Monthly Archives: January 2013
Demonology Anonymous
Now for the hard part.
I left out a few details last time about my past with the Veiled Blade, and everything that’s been going on recently.
I said before that when we killed Lord Valthalak, we took his spellbook along with the pieces of an amulet that ended up bringing the spectral assassins down on us. But there was one more part of the spoils: a demon relic called the Nether Prism, a crystal that could be used, among other things, to focus fel energies and dominate the will of demons. I was a warlock back in those days, and I arranged to have the prism included as part of our deal with Malkorok. I wanted to see how much the Prism could be used to augment my powers.
I thought I could handle it. I thought wrong.
The Prism magnified the power of my spells for sure, and for brief windows of time I could use it to control powerful demons. At least more powerful than the dime-a-dozen ones that your garden variety warlocks can summon. In more powerful hands than mine, I suppose it could have been used on even greater ones. But if there’s one thing I learned, it was that I was nowhere near warlock enough to master the energies that flowed through that crystal and keep them under control.
It became pretty clear to me that I couldn’t afford to keep toying around with the Prism. The problem was, though, that it wasn’t going to be as simple as sticking it in the back of the sock drawer and forgetting about it. The Nether Prism radiated fel energies. Demons were drawn to it. And using its magic to deal with the demons when they turned up would just make it radiate more.
As if life wasn’t already too complicated, it was at this point that I learned Valthalak’s spectral assassins were making short work of the rest of the Veiled Blade. I couldn’t keep taking my chances running around from place to place alone. So I turned to Thrall. He offered me sanctuary in Orgrimmar; all he asked was that I be on hand to aid the Warchief when needed. I only ever told him the barest details about my past. I never said a word about the Nether Prism. Thrall was only barely willing to tolerate the presence of warlocks in Orgrimmar at all, given the orcs’ history; I couldn’t imagine he would have been willing to take me in if he’d known the whole story. It’s hardly a coincidence that that was when I abandoned demonology altogether and took up shamanism. I wasn’t about the bring dishonor upon the man who’d given me a safe haven, or overstay my welcome.
So, the Nether Prism had to go. In the last days before I moved to Orgrimmar, I traveled to Darkwhisper Gorge in Winterspring. Hidden away in a cave there was an imp named Vi’el, a collector of relics and exotic items. I passed the Prism off onto him and hoped he wouldn’t realize what he had on his hands. I know looking back that it probably wasn’t the wisest move in the world, but at that point I just wanted the blasted thing off my hands. So I left it with Vi’el, and went on to Orgrimmar to begin my new life. And started working out ways to deal with the spectral assassins before they came knocking on my door.
For a while, it worked. I thought that chapter was done. But as often ends up being the case around here, life still had one more surprise epilogue waiting.
As soon as the spectral assassins attacked me in the Drag, I knew what they were and where they were from. Even with Ji fighting by my side, they were able to wear me down fairly quickly; Ji kept fending them off as best he could while I watched for an opening to pop back up. That was the point when we had one more surprise guest, this time a face from the past that was actually welcome: Deliana. She’d stealthed her way into Orgrimmar to come looking for me, and after she helped Ji and I fight off the assassins, she snuck back with us to my house to compare notes.
The notes weren’t good. Something had stirred Valthalak’s spirit; I remember when he’d been laid to rest the first last time, the adventurers I’d sent mentioned him saying something about things being settled “for now,” but I didn’t really give it much thought at the time. Now, though, he was awake again and sending out his assassins. Only this time, it wasn’t over the amulet; it was over the Nether Prism.
From Deliana’s perspective, this all started with Theldren turned up in Ironforge, seeking protection from Moira Thaurissan. Something had brought the last scattered remains of Nefarian’s old minions out of hiding and sent them scrambling after anything demon-related they could find. Deliana overheard Theldren repeating that “something’s coming,” whatever that means. We don’t know most of the why’s and wherefores; all we do know is that whatever’s behind it has stirred Valthalak enough to make him want his old trinket back.
I wasn’t going to go to Garrosh with any of this. I didn’t think he would have received the last bit about my past with the demons well in the best of circumstances, much less now that we’d been through that ordeal with the Burning Legion in the other timeline. Not to mention the minor detail that I was fraternizing with a human in Deliana. We decided that we had to keep her involvement in all of this a secret; Ji, being maybe the one person who was truly neutral to all of this, came into our confidence.
It became pretty clear pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to be possible for Deliana to stay hidden in Orgrimmar, especially after Garrosh stepped up security for me after the attack. (At least he meant well.) Deliana even had a run-in with Malkorok at one point when he was coming to talk to me and happened to catch her sneaking her way to my house. She was only able to get away because Ji happened along and was able to blindside Malkorok with a Quaking Palm that stunned him. We got Deliana out of Orgrimmar and she went into hiding in Azshara, with Ji stepping up to ferry messages back and forth between us.
Which brings us to Winterspring. The trip to Timbermaw Hold was basically just a cover for us to meet up with Deliana in Everlook, and from there…Darkwhisper Gorge, to find Vi’el. After the Cataclysm, most of the demons had abandoned the gorge for the underground caves, and the Twilight’s Hammer had moved in. Now the cultists were gone and the demons were back in force – and gone crazy, fighting among themselves. Even back in the day, there weren’t this many of them. We could barely turn around without being jumped by another felguard or pack of felhounds.
We found Vi’el at his cave – dead. The cave had been ransacked; half of the belongings that remained had been burned, singed with green flames. We turned the place upside down, but it became apparent fairly quickly that there wasn’t anything to be found.
I’m not sure where we go from here. The spectral assassins are still coming, Krog already having intercepted one just the other day. Vi’el was the only lead we had back to the Nether Prism, which I have to figure is our only means of getting the situation under control. Short of dying. Again. Deliana has gone back into hiding in Azshara while we come up with a new plan. I think I might have one more possible stone to turn over, but it may reach the point – in fact, I suspect it will soon – when I need to give up the secrecy and bring all this to Garrosh. Hopefully he’ll understand.
I should maybe go see about making some lemon squares.
Mokvar
Confessions of a Mercenary
Since Ji and I got back from Winterspring, I’ve had a lot on my mind. Everyone could tell we’d been injured – nothing major, but enough to catch people’s attention, especially considering how concerned everyone has been about me the last few weeks. I hadn’t really planned to talk to anyone about what happened while we were up there. I still prefer not to. But after Krog had another run-in with an attacker the other day, people are going to keep asking more and more questions. So I think it’s time for me to start filling in some blanks.
The blanks start long before Winterspring.
Years ago, before I’d come to Orgrimmar, I was part of a mercenary group called the Veiled Blade. On one of our jobs, we had been hired to acquire the spellbook of a dragonkin in Blackrock Spire named Lord Valthalak, one of Nefarian’s lieutenants in those days. As often happens with these kinds of things, that involved killing him. Mostly, anyway. Trouble is, though, between Nefarian’s forces and his alliance at the time with Rend Blackhand’s Blackrock orcs, getting to Valthalak and killing him wasn’t going to be an easy task.
That’s where we cut a deal. As it turns out, not all the Blackrock orcs where exactly thrilled with Rend putting them in Nefarian’s service…and, long story short, we managed to come to an arrangement with Rend’s head of security – an orc named Malkorok. He would deliberately leave prearranged gaps in the guard patrols leading to Valthalak. We would slip in, kill him, collect what we came for, and get out. We get in and out with a minimum of fuss. Malkorok gets a pocket full of gold and the satisfaction of knowing the dragons had been weakened, for whenever Rend finally turned on them like Malkorok assumed he eventually would.
