Tag Archives: eitrigg
Spazzle Speaks: Darkspear Edition
Big news just came in from Pandaria, and there’s really no good way to say it, so here goes.
Vol’jin is dead.
He was on a mission investigating a cave with Rak’gor Bloodrazor, Grizzle Gearslip, and a detachment of Kor’kron, when they were ambushed by saurok marauders. Before the group could fend off the saurok, Vol’jin had been killed. Word is that Rak’gor Bloodrazor died in the fight as well.
The news broke in Orgrimmar earlier today, and as you can probably imagine, people are freaking out over it. Especially in the Valley of Spirits. Eitrigg has ordered flags flown at half mast over the next week.
I’m not sure who’s going to take over at the Echo Isles. I was never too clear about Darkspear rules of succession, to be honest. In the meantime, while everyone sorts out what happens next, the Kor’kron are sending a unit led by Gul’tar down to the Echo Isles to maintain order and guard against any moves by the Alliance to take advantage of the instability.
At least that’s how they’re explaining it. Who knows what’s actually going on. All I know at this point is I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
Guest Post: Furtive Father Winter
[Special guest post today, as part of Blog Azeroth’s Furtive Father Winter gift exchange. Today’s post was provided by Akabeko of Red Cow Rise — many thanks! I’ll be back with a final note from Mokvar after Akabeko’s gem. So now, without further ado…]
———
(On the Feast of Winter Veil, a grunt brings a brightly-wrapped box to the Warchief’s quarters. Inside are several letters, cards, and small gifts. A simple note is left on top of the whole festive affair.)
“Hey, Warchief. Do not open until Winter Veil! I rounded up all the gifts that arrived for you and put them together for easy transport on your trip. Happy Holidays. –Mokvar.”
On the back of the note, a card for one-month’s worth of Earth Online game time has been attached, with a note saying, “For when you find a stable wifi connection in Pandaria!”
The first card is printed on very thick, expensive paper and depicts the ruins of Lordaeron blanketed in snow. Somehow, this makes them look even bleaker and more terrifying, rather than peaceful. Inside, the card reads, “A very merry Feast of Winter Veil to my favorite Warchief. I wish you success in your siege of Pandaria and a Happy New Year.” It’s signed with an elaborate, flowing, nearly illegible “Sylvanas Windrunner.” The small package is wrapped in black paper and contains a miniature model of a plague thrower.
The next card is written in strong letters. The outside shows Greatfather Winter astride a comically large horse. Inside, it is in Common rather than Orcish. “Warchief Hellscream, I wish you an illustrious Winter Veil and a bright New Year. May fortune favor you in whichever endeavors you choose to undertake. May you be showered with the brightest of blessings and-“ (here, the handwriting appears to have been cut off, and finishes reluctantly) “-happy holidays from Tirion Fordring.” Below this, a different hand has written “and Eitrigg.”
Next is a postcard. One side has a standard greeting: “Happy Holidays!” in gold script. The back says, “…from Anger Management!” It has been signed by those who have attended sessions with the Warchief. Mylune has drawn tiny pawprints around her name.
On the next envelope, Mokvar has added a sticky note that says, “There wasn’t a return address on this one, so I’m not sure who it’s from! Maybe you’ll figure it out from the handwriting?” Inside is a card depicting the Silvermoon coat of arms. The note simply reads, “Merry Feast of Winter Veil from LOR’THEMAR THERON, REGENT LORD OF QUEL’THALAS.” There is also a small parchment with a sketch of his noble visage, just in case.
Below this is a handmade card from Garona. In fairly passable calligraphy, she has written “Happy Holidays, honorable Warchief.” There are faint smudges where the words “Let’s have dinner” have been erased. There is also a package wrapped in shiny red paper which contains a pair of soft wool fingerless gloves. Who knew Garona was so good with crafts?
The next card is smudged and crinkled. An unsteady hand has written “Merry Happy Winter Veil.” Below this are two messy signatures that might say “Dontrag” and “Utvoch.” It may have been written in crayon.
The final card bears the Alliance crest. The inside reads,
“Happy Holidays
From a superior king
Oh – FUCK YOU GARROSH”
———
Postscript from Mokvar:
I didn’t mention any of this when I originally delivered it to Garrosh a few days ago, just becuase…well…after he saw that last one, it seemed like a good idea to wait a little while till after he’d left town before anyone brought it up again. When I was assembling the package, I remember giving Ben-Lin Cloudstider, the anger management counselor, a peek at the card from Varian there…and her replying, “I see. I will clear my calendar for the next few weeks, then.”
The Garrosh scribe sweepstakes
First off, since everyone has been asking, Mokvar is doing okay. He’s got a shaman over in the Valley of Wisdom he’s been checking in with, and he’s been resting up mostly. Ji Firepaw has been spending a fair amount of time over there too when he hasn’t been running all over the place with some of his panda friends. So far Malkorok hasn’t dug up any leads, but I’m giving him a lot of latitude – I want this thing squared away before we leave for Pandaria in a few days.
The upcoming voyage, though, just serves as a reminder of how badly I need an interim scribe, seeing as Mokvar isn’t going to be coming, at least not at first. I’ve gotten some interest from a few people – although I’m definitely still taking applications – and I figured the best way to go about this is to let them all have a tryout. I had a meeting earlier with Malkorok and Eitrigg, along with Malkork’s peeps Gul’tar and Blood Guard Gro’tash, and so I invited a few of the contenders to attend and show what they can do.
So, here we go with today’s scribe auditions, starting with…
Nerog, inscription trainer from the Drag:
EITRIGG: Shall we begin, Warchief?
GARROSH: A member of our company yet remains absent – you, gentlemen: have you any notion of where Malkorok might be?
GUL’TAR: He said he would be here after seeing Mokvar about the attack. … We can fill in for him if need be, sir.
GARROSH: Very well.
EITRIGG: Have you made the final troop assignments, Warchief?
GARROSH: The final rosters have been cast; I shall arrange for copies for Malkorok and yourself once our new scribe is in place.
EITRIGG: Yes, sir. Have we been able to gather enough troops from Mulgore to fill out this initial wave? I know Baine had expressed some concerns about gathering a large force on short notice…
GARROSH: Ah, ask not one man more from Mulgore! Rather proclaim it throughout our host, that he that has no stomach to this fight – let him depart! We would not die in that man’s company!
EITRIGG: As you say, sir. We few, we merry few…
GARROSH: Have you completed the compilation of our gathered intelligence on the peoples of Pandaria?
EITRIGG: Yes, sir. There are the pandaren, obviously, with whom we’ve established contacts now in multiple regions. Their primary nemesis appears to be a race called the mogu.
…
(Eitrigg outlines the mogu race: former rulers of Pandaria, overthrown, recently returned, power to put souls into stone)
EITRIGG: Perhaps it might be worth conducting some research at the mogu ruins? A reason to bring a contingent from the Reliquary?
GARROSH: A worthwhile idea, I suppose, especially in that bringing some number of the blood elves might facilitate the strained relations with their people of late.
EITRIGG: Yes, sir.
(Malkorok enters somewhat unsteadily.)
MALKOROK: Apologies for being late, Warchief. …
GUL’TAR: Sir, what happened? You look—
MALKOROK: There was an…incident at that scribe’s dwelling.
GARROSH: I shudder to imagine the condition of your foe, though you appear to have been wounded yourself.
MALKOROK: My adversary took the worse of the exchange, enough that he saw fit to flee.
…
The scribe escaped …
GARROSH: What happened?
MALKOROK: I had some questions to ask the scribe about the other night.
…
I wasn’t inclined to leave it to chance.
…
GARROSH: And I take it he got away?
MALKOROK: Unfortunately
EITRIGG: How did he manage to escape?
…
GARROSH: A fair query, in light of your supposed prowess in both combat and security.
MALKOROK: I had gained the upper hand when I was stunned somehow. There may have been a second party
…
GARROSH: In that case, as we now have potentially multiple rogue parties loose in Orgrimmar, I want security tightened, especially in light of our imminent departure for Pandaria.
…
Speaking of which, one other item pertaining to the voyage, and I cannot stress its importance enough.
EITRIGG: Yes, Warchief?
GARROSH: Do NOT. Tell Vol’jin. When we’re leaving.
So, you know, as much as I like this guy – he was really doing a good job of capturing my command of the language, if I say so myself, something even our boy Mokvar sometimes cuts corners with, FOR WHAT REASON I CANNOT IMAGINE – but it’s pretty painfully obvious he just couldn’t keep up. Way too much skipping stuff and glossing over and what-have-you.
This, obviously, raises some questions about…you know…why this guy is the freaking inscription TRAINER around here, but whatever.
Next…
Sinzi Sparkscribe, ink vendor:
EITRIGG
Shall we begin, Warchief?GARROSH
We’re still short one advisor. Do you guys know where Malkorok is?GRO’TASH
I think he was going to speak to Mokvar about the attack, Warchief. There were some follow-up questions.GUL’TAR
We can fill in for him if need be, sir. Even take notes if you think…GARROSH
[Looks over to the trio of scribes.]
I think we’ve already got that covered.EITRIGG
Have you made the final troop assignments, Warchief?GARROSH
I have the rosters written up. I’ll get copies to you and Malkorok soon.EITRIGG
Yes, sir. Have we been able to gather enough troops from Mulgore to fill out this initial wave? I know Baine had some concerns…GARROSH
Not as many as I’d like, but we’ll make due without them. I’m not going to lose a lot of sleep over a shortage of half-hearted conscripts.EITRIGG
If you say so, sir.GARROSH
Have you finished compiling the reports on the local races we’re liable to encounter?EITRIGG
Yes, sir. There’s the pandaren, obviously, with whom we’ve established contacts now in multiple zones. Their primary nemesis appears to be a race called the mogu – a curious race, it would seem, who apparently ruled Pandaria tyrannically for a prolonged period before being overthrown by the pandaren.GARROSH
So hold on, they were overthrown by the pandaren? I’m not exactly scared of these guys.EITRIGG
Still, sir, they appear to have been very much feared, and have just recently reappeared. And they seem to have possessed the power to infuse living souls into stone, either to imprison or to preserve for eventual reawakening.GARROSH
Huh. I think Krog mentioned something like that recently.EITRIGG
Perhaps it might be worth conducting some research at some of the mogu ruins while we’re there? All the more reason to bring that contingent from the Reliquary?GARROSH
Yeah, couldn’t hurt. Plus, like I said before, it might help smooth things over a little with Lor’themar if I bring a few extra blood elves for the trip.EITRIGG
Yes, sir.[Malkorok enters, bruised.]
MALKOROK
My apologies for being late, Warchief. There was an…incident at the scribe’s dwelling.GARROSH
You look like you took a few pretty good shots…MALKOROK
Rest assured, Warchief, my adversary took the brunt of the exchange. Enough so that they saw fit to fl e.EITRIGG
W at happen d? Wh t abo t Mokv r? Is he a l rig t?MALKOROK
The scribe…es ape d unsc thed so f r s I k w.…
[The transcript trails off at this point, with a note in pencil indicating “Out of ink.”]
So okay…hang on.
Let’s even set aside the fact that she knew this was her scribing audition here, and the fact that under those circumstances you would THINK someone would show up with enough materials that there’s no way they could run out. Let’s even set that aside.
She’s…a fucking…INK TRADER.
And she RAN OUT OF INK?
HOW in the FUCK…you know what? Forget it. I’m only going to make myself more angry. Moving on.
Next up…
Xantili, inscription vendor from the Valley of Spirits:
EITRIGG: Shall we begin, Warchief?
GARROSH: Well we’re still short one advisor. You guys know where Malkorok is?
GUL’TAR: Does anyone really care where he is?
GRO’TASH: I believe he was going to speak to Mokvar about the attack, Warchief. I think there were some follow-up questions.
GUL’TAR: We can fill in for him if need be, sir. Even take notes if you think…
GARROSH: <looking over the group of scribes> Yeah, I think we’ve already got that covered. Okay then.
EITRIGG: Have you made the final troop assignments, Warchief?
GARROSH: I have the rosters written up. I’ll get copies to you and Malkorok as soon as… <gestures to the scribes> …well, you know.
EITRIGG: Yes, sir. Have we been able to gather enough troops from Mulgore to fill out this initial wave? I know Baine had expressed some concerns…
GARROSH: Not as many as I’d like, but we’ll make due without them. I’m not going to lose a lot of sleep over a shortage of half-hearted conscripts. We’ll fill things out one way or another.
EITRIGG: If you say so, sir.
GARROSH: Have you finished compiling those reports on the local races we’re liable to encounter?
EITRIGG: Yes, sir. There’s the pandaren, obviously, with whom we’ve established contacts now in multiple zones. Their primary nemesis appears to be a race called the mogu – a curious race, it would seem, who apparently ruled Pandaria tyrannically for a prolonged period before being overthrown by the pandaren.
GARROSH: So hold on, they had their iron rule toppled by the fat, drunken teddy bears? I’m not exactly shaking in my boots over these guys.
EITRIGG: Still, sir, they appear to have been very much feared, and have just recently reappeared. And they seem to have possessed the power to infuse living souls into stone, either to imprison or to preserve for eventual reawakening.
GARROSH: Huh. I think Krog mentioned something like that recently. Interesting…
EITRIGG: Perhaps it might be worth conducting some research at some of the mogu ruins while we’re there? All the more reason to bring that contingent from the Reliquary?
GARROSH: Yeah, couldn’t hurt, I suppose. Plus it might help smooth things over a little with…you know…ol’ Captain Peroxide up there in Silvermoon if I bring a few extra blood elves for this shindig.
EITRIGG: Yes, sir.
Malkorok stumbles in shakily.
MALKOROK: Apologies for being late, Warchief. I was busy getting my ass handed to me.
GUL’TAR: What happened? You look—
MALKOROK: There was an…incident at that scribe’s dwelling.
GARROSH: Dude, what’s the other guy look like? You look like crap.
MALKOROK: Rest assured, Warchief, my adverary took the worst of the exchange, which is sort of a shame, I know, since as we all know everybody would love to see me get completely curbstomped. But I injured them enough that they saw fit to flee.
EITRIGG: What happened, jerk? What about Mokvar? Is he all right, or were you too busy losing to notice?
MALKOROK: The scribe…escaped unscathed so far as I know.
GARROSH: Okay, pinhead, let’s hear all about how you made a mess of this. As usual, mon.
MALKOROK: I was on my way to ask the scribe a few questions concerning the other night’s attack, when I saw a dark-cloaked figure approaching his dwelling. This was very scary, so obviously I wet myself. After I pulled myself together, I moved to intercept the intruder.
GARROSH: You think this was one of the attackers from the other night, back to finish the job?
MALKOROK: I wasn’t inclined to leave it to chance.
EITRIGG: Wasn’t there more than one of them the first time?
GARROSH: Did you get a good look at them?
MALKOROK: Not really since I’m such a screw-up. Dressed in black, hooded and masked, that’s about all I can say…
GARROSH: And I take it this one got away?
MALKOROK: Unfortunately, sir.
EITRIGG: And how, might I ask, did this intruder manage to elude our mighty warrior and internal security chief…?
MALKOROK: I refer you again to my being a royal screw-up. Though you try my patience, old mon…
GARROSH: Still, dude, it’s a fair question. This IS supposed to be your bread and butter, keeping the place locked down.
MALKOROK: I was winning, yay me, but then I was stunned somehow, boo I suck again. There may have been a second party intervening in the first one’s aid.
EITRIGG: Ah, so there was more than one…
MALKOROK: In any case, if their intent was to reach the scribe Mokvar, they were not successful. So I guess it was a tie in our battle to see who could out-fail the other.
GARROSH: Just the same, now we know they’re still on the loose in Orgrimmar somewhere. I want security tightened up, especially with us leaving for Pandaria soon.
MALKOROK: Yes, sir. I’ll try not to be so completely useless this time.
GARROSH: And speaking of which, one other thing about this Pandaria voyage. And I can’t possibly stress the importance of this enough.
EITRIGG: Yes, Warchief?
GARROSH: <looks grimly around the room> Do NOT. Let Vol’jin. Forget about the trip. I would really be missin’ him if he didn’t come.
Um…so…
Yeah. Keep those applications coming in. Like seriously.
I think I might send a note off to Saurfang while I’m thinking of it. I think he had a personal scribe up in Warsong Hold who was pretty good. Maybe I can talk him into letting me borrow her for a couple weeks.
Really. Scribe applications. Get on ’em, people.
Best-laid plans
So I’ve been working with my trainees the last couple days, and other than the fact that by and large they have the attention span of a gnat on caffeine, and the fact that they seem to find every random thing hilarious, especially if you try to get them to STOP finding it hilarious, because when you try to get them to take something seriously for a change boy oh boy that REALLY brings on the LOL’s, and…what was I talking about? I swear I should try to edit some of these things when I write them. That is, if Spazzle can ever get his twitchy green ass around to showing me where the damn delete key is again.
Okay, so take two. The trainees. Once you get past all the crap that makes fourteen year olds annoying, which granted is a lot, they’re actually pretty good. I mean you can definitely see the makings of some pretty decent warriors among the bunch of them. Gurtash included, obviously, but then he does have kind of an unfair edge, what with me already having been showing him a few tricks. I’ll keep you all posted on how this whole thing goes.
In the meantime, we had another planning session for Pandaria today. We’re getting close to being ready to go…
EITRIGG: Preparations are going to schedule, Warchief. The fleet is now fully assembled at Bladefist Bay, and Grizzle Gearslip assures me that the last of the siege engines will be ready within a few days.
MALKOROK: I would recommend keeping the fleet on rotating patrols until we’re ready to depart, Warchief. If we keep the entire fleet docked, and the Alliance launches an attack…
GARROSH: Good call. I assume you can work out a rotation with Drok and the other captains?
MALKOROK: I’ll see to the arrangements, Warchief.
GARROSH: Good. One other question.
MALKOROK: Yes, sir?
GARROSH: Who the hell are these people?
Garrosh points to two other orcs sitting around Malkorok at the conference table.
MALKOROK: Sir? You’ve already met Rak’gor Bloodrazor here; he was at our last strategy session.
GARROSH: Oh, yeah, I remember him now. Who’s the other guy?
MALKOROK: Another one of my lieutenants, sir. This is Gul’tar – former apprentice of Ga’trul, in fact, from the initial Pandaia landing force.
EITRIGG: Did we ever find out exactly what happened with them, incidentally?
GARROSH: Not much other than being pretty well wiped out by the second wave of Alliance forces.
MALKOROK: You mean the ones that had to recruit the local fish men to fill out their ranks?
GARROSH: <sighs> Yes.
EITRIGG: Speaking of which, as well, since we’re drawing close to being ready, we might want to gather as much information as possible on the land and its peoples.
MALKOROK: I would imagine that may be a rare instance when those…preposterous new pandaren arrivals might prove useful.
GARROSH: You’ve been getting pretty close to Ji since he started playing EO, haven’t you, Mokvar? Pick up anything useful from him?
MOKVAR: Not really. Here’s the thing – Ji and all his people came from a place called the Wandering Isle, which isn’t actually part of Pandaria proper.
EITRIGG: It’s an island nearby, though, isn’t it?
MOKVAR: Well, sometimes.
EITRIGG: Sometimes?
MOKVAR: It’s technically not an island.
EITRIGG: What is it, then?
GARROSH: Hold on to your ass for this one…
MOKVAR: It’s a giant turtle.
MALKOROK: …What?
MOKVAR: The Wandering Isle is a giant turtle that swims around the ocean – usually near Pandaria, but not always. The pandaren that live there basically built a whole civilization on its back. A lot of them don’t even know the truth about the “island.”
MALKOROK: <grumbling> Warchief… I suspect your…scribe here may be providing faulty intelligence.
GARROSH: No, I got this same story about the Wandering Islse from Ji.
MALKOROK: This would be the same pandaren who appears to be forever getting himself stuck in tight openings in the pursuit of food?
EITRIGG: So I assume that since the Huojin live separately from the Pandaren mainland…?
MOKVAR: They haven’t had any contact with the place in generations. No help there as far as providing useful information.
GARROSH: I guess we’ll have to get by on what we’re able to learn from Nazgrim and Krog, then.
MOKVAR: While I’m thinking of it, though, Ji was asking me earlier about what’s going on in Ragefire Chasm. I guess he had a few of his people go down there—
MALKOROK: Is this really important enough to interrupt our planning, scribe? You can’t seriously think the confusion of those perpetually confused bear people is more relevant than the imminent invasion.
MOKVAR: I was just wondering—
MALKOROK: Wonder all you want, scribe, just do it quietly. Now then…
Vol’jin enters.
VOL’JIN: Hey, mon, sorry I be late ta da meetin’!
GARROSH: Oh fucking hell, who told him about the meeting THIS time?
VOL’JIN: Was I not supposed ta know, mon?
GARROSH: Not exactly.
VOL’JIN: Oh, was ya plannin’ a surprise party for me, mon? Is dere cake?
GARROSH: <rubbing his forehead> No, we’re not throwing you a surprise…you know what, fuck it, just sit down, Vol’jin.
VOL’JIN: Tank ya, Warchief.
Vol’jin walks over to Malkorok at the table and turns to Gul’tar.
Ya be in ma seat, mon.
GUL’TAR: I…what?
VOL’JIN: Dat seat, mon. Dat’s where I always sit. Ya be in ma spot, mon.
GARROSH: Vol’jin, does it actually matter?
VOL’JIN: Ya, mon! I’m a creature a’ habit, an’ I be feelin’ all outta sorts if I don’ sit in ma normal place! Besides…
Vol’jin claps Malkorok on the shoulder jovially; Malkorok jumps in surprise, then glares up at Vol’jin.
…Malkorok an’ me tight now, an’ I be missin’ ma buddy if I sit somewhere else!
GUL’TAR: <grumbles and turns to Malkorok> I’ll just move, sir. I would…hate to occupy the troll’s place.
Gul’tar moves over one seat. Vol’jin sits next to Malkorok. Malkorok stares at him icily for a moment; Vol’jin replies with an exaggerated grin.
GARROSH: So…back to business. What’s our latest from General Nazgrim?
EITRIGG: He and his team have recovered from their injuries and indicate they’re making inroads with some of the pandaren in the northern mountains.
VOL’JIN: Dey all make it t’rough okay?
EITRIGG: Shademaster Kiryn and Rivett Clutchpop made it fine. It seems their marksman, Shokia, is unaccounted for.
GARROSH: I wouldn’t worry too much about her…
EITRIGG: Nazgrim reports the northern pandaren are in conflict with a tauren offshoot race. He doesn’t make it sound like too dire a situation, though.
GARROSH: Not something we need to worry much about, anyway, if this is going on in the northern regions. We’ll be coming in along the southern coast.
MALKOROK: Do we have any operatives scouting the south for us, then?
EITRIGG: Just a number of volunteers who’ve been making their way around the continent of their own accord and checking in when they can.
VOL’JIN: I tink dere was a group of Baine’s people doin’ some explorin’ in da sout’ too, mon.
MALKOROK: What? Bloodhoof sent his own expedition to Pandaria?
VOL’JIN: Ya, mon. Sunwalker Dezco was leadin’ it.
MALKOROK: And why, I wonder, would he presume to send his own detachment without clearing it with Orgrimmar?
VOL’JIN: I didn’t know da tauren had to ask permission ta do tings.
MALKOROK: A loyal member of the Horde should be clearing obvious military operations with their Warchief, troll.
GARROSH: Do you want to explain why Baine apparently saw fit to tell YOU about this expedition and not ME?
VOL’JIN: <beaming> I’m a people person, mon!
MALKOROK: At best, this stinks of insubordination, Warchief. And potentially disloyalty of a far worse kind. How do we know they’re not conspiring for their own purposes?
EITRIGG: You cannot seriously think the tauren would be engaged in something illicit?
MALKOROK: I do not trust that Baine or the rest of his ilk. He’s put himself at odds with the Warchief too many times already.
VOL’JIN: Ya tink he’s disloyal, mon? I been speakin’ my mind to Garrosh, too – ya be tinkin’ I’m a traitor?
GARROSH: Not a traitor, Vol’jin, but I’ll tell you in no uncertain terms, the two of you HAVE been a grade-A pain in the ass the last few months.
MALKOROK: As far as I’m concerned, you could very well be conspiring with him on whatever he’s up to. Don’t think I’m not keeping an eye on you, troll.
VOL’JIN: Oh, don’cha be worryin’, mon. If I was ever workin’ against ya in secret, you’d know.
GARROSH: I… <rubs forehead> That…doesn’t even make sense, you stupid troll. By definition…
VOL’JIN: Besides, mon, ya don’ have ta be worryin’ about Dezco an’ his people. He even has one a da orcs wit him.
EITRIGG: Who?
VOL’JIN: Kor Bloodtusk, I tink ’is name was.
MALKOROK: A weak-minded puppet, most likely, lured over to that tauren’s misguided way of thinking.
MOKVAR: I have to say, actually—
MALKOROK: <glares> What do you want, scribe?
Mokvar looks down.
Now then—
MOKVAR: <turning back to Malkorok> What I want? I want to live just long enough to be there when they cut off your head and stick it on a pike.
Behind Malkorok, Vol’jin beams and high-fives the air in Mokvar’s direction.
Or were you looking for something a little less big-picture?
MALKOROK: <glaring> Count yourself lucky, scribe, that you’re in the Warchief’s good graces…
MOKVAR: Yeah, because you would never—
EITRIGG: Gentlemen.
GARROSH: Yeah, guys, enough. Cool your jets, both of you, we don’t have time for this crap.
MALKOROK: Of course, Warchief…
GARROSH: So, Vol’jin, now that everybody’s gotten all riled up over the tauren expedition, have we heard anything from them that would actually be USEFUL?
VOL’JIN: Da one ting I heard was dere be a lotta old ruins from an older race, dat ruled before da pandaren. I don’ know anyt’ing about ’em, but from da ruins it sounds like dey was everywhere.
EITRIGG: Hmm. Possibly worth assigning a team from the Reliquary to join the expedition to look into?
GARROSH: Yeah, maybe. This is a military operation, not an archaeology dig, but calling in some of the blood elves on this might help smooth things over with ol’ what’s-his-name. Captain Peroxide.
MOKVAR: How’s his eye doing, by the way?
GARROSH: Don’t ask.
MOKVAR: Ah.
GARROSH: Anyway… I think that covers everything for today, doesn’t it, Eitrigg?
EITRIGG: Yes, sir. I don’t think there was anything else on the agenda.
VOL’JIN: Good party as always, mon. Next one at my place!
MOKVAR: If we’re done here, I’m going to head over to the Valley of Honor. I need to catch up with Ji about a couple things.
GARROSH: Good, keep him out of trouble for a few hours.
MALKOROK: If you’ll excuse me then, Warchief, Rak’gor and I have a few arrangements to make ourselves.
VOL’JIN: Don’ forget ta pick up da cake dis time, mon.
Malkorok blinks at Vol’jin, then shakes his head as he leaves, grumbling, with Rak’gor and Gul’tar.
<chuckling to himself> Never gets old, mon, never gets old…
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Anger management
The other day I mentioned there being some meeting that Orphan Matron Battlewail wanted me to attend if I were serious about getting Gurtash. She had me check in with Social Services, which is being run by some goblins these days. Don’t ask me how that happened. But they filled in a little more of the story. They’ve got one of Ji Firepaw’s panda friends holding a kind of seminar on dealing with anger, and they’ve opened it up to anybody who wants to attend. The only catch – well, other than the fact that this whole fucking waste of time is one huge catch in itself since WTF why do these fuckers keep acting like I’ve got some kind of fucking problem with my goddamn temper or some shit – is that they want all the attendees to have someone come with them, sort of a sponsor. My first thought was to bring Malkorok, seeing as he’s technically my bodyguard and should be going places with me anyway, but then I got to thinking that this gig might not be the kind of thing that…well…let’s just say the purposes of the session might not be facilitated by having Malkorok in the room.
Plus, really, why do I need a bodyguard again? Isn’t that kind of like getting a watch dog to guard your giant rabid wolverine?
So, bottom line, I got Mokvar to come with me. Which also had the added benefit of…
Garrosh and Mokvar enter a room in which several chairs have been arranged in a circle. At the far end of the room, a middle-aged pandaren woman is talking with Eitrigg.
GARROSH: So, um, we’re here for the meeting? Not sure we’ve got the right place.
The pandaren woman, all smiles, walks over to greet them.
PANDAREN: Oh, no, you are in the right place, Warchief. It is good to see you again.
GARROSH: Yeah, you too. We’ve met?
PANDAREN: <laughs softly> Yes, a few weeks back, but I will understand if you do not remember me. You were meeting quite a few of us from the Wandering Isle that day.
GARROSH: Ah. Yeah. And to be honest, no offense, most of you pandas still sort of blend together for me.
PANDAREN: Are you saying my people all look alike to you?
GARROSH: Actually not so much all look alike as there are like six variations I can recognize.
MOKVAR: To be fair, I’m not sure we orcs are much better.
GARROSH: True enough. And the less said about the trolls the better.
MOKVAR: Well, Vol’jin stands out some.
GARROSH: Well yeah. I was going to ask the other day, actually – did he have some work done? He looks different.
MOKVAR: I was wondering that too! So I’m not the only one that noticed?
GARROSH: Dude, he sprouted an extra toe on the backs of his feet.
MOKVAR: Seriously? That’s freaky as hell.
GARROSH: I know, right? <looks back to the pandaren woman> Anyway…um…we can probably discuss this another time.
The woman smiles bemusedly.
PANDAREN: In any case, Warchief, it is good to meet you more properly now. <extends her paw> I am Ben-Lin Cloudstrider. I have been a student of meditation among our people for many years. I look forward to sharing some of these techniques with you today.
GARROSH: Yeah. Great. So listen, Ben, how long you figure this is going to take?
BEN-LIN: The session shall take as long as it takes.
GARROSH: Ah. One of those. Terrific.
MOKVAR: So, Eitrigg, what are you doing here?
GARROSH: Yeah, Eitrigg, you never struck me as having a temper.
EITRIGG: I don’t really. I’m not here for me; I’m sponsoring a friend. He just hasn’t gotten here yet.
GARROSH: Ah, okay. Wait…hold on…a “friend”? Please don’t tell me…
Tirion Fordring enters.
TIRION: Ah, greetings, Warchief! A pleasure as always to see you once again. And doubly so, of course, for you, Eitrigg, my dear friend of many years. Far too many days have passed since last we enjoyed each other’s company…
GARROSH: <rubbing his forehead> Dude, you just saw him a few weeks ago. I know. I was there.
TIRION: Perhaps! Perhaps, good Warchief! And perhaps indeed the calendar might insist that the interval has been short – but the spirit, my friend, the spirit tells me the time has been long! For surely, good Garrosh, you know of those times when the moments feel far longer than the clock might otherwise claim.
GARROSH: <still rubbing his forehead> All too well, Tirion…
MOKVAR: Eitrigg, I’m still not sure I understand. Tirion never struck me as very temperamental either.
Eitrigg, standing behind Tirion, makes a drinking motion with his hand.
Ah. Got it.
BEN-LIN: It appears more of our attendees are arriving. I should introduce myself, if you will pardon me a moment.
Ben-Lin steps toward the door, where Lor’themar Theron enters, accompanied by Liadrin. While Ben-Lin talks to them, Faranell enters and walks over to Garrosh and Mokvar.
GARROSH: Hey, Doc.
FARANELL: Hey.
MOKVAR: You’re here for the meeting too, Edwin?
FARANELL: Mmhmm. As soon as I heard about this, I cleared my schedule for this afternoon.
MOKVAR: I didn’t know you had anger issues.
FARANELL: I don’t.
Faranell sits down and takes out a large bag of popcorn.
Lor’themar and Liadrin leave Ben-Lin and approach Garrosh et al. Ben-Lin circles around and talks with Tirion and Eitrigg in the background.
MOKVAR: Hey Liadrin.
LIADRIN: Hello, Mokvar. Edwin. Warchief.
GARROSH: Hey, Liadrin. Who’s your friend? Is he sponsoring you or something?
LOR’THEMAR: You see? YOU SEE? This is EXACTLY what I was talking about! Every time! EVERY SINGLE TIME! No matter HOW many damn times I meet them, the NEXT time it’s always “Oh, so who’s this guy?”
LIADRIN: Now now, try to calm down, sir…
GARROSH: Okay, standing corrected on who’s sponsoring who here.
LIADRIN: This has been a long time coming, frankly.
GARROSH: Yeah, fine, but seriously, who IS he?
LOR’THEMAR: <shaking Garrosh violently> I’M LOR’THEMAR THERON, YOU PEA-BRAINED, MOUTH-BREATHING OAF! RULER OF SILVERMOON! LEADER OF THE BLOOD ELVES! I BUILT YOU A DAMN MANA BOMB TO COMMIT WAR CRIMES WITH, YOU IGNORANT VULGARIAN!
GARROSH: <shoving Lor’themar back> YOU’RE the vulgarian, you fuck!
FARANELL: <munching on popcorn> So much better than doing culture samples with Zinge.
LOR’THEMAR: How DIFFICULT is it to remember WHO SOMEONE IS after you MEET THEM FOR THE TWENTIETH TIME?!
GARROSH: Apparently VERY, when the someone in question isn’t frigging IMPORTANT enough to be REMEMBERED, Ponytail!
MOKVAR: He blew up about this on our game the other day, actually.
LIADRIN: I heard.
MOKVAR: Has he been at it all this time?
LIADRIN: More or less. This is something he’s been bottling up for a while, really.
Ben-Lin returns to the group, with Tirion and Eitrigg close behind.
BEN-LIN: If we might all find our seats. The last few should arrive shortly.
Everyone settles into the chairs.
Good afternoon, all of you, and thank you for coming today. I am Ben-Lin Cloudstrider of the Huojin Pandaren, and I will be conducting today’s session. My people chose to join the Horde in large part because of our shared belief in confronting challenges directly, and it is in that spirit that I would like to commend each of you for coming here today. By choosing to attend, you have demonstrated your recognition of an enemy of sorts within yourselves, and your resolve to face and defeat that enemy.
GARROSH: Pfft, I don’t know about these people, but I got railroaded by the orphan matron. Screw this personal-growth hippie bullshit.
LOR’THEMAR: Same here. <nods head toward Liadrin> This one twisted my arm.
GARROSH: Personally I think the whole thing is a load of crap.
MOKVAR: Would it really kill you to just bite your tongue and humor people this one time?
LIADRIN: <sighs> I wonder what it would be like if some of our leaders were actually adults…
BEN-LIN: Ah. I am sensing resistance from some of you. This is unfortunate. I hope you will come to see the merit of our activities as we go along. Let us begin by each introducing ourselves and telling the group why we are here.
She turns to Faranell.
Let us begin with you. Would you like to introduce yourself to the group, my friend?
FARANELL: <tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth> It would make my life complete.
BEN-LIN: <unfazed> Delightful. Please go on.
FARANELL: Yeah, fine. Hey. I’m Edwin. Most of you already know that. All of you, actually, so good use of time here. Don’t mind me, I’m just here for the LOL’s.
BEN-LIN: <blinks> Ah. I see.
She turns hesitantly and looks to Tirion.
And you, sir?
TIRION: Thank you, Lady Cloudstrider, many thanks indeed, both for your gracious greeting and for your generosity in offering up your valuable time – time very much in demand, I have no doubt, among your people – in arranging this gathering for the benefit of all here. And a great honor, and, indeed, blessing it is to find myself today amid this honored company, for as I look about the room I find my gaze met by the faces of many of the most esteemed of our respective peoples…
GARROSH: Oh man. He’s ON today…
TIRION: And so, in keeping with your request, noble Lady Cloudstrider, allow me to introduce myself. I am Tirion Fordring, Highlord of the Argent Crusade, Knight of the Silver Hand, master of Mardenholde Keep, bearer of the secred Ashbringer—
GARROSH: Murderer of Wills to Live…
TIRION: —and I find myself here today among you at the recommendation of my dear friend, the noble and sage orc Eitrigg, who suggested this gathering might prove valuable to me, both for my personal growth and likewise in allaying the oft-expressed concerns of some number of my Argent colleagues, such as the hallowed Confessor Palteress and my personal aide, the noble Miss Daria L’Rayne…
The door to the room opens, and Hamuul Runetotem leans in.
HAMUUL: Excuse me, is this the anger management seminar?
BEN-LIN: Indeed it is, my friend.
HAMUUUL: Ah, good. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.
GARROSH: Yes, you are, and thank goodness.
BEN-LIN: Please come in.
Hamuul steps into the room, holding the door open, and waves outside.
HAMUUL: Come on in, it’s the right place.
A nervous-looking Mylune enters.
BEN-LIN: <glancing down at a clipboard> Ah, you must be the two from Mount Hyjal.
HAMUUL: Yes. I’m Hamuul Runetotem, and this is my…colleague Mylune.
GARROSH: Oh man. Hide your kittens…
MYLUNE: <perks up> There are kittens?
GARROSH: Oh yeah, loads of them in the Cleft of Kittens.
MYLUNE: Ooh! Ooh! There’s a Cleft of Kittens? Where’s that?
GARROSH: Right at the southern end of the Valley of Ridiculous Hallucinations – it’s fucking ORGRIMMAR. What the hell do you think this is?
MYLUNE: <deflated> Oh. I thought there might be kittens…
HAMUUL: Perhaps just as well, given your recent…episode.
MYLUNE: <slumps her head and closes her eyes> I don’t know what you’re talking about.
HAMUUL: Mylune, we’ve already talked about your trying to block these things out.
MYLUNE: No no, I’m not blocking it out! Blocking what out? See? Happy face! Happy face! Oh, everything’s so wonderful and magical and whee! And…and…
She looks around quickly and grabs up a small scorpion that’s skittering along the ground.
And ooh, hello Mr. Scorpid, aren’t you a tough little prickly darling! <hugs the scorpion to her bosom> Auntie Luney sure is happy to see you! Yes she is! Yes she—oww! OWW! Dammit, that stings like HELL, you stupid pinchy ASSHOLE!
Mylune throws the scorpion viciously against the wall.
It wasn’t even that cute!
GARROSH: So… I take it that time in Mulgore wasn’t an isolated incident…?
HAMUUL: Not as such.
MYLUNE: Oh…oh no, no, no… I did it again! <sobbing> Why do I keep doing that? <putting her hands over her face as the sobbing continues>
HAMUUL: There there…
BEN-LIN: It is all right. You are among friends now.
GARROSH: Well let’s not get carried away.
MYLUNE: <rubbing one hand on her chest> That still kind of stings a little, actually…
BEN-LIN: We are here to help you. Have you had other moments like this recently?
MYLUNE: I…well…I was in Winterspring a few days ago…and there were these bunnies…and…and…
GARROSH: Not so much with the bunnies anymore, I’m guessing.
MYLUNE: I couldn’t help it! I just wanted to pet them, and… <rubs her chest again> Okay, you know what? I think that scorpion might have been venomous.
Hamuul sighs and starts casting healing spells on Mylune.
HAMUUL: Seriously? You have venomous scorpions just wandering around?
GARROSH: Hey, I don’t usually figure people are going to go around rubbing them on their boobs.
MOKVAR: Did you really have to give me that mental image?
GARROSH: I mean we usually don’t have people around here showing that level of stupid. And that’s even figuring how much time Dontrag and Utvoch spend here.
LOR’THEMAR: Who?
GARROSH: You’re better off not knowing.
LIADRIN: Really, sir.
BEN-LIN: Perhaps we should move on. <turns to Lor’themar> Let us turn to you now. You are…?
LOR’THEMAR: Ugh. See? SEE? THIS is EXACTLY what I’m talking about! I introduced myself to you not TEN MINUTES AGO! But does anyone remember something like that? NO! OF COURSE NOT!
LIADRIN: Sir, I think she was just asking you to—
LOR’THEMAR: Don’t defend her, Liadrin! People do this every damn day, and there’s always some excuse for them! Either that, or it’s just “Oh, okay. Lor’themar? Whatever.” YES, whatever. It’s LOR’THEMAR! LOR’THEMAR FUCKING THERON, Regent-Lord of Quel’Thalas! That’s who I am! Lor’themar! Do you hear me? All of you? LOR’THE-FUCKING-MAR! One of the only racial leaders on either side who hasn’t managed to make a complete cluster fuck of something yet, but does anyone remember? NO! NO THEY DON’T!
BEN-LIN: Well then. I was going to ask you why you are here, but I think you have already answered that. So let us move on. <turns to Garrosh> And you, sir?
GARROSH: Huh? Oh, yeah. <waves half-heartedly> So yeah, Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde. Son of Grom, slayer of Alliance, writer of EPIC VERSE, eater of lemon squares, yadda yadda.
HAMUUL: Wait, he writes poetry?
MOKVAR: He’s actually surprisingly good at it.
BEN-LIN: And why have you come here today, my friend?
GARROSH: Humoring the orphan matron, pretty much. Didn’t we already cover this? She basically said I needed to attend this thing before she would sign off on this orphan I was looking into maybe adopting.
LIADRIN: Wait, what?
EITRIGG: Adopting?
HAMUUL: Oh spirits help us…
GARROSH: WHY does everybody fucking react like that every time I mention this? I talked about it on my blog, too, and all the commenters were like “Holy crap no!”
HAMUUL: Wait, he blogs, too?
FARANELL: <munching> I so should have brought some ale for this.
Tirion passes Faranell a flask.
Oh, hey, thanks.
EITRIGG: I thought we’d agreed you were going to hold off on the… <makes a drinking motion with his hand> …while we were here for the meeting.
TIRION: Surely, friend Eitrigg, you would not deny me a simple bracing beverage before an undertaking that calls upon my resolve.
EITRIGG: Now we both know the “liquid courage” excuse doesn’t hold here, Tirion.
GARROSH: So hold up, you mean Highlord Paragraph here likes to retreat into the bottle, and goes all angry drunk and shit?
EITRIGG: And sometimes ends up burning small animals as a result…
MYLUNE: He WHAT?!
TIRION: My fine and noble friend, I would remind you that the episode with the penguins was, in broad, strokes, an isolated incident, and—
MYLUNE: Penguins?!
BEN-LIN: Now you see, here we may have a fine instructive moment. While we may all have our moments of anger, it is when we allow that anger to manifest in actions that we risk unleashing the worst upon the loved ones around us…
MYLUNE: <fidgeting nervously and looking to Hamuul> Pen…penguins! What did he do to the penguins…?!
EITRIGG: Suffice to say it involved a cane.
BEN-LIN: And so, when you experience these moments, Tirion, you must remember to use your words.
GARROSH: Wait, seriously?
TIRION: Sage counsel indeed, good Lady Cloudstrider, and perhaps you are right, and I have been far too reticent…
GARROSH: Fucking hell, do you realize what you’re DOING, lady?
MYLUNE: He…he…he attacked the poor penguins with a cane?
EITRIGG: Far better than the kittens got…
TIRION: My dear Eitrigg, you know perfectly well that I take little pride in the unfortunate incident involving the, shall we say, premature feline incendiaries, and—
MYLUNE: Incendi— you burned kittens?!
GARROSH: Yeah, bet you’re glad we don’t have any here now, aren’t you? Not safe to have them around Captain Shortfuse Longwind here.
MYLUNE: <trembling with eyes growing large and dewy> Hamuul, did you hear that? He…he…the kittens…he…
Hamuul pulls a teddy bear out of his pack and dangles it in front of Mylune, who immediately snatches it up.
Oh oh oh what a cute cuddly fuzzy huggy teddy bear squee!
LOR’THEMAR: Wow she’s unstable…
GARROSH: Look in a mirror lately, blondie? Who are you to judge?
LOR’THEMAR: <jumping up and knocking his chair over> Who am I? WHO AM I? LOR’THEMAR THERON, that’s who! LOR’THE-FUCKING-MAR THERON!
LIADRIN: Sir, really, you should try to—
LOR’THEMAR: You stay out of this, Liadrin! I’ve HAD IT with this walking jaw with a gym card acting like he doesn’t fucking KNOW me!
GARROSH: I know you’ll snap in half nice and easy if you don’t figure out a way to ZIP it right quick, Hair-Care!
MYLUNE: <swaying from side to side while hugging the tebby bear> Oh don’t listen to them, Mr. Huggles, it’s okay, it’s okay! You just be all sweet and snuggly and don’t worry about the mean people!
LOR’THEMAR: Why don’t you MAKE me zip it! Or do you need damn BOMB to drop on me for that?!
GARROSH: I’ll SHOW you a fucking BOMB, Ponytail!
Garrosh lunges at Lor’themar and flings him violently against the wall. Lor’themar pulls himself up and tries to rush back at Garrosh, only to have Garrosh grab him and put him in a headlock. Mokvar and Liadrin pull at Garrosh’s arm to try to loosen his grip.
MOKVAR: Really, boss, not helping your own cause here…
GARROSH: Hope you weren’t too fond of that frigging OXYGEN, Lor’the-Whatever-the-Fuck-Your-Name-Is!
LOR’THEMAR: <wrenching himself out of Garrosh’s hold and swinging at him wildly> LOR’THEMAR! MY NAME IS LOR’THEMAR! SAY IT! SAY IT! SAY MY NAME, BITCH!
Mylune is still rocking back and forth, holding the teddy bear while trembling.
MYLUNE: Now now don’t you let them upset you, Mr. Huggles… <absently rips off one of the teddy bear’s ears> It’s okay…it’s all okay… They’re not mad at you, no no, they’re not… <rips off the bear’s other ear, sobbing> It’s all going to be okay someday, I promise, Huggles, Auntie Luney promises…!
FARANELL: <mouth half-full of popcorn> I love this meeting so much I want to marry it and have a family of little caucuses.
LOR’THEMAR: I’m SICK AND TIRED of being IGNORED by this damn GORILLA!
Mokvar and Liadrin try with mixed success to pull the two away from each other.
GARROSH: Don’t worry, metro, you’ll be getting PLENTY of attention while I’m smearing you all over the floor!
LOR’THEMAR: Stop holding him back! I’m not scared of him! I can take him! Unless maybe he’s POISONED his DAMN AXE again!
GARROSH: OH you will DIE EXTRA SLOW for—
Tirion jumps Garrosh and Lor’themar and pushes them away from each other. He looks back and forth sternly.
TIRION: Gentlemen, please! Surely no one can benefit from our turning on each other in such a way. Now then… <looks back and forth between Garrosh and Lor’themar again> Let’s have a drink. And calm down.
EITRIGG: <sighs> Tirion…
BEN-LIN: It occurs to me that perhaps our goals would be better served by a few one-on-one sessions before we attempt to discuss our issues in a group…
Mylune suddenly grabs Ben-Lin from behind and hugs her back against herself.
MYLUNE: Ohhhh has anyone ever told you you’re like a big giant warm fuzzy snuggly teddy bear yourself, Miss Cloudy-bear?
BEN-LIN: <looking around somewhat panicked, but clearly trying to maintain her composure> So…with that in mind…let us adjourn for the day. I will be in touch with each of you to arrange individual meetings. We…we have much work to do…
LIADRIN: Come on, sir, let’s just go back to Silvermoon…
Liadrin drags Lor’themar out of the room. The others begin to make their way out as well, except for Mylune, who continues hugging Ben-Lin.
MYLUNE: So huggly and cuddly and so so adorable! I could just squeeze you all day, little bear!
Faranell gets up and walks over to Ben-Lin and Mylune on his way toward the door.
FARANELL: So, I’m going to give you my contact info… Please, please tell me if there are any more of these meetings. I will buy a ticket if I need to.
This has got to be some kind of a hazing thing. Or Battlewail is doing some kind of weird trial to test my resolve, to see just how serious I am about the Gurtash thing.
Gotta tell you, though, if I have to go hang out with that crew again, I’m not sure I like even that kid enough…
More soon.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Invasion incoming
In light of the reports coming in from both Nazgrim and Krog from Pandaria, I decided we need to step up preparations for a full-scale military operation there. Nazgrim’s been holding his own reasonably well under the circumstances…well, he WAS until this last report, anyway, and then…well, you know. Point is, he’s been trying to keep it together down there, but it’s about time we gave our general an honest-to-goodness army to work with.
So, earlier today I held a strategy session to make plans to send a full invasion force to Pandaria. We had the usual suspects there — Eitrigg, Malkorok, Mokvar to take notes. Malkorok had his lieutenant Rak’gor Bloodrazor sit in for the planning. Plus…an extra unexpected attendee, who…well, you’ll see.
Cut to the transcript.
GARROSH: First, a status update. The latest from Nazgrim is that he and his people are licking their wounds from a major battle with the Alliance forces down there. They’ve moved from the Jade Forest to a town in the northern mountains while they recover. Most of them, anyway.
EITRIGG: Are Nazgrim and his team all right?
GARROSH: Scratched up but still kicking, from what I gather. Always hard to tell with Nazgrim — he’ll never let on if he’s really hurt. You know him.
MALKOROK: I assume our forces were victorious against the Alliance dogs, as they’re alive to tell the tale?
GARROSH: Not so much. The battle was basically a stalemate.
MALKOROK: You mean to say, Warchief, that that fool Nazgrim failed not only to defeat a depleted Alliance force, but even to go down fighting like an orc? And now he has the audacity to report this disgrace from the comfort of some remote bed while he nurses his wounds like a human?
EITRIGG: Considering what Nazgrim seems to have had to work with…
MALKOROK: And now you defend his incompetence, old man?
GARROSH: Well hey, look, Malkorok. Believe me, I’m all for being tough on the troops and all that, but to be fair, Nazgrim DID lose most of his actual Horde soldiers in the crash of the Hellscream’s Fist.
MALKOROK: And proceeded to offset those losses by recruiting from among the locals, did he not?
GARROSH: Yeah, but look at the locals. I mean, dude, you know how I’m always saying it’s like I’ve got a bunch of trained monkeys working for me? <scans around the room> No offense. But yeah, Nazgrim? LITERALLY had a bunch of trained monkeys to work with.
MALKOROK: What about the Alliance?
GARROSH: What about them?
MALKOROK: The Alliance reportedly took heavy losses and drew support from the natives as well. Who did they have fighting for them?
EITRIGG: <scanning notes> I think Krog included something about this in one of his reports…
GARROSH: Something with a “J,” I think.
MOKVAR: Jinyu.
GARROSH: Yeah, that’s it, jinyu.
MOKVAR: <paging through reports> Which…from the way Krog describes them…would be a race of…sort of…king-size murlocs.
GARROSH: <blinks, then rubs forehead> …The FUCK is Nazgrim doing down there?
MALKOROK: You see?
EITRIGG: Do we know anything else about the battle with the Alliance? I will grant, it doesn’t sound like Nazgrim to flee the battlefield…
GARROSH: Nazgrim’s report was pretty sketchy on the details there. I’ve gotten some extra intel from Krog to fill it out some, though. Looks like the battle between Nazgrim’s monkeys and the Alliance fish men…
Garrosh trails off, then stares into the distance for a moment.
EITRIGG: Warchief?
MOKVAR: Garrosh?
Garrosh shakes his head and pulls his attention back.
GARROSH: Yeah. Sorry. I just heard myself saying that last part and had to take a minute to be sad. Where was I?
MOKVAR: Monkeys versus fish men.
GARROSH: Yeah. Monkeys versus fish men. So according to— I mean seriously, doesn’t that sound like a bad videogame or something?
MOKVAR: Just watch, if Spazzle isn’t coding that already, he will as soon as he reads this.
GARROSH: I know, right?
EITRIGG: Warchief…focus, please.
GARROSH: Yeah, yeah, okay… So… <sighs> …monkeys versus fish men. Which I guess took place at the foot of this huge statue in a place called Serpent’s Heart. From what I can gather, the battle was pretty even, which is kind of depressing in itself, considering, when it was broken up by the arrival of this giant black monster. Which basically wiped out both sides and left the survivors fucked up and scattered.
MALKOROK: What kind of monster could take out both armies?
GARROSH: From what Krog reported, it…
Vol’jin enters.
Hang on. What are YOU doing here, troll?
VOL’JIN: I heard dere was a meetin’ going’ on, mon. I figured mah invitation musta got lost in da mail.
GARROSH: Uh, yeah, as if I would have sent YOU an invitation for these planning sessions…
VOL’JIN: Ya see now, mon? Ya be tinkin’ a me as such a good friend, I don’ even be needin’ an invitation! Dat’s why everybody loves ya, mon.
GARROSH: <rubbing forehead> What. Do you WANT. Vol’jin?
VOL’JIN: I hear ya be plannin’ an invasion in Pandaria, mon, and I be here ta keep an eye on what ya be doin’.
GARROSH: Keep an eye on me? I don’t answer to you, troll, nor do I have to EXPLAIN myself to you, so if you’re here to make life difficult, you can just head back to your island now.
VOL’JIN: I be da leader of da Darkspear, mon, an’ I got a right ta know what da Horde be doin’.
MALKOROK: You know I can easily take care of—
GARROSH: Not now, Malkorok. <grumbles> Fine. You can sit in, Vol’jin. TRY not to make yourself into too much of a toothache.
VOL’JIN: Oh don’cha be worryin’ ’bout me, mon. Ya won’t even know I be here. It’ll be like I be invisible.
Garrosh stares at Vol’jin for a long moment, then exchanges several pensive glances with Eitrigg and Mokvar. He looks back to Vol’jin again and eyes him for another moment.
GARROSH: Okay, well—
VOL’JIN: Like da Lich King’s horse!
GARROSH: Just SIT DOWN and SHUT UP, Vol’jin.
VOL’JIN: Sure, mon.
Vol’jin takes a seat at the conference table next to Malkorok. Malkorok glances at him and sneers; Vol’jin answers with an exaggerated grin.
GARROSH: So as I was saying, like an hour ago…about the creature at Serpent’s Heart. Apparently it was something the pandas call a “sha” — sort of a demon that feeds off of powerful emotions.
VOL’JIN: <eyes narrow> You don’ say, mon…
MALKOROK: Hmm…interesting… I wonder if our warlocks could influence these sha. If they’re strong enough to take down two armies, they could be a powerful resource if harnessed…
VOL’JIN: Dat be some bad mojo ya talkin’ ’bout, mon.
MALKOROK: I thought you were going to be quiet, troll.
MOKVAR: He’s right, though — these sha don’t sound like something we want to risk meddling with.
EITRIGG: As it stands, I’m already troubled enough by some reports I’ve seen of demonic summoning by some of the initial fleet…
MOKVAR: Wait, seriously?
MALKOROK: You two would have our warlocks not avail themselves of all the power at their disposal for the benefit of the Horde?
MOKVAR: Didn’t “our warlocks” get themselves into enough trouble already “availing” themselves of demonic power?
MALKOROK: Yes, let’s have the scribe lecture us on the proper conduct of warlocks.
MOKVAR: I used to be a warlock.
MALKOROK: Oh, that’s right, you were, weren’t you? Then by all means continue, scribe. Tell us more about the evils of seeking power through demonology.
Mokvar looks back to his notes awkwardly.
GARROSH: Look, the fact is, Nazgrim doesn’t have the people or the resources to establish a strong Horde presence in Pandaria or prevent the Alliance from doing the same. I already have ships being prepared for a large-scale incursion. The southern coast of Pandaria has a few locations that sound like they’d be well-suited for a base. We can scout a specific spot while we finish gathering troops and equipment for the trip.
EITRIGG: Grizzle Gearslip of the Bilgewater goblins says the construction team should have siege engines ready within a week or so.
GARROSH: Well tell me this — when he says “a week or so,” does he mean a WEEK OR SO “week or so,” or is this a maybe-in-your-lifetime “week or so” like when those goblins “week or so”-ed their estimate on rebuilding the Orgrimmar ramparts after the Cataclysm? Which they STILL haven’t finished two years later, by the way.
VOL’JIN: So we be doin’ dis, eh mon? Bringin’ da war to dis new land?
MALKOROK: The war has already been brought, troll. We now bring only victory.
GARROSH: Once the equipment and siege engines are ready, it’s just a matter of lining up troop deployments.
MALKOROK: Most able-bodied adults not otherwise committed to important duties have been conscripted for service, Warchief. Rak’gor and I are in the process of assigning veteran supervisors to the new trainee program as well.
EITRIGG: What trainee program is this? I haven’t heard anything about it.
MALKOROK: Nor would you. It’s a Kor’kron program.
EITRIGG: I didn’t realize the Kor’kron operated in secret now. Has Saurfang adopted some new policy?
MALKOROK: <visibly annoyed> The program…is for recruiting and training of orcish youth for service to the Horde, as per the Warchief’d edict after the Northwatch Hold…events.
EITRIGG: Orcish youth? What age do you mean?
MALKOROK: I shouldn’t need to tell you the traditional age of passage, old man. Fourteen — the age a youth is fit to take a blade for the honor of his clan.
VOL’JIN: By da spirits, mon, dey be children!
MALKOROK: A boy is a man the day he can slay a foe in defense of home and kin, troll. I wouldn’t expect you to understand such things.
VOL’JIN: Yah, mon, I really don’ get out much. Ya know, I don’ get invited to da cool kid parties.
GARROSH: Can’t imagine why.
MALKOROK: Nevertheless…don’t make it out as if the trainees are being handed swords and pushed blindly onto a battlefield — they are being trained and guided by some of our finest warriors. If anything, this is an honor.
GARROSH: Fourteen, though, huh? I thought it was fifteen.
MALKOROK: No, Warchief, fourteen.
GARROSH: Are you certain? I’m pretty sure it was always fifteen back in Nagrand.
MALKOROK: No, sir. I suppose that might have been a regional difference?
GARROSH: Huh, okay. Fourteen, then.
VOL’JIN: I don’ be likin’ da sound a dis, mon. Not one bit a it. Draggin’ our war into other people’s lands, roundin’ up children ta make inta soldiers…
GARROSH: Well imagine my surprise, Vol’jin. Imagine my complete and total SHOCK to see YOU griping and complaining about what I’m doing. You know, I might actually LISTEN to some of these objections of yours if you didn’t object to EVERY SINGLE THING I do.
VOL’JIN: Maybe if ya listened once in a while before ya did dese tings, mon, ya wouldn’t have to listen to people complainin’ after ya did ’em.
MALKOROK: I don’t hear anyone complaining except for you, troll. Other than that simpering tauren you usually have leading you by the nose. I’m half surprised he’s not here as well.
VOL’JIN: I drew da short straw, mon.
GARROSH: All right, enough of this. Both of you quiet down. It’s settled — we’re moving ahead with the Pandaria plan and getting ready for a departure within the next few weeks. And TROLL, get this into your head: this is happening. And I have no intention of listening to you bellyache every step of the way.
VOL’JIN: Don’cha worry ’bout dat, mon. If dere be one ting I know by now, it’s dat you ain’t gonna listen.
GARROSH: Damn right. You’re finally getting it. Okay then… I think that covers everything. I have another meeting I need to get to in the Drag in a few. For now, let’s get things rolling gathering materials and finalizing troop assignments for the invasion. Oh, and Eitrigg?
EITRIGG: Yes, sir?
GARROSH: When we compile the final roster, for the love of the spirits, make sure Dontrag and Utvoch aren’t on the list.
EITRIGG: Yes, sir.
GARROSH: There are going to be enough potential headaches as it is on this mission — the last thing I’m going to need it THOSE two yammering in my ear.
VOL’JIN: Oh, hey, mon…
GARROSH: Oh for fuck’s sake… What now?
VOL’JIN: You talkin’ bout dem two orcs who got to Orgrimmar late after da Theramore raid?
GARROSH: Yeah, you know them?
VOL’JIN: Yah, mon, dey came by da Echo Isles after dat. Dey was getting deyselves all confused, mon.
GARROSH: “Confused” has a short ramp-up time for them.
VOL’JIN: No, but listen, mon — dey was like, “It be de Echo Isles, right? Den how come we can’t hear an echo when we talk?” An’ dey kep’ tryin’ ta yell stuff into da air to see if dey could get an echo!
GARROSH: <chortles> Oh…dude…that’s like the time I was saying something to them about Razorfen Kraul, and they were like, “So do all the quillboar there crawl? We thought they knew how to walk upright. Is it some kind of a rule there?”
VOL’JIN: <laughing> Ya better not let dem go to da Howling Fjord, mon, dey might tink dey’re losing dey hearing ’cause dey don’ hear da howling!
GARROSH: <chuckling> Well hell, you should have seen them the first time they saw Thousand Needles. “Are you sure it’s a thousand of them? I only counted like 60. Did we miss some?”
VOL’JIN: <laughs more> You shoulda told ’em we switched to da metric system, mon.
Garrosh guffaws, leaning against the table. Vol’jin laughs heartily as well and wipes a tear from one eye. After another moment spent laughing, Garrosh and Vol’jin look up at each other and both of their faces fade into uneasy expressions.
GARROSH: <scowls> Fucking troll.
VOL’JIN: <aside, muttering> Don’ blame me, mon, I voted for da basic campfire…
Garrosh and Vol’jin both get up and stomp out of the room in opposite directions.
Membership drive
Well look at that — that didn’t take long at all. Like I mentioned last time, Korga Strongmane had sent word that he was going to try to arrange for some of the pandaren to make the trip to Orgrimmar to pledge themselves to the Horde. Which first of all, nice job with the recruiting and public relations there, Korga. Nice to see at least SOME of the tauren are getting with the program. And now, I just got a followup message from Korga this morning saying that the first wave of pandaren recruits are on their way and should be in Orgrimmar today.
So I’m sure it’s no shock to anyone who read my last post that I was pretty excited about getting to meet these pandaren. They’ve got a pretty badass reputation, for one, and it’ll also be good to add some new blood to the mix — new recruits drawn almost immediately out of this new culture we’re encountering for the first time. Just take a second and think about how THAT goes down: these pandaren are going about their business, they’ve had their own thing going for thousands of years, then the Horde shows up for like five minutes and they’re like, “Oh hey, shit, I wanna go with THESE guys!” Because the Horde is JUST THAT AWESOME. That’s how we roll. Ha! See? You don’t see the fucking ALLIANCE pulling off shit like that. You don’t see any of these badass martial-arts-rocking pandaren lining up to drop everything and go sign on with fucking VARIAN. HORDE PRIDE, baby!
Okay, hang on a second, Eitrigg is trying to tell me something.
MOTHER FUCKER.
Okay so I guess you DO see that shit happening, because APPARENTLY there was also a bunch of pandaren who went and joined the Alliance. And what the FUCK is up with THAT? I guess some of the pandaren are easily impressed or some shit.
Son of a BITCH.
Okay, whatever. This throws a big ol’ monkey wrench into my “Welcome to the Horde” speech I was going to give them, but fuck it. I’ll just improvise something on the fly. Should be fine. Meanwhile, the pandaren who DON’T have their heads up their asses, and their leader Ji Firepaw, should be here any time now. This should be interesting. I’ll post again soon to let you all know how it goes.
P.S. Fuck you, Varian.
West Azeroth Story, Act 2
The curtain rises to reveal Grommash Hold, where Garrosh is conferring with Eitrigg and Malkorok.
EITRIGG: I still do not like this plan, Warchief. Thrall would never—
MALKOROK: Thrall is not here, old man.
EITRIGG: No…indeed he is not.
GARROSH: This battle will secure the supremacy of the Horde on this continent, Eitrigg, and do it without any loss of men or material.
EITRIGG: If you succeed, Warchief. If you do not—
GARROSH: Do you doubt that I can defeat that human, Eitrigg?
MALKORK: Rest assured, old man, the Warchief will prevail. And even if the impossible happens…well, suffice to say: We are the Horde. Even when we lose, we win.
EITRIGG: What is that supposed to—?
Garona runs in.
GARONA: Warchief! I’ve just returned from Blackrock Mountain!
MALKOROK: What were you doing there, rogue?
GARROSH: I sent her, Malkorok.
GARONA: I investigated, just as you asked, Garrosh.
MALKOROK: What could you possibly have to investigate in that place?
GARROSH: Mokvar.
MALKOROK: That scribe?
EITRIGG: What would Mokvar be doing in Blackrock Mountain?
GARROSH: Good question. What WAS he doing there, Garona?
GARONA: Meeting the human woman, Warchief.
GARROSH: <grumbles> I was afraid of that. What did you find out?
GARONA: I wasn’t able to hear much. Something about someone being untouchable…and assassins…
GARROSH: Assassins?
GARONA: I could make out Mokvar saying they would both be in trouble if anyone found out about them…
MALKORK: The bastard spoke true there.
GARONA: And I think they’re planning to meet again.
GARROSH: Oh good, another rendezvous for the lovebirds…
MALKOROK: More like conspirators, Warchief. Traitors!
EITRIGG: But traitors to whom, if they’re afraid of angering both Horde and Alliance?
MALKOROK: That insipid notetaker was already a traitor the moment he set his gaze on that pink-skinned harlot!
GARONA: He certainly seemed concerned about her welfare.
MALKOROK: He should worry more about his own.
EITRIGG: I would remind you, we still don’t really know what Mokvar is doing.
GARROSH: We know enough to put me in a rotten mood. It would have been bad enough if he were merely having some…revolting affair with this human. But the thought that they might be up to something more than that makes my head spin.
{I FEEL CRANKY}
GARROSH:
I feel cranky,
And quite frankly,
Hanky-panky is rankly dismissed.
And I’ll thank ye
Not to get me any further pissed.I feel surly,
My head’s swirly,
Not too early for a burly street brawl.
And quite surely
Tonight Varian is going to fall.See this angry orc in the war room here?
Wonder how he got so enraged.
Such a cranky mood,
Such a cranky face—GARONA:
Such a—
GARROSH:
Shut up, you,
I won’t be upstaged!I feel vengeful
And vindictive
My revenge will be strict; give this vibe:
I’m betrayed
By a frankly traitorous scribe!EITRIGG:
Will you reconsider this, Warchief?
We do not know nearly enough.
You’ll just set yourself up for more grief;
For all we know, Mokvar’s just affecting a bluff.You think he’s allured?
You think you’re betrayed?
How can we be sure
What game he has played?I plead with you, sir –
You’re so full of wrath.
You once relieved Krom’gar;
Don’t follow his path.MALKOROK:
Keep silent, old man,
Lest you suffer!
That scribe has done
More than enough, sir.Deceitful and vain,
Disloyal as well;
His open disdain
He’s proven full well!GARROSH:
I feel vicious,
And malicious.
This seditious orc surely will pay.
And my wish is
I could get my hands on him today.GARONA:
La la la la…
GARROSH:
I feel spiteful.
I feel hostile.
But tonight we’ll accost all our foes.
While you flank me,
I’ll give Varian one on the nose.GARONA:
La la la la…
GARROSH:
See this angry orc in the war room here?
MALKOROK:
Yes, sir, rightly so!
GARROSH:
You know how he got so pissed off.
EITRIGG:
Sir, I still say—
GARROSH:
Such a cranky mood,
Such a cranky face—EITRIGG:
Please, sir, think again—
GARROSH:
Don’t make me scoff!
MALKOROK: Hah!
GARROSH:
Now I’ll partake,
Feel my rage burn;
Soon Mokvar’ll take a turn for the worst.
But tonight
The Alliance is getting theirs first.MALKOROK: Hah! Music to my ears indeed, sir! Tonight the Alliance finally pays for their insolence, and then we can deal with that insipid, traitorous scribe!
GARROSH: Come along, Malkorok, let’s gather the others and begin the march to the Barrens.
MALKOROK: Of course, Warchief.
GARROSH: Eitrigg, watch over Orgrimmar in our absence. We’ll return soon enough for the first of many victory celebrations.
Garrosh and Malkorok exit.
EITRIGG: <watching them go> I do not know if it was a curse or a blessing that Grom did not live to know his son…
GARONA: The Alliance would be only too happy to wipe us out as well, Eitrigg. Don’t forget how many times Varian has called us monsters.
EITRIGG: And I do not object to defending ourselves against him. But I would prefer not to do so by proving him right.
Mokvar enters.
Mokvar!
GARONA: You!
MOKVAR: Eitrigg, I need to—
Mokvar slumps over as Garona darts around and saps him from behind.
EITRIGG: Garona, what are you doing?!
GARONA: Incapacitating the traitor before he has a chance to—
EITRIGG: To what? Write us a mean letter?
GARONA: Garrosh would have wanted us to—
EITRIGG: Garrosh isn’t here. And we have long since gotten out of the habit of honoring the wishes of our Warchiefs in their absence.
Eitrigg eyes Mokvar carefully.
I would like to hear what he has to say for himself.
A dim spotlight, stage left, illuminates Garrosh and Malkorok marching through Orgrimmar gathering Liadrin, Faranell, Dontrag, Utvoch, and other assorted Horde mainstays.
A moment after the Horde activities come into view, a second dim spotlight, stage right, illuminates Deliana talking in pantomime with Jaina Proudmoore in a Theramore tower. An additional spotlight below them shows Varian making his way among Alliance troops, gathering some – Falstad Wildhammer, Mathias Shaw, Shandris Feathermoon – to join him, while directing others – Horran Redmane, Marcus Jonathan, Tarlen Aubrey – to posts within Theramore.
At center stage, Mokvar regains consciousness and looks around, briefly disoriented.
MOKVAR: I would ask what that was for, but I think I already know that the answer would be.
GARONA: Shouldn’t you be in Blackrock Spire with your lady friend?
MOKVAR: So I’m guessing Deliana and I weren’t the only ones in Blackrock.
GARONA: Sorry if I was spoiling your privacy.
EITRIGG: Garona, enough.
GARONA: Ugh, fine.
MOKVAR: Has Garrosh heard?
EITRIGG: Indeed. You’re fortunate he’s already left for the Barrens…
MOKVAR: So, how pissed is he, on a scale of one to…well…one to Garrosh…?
GARONA: Right now I’d say he’s hovering around Garrosh squared.
MOKVAR: Crap.
GARONA: Seriously. He did a whole musical number about it.
EITRIGG: It likely doesn’t help matters that he has that blasted Malkorok fanning the flames for him.
MOKVAR: Yeah, that’s part of the problem – why I was going to see Deliana in the first place. Well, mostly.
EITRIGG: Mokvar, who is this woman?
MOKVAR: An old friend, from years before I came to Orgrimmar. She and I were in a mercenary company called the Veiled Blade. Years ago, we were hired for a mission in Blackrock Spire. We fought one of Nefarian’s lieutenants there, a drakonid called Lord Valthalak. We killed him…mostly…but after we made off with our loot, his spirit sent spectral assassins after us. That’s when Deliana and I went into hiding – me in Orgrimmar, her in Ironforge.
EITRIGG: And the rest of your group?
MOKVAR: Dead. Mostly, anyway.
EITRIGG: What business do you have with her now? And why all the secrecy?
MOKVAR: Other than her being a human and us being at war?
EITRIGG: I’m not unfamiliar with unlikely friendships.
MOKVAR: I’d thought we’d laid this Valthalak business to rest years ago, but now it looks like those spectral assassins are on the move again. We have no idea why, but we’ve been trying to find out.
EITRIGG: I wish you’d come to us with this first, Mokvar. Garrosh has come to consider you a friend, but the news of you sneaking off to meet with this human…
MOKVAR: Yeah, I know…
EITRIGG: He’s grown belligerent enough of late, with precious few to counter the whispers of that Malkorok urging him headlong into foolish confrontations.
MOKVAR: And that’s the other part of this, Eitrigg.
EITRIGG: What is?
MOKVAR: Malkorok. We’ve met before. <long sigh> In Blackrock Spire.
EITRIGG: You what?
MOKVAR: He can’t be trusted, Eitrigg. I know he has Garrosh’s ear, and that…that’s a problem.
EITRIGG: Mokvar, by the spirits, why haven’t you said anything? Do you have any idea how many of us have prayed for some way to convince Garrosh not to listen to that monster?
MOKVAR: That’s…a long story.
EITRIGG: Right now I don’t think we have much time for it. Garrosh and the devil on his shoulder are on their way to the Barrens now… Mokvar, whatever is in your past, you’ve been nothing but an honorable man since I’ve known you. Answer me: How sure are you about Malkorok? That he’s not to be trusted?
MOKVAR: Rend trusted him all those years ago. And I can tell you for a certainty – he shouldn’t have.
EITRIGG: I was already worried about his role in this spirits-forsaken challenge…
GARONA: You think he has some secret agenda?
MOKVAR: I wouldn’t put it past him.
EITRIGG: Then someone has to intervene. Mokvar, you have to get down there. I know Garrosh won’t be happy to see you, but if he’s walking into something…
MOKVAR: I know.
GARONA: I’ll go with you. Maybe he’ll listen to me.
MOKVAR: Does he ever listen to you?
GARONA: Hey, at least he hasn’t declared his desire to brutally murder me in glorious song in the last fifteen minutes, how about you?
MOKVAR: Also, weren’t you the one ready to stunlock and kill me yourself just a few minutes ago?
GARONA: Yes. And if it turns out that you’re lying, I still can.
MOKVAR: Reassuring.
GARONA: Right now, I can either trust you or not. If I trust you, and I’m wrong, I’ll still be there to stop you and kill you – and don’t think I won’t. But if I ignore you now, and I’m wrong…
EITRIGG: We’re losing valuable time. Hurry, both of you…
MOKVAR: We will. Thanks, Eitrigg.
EITRIGG: You can thank me by not proving me a sentimental old fool for trusting my instincts on you. Go quickly now – lok’tar.
MOKVAR: Lok’tar.
GARONA: Ogar.
Mokvar and Garona exist and Eitrigg begins to pace the room as the lights dim and the curtain closes.
{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 3…}
Casualties of war
We’re still holding tight at Northwatch Hold…for more reasons than one. The second phase of the plan is ready to go, not least of all because of some clutch last-minute work by the goblins and blood elves, and all that’s left is for me to give the go-ahead.
Not yet, though. Waiting a little more could end up helping in a couple ways. One, it ultimately puts a few pieces in even better position for the Theramore plan. And two, it gives that much more time for these time tremors to kick in and save us the trouble of even dealing with what’s happening here in the first place.
Not that anyone here actually knows about any of that. Well, ALMOST no one knows about it, anyway. Mokvar knows the story with the time flashes, obviously – I haven’t said anything about my own take on them, although it wouldn’t sock me if he’s guessed, after last time. And Malkorok knows some of what’s coming strategically for Theramore. Or might be, if I decide to pull the trigger. He’s been an advocate for it, even while I’ve been on the fence myself.
Baine and Vol’jin, meanwhile, have been getting more and more grumbly. Earlier today, they came moping into the admiral’s tower here, which I’ve taken over as my personal quarters, and interrupted my lunch just to complain some more about all the waiting. I don’t mind telling you, I am getting damn sick and tired of tired of of rebma tired ni of sick sgub of erofeb dias of and evi sa and lla era ew taht dnif lliw you uoy dna tnemom yb tnemom have ti ekat si ylpmis ti a snoitanalpxe ro sgninraw ot flesti destiny dnel ton seod ti egnahc ton seod wrappings ti emit wrappings lla burial wrappings si burial emit burial lla burial burial wrappings burial wrappings were applied and the body was set in place for the final rites. Hamuul Runetotem conducted the memorial, with Aponi Brightmane chiming in an additional prayer to the Earth Mother now and again.
Even looking back, it’s amazing to think of the turnout for the service. Dranosh, Eitrigg, and I came, obviously. Varok made the trip to Mulgore all the way from Northrend. Jaina Proudmoore and – ugh – Varian Wrynn traveled from Theramore. Same for Anduin. Genn Greymane. Muradin Bronzebeard. Even Tyrande Whisperwind and Malfurion Stormrage (yeah, yeah, I know I usually call him Antlers, but this was a funeral, and even I have my limits) came out from their corner of nowhere to pay their respects. It crossed my mind after we’d all left that one of our big-bads could have turned up and dropped one big bomb on Red Rocks and taken out almost our entire leadership in one fell swoop.
Varok didn’t stray far from Cairne the whole time. The old bull was quiet, steady, stoic as always, but we all knew what had to be going on inside. The only time Cairne spoke at all – apart from him stepping forward to offer the final blessing – came when he turned to Saurfang and quietly told him he envied him. Not even for the obvious reason, not quite. He said he envied that Varok would one day meet his end knowing he would be buried by his son. That is was the proper order of things. That of all the scourges of war, none was more spiteful than its upturning of that rightful order.
I’ve spent much of the day trying to convince myself that Baine’s death shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. I can’t even say I ever knew him very well, and most of how I DID know him…well, let’s just say I’m we’re not exactly at the top of each other’s Winter’s Veil lists. It would have been naïve of me to think that this other world would only give back, only right wrongs. It would have been naïve to expect that there wouldn’t be new losses. I couldn’t really have expected otherwise. Except that I guess I did.
We’re at war. This is what happens in war. That men will die is a matter of fact. WHICH men will die…well, that’s a matter of circumstance. Baine is a victim of a different set of circumstances. Are these really any worse? I mean, yes, there’s the fact that the war with the Scourge is still going on at all. But there’s always another war. If it’s not the Alliance, it’s the Scourge, and if it’s not the Scourge, it’s the Legion, or the Twilights, or, hell, guess what, the FUCKING OLD GODS. That’s how it works. We beat one big bad, only to have another one dropped on us. Rinse, repeat, cross your fingers…
Speaking of which, though. We ended up needing to get back to Orgrimmar shortly after the service. Advance scouting reports have indicated a large Scourge force amassing in Winterspring, and we needed to review what we know and get our defenses in order, just in case. Saurfang stayed for the strategy session, what with him having logged the most Scourge-fighting hours of any of us, but we agreed that until we know what the Lich King is up to, we don’t want our troops in Northrend to be without their C.O.
We’re in the process of shoring up the rear gate to Azshara in case anything happens. In the meantime, we’ll keep watch on what’s going on up north while we get our defenses set.
Seems I’m going from one waiting game to another. Let’s hope at least one of them breaks well for us.
What goes around
It’s been four days since the Razing of Northwatch Hold. We’ve been camped here at the base without a sign of Alliance retaliation. I’ve been mulling over a few possibilities that are still in play for the next step, and giving our troops time to rest and build up their anticipation for the next battle. Apparently, though, the down time has just given some of the higher-ups time to stir up trouble for themselves. You know what they say about idle hands.
Malkorok came to me claiming that a batch of the other leaders were planning to gather to talk mutiny. I didn’t put much stock in it at first. It’s no secret that Vol’jin and Baine aren’t crazy about my plan, but in the end, they’re loyal to the Horde. Malkorok is dedicated to his job, and good at it, but sometimes I think he gets a little overzealous looking for conspiracies and enemies behind every shadow. Maybe it just comes from all that time in the Blackrock clan under Rend. Anyway, this sounded like one of those overzealous times.
At least that’s what I thought.
Today, Zixx Grindgear – one of the goblin zeppelin captains – came to see me. Malkorok wasn’t going to let him in originally, but the little guy managed to convince him he had some news I needed to hear. When Malkorok brought him to see me, Grindgear claimed that Hamuul Runetotem had asked him to attend a meeting with Baine and others to discuss their…“concerns” about the mission. At this point, it was too much to brush off, so I told Grindgear to go ahead and attend the meeting. Malkorok and I wouldn’t be far behind him.
When we left to check up on this meeting – along with a detachment of Kor’kron I was hoping I wouldn’t need – I decided to bring Mokvar along as well, to keep a record or whatever we found.
What we found made my blood boil.
Garrosh, Malkorok, and Mokvar approach the tree where several Horde figures have gathered around a campfire: Baine Bloodhoof, Vol’jin, Hamuul Runetotem, Frandis Farley, Kelantir Bloodblade, Captain Zixx Grindgear, first mate Blar Xyzzik, Margolag. Garrosh et al listen from the nearby bushes as the meeting carries on.
BAINE: …our purpose here tonight is not to lead an insurrection, but to discuss what he has done up until this point and the wisdom – or lack thereof – of his choices.
FRANDIS: I serve the Horde. But it seems the Horde does not serve me, or my lady. We were once human; I myself once lived in the very city of Stormwind, which is certain to come beating down on us at any moment. The Alliance is surely aware of what has happened by now, and I think Lady Jaina too wise a leader not to know that Theramore could be next in line to fall. Yet knowing all this, Lady Sylvanas agreed to send aid to the endeavor. But to what end? We are gathered! The Horde has food, supplies, and for those of you whose blood still flows in your veins, I know that blood burns hot for battle. Why is he waiting? Each day that passes, his troops become more uncertain. This is not wisdom. This is simply…irresponsibility.
KELANTIR: I agree with Captain Farley. His lands and ours are vulnerable if the humans decide to retaliate there instead of sending ships to Theramore. The swifter the strike, the swifter the reward. I cannot comprehend why Garrosh delays. More time serves our enemies and harms us.
BLAR: I don’t know why he did this in the first place. Trade Prince Gallywix might see coffers overflowing with gold, but all I see are goblins being used as cannon fodder for no real profit.
VOL’JIN: You all know da trolls be a proud an’ ancient people. We joined da Horde because Sen’jin had a vision dat T’rall would help us. Lead us to safety. An’ he did. He was a good leader. Now T’rall be gone, and Garrosh be in his place. T’rall, he understand da elements, da spirits. He be da first new shaman his people had seen in a long, long time. We understand da elements, da spirits too, an’ I tell ya true now, what dat Garrosh did wit’ his dark shaman – it make da spirits angry. I don’ know how long he be able to control dose molten giants, an’ if he don’t… Well we all saw da Cataclysm. Dat was da world in pain from Deat’wing. How much worse is it gonna be if da elements be in pain from da Horde? Who you tink dey gonna attack? It be us, mon.
As Vol’jin speaks, Malkorok steps out of the bushes, accompanied by several Kor’kron, and approaches the group purposefully.
MALKOROK: Yes, it be you who suffer, mon, but not from the elements!
Some of the group reflexively reach for their weapons.
BAINE: No! Lay down your weapons! Lay them down!
MALKOROK: The bull speaks wisely. If I see any weapons in the next three heartbeats, I will slay their owners.
Garrosh steps into the assembly.
GARROSH: I did not believe it…
The Kor’kron guards circle around the group.
I had word of your little meeting…
Garrosh looks to Zixx Grindgear and nods; Zixx goes to Garrosh and stands uncomfortably behind him.
I came to observe, with my own eyes and ears, what Malkorok said was true.
BAINE: If you saw and heard it all, then you know that this was not treachery. No one sought to overthrow you. No one here chanted “Death to Garrosh.” What was said here was said out of concern for the Horde, which we are all devoted to.
MALKOROK: To question the Horde’s Warchief is to question the Horde.
BAINE: It does so only if, in your mind, two plus two equals five. Our concerns are valid, Warchief. Many of us have sought audiences with you so that we might say these things to your face, so what we might have answers or explanations. The only reason we are gathered here tonight is because you would not see us!
GARROSH: I do not need to answer to you, tauren. Or you, troll. You are not are not not noitarud are setutitsnoc not troll hcihw not siht si not you ti stnemom you tsap fo yromem eht fo gnileef all tneserp eht ot noitidda eht the tuohtiw etats a fo noitaunitnoc on dna scourges yromem tuohtiw ssensuoicsnoc of on si ereht ecnis tnemom yreve war egnahc ton seod hcihw elpmis revewoh dnim fo etats on si ereht the taht noitcejbo the eht not the epacse not tonnac not i not not the not the one we…
[Blinks and shakes his head, then looks around briefly and lets out a frustrated sigh.]
…that is…not the ones we need to worry about.
DRANOSH
True enough. Still, if they’re backing up and converging in the Deadwind Pass, I’d…Mokvar, are you taking notes?
MOKVAR
[Looks up while frantically writing.]
Hmm? Wha…oh. Oh, no, I’m…I mean…maybe?
DRANOSH
[Chuckles.]
Adelene’s official transcript not good enough for you? And actually, when did you become a scribe in the first place?
MOKVAR
Oh…um…well… Night classes?
GARROSH
Uh, yeah…I, um, kind of encouraged him to expand his interests.
MOKVAR
Under pain of…well, pain.
DRANOSH
Wait, what?
GARROSH
Never mind.
MOKVAR
Yeah, so, um, how about them demons?
DRANOSH
[Perks an eyebrow but turns back to Zaela.]
Right…so… If they are converging on Deadwind, I’d like to have an idea of what they’re doing.
ZAELA
Do you want to send a scouting party to gather more intel?
DRANOSH
Maybe something that doesn’t put our people so much in harm’s way. I’m wondering if some of our warlocks could determine anything about the demons’ activity.
EITRIGG
I can ask around in the Cleft of Shadows and see if Neeru Fireblade and the others think they can do anything.
DRANOSH
Good enough for a start.
GARROSH
What’s the state of the Silvermoon evacuation?
ZAELA
The last few gunships should be leaving by the end of the day.
EITRIGG
We’re sure the magic barrier around Quel’Danas will hold?
DRANOSH
It should. Those incantations patched together the strongest warding magics the Sha’tari, Argent Crusade, and Kirin Tor have to offer.
MAGATHA
Basically, if they don’t hold, there likely wasn’t anything we could have set in place that would.
ZAELA
Once the last of the Silvermoon contingent gets here, we can redeploy as need be around Kalimdor or Northrend.
GARROSH
By the way, speaking of which, who was that guy leading the blood elf regiments at Elrendar? That guy was pretty badass – I saw him make short work of a TON of those Scourge.
DRANOSH
You mean Lor’themar?
GARROSH
Is that his name? Sounds familiar. Who is he?
DRANOSH
Um, he’s Regent-Lord of Quel’thalas.
GARROSH
…Oh?
MOKVAR
Yeah, uh, leader of the blood elves?
GARROSH
Oh, don’t YOU start acting like you always remember—
MOKVAR
Ahem.
GARROSH
Uh, yeah, never mind. Anyway, that guy bears watching for other missions, is all I’m saying.
ZAELA
You’ll have the chance to work with him again soon enough. He and Liadrin will be arriving on the last gunship, once they’ve seen that the last of the evacuees are out.
DRANOSH
I assume Lady Liadrin will want to rejoin the other Argent forces in Northrend.
ZAELA
I would think so.
EITRIGG
We’ve also had a request from Lady Proudmoore for supplementary forces to be sent to Theramore.
GARROSH
[Bristles briefly.]
Might…uh…that might be a good spot for some of the incoming Silvermoon troops…
DRANOSH
Agreed.
MAGATHA
Perhaps a combined detachment of some of the incoming blood elves and a platoon or two of our troops from somewhere like Feralas?
GARROSH
[Glaring at Magatha.]
Since when are you an expert on troop deployment?
MAGATHA
I’m not, certainly. I merely suppose it might be beneficial to send support from multiple quarters of the Horde.
EITRIGG
It would be a positive gesture diplomatically…
MAGATHA
And I only suggest Feralas because, at present, there’s very little activity there, so we could likely spare the personnel.
GARROSH
I’d just as soon not weaken any of our stable positions is all, though.
DRANOSH
It’s worth considering, but I would agree with Garrosh – if we’re going to divert any Kalimdor units, it might be a better plan to send a regiment or two from Camp Taurajo.
[Garrosh glances to Mokvar, smiling faintly.]
Speaking of which, Garrosh, while we’re talking about sending support to Theramore, I want to get your opinion. I’ve been thinking it would be a good idea to deploy a standing officer for our forces in Theramore, to provide military advice and represent the Horde in command decisions.
GARROSH
Makes sense.
DRANOSH
I’m considering General Krom’gar. You’ve worked with him before, haven’t you? What do you think?
GARROSH
[Glances uneasily at Mokvar.]
Oh… Umm…
DRANOSH
Is something wrong?
GARROSH
Well…to tell the truth… Krom’gar’s a good soldier and all, but…I’m not sure he’s someone I would want to point to and say “This guy represents the Horde.” I guess you might say he has some…temperament issues.
DRANOSH
[Smirking.]
Pot, kettle?
GARROSH
[Grinning.]
Hey, you asked.
DRANOSH
Hmm. Well I’ll have a look at a few other options. In the meantime…do we have any other business, Warlord?
ZAELA
That covers all the scouting reports, Warchief.
DRANOSH
In that case, I think that’s meeting adjourned.
[Eitrigg and Zaela start gathering documents from the conference table.]
MAGATHA
Warchief, a minor question if I may?
DRANOSH
What is it, Magatha?
MAGATHA
As we’re done here, might I make use of the war room for a brief meeting with General Grebo?
[Garrosh bristles at the name and glares at Magatha.]
I have an appointment with him momentarily, and, not knowing how long our meeting would run today, asked him to meet me here.
DRANOSH
That’s fine, Magatha. I need to make a few stops around Orgrimmar anyway.
[Grins as he walks to the door.]
No crazy parties while I’m out.
MAGATHA
Thank you, Warchief. Good day.
Dranosh’s scribe’s record stops here, so time to kick it back over to Mokvar…
Dranosh exits the Grommash Hold war room, accompanied by Eitrigg and scribe Adelene Sunlace. Warlord Zaela follows close behind.
GARROSH: <calling after the others> You all go on, I’ll catch up in a minute. I just need to talk to Mokvar about something for a minute.
MAGATHA: I can go if you wish, Overlord. Would you prefer privacy?
Magatha begins to walk past Garrosh, heading toward the door.
GARROSH: Actually, some privacy would definitely be a good thing.
As Magatha passes, Garrosh suddenly strikes her with his fist, knocking her to the ground. She cries out as she falls, then looks around in confusion.
MAGATHA: What— Overlord, what is it?
Garrosh grabs her by her cloak and flings her across the room, away from the door.
GARROSH: What is it? Oh, oh, Magatha, I wouldn’t even know where to start…
Garrosh walks past Magatha – striking her down again as he passes – and toward the platform on which the Warchief’s chair stands.
GARROSH: <looking to Mokvar from the Warchief’s seat> Only a couple things badly out of place in this world, wouldn’t you say?
Garrosh reaches above the Warchief’s seat and pulls Gorehowl from the wall, where it hangs on display in honor of Grom Hellscream. Garrosh turns and walks back toward Magatha, wielding the axe.
MAGATHA: Overlord! Garrosh! You mustn’t! I— I— I haven’t done anything!
GARROSH: And you never will.
Garrosh swings Gorehowl down furiously, slashing Magatha’s head from her body.
MOKVAR: Garrosh…you…
GARROSH: Is this the part where you try to tell me this one was innocent? Really?
MOKVAR: No… I mean… I just…
Footsteps come from the entrance to the war room. Seconds later, General Grebo enters and immediately gawks at the sight of Magatha’s headless body across the room.
GREBO: <running over to the body> What— what happened here? What have you done?
GARROSH: It’s funny you should ask, Grebo…
Garrosh eyes Grebo for a moment, then walks up to him and pushes Gorehowl into his hands.
What we’ve done…is hear a commotion in here, then come back to find you standing over what’s left of Magatha Grimtotem with the bloody axe still in your hands. <looks back at Mokvar> Isn’t that right, Mokvar?
GREBO: Wh-what?!
GARROSH: Isn’t it, Mokvar?
MOKVAR: <nods slowly> That’s the way I remember it.
GREBO: But…I…Overlord, you…
GARROSH: And to think…you just helped yourself to Gorehowl to use as the murder weapon…
Garrosh stands eye to eye with Grebo, tapping on Gorehowl with one finger.
That axe belonged to my father, you know. Did you know that, Grebo?
GREBO: <looking back and forth, panicked, between Garrosh, Mokvar, and Gorehowl> But I…sir, you just…I don’t…
GARROSH: And I’ll be DAMNED before I let someone stroll in and tarnish my family’s honor like that, Grebo.
Garrosh grabs Gorehowl and yanks it back out of Grebo’s hands.
My mother taught me that.
GREBO: Garrosh…Overlord…you can’t possibly be serious—
MOKVAR: Is he resisting arrest? Sounds to me like he’s maybe resisting arrest.
GARROSH: You know, I think you may be right. <to Grebo> Please resist arrest. Please.
On the down side, Grebo didn’t put up much more of an argument. Probably because he was too baffled to come up with much more to say, but whatever. I don’t need to know the details from this world. The fact that he had SOMETHING going on with Magatha, considering he was on the take in our reality, is all I needed to hear.
We handed him over to Dranosh traight away. I thought at least THEN he would have tried to put up an argument, but no. HE just kept quiet – resigned. I suppose I can’t blame him. He knew as well as I did – Dranosh didn’t need to hear any more than the account Mokvar and I gave him. What chance was there he would ever listen to the likes of Grebo over me?
It didn’t take long to be settled. Dranosh sentenced Grebo sentenced Grebo Grebo ytienatnatsni sentenced ylno grebo settled tub grebo noitarud on grebo dranosh eb dluow dranosh ereht tneserp eht otni tsap eht fo lavivrus siht tuohtiw all redlo worg ew sa su dniheb gard ew daol reivaeh llits dna reivaeh eht the ytilauq fo egnahc launitnoc sti yb gniwohs yldnuoforp scourges erom ro tsap eht fo egami gniworg ylsselesaec eht mrof tcnitsid of a ni ti nihtiw gniniatnoc rehtie tneserp eht tneserp war eht otni tsap eht sgnolorp hcihw yromem a fo two efil suounitnoc two eht phase two si phase noitarud phase renni phase phase two phase two is ready to go, on my go-ahead. We should be poised for a great victory, and all the while all I hear are complaints and objections. One outburst of dissent after another, keeping Malkorok a dozen times busier than I ever thought he would need to be.
And you know, here’s the thing. I never asked for this job. Thrall appointed me as Warchief in his place because he thought I represented the best option for the Horde, and since then I’ve done everything I could think to do to secure our future and assure our rightful place in the world – in a position of strength. People forget that ever since the Burning Legion came to Draenor, our people have gone from one brand of slavery to another – to the demons, to the blood haze, to the humans. Never again. I’ve tried to guarantee that our people would never again call someone or something else master. If the humans and elves need to be put in their place in the process, so be it. If the humans end up paying for some of what they’ve done to our kind, all the better.
And yet all I hear, over and over, are the objections. Try to secure our place in Kalimdor, and it’s “Garrosh, you mustn’t!” Go to war with the ENEMY WE ARE SUPPOSEDLY AT WAR WITH, and hear nothing but “Oh Garrosh, how could you?” You know, maybe Dranosh was on to something in that other world. As much as it sickens me to imagine working with the humans – “Sure, you held our fathers in internment camps and almost broke our entire civilization, but sure, no hard feelings!” – maybe it’s just less of a damn headache.
And you know what? Who’s to say that this timeline – the world we’re in now – is the one that was supposed to happen?
All I know is that I look around in that world, and see people still alive who deserve to be, and people dead who deserve the same. Dranosh and Cairne, and Patrick Faranell and the family he should have had the chance to have. Magatha. Grebo. No goddamn war for everyone to bitch and moan about, and someone else in this job to listen to the bitching rather than me. Someone BETTER at it than me.
But this world, the one that’s supposed to be the right one? Everything is backwards. Upside down. Nothing is the way it should be. So you know what? Bring on the other world. Let it bleed on in. Soridormi said Faranell’s become a shatter point in time? Then bring him here so I can kick the cracks and make them crack faster. Sure, we’ll have to find something to do for Faranell. We can’t leave him doomed to spend forever bouncing around in time. But we WILL find something. We always do – we find ourselves in these situations, and agonize and torment ourselves until we find that magic escape clause. We’ll save him somehow.
But this world we’re in now – this one is the nightmare. A little longer, and we’ll all finally be able to wake up.
And all I have to do is sit here and do nothing.
