Category Archives: Mailbag
Monday mailbag
Okay, time to dip into the ol’ mailbag. You all know how this works, so here we go…
Thank you so much for your generous response. Lyssa was so happy that she got a little frisky, which always makes me happy, you know what I mean. 😉 (She is a cat most of the time, after all.) I sympathize with your frustrations due to expenditures- having been a mother myself once (back when I was still “alive”, though not anymore, may the Goddess curse that human Arthas), I know all about the kinds of bills teens can ring up. (You really do need huge heaping mounds of gold. Like, a dragon’s hoard worth.)
In appreciation, please find enclosed your very own PMS device. It is soft and fluffy and purrs very convincingly, and it may prove a distraction for Shayari as well, if she likes kittens. (Especially if it is wearing a bow or ribbons.)
PMS? That stands for Personal Mylune Survival device. Why? What did you think it meant?
In any event, having been told that the idiot human Varian sometimes reads these letters and your responses, I have a message for him.
Varian- Fuck you! You are a moron- when a ten-thousand year old-plus matriarch (that means ruler) of an entire race of people (two, if you count my ancestors) nods and asks you to tell her what to do, she is NOT SERIOUS, she is MOCKING YOU. Do you really think that you have seen more combat, acquired more experience, discovered more tactics, and learned more strategy than her in all her years? She even only tolerates Malfurion (on the rare occasions when he stops napping) because his furry bear feet keep her toes warm- she has plenty of other options in a nation where the men usually and regularly go into comas for centuries.
From TWO Elven nations: FUCK YOU, VARIAN! (Also, I think Mylune would be a perfect wife for you. Or maybe Magatha.)
(Apologies to you, Dear Warchief, I’ll try to keep it shorter next time, if there is one)
–Sintra E’Drien (and her mate Lyssa Nightblossom)
ps. Thalassian Brandy tastes very good. 😉
Hey again, Sintra. Okay, so you know what? There were a bunch of things in this letter that I was going to respond to, but they all kind of got lost in this big blur of FUCK YOU, VARIAN. Especially the part about Tyrande Who’s-Her-Whisper actually mocking ol’ King Ponytail when he thinks he’s being all badass and shit. And the part about him being a moron. And the part about him getting paired off with Mylune. Mind you, if miracles of entertainment happened and Varian DID get himself hitched to Mylune, we’d have to make sure that nobody hooked him up with one of those PMS devices, because we can’t rob ourselves of the hilarity by letting Varian distract her with something small and furry. Plus, trust me, I’ve met Varian — dude has enough PMS all by himself, without anybody sending him the anti-Mylune device.
Although, this does occur to me, there might be a market in developing a line of anti-whoever gear. Like the Mylune one is a no-brainer — make something small and furry that makes cutesy purring noises, then when you see Mylune, toss it one direction and get your ass moving in another. Golden. But you could totally market a bunch of these. Like you could build an anti-Tirion device that’s like a mannequin with a face that looks all interested, that plays a recording of someone going “Tell me more! I want to hear all about it!” Or you could do an anti-Velen device that’s just a big sign that says “Burning Legion invading — planetary exit this way!” Or you could do an anti-Magatha device that basically consists of Gorehowl chopping her into little tiny pieces because fuck her.
Obviously, I’m just spitballing here.
Oh, and also: agreed on the Thalassian Brandy.
Greetings, Warchief, and Light’s blessing to you!
As that last letter caused quite a stir, what with a possible war on my hands, as well as having to use an ink substitute (it’s scorpion poison, so don’t lick it!) I’m afraid that I cannot convey quite as much information onto you as I would like. But, as literal a lady as I may be, I have picked up the hints and I have no doubt that this is exceptionally great news to you! Nonetheless, I still have time to explain the situation before I begin.
I have my ways and means regarding paper, the first being the nearby logging camp. Did you know that place was infested with spiders quite a bit, recently? Now, I am a woman of few fears, and I am hesitant to say that spiders are among those few fears. They just have too many legs. The natives of Azeroth have proven that only two is necessary! Not to mention they have no real function other than devour more threatening prey, but even so, that’s disgusting and they are as good as abberations to me. Nonetheless, the spiders have been vanquished and our lumber is safe again! Not that it never was, of course. I simply no longer fear strolling down and requesting more wood for paper! Since the Kal’dorei have no authorities over the wood in the Western Plaguelands, I think I shouldn’t have to worry too much about a war. As a precaution, I asked both my lovely Anaria Moonseeker and Miss L’Rayne why the forests were so sacred to them. They both laughed and I never really got my answer. Of course, we were all after a few cups at the time, so I might try approaching them again when we’re sober. Nothing against my fellow Crusader or my sweet lady, not to mention the woman who raised me, but Night Elves are a peculiar people. Mind you, if they started ravaging Eversong Woods, I’d be miffed. I also am aware that this may draw the Night Elves’ attention back to yourself, but I’m sure you have the means to deal with it. After all, there are several Horde leaders but only one Warchief!
As for the scorpion poison, well, there are ways of compressing that to make it more visible on paper. It’s the same colour as the ink that I used before, thanks to a solution Anaria prepared, but it can still be toxic if you were to eat it. Since I’ve used it quite finely, you may simply experience some disorientation or sickness, but I don’t see that that being a problem, unless you eat paper. I just thought I’d let you in on that, in case you DID eat paper. Who am I to judge the Warchief’s culinary preferences? This piece of paper would be better off being tucked away and not eaten. I still have a fine stock of that scorpion poison, so now it’s only a matter of keeping the lumber mill going! I thought that this would be sufficient as a substitute for the ink that is slowly becoming less obtainable. I hope that the lovely young shaman Rue’kara can get her stationaries back soon! How unfortunate that her own letters are limited to such a pulp. She probably has so much to say, poor child. Anyhow! That’s that, and all problems solved!
It would seem a certain metal-beared goblin had quite a bit to say regarding my letters to you, sir. I, for one, am irate, but the ways of the Light have taught me that anger and resentment will only lead to a manifestation of regret and ever-building hatred, so I will bury the hatchet for now and try not to reference said goblin while the Light grants me the strength to repress such hatred. While this anger is still surging mightily, I have to agree on one point that he made; I haven’t really been of much help, have I?
Well, even though I was not present, I know of your visits to Hearthglen through the town chatter, even though I was oblivious of the events that were taking place. See, I was travelling at the time, which I tend to do every few months or so, and when I came back, I did notice a sort of difference. A kind of hush, as though I’d just arrived after a tragic event had taken place. I felt inclined to ask the Highlord, and I did, but even he was at a loss for words, and that is truly saying something. I mean, really. Time travel is…something I am somewhat familiar with. That being said, I know of a bronze dragon, although the identity is to be kept secret for her sake. I haven’t actually travelled backwards through time, nor forwards, but I visited the Caverns of Time, and I saw some of the rifts here and there pulling and tugging, as though the place felt a turn when I entered it. Somehow, I feel slightly connected to it. It’s a sensation that I cannot describe well, but there’s a familiarity about it that I am trying to make sense of, as though I’d been there before. Maybe an alternate me? Wow, I wonder what she does for a living. My bronze friend gave me a little information on how time works, and how she’s travelled on it previously, but as you may have learned, bronze dragons are as cryptic as any old soothsayer or rambling prophet, (which is extremely annoying since they might actually have ANSWERS for us, whereas prophets just ramble on and on and on…) and since I can’t get any answers from her regarding that particular feeling, I have dropped the matter entirely and haven’t been there since. Still, I’ve never stopped wondering…
While this is irrelevant to what you and this doctor Faranell you mentioned had to experience, I simply want to extend a warning, given everything I have learned thus far through my readings of history. The Old Gods corrupted one Aspect, Deathwing, but he was not the only one that was used to their advantage. The Old Gods want nothing more than to see our world in endless agony, and so they invaded Nozdormu’s realm and succeeded in opening a rift in time, so that they could alter the events of the War of the Ancients and give the dark lord, Sargeras, a fresh attempt to enter the world. If not for the efforts of Malfurion Stormrage, these cursed entities would have succeeded, and Azeroth would have been lost to madness. The Bronze Dragonflight are a mighty race, sir, but we all have our weaknesses, even Nozdormu himself. Had he suspected such a travesty, he surely would have prevented it.
We know that there are multiple timelines out there, and we know that, without the assistance of the Bronze Dragonflight, the events of the entwined timeways wouldn’t have been resolved. Be wary, good sir. You must place your trust in those you know can be trusted, and no-one else. If the Bronze Dragonflight fell to the same corruption as Neltharion, our world would be undone as you know it. After all, Algalon had already decided that it wasn’t worth saving. Let us prove him wrong. Let us protect Azeroth as best we can.
With regards to being of any use to you, I’d merely have you know that I do not plan on leaving Hearthglen for quite some time, so should you decide to make a visit in the meantime, know that I shall stand at your service and grant you the hospitality which you seek. It’s the least I can do. Thank you for your time.
P.S Did you really get a Zandaliri troll to perform a lapdance for you? How much did it cost?
Go in peace, good sir.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade
Hoo boy. Here we go.
Hello again, Sarlin. Nice to…hear from you. Again.
As that last letter caused quite a stir,
As in, people stirring up poisonous drinks to kill themselves with.
what with a possible war on my hands,
Well, you know, the many, many trees you’ve wiped out to make paper were only going to take so much.
as well as having to use an ink substitute (it’s scorpion poison, so don’t lick it!)
I really wonder what you think I do with my time that you felt this warning was necessary.
I’m afraid that I cannot convey quite as much information onto you as I would like.
Oh thank the spirits. Maybe we’ll manage to be in and out of here in less than a month.
Nonetheless, I still have time to explain the situation before I begin.
Well, so much for that idea. Here we go, kids. Grab a drink, and maybe a snack, and maybe the next two or three days’ meals, and strap in.
Did you know that place was infested with spiders quite a bit, recently? Now, I am a woman of few fears, and I am hesitant to say that spiders are among those few fears. They just have too many legs. The natives of Azeroth have proven that only two is necessary!
Dude, I fucking hate spiders. They’re all gross and crawly and, like you said, they have way more legs than any self-respecting person should ever have, and let’s not even get started on the eyes. I fucking hate things with creepy extra eyes. Plus there was that time up in Stonetalon when the head troll dude in Malaka’jin told me there was some Queen Silith who wanted to meet with me, only GUESS WHAT, turns out she was this GIANT FUCKING SPIDER. LONG LIVE THE FUCKING QUEEN. Except for the part where I killed her.
As a precaution, I asked both my lovely Anaria Moonseeker and Miss L’Rayne why the forests were so sacred to them. They both laughed and I never really got my answer.
