Category Archives: Mailbag
Monday Mailbag
Don’t forget to make your last-minute suggestions for Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge this week! The last installment was the Sylvanas poem from Friday, so be sure to put your ideas in the comments there. In the meantime, let’s have a look at this week’s mail…
Since you’ve shown an interest in this week’s Noblegarden activities, I thought you might want to know about some rather…strange events going on around them. Down here in Bloodhoof Village, many of us have been engaging in the traditional egg hunts. As you probably already know, some of those eggs are magical, and when gathered they spawn several bunnies. So fairly early on in the holiday season, the village ends up being filled with dozens of these little rabbits, hopping around all over the place and going about their business.
That much is fine, it’s part of the holiday and we don’t mind the rabbits at all. The problem is that this year, we’re having an extra, unexpected guest whom we weren’t expecting. A few days into Noblegarden, the forest nymph Mylune, whom I think you’ve met, showed up unannounced and…well…just started going nuts. Not violent nuts or anything, she just saw all the bunnies and flipped. She’s been scampering around the village hugging as many rabbits as she can herd together, talking baby talk to them, and squealing on and on every time she sees more of them.
She’s not bothering anyone, really, just minding her own bunny-hugging business, and I can’t say she’s doing any harm. We tauren generally are on good terms with the dryads, so I don’t think we’re going to have any real trouble with her. It’s just…really weird. So I thought you might want to know what was happening.
–Maur Raincaller, Bloodhoof Village
Huh. Well, Maur, as long as she’s not actually causing any real problems, this might be one that we just let sit. Not to stick you guys with her charming company down there in Bloodhoof Village, but honestly? After last time, I’m not going anywhere near that chick. You should be fine, the holiday’s over now so she’ll probably go home soon enough, just make sure your newbie druids down there don’t try shifting into animal forms while she’s around. And you might want to tell any hunters you’ve got to keep their distance if they have pets. Oh and also, it might be a little inconvenient, I know, but you might want to give your windrider master a day or two off and just close down the flight path. I know from experience the wyverns probably aren’t going to get a lot done while she’s around, and your flight master will probably appreciate being spared the headaches. And possible bosom-clasp bruises.
How come people always be makin’ a big deal about dese death knights? I be pwnin’ dem down here in de Echo Isles ever since dey started seein’ dey trainers here.
–Bob, Echo Isles
Um, okay, first of all, idiot, there ARE no death knight trainers in the Echo Isles. There aren’t any baby death knights running around the junior league training areas like Echo Isles or Razor Hill or whatever. Because – NEWS FLASH, dimwit – all the death knights in the Horde are former Knights of the Ebon Blade, who were turned into death knights by Arthas back in the day, so the ONLY place they can train is in their own damn floaty city out in the Eastern Plaguelands. Which you would KNOW if you didn’t have your head jammed so far up your ass that you don’t have any fucking idea what’s going on AROUND you.
Which brings me to my next point. Dude, what the fuck is up with you? Seriously. Every few weeks I get some letter from you where you’re asking about some shit that absolutely anybody with a brain already knows, and half the time you’ve got something cringe-inducingly WRONG, so like, really, what’s your deal? Did you just get dropped on your head like eight thousand times? Did you, Dontrag, and Utvoch draw straws to see who got how much of the one brain you’ve got between you all, only you wound up with nothing because you lost focus and stuck your straws in your nose and started cracking yourself up making walrus noises? Or did you put on a bear suit for who the fuck knows what reason, then made the bad decision to drop by Hyjal, and next thing you knew that aforementioned prancy head case Mylune ran up and started squeezing you till she literally made you shit your brain right out? Because I’m really trying to figure you out, and I’m not coming up with much of anything other than something like that.
I tell you, I give Vol’jin a lot of crap, but spirits help him if this is the kind of wall-to-wall hired help he’s got to choose from down there.
I’m not quite sure how to begin, or even if you would want to hear from me. I’m sorry that I haven’t tried to contact you until now. I hope that in the end you’ll understand why.
When the red pox tore through our people in Nagrand, you and I were both afflicted, like most of the rest of the Mag’har. It was probably so long ago that you barely even remember it, if you do at all. I remember it well. I remember how sick you became. But I knew you would make it through. Even then, you were strong. You were always so strong.
Eventually the healers of Garadar began to cure our people of the red pox. Bit by bit, our little forgotten village began to recover. My symptoms, though, continued undiminished, no matter what our shamans did. Worse yet, in a few cases, those who had been cured found themselves reinfected after being around me, only this time with symptoms that were far more severe, and resisted all attempts at treatment. Almost without exception, they died.
I, on the other hand, lived on, suffering but alive, as if the pox and I were locked in a stalemate: me too strong to die, the disease too strong to fade. The shamans decided that somehow I had become a carrier for a far more virulent strain of that hateful disease.
In time, Garadar recovered, and I was the only one left, with no end to the pox in sight. More and more, those who came close to me found themselves infected. And more and more quickly, those who fell infected would die.
In time I decided that I could not remain a burden to our people. I exiled myself from the Mag’har, taking up shelter in a small hovel hidden away in the mountains near the Ancestral Grounds. When time and illness finally took me, I thought, at least I would be close to our sacred place. Perhaps the spirits would help guide me to the next life.
I disappeared quietly one night. At my urging, Greatmother Geyah told the village that the pox had finally taken me. In the eyes of Garadar, I had died. Only a handful of the elders knew the truth.
Years passed. The pox carried on unabated. So did I. All the while, I watched from afar as best I could. I watched as the demons’ hold on our once-beautiful world waned. I watched as the Mag’har slowly regathered themselves. And I watched you, Garrosh. I watched you grow up, strong as you always were, a man before your years, denied the luxury of a childhood. And I watched you live in a self-made purgatory forged of your father’s sins.
It broke my heart.
Years more passed, and you left Draenor to pursue a new life. A better life, I prayed.
Then, not long ago, a group of healers found me in my mountain refuge. I did not know them, and their garments were of a make unfamiliar to me. They were not of the Mag’har, some not even orcs. I do not know how they knew to find me, but they claimed to have new medicines from the world the orcs had taken up as their new home. While they could not offer a cure, they claimed they could contain the pox enough to prevent its spread. Under their treatment, the disease would no longer be airborne, only contagious by contact. A small comfort, but now at least, they said, the pain of the disease need not be compounded by the misery of solitude.
In time, I decided to risk revealing myself. I returned to Garadar, to the welcoming embrace of Greatmother Geyah.
In the days since my return, she has updated me on much that has transpired in my absence. The war, the internment, the demise of Mannoroth and the lifting of the blood haze. But most of all she told me of you. Strong and proud. A hero of a faraway war, fought against the icy talons of death itself. A leader of men, and now, Warchief of our people.
I do not wish anything from you, Garrosh. I have decided to reach out to you now only that you might finally know the truth, and know that I am so very, very proud of you. Do honor to our people and lead them well. As I always have, in this life or the next, I will be watching over you.
Love always, my Garrosh,
–Lakkara, Nagrand
Um…
<blink>
<stare>
…Mom?
Monday mailbag
Before I get to the mail, I just wanted to mention the results are in for this latest round of You Choose the Next EPIC VERSE. I’m working on the latest masterpiece now and I’m going to try to have it posted this week, so stay tuned!
Now for the letters. Just a semi-quick mailbag this week, but a couple doozies…
About a month ago A Concerned Citizen wrote in to complain about the mistreatment of a Hippogryph he had received by post. Unfortunately, I don’t think this was an isolated incident — in fact, there may be a serious problem. Last week I received a similar crate in the mail. There were postmarks from at least 20 different places and it must have been in transit for weeks. The crate was emitting a terrible stench, but I braced myself and pryed it open anyway. As I feared, the poor wyvern was long deceased, its corpse in an advanced state of decay. It was the most appalling and enraging thing I have ever had the misfortune to see first hand. I cannot imagine the suffering of that poor creature as it was shunted from one place to another.
I stood stunned for a moment in shock and horror, (and was seriously considering joining DEHTA myself), when suddenly the most amazing thing happened — I felt something nuzzle my hand. I nearly jumped out of my skin! It was then that I realised there WAS something in that crate! A ghostly wyvern stood in the box, so translucent to be nearly invisible. Thing is, despite being incorporeal he can still interact with the physical world to some extent, so he can be petted, confined to a padlock, and even ridden just like a normal wyvern! I’m not sure how this is possible, but I think it might be because the poor beast doesn’t realise he’s dead. (For instance, he still likes me to feed him wyvern chow. He doesn’t actually consume it, but he makes eating motions around it and seems satisfied afterward. To save on gold I found a bunch of kibble-shaped rocks and put those in his dish and he doesn’t seem to have noticed the difference.) It’s taking a while to get used to flying around on a mount that is, for all practical intents and purposes, invisible. However, it sure is fun to watch all the jaws dropping as I fly by!
But the reason I write you, Warchief, is that I don’t think this is an isolated incident. Over the past week I’ve seen other people seemingly flying around without a mount. It’s hard to tell for sure, but I think people all over Azeroth are receiving deceased mounts in the mail. I even think I caught a glimpse of a spectral gryphon flying past me yesterday! I’m not sure what’s going on, but if members of both the Horde and the Alliance are getting dead mounts delivered to them, perhaps there has been a severe breakdown in our postal service worldwide! I know that wyverns have a place in your heart, so I thought you might want to look into this matter and perhaps prevent the further suffering of these noble creatures.
Respectfully yours,
–Kashina.
PS: I’m attaching a photo of my poor deceased wyvern. I hope he shows up well enough on that background.
This…just…wow. I mean I know I was never on particularly good terms with old Antlers McBeardyface, but even for him, this is just…yeah, that’s just sick.
What’s just as bad is that APPARENTLY our old friend Lather-on-us up in DEHTA-land couldn’t be bothered to do anything about this, even after ACC’s original letter last month, but spirits forbid I make a passing reference to browsing in a store for a leather jacket, cause then I get a dozen granola-crunchy druids picketing outside Grommash Hold and starting letter-writing campaigns and throwing buckets of fucking blood at me.
