Monthly Archives: December 2011
Ahn’Qiraj
We’re not there yet, but things are starting to come together.
I met up with Garona in Silithus at the Scarab Gate. Based on the information we’d gotten from Skarr, the phylactery of Cho’gall is in Silithus (And by the way, did I mention I’m getting sick sick SICK of all the running around I’ve been stuck doing for this operation? Would it have killed them to set this all up within a few blocks?), and the final destination is going to be C’thun’s chamber in Ahn’Qiraj – but since we didn’t know whether it was already there, or going straight there, or somewhere else in transit, we decided to hit the end point first and see if we could work backwards if necessary. So we met outside the ruins and made our way into the old temple.
It’s been years since Horde adventurers fought their way through that place and cleared out the Qiraji that held the area, but it’s still creepy as hell in there. The walls look like they might as well be alive, twitchy and slimy, and even knowing the Qiraji are gone, you still can’t help feeling like at any second some giant bug monster could jump out of the dirt at you. You end up walking through the place with the weirdest uneasy feeling, like you’re constantly tricking yourself into thinking you just saw something out of the corner of your eye.
We ran into a small pack of Twilight guards as we got fairly deep into the temple, and I probably don’t need to tell you how that went for them. (Heh.) We finally reached C’thun’s chamber in the heart of the temple, where we found a pair of Twilight cultists unpacking several crates of random conjuring doohickies and reagents, arranging them around the room… And by the way, as if the place didn’t already have enough creepy factor going for it, some of C’thun’s remains were still there. Dead for years and it’s still there, looking fresh enough that you’d half expect it to wake up. Maybe those Old Gods have something about them that prevents them from decomposing the way the rest of us do when we die. Curse of flesh, right? End to end, I’m pretty sure this stop is going to do wonders for my dreams come nighttime…
Anyhow… the cultists weren’t much more of an issue than the guards were, other than the fact that these guys needed to be taken alive, what with them probably knowing the most about what was going on. Still, it didn’t take too much doing to subdue them, and then Garona and I dragged them off into separate rooms to question them separately. No comment on how much beating either of them ended up taking. Just take my word that they’re both still alive. Mostly. Can’t go killing THESE cultists just yet, at least till we’re sure we don’t need any more info from them. Anyway, point is, we were able to get some information from them.
The phylactery isn’t in the temple now, but is being moved around the zone to prevent it from staying in one place for too long. There’s a Twilight agent going around with an entourage from camp to camp while the cultists here get everything ready for the ritual. Once they’re ready, they’re supposed to send up a signal, and the courier will know to make the final delivery.
I’m FAIRLY sure I can persuade them to fill us in on how they’re supposed to give the signal. (Heh.) Which means that (a) there’s no signal going out until we let it happen, and (b) we can control when it DOES go out. Which means, now we’re in business.
So here’s the plan.
Garona’s going to stay in Ahn’Qiraj while I head back to Orgrimmar and arrange for a Kor’kron stealth team to head down to Silithus quietly. We’ll move them into the temple, set up shop, and then once we have the place secured and have all the back exits and trap doors covered, we’ll give the signal for the Twilight courier to bring home the phylactery. After all, if it’s on the move all over the zone, why spend our time chasing it all over the place, when we can just have it hand delivered, right?
On my way out of Silithus I stopped at Cenarion Hold and talked to Commander Mar’alith. As a matter of fact, when we were first heading to Silithus, I kind of figured Cenarion support might be handy before all was said and done, so…spirits help me…I sent a letter to ol’ Lather-on-us in Northrend. I figured since he’s wanting to make nice with me now that he thinks I’m cutting back on the veal (HAH!), he might be able to put in a good word for us with his Cenarion friends. Pretty much just told him we’re working on an operation against the Twilight’s Hammer, who want to destroy the world, and if they do, it might be bad for the animals. That perked him up right quick.
So Ma’alith knew I’d probably be coming, and he’s agreed to help with the operation by stepping up the Cenarion patrols of the zone to make sure no cultists leave Silithus without us knowing. Meanwhile I’m having an entire battalion posted in the passageway between Silithus and Un’goro Crater, and putting the Kor’kron Air Guard on constant patrol around the zone. Between us and the Cenarions, nobody, but nobody, is getting out of Silithus without our say-so. Which means the phylactery is sealed up in Silithus, not going anywhere, until we get our people in position to spring the trap.
And speaking of which, on my way up to Durotar, I’m making a stop at Brackenwall Village to talk with Krog and the others.
Hold on tight, kids. I have an idea.
[Header image provided by Clara from Come Get tha Voodoo, via Rioriel of Postcards From Azeroth. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
Good news and really, really bad news
First the good news.
I just checked in with Krog and Draz’Zilb at Brackenwall Village, and things seem to be lining up on a couple fronts. For one, everything we learned from Skarr seems to check out. Draz’Zilb seems pretty knowledgeable on this kind of creepy black magic type stuff, and according to him it would make sense that C’thun’s chamber in Ahn’Qiraj would be an ideal place to pull off a resurrection once they have the phylactery. From what he said (if I remember this right – there was a whole lot of hocus-pocus necro-babble), since Cho’gall tried to revive C’thun in that chamber, and actually let himself become an avatar for C’thun at one point, the surrounding area should be attuned to his essence in a way that will help focus the incantation. Apparently that’s the trade-off for this kind of ritual – restoring somebody’s spirit from a non-living vessel doesn’t take a whole lot of magical energy, but it does need something attuned to that particular spirit in order to focus the spell properly, as opposed to living vessels, which I guess actually keep the essence better preserved but require an immense amount of power to unlock. So considering the Twilight ties in Silithus, this lines up pretty ideally for them.