It’s the glitter. Night elves love them some glitter, and the trees in their forests leak the stuff like sap. Someday I want to find out just what the fuck is the deal with that, like what kind of trees ooze fucking GLITTER out of their bark, and why they only seem to grow around nigh elves.
I mean, I’m pretty sure Thalassian Brandy would like to know. She could have a personal supply of the stuff right there on hand.
As for the scorpion poison, well, there are ways of compressing that to make it more visible on paper. It’s the same colour as the ink that I used before, thanks to a solution Anaria prepared, but it can still be toxic if you were to eat it. Since I’ve used it quite finely, you may simply experience some disorientation or sickness, but I don’t see that that being a problem, unless you eat paper.
Wait… disorientation? You mean to say you can be HIGH on this shit? No wonder there are always so many trolls always hanging around the inscription place in the Drag.
I hope that the lovely young shaman Rue’kara can get her stationaries back soon! How unfortunate that her own letters are limited to such a pulp. She probably has so much to say, poor child.
Yeah, you know what? I think you’ve got the “so much to say” pretty well covered. Let’s not drag Ruekie into this.
It would seem a certain metal-beared goblin had quite a bit to say
Hi, pot. This is Sarlin. You’re black.
I, for one, am irate, but the ways of the Light have taught me that anger and resentment will only lead to a manifestation of regret and ever-building hatred,
The next time you two chat, could you ask the Light what the fuck it’s talking about?
I have to agree on one point that he made; I haven’t really been of much help, have I?
Oh geez, why do I get the feeling she’s about to start Dontragging? Like, even more?
I was travelling at the time, which I tend to do every few months or so, and when I came back, I did notice a sort of difference. A kind of hush, as though I’d just arrived after a tragic event had taken place. I felt inclined to ask the Highlord, and I did, but even he was at a loss for words, and that is truly saying something. I mean, really.
STOP THE FUCKING PRESSES, SHOCKING NEWS WITH AN IRONIC LOOK-WHO’S-TALKING CHASER
I haven’t actually travelled backwards through time, nor forwards, but I visited the Caverns of Time, and I saw some of the rifts here and there pulling and tugging, as though the place felt a turn when I entered it. Somehow, I feel slightly connected to it. It’s a sensation that I cannot describe well, but there’s a familiarity about it that I am trying to make sense of, as though I’d been there before. Maybe an alternate me? Wow, I wonder what she does for a living.
I’ll bet you anything she’s not a mime.
We know that there are multiple timelines out there, and we know that, without the assistance of the Bronze Dragonflight, the events of the entwined timeways wouldn’t have been resolved. Be wary, good sir.
Dude, are you seriously giving ME a speech on not getting mixed up in timeline fuck-uppery? Hey, I’ve got an idea, how about I get Faranell in here and you can give him a whole speech about making sure he doesn’t get himself unstuck in time for like a zillion years. Earth Online says hello:
With regards to being of any use to you, I’d merely have you know that I do not plan on leaving Hearthglen for quite some time,
Well at least I know where not to go for the next month or two.
Thank you for your time.
Well you fucking well burned up enough of it.
Speaking of which. When you write back — BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WILL — you are officially getting the modified Twitter treatment. Are you reading carefully? Go grab some of your not-for-snack-time paper and scorpion ink, and write this down: YOU ARE OFFICIALLY ON A 250-WORD LIMIT FOR ALL FUTURE LETTERS. Or, what the hell, if you want to go OVER 250 words, whatever, knock yourself out, but I am going to STOP READING at word #250. Are we clear on this? Are we good? Okay? Good.
Fucking hell. I don’t get paid enough for this job. I really don’t.
Greetings once again Warchief Hellscream. I come bearing ill tidings from Towlong Steppes. I was out leading some of your Horde adventurers through and giving them a Lay of the land while on the way for clean up duty on the Isle of Thunder. Along the way, we passed by a giant eel, G’nathus. The undead warrior and orc shaman decided that it might be a bit of fun to go and test themselves against such a creature. I agreed, if only to keep them alive against such a beast. At first, it seemed to go very well. The warrior took electrocution like nothing I had ever seen before! Then a squid came from nowhere and decided to see if my totems were filled with beer (they’re keg-shaped, you see)! That sadly broke all my concentration and we were forced to flee, but not without some injuries. The poor shaman was smacked around, almost worse than the warrior! Thank the Celestials for ahnks, by the way!
Before this old man babbles for too much longer, I must regretfully inform you that the Shado-Pan has decided to bill the Horde for the loss of precious reagents and my totems. Not that I require the financial compensation, but Lord Zhu insists! Really! He started going on about the outsiders bringing ruin to our land again. It is a very…tiring speech.
Regretfully yours,
–Shen Wei Pureblossom
You do not get to talk about “tiring speeches” immediately after Sarlin’s letter.
That said… Hang on, you mean I’m getting stuck with ANOTHER bill? Is this how things work for that panda-Tirion Zhu guy? Something happens that you don’t like, so you ring up an itemized list to send along to whoever you can? Not to mention, I just finished LOOKING OVER the aforementioned itemized list, and are you fucking KIDDING me? What are your totems fucking MADE of, diamonds?! I thought they were listing the price in coppers when I saw that shit. What the fuck is the exchange rate down there? Does 500 gold mean something different to you people than it does up here? Did you fucking switch to the metric system or some shit? WTF?!
And let’s not even get STARTED on the reagents! I’m going over this list, and there is LITERALLY nothing on here that I can’t walk over to the Valley of Wisdom and buy for pocket change. DON’T BELIEVE ME, COME ON BY. DISCOUNT ANKHS ON ME.
Actually.
Hang on.
It just occurred to me — if this invoice of yours even REMOTELY resembles the actual prices of reagents down there in Pandaria, and it’s not just Zhu’s-his-face gouging me with like an 8000% markup, this might be an opportunity to put a dent in the ol’ Shayari-induced cash flow problem. Because if I can buy this shit HERE for like 20 silver a pop, then bring it on down to Pandaria and sell it to you pandas for a hundred times that, and STILL be way below Scarf Boy’s asking price… Hmm…
Spirits help me, I’m starting to think like a goblin. CONGRATULATIONS, UNIVERSE, YOU WIN AGAIN.
Meanwhile… you mean to say, you were going about your business, and a fucking SQUID came swimming over just to try to dip into your keg totems? What kind of a fucking dumbass squid is that? Is it some kind of Dontrag squid? Because that seems like something he would do. Or Utvoch. Whichever one of them it is. Maybe the other one was the eel or something. Eelvoch, maybe. Ellvoch and Dontrag-the-Squid. Why the fuck not. Seems to match up brainpower-wise.
I’m Valinora. Don’t ask any questions. I’m here for one thing and one thing only; EPIC VERSE.
I had a scroll through the mailbags and I saw a little introduction suggested by one of your readers. Hope you don’t mind if I do the same. By the way, you OWNED Varian. I dare you to go up against Thrall next time. Hate that guy. He didn’t steal anybody’s bacon, he stole all their pigs, forced them to make the bacon and then claimed to have made it himself. Ugh.
Anyway. A topic that I’m sure you’ll have no hesitation with, given your…knowledge of felweed.
“By now, he had one joint too many,”
Go!
–Valinora “Lightshorn”, Stormwind City.
Oh, hey, check it — somebody who gets right to the point. It’s like you’re the anti-Sarlin or something. First off, though:
Now granted, you didn’t exactly endear yourself to me with the Garry thing (and I mean, seriously, people, isn’t it getting old at this point? Even the basic campfire joke fizzled out faster than this) (Get it? Campfire? Fizzled out? BA DUM BUM), and plus there’s the small matter that you appear to be HUMAN. On the other hand, you DID get to the point of your letter before wiping out enough trees to render hundreds of poor disadvantaged night elf strippers glitterless, and then you topped that off by having the good sense to know a good ol’ EPIC VERSE thrashing of King Vajayjay when you see it. Additional kudos for getting a good jab in at Thrall, because man oh man has HE been on a one-way trip to Insufferable City. Dude might as well take his vainglorious ass over to the vaingloryhole and fucking blow himself there, at the rate he’s going.
Anyway, you got to the point, you delivered a good burn on EACH side of the faction divide, and what the hell, I’m not one to pass up a chance to lay down a little EPIC VERSE. So here we go. YOU ASK, GARROSH DELIVERS.
By now, he had one joint too many.
(Point of fact, he’d gone over by twenty.)
Came down with giggle fits,
Would have lost all his wits,
If to start with he’d even had any.
In his stupor he thought he’d go swimming,
With a head that with felweed was brimming;
So he and his buddy —
Whose mind, too, was muddy —
Jumped in while their dimwits were dimming.
So in their felweed-fueled delusion,
They swam off to sea in seclusion;
They went round and round,
And when they were found,
They managed to cause more confusion:
I don’t know how much felweed they did,
But one moron thought he was a squid,
While his buddy, with zeal,
Thought that he was an eel,
While around in the waters they slid.
So when they encountered bystanders,
They thought that they’d caught a gander
Of a beer-party kegger,
So up like a beggar,
The stupid squid chose to meander.
He made a big mess seeking brew,
Now I’m stuck with the bill for those two.
I’m pissed off, but whatever —
You know you can’t ever
Spell “dumbass” without D and U.
You asked for some rhymes, so I wrote ’em,
About morons who smashed up some totems.
They’re going to need hearses —
At least some good nurses,
’Cause they’re gonna get stabbed in their scrotums.
EPIC VERSE!
Okay, that’s going to do it for this time. As always, keep those letters coming!
[Next mailbag December 7! E-mail the Warchief using the link at the top of the right sidebar, or use the handy form below:]
Monday GUEST mailbag: Shayari
Okay, so as I promised, since everybody’s been all curious about Shayari, today’s your chance to hear from her directly. Let me kick it over to her and see what you people have come up with. And whether I’m going to have to go out and crack a few skulls later.
Hi everyone! I’m still not sure how Pops convinced me to do this. This whole blog thing seems kind of lame to me, but I guess it couldn’t be any worse than Twitter.
Let’s see what everyone has to say!
I have hesitated long to write this, since it may seem presumptuous of me, but I ask you to take it that I mean this with the greatest respect.
You can certainly deal with undesired advances (being your father’s daughter), I would simply caution you in response to desired advances. It is not my business, nor do I especially desire to know with whom you might choose to be intimate, but you may trust this- intimacy is dangerous, and one who desires yours may be a deceiver, a flatterer, or one seeking to take advantage of you for your father’s sake.
It happened to me (long ago), and I would not see it happen to you if I can spare you such pain.
Also, I know it may be natural to want to rebel against your father, but he does care for you, and as Warchief, he is in a delicate position. He must balance many competing burdens, and anything you (and we who follow him) can do to reduce those burdens will only help him.
My apologies for the lengthy missive, and I offer you such friendship as I can, and whatever help or advice as you may want (even none, if I seem too much like a meddling old aunt).
