Tag Archives: baine bloodhoof
Fashionably late
So after this week’s fiasco, Baine rounded up his braves and went back to Mulgore, and Vol’jin rounded up his trolls and took them back to the Echo Isles, other than the handful who were staying here in Orgrimmar in the Valley of Spirits. Malkorok’s been going around the city working on recruiting and stepping up the production of weapons, armor, and siege engines.
Captain Gharga arrived back home with the Horde fleet, and after a little time for the crews to catch some break time on land, I had General Nazgrim take command of the fleet and take it back out on a sweep across a number of naval targets. Since the Alliance fleet was weakened in the last battle, I want to strike while the iron is hot and keep pressing the battle to them.
Meanwhile, in the middle of all this, who should finally show up in Orgrimmar than everybody’s favorite mental defectives, Dontrag and Utvoch. Check this out. They came strolling on into Orgrimmar today, fresh from Stonetalon or Ashenvale or wherever the fuck they were that I don’t care about, and they were all, “Hey, we heard there was a huge party going on over our big victory! Which way to the feasts?”
Mokvar and Eitrigg stopped me before I beat them both to death.
Jury is still out on whether that was a good or a bad thing.
Ugh.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Turn of the tide
Well THIS has been an ugly turn, let me just say.
So as I was saying last time, I wasn’t exactly thrilled that the Alliance were able to squirm out from under their imminent deaths-by-kraken, but I could still deal with that. Their counteroffensive on Durotar got thoroughly slapped back, they lost a ton of ships, Horde losses were minimal, fine. Would have been nice if we could have polished them off entirely, but still, worst spin you could put on our side was it was a draw, best spin you could put on theirs is they avoided a total fucking catastrophe. All good.
But this? This is going to stick in my craw for a while.
By the way, what the hell is a craw?
Anyway. I gathered up some troops to bring down to Northwatch Hold, but once we were under way, I took off ahead of everyone and pushed my worg Malak to race down there as fast as she could. Malkorok, Baine, and Vol’jin kept fairly close behind me (you should have seen Baine’s kodo’s little legs go – would have been kind of endearing if I wasn’t so pissed off at the time). We ended up well ahead of any of the other soldiers. And in the end, none of us made it all the way there.
I stopped at a distance once Northwatch was clearly within view. Malkorok, Baine, and Vol’jin had the good sense to keep their distance while I took it all in. The Alliance flag was already flying there again, and the place was swarming with water elementals. More happy deliveries from Jaina.
How the hell did this happen? We had every tactical advantage. We had the Alliance on the fucking ROPES, with our foot on their throat. And now? Now there wouldn’t even be any point in having our troops continue on – staging an attempt to retake Northwatch would be a suicide mission at this point.
While I was fuming over all this, one of Baine’s Longrunners arrived with even more happy news – Varian was sending his fleet around to break our blockade. Terrific. I wasn’t interested in letting an ugly situation turn even uglier, so I sent Malkorok back with orders to have our ships withdraw and return home. Don’t think for a minute that THAT order didn’t stick in my throat a little.
Baine turned all happy on me at that point. He thought it meant I was giving up on taking the fight to the Alliance and pushing for the Horde to take its rightful place of dominance. Well, I straightened him out on that count right quick. No way in hell am I abandoning this fight – if anything, we’re stepping it up. More troops, more ships, more weapons, more everything. The Alliance thinks this is over? Fuck that. We’re just getting started.
Baine and Vol’jin didn’t much like the sound of that, and they both did a little more griping before they both turned around and headed home.
And you know something? I’m getting goddamn sick and tired of listening to those two complain. All through this latest campaign, I’ve been defending them to Malkorok for meaning well in their own way, and being loyal and great warriors in their own right. But you know what? This whole deal where I have to listen to the two of them complain every time I make a decision is getting REAL old REAL fast. They were DEAD. Baine was dead. Vol’jin was dead. Orgrimmar fucking FELL. And I’ve had quite enough of this bullshit where I save the fucking world only to have people bitch and moan like ingrates over the way I’ve gone about doing it.