Meanwhile, the misdirection operation in Dustwallow Marsh seems to be working. Draz’Zilb has been putting on some regular pyrotechnic shows both in the village and around the general area, to make it seem like they’re up to something, and we’ve been sending out search parties of ogres and orcs alike to play up the appearance that we’ve got something brewing. The Grimtotem seem to be taking the bait, since attacks on the village have been happening more frequently the last few days. So far so good.
Now for the bad news. And…yeah, I actually can’t believe this one. I have to admit, at this point I can’t say I’m totally unaccustomed to shooting myself in the foot somehow, but OH COME ON.
So, remember a few days ago, when Garona and I met that blood elf guy at the Steam Pools resort? Johnny Awesome? (Yes, really.) Yeah, and remember how he wanted to help out, and do some quests for me personally? And how I sent him off to Thousand Needles or Tanaris to keep him busy?
Yeah, well, guess who I just heard back from.
Lakota Windsong, one of our main tauren operatives in Thousand Needles.
And guess who turned up looking to help, and got sent off on some tasks for Lakota?
Yep, you guessed it. Johnny Awesome.
Oh, and guess who APPARENTLY was also down there in Thousand Needles, unbeknownst to anyone except for Lakota Windsong and a few others who neglected to tell ME for what reason I CANNOT FUCKING IMAGINE, and who APPARENTLY had been captured and was being held by the Twilight’s Hammer cultists down there, that is until one Johnny Awesome happened along and FUCKING HELPED HER ESCAPE and now she’s ON THE LOOSE again??
MAGATHA FUCKING GRIMTOTEM.
…
…
YEAH. YEAH. YOU READ THAT RIGHT.
Excuse me one second.
sdljkfygjs09ea p875oyhtowi8ej7to98qw37eyhju0vg98y 13ouikltyhnudfj7 shyv5f0p9q23y5ikt7q3yhno4ik tlugyheq98o5gq3ui5yn q39oh867q3h40p 9tyqiu verkyhaow8l7tohqb23p89yh1 p8956vq734poj985t b77potyhq89o3 275vy gj8w45p90q374j5p9v82y 3p5o9v8jy73p98 q0jv3567qh3 4p9567j30 p9867p304975 ujmp 9oq347560 q93p47jy5683456t90327 j4u5v89yq30p9 57yvoq93475ypqv9 375yjvp9oq8w37y5j 890qv75jpq;v2y u5p9;q3847uv6m jp 9q38y746p98vt7q 04p87p345vt y7j8934756jyp0v9q 3476ypo89 q347y6j t0e34y 5tp9q37y4p968j 7yw90pe48j7 yv6098q374yj6v0p 9487p7q 3y4v86 7j tyq8epythise urhgliaseh rgtkjaeyhr tliuaeyrtiouy iortuyhilLIUY RIOUGF JYILTY HAEJKRGHTOEIAQY RTHVOILQWY3U5J OVQ3I8WY5 ROIQ UYIOY!!!!!!!!!!!1111!!1!11!!111!!one!!!!!111!!!!!!!eleven!!!!!!!!!!!
TWO HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVEN THOUSAND GALLONS OF WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, DUDE!!!
Oh but wait, you want details? Sure! Absolutely! LET ME GIVE YOU THE FUCKING DETAILS!!!
APPARENTLY, after Magatha got her ass booted out of Thunder Bluff, she went into hiding in Thousand Needles, and when the Twilight’s Hammer started stepping up their activity there, they captured her along with a batch of others. (NICE HOW THEY WERE ABLE TO TRACK HER DOWN RIGHT OFF LIKE THAT, HUH?? YET ANOTHER BANG-UP JOB BY MY CRACK TEAM!) So when Lakota sent Johnny Awesome around to help clean up the Grimtotem mess down there, Magatha started sending messages to the stupid elf to get him to release her pet wind serpent Arikara. Along the way Johnny Awesome also killed Arnak Grimtotem and Isha Gloomaxe, so okay, good news there, since that takes out the braintrust that had been coordinating all the ogre business in Feralas and Dustwallow, but whatever, because along the way, Johnny Awesome ALSO managed to round up a batch of ancient tauren relics – the Writ of History, the Rattle of Bones, and the Drums of War – and ended up fucking handing them OVER to Magatha.
Because, get this, after he’d done all this good work killing off these high-ranking Grimtotem, Johnny Awesome got sent to the Twilight outpost to check up on Magatha…and not only does he fucking HAND OVER THESE RELICS, but he goes out and acquires ANOTHER powerful artifact called the Doomstone…which he ALSO fucking HANDS OVER TO MAGATHA…and THEN, just to finish up, HE FUCKING FREES HER FROM THE TWILIGHTS AND LETS HER SKIP OFF ON HER MERRY FUCKING WAY!!!
I…
It…
He…
SLDKGJSHFGKJSHF GKUSDFJHGKLJSDFHGN KLSJDHFGKSJDH FGKUJSFG HKSERHTGLIKU HTGLISERHGJK,LDLI UGBYHSGITYH EIRGTHLER HGTLIEAHGLJK SADEHGLJKAEHGL JSERGLSELIGU HSGRHSERGHERGH
[Insert vocabulary failure here.]
So, yeah. Before I forget:
IMPORTANT NOTICE TO ALL LOYAL CITIZENS OF THE HORDE, FROM YOUR WARCHIEF: Effective immediately, THERE WILL BE A REWARD OF TEN THOUSAND OF ONE MILLION OF MORE THAN YOU CAN POSSIBLY COUNT TO BE PAID TO WHOEVER DELIVERS TO GROMMASH HOLD THE MUTILATED (but identifiable) CORPSE OF ONE JOHNNY AWESOME.