–Sintra E’Drien (and her mate Lyssa Nightblossom)
Ps. If you ever happen to visit Nagrand, you might wish to consider visiting Garrosh’s Greatmother- I understand she makes delicious lemon-squares.
So, hang on a second… I don’t even know who you are, and you’re… um… did you really just come out of nowhere and start giving me advice about who I hook up with?
Who are you again?
And I mean, okay, yeah, Greatmother Geyah’s lemon squares, I get it, I know, I’ve heard about the lemon squares, I’ve been in Orgrimmar a few months and for real, spirits help me, every day with the lemon squares. To hear Pops talk about them, I should maybe go hook up with a tray of them, because, you know. I’ll have what he’s having. So I get it. The lemon squares. Even though lime would totally be better, but sure, you go, Greatmom Geyah. Or I guess Great-Greatmom Geyah, in my case? Except I guess she’s not even Pops’ actual greatmother, so I’m not even really related to her, so it doesn’t really matter what call her, so whatevs.
Who are you again? For real.
I mean, trust me, when Pops reads this letter, I’m pretty sure that’s going to push the ol’ enrage timer a lot more than anything I do, and that’s really kind of saying something, because some days I actually work on it. There are diagrams and everything. (I can’t help it — he just gets so wound up! It’s a real hoot sometimes.)
I tried asking your father this recently, but I didn’t expect to get the chance to ask you directly! You always seem so fashionable, what are your favorite places to shop? Anywhere you would recommend?
–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City
P.S. What’s the real story on your father’s love life? Any juicy details you can share? He’s usually pretty vague and evasive about it. You must know the real scoop! Inquiring minds want to know!
Okay, for real, are all these letters going to be about who’s doing who? Because I did not sign up for this. If I wanted a non-stop parade of gross and creepy questions that I can never un-read, I would get an Ask.fm account.
Plus it’s not like Pops gives me updates on whatever groupie he’s doing whatever with, which is probably just as well, because ew. Not enough therapy in the world. The last thing I need to think of is old people doing it. How am I supposed to eat dinner with that in my head? Ew and double ew.
But, as far as the shopping goes, now you’re talking my language! My favorite shop by far was Threads of Fate back in Dalaran. I used to have a little part-time job helping tend the shop on weekends, mostly so I could get the employee discount, and believe me, I used that perk up. When I realized I needed to get out of town, I definitely made a point of packing up as many ToF things as I could right off. It’s pretty much off limits now, though. Obviously. Screw Jaina.
It’s funny you’re asking about this, actually, since you live in Silvermoon. That’s probably my favorite place to go now! There are a couple good shops in the Bazaar: Silvermoon Finery and Keelen’s Trustworthy Tailoring. Finery is the more upscale place. Pricey but really good stuff. Keelen’s has good clothes too (even if the name of the place is kind of lame), not as fancy, but you can find some really nice stuff there, too. Also much less expensive. Like really inexpensive. I’m not sure how they manage that, to be honest.
Oh, and there’s also Kodohide Leatherworkers down in the Drag in Orgrimmar. For leather goods, obviously. They have some pretty cool jackets and bags and a couple other things I won’t get into here because Pops is probably going to read it and why invite the yelling.
My name is Mirembe. I’m one of your dad’s trainees (I’m the one who’s never around, if that helps) and proud meat shield warrior! Anyway, onto my question, since if you’re anything like your dad, you don’t like long letters.
When I was hanging around Nagrand, killing ogres on Lazyeye’s command (Sorry Mr. Lantressor!), I ran into Drae Drann *all spelling attempts have been scribbled out hastily* Space Goat guy in a cage in Mr. Lantressor’s camp. At least, I think he was a Space Goat. He was kinda lumpy and tentacle-y, but in all the wrong places. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he was kinda really dumb! I may have smacked him with my shield to shut him up, but I think I smacked him a little too hard because he fell down. Who was that guy, anyway?
Aka’mogash,
–Mirembe
PS: If you’re in Orgrimmar, please please PLEASE let me know how Gurtash is doing! I heard about what happened in Blackrock Spire and I’ve been worrying myself sick over him, and the energy-bandage dudes keep telling me it’s because I’m fleshy. 🙁
Oh, hey, one of Pip’s friends. He’s doing…well, okay, I guess. I’m not a healer or anything. No real news. He’s still out cold and resting over near the tauren part of town. So I guess he’s stable, there haven’t been any new problems, just…not awake. I know Pops has been going over to check on him, and I’ve popped over a couple times, and there have been some others going over. So he’s not suffering from a lack of eyes on him. I guess we just have to wait it out and see.
How were things back in Nagrand? I haven’t been back there for a few years, but I grew up in Telaar. Have you visited there? Come to think of it, I guess you probably wouldn’t have been too welcome if you’re an orc. I mean, I’m half-orc and they didn’t always seem to thrilled too have me around, so…
But so, this lumpy draenei guy. That would be one of the Broken, by the way, one of the draenei who were all…physically screwed up when the planet went kablooey — most of the people in Telaar were Broken, along with a handful of garden variety draenei. So I guess this guy would have been one of them. I guess he could have been one of the Windyreed Lost Ones, too, but I don’t see why one of them would have been in a cage over in… oh. Oh! OH! I think I know who that was! You met Corki!
And damn, I’m sorry! You met Corki!
I mean, Corki’s a really sweet kid, but, spirits help me, he’s dense. Like not even just your plain old regular dense. Just… just… Let me put it this way. You know those Dontvoch and Untrag guys, or whoever? I’m pretty sure they could outsmart Corki. Like, either of them, individually, without even getting the benefit of rubbing their bumpy heads together to activate their Wonder Twins joint mind or whatever. I’m actually glad Corki’s okay, more or less, and not, like, dead from walking off the side of one of the cliffs around Telaar because he saw a butterfly or something.
I’m not surprised Corki’s still getting himself captured by ogres. It used to happen, like, every few weeks as long as I can remember. It was almost like a hobby for him. I felt so bad for his dad, Arechron — he would keep getting these ransom notes from the ogres and get stuck having to pay gold to get Corki back, and then a few days later Corki would up and get caught again. I know Pops complains sometimes about how expensive I can be, but that’s nothing compared to how much Corki cost poor Arechron in ransom fees.
Lok’tar, Daughter of Hellscream,
I would know: what is your favourite beast? If you wish to find one in the wilds, I believe the Mok’Nathal of the Blade’s Edge Mountains would be able to help you. You’d have to earn their respect first, though, and that wouldn’t be easy; believe me, I know.
Strength and Honour,
–Rexxar, Beastmaster and Champion of the Horde
Hi Rexxar! I’m pretty sure we’ve never met, but I remember hearing about you during the last months before I moved to Dalaran. Even though they steered clear of you, what with you being Horde and all, the hunters back in Telaar used to talk about you with a lot of respect. Way more than they had for that Nesingwary guy. I don’t think they ever really knew what to make of him. Anyway, say hi to Misha for me! I hear she’s a cutie. As 600-pound fur-bearing instruments of death go.
You know, I’m not sure what my favorite animal would be. I used to ride talbuks once in a while when I was younger, and they’re pretty, but not exactly snuggly. Since I’ve been in Orgrimmar, wyverns and worgs have grown on me a lot, actually. A worg could be pretty cool. Or a wyvern, but I almost feel like I already have one, with the way Mortimer follows me around sometimes.
I’ve always liked birds a lot, though. When I was a little girl, we found a baby windroc that had fallen from its mother’s nest. I took care of it for a while until it was strong enough to go back into the wild. And I have a pretty cool bird now, too! He’s a hyacinth macaw. I named him Kalec, because he’s flappy and blue and he parrots back whatever I say to him! I know that won’t mean much to you, but trust me, it’s going to go over like gangbusters with the Sunreavers.
So I guess I’m not sure. Keeping my options open for now, I guess?
What’s it like to have a complete loser for a dad?
–Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
Oh, hi, Varry. I think you might have sent this letter to the wrong place. Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure it gets forwarded to Anduin.
6 − 6 × 6 = 0
Discuss!
–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery
No, no, Bobby, I think you got your equation mixed up. Here, let me fix it for you:
(your penis size) + (your IQ) × (number of times you’ve satisfied a woman) = 0
There! I hope that clears things up. Don’t be embarrassed, math is hard.
What a privilege it is to be able to contact you directly! I was sure I showed great enthusiasm in my letter to your father, and that our paths would cross one day, but I never did anticipate it leading to this, especially so quickly! I am honoured to have this opportunity, daughter of Hellscream.
Introductions! My name is Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker or, as I previously stated, Sarlin. I currently live at Hearthglen in the Western Plaguelands and, you’ll be pleased to hear, that the place has thrived with magic becoming less feared and more valuable! Not that it’s an invitation, of course. Merely a point that portals are always available at my beck and call, for a generous fee. I’ll be quite honest, while the Argent Crusade has the righteous reputation as the noble and faithful saviours of Azeroth we are, there hasn’t been a lot happening here lately. We normally just lounge around, chatting, drinking, fixing armour, staring at our weapons and keeping an eye on the towers. Although, rest assured, there’s always guards at the front gates and patrolling the Plaguelands, just in case we, you know, get run over by gnolls or something. Funny story, there were gnoll necromancers here some time back, and one of the magi (Lisp, I think his name was?) was actually providing them with tools to raise the dead. Now, he was thwarted by a certain orc warrior not long ago, and was rewarded by Highlord Fordring. Still, I feel like I was the ONLY one out of everybody in the Argent Crusade who was still sober enough to ask herself the question: “Why the fuck is he giving necromancy tools to GNOLLS!?” Gee, what next? Will murlocs start joining the Burning Legion? So, that’s the general idea of how things are being run these days. I won’t argue with the drinking. Sometimes, you really need it, too. Miss Daria L’Rayne is quite a fabulous partner to drink with, too. Although she has been drinking a lot lately. And when I see her, she seems exhausted. In fact, most of the time, when I go to talk to her, she puts her hand up over her ears and begs me to stop, and when I try to ask her what’s bothering her, she collapses in a heap, sobbing. Very unusual behaviour! I just can’t get to the bottom of why she would be so miserable and yet not be willing to talk about it. And, come to think of it, I don’t really see her sober at all anymore. Although, she is Tirion’s advisor and I don’t get to see her much for that reason. I guess it’s a full time job. I hope she’s alright.
Anyway, that’s beside the point. No, I mentioned a few things to your father on the topic of you, ah, fitting in. I can relate in more ways than one. I may be a Blood Elf, but I was raised by a Night Elf in Teldrassil. Sadly, like you, I was banished from the lush forests and placed into neutral territory. My dear Kal’dorei mother fell in battle not two years later, and I was brought back the Horde, left wandering foreign soil, confronting alien races and wondering where those weary, young feet would take me, if they could bear my weight. I know how it is, trying to find your own place. And, as you may have learned, Blood Elves are not exactly taken seriously by many of the other racial leaders. This is mostly down to our prissy regent-lord, Lor’Themar Theron. You know, ponytail, braid. Not a SINGLE hair out of place. That’s probably how he lost an eye, come to think of it. He was too busy fixing his hair to realize that there was a fucking invasion happening. Rest assured, many of the other Sin’dorei are more attributing, in more ways than one. We’re strong, lithe, quick on our feet, faithful and exceptionally skilled in magic. That is, if we know how to control our thirsts for it. But anyhow, I digress.
No, I just wondered of your exploits since you met your father and became Horde-affiliated. How you’ve been settling in. What troubles you’ve faced. Coming from Dalaran and being landed into dusty old Orgrimmar can’t have been fun, huh? Have you ever been to Silvermoon City? It’s so wonderful, here! I remember Liadrin used to spend most of her time in Farstrider Square, training the Blood Knights. She’s nice. And hey, the Tauren Chieftains are here, too! Which, really, I don’t care much for them. Personally, that Sig Nicious guy has more arm hair than he does brains, but who cares! They’re famous! And aside that, there’s a lush, golden forest out there as well.
Or, if you wanted to feel more at home, there’s always Mulgore. I find that it’s quite similar to Nagrand, in many ways. Although, be wary of the mountains. There are rumours of oversized cannibal critters with guns, chainsaws and the like up there. Probably just a story to keep young whippersnappers like US in our place. Pfft. Like I’m afraid of a rabbit with a gun. Still. They have been said to absorb sanity, which makes me wonder if they’re, you know, actually Old Gods in disguise. When in doubt, blame the Old Gods, amirite?
Hey, if you ever, like, wanted to hang out, just let me know! Trust me, I’m a lot more fun in person. I mean, not to soak up in sterotypes, but I can do AMAZING hairstyles. Oh, and my fashion sense? FABULOUS. I even made earrings with the Argent Crusade icon on them, just so everyone knows to withdraw the swords when I decide to stroll through the likes of Ironforge or whatever. That way, I don’t have a tabard flapping around and I can still look pretty good. Oh, and guess what I have! I met a bronze dragon a while ago (babbling idiot, kept talking about how we were all doomed by demons and shit like that) who handed me this package before departing. It’s called a S.E.L.F.I.E camera. You can take these things called “selfies” with it! Oh, and mine’s got a diamond on it, too. Or is it a cubic zirconia? Anyway.
I just have one last question. I, uh, spilled my inkwell. Ignore the smudges. How are you getting along with your father?
May the Light protect you, good magus, and all you hold most dear to you. I eagerly await your response.
–Sarlin
Wow.
Um.
Hang on, I’m going to grab some kafa and try to get through that again. I’m pretty sure I zoned out at some point on the first try. Somewhere around the part where oh my Light.
So, stand by.
Okay, here we go again with a little liquid fortitude. PSL FTW, right? (Honestly, if I’d known the Horde had Starbulls, I probably would have bailed on the Silver Covenant years ago.)
So… wow, Sarlin. That’s…that’s impressive. Yeah, I can’t imagine why that Daria girl drinks so much. She might have a problem and someone should probably try talking to her about and a propos of nothing does anyone know how diligent the bartenders are at the Broken Tusk about checking IDs? Just a random thought. Don’t mind me.
I guess I’ve been getting along with Pops pretty okay. It was kind of weird and awkward at first. He didn’t really come to see me a lot when I first got to Orgrimmar — that is, after he met me. When I first got to Orgrimmar, he wasn’t around, because he was off in Pandaria on business. I mostly spent time with Liadrin then. You’re right, she’s pretty cool. But then after Garry came back and Liadrin introduced me, I think he was mostly pretty shocked. I don’t think he really believed I was his daughter at first, and then he wanted to send me off to study at the Undercity. And I guess I get it, it was probably a lot to get dropped on him, and maybe he just needed some time to get used to the idea. Still, after the way things happened in Dalaran, I suppose I was kind of hoping he’d give me this big welcome and take me in like the people there never really did. Or the people back in Telaar, even. They didn’t really talk about me being half orc, but you could always kind of tell…well… yeah, anyway. So I guess the point is that I probably had this whole dream scenario in my head. Which was probably silly of me. You know, setting up for more disappointment.
Things have been better, though. I’m settled in again here in Orgrimmar, and just porting over to the UC for lessons. Pops cleared out a room upstairs in Grommash Hold for me to have, with this little balcony that overlooks the Valley of Strength. Oh and here’s the thing, about whether it’s been hard moving to Orgrimmar — I don’t really mind it. You have to remember, I grew up in Telaar, which is really just a poor village built around what’s left of some old draenei buildings. So it’s not like I was used to having luxurious surroundings. Don’t get me wrong, Dalaran was amazing, and I love Silvermoon, but Orgrimmar hasn’t been bad. It’s dustier than Nagrand, yeah, but it’s still sort of…familiar, I guess. Eventually it might even start to feel like home.
It could still seriously use a few coats of paint, though. And don’t even ask me what’s up with all the spikes all over everything, because really.
Hello, young Shayari,
I am Lantresor of the Blade, chieftain of the Burning Skull Ogre Clan and formerly part of the Burning Blade Orc Clan. Like you, I am the child of a draenei and an orc, but my parentage is in the reverse — my mother was the orc, my father the draenei. My question is this: do you know anything about my father? I myself know only that his name was D’Kaan, he was a hunter of sorts, he lived in the village of Telaar, just like you, and he was dead by the time I passed the tests to become a Blademaster. I have had no luck seeking information elsewhere.
Also, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you – I assure you that I know and understand many of the things you have gone through, having experienced them myself. Be brave, child of two worlds; you are not alone.
–Lantresor of the Blade
P.S. Whatever you may have heard to the contrary, I am not trying to pursuing you romantically! Even if I was interested, I would know better than to seek a relationship with a mage – too much potential to become scorched earth, I say.
I know, Lanny, I’m too hot for a lot of people to handle. It’s okay.
I remember hearing about you back in Telaar. I picked up the fact that there had been other half-draenei-half-orcs, but it wasn’t something anyone liked to talk about, or even acknowledge if they could help it. Your name came up a couple times. Mostly fearfully. I don’t know what you did to put the fear of the spirits into those people, but I’ll tell you, whatever it was, it worked. I don’t know if I know much about your father, although his name does sound familiar. I think it might have come up in passing when Arechron would talk about some of the weird plant-based life, like the sporelings, that developed in Zangarmarsh after the world shattered. He would talk about these other…well… plant people, basically, that used to exist. Botanical something-or-other, maybe? Anyway, Arechron would sometimes talk about the rangari hunters who used to fight them, and how if any of the hunters survived the shattering they would probably take an interest in what’s happened in Zangar. That’s when I think he would have mentioned D’Kaan, along with a few other hunter people like him.
I don’t know how much that helps. I hope you can find out more about him, though. I know what it’s like not to know much about your family. I’m still trying to find things out myself. I’m still getting to know my dad, obviously, and I get the sense that there’s a whole bunch of other family history I’m still not in on.
Speaking of family history, does Pops usually get stuck answering so much of this stuff? Like on a regular basis? No wonder he gets cranky with people sometimes.
Well, anyway, thanks for writing in, everyone, even if a lot of you seem kinda weird. I guess this is where I should wrap this up.
And I guess this is where I should start looking up addresses for people who need a personal talking to.
More soon.
[Obligatory reminder: The Warchief’s next mailbag is coming up in two weeks, on Monday, October 5. Send in your letters either by e-mail (link at the top of the right sidebar!) or using the form below. Possible other guest mailbags in the future — time will tell!]
Monday mailbag
Okay, time to dip back into the mail and see what you peeps have on your minds these days. Getting right to it…
It has recently come to my attention that you have been…cavorting with trolls. Considering your political stance on trolls, this would do some great damage to your position as Warchief if this should get out. So perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement. A hundred thousand gold, delivered by your most resourceful grunts, to Razor Hill at sundown in three days’ time. Or this photo is released to the press!
*enclosed is a very incriminating photo of Garrosh getting a little…personal with an unnamed troll woman*
–A Humble Peon
Wait, what?
Hang on, hang on, are you talking about Zuri? Getting a lapdance now and then counts as “cavorting” these days? Um. Assuming I was getting lapdances. Which I was not by any means. At all. That, um, that photo you’ve got there is an obvious Photoshop job. Bad one at that. Yeah. So.
SO. More importantly. TRYING TO EXTORT THE WARCHIEF, huh? Oh, yeah, THAT’S a real smart move. Especially when you pretty much TELL me where you are. So, RAZOR HILL, is it? Well then, not-so-Humble Peon, I hope you have a nice window in your room to look out of, and a nice comfy chair you can sit back in, so you can watch the arrival of ALL THE KOR’KRON who are about to be CRAWLING ALL THE FUCK OVER RAZOR HILL starting, oh, I don’t know, TEN MINUTES AGO. We already had a few security questions down there, so you know what? Thank you, motherfucker, for giving me a reason to start tightening things up down there for real.
SEE YOU SOON, DEAD MAN WALKING.
As I write this, Mogor and I are wandering around Orgrimmar, getting a good look at the city. It’s a strange feeling to be back among my mother’s people, especially since I expected prejudice and judgement but have faced none. Mogor insisted we try out riding the local wolves, but there’s a reason ogres never took to riding, especially on wolfback. The sight of that clumsy fool trying to get on a wolf’s back and falling off the other side is one I shall long relish.
I wasn’t expecting to write another letter so soon, but given that a certain goblin saw fit to cast aspersions on my intentions regarding your daughter… well, best to clear up any doubts if we’re going to be working together closely on an ongoing basis, yes?
While I do have to admit that your daughter strikes me as a pretty little spitfire, I highly doubt she would want someone like me – even if I were the handsomest orc in the Horde, she probably already thinks I’m past my prime (you did notice my greying hair, didn’t you?) I do believe there was a time when I might have pursued her romantically – maybe back in the days before the rise of the Horde when peace existed between orcs and draenei. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any indication that she has the slightest interest in men, at least in that way. If anything, you may want to check if her interests go in… another direction.
The real reason I keep asking about her is that… well, there are two, actually. 1) I’m curious. I can’t help wondering if she knows anything about my father and what happened to him, or if any of the draenei from her village know who I am and the plight she and I faced. 2) I had hoped to tell her right from the off to be brave, because she is not alone. She is a child of two worlds and two people; so am I. And unlike Garona Halforcen, I do not resent her. I thought it would be best to say that sooner rather than later.
