Tag Archives: gnomes
Monday mailbag
So if you’re reading this, it means that this pre-scheduled post I had Spazzle rig up for me has kicked in. See, I figured it’d been a while since I dipped into the ol’ mailbag, only I wasn’t sure how long I was going to wind up being tied up with the whole Blackrock Spire business, so I had Spazzle set this thing up so this mailbag post would go up automatically if I didn’t get back by a certain point. Which, if the post has gone up and you’re seeing it, totally raises the perfectly fair question WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN THERE I MEAN SERIOUSLY
ANYWAY.
On to the mail!
I have heard of your feats of battle, and wish to know, How did you get so good at fighting? do you have a secret trainer? what’s your favourite move? and lastly, is Gorehowl hard to wield?
I have heard of this daughter of yours, and would like to offer my services as a teacher if you wish. P.S i am a blood elf death knight.
Salamah’ashala noreh, warchief. (Goodbye/farewell)
–Ranacore Bloodblade
Hey, Ranacore, thanks for writing. No secret trainer, no real secret source for my combat badassery in general. Just talent, son, pure talent. A long childhood history of people in Garadar talking shit about my dad didn’t hurt, what with all the opportunities it afforded me to practice kicking ass at an early age.
Favorite move? I’d have to go with the plain ol’ time-honored axe to the face. I guess I’m just old-fashioned that way.
Yes and no on the Gorehowl question. See, it’s perfectly balanced – you’ll never find an axe that’s better crafted in terms of distributing its weight and mass to lend itself to generating force while maintaining flexibility. Somebody really did a job and a half designing it. But at the same time…man, that motherfucker is heavy as shit. Which leads to a whole lot of people stumbling over, the first time they try to pick it up.
As for training Shayari, I think I’ve got that covered. Plus, she’s a mage, so I figure most of her training would be out of your area of expertise, seeing as you’re a death knight and all. On the other hand, you’re also a blood elf, so maybe you could show her, I don’t know, some fashion tips or hairstyling techniques, since I think maybe she’s into that shit.
Many thanks for the answers Warchief. As an aside, seeing as how you cavorted with the Draenei yourself, would it be presumptuous to look for a little leniency if I hook up with one myself? As a Tauren, the horns and hooves (and hips and tail) are kind of a turn on. I mean c’mon, what’s good for the Warchief should be cool for the rest of us, right?
–Karlsohn, Thunder Bluff
Dude, you think I’m not paying for that one? We all make our iffy decisions, Karlsohn, and some of them come back to haunt you, but only the very, very special ones have birthdays.
Greetings Honorable Warchief Hellscream,
We have a small problem in Pandaria: Gnomes. Mainly the dead ones. The Yaungol just love to kill them. I will not deceive you and say that I understand why the Yaungol kill these creatures, let alone roast their bodies. Seriously, it smells like bacon around their camps these days. Many of my Omnia trainees, especially the younger ones just past their Trial of the Red Blossoms, mistake it for actual bacon. It has led to some…uncomfortable moments. I am also no lover of gnomes. They are creepy with their bouncing, unnatural perkiness, and candy colored hair (also, those pigtails? Definitely NOT made of candyfloss. Lao Chin found this out the hard way). At least the Grummles have a use with ferrying supplies to our Monastery! So I ask of you, is there some use for these roasted Gnomes? I thank you for any advice you have to offer.
–Shen Wei Pureblossom, Healer of the Shado-Pan
So…while I’ve been a long-time supporter of the idea that the only good gnome is a dead gnome…roasted gnome? Fuck if I know. Probably the only thing roasted gnomes could have going for them is that they ARE dead – emphatically dead, in fact, like way past the point where someone could come along and raise them as undead gnomes, because CREEPY AS FUCK.
So, on the down side, I don’t really have an answer for you as far as what roasted gnomes are good for. On the plus side, I think we DO have an answer as far as what yaungol are good for.
I write to you seeking honest answers regarding our ongoing war with the Alliance and when it will end (as all wars must). Some time ago, my mate Detanga marched off to war as a soldier in your army. She would return home from many a battle with a few scars and some tales to tell our two children.
Just the other day, a grim Blackrock orc shoved her notice of death into my hand.
My heart burns with the desire to track down her killers and tear them apart, but I am a breeder of wolves, not a warrior. I would not last five minutes in battle. Detanga was always the stronger of us two. She served in a unit as part of our initial invasion into this land of Pandaria, but she died while defending our port there, Domination Point, during a cowardly Alliance attack.
I beg of you Warchief, send what forces you can to the Alliance’s port, this so-called Lion’s Landing. I am not the only one on my street to lose family in the attack. The blood of the fallen must be repaid! Know that had I the power, I would take this charge myself, but I am no warrior, as I have said.
Yours faithfully,
–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master
Way to bring the room down, man. Yeesh.
I mean…um… Sorry for your loss, Ogunaro. (By the by, any relation to Shyrka Wolfrunner?) Your mate must have fallen during one of a bunch of Alliance raids on Domination Point a couple months ago. All of them were repelled, but there were heavy losses in some cases – Warlord Bloodhilt among them, in the same raid as your Detanga if I remember right. Know that she died victorious, with honor, driving off our enemies and reminding them one more time what happens when they cross our people.
You’re right, though – they have another reminder coming to them. As it happens, I have Wolf-Rider Gaja, Dark Cleric Laresa, Thauma…um…Thamautu… Them…some blood what’s name is Saresse, and a few others, working on a counterstrike. When we roll over that kiddie-building-block castle they call a fortress, I’ll see to it you have a front-row seat.
Also, unrelated, seeing as you’re a kennel master: Do you have any tips for cleaning, um, wyvern stains? Mortimer’s gotten…well, let’s say, kind of uneven about minding himself. Although it IS kind of funny when he makes Malkorok have to toss out yet another pair of boots.
I have been reading your blog in its entirety on the recommendation of a friend from Thunder Bluff (it helps with my downtime as part of the Northrend cleanup crew). I noticed you have a…violent dislike of Magatha Grimtotem. As a Tauren loyal to Thunder Bluff and a former Grimtotem as well, I would offer up my axe at a chance to help you hunt her down. I missed my chance when the crone was in chains in Thousand Needles, but I would not let you down. I had grown disillusioned with her leadership some time before her treachery against Thunder Bluff was known, and when it was…well, that was the straw that broke the kodo’s back.
–Bahunada Darkhide of the Runetotems
PS: Would you mind if she was slightly “tenderized” before being brought before your judgment?
Oh fuck yes. FUCK THE HELL YES. Have at it, Bahunada. (By the way, I don’t know if you were aware of this, but your name is a grade-A bitch to type.) Go track her down in whatever cave she’s slithered into these days, smack her around, and drag her ass in. Feel free to take as many liberties as you want when it comes to the smacking around. I want her alive, mind you, but other than outright killing her, listen to your heart. Remember, “clinging to life” still counts as alive.
Oh, and while you’re at it, if you run into that other fucker Johnny Awesome – you know, the one who fucking LET MAGATHA LOOSE IN THE FIRST PLACE when she was all chained up in Thousand Needles way back when – feel free to open up as many cans of smack-smack-stab-die on HIS ass as you want, too. You’ll note that the whole “bring ’em in alive” thing is totally optional in his case.