(Additional note to Wega and/or Uukra: If it’s you, there might be a dinner date in it for you. Consider it your incentive.)
THAT IS ALL.
P.S.: The FUCK!! AAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
Conversations with crazy people
So back to business. Now that some of the holiday festivities are behind us, it’s about time I fill you all in on what’s been going on with this whole phylactery business.
Like I was saying a few days ago, after Garona and I captured Skarr we brought him back to Stonemaul Hold and held him for questioning for a while. Good thing is that it ended up not taking too much to get some partial answers out of him. Mokvar was on hand to record the interrogation, so I’ve copied a part below so you can see how things went. I cut out some early stuff with Skarr just being generally crazy before we started getting actual information, but I think you’ll get the idea.
GARONA: I’m not sure we’re getting anywhere. Do you think we should bring in that ogre from Brackenwall?
GARROSH: Draz’Zilb? No, that won’t work here.
GARONA: Why not? It got you what you needed from that Grimtotem.
SKARR: Foolish bulls, cows, grazing in the woods, running around and back and forth, chasing their tails, they look for Skarr, they look, but no, they never find him, stupid cows, never look the right way in front of behind them and see…
GARROSH: First of all, Draz’Zilb’s voodoo mojo thingy was all about forcing the prisoner to come face to face with their greatest fears until they give in just out of self-preservation.
GARONA: So?
GARROSH: You think self-preservation is the way to go with a lunatic? A lunatic working for the Old Gods, for that matter? Either he’s crazy enough to think they’re going to spare him…
SKARR: Preserved, yes, kept for the masters, held for them, alive, alive, need Skarr alive, all of us alive until we all die, die for the masters, die in glory, die in flame, HAHA!
GARROSH: …or he knows he’s going to end up dead. And signed on for it anyway. Either way, we’re not dealing with a normal mind here.
SKARR: Haha, you talk like Skarr not here! Skarr knows! Skarr mind have more than you think, Skarr almost outsmart so smart you think, you think, you…you… <stares>
GARROSH: Besides…Draz’Zilb’s thing will kill him.
SKARR: HAH! Kill! Kill! All around, blackness all, all awaiting. It comes, it comes, crawling, swarming…
GARONA: I’m not so sure that’s a bad thing.
SKARR: Death comes for you all. HAHA!
GARROSH: No. We want this one alive. He’s not just some random foot soldier.
SKARR: Stupid foolish cows.
Garrosh leans in close, staring into Skarr’s face.
GARROSH: There’s something in there.
GARONA: We’ll get it.
Skarr grins wide and lets out a crazed laugh.
GARROSH: But before too long the Twilights are going to know he’s gone missing, and it’s not going to take a whole lot of brain power to figure out where he went. Hell, with all the spies they seem to have, they might already know.
SKARR: Stupid orcses, think you so smart, Skarr outsmart you, almost outsmart and hack and hack and kill in the woods!
GARROSH: Wow he’s proud of that poison move.
GARONA: Sharper than most ogres would think to do, I’ll grant him.
GARROSH: But, point is…if we kill him, they’ll find out quick enough. And then they’ll know we have everything he knew. So we keep him alive.
SKARR: Hold Skarr, yes, yes, keep me close, watching – HAH! – waiting, watching, tick, tock, the hour comes, tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…
Garrosh leans in closer, still staring.
GARROSH: Oh, don’t worry, Skarr. You’ll still die eventually.
SKARR: <grin fades> Orc die too. Die in fire! Shadow and flame, tick, tock, the Hour of Twilight comes…
GARROSH: <shakes head> No… See, Skarr, that’s just it. Your big bad hot-shit apocalypse we’re all going to die in? It’s not coming.
Skarr’s face melts into a scowl as he glares at Garrosh in silence.
And you’re going to live just long enough to know that you lost.
Garrosh walks away from the ogre and stands by Garona, both of them watching him intently.
SKARR: <mutters> Tick, tock…
GARROSH: Would be nice if he didn’t just talk in circles, though.
GARONA: That’s fine. Let him talk in circles. That’s good.
SKARR: Yes, yes, round and round, circling spinning, circles closing, closing, always closing in around you…tick, tock, tick…
GARROSH: See? How is that good?
GARONA: Remember, I’ve done my share of interrogations, too. The Twilight’s Hammer…the humans…
SKARR: Stupid stupid foolish cows, chasing, chasing, chasing their tails…
GARONA: Crazy or not, when they talk in circles, you just have to let them keep talking. Let them keep circling. It means they’re circling around what they know. Sooner or later they’ll give you what you want…because they don’t know how to talk about anything else.
SKARR: Skarr know what orcs want.
GARONA: And this one, he wants to tell us.
GARROSH: The what you say?
SKARR: DIE! FLAME AND SHADOW!
GARONA: Have you ever had a conversation with someone where they kept steering it back to the same topics over and over?
GARROSH: I’ve…had the experience.
GARONA: It’s the same idea.
SKARR: Skarr knew you come, he knew…
GARONA: They keep coming back to the things they want to talk about. And especially this one…I bet he’s dying to let it out. Aren’t you, Skarr?
SKARR: Burn and drown and crush and suffocate! HAHAH!
GARROSH: Fuck, how did THIS guy get put on a job like this?
GARONA: Mmhmm, exactly.
GARROSH: Huh?
