Tag Archives: mortimer
Sha hunting
I’m giving the blood elves a few days to see if they can get anywhere with Shan Kien — that’s the name of that mogu dude we captured in the Valley of Emperors — but in the meantime I’m going to try to explore other avenues. From what I’ve been able to gather, the mogu’s Divine Bell artifact was able to focus and infuse the power of what the pandas call sha. Basically dark power come alive, sparked by emotions like anger or fear. And even though this Divine Bell sounds like it’s the key to harnessing this sha power to the fullest, that doesn’t mean we can’t do a little testing at the source.
After we’d finished our visit to Tian Monastery the other day, Burzum had stayed behind to see if he could learn a few new tricks from the pandas. I had Gurtash stay with him, and after I’d left for the Sanctum of Two Moons, I had the rest of the DPS kids brought over to do a little hand-to-hand combat training. Now, personally I’m not so big on the fancy martial arts moves — I’m a much bigger fan of just pummeling your opponents to death when you’re not hacking them into little pieces with an axe. But then, that’s ME. Seeing as I’m 300 lbs. of rock-solid awesome and not some skinny fourteen-year-old, I don’t really NEED a whole lot of bells and whistles in my asskicking toolkit. But I figure it might be good for the kids to see if there’s anything useful they can pick up from the pandas.
Also, side note, since I forgot to mention this before — on the way back from Tian, I made a stop at this place nearby called the Arboretum, where they train cloud serpents for some big race. It took some doing, but I managed to talk them into letting me participate in the race even though I didn’t have my own cloud serpent. I will neither confirm nor deny that “talking them into” this involved slapping a few pandas around. Anyway, the race was pretty fun, and you seriously should have seen the looks on the other riders’ faces — and their cloud serpents, for that matter — when Mortimer left them all in the dust. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again: wyvern > all.
Anyhow, I digress.
Getting back to the actual business at hand, I’m having Burzum head down to a temple in that neck of the woods that’s been hit by a pretty major sha infestation. Temple of the Jade something-or-other, which really doesn’t help narrow it down much, seeing as it’s in a region called the Jade Forest, and half the stuff around there is called the Jade Whatever-Whatever. Lesson: them pandas sure do love them some jade.
Meanwhile, I’m assigning Krimpatul to investigate another temple not far from our base at Domination Point, a little ways to the north. I hear tell there was a major sha outbreak there until pretty recently, so he might be able to learn something there. While they’re both doing their thing, I’m going to do some extra checking around in the northern mountains, and then the two blademasters will meet me there to compare notes. I hear tell there’s another major monastery in the northwest part of Kun-Lai Summit, so it might be worth convening there and seeing what the monks have to tell us.
More soon.
Landfall
Greetings from Pandaria, bitches!
We arrived yesterday and we’re well underway getting set up. Our scouts had found a good location for a base along the southwestern shore of the Krasarang Wilds, and sent up a signal for us once the fleet was in range. Once we brought everyone ashore, work on an outpost here got rolling.
Get this, though. Turns out, at practically the exact same time, an ALLIANCE force landed at the EASTERN end of the Krasarang Wilds and started building a base THERE. Which first of all, what are the odds of THAT timing, and also, for fuck’s sake, will people stop ripping off all my ideas? I’ll tell you right now, if Varian starts writing poetry too, I’m going to lose my shit.
Anyway, this meant that shortly after we arrived, we had bunches of Alliance troops showing up and attacking. And what THIS meant? That yours truly got to get out there and mix it up with some humans, something I haven’t done in way too long. You should have seen the looks on their faces, by the way. Like “Holy shit, it’s Garrosh Hellscream!” “Holy shit, he’s kicking our asses!” “Holy shit, where did the bottom half of my torso go?”
So things are coming along now. Blood Guard Gro’tash, Commander Scargash, and Rak’gor Bloodrazor are heading up the defenses while we build. Meanwhile I’m sending Malkorok ahead to the Shrine of Two Moons, where I hear the last wave of Horde have set up camp, to check things out and also get Belloc Brightblade from the Reliquary started researching this race that used to rule Pandaria before the pandas took over. There should be more Reliquary types on the way to join him once the rest of the blood elf ships arrive with Regent-Lord Ponytail. Plus we’ve got one more wave of troops coming from Kalimdor to fill out our numbers here in Krasarang.
The only down side at this point is that my internet is pretty spotty. Grizzle Gearslip, who’s overseeing most of the building project, seems to know his shit where construction is concerned, but he’s not the computer whiz Spazzle is. I’ve only been able to get online sporadically with this laptop, and I don’t know if that’s going to change anytime soon, so I’m trying not to push my luck. Definitely not rolling the dice trying to play Earth Online, for instance. Hopefully Mokvar and Spazzle have been helping fill the void and can keep it up for the time being.
Also, by the way, while we were going around roflstomping Alliance, I got my first chance to break in Mortimer’s new armor, compliments of Gurtash. Check it out:
Pretty badass, huh? The only thing Mortimer doesn’t seem too thrilled about is the horns attached to the headpiece. Personally I think they look all hardcore, kind of like he’s got his own version of those tusks of Mannoroth’s that I wear. But Mortimer just keeps giving me the same face he did last Winter Veil when I made him wear those fake reindeer antlers.
Oh, speaking of Winter Veil, by the way, before I left for this trip, I wrote up a guest post for Typhoon Andrew as part of Blog Azeroth’s Furtive Father Winter gift exchange. You should totally check it out here if you haven’t already, even if it turns out it IS an Alliance blog.
Fucking Alliance.
Monday mailbag
So it’s been a while since I did a mailbag. How long, you ask? GOOD QUESTION. And the answer is, so long that in the intervening time I’ve gotten not one, but TWO letters from our old buddy ACC, so why don’t we get to it before he dashes off ANOTHER one, and start working our way through the ACC backlog. As usual, actual letters from actual readers…
And greetings from the not-so-frozen South. Pro tip: NEVER go on a boat with General Nazgrim. I don’t know what he did to offend the Boat Gods, but… This is twice now that I’ve boarded a serviceable ship and disembarked from kindling. Mind you, there’s hardly anyone else I’d rather be with in a scrap. If you’re headed to a hot LZ you want him there with you, just don’t let him drive. Can’t add anything to what’s already been said about our allies and opponents except that while I’d pick semi-sentient monkeys over super-evolved murlocs any day, the “epic” clash was the goat-rope to end all goat-ropes. The least said about that, the better.
You’ve already heard about the giant vegetables in the Valley of the Four Winds. Turns out that the water makes for some pretty big beasties, too. And where there’s big game, you KNOW who’s not far behind. That’s right, Hemet Nesingwary’s pulled stakes from Sholazar and headed South. And be brought his boy with him. Got to say, it was awesome seeing them together. When you get down this way, you ought to swing by their camp and take a look around.
One other thing before I get back to work: that issue you mentioned last time? This place forces you to deal with things like that. What you bring within yourself draws spirits out of the land itself. Harsh therapy, but effective. