Monthly Archives: January 2013
Underground farmer’s market
While I’m waiting to hear from the Reliquary elves on their latest dig site up in Kun-Lai Summit, I decided to have a look around some of the neighboring areas. Before I came to Pandaria, everybody seemed to be going apeshit over the crazy overflowing farmlands here, and since the Valley of the Four Winds is pretty close by, I figured I’d take a trip down there with Malkorok and the DPS trainees to check it out for myself.
It really is a nice area down there, I’ve gotta say. Kind of reminds me of Nagrand, in fact, what with the grassy plains. Most of the region is covered with farms, and let me tell you, the folks writing in to the mailbag WERE NOT KIDDING about the giant vegetables they’ve got going on down here. Which would be a lot more exciting, granted, if they weren’t, y’know, frigging VEGETABLES.
At one point, I was standing in front of this gigantic carrot that was sprouting out of the ground – like, just the exposed part of the carrot was at least twice as tall as me – and I was saying to the kids how I don’t get the point of having giant-size carrots like this, unless they’ve got giant-sized rabbits to feed around here. And yeah, I know I’ve made that joke before, but check it out – no sooner had I said that, than A GIANT-SIZED RABBIT came hopping out of a burrow and jumped us!
Now granted, it’s not like this thing was especially hard for me and the kids to kill. (To tell the truth, the trainees mostly worked on a bunch of smaller rabbits that came bouncing on in during the fight, but hey, practice is practice.) So, on tonight’s menu: giant roast rabbit.
You know, I think I’ve just found a reason why these giant vegetables might be a good thing after all. Big huge vegetables = big huge herbivores = BIG HUGE MEAT.
Hmm. I should probably rephrase that last part. Jaina might see it and get excited.
Anyway, I figured hunting some of the smaller rabbits – which I guess aren’t quite rabbits, but something the pandas call “virmen” – might make for good practice for the trainees, so I spent a little time going into the burrows with them. The kids are coming along…still a little klutzy, but nothing that more reps won’t fix. Malkorok thought we were wasting our time with all the rabbit hunting, but hey, the kids have to start somewhere.
We went around the valley for a while, poking into those burrows when we found them. Then, after a while, we found what I figured was another burrow in the side of a hill – only when we went in, there weren’t any virmen anywhere to be found. The burrow ended up being a tunnel that led pretty far underground, and as we followed it down, eventually we started hearing some kind of activity in the distance, and could see light around the bend. When we finally got to the end of the tunnel…well, check this out. You’re not going to believe this one.
The tunnel opened to a large room, lit by lanterns hanging from the ceiling. All through the room there were rows of workstations set up with computers, and every one of them was manned by a panda. Mostly kids, from the looks of it, if not all kids. They were all busy working on something on the computers and hardly even noticed us when we came in. Then we started wandering up and down the rows and peeking in on what the pandas were all so locked-in on working on.
They were all playing Earth Online.
Wait, did I say “playing”? Not so much PLAYING, as…well…farming dollars in-game. And then some of them seemed to be on the sales end of the business, hanging out in the capital cities and spamming trade chat with their ads. Seems like the ones who were doing that all had a couple pre-set chat-spamming macros with their set announcements. You know the ones…
[Trade] Plz pay attention to the hot news! Happy weekend and all our friends. For customer in celebration old and new, we special offer on dollars! Now only 1000g = $250$dollar !!! Welcome to WWW. dollardollarbillyall .COM !! Come on!
So yeah, THAT’S where all those motherfuckers come from! Messed up, right?
Obviously I wasn’t going to leave THIS little operation going. I tried explaining my low-grade freak-out over it to Malkorok, but he’s not a gamer and doesn’t understand why I waste my time on that stuff anyway, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t really follow when I tried to spell out to him what these people were doing. I think he pretty much stopped trying to grasp it after he got to the “they’re doing something that Garrosh apparently does not like” stage, and recommended we just kill them.
Meanwhile, one of the trainees, this budding shaman named Ruekie, was already working on a less deathy solution: she started going around talking to the panda kids, and found out they were getting paid like 6 copper an hour for this gig. (I know, right?) So then SHE pointed out the (pretty damn modest but way more than 6c/hour) allowance that Horde trainees get paid, and woo boy, did THAT news spread like wildfire through the room.