Besides, my taste in women has broadened since I became a leader of ogres. By which I mean, while ogre women are rare indeed… suffice it to say, my dear Garrosh, I have personal experience that they do. There are certain perks to being in charge. You know how it is.
I hope your opinion of me hasn’t been permanently poisoned. If you need any further proof of my good intentions, I can make an offer of that kind to Garona Halforcen myself. It would be an interesting experience to compare our physiques up-close, and it sounds to me like you could use someone to take her eyes off you.
As for the goblin responsible for those allegations, if she has any further doubts herself, or wishes to further discuss what a “huge complainer” I am… Please, send her along to me. I’d be happy to enlighten her in person. In great detail.
–Lantresor of the Blade
P.S. By the way, a little raven told me that Garona got pregnant by a human sorcerer and ended up giving birth to a boy who was half-human, quarter-orc, quarter-draenei. Is that true? If so, perhaps she’d appreciate baring the child of someone more like herself. Also, the blademasters I mentioned during our meeting have agreed to join up, and will be on their way as soon as they procure suitable transport. I hadn’t expected to work with Azuka Bladefury again after her father kicked me out of the Burning Blade clan, but it seems she didn’t agree with him about my banishment and got kicked out herself for her troubles. She seems amenable enough.
Hey, Lantresor. Good to hear from you, even if I’m little surprised to see you writing, what with us having been talking face to face the last few days. But, whatever works — sometimes it’s good to get your thoughts down on paper, I guess.
Glad you’re getting a good vibe from Orgrimmar. As you probably realized once you got to spend some time with yours truly, us orcs are usually pretty chill. As long as you’re not pissing us off. Or looking at us funny. Somehow I want to make a Jorin Deadeye joke here, but I’m not really coming up with anything specific. Oh well. You probably see where I would be going with it.
Heh. See. Unlike Jorin. Heheh. Fucker.
Anyway.
Dude, seriously, you wanna have a go at Garona? Be my guest. Have at it, man. One less thing for me to worry about. Believe me, I’ve had enough conversations with her that I would steer clear personally, but if that’s your thing, go right ahead, you do you. And hey, you know, since the two of you are both half-orc and half-draenei, wouldn’t it be kind of a hoot if you DID have some kids, and the halves from the both of you lined up so the kids came out either all orc or all draenei? Math is crazy, man.
So look, as far as Shayari goes, I know you’d be pretty old for her, but let’s be real here. The world is packed full of creepy old dudes who would not think twice about chasing after some PYT that caught their eye. SHE might not be interested in guys their age, but that sure as hell doesn’t stop THEM from trying. You know what DOES stop them? When Shay whips up a pyroblast to the crotch. There’ve been a lot of those around Orgrimmar since she’s been in town, let me tell you. Which is fine by me — it saves me the trouble of having to track the old fuckers down myself and opening up a family-sized can of agonizing pain on them.
But I mean, come on. “You may want to check if her interests go in another direction”? First of all, dude, there is no possible way for an out-of-the-blue conversation like that NOT to be thirty-three flavors of awkward. And second of all, why — WHY? — would you want to go planting THOSE mental images in people’s heads, for fuck’s sake? Seriously, I have ENOUGH trouble sometimes keeping Gurtash focused, without…
…
Never mind.
…
Moving on. Next letter.
I Mogor the Ogre. Mogor the other leader of Burning Skull. Mogor on his way around big orc city with Lantresor. You don’t know Mogor? That okay; Mogor only learned about you four-and-a-half weeks ago.
Mogor give you the short version of Mogor’s story. First Cho’Gall found Mogor and grabbed him by back of neck. Cho’Gall took Mogor to scary orc in hood. Scary orc in hood cast spell on Mogor, made Mogor grow new head. Mogor’s new head argued with Mogor’s old head. Mogor very confused. Scary orc in hood scoffed, called Mogor a “failure”. Cho’Gall throw Mogor away, but Mogor found orc clan, called themselves Laughing Skull. Then Mogor lived with clan and learned magic from Elements. In the end, Mogor rule clan.
Ner’Zhul tried to kill Mogor for stealing death knights, but Mogor survived that. Then funny pinkskins who called themselves “the Allianz” came to Orc-world, and Mogor gave them magic book as thanks for helping beat up Bonechewer Clan. Portals almost destroyed Orc-world, but Mogor survived. Then at arena in Na’Grand, stupid people kept killing Mogor, but Mogor always came back. Elements help Mogor, keep bringing Mogor back to life everytime Mogor die. Mogor not know why, but Elements say Mogor has important task to do for them. Mogor not get it, but that okay.
Mogor not expect to lead ogres again, but Laughing Skull went to work for red orcs. Red ogres are stupid. Mogor not join them. Anyway, Mogor listening to Elements to pass time on way ’round big orc city. Elements not happy. They say somebodies torturing them in caves under city, trying to conquer them. You know ’bout this? Mogor hear that orcs here Elements too, but not sure. Mogor hope so. Elements want Mogor to go down into caves and bash somebodies treating them bad. Mogor want to, but Lantresor keep saying “No.” He always saying “No.” He look at Mogor like Mogor is stupid and know nothing. Mogor not care. Lantresor can’t hear Elements. He not know they suffering. Mogor want to go down there. Mogor want to make somebodies stop torturing Elements.
Mogor sit down now. Heads hurt from writing.
–Mogor the Ogre
Oh. Good. So now I’m hearing from THIS one, too. I’m starting to wonder if Lantresor and Mogor are going to turn into a smarter version of Dontrag and Utvoch. Only I think there’s a pretty decent chance people will be able to keep Lantresor and Mogor straight. The fact that they have a different number of heads helps a lot.
Anyhow. Um. Look, Mogor, you should be listening to Lantresor, okay? Lantresor has the right idea: No. He’s clearly the brains of the operation anyway, and he’s got a much better idea of how things work in orc cities like Orgrimmar. I know all about the caves, and believe me, I’ve got people ON the situation as we speak. And it’s sensitive enough down there, what with the shaman trying to do their thing, and now I’ve got Mokvar down there trying to juggle like five things at once, and the last thing we need is an ogre running around like a kodo in a china shop. So just COOL it, okay? Remember, you and Lantresor were the ones who approached ME about signing on with the Horde, and I’m the Warchief, so your job here is to listen to what I’m telling you and let me worry about what we need to do down there.
Okay? Got that? Are we good?
Ugh. Ogres.
I have a question concerning Shayari. I’m an admirer of her fashion sense, especially that adorable adventurer number she was sporting during your recent journey to Blackrock Spire. Do you know if she has a particular vendor she frequents for her outfits? I realize this might be a better question to ask her directly, but I would imagine you might have an idea, since… well… you’re the one receiving the bills.
–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City
Yes. Yes I am. And based on the bills, Tandeleina, her favorite shop is ALL OF THEM. Like all of them, ever. Literally ever. Like when she arrives at a trade district, near as I can figure, her very presence must open up some kind of ripple in the fabric of time and space so she can stroll right on into shops that closed for good like three years ago, and then I get a backdated receipt charging interest.
So if you want to shop where Shay shops, I’ve got good news for you. You can’t NOT shop where Shay shops. Go ahead, pick a store. Any one you want. She’s been there. You can’t miss. It’s the surest sure thing that ever sured.
Perhaps you remember me, though I’d hardly doubt by name. After all, you’re the mighty wolf of an obedient pack. We hear your words, but do you always hear ours, your loyal and most valiant soldiers? Well, that remains to be seen.
My name is Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, though most would simply know me as “Sarlin” or even “Sarls”, although I respectfully request that you refrain from using the latter. It’s quite improper and, to be frank, greatly annoys me. My mother put her heart and soul into the name she bestowed upon me, and to abbreviate it not once, but twice, and to “Sarls” at that? No good. Anyway.
Moving on.
I’m a Paladin of the Argent Crusade, former captain for the Farstriders of Silvermoon. Should you wish to respond, please mail your letter back to Hearthglen, my current home.
I was one of the many heroes that came to the aid of the Alliance, Horde, Argent Crusade, Knights of the Ebon Blade and, at long last, the Ashen Verdict, when our hated enemy, Arthas Menethil, held the mantle of the dreaded Lich King. Before I enlist my queries, I would like to extend my thanks for a fine and noble effort. Your Horde underwent great strain to break through those cursed halls, and I wish to pass on (though delayed) my condolences for the loss of Dranosh Saurfang. May his soul find redemption with the elements, and live as far from the cursed plane of death as it possibly can. Moreover, if you happen to cross paths with Varok Saurfang, be sure to pass forward my gratitude for persistence and valour. I could not imagine fighting a war, knowing that my only child roamed the halls in death as all he stood against in life. Dark days, good warrior. Very dark days indeed.
But I digress! No, I have some questions for you, regarding your blog and other certain topics. First of all, wonderful effort! Who knew that you’d actually be able to get Sylvanas Windrunner, the BANSHEE QUEEN, to use the “^_^” emoji! And to see that even Sargeras himself has found his way here, from the Twisting Nether!? Very impressive. This may give us some insight on his plans, too. After all, we have our bows drawn towards the sky should the Burning Legion descend. In fact, I have two questions on the matter. One, how the fuck did the leader of the Burning-fucking-Legion secure a stable connection up there, and two, does he not know that internet routers can be traced and followed up? By the Light, he might as well wave a flag back and forth, set off a bunch of fireworks and say “This is where I live! Key’s under the mat!”
MOVING ON.
No, if I may raise a query on a more, ah, personal matter, regarding your daughter, Shayari. Yes, the word has found Hearthglen, if you would believe it. From what I’ve heard, Shayari is a young, diligent and rather rambunctious half-orc-half-draenei. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Prissy Blood Elf with more concern for my shampoo type than my people. No, actually. You see, I was raised, for the first few years of my life, among the Night Elves of Teldrassil by a Night Elf priestess and as a beacon of sunlight in a land composed entirely of stars and dusk, I can very much sympathize with how she must be feeling, previously a Silver Covenant magus and resident of the proud city of Dalaran, and now standing amongst the righteous soldiers of the Horde in Orgrimmar. Quite frankly, Warchief, I’m still coming to terms with her, ah, existence. After all, if I expected you to have a child at all, I never would have imagined its mother being a Draenei. Tell me, who does she resemble more closely, you or her mother? It would undoubtedly be easier for her if she had the more prominent features of her father but her appearance, alone, is but a fraction of the battle ahead. There is still the matter of adapting to her new surroundings. Forgive me, Orgrimmar isn’t quite as, hmm, shall we say “luxurious” or, really, if I’m going to be honest, quite as habitable as the likes of a pristine, welcoming Dalaran. Perhaps the plains of Mulgore or my own beloved homeland, Quel’Thalas, would be a more suitable home for the youngling? Has she seen the Undercity already? If so, I’m sorry. Dreadful place. I’d be inclined to feel pity for the fallen ranger, Sylvanas Windrunner, for having a constant party of orcs watch over her. In truth, it’s the poor orcs I pity. Sometimes I wonder why the Alliance is so desperate to take back Lordaeron, as though it were a prized gem. They’d have months, if not years, YEARS, of cleaning up after Sylvanas’s mess. And I do NOT mean that metaphorically, my good sir, oh no! I’m talking about the LITERAL mess of bones and sinew and stitched up body parts and dead humans and rusted tools of torture and blood-stained racks and murloc gizzards and infested deer tails, not to mention the gory aftermath of an alchemy lesson gone wrong with the jaws, arm and possibly eyeballs of the students strewn crudely across the floor with the mass of bubbling, toxic residue as said failed experiment among them. This is nothing against the Banshee Queen’s efforts towards the resources of your Horde, of course, but my word, is she a destructive one! To think her very own alchemists would perform their vile tests on not only the dead, but the living!? Did they not learn their lesson from Arthas? I tell you, my friend, she continues to surprise me even now! As though the events of the Wrathgate were not shockingly humiliating for the Horde as it was, but to spread the plague against your will in an effort to win a city that’s been walled up for years, only to be betrayed AGAIN and shot dead!? Oh, Light preserve our souls! It makes NO SENSE, I tell you!
