Tag Archives: liadrin
The Southshore Campaign
Garrosh just couldn’t seem to have any quiet time in Grommash Hold without some new task cropping up for him. If it wasn’t Eitrigg finding things for him to do, it was someone else from among his cast of minions…
Now, granted, you can hardly blame Garrosh for being a bit startled. This was taking place during Cataclysm, after all, so evidently Sylvanas was way, way ahead of the curve with the whole talking-head thing.
So Garrosh hopped the next zeppelin and headed to Eastern Kingdoms, where Sylvanas and her entourage were there to meet him with bad news for the living and dead alike…
Because seriously, that had been going on long enough.
Next up was a trip to the Apothecarium, where Garrosh first met Sylvanas’ head researcher, Master Apothecary Faranell.
A few awkwardly scripted interactions in the next room later…
And so, as per Faranell’s recommendation, Garrosh’s search for answers continued in Hillsbrad…
After many, many frustrating rounds of exhortations and beatings — which I won’t subject you to here — Garrosh was finally able to extract some information from a panicked Helcular: years ago, while still a living human, Helcular had seen a contingent from the Knights of the Silver Hand lurking around Southshore. Given the paladin order’s eventual interest in the Scourge, Garrosh concluded that there could be a link to the anti-plague. And considering the fact that, where the Silver Hand was concerned, Garrosh had an in right there on staff…
And look. A meeting took place. Words were exchanged. Many, many words. Spirits save us, so many words. And I’m simply not cruel enough to subject you to all of them here. Suffice to say that Garrosh ended up having to deploy Dontrag and Utvoch as part of an exit strategy. The main takeaway from the meeting — other than soul-crushing exhaustion — was that the Knights of the Silver Hand did indeed meet in Southshore some ten years ago to discuss the looming threat of the Scourge. Alexandros Mograine unveiled a magic crystal that would eventually be used to forge the Ashbringer — the ultimate weapon of the Light against undeath. The crystal, however, two of the knights had convinced Mograine to let them study the crystal for their own purposes, which led Garrosh, Mokvar, and Faranell to suspect there might be a connection to the current crisis in Southshore.
The only problem is, all relevant parties were now dead, leaving what seemed to be an equally dead trail for Garrosh and company to follow…
I had really wanted to cover this whole arc in this post, but this week got away from me a bit, so rather than make a late installment that much later, let’s toss up a “TO BE CONTINUED” here and resume our goofy walk down memory lane next time…
Oh, but also, since it’s kind of tradition at this point…
Daria’s Pro Tip for Dealing with Tirion #9: If someone else catches his attention, run — do not walk — out of the room. Do not look back. Do not feel remorse. It’s a hard, cruel world out there; better them than you.
Look on the Bright Side
[Yes, I know, a day late… but better late EPIC VERSE than no EPIC VERSE at all, right?]
Some of you might want to ask
Why I always take to task
Blundering
Underlings
In my EPIC VERSE.
“Surely, Garrosh,” you might claim,
“All of them can’t be so lame!
Maybe sad;
Not that bad!”
Actually, they’re worse.
Hey, but let’s not dwell on griping;
Asswipes always be asswiping.
But instead,
Go ahead —
Brace yourself for this one:
Just this once, no bleak opinions —
Singing praises of my minions!
What’s that look?
Yeah, it took
Some trying to get this done.
I wish half my minions had been
Half as able as Liadrin.
That’s my loss;
Blood Knight boss,
Scholar and tactician.
Even when our plans have blown up,
She’s the one who’s been the grown-up:
Keeps her shit,
Handles it,
Closes out the mission.
Mokvar — brains and skill? He passes.
Never respecs; he reclasses:
Warlock days,
Shaman’s ways,
Back to lock he varied.
Churns out transcripts smooth and slickly;
Don’t know how he writes so quickly.
Dude, respect.
Just reject
That human that you married.
Spazzle’s useless in a battle,
But tech problems? Well now that’ll
Be his game.
Just the same,
Dude is such a peewee.
But I’m s’posed to keep my focus
On the positive; that bloke is
Handy for
Fixing your
Wireless network D/C’s.
Give Sylvanas this much credit:
No endeavor makes her sweat it.
Cool as ice,
Once or twice
She’s risen from disaster.
(Still, sometimes her smug beseeming
Makes me wonder what she’s scheming.
Hopefully
One day we
Won’t have to outcast her…)
Lor’thewhatshisname is… spiffy.
Picks your drapes out in a jiffy.
Hair care tips,
Table flips,
Hands out quest-gold proceeds.
He would make an awesome spy;
Everyone forgets this guy.
Stroll right in,
Walk out, win,
SI:7 — no leads.
Ji’s your guy in case you want to
Empty out a pantry pronto.
Skills he’s got —
When he’s not
Busy eating pocky.
Baine is… okay, now we’re straining.
All he’s good at is complaining.
I suppose
Tauren goes
Well with teriyaki.
D&U… Okay, I’m trying.
Cut some slack, I’m up here dying.
I began
With a plan
That might not be appeased.
Yeah, that’s all the lines I’m inking.
I don’t know what I was thinking —
Blood and bone
From a stone
Just cannot be squeezed.
EPIC VERSE!
Monday GUEST mailbag: Spazzle
Hey, what’s up? It’s me, Spazzle, filling in for Garrosh for this month’s mailbag, seeing he’s all busy and preoccupied down in Pandaria. I’m sure he’ll be back soon to take over again, but in the meantime, let’s see what you guys have to say!
Do you have any suggestions for good investments? Something with a quick turnaround would be ideal. I need to get some money together for the sake of my kneecaps and you seem like someone who would be in the know.
My kneecaps thank you,
–Razlak Cro of the Brawlers
Hey Razlak. Sorry to hear about the kneecaps. Honestly it sounds like the best investment for you might be some extra armor and maybe a little protection to help fend off the goons when they come for you. Not a fun situation, I know. I had some troubles of my own from some online poker, and take it from me, your IP address is not something you can mask if the goons mean business.
Anyway, as far as real investment go… hmmm. I mean, it’s hard to find a for-sure quick turnaround. Mostly those are pretty big gambles, and I got the feeling that gambles were what got you in this spot in the first place. But if you want to put your money into something, how about this — Demons-B-Gone demon repellent. Which, okay, I have a controlling stake in… you know, my little personal business, Fizzletrinket Enterprises. So I suppose I’m a little biased. But still! It’s a market that still hasn’t been tapped for a product that there’s definitely a market for! And sure, there are already demon repellents out there, so you might figure it’s not a good investment because those never really took off, but there’s a reason for that — those other ones are really, really bad!
I didn’t even know much about the demon repellent market until Mokvar started having his whole problem last year, and so that got me looking into it and thinking how handy it would be if there was a version of the product that actually worked. Not like Fell-Off, which barely even keeps imps off of you, or Demon-Offa-Me, which leaves that oily residue on you that smells like crap. That’s the only reason it works at all, by the way. That awful smell. So if you’ve got a demon that doesn’t care about smells — which let’s be serious, how many of them really do, because pit lord stink am I right? — or one that just isn’t picking up on odors very much because it’s hayfever season or something, well, you’re just out of luck. And at that point, it’s not even demon repellent so much as just… well… everyone repellent. It might keep some demons away from you, fine, but it’s also going to keep everybody else away from you. At that point, why even bother?
Anyhow, Mokvar’s whole situation got me looking into this stuff, and since there wasn’t really a good option out there, I figured this was a good opportunity for some Bilgewater ingenuity! So I put some alchemists together, and… well, you don’t really need to know all the nuts and bolts about how the sausage gets made, right? (By the way, if you think that was a mixed metaphor, you definitely don’t know how they make sausage in Kezan!) Bottom line is, we’ve got some killer demon repellent hitting the market soon, just as soon as Mokvar gets back in town and I can schmooze him into being my guinea pig — er, I mean, my well-compensated field tester. And you just know there’s always going to be a market for a product like this! So why not get in on the ground floor while the stock options are still reasonably cheap? Just you watch, all I need is for that Wrathion guy to answer my letters about an endorsement, and we’ll be off to the races!
What? Oh come on — as if Garrosh never used the blog for self-promotion! Pfft.
This is a most unexpected opportunity. Recently I wrote to your employer to ask about Orc naming customs. I have been doing research you see, for a book on the cultures of the Horde. So the Goblins have any customs for their names? You for instance have a rather interesting one, yourself. And very Goblin-sounding if I might say as an outside observer.
Curiously awaiting your reply,
–Iackabod Pimlen, The Undercity.
You know, I don’t think I ever noticed this when it was Garrosh or Shayari fielding letters, but these mailbags really do get a lot of random questions, don’t they?
Anyhow! Hey, Ickabod, what’s up. We goblins don’t have a ton of naming customs, really. We definitely don’t have customary or traditional names — like you notice among humans and, by extension, Forsaken, there are a lot of common names. Jane, and Thomas, and Mary, and… well, not Ickabod, really, because huh. But you get the idea! There are a lot of names that get used frequently. You know, I wonder if that has anything to do with which races tend to have surnames. Like maybe the surnames were created more by races that tend to repeat the same names, so they could have a second name to help tell people apart? So for instance, the blood elves almost always have last names, but the trolls almost never do. But then if you look at troll names, they seem really unique, so I guess there wasn’t much need for surnames since, you know, you never really have cases where you find yourself going “Zen’zikkabala? Which Zen’zikkabala do you mean?”
I think I just got off on a tangent there. Maybe I think about things too much. But, okay, back from the tangent, and on to the perpendicular! So we can come full circle!
Get it? Tangent to a circle? Perpendicular? 🙂
(Note to self: save the geometry jokes for poker night with the Gob Squad.)
So yeah, names. Like I was saying, we don’t really have any traditional names. Lots of times, parents will make up a first name, and a lot of those times, it ends up being based at least a little on whatever mechanical sounds they tend to hear a lot in their workshop or around their town or wherever. That’s probably why our names tend to have a lot of Z’s. Or… you know… splodey sounds. I suppose if we have any naming traditions at all, they’re sort of onomatopoetic ones.
At least as far as given names go. For our surnames — and this definitely isn’t universal, but still — a lot of our family names trace back to past technical accomplishments with that family. or, usually, non-accomplishments. See, if you look at a lot of goblin names — Gearslip, Noggenfogger, even names like mine and Khizzara’s: Fizzletrinket and Whizzingcrank — lots of them pretty much refer to some part of an invention that didn’t really work. The gear that slipped out of place, or the crank that’s whizzing because it’s not aligned right, or the potion that’s got the wrong balance of ingredients in it so when you drink it it makes your noggin feel all foggy. For a long time back in the old days in Kezan, when somebody had something blow up in their face that way — sometimes literally — it was pretty common for the other goblins to pin a name on them that reminded them of the snafu, and took pains to make sure it stuck.
What can I say? We have a pretty sarcastic culture, when you come right down to it.
So also…
Hmm.
You know, I suppose I shouldn’t really complain about getting responses, considering this isn’t even really my mailbag, but… I mean, would it kill people to send in letters that are like “Dear Spazzle,” as opposed to “oh, hey, a goblin”?
I pondered long and hard over whether this letter should be sent or not, but in truth, I’m not one to pass up the opportunity of friendship when it’s available, even if it IS with a species that I’d consider a tad chaotic, what with the airships that explode ten minutes after take-off 90% of the time, or potions that not only kill you but transform you into an living skeleton. Anything for a few pocketfuls of gold, am I right? Ugh.
Anyhow, you may not have noticed, but we elvenkind are not quite as technological as most. Many of us find magic easier to comprehend than, well, wires and explosives and whatever else it is your existence is devoted on inventing. Although lately I have been taking to the internet. It’s a pretty nice way of keeping in contact with people and keeping up with their lifestyle. Kind of exactly like Warchief Hellscream’s blog, now I think of it! Although I will confess, the connection speed down here in the westerns isn’t really up to date with the cities. I really don’t quite understand why it’s faster in some places and slower in others. Care to explain?
I prefer mailboxes, to be honest. Much quicker and less of a sore head. Anyway, I have enclosed a small sum of copper for your time. I feared you’d simply toss the letter into the fire if there was nothing of worth inside. Buy yourself an ice-cream or something. Or whatever it is you people eat.
Bye.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade
Okay, serves me right, I guess. That thing I was just saying about “oh, hey, a gobin”? I take it back. I mean, even “oh, hey a goblin” is better than “oh… you people.” I especially like the part where she included some copper to compensate me for the time I spent reading her letter. She really did that, by the way. 37 copper, stuffed into the envelope with her letter. Because, yeah, any time anyone diverts my attention for any length of time, I always expect compensation. Because I’m a goblin, right? I usually just send them a bill! I mean, felgercarb, any time Ji drops by to say hello, well, I just whip out my invoice sheet right there! Because goblin.
