Monthly Archives: November 2012
Virtual democracy in action
So while I’m waiting for reports to come in from Nazgrim on his mission to this new mystery continent, I’ve been putting in a little gaming time. My Earth Online playing has been pretty sporadic lately, what with everything going on with the Theramore attack and its aftermath, and the side trip to Karazhan, so I still haven’t made nearly as much headway into the new EO Land Down Under expansion as I would have liked. Although, I’ve got to tell you, that’s just freaky coincidence right there — I mean, what are the odds that EO would put out an expansion adding a new major continent in the southern oceans…and then a couple weeks later, in real life, some whole new continent just shows up in the southern ocean. I think that’s one of those deals that you call life imitating art. Or I guess you COULD call it that, if you count a videogame as art. Which you shouldn’t, because let’s face it, that’s kind of retarded.
The big gaming news is that this week Earth Online FINALLY had its big contest to determine who would be one of the major faction leaders. Honestly, after all the hype and the constant talk about it, more than anything I’m just glad to have it over and done with. In case you’re interested and didn’t already know and are sitting there all in suspense, by the way, the current faction leader won, so he gets to go on being faction leader. How’s that for excitement? Enough high drama for you?
Anyway, as much as it was annoying having to hear about this world event, like, CONSTANTLY, it actually WAS kind of fun to see it play out. The event had a lot of parts to it, going on for months, but it all capped with the big Election Day world event earlier this week, and that was actually kind of interesting. First you would have your own individual contribution to one side or the other, where you would fight your way through to go to the polls, and click on a ballot box to align yourself with one of the candidates. Getting there was no small feat, though, what with there being watchdog groups hanging around outside all the polling stations trying to block you from getting in to support one side or the other. And I mean literal watchdog groups, with packs of great danes and rottweilers.
So once you had yourself aligned, you could be recruited to go help with the nationwide campaign, which basically was kind of a resource gathering contest. Basically there would be these “electoral points” you could win zone by zone, and whoever collected a certain number of them first would win. So mostly you would go to these designated “battleground states”…which were just these huge free-for-all PVP zones where you would flag yourself for one of the two sides and have at it against the other guy’s supporters. I don’t think I have to tell you I had a pretty good time running around pwning face in one state after another. Unfortunately I mostly got stuck with a bunch of clueless ungeared nubs who didn’t know how the fuck to PVP, so I spent a lot of the time in bgstate chat yelling at them for being idiots. So, you know.
Anyway, it was a pretty fun time in general, but probably the most entertaining part was watching all the nerdraging that went on after the outcome was decided. Oh man, do these dorks ever get mad when things don’t go their way. You would think it was the RL fucking apocalypse. You had the doom-and-glood crowd going on about how this used to be a good game and now that players have destroyed it and it’s all going to be ruined and OMG EMO EMO EMO. And then you had the conspiracy nuts going on about how the devs just rigged the whole thing and faked it to look like we could have an effect on the world, so they wouldn’t have to change the faction leader and design new content for the change. Which, okay, I don’t buy that shit, but I’ll grant you, it DOES seem pretty unlikely that a game would put a new faction leader in and then just a couple years later get rid of him, much less invite the players to come oust him. I mean really. But either way, I really don’t get why everyone is getting so upset. Seriously, people, why would anybody be getting emotionally invested — for good or ill — in a made-up fictional character in a videogame?
Pfft. Nerds.
Into the mists
Brief update today, but an important one.
I had a meeting this morning with General Nazgrim. He’s been overseeing our naval operations since the whole Northwatch Hold fiasco. He had good news concerning recent victories at sea…and one piece of odd news.
This new land mass Nazgrim reported isn’t on any of our charts. It’s more or less in a region of the Great Sea that our ships wouldn’t have much reason ever to go near. But by all indications, the land mass is huge — not so much an island as a whole freaking CONTINENT. I’m not sure HOW it could have been there all this time without anyone ever noticing it.
Anyway, as the General reported, the Alliance had a ship run aground there, with some of our ships pursuing, and I don’t have to tell you I’m not at all thrilled by the idea of the Alliance making any headway on this new land ahead of us. So I’ve issued new orders to Nazgrim: he’s to assemble an elite force of our best people and take the Hellscream’s Fist, our newest gunship, to this new land and take whatever steps are necessary to ensure that the Horde, not the Alliance, secures a foothold there. A foothold to begin with, that is. Soon to be followed by a giant Horde insignia draped across the whole damn continent.
Here’s where you all come in. By the time you read this, some of you will have already received orders to join General Nazgrim’s forces on the Hellscream’s Fist. More of you will have the chance to head to the new continent with subsequent detachments we’ll be assembling. Once you’re there, I’m going to need information, and lots of it. Nazgrim is a good man, and thorough, but it never hurts to have a few extra sets of eyes when it comes to recon. So I need all of you to get down there and report back on what you find — bring your discoveries to the General, obviously, but while you’re at it, I want you to be sending updates to me directly as well. Going forward, I’m going to try to devote a part of my mailbags to reviewing your reports from the field.
So what are you waiting for? You heard me. Report to your assignments and get down there. YOUR WARCHIEF NEEDS INTELLIGENCE.
Hmm… I maybe want to rephrase that. Anyway.
FOR THE HORDE!
Monday mailbag
So now that THAT whole pain in the ass down in Karazhan is over with, it’s time to get to some overdue mail. Hopefully now that I’m out of the Opera House, nobody will spontaneously burst into song. Although, true fact: much to my surprise, Utvoch turns out to have a downright enchanting singing voice. Who knew?
Anyway, let’s have a look at what we’ve got this time around…
Nothing much to say, but … OOOOHHHHHH YEEEEEEAAAAAHHHHHHH!
Naysayers there may be, but they should know this: Theramore was an intact government center, a base for munitions and supplies, and an important logistical link for Alliance forces in the Barrens. It is now none of these things.
(And bonus points for anyone who can recognize the EO NPC I swiped the quote from!)
–A Concerned Citizen
Hey, ACC. Glad you had a good time on the Theramore mission.
That said…look, I’m glad that you’re all-in for this war with the Alliance, and believe you me, it’s nice to have frigging SOMEBODY around here who doesn’t go all “pooh-pooh, oh heavens, how could you, Garrosh?” over every single act of war taken against the fuckers with whom, you know, we’re at war. So that’s all good stuff.
But dude…you’re REALLY enjoying this a little too much. Dial down the bloodthirsty just a LITTLE, will you? And seriously, do you really understand how bad it has to be to make ME have to say that?
Also, I totally know where you got that quote from, but I’ll hold off on saying anything so everyone else can have a crack at it in the comments or the next batch of letters. I’ll give you all a hint, though — the NPC that ACC is riffing on isn’t someone you interact with directly in the game, but he shows up in one of those cut scenes that they use to fill in some of the in-game backstory. Now have at it, lore nerds — AND NO GOOGLING!
This letter arrives with the crumbling remains of what might have once been a piece of cake, and when opened, fills the reader’s lap with loose glitter. It is written in multiple colors of ink, liberally dusted with more glitter. In the margins are sketches, mostly of Ashenvale, though orcs feature prominently near the bottom. The handwriting is shaky and wanders across the page, but is mostly legible.
Deer Mr Warcheif Sir,
It was my berth-day yestirday! I am 20. I had lots of cak. I sent you sum. I hop you like it. After cak, Mr Hi Cheiftin Bane askd me to go to Ashnval. He wasnt mad that I drew on his reports. Evryon else was tho. They all got so mad when they saw. All I did was mak them pretti! Mr Banes reports wer just wirds, lots and lots and lots and lots of wirds, and thats boring. I mad them less boring. But they all got mad. So after they gav me cak they had Mr Bane ask me to go to Ashnval. Its pretti in Ashnval! Its all sparkli and glittri! I hop you like glittr. I sent you sum. And I met Mr U agin! He told me what you sed, Mr Warcheif Sir. He red it from a glowi thing he sed was calld a kumputr. I want a kumputr to. They look lik fun. He was playng what he called Urth Onlin. That looks lik fun to. He sed you play Urth Onlin to, Mr Warcheif Sir. Can I play to?
The letter is signed with an inked pawprint and the name “Taktani” in multicolored inks.
Hoo boy.
Okay, well, maybe it’s just my imagination, but I think her spelling is at least a little better than last time.
Slightly.
Okay, yeah, maybe not. HEAD HURTS.
Luckily, I think I’ve got a way to make this a little less painful, courtesy of Spazzle. See, the little green dude’s been tinkering around with a computer app that converts other languages and dialects into Common, so maybe we can give it a whirl and see what we get. Here goes…
Taktani said: It was my berth-day yestirday! I am 20. I had lots of cak. I sent you sum. I hop you like it.
TranslationMaster 2000 says: Yesterday was my 20th birthday. I had lots of cake. I’ve sent you some. I hope you like it.
Okay, so far so good. So first of all, happy birthday, I guess, as of like a month ago, based on the date of this letter.
Second of all, yeah, I like cake, but like…this stuff you enclosed in the letter? That shit ain’t cake. Maybe it was cake when you sent it, but it sure as hell isn’t cake now. Now it’s like the Granular Substance Formerly Known as Cake. Never mind it being edible — at this point it looks more like something that might try to crawl out of Faranell’s lab. Matter of fact, excuse me for a second while I go kill it before it develops language skills. Which, in the process, by the way, it might still end up beating out the writer of this particular letter.
But third of all — WTF you had CAKE for your birthday? You’re a TAUREN, and you had lots of CAKE?! I went to Thunder Bluff for BAINE’S birthday, and the only snacks they had were jerky and pine nuts and…like…hay…and yet YOU somehow manage to get fucking CAKE? How the hell does THAT happen?
Taktani said: After cak, Mr Hi Cheiftin Bane askd me to go to Ashnval. He wasnt mad that I drew on his reports. Evryon else was tho. They all got so mad when they saw. All I did was mak them pretti! Mr Banes reports wer just wirds, lots and lots and lots and lots of wirds, and thats boring. I mad them less boring. But they all got mad.
TranslationMaster 2000 says: After cake, High Chieftain Baine Bloodhoof sent me to Ashenvale. He wasn’t mad that I drew on his reports, but everyone else was when they saw what I had done. All I did was make them pretty! Baine’s reports were just enormous walls of text (possibly ghost-written by Tirion). I cut down on the TL;DR factor by making them less boring. But everyone (other than Baine) got mad.