But yeah, enough is enough with this shit. I still can’t figure out how these people got it into their heads that sending mounts in the mail was any kind of good idea, but whatever. It’s time to start cracking down. So for starters, effective immediately, I’m going to start tightening up security in all our wyvern breeding grounds. Overlord Cliffwalker’s been doing a good job clamping down on the Grimtotem up in Stonetalon, so I’ll see about him assigning some more patrols for the wyverns nests there, and I’m pretty sure we can shift some troops over to Highperch in Thousand Needles now that the Twilight’s Hammer isn’t nearly so active down there.
Meanwhile, obviously if we mean business doing something about some brainstorm sending dead wyverns and gryphons C.O.D., I figure we’re going to need a point person to coordinate things. So, consider yourself volunteered, Kashina. I’m appointing you Commissioner of Stop Being a Complete Douche-Tard. Grats. And yes, Antlers, we’re talking to you.
Recently I was doing some errands for the Violet Eye – sweeping ghosts out of the ruins of Karazhan and suchlike – when I killed a big ol’ demon and discovered he had your axe in his pockets. Do you want it back? What’s Prince Malchezaar doing with Gorehowl anyway?
Regards,
–Elder Ciaroscuro (not a Lunar Festival Elder)
Hoo boy. Here we go again.
Yeah, if you could send that back here, Ciaroscuro (and by the way that was a BASTARD to type), that would be great. There’s been some really weird magical bullshit going on with that axe for a while. I’ll try to explain what I can.
So after my father Grom killed Mannoroth, and lost his own life in the process, the explosion that burst out of Mannoroth’s body sent the axe flying and embedded the blade into the nearby rocks. It got flung into the rocks with so much force that even Mr. OMG I’M SO AWESOME LOOK AT ME Thrall apparently couldn’t pull it out, either that or it didn’t even occur to him to look around for it, either then OR when he went back to put up Grom’s memorial, because I can’t think of a third option as to why Thrall would ever FUCKING EVER come back without Grom’s axe.
Some point later, Malchezaar came to Azeroth and turned up in Demon Fall Canyon. None of the other lesser demons there had ever been able to yank to axe out of the rocks, and they generally kept their distance, seeing as having the axe that killed their head honcho right there was probably kind of creepy. But, Malchezaar figured it would be a pretty good trophy for him to pick up for that very reason, and so after some doing he managed to yank it out of the stone. Apparently, by the way, he made a big deal about the fact that he was the one that managed to pull the axe out, and how that was an omen that he was destined for greatness and to be king of the demons and what-have-you, and by the way THAT’S when he started calling himself PRINCE Malchezaar, pretentious fucker.
So anyway, he heads off to Karazhan to take up shop. Only that top level of Karazhan where he hung out was in some weird kind of pocket dimension thingy, like the very top of the tower was poking into someplace called Netherspace, sort of dipping into the Twisted Nether but not quite, or some weird shit like that. I’m not too clear on the nuts and bolts of it. But, point is, it’s this strange little pocket of time and space where…well…time and space don’t quite work the normal way. And that’s where we get into the deal with Gorehowl.
So, Malchezaar had Gorehowl, right? And at some point some Horde adventurers went in there and handed him his ass, and got Gorehowl from his body, and somehow or other it found its way back to Thrall, who gave it to me. So far so good. But every so often, the freaky bizarro zone up there kicks in, and sets off some kind of a time loop. So all of a sudden, Mechazzar is up and kicking again, and he’s got Gorehowl back on him, and what do you know, poof, wherever Gorehowl WAS, it’s not there anymore. Because it got time-loop-reset back up to Prince Fancypants up there in Karazhan.
I once tried to ask Nozdormu how this whole time loopy thing could even be possible, and he rambled on at like 90 miles an hour, and just shrugged and said “wibbly wobbly, timey whimy” and looked at me like I just asked why water was wet. So no help there.
So anyway…yeah. Every so often, the axe goes poof on me, and I end up having to send a group up to Karazhan to get it back again. Which, let me tell you, is a huge pain in the ass. I’m just dreading the day when Malchezaar’s little time loop thingy resets while I’m actually in the MIDDLE of battle somewhere, and have my damn axe vanish on me mid-swing. I have to remember to start bringing a backup, actually.
On a completely separate note, I just got my first application for the new Earth Online guild, <Warchief>. Let’s have a look at our new aspiring member…
Character Name:
£õk†årøgâr
Class and Level:
Stock Broker
Talent Spec (please discuss any unusual talent choices):
0/0/41 Execution/Advisory/Discretionary Was execution but fuck that shit u gots no power and kill nothing. vry misleading name, discertionary do it all
What do you enjoy most about your class?
money money money buy the best toys and other class beg 4 help n buffs
Previous guilds and why you left:
Scum of the Earth, guild leader give his girl all the phat lootz n she like cant play so drama killed that one
Something Wicked, kicked from this one dunno why
High Finance, cant take a fkn joke. long story.
Previous raiding experience:
yes
Any time restrictions that might affect your raid availability:
i haveto be in bed by 11
Um…okay.
Actually, no, not okay.
First of all, I’m going to try not to dwell on the crazy letters in his name, but…yeah. Look, dude, you’re really overestimating how hard I’m willing to work to contact you in-game or send you a guild invite. If I can’t just fucking TYPE your name, then the odds of me sending you a whisper or an invite or whatever drops way, way down. I don’t speak alt-code.
Also…um…
You know what, I’m not even going to try to go through point for point and break down the problems with this guy. Not even the retard leet-speak. Reading it once had made my head hurt enough as it is. So I’m just going to make an executive decision and say, oops, sorry, turns out our raids all START at 11:00, so I guess that rules us out. Good luck in your search…um…Guy Whose Asshat Name I’m Not Even Going to Try to Transliterate.
Monday mailbag
We’ve got a bunch of letters today, and there’s a definite Earth Online theme going on this week. So let’s get right to them…
This “Decision 2012” world event in EO is starting to look pretty interesting. And it looks like it’s pretty easy to participate, despite what some of the guides tell you.
It looks like the basic layout goes like this: right about now, you have local zone-wide events to pick “delegates” to a “convention”, to select a faction leader to contend for the office of “President”, which is the EO version of Warchief. Actually contending for faction leader sounds like an immense pain in the rear, but participation at the zone level isn’t all that hard. There’s a kind of back door in that the devs may not know about yet.
Now, the strategy guides will tell you that if you want to participate, you need to max out your “Politics” secondary skill, and grind rep with one of the factions. If you don’t have time for that, what you can do is look for a sub-zone with a ridiculously unbalanced faction population. Like, for instance, the “Texas” sub-zone, although I’ve heard that parts of “California” or “New York” will do just as well. Anyway, on your sub-zone’s scheduled day for the local event, you just show up at 7PM server time for the “Precinct Caucus” raid. Queue for the low-pop faction. And … you might be the only one to show up. Which means, you’ll be rocking a “Precinct Chairman” title for the rest of the world event. And, you’re guaranteed a slot at the “Senate District Convention” raid, which happens about a month later.
Beyond that, I’m not sure how it works. I’ve never been to a “State Convention” raid, or the “National Convention” either. Maybe I’ll make it that far this time around. It’ll be a few months before I know, though. I’d planned on making the “Precinct Convention” raid next week, but my sub-zone is having trouble applying the most recent “Redistricting” patch, which has thrown a wrench into things.
Still, it should be fun.
–A Concerned Citizen
It IS kind of cool how they’ve set this up, ACC, with the contenders for faction leader all squaring off with the server-wide push to gather resources to eliminate some of them before the big final match-up. Right now on my server it looks like there are a LOT of people running around crafting the Negative Ads needed to wear down the contending mini-bosses, although I kind of have to wonder if that ends up weakening whoever comes out in the end if it’s not a runaway victory. Then again I guess there are the Fundraising dailies, where some of the Negative Ad debuff can be offset by pouring money into somebody’s campaign fund. (And I thought the Shattered Sun Offensive were bad about asking for handouts – at least THEY gave you their “of the Shattered Sun” name tag for your troubles.)
Here’s the part I’m not too clear on, though – between these “primaries” and then the bigger “general election,” is every individual server going to have a different outcome as far as who the Warchief is going to be? Because it would be kind of weird story-wise if they don’t have one consistent leader across the whole game…but if it’s going to be standardized and preset, it kind of defeats the purpose of all these world events where it makes it seem like you get to have an effect on who ends up in charge.
Anyway, at least they’re having a world event like this to account for a possible change in leadership. It would kind of suck if you just logged on one day and the old leader was gone and the new leader was in place and the whole damn world had just gone topsy-turvy overnight.
Riiiiiiight… You totally disappeared because you were kidnapped and used in a bloodletting ceremony to have the spirit of Cho’gall take over your body. And also you’re Garrosh, warchief of the Horde. You seriously expect me to believe this shit?
First of all, as far as your “blog” being “proof” of your claims, do you not realize this is the internet? Anyone could start up a blog and pretend they were anybody. Oh look, I’m going to start up a blog as Elune, because I’m totally a beautiful night elf goddess! In the moooooooon!
Secondly, there’s no way Garrosh is smart enough to be able to string four words together, never mind learn touch typing and a complicated rotation in a video game. He’s an orc! Have you ever talked to one? “Me tired.” “Okie dokie.” “Something need doing?” And have you seen the size of Garrosh’s head? His brain must be half the size of a normal orc’s.
Thirdly, if you were Garrosh, which you are not, that ALONE would justify me booting your ass from the guild! Why would I ally myself with the most barbaric, disgusting, hated enemy of the Alliance? Actually, I fucking hope you ARE Garrosh so that every time I see you I can camp your corpse for ten hours to remind you who the fuck owns Azeroth. (Hint: It’s not the invading orc scum.)
And finally, I’m not even going to click your link. Do you think I’m an idiot? I don’t want any viruses or creepy porn pop-ups.
Don’t contact me again or I’ll report you for harassment.
–Manageurdeath, Guild Leader, <West Coast Avengers>
Oh this guy really really really wants this to end badly, doesn’t he?
I was in a bad enough mood about this asshat kicking me from his lame-ass guild before he turned out to be some fucking Alliance out in Theramore. And before he decided to go all personal. And racist, did I mention racist? Goddamn fucking human.
