Monthly Archives: December 2011

Awesome job, Mokvar


Well, Garona took her sweet time getting here, which shouldn’t really surprise me, to be honest. Yeah, sure, you’ll be there at the time we set to meet. And you’ll be ready to go out in just ten minutes, right? Same deal. Women.

While I was waiting, I sent word to Orgrimmar to have Mokvar come out to help with the recordkeeping. I figure with everything going on, I’ll want to keep a detailed account of all the information we collect, and so it just makes sense to keep my own in-house scribe around. It’s either that or take time out to write everything down myself, and let’s face it, my time is going to be better spent thinking great thoughts. Plus, let’s be honest, my handwriting is crap. Even by Mokvar standards.

Since Mokvar’s going to be transcribing a lot of stuff – notes, maps, details from our investigations, etc. – I’ve had Spazzle set him up to be able to edit these posts to add in any write-ups he thinks would be useful to add to the record here. Plus this way it spares me having to make sense of his godawful handwriting and take the time to transcribe it myself. (Just as long as he just inserts his stuff. I warned him that if he tries monkeying around with my actual writing, I’ll fucking hand his ass over to Draz’Zilb for whatever scary-ass voodoo experiments he might want to pull on him. And yes, I’m fucking territorial about my intellectual property.)

Anyway, though, she finally did show up, and we set up shop in the tavern of the inn to go over what we’ve found. She couldn’t find any traces of the phylactery itself, and she says the Maul is still a pretty big mess from when Cho’gall had held his ogre gathering. Turns out, though, she also had a run-in with some Twilights while she was there, and found them as easy to persuade as I did. Their story more or less matched mine: the ogre Skarr had been heading up their search around Dire Maul, but recently headed to the southern part of Feralas to set up camp. He left some of the other Twilight agents to keep looking for anything they could find around the Maul, with orders to check in with him. They didn’t have details on exactly where to find him, or else Garona was going to go pay him a visit herself – apparently Skarr just told them to go to the Lower Wilds, and he would find them if he needed them, whatever that means. Oh and here’s the best part – right when she was about to polish them off, some Grimtotem raiders showed up, fighting a bunch of the Gordunni ogres…so just as the bunch of them were almost on top of her and the Twilights, she just up and POOF-vanished, and left the whole gang of them to have at each other.

So, next up, we’re going to go searching for Skarr. We’ll split up on the way, since we don’t really know what he’s going to have there as far as backup. Garona’s going to stealth her way through the woods and see if she can do some spying on the way. (I offered her a camel she could take for the trip, but I guess she preferred to go by foot…) Meanwhile I’ll be doing a flyover to see what I can find, and then, you know, probably wind up taking the direct approach while she’s doing her snooping.

There were a lot of little odds and ends that the two of us had to update each other on, and some what-ifs to plan for for the next few days, so we ended up spending a while there in the tavern. Credit where it’s due, those goblins have some pretty good cooks on payroll. While we were there, we also had a run-in with this blood elf guy who was just kind of wandering back and forth from the bar, babbling on about his dead pony or something, but the less said about him the better.


GARROSH: Hold up. Have you noticed the blood elf guy who keeps looking over this way?

GARONA: Every few minutes. He keeps looking at us, then looking away when one of us looks back.

GARROSH: Think he’s a spy or something?

GARONA: Not likely. The Grimtotem wouldn’t trust an outsider, so they wouldn’t bring in a blood elf to spy for them. The Twilight’s Hammer would get someone who was competent enough not to just sit out in the open staring at his quarry. So who else? The Alliance? Some from column A, some from column B, no-go there.

GARROSH: Can you tell if he’s watching one of us in particular?

GARONA: I’m not sure. Do you think he’s looking at me?

GARROSH: I don’t know, that’s why I asked.

GARONA: Ugh, I hope he’s not going to come over to try to pick me up.

GARROSH: Why would you think he’s going to…oh never mind.

GARONA: Why? You don’t think he would? It’s not like I don’t ever have men stare at me in bars, you know.

GARROSH: Yeah, no, I’m sure they do.

GARONA: You sound like you don’t believe me!

GARROSH: I didn’t say that!

GARONA: I’ll have you know I get hit on all the damn time!

GARROSH: I’m not arguing with you, dammit!

GARONA: Just because I have a grown son doesn’t mean I’m some old lady, you know!

GARROSH: Oh for fuck’s sake, can we not go through another whole song and dance about your kid?

GARONA: Oh, sure, who wants some old worn-out orc who’s already pumped out a kid, is that it?  You men are all alike.

GARROSH: When the fuck did I even say anything? I’ve got no problem with you having a kid, go ahead, have your kid, have more kids, have a whole barn of them, I don’t give a shit!

GARONA: Well you sure made it sound like some wrinkled old matron like me certainly couldn’t be catching the eye of some spry young elf in a bar.

GARROSH: I didn’t say any such damn thing! Fuck! Look, hell, there’s a REASON why the term “MILF” got coined in the first place, okay?

GARONA: So you think I’m pretty?



GARROSH: I’m thinking.

GARONA: What do you mean, you’re thinking? What’s there to think about? Either you think I’m pretty or you don’t! You know, if you have to THINK about it—

GARROSH: I’m trying to think of what answer is LEAST likely to get me stabbed in my sleep later on.

GARONA: And what makes you think I’m going to be nearby when you’re asleep in your bed?

GARROSH: <facepalm>

GARONA: Because honey, don’t flatter yourself.



GARROSH: Lady, you are one great big can of crazy, you know that?

GARONA: What’s THAT supposed to mean?

GARROSH: Can we PLEASE get back to the guy who’s watching us, or the Grimtotem thing, or maybe even just beat my head in with a brick because even that would be less excruciating than what we’re doing now?

GARONA: You know, there are a lot of men who’d be thrilled to be talking with me over a few flagons.

GARROSH: Oh for FUCK’S sake!

GARONA: I’m just saying. Lots and lots. You have no idea.

GARROSH: Could you maybe call them all over here to beat me in the head until I lose all memory of this conversation?

GARONA: Fine, BE that way.


GARONA: You think he’s looking at me?

GARROSH: I hope the hell he is. Maybe he can sweep you away and give me the glorious treat of your absence.

GARONA: Well now you’re just being passive-aggressive.

GARROSH: It’s a goddamn good thing for you that you’re genuinely good in a fight, that’s all I’m going to say.