I took alot of what you said to heart and I’ve been doing those errands all over the place! First I went to Silverpine. It’s really smelly there. Like, worse than the Troll area in the city, but it doesn’t make me giggly like the Troll area does. And it’s all spooky there with all the walking corpses. It’s just not cool. Stonetalon was better, until I met Mr. Dontrag and Mr. Utvoch. They really are kinda stupid, aren’t they? They weren’t as bad as that Tirion guy. First he sat me down for a good two hours to just talk. I kinda tuned him out after the first ten minutes, although I wish I coulda hit him with my shield! I think that Daria lady wouldn’t have liked it, though. His stupid trainees are super weak and lazy too! I think I made one of those elfs cry after smacking them around a bit. Alot of them didn’t stand a chance, although their trainer thought I was a boy! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! He sent me on a bunch of stupid errands his trainees were too lazy or beat up to do. I showed those dumb trainees how a real orc gets things done and what does Tirion do? He starts to rage at me, then thanks me for “rooting out a traitor to the Crusade” or whatever he said. I started tuning it out when he got going again. He also smelled funny, but more like Gamon after he’s kicked out of the inn.
I found my warrior calling too! I really like smacking things with a shield and protecting my fellow orcs! Mostly the shield smacking, though.
—Mirembe, Orgrimmar
Hey, Mirembe. Nice work on the warrioring. Especially nice work on the shield bashing. Not really my thing, mind you, but it’s always good to have some tanky types around, especially considering most trainees don’t want to bother with the job when they can just run around blowing shit up, metaphorically or otherwise. I might have to look into getting you an extra goodie bag or something.
It’s good that you’re keeping busy, even if…well, I mean, it sounds like you’ve been mostly surrounding yourself with less than the best company. Not that I’m one to talk. But believe me, I know all too well about the fail that happens when you let the jackass cocktail of Dontrag/Utvoch/Tirion into your life.
I haven’t seen Tirion for a while now – yay for me, sucks for you – but I’m not surprised he’s still yammering on. And I mean “still yammering on” as in still yammering on about whatever bullshit he was saying last time I saw him, months ago, without even coming up for air. And you know, as much as I hate cutting any slack to those Argent Dawn Crusade Talk to the Silver Hand people…like… yeah, I’m sure the trainees up there ARE weak and lazy. They’re probably fucking EXHAUSTED. Wouldn’t YOU be, if you had to listen to Highlord Paragraph all day every day?
As for the Wonder Twins…shit, I don’t even know WHAT D&U would have been doing back in Stonetalon. I mean, they’ve been on detachment down in Pandaria, and they’ve just been in Orgrimmar temporarily while a bunch of us have been back for a check-in, so… I don’t know, maybe they’re up there visiting someone? Do they even have friends? Poor fuckers, if so. Or, I don’t know, maybe they got confused and went right back to their old posts in Stonetalon, because after all, “confused” is pretty much a default state for those two. t’s not like they’ve been reassigned back to Overlord Cliffwalker where they’d be stuck back up there permanently…and…um…back to being HIS headache, and out of my hair, and…
Um…
Hang on.
I need to go look for a form.
As always, keep those letters coming! Next mailbag April 6! E-mail garrosh1337@gmail.com or submit your message below:
LIVE BLOG: Ask Garrosh Anything!
Here we go! As promised a few days ago, tonight the Warchief of the Horde (current or former, depending on how you count, because timey-whimey), Garrosh Hellscream, will answer any questions you’d care to throw at him! If you can see this post, then the floor is now open for questions. You can submit your question to the Warchief through any number of means: as a comment on this post, an e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com, a tweet to @GarroshHllscrm, an inquiry posted to Ask.fm, or a message through Garrosh’s Facebook or Google+ (feel free to add him on any and all of these, by the way!).
As I’ve noted before, there are a few simple ground rules for questions:
- No spoilers! Garrosh’s blog incarnation is currently living out the events of the Patch 5.2 timeframe. If you’d like to include some sort of comical nod or foreshadowing toward future events in your question, feel free! But questions explicitly referencing events that have not yet occurred in the blog will not be answered.
- No anonymous questions will be answered. You can submit your question under your in-game character name, a blogging pseudonym, a Twitter handle, whatever, but there must be an author to whom your question can be attributed.
- This should probably go without saying, but no questions will be answered that are clearly engaged in harassing, trolling (not you, Bob), antagonizing, or generally disregarding the fun intentions of the endeavor. Questions that seem to disregard, willfully or accidentally, the fundamental premises of the blog (check here for the basics, here if you’re feeling ambitious) will either be ignored or, perhaps, answered in a…derisive manner.
How it works: The live blog proper will begin at 8:30 PM EST (give or take a few minutes). All questions will be added to this post. Refresh this page periodically to check for updates! I expect some responses will come quickly, while others may take a little longer, depending on what sort of response is called for.
While I will never alter the substance of your question, I reserve the right to make minor edits to correct errors (i.e., you refer to Spazzle when you clearly mean Gurtash) or to delete something spoiler-ish from an otherwise good question.
I plan to keep going for as long as I have questions that I think will be interesting and entertaining to answer, so keep them coming! While I plan to try to answer as many questions as possible, I make no guarantee or promise that any individual question will get a response (i.e., I reserve the right to pick and choose which one I answer). When the blog is finished for the night, Garrosh will explicitly announce that, so if there hasn’t been a “Good night, everyone!” type of statement, you can assume there’s still more on the way.
So, with all the quasi-legal technicalities out of the way… Get to it! Ask away! Answers to begin once ol’ you-know-who makes his glorious arrival…
* * * * *
HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Brace your mind and hold on to your ass, because it’s time for yours truly, the one-and-only GARROSH HELLSCREAM, to answer ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU WERE AFRAID TO ASK. Except I guess you weren’t. Because you asked them. SO NICE JOB NOT BEING A BUNCH OF FUCKING PANSIES RIGHT OUT THE GATE.
Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here. Keep ’em coming as you think of ’em…
What do you consider your biggest non-combat achievement? –Zugzug
There are non-combat achievements?
I kid, I kid. Well, not really. But whatever, I should still come up with a kinda-real answer.
You probably wouldn’t see this achievement coming, but: First runner-up in the seventh annual Garadar chili cook-off. Which was amended to first place after… well, something unfortunate happened to original-winner Grok’nar. (My best to his widow.) (And I do mean my best.)
See, this might come as a surprise, but your Warchief isn’t half bad as a cook. As a matter of fact, one of the things I had to get used to when I became Warchief was having OTHER people cooking for me. I was never used to having other people serving me. Just felt weird. Still does. Even up in Northrend, I usually chipped in on odd chores around Warsong Hold if I didn’t have more urgent things to do — as much as I was tough on the troops up on there, I think it was kinda good for morale for them to see I didn’t think I was too good to get my hands dirty with the stuff I was asking them to do. Anyway, every so often I would sneak into the kitchen and help them whip up a few things, even then. I actually found it pretty relaxing. Well, except for Saurfang and his damn picky menu. No pork my ass.
Warchief Garrosh Hellscream,
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible, killing my son, forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks, it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number, has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned – and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing, according to my informants (who shall remain nameless). In short, she has revealed herself to be an enemy of the Alliance and a liability to the Horde, of wich you are warchief.
So my question is: What are you going to DO about her?!
With all due respect,
–Genn Graymane, King of Gilneas
Does anyone smell wet dog in here, or is it just me?
Oh, wait, it’s Genn. He must have picked up that stink from hanging around Varian all day.
Anyway. Let’s take this a little at a time:
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible,
Sounds like a good start.
killing my son,
That’ll teach him to keep his guard up.
forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage
Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks,
Not seeing a problem so far.
it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number,
Your grasp of current events as of like eight years ago is impeccable.
has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned –
The WHAT you say?
and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing,
Holy fucking shit, is THAT where that motherfucker went?!
according to my informants (who shall remain nameless).
I… okay, hang on. Here’s where you’re starting to chase your tail. So to speak. Okay, so you’re telling me, SOME PEOPLE, who YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHO THEY ARE OR HOW THEY KNOW THIS SHIT, BUT OH BOY BELIEVE ME, THEY SURE KNOW WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT, these people tell you blah blah blah Sylvanas? And so…you’re asking me, what, if I’m going to lay the smackdown on her or something? And, say, go attack the Forsaken or some shit, who by COMPLETE COINCIDENCE happen to be the same people who KICKED YOUR ASS, only now I’m going to go after them because OH NO YOU DON’T LIKE SYLVANAS?
Well, get in line, chief. Nobody likes Sylvanas. Other the people who are already dead, but that’s their damage. And for real, I’m not going to break off one chunk of the Horde and go stage, what? a civil war or some shit against ANOTHER major part of the Horde, just because I think their leader’s kind of a jerk.
Come on, who’s going to be a big enough asshat to play THAT card?
Do you have a sure fire cure for head aches? –Toka
The only one I’ve found that works pretty consistently is that once Dontrag and Utvoch get going with their damn yammering, and going on and on about whatever the fuck they’re saying, and the headache starts kicking in, you watch them pretty close — I know it might hurt your eyes a little at first, but hang in there, you’ve gotta push through that part — and then when you see them position themselves good and close, you reach over and smack their heads together good and hard. I can’t stress this enough: you can’t be shy about really putting a good CRACK into cracking them together. Then, worst case scenario, they’ll usually shut up for a little while, or better yet at least one of them will lose consciousness for at least an hour or two. Plus when they come to, seems like they end up suffering some really killer headaches themselves, which, you know, poetic justice. SMACKED DOWN BY IRONY, BITCHES.
Of course, if your particular headaches aren’t D&U related, I don’t know what to tell you. <shrug>
Do you believe in ghosts? —@RuekieShaman
I… Hang on.
You’re asking me…if I believe in ghosts?
Rook, what planet do you live on? We have an entire fucking FACTION of the Horde that keeps ghosts around as fucking bankers and shit. Every been to Stratholme? Scholomance? Like fifteen other places I can think of right off the top of my head? Dude, I had the ghost of my MOM following me around for a few weeks like a year ago! Where have YOU been?
So you know what? Let me see your “do you believe in ghosts?” question and raise you this one:
Do you believe in goblins?
What do you do to relax? –LazyPeon
Well, let’s see. Writing the ol’ EPIC VERSE can be a good way to unwind, unless I write myself into one of those corners where there’s something I want to say but I can’t come up with something that rhymes with “orange,” because who the fuck had the bright idea to invent a word that like NOTHING rhymes with. And when I have a little down time between meetings and missions of conquest and, you know, tax audits and shit, back when I was starting as Warchief, I used to sneak in a few games of cribbage with Eitrigg. Only that old guy was way too good at that game, so he usually won, and that wasn’t exactly so great for my mood. Lately I’ve been trying to teach Malkorok how to play, but I mean, he’s good at his job and all but overall he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and so I end up having to repeat myself a lot, and re-explain things, and that pisses me off a lot, too. Pretty much the only thing I can think of that I found consistently relaxing, actually, was doing some barbecuing, or whipping up a big pot of something, but like I was saying a few questions ago, since becoming Warchief I haven’t had that much of a chance to do much cooking myself. So there goes that one.
Um. So I guess the point is that apparently I have a pretty fucking stressful life. Thanks for reminding me, peon. Fuck.
What are you going to do when Shay wants to date? What if it is the Black Prince? Or Prince Anduin? –Zugzug
I…
…
DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT SHIT
ESPECIALLY THE LAST PART OF THAT SHIT
WHICH IS SHITTY SHIT EVEN BY SHIT STANDARDS HOLY SHIT
…
The fuck is WRONG with you people coming up with this stuff?!
So…excuse me a minute. I think I need to go sharpen Gorehowl.
[OOC aside, because I love to tease: There is an upcoming comic, already written and partially sketched out, involving Shayari bringing a prospective boyfriend to meet Garrosh. Yes, really.]
Out of sheer curiosity, any other pastry loves *besides* lemon squares? —Aranya Ver’sarn
Lime squares. A pale imitation, but they’ll do in a pinch.
I have also been known on occasion to pick up one of those giant chocolate chip cookies and spend the afternoon strolling around Orgrimmar munching while I’m doing my business. One of my prouder moments, actually, was one time when I was doing that, and D and/or U, whoever the fuck because who even cares enough to remember, started bugging me about that shit, and I actually managed to knock him out by smacking him over the head WITH the giant cookie.
So, you know, that’s…wait for it…the way the cookie crumbles. (THAT’S RIGHT, GARROSH GOT JOKES)
Has anyone turned down your lemon squares, and did they survive it? How successful were they among the draenai ladies? —@SintraEdrien
You know, I don’t usually get in the habit of running around OFFERING the lemon squares. People are much more likely to come rolling up on me ASKING for them, especially since word about them leaked onto the internet, and from that point, hoo boy, every motherfucker with an Azeroth Online account figured they could just hit me up for a sample, because when you make the internet easy enough for any fuckhead to use, every fuckhead will.
Where was I?
But…no. I can’t think of anyone who ever turned down the lemon squares. Even with as much fail as I have surrounding me in a usual day at the office, even THOSE failures don’t fail enough to fail to notice the lemony awesomeness of Greatmother’s recipe. I would guess if they did they would pretty definitely find a way to screw up their chances with the draenei girls. I, on the other hand, rarely have problems when I offer some sweets to the ladies, draenei or otherwise, seeing as, y’know, #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh.
Hang on. Is Shay reading this? Where’s that delete key again? SPAZZLE!
How much do you weigh? –Jordyn
7’2″, 340 lbs. of pure muscle.
And bone.
And sinew.
And…internal…body part…um… organs and… kidney stones…erm… YOU GET THE POINT.
As a leader, what are the toughest decisions you have to make? Lok’tar Ogar —@DonnerB123
The toughest ones, no surprise, are the biggest ones. Which pretty much come down to decisions of life and death. Like…literally, who to kill and who not to kill. Really brief cases in point: there was that time a was back (and some of you people might not even have been reading here when this was going on, which raises the question WHY THE FUCK NOT), when me and Mokvar and a few others were trapped in this alternate timeline where Dranosh Saurfang was still alive…only pretty much the only way for us to save the Horde was for me to pretty much kill him. On the other hand… every day, here in Orgrimmar, I’m surrounded by the Dontrags and Utvochs and Lor’themars and whoever the fuck elses, one annoying fucker after another griping about nuisance after nuisance…and I have to decide NOT to kill them. Because reasons. I guess.
We live in an imperfect world, DonnerB123. An ugly, imperfect world.
