Tag Archives: dehta
Ahn’Qiraj
We’re not there yet, but things are starting to come together.
I met up with Garona in Silithus at the Scarab Gate. Based on the information we’d gotten from Skarr, the phylactery of Cho’gall is in Silithus (And by the way, did I mention I’m getting sick sick SICK of all the running around I’ve been stuck doing for this operation? Would it have killed them to set this all up within a few blocks?), and the final destination is going to be C’thun’s chamber in Ahn’Qiraj – but since we didn’t know whether it was already there, or going straight there, or somewhere else in transit, we decided to hit the end point first and see if we could work backwards if necessary. So we met outside the ruins and made our way into the old temple.
It’s been years since Horde adventurers fought their way through that place and cleared out the Qiraji that held the area, but it’s still creepy as hell in there. The walls look like they might as well be alive, twitchy and slimy, and even knowing the Qiraji are gone, you still can’t help feeling like at any second some giant bug monster could jump out of the dirt at you. You end up walking through the place with the weirdest uneasy feeling, like you’re constantly tricking yourself into thinking you just saw something out of the corner of your eye.
We ran into a small pack of Twilight guards as we got fairly deep into the temple, and I probably don’t need to tell you how that went for them. (Heh.) We finally reached C’thun’s chamber in the heart of the temple, where we found a pair of Twilight cultists unpacking several crates of random conjuring doohickies and reagents, arranging them around the room… And by the way, as if the place didn’t already have enough creepy factor going for it, some of C’thun’s remains were still there. Dead for years and it’s still there, looking fresh enough that you’d half expect it to wake up. Maybe those Old Gods have something about them that prevents them from decomposing the way the rest of us do when we die. Curse of flesh, right? End to end, I’m pretty sure this stop is going to do wonders for my dreams come nighttime…
Anyhow… the cultists weren’t much more of an issue than the guards were, other than the fact that these guys needed to be taken alive, what with them probably knowing the most about what was going on. Still, it didn’t take too much doing to subdue them, and then Garona and I dragged them off into separate rooms to question them separately. No comment on how much beating either of them ended up taking. Just take my word that they’re both still alive. Mostly. Can’t go killing THESE cultists just yet, at least till we’re sure we don’t need any more info from them. Anyway, point is, we were able to get some information from them.
The phylactery isn’t in the temple now, but is being moved around the zone to prevent it from staying in one place for too long. There’s a Twilight agent going around with an entourage from camp to camp while the cultists here get everything ready for the ritual. Once they’re ready, they’re supposed to send up a signal, and the courier will know to make the final delivery.
I’m FAIRLY sure I can persuade them to fill us in on how they’re supposed to give the signal. (Heh.) Which means that (a) there’s no signal going out until we let it happen, and (b) we can control when it DOES go out. Which means, now we’re in business.
So here’s the plan.
Garona’s going to stay in Ahn’Qiraj while I head back to Orgrimmar and arrange for a Kor’kron stealth team to head down to Silithus quietly. We’ll move them into the temple, set up shop, and then once we have the place secured and have all the back exits and trap doors covered, we’ll give the signal for the Twilight courier to bring home the phylactery. After all, if it’s on the move all over the zone, why spend our time chasing it all over the place, when we can just have it hand delivered, right?
On my way out of Silithus I stopped at Cenarion Hold and talked to Commander Mar’alith. As a matter of fact, when we were first heading to Silithus, I kind of figured Cenarion support might be handy before all was said and done, so…spirits help me…I sent a letter to ol’ Lather-on-us in Northrend. I figured since he’s wanting to make nice with me now that he thinks I’m cutting back on the veal (HAH!), he might be able to put in a good word for us with his Cenarion friends. Pretty much just told him we’re working on an operation against the Twilight’s Hammer, who want to destroy the world, and if they do, it might be bad for the animals. That perked him up right quick.
So Ma’alith knew I’d probably be coming, and he’s agreed to help with the operation by stepping up the Cenarion patrols of the zone to make sure no cultists leave Silithus without us knowing. Meanwhile I’m having an entire battalion posted in the passageway between Silithus and Un’goro Crater, and putting the Kor’kron Air Guard on constant patrol around the zone. Between us and the Cenarions, nobody, but nobody, is getting out of Silithus without our say-so. Which means the phylactery is sealed up in Silithus, not going anywhere, until we get our people in position to spring the trap.
And speaking of which, on my way up to Durotar, I’m making a stop at Brackenwall Village to talk with Krog and the others.
Hold on tight, kids. I have an idea.
[Header image provided by Clara from Come Get tha Voodoo, via Rioriel of Postcards From Azeroth. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
Monday mailbag
Remind me not to do the Greatfather Winter thing for the orphanage again. First of all, nobody tells you how damn uncomfortable that getup is. Seriously, would it have killed them to find some material to make it from that DIDN’T feel like sandpaper? And meanwhile…okay, some of the kids were fine. A lot of them are pretty cute, and I suppose I should be generous what with it being the holidays, and their being orphans, and the fact that a pretty good chunk of them even got to be orphans in the first place because of battles I sent their parents off to fight in, but still! OMG the SCREAMING from some of these brats! On and on and on with the screaming and the screeching, and there were two of them who really took the cake, I don’t think they ever stopped going the whole time, till eventually I started calling them Dontrag and Utvoch Jrs. in my head.
Anyway, that’s done, so hopefully it will get Eitrigg off my back about his community service kick for a while.
Now for the mail. Just one letter this time, but it’s a doozy.
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
I wish to congratulate you on behalf of everyone at D.E.H.T.A. on your recent embrace of a healthier – and far more ethical – lifestyle. I admit, I had nearly given you up as a lost cause, so imagine my surprise and delight upon being informed that you have seen the error of your ways and publicly committed to eliminating meat from your diet! We at D.E.H.T.A. are all very proud of you.
To show our support of your decision, we have compiled a care package (which you shall find on the kodo caravan accompanying this letter). It’s nothing too extravagant, just a selection of delicious fruits, vegetables, nuts and legumes from every region in Azeroth, a sampler of 25 different types of tofu, as well as several cases of exotic spices. To further assist you I have also enclosed a complimentary autographed copy of my (now sadly out of print) cookbook Sustenance Without Suffering – 519 Delectable Vegan Recipes Guaranteed to Tickle Your Tongue While Soothing Your Conscience, as well as my (likewise out of print) companion guide From the Field to Your Face – The Complete Buyer’s Guide to Azerothian Agriculture Including Detailed Information About What to Buy, When to Buy it, and From Whom. (Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to update the second book post-Cataclysm, so be careful about ordering produce from non-existent locations.)
In addition, we would like to grudgingly commend you for your various initiatives to improve the lot of the poor enslaved Wyvern taxis in your service. Although true emancipation remains elusive, (and we will never be satisfied until it has been attained!), we have noticed that working conditions are better and rest breaks are more frequent. Most notably, Mortimer appears content to remain in your service and assures us that your treatment of him has vastly improved. (We remain skeptical on this point, but there is no arguing with him. Seriously. His claws are sharp!)
Finally, I would like to personally extend a metaphorical olive branch and issue an invitation for you to join D.E.H.T.A. for brunch in the Borean Tundra at your convenience. We have many other agenda items regarding the care of Azeroth’s most vulnerable citizens (the animals) which we would like to discuss with you. Also, certain rare edible lichens are just coming into season, but sadly they do not ship very well and we could not include them in your care package. I promise it will be a taste experience you will not soon forget.
Sincerely,
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Hoo boy.
Okay, so first of all, let me tell you, when he says he’s sending a “care package” of fruits and vegetables and shit, he’s totally downplaying the fucking VOLUME of stuff. Notice how he slipped in that little mention of a kodo caravan in parentheses there, like it was just a side note? Yeah. You would not BELIEVE the size of this fucking caravan. They started marching on into Orgrimmar, and by the time the chain of them had gotten from the front gate up to Grommash Hold, and started circling around, they weren’t even halfway done. Eventually while I was watching them come in, I started looking around in the sky for fucking Nozdormu, because I thought there HAD to be some kind of time-loop gag going on. I swear, the last two kodos in the line probably met for the first time when they were first setting up the caravan, and in the time it took all of them to march into town, those last two kodos got married, had two kids, raised them, sent them to college, welcomed them back, and hooked them up in the family business of carrying fucking arugula to Garrosh, before retiring and wandering off to find the Kodo Graveyard. THAT FUCKING BIG OF A CARAVAN.
I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do with all this shit. I’m looking around the war room right now and it looks like a fucking farmer’s market. The only good thing to come out of this is that now, FINALLY, I have something new to keep Marogg busy with. I’m having him come in and just go to town, and with any luck he’ll be able to crank out a bunch of new recipes to put on sale, so maybe those Orgrimmar cooking awards might finally be worth something again. (And I’m going to be WATCHING your ass this time, stupid meddling recipe-stealing tree!)
Of course, none of this even TOUCHES the fact that Lather-on-us has some really…um…iffy reading skills. If you look back at the mailbag he’s apparently referring to, the letter from Jaina…um…yeah. Dude needs to train up [Sarcasm Detection], because…
Hold on. You know what, forget it. I’m not going to straighten him out. If he thinks I’ve gone all granola-crunchy, maybe he’ll be a little less of a headache. No more of the stupid protests and letter-writing campaigns (by the by, when he gets on one of those, let me tell you, that’s a whole OTHER kodo caravan delivering all the other latters…although it’s also kind of sad when you actually look at the letters and it only really looks like there are like four different people’s handwriting, so…). So yeah. Let me just let the baby have his bottle, maybe go up to Northrend some weekend and choke down a salad, and make my life a little easier, at least until he figures out what a fucking idiot he is.
So, one last mail-related note before we finish up here. A couple weeks ago I mentioned in a post about Magatha Grimtotem that I had once written to her and explained part of the reason I was (still am) so enraged over her meddling with my duel with Cairne. I’ve gotten a couple passing inquiries about that, so I thought people might want a peek at what I’d said. This was the letter I sent her shortly after the duel – she and her Grimtotem stooges were trying to stage a takeover in Thunder Bluff, and for some asinine reason she actually thought I would be GRATEFUL to her for robbing me of my honor, and wrote to me asking for help against Baine’s forces. And so:
Unto Elder Crone Magatha of the Grimtotem,
Acting Warchief of the Horde, Garrosh Hellscream,
Sends his most sincere wishes for a slow and painful death.It has come to my attention that you have deprived me of a rightful kill. Cairne Bloodhoof was a hero to the Horde and an honorable member of a usually honorable race. It is with disgust and anger that I discover you have caused me to bring about his death through accidental treachery.
Such tactics may work well for your renegade, honorless tribe and Alliance scum, but I despise them. It was my wish to fight Cairne fairly, and win or lose by my own skill or lack of it. Now I shall never know, and the cry of traitor will dog my steps until such time as I can sport your head on a pike and point to you as the real traitor.
So…no. I will not be sending any truehearted orcs to fight alongside your treacherous, belly-crawling tribe. Your victory or your defeat is in the hands of your Earth Mother now. Either way, I look forward to hearing of your demise.
You are on your own, Magatha, as friendless and disliked as you have ever been. Perhaps more. Enjoy your loneliness.
So there you have it.
Anyway, we’ll be getting back to business this week. Mokvar’s got the transcript from Skarr’s interrogation written up, so I’ll be posting that for you all tomorrow, and we’ll have plenty to do this week in the aftermath.
Meanwhile, Mortimer’s still nursing a few injuries from his fight with the Razza last week, so he’s resting upstairs in his pen, and if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go heat up some soup for the furball. More soon.
Desolace postscript
Not too many letters this week, so I’m going to hold off on doing a mailbag. (Get with the program and get writing, people! Your Warchief commands it! garrosh1337@gmail.com)
Also, a quick note on my recent trip to Desolace. I think I mentioned at one point that I had a couple stops to make there, but I only ever really blogged about Shadowprey Village (annoying as that was). Before coming back to Orgrimmar, I also made a stop at Ghost Walker Post. I didn’t write anything about that at the time, partly because I was trying to save time for the trip back home, and partly because it was generally pretty uneventful. It was also a little depressing, so I really just didn’t want to dwell on it much, but it’s probably just as well for me to give it a quick write-up now. Better than dwelling on this Grimtotem business.