So, bottom line, within about 20 minutes we had several dozen panda kids asking to sign on as trainees, and bouncing around on their chairs yelling “For the Horde!” once we’d finished signing them up. Burzum, Ishi, and Krimpatul are about to have a whole lot more mentoring work on their hands than they were probably counting on.
And I didn’t even have to offer to let them punch me in the face.
(Fuck you, Varian.)
Demon’s Bargain
After the dead end in Winterspring, I mentioned that I still had one more possible stone to turn over. It’s not one I particularly wanted to turn over, considering who I’d be finding under it, but at this point I don’t really have the luxury of wasting time and hoping something else falls into my lap. So yesterday, I took a walk down to the Cleft of Shadow to have a talk with Neeru Fireblade.
I had known Neeru a little when I had first started training as a warlock, but since moving to Orgrimmar and changing to shamanism, I hadn’t had contact with him beyond occasionally passing on the street. I’d always avoided the Cleft of Shadow; after Thrall gave me sanctuary in Orgrimmar, the last thing I wanted was to be caught anywhere near the fel magic of the warlocks. Now, after years of avoiding the place, I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy just from purple light that illuminated the cavern as I made my way down.
Neeru Fireblade channels a spell while Mokvar approaches.
MOKVAR: Neeru.
NEERU: <looking at Mokvar over his shoulder> Mokvar. Just a moment.
Neeru finishes channeling. Small flames burst from a large windroc carcass that sits on a nearby table, then flicker out after a moment. Neeru turns to Mokvar and points to the sizzling fowl with a smirk.
Undercooked.
MOKVAR: What do you do if it needs salt?
NEERU: Count myself lucky that I didn’t make a larger mess of the preparation than that. I’m hardly a chef.
Neeru sits down at the table.
I hope you don’t mind if I go ahead with dinner.
He gestures to a second chair across from him; Mokvar sits.
It’s been a long time, Mokvar. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you venture down this way. What brings you to the land invocations and mediocre cuisine?
MOKVAR: I’m looking for information, and I think you may be on the short list of people who might have it.
NEERU: <gnawing on a leg from the roasted windroc> I’m hardly a person in the know these days, but ask away.
MOKVAR: The Nether Prism.
Neeru pulls the drumstick away from his face slowly and looks up.
NEERU: Well now. What have you gotten yourself into, Mokvar?
MOKVAR: More a matter of what I’m trying to get myself out of.
NEERU: All the more interesting, then. I haven’t heard talk of that particular bauble in an age.
MOKVAR: I wish I could say the same.
NEERU: <eyes Mokvar closely> The last I heard of the Prism, it was in the hands – or claws, I suppose – of that drakonid Valthalak.
MOKVAR: That was years ago. After that, it made its was to an imp named Vi’el, in Darkwhisper Gorge.
NEERU: If you’re interested in the Prism, why don’t you go seek out the imp, then?
MOKVAR: I did. He’s dead. What became of the Prism from that point is anyone’s guess.
NEERU: Really now. And how did you happen to know about this imp in the first place?
MOKVAR: Let’s just say it took a roundabout path getting from Blackrock Spire to the imp.
Neeru leans back in his seat and folds his arms.
NEERU: You? You mean to tell me, Mokvar, that a relic as potent as the Nether Prism managed to change hands from Gul’dan all the way down to the likes of you?
MOKVAR: When you’re starting with Gul’dan, I don’t know if “down” is the right word.
NEERU: <chuckling and picking up the windroc leg again> Well well, Mokvar…you say you came to me for information, but it seems I’m learning a fair bit more from you.
MOKVAR: I think you know more than you let on.
Mokvar leans forward and drums his fingers on the table.
Then again, so do I.
Mokvar glances around at the other warlocks practicing invocations.
How many of them will it take?
NEERU: <mouth half full of windroc meat> Take? For what?
Mokvar leans closer to the table.
MOKVAR: To channel your targeting beacon for the demons.
Neeru drops the windroc leg on his plate and looks up.
How many warlocks? How many of your collagues…in the Burning Blade?
NEERU: The Burning Blade died with the last vestiges of the old Horde. Anyone will tell you I cut my ties with them when I pledged my loyalties to Thrall.
MOKVAR: <nods> Of course.
Neeru starts to reach for his food again.
Are you waiting for a signal from any agent of the Legion, or are you on hold for Malchezaar specifically? You might be waiting a while if it’s the second one.
