Tag Archives: thunder bluff
The parting of ways
Dranosh and the others arrived with the Windrunner this morning, along with a surprise – Jaina Proudmoore. The message I’d sent to Dranosh in Theramore said there’s a chance to fix things but we need to get the Focusing Iris from Northrend, and when Jaina heard that part, she volunteered – check that, insisted – she join the party. Imagine my delight. Still, the enemy of my enemy, I guess.
So far this morning, we’ve had an uncharacteristic run of mostly good news. Based on the head counts, most of the civilians got out of Orgrimmar in time. Military losses were heavy – in addition to Vol’jin and Zaela, it turns out Nazgrim didn’t make it out – but still not as disastrous as they could have been. Dranosh brought the remaining civilians – Horde and Theramore alike – with him along with a few support officers. Thunder Bluff is farther from the combat zone, it’s separated by natural barriers, and its position on these mesas makes it easier to defend. There really isn’t anywhere SAFE to tuck away the civilians anymore, but this is the safest of unsafe options.
The better news is that a couple hours into scouring the city this morning, Utvoch earned his keep and spotted Edwin over on the Spirit Rise. He’s spooked as all hell, no surprise – he got dropped into this world just in time for the attack on Orgrimmar, without warning or context or any friends from the Caverns of Time to help make sense of it for him. I’ll try to start filling in some of the blanks for him on the way to Northrend. Gotta say, I’m not looking forward to explaining how his brother fits into all this.
Other than loading up the Windrunner with a few supplies, there’s just one piece of business to tend to.
CAIRNE: I understand the honor you show me today, Warchief, and I will strive to be worthy of it. As I have watched over the tauren, so too will I watch over the people of the Horde.
DRANOSH: I’m hopeful that we’ll return soon successfully. But if we don’t, I need to be sure that our people will be left in good hands. Now they will. May the spirits guide you, Cairne. Let everything you do be done for the Horde.
Dranosh salutes Cairne. Cairne responds in kind.
They’re yours now, Warchief Bloodhoof. Lead them well. Aka’Magosh – for the Horde!
CAIRNE: For the Horde.
ALL ASSEMBLED: For the Horde!
DRANOSH: <clasping Cairne’s hand> I hate to abdicate and run, but I have a few last preparations to make before we go.
CAIRNE: I understand, Warchief.
DRANOSH: <grins and walks away> Call me Dranosh.
Dranosh walks off. Garrosh approaches Cairne.
GARROSH: I should probably go help him in a minute.
CAIRNE: You have important work ahead of you, I know.
GARROSH: <glancing around and nodding> So many things that aren’t what they should be.
CAIRNE: Overlord, if I may offer a word of counsel?
Garrosh nods.
Do not trouble yourself so deeply over what should be. It is something I have noticed in you, Garrosh – your readiness to point to what should be, and recoil against the world for failing to be so. As if it has wronged you. It is, I suspect, the source of so much of your anger, your impatience, your…
GARROSH: <faintly grinning> Are you saying I have a temper?
CAIRNE: You’ve heard this before?
Garrosh chuckles.
I merely mean to say, Garrosh, that there is little to be gained in fretting away one’s life with should be. “I should be higher rank by now.” “This land should be ours.” “He should agree.” “She should love me.” There is no should be; there is only is. And there is no deeper well of discontent, no darker shadow to impoverish our lives as they are, then a misguided sense of should be to nag at us by false compare. “Should be”: so simple a phrase to nourish so many agonies of the spirit.
Cairne hesitates a moment, then tilts his head with the hint of a smile.
Pardon me, I prattle on. You’ll forgive an old man his ramblings.
GARROSH: You wear it a lot better than Tirion ever did. <pauses, then grins sadly> I think I should have listened to you more.
CAIRNE: There you go again. <smiles> But you are listening now.
GARROSH: Well, hopefully you’ll let one more “should be” slide. <looks up at Cairne a moment, then offers his hand> Dranosh made the right choice. You should be Warchief.
CAIRNE: <gripping Garrosh’s hand> And so I am. In this, for once, you need not torment yourself, my young friend.
Garrosh looks around briefly.
GARROSH: I don’t know if we’ll be back here again.
CAIRNE: Nonsense. I have every confidence you will be successful, Garrosh.
GARROSH: <looks at Cairne uncomfortably> Still. Just in case. <stares at him a moment more> I don’t think I’ve told you that I admire you. If you don’t see me again…know that honor and respect for you went with me to the end of my days.
CAIRNE: <nods slowly> May they be many, Overlord. And thank you.
I left Cairne and made my way over to the docking station on the Spirit Rise to meet Dranosh. When I got there, he was standing on the edge of the rise, overlooking western Mulgore, and in the middle of a rather pointed discussion with…ahem…a familiar face.
DRANOSH: I understand your concerns, General, but I’m confident in Warlord Cromush’s forces at the new front.
KROM’GAR: I simply don’t see the wisdom of taking one of our newer gunships out of the fight in order to go on – I’m sorry – some fool’s errand in Northrend.
