Monthly Archives: May 2016
30 Days of Character Development #12: Elder Cloudfall
[Periodically, a post will profile one of the blog’s many supporting players. (See the first profile for more details.) Feel free to chime in with recommendations for other characters you’d like to see more about!]
Name: High Elder Cloudfall
Occupation: Master of Tian Monastery, monk trainer, former farmer, former carpenter, former fisherman, former shopkeeper, former basket weaver, former brewery security guard, former fur trader, former Shado-pan habidasher, former part-time elbow masseuse, former apprentice calligrapher, former substitute dog trainer
Race: Pandaren
Class: Monk
Age: 71
Group affiliations: Tian Monastery (high elder), Shado-pan (advisor, former employee)
Known relatives: None
First appearance: “Getting around with the Shado-pan”
Key posts and plot points:
- Garrosh met Elder Cloudfall during his first visit to Tian Monastery in “Getting around with the Shado-pan.” As he explained to Garrosh in “The geometry of shadows,” he had previously seen a vision of Garrosh that provided some hints about the destiny that awaited him. Cloudfall explained that both he and the hozen Zhi-Zhi had seen these visions of Garrosh at a mystical location that he described as a “vision cave,” where glimpses of the future could be seen. (It was these visions that prompted Zhi-Zhi to refer to Garrosh as “the One” upon first seeing him — both in our main timeline, and in the alternate one that appeared in the Timequake arc.)
- When Garrosh returned to Tian in “Moments of transition,” Cloudfall indicated that, according to his visions, Garrosh is “the one” who would usher in a rebirth of sorts for the Horde and unify its peoples behind a common purpose, though he was also quick to point out that, devoid of context, the glimmers of the future contained in the visions provided an incomplete and possibly unreliable picture.
- Cloudfall also offered to take Garrosh to a place where he might be able to garner some helpful insights on the “destiny” that awaits him — Kypari Zar, a name that Garrosh had heard before the Pandaria campaign had even begun, when, while visiting Shattrath with Lady Liadrin in “Dying of the light,” Garrosh received the telepathic warning from A’dal, “If you go to Kypari Zar, you will die.”
In his own words:
Describe your relationship with your mother or your father. Was it good? Bad? Were you spoiled rotten, ignored? Do you still get along now, or no?
My father, sadly, passed while I was still a cub. A regrettable cooking mishap involving a blowfish. My relationship with my mother was an interesting one — she was always helpful and supportive, but I cannot say we were particularly close. That is not to say that there were conflicts or tensions between us. Rather, her way of showing support was granting me a wide berth to find my own way in life. As a result, I spent many years wandering from one place to another, and drifted between a great many careers before finally — gradually — settling into the monastic life. In so doing, my mother taught me perhaps the greatest of life lessons, without speaking a word.
Name one scar you have, and tell us where it came from. If you don’t have any, is there a reason?
Alas, scars are difficult to identify under a layer of fur. On a more fortuitous note, fur also does a more than passable job of obscuring most wrinkles.
How vain are you? Do you find yourself attractive?
Now now, let’s not rush to hasty conclusions about my character on the basis of that comment about the wrinkles. At least I’m not one of the elder pandaren you will see on occasion who go to the trouble of dyeing their graying fur a darker shade. It is, in fact, a fairly laborious process, or so I’m told, especially around the eyes, and it’s very easy to leave patches uncovered that can prove quite telling. (Do not think you are fooling anyone, Lord Zhu.)
What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Color? Song? Flower?
Cinnamon rum. (They make a variety at the Drunken Hozen in Dawn’s Blossom that you simply must try. I have also heard good things about the Tigule and Foror ice cream that you have in your lands. I may have to try some one day.) Deep red. My favorite song is an old childhood favorite, Hero’s Hidden Face, about perseverance in the face of adversity. (And magic. As I child, I needed the magic to make it go down smoothly. I was not one for more contemplative themes as a cub.) Poppies of any description.
Who do you trust?
I trust all I encounter to be true to their innermost selves, so long as deceit does not prey upon them. And if I prove in error in my assessments, the fault lies not in them, but in my own misguided trust in my powers of judgment.
Are you an early morning bird or a night owl?
Both, in a way. I typically stay up quite late at night, but also rise at dawn. I compensate for the seeming lack of sleep by napping for a few hours in the late afternoon. While not conventional, I’ve found that I am most productive and energetic with two shorter periods of sleep than with one longer one.
Are there any blood relatives that you are particularly close with, besides the immediate ones? Cousins, uncles, grandfathers, aunts, etc. Are there any others that you practically consider a blood relative?
I am an only child, and while I had several aunts and uncles, they, like my parents, have all long since passed away. While I no longer have any blood relations as such, my colleagues at Tian Monastery have become like family to me, and I have come to think of my students there, many though they are, as my children of sorts.
What does your desk/workspace look like? Are you neat or messy?
One of the benefits of being the High Elder is that it affords one the option of delegating most desk work to less senior personnel.
Are you a good cook? What’s your favorite recipe?
Ah, you need not be coy, my friend. Clearly someone has told you about my famous green curry fish. No surprise, as it always proved popular on those occasions when I would prepare it as a surprise dinner for the monastery. The recipe has been in my family for three generations, and includes a few departures from the traditional green curry recipe that sets it quite apart. I’ll be only too happy to make some for you after our chat — don’t think for a moment, however, that you will bait me into giving away those secret ingredients!
What’s your preferred means of travel?
By necessity, I restrict my air travel to kite. I would very much have liked to master the art of cloud serpent riding — and, indeed, I raised a hatchling as my pet and companion when I was a much younger man — but sadly, I have never had a feel for it. Nevertheless, my efforts provided me with the companionship of Jinjo for many years. I still visit his resting place near the Shrine of Fellowship once each year on the anniversary of his hatching.
Are you superstitious?
How do we define “superstitious”? Very often, I find that “superstition” is used to refer to a belief in the possibility of something we do not know, rather than a strident adherence only to those things we have confirmed. “I do not know” is the beginning of all wisdom.
What might your ideal romantic partner be?
Oh, my friend, I am an old man now, and well past the interests in romance that fluttered through my thoughts in youth. I appreciate your admiration, but I must inform you that it isn’t going to happen.
Describe your hands. Are they small, long, calloused, smooth, stubby?
Covered with fur. And… slightly pudgy, I suppose. There are benefits to being High Elder, you see — first in line for the nightly buffet!
Previous Profiles:
- Spazzle Fizzletrinket
- Ben-Lin Cloudstrider
- Dontrag and Utvoch
- Taktani
- Korrina
- Mylune
- Mokvar
- Ruekie
- Tirion Fordring
- Lady Liadrin
- Eitrigg
Ain’t no party like a panda party
HAHAHAHAHAHA OMG yuo guys should tottlay be here for this! hahahlike Gurtahs tries to tell me i shouldnt try to post something righth now buyt I’m having such a good time and I can’t cheat you guys out of being a part of it right NO I SHOULDN’T
SO.
um… what was I going to saohoh OH now i rmemebr yeah so. SO. SO we left the Taver n in the Mists and yoiu know while we were there i was wondering if maybe i should have grabbed sometghing to drink since you know its a tavern and everything and you know my life when do i NOT need a drink haha, but OMG AM I GLAD I DIDN’T cuz iuts way better i saved roiom for when we got here. OK OK let me keep to the point though. SO. So Mokvar stayhed wherever he was going to do like Mokvar things or whatever and so me and Giurtash left to fly up to Tian Monastery to find ELder cloudfall, you remember that panda guy who was gonna help me excep for how he was always all vague and criptic not helpfcul like but whjateverf, itsd all cool HAHAHA i don’t know why i used to worry about that shit.