NEERU: I don’t know where you’re getting these fairy tales, Mokvar, but—
MOKVAR: You know, it’s a funny thing. Grom Hellscream died slaying Mannoroth and freeing our people. Now his son walks around wearing the demon’s tusks, and sits on a throne carved out of its skull. It would be a shame if the Warchief got the notion that someone in Orgrimmar was still cooking up something with the Legion.
NEERU: <waving toward Ragefire Chasm> If you really think Garrosh is above cutting ethical corners for the sake of—
MOKVAR: If you’d like to roll the dice on how Garrosh would react, be my guest. It’s not my neck at stake.
Neeru stares down at his food.
NEERU: I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t know what’s become of the Nether Prism.
MOKVAR: But?
NEERU: But if I were to hazard a guess as to where it might have gone…after the imp… <glances around furtively> There have been…rumblings among the warlocks since the fall of Deathwing. It started when the human Kanrethad reconvened his circle of fel masters, the same ones who had worked to expand the powers of the warlocks before the Cataclysm.
MOKVAR: I’d heard about that much – the Council of the Black Harvest, isn’t it?
NEERU: <nods> Our own Ritssyn from here in Orgrimmar was among them.
MOKVAR: What are they doing?
NEERU: Running around on fool’s errands all over the world – and beyond – to seek out even greater sources of power for themselves. That Kanrethad thinks he can build a coven of the mightiest warlocks in existence and position himself at its head.
MOKVAR: You don’t think they’ll be able to do it?
NEERU: I think that when you set out with a plan of “Let’s go make ourselves more powerful than anyone ever,” you find either disaster or a far heftier price than you’d counted on.
Mokvar nods.
Nevertheless. If the Black Harvest are trying to consolidate their power, I’d hazard a guess that the Nether Prism would be just the sort of item that would interest them.
MOKVAR: Do you know what’s become of Ritssyn?
NEERU: I believe he and one of the others made their way off to the Firelands. For all the good that will do you.
MOKVAR: What’s that supposed to mean?
NEERU: Mokvar, don’t you be a fool too. You can’t seriously expect that the Black Harvest would talk to you.
MOKVAR: I think I’ve already shown I can be pretty persuasive.
NEERU: <chuckles> Mokvar, don’t be naïve. You’re hardly one of the movers and shakers of the world, I’ll grant, but surely you can’t believe that you’re not noticed. Standing for all those years in Thrall’s council room. Attending advisors’ meetings with the leaders of the Horde. Hellscream’s personal scribe. Never mind the fact that they’ll know you were a warlock yourself once before you decided you didn’t want to dirty your hands with the fel arts any longer. Do you really think they’ll be willing to tell you anything?
MOKVAR: I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to be very persuasive.
NEERU: Assuming you can even find them.
MOKVAR: We’ll see. <getting up> Anyway, I suppose I got what I came for, or as close to it as I’m going to. Enjoy your dinner, Neeru.
Mokvar turns to walk away.
NEERU: Mokvar.
Mokvar stops and looks back.
How did you know?
MOKVAR: How did I know what?
NEERU: Don’t play games with me. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.
Mokvar grins.
MOKVAR: Let’s just say I get around.
I left Neeru and made my way out of the Cleft of Shadow, mostly preoccupied with how I was going to track down the Council of the Black Harvest. I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the light go dimmer than it should have as I went up the last bend of the cavern. That’s when two spectral assassins appeared out of nowhere and attacked me.
I fought them off as best I could for a minute, but my shocks and chain lightnings aren’t nearly as potent as a shaman who’s been training at it his whole life. They were quickly gaining the upper hand when Garona unstealthed behind them and had at both of them with a flurry of blades that was faster than my eyes could follow. It bears noting, by the way: Garona’s no joke in combat. I hadn’t really noticed before. Those spectral assassins dropped fast. While she resheathed her weapons, I tried to come up with something to say without much success.
MOKVAR: Garona…I…
GARONA: Garrosh knows what you’re doing. I hope you do, too.
MOKVAR: Then why…?
GARONA: Before he left for Pandaria, he asked me to look out for you. Until he tells me otherwise, that’s what I’m going to do.
MOKVAR: Well…thanks…
GARONA: Don’t. You know that if he tells me kill you, I’ll have to.
Mokvar nods and starts to turn to go.
Don’t give him a reason to.
Garona stealths.
I think it’s safe to assume that pretty soon Garrosh will be getting a letter informing him that I went to see Neeru Fireblade. I don’t figure that’s going to do a whole lot to improve his mood any. Still, he’s having Garona go on protecting me, for now at least. And with these two assassins down, chances are I’ve got a couple days before I have to worry about the next wave coming for me.