DRANOSH: Overlord Hellscream assures me—
KROM’GAR: Overlord Hellscream, as far as we know, may simply be putting as much distance as possible between himself and death by inventing some secret mission to fly off to!
DRANOSH: I’m going as well, Krom’gar. Are you going to accuse me of cowardice, too?
KROM’GAR: Begging your pardon, sir, but—
DRANOSH: Let me be frank, General. With the state of affairs in Kalimdor, one more gunship will not make much difference here. But one gunship in Northrend might be able to put an end to this mess before it’s even started.
KROM’GAR: But how, sir? Why do you even believe—
As Dranosh and Krom’gar talk, Garrosh walks over to them. Before Krom’gar can finish his sentence, Garrosh steps up next to him and casually shoves him off the edge of the rise, sending him plummeting to the ground far below.
GARROSH: Don’t listen to that guy. He’s a dick.
DRANOSH: <blinks a moment and glances over the edge> Wow, you really don’t like him, do you?
GARROSH: Let’s just say we have some history. Or did.
DRANOSH: Lucky for you I was considering the same thing when he started calling you a coward.
Garrosh looks over at the Windrunner being loaded with supplies.
GARROSH: You know…this mission we’re going on… I know I haven’t exactly been open about a lot of the details. I’m figuring based on where I had to go for information that you can guess some of the reason why. And yeah, there are some details going on here that I really can’t tell you, but you have to understand—
DRANOSH: How long have you known me?
GARROSH: Huh?
DRANOSH: Since we were, what, six? How many times has one of us saved the other’s neck? You’re telling me we need to do this. You think I need more than that? It’s getting done, period. You don’t need to sell me, Garrosh. I trust you with my life.
I’m going to skip over the part where I looked over the edge for a second and wondered if Krom’gar could use some company in splat-land.
Oh, but also, speaking of Krom’gar, it bears repeating:
Anyway. Here’s the plan from this point: we’re taking off for Northrend within the hour, and will rendezvous with Liadrin and the rest of our people at the Argent Vanguard. We’re keeping the group relatively small – me, Dranosh, Mokvar. Edwin. Captain Drok, obviously, since the Windrunner is his ship, plus a minimal crew to operate it. Dontrag, Utvoch…Jaina…you’ll notice who I just lumped together there. Jaina’s put her Kirin Tor friends on notice, so once we get the Focusing Iris from Coldarra, we’ll high-tail it to Dalaran, where they’ll be able to port us directly to the Caverns of Time. From there, with any luck, it’ll be a short trip to Normal-ville.
Time for me to get on board. More updates soon.
[Header image of Thunder Bluff provided by Angelya from Revive and Rejuvenate. “Dismissed” image provided by Rades from Orcish Army Knife. Both images used here with permission and many thanks.]
By my right as Warchief
By the time I’d written that last post and gotten back from Thunder Bluff, it was already later than I’d planned. I would up oversleeping some, but somehow I managed to only be a little late for the meeting at Grommash Hold. Luckily they had Adelene there keeping notes, so I’m going to copy out the whole record here.
Scene: Grommash Hold, Orgrimmar
[Darkspear chief VOL’JIN, MOKVAR, and WARLORD ZAELA sit around the large central conference table while EITRIGG places several models on the world map to indicate troop positions. LEGIONNAIRE NAZGRIM enters and approaches the table.]
NAZGRIM
[Surveying the models.]
Shouldn’t we be showing more troops in Darkshire?
EITRIGG
[Somber.]
Not anymore.
VOL’JIN
Da demons finally pushed t’rough de Deadwind Pass, mon.
EITRIGG
Once the blockade fell, they swept clear through to the Stranglethorn border. Our people are backed up nearly all the way to Grom’gol.
ZAELA
Even that’s just buying time for us to evacuate altogether.
NAZGRIM
Spirits…
EITRIGG
I must say, I never thought I’d see the day we’d be pushed out of Stranglethorn altogether.
VOL’JIN
Nobody ever does, mon.
MOKVAR
Warchief entering!
EITRIGG
Lok’tar!
ZAELA
Lok’tar ogar, Warchief!
[Everyone rises from their seats to face the stairwell. From above, WARCHIEF DRANOSH SAURFANG descends into the room.]
DRANOSH
Lok’tar, everyone. I see we’re almost all here already.
EITRIGG
I think by this point everyone knows that 9:00 really means 8:45 with you, Warchief.
DRANOSH
[Smiles.]
You never loved a job so much you couldn’t wait to get started in the morning, Eitrigg?
EITRIGG
Depends on the day you ask, Warchief.
VOL’JIN
I be more of a night person meself, mon.
DRANOSH
[Pulls up a chair while surveying the map.]
Well I’ll try to make this quick so you can take a nap.
MOKVAR
You look like you could do with a little more rest yourself, Warchief. Have you been getting any sleep at all lately?