so like we got up here and its not lke we planned it this way but wow our timing couldnt be better cuz like they were in the middle of having this awesome party with like food and drinks and drinks and OMG did i mention they had beer? like so so much beer, i knew the pandas were all big on brwewing and shit but i had no idea they had this many blends — fucking AWESOME dude and they kep giving me samples to try uit all and at first i was like in a hurry to get Cloudfall to get his stuff together and comew with us back to the base but then i figurfed whatever as long as I’m herfe so i trjed some and then a few more and after about twenty varieties i kinda lost track but i figured i shouldnt be rude to the pandas that brewed the other oneds so whatever i finished the bunch. I mean not finished like i drank all of it and no more left for anyone else cuz that would be fucknig rude dude you know cuz like ok i mean i guess i can be kinujdc of an asshole sometimes but i’m never fucking rude okay so FUCK YOU FOR SAYING IT SHIT FACE HAHAHAHAHAA
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oops sorry i knocked the lapytop[ off the table
SO/ yea we hung ouit a while at the parthy and hads ome grub and a couple drinks okay maybe a gfwe more than that but IT’S A PARTY OKAY, okay well I had some drinks but not Gurtash since he’s a kid and stuff plus I was goona need sxomeone who could fly in a straight line if i had one too many, which I DID NOT, I DID NOT HAVE ONE TOO MANY, I HAD SIXTEEN TOO MANY THANK YOU VERY MUCH LOL. Buut dude some of the stuff they have here is pretty damn good OH HEY DID YOU THAT PANDAS MAKE THEIR OWN BEER. DID YOU KNOW THAT SHIT CAUSE I .. um. did I? I think i might have known somerthingf but it’s kinda fuzzy now. BUT OMG BEER. And some ale and plum wine and then Gaoquan had this mixed drink he said was called I Know My Redeemer Liveth. And I let Grtash have a taste if a couple but not enough to get in the way of him being like designated flyer or something, although lets face it , when he goes out with Mortimer its really morer like Mortimer’s flying HIM but pffft he doest have to know that , hes a goiod kid so let him have his fun just HOLY SHIT he needs to learn how to swing an axe. Um not at me. ok ok not at you eitrher. Who are you agaizdsf
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FUCK sorry knocked the laptop opver again. You knwo what i’m just going to strretch iutr here on the floor and tyope here and just leave the laptop here since it’s here now and this way i cany knock ity over any more cuz him down here and it’ll just stay here okay so here. HERE. oh wow the screen looks kind freaky from tghis angle i wonder if this is whaty it looks like to squirrels when they use the computer. ANd yeah yea i knoiw what you’re thinking, why would squirrels use computers, they dont need computers what with theyt have fur and a lack of opooposable thumbs. AND THE JOKES ON YOU MOTHER FUCKER cuz you know what squirrels use the comuter for? you know what they do? they send emails saying HOLY SHIT MYLUNE IS CHASING US TRYING TO HUG US AGAIN EITHER HUG US OR KILL US NOBODY KNOWS FOR SURE WE CANT TAKE THE RISK HELP HELP SEND HELP HAAAAAAAAAL;P
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA she’s batshit like really.laiSUYdfghj,bdmnskhjSA:Ikq.ashjvdbhv.L
ouch
ok don’t ask me how i did that but somehow i tripped onto the keyboard even though i was already lying flat on the floor. i think one of my tusks might have cracked ths screen too. not totally Sure though cuase everything keeps swaying back and forth so its kinda hard to focus and plus it looks like there’s two of them. OH HEY BONUS LAPTOP FOR ME, WHER DID THAT COME FROM. AWESOME. HAHAHA
l;kj;;;;; ; ;; ;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;
A bargain at any price
You know, I don’t know what was the bigger surprise — running into King Chin’s brat kid at the Tavern in the Mists, or how fast he was able to clear absolutely 100% out of the area even with that bum leg of his.
You’ll notice, by the way, that I’m not listing “Anduin is ALIVE” in my list of surprises, because seriously, at this point, I don’t know if there are ANY thought-they-were-dead people who could turn up again and have me going “HOLY SHIT, WHAT A SURPRISE!” Because, you know, I might have mentioned this a time or two, but NOBODY FUCKING STAYS DEAD ANYMORE. So, hey, Prince Goody-Two-Shoes wants to shrug off certain doom? Sure, why the fuck now. At this rate, it would only surprise me if… I don’t know, let’s say fucking Illidan… DOESN’T show up again at some point.
Anyhow. Mokvar had some research or whatever that he wanted to do here at the tavern, so I took off to have a look around the area. I didn’t send up going far, though. Turns out there’s another building right next door where this old panda lady, Madam Goya, runs an off-the-books auction house. She had a ton of fairly rare and coveted stuff up for sale. It’s probably better off for me that I don’t know how she GOT all that stuff… but you know what’s REALLY better off for me? That freaking Shayari DOESN’T KNOW ABOUT THIS PLACE, that’s what, because holy crap could she pile up some orders of magnitude fast at these prices.
Still, I DID spot one goody up for sale that I just couldn’t pass up as an impulse buy.
AND SO, HEY! HEY, BOB! ARE YOU READING THIS SHIT? CHECK THIS OUT!
CAN YOU FUCKING SEE THE LICH KING’S HORSE NOW, MOTHERFUCKER?!?
Trial of the Black Prince
You know, it’s a funny thing about spending a lot of time around Garrosh. After a while, the particular brand of blinders through which he looks at the world becomes oddly endearing. Case in point, that last bit Gurtash drew up. I have to admit, I actually sort of missed it while I was off the grid for a while.
Stopping at the Tavern of the Mists was my idea. Garrosh didn’t really have any business of his own there — unless you count inspiring Anduin Wrynn to regain mobility ahead of schedule — so he decided to go take a look around the area. Gurtash grabbed a drink from Tong downstairs (um, nonalcoholic hopefully, but I didn’t think to watch) and went out behind the tavern to rest by the steam pool.
That left me to have a little one-to-one time with the real reason I’d wanted to stop here on the way through.
WRATHION: I don’t believe I know you, friend. Is there something I can help you with?
MOKVAR: There might be. It’s why I came here looking for you.
WRATHION: Interesting. Ordinarily, people only come to seek me out when I send for them.
MOKVAR: Well, do that enough times and I suppose word will tend to get around.
WRATHION: Well then. Clearly I’ve been overestimating people’s sense of discretion.
MOKVAR: Don’t feel too bad. I make a point of having several ears to the ground.
WRATHION: We should get along well, in that case. Or not at all. It can be so hard to predict which way that will go.
MOKVAR: Let’s be optimistic and say option 1.
WRATHION: Indeed. In any case, you are here and I am being rude. <calling downstairs> Tong! A drink, please, for my new friend, mister… ah, I don’t believe I got your name.
MOKVAR: Mokvar.
WRATHION: <calling downstairs> Mr. Mokvar!
Wrathion turns back to Mokvar.
I suppose he doesn’t really need to know your name to serve you drinks, but I did start to tell him, and I would hate for the old fellow to feel I’d left him hanging. Is it Mr. Mokvar, by the way? Or Mokvar something?
MOKVAR: Just Mokvar.
WRATHION: No family name?
MOKVAR: Do you have one?
WRATHION: Fair point. Although advertising my particular family probably resides somewhere between unnecessary and inadvisable. At any rate, I was just curious. “Mok-var.” Does it mean anything?
MOKVAR: Nothing. Just Mokvar.
WRATHION: No? Don’t orcish names usually mean things? “Death of” this and “victory to” that and honor blood glory and such?
MOKVAR: Not everyone’s. Some, yes, like the Warchief’s, for instance.
WRATHION: Yes, I had assumed it meant something subtle like “Scream from Hell.”
MOKVAR: Well, I was talking more about the “Garrosh” part, but sure. Anyway, the point is, in my case it’s just a name.
WRATHION: Ah. Well, that’s less colorful.
MOKVAR: I’ll try to be more entertaining next time.
WRATHION: I would appreciate that. Ah, here we are.
Tong comes upstairs with a tray.
Our drink! Here you are, Mr. Mokvar. I hope you enjoy plum wine.
MOKVAR: I’m allergic to plums, actually.
WRATHION: Ah well. More for me, then! Thank you, Tong.
Tong leaves.
In any case — you have no wine, you have no last name, you’re not terribly entertaining, but here you are. What brings you out to my little sanctuary in the hills?
MOKVAR: Reputation. I’ve heard you’ve been recruiting help for a… well, let’s call it a project of some kind.
WRATHION: You might say that. I prefer to think of it as safeguarding the long-term safety of our world. You might even call it a family business of sorts.
MOKVAR: Well, other than the part where your father lost his mind and tried to destroy the world.
WRATHION: Well yes, there’s that, but who doesn’t get a little cranky in their old age?
MOKVAR: Hopefully you’re young enough that we don’t need to worry about that with you for a while.
WRATHION: One would hope. I do so love to keep people guessing, though!
MOKVAR: I guess I’m less of a daredevil. I like knowing these things for sure. For instance, this looming threat you seem so keen on protecting the world from.
WRATHION: Granted, I don’t really know you, Mr. Mokvar, but unless I’m wildly off in my estimate, you’re old enough that you shouldn’t need me to spell out that threat for you.
MOKVAR: I figured you meant the Burning Legion.
WRATHION: There you go. You’ve answered your own question.
MOKVAR: I’m not so interested in it being the Legion in general — you’re right, it’s common sense to figure they’ll strike again, sooner or later — but I’m more interested in the details. For instance… are you just making some “sooner or later” guess that any of us might, or do you know something more about what’s coming?
WRATHION: Well, I hate to show my hand too much. But suffice to say that as convenient as it would be to possess detailed foreknowledge of the Legion’s plans, I have to settle for something less precise. You might think of it as an inherited trait. My flight was charged with the protection of this world, after all. It stands to reason we might be imbued with an innate sensitivity to looming threats, particularly of a demonic nature.
MOKVAR: Well, apart from the whole deal where—
WRATHION: Yes, yes, I know, the business with the rar-rar-crazy and trying to destroy everything. I know. The flight lost the script for a while there. There’s no need to keep bringing it up. You don’t see me dragging the discussion back to your people’s somewhat checkered history in certain similar matters, do you?
MOKVAR: Wow, you’re sensitive about this, aren’t you?