GARONA: He’s probably never been trusted with something this important before. Have you, Skarr? Just another ogre, a good enough fighter probably, but really nothing special. But then the Twilight’s Hammer comes along…
SKARR: They need Skarr! Skarr knows, Skarr sees…since the Maul…
GARONA: You were there when Cho’gall came to the Maul, weren’t you? Had his gathering with the Gordunni…
SKARR: Skarr look into it…look into nothing, nothing, Skarr know then, Skarr know, nothing all the way down…
Garona steps closer to Skarr, watching his face.
GARONA: He saw something in you, didn’t he? Cho’gall. Ogre to ogre. And he trusted you.
SKARR: All the way down…
GARONA: It must have been a good feeling.
GARROSH: You’re not going to start getting all touchy-feely now, are you?
GARONA: You must have been so…proud.
GARROSH: Because really, it’s not a good look for you.
SKARR: Cho’gall trust Skarr. Cho’gall give Skarr. Give Skarr vision, give Skarr the truth, give Skarr, give Skarr purpose—
GARONA: Gave you the phylactery. And a mission to keep it safe, is that it?
Skarr falls silent.
GARROSH: I don’t get why THIS guy would be the caretaker of something that important, though.
GARONA: Have you SEEN the other ogres?
GARROSH: Yeah, none of them are exactly geniuses, but still, I’m not seeing what’s so different about this one.
SKARR: Skarr BELIEVE.
GARROSH: You believe. Believe what?
GARONA: Don’t you get it? Everything. The whole hopeless crusade… You were the only one who really GOT it, weren’t you, Skarr?
SKARR: Others say. Others pretend. Or tell Cho’gall what they think he want, not listening, never listening, silly brothers, never listen, never seeing, lost in the forest, blind for the trees, fight over ashes in house aflame, fire and shadow, burn and crush and drown—
GARROSH: Fighting in a burning house…
GARONA: The others wanted to get on Cho’gall’s good side as a means to an end – power, riches, rewards. But see? Those are all…well…things of this world. As long as there are still things left in the world that you want, then you still haven’t really given up.
GARROSH: <nodding> He was the only one in the burning house going “Fuck it, let it burn…”
SKARR: Skarr look into nothing and nothing look back…nothing see nothing, nothing see itself, mirrors in mirrors and circles and circles, round and round into nothing…and it was good…
GARONA: Cho’gall wanted to see who had given up.
SKARR: Nothing, nothing, all the way down…
GARROSH: Okay… So I get it, Skarr. The other ogres, yeah, they were busy focusing on what would be in it for them if the Twilights won, and that’s fine for the battleground fodder, right? For your garden variety foot soldiers, you don’t care if they’re just in it for the paycheck…but for the inner circle, you want the people who are all-in, is that it?
SKARR: Cho’gall notice Skarr. Cho’gall remember. Keep in mind, keep in mind…
GARROSH: So when the time came for him to hide the phylactery away, you were the one he went to.
GARONA: The one who was worthy.
GARROSH: So fine. You’re the chosen one. Kudos to you, nice job on the hopeless despair, real feather in your cap there. So what happened to it? If you’re the keeper of this big-fucking-deal trust, what are you doing hiding in a broken-down gnoll village?
SKARR: Stampede the Maul…clatter of hoofs, rattle of swords…
GARROSH: The Grimtotem.
GARONA: It adds up. He was up in Dire Maul at some point, and that’s where the Grimtotem started hitting more of late. It makes sense he would head south to make sure they didn’t find what they were after.
GARROSH: So he high-tailed it down to the Lower Wilds with the phylactery, and…wait a minute. If the Twilights already HAD the damn thing, what’s this whole big production been about? Why have those cultists running around hitting the ogre hot spots like they were looking for something when they already knew where it was?
GARONA: Why are you having our people in Dustwallow carry on like the ogres there might still be holding the phylactery?
GARROSH: I…ah.
GARONA: It’s just a way to keep the Grimtotem busy looking for it, keep them one move behind…
SKARR: <chuckling madly> Chasing their tails, chasing their tails, silly stupid cows…
GARROSH: Just a big misdirect.
GARONA: Mmhmm.
GARROSH: Should I be worried that this cult and I seem to think so much alike?
GARONA: No comment.
GARROSH: Well hang on again, wasn’t the whole point with the Grimtotem that they were trying to find this thing BEFORE the Twilights? How did they even get started on a race to fins something that wasn’t lost?
GARONA: Who knows where the Grimtotem were getting their information? Or exactly how they were putting the details together? Look at it – they could have learned somehow that the Twilight’s Hammer needs the phylactery to bring back Cho’gall. Which they do. And that it’s somewhere among the ogres. Which is was. Beyond that, who knows? There’s a million ways they could have gotten the details twisted around, mistaken it being hidden for being lost…
GARROSH: So where is it now?
Garrosh and Garona both turn to Skarr.
WHERE. IS IT. NOW?
SKARR: <chuckles> Safe.
GARROSH: Well it sure as hell isn’t in that camp you were staying at, I know that much. We turned the place upside down after we got your fat ass under wraps.
SKARR: Not matter, not matter, what you do with Skarr not matter, Skarr do his job, Skarr… What happen now…not in Skarr’s hands.
GARONA: They have it.
GARROSH: Is that it, you big ball of crazy? You finished your end of the job keeping it safe, and you handed it off to the cult? Pass it along then stay behind to make sure it looks like there’s still a search on while everybody else spins their wheels?
SKARR: Tick, tock, tick—
GARROSH: <pummel>
SKARR: <silenced>
GARROSH: KNOCK IT OFF with the idiot tick-tock bullshit.