So I’ve got to say, I am endlessly amused by the thought that Taktani apparently doodled all over Baine’s reports and then Baine’s advisors all started getting pissy over it. It kind of reminds me of the first couple months I was Warchief — sometimes I would get bored filling out requisition forms and scribble a few little pictures in the margins, and Eitrigg would get all uptight over it when he went to review the forms. Personally I kind of liked the little cartoon stick-figure of Thrall I came up with, with the word balloon going “BLAH BLAH BLAH I’M SO AWESOME,” but that seemed to make Eitrigg especially cranky.
Also, I think this might explain why Baine’s last few reports have come in kind of late.
Taktani said: So after they gav me cak they had Mr Bane ask me to go to Ashnval. Its pretti in Ashnval! Its all sparkli and glittri! I hop you like glittr. I sent you sum.
TranslationMaster 2000 says: After my birthdaycake, Baine’s irate advisors demanded he send me to Ashenvale. It’s pretty in Ashenvale! It’s all sparkly and glittery. I hope you like glitter, which I say without irony because I’ve clearly never met you or formed any accurate sense of your actual personality. I sent you some, collected directly from the trees of Ashenvale, which ooze glitter in the same way normal trees exude sap.
OMG NOT THE FUCKING GLITTER AGAIN. If there’s one thing I hate about Ashenvale, other than the demonic influence, and the Alliance strongholds, and the fact that our western operations are being inexplicably stymied by the fucking Thistlefur furbolgs, and the lingering bitterness of my mother appearing to have been killed in Demon Fall Canyon, and the less said about my whole bright idea with the magnataur the better…yeah, other than that stuff, if there’s one thing I hate about Ashenvale? THE FUCKING GLITTER.
Taktani said: And I met Mr U agin! He told me what you sed, Mr Warcheif Sir. He red it from a glowi thing he sed was calld a kumputr. I want a kumputr to. They look lik fun.
TranslationMaster2000: And I met Utvoch again! He read me your answer to my last letter from his computer. I want a computer, too. They look like fun.
Okay, so I guess she must have crossed paths with Dontrag and Utvoch while he was on his way back to Stonetalon after the post-Theramore non-celebration business. Also you’ll notice from that last sentence just how unnatural it is to see someone talking about just ONE of the Dumbass Duo. I have to admit I’m more than a little disturbed by this. I’m not sure if Taktani somehow missed the fact that there was a SECOND imbecile there, or if something even more baffling happened and something actually SEPARATED those two, which as far as I know has only happened once before and it took the insistence of a fucking DRAGON ASPECT to make happen.
And speaking of disturbing details, is anybody else starting to really, really worry that the writer who penned this literary masterpiece of a letter is apparently hanging out with UTVOCH? And…now wants a computer? Does anyone else see this potential perfect storm of virtual brain cancer in the making?
So, you know what? No. No, you can’t have a computer. Ever.
Taktani said: He was playng what he called Urth Onlin. That looks lik fun to. He sed you play Urth Onlin to, Mr Warcheif Sir. Can I play to?
TranslationMaster 2000 says: Utvoch was playing Earth Online. That looks fun, too, which is a peculiar thing to say, insofar as most MMO’s barely even look fun to the people actually playing them. He said you also play Earth Online, Mr. Warchief. Can I play, too?
No. No, you can’t. You cannot play Earth Online too. A thousand gallons of no. See the reasons above, then add about 73 additional ones. For instance, here’s #27: I do not want to get stuck being the one having to explain to her the “Anal [Class Ability]” jokes in trade chat. (Especially if I feel like I came up with a particularly clever one, because it just plain spoils the fun when you have to explain your own jokes.)
Also, random thought here, but some of these translations are a lot more pointed than I would have expected. Go figure.
Anyway, Taktani…instead of getting a computer and playing Earth Online — neither of which things you should ever do, like ever in the everest of ever — I’d recommend knocking yourself out up there in Ashenvale on all the busywork very important missions we have up there. If you run out of things to do over there, maybe swing by Stonetalon. Wait, hang on, D&U are in Stonetalon, scratch that. Try Desolace instead. Desolace or the Southern Barrens. On paper those areas might be a little dangerous for you, but who are we kidding? We’re way too conservative sizing up the danger levels of the different territories, and most of the time when we send people to their assignments they just wind up facerolling shit. Be a little ambitious. Go nuts. Which I kinda think you might already have, anyway.
I think that’s about as much as my will to live can take for one day, so let’s wrap it up here and be back in a couple weeks with more reader mail. As always, keep those e-mails coming to garrosh1337@gmail.com.
Encore
The Karazhan Opera House curtain rises. As a drum beat begins, Garona dances at center stage, surrounded by Gul’dan, Medivh, and Cho’gall.
{MY GARONA}
GUL’DAN:
Oh my little stabby one, stabby one,
Come along and look in my eye’s corona.
Now my binding spell is spun, won’t be undone:
Fight it if you want, but you’re mine, Garona.