WRATHION: You would be too if your every conversation were a time bomb ticking down to the inevitable Neltharion-splosion. You would think that after all the time and effort I spent tracking down and exterminating the rest of the black flight, people would see fit to stop lumping me in with them, but oh no.
MOKVAR: Well, technically, didn’t you recruit rogues to—
WRATHION: It’s called delegating, my friend! Goodness, do you spend all your conversations nitpicking like this? You must be a joy at parties.
MOKVAR: Deliana tells me that all the time, too.
WRATHION: Who is that? Your wife?
MOKVAR: No, she’s not my — ugh, why does everyone always think that…?
Wrathion looks at Mokvar quizzically.
Right… just… never mind.
WRATHION: Indeed… Well, in any case. My sensitivity to the threat facing this world is a holdover from that ancestry. It may well have surfaced in me purely because I’m the only untainted black dragon to have come along in an age.
MOKVAR: Are you sure this… “dragon sense” of yours is something specific to untainted black dragons?
WRATHION: There’s no way to know for sure, now is there? I am the only black dragon left alive, untainted or otherwise, so I suppose there’s no alternative for comparison.
Wrathion looks at Mokvar quizzically.
Why? That’s a rather… odd question to be a random inquiry.
MOKVAR: Just because there aren’t any black dragons living in this world — assuming you definitely got them all—
WRATHION: I did.
MOKVAR: Bully for you, then.
—doesn’t mean there aren’t any black dragons, at all. For instance, the not-quite-living variety.
WRATHION: …oh?
MOKVAR: Just a thought.
WRATHION: A thought inspired by…?
MOKVAR: Remember what you were saying before about not showing your hand too much? We’re rather alike that way.
WRATHION: Still, I think I can guess at a few cards. Evidently, there are some remnants of my kin stumbling around in some state of…undeath?
MOKVAR: Possibly.
WRATHION: Hmm. You would think that killing a dragon once would have been enough.
MOKVAR: Believe me, son, you’re preaching to the choir on that one. The gist of it, though, is that it looks like something may have woken some of your former family up from their nap. And the lead that first sent me stumbling in their direction involved some vague portents about “something coming.”
WRATHION: Hmm.
MOKVAR: Which sounds a little familiar now.
WRATHION: Yes, doesn’t it…
Wrathion glances behind him to his bodyguards, Left and Right, and makes a brief gesture.
And… what, pray tell, was it that sent you poking around… well, wherever you were poking around.
MOKVAR: Hypothetically.
WRATHION: Yes, of course. Hypothetically.
MOKVAR: It was… a personal matter.
WRATHION: Isn’t everything?
MOKVAR: Probably. But it does make me wonder what might have happened to stir up the Black Dragonflight even in death.
WRATHION: I don’t know. I can’t say I’m privy to the details of what’s putting the Legion in motion — or what will. It might not even have begun yet.
MOKVAR: How does that work?
WRATHION: Oh, one of the interesting things about precognition is that it can sometimes make one aware of an effect before the cause even takes place. Isn’t time fascinating?
MOKVAR: Preaching to the choir again.
WRATHION: All I can say, my friend, is that events are in motion that threaten to bring the Legion down upon us. And my every instinct calls for me to ensure Azeroth is ready to face them.
MOKVAR: That’s what I hear you’ve been telling people.
WRATHION: You don’t need to sound so conspiratorial about it! I’ll have you know, I’ve been working with some of your own kinsmen to that end.
MOKVAR: So I’ve heard.
WRATHION: You can rest assured, of course, that in the conflict we find ourselves embroiled in, my loyalties lie with your H—
MOKVAR: You don’t have to go through your usual song and dance with me.
Wrathion blinks.
WRATHION: Beg pardon?
MOKVAR: I know you’ve been recruiting people from the Horde and the Alliance. You don’t have to go through your usual pretense of professing your loyalty to whichever side you happen to be talking to at the time.
WRATHION: Er… I… that is… <laughing nervously> Mokvar, my friend, I haven’t an idea what you… that is… You, um… You know about that, eh?
MOKVAR: Like I said, I get around.
WRATHION: Apparently so much so that you’re privy to fairly private discussions across faction lines!
MOKVAR: Let’s just say I have a few useful contacts.
WRATHION: I see that. Nevertheless, what you don’t realize—
MOKVAR: Look, I’m not all that interested in what your endgame in all this is.
WRATHION: I… oh. You don’t? Because I had this whole speech ready on the off chance the situation ever came up, and—
MOKVAR: I assume it’s some type of deal where you think you’re serving some greater good, and playing both sides against each other is a means to that end that you think is justified.
WRATHION: Well… yes, I suppose that’s more or less… um… Are you sure you don’t want to hear the speech?
MOKVAR: And whatever the finer details of it are, they don’t really matter much to me, not least of all because whatever you have going on, you’re just pushing people harder into faction conflicts they were already fighting anyway.
WRATHION: …because it included a few turns of phrase I’m actually rather proud of.
MOKVAR: Could you let it go with the speech already? Believe me, I’ve already had to transcribe enough monologuing for one lifetime.
WRATHION: Oh fine. It’s your loss, though. There were motifs and everything.
MOKVAR: Well whatever the plan is, motifs and all, if you’re smart you’ll rethink it before you get any deeper than you already are.
WRATHION: Oh? And why is that? Are you threatening me?
Left and Right take a step forward, raising their crossbows.
I hope you’re not trying to threaten me. Tong gets so very cross when people make a mess of his place.
MOKVAR: You’re not hearing me. I’m not saying to rethink what you’re doing or else. I’m saying rethink it, because if you do, and you’re smart, you’ll realize you’re getting yourself into the middle of something you don’t want to meddle with.
WRATHION: The only thing I’m trying to do, my friend, is bring an end to this destructive conflict as quickly as possible. Or perhaps you’d prefer to continue watching the Horde and Alliance whittle away at each other while the house burns around them?
MOKVAR: And what I’m trying to explain is that you’re trying to tame a crazed worg. You think you can insert yourself into the Horde-Alliance war and bring it to heel, but you can’t. This is bigger than you. It isn’t subject to your whims.
WRATHION: You seem far too willing to resign yourself to the whims of chance.
MOKVAR: I’m willing to accept that chance’s whims have a lot more sway than ours. But, fine. If you don’t believe me, don’t believe me. Don’t say nobody warned you, though, if you keep meddling in things that are larger than any of us and you end up being bitten by it.
WRATHION: Mokvar, my good fellow, I’ve been enjoying your company, but don’t presume to lecture me. I am the last of the Black Dragonflight, chosen by the makers to safeguard the world. I see things you couldn’t imagine, and know things that would set your… pedestrian mind ablaze.
Mokvar looks thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then nods.
MOKVAR: In that case, Black Prince, I suppose I’ll take my leave.
Mokvar turns and starts to walk away.
Good fortune to you in your endeavors.
WRATHION: And to you in yours, sir.
Mokvar reaches the door, then stops and looks back over his shoulder.
MOKVAR: A propos of nothing… does the name “Sabellian” mean anything to you?
Wrathion narrows his eyes and peers at Mokvar for several seconds.
WRATHION: Should it?
Mokvar shrugs.
MOKVAR: Probably not. Just something I heard somewhere. You seem like a knowledgeable guy. I figured I’d ask. I’m sure it’s nothing.
Mokvar turns back to the door.
Good hunting, your highness.
Mokvar exits.
Not sure if I made things better or worse there. I suppose we’ll see. Plenty of time still to worry about that. Hopefully. In the meantime, I have more research to do.
Mokvar
Tavern in the Mists
So now that we’re mostly settled in Pandaria again, Mokvar’s ready to start in on his whole sha project, with his… dodgy pink nether region crystal thingy… you know what? Something about that way of saying it sees like it’s just asking for trouble, in a vaguely Ruekie kind of way, so let’s just move on. Point is, he needs to start testing out his warlocky hocus-pocus on the sha, and he says he needs to gather some advance intel about the buggers.
Luckily, Mokvar was able to get a run-down on the sha from Zhi-Zhi back at the base, but he says he wants to get more intel from the people who’ve been dealing with the sha in the field. And plus, I mean, Zhi-Zhi seems pretty eager to be helpful and all, but I can’t rightly blame Mokvar for wanting to get some intelligence from non-Zhi-Zhi sources, because let’s face it, when you spend more than eight seconds talking to ol’ monkey boy, “intelligence” isn’t exactly the first word to come bursting to mind.
So, in other words, he fits right in around here. Just watch him stick around for a while.
Anyhow, back to the point. There’s a major sha outbreak over in the Jade Forest where the pandas have a ton of boots on the ground… well, except that they don’t really wear boots. I don’t think. So… they have… fat furry paws on the ground, and… um… Oh, fucking hell, why do I ever bother trying? SOME PANDAS ARE FIGHTING THEM SOME SHA IS THE POINT, over at the Temple of the Jade Serpent or the Emerald Snake or the Chartreuse fucking Anaconda or WHATEVER the fuck these pandas groove to. And so Mokvar wants to head over there and pick their fuzzy brains and hope Ji Lunchbox is the exception rather than the rule so maybe THESE pandas have something in their brains to pick other than “pass the gravy.”
We’re also making a stop at this tavern near another location where they had a major sha problem until pretty recently. I don’t know if the place has some kind of drink special for warlocks or their wings are really good or something, but Mokvar was REALLY keen on stopping at this place on the way over to the Jade Forest. Some “Tavern in the Mists” place, I guess, and I don’t know if I like the sound of that, seeing as the last time I hung out with Mokvar in a tavern surrounded by mist or steam pools or whatever… hoo boy. At least frigging Garona isn’t around this time.
Aptitude test
Since we’ve been back in Pandaria, the trainees have been putting in a fair amount of time with Shokia while I’ve been busy. At first, Shademaster Kiryn was helping take the kids on patrols, but she wasn’t exactly enthused about working with them. I guess she isn’t a people person like I am. Shokia, on the other hand, was all in. She volunteered to take them out more. Nothing major, mind you. Patrols, scouting trips, assorted odd jobs in the neighborhood of the base. Nothing you’d call heavy lifting. Just enough to keep the kids in practice and let them flex their muscles a little.
She gets it. Shokia remembers where her duty lies. Her real duty, not just her job description. She understands serving the Horde isn’t just what you do while you’re punching the clock. It’s what you ARE. She looks at those kids and she doesn’t just see the kids. She sees her mother and her grandfather and the next ten generations of orcs that’ll come after them. It’s the dedication you see in the truest orcs there are. Shokia and Nazgrim. Fallen like Bloodhilt and Krimpatul. It’s not about the job. It’s about the whole line. Not work. Duty.
Shokia’s been giving me quick reports now and again on the trainees. Mostly she’s just been confirming what I’ve already seen from them. Korrina’s high ceiling but tendency to be reckless. Giska’s contrasting discipline. Kulkesh’s nose-to-the-grindstone work ethic. All of them coming along.
The commentary that’s been sticking out, though has been Shokia’s take on Gurtash. She’s noted the same hesitance and awkwardness I’ve been seeing from him in combat. But she’s been more struck by his… I forget how she put it… his sense of space, I suppose. And while the kid’s always had a pretty good eye, Shokia thinks that he’s got particularly good aim on his Heroic Throws — so much so that she’s wondering if he might actually be better suited to fighting at range. So the end result is that she’d like permission to try giving Gurtash a really basic intro hunter lesson, and see if he takes to it.
I’ve got mixed feelings about the idea, to be honest. I mean, Gurtash already has a foot in the door — admittedly, a clumsy, awkward foot — to the bottomless pit of awesome that is being a warrior. Which he’s SAID he’s wanted to be ever since he wrote me that very first mailbag letter forever ago. And yeah, he might have an easier time as a hunter, but… I mean… from what I hear people saying about “huntards,” it sounds like that’s maybe the point. Mind you, I don’t know, so don’t all you huntards– erm, hunters — go getting your panties all in a bunch. This is just what I’m told.
On the other hand, facts are facts — the kid’s been having a rough go of it as a warrior so far. And maybe his skills DO translate better to a crossbow, or a… slingshot… or a… fucking explosive frisbee… DON’T GIVE ME A LOOK, I don’t know what the fuck they use. THEY JUST SPENT LIKE FIVE YEARS TELLING US EVERYTHING IS A HUNTER WEAPON, okay? It’s their OWN DAMN FAULT nobody knows what they actually fucking use. Also BESIDE THE POINT, because the ACTUAL point is that the goddamn hunters could use a little handheld catapult that throws frogs suffering from severe flatulence at you for all I care, because early returns on the kid say the fight-with-an-axe thing maybe ain’t happening. Or maybe it still is. I don’t know. Work in progress.
Anyhow, it’s only an intro lesson, I suppose. Nothing really binding. We can see how the kid does and go from there.
More soon.
Okay, who pulled?
Earlier today, I rounded up General Nazgrim, Shokia, Jorn Skyseer, and a few Kor’kron — beastmasters in particular — and finally took a trip up to the Isle of Giants. Most of you will probably remember I’ve been having Nazgrim send his people up there to get the lay of the land and scout out the prospect of there being some animals — the Giants of which this is the Isle of — that might be useful to us. Because DINOSAURS, motherfucker.
Now, most of you will ALSO probably remember that the last time I got a report on the subject from Naz and company, I was still in Orgrimmar, and Nazgrim’s people decided to get cute rather than waiting for me to get back down here to Pandaria. And, you know, things went about as well as you’d expect them to when my minions go off-script. R.I.P. Wannabe Dinomancer Steve, you stupid dead motherfucker.
So today I finally took the trip up there to check things out personally. And HOO BOY, they were NOT kidding about that place. DINOSAUR CITY, man. Shokia took point for us, since she’d led the scouting expeditions and knew the territory the best. She guided us up to this central plateau on the island, and lo and behold, larger than life, there he was — Oondasta, the giant freaking devilsaur that Nazgrim’s crew had their eyes on last time, before ol’ Deadmaster Steve turned out to smell appetizing.
Now, though, we came prepared — seeing as THIS time, the brains of the operation had an actual BRAIN. What’s more, I had my handy-dandy Tome of Dinomancy that Grottee Metalbeard scored for me, and after we managed to maneuver Oondasta into a clear area, the beastmasters started doing their thing, and everything started falling into place. The dino struggled at first, but soon enough he started giving in to the enchantments of the tome, and full-on taming looked to be right around the corner.
Aaaaaand of course, since this is US, that’s when something stupid happened. The stupid in this case took the form of this random bunch of Alliance nobodies running on in and ATTACKING the damn devilsaur that we were trying to tame. Before we even had a chance to react, they had the dino beaten down pretty badly, and even though we were able to thin the herd pretty quickly once we realized what was going on, the remaining Allies were still able to finish Oondasta off. Like, just shy of one minute before I personally chopped the last handful of them into several dozen pieces.
But, still, damage done. Shokia was nearly as pissed off about it as I was, which is saying something. Apparently it’s some kind of a hunter thing, people killing their prospective pets, and I mean, who the fuck does that? In what other setting is that shit a cool thing to do? Would someone go running into a fucking pet shop, too, and put an axe through the damn goldfish you were getting ready to buy, along with a little model sunk ship and a little model Nazgrim leading his little model crew away from their latest little model disaster? No. Nobody does that. But oh boy, take the “you kill it, you buy it” policy out of the equation, and all of a sudden watch the griefers come out of the woodwork. Fucking rude if you ask me.
Anyway, I suppose we didn’t come away COMPLETELY empty-handed. We know that these tomes actually work, for one thing. And according to my sources, there’s an even bigger, badder devilsaur wandering around out there. A little more elusive, apparently, but we’ll find him.
Also, I have kind of a consolation prize to bring back to base with me. After Oondasta and the bad-judgment-having Alliance jackasses all bought it, we were getting ready to leave, when this young, cobalt-colored direhorn came wandering into the clearing. She went sniffing around Oondasta’s body, then poked around kind of aimlessly before she came over near us. Jorn’s guess is that the direhorn followed Oondasta around and fed on his leftovers. Whatever the story was, she seemed to take a liking to me right away (#TheLadyDinosaursLoveGarrosh?), and started following me, and… well… yeah, I guess I’ve got another mount for my personal stash in the stables. <shrug>
Anyhow, I suppose we’ve got a little time now to line things up for take two with that other devilsaur. In the meantime, I get to figure out how I’m going to get a damn direhorn back to base.
More soon.
Return engagement
We just arrived back in Pandaria. Finally. Granted, we couldn’t get here without a heaping pile of stupid washing up on deck during the trip, because, you know, IT’S US, but whatever. At least we got some decent seafood out of the deal. Plus the Wonder Twins are on notice that I’ll put them on patrol IN THE OCEAN around the base if they get on my nerves too much, and when I say that, it’s not just talk. AS IF THERE SHOULD BE ANY DOUBT TO BEGIN WITH.
General Nazgrim has been holding down the fort at Domination Point while I’ve been away, and, you know, since it’s pretty hard to crash a FORT into anything, everything seems to have gone fairly well. Well, unless you count the asshattery with the genius maneuver Nazgrim and some of his people tried pulling up at the Isle of Giants, but I’ll deal with that soon enough. The less we talk about that, the better. Mainly because the less we talk about it, the less I’m reminded of the crashing stupidity of a depressing percentage of my minions, and the less I’m reminded of that, the less I’m going to feel the urge to drive an Unnecessary Ornamental Spike™ through my skull.
Hey, look, 200 gold is 200 gold. You fuckers have to stop clutching your damn pearls over this. COMMERCE, MOTHERFUCKERS.
While we were away, Elder Cloudfall — you know, the old (hence “Elder,” DUH) panda dude who’s been varying degrees of helpful with the cryptic — took off back to his monastery. (I mean, anybody who thought he was just going to sit around Domination Point all that time NOT stuffing his face on familiar panda fare, take a step forward. Then take another step forward. Then keep taking steps forward until you walk into something sharp.) (MIGHT I RECOMMEND AN UNNECESSARY ORNAMENTAL SPIKE™?)
Cloudfall’s crazy-ass monkey friend Zhi-Zhi, though, decided to stick around the base. I guess he knew Tak-Tak or something (no, not Tak — Tak-Tak, and FUCKING HELL don’t make me go through THAT annoying shitpile again), so he figured he felt well enough at home to save himself the trip back to Tian Monastery and just stayed around the base helping out with odd jobs. I mean, I guess he couldn’t be any worse than some of the OTHER jokers I have on payroll.
Actually, is HE on payroll now? Is Nazgrim actually cutting a check to that fucker? How much? What’s the going rate for monkey labor? Can we pay him in bananas or some shit? I need to know these things.
It’s going to take a few days for me to get fully updated from Nazgrim, Blood Guard Gro’tash, the rest of the command and support staff here. Plus I need to get Mokvar acclimated to the place, seeing as he’s new to Pandaria. Also Brolic, a blademaster Lantresor recommended as an addition to my personal guard. He seems like he’ll be a valuable addition, but since he’s still new, I’d just as soon not assign him right off to work with the trainees the way the last batch of blademasters — Burzum, Ishi, and Krimpatul — did when they were here. For the time being, I’m having the DPS kids join Marksman Shokia and Shademaster Kiryn when they go out on patrol. Fairly controlled situation, watchful eye of two of our better operatives down here, plus it’ll give the kids a chance to get some input from kind of a different perspective, seeing as Shokia is a hunter and Kiryn is a rogue. Neither of which is as awesome or glorious as being a warrior, granted, but, hey. More exposure is better than less exposure.
I mean, in terms of training. Not if you’re talking about, say, an ogre and a platekini. In that case, cover that shit up, dammit. People want to eat lunch sometime this week.
More soon.
30 Days of Character Development #11: Eitrigg
[Periodically, a post will profile one of the blog’s many supporting players. (See the first profile for more details.) Feel free to chime in with recommendations for other characters you’d like to see more about!]
Name: Eitrigg
Occupation: Advisor to the Warchief, former training overseer for new Horde recruits, former Honor Guard to the Warchief
Race: Orc
Class: Warrior
Age: 60
Group affiliations: Horde (citizen), Argent Crusade (member), Blackrock Clan (member by birth, later abandoned)
Known relatives: Ariok (son), two unnamed sons (deceased) (That is, two sons whose names have not been established, not two sons whom Eitrigg didn’t name. Because that would be not just weird, but actually more than a little cruel.), six unnamed siblings (deceased)
First appearance: “LOK’TAR OGAR!” (first mention), “By my right as Warchief” (first full transcript appearance)
Key posts and plot points:
- Although he didn’t make many major blog appearances early on — he was typically a background character who was often mentioned but rarely actively involved in events — Eitrigg has been influential since the very beginning of the blog. In Garrosh’s first post, he noted that it was Eitrigg’s suggestion that he start the blog as an outlet for his thoughts and reactions. So, you see, you have Eitrigg to thank/blame for the existence of the Warchief’s Command Board in the first place!
- Eitrigg has been an aide to the Warchief since shortly after Thrall established the new Horde. Early on, he has served in a number of capacities, including an advisor and a member of the Warchief’s Honor Guard. Interestingly, in the quest The New Horde, Eitrigg indicates that Thrall had charged him with overseeing the training of new Horde recruits; it’s worth noting that, in contrast, within the events of the blog, Eitrigg appears to be completely uninvolved in the military trainee program that Garrosh initiated.
- One of Eitrigg’s notable appearances came in “Anger management,” in which he
accompanied Tirion Fordring to Ben-Lin Cloudstrider’s group counseling session as a sponsor. Evidently, Highlord Paragraph gets a little irritable when he dips into the booze, a habit that his friend Eitrigg tries to curtail with mixed success.
- When Garrosh left Orgrimmar to travel to Pandaria, he left Eitrigg in charge in his
absence. As a result, Eitrigg was left to deal with Mokvar’s odd behavior in the early stages of the We All Have Our Demons arc. After Mokvar fled from Orgrimmar following a rash of suspicious behavior, Eitrigg issued the order that, despite their long association as advisors to the Warchief, Mokvar was banished from the Horde.
- Garrosh eventually lifted Mokvar’s banishment and grew less confident in Eitrigg’s ability to mind the shop effectively. As a result, Garrosh installed Kor’kron overseers, particularly Overseer Elaglo and Overlord Runthak, to supervise and “advise” the senior orc. Eitrigg has, as a result, found his position in Grommash Hold even more marginalized than it already was, a detail that wasn’t entirely lost on his son, Ariok.
In his own words:
Describe your relationship with your mother or your father. Was it good? Bad? Were you spoiled rotten, ignored? Do you still get along now, or no?
My parents were stern but honorable. While they took the responsibilities of parenthood seriously, they were not particularly warm or sentimental. As they were parents to seven children in the oft-hostile environs of Gorgrond, I imagine they viewed niceties as luxuries they could rarely afford. I was the second youngest of the seven, and while my mother and father gave what care I required, they had no wealth of available time that would allow them to lavish attention on any one of us, least of all me. We all survived (the same could not be said of all my contemporaries or their siblings), so by the standards they set for themselves, they were successful.
Name one scar you have, and tell us where it came from. If you don’t have any, is there a reason?
None that can be seen.
How vain are you? Do you find yourself attractive?
I consider myself quite unremarkable. I have always viewed myself so, I suppose, though in recent years when I have looked back at old etchings of my likeness from my youth, it has occurred to me that I was perhaps too hard on myself. I suspect we do not appreciate the attractiveness of our youth until it is long past. Either that, or the sketch artist was overly generous in his depiction of me, perhaps in an act of kindness born of sympathy. I would not rule it out.
Who do you trust?
Thrall, Varok, Vol’jin. I do not yet know Baine so well as I might like, but in our every dealing he has impressed me as the very likeness of his father. Above all others, I trust Tirion, who threw away the comfort and station of his family line on the hope that a member of a race he had known only for its barbarism might nevertheless have honor within him.
Can you define a turning point in your life? Multiples are acceptable.
If anything, my life has been an endless string of turns. While rarely easy, my youth in Gorgrond was probably the most stable time in my life. After that, life for me has taken the form of a zigzag rather than a line. The coming of the Legion and the pact with Mannoroth. The invasion of Azeroth and loss of our own world. The death of two of my three sons at the hands of supposed Blackrock kin, which led me to abandon the clan of my birth and forsake my own kind for the wilds of Lordaeron. A chance encounter in that alien land with a human paladin, which would open the door to the unlikeliest of new kinships. Thrall’s restoration of the Horde and his invitation for me to return to it at his side.
Through it all, I persevered as best I could with, I hope, what honor and dignity circumstance would allow me. Perhaps now, in my final years, fate will choose to grant me the stability I haven’t known since my earliest. Either that, or fate is merely lulling me into a false sense of security before throwing me once again into another sudden turn.
Is there an animal you equate to yourself?
A kodo. It is a beast neither glamorous nor frivolous, belligerent nor fawning. It has its tasks to perform, whether for its kin or its upright-walking masters, and it performs those tasks without complaint or ceremony.
How are you with technology? Super savvy, or way behind the times? Letters or e-mail?
I cannot say that I have much affection for technology beyond the sorts of devices whose workings I can readily observe and apprehend. The catapult, the wagon, various tools of craftsmanship and agriculture. I do not fully trust machines that perform their tasks invisibly as if by magic. (Perhaps it is the warrior’s mindset in me; perhaps had I been raised a shaman I would feel differently.)
I have, nevertheless, tried to keep myself aware of newer technologies. I still do not trust them, but there are many things in life not to be trusted; to take that as an excuse for ignoring them only courts trouble. I am familiar, therefore, with the workings of the online and make regular use of the email. I suspect I am one of the more proficient computer users of my contemporaries, so I suppose I am not so bad with technology. Either that, or my peers are simply terrible with it. I would not rule out the latter.
At the very least, I knew enough about the internet to suggest to Garrosh that he might start a blog. I was rather surprised when he took my suggestion. (He is not generally in the habit of doing so.) In any case, I suppose you might consider me at least partially responsible for the Warchief’s blog. I have looked in on it, rather inconsistently, from time to time. I feel I might owe several people an apology.
How do you react to temperature changes such as extreme heat and cold?
I am not bothered by cold. I recall several of Tirion’s colleagues in Northrend complaining about the temperature in Zul’Drak. I could not imagine why they found it so unbearable. For me, the opposite was true. There is a reason why hell is hot.
Sadly, I am not in a position to dictate the temperature of my workplace. Garrosh evidently prefers to keep a warm hearth, uncomfortably so in my estimation. I have, over the years, attempted to point out the needless expense he incurs by refusing to turn down the heat, but as is usually the case, he rarely listens. You would think he would at least have the front door to Grommash Hold sealed. But, oh no, much better for us to heat the whole Valley of Strength.
