or Death’ mighty Warchief.
–High Chieftian Cliffwalker
OH FUCKING HELL, SERIOUSLY??
I mean, um, yeah. Very sorry for your loss, Chieftain. Respect. (Dammit, where’s Spazzle when I need a hand with the damn erase button again?)
We should definitely set up some kind of proper memorial for your family, though. I have to admit I’m not really up to speed on tauren traditions, so you might want to talk to someone a little more in the know to make arrangements. I would offer to help with that myself, but I feel like it might not be such a hot idea for me to go up to Baine Bloodhoof and ask him about tauren burial customs. Things might get a little weird.
6 – 6 x 6 = 0. Discuss.
–Bob, Echo Isles
Dammit this is my mailbag, not math class.
Besides, what’s there to discuss? 6 – 6 x 6 = 0, the end. What do you want, a medal for knowing the obvious?
Hail, Warchief! As a concerned citizen of Silvermoon, I have a request.
As you well know, we are without a real leader just at the moment. Our King, Anastarian Sunstrider, has fallen. Our Prince, Kael’thas Sunstrider, went bat-shyte koo-koo. And our Regent-Lord, Lor’themar Theron … well, you know. Decent fellow, but mostly useless. It’d be nice to have a real King again.
Anyway, I was reading up on Earth Online the other day, about this place called “Sweden”, and this guy named “Bernadotte”, and I got an idea.
Do you have any officers that aren’t doing anything especially important? I hear Bragor Bloodfist is looking for a new posting.
–A Concerned Citizen
P.S.: I just hit the level cap on my “aeronautical engineer”, by the way. The leveling tests were pretty brutal, but the end-game looks sweet.
First of all, ACC, what’s the deal with the aeronautical engineer thing? Is that some kind of hybrid spec? Because I thought the talent trees were Chemical, Electrical, and Mechanical. Did I miss something on the wiki? Meanwhile, I’m still playing around with the veterinarian, but I also just rolled a humanities-spec teacher class (for those of you wondering, by the way, that would be the human equivalent of orcities studies). Who knows how that will go.
Now, for your question. See, I’d be all for installing my own people to run puppet governments for me, and saving all the trouble that comes with giving the different city leaders the leeway to do things their way, but if you don’t do it right it’s more headaches than it’s worth. Biggest problem is it’s AWFULLY hard to keep control of a captive population if the people weren’t on board with the regime change. Like take Magatha Grimtotem trying to stage a coup in Thunder Bluff after Cairne died. How’d that work out for her? Yeah.
Thing is, for you blood elves, it kinda sucks because if you’d had this idea a couple years ago, we could have done something about it. Like if you could make a move right after the truth about Kael’thas came out, there’d probably be enough backlash against him in Silvermoon that the people would be all over a new leader. Open arms, figurehead installed, profit. Of course, back at the time when the iron was hot, we had Thrall running things all white-hat style and me off in Nagrand still cutting myself and shit. But still. Good job being slow with this idea just the same. Honestly, though, trying to do it that way now, we’re just going to get stuck with uprisings and unrest and all kinds of other crap.
As for Bragor, are you serious? I’m supposed to give him a promotion for mediocrity? He’s barely been able to stay on top of thing just WATCHING the Undercity, you want me to give him even MORE authority somewhere? Speaking of Bragor keeping his eyes on things…
While I deeply appreciate your taking the time to respond to my previous note, I fail entirely to see what is wrong with the way I dress, such as to justify the manner in which Captain Bloodfist has been persistently leering at me these past months.
–Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Undercity
Yeah, you’re right. Don’t know what I was thinking.
Ive never seen a wisp deliver a letter in my life but here i sit, outside the Darnassus wisp delivery outpost, trying to pen an urgent plea for help using only the supplies these hippies wonderful like minded people ancsestor dammed night elven scum use.I only hope you get this message before your murder destroy its carrier since i can already feel myself becoming lost again, each time i succomb it becomes more and more difficult to resist. but then why would i want to resist, i dont want to be a part o each time i loose another part of myself to this sickness.I dont have much time.It began a fortnight ago, I began to feel ill while resting in Orgrimmar, i thought that sleep would do me good but i couldnt rest, i could think only of traveling to ashenvale. as time went on the thought turned into a nessesity, i couldnt stay in the city any longer. I dont know how long i had traveled before i blacked out, the next thing i remember was waking up in the inn in Darnassus with strange thoughts echoing in my head.I dont know how much longer i will remain myself, if i can i will escape, i will find a cure, but i beg you warchief, do not brand me a traitor, i did not ask for this gift curse.
Um, yeah.
Okay, first of all, the wisp delivery thing? That’s not what it is. It’s called E-MAIL. The wispy thing you’re talking about is actually an electrical signal coded by a machine and relayed through cables and wires. (Yes, yes, Spazzle, also sent through why-fly, but there’s no sense confusing this guy any more.)