So ANYWAY, Manageurdeath – or should I say Brant Jasperbloom, herbalism trainer who I’m guessing fell back into that line of work after months of bringing Jaina flowers didn’t get him anywhere even though she’s JAINA, because I guess he’s just that much of a loser? YEAH YOU GOT THAT RIGHT. Boy it’s good thing I’m not really Garrosh, otherwise I would have a tech guy who can trace IP addresses AND an investigator based right there in Dustwallow Marsh to follow up on leads and make sure I’ve got the right guy, and he might even be a rogue to boot so he could sneak right on into town and peek in on you in person, and by the way you REALLY ought to clear out your browser history because you and I both know you sure as fuck don’t need ME to send you any creepy smut links, RIGHT?
And yeah, you go right ahead and report me for harassment – when I fucking BURN THERAMORE TO THE GROUND. Just you watch, Jasper, it’s coming sooner than you think.
Fucking hell I hate guild leaders.
Hahahahaha! You actually named your toon “Omgipwnedurface”? I thought that was a joke! XD
–Garona Halforcen.
PS: You should really move those two points from Overtime into Tenure. And your best secondary stat is Funding because then you won’t have to worry about going oom (out of money) and will be able to use upgraded versions of your lessons more often. So drop some Charisma and stack Funding — your throughput will go through the roof! Don’t you ever read the Self-Righteous Pricks forum?
Yeah, yeah, that’s my toon. One of them, anyway. I’ve also been playing around with a veterinarian alt a little.
And since when did YOU turn into the be-all expert on every other class? Come to think of it, Garona, what do YOU even play in the first place? Anyway, this shows how much you know – you’ve got your specs mixed up. The Funding secondary only does you any good if you’re speccing deep into the Sciences tree and get a Research Grant set bonus. Otherwise it’s just wasted points, because frankly if you’re going with more of a “Liberal Arts” setup for your Pedagogy aura, you’re going to be going OOM all the time no matter what. The 5% buff to your money doesn’t do much good when it’s a 5% buff on next to nothing in the first place. Why do you think we have to spend so much time farming tuna fish in the supermarket zones?
Decided i needed to go on a trip , somewhere im not going to be seen. Youve got a big list of alliance you want to see dead so i thought it was a bad idea to muddy up your head with the reason why and just let you know that it isnt important. Its important that ive had alot of time to myself to think though. Its why ive had time to catch up with some questions that have been swimming arround in my own head, problem was they were probably questions you get every week, how come your so great, How do you manage to keep inspiring the level of awe you are now and your thoughts on how to deal with a person using teeny-tiny harmless little words that might have been misunderstood to mean that they wanted someone else to be warchief, that sort of thing.
But then I read this weeks mailbag and thought that since Sylvanas had hacked your admin id see if i could ask her something before your goblin locked her out.
So here’s the question,which im going to try to word very carefully, if youve got those winged scourge things flying arround making more forsaken why arent any of their vrykul or vargul fighting for the horde too? I thought we could have been allys if they didnt like eating our hearts or painting their faces with our blood so much but since you look like everything these guys look up to and even have their judges arround to..judge them.
–Notzenke, Who is not hiding in the vault of archevon.
Okay, first of all, somebody needs to get Notzenke here a proofreader, like, yesterday.
Second of all, though, this is kind of a good point. With the Lich King dead, that should free up a whole lot of Scourge up in Northrend – how did Sylvanas put it that time? “Found themselves unemployed”? And say what you want about Sylvanas, but she’s definitely got enough charisma to get those stray Scourge onto our side. Obviously it worked out with the val’kyr, so I don’t know why she couldn’t do the same thing with the vargul or for that matter even all the zombies and geists and abominations. The funny thing is, it’s not even like all those Scourge have been running around loose since the Lich King’s been dead. I don’t know if they just don’t know what to do with themselves now, or if there’s something else going on, but you would think they’d be primed for somebody like Sylvanas to come along and snap them up.
Third, proofreader. Seriously. There were parts of that letter where I was like “Is this a paragraph or did he just shake his dictionary over his keyboard really hard and these are the words that fell out?”
More importantly, though, Sylvanas is not still poking around the blog. I had Spazzle crack down on blog security so everything is under lock again. Problem solved.
Lady Sylvanas,
Are you reading the Warchief’s mail too? Because, uh, that one about you and me and him in the gnomish bubble bath was, um, meant to be taken in an artistic context. As a writer to a poet.
And those “special” wands are only available to a very select clientele…
Yours,
–Quelama Lightblade
Yup, these are my readers…
I’m not even going to touch the bubble bath thing, seeing as those e-mails go right into the same spam folder as the links from random succubus web sites and fake letters from Tolvir princes offering to pay me a fortune to help them sneak money into an account in Kalimdor and oh by the way all it will take is a small deposit up front on my part. But really, you guys have got to calm down. Sylvanas is not still screwing around with the blog, she’s not in my e-mail, you can all stop being so frigging paranoid. Like I said, Spazzle has already handled that shit, so we shouldn’t be having any more trouble. Everybody just needs to chill the fuck out and stop being a bunch of Chicken Littles. The sky is not fucking falling, okay?
Or so our dear Warchief would think. Spazzle, shmazzle. Never underestimate the power of a woman on the internet. ~_^
Monday mailbag
Well it looks like we’re finally back to mail that’s just for ME, now that the bottomless pile of Saurfang fan mail is out of the way. So, let’s get right to it…
This is an open letter to the Archdruids Malfurion Stormrage and Lathorius. It involves the former’s recent mistreatment of a Flameward Hippogryph.
I don’t really have a “day job” as such. I do odd jobs for people like the Dragonmaw Clan, the Protectors of Hyjal, and I’m good enough to earn a fairly decent living at it. Lately, that’s involved a fair bit of time on the Molten Front. Archdruid Stormrage recently saw fit to reward my service with a gift of sorts. Anyway, I get home to my Silvermoon pad one day, and there’s a package waiting for me. I said “package”, it was actually more like a crate, with air holes in it. The postmarks read, “Mount Hyjal”, then “Darnassus”, then “Ratchet”, then “Booty Bay”, and finally, “Silvermoon”. Goblin Post, Fourth Rate. It was at this point that I noticed a whimpering coming from inside the crate.
Now, this is going to sound damned odd coming from a man who joined up with the Blood Knights back when the first lesson on the syllabus was “How To Punch A Captive Naaru In The Jumblies”, but…
Stormrage, you sick bastard, WHAT THE HELL, MAN?!? What on Azeroth possessed you to decide that this was a good idea? Surely, you could have sent it Express. Or, you probably know a mage or two. Or, left a note that I could pick him up next time I was over by Nordrassil. But Goblin Post? Fourth Rate? That’s just WRONG.
Then again, I have no idea why I’m surprised. What else would you expect of a man who’d stand by examining his fingernails while forty Horde raiders curb-stomp his wife?
For what it’s worth, Ted’s doing great. (I named him for Tederastrasz, a dragon I met over in Twilight Highlands.) I don’t normally like to ride animals. I usually prefer the throaty roar of a pair of Yoyodyne-Gadgetzan turboprops and the rhythmic thump of a well-balanced rotor shaft. And the occasional autorotative descent into hostile territory? Just part of the spice that makes life worth living. But now I feel obliged to take Ted out for as much fresh air and sunshine as possible, and I have to say, I’m growing fond of his company. He still flinches a bit when he sees a crate, but he’s just about gotten over that.
Anyway, Lathorius? Your shan’do Stormrage could use a stern talking-to.
–A Concerned Citizen
Good to hear from you as always, ACC. Gotta say, that really is pretty sick, not to mention pretty surprising, considering how old Antlers McBeardyface likes to play himself up as like Grand Master Nature Boy Ultra. I mean, listen, I’m not going to lie to you. It’s no secret that I’m not above a little tough love when it comes to Horde mounts, for purposes of promoting discipline and the kind of toughness that the military life calls for. But I can also tell you, in no uncertain terms, every one of our worgs, kodos, wyverns, whatever, gets three squares a day, plenty of water, and at least enough room to stretch its legs and move around some. Not to mention that when they finally come up for retirement, they get an enormous feast before we slice them up into chops.
But yeah, taking an animal like that and shipping it around by slow mail in a crate? That’s just sick. Especially when you consider how much care those goblins DON’T take to observe the “Handle With Care” labels. Dude, you should have SEEN the shape my Champions of the Horde commemorative plates were in by the time they got to me, and those were even shipped THIRD class. I’m still looking for all the pieces of Rexxar. I don’t even want to THINK of what the fourth rate treatment would be.
Hopefully Lather-on-us will get right on this. He’d BETTER, actually, considering how quick he always is to get on my ass for something way less than this. All I’m gonna say is if he lets this thing slide with Antlers, I better not be getting another protest in my front yard the next time I order the veal.
Personally, if it were ME, I’d probably suggest keeping an eye on old Antlers until the next time he goes More Than Meets the Eye into one of his kajillion animal forms, then throw a net on him, shuffle him off into a nice tight crate, then ship him Super Slow Take Your Effing Time rate to his priestess chick. (Bonus points if she’s not able to sign for the package because she’s too busy getting curb-stomped at the time.)
Anyway, ACC, I’m glad you’re having a good time with Ted. Rescue mounts can have their quirks, no question about it, but over time it does get better, once they’ve had time to realize that they’re safe now. And remember, yeah, those roflcopters are cool and all, but a roflcopter can’t love.
By the same token, a roflcopter can’t get explosive diarrhea all over your new monogrammted sheets that your Greatmother sent you for your birthday. But life’s all about trade-offs, right?
Being that you are easier to contact than your predecessor, I thought this an appropriate time to place my thoughts, as it were, upon your plate. In particular, I wish to discuss your support for our efforts in Silithus.
While I realise that Kalimdor is a large continent and that Silithus is perhaps the most inhospitable and inaccessible area thereon, it remains a hotbed of activity for the Twilight’s Hammer cult. You yourself have seen this most recently, and I have had it impressed upon me that your recent requests for the stepping up of border patrols are vital to your present plans to deal with the Hammer. And so my druids and I will do all that we can, but… we are stretched thin.
In the time since the defeat of C’Thun, the flow of adventurers to this barren land has slowed to a trickle, and yet the Hammer becomes ever heavier, poised above these shifting sands. Why, I recently discovered that visitors to my command have of late been greeted by a representative of the Horde, who offers free magical transportation in order that your supporters might fight in some meaningless skirmish in a swamp on the other side of the world! Why can this service not be provided in order to send more aid to us in our time of need?
The sands of Silithus have seen much, but they are unique in Azeroth and still have much to offer to the brave. With the Cenarion druids largely occupied by certain troubles in Hyjal, I cannot even request aid from them. I am honour-bound to this post, and cannot abandon it. I am told that you value honour deeply. Will you then aid us?
–Commander Mar’alith, Silithus
Hey, Mar’alith, good to hear from you again. Also thanks for your help keeping the Twilight’s Hammer contained recently.
From the looks of it, your letter actually came in right about the same time I went out of commission for a little while, so hopefully in the intervening time things have gotten a little better. From what Saurfang tells me, while he was minding the shop, he came by with a few thousand friends and did a fair bit of Twilight smacking, so hopefully that put a dent in the problem. Still, I know those cultists can be like roaches – no matter how many you kill, there always seems to be tons more of them. (And you know, you wouldn’t really expect there to be THAT many crazy despairing suicidal lunatics ready to sign on to help destroy the world, would you? I mean, even if you assume the cult has a frigging amazing recruiting division, would you really figure they’d be able to drum up thousands upon thousands of these people like they do? Kind of makes you wonder about the world’s collective parenting skills, that we’ve got THAT many people turning out THAT damaged.)
I’ll try to do what I can for you, Mar’alith. As it stands, I put an announcement on all the command boards in Orgrimmar and Thunder Bluff encouraging adventurers to head your way and help out, but apparently that hasn’t been having much of an effect. I’ll double check the boards to make sure the notices are visible enough – with my luck, the announcements got covered by someone’s ad for a futon for sale or guitar lessons or something, with the little straggly rip-off pieces at the bottom with the contact info.
Thing is, though, I’m not sure there’s a whole lot we can do to get people to head down to Silithus voluntarily. Sure, there’s the portal transport thing you mentioned, but when you come right down to it, it’s not like getting to Silithus is much more of a nuisance than traveling to Tanaris or Un’goro Crater or, hell, even Felwood. I’m not going to lie to you, Mar’alith, your place down there is just plain creepy. Lots of people get a bad case of the skitters just running a few errands around the Writhing Deep or the Slithering Scar – and Silithus is like one giant Slithering Scar turned up to eleven. People go there and then spend the next two weeks scratching because they keep imagining things crawling on them. Combine that with the fact that, let’s face it, it’s not exactly a treat for the eyes down there either, and come on…how many people do you really think we’re going to get down there rather than, say, walking in a Winterspring wonderland? I mean, hell, by the time most of our adventurers are strong enough to be much help to you down there, they’re usually all fired up to push righ on past Silithus and head out to Thrallmar in Outland. Seriously, have you ever BEEN to Hellfire Peninsula? Do you really understand the magnitude of people basically being like “Yay, Hellfire Peninsula!” rather than sticking around Silithus?
I’m open to ideas, but I’m thinking that pot’s going to have to be WAY sweeter before we see a whole lot of improvement…
Can anybody be explainin’ what “Dranosh” means?
–Bob, Echo Isles
No no no no, dude, you’ve gotta know better than to ask about that shit, all you’re going to do is open up a—
If you will pardon the interruption, Warchief, I believe I can field this inquiry. I suspect our elocutionarily eccentric correspondent is asking about the roots of the name of my dear, departed son.
Oh fuck, here we go. Again.
If you will allow me. Ahem.
We named him Dranosh. It means “Heart of Draenor” in orcish.
Okay, well that answers that question. Thanks for clearing that up, Saurfang, now we can—
I would not let the warlocks take him. My boy would be safe, hidden away by the elders of Garadar.
I made a promise to his mother before she died; that I would cross the Dark Portal alone – whether I lived or died, my son would be safe. Untainted…
Yeah, okay, terrific, that worked out just fantastic for all involved. Hey, hang on a second, how did you even get in here anyway? The fuck is this? You said when you gave the keys back you were just going to head back up to Northrend and not interfere with the goings-on back here with me.
Today, I fulfill that promise.
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE. But I’m serious, how the hell are you even doing this? SPAZZLE!
Yeah, chief? What’s up?
I’ll TELL you what’s up, tech guy – Saurfang’s in here screwing around with the blog. I thought you had some kind of fucking security on this shit.
Huh, that’s weird. I’m not sure how he’d be able to—
I meant no offense, Warchief. It merely seemed the inquiry lent itself to an account of my own personal experience, and I felt as such it might be a boon to you…
Yes, Garrosh, he was only trying to help.
Hang on, wait a minute, who the fuck is THIS now?
Do you not recognize me, Warchief? You wound me. Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, at your service as always.
SYLVANAS?!
A pleasure to see you again, Dark Lady.
Hold on, you know her now?
And you as well, High Overlord. Congratulations once again on your successful albeit short-lived stewardship of the Horde. I was most gratified that the other Horde leaders were so quick to agree with my suggestion that you would be an ideal interim Warchief.
As I am gratified by the faith you all showed in me, Dark Lady.
Where do you know HER from?
Do you not recall, Warchief? I too served in Northrend during our triumphant campaign against the Lich King. I had occasion to meet Overlord Saurfang in the late stages of our campaign.
Ohhh, that’s right, you WERE up there, weren’t you? See, I forgot about that, seeing as Saurfang and I were spending most of our time on the whole successfully-taking-down-Arthas operation, as opposed to how you were mostly concentrating on the sneak-in-the-side-door-then-run-from-Arthas-like-a-little-girl wing.
Again you wound me, Warchief.
And hold on, how the fuck are YOU in here too?
In the blog? I hacked admin.
You what now?
You what now?
That’s what I said, only less green.
Just as I said. I hacked admin. ^_^
Oh man, hold on, I need to go check the IP’s again…
You hacked your way onto the blog? The fuck?
I’m not sure why you should be so shocked, Warchief. I’ve done this many times before. Not on your blog specifically, of course, but…
Haha, this is awesome.
Oh for FUCK’s sake, who’s THIS now?
What, you don’t recognize me either, filthy orc?
Oh crap, I can tell this is going to mean all kinds of overtime. I was just getting my rotation down on Earth Online, too…
WHO IS THIS?
Varian Wrynn, King of Stormwind, you brainless half-wit!
OMG WTF
Yeaahhh, this is gonna mean a whole big system overhaul… So much for me trying to save some money on firewalls…
You seriously think I don’t keep an eye on you and your Horde devils?
Fuck you, Varian.
Indeed, Dark Lady!
Stay out of this, witch!
Wait, what? I didn’t say that.
Who did, then?
That was me.
Why was it purple, then? I’m using the purple.
For fuck’s sake, do you not READ the blog?
He’s got a point there.
My text ALWAYS goes purple when I say “Fuck you, Varian.” SEE? It’s like a running thing, I’ve been doing it for months!
But I’m using the purple now. It’s my color. Would it have been so bad not to use purple just this once, for the sake of not confusing people needlessly?
Hold on, are you actually bitching that my choice of text color isn’t showing adequate consideration FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ARE SOMEHOW HACKING THEIR WAY INTO MY BLOG EDITOR?
He’s kind of got you there, too.
Not the editor. I hacked admin. We’ve been over this.
I seriously never get tired of watching you vile creatures fight amongst yourselves.
You would be wise to watch yourself, King Varian.
I would expect at least a little courtesy from you, Saurfang, from one father to another.
I have already addressed this with you, Highness. I will not stand by while the Horde is insulted, however much I may appreciate the kindness you once showed to me over my son.
Dranosh, wasn’t it?
Indeed.
Is that a family name or something?
OH FUCK NOT AGAIN
Not as such. It means “Heart of Draenor” in orcish.
Ask him about the warlocks.
WHOSE FUCKING SIDE ARE YOU ON?!
What about the warlocks?
DAMMIT SYLVANAS!
I would not let the warlocks take him. My boy would be safe, hidden away by the elders of Garadar.
WE’VE ALREADY BEEN THROUGH THIS LIKE EIGHT TIMES
Apologies, Warchief, but…it’s just so easy!
Still not as easy as everybody on the whole fucking internet breaking into my BLOG, though, apparently!
I know, I know, I’m already changing my sign-up status for the alt raid this weekend… <sigh>
Look at it this way, Saurfang: your son died honorably for an honorable cause, far better than most of your kind. At least this way he can be spared a far worse end when your empire of villainy falls to the Alliance.
Also, I like to talk really tough because I think that way no one will suspect what a small penis I have.
Oh and I have trouble getting it up ever since Benedictus bad-touched me in the confessional booth when I was an altar boy.
WHAT THE HELL I DIDN’T SAY THAT
It certainly looks like you did. <guffaw>
I have it on fairly good authority that’s a true story, too.
I DID NOT SAY ANY SUCH THING YOU DEVILS!
Oh did I mention how I couldn’t perform at all until Tiffy-Wiffy took me home and played dress-up for me?
OMG YOU LEAVE TIFFIN OUT OF THIS!!!
<giggle>
Oh hey YOU’RE making him say that?
You are? How, Dark Lady?
Admin. ^_^
SEE? SEE? I’VE ALWAYS SAID YOU HORDE ARE EVIL!
Behind closed doors I like to wear dresses!
DAMN YOU, SYLVANAS! THE HELL WITH YOU ALL, I’M LOGGING OFF!
Hee! ^_^
Okay, you know what, that was totally worth it.
Indeed it was an amusing diversion, albeit immature; but I suppose you young folk need find your pleasures in your own way. And with that, Warchief, I believe I shall take my leave.
From the blog you mysteriously popped into through some means I still don’t know what the fuck they were? Yeah, okay.
A good day to you, Warchief. Honor go with us all.
Gotta admit, much as I’m still pretty pissed that you were able to hack in here so easily like that—
I know, I know, I’m clearing out next week too…
—what you did to Varian there was pretty awesome. You might not be so bad after all, Sylvanas.
Thank you, dear Warchief. While I’m here, incidentally, might we take a moment to review my concerns about the conduct of Captain Bloodfist?
Not right now, Sylvanas. It’s been a long day, okay? We can get into it another time soon.
As you wish, Warchief. In that case, I’ll leave you to your mailbag and return to my work here in the Undercity.
Yeah, you do that, Sylvanas. Luckily, that was the last letter for this week, and it’s probably a good thing too, since I don’t know if I’m in a mood to deal with any more weirdness in one day. So I think it’s time to wrap this up for today. I’ll post again soon, everyone.
Also don’t forget I don’t really have the faintest idea what I’m doing, and the Horde probably would have been better off staying under Saurfang. But at least I’m easily influenced.