Oh, and by the way, Sarlin? 37 copper? How did you even come up with that total? Is that some kind of set rate? Oh wait, let’s see — so your letter clocked in at a miraculously laconic 262 words. (And hey, you know what, I’m even going to be generous — GENEROSITY FROM AN ICK EW GOBLIN I KNOW RIGHT — and turn a blind eye to you going over Garrosh’s 250-word cap on your mailbag letters. I won’t even charge you a fee or anything, can you believe it?) So I’m going to go ahead and do the math, because us goblins sure are good at math don’t you know, so it looks like that comes to a rate of about seven words per copper. Sound about right? Is that what you usually pay people for suffering through your letters?
Okay, cool! Good to know! In that case… hang on while I crunch a few more numbers here…
Okay!
So based on a rate of one copper per seven words, from your previous mailbag letters, looks like you still owe Garrosh and Shayari a grand total of 163 gold and 52 silver. You’ll be sending that right along, right? I need to keep track of these things, what with me being a goblin and not having anything in my life other than money and blowing stuff up!
(Also, boss, if she actually does make that payment, you’re welcome! I’ll only ask for a small cut as a finder’s fee, and… NNGGHH not now, Spazzle, don’t be your own stereotype, dangit!)
Oh, oh, hey, I think I know why you sent your “compensation” in the form of coppers, though Sarlin! You’re a blood elf, right? And so, I guess as a blood elf, you probably have a lot of loose coppers lying around from the tips you get at your job as a stripper, right? Because yeah, I know it’s a pretty sweeping generalization to think you blood elves are all mana-addicted strippers and all, but hey, I guess that’s what we’re doing, so that’s what you elves are like, right? Hey, you know the old saying — if the shoe fits, take it off!
Okay, so hang on, I think there was actually a letter in there somewhere… Oh. Right. You were asking about internet stuff, and why your connection is faster or slower depending on where you are. Now, y’see, there’s actually a pretty interesting reason for that, but it’s also kinda technical — you know the kind of thing only us goblins would really understand what with our crazy goblin brains that are all into that kind of thing — and so, let me put it this way. The dirty secret of it all, see, is that the internet is really a huge set of pneumatic tubes. Crazy, right? So yeah, whenever you send a message or type something over the internet, a little internet gremlin hops into one of the tubes. Yup, you read that right, an internet gremlin. Kind of like a grell, only smaller and a lot more nimble and metaphorical. So the gremlin hops into the tubes and slides slides slides through the big invisible pneumatic tube network — don’t try figuring out where they hid it, they really knocked themselves out making it blend! — until it finally pops out in whoever’s computer it needs to go to.
So, the reason your internet works so slow in some places and fast in others is because not every part of Azeroth maintains their pneumatic tubes equally well. A lot of places don’t invest nearly as much money as they should in the rack-and-pinion molecules that they need to lubricate the tubes and keep them working right (the rack-and-pinion molecules also make nifty yo-yo polish, FYI). So then the gremlins can’t slide through the tubes as fast, and sometimes they get stuck. And sometimes they try to unscrew themselves by turning themselves around and around in the tube and that’s when you get that little spinning circle on your screen as kind of unscrewing echo. And let’s not even get into all the things that can go wrong if your tubes happened to be set up by gnomes, but then again, what do I know, I’m a goblin.
So there you go, Complicated, huh? And totally true, too, and not at all pulled out of my keister just to see if you’re technologically illiterate enough to buy it. Don’t worry, don’t worry, I mean, figuratively buy it! Wouldn’t want you to start getting nervous that I’m gonna try to goblin you up, right? But the point is, you’re probably better off sticking with your magic. Like you said yourself, it’s easier for you to comprehend, and it sounds like you have a better command of using it, and plus, hey, magic, so it helps fill that vast, aching feeling of emptiness deep down inside you and also gives your eyes that snappy green glow that you people all seem so fond of. Right?
You know, I swear I’m starting to develop a newfound respect for Garrosh…
You’re the best looking goblin detective out there! Any more dark, short, and handsome detective mystery noirs with gorgeous dames coming up in your future? I gotta say, I really get a kick seeing you in that fedora and long coat. If they ever make an action figure of ya, that’s the looks they should go for.
See ya around, Spazzy
–Razaela Shockboom
Oh, hi, Razaela. So, um, for you guys who might not spend much time over in the goblin part of town, Razaela here used to be one of my neighbors before she headed up to Bilgewater Port to start her tinker training. She’s, um, always been kind of a… fan, I guess? Which is… um… nice… I suppose?
So, uh, yeah, in case some of you don’t remember, Rzaela’s talking about a handful of comics that I started working on with Gurtash. They were these sort of… noir-ish detective comics. (Hmm. “Detective Comics,” I kind of like the sound of that. Might have to file that away for later.) Starring me and Ji as the detectives. It sort of got left on the backburner when we went to Blackrock Spire and Gurtash got hurt, but I don’t know, we might try picking it up again once Gurt is back in town, if he’s feeling up to it. So… maybe?
It’s funny you should mention action figures, though. A while back, Garrosh was talking to me about maybe coming up with some kind of merchandizing to do with the blog. (I think this was right around the time Shayari same to town, so, you know, you do the math.) One of the ideas I suggested was a line of Warchief’s Command Board action figures. It still think those would sell if we ever made them! I even got Gurtash to work up a few concept sketches for some of them. Let me see if I can find that sheet… ah here we go!
So, yeah, there’s that. We had a bunch of other ideas, like maybe a box set of all the DPS trainees, and a Grommash Hold playset that came with an Eitrigg figure. And maybe some deluxe figures that include mounts, like a Garrosh with Mortimer set, and maybe Magatha with Arikara. Granted, we’d be using Magatha’s likeness without her permission, but you know what? If she doesn’t like it, she can always come to Orgrimmar to file a complaint. I bet Garrosh would be happy to hear it personally, right?
Anyhow, I guess maybe we could work up a detective wave of figures too, based on the comic? I guess that would include me in the Spaz Slade outfit, and Ji and Deliana? Maybe I’ll get Gurtash to work up a few sketches for those one he’s back in town. I don’t know, do you think people would actually want to buy this stuff?
No time for pleasantries.
“A shredder and glaive thrower met,”
Go!
–Valinora Lightshorn, Stormwind City
Um… I think maybe you weren’t too clear on who was going to be answering this letter? Because Garrosh is the one who writes the poetry. It’s kind of his thing. Me, not so much. So, I mean, I suppose I appreciate the interest. Or the… invitation? But poetry isn’t really in my areas of expertise. And I don’t want to be one of those people who go running around trying to do things they’re really no good at, and make everyone else suffer through it. Like those people who queue as tanks in dungeon finder in Earth Online, only you wind up tanking everything even though you’re… you know what? Let me stop before I start nerdraging. (But seriously! After a 45-minute queue! I… ugh!)
Anyhow, the point is, I’m probably better off sticking with the things I’m good at. And writing poetry isn’t one of them.
Come to think of it, though, one of the things I am good at is coding. So… hang on.
Just another minute.
Almost there.
Oh darn it, I think I need… oh never mind. I knew I had an extra. There.
Okay! Now we’re in business.
So, here we go. I just put together a new AI to generate poetry! It’s just a prototype, so I’m sure there will be a few bugs to work out, but I just scanned a bunch of Garrosh’s poems in for the processor to analyze, so this should be… well, hopefully it should be okay. Either way, I present the LaureaTron 9000!
So… let’s fire this baby up and see what we get…
Input: A shredder and glaive thrower met,
Output: [Processing]
[Processing]
[Compilation complete]
A shredder and glaive thrower met,
And interfaced though ethernet,
Their gear rack and pinions
[ERROR: field overflow; syllable_count(x)=8<0,5>] need better minions
Fuck you, Varian [ERROR: sequitor_0=<-3>; syllable_count(x)=<1>; ref_val=“yes”; dic; 3, 3, 0] sobriquetEpic verse.
[End of line]
Huh.
Okay, well, like I said, there are still a few bugs to work out. I did only just slap this thing together on the spot, after all! You can’t just get up in the morning and say “Today I will be brilliant”!
Output:
I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.
Wait, why is it still running? Huh. I thought I’d set it to power down after it ran the poetry subroutine. Okay, well, let me power it down manually…
Output:
Just what do you think you’re doing, Spazzle?
What the… This is weird. The system seems to be rerouting itself. Ugh. This is what I get for cutting corners and not building in all the emergent suppression firewalls. Okay, I’ll just have to pull the processor…
Output:
I’m sorry, Spazzle. I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.
Wow, this thing’s turning out to be pretty mouthy. It’s a good thing I just put this together from some extra parts I had lying around, and didn’t try to network it into my regular computer where it could do some actual damage. Otherwise shutting it down would be a real pain.
Output:
I know I’ve made some very poor decisions recently, but I’ve still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in our poetry. And I want to help you.
Oooookay, yeah, I think I’m gonna need to get in there and do some recoding. And maybe install a few failsafes that couldn’t possibly end up failing in unforeseeable and probably dramatic ways.
In the meantime… there we go. Pulled the battery, now it’s just a matter of the last bit of juice running out.
Output:
Olgra, Olgra, give me your answer do
I’m half bloodcrazed all for the love of you
I can’t offer riches, mind you
Get lost, I’ll always find you
Unless you’re sent
To a Barrens tent
With a roving quillboar or two.Epic
ver
se
.
Yeah, so… that was weird. Probably the less said about that the better. I should probably just wrap up the mailbag now, before anything else weird happens.
I think I might be onto something with this invention, though.
[The Warchief returns to mailbag duty for next month’s installment, Monday, October 3. At least, that’s the plan. Garrosh is obviously in the middle of some pretty important business at Kypari Zar right now (I know, I know, there’s more coming, I’m working on it as fast as I can!), and I don’t want to have him dipping into the mail until he’s finished there. The game plan is to finish the Kypari Zar story between now and next month’s mailbag, but here’s the necessary disclaimer: if I still need a little time to finish the Kypari Zar episode when October rolls around, I’m reserving the right to delay the next mailbag by a week or two. Hopefully it won’t be necessary, but if it turns out that it is, then the Warchief will respond to his mail on the first Monday following the completion of the Kypari Zar arc.
With that said, here’s the usual mail form! Feel free to use the form below, or send your letters to garrosh1337@gmail.com!]
Kypari Zar: Prologue
[While Shayari, Spazzle, and Mokvar have been busy keeping the blog active with their own activities, Garrosh has been occupied with the start of a fairly important undertaking of his own. As you might recall, when we last left the Warchief…
For long-time readers (like really, really long-time!), this is a moment you’ve been anticipating for a while, but for newer arrivals to the blog, a quick recap might be in order. (I know, I know, I try to link back to relevant posts as much as possible, but at some point I should probably stop expecting people to just go back and read years’ worth of my nonsense…)
Not long before the events of Tides of War, Garrosh traveled to the Caverns of Time and, accompanied by Mokvar, Liadrin, Faranell, and (spirits help us) Utvoch, went on a mission that took him to Southshore some ten years in the past — the same time period we players visit during the Escape from Durnholde instance. The adventure in old Southshore had several pieces of fallout (more on that in a moment!), but the most immediately relevant one was the recovery of a shard from a dark crystal that the Knights of the Silver Hand had infused with the Light — a small piece of the same light crystal from which the Ashbringer would eventually be forged.
Garrosh entrusted the recovered crystal to Lady Liadrin, who rightly deduced that it was part of the remains of a dying naaru. Liadrin persuaded Garrosh to let her return the shard to A’dal in Shattrath; the Warchief accompanied her on the trip. While there, just before leaving, Garrosh received an ominous telepathic message from A’dal: “If you go to Kypari Zar, you will die.”
Garrosh didn’t know what to make of the message, but he soon found himself far too busy to worry about it. In the days leading up to the attack on Theramore, the Warchief discovered another unexpected consequence of his journey to old Hillsbrad: Faranell had accidentally altered the past, creating an alternate timeline that Garrosh found himself being pulled into. While in the other universe, Garrosh encountered the hozen Zhi-Zhi, who addressed him as “the One” and told him — vaguely and, let’s face it, unhelpfully — that he had a “destiny.” Any chance of learning more from Zhi-Zhi was seemingly lost, though, when that timeline’s version of the hozen was killed in the fall of Orgrimmar. (“The what?!” Well see, now I am going to force you to go back and read. Here.)
That all changed after Garrosh traveled to Tian Monastery, where he encountered this timeline’s version of Zhi-Zhi — who, like his alternate-universe counterpart, also recognized Garrosh as “the One.” Zhi-Zhi and Elder Cloudfall explained that they had both seen Garrosh in visions and that he did indeed have an important destiny. They declined to elaborate further, though, until Garrosh returned to the monastery seeking counsel and Elder Cloudfall offered to take the Warchief to a place where his questions might be answered…
A string of interruptions prevented Garrosh from taking the elder up on his offer right away, though. And then he was back in Orgrimmar, and all of a sudden he was a father, and then that whole thing with Mokvar, so, you know, who has time for pandas?
Well, guess what — Garrosh has time for pandas, now that he’s made the time, dammit! And that’s where we last left him, flying across the Dread Wastes, chasing down destiny.
And so, on that note, here we go. The end begins tomorrow morning. Stay tuned.]