Still, I don’t have the luxury of a lot of time. I have a new lead to follow, and it needs to lead somewhere quickly.
Mokvar
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Moving on to Plan B
This package arrived for me a few days ago through Grommash Hold – I guess as a guest blogger these days I’m in the mailbag business myself.
This package is addressed to:
Mokvar
c/o Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief
Grommash Hold, Orgrimmar
Kalimdor, Azeroth
It arrives looking quite a bit the worse for wear. Its sides are battered and one corner has been entirely crushed in. The brown paper wrapping has been dirtied and torn but the numerous postmarks stamped on it are still legible. Although it seems to have originated in Orgrimmar it appears to have been mysteriously routed through Ratchet, Booty Bay, Grom’gol Base Camp, Brill and finally back to Orgrimmar.
Inside the box is a large variety of random items in various states of disrepair: A partial stack of 14 Ankhs; a rabbit’s foot with several patches of fur missing; a small glass vial labeled “MOJO” in carefully penned block letters; a rather larger glass bottle labeled “TROLL SWEAT” in the same handwriting; a well-loved toy teddy bear; partial stacks of mageweave, frostweave and windwool bandages; 3 minor health potions and a large bag of crumbs which might be the remains of several dozen chocolate cookies.
At the very bottom of the box is a scrap of parchment which reads:
Mokvar,
How you doin’, mon? I hear you been injured somewhat and even killed! Good t’ing it didn’t take dis time. We shaman gotta stick together, so here are some t’ings to help you feel better soon.
Take care and watch yer back, mon.
–Kaeliss, Valley of the Spirits, Orgrimmar
Thanks, Kaeliss. I appreciate the gesture. Somehow I get the feeling that I might need all that stuff in the days ahead. (Although, what’s up with the troll sweat? I’ve never really understood why you guys bottle that stuff.)
So, speaking of which…and speaking of the mail… There’s good news and there’s bad news.
The good news is that since I, you know, read this blog, I know now that Garrosh has had Garona shadowing me and knows I’ve been meeting with Deliana. (At least he meant well, I suppose.)
The bad news is that Garrosh knows I’ve been meeting with Deliana. And that I’ve been up to something in Winterspring. And apparently sneaking around. And spirits only know how many dots he’s been connecting in his head based on what Garona told him.
So…there goes my plan to bring this whole story to Garrosh.
I suppose I still could. Even considering that he’s suspicious now, predisposed to assume the worst, and probably irritable even by Garrosh standards, I suppose I could still try to go to him with this. I could lay out the whole story, and explain why I’ve been keeping these things hidden, and why I’ve been working with a human whose last mailing address was in Ironforge. And I could detail all of this to Garrosh and hope he’ll listen with an open mind and be reasonable and even-handed in his response.
So, yeah, see? There goes my plan to bring this whole story to Garrosh.
At least not yet. At this point, sooner or later I’m going to have to answer to Garrosh, and when I do, the only chance I’m going to have is if have some definite, final answers to all of this – as in, problem solved, spectral assassins dealt with, Deliana long gone from Horde territory, all loose ends tied up. I can’t leave any room for any kind of “What about X?” “Yeah, uh, still working on that” to happen.
And I have to do all this before Garrosh gets back from Pandaria.
And I also have to do this while I know I’m being watched. Can I mention how unnerving that is, by the way?
(Hi, Garona, if you happen to be stealthed in the room right now and looking over my shoulder while I’m typing this.)
(Also, please look away for a minute while I close a few browser tabs. Thanks.)
Mokvar
[Header image (and reader mail!) provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Mogu relics and panda oversights
Let me just say again, this Sanctum of Two Moons is a pretty awesome place. I could totally get used to hanging out here. That is, if I didn’t have Lor’the’motherfucker hanging around grumbling the whole time.
It took a lot of poking and prodding, but I finally got SOMETHING useful out of those blood elves, though. Belloc Brightblade and his Reliquary dug up some mogu ruins to the west of here – those would be the race that ruled Pandaria before the pandas overthrew them – and found records of a relic called the Divine Bell. From the sound of it, one of the past mogu emperors was able to use the Divine Bell to supercharge his soldiers’ power, which sounds like something that would be damn handy. There are more mogu ruins in the mountains to the north, so I’m having Regent-Lord Ponytail send his people out there to get to work and see if they can track down what became of this Divine Bell.