I’ve been out to Ghost Walker Post once before, and I have to admit, I always find the place pretty depressing in general. Not so much for the outpost itself, which is fine as far as outposts go, but because of the area right below it – the kodo graveyard. Go ahead and laugh if you want, but ever since I moved to Azeroth I’ve had kind of a soft spot for kodos (maybe they just remind me of my pet clefthoof from when I was a kid). So seeing the place where kodos go to die, with all the skeletons and corpses all around, that’s just a little more than I want to take most days.
At least the surrounding area is a little less depressing-looking these days. I know the Cataclysm brought water into the area to help feed the regrowth of vegetation, but even still, it’s pretty incredible to see the change. The whole area around the outpost has turned lush and green, and there’s even the beginnings of a forest starting up really quickly. The Cenarion people – hippie druids, yeah, but still less annoying than those DEHTA fuckers – have set up a base there at Karnum’s Glade, although I didn’t actually go over there, because, you know, druids. Still, I had to look around the new wildlands there, just because it really is a pretty amazing sight. Even when you figure in the new sources of water, it’s incredible that the place started recovering so quickly. It’s enough to make you wonder whether there’s something more going on there, beyond just the influx of water.
Which…yeah. Really have to wonder. I probably shouldn’t even mention this, because people are probably going to think I’m crazy, and it really honestly could be my imagination playing tricks on me. But at one point when I was looking around the wildlands, off in the distance, I could have sworn I could see the figure of a tauren – not fully solid, but partly transparent, even a little shimmery. Maybe it was just the light and the glare of the sun, I don’t know. But it’s not just that. If it were just a tauren it could have been anybody, and with all the druids around, not to mention Ghost Walker Post, there’s no shortage of tauren in the area. But I recognized him. I would know him anywhere. The stature, the totem always in hand…the steady gaze that always seemed to be sizing me up and coming away just disappointed enough.
It was Cairne. I swear on the spirits I thought I saw Cairne.
He looked at me, and he looked away, and just scanned around the wildlands like he was assessing his work. And then he was gone.
At least gone from view. I haven’t been able to get him out of my mind since.
Monday (yeah, yeah, okay, Tuesday) mailbag
Apologies for running late again this week. A Warchief’s work is never done, especially when the Warchief in question has lazy-ass minions who drag their feet about doing it.
So this week we’re hearing back from a couple correspondents who’ve turned up in the mailbag before, along with one surprise letter from an unlikely source, also from a familiar face. Let’s get started…
It’s your most ardent admirer herself, Uukra.
I would like to stress this: *I* am your most devout and ardent admirer, not some cupcake-eating wussie.
I bet they’re a mage and didn’t even cooked it themselves.
Besides, cupcakes will make them fat… unlike a fit, strong death knight (and certainly female!) orc like me.
Oh, and just so you know… I have been following your underwear suggestion. 😉
Your faithful fan & minion
–Uukra the Hallowed
Now see, the “certainly female” line there DOES make me worry…because if there’s one thing we’ve learned since I’ve been doing this blog, it’s that it’s TOTALLY possible for people to go online and pretend to be things they’re not! So now this makes for a whole new worry – what if these female admirers of mine aren’t actually girls? I suppose that might happen sometimes on the internet, right? Or maybe that’s still kind of a stretch, I don’t know…
Anyway, as it turns out, our old friend Wega (the cupcake eater from last mailbag) managed to sneak a look at my mail somehow, and already has a few choice words in response…
It seems that Uukra and I can agree on two things…your supreme awesomeness, and the fact that mages are wussies. The only thing more satisfying than seeing a mage crumple to the floor, is ambushing and one-shotting those D.E.H.T.A. punks.
I bet if she’s following your underwear suggestion, she also wears one of those barely-there plate bikinis that leaves her kidneys unprotected. Assuming she still HAS kidneys. Why would you want a cold, rotting thing that plays with ghouls when you could have a rogue like me? I’m not some half-orc like that tramp Garona, either.
Yours Always,
–Wega
So I’m totally with you on the mages, blinky buggers. And the DEHTA punks. I’m not going to get into the whole Garona thing, just because we can still use her help with Twilight’s Hammer, and let me tell you, she is SOME kind of moody. Like if I let one thing slip that she doesn’t like the sound of, hoo boy, just moping and bitching all day, and don’t even start me on all the passive aggressive bullshit, and how genuinely one of our best fighters can also be so damn whiny and high-maintenance is totally beyond me – oh crap, wait, I’m doing it again. She’s going to read this, and then she’ll be off to the races with the whiny. How do I erase this again? I can never find the right key. Hold up, this looks like a cross-out function, maybe that can erase stuff. SHIT THAT’S ONLY SLIGHTLY BETTER. UGH. SPAZZLE!
Anyway, um, on the up side, from this whole back and forth between Uukra and Wega here…well…
<gets popcorn and sits back>
Continue at will, ladies! (Sometimes it can be good to be Warchief. I should add this to the list.)
Speaking of getting mail from girls, though, here’s one more that came in addressed to Spazzle, but definitely deserves some attention from yours truly:
It has come to the attention of the House of Nobles of Stormwind that the Leader of the Horde, Warchief Garrosh Hellscream has a blog on WordPress as does our esteemed Head of the Alliance, His Majesty King Varian Wrynn [epic title withheld].
As the two are notorious for despising one another, we think it would be of great entertainment if the two could somehow be played off one another. Certainly if we make the Warchief and King aware of one another they may go ahead and link to one another’s blog anyway in efforts to defame the other. This could be a mutually beneficial relationship.
His Majesty’s blog can be found at http://varianwrynn.wordpress.com …
Warm Regards,
–The House of Nobles of Stormwind
Well consider me made aware, noble chumps! Hah! So Varian’s decided to start a blog too, huh? I WONDER WHERE HE GOT THAT IDEA. Hey, Varian, remember when you were writing in and making your snarky comments about me writing a blog? Huh? How’s that working out for you now? Hahah!
Anyway, though, since he’s decided to get into the blogging world, he definitely deserves a nice warm Horde-style welcome. So I’d definitely recommend all of you, my loyal readers and minions, drop by and say hello. A comment on one of his posts to let him know you’re there might be good. Tell him I sent you.
Now everyone say it with me:
Fuck you, Varian.
Quoth the Druid
Once upon a late night dreary,
As I pondered, weak and weary
After many – far too many –
Gaming hours sealed off aloof,
While I nodded, nearly napping
Suddenly there came a tapping
Like an o’erhead wyvern crapping
Crapping pellets on my roof.
“That’s no shitting wyvern,” said I,
“Casting crap upon my roof.
That’s just knocking, stupid goof.”
Yeah, I know, that was retarded
To think my roof had been bombarded
By some incontinent wyvern
Doing business as he’d soar.
But, you see, I was so sleepy,
And exhaustion had me weepy,
And the tapping knocks were creepy –
Creepy tapping at my door
So my sleepy brain went places
Places never gone before
Anyway, yeah, it’s the door.
Then I strode so very bravely
To the door and bellowed gravely,
“What the fuck, dude, have you never
Ever used your brain before?
Never mind the creepy tapping –
Shades of sounds of wyverns crapping –
Yeah, forget it – just recapping
How you knocked upon my door.
Never mind your oddball rapping
Freaked me out – I should be napping,
Having dreams of BG capping
(Just provided rogues aren’t sapping)
And of human spinal snapping,
Not to mention big game trapping,
To the wagon, carcass strapping,
Mount the head with hunters clapping,
Then I’ll do some vendor slapping,
Winter’s Veil and present wrapping,
Hear the sounds of brown wings flapping,
Shit, I’m back to wyverns crapping!
Fuck it! This whole part I’m scrapping.
(Yeah, I really need some napping.)
But, the knocking on my door:
Dude, the time – it’s half past four.
Look, I don’t know where you grew up,
Or what mess you’re here to brew up,
But I’ll tell you, dammit, this is
Not the hour to just drop by.
Wrists are sore and eyes are stinging,
Just two bubbles short of dinging,
So, believe me, you are clinging
To your last hope ere you die.
So what business are you bringing?”
Here no sound save crickets singing.
Silence. What’s the deal? Stand by.
“Listen up, dude, I’ve had enough.
Take a hike, and use a haste buff.
Otherwise, it’s late, so tell me
What you came here to discuss.
By all rights I should be sleeping,
But the weird hours that I’m keeping
Have saved you a heap of weeping
When you came to start a fuss.”
And at that, heroic leaping,
Flung the door wide open thus:
Holy fuck! Lather-on-us!
Just a moment was he standing,
Posture stern and face demanding,
And he said, “Hellscream, the wrath
Of DEHTA now shall you incur!”
That one really made me chuckle,
Then a feast of sandwich-knuckle
Flew at him – his knees did buckle
As in air he formed a blur.
All around my chamber flying
When by rights he should be dying!
All my grabs and swings defying
As my rage he dared to stir.
“What the fuck’s your problem!” crying
Out I chased the blasted cur.
Quoth the druid: “Mortimer.”
“Fucking bird!” I screamed as he fled.
“Fucking bird!” He pecked at my head
As he fluttered round the rafters
In the room – annoying, sure.
Swooping ’round, he did not tire.
“Fucking bird!” He hovered higher,
Just beyond my grasp entire,
On and on this did recur.
“Fucking bird!” (At least not fire.)
Flying feathered saboteur.
Quoth the druid: “Mortimer.”
“Yeah, but what about him, bastard?”
Flying nuisance flying faster.
“Fucking bird!” He dipped and dove
And pricked my side as if a burr.
Driven out onto the rampart,
“Fucking bird!” The pricks did restart.
Even though I got a head start
He was on my ass, yes sir.
Driven back into the railing,
Tired and drained, my strength was failing,
Hopelessly my weapon flailing –
Not the fate I would prefer.
“Fucking bird!” I kept on howling.
Then above there came a growling
As of some winged creature prowling,
Swooping down with claw and fur.
’Tis some diving bat or owling
Racing near as if a blur.
Eyes deceive me! Mortimer!
Lather-on-us squawked delighted,
With his ally reunited –
But his joy was quite shortsighted:
Not quite truth did he infer!
For the wyvern’s swooping anger
Loosed afresh from Kor’kron hangar
Was unleashed with piercing fang, er,
Fangs, I mean. (That’s plural, dur.)
And the druid’s damned demented
Diving dusky beak was dented
And his cries grew discontented
As a beating did occur.
Flapping wings of flutt’ring feathers
Slapped around by wyvern leather
As if saying, “Garrosh? Never!
You shall take your leave now, sir!”
Thought he had me? Yeah, whatever.
Some bad news I must confer.
Now go get ’im, Mortimer!
Now the druid’s stitched up, resting,
While my wyvern’s upstairs nesting,
In the attic pen I’d crafted
Where he makes contented purr.
Banes and bombs and birds fate may send,
Kor’kron guards may help to defend,
But above all, you can depend
On what nothing will deter.
Dog may be the human’s best friend –
For the orc? That’s Mortimer.
Off flight duty, that’s for sure.
EPIC VERSE!
Monday mailbag
Well, I asked for questions, and you all obliged! Let’s have a look at some of this week’s mailbag – actual letters from actual readers!
Me a peon who read your blog. Me like reading words of my great warchief! And now you ask to hear from peons like myself? This what makes warchiefs Garrosh and Thrall great leaders! Me thank you.
You ask for questions from peons. Me have a question me want to ask, but was too scared. Me ask it now though. What happened to your head? When you went to Northrend it look like any other orc head, now it look like your head too small or your jaw too big. Me think you wounded in glorious battle, but never heard story of how.
Also me would like nap break in afternoon but overseer beat me and make work more. Me can has nap break?
–A Tired Peon
First of all, someone remind me to up the Razor Hill education budget next year, before we get another generation of peons grimlocking their way through writing a letter.
Second of all, ATP, the head thing. Yeah, I know. Don’t think I don’t notice the way people stare at me when they drop by Grommash Hold – and for realsies, you’re not fooling anyone, people. Acting like you’re staring in another direction and then glancing over when you think I’m not going to see? Totally not working. So I guess I might as well answer this once and for all.
So I’d like to say this was from some epic battle in Northrend, like me squaring off with Arthas, or even Anub’arak, and maybe having him unleash one of those swarms of locusts on me and they buzzed all over me and crushed my head down or some shit like that. But the truth of the matter is, it wasn’t anything that exciting.
Those of you who were up there in Northrend with me will remember my last operation was at Light’s Hammer just inside the gates of Icecrown Citadel. You might also remember that I spent most of that time hanging out there with Tirion Fordring. Who I’d already had my fill of, by the way, when I went to meet him with Thrall at his stupid-ass tournament place. (Like seriously, isn’t ONE pansy-ass traveling fair enough for the world?) So hopefully you people were all too busy forging your way into the citadel and fighting our enemies like the Horde soldiers that you are…but meanwhile I was stuck back there with Tirion…who pretty much had nothing to do for a good long time but talk. And talk.
On.
And on.
And on.
Like really, do you have ANY idea how blabby he is? The preachiness was bad enough, having to sit there and listen to his EIGHT MILLION AND SEVEN spontaneous sermons to no one in particular about the power of the Light and the need to work together against a common foe, and blah blah blah. But then he started going on for hours on end about his crazy uncle Lucius who used to live down the block from Andorhal, and thought he was King Llane, and caught Deadeye burning down a dwarf settlement in Loch Modan and forced him to retreat by beating him at Parcheesi, until he finally went off the deep end and painted himself blue and spent all his time running around Tirisfal Glades naked chasing bats with a wooden spatula, until the Kirin Tor snapped him up and locked up away in some padded room in Dalaran just to keep him out of trouble for his own good, and now Tirion feels like my day just won’t be complete until he tells me what kind of marmalade he liked to put on his toast in the morning, and I just couldn’t fucking TAKE it anymore.
So I just clamped my hands down over my ears as tight as I could and hummed real loud, and I guess I didn’t know my own strength and got carried away, because the next thing you know I’ve managed to squeeze my own fucking head down a couple helmet sizes. So good job there, me. Fucking Tirion.
Of course I suppose two years of Noggenfogger shampoo didn’t help matters, but that’s a whole other thing.
Speaking of not knowing my own strength…
I’m a warrior in the service of the Horde. I do pretty well on the battlefield, but I feel as though I can do much better. Could you tell me how you became so incredibly strong? Do you have a workout regiment, or did you acquire your amazing might through constantly crushing the enemies of the Horde under your boot?
–Revga, Orgrimmar
All of the above, Revga, all of the above. There’s really no substitute for beating the living shit out of real, live foes. For one thing, you never know what they’re going to try next, so it keeps you on your toes. Plus, you can really push yourself if you can find some real grade-A enemies to take on. Here’s where I think I might have an unfair advantage over a lot of guys, since I grew up in Nagrand. While some of the Horde here in Azeroth get started killing boars and wolves and bats, I got to get my exercise fighting hand to hand with giant fucking gronn and whole villages of ogres.
Besides that, I do have a workout routine that works pretty well for me. First thing in the morning I run a hundred laps around Grommash Hold. While I’m going around I get some extra arm exercise in by slapping the fuck out of all the pansy-ass vendors just standing around doing nothing. Especially Ray’ma, because trolls sound extra funny when you slap them around. Then I drop by the meat vendor (once she’s regained consciousness) and pick up eight pounds of roast boar for my breakfast. Gotta maintain your strength, and the protein’s good for muscle, you know.
After that I jog up by the rear gate of Orgrimmar where we keep all the siege engines, find one that looks pretty stable, and bench press it. Nothing too major, just a couple hundred reps. Then I head over to the arena and spar with some of my Kor’kron personal guards for a couple hours. The ones that live get to keep their jobs.
By that point most days it’s around lunch time, so I put Gorehowl away, hop on a wyvern (MAYBE I’LL TAKE MORTIMER THIS TIME, DEHTA BITCHES – THAT’S RIGHT, I FOUND HIM!), and fly down to Un’goro Crater…taking the scenic route up through Hyjal and Felwood then down around Silithus and through Uldum, of course (BECAUSE MORTIMER NEEDS HIS FUCKING EXERCISE TOO). When I get there I find a couple devilsaurs, beat them to death with my bare hands, drag them over to Fire Plume Ridge, and hold them over the lava till they get a good sear. Then it’s lunch time. When I’m done I head over to the eastern cliff face to get some rock climbing in, and scale my way up into Tanaris. From that point I jog over to the shore and usually drop by the Caverns of Time, or as I like to call them, the Caverns of Did I Beat My Best Time. Right now I’m sitting on 34 seconds. BEAT IT IF YOU CAN. If you don’t believe me, just take it up with Anachronos, he’s usually the one holding the stopwatch, even if it’s kind of a funky-looking melty one. Anyway, from there I jog on over to the shore and get in my afternoon swim. Which in my case means I swim from Tanaris right on back up to Durotar.
So I know what you’re thinking at this point: Wait, Garrosh, you just said you had lunch a little while before this, plus it was devilsaur, and we all know how heavy that can be – isn’t it bad for you to go swimming a short time after you’ve eaten? And the answer is yes, yes it is….IF YOU’RE A GODDAMN FUCKING PANSY.
Once I make it back to Orgrimmar, it’s usually time for afternoon tea.
At that point I usually have some Warchief crap I have to take care of, so that’s about it for the workout. As you can tell, being this awesome is a full-time job. You don’t just get a body like mine for nothing. And speaking of taking an interest in my body…
Heyyyy mighty Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, you don’t know me I’m your biggest fan EVAH!!!
And I’m an orc, and a gal, so please answer me… what color panties do you prefer in a woman? *hint hint nudge nudge*
Your faithful fan & minion
–Uukra the Hallowed
You know, you’d be surprised how often I get questions like this. Like seriously, if it was ANYTHING like this for Thrall, I don’t know why the hell he would want to get married.
So, Uukra, to answer you. When you come right down to it, I’m basically a soldier at heart, so I’m going to put this to you in military terms. One word: commando. 😉
I mean, I know that’s how I roll.
Yes, you read that right. Soak up THAT mental image. You’re welcome.