Never going free,
Barely sane,
Such an angry mind,
You’re gonna kill King Llane,
Take the blame,
Just as I designed –
You’re my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!MEDIVH:
Come on down to Karazhan, for Gul’dan;
Soon you’ll have your Emissary persona.
While Sargeras pulls my strings, plotting things,
Something in you draws you to me, Garona.
Never holding back,
Love takes wing,
Fight it if you can;
You always had a thing
For a fling
With an older man –
You’re my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!CHO’GALL:
When you gonna come at me? Let me see.
Stop your hiding out by that ghost Karoma.
Twilight Bastion destiny, better flee.
If you get too close then you’re toast, Garona.
Sneaking up the hills,
Fight and scrap,
Take the bait, go on;
You’re yelling “Holy crap!
It’s a trap!”
Gotta fight a gronn –
My, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!GUL’DAN, MEDIVH, and CHO’GALL:
Ohhh, my Garona!
Ohhh, my Garona!
Ohhh, my Garona!The audience bursts into applause; Garona, beaming, steps forward and opens her mouth as if to speak or sing. The curtain closes in front of her.
The Wizard of Zhan, Act 3
The curtain rises on the exterior of Karazhan. Garrosh et al approach the front gate.
GARROSH: Okay, so this is the place…
FARANELL: Weren’t we just here not too long ago?
Garrosh knocks on the door. A window on the door slides open, and Berhold the doorman sticks his head out.
BERTHOLD: Who goes there? What business do you have at the master’s Dark Tower?
GARROSH: We’ve come to see the Wizard.
DONTRAG: The guardian Wizard of Zhan!
UTVOCH: We hear he’s sage—
Garrosh smacks Utvoch.
GARROSH: Now don’t you get started with that shit again!
BERTHOLD: The Wizard? You can’t see the Wizard! No one sees the Wizard!
GARONA: Here’s where I grease the wheels… You remember me, don’t you, Berthold?
BERTHOLD: <leans out a bit more, squinting> Hmm, well…oh…oh goodness…lady Garona? Is it really you?
GARONA: It’s good to see you again, Berthold. Could you please go in and tell the Wizard it’s me?
BERTHOLD: Well, um, of course, m’lady. I’ll just be a moment.
Berthold disappears inside and the window closes.
GARONA: <grinning smugly> See? Now we just wait a minute or two, and then they’ll roll out the welcome mat.
GARROSH: How do you know this guy, anyway?
GARONA: I guess you could say we had sort of a thing back in the day.
GARROSH: Suddenly this Wizard’s judgment is seeming a little suspect.
GARONA: What’s that supposed to mean?
Just in front of the door, a heavy portcullis suddenly comes crashing down.
FARANELL: Um, unless welcome mats have been radically redesigned lately…
GARONA: Hang on.
Garona raps on the door angrily. The window opens and Berthold looks out again.
BERTHOLD: Yes?
GARONA: Didn’t you tell him it was me?
BERTHOLD: Yes!
Berthold slams the window shut.
GARONA: Well I…I…
GARROSH: Okay, so I stand corrected on this Wizard guy.
MOKVAR: Well now we have a minor problem about getting in to see him.
GARROSH: Anyone else have any bright ideas?
FARANELL: Garrosh, let me see that Focusing Iris?
GARROSH: You’re not going to try to blow up the gate and get us all killed or something, are you?
FARANELL: Not all of us.
MOKVAR: Reassuring.
FARANELL: But really, let me see it. I think I know how to appeal to him.
GARROSH: <handing the Focusing Iris to Faranell> You think you can get us in, run with it, man.
Faranell knocks on the door; the window opens, and Berthold looks out.
BERTHOLD: Are you all still here?
FARANELL: Yeah, so listen—
BERTHOLD: Good heavens, what happened to you? You look like death warmed over!
FARANELL: Yeah, yeah, I’m undead. So anyway—
BERTHOLD: Undead? That must be a horrible fate.
FARANELL: Yeah, well, take a good long look at the future, smart guy. Are you done interrupting me now? Yeah? Good. So, check this out. I know your boss isn’t in much of a hurry to be reunited with little miss sunshine over here, but I think he’d be very interested in getting a peek at this.
Faranell holds up the Focusing Iris.
You go on back inside and tell him that the bearer of the Focusing Iris is here, and might be persuaded to let him check out the number one item on every magic user’s Winter’s Veil list, okay?
BERTHOLD: Huh…if you say so, sir…
Berthold disappears inside.
MOKVAR: You think he’s going to go for it?
FARANELL: Trust me, I know how to appeal to another mage.
GARROSH: Let’s hope.
Accompanied by the sound of rattling chains, the portcullis rises back up, and the door swings open.
FARANELL: And there we go.
GARROSH: Nice job, Doc. Now we’re in business. Let’s go finish this…
The group walks through the gate.
Blackout. Garrosh and the others enter a large chamber filled with relics, vials, and other magic paraphernalia. Tapestries and ornate curtains decorate those portions of the walls not covered with tall bookshelves.
GARROSH: Huh… Well this looks like the kind of place a wizard would hang out, but where is he?
A booming voice echoes through the room.
VOICE: You have come to seek an audience with the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan?
GARONA: Oh boy, here he goes.