SKARR: Sliding sands through the glass, through the hourglass, slipping away…
GARROSH: And that goes for whatever other time-passing metaphors you’ve got up your sleeve!
SKARR: Sands passing, sands sliding, slipping, sifting, sifting, shifting sands, shifting, sifting, si—
GARROSH: So help me, ogre—
GARONA: Wait, wait, I think I get it.
GARROSH: Oh. Yeah. Of course. Why didn’t I realize you could speak fluent crazy?
GARONA: I’m SERIOUS. The sands. It’s not a random time metaphor there just to taunt you.
GARROSH: What then?
GARONA: And by the way, since when is “metaphor” a part of your vocabulary, anyway?
GARROSH: Keeping on track, please?
GARONA: Well I’m just saying, metaphors? You?
GARROSH: Why do people keep talking like I’m some kind of illiterate moron? I DO write poetry on the side—
GARONA: You do? Poetry?
GARROSH: —so you’ll EXCUSE me if I actually managed to pick up a literary device here and there, okay?
GARONA: Do you write a lot of poetry?
GARROSH: Can you PLEASE stay focused? The sand thing isn’t a metaphor, fine, and yes I know what the fuck a metaphor is, stop the presses, big fucking deal, so what IS it? And so help me, if you get smart as say it’s a simile—
GARONA: Is that the one with “like” or “as”?
GARROSH: Really not the point.
GARONA: I’m just wondering, I always get those mixed up. Metaphors are the ones without “like” or “as,” right? And similes are with “like” or “as”?
GARROSH: Oh for fuck’s sake. YES, fine, similes use “like” or “as”, are you happy now? HERE, just to illustrate the fucking point: “I would really LIKE to get out of this conversation AS soon AS possible,” can we fucking move on please?
GARONA: That really doesn’t sound like a simile.
GARROSH: <rubbing head> You were actually doing pretty okay today, you really were.
SKARR: Circling, circling, round and round, endless wailing, endless darkness, darkness dying souls…
GARROSH: Right there with you, Skarr.
GARONA: And what’s that supposed to mean?
GARROSH: How about we focus on what something ELSE is supposed to mean, like say, I don’t know, the fucking thing about the sands which apparently aren’t going through the hourglass, and…oh fuck, wait, is it the Caverns of Time? Sands of the hourglass sounds like of Nozdormu-y, is that it?
GARONA: I just said it wasn’t a metaphor.
GARROSH: Well technically, that would be pretty literal, not a metaphor.
GARONA: How would that be literal?
GARROSH: Um, he was referring to sands passing through an hourglass, and that’s time, and those are the Caverns of Time, where all kinds of timey whimey stuff goes down – I’m not sure how much more literal you can get than that.
GARONA: Yes, I get the connection, but an hourglass is still a metaphor for time in that context, isn’t it?
GARROSH: If you really want to split hairs, I suppose, but it’s more kind of a dead metaphor.
GARONA: A dead metaphor?
GARROSH: You heard me.
GARONA: What the hell is that? I think you’re making this stuff up now.
GARROSH: I’m not making anything up, it just so happens I’ve read a fucking book or two in my life, is there a problem with that?
GARONA: And besides, why would they send the phylactery to the Caverns of Time? How does that make any sense at all? The place is crawling with bronze dragons who are on our side.
GARROSH: Well then what’s YOUR answer, little Miss Brainstorm?
GARONA: Although I suppose it’s not that big of a stretch, since there’s also that whole thing about sand, and there is a lot of sand in Tanaris, and in a roundabout way that’s kind of—
SKARR: It’s Silithus! For N’Zoth’s sake, it’s fucking SILITHUS! FUCK! Twilight agents picked up the phylactery, and they’re delivering it to SILITHUS, okay? Can you just SHUT UP now?!
GARONA: See! SEE?! I knew it! I KNEW it was Silithus!
GARROSH: I think you’re really overlooking the most illuminating part of that little outburst.
GARONA: Because, you see, the Twilight’s Hammer has always had a presence there, and then there’s the reference to “shifting sands”…
GARROSH: No, really, you want to step back and look at the bigger picture here.
SKARR: In order to carry out the resurrection, they need the residual energies from C’thun’s chamber in Ahn’Qiraj to focus the spell. It’s where Cho’gall tried to restore C’thun to this world, and the place is attuned to his spirit as a result…
GARONA: And see, even the words he was using – shifting, sliding, slipping, sifting, Silithus!
GARROSH: Right, it’s Silithus, we get it.
GARONA: I’m just saying, it’s exactly what I thought it was!
GARROSH: Yeah, good for you, that’s great.
GARONA: I could have told you, too, if you’d have let me get a word in edgewise.
GARROSH: I…what?
GARONA: Instead of going on about what a big literary expert you’re supposed to be.
GARROSH: I never said I was—
GARONA: You’ll notice who actually managed to read between the lines and figure out what was going on here, though.
GARROSH: I SAID good job.
GARONA: Yes, but there was a tone.
GARROSH: There was not a tone.
GARONA: I picked up a tone.
GARROSH: I think I would know if I had a tone!
GARONA: Because you’re such an unparalleled master of language, is that it?
GARROSH: For fuck’s sake, here we go again.
GARONA: I need to see this poetry of yours, by the way.
SKARR: Is she always like this?
After this point I was heading back to Orgrimmar for Winter’s Veil stuff, which came in handy since it let me put a little distance between me and Garona, who let me tell you, dialed it up to eleven after the way things finished up with Skarr. Meanwhile she’s gone ahead to Silithus to start chasing down the Twilights. I’ll be heading down soon myself. With any luck we can make some quick progress before the Twilights piece together that something is up.
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.