GARONA: I’m just trying to help you. You know you’re never going to find a girl if you keep up with this attitude.

GARROSH: Tell me something, when you assassinated Llane, did you actually have to kill him? Or did you just strike up a conversation with him and keep talking until he threw himself on your daggers?

GARONA: He wouldn’t have been the first man to throw himself at me, I’ll tell you that much right now.

GARROSH: THE ELF, for fuck’s sake, THE FUCKING ELF, before I squeeze my head down another hat size trying to cover my ears again!

GARONA: Fine, then!

The blood elf, by this point, has wandered over closer to the table.

BLOOD ELF: Um, excuse me?

GARROSH: Oh thank goodness.

BLOOD ELF: Am I interrupting something?

GARROSH: Yes, you are, and spirits bless you for it. Can I buy you a drink? A round of drinks? And an epic mount of your choosing?

BLOOD ELF: Oh…no, no, you see, my pony only just recently…passed… <sniffle> It’s just too soon. Plus…um…well, I mean, it’s a flattering offer, but I don’t…you know…swing that way, so…

GARROSH: Well hold on, I didn’t…

GARONA:  <eyes widen> Ohhh, wait a minute, NOW it’s making more sense…

GARROSH: Plus you’re a male blood elf, what do you mean you…oh never mind.

BLOOD ELF: What does that mean?

GARONA: I’m so, so sorry. I should have realized.

GARROSH: Will you SHUT IT? That’s not what I fucking meant.

GARONA: No WONDER you’re so angry all the time.


GARONA: Mmhmm.

GARROSH: Look, can we drop the… <looks to Mokvar> Are you seriously writing all that down?

MOKVAR: Well, um, yes, sir. You said I should keep a record of everything.

GARROSH: <blink> I…just… Wow.

MOKVAR: Begging your pardon, sir, you did say we need to keep everything written down in case some easily overlooked details end up being important later.

GARROSH: You win, Thrall. Oh, man, you really, really win. Good one, dude. Hats off to you. You win.

GARONA: Now see, THRALL found himself a nice girl, and see what he did?


MOKVAR: Sounds like marriage to me, sir.

GARROSH: Heh, yeah, amen, Mokvar.

GARONA: Mmhmm. Interesting.

BLOOD ELF: Should I just…leave…?

GARROSH: For the love of the spirits, NO.

BLOOD ELF: It’s just that, well, I couldn’t help but notice…

GARONA: You see! He was looking at me!

GARROSH: <looks to elf> Run now.

BLOOD ELF: Well no, I was looking at her.


BLOOD ELF: I was looking at both of you, actually.

GARONA: You…wait, what?

GARROSH: I think what he means—

GARONA: Oh no, no, sweetie, I… No, I don’t do those anymore.

GARROSH: <rubbing head> I seriously don’t know if I want to stop the Twilight’s Hammer from destroying the world anymore.

BLOOD ELF: I’m…confused.

GARROSH: Give her a few minutes. It gets worse.

GARONA: But I’m not sure why you’d be interested in getting Garrosh involved, if you say you don’t—

BLOOD ELF: So you ARE Garrosh! Garrosh Hellscream? The Warchief?

GARROSH: Yeah, that’s me. What of it? And please elaborate at length if it stops her from chiming in for a while.

BLOOD ELF: And so you must be Garona Halforcen?

GARROSH: Oh good, kick it over to her right away. Well played.

GARONA: That’s me, yes.

BLOOD ELF: <beaming> Oh wow, I can’t believe I’m really getting to meet you! This really is an honor for me!

GARROSH: Uh oh. Fanboy alert.

BLOOD ELF: And, if I say so myself, for it to be an honor for me really is quite the honor for YOU, too. It’s not just anyone who can impress me right off like that.



BLOOD ELF: You see, I’ve been making quite a name for myself within the Horde as well. I’ll have you know, I was an exalted hero of Tranquillien within a few mere hours of arriving at the place!

GARROSH: Wait, Tranq-what-now?

BLOOD ELF: And granted, I really haven’t had occasion to drop by Orgrimmar to meet you in person, Warchief, but I’m sure tales of my adventures have made their way all the way to your war room.

GARROSH: Um, maybe? Oh…OH, so wait, you’re one of those…yeah, one of the… up-and-coming adventurers that we send off of various missions in the outlying zones… Right…

GARONA: I thought you said those quests weren’t really all that—

GARROSH: Ix-nay on the usywork-bay.

GARONA: Oh. Right.

GARROSH: Anyway, um, so yeah, maybe I’ve seen reports on your…exploits… Um, what was your name again?

BLOOD ELF: I…am Johnny Awesome.

[The Blood Elf will henceforth be referenced as Johnny Awesome, because really, this is just too good. –Mkvr., ed.]

GARROSH: No, I can’t say I – wait, that’s your name?


GARROSH: No, I mean, it’s your real name? Not like an alias you made up for yourself?

JOHNNY AWESOME: No, it’s my name.

GARROSH: Your parents are Mr. and Mrs. Awesome.

JOHNNY AWESOME: It’s an old Highborn name. It goes back thousands of years.

GARROSH: Uh huh.

GARONA: It’s a wonder things didn’t work out better for Azshara if she had the Awesomes working for her.

GARROSH: <chortle>

JOHNNY AWESOME: It’s…it’s true.

GARROSH: I’m sure it is.

GARONA: If only she could have had her field troops led by Jimmy Omgipwnedurface.

GARROSH: <snicker> Haha, you know, I think I know a guy on Earth Online who uses that name.

GARONA: Oh wow, you play Earth Online too?

GARROSH: Yeah. You play? What server?

GARONA: Palin, Kalimdor region. You?

GARROSH: Goldwater-Kalimdor. Hah, that’s awesome.

GARONA: Med’an got me started on it. I really only started playing originally just to check in on what he was doing. You know how it is with the internet.

GARROSH: Yeah, yeah, that makes sense. Can’t be too careful.

GARONA: Although I have to admit it’s really starting to annoy me that they broke the mature language filter so you can’t keep it turned off now!

GARROSH: Oh I KNOW, right? That’s !@#$ing ANNOYING.

GARONA: I mean I’m an ADULT, if I want to talk like one I should be able to.

GARROSH: What do you think of the expansion? Have you seen much about it?

GARONA: I don’t know. I’m cautiously optimistic.