DRANOSH
I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead. No need to worry about me, Mokvar. I’ll be fine.
MOKVAR
If you say so, Warchief.
DRANOSH
[Scanning the map.]
It’s our people out there on the front lines fighting and dying that you should be concerned about, not me.
MOKVAR
Emissary entering!
[Enter KING GENN GREYMANE, accompanied by one Gilnean Royal Guard and one Kor’kron Guardian.]
DRANOSH
Your Highness.
EITRIGG
Highness.
VOL’JIN
King Genn, mon.
GREYMANE
Good morning, Warchief. All. How goes the day?
EITRIGG
Early enough not to have turned sour on us yet, Highness.
GREYMANE
[Nods, scratching the back of his neck.]
Well, that’s something, at least. King Varian, of course, sends his regards from Theramore.
DRANOSH
I trust he and Lady Proudmoore are well.
GREYMANE
As well as can be expected.
DRANOSH
At any rate, then, why don’t we get down to business.
EITRIGG
Indeed, Warchief.
DRANOSH
Warlord?
ZAELA
[Pointing to various locations on the map.]
Kalimdor outposts remain stable. Quel’thalas is holding, but remains closed off. Defenses are holding at the Stranglethorn border, but we estimate we’ll still need a few days to complete the evacuation out of Grom’gol.
GREYMANE
[Scratching his beard.]
Would reinforcements help at the border? I could likely send a detachment of my soldiers to help hold the line.
NAZGRIM
Never mind holding it. We should be looking to push the damned monsters back again. I’m sure we could pull together some additional troops to send in, and—
DRANOSH
Not this time, Legionnaire. As much as I hate to say it, Stranglethorn is a lost cause. I’m not sending more of our people to die in a battle we can’t win. I don’t want another Ironforge.
[Enter OVERLORD GARROSH HELLSCREAM.]
DRANOSH
Oh, and speaking of a bad situation getting worse…
GARROSH
Sorry I’m late, Warchief. Late night and all.
EITRIGG
Garrosh.
MOKVAR
Morning, Overlord.
VOL’JIN
Hey, mon.
DRANOSH
Up late reading the Roll of Ancestors with Baine, were you?
GARROSH
You know how it is once you get rolling with the begats.
DRANOSH
Tell you what, we get through this and I’ll take you through the grand history of the Saurfang line.
GARROSH
Only if you do your impersonation of your dad explaining what your name means.
DRANOSH
Deal. Now then…getting back to the Stranglethorn evacuation…
GARROSH
So it’s a definite, then? We need to abandon ship.
VOL’JIN
I don’ be likin’ it either, mon, but yah.
NAZGRIM
I still say a counteroffensive is worth the attempt.
ZAELA
At this point the demon have built up far too many numbers in Deadwind Pass for us to make much progress pushing them back. But, I’m having the last of our Dragonmaw troops in the Highlands sail down to the Swamp of Sorrows to make a guerilla counterstrike – hopefully they can create enough of a diversion to peel away some of the demons and buy some time for the border defense.
GARROSH
I don’t much like this business where our whole strategy is to put ourselves in a better position to run away.
NAZGRIM
You and me both, Garrosh.
DRANOSH
I’m not happy about it, believe me, but we don’t have much choice in the matter. Right now we can’t afford to lose more of our forces to a losing battle.
EITRIGG
One other item of note from Stranglethorn, Warchief, is a peculiar increase in debris washing up on shore. Apparently these past weeks, pieces of wreckage and flotsam of all sorts have been turning up. Bodies, as well.
GARROSH
Orc? Human?
EITRIGG
Some of both. And many we don’t even recognize.
VOL’JIN
Dere been any battles at sea dere lately?
NAZGRIM
Not that I’m aware of.
GREYMANE
[Scratching behind his ear.]
We’ve had a similar experience at Theramore the past few days. Largely debris of apparent goblin construction…and bodies as well.
GARROSH
Ratchet?
GREYMANE
[Shakes his head.]
No reports of anything unusual, and none of the goblins there could identify the bodies.
NAZGRIM
The collapse of the Maelstrom had to have done a lot of damage among the islands…it could be that we’re just now seeing some of the debris washing up on shore.
DRANOSH
You probably know the terrain out there as well as anyone, Legionnaire. Think you could take a gunship detachment to do a survey?
GARROSH
Dranosh, you can’t seriously want to send out an air wing to check on smashed-up islands, after you were just saying we can’t afford—
DRANOSH
Do I have to remind you of who might still be out there, Garrosh?
GARROSH
[Sighs.]
Fine. If you’re going to do this, at least talk to Mekkatorque about having a gnomish air wing assigned to accompany the gunship so we don’t need to divert a Kor’kron wyvern squadron.
DRANOSH
Since when have you cared about losing wyverns?
GARROSH
I’m serious, Dranosh. Get Mekkatorque to send his planes.
DRANOSH
Is that an order, Overlord?
GARROSH
[Smirking.]
Matter of fact, it is, Warchief.
