Tag Archives: lemon squares
#500 GIANT-SIZED (not really) ANNIVERSARY (kind of) SPECIAL
Okay, people, I know we’ve got a hell of a lot going on these days on a whole bunch of fronts, but let’s get our damn priorities straight and take a moment to APPRECIATE THE GODDAMN AWESOMENESS OF ME.
Why, you ask? AS IF YOU NEED A REASON. But okay, fine, be that way. Even though you should already be in a constant state of awe over your Warchief, today marks an EXTRA SPECIAL awesome, awe-inspiring, awful… wait. I think I just took a wrong turn there.
…
IT’S A SPECIAL GODDAMN OCCASION IS WHAT I’M SAYING.
Reason being, the post you see before you marks the 500th BLOG POST here on the Warchief’s Command Board. That’s right, bitches, 500 posts — that’s FIVE ZERO ZERO. Go ahead and count ’em. I KNOW YOU WON’T.
But that’s where we are, people — 500 installments of EVERYBODY’S FAVORITE BLOG EVER. And riddle me this: have you read them all?
Yeah, me neither.
I mean, there were a bunch in there by guest posters like Spazzle and Mokvar, and I like those guys and everything, but not enough to actually give a shit about what they have to say about… like… anything. But whatever — like trees falling in the forest with no one there to hear them, those guests posts still… um… make a… sound when they…crash the server and… um… that is…
OKAY, THAT ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME A LITTLE, TOO. I MAY OR MAY NOT BE WORKING ON A COUPLE DRINKS, OKAY, SO STFU.
Anyhow. I’d like to thank all my loyal readers, and say that I couldn’t have done it without you. I’d LIKE to say that, but I can’t, because I totally could have. Let’s be real, scrubs, I’m the awesome one here, not you. THERE’S A REASON WHY YOU’RE READING MY BLOG AND NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, NOW ISN’T THERE?
But still, the occasion calls for something special, so in keeping with this month’s theme — I DO have a Poetry Challenge in progress, after all — I figured I’d take a look back at a 500-stack of EPIC the only proper way EPIC gets done:
That “LOK’TAR OGAR!” that I blogged for a starter;
I met D&U, but my wyvern’s way smarter;
Krom’gar dropped a bomb, but I dropped his ass harder;
EO gaming, “why fly” malaprop.
Twilights on a mission for that Cho’gall demon;
Ogres versus Grimtotem, and Magatha schemin’;
Johnny Awesome, beat it; Garona, keep dreamin’;
Saurfang took a turn watching the shop.
That time I went AWOL, then I was recovered;
Grabby Mylune hugged me till I damn near smothered;
Garadar reunion with my long-lost mother;
Year one challenge, rhymes of locks in socks.
Mom was just a cruel trick Magatha unraveled;
Trouble for Forsaken; Tirion’s endless babble;
Head to old Southshore thanks to FUCKING TIME TRAVEL;
Human Faranell’s a paradox.
Psycho!Mylune rampaged, eyes more wild than dewy;
Edwin fucked the past up; all the timelines went screwy;
We straightened them out; Theramore went kablooey;
Went to Karazhan to spin some tunes.
Pandas showed up teaching how anger is managed;
Got myself some trainees: DPS advantage;
Someone ganked Mokvar; he ankhed and wound up bandaged;
Rolled up on Pandaria with my goons.
Gurtash started drawing; Vol’jin stopped his breathing;
Cloudfall spoke of destiny and got me near believing;
Mokvar met Magatha, that one had me seething;
He went off the grid — he’d best run far.
Lor’the’whatsit’s bitching still; I got pounced by Tak;
Snagged the Divine Bell; that’s when Jaina blew her stack;
DPS got lost, but I (mostly) got them back;
Meet my daughter, Shay. (Have a cigar.)
Shay’s mage class was hard, her sucker punch was hardest;
Mokvar reappeared with green fire from the Black Harvest;
Gurtash got blindsided, we were down an artist;
Made an offer Blackfuse can’t refuse.
Green-eyed wolf named Golmash acting pretty fishy;
Gurtash still needs training not to be so squishy;
Utvoch got promoted, but I kinda wish he
And Dontrag weren’t always so confused.
EPIC VERSE and lemon squares, endless reader mail;
Ruekie getting ruekied; eternal minion fail;
Mortimer’s a badass; Shayari’s hunting sales;
Earth Online guild chat is always strange.
FYV; #LadiesLoveMe, ’cause they’re not slumming;
Trolls are always trolling, dumbasses are dumbing;
500 down so far, a thousand more coming!
Okay, maybe. Times could always change.
EPIC VERSE!
Keep checking in, people. The EPIC DROPS are only just warming up.
LOK’TAR!
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!]
LIVE BLOG: Ask Garrosh Anything!
Here we go! As promised a few days ago, tonight the Warchief of the Horde (current or former, depending on how you count, because timey-whimey), Garrosh Hellscream, will answer any questions you’d care to throw at him! If you can see this post, then the floor is now open for questions. You can submit your question to the Warchief through any number of means: as a comment on this post, an e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com, a tweet to @GarroshHllscrm, an inquiry posted to Ask.fm, or a message through Garrosh’s Facebook or Google+ (feel free to add him on any and all of these, by the way!).
As I’ve noted before, there are a few simple ground rules for questions:
- No spoilers! Garrosh’s blog incarnation is currently living out the events of the Patch 5.2 timeframe. If you’d like to include some sort of comical nod or foreshadowing toward future events in your question, feel free! But questions explicitly referencing events that have not yet occurred in the blog will not be answered.
- No anonymous questions will be answered. You can submit your question under your in-game character name, a blogging pseudonym, a Twitter handle, whatever, but there must be an author to whom your question can be attributed.
- This should probably go without saying, but no questions will be answered that are clearly engaged in harassing, trolling (not you, Bob), antagonizing, or generally disregarding the fun intentions of the endeavor. Questions that seem to disregard, willfully or accidentally, the fundamental premises of the blog (check here for the basics, here if you’re feeling ambitious) will either be ignored or, perhaps, answered in a…derisive manner.
How it works: The live blog proper will begin at 8:30 PM EST (give or take a few minutes). All questions will be added to this post. Refresh this page periodically to check for updates! I expect some responses will come quickly, while others may take a little longer, depending on what sort of response is called for.
While I will never alter the substance of your question, I reserve the right to make minor edits to correct errors (i.e., you refer to Spazzle when you clearly mean Gurtash) or to delete something spoiler-ish from an otherwise good question.
I plan to keep going for as long as I have questions that I think will be interesting and entertaining to answer, so keep them coming! While I plan to try to answer as many questions as possible, I make no guarantee or promise that any individual question will get a response (i.e., I reserve the right to pick and choose which one I answer). When the blog is finished for the night, Garrosh will explicitly announce that, so if there hasn’t been a “Good night, everyone!” type of statement, you can assume there’s still more on the way.
So, with all the quasi-legal technicalities out of the way… Get to it! Ask away! Answers to begin once ol’ you-know-who makes his glorious arrival…
* * * * *
HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Brace your mind and hold on to your ass, because it’s time for yours truly, the one-and-only GARROSH HELLSCREAM, to answer ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU WERE AFRAID TO ASK. Except I guess you weren’t. Because you asked them. SO NICE JOB NOT BEING A BUNCH OF FUCKING PANSIES RIGHT OUT THE GATE.
Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here. Keep ’em coming as you think of ’em…
What do you consider your biggest non-combat achievement? –Zugzug
There are non-combat achievements?
I kid, I kid. Well, not really. But whatever, I should still come up with a kinda-real answer.
You probably wouldn’t see this achievement coming, but: First runner-up in the seventh annual Garadar chili cook-off. Which was amended to first place after… well, something unfortunate happened to original-winner Grok’nar. (My best to his widow.) (And I do mean my best.)
See, this might come as a surprise, but your Warchief isn’t half bad as a cook. As a matter of fact, one of the things I had to get used to when I became Warchief was having OTHER people cooking for me. I was never used to having other people serving me. Just felt weird. Still does. Even up in Northrend, I usually chipped in on odd chores around Warsong Hold if I didn’t have more urgent things to do — as much as I was tough on the troops up on there, I think it was kinda good for morale for them to see I didn’t think I was too good to get my hands dirty with the stuff I was asking them to do. Anyway, every so often I would sneak into the kitchen and help them whip up a few things, even then. I actually found it pretty relaxing. Well, except for Saurfang and his damn picky menu. No pork my ass.
Warchief Garrosh Hellscream,
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible, killing my son, forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks, it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number, has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned – and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing, according to my informants (who shall remain nameless). In short, she has revealed herself to be an enemy of the Alliance and a liability to the Horde, of wich you are warchief.
So my question is: What are you going to DO about her?!
With all due respect,
–Genn Graymane, King of Gilneas
Does anyone smell wet dog in here, or is it just me?
Oh, wait, it’s Genn. He must have picked up that stink from hanging around Varian all day.
Anyway. Let’s take this a little at a time:
After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible,
Sounds like a good start.
killing my son,
That’ll teach him to keep his guard up.
forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage
Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.
and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks,
Not seeing a problem so far.
it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number,
Your grasp of current events as of like eight years ago is impeccable.
has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned –
The WHAT you say?
and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing,
Holy fucking shit, is THAT where that motherfucker went?!
according to my informants (who shall remain nameless).
I… okay, hang on. Here’s where you’re starting to chase your tail. So to speak. Okay, so you’re telling me, SOME PEOPLE, who YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHO THEY ARE OR HOW THEY KNOW THIS SHIT, BUT OH BOY BELIEVE ME, THEY SURE KNOW WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT, these people tell you blah blah blah Sylvanas? And so…you’re asking me, what, if I’m going to lay the smackdown on her or something? And, say, go attack the Forsaken or some shit, who by COMPLETE COINCIDENCE happen to be the same people who KICKED YOUR ASS, only now I’m going to go after them because OH NO YOU DON’T LIKE SYLVANAS?
Well, get in line, chief. Nobody likes Sylvanas. Other the people who are already dead, but that’s their damage. And for real, I’m not going to break off one chunk of the Horde and go stage, what? a civil war or some shit against ANOTHER major part of the Horde, just because I think their leader’s kind of a jerk.
Come on, who’s going to be a big enough asshat to play THAT card?
Do you have a sure fire cure for head aches? –Toka
The only one I’ve found that works pretty consistently is that once Dontrag and Utvoch get going with their damn yammering, and going on and on about whatever the fuck they’re saying, and the headache starts kicking in, you watch them pretty close — I know it might hurt your eyes a little at first, but hang in there, you’ve gotta push through that part — and then when you see them position themselves good and close, you reach over and smack their heads together good and hard. I can’t stress this enough: you can’t be shy about really putting a good CRACK into cracking them together. Then, worst case scenario, they’ll usually shut up for a little while, or better yet at least one of them will lose consciousness for at least an hour or two. Plus when they come to, seems like they end up suffering some really killer headaches themselves, which, you know, poetic justice. SMACKED DOWN BY IRONY, BITCHES.
Of course, if your particular headaches aren’t D&U related, I don’t know what to tell you. <shrug>
Do you believe in ghosts? —@RuekieShaman
I… Hang on.
You’re asking me…if I believe in ghosts?
Rook, what planet do you live on? We have an entire fucking FACTION of the Horde that keeps ghosts around as fucking bankers and shit. Every been to Stratholme? Scholomance? Like fifteen other places I can think of right off the top of my head? Dude, I had the ghost of my MOM following me around for a few weeks like a year ago! Where have YOU been?
So you know what? Let me see your “do you believe in ghosts?” question and raise you this one:
Do you believe in goblins?
What do you do to relax? –LazyPeon
Well, let’s see. Writing the ol’ EPIC VERSE can be a good way to unwind, unless I write myself into one of those corners where there’s something I want to say but I can’t come up with something that rhymes with “orange,” because who the fuck had the bright idea to invent a word that like NOTHING rhymes with. And when I have a little down time between meetings and missions of conquest and, you know, tax audits and shit, back when I was starting as Warchief, I used to sneak in a few games of cribbage with Eitrigg. Only that old guy was way too good at that game, so he usually won, and that wasn’t exactly so great for my mood. Lately I’ve been trying to teach Malkorok how to play, but I mean, he’s good at his job and all but overall he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and so I end up having to repeat myself a lot, and re-explain things, and that pisses me off a lot, too. Pretty much the only thing I can think of that I found consistently relaxing, actually, was doing some barbecuing, or whipping up a big pot of something, but like I was saying a few questions ago, since becoming Warchief I haven’t had that much of a chance to do much cooking myself. So there goes that one.