GARROSH: Oh come on. Australians? They’re seriously making a whole expansion about Australians?

GARONA: Well you know, to be fair, it’s not like they’ve never taken a joke and used it seriously before. People forget that Canada was originally a running gag too, and look how well they integrated that.

GARROSH: Yeah, I suppose…

JOHNNY AWESOME: I…have no idea what you two are talking about.

GARROSH: Online gaming.

JOHNNY AWESOME: You actually do that?

GARONA: Is that a problem?

JOHNNY AWESOME: It’s just…I guess I just sort of figured you guys would be…a little cooler than that.

GARROSH: Excuse me, do you really want to get into a coolness pissing contest with us?

JOHNNY AWESOME: Well I just mean…

GARROSH: Do you really want to? Because if you want to go, we can go.

JOHNNY AWESOME: Well no, it’s just that…I mean, come on, an MMO?

GARROSH: So let’s see, commanded fifteen Kor’kron legions on a military campaign across the arctic wastes culminating in the death of the fucking Lich King. Shall we start there?

GARONA: Single-handedly assassinated the king of Stormwind?

GARROSH: Also a good one.

JOHNNY AWESOME: Look, I’m not trying to—

GARROSH: Son of the slayer of Mannoroth.

GARONA: Mother of the new Guardian of Tirisfal.

GARROSH: Crash landed an airship in Twilight Highlands and walked away without a scratch.

GARONA: Killed Cho’gall. The first time.

GARROSH: Dueled Thrall to a standstill.

GARONA: Fucked Medivh.

JOHNNY AWESOME: Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!

GARROSH: That’s better. So anyway, was there a point to all this?

JOHNNY AWESOME: Oh… Well, I guess I was just wondering if I could have your autographs.

GARROSH: Our…autographs.

GARONA: I don’t know, would you really want the autographs of a couple of lame online gamers?

JOHNNY AWESOME: I know, look, I’m sorry. It’s just, you’re both heroes of the Horde, and…you know…that’s what I’m aspiring to, too, so…

GARROSH: Okay, okay, fine… <scribbles on paper>

JOHNNY AWESOME: Well, and I guess I was also wondering, since I like to think I’m a rising star in the Horde, really one of your secret weapons when you come right down to it, even if I guess you haven’t heard of me yet, which really doesn’t seem to make a whole lot of sense, but whatever, but I was just thinking—

GARROSH: Get to the point, please, Tirion.

JOHNNY AWESOME: Well, I was just wondering if you had any missions you might need me to carry out for you.

GARROSH: Missions.

JOHNNY AWESOME: I mean I know there are lots of people scattered around Horde settlements who need help with different things, and don’t get me wrong, I’m happy to help out where I can, but it just seems to me that my talents could be better used by, you know, performing key duties on behalf of the Warchief.

GARROSH: Uh huh.

JOHNNY AWESOME: So…are there any missions you need carried out? Or places you feel I could be of particular help?

GARROSH: Um…okay…

GARONA: Time to get into character.

GARROSH: Yeah. <deep breath> Lok’tar, noble blood elf, tales of your valiant deeds have carried even to Orgrimmar—

JOHNNY AWESOME: Wait, didn’t you just say you haven’t heard—

GARROSH: Just fucking roll with it, okay, dude? Seriously.

JOHNNY AWESOME: Okay. Yes, sir.

GARROSH: Tales of your valiant deeds have carried even to Orgrimmar, and rest assured they have not escaped the notice of your Warchief. If you wish to truly serve the Horde, your considerable powers could be used in Thousand Needles, or, um, Tanaris. The choice is yours. Remember, Hellscream’s eyes are always upon you!

JOHNNY AWESOME: Yes sir! I won’t let you down, sir!

Johnny Awesome races off, never, one can only hope, to be heard from again.

GARROSH: I really fucking hate my job sometimes.

GARONA: Wait, Thousand Needles and Tanaris?

GARROSH: Yeah, what of it?

GARONA: Well…he didn’t look like he’s been doing this for very long. Aren’t those areas pretty dangerous these days?

GARROSH: Yes, and?

GARONA: Isn’t he going to go out there and get eviscerated?

GARROSH: Yes, and?


Wait, so hold on. I had a five-hour strategy session with Garona, and THIS is what Mokvar decided was important enough to post up here? Seriously? THIS is what made the cut?

Either way, though, gotta say again, it’s DAMN impressive that he’s able to get all this stuff transcribed like that. Really, really impressive.

Now pardon me while I go find him and smack him around a little.



[Header image provided by regular reader and commenter ZugZug, used here with permission and many thanks.]


Camel Horde-r


Writing this from the Steam Pools. The settlement by the pools is actually a resort run by goblins out of Gadgetzan…pretty pricey, actually, although you’d be surprised the deals you can get when you beat three or four members of the staff within an inch of their lives. (And by an inch of their lives, by the way, I mean a total sum of an inch between the lot of them.) Best deals anywhere indeed!

On the way up here I actually thought I might have stumbled onto another lead with the whole Twilight thing. As I was flying over the pools, I spotted an oversized ettin wandering around, and since I know the Twilight’s Hammer people have ettins working for them, I went in to check on it. Turns out this particular ettin – huge one too – was pretty irritable, and started giving me some incoherent-grunting lip, so I had to smack him down a couple times. Or three. Or nine. Or, well, however many it was until he stopped breathing. Moral of story, people need to stop being so hostile when I’m in the neighborhood. I mean, if you take the first swing, I’m GOING to take the last swing. Granted, if I take the first swing, I’m going to take the last swing, too…but looking at it that way, pretty much the only way you’re even going to have a CHANCE at ending up body-bag-free if to hold back, cross your fingers, and hope I’m not looking to start something. It’s really just about the math.

Anyway, punch line is, the ettin dude was carrying around some gray camel on his back (yeah, I know, I TOLD you he was big), so when I dropped him, he dropped the camel, which then took a shine to me and started following me around. So I had to lead it on back to the resort and stable it there. The thing still seems pretty attached, so I might end up taking it back to Orgrimmar later on, but damned if I know what to feed a fucking camel.

I’m checked in now at the inn. Garona should be here soon to compare notes. Updates to follow.


Gordunni leads


I’ll give these Stonemaul ogres credit, they’re plenty loyal since the Horde’s been helping them. Not too much going on upstairs, but hey. Thank goodness we have orcs like Orhan Ogreblade here at Stonemaul Hold, though, or spirits know what kind of a mess these ogres would make of the place. At least the ogres out at Brackenwall have that brainstorm Draz’Zilb to help stay on top of things. Even if he IS fucking evil. Again, like I’ve said before, at least he gets shit done.

I stopped briefly at Stonemaul Hold and checked in with Orhan and the others. The Grimtotem have still been at it, with most of their activity seeming to be around Dire Maul now. The ogre camps to the south still needed checking on from our end, though, so I flew down there and got to looking around the ruins of Isildien. The ruins are still…well…ruiny, because of course when ogres move into a place, it never occurs to them to fix it up at all. Then again, I guess it’s hard to focus in on home improvement when you’ve got tauren raiding parties running in and smacking you around.

It was pretty obvious that the Grimtotem had attacked the ogres there, even if they’ve started focusing more on the ogres up north. There were a few scattered bodies of Grimtotem raiders around the ruins. Gotta admit, the sight gave me a happy. A few ogre corpses, too, but not all that many. I’m not sure if that’s because the Grimtotem took heavier casualties from the attacks, or because the ogres just make a point of tending to their dead. What do ogres even do with their dead, anyway? I don’t really see them as the memorial service type. Not really up on ogre customs in general, though, much less Gordunni ones.

I kept trying to talk to the ogres to see if I could get some information out of them, but as it turns out, this particular bunch of them is pretty pissy, so instead of talking they mostly wanted to swing clubs at me. Which meant they DID end up doing some talking, only what they were saying was mostly “Ouch” and “I wonder if there really IS an Ogri’la.” So, fun, but not very productive.

While I was flying over the area I did spot this cave in the side of the mountains, and it looked like there were ogre corpses around the outside – a lot more than I’d seen anywhere else around the ruins – so I went in to check. The cave didn’t run very deep, and I could see some light coming from the inside, and some humanoid looking shadows as I made my way toward the back. I tried being stealthy and sneaking in to check it out, but I think I might have blown the sneaky thing when I ran around the corner and yelled “WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU PEOPLE” and charged the first dude I saw. Oh well. Gotta be me. Anyway, turns out it was a pack of three humans, a troll, and a dwarf, all chilling around a campfire, and based on what’s been going on lately and the dark purple and red robes they all had on, you can probably guess out who they were working for. So the charging turned out to be a good call anyway. I killed two of the humans right off (gotta tell you, it never gets old), but the dwarf dropped a smoke bomb and the other three high-tailed it out of the cave. I managed to jump back onto them and hamstring the last human, but I wasn’t able to get to the dwarf or troll before they took off into the hills.

The human, though… He was useful while he lasted. Unlike the Grimtotem raider in Dustwallow, this one didn’t need a whole lot of persuading to talk. Then again, humans do tend to be less resistant to a good beating. If anything, I had to be careful not to kill him (right away).

As it turns out, his little band had been dispatched by the Twilight’s Hammer – no shock there – to look into the Gordunni settlement in Isildien, then make contact with their point man in the area, an ogre named Skarr who had been one of Cho’gall’s people when he was lining up his original ogre gathering in the Maul. Whatever they found, they were supposed to check in with him at an abandoned gnoll camp in the eastern part of the woods, tucked away in the hills. Anything they could find out about the phylactery, they were supposed to report to Skarr, so I’m figuring he’s the one we need to pin down if we want to head off this whole Twilight plan. Beyond that, the human didn’t seem to know a whole lot more – for all the dead ogres around their hiding place, they didn’t seem to find any actual information – and I don’t think he was just holding out on me, since I’m pretty sure that would have called for sterner stuff than these humans are made of. So, you know, dead human. I’ve got work to do, and a nonessential captive is only going to slow me down.

Next move is to try to track down Skarr in the eastern hills, but first I’m going to check in with Garona to see what she’s found. As it happens, there’s a small settlement – if you want to call it that – by the Steam Pools just south of here, only a teensy side trip on the way to the Lower Wilds, so we’re going to meet up there to compare notes. I’ll write more once we’ve had a chance to get settled.



[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!]


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…


To Garrosh Hellscream:

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…


Warchief Hellscream,

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…


To Garrosh Hellscream:

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?


Dear mortal,

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?


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.


Argent Gossip Girl


At long last, a little something for you to enjoy while I go look into matters in Feralas.  My latest creation, BECAUSE YOU DEMANDED IT!


High Argent Confessor,
They call me that these days.
Once I was just Paletress,
No difference either way:
Just a simple Elwynn girl
Who joined the Argent Dawn;
I heard what would await me,
And baby, I was gone.
Truth is, I was not inspired
By service to the Light;
Nor did loathing of the Scourge
Compel me to the fight.
But to be a confessor?
To hear folks’ guilt and hurt?
I’ll comfort countless weary souls—
And hear some juicy dirt!
Confessions are in secret,
But wine is like truth serum;
And since you’re buying, between us,
I guess that you could hear ’em.

* * * * *

Mighty Warchief of the Horde,
Thrall: admired, revered, adored.
Blue-eyed orc,
Still a dork,
Way too straight and narrow.
Goody-two-shoes to the last:
Too few scandals in his past;
Worth adoring,
But so boring!
Straight A’s at Caer Darrow. 

You should have some better stories,
Tales of blood and rage and glory!
Not a one?
You’re no fun.
Such wasted potential!
Green skin marked by fiendish fel stream;
Kill a pit lord, raise some Hellscream,
Drink and brawl,
Listen, Thrall,
You need badass credentials!

You’re a mighty shaman, true,
But people won’t be scared of you
When as bad
As you’ve had
Is library past-due.
Kick some ass and take some names.
Give me something; this is lame.
Clark Kent, drat.
(Wait, who’s that?)
Green, but you can work blue.

To be fair, such trials to weather,
You had to have your shit together.
Freed the clans,
Fought the man,
Birthright to reclaim, huh?
Maybe memory’s mildly muddy
From being Saurfang’s drinking buddy?
But if not,
Well, nice thought.
At least, hey, you banged Jaina.

* * * * *

Where’ve you been?
Hiding with the Frostborn.
Tale belied:
Thought you’d died
When the prince found Frostmourne.
Pain and grief,
Such relief
To know that you’re not dead.
Slick respawn:
Mem’ries gone
From when you bonked your head.