Since you mentioned Jaina Proudmoore in your post about Thrall’s wedding, and I figure you must be in the know, I just have to ask about those two. You know what I’m talking about. Did Thrall ever, um, you know?
–Grimgore, Orgrimmar
Jaina? Oh, geez, dude, who HASN’T?
Other than Lor’themar. Obvious reasons.
That’s it for this week, but keep those letters and questions coming! YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS THEM!
Monday mailbag
Running a little late today, I know, but here’s a few of this week’s letters…
I hope this missive finds you well. Your delightful and inspiring blog was recently brought to my attention, and I felt compelled to write to express my deepest appreciation. I can see now why Thrall so wisely saw fit to appoint you as his successor. With such a keen intellect at the helm, I have little doubt that we shall prevail against our foes.
I am particularly touched by your recent comments on my defense of Silvermoon. While I am saddened to see that you still harbor reservations about my loyalty and commitment, I can assure you that the good of the Horde is forefront in my thoughts, and further assure – nay, stress – that no further…shall we say…indiscretions are forthcoming. I cannot, in fact, emphasize this point enough. There is truly nothing for you to concern yourself with, and, as such, I can further assure you that there is no need for you to waste valuable time checking up on the goings-on in, say, Silverpine Forest or Gilneas. With so many Horde outposts in need of your sage attention, it would pain me to know that we Forsaken were needlessly occupying your valuable time. So, once again, no need to visit Silverpine. Really. Don’t you worry your dear, most interestingly proportioned head over it.
Also, loathe though I am to impose upon the Warchief’s attention, might I request, at your next opportunity, that you have a word or two with the most honorable Captain Bloodfist, of the Kor’kron detachment generously assigned to aid in the defense of my beloved Undercity? Skillful military tactician though I’m sure he is, I cannot help but notice over these past several months that he persists in…looking at me. In…ways that are starting to make me feel rather uncomfortable.
–Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Undercity
Oh crap, I think I’m about to have more forms to fill out.
Although…I mean, seriously, do you ever look at the way you dress?
Anyway. It’s nice to see Sylvanas coming around a little. Like I said a couple weeks ago, I really did have my doubts about her, but it really seems like she’s pulling herself together these days. Nice to know I don’t have to worry too much about her, it’s not like I don’t have enough on my mind already these days.
HAHAHA! That’s it, laddy, put them DEHTA pantywaists in their place! Ye know, they keep tellin’ all their recruits they’re me archenemy. At least that’s what they say – I haven’t seen ’em dare come near me themselves! But at least they talk a good game. Ye notice, though, they keep tryin’ to recruit people to run errands for them, but they still only have six members, so good on ye, lads, fine job retainin’ yer recruits!
If any of ye DEHTA types are readin’ this, I’ll raise me stein and have a drink to yer health…and use it to wash down the goodly feast of assorted Northrend meats I went out and killed fresh today! Ye know where to find me if ye ever grow a pair!
–Hemet Nesingwary, Sholazar Basin
I don’t really have a lot to say here. This just made me happy! Good to hear from you, Hemet, it’s been a while! For anyone who doesn’t know, Hemet used to hang out in Nagrand, so I used to go hunting with him sometimes. Hey Hemet, remember that time we were hunting Banthar, and that damn Durn the Hungerer came sneaking up behind us? Like how does he DO that anyway? How does a 50 foot tall giant gronn just SNEAK UP on you like that??
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
Seriously? Clefthoof stew? And not only ENCOURAGING people to eat clefthoof stew, when there are many far healthier, less murder-requiring dietary options available, but GLORYING in your choice to make such food out of a CRUELLY BETRAYED friend and companion of your childhood?
You really are determined to evoke the wrath of D.E.H.T.A., aren’t you?
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Oh no. THE WRATH OF DEHTA! WHAT-EVER WILL I DO. Hey, news flash, Lather-on-us, the whole time I was up there in Northrend, there was only one person whose “wrath” I ever concerned myself with at all, and guess what, it wasn’t you, or any of your whiny druid friends.
I already wasted enough time on you guys last week, but looks like Hemet might have a few choice words for you. YOU REMEMBER HIM, RIGHT? THE ARCHENEMY you guys were going to PUT IN HIS PLACE, and you sure as hell did, provided by “in his place” you meant “at the dinner table, feasting on a spread of barbecued, stewed, and roasted shoveltusk, woolly rhino, mammoth, and worg.” Yum!
I know you be tinkin’ I be supportin’ you as my replacement as Warchief, but I really only gave ya da job to prove to you an’ everybody what a failure you’d be at it. Ever since you came to Orgrimmar you been actin’ like you be knowin’ how to run tings better dan me, so I figured I be givin’ you enough rope to hang yourself. Not to mention dis way when I come back everybody will be so happy to be rid of you dat dey’ll tink I’m even more of a hero. Like seriously mon, you got no idea how much all de other leaders be missin’ me. After you, all I’ll have to do is walk in a straight line without droolin’ on meself an’ it’ll be an improvement, mon. P.S. You smell.
—Bob Trall, Echo Isles
WHAT!!! OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THRALL WOULD SAY THAT WTF!!!! And WTF is he doing in the Echo Isles I thought he was supposed to be in the Maelstrom or Mount Hyjal or wherever the fuck he is that’s not here!!!
AND I DO NOT SMELL WTF!!!
Monday mailbag
So let’s see what the mail has for us this week…
Not only is King Mrgl-Mrgl of the Winterfin murlocs a dangerous radical, but I be hearin’ he not even be a native-born Winterfin! And he be rulin’ da Winterfin! Join our movement to demand he be releasin’ his birth records! Demand da trut’, mon!
–Bob, Echo Isles
OMG I KNEW SOMETHING DIDN’T ADD UP ABOUT THAT GUY!!! I remember running into him when I was still stationed out in the Borean Tundra. He was always dropping by asking if we had any soy burgers, whatever the hell that was. I was like, dude, why can’t you just eat fish and stuff like the other murlocs, and he got all huffy and gave me attitude. So I slapped him around a little and send him home. Still, he was just weird, you know? Like with most murlocs you’d be lucky to get anything out of them other than “burglemurgleflurglegurglecrap,” and this fucker’s blabbering on about “indigenous” and “ecosystems” and shit. And fuck, if I have to listen to crap that I don’t know what it means, at least let it be crap that doesn’t make me feel fucking stupid on top of it all.