Um. So I guess the point is that apparently I have a pretty fucking stressful life. Thanks for reminding me, peon. Fuck.
What are you going to do when Shay wants to date? What if it is the Black Prince? Or Prince Anduin? –Zugzug
I…
…
DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT SHIT
ESPECIALLY THE LAST PART OF THAT SHIT
WHICH IS SHITTY SHIT EVEN BY SHIT STANDARDS HOLY SHIT
…
The fuck is WRONG with you people coming up with this stuff?!
So…excuse me a minute. I think I need to go sharpen Gorehowl.
[OOC aside, because I love to tease: There is an upcoming comic, already written and partially sketched out, involving Shayari bringing a prospective boyfriend to meet Garrosh. Yes, really.]
Out of sheer curiosity, any other pastry loves *besides* lemon squares? —Aranya Ver’sarn
Lime squares. A pale imitation, but they’ll do in a pinch.
I have also been known on occasion to pick up one of those giant chocolate chip cookies and spend the afternoon strolling around Orgrimmar munching while I’m doing my business. One of my prouder moments, actually, was one time when I was doing that, and D and/or U, whoever the fuck because who even cares enough to remember, started bugging me about that shit, and I actually managed to knock him out by smacking him over the head WITH the giant cookie.
So, you know, that’s…wait for it…the way the cookie crumbles. (THAT’S RIGHT, GARROSH GOT JOKES)
Has anyone turned down your lemon squares, and did they survive it? How successful were they among the draenai ladies? —@SintraEdrien
You know, I don’t usually get in the habit of running around OFFERING the lemon squares. People are much more likely to come rolling up on me ASKING for them, especially since word about them leaked onto the internet, and from that point, hoo boy, every motherfucker with an Azeroth Online account figured they could just hit me up for a sample, because when you make the internet easy enough for any fuckhead to use, every fuckhead will.
Where was I?
But…no. I can’t think of anyone who ever turned down the lemon squares. Even with as much fail as I have surrounding me in a usual day at the office, even THOSE failures don’t fail enough to fail to notice the lemony awesomeness of Greatmother’s recipe. I would guess if they did they would pretty definitely find a way to screw up their chances with the draenei girls. I, on the other hand, rarely have problems when I offer some sweets to the ladies, draenei or otherwise, seeing as, y’know, #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh.
Hang on. Is Shay reading this? Where’s that delete key again? SPAZZLE!
How much do you weigh? –Jordyn
7’2″, 340 lbs. of pure muscle.
And bone.
And sinew.
And…internal…body part…um… organs and… kidney stones…erm… YOU GET THE POINT.
As a leader, what are the toughest decisions you have to make? Lok’tar Ogar —@DonnerB123
The toughest ones, no surprise, are the biggest ones. Which pretty much come down to decisions of life and death. Like…literally, who to kill and who not to kill. Really brief cases in point: there was that time a was back (and some of you people might not even have been reading here when this was going on, which raises the question WHY THE FUCK NOT), when me and Mokvar and a few others were trapped in this alternate timeline where Dranosh Saurfang was still alive…only pretty much the only way for us to save the Horde was for me to pretty much kill him. On the other hand… every day, here in Orgrimmar, I’m surrounded by the Dontrags and Utvochs and Lor’themars and whoever the fuck elses, one annoying fucker after another griping about nuisance after nuisance…and I have to decide NOT to kill them. Because reasons. I guess.
We live in an imperfect world, DonnerB123. An ugly, imperfect world.
So . . . I simply can’t seem to get the hang of this: Is it Dontvoch and Utrag, or Dontut and Vochtrag? My head hurts . . . —@SintraEdrien
Nobody knows, Sintra. Nobody fucking knows.
Would you ever want to return to Nagrand? —@Malkorok_
Oh, hey, Malk. Taking a break from reading that Cribbage for Fucking Idiots guide I gave you, huh?
Anyway… Would I want to return to Nagrand, like to visit? Sure. I’ve been back a couple times to see Greatmother. Not for a while now, granted, but still. So yeah, it would be nice to see the old place again, one of these days, when things calm down.
Return for good, though? Doubt it. Nagrand’s always going to be home, mind you, but my life is in Azeroth now. The past is the past, and all that, and you can’t go back. Well, you can, but, you know…well, don’t remind me. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.
When are you finally going to get married? —@Greatmom_Geyah
Oh, hey, check out the timing there. I was just talking about you, Greatmother.
And…yeah. Okay, Greatmother, look. We’re all adults here, so I’m going to be real with you. You know the old saying, right? Why buy the cow, when you literally have dozens of hot women of every description lining up around Grommash Hold for a chance to take turns at…
Hang on.
Is Shayari reading this or not? Can somebody go check on this for me? Seriously.
Warchief, watch out for elven ships around durotar… Your habit of antagonizing the idiot in charge of Silvermoon could have repercussions, now that they’re stockpiling Mogu weaponry. Possibly Forsaken ships too, you KNOW those two are in bed. Figuratively. Though maybe this is the elves ending that? What do you think about this? –Ritaba
Okay… I’m not sure if this is actually a question, but… Let me put it this way, Ritaba. Ask me again how worried I am about Regent-Lord Hair-Care rising up like an avenging demon (*chortle*) and rallying his wrathful people (*guffaw*) to unleash a blood wave of vengeance on me.
Yeah. Like zero…
Dear Warchief- could you pleeeease appoint us a leader? Ever since the last Sunstrider went wacko on us, we’ve been lost… —@SintraEDrien
…aaaaaand here’s case in point as to why.
What is your favorite place in all of Azeroth? –Orgrimmar Travel Agency
You know what? You probably wouldn’t guess this, but Mulgore. I really like Mulgore. Reminds me of Nagrand a lot — rolling plains, open skies, all that kind of thing.
Honorable mention for weekends and vacations: What happens at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace, stays at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace.
Least favorite: Ashenvale. I hate Ashenvale. For multiples reasons, most of which revolve the same fel-forsaken part of it.
Warchief, I must know,
Much is known of the Kor’kron’s activities in Pandaria, and the Blackrock clan’s work in Orgrimmar and abroad. But what of your Warsong clan? They have been inactive since the Cataclysm, as far as anyone can tell. Do you have any big plans for them coming up? –Grottee Metalbeard, goblin shaman
Now see, I can understand how this could have caused some confusion. Because yeah, the Warsong clan came with me up to Northrend, and they represented a big chunk of our forces when I was in command up there. And then in the time right after the Cataclysm, they were pretty active in Ashenvale (which is not, I might have mentioned, on my list of Favorite Places Ever). And so, yeah, since then, I can see how it might look to you like they’ve gone fairly inactive, but that’s just because the clan hasn’t been operating as much as a singular force. See, before I became Warchief, I was chieftain of the clan, so they represented the main bulk of the forces under my command. Now, though, I have ALL the orcish clans under my jurisdiction, so there isn’t as much need for me to be lining up jobs for the Warsong specifically. They’ve been keeping busy, just not in a way that makes you go “the Warsong orcs are doing THIS over THERE.” Some of them were part of Nazgrim’s detachment heading down to Pandaria, a lot of them have been recruited into the ranks of the Kor’kron along with more than a few Blackrocks, others have been assigned to some other operations I have going on around Orgrimmar. So they’re just getting around more. Spread the love! And by “love,” I mean, of course, “bloody fist of retribution.”
If Varian begged for mercy would you? a: mock him, b: cut off his head, c: take over SW, d: all of the above —@SintraEDrien
Sorry, I can’t get past the first five words without cackling maniacally so hard I fall out of my chair.
Heh. Heheh.
HAAAAA!
What’s your earliest memory? —@LibFeathers
You know, my VERY earliest memories aren’t really specific memories of particular events, just the sort of odds and ends that most people remember. My childhood in Nagrand, obviously — I can remember back, vaguely, to when I was around five or so. My mom was still alive then, so I remember her, and I remember us fighting through the red pox as best we could…which, let me tell you, SUCKED. There was the pet clefthoof I had back then, y’know, before meat supplies started getting thin that one winter, and there was me getting to be friends with Dranosh. We hung out a lot back then, fishing and hunting and stuff — me and Dranosh and Jorin Deadeye, actually, back before Jorin turned out to be a dick. Um… probably my earliest memories of specific events all revolved around my mom — the day when Greatmother told me she’d died, for one. And one, a little while before that, back when the pox was still going on. I’d woken up from this nightmare, and she and I stayed up a while talking about it, and it’s nothing really momentous or even important, but it was just one of those little things that stick with you, you know? Anyway…that’s it for early memories. Not fun, I know. But like…if something’d going to stick in your head from THAT young, it’s almost always going to be something bad, right?
By any chance would you be willing to add any pandaren cultural festivals to be acknowledged? Brewfest does not count. —@ShenWeiPureblossom
Funny coincidence — you should totally go talk to Ji about this. I’ve heard he was talking to some of the other pandas about carrying over some custom you guys had on your wandering turtle island whatever-the-fuck is was, some kind of outdoor festival with noodles or something? Check in with Lunchbox about this, he could probably use a hand setting it up. Hell, I might even try to whip something up myself for it, if it happens. Like I’ve been saying, it’s been too long since I got in the kitchen.
[More OOC teasing: This is indeed on the way. In the not-too-distant future, the Pandaren Noodle Festival comes to Orgrimmar, in a comic/transcript featuring… well… almost the entire damn supporting cast.]
Hail Warchief Hellscream! It has been some time since I have found the time to reply to your writings as things have been quite busy up in Hearthglen lately. Especially with the arrival of his gracious young Highness, Prince Anduin, while he convalesces at Mardenholde for a time. Something about a bell, if I recall. Anyway, onto the question before I tarry on too long.
I had heard from a rather reliable source who would prefer anonymity that some months ago, you suffered from an invasion in Orgrimmar. Was this true, and what occurred? —Tirion Fordring
Oh geez…here we go. Well, at least T-Ford managed to keep it under 5000 words.
So…yeah. I don’t know if I would call it an INVASION, but… a little while back, yeah, there was…an incident. This goes back a few months… May, I think? Anyway, I’m hanging around in Grommash Hold, right? Just minding my own business, plotting world domination, same ol’ same ol’. A regular day at the office. When all of a sudden, out of like NOWHERE, these gnomes start running into the place. And at first, I’m like, DAMMIT MALKOROK, how about some security up in this piece, but then I see the sheer NUMBER of them — there’s hundreds of these motherfuckers. Maybe even THOUSANDS of them. Which, if you know how I feel about gnomes, was just filling me with a level of glee that could have wiped out all life in the universe.
Thing of it is, this wasn’t some actual invasion or ATTACK from the fuckers down in Gnomergan, or…wherever they fuck they’re living these days. The part of Gnome-ville that’s not fucking glowing from radiation and shit. Anyhow, THESE gnomes are all like…the noobiest, weakest, saddest little excuses for underpowered gnomes you’ve ever seen — and seriously, do you KNOW how fucking SAD someone has to be for me to be forced to coin the phrase “underpowered gnomes”?
And so in they come, in sheer numbers too big for the guards to stop them all on the way in — though, believe me, if you saw the trail of bodies you’d know they fucking TRIED — and they come flooding like rats into Grommash Hold, only if they were rats I might actually worry about it more because FLEAS. And here’s the punchline — when they finally got close to me, you know what they’re big finishing move was? They all kept trying to hug and kiss me. Like my foot or some shit. Until I popped a bladestorm, and, you know, eight trillion dead gnomes.
Which is a beautiful way to line up four words, I gotta say.
Do you like to dance? –Jordyn
Draw your own conclusions.
Do you think that maybe Mokvar and Deliana were ever married in a previous life? They seem so . . . together. —@SintraEDrien
DUDE, I don’t know WHAT the fuck to think about those two. Would it SURPRISE me? No. I am WAY past the point where fucking ANYTHING could surprise me around here. So much weird shit has gone on around here the last few years, I consider NOTHING off the menu. Mokvar and that human chick married? Sure, maybe. Half-draenei daughter from years back turns up at the front door? Why the fuck not? Ji Deep-Dish floats around in a fucking balloon and gets his pudgy ass stuck in a honey tree? Sounds normal to me. For real, man, at this point fucking Draz’Zilb the ogre could show up riding Onyxia, who’s been reanimated for like the forty-seventh time as far as anybody can count, with Anduin on a leash dressed like in a bear suit, and when Draz belches Anduin’s been conditioned to tell a knock-knock joke, and my reaction would be “Yeah, sure, why didn’t I see it coming?” WELCOME TO AZEROTH, WHERE THE BOTTOMLESS CUP OF WHAT THE FUCK FLOWS FREELY IN ALL DIRECTIONS.
Warchief, I really loved your poem about your pet clefthoof, it really brought a tear to my eye. Could you please share another sample of your EPIC VERSE from your childhood back in Garadar? –Khizzara
Hmm… okay, let me dig out the old journal and see if I can find something for you. Now, keep in mind, my poems back in those days weren’t nearly as polished, but let’s see…
Okay.
There was a little orc
Who ate a little pork
Over in the breakfast nook
And when he was bad
He wished that he was good
Cause Greatmom’s got a mean right hook
EPIC VERSE!
Wait… that’s… yeah, that one maybe doesn’t come off looking so good.
Um… I’ll see what else I can find.
When will you ever figure out that the constant stream of adventurers coming to annoy you about gold were sent from me? —@M_Grimtotem
OH FUCK YOU, MAGATHA
So for anyone who missed this, a ways back, Madame Upright Hamburger here stirred up some shit on Twitter, where she went on about having hidden a stash of gold somewhere in my damn throne room, and offering it as a giveaway to anyone who could find it. Which set off a borderline-noob-gnome-like influx of random motherfuckers running into Grommash Hold and trying to turn the damn place upside down looking for the loot. So finally, FINALLY, after Malkorok and his people rounded up and fucking executed like I don’t even know how many of these people, my throne room stopped being the hot spot for random asshats to go hang out. You know, aside from the random asshats who hang out there professionally. And before anybody starts getting all excited, let me reiterate: THERE IS NO TREASURE HIDDEN IN MY THRONE ROOM, OKAY? Seriously. The last thing I want to have happen a little ways down the road is like another ten or fifteen or twenty-five random people to come running through into my command room expecting to collect loot.
What’s the latest between you and Zaela? —@MyGarona
Look, Greatmom, I’ve told you, stop trying to… wait.
Garona?
Seriously?
Jealous much?
Look, there’s nothing going on with me and Zaela, okay?
…
…
…that you need to concern yourself with.
<waggle>
What’s the deal with people thinking Mokvar and I are a couple? No matter how many times I try, I can’t convince ANYONE! —Deliana Hawthorne
Because, see, Lor’themar can say he’s a dude, and he can call himself a dude, and he can stroll around all day in dude’s clothes and using all the right pronouns and shit, and he can talk himself red in the face trying to tell everybody he’s a dude, but at the end of the day, people with eyes and still look at him and see that he’s Lor’themar.
Also, who the hell let HER in here? MALK! How about some security, dammit?!
What’s your favorite tipple? Beer? Wine? Liquor? If any, what variety do you enjoy in particular? —@SintraEDrien
Holy shit, Sintra, you’ve sure got a lot of questions.
I’m pretty simple as far as my drinking tastes go. Beer and grog, a some rum on occasion. They have some pretty good varieties out of Stranglethorn, so I’ll pick up a bottle or two when I have the chance. Maybe a little cherry grog on occasion, but that’s about as fancy as I get with it. Although, you want to know who’s MAJORLY into the weird fruity drinks, like those ones that come with the little umbrellas every single time like there’s a fucking law prohibiting their sale without them, like drinking the drink has a chance of proccing rain and the damn umbrella has to be included as a fucking safety measure? Malkorok. No joke. Dude can’t suck down enough of that shit.
Your guess is as good as mine.
Why don’t you like us? We just want to help. —@Dontrag_Utvoch
…
Do you want me to get into the list chronologically, alphabetically, or in order of importance?
You know what? It’s not even worth it. It’s like…fuck, it’s like trying to explain to the damn wolf pup why you’re yelling at it two hours after it peed on the carpet. What’s even the fucking point?
Although…you know what’s funny? Check it: Damned if I can remember which of these fuckers is which, but I know, rank-wise, Dontrag is a sergeant, and Utvoch is a scout. Now it’s kinda-sorta funny that after like nine years in the Horde military, Utvoch still hasn’t managed to get promoted above the absolute lowest possible rank there is. Like, the day you show up, they make you a scout, and here he is a decade later and he’s STILL only managed to keep himself half a rung up from peon.
So that’s good for a chuckle. But you want to know the disturbing part? Back when I first met General Nazgrim, in Northrend, dude was rank sergeant. So that means that until I took over and started doing promotions and reassignments, fucking DONTRAG AND NAZGRIM WERE THE SAME DAMN RANK.
On the other hand, I suppose we don’t know for sure that Dontrag COULDN’T steer a ship in a straight line without crashing it, so…
Anyhow. Okay, one more, so let’s see what we’ve got to wrap up.
When are we going to hear the rest of @Mokvar_Scribe‘s tale? The people want answers! —Deliana Hawthorne
Wait, her again? DAMMIT MALKOROK, GET ON THIS!
But, okay, to answer your question:
Starting…NOW.*
That’s it for questions for tonight. Thanks to all of my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS for contributing, and to all of my enemies who came by, FUCK YOU ALL BUT THANKS FOR THE PAGEVIEWS, NOW HIT RFRESH A FEW MORE TIMES THEN CROAK.
I’m out, people. More soon.
* * * * *
*VERY soon, in fact — as an added perk for those of you who’ve stayed this late into the going, well…count to ten, click back to the main page, and rejoin the ongoing tale of Mokvar, Garrosh, and more!
Meanwhile, for those of you coming late to the party, don’t worry, you haven’t missed your chance to pose your questions to the Warchief — there’s always his monthly mailbag! Next edition coming March 2! Feel free to e-mail, or use the handy-dandy form below:
Monday mailbag
Okay, people, it’s been WAY too long since I’ve dipped into the ol’ mailbag, and I have a HUGE backlog of letters, so let’s get right to it, shall we?
The Feast of Winter Veil is approaching, and it made me think. What do you hope to get from Greatfather Winter this year? Do you have any special family traditions? I look forward to seeing Orgrimmar all decorated for the festivities.
Happy Holidays!
–Lorewalker Shara
PS you may want to avoid using tinsel to decorate around Mortimer, unless you like festive poop! Might be a good idea to keep Taktani away from it too, thinking about it.
Hey, Shara, thanks for writing. Hopefully Orgrimmar is looking all Winter Veily these days. I’ll be back for a check-in soon, but I’m probably only going to make it back to town JUST in time to catch the end of the festivities. As for my wish list… I remember addressing this point a couple years ago, and most of the stuff on that list still stands – especially Varian and Magatha’s heads on pikes – but there are a few more things I can think of that I might add to the list for this year.
- An actual explanation that makes sense for what the hell was going on with Mokvar while I was away.
- A wireless network here in Pandaria that’s actually reliable, so I can log onto Earth Online without it being a fucking comedy show.
- An on-site goblin tech guy who can maintain that network without the whole thing going kablooey and spitting out two burnt pieces of toast every time there’s a breeze, because let me tell you, Grizzle Gearslip ain’t happening.
Come to think of it, so far all of these could pretty much be covered if I could get a bunch more Spazzles. Because really, as much as I clown on the guy, he actually knows what he’s doing and gets shit done, and unlike half these other jokers, I don’t have to worry about him running around behind my back doing spirits-know-what. So, other additions to the list:
- A scribe that doesn’t have traitorous tendencies, a busted-up writing hand, or the disposition of a six-year-old on a sugar high from eating all the Hallow’s End candy EVER.
- The secret to controlling the sha.
- A First War commemorative chess set. This is the normal-sized, less creepy version of the chess set Medivh had over in Karazhan. It’s been rumored to be in the works for years, and I’ve finally started to see them showing up on ebAH. Yes, I play chess. Don’t act all surprised, for fuck’s sake.
- Varian’s head on a pike. Did I mention this one?
As far as having family traditions for Winter Veil…not really. I mean, keep in mind, Winter Veil is a pretty recent thing for us Mag’har. We didn’t have Winter Veil back in Nagrand, so we only started picking it up at all after Thrall came out to Garadar a few years ago. Greatmother Geyah really has taken a liking to it, but that’s about it. Plus, not to get maudlin and shit, but it’s kind of hard to have family traditions when you don’t really have a family. I mean, I never knew my dad, and my mom died when I was young. I’m an only child. As far as I know. Assuming Grom wasn’t a bigger pimp than anybody’s given him credit for. Anyhow, point being, Greatmother is pretty much the only family I’ve got nowadays, and even SHE’s not a blood relation – she’s just the one that raised me after Lakkara died. So, yeah. AREN’T YOU HAPPY YOU BROUGHT THAT UP? BET YOU FEEL PROUD.
I am in desperate need of your assistance. I approached Regent Lord Lor’themar with my issue but he said that it was beyond his scope and directed me to contact you.
I recently inherited a house and it is in terrible need of redecoration. You have done a great deal of renovation recently and I was wondering if you could give me some tips to make my house look amazing. Attached is a picture of the house.
Thanks,
–Tegwin
Grats on the new house, Tegwin. Not so grats on the place looking like such a shithole. Because, yeah, that place needs some work. I mean, seriously…the wispy, billowy day-glow curtains? A bearskin rug with the bear head still attached? Strewn out there like you’re getting ready to do a photo shoot you already know you’re going to regret in five years? And… Is…is that a hookah? Just sitting there, right out in the open, in the living room? What are you, one semester removed from college and stuck with a slacker troll roommate who keeps swearing he’ll have his half of the rent this month, and this time he means it, mon, only you know perfectly well that’s not happening because felweed’s a hell of a drug?
So, okay, a few things. You have to lose the pastels, first of all. I know that probably goes against every last one of your blood elf sensibilities, but trust me on this. You want strong, commanding colors – the kind that will make people think “Holy fuck, some serious shit goes on in this place” when they walk in. Lots of reds and grays. Err on the side of darker. Go too dark with the red and you get a bloody crimson, which is still pretty badass. Go too light and you get pink. See where I’m going with this?
Mount some weapons on the walls. If you haven’t cleaned them lately and they’ve got some bloodstains, all the better. It adds to the color scheme I’m talking about, plus it conveys a message of “This person is not to be fucked with.” Spikes. You can never have too many spikes. Or skulls. Get some skulls in there. If you can carve up the body of one of your enemies and, say, make their skull into a chair for yourself, awesome. Or maybe turn their bones into an end table. A hat rack will do in a pinch. If you haven’t killed any notable enemies lately, but you’ve got an infamous foe that you really only know by reputation but somebody in your family killed, and you have THEIR remains somewhere handy, that’s just as good, because that fucker was brought down by your bloodline (AGAIN NOTICE THE BLOOD MOTIF) and you totally deserve to share credit for the accomplishment.
This is all for your living room, of course, and I know my tastes can be a little hardcore. I figured you might want to take it down a notch or two for your bedroom, so I went to Garona to get a woman’s opinion. Didn’t get very far, though. I told her I had a question about the bedroom and tried to ask her if she matches her rugs and curtains, or words to that effect, but she just got all pissy for some reason. So, not much help there. I seriously don’t know what’s up with her sometimes.
Speaking of which…
I’m writing this letter to you in secret and I hope it gets to you and I’m not killed in the process. *looks around*
It’s about Garona Halforcen. Sir, she scares the everliving shi—uh—crap out of me. *looks around again*
I happened upon some history stuff about her and now I’m all confused. She was there when the first invasion from the Dark Portal, then she had a kid with an old man, and she is half-orc, half-dradne dranin demon *looks up spelling* DRAENAI. (She looks like an orc. Smells like one too. I don’t see it.)
Now I’m all confused and sitting in a dark tunnel with a lot of thinking time had me thinking about her again.
What I want to know…*looks around*
How old is she? She’s got to be like….ANCIENT. *hides paper, looks around*
She doesn’t make sense and I don’t want to ask her. She’s scary.
–Ruekie, Shaman In Training
PS: There’s a lot of talk lately with the orc kids about the Red Pox, and if there is something scarier than Garona it’s that. I heard you had it once. Did it hurt? Can you get it again? Can we get it? Can an outbreak happen again? Too many questions and we are getting freaked out. Like FREAKED out. Really.
Okay, first of all… Um, Ruekie, you realize we were JUST in those caves all alone and out of earshot of Garona, right? Not sure why you didn’t just ask your questions THEN, but whatever. Kids.
First, the Red Pox? No, seriously, you don’t want to get into the Red Pox, that was just a bad scene all around. I don’t know why you kids would be talking about it now, but really, just let that shit die. Nobody needs to be digging up THOSE memories for anybody.
Okay, now that that’s settled, on to your main point. Yeah, I’ll grant you the scary thing with Garona. Scariest bitch I know who hasn’t come back from the dead. Although it’s probably a sad statement about my life that the list of people I know who HAVE come back from dead is a lot longer than you would figure. Because – I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before – NOBODY STAYS FUCKING DEAD ANYMORE.
Anyway, here’s the deal with Garona. Yeah, she’s half orc, half draenei. Back in the day, Gul’dan bred an orc and a draenei to create a personal assassin – enter Garona. Yeah, she looks mostly orcish, but I guess these racial mixes are kind of a crap shoot as far as which race’s physical traits you get.
Anyhow, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure exactly when Gul’dan actually orchestrated her birth. I know it was definitely before the Dark Portal opened, and that was about 30 years ago, but before that, there was a window of about 20 years when Gul’dan was up to some Really Bad Shit, so the breeding experiment could have happened anywhere in there. Let’s shave off the first couple years to give Gul’dan time to come up with this idea and for Garona to be brought to term. That would mean that Garona would have to be anywhere from, say, 32 (She’s not. Seriously. I’m 35. There’s no damn way she’s younger than me.) to around 48 or so. Anywhere in between, your guess is as good as mine.
Hang on, though – this gets more complicated when you add the fact that Gul’dan had Garona aged magically so that she could get right to work, no childhood needed. Swell guy, huh? Anyway, the age of adulthood among orcs varies a little from clan to clan, usually somewhere from 13 to 15. (Yeah, I know, kid, can you believe it? Technically you’re an adult. Hard to imagine you’re a grown-up, huh? Well, let me clue you in on a little secret: That thought won’t stop seeming weird for another 20 years.) So that would mean, however old Garona is according to the calendar, she really has the body of a woman 13-some-odd years older. So now we’re looking at a physical age putting her somewhere between 45 and, like, 60-something. Which is kind of a big deal when you consider that 70 is about as old as you could reasonably hope to live as an orc, even if you do a perfect job taking care of yourself.
Oh, but hang on, we’re not done yet. It’s about to get more complicated. (Don’t look at me – I didn’t make this shit up.) Because, see, since Garona has that draenei half, her aging is even more fucked up. Draenei live for…like…forever. I mean seriously, I think the average draenei lifespan is something like “infinity minus twelve.” So you mix THOSE genes in with our good, wholesome “70 if you’re super lucky” orcish genes, and…well… You’ve got a woman who’s technically, like, 40, only with the body of a 53-year-old, only not really because 53 doesn’t mean anywhere near the same thing to the draenei part of her, so…um… Who the fuck knows?
She’s old, okay? Only she’s kind of not. Only she is. Whatever – you go figure it out. Meanwhile I’m going to go check around the room and make sure there aren’t any whooshing sounds coming from the corners.
The following is written in elegant, but slightly shaky, cursive script on pale peach-colored parchment paper
My dear little Roshy,
How are you doing? I have missed you. It’s beautiful here in Nagrand – we’re having the most glorious late-fall weather. I hope all is well in Orgrimmar.
Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend? Sounds serious too… She has been sending me letters telling me about how deeply in love you both are, and has included many pictures of you with little hearts and flowers drawn on them. She says you’re getting married in the spring? Why didn’t you mention it? You would think you’d keep your own family informed, dear. We’ll have to have a little chat the next time you visit. You are coming home for Winter Veil, are you not?
Also, you should take some pictures of the two of you together. And perhaps find a new photo studio. These look like they were printed on magazine paper instead of proper photo paper. I can’t properly frame them for display, especially not with the lipstick kisses smeared all over them.
All my love,
–Greatmother Geyah.
Hold on, hold on, what… how the… it… GODDAMMIT, SOMEBODY IS FALSIFYING RECORDS OF THEIR WARCHIEF, and…and… Oh fucking hell, now I’m going to have to go out there and explain Photoshop to her. It was bad enough when I had the bright idea to try to show her the internet. Nothing in my e-mail for two months but forwarded pictures of wyverns asking for cheeseburgers. And WHO is this woman who’s…ugh. You know what? I don’t even think I want to know. Even though I can probably think of a couple likely suspects.
Now I’m just imagining somewhere in Orgrimmar there’s a dim, candle-lit room with walls covered by pictures of me, and…no, no, don’t even go any further with that, Garrosh. That way madless lies.
And now on top of everything, I have to squeeze in a trip to Nagrand before Winter Veil totally runs out on me, or I’m never going to hear the end of it. Ugh. Maybe I’ll bring Gurtash, and see if I can maybe distract her a little with the cute kid factor. Or Ruekie? I bet she’d like Ruekie. Plus Rook might want someplace to hide anyway, what with her probably having Garona out for her head as soon as this post goes live.
Very good to hear you have escaped the Saurok caves unharmed. The Horde would be in a very dire position if we were to lose our leader.
I do have one question. Have you ever thought of asking a mage if they could manage to conjure lemon squares? I have no complaints, but the same old sticky buns are a bit tiring after some time (not to mention they turn stale and hard as a rock after some time sitting in a bag). Perhaps you should collaborate with my wife? I am sure she would be very good to collaborate with, or maybe another mage closer to your location.
Regards,
–Shen-Wei Pureblossom
Thanks for writing, Shen-Wei. You know, I HAVE thought of this lemon squares angle before, but here’s the thing. First off, there was a point around this time last year that I really thought Gija down in the Cleft of Shadow was on to something, but the problem is, lemon squares don’t really lend themselves to conjuring, apparently. I mean, you can abracadabra up some pastries that are sorta, KINDA in the same ballpark as lemon squares, but you can tell they’re not the real thing. It’s like the drop-off from real leather to that fake shit that the damn DEHTA hippies try to pass off and think they’re fooling anybody. And once you’re used to eating the real thing, I mean, come on. It would be like going from having me as Warchief to, I don’t even know, a fucking TROLL or something.
Second of all, having spent my whole life eating those lemon squares, let me tell you, we don’t need mages recreating Greatmother’s recipe, because IT’S ALREADY MAGICAL. (See? See how I’m already working on smoothing things over with her? For real, I’m so fucking diplomatic you could just shit a brick.)
Also, even setting all that aside… Nothing personal, but I don’t take anybody up on any suggestions that include the phrase “perhaps you should collaborate with my wife” ever since the Incident That Shall Not Be Discussed over at Tharl Stonebleeder’s house. Now stop making me think about things that cannot be unthought. MOVING ON.
Rumors are flying that there is a red pox outbreak. Is this anything like the scourge?
–Kelytas, Blood Elf Paladin, Borean Tundra
Wait, again with the Red Pox? No! We’re not going to talk about the Red Pox. Why the fuck is everybody so curious about the Red Pox all of a sudden?
I really enjoyed that Photo-Op you had with King Varian a while ago. I couldn’t help but notice that King Varian had a wonderful tousled-Anime-pigtail thing going on that was at the same time sexy but tough, and you…well, you just look cranky.
I checked in with the Couturier Barbershop in downtown Orgrimmar and was quite frankly shocked at the dismal array of hairstyles available. An up-swept Mohawk with a scarf? Are you kidding me?
I know you might have a couple of things on your plate right now but seriously, you really need to look into this before the entire Horde start looking like extras from Naxxramas.
Maybe you could contact King Varian, find out who does his hair and we could have a Stylist Exchange with one of our Barbers so they could learn some new hair techniques and bring back the Glory of the Horde.
I also noticed that our Tailors are in desperate need of new patterns. Malevolent-style silk pantaloons? Really? That is so last-season…
–A Concerned Fashionista Blood Elf
Lor’themar, is that you?
Yeah, let me get right on that. I’ll send a special diplomatic courier right over to Stormwind with a note that says, “Who does your hair??” Yeah, that would go over great, I’m sure.
Hmm. Actually, come to think of it, a message like that would probably seem SO weird to Varian that it might fuck with his head a little. Like, I can totally imagine him reading that and thinking, “Garrosh wouldn’t give a shit about my hair…WHAT IS HE UP TO?” And then he gets all paranoid and shit. And meanwhile I’m just sitting back and not doing anything, and the longer this goes on the more paranoid he gets – ESPECIALLY when it’s time for him to go to the barber, because, hey, THIS IS WHAT GARROSH WAS ASKING ABOUT. And maybe he gets so messed up and suspicious that he stops going to the barber altogether, and his hair grows and grows, and finally he’s just got this total mess of a rat’s nest on his head, until maybe he eventually can’t stand it anymore and shaves it all off and ends up bald. Same as me.
There you have it, ACFBE. Problem solved. Garrosh comes out ahead of the curve yet again. Boom.
I’m studying Orcish History at school and need to write an essay. I thought I’d write about the Red Pox and it’s impact, and I thought it would be neat if I could quote you on the subject, if you don’t mind.
I know it was a terrible illness, but there aren’t any first-hand records that I’ve been able to find. What was it like to live with the Red Pox? Do you remember much from those years? Did you notice any major differences between Orcish society as a whole and the way Orcs lived in Garadar? Pretty much anything you can remember would be great.
Thanks!
–Anonymous Scholar, Orgrimmar
Okay, so at least NOW I have some idea of why everybody’s got the Red Pox on the brain this week. So okay, fine, just this once I’ll talk about it, seeing as I’m probably one of the only Red Pox survivors a lot of these kids will have the chance to meet.
It sucked.
What, you wanted more? FINE.
I’m not going to waste time going over the symptoms, because there must already be records of that, and I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants to spend our lunch break reviewing my childhood vomiting habits. But yeah, I had it as a kid, and even setting aside the physical suffering of it all, I can’t stress enough how much of an effect it had on the culture of Garadar. I mean, you asked if there were any major differences between Garadar society and orcish society as a whole? Fuck, what WASN’T different? The Red Pox hung over our whole culture. It touched everything. We had whole generations who were born and died – prematurely, granted – under the bane of that thing. That was the worst part of it, really – the sense of resignation it left us with. It was like, for a lot of us, there was this sense that the Red Pox came for our grandparents, and then it came for our parents, and now it’s going to come for us.
Over the years, our shaman kept working to find a cure, and every so often there would be a glimmer of hope that maybe they had something. But then there would always be some disaster that would undo it. After a while that became part of the gloom and doom of it – the shaman would come up with a new possibility, and you never quite stopped hoping, but deep down you were thinking, “Okay, let’s see what fucks it up THIS time.” Even when they finally did find a cure, and the suffering could finally end, a lot of us couldn’t even quite believe it was really happening.
Adding to all this, by the way, was the fact that over in Telaar, the draenei had their own parallel illness going on for a while. It was called the lank distemper – or the “Lanks,” as a lot of folks ended up calling it. Basically an infection that caused severe dehydration and loss of appetite, so the afflicted would wither down to these scrawny shadows of their former selves. Sometimes the two diseases would flare up as if they had a contest going to see which one could kill more victims. Which made for some miserable times for everybody involved. Believe me, for anyone who was living through it, you do NOT want to get them started on the whole Lanks / Red Pox rivalry.
Is that enough? Are you happy yet? Or do I need to relive the time the conjured healing sphere rolled between Bullrok’s legs and into the lake, too?
Winter Veil is here! Time for a great orc cheer! Lok’tar!
I am so looking forward to making cookies and milk for Greatfather Winter this year with my new cooking skills I learned from Pilgrim’s Bounty holiday. I may even add some lemon squares to add some extra favor. I’m really hoping this year he’ll give me a ferocious armored bloodwing with exotic leather saddle for riding. That would be so cool! (Sigh, I’ll probably end up with another copper racer though.)
What are you hoping for Winter Veil this year, Mr. Garrosh sir?
Varian on a spire tree?
Blood and thunder!
–Ruekie, Shaman-Still-in-Training
PS: Greatfather Winter looks awful familiar, but I can’t quite figure it out. Kinda like Mr. Saurfang, but that would be impossible…I think. (Nothing is impossible with Mr. Saurfang.)
