Tag Archives: karazhan
West Azeroth Story
Barnes walks onstage and a spotlight appears over him.
BARNES: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this evening’s presentation! Tonight we explore a tale of forbidden love! But beware, for not all love stories end happily. As you may find out, sometimes love pricks like a thorn. But don’t take it from me. See for yourself what tragedy lies ahead when the paths of star-crossed lovers meet. And now: On with the show!
Barnes walks offstage. The curtain rises, revealing a farm house with a Horde banner flying behind it. In the foreground, Garrosh enters from stage right, with Mokvar, Garona, Dontrag, Utvoch, Liadrin, and Faranell in formation behind him. As they walk by the farm, they begin snapping their fingers rhythmically in unison. They continue walking until they disappear from view, stage left.
The lights dim for a moment, then come back on, showing that the farm house has been replaced by a blacksmith’s building. Again, a Horde banner flies in the background. Garrosh et al enter stage left, still walking in formation and snapping their fingers in unison. Again they walk across the stage and exit, stage right.
Blackout. This time, the blacksmith building has been replaced by a stable. Garrosh et al enter stage right and walk past the stable, snapping their fingers – then, stopping their snapping, they turn and look back at the Alliance flag flying nearby.
From stage left, Varian Wrynn enters with a group of Alliance – including Jaina Proudmoore, Falstad Wildhammer, and Shandris Feathermoon. The Horde group turns to see them, and the two sides stare each other down for a moment.
As hectic music fills the air, the two groups launch into combat and fight back and forth acrobatically as if dancing to the music.
GARROSH: For the Horde!
ALL HORDE: For the Horde!
VARIAN: For the Alliance!
ALL ALLIANCE: Alliance!
GARROSH: Oh, fuck you, Varian!
VARIAN: This time there’ll be no escape for you, Hellscream!
The two sides continue fighting back and forth in front of the stables.
GARROSH: For fuck’s sake, you idiots, stop fighting in the middle and cap the damn flag!
VARIAN: There’re all here! The mine has to be open, some of you get over there!
LIADRIN: Someone come with me to cover the blacksmith before they get there!
Most of the combatants rush off in different directions, until Garrosh and Faranell find themselves alone with Varian, Jaina, Shandris, and several anonymous Alliance soldiers.
GARROSH: Okay, now to—
FARANELL: Not liking the odds here, boss – lumber mill coming up!
Faranell grabs Garrosh and teleports them both away just as Varian starts to rush at them. Varian looks around, then points at a red-shirted dwarf.
VARIAN: You, fact checker! Watch the stables while we circle around. Let’s go!
Varian and the others rush off, leaving the Wildhammer Fact Checker standing alone by the flag. After a moment, the dwarf lurches forward, stunned, as Garona unstealths behind him and starts stabbing him wildly with two daggers until he collapses to the ground.
GARONA: <turning to the flag> Lok’tar!
Blackout. At the blacksmith, Liadrin and Mokvar fight Shandris and an Alliance soldier, pushing them back until they fight their way offstage to the right.
Blackout. The landscape changes to that of the Isle of Conquest. From stage right, Garrosh, Liadrin, and Dontrag enter, followed by Flastad driving a glaive, with Jaina casting fireballs in support. The Alliance drive the Horde back until they exit to the left.
Blackout. This time the surrounding scenery is that of Wintergrasp. Varian and Jaina enter from stage left, chased by a demonlisher manned by Garrosh, Garona, and Utvoch, plus a catapult driven by Faranell. The Horde continues chasing the Alliance until they all exit, stage right.
Blackout. The scene changes to the Ring of Champions at the Argent Tournament grounds. From opposite sides of the stage, the Horde and Alliance groups rush in and begin fighting across the ring, again moving in rhythm with the music.
After a few minutes of combat, Tirion Fordring enters, runs to the middle of the fray, and emits a burst of light from the Ashbringer that knocks back all the combatants. Tirion looks back and forth at the two groups disapprovingly; they return to their feet and look back at him uneasily.
GARROSH: Oh. Hey.
VARIAN: Greetings, Highlord.
TIRION: If I might have a word, gentlemen.
GARROSH and VARIAN: Oh no.
TIRION: Much hope has been invested in an eventual peace between both your peoples, not least of all by the great archmage Rhonin, in his noble planning of the peace summit in Dalaran that draws near. Indeed, my own friendship with your own kinsman Eitrigg, Warchief Hellscream, stands, if I might dare flatter myself, in illustration of the fellowship that might be wrought between two divergent cultures, and, indeed, worlds—
VARIAN: Look, Tirion—
GARROSH: Seriously, you don’t have to—
TIRION: —one that you both may well benefit to heed. For surely, two such mighty and wise leaders as yourselves cannot but recognize the merit in looking beyond these petty, mutually destructive squabbles—
GARROSH: Dude, really, couldn’t you just let us slowly hack each other to death?
VARIAN: It would be faster and more humane.
TIRION: —in order to secure a lasting stability that would work to both your advantages.
Garrosh and Varian stare at Tirion in silence for several seconds.
GARROSH: Were you done?
TIRION: <sighs> In any case… Under my roof, gentlemen, I trust you will behave yourselves.
VARIAN: Fine, Tirion. I’ll talk to you later. Or try to.
Varian leaves, the other Alliance following close behind. Tirion nods to Garrosh and likewise exits, in the opposite direction.
FARANELL: Well that was arguably needlessly elaborate.
DONTRAG: What’s the plan now, if I might inquire, oh great and nefarious Warchief?
FARANELL: “Nefarious”…?
MOKVAR: Just let him.
UTVOCH: Indeed, sir, are you planning to go through with the peace summit?
GARROSH: Dude, did you just meet me today or something?
FARANELL: Not to mention it would have been a lot easier just to fly up here if that were the case, without having to find parking spaces for all the demolishers.
GARROSH: The only peace I’m interested in with that Alliance scum is the one that will come after we’ve crushed them beneath our boots, and secured the supremacy of the Horde!
DONTRAG: For the Horde!
GARONA: For the Horde!
GARROSH: FOR THE HORDE!
{HORDE SONG}
GARROSH:
When you’re the Horde
You stand mighty and strong!
If the humans come toward,
They won’t be standing long.When you’re the Horde
You’re united and brave,
And across Kalimdor
Full dominion you crave.You’re not backing down,
You’re not intimidated!
You’re green and you’re brown.
(I hope not masticated.)
You’re unabated!If you get bored
Find some humans to slay –
At the end of your sword
Is the end of their days!
Cause we’re the Horde,
Yeah – For the Horde!Now I know Varian, and I’m damn sure he isn’t any more jazzed about this peace conference idea than I am.
LIADRIN: I’ll bet you anything he’s only here at all because Jaina talked him into it.
MOKVAR: Oh, yeah. Talked.
GARROSH: Fuck that shit, Mokvar. That would require the asshole to be able to—
FARANELL: I’m begging you not to finish that sentence.
DONTRAG: So what are we going to do, great and mighty Warchief?
UTVOCH: Are we skipping the peace summit?
GARROSH: Oh no, we’re going to the summit. See, Rhonin’s right about one thing – having our war with the Alliance drag on and on IS a waste. For US, anyway. The sooner it ends – with the Horde victorious – the sooner we can stop losing the lives of so many of our brave soldiers.
GARONA: So what are you planning?
GARROSH: We’ll go to Rhonin’s little conference – and I’m going to challenge Varian to a full-on confrontation. One last glorious battle, to decide the fate of Kalimdor at least, and maybe the entire world, once and for all. With victory for the Horde!
DONTRAG: For the Horde!
UTVOCH: For the Horde!
DONTRAG:
When you’re the Horde
You say “Lok’tar ogar!”
Hey, I’m singing a chord!
I can’t carry it far…UTVOCH:
When you’re the Horde
All’s achievable now!
All the wins that we’ve scored,
Inconceivable—OW!!ALL:
The Horde’s on the move,
Our hearts full of defiance!
We’ve nothing to prove
Once we slay the Alliance,
Down to a science!Here comes the Horde
And here’s where we begin
Charging headlong to war
And you know that we’ll win.Here comes the Horde
And the world’s gonna quake,
First we wiped out Southshore,
Then the Barrens we’ll take.We’re drawin’ the line,
And if they don’t like hurtin’,
They’ll stay on their side,
And if they don’t, it’s certain
For them it’s curtains!Here comes the Horde!
When we reach Dalaran
We won’t sign no accord—UTVOCH:
Isn’t this Karazhan?
GARROSH: <glaring>
Dontrag, I told
You
Once:
WORD
BAN.All exit, and the lights fade. After a few seconds, the lights gradually come up again, revealing a large room in the Violet Citadel of Dalaran. Rhonin paces around the middle of the room.
From stage right, Garrosh enters, followed by Mokvar, Liadrin, Faranell, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch.
From stage left, the Alliance contingent enters: Varian Wrynn, Jaina Proudmoore, Tyrande Whisperwind, Prophet Velen, Falstad Wildhammer, Shandris Feathermoon, Master Mathias Shaw, and Deliana.
As both groups enter, Rhonin mills about greeting them. No voices are audible, but it’s clear from the participants’ body language that they’re talking. Occasionally Garrosh is seen smacking Dontrag and/or Utvoch in the head.
From opposite sides of the room, Mokvar and Deliana notice each other, then begin to walk toward each other slowly at center stage. They meet in the middle of the room, just as, in the background, Rhonin waves Garrosh and Varian toward each other.
DELIANA: Mokvar…?
MOKVAR: I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Liana…
In the background, Garrosh and Varian can be seen talking, growing increasingly animated, while Rhonin appears to try to calm them both down.
DELIANA: I…I was worried about you.
MOKVAR: <nods> I’d heard you were in Ironforge. I’m glad they didn’t get to you.
DELIANA: When the spectral assassins started coming for the others, I recruited help to try to appease Valthalak. I’d hoped they could do it before the assassins came for you, too.
MOKVAR: I did the same. Mostly to protect my own neck, but still.
DELIANA: <chuckles> Not for me? And here I thought I was something special.
MOKVAR: <laughs> Now you sound like my wife.
In the background, Garrosh and Varian storm angrily away from each other, then pause, turn, charge at each other, and start fighting as most of the rest of their respective groups collapse in closer.
DELIANA: Mokvar, something’s wrong.
MOKVAR: <glances over his shoulder at the fight> What was your first hint?
DELIANA: No, I mean…in Ironforge. A few days ago…I saw Theldren.
MOKVAR: What?
In the background, Rhonin jumps in close to Garrosh and Varian, then unleashes a burst of arcane energy that knocks them away from each other.
RHONIN: <muted by distance but audible> We have all lost a great deal in these conflicts – but we stand to lose everything if we do not stop fighting!
Mokvar and Deliana look back to each other; behind them, the two factions mill about on opposite sides of the room, watching each other guardedly.
MOKVAR: Wait…you saw Theldren? Alive?
DELIANA: <nods> He came to see Moira Thaurissan. I don’t know what about.
MOKVAR: I can’t believe he’s still alive…
DELIANA: It worries me. If he came out of hiding…or if he’s decided Blackrock Depths isn’t safe enough anymore as a hiding place…
At the right side of the stage, Dontrag and Utvoch begin to look curiously at Mokvar, pointing at him and gesturing to each other as they appear to talk. (Which they do. Endlessly. Because they’re Dontrag and Utvoch.)
MOKVAR: Liana…I’ve seen something, too.
Mokvar waves her closer; Deliana leans in nearer to him.
DELIANA: What? What’s wrong?
MOKVAR: It’s…him. He’s back. And he’s in Orgrimmar.
DELIANA: Who…? Not Valthalak?
MOKVAR: <shaking head> No, no, not Valthalak, but—
DELIANA: <eyes going wide> Oh…ohh…oh no, no…
To the side, Dontrag and Utvoch are joined by Garrosh.
UTVOCH: <aside> Warchief? What’s going on with Mokvar?
DONTRAG: <aside> He seems to be on pretty…um…good terms with that human.
GARROSH: <aside> Yeah…he does, doesn’t he…
Deliana looks around nervously.
DELIANA: Mokvar, why would he be in Orgrimmar? What is he doing there?
MOKVAR: Bending the Warchief’s ear, mostly…
DELIANA: He…? Oh no…Mokvar…
GARROSH: <aside> Seriously, wasn’t it enough that Thrall had that incomprehensible thing for Jaina? Is this going to be some new thing?
DONTRAG: <aside> Well, begging your pardon, most highly annoyable and punch-titious sir, she…well, she does have nice legs for a human.
UTVOCH: <aside> Eh, doesn’t really do much for me.
DONTRAG: <aside> No, because she doesn’t have hooves, Ut.
DELIANA: Mokvar, what are we going to do?
MOKVAR: I don’t know. He’s managed to get himself into Garrosh’s inner circle somehow. He’s practically become Garrosh’s inner circle. I don’t know if he’s even touchable at this point.
Garona joins Garrosh, Dontrag, and Utvoch.
GARONA: <aside> What are we all looking at?
DONTRAG: <aside> Mokvar putting the moves on some human, we think.
GARONA: <aside> Ugh, really? Why do you orc men always seem to go after everything but orc women?
GARROSH: <aside> You mean based on the example of an orc woman we have on hand?
DELIANA: Mokvar…I’ll try to see if I can learn anything.
MOKVAR: How?
DELIANA: Bodley. I think I may still be able to reach his ghost…
MOKVAR: I’ll see if I can dig up anything on my end. When should we meet again?
DELIANA: Tomorrow? You know where…
MOKVAR: <nods> Be careful.
DELIANA: You too.
Mokvar and Deliana walk cautiously back to their respective sides of the room. The Alliance contingent begins to leave, while Mokvar appears to talk distractedly with Liadrin and Faranell.
GARROSH: I don’t like the looks of this fraternizing with the enemy at all…
MOKVAR: <aside> I’ll talk to you later, Edwin. I think I need a little air.
The lights dim on all but Mokvar as he walks away from the others and leaves. He steps offstage for a moment, then reenters; a spotlight follows him around the stage as he wanders through Dalaran.
{LIANA}
MOKVAR:
A name I never thought I’d hear again…
(Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana)
Since we fled long ago from the heart of a dragon’s den…
(Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana)
Liana!
I saw her again: Deliana.
But now we are aghast:
A shadow of the past
Is here.Liana!
Stay safe, my old friend Deliana.
We may have just delayed
The bane of the Veiled Blade,
I fear.Liana!
Go and seek out the ghost of Bodley,
While I question my contacts broadly.
Liana,
This all played out oddly.
Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana,
Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana.
All our efforts we’d best redouble:
We might be in a whole lot of trouble.
Liana,
WTB pally bubble…
Liana.A name I never thought I’d hear again…
Liana.Blackout. At Valiance Keep, Varian and the other Alliance members enter.
JAINA: Are you really going to go through with this?
VARIAN: Did I look like I was joking when I agreed to it, Jaina?
JAINA: But one fight to determine the future of a whole continent?
SHANDRIS: It does sound like quite the gamble, Highness.
VARIAN: You sound like you don’t have faith in my chances against Garrosh, Shandris.
SHANDRIS: Hellscream does not have the best track record with regard to honorable combat, Highness.
VARIAN: Hence why I insisted we hold the duel in a setting where we can keep a close eye on him.
FALSTAD: He’ll be tryin’ somethin’ fer sure, Yer Highness, just ye watch.
VARIAN: At least in our own territory, we won’t have to worry as much about the place swarming with orcs.
VELEN: Hang on – swarming with orcs? That sounds like something the Legion would do! The Legion isn’t back, is it?
VARIAN: <rubbing forehead> No, Velen, the Legion isn’t back.
VELEN: You’d tell me, right? I need time to pack.
VARIAN: Believe me, the last thing I would ever do is get in the way of you packing.
JAINA: Speaking of which, if you do lose, do you really plan for us to…go through with it?
VARIAN: I made an agreement, Jaina: one battle, leader against leader, for control of Kalimdor, once and for all. I intend to honor it.
TYRANDE: I don’t much like this business of you gambling with the lands my people have called home for millennia.
VARIAN: Oh, hush, Tyrande.
TYRANDE: …
SHANDRIS: Oh no he didn’t.
TYRANDE: You are not nearly hot enough to get away with talking to me like that!
VARIAN: The point is, I don’t intend to lose. And then you’ll be happy I took up the challenge, when the forests of Ashenvale are no longer crawling with orcs.
VELEN: Crawling with orcs! That’s it, not taking any chances – I’m out! Good luck, people.
Velen exits.
VARIAN: <sighs> Well, they don’t call him Bailin’ Velen for nothing, I suppose.
TYRANDE: Wanting the orcs out is all well and good, but taking such an all-or-nothing risk…
SHAW: Really, I don’t see what you’re so worried about. I mean…it’s just Kalimdor.
TYRANDE: Umm…what?
VARIAN: Seriously.
SHANDRIS: You…can’t be serious.
JAINA: You realize they’ve both lived there for thousands of years, right?
FALSTAD: Maybe ye could use a change o’ scenery, then.
VARIAN: I’m not disputing it would be a loss, but it’s not as if there’s a lot over there that’s irreplaceable…
TYRANDE: Are you not familiar with the World Tree?
SHAW: The one that burned with Archimonde and…hang on…nothing happened?
JAINA: I…don’t believe you three.
VARIAN: Oh, don’t worry about Jaina. She grew up in Kul Tiras and Dalaran but then she decided to go move into her own place and forget her old home.
JAINA: Not true! I remember it well.
{KALIMDOR}
JAINA:
Eastern Kingdoms:
A lovely visit.
I wouldn’t ever want to live it.
Greatest city there you found
Pulled itself out of the ground –
Dalaran’d rather float around!
Half the mountains burning.
Undead plague is churning.
I’ll take kingdom Theramore
(Well, till it ain’t there no more).JAINA, TYRANDE, and SHANDRIS:
I like to be here in Kalimdor.
So much to see here in Kalimdor.
Make the orcs flee out of Kalimdor!VARIAN:
Horde burning trees there in Kalimdor.
JAINA:
Winterspring sledding is so fun!
SHAW:
Look for a flight path – there ain’t none!
SHANDRIS:
Vast tranquil plains under blue sky.
VARIAN:
Barrens chat: listen once, you’ll cry.
JAINA:
Earn gold in Ratchet in Kalimdor.
FALSTAD:
Goblins will snatch it in Kalimdor!
TYRANDE:
Draenei chose to land in Kalimdor.
In the background, the Exodar flies by.
VARIAN: <pointing a thumb at the ship>
Velen just abandoned Kalimdor.
TYRANDE:
Historic places in Felwood.
VARIAN:
Illidan screwed that up real good.
JAINA:
Caverns of Time sifting sand, ha!
SHAW:
One slip and you’re your own grandma.
SHANDRIS:
Ysera greets you in Kalimdor!
FALSTAD:
Devilsaurs eat you in Kalimdor!
TYRANDE:
Night elves defiant in Kalimdor.
VARIAN:
Roaches are giant in Kalimdor.
JAINA:
Out to the forests – a fun romp!
SHAW:
Forests? You’re stuck in a damn swamp!
TYRANDE:
Titan creations in Uldum.
FALSTAD:
Those almost made the world go boom.
VARIAN:
So much frustration in Kalimdor.
Steak rules a nation in Kalimdor.
All your flirtation in Kalimdor!JAINA: <glares and draws a dagger>
You risk castration in Kalimdor.
VARIAN:
You should come back to Kul Tiras.
SHANDRIS:
Not on the map – do they fear us?
VARIAN:
Garrosh will strike if you don’t fly.
JAINA:
Yeah, sure, I’d like to see him try.
Blackout. The stage is illuminated again, gradually, by fiery light, revealing the interior of Blackrock Mountain. Mokvar enters, stage left, and walks amid the rubble and stone, looking around cautiously.
The stage lights become brighter as Mokvar nears center stage, illuminating, above, the balcony leading to Blackrock Spire. From the entrance to the spire, Deliana enters, looking down.
DELIANA: Mokvar!
MOKVAR: <looking up> Liana! Are you all right up there?
DELIANA: Other than a few bruises from the fifteen times I tried to hop over to this blasted balcony and missed? Peachy.
MOKVAR: Yeah, I’m not taking my chances. Knowing my luck I’m liable to fall in the lava.
DELIANA: Does anyone know you’re here?
MOKVAR: No. You can tell that by the fact that I am here, and not dead.
DELIANA: <nods> I had to sneak out as well… I suspect Varian would be none too pleased if he knew I was meeting you.
MOKVAR: I’m pretty sure “none too pleased” would be the best case scenario with Garrosh.
DELIANA: Have you found out anything?
MOKVAR: Nothing very much. I’ve had to be fairly careful with my asking around, so I haven’t been able to dig as much as I’d like. I know Malkorok turned up in Orgrimmar some months ago, and rose through the ranks quickly. But nobody seems to know where he came from. Well, other than the obvious.
DELIANA: <nods> I can’t understand how he won Garrosh’ trust so quickly.
MOKVAR: How did he win Rend’s?
DELIANA: And how did that work out?
MOKVAR: I know… What about you? Were you able to…?
DELIANA: Yes… <sighs>
MOKVAR: The fact that you’re stopping there tells me it’s bad news.
DELIANA: Not much to go on, but it doesn’t sound good. I was only able to make contact briefly, but…there have been spectral assassins here. Leaving the spire. For the first time in years…
MOKVAR: There’s…about half a dozen ways to account for that, and none of them are good.
DELIANA: I know.
MOKVAR: Anything else?
DELIANA: That’s it so far. <sigh> I’d really hoped this was over years ago.
MOKVAR: So did I.
DELIANA: I suppose you reap what you sow, though, don’t you…
MOKVAR: Yeah… Well, what’s done is done. Nothing to be done about it now.
DELIANA: I know. Still, I wish I could just go back in time sometimes.
MOKVAR: No, you don’t. Trust me. It’s more headaches than it’s worth.
DELIANA: What do we do now?
MOKVAR: I’ll try to call in a few more of my contacts…I’ve got a few people still who owe me favors. Check around too, if you can…
DELIANA: I will. I’ll find a way to contact you one way or another in the next day or two.
MOKVAR: Be careful. If the wrong people find out what we’re doing, they’re not going to care what it is we’re actually talking about.
DELIANA: I know. Watch out for yourself, Mokvar.
MOKVAR: Have been for years. Stay safe, Liana.
Liana nods, then waves, and disappears into the spire doorway. Mokvar watches her go, looks around uneasily, and exits, stage right.
After Mokvar leaves the stage, a low whooshing sound is heard. To the left side of the stage, near one of the large stone blocks, Garona unstealths. She peers across the stage to the right side, a look of concern on her face, then stealths again.
The curtain closes.
{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 2…}
The Roshy Horror Picture Show
Barnes walks back offstage following his introduction, as the ghostly audience applauds.
BARNES: Go no now, they’re waiting for you!
GARROSH: Um, the FUCK you say?
MOKVAR: Do you mean we’re supposed to…?
BARNES: As I said, your tale sounds like an intriguing one…
FARANELL: Ugh, I always hated school plays…
GARROSH: Yeah, fine, but…
BARNES: And if you want my help with your Malchezaar problem, you’re just going to have to help me with tonight’s audience!
GARROSH: You can’t seriously—
BARNES: Now don’t worry, the magic of the Opera House will help you along as you go.
GARROSH: But we—
BARNES: Now go on! There they are now, entertain them!
GARROSH: Ugh. Fine.
Garrosh sighs and reluctantly trudges out on stage, followed by the rest of the group. The audience applauds their arrival.
GARONA: <scanning the applauding crowd> I could get used to this, actually…
MOKVAR: So, uh, what are we supposed to do?
GARROSH: Beats me…
BARNES: <echoing from offstage> Oh, all right, I can see you have a touch of stage fright, so I’ll help get you started…
Music begins to play as an enormous, disembodied spectral mouth appears at the back of the stage and slowly floats forward.
GARROSH: <jumping away from the mouth as it moves up> The FUCK?!
{DEMON HUNTERS TRIPLE FEATURE}
PROLOGUE (a.k.a. THE LIPS):
Some adventurers came; they were not seeking fame,
But our audience would rejoice.
They knew axes and runes, not so much spinning tunes,
But our magic here would give them a voice.They came on a quest, ventured seeking to best
A demon that they call Malchezaar.
But their prey they can’t face, while he’s in Netherspace;
Why they seek him, well that’s quite bizarre.Demon hunters triple feature:
Spectral patrons will fill the bleachers.
Here one night only: Hordies singing!
Improv performances, they’ll be winging.
Oh oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.It’s a perilous tale! Will our heroes prevail
As they journey the pathways of time?
At a dragon’s behest, everyone was impressed,
Though “Nozdormu” is a real bitch to rhyme.But as they went along, something went wrong,
You’ll see, just wait for the surprise!
For they found themselves trapped as the worlds overlapped –
Watch it unfold now in front of your eyes!Demon hunters triple feature:
Spectral patrons will fill the bleachers.
Here one night only: Hordies singing!
Improv performances, they’ll be winging.
Oh oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.
The stars will glow,
Oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.
An hour or so,
Oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.
So here we go,
Oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.The ghostly mouth fades away. Garrosh and the others look back and forth awkwardly among themselves as the audience starts to murmur.
GARROSH: Yeah…so…
MOKVAR: What now?
BARNES: <offstage> You folks really aren’t used to performing, are you?
GARROSH: Yeah, how about I drop you into a battlefield with no prepping and see how YOU do, spooks.
BARNES: <sighs> Well, how did everything begin with this adventure of yours?
GARROSH: Well, Sylvanas reported this whole—
BARNES: Don’t tell me, tell them!
GARROSH: Oh. <turns to face the audience> Uh…yeah, so, Sylvanas came to me with this problem…
A ghostly likeness of Sylvanas Windrunner walks onstage and approaches Garrosh.
…and…well holy crap, look at that…
Music starts to swell again. Garrosh looks around in confusion.
SYLVANAS: Hail, Warchief!
GARROSH: Um…okay…
SYLVANAS: I’ve got something to ask…
GARROSH: Uh…yeah?
SYLVANAS:
…of your leadership, in which we bask.
But now, I fear, I must beg a task.GARROSH: This is…kinda weird…
{OH GOSH, GARROSH}
SYLVANAS:
We need your help now, son of Grommash!
LIADRIN and MOKVAR: <together, flatly>
(Garrosh.)
SYLVANAS:
You’re leading the Horde with such panache.
(Garrosh.)
That Theramore thing, we’ll just whitewash.
(Garrosh.)
So I need to tell you now,
Oh gosh, Garrosh,
We need you.The problem we have I know you’ll squash.
(Garrosh.)
Whoever’s behind it, you will quash.
(Garrosh.)
If you pull this off, Aka’Magosh!
(Garrosh.)
So I need to tell you now,
Oh gosh, Garrosh,
We need you.There is something killing the Forsaken
In Southshore – details are still vague.
Something magic, if I’m not mistaken.
Oh, but don’t fret, we weren’t making plague.Nope. No way. <glances around furtively>
GARROSH:
I asked for a contact; you said him.
(Edwin.)
This Faranell guy, with the dead grin.
(Edwin.)
Your Banshee Queen, she’s been beggin’.
(Edwin.)
So let’s get to work now, Doc,
Come in, Edwin,
I’ll save you.So, Edwin…
FARANELL:
Yeah? <looking disturbed to find himself singing> Oh gosh…
GARROSH:
Where to begin?
FARANELL:
Well…Garrosh…
GARROSH:
What to do?
One side of the stage fades into the likeness of old Southshore, while the other side takes on that of the Caverns of Time.
FARANELL:
We’re kind of screwed.
Here is what we’ve got to do…We’ll travel in time – really, no josh –
(Garrosh.)
To trace back this anti-plague death slosh.
(Garrosh.)
Once it’s found, I’ll put the kibosh.
(Garrosh.)
That covers it, I think, so
Oh gosh, Garrosh,
Time we flew.Oh gosh, Garrosh…
GARROSH:
Edwin, no chin.
FARANELL:
Hey! Gosh, Garrosh.
GARROSH and FARANELL: <looking increasingly uneasy with all of this>
Wow, that blew.
GARONA: So, hold on, how did you all know to…you know…sing that?
GARROSH: I just kind of DID…
FARANELL: That was…weird…
BARNES: <offstage> As I said, the Opera House glamours will help you along — now keep it going, you’re on a roll!
GARROSH: My dad never had to do any shit like this to kill fucking Mannoroth…
MOKVAR: Okay, so next…
LIADRIN: <turning to the audience> The mission to save the Forsaken in the past was a success…
The scenery on one side of the stage morphs from the appearance of Southshore to that of Orgrimmar.
…but when we returned, we found that the past had been altered…
GARONA: <looking around> Oh wow, this is freaky…
Around them, Orgrimmar flickers between its normal appearance and one torn by battle, with demons and Scourge running about.
MOKVAR: You should have been there when it was actually happening.
GARROSH: Right, so at that point…
Music begins to resonate through the hall.
DONTRAG: Uh, I think it’s starting again…
FARANELL: Aren’t we lucky…
{TIME WARP}
GARROSH:
Noz has spoken –
Time is broken,
All thanks to Faranell.
Now what’s left for me?LIADRIN:
Ask Soridormi.
MOKVAR:
Timelines have gone to hell.
FARANELL:
I remember
Being in Southshore
Up till that moment when
The blackness consumed me…GARROSH:
Now this future will doom me!
ALL:
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!FARANELL:
I took a turn to the left.
ALL:
It should have been to the right!
FARANELL:
Bad news, everyone!
ALL:
No Putricide in sight!
And now the surging Scourge
Invade us from Northrend.
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!LIADRIN:
It’s intriguing.
UTVOCH:
But mentally fatiguing…
LIADRIN:
With the demons blitzkrieging
We need a plan.GARROSH: <rushing in with Focusing Iris in hand>
Hey now, get out of my way!
We’re gonna fix up the timeways.
Hit the old Hillsbrad highways,
Back where it all began.FARANELL:
Now I’m feeling regretful…
MOKVAR:
Wait till you get forgetful:
Those gaps in memory now and then.GARROSH:
I see demons invadin’!
LIADRIN: <drawing the Ashbringer>
I got dibs on Kil’jaeden!
ALL:
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!FARANELL:
Well I was running down the street
Toward the Southshore inn,
Had to tag myselves “it”
Much to my chagrin.
She’d told me the plan
And she seemed strong and wise;
She had a blood elf’s shape
And a dragon’s eyes.
I pounced myself and I felt displaced –
Time convulsing, snapping back in place.ALL:
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!FARANELL:
I took a turn to the left.
ALL:
It should have been to the right!
FARANELL:
Bad news, everyone!
ALL:
The Legion joins the fight!
The fall of Orgrimmar –
It wasn’t if, but when.
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!FARANELL:
I took a turn to the left.
ALL:
It should have been to the right!
FARANELL:
Bad news, everyone!
ALL:
There’s nothing here that’s right!
We’ve got to fix this mess,
So turn the years back ten.
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!Everyone collapses onto the floor for a moment as the lights dim, the surrounding scenery fades, and a dark curtain slides in close behind them. After a few seconds, they begin to rise to their feet.
DONTRAG: So wait, all that really happened?
UTVOCH: What have I been trying to tell you?
DONTRAG: Why don’t I remember any of it?
UTVOCH: Donty, the stuff you don’t remember we could just about crowbar into Razorwind Canyon.
GARROSH: Enough, you two!
LIADRIN: But, that pretty much covers everything important, doesn’t it?
A rhythmic bass line and drum beat can be heard in the background.
FARANELL: More or less.
GARONA: Why am I still hearing music, then?
GARROSH: Yeah, good question, shouldn’t it be show over at this point?
BARNES: <offstage> You’ll have to forgive me — while I was drawing on your memories for the show so far, well…there was just too much other great material to pass up!
MOKVAR: Oh no…
GARROSH: Oh crap, what have you people been remembering now?
A heavy guitar chord echoes through the hall as the dark curtain parts, and, from just behind Garrosh, Lor’themar Theron struts on stage, dressed in a full Black Mageweave set. (And no, not the male version.)
GARROSH: The FUCK?
{E-TRANSVESTITE}
LOR’THEMAR:
Greetings, orc-kind!
Hope you don’t mind
My dropping in for a call.
It’s always quite the same:
You forget my name –
I never once called you Thrall.Don’t get freaked out
By the way I look;
Don’t rush to judgments too early.
I’m not much of a man
In the daytime sun,
But online I’m one popular girly.I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.Could you show me around?
Maybe help get this mob down?
Think you could spare me a dollar?
Or is your interest waning
In more dungeon chaining?
If you change your mind, give me a holler.GARROSH:
Um, listen, dude,
I don’t mean to be rude.
I don’t want you throwing a fit.
You do your thing, fine,
Just…do it online.
No one needs to look at that shit.LOR’THEMAR:
So you don’t like the sight?
Well now, you just might
Have met, in your times epicurean,
One hot sexy avatar,
Says she’s from Astranaar –
That night elf’s real name might be Malfurion.I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.Why don’t you free up your mind?
You won’t be maligned.
Just try to enjoy the eye candy.
I mean nothing malicious
In looking so delicious –
But trusting noobs really are handy.I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.Hey! Hey!
I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.So, log on to play,
And look with dismay
At those female toons you’ve been observing.
But you’ve got those blinders
While in Dungeon Finder,
So I’ll dispel the veil…but not your perving!As he delivers the last line, the curtain closes in front of him. The audience bursts into raucous applause.
GARROSH: Okay, what in the holy FUCK was THAT?
MOKVAR: Well, you did call him out for playing a female toon…
GARROSH: And also, THAT gets the ovation?
FARANELL: Personally, I thought my bridge was pretty good.
GARROSH: And a whole lot less discomforting…
Barnes walks out on stage with them.
BARNES: A hand for our performers, ladies and gentlemen!
The audience applauds more.
GARROSH: Okay, so we’re good now, right, spooks? Ready to set us up with this mystery in of yours?
BARNES: All in good time, sir.
GARROSH: Wait, what the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?
BARNES: <grinning> Well as I said, sir, while I was casting the glamours, I took the liberty of poking around in some of your memories…and I’m afraid you all have far too much wonderful story material for me not to avail myself of the opportunity.
GARROSH: Um…WHAT?
BARNES: And we do still have another show to tend to after the intermission. You and your friends are welcome, of course, to take the opportunity to rest and refresh yourselves…
GARROSH: Intermission? What intermission?
BARNES: This one, sir. We’ll resume with a new tale soon.
The curtain closes to mounting applause.
Fifteen seconds to curtain, Garrosh Hellscream
The good thing about Karazhan is that most of the spooks and monsters got cleared out a long time ago, so getting around in there is pretty painless. Well, other than the fact that the place is fucking GIGANTIC. Seriously, you look at it from the outside and you’re like, “Okay, decent-sized creepy-ass castle,” and then you go inside and it’s like “HOLY CRAP, it did NOT look this big from out there.” No wonder Medivh hired a guy just to stand at the door and port people up, because I swear half of these old ghosts probably originally died from exhaustion just trying to get anywhere.
Lucky for us, the Opera House wasn’t that bad of a hike, especially with Garona with us to make sure we didn’t take any wrong turns. It’s a pretty impressive place – high ceilings, mosaics, a giant chandelier, an enormous pipe organ set up on the far side of the chamber. By the way, when we were first sizing the place up, I made the mistake of saying “enormous pipe organ,” which resulted in D&U taking seven full minutes to snicker like retarded fourteen year olds, until Liadrin told them to go sit in the corner until they could get their sit together.
Anyway, we went backstage, and eventually made our way around to the side door to the stage. That’s where we found Barnes, the ghostly stage manager.
BARNES: Ah, greetings, all of you! Are you the new actors?
GARROSH: Uh, yeah, not so much there, scooter.
BARNES: Oh? A pity. You clearly have the strong jawline of a leading man.
MOKVAR: Probably easy to pull that off when his face is half jaw.
FARANELL: Sure, rub it in.
GARROSH: You know, I’m not above leaving a couple extra ghosts here as a tip.
LIADRIN: <aside to Faranell> You were right. It does become rather entertaining after a while.
BARNES: Well then, ladies and gentlemen, might I ask what brings you to our humble theater?
GARROSH: To tell you the truth, Barnes, it’s kind of a long story…
DONTRAG: We’re trying to kill the most imperial and despicuous demon Malchazan—
UTVOCH: I think you mean “despicable”…
DONTRAG: —who we need to kill before he can—
UTVOCH: And it’s Malazaar, I think.
DONTRAG: Will you stay out of it, Ut? I know what I’m saying!
UTVOCH: Maybe so, but nobody else—
Garrosh grabs Dontrag and Utvoch, smacks their heads together, and drops them onto the floor.
GARROSH: …and there’s pretty much zero chance of getting the short version if we let those two get rolling.
GARONA: Why do you even bring them places if you’re just going to treat them like that?
GARROSH: Good point. Related question: Why do I keep bringing YOU places?
MOKVAR: That’s actually a fairly good blanket question.
BARNES: So…erm…sir… I surmise your business here involves Prince Malchezaar in the tower…
FARANELL: This one doesn’t miss much.
BARNES: But, um… I’m not sure I understand why that would bring you here to the Opera House, sir, rather than to the upper levels.
GARROSH: <sigh> Right. Well, the thing of it is, we need to find a way to get Malchezaar DOWN from the top floor, otherwise our…business with him won’t take.
BARNES: <grins> Ah, so you’re aware of the peculiar nature of the Netherspace, eh, sir?
GARROSH: We’re in the know, yeah.
BARNES: If I might ask, then, sir…is there a particular reason why you feel the need to kill the demon permanently? He seems perfectly contained up there, and in a fairly out-of-the-way location.
GARROSH: Because we know the Burning Legion stashed up there for safekeeping, until they’re ready to crack him out. We want to make sure they don’t get the chance to.
BARNES: Really… And…how do you know this, sir?
Garrosh exchanges looks with Liadrin and Mokvar.
MOKVAR: Because we’ve seen what happens when they DO get him out.
BARNES: <grins> Now…that sounds like an interesting tale.
GARROSH: Yeah, that’s kind of where the “long story” part kicks in.
BARNES: I wouldn’t mind the abbreviated version, sir.
LIADRIN: Caverns of Time, closed causality loop, accidental historical disruption, quantum reality splintering, demons in Orgrimmar, temporal incursion to re-seal trans-dimensional cracks. You know, the usual. Did I miss anything?
GARROSH: …Head hurts.
BARNES: Maybe…not quite that abbreviated, ma’am. Or…technical.
DONTRAG: <slowly getting up> I think I followed the “demons” part, kind of…
GARROSH: Anyway, the point is that we need a way to get Malchezaar out of his storage box up there, and we hear tell you theater types have some summoning mojo working for you down here.
BARNES: Well, we do have some fairly considerable summoning spells here, sir…
GARROSH: There we go, let’s fire it up, then, and—
BARNES: …but those mainly consist of drawing images from the mind, I’m afraid, not actual physical summoning.
GARROSH: Is it just an Azeroth thing? You people saving the “no” part until after you’ve gotten everyone thinking “yes”?
BARNES: Still… I think I may be of some help to you, sir.
GARROSH: <pauses> There isn’t a “but” coming here, is there?
BARNES: Sir?
GARROSH: Never mind. I’m listening.
BARNES: While I can’t personally do anything to help with the Malcheazaar matter…
GARROSH: <rolling eyes> “But.”
BARNES: …there are certain other…sources of magical power on the premises that I could connect you with through the Opera House.
GARROSH: Well what are we waiting for, spooks? Hook us up.
BARNES: Ah, but sir, first there is still a floor show for me to tend to.
GARROSH: Uh, dude, priorities? This is actually kind of real-life important here.
BARNES: Oh, I understand, sir. But you know the old saying: The show must go on!
Barnes opens the door next to him and walks out on stage.
GARROSH: The hell is this about a floor show?
MOKVAR: In an empty house?
FARANELL: In the middle of the night?
As Barnes reaches center stage, hundreds of ghostly patrons appears in the Opera House seats and begin applauding. A spotlight appears over Barnes.
BARNES: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this evening’s presentation! Tonight, we present a special traveling troupe of performers to regale you with a terrifying tale of a world gone awry! How did it begin? Where will it end? All this and more will be revealed, as our guests find themselves stranded in an ominous castle deep into the night!
And now: On with the show!
{THE CURTAIN RISES AT MIDNIGHT EST…}
Magical mystery tour
Now that things have quieted down around here – granted, not quite as successfully as I might have liked – I’m finally getting around to a bit of business I’ve had in the back of my mind ever since that whole mess with the overlapping timelines. See, if you remember, one of the reasons the Burning Legion was able to take out Orgrimmar so easily was that they had Prince Malchezaar tucked away in Karazhan, in that time-loopy Netherspace, so they could crack him out whenever they needed him and have him use one of Medivh’s old spellbooks to port them right in on top of us. Which, if you remember, wasn’t exactly a fun time for the good guys.
Now granted, that timeline never happened for us now, but one thing that’s come out of it is that NOW, I know what Malchezaar is actually doing up there in Karazhan – basically sitting there in storage, on a permanent death-then-respawn loop, until the Legion turns up and needs him. Which, by the way, I’ve got to say, as much as I hate the demons, that’s a job that has to take some stones to sign up for. Assuming Malchezaar had any choice in the matter. But can you imagine that? Committing yourself to dying over and over, just to come back and die some more? Can you imagine how much someone would have to believe in the cause to go along with something like that, and stick to it even after X number of go-rounds?
Anyway, point is, now I know what Malchezaar is doing there, and just importantly, I’ve seen first-hand the threat he could pose to the Horde. So I think it’s high time we made it our business to neutralize that threat. The one trick, though, is that we can’t just go up to the Netherspace where Malchezaar is hiding and kill him there – then he would just pop back up again as soon as the time loop resets. Nothing accomplished there. So we’ve got to find a way to get him down from there first.
And before you go suggesting one of us should go up there, shoot him, then take off down the stairs so he’ll chase us till he’s out of the Netherspace…come on. Malchezaar’s a poncy fucker, sure, but he’s not a damn idiot. He knows that as long as he’s up there he’s safe, and as soon as he leaves he’s vulnerable. So I’ve got to figure he’d be smart enough to leash back to his home base as soon as he sees what we’re doing. So we’ll have to come up with another way to yank him down from there.
But, bottom line – we’re going to Karazhan.
Since part of the mission is going to be finding or improvising a way to get Malchezaar down from the Netherspace, and it’s hard to say just what we’ll be up against in the process, I’m bringing a decent team with me. And since the mission is largely based on what we learned in that other timeline, I’m first and foremost bringing the people who’ll remember that timeline with me: Mokvar, Liadrin, Faranell, and Utvoch.
Side note, speaking of which: I’ve talked to Mokvar and Liadrin since the whole time fiasco, and from what I gather, those of us who had gone on the original Southshore mission – the ones who were still aware of our original timeline when we started shifting into the other one – can still remember everything that happened with the two realities. Mokvar remembers shifting back and forth with me. Liadrin remembers becoming leader of the Argent Crusade and bearer of the Ashbringer. Etc., etc. Other than us, no one seems to remember anything strange happening – it’s as if the second timeline never existed for them. Which, in a way, it didn’t, now.
I’m not exactly sure what Edwin’s perception of everything would be at this point, what with him being in kind of a unique position. I’ll have to remember to ask him about that before we finish up with this.
Anyway, that’s the bulk of the group. Since Utvoch is coming, I’m also letting him bring Dontrag along, because (a) Dontrag whined enough about not getting to come along last time, (b) the two of them are hard enough to separate under the best of circumstances, and (c) bringing one of them but not the other would require someone to figure out which of them is which, and let’s face it, that’s a crap shoot most of the time any way you cut it.
I’m also having Garona come with us, since she spent a fair amount of time in Karazhan back in the day, not to mention she had kind of an in with Medivh. Or should I said, Medivh had…you know what? Never mind. She might read this, and I don’t need the headaches.
Meanwhile, while we’re off doing our thing in Karazhan, I’m leaving Malkorok to oversee the ongoing preparations for battle with the Alliance. That and pay a little visit to Neeru Fireblade in the Cleft of Shadow. Related loose ends.
So, I contacted everyone, and we all met up this morning in Stonard, then flew over to Karazhan. When we first arrived, we found a roost for gryphons outside the upper tower, and we were going to leave our mounts there until we realized, hey, there’s actually no way to get DOWN from there once the mounts are settled, and also, who the hell sets up of flight point like that, seriously?
FARANELL: Well, Medivh was probably thinking, if you can’t get down easily enough with Slow Fall, that’s your own fault for not having the good sense to be a mage.
Oh, shut up, Doc. Of course Mokvar never misses a word of the smartassing when it happens.
Anyway, Garona remembered that there were stables just inside the gate, so we brought our mounts in with us to stash there. While everyone was getting their wyverns and bats and (ugh) dragonhawks secured, Mortimer went sniffing around the stables – he doesn’t take too well to being strapped down anyplace, but he’s good enough about staying where he’s supposed to be that I usually let him wander. While he was poking around, he found this ghostly horse in the back area – all spooky-looking with glowing eyes and flaming hooves. The two of them took a couple minutes to check each other out, and then each of them seemed to decide that the other was okay. When I came around to check on them, the horse apparently took a liking to me and started following me around until we strapped it into one of the pens. So, yeah, another mount to add to the collection. Whoopee.
Once we were done in the stables, we came back out to the foyer, where we found Berthold, Medivh’s old doorman, standing by the main stairway. Or, well, the GHOST of Berthold. Man, I don’t know what kind of contract some of these servants had with Medivh, but it must have been a doozy – they don’t even get to check out when they fucking DIE. These people really should have joined a union or something.
Anyway, Berthold managed to get us going in a possible right direction…
BERTHOLD: Ah, excellent! Greetings, all! The master hasn’t had guests in so terribly long!
FARANELL: Do you think that maybe that could be because he’s dead?
GARROSH: Heh. You’ve got a point, Doc.
MOKVAR: To be fair, so is this guy.
BERTHOLD: Goodness…could it be…Garona?
GARONA: Hey, Berthold. Long time no see.
GARROSH: Oh, that’s right, you would have known this guy from way back when…
BERTHOLD: I remember your son coming here not so long ago, Garona… But surely, he couldn’t really be your son! You couldn’t be old enough to be the mother of a boy his age.
GARONA: I see you’re a flatterer as always, Berthold.
BERTHOLD: I only speak the truth, my lady. Time has stood still for you.
GARROSH: Seriously?
GARONA: What’s that supposed to mean?
GARROSH: Never mind. Forget it.
GARONA: Just because I have a grown son doesn’t mean I’m ancient, you know!
MOKVAR: Oh boy, here we go again.
GARONA: It’s always the same with you, isn’t it? If a woman isn’t jailbait…
GARROSH: Remind me again how old you were when you paired off with old graybeard Medivh?
GARONA: …What does that have to do with anything?
GARROSH: Well hey, if I’m going to take crap about liking ’em young, I’m just wondering how far into the shallow end of the pool Mr. Last Guardian was dipping.
GARONA: Fine – I happened to have a thing for older men at the time, okay? Are you happy now?
GARROSH: Uh huh. And how much older are we talking?
GARONA: I don’t see how that’s important!
GARROSH: Hey, doorman dude.
BERTHOLD: Yes sir?
GARROSH: How long HAS it been since you’ve seen little miss charm school here?
BERTHOLD: Well, sir…
GARONA: You don’t have to answer that, Berthold.
GARROSH: GO ON.
BERTHOLD: About…twenty-five years, sir? Give or take?
GARONA: <sigh>
GARROSH: Uh huh. And by your best count, how old was Medivh at the time?
BERTHOLD: About fifty, sir. As best as I can figure.
GARROSH: <smirking at Garona victoriously> Oh yeah. He loved you for your mind, I’m sure.
LIADRIN: Don’t listen to him, Garona. I think you look lovely.
GARONA: Oh you stay out of this, twiggy.
LIADRIN: I… <blinks> Okay, then…
FARANELL: That moment when you realize Garrosh may actually possess preternatural patience.
DONTRAG: Begging your pardon, Warchief?
FARANELL: Case in point.
GARROSH: Yes, Utvoch? I assume this is… <sighs> …important?
DONTRAG: Um, well, I’m actually Dontrag, sir.
UTVOCH: I’m Utv—
GARROSH: Both of you.
DONTRAG and UTVOCH: Yes sir?
GARROSH: How long have I known you?
MOKVAR: I’m assuming you want something more specific than “too long.”
DONTRAG: About a year now, sir?
GARROSH: And in the past year, can you tell me one thing I’ve done or said that suggested to you that I gave so much as half a shit which of you is which?
UTVOCH: No, sir.
DONTRAG: Not really, sir.
GARROSH: Okay then. So what were you going to ask, Utvoch?
DONTRAG: But I’m Dontr—OWW!!
GARROSH: Half a shit, not given. The question.
DONTRAG: <rubbing his head> Uh, well…it wasn’t anything important, sir.
GARROSH: Yeah, like I couldn’t have guessed that from the get-go. Moving on.
GARONA: You’re so mean sometimes.
GARROSH: You want to see mean, grandma?
GARONA: I don’t know why I keep trying to help—
LIADRIN: Not to interrupt…but might we try to focus on what we came here for?
GARROSH: Yeah, good point. So…
GARONA: Oh sure, listen to her.
GARROSH: MOVING ON.
FARANELL: I really should have brought popcorn.
GARROSH: Okay, so Berthold, you’ve been watching the door here for how long?
BERTHOLD: Oh goodness, sir, longer than I can remember. Ages.
GARROSH: So you were here when Malchezaar and the other demons arrived some years back.
BERTHOLD: Yes, sir. Malchezaar, Illhoof, a few others.
MOKVAR: Um, just thinking out loud here, but if you’re the doorman, wouldn’t it be your job to, say, not let those guys in?
BERTHOLD: Well, I suppose, sir…in theory…but, well…I am a ghost.
GARROSH: And?
BERTHOLD: Well…I couldn’t really do much to stop them, what with my being noncorporeal and all.
GARROSH: Uh, what about like the zillion and five ghosts that I’ve had attack me in places like this?
FARANELL: Speaking from personal experience, I’ve never let being dead stop me from smacking someone down if need be.
GARROSH: See?
FARANELL: I mean, that’s just about standards.
BERTHOLD: I…well…um, I don’t know what to tell you, sir…
GARROSH: Okay, first, we’ll just update your title from “doorman” to “doormat” and move on. So when you’re not doing a bang-up job on house security, what DO you do?
BERTHOLD: Well, mostly I port people to the upper levels of the tower, sir.
MOKVAR: Sounds like an exciting life.
LIADRIN: Hmm, Berthold?
BERTHOLD: Yes, ma’am?
LIADRIN: Since you have the ability to use porting magic, is there any chance you could do the reverse? Summon someone from elsewhere in the tower to here?
BERTHOLD: I’m afraid not, ma’am. I’m not sure anyone but the master possessed that kind of power over the premises here, at least not without special enhancements.
GARROSH: Enhancements, like what?
BERTHOLD: Well, for instance, sir, I believe there was a summoning circle off of one of the libraries that Illhoof used to use…
MOKVAR: Probably only good for pulling demons from the Twisted Nether…
BERTHOLD: …or there’s the Opera House, where the performers can summon…well, all manner of things, from what I hear. Glamours mostly, I suppose, but one never knows with those theater types.
GARROSH: Huh. What do you magic types think?
FARANELL: Hard to say without seeing what they have going on there.
MOKVAR: Sounds like it’s mostly smoke and mirrors, really, but I’m not sure what else to suggest.
GARONA: Medivh might have had some relics in the upper chambers that we could use, but I’m not sure, and we’d have to go past the Opera House regardless…
GARROSH: Okay, sounds like we have something to go check on, anyway.
BERTHOLD: Very good, sir. When you go, please do give my best to Barnes, the stage manager. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him.
GARROSH: Huh. Not for anything, but if you’re, like, Mr. Portal Guy, why couldn’t you port yourself up there to pay him a visit?
BERTHOLD: I…goodness…now that you mention it, sir, I don’t see why not…
GARROSH: Yeah, see?
BERTHOLD: Why…I could portal myself…anywhere in the castle… <eyes widening> Ghost concubines, here I come!
Berthold waves his hand and teleports away.
GARROSH: Huh.
MOKVAR: He could have at least offered to send us to the Opera House first.
GARONA: You men are all alike. Even when you’re dead.
Okay, so, kind of a surprise ending there, but at least we’ve got a possible lead or two. We’re making our way to the Opera House now, so with any luck we’ll dig up something useful. If not, well, we’ve got a giant creepy haunted castle full of stuff to go rifling through. Sounds like a recipe for success to me.
Stay tuned.
“Knock knock. (Who’s there?) Eugene. (Eugene who?) You, Jean, and I would make a lovely couple, don’t you think, Susan?”
The last Warchief
Dranosh kept staring down at the ruins of Orgrimmar as we circled high above the city. We were too far to hear anything other than the faintest sounds of the demons and undead, but the fires were unmistakable even from here.
I finally went over and stood next to him. He didn’t look away from the sight below. We stood there in silence for a few minutes.
DRANOSH: Do you remember the first time you saw Orgrimmar?
GARROSH: <nods> Thrall brought me, not that long after he came to Garadar.
DRANOSH: My father took me. He was so excited to show me the new home the orcs had built. So proud to introduce me around – every grunt, every merchant, everyone. I remember thinking how every last person in the city seemed to know him.
GARROSH: Well, he IS Saurfang.
DRANOSH: <nods, then pauses> Maybe Thrall should have chosen him. Or Cairne. Or…Vol’jin. <shrugs> Or you, for that matter.
GARROSH: I thought you said I’d be terrible at it.
DRANOSH: Have you looked down there? At what I’ve led us to? I don’t think you would have done much worse.
GARROSH: <staring down> This…this wasn’t your fault. You’ve been a good Warchief.
DRANOSH: Then why am I about to become the last one?
Remember when I said this timeline was the better one? Well, as long as time is getting screwed with anyway, let’s go back and erase that I’d ever said that. Orgrimmar was bad enough…but now Dranosh…
At least the Wrathgate killed him quickly. Not one little piece at a time.
We stood there silently for I’m not sure how long, until Dranosh finally turned around and gave Drok the order to set us on our way to Theramore. As we started to pull away, Dranosh took one more look down at the burning shell of Orgrimmar.
DRANOSH: I still don’t understand how this happened…
MOKVAR: Warchief? I think I might have at least a few answers for us…
Mokvar pulls a frog from until his cloak and dangles it by one leg.
GARROSH: Is that…?
MOKVAR: Neeru Fireblade. I’ve been keeping him hexed. I figure he may be able to fill in a few gaps if we want to pop him.
DRANOSH: Is this the one who did this?
GARROSH: Not alone. But he was the ringleader of those warlocks in the Cleft of Shadow, anyway…
DRANOSH: <visibly fuming> Oh… Oh, bring him out. I want to talk to this one…
Mokvar nods and drops the frog on the deck, then zaps it with a frost shock to break the hex. Before Neeru Fireblade can react in his restored orc form, Dranosh grabs him by his robes and shoves him back against the railing.
DRANOSH: Oh hello, Neeru, so glad you made it out in one piece…
Neeru struggles against Dranosh’s grip, but Dranosh only shoves him back harder.
It would have been such a shame if you’d gotten yourself killed back there and cost me the chance to do the honors myself.
Neeru looks around at the gunship, then grins and chuckles cruelly.
NEERU: Based on our surroundings, I assume the day goes badly, eh, Warchief?
GARROSH: Not nearly as badly as it’s about to go for you if you don’t talk.
DRANOSH: I’ve got a lot of questions, Neeru, but here’s the main one – why?
NEERU: <laughing> Why? Why would I work against my enemy? Are you really that naïve, boy?
DRANOSH: How is the Horde your enemy? You’ve been a citizen of Orgrimmar for years!
NEERU: And a warlock of the Burning Blade for longer! That shaman who came before you wanted to believe so badly that some of us might yet be redeemed that he gave us haven in his precious capital. Even when his agents told him my loyalties might be…conflicted…the trusting fool still left me there in my tent to go about my business unimpeded.
GARROSH: Wow, seriously?
MOKVAR: You didn’t know about this?
GARROSH: Would have been nice if he’d left me a fucking note about it or something…
NEERU: <chuckling> Allegiance to the Shadow Council is not foresworn so readily.
DRANOSH: So you’ve been sitting there all these years plotting this?
NEERU: This specifically? No, no, boy. Simply…watching for moments of opportunity. And the Scourge attack on Orgrimmar proved a superb one.
GARROSH: While we were busy watching the rear gate, there was nobody to keep an eye on you bastards in the Cleft.
DRANOSH: Is that what the demons were doing in the Deadwind Pass? Gathering for your go-ahead?
NEERU: Our go-ahead, and more importantly our beacon to target their portal. The Legion also happened to have, in the Deadwind Pass, some ideal resources for a surprise attack such as this.
GARROSH: Malchezaar, in Karazhan.
NEERU: Holder of one of the most powerful sources of portal magic in this world – the Book of Medivh.
DRANOSH: Hold on – I’ve heard of Malchezaar, but I thought he was dead.
MOKVAR: He was.
GARROSH: Repeatedly.
MOKVAR: Didn’t take.
DRANOSH: Excuse me?
NEERU: <chuckling> Your mind is so comically linear.
GARROSH: Malchezaar hung out in the highest level of Karazhan, where it pokes through into this whole other dimension.
MOKVAR: Netherspace.
GARROSH: Time doesn’t work the same way up there…it’s like it’s locked in this infinite loop. So people went up there and killed him, yeah, and then a few days later the loop would reset, and he’d be there alive again.
MOKVAR: And then someone else would kill him, and in a few days the loop would reset again.
GARROSH: On and on endlessly.
DRANOSH: And he just stayed there to die over and over? Why would anyone do that? Why wouldn’t he just leave?
NEERU: Because so long as he was there, he could never truly die, you fool. No matter how many deaths he might endure – hundreds, perhaps – the Netherspace would always restore him. The perfect hiding place for the Legion to stash away a key weapon for safekeeping, until the time would come that he would be needed.
DRANOSH: o today the demons cracked Malchezaar out of storage to bring them here…
NEERU: <smirks at Garrosh and chuckles> I wish you could have seen the look on your face when—
DRANOSH: <shaking Neeru violently> I would be a little more worried about the look on you face when I cut off your head and stick it on a pike, Fireblade!
NEERU: Do you wish to, Warchief? Then by all means. I had no delusions that I would escape this endeavor alive. But I believe. Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter if you kill me. I’ve lived long enough to see Orgrimmar burn.
Dranosh loosens his grip on Neeru and stares over the warlock’s shoulder at Orgrimmar.
DRANOSH: You’re forgetting something, Neeru.
Neeru arches an eyebrow quizzically.
Orgrimmar is behind you.
Dranosh draws his sword and runs it through Neeru.
You haven’t seen anything.
Neeru seizes up, then goes limp on the sword. Dranosh extends his blade over the deck railing, then shakes off the body, letting it plummet to the rocks below.
GARROSH: <spitting over the side> Dismissed.
Dranosh stands at the railing, looking down, then looks back at Orgrimmar.
DRANOSH: I should have caught what they were doing. This should never have happened.
Garrosh stands next to Dranosh.
GARROSH: You’re part right. This shouldn’t ever have happened. <looks at Mokvar, then back> What if we could fix it?
DRANOSH: Yeah, sure, we’ll just rewind time and take it all back.
MOKVAR: Not exactly.
GARROSH: Look…what I have in mind isn’t a sure thing by any means, and I’m not even sure exactly how to do it myself. But I think I can find out. And if it works…well, things won’t be perfect. Like, at all. But the demons won’t be running roughshod over the world, and the Scourge will be under control.
DRANOSH: Sounds pretty perfect to me. You sure you haven’t been dipping into the felweed again?
GARROSH: I’m serious. It won’t be easy, even if we can do it at all. And…I don’t know if we’ll all make it through alive. In fact…I’m pretty sure we won’t.
DRANOSH: But Orgrimmar, our people – they do?
GARROSH: I think so, yeah. If what I’m thinking works.
DRANOSH: <nods slowly> If that ends up being the cost… A mediocre Warchief is a small price to pay for the survival of the Horde, don’t you think?
GARROSH: I don’t know. I’ve only seen great ones.
DRANOSH: What do we do?
GARROSH: First I need information. <thinks for a minute> And before we get too far along to Theramore, I need to make a quick side a trip to Ashenvale.
DRANOSH: What’s in Ashenvale?
GARROSH: An old friend.
Oh yeah. Shit just got real.
Monday mailbag
Before I get to the mail, I just wanted to mention the results are in for this latest round of You Choose the Next EPIC VERSE. I’m working on the latest masterpiece now and I’m going to try to have it posted this week, so stay tuned!
Now for the letters. Just a semi-quick mailbag this week, but a couple doozies…
About a month ago A Concerned Citizen wrote in to complain about the mistreatment of a Hippogryph he had received by post. Unfortunately, I don’t think this was an isolated incident — in fact, there may be a serious problem. Last week I received a similar crate in the mail. There were postmarks from at least 20 different places and it must have been in transit for weeks. The crate was emitting a terrible stench, but I braced myself and pryed it open anyway. As I feared, the poor wyvern was long deceased, its corpse in an advanced state of decay. It was the most appalling and enraging thing I have ever had the misfortune to see first hand. I cannot imagine the suffering of that poor creature as it was shunted from one place to another.
I stood stunned for a moment in shock and horror, (and was seriously considering joining DEHTA myself), when suddenly the most amazing thing happened — I felt something nuzzle my hand. I nearly jumped out of my skin! It was then that I realised there WAS something in that crate! A ghostly wyvern stood in the box, so translucent to be nearly invisible. Thing is, despite being incorporeal he can still interact with the physical world to some extent, so he can be petted, confined to a padlock, and even ridden just like a normal wyvern! I’m not sure how this is possible, but I think it might be because the poor beast doesn’t realise he’s dead. (For instance, he still likes me to feed him wyvern chow. He doesn’t actually consume it, but he makes eating motions around it and seems satisfied afterward. To save on gold I found a bunch of kibble-shaped rocks and put those in his dish and he doesn’t seem to have noticed the difference.) It’s taking a while to get used to flying around on a mount that is, for all practical intents and purposes, invisible. However, it sure is fun to watch all the jaws dropping as I fly by!
But the reason I write you, Warchief, is that I don’t think this is an isolated incident. Over the past week I’ve seen other people seemingly flying around without a mount. It’s hard to tell for sure, but I think people all over Azeroth are receiving deceased mounts in the mail. I even think I caught a glimpse of a spectral gryphon flying past me yesterday! I’m not sure what’s going on, but if members of both the Horde and the Alliance are getting dead mounts delivered to them, perhaps there has been a severe breakdown in our postal service worldwide! I know that wyverns have a place in your heart, so I thought you might want to look into this matter and perhaps prevent the further suffering of these noble creatures.
Respectfully yours,
–Kashina.
PS: I’m attaching a photo of my poor deceased wyvern. I hope he shows up well enough on that background.
This…just…wow. I mean I know I was never on particularly good terms with old Antlers McBeardyface, but even for him, this is just…yeah, that’s just sick.
What’s just as bad is that APPARENTLY our old friend Lather-on-us up in DEHTA-land couldn’t be bothered to do anything about this, even after ACC’s original letter last month, but spirits forbid I make a passing reference to browsing in a store for a leather jacket, cause then I get a dozen granola-crunchy druids picketing outside Grommash Hold and starting letter-writing campaigns and throwing buckets of fucking blood at me.
But yeah, enough is enough with this shit. I still can’t figure out how these people got it into their heads that sending mounts in the mail was any kind of good idea, but whatever. It’s time to start cracking down. So for starters, effective immediately, I’m going to start tightening up security in all our wyvern breeding grounds. Overlord Cliffwalker’s been doing a good job clamping down on the Grimtotem up in Stonetalon, so I’ll see about him assigning some more patrols for the wyverns nests there, and I’m pretty sure we can shift some troops over to Highperch in Thousand Needles now that the Twilight’s Hammer isn’t nearly so active down there.
Meanwhile, obviously if we mean business doing something about some brainstorm sending dead wyverns and gryphons C.O.D., I figure we’re going to need a point person to coordinate things. So, consider yourself volunteered, Kashina. I’m appointing you Commissioner of Stop Being a Complete Douche-Tard. Grats. And yes, Antlers, we’re talking to you.
Recently I was doing some errands for the Violet Eye – sweeping ghosts out of the ruins of Karazhan and suchlike – when I killed a big ol’ demon and discovered he had your axe in his pockets. Do you want it back? What’s Prince Malchezaar doing with Gorehowl anyway?
Regards,
–Elder Ciaroscuro (not a Lunar Festival Elder)
Hoo boy. Here we go again.
Yeah, if you could send that back here, Ciaroscuro (and by the way that was a BASTARD to type), that would be great. There’s been some really weird magical bullshit going on with that axe for a while. I’ll try to explain what I can.
So after my father Grom killed Mannoroth, and lost his own life in the process, the explosion that burst out of Mannoroth’s body sent the axe flying and embedded the blade into the nearby rocks. It got flung into the rocks with so much force that even Mr. OMG I’M SO AWESOME LOOK AT ME Thrall apparently couldn’t pull it out, either that or it didn’t even occur to him to look around for it, either then OR when he went back to put up Grom’s memorial, because I can’t think of a third option as to why Thrall would ever FUCKING EVER come back without Grom’s axe.
Some point later, Malchezaar came to Azeroth and turned up in Demon Fall Canyon. None of the other lesser demons there had ever been able to yank to axe out of the rocks, and they generally kept their distance, seeing as having the axe that killed their head honcho right there was probably kind of creepy. But, Malchezaar figured it would be a pretty good trophy for him to pick up for that very reason, and so after some doing he managed to yank it out of the stone. Apparently, by the way, he made a big deal about the fact that he was the one that managed to pull the axe out, and how that was an omen that he was destined for greatness and to be king of the demons and what-have-you, and by the way THAT’S when he started calling himself PRINCE Malchezaar, pretentious fucker.
So anyway, he heads off to Karazhan to take up shop. Only that top level of Karazhan where he hung out was in some weird kind of pocket dimension thingy, like the very top of the tower was poking into someplace called Netherspace, sort of dipping into the Twisted Nether but not quite, or some weird shit like that. I’m not too clear on the nuts and bolts of it. But, point is, it’s this strange little pocket of time and space where…well…time and space don’t quite work the normal way. And that’s where we get into the deal with Gorehowl.
So, Malchezaar had Gorehowl, right? And at some point some Horde adventurers went in there and handed him his ass, and got Gorehowl from his body, and somehow or other it found its way back to Thrall, who gave it to me. So far so good. But every so often, the freaky bizarro zone up there kicks in, and sets off some kind of a time loop. So all of a sudden, Mechazzar is up and kicking again, and he’s got Gorehowl back on him, and what do you know, poof, wherever Gorehowl WAS, it’s not there anymore. Because it got time-loop-reset back up to Prince Fancypants up there in Karazhan.
I once tried to ask Nozdormu how this whole time loopy thing could even be possible, and he rambled on at like 90 miles an hour, and just shrugged and said “wibbly wobbly, timey whimy” and looked at me like I just asked why water was wet. So no help there.
So anyway…yeah. Every so often, the axe goes poof on me, and I end up having to send a group up to Karazhan to get it back again. Which, let me tell you, is a huge pain in the ass. I’m just dreading the day when Malchezaar’s little time loop thingy resets while I’m actually in the MIDDLE of battle somewhere, and have my damn axe vanish on me mid-swing. I have to remember to start bringing a backup, actually.
On a completely separate note, I just got my first application for the new Earth Online guild, <Warchief>. Let’s have a look at our new aspiring member…
Character Name:
£õk†årøgâr
Class and Level:
Stock Broker
Talent Spec (please discuss any unusual talent choices):
0/0/41 Execution/Advisory/Discretionary Was execution but fuck that shit u gots no power and kill nothing. vry misleading name, discertionary do it all
What do you enjoy most about your class?
money money money buy the best toys and other class beg 4 help n buffs
Previous guilds and why you left:
Scum of the Earth, guild leader give his girl all the phat lootz n she like cant play so drama killed that one
Something Wicked, kicked from this one dunno why
High Finance, cant take a fkn joke. long story.
Previous raiding experience:
yes
Any time restrictions that might affect your raid availability:
i haveto be in bed by 11
Um…okay.
Actually, no, not okay.
First of all, I’m going to try not to dwell on the crazy letters in his name, but…yeah. Look, dude, you’re really overestimating how hard I’m willing to work to contact you in-game or send you a guild invite. If I can’t just fucking TYPE your name, then the odds of me sending you a whisper or an invite or whatever drops way, way down. I don’t speak alt-code.
Also…um…
You know what, I’m not even going to try to go through point for point and break down the problems with this guy. Not even the retard leet-speak. Reading it once had made my head hurt enough as it is. So I’m just going to make an executive decision and say, oops, sorry, turns out our raids all START at 11:00, so I guess that rules us out. Good luck in your search…um…Guy Whose Asshat Name I’m Not Even Going to Try to Transliterate.