While they get started on that, I may do a little exploring around these parts. Gotta say, Pandaria seems like a pretty cool place. Not least of all for all the food and beer.
One thing strikes me as a little odd, though. Follow with me on this. So, Pandaria used to be ruled by these mogu, and now apparently they’re back stirring up trouble again. Fine. And these mogu used to have the power to take living souls and fuse them into stone, so that the stone could be animated and made to serve them, and become like a living stone weapon. And if you look around here in Pandaria, there are mogu ruins and statues, like, everywhere.
So…explain this to me, first of all. If you were ruled and oppressed by a race for thousands of years…and you overthrew them and freed yourself…and you knew these enemies had the power to, like, make statues COME ALIVE AND KILL YOU…once you’d defeated them, wouldn’t you, I don’t know, GET RID OF ALL THE FUCKING STATUES? Is it just me?
So, okay, that’s weird enough as far as oversights go. But check out part two. So okay, I guess the main line of defense that these pandas have going against the mogu is a group called the Golden Lotus. And the Golden Lotus people have their main base of operations here in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms, at a place called the Golden Pagoda. Here, have a look:
Now that much is fine. But see if you can spot the problem I’m seeing in their decision-making here.
…Yeah.
Monday mailbag
I arrived a couple days ago here at the Sanctum of Two Moons, and I’ve been getting settled in and learning the lay of the land since then. While we have a little break in the action, I figured this might be a good time to dip into the ol’ mailbag…
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
Call off the search patrols! I’m ok!
I know everyone must have been sick with worry the last few months since my sudden disappearance, (my colleagues up in Northrend must have been particularly disturbed by my absence); however, I can reassure you all that I am finally safe and sound.
Where have I been, you might ask? Ah, friend, that is a tale indeed! A tale of wonder and adventure! I was swimming with the Orca folk in the northern oceans and discovered a new shape-shifting technique that permitted me to assume the very form of a noble whale person myself. Wearing my new visage, I was able to communicate with them in their own language — a very melodious tongue with beautiful but complex rules of grammar — and became assimilated into their culture.
Engrossed in my cetacean studies, I lost track of time and eventually track of my own self. I forgot my previous life as a Night Elf and the thought of living on land became as alien to me as the thought of drinking fire would be to any but a fire elemental. I lived as a whale; I laughed as a whale; I loved as a whale; and finally I migrated south with the rest of my pod.
O! What a journey that was! The tales I could tell of the fantastical denizens of the deep! But alas! I have not the space here to elaborate further. (Look for my upcoming book on my experiences, working title: “Darling it’s Better Down Where it’s Wetter”.)
But all good things must come to an end. There was an enormous storm, the violence of which penetrated even the depths of the sea. I was separated from my pod and flung about at the mercy of the waves. At last I was washed up on dry land and lay helplessly beached, drying out in the sun. I looked death in the eye that day and all hope left me. At last I fell unconscious and lay senseless on the shore.
When I came to I was surrounded by curious creatures. They looked like some sort of Furbolg, but were covered with black and white fur from head to toe and called themselves “Pandaren”. They clothed me and helped me to my feet, at which point I realized that I was a Night Elf again. All my memories came flooding back. I was my full self once more.
I spent a few days in the care of these kind Pandaren. They told me many fascinating stories about this previously unknown land and informed me that many other peoples from both the Horde and the Alliance had recently arrived and made contact with them. And so I am writing you this missive to allay your fears about my welfare.
Also, could you please lend me a small amount of gold and arrange transportation for me back to Northrend? I seem to have misplaced all my possessions. Thanks.
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Huh. Okay, so…I’m going to set aside the fact that Lather-on-us here seems to think he and I are buddies or something, because hey, as long as he thinks I can stand the sight of him, maybe that helps tone down the whining and complaining and protesting every time I try to eat a ham on rye.
So setting that aside… Dude, you were missing? Was I supposed to notice that shit?
Actually, come to think of it, you WERE all AWOL that time I went to check in with your DEHTA flunkies, weren’t you? But man, that was AGES ago – were you seriously out mucking around with the fishes all that time?
Still, funny that you would wind up landing in the same place that everyone else has been converging on lately. Especially since it’s the same place that was hidden and cloaked in mists and totally unreachable and inaccessible to anyone for every and ever for like thousands of years until everybody and their uncle started winding up there like a month ago. I would say it’s what all the cool kids are doing, but, you know, that doesn’t really help explain YOU being here. Or Varian. Or…well, pretty much anyone other than me. But whatever. OH HEY, actually, you know one other cool kid who HAS turned up here in Pandaria? Hemet Nesingwary! You know him, right? Small world.
