Tag Archives: goblins

I am become death

nazgrim

If you’ve been paying attention lately, you might have noticed I’ve been having a lot of contact with some of our people down in Brackenwall Village – Krog about the goings-on in Stonetalon, Draz’Zilb about his potential uber-corruption spell. It hasn’t been a coincidence.

No surprise to anyone that I’ve been on a pretty steady boil ever since I realized that Varian and Jaina were in the guild and must have heard me talking about where I was going with my mother last week. I don’t know why I should be shocked by anything these humans do at this point. Thing is, though, Varian I can at least see. I mean, make no mistake, I hate that motherfucker, but at least it makes sense for him to have it in for me as well, and he’s not one to make any pretenses about it. We’ve had bad blood going back to the Violet Citadel, probably further, not to mention he’s a hateful dimwitted warmongering orc-hating bigot, so of course he would grab any opportunity to strike at me. And if an innocent has to die in the process, all the better. It’s Varian. I get it.

But Jaina? THAT sticks in my craw. Let’s even set aside all the joking around and clowning I do on her and all the cracks about her being a slut which granted they’re totally true but not really germane to the conversation right now. But this is the woman who tried to play herself off as Little Miss Peacemaker. Always playing the diplomat, coming off like she’s the level-headed human willing to yank Varian back when he’s being an asshole (which, admittedly, probably kept her pretty busy). Always hiding behind her incomprehensible friendship with Thrall, like that made her better and nobler than the rest of her kind. Like she just wants to be our friend too.

And she was a part of this. Even if she wasn’t taking action herself, she knew. She was there. And all the while she probably kept on wearing her “Oh dear me, why can’t we all work together?” fake smile.

So guess what our first target is going to be.

I’ve been meeting with General Nazgrim to work out the logistics for our first strike on Theramore. We’re planning two waves. The first will be a ground strike launched out of Brackenwall, hitting the main gate of the city with several infantry detachments with artillery support. That initial wave will serve two purposes: one, to break down the city’s outer defenses and allow our troops to make their way inside, and two, to keep Theramore’s defenses focused on the main gate, while the second wave comes in by sea and hits the harbor.

The second wave will be the key one, and deceptively small. We’ll be bringing quite a few ships, but very few troops aside from the actual crews necessary to navigate the vessels. The real purpose of the naval strike will be to hit the harbor, land, and get a single squadron to deliver the real centerpiece of the attack: Draz’Zilb, bearer of the new experimental chain corruption spell.

Remember how I mentioned Draz’Zilb’s spell sounded promising, but needed to be tested until controlled conditions? Well Theramore is going to be our field test. Our troops are going to get Draz’Zilb into the city long enough for him to find a decent-size cluster of humans, cast the spell, and then get back to the harbor while the chain reaction begins. Once the spell is deployed, our incursion group will fire off a signal to let all our troops know it’s underway. At that point, EVERYONE will head to the ships – the ground troops near the front gate can be making their way around the outer walls toward the shore – and then get out of there by sea. Hence bringing so many ships when we didn’t have that many troops in the naval group.

It works out perfectly, really. Theramore makes the ideal test target: a solitary human colony, densely populated but easy enough to isolate. As much as Dustwallow Marsh is swarming with life, it’s mostly spiders, crocolisks…nothing that isn’t expendable. Black dragonkin, the last leftovers of Onyxia’s brood? Good riddance. Yeah, a couple Grimtotem settlements, but do you think I’m going to shed any tears over them? The whole marsh is separated from the rest of Kalimdor by mountains and sea, perfectly enclosed. No spreading of the chain corruption beyond that one zone, however it plays out.

I love when things work out neatly like that.

Nazgrim and I are getting the last details sorted out. I even got a couple of the goblins from the Gob Squad to come in and put together a scale model of Theramore and its environs for us here in the war room, to help plan out troop and ship placement.

The only small wrinkle is the ogres in Brackenwall, seeing as we don’t want to end up wiping them all out with the corruption. Would be kind of rude, what with it being Draz’Zilb’s spell and all. So I’m having most of the ogre population – the ones who won’t be going on the actual attack – relocated temporarily to Alcaz Island. They’ll be safely isolated there until everything blows over, plus we can even use the island as a staging ground for the naval strike.

