Tag Archives: demon fall canyon
Further tourist destinations
So while I’m making my way down to Pandaria again (I’M ON A BOAT, MOTHERFUCKERS), I went ahead and loaded up the blog with a couple goodies, not least of all being this, the final installment (OR IS IT?) (probably but you never know) of GARROSH’S POETRY CHALLENGE.
For those of you coming late to the party, or who’ve had maybe some sort of head trauma (for some reason, Dontrag and Utvoch come to mind, which is unfortunate, partly because it’s ALWAYS unfortunate when you think about Dontrag and Utvoch, but also because something seems inherently wrong about any sentence that includes “Dontrag and Utvoch” and “mind”) and so you’re severely prone to forgetting shit, I’ve been commemorating National Poetry Month by inviting all of you, MY LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS, to write your own original poems. You send in poems, I write my own in response, you get shown up by my brilliance, you cry, I win. In other words, Thursday.
So, on to today’s guest poet — namely, our old friend Sarlin. Let’s get right to it…
Rainforests sprinkled in glitter
Horde posts and dead Night Elf litter
Demons, ghosts and cans of fel
Old Gods and Ghamoo-ra’s shell
Twilight’s Hammer plus ten punts
Brainless orcs, one scout, ten grunts
Draka with an extra “a”
Warlocks with plots to betray
Throwing stars and soaring glaives
Slice wooden shields and silly staves
Demolishers spitting out their skill
And rare spawns that the Horde can’t kill
Spider rogues, like we don’t already flee them
But now they stealth, so you can’t SEE them
Wolves and foxes and walking pus
And giant trees that throw stuff at us
Sounds bearable, if you’re asking me.
We’ll be out of here at level thirty
Long enough to earn your wail and flail
Welcome, Horde, to Ashenvale
Well, I’ll give her this much — she managed not to blurt out one of those multi-volume saga poems. I was really bracing myself for something like 300 stanzas of fifteen lines each. But no, she managed to keep herself reined in, and not embarrass herself too severely in the process. Maybe I should make her communicate in rhyme more often — seems like it forces her to be a lot more concise.
She DID wind up leaving out a few things in her tour of Ashenvale, though. Here, I’ll fix that…
Listen now while I’m detailing
Ins and outs of Ashenvaling.
Come and batter; foes will scatter;
Plus you’ll escape Barrens chatter.
Sleepy words of night elf slumber;
Glitter coating Warsong lumber.
Magnataur fight for the Horde might —
Meh, back to the drawing board, right?
Wyverns soaring, bombs downpouring,
Battle lines are tug-of-warring;
Hopes are stark in battles sparkin’;
Morons think they’re still with Tarkan.
Furbolgs’ mischief that they wish up.
(These ones don’t call me Archbishop.)
Dragons guard a nightmare portal.
(Used to prove you weren’t immortal.)
But one site to be saluted,
Scene of triumph undisputed:
Dark-skied canyon we know well
Where Grommash stood and demons fell.
Next zone’s not for the fainthearted;
Stonetalon: don’t get me started.
Things are better there — don’t bristle —
Ever since Krom’gar’s dismissal.
EPIC VERSE!
There you go. That’s more like it. Everything you ever wanted to know about Ashenvale, and probably a few things you didn’t, with maybe two or three things you didn’t give a shit about thrown in as a chaser.
So, that does it for this year’s poetry challenge. Unless maybe I decide to toss some bonus goodies up here before the month completely runs out. Either way, congratulations to everyone who was HONORED BEYOND THEIR WILDEST DREAMS by being included, and thanks to everyone who submitted. And a big fat WHY THE FUCK NOT? to everyone who didn’t. Lazy fuckers.
Well, even though poetry month is winding down, you jokers still have a chance to show you’re not COMPLETELY lazy and useless. We’ve got a brand spanking new mailbag coming up in short order, so if you’re one of those clowns who couldn’t be bothered to participate in my GENEROUS ATTEMPT TO BRING SOME DAMN CULTURE TO YOU SLOBS, well, you better get off your ass and scrape together a letter. HEY, LOOK, SLACKERS — IT DOESN’T EVEN HAVE TO RHYME OR ANYTHING.
There you go. You know the drill — e-mail link up top on the right, form below. Get on it. More soon.
Lineage
Everything’s in order for me to head back to Pandaria to check on things down there. Mokvar’s coming along this time so he can test out his theory about using his crystal thingy to control the sha. Meanwhile, I need to head over to the Isle of Giants with General Nazgrim and make sure he and his people don’t make any more of a comedy show of their whole dino-taming operation than they already have. Plus, I need to reconnect with that Elder Cloudfall guy over at Tian Monastery. We have some unfinished business to tend to that got put on the shelf for way too long.
We’re leaving in the morning. But before that happens, speaking of unfinished business, first I have a promise to keep. To tell a pretty long story.
* Long-time readers will remember the Mother’s Day arc, in which Garrosh was reunited with his long-lost mother, Lakkara, whom he brought to Demon Fall Canyon to visit Grom’s burial site. No further spoilers for those who might like to go back and reread that story, but suffice to say Lakkara was not exactly what she seemed. (And, before someone asks, yes, I know that Lords of War established that Garrosh’s mother was named Golka, but blog continuity still recognizes Lakkara as Garrosh’s mother. Just roll with it for now — there is A Plan.™ I promise it’ll all make sense eventually.)
LIVE BLOG: Ask Garrosh Anything!
Here we go! As promised a few days ago, tonight the Warchief of the Horde (current or former, depending on how you count, because timey-whimey), Garrosh Hellscream, will answer any questions you’d care to throw at him! If you can see this post, then the floor is now open for questions. You can submit your question to the Warchief through any number of means: as a comment on this post, an e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com, a tweet to @GarroshHllscrm, an inquiry posted to Ask.fm, or a message through Garrosh’s Facebook or Google+ (feel free to add him on any and all of these, by the way!).
As I’ve noted before, there are a few simple ground rules for questions:
- No spoilers! Garrosh’s blog incarnation is currently living out the events of the Patch 5.2 timeframe. If you’d like to include some sort of comical nod or foreshadowing toward future events in your question, feel free! But questions explicitly referencing events that have not yet occurred in the blog will not be answered.
- No anonymous questions will be answered. You can submit your question under your in-game character name, a blogging pseudonym, a Twitter handle, whatever, but there must be an author to whom your question can be attributed.
- This should probably go without saying, but no questions will be answered that are clearly engaged in harassing, trolling (not you, Bob), antagonizing, or generally disregarding the fun intentions of the endeavor. Questions that seem to disregard, willfully or accidentally, the fundamental premises of the blog (check here for the basics, here if you’re feeling ambitious) will either be ignored or, perhaps, answered in a…derisive manner.
How it works: The live blog proper will begin at 8:30 PM EST (give or take a few minutes). All questions will be added to this post. Refresh this page periodically to check for updates! I expect some responses will come quickly, while others may take a little longer, depending on what sort of response is called for.
While I will never alter the substance of your question, I reserve the right to make minor edits to correct errors (i.e., you refer to Spazzle when you clearly mean Gurtash) or to delete something spoiler-ish from an otherwise good question.
I plan to keep going for as long as I have questions that I think will be interesting and entertaining to answer, so keep them coming! While I plan to try to answer as many questions as possible, I make no guarantee or promise that any individual question will get a response (i.e., I reserve the right to pick and choose which one I answer). When the blog is finished for the night, Garrosh will explicitly announce that, so if there hasn’t been a “Good night, everyone!” type of statement, you can assume there’s still more on the way.
So, with all the quasi-legal technicalities out of the way… Get to it! Ask away! Answers to begin once ol’ you-know-who makes his glorious arrival…
* * * * *
HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Brace your mind and hold on to your ass, because it’s time for yours truly, the one-and-only GARROSH HELLSCREAM, to answer ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU WERE AFRAID TO ASK. Except I guess you weren’t. Because you asked them. SO NICE JOB NOT BEING A BUNCH OF FUCKING PANSIES RIGHT OUT THE GATE.
Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here. Keep ’em coming as you think of ’em…
What do you consider your biggest non-combat achievement? –Zugzug
There are non-combat achievements?
I kid, I kid. Well, not really. But whatever, I should still come up with a kinda-real answer.
You probably wouldn’t see this achievement coming, but: First runner-up in the seventh annual Garadar chili cook-off. Which was amended to first place after… well, something unfortunate happened to original-winner Grok’nar. (My best to his widow.) (And I do mean my best.)
See, this might come as a surprise, but your Warchief isn’t half bad as a cook. As a matter of fact, one of the things I had to get used to when I became Warchief was having OTHER people cooking for me. I was never used to having other people serving me. Just felt weird. Still does. Even up in Northrend, I usually chipped in on odd chores around Warsong Hold if I didn’t have more urgent things to do — as much as I was tough on the troops up on there, I think it was kinda good for morale for them to see I didn’t think I was too good to get my hands dirty with the stuff I was asking them to do. Anyway, every so often I would sneak into the kitchen and help them whip up a few things, even then. I actually found it pretty relaxing. Well, except for Saurfang and his damn picky menu. No pork my ass.
Warchief Garrosh Hellscream,
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible, killing my son, forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks, it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number, has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned – and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing, according to my informants (who shall remain nameless). In short, she has revealed herself to be an enemy of the Alliance and a liability to the Horde, of wich you are warchief.
So my question is: What are you going to DO about her?!
With all due respect,
–Genn Graymane, King of Gilneas
Does anyone smell wet dog in here, or is it just me?
Oh, wait, it’s Genn. He must have picked up that stink from hanging around Varian all day.
Anyway. Let’s take this a little at a time:
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible,
Sounds like a good start.
killing my son,
That’ll teach him to keep his guard up.
forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage
Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks,
Not seeing a problem so far.
it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number,
Your grasp of current events as of like eight years ago is impeccable.
has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned –
The WHAT you say?
and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing,
Holy fucking shit, is THAT where that motherfucker went?!
according to my informants (who shall remain nameless).
I… okay, hang on. Here’s where you’re starting to chase your tail. So to speak. Okay, so you’re telling me, SOME PEOPLE, who YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHO THEY ARE OR HOW THEY KNOW THIS SHIT, BUT OH BOY BELIEVE ME, THEY SURE KNOW WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT, these people tell you blah blah blah Sylvanas? And so…you’re asking me, what, if I’m going to lay the smackdown on her or something? And, say, go attack the Forsaken or some shit, who by COMPLETE COINCIDENCE happen to be the same people who KICKED YOUR ASS, only now I’m going to go after them because OH NO YOU DON’T LIKE SYLVANAS?
Well, get in line, chief. Nobody likes Sylvanas. Other the people who are already dead, but that’s their damage. And for real, I’m not going to break off one chunk of the Horde and go stage, what? a civil war or some shit against ANOTHER major part of the Horde, just because I think their leader’s kind of a jerk.
Come on, who’s going to be a big enough asshat to play THAT card?
Do you have a sure fire cure for head aches? –Toka
The only one I’ve found that works pretty consistently is that once Dontrag and Utvoch get going with their damn yammering, and going on and on about whatever the fuck they’re saying, and the headache starts kicking in, you watch them pretty close — I know it might hurt your eyes a little at first, but hang in there, you’ve gotta push through that part — and then when you see them position themselves good and close, you reach over and smack their heads together good and hard. I can’t stress this enough: you can’t be shy about really putting a good CRACK into cracking them together. Then, worst case scenario, they’ll usually shut up for a little while, or better yet at least one of them will lose consciousness for at least an hour or two. Plus when they come to, seems like they end up suffering some really killer headaches themselves, which, you know, poetic justice. SMACKED DOWN BY IRONY, BITCHES.
Of course, if your particular headaches aren’t D&U related, I don’t know what to tell you. <shrug>
Do you believe in ghosts? —@RuekieShaman
I… Hang on.
You’re asking me…if I believe in ghosts?
Rook, what planet do you live on? We have an entire fucking FACTION of the Horde that keeps ghosts around as fucking bankers and shit. Every been to Stratholme? Scholomance? Like fifteen other places I can think of right off the top of my head? Dude, I had the ghost of my MOM following me around for a few weeks like a year ago! Where have YOU been?
So you know what? Let me see your “do you believe in ghosts?” question and raise you this one:
Do you believe in goblins?
What do you do to relax? –LazyPeon
Well, let’s see. Writing the ol’ EPIC VERSE can be a good way to unwind, unless I write myself into one of those corners where there’s something I want to say but I can’t come up with something that rhymes with “orange,” because who the fuck had the bright idea to invent a word that like NOTHING rhymes with. And when I have a little down time between meetings and missions of conquest and, you know, tax audits and shit, back when I was starting as Warchief, I used to sneak in a few games of cribbage with Eitrigg. Only that old guy was way too good at that game, so he usually won, and that wasn’t exactly so great for my mood. Lately I’ve been trying to teach Malkorok how to play, but I mean, he’s good at his job and all but overall he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and so I end up having to repeat myself a lot, and re-explain things, and that pisses me off a lot, too. Pretty much the only thing I can think of that I found consistently relaxing, actually, was doing some barbecuing, or whipping up a big pot of something, but like I was saying a few questions ago, since becoming Warchief I haven’t had that much of a chance to do much cooking myself. So there goes that one.
Um. So I guess the point is that apparently I have a pretty fucking stressful life. Thanks for reminding me, peon. Fuck.
What are you going to do when Shay wants to date? What if it is the Black Prince? Or Prince Anduin? –Zugzug
I…
…
DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT SHIT
ESPECIALLY THE LAST PART OF THAT SHIT
WHICH IS SHITTY SHIT EVEN BY SHIT STANDARDS HOLY SHIT
…
The fuck is WRONG with you people coming up with this stuff?!
So…excuse me a minute. I think I need to go sharpen Gorehowl.
[OOC aside, because I love to tease: There is an upcoming comic, already written and partially sketched out, involving Shayari bringing a prospective boyfriend to meet Garrosh. Yes, really.]
Out of sheer curiosity, any other pastry loves *besides* lemon squares? —Aranya Ver’sarn
Lime squares. A pale imitation, but they’ll do in a pinch.
I have also been known on occasion to pick up one of those giant chocolate chip cookies and spend the afternoon strolling around Orgrimmar munching while I’m doing my business. One of my prouder moments, actually, was one time when I was doing that, and D and/or U, whoever the fuck because who even cares enough to remember, started bugging me about that shit, and I actually managed to knock him out by smacking him over the head WITH the giant cookie.
So, you know, that’s…wait for it…the way the cookie crumbles. (THAT’S RIGHT, GARROSH GOT JOKES)
Has anyone turned down your lemon squares, and did they survive it? How successful were they among the draenai ladies? —@SintraEdrien
You know, I don’t usually get in the habit of running around OFFERING the lemon squares. People are much more likely to come rolling up on me ASKING for them, especially since word about them leaked onto the internet, and from that point, hoo boy, every motherfucker with an Azeroth Online account figured they could just hit me up for a sample, because when you make the internet easy enough for any fuckhead to use, every fuckhead will.
Where was I?
But…no. I can’t think of anyone who ever turned down the lemon squares. Even with as much fail as I have surrounding me in a usual day at the office, even THOSE failures don’t fail enough to fail to notice the lemony awesomeness of Greatmother’s recipe. I would guess if they did they would pretty definitely find a way to screw up their chances with the draenei girls. I, on the other hand, rarely have problems when I offer some sweets to the ladies, draenei or otherwise, seeing as, y’know, #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh.
Hang on. Is Shay reading this? Where’s that delete key again? SPAZZLE!
How much do you weigh? –Jordyn
7’2″, 340 lbs. of pure muscle.
And bone.
And sinew.
And…internal…body part…um… organs and… kidney stones…erm… YOU GET THE POINT.
As a leader, what are the toughest decisions you have to make? Lok’tar Ogar —@DonnerB123
The toughest ones, no surprise, are the biggest ones. Which pretty much come down to decisions of life and death. Like…literally, who to kill and who not to kill. Really brief cases in point: there was that time a was back (and some of you people might not even have been reading here when this was going on, which raises the question WHY THE FUCK NOT), when me and Mokvar and a few others were trapped in this alternate timeline where Dranosh Saurfang was still alive…only pretty much the only way for us to save the Horde was for me to pretty much kill him. On the other hand… every day, here in Orgrimmar, I’m surrounded by the Dontrags and Utvochs and Lor’themars and whoever the fuck elses, one annoying fucker after another griping about nuisance after nuisance…and I have to decide NOT to kill them. Because reasons. I guess.
We live in an imperfect world, DonnerB123. An ugly, imperfect world.
So . . . I simply can’t seem to get the hang of this: Is it Dontvoch and Utrag, or Dontut and Vochtrag? My head hurts . . . —@SintraEdrien
Nobody knows, Sintra. Nobody fucking knows.
Would you ever want to return to Nagrand? —@Malkorok_
Oh, hey, Malk. Taking a break from reading that Cribbage for Fucking Idiots guide I gave you, huh?
Anyway… Would I want to return to Nagrand, like to visit? Sure. I’ve been back a couple times to see Greatmother. Not for a while now, granted, but still. So yeah, it would be nice to see the old place again, one of these days, when things calm down.
Return for good, though? Doubt it. Nagrand’s always going to be home, mind you, but my life is in Azeroth now. The past is the past, and all that, and you can’t go back. Well, you can, but, you know…well, don’t remind me. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.
When are you finally going to get married? —@Greatmom_Geyah
Oh, hey, check out the timing there. I was just talking about you, Greatmother.
And…yeah. Okay, Greatmother, look. We’re all adults here, so I’m going to be real with you. You know the old saying, right? Why buy the cow, when you literally have dozens of hot women of every description lining up around Grommash Hold for a chance to take turns at…
Hang on.
Is Shayari reading this or not? Can somebody go check on this for me? Seriously.
Warchief, watch out for elven ships around durotar… Your habit of antagonizing the idiot in charge of Silvermoon could have repercussions, now that they’re stockpiling Mogu weaponry. Possibly Forsaken ships too, you KNOW those two are in bed. Figuratively. Though maybe this is the elves ending that? What do you think about this? –Ritaba
Okay… I’m not sure if this is actually a question, but… Let me put it this way, Ritaba. Ask me again how worried I am about Regent-Lord Hair-Care rising up like an avenging demon (*chortle*) and rallying his wrathful people (*guffaw*) to unleash a blood wave of vengeance on me.
Yeah. Like zero…
Dear Warchief- could you pleeeease appoint us a leader? Ever since the last Sunstrider went wacko on us, we’ve been lost… —@SintraEDrien
…aaaaaand here’s case in point as to why.
What is your favorite place in all of Azeroth? –Orgrimmar Travel Agency
You know what? You probably wouldn’t guess this, but Mulgore. I really like Mulgore. Reminds me of Nagrand a lot — rolling plains, open skies, all that kind of thing.
Honorable mention for weekends and vacations: What happens at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace, stays at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace.
Least favorite: Ashenvale. I hate Ashenvale. For multiples reasons, most of which revolve the same fel-forsaken part of it.
Warchief, I must know,
Much is known of the Kor’kron’s activities in Pandaria, and the Blackrock clan’s work in Orgrimmar and abroad. But what of your Warsong clan? They have been inactive since the Cataclysm, as far as anyone can tell. Do you have any big plans for them coming up? –Grottee Metalbeard, goblin shaman
Now see, I can understand how this could have caused some confusion. Because yeah, the Warsong clan came with me up to Northrend, and they represented a big chunk of our forces when I was in command up there. And then in the time right after the Cataclysm, they were pretty active in Ashenvale (which is not, I might have mentioned, on my list of Favorite Places Ever). And so, yeah, since then, I can see how it might look to you like they’ve gone fairly inactive, but that’s just because the clan hasn’t been operating as much as a singular force. See, before I became Warchief, I was chieftain of the clan, so they represented the main bulk of the forces under my command. Now, though, I have ALL the orcish clans under my jurisdiction, so there isn’t as much need for me to be lining up jobs for the Warsong specifically. They’ve been keeping busy, just not in a way that makes you go “the Warsong orcs are doing THIS over THERE.” Some of them were part of Nazgrim’s detachment heading down to Pandaria, a lot of them have been recruited into the ranks of the Kor’kron along with more than a few Blackrocks, others have been assigned to some other operations I have going on around Orgrimmar. So they’re just getting around more. Spread the love! And by “love,” I mean, of course, “bloody fist of retribution.”
If Varian begged for mercy would you? a: mock him, b: cut off his head, c: take over SW, d: all of the above —@SintraEDrien
Sorry, I can’t get past the first five words without cackling maniacally so hard I fall out of my chair.
Heh. Heheh.
HAAAAA!
What’s your earliest memory? —@LibFeathers
You know, my VERY earliest memories aren’t really specific memories of particular events, just the sort of odds and ends that most people remember. My childhood in Nagrand, obviously — I can remember back, vaguely, to when I was around five or so. My mom was still alive then, so I remember her, and I remember us fighting through the red pox as best we could…which, let me tell you, SUCKED. There was the pet clefthoof I had back then, y’know, before meat supplies started getting thin that one winter, and there was me getting to be friends with Dranosh. We hung out a lot back then, fishing and hunting and stuff — me and Dranosh and Jorin Deadeye, actually, back before Jorin turned out to be a dick. Um… probably my earliest memories of specific events all revolved around my mom — the day when Greatmother told me she’d died, for one. And one, a little while before that, back when the pox was still going on. I’d woken up from this nightmare, and she and I stayed up a while talking about it, and it’s nothing really momentous or even important, but it was just one of those little things that stick with you, you know? Anyway…that’s it for early memories. Not fun, I know. But like…if something’d going to stick in your head from THAT young, it’s almost always going to be something bad, right?
By any chance would you be willing to add any pandaren cultural festivals to be acknowledged? Brewfest does not count. —@ShenWeiPureblossom
Funny coincidence — you should totally go talk to Ji about this. I’ve heard he was talking to some of the other pandas about carrying over some custom you guys had on your wandering turtle island whatever-the-fuck is was, some kind of outdoor festival with noodles or something? Check in with Lunchbox about this, he could probably use a hand setting it up. Hell, I might even try to whip something up myself for it, if it happens. Like I’ve been saying, it’s been too long since I got in the kitchen.
[More OOC teasing: This is indeed on the way. In the not-too-distant future, the Pandaren Noodle Festival comes to Orgrimmar, in a comic/transcript featuring… well… almost the entire damn supporting cast.]
Hail Warchief Hellscream! It has been some time since I have found the time to reply to your writings as things have been quite busy up in Hearthglen lately. Especially with the arrival of his gracious young Highness, Prince Anduin, while he convalesces at Mardenholde for a time. Something about a bell, if I recall. Anyway, onto the question before I tarry on too long.
I had heard from a rather reliable source who would prefer anonymity that some months ago, you suffered from an invasion in Orgrimmar. Was this true, and what occurred? —Tirion Fordring
Oh geez…here we go. Well, at least T-Ford managed to keep it under 5000 words.
So…yeah. I don’t know if I would call it an INVASION, but… a little while back, yeah, there was…an incident. This goes back a few months… May, I think? Anyway, I’m hanging around in Grommash Hold, right? Just minding my own business, plotting world domination, same ol’ same ol’. A regular day at the office. When all of a sudden, out of like NOWHERE, these gnomes start running into the place. And at first, I’m like, DAMMIT MALKOROK, how about some security up in this piece, but then I see the sheer NUMBER of them — there’s hundreds of these motherfuckers. Maybe even THOUSANDS of them. Which, if you know how I feel about gnomes, was just filling me with a level of glee that could have wiped out all life in the universe.
Thing of it is, this wasn’t some actual invasion or ATTACK from the fuckers down in Gnomergan, or…wherever they fuck they’re living these days. The part of Gnome-ville that’s not fucking glowing from radiation and shit. Anyhow, THESE gnomes are all like…the noobiest, weakest, saddest little excuses for underpowered gnomes you’ve ever seen — and seriously, do you KNOW how fucking SAD someone has to be for me to be forced to coin the phrase “underpowered gnomes”?
And so in they come, in sheer numbers too big for the guards to stop them all on the way in — though, believe me, if you saw the trail of bodies you’d know they fucking TRIED — and they come flooding like rats into Grommash Hold, only if they were rats I might actually worry about it more because FLEAS. And here’s the punchline — when they finally got close to me, you know what they’re big finishing move was? They all kept trying to hug and kiss me. Like my foot or some shit. Until I popped a bladestorm, and, you know, eight trillion dead gnomes.
Which is a beautiful way to line up four words, I gotta say.
Do you like to dance? –Jordyn
Draw your own conclusions.
Do you think that maybe Mokvar and Deliana were ever married in a previous life? They seem so . . . together. —@SintraEDrien
DUDE, I don’t know WHAT the fuck to think about those two. Would it SURPRISE me? No. I am WAY past the point where fucking ANYTHING could surprise me around here. So much weird shit has gone on around here the last few years, I consider NOTHING off the menu. Mokvar and that human chick married? Sure, maybe. Half-draenei daughter from years back turns up at the front door? Why the fuck not? Ji Deep-Dish floats around in a fucking balloon and gets his pudgy ass stuck in a honey tree? Sounds normal to me. For real, man, at this point fucking Draz’Zilb the ogre could show up riding Onyxia, who’s been reanimated for like the forty-seventh time as far as anybody can count, with Anduin on a leash dressed like in a bear suit, and when Draz belches Anduin’s been conditioned to tell a knock-knock joke, and my reaction would be “Yeah, sure, why didn’t I see it coming?” WELCOME TO AZEROTH, WHERE THE BOTTOMLESS CUP OF WHAT THE FUCK FLOWS FREELY IN ALL DIRECTIONS.
Warchief, I really loved your poem about your pet clefthoof, it really brought a tear to my eye. Could you please share another sample of your EPIC VERSE from your childhood back in Garadar? –Khizzara
Hmm… okay, let me dig out the old journal and see if I can find something for you. Now, keep in mind, my poems back in those days weren’t nearly as polished, but let’s see…
Okay.
There was a little orc
Who ate a little pork
Over in the breakfast nook
And when he was bad
He wished that he was good
Cause Greatmom’s got a mean right hook
EPIC VERSE!
Wait… that’s… yeah, that one maybe doesn’t come off looking so good.
Um… I’ll see what else I can find.
When will you ever figure out that the constant stream of adventurers coming to annoy you about gold were sent from me? —@M_Grimtotem
OH FUCK YOU, MAGATHA
So for anyone who missed this, a ways back, Madame Upright Hamburger here stirred up some shit on Twitter, where she went on about having hidden a stash of gold somewhere in my damn throne room, and offering it as a giveaway to anyone who could find it. Which set off a borderline-noob-gnome-like influx of random motherfuckers running into Grommash Hold and trying to turn the damn place upside down looking for the loot. So finally, FINALLY, after Malkorok and his people rounded up and fucking executed like I don’t even know how many of these people, my throne room stopped being the hot spot for random asshats to go hang out. You know, aside from the random asshats who hang out there professionally. And before anybody starts getting all excited, let me reiterate: THERE IS NO TREASURE HIDDEN IN MY THRONE ROOM, OKAY? Seriously. The last thing I want to have happen a little ways down the road is like another ten or fifteen or twenty-five random people to come running through into my command room expecting to collect loot.
What’s the latest between you and Zaela? —@MyGarona
Look, Greatmom, I’ve told you, stop trying to… wait.
Garona?
Seriously?
Jealous much?
Look, there’s nothing going on with me and Zaela, okay?
…
…
…that you need to concern yourself with.
<waggle>
What’s the deal with people thinking Mokvar and I are a couple? No matter how many times I try, I can’t convince ANYONE! —Deliana Hawthorne
Because, see, Lor’themar can say he’s a dude, and he can call himself a dude, and he can stroll around all day in dude’s clothes and using all the right pronouns and shit, and he can talk himself red in the face trying to tell everybody he’s a dude, but at the end of the day, people with eyes and still look at him and see that he’s Lor’themar.
Also, who the hell let HER in here? MALK! How about some security, dammit?!
What’s your favorite tipple? Beer? Wine? Liquor? If any, what variety do you enjoy in particular? —@SintraEDrien
Holy shit, Sintra, you’ve sure got a lot of questions.
I’m pretty simple as far as my drinking tastes go. Beer and grog, a some rum on occasion. They have some pretty good varieties out of Stranglethorn, so I’ll pick up a bottle or two when I have the chance. Maybe a little cherry grog on occasion, but that’s about as fancy as I get with it. Although, you want to know who’s MAJORLY into the weird fruity drinks, like those ones that come with the little umbrellas every single time like there’s a fucking law prohibiting their sale without them, like drinking the drink has a chance of proccing rain and the damn umbrella has to be included as a fucking safety measure? Malkorok. No joke. Dude can’t suck down enough of that shit.
Your guess is as good as mine.
Why don’t you like us? We just want to help. —@Dontrag_Utvoch
…
Do you want me to get into the list chronologically, alphabetically, or in order of importance?
You know what? It’s not even worth it. It’s like…fuck, it’s like trying to explain to the damn wolf pup why you’re yelling at it two hours after it peed on the carpet. What’s even the fucking point?
Although…you know what’s funny? Check it: Damned if I can remember which of these fuckers is which, but I know, rank-wise, Dontrag is a sergeant, and Utvoch is a scout. Now it’s kinda-sorta funny that after like nine years in the Horde military, Utvoch still hasn’t managed to get promoted above the absolute lowest possible rank there is. Like, the day you show up, they make you a scout, and here he is a decade later and he’s STILL only managed to keep himself half a rung up from peon.
So that’s good for a chuckle. But you want to know the disturbing part? Back when I first met General Nazgrim, in Northrend, dude was rank sergeant. So that means that until I took over and started doing promotions and reassignments, fucking DONTRAG AND NAZGRIM WERE THE SAME DAMN RANK.
On the other hand, I suppose we don’t know for sure that Dontrag COULDN’T steer a ship in a straight line without crashing it, so…
Anyhow. Okay, one more, so let’s see what we’ve got to wrap up.
When are we going to hear the rest of @Mokvar_Scribe‘s tale? The people want answers! —Deliana Hawthorne
Wait, her again? DAMMIT MALKOROK, GET ON THIS!
But, okay, to answer your question:
Starting…NOW.*
That’s it for questions for tonight. Thanks to all of my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS for contributing, and to all of my enemies who came by, FUCK YOU ALL BUT THANKS FOR THE PAGEVIEWS, NOW HIT RFRESH A FEW MORE TIMES THEN CROAK.
I’m out, people. More soon.
* * * * *
*VERY soon, in fact — as an added perk for those of you who’ve stayed this late into the going, well…count to ten, click back to the main page, and rejoin the ongoing tale of Mokvar, Garrosh, and more!
Meanwhile, for those of you coming late to the party, don’t worry, you haven’t missed your chance to pose your questions to the Warchief — there’s always his monthly mailbag! Next edition coming March 2! Feel free to e-mail, or use the handy-dandy form below:
Monday mailbag
So not only have I not really done a decent mailbag in a while (the last one really opened up a pretty big can of worms, to be fair), but in light of recent events, I actually have a pretty serious influx of stuff to respond to. Let’s get right to the mail…
In light of everything you’ve been going through, I decided to take a trip to Demon Fall Canyon to pay my respects to Grom and Lakkara both. I’ve included a picture of myself at Grom’s monument below. Also, while you were traveling to Nagrand this week, I took the liberty of writing a post on the blog to encourage your readers to do the same. Hopefully they’ll follow my lead and send you some photographic proof that we’re all behind you, and thinking of you while you deal with everything that’s happened.
If you ever need anything,
–Spazzle Fizzletrinket, Orgrimmar
Thanks, Spazzle. Much appreciated. As it turns out, a bunch of other people did follow your lead, and my inbox ended up sort of flooded with e-mails and links from people chronicling their own visits. Here’s a smattering from folks who didn’t include an actual letter:
And a bunch here that Leit over at int i; posted as part of a full blog entry on the…well…pilgrimages, I guess, that Spazzle set off:
Condolences on the … recent disturbing events. It’s hard enough to lose a parent once, let alone twice. Know that the Horde grieves with you.
In other news, guess who I ran into the other day? None other than Faranell, the “new guy” in your guild. One of your Kor’kron guards has developed a rather innovative method for controlling the pace of Faranell’s research. He occasionally punts an abomination’s head into the sewers.
That’s Faranell in the middle, and Overseer Kraggosh on the right. He seems to be doing a fine job.
And lastly, Bowling for Wildhammer. You should try it.
(And yes, that’s an atypical hairstyle for one of us. I learned long ago that long, flowing locks and high-torque power shafts DO NOT play well together.)
–A Concerned Citizen
Hey ACC, good to hear from you, and thanks for the show of support. It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but I’ll manage. Granted, I’ll sleep a lot better once ol’ You-Know-Who is finally captured and properly dismembered.
Speaking of dissected bodies, thanks as well for checking in on things in the Undercity. Did you happen to see any signs of Koltira Deathweaver while you were down there, by the way? Haven’t heard from him in months, and last anybody heard he was helping Sylvanas with some stuff out in the Plaguelands. Anyway…I’m sure the boys are keeping things under control down there. I’m still not totally sold on Bragor Bloodfist and the job he’s doing with the watching-Sylvanas-but-not-necessarily-in-the-right-way, but I’m sure Overseer Kraggosh is taking care of business. I actually gave him the Apothecarium assignment deliberately, in the hopes that maybe working down there could help grease the wheels on moving him up on the list of potential “donor” organ recipients. Not to jinx things, but the guy has a really bad family history, heart disease and such, to the point that most of the family pretty much treats it as a foregone conclusion. Want to know how bad it is? The name “Kraggosh”? Means “Heart of Cholesterol” in orcish. Yeah.
Also, Bowling for Wildhammer? You’ve got to fill me in on this one. Strangely enough, for all the meetings I’ve had with Zaela, somehow she never mentioned this little diversion in Twilight Highlands. Seriously, they’ve got some kind of blood sport out there called Bowling for Wildhammer, and she’s wasting my time trying to fucking push some damn SUSHI place on me over and over? The fuck?
Spazzle suggested we attempt to cheer you up by sending you letters and pictures of us honoring your dearly departed father and mother. I kept trying to take decent shots, but my stupid pet kept ruining my pictures. The attached one is the best one I have with out any sort of shenanigans.
While I am writing I would like to ask you a question. Have you ever considered settling down and starting a family? I am from the Armripper clan who has made a good showing in all the conflicts. I am young but not too young. I was a part of the events in Northrend and was there to help kill the Litch King. I was also helpful in bringing down Deathwing and the Twilight Cult.
The only deal breaker for me is that I must be able to keep my full stable of pets near me (ie in the house at all times). I love my pets so much and would never be able to settle down with a man that did not respect that. I have 25 of them, mostly large felines of various colorings. Each one is precious to me.
Awaiting your reply,
–Toka Armripper
Oh great. We’ve got another one.
I actually think I remember you from Northrend, Toka, from when I joined the troops in Icecrown Citadel to deliver Hellscream’s Warsong. My memory’s a little fuzzy on one point, though — you weren’t on of those fuckers who had a problem with the Warsong and wanted me to stop singing, were you? Because I’ll tell you in no uncertain terms, I have an enchanting singing voice, I don’t care what any of you people say.
I’m also totally fine with the pet thing. I mean, 25 cats is maybe a bit much, especially since you say you’re young, seeing as the Crazy Cat Lady thing usually doesn’t start kicking in until middle age at the earliest. (Also, that thing you said about being “young, but not too young”? Is this your way of telling me that you’re, you know, legal? Because assuming we’re talking over 18 here, “too young”? Ain’t no such thing. If there’s grass on the field, play ball.) But I get the appeal of pets — obviously I’m pretty attached to Mortimer, and he would definitely be a dealbreaker for me too, and I also have my worg Malak, who doesn’t get as much press as Mortimer does but also isn’t negotiable. So I get it.
That said, gotta be honest, I haven’t really given a whole lot of thought to settling down any time soon. For one thing, I have way too many things to focus on that are a lot bigger than just me. I have a war to win and humans to exterminate and the glorious future of an Azeroth-dominating Horde to secure, and my time and energy is going to be a lot better spent on that stuff than running around filling out a gift registry (which by the way, am I the only one who thinks that’s a fucking tacky idea in the first place? “Hey, here’s a list of the stuff we want you to buy us, because getting married all of sudden means we get to act like we’re 10 years old and everyone we know is Greatfather fucking Winter”) and getting measured for a tux. Which, also by the way, I don’t do bow ties. Chafe my neck something awful.
But even beyond that, have you SEEN Thrall since he got married? Look, I didn’t always agree with him, but even I wouldn’t hesitate to admit the guy was a badass. Now? Have you seen how he lets Aggra lead him around by the nose? I mean hell, even when he was busy fighting Deathwing, there he was, him and the Aspects and a collection of some of the Horde’s greatest champions, and they narrowly pull off this nail-biter victory that saves the world, and right in their moment of glory and triumph who just SHOWS THE FUCK UP like she OWNS the place? Yeah. Aggra. No thanks.
Besides, why would I want to settle down? Let’s be honest here — there’s a reason why I’ve ended up having to replace my bed upstairs in Grommash Hold 37 times since I took over as Warchief, and believe you me, it ain’t faulty craftsmanship.
Spazzle Speaks: Mailbag Request
Hey, what’s up?
Spazzle here again. Just wanted to chime in and give everybody an update, and also make a request. Garrosh has been getting back to normal again the last few days. (Well, about as normal as things get for him.) (I probably should have known better than to say that. He does read this sometimes.) But he’s still taking everything pretty hard. I can’t really blame him; I can’t imagine what it must be like to find your long-lost mom again, then lose her, then… <sigh> Anyway, he left last night to go back to Nagrand for a few days. He’s staying in contact with us here in Orgrimmar, but some time out there will probably do him good.
I have a request for everybody for when he gets back again. Garrosh has been so busy dealing with everything else lately that he really hasn’t had much of a chance to check on his mail. I think maybe having some letters to respond to might help him get his mind off of everything else that’s been going on, and let him get back in a more comfortable space. So if you guys could be sending him some mail, maybe a few random Warchief-ish questions like the old days, I think it might do him some good.
Or, maybe even better, you could take a different approach to helping him via the mail. Maybe a show of solidarity. If you happen to find yourself near Demon Fall Canyon in Ashenvale, or the Ancestral Grounds in Nagrand, maybe take a minute to stop and pay your respects? To Grom, or Lakkara, or both…and Garrosh by extension. If you include a picture of yourself there in your note to the Warchief, that could be nice for him to see, to know he’s not going it alone. Maybe even toss the picture up on your own blog if you have one, since I know Garrosh reads around quite a bit, even if he usually stays a lurker.
If you ever need anything,
Spazzle
By way of apology
Taking a short break from packing a few things for Nagrand. I was just talking to Eitrigg, and he was pointing out how I got all worked up thinking Varian and Jaina were behind what happened in Demon Fall Canyon, and suggested – fasten your seat belts for this one – that I might want to do something to acknowledge that they really didn’t have anything to do with it. Like…apologize. Which in general I’ve gotta say is a pretty WTF idea, but considering how testy I’ve been the last week or so, I guess it might not be a horrible idea to try to…I don’t know…be a little nice, I guess.
So I’m going to try this very unfamiliar gesture using a fairly familiar form – you guessed it, EPIC VERSE style. Simple, straightforward form, courtesy of Chen Stormstout’s people. Here goes…
Falsely accused, true:
Not your fault for a change — still,
Fuck you, Varian.
Yeah, I know it kind of took a left turn at the end. I tried. I mean we’re talking about fucking Varian here.
March of the dead
Word just in from Ashenvale – Captain Tarkan’s scouts have found the surviving human from the attack in Demon Fall Canyon. Or, what’s left of him. His remains were found in Talondeep Vale. From the looks of it he was making a run for the Talondeep Pass and just didn’t make it before his injuries caught up with him.
The body had nothing with it other than some minimal survival gear. In other words…the human body was the only body they found. No sign of Lakkara. So…either the human passed her body off to someone else sometime before he died, or…I don’t know what. I’d rather not think about any more possibilities, honestly.
The human was probably trying to make it through the pass into Stonetalon Mountains. I suppose he COULD have been heading for Stardust Spire, but if his goal was to get to a friendly Alliance outpost, considering his injuries, it would have made a lot more sense for him to make a run for Raynewood Retreat or Forest Song, both of which would have been a lot closer. So we have to figure he was headed for Stonetalon.
I’m not sure why, though. I don’t know why Stonetalon rather that somewhere else, especially while he was carrying Lakkara’s remains. But I’m more than a little troubled by the fact that that’s where the business with Grebo got started as well. Somehow or other Stonetalon is in the middle of this.
I’m reassigning Krog from Brackenwall Village to Cliffwalker Post, and sending word to Overlord Cliffwalker that I want Dontrag and Utvoch sent out to do some additional scouting. I want Krog’s detective skills up there – his abilities as an inspector will be a lot more helpful there than with the current goings-on in Dustwallow Marsh – but otherwise I’d rather keep the search efforts limited to those already in the know.
Updates as they become available.
Lifetime piling up
I killed her. Me and my big mouth.
Not literally. But I might as well have. t was enough that she died because I left myself vulnerable when Grebo attacked. But Grebo just BEING there was my fault.
I had to go yammering on in guild chat about where I was going with her. Not even thinking about who might be there listening in. How many times do I have to run into people pretending to be something they’re not on the internet before I get it through my thick skull? And so, there they were, Varian Wrynn and Jaina Proudmoore, right there in my own guild, soaking it all in. I might as well have sent them fucking invitations and enclosed a poisoned blade. And lo and behold, a pack of humans turn up out of nowhere.
It’s the only thing that makes sense. That’s the only time I talked to anyone about where we were going, other than my mother herself and a few of the guards we passed leaving Orgrimmar and traveling through Ashenvale.
I know what you’re thinking – how to account for Grebo. He’s still an orc, right? So why would he be working with humans if that’s who’s behind this? And see, that’s where you’re just looking at the surface. Grebo WAS an orc. That thing that attacked me in Demon Fall Canyon? That was Grebo’s reanimated corpse. I’ve been talking to Draz’Zilb out of Brackenwall Village – he’s no stranger to necromancy, and he tells me that when someone is resurrected, there’s a whole range of possibilities as far as how much of the actual person is still there. Maybe it’s the entire being come back whole. Maybe it’s an empty shell, walking around wearing the original person’s face. Maybe it’s any of a million points in between, any combination of memories, motivations, personality, will…anyway, he tells me it wouldn’t be much of a stretch at all to rig things so whoever you’re raising is going to be perfectly cooperative, whoever you happen to be.
No shock to anyone, I’ve been going over and over this in my head all day. I ended up needing to get out of my war room and get some air, so I took Mortimer for a ride around Durotar. I was planning just to fly around some and hopefully clear my head, but on one loop around we passed over Tiragarde Keep. And I happened to look down.
Humans.
So I landed. An hour later and I was still there. Not even rushing around, just taking my time, wandering through the keep, cutting down any humans I could find.
Usually we’ve been content to leave this human outpost alone – it doesn’t pose any real threat, and the humans there are weak even by human standards, and in a way they’re handy to have around as a training exercise for some of our up-and-comers out of Razor Hill. Send the young blood over, have them take out some easy human pickings, we keep the cockroach population under control and the kids feel like they’ve accomplished something. Everybody wins.
Not today. Today I’m in no mood to humor them. Today I’m done tolerating their presence, these pathetic vermin daring – PRESUMING – to claim a foothold in our lands. These two-legged rats from Theramore (THERAMORE), sitting here almost within eyeshot of Orgrimmar… I’m done with them. They’re like animals – every action I’ve ever known them to take shows it. WORSE than animals, even – at least a dog understands loyalty, and a wyvern has some instinctive sense of honor. Like animals, but less. So I slaughtered them like animals.
It was a good afternoon. While it lasted.
A long time ago I swore I’d make the humans regret the crimes they’ve committed against our people. Somehow I let those words become just that: words. Got lazy, grew complacent, contented myself with sitting around on a throne made out of the skull of an enemy I didn’t even kill myself and puffing out my chest like I’d done enough.
No more.
Legionnaire Nazgrim finally returned home to Orgrimmar last week after extended duty in Vashj’ir. I’m promoting him to General and putting him in charge of the initial stages of what comes next. I’ll be laying out our military plans in the next few days, but I don’t plan on wasting much time before we get to work. I’ve already wasted enough. It’s time I got to work doing what I should have done long ago.
Kill them all.
All that you can’t leave behind
I stopped at Silverwind Refuge after I left Demon Fall Canyon, and left orders for Captain Tarkan to blanket the zone with as many scouting teams as he could pull together. I’ll send word over to Hellscream’s Watch to send out air patrols as well to watch the borders, but I can’t imagine that last human could keep traveling at much of a pace. Not if he’s as injured as he had to be, and not if he’s weighed down by carrying…never mind. Point is, I’ll be surprised if he’s not still in Ashenvale somewhere.
Grebo’s a whole other matter. He could be anywhere. So next up is an alert to all the border patrols. Notices to all the outpost commanders. Who to look for, and where he was last seen, and setting a messenger network to warn all the nearby stations if he’s spotted anywhere, in case he gets away again.
See. I’m staying on top of this. Doing the job. Keeping my mind on the job. Checking off all the boxes, hitting all the right protocols. Textbook.
Not letting myself think about that sound, from Grebo’s axe. Or of Lakkara crying out. Or how 99 times out of 100 I would never, ever let my back get turned to an oncoming enemy like that. Not going to think about all the ways I would usually square my body and turn to meet him and not give anybody else a chance to get close.
And I’m not letting myself start thinking about what they want with her. Why they would take her. Or who they even are. Or the fact that the last dead body they took an interest in was Grebo himself.
And I’m not thinking about that damn Demon Fall Canyon, that spirits-forsaken place that’s orphaned me twice now, on the exact same spot. Or how beautiful it’ll all look covered in bright, cleansing flames.
I’m not thinking about any of that at all.
I have work to do.
[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!]
When a good orc goes to war
Here’s an ugly fact: If you’ve spent enough time in battle – past the point where you get the rookie jitters, straight through to that point where the sight of blood doesn’t phase you anymore – you start to be able to hear the difference between types of blows. The flesh wounds, the cleaving slices, the glancing cuts, the deep hacks that hit bone…eventually you know just from the sound when a blow’s been landed that no garden variety mortal is going to walk away from.
Eventually you know that sound. You never mistake it.
I was hearing that sound a lot when my mother and I first arrived in Demon Fall Canyon. Like always, the place was crawling with lesser demons…droves of these piddly weak-ass infernals and succubi and felguards. When I came here once before, I mostly made my way around them – the pansy-ass fuckers were at least bright enough not to want anything to do with me – but this time I didn’t have much interest in sneaking around. So, we left a nice wide trail of chopped-up demons all the way to Grom’s monument.
I kept my distance and let Lakkara go up to the monument by herself. She knelt down next to it and read Thrall’s plaque, then cried for a while. When she finally composed herself again, she started talking quietly. I didn’t really try to listen in, only picked up little bits and pieces. Something about doing what she had to do to keep their son safe and untainted…that she was happy he found his way back, like she’d always hoped he would. That she wished she could have been there beside him at the end.
I didn’t go near the monument. I didn’t want to disturb her.
I was mostly off in my own thoughts and didn’t notice the rustling in the surrounding bushes until it was too late. Something hit me from behind – I couldn’t see right away – and then a voice from one of the nearby cliffs called out to me by name, and yelled something about me being a shortsighted fool, and I would lead the Horde to ruin because I wasn’t willing to make the tough choices. Monologuing away, true to bad guy form, which of course just gave me time to get my wits about me and see who it was.
Guess who. “Former General” Grebo, up and kicking again. I swear, doesn’t anybody stay dead anymore? Other than the ones who deserve better?
Meanwhile, I’d also been able to size up who had jumped me. There were four humans, all dressed in black, who’d gotten in a few hits to disorient me before I knew what was happening. Now, though, I’d gotten my second wind and had Gorehowl out. And then there were three humans. And then there were two.
While I was making short work of Grebo’s human lackeys, Grebo himself leapt down from the cliff behind me. I just caught him landing out of the corner of my eye as I was spinning to cut down another one of the humans – they really DO drop easily – but I managed to put a little TOO much energy into my swing, spun more than I’d meant to on the follow-through, and turned my back to Grebo as a result. Rookie mistake. I know better than that. And while I regained my footing, I could hear the footsteps running up behind me.
And then another set of footsteps. And a voice yelling “No!”
And then that sound.
Eventually…you know that sound. You never mistake it.
And then my mother’s voice crying out. And then nothing.
Lakkara collapsed to the ground. I turned and lunged at Grebo, but that final lackey of his managed to lock me up for a second. (Throwdown is considerably less fun when you’re on the other end of it.) Grebo must have realized that all of a sudden this wasn’t the day to try his luck, and started to take off. The couple of seconds I took separating the last human from his arms gave Grebo enough time to get a decent head start on me, and by the time I could close the gap at all, he was able to duck around a corner and disappear. Into a cave, or the shadows, or who knows where. Somehow he lost me and I wasn’t going to start wasting time chasing shadows.
I tried to hurry back to the monument as fast as I could, even though I knew deep down that time really wasn’t going to be an issue. When I got back, the armless human was laying in his heap, along with two of the others, but one of his friends was gone – maybe I was a little quick to assume I’d one-shot them all? There was blood on the ground where he fell, and more trailing along to a second bloody puddle where Lakkara had fallen. Only…no Lakkara.
I ran around Demon Fall Canyon like a lunatic, looking for bodies, blood, scraps of cloth. Tracks, as if I was a fucking hunter and would know how to follow them in the first place. Anything. All I could find was more of those damned weakling demons, and the ones that had the bad luck to be within arm’s reach found themselves swapped out for a pile of demon parts real quick. But no sign of my mother. No human. Nothing.
I’m back in Orgrimmar now. My head hasn’t stopped spinning. There isn’t one single part of this that makes sense, but I’m going to find out what’s going on, and how this happened. And someone’s going to pay.
[Header image provided by Angelya from Revive and Rejuvenate, used here with permission and many thanks.]