As for the gold… Yeah, um, I think you’re gonna need to scrape together cab fare for yourself. I gave at the office. Maybe see if you can do some busywork for the Anglers in exchange for a little pocket change?
I’m guessing your blog has been lagging behind while you venture into Pandaria. I recently encountered you in the Shrine of Two Moons during your visit. Unfortunately, I was under the influence of a Blingtron 4000, and looked like a human instead of a proud Horde member. See the attached photos for how poorly this went for me.
Enjoy the rest of your trip!
–WookieeBH
Yeesh, dude, what’s up with the “lagging behind” shit, I only just got here a couple days ago. I do remember you, though, Wookiee – among the many random asshats who swung by to make my day more tedious, you and your little getup were especially asshattery. Although I did kind of get a chuckle out of it when your dog or hyena or whatever took a dump on Malkorok’s boots. Dude gets so grumpy about things. Heh.
Anyway, as you can see from the pictures, I’ve been hanging out at the Sanctum of Two Moons for the past couple days, which let me tell you is a pretty boss place. Unfortunately, I only had a couple hours to enjoy it before I was joined by – as you can also see from the pictures – our old friend Regent-Lord Hair-Care. Whose mood, by the way, hasn’t improved much lately. Only, get this – in light of some of the slapping-around I’ve had to give him lately, now he feels the need to bring company everywhere he goes:
This would be Ellendra Palescorn…his bodyguard.
Yes, his bodyguard.
I swear, only among the blood elves would it go over as a plan to be like, “You know, I really need someone to help keep my scrawny, twiggy ass safe”…and then hire someone scrawnier and twiggier.
Thank goodness they’re good at magic, is all I’m gonna say.
I still can’t believe Vol’jin be dead, mon! But I betcha he always gonna he wit us in spirit. I can practically feel his spirit wit me now, mon – it’s almost like he be right here writin’ dis letter wit me!
I know ya got ya Kor’kron people down here in de Echo Isles ta keep us safe, mon, but I don’ be likin’ dis Gul’tar guy dey got in charge. I’m tellin’ ya, sometin’ bad gonna happen wit day guy! If ya be askin’ me, I tink ya betta keep a close eye on what he goin’ on down here. Wouldn’t want sometin’ slippin’ between da cracks, ya know, mon?
–Bob, Echo Isles
Oh, great, this guy again. And so of course, just as soon as I get ONE grumbling troll out of my hair, ANOTHER one pops up to take his place. Almost like Vol’jin isn’t gone at all, indeed.
Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve mentioned that before, so just in case you’ve been living under a rock the last couple weeks…you remember that mission I’d sent Vol’jin on when he first got to Pandaria? Yeah. Didn’t go so well for him. Boo hoo. Moving on.
So anyway, Bobbo, sorry if you don’t like the cut of Gul’tar’s jib, whatever a jib is, but you know what? I’m not going to waste my time trying to micromanage every move my people make down there. If Gul’tar needs anything, I’m pretty certain he’ll let me know, and if anything important is going on there, I’m damn sure they’ll send word to me about it. So until I hear something from them, I’ll be keeping my nose out of the goings-on down in the Echo Isles, which is a good thing what with the smell down there because WTF are you trolls burning all the time anyway?
(the parchment appears to have been chewed on a bit on one corner and has a few smears of dark mud at the bottom)
Hail Warchief!
I am writing to you to apply for the position of scribe. I have been taught in the very best tents of Thunder Bluff. I am a tauren, albeit a bit small, and that wet dog smell is a condition I have. Some say I appear to be wearing a badly made tauren suit, but that’s hurtful because I got these stitches in service to the Horde! I wish to put my skills to use serving my Warchief! I feel that I would be best suited for this position given my extensive linguistic skills and utter loyalty. After all, you can’t be too careful these days. There could be Alliance spies anywhere. As a professional tracker I could help with this also. Afterall, it’d be ashamed if anything….happened. I hope my Warchief finds me worthy of being right by his side.