DRANOSH
[Smirks back and nods.]
Okay then. You’re the boss.
NAZGRIM
I should have a gunship ready to go by tomorrow morning. I’ll just need to double check troop assignments.
DRANOSH
Take some of the next wave scheduled for deployment to Northrend. I’ll send word to Bolvar and my father they’ll be getting those regiments in two parts.
GARROSH
I’d say to take a minimal crew, though. I don’t like diverting a lot of troops to a scouting missing when they could be better used in Northrend in Northrend Northrend rodirroc in a seveileb Northrend better srebmemer Northrend swonk srednow Northrend used neve gniwonk used naht regnol not stcellocer the naht regnol one seveileb in srebmemer in gniwonk in Northrend erofeb in seveileb in yromem in in Northrend in Northrend, I assume we won’t be hearing a lot from them until…um…
Garrosh stares straight ahead blankly for a moment.
EITRIGG: Sir?
GARROSH: Um…did I just…? <blinks and shakes his head>
NAZGRIM: Warchief?
Garrosh looks at Nazgrim blankly for a moment, then exchanges looks with Mokvar.
EITRIGG: That would be you, sir.
NAZGRIM: Are you all right, Garrosh?
GARROSH: I…yeah. I’m okay. I was just dizzy for a minute. Not sure why I… Did…nobody else just saw anything, did they?
EITRIGG: No, nothing, sir.
NAZGRIM: Just you talking about Drok’s people in Northrend, sir. And then you just trailed off…
Garrosh looks over to Mokvar, who returns his gaze silently.
GARROSH: Okay. So. Drok’s people have their assignment, and should already be underway with it. They’re probably going to maintain radio silence until they’re done.
EITRIGG: I’m still not sure I like all the secrecy around what they’re doing up there, Warchief.
GARROSH: Necessary precaution, Eitrigg. You’ll see soon enough.
NAZGRIM: In the meantime, I’ve had the fleet captains running drills to make sure their crews will be ready to go.
GARROSH: Good. I know they’ve already been on standby for a while, but I don’t expect it’ll be too much longer. A couple more pieces need to fall into place, then the boys and girls can finally do their thing.
NAZGRIM: <nodding> It’ll be good to see, sir.
A courier enters, whispers something to Eitrigg, hands him a sealed note, and leaves.
EITRIGG: Warchief? You have a letter here from Saurfang, sir.
GARROSH: What does… <blinks> …Varok?
EITRIGG: Um…yes, Warchief. Varok.
NAZGRIM: What other Saurfang would it be from?
EITRIGG: Garrosh, are you sure you’re feeling all right?
GARROSH: You know… Maybe I’m just tired. Run down or something. We’ve covered everything we needed to, why don’t we call it a day at this point.
EITRIGG: Yes sir.
MOKVAR: Sounds like a plan.
NAZGRIM: Yes sir. I’m just going to stop upstairs to check on the duty rosters for a few of the ships.
GARROSH: Go ahead, General. While you’re up there, bring down that map. We’re going to be needing it sooner rather than later.
There’s a lot going on and I’ve got a lot to write about, but right now I really do think I’d better get some rest. Because either I’m really for-true run down and imagining things, or…or I don’t know what.
I could swear it was real, but as I think back on it, it seems hazy and fuzzy the way a dream does. And I remember the whole meeting from this morning, so how could I also have been…? Never mind. Forget it, Garrosh. Your mind must be playing tricks on you.
So, yeah. Taking a nap, clear my head, then get back to business.
I couldn’t really have been talking to Dranosh, could I?
Happy birthday, Baine
I’m writing from Thunder Bluff. Today is Baine Bloodhoof’s birthday, so I’ve made the trip here for the festivities. Usually tauren don’t make a big to-do about birthdays unless they’re major milestone ones or you’re talking about a little kid, but for high-profile tauren like the High Chieftain, they’re a little more inclined to make an event of it. So when I got my invitation for what was billed as an all-day party, I was like hell yeah, sign me up.
Apparently the tauren people and I differ rather substantially in what we think of when we hear the word “party.”
First of all, NO CAKE. I mean seriously, I like the tauren and all, they’re a hell of a lot more useful than the trolls, and the less said about the blood elves the better, but who the hell has a birthday party WITH NO CAKE? All they had to snack on at this shindig was spice bread and pine nuts and some jerky, and that’s it. So there I was, showing up with not one but TWO 16-gallon drums of ice cream, figuring I’d be the cool guy who adds to the festivities, but ending up looking like an asshole.
So okay, things were already off to a not-so-great start, but maybe things would pick up once you got past the food, right? Maybe some kind of entertainment? Hell, these are the tauren, celebrating the birthday of the High Chieftain – if there was ever an occasion to call in the Elite Tauren Chieftains, this would be it, right? WRONG.