Ahem. Anyway, as I was saying…
Yes, Shayari! Among the information that has reached me here regarding your daughter is, I believe, still in her teens. Now, as one of the soldiers who outlasted Arthas’s reign in Northrend, I think you’ll be quite surprised to hear that I doubt I am more than five years older than your daughter. At least, that’s how I feel. See, as I was adopted quite late into my toddlerhood, my age has always been a mystery to me. I’m just going by what the mirror, and my head, tells me. And here is where I state my query; does Shayari have much trouble fitting in? Does she have any peers, or anybody she likes to hang around with and talk about cute girly things, like clothes and makeup and the latest hits from our own Tauren Chieftains? Does she get lonely? Moreover, is there anyone she’d like to hang out with?
If this is the case, I would like to, most humbly, offer you, and of course, Shayari, my company. It would be an honour to stand in the presence of a great Horde leader, and a great Horde soldier in the making. I presume, anyway. After all, I know little of Shayari, save that she is your daughter and a mage. If the matter needs no further discussion, however, you’d do well to remember my offer should it ever come to question. I aim only to assist those in need, be they Alliance, Horde, or otherwise.
One last question for you, sir, and I’ll finish up. My inkpot is almost empty, anyway.
What’s the deal with lemon squares?
Shorel’aran, noble Warchief. Always have faith.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker
…
Holy shit.
YOUR INKPOT IS ALMOST EMPTY INDEED.
Sarlin, do you happen to be related to Tirion? Or maybe Grottee Metalbeard? Because this letter is like the two of them hooked up and gave birth to THIS LETTER.
Oh, and you guys wanna know the irony here? I mainly know Sarlin here from Twitter. Which means every other time she’s had something to say to me, she’s been limited to 140 characters. I GUESS THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE FUCKING GLOVES ARE OFF. Fucking hell.
So, okay, answers in no particular order:
The deal with the lemon squares is that lemon squares are fucking AWESOME. Where the hell have you been? I’ve always been a big fan of lemon squares, ever since Greatmother used to make them for me as a kid. But also, if you’re really, REALLY late to the party, well, back when I first started the blog, this troublemaking tree druid somehow got ahold of Greatmother’s recipe, then went and blabbed it on her own website. Which didn’t sit well with me. There was this whole to-do with me trying to get the situation under control, and I think the recipe is still out there, but eh, fuck it, at least now nobody has an excuse for not knowing how to make a decent tray.
About Sargeras… who the hell knows how he’s able to get stable internet up there in the Nether. I’d like to know who he’s got working on that, though — it’s a fuckton better than the wireless network Grizzle Gearslip slapped together for me down in Pandaria. That’s a pretty good call, too, about tracing the signal. Might have to get Spazzle on that. Have him do…you know… some nerdy thing that he knows how to do that I don’t really give a fuck about.
And as for Shay… well, I mean, look at her. Obviously she takes after her mother more. She has a few physical differences from a typical draenei, but she definitely looks a lot more draenei than she does orc. And she’s seventeen, yeah. And yeah, she’s been to the Undercity — funny you’d mention the alchemists down there, seeing as the REASON she goes to Undercity, on a pretty regular basis, in fact, is to see the master apothecary down there, who’s kind of in charge of continuing her mage training. In her down time, I’m not sure what’s going on with her as far as friends go. I think she’s been hanging out with Taktani a little, which, I mean, don’t ask me to explain that one, but I guess they ARE pretty close age-wise. Even if Shay’s…like…a good decade older than Tak as far as MENTAL age goes. But whatever.
As for giving her someone else to hang out with, I mean, sure, but I’m not really the one to ask. You’re free to try reaching out to her yourself, and…I guess…ask her on a friend-date or something? Or whatever the hell you kids do these days? But either way, yeah, probably better to ask her yourself.
And ACTUALLY, since like… EVERYBODY seems to have questions about Shayari these days, you know what? Here. I’ll LET you ask her yourself. Bonus mailbag, coming up pronto, where I’ll get Shay to answer your questions personally. Will that satisfy you people? There. Have at it. Go nuts. I’ll be the one sitting in the back chuckling while she tries to deal with you people.
I’m out for now. More soon.
[TRANSLATION, and COMING ATTRACTIONS TEASE: As the Warchief promised, this month will feature a bonus, GUEST mailbag, in which Shayari answers your letters. Shay’s guest mailbag will take place on Monday, September 21. Send your letters to garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the form below. Please indicate in the subject line or body of the message that it’s a letter for Shayari, just to make sure I don’t mix it up with a question for Garrosh. Speaking of whom, don’t forget the next mailbag coming from Garrosh himself, on Monday, October 5! Get your letters in for that one, too!]
Monday mailbag
Time to dip back into the ol’ mailbag. Let’s see what we’ve got this time around…
Firstly, I thank you for accepting Grimjaw into the Kor’kron fold, and hope he will serve you well; secondly, my apologies for the depressive content of my letters – it was not my intention to “bring the room down”.
Instead, I will share some good news with you: my son has taken to training as a warrior and will be ready to take his Om’riggor – his rite of passage – next year, and my daughter has taken to learning the shamanic arts. I have high hopes for both of them.
Also, there’s something I think you should hear, Warchief. Another of my wolves – Golmash, I call him, after your grandfather, whose legend is known even to me – has a black pelt and a set of eerie green eyes. And I don’t mean in the dark, slimy green of a swamp so much as a strange, otherworldly glare. I didn’t think anything of it the first time I noticed, but since then I’ve been feeling strangely ill-at-ease whenever he looks at me. I did some research into the nature of these eyes and what I’ve found… is both confusing and disturbing.
On one hand, the eye colour is not unique or unnatural (so far as anyone can tell); on the other hand, only one particular wolf dynasty has ever had them, and rarely so. This dynasty, dubbed “moonwolf”, lived in Shadowmoon Valley until the arrival of the Legion and the corruption of the land that ensued, and the last known scion of this lineage was Skychaser, the companion of Ner’zhul. The fate of the fallen Great Shaman is well-known, but no one knows what happened to his wolf.
I have never had any encounter with that particular lineage, and so far as I can tell, Golmash is strictly of Frostwolf and Nagrandeur descent; thus, the cause of his haunting eyes remains a mystery. How should I proceed from here, Warchief? I am loathe to create a problem where there is none, but something in my gut tells me sinister things are afoot.
Yours faithfully,
–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master
Hey again, Ogunaro. Grimjaw’s gotten settled in over at the Kor’kron stables. I’ve been over to have a look at him, and he IS a pretty fine looking wolf. Like I mentioned last time, I’ve got something in mind for him, but it’s going to be a little bit before I get that going. The timing is kind of up in the air for the time being, but hopefully things will fall into place soon. I’ll keep you updated as things go.
As for this mystery wolf of yours (appreciate the shout-out to Golmash, by the way… well, unless it turns out there’s something seriously fishy going on with him, in which case, gee, thanks for dragging my grandfather into it)… that does sound pretty weird. I can’t say I’ve run into any glowy green-eyed wolves myself, and I’ve ridden more than my share over the years. Still, I don’t want to start running around cooking up crazy stories and conspiracy theories, especially when you sound like you’ve got a good sense of the line this wolf came from. So for right now, what I’d recommend is keeping a close watch on him and maybe keep him apart from your other wolves when you’re not able to monitor them. Is there anything strange about his behavior? How does he get along with the other wolves? Or with you, for that matter? Anything you’ve noticed about him that’s different from most wolves, OTHER than the green eyes?
This is definitely worth monitoring, but I don’t want to start panicking straight away. The Ner’zhul connection is creepy as fuck, but I also don’t put a lot of stock in ghost stories. Unless the ghost in question is one of those bankers down at the Undercity, because funny enough, those dudes actually DO come up with some pretty good stock tips. FYI.
Grats on your kids coming along with their training, by the way. Are they working with anyone in the military trainee program, or has it been individual class training so far? I’ve got a bunch of trainees studying under me, but then you probably already knew that if you read the blog. Your son’s coming up on his om’riggor next year, huh? He must be pretty advanced at this point, in that case. I’m hoping some of mine will be ready for the rite before too long, but right now that’s pretty dependent on…well, a bunch of things. No need to belabor ’em with you. I’m sure you know the drill. Next year would be pretty nice, though.
Anyway, I’ll keep you posted on what’s up with Grimjaw. And the other wolf thing.
It seems serendipity brought me and your little “trainee” together. But I’ll elaborate on that in a moment. First, let me tell you that Boulderfist purchased our computer equipment from a rather enterprising goblin shaman and obtained our Internet as spoils of war from the Shadow Council. How they can be smart enough to create working Internet here on Outland and yet foolish enough to serve the Burning Legion is beyond me, but then there it is. Now about your trainee…
I was naturally curious when several of my ogres came wandering up the hill to me complaining about an outbreak of headaches. As it happens, they had incurred these headaches from being repeatedly smashed in the face (and other places) with a shield by an eager, cheerful little orc girl with a potbelly worthy of a ogre woman (few of them that there are). How fortunate that she isn’t as good at killing ogres as she thinks; I settled for reproaching my men for being stupid enough to let a orcling child knock the stuffing out of them. Some claim the ordeal has left them dumber – but frankly, dear Hellscream, I doubt that very much, and if it has, it hasn’t made that much difference.