That was the plan. And it mostly worked. We went in, we killed Valthalak, we got the spellbook. But we also collected an enchanted amulet from him, and after no small amount of infighting, we divided it into pieces and split it among some members of the group. Don’t ask me what the appeal would be of getting a piece of an amulet; I wasn’t one of the ones fighting over it. And the ones who did… Well, Valthalak wasn’t quite as dead as we’d assumed. His spirit lived on, and it sent spectral assassins after those of us who’d been involved in stealing the amulet. Again, I’m not sure why the big to-do about the amulet; in his shoes, I probably would have been angrier at us for killing him than for taking his favorite piece of jewelry. Maybe it’s a dragon thing.
One by one, the members of the Veiled Blade started to be picked off by the spectral assassins. Soon enough, there were only three of us left: me, a dwarf named Theldren, and a human named Deliana. We all went into hiding – me in Orgrimmar, Theldren in Blackrock Depths, Deliana in Ironforge. Separately, and quietly, Deliana and I started to recruit Horde and Alliance adventurers to gather the pieces of the amulet and put Valthalak’s spirit to rest. It took some time, but it worked. For a while.
That changed a couple weeks ago when I was walking through the Drag with Ji, and a new batch of spectral assassins came out of nowhere and killed me.
From the look of things on the blog after Garrosh reported the attack, some people were pretty quick to put two and two together and figure that Malkorok had been behind it. Truth be told, I was only too happy to let him take the blame. And for those of you who’ve wondered, now you can see a little better why he and I have bad blood between us. Now maybe you have a notion of why I don’t trust him. I know he can be bought. Because I was one of the ones who bought him.
As for why I wouldn’t have told anyone any of this until now…well, that’s where things start to get complicated. TL;DR alert in advance: This may be a long story.
Mokvar
Krasarang reunions
Construction is coming along quickly here at Domination Point. That’s what we’re calling the new outpost, by the way – pretty badass, right? Thought of it myself. Anyway, we’re making good progress getting the place built. Warlord Zaela sent some of her Dragonmaw construction crew with us, and as any of you who were there will remember, a couple years ago when the Dragonmaw joined the Horde, they got Dragonmaw Port rebuilt FAST. As opposed to, say, the goblin contractors who STILL haven’t quite finished the job in Orgrimmar. Which is really pretty ridiculous at this point. I mean, can you imagine how embarrassing it’s going to be if Orgrimmar comes under siege, and we STILL haven’t finished fixing the place from the LAST major problem?
So that’s coming along. While we work on getting the base built and securing the area, I’ve also been keeping Gurtash and the rest of the DPS busy gathering food. Turns out there’s an island close by that’s practically swarming with these huge cranes that have enough breast meat on them to feed half a regiment. They’re a little big for the kids, but it’s been good practice for them working as a team. Also, as part of the Pandaria landing team, I’d brought three of the Mag’har’s best blademasters from Nagrand: Ishi, Burzum, and Krimpatul. So I’ve been having the three of them take turns going out with the DPS when they go hunting, just to keep an eye on them. The kids seem to be hitting it off with Krimp especially. He’s got the gruff lovable mentor thing going for him. Kind of like me.
In other news, General Nazgrim and his team arrived here today. Which was a good thing – one, because Nazgrim is always good in a fight, but two, because that gave me a chance to ask some pointed questions based on Krog’s reports on a certain former captive of theirs.
Case in point: How exactly Nazgrim and his crew managed to turn this:
…into this:
The extent of Nazgrim’s response pretty much consisted of “Oh, so, um, you heard about that, huh?”
One other part of Nazgrim’s arrival, though – along with his regular crew like Kiryn and Shokia, he also brought one of those monkey people he’d recruited back in the Jade Forest, a hozen named Tak-Tak who’s going to be helping our flightmaster Kromthar. And here’s the thing. This was the first time I’d met a hozen…only it wasn’t. Some of you might remember – a few months ago, when time was going all wonky and I was flashing into that alternate reality, I met a monkey-like creature, name of Zhi-Zhi. Who’d been found washed ashore after the destruction of his home in the southern islands. It was the first time I’d ever seen a creature like him…but he seemed to know a thing or two about me.