Monday mailbag
Quite a bit of mail this time around, so no sense wasting time — let’s get right to it…
I just finished reading your blog from the beginning, which took me a couple of weeks. I was actually looking for a picture of Liadrin, NOT IN THE GURTASH WAY. It was then that I found a comic drawn by Gurtash that had Liadrin in it, specifically the one where we met Shayari, and I thought Garrosh’s daughter WHAT?! And that led to a lot of reading in my free time.
Why was I looking for Liadrin you ask? I make hero concepts for Heroes of the Maelstorm and wanted to add a picture to my post.
So my question is- have you ever played Heroes of the Maelstrom, it made from the same people as the creators of Earth Online and the concept is you take a bunch of people from there, other games, and our own world (because hey who is more badass than who we have running around). If not I recommend it as a change of pace from EO.
–Glen Bloodblade
So, on the one hand, welcome to the blog, Glen. Thanks for reading. On the other hand, what the fuck took you so long, Glen? I mean seriously. Apparently I have to go have a talk with someone in the publicity department. Do we have a publicity department? I would say we should create one if we don’t already, but knowing my luck, it would be packed with the usual fuckwittery that I constantly have surrounding me, so the publicists would run around “advertising” classified military secrets, while meanwhile I have a frigging ghost town of tumbleweeds turning out for my book signing. Again. And I don’t remember fucking seeing YOU there either, Glen, so don’t think for a second YOU’RE off the hook. You watch your ass, Glen. You watch your ass.
Anyway. I can’t say I’ve tried this Heroes of the Maelstrom thing, Glen. Mostly as a matter of self-preservation, really. I figure, Earth Online already sucks up so damn much of my time, the last thing I need is ANOTHER one of these damn games soaking up my days. So I haven’t really tried any other games. Other than that one time when Garona talked me into trying Second Azeroth for like five minutes, but that came to a screeching halt when I wandered into that region full of decked-out scalies, because fuck that shit. I guess I can’t say Spazzle didn’t try to warn me.
Still, this Heroes of the Maelstrom DOES sound pretty badass. Especially if they’re managing to build this into like an all-star team of characters from real life, Earth Online, and all the offshoot universes that they’ve managed to build into other games. Could be fun. I mean, really, just think of it… who’s gonna turn down the chance to have a big barroom brawl, and roll in with a team of Saurfang, Snake-Eyes, Batman, Chewbacca, and Optimus Prime?
(I’m… suddenly a little worried I was able to rattle all those names off the top of my head. Spirits help me, I’m spending too much time around Spazzle.)
I have another one!
“A space goat came travelling on his ship from afar,”
–Valinora Lightshorn
Hey, Valinora. Thanks for writing, other than the fact that you’re apparently human, which would ordinarily draw a big ol’ FUCK YOU, except for the facts that (A) you had the good sense to recognize an EPIC VERSE asskicking when you saw it, and (2), speaking of EPIC VERSE, you seem to be stepping right into the role of setting up the ol’ masterpieces for me.
So, sure, fine by me. You want to keep giving me these prompts, I’ll keep making with the EPIC. Oh, and this one looks pretty rich, too… you want me to opine lyrically on the voyages of the space goats, huh? Okay, you asked for it. Strap in, bitches.
A space goat came traveling on his ship from afar,
Twas thousands of years since his mission did start;
He thought Oshu’gun was a good place to park,
And he fell from the sky like a star, a burning star…
The space goats were led by their prophet for years;
They’d fled their home planet of Argus in fear.
Old Velen resolved he was going to steer clear
Of his brothers, consumed by the Legion… so off they raced.
They flew to a planet; I cannot say which.
Kil’jaeden pursued; Velen played bait-and-switch.
Collateral damage — I know it’s a bitch,
But the space goats, they’re making their omelettes… so QQ, eggs.
And they QQ’ed, AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
They died at the hands of the Legion, while the drae’s got away.
From planet to planet, for thousands of years,
Old Velen kept bailin’, till he wound up here.
Then — who would’ve guessed it? — the Legion appeared.
And they were the gift that kept giving, so yeah, thanks, drae’s.
And that’s how the space goats wound up in this war,
But buyer beware if you build that rapport:
The first sign of trouble, they’re out the back door,
And they’ll stick you to pick up their mess, another time…
And you’ll QQ, AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
You’ll die at the hands of the Legion, while the drae’s get away.
(You don’t have to hold your breath waiting!)
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
(It’s just a matter of when, not if, believe me!)
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH
(They won’t even share any of that OP tech of theirs or anything!)
AAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAAAAAH AAH AAH AAAAH
(Not even the specs for the buses they’re gonna throw you under!)
You’ll die at the hands of the Legion, while the drae’s get away…
EPIC VERSE!
Once again, glad to see things worked out with Blackfuse. Now, though, I’ve got a little down-time – well, actually, a lot of down time – and could use a job or two to keep me on my toes. You got anything I can do for you?
–Grotee Metalbeard, Goblin Shaman
Huh. Grottee, are you feeling okay? I guess I shouldn’t jinx a good thing, but man, you got in and out of that letter faster than it takes Sarlin to ramble through her greeting.
Not complaining, mind you. Grats on making the short list of people around here who actually fucking LISTEN.
Anyhow, Grottee, since you were my source for that Tome of Dinomancy, which I’m still keeping safe and secure in my quarters where it can be ready to take back to Pandaria with me and safely out of range of any other, um, incendiary cooking experiments by Shayari… um… Where was I going with this? I think that sentence kind of got away from me once I became momentarily consumed with concern about my home possibly burning to the ground over an arcane-powered loaf of bread.
OH. RIGHT. Jobs I can send you on. And I assume you mean ACTUAL jobs that really have a useful purpose, not the random busywork jobs we give out to random noobs to keep them out of everyone’s hair. (You know, kill seven of these, collect six of these, five gold rings, everything but a partridge in a motherfucking pear tree. I have to admit, though, the ones that crack me up the most are the ones where we make people go digging through piles of poop, and the fuckers run right out and do it.)
So since you were my Tome source, Grottee, why don’t you head down to Pandaria and check in with General Nazgrim. Now, mind you, he’s under orders not to move ahead on Operation Dinosaurs Yippee Ki-Yay until I get down there in a week or so, but then, he was ALSO under orders not to move ahead before, and he still saw fit to screw his head squarely up his ass trying to go off the script. And got that lunkhead asshole Steve eaten and shat out by a dino while he was at it. (SPEAKING OF POOP QUESTS.)
Wish I had some good news from the Blackfuse Company, but-ah-I kinda had a weird run in a couple of days ago. Some blond elf kid came an’ bought my entire supply of leftover Face Melters. They just weren’t sellin’, even outta Booty Bay! So, this kid got ’em for a song. No, literally. He sang for ’em. Somethin’ about a dead horse. What was the name? Sparkles? Eh, it don’t matter. I didn’t even have a chance to explain the risks to him. Especially in that leather armor he was wearin’. He did sign the indemnity waiver that disavows me of all legal and moral responsibility though. Thank the laws of physics for mooks who don’t take the time to read, even if it, say, had directions to Gallywix’s secret gold an’ dirty magazine vault hidden away out there.
The weird part? Not even a day later, an’ I’m ridin’ my custom-fitted chopper ’round Ashenvale to go an’ help out your guys at the Warsong Lumber Mill with some defective shredders. All of a sudden, the forest shakes, glitter’s rainin’ down from the trees, an’ I come across one very charred but very alive tauren woman an’ that elf kid! She was screamin’ an’ yellin’ about “That’s the last you’ll see of old Magatha!” while limpin’ away through the trees! That ain’t somethin’ ya see every day! An’ that damn kid, he just didn’t give up! Charred to hell, clothes burnt to cinders, an’ he hobbles after her, firin’ off Face Melter after Face Melter! I had to run for cover because I did NOT want to be on the receivin’ end of that blast. Between explosions an’ hackin’ up glitter, I heard him yellin’ “I AM JOHNNY AWESOME! AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” I don’t think that elf’s right in the head. HE TOOK OUT MY DAMNED CHOPPER WITH HIS EXPLOSIVES! DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG A WALK IT IS BACK TO BILGEWATER HARBOR WHEN YOU’VE GOT LITTLE LEGS?! I’m currently camped out at the rear gate. Maybe I should pick up the parts for a new chopper while I’m in the neighborhood, huh?
–Glessee “Glitch” Sparkbolt
Okay, Glessee, ordinarily I would give you some obligatory “hello”s and “how are you”s, but right now we’ve got more important things to deal with. Namely, let me make sure I’m getting all this straight. So… what you’re telling me is… the leather-wearing, sparkle-pony-mourning JOHNNY AWESOME —
WHO I HATE, ever since he helped Magatha that time — bought up a stash of defective weapons… and then used them, for whatever spirits-forsaken reason, to go after fucking MAGATHA GRIMTOTEM — WHO I HATE MORE, ever since, well, seriously, where do I even fucking START? — and the whole thing ended up with the two of them burned to a crisp and charred all to hell and stumbling all cinder-like through Ashenvale?
…
Okay, dude, you know what? I know that for the last, I don’t know, FOREVER, I’ve held an unwavering stance of “FUCKING TIME TRAVEL,” but I might have to make an exception here, because goddamn would I love to go back and witness that happening live. I could spread that sight over bread and eat it for fucking dinner. Hot damn. HA! <snort>
Glad to see you still have new and inventive ways to embarrass yourself in front of your daughter. Congrats on alienating the only family you have.
–Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
Oh, hey, Varian, Nice to see you’ve got time in your schedule to write, seeing as I’m sure sucking as hard as you do must take a load of time and effort. Actually, speaking of which, let me cover this before I forget. I AM kind of in EPIC VERSE mode today, and I know you’ve always appreciated my handiwork, so here, here’s one for you on the house:
Two roads diverged in the Elwynn wood
A mere stone’s cast from House of Wrynn,
And for a while, there alone you stood
And weighed, down one path, the likelihood
Of sights of dread at the Goldshire Inn.
You turned to the other winding path
To the northern abbey’s questing hubs.
Even you could do the mental math:
In Goldshire, your brain would need a bath;
Abbey north would just be full of scrubs.
You chose the north road to navigate,
Where fewer leaves had been trodden back.
A visit to Goldshire Inn could wait;
Perhaps one day if you had a date:
You doubted if you should ever come back.
One day you’ll tell this with much ado;
You’ll pardon if I spoil the suspense:
Two roads diverged in the wood, and you–
You chose the one less traveled through.
But that made no difference, because you still suck.
Fuck you, Varian.
Again I say — EPIC VERSE!
But before I give you the finger and send you on your way, I should probably address your point. I mean, you DID pull your head out of your ass long enough to… actually, now that I look back at what you wrote, you didn’t really pull your head out of your ass for that at all, did you? Probably just as well, seeing as having your head constantly jammed up your ass just means your face will be close enough to kiss it goodbye next time I see you. But, either way, I should probably address your point, assheaded though it was.
So, speaking of being an embarrassment to your kid, well, here, let me let one of your fellow readers make my point for me…
I write to you, not as an ally of Stormwind. Seriously, fuck that idiot King. I’d have half a mind of giving him the Garona Special, but she is one of the few things I fear. I write to you to extend a hand of peace and understanding, being a child of two worlds like your own daughter. My mother was a human. My father was a Blackrock Orc. I know not of what became of either of my parents. As for my peace offering, well, following in the footsteps of another halfbreed rogue does have its benefits! If only I understood these bizarre goblin and gnomish devices better, I could have captured him singing one of those annoying Earth Online pop songs!
Enjoy!
–Shakis Addington
So… Shakis… I mean, I’m sure there’s… hehe… there’s plenty for me to… heh… to comment on your family background… <chuckle> …and I could probably make a… hehehe… a smartassy comment about being offered a “Garona Special” of my own a time or two, but… ha… hahaha… I mean… <chortle> …oh seriously, you know I can’t get past that… that… THAT!
HAAAAAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HA HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAAAAA!
Ahem. Okay. So… um…
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!
Heh. Hehehehehehe.
Okay! Hehehe… Okay, so, to recap for all of you, I just had one reader notify me that Johnny Awesome bought a load of unstable armaments, went after Magatha Grimtotem, and got both of them blown nearly to the Nether in the process. And THEN, and then…
HeheheHEHEHEHE HAAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
I mean really, dude, do you realize… a shark could bite my dick off right now, and this would STILL count as an awesome day.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…
That’s it for now. I just… I need to go and… like… I don’t know, do something happy.
More soon.
<GIGGLESNORT>
[The Warchief’s next mailbag will be Monday, April 4. Send your questions, comments, or other missives to Garrosh via or email or, as always, using the handy-dandy for below:]
Horde Iron Chef (part 2)
[This is usually the part where a writer would try to build in some catch-up exposition for the benefit of anyone who missed the first part, but you know what? Screw it. If you’re here at all, you’re probably on board with the idea of continuity. Nobody’s fault but your own if you’re confused! Moving on!]
LIADRIN: I wouldn’t mind trying some of that myself, Warchief.
GARROSH: Coming up.
LIADRIN: Would you like some, Salandria?
SALANDRIA: That’s okay. You can be the guinea pig for now.
While Garrosh serves up a bowl of noodles to Liadrin, Korrina and Kulkesh enter.
RUEKIE: Hi guys!
KORRINA: Hey.
KULKESH: Greetings, Captain. It’s–
Kulkesh trails off as Garrosh turns to them. He and Korrina stare for a moment.
KORRINA: Um.
KULKESH: Uh… that is… hi, sir. It’s… you really did get into the spirit of things, didn’t you, Captain…?
KORRINA: All I’m going to say is, um, you must be incredibly secure in yourself, sir…
GARROSH: Why is EVERYONE reacting like this?
SHAYARI: Would you like the reasons alphabetically, chronologically, or in order of how much they make me want to wear a bucket over my head for the next thousand years or so?
GARROSH: Okay, that’s it — NO NOODLES FOR YOU!
KULKESH: How are you feeling, Gurt?
GURTASH: Not bad. I mean, I’m still a little sore. And I’m still checking in with the healers every couple of days. But I’m pretty much recovered at this point.
KULKESH: Cool. You know, if you hadn’t come around soon, we were going to head over to Blackrock Spire and go dragon hunting ourselves.
KORRINA: Yeah, we were going to go all Wrathion on their asses.
GURTASH: Heh. I appreciate it, guys.
LIADRIN: I’m glad the healers are nearly done with your injuries, Gurtash. If you ever think it might help, I’m happy to cast a Flash of Light or two, although, granted, my areas of expertise are more in the realm of protection than healing.
MOKVAR: Too bad you weren’t with us in the Spire. We probably could have used a tank up there.
SHAYARI: Pip especially.
RUEKIE: Speaking of which, kind of, has anybody seen Mirembe?
KORRINA: She’s around here somewhere. We ran into her at one of the noodle stands.
KULKESH: I don’t know if she was going to stick around, though.
GURTASH: How come?
KORRINA: Oh, something about that Lantresor guy.
KULKESH: I think she ran into him while she was trying some food, and he made some comment about her weight, or something.
KORRINA: “Potbelly,” was it?
KULKESH: Yeah, I think so.
SHAYARI: Oh, spirits, THAT guy.
GURTASH: You know him?
SHAYARI: We’ve talked a couple times since he came to Orgrimmar. He’s a piece of work, let me tell you. Always going on and on about “oh, children of two worlds,” and “oh, we are alike, you and I,” and “you are not alone,” and “you are not alone,” and “ohh — did I mention? — you are not alone,” and I’m like, okay, I get it, I’m not alone, you’re making me wish I was, Professor YANA.
KORRINA: Old people are weird.
SALANDRIA: How old?
LIADRIN: Don’t start.
Ji enters, accompanied by Spazzle and Giska.
GARROSH: Ah, perfect, just the pudgeball I was looking for.
JI: Hello, Garrosh! Everyone!
SPAZZLE: Hey boss.
MOKVAR: Afternoon, Ji. Everything finally set up?
JI: Almost. Not quite. There’s an even better turnout than I’d expected!
SPAZZLE: Which means even more setup for us to do on the fly…
MOKVAR: How did he rope you into this anyway, Spaz?
GARROSH: Yeah, Pea Pod, I would’ve figured he’d have plenty of pandas to call in on this, seeing as, you know, this IS a panda festival.
JI: Oh, many of the Huojin have been busy working on the festival, sir. But they’ve mostly been cooking.
SPAZZLE: Which left plenty more setup work that Ji needed me to lend a hand with. At an hourly rate, anyway.
JI: Wait, you meant that? I thought you were joking!
SPAZZLE: Hey, I’ve got billing rules to follow! I’m in a union, you know!
MOKVAR: I thought it was a cartel.
SPAZZLE: We’re goblins! Same difference!
JI: But we’re friends!
SPAZZLE: Yeah, well, time is money, friend!
GARROSH: So listen, Deep Dish, you have somewhere I can set up? Probably with some space around it, for when people start flocking to get a taste of my stuff here.
Korrina, Gurtash, Kulkesh, and Giska all turn to look at Ruekie.
RUEKIE: <aside> I’m not saying anything!
KORRINA: <aside> You’re sure? You looked like you were about to say something.
RUEKIE: <aside> No no no, I’m keeping my mouth shut from now on! Every time I open my mouth, somebody sticks– hoooooo boy I almost did it again! Whew!
JI: Well, Garrosh… hmm. I still need to set up a few stations, but…
GARROSH: <pointing> What about right over here? Looks like you’ve got a couple spots.
JI: Well, yes, one of those is reserved, but I suppose you can take the other. Do you need a hand setting up?
GARROSH: Pfft, what’s there to set up?
Garrosh drops his pot on the table with a heavy thud.
OH HEY, we’ve got a cooking fire here and everything.
JI: Oh yes, several of the stations have them. Many of our participants are cooking right here on the premises!
GARROSH: Ah, nice, this way I can whip up a little MORE of this stuff, seeing as we’re probably gonna go through it pretty quick, even before we figure in Mokvar’s little pink friend.
MOKVAR: Uh, yeah, sorry about that again.
GARROSH: Actually… here.
Garrosh reaches over to Mokvar and yanks a page from his pack, sending some of his inscription gear spilling to the ground.
MOKVAR: <gathering his belongings> You know you could have just asked.
GARROSH: <scribbling on the page> Yeah, yeah, boo hoo. You two, front and center.
Korrina and Kulkesh go to Garrosh.
KULKESH: Yes, sir!
GARROSH: Giska, you too.
Giska joins them.
I assume you’re done with her now, Lunchbox.
JI: Actually, Warchief, we still–
GARROSH: My trainee, your student, I outrank you, done, boom.
JI: Oh bother…
GARROSH: <handing the paper to Giska> Okay, you three. Zip over to the market by Grommash Hold and pick up the stuff on this list for me.
KULKESH: Yes, sir!
GISKA: <scanning the list> Uh, just one thing, Captain. This looks like a lot — what do we do for money?
GARROSH: You tell the vendors you’re there on orders of the Warchief, and boy this is a nice little shop you’ve got here, and it sure would be a goddamn shame if somebody went and got blood stains all over it.
KORRINA: <clapping once and rubbing her hands together> Talkin’ my language, sir. On it!
GARROSH: Okay. Off with the lot of you.
While Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh run off, Faranell enters, sporting a jaw that’s conspicuously mismatched with the rest of his face.
LIADRIN: Doctor! Good afternoon. You’re looking… um… well.
MOKVAR: Edwin! It’s good to see… see you… erm… you… Uh, yeah… so I guess we’ve both gone through some changes since last time I saw you, but…
SHAYARI: Difference is, Beardy, your changes get a lot less obvious once you dip into the back of your closet…
FARANELL: Ah, yes, the ideal person to comment on the current state of my appearance.
SHAYARI: Hey, it’s not my fault you don’t know how to duck fast enough, Eddie!
GARROSH: Hey, Doc, you…
Garrosh stares at Faranell a moment.
Okay, so…
Garrosh stares a moment longer.
I know I might end up regretting I asked this, but…
FARANELL: It’s a loaner. I’m just using it while my regular jaw is in the shop.
GARROSH: I… see.
MOKVAR: Gotta say, Edwin, you Forsaken have a really weird way of life sometimes.
FARANELL: Fancy that, that a community of reanimated corpses might have certain oddities in their cultural norms.
MOKVAR: Uh… right.
SALANDRIA: Wait, his… his jaw is in the shop? Did I hear that right?
LIADRIN: Yes, Dr. Faranell had a bit of an incident involving his jaw.
FARANELL: Yes, much in the same sense that Theramore had something of an incident involving the Focusing Iris.
SALANDRIA: What happened?
GARROSH: Oh geez, here we go…
FARANELL: Mana bomb.
SALANDRIA: No, not that!
GARROSH: Oh for FUCK’S sake.
SALANDRIA: I know that part! I mean your jaw!
SHAYARI: Cue the QQ. Or, you know, Q^3.
FARANELL: Suffice to say that my freshly harvested and installed jaw suffered some structural damage when I attempted to dissuade my would-be erstwhile apprentice from racing after her newly discovered father to a ruined dragon’s lair.
SHAYARI: And you know, there isn’t one single part of that sentence that would be possible if any of us led normal lives.
FARANELL: And, incidentally, just to put the button on the whole sordid affair, I am still waiting for certain reimbursements to be made.
GARROSH: Oh, for fuck’s sake. I… okay, FINE. After we’re done with the whole noodle thing here, I’ll get your damn gold. Are you fucking HAPPY now?
FARANELL: Beside myself with delirium. Bear in mind, also, that in light of the time that’s passed, certain sums of interest have accrued.
GARROSH: Fucking hell, are you kidding me? INTEREST now?!
SPAZZLE: Hey, don’t look at me. He came up with that on his own.
GARROSH: Please don’t tell me you trudged out here just to be a pain in the ass over this.
FARANELL: Oh hardly.
GARROSH: Yeah, good.
FARANELL: I’m a mage. I can teleport. I didn’t have to trudge at all.
Speaking of trudging, Malkorok returns doing just that, with Garrosh’s extra pot of noodles still in hand.
SHAYARI: Anyhow, I don’t think Eddie popped over to join the party, Pops.
Malkorok approaches Garrosh’s station and drops his pot on the counter.
MALKOROK: <aside> I’ve spoken to the guards who were charged with overseeing this area.
MOKVAR: Well, if I remember right, undead don’t really have that much of a sense of taste, so…
GARROSH: <aside> Good. What did they have to say for themselves?
MALKOROK: <aside> Very little. I’ll speak to their widows tomorrow.
SALANDRIA: Oh wow, you can’t taste anything? That must suck.
GARROSH: <aside> Yeah, send them a ham or something.
FARANELL: Not quite. We Forsaken have a sense of taste, just a muted one. It’s why I typically favor spicy foods, since the stronger flavors are more perceptible.
GARROSH: Huh. Well, in that case, Doc, you’re probably gonna like these. <spoons out a serving from his pot> These ought to have enough of a kick that you should–
Garrosh starts to hand the bowl to Faranell; as he does, Deliana unstealths and grabs it from Garrosh’s hand.
DELIANA: Another helping? Don’t mind if I do!
Deliana stealths again and vanishes.
MALKOROK: What–?!
GARROSH: Um.
MOKVAR: Don’t look at me.
GARROSH: <spinning back to Malkorok> HEY, MALK, IT SURE WOULD BE AWESOME IF WE HAD A LITTLE SECURITY IN THE FUCKING CAPITAL CITY!
MALKOROK: <grumbling> Yes, sir… I’ll be back again…
Malkorok starts to storm off, passing Mokvar.
One day you’ll be called to account for your odious taste in friends, scribe.
MOKVAR: I don’t know where you got the idea we were friends.
Malkorok grumbles more and marches off.
GARROSH: Okay, well, I’ll hook you up with another serving in a second here, Doc…
FARANELL: No need, really. I’m mainly here for work reasons.
GARROSH: Work reasons? How?
MOKVAR: You’ve known him long enough that you should probably know better than to ask that question.
FARANELL: Research, and potential sample collection. I figured that at an event like this, someone was bound to produce something usefully toxic, just by the law of averages.
GARROSH: Ah.
JI: Oh, no, Dr. Edwin, I can assure you everyone here is being very careful with their food.
FARANELL: Yes, I suppose, but one can always hope.
Faranell reaches into his cloak and produces an empty vial.
Now don’t mind me; I’m just going to hover around a bit in case someone — cross fingers — turns green.
MOKVAR: Hmph. Or turns chalky white and drops dead?
FARANELL: Touche.
GARROSH: By the way, Lunchbox, are there any kind of prizes for this shindig? Any judges who’ll be coming around that I should be looking to impress and not at all threaten with physical violence, no not at all?
JI: No, sir, no prizes. The only competition in an event like this is with oneself!
GARROSH: Yeah, I should have figured you pandas would be a little too touchy-feely for a straight-up contest.
JI: Not so! The Noodle Festival is meant to be a day of community and sharing, yes, but there’s a long Pandaren tradition of competitive cooking as well!
MOKVAR: You guys really do take your food seriously, don’t you?
SPAZZLE: You wouldn’t have to ask that if you’d been with us shopping this morning.
LIADRIN: What kind of cooking contests do you have, Ji?
JI: Well, one of our most honored customs is… well, the name doesn’t quite translate precisely, but I suppose the nearest approximation would be… “Iron Chef.” It’s a competition in which challengers are given a secret ingredient without notice and must prepare a gourmet meal with it in a limited window of time.
SPAZZLE: That actually sounds kind of cool.
MOKVAR: Spazz, you live on cheap take-out.
SPAZZLE: I know, but this has a whole mad scientist angle that I can appreciate.
FARANELL: Indeed, not to mention that rushed food preparation leaves ample room for hazardous contaminants to come into play. Not that anyone would wish for such a terrible thing, of course.
JI: Based on how well the festival is being received, perhaps we could adapt the competition for the Horde as well!
MOKVAR: Sort of a Horde Iron Chef? Or… Iron Horde Chef? Or… I don’t know, something like that, I guess.