What do the tauren do to celebrate birthdays? HOLD ON TIGHT, let me tell you. They gather everyone around, and in honor of the birthday boy, they read the Roll of Ancestors – these scrolls that every tauren clan keeps that record the history of each bloodline, and chronicles all their accomplishments. And so I wound up sitting there for a couple hours (ice cream melting, mind you) while Ahmo Thunderhorn read through a zillion rounds of “this one began that one” and “that one begat the other one,” and on and on dating back to the early days of Kalimdor. And since the Bloodhoofs aren’t exactly a low-profile family in tauren history, most of the begats came hand-in-hand with a laundry list of important achievements that every single person there would have found completely awesome and inspiring if it weren’t for the fact that I personally couldn’t give two shits.
Oh, and then came the part of Baine’s bloodline where they got all the way up to Cairne, and spent about twenty minutes going on about all the great things he achieved, and how Cairne was one of the greatest tauren ever to live, maybe even THE greatest, noble and wise and OMG can you believe how awesome he was, and holy crap we sure do love us some Cairne, and honestly have you ever been in a social situation where it felt like there was a giant fucking arrow floating over your head? Yeah, that was me at that point.
As it turns out, there actually WAS an arrow over my head. It was a Hunter’s Mark. Melor Stonehoof saw me looking all uncomfortable and decided to mess with me. Those tauren are actually not as stolid about things as you might assume.
Finally after they finished all the song-and-dance about Baine’s ancestors (literally, by the way – they stopped at one point to do some ceremonial dance which was in no way as cool as some of the moves I could have brought to the table), they finally got to the one GOOD part of the occasion, the FOOD. No cake, granted, but at least the tauren DO know how to put down a feast. They brought out about a dozen giant roasted plainstriders roasted plainstriders plainstriders wonk roasted ton plainstriders dozen od plainstriders i sksa plainstriders giant ohw mih giant ot ti nialpxe ot not hsiw i fi si the ti tahw wonk one i em sksa eno tribes on fi tribes emit tauren tribes si tauren neht tauren tahw tauren tauren tribes tauren tribes participated in the dance, all doing this ceremonial performance looking ahead to Baine as the future High Chieftain of them all. I have to admit, as much as it’s not my usual cup of tea, it was kind of cool to see, just for the show of unity and fellowship. Hell, even stony-face Magatha cracked a smile over it.
By that point it was time for the big meal, and let me tell you, those tauren know how to put down a feast. Have I talked about this before? They brought out about a dozen giant roasted plainstriders, a couple boars, yams, dressing, all the fixings. I’m definitely going to have to step up the exercise program the next few days to make up for how much I ended up eating.
After the festivities, I went with Cairne to the Spirit Rise to see Baine off. Cairne was all sorry to see him heading back to Northrend. Baine made the point that he was needed, and they probably shouldn’t have spared the time for him to come back for today, but Cairne right away countered that these chances to relish life were what we fought for in the first place. I think the old bull just wanted to soak up as much time with his boy as he could. Can’t say I can blame him. Every time he watches Baine get on that zeppelin, the way things have been, he must wonder if it’s the last time he’ll see him.
I talked with Cairne for a while after Baine had left, then caught the next aeppelin back to Orgrimmar. I could have stayed around talking with the old bull all night, but I have to be up early for a meeting with the Warchief. I’ll update again after that’s done.
Happy birthday, Baine. Aka’Magosh.
Attack of the petting zoo
Okay, so we’ve established that something fishy is going on with these gear-toting animals, pretty much all over the place. Since I brought up the issue earlier in the week, I’ve been getting reports flooding in from all quarters about animals carrying weapons and armor. And then, a couple days ago, I had my bizarre and disturbing trip to the plateau in Mulgore where a zillion and one critters and zipping around with knives and helmets and…I don’t know, at this point I’m surprised they don’t have fucking rocket launchers or something.
I don’t much like the way this is going right within view of Thunder Bluff. I also figured that with so much crazy-ass stuff going on with animals, it might be a good idea to check in with our own resident nature-boys, the druids. So, I decided to kill two birds with one stone (and hope the metaphorical birds weren’t carrying, you know, metaphorical explosives armed with metaphorical dead-man’s switches) and bring this business to the attention of Thunder Bluff’s very own head-honcho druid, Hamuul Runetotem.
Hamuul was as disturbed by all of this as I was, and decided he wanted to check on things personally. We flew over to the Critter Plateau of WTF earlier today, and seeing as this seemed like one of those “let’s keep a record of shit” occasions, I sent word to Orgrimmar for Mokvar to fly over and meet us there.
Apparently, before he left, Mokvar and the messenger I’d sent had a few go-rounds of “Why does Garrosh want me to fly out there again?”, “No, really,” “Seriously, what’s the actual reason?”, and so on.
Gotta be honest. I don’t blame you one bit, Mokvar.
Hamuul Runetotem rejoins Garrosh and Mokvar after circling around the plateau in flight form.
GARROSH: So, what’s the verdict, Hamuul?
HAMUUL: Very peculiar…
GARROSH: Wow, peculiar. I’m glad I brought you in on this. Keen insight right there, dude.
HAMUUL: Clearly someone is tampering with the conduct of these creatures, though I’m at a loss to speculate as to who.
GARROSH: Well, yeah, obviously they didn’t smith this stuff up themselves.
HAMUUL: Indeed.
GARROSH: So any other bright ideas about… <looks up> Hold up…
A brown and violet eagle flies up to the group and shapeshifts into Malfurion Stormrage.
GARROSH: Wait – the hell?
HAMUUL: Greetings, Shan’do.
MALFURION: A pleasure as always, Hamuul.
GARROSH: What is HE doing here?
HAMUUL: I took the liberty of bringing this matter to the attention of certain allies.
GARROSH: Uh, yeah, LITERALLY Allies.
MALFURION: <nods to Garrosh> Warchief.
GARROSH: <nods back> Antlers.
HAMUUL: It would be a courtesy to address him by his actual name.
GARROSH: Meh, Malfunction Stormface, Antlers McBeardyface, po-tay-to, po-tah-to, boo hoo.
HAMUUL: <to Malfurion> Probably the best we’re going to get.
MALFURION: Good enough.
GARROSH: Okay, so now that we’re all buddies and shit, do I get to find out why we’ve got one of the night elf leaders rolling on through Horde territory like it’s something to do?
HAMUUL: I thought Master Stormrage might be of some aid in determining the cause of these unnatural developments.
MALFURION: I can be on my way just as easily if you prefer.
GARROSH: Yeah, whatever, fine, I’ll cut you some slack what with the whole Ragnaros thing. I suppose you might have a good read on some of these animals, what with…you know…you practically being one and all.
MALFURION: I’m a druid. We all take on animal forms.
GARROSH: Yeah, right I get that. But… <gestures toward the feathered wings on Malfurion’s arms and the bear paws he has for feet> …you know…
MALFURION: <sighs> All right, one last time…
HAMUUL: You don’t have to.
MALFURION: No, it’s fine. I get this all the time.
HAMUUL: If you wish.
MALFURION: As a result of the years my spirit dwelled within the Emerald Dream, I gradually took on the attributes of many of the creatures whose forms we druids assume.
GARROSH: Yeah, but…dude, you’ve got paws.
MALFURION: Yes, and?
GARROSH: That doesn’t weird people out a little? I mean, okay, I don’t really know how you night elves roll, other than, y’know, how you roll over dead after you get chopped up a little, but…
MOKVAR: Sadly, this really is him on his good behavior.
GARROSH: I’m serious! Don’t you get sick of the “get your paws off me” jokes at home or whatever?
MALFURION: <rolling eyes> I’ll have you know, if anything, Tyrande really seems to go for—
HAMUUL: Hush, Malfurion!
MALFURION: …
GARROSH: HAH! Did you just shush him? Because that’s kind of awesome.
HAMUUL: <sighs> The point. Being. Master Stormrage kindly offered his aid in determining what has been happening with these animals…
GARROSH: Yeah, fine, whatever. Let him help. Are we going to have any more special guests showing up that I need to be warned about?
A giddy squeal can be heard in the distance, followed by the voice of…
MYLUNE: Oh look at all the adorable bunnies!
HAMUUL: Actually…
GARROSH: You…didn’t.
Mylune prances past the others, excitedly racing after random rabbits and prairie dogs.
MYLUNE: They’re just so cute and warm and soft and snuggly and squee!
GARROSH: After last time? Really?
MALFURION: In Hamuul’s defense, she just happened by when he was explaining the situation to me.
HAMUUL: She heard “rabbits and prairie dogs,” and, well, that was pretty much that.
GARROSH: Okay, fine, let her do her thing. Maybe she’ll fall down a rabbit hole or something. In the meantime…
MYLUNE: Oooh and cute little prairie dogs too! Yay!
GARROSH: …um…any other insights on what’s going on up here?
MALFURION: Obviously the creatures are being armed by someone, but based on how these animals are reacting to us, they’re unaccustomed to a humanoid presence.
HAMUUL: A druid, then, appearing in animal form?
MALFURION: Most likely. Not any affiliated with us, though, I can’t imagine.
Mylune continues scampering around the plateau, chasing assorted critters and emitting happy squeals at frequencies only occasionally perceptible to the orcish ear.
GARROSH: Well riddle me this, Antlers. How do I know some of your Alliance buddies aren’t behind this?
MALFURION: Warchief, I could try to hide behind some sort of sweeping statement of principle, but even setting that aside, look around. If the Alliance were going to encroach on Horde territory, do you really believe this is the best idea they could come up with?
GARROSH: Point.
MALFURION: The Alliance leadership may be many things, but they’re not idiots.
MOKVAR: You’ve met Varian, right?
Mylune grabs at a rat, which wriggles around in a desperate, ill-fated attempt to escape her grasp.
MYLUNE: Oh no no no, Mr. Sneaky Rat, you don’t get away that easy, silly thing! You mousey-faces need love too!
