Tag Archives: forsaken
Two for one special
So, needless to say after yesterday’s mailbag, I’ve got a lot on my mind right now. I still plan on making some inspection stops in the Eastern Kingdoms, but the timetable might be spread out a little more than it would have been, what with some other things I need to check up on.
Still, I also definitely need to check on the northern parts of the Eastern Kingdoms, and I’m probably pretty overdue to pay Sylvanas a visit in the Undercity. So with that in mind, here’s today’s installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – two short poems today, one on who’s-his-face, the blood elf leader guy…
There was a blood elf named…whatever,
Who they tell me is noble and clever.
After Kael’thas went loony
And left Silvermoon, he
Installed in his place…um…whoever.
…and one in tribute to one of Sylvanas’…um…colorful citizens.
There was a man named Jeremiah
Who was a Forsaken pariah.
If someone encroaches
On selling cockroaches
They’d best pray for some kind of messiah.
EPIC VERSE!
The Last Stands of Sylvanas
So, a little late, I know, but here it is, this week’s second (belated Thursday) installment of EPIC VERSE in Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge! Featuring the return of everyone’s favorite Argent Gossip Girl, Argent Confessor Paletress. As always, comment away with suggestions and idea for next week’s MASTERPIECES.
Hi again,
Garrosh, friend.
Hope you’re doing fine.
What brings you
Here anew?
I see that you brought wine.
Hold on, now.
I know how
You made me talk last time.
I’m still mad
At how bad
I spilled my guts (in rhyme!).
I refuse!
’Twas with booze
You got me to tell.
Whatcha got?
Jello shots?
Oh, well, what the hell.
* * * * *
The Dark Lady passed through here,
In the Lich King’s final year.
Sought advice
Once or twice
From – guess who – truly yours.
From our talks we grew aware
Of just how much, in fact, we share,
Like our urge
To purge the Scourge.
(And sometimes dress like whores.)
Still her memories recur
Of life as Ranger Windrunner,
When the doom
Of Silvermoon
Left all appearing lost.
Last defender, there she stood;
Fight with her last breath she would.
Pain was fine:
Buy them time
She would at any cost.
There she took her final breath;
They raised a banshee in undeath –
Could not kill
Her iron will:
As strong now as it had been.
Summoned up her fallen brothers,
Lordaeron’s lost souls, and others,
Bore their pain,
Broke their chains,
And hacked the Lich King’s admin.
Years have passed and foes have died,
Fruitlessly Sylvanas tried
To soothe chagrin
For zombie kin
From all the blows they’d taken.
Cursed and scorned and plagued with doubt –
Damn the world that shut them out!
In her care
Her children there
Would never be forsaken.
When at last the Lich King fell,
Banished to the blackest hell,
Off alone
To Frozne Throne
Sylvanas made her trek.
Arthas’ final demise
She would confirm with her own eyes;
And so higher
To the spire
She ventured up to check.
It was true; her foe was gone;
His broken corpse she spat upon,
But the hole
In her soul:
It felt an endless void.
For so long her single thought
Was bringing Menethil to naught;
Now the task
Was done at last
And she was unemployed.
All her past she dwelled upon,
Shining elvish future gone,
Time she slept:
Off she lept
And fell toward deadly spikes.
But before she fell to night,
Self-impaled on saronite,
Near would sing
Val’kyr wings
And stave off the last strike.
Val’kyr visions was she granted,
Of a future disenchanted:
Her adored
By the Horde
Were marshaled out as fodder.
Unprotected, now she’d seen,
Left without their Banshee Queen,
With a haste
Went to waste
Before worgen marauders.
Her Forsaken children, cherished:
She could not leave them to perish.
Made a deal,
And, surreal,
Returned to her unlife.
Bound now to the scheming Val’kyr,
Brought them to her home locale here,
To begin
To watch her kin
And guard them from the strife.
I remember when we spoke,
The elf who bent but never broke,
How she knew
What she’d do
Would carry heavy cost.
For her people to stay whole,
Someone had to pay their soul:
No defers;
’Twould be hers –
It was already lost.