–Legit Tauren Scribe
Hey, LTS, thanks for writing in. I’m glad people are still showing interest in the scribe position after that…erm…mixed-results audition thing. Right now I think I’m going to see how things work out with Gurtash covering the scribing, in his own doodly sort of way, but I’ll definitely keep you in line. It wouldn’t hurt at all to have a couple competent backup options, in case the kid gets too busy with other assignments or what-have-you. That said, with any luck it won’t be too long before Mokvar’s back on the job, assuming we can get his weird-ass marked-for-death situation under wraps sometime soon.
Reporting in re: your special assignment. As per your request, have been maintaining stealthed surveillance on Mokvar in order to provide additional protection in light of recent attacks.
Have come across unexpected complications.
While in Winterspring with his panda friend, Mokvar was seen meeting with an unidentified human woman. The two seemed very familiar; shortly thereafter embarked together on journey to Darkwhisper Gorge. Seen scouring cave formerly occupied by now-deceased imp. Appeared to be searching for something; overheard references to relic of some kind, demonic power, domination of wills.
Will continue to monitor Mokvar’s activities and continue protection against attackers until further instructions received.
–Garona Halforcen, Everlook
The…FUCK?
So hang on, I worry about Mokvar’s safety to the point that I assign one of the best rogues in the business to follow his ass around and look out for him while I’m away…and THIS is what I get for it? Meeting up with some HUMAN? Sneaking around trying to do spirits know WHAT?
Yeah, this…this is NOT going to be good for my mood, let me tell you that right now.
In fact, I think on that note it’s time for me to step away from the computer for a few. And possibly go smack someone or something around for a little while.
More soon.
EPIC anti-motivation
Just a quick follow-up today on yesterday’s post. Since Gurtash really did manage to capture the…difficulties of being Warchief around this particular cast of characters, and some of you seemed to pick up on it, I thought I’d provide you with a little bonus material. So here, first and foremost:
And here:
I’m getting ready now to take a trip up to the Shrine of Two Moons, up in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. Malkorok has been up there advance-scouting things along with the Reliquary crew. It’ll be interesting to see what they’ve dug up.
More soon.
Thinking outside the box, coloring inside the lines
So, now that I’m no longer (mostly) dealing with the damn boss-level Pandaren flu, I can get back to a few things I’d been wanting to update you all on. A few days ago, just before the last wave of ships arrived from Kalimdor (along with the always-delightful former chieftain of the Darkspear trolls), I noticed Gurtash on some down time doodling pictures of the base and some of the officers. It got me thinking that maybe the kid could provide me with an outside-the-box way around my whole lack-of-a-scribe situation.
What’s that? You don’t follow how Gurtash drawing could help me keep my transcription needs covered until Mokvar’s back on board? Well here, have a look for yourself at the kid’s first practice project from the other day:
* Sylvanas baited D&U into asking Overlord Cliffwalker about this here.
Not bad. I mean, it’s pretty doodly, and his proportions need work, and let’s face it, it doesn’t come anywhere near capturing my level of awesome, but to be fair, that would be too much to expect him to get on paper in one pass anyway. Kid’s only fourteen, after all. Overall, though…yeah, I’m thinking Gurtash may have found himself a new part-time job.
A sniffly Warchief is a cranky Warchief
So in all the scouting reports we got on Pandaria before coming down here, all the pages and pages of description of the peoples and cultures and flora and fauna, HERE’S a little tidbit that nobody knew until now: The flu germs they’ve got here will fucking put you on your ASS.
This Pandaren flu hit a bunch of us, yours truly included, out of nowhere a couple days ago, and let me tell you, HOLY CRAP is this shit not fun. It’s extremely hard to shout orders with authority when you burst into a hacking cough three words in, so I’ve been mostly staying in my quarters resting up, while Warlord Bloodhilt and General Nazgrim tend to most of the goings-on here at the base.
Ben-Lin Cloudstrider, who came with us for the trip, has been checking in on me, and right as soon as I started to come down with this thing, she used some of the crane meat that the trainees have been gathering to whip me up a big pot of this Pandaren wildfowl soup. Gotta say, as much as I think her whole anger management deal is way too touchy-feely for my tastes, Ben DOES kind of have a whole Greatmother vibe going. Which is mostly good, because hey, homemade soup brought right to me. Maybe not quite so great when I decide to try to come downstairs and tough my way through some work, and she goes all “YOU GET BACK TO BED AND REST UP RIGHT NOW, YOUNG MAN” on me. (“Yeah, but I—” “No buts! You are sick and need your rest!” “Now hang on, I—” “DO NOT MAKE ME GET OUT MY SERIOUS FACE!”)