Preparations are already underway. I’ve had the ogres moving in small numbers for the last couple of days, so we can do it gradually enough not to draw attention. A couple more days and they should be safely situated on the island, and then we’ll be ready to start. And if things go according to plan, pretty soon Sylvanas’ plague will have some competition over on the other continent.

 

 

[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!]

 

Aromatic Orgrimmar

org12

Okay, so, there weren’t any suggestions for today’s installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge, so instead, I went back to some of the previous posts and basically yanked together a few different ideas that I hadn’t used yet. Hence today’s installment! Just one left, guys — this Thursday will be the last entry in our April full o’ EPIC VERSE, so I’m counting on you all to dig down deep and give me some good options to work with! Don’t drop the ball here, folks! YOUR WARCHIEF HAS SPOKEN!

 

A bastion standing strong in harsh terrain,
The solitary hold of Durotar,
Where all misguided sieges fall in vain:
Behold the shining might of Orgrimmar.
The sights familiar glimmer in our eyes,
And sounds echoing in ears for all to tell,
But in the Spirit Valley, what surprise
To find the touchstone sense would be the smells.
To south, the goblin stench of industry
With Kaja’Cola undercurrents waft;
To north, the pungent herbal potpourri
That trolls with hookahs spew so very oft.
     And truly, that’s the scent that takes me back,
     To days in Northrend sniffing ’round Zul’Drak.

 

EPIC VERSE!

 

 

[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]

 

Locks in Socks

warlocks

Today’s installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – as always, keep those suggestions coming for next time in the comments section!

 

Locks
Socks
Docks
Brox

Brox on docks.

Locks in socks.

Brox on locks in socks on docks.

Socks on Brox and locks on docks.

Locks in socks on Brox on docks.

Trolls with bowls smoke.
Trolls with poles poke.
Trolls with poles poke bowls till holes broke.

Trolls extol their hole poke goals and
Trolls console their souls, smoke bowls and
Troll patrols troll souls with smoke and
Troll bowl smoke soaks folk who choke.

First I’ll make a troll bowl smoke hole.
Then I’ll make a troll pole poke hole.

You can make a troll bowl smoke hole.
You can make a troll pole poke hole.

And here’s a new goal, Mr. Brox…
Socks on trolls who troll on locks.
Locks on docks steal souls from trolls and
Trolls sans souls put pox on locks.

Now we come to DoTs and HoTs, sir.
DoTs and HoTs go tick and tock, sir.
DoT go tick and HoTs go tock, sir.
Try to say this, Mr. Brox, sir.

DoTs on hawks tick.
HoTs on Brox tock.
Six sick clicks DoT
Six hawk flocks up.

Hawk flocks DoT-up
Shock stalks fel pup.
Fel pup stalks hawk flocks to hell, yup.
Hawk flocks’ yell shocks fel pup locks and
Fel pups smell up dell on walks.

Now you try it, Mr. Brox, sir.
It is time we let you talk, sir.

“Please, sir. I don’t like this game, sir.
I am not this frigging lame, sir.
I get all the trolls and docks, sir,
Mixed up with the souls and socks, sir.
I can’t do it, Mr. Lock, sir.”

I’m so sorry, Mr. Brox, sir.

Here’s an easy game to play.
Here’s an easy thing to say…

Mean orcs.
Clean forks.
Seen forks?
Green orcs!

Green orcs eat pork meat with clean forks.
Clean orc forks beat sweet pork spleen corks.

Green orcs put clean forks in spleen meat.
Mean orcs put corks in sweet Tweet greet.

“That’s not easy, Mr. Lock, sir.”

Who limps?
Imp limps.
Sly wimp imp limps.

Who stocks sly wimp imps with limps?
Locks in socks stock imps with limps.
Wimp imp limps shock locks in socks while
Locks’ wimp imps stock box of socks.

Sly imps spy on locks in socks and
Spry imps, my, throw rocks at locks.
Limp rocks imp walks, blimp sky high! and
Wimp imp pimps for succubi.

“Hold on, hold on! That was stretching!
Those last few have got me retching!
That last one was rather lewd, sir.
I think you are very rude, sir!”

Sorry, sorry, Mr. Brox, sir.
Let’s continue our nice talk, sir.

Chen comes.
Genn comes.
Chen’s friends, then some.
Chen brings Genn cheer.
Genn brings Chen beer.

Genn mends Chen’s cheer.
Chen blends Genn’s beer.
Chen’s blends.
Genn’s mends.
Chen-blend beer spills.
Genn-mend cheer fills.

Chen’s chums. Genn’s glum.
Chen’s friends bend some.

Chen’s friends bend Genn’s cheer austere and
Genn’s blend tends to clear Chen’s fears.

Chen’s friends! Ten friends!
Mend Genn! When, Genn?
Chen’s ten friends send beer to Rend, sir.
Genn’s glum trend, forfend, the end, sir.

“My poor mouth can’t say that. No, sir.
My poor mouth is much too slow, sir.”

Well, then…let’s relieve your lungs.
I will lift this Curse of Tongues.

Let’s have a little talk about squabblin’ goblins…

What do you know about squabblin’ goblins? Well…

When squabblin’ goblins bicker,
It’s called squabblin’ goblin babble.

And when they babble even quicker,
It’s called squabblin’ goblin gabble babble.

AND when squabblin’ goblins babble during Scrabble in a gabble,
They call it a squabblin’ goblin Scrabble gabble babble.

AND…

When goblins squabble goblins in a Scrabble gabble babble
And the goblin gabble babble is a quibble over Scrabble,
…they call this a squabblin’ goblin Scrabble quibble gabble babble.

AND…

When the goblins have these quibbles over Scrabble when they babble and the goblins scribble gabbles over Scrabble taking “tribbles”…
…they call this a quibble babble tribble gabble squabblin’ Scrabble goblin scribble.

AND…

“Lock in socks, that’s quite enough, sir.
I won’t say this silly stuff, sir.
All this babble hurts my head, sir.
I’ll go back to being dead, sir.”

 

EPIC VERSE!

 

(Side note, by the way – I really feel like this poem, and Orc Lemon Squares from the other day, are really screaming out for illustrations. So if any of you are artistically inclined and think you might be interested in helping to enhance your Warchief’s EPIC VERSE to its fullest potential, contact me at garrosh1337@gmail.com. THAT IS AN ORDER.)

 

 

[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]

 

Mag’hari house guest

org2

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.]

 

What to get the Warchief who has everything

winterveil1

So Garona and I had our interrogation of Skarr, which ended up being pretty productive, and Mokvar was on hand to record it. He’s in the process of getting it transcribed for the blog, so you’ll see that soon. In the meantime, though, I’m back in Orgrimmar for the height of the Winter’s Veil season. So in the spirit of the holiday, I thought I’d take a break from all this serious averting-the-end-of-the-world stuff and write up a quick Winter’s Veil post or two.

A few days ago, @NavimieDruid from The Daily Frostwolf asked on Twitter, “What does a great warrior want from Greatfather Winter?” I gave her a quick response, but the thought occurred to me that this might be a good question to take up in an actual post, now that the Winter’s Veil season is here. So, here’s my wish list for this year – if Greatfather Winter really exists and is reading this, hey man, have at it…but anyone else planning to drop by Grommash Hold bearing gifts can feel free too:

  • A new helm to replace the latest one that’s turned out to be a size too big (two red sockets plus a meta pl0x).
  • Varian’s head on a pike.
  • Magatha’s head on a pike.
  • 40% fewer idiots in front of me.
  • 70% fewer idiots behind me.
  • Some adequate explanation as to why the idiots always seem to stack behind me.
  • A new set of elementium grinding stones for sharpening Gorehowl.
  • The OTHER fucking [Binding of the Windseeker]. (For real, Baron, do you NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND that I will actually STOP KILLING YOU if you just give the damn thing up?)
  • A Happy Fun Rock.
  • A red, padded, embossed leather harness for Mortimer.
  • A sled like the one I had as a kid during winters in Nagrand. For the life of me I don’t know what happened to the original, but man do I miss it. Bonus points if you can find one that has “Mageroyal” inscribed across the back like my old one.
  • A firm answer from the goblin contractors on when the Orgrimmar construction work will be done. Seriously, you guys, it’s been over a fucking year now.
 

Camel Horde-r

steampools

Writing this from the Steam Pools. The settlement by the pools is actually a resort run by goblins out of Gadgetzan…pretty pricey, actually, although you’d be surprised the deals you can get when you beat three or four members of the staff within an inch of their lives. (And by an inch of their lives, by the way, I mean a total sum of an inch between the lot of them.) Best deals anywhere indeed!

On the way up here I actually thought I might have stumbled onto another lead with the whole Twilight thing. As I was flying over the pools, I spotted an oversized ettin wandering around, and since I know the Twilight’s Hammer people have ettins working for them, I went in to check on it. Turns out this particular ettin – huge one too – was pretty irritable, and started giving me some incoherent-grunting lip, so I had to smack him down a couple times. Or three. Or nine. Or, well, however many it was until he stopped breathing. Moral of story, people need to stop being so hostile when I’m in the neighborhood. I mean, if you take the first swing, I’m GOING to take the last swing. Granted, if I take the first swing, I’m going to take the last swing, too…but looking at it that way, pretty much the only way you’re even going to have a CHANCE at ending up body-bag-free if to hold back, cross your fingers, and hope I’m not looking to start something. It’s really just about the math.

Anyway, punch line is, the ettin dude was carrying around some gray camel on his back (yeah, I know, I TOLD you he was big), so when I dropped him, he dropped the camel, which then took a shine to me and started following me around. So I had to lead it on back to the resort and stable it there. The thing still seems pretty attached, so I might end up taking it back to Orgrimmar later on, but damned if I know what to feed a fucking camel.

I’m checked in now at the inn. Garona should be here soon to compare notes. Updates to follow.

 

Monday mailbag

mail14

I’m writing this from Brackenwall Village. (Thank goodness Spazzle set me up with some kind of why-fly doohicky that lets me still access the blog from out here, because believe you me, the ogres aren’t exactly pimped out when it comes to computer resources.) I’ve been in Dustwallow for a bit, but so far I haven’t had the chance to get working on the Grimtotem prisoner. Not long after I arrived, a Grimtotem raiding party attacked the village, so we were pretty busy fighting them off.

(Or, rather, most of the others here were pretty busy standing around watching in awe while I fought them off. Gotta admit, I do have kind of a thing for killing Grimtotem.)

Anyway, as you might imagine, that didn’t go so well for them. Still, it ate up a whole lot of time, and right now Dontrag and Utvoch are leading scouting parties to try to track down the survivors. Once they get back, and Krog and the ogres are done shoring up the defenses (we’re probably going to step up patrols just to be safe), we can get back to work.

In the meantime I figured I could take care of this week’s mailbag. Just a couple letters this week, but they’re pretty good ones. The first one, in fact, wasn’t even sent to me directly, but was posted online as a sort of open letter, and I thought it might be fitting for me to offer an open response. Here’s a short excerpt:

Dear Warchief Hellscream,

On behalf of myself and my co-workers Thathung and Grimful, I, Wabang, would like to announce that we are laying down our axes in peaceful protest, to formally ask you to give us back our former jobs as proud Orgrimmar Auctioneers.

I know when you became Warchief you thought you were doing us a favor by “freeing us” from what you called boring, tedious bookkeeper jobs. We could see how happy you were when you told us that we could finally don our armor and brandish our axes like the proud orc warriors we were, and not be stuck behind a desk any longer.

We appreciate the gesture, Warchief. We really do. It’s just that…well…we kind of liked being Auctioneers.

You may not realize this, but Thathung, Grimful and myself chose to be Auctioneers. We were not forced into it. We all carefully studied and honed our arithmetic to be able to perform an Auctioneer’s speedy calculations, and as you are no doubt aware, private tutoring by the Blood Elves is not cheap. Now that we have lost our jobs as Auctioneers, we can no longer afford to pay our outstanding debts, and the Grand Magister gets rather nasty/polymorphy when he is not paid.

This is just a small snippet of the original letter, which I’d really highly recommend everyone going and reading in full. In fact, go do that now. I’ll wait.

You done? Wait, no? The hell, dude? Go read it.

No, seriously.

I’m waiting.

Okay, that’s better. Now on with business.

And yeah, hoo boy, here we go. Look, Wabang, I understand that you’re not thrilled with the arrangement. To tell you the truth, I’m not so happy about it myself. That is, you’re right on the one hand – all things being equal, I’d rather have orcs like you and Thathung and Grimful fighting like the orcish soldiers that you are, and it DOES make sense to have the goblins tending to things like the auction house and the bank, what with them being a whole lot less useful on the battlefield. But I also hate to have you guys pushed out of the jobs that you liked.

I’m not going to try to hide behind it being some deal we cut. Sure, Thrall was the one who made arrangements with Gallywix to bring the Bilgewater Cartel into the Horde, but first of all, he didn’t make him any special promises as far as jobs or privileges the goblins would be getting, and second and more importantly, really, even if he did, I wouldn’t give two shits about pissing off Gallywix. It’s fucking GALLYWIX, for fuck’s sake – if anything the thought of annoying him is a bonus.

So here’s what it comes down to: right now in Orgrimmar, we’ve got way more people than we have jobs to keep them occupied. The sudden influx of goblins didn’t help matters. People like to give me grief over the slums that we’ve got in Orgrimmar right now, but contrary to what they might tell you, that wasn’t by design. It’s just reality – after the Cataclysm, frankly, we only had so many resources to do so much rebuilding, and some part of town was going to end up getting the short end of the stick. And when it came time to divvy up the areas, yeah, the least desirable part of town got left to the latest arrivals. Well, them and the trolls. But I don’t need to go on about them. (Side note: if the goblins and trolls are going to complain about their slum, have them take a look over in the Valley of Wisdom. Not my fault if the tauren in Thunder Bluff were willing to send their people extra resources to pretty the place up.)

But more to the point…here were the goblins, stuck in the low-rent district without much in the way of belongings, and pretty much no jobs to do. The one thing they’re good at collectively is business. So into the auction house and bank they went…thing is, though, those auctioneers aren’t really raking it in as much as you might think. Because they’re actually not working just for themselves. That was part of their contract, in fact. They’re actually in there working, pretty much, on behalf of the majority of the goblins over in the slums. Whatever they’re making is getting channeled back over to that part of town to keep the whole cartel stocked with whatever they need. And don’t think for a minute that it doesn’t pain the goblins to have to keep their heads above water through a system that you could pretty reasonably describe as “redistribution of wealth.”

And here’s the ugly truth of it, too, Wabang. The goblins as a group needed something. But just as important…you guys CAN do something else. Frankly, they can’t. So – as I’m sure you’ll appreciate given your training – it really just comes down to the math.

Here’s one other thing, too. While hiring the goblins to run the auction house makes sense in some ways, I have to admit I still don’t trust them entirely. Not least of all because of Gallywix, but I mean, also, come on, they’re goblins. (I don’t want to be getting any texts over that one, Spazzle.) And along those lines…I do think that you might have taken your assignment a little too much at face value. I mean…when I told you I wanted you to keep an eye on the auction house, Wabang, yeah, you were being assigned to stand guard…but like…I also want you to keep an eye on it, if you see what I mean. Because…you know…just sayin’…if someone were to catch the goblins doing something sketchy, skimming money off the top that they’re not supposed to, pulling a fast one on some of the higher-priced Firelands loot…well, believe you me, I wouldn’t be reluctant at all to reevaluate the current staffing situation.

Now, who would I put in charge of watching out for stuff like that? Spirits know I wouldn’t be able to catch something like that – have you seen the attic in Grommash Hold? I can barely keep my own junk organized. So what would we need to catch any shady business? Hmm, well, someone with an extensive mathematical background, a sharp financial mind, someone who already knows the ins and outs of a pretty complicated system so they can spot abuses and loopholes…but if I were going to give someone a job like that, I couldn’t be obvious about it. Say what you want about the goblins, but they’re not idiots. If I stick a bookkeeper right next to them and tell them they’re going to be having their every move watched, they’re sure as hell going to make sure that they either don’t do anything sketchy at all, or they go to MUCH greater lengths to keep it covered. So the way to do it would be to plant someone with the appropriate skills nearby, keep them in a position to keep a close watch, but in a role that would still make sense for them (say, I don’t know, an orcish grunt) in an assignment that would be justified (like, oh what the hell, an armed guard watching over a room full of valuables).

Just food for thought, Wabang. Hang in there and we’ll see what else we can do to help make life a little smoother for you guys.

 

Hail, Warchief!

During my tours of duty with the Horde Medical Corps, I have noticed some … puzzling behavior. Something just isn’t quite right with the Warsong Clan.

I understand what the Frostwolves are all about: kicking Dwarf butt from one end of the valley to the other, then showing them the exit. And I understand what the Defilers are up to: capturing resources for our use, and/or denying them to the Alliance. (Either one works.) I get what the Kor’Kron are doing on the Isle of Conquest. Most of our field armies have sensible, understandable goals.

Then, I arrive at Warsong Gulch.

I follow a couple of Horde soldiers, and we infiltrate the Sentinels’ stronghold. We make our way to the center, I’m thinking to take out their commander. But no, they snatch the flag, and bolt. We promptly retire to Warsong Hold, and then one of them taunts the Silverwing from our parapets.

It was about this time that I realized that the Silverwing were trying to do exactly the same thing to us.

No one was gathering resources, or preventing the enemy from doing the same. No one was trying to interfere with the enemy’s command and control. Seemingly, it was all about grabbing flags and talking smack.

Ordinarily I wouldn’t care. But now they’ve got the Dragonmaw doing it, too. Have they both gone nuts? Or am I missing something obvious?

–A Concerned Citizen

See, ACC, this is what happens when people totally lose sight of their history. The whole flag-capturing deal in Warsong Gulch actually did make sense once upon a time, but after a few years, and some serious turnover in the personnel there (on both sides, apparently), it seems like nobody remembers the point of it all. This is actually a classic case of what happens when people blindly go through the motions without bothering to learn the reasons why.

So, a teachable moment from Garrosh! Lucky you!

So okay. Once upon a time, when Grommash was chieftain of the Warsong Clan, and Horde and Alliance were both going balls-to-the-wall to try to gain control of Ashenvale and its resources, both sides would have regular air drops of supplies. Armaments, explosives, rations, everything. Sometimes even heavy equipment, as we started to become able to bring in zeppelins for supply runs. With the airships we have these days, I’m sure you can see the possibilities.

Anyway, though, if you’ve ever flown over Ashenvale, you also know how bloody impossible is can be to see where anything is down there. It’s nothing but dense forest as far as you can see in every direction (dense forest that’s been fucking dipped in glitter, no less), and even in the areas that have been cleared out, there’s still a lot of visual interference that would make it hard to target those air drops properly. So way back in the beginning, both sides would use flags to mark the drop sites for their couriers. One side or the other would have a spot marked, wyverns or hippogryphs would fly on in, spot the flag, drop the goods, boom. With all the back and forth between the two battling sides, too, the flag system just made more sense, because by the time the supplies were airborne, the battle lines could have shifted, one side or the other could have lost control of one of their bases…it just made sense as a way of signaling where a secure spot would be.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, someone had the bright idea that hey, if we could go steal one of the Silverwing’s flags, we could stop them from getting the supplies they need. What’s more, if we bring THEIR flag back over to an area that WE control, we could trick the Alliance couriers into delivering their supplies to US instead! So, double win! So from that point, the Warsong Outrunners would launch regular raids to try to steal the Silverwing flags. Eventually, the Silverwing caught on and started doing the same. At that point, it became a much bigger deal to keep control of our own flag, too – there’s not much benefit in stealing their flag to get their supplies, after all, if they’ve gotten our flag to steal OUR supplies, right? That’s just a wash. Hell, it might even be a loss – whose supplies do you think are going to be better, theirs or ours? Horde pride, bitches! Lok’tar!

So all of this actually made sense. But apparently, somewhere along the line, both sides started losing sight of the actual reason behind the strategy, and just started fixating on the flag-stealing thing. Which…is really kind of sad, when you think of it. I might have to look into assigning some new leadership up there, so our forces can actually have some remote fucking notion of what they’re doing again.

As for the Dragonmaw…you’ve got me. I might have to take this up with Warlord Zaela again. (Even money on whether she’ll use the occasion to start flirting with me again.  Which I’m sure will set off a whole other mailbag.)