PPS: Winter Veil holiday is a great time for eating. Try no to eat too many lemon squares, though, sir. It doesn’t take much to make your muscles look like marshmallows. D:
Bye!
Wait, Ruekie AGAIN? When the hell is she writing all these letters? Fuck, maybe I should hire HER as a scribe, if this is how fast she can crank out pages. Anyway.
So also, before we get into anything else…hang on, you want a BLOODWING for Winter Veil? A frigging BAT? All of a sudden, a WYVERN isn’t good enough for little miss tornado-pants? You’ve seen Mortimer in action, up close and personal, and you’ve decided, “Nah, let’s give the universe a sporting chance – keep the wings, take away all the parts that really make the wyvern badass, and replace them with a giant blind rat”? Are you KIDDING me?
I already answered the part about what I want for Winter Veil a few letters up, so no need to get into that again. And I’m not going to dignify the lemon squares thing with a response. But I have to comment on that thing you said about Greatfather Winter. You know, one thing that people always say about Greatfather Winter is that there’s no way the guy could possibly fly all around the world and deliver presents to everyone in just one night. Well, I think you might have found the one gaping hole in that theory. So, next time you find yourself in an argument with some skeptic who doesn’t want to believe in Greatfather Winter, just unload this one on them:
“I’m telling you, there isn’t enough time for Greatfather Winter to do all that! It isn’t physically possible!”
“What if Greatfather Winter is really Saurfang?”
“Oh… Um… Well then.”
I hear you had de red pox, mon. On dat game Earth Online dey has a disees call chicken pox. Es dat de same? (What do chickens haf to do wit dat?)
Dey say in dat game, once you hav it, you cannot get et again. Yah, mon, you are now invisible to dat disees, like de lich king’s horse. Dat is good news!
Cheers, mon!
–Bobbette, Out der somewhere
…
Okay.
So.
I am beginning to get the very distinct impression that I may be getting trolled.
What’s dis I be hearin’ about da Red Pox breakin’ out again? It be all anybody be talkin’ ’bout dese days! If you get it, does dat mean ya turns red? I remember seein’ some red orcs back in Hellfire Peninsula, mon, was dey havin’ da Red Pox? Dey go from green ta red? Don’t get me wrong, mon, I don’t want nobody gettin’ sick, but if dere be anudda outbreak, look on da bright side – all dat red an’ green togetha be lookin’ nice an’ festive for Winter Veil!
–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery
I hate you. I really, truly hate you.
Excuse me, Warchief, I write to you from Dustwallow marsh, I came here to see if I could find test subjects for a new flamethrower, and found something much more interesting, there is this mysterious woman on the road to the ruined theramore (hah!) and she seems to be able to send me back in time to look at theramore and the swamp before theramore was destroyed, I went to sleep at mudsprocket and woke up in present day. She seems upset that I was killing humans as soon as I was there, and refuses to send me again.
–Ritaba, Mudsprocket
Wait, wait, hang on. Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that there’s someone hanging around Dustwallow Marsh sending people back in time to Theramore before we blew it up? As in, making it possible to totally sidestep our whole victory and interact with the place like it was before? That… fucking hell, THAT DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT OF US BLOWING IT UP IF YOU CAN FUCKING DO THAT!
You know, this has the Bronze Dragonflight written all over it — or at least it WOULD, if it weren’t for the fact that this is PRECISELY THE SAME KIND OF SHIT they they’ve been recruiting people to PREVENT for years now, and by the way didn’t I just march through like 50 miles of steaming shit over their whole “integrity of the past” deal last year?! But hey, apparently it’s NO BIG DEAL when you’re talking about Theramore, right? SURE! WHY NOT? Hey, how about I zip on back to the past and start fucking with shit too, because I GUESS THAT’S ON THE MENU NOW, RIGHT?
Fucking dragons. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL!
UGH!
I have been reading the history of Pandaria, and discovered something no one has bothered to take note of, seven burdens of Shaohao, the story of how the last emperor of Pandaria defeated the six sha and locked them away in a poor fashion (He couldn’t have kept them from causing havok any time someone gets cranky?), and there are older writings indicating a beast with seven heads, perhaps there is a seventh sha never recorded, it could be the key to controlling them.
–Yinsun, Vale of Eternal Blossoms
Now see, THIS is an example of some research that might actually be useful. You might be on to something there, Yinsun. It DOES seem kind of fishy that we have this story about Shaohao and his seven burdens, and this seven-headed thingamabob, and then we only have six sha that we know about. It’s definitely worth considering whether we’ve got one more sha on the loose that nobody’s thought of. (Hell, I was even bouncing ideas about this around with some people on Twitter a little while ago.)
For anybody keeping score at home, we might as well start with the basics. Right now, we’ve got six sha accounted for: the Sha of Doubt, the Sha of Anger, the Sha of Despair, the Sha of Violence, the Sha of Hatred, and the Sha of Fear.
So, okay, let’s suppose there’s one more out there. Since the sha we know about all seem to be named for pretty major negative emotions or vices…hmm…let’s see, what do we have left for major negatives?
There could be a Sha of Greed, I suppose. Although…I mean, we have goblins with us, and I have to figure if there were a Sha of Greed, people like Grizzle Gearslip would be setting the fucker off left and right. The Sha of Jealousy, maybe? Makes sense on paper, but again, you’d figure we’d be having outbreaks all over the place, seeing as we’ve got a base full of people who’ve been watching me stroll around day after day. And you KNOW the peeps get jelly when they feast their eyes to the pure awesome that is yours truly, amirite?
So we’re kind of running out of major vices to pair up with the missing sha. What else is there? Free-associate, Garrosh… hmm… the Sha of Gluttony? The Sha of Sloth? The Sha of Anteater?
Hang on…I think that line of thought took a wrong turn on me somehow.
Maybe we’re going about this wrong. Time to think outside the box a little. For all we know, this last sha could be kind of a niche sha, something more specific and less…well…grandiose. Which might explain why this one might have been able to fly under the radar all this time. So, let’s see, what else could be out there as the sneakier, subtler bane of our existence…
- The Sha of Social Awkwardness
- The Sha of Small Talk
- The Sha of Poor Table Manners
- The Sha of Bad Penmanship
- The Sha of Bad Spelling
- The Sha of Typos (possibly related to above)
- The Sha of Not Picking Up After Your Wyvern
- The Sha of Repetition
- The Sha of Redundancy
- The Sha of Telegraphing Bad Jokes
- The Sha of Walking Really Slowly in Front of People at the Mall
- The Sha of Paper Towels with Inexplicably Strong Perforation So You Try to Snap Off One Square and End Up Yanking Out Half the Roll
- The Sha of Telling the Same Story Over and Over and Over Again Even Though Yes I Already Know How You Met Eitrigg Okay Tirion
Okay, you know what? This is going nowhere fast.
Wait, wait, hang on a second… I could swear I HAVE seen another sha somewhere.
HOLY FUCKING HELL THAT’S IT! THE SHA OF HAPPINESS! Come to think of it, I even remember seeing this fucker on Twitter! Fuckin’ A, I KNEW all those annoyingly happy assholes like Mylune were up to no good! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.
Okay, that’s going to do it for this time, but keep those letters coming. You guys really stepped up to the plate with this batch of letters, so you know what that means — THE BAR HAS BEEN RAISED. So keep it going, and I’ll try to be back with more wise words soon. Handy form included:
Exit strategy
So the good news was that it didn’t take very long for me to find Gurtash. He dropped a pretty long way down, but not particularly far, so tracking him down wasn’t too big a production. Other than him being shell-shocked from getting an owie on his hand, or whatever the hell else was making him all jumpy all of a sudden.
The bad news was that it WAS a pretty long way down, so getting back up to the other trainees was going to be a giant pain in the ass, especially considering I had a kid in tow who wasn’t going to be good for much first-hand climbing. Luckily there were a bunch of ledges and outcroppings on the way up that were pretty much within range of a good heroic leap. Which, yes, by the way, I can do straight-up vertically, because I’m fucking OP that way. Anyhow, a few jumps and we were almost there, but…well, you know the old saying about the last step being a doozy. A couple more feet and we would have been all set, but, hey, you know me. Even dangling from a great height, I always try to look for the positive.
So once we finally got past the clown shoes portion of the proceedings, we were finally able to make it to the opening Giska spotted and escape to the surface. We came out in a rocky area near a lake, where we had the joy of another batch of saurok who were only too happy to stop their fishing trip to make trouble. And promptly get their asses handed to them. Stupid lizards.
By this point it was starting to get dark, so we made camp in the wilds for the night. I figured once the kids had a chance to rest up, we could start making our way back to Domination Point.
And, speaking of getting back to business, I think it’s been way too long since I’ve dipped into the ol’ mailbag, so consider this your last call to contact your Warchief about all your burning questions. Cue the handy-dandy web form for those who have an irrational fear of e-mail…
Strange bedfellows
So I’m going to spare Gurtash having to draw like ten pages of action shots and bottom-line this for you: it took a little doing, but Varian and I were able to beat down that sha that sprung up out of where-the-fuck. Which shouldn’t come as much of a surprise – I mean, really, anyone who thought I would be writing this to inform you we’d been fucking KILLED, take a step forward. Then take another few steps toward the nearest steep ledge and just fucking kill yourself, because seriously, too stupid to live.
Anyway, once the sha was out of the way, we got back to the much more important matter of beating the shit out of each other. Check it out, though – we weren’t even five minutes into round two when ANOTHER sha popped up out of nowhere and had something to say. So we had to drop everything again and take care of the sha. Fucking rude, if you ask me.
Anyway, we polished off this one and got back to business. For a few minutes, anyway, until – can you believe this shit? – ANOTHER sha showed up. At which point it was way past rude getting to be just plain annoying.
Now, if it depended solely on pinhead Varian, we probably would have been going round and round like that for-fucking-EVER, but because your Warchief IS indeed the sharpest tool in the shed, after this pattern repeated itself another, like, eight or nine times, I realized that it was our fighting that was causing the sha to keep spawning. Feeding off of our anger and hate and…well, really, let’s just call it the whole damn sha cocktail.
So, on the up side: Now we knew how to keep the damn sha from rolling up on us over and over.
On the down side: I had to put a (temporary) stop to adding to the human’s scar collection.
Seriously, do you know how fucking DISTASTEFUL it is to be stuck in a room with Varian and not be able to punch him in the face? (Note to Genn Greymane: How the fuck do you DO it, man?)
Seriously. How, Genn, how?
Anyway, that went on for a little while. At least the trainees weren’t within earshot most of the time, so I could give Varian an earful. Otherwise I’m liable to GET an earful from Orphan Matron Battlewail whenever I get back to Orgrimmar, what with the giant bone she has to pick with me about swearing so much around the kids. Because, yeah, in situations like these, watching my language should TOTALLY be one of my priorities, right?
Anyhow. Whatever. After fuck only knows HOW long with Varian playing the role of “annoying little bird sitting on Garrosh’s head and pecking away verbally,” I finally managed to get him talking enough to find out how he ended up down there – after the battle at the temple, word got back to him that his soldiers had chased some orc trainees into the wilds, and he went out to join in the search. Something about making sure his people didn’t get “overzealous,” whatever the fuck that means. Anyway, while he was scoping out the area he managed to fall down one of those cracks in the ground, same as I did. Idiot. So here he was.
I’m not sure how long we were stuck there basking in the glow of each other’s delightful company, but eventually Giska came running in with a scouting report. Apparently there were noises coming our way, and so she snuck off to check on it all stealthy-monk style, and, come to find out, there was a handful of humans heading our way. Because hey, why not, right? Was there anybody NOT in these caves at this point? Who knew the fucking saurok caves were party central around these parts? Hey, maybe fucking Koltira Deathweaver was down here too – mystery solved at last!
So, fast forward to the humans arriving, the initial “Holy shit, it’s Garrosh!” moment (RECOGNIZE, BITCHES), and the clusterfuckery of getting them to cool it before we got an in-person reminder of what’s black and white and tendrilly all over. From that point, the humans huddled off to themselves, but I managed to listen in on bits and pieces.
I guess these newest arrivals had found the main entrance to these caves, up in the heart of Saurok Town, and had gone in searching for King Chin. From what I can gather, they had to make their way through a shitload of saurok activity. Seems over the last couple hours, the saurok had been spooked by the appearance of a bunch of creepy black monsters (GEE I WONDER WHERE THOSE COULD HAVE COME FROM), and now it looked like they were getting what passes for shaman in lizard-land to do some kind of rituals to close off these caves altogether with earthquakes and cave-ins and shit. So that spurred the humans to pick up the pace looking for Varian, and look at that, they found him safe and sound, because things always work out nicely that way so long as your name isn’t fucking ME.
Luckily, the humans had a mage with them. I say “luckily” there, because for some reason I thought, hey, cool, mage portal, we can all just pop the fuck out of here, only I didn’t realize that APPARENTLY mages can rig their portals so they can only be used by the people they WANT to use them, because I guess mages are FUCKERS like that. So I guess the “luckily” was, in fact, only “luckily” for them, as opposed to a big juicy serving of UP YOURS for me and the kids.
And of course, class act that he is, Varian couldn’t resist sticking it to me on his way out the door. Portal. Whatever.
Cheat Sheet
As promised in my last post, here’s an overview of the state of the blog. I realize that after two years of accumulated in-jokes and storylines, the Command Board may be a bit disorienting to a newcomer (or, for that matter, to a long-time reader who blinked at the wrong time), so I’ve tried to break this down into a semi-sorta-kinda FAQ. Most of this will be familiar to long-time readers (though I’ve also included a few behind-the-scenes notes that some of you might find interesting), but I hope it’ll explain a few things for new arrivals.
I hate Garrosh! Why does Garrosh seem so sympathetic in this blog? Are you one of those Garrosh apologists/fanboys?
Comically enough, I originally started the blog because I really didn’t like Garrosh either, and saw the blog as a way to have a few chuckles mocking him. It wasn’t long, though, before I decided that I would get sick of the outright-mockery approach pretty quickly, so I started branching out. Part of the result was letting blog-Garrosh become (I hope) a bit more multifaceted, while still remaining true to his temperamental self. Including the LOLs.
Ultimately, I don’t set out to justify anything Garrosh does, just to present it in a way that makes sense in light of the character, and if that pushes a black-and-white scenario into some shade of gray, well, that makes for a more interesting story anyway. And, keep in mind, the story here is being told, generally, from Garrosh’s point of view, so I don’t know how that perspective wouldn’t be sympathetic. Everyone is the hero of their own story, after all, and nobody thinks they’re a bad person.
Why isn’t there anything here about the siege of Orgrimmar?
What are you talking about? There was a post titled “The siege of Orgrimmar” a good solid year ago – if anything, shouldn’t you be asking why Blizzard is coming so late to the party? (By the way, I didn’t realize until just now that patch 5.4 was released almost exactly on the one-year anniversary of the “Siege or Orgrimmar” post. How awesomely freaky is that?)
Anyway, to give a real answer: Time-wise, the blog has not yet reached the events of patch 5.4. The storyline is currently playing out the midst of 5.2; Lor’themar Theron and Jaina Proudmoore have recently set up shop on the Isle of Thunder, while Vol’jin is still recovering from his injuries at Shado-Pan Monastery.
This time lag between the game and the blog, by the way, is partly by design. I’d always intended the blog to run a bit behind the game; coming into MoP, I realized that if I tried to follow in-game events too closely, I wouldn’t have time to adapt my own ideas to fit Blizzard’s story. There have already been a few instances in which Blizzard’s story has taken a turn that’s forced me to change gears in a way that would have been disastrous if I didn’t have a month or two of lead time. Of course, I’m clearly more than a month or two behind – that’s been a result of various real-life circumstances slowing down my output over the last few months. I’m working on it!
So the blog basically retells in-game events, from Garrosh’s point of view?
Yes and no. The blog operates within Blizzard’s continuity (with the aforementioned time delay), but also weaves additional storylines in and around the canonical Blizzard plots. Anything that happens or is stated explicitly in-game is canon, obviously, and the blog is bound by it.* That said, I sometimes like to put other stories around Blizzard’s, to give them context that might change the way those events are perceived. (This was a large part of my motivation for the Timequake story leading into Theramore, or, more recently, the blog events surrounding the Divine Bell / Domination Offensive storyline.)
Also, while the point of view is mostly Garrosh’s, there are some posts that present events from other perspectives. Most notable are the “guest” posts by Spazzle (Garrosh’s tech goblin), which help fill in story details that Garrosh wouldn’t necessarily be privy to. You can always identify a post written by someone other than Garrosh by the color of the text – Spazzle’s posts, for instance, are always written in green text, and almost always include the phrase “Spazzle Speaks” in the title. Also, as a rule of thumb, when Spazzle et al post, Garrosh remains oblivious to anything that might be revealed; the conceit at work here is that Garrosh doesn’t really care what anyone else is writing, so he doesn’t bother reading it.
* The one instance that I’ve flat-out fudged in-game details is the way I’ve chosen to incorporate the events of “A Little Patience.” From the Alliance point of view, that scenario takes place almost immediately after Varian arrives in Pandaria; in the blog, I’ve pushed those events a bit later in the story. This was largely a matter of convenience: I knew that I wanted there to be a military operation in Krasarang in which Garrosh’s trainees went missing, and I realized fairly late in the going that “A Little Patience” lent itself to that story pretty readily. Hopefully those Alliance-side readers out there will be willing to turn a blind eye to my blatant and shameless revision. (Horde bias rears its ugly head again! GRR!)
Garrosh has trainees? When did that happen?
Right here! As part of the escalation of the war effort, the Kor’kron started a training program to prepare orc teenagers for eventual military service. When Garrosh learned that Gurtash – an orc boy from the Orgrimmar orphanage whom Garrosh had taken under his wing – had been conscripted, Garrosh volunteered to take Gurtash’s trainee group under his own supervision. (Side note: In my head-canon, Garrosh has a bit of a soft spot for the orphans, being as he is one himself.) The trainees, who have nicknamed themselves the Dead Peons Society (DPS for short) have accompanied Garrosh to Pandaria and joined him on a few adventures. Fairly recently, they went missing after the Horde loss in the “A Little Patience” scenario, and were eventually found by Garrosh, hiding away in an underground system of caves. That’s brought us up to the point where we are now, story-wise: Garrosh and the trainees underground, looking for a way out.
Is the entire supporting cast from within the game?
Mostly, but not entirely. I’ve invented a few characters for the blog – Spazzle being the highest-profile – but I’ve tried to keep it limited, and tried to restrict those characters to fairly peripheral positions in the lore. The one glaring exception was the storyline involving Garrosh’s mother, Lakkara, who isn’t mentioned anywhere in the actual lore. It just struck me as odd that there’s no record of who she was, or what happened to her, and besides, in a mythology packed to capacity with father/son relationships, I thought it was about time somebody’s mom got a little screen time.
Otherwise, when a character turns up who doesn’t exist in-game, that character was often inspired by a reader and/or based on someone’s game character. For instance, both Gurtash and Mortimer (Garrosh’s personal wyvern) became blog characters thanks to mailbag letters from Khizzara from Blog of the Treant; Khizzara’s own namesake has made a few appearances as Spazzle’s cousin; doodle-prone kitty druid Taktani became a full-fledged character (and boy, is she ever a character) after making several mailbag contributions; and many of the DPS trainees are modeled on the baby orc alts of friends.
In general, though, if you see a supporting character turn up whose name you don’t recognize, the smartest first guess is that he or she is based on a questgiver or other NPC somewhere in-game. (Wowpedia is your friend!) I deliberately picked a lot of relatively minor NPCs – people like Mokvar, Elder Cloudfall, and Dontrag and Utvoch – to use as supporting characters because I figured their relatively peripheral status gave me more latitude to work with them, give them backstories, etc. After all, what are the odds that Blizzard would actually do something with one of these people to contradict my own concoctions?
(Either way, if you’re not sure who someone is, I’ve also maintained a partial list of supporting players on the About the Blog page, including some of the more pertinent information about them.)
Speaking of which – in the SoO raid, Mokvar is a mini-boss! Isn’t he missing? How are you going to deal with that?
First… um, yeah, that whole “no way they’re gonna do something with this guy” really blew up in my face on this one, huh?
And second… So, everyone who thought I was going to lay out this big storyline for Mokvar, and make such a production out of his disappearance…and then have it turn out that he really is dead…step forward.
Didn’t think so.
For those of you unclear on Mokvar’s whole story, which has been unfolding gradually for quite a while, you can check here for a brief overview and links to the relevant posts. Very short version: After becoming the victim of a mysterious attack, Mokvar sets out to track down a powerful relic from his warlock days, with the aid of a human named Deliana (who was Mokvar’s Alliance equivalent in the old dungeon set quests); over the course of his quest, he starts to behave increasingly strangely, culminating in his eventual flight from arrest in Orgrimmar. His whereabouts are now unknown.
Stay tuned. You’ll see where this is going!
With Mokvar gone, how are you handling the transcripts?
Prelinimary: The blog contains several transcripts of conversations that Garrosh has engaged in. The premise from the outset has been that Mokvar is (or was) Garrosh’s personal scribe, and records all these conversations for posting. This explains, by the way, a number of occasions when Garrosh mentions summoning Mokvar to an event, or otherwise noting Mokvar’s presence, as a way of leading in to a transcript.
Since Mokvar is off the grid, Garrosh has passed transcription duties to two people: Gurtash, who records his transcripts in the form of comics; and Taktani, a friend of Dontrag and Utvoch and long-time mailbag contributor, who’s started to (and will continue to) write a few transcripts, laden with her own unassuming brand of commentary.
What are these guild chat logs that keep cropping up?
Garrosh and several of the supporting characters play an MMORPG called Earth Online – the basic premise being that, to these characters, Azeroth is reality, and our real world is actually the game world of the MMO. Garrosh started his own guild, called <Warchief>, and several familiar faces (including Spazzle, Sylvanas, Lor’themar, Faranell, Garona, and Dontrag and Utvoch) are members. Also worth noting is that Jaina Proudmoore is a member of the guild…although she doesn’t realize (yet?) who her guildmates are in “real life.”
The guild chat logs recreate some of the exchanges that the members of <Warchief> have within their game, usually including regular guild chat, officer chat, and, in some cases, whispers. I make no pretense about the fact that some aspects of these logs are based on my own guild-chat expeiences, especially officer chat. The transcripts are always presented from the point of view of whoever posted them – usually Garrosh, but occasionally Spazzle.
Where did this whole thing about lemon squares come from?
Garrosh loves lemon squares. Don’t you?
Real explanation: Very early in the blog, Edenvale of The Gamer’s Fridge posted a recipe for Garrosh Hellscream’s lemon squares, and pointed me to her post with a comment on the Command Board. Since then, it’s become a bit of a running gag – the recipe, according to Garrosh, was his greatmother’s secret family recipe, and he was most perturbed that this random night elf had apparently gotten ahold of it.
What does “FYV” mean?
An abbreviation of one of Garrosh’s favorite turns of phrase, of course: “Fuck you, Varian!” Among other things, Garrosh often finds a way to slip that phrase into his EPIC VERSE compositions.
Speaking of which, what’s this “EPIC VERSE”? Garrosh writes poetry?
You sound surprised. Garrosh is an orc of many interests. What, do you think he’s some kind of one-note caricature or something?
Okay, fine, game-Garrosh kind of is.
Honestly, I just got a kick out of the obvious dichotomy of Garrosh Hellscream, gruffest of the gruff, also writing poetry on the side. True to form, Garrosh doesn’t view his compositions as just any poetry, so he prefers to call them EPIC VERSE. In caps. Always. It’s sprinkled throughout the blog – almost always in purple text, to stress its epic-ness – and ranges from limericks, to parodies of other famous poems, to reader requests, to epic rap battles.
So, that’s as much as I can think to cover. Other gaps can probably be filled in through the Major Storylines page, but if there are questions that anyone still has, in terms of getting caught up or clarified, by all means toss them into a comment and I’ll make sure it’s answered. And so, on that note, I’ll sigh off with the promise – unconditional promise! – that before the week is out, you’ll have the continuation of the actual STORY part of the story! Which left off, as you might recall, right here:
Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge: EPIC VERSE live blog
Those of you who were reading the blog last year at this time will remember Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – when, in honor of National Poetry Month, I called upon my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS to give me suggestions for a whole slew of EPIC VERSE masterpieces. You all stepped up to the plate (well, those of you who were here at the time…and for those of you who weren’t, WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?), and we had a month full of EPIC VERSE goodness.
This year, as I announced a couple weeks ago, I’m continuing the Poetry Challenge tradition with a live blog. Yes, that’s right, it’s the SECOND ANNUAL Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – sure to be an annual tradition for years and years to come.
For tonight’s lyrical explosion of spontaneous awesomeness, I’m once again calling on you all to inspire your Warchief. Here’s how this is going to work: when this post goes live, you’re all invited to use the comments to post your ideas and suggestions – you can give topics, themes, characters, turns of phrase, ANYTHING you think might make for a good starting point to give me ideas for what I’m going to write. (Try to keep your suggestions here in the comments, rather than Twitter/Facebook/wherever, so your fellow readers and I can see them all in one place.)
Starting at 8:00 PM EDT, I’ll begin the live blog by adding to this post. At that point, I’ll start composing a new EPIC VERSE masterpiece (or masterpieces?) based on the suggestions you’ve given. Feel free to keep offering new ideas as we go along – I might incorporate new suggestions into the poem I’m writing, or maybe use them for ANOTHER new poem before the night is out. We’ll just see how it goes. In any case…once the live blog has started, keep refreshing this page. I’ll be adding to the post incrementally as I write, and you’ll get to watch your Warchief’s latest EPIC VERSE composed right before your eyes, in progress.
Kind of like getting to see how the sausage gets made. If the sausage was made from the ground meat of the SUPER AWESOME UBER-BEAST RAISED IN THE PARADISE FIELDS OF GENIUS AND FED A STEADY DIET OF SOLIDIFIED PERFECTION AND BADASSERY.
* * * * *
Okay, kids, the show’s about to begin. I’m going to take a moment and take a look at what we’ve got for suggestions so far, and maybe give the latecomers a minute or two to get their initial suggestions in before I get rolling. Keep the ideas coming as we go, and I may still work them in as I’m able…
Remember, keep refreshing this page to watch the live blog unfold in progress.
* * * * *
The Dontrag and the Utvoch came
To celebrate the season,
And brought such pain to any brain
Imbued with any reason.
The Dontrag and the Utvoch asked
The Warchief for permission
To undertake — for sure, half-baked —
A Noblegarden mission.
The Dontrag and the Utvoch told
The Warchief of their plan:
To gather eggs from hopping legs
That bounced around the land.
The Warchief, for his part, approved,
And told them to proceed.
(He thought, of course, the only source
For this could be felweed.)
The Dontrag and the Utvoch ran
Across the Four-Winds Valley,
And high and low sought eggs to go
Into their final tally.
Then near a burrow, D&U
Saw wrigglin’ and squirmin’,
When to the ground, with mighty bound
Leapt out a giant virmen.
The Dontrag cried, “Move fast, Utvoch!
Don’t let it run off! Grab it!”
For sure, he thought, they had just caught
The Noblegarden Rabbit.
The Dontrag and the Utvoch pounced
And lunged with all their might —
Though in no story was their quarry
Such a daunting height.
They found the Rabbit’s fury one
That not a one surpasses,
So by the end, their hoppy friend
Had badly kicked their asses.
The Warchief, when the pair returned,
Was unsure, sad or funny,
Which best to say, to know that they’d
Been beat on by a bunny.
The Dontrag and the Utvoch mused,
“At least we didn’t die.”
And down they sat on asses fat
And dined on humble pie.
EPIC V—
That was weak.
…
The FUCK? Who the hell is this?!
What, you still don’t recognize me, Hellscream? I thought you were good at spotting me online now.
Wait, don’t tell me this is— Hang on.
SPAZZLE!
What’s up, boss?
The likelihood of me drop-kicking your green ass back to the Lost Isles, for starters.
That’s it. Throw another hissy fit and alienate even more of your own people. That’s a formula for success.
Oh…oh no. Don’t tell me Varian broke into the blog again.
OH I’M TELLING YOU EXACTLY THAT, MOTHERFUCKER
Have you considered anger management classes, by the way?
What the hell happened to the SECURITY thingywhatsises you were supposedly building into the blog, like, FOREVER ago?
Ugh. It must be that wireless connection you have down there. I TOLD you Grizzle didn’t know how to set up a reliable network above the level of aluminum cans and some string.
Goddammit. Well try to get him out of here, will you? I’ve got a live blog to do.
You mean this exhibition of fail? Hah. I couldn’t pass up the chance to look in a watch you make an even bigger jackass of yourself than usual.
Hey, don’t be jealous just because I actually know how to string a few words together, human.
Actually, you know what? Go ahead and be jealous of that. Also of all the fans I have, who’ve turned out to bask in the brilliance (BACK ME UP HERE, PEOPLE). And, oh yeah, of how much smarter and better-looking and all-around more awesome I am.
Hellscream, I haven’t done any writing since I was a kid—
I notice you’re not counting your own blog there.
—but even I could do better than these dimwitted nursery rhymes you’re spewing out.
You know what, asshole? YOU’RE ON. Let’s see what you’ve got.
CUE THE AMBIGUOUSLY THIRD-PERSON LEAD-IN!
* * * * *
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
GARROSH HELLSCREAM
VS.
VARIAN WRYNN
BEGIN!
* * * * *
Come on, bring it, Hellscream – hope you’re ready to lose.
I’m pretty sure a basic campfire could rhyme better than you.
I’m the king! The boss! I was born to rule!
Thrall took his Doomhammer and left the orcs with a tool.
While I was ruling orc arenas with my wolf-god-modding
You were a whiny emo bitch busy whining and sobbing.
I’ll crush you, Garrosh, and add it to our duel triple feature
’Cause I’m the High King – you’re just a substitute teacher.
I’ve got no time for your Alliance propaganda,
Gonna beat you down so hard you’re gonna think I’m a panda.
You’re facing Garrosh, Lo’gosh – I was put here to pwn ya.
My dad killed Mannoroth; yours got ganked by Garona.
So the Warchief will pour grief and settle some scores:
I’m taking the lok’tar, all the ogar is yours.
No “either/or” in the fate that you deserved:
Crushed beneath the Horde – AND the one getting served.
Sure, hide in daddy’s shadow – I knew you’d bring up Grom,
I don’t remember that he ever had to use a mana bomb.
You’re on your own now, worried yet? ’Cause your lackeys you’re lackin’ –
You’re not getting bailed out now by your magnataur and kraken.
I’m coming with a gag order, I’ve had more than enough,
You’re so much talk, even your howling axe won’t ever shut up.
You’ve got a skull that’s all tiny, and your jaw’s extra large –
Between your mouth and your brain, I guess that shows who’s in charge.
You’re one to talk jaws, Chin-Boy, yours could carve out a mogu,
I’d call you Scarface but you’ve got no friends to say hello to.
Your scars and fail and ponytail – you’re like Lor’themar Lite.
I’ll bake your pride in lemon squares: here, swallow both in one bite.
You’re defensive, apprehensive; I’m offensive, gone berzerker –
I bet Tiffin cut you off, that’s why you had to screw your workers.
My rhymes are terse and yours are worse, so curse and next time go rehearse,
Now FUCK YOU, VARIAN – that’s
EPIC
fucking
VERSE
<drops mic and walks away like a boss>
…
* * * * *
WHO WON?
WHO’S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE!
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
[Thanks for coming, everyone. More weirdness soon…]
Wibbly wobbly, timey whimey
We arrived at the Caverns of Time just a short while ago. Soridormi greeted us on arrival, and I let her take the rest of the group on the tour of the place while I made a lemon squares delivery. Like I mentioned, the big guy really loves his pastry, to the point that he actually has a couple of personal bakers right here in-house. Turns out Nozdormu was still off somewhere busy, so I dropped by the bakery to leave the goodies with his bakers, and figured while I was there, what the hell, I might as well leave them a copy of the recipe. Maybe win a few bonus points that way. I wound up hanging out with them there while I waited for everyone to get back. Not sure what to make of those two. I mean, they seemed happy enough to take the recipe, and one of them, Tom, seemed really cool. Awesome guy. Can totally see him being the kind of dude that everybody loves. Colin, though…I don’t know, he just seemed like kind of a dick.
Anyway, after everyone was done having a look around the place, Nozdormu came out to see us. Eventually. I’ve heard that’s kind of his pattern. Even after the tour, he took his sweet time showing up. So we were just stuck sitting there a while, me and Mokvar going through his notes to catch Liadrin up, and meanwhile Dontrag and Utvoch (yes, I brought them, it never hurts to have a couple low-grade flunkies around for the heavy lifting) managed to kill some time flipping coins. In which, by the way, it looked like Utvoch really took Dontrag to the cleaners. Or maybe the other way around. I still have trouble keeping them straight sometimes.
Anyway, eventually Nozdormu got his scaly ass out to see us. You should have seen the way he breezed on in. First of all, I swear somebody started cranking out smoke right before he showed up, and then, when he finally came strolling on in through the fog, he did some kind of time distortion thing that made everything seem like it had slowed down to half speed. And so here he comes, pimping on in through the smoke, in slow motion. Gotta admit, it was pretty fucking cool.
Anyway, Thrall had already given Nozdormu – or, as I like to call him, The Noz – a brief rundown of the situation, and Faranell and I filled in some more of the details for him. He mostly just nodded knowingly in that way he always does, kind of floating somewhere halfway between really cool and really annoying. Eventually he said he could probably help us out, provided we could stick to a few rules. I told him that shouldn’t be problem, because if there’s one thing yours truly is all about, it’s discipline and self-control. He just kind of stared at me a little when I said that. Not sure what the deal was there. But yeah, so he filled out the picture for us, and…you know what, why am I yammering away paraphrasing this? Mokvar was there. Here, I’ll have him hook us up:
NOZDORMU: As it happens, we have a time portal already established to Hillsbrad in the era you’re speaking of, so it shouldn’t be hard at all to send you there.
GARROSH: Well that’s convenient I guess. Would you not be able to open a new portal if you didn’t have one running already?
NOZDORMU: That would be…more problematic. We of the bronze dragonflight still have dominion over the timeways, and can travel along the pathways of time, but since the defeat of Deathwing, my ability to manipulate those timeways enough to open new time portals is…limited.
GARROSH: I was wondering about that, actually. Like how does that work with you guys? I would have figured losing your Aspect powers would have put this place out of business.
NOZDORMU: Not quite so simple. It’s true, we former Aspects expended our ancient power in order to charge the Dragon Soul, and we are now diminished, as compared to what we were. Mortal now, most notably…
GARROSH: Actually, if Deathwing and, you know, Malygos were any indication, you guys were sort of always mortal…
NOZDORMU: Well that’s different.
GARROSH: How is it different?
NOZDORMU: Malygos and Neltharion were killed in battle. Without the intervention of their slayers they would have carried on as immortals for eternity.
GARROSH: So, they were immortal as long as somebody didn’t kill them. Gotta say, that’s a pretty loose definition of “immortal.”
NOZDORMU: Did you really come here to argue semantics with a millennia-old, Titan-appointed caretaker of reality, just before asking him to do you a favor?
GARROSH: I know, I know. Just sayin’.
NOZDORMU: Where did that expression come from, incidentally? “Just sayin’.” If you say something insulting or presumptuous, how does tacking “Just sayin’” on the end of it make it any less insulting?
GARROSH: Okay, okay, you’re immortal, fine. Well, were.
NOZDORMU: Nevertheless, each of the flights holds dominion over one of the primal forces of the world, and even without our Aspect empowerment, the flights maintain those bonds. Ysera and the green dragonflight, for instance, continue their attunement to the Emerald Dream, just as the red dragonflight maintain their stewardship of life. Likewise, we bronze dragons are able to travel through time, and I personally retain my heightened perception of temporality.
GARROSH: What about Kalecgos?
NOZDORMU: What about him?
GARROSH: Well, he was the Aspect of Magic, right?
NOZDORMU: For about a week.
GARROSH: Well, still.
NOZDORMU: I don’t know. I guess he can still…well… He probably still knows a few card tricks, I guess.
GARROSH: Oh.
NOZDORMU: I’m not sure, though.
GARROSH: Ah, okay.
NOZDORMU: Yeah.
Garrosh, Faranell, and Liadrin exchange awkward looks.
GARROSH: So about the Hillsbrad thing.
NOZDORMU: Oh yes, that. As I was saying. We have a portal already established to Hillsbrad circa a decade ago, so it would be simple enough to send you through. I can further assign Chronormu—
Chromie, a bronze dragon assuming the form of a female gnome, teleports in and bounces happily next to Nozdormu.
CHROMIE: Hiya!
NOZDORMU: —to check in on you on occasion, to be sure there aren’t any unforeseen complications.
GARROSH: Wait, she’s a dragon? And what do you mean, complications?
CHROMIE: Yup, that’s me!
NOZDORMU: Yes, she’s one of the bronze flight. I suppose you haven’t met—
CHROMIE: Oh sure we ha—
NOZDORMU: I mean he. Hasn’t met you.
CHROMIE: Ohhhh, right, skipper. <making a zipping motion across her mouth> Sshhh!
GARROSH: Should…I be worried about something here?
FARANELL: I probably would have been worried long before this, but that’s just me.
CHROMIE: Ohhh don’t you fret over little ol’ me. I don’t bite. At least not in this form! <giggles>
GARROSH: Speaking of which, do you really have to be a gnome?
CHROMIE: Why? What’s wrong with gnomes?
Mokvar, Faranell, Dontrag, and Utvoch all utter overlapping groans.
MOKVAR: Oh boy, here we go.
DONTRAG: What’s wrong with gnomes, she says…
FARANELL: Even I know better than to…yeah…
UTVOCH: We’re going to be here a while, aren’t we?
MOKVAR: Every day with the gnomes…
LIADRIN: <to Faranell> Um, what did Lor’themar drag me into?
FARANELL: Give it a little time, really. It seems weird at first, but after a little while it actually becomes kind of fun.
DONTRAG: If he’s going to start in on the gnomes, you want to toss a few more coins?
UTVOCH: Yeah, no thanks, eighty-nine straight losses is enough for me in one day.
GARROSH: Okay, okay, will you people SHUT UP?
NOZDORMU: If one of my progeny taking the guise of a gnome is really that distasteful to you, I suppose I could appoint someone else, although I must say Chromie is one of my very best operatives, and…
CHROMIE: Thanks, gramps!
GARROSH: Yeah, okay, it’s fine. I’m not thrilled about the gnome thing, but whatever, I’m a professional. I’ll rise above it.
UTVOCH: Most inconceivable of you, sir—
GARROSH: <smacks Utvoch> We’ve been through this before about you and that word.
UTVOCH: Sorry, sir…
GARROSH: Okay, so fine, your little pipsqueak friend can be our contact.
CHROMIE: Woot!
GARROSH: But what was that thing about complications?
NOZDORMU: Well, Warchief, time is, after all, a rather complex and delicate thing, and one must be rather cautious when traversing its pathways. A certain, shall we say, delicacy and finesse is called for.
GARROSH: Dude, I am all about the fucking finesse. Right, guys?
Crickets.
NOZDORMU: At…any rate. You must simply take care not to interfere with past events more than is absolutely necessary. Speaking generally, you should not underestimate the potential impact of seemingly minor actions. You cannot imagine the magnitude of the consequences that can unfold from even a minor alteration in the timeline. More specifically, you will be traveling to a time and place that witnessed certain crucial events that cannot be disrupted…
GARROSH: Yeah, okay, that shouldn’t be a problem, this is 90% a fact-finding mission anyway, so…
NOZDORMU: So you say, and I do not doubt your intentions. But you must take care not to do anything that might interfere with certain key events playing out as they were meant to. Specifically, for one, the forging of the Ashbringer. You will be witnessing the fulcrum of an intricate convergence of events, which cannot be disturbed. The crystal carried by the eldest Mograine represents the spark which sets in motion events that must occur; this cannot be undermined.
GARROSH: Okay, check. No smashy-smashy on the crystal. Anything else?
NOZDORMU: One other matter. The reason, in fact, that this particular time portal was opened in the first place. You will be arriving at the moment in history when a young Thrall escapes from his human captors in Durnholde Keep. It is the singular event without which the Horde as it now exists…would not.
GARROSH: Wait, I get why that’s an event we can’t fuck around with, but why would you have opened a portal there if it’s so important that nobody interfere with it?
NOZDORMU: Because someone already did.
GARROSH: The what you say?
MOKVAR: I swear these time loop stories make my head hurt.
NOZDORMU: Agents of the Infinite Dragonflight had attempted to prevent Thrall’s escape, in order to…well, suffice to say, they sought to alter the timeline to ill effect. Some time ago, the bronze flight in my absence elicited the aid of a group of adventurers to travel back to this point in history and ensure that events played out as they should.
GARROSH: Okay…but, in that case, you already have people there keeping tabs on things, right? And they succeeded. We’re all here, and the Horde’s still here, so Thrall escaped and the world didn’t go kablooey or whatever, so your people did their job there and it’s a done deal, isn’t it?
NOZDORMU: It won’t be when you’re there. Those events are past to us, yes. And they have happened – now. But when you step through the portal, they will be as real and present to you as this conversation is now.
MOKVAR: Yeah, see, I really should have brought some aspirin.
GARROSH: I mean, yeah, I get that we’ll be seeing things happening live and in person. But if we’re sitting here having this conversation, that means whatever we end up doing there DOESN’T change anything, right? I mean, say you send me to the past. It’s still the past. So if I DID accidentally change things, wouldn’t we already know?
NOZDORMU: Except the actions you take in old Hillsbrad aren’t only the past. They are also, from our point of view in this moment, your future. Those events remain unchanged, until you actually change them. And only then do the ripples spread to the present.
LIADRIN: This is actually kind of fascinating.
NOZDORMU: Have you ever experienced déjà vu, Garrosh? Or had a memory that was so vivid and real to you, even though you knew, objectively knew for a fact, that the events didn’t happen the way you so clearly remember them?
GARROSH: Well, yeah, I guess…
NOZDORMU: That’s time rewriting itself. It happens all around us, constantly, in countless tiny ways we never notice except the cracks that flicker in the corners of our eyes. Well, you don’t notice. It’s all I ever see.
CHROMIE: Here we go, skipper, time for your favorite speech!
NOZDORMU: It’s what all of my flight sees, really; I simply have the most sensitive perception. When I look at you, Garrosh, I don’t just see you as you are now. I see everything you’ve done, everything you might do, everything you must do. They’re all written in your face, every minute, and with every choice you make, some of the endless possibilities reshape themselves, others melt away… Every single one of you here, accompanied constantly by an army of past and possible selves. Almost as if there were a thousand of you standing right here before me, Garrosh.
MOKVAR: Don’t let Garona hear that, can you imagine—
GARROSH: If you finish that sentence, I will END you.
LIADRIN: I’m…missing a lot of context for you people, aren’t I?
FARANELL: Don’t worry about it too much. I’m still pretty new, too. You catch up fast.
DONTRAG: Ohhh, I get it, you mean about how Garona’s been trying to—
UTVOCH: SHUT IT, nobody cares about her rolling an alt.
FARANELL: For instance, they’re idiots.
LIADRIN: Well yes, I gathered that much.
GARROSH: ANYWAY.
DONTRAG: No, not her alt, I mean—
GARROSH: <pummel>
DONTRAG: OWW!!
GARROSH: So okay, I think I get it. Past events can always change, time revises itself right out from under us when they do, but some events have to stay put. So say, like with what you were saying about looking at me and seeing my past and future… Like say next Tuesday I’m going to slip on a banana peel, but me falling on my ass sets off some other events that are really important, so even if you want to, you can’t be like “Hey Garrosh, watch out for the banana peel.” Because there’s some stuff in my future that HAS to happen.
Nozdormu stares at Garrosh somberly for a moment.
NOZDORMU: I think you grasp the basic idea, yes.
GARROSH: Oh so hey, is that why everybody’s just accepting how eventually you HAVE to go Murozond on us and cause all that trouble with the Infinite Dragonflight yourself?
NOZDORMU: Hey, listen, if you want to start poring over people’s misguided futures, I can—
CHROMIE: Whoa, whoa, cool down a little, boss! Ix-nay on the iege-say, right?
NOZDORMU: Ahem. Yes, yes, of course.
GARROSH: Umm, the hell was that shit about?
NOZDORMU: Hmm. One moment.
Nozdormu closes his eyes and takes on an expression of intense focus.
.tnemom enO .mmH :UMRODZON
?tuoba tihs taht saw lleh eht ,mmU :HSORRAG
.esruoc fo ,sey ,seY .mehA :UMRODZON
?thgir ,yas-egei eht no yan-xI !ssob ,elttil a nwod looc ,aohw, aohW :EIMORHC
—nac I ,serutuf dediugsim s’elpoep revo gnirop trats ot tnaw uoy fi ,netsil ,yeH :UMRODZON
?flesruoy thgilfnogarD etinifnI eht htiw elbuort lla esuac dna su no dnozoruM og ot EVAH uoy yllautneve woh gnitpecca tsuj s’ydobyreve yhw taht si ,yeh os hO :HSORRAG
GARROSH: Oh so hey, is that why everybody’s just accepting how eventually you HAVE to go Murozond on us and cause all that trouble with the Infinite Dragonflight yourself?
NOZDORMU: Yes, basically.
CHROMIE: Whew. That’s better.
NOZDORMU: Much.
CHROMIE: Why dodge a bullet when you can wind it back into the chamber, right?
NOZDORMU: Indeed.
GARROSH: Uh, what are you two babbling about?
NOZDORMU: Oh, nothing you need concern yourself with. Shall we start making preparations for you to begin your mission? There are a few small specifics we’ll need to go over.
GARROSH: Yeah, sure… Hey, actually, did I ask you that thing about Murozond before?
NOZDORMU: No, I don’t think so.
GARROSH: Huh, weird. Déjà vu.
We’re getting ourselves set to take the trip shortly. Mostly making sure we have any supplies we might need, getting a general briefing on what we’re allowed to “know” and “not know” if we talk to anyone in the other timeframe, all that fun stuff. Also, to make sure we blend in, The Noz says when we go through the portal we’ll be affected by a glamour that will make us look like we’re human. Not exactly a pleasant thought, but I can see why it’s necessary. Still, I hope whatever human form I get ends up being a LITTLE palatable. I don’t want to go literally strolling down memory lane looking like an asshole.
YOUR WARCHIEF IS A GENIUS
Not that you guys didn’t already know that, but you know what, I’m going to repeat it, BECAUSE IT BEARS REPEATING.
YOUR WARCHIEF IS A FUCKING GENIUS.
Why, you ask? YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T THINK OF THREE OR FOUR REASONS OFF THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD? Okay, fine, maybe you just suffered head trauma or something, or you’re Dontrag or Utvoch, so I guess I can let it slide. Just this once. Anyway, I suppose I should explain what I’ve come up with.
So, you know how we’re trying to figure out a solution to the whole anti-plague thing in Southshore, and how we tracked it back to that meeting Tirion had with his other Silver Hand people, and that dark crystal that they turned light and used to make the Ashbringer with…only, that lead wound up being a dead end, literally, since Tirion’s the only one who was there at the time who isn’t dead now? Well check out this flash of brilliance – yeah, sure, those people are all dead NOW, but they weren’t ALWAYS dead, right? And I know what you’re thinking, “Uh, yeah, Garrosh, that’s the way dead works, people don’t start off dead, they come out the gate not being dead, not being dead, not being dead, still not dead, not dead yet, OH FUCK now they’re dead, the end.” Well SHUT UP and LET ME FINISH. Fucking hell, you and your damned interruptions. Point is, we can’t go question people like Isilien and Doan NOW because they’re dead, but who says we can’t just go track them down at some point when they WEREN’T dead? Because guess what, it just so happens I have an in with some people – loosely speaking – who know a thing or two about time travel.
Yup, that’s right. I’ve already contacted Thrall, and as we speak he’s talking to his old Deathwing-slaying buddy Nozdormu, and so as soon as we get the details squared away, I’ll be rounding up a team and heading down to the Caverns of Time.
GARROSH, YOU GENIUS, YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN.
Anyway…while Thrall finishes making nice, I’m going to get a jump on prepping for the trip. I’ve only met Nozdormu the one time myself, and I didn’t really get to talk to him so much, so I might want to be ready to make nice myself when I get down there. I’ve heard he’s got a real sweet tooth when it comes to pastry, so I’m thinking I might get Marogg to whip up a batch of Greatmother’s lemon squares. Anything to grease the wheels, you know?
More updates soon. Don’t be surprised if the next time you hear from me, it’s from Tanaris.
[Header image provided by regular reader and commenter ZugZug, used here with permission and many thanks.]