Are you an early morning bird or a night owl?
An early morning bird. I get up at sunrise, perhaps earlier in the winter months. I do not know, at my age, how much more time I have remaining, and I prefer not to waste more of it sleeping than need be. I will have plenty of time to sleep after I am dead. Or after 9:00 PM.
Are there any blood relatives that you are particularly close with, besides the immediate ones? Cousins, uncles, grandfathers, aunts, etc. Are there any others that you practically consider a blood relative?
All of my blood relations, save for my son Ariok, are dead — many, like Ariok’s two brothers, gone far before their time. I consider Tirion my brother; though his blood is not orcish, that blood — and mine — nevertheless bind us in honor. I just wish he would lay off the ale.
If you could time travel, where would you go?
The future, many years hence. I would like to see how all this ends, and I cannot imagine I will still be alive when the many questions of our age are finally settled.
Previous Profiles:
- Spazzle Fizzletrinket
- Ben-Lin Cloudstrider
- Dontrag and Utvoch
- Taktani
- Korrina
- Mylune
- Mokvar
- Ruekie
- Tirion Fordring
- Lady Liadrin
From Hellscream’s heart, I stab at thee
So in case any of you were wondering after that last bonus poem the other day, YES, I got sick of Dontrag and Utvoch’s stupid yammering, and YES, I chucked their damn asses overboard, and YES, I’m making them swim the rest of the goddamn way to Pandaria. And before you get your damn bleeding hearts all bloody over them, don’t worry, we’re not just taking off and leaving them — we haven’t been making the best time to begin with, and trust me, the FEAR of getting left behind has kept them swimming at a nice brisk pace.
Now I can already hear your NEXT crybaby objection: “But Garrosh, you’ve been at sea for days, how can they sleep? Alas, wah wah, boo hoo, there’s sand in my hoo-ha.” Well first of all, thank you for taking an interest, Lor’themar, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you on this trip. Second of all, yes, for fuck’s sake, they get to sleep. I’m not a damn monster. The first thing I did after I chucked the idiot brigade overboard… well, hold up, let me be honest. It wasn’t the FIRST thing I did. First I had a good long laugh and took a few hours to savor the sweet, sweet quiet. So, okay, the NEXT thing I did AFTER that was toss a raft and some rope down to Dumber and Dumber Still. So, see? One of them can get on the raft and sleep while the other one pulls him along behind him. Just like a kodo pulling a wagon. Only without the kodo having to pull the wagon through ocean water or do it while wearing heavy plate armor. And also kodos are at least 67% smarter. BUT THE POINT STANDS. They both get to have their goddamn shut-eye. They just have to take turns or draw straws or whatever. So that’s covered.
Meanwhile, since we still have some time to kill before we arrive, that gives me a chance to go over business with the major players we’ve got on hand.
Garrosh, Captain Drok, Mokvar, and Malkorok stand near the stern of the ship, looking out over the sea.
GARROSH: So somebody remind me, weren’t we already supposed to be in Pandaria by this point?
MALKOROK: I do recall the last trip going faster, yes sir.
DROK: It can’t be helped, Warchief. We hit a windless patch the second day that slowed us down. Still waters. Not much to be done about it.
GARROSH: Can’t we go faster now to make up for it?
DONTRAG: <shouting from the waters just off the stern> No, sir! Not faster!
GARROSH: I THINK YOU TWO PINHEADS HAVE BETTER USES FOR YOUR BREATH THAN BITCHING AND MOANING!
UTVOCH: <also shouting from overboard> But sir!
DONTRAG: <overboard> Dammit, Ut, zip it before he starts throwing stuff again!
UTVOCH: <overboard> But my arms are getting tired!
GARROSH: HEY, jackasses — my EARS are getting tired!
UTVOCH: <overboard> Sorry sir…
GARROSH: <turning back to Drok> You’re sure you can’t pick up the pace a little?
MOKVAR: I’m a little confused, actually. Why are we taking a boat, rather than using a mage portal?
GARROSH: Oh, geez, THAT whole shit show…
MALKOROK: You had to remind him of this, didn’t you, scribe…
MOKVAR: Huh? What am I missing?
GARROSH: Yeah, so, we COULD use a mage portal, except for the fact that the mages who came back to Orgrimmar with us all managed to forget to train the damn Shrine portal before they left.
MOKVAR: I… oh.
GARROSH: Yeah, And I guess maybe some of Lor’the’whatever’s magisters might have gotten it, but they’re all camped out on that thunder place and Ponytail hasn’t been returning my messages.
While the others are talking, Giska and Korrina appear nearby and approach the side of the ship, carrying fishing poles.
GISKA: You never learned this at all?
KORRINA: No, never got around to training it.
GARROSH: <calling over from nearby> Yeah, there’s a lot of that going around.
KORRINA: Uh, yes, Captain.
GISKA: Of course, sir.
KORRINA: <aside> Do you know what he’s talking about?
GISKA: <aside> No, but that isn’t uncommon. I usually find keeping quiet and nodding attentively goes a long way, though.
KORRINA: Huh. Good tip.
GISKA: It helps a lot.
KORRINA: So how does this work?
GISKA: Well, first you need to bait your hook…
Giska opens a tackle box and takes out a brightly-colored lure.
So you take one of these and attach it…
Giska hands Korrina another lure and attached her own to her hook.
Like this, see?
KORRINA: Like this?
GISKA: Try to get it— right, there, like that.
KORRINA: <looking at her lure quizzically> The fish are actually fooled by these?
GISKA: Apparently.
KORRINA: Isn’t fish supposed to be brain food? Seems weird they’d be that stupid.
Giska shrugs.
GISKA: Okay, so now, when you’re ready to cast, you wind up like this, then…
Giska casts off the side of the ship; Korrina does as well, a little more awkwardly.
KORRINA: Okay… so what do we do now?
GISKA: We wait.
KORRINA: Oh.
Korrina looks around.
For how long?
GISKA: For as long as it takes for a fish to bite.
KORRINA: Huh.
Korrina looks overboard at her bobber.
Well geez, these fish better hurry up…
UTVOCH: <overboard> Oh hey, there’s like a shrimp or something here! I bet it tastes — aaahh! The shrimp is defending itself somehow!
Giska looks around awkwardly as her fishing line goes taut.
GISKA: Um…
KORRINA: Yeah, definitely not brain food.
DONTRAG: <overboard> Dammit, Ut, stop thrashing around so much!
UTVOCH: <overboard> I swear the shrimp had something sharp in it!
GISKA: Um, I’m not sure I’m going to get that lure back…
KORRINA: You can’t just pull it back?
GISKA: Well, not without ripping up… um… that one’s mouth, probably. Whichever one of them he is. I probably shouldn’t risk it.
GARROSH: <shouting over> Roll those dice, if you ask me.
MOKVAR: You know, boss, if you maim everyone who annoys you, eventually you will run out of people to maim…
GARROSH: Yeah, like I’m worried about the bottomless well of anonymous red shirts running out.
GISKA: Huh. Well…
Giska tries tugging back her line, setting off a pained wail from Utvoch out of view.
Right. So. I’ll just… let that one go and get a new lure…
Gurtash and Kulkesh enter, walking close to either side of Ruekie, who appears to be moving unsteadily.
KULKESH: Okay… just a little farther…
GURTASH: Watch this next step, Ruekie.
KORRINA: She’s not doing any better?
GURTASH: It’s even worse now. You know… morning and all.
RUEKIE: <trying to steady herself> Why…? Why would they do it…?
GISKA: What did I miss?
KULKESH: Well, she—
RUEKIE: <flailing> What kind of sadist stocks a galley like that?!
Gurtash and Kulkesh try to steady Ruekie.
GURTASH: Kafa withdrawal…
KULKESH: The galley ran out yesterday.
GISKA: Wait, she’s gone without kafa for less than a day so far, and she’s already—
RUEKIE: Seventeen nightmarish hours! Seventeen!
GURTASH: You do not appreciate how much of that stuff she drinks…
GISKA: And… I mean, wouldn’t eight of those have been spent sleeping anyway?
RUEKIE: They were now — without the wakeful buzz of my sweet haste buff! Oh… oh how I miss you, my wired caramelly haze…
KORRINA: See what you miss, being all early-to-bed and early-to-rise, Giska?
KULKESH: I guess the galley just stocked enough kafa to last a couple days—
RUEKIE: <flailing> who does that?! Why?! I— they— We— <whimpers> I feel so slow…
KULKESH: Right… so… We only had enough for a couple days, and now the trip’s ended up taking longer, so…
RUEKIE: They should have poured the kafa on the boat! For the haste buff! To— to get us there faster! Where… where the kafa is! But… but then there would be even less kafa left… and we wouldn’t… but… but we would get there faster… and… uh…
Ruekie flails wildly while Kulkesh and Gurtash try to steady her.
Aaaaaahhhhhh paradoxes! Fel with them!
GISKA: Uh, so… Ruekie… why don’t you just… get some fresh sea air and… and try to relax?