~_^
Monday mailbag
Okay, so finally I can get to normal business like answering my reader mail! As a matter of fact, there’s a TON of it that’s piled up while I was away, so it’s probably going to take some doing to get through it all. So here we go…
I look forward to Garrosh’s speedy return. This is a continuation of an earlier question our esteemed Warchief answered for me, that I have discovered new information about.
To recap: I was confused about the use of flags to mark supply drops in Ashenvale, and the capture thereof to interfere with enemy resupply. Originally, my question was how this behavior had spread to the Dragonmaw as well. Recently, I had the opportunity to put the question to a Dragonmaw quartermaster … and the answer is head-slappingly obvious in hindsight.
Twilight Highlands is nowhere near as congested as Ashenvale. But, it is ABSOLUTELY ankle-breaker country. You’re not getting anything in by land. At least, not without losing a lot if it to ambush.
So, yeah. Stealing the enemy’s flags makes excellent sense here, too.
And best wishes for our Warchief’s return to duty. If there is anything this Blood Knight can do to assist, I can be found at the Wayfarer’s Rest in Silvermoon, when I’m not on-call with the Horde Medical Corps.
–A Concerned Citizen
Huh. Okay, I guess this one was a leftover letter for Saurfang from when he was minding the shop.
Anyway, though, ACC, good to hear from you again. And yeah, I guess it makes sense that the Dragonmaw would be adopting the same flag-marking methods that we were originally using in Warsong Gulch. I’m actually kind of relieved that there’s some sense behind what they’re doing, considering how lately the Dragonmaw have been…um…kind of shaky in terms of how on top of things they seem to be.
Don’t get me wrong, I like Zaela and all. She’s a good warrior. But you know, there’s a difference between being a good warrior and being a good person to have in charge of things, you know? And like, with Zaela, sheesh. Not the brightest bulb. If there’s a big fight coming, sure thing, I want her fighting on my side. But if there’s something going on that requires you to have your wits about you, or able to wrap your brain around something bigger than “me see, me smash”? Yeah, not so much.
Greetings again, Your Warchieferousness!
Thank you for your reply re: the housing issue in Orgrimmar. It’s unfortunate that you can’t solve this issue with the same speed with which former acting Warchief Hellscream created it, by unilateral fiat – but then I suppose if he had bothered to investigate before spewing his frankly racist edict we wouldn’t have this problem, would we? I shall, as suggested, look into Razor Hill in the interim.
With regards to to baking, I’m afraid my skills in that area of cooking extend little past spice bread and tasty cupcakes – like many self-employed aggressive problem solvers, my culinary skills revolve around making use of things I slaughter horribly on my travels. Also, as a Knight of the Ebon Blade I bear the “blessing” of the Lich King in the form of an unfortunate addiction to causing pain and suffering … there are ways and means to alleviate it, but you may wish to avoid my cooking.
Regarding the issue of pseudonyms, I think I’ll pass – every second Death Knight Arthas raised during the Battle for Light’s Hope decided that being Joe Smith, formerly of Goldshire, was not sufficiently “grimdark” enough for a soldier in the Lich King’s service, and changed his name to “Darkreaper of the Nightfall” or something similarly pretentious and absurd. Some of them, seeking to emphasize their existence as agents of the Lich King’s will, changed their names to “Arthas”! Not that they can spell it, mind. I suspect the Lich King left them too long before he raised them.
(Koltira “Deathweaver”? Used to be Koltira Twillweaver, of Goldenmist Village. Though he was a pretentious ass then, too.)
Yours,
–Twilight Vanquisher Aimee
Knight of the Ebon Blade (still not the cake vendor)
Still the Goblin Frickin’ Slums
The FUCK is this?! Okay so this is another one for Saurfang I guess, I get that, fine, makes sense he’d have some follow-up mail from the last few weeks…but DUDE! How much hate mail was he GETTING about me?! Frankly racist edict by unilateral fiat WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!!
But ANYWAY, as far as YOU go, Aimee (OH NO, look out, AIMEE is pissed at me – watch out or she might write an angsty mid-tempo acoustic guitar ballad about me and take me down a few pegs with her bitter understated irony!), you go right on ahead and find yourself a nice comfy place down in Razor Hill. Keep an eye on the kids down there while you’re at it, that should be a job you can stay on top of no problem. In the meantime we orcs and tauren will take care of the real job of defending Orgrimmar, Corpsey McBoneyknees.
Anyway, there’s got to be some mail in here somewhere that’s actually for ME…
Just thought you should know you’ve been kicked from the guild. You should have been trying to make a good impression if you wanted to pass your trial, but you haven’t given us any reason to keep you. You didn’t show up for two raids you signed up for and you haven’t logged on for, like, weeks. It’s really inconsiderate to just disappear without warning and leave us hanging like that. Would have been nice for you to at least drop us a note before you vanished.
Good luck finding a new guild,
–Manageurdeath
Guild Leader
<West Coast Avengers>
…
…
THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!?!
Okay, okay, so for anyone who’s not connecting the dots yet – this guy is my guild leader (or, well, he WAS my guild leader) from the Earth Online guild I just joined. Well, the guild I just joined as of like a month ago, right before the whole Alcaz Island deal. I haven’t logged on since I’ve been back, what with me being a little busy PUTTING MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER, but APPARENTLY I’ve just been kicked out of the guild!
Because yeah, you know what, you’re right, Manageurdeath, that was really inconsiderate for me not to give you guys a heads up that I was going to be away a few weeks DUE TO BEING FUCKING KIDNAPPED! Oh wait, did I mention the part where I was dragged to a Twilight’s Hammer stronghold where I was going to be used in a fucking BLOODLETTING CEREMONY to have the FUCKING SPIRIT OF CHO’GALL BURN OUT MY SOUL AND TAKE UP RESIDENCE IN MY FUCKING BODY? Did I mention that part??
You’re right, dude, I TOTALLY should have cleared this with you to make sure it would be adequate justification for me missing out on the fucking Board of Directors raid we had scheduled!
HOLY FUCKING FUCK’S SAKE.
Actually, you know what, hold on. I need to find Spazzle for a second. You guys hold tight for a minute. Here, funny video to kill some time while I’m doing this:
OKAY, so I just tracked down Spazzle and had him trace that e-mail from the guild guy to find out where this fucker is from. I was expecting him to be from someplace way out in the middle of nowhere, where he’s got nothing to do but play this game and think he’s all hot shit for being the guild leader, because for fuck’s sake guild leaders always seem so fucking full of themselves, but anyway, check THIS out – turns out this guy is logging on from Theramore.
FUCKING THERAMORE.
The guild I was in was being run by some goddamn fucking ALLIANCE, and not even an Alliance from someplace fucking IMPORTANT, no, run by an Alliance stuck out in the run-down town out in the middle of the fucking swamp where there’s nothing for those assholes to do but bang Jaina all day, only THIS fucker doesn’t even seem to be able to pull THAT off seeing as he’s fucking logged onto the game 37 hours a day!
So you know what, I’ll tell you this, Manageurdeath, I don’t know who you are exactly, but I’m going to fucking find out, and WHOEVER you are, mark my words, you have fucked with the WRONG ORC. Enjoy your little podunk swamp town while you can, because I’m telling you right now, somehow, someday, I am going to open up such a can of fucking DISASTER on that place, you and all your little Jainabanging friends aren’t going to know what even fucking HIT you. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
UGH. Okay, so there’s still a pretty big pile of mail, but I’m in NO mood to deal with any more of this shit today, so I promise I’ll answer as much of it as I can next Monday. In the meantime, keep it coming. I’ll talk to you all later when I’m not dreaming dreams of ruins in the fucking swamp.
UGH!!!
Monday, once again, Mailbag
Citizens of the Horde,
It is time once again for me to respond to the various and sundry missives that have found their way to me since last week. This time I seem to drawn the attention of some unlikely writers indeed…
Salutations and greetings under the Infinitely Holy Light, Varok Saurfang! It is my hope that, with the recent change in leadership in Orgrimmar, peace talks can at some point resume. I write to you regarding a terrible danger the seers of the Exodar have seen growing in the heart of the Horde. I speak not of the abominable Banshee Queen or the legions of unholy warlocks infesting your cities, but of a force very close to the center of the Horde – the (currently missing) Garrosh Hellscream. Have you seen him lately? Before he went missing, I mean. He looks rather terribly like a Fel Orc; I fear he has been suckling at the same festering hellteats from which his father supped. Please, if you know it, tell me the identity of the Pit Lord whose blood he has been drinking! The destruction of Hellscream’s demonic master will (once again) liberate the Horde from servitude in the Legion, to the great good of life throughout the Universe.
The Naaru have not forgotten you!
–Eliseth the Argent Champion, The Exodar, Azuremyst Isle
Firstly, having spent considerable time with Warchief Hellscream in Northrend, and being very much aware of his busy schedule since his move to Durotar, I can attest that no such transgressions have taken place as the drinking of demon blood. Moreover, good Eliseth, I am troubled by your willingness to jump to conclusions based solely on the Warchief’s appearance; his skin tone is well within the range of hues common to Mag’har orcs, particularly those who suffered from the red pox in their youth, and if your comment is in some way a reference to the Warchief’s (well-publicized) cranial idiosyncrasies, I believe Warchief Hellscream himself has addressed this matter on at least one occasion.
Rest assured, therefore, that there is no demonic influence at the heart of the Horde, and, by extension, you need not worry that the Burning Legion has set its eyes once again on Azeroth. Should the Legion indeed move against this world, you may further take comfort that we orcs will be ready to stand against them in defense of our home, and in so doing will almost certainly provide you and your eredar kin with ample time to pack. There are, I am sure, plenty of other worlds to which you might relocate while the rest of the “Universe” about which you clearly care so much undertakes to clean up after you.
Congratulations on your elevation to leadership of the Horde. I’m sure your peons are thrilled to have a competent commander grinding their faces into the mud of Durotar. I’m writing to inquire about a specific aspect of foreign policy instituted under the (hopefully) late and unlamented Warchief Hellscream (may his body never be found); specifically, his declaration that “all Kalimdor belongs to the Horde”. This claim is idiotic, unenforceable, and will serve only to utterly repudiate any overtures of peace you may wish to make. I advise you to rescind this edict, and withdraw back past the Southfury where you belong. Or preferably, all the way back to Draenor. Get off our planet, alien scum!