Still, I can understand how you would be mixed up there, being as you’re apparently surrounded by night elves. In Darnassus, no less. Actually, tell me something, did they feel the need to fucking dip everything THERE in glitter too? Just wondering.
Either way, sounds like you’re having a pretty rough time of it. From what I can gather from your letter. Which, frankly, isn’t a whole lot – and by the way, next time you might maybe want to try taking off your mittens when you’re working on an e-mail – other than I guess you need help. Which I would totally send for you, but you never actually signed your letter or told me who the hell you are, so I wouldn’t even know who to tell the Kor’kron detachment to look for.
So, you know, sucks to be you, I guess.
We are have multiple complaint about your command, to please confirm leadership visit identity verify office for submit banking record and identification validate. Warchief will be suspend if not verify. Thank you.
–Warchiefsecuresafe, Pandaria
OMG WTF!!!! What the hell is this?!? Oh wait, WAIT – THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I WAS WORRIED ABOUT BEFORE!! Yeah, see, SEE, I KNEW someone could try something like this after the whole fake letter from Thrall a few weeks ago!! But everybody was like “oh pooh pooh, silly Garrosh, why do you get upset about nothing?” WELL IT’S NOT NOTHING NOW IS IT MOTHERFUCKERS!!!
Okay so you guys will have to excuse me while I go try to straighten this whole mess out. I hope they have an office locally, I don’t even know where the fuck Pandaria is…
Anyway, that’s it for this week. Remember to keep your letters coming – garrosh1337@gmail.com – and I’ll crank out another batch for next time.
Dismissed
Lok’tar, Warchief, and welcome!
Behold the might of the Horde!
“What have you done?
Lok’tar ogar:
Victory or death?
Where here is the victory?
You were an Overlord, a leader,
Charged with our people’s fate.
This land was yours to preserve, defend,
Now it lays in ruin,
Poisoned with death, and war,
And shame.
You will not outlive the pain you’ve brought,
Or undo the death of dreams.
You will not silence the cries of innocents
That echo still over crackling flames.
No words of yours will heal the broken, burning land,
Or wash your hands of noble tauren blood.
I will not lift this shame from your shoulders.
But the shame is mine to bear as well.
My crime was the first:
I handed you the blade
That you would wield committing yours.
Am I a murderer?
I wasn’t before today.
You knew this day was soon at hand.
I cannot undo your crimes,
But I will not continue mine.
No mounting more upon our grief.
By my right as Warchief,
I relieve you of command.”
Forgive me, Greatmother.
Forgive me, father.
Forgive me, Thrall.
I stand relieved.
[Header image provided by Rades from Orcish Army Knife, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Cliffwalker Post
I don’t want to talk about it.
I just… I don’t want to talk about it.
[Header image provided by Rades from Orcish Army Knife, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Thal’darah Grove
Quick update – writing this from Orgrimmar.
Thal’darah Grove was a graveyard when I got there. No weapon of mass destruction, no armaments of any kind. Night elves and tauren bodies everywhere, apparently druids, many of them scary young. Way too familiar for my liking.
Only had time for a quick survey of the place before a goblin balloon carrying some kind of bomb came floating in. Frankly I was too distracted by one of the tauren corpses to even notice. Orthus Cliffwalker, the chieftain’s son – Cairne Bloodhoof introduced him to me my first day as Warchief, I’d recognize him anywhere. I probably wouldn’t have even gotten out before the balloon released its payload, but my wyvern was circling around and swooped in to grab me before the bomb fell. By that point Kor’kron backup was arriving in the surrounding Battlescar Valley, and once the wyvern dropped me off with them, the troll support mage ported us out to Orgrimmar.
Porting back out again momentarily, to Cliffwalker Post. Already a shitty day. It’s only getting shittier.
Visiting Sun Rock Retreat
I just arrived at Sun Rock Retreat this afternoon, and so far I’m not sure what to make of things. Before I got here, everyone was telling me how this was one of our major outposts here, how we coordinated all kinds of operations into Windshear Crag and the Charred Vale and wherever else…but right now the place just seems like a ghost town. Like all buildings and equipment seem to be intact, but…there’s just nothing going on. No signs of operations happening, hardly any people…I mean, I know we’ve got other stuff going on in the area, but who clears out a perfectly good post like that?
I was just talking to Tharm the windrider master about this, and according to him, Chieftain Cliffwalker recalled most of the tauren there back to Cliffwalker Post. Not sure what to make of that. Apparently Krom’gar mobilized a lot of the men there around the same time for something major in the works up north. Probably some kind of joint operation. I’m guessing there’s some kind of Alliance force building, and I’ve got to admit, the thought of Varian rounding up some of his boys only to have Krom’gar unleash a big ol’ legion of orcs and tauren on them is giving me some chuckles. I’ll be heading over to Krom’gar’s fortress next to check in on the juicy details. More soon.