RUEKIE: <closing her eyes and swaying back and forth> Okay… okay… calming and relaxing… calming and… and… <whimpers< I swear if Gul’dan offered me a green cappuccino right now I’d be half tempted…
KORRINA: Uh. Yeah. Okay.
Korrina looks out at the ocean, then to Giska.
So… how long do these fish take?
GISKA: There’s no telling, really.
KORRINA: I mean, it’s been a while now.
GISKA: Not really. Sometimes it can take hours to get a bite.
KORRINA: Hours to…? Why do people make a hobby of this crap?!
GISKA: It’s not so bad. Think of it as a chance to clear your head and center yourself. I do some of my best meditating while I’m fishing.
KORRINA: Oh geez, here you go with that kung-fu panda stuff again…
GISKA: I’m just saying it can be soothing.
KORRINA: For you maybe! It’s already getting on my nerves.
Korrina’s line tugs a few times.
Oh. Oh hey, wait… That’s not one of those guys, is it?
GISKA: <looking overboard> I don’t think so… not sure, though…
UTVOCH: <overboard> Uh, Donty, don’t swim so close?
DONTRAG: <overboard> What are you talking about? I’m all the way over here!
UTVOCH: <overboard> You weren’t just over by me?
DONTRAG: <overboard> Ut, have you not noticed me swimming over here this whole time?
UTVOCH: <overboard> Then what just went by my leg?
DONTRAG: <overboard> I don’t know, a fish or something?
KULKESH: <looking over the side of the ship> Um, guys, do you see something down there?
GISKA: I’m not sure. They’re frothing around a lot. It’s hard to see.
KORRINA: <pulling back on her reel> Dunno, I’m more interested in this. I think I’ve got something!
RUEKIE: What is it?
KORRINA: I don’t know! Whatever it is, it’s putting up a fight!
KULKESH: A tuna, maybe? Those are pretty big.
GURTASH: Tasty, too!
RUEKIE: <grumbling> Kafa’s still better.
GURTASH: Well, yeah, but you can’t live on kafa.
RUEKIE: Don’t you even say that in fun!
GISKA: Whew, if we’re reeling tuna in, I’m glad Master Ji didn’t come along…
KORRINA: Must be a big one — it’s really putting up a fight!
DONTRAG: <overboard> Um… it looks like a fin or something…
UTVOCH: Yeah, well it feels like… it…
Utvoch looks over to one side as a large dorsal fin emerges from the water next to him.
Uh oh…
KULKESH: Hey! Look at that!
RUEKIE: Whoa!
KULKESH: I knew I saw something down there!
GURTASH: What kind of fish is that?
KORRINA: <pulling harder on her reel> A soon-to-be-dead one, if I can help it!
GURTASH: You’ve got that thing?
KORRINA: Dunno, but I’ve got something! And whatever it is is pretty strong for a fish…
Utvoch swims more frantically while looking over at the fin.
UTVOCH: <overboard> Uh, Donty… I think there’s… I think I feel something under me!
DONTRAG: <overboard> Well there kind of has to be, right, unless there’s like a troll wearing a big fake fin!
GURTASH: Uh, Captain, you maybe want to look at this…
GARROSH and DROK: What?
Garrosh and Drok look at each other.
DROK: Wouldn’t that be…?
GARROSH: I’m pretty sure he meant me.
MOKVAR: Honestly, I’m surprised we haven’t run into that issue before on this trip…
GURTASH: <pointing overboard> Down there, sir! Look!
KULKESH: Korrina caught something, sir!
KORRINA: I think!
RUEKIE: It’s a big one!
Dontrag and Utvoch shout as the huge dorsal fin descends then rises again, with a giant creature visibly swelling the ocean water from beneath them.
DONTRAG: <overboard> Uhh Warchief!
UTVOCH: <overboard> Sir, I think we have a problem here!
Garrosh goes to the side of the ship and looks over.
GARROSH: What the hell have you idiots done this time?!
DONTRAG: <overboard> We swear, sir, we didn’t do anything!
UTVOCH: <overboard> Honest, Warchief, we—
Another giant fin splashes up out of the water and knocks Utvoch over. After a moment, Utvoch emerges, gasping, nearby.
DROK: Ohh, wait a minute… Could it…?
With another large, loud splash, an immense fish-like creature emerges from beneath the surface of the water, then crashes back down, sending a large splash onto the deck of the boat — dousing Garrosh and Drok in the process.
GARROSH: DAMMIT, you fuckheads, you can’t do ANYTHING without making a big fucking clown show out of it, can you!
DONTRAG: <overboard, scrambling around in the waves> Sorry, Warchief! We didn’t mean to!
UTVOCH: <overboard> We’re sorry having you throw us overboard ended up causing an inconvenience for you, sir!
KORRINA: I think this might have been me, actually, Captain…
Garrosh and Drok start to talk over each other, then look at each other.
GARROSH: Seriously, dude. When one of them says it, they mean me.
DROK: Aye, sorry, Warchief.
GARROSH: And what do you mean YOU did this?
One of the fins crashes up and back down to the water again, sending Dontrag crashing into the side of the boat.
KULKESH: Oh, that one had to hurt…
KORRINA: Well, sir, I think I might have, uh, hooked it…
GISKA: I was showing her how to fish just now, Captain…
GARROSH: Oh. Oh sure. Of course. A member of the Saurfang line goes fishing for the first time, and what happens? She catches a fucking WHALE…
KULKESH: Is it a whale?
KORRINA: As opposed to?
KULKESH: A big fish, I guess.
KORRINA: How do you tell the difference?
GISKA: Well, if it’s a whale, it would have a blowhole and come to the surface to breathe.
RUEKIE: A blowhole?
GURTASH: Oh no. Here we go…
GISKA: Right, you know, whales don’t have gills, so…
GARROSH: How the hell did that thing wind up right on top of us?
MOKVAR: Other than the Saurfang thing.
GARROSH: Yeah, other than that.
DROK: Well, sir…
Another swatting of fins sends Dontrag and Utvoch crashing into each other.
UTVOCH: <overboard> Uh, Warchief…!
DONTRAG: <overboard> This is really becoming not fun down here, sir!
GARROSH: WELL MAYBE YOU GENIUSES SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU WERE JACKASSES SINCE THE DAY YOU WERE BORN, NOW SHOULDN’T YOU?
DONTRAG: <overboard, struggling to pull his head back above water> Yes sir…
UTVOCH: <overboard> Sorry sir…
GISKA: Okay, so look, see, it’s got its back up above the water, so if it’s a whale…
RUEKIE: Oh!
Ruekie leans out over the side of the ship.
GARROSH: Rook, what the hell are you doing?
RUEKIE: Looking for the blowhole, sir!
GURTASH: Wait for it…
RUEKIE: I want to see all that stuff shoot out everywhere!
GURTASH: Aaaaand there it is.
MOKVAR: She does this on purpose, right?
RUEKIE: Does what…? <suddenly looks horrified> Oh gosh!
DROK: Actually, Warchief, I’m a fair bit sure I know what that thing is. Though I can’t say I ever expected I to see it again…
GARROSH: Well don’t just stand there being ominous, Drok. What the hell is it?
KORRINA: Is it a whale? I bet it’s a whale. I caught a whale!
GISKA: I don’t think I saw a blowhole on its back…
RUEKIE: <blushing> Could we not use that word anymore…?
DROK: It’s not a whale, sir. Whales… ah, they’re mostly harmless so long as you give them a wide berth. But this… aye, this is what whales would dream of if they had nightmares.
KORRINA: Oh so I caught something even more badass? Awesome!
GISKA: Well, I mean, you haven’t really caught it…
KORRINA: That’s just jealousy!
GARROSH: Yeah, so, Captain, I’m still hearing too much ominous and not enough answers.
Drok continues looking out at the sea without comment.
Uh, Captain?
Drok looks back to Garrosh.
DROK: Oh. The “Captain” was for me this time?
GARROSH: Dude, try to keep up. I was the one SAYING it. I’m not going to be talking to MYSELF, am I?
DROK: Aye, I reckon not, sir.
GARROSH: Right, so—
More crashing waves — accompanied by more panicked shouts from Dontrag and Utvoch — send the whole ship bucking violently. Everyone tries to steady themselves while deckhands scramble around.
DROK: <shouting toward the bow> Helm! Try bringing us around portside and give us some distance!
DONTRAG: <overboard> Warchief? Um, a rope maybe?
UTVOCH: <overboard> Please, sir?
GARROSH: YOU TWO SHUT UP WHILE I’M WORRYING ABOUT MORE IMPORTANT THINGS THAN YOU, IN OTHER WORDS ANYTHING.
DONTRAG: <overboard> Yes sir…
GARROSH: So do I get an answer here, Drok, or do we have to play fucking charades or some shit?
DROK: It’s not a whale, Warchief. It’s a whale shark. The kind we saw in the deep waters around Vashj’ir, back when I first served under General Nazgrim. Legionnaire then, sir. They don’t often venture this far south… or far north… but this one… Ah, yes, this one, sir. This one’s an exception.
GARROSH: Wait, you know this one specifically?
DROK: Aye, sir. I’ve seen him before. Never expected I might again. At least I would have hoped…
MOKVAR: How can you tell it’s not just some other whale shark?
MALKOROK: <calling below> Gunners! Get up here and man the cannons!
DROK: Look… on his next pass… aye, there!
The whale shark emerges again, setting off waves that send the ship tilting to one side; in the process, it also lifts Dontrag and Utvoch on its back, where they flail around frantically.
There, see, Warchief, the great white hump on the beast’s back…
GARROSH: Dammit, you idiots, get out of the way — you’re blocking the view!
DONTRAG: <sliding around on the whale shark’s back awkwardly> But— but sir…!
GARROSH: BUT NOTHING! Don’t make me tell the gunners to aim at you FIRST!
UTVOCH: <spilling off the side of the whale shark> Yes si— oof!
DROK: And there, Warchief… see the wrinkled white forehead… and along the one side, that long scar, left by ill-fated attempts in days long past to bring the monster down…
UTVOCH: <invisible amid the crashing waves> I really don’t like the sound of this, sir!
GARROSH: Neither do I, if by “this” you mean “your endless bitching”!
While the whole shark sinks and rises again amid the waves, Utvoch manages to climb onto its back and grab onto the dorsal fin.
UTVOCH: Donty! Up here! If we hold on to the fin maybe it won’t be able to bite us!
GISKA: So Captain…
Garrosh looks at her.
Um, Captain Drok, I mean.
Garrosh shrugs.
How do you know about this shark?
DROK: Ah, young’un, this beast has a name for himself, ’mid those of us sail the oceans. Mobius-Dick, the great white whale shark. Told in whispers, mostly, a ghost story for the seas, but for me, and a handful of others, well, we knew all too well he’s real.
The whale shark breaches and crashes back down on the water, rocking the ship again, then dives below the surface. Korrina’s fishing pole gets yanked out of her hands.
KORRINA: Wha— Oh dammit!
DROK: I’ve seen the beast once before, Warchief. You remember, Warchief, back before General Nazgrim found Pandaria in the southern seas, you remember I’d gone on an expedition for him to the northern ones.
GARROSH: Right, I remember. The force we sent to Northrend.
DROK: To pick up a certain arcane trinket. And deliver it to your blood elf friend a ways east.
MALKOROK: Hmph. Bite your tongue, Drok, calling that pompous elf a friend.
DROK: Ah, but he was good at his job in any case, though, wasn’t he.
GARROSH: Did a good job on the mana bomb, true enough.
DROK: Yes, sir — I like to think we had a hand in it as well. Sure, by the time Thalen was working his magic — heh! — we were setting said back home through the northern seas, but I like to think us delivering… well, Warchief, you know… I like to think, in a way, that we delivered the mana bomb.
GARROSH: So, what, on the way back is when you saw this thing or something?
DROK: Aye. On the way home.
Drok goes quiet moment while the crashing of waves around them goes more still.
Mobius-Dick slammed unannounced into our side, Warchief, barely a day out of our rendezvous delivering the mana bomb. 110 orcs went into the water. Ship went down in minutes. And of course, Warchief, our mission had been so secret, no rescue was bound to be coming, not right away. First light, Warchief, Mobius-Dick come cruising back again. So we formed ourselves in tight groups. <chuckles grimly> You know, like maneuvers from basic training, closing the ranks… <waving toward the trainees without looking at them> You young ones learning all that, I wager… And the idea was, whale shark comes near a the group and they’d start pounding and hollering… and sometimes the whale shark would go away. Sometimes he wouldn’t go away… So, 110 orcs went in the water, 31 come out, Mobius-Dick took the rest, twelve days before Theramore. Anyway… we delivered the mana bomb.
MOKVAR: Spirits.
KULKESH: <aside> Remind me never to sign up for naval duty.
GISKA: <aside> Yeah. <beat> Also, don’t phrase it that way too loud around Ruekie.
KULKESH: <aside> Could be entertaining, though.
GISKA: <aside> True.
GARROSH: How did I not hear about any of this?
MALKOROK: We had reports of an incident at sea and recovery, Warchief, but I don’t remember being given the details.
GARROSH: Because I REMEMBER you commanding one of the ships in at Theramore, Drok.
DROK: That I did, Warchief.
GARROSH: In fact, I’m pretty sure you delivered the small strike force we sent in to extract Thalen.
DROK: I suppose I’m a veritable delivery man, sir.
MOKVAR: So you mean you came home from… from that, and turned right around to take another mission?
DROK: I’m a soldier of the Horde, sir, and Nazgrim trained me well. I’m a soldier and I had my duty, and so long as I still have legs, I’ll perform it.
GARROSH: Well, whatever it is, if it—
With a loud crash of waves, Mobius-Dick — with Dontrag and Utvoch still hanging desperately onto its dorsal fin — emerges close to the ship, causing a surge of waves that sends the ship tilting sharply to one side. Deckhands scramble around while Drok barks orders.
DONTRAG: <sputtering for breath> Guh— we— Ut? You still there?
UTVOCH: <sputtering as well> Yeah— I— blurg— I can’t see you, though, I think I got like some salt water in my eyes somehow…
MALKOROK: Get those cannons armed while we have a clear line on it!
DONTRAG: Warchief?
DROK: Aye, sir!
UTVOCH: Sir?
GARROSH: OPEN FIRE!
The cannoneers open fire at Mobius-Dick; the whale shark thrashes violently and splashes water heavily over the deck, dousing everyone nearby.
KORRINA: Guh!
MOKVAR: Dammit, I just dried this suit…
RUEKIE: Ack! That big Dick got me all wet!
KULKESH: Uh…
KORRINA: Uh… Ruek…
GISKA: It’s… it’s not even worth getting into.
MOKVAR: Are we sure she’s not doing it on purpose?
Another round of cannon fire pelts one side of the whale shark — with Dontrag and Utvoch visible still clinging to the dorsal fin.
DONTRAG: <sputtering> You know, Ut, I’m starting to think maybe this fin idea might not have been the best plan…
UTVOCH: <gasping for breath> Well geez, would you rather get swallowed?
DONTRAG: It might be better than getting pulled under till we drown!
UTVOCH: But then we’d get… like…. slowly digested for a thousand years or something!
DROK: Helm, keep us alongside! Don’t let him close on us!
MALKOROK: Kor’kron! Maintain fire!
DONTRAG: Wait! Sir!
UTVOCH: Warchief, please!
Dontrag and Utvoch clamber in tighter against the dorsal fin, partially trying to use it for cover amid the increasing hail of cannonballs.
GARROSH: I’M HEARING WAY TOO MUCH NOISE FROM THE FUCKING EXPENDABLES. <bellowing below deck> Get some shaman up here to try to steady the waters! And while we’re at it, hey, how about some of those beastmasters we brought get their damn asses up here, what with we got a goddamn beast that could use some mastering! Unless they’re all working at the frigging Steve level!
UTVOCH: Poor Steve!
DONTRAG: Spirits rest his soul — I can’t believe he’s gone!
UTVOCH: Yeah, I know — he owed me like fifteen gold…
DONTRAG: Dammit, Ut, the poor guy’s dead! Eaten even!
UTVOCH: <hanging on to the whale shark desperately as it thrashes> Yeah, well, better him than us!
DONTRAG: Ut, there were never any devilsaur gonna eat us!
UTVOCH: Spirits’ sake, Donty, look where we are right now!
GARROSH: OKAY, THAT’S IT, I’VE HAD ENOUGH OF THE PRATTLING IDIOT SOUNDTRACK ON CONSTANT LOOP WHILE WE HAVE LITERAL BIGGER FISH TO FRY!
Garrosh grabs a harpoon from a weapons rack and runs back to the edge of the deck.
DONTRAG: Warchief! We’re sorry, sir!
UTVOCH: We really mean it this time, sir! Cross our hearts and hope to —
DONTRAG: Dammit, Ut!
GARROSH: SHUT! THE FUCK! UP!
Garrosh hurls the harpoon toward Mobius-Dick — hitting it square in the middle of its wrinkled forehead. The whale shark thrashes violently, shaking Dontrag and Utvoch off its back; the duo fly toward the ship. The whale shark’s thrashing causes a wave that douses the deck again, just as D&U crash into Garrosh.
DONTRAG: <sprawled, with Utvoch, awkwardly on the deck> I… I don’t think I like seafood anymore…
UTVOCH: My hands are all pruney…
GARROSH: <drumming his fingers on the deck> You know, I’ll bet you anything this kind of shit didn’t used to happen to Thrall…
So… yeah. That was a thing. More fun than you’re ever going to have without lighting your own head on fire. On the plus side, turns out that whale shark steaks are pretty tasty. Although overall I don’t know if I can recommend them, what with the accompanying side order of moron jackassery. Or do they count that as a garnish? Tough call.
Either way, we should be reaching Pandaria soon. Cross your fingers for no more outbreaks of stupidity.