Sincerely,
–Sepharad of the Nightfall
Watcher
Darnassus, Teldrassil
Kalimdor (seriously, it belongs to the Kaldorei)
Azeroth (not your homeworld)
Greetings, Sepharad. If you will indulge my pedantry for a moment, I would like to elucidate a few linguistic and rhetorical points that you may find beneficial in future endeavors.
Specifically, there is a concept in argument generally referred to as “ethical appeal.” This notion, contrary to what might be suggested by its nomenclature, does not hinge on one’s “ethical” or moral goodness, but rather on the manifest ethos, or identity, which one presents in one’s interactions. Thus, for instance, one who presents oneself as gracious and even-handed is likely to prove more persuasive than one who conveys a persona of rudeness and closed-mindedness, by virtue of their relative ethical appeal.
With this in mind, I might suggest in future missives, should you wish to urge policy change from your reader, you may do well not to open, for instance, by insinuating derision for your reader’s entire society and its adopted home; or by openly hoping for the demise of individuals about whose safety you know your readers to be sincerely concerned; or by levying thinly veiled threats, employing racial slurs, or expressing outright hostility toward your audience. (I would also note, if you truly take such offense at “alien scum” taking up residence on other worlds, you may wish to craft an additional letter to Prophet Velen of your allies the draenei, as his people, if we are to carry out a cursory review of history, have developed something of a pattern of behavior along these lines.)
These are basic concepts of rhetoric, and it saddens me that such an ancient and storied culture as that of the night elves would apparently fail to properly educate its watchers. Lacking a compelling argument in its support, therefore, I feel I must decline your policy recommendation.
[If at first you don’t succeed, you clearly aren’t Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
With that said, if you will pardon me, a chill has begun to drift into the room, so I believe I shall go now to add a log or two of Ashenvale lumber to the fireplace.
What’s up? Even though we goblins in Ratchet try to keep ourselves neutral to this whole Horde/Alliance thing, I do try to keep an eye on what’s going on in the major cities – especially since I have a few cousins in the Bilgewater Cartel living with you guys in Orgrimmar now. I noticed your post the other day about Garrosh’s wyvern getting loose, and I thought you’d be want to know about a weird moment we had here on the docks yesterday. I was hanging around here on the dock, minding my own business, when lo and behold a wyvern flies in and lands just a few yards away, and just sits around by the end of the dock. He wasn’t doing anything, not really even taking notice of anyone, just sitting there. The after a while, one of our ships came in from Booty Bay. The wyvern up and strolled onto the boat, sat himself back down, and just stayed there until the ship headed back out again.
Now, I don’t know if this was Garrosh’s wyvern. I don’t know what his wyvern looks like, other than, you know, looking like a wyvern, and I can’t say I could really tell one wyvern from another anyway. But I thought you might want to know about this.
–Wharfmaster Dizzywig, Ratchet
My thanks to you, Wharfmaster. This is interesting news indeed. While we cannot be certain that the wyvern you describe is the Warchief’s, its behavior certainly appears peculiar enough to merit investigation. I will notify our officers in Stranglethorn Vale of this development, and expand our scouting patrols to that region.
Greetings, Your Warchieferousness! I hope you’re having an absolutely splendid day. I am not having an absolutely splendid day because I keep bumping my head on the doorways here in the goblin slums. I may be the cutest undead killing machine ever to rise from the battlefields of the Third War, but terrible necromantic power has no effect on goblin architecture. Could you possibly see your way clear to annulling former acting Warchief Hellscream’s edict that all races “not strong enough” to defend Orgrimmar (anyone not a tauren or orc, in Hellscream’s piggy little eyes) be banished from the city? I am an implacable harbinger of icy death, and I’m worth at least two tauren anywhere outside a goblin barbeque. I know no fear! I know no pain! I am totally strong enough to defend Orgrimmar. I want my house back.
Yours,
–Twilight Vanquisher Aimee (Knight of the Ebon Blade, not the cake vendor), Frickin’ Goblin Slums
A pity, Aimee, that you aren’t the Aimee I recall from Northrend. Many were the evenings that I enjoyed one of her selections with my nightly Mok’nathal tea. I recall her red velvet cake was especially sumptuous. You might consider, in fact, looking into baking as a sideline, as I am sure you will find a great many fans should you demonstrate mastery in it; moreover, we find ourselves recently understaffed in Orgrimmar in the area of infantry cooks, so you may well find it a worthwhile avenue for career advancement.
Speaking of which, in a roundabout way, as you are a current resident of the goblin slums, how is the rice situation coming along? Markedly improved, I would hope.
At any rate, I realize that you are not the Aimee of cakery fame, though, again, I would urge you to consider my thoughts on the matter. Still, you certainly share a name of delicious connotation. (Have you considered adopting a pseudonym for combat purposes, incidentally? Though I do not doubt your martial prowess, I am unsure that “Aimee” strikes adequate fear into the hearts of your foes. Compare: “Run! Saurfang just cleaved the heads off of the general and his squire!” “Run! Aimee is accessorizing her Lovely Pink Dress!”)
Where were we again? You will pardon an old man for his tangents. Ah yes, the goblin slums.
Redistricting is indeed always a controversial issue, Aimee. I will endeavor to look into the matter, though the allocation of housing space in a high-demand, high-population area such as Orgrimmar is always precarious at best. In the interim, have you considered investigating real estate options in nearby Razor Hill? I am told suburban areas within easy commuting distance of the major urban centers often offer surprisingly reasonable rental costs. (I would suggest Bilgewater Harbor as another nearby option, but I believe you have clearly established your feelings on goblin neighborhoods.) Or, if you feel your happiness truly depends on residing in the city proper, perhaps the troll architecture of a few blocks north of you would be more suitable?
I will grant I am hardly a real estate expert – many years have passed since I paid off my mortgage on the old Nagrand split-level, and being as I am career military, I have myself always moved from one assigned quarters to the next – but I will attempt to look into matters further to see if anything can be done.
That is all the mail I have time to attend to his week; as always I thank you for your correspondence. I will, of course, continue to keep you posted on our unfolding operations, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang
Monday, so I am told, Mailbag
Citizens of the Horde,
I am an orc of my word; some days ago I invited you to write to me with your thoughts and inquiries, and promised I would answer them as is customary in this space. Today I fulfill that promise.
I write to you from our outpost in Silithus, as I prepare to begin our movement into Ahn’Qiraj. Perhaps this exercise will be helpful in clearing my thoughts before the coming battle. Let us begin.
Have you read any good books lately?
–Tarrful, Orgrimmar
Sadly, my hectic schedule as acting Warchief does not allow me the leisure time to pursue recreational reading. Fortunately, I do make a point of conducting regular briefing sessions to ensure I am kept abreast of important and relevant information, to ensure that the absence of reading time has not caused me to miss something of import.
[Saurfang doesn’t read books. He stares them down until they give him the information he wants. –Mkvr., ed.]
Do you play Earth Online too? If so, what server are you on? What class do you play?
–Kalaban, Undercity
I’m afraid I don’t know what this “Earth Online” is that you speak of. By context, I would surmise it is some sort of diversion or recreational activity involving the internet. Sadly, my schedule already calls for me to spend too much time safeguarding the future of the Horde and saving the world from annihilation for me to invest much leisure time in such matters. Also, I am an adult.
If Thrall and Garrosh ever finished that duel they started back before the Northrend campaign, who do you think would win?
–Kulkesh, Razor Hill
I could not even venture a guess as to the outcome of a battle between two such mighty combatants; and moreover, I can only hope that such a wasteful conflict might never occur.
[If Thrall ever dueled Garrosh to completion, the winner would be Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
I must say, I was expecting these inquiries to revolve around matters of greater weight and import. Nevertheless, we carry on.
When the orcs began dabbling in necromancy, did you ever consider becoming a Warlock? I know you’re a pretty badass Warrior and all, but did you ever think it might be fun to have demon minions and dot people up?
–Davan Shadowspring, Silvermoon City
There was never a point when I was tempted to indulge in the fel magics of the warlocks. Indeed, I suspected even then that no good would come of my people’s dabbling in shadow magic. Moreover, I fail even to see the appeal of such practices; I find it much more honorable and rewarding to confront my enemy face-to-face in combat and best him hand-to-hand, rather than standing at a distance and resorting to trickery. There is a certain gravity and satisfaction to be found in feeling the weight and heft of a solid, reliable blade in one’s hands. And besides, I can assure you, if one is sufficiently proficient in the martial arts, one does not need a precarious spell to make one’s foes flee in fear.
[Damn, Saurfang almost beat me to the punch on this one: Every time a warlock makes someone run away in fear, he pays a royalty to Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
I’m glad to see someone in charge again in Orgrimmar who’s at least somewhat respectable. I would wish you well in your efforts, except that in this case that would probably entail you actually finding Garrosh, and honestly that would end up leading to more trouble than it would be worth. So, here’s wishing you a mixed bag that keeps you in your current position for a while.
–King Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
P.S. Sorry to hear your men were stuck in those underground tunnels on Alcaz Island. Those things are creepy as hell. For years, I had these bizarre recurring nightmares that I was stuck down there, and barely even knew myself. Freaky stuff…
While I remain thankful to you, King Varian, for the kindness you showed me in light of the loss of my son, I nevertheless cannot let such denigrations against our Warchief go unanswered. I may remind you, however much good will may exist between you and I personally, I am first and foremost unwaveringly loyal to the Horde, and Warchief Hellscream is its rightful leader. I am myself, indeed, merely a part of which the Horde is a larger whole; and you may no more speak ill of our leader with impunity from me than you might strike one’s face and not expect the hand to respond in kind. And so, as Warchief Hellscream might comment in his own inimitable manner, I would take this occasion to invite you, King Varian, to engage in an act of self-copulation.
If da Lich King’s horse be Invincible, how come I be seein’ it?
–Bob, Echo Isles
Vol’jin, I don’t know what it is that you’re trying to accomplish, or why you’ve chosen to adopt this puerile façade, but I would ask of you, please, recall your station. We are leaders of the Horde, and as such it is incumbent upon us to conduct ourselves with a modicum of maturity.
I know the Dragon Aspects have a lot on their plate these days, but considering the interest they have in Twilight’s Hammer activities, and the resources and information they have access to, have you considered reaching out to them for support in the search for Garrosh? Maybe have Thrall speak to them on your behalf?