GARROSH: <looking around> Uh, yeah, we do, if he can bother dragging his butt out here so we can actually see him.
VOICE: You dare presume to speak to the great Wizard with such familiarity, mortal? You shall count yourself fortunate that the Wizard does not smite you where you stand!
UTVOCH: Wait, he’s a priest? I thought he was a mage.
MOKVAR: Is he always like this?
GARONA: Oh you have no idea. All the time with the talking about himself in the third person.
In the middle of the room, a towering, semi-transparent avatar of Medivh appears.
MEDIVH: The Wizard of Zhan has been informed that one among you carries the storied Focusing Iris! It is for this reason alone that you have been permitted into this sanctified chamber!
GARONA: Oh, and there he is, finally. And thank you, dear, for that very warm welcome.
MEDIVH: <looks at Garona> Oh. Delightful.
GARONA: Oh, really? You want to know what else is delightful? Being a single mom trying to give her son a good life when the kid’s high-and-mighty richer-than-Aman’thul dad for some reason can’t be bothered to mail off a child support payment!
MEDIVH: The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan does not have time to trifle with these petty—
GARONA: Oh, sure, when it’s something I want to talk about…
GARROSH: So listen, Your Wizardry, we have the Focusing Iris—
MEDIVH: Indeed, hence you are here in my chamber, and not cast out to the ogres! I will be most interested to examine the relic, and—
GARROSH: Yeah, well, here’s the thing, chief – before we let you go poking around with the shiny, we have a few things of our own that we could use a hand with.
MEDIVH: You dare dictate terms to the great and mighty Wizard!
GARONA: Oh man, he’s really in form today…
FARANELL: If you’d rather not be bothered we can just be along our way.
MEDIVH: <chuckles> You mortals have daring, I’ll grant you that much.
Medivh looks around the group, eyeing them carefully.
I will hear your requests.
GARONA: Hold the presses, he just called himself “I.”
MEDIVH: And you would do well to still her tongue.
GARROSH: Been working on that for months, chief. No luck so far.
MEDIVH: At any rate – present your entreaties, but remember the Wizard makes no promises.
GARROSH: We each have something we’re after, Wiz. In my case, I’m trying to find a way to summon Prince Malchezaar down from the Netherspace, so I can put him in the ground before the Burning Legion can pull him out of mothballs to stir up trouble for my people.
MEDIVH: Ah, yes, the irksome demon who’s tucked himself away in the upper levels. You intrigue me, mortal; I must say it would be no small pleasure to have that particular infestation removed from this place…
GARROSH: Okay, so far so good. Meanwhile…well…the rest of the requests are a little more personalized.
DONTRAG: Shall we present our case to the great and metallurgical Wizard, sir, and—
GARROSH: <smacking Dontrag> For spirits’ sake, no.
MOKVAR: Dontrag and Utvoch here would like some brains.
UTVOCH: Indeed, sir!
DONTRAG: <rubbing his head> So as not to have our current ones beaten out quite so often, sir.
GARROSH: And for real, anything you could do on that count, I mean, I can’t possibly overstate how much of a quality of life improvement that could be for everyone involved.
MOKVAR: As for the rest of us… A heart for me.
GARROSH: Because apparently he’s still moping over his ex-wife or something.
GARONA: Could you be any more insensitive?
FARANELL: And some guts for me.
UTVOCH: I still don’t really think you need—
MEDIVH: Enough of your insipid prattling, insects!
GARROSH: Yelling doesn’t do much good with this crowd, Wiz. Don’t think I haven’t tried.
MEDIVH: The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan has heard your requests, and in light of the possibility of studying the Focusing Iris, has deemed them acceptable.
GARROSH: Awesome, Wiz.
FARANELL: See, I told you the Iris was our ticket in.
MOKVAR: So is there a spell or an incantation you have to do on us, or…?
MEDIVH: Silence, mortals! I have not yet finished! I will grant your requests, but first I require you to perform a task on my behalf!
MOKVAR: Uh oh.
DONTRAG: I knew there was going to be a catch…
MOKVAR: We’re going to have to kill something, aren’t we?
GARROSH: So hang on, when you say we have to do a task for you, is this a for real task, or one of those busywork kind of tasks, because you’re talking to an old pro at doling out those…
FARANELL: Personally I think the whole getting-to-work-on-the-Iris thing should be enough of a trade-off on our part, but…
MEDIVH: Bleat at me no longer, fools!
MOKVAR: …Ouch.
FARANELL: That was kind of a good one, actually.
MEDIVH: Before the mighty and magnanimous Wizard grants your request, he demands that you return to him another magic relic of great power: you are to slay the Wicked Witch of the West, and recover from her the Doomstone.
GARROSH: Hang on, the Wicked Witch of the West? That’s Magatha, isn’t it?
GARONA: Yeah.
GARROSH: So we get what we came for, AND I get to kill Magatha?
FARANELL: Didn’t you already kill her in the other timeline?
GARROSH: Trust me, dude, it never gets old.
MEDIVH: You shall venture to the odious lair of the Wicked Witch, where you shall slay her and return with the powerful Doomstone. You must not shy away from this task, for if you fail to carry out this duty—
GARROSH: Dude, it’s cool, done and done.