So, yeah, Bob, I think you might be on to something about the fucker. Where do you figure murlocs keep records like that? Probably some little island somewhere where they’re gonna fucking stonewall us on getting the forms released, just you watch. Fucking murloc spin operation.
As your loyal emissaries, to wit, etc., it is our honor to report our arrival as per your instructions in Stonetalon Mountains, Krom’gar Fortress et al. Overlord Krom’gar is pleased to hear of word that notice has been sent of your commandership’s pending visit, we are sure Your Warchiefness will be impressed by the inconceivable might of the forces amassed heretofore as per your indulgency. It is most hoped that Your Hellscreamingestness will pardon the crudeness of our missiving as we are but humble orcs, but Utvoch has been taking an extension course in diplomatic writing so we hope we’ve been able to shape our note into inconceivable due reverentness.
–Sgt. Dontrag and Scout Utvoch, Stonetalon Mountains
Okay, first of all, I don’t think that word means what you think it means, but whatever. Second, I don’t know who’s teaching this class Utvoch is taking, but whoever it is I’m thinking you need to tone it way way way the fuck DOWN, okay? Like seriously. HEAD HURTS. But anyway, I’m glad things are shaping up in Stonetalon. I know the Overlord’s mostly focusing on the Alliance incursion in the area, but make sure we’re also keeping the Grimtotem problems under control down south. The last thing I want to see is those fuckers getting a chance to come up for air.
Fucking geez, though, it took two of them to write that piece of shit? I swear, I know I might not be the biggest genius ever to come out of Garadar or anything, but seriously the internet makes me feel like a fucking brainiac sometimes. Oh wait, fuck, they’re going to see that, where’s that fucking erase button again? SPAZZLE!
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
We at D.E.H.T.A. have received reports indicating that you are indeed waging a most CRUEL and DESPICABLE war – a war waged against the poor, defenseless animals who SUFFER under your regime. In particular, you have committed the following ATROCITIES against Wyverns and Hippogryphs, two NOBLE winged citizens of the air who surely deserve RESPECT and CARE from an earthbound creature (or dare I say, mud-bound creature) such as yourself:
1. You enslave these lofty souls and force them to bear your burdens, ferrying troops and cargo for YOUR benefit, not theirs;
2. These creatures – of an intellect far surpassing your own, I’d wager – are forced to endure long, TEDIOUS hours of flying the same routes over and over again without variation, or sufficient rest;
3. You ENDANGER their lives by strapping explosives to their backs and sending them into battle where they could be INJURED or KILLED;
4. When they grow weary and tire of these exertions you have them BEATEN within an inch of their lives, showing NO compassion or regard for the services they have rendered to you;
5. You then have the AUDACITY to boast about the maltreatment you have inflicted upon those in your care by posting about it on your so-called “blog”;
6. You make JOKES about “crippled” animals, without regard for how such jokes inflict emotional PAIN and SUFFERING on those differently-abled animals who read your insensitive comments.
Your crimes cannot be allowed to continue!
I have discovered the identity of the Wyvern that you had so callously beaten and sentenced to the Winterspring-Silithus flight path! As you read this message, said Wyvern has been liberated! Members of D.E.H.T.A. have secured the Wyvern – hereafter referred to by his NAME, because he has a NAME, which is MORTIMER – and are moving Mortimer to an UNDISCLOSED LOCATION, where Mortimer will be safe from you and your Horde thugs!
In addition, we also have the following DEMANDS:
1. All Wyverns, Bats, Dragonhawks, etc that are currently serving as “taxis” for the Horde must be RELEASED IMMEDIATELY!
2. Any creature currently in service in the Horde’s army or being used as a mount must be IMMEDIATELY DISCHARGED.
3. If any animal wishes to re-enlist in the Horde’s army or apply for a job ferrying persons or goods it must be offered fair wages, sufficient periods of rest, and full medical/dental insurance, as outlined by the Animal Worker’s Union. (The Animal Worker’s Union is a new initiative by D.E.H.T.A. Details forthcoming, watch your mailbox!)
4. All Horde children will be required to read D.E.H.T.A.’s new pamphlet, “Becoming a Druid: How I can have a fulfilling career while being self-sufficient and able to fly MYSELF around”.
Until you acquiesce to our demands, we will continue to picket your flight points and liberate your “taxis”! (As there are currently six members of D.E.H.T.A. we anticipate that this will be a huge disruption of flight service!)
Best wishes,
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Oh crap, here we go.
Look, Lather-on-us, how many times do we have to go through this shit? It’s the same song and dance every time. You dig up some nit-picky complaint about something I’m doing with some animals, wah wah wah, bitch and moan, insert crying like a little girl here, blah blah, skip ahead to me not giving a fuck. Then you start picketing, and then I have some of my mages cast blizzard on your asses, and then you go skittering away because you can’t stand the cold. HEY I HAVE AN IDEA, maybe a fur coat would help with that? OH FUCK I FORGOT, SNAP!
But hey, you obviously put a lot of time and effort into your “demands” there, even though, you know, you’re not in much of a position to demand anything, seeing as I have about 8000 soldiers on hand here who could beat the snot out of any one of you DEHTA asshats. Hell, never mind the soldiers, I’ve got like fifty personal guards who could smack down any two of you. You know what, fuck that, I’ve got half a dozen food tasters who could mop up the floor with the whole lot of you at once. So yeah, not really shaking in my sabatons over the whole “demand” thing, so how about we call them polite requests.
So since you DID put a lot of time and effort (and WORDS, let’s not forget ALL THE FUCKING WORDS) into your requests, here, let me offer a counter-proposal:
1. All wyverns will be released from flight point duty, ON THE CONDITION that DEHTA members make their flight-form-having asses available to carry my citizens around Horde territories as needed, because guess what, hippies, if you mean business about making life easier for the damn animals YOU CAN PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS ARE. How’s that sound? You and the rest of your crazy-ass druid friends just step on up and make sure our air-taxi needs are covered, and hey, you know what, as long as the six of you can stay on top of all the flight demand, those beloved wyverns of yours don’t have to so much as flap a wing. Hey, you know, come to think of it, I’ll even release them into a bunch of wyvern play ranches, and set those up right along all the flight routes, so you pansies can look down and enjoy the sight off all those happy wyverns that you’re making possible. Bet that’ll make those aching wings of yours a whole lot easier to bear, right?
2. But we can’t leave out the kodos and worgs and raptors, now can we? NO WAY. And I’m sure you guys will be only too happy to provide a happier life for those animals too, and don’t you worry, I’m already on the motherfucker. I’ve got my goblins working RIGHT THIS MINUTE on a whole fucking fleet of bear- and panther-friendly rickshaws. They tell me they should have the first six ready to go within a couple days, so you don’t even have to fucking WAIT to make life easier for all those pack animals. AREN’T YOU FUCKING LUCKY!
3. The Horde will donate an enormous pile of cloth to DEHTA, to be used to make some more suitable gear for your members, since I know you guys can’t wear mail or plate armor like grown-ups, and from what I hear druids normally wear leather, BUT WE ALL KNOW YOU WOULD NEVER WALK AROUND DRAPED IN MURDER, and we can’t have a bunch of naked druids wandering around catching their fucking death of cold, so I guess cloth it is! Armor specialization bonuses be damned! And hey, don’t feel like you’re putting us out at all, quite frankly we’ve had these little up-and-coming wannabe adventurers dropping off mountains of the stuff in every capital city for years now, and after the first couple months nobody’s known what to do with the shit, only no one’s had the heart to tell the little noobs they’re beating a dead horse (FIGURE OF SPEECH, FIGURE OF SPEECH, KEEP YOUR PANTIES ON), and seriously you can only make so many fucking band-aids.
4. To show my support of your fine organization and help finance your noble efforts, I will personally fund and arrange a fundraiser – the first annual DEHTA-benefit all-you-can-eat hippogryph barbeque. You can hold me to this: EVERY LAST COPPER WILL GO STRAIGHT INTO THE COFFERS OF DEHTA – so eat up, bitches, the more tasty marinated hippogryph wings we choke down, the brighter the future of DEHTA. TELL YOUR FRIENDS, THANK ME LATER!
5. Horde children will receive your DEHTA pamphlet, ALONG WITH my own supplementary booklet, “Garrosh’s 12-Step Guide to Keeping the Fucking Sand Out of Your Vagina, Even if You Happen to be a Night Elf.” AVAILABLE NOW ON RANDOM TABLETOPS AND BOOKSHELVES THROUGHOUT AZEROTH!
6. All DEHTA members will receive a formal invitation from the Warchief of the Horde to SUCK IT and STFU.
Are we done?
Visiting Ashenvale
The inspection visits to Ashenvale have been a mixed bag so far.
On the plus side, we’re bombing the shit out of Astranaar, and watching stuff blow up is always fun. I even got to ride a wyvern and drop a few bombs myself, which let me tell you, was fun as all fuck. I went around three times – BOOM! I wanted to do more, but apparently the fucking wyvern was getting tired, so I had my guards beat it and tell it to quit being a such a pussy. Then I reassigned it to flight point duty and put it on the Winterspring-to-Silithus round trip. THAT SHOULD TOUGHEN IT UP. (Shit, this is going to get the DEHTA fuckers going again, isn’t it?)
I wanted to have them blow something up while I as there and then have Mokvar draw me walking away looking all unimpressed, because you look way cooler when you don’t even bother looking at an explosion, but Mokvar said he couldn’t draw, which was really fucking inconvenient, so I sent him back to Orgrimmar and told him to start milling inks and not leave until he’d gotten trained up. I’m not going to have lackeys riding around with me who can’t be bothered maxing up the necessary skills. LIKE HE HAS ANYTHING MORE IMPORTANT TO DO THESE DAYS.
On the down side, what the FUCK is going on with Splintertree Post? We used to have a pretty secure holding, and now we’re under siege by a bunch of fucking giant orange TREES? The hell?! Dammit, I’m all for advancing the battle onto fronts like Astranaar, but that doesn’t mean you get so preoccupied you let the stupid elves roll up on your original base! Oh and never mind the whole Durak business – yeah, let’s let the demons who nearly destroyed our whole race PLANT ONE OF THEIR OWN RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF OUR OUTPOST. Who the fuck is in charge out there anyway? They always say incompetence starts at the top…
By the way, I never thought I’d say this, but going around in these night elf forests is starting to make me think maybe the blood elves are actually the tough side of the family. I mean, yeah, they’re scrawny and prance around way too much for my liking – trust me, I know, the last thing Thrall did before skipping town was stick me with a whole delegation of them hanging out right in my fucking throne room, and don’t think for one minute that Thrall didn’t laugh his ass off all the way to the Maelstrom over that one – and yeah, the whole sunshiny enchanted woods they have in Eversong isn’t helping matters. But shit, look around this place, and it’s like these night elves felt the need to fucking dip everything in glitter.
I still need to check in at the new fortifications at Zoram’gar, but first I need to make one side trip. More later.
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
It would have been nice if he’d told me this before
Okay so apparently you CAN go back and erase stuff on this stupid machine. Spazzle came over and showed me the button I’m supposed to use so I’m going to try it and see if it works. So let me write something and erase it and see if he’s telling me the truth or if I have to go colossus smash his fucking head in and then execute a couple dozen goblins to make an example of them.
So here goes:
Okay, so could you read that part about the crippled hippogryph? I think I got that right so you shouldn’t have been able to see the thing about the crippled hippogryph. I sure hope so because the last thing I fucking need at this point is the fucking DEHTA people being a pain in the ass, it’s bad enough having to put up with the stupid hippie druids over in the Valley of Wisdom much less having to pretend like Malfurion Whatshisface is our buddy now just because Thrall says he’s supposed to be keeping some elemental guy from burning everything down. Like the place has been in such great shape anyway the last few months, nice job there, Antlers McBeardyface.
Anyway, hopefully I got the erase thing down, I guess we’ll see in a minute after I post this. I swear if Spazzle is lying to me and I get those DEHTA fuckers picketing Grommash Hold again I’m going to rend him like there’s no tomorrow.
More later. FOR THE HORDE!