I’ve already sacrificed too much in the name of saving the Horde to let victory escape us now. I’ve let friends die and enemies live. I’ve thrown away my own honor doing it, because I had to. Because it was either my honor, or the survival of the entire Horde – the entire fucking WORLD. Dranosh Saurfang was a brother to me, but his death was the only way to save the world from flames. It was the only way, so I killed him. And I liked him a whole fucking lot more than I like Baine or Vol’jin.
What difference does it make if Orgrimmar burns at the hands of the demons, or the humans? If the Alliance wins now – if the Horde doesn’t emerge triumphant and strong and in control of its destiny – then Dranosh died for nothing. Cairne died for nothing. Taurajo burned for nothing. ALL of it was for NOTHING.
No. I won’t have it. Not while I’m Warchief. Not on my watch. We’ve paid too high a price already.
We’re pressing on, fighting on, and we’re not stopping, not slowing, not flinching until we win. I promise you that, Dranosh. In your memory. In your honor.
For the Horde.
Two if by sea
Okay, so that didn’t exactly go the way I drew it up on the chalkboard.
Things started off well enough. When the troll scout showed up with word that Alliance ships were headed to Durotar, I took off with Malkorok for Bladefist Bay and sent word to our own ships — including the ones anchored down at Northwatch Hold — to get back here to help with the defense. The only boat at Bladefist Bay when I arrived was a goblin ship — you know, that rickety-looking one that ALWAYS seems to be there. I commandeered it and headed out with Malkorok and a contingent of Kor’kron to meet our ships on the way up from Northwatch.
When we met the other ships — a handful of them, but enough — we could see the Alliance fleet approaching. That’s when I rolled out the surprise welcoming committee for Varian and his boys, courtesy of my shaman. From our ships, they started working their magic, and from the depths of the ocean summoned up kraken. Eight of them, to be exact — vast and hulking and totally, utterly at our command.
The Alliance fleet hardly even knew what hit it.
While the kraken were reducing the enemy ships to flotsam, I decided I wanted to smack a few humans down myself before it was too late, so I pulled my ship alongside one of theirs and jumped over. After I’d taken down a few of the crew I got an extra treat — this was the royal flagship, and lo and behold, up close and personal and ready to have at it, there was Varian Wrynn. We traded blows, just enough for me to REALLY start to look forward to finishing him off once and for all (by the way, fuck you, Varian), but then our battle was interrupted by one of the kraken smashing the flagship to splinters.
I swam back to one of our ships and took in the sight. The kraken were reducing the Alliance fleet to ruins. Only a handful of their ships remained. Alliance survivors from the devastated ships were swimming frantically for the few that were still afloat, while many more of their comrades were well on their way to a fitting end as fish food.
It was all coming together right before my eyes. This was how it would begin. The death of Varian, the fall of the Alliance, the end of any delusion they might ever have had that they could stand against us. Four Horde ships against a dozen or more, victorious with barely a scratch.
And then.
I’d rather not even think about it. But here goes.
I didn’t fully realize what was going on at first. A blue dragon flew over us — it looked like the one we’d seen and wounded on the way to Theramore, and seemed to be carrying a humanoid. And then, all of a sudden, dozens — no, hundreds — of water elementals started to emerge from the sea and swarmed over the kraken, wearing them down and, eventually, killing them, one by one. The dragon continued to fly back and forth, and on one pass, I finally managed to see who it was carrying — Jaina Proudmoore, alive after all. This was her handiwork. Just before she moved too far out of view, I managed to make out a small, pulsing, glowing blue sphere in her hands.
The Focusing Iris.
Oh for fuck’s sake. I mean, come on, Focusing Iris, elementals, can’t fucking ANYONE get their own ideas anymore?
Anyway, I wasn’t about to risk letting the situation at sea get any further out of control. We’d still essentially neutralized an Alliance offensive that had greatly superior numbers, not to mention put their navy back a good number of ships, so if we needed to pull back at that point to regroup, so be it. We turned back and made our way to Bladefist Bay, while the few remaining Alliance ships took off as well. Only problem is, from what we could see, the Alliance ships weren’t sailing due east, like they would if they were planning to head straight back to Stormwind. They were sailing south.
As soon as we landed, I called together as many soldiers as I could gather quickly, plus Vol’jin and Baine, who’d heard what was going on and had come to meet me at the bay. We’re heading down to the Barrens to Northwatch Hold. I’ll update again soon. I’m starting to think that when I do, I’ll be in a very foul mood.
The Razor Hill incident
The party’s still going strong throughout Orgrimmar, but this afternoon I’ve been taking a break from eating, drinking, and making merry to tend to a little business. There have been a few internal security reports from Malkorok that I’ve been needing to go over, but one in particular that came in this morning that I’ve been focusing on.
ATTN: Garrosh Hellscream, glorious Warchief of the Horde
RE: Razor Hill and related investigations
Local security reported last night’s destruction of Razor Hill Inn by explosion. Full investigation conducted earlier today. Findings, conclusions, and recommendations detailed below.
FINDINGS:
- Initial report submitted by Orgnil Soulscar at 11:00 PM. Eyewitnesses place explosion at approximately 10:15 to 10:30 PM.
- At time of explosion, innkeeper Grosk was outside inn, disposing of trash. Explosion threw innkeeper several yards away; suffered multiple light to moderate injuries.
- Forensics indicate explosion originated from within inn. Remnants of several frag grenades recovered, most from tavern, some from remains of upstairs area.
- Recovered grenade fragments appear goblin in design, with signs of poor construction.
- Total 26 bodies recovered from all areas of inn: 2 orc; 4 goblin; 7 tauren; 8 troll; 3 blood elf; 2 forsaken.
- Among bodies positively identified: Captains Frandis Farley, Undercity; Kelantir Bloodblade, Silvermoon.
CONCLUSIONS:
- Blast appears to have occurred as a result of poorly constructed explosives stored improperly in upstairs room of inn. Possible amateurish work by engineering trainee or carelessness by inexperienced soldier. Both would be frequent denizens of Razor Hill based on typical town demographics.
- Explosion likely exacerbated by several kegs of alcoholic beverages stored haphazardly in tavern.
- No indications of foul play; however, possibility of Alliance sabotage or treasonous insurgent activity cannot be ruled out 100%.
RECOMMENDATIONS:
- Review training programs for Horde recruits in use and storage of military explosives. Possibly expand requirement of these training programs to ensure all soldiers and conscripts are adequately knowledgeable on proper handling of ordnance.
- Continued follow-up investigation among related parties, particularly trolls and tauren, in light of recent conspicuous absence of Vol’jin and Baine Bloodhoof from both Orgrimmar and Razor Hill.
- Reassignment of one to two Kor’kron-trained security personnel to outlying towns and outposts. Ideally all such locations, staff permitting; at minimum, all outposts in close proximity to Orgrimmar or other capital cities.
- Payment to innkeeper Grosk, as generously as budget will permit, of reimbursement for property damage, rebuilding, and pain and suffering. It would be a shame for a loyal citizen to lose his livelihood through no fault of his own.
As always, any further discoveries will be brought to the Warchief’s attention immediately.
Case classified as CLOSED, with allowance for subsequent addenda.
–Malkorok of the Kor’kron High Guard.
I’ve read over the report a couple times, and I’ll tell you right now, there’s more than one part of this whole thing that doesn’t sit right with me. Not least of all the fact that Kelantir was one of the deaths. She trained under Liadrin, so I kind of feel like after everything we’ve been through lately, I owe it to Liadrin to deliver that news myself. Not looking forward to that conversation.
Malkorok seems pretty satisfied with his investigation – if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s covering all his bases, not to mention how fast he turned this report around – but he also mentioned some followup work in there. Might be something to be said for due diligence. In fact, I may see about sending a personal messenger down to Brackenwall Village while we still have some people doing a little back-and-forth in Dustwallow.
Hang on. Visitor.
So that was a troll scout, with news of the urgent variety.
The Alliance is coming.
Naval scouts have just reported an Alliance fleet approaching Bladefist Bay – dozens of ships, including one marked as a royal flagship. Which can mean only one thing: Varian.
The messenger was all worked up and panicking – as it this was a bad thing. Me, I could barely contain my excitement. I’d just assumed I would have to go to Stormwind in order to give an overdue stepping-on to that two-legged, pink-skinned cockroach. I never dreamed he would hop on a ship and come deliver himself to me right here. Crisis? Please. This is a gift. Hell, I’ll have to remember to tell Varian thank you, right before I snap his spindly neck.
I’m heading to Bladefist Bay to lead a force to intercept the Alliance ships at sea, along with a few surprises. I just hope I can get close enough to see the look on that sniveling human’s face when he sees what I have in store for him.
It’s about to be a very good day. The end of history has begun.
The house always wins
One day into our week of festivities, and the party is already in full swing. Citizens from all over the Horde have been flocking to Orgrimmar to join in the celebration, and the roads have been packed with jubilant people. You can’t walk down a street without passing multiple barbeque pits and makeshift smokehouses, all sporting free food for all. (On a not-exactly-unrelated note, the slums in the Valley of Spirits have been fairly empty – everybody’s made their way over to dip into the free food while it lasts. Yup, it’s a good week to be poor.)
All Horde fighters from the Northwatch/Theramore campaign have been instructed to stay in Durotar for the duration of the festivities, but I also issued personal invitations to many of our soldiers and commanders to remain in Orgrimmar for the feasts and other events. Since Baine and Vol’jin have both been…less than enthused about our triumph, I conveniently neglected to issue invitations to them – let them skulk off to whatever corner they choose and pout over the awful burden of victory for as long as they feel the need, as long as they stay here in Durotar until we’re ready to get back to business.
Meanwhile, I sent invitations out to some of our soldiers who didn’t have the good fortune to join us on our glorious campaign, to at least come to Orgrimmar to partake in the celebration. I figured, for instance, that after all the time he’s spent in the Undercity, Bragor Bloodfist could stand to take a few days to enjoy the clean Durotar air. (Not to mention I’m guessing Sylvanas would probably appreciate a couple days without him, um, peeking around. Maybe dude can go hang with Belgrom Rockmaul for a while. Those two could probably compare creeper notes…) Plus I sent an invite out to Warlord Zaela of the Dragonmaw – figured she hasn’t really gotten to spend a lot of time in Orgrimmar, so why not have her come over to see the place at its most vibrant.
I spent a chunk of the day today over at the Ring of Valor taking in some of the sparring matches that have been going on between some of our best fighters – and you’ll never guess who turned up again over there. Trade Prince Gallywix, back from wherever it is he disappears to, back again now that there’s a lull in the actual fighting. He was buzzing around the arena, placing odds and taking bets on all the fights. I’m not sure how he managed it, but somehow he’d worked out a way to juggle the odds so that no matter what happened, he always came out ahead of the game. He had to bring a pack of goblin assistants to help him lug around all the gold he was raking in.
When he saw me there, he came slithering on over, and then – lucky me – I had the treat of his company for most of the time I was there. One definite highlight, though: before one of the final matches of the day – a real high-power matchup between Zaela and General Nazgrim – Gallywix was feeling pretty high on the horse, so I got him to accept a personal bet with me. Not one of his line-hedging bookie bets, mind you, just him and me, betting straight up, his money on Nazgrim, mine on Zaela. Not that Nazgrim isn’t a hell of a fighter in his own right, but I’ve seen Zaela in action. If I’m planning a military operation and need a field commander, Nazgrim’s my man, no two ways about it – but in a toe-to-toe slugfest? That’s Zaela all the way.
Zaela didn’t let me down. I wound up walking away wearing that fancy-ass top hat that Gallywix always has on. Or, well, always HAD on. Gotta say, this thing’s pretty spiffy. I might have to look into a walking stick to go with it. Or maybe a monocle. What do you think?
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
It’s a celebration, bitches!
We took our time marching back to Orgrimmar from the glowing crater that used to be Theramore. Most of the way, Baine and Vol’jin sulked and moped like somebody had killed the family pet, but overall the troops were in good spirits, to say the least. And then, when we finally approached Orgrimmar, morale took an even greater turn for the better.
Outside the city, people were gathered to greet us. Hundreds – maybe thousands – of citizens of every race, gathered at the front gate and all across the Dranosh’ar Blockade, waving, cheering, crying out to us as we approached. They were gathered so densely that we couldn’t even get in the gate when we finally reached it. It was like the hero’s welcome we received on our victorious return from Northrend – only better. More raucous. More jubilant. More hopeful for the glorious future for the Horde that we could all feel dawning.