MEDIVH: Excellent! Be warned, however, the lair of the Wicked Witch of the West shall not be breached easily. It lies in the Mountains of Twilight, in the dread Bastion of the Dying Day. The journey shall be long and arduous, and you will find many trials between here and—
FARANELL: <holding up the Focusing Iris and channeling a spell> Yeah, stoke that noise. Portal to BoT coming up!
Faranell completes the spell and teleports the group away, other than Garona.
MEDIVH: <sighs> Mortals.
Blackout. In an inner chamber of the Bastion of Twilight, Magatha peers into an Eye of Twilight. Beside her hunches Zhi-Zhi, dressed in armor and sporting bat-like wings on his back; around the room similar winged monkey creatures scurry.
MAGATHA: The visions have grown cloudy…they may have reached Karazhan, but no matter – soon enough we’ll find them, and the Focusing Iris will be—
In a flash of light, Garrosh et all appear in the middle of the room. The group appears briefly disoriented as they look around.
FARANELL: Okay, here we are!
MOKVAR: <looking around> Are…are those flying monkeys?
MAGATHA: Well then! All the better! No need to go out hunting for them – the fools have delivered themselves right into my very lair!
ZHI-ZHI: Now! Now we get them, your Witchy-wooken-ness ma’am! Hozen do good and get the dookin’—
MAGATHA: <smacking Zhi-Zhi> Shut up, you insipid preliterate orang utan! Get them!
ZHI-ZHI: Ahhh! Stop hitting Zhi-Zhi!
DONTRAG: I know the feeling, ape guy…
ZHI-ZHI: Get them! Get them!
More monkeys swarm into the room and start running to surround Garrosh’s group, which backs up toward stage right. Magatha runs back and forth in the background, overlooking the scene. Arikara flies in and swoops back and forth above them.
GARROSH: That’s…a whole lot of monkeys.
FARANELL: Plus that wind serpent…
Mortimer leaps into the air and barrels into Arikara with a snarl, knocking them both offstage to the left.
GARROSH: Yeah, I’m not so worried about the wind serpent.
The monkeys descend in bunches, attacking the group.
The chimp brigade, on the other hand…
The Horde group starts to fight off the monkeys; they cut the monkeys down easily enough, but by sheer force of numbers, Magatha’s attackers push Garrosh et al further back.
Magatha descends and begins shooting chain lightning.
MAGATHA: Hahaha! You fools made my work that much easier! Now the Focusing Iris will be mine, and—
Faranell runs up to Magatha and splashes her from a bucket.
AAAHH!! I’m melting! I’m melting! AAAAHHH!!!
Screaming all the way, Magatha melts into a sizzling brown puddle on the floor.
GARROSH: Um, hang on a second. She melted? Fucking WATER killed her?
FARANELL: No. That wasn’t water.
MOKVAR: What was it, then?
FARANELL: Acidic plague.
GARROSH: You walk around with a bucket of acidic plague?
FARANELL: Do you not know what I do for a living?
ZHI-ZHI: The Wicked Witch – she’s dead! You killed her!
MOKVAR: Uh oh. Bracing for pissed-off monkeys.
ZHI-ZHI: She’s dead! She’s dead! Hozen are free! Free of the Witch!
Zhi-Zhi starts jumping up and down jubilantly, with the other monkeys following his lead in short order. Mortimer wanders in and sits, munching on a wind serpent wing.
DONTRAG: I guess this is good?
MOKVAR: As long as they don’t start fliging poop around, I think we’re okay.
ZHI-ZHI: No more beatings from Wicked Witch! We friends now! Friends of the hozen!
Faranell prods Magatha’s remains, rummaging through the remains of her cloak.
MOKVAR: Be careful there, Edwin – are you sure you should be poking around in that stuff?
FARANELL: <continues rummaging> Oh, yes, you’re right, I’d better be careful not to touch any of the plague, or else my flesh might decompose and I might die and OH WAIT.
Faranell pulls a polished gray stone from Magatha’s cloak and tosses it to Garrosh.
Here we go. Mission accomplished.
ZHI-ZHI: Yes! You take Doomstone – reward for killing Wicked Witch! And hozen will follow you now!
GARROSH: Don’t I know you from somewhere?
ZHI-ZHI: <scratching his head> Ever been to Tian Monastery?
GARROSH: Never heard of it.
MOKVAR: Well, other than that one time.
ZHI-ZHI: <still scratching his head> Dunno then…
GARROSH: <shrugs> Whatever.
FARANELL: Portal back to the Wizard?
GARROSH: Yeah, let’s get a move on.
ZHI-ZHI: Hozen come too! Follow new leader! Leader who free hozen!
GARROSH: Uh, yeah, dude, listen, I’ve already got my quota filled on preliterate knuckle-dragging lackeys, okay?
DONTRAG: Sorry, sir.
FARANELL: Okay, gentlemen, here we go…
Faranell casts a portal spell and teleports the group away. Zhi-Zhi remains with the other winged monkeys; he looks around dejectedly, then sneers at the spot where Garrosh had been standing.
ZHI-ZHI: Still not the one!
Blackout. In the Wizard of Zhan’s chamber, Garrosh et al port in, joining Medivh, Garona, and Liadrin.