Happy Winter’s Veil
Just a quick note to all my loyal Horde citizens to commemorate the holiday season. A happy Winter’s Veil to all of your! And as for you Alliance who might see this, as a gift for you to the holidays, here, I pledge NOT to burn your cities to the ground and wipe you all from the face of the world this week. See? Whoever said I don’t have holiday spirit. No promises about next week, though — once the decorated trees come down, you’re all living on borrowed time, and it’s just a question of when I’ll show up in your lands and exterminate your armies and grind your leaders’ skulls to a fine mist and your fields will burn and your children will wail and your mother will bake me pie.
So happy holidays! Now if you’ll pardon me, Eitrigg somehow roped me into volunteering to play Greatfather Winter for the Orgrimmar orphanage, so I need to go get into costume and head down there and hand out some crap. See you all soon.
What to get the Warchief who has everything
So Garona and I had our interrogation of Skarr, which ended up being pretty productive, and Mokvar was on hand to record it. He’s in the process of getting it transcribed for the blog, so you’ll see that soon. In the meantime, though, I’m back in Orgrimmar for the height of the Winter’s Veil season. So in the spirit of the holiday, I thought I’d take a break from all this serious averting-the-end-of-the-world stuff and write up a quick Winter’s Veil post or two.
A few days ago, @NavimieDruid from The Daily Frostwolf asked on Twitter, “What does a great warrior want from Greatfather Winter?” I gave her a quick response, but the thought occurred to me that this might be a good question to take up in an actual post, now that the Winter’s Veil season is here. So, here’s my wish list for this year – if Greatfather Winter really exists and is reading this, hey man, have at it…but anyone else planning to drop by Grommash Hold bearing gifts can feel free too:
- A new helm to replace the latest one that’s turned out to be a size too big (two red sockets plus a meta pl0x).
- Varian’s head on a pike.
- Magatha’s head on a pike.
- 40% fewer idiots in front of me.
- 70% fewer idiots behind me.
- Some adequate explanation as to why the idiots always seem to stack behind me.
- A new set of elementium grinding stones for sharpening Gorehowl.
- The OTHER fucking [Binding of the Windseeker]. (For real, Baron, do you NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND that I will actually STOP KILLING YOU if you just give the damn thing up?)
- A Happy Fun Rock.
- A red, padded, embossed leather harness for Mortimer.
- A sled like the one I had as a kid during winters in Nagrand. For the life of me I don’t know what happened to the original, but man do I miss it. Bonus points if you can find one that has “Mageroyal” inscribed across the back like my old one.
- A firm answer from the goblin contractors on when the Orgrimmar construction work will be done. Seriously, you guys, it’s been over a fucking year now.
Mortimer vs. the Razza
Since I kind of promised to fill in the details yesterday of Mortimer’s role in my showdown with Skarr, I figured I’d take a minute today to do that. And considering what a kickass job Mortimer did of it, too, I figure there’s only one appropriate form…
Skarr went off to Feralas on a mission for the cult,
With the hope an ogre relic could raise Cho’gall as result,
And he made his camp in secret while his agents ranged afield,
And he waited there to reap the gains their search would surely yield.
His mission was a secret, details shared with precious few;
Even where he’d made his base was known by only one or two.
So when they went to see him, hardly had they neared his lair
When their path was intercepted by the Razza in the air.
Its wingspan was enormous, dozen yards across at least,
And one hardly could imagine how Skarr’d tamed the vicious beast;
But he somehow bent its will to his, this hunter sans compare,
And the Lower Wilds were now watched by the Razza from the air.
He’d lived there long amid the Wilds and Dire Maul and therein,
And his terror was the stuff of tales told by the Woodpaw kin,
For when the primitives would hunt, they’d fear not wolf or bear,
But they’d tread in dread that they might see the Razza in the air.
So now when Skarr set up his camp, he’d have the Razza spy
Down upon all those who dared come near from vantage of the sky;
And any who approached the camp was spotted unaware,
Then swoop and clutch, away were swept by Razza in the air.
And so when Garrosh found him and descended from the cliff,
Skarr engaged the orc in battle with an air of “Yeah, as if.”
For he knew he needed only hold his ground and keep it close,
Till the Razza could arrive, and then it would be adios.
Skarr held his own as best he could, and scored a hit or two,
When in the skies his eyes did spy vast wings of white and blue;
And Garrosh knew the day was his, until to his chagrin
He found a wild chimaera clawing wildly at his skin.
The Razza swooped in close to strike, and spewed blue fiery breath,
And let aloose a fiendish shriek from both its beastly heads.
And Garrosh felt the blue flames as he took another hit,
And they didn’t hurt, but it was hard to see through all that shit.
Now Skarr attacked reenergized and pressed the battle on,
And Garrosh ceded ground while he kept being flamed upon.
When suddenly there came a growl—Skarr scarcely realized where—
As wyvern talons tore into the Razza in the air.
Blue wings were met with brown as they raced in as if a blur,
And Garrosh yelled victoriously, “Go get ’im, Mortimer!”
He didn’t need to tell him twice: of wyvern wrath beware!
And Mortimer let loose upon the Razza in the air.
His biting was a frenzy and his slashing claws were fluid,
For “The Razza” say the Woodpaw, but “Mortimer” quoth the druid;
Another slash with furious claws, another vicious tear;
And blood was on the ground beneath the Razza in the air.
A blue-white wing was torn to shreds, a horn shattered like glass;
The Razza wailed as Mortimer was handing him his ass.
He yanked him back and clawed him deep, and clutched him from behind
And clawed at one of his two heads till it was rendered blind.