–Zhurzigg, Orgrimmar
While it would indeed pain me to impose upon the hectic schedule of the Aspects, my time in Northrend did afford me the opportunity to develop a certain rapport with the Wyrmrest Accord. As a result, I was recently able to arrange a meeting with Nozdormu at the Caverns of Time. My original intention was to travel to Tanaris on the way to Silithus, but initial preparations detained me in Orgrimmar unexpectedly; fortunately Nozdormu was most gracious over my tardiness (in retrospect, I wonder if he knew in advance that I would be late, all things considered), and welcomed me for our discussion nonetheless.
[Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
Sadly, Nozdormu was able to uncover no leads that might help us pinpoint the location of the Warchief. His ability to delve into past events is, in fact, somewhat compromised by current activities of the Infinite Dragonflight, which is impeding the Aspects’ plan to retrieve the powerful Dragon Soul artifact from the past.
(As an aside, I must admit I would be tempted myself to volunteer for this mission, as it would entail the opportunity to witness first-hand some of the events of the War of the Ancients, in which my dear brother Broxigar had participated.)
[Contrary to popular belief, the Sundering did not happen because of the collapse of the Well of Eternity. The landmasses of the world heard that Saurfang was at the Well, and so the continents split apart in different directions to try to get as far away as possible. As it turns out, the Saurfang present at the Well was Broxigar, not Varok, but you can hardly blame the continents for erring on the side of safety. –Mkvr., ed.]
Nozdormu does still have the power to access the future, but this would appear to have limited usefulness for our purposes. He did suggest at one point that he might move us forward in time to such a point as Warchief Hellscream has been recovered, and then acquire from our future selves the relevant information as to how and where. This, however, struck me as a rather dubious solution; as I explained to the Aspect, in such a circular approach to problem-solving, the actual answers and information would not seem to actually come from anywhere, but rather be produced of whole cloth out of nothing. Nozdormu’s only response was to roll his eyes and, waving a hand about, mutter “Wibbly wobbly, timey whimey.”
The ways of the Aspects truly are a mystery.
One final note in closing: The one aspect of responding to your mail in this format that I do not particularly like is its relatively impersonal nature. Indeed, I wish to apologize to those of you who have written to me directly for not having replied directly in kind. When attempting to log into my “e-mail account,” the machine demanded I provide a password; apparently the device did not find the resulting cleave to be sufficient proof of my identity.
[When Saurfang…oh, wait, he’s already got this one covered. Good deal, boss. –Mkvr., ed.]
By all means, continue to write to me, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang
Monday mailbag
Short break from the ongoing business in Silithus and Ferelas and Dustwallow and wherever the hell I’m going to end up getting stuck going to next, to answer some mail…
Dear Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde;
I just wanted to thank you for kindly taking the time out of your busy schedule to spread some cheer at the orphanage this Winter’s Veil. The children were so thrilled to meet Greatfather Winter in person and to receive their new toys. There is so little excitement in their daily routine, and they have so very few possessions, that this event made a huge impression on them. Many are still talking about it to this day.
Of course, some of the older children realize that it was not really Greatfather Winter delivering their presents; however, they were quite touched to see that the Warchief himself has not forgotten them, the Horde’s smallest and most vulnerable citizens. I have informed these older children about the existence of your blog, so you may notice a slight increase in your readership.
Thank you once again, and may you have a very happy New Year.
–Orphan Matron Battlewail.
Some of you might have remembered last week that Eitrigg had gotten me to “volunteer” to play Greatfather Winter at the Orgrimmar orphanage (read: he went ahead and fucking told them I was going to do it without actually asking me, then played the honor-your-commitments and set-an-example-for-keeping-your-word-for-the-kids cards on me). A lot of you have probably seen this already, but @_Rades over at Orcish Army Knife somehow managed to get a picture of the spectacle too, so that might be worth a peek if you really don’t want to let me get away with any dignity.
Anyway, though… I guess it’s good that the kids felt like someone was looking out for them, even if a lot of them ARE a bunch of snot-nosed little brats. (And to think Thrall actually wants to be a dad, too… I’ll tell you right now, I am NOT looking forward to playing Uncle Garrosh at those get-togethers.)
My name is Gurtash, and I’m 13 years old. I live in Orgrimmar at the orphinage. My mom was sick and died after leaving the enterrnment camps. My dad died in battle in Northend fighting scorge. He was very brave and taght me to live with honor. I am going to be a warrior to like my dad and you.
Matron Battlewhale showwed me your blog it is very good. I love wyverns and Mortimer is the best! I seen you fly him before. My dad said I could have wyvern when I’m older but he died. Can i help you take care of Mortimer? I will feed him and brush him and clean his stall and talk to him. Maybe you could give me some sillver for helping or not that’s ok to. Let me know ok. Thanks.
Flying in the sky
Someday I’ll fly as high
Mortimer on the wing
Faster than anything
Loyal to the end
Protecting his friend
So dont start a fight
He will end it right.
EPIC VERSE!
–Gurtash
Uh oh, here we go. Well, I guess Battlewhale— erm, I mean, Battlewail did warn me.
Wait, this kid’s dad died fighting the Scourge in Northrend? But that would mean…oh crap.
So, Gurtash, I um…yeah, I’m sorry about your folks, but it’s good to hear you want to be a brave warrior of the Horde like your dad. Lucky for you we do have some really good trainers here in Orgrimmar, so make sure you listen to them once you’re a little older and you get to go down to the Valley of Trials. And make sure you eat lots of meat to build your strength. I know a lot of grownups are going to try pushing the vegetables on you, and they’re fine if you can choke them down, I guess, but trust me on this, you’re going to want a lot of protein for muscle. Pork, steak, bacon – dude, you cannot possibly get enough bacon – tastes great and great FOR you! Take it from your Warchief.
Also gotta say, you win points for the epic verse (no caps here because it’s kind of EPIC VERSE! junior edition in this case). Keep up the poetry, and just remember, don’t let anybody give you any crap about it. Somewhere along the line, some smartass is probably going to try to make some wisecracks about you writing poetry, but don’t listen to them. In fact, the best way to handle it is to just let them yammer on, let them take their best shot, and then take YOUR best shot back, ideally by beating the living shit out of them. I mean the living crap. I’m not supposed to say “shit” to you, am I, right? Fuck. DAMMIT, I did it again! Forget both of those. (AND DO NOT TRY ASKING MATRON BATTLEWAIL WHAT THE SECOND ONE MEANS. THAT IS AN ORDER!! Whew.)
Anyway, Gurtash, Mortimer DOES take a lot of time and attention, not that I really mind, but a little help on busy days or when I have to be away from Orgrimmar might be handy, come to think of it. I’ll see about bringing you over to Grommash Hold for a visit and see if we can set something up…just watch the talons until he gets used to you! Seriously. Wyverns are cool and all, but until they decide they can trust you, they don’t take any crap from anyone. If you do a good job with him, who knows, maybe next Winter’s Veil there might be a stray wyvern cub flapping around needing a home. Who knows?
That’s it for today. Tomorrow I’ll have a more newsy post up, since I know a lot of you are just waiting with bated breath to hear what my brilliant idea is about the Twilights.
Monday mailbag
Remind me not to do the Greatfather Winter thing for the orphanage again. First of all, nobody tells you how damn uncomfortable that getup is. Seriously, would it have killed them to find some material to make it from that DIDN’T feel like sandpaper? And meanwhile…okay, some of the kids were fine. A lot of them are pretty cute, and I suppose I should be generous what with it being the holidays, and their being orphans, and the fact that a pretty good chunk of them even got to be orphans in the first place because of battles I sent their parents off to fight in, but still! OMG the SCREAMING from some of these brats! On and on and on with the screaming and the screeching, and there were two of them who really took the cake, I don’t think they ever stopped going the whole time, till eventually I started calling them Dontrag and Utvoch Jrs. in my head.
Anyway, that’s done, so hopefully it will get Eitrigg off my back about his community service kick for a while.
Now for the mail. Just one letter this time, but it’s a doozy.
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
I wish to congratulate you on behalf of everyone at D.E.H.T.A. on your recent embrace of a healthier – and far more ethical – lifestyle. I admit, I had nearly given you up as a lost cause, so imagine my surprise and delight upon being informed that you have seen the error of your ways and publicly committed to eliminating meat from your diet! We at D.E.H.T.A. are all very proud of you.
To show our support of your decision, we have compiled a care package (which you shall find on the kodo caravan accompanying this letter). It’s nothing too extravagant, just a selection of delicious fruits, vegetables, nuts and legumes from every region in Azeroth, a sampler of 25 different types of tofu, as well as several cases of exotic spices. To further assist you I have also enclosed a complimentary autographed copy of my (now sadly out of print) cookbook Sustenance Without Suffering – 519 Delectable Vegan Recipes Guaranteed to Tickle Your Tongue While Soothing Your Conscience, as well as my (likewise out of print) companion guide From the Field to Your Face – The Complete Buyer’s Guide to Azerothian Agriculture Including Detailed Information About What to Buy, When to Buy it, and From Whom. (Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to update the second book post-Cataclysm, so be careful about ordering produce from non-existent locations.)
In addition, we would like to grudgingly commend you for your various initiatives to improve the lot of the poor enslaved Wyvern taxis in your service. Although true emancipation remains elusive, (and we will never be satisfied until it has been attained!), we have noticed that working conditions are better and rest breaks are more frequent. Most notably, Mortimer appears content to remain in your service and assures us that your treatment of him has vastly improved. (We remain skeptical on this point, but there is no arguing with him. Seriously. His claws are sharp!)
Finally, I would like to personally extend a metaphorical olive branch and issue an invitation for you to join D.E.H.T.A. for brunch in the Borean Tundra at your convenience. We have many other agenda items regarding the care of Azeroth’s most vulnerable citizens (the animals) which we would like to discuss with you. Also, certain rare edible lichens are just coming into season, but sadly they do not ship very well and we could not include them in your care package. I promise it will be a taste experience you will not soon forget.
Sincerely,
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Hoo boy.