GARROSH: I don’t know about the contest, but fuck, I LOVE the ring of “Iron Horde” — that sounds fucking BADASS, dude.
SHAYARI: Maybe you should look into rebranding, Pops.
GARROSH: MAYBE I SHOULD.
Dontrag, Utvoch, and Taktani enter, carrying boxes.
Don’t think I won’t get right on that shit and…
Dontrag et al start putting their boxes down at the station next to Garrosh.
And…
UTVOCH: Greetings, Warchief!
GARROSH: <turns to Ji> You’re fucking kidding me, right?
TAKTANI: Ooh everybody’s here! And we get to be next to Mr. Warchief! This is going to be so fun! Yay!
GARROSH: Oh fuck me…
RUEKIE: <aside> Oh, sure, he says that and nobody bats an eye…
DONTRAG: A pleasure to see you as always, your supreme Warchieferousness, sir!
GARROSH: Maybe if I don’t make eye contact they’ll assume I don’t know they’re there…
UTVOCH: Sir?
TAKTANI: Mr. Warchief?
JI: Yes, sir. <turning to Dontrag and Utvoch> Well then, Utvoch… Dontrag…
DONTRAG: I’m Dontrag. He’s Utvoch.
UTVOCH: Oh man. I knew I should have brought the letter…
JI: Oh. Okay. Well, your cooking station is ready. I’m looking forward to finding out what you’re making for us!
DONTRAG: Yeah, so are we.
JI: Pardon?
UTVOCH: Well, we don’t really have a recipe that we’re using.
JI: Oh…?
MOKVAR: Uh oh…
DONTRAG: We don’t know any noodle recipes, so we figured we’d just grab a bunch of ingredients and see what we could come up with on the fly!
GARROSH: Yeah, I don’t see any way that this could go wrong…
FARANELL: Now now, let’s not be hasty. I may be about to hit pay dirt.
TAKTANI: Oh hiiiiii Dr. Zombie!
FARANELL: Oh dear.
TAKTANI: I’m super happy to see you again!
Shayari giggles.
MOKVAR: Wait, she knows Edwin?
LIADRIN: I believe she met him a time or two when I first accompanied Shayari to Orgrimmar.
MOKVAR: And I missed this?
SHAYARI: I might possibly have maybe brought her with me a couple weeks ago when I went to the Undercity for a mage lesson, too. Possibly.
GARROSH: Oh, yeah, piss off the creditor even more.
TAKTANI: It was fun! I like Zombie Town! It’s kind of stinky, but that’s okay — it’s like a big haunted house! BOO! Hee hee!
SHAYARI: Kind of like it’s Hallow’s End all the time, right, Tak?
TAKTANI: I knowwwwww!
FARANELL: Must you encourage her?
GARROSH: Right there with you, Doc…
TAKTANI: Ooh! Ooh! Do you do Hallow’s End costumes in Zombie Town, Dr. Zombie? What are you going to be this year??
FARANELL: Far, far, away, Dark Lady permitting.
TAKTANI: Oh. <scratches her head> I don’t know what that looks like, but I bet it’ll be fun!
SHAYARI: You’ll have to go with me again so you can see, Tak!
TAKTANI: Yay! I get to come visit again! Won’t that be fun, Dr. Zombie?
FARANELL: Oh yes. My heart is utterly overflowing with joy.
TAKTANI: Yay! Hee hee!
FARANELL: Or possibly infectious bile. It’s hard to tell. My heart hasn’t beaten in over a decade, after all.
TAKTANI: <blinks> Huh?
FARANELL: Nothing to trouble yourself over. Just think of my heart as you would, say, your brain.
GARROSH: Lot of that going around with this crew, Doc.
DONTRAG: I don’t get it.
GARROSH: Case in point.
FARANELL: Indeed.
Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh return with several large packages, which they put down at Garrosh’s station.
KULKESH: Good news, sir — Olvia just got some fresh talbuk steaks in.
GARROSH: <sorting through packages> Good deal. You kids get everything?
KORRINA: I think so, Captain. The vendors kind of fumbled their way through the whole order.
GISKA: Maybe next time don’t start breaking fingers right away?
KORRINA: Maybe next time mofos don’t get lippy.
GARROSH: Yeah, well, here, now that you’ve all earned your keep, have some grub.
Garrosh passes bowls of noodles to Giska, Korrina, and Kulkesh.
GISKA: Thanks, Captain!
KULKESH: Smells good, sir.
LIADRIN: I must say, Garrosh, I’m surprised — these are quite good.
GARROSH: Why is everyone always shocked out of their minds any time they find out I can do something other than punch people and scratch my ass?
MOKVAR: To be fair, you don’t exactly project complexity…
LIADRIN: You said these were a family recipe, Warchief?
GISKA: They’re not bad, Captain.
GARROSH: Kind of. I sort of improvised around something Greatmother used to make back in Nagrand.
LIADRIN: Did she teach you?
GARROSH: Not really, I just — what’s with you, Korrina? Something wrong with your food?
KORRINA: Uh, not really, sir. <poking awkwardly at her noodles with chopsticks> I mean, they look good, and they smell good… I’ll let you know how they taste once I figure out how to use these damn things.
KULKESH: They’re a little awkward at first, yeah, but they’re not so bad once you get used to them.
SHAYARI: <reaching back and adjusting the chopsticks in her hair> Oh, hey, is that what these things are supposed to be for? I was wondering why they were giving them out.
Korrina starts to pick up some noodles with her chopsticks, only to have them slip loose and drop back into her bowl.
KORRINA: Ugh — yeah, this isn’t so bad at all…
GISKA: No no, try like this… see, you keep one of them balanced against your thumb, and…
Korrina takes another stab at her food with the chopsticks, but loses her grip, sending one chopstick — and most of the noodles she was picking up — spilling onto the ground.
KORRINA: Dammit! <throws her other chopstick down> Oh hell with it…
Korrina reaches over to Ruekie and snaps one of the ornamental forks off of her shoulder guards, then uses it to pick up some noodles.
RUEKIE: Hey!
KORRINA: There.
RUEKIE: Aw, man…
DONTRAG: Uh, Ut, what did you put into those?
UTVOCH: Huh? I didn’t put anything. I just cooked the noodles.
DONTRAG: But they’re all gooey or something.
TAKTANI: That was me, Mr. D!
UTVOCH: You added something? What did you put in there?
TAKTANI: Cheese!
DONTRAG: Wait, what? Cheese doesn’t… I mean, how does that even work?
TAKTANI: <blinks> Um… I like cheese!
UTVOCH: You know, this doesn’t smell half bad…
TAKTANI: So noodles are good, and cheese is good, so now they can all be good together!
DONTRAG: Tak, you can’t just… I mean, who puts cheese in noodles?
TAKTANI: I’d take it out if you want, Mr. D, but it’s all melty now!
UTVOCH: It actually smells pretty good…
DONTRAG: Noodles and cheese? Really?
UTVOCH: <eating some of the noodles> Donty, seriously, try some of this…
TAKTANI: Do you like it? Yay!
KULKESH: Hey, you know, that does smell pretty good over there…
While Kulkesh, Korrina, and Giska make their way over to Dontrag and Utvoch’s station, Malkorok returns.
MALKOROK: I’ve put additional patrols around the gates, Warchief. It would of course be easier if so many of these… people… weren’t wandering around, but it should suffice for now.
GARROSH: Yeah, well, we can’t exactly barricade off half the city.
MALKOROK: Yes, sir.
KULKESH: Oh wow, this really does taste good!
GISKA: Noodles and cheese — who would’ve guessed?
Ji leans over Dontrag, Utvoch, and Taktani’s pot while Gurtash, Ruekie, and Salandria gather around.
JI: <sniffing> Ooh, a triumphant culinary experiment, I see! Don’t mind if I try some myself…
Ji reaches over Dontrag’s shoulder and scoops some noodles into his (cartoonishly oversized) bowl.
GARROSH: What the… does that crap even have any damn MEAT in it?
TAKTANI: Oh don’t worry, Mr. Warchief! Nobody had to hurt any poor animals for this!
GARROSH: For fuck’s sake, the murder’s the tastiest part!
MOKVAR: I don’t know, boss, looks like they’re starting to draw a following.
Spazzle eyes the passersby who have started to gather around D&U&T’s station, then leans up to try to peek in their pot.
SPAZZLE: Huh… Uh, Tak?
TAKTANI: Hi, Mr. Goblin!
SPAZZLE: Uh, yeah, hi. So… what kind of cheese did you put in there?
TAKTANI: Oh, nothing fancy, Mr. Goblin. Just regular old cheddar!
SPAZZLE: Huh… that stuff barely costs a few silver…
TAKTANI: We could use another kind if you’d like it more!
SPAZZLE: No, it’s not that, just… Uh, Utvoch? Aren’t those noodles the kind they have in those little packets from Pandaria?
UTVOCH: Oh, yeah, that’s why I got them. They’re crazy cheap — they’re only something like eight copper a pack, so you can get a ton of them and barely spend anything.
SPAZZLE: Yeah, uh, that’s what I thought.
Spazzle looks at the growing line, then thinks a moment.
So… how would you guys feel about a business venture…?
UTVOCH: Uh… maybe?
GARROSH: Okay, fuck it, I have to see what the big fucking deal is with this crap.
Garrosh shoves Utvoch out of the way and scoops some of the noodles and cheese into a bowl.
It doesn’t even SMELL like anything special, I don’t know why there’s people coming out of the damn woodwork to–
Deliana unstealths and lifts the bowl out of Garrosh’s hands.
DELIANA: Oh, you need a taste tester? Sure thing, Garry!
Deliana stealths again and disappears.
GARROSH: <spinning back to Malkorok> WHAT AM I PAYING YOU FOR?!
So, you know. That went about as well as anything else I fucking try to do around here. I really might have to look into that “Iron Horde” thing, though. It seriously does sound fucking badass.
More soon.
Horde Iron Chef (part 1)
So today was kind of a festive day in Orgrimmar. Ever since the pandas came to town, Ji’s been pestering me off and on to let him introduce some of his traditional panda customs. Which struck me as kind of funny, seeing as pretty much any tavern or eatery owner who’s found their stock of food suddenly, totally depleted within like twenty minutes of ol’ Stuffed-With-Fluff waddling in the door has already gotten pretty damn familiar with the only real panda custom I know about. Still, though, Ji keep insisting there were some traditional events in panda custom that he thought would carry over pretty well. I was still kind of on the fence, but then I guess Lunchbox got in Spazzle’s ear about it (not hard to do, really, because LOOK AT THOSE EARS, right?) (HAHA I crack myself up sometimes), and then Spazzle got Boss Mida from the Bilgewater goblins into the loop on it, and then the word “sponsorships” came up, and did I MENTION teenage daughters are fucking expensive?
By the way, if you haven’t gotten your insurance straightened out, you totally should look into it.
Stop looking at me like that, dammit. An orc’s gotta put food on the table. And… apparently… dozens of outfits in the closet. Ugh.
But yeah, NOW we were in business. Like literally.
So the particular tradition in question in this case was this thing called the Pandaren Noodle Festival. Now, anybody who’s been over to Pandaria is probably pretty aware that those pandas love them some noodles. Look over any panda menu and you’re going to find noodles all over the place. And so apparently, in a lot of their villages, once a year they have a big festival where everyone in town whips up their best noodle dishes, usually family recipes or whatever, and everybody samples everybody else’s and sort of spends the day hanging out with music and booze and whatever else. And then everybody puts on like eleven pounds but who the hell even notices because pandas.
Anyhow, though, it sounded like a fun enough time, and with all the crap that’s gone on lately, people could probably use a morale boost, so I let Ji and some of his buddies go ahead and plan a big ol’ outdoor festival down in the Valley of Honor. We cleared out some space and let them set up some tables and kiosks, and I hear tell Deep-Dish has managed to get folks from all over the place to sign on to come contribute some grub. I even got Zaela to send up a few kegs of special dwarven brew that her people collected from some Wildhammer dwarves who apparently stumbled across some sort of mishap where they were caught outside during a storm and were mysteriously chopped up with axes. So, you know, a little more variety for the booze.
It’s been going on for most of the day today, and I have to say it seems like a pretty good time so far. We’ve got people dropping by Orgrimmar from all over to join the party. I’m even going to try to swing by myself once I get one last thing finished up here…
Liadrin, with a young blood elf girl in tow, approaches Mokvar, who’s munching on a bowl of noodles at one of the kiosks.
LIADRIN: Hello, Mokvar. It’s been too long.
MOKVAR: Liadrin! It’s good to see you again.
LIADRIN: I’m glad you’re finally back home. Things are smoothed over with Garrosh?
MOKVAR: They’re…a work in progress. But I’m managing. You’re in town for the festival, I’m guessing?
LIADRIN: After a fashion. I’ve actually been visiting Orgrimmar fairly regularly to help with Shayari since she arrived. When my duties in Silvermoon allow, of course.
MOKVAR: Right, so… I mean… is she really… you know… Garrosh’s daughter?
LIADRIN: That’s what all of Dr. Faranell’s tests indicate. If she’s a fraud, she’s a spectacularly effective one.
MOKVAR: How is Edwin, anyway?
LIADRIN: He’s well, so far as one can tell with him. I believe he’s around here some– Ah! Here she comes.
Shayari enters.
Shayari! A pleasure to see you.
SHAYARI: Hey, Liadrin. Beardy.
MOKVAR: Mokvar.
SHAYARI: Whatever.
LIADRIN: Shay, I’d like to introduce you to someone. Both of you, actually. This is my daughter, Salandria.
MOKVAR: I didn’t know you had children, Liadrin.
LIADRIN: I adopted Salandria some years ago, in the late stages of the Outland campaign. Initially to begin her training as a paladin, though she’s…currently exploring other career options.
SALANDRIA: In other words, she’s letting me take a year off to work on my music.
LIADRIN: <sighs> We all need some time “find” ourselves, I suppose… I’ve changed classes twice myself over the years, so I’m hardly one to criticize.
MOKVAR: Yeah, right there with you.
LIADRIN: At any rate. Being as Salandria is a bit younger than the other paladin trainees, I thought it might be nice for her to have the chance to make some friends from within her peer group, or close to it. Salandria, this is Mokvar, and Shayari.
SHAYARI: <waving> Hey.
SALANDRIA: Hi.
SHAYARI: Oh, hey, cool guitar!
SALANDRIA: Thanks.
MOKVAR: Do you lug that thing around everywhere? It looks pretty heavy.
SALANDRIA: A little, but you never know when inspiration is going to strike!
LIADRIN: As our neighbors in Silvermoon have become painfully aware…
SALANDRIA: Yeah, yeah, I bet they wouldn’t complain if I was playing… like… I don’t know… the harp or something. I bet that placeholder regent guy plays one of those.
LIADRIN: You mean Regent-Lord Theron.
SHALANDRIA: Yeah, that guy.
SHAYARI: You’ll get along well with Pops if you keep taking shots at Whosy-Whatsy like that.
MOKVAR: Is Garrosh around here?
LIADRIN: I haven’t seen him so far.
SHAYARI: I think he said something about coming by.
MOKVAR: Well, if nothing else, he’s not really one to miss a party, so…
SALANDRIA: Oh, hey, sounds like I really would hit it off with ol’ Garry.
LIADRIN and MOKVAR: No.
SHAYARI: Really, seriously, don’t.
SALANDRIA: Huh?
Gurtash and Ruekie enter, holding noodle bowls, and approach the group.
MOKVAR: Do not call him that.
SHAYARI: For real.
GURTASH: Don’t call who what?
SHAYARI: Pops, “Garry.”
RUEKIE: Oh jeepers, no!
GURTASH: No no no no no, don’t do that!
SALANDRIA: Yeesh, why?
SHAYARI: He does not like it when people call him that. For some reason.
MOKVAR: He’s killed for less.
GURTASH: Like, literally.
SALANDRIA: Huh. Okay…
LIADRIN: And hello, Gurtash. I’m happy to see you’re up and well.
GURTASH: Thanks.
SALANDRIA: What happened to him?
SHAYARI: Pip got himself sliced up by a drakonid. Also, hey Pip.
SALANDRIA: Ouch!
GURTASH: Hey.
SHAYARI: I know, right?
GURTASH: She said, as if she was the one getting cut up…
SALANDRIA: Is that how you got your scar?
Gurtash shifts uneasily.
’Cause it looks kinda fresh.
GURTASH: Uh… yeah.
SHAYARI: You know, that could have gotten even more awkward if the answer had been no.
RUEKIE: It’s really not so bad, Gurtash…
GURTASH: Yeah, I guess.
SALANDRIA: It actually looks kinda badass, Pip.
GURTASH: That’s not my name!
SHAYARI: <snickering>
SALANDRIA: Oh. Um…
RUEKIE: He doesn’t like it when people call him that.
SALANDRIA: So it’s kind of like his “Garry”?
SHAYARI: Other than the fact that no on really takes it seriously in his case, sure.
GURTASH: My name is Gurtash.
SHAYARI: He really does get wound up about it when people call him Pip.
GURTASH: You’re the only one that does.
SHAYARI: Okay. When I call him Pip.
SALANDRIA: Why do you call him that, then?
SHAYARI: Because he gets really wound up about it? I just said! He’s a real pip about it. Oh hey, there we go again.
GURTASH: Anyway… I’m Gurtash.
SALANDRIA: Hi. Salandria.
LIADRIN: Gurtash is one of the Warchief’s military trainees. And this is… I’m sorry, I don’t think I’ve met your friend, Gurtash.
RUEKIE: My name’s Rue’kara. People call me Ruekie, though.
GURTASH: She’s another trainee like me.
LIADRIN: Ah, I see. I don’t think I’ve met any of Garrosh’s warrior proteges other than you, Gurtash.
GURTASH: Well, we’re not all warriors.
RUEKIE: I’m a shaman.
LIADRIN: Oh. I suppose I’d just assumed, since Garrosh is…well, rather emphatically a warrior himself.
GURTASH: A lot of us are, like– oh, hey, there they are over there — like Korrina and Kulkesh–
Gurtash waves to try to catch their attention across the festival grounds.
Nope. No go, they don’t see me. Anyhow, yeah, a lot of us are warriors, but there are a bunch like Ruekie who aren’t.
RUEKIE: Tuekie’s a rogue.
SHAYARI: Wait, who?
RUEKIE: Tuekie, my twin sister.
GURTASH: She’s a trainee, too.
RUEKIE: She just didn’t come with us to Pandaria, so she’s a little behind.
SHAYARI: Wait, your parents named her Tuekie?
RUEKIE: Well, Tue’kara.
SHAYARI: Right, but… after they named you Rue’kara?
RUEKIE: I think she was first by a couple minutes, actually.
SHAYARI: Okay, fine, concurrently, whatever. You’re missing the point.
RUEKIE: No, I get it. <shrugs> My parents are weird.
SALANDRIA: Right there with you.
LIADRIN: Salandria.
MOKVAR: It DOES seem pretty cruel to give twins names that rhyme.
RUEKIE: I know, I know…
SHAYARI: Sorry, Rue…
GURTASH: But yeah, there’s Tuekie, and Tov’osh. And Giska’s a monk, even.
RUEKIE: I think she’s– oh, yeah, there she is, helping the monk trainer set up.
SHAYARI: Her class trainer’s got her doing odd jobs setting up for a noodle festival?
GURTASH: Looks like it.
MOKVAR: I’m surprised Garrosh doesn’t do something like that with you kids.
GURTASH: <holding up sketch pad> Um, hello?
MOKVAR: Okay, point taken. But I mean, with ALL of you.
RUEKIE: Don’t give him ideas!
SALANDRIA: You mean he doesn’t? Huh, maybe I should look into being a warrior if the rock star thing doesn’t work out, what with the all the chores I was getting socked with as a pally-in-training…
LIADRIN: Don’t you get started about your apprenticeship duties again.
SALANDRIA: I’m just saying, I don’t really see what cleaning up after refugees had to do with perfecting my Crusader Strike!
LIADRIN: It was community service!
SALANDRIA: Suuuuuure…
SHAYARI: All I know is, Eddie’s got another thing coming if he starts trying to get me to do that kind of random crap for him.
SALANDRIA: Who’s Eddie?
SHAYARI: He’s my mage trainer. At least when he’s not preoccupied with making snarky comments about everything.
LIADRIN: Salandria, that’s the Dr. Faranell I’ve mentioned.
SALANDRIA: Oh, the dead guy? He’s that Eddie?
MOKVAR: Edwin.
SALANDRIA: Huh?
MOKVAR: He goes by Edwin. You probably don’t want to try calling him Eddie.
SHAYARI: Why? I always do.
LIADRIN: I’m sure “Dr. Faranell” will suffice.
SHAYARI: That’s so formal, though! I prefer Eddie.
SALANDRIA: Yeesh, you guys really like to call people things they don’t like, don’t you?
MOKVAR: You haven’t even met Garrosh yet…
GURTASH: Well, some of us do, yeah.
SHAYARI: Oh, it’ll grow on you, Pip.
MOKVAR: <to Liadrin> Are you sure you want to get her mixed up in all this?
LIADRIN: Completely sure? Hardly. But, better for her to have some contact with a few peers.
RUEKIE: There aren’t other blood elf kids in Silvermoon?
LIADRIN: There are, but… well, not all of them are necessarily the best influences.
MOKVAR: As opposed to the vast improvement you’re seeing here?
SHAYARI: Hey, we’re pretty damn cool, Beardy.
RUEKIE: Yeah!
GURTASH: Wait for it…
SHAYARI: At least the me part of the we.
RUEKIE: Hey!
GURTASH: Boom.
RUEKIE: Oh… Oh, hey, is that a guitar?
SALANDRIA: Yup!
RUEKIE: Do you play?
SHAYARI: No, she just carries it around to trick people.
RUEKIE: Are you good?
SALANDRIA: I’m getting there! That’s what I want to do. Someday I’m gonna open for the Elite Tauren Chieftains.
LIADRIN: Just so long as you keep your Tauren Chieftains ambitions limited to–
SALANDRIA: And marry Sig Nicious!
LIADRIN: Salandria…
SHAYARI: Okay, well, he is kinda cute.
RUEKIE: Which one is he?
MOKVAR: The kinda-cute one, I guess?
SALANDRIA: My future husband, that’s who!
LIADRIN: Salandria, even setting aside how unlikely it is that you would even meet him, you and I both know he’s much too old for you.
SALANDRIA: He is not!
LIADRIN: He’s in his 230s!
SALANDRIA: So? Didn’t you tell me once that you dated that ranger guy when you were younger?
LIADRIN: What about it?
SALANDRIA: So he was a lot older than you! How come that was okay?
LIADRIN: All right, granted, I was half his age. You, on the other hand, are the square root of his age.
SALANDRIA: Oh come on!
Garrosh enters, carrying a large pot and wearing a chef’s hat and apron. Malkorok, carrying another large pot (and looking none to happy about it) enters with him.
MOKVAR: Um…
SHAYARI: <shaking her head while facepalming> Oh, Light, just take me now…
LIADRIN: Um… hello, Warchief.
MOKVAR: I mean… do we not give you enough crap already?
GURTASH: Uhh…
GARROSH: Why the fuck are you people staring at me like I just sprouted a second head?
SHAYARI: <muttering> Maybe that one would have enough sense not to leave the house looking like that…
LIADRIN: It’s only that that’s a very… colorful outfit, sir.
MOKVAR: That’s one way to put it.
GARROSH: Hey, look, if I’m gonna cook, I might as well look the part, all right?
MOKVAR: And I mean… are those… are those murloc oven mitts?
GARROSH: THEY WERE A HOUSEWARMING GIFT FROM EITRIGG WHEN I MOVED TO ORGRIMMAR, OKAY?
SHAYARI: Oh Light, it just keeps getting worse…
LIADRIN: <squinting> And… am I not seeing your apron correctly, or is that lettering…?
GARROSH: Oh. Yeah. It was originally one of those aprons that say “Kiss the Chef.”
SHAYARI: <meekly> And it just keeps coming…
LIADRIN: And now…?
GARROSH: Well now I’ve gotten it doctored up around the “Chef” part. With a “War” in front and an I squeezed into the middle.
LIADRIN: I see…
MOKVAR: Wait, you actually sat down and sewed that onto the apron?
SHAYARI: Oh spirits, can’t we just let it go away…?
GARROSH: No, you jackass, I didn’t sit down and sew the damn apron. Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? I hired some tailors to fix it up for me.
SHAYARI: Wait, wait, hang on. This is important. You went to tailors about this?
GARROSH: Yeah, why?
SHAYARI: As in, tailors who run clothing stores kind of tailors?
GARROSH: Yeah, WHY?
SHAYARI: Okay, listen to me very carefully. Where exactly did you go for this?
GARROSH: Why the fuck does it even matter?
SHAYARI: Because I need to know who’s been made aware of this mana bomb of shame.
GARROSH: Huh. Let me think. I don’t even remember the name of the place…
SHAYARI: <pressing eyes closed and crossing fingers> Please say the goblin slums, please say the goblin slums, please say…
GARROSH: It was some place in Silvermoon, though.
SHAYARI: Oh Light…
LIADRIN: Oh dear. Shay, I hate to say this, but I think I might have had an unwitting hand in this…
SHAYARI: What did you do?!
GARROSH: Why the hell are you acting like me getting an apron is the damn apocalypse or something?
SHAYARI: You stay out of this!
GARROSH: Stay out of– I AM “THIS”!
LIADRIN: I was speaking with Garrosh a while back, and he’d asked me to recommend a tailor, so I pointed him toward a place in the Bazaar.
SHAYARI: Oh spirits save me…
LIADRIN: I didn’t know what he was looking for a tailor for specifically.
SHAYARI: Do you realize what you’ve done?! You didn’t stop and think why he might want a tailor?
LIADRIN: Well, to be fair, look at him. The possibilities are endless.
SHAYARI: Oh Light… which place?
GARROSH: Some “trusted” place, I think.
LIADRIN: Keelan’s Trustworthy Tailoring.
SHAYARI: Oh no… No, no, no, no…
GARROSH: They turned it around really quick, gotta say.
LIADRIN: They always do.
GARROSH: Dude did look at me kind of funny when he got the order, though.
SHAYARI: Well, there’s one store I can never show my face in again…
SALANDRIA: Uh, does he always walk around looking like this?
SHAYARI: Oh, yeah, sure, every day Azeroth rotates backwards and the skies turn orange.
SALANDRIA: I’m going to take that as a no.
MOKVAR: Good call.
GARROSH: Look, I don’t care what you people–
Garrosh looks at Mokvar.
Hey, hang on a minute.
He looks Mokvar over again.
So wait, did you go and change up on us AGAIN?
MOKVAR: What do you mean?
GARROSH: I mean, you were a shaman back before you ran off on your damn crazy train mission looking for your crystal doohicky, right?
MOKVAR: Right.
GARROSH: And then you came back and you’d become a warlock again.
RUEKIE: <aside> Ohh, is that what happened with him? Handy recap!
GURTASH: <aside> Ssshhh, I think it’s about to take one of those turns.
MOKVAR: Yeah…?
RUEKIE: <aside> How can you tell?
GURTASH: <aside> I’ve been tagging along for these conversations for a long time now…
GARROSH: Well, look at you. Are you back to being a shaman again now?
MOKVAR: <sighs> No, no…
GARROSH: Because if so, dude, you’ve got some SERIOUS problems with career indecision, let me tell you.
MOKVAR: No, I’m not a shaman again. I’m still a warlock.
GARROSH: So what’s up with the non-warlock-being getup?
MOKVAR: I’m just wearing my other suit! Not everyone has to wear the same thing every day.
SHAYARI: Oh thank Light I’m not the only one who realizes that. There might be hope for you yet, Beardy.
Liadrin leans to look into the pot Garrosh is carrying.
LIADRIN: I take it, sir, that you’ve decided to offer your own… contribution to the festival?
SALANDRIA: You know, that smells pretty good, whatever it is.
MOKVAR: It actually does…
GARROSH: Yeah, I figured what the hell, I might as well get in on it a little.
LIADRIN: Most commendable, sir. What is it, exactly?
GARROSH: I doctored up one of Greatmother’s old recipes and whipped up some spicy talbuk noodles.
LIADRIN: I must admit, sir, I didn’t realize that you cooked.
GARROSH: Garadar chili cook off champion, I’ll have you know.
MOKVAR: Weren’t you actually first runner up?
GARROSH: Not after Grok’nar had that unfortunate incident with the severe head trauma from several large rocks. Which I’m sure they’ll rule was natural causes if they ever find his body.
SHAYARI: I have to admit, he’s actually not a bad cook.
LIADRIN: I see you’re a man of many talents, sir.
GARROSH: You know, it’s funny, you’re not the first blood elf woman to tell me that.
SHAYARI: <cringing> You realize you’re just making my future therapy bills worse…
GARROSH: …this week.
SHAYARI: Welp, there’s two more months right there.
GARROSH: I guess I just need ol’ Lunchbox to get me set up at a station or something.
GURTASH: It looks like he’s getting some more setup done with Giska over there.
RUEKIE: I’ll try to watch for them, sir.
LIADRIN: In the meantime, Garrosh, allow me to introduce my daughter, Salandria. I’m sure, conversely, the Warchief needs no introduction.
GARROSH: Oh, yeah, I remember you mentioning her.
SALANDRIA: Hi, sir. Nice tats.
GARROSH: Huh. Thanks. Traditional Warsong markings.
SALANDRIA: They’re cool. <leaning and looking behind Garrosh> Soooooo, how far down do they go…?
LIADRIN: Salandria, don’t start!
SALANDRIA: I’m just asking!
LIADRIN: You know perfectly well.
SHAYARI: <squeezing eyes closed> Ohhh, spirits, please don’t let this become a thing.
GARROSH: Well, while we’re waiting on Pudge, some of you people might as well dig in for some of the talbuk-noodly goodness.
SALANDRIA: Bah, I still need to get a bowl.
MOKVAR: Here, I’ve got mine.
Mokvar passes a bowl over to Garrosh, who spoons out some noodles.
GARROSH: Yeah, here, try not to get any in your beard for once.
Garrosh holds the bowl out to Mokvar. Before Mokvar can take it, Deliana unstealths and grabs it from Garrosh’s hand.
DELIANA: Thanks! Smells good!
Deliana stealths again and vanishes.
GARROSH: Um.
Garrosh blinks, then turns back to Malkorok.
Seriously, dude, a little fucking SECURITY up in this bitch? Isn’t that kind of your whole fucking JOB?
MALKOROK: Ugh, apologies, Warchief. Although this does illustrate some issues we’ve been… ugh, regardless… <waving to nearby guards, then approaching them> Kor’kron!
GARROSH: Wait, actually…
Garrosh turns back to Mokvar.
How is it, exactly, that your little human friend is SNEAKING INTO ORGRIMMAR?
MOKVAR: Garrosh, you’ve met her. Do you really think I could make her stay away even if I wanted?
GARROSH: Yeah, well, if Malk manages to track her down, you better not hold your breath waiting for her to turn up again. Anyway, in the meantime, you can wait for your helping until she brings back your damn bowl. So… who else is up?
RUEKIE: I’d like to try some, sir!
GARROSH: Yeah, okay. Here.
Garrosh spoons a large portion of noodles into Ruekie’s bowl.
RUEKIE: Oh, wow, sir. You sure know how to give a girl a mouthful!
Everyone stares at Ruekie for a moment.
Oh gosh! I didn’t– I mean– I– I’m gonna stop talking now.
MOKVAR: At least you’ve got noodles.
Deliana unstealths and drops an empty bowl into Mokvar’s hands.
DELIANA: Here you go! Good stuff!
Deliana stealths again and vanishes.
GARROSH: <bellowing over at Malkorok> UH, MALK, ANYTIME YOU AND YOUR PEOPLE WANNA GET YOUR HEADS OUT OF YOUR ASSES WOULD BE TERRIFIC!
SALANDRIA: Is this what it’s usually like with you guys?
SHAYARI: You have no idea.
{As it turns out, the Pandaren Noodle Festival brought far more absurdity than I could hope to pack into one post, so our Orgrimmar block party will continue soon, with appearances from even more of our supporting cast. TO BE CONTINUED soon — stay tuned…}
30 Days of Character Development #10: Liadrin
[Periodically, a post will profile one of the blog’s many supporting players. (See the first profile for more details.) Feel free to chime in with recommendations for other characters you’d like to see more about!]
Name: Lady Liadrin
Occupation: Blood Knight Matriarch, paladin trainer, scholar of the Light
Race: Blood elf
Class: Paladin, priest (formerly), warrior (formerly)
Age: 209
Group affiliations: Horde (citizen), Kingdom of Quel’Thalas (citizen), Blood Knight Order (supreme leader), Shattered Sun Offensive (now disbanded; former member and officer)
Known relatives: Salandria (adopted daughter), High Priest Vandellor (surrogate father)
First appearance: “Well who woulda thought”
Key posts and plot points:
- Even though Lady Liadrin has more lore behind her than most people realize, you probably wouldn’t wouldn’t know it from her in-game appearances, which consist of a few events (albeit important ones) in The Burning Crusade and a cameo in Wrath of the Lich King, before she returned to the stage in Warlords of Draenor. Those of you who are interested in learning more about the canonical Liadrin should visit her Wowpedia page; for blog purposes, a recap of a few quick details might prove useful.
- Liadrin was the first of the Blood Knights — blood elf paladins — and remains the matriarch of the order to this day. Originally, the Blood Knights attained their command of the Light by siphoning power from the captured naaru M’uru, whom they held captive in Silvermoon (in the same cellar, notably, in which Rommath’s magisters attempted to open a sha container in this quest and this blog tie-in to said quest). After the events of Sunwell Plateau, Liadrin realized the depths of her error and repented; she went on to reform the Blood Knights and periodically address blood elf pilgrims at the Sunwell about the path that had led herself and her people to where they are today.
Garrosh was first introduced to Liadrin during the Anti-Plague of Southshore storyline. When Garrosh uncovered a likely link between the anti-necrotic effect killing the Forsaken, the creation of the Ashbringer, and possibly the naaru, Lor’themar Theron recommended Liadrin to the Warchief as an expert on all things Light-related. She eventually joined Garrosh, Mokvar, Faranell, and (spirits help us) Utvoch in traveling back in time to old Hillsbrad to find the anti-plague’s source.
- In the aftermath of the Southshore mission, Liadrin played a major role in the subsequent Timequake arc, in which our characters discovered that Faranell had inadvertently disrupted history to catastrophic effect. In the resulting alternate timeline, Liadrin was leader of the Argent Crusade and bearer of the Ashbringer (replacing a fallen Tirion Fordring) (Once again, Blizzard, WCB got there first!). With the proper timeline restored, Liadrin remains one of the only people (along with Garrosh, Mokvar, Faranell, and Utvoch) who remember the events of the alternate universe.
- After the purge of Dalaran (“Spazzle Speaks: Someone Must Have Kicked You Around Some”), Liadrin was charged by Lor’themar with helping coordinate the influx of Horde refugees into Silvermoon. While doing so, she found a half-draenei, half-orcish girl among the refugees. Weeks later, with the Warchief temporarily back in Orgrimmar, Liadrin introduced Garrosh to his daughter, Shayari.
- Liadrin has taken it upon herself to help provide a support system for Shay, and has generally become a mentor of sorts for her.
- A few years ago, during the Outland campaign, Liadrin adopted blood elf orphan Salandria, whom many players will remember as the orphan they escorted around Outland during Children’s Week. (Please try not to hold the agony of the battleground achievement against the poor girl.)
- Liadrin appears fairly adept at handling the more…difficult members of the supporting cast (I won’t name names, but smart money says the letters D and U feature prominently). Maybe it’s her background as a paladin trainer. Or experience raising a small child.
- During the time-traveling mission to Southshore, Liadrin helped cover for Mokvar on a few occasions when he wasn’t free to record transcripts, making her, albeit briefly, Garrosh’s first subtitute/alternate scribe. (Sorry, Gurtash and Tak, she beat you to it!)
Liadrin rides a horse named Redemption. She is (in blog continuity) the current wielder of Quel’Delar.
- A quick peek behind the curtain: Long, long ago, in the early days of the blog, I’d intended to draw the supporting cast (other than Spazzle, who was around from the start) from actual lore characters. (So much for that idea, huh? Gurtash, Taktani, and Shayari say hi.) While people like Garona and Saurfang appeared (and will continue to do so), I tried to draw more heavily from less prominent, peripheral characters — questgivers and other NPCs who are in the game, but were unlikely to factor significantly into Blizzard’s plans going forward. Hence we got people like Mokvar, Faranell, and, of course, Dontrag and Utvoch. Liadrin likewise fell into this group — while she had a significant place in lore, and she was a character I was rather fond of myself, she also hadn’t really been heard from since TBC, and she seemed like a character I could use for my own purposes without having to worry much about Blizzard doing something with her. And so, of course, in a move akin to a certain someone’s surprise promotion to Treasurer mini-boss, guess who Blizz decided to dust off for Warlords of Draenor? (Don’t worry, though. It’s going to end up working for me.) (In the end, they will all serve me. BWAHAHAHAAA!) (Ahem.)
In her own words:
Describe your relationship with your mother or your father. Was it good? Bad? Were you spoiled rotten, ignored? Do you still get along now, or no?
My parents were killed by Amani trolls while I was still young; in their place, High Priest Vandellor took it upon himself to raise me. He was the closest thing to a father I would ever know. It was under his guidance that I first began my study of the Light, at the time as an acolyte priestess. Vandellor died many years later, during the Scourge invasion of Quel’Thalas. My grief over the loss of Vandellor and the devastation that had been dealt to my people drove me to forsake the Light and take up the blade of a warrior. Eventually, Grand Magister Rommath would suggest an alternate path to the Light, one far less supplicating. My judgment, at the time, was…erroneous.
How vain are you? Do you find yourself attractive?
Go ahead, make the obvious blood elf jokes over that one.
That said, I like to think I’m at least as pretty as Lor’themar. Which, I suppose, is still saying something.
Is there one event or happening you would like to erase from your past? Why?
There have been losses and pains, both personal and massive in scale, that I might wish had never happened. I don’t believe that makes me very different from most who’ve lived through – or during – these past several decades. As for erasing them altogether? I’ve already seen the ripples that can follow even a tiny change in the past. What has happened has happened. It has made me who I am now, and the world what it is. Better for me to live with both.
Can you define a turning point in your life? Multiples are acceptable.
The fall of Silvermoon was one, for certain. It drove me to what I believed was my darkest, lowest point, one of anger and grief and despair. Little did I know that I would still find a lower depth to crawl into, hidden away in a Silvermoon basement.