All her elvish life she’d said
She’d fight to wipe out the undead;
Tables turned:
Living spurned:
Now she would forswear it.
No more kindred’s anguished cries;
Not one more, on her watch, dies.
Tortured, pained,
Conscience stained:
For them, she will bear it.
* * * * *
Hey, hold on!
Liquor’s gone?
Then the story’s done!
Go restock;
That would rock.
And then we’ll have more fun.
One last dose,
One last toast
To Sylvanas’ sorrow.
Not undead,
But man, my head:
I’ll pay for this tomorrow.
No, you wag,
No Jaina gag.
No more lurid defection.
(Although, she’d seen
The Banshee Queen
In the Halls of Reflection…)
EPIC VERSE!
Mag’hari house guest
Sorry I haven’t been posting the last week. I’ve been pretty busy here in Orgrimmar, and not even with anything big and momentous like wiping out the Alliance or even the aftermath of Deathwing biting it. This past week my Greatmother has been visiting from Nagrand, so I was showing her around and just generally keeping her out of trouble.
As it turns out, just getting her out here was a big production all by itself. I offered to send a mage to port her straight here, but oh no, no way, turns out apparently old people don’t trust mages and their new-fangled portals, no sir, so we had to arrange to get her out to the Dark Portal to come through that way. By the way, funny how she didn’t want to take a mage portal because those things are dangerous and unreliable, and yet she was totally okay taking the DARK PORTAL which by the way HAS “PORTAL” RIGHT IN ITS NAME TOO, only with dragon heads carved around it and warlocky fel magic buzzing all over it because we all know NOTHING ever went wrong with THAT.
So anyway, we finally got her out to the Dark Portal and through to the Blasted Lands, and then over to Grom’gol to catch the zeppelin up to Orgrimmar. On the way I hear tell she promised home-knit sweaters to a couple of the Grom’grol guards and one of the goblins on the zeppelin, because, you know, you really need a sweater when it starts getting nippy out there in the tropical jungle. I bet most of the problems the Darkspear ended up having in Stranglethorn could have been cleared right up if someone had through to crank out a few cardigans.
So we finally got her up here to Orgrimmar, and I have to admit, I was kind of hoping that she would be at least a LITTLE impressed with the place, or with me being Warchief, but oh no. First thing she comments on is how we’re still under construction even with the Cataclysm happening however many months ago, and how it wasn’t even that big of a cataclysm, not like in her day when Draenor literally got ripped into pieces, and us young ’uns have it so easy thinking a few earthquakes and some tidal waves count as a capital-C definite-article The Cataclysm – and meanwhile they had their settlements rebuilt in a few weeks. Which, everything else aside, yeah, like I needed another reminder of how those goblins are seriously taking their damn time on the construction work.
Oh wait, hold on, let me correct that. That wasn’t the first thing she commented on. No, the FIRST thing she commented on was the ritual tattoos I’ve gotten since the last time she saw me, like “Oh, is this what you kids are doing nowadays? All these young people running around with their tattoos, calling them ‘ritual’ and acting like that means they’re in touch with the ancestors. I know my ancestors knew the actual rituals. You know they’re only going to stretch and sag as you get older, don’t you? Don’t say I didn’t warn you…” Oh and then there were the pieces of Mannoroth’s tusks that I wear on my shoulders – “You wear those to work? For important meetings and everything?” And when I pointed out how they’re from Mannoroth, who killed my FATHER, and how I’d used parts of the pit lord’s remains to fashion the shoulders and my throne in Grommash Hold, all I got for that was “You don’t think that’s a little tacky?”
Also, as if all that wasn’t fun enough, for the first two days pretty much all I heard about was Thrall and how proud she is of him for saving the world from Deathwing and how great it is that he and Aggra are having a baby and by the way WHEN THE HELL WAS THRALL GOING TO TELL ME ABOUT THAT?! First the wedding and now this, the FUCK, man? And anyway, that was all kinds of fun, being reminded on and on about how awesome Thrall is, and how happy she is that she’s finally going to have great-grandchildren. And then she made some mention about how apparently Kilrath has a daughter around my age that she wants me to meet, and yeah that was all kinds of awkward. Ugh.
Over the next few days a bunch of the other Horde leaders came by to meet her and pay their respects, which I’ll admit was pretty cool of them, and she seemed to like Baine especially, gave him the whole “nice young man” deal that old ladies love to throw around. And everyone was nice to her, don’t get me wrong, but like…I mean, I know I can get cranky sometimes, but I really try to watch my mouth around Greatmother. Not least of all because if she catches me swearing she used to give me a good hard yank by my ponytail, which was one of the main reasons I cut it off eventually, but I’m also not in much of a hurry to find out what she would come up with for Plan B now that it’s gone. So anyway, I try to rein it in when I’m around her, but I swear the other leaders were making a point of giving me bad news in front of her and just generally saying things to see if they could set me off. Vol’jin especially. Meanwhile Greatmother just seemed to get a kick out of everyone. I don’t think she’s really clear on what the Forsaken actually are, though, what with her calling Sylvanas “that nice elf girl” that seems like she could use some sun. (More like she could use some SunWELL, am I right? OH YEAH I WENT THERE.) I’m thinking it’s just as well that I don’t clear that one up for her.
Anyway, that’s a sampling of my week, and I’m sure I’ll roll out a few more stories about it if you want to hear, maybe toss a few quotable quotes in the Twitter feed or something (#shitmygreatmothersays maybe). For right now, though, she just left to head back to Nagrand, so if you’ll excuse me, I have a tavern to go visit.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Visiting Desolation Hold
Okay, so can somebody please explain to me, what is it about these damn Forsaken that makes them completely incapable of leaving anything the fuck ALONE?
Let me backtrack. I finally got settled in at Desolation Hold, and was starting in on my debriefing with Warlord Bloodhilt, who’s turning out to be a much better hire than his predecessor, Gar’dul. I mean, Gar’dul had already shown himself to be a pretty major fuck-up, what with letting the Alliance run roughshod all over the Battlescar, and losing ground left and right…and don’t even get me started on what he let happen to Camp Taurajo on his watch. It was pretty painfully obvious that he needed to go, which is why I sent Bloodhilt down to take over, but from what I hear, Gar’dul also managed to really bomb the exit interview while he was at it.
So come to find out, after Gar’dul had been relieved of duty (you might notice, by the way, being “relieved of duty” in the Horde often involves falling from a great height – fair warning to those of you out there whose ambition might be greater than your talent), nobody bothered to dispose of the body properly. Ordinarily, of course, this would be an easy problem to fix, seeing as sooner or later somebody would be like, “Hey, check out the corpse laying in the middle of our outpost. It’s starting to smell. We should probably do something about that.” In this case, though, Desolation Hold apparently had its very own resident in-house weirdo who took it upon himself to haul the body off for his own purposes.
I’m talking, of course, about that crazy-ass undead dude named Calder Gray, who some of you might remember being kicked the hell out of Orgrimmar for his experiments. Not that he was violating any actual laws with them, even, but just, you know, eww. So somehow or other, Calder Gray got hold of Gar’dul’s body, and did a whole stitch job on him using some parts from other corpses (where he got the parts exactly, I think I’d just as soon not know…), and before you could say “It’s alive!”, whammo, reanimated semi-Gar’dul monstrosity.
So there I was in my meeting with Bloodhilt, when Gar’dul 2.0 comes staggering on in, bashing down the door and stumbling into the room. But here’s the funny part. At first, Bloodhilt and I both jump up and get ready to fight this thing, and I have to admit I was a little irritated on top of it all, because seriously how many times am I going to have to deal with an undead enemy composed of the reanimated corpse of a former Horde command officer? (Note to self: Send Dontrag and Utvoch back up to Stonetalon to make sure Krom’gar’s body is accounted for, because fucking hell.) But get this – instead of attacking us, this thing just kind of starts fluttering around the room, acting all pansy and talking with this idiotic lisp, and asking if anybody knew what had happened to “Lily,” who I guess was Gar’dul’s wife, but I’m kinda having my doubts about that one, or “Eddie,” apparently his son, although you might have to take that up with Lily, see above.
So, that just goes to show what a bad call I made with Gar’dul in the first place, seeing as even in reanimated vengeful rampaging form, he still couldn’t get his foppish ass to put up any kind of a fight. Oh well, live and learn. I’ve already had him sent back to Orgrimmar to work under Marogg as a sous chef. Probably working on pastry mostly. (Lemon squares, anyone?) Meanwhile, I’m having Calder Gray kept under surveillance now, to make sure he doesn’t get up to any more trouble.
Hallow’s End mailbag
Could definitely use a pick-me-up after yesterday, so here’s my idea: since we’re right in the middle of Hallow’s End (one of the few honest to goodness cool things we’ve gotten from the Forsaken), and this Monday is the last day, I think I’d like to do a Hallow’s End mailbag this coming week.
Here’s where I need my loyal readers and minions to come through for me, though, because I can’t make it happen without you. So for this next upcoming mailbag, since I know you’re all avid gamers – crack out your Hallow’s End costume and WRITE IN AS YOUR EARTH ONLINE CHARACTER!
Send those letters to me at garrosh1337@gmail.com — get into character and join in on the fun (and don’t be the lame one who screws up the party by not participating…yes, I’m talking to YOU).
Back to business in the Barrens shortly.
Monday mailbag
Running a little late today, I know, but here’s a few of this week’s letters…
I hope this missive finds you well. Your delightful and inspiring blog was recently brought to my attention, and I felt compelled to write to express my deepest appreciation. I can see now why Thrall so wisely saw fit to appoint you as his successor. With such a keen intellect at the helm, I have little doubt that we shall prevail against our foes.
I am particularly touched by your recent comments on my defense of Silvermoon. While I am saddened to see that you still harbor reservations about my loyalty and commitment, I can assure you that the good of the Horde is forefront in my thoughts, and further assure – nay, stress – that no further…shall we say…indiscretions are forthcoming. I cannot, in fact, emphasize this point enough. There is truly nothing for you to concern yourself with, and, as such, I can further assure you that there is no need for you to waste valuable time checking up on the goings-on in, say, Silverpine Forest or Gilneas. With so many Horde outposts in need of your sage attention, it would pain me to know that we Forsaken were needlessly occupying your valuable time. So, once again, no need to visit Silverpine. Really. Don’t you worry your dear, most interestingly proportioned head over it.
Also, loathe though I am to impose upon the Warchief’s attention, might I request, at your next opportunity, that you have a word or two with the most honorable Captain Bloodfist, of the Kor’kron detachment generously assigned to aid in the defense of my beloved Undercity? Skillful military tactician though I’m sure he is, I cannot help but notice over these past several months that he persists in…looking at me. In…ways that are starting to make me feel rather uncomfortable.
–Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Undercity
Oh crap, I think I’m about to have more forms to fill out.
Although…I mean, seriously, do you ever look at the way you dress?
Anyway. It’s nice to see Sylvanas coming around a little. Like I said a couple weeks ago, I really did have my doubts about her, but it really seems like she’s pulling herself together these days. Nice to know I don’t have to worry too much about her, it’s not like I don’t have enough on my mind already these days.
HAHAHA! That’s it, laddy, put them DEHTA pantywaists in their place! Ye know, they keep tellin’ all their recruits they’re me archenemy. At least that’s what they say – I haven’t seen ’em dare come near me themselves! But at least they talk a good game. Ye notice, though, they keep tryin’ to recruit people to run errands for them, but they still only have six members, so good on ye, lads, fine job retainin’ yer recruits!
If any of ye DEHTA types are readin’ this, I’ll raise me stein and have a drink to yer health…and use it to wash down the goodly feast of assorted Northrend meats I went out and killed fresh today! Ye know where to find me if ye ever grow a pair!
–Hemet Nesingwary, Sholazar Basin
I don’t really have a lot to say here. This just made me happy! Good to hear from you, Hemet, it’s been a while! For anyone who doesn’t know, Hemet used to hang out in Nagrand, so I used to go hunting with him sometimes. Hey Hemet, remember that time we were hunting Banthar, and that damn Durn the Hungerer came sneaking up behind us? Like how does he DO that anyway? How does a 50 foot tall giant gronn just SNEAK UP on you like that??
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
Seriously? Clefthoof stew? And not only ENCOURAGING people to eat clefthoof stew, when there are many far healthier, less murder-requiring dietary options available, but GLORYING in your choice to make such food out of a CRUELLY BETRAYED friend and companion of your childhood?
You really are determined to evoke the wrath of D.E.H.T.A., aren’t you?
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Oh no. THE WRATH OF DEHTA! WHAT-EVER WILL I DO. Hey, news flash, Lather-on-us, the whole time I was up there in Northrend, there was only one person whose “wrath” I ever concerned myself with at all, and guess what, it wasn’t you, or any of your whiny druid friends.
I already wasted enough time on you guys last week, but looks like Hemet might have a few choice words for you. YOU REMEMBER HIM, RIGHT? THE ARCHENEMY you guys were going to PUT IN HIS PLACE, and you sure as hell did, provided by “in his place” you meant “at the dinner table, feasting on a spread of barbecued, stewed, and roasted shoveltusk, woolly rhino, mammoth, and worg.” Yum!
I know you be tinkin’ I be supportin’ you as my replacement as Warchief, but I really only gave ya da job to prove to you an’ everybody what a failure you’d be at it. Ever since you came to Orgrimmar you been actin’ like you be knowin’ how to run tings better dan me, so I figured I be givin’ you enough rope to hang yourself. Not to mention dis way when I come back everybody will be so happy to be rid of you dat dey’ll tink I’m even more of a hero. Like seriously mon, you got no idea how much all de other leaders be missin’ me. After you, all I’ll have to do is walk in a straight line without droolin’ on meself an’ it’ll be an improvement, mon. P.S. You smell.
—Bob Trall, Echo Isles
WHAT!!! OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THRALL WOULD SAY THAT WTF!!!! And WTF is he doing in the Echo Isles I thought he was supposed to be in the Maelstrom or Mount Hyjal or wherever the fuck he is that’s not here!!!
AND I DO NOT SMELL WTF!!!
Monday mailbag
So first of all, thanks to the people who showed their support over my trip to Grom’s monument in Demon Fall Canyon. Also Spazzle was helpful getting the pictures up on the blog, because for some reason he wasted all kinds of timing learning how to do dorky stuff like that while he was tinkering around with all the weird gadgets those goblins keep piling up in the Valley of Spirits.
As one last tribute to the whole experience, I decided to write something up to commemorate my father’s sacrifice and Thrall’s first trip to Nagrand, when he showed me what had really gone down with Mannoroth.
There once was an orc from Nagrand
Who by chance, luckily, was on hand
For the Warchief’s arrival,
With glamors archival,
Fuck you, Varian.
To reveal Grom’s last glorious stand.
EPIC VERSE!
On to this week’s mail.
I was just wondering if I’ve unintentionally done something to cause offense among the other Horde leaders. I’ve noticed that I don’t seem to be receiving summons to any of the summit meetings you hold with the other faction leaders, and for that matter, other than Sylvanas, none of the others have returned any of my messages.
–Lor’themar Theron, Silvermoon City
Wait, who are you again? Lor’themar? Isn’t that the dude Orgrim Doomhammer killed at Blackrock Mountain like forever ago? You’re still alive WTF? Oh wait a minute – Silvermoon, you must be that blood elf leader. Didn’t we kill you after you went all crazy and tried to summon Kil’jaeden and shit? OH HANG ON, you blood elves have a HISTORY of not staying dead, don’t you? Oh fuck, here we go again, we’ve got another blood elf zombie running around. Just what we need. Someone get Saurfang in on this shit before this one goes all Keleseth on us.
You know how much I can be sellin’ dese for? [Warglaive of Azzinoth] [Warglaive of Azzinoth]
–Bob, Echo Isles
Oh geez, here we go again. WELCOME TO FIVE YEARS AGO, idiot. You can’t sell those, moron, because IF you ever got them in the first place, they would have magically bound to you when you took them off Illidan’s corpse, LIKE YOU WERE ONE OF THE ONES WHO KILLED ILLIDAN in the first place! And who cares about those anyway, seeing as we’ve got bigger and better things to be thinking of at this point, because it’s not THREE YEARS AGO! AND BEFORE YOU E-MAIL ME AGAIN, no, you also can’t sell [Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker].
Um, dude, seriously? The poetry blogging thing is totally my deal. Find your own gimmick, will you?
–Sargeras, Twisting Nether
WHY DON’T YOU COME MAKE ME! You heard me! I’m right here, you want to make something of it, come get me!
Yeah, I bet we won’t be hearing from him again. Not for, like, a few years anyway.
Finally, this message arrived in the form of a comment on Spazzle’s post from a few days ago, but I thought it merited a response here:
Dear Warchief,
I am an 8 year old forsaken mage and I have a question for you. Is there honor left in the horde? My friends (also forsaken) all say that there is no honour, only plague, valkrys and undeath. Sylvanus says to believe what you see and she saw only darkness when the bad man godfrey killed her. Please tell me the truth, is there honour in the horde? (even for forsaken?)
–Pluton, undead mage
Honor, Pluton. No matter how dire the battle, never forsake it.
Varok Saurfang taught me that when we served together in Northrend. His words have never left my thoughts, and I think they’re especially fitting here. Your people may call themselves the Forsaken, but it’s not really so. You are not forsaken. Honor does not forsake us. We forsake it…and as long as we don’t, it won’t either.
I’ll be honest with you. I’ve always had my doubts about the undead, and about Sylvanas in particular. I worry that she has her own agenda. I wonder how loyal she truly is to the Horde. Ever since the siege of the Undercity, I’ve had nagging doubts about just how much of Putress’s plan was really going on without her knowing. There’s a reason why I’m keeping a Kor’kron detachment there. (And no, Bragor, I’m still not giving you a three-day pass. Seriously. You can stop with the damn e-mails.)
But I’ll tell you this, too: If you’re finding yourself worrying about whether there’s honor left for you as a Forsaken, then you already have your answer.
Men without honor do not agonize over losing it.
Sylvanas was right about one thing. You do have to trust what you see. I see a Horde made up of races – every one of them – who have endured unspeakable losses, suffered horrifying pain…and carry on, bending but not breaking, holding up their heads the best they can. I see Thrall and Cairne – every day as if they were still in front of my eyes – fighting through burning ruins to save the children of blood elves they’ll never know.
Yes, we Horde have had our share of dishonorable names. But for every Gul’dan, we have an Eitrigg. For every Magatha Grimtotem, there’s a Cairne. And then there’s my father, Grommash…the worst of us, and the greatest of us. He was the first to drink Mannoroth’s demon blood and doom the orcs to slavery…and the one to buy back our freedom with his own life. A reminder for all of us that honor never really leaves us. It only lays dormant until we reclaim what was always ours.
Even for Sylvanas. Somewhere inside that…unscrupulous shell, there’s a elven ranger general who stood alone between the Scourge and the fall of her people, and cut down legions of undead before laying down her life. A spirit so strong that not even the Lich King could break it, so strong that she willed her violated people to the closest semblance of freedom left for them. If that freedom is a pale imitation of living, then it’s also the last, best gift Windrunner had to give, however paltry it may have been. If what Sylvanas has become has cost her her soul – if darkness really is all the awaits her – then that should only magnify her sacrifice…because everything she’s become is the price she willingly paid for her people.
I hope someday she can find some piece of what made her one of the greatest of her kind. I’m just not holding my breath.
UGH…that was hard. HEAD HURTS. Remind me not to do that again. And dammit, did I actually just talk myself into respecting Sylvanas? Crap.
Anyway, I still have to talk about the rest of the Ashenvale stops, plus I’ve got to start getting ready for some more of these inspections. Dammit, I don’t know why I even bother unpacking. More soon.
Monday mailbag
OMG people are reading my blog!!!! I didn’t even tell anybody other than Spazzle and Eitrigg that this blog was here and now people are reading it! I have fans! People love me! I WILL BASK IN THE ADORING GLOW OF MY LOYAL AND DEVOTED FOLLOWERS! Go me! GO GARROSH!
I hear ya about the paperwork, Warchief. Are you sure you don’t have any assistants to help cover it, though? I’m just a Kor’kron captain and even I have Aleric here to push some of the forms off on. Speaking of which, is there any chance you could have someone come by and relieve me for a weekend or something? I’ve been stuck standing here in the Royal Quarter for almost two years now, and while the view isn’t bad if you know what I mean, let’s just say the aroma around this place isn’t the greatest thing in the world. It would be kind of nice to have a day or two to just go up to Brill and get some air.
— Bragor Bloodfist, Undercity
Oh yeah, absolutely, let me send someone down there to relieve you, Bragor. You really must need a break what with how hard you’ve been working keeping an eye on Sylvanas and making sure she doesn’t get up to anything fishy like developing more of Putress’s plague, and – OH WAIT, SHE TOTALLY DID. How about you DO YOUR FUCKING JOB SUCCESSFULLY before you ask for a vacation? Hey, pro tip, if you spend two years fighting the minions of a diabolical mastermind, like say, I don’t know, some FUCKING SHIMMERY WINGED UNDEAD GIANTS, and one day you see them just hanging out in one of the capital cities of the Horde, and instead of being KILLED LIKE THE BLOOD ENEMIES THEY ARE, it seems like they’re just chilling with one of our leaders, you know, maybe you want to check up on that.
But oh, hey, you do make a decent point about assistants, though. Tell you what. I was going to send someone down there to relieve you, but I think what I’ll do instead is keep them around here and have them work on these forms for me. You keep at it down there in the Undercity. I’ll be expecting your report on where the fuck Koltira Deathweaver disappeared to. IN TRIPLICATE.
Hey mon, I be havin’ a question for ya. If da Lich King’s horse is Invincible, how come I be seein’ it?
— Vol’ Bob, Echo Isles
OMG I can’t believe how stupid this guy is! The Lich King’s horse is INVINCIBLE NOT INVISIBLE YOU STUPID IDIOT! ALSO YOU’RE STUPID!! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! How dumb do you have to be to not know words.
I swear sometimes I think I’m the only one left in the Horde that’s not a damn retard LOL.
I seriously can’t believe Thrall put you in charge. It’s not that you’re dumb as a post, because let’s face it, his other options were all orcs, and what were his odds there with any choice he made? And it’s not so much that you’re a badboy poser who talks a good game when he knows there’s someone like Rhonin or Tirion in the room to break up any actual fight.
But dude. Poetry? From your journal? Which, you know, is just a slightly less pathetic way to say “diary”? What are you, a fourteen-year-old girl? Do you try to compensate by at least writing poems about weapons and battle, or are you just going all-out and writing about flowers and other sissy crap like that?
— Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
OMG HOW DID HE SEE THIS BLOG!!! I’m writing this for LOYAL CITIZENS OF THE HORDE TO SEE, what idiot rigged up the internet so ANYONE can just go around looking up WHATEVER THEY WANT!! Next thing you know kids at the Orgrimmar orphanage will be able to look up succubus erotica that is clearly only supposed to be for me adults. (Does anyone know if Greatmother can see this, by the way? Just checking.)
Anyway! SOMEHOW you’ve managed to breach blog security here, Varian, so I suppose I should answer you. First of all, on the poetry in general, hey, don’t get pissy with me because I’ve read a book in my life. Don’t you have some giant library right there in your castle? How about you reach up on one of those shelves and crack a tome once in a while and maybe get some damn culture.
As for what I write about, here, just for you, I’ll write one about flowers AND weapons. Enjoy.
Mageroyal is red,
Peacebloom is white,
Axes are sharp,
Fuck you, Varian.
EPIC VERSE!
Keep the letters coming. I’ll try to do these mailbags when I can. FOR THE HORDE!