Okay, so first of all, let me tell you, when he says he’s sending a “care package” of fruits and vegetables and shit, he’s totally downplaying the fucking VOLUME of stuff. Notice how he slipped in that little mention of a kodo caravan in parentheses there, like it was just a side note? Yeah. You would not BELIEVE the size of this fucking caravan. They started marching on into Orgrimmar, and by the time the chain of them had gotten from the front gate up to Grommash Hold, and started circling around, they weren’t even halfway done. Eventually while I was watching them come in, I started looking around in the sky for fucking Nozdormu, because I thought there HAD to be some kind of time-loop gag going on. I swear, the last two kodos in the line probably met for the first time when they were first setting up the caravan, and in the time it took all of them to march into town, those last two kodos got married, had two kids, raised them, sent them to college, welcomed them back, and hooked them up in the family business of carrying fucking arugula to Garrosh, before retiring and wandering off to find the Kodo Graveyard. THAT FUCKING BIG OF A CARAVAN.
I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do with all this shit. I’m looking around the war room right now and it looks like a fucking farmer’s market. The only good thing to come out of this is that now, FINALLY, I have something new to keep Marogg busy with. I’m having him come in and just go to town, and with any luck he’ll be able to crank out a bunch of new recipes to put on sale, so maybe those Orgrimmar cooking awards might finally be worth something again. (And I’m going to be WATCHING your ass this time, stupid meddling recipe-stealing tree!)
Of course, none of this even TOUCHES the fact that Lather-on-us has some really…um…iffy reading skills. If you look back at the mailbag he’s apparently referring to, the letter from Jaina…um…yeah. Dude needs to train up [Sarcasm Detection], because…
Hold on. You know what, forget it. I’m not going to straighten him out. If he thinks I’ve gone all granola-crunchy, maybe he’ll be a little less of a headache. No more of the stupid protests and letter-writing campaigns (by the by, when he gets on one of those, let me tell you, that’s a whole OTHER kodo caravan delivering all the other latters…although it’s also kind of sad when you actually look at the letters and it only really looks like there are like four different people’s handwriting, so…). So yeah. Let me just let the baby have his bottle, maybe go up to Northrend some weekend and choke down a salad, and make my life a little easier, at least until he figures out what a fucking idiot he is.
So, one last mail-related note before we finish up here. A couple weeks ago I mentioned in a post about Magatha Grimtotem that I had once written to her and explained part of the reason I was (still am) so enraged over her meddling with my duel with Cairne. I’ve gotten a couple passing inquiries about that, so I thought people might want a peek at what I’d said. This was the letter I sent her shortly after the duel – she and her Grimtotem stooges were trying to stage a takeover in Thunder Bluff, and for some asinine reason she actually thought I would be GRATEFUL to her for robbing me of my honor, and wrote to me asking for help against Baine’s forces. And so:
Unto Elder Crone Magatha of the Grimtotem,
Acting Warchief of the Horde, Garrosh Hellscream,
Sends his most sincere wishes for a slow and painful death.It has come to my attention that you have deprived me of a rightful kill. Cairne Bloodhoof was a hero to the Horde and an honorable member of a usually honorable race. It is with disgust and anger that I discover you have caused me to bring about his death through accidental treachery.
Such tactics may work well for your renegade, honorless tribe and Alliance scum, but I despise them. It was my wish to fight Cairne fairly, and win or lose by my own skill or lack of it. Now I shall never know, and the cry of traitor will dog my steps until such time as I can sport your head on a pike and point to you as the real traitor.
So…no. I will not be sending any truehearted orcs to fight alongside your treacherous, belly-crawling tribe. Your victory or your defeat is in the hands of your Earth Mother now. Either way, I look forward to hearing of your demise.
You are on your own, Magatha, as friendless and disliked as you have ever been. Perhaps more. Enjoy your loneliness.
So there you have it.
Anyway, we’ll be getting back to business this week. Mokvar’s got the transcript from Skarr’s interrogation written up, so I’ll be posting that for you all tomorrow, and we’ll have plenty to do this week in the aftermath.
Meanwhile, Mortimer’s still nursing a few injuries from his fight with the Razza last week, so he’s resting upstairs in his pen, and if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go heat up some soup for the furball. More soon.
Monday mailbag
Oh man, yesterday’s post with my latest EPIC VERSE really set off a shitstorm in today’s mailbag. Apparently there are some really pissed-off humans out there who had to get in their two coppers’ worth. So, here goes…
I don’t know why I keep checking on this “blog” of yours to see if there’s anything worth reading, or any signs of something redeemable about you or your kind. Without fail, my investigations are greeted by some despicable piece of drivel like you latest work of “poetry.” This time, though, you’ve gone over the line.
It’s bad enough to mock such noble citizens as Lady Proudmoore, whom I would think you’d show at least a modicum of respect if only out of deference to her (admittedly misguided) friendship with your countryman Thrall. And I’m not even going to dignify your snide insinuation about my son by discussing that point.
But to take advantage of the recent fall of our lost brother Benedictus, and to accuse him of some…misbehavior…which was responsible for some sort of perceived behavioral tendencies in my adult life…and that all of this somehow led to…performance issues on my part… And, hold on, Tiffin was a saint, okay? Don’t you even bring her into this! A saint! By the Light, I miss her, at least SHE understood, and…and finally someone made me feel safe enough to…ANYWAY THAT’S BESIDE THE POINT. The point is, you’ve gone way over the line this time, Hellscream, and the day is coming soon when you’ll be made to pay.
–King Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
Fuck you, Varian.
That pretty much covers it, right?
Also: the prosecution rests, your honor.
(Also also: I love the part there about “I don’t know why I keep reading this blog” – it’s like this trend I keep seeing online whenever somebody starts hating on something: “OMG I hated that book! Hated it! And I read it SIX TIMES, and every time I hated it more!” Like…dude…just don’t read it, okay?)
With warmest regards, to Garrosh Hellscream, formerly Overlord of the Warsong Offensive, now Acting Warchief of the Horde:
It is with a heavy heart that I take up my quill to pen this note to you, good sir. It had long been my hope that human and orc alike might set down their petty differences and join hands in fellowship in pursuit of a higher calling. While we fought valiantly beside one another against the tyranny of the Lich King in our time together in Northrend, and stood shoulder to shoulder in the face of unspoken horrors as the minions of the wicked Scourge rose up to oppose us; while we laid to rest, I had once hoped to think, our superficial animosities during our time overseeing the preparation of our assault on Icecrown when we gathered together on the hallowed grounds of the Argent Tournament; despite all of these and many other considerations, through all of which I developed a healthy respect for you as a soldier and rising leader of your people, Warchief Hellscream, it now saddens me to see the depths to which you are willing to sink for the sake of petty, destructive childishness.
Who but our foes could profit from such actions? We defenders of Azeroth are weaker as a whole for such things. While we turn upon each other, the minions of death surely must sit back and smile in satisfaction as we undertake to do some of their work for them. It is a comfort, at least, that we left Northrend victorious, the Lich King having fallen, for surely were there still a Lich King he would delight in such strife between our people. And yet, while we may take some small comfort in the knowledge that the wretched undead Scourge shall no longer profit from our conflict, we must forge on in the knowledge that other foes still stand before us. The Burning Legion, the Twilight’s Hammer, the Old Gods themselves still remain, and surely it can only work to their advantage for us to dwell on such petty, trivial matters as those that you have chosen to glorify and pursue in your recent misguided writings.
Think on my words, young Warchief, for in them you will find, I will hope, a wisdom that may yet guide your stewardship of the Horde to higher and more noble grounds, and allow us all to rise above these petty conflicts to forge a brighter, stronger future for our people. May the Blessings of the Light go with you, and light the shadows that yet haunt your baser thoughts.
Now if you’ll pardon me, I need to locate some mead and matches.
–Highlord Tirion Fordring, Hearthglen
TL;DR, Tirion.
You lost me at the “orcs and humans joining hands” and singing Kumbaya and shit part. For real, dude?
Like seriously, part of me really wants to see what would happen if I locked this guy in a room with Dontrag and Utvoch. Only problem I could see is that either they would literally use up ALL the words and there would be none left for the rest of us to use anymore, or they would reach some kind of verbal critical mass and create a black hole of words that would threaten to suck the surrounding room and eventually the whole planet into it.
Oh, and speaking of sucking anything that’s nearby…
You are a sick, sick individual. I can’t begin to imagine how you can even think to write these things. I can only hope that one day you’ll manage to wake up from your adolescent haze and blossom into the maturity of the average twelve-year-old. Until then, I suppose I can only have pity on your pathetic, disgusting soul.
–Lady Jaina Proudmoore, Theramore
Gotta say, the “Lady” part of your name there really amuses me. Along those lines, from now on I think I’d like to be addressed as “Vegetarian Garrosh Hellscream.”
Anyway, don’t get mad at me just because your girlfriend’s mouth gets going after a few drinks. Maybe you should have worked a little harder to keep it otherwise occupied. OH NO HE DIDN’T!
Oh, and SPEAKING of whom…
I’m speechless. Utterly speechless. You swore up and down that anything we talked about would be between you, me, and the wall – little did I suspect that apparently you meant your FACEBOOK wall! What kind of a person do you have to be to swear confidentiality to someone, then run around blabbing it?
It really is sad that you feel so at ease with using alcohol to take advantage of someone in a vulnerable, easily influenced state. I would pray for you if I didn’t have such a headache.
–Argent Confessor Paletress
On the first point: I <3 irony.
On the second point: You know, when I saw the line about taking advantage of someone while they’re drunk, I was going to make a Jaina joke, but that wouldn’t be fair. Everybody knows you don’t have to get Jaina drunk. And I mean EVERYBODY, amirite?
Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you. I can’t begin to tell you how entertaining it is to watch you ants scamper back and forth, swiping unsuspecting at each other over nothing, and generally wearing each other down so that, when the time comes, your metaphorical anthill can be brought to nothing with 0.0003% resistance rather than 0.0005% resistance. Not only are you assuring me that my eventual, inevitable triumph will play out that much more smoothly, but you’re providing me with endless amusement in the process.
Please keep it up, all of you. You’re doing Titans’ work, as the saying goes. At least until I get around to undoing same.
–Sargeras, Twisting Nether
The hell?
(Literally?)
Also, since when do they get internet in the Twisting Nether? He’s able to frigging e-mail me from the TWISTING NETHER, and meanwhile if I get too close to an air elemental, my why-fly cuts out on me? I’ve got to get Spazzle on this.
Anyway, at least somebody is enjoying the blog.