At any rate, even allowing for the fact that she didn’t know about our truce, as I discovered when I caught her lurking around the Laughing Skull Ruins watching that brute of a shaman Mogor pounding a group of fledgling Alliance “heroes” into the ground and confronted her, there is a certain principle about truces that has to be upheld – namely, the principle that you don’t attack the people you have a truce with. So when I learned of this Jorin Blackeye or whatever his name was continuing to send adventurers after my ogres, I decided a response was called-for.
We lured him out of Garadar under the pretense of discussing a peace settlement concerning the village of Halaa with the Kurenai Broken, and there I confronted him about his actions. I had hoped to settle things in a reasonable way, but not only did he spout some nonsense about “no forgiveness” and whatnot, he took the time to pass comment about my Burning Blade heritage before he started to walk away. After that… well, it’s very embarassing. He sort of walked right into my blade. Face-first, no less. And my blade brushed against his one good eye. All completely by accident. How very careless of the both of us.
Anyway, given that he was using that eye for no-good purposes, perhaps it is an acceptable casualty. I hear he has not dared show his face in public since then – with an injury like that, I know I wouldn’t – and that his clan are electing a new leader. Hopefully they’ll be more understanding from now on.
By the way, speaking of Mogor, the brute and I have reached an accord: a permanent end to the fighting between our clans and the merging of Boulderfist and Warmaul into a single clan, as it was long ago, under the name Burning Skull (somehow, Laughing Blade just doesn’t have the same ring to it). We’re interested in signing on with your Horde – I admit, I’m curious about meeting another of my own kind, even if she is very different from me, and the contribution I can offer you seems like a fitting gesture.
Mogor has portalled us to a small goblin harbour in the Barrens. We’ll be in Grommash Hold soon to discuss terms.
–Lantresor of the Blade
Okay, you know what? Not going to lie. Not a whole lot registered other than the part about Jorin getting a little what-for. In the face. Jorin Blackeye indeed. Heh. HeheheHAH. HAHAHAHA. Such a dick.
So wait, did you actually get his eye, or JUST graze him, or what? I get that you did some damage, but eyes are tricky territory, and even a little extra flick of the blade one way or the other could… hmm… you know, come to think of it, probably best not to dwell on it. I’ll probably end up hearing through channels soon enough.
So speaking of trainees, you realize that when Mirembe sees your letter, of all the stuff you brought up, all she’s going to notice is the “potbelly” part, right? I can almost hear the letter landing in my inbox now.
Also, eesh, surprise guests. I better have Marogg whip up some food to greet these people with when they get here. I wonder if he still has any of that Darkspear rice sitting around for his jambalaya. Pretty tasty stuff, actually, as long as the rice wasn’t sitting around trollville for too long, in which case you end up getting this weird dizzy feeling if you eat too much of it.
I was perusing this here blog and I noticed the letter you got from Lantresor. Now, readin’ between the lines here I gotta say… it sounds like that is one lonely half-orc-half-draenei dude lookin’ to get all buddy-buddy with the father of the — *looks around nervously and makes a circuit of the room listening for stealthy swoosh sounds* — youngest and most attractive of the only two lady half-orc-half-draenei girls in the world. Which makes me question his motivations, if you hear what I’m sayin’ and know what I mean.
Not that Shayari can’t handle herself or deal with unwanted attention, but… I’m just sayin’…
Also, not for nothin’, but I hear that Lantresor is a huge complainer. An acquaintance of mine worked with him for a while, and all he ever did was whine, whine, whine. “How long are we going to stay here?” And, “I miss the grassy plains of Nagrand!” Oh boo hoo hoo! Drove everyone else bonkers.
Have a good one!
–Khizzara.
Oh, PS: I dropped a buncha flowers off for Gurtash. Wish I could do something more, but as a mage I’d probably only make things worse. And as a goblin, I might uh, make him explode. Kinda counterproductive for the healin’.
Yeah, that Lantresor guy is…
Hang on.
…
<thinks>
…
Oh FUCKING HELL, SERIOUSLY?
I… he… you mean… HOW THE FUCK OLD IS THAT GUY, ANYWAY?
I’m… suddenly feeling a strange craving for dead ogres.
Wait, that would mean giving Jorin the satisfaction. And not for anything, but I refuse to live in a universe where Jorin Blackeye—erm, I mean Deadeye… is validated.
And yet.
Fuck. Rock and a hard place.
HANG ON HANG ON HE’S ON HIS WAY HERE TOO, LIKE SOON AND SHIT.
Dammit. If he’s out cruising for half-orc, half-draenei action… maybe I can pull a bait-and-switch on him? I wonder if Garona’s doing anything this week. I could invite her to attend whatever reception I end up stuck holding for these people and really lay it on thick about how much I’d like her to be there and OH SHIT NEVER MIND THAT’S JUST GOING TO GIVE HER IDEAS.
Fucking hell, this parenting shit isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. UGH.
I apologize for disturbing you, when as your loyal subject it should be my duty to relieve your stresses, not add to them, but I have a delicate question for you. (by the way, could you please appoint us Blood Elves a Regent? I got a rude note from someone calling himself “Bob” saying you had named a Lord Invincible to the post, but I’ve never seen him . . . ?)
Anyhow, I . . . met a girl. Cat. Woman. Druid. Ummm, she’s really really beautiful, and she loves it when I pet her, and she purrs when we take naps in the sunlight, and we love to just stare into each others’ eyes when she’s a cat. Not a small cat, a big black panther. But anyways, I met her as part of trying to research help for my . . . not quite alive condition. She’s with the Cenarion Circle, and I guess they had a grudge against orcs for killing Cenarius, only he’s not dead anymore so that’s ok, I hope. We started spending time together, and slaughtering murlocs, and I found out that when we’re together I can feel my heart beating again. Umm . . . is it ok that she’s a Night Elf? We stay at her cave in Moonglade when I’m not on assignment, so she won’t disturb any members of the Horde.
Hopefully,
–Sintra E’Drien of Silvermoon.
Ps. Shouldn’t Loktar Ogar mean something more like “My Victory, Their Death!”?
I… Hang on, when did this mailbag turn into the fucking Dating Game?
So hold it, Sintra, are you seriously asking me to sign off on you shacking up with a freaking NIGHT ELF? I mean, I already had ENOUGH of a headache just recently dealing with Mokvar’s human chick, and as far as I can gather SHE’S at least his EX-wife, as opposed to whatever the fuck you have going on that’s just in the early magical bloom of insert-your-greeting-card-bullshit-romantic-cliche-here.
And so, on top of the night elf part, she’s a druid, and from the sound of it you spend most of your time together with her in cat form? And you’re still technically dead… and… I don’t even KNOW what the fuck that is, like now you’re just doing the backstroke around a giant cocktail glass loaded up with some spiritsforsaken concoction of bestiality and (reverse?) necrophilia and disloyalty and furry and OMG. I mean the only part of that whole damn part of it that I can sign off on is the whole “slaughtering murlocs” thing, because let’s face it, who’s not down for good wholesome murloc slaughter? Other than the murlocs, I suppose. But who knows, maybe not. I know if I were a murloc, I would fucking hate me.
Hang on, though.
Jog my memory here, Sintra… aren’t you a blood elf chick? Because if so, and she’s… that might…
<thinks>
No. No. Never mind. Sticking with the dead-murloc-lone-highlight position. The end. Turn the page. Ahem.
I’ll be in my bunk.
[Keep those letter coming! Send e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the form below. Next mailbag July 6!]
Monday mailbag
You know what this is, you know how this works, let’s get right to it.
I heard that you really like bacon. ME TOO! Bacon is the greatest. It’s like candy, but it’s meat. I like meat. I want to try ALL the meat! I tried crocolisk yesterday for the first time and it was really good! It tastes a bit like pork, but more gamey. What’s your favorite meat that’s not bacon? Are there any animals you would like to eat but haven’t had a chance to try yet? Yay, meat!
–Suirohtal, Archdruid of People for the Eating of Tasty Animals
Holy shit, this guy is like Bizarro Lathorius! And also, gotta say, this PETA sounds like something I could totally get behind. So you know what? YAY MEAT INDEED, MY GOOD MAN. I think I like this archdruid a hell of a lot better than the other guy. Speaking of which, if you have an urge to send a giant kodo caravan to Orgrimmar carrying a vast assortment of meats, well, that would be super nifty and keen.
Can’t say I’ve had crocolisk, but if it reminds you of pork, it can’t be half bad. Naturally, nothing beats bacon, but there is no kind of pork that can steer you wrong. Or roasted boar. That’s some damn good eating, too. Basically if it’s a meat that comes from a porcine source, we’re good. Pork is pretty much the alpha meat. (You quillboar better take care not to get on my nerves too much.)
Talbuk and clefthoof are both pretty good, too, by the way. Clefthoof, I’ll have you know, makes for damn good stew meat especially. Keep that in mind next time there’s a cold winter night and you feel like getting big pot of something going over the fire.
Dammit, I’m making myself hungry.
Anyhow. I can’t think of any animals I’d like to eat that I haven’t. I’ve done a fair bit of hunting over the years, so I’ve eaten a lot of different meats. If anything, the thing I’d really like to eat more of would be vegetables. I can’t say I’ve made much of a habit of including them in my diet, and I think it would be pretty great if HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I THOUGHT I COULD GET THAT OUT CLEAN.
Anyway, though, thanks for writing, Suirohtal, and getting the mailbag off to a good start. This bodes well for a fun time this mailbag.
Firstly, my thanks for hearing my plea. I look forward to observing the Alliance reaping what they sowed when they killed my mate.
Secondly, to answer your question, yes, I am related to Shyrka Wolfrunner. You see, she is my cousin – the daughter of my father’s brother. Our family has a tradition of keeping and breeding wolves for mounted travel and combat – not as exciting as the Saurfang warrior line, I know, but one I am no less proud of. I’m told my father maintained the last wolf kennel on Draenor before it was destroyed, working for the Thunderlord Clan while the clans were ruled by Shadowmoon and the fallen Great Shaman, Ner’zhul.
For your wyvern’s new, ahem, ‘habits’, I have a solution. Such stains are easily removed using a solution made from ground-up Fadeleaf and Sungrass. Since the ingredients are found so far apart from each other, I enclose a sample in the flask attached to this letter. With any luck, Overlord Malkorok will no longer have to worry about stains on his boots. To prevent it from happening again, your guards should walk up and down. Animals will not do their business on moving objects.
Finally, if you’re interested, Warchief, I have a wolf you may wish to take for your Kor’kron mounted forces. He is the pride of his litter, one of two pups who are stronger, tougher and more agile than any of their siblings. Most of my wolves are sold to greenhorn adventurers, carrying them across Azeroth on their quests or into the fray in a battleground, but this wolf, Grimjaw, and his younger sister are being held in reserve for special occasions. The younger one, Blackfang, is for my son, a present for when he comes of age. Grimjaw was to be an anniversary present for Detanga, to replace her last wolf who died of old age some time ago, but as you know, that is now a moot point.