The desperate Razza spun around and flung Mortimer wide,
The wyvern crashing awkwardly into the mountainside;
He sprawled in pain on aching back, his upper hand upstaged,
And the Razza saw its final chance, and dove in feral rage.
The chimaera shrieked murd’rously and fell upon its prey,
While Mortimer grasped panicked for the one that got away.
A slashing, tearing pair of claws, and fangs fresh-drenched with blood,
Then a horrifying wail, followed by a lifeless thud.
Now somewhere in Feralas, Twilight cultists gloat and preen,
While the Grimtotem and ogres share the tales of what they’ve seen.
But the hunter is the hunted, predator is prey instead,
And there is no joy for Skarr, son, ’cause the Razza’s fucking dead.
EPIC VERSE!
Better luck next time, irony
Okay, so maybe backup isn’t such a bad idea. That was big ol’ pain in the ass.
So I climbed down the mountain a ways and watched the gnoll camp for more signs of Skarr. At this point he was pretty visible, so I climbed down a little more, jumped off from a ledge, and then pulled one of my favorite moves EVAR – the cannonball mid-air falling CHARGE! Jump, falling, whoosh, WHAM right up in your face, and stunned to boot (probably in more ways than one)! Only pro warriors need apply.
And so, I don’t know why this would surprise me, but turns out, yeah, Skarr is about as batshit crazy as all the other Twilight people we’ve come across. As in, FUCKING COMPLETELY. The whole time I was fighting him he kept ranting and raving, and referring to himself in the third person – “Skarr” this, “Skarr” that – and so yeah, that settled the question of whether this was the right ogre, in case there ever was one. (And okay, let’s be fair, I guess it’s POSSIBLE he might not have been, and hoo boy, if it turned out he wasn’t, and I had charged and slammed him anyway, would my face have been red.) (No, wait, it wouldn’t. EXCEPT FROM THE BLOOD.) Anyway, he kept yammering on while we got to fighting, word salad half the time. We hacked away at each other, and he was hanging in there but really not posing much of a threat, when who should show up but the damn giant chimaera again. Swooped on in and starting breathing this freakish blue fire at me. Which really only sort of tickled a little, but it was annoying as hell.
Thing is, though, even that didn’t last too long. Because, you see, as it happens, Skarr wasn’t the only one with friends flying around the area, and, well, let me just put it this way:
Wyvern > Chimaera.
(Seriously, you should have seen Mortimer go to town on that thing. As a matter of fact, remind me to go into more detail about it later. You’ll thank me.)
So, it was back to me and Skarr, which being as it was a one-on-one fight now, really kind of left the fucking ogre outnumbered basically. I had him backed up to one of the ratty tents and was pretty obviously wearing him down, and at that point it was just a question of how to beat him without actually killing him, when all of a sudden I started feeling kind of weak in the legs. I stumbled a little, got my balance back, then went back to swinging at him…only my arms were feeling weaker now too. I damn near missed a parry on that huge fucking axe of his – and I NEVER have close calls like that. A couple more inches and he would have gotten my head. As I was pushing his axe back again – taking more effort that I should have needed, mind you – it hit me: the blade was poisoned. He hadn’t gotten a good hit on me the whole fight, but there had been a few glancing blows, just minor cuts really…but that would have been enough for the poison to take hold.
I took a second to reset my footing again, and you could tell he’d noticed I was off my game now, and he started pressing back more, and pushing me toward the hillside. I was still holding my own at this point, but it was taking more and more effort, and I could feel the poison kicking in and weakening me more. And I have to admit, as much as I know you have to stay focused in combat, I couldn’t help thinking how familiar it was.
So this is what it’s like to be on the other end of it.
Maybe I’ve had this coming. Maybe this is what balances the scales.
And right when I’m about ready to come out on the losing end of this one, cause of death: poetic justice, Skarr suddenly seizes up, locked in place with his head jerking up, then a second later splats down onto the ground unconscious, with Garona standing there behind him looking all proud of herself. Rogues and their sap-stun-kidney-shot-gouge-cheap-shot bullshit. Well, hey, I fucking wore him down for her first, so, you know.
We’ve just finished carrying him back to Stonemaul Hold. (And thank the spirits for that camel – that ogre was one HEAVY motherfucker.) We’ve got him detained in the main cave there, and we’ll be questioning him as soon as he comes to, and the camp apothecary hooks me up with a poultice to take care of the damn poison. Based on the word salad he was spouting out before, this should be interesting.
Hunting Skarr
Since I’m going to be out in the field on ogre duty the next couple days, I won’t be doing a mailbag today. Don’t worry, keep those e-mails coming, we’ll have one soon for sure. Meanwhile…
Garona and I split up on our way out of the Steam Pools resort. She disappeared off into the woods heading back into Feralas, and I took off by air with Mortimer. (For those of you keeping score, I had Mokvar go ahead to Stonemaul Hold to wait for us.)
It took a little circling around the Lower Wilds, but I ended up spotting the abandoned gnoll camp that the Twilights were talking about. There were a few tattered tents left standing among the hills, and a campfire tucked away in one corner under cover of trees and rocks, so it wasn’t letting off a lot of smoke that would be easily visible. On a couple passes I thought I could see some movement, but I tried not to get so close that I’d be noticed. Not yet, anyway. I wanted to get as good a look as I could at what we were going to be up against first.
On one circle around, I spotted some red and purple poking out from the foliage. No shock – a couple Twilight cultists, coming in from the northwest. Couldn’t get that good a look at them from the altitude I was at, but I could swear they were a dwarf and a troll, so they could have been the two that got away from me back at Isildien. Turns out it was a good thing I was keeping a good distance – after they were wandering through the woods some, all of a sudden there was this piercing shriek, and an enormous blue and white chimaera swooped in out of nowhere, grabbed the two Twilights up one in each talon, and flew off.