MEDIVH: Ah, you’ve returned! The mighty but restless Wizard of Zhan is both pleased and not inconsiderably relieved at your timely return!
MOKVAR: You were worried about us?
MEDIVH: Not especially. But since your departure, your…colleague has scarcely shut up.
GARONA: Well sue me for thinking you might want to catch up a little. It’s not like we have a kid together or anything.
GARROSH: <looking to Liadrin> And hang on, what are YOU doing here?
LIADRIN: You think I would miss this floor show?
GARROSH: Well you know, if you were going to come here anyway, you could have maybe stayed with us and used some of your magic to help move things along.
LIADRIN: And then what would you have learned?
GARROSH: I didn’t learn a damn thing as it is, other than “Watch where you step around monkeys” and “Don’t get too close if you see a walking corpse with a bucket”!
FARANELL: You know I’m standing right here.
LIADRIN: Two valuable life lessons.
GARROSH: …I seriously need some new friends.
MEDIVH: At any rate.
GARROSH: Yeah, PLEASE get us back to business.
MEDIVH: You have brought the Doomstone, as I instructed?
GARROSH: <holds up the Doomstone> Got it right here.
MEDIVH: Excellent. Now you shall hand over the relic, and—
GARROSH: Not so fast, translucent boy. First you give us what we came here for, THEN we’ll give you the doohicky.
MEDIVH: You dare try to dictate terms to the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan, mortal? I should liquidate you for your presumption alone!
Mortimer, who has been sniffing around the various tapestries that cover parts of the walls, tugs back one curtain to reveal a control panel covered with elaborate levers, buttons, and monitors, manned by a Forsaken male dressed in warrior’s plate.
GARROSH: Uh, who’s that?
The Forsaken man speaks into a microphone on the control panel, and his words are echoed by Medivh.
AVERRY and MEDIVH: Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!
FARANELL: Well that’s…odd.
GARROSH: The hell?
GARONA: I don’t even want to think about the implications of this for me.
AVERRY and MEDIVH: Silence, you foolish mortals! Pay him no mind!
GARROSH: Dude, we can see you’re the one doing the talking.
UTVOCH: I’m confused.
FARANELL: Imagine our astonishment.
Averry looks back at the others and hurriedly pulls the curtain closed again.
GARROSH: Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the— Oh. Oops. Wrong button.
MEDIVH: That’s better. Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the curtain, and put him out of mind!
ALL: What man behind the curtain whom we certainly don’t remember seeing?
MEDIVH: Much better.
GARROSH: Look, can we just get what we came here for so we can get this whole freak show over with?
LIADRIN: It probably would be just as easy to do it this way, Guardian.
MEDIVH: <sighs> Very well. Have your companions step forward…
Mokvar, Faranell, Dontrag, and Utvoch step closer to Medivh. Medivh looks to Faranell.
First you, my fellow – albeit preposterously less mighty – mage.
FARANELL: Can’t anyone be one of the best at their class without being an elitist jerk about it?
MEDIVH: You came, as I recall, seeking guts – and yet I daresay you suffer from disorganized thinking. To flee from danger is, in many cases, not cowardice, but wisdom. Indeed, in my day I have known many a soul called a hero, who carried out great deeds of valiance, and they had no more courage than—
FARANELL: No, no, you’re taking this too metaphorically.
MEDIVH: Pardon?
FARANELL: I don’t need guts because I think I’m a coward. Look at me. Half my internal organs are missing. I have no guts, literally.
MEDIVH: Huh. You know, you’re shedding new light on some complaints I’ve been getting from Moroes…
FARANELL: How about I put you down for an “I’ll get back to you” and keep the line moving.
Medivh shrugs and turns to Mokvar.
MEDIVH: As for you, my good orc… Your trouble is another misperception of your situation – not the lack of heart, but a damaged one. To that end, I give you this remedy, for your ears and your ears alone:
Medivh leans closer to Mokvar.
<aside> She is still out there, alive, and she is looking for you.
Mokvar makes a surprised expression, then nods and steps away. Medivh turns to Dontrag and Utvoch.
Now then…you two.
DONTRAG: Yes, sir, your high and mighty Wizardariousness, sir.
UTVOCH: Very much honored to bask in your presence and await your magnaminious blessings, sir.
MEDIVH: Hmm… Yeah. Right. Sorry. You can’t fix stupid.
DONTRAG: Oh.
UTVOCH: Um…okay…
GARROSH: <sighs> Gotta say, we’re not getting a whole lot of return on our investment so far.
MEDIVH: Now for your request, other-orc. You say you seek the demon Malchezaar, and the means to draw him out of his hiding place…
GARROSH: Right. Please don’t tell me this is another one of those “Oops, I can’t really do that one” things for you.
MEDIVH: The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan can do anything, mortal!
FARANELL: Other than listen to himself for like the last three minutes.
MEDIVH: But, as it happens, in this case the Wizard does not need to!
GARROSH: <sighs> Don’t tell me you’re going to get all cryptic on me now.
LIADRIN: What I think the Wizard means, Garrosh, is that you have the means now to do it yourself.
GARROSH: The what now?
Liadrin points to the Doomstone in Garrosh’s hands.
Huh… This thing can do it? How?