And so THAT was the first time I ever met a hozen – only now, those events never happened. Except I still remember them. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL. Head hurts.
So after Nazgrim introduced me to Tak-Tak, I pulled Monkey Boy aside and tried picking his tiny little brain some. He said most of the mountain hozen up north were pretty hostile, same for the hozen on the islands to the east of here. According to him, the only hozen who’ve managed to shill at all – and from what I can tell, “chill” would be a VERY relative term – would be the forest hozen where he’d come from. Most of those, he says, have stayed in villages like Grookin Hill, but some individuals have gone off to live with the pandaren in one place or another. He rattled off a few places some of them had gone, and most of the names blurred together, but then one stuck out – a place in the Jade Forest called the Tian Monastery. That one rang a tiny little bell. When we get a little breathing room, I may need to pay them a visit over that way.
Anyhow, back to work. I’ll keep you posted on news as it happens, assuming my internet stays up.
Landfall
Greetings from Pandaria, bitches!
We arrived yesterday and we’re well underway getting set up. Our scouts had found a good location for a base along the southwestern shore of the Krasarang Wilds, and sent up a signal for us once the fleet was in range. Once we brought everyone ashore, work on an outpost here got rolling.
Get this, though. Turns out, at practically the exact same time, an ALLIANCE force landed at the EASTERN end of the Krasarang Wilds and started building a base THERE. Which first of all, what are the odds of THAT timing, and also, for fuck’s sake, will people stop ripping off all my ideas? I’ll tell you right now, if Varian starts writing poetry too, I’m going to lose my shit.
Anyway, this meant that shortly after we arrived, we had bunches of Alliance troops showing up and attacking. And what THIS meant? That yours truly got to get out there and mix it up with some humans, something I haven’t done in way too long. You should have seen the looks on their faces, by the way. Like “Holy shit, it’s Garrosh Hellscream!” “Holy shit, he’s kicking our asses!” “Holy shit, where did the bottom half of my torso go?”
So things are coming along now. Blood Guard Gro’tash, Commander Scargash, and Rak’gor Bloodrazor are heading up the defenses while we build. Meanwhile I’m sending Malkorok ahead to the Shrine of Two Moons, where I hear the last wave of Horde have set up camp, to check things out and also get Belloc Brightblade from the Reliquary started researching this race that used to rule Pandaria before the pandas took over. There should be more Reliquary types on the way to join him once the rest of the blood elf ships arrive with Regent-Lord Ponytail. Plus we’ve got one more wave of troops coming from Kalimdor to fill out our numbers here in Krasarang.
The only down side at this point is that my internet is pretty spotty. Grizzle Gearslip, who’s overseeing most of the building project, seems to know his shit where construction is concerned, but he’s not the computer whiz Spazzle is. I’ve only been able to get online sporadically with this laptop, and I don’t know if that’s going to change anytime soon, so I’m trying not to push my luck. Definitely not rolling the dice trying to play Earth Online, for instance. Hopefully Mokvar and Spazzle have been helping fill the void and can keep it up for the time being.
Also, by the way, while we were going around roflstomping Alliance, I got my first chance to break in Mortimer’s new armor, compliments of Gurtash. Check it out:
Pretty badass, huh? The only thing Mortimer doesn’t seem too thrilled about is the horns attached to the headpiece. Personally I think they look all hardcore, kind of like he’s got his own version of those tusks of Mannoroth’s that I wear. But Mortimer just keeps giving me the same face he did last Winter Veil when I made him wear those fake reindeer antlers.
Oh, speaking of Winter Veil, by the way, before I left for this trip, I wrote up a guest post for Typhoon Andrew as part of Blog Azeroth’s Furtive Father Winter gift exchange. You should totally check it out here if you haven’t already, even if it turns out it IS an Alliance blog.
Fucking Alliance.