At least that’s what you tell them now.
Cover story?  Yes, and how.
You come to me
To unburden your spirit.
Really you just wanted out
From all the guilt and fear and doubt;
Plagued your mind,
What they’d find
And what they’d do to hear it.

Back when Moira went away
Dragged to BRD, they say.
Was the man,
At least you let them think.
Now she’s joined the Dark Iron coven,
Little dwarf bun in the oven,
But forsooth,
Want the truth?
You’d better grab a drink.

Bronzebeard scandal – yeah, you guessed it.
You two went and straight incest’d it.
Yes you did.
Dagran’s kid?
That tale is kind of fishy.
She went hiding in the depths
While you by arctic winds were swept:
Better dead
Than inbred,
Except you’re not that squishy.

What a sin!
Knocking up your niece.
When he grows,
Has twelve toes:
A conversation piece.
So reviled,
Punishment exquisite:
Chaste you’ve kept
(Well, except
When Jaina came to visit).

* * * * *

Tirion the Argent Highlord!
Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.
Truth be told, I cannot afford
Losing this job; so do I dare
Spill the beans on Fordring?  Listen—
When we blab, he takes our heads off.
But I see the wine glass glisten—
Top it off once and all bets off.

Just a little more,
Pour it to the brim.
Here’s what you came for:
All the dirt on him.

Holy Light, that man’s insane!
Really, you would never guess it.
Hunting penguins with a cane—
Half the time he’ll even bless it.
Every day he staggers in
Angry-drunk and spewing rage.
Let him spot you, he’ll begin
To curse you out and act deranged.

Did I tell you what he did
The one time Eadric raised his voice?
Let’s just say he can’t have kids:
Eadric’s not “the Pure” by choice.
He steadfastly will refuse
To dine without his lucky mittens;
Mention Arthas, blow his fuse,
And he’ll go set fire to kittens.

If you are a lass
Don’t give him the chance
To grab at your ass.
(He won’t let me wear pants.)

I love the stories that I hear,
All the scandals, sleaze, and strife;
But I swear with Tirion near
I honestly fear for my life.
He’s unstable, he’s a loon,
Loud and lewd with vices diffuse.
Hunting Scourge and hunting poon:
Talk to Jaina.  (Daddy issues…)

* * * * *

Honored heir of House of Wrynn,
Varian, where to begin?
Stormwind’s king,
Touchy thing:
Temper, temper, sire.
First Cathedral of the Light,
Robs the coffers, then takes flight.
Just you wait,
Off’ring plate:
Empty.  Yep, it’s dire.

Why so angry?  Why destroy
The Church he’d served as altar boy?
Years ago,
Don’t you know,
Reading age for Highlights:
Benedictus, pastor then,
Spotted one young Varian,
Oh so sad,
Showed the lad
An early Hour of Twilight.

Ever since then, he’s been damaged;
Bloody miracle he managed
To perform
So was born
A son to House of Wrynn.
Don’t know how hard Tiffin tried;
Virginal king since she died.
Jaina?  Nay.
That fine day
Was saved for Anduin.

(Fuck you, Varian.)

* * * * *

No more wine?
Okay, fine.
No more stories, then!
Change your mind?
Till next time!
I’m sure we’ll meet again.

When you pour,
I’ll tell more.
No need to make a fuss.
But don’t fear,
Jaina dear,
That weekend’s between us.




So here’s the plan


Or the beginning of it, anyway. We know that the Grimtotem are hunting down ogres in Dustwallow Marsh and Feralas to try to find the phylactery of Cho’gall. Obviously, we have to make sure they don’t get it.

Since we pretty much know that the Stonemaul ogres don’t have it (see, it helps when half the equation is on your payroll!), we’re going to focus on Feralas. Hopefully the fact that we can eliminate half the possible locations of the phylactery will help us get a jump on the Grimtotem and the Twilight’s Hammer in finding it. Anyway, Garona is heading up to Dire Maul as we speak to scour the place and see if she can find any leads. Meanwhile, I’m going to be flying down to the southern Gordunni ogre camps to see what I can find there.

While all this is going on, I’m keeping Krog and Dontrag and Utvoch working in Dustwallow on a decoy project. Right now, as far as we know, the Grimtotem still think that the Stonemaul ogres might have the phylactery, and the longer we keep them wasting time and energy barking up that tree, the better for all of us. So I’m having the gang at Brackenwall putting up the appearance that our ogres really might have the thingamajig. Apparently Draz’Zilb has some kind of hocus-pocus he can do to help along those lines. I didn’t ask him for details, because honestly, dude is a scary motherfucker, so yeah.

For the time being we’re going to try to keep this job limited to the inner circle who are already in the know, so we can keep a limit on how quickly word of all this gets around. Last thing we need is for the Grimtotem or Twilight’s Hammer to be tipped off to what we’re doing.

Come to think of it, though, if I really wanted to keep a lid on all this, I probably shouldn’t have been blogging about it at length all this time. Including this installment right here. Oops. Oh well. Hey there, water, the bridge says hi and bye from above.

Mortimer’s ready to go. More updates soon.


Quick update


Like the title says, just a quick update so you, my fans and minions, won’t think I’ve forgotten about you. Very busy the last few days, with Garona arriving and the whole lot of us spending a lot of time hashing out what to do about the Cho’gall situation. And as expected, she’s been going all bipolar about it – I swear you wouldn’t believe someone could be that vengeful and whiny at the same time.

Anyway, that’s been keeping me occupied, and hopefully I’ll have some more news soon on that front, but in the meantime I haven’t had much time to check on my mail, which would be why there was no mailbag this week. Keep your letters coming, though, and I’ll try to get to them soon.

Also in the in-case-you-thought-I-forgot file, my readers’ choice for my next EPIC VERSE is definitely high on my to-do list. The results are in, and I have to say I was a little surprised at what you guys picked as your topic. But I’m an orc of my word, and a new masterpiece will be on the way soon.




Garona’s on her way from Twilight Highlands to be briefed on the whole situation with the ogres and the Grimtotem and the Twilight’s Hammer and the WTF. From what I’m told all she really needed to hear was “Cho’gall” and she was already packing. Gotta say, if we do nip this Cho’gall thing in the bud, I really hope she doesn’t go all Maiev-post-mortem-Illidan on us. She’s high-maintenance enough as it is, let me tell you. Anyway, she should be here soon, so we can get to work on the Cho’gall problem, assuming we keep enough mood-balancing potions on hand. (Seriously, you have no idea.)

Thing is, though, I’ve been thinking about what the Grimtotem told us in Brackenwall. And I just realized – he said that the Dustwallow Grimtotem were put on the ogres by Isha Gloomaxe, and the Feralas Grimtotem were being directed by Arnak Grimtotem…and we know they’re two of the highest-ranking members of the whole Grimtotem tribe.  Which means, if there’s some scheme in the works, and the two of them are out coordinating, smart money says there’s only one place the overall plan could have come from.


And yeah, don’t get me started.

You know what? Never mind. I’m already started.

Look, I know people say I can be pretty cranky at times. And I’m not going to deny I’ve got a temper. There are lots of things that irritate me and a lot of people that piss me off. I’ve got no use for gnomes, and I think we’ve established how I feel about humans. Doubly so for a lot of specific humans – I’m looking right at you, Varian (also: fuck you), and I’m not too crazy about Tirion or Rhonin, either. Even closer to home, Vol’jin annoys the living shit out of me, and I still say Sylvanas desperately needs someone to take her down a peg or two to knock her off her snooty pedestal. But for all of my ranting, the list of people I really, truly, profoundly HATE is actually a pretty short one.

I hate Magatha Grimtotem.

It’s not just that she played me for a fool and basically turned me into a weapon to use against Cairne. It’s not even just her betrayal of her own people, plotting against her chieftain and throwing the entire tauren civilization into turmoil. It’s partly those things, but even those are small potatoes.

It’s that she robbed us. Cheated us. All of us – of so many things, on so many levels. She robbed us in ways that are so complicated, and overlap so much, I’m not even sure I can untangle them all. But here we go…Eitrigg told me forever ago that this blog might be helpful for hashing things like this, so it’s time to see if he was right.

She robbed the tauren of one of their greatest leaders. Hell, she robbed the HORDE of one of its greatest leaders. She robbed Baine of a father. She cheated all of us out of whatever time we would otherwise have had with him by our side.

Not to mention that she robbed me of my honor. My mak’gora duel with Cairne was meant to be honorable combat, two evenly matched warriors, armed with a single weapon and nothing else. By poisoning my blade, she put a shadow over me and forced me to spend the rest of my days hearing questions whispered behind my back about treachery and deceit and dishonor. Cairne’s death will haunt me for as long as I live. I wrote this to Magatha herself once when she called on me for aid: I deserved to fight Cairne honorably, to win or lose on my own merits. If I died, so be it. An honorable death is far better than a tainted victory. But this? What glory is there in defeating an opponent through trickery? In standing over a weakened, dying body that should still be battling strongly?

Because here’s the part that will never stop eating at me. You guys are all friends, so I guess I may as well come out and say it, because it’s not like it isn’t something you already know if you were there for the duel.

Before the poison took effect, Cairne was beating me. And I mean badly. I’m not going to try to dance around it at all – that old tauren was absolutely handing me my ass. I was just barely keeping it together when I landed the glancing blow that poisoned him. And then the venom kicked in. And that was it. There’s no two ways about it: if something hadn’t weakened him, there’s absolutely no way I was going to pull a comeback.

I should be dead. And Cairne should be Warchief.

And right there is the worst of the ways that she robbed us. She didn’t just deprive the Horde of one of its wisest voices. She robbed us of our rightful leader. The point of the mak’gora is “victory to the strongest”…and she managed to turn that on its head. (Hell, it’s like if someone rigged one of those Earth Online competitions for faction leader so that one guy won the contest, but the other guy got to be leader on a technicality or something.) And so now, every crisis we come to, we’re forced to face it without the leadership that Cairne would have provided. It’s one reason why, to be totally honest with you, many times when I’ve been faced with a decision, I try to think of what Cairne would have done in my place. (Not often enough, if I’m really honest.) Because on a really basic level, I feel like I’m serving as Warchief in his stead – serving out HIS term.

And all of this because of Magatha. And now she’s finding new and better ways to betray us all.

She duped me into killing one of the greatest among us, a man I admired and didn’t even want to fight in the first place. She stood right there and watched me do it, then had the gall to think I should be grateful to her for it. And if I ever find her, she’s going to have a front-row seat for what happens when I get my hands on someone I utterly, violently DESPISE.

And on the off chance you’re reading this, Magatha, this is the part where you run. Keep running. Don’t ever stop.



[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!]


They couldn’t have just been bored and jerkish…


Okay, so now I’m getting worried.

I’ve spent the day in Brackenwall Village with Krog, Dontrag and Utvoch, and the ogre seer Draz’Zilb, all working on getting some information from the Grimtotem prisoner. Things really weren’t going anywhere for the longest time…I’ll give this Grimtotem credit, he had a really strong will, and even after I was giving him a pretty sound beating, he wouldn’t make so much as a peep. Or a moo, I guess.

This was another one of those cases where I don’t want to lose any details, so I had Mokvar come with me to Brackenwall so he can keep a transcript of the interrogation. Glad I had him go train up inscription, gotta say. So, here’s the record of the session, at least after the first couple hours of me smacking the fucker around without much gain…


GARROSH: Okay, so you know, as much as I’m enjoying beating on this guy, I don’t think it’s really getting us anywhere.

KROG: Maybe we just need more knives? I’m pretty fond of knives myself.

GARROSH: Better than a good sound barefisted thrashing?

KROG: Oh yeah, a good clean stab can be way satisfying. Knives and daggers, either way.

GARROSH: Well yeah, but you’re a rogue. That doesn’t help us with this.

KROG: What do you mean?

GARROSH: You’ll just end up stun-locking him. It doesn’t do us any good at all if we’re just keeping him silenced.

DONTRAG: Rest assured, great Warchief, we shall find ways to make him talk!

UTVOCH: Or a great inconceivable agony will await him!

DONTRAG: Far greater than his worst imaginings!

GARROSH: THESE two, on the other hand…

UTVOCH: What about us, Warchief?

GARROSH: Never mind.

KROG: <chortle>

DONTRAG: No, really.

UTVOCH: Maybe just let it go, Dontrag?

DONTRAG: I just want to understand what the Warchief is talking about.

GARROSH: Yeah, good luck there.

KROG: <snort>

DONTRAG: As you say, sir…

KROG: Seriously, where did you find these two?