The crowd chanted my name as I sat on my worg at the gate. They wouldn’t stop until I finally called for them to listen while I told the tale of our triumph. When I finished, they burst into another spontaneous chant: “Death to the Alliance!”
Music to my ears. Almost enough to full the hollow ache that’s nagged at me since Northwatch.
On the way back to Orgrimmar, I sent orders to Captain Gharga and the fleet at Theramore for the next stage of our plan. The fleet will spread around the continent and form a blockade around all remaining Alliance ports: Lor’danel, Feathermoon Stronghold, Rut’theran Village, Azuremyst Isle. They’ll all be sealed off from outside support and then, one by one, we’ll move in and pick them apart, until finally, Kalimdor will belong to the Horde and the Horde alone.
But that will be a victory for the future. The NEAR future, make no mistake, but the future nonetheless. For today, we have another victory to celebrate.
I’ve ordered six days of festivities in Orgrimmar to commemorate what I know will prove to be the turning point in the history of the Horde. All of our warriors are instructed to remain in Durotar for the length of the celebration, and I’ll be issuing individual summons for all those I’ll be expecting to stay in Orgrimmar proper. Six days of celebrations – raptor fights for our entertainment, sparring contests with generous prizes funded personally by yours truly, food and drink for all. As it happens, our return home coincides almost perfectly with Brewfest, so all the better – beer and grog from around the world! Tap every keg in sight, boys and girls, and let the ale flow – all on your Warchief’s tab. Let it wash down the feasts – and oh, man, will there ever be feasts. All accompanied by lok’tras and lok’vadnods by the best of our bards and poets.
And you know what that means. Oh yeah.
Jaina, are you shattered
Over Theramore, all splattered?
Towns, by sleight of hand, you
Can’t just conjure up, now can you?
If not, tough – no QQ’in’,
You’re just stuck now ruling ruins.
Of course, that would assume
You weren’t blown up when things went boom;
Chance you’re grieving now decreases
If you’re smashed to little pieces!
But whether live or dead you lie,
Now you’ll weep and you’ll know why:
Orcish destiny restored,
All opposed fall to the Horde!
Tis the blight humans were born for,
The Alliance that you mourn for.
EPIC VERSE!
Enjoy it, Horde. Soak it in. You’ve earned it.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
The fall of Theramore
Victory from the jaws of defeat.
Or, no, that’s not quite accurate. Defeat was never really in the picture. This was more victory from under the guide of defeat.
That much sweeter, in a way. Let the humans think they’d won, right up to the moment that their doom became inescapable. The moment they realized it was upon them, and had nothing left to do but stand there helplessly and watch it come.
Today was a good day.
After we left Northwatch Hold, we marched south and made short work of Fort Triumph. I couldn’t help chuckling at the irony of the name while we annihilated what passed for its defenses. I think our soldiers were so eager for battle after the long wait at Northwatch that they threw themselves with ever great ferocity into the fight once it finally came.
The long wait at Northwatch. To them – what? – six days?
They’ll never know how long their Warchief had been waiting for this moment.
We continued on our way into Dustwallow Marsh and divided our forces at the fork in the road. Half of our troops traveled north with me, while half went east with Malkorok. We would meet at Theramore and strike both its gates at the same time. As my half of the army made its way north, we added reinforcements from Brackenwall Village – Krog and Draz’Zilb among them – then continued on our way toward Theramore.
My contingent was the first to reach the city. Jaina had recruited aid from the Kirin Tor to help strengthen the city’s defenses against our battering rams and siege engines. It was a wise decision on her part. Pity I’d been counting on it. Me and…what’s his name, the blood elf guy. I can never remember. I should probably work on that, seeing as he really stepped up to the plate with more than one part of this plan.
See, Jaina had called in mages from the Kirin Tor to help hold the Theramore gates against our attack. A powerful mage could reinforce a gate for a good long time against our siege. As it happened, though, one of those crucial, city-saving mages was a guy by the name of Thalen Songweaver.
A blood elf.