I was originally worried about what would happen to my wolvess if any of them were taken to the Kor’kron stables, but before I started writing this my daughter asked me, “Daddy, when will Mummy be coming home from her ‘expitition’?” because I hadn’t the heart to tell her, and nothing has ever hurt me so much as telling her that her mother will never come home, and seeing the tears well up in her eyes, and holding her and her brother to my chest while doing my best not to cry myself.
They deserve to have their mother hold them in her arms and tell them how proud she is of them. I can’t give them that, but if my wolves can bear your warriors into battle so that no more sons and daughters will grow up without a parent, I will have served my Horde well and given Detanga’s spirit cause to rest in peace.
Yours faithfully,
–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master
OH, FUCKING HELL, dude, how many times are you going to bring the damn room down?!
I mean. Um. Yeah, uh, still sorry for the loss of your wife, Ogunaro. And, I mean, that whole story about your wolves, and your daughter, and having to… um… explain what… erm… what happened… and… And hang on, um, I think it must be hayfever season or some shit, I need to… yeah, hold up, I need blow my nose. Or something.
…
AHRRM. OKAY. Fucking weird…there must be something in the air or something. Hrrmph. Ahem. Okay. OKAY.
So.
I appreciate the offer of the wolf, Ogunaro. I’ll be honored to take Grimjaw into the Kor’kron fold. Rest assured, considering what he means to you, he’ll be well taken care of, and as a mater of fact, I’ll make sure he’s groomed for a role of some importance. Now, mind you, I’m already good on mounts – everybody who reads the blog is familiar with Mortimer, obviously, but even on the wolf end of things, I’m covered what with me already having Malak. But… I think I have a job that would suit Grimjaw just fine. Stay tuned.
I know you answered my letter in the last mailbag, but that was a really long time ago. Like, longer than the wait between Winter’s Veil and Noblegarden! Anyway, I thought you’d like another update on my training! I still do the meat shield thing, and boy do things drop super fast when my shield meets their faces! I’m actually in Outland now! Can you believe it?! I even had enough gold to buy my own wyvern from the nice lady in Orgrimmar. I think his name is George. At least, he likes it when I call him that.
Me and George have been having all kinds of fun! We even met a nice zombie man who took us through some smelly dungeons full of red orcs and those snake people so I could learn how to warrior better! He was really cool for being a zombie.
Oh! I even met some brown orcs like you! They didn’t like me at first, but their shaman said she trusted me. Then I said you were my Warchief and they liked me! They even kept me safe from those big robots that roam around!
Anyway, I think this letter’s gone on long enough. Plus George is looking for his wyvern chow.
–Mirembe
PS: I had so many teeth from shield bashing that I made you a necklace to thank you. It has to be better than those silly charm bracelets you get every year!
Hey, Mirembe. Glad the training is coming along. Grats on the wyvern – trust me, you’ll love having one. It takes a little time for you to get used to each other, but once you do, you’ve got yourself a loyal companion for life. They DO seem to have some lame-ass names, though. Don’t know what to make of that.
Anyway, make sure you check in with me before you go back to what’s-her-face to upgrade your flying license and kick George up to the fast lane. I’ll see to it that they hook you up with the trainee discount. The discount being that they charge you with an I.O.U. that they have to come to me personally to collect, in whatever amount they feel comfortable coming to ask me for face-to-face, alone in a closed room, where I have Gorehowl hanging on the wall while I kick back in a chair carved out of a giant skull. Should save you a coin or two.
And hey, sounds like you’re getting in good with the Mag’har. Sweet! If you’re rolling around in Outland helping them out, you’re probably going to wind up in Nagrand before too long. Gotta admit I miss the place…it’s been too long since I’ve been around. When you get there, make sure you look up Greatmother Geyah. She pretty much raised me after my mom died. Sweet lady, definitely get in good with her, but, word of advice? When you talk to her, when she starts asking about your life, don’t volunteer any more information than you have to. Give her too many details to sink her teeth in, and trust me, she will try to greatmother you the fuck to DEATH. Still, tell her I said hi. Also, if you happen to see Jorin Deadeye while you’re out there, tell him I said fuck you. Dude’s a dick. Always gave me a hard time, when we were kids, about Grom being the one who doomed our people. Like HIS dad was any hot shit. Fucker.
And hey, thanks for the necklace. It actually kinda looks like the one I made myself years and years ago. See, it’s a tradition in the Warsong clan to make a necklace from bones or teeth from your earliest kills, carved with ceremonial runes. The teeth from this necklace weren’t from your FIRST kills, right? I wouldn’t want to take those from you – those should be yours. Otherwise, though, awesome. I appreciate the gesture, as long as it’s not stepping on ceremonial toes. Come to think of it, Mira, which clan are you from?
Can’tcha say somethin’ nice ’bout trolls, mon?
–Zim’bobwe, Sen’jinn Village
No.
Okay, okay, fine. Ben-Lin’s been on me to try to be more positive, so maybe if I scrape up something here it’ll shut her the fuck up for ten seconds about me being fucking negative like that shit’s any of her business in the first place. For fuck’s sake.
What was I saying? Oh. Yeah. Fucking trolls.
So, okay, fine. Something nice about trolls. And I’m even going to try not to be snarky and say something like “Well at least they’re mortal so I know they’ll die eventually.” Even though that’s totally true, and a definite plus. Where was I again? Fuck, I’m losing focus a lot today. Might have had too much kafa. Anyway.
So yeah. Something nice about trolls. So okay, here we go.
Those motherfuckers can dance. Like they’ve got moves like nobody’s business. Especially some of those troll girls, because…you know what? I don’t like trolls as a general rule, but…every so often, you have to entertain exceptions.
Yeah, yeah, fine, give me looks. Check ’em out sometime. NO JURY WOULD CONVICT ME.
After your recent (and highly illuminating) live blog, I decided to look into this Ask.fm site you’d mentioned. After entertaining a handful of questions though, something strange started happening. Some anonymous person or people seemed determined to keep asking me questions that weren’t really questions, just requests for “Pap of house,” “Pap of your room,” and maybe most distressing “Pap of feet.” I have no idea what they’re asking. You seem to be more familiar with internet customs than I am Warchief – what does this “pap” mean, and why is this person so interested in it? And what does it have to do with my feet??
–Disturbed In Durotar
Oh geez.
Welcome to the world of internet jackassery, DID. If this is your first encounter with it, congratulations on logging on to the internet for the first time ever this week.
So…the “PAP” thing. Yeah. I get this, too. So apparently, it’s an acronym, only I don’t really want to call it an acronym because “acronym” sounds like something that should be at least marginally smart rather than the soul-bleeding exhibition of stupid that almost invariably goes hand-in-hand with this little gem. But I guess it’s supposed to stand for “Post A Picture.” So the people you’ve heard from apparently want to see your house, your room, and your feet, and honest to fuck I couldn’t even take a guess at which of those you should be more fucking disturbed about. Maybe your feet. But I guess that might depend on how much cool stuff you’ve got at your house that these fuckers might try to break in and steal.
You know what? No. It’s the feet thing. Because seriously, internet freak shows, seriously.
Speaking of which, kind of. Like I said, I’ve gotten these “PAP” questions a lot, too. Like, relentlessly. And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. And I know I’ve made this point on Ask.fm before, but on the off chance any of these PAP-spamming fucknoses are reading this now, I’d like to take a moment here to address them directly:
Good evening, wastes of life.
I can understand why you value efficiency. I get it. I really do. You people clearly have rich, busy lives, skulking around in your caves and musing over what it would be like if someone could invent some magical substance that would remove the stink from your assorted crevices with the mere addition of water. Maybe they could package the stuff in solid cakes small enough to hold in one hand. I’m just spitballing here.
Point is, you want to be time-efficient because you’ve got shit to do. You can’t burn up your whole afternoon search-and-pecking your way through whole words, because dammit, you’ve got business to tend to on the internet, and if you can’t cut a few corners on questions you’re voluntarily posting to people who don’t give a fuck about you, well then, that’s less time you can devote to running around posting other comments like, say:
Because then who the fuck is going to illustrate irony for people so they can understand what it is? Or maybe you need to get around to your blog reading so you can offer incisive commentary like:
Because FUCK THAT GUY, THAT’S WHY. FUCK HIM IN THE ASS WITH A PITCHFORK-MOUNTED JACKHAMMER. POINT BEING. You’ve got shit to do and you don’t have time to waste writing out whole words like “for” and “you” and “are,” and spirits fucking save us if you ever need to say “you are,” because now we’re getting into your/you’re territory and at that point holy shit ALL bets are fucking off.
So I get it. I do. You’ve got places to go (virtually) and people to meet (i.e., to yell at online with a raging bitterness despite never having met these people in reality) and you can’t have trivial things like keystrokes and complete words standing between you and your complete and utter worthlessness as a living being.
Here’s the thing.
And I can’t stress this enough.
YOU’RE NOT EVEN SAVING YOURSELF ANY FUCKING KEYSTROKES WITH THE FUCKING “PAP” THING. You can just type “pic” and ask the same damn thing, and still use the exact same number of letters. IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME, LOOK, WE’LL COUNT TOGETHER. ONE, TWO, THREE – the number of letters in “PAP.” ONE, TWO, THREE – the number of letters in “pic.” ONE, TWO, THREE – your total number of IQ points. SEE HOW IT ALL WORKS OUT? WERE YOU ABLE TO FOLLOW THAT DEMONSTRATION OR DO I NEED TO GET A FUCKING PURPLE SAN’LAYN PUPPET IN HERE TO TAKE YOU THROUGH IT AGAIN?
And hey, guess what, while you’re at it saying “pic” like a normal person who hasn’t been beaten in the head with a brick for six hours straight by everyone who’s ever lived plus six more guys, you also have the ADDED bonus of NOT reminding people of a fucking medical procedure that NO ONE HAS EVER HAD HAPPY ASSOCIATIONS WITH EVER IN THE HISTORY OF EVER.
So listen – if you have “PAP” as part of your functional vocabulary, here’s what you need to do. Go get a chisel. Now grab onto the fucker real real tight – like imagine the chisel is your dick and you just found footage online of someone being really unhappy and you’re getting ready to jerk off to that shit, because FUCK YOU – and jam that chisel right up into your brain and shove it around until you’ve scraped all memory of this “PAP” shit right the fuck out of there forever. Okay? Stop it. Just stop it. “PAP” us no more “PAPs.” ENOUGH ALREADY. ENOUGH. KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF, AND I HOPE YOU DIE.
I’m glad we had this little talk.
More soon.
Next mailbag May 4! E-mail garrosh1337@gmail.com or submit your message below: