Tag Archives: lantresor
Return engagement
We just arrived back in Pandaria. Finally. Granted, we couldn’t get here without a heaping pile of stupid washing up on deck during the trip, because, you know, IT’S US, but whatever. At least we got some decent seafood out of the deal. Plus the Wonder Twins are on notice that I’ll put them on patrol IN THE OCEAN around the base if they get on my nerves too much, and when I say that, it’s not just talk. AS IF THERE SHOULD BE ANY DOUBT TO BEGIN WITH.
General Nazgrim has been holding down the fort at Domination Point while I’ve been away, and, you know, since it’s pretty hard to crash a FORT into anything, everything seems to have gone fairly well. Well, unless you count the asshattery with the genius maneuver Nazgrim and some of his people tried pulling up at the Isle of Giants, but I’ll deal with that soon enough. The less we talk about that, the better. Mainly because the less we talk about it, the less I’m reminded of the crashing stupidity of a depressing percentage of my minions, and the less I’m reminded of that, the less I’m going to feel the urge to drive an Unnecessary Ornamental Spike™ through my skull.
Hey, look, 200 gold is 200 gold. You fuckers have to stop clutching your damn pearls over this. COMMERCE, MOTHERFUCKERS.
While we were away, Elder Cloudfall — you know, the old (hence “Elder,” DUH) panda dude who’s been varying degrees of helpful with the cryptic — took off back to his monastery. (I mean, anybody who thought he was just going to sit around Domination Point all that time NOT stuffing his face on familiar panda fare, take a step forward. Then take another step forward. Then keep taking steps forward until you walk into something sharp.) (MIGHT I RECOMMEND AN UNNECESSARY ORNAMENTAL SPIKE™?)
Cloudfall’s crazy-ass monkey friend Zhi-Zhi, though, decided to stick around the base. I guess he knew Tak-Tak or something (no, not Tak — Tak-Tak, and FUCKING HELL don’t make me go through THAT annoying shitpile again), so he figured he felt well enough at home to save himself the trip back to Tian Monastery and just stayed around the base helping out with odd jobs. I mean, I guess he couldn’t be any worse than some of the OTHER jokers I have on payroll.
Actually, is HE on payroll now? Is Nazgrim actually cutting a check to that fucker? How much? What’s the going rate for monkey labor? Can we pay him in bananas or some shit? I need to know these things.
It’s going to take a few days for me to get fully updated from Nazgrim, Blood Guard Gro’tash, the rest of the command and support staff here. Plus I need to get Mokvar acclimated to the place, seeing as he’s new to Pandaria. Also Brolic, a blademaster Lantresor recommended as an addition to my personal guard. He seems like he’ll be a valuable addition, but since he’s still new, I’d just as soon not assign him right off to work with the trainees the way the last batch of blademasters — Burzum, Ishi, and Krimpatul — did when they were here. For the time being, I’m having the DPS kids join Marksman Shokia and Shademaster Kiryn when they go out on patrol. Fairly controlled situation, watchful eye of two of our better operatives down here, plus it’ll give the kids a chance to get some input from kind of a different perspective, seeing as Shokia is a hunter and Kiryn is a rogue. Neither of which is as awesome or glorious as being a warrior, granted, but, hey. More exposure is better than less exposure.
I mean, in terms of training. Not if you’re talking about, say, an ogre and a platekini. In that case, cover that shit up, dammit. People want to eat lunch sometime this week.
More soon.
Four Heads are (Slightly) Better than Two
You know, it’s a funny thing how sometimes, when you think you’ve reached a dead end, life ends up throwing you a bone. (Or maybe a mixed metaphor?) Ever since I looked in on Golmash — that worg that Ogunaro Wolfrunner reported showing some disturbing behavior (major undersell, by the way) — I’d been trying to research a few possible ideas involving shaman and warlock magic, but hadn’t been able to find anything. I felt like I’d run out of ideas.
That changed yesterday afternoon during a meeting between Garrosh, Lantresor, and a few others. Lantresor mentioned that he’d been accompanying Mogor the ogre down to Brackenwall Village every now and again, but Mogor (the ogre) had learned his way around well enough that he was going by himself to see Draz’Zilb.
That’s when it occurred to me that Draz’Zilb is pretty knowledgeable when it comes to shadow magic. Garrosh had brought him in on a project or two a while back, and he always seemed pretty sharp… you know, once you got past the evil. Then again, with my personal history, that’s something you learn to shrug off pretty quickly. Oh well.
I excused myself from the rest of the meeting so I could go look for Mogor. The ogre. Since I knew Garrosh had a security conference with Malkorok afterward, though, I sent for Taktani to cover for me with the notetaking. Granted, I don’t think Garrosh necessarily had anything he needed recorded in that particular meeting, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to leave Malkorok having to endure Tak’s, um, aggressive cheerfulness. And the hugs. No matter how much grouchier they made him. Which would only convince Tak that she needed to try harder to cheer Malkorok up. Now, sure, I wasn’t around to see any of this, but I can imagine it. And I do. Often. Whenever I’m having a bad day. It always puts a smile on my face. You should try it sometime.
I managed to track down Mogor just before he was about to leave for Dustwallow and convinced him to let me tag along. When we got there, Draz’Zilb set Mogor up with some sort of potion he’d been working on that restores a major chunk of Mogor’s intelligence. (I guess Mogor used to be a lot smarter. Don’t ask me what happened to him.) From what I gather, the effects of Draz’Zilb’s potion wear off after a matter of hours, which explains why Mogor’s been making a habit of going down there to see him.
An added benefit for me was that Mogor’s a shaman, and used to be a pretty good one, back before… you know… something happened to his head. Whatever it was. That meant he was able to join us in the conversation I was having with Draz’Zilb and actually contribute something from the shaman side of things. The whole thing had the added bonus of taking place in a remote location far removed from any prying eyes that might ordinarily be trying to peek in on business.
I won’t bore everyone with the details of the conversation. Lots of warlock and shaman shop talk. It ended up sounding pretty familiar, though, or at least reminiscent of some of that business Draz’Zilb was helping Garrosh deal with involving Magatha a couple years ago. Mogor was able to chip in a few odds and ends involving shaman incantations, particular some things he’d seen from some of the old orchish shamans back in the day. The end result of the discussion didn’t really tell me anything definite, but the more we talked, the more Draz’Zilb and Mogor were able to connect some dots from based on their experience, and what they had to say rang just true enough to make me think I may be on the right track.
I think I have a few avenues to take to try to follow up on this, mostly after we get back from Pandaria. The down side is that even if I’m thinking along the right lines, I don’t know how to test what I’m thinking, at least not without killing Golmash. Which I would imagine would defeat at least some of the point of the exercise. More importantly, though, if Golmash dies, I honestly don’t know what will happen. Or what we actually lose, or just how important the loss will be. But it has to be something important, because if I’m right, someone went to a lot of trouble and blurred a whole lot of lines. But I don’t know who, or when, or why. Part of me doesn’t even really want to find out.
Because here’s the gist of it. You remember when I said that the wolf’s growl sounded full, like there was more in there than even his voice could contain? If what I suspect is true, then I was more right then I realized. Only it’s not that there’s something more inside him. It’s that there’s someone.
I think Golmash is a soulstone.
Mokvar
“Contrary to popular belief, I can fix stupid.”
Learner’s permit
The last few days, I’ve been putting in some extra work with Gurtash on his melee skills. I even got Lantresor to come in, like I was thinking about the other day, but even that didn’t seem to move the needle very much. (Ol’ Lantresor was doing a pretty damn good job with the mentoring, though, even if the end results weren’t there. I might have to see about bringing him in to talk to the other trainees.)
It’s a weird thing, though. It’s not like the kid is uncoordinated… well, it’s not like he’s RIDICULOUSLY uncoordinated. Or just flat-out inept. He moves well, he’s got good hand-eye coordination, but any time he tries sparring, within a few moves he ends up backed into a corner, like he’s playing catch-up. It’s as if he gets caught up too much in his own head and can’t keep up with the fight.
I’m starting to think the kid’s just putting too much pressure on himself when he knows he’s being observed. Like, he knows Lantresor and I are watching his moves, so he gets so focused on putting on a good show for US and not making any mistakes, he winds up not paying enough attention to what he’s DOING. You know how it goes — anytime you get all caught up in not doing anything wrong, you just wind up tensing up so much that you make mistakes you never would ordinarily. Anyhow, that’s what I think might be going on with Gurtash. It’s dumb, I know, seeing as the whole point of the exercise was for Lantresor and I to HELP him, but that’s kids for you.
Anyway, while Gurtash’s combat development has been kind of stuck in neutral, he HAS been making some pretty steady progress on a different learning curve. Ever since I showed him Grimjaw — that young wolf that Ogunaro Wolfrunner donated for Horde service — he’s been heading over to the stables every chance he’s gotten to see the little furball. The two of them seemed to bond pretty quickly, so I went ahead and set Gurtash up to start his riding training with Kildar over at the Hunters’ Hall. He’s been working on it for the last few days and seems to be taking to it pretty quickly. As it happens, that also means the kid’s been able to see Ogunaro himself while he’s been over there, and let him see that Grimjaw’s doing well.
From what I can gather, the riding training is coming along well enough. No major snafus, at least. Gurtash has been taking Grimjaw for short practice rides around Orgrimmar when Kildan and the Kor’kron stable masters have had a free window to clear it. Sometimes a pass around Durotar when there’s time for a prolonged run. Seems to be good for the kid. Takes his mind off his other training problems and anything else he’s been carrying around lately.
As for those other training issues, I think I’ve got an idea. Stay tuned.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Horde Iron Chef (part 2)
[This is usually the part where a writer would try to build in some catch-up exposition for the benefit of anyone who missed the first part, but you know what? Screw it. If you’re here at all, you’re probably on board with the idea of continuity. Nobody’s fault but your own if you’re confused! Moving on!]
LIADRIN: I wouldn’t mind trying some of that myself, Warchief.
GARROSH: Coming up.
LIADRIN: Would you like some, Salandria?
SALANDRIA: That’s okay. You can be the guinea pig for now.
While Garrosh serves up a bowl of noodles to Liadrin, Korrina and Kulkesh enter.
RUEKIE: Hi guys!
KORRINA: Hey.
KULKESH: Greetings, Captain. It’s–
Kulkesh trails off as Garrosh turns to them. He and Korrina stare for a moment.
KORRINA: Um.
KULKESH: Uh… that is… hi, sir. It’s… you really did get into the spirit of things, didn’t you, Captain…?
KORRINA: All I’m going to say is, um, you must be incredibly secure in yourself, sir…
GARROSH: Why is EVERYONE reacting like this?
SHAYARI: Would you like the reasons alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of how much they make me want to wear a bucket over my head for the next thousand years or so?
GARROSH: Okay, that’s it — NO NOODLES FOR YOU!
KULKESH: How are you feeling, Gurt?
GURTASH: Not bad. I mean, I’m still a little sore. And I’m still checking in with the healers every couple of days. But I’m pretty much recovered at this point.
KULKESH: Cool. You know, if you hadn’t come around soon, we were going to head over to Blackrock Spire and go dragon hunting ourselves.
KORRINA: Yeah, we were going to go all Wrathion on their asses.
GURTASH: Heh. I appreciate it, guys.
LIADRIN: I’m glad the healers are nearly done with your injuries, Gurtash. If you ever think it might help, I’m happy to cast a Flash of Light or two, although, granted, my areas of expertise are more in the realm of protection than healing.
MOKVAR: Too bad you weren’t with us in the Spire. We probably could have used a tank up there.
SHAYARI: Pip especially.
RUEKIE: Speaking of which, kind of, has anybody seen Mirembe?
KORRINA: She’s around here somewhere. We ran into her at one of the noodle stands.
KULKESH: I don’t know if she was going to stick around, though.
GURTASH: How come?
KORRINA: Oh, something about that Lantresor guy.
KULKESH: I think she ran into him while she was trying some food, and he made some comment about her weight, or something.
KORRINA: “Potbelly,” was it?
KULKESH: Yeah, I think so.
SHAYARI: Oh, spirits, THAT guy.
GURTASH: You know him?
SHAYARI: We’ve talked a couple times since he came to Orgrimmar. He’s a piece of work, let me tell you. Always going on and on about “oh, children of two worlds,” and “oh, we are alike, you and I,” and “you are not alone,” and “you are not alone,” and “ohh — did I mention? — you are not alone,” and I’m like, okay, I get it, I’m not alone, you’re making me wish I was, Professor YANA.
KORRINA: Old people are weird.
SALANDRIA: How old?
LIADRIN: Don’t start.
Ji enters, accompanied by Spazzle and Giska.
GARROSH: Ah, perfect, just the pudgeball I was looking for.
JI: Hello, Garrosh! Everyone!
SPAZZLE: Hey boss.
MOKVAR: Afternoon, Ji. Everything finally set up?
JI: Almost. Not quite. There’s an even better turnout than I’d expected!
SPAZZLE: Which means even more setup for us to do on the fly…
MOKVAR: How did he rope you into this anyway, Spaz?
GARROSH: Yeah, Pea Pod, I would’ve figured he’d have plenty of pandas to call in on this, seeing as, you know, this IS a panda festival.
JI: Oh, many of the Huojin have been busy working on the festival, sir. But they’ve mostly been cooking.
SPAZZLE: Which left plenty more setup work that Ji needed me to lend a hand with. At an hourly rate, anyway.
JI: Wait, you meant that? I thought you were joking!
SPAZZLE: Hey, I’ve got billing rules to follow! I’m in a union, you know!
MOKVAR: I thought it was a cartel.
SPAZZLE: We’re goblins! Same difference!
JI: But we’re friends!
SPAZZLE: Yeah, well, time is money, friend!
GARROSH: So listen, Deep Dish, you have somewhere I can set up? Probably with some space around it, for when people start flocking to get a taste of my stuff here.
Korrina, Gurtash, Kulkesh, and Giska all turn to look at Ruekie.
RUEKIE: <aside> I’m not saying anything!
KORRINA: <aside> You’re sure? You looked like you were about to say something.
RUEKIE: <aside> No no no, I’m keeping my mouth shut from now on! Every time I open my mouth, somebody sticks– hoooooo boy I almost did it again! Whew!
JI: Well, Garrosh… hmm. I still need to set up a few stations, but…
GARROSH: <pointing> What about right over here? Looks like you’ve got a couple spots.
JI: Well, yes, one of those is reserved, but I suppose you can take the other. Do you need a hand setting up?
GARROSH: Pfft, what’s there to set up?
Garrosh drops his pot on the table with a heavy thud.
OH HEY, we’ve got a cooking fire here and everything.
JI: Oh yes, several of the stations have them. Many of our participants are cooking right here on the premises!
GARROSH: Ah, nice, this way I can whip up a little MORE of this stuff, seeing as we’re probably gonna go through it pretty quick, even before we figure in Mokvar’s little pink friend.
MOKVAR: Uh, yeah, sorry about that again.
GARROSH: Actually… here.
Garrosh reaches over to Mokvar and yanks a page from his pack, sending some of his inscription gear spilling to the ground.
MOKVAR: <gathering his belongings> You know you could have just asked.
GARROSH: <scribbling on the page> Yeah, yeah, boo hoo. You two, front and center.
Korrina and Kulkesh go to Garrosh.
KULKESH: Yes, sir!
GARROSH: Giska, you too.
Giska joins them.
I assume you’re done with her now, Lunchbox.
JI: Actually, Warchief, we still–
GARROSH: My trainee, your student, I outrank you, done, boom.
JI: Oh bother…
GARROSH: <handing the paper to Giska> Okay, you three. Zip over to the market by Grommash Hold and pick up the stuff on this list for me.
KULKESH: Yes, sir!
GISKA: <scanning the list> Uh, just one thing, Captain. This looks like a lot — what do we do for money?
GARROSH: You tell the vendors you’re there on orders of the Warchief, and boy this is a nice little shop you’ve got here, and it sure would be a goddamn shame if somebody went and got blood stains all over it.
KORRINA: <clapping once and rubbing her hands together> Talkin’ my language, sir. On it!
GARROSH: Okay. Off with the lot of you.
While Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh run off, Faranell enters, sporting a jaw that’s conspicuously mismatched with the rest of his face.
LIADRIN: Doctor! Good afternoon. You’re looking… um… well.
MOKVAR: Edwin! It’s good to see… see you… erm… you… Uh, yeah… so I guess we’ve both gone through some changes since last time I saw you, but…
SHAYARI: Difference is, Beardy, your changes get a lot less obvious once you dip into the back of your closet…
FARANELL: Ah, yes, the ideal person to comment on the current state of my appearance.
SHAYARI: Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to duck fast enough, Eddie!
GARROSH: Hey, Doc, you…
Garrosh stares at Faranell a moment.
Okay, so…
Garrosh stares a moment longer.
I know I might end up regretting I asked this, but…
FARANELL: It’s a loaner. I’m just using it while my regular jaw is in the shop.
GARROSH: I… see.
MOKVAR: Gotta say, Edwin, you Forsaken have a really weird way of life sometimes.
FARANELL: Fancy that, that a community of reanimated corpses might have certain oddities in their cultural norms.
MOKVAR: Uh… right.
SALANDRIA: Wait, his… his jaw is in the shop? Did I hear that right?
LIADRIN: Yes, Dr. Faranell had a bit of an incident involving his jaw.
FARANELL: Yes, much in the same sense that Theramore had something of an incident involving the Focusing Iris.
SALANDRIA: What happened?
GARROSH: Oh geez, here we go…
FARANELL: Mana bomb.
SALANDRIA: No, not that!
GARROSH: Oh for FUCK’S sake.
SALANDRIA: I know that part! I mean your jaw!
SHAYARI: Cue the QQ. Or, you know, Q^3.
FARANELL: Suffice to say that my freshly harvested and installed jaw suffered some structural damage when I attempted to dissuade my would-be erstwhile apprentice from racing after her newly discovered father to a ruined dragon’s lair.
SHAYARI: And you know, there isn’t one single part of that sentence that would be possible if any of us led normal lives.
FARANELL: And, incidentally, just to put the button on the whole sordid affair, I am still waiting for certain reimbursements to be made.
GARROSH: Oh, for fuck’s sake. I… okay, FINE. After we’re done with the whole noodle thing here, I’ll get your damn gold. Are you fucking HAPPY now?
FARANELL: Beside myself with delirium. Bear in mind, also, that in light of the time that’s passed, certain sums of interest have accrued.
GARROSH: Fucking hell, are you kidding me? INTEREST now?!
SPAZZLE: Hey, don’t look at me. He came up with that on his own.
GARROSH: Please don’t tell me you trudged out here just to be a pain in the ass over this.
FARANELL: Oh hardly.
GARROSH: Yeah, good.
FARANELL: I’m a mage. I can teleport. I didn’t have to trudge at all.
Speaking of trudging, Malkorok returns doing just that, with Garrosh’s extra pot of noodles still in hand.
SHAYARI: Anyhow, I don’t think Eddie popped over to join the party, Pops.
Malkorok approaches Garrosh’s station and drops his pot on the counter.
MALKOROK: <aside> I’ve spoken to the guards who were charged with overseeing this area.
MOKVAR: Well, if I remember right, undead don’t really have that much of a sense of taste, so…
GARROSH: <aside> Good. What did they have to say for themselves?
MALKOROK: <aside> Very little. I’ll speak to their widows tomorrow.
SALANDRIA: Oh wow, you can’t taste anything? That must suck.
GARROSH: <aside> Yeah, send them a ham or something.
FARANELL: Not quite. We Forsaken have a sense of taste, just a muted one. It’s why I typically favor spicy foods, since the stronger flavors are more perceptible.
GARROSH: Huh. Well, in that case, Doc, you’re probably gonna like these. <spoons out a serving from his pot> These ought to have enough of a kick that you should–
Garrosh starts to hand the bowl to Faranell; as he does, Deliana unstealths and grabs it from Garrosh’s hand.
DELIANA: Another helping? Don’t mind if I do!
Deliana stealths again and vanishes.
MALKOROK: What–?!
GARROSH: Um.
MOKVAR: Don’t look at me.
GARROSH: <spinning back to Malkorok> HEY, MALK, IT SURE WOULD BE AWESOME IF WE HAD A LITTLE SECURITY IN THE FUCKING CAPITAL CITY!
MALKOROK: <grumbling> Yes, sir… I’ll be back again…
Malkorok starts to storm off, passing Mokvar.
One day you’ll be called to account for your odious taste in friends, scribe.
MOKVAR: I don’t know where you got the idea we were friends.
Malkorok grumbles more and marches off.
GARROSH: Okay, well, I’ll hook you up with another serving in a second here, Doc…
FARANELL: No need, really. I’m mainly here for work reasons.
GARROSH: Work reasons? How?
MOKVAR: You’ve known him long enough that you should probably know better than to ask that question.
FARANELL: Research, and potential sample collection. I figured that at an event like this, someone was bound to produce something usefully toxic, just by the law of averages.
GARROSH: Ah.
JI: Oh, no, Dr. Edwin, I can assure you everyone here is being very careful with their food.
FARANELL: Yes, I suppose, but one can always hope.
Faranell reaches into his cloak and produces an empty vial.
Now don’t mind me; I’m just going to hover around a bit in case someone — cross fingers — turns green.
MOKVAR: Hmph. Or turns chalky white and drops dead?
FARANELL: Touche.
GARROSH: By the way, Lunchbox, are there any kind of prizes for this shindig? Any judges who’ll be coming around that I should be looking to impress and not at all threaten with physical violence, no not at all?
JI: No, sir, no prizes. The only competition in an event like this is with oneself!
GARROSH: Yeah, I should have figured you pandas would be a little too touchy-feely for a straight-up contest.
JI: Not so! The Noodle Festival is meant to be a day of community and sharing, yes, but there’s a long Pandaren tradition of competitive cooking as well!
MOKVAR: You guys really do take your food seriously, don’t you?
SPAZZLE: You wouldn’t have to ask that if you’d been with us shopping this morning.
LIADRIN: What kind of cooking contests do you have, Ji?
JI: Well, one of our most honored customs is… well, the name doesn’t quite translate precisely, but I suppose the nearest approximation would be… “Iron Chef.” It’s a competition in which challengers are given a secret ingredient without notice and must prepare a gourmet meal with it in a limited window of time.
SPAZZLE: That actually sounds kind of cool.
MOKVAR: Spazz, you live on cheap take-out.
SPAZZLE: I know, but this has a whole mad scientist angle that I can appreciate.
FARANELL: Indeed, not to mention that rushed food preparation leaves ample room for hazardous contaminants to come into play. Not that anyone would wish for such a terrible thing, of course.
JI: Based on how well the festival is being received, perhaps we could adapt the competition for the Horde as well!
MOKVAR: Sort of a Horde Iron Chef? Or… Iron Horde Chef? Or… I don’t know, something like that, I guess.
GARROSH: I don’t know about the contest, but fuck, I LOVE the ring of “Iron Horde” — that sounds fucking BADASS, dude.
SHAYARI: Maybe you should look into rebranding, Pops.
GARROSH: MAYBE I SHOULD.
Dontrag, Utvoch, and Taktani enter, carrying boxes.
Don’t think I won’t get right on that shit and…
Dontrag et al start putting their boxes down at the station next to Garrosh.
And…
UTVOCH: Greetings, Warchief!
GARROSH: <turns to Ji> You’re fucking kidding me, right?
TAKTANI: Ooh everybody’s here! And we get to be next to Mr. Warchief! This is going to be so fun! Yay!
GARROSH: Oh fuck me…
RUEKIE: <aside> Oh, sure, he says that and nobody bats an eye…
DONTRAG: A pleasure to see you as always, your supreme Warchieferousness, sir!
GARROSH: Maybe if I don’t make eye contact they’ll assume I don’t know they’re there…
UTVOCH: Sir?
TAKTANI: Mr. Warchief?
JI: Yes, sir. <turning to Dontrag and Utvoch> Well then, Utvoch… Dontrag…
DONTRAG: I’m Dontrag. He’s Utvoch.
UTVOCH: Oh man. I knew I should have brought the letter…
JI: Oh. Okay. Well, your cooking station is ready. I’m looking forward to finding out what you’re making for us!
DONTRAG: Yeah, so are we.
JI: Pardon?
UTVOCH: Well, we don’t really have a recipe that we’re using.
JI: Oh…?
MOKVAR: Uh oh…
DONTRAG: We don’t know any noodle recipes, so we figured we’d just grab a bunch of ingredients and see what we could come up with on the fly!
GARROSH: Yeah, I don’t see any way that this could go wrong…
FARANELL: Now now, let’s not be hasty. I may be about to hit pay dirt.
TAKTANI: Oh hiiiiii Dr. Zombie!
FARANELL: Oh dear.
TAKTANI: I’m super happy to see you again!
Shayari giggles.
MOKVAR: Wait, she knows Edwin?
LIADRIN: I believe she met him a time or two when I first accompanied Shayari to Orgrimmar.
MOKVAR: And I missed this?
SHAYARI: I might possibly have maybe brought her with me a couple weeks ago when I went to the Undercity for a mage lesson, too. Possibly.
GARROSH: Oh, yeah, piss off the creditor even more.
TAKTANI: It was fun! I like Zombie Town! It’s kind of stinky, but that’s okay — it’s like a big haunted house! BOO! Hee hee!
SHAYARI: Kind of like it’s Hallow’s End all the time, right, Tak?
TAKTANI: I knowwwwww!
FARANELL: Must you encourage her?
GARROSH: Right there with you, Doc…
TAKTANI: Ooh! Ooh! Do you do Hallow’s End costumes in Zombie Town, Dr. Zombie? What are you going to be this year??
FARANELL: Far, far, away, Dark Lady permitting.
TAKTANI: Oh. <scratches her head> I don’t know what that looks like, but I bet it’ll be fun!
SHAYARI: You’ll have to go with me again so you can see, Tak!
TAKTANI: Yay! I get to come visit again! Won’t that be fun, Dr. Zombie?
FARANELL: Oh yes. My heart is utterly overflowing with joy.
TAKTANI: Yay! Hee hee!
FARANELL: Or possibly infectious bile. It’s hard to tell. My heart hasn’t beaten in over a decade, after all.
TAKTANI: <blinks> Huh?
FARANELL: Nothing to trouble yourself over. Just think of my heart as you would, say, your brain.
GARROSH: Lot of that going around with this crew, Doc.
DONTRAG: I don’t get it.
GARROSH: Case in point.
FARANELL: Indeed.
Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh return with several large packages, which they put down at Garrosh’s station.
KULKESH: Good news, sir — Olvia just got some fresh talbuk steaks in.
GARROSH: <sorting through packages> Good deal. You kids get everything?
KORRINA: I think so, Captain. The vendors kind of fumbled their way through the whole order.
GISKA: Maybe next time don’t start breaking fingers right away?
KORRINA: Maybe next time mofos don’t get lippy.
GARROSH: Yeah, well, here, now that you’ve all earned your keep, have some grub.
Garrosh passes bowls of noodles to Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh.
GISKA: Thanks, Captain!
KULKESH: Smells good, sir.
LIADRIN: I must say, Garrosh, I’m surprised — these are quite good.
GARROSH: Why is everyone always shocked out of their minds any time they find out I can do something other than punch people and scratch my ass?
MOKVAR: To be fair, you don’t exactly project complexity…
LIADRIN: You said these were a family recipe, Warchief?
GISKA: They’re not bad, Captain.
GARROSH: Kind of. I sort of improvised around something Greatmother used to make back in Nagrand.
LIADRIN: Did she teach you?
GARROSH: Not really, I just — what’s with you, Korrina? Something wrong with your food?
KORRINA: Uh, not really, sir. <poking awkwardly at her noodles with chopsticks> I mean, they look good, and they smell good… I’ll let you know how they taste once I figure out how to use these damn things.
KULKESH: They’re a little awkward at first, yeah, but they’re not so bad once you get used to them.
SHAYARI: <reaching back and adjusting the chopsticks in her hair> Oh, hey, is that what these things are supposed to be for? I was wondering why they were giving them out.
Korrina starts to pick up some noodles with her chopsticks, only to have them slip loose and drop back into her bowl.
KORRINA: Ugh — yeah, this isn’t so bad at all…
GISKA: No no, try like this… see, you keep one of them balanced against your thumb, and…
Korrina takes another stab at her food with the chopsticks, but loses her grip, sending one chopstick — and most of the noodles she was picking up — spilling onto the ground.
KORRINA: Dammit! <throws her other chopstick down> Oh hell with it…
Korrina reaches over to Ruekie and snaps one of the ornamental forks off of her shoulder guards, then uses it to pick up some noodles.
RUEKIE: Hey!
KORRINA: There.
RUEKIE: Aw, man…
DONTRAG: Uh, Ut, what did you put into those?
UTVOCH: Huh? I didn’t put anything. I just cooked the noodles.
DONTRAG: But they’re all gooey or something.
TAKTANI: That was me, Mr. D!
UTVOCH: You added something? What did you put in there?
TAKTANI: Cheese!
DONTRAG: Wait, what? Cheese doesn’t… I mean, how does that even work?
TAKTANI: <blinks> Um… I like cheese!
UTVOCH: You know, this doesn’t smell half bad…
TAKTANI: So noodles are good, and cheese is good, so now they can all be good together!
DONTRAG: Tak, you can’t just… I mean, who puts cheese in noodles?
TAKTANI: I’d take it out if you want, Mr. D, but it’s all melty now!
UTVOCH: It actually smells pretty good…
DONTRAG: Noodles and cheese? Really?
UTVOCH: <eating some of the noodles> Donty, seriously, try some of this…
TAKTANI: Do you like it? Yay!
KULKESH: Hey, you know, that does smell pretty good over there…
While Kulkesh, Korrina, and Giska make their way over to Dontrag and Utvoch’s station, Malkorok returns.
MALKOROK: I’ve put additional patrols around the gates, Warchief. It would of course be easier if so many of these… people… weren’t wandering around, but it should suffice for now.
GARROSH: Yeah, well, we can’t exactly barricade off half the city.
MALKOROK: Yes, sir.
KULKESH: Oh wow, this really does taste good!
GISKA: Noodles and cheese — who would’ve guessed?
Ji leans over Dontrag, Utvoch, and Taktani’s pot while Gurtash, Ruekie, and Salandria gather around.
JI: <sniffing> Ooh, a triumphant culinary experiment, I see! Don’t mind if I try some myself…
Ji reaches over Dontrag’s shoulder and scoops some noodles into his (cartoonishly oversized) bowl.
GARROSH: What the… does that crap even have any damn MEAT in it?
TAKTANI: Oh don’t worry, Mr. Warchief! Nobody had to hurt any poor animals for this!
GARROSH: For fuck’s sake, the murder’s the tastiest part!
MOKVAR: I don’t know, boss, looks like they’re starting to draw a following.
Spazzle eyes the passersby who have started to gather around D&U&T’s station, then leans up to try to peek in their pot.
SPAZZLE: Huh… Uh, Tak?
TAKTANI: Hi, Mr. Goblin!
SPAZZLE: Uh, yeah, hi. So… what kind of cheese did you put in there?
TAKTANI: Oh, nothing fancy, Mr. Goblin. Just regular old cheddar!
SPAZZLE: Huh… that stuff barely costs a few silver…
TAKTANI: We could use another kind if you’d like it more!
SPAZZLE: No, it’s not that, just… Uh, Utvoch? Aren’t those noodles the kind they have in those little packets from Pandaria?
UTVOCH: Oh, yeah, that’s why I got them. They’re crazy cheap — they’re only something like eight copper a pack, so you can get a ton of them and barely spend anything.
SPAZZLE: Yeah, uh, that’s what I thought.
Spazzle looks at the growing line, then thinks a moment.
So… how would you guys feel about a business venture…?
UTVOCH: Uh… maybe?
GARROSH: Okay, fuck it, I have to see what the big fucking deal is with this crap.
Garrosh shoves Utvoch out of the way and scoops some of the noodles and cheese into a bowl.
It doesn’t even SMELL like anything special, I don’t know why there’s people coming out of the damn woodwork to–
Deliana unstealths and lifts the bowl out of Garrosh’s hands.
DELIANA: Oh, you need a taste tester? Sure thing, Garry!
Deliana stealths again and disappears.
GARROSH: <spinning back to Malkorok> WHAT AM I PAYING YOU FOR?!
So, you know. That went about as well as anything else I fucking try to do around here. I really might have to look into that “Iron Horde” thing, though. It seriously does sound fucking badass.
More soon.
Training wheels
So now that Gurtash is up and about again — mostly — I can finally stop worrying about WHETHER he’s waking up, and get back to a few pieces of business involving him that have been on the shelf for a while now. Side note, by the way — I don’t know who was more relieved when the kid finally came around, me or the healers I had working on him. I might possibly have said something that left them with the impression that if Gurtash didn’t recover, they might be staring down the barrel of a “physician, heal thyself” type of situation, promptly followed by a “dead man, bury thyself” type of situation.
Anyhow, moot point, now that the kid is awake and mostly mended. The healers tell me he’s going to need a little more recovery time, but that doesn’t have to stop me from doing some planning for his training regimen going forward. Because obviously, the fact that he wound up where he was means I haven’t been doing a good enough job whipping him into shape with the warrioring. Which is kind of strange, seeing as I was giving him combat pointers, off and on, before the trainee program even started, and yet, somehow, he’s ended up being less advanced than a bunch of the other kids. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like he’s got no skills whatsoever — he’s got some pretty good aim when it comes to precision strikes, which lots of people struggle with early on, and he moves around well in combat. Generally. When he’s not, you know, getting blindsided by spectral spook dudes. But, speaking of that, he also has all kinds of problems keeping his guard up, and…well, a bunch of issues.
Meanwhile, we have other trainees in his unit who’ve come a lot further a lot faster. I’m not even going to count Korrina, because hell, she comes from the fucking Saurfang family tree, and let’s face it, good luck to the first lumberjack who to get any bright ideas about THAT tree, because the tree would take one chop the lumberjack and then cleave his fucking head clean OFF. With a branch. Which would also somehow be an axe.
So, yeah, not even counting Korrina. But then you’ve got kids like Kulkesh, who’s been shaping up really well with the dual wielding — which served me pretty damn well back in the day before I had Gorehowl passed to me — and even Mirembe, who’s been bouncing around on training assignments since she wasn’t able to come to Pandaria, and seems to embracing the whole shield-slam-tanky thing. Or even someone like Giska, who isn’t even a warrior but has some pretty good moves from her whole Kung-Fu-Panda monk business, and by the way I seriously need to get her to show me how to do that crazy knock-you-out-cold neck pinch thing.
Anyway, point being, I need to come up with something to do with the kid to get him caught up, so this stuff doesn’t keep happening. I might try talking to Lantresor while I’m at it, see if he’s got any suggestions for alternate training methods. He’s pretty seriously badass in his own right and he must have had to train a few apprentice blademasters in his day, so we’ll have to see.
But, there’s still time to worry about calling in Lantresor. I can start easing him back into training by myself the next few days, then go from there. For the time being, it’s just as well for me to lay off and let Gurtash get himself recovered. In the meantime, we were finally able to get around to one other bit of business that was on the shelf for too long.
Some of you might remember that a few weeks ago, one of our kennel masters here in Orgrimmar, Ogunaro Wolfrunner, wrote in to my mailbag and offered one of the wolves he’d been raising — a young worg named Grimjaw — to serve in the Kor’kron mounted forces. He’s a fine wolf. Strong and agile like Ogunaro promised. Still a little on the small side, but then he IS still pretty young, with some more growing to do. But that just puts him that much further ahead of the game.
I brought Gurtash down to the Kor’kron stables earlier today. What with the good job he’s done helping take care of Mortimer the last year or so, I told him, it made sense for him to have a mount of his own to take care of. He was going to be coming up on his riding training soon anyway, so I figured he might as well start right off with the worg he’d be riding for a while. A young one, barely past being a pup — not unlike the kid himself — that could grow with him. Hopefully for a good long while. Well, for however long worgs live, anyway.
I’d planned to give Grimjaw to Gurtash ever since Ogunaro offered him. Obviously, that plan ended up having a big monkey wrench thrown into it for a while, what with Gurtash’s whole fiasco up in Blackrock Spire. As it turns out, though, having the kid out of commission for a couple weeks might have been a blessing in disguise. The one thing I’d been concerned about with Gimjaw was whether he would take to Gurtash. Worgs are pretty strong-willed by nature, and even as a young one, Grimjaw was pretty strong and formidable. And seeing as Gurtash wasn’t exactly an experienced rider yet, it made sense to be a little wary about what would happen if Grimjaw was standoffish and Gurtash maybe tried to force himself on the wolf too much too soon. While Gurtash was out cold, though, I took the opportunity to try to stack the deck for him. After the first few days the kid was resting, I had the healers swap out one of his blankets. I took it over to the stables, and used it to line the bedding in Grimjaw’s stall. Every few days after that, when they changed Gurtash’s sheets, I did the same. Kept a fresh-ish blanket with Grimjaw. Let him pick up the kid’s scent.
It ended up paying off. When I brought Gurtash over to the stables, Grimjaw was napping on his pile of furs and blankets. When he woke up, he made his way over to Gurtash and started sniffing at him. He warmed right up to the kid and kept hovering around near him the whole time we were there. Well, the whole time I was there. After a little while, I needed to go to get to a meeting with Overlord Runthak. At that point, I was going to take Gurtash back over to the Valley of Wisdom to drop him off… only he was too busy playing around with Grimjaw to notice me trying to get his attention. So I figured I’d let him hang out there while I went to my meeting. It was a secure building, after all, with Kor’kron all over the place, so it’s not like he wouldn’t be safe enough by himself.
I was gone for a couple of hours. When I went back to pick him up, he was still at it with the wolf. This time they were running around together in the fenced-in pen they have out back, chasing each other in circles. Gurtash had managed to grab a pigskin somewhere, and every so often he’d toss it across the pen and let Grimjaw take off after it. He didn’t even notice I’d come back at first, so I just hung back and watched them for a little while.
When I finally rounded him up to head back to the Valley of Wisdom, he spent the whole walk over asking me about coming back to the stables tomorrow, and when he can get started on his riding training. Even when I tried to go over the plan for his return to combat training, the kid kept dragging it back to riding instead. Guess I can’t blame him. I dropped him off and checked in with the healers, then tried stopping by the orphanage to see about some other leftover business. Matron Battlewail wasn’t around, though, so I guess I’ll have to try again some other time.
Pretty good day overall, I gotta say. Pretty good.
More soon.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Monday mailbag
Okay, people, seems like Shay’s guest mailbag from last time went over pretty well, so who knows, maybe I’ll do that again every so often. Not even with Shay, necessarily, because i don’t know how keen she would be to do those on a regular basis — as it is, I had to offer her a shopping trip in Silvermoon to get her to do that one, and there’s no fucking WAY I can afford to keep slinging those around on a monthly basis or whatever. But maybe every so often I can rope someone else into doing one, if you people have anyone else you might have questions for.
More importantly for right now, though, you’ve got the main event back, so let’s see what you peeps have on your minds this time around.
In my attempt to offer what seemed to me to be good advice to your beautiful and talented daughter, I believe I have offended her (and possibly you).
This troubles me, and I wish to offer to meet at your convenience to offer my personal apologies. (Lyssa doesn’t want me to go, but I think it the only proper thing to do.)
If there is any other service I may perform for you, please let me know, and until we meet, I remain your faithful follower,
–Sintra E’Drien of the Horde
Evidently, what you people have on your minds is how you can be even more exhausting than usual.
And I mean… you know what? This is just a textbook example. Because, look, Sintra, I know you mean well here, and you think you’re doing the right thing, and you’re trying to be nice, and all kinds of good crap like that, but just… fuck, you people are just so fucking high maintenance. Let’s just… look, apology accepted, okay? We’re all good. Well, I’m good. You want to take it up with Shay, go nuts, but don’t feel like you have to update me every step of the way. And if she looks at you funny or says something that makes you think she maybe had a TONE, just… just roll with it, okay? Don’t feel like you need to file a petition with the local notary public to declare every third Tuesday after a harvest moon factional What Can I Do To Make It Up To You Shayari Day.
For fuck’s sake, dude, it just never fucking ends.
And speaking of things that never end…
Anar’alah! Greetings yet again, most noble Warchief of the Horde!
Many thanks for the response! I was most gratified to receive an opportunity to contact your daughter directly! Although, given her response, (and yours, now I come to think of it) I’m not sure she’s too anxious to go on that “friend-date” you mentioned, anytime soon. I wonder what the problem could be. Although it is wonderful to see that she’s settling in rather well. I have to admit, I hadn’t expected that. Somehow, I always saw Nagrand as one of the most luxurious and leisurely places that could ever be. But I guess that when you’re poor, you see things differently. Orgrimmar may not be the prettiest place in the world, but I’m probably correct in saying that Shay has more now than she once did, with her father being the Warchief and all. So, for now, that’s certainly enough.
As for your own response, I am not related to Tirion or this Grottee Metalbeard fellow. Whatever made you suggest such a thing!? Perhaps I should remind you that I am an elf and Tirion is a human. And no, I am not HALF an elf. I’ve looked it all up, and I can’t possibly have fel-tainted eyes with two pupils, one green and one slightly lighter green, long ears and eyebrows, a slim and elf-like figure and the ability to produce arcane magic without being taught if I was half-elf. So, I am not related to Highlord Fordring in any way. I think. As for Grottee Metalbeard, I don’t know who that is! It sounds very gnomish. Or goblin? One or the other, anyway. Nobody else could possibly have “Metalbeard” as a last name without being a gnome or a goblin. And, seriously, I may be slightly shorter than the average height of a Blood Elf, but if you’re suggesting that I’m related to one of THOSE things…oh, no! Oh, and if Grottee’s reading this, don’t take it the wrong way. I just don’t like gnomes or goblins. And if you’re one of those delivery guy goblins, no, I’m NOT fucking tipping you! And while we’re also on the topic, “hooked up and gave birth to this letter”? That sentence, I must say, really put a horrifying image into my head. I mean, even worse than the Thalassian Brandy strutting through Hearthglen provocatively image. Because at least she’s GOOD LOOKING, you know!? And wow, is she good looking. I mean, sometimes I still ask myself if it was a dream. It probably was. Ha, good luck hoping, Sarlin. But Tirion Fordring and a GNOME? Or a goblin or WHATEVER. I would respectfully request that, in future, you refrain from planting such a horrific image in my head again. I still haven’t a clue as to how you got the idea that we were related.
Now. I feel good that that’s off my chest.
Yes, Twitter’s character limit has been a burden for quite some time now. It’s hard to elaborate and emphasize the more important things, such as the war efforts, gnoll necromancers, magi with weird hats, stupid mages who think it’s okay to polymorph random strangers whenever they want (that was no reference to Shayari, by the way!) and Light only knows what else with that limit in the way. I thought there would be a way to break it. Click the button with -284 characters and hope it would send. Impossible. It seems we live in a world where the only way forward is brevity. How unfortunate, would you not agree?
Shayari also told me that she occasionally ports back and forth to the Undercity for mage training. Which, I mean, I’m not concerned about THAT or anything, but do you really think it’s a good idea to get her so close to the Banshee Queen? I mean, I don’t know if I’d made it at all obvious but I don’t trust that woman! I mean, hey, at least I didn’t just say “No, I don’t LIKE her, therefore nobody else will!” Besides, who actually DOES like Sylvanas? I just wonder if she’d be, you know, in a stable enviroment if she was practicing how to conjure a mana cake table and Sylvanas decided to walk in and freak out because look, it’s a Draenei. I mean, she’s already made it pretty obvious taht she doesn’t like YOU. Sylvanas, I mean. Just something for you to ponder on. Oh, and if you’re wondering, no, I haven’t had any real personal meetings with Sylvanas. There was one when I was pretty young, before I joined the Argent Dawn, but that was myself and a few other young soldiers. She just yelled at us for not killing enough humans. I got off lightly, I hadn’t killed one. Nonetheless, I worry. We had enough mayhem with the Lich King. And if my sources tell me correctly, you see little difference between her and the Lich King. I trust you to make the right decision with regards to the subject.
Oh, and before I finish up, I just have to point out that I noticed a certain Pandaren named Ben-Lin Cloudstrider is hosting anger management classes! I didn’t know that you were thinking about adopting! To be honest, I couldn’t even imagine you wanting to have children! Although I’m likely right in assuming that when Shayari finally came into your life, you realized just how much you were missing. Being a father must be the most wonderful feeling in all worlds, wouldn’t you agree? It’s a shame that you lost seventeen years of poor Shay’s life, but you can make up for that now. Are you planning on adopting a baby? Wouldn’t it be just fine, to raise a child from before they’re even a year old! Quite frankly, my girlfriend and I have had thoughts of adopting, ourselves. We just want to travel a little bit more before we do so. And we’re still trying to work out which, uh, race to adopt. I was thinking maybe a High Elf, since they’re respected by the Kal’dorei (my girlfriend’s a Night Elf) and I’m quite fond of little High Elves, too. But that’s aside the point. Are you adopting a little orc or a little troll? Maybe even a little Blood Elf? Ha, I jest. They’re truly insufferable as children.
Back to the anger management class. Is Ben-Lin still doing those? Not that I have a HUGE anger problem, only sometimes I can be irrationally irate when the sounds of birds and flapping wings and even trickling water or the wind rustling grass or twigs, just the happy old noises, decide to all sound on what is known as “the morning after the night before”. Which often includes a LOT of alcohol. Mostly mead, although I do have a Gilnean friend who supplies me with brandy occasionally. It’s rather a strong beverage, I must say. Still, it’s fine for any occasion where you just want to get pissed out of your brains. But anyway! Yes, the only downside to consuming so much alcohol is the “morning after the night before” effect which is a bi-daily event where every aspect of nature comes together and floats around my sore head shrieking with voices like nails across a shield. I mean, I don’t mind birds, but when they annoy me like that, they just HAVE to fucking die, you know what I mean? And that’s the benefit of having a bow. You don’t have to throw your sword and hope it doesn’t miss. I have to say, it’s a pretty great release of anger. You know that rage that simply cannot be repressed? Birds always seem to know when I experience it, because they glide well into firing range when I do. Keep hush on this, but once, I was aiming for an annoying bird and shot it in the wing, only to find it was actually a troll in bird form. There’s a little Cenarian Circle camp nearby, so I guessed he was from that. Don’t worry, he made it, and I don’t think he saw me either! So anyway, I’ve had to clean up bird corpses a lot recently, only I haven’t been great at cleaning up the evidence, so there’s a small pile of dead birds behind Mardenholde Keep. With some incinerated kittens, also. And even some penguins that appear to have their skulls bashed in. I guess this is soon going to be the place where people drag the corpses of dead animals that end up falling to the blade of hangovers. And look, don’t worry about sponsors. I can always get my girlfriend to sponsor me. Or Daria L’Rayne, if she’s willing. Oh, and if you’re a little concerned about Daria, regarding my letter to Shayari, don’t worry. She doesn’t have anger issues, she just gets a bit irratable, but only during the days she’s on duty. I guess being advisor is pretty stressful. Anyhow, if I was to drag her along, rest assured, she’d be totally sober. Maybe. I mean, is alcohol allowed at these places? If so, well, I could always bring along some ale or something.
And hey, even if I can’t take part in the session, can you PLEASE just all have another one anyway!? Like, seriously! Do you have any fucking idea how FUNNY that was!? I mean, look, I always knew that Tirion drank quite a bit but I never actually could make sense of those corpses until I read that! Although I was a little disheartened when I went to tell everybody and they all already knew. I was like “Where the fuck was I for the last however long this has been going on for”? And oh my LIGHT, what is Mylune’s problem! I thought she loved animals! I mean, I haven’t met her many times but she does seem quite…uh, cuddly? I mean, I like hugs but gee, I think I like breathing more. Oh, heh, and I mentioned Lor’Themar to Shay, too. Tell me, was his hair perfect that day, too? Huh. He always did seem pretty calm to me. Just prissy as fuck, you know?
And also, if I might recommend it, maybe host the next one in that big gladiator’s or trial’s ring you got going on in Orgrimmar? You know, just so anybody who wants to come by for the giggles can do so. Look, I’ll stop with this suggesting nonsense and outright say that I WILL PAY YOU to do another. Even though you’re probably rich out now what with being Warchief and all. Still. I mean, if it helps, I’ll send over 10,000 gold and it might even feed a village of hungry peons, or maybe be enough to invent an elixir that will give them a brain.
I seem to have covered everything I’ve been wishing to bring up with you. I do hope that you don’t find any of this to be too demanding. I expect you have other issues to deal with besides the worries of a young Paladin, such as very incriminating photoes of dancing trolls or something. As opposed to “not so incriminating photoes”. Or “just slightly incriminating photoes”. The fel was up with THAT guy?
Oh, I did have a question! But fear not, I will be brief. What the fuck is up with Bob? Who even IS that guy? And what is his fucking PROBLEM!? Gee, I mean, it’s pretty obvious he’s a troll and all (in EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD EVER) but whoa! I mean, c’mon. It’s not the just the harsh, real fact that he’s an asshole, but the more harrowing fact that he lacks a brain. The fuck. I mean, everybody KNOWS that the Lich King’s horse is “Invincible”. Invincible and INVISIBLE are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS! ARE YOU READING THIS, BOB!? YOU MIGHT LEARN A THING OR TWO! GRR, YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SO ANGRY.
Anyhow, I digress. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must replace this inkwell with a slightly larger one, since it only holds maybe just over half of the ink that I require to send out not just mailbag letters to the Horde’s Warchief, but also to stay in close contact with other friends and possibly relatives around Azeroth and Outland! It’s just rather a pain to refill it constantly.
Light’s blessing to you, noble Warchief of the Horde.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker
I mean.
I literally don’t know how she does it. All I know is that by the time this last letter from Sarlin reached me, it had a petition attached to it, signed by nine ink vendors from all around Azeroth, asking me to declare a state of emergency due to the looming ink shortage.
But… okay… hello again, Sarlin. I see you still… have a lot on your mind. Again. So, um…
Okay, you know what? Let me just try to cover as much of this as I can, so she’ll at least have less ammunition for the NEXT time. Here goes.
Many thanks for the response! I was most gratified to receive an opportunity to contact your daughter directly! Although, given her response, (and yours, now I come to think of it) I’m not sure she’s too anxious to go on that “friend-date” you mentioned, anytime soon. I wonder what the problem could be.
Well, don’t let me speak for Shay, but it might have something to do with her irrational fear of having all the oxygen around her soaked up by a gaping vacuum of words words words, then suffocating helplessly, unable to cry out for help, because there are no words fucking left.
Orgrimmar may not be the prettiest place in the world, but I’m probably correct in saying that Shay has more now than she once did, with her father being the Warchief and all. So, for now, that’s certainly enough.
Apparently she had to leave most of her stuff behind when she left Dalaran. So…she actually doesn’t have more than she ever did, I don’t think, but…she’s working on it. I mean working HARD. Like really, REALLY hard. Let me put this in context for you: one of the perks of being Warchief is an unlimited credit account. Last week I got a notice from the goblin credit bureau that I was approaching my limit. Apparently, to teenage girls, infinity isn’t an abstraction — it’s a challenge.
As for your own response, I am not related to Tirion or this Grottee Metalbeard fellow. Whatever made you suggest such a thing!?
What indeed, Garrosh thought, realizing he wasn’t even 10% of the way into this letter yet.
Perhaps I should remind you that I am an elf and Tirion is a human. And no, I am not HALF an elf. I’ve looked it all up, and I can’t possibly have fel-tainted eyes with two pupils, one green and one slightly lighter green, long ears and eyebrows, a slim and elf-like figure and the ability to produce arcane magic without being taught if I was half-elf. So, I am not related to Highlord Fordring in any way. I think.
Oh no, you are related to him. Maybe not by blood, but you’re related.
You may not be kin, but you’re sure as hell kindred.
As for Grottee Metalbeard, I don’t know who that is! It sounds very gnomish. Or goblin? One or the other, anyway. Nobody else could possibly have “Metalbeard” as a last name without being a gnome or a goblin. And, seriously, I may be slightly shorter than the average height of a Blood Elf, but if you’re suggesting that I’m related to one of THOSE things…oh, no!
You’re a very literal person, Sarlin, anyone ever tell you that?
Also, just FYI, I’d lay even odds that Spazzle is tracking back your IP address as we speak. So if you’ve never loaded had your inbox flooded from porn mailing lists focusing on the lurid antics of THOSE THINGS… well, you’re probably about to.
Oh, and if Grottee’s reading this, don’t take it the wrong way. I just don’t like gnomes or goblins.
I don’t see how he could possibly take that the wrong way.
And while we’re also on the topic, “hooked up and gave birth to this letter”? That sentence, I must say, really put a horrifying image into my head. I mean, even worse than the Thalassian Brandy strutting through Hearthglen provocatively image. Because at least she’s GOOD LOOKING, you know!? And wow, is she good looking. I mean, sometimes I still ask myself if it was a dream. It probably was. Ha, good luck hoping, Sarlin. But Tirion Fordring and a GNOME? Or a goblin or WHATEVER. I would respectfully request that, in future, you refrain from planting such a horrific image in my head again.
You know what? You really started to save it. You looked like you were going to pull it back for a minute there, but then, nope, veered right on back to Tirion.
And for those of you wondering what she’s talking about with the whole Thalassian Brandy thing — OTHER THAN THE OBVIOUS — here, I refer you to a related question that Sarlin asked me on Ask.fm a good long while back. (I may dig up a few of my more memorable questions from that site to toss up here one of these days, too…)
Yes, Twitter’s character limit has been a burden for quite some time now. It’s hard to elaborate and emphasize the more important things, such as the war efforts,
The war effort goes well so far, despite occasional tactical setbacks. The Alliance has bought itself time, but their end is inevitable. FYV (140 characters)
gnoll necromancers,
Whoa, when the hell did gnolls learn how to be necromancers? Couldn’t Kel’Thuzard have left well enough alone? (110 characters)
magi with weird hats,
Yo, Mok, check out the stupid hat on that mage. Wait, what? Whose mother-in-law? Damn, sorry, dude. (99 characters)
stupid mages who think it’s okay to polymorph random strangers whenever they want (that was no reference to Shayari, by the way!)
I’m sure it wasn’t a reference to Faranell either, right? Methinks she dost protest too much. (93 characters)
and Light only knows what else with that limit in the way. I thought there would be a way to break it. Click the button with -284 characters and hope it would send. Impossible. It seems we live in a world where the only way forward is brevity. How unfortunate, would you not agree?
Yeah, I think you’re hitting pay dirt there, Sarls. Don’t know how we’re gonna get by. (86 characters)
Shayari also told me that she occasionally ports back and forth to the Undercity for mage training. Which, I mean, I’m not concerned about THAT or anything, but do you really think it’s a good idea to get her so close to the Banshee Queen? I mean, I don’t know if I’d made it at all obvious but I don’t trust that woman!
I don’t trust Sylvanas so much as I trust Shay’s right hook. I’d refer you to Faranell if you have any reservations about that one.
I mean, hey, at least I didn’t just say “No, I don’t LIKE her, therefore nobody else will!” Besides, who actually DOES like Sylvanas?
To be fair, I’m not necessarily the guy who should be coming down on someone for a poor showing in popularity contests.
Oh, and if you’re wondering, no, I haven’t had any real personal meetings with Sylvanas. There was one when I was pretty young, before I joined the Argent Dawn, but that was myself and a few other young soldiers. She just yelled at us for not killing enough humans.
See, right there. You just made me like Sylvanas. THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS TOO MANY DEAD HUMANS. Way to undercut your own point like two sentences later, Sarls. At this rate, you still have time to undercut at least six or seven thousand more assertions before this letter is over.
Oh, and before I finish up, I just have to point out that I noticed a certain Pandaren named Ben-Lin Cloudstrider is hosting anger management classes!
Well, Ben-Lin mostly counsels people one-on-one these days. She tried to hold a group session, but the class…didn’t go so great. At least according to most people, Ben included. Faranell, for some reason, still goes on about how awesome it was, but who knows what that guy’s thinking most days. Anyway, I can’t say for sure that Ben’s stopped the classes altogether, but I only ever went to that one.
I didn’t know that you were thinking about adopting! To be honest, I couldn’t even imagine you wanting to have children! Although I’m likely right in assuming that when Shayari finally came into your life, you realized just how much you were missing.
Um, no, I think you’re getting the order of events mixed up. I would have cut you a little slack there if you’d been one of the people caught up in all the damn time travel crap a little while back, both rounds of it — and holy crap do I never want to get mixed up with THAT kind of shit again — but as far as I know, you were just hanging out in Hearthglen all safe and secure.
But, okay, so the adoption thing was this idea I got into my head to maybe adopt Gurtash. He’d been hanging around Grommash Hold pretty regularly by then, and I was starting to work with him as a trainee, and I figured he was an orphan and all, what with his father having been killed in the line of duty up in Northrend, so I figured it might be good for me to just take him in outright. That was before Orphan Matron Battlewail decided to get all antsy and insisted I do the anger management class, and…well, that just got us into a big mess of red tape.
Anyway, that all got put on the backburner with everything going on in Pandaria, and then Shay turning up, and then the whole Mokvar thing and…you know, I don’t even want to get into it. Let’s just keep moving.
Being a father must be the most wonderful feeling in all worlds, wouldn’t you agree? It’s a shame that you lost seventeen years of poor Shay’s life, but you can make up for that now. Are you planning on adopting a baby?
I… no, no, I was never looking at adopting a baby. No babies. I had one specific kid in mind. How the hell did you read up on the adoption thing and miss the part where I specified who I was going to be adopting?
Are you adopting a little orc or a little troll? Maybe even a little Blood Elf? Ha, I jest. They’re truly insufferable as children.
I have bad news for you if you think that that’s specific to blood elf children.
Back to the anger management class. Is Ben-Lin still doing those?
Asked and answered, your honor.
Not that I have a HUGE anger problem, only sometimes I can be irrationally irate when the sounds of birds and flapping wings and even trickling water or the wind rustling grass or twigs, just the happy old noises, decide to all sound on what is known as “the morning after the night before”. Which often includes a LOT of alcohol.
I’m not completely sure what the fuck you’re talking about, but i’m beginning to get a vague sense that you and Tirion mesh well up there in Hearthglen in a variety of ways.
Mostly mead, although I do have a Gilnean friend who supplies me with brandy occasionally.
Thalassian, by any chance?
But anyway! Yes, the only downside to consuming so much alcohol is the “morning after the night before” effect which is a bi-daily event where every aspect of nature comes together and floats around my sore head shrieking with voices like nails across a shield. I mean, I don’t mind birds, but when they annoy me like that, they just HAVE to fucking die, you know what I mean? And that’s the benefit of having a bow. You don’t have to throw your sword and hope it doesn’t miss. I have to say, it’s a pretty great release of anger. You know that rage that simply cannot be repressed? Birds always seem to know when I experience it, because they glide well into firing range when I do.
I’m just going to tuck this little snippet away for the next time someone gets pissy with me about being grouchy and hostile with people.
And then I’m going to back away very, very carefully.
Keep hush on this, but once, I was aiming for an annoying bird and shot it in the wing, only to find it was actually a troll in bird form.
Heh. Hehehe. HeheheHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA hahaha…ha… heh…
BWAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!! Heehee…
Okay… okay… moving on…
So anyway, I’ve had to clean up bird corpses a lot recently, only I haven’t been great at cleaning up the evidence, so there’s a small pile of dead birds behind Mardenholde Keep. With some incinerated kittens, also. And even some penguins that appear to have their skulls bashed in. I guess this is soon going to be the place where people drag the corpses of dead animals that end up falling to the blade of hangovers.
Is it bad that my first thought on reading that was that if, say, an anonymous note were to find its way to Mylune, directing her to go check out what’s behind Mardenholde Keep… oh man, the spectacle that might be to behold!
And hey, even if I can’t take part in the session, can you PLEASE just all have another one anyway!? Like, seriously! Do you have any fucking idea how FUNNY that was!? I mean, look, I always knew that Tirion drank quite a bit but I never actually could make sense of those corpses until I read that! Although I was a little disheartened when I went to tell everybody and they all already knew. I was like “Where the fuck was I for the last however long this has been going on for”? And oh my LIGHT, what is Mylune’s problem! I thought she loved animals! I mean, I haven’t met her many times but she does seem quite…uh, cuddly? I mean, I like hugs but gee, I think I like breathing more. Oh, heh, and I mentioned Lor’Themar to Shay, too. Tell me, was his hair perfect that day, too? Huh. He always did seem pretty calm to me. Just prissy as fuck, you know?
This has been an installment in the Last Year in Garrosh’s Life series. But, hey, as long as Sarlin is endorsing that little exercise in unanesthetized dental surgery, here, go back and relive all the fun.
And also, if I might recommend it, maybe host the next one in that big gladiator’s or trial’s ring you got going on in Orgrimmar? You know, just so anybody who wants to come by for the giggles can do so.
Yeah, I think someone already had that idea.
Look, I’ll stop with this suggesting nonsense and outright say that I WILL PAY YOU to do another. Even though you’re probably rich out now what with being Warchief and all. Still. I mean, if it helps, I’ll send over 10,000 gold and it might even feed a village of hungry peons, or maybe be enough to invent an elixir that will give them a brain.
<looks over bill from Shayari’s latest shopping trip>
I’m listening.
I swear, though, the way you’re going on about this is making me want to make this a Patreon perk for clearing some non-trivial threshold.
I seem to have covered everything I’ve been wishing to bring up with you.
OH THANK THE SPIRITS I THINK WE’RE COMING UP ON THE HOME FUCKING STRETCH
I do hope that you don’t find any of this to be too demanding.
I’ll let you know once I regain feeling in my left leg after stabbing it repeatedly to keep from losing consciousness every 37 words.
I expect you have other issues to deal with besides the worries of a young Paladin, such as very incriminating photoes of dancing trolls or something. As opposed to “not so incriminating photoes”. Or “just slightly incriminating photoes”. The fel was up with THAT guy?
It’s funny you should ask. “That guy” just had another message delivered by courier:
It has come to my attention that both yourself and your daughter have been subjected to interminable, inane babbling in letter form from a young blood elf paladin in the service of Tirion Fording. Having reviewed her messages, I wish to know: what on Azeroth is UP with this chick?
–A Humble Peon
I wish I fucking knew, AHP. I wish I fucking well knew.
Oh, I did have a question!
I swear, it’s like the letter equivalent of one of those Earth Online machinimas, where you keep thinking the serial killer is finally dead, and HE KEEPS GETTING BACK UP AND COMING AFTER YOU SOME MORE.
But fear not, I will be brief.
Lady, the train left that station somewhere in the middle of volume three.
What the fuck is up with Bob? Who even IS that guy? And what is his fucking PROBLEM!? Gee, I mean, it’s pretty obvious he’s a troll and all (in EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD EVER) but whoa! I mean, c’mon. It’s not the just the harsh, real fact that he’s an asshole, but the more harrowing fact that he lacks a brain. The fuck. I mean, everybody KNOWS that the Lich King’s horse is “Invincible”. Invincible and INVISIBLE are TWO DIFFERENT THINGS! ARE YOU READING THIS, BOB!? YOU MIGHT LEARN A THING OR TWO! GRR, YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SO ANGRY.
You know, I can’t believe she’s actually making me contemplate the phrase “worth the wait,” but if this is how she’s finishing up, I hate to say it, but it really might be. BECAUSE FUCK YOU, BOB. Troll? Check. Asshole? Check? GODDAMN FUCKING IDIOT? Hell yes and triple check. PREACH, SISTER, PREACH.
Anyhow, I digress. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must replace this inkwell with a slightly larger one, since it only holds maybe just over half of the ink that I require to send out not just mailbag letters to the Horde’s Warchief, but also to stay in close contact with other friends and possibly relatives around Azeroth and Outland! It’s just rather a pain to refill it constantly.
And look at that, two more signatures for that petition from the ink vendors.
Meanwhile, I just had another message come in by courier. Apparently the night elves are declaring war on Sarlin for the sheer number of forests she’s singlehandedly leveled in order to supply herself with enough paper for these letters. And I quote: “We feel we may have misjudged your Warsong clan in focusing the brunt of our ire on their logging activities; clearly we were overlooking the true, direr threat.”
Still, feel free to scrape a few more pages out of Ashenvale, if you ask me. Just make sure you scrape some of the glitter off those trees before you start pulping. Thalassian Brandi could probably use it.
Fucking hell, though. Okay, let’s see what else we’ve got.
Sir, if somehow somewhere the f-word was banned and a spell kept anyone and everyone (including you) from saying it, what would you do? Would you be able to carry on a conversation or get mad without ever saying it or would this cause a cataclysmic event of Garrosh proportions?
–Ruekie
PS: This goes for shit too. I mean the S- word!
Well, Rook, in the unlikely event that something like that ever happened, I suppose I would have to do the adult, responsible thing. Which means, of course, that I would hunt down the fucking fucknose motherfucker who cast that fucking spell, grab them by their fucking neck, then beat some goddamn fucking sense into their stupid fuckwit ass until they turned that motherfucking spell the fuck OFF. That’s what the fuck I’d do, dammit.
And shit piss fuck cunt cocksucker motherfucker tits, while we’re at it.
Censorship fucking sucks, kids. Fight the power.
Mogor glad you got people working on it. Elements still not happy, so Mogor hope they work fast. Still, Mogor happy to find other fun things. Lantresor not writing in this time. Lantresor say he has a “secret mission” to take care of. Mogor not get it, but Lantresor smart orc. He not in trouble.
Mogor write in to give you battle report. Mogor and some ogres of Burning Skull went south to swamp, hung out with Stonemaul ogres. Mogor met Draz’Zilb. Draz’Zilb so smart. He working on potion, will make Mogor smarter, stop heads arguing and big words confusing Mogor. Anyway, we hang out in swamp until funny pinkskins arrive, attack village. Mogor think Mogor saw green shirt with yellow anvil on pinkskins, but memory fuzzy. Draz’Zilb say they sent by the Allianz. More come, too many to fight all at once, but Mogor set trap in trees near village. Mogor and ogres climbed big tree and hung in branches; when pinkskins approached Mogor and ogres, we let go of branches, fall down on them. We got the drop on them, ha!
Draz’Zilb say he continue to work on potion and Mogor should write to tell you about attack. Draz’Zilb expect pinkskins come back with even more next time. Mogor disappointed; the Allianz tougher in Mogor’s younger days. Now they all numbers, no brains. Not like orcs. Not like ogres.
That all for now. Mogor see you next time.
–Mogor the Ogre
Oh, hey, Mogor. The Ogre.
Um.
…
Yeah, sorry, I needed to take a second to wonder what happened to my life that these are the conversations I end up having. Anyway.
So… yeah, it’s good that you got over your little elemental hissy fit. You keep on listening to Lantresor, Mogor. The…ogre. Or…or, yeah, better yet, keep hanging out down in Brackenwall Village. You’ll probably feel right at home there, what with all the other mogor–ogres. OGRES.
…
<sigh>
I swear there was a point in my life when it wasn’t a giant fucking cartoon.
Anyway, continuing on.
That’s good that you’re spending some time with Draz’Zilb down there. I haven’t talked to him in a while, but he was always pretty sharp, so he’s probably going to be able to help you with the– wait.
Hang on.
You mean to tell me… Draz’Zilb’s got a potion he can cook up…that makes a pair of bickering heads stop yammering, and shut up and get along, and stop being fucking stupid and confused all the time? DUDE ARE YOU TELLING ME THAT MOFO’S BEEN SITTING ON A FUCKING DONTRAG AND UTVOCH ANTIDOTE ALL THIS TIME AND HE HASN’T FUCKING TOLD ME???!! ARE YOU SHITTING ME??!!!
OKAY, so HERE’S what you’re gonna do, Mogor the ogre — you’re going to fucking FOLLOW Draz’Zilb’s ass around and stay after him until he whips up a GIANT SIZED dose of that potion of his, and then you’re going to get the BIGGEST FUCKING BARREL YOU CAN FIND, and LOAD IT UP WITH AS MUCH OF THAT POTION AS IT’LL HOLD, AND THEN YOU’RE GOING TO HIGH-TAIL IT BACK TO ORGRIMMAR WITH THAT SHIT. THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO FUCKING DO, MOGOR.
…
THE OGRE.
<sigh>
More soon. When I can stomach it.
[As always, keep those letters coming! Next mailbag November 2! E-mail the Warchief using the link at the top of the right sidebar, or use the handy form below:]
Monday GUEST mailbag: Shayari
Okay, so as I promised, since everybody’s been all curious about Shayari, today’s your chance to hear from her directly. Let me kick it over to her and see what you people have come up with. And whether I’m going to have to go out and crack a few skulls later.
Hi everyone! I’m still not sure how Pops convinced me to do this. This whole blog thing seems kind of lame to me, but I guess it couldn’t be any worse than Twitter.
Let’s see what everyone has to say!
I have hesitated long to write this, since it may seem presumptuous of me, but I ask you to take it that I mean this with the greatest respect.
You can certainly deal with undesired advances (being your father’s daughter), I would simply caution you in response to desired advances. It is not my business, nor do I especially desire to know with whom you might choose to be intimate, but you may trust this- intimacy is dangerous, and one who desires yours may be a deceiver, a flatterer, or one seeking to take advantage of you for your father’s sake.
It happened to me (long ago), and I would not see it happen to you if I can spare you such pain.
Also, I know it may be natural to want to rebel against your father, but he does care for you, and as Warchief, he is in a delicate position. He must balance many competing burdens, and anything you (and we who follow him) can do to reduce those burdens will only help him.
My apologies for the lengthy missive, and I offer you such friendship as I can, and whatever help or advice as you may want (even none, if I seem too much like a meddling old aunt).
–Sintra E’Drien (and her mate Lyssa Nightblossom)
Ps. If you ever happen to visit Nagrand, you might wish to consider visiting Garrosh’s Greatmother- I understand she makes delicious lemon-squares.
So, hang on a second… I don’t even know who you are, and you’re… um… did you really just come out of nowhere and start giving me advice about who I hook up with?
Who are you again?
And I mean, okay, yeah, Greatmother Geyah’s lemon squares, I get it, I know, I’ve heard about the lemon squares, I’ve been in Orgrimmar a few months and for real, spirits help me, every day with the lemon squares. To hear Pops talk about them, I should maybe go hook up with a tray of them, because, you know. I’ll have what he’s having. So I get it. The lemon squares. Even though lime would totally be better, but sure, you go, Greatmom Geyah. Or I guess Great-Greatmom Geyah, in my case? Except I guess she’s not even Pops’ actual greatmother, so I’m not even really related to her, so it doesn’t really matter what call her, so whatevs.
Who are you again? For real.
I mean, trust me, when Pops reads this letter, I’m pretty sure that’s going to push the ol’ enrage timer a lot more than anything I do, and that’s really kind of saying something, because some days I actually work on it. There are diagrams and everything. (I can’t help it — he just gets so wound up! It’s a real hoot sometimes.)
I tried asking your father this recently, but I didn’t expect to get the chance to ask you directly! You always seem so fashionable, what are your favorite places to shop? Anywhere you would recommend?
–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City
P.S. What’s the real story on your father’s love life? Any juicy details you can share? He’s usually pretty vague and evasive about it. You must know the real scoop! Inquiring minds want to know!
Okay, for real, are all these letters going to be about who’s doing who? Because I did not sign up for this. If I wanted a non-stop parade of gross and creepy questions that I can never un-read, I would get an Ask.fm account.
Plus it’s not like Pops gives me updates on whatever groupie he’s doing whatever with, which is probably just as well, because ew. Not enough therapy in the world. The last thing I need to think of is old people doing it. How am I supposed to eat dinner with that in my head? Ew and double ew.
But, as far as the shopping goes, now you’re talking my language! My favorite shop by far was Threads of Fate back in Dalaran. I used to have a little part-time job helping tend the shop on weekends, mostly so I could get the employee discount, and believe me, I used that perk up. When I realized I needed to get out of town, I definitely made a point of packing up as many ToF things as I could right off. It’s pretty much off limits now, though. Obviously. Screw Jaina.
It’s funny you’re asking about this, actually, since you live in Silvermoon. That’s probably my favorite place to go now! There are a couple good shops in the Bazaar: Silvermoon Finery and Keelen’s Trustworthy Tailoring. Finery is the more upscale place. Pricey but really good stuff. Keelen’s has good clothes too (even if the name of the place is kind of lame), not as fancy, but you can find some really nice stuff there, too. Also much less expensive. Like really inexpensive. I’m not sure how they manage that, to be honest.
Oh, and there’s also Kodohide Leatherworkers down in the Drag in Orgrimmar. For leather goods, obviously. They have some pretty cool jackets and bags and a couple other things I won’t get into here because Pops is probably going to read it and why invite the yelling.
My name is Mirembe. I’m one of your dad’s trainees (I’m the one who’s never around, if that helps) and proud meat shield warrior! Anyway, onto my question, since if you’re anything like your dad, you don’t like long letters.
When I was hanging around Nagrand, killing ogres on Lazyeye’s command (Sorry Mr. Lantressor!), I ran into Drae Drann *all spelling attempts have been scribbled out hastily* Space Goat guy in a cage in Mr. Lantressor’s camp. At least, I think he was a Space Goat. He was kinda lumpy and tentacle-y, but in all the wrong places. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he was kinda really dumb! I may have smacked him with my shield to shut him up, but I think I smacked him a little too hard because he fell down. Who was that guy, anyway?
Aka’mogash,
–Mirembe
PS: If you’re in Orgrimmar, please please PLEASE let me know how Gurtash is doing! I heard about what happened in Blackrock Spire and I’ve been worrying myself sick over him, and the energy-bandage dudes keep telling me it’s because I’m fleshy. 🙁
Oh, hey, one of Pip’s friends. He’s doing…well, okay, I guess. I’m not a healer or anything. No real news. He’s still out cold and resting over near the tauren part of town. So I guess he’s stable, there haven’t been any new problems, just…not awake. I know Pops has been going over to check on him, and I’ve popped over a couple times, and there have been some others going over. So he’s not suffering from a lack of eyes on him. I guess we just have to wait it out and see.
How were things back in Nagrand? I haven’t been back there for a few years, but I grew up in Telaar. Have you visited there? Come to think of it, I guess you probably wouldn’t have been too welcome if you’re an orc. I mean, I’m half-orc and they didn’t always seem to thrilled too have me around, so…
But so, this lumpy draenei guy. That would be one of the Broken, by the way, one of the draenei who were all…physically screwed up when the planet went kablooey — most of the people in Telaar were Broken, along with a handful of garden variety draenei. So I guess this guy would have been one of them. I guess he could have been one of the Windyreed Lost Ones, too, but I don’t see why one of them would have been in a cage over in… oh. Oh! OH! I think I know who that was! You met Corki!
And damn, I’m sorry! You met Corki!
I mean, Corki’s a really sweet kid, but, spirits help me, he’s dense. Like not even just your plain old regular dense. Just… just… Let me put it this way. You know those Dontvoch and Untrag guys, or whoever? I’m pretty sure they could outsmart Corki. Like, either of them, individually, without even getting the benefit of rubbing their bumpy heads together to activate their Wonder Twins joint mind or whatever. I’m actually glad Corki’s okay, more or less, and not, like, dead from walking off the side of one of the cliffs around Telaar because he saw a butterfly or something.
I’m not surprised Corki’s still getting himself captured by ogres. It used to happen, like, every few weeks as long as I can remember. It was almost like a hobby for him. I felt so bad for his dad, Arechron — he would keep getting these ransom notes from the ogres and get stuck having to pay gold to get Corki back, and then a few days later Corki would up and get caught again. I know Pops complains sometimes about how expensive I can be, but that’s nothing compared to how much Corki cost poor Arechron in ransom fees.
Lok’tar, Daughter of Hellscream,
I would know: what is your favourite beast? If you wish to find one in the wilds, I believe the Mok’Nathal of the Blade’s Edge Mountains would be able to help you. You’d have to earn their respect first, though, and that wouldn’t be easy; believe me, I know.
Strength and Honour,
–Rexxar, Beastmaster and Champion of the Horde
Hi Rexxar! I’m pretty sure we’ve never met, but I remember hearing about you during the last months before I moved to Dalaran. Even though they steered clear of you, what with you being Horde and all, the hunters back in Telaar used to talk about you with a lot of respect. Way more than they had for that Nesingwary guy. I don’t think they ever really knew what to make of him. Anyway, say hi to Misha for me! I hear she’s a cutie. As 600-pound fur-bearing instruments of death go.
You know, I’m not sure what my favorite animal would be. I used to ride talbuks once in a while when I was younger, and they’re pretty, but not exactly snuggly. Since I’ve been in Orgrimmar, wyverns and worgs have grown on me a lot, actually. A worg could be pretty cool. Or a wyvern, but I almost feel like I already have one, with the way Mortimer follows me around sometimes.
I’ve always liked birds a lot, though. When I was a little girl, we found a baby windroc that had fallen from its mother’s nest. I took care of it for a while until it was strong enough to go back into the wild. And I have a pretty cool bird now, too! He’s a hyacinth macaw. I named him Kalec, because he’s flappy and blue and he parrots back whatever I say to him! I know that won’t mean much to you, but trust me, it’s going to go over like gangbusters with the Sunreavers.
So I guess I’m not sure. Keeping my options open for now, I guess?
What’s it like to have a complete loser for a dad?
–Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
Oh, hi, Varry. I think you might have sent this letter to the wrong place. Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure it gets forwarded to Anduin.
6 − 6 × 6 = 0
Discuss!
–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery
No, no, Bobby, I think you got your equation mixed up. Here, let me fix it for you:
(your penis size) + (your IQ) × (number of times you’ve satisfied a woman) = 0
There! I hope that clears things up. Don’t be embarrassed, math is hard.
What a privilege it is to be able to contact you directly! I was sure I showed great enthusiasm in my letter to your father, and that our paths would cross one day, but I never did anticipate it leading to this, especially so quickly! I am honoured to have this opportunity, daughter of Hellscream.
Introductions! My name is Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker or, as I previously stated, Sarlin. I currently live at Hearthglen in the Western Plaguelands and, you’ll be pleased to hear, that the place has thrived with magic becoming less feared and more valuable! Not that it’s an invitation, of course. Merely a point that portals are always available at my beck and call, for a generous fee. I’ll be quite honest, while the Argent Crusade has the righteous reputation as the noble and faithful saviours of Azeroth we are, there hasn’t been a lot happening here lately. We normally just lounge around, chatting, drinking, fixing armour, staring at our weapons and keeping an eye on the towers. Although, rest assured, there’s always guards at the front gates and patrolling the Plaguelands, just in case we, you know, get run over by gnolls or something. Funny story, there were gnoll necromancers here some time back, and one of the magi (Lisp, I think his name was?) was actually providing them with tools to raise the dead. Now, he was thwarted by a certain orc warrior not long ago, and was rewarded by Highlord Fordring. Still, I feel like I was the ONLY one out of everybody in the Argent Crusade who was still sober enough to ask herself the question: “Why the fuck is he giving necromancy tools to GNOLLS!?” Gee, what next? Will murlocs start joining the Burning Legion? So, that’s the general idea of how things are being run these days. I won’t argue with the drinking. Sometimes, you really need it, too. Miss Daria L’Rayne is quite a fabulous partner to drink with, too. Although she has been drinking a lot lately. And when I see her, she seems exhausted. In fact, most of the time, when I go to talk to her, she puts her hand up over her ears and begs me to stop, and when I try to ask her what’s bothering her, she collapses in a heap, sobbing. Very unusual behaviour! I just can’t get to the bottom of why she would be so miserable and yet not be willing to talk about it. And, come to think of it, I don’t really see her sober at all anymore. Although, she is Tirion’s advisor and I don’t get to see her much for that reason. I guess it’s a full time job. I hope she’s alright.
Anyway, that’s beside the point. No, I mentioned a few things to your father on the topic of you, ah, fitting in. I can relate in more ways than one. I may be a Blood Elf, but I was raised by a Night Elf in Teldrassil. Sadly, like you, I was banished from the lush forests and placed into neutral territory. My dear Kal’dorei mother fell in battle not two years later, and I was brought back the Horde, left wandering foreign soil, confronting alien races and wondering where those weary, young feet would take me, if they could bear my weight. I know how it is, trying to find your own place. And, as you may have learned, Blood Elves are not exactly taken seriously by many of the other racial leaders. This is mostly down to our prissy regent-lord, Lor’Themar Theron. You know, ponytail, braid. Not a SINGLE hair out of place. That’s probably how he lost an eye, come to think of it. He was too busy fixing his hair to realize that there was a fucking invasion happening. Rest assured, many of the other Sin’dorei are more attributing, in more ways than one. We’re strong, lithe, quick on our feet, faithful and exceptionally skilled in magic. That is, if we know how to control our thirsts for it. But anyhow, I digress.
No, I just wondered of your exploits since you met your father and became Horde-affiliated. How you’ve been settling in. What troubles you’ve faced. Coming from Dalaran and being landed into dusty old Orgrimmar can’t have been fun, huh? Have you ever been to Silvermoon City? It’s so wonderful, here! I remember Liadrin used to spend most of her time in Farstrider Square, training the Blood Knights. She’s nice. And hey, the Tauren Chieftains are here, too! Which, really, I don’t care much for them. Personally, that Sig Nicious guy has more arm hair than he does brains, but who cares! They’re famous! And aside that, there’s a lush, golden forest out there as well.
Or, if you wanted to feel more at home, there’s always Mulgore. I find that it’s quite similar to Nagrand, in many ways. Although, be wary of the mountains. There are rumours of oversized cannibal critters with guns, chainsaws and the like up there. Probably just a story to keep young whippersnappers like US in our place. Pfft. Like I’m afraid of a rabbit with a gun. Still. They have been said to absorb sanity, which makes me wonder if they’re, you know, actually Old Gods in disguise. When in doubt, blame the Old Gods, amirite?
Hey, if you ever, like, wanted to hang out, just let me know! Trust me, I’m a lot more fun in person. I mean, not to soak up in sterotypes, but I can do AMAZING hairstyles. Oh, and my fashion sense? FABULOUS. I even made earrings with the Argent Crusade icon on them, just so everyone knows to withdraw the swords when I decide to stroll through the likes of Ironforge or whatever. That way, I don’t have a tabard flapping around and I can still look pretty good. Oh, and guess what I have! I met a bronze dragon a while ago (babbling idiot, kept talking about how we were all doomed by demons and shit like that) who handed me this package before departing. It’s called a S.E.L.F.I.E camera. You can take these things called “selfies” with it! Oh, and mine’s got a diamond on it, too. Or is it a cubic zirconia? Anyway.
I just have one last question. I, uh, spilled my inkwell. Ignore the smudges. How are you getting along with your father?
May the Light protect you, good magus, and all you hold most dear to you. I eagerly await your response.
–Sarlin
Wow.
Um.
Hang on, I’m going to grab some kafa and try to get through that again. I’m pretty sure I zoned out at some point on the first try. Somewhere around the part where oh my Light.
So, stand by.
Okay, here we go again with a little liquid fortitude. PSL FTW, right? (Honestly, if I’d known the Horde had Starbulls, I probably would have bailed on the Silver Covenant years ago.)
So… wow, Sarlin. That’s…that’s impressive. Yeah, I can’t imagine why that Daria girl drinks so much. She might have a problem and someone should probably try talking to her about and a propos of nothing does anyone know how diligent the bartenders are at the Broken Tusk about checking IDs? Just a random thought. Don’t mind me.
I guess I’ve been getting along with Pops pretty okay. It was kind of weird and awkward at first. He didn’t really come to see me a lot when I first got to Orgrimmar — that is, after he met me. When I first got to Orgrimmar, he wasn’t around, because he was off in Pandaria on business. I mostly spent time with Liadrin then. You’re right, she’s pretty cool. But then after Garry came back and Liadrin introduced me, I think he was mostly pretty shocked. I don’t think he really believed I was his daughter at first, and then he wanted to send me off to study at the Undercity. And I guess I get it, it was probably a lot to get dropped on him, and maybe he just needed some time to get used to the idea. Still, after the way things happened in Dalaran, I suppose I was kind of hoping he’d give me this big welcome and take me in like the people there never really did. Or the people back in Telaar, even. They didn’t really talk about me being half orc, but you could always kind of tell…well… yeah, anyway. So I guess the point is that I probably had this whole dream scenario in my head. Which was probably silly of me. You know, setting up for more disappointment.
Things have been better, though. I’m settled in again here in Orgrimmar, and just porting over to the UC for lessons. Pops cleared out a room upstairs in Grommash Hold for me to have, with this little balcony that overlooks the Valley of Strength. Oh and here’s the thing, about whether it’s been hard moving to Orgrimmar — I don’t really mind it. You have to remember, I grew up in Telaar, which is really just a poor village built around what’s left of some old draenei buildings. So it’s not like I was used to having luxurious surroundings. Don’t get me wrong, Dalaran was amazing, and I love Silvermoon, but Orgrimmar hasn’t been bad. It’s dustier than Nagrand, yeah, but it’s still sort of…familiar, I guess. Eventually it might even start to feel like home.
It could still seriously use a few coats of paint, though. And don’t even ask me what’s up with all the spikes all over everything, because really.
Hello, young Shayari,
I am Lantresor of the Blade, chieftain of the Burning Skull Ogre Clan and formerly part of the Burning Blade Orc Clan. Like you, I am the child of a draenei and an orc, but my parentage is in the reverse — my mother was the orc, my father the draenei. My question is this: do you know anything about my father? I myself know only that his name was D’Kaan, he was a hunter of sorts, he lived in the village of Telaar, just like you, and he was dead by the time I passed the tests to become a Blademaster. I have had no luck seeking information elsewhere.
Also, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you – I assure you that I know and understand many of the things you have gone through, having experienced them myself. Be brave, child of two worlds; you are not alone.
–Lantresor of the Blade
P.S. Whatever you may have heard to the contrary, I am not trying to pursuing you romantically! Even if I was interested, I would know better than to seek a relationship with a mage – too much potential to become scorched earth, I say.
I know, Lanny, I’m too hot for a lot of people to handle. It’s okay.
I remember hearing about you back in Telaar. I picked up the fact that there had been other half-draenei-half-orcs, but it wasn’t something anyone liked to talk about, or even acknowledge if they could help it. Your name came up a couple times. Mostly fearfully. I don’t know what you did to put the fear of the spirits into those people, but I’ll tell you, whatever it was, it worked. I don’t know if I know much about your father, although his name does sound familiar. I think it might have come up in passing when Arechron would talk about some of the weird plant-based life, like the sporelings, that developed in Zangarmarsh after the world shattered. He would talk about these other…well… plant people, basically, that used to exist. Botanical something-or-other, maybe? Anyway, Arechron would sometimes talk about the rangari hunters who used to fight them, and how if any of the hunters survived the shattering they would probably take an interest in what’s happened in Zangar. That’s when I think he would have mentioned D’Kaan, along with a few other hunter people like him.
I don’t know how much that helps. I hope you can find out more about him, though. I know what it’s like not to know much about your family. I’m still trying to find things out myself. I’m still getting to know my dad, obviously, and I get the sense that there’s a whole bunch of other family history I’m still not in on.
Speaking of family history, does Pops usually get stuck answering so much of this stuff? Like on a regular basis? No wonder he gets cranky with people sometimes.
Well, anyway, thanks for writing in, everyone, even if a lot of you seem kinda weird. I guess this is where I should wrap this up.
And I guess this is where I should start looking up addresses for people who need a personal talking to.
More soon.
[Obligatory reminder: The Warchief’s next mailbag is coming up in two weeks, on Monday, October 5. Send in your letters either by e-mail (link at the top of the right sidebar!) or using the form below. Possible other guest mailbags in the future — time will tell!]
Monday mailbag
Okay, time to dip back into the mail and see what you peeps have on your minds these days. Getting right to it…
It has recently come to my attention that you have been…cavorting with trolls. Considering your political stance on trolls, this would do some great damage to your position as Warchief if this should get out. So perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement. A hundred thousand gold, delivered by your most resourceful grunts, to Razor Hill at sundown in three days’ time. Or this photo is released to the press!
*enclosed is a very incriminating photo of Garrosh getting a little…personal with an unnamed troll woman*
–A Humble Peon
Wait, what?
Hang on, hang on, are you talking about Zuri? Getting a lapdance now and then counts as “cavorting” these days? Um. Assuming I was getting lapdances. Which I was not by any means. At all. That, um, that photo you’ve got there is an obvious Photoshop job. Bad one at that. Yeah. So.
SO. More importantly. TRYING TO EXTORT THE WARCHIEF, huh? Oh, yeah, THAT’S a real smart move. Especially when you pretty much TELL me where you are. So, RAZOR HILL, is it? Well then, not-so-Humble Peon, I hope you have a nice window in your room to look out of, and a nice comfy chair you can sit back in, so you can watch the arrival of ALL THE KOR’KRON who are about to be CRAWLING ALL THE FUCK OVER RAZOR HILL starting, oh, I don’t know, TEN MINUTES AGO. We already had a few security questions down there, so you know what? Thank you, motherfucker, for giving me a reason to start tightening things up down there for real.
SEE YOU SOON, DEAD MAN WALKING.
As I write this, Mogor and I are wandering around Orgrimmar, getting a good look at the city. It’s a strange feeling to be back among my mother’s people, especially since I expected prejudice and judgement but have faced none. Mogor insisted we try out riding the local wolves, but there’s a reason ogres never took to riding, especially on wolfback. The sight of that clumsy fool trying to get on a wolf’s back and falling off the other side is one I shall long relish.
I wasn’t expecting to write another letter so soon, but given that a certain goblin saw fit to cast aspersions on my intentions regarding your daughter… well, best to clear up any doubts if we’re going to be working together closely on an ongoing basis, yes?
While I do have to admit that your daughter strikes me as a pretty little spitfire, I highly doubt she would want someone like me – even if I were the handsomest orc in the Horde, she probably already thinks I’m past my prime (you did notice my greying hair, didn’t you?) I do believe there was a time when I might have pursued her romantically – maybe back in the days before the rise of the Horde when peace existed between orcs and draenei. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen any indication that she has the slightest interest in men, at least in that way. If anything, you may want to check if her interests go in… another direction.
The real reason I keep asking about her is that… well, there are two, actually. 1) I’m curious. I can’t help wondering if she knows anything about my father and what happened to him, or if any of the draenei from her village know who I am and the plight she and I faced. 2) I had hoped to tell her right from the off to be brave, because she is not alone. She is a child of two worlds and two people; so am I. And unlike Garona Halforcen, I do not resent her. I thought it would be best to say that sooner rather than later.
Besides, my taste in women has broadened since I became a leader of ogres. By which I mean, while ogre women are rare indeed… suffice it to say, my dear Garrosh, I have personal experience that they do. There are certain perks to being in charge. You know how it is.
I hope your opinion of me hasn’t been permanently poisoned. If you need any further proof of my good intentions, I can make an offer of that kind to Garona Halforcen myself. It would be an interesting experience to compare our physiques up-close, and it sounds to me like you could use someone to take her eyes off you.
As for the goblin responsible for those allegations, if she has any further doubts herself, or wishes to further discuss what a “huge complainer” I am… Please, send her along to me. I’d be happy to enlighten her in person. In great detail.
–Lantresor of the Blade
P.S. By the way, a little raven told me that Garona got pregnant by a human sorcerer and ended up giving birth to a boy who was half-human, quarter-orc, quarter-draenei. Is that true? If so, perhaps she’d appreciate baring the child of someone more like herself. Also, the blademasters I mentioned during our meeting have agreed to join up, and will be on their way as soon as they procure suitable transport. I hadn’t expected to work with Azuka Bladefury again after her father kicked me out of the Burning Blade clan, but it seems she didn’t agree with him about my banishment and got kicked out herself for her troubles. She seems amenable enough.
Hey, Lantresor. Good to hear from you, even if I’m little surprised to see you writing, what with us having been talking face to face the last few days. But, whatever works — sometimes it’s good to get your thoughts down on paper, I guess.
Glad you’re getting a good vibe from Orgrimmar. As you probably realized once you got to spend some time with yours truly, us orcs are usually pretty chill. As long as you’re not pissing us off. Or looking at us funny. Somehow I want to make a Jorin Deadeye joke here, but I’m not really coming up with anything specific. Oh well. You probably see where I would be going with it.
Heh. See. Unlike Jorin. Heheh. Fucker.
Anyway.
Dude, seriously, you wanna have a go at Garona? Be my guest. Have at it, man. One less thing for me to worry about. Believe me, I’ve had enough conversations with her that I would steer clear personally, but if that’s your thing, go right ahead, you do you. And hey, you know, since the two of you are both half-orc and half-draenei, wouldn’t it be kind of a hoot if you DID have some kids, and the halves from the both of you lined up so the kids came out either all orc or all draenei? Math is crazy, man.
So look, as far as Shayari goes, I know you’d be pretty old for her, but let’s be real here. The world is packed full of creepy old dudes who would not think twice about chasing after some PYT that caught their eye. SHE might not be interested in guys their age, but that sure as hell doesn’t stop THEM from trying. You know what DOES stop them? When Shay whips up a pyroblast to the crotch. There’ve been a lot of those around Orgrimmar since she’s been in town, let me tell you. Which is fine by me — it saves me the trouble of having to track the old fuckers down myself and opening up a family-sized can of agonizing pain on them.
But I mean, come on. “You may want to check if her interests go in another direction”? First of all, dude, there is no possible way for an out-of-the-blue conversation like that NOT to be thirty-three flavors of awkward. And second of all, why — WHY? — would you want to go planting THOSE mental images in people’s heads, for fuck’s sake? Seriously, I have ENOUGH trouble sometimes keeping Gurtash focused, without…
…
Never mind.
…
Moving on. Next letter.
I Mogor the Ogre. Mogor the other leader of Burning Skull. Mogor on his way around big orc city with Lantresor. You don’t know Mogor? That okay; Mogor only learned about you four-and-a-half weeks ago.
Mogor give you the short version of Mogor’s story. First Cho’Gall found Mogor and grabbed him by back of neck. Cho’Gall took Mogor to scary orc in hood. Scary orc in hood cast spell on Mogor, made Mogor grow new head. Mogor’s new head argued with Mogor’s old head. Mogor very confused. Scary orc in hood scoffed, called Mogor a “failure”. Cho’Gall throw Mogor away, but Mogor found orc clan, called themselves Laughing Skull. Then Mogor lived with clan and learned magic from Elements. In the end, Mogor rule clan.
Ner’Zhul tried to kill Mogor for stealing death knights, but Mogor survived that. Then funny pinkskins who called themselves “the Allianz” came to Orc-world, and Mogor gave them magic book as thanks for helping beat up Bonechewer Clan. Portals almost destroyed Orc-world, but Mogor survived. Then at arena in Na’Grand, stupid people kept killing Mogor, but Mogor always came back. Elements help Mogor, keep bringing Mogor back to life everytime Mogor die. Mogor not know why, but Elements say Mogor has important task to do for them. Mogor not get it, but that okay.
Mogor not expect to lead ogres again, but Laughing Skull went to work for red orcs. Red ogres are stupid. Mogor not join them. Anyway, Mogor listening to Elements to pass time on way ’round big orc city. Elements not happy. They say somebodies torturing them in caves under city, trying to conquer them. You know ’bout this? Mogor hear that orcs here Elements too, but not sure. Mogor hope so. Elements want Mogor to go down into caves and bash somebodies treating them bad. Mogor want to, but Lantresor keep saying “No.” He always saying “No.” He look at Mogor like Mogor is stupid and know nothing. Mogor not care. Lantresor can’t hear Elements. He not know they suffering. Mogor want to go down there. Mogor want to make somebodies stop torturing Elements.
Mogor sit down now. Heads hurt from writing.
–Mogor the Ogre
Oh. Good. So now I’m hearing from THIS one, too. I’m starting to wonder if Lantresor and Mogor are going to turn into a smarter version of Dontrag and Utvoch. Only I think there’s a pretty decent chance people will be able to keep Lantresor and Mogor straight. The fact that they have a different number of heads helps a lot.
Anyhow. Um. Look, Mogor, you should be listening to Lantresor, okay? Lantresor has the right idea: No. He’s clearly the brains of the operation anyway, and he’s got a much better idea of how things work in orc cities like Orgrimmar. I know all about the caves, and believe me, I’ve got people ON the situation as we speak. And it’s sensitive enough down there, what with the shaman trying to do their thing, and now I’ve got Mokvar down there trying to juggle like five things at once, and the last thing we need is an ogre running around like a kodo in a china shop. So just COOL it, okay? Remember, you and Lantresor were the ones who approached ME about signing on with the Horde, and I’m the Warchief, so your job here is to listen to what I’m telling you and let me worry about what we need to do down there.
Okay? Got that? Are we good?
Ugh. Ogres.
I have a question concerning Shayari. I’m an admirer of her fashion sense, especially that adorable adventurer number she was sporting during your recent journey to Blackrock Spire. Do you know if she has a particular vendor she frequents for her outfits? I realize this might be a better question to ask her directly, but I would imagine you might have an idea, since… well… you’re the one receiving the bills.
–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City
Yes. Yes I am. And based on the bills, Tandeleina, her favorite shop is ALL OF THEM. Like all of them, ever. Literally ever. Like when she arrives at a trade district, near as I can figure, her very presence must open up some kind of ripple in the fabric of time and space so she can stroll right on into shops that closed for good like three years ago, and then I get a backdated receipt charging interest.
So if you want to shop where Shay shops, I’ve got good news for you. You can’t NOT shop where Shay shops. Go ahead, pick a store. Any one you want. She’s been there. You can’t miss. It’s the surest sure thing that ever sured.
Perhaps you remember me, though I’d hardly doubt by name. After all, you’re the mighty wolf of an obedient pack. We hear your words, but do you always hear ours, your loyal and most valiant soldiers? Well, that remains to be seen.
My name is Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, though most would simply know me as “Sarlin” or even “Sarls”, although I respectfully request that you refrain from using the latter. It’s quite improper and, to be frank, greatly annoys me. My mother put her heart and soul into the name she bestowed upon me, and to abbreviate it not once, but twice, and to “Sarls” at that? No good. Anyway.
Moving on.
I’m a Paladin of the Argent Crusade, former captain for the Farstriders of Silvermoon. Should you wish to respond, please mail your letter back to Hearthglen, my current home.
I was one of the many heroes that came to the aid of the Alliance, Horde, Argent Crusade, Knights of the Ebon Blade and, at long last, the Ashen Verdict, when our hated enemy, Arthas Menethil, held the mantle of the dreaded Lich King. Before I enlist my queries, I would like to extend my thanks for a fine and noble effort. Your Horde underwent great strain to break through those cursed halls, and I wish to pass on (though delayed) my condolences for the loss of Dranosh Saurfang. May his soul find redemption with the elements, and live as far from the cursed plane of death as it possibly can. Moreover, if you happen to cross paths with Varok Saurfang, be sure to pass forward my gratitude for persistence and valour. I could not imagine fighting a war, knowing that my only child roamed the halls in death as all he stood against in life. Dark days, good warrior. Very dark days indeed.
But I digress! No, I have some questions for you, regarding your blog and other certain topics. First of all, wonderful effort! Who knew that you’d actually be able to get Sylvanas Windrunner, the BANSHEE QUEEN, to use the “^_^” emoji! And to see that even Sargeras himself has found his way here, from the Twisting Nether!? Very impressive. This may give us some insight on his plans, too. After all, we have our bows drawn towards the sky should the Burning Legion descend. In fact, I have two questions on the matter. One, how the fuck did the leader of the Burning-fucking-Legion secure a stable connection up there, and two, does he not know that internet routers can be traced and followed up? By the Light, he might as well wave a flag back and forth, set off a bunch of fireworks and say “This is where I live! Key’s under the mat!”
MOVING ON.
No, if I may raise a query on a more, ah, personal matter, regarding your daughter, Shayari. Yes, the word has found Hearthglen, if you would believe it. From what I’ve heard, Shayari is a young, diligent and rather rambunctious half-orc-half-draenei. Now, I know what you’re thinking. Prissy Blood Elf with more concern for my shampoo type than my people. No, actually. You see, I was raised, for the first few years of my life, among the Night Elves of Teldrassil by a Night Elf priestess and as a beacon of sunlight in a land composed entirely of stars and dusk, I can very much sympathize with how she must be feeling, previously a Silver Covenant magus and resident of the proud city of Dalaran, and now standing amongst the righteous soldiers of the Horde in Orgrimmar. Quite frankly, Warchief, I’m still coming to terms with her, ah, existence. After all, if I expected you to have a child at all, I never would have imagined its mother being a Draenei. Tell me, who does she resemble more closely, you or her mother? It would undoubtedly be easier for her if she had the more prominent features of her father but her appearance, alone, is but a fraction of the battle ahead. There is still the matter of adapting to her new surroundings. Forgive me, Orgrimmar isn’t quite as, hmm, shall we say “luxurious” or, really, if I’m going to be honest, quite as habitable as the likes of a pristine, welcoming Dalaran. Perhaps the plains of Mulgore or my own beloved homeland, Quel’Thalas, would be a more suitable home for the youngling? Has she seen the Undercity already? If so, I’m sorry. Dreadful place. I’d be inclined to feel pity for the fallen ranger, Sylvanas Windrunner, for having a constant party of orcs watch over her. In truth, it’s the poor orcs I pity. Sometimes I wonder why the Alliance is so desperate to take back Lordaeron, as though it were a prized gem. They’d have months, if not years, YEARS, of cleaning up after Sylvanas’s mess. And I do NOT mean that metaphorically, my good sir, oh no! I’m talking about the LITERAL mess of bones and sinew and stitched up body parts and dead humans and rusted tools of torture and blood-stained racks and murloc gizzards and infested deer tails, not to mention the gory aftermath of an alchemy lesson gone wrong with the jaws, arm and possibly eyeballs of the students strewn crudely across the floor with the mass of bubbling, toxic residue as said failed experiment among them. This is nothing against the Banshee Queen’s efforts towards the resources of your Horde, of course, but my word, is she a destructive one! To think her very own alchemists would perform their vile tests on not only the dead, but the living!? Did they not learn their lesson from Arthas? I tell you, my friend, she continues to surprise me even now! As though the events of the Wrathgate were not shockingly humiliating for the Horde as it was, but to spread the plague against your will in an effort to win a city that’s been walled up for years, only to be betrayed AGAIN and shot dead!? Oh, Light preserve our souls! It makes NO SENSE, I tell you!
Ahem. Anyway, as I was saying…
Yes, Shayari! Among the information that has reached me here regarding your daughter is, I believe, still in her teens. Now, as one of the soldiers who outlasted Arthas’s reign in Northrend, I think you’ll be quite surprised to hear that I doubt I am more than five years older than your daughter. At least, that’s how I feel. See, as I was adopted quite late into my toddlerhood, my age has always been a mystery to me. I’m just going by what the mirror, and my head, tells me. And here is where I state my query; does Shayari have much trouble fitting in? Does she have any peers, or anybody she likes to hang around with and talk about cute girly things, like clothes and makeup and the latest hits from our own Tauren Chieftains? Does she get lonely? Moreover, is there anyone she’d like to hang out with?
If this is the case, I would like to, most humbly, offer you, and of course, Shayari, my company. It would be an honour to stand in the presence of a great Horde leader, and a great Horde soldier in the making. I presume, anyway. After all, I know little of Shayari, save that she is your daughter and a mage. If the matter needs no further discussion, however, you’d do well to remember my offer should it ever come to question. I aim only to assist those in need, be they Alliance, Horde, or otherwise.
One last question for you, sir, and I’ll finish up. My inkpot is almost empty, anyway.
What’s the deal with lemon squares?
Shorel’aran, noble Warchief. Always have faith.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker
…
Holy shit.
YOUR INKPOT IS ALMOST EMPTY INDEED.
Sarlin, do you happen to be related to Tirion? Or maybe Grottee Metalbeard? Because this letter is like the two of them hooked up and gave birth to THIS LETTER.
Oh, and you guys wanna know the irony here? I mainly know Sarlin here from Twitter. Which means every other time she’s had something to say to me, she’s been limited to 140 characters. I GUESS THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE FUCKING GLOVES ARE OFF. Fucking hell.
So, okay, answers in no particular order:
The deal with the lemon squares is that lemon squares are fucking AWESOME. Where the hell have you been? I’ve always been a big fan of lemon squares, ever since Greatmother used to make them for me as a kid. But also, if you’re really, REALLY late to the party, well, back when I first started the blog, this troublemaking tree druid somehow got ahold of Greatmother’s recipe, then went and blabbed it on her own website. Which didn’t sit well with me. There was this whole to-do with me trying to get the situation under control, and I think the recipe is still out there, but eh, fuck it, at least now nobody has an excuse for not knowing how to make a decent tray.
About Sargeras… who the hell knows how he’s able to get stable internet up there in the Nether. I’d like to know who he’s got working on that, though — it’s a fuckton better than the wireless network Grizzle Gearslip slapped together for me down in Pandaria. That’s a pretty good call, too, about tracing the signal. Might have to get Spazzle on that. Have him do…you know… some nerdy thing that he knows how to do that I don’t really give a fuck about.
And as for Shay… well, I mean, look at her. Obviously she takes after her mother more. She has a few physical differences from a typical draenei, but she definitely looks a lot more draenei than she does orc. And she’s seventeen, yeah. And yeah, she’s been to the Undercity — funny you’d mention the alchemists down there, seeing as the REASON she goes to Undercity, on a pretty regular basis, in fact, is to see the master apothecary down there, who’s kind of in charge of continuing her mage training. In her down time, I’m not sure what’s going on with her as far as friends go. I think she’s been hanging out with Taktani a little, which, I mean, don’t ask me to explain that one, but I guess they ARE pretty close age-wise. Even if Shay’s…like…a good decade older than Tak as far as MENTAL age goes. But whatever.
As for giving her someone else to hang out with, I mean, sure, but I’m not really the one to ask. You’re free to try reaching out to her yourself, and…I guess…ask her on a friend-date or something? Or whatever the hell you kids do these days? But either way, yeah, probably better to ask her yourself.
And ACTUALLY, since like… EVERYBODY seems to have questions about Shayari these days, you know what? Here. I’ll LET you ask her yourself. Bonus mailbag, coming up pronto, where I’ll get Shay to answer your questions personally. Will that satisfy you people? There. Have at it. Go nuts. I’ll be the one sitting in the back chuckling while she tries to deal with you people.
I’m out for now. More soon.
[TRANSLATION, and COMING ATTRACTIONS TEASE: As the Warchief promised, this month will feature a bonus, GUEST mailbag, in which Shayari answers your letters. Shay’s guest mailbag will take place on Monday, September 21. Send your letters to garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the form below. Please indicate in the subject line or body of the message that it’s a letter for Shayari, just to make sure I don’t mix it up with a question for Garrosh. Speaking of whom, don’t forget the next mailbag coming from Garrosh himself, on Monday, October 5! Get your letters in for that one, too!]
The cost of doing business
So, some of you might remember the other day when Lantresor of the Blade wrote to me saying – among other things – that he was coming up to Orgrimmar to see about signing on with the Horde. Seemed like a pretty good deal, what with Lantresor being a major badass by all accounts, plus him being pretty much the head honcho of a clan of ogres. Which, yeah, maybe not the deepest thinkers in the world, but for real, have you seen some of the hired help I’ve already got on staff? I have Dontrag and Utvoch on payroll. I’ve got no business throwing stones.
Anyhow, I got Marogg the infantry chef to whip up a welcoming dinner for Lantresor and his crew, but we kind of overshot a little. See, when Lantresor sent his letter, he mentioned forming a new “Burning Skull” ogre clan, and wanting to sign on… then he said he got that Mogor ogre dude to port “us” to what I’m guessing was Ratchet (where, if epic limericks are to be believed, there once was a goblin from)… and that “we” would arrive in Grommash Hold soon.
And see, that’s great and all. Problem was, “us” and “we” didn’t give me much of an idea of how many people “us” and “we” were, and based on everything else Lantresor was saying, as far as I knew, dude was gonna roll up on Orgrimmar with his whole damn ogre clan. And seriously, have you ever tried feeding a bunch of ogres? Pro tip: don’t. Trust me. I’ve been to Brackenwall Village a bunch of times to see Draz’Zilb. You know why the place always looks so run down? Because motherfuckers don’t have time to fix shit when motherfuckers gotta spend their whole day scraping up enough food to cover their daily requirement of 20,000 calories a head. Including a bunch of dudes who’ve got more than one head.
Anyway, point is, I had some indeterminate-sized ogre contingent rolling on into town, and I knew I was going to have to FEED these stupid assholes, because, you know, I’m not going to be fucking RUDE. (Greatmother didn’t raise no ungracious hosts. My heretofore unboxed ears would not survive.) So I had to have Marogg err on the side of safety and crank out enough grub to feed a small army of ogres. Which… let me tell you, that’s not gonna be a fun line item to see in next month’s budget report. I might have to get some slaughterhouses up and running just to offset the dent this puts in the meat supply. Maybe in the Barrens. Seems like we’ve got some spare real estate out there. Anyhow, I digress.
Bottom line, Marogg pulled in a bunch of culinary personnel to help – I even got our ol’ pal Ji Lunchbox and some of his panda buddies chipping in on this – and managed to whip up enough eats to cover our bases. And so, who shows up?
Lantresor and Mogor.
The end. THAT was the fucking “we.” Lantresor and his double-headed, half-brained plus-fucking-one.
FUCKED OVER ONCE AGAIN BY AMBIGUOUS PRONOUN ANTECEDENTS. SEE? SEE? IMPRECISE GRAMMAR CAN COST A SMALL FORTUNE. STAY IN FUCKING SCHOOL, KIDS.
Um. I mean “fucking school” as in… like… you know… just school. Not school for fucking. Because for one thing, I mean, I get enough hate mail as it is, without advocating THAT certificate program. And for another, not for nothing, but it would be kind of a futile teaching exercise. Either you got it or you don’t. Sorry, nerds.
MOVING ON.
Anyway, point is, we massively overshot there, so, you know, if you happen to be in the Orgrimmar neck of the woods, and you like Kickin’ Chimaerok Chops, well, I’ve got leftovers. Like… a LOT of leftovers. Like make-the-week-after-Pilgrim’s-Bounty-look-like-fucking-NOTHING kind of leftovers. And the faster they get eaten, the sooner I can relieve the frost mages I’ve got on duty round the clock keeping the shit from spoiling. And MAN OH MAN, you can practically HEAR Ji high-tailing it over here with a fork and knife in hand, can’t you?
So where was I? Oh. Yeah. Lantresor.
So yeah, the initial meeting went pretty well. I don’t know if either of us knew what to make of the other at first, but after a little while we started exchanging stories about ways we’ve each messed with Jorin Deadeye, and that broke the ice right quick. We still have some odds and ends to work out, but it looks like Lantresor and his crew are going to come on board, which is only going to help shore up defenses on a bunch of different fronts. Plus, Lantresor apparently knows a handful of blademasters from the old Burning Blade clan who are still hiding out in Outland, and he seems pretty confident he could bring them over as well. So, a lot of potential win going on.
The only awkward part has been how Lantresor kept asking about Shayari. And, um, you know… after Khizzara turned on the warning lights on that one, just to be safe, I made sure Shay was out of town when Lantresor was due to arrive. By… well… sending her off on a shopping trip. Which… seemed like a decent enough idea at the time. Until she got home with a fucking kodo carrying the stuff she bought. Including the kodo. This one’s gonna leave a mark, I can tell.
Meanwhile, Lantresor keeps asking after Shay. I may just have to bite the cannonball and try to get Garona over here.
I’m getting too old for this shit.
More soon.
Monday mailbag
Time to dip back into the ol’ mailbag. Let’s see what we’ve got this time around…
Firstly, I thank you for accepting Grimjaw into the Kor’kron fold, and hope he will serve you well; secondly, my apologies for the depressive content of my letters – it was not my intention to “bring the room down”.
Instead, I will share some good news with you: my son has taken to training as a warrior and will be ready to take his Om’riggor – his rite of passage – next year, and my daughter has taken to learning the shamanic arts. I have high hopes for both of them.
Also, there’s something I think you should hear, Warchief. Another of my wolves – Golmash, I call him, after your grandfather, whose legend is known even to me – has a black pelt and a set of eerie green eyes. And I don’t mean in the dark, slimy green of a swamp so much as a strange, otherworldly glare. I didn’t think anything of it the first time I noticed, but since then I’ve been feeling strangely ill-at-ease whenever he looks at me. I did some research into the nature of these eyes and what I’ve found… is both confusing and disturbing.
On one hand, the eye colour is not unique or unnatural (so far as anyone can tell); on the other hand, only one particular wolf dynasty has ever had them, and rarely so. This dynasty, dubbed “moonwolf”, lived in Shadowmoon Valley until the arrival of the Legion and the corruption of the land that ensued, and the last known scion of this lineage was Skychaser, the companion of Ner’zhul. The fate of the fallen Great Shaman is well-known, but no one knows what happened to his wolf.
I have never had any encounter with that particular lineage, and so far as I can tell, Golmash is strictly of Frostwolf and Nagrandeur descent; thus, the cause of his haunting eyes remains a mystery. How should I proceed from here, Warchief? I am loathe to create a problem where there is none, but something in my gut tells me sinister things are afoot.
Yours faithfully,
–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master
Hey again, Ogunaro. Grimjaw’s gotten settled in over at the Kor’kron stables. I’ve been over to have a look at him, and he IS a pretty fine looking wolf. Like I mentioned last time, I’ve got something in mind for him, but it’s going to be a little bit before I get that going. The timing is kind of up in the air for the time being, but hopefully things will fall into place soon. I’ll keep you updated as things go.
As for this mystery wolf of yours (appreciate the shout-out to Golmash, by the way… well, unless it turns out there’s something seriously fishy going on with him, in which case, gee, thanks for dragging my grandfather into it)… that does sound pretty weird. I can’t say I’ve run into any glowy green-eyed wolves myself, and I’ve ridden more than my share over the years. Still, I don’t want to start running around cooking up crazy stories and conspiracy theories, especially when you sound like you’ve got a good sense of the line this wolf came from. So for right now, what I’d recommend is keeping a close watch on him and maybe keep him apart from your other wolves when you’re not able to monitor them. Is there anything strange about his behavior? How does he get along with the other wolves? Or with you, for that matter? Anything you’ve noticed about him that’s different from most wolves, OTHER than the green eyes?
This is definitely worth monitoring, but I don’t want to start panicking straight away. The Ner’zhul connection is creepy as fuck, but I also don’t put a lot of stock in ghost stories. Unless the ghost in question is one of those bankers down at the Undercity, because funny enough, those dudes actually DO come up with some pretty good stock tips. FYI.
Grats on your kids coming along with their training, by the way. Are they working with anyone in the military trainee program, or has it been individual class training so far? I’ve got a bunch of trainees studying under me, but then you probably already knew that if you read the blog. Your son’s coming up on his om’riggor next year, huh? He must be pretty advanced at this point, in that case. I’m hoping some of mine will be ready for the rite before too long, but right now that’s pretty dependent on…well, a bunch of things. No need to belabor ’em with you. I’m sure you know the drill. Next year would be pretty nice, though.
Anyway, I’ll keep you posted on what’s up with Grimjaw. And the other wolf thing.
It seems serendipity brought me and your little “trainee” together. But I’ll elaborate on that in a moment. First, let me tell you that Boulderfist purchased our computer equipment from a rather enterprising goblin shaman and obtained our Internet as spoils of war from the Shadow Council. How they can be smart enough to create working Internet here on Outland and yet foolish enough to serve the Burning Legion is beyond me, but then there it is. Now about your trainee…
I was naturally curious when several of my ogres came wandering up the hill to me complaining about an outbreak of headaches. As it happens, they had incurred these headaches from being repeatedly smashed in the face (and other places) with a shield by an eager, cheerful little orc girl with a potbelly worthy of a ogre woman (few of them that there are). How fortunate that she isn’t as good at killing ogres as she thinks; I settled for reproaching my men for being stupid enough to let a orcling child knock the stuffing out of them. Some claim the ordeal has left them dumber – but frankly, dear Hellscream, I doubt that very much, and if it has, it hasn’t made that much difference.
At any rate, even allowing for the fact that she didn’t know about our truce, as I discovered when I caught her lurking around the Laughing Skull Ruins watching that brute of a shaman Mogor pounding a group of fledgling Alliance “heroes” into the ground and confronted her, there is a certain principle about truces that has to be upheld – namely, the principle that you don’t attack the people you have a truce with. So when I learned of this Jorin Blackeye or whatever his name was continuing to send adventurers after my ogres, I decided a response was called-for.
We lured him out of Garadar under the pretense of discussing a peace settlement concerning the village of Halaa with the Kurenai Broken, and there I confronted him about his actions. I had hoped to settle things in a reasonable way, but not only did he spout some nonsense about “no forgiveness” and whatnot, he took the time to pass comment about my Burning Blade heritage before he started to walk away. After that… well, it’s very embarassing. He sort of walked right into my blade. Face-first, no less. And my blade brushed against his one good eye. All completely by accident. How very careless of the both of us.
Anyway, given that he was using that eye for no-good purposes, perhaps it is an acceptable casualty. I hear he has not dared show his face in public since then – with an injury like that, I know I wouldn’t – and that his clan are electing a new leader. Hopefully they’ll be more understanding from now on.
By the way, speaking of Mogor, the brute and I have reached an accord: a permanent end to the fighting between our clans and the merging of Boulderfist and Warmaul into a single clan, as it was long ago, under the name Burning Skull (somehow, Laughing Blade just doesn’t have the same ring to it). We’re interested in signing on with your Horde – I admit, I’m curious about meeting another of my own kind, even if she is very different from me, and the contribution I can offer you seems like a fitting gesture.
Mogor has portalled us to a small goblin harbour in the Barrens. We’ll be in Grommash Hold soon to discuss terms.
–Lantresor of the Blade
Okay, you know what? Not going to lie. Not a whole lot registered other than the part about Jorin getting a little what-for. In the face. Jorin Blackeye indeed. Heh. HeheheHAH. HAHAHAHA. Such a dick.
So wait, did you actually get his eye, or JUST graze him, or what? I get that you did some damage, but eyes are tricky territory, and even a little extra flick of the blade one way or the other could… hmm… you know, come to think of it, probably best not to dwell on it. I’ll probably end up hearing through channels soon enough.
So speaking of trainees, you realize that when Mirembe sees your letter, of all the stuff you brought up, all she’s going to notice is the “potbelly” part, right? I can almost hear the letter landing in my inbox now.
Also, eesh, surprise guests. I better have Marogg whip up some food to greet these people with when they get here. I wonder if he still has any of that Darkspear rice sitting around for his jambalaya. Pretty tasty stuff, actually, as long as the rice wasn’t sitting around trollville for too long, in which case you end up getting this weird dizzy feeling if you eat too much of it.
I was perusing this here blog and I noticed the letter you got from Lantresor. Now, readin’ between the lines here I gotta say… it sounds like that is one lonely half-orc-half-draenei dude lookin’ to get all buddy-buddy with the father of the — *looks around nervously and makes a circuit of the room listening for stealthy swoosh sounds* — youngest and most attractive of the only two lady half-orc-half-draenei girls in the world. Which makes me question his motivations, if you hear what I’m sayin’ and know what I mean.
Not that Shayari can’t handle herself or deal with unwanted attention, but… I’m just sayin’…
Also, not for nothin’, but I hear that Lantresor is a huge complainer. An acquaintance of mine worked with him for a while, and all he ever did was whine, whine, whine. “How long are we going to stay here?” And, “I miss the grassy plains of Nagrand!” Oh boo hoo hoo! Drove everyone else bonkers.
Have a good one!
–Khizzara.
Oh, PS: I dropped a buncha flowers off for Gurtash. Wish I could do something more, but as a mage I’d probably only make things worse. And as a goblin, I might uh, make him explode. Kinda counterproductive for the healin’.
Yeah, that Lantresor guy is…
Hang on.
…
<thinks>
…
Oh FUCKING HELL, SERIOUSLY?
I… he… you mean… HOW THE FUCK OLD IS THAT GUY, ANYWAY?
I’m… suddenly feeling a strange craving for dead ogres.
Wait, that would mean giving Jorin the satisfaction. And not for anything, but I refuse to live in a universe where Jorin Blackeye—erm, I mean Deadeye… is validated.
And yet.
Fuck. Rock and a hard place.
HANG ON HANG ON HE’S ON HIS WAY HERE TOO, LIKE SOON AND SHIT.
Dammit. If he’s out cruising for half-orc, half-draenei action… maybe I can pull a bait-and-switch on him? I wonder if Garona’s doing anything this week. I could invite her to attend whatever reception I end up stuck holding for these people and really lay it on thick about how much I’d like her to be there and OH SHIT NEVER MIND THAT’S JUST GOING TO GIVE HER IDEAS.
Fucking hell, this parenting shit isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. UGH.
I apologize for disturbing you, when as your loyal subject it should be my duty to relieve your stresses, not add to them, but I have a delicate question for you. (by the way, could you please appoint us Blood Elves a Regent? I got a rude note from someone calling himself “Bob” saying you had named a Lord Invincible to the post, but I’ve never seen him . . . ?)
Anyhow, I . . . met a girl. Cat. Woman. Druid. Ummm, she’s really really beautiful, and she loves it when I pet her, and she purrs when we take naps in the sunlight, and we love to just stare into each others’ eyes when she’s a cat. Not a small cat, a big black panther. But anyways, I met her as part of trying to research help for my . . . not quite alive condition. She’s with the Cenarion Circle, and I guess they had a grudge against orcs for killing Cenarius, only he’s not dead anymore so that’s ok, I hope. We started spending time together, and slaughtering murlocs, and I found out that when we’re together I can feel my heart beating again. Umm . . . is it ok that she’s a Night Elf? We stay at her cave in Moonglade when I’m not on assignment, so she won’t disturb any members of the Horde.
Hopefully,
–Sintra E’Drien of Silvermoon.
Ps. Shouldn’t Loktar Ogar mean something more like “My Victory, Their Death!”?
I… Hang on, when did this mailbag turn into the fucking Dating Game?
So hold it, Sintra, are you seriously asking me to sign off on you shacking up with a freaking NIGHT ELF? I mean, I already had ENOUGH of a headache just recently dealing with Mokvar’s human chick, and as far as I can gather SHE’S at least his EX-wife, as opposed to whatever the fuck you have going on that’s just in the early magical bloom of insert-your-greeting-card-bullshit-romantic-cliche-here.
And so, on top of the night elf part, she’s a druid, and from the sound of it you spend most of your time together with her in cat form? And you’re still technically dead… and… I don’t even KNOW what the fuck that is, like now you’re just doing the backstroke around a giant cocktail glass loaded up with some spiritsforsaken concoction of bestiality and (reverse?) necrophilia and disloyalty and furry and OMG. I mean the only part of that whole damn part of it that I can sign off on is the whole “slaughtering murlocs” thing, because let’s face it, who’s not down for good wholesome murloc slaughter? Other than the murlocs, I suppose. But who knows, maybe not. I know if I were a murloc, I would fucking hate me.
Hang on, though.
Jog my memory here, Sintra… aren’t you a blood elf chick? Because if so, and she’s… that might…
<thinks>
No. No. Never mind. Sticking with the dead-murloc-lone-highlight position. The end. Turn the page. Ahem.
I’ll be in my bunk.
[Keep those letter coming! Send e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the form below. Next mailbag July 6!]