I followed the chimaera at a distance while it flew – you guessed it – back to the gnoll camp. This time, there wasn’t any question about whether someone was home. A pretty good-sized ogre in warlord’s armor was waiting at the edge of the camp. Place your bets among yourselves as to whether that would be Skarr. (Pro tip: Don’t bet your Vial of the Sands money that he’s not.) The chimaera flew in, dropped the two Twilights in front of the ogre, then hovered there nearby. I’m not positive but I think I even saw the ogre pat it on the head. From what I could see, it looked like the ogre and the Twilights were talking back and forth some, and then the ogre looked much more animated like something was upsetting him…then broke into this big laugh. The cultists meanwhile started seeming more jittery, and then broke out screaming about something just as Skarr waved his arm around in the air and walked away, and next thing you knew the chimaera was back on the cultists, grabbing them up again and flying off with them, screaming all the way, clear as day now.
So, again, some of these ogres really know how to get shit done.
I’ve just landed on the mountainside overlooking the camp, and I’m using Spazzle’s why-fly gizmo to make this post while I get set to pay our ogre friend a visit. No sign of Garona, but hey, since when do I need backup, right?
More soon.
[Header image provided by Angelya from Revive and Rejuvenate, used here with permission and many thanks.]
The story so far
I don’t know what’s wrong with you people. Everybody seemed overjoyed to see the kind of bullshit agony I had to endure the other day with Garona and Johnny Awesome and all the rest of it. Fuck, if I didn’t know better, I’d think maybe you people didn’t love your Warchief!
Anyway, Garona and I are getting ready to head off to go looking for that ogre Skarr, but while I’m getting squared away here at the inn, I thought I’d take care of some blog stuff. For one, I know the last couple days I’ve been getting a batch of new readers, between the Twitter feed and getting links passed around, so I figured it might be a good idea to try to catch up any newcomers to the blog.
First of all, if you ARE new, welcome! Lok’tar! Good to have you here. Unless you’re Alliance. In which case, DAMN YOU TO THE NETHER, FUCKERS. But meh, keep reading. What the hell.
Second, Spazzle recently added an About page to the blog, with some general info and background type stuff for anyone new. I know he usually tries to be good about setting up my posts with links to older ones that are relevant for background, but y’know, he’s just a goblin, so I’m sure he misses some stuff here and there. Also along those lines, I figured this might be a good time to step back and run through what’s been going on for our many new readers, seeing as this ogre business has been unfolding for a while:
A few weeks back, Grimtotem raiders in Dustwallow Marsh and Feralas started attacking ogres. I could care less about the Gordunni ogres, mind you, but it was a much bigger deal that they were also hitting the Stonemaul ogres too, who have been allied with the Horde for a while.
I sent Dontrag and Utvoch to Brackenwall Village to help Krog with his investigation. Using some…um…pro bait-and-trapping, the bunch of them were able to capture a Grimtotem raider, and interrogated him with help from me and the ogre seer Draz’Zilb. Wait, what am I talking about, “with help from”? They hardly did a damn thing during the interrogation. It was pretty much all me and Draz’Zilb.
Anyway, Draz’Zilb used some FUCKING SCARY-ASS voodoo mojo shit on the Grimtotem, and we got the story. The Grimtotem discovered that the Twilight’s Hammer want to use an ogre relic to resurrect Cho’gall. Apparently, while he was holding a gathering of ogres in Feralas a few months back, Cho’gall imbued a phylactery with his spirit (or part of it, or whatever…don’t ask me how this raise-the-dead stuff works…personally I’m getting sick of all the “Bastion of Twilight was just a setback” bullshit already). Now the Twilights are trying to find the phylactery, and the Grimtotem are trying to beat them to it. According to the prisoner, they believe if they find it first, they can cut some kind of deal with the Twilights to regain their lost holdings.
The Twilight’s Hammer believe one of the ogre clans in Feralas or Dustwallow have the phylactery, so the Grimtotem have been raiding the Gordunni and Stonemaul ogres to try to track it down. High-ranking members of the tribe have been sent to both areas to coordinate, but if you ask me this whole plan has Magatha written all over it.
We know the Stonemaul ogres don’t have the phylactery, but we’re letting the Grimtotem keep thinking they might so they keep their attention divided. Meanwhile, I recalled Garona Halforcen from Twilight Highlands, and she and I headed out to Feralas to investigate. I got some information from a Twilight’s Hammer cultist in the southern ogre camps, and Garona confirmed the story from a Twilight run-in of her own up at Dire Maul: the main Twilight contact in the area is an ogre named Skarr, who’s taken up hiding somewhere in the Lower Wilds.
Garona and I met up at the Steam Pools to compare notes and plan our next step. We also met this blood elf named Johnny Awesome while we were there, which was good for comic relief, if by “comic relief” you mean “makes you want to stick a sharp stick through your eye, into your brain, and swirl it around.” Now we’re about to split up to go after Skarr. With any luck we can find him and get more pieces to fall into place.
So…that’s where we stand now. Next time you hear from me, odds are I’ll be out in the Feralas wilds somewhere trying to track down Skarr. In the meantime, a little nugget to hold everyone over:
There once was a blood elf named Johnny,
Who thought himself ever so bonny.
To get him off my hands
I sent him to Ghostlands
Where he could annoy the Amani.
EPIC VERSE!
Updates soon. Stay tuned.
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