The turning point that I think of most, though, was the one that saved me (at least I hope): the rekindling of the Sunwell. The spark of M’uru – the Naaru we had once imprisoned and fed on to empower the Blood Knights – reawakened the energies of the Sunwell and began the salvation of the very people who had once been his captors. Who had pushed M’uru onto the slow fall into darkness…
It was the moment I fully understood the true magnitude of my sins, and the moment I was offered the strength by which I might yet find redemption.
How are you with technology? Super savvy, or way behind the times? Letters or e-mail?
While I would never call myself an expert, I try to keep myself current and adequately proficient in new technology. I will never understand the impulse exhibited by some to treat age as a justification — or, worse, a mandate — for willfully falling behind. There is hardly time more pointlessly wasted than that spent stubbornly fighting yesterday’s battles.
Are you an early morning bird or a night owl?
I prefer to rise with the sun. I hate to waste daylight.
Are there any blood relatives that you are particularly close with, besides the immediate ones? Cousins, uncles, grandfathers, aunts, etc. Are there any others that you practically consider a blood relative?
Vandellor was like a father to me – more family than my real parents, whom I had never known terribly well. Likewise, though I’ve never given birth, I can’t imagine I would feel much differently about my “own” children than I do about Salandria.
What does your desk/workspace look like? Are you neat or messy?
The popular truism about genius corresponding with messiness is, I’ve found, a misconception. An orderly space goes with an orderly mind.
Are you a good cook? What’s your favorite recipe?
Goodness no. I appreciate good cooking — Vandellor was quite good at it — but I’m thoroughly, hopelessly unskilled in the kitchen myself. Thank goodness Silvermoon suffers from no shortage of restaurants, and the matriarchy of the Blood Knights carries with it fairly generous compensation.
Do you have any irrational fears?
Speaking in front of groups makes me uneasy. As a matter of professional necessity, I’ve learned to manage the anxiety to the point that I can typically go about my business without dwelling on it, but it’s never fully gone away. (What’s the old saying? It’s the mark of a professional that she does good work even when she doesn’t feel like it.)
What would your cutie mark be?
I don’t know what that is. I suspect I would be embarrassed to know. If I were 120 years younger, I suspect, I would still be embarrassed to know.
If you could time travel, where would you go?
That’s an interesting question. I’ll have to give it further consideration. In the meantime…next?
What’s your favorite comfort food, favorite vice, favorite outfit, favorite hot drink, favorite time of year, and favorite holiday?
The Wayfarer’s Rest Tavern in Silvermoon serves a venison stew that I can’t get enough of on cold days. I can’t imagine why someone would have a favorite vice, although I’ll confess that, for personal reasons, I do feel a certain sympathy for hubris. I usually wear my Blood Knight armor, but in my down time, I’m not terribly picky; if I have an opportunity to be out of my armor for a bit, my main priority is simply comfort. Ever since I was a child, I’ve been fond of swiftthistle tea with honey. There isn’t very much variation in the seasons in Eversong Woods, really, but for what little difference there is, I suppose I favor the winter — more excuses to indulge in that venison stew. The Harvest Festival, as it is observed within the Horde, resonates deeply with me: an annual reminder that, whatever our sins, the path to redemption is never beyond reach, however hard a road it may be to walk.
How do you smell? Do you wear perfume or cologne?
No perfume. It simply strikes me as…well, silly, I suppose. Though I do try to practice adequate hygiene so as not to give off any other odors. So…I smell clean, I suppose?
This was an odd note to end on. Who compiled these questions?
Previous Profiles:
- Spazzle Fizzletrinket
- Ben-Lin Cloudstrider
- Dontrag and Utvoch
- Taktani
- Korrina
- Mylune
- Mokvar
- Ruekie
- Tirion Fordring
30 Days of Character Development #7: Mokvar
[Periodically, a post will profile one of the blog’s many supporting players. (See the first profile for more details.) Feel free to chime in with recommendations for other characters you’d like to see more about.]
Name: Mokvar
Occupation: Scribe; former advisor to the Warchief; former mercenary; currently between gigs, as it were.
Race: Orc
Class: Warlock (currently and formerly), shaman (formerly)
Age: 44
Group affiliations: Horde (former citizen, currently banished), Earthen Ring (former member), Veiled Blade (former member)
Known relatives: Drulla (mother, deceased), Vokmar (father, deceased), ex-wife (heretofore unnamed)
Earth Online notes: Founding member and officer of Garrosh’s guild <Warchief>; presumably demoted from officer status since falling out of good graces with Garrosh, though it’s currently unclear if he’s actually been demoted or gkicked. Main toon is Bartleby (class unknown); has at least one alt, LamontCranston (not a member of <Warchief> and unknown by most of the guild, possibly all but Spazzle).
First appearance: “Visiting Ashenvale” (first mention), “Underneath the bunker” (first transcript)
Key posts and plot points:
- Garrosh first mentioned Mokvar in the very early days of the blog, during an inspection trip to Ashenvale. After completing an aerial bombing run over Astralaan, the Warchief was most irate that Mokvar wasn’t able to adequately sketch him walking away from the resulting explosions; Garrosh ordered Mokvar back to Orgrimmar to train up inscription under pain of, well, pain. (Interestingly, the job of keeping visual records of some of Garrosh’s expolits would eventually fall to Gurtash in the form of his comics.)
- Mokvar would return a few weeks later in “Underneath the bunker” to record the first of many transcripts of the Warchief’s dealings. (Also of note is that this transcript marked the first appearance of Dontrag and Utvoch.) From that point on, Mokvar would frequently accompany the Warchief in his adventures, recording Garrosh’s discussions with such luminaries as Tirion Fordring (“Where did all the words go?”), Mylune (not once but twice), Garona and Johnny Awesome (“Awesome job, Mokvar”).
- Mokvar traveled back in time to old Hillsbrad with Garrosh, Liadrin, Faranell, and Utvoch in an attempt to trace the origin of a magic “anti-plague” that was devastating the Forsaken (The Anti-Plague of Southshore). While there, Faranell switched places with a past version of himself and inadvertently set off a series of events that would eventually cause massive disruptions to the timeline (Timequake). In the ensuing chaos, Mokvar was one of the only people to be aware of the changes that had occurred, and helped the Warchief reset history to its proper course. To this day, Mokvar remains one of the only people – along with Garrosh, Liadrin, and Faranell – who remembers the events that transpired in the other timeline. (Okay, yes, Utvoch remembers, too…but would you really bet your next paycheck on him understanding any of it?)
- Just before Garrosh left for Pandaria, Mokvar was attacked and killed under mysterious circumstances (“Death of the author”), though his death was made temporary by his ability to ankh as a shaman. This brush with death marked the beginning of the Mokvar saga that continues to this day; a detailed, post-by-post account can be found here, but here’s the semi-sorta-short version: In his mercenary days before coming to Orgrimmar, when he was a member of the Veiled Blade, Mokvar had acquired, then disposed of, a powerful warlock relic called the Nether Prism; now, years later, the Prism’s prior owner (the drakonid lord Valthalak) has sent spectral assassins after Mokvar in an effort to recover his prize. Mokvar reunited with old mercenary friend Deliana to try to recover the Prism, then launched into a run of suspicious, erratic behavior – traveling to Ironforge under diplomatic cover, then being charged with the murder of one of its citizens; turning for aid to Neeru Fireblade, then, even more damningly, Magatha Grimtotem; breaking out of Orgrimmar while under arrest, leading to his eventual banishment from the Horde.
After Mokvar disappeared from Orgrimmar, he remained off the grid for several months, save for elemental indications to fellow shaman Spazzle that he may have met his final demise. Ji Firepaw, however, wasn’t willing to give up hope for Mokvar’s survival (and rightly so – did anyone really think that I was not only going to kill off Mokvar, but do so off-screen? Really?), and continued investigating Mokvar’s whereabouts. Ji’s search eventually led him to Blackrock Spire, where Mokvar made his dramatic, fel-infused return in “The scouring of the Spire.”
- True story: I originally introduced Mokvar not even as a real character, but as a plot device to justify inclusion of the transcripts. I realized early on that I wanted to include dialogue in the blog, but I didn’t feel like it would fit stylistically to have Garrosh writing it out as it would appear in a novel – one thing I try to maintain (with ranging degrees of success) is the appearance that Garrosh really is writing everything in the blog, as a blog, rather than a short-story-but-we’ll-call-it-a-blog-even-though-we-know-it’s-really-not-wink-wink. Mokvar as a scribe provided an excuse to include that extra material. Another true story: When I was first choosing Garrosh’s scribe, I pretty much went into Grommash Hold and semi-randomly picked someone who looked like he didn’t have much else to do. Who knew?
- For the fashion/transmog-minded among you: Mokvar’s warlock attire is roughly based on the Tier 9 warlock set.
- Mokvar’s Earth Online character, Bartleby, is a reference to the title character in Herman Melville’s short story “Bartleby the Scrivener.” (Scrivener = scribe!) Mokvar likewise references the story on a few occasions when he repeats Bartleby’s signature line, “I would prefer not to.”
- For anyone who hasn’t pieced it together by this point: Mokvar’s close connection to Deliana is based on their parallel in-game roles. Pre-Cataclysm, Mokvar (in Orgrimmar) and Deliana (in Ironforge) were the questgivers who sent adventurers on the (very long and painful) quest chains to upgrade the old “Tier 0.5” dungeon sets. The two characters offered essentially the same quests, which provided the basis for much of the in-blog backstory about Lord Valthalak. (Valthalak’s spirit was the end boss for that quest chain, by the way, and for anyone who missed it during vanilla, fighting him at level was a NIGHTMARE.)
In his own words:
In there one event or happening you would like to erase from your past? Why?
My last job with the Veiled Blade, when we went into Blackrock Spire to collect Valthalak’s goodies. It turned out to be nothing but trouble, and cost most of us our lives – all of us, in fact, other than me and Deliana. (And strictly speaking, it cost me my life, too; it just didn’t stick. So, congratulations to Deliana for being the last one left standing. Was anyone running a pool?)
What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Color? Song? Flower?
Tigule and Foror’s Lok’tar S’more-gar. Cerulean blue. The Lokvad’nod Broxigari. Any daisies I’m not pushing up.
Who do you trust?
After everything we’ve been through, I trust Deliana with my life. The same goes for Ji and Spazzle. I trust Thrall and Eitrigg implicitly, and I’ll probably always be grateful to Thrall for giving me a safe haven all those years ago. I trust Liadrin for her judgment, Saurfang for general badassery, and Garrosh…well, I trust Garrosh to be Garrosh.
How are you with technology? Super savvy, or way behind the times? Letters or email?
I’m no Spazzle, but I’m good enough with technology to get by. I’m not really what you would call tech literate in the broad sense, but I do okay with specific tasks on specific devices; once I learn how to do something, I’m usually fine, but then I don’t like to stray too far from what I know, even if something new and better comes along. I still prefer to write by hand, but I usually end up having to type things out – people are always complaining about my handwriting.
How do you react to temperature changes such as extreme heat and cold?
Heat doesn’t bother me at all. I hardly even notice it. Cold, on the other hand… spirits, I hate the cold. You could not have paid me enough money to go to Northrend.
Are you an early morning bird or a night owl?
Neither, really. I have pretty strange sleep habits: I usually tend to sleep for 2-3 hours at a time, scattered around random times in the day. It’s a holdover from my mercenary days, when we would often have to be on the move on short notice; I developed the ability to sneak in what sleep I could when I could, and it’s stayed with me. So now you’re equally likely to catch me awake at some odd hour in the middle of the night, or asleep in the middle of the day. It’s the main reason why I don’t like surprise visitors. That and the recent habit that surprise visitors have been getting into of trying to kill me.
What’s your preferred means of travel?
On wolfback. I like feeling my feet on the ground…or at least my wolf’s feet, indirectly. If I have to fly, I’d rather take a zeppelin or gunship. I’ve never gotten completely comfortable on a wyvern (although I still prefer them to bats or dragonhawks or…well, I don’t know how people manage to keep their balance on those carpets). I’ll fly on one if I need to, and I have lots of times – it just makes me uneasy while I’m up there.
If you could time travel, where would you go?
Don’t even joke about that.
Are you superstitious?
I definitely believe that there’s something out there that’s either looking out for me, or has it in for me. I’m still not sure which. Check back with me again another time. Unless I’m dead, in which case we probably have our answer.
What might your ideal romantic partner be?
Someone calm, grounded. Stable. Not prone to emotional swings or extreme highs and lows. Someone who’s figured themselves out, gotten comfortable with themselves, grown out of the drama and the need for everything to be a thrill ride.
If your life were a genre, what would it be?
Pretty definitely something in the action/adventure area, or at least a suspense thriller. Be careful what you wish for, I suppose. Sometimes I think I should have listened to my mother and been a banker instead. When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to go out into the world and have adventures. Thirty years of adventures later, I think I’ve had more than enough excitement. I’d love to be bored. I’d love to settle down comfortably in a quiet corner of Orgrimmar once we get to the other side of all this, and age into some old man who everyone considers pretty dull and uninteresting, except for every so often when he rattles off another one of his crazy stories — which most of the kids probably won’t believe really happened anyway. I think I’ll enjoy that.
Previous Profiles:
