Tag Archives: karazhan
#500 GIANT-SIZED (not really) ANNIVERSARY (kind of) SPECIAL
Okay, people, I know we’ve got a hell of a lot going on these days on a whole bunch of fronts, but let’s get our damn priorities straight and take a moment to APPRECIATE THE GODDAMN AWESOMENESS OF ME.
Why, you ask? AS IF YOU NEED A REASON. But okay, fine, be that way. Even though you should already be in a constant state of awe over your Warchief, today marks an EXTRA SPECIAL awesome, awe-inspiring, awful… wait. I think I just took a wrong turn there.
…
IT’S A SPECIAL GODDAMN OCCASION IS WHAT I’M SAYING.
Reason being, the post you see before you marks the 500th BLOG POST here on the Warchief’s Command Board. That’s right, bitches, 500 posts — that’s FIVE ZERO ZERO. Go ahead and count ’em. I KNOW YOU WON’T.
But that’s where we are, people — 500 installments of EVERYBODY’S FAVORITE BLOG EVER. And riddle me this: have you read them all?
Yeah, me neither.
I mean, there were a bunch in there by guest posters like Spazzle and Mokvar, and I like those guys and everything, but not enough to actually give a shit about what they have to say about… like… anything. But whatever — like trees falling in the forest with no one there to hear them, those guests posts still… um… make a… sound when they…crash the server and… um… that is…
OKAY, THAT ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME A LITTLE, TOO. I MAY OR MAY NOT BE WORKING ON A COUPLE DRINKS, OKAY, SO STFU.
Anyhow. I’d like to thank all my loyal readers, and say that I couldn’t have done it without you. I’d LIKE to say that, but I can’t, because I totally could have. Let’s be real, scrubs, I’m the awesome one here, not you. THERE’S A REASON WHY YOU’RE READING MY BLOG AND NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, NOW ISN’T THERE?
But still, the occasion calls for something special, so in keeping with this month’s theme — I DO have a Poetry Challenge in progress, after all — I figured I’d take a look back at a 500-stack of EPIC the only proper way EPIC gets done:
That “LOK’TAR OGAR!” that I blogged for a starter;
I met D&U, but my wyvern’s way smarter;
Krom’gar dropped a bomb, but I dropped his ass harder;
EO gaming, “why fly” malaprop.
Twilights on a mission for that Cho’gall demon;
Ogres versus Grimtotem, and Magatha schemin’;
Johnny Awesome, beat it; Garona, keep dreamin’;
Saurfang took a turn watching the shop.
That time I went AWOL, then I was recovered;
Grabby Mylune hugged me till I damn near smothered;
Garadar reunion with my long-lost mother;
Year one challenge, rhymes of locks in socks.
Mom was just a cruel trick Magatha unraveled;
Trouble for Forsaken; Tirion’s endless babble;
Head to old Southshore thanks to FUCKING TIME TRAVEL;
Human Faranell’s a paradox.
Psycho!Mylune rampaged, eyes more wild than dewy;
Edwin fucked the past up; all the timelines went screwy;
We straightened them out; Theramore went kablooey;
Went to Karazhan to spin some tunes.
Pandas showed up teaching how anger is managed;
Got myself some trainees: DPS advantage;
Someone ganked Mokvar; he ankhed and wound up bandaged;
Rolled up on Pandaria with my goons.
Gurtash started drawing; Vol’jin stopped his breathing;
Cloudfall spoke of destiny and got me near believing;
Mokvar met Magatha, that one had me seething;
He went off the grid — he’d best run far.
Lor’the’whatsit’s bitching still; I got pounced by Tak;
Snagged the Divine Bell; that’s when Jaina blew her stack;
DPS got lost, but I (mostly) got them back;
Meet my daughter, Shay. (Have a cigar.)
Shay’s mage class was hard, her sucker punch was hardest;
Mokvar reappeared with green fire from the Black Harvest;
Gurtash got blindsided, we were down an artist;
Made an offer Blackfuse can’t refuse.
Green-eyed wolf named Golmash acting pretty fishy;
Gurtash still needs training not to be so squishy;
Utvoch got promoted, but I kinda wish he
And Dontrag weren’t always so confused.
EPIC VERSE and lemon squares, endless reader mail;
Ruekie getting ruekied; eternal minion fail;
Mortimer’s a badass; Shayari’s hunting sales;
Earth Online guild chat is always strange.
FYV; #LadiesLoveMe, ’cause they’re not slumming;
Trolls are always trolling, dumbasses are dumbing;
500 down so far, a thousand more coming!
Okay, maybe. Times could always change.
EPIC VERSE!
Keep checking in, people. The EPIC DROPS are only just warming up.
LOK’TAR!
More verbal sparring, of a feline nature
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
GARONA HALFORCEN
VS.
SHAYARI
BEGIN!
GARONA:
Help me out here, princess, ’cause I need some guidance,
For how an A-lister drew a fan-fic contrivance.
From the Horde to Alliance, they all know my defiance;
But your own dad didn’t even know you’re alive, and
Now you’re eye candy loading up a shopping bag,
But you couldn’t be the it girl in a game of tag.
So Garona’s answer when they ask what no-name she wrecked:
Half broken, half outcast makes one whole reject.
SHAYARI:
You can stealth, but your crazy never strikes without warning,
’Cause we all know you’re more maintenance than a Tuesday morning.
We’re both draenei and orc, but one thing can perplex me:
How’d you get the “deformed” while I got all the sexy?
Now I know that you’re jealous, but the green’s still okay –
But don’t you think you’re kind of old to rock those pigtails in gray?
You must have a goblin stylist, ’cause your look’s straight Ratchet;
Every pass you made at Garry, he declined to catch it.
Now my mom’s another story, but don’t be mad at me;
’Cause all the hashtag-LadiesLoveMyD-A-D.
So wake up and smell the kafa, ’cause it’s understood,
You’re getting creamed, sugar; I make half-and-half look good.
GARONA:
Go back to school, daddy’s girl, you’ve still got plenty to learn;
You need to spec out of frost, based on the heat of those burns.
Looking good’s all you’ve got – no tales or triumphs in stock;
You’d best walk a few steps before you try to talk.
’Cause as much as you squawk, it’s no position to mock
When your achievement panel hasn’t even been unlocked.
My accomplishments are legend, my prowess proclaimed;
No one outside of blog nerds even knows of your name.
I’ve fought in two wars, traveled dimensional warps;
The best that you can do is beating on a dead corpse.
I was Emissary to the Guardian of Karazhan;
You’re a mage who couldn’t cut it in Dalaran.
SHAYARI:
You’ve got history, granny, but let’s look at the tale,
Because a blank slate’s still better than a chalkboard of fail:
You turned on King Llane, brought Medivh to his end –
Too bad you can’t kill these rhymes the way you kill all your friends.
Gul’dan’s lackey, Cho’gall’s tool – just the record, not opinion;
Even at your most legendary, you’re someone’s minion.
So keep grinding out your legend, Ronie, I won’t linger,
’Cause my ring’s the Warchief I’ve got wrapped around my finger.
WHO WON?
WHO’S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE!
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
Monday mailbag
Okay, people, it’s been WAY too long since I’ve dipped into the ol’ mailbag, and I have a HUGE backlog of letters, so let’s get right to it, shall we?
The Feast of Winter Veil is approaching, and it made me think. What do you hope to get from Greatfather Winter this year? Do you have any special family traditions? I look forward to seeing Orgrimmar all decorated for the festivities.
Happy Holidays!
–Lorewalker Shara
PS you may want to avoid using tinsel to decorate around Mortimer, unless you like festive poop! Might be a good idea to keep Taktani away from it too, thinking about it.
Hey, Shara, thanks for writing. Hopefully Orgrimmar is looking all Winter Veily these days. I’ll be back for a check-in soon, but I’m probably only going to make it back to town JUST in time to catch the end of the festivities. As for my wish list… I remember addressing this point a couple years ago, and most of the stuff on that list still stands – especially Varian and Magatha’s heads on pikes – but there are a few more things I can think of that I might add to the list for this year.
- An actual explanation that makes sense for what the hell was going on with Mokvar while I was away.
- A wireless network here in Pandaria that’s actually reliable, so I can log onto Earth Online without it being a fucking comedy show.
- An on-site goblin tech guy who can maintain that network without the whole thing going kablooey and spitting out two burnt pieces of toast every time there’s a breeze, because let me tell you, Grizzle Gearslip ain’t happening.
Come to think of it, so far all of these could pretty much be covered if I could get a bunch more Spazzles. Because really, as much as I clown on the guy, he actually knows what he’s doing and gets shit done, and unlike half these other jokers, I don’t have to worry about him running around behind my back doing spirits-know-what. So, other additions to the list:
- A scribe that doesn’t have traitorous tendencies, a busted-up writing hand, or the disposition of a six-year-old on a sugar high from eating all the Hallow’s End candy EVER.
- The secret to controlling the sha.
- A First War commemorative chess set. This is the normal-sized, less creepy version of the chess set Medivh had over in Karazhan. It’s been rumored to be in the works for years, and I’ve finally started to see them showing up on ebAH. Yes, I play chess. Don’t act all surprised, for fuck’s sake.
- Varian’s head on a pike. Did I mention this one?
As far as having family traditions for Winter Veil…not really. I mean, keep in mind, Winter Veil is a pretty recent thing for us Mag’har. We didn’t have Winter Veil back in Nagrand, so we only started picking it up at all after Thrall came out to Garadar a few years ago. Greatmother Geyah really has taken a liking to it, but that’s about it. Plus, not to get maudlin and shit, but it’s kind of hard to have family traditions when you don’t really have a family. I mean, I never knew my dad, and my mom died when I was young. I’m an only child. As far as I know. Assuming Grom wasn’t a bigger pimp than anybody’s given him credit for. Anyhow, point being, Greatmother is pretty much the only family I’ve got nowadays, and even SHE’s not a blood relation – she’s just the one that raised me after Lakkara died. So, yeah. AREN’T YOU HAPPY YOU BROUGHT THAT UP? BET YOU FEEL PROUD.
I am in desperate need of your assistance. I approached Regent Lord Lor’themar with my issue but he said that it was beyond his scope and directed me to contact you.
I recently inherited a house and it is in terrible need of redecoration. You have done a great deal of renovation recently and I was wondering if you could give me some tips to make my house look amazing. Attached is a picture of the house.
Thanks,
–Tegwin
Grats on the new house, Tegwin. Not so grats on the place looking like such a shithole. Because, yeah, that place needs some work. I mean, seriously…the wispy, billowy day-glow curtains? A bearskin rug with the bear head still attached? Strewn out there like you’re getting ready to do a photo shoot you already know you’re going to regret in five years? And… Is…is that a hookah? Just sitting there, right out in the open, in the living room? What are you, one semester removed from college and stuck with a slacker troll roommate who keeps swearing he’ll have his half of the rent this month, and this time he means it, mon, only you know perfectly well that’s not happening because felweed’s a hell of a drug?
So, okay, a few things. You have to lose the pastels, first of all. I know that probably goes against every last one of your blood elf sensibilities, but trust me on this. You want strong, commanding colors – the kind that will make people think “Holy fuck, some serious shit goes on in this place” when they walk in. Lots of reds and grays. Err on the side of darker. Go too dark with the red and you get a bloody crimson, which is still pretty badass. Go too light and you get pink. See where I’m going with this?
Mount some weapons on the walls. If you haven’t cleaned them lately and they’ve got some bloodstains, all the better. It adds to the color scheme I’m talking about, plus it conveys a message of “This person is not to be fucked with.” Spikes. You can never have too many spikes. Or skulls. Get some skulls in there. If you can carve up the body of one of your enemies and, say, make their skull into a chair for yourself, awesome. Or maybe turn their bones into an end table. A hat rack will do in a pinch. If you haven’t killed any notable enemies lately, but you’ve got an infamous foe that you really only know by reputation but somebody in your family killed, and you have THEIR remains somewhere handy, that’s just as good, because that fucker was brought down by your bloodline (AGAIN NOTICE THE BLOOD MOTIF) and you totally deserve to share credit for the accomplishment.
This is all for your living room, of course, and I know my tastes can be a little hardcore. I figured you might want to take it down a notch or two for your bedroom, so I went to Garona to get a woman’s opinion. Didn’t get very far, though. I told her I had a question about the bedroom and tried to ask her if she matches her rugs and curtains, or words to that effect, but she just got all pissy for some reason. So, not much help there. I seriously don’t know what’s up with her sometimes.
Speaking of which…
I’m writing this letter to you in secret and I hope it gets to you and I’m not killed in the process. *looks around*
It’s about Garona Halforcen. Sir, she scares the everliving shi—uh—crap out of me. *looks around again*
I happened upon some history stuff about her and now I’m all confused. She was there when the first invasion from the Dark Portal, then she had a kid with an old man, and she is half-orc, half-dradne dranin demon *looks up spelling* DRAENAI. (She looks like an orc. Smells like one too. I don’t see it.)
Now I’m all confused and sitting in a dark tunnel with a lot of thinking time had me thinking about her again.
What I want to know…*looks around*
How old is she? She’s got to be like….ANCIENT. *hides paper, looks around*
She doesn’t make sense and I don’t want to ask her. She’s scary.
–Ruekie, Shaman In Training
PS: There’s a lot of talk lately with the orc kids about the Red Pox, and if there is something scarier than Garona it’s that. I heard you had it once. Did it hurt? Can you get it again? Can we get it? Can an outbreak happen again? Too many questions and we are getting freaked out. Like FREAKED out. Really.
Okay, first of all… Um, Ruekie, you realize we were JUST in those caves all alone and out of earshot of Garona, right? Not sure why you didn’t just ask your questions THEN, but whatever. Kids.
First, the Red Pox? No, seriously, you don’t want to get into the Red Pox, that was just a bad scene all around. I don’t know why you kids would be talking about it now, but really, just let that shit die. Nobody needs to be digging up THOSE memories for anybody.
Okay, now that that’s settled, on to your main point. Yeah, I’ll grant you the scary thing with Garona. Scariest bitch I know who hasn’t come back from the dead. Although it’s probably a sad statement about my life that the list of people I know who HAVE come back from dead is a lot longer than you would figure. Because – I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before – NOBODY STAYS FUCKING DEAD ANYMORE.
Anyway, here’s the deal with Garona. Yeah, she’s half orc, half draenei. Back in the day, Gul’dan bred an orc and a draenei to create a personal assassin – enter Garona. Yeah, she looks mostly orcish, but I guess these racial mixes are kind of a crap shoot as far as which race’s physical traits you get.
Anyhow, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure exactly when Gul’dan actually orchestrated her birth. I know it was definitely before the Dark Portal opened, and that was about 30 years ago, but before that, there was a window of about 20 years when Gul’dan was up to some Really Bad Shit, so the breeding experiment could have happened anywhere in there. Let’s shave off the first couple years to give Gul’dan time to come up with this idea and for Garona to be brought to term. That would mean that Garona would have to be anywhere from, say, 32 (She’s not. Seriously. I’m 35. There’s no damn way she’s younger than me.) to around 48 or so. Anywhere in between, your guess is as good as mine.
Hang on, though – this gets more complicated when you add the fact that Gul’dan had Garona aged magically so that she could get right to work, no childhood needed. Swell guy, huh? Anyway, the age of adulthood among orcs varies a little from clan to clan, usually somewhere from 13 to 15. (Yeah, I know, kid, can you believe it? Technically you’re an adult. Hard to imagine you’re a grown-up, huh? Well, let me clue you in on a little secret: That thought won’t stop seeming weird for another 20 years.) So that would mean, however old Garona is according to the calendar, she really has the body of a woman 13-some-odd years older. So now we’re looking at a physical age putting her somewhere between 45 and, like, 60-something. Which is kind of a big deal when you consider that 70 is about as old as you could reasonably hope to live as an orc, even if you do a perfect job taking care of yourself.
Oh, but hang on, we’re not done yet. It’s about to get more complicated. (Don’t look at me – I didn’t make this shit up.) Because, see, since Garona has that draenei half, her aging is even more fucked up. Draenei live for…like…forever. I mean seriously, I think the average draenei lifespan is something like “infinity minus twelve.” So you mix THOSE genes in with our good, wholesome “70 if you’re super lucky” orcish genes, and…well… You’ve got a woman who’s technically, like, 40, only with the body of a 53-year-old, only not really because 53 doesn’t mean anywhere near the same thing to the draenei part of her, so…um… Who the fuck knows?
She’s old, okay? Only she’s kind of not. Only she is. Whatever – you go figure it out. Meanwhile I’m going to go check around the room and make sure there aren’t any whooshing sounds coming from the corners.
The following is written in elegant, but slightly shaky, cursive script on pale peach-colored parchment paper
My dear little Roshy,
How are you doing? I have missed you. It’s beautiful here in Nagrand – we’re having the most glorious late-fall weather. I hope all is well in Orgrimmar.
Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend? Sounds serious too… She has been sending me letters telling me about how deeply in love you both are, and has included many pictures of you with little hearts and flowers drawn on them. She says you’re getting married in the spring? Why didn’t you mention it? You would think you’d keep your own family informed, dear. We’ll have to have a little chat the next time you visit. You are coming home for Winter Veil, are you not?
Also, you should take some pictures of the two of you together. And perhaps find a new photo studio. These look like they were printed on magazine paper instead of proper photo paper. I can’t properly frame them for display, especially not with the lipstick kisses smeared all over them.
All my love,
–Greatmother Geyah.
Hold on, hold on, what… how the… it… GODDAMMIT, SOMEBODY IS FALSIFYING RECORDS OF THEIR WARCHIEF, and…and… Oh fucking hell, now I’m going to have to go out there and explain Photoshop to her. It was bad enough when I had the bright idea to try to show her the internet. Nothing in my e-mail for two months but forwarded pictures of wyverns asking for cheeseburgers. And WHO is this woman who’s…ugh. You know what? I don’t even think I want to know. Even though I can probably think of a couple likely suspects.
Now I’m just imagining somewhere in Orgrimmar there’s a dim, candle-lit room with walls covered by pictures of me, and…no, no, don’t even go any further with that, Garrosh. That way madless lies.
And now on top of everything, I have to squeeze in a trip to Nagrand before Winter Veil totally runs out on me, or I’m never going to hear the end of it. Ugh. Maybe I’ll bring Gurtash, and see if I can maybe distract her a little with the cute kid factor. Or Ruekie? I bet she’d like Ruekie. Plus Rook might want someplace to hide anyway, what with her probably having Garona out for her head as soon as this post goes live.
Very good to hear you have escaped the Saurok caves unharmed. The Horde would be in a very dire position if we were to lose our leader.
I do have one question. Have you ever thought of asking a mage if they could manage to conjure lemon squares? I have no complaints, but the same old sticky buns are a bit tiring after some time (not to mention they turn stale and hard as a rock after some time sitting in a bag). Perhaps you should collaborate with my wife? I am sure she would be very good to collaborate with, or maybe another mage closer to your location.
Regards,
–Shen-Wei Pureblossom
Thanks for writing, Shen-Wei. You know, I HAVE thought of this lemon squares angle before, but here’s the thing. First off, there was a point around this time last year that I really thought Gija down in the Cleft of Shadow was on to something, but the problem is, lemon squares don’t really lend themselves to conjuring, apparently. I mean, you can abracadabra up some pastries that are sorta, KINDA in the same ballpark as lemon squares, but you can tell they’re not the real thing. It’s like the drop-off from real leather to that fake shit that the damn DEHTA hippies try to pass off and think they’re fooling anybody. And once you’re used to eating the real thing, I mean, come on. It would be like going from having me as Warchief to, I don’t even know, a fucking TROLL or something.
Second of all, having spent my whole life eating those lemon squares, let me tell you, we don’t need mages recreating Greatmother’s recipe, because IT’S ALREADY MAGICAL. (See? See how I’m already working on smoothing things over with her? For real, I’m so fucking diplomatic you could just shit a brick.)
Also, even setting all that aside… Nothing personal, but I don’t take anybody up on any suggestions that include the phrase “perhaps you should collaborate with my wife” ever since the Incident That Shall Not Be Discussed over at Tharl Stonebleeder’s house. Now stop making me think about things that cannot be unthought. MOVING ON.
Rumors are flying that there is a red pox outbreak. Is this anything like the scourge?
–Kelytas, Blood Elf Paladin, Borean Tundra
Wait, again with the Red Pox? No! We’re not going to talk about the Red Pox. Why the fuck is everybody so curious about the Red Pox all of a sudden?
I really enjoyed that Photo-Op you had with King Varian a while ago. I couldn’t help but notice that King Varian had a wonderful tousled-Anime-pigtail thing going on that was at the same time sexy but tough, and you…well, you just look cranky.
I checked in with the Couturier Barbershop in downtown Orgrimmar and was quite frankly shocked at the dismal array of hairstyles available. An up-swept Mohawk with a scarf? Are you kidding me?
I know you might have a couple of things on your plate right now but seriously, you really need to look into this before the entire Horde start looking like extras from Naxxramas.
Maybe you could contact King Varian, find out who does his hair and we could have a Stylist Exchange with one of our Barbers so they could learn some new hair techniques and bring back the Glory of the Horde.
I also noticed that our Tailors are in desperate need of new patterns. Malevolent-style silk pantaloons? Really? That is so last-season…
–A Concerned Fashionista Blood Elf
Lor’themar, is that you?
Yeah, let me get right on that. I’ll send a special diplomatic courier right over to Stormwind with a note that says, “Who does your hair??” Yeah, that would go over great, I’m sure.
Hmm. Actually, come to think of it, a message like that would probably seem SO weird to Varian that it might fuck with his head a little. Like, I can totally imagine him reading that and thinking, “Garrosh wouldn’t give a shit about my hair…WHAT IS HE UP TO?” And then he gets all paranoid and shit. And meanwhile I’m just sitting back and not doing anything, and the longer this goes on the more paranoid he gets – ESPECIALLY when it’s time for him to go to the barber, because, hey, THIS IS WHAT GARROSH WAS ASKING ABOUT. And maybe he gets so messed up and suspicious that he stops going to the barber altogether, and his hair grows and grows, and finally he’s just got this total mess of a rat’s nest on his head, until maybe he eventually can’t stand it anymore and shaves it all off and ends up bald. Same as me.
There you have it, ACFBE. Problem solved. Garrosh comes out ahead of the curve yet again. Boom.
I’m studying Orcish History at school and need to write an essay. I thought I’d write about the Red Pox and it’s impact, and I thought it would be neat if I could quote you on the subject, if you don’t mind.
I know it was a terrible illness, but there aren’t any first-hand records that I’ve been able to find. What was it like to live with the Red Pox? Do you remember much from those years? Did you notice any major differences between Orcish society as a whole and the way Orcs lived in Garadar? Pretty much anything you can remember would be great.
Thanks!
–Anonymous Scholar, Orgrimmar
Okay, so at least NOW I have some idea of why everybody’s got the Red Pox on the brain this week. So okay, fine, just this once I’ll talk about it, seeing as I’m probably one of the only Red Pox survivors a lot of these kids will have the chance to meet.
It sucked.
What, you wanted more? FINE.
I’m not going to waste time going over the symptoms, because there must already be records of that, and I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants to spend our lunch break reviewing my childhood vomiting habits. But yeah, I had it as a kid, and even setting aside the physical suffering of it all, I can’t stress enough how much of an effect it had on the culture of Garadar. I mean, you asked if there were any major differences between Garadar society and orcish society as a whole? Fuck, what WASN’T different? The Red Pox hung over our whole culture. It touched everything. We had whole generations who were born and died – prematurely, granted – under the bane of that thing. That was the worst part of it, really – the sense of resignation it left us with. It was like, for a lot of us, there was this sense that the Red Pox came for our grandparents, and then it came for our parents, and now it’s going to come for us.
Over the years, our shaman kept working to find a cure, and every so often there would be a glimmer of hope that maybe they had something. But then there would always be some disaster that would undo it. After a while that became part of the gloom and doom of it – the shaman would come up with a new possibility, and you never quite stopped hoping, but deep down you were thinking, “Okay, let’s see what fucks it up THIS time.” Even when they finally did find a cure, and the suffering could finally end, a lot of us couldn’t even quite believe it was really happening.
Adding to all this, by the way, was the fact that over in Telaar, the draenei had their own parallel illness going on for a while. It was called the lank distemper – or the “Lanks,” as a lot of folks ended up calling it. Basically an infection that caused severe dehydration and loss of appetite, so the afflicted would wither down to these scrawny shadows of their former selves. Sometimes the two diseases would flare up as if they had a contest going to see which one could kill more victims. Which made for some miserable times for everybody involved. Believe me, for anyone who was living through it, you do NOT want to get them started on the whole Lanks / Red Pox rivalry.
Is that enough? Are you happy yet? Or do I need to relive the time the conjured healing sphere rolled between Bullrok’s legs and into the lake, too?
Winter Veil is here! Time for a great orc cheer! Lok’tar!
I am so looking forward to making cookies and milk for Greatfather Winter this year with my new cooking skills I learned from Pilgrim’s Bounty holiday. I may even add some lemon squares to add some extra favor. I’m really hoping this year he’ll give me a ferocious armored bloodwing with exotic leather saddle for riding. That would be so cool! (Sigh, I’ll probably end up with another copper racer though.)
What are you hoping for Winter Veil this year, Mr. Garrosh sir?
Varian on a spire tree?
Blood and thunder!
–Ruekie, Shaman-Still-in-Training
PS: Greatfather Winter looks awful familiar, but I can’t quite figure it out. Kinda like Mr. Saurfang, but that would be impossible…I think. (Nothing is impossible with Mr. Saurfang.)
PPS: Winter Veil holiday is a great time for eating. Try no to eat too many lemon squares, though, sir. It doesn’t take much to make your muscles look like marshmallows. D:
Bye!
Wait, Ruekie AGAIN? When the hell is she writing all these letters? Fuck, maybe I should hire HER as a scribe, if this is how fast she can crank out pages. Anyway.
So also, before we get into anything else…hang on, you want a BLOODWING for Winter Veil? A frigging BAT? All of a sudden, a WYVERN isn’t good enough for little miss tornado-pants? You’ve seen Mortimer in action, up close and personal, and you’ve decided, “Nah, let’s give the universe a sporting chance – keep the wings, take away all the parts that really make the wyvern badass, and replace them with a giant blind rat”? Are you KIDDING me?
I already answered the part about what I want for Winter Veil a few letters up, so no need to get into that again. And I’m not going to dignify the lemon squares thing with a response. But I have to comment on that thing you said about Greatfather Winter. You know, one thing that people always say about Greatfather Winter is that there’s no way the guy could possibly fly all around the world and deliver presents to everyone in just one night. Well, I think you might have found the one gaping hole in that theory. So, next time you find yourself in an argument with some skeptic who doesn’t want to believe in Greatfather Winter, just unload this one on them:
“I’m telling you, there isn’t enough time for Greatfather Winter to do all that! It isn’t physically possible!”
“What if Greatfather Winter is really Saurfang?”
“Oh… Um… Well then.”
I hear you had de red pox, mon. On dat game Earth Online dey has a disees call chicken pox. Es dat de same? (What do chickens haf to do wit dat?)
Dey say in dat game, once you hav it, you cannot get et again. Yah, mon, you are now invisible to dat disees, like de lich king’s horse. Dat is good news!
Cheers, mon!
–Bobbette, Out der somewhere
…
Okay.
So.
I am beginning to get the very distinct impression that I may be getting trolled.
What’s dis I be hearin’ about da Red Pox breakin’ out again? It be all anybody be talkin’ ’bout dese days! If you get it, does dat mean ya turns red? I remember seein’ some red orcs back in Hellfire Peninsula, mon, was dey havin’ da Red Pox? Dey go from green ta red? Don’t get me wrong, mon, I don’t want nobody gettin’ sick, but if dere be anudda outbreak, look on da bright side – all dat red an’ green togetha be lookin’ nice an’ festive for Winter Veil!
–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery
I hate you. I really, truly hate you.
Excuse me, Warchief, I write to you from Dustwallow marsh, I came here to see if I could find test subjects for a new flamethrower, and found something much more interesting, there is this mysterious woman on the road to the ruined theramore (hah!) and she seems to be able to send me back in time to look at theramore and the swamp before theramore was destroyed, I went to sleep at mudsprocket and woke up in present day. She seems upset that I was killing humans as soon as I was there, and refuses to send me again.
–Ritaba, Mudsprocket
Wait, wait, hang on. Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that there’s someone hanging around Dustwallow Marsh sending people back in time to Theramore before we blew it up? As in, making it possible to totally sidestep our whole victory and interact with the place like it was before? That… fucking hell, THAT DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT OF US BLOWING IT UP IF YOU CAN FUCKING DO THAT!
You know, this has the Bronze Dragonflight written all over it — or at least it WOULD, if it weren’t for the fact that this is PRECISELY THE SAME KIND OF SHIT they they’ve been recruiting people to PREVENT for years now, and by the way didn’t I just march through like 50 miles of steaming shit over their whole “integrity of the past” deal last year?! But hey, apparently it’s NO BIG DEAL when you’re talking about Theramore, right? SURE! WHY NOT? Hey, how about I zip on back to the past and start fucking with shit too, because I GUESS THAT’S ON THE MENU NOW, RIGHT?
Fucking dragons. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL!
UGH!
I have been reading the history of Pandaria, and discovered something no one has bothered to take note of, seven burdens of Shaohao, the story of how the last emperor of Pandaria defeated the six sha and locked them away in a poor fashion (He couldn’t have kept them from causing havok any time someone gets cranky?), and there are older writings indicating a beast with seven heads, perhaps there is a seventh sha never recorded, it could be the key to controlling them.
–Yinsun, Vale of Eternal Blossoms
Now see, THIS is an example of some research that might actually be useful. You might be on to something there, Yinsun. It DOES seem kind of fishy that we have this story about Shaohao and his seven burdens, and this seven-headed thingamabob, and then we only have six sha that we know about. It’s definitely worth considering whether we’ve got one more sha on the loose that nobody’s thought of. (Hell, I was even bouncing ideas about this around with some people on Twitter a little while ago.)
For anybody keeping score at home, we might as well start with the basics. Right now, we’ve got six sha accounted for: the Sha of Doubt, the Sha of Anger, the Sha of Despair, the Sha of Violence, the Sha of Hatred, and the Sha of Fear.
So, okay, let’s suppose there’s one more out there. Since the sha we know about all seem to be named for pretty major negative emotions or vices…hmm…let’s see, what do we have left for major negatives?
There could be a Sha of Greed, I suppose. Although…I mean, we have goblins with us, and I have to figure if there were a Sha of Greed, people like Grizzle Gearslip would be setting the fucker off left and right. The Sha of Jealousy, maybe? Makes sense on paper, but again, you’d figure we’d be having outbreaks all over the place, seeing as we’ve got a base full of people who’ve been watching me stroll around day after day. And you KNOW the peeps get jelly when they feast their eyes to the pure awesome that is yours truly, amirite?
So we’re kind of running out of major vices to pair up with the missing sha. What else is there? Free-associate, Garrosh… hmm… the Sha of Gluttony? The Sha of Sloth? The Sha of Anteater?
Hang on…I think that line of thought took a wrong turn on me somehow.
Maybe we’re going about this wrong. Time to think outside the box a little. For all we know, this last sha could be kind of a niche sha, something more specific and less…well…grandiose. Which might explain why this one might have been able to fly under the radar all this time. So, let’s see, what else could be out there as the sneakier, subtler bane of our existence…
- The Sha of Social Awkwardness
- The Sha of Small Talk
- The Sha of Poor Table Manners
- The Sha of Bad Penmanship
- The Sha of Bad Spelling
- The Sha of Typos (possibly related to above)
- The Sha of Not Picking Up After Your Wyvern
- The Sha of Repetition
- The Sha of Redundancy
- The Sha of Telegraphing Bad Jokes
- The Sha of Walking Really Slowly in Front of People at the Mall
- The Sha of Paper Towels with Inexplicably Strong Perforation So You Try to Snap Off One Square and End Up Yanking Out Half the Roll
- The Sha of Telling the Same Story Over and Over and Over Again Even Though Yes I Already Know How You Met Eitrigg Okay Tirion
Okay, you know what? This is going nowhere fast.
Wait, wait, hang on a second… I could swear I HAVE seen another sha somewhere.
HOLY FUCKING HELL THAT’S IT! THE SHA OF HAPPINESS! Come to think of it, I even remember seeing this fucker on Twitter! Fuckin’ A, I KNEW all those annoyingly happy assholes like Mylune were up to no good! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.
Okay, that’s going to do it for this time, but keep those letters coming. You guys really stepped up to the plate with this batch of letters, so you know what that means — THE BAR HAS BEEN RAISED. So keep it going, and I’ll try to be back with more wise words soon. Handy form included:
Encore
The Karazhan Opera House curtain rises. As a drum beat begins, Garona dances at center stage, surrounded by Gul’dan, Medivh, and Cho’gall.
{MY GARONA}
GUL’DAN:
Oh my little stabby one, stabby one,
Come along and look in my eye’s corona.
Now my binding spell is spun, won’t be undone:
Fight it if you want, but you’re mine, Garona.
Never going free,
Barely sane,
Such an angry mind,
You’re gonna kill King Llane,
Take the blame,
Just as I designed –
You’re my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!MEDIVH:
Come on down to Karazhan, for Gul’dan;
Soon you’ll have your Emissary persona.
While Sargeras pulls my strings, plotting things,
Something in you draws you to me, Garona.
Never holding back,
Love takes wing,
Fight it if you can;
You always had a thing
For a fling
With an older man –
You’re my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!CHO’GALL:
When you gonna come at me? Let me see.
Stop your hiding out by that ghost Karoma.
Twilight Bastion destiny, better flee.
If you get too close then you’re toast, Garona.
Sneaking up the hills,
Fight and scrap,
Take the bait, go on;
You’re yelling “Holy crap!
It’s a trap!”
Gotta fight a gronn –
My, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!GUL’DAN, MEDIVH, and CHO’GALL:
Ohhh, my Garona!
Ohhh, my Garona!
Ohhh, my Garona!The audience bursts into applause; Garona, beaming, steps forward and opens her mouth as if to speak or sing. The curtain closes in front of her.
The Wizard of Zhan, Act 2
The curtain rises, revealing the Gold Road coming to a fork in the marsh at a small guard tower. Garrosh, Garona, and Mortimer enter. Seated next to the tower entrance, two guards – Dontrag and Utvoch – entertain themselves tossing coins.
GARROSH: Huh. Do you know which way we’re supposed to go?
GARONA: I’m not sure. It’s been a while.
GARROSH: How do you know this wizard again?
GARONA: Long story. <looks around> I suppose we could ask the guards.
GARROSH: <squints, looking at them> For some reason, I don’t have a great feeling about that. But whatever. HEY, you two!
Dontrag and Utvoch scramble to their feet and grab their axes.
DONTRAG: Halt!
UTVOCH: Who goes there?
GARROSH: Uh, you can stop trying to act like you were actually paying attention to what was going on.
DONTRAG: Begging your pardon, sir, but rested assurances we are in full commanding commandeered command of the situation. At hand, sir.
UTVOCH: What may have appeared to the untrained eye, sir—
DONTRAG: The uninitialized!
UTVOCH: Uninitialized?
DONTRAG: Isn’t that what you meant?
UTVOCH: The uninitialized eye?
DONTRAG: Well maybe you could take out the “eye” part?
GARONA: Were you thinking of maybe “uninitiated”?
UTVOCH: What’s wrong with just “the untrained eye”?
DONTRAG: Fine, say it your way.
GARROSH: I think I’m starting to get a regrettably familiar headache…
UTVOCH: As I was meaning to say, sir…
GARROSH: Oh good. Here we go.
UTVOCH: To the untrained eye, it may have appeared and belied that my comrade Dontrag and I were diverted and distracted, but you see, sir, that’s all just part of our clever ruse.
GARROSH: A ruse?
UTVOCH: Yes sir. Our cunning plan!
GARROSH: You have a ruse?
UTVOCH: We do, sir – a great clever devious one, sure to outwit and unfox even the most surreptitious and scheming of foes! A great airtight inconceivable ploy, ma’am!
GARROSH: I don’t think that word means what you think it means.
UTVOCH: Sir?
GARROSH: Just go on. Or don’t, actually.
UTVOCH: Just meaning to say, sir, my colleague and I might have looked to be distracted with our game, but if you take my meaning, sir, that’s just to lull any enemies into a false sense of security, sir.
DONTRAG: They see us busy at the tower and underestimate us!
GARROSH: I don’t know if anyone could underestimate you two.
UTVOCH: Thank you, sir!
DONTRAG: And they try to put one past us, and lo and behold!
UTVOCH: Ha! HA!
Garona, who had wandered off by this point, unstealths further up the road, on the far side of the guard tower, and waves.
DONTRAG: You’ve got to get up pretty early in the morning to put one past ol’ Dontrag and Utvoch, sir!
Garrosh points to Garona; Dontrag and Utvoch turn to look, then do double takes.
UTVOCH: Hey! You can’t be over there!
DONTRAG: No one passes this checkpoint without they’ve been approved and authorized and added to the official commendatory-ish list!
UTVOCH: No one else is to pass, ma’am!
DONTRAG: Those are our orders!
GARROSH: Your orders?
DONTRAG: Yes, sir!
GARROSH: Whose orders?
UTVOCH: The Warchief’s orders, sir!
Garrosh stares at them for a moment, then looks at Garona, then rubs his eyes.
GARROSH: I’M the Warchief, you pinheads.
Dontrag and Utvoch do another double take.
UTVOCH: I think we may need to add more detailed notes to the list.
GARROSH: I think you may need something other than cottage cheese between your ears.
DONTRAG: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.
GARONA: You know, if they came along, maybe the Wizard could do something for them.
GARROSH: WHY would you even SUGGEST—
UTVOCH: Really? That would be most magnanimous of you, sir!
DONTRAG: It would be an honor to join you on your quest, sir!
UTVOCH: A group quest, as it were!
DONTRAG: With a tremendous quest reward for Utvoch and I, sir – and most beneficiallacious to everyone!
{IF WE ONLY HAD A BRAIN}
DONTRAG:
We would cause much less frustration,
And need less explanation
To make the meaning plain.
Write your order down and send it;
We would truly comprehend it
If we only had a brain.UTVOCH:
We would free our conversation
From overcompensation:
The knowledge that we feign.
You might think of us as nerdy,
And we wouldn’t be so wordy
If we only had a brain.DONTRAG and UTVOCH:
Oh, we would finally know,
Our heads not filled with wool.DONTRAG:
Instead our heads with knowledge would be full.
UTVOCH:
It would be inconceivable!
DONTRAG:
Life would be such a joy hence,
To not be an annoyance,
And not be thought a pain.
You would not be near as wary
Of our weak vocabulary
If we only had a brain.UTVOCH:
We’d listen while you’re talkin’,
And not feel like we’re walkin’
Two steps behind again.
You’re be happy when you meet us
(Or at least you wouldn’t beat us)
If we only had a brain.
GARONA: See? They mean well.
GARROSH: Yeah, yeah, fine. They can come along. Only question is, which way? We still never settled that.
DONTRAG: We’re on it, sir!
GARONA: See, I told you.
DONTRAG: You call it, Ut.
GARROSH: Wait, call it?
UTVOCH: Heads, north!
DONTRAG: Tossing!
Dontrag tosses a coin.
GARROSH: Seriously?
DONTRAG: Tails!
UTVOCH: South it is.
GARROSH: You know what? Fine. Whatever.
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE)}
ALL:
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!Blackout. The Gold Road winds past Blackrock Mountain through a fiery landscape. Garrosh, Garona, Dontrag, Utvoch, and Mortimer enter and make their way cautiously along the road.
DONTRAG: I don’t really like the looks of things here, sir.
GARONA: This is a dangerous region. Rumor has it that a few last lingering members of the black dragonflight lurk around here.
UTVOCH: Dragons? Really?
DONTRAG: Don’t forget the ogres. Aren’t they supposed to be especially hostile in these mountains?
GARONA: Not to mention the orcs.
GARROSH: Um, you mean like every single one of us here?
GARONA: Hey, I’m half draenei.
GARROSH: Yeah, but you’re passing.
GARONA: Well still, I’m talking about Blackrock orcs. They’re nothing but trouble in this region.
DONTRAG: Ugh. Dragons and ogres and orcs.
UTVOCH: Oh my.
GARONA: Dragons and ogres and orcs.
UTVOCH: Oh my.
The group begins to march along the road faster, in rhythm with their words.
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
As the group passes an outcropping of rock, Mokvar – wearing clattering plate armor – jumps out and attacks them, beginning with a chain lightning that knocks Garrosh, Garona, and Utvoch back. Mokvar knocks down Dontrag and stands over him, rearing back to swing his mace. Garrosh charges back in and knocks Mokvar away.
DONTRAG: Wow, you weren’t kidding about the Blakrock orcs being bad news around here.
MOKVAR: I’m not a Blackrock orc! You’re the Blackrock orcs!
GARROSH: Dude, what is this, a schoolyard?
MOKVAR: You’re not Blackrock orcs?
GARROSH: Do I LOOK like a Blackrock orc? You seriously can’t tell Blackrock from Mag’har?
MOKVAR: <shrugs> Yeah, fine. In that case, you all be on your way and I’ll get back to my business.
GARROSH: What this yen you’ve got against the Blackrocks, anyway?
MOKVAR: That’s between them and me.
GARONA: And anyone else who happens to come walking down this road.
GARROSH: I don’t know what your problem is with them, dude, but you might want to let it go before somebody ends up getting hurt. Like mainly you.
MOKVAR: Would if I could.
GARONA: Why can’t you?
MOKVAR: The Blackrock clan…well, one of them…took something from me that… Look, if I could put it past me and forget about it, I would. It would make life a whole lot easier…
{IF I ONLY HAD A HEART}
MOKVAR:
It’s true, I’m kind of bitter;
My mercy’s in the shitter,
My anger off the chart.
Maybe wrongs could be forgiven
And I just could go on livin’
If I only had a heart.An orc that I won’t mention,
Reviled past comprehension,
That’s where it found its start.
But my smiles would be addictive
If I just weren’t so vindictive,
If I only had a heart.Picture me a balcony,
Above a voice speaks low,
Illuminated by the fires below.
I hear a blast…aghast.Now I wish I could forget it,
Those moments I regretted
That tear me all apart.
I could end all my fighting
And I’d get back to my writing
If I only had a heart.DONTRAG: You know, maybe the Wizard could do something to help him, too.
GARONA: I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.
GARROSH: I guess. Maybe he’ll give me someone to have some actual decent conversation with on this trip.
GARONA: I’ve been trying to talk to you this whole time!
GARROSH: As I was saying.
MOKVAR: You people are funny. You should write some of this down.
GARROSH: Funny you should mention. I want to discuss that with you during the trip…
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE)}
ALL:
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!Blackout. The group follows the Gold Road through Duskwood, where it passes an alchemy station manned by Faranell.
FARNELL: Hey. I’m Edwin, I could go for a trip to the Dark Tower too, everybody cool with that? Yeah? Good. Let’s get going then.
GARROSH: I— wait, what? You just want to…
FARANELL: Yeah, look, I’ve been watching this from backstage, and rather than doing some little vignette about me joining the group, I figured we could just save time and move things along.
GARROSH: <clapping Faranell on the back> Good man.
FARANELL: Okay, so, cue the exit song.
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE)}
ALL:
Weeeeeeeeee’re off to—
GARONA: Wait, wait, hold on.
GARROSH: What’s the matter?
GARONA: What do you want to see the Wizard for?
FARANELL: …I want his autograph?
GARROSH: Does it really matter?
GARONA: Hey, somebody has to keep the plot on track with some kind of integrity.
MOKVAR: Personally I think that train left the station somewhere around the “Time Warp” ripoff.
FARANELL: Well, what have you got so far?
GARONA: Dontrag and Utvoch want a brain.
FARANELL: Shouldn’t they specify two?
GARONA: Isn’t that splitting hairs, really?
FARANELL: Listen, I’m a mage. I know all about ironic technicalities when people phrase their magic requests vaguely.
GARROSH: Whatever. Honestly even one brain between them would be an improvement.
GARONA: And then Mokvar wants a heart.
FARANELL: mm. Okay, well, keeping with the whole anatomical theme, I guess I could ask him for some guts.
GARROSH: Really? You don’t seem so cowardly.
UTVOCH: Actually I thought you were kind of badass back in that cellar.
FARANELL: No, no, I’m not talking about courage. I mean literally, guts. Look at me. I’m undead. I’m missing half my internal organs.
{IF I ONLY HAD SOME GUTS}
FARANELL:
The bile I feel is sadder,
’Cause I’ve got no gallbladder,
No ifs, no ands, no buts.
Now I’d finally have uses
For these jarred digestive juices
If I only had some guts.No liver, so I’m thinkin’
I’d better not be drinkin’.
I really don’t see what’s
The point of an appendix,
But I would give mine a mend fix
If I only had some guts.Once I had them back,
It would never discard.
I never should have once let down my guard
And signed that organ donor card.Those toxins, I would rid these
If I just had some kidneys.
Necrosis, it rebuts.
But my pain would heal faster,MOKVAR:
All this anger I would master,
DONTRAG and UTVOCH:
Our ideas won’t be disaster,
GARROSH:
And I’ll kill that demon bastard
If that caster is a caster, not a putz.DONTRAG and UTVOCH:
Then we’re sure to get a brain.
MOKVAR:
A heart.
GARROSH:
A…means to summon a demon prince and by the way I’m not even bothering to try to get this to fit the actual meter of the line here, so sue me.
FARANELL: <blinks>
Um, okay… Some guts.
GARROSH: Okay, that works. Moving on.
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE, FOR REAL THIS TIME)}
ALL:
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!The group marches down the road and offstage. The curtain closes.
{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 3…}
The Wizard of Zhan
The curtain rises on the admiral’s quarters in Northwatch Hold, where Garrosh is sitting in a chair, slumped over a central table. Everything appears black-and-white.
After a moment, Garrosh stirs and looks around the room while rubbing his forehead. Stage lights illuminate the far edges of the stage, alternating sides, showing brief glimpses of Orgrimmar in flames, being overrun by demons. The sounds of screaming and demonic laughter can be heard, seemingly at a distance. The lights at the edges of the stage go out. Garrosh stands, and the background noise stops.
GARROSH: Malchezaar… They were able to do it because of Malchezaar…
{UP IN THE NETHER}
GARROSH:
Somewhere up in the nether
In the dark,
There’s a demon “prince,” self-appointed,
Calls himself Malchezaar.Mortimer wanders in and settles near Garrosh as the song continues.
Somewhere up in the nether
Time did break.
You can kill him while he’s up there
But it just won’t take.Some day I’ve got to drag him down
Out of that place and go to town
And stop it.
The Legion hid him in the cracks.
Sometimes he’s got my father’s axe;
I hope he drops it.Somewhere up in the nether
Demons hide.
Prince lurks up in the nether –
It’s long since time he died.If demons get to be revived
Without a timer,
Why oh why can’t I?Garrosh walks to a window and looks out. A stage light illuminates the edge of the stage again, this time revealing the burning ruins of Camp Taurajo.
Garrosh steps back into the room and, slowly at first but with increasing speed and urgency, begins running around the room, knocking over and smashing furniture. Dizzying music fades in as Garrosh continues; he runs around in circles, destroying everything he can reach. The stage lights dim until the room itself fades from view and the only thing visible is Garrosh – running in circles, lashing at his invisible surroundings, moving with increasing speed until he starts to blur into a whirlwind of anger.
The lights slowly come up to show that the Northwatch Hold tower has been replaced by the deck of a goblin sky galleon. The ship is spinning in air, such that the rotation of the ship gradually comes to replace Garrosh’s running; he now stands on the deck as the galleon spins around, tossed in circles by a literal whirlwind.
The lights fade to black while the dizzying music continues – growing louder – then a loud crash is heard. The stage lights come up again, showing the sky galleon wrecked on the ground amid the ruins of Theramore. For the first time, the scene is visible in full color. Garrosh is sprawled out on the ground near the wreckage, unconscious. Mortimer flies in and approaches. He prods Garrosh carefully with one paw; Garrosh stirs and starts to get up.
GARROSH: <rubbing his head with one hand while patting Mortimer with the other> Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, buddy…
Garrosh turns to the wreckage of the galleon and notices a woman’s legs sticking out from under it.
Huh. She’s not okay, though, whoever she is. Was.
Garrosh looks around the ruins, then back to the galleon. As he turns away, several goblins begin to emerge slowly from behind pieces of the ruins.
Hmm… Mortimer, I don’t think we’re in Northgate anymore… Looks like Theramore…so…so that would make HER—
SPAZZLE: <running to the wreckage> The Witch! She’s dead! The Wicked Witch is dead!
More goblins appear and gather closer around the wreckage.
GARROSH: Hang on, the witch? You mean like a mage?
SPAZZLE: Well, it’s kind of a blanket term.
GARROSH: But is THIS one a mage?
KHIZZARA: Not anymore!
GARROSH: Yeah, fine, I get it, she’s dead. What I’m trying to find out is if she’s—
GIZZIX GRIMEGURGLE: She’s dead!
DYSLIX SILVERGRUB: Dead!
KRIXIL SLOGSWITCH: The Witch is dead!
KHIZZARA: Woot!
GARROSH: Fine, fuck it, I’ll check it out myself.
Garrosh takes hold of the edge of the wreckage and, grunting, lifts it a few feet.
UGH! GROSS!
Garrosh releases the galleon and it crashes back onto the body. One hand is left flopping limply out from under the wreckage; a glowing blue orb falls out of its palm and rolls across the ground.
Definitely Jaina, though. Gotta say, not exactly a glorious way to go out. <chuckles> Oh well. Live on your back, die on your back, right?
The blue sphere rolls further. In a puff of smoke, Liadrin appears in the sphere’s path. She is wearing the paladin Lightsworn robes and has the wings of Avenging Wrath permanently glowing on her back. She leans down and picks up the orb.
LIADRIN: Are you the one who’s slain the Wicked Witch of the East and freed the Mudsprockets?
GARROSH: What, Jaina? Yeah, that was me, I guess.
GOBLINS: Hooray!
GARROSH: So hang on, who are all you people?
LIADRIN: I am the Good Witch of the North. And the Mudsprockets live here in the marsh.
RAZBO RUSTGEAR: Under the tyrannical reign of the Wicked Witch of the East!
KHIZZARA: Not anymore!
GOBLINS: Hooray!
GARROSH: Jaina had a tyrannical reign?
SPAZZLE: Well, more like some pretty strict local ordinances on fireworks and explosives.
KHIZZARA: Not anymore!
GIZZIX GRIMEGURGLE: Splodey-ville, here we come!
GOBLINS: Hooray!
GARROSH: Okay, whatever. You’re happy she’s dead, I’m happy she’s dead, it’s all cool. One less thorn in my side, gotta tell you.
{WHAM, BAM, THE BITCH IS DEAD}
GARROSH:
Wham! Bam! The bitch is dead!
GOBLINS:
Which? Which bitch?
GARROSH:
The Proudmoore bitch!
Wham! Bam! The Proudmoore bitch is dead!
I landed on her head,
She wished she woulda stood in bed.
Flat splat, the Proudmoore bitch is dead!GOBLINS:
She won’t stop the goblins now –
Kapow! Kapow! Kapow!
So now, let’s open up and blast,
At last! Let’s rock some rockets!
Wham bam, she got put down,
A new sheriff is in town!
Don’t you frown, the Wicked Witch is dead!Drazzit Dripvalve approaches wearing a top hat and comically flamboyant ceremonial attire.
DRAZZIT DRIPVALVE:
As Mayor of dear Mudsprocket,
In the shadow of the Witch’s lair,
I welcome you effusively!GIZZIX GRIMEGURGLE:
But it must be proved conclusively,
To know…DRAZZIT DRIPVALVE:
To know?
GIZZIX GRIMGURGLE:
That blow…
DRAZZIT DRIPVALVE:
That blow?
GIZZIX GRIMGURGLE:
Has utterly, totally,
KRIXIL SLOGSWITCH:
Not just anecdotally!
RAZBO RUSTGEAR:
Determinately, permanently,
GOBLINS:
Undiminishedly gone and finished her off.
SPAZZLE:
I went ahead and checked her out,
And I can say without a doubt
That she’s not just flatter than most:
She’s totally and truly toast.DRAZZIT DRIPVALVE:
Then today we’ll fire our rockets!
Celebrating free Mudsprockets!
Now spread the word! Let none neglect!
The Wicked Witch just got shipwrecked!GOBLINS:
Wham! Bam! The Witch is dead!
Which? Which Witch? The Wicked Witch!
Wham! Bam! The Wicked Witch is dead!
He landed on her head,
She wished she woulda stood in bed.GARROSH:
Flat splat, the Proudmoore bitch is dead!
GOBLINS:
She won’t stop the goblins now –
Kapow! Kapow! Kapow!
So now, let’s open up and blast,
At last! Let’s rock some rockets!
Wham bam, she got put down,
A new sheriff is in town!
Don’t you frown, the Wicked Witch is dead!From above, Magatha Grimtotem swoops in, riding her wind serpent Arikara. Cackling maniacally, she casts chain lightning down at the Mudsprockets, who scatter and try to take cover.
GARROSH: What the fuck is SHE doing here?
LIADRIN: It’s the Wicked Witch of the West!
GARROSH: How many fucking Wicked Witches do you people HAVE around here?
LIADRIN: Two—
KHIZZARA: Not anymore!
LIADRIN: Well, yes, one now. But this one is even worse than the Wicked Witch of the East ever was.
GARROSH: Preaching to the choir, lady.
Magatha unleashes another burst of chain lightning; Garrosh and Liadrin dive out of the way. Mortimer launches into the air, snarling, and swipes at Arikara.
GARROSH: Yeah! Go get ’em, Mortimer!
Mortimer’s strike knocks Magatha off of Arikara and sends her crashing to the ground. Shrieking, Arikara flies out of view. Magatha gets up and looks at Jaina’s legs poking out from under the wreckage. Mortimer returns to the ground, landing next to Garrosh.
MAGATHA: So it’s true! She’s dead! <looking around hurriedly> Where is it, then? It must be here!
LIADRIN: <holding up the blue sphere> Are you looking for this?
MAGATHA: The Focusing Iris! Yes! Once I combine its power with that of the Doomstone—
LIADRIN: You’ll do nothing of the kind, crone!
MAGATHA: You think I fear you, elf? I’ll take it from you if I have to!
Magatha starts to cast another chain lightning, but is interrupted when Garona – sporting the Fangs of the Father wings – unstealths and stunlocks her.
GARONA: Not so much, Steak Sauce!
GARROSH: So, who’s this supposed to be now?
LIADRIN: She’s the Morally Ambiguous Witch of the South-by-Southeast.
GARONA: Hey.
GARROSH: You people have some really weird fucking job titles, gotta say.
LIADRIN: You slayed the Wicked Witch of the East, so it’s only right that the Focusing Iris should go to you as its caretaker…
Liadrin hands the Iris to Garrosh.
What’s important is that it stays out of the hands of the crone at all cost.
GARROSH: Yeah, don’t worry, I am all about making her life unpleasant…
Arikara swoops by again, startling Garrosh and Liadrin into taking a few steps back; Magatha breaks out of her stun, jumps back, and puts down an earthbind totem that holds the others in place.
MAGATHA: I may need to bide my time for now, but the Iris will be mine yet! And as for you, orc – I’ll get you, my cranky, and your little wyvern, too!
Magatha leaps onto Arikara’s back and takes off.
LIADRIN: She’ll be back. I hope you can handle powerful enemies.
GARROSH: I’ve dealt with worse. Matter of fact, I was working on one just before I wound up here.
LIADRIN: What enemy was that?
GARROSH: A demon called Malchezaar – taking him out wouldn’t even be that big of a deal, but I kind of have to get him out of his lair in order to defeat him.
LIADRIN: Something you would need powerful magic to do?
GARROSH: Probably. Magic not really being my strong suit.
LIADRIN: I may know whose it is. You want to talk to the Wizard of Zhan.
GARROSH: The who now?
LIADRIN: The Wizard of Zhan! He’s a wise, mysterious mage who lives in the Dark Tower far away.
GARROSH: So this guy is pretty powerful?
LIADRIN: Extremely – they say there’s no end to what he can do.
GARONA: Let’s not get carried away now.
GARROSH: You know him?
GARONA: We’ve met.
GARROSH: So how do I get to him?
LIADRIN: The tower of Zhan is far to the east of Dustwallow, in the Pass of Dying Winds. Luckily for you, the eastward Gold Road will take you straight there.
Liadrin points to the yellow brick road beneath their feet.
GARROSH: Well that’s convenient.
GARONA: I can go with you, since I know the Wizard.
LIADRIN: You should get started – it’s a long trip, especially since you’ll be walking.
GARROSH: Screw walking, I’ve got my wyvern right here. I can just hop on and fly along the road.
GARONA: Great! I can get on behind you and hold onto you.
GARROSH: Okay, so walking it is. Grats on the dodged bullet, Mortimer.
GARONA: Fine.
LIADRIN: We’ll see you off! Good luck on your journey!
GARROSH: Hey, actually…you said this road leads right to Zhan?
LIADRIN: Yes, it does.
GARROSH: Even though there’s an ocean between here and there? Because we’re kind of on a different continent.
LIADRIN: Yes, but fortunately the road runs across the Willing Suspension Bridge of Disbelief.
GARROSH: Huh. Okay then. Off we go.
Garrosh, Garona, and Mortimer start to follow the road while the Mudsprockets gather behind them.
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD}
GOBLINS:
You’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
You’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!The curtains close.
{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 2…}
West Azeroth Story, Act 2
The curtain rises to reveal Grommash Hold, where Garrosh is conferring with Eitrigg and Malkorok.
EITRIGG: I still do not like this plan, Warchief. Thrall would never—
MALKOROK: Thrall is not here, old man.
EITRIGG: No…indeed he is not.
GARROSH: This battle will secure the supremacy of the Horde on this continent, Eitrigg, and do it without any loss of men or material.
EITRIGG: If you succeed, Warchief. If you do not—
GARROSH: Do you doubt that I can defeat that human, Eitrigg?
MALKORK: Rest assured, old man, the Warchief will prevail. And even if the impossible happens…well, suffice to say: We are the Horde. Even when we lose, we win.
EITRIGG: What is that supposed to—?
Garona runs in.
GARONA: Warchief! I’ve just returned from Blackrock Mountain!
MALKOROK: What were you doing there, rogue?
GARROSH: I sent her, Malkorok.
GARONA: I investigated, just as you asked, Garrosh.
MALKOROK: What could you possibly have to investigate in that place?
GARROSH: Mokvar.
MALKOROK: That scribe?
EITRIGG: What would Mokvar be doing in Blackrock Mountain?
GARROSH: Good question. What WAS he doing there, Garona?
GARONA: Meeting the human woman, Warchief.
GARROSH: <grumbles> I was afraid of that. What did you find out?
GARONA: I wasn’t able to hear much. Something about someone being untouchable…and assassins…
GARROSH: Assassins?
GARONA: I could make out Mokvar saying they would both be in trouble if anyone found out about them…
MALKORK: The bastard spoke true there.
GARONA: And I think they’re planning to meet again.
GARROSH: Oh good, another rendezvous for the lovebirds…
MALKOROK: More like conspirators, Warchief. Traitors!
EITRIGG: But traitors to whom, if they’re afraid of angering both Horde and Alliance?
MALKOROK: That insipid notetaker was already a traitor the moment he set his gaze on that pink-skinned harlot!
GARONA: He certainly seemed concerned about her welfare.
MALKOROK: He should worry more about his own.
EITRIGG: I would remind you, we still don’t really know what Mokvar is doing.
GARROSH: We know enough to put me in a rotten mood. It would have been bad enough if he were merely having some…revolting affair with this human. But the thought that they might be up to something more than that makes my head spin.
{I FEEL CRANKY}
GARROSH:
I feel cranky,
And quite frankly,
Hanky-panky is rankly dismissed.
And I’ll thank ye
Not to get me any further pissed.I feel surly,
My head’s swirly,
Not too early for a burly street brawl.
And quite surely
Tonight Varian is going to fall.See this angry orc in the war room here?
Wonder how he got so enraged.
Such a cranky mood,
Such a cranky face—GARONA:
Such a—
GARROSH:
Shut up, you,
I won’t be upstaged!I feel vengeful
And vindictive
My revenge will be strict; give this vibe:
I’m betrayed
By a frankly traitorous scribe!EITRIGG:
Will you reconsider this, Warchief?
We do not know nearly enough.
You’ll just set yourself up for more grief;
For all we know, Mokvar’s just affecting a bluff.You think he’s allured?
You think you’re betrayed?
How can we be sure
What game he has played?I plead with you, sir –
You’re so full of wrath.
You once relieved Krom’gar;
Don’t follow his path.MALKOROK:
Keep silent, old man,
Lest you suffer!
That scribe has done
More than enough, sir.Deceitful and vain,
Disloyal as well;
His open disdain
He’s proven full well!GARROSH:
I feel vicious,
And malicious.
This seditious orc surely will pay.
And my wish is
I could get my hands on him today.GARONA:
La la la la…
GARROSH:
I feel spiteful.
I feel hostile.
But tonight we’ll accost all our foes.
While you flank me,
I’ll give Varian one on the nose.GARONA:
La la la la…
GARROSH:
See this angry orc in the war room here?
MALKOROK:
Yes, sir, rightly so!
GARROSH:
You know how he got so pissed off.
EITRIGG:
Sir, I still say—
GARROSH:
Such a cranky mood,
Such a cranky face—EITRIGG:
Please, sir, think again—
GARROSH:
Don’t make me scoff!
MALKOROK: Hah!
GARROSH:
Now I’ll partake,
Feel my rage burn;
Soon Mokvar’ll take a turn for the worst.
But tonight
The Alliance is getting theirs first.MALKOROK: Hah! Music to my ears indeed, sir! Tonight the Alliance finally pays for their insolence, and then we can deal with that insipid, traitorous scribe!
GARROSH: Come along, Malkorok, let’s gather the others and begin the march to the Barrens.
MALKOROK: Of course, Warchief.
GARROSH: Eitrigg, watch over Orgrimmar in our absence. We’ll return soon enough for the first of many victory celebrations.
Garrosh and Malkorok exit.
EITRIGG: <watching them go> I do not know if it was a curse or a blessing that Grom did not live to know his son…
GARONA: The Alliance would be only too happy to wipe us out as well, Eitrigg. Don’t forget how many times Varian has called us monsters.
EITRIGG: And I do not object to defending ourselves against him. But I would prefer not to do so by proving him right.
Mokvar enters.
Mokvar!
GARONA: You!
MOKVAR: Eitrigg, I need to—
Mokvar slumps over as Garona darts around and saps him from behind.
EITRIGG: Garona, what are you doing?!
GARONA: Incapacitating the traitor before he has a chance to—
EITRIGG: To what? Write us a mean letter?
GARONA: Garrosh would have wanted us to—
EITRIGG: Garrosh isn’t here. And we have long since gotten out of the habit of honoring the wishes of our Warchiefs in their absence.
Eitrigg eyes Mokvar carefully.
I would like to hear what he has to say for himself.
A dim spotlight, stage left, illuminates Garrosh and Malkorok marching through Orgrimmar gathering Liadrin, Faranell, Dontrag, Utvoch, and other assorted Horde mainstays.
A moment after the Horde activities come into view, a second dim spotlight, stage right, illuminates Deliana talking in pantomime with Jaina Proudmoore in a Theramore tower. An additional spotlight below them shows Varian making his way among Alliance troops, gathering some – Falstad Wildhammer, Mathias Shaw, Shandris Feathermoon – to join him, while directing others – Horran Redmane, Marcus Jonathan, Tarlen Aubrey – to posts within Theramore.
At center stage, Mokvar regains consciousness and looks around, briefly disoriented.
MOKVAR: I would ask what that was for, but I think I already know that the answer would be.
GARONA: Shouldn’t you be in Blackrock Spire with your lady friend?
MOKVAR: So I’m guessing Deliana and I weren’t the only ones in Blackrock.
GARONA: Sorry if I was spoiling your privacy.
EITRIGG: Garona, enough.
GARONA: Ugh, fine.
MOKVAR: Has Garrosh heard?
EITRIGG: Indeed. You’re fortunate he’s already left for the Barrens…
MOKVAR: So, how pissed is he, on a scale of one to…well…one to Garrosh…?
GARONA: Right now I’d say he’s hovering around Garrosh squared.
MOKVAR: Crap.
GARONA: Seriously. He did a whole musical number about it.
EITRIGG: It likely doesn’t help matters that he has that blasted Malkorok fanning the flames for him.
MOKVAR: Yeah, that’s part of the problem – why I was going to see Deliana in the first place. Well, mostly.
EITRIGG: Mokvar, who is this woman?
MOKVAR: An old friend, from years before I came to Orgrimmar. She and I were in a mercenary company called the Veiled Blade. Years ago, we were hired for a mission in Blackrock Spire. We fought one of Nefarian’s lieutenants there, a drakonid called Lord Valthalak. We killed him…mostly…but after we made off with our loot, his spirit sent spectral assassins after us. That’s when Deliana and I went into hiding – me in Orgrimmar, her in Ironforge.
EITRIGG: And the rest of your group?
MOKVAR: Dead. Mostly, anyway.
EITRIGG: What business do you have with her now? And why all the secrecy?
MOKVAR: Other than her being a human and us being at war?
EITRIGG: I’m not unfamiliar with unlikely friendships.
MOKVAR: I’d thought we’d laid this Valthalak business to rest years ago, but now it looks like those spectral assassins are on the move again. We have no idea why, but we’ve been trying to find out.
EITRIGG: I wish you’d come to us with this first, Mokvar. Garrosh has come to consider you a friend, but the news of you sneaking off to meet with this human…
MOKVAR: Yeah, I know…
EITRIGG: He’s grown belligerent enough of late, with precious few to counter the whispers of that Malkorok urging him headlong into foolish confrontations.
MOKVAR: And that’s the other part of this, Eitrigg.
EITRIGG: What is?
MOKVAR: Malkorok. We’ve met before. <long sigh> In Blackrock Spire.
EITRIGG: You what?
MOKVAR: He can’t be trusted, Eitrigg. I know he has Garrosh’s ear, and that…that’s a problem.
EITRIGG: Mokvar, by the spirits, why haven’t you said anything? Do you have any idea how many of us have prayed for some way to convince Garrosh not to listen to that monster?
MOKVAR: That’s…a long story.
EITRIGG: Right now I don’t think we have much time for it. Garrosh and the devil on his shoulder are on their way to the Barrens now… Mokvar, whatever is in your past, you’ve been nothing but an honorable man since I’ve known you. Answer me: How sure are you about Malkorok? That he’s not to be trusted?
MOKVAR: Rend trusted him all those years ago. And I can tell you for a certainty – he shouldn’t have.
EITRIGG: I was already worried about his role in this spirits-forsaken challenge…
GARONA: You think he has some secret agenda?
MOKVAR: I wouldn’t put it past him.
EITRIGG: Then someone has to intervene. Mokvar, you have to get down there. I know Garrosh won’t be happy to see you, but if he’s walking into something…
MOKVAR: I know.
GARONA: I’ll go with you. Maybe he’ll listen to me.
MOKVAR: Does he ever listen to you?
GARONA: Hey, at least he hasn’t declared his desire to brutally murder me in glorious song in the last fifteen minutes, how about you?
MOKVAR: Also, weren’t you the one ready to stunlock and kill me yourself just a few minutes ago?
GARONA: Yes. And if it turns out that you’re lying, I still can.
MOKVAR: Reassuring.
GARONA: Right now, I can either trust you or not. If I trust you, and I’m wrong, I’ll still be there to stop you and kill you – and don’t think I won’t. But if I ignore you now, and I’m wrong…
EITRIGG: We’re losing valuable time. Hurry, both of you…
MOKVAR: We will. Thanks, Eitrigg.
EITRIGG: You can thank me by not proving me a sentimental old fool for trusting my instincts on you. Go quickly now – lok’tar.
MOKVAR: Lok’tar.
GARONA: Ogar.
Mokvar and Garona exist and Eitrigg begins to pace the room as the lights dim and the curtain closes.
{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 3…}