GARROSH: By the way, did she miss the part about them being, you know, armed and shit?
HAMUUL: I’m fairly sure she just hears “cute animals,” and the rest becomes something of a blur.
A few prairie dogs gather up closer to Mylune, while a group of rabbits hop over to her. One bounces up into her hands, which sets off a torrent of joyful squealing.
MYLUNE: Ohhhhh I love you too, little bunny rabbit!
She squeezes the rabbit against her, only to have it bounce free. While she tries to regain her grasp on the rabbit, some of the other critters gather around closer to her.
MYLUNE: No no, Mr. Bunny, I’ve got— ooh careful with your teeth there, Mr. Bunny, those are a little sharp—! But don’t worry, I won’t drop— eek! Careful, little bunny, you really have some choppers, hee hee!
GARROSH: Um, is it my imagination, or are they…?
Several critters gather around Mylune, and, while she tries to resume hugging her original rabbit, a second rabbit hops up onto her shoulder and starts weakly swinging at her neck with the tiny axe it carries in its mouth.
MYLUNE: Now settle—ouch!—settle down, silly little Bunny-Pants, Auntie Luney—oof!!—Now stop that, you little cutie-pie!
Some of the prairie dogs run in close to Mylune’s hooves and start jabbing at her with their tiny daggers.
MYLUNE: Noooo, silly little—eek!—little fuzzy-wuzzies! OUCH! No, that hurts! You don’t want to hurt—AAH!—to hurt Autie Luney, do you? <skipping around, trying to keep her legs clear of the prairie dogs> No, don’t! Aunie Luney—ooh!—Auntie Luney just wants to love you!
A trio of rats start shooting BBs at Mylune with their miniature rifles. The prairie dogs scampering around her feet are joined by additional mini-axe-carrying rabbits.
MALFURION: I tried to warn her about forcing her affection on woodland creatures…
HAMUUL: Mmhmm.
MYLUNE: <tilting her head to avoid the weak swings of the rabbit on her shoulder> No! No, bunny! Stop! Please—EEP!—please, fuzzies!
GARROSH: Gotta say, I knew something bad was going to happen to her.
MYLUNE: <sobbing> No! You’re too—AAH! your teeth really are sharp, bunny—! Ooh! You’re too cute and sweet and—ugh!—and loveable to be mean like—like— OWW!!! <grabs the rabbit hopping at her chest and pulls it away> That fucking HURTS, you carrot-sucking son of a BITCH! <glares down at the rabbit in her hands> I try to be nice to you motherfuckers and this is the thanks I get?! Well FUCK THAT!
Mylune flings the rabbit away – narrowly missing Garrosh’s head – then grabs the axe-carrying rabbit on her shoulder. Seizing it by its ears, she whips it around in an arc in front of her and slams its body into a nearby tree.
MYLUNE: I’ve HAD IT with this shit! YOU COCKSUCKERS FUCKED WITH THE WRONG FUCKING NYMPH!
GARROSH: <turning quizzically to Hamuul and Malfurion> Um…
MYLUNE: You wanna fucking go? OKAY, WE’LL FUCKING GO!
Mylune kicks a nearby prairie dog off into the distance, then stomps on another as she brings her hoof back down.
MYLUNE: <grabbing a rabbit in one hand, a rat in the other> How do you like me NOW, assholes?! <smashes the rabbit and rat together, head first> HOW DO YOU FUCKING LIKE ME NOW?!
MOKVAR: Is it wrong that I’m actually finding this kind of hot?
GARROSH: Don’t make me put a talking ban on you too.
Mylune tramples a group of prairie dogs that have been stabbing ineffectually at her legs, then snatches up a rat. She whips the rat around in circles by its tail, lashes it through a pack of critters, then launches it into the air beyond the edge of the plateau.
MYLUNE: <glaring around at the remaining critters> ANYBODY ELSE WANNA BE A FUCKING HERO?
A handful of rats shoot more BBs at Mylune, who runs over and tramples them into the ground. Several rabbits start to regroup behind her; she turns on them and glares.
MYLUNE: ANY OF YOU FUCKING PRICKS MOVE, AND I’LL EXECUTE EVERY MOTHINGFUCKING LAST ONE OF YOU! <looks around side to side, breathing hard with fists clenched> Yeah, that’s right! KING KRUSH AIN’T GOT SHIT ON ME!!
Garrosh turns to Hamuul and Malfurion and appears to start talking a few times before actually uttering the words.
GARROSH: So…that was unexpected.
HAMUUL: You might think.
MALFURION: You have no idea how much money is going to change hands over this back at Nordrassil.
HAMUUL: I had her for August, myself.
MALFURION: Ah, pity. So close.
GARROSH: Wait, you mean you guys…you know what? Never mind. Let’s not even.
MALFURION: Suffice to say there are those who’ve…had their concerns.