So, yeah. Between the flu and the ongoing spotty internet down here, updates may be a little slower than usual the next few days. On the up side, that buys Gurtash a little extra time to finish up a project I’ve got him on. With any luck, you’ll hear more about that soon.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go hack up a lung and pass out.
Spazzle Speaks: Darkspear Edition
Big news just came in from Pandaria, and there’s really no good way to say it, so here goes.
Vol’jin is dead.
He was on a mission investigating a cave with Rak’gor Bloodrazor, Grizzle Gearslip, and a detachment of Kor’kron, when they were ambushed by saurok marauders. Before the group could fend off the saurok, Vol’jin had been killed. Word is that Rak’gor Bloodrazor died in the fight as well.
The news broke in Orgrimmar earlier today, and as you can probably imagine, people are freaking out over it. Especially in the Valley of Spirits. Eitrigg has ordered flags flown at half mast over the next week.
I’m not sure who’s going to take over at the Echo Isles. I was never too clear about Darkspear rules of succession, to be honest. In the meantime, while everyone sorts out what happens next, the Kor’kron are sending a unit led by Gul’tar down to the Echo Isles to maintain order and guard against any moves by the Alliance to take advantage of the instability.
At least that’s how they’re explaining it. Who knows what’s actually going on. All I know at this point is I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
There goes the neighborhood
The Dragonmaw work crews have finished construction on Domination Point, and can I just say again what an awesome job they did getting the place built in no time flat? Seriously, just a few days, and they have a whole fortress up and done. I don’t even want to THINK about how long this would have taken if I’d let the goblins who did (or should I say ARE STILL DOING AND YES IT’S BEEN TWO FUCKING YEARS) Orgrimmar were working on it.
So that’s the good news. The bad news is, no sooner did we finish construction on the place than guess who comes strolling on in with the newest wave of troops – Vol’jin. After I SPECIFICALLY TOLD EVERYBODY not to tell him when we were leaving for Pandaria, to boot. I guess I should count my blessings, what with him showing up by himself. With my luck, it’s a miracle he didn’t bring Baine along with him. And of course, now that I’ve said that, watch Baine show up here too. Just what I need.
Anyway, Vol’jin turned up, and hold on to your ass, you’re never going to believe this, but guess what he started doing right off the bat? If you guessed “COMPLAINING,” congratulations, you’ve been paying attention the last few months. He went on and on, dontragging about us spreading our war to a new land, and utvoching about us driving the pandas away from the Horde with what we’re doing, and blah blah, boo hoo.
Want to know how much I care about Vol’jin’s objections at this point? Here, I’ll give it to you in Earth Online tooltip terms:
Yeah. That’s how much I care.
Of course, that didn’t stop Captain Camel Toe from griping up a storm for a while more, so I finally decided I was going to have to do something with him if I was ever going to get any peace. We’d gotten reports from our scouts about a saurok cave far to the east – the saurok being these crazy aggressive lizard people who used to be shock troops in the pre-panda empire here – so I told Vol’jin I wanted him to go with the unit I was sending to check it out. He still gave me some lip, but agreed to go. He’s heading out that way now with Rak’gor Bloodrazor and a team of Kor’kron, along with a few volunteers from among the adventurers here at the base. With any luck, Rak’gor will manage to get the troll out of my hair for a while.
Since they left, I’ve been going over documents here in the office I’ve set up in the main keep. We have no shortage of notes here on Pandaria and its peoples, not to mention scouting reports on Alliance activity to the east. Thing is, though, as much as I have information overload on all those fronts, and as important as it is for me to be getting our plans in order, the main document I’ve found myself focusing on for the last hour or so doesn’t have much of anything to do with Pandaria. It doesn’t really have much in the way of pertinent information at all. And yet I have it here on the desk, staring up at me, pulling my attention away from everything else. A worn, bloodied scrap of paper, written in the slanted hand of an apothecary who never existed.
They’re going to turn against you. Don’t let them.
Maybe this is what he was trying to warn me about. Maybe not. I may never know for sure. All I know for sure is this: Dranosh died so that the Horde would have a chance to prevail. And I’ll be damned before I let it be for nothing.
I’ll be damned.
And I can live with it.
“Seriously, mon, ya tink I didn’t notice ya talkin’ ta dat guy all quiet? Oh, no, mon, dere’s nuttin’ fishy goin’ on here at all.”