LIADRIN: You need only charge it with the Focusing Iris, and you’ll see.
GARROSH: Huh. Well, you heard her, Edwin. Let’s see what this thing does.
Faranell takes out the Focusing Iris and starts to channel arcane power through it and into the Doomstone. The Doomstone starts to glow, then expand, growing into a heavy gray slab of rock with a single runic symbol etched into it.
LIADRIN: Now all you need to is touch your hand to it and say “Come click on the stone.”
Garrosh gives a quizzical look, then shrugs and puts his hand on the stone.
GARROSH: Come click on the stone.
LIADRIN: That’s it…go on…
GARROSH: Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone…
As he repeats the phrase, Faranall and Mokvar approach and touch the stone as well. The stage lights dim as Medivh’s chamber fades away, and the only things left visible are Garrosh and the stone. A bright light flashes around the stone, and Prince Malchezaar appears.
MALCHEZAAR: <looks around bewildered> What? How—?
GARROSH: Well hey, now we’re in business.
MALCHEZAAR: You! You dare?
GARROSH: Yeah, so, we haven’t really properly met or anything, princy, so let me fill you in – I dare. Like, professionally.
MALCHEZAAR: Madness has brought you here, orc! Now I shall be your undoing!
GARROSH: Seriously, do you bad guys all take a class on these stock threats? Because—
Garrosh reaches to his back to draw Gorehowl, only to find it’s disappeared from its usual place.
Wha— Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously? Again, now?
Laughing menacingly, Malchezaar draws Gorehowl and brandishes it.
MALCHEZAAR: Ha! Have you misplaced this, fool? I remember fondly the day I recovered it from Demon’s Fall!
GARROSH: Ugh, fine, we’ll do this the street-brawl way…
Garrosh rushes at Malchezaar and grapples with him, gripping Gorehowl by its haft when Malchezaar tries to swing it at him.
MALCHEZAAR: Flee now while you can, orc! You do not face Malchezaar alone—
GARROSH: Yeah, yeah, we all know the spiel, squid-face – but you know something? You’re right. I DON’T face Malchezaar alone…
The stage lights come back on, illuminating the normal, minimally dressed stage of the Opera House – with Faranell, Liadrin, Mokvar, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch in a semicircle behind Garrosh and Malchezaar.
Say hello to the legion at my command! SHOW TIME FOR REAL, kids!
MOKVAR: Liking our odds a lot better this time…
While Faranell and Mokvar stand back, casting fireballs and lightning bursts respectively, Liadrin, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch run in to engage Malchezaar at melee range. Malchezaar staggers back and forth under the onslaught of the group, still grappling with Garrosh over their hold on Gorehowl, until Garrosh twists it out of Malchezaar’s grip, leaps up, and cleaves through the demon’s neck, severing his head. Malchezaar’s body slumps to the floor, and the spectral audience bursts into applause.
GARROSH: Wham, bam, the bitch is dead. Bitch.
As the audience continues their applause, Barnes walks to center stage.
BARNES: A splendid finale for a most varied and entertaining evening of theater! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you tonight’s troupe of performers, here for the first and only time for your enjoyment!
The applause rises; Barnes walks back offstage.
MOKVAR: Well that takes care of that.
DONTRAG: We’re done here now, right?
LIADRIN: That should do it, yes…
FARANELL: <standing over Malchezaar’s body somberly> At least now he can stop coming back to die over and over…
MOKVAR: Oh, yeah…I guess you were in your own kind of time loop, weren’t you, Edwin…
LIADRIN: But…Edwin, it would have been a stable loop with you, wouldn’t it? Just one set of events repeating infinitely?
FARANELL: That’s what I’d figured it was going to be…
GARROSH: Wait, what? What do you mean, a stable loop?
FARANELL: When I stayed in old Southshore, and replaced myself. I’d figured I would live through my life like I remembered it, then get to the point where we traveled to the past, and go back with you again, then the events would be complete. And then it would be done, and the cycle would just keep spinning itself.
LIADRIN: That isn’t what happened for you?
FARANELL: <shaking head slowly> It didn’t just repeat. I would live through to our mission to the past, and replace myself again, and pick up my life in the past…and yeah, the loop would keep repeating, but every cycle through, I had to live it through again, and repeat my part of it again, and…
GARROSH: And…?
LIADRIN: Oh…oh no…
FARANELL: …and die again. And be raised again.
MOKVAR: Holy crap…
UTVOCH: Wait, I’m confused, what’s he—
GARROSH: Just this once, will you please SHUT THE FUCK UP?
FARANELL: And so yeah, every time around, I had to live out that repetition fresh. I can still remember every loop, individually…
LIADRIN: Edwin… I’m not sure if I even really want to know, but…how many times did you…go around?
FARANELL: By the time you…I…reset the timelines and broke me out…? 2,734.
LIADRIN: By the Light… You…relived your own death…?
Faranell nods, still staring at Malchezaar.
MOKVAR: Edwin, listen—
FARANELL: Doesn’t really matter at this point. <turns back to the others> Come on. We’re done here. Portal to Orgrimmar coming up.
Faranell summons a portal, and one by one the rest of the group disappears through it.
There’s no place like home…
Faranell ports out. The curtain closes.