GARROSHStuck in a mine in Stonetalon.

UTVOCH: Where we carried out our duty for the Horde most proudly!

DONTRAG: For the glory of the Horde! For the glory of Hellscream!

KROG: Yeah, I’m sure.

GARROSH: Well they were helpful at the time. Kind of.

KROG: Yeah, thanks for getting them involved with this.

GARROSH: Would you rather be working on this with just a bunch of ogres helping you?


GARROSH: No offense, Draz’Zilb.

KROG: Actually, I’m not sure I’m seeing the improvement.

GARROSH: Oh come on. OGRES?

DRAZ’ZILB: Um, I’m standing RIGHT HERE.

GARROSH: Did you miss the “no offense” part?

DONTRAG: I did not, Warchief!

UTVOCH: Indeed and verily, nor did I, oh great—

GARROSH: Not YOU, for FUCK’S sake.

KROG: See what I mean?

GARROSH: Yeah, fine, whatever.

DRAZ’ZILB: Chief Hellscream, not to interrupt, but I believe I may have a method that may facilitate the extrication of vital intelligence from our captive.

GARROSH: Look, he’s being uncooperative enough, there’s no point in making him stupid too so he can’t even understand what I’m asking him.

DRAZ’ZILB: Um…no. What I mean, great Chief, is I may have a spell I can use to force the information from him, willingly or not.

GARROSH: Well why didn’t you say so? Hell, for that matter, why didn’t you guys do this before I had to fly all the way down here?

DRAZ’ZILB: The incantation required a number of reagents, Chief. Some helpful adventurers only just delivered them a short while ago.

GARROSH: Good, so— wait, you actually needed that shit? Like the “go get seven of these and nine of those” that we always send those noobs around to collect? You mean you actually sent the volunteer errand boys out to do something that was really important?

DRAZ’ZILB: Why…would I occupy others’ valuable time on tasks that were not of some genuine vital interest to us, great Chief?

GARROSH: <blink> …Shit, you ogres have a lot to learn.

UTVOCH: I know a good place they could go for extension courses, if they—


UTVOCH: Yes sir.

DONTRAG: Stop interrupting the Warchief, for goodness’ sake!

GARROSH: The same goes for you!

DONTRAG: Yes sir.

UTVOCH: Apologies, sir.

DONTRAG: Yes, sir, much ap—

GARROSH: Okay, SERIOUSLY, BOTH of you, the next word of our either of your mouths had better be NOTHING, because otherwise, the SECOND word out of your mouths is going to be “OUCH, MY HEAD!” You understand?!



KROG: <chortle> This is awesome.

GARROSH: <pummel>


DRAZ’ZILB: Begging your pardon, Chief Hellscream, but is this…a typical day for you and your lieutenants?

GARROSH: <looks down> <long pause> Yes.



DRAZ’ZILB: Shall I resume my elaboration, Chief, or does the moment dictate a further prolonging of the awkward lull?

GARROSH: Okay, I’m fairly sure I recognized SOME of the words in there.

UTVOCH: The extension course DOES include a very excellent vocabulary building unit, if it please the Warchief, begging your pardon, sir, and hoping I might be spared a harsh inconceivable pummeling of—

DONTRAG: <shakes head>

GARROSH: <pummel>

UTVOCH: OWW!! Yes sir, re-shutting up…

KROG: <chortle>

GARROSH: <glare>

KROG: <hand clamps on mouth>

GARROSH: Draz’Zilb, would you please finish what you were saying before I have to fucking kill everyone in the room?

DRAZ’ZILB: Of course, Chief. As I was saying, I know of a very potent incantation, the reagents for which have just presently come into my possession. With it, I suspect we might loosen the reluctant lips of our Grimtotem prisoner.

GARROSH: Is it some kind of truth serum or something?

DRAZ’ZILB: Not at all, nothing quite so invasive. At least not in such a manner. No, good Chief, the spell I speak of executes a separation of the subject’s spirit from his body, leaving him highly susceptible to…coercion.

GARROSH: Well, that sounds okay, but he’s been pretty resistant to “coercion” so far, and it’s not like I’m a rookie when it comes to beating an answer out of someone.

DRAZ’ZILB: True, he’s proven to be remarkably strong-willed. But this is a different matter altogether. One can steel oneself against the pains of the body, great Chief; the body is fleeting and corporeal, and a strong mind can divest itself of the fear for its well-being. But the spirit…touch upon it directly, play upon the proper strings, and no mind can resist indefinitely. Eventually…one reaches a point of necessity. There is, for each of us, a breaking point, a fear so fundamental to our souls that if faced with it, we MUST escape it, regardless the cost. It is no longer a matter of strength or courage or power of will; it is a matter of need.

GARROSH: That’s…just evil.

KROG: I’m liking this guy.

DRAZ’ZILB: Shall I proceed, great Chief?

GARROSH: So we’re going to be seeing this guy’s deepest fear, is that it?

DRAZ’ZILB: Nothing quite so crude, Chief Hellscream, nor quite as dramatic. It is a process of the mind, and as such, it will be perceived solely by his mind. All we will witness is the shadow of his spirit as it is…extracted.

GARROSH: Well get extracting, then.

DRAZ’ZILB: As you wish, Chief.

Draz’Zilb begins the incantation, and the Grimtotem raider’s body goes stiff and freezes in place. A shadowy outline of the tauren floats up from his body and hovers in the air nearby.

KROG: Kinda like one of those shadow priest body double thingies.

DONTRAG: Should we stun him before he has a chance to hit dispers— OUCH!!


DRAZ’ZILB: Now then, here we are… As you can see, my Grimtotem friend, your situation grows a bit more, shall we say, tenuous.

The Grimtotem shade floats higher in the air and appears to look around apprehensively, limbs reaching in different directions as if trying to control its movement.

DRAZ’ZILB: Please, do try all you wish to remove yourself from your current position. It merely expends mental energy while I secure my hold on you. If anything, I thank you for your aid.

GARROSH: Is it working?

DRAZ’ZILB: Quite. Now then, something simple to start. What is your name, Grimtotem?

The shade glares at Draz’Zilb silently.

GARROSH: You’re sure about that, dude?

DRAZ’ZILB: <chuckles> Oh good. Even after hearing us discussing matters, he still needs to be…persuaded. I was hoping he would.

Draz’Zilb waves his staff, and shadowy tendrils of magic force swirl around the Grimtotem spirit. The shade lurches back and forth, looking about frantically, limbs flailing with greater urgency.

DRAZ’ZILB: There…that seems to be helping. But….just to be sure…

Draz’Zilb reaches for additional reagents and tosses them about his staff. He gestures toward the Grimtotem again, whose movements become more jerky and exaggerated, then grow slower as the shade’s form shrinks back.

DRAZ’ZILB: Now then…your name.

The shade’s mouth opens. After a long pause, it speaks in an echoing, timid voice.

GRIMTOTEM: Karthag… My name is Karthag Stonehoof.

DRAZ’ZILB: Much better. And you are one of the Grimtotem operating out of Blackhoof Village, is that correct?


DRAZ’ZILB: You see, Chief, he can be reasonable. <chuckle>

GARROSH: Dude, you’re enjoying this way too much.

KROG: Think maybe we could bring him in for some of our Alliance prisoners?


KROG: Just sayin’.

GARROSH: Okay, let’s get back to the point. Let’s find out what he knows about the attacks.

DRAZ’ZILB: Indeed. What was the purpose of your raid on our village, Karthag?

The shade shudders in place, then cowers with a pained moan.

DRAZ’ZILB: Oh, this IS a strong one. Here, then…

Draz’Zilb sprinkles some dust around the Grimtotem’s body, then waves his staff again. The shadow cries out in terror, then cowers silently, trembling.

DRAZ’ZILB: Shall we try that again? The objective of your attack?

GRIMTOTEM: We…we are looking for an ogre relic…

DONTRAG: Ogre relic?

UTVOCH: Zounds!

KROG: What?


DRAZ’ZILB: An ogre relic? Strange that I wouldn’t know of any such thing, being as I am an ogre myself. What is this relic you’re seeking? What do you want with it?

GRIMTOTEM: It isn’t us that want something with it. It’s…it’s the Twilight’s Hammer.

GARROSH: The FUCK he says?

DRAZ’ZILB: Yes, the fuck you sa— erm, that is, what do you mean? Why would the Twilight’s Hammer have an interest in an ogre artifact?

GRIMTOTEM: We…our leaders learned that the Twilight’s Hammer are seeking the relic, and we think it’s most likely in the hands of one of the ogre clans.

DRAZ’ZILB: According to whom? Where is this coming from?

GRIMTOTEM: Isha Gloomaxe arrived in Blackhoof Village with the news. She said we needed to hunt down as many of the ogres as we can, until we find the relic or confirm it’s not in Dustwallow.

DRAZ’ZILB: Is this what’s happening in Feralas as well? The reason behind the attacks there on the Gordunni?

GRIMTOTEM: Y…yes… Arnak Grimtotem himself was dispatched to oversee the search there, at least that’s what Isha told us…

GARROSH: I’m not liking the sound of this.

DRAZ’ZILB: But why? What is it for? What IS this relic?

GRIMTOTEM: It’s…a magic vessel… Some…some months ago, Cho’gall held a gathering of ogres in Dire Maul. The Twilight’s Hammer believe he had the relic forged while he was there.

GARROSH: Yeah, I’m liking this even less.

GRIMTOTEM: The relic is a phylactery…the phylactery of Cho’gall. They believe…he bound a portion of his spirit to it. They want to use it to resurrect Cho’gall.

KROG: Oh fuck.

GARROSH: Hang on, what the fuck. That’s all well and shitty by itself, but what the hell do the fucking GRIMTOTEM want with it?

DRAZ’ZILB: A fine question, good Chief. A fine answer to follow, I’m sure. Well, Karthag? What interest DO the Grimtotem have in such a thing?

DONTRAG: Maybe they’re trying to stop the Twilight’s Hammer?

UTVOCH: Maybe they think they can use it to preserve their own leaders?

KROG: Maybe you guys should shut the fuck up?

DRAZ’ZILB: Maybe we should let the spirit answer the question before I run out of reagents here?

GRIMTOTEM: We…don’t have a use for it. Bringing back Cho’gall doesn’t matter to us. But…we know that the Twilight Hammer wants it…and so if we can find it first…

GARROSH: You can cut a deal with them.

DRAZ’ZILB: Surely you don’t think they can be trusted. They want to destroy the world!

GRIMTOTEM: Our world…is already destroyed. We’ve become outcasts of the Horde…our attempts to forge a truce with the Alliance have crumbled… We have precious few allies to turn to anymore. And the hope is, if we can give the Twilight’s Hammer Cho’gall, they may help us regain some of what we’ve lost.

GARROSH: You’re insane. I seriously don’t know which of you is more crazy, the Grimtotem or the Twilights.

DRAZ’ZILB: What’s the next move for you? Where are your people striking next?

GRIMTOTEM: I don’t know…very few of us ever knew more than our next mission… I just know what we’re looking for, but beyond that…

KROG: Is he lying? To cover for them?

DRAZ’ZILB: Unlikely. His spirit is broken enough at this point…I don’t think he has anything else for us.

GARROSH: It was enough.

DRAZ’ZILB: Indeed.

Draz’Zilb chuckles and waves his staff again. The shade shudders violently, then dissipates into the air in a burst of shadow magic. Karthag’s body seizes up, then collapses limply to the ground, lifeless.

GARROSH: The FUCK, dude?!

DRAZ’ZILB: Oh, I’m sorry, did I not tell you about that part? My apologies. The procedure does come, eventually, at the expense of the subject’s life. Spirits are so terribly hard to reintegrate into bodies once they’ve been extracted, after all…

KROG: Seriously, Alliance prisoners. Really, really look into it.


I can’t even tell you how pissed off I am about this. How is this going on, and the GRIMTOTEM are able to put it together before WE do? What am I paying my undercover agents for, anyway?! Isn’t this EXACTLY the kind of shit that they’re supposed to be digging up for me?

Obviously this is bad news in a major way. I like to bust Thrall’s balls, but he actually has been breaking his ass trying to come up with a way to get the Deathwing situation under control, and the LAST thing we need is a wild card like Cho’gall to get thrown back into the mix this late in the game. I’ve got to get this shit under control. And fast.

Stay tuned for updates. Meanwhile, I’m dispatching messengers to Twilight Highlands tonight. Sorry if it upsets you, Wega – I’m calling in Garona.


“Could you keep it down, please? I’m trying to be unsettlingly evil in here.”