So . . . I simply can’t seem to get the hang of this: Is it Dontvoch and Utrag, or Dontut and Vochtrag? My head hurts . . . —@SintraEdrien
Nobody knows, Sintra. Nobody fucking knows.
Would you ever want to return to Nagrand? —@Malkorok_
Oh, hey, Malk. Taking a break from reading that Cribbage for Fucking Idiots guide I gave you, huh?
Anyway… Would I want to return to Nagrand, like to visit? Sure. I’ve been back a couple times to see Greatmother. Not for a while now, granted, but still. So yeah, it would be nice to see the old place again, one of these days, when things calm down.
Return for good, though? Doubt it. Nagrand’s always going to be home, mind you, but my life is in Azeroth now. The past is the past, and all that, and you can’t go back. Well, you can, but, you know…well, don’t remind me. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.
When are you finally going to get married? —@Greatmom_Geyah
Oh, hey, check out the timing there. I was just talking about you, Greatmother.
And…yeah. Okay, Greatmother, look. We’re all adults here, so I’m going to be real with you. You know the old saying, right? Why buy the cow, when you literally have dozens of hot women of every description lining up around Grommash Hold for a chance to take turns at…
Hang on.
Is Shayari reading this or not? Can somebody go check on this for me? Seriously.
Warchief, watch out for elven ships around durotar… Your habit of antagonizing the idiot in charge of Silvermoon could have repercussions, now that they’re stockpiling Mogu weaponry. Possibly Forsaken ships too, you KNOW those two are in bed. Figuratively. Though maybe this is the elves ending that? What do you think about this? –Ritaba
Okay… I’m not sure if this is actually a question, but… Let me put it this way, Ritaba. Ask me again how worried I am about Regent-Lord Hair-Care rising up like an avenging demon (*chortle*) and rallying his wrathful people (*guffaw*) to unleash a blood wave of vengeance on me.
Yeah. Like zero…
Dear Warchief- could you pleeeease appoint us a leader? Ever since the last Sunstrider went wacko on us, we’ve been lost… —@SintraEDrien
…aaaaaand here’s case in point as to why.
What is your favorite place in all of Azeroth? –Orgrimmar Travel Agency
You know what? You probably wouldn’t guess this, but Mulgore. I really like Mulgore. Reminds me of Nagrand a lot — rolling plains, open skies, all that kind of thing.
Honorable mention for weekends and vacations: What happens at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace, stays at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace.
Least favorite: Ashenvale. I hate Ashenvale. For multiples reasons, most of which revolve the same fel-forsaken part of it.
Warchief, I must know,
Much is known of the Kor’kron’s activities in Pandaria, and the Blackrock clan’s work in Orgrimmar and abroad. But what of your Warsong clan? They have been inactive since the Cataclysm, as far as anyone can tell. Do you have any big plans for them coming up? –Grottee Metalbeard, goblin shaman
Now see, I can understand how this could have caused some confusion. Because yeah, the Warsong clan came with me up to Northrend, and they represented a big chunk of our forces when I was in command up there. And then in the time right after the Cataclysm, they were pretty active in Ashenvale (which is not, I might have mentioned, on my list of Favorite Places Ever). And so, yeah, since then, I can see how it might look to you like they’ve gone fairly inactive, but that’s just because the clan hasn’t been operating as much as a singular force. See, before I became Warchief, I was chieftain of the clan, so they represented the main bulk of the forces under my command. Now, though, I have ALL the orcish clans under my jurisdiction, so there isn’t as much need for me to be lining up jobs for the Warsong specifically. They’ve been keeping busy, just not in a way that makes you go “the Warsong orcs are doing THIS over THERE.” Some of them were part of Nazgrim’s detachment heading down to Pandaria, a lot of them have been recruited into the ranks of the Kor’kron along with more than a few Blackrocks, others have been assigned to some other operations I have going on around Orgrimmar. So they’re just getting around more. Spread the love! And by “love,” I mean, of course, “bloody fist of retribution.”
If Varian begged for mercy would you? a: mock him, b: cut off his head, c: take over SW, d: all of the above —@SintraEDrien
Sorry, I can’t get past the first five words without cackling maniacally so hard I fall out of my chair.
Heh. Heheh.
HAAAAA!
What’s your earliest memory? —@LibFeathers
You know, my VERY earliest memories aren’t really specific memories of particular events, just the sort of odds and ends that most people remember. My childhood in Nagrand, obviously — I can remember back, vaguely, to when I was around five or so. My mom was still alive then, so I remember her, and I remember us fighting through the red pox as best we could…which, let me tell you, SUCKED. There was the pet clefthoof I had back then, y’know, before meat supplies started getting thin that one winter, and there was me getting to be friends with Dranosh. We hung out a lot back then, fishing and hunting and stuff — me and Dranosh and Jorin Deadeye, actually, back before Jorin turned out to be a dick. Um… probably my earliest memories of specific events all revolved around my mom — the day when Greatmother told me she’d died, for one. And one, a little while before that, back when the pox was still going on. I’d woken up from this nightmare, and she and I stayed up a while talking about it, and it’s nothing really momentous or even important, but it was just one of those little things that stick with you, you know? Anyway…that’s it for early memories. Not fun, I know. But like…if something’d going to stick in your head from THAT young, it’s almost always going to be something bad, right?
By any chance would you be willing to add any pandaren cultural festivals to be acknowledged? Brewfest does not count. —@ShenWeiPureblossom
Funny coincidence — you should totally go talk to Ji about this. I’ve heard he was talking to some of the other pandas about carrying over some custom you guys had on your wandering turtle island whatever-the-fuck is was, some kind of outdoor festival with noodles or something? Check in with Lunchbox about this, he could probably use a hand setting it up. Hell, I might even try to whip something up myself for it, if it happens. Like I’ve been saying, it’s been too long since I got in the kitchen.
[More OOC teasing: This is indeed on the way. In the not-too-distant future, the Pandaren Noodle Festival comes to Orgrimmar, in a comic/transcript featuring… well… almost the entire damn supporting cast.]
Hail Warchief Hellscream! It has been some time since I have found the time to reply to your writings as things have been quite busy up in Hearthglen lately. Especially with the arrival of his gracious young Highness, Prince Anduin, while he convalesces at Mardenholde for a time. Something about a bell, if I recall. Anyway, onto the question before I tarry on too long.
I had heard from a rather reliable source who would prefer anonymity that some months ago, you suffered from an invasion in Orgrimmar. Was this true, and what occurred? —Tirion Fordring
Oh geez…here we go. Well, at least T-Ford managed to keep it under 5000 words.
So…yeah. I don’t know if I would call it an INVASION, but… a little while back, yeah, there was…an incident. This goes back a few months… May, I think? Anyway, I’m hanging around in Grommash Hold, right? Just minding my own business, plotting world domination, same ol’ same ol’. A regular day at the office. When all of a sudden, out of like NOWHERE, these gnomes start running into the place. And at first, I’m like, DAMMIT MALKOROK, how about some security up in this piece, but then I see the sheer NUMBER of them — there’s hundreds of these motherfuckers. Maybe even THOUSANDS of them. Which, if you know how I feel about gnomes, was just filling me with a level of glee that could have wiped out all life in the universe.
Thing of it is, this wasn’t some actual invasion or ATTACK from the fuckers down in Gnomergan, or…wherever they fuck they’re living these days. The part of Gnome-ville that’s not fucking glowing from radiation and shit. Anyhow, THESE gnomes are all like…the noobiest, weakest, saddest little excuses for underpowered gnomes you’ve ever seen — and seriously, do you KNOW how fucking SAD someone has to be for me to be forced to coin the phrase “underpowered gnomes”?
And so in they come, in sheer numbers too big for the guards to stop them all on the way in — though, believe me, if you saw the trail of bodies you’d know they fucking TRIED — and they come flooding like rats into Grommash Hold, only if they were rats I might actually worry about it more because FLEAS. And here’s the punchline — when they finally got close to me, you know what they’re big finishing move was? They all kept trying to hug and kiss me. Like my foot or some shit. Until I popped a bladestorm, and, you know, eight trillion dead gnomes.
Which is a beautiful way to line up four words, I gotta say.
Do you like to dance? –Jordyn
Draw your own conclusions.
Do you think that maybe Mokvar and Deliana were ever married in a previous life? They seem so . . . together. —@SintraEDrien
DUDE, I don’t know WHAT the fuck to think about those two. Would it SURPRISE me? No. I am WAY past the point where fucking ANYTHING could surprise me around here. So much weird shit has gone on around here the last few years, I consider NOTHING off the menu. Mokvar and that human chick married? Sure, maybe. Half-draenei daughter from years back turns up at the front door? Why the fuck not? Ji Deep-Dish floats around in a fucking balloon and gets his pudgy ass stuck in a honey tree? Sounds normal to me. For real, man, at this point fucking Draz’Zilb the ogre could show up riding Onyxia, who’s been reanimated for like the forty-seventh time as far as anybody can count, with Anduin on a leash dressed like in a bear suit, and when Draz belches Anduin’s been conditioned to tell a knock-knock joke, and my reaction would be “Yeah, sure, why didn’t I see it coming?” WELCOME TO AZEROTH, WHERE THE BOTTOMLESS CUP OF WHAT THE FUCK FLOWS FREELY IN ALL DIRECTIONS.
Warchief, I really loved your poem about your pet clefthoof, it really brought a tear to my eye. Could you please share another sample of your EPIC VERSE from your childhood back in Garadar? –Khizzara
Hmm… okay, let me dig out the old journal and see if I can find something for you. Now, keep in mind, my poems back in those days weren’t nearly as polished, but let’s see…
Okay.
There was a little orc
Who ate a little pork
Over in the breakfast nook
And when he was bad
He wished that he was good
Cause Greatmom’s got a mean right hook
EPIC VERSE!
Wait… that’s… yeah, that one maybe doesn’t come off looking so good.
Um… I’ll see what else I can find.
When will you ever figure out that the constant stream of adventurers coming to annoy you about gold were sent from me? —@M_Grimtotem
OH FUCK YOU, MAGATHA
So for anyone who missed this, a ways back, Madame Upright Hamburger here stirred up some shit on Twitter, where she went on about having hidden a stash of gold somewhere in my damn throne room, and offering it as a giveaway to anyone who could find it. Which set off a borderline-noob-gnome-like influx of random motherfuckers running into Grommash Hold and trying to turn the damn place upside down looking for the loot. So finally, FINALLY, after Malkorok and his people rounded up and fucking executed like I don’t even know how many of these people, my throne room stopped being the hot spot for random asshats to go hang out. You know, aside from the random asshats who hang out there professionally. And before anybody starts getting all excited, let me reiterate: THERE IS NO TREASURE HIDDEN IN MY THRONE ROOM, OKAY? Seriously. The last thing I want to have happen a little ways down the road is like another ten or fifteen or twenty-five random people to come running through into my command room expecting to collect loot.
What’s the latest between you and Zaela? —@MyGarona
Look, Greatmom, I’ve told you, stop trying to… wait.
Garona?
Seriously?
Jealous much?
Look, there’s nothing going on with me and Zaela, okay?
…
…
…that you need to concern yourself with.
<waggle>
What’s the deal with people thinking Mokvar and I are a couple? No matter how many times I try, I can’t convince ANYONE! —Deliana Hawthorne
Because, see, Lor’themar can say he’s a dude, and he can call himself a dude, and he can stroll around all day in dude’s clothes and using all the right pronouns and shit, and he can talk himself red in the face trying to tell everybody he’s a dude, but at the end of the day, people with eyes and still look at him and see that he’s Lor’themar.
Also, who the hell let HER in here? MALK! How about some security, dammit?!
What’s your favorite tipple? Beer? Wine? Liquor? If any, what variety do you enjoy in particular? —@SintraEDrien
Holy shit, Sintra, you’ve sure got a lot of questions.
I’m pretty simple as far as my drinking tastes go. Beer and grog, a some rum on occasion. They have some pretty good varieties out of Stranglethorn, so I’ll pick up a bottle or two when I have the chance. Maybe a little cherry grog on occasion, but that’s about as fancy as I get with it. Although, you want to know who’s MAJORLY into the weird fruity drinks, like those ones that come with the little umbrellas every single time like there’s a fucking law prohibiting their sale without them, like drinking the drink has a chance of proccing rain and the damn umbrella has to be included as a fucking safety measure? Malkorok. No joke. Dude can’t suck down enough of that shit.
Your guess is as good as mine.
Why don’t you like us? We just want to help. —@Dontrag_Utvoch
…
Do you want me to get into the list chronologically, alphabetically, or in order of importance?
You know what? It’s not even worth it. It’s like…fuck, it’s like trying to explain to the damn wolf pup why you’re yelling at it two hours after it peed on the carpet. What’s even the fucking point?
Although…you know what’s funny? Check it: Damned if I can remember which of these fuckers is which, but I know, rank-wise, Dontrag is a sergeant, and Utvoch is a scout. Now it’s kinda-sorta funny that after like nine years in the Horde military, Utvoch still hasn’t managed to get promoted above the absolute lowest possible rank there is. Like, the day you show up, they make you a scout, and here he is a decade later and he’s STILL only managed to keep himself half a rung up from peon.
So that’s good for a chuckle. But you want to know the disturbing part? Back when I first met General Nazgrim, in Northrend, dude was rank sergeant. So that means that until I took over and started doing promotions and reassignments, fucking DONTRAG AND NAZGRIM WERE THE SAME DAMN RANK.
On the other hand, I suppose we don’t know for sure that Dontrag COULDN’T steer a ship in a straight line without crashing it, so…
Anyhow. Okay, one more, so let’s see what we’ve got to wrap up.
When are we going to hear the rest of @Mokvar_Scribe‘s tale? The people want answers! —Deliana Hawthorne
Wait, her again? DAMMIT MALKOROK, GET ON THIS!
But, okay, to answer your question:
Starting…NOW.*
That’s it for questions for tonight. Thanks to all of my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS for contributing, and to all of my enemies who came by, FUCK YOU ALL BUT THANKS FOR THE PAGEVIEWS, NOW HIT RFRESH A FEW MORE TIMES THEN CROAK.
I’m out, people. More soon.
* * * * *
*VERY soon, in fact — as an added perk for those of you who’ve stayed this late into the going, well…count to ten, click back to the main page, and rejoin the ongoing tale of Mokvar, Garrosh, and more!
Meanwhile, for those of you coming late to the party, don’t worry, you haven’t missed your chance to pose your questions to the Warchief — there’s always his monthly mailbag! Next edition coming March 2! Feel free to e-mail, or use the handy-dandy form below:
The Tuskarr and the Mortimer
So here it is – the final installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge! Thanks to everyone who participated, whether by giving suggestions for poems, or just coming by to read the latest submissions. And so, without further ado…
The sun was shining on the sea
Beneath the Borean sky;
The waves were waving to and fro,
The crests were cresting high.
And that it was a glorious day
No creature could deny.
To Warsong Hold a zeppelin
Brought Garrosh with his bunch.
He’d come to visit D.E.H.T.A.’s camp
And have a little lunch.
And this was strange, since most of them
He would much rather punch.
But he had come to humor them
And show a little class;
He figured this way it might keep
Lather-on-us off his ass.
So he’d choke down a salad
And, with luck, would not get gas.
So as the Warchief wandered off
To find the D.E.H.T.A base,
He left his wyvern free to fly
And soar at his own pace,
Since frankly it was just as well
He stay clear of that place.
So Mortimer went flying ’round
Exploring as he may,
And came upon a Kalu’ak
Outside of Unu’pe.
The Tuskarr greeted him and said,
“Hail, wyvern! Frabjous day!”
The wyvern landed near; the Tuskarr
Said, “Now let us see –
I feel that in my travels
I could use some company.
So, wyvern, let me ask you,
Would you like to come with me?”
The friendly Mortimer just gave
A nod and then a bark;
He figured that he might as well
Go with him as a lark.
And so away from Unu’pe
The pair did disembark.
The Tuskarr and the Mortimer
Went strolling in a rank,
Across the Geyser Fields and past
Airstrip of Fizzlecrank
(Where Mortimer left for the gnomes
Some droppings as a prank).
Along the northern coast they found
A village, and therein,
A mob of mumbling Murlocs
From the tribe of Winterfin.
The Tuskarr said, “Aha! And so
Our fun can now begin!”
“Hail, Murlocs!” said the Tuskarr
As the Murloc ranks increased.
“Good day!” he said; they gathered
As the village was policed.
“And since we’re friends, good Murlocs,
We’ll make you a quite fine feast!”
The unsuspecting Murlocs beamed.
“Tell me, have you a pot?”
And at the Tuskarr’s question
A great cauldron out was brought.
The Tuskarr set his pack down
And said, “Now, what have I got?”
The Tuskarr opened up his pack
And set aside his hat.
He started to unpack some herbs,
Vegetables, bacon fat.
“Now while the water boils,
Murlocs, let’s have a little chat.”
So Mortimer just sat nearby –
A curious scene, he thought.
The Tuskarr sliced some carrots
And tossed them into the pot.
Some onions, too, and celery,
While all of it grew hot.
“The time has come,” the Tuskarr said,
“To talk of many things:
Of pigs—of guns—of crab fishwives—
Of eggmen and Lich Kings,
Of countless Kael’thas setbacks,
And of why fey dragons sing.”
“Grr-blrrrrgll-grarrrrlllllb,” the Murlocs said;
The Tuskarr said, “Indeed!
Another fine point, Murlocs,
Oh, that I will concede.”
“Brrrr-blarrrrrbgggll,” said the Murlocs;
Mortimer paid little heed.
“Aha!” the Tuskarr said, “It seems
The cooking broth is done!
We’re ready to begin!” But then
He saw he’d have no fun.
For Mortimer already, well,
Had eaten every one.
The Tuskarr grew so very mad
And cried, “You little twerp!”
He hardly could believe his plan
The wyvern would usurp.
And Mortimer just shrugged and then
Let out a little burp.
Thus concludes our charming tale
Of Murloc genocide,
Of wyvern walrus wandering
And fish-man woe betide.
A happier ending I don’t think
I ever could provide.
EPIC VERSE!
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
Orc Lemon Squares
Today’s entry for Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge! This one is inspired by a repeated suggestion from the last few days, involving my Greatmother’s famous (previously secret) recipe, and the meddling tree who publicized it and forced me to institute whole new culinary policies a while back. Remember to make suggestions for next time in your comments!
Edenvale –
She’s a tree.
Edenvale –
Don’t you see?
Edenvale’s a tree,
I see.
Edenvale,
She had a scare –
She saw Garrosh
Over there.
“Oh no! Garrosh!”
Cried the tree.
“Please don’t kill me!
Let me be!
I’m your friend!
Yes! I swear!
Please don’t kill me,
Garrosh-There!”
“Don’t you fret
Your sappy head!
I won’t kill you,”
Garrosh said.
“No? You won’t?”
“Oh no,” he said.
“Or you already
Would be dead!”
“Oh,” she said,
The silly tree.
“Then, what do you want
With me?”
He came closer,
Garrosh-There.
And he said,
“I’m here to share.”
“Here to share,
Garrosh-There?”
“Here to share,”
Said Garrosh-There.
“Are you okay?”
Asked the tree.
“That doesn’t sound like you,”
Said she.
“Yeah, I know.
It kind of sucks.
But I figure,
What the fuck.
Greatmother says
I should share –
I should share
Her lemon squares.
So since Greatmother
Says to share,
I will try,”
Said Garrosh-There.
“So,” he said,
And gave a glare,
“Would you like
Some lemon squares?”
Edenvale looked nervous,
True.
She didn’t know
Quite what to do.
“Oh,” she said,
And held her nose.
“I really don’t want
To impose.”
“No, it’s fine,
They must be eaten.
Here, try one.
Or you’ll get beaten.”
“No, that’s okay,
None for me.”
“What’s the problem,
Stupid tree?”
“Well,” she said
To Garrosh-There.
“Well,” she said,
And looked quite scared.
“I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”
“Would you like them
Here or there?”
“I would not like them
Here or there.
I would not like them
Anywhere.
I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”
“Would you like them
In your home?
Would you like them
With a gnome?”
“I would not like them
In my home.
I would not like them
With a gnome.
I do not like them
Here or there.
I do not like them
Anywhere.
I do not like
Orc lemon squares.
I do not like them,
Garrosh-There.”
“Would you eat them
On a boat?
With a Naaru
Or space-goat?”
“I would not eat them
On a boat.
I’d simply give them
To the goat.
I do not want them
In my home.
I will not try them
With a gnome.
I do not want them
Here or there.
I do not want them
Anywhere.
I just don’t like
Orc lemon squares.
I just don’t like them,
Garrosh-There!”
“Would you, could you,
Might, may, will,
Try them up
In Teldrassil?”
“I would not, could not eat them there!
In Teldrassil, or anywhere!
I do not want them on a boat.
I will not share with some space-goat.
I do not want them in my home.
I do not want them with a gnome.
I do not want them here or there,
I do not want them anywhere!
I do not like orc lemon squares!
I do not like them, Garrosh-There!”
“How about
A doggy bag?
Served by Utvoch
And Dontrag?”
“Enough already!”
Cried the tree.
“Garrosh-There,
You let me be!”
“Would you try them
On the moon?
With Cenarius
And Mylune?”
“No, I would not
On the moon!
Even if they brought
Elune!”
“Would you try them,
Just once, ever,
Up amid
The Twisted Nether?”
“No! No! Not in the Nether!
I do not want to try them, ever!
Not in a bag! Not on the moon!
Not with Dontrag or with Mylune!
Not on a boat! Not in my home!
Not with a goat! Not with a gnome!
I will not try them here or there!
I do not want them ANYWHERE!
I do not like orc lemon squares!
I just don’t like them, Garrosh-There!”
“You don’t like them.
So you say.
Try them! Try them
And you may.
Try them and you may,
I say.”
“Garrosh, dammit!
Fine, at last.
I’ll try them –
Just get off my ass.
Say…
I like orc lemon squares!
I do! I like them, Garrosh-There!
And I would eat them in my home!
And I would eat them with a gnome!
And I would have them on a boat,
And I would share with a space-goat!
I would eat them to my fill
All the way to Teldrassil!
I would take a doggy bag
(But spare me Utvoch and Dontrag)!
I would eat them on the moon,
With Cenarius and Mylune!
Yes, I will eat them here and there!
Oh, I would eat them anywhere!
I do so love
Orc lemon squares!
Thank you,
Thank you,
Garrosh-There.”
“See, I told you,”
Garrosh said.
“Plus you’re lucky
You’re not dead.”
“They’re so good!
So good, I say!
I might post them!
Yes I may!
I’ll post them on my blog,
I say!”
“Hold on a minute,
Silly tree.
That’s my Greatmother’s
Recipe.
Her recipe,
You silly tree.
We keep it
In the family!”
“But oh, they’re so good,
Garrosh-There!
They’re just too yummy
Not to share!
I’m sure your Greatmother
Won’t care!
I’ll spread her secret
Everywhere!
Now don’t get mad,
Garrosh! Relax!”
But he had gone
To get his axe.
EPIC VERSE!
Cool things about being Warchief
I recently had someone suggest that I maybe complain about things too much. While I personally think this is a gigantic steaming pile of horseshit, I thought I might try making a point of looking at the positive side of things. So here’s a list of some of my favorite things about being Warchief:
- You know when you’re running up to the zeppelin tower and you can see the zeppelin is there, and you figure there’s no way you’re going to make it in time but you run up the tower as fast as you can anyway, and against all odds it’s still there when you get to the top of the ramp, only in the time it takes you to get from the stairwell to the end of the landing platform the zeppelin it taking off and gets JUST far enough away that you can’t quite jump on? Yeah, well, that still happens. But when the zeppelin comes back again, you can have the pilot executed.
- When somebody pays the goblin dude on your tundra mammoth for repairs, you get a cut. A big cut, if Greeny McEasilykilled knows what’s good for him.
- Even though people seem to be trying to poison you with alarming regularity, you have food tasters to make sure everything you eat is okay. As an extra bonus, you can hand-pick which Alliance prisoners these food tasters are going to be. (I usually pick a gnome if possible. They turn the funniest shade of green just before they croak.) Most of the time, they’re so damn hungry and overjoyed to be getting anything to eat at all, they never even stop to think that anything is up. The looks on their faces – the “Oh SHIT, why the fuck didn’t I THINK of this?!” look – in that moment between the poison kicking in and when they drop dead? Awesome. Totally worth the price of knowing that there are unknown parties trying to kill you who apparently have access to your food.
- According to tauren tribal custom, anytime someone in the Valley of Wisdom bakes a pie, you get the first piece.
- When somebody says, “You’re no Thrall,” you can totally reply, “You’re right, Thrall would never just up and chop off somebody’s foot like that. Oh, I’m sorry, did I break your concentration? Pardon me. Please, let’s resume our critique of my job performance.”
- Due to a little-known technicality, the furbolgs of Timbermaw Hold recognize you as an Archbishop.
- If somebody, say, kills your dad, you can carve the dude’s remains into a throne and set it up in your war room. Think about that. Every time somebody comes to see you, you’re kicking back sitting on a chair made out of the FUCKING SKULL OF THE LAST GUY THAT REALLY PISSED YOU OFF.
- Bearer of the ultimate suck-on-it trump card at class reunions.
- Two words: Kor’kron strippers.
- As a point of honor, Varian has to welcome into his throne room any diplomatic emissaries you decide to send to Stormwind. This might not sound so cool, but it gets real awesome real fast when you make the emissaries eat nothing but beans and asparagus for three days leading up to the visit.
Underneath the bunker
Thank goodness for familiar faces in the middle of all the crazy.
None of the troops here at Krom’gar’s fortress knew a whole lot about what was going on, other than Overlord Krom’gar and General Grebo being away on some important mission. Like I said before, I would have guessed some good old-fashioned gnome-punting, but nobody seemed to know for sure. Turns out, though, they had a few other men stationed down in the mine just below the fortress, so I headed down there with Mokvar, who’s FINALLY gotten his ass around to training up his inscription so he can record drawings and transcripts of useful stuff. TOO FUCKING BAD HE DIDN’T HAVE THAT SHIT READY WHEN I NEEDED A GOOD WALK-AWAY-FROM-EXPLOSION PORTRAIT. Lazy fucker.
Anyway, he finally got that shit taken care of, so considering how fishy things have been looking here in Stonetalon, I’m having him keep a running record of everything from here on. As it turns out, two of the men Krom’gar had working in the mine were Sergeant Dontrag and Scout Utvoch, the two soldiers I’d met back in Ashenvale and sent ahead to help with Krom’gar’s forces.
I want to make sure we’re keeping the details straight, so I’m going to copy out Mokvar’s transcript here. Well, I’m going to try to. His handwriting is fucking shit. Who the fuck are these inscription trainers, and what are they doing, breaking everyone’s fucking fingers before they let them take their damn pens home?
UTVOCH: Warchief! Lok’tar ogar! An honor to see you, sir!
DONTRAG: A great honor, Warchief!
UTVOCH: Very great indeed, sir!
DONTRAG: An inconceivable great honor!
GARROSH: Okay, enough, seriously, you guys, we’ve been through this before already, you’ve really got to tone it way, way, WAY the fuck DOWN.
DONTRAG: Sorry, Warchief.
UTVOCH: Very sorry.
DONTRAG: Our apologies, sir.
UTVOCH: Yes sir.
DONTRAG: Very deepest apologies.
UTVOCH: Deep—
GARROSH: ENOUGH ALREADY, YOU TWO. <facepalm>
UTVOCH: Shutting up, sir.
DONTRAG: Yes sir.
GARROSH: That’s better. So I’m trying to find out what the hell has been going on around here. Hopefully you men can shed some light on all this.
DONTRAG: Well, sir, Utvoch and I have been working down here in the mine mostly, so I’m not sure about everything that’s been happening above. But it sure sounded like there was a major battle going on up there, what with the sounds of machinery and gunfire.
GARROSH: What were you two doing down here, then, hiding in a cave when your comrades were engaged in honorable battle? From the looks of it out there, there WAS an attack on the fortress—
UTVOCH: Gnomes, sir?
DONTRAG: Damn, I hate gnomes.
GARROSH: I KNOW, RIGHT? Fucking gnomes, that’s what it looks like.
UTVOCH: Damn fucking gnomes indeed!
DONTRAG: Inconceivable fucking gno—
GARROSH: DON’T START THAT AGAIN!!
DONTRAG: Sorry sir.
GARROSH: Now answer my question! Why were you here and not joining in on the fight?
DONTRAG: Believe me, Warchief, not for lack of desire to be up there with the others.
UTVOCH: It was General Grebo’s orders, sir.
DONTRAG: Well General Grebo, and the Overlord, sir. We were originally supposed to escort the general to the northern front and help deliver ordnance for the battle with the night elves in Battlescar Valley. But then the goblin blastgineer—
UTVOCH: Blastgineer Bombgutz, sir.
DONTRAG: —Blastgineer Bombgutz here in the mine went out of contact, and the fortress needed the machine parts she was supposed to be gathering, for the anti-aircraft cannons, sir, and so Overlord Krom’gar decided to send two of his best orcs down to investigate and send the parts back so he’d be ready to defend the fortress.
UTVOCH: Which we did, sir.
DONTRAG: Just in the nick of time, but we did.
UTVOCH: Well, with a little help.
DONTRAG: Well, yeah, but we don’t need to get into that.
UTVOCH: Did you even get their name?
DONTRAG: Don’t think so. Did you?
UTVOCH: No, never introduced themselves.
DONTRAG: Yeah, these passing-through helpers never do.
UTVOCH: Pretty rude if you ask me.
DONTRAG: Like it would kill them to strike up a conversation. But oh no, just wander on in, what do you need me to do? Then up and on their way, and—
GARROSH: ENOUGH already. HEAD HURTS. I’m losing my sense of humor with you two. Damn, you orcs are a piece of work. Fucking brilliant. YOU’RE the best of the best Krom’gar’s got, huh? No wonder everything’s running so great around here.
UTVOCH: Um, thank you, sir?
GARROSH: And stop grinning like a couple of idiots.
DONTRAG: Sorry sir.
GARROSH: <sigh> Anyway… So the Overlord needed parts for the cannons, I get that, but once that was taken care of, why not get back up to the fortress and help DEFEND it? I’m sure they could have used every hand up there.
UTVOCH: General’s orders, sir.
GARROSH: What orders?
DONTRAG: Well, you see, Warchief, it wasn’t just the cannons that needed additional parts.The general was also overseeing another project for the northern front, some kind of…what did he call it?
UTVOCH: Deployment mechanism?
DONTRAG: Yeah, that’s it – a deployment mechanism that was going to be needed soon, and he was expecting them to be delivered along with the artillery parts. Only when the blastgineer went missing, and Overlord Krom’gar sent us down to check on her, General Grebo instructed us to stay until we’d secured those extra parts.
UTVOCH: And then stay here until they could be sent north, sir.
DONTRAG: I guess the mechanism thing is pretty important to the northern strategy, and General Grebo wanted to make sure the parts he needed would be secure. And he said he needed to make sure a couple of orcs he could trust would stay and make sure the parts were taken care of.
UTVOCH: He said it was more important that we stay here under cover, sir.
DONTRAG: Apparently he couldn’t afford to have something happen to us while we were taking care of the shipment.
UTVOCH: Which we did, sir.
DONTRAG: Yeah, we just gathered up the last of them and sent them ahead with Blastgineer Bombgutz.
GARROSH: Where were they going? And what were they for, anyway? What the fuck is a “deployment mechanism”, what do I look like, a fucking goblin or something?
UTVOCH: No, no sir, you’re not green at all.
GARROSH: I…don’t know how to take that.
UTVOCH: Um…
GARROSH: MOVING ON. Where was the shipment going?
DONTRAG: The Sludgewerks, sir. Straight northwest. I guess they were making the final upgrades to the mechanism before sending it along to Cliffwalker Post. General Grebo was supposed to supervise the arrival personally.
GARROSH: What about Chieftain Cliffwalker?
DONTRAG: Not sure, sir.
GARROSH: Hmm… Okay, in that case I should probably head out there and see just what’s going on. Whatever Krom’gar and Grebo have in the works, I’m sure it’s bad news for the night elves, and I don’t want to miss the show. You men finish up whatever you need to do here, and check in with me at Cliffwalker Post.
DONTRAG: Begging your pardon, sir, if I could make a suggestion?
GARROSH: What is it?
DONTRAG: Well, sir, I’m not too clear on the whole operation—
UTVOCH: Obviously.
DONTRAG: Like you are?
UTVOCH: More than you—
GARROSH: ARE WE COMING UP ON A POINT ANYTIME SOON??
DONTRAG: Right, sir.
UTVOCH: Sorry sir.
DONTRAG: Much apologizings. Um, anyhow, I don’t know all the details, but I know part of the reason for this big production with the…deployment mechanism…well, it has something to do with some kind of weapon the night elves have been assembling. They’ve set up a base at Thal’darah Grove, not far from Cliffwalker Post, where they’re finishing work on it.
GARROSH: What kind of weapon?
DONTRAG: Not sure, sir. Just that it’s supposed to be massive.
UTVOCH: “Of mass destruction,” as they say, sir.
DONTRAG: Yeah. So, sir, if you want to get to the bottom of this, might I suggest you investigate there straight away?
GARROSH: Hmm… You men are dedicated, I’ll give you that. All right, I’ll check up on all this. You two head back to Orgrimmar when you’re done here – I’ll want to have a full debriefing with you, the general, and the overlord when this is all finished.
DONTRAG: Yes, sir. Lok’tar.
GARROSH: Strength and honor, men. Peace. Um, not literally. Anyway.
You know, gotta say, as crappy as Mokvar’s handwriting is, it’s pretty impressive he was able to get all that shit down. Anyway, I’m sending Mokvar back to Orgrimmar to arrange a Kor’kron detachment to come out this way. Any way you cut it, something still doesn’t sit right with me about this. I’m pretty damn certain there’s SOMETHING happening at Thal’darah Grove that’s in the middle of it, even if Dontrag and Utvoch aren’t exactly in the know about all the details…but before I go running over there, I want to check on what these goblin fuckers are working on at the Sludgewerks.
More updates soon.

“I think we made a good impression on the Warchief, Donty.” “Sort of, Ut.” “Sort of, as in how?” “Sort of, as in the ‘me’ part of the ‘we’.”
Krom’gar’s Fortress
There’s something rotten in Stonetalon Mountains. I’m still trying to figure out what the deal is, but there’s something going on around here that doesn’t sit right with me.
So I arrived at Krom’gar’s fortress a little while ago, only Krom’gar wasn’t around, which seems pretty weird. Not only that, but there aren’t nearly as many troops in the base as I would have figured. It’s like there’s just a skeleton crew left behind to man the fortress…which is strange, since it really seems like there was a pretty major attack here recently. Pieces of gnome aircraft and robo…attack…thingies…all around the place, and down in the basin around the fort, so I don’t know why Krom’gar would move men out just after the Alliance tried hitting them.
Then again, maybe the damn gnomes tried something, got their asses handed to them good and proper, and now Krom’gar and his troops are chasing their sorry butts down to finish them off. Which would be all kinds of awesome to see. Have I mentioned how much I fucking HATE gnomes, by the way? I mean okay, I hate humans and dwarves and night elves and spiders and woodchucks and rainy days, but I REALLY hate gnomes. It’s like they took everything that was annoying about goblins, cranked it up to eleven, took away the stuff that makes goblins tolerable (like how they help me set up blogs and shit), loaded them up with annoying voices and stupid hairdos and glued fucking springs to their asses. Do you SEE how they’re always fucking bouncing around? Is there anything more irritating than when you’re trying to fucking kill something and it doesn’t have the common decency to stop hopping around all over the place and just SIT. THE FUCK. STILL??
So yeah, I guess some gnomes were here.
I’m going to check around the area and see if I can figure out what the hell’s going on around here. I’ll check back in later today.