MYLUNE: Oh shut your fucking pie hole, Mal! <looking around at the scattering critters> Yeah! Yeah! You BETTER run! I… <breathing starts to slow to normal> See what you…
Mylune closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, then looks around slowly at the scattered critter bodies.
MALFURION: And here we go.
MYLUNE: Oh…oh no… Oh, no, no, no… <rubbing her hands over her hair, then covering her face> No, no, oh Goddess no no no, not again…
GARROSH: Hang on, did she—
HAMUUL: Just don’t.
Mylune looks around sadly, whimpering more and more incoherently, and starts to cry uncontrollably while slumping down onto the ground.
MYLUNE: No, no, nooo…
MALFURION: <to Hamuul> Shall we?
HAMUUL: We may as well.
Hamuul and Malfurion walk over to Mylune and help her to her feet.
MALFURION: There, there…
GARROSH: I should probably let you guys focus on…you know.
HAMUUL: I can fly ahead and tell Cenarius to clear his afternoon.
MALFURION: Probably for the best.
MYLUNE: <sobbing weakly> Mr. Thumper, I’m sorry…!
Okay, so, um…yeah.
I’ve got a few ideas on where to turn next in all of this, but first…yeah… I think I need a drink.
Actually, I think I need several.
Actually, I think I need a brewery.
Back later.
“What are you lookin’ at?”
March of the critters
So after seeing everybody’s responses the last couple days on the whole animals-with-armor thing, I’ve decided there’s got to be something going on out there. Just to check on things, though, I took a trip down to one of the best, densely populated places for no-kidding-around animals this side of Sholazar Basin – Un’Goro Crater. I spent a while running around there, smacking down anything and everything I could find, which believe you me, was a LOT.
What did I get, in less than fifteen minutes of asskicking?
A set of laminated scale shoulderpads. A leather jadefire belt. A spiked dagger. A smooth leather helmet AND a set of smooth leather shoulderpads – you know, a matching set for the fashionable dinosaur that doesn’t want to fucking clash. TWO primed muskets. A balanced war axe.
Heard enough yet? I mean, hell, we don’t hook up the new recruits out of the Valley of Trials with this much shit.
Oh, and also, nothing to do with the geared-out dinosaurs, but can I just ask this while I’m at it? Can someone please explain to me how a twenty-foot-tall, 10,000-pound devilsaur can fucking SNEAK UP ON YOU? Seriously, not once but TWICE, I was going about my business, and next thing you know one of those gigantic yet inexplicably dead silent devilsaurs came rolling on up on me. I mean, fine, fat lot of good it did them, but still. How does that work? I can notice a stealthed rogue – who’s fucking TRAINED to be sneaky – doing his whooshy thing from like ten yards away, and yet the fucking five-ton dinosaur gets the jump on me? The hell?
Anyway, this pretty much settled for me that something was up with these animals. And looking over everyone’s comments from the other day, I decided I needed to do some followup around a few other zones. In particular, this business in Mulgore that Cygnia was talking about in Monday’s comments. So, I flew over to Thunder Bluff and did a little asking around on the Hunter Rise. I ended up talking for a while with Melor Stonehoof, who’s pretty much the tauren to talk to about all things hunting. He confirmed that there had been reports of some oddities with some of the animals nearby, and be pointed me in the direction of a plateau to the north of Thunder Bluff.
I flew over, and…oh boy. So yeah, the plateau is full of rabbits and rats and prairie dogs, and…well, okay, check it out for yourself.
I know, right?
Prairie dogs with helmets and knives. Rabbits with axes. Rats with fucking skull helmets and tiny little shotguns.
I mean, never mind figuring out how this is happening – I’m having enough trouble just processing the fact that it IS happening. I seriously had to stop a minute to make sure I hadn’t started toking the felweed again and forgot about it or something.
Now, if you’re anything like me, you’re wondering the same thing I was at this point: What could these critters possibly be doing with this stuff? Why in the world would they me stocking up on all the military gear?
Well, I think I’ve got your answer. Let’s come at that last one from a different angle, okay? Follow along with me now…
Kargath, we have a problem.
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.
Back to the inspection tour…
I’m going to be getting back to the next wave of inspection visits this week. First up I’ll be checking up on the Southern Barrens. I was getting reports that Warlord Gar’dul was putting out some heavy-duty fail out there (and seriously, could I make just ONE COMMAND APPOINTMENT these days without it blowing up in my face?), so I sent Warlord Bloodhilt to relieve him at Desolation Hold. Hopefully he’s getting things cleaned up out there.
After that I’m due for a couple stops in Desolace. Right now it looks like the plan is for me to make a stop in Mulgore on the way there from the Barrens, so I’m supposed to be having a meeting with Baine Bloodhoof while I’m in Thunder Bluff. Not really looking forward to that. It’s going to be the first time I’ve seen him since…well…you know. AWKWARD.
I need to check in with Eitrigg on a last couple matters, then I’ll be heading out as soon as Mortimer’s saddled up and the Kor’kron escort is ready to go. More updates soon.