See if you can guess who writes his checks.
Down came the gates, and in came the Horde.
Malkorok’s forces joined ours in the midst of it all, and Captain Drok and the rest of the Horde fleet hit the harbor. Our troops flooded into Theramore, laying waste to its defenders. Jaina and her wizard friends did a decent job of chipping away at our numbers from above, but on the ground, none of the Theramore soldiers could hold their own against our assault.
Everything was going perfectly until Jaina’s new blue dragon friend turned up and started dropping boulders and trees over the broken gate. Kalecgos… I remember meeting him, once, just after Deathwing’s defeat. Apparently mortality’s left him pretty damn bored these days, because now he had nothing better to do than meddle in battles that were none of his concern. Problem was – as Baine and Vol’jin were only too quick to point out – at the rate the big lizard was going, he would shore up the opening right quick, and seal us all inside. At that point, closed in without any further reinforcements from outside, it would just be a matter of time before the mages picked us off.
So, I ordered our forces to fall back. We cleared out of the city and retreated to the north and west. We all regrouped just west of the bridge over Dustwallow Bay, overlooking Theramore. Baine was less than thrilled about how things had gone. Can’t really blame him, though, considering he wasn’t seeing the big picture. The foolish tauren thought the siege was all there was to this attack. For all he could see, this was a loss.
But see, here’s the thing. When you fight me, there’s never just one piece to the plan I throw at you. Sure, it would have been nice if the siege had gone perfectly. But that’s the beauty of it all. It didn’t have to.
Welcome to fighting Garrosh Hellscream, Theramore. Evern when I lose, I win.
Sure, you fought off the attack on your gates… And kept yourselves busy while Drok slipped into the harbor and dropped off a small, elite strike team, who crippled your aerial defenses and recovered our agent Thalen Songweaver.
And sure, you managed to secure that north gate again… And sealed yourselves in, within the city walls. With some of the Alliance’s greatest generals, who’d come to aid in the defense. Closed in together. Nice and compact. All in one place.
Boy, it sure would suck for you if I had, say, a giant bomb I could drop on you right now.
Oh, wait. I do.
Goblin sky galleon. Blood elf mana bomb. And the immeasurable power of a handy little relic called the Focusing Iris.
Goodbye, Theramore.
The troops cheered around me as I pointed to our victory and the sky glowed white and purple with the aftershocks of the mana explosion. Louder and louder, raucous voices all around me. Some stared in shock, confusion, maybe even…misguided disapproval. No matter. Give them time. They’ll come around. Eventually, victory wins everyone over. And we won.
I turned and looked over the bay, holding Gorehowl over my head, taking in the sight of our triumph, of the mark we had left on this world, never to be forgotten.
Deep down, in some tiny, hollow corner, I knew it still wasn’t quite enough.
But it would do. For a start.
Monday mailbag
So yeah, I know I’m just getting this mailbag in under the wire for it to count as Monday, but whatever, it’s hard to get a stable internet connection out here in the fucking swamp. I’m writing from the field as we make our final march into Dustwallow Marsh. I figured I haven’t answered any mail for a while, so it might be good to offer up a few messages from the my loyal Horde minions before we but a roflstomping on the humans.
Let’s see what we’ve got…
Written on a heavy parchment in multicolored inks, the first impression of this letter is one of chaos. Small sketches of Tauren, prairie wolves, swoops, and other sights of Mulgore clutter the margins, at times encroaching on the text itself. The sketches are obviously done quickly, but with moderate skill; the subjects are clearly recognizable even though the drawings are rough and unfinished. In contrast, the words meander across the page, crooked and shaky, with the occasional backwards letter. Many times a word will be started in one color of ink and finished in another, as if the writer got distracted halfway through the word.
Dear Mistr Warcheif Sir,
I have a question, and the nice ork Mistr U told me to write to you and ask. Hes visiting, and hes been reel nice to me. He talks a lot. Sumtimes I cant ask him anything because he talks too much. But he told me to ask you. He said you would kno. I wanted to ask if brown orks taste diffrent than green orks. Do green orks taste like mint? Are brown orks chocklate? Tauren taste like fur. Why are you brown when the other orks are green? Did you eat too much chocklate? Everyone tells me I cant eat too much chocklate, itll make me sick. Did you get sick from chocklate? Mistr U needs to go now, so I have to stop riting and give this to him.
The letter is signed with a large, inky pawprint, a small sketch of a Tauren druid in cat form, and the shaky name “Taktani,” with every letter in a different color ink.
Um…
Hmm…
Well…
<scratches head>
The FUCK is this?
Okay, so I get that the talkative orc this person is talking about is probably Utvoch… I mean, starts with “U” and talks too much, how many of those could there be? And I guess this is good since it confirms D&U must still be alive in the restored timeline after…well…you know. Um…I GUESS that’s a good thing. Not sure what Utvoch is doing in Mulgore rather than Vindication Hold up in Stonetalon, but whatever. I guess being killed in the line of duty earns you a little R&R time.
As for you, Taktani…um, no, brown orcs don’t taste like chocolate, and green orcs don’t taste like mint. Although it IS kind of funny thinking of that, since it would mean, what, Thrall and Aggra are going to have mint chocolate chip babies? Heh. But no, we just taste like….orc. I mean for real, I get enough attention from the ladies as it is, what with me being Warchief and dead sexy and all — last thing I need is for word to start getting around that I taste like chocolate too. Dude, I won’t be able to walk down the fucking STREET.
Anyway, Taktani, thanks for writing just the same. Hopefully you’ve outgrown Tauren Kindergarten-Land in Mulgore, and are off doing some bigger-kid stuff. The Horde can always use more good soldiers, especially on my watch with me looking far and wide for ways to keep the troops busy. Ashenvale’s looking pretty nice this time of year, if I can make a recommendation. Just don’t get too much of the damn night elf glitter in your eyes.
I’m writing’ to ya from one of our ships headin’ down to Theramore! I’m on a boat, mon!
Make sure ya watch it to da end, mon!
–Bob, S.S. Echo Isles
I… he… what the hell IS this, the mailbag of WTF?!
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that this Bob guy managed to dig up a new and creative way to be stupid. Funny, though, I’m pretty sure that’s the song I’ve been hearing Vol’jin humming to himself for most of the trip down. Maybe it’s some kind of a troll thing…
Time is short, in more ways than one. I’m writing this for those of us on the road to Theramore.
The hour of assault approaches. There may be some who doubt why we’re here. Why we’re doing this. Why we must. The reason can be given in one word: Taurajo. A hunters’ camp, not a military target, annihilated by marauding Alliance soldiers. Soldiers, I say? I misspoke: they weren’t soldiers, they were bandits. Bandits supplied, equipped, and brought to Kalimdor through one place and one place only.
That is why Theramore must burn.
That is also why I make what may sound like a peculiar request. When we make the final assault, those of us who aren’t compelled otherwise should wear Thunder Bluff’s colors. Not only will this show our solidarity with our Tauren brothers, it will also remind those cowards why we come. To remind them that Justice neither relents, nor sleeps.
For the Horde! And for Taurajo!
–A Concerned Citizen
Now THAT’S what I’m talking about! Go to it, ACC, lay some truth on them motherfuckers! I’ve got to say, one thing that’s fucking infuriated me on this trip has been seeing how many of our people HAVEN’T on board with me with the post-Taurajo hate. Check this out — I even heard a rumor that Baine was telling people that Taurajo was a legitimate military target, and the human commander at least gave the civilians room to flee, and he wonders if we’ll conduct ourselves as honorably. This is BAINE talking. BAINE. THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT? In what backwards-ass universe am I more pissed off about Camp T than chieftain of the fucking tauren?!
Anyway, I’m definitely encouraging the troops to follow your suggestion, ACC. And on that note, we’re about to spit up the force for the final march. I’ll update again soon…can’t wait to see the looks on the humans’ faces. I’ve got a little surprise planned for them…
Casualties of war
We’re still holding tight at Northwatch Hold…for more reasons than one. The second phase of the plan is ready to go, not least of all because of some clutch last-minute work by the goblins and blood elves, and all that’s left is for me to give the go-ahead.
Not yet, though. Waiting a little more could end up helping in a couple ways. One, it ultimately puts a few pieces in even better position for the Theramore plan. And two, it gives that much more time for these time tremors to kick in and save us the trouble of even dealing with what’s happening here in the first place.
Not that anyone here actually knows about any of that. Well, ALMOST no one knows about it, anyway. Mokvar knows the story with the time flashes, obviously – I haven’t said anything about my own take on them, although it wouldn’t sock me if he’s guessed, after last time. And Malkorok knows some of what’s coming strategically for Theramore. Or might be, if I decide to pull the trigger. He’s been an advocate for it, even while I’ve been on the fence myself.
Baine and Vol’jin, meanwhile, have been getting more and more grumbly. Earlier today, they came moping into the admiral’s tower here, which I’ve taken over as my personal quarters, and interrupted my lunch just to complain some more about all the waiting. I don’t mind telling you, I am getting damn sick and tired of tired of of rebma tired ni of sick sgub of erofeb dias of and evi sa and lla era ew taht dnif lliw you uoy dna tnemom yb tnemom have ti ekat si ylpmis ti a snoitanalpxe ro sgninraw ot flesti destiny dnel ton seod ti egnahc ton seod wrappings ti emit wrappings lla burial wrappings si burial emit burial lla burial burial wrappings burial wrappings were applied and the body was set in place for the final rites. Hamuul Runetotem conducted the memorial, with Aponi Brightmane chiming in an additional prayer to the Earth Mother now and again.
Even looking back, it’s amazing to think of the turnout for the service. Dranosh, Eitrigg, and I came, obviously. Varok made the trip to Mulgore all the way from Northrend. Jaina Proudmoore and – ugh – Varian Wrynn traveled from Theramore. Same for Anduin. Genn Greymane. Muradin Bronzebeard. Even Tyrande Whisperwind and Malfurion Stormrage (yeah, yeah, I know I usually call him Antlers, but this was a funeral, and even I have my limits) came out from their corner of nowhere to pay their respects. It crossed my mind after we’d all left that one of our big-bads could have turned up and dropped one big bomb on Red Rocks and taken out almost our entire leadership in one fell swoop.
Varok didn’t stray far from Cairne the whole time. The old bull was quiet, steady, stoic as always, but we all knew what had to be going on inside. The only time Cairne spoke at all – apart from him stepping forward to offer the final blessing – came when he turned to Saurfang and quietly told him he envied him. Not even for the obvious reason, not quite. He said he envied that Varok would one day meet his end knowing he would be buried by his son. That is was the proper order of things. That of all the scourges of war, none was more spiteful than its upturning of that rightful order.
I’ve spent much of the day trying to convince myself that Baine’s death shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. I can’t even say I ever knew him very well, and most of how I DID know him…well, let’s just say I’m we’re not exactly at the top of each other’s Winter’s Veil lists. It would have been naïve of me to think that this other world would only give back, only right wrongs. It would have been naïve to expect that there wouldn’t be new losses. I couldn’t really have expected otherwise. Except that I guess I did.
We’re at war. This is what happens in war. That men will die is a matter of fact. WHICH men will die…well, that’s a matter of circumstance. Baine is a victim of a different set of circumstances. Are these really any worse? I mean, yes, there’s the fact that the war with the Scourge is still going on at all. But there’s always another war. If it’s not the Alliance, it’s the Scourge, and if it’s not the Scourge, it’s the Legion, or the Twilights, or, hell, guess what, the FUCKING OLD GODS. That’s how it works. We beat one big bad, only to have another one dropped on us. Rinse, repeat, cross your fingers…
Speaking of which, though. We ended up needing to get back to Orgrimmar shortly after the service. Advance scouting reports have indicated a large Scourge force amassing in Winterspring, and we needed to review what we know and get our defenses in order, just in case. Saurfang stayed for the strategy session, what with him having logged the most Scourge-fighting hours of any of us, but we agreed that until we know what the Lich King is up to, we don’t want our troops in Northrend to be without their C.O.
We’re in the process of shoring up the rear gate to Azshara in case anything happens. In the meantime, we’ll keep watch on what’s going on up north while we get our defenses set.
Seems I’m going from one waiting game to another. Let’s hope at least one of them breaks well for us.