Arrival at the Undercity
I’ll say this for Sylvanas, she’s a gracious hostess. I arrived in Tirisfal Glades this morning by zeppelin (along with Mokvar, General Nazgrim and his attaché Captain Drok, and a few other support people), and Sylvanas rolled out the welcome wagon. Mounted Forsaken royal guards lining the path up to the ruins of Lordaeron, full banquet arranged to welcome us, VIP quarters, the whole nine yards. She definitely knows how to treat guests.
On the down side, HOLY SHIT does this place smell.
No, I mean seriously.
At one point while Sylvanas was showing us around, I said to Mokvar, “Fuck, did something die in here?” And it was one of those deals where right as soon as you say something, you realize what a bad idea it was, and Mokvar gave me the big wide “Seriously?” eyes, right as Sylvanas was starting to give me one of those uncomfortable “I’m not going to call you on it but you and I both know what you just said” looks, and yeah.
But still, fucking hell. Cannot possibly overstate the stink. Then again, I suppose that’s what you get when you build an entire city in a fucking sewer.
This also gave me the chance to check in with Bragor Bloodfist face to face for the first time in ages. Worth noting, by the way – even though he knew we were coming in today, for some odd reason he couldn’t be bothered to get his ass out to the front gates to welcome us with Sylvanas and, you know, the half-dozen other semi-quasi-dignitaries she brought with her. Which you would think he might make a point of doing, what with (a) it being his JOB to keep an eye on things and (b) it being his BOSS showing up. Anyway, our face time also gave me the chance to have one of the mages on hand cast a glowy shimmery glamour effect around Sylvanas’ head, point it out to Bragor, then smack him around a few times while making the point, “Her eyes are up THERE, fuckwit.” I seriously need to scrape up some better lackeys. Taking applications now.
We’re stopping by the Apothecarium (They actually call it that? Is that even a fucking word?) this afternoon to meet with Faranell and the rest of his people and see where things stand on their research. While that’s going on, Nazgrim is sending Drok down to Southshore to coordinate with Warlord Cromush and check on the state of things down there. More updates soon.
[Header image provided by regular reader and commenter ZugZug, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Ah, I remember my first trip to Undercity. My friend described it as smelling like the distilled rage of ten thousand angry poos. I’d say that you get used to it, but lying to a superior officer is a court-martial offense.
But get this: FISH LIVE IN THAT SLUDGE. I kid you not. How do they taste, you ask? I don’t know. I’ve never been demented enough to try. There’s not enough pepper sauce in the whole of the Eastern Kingdoms to make them edible.
Undead really don’t have a sense of taste or smell. And let’s face it, I can’t get any deader so eating a glowing sickly fish won’t do anything except make my torso glow where the skin flaps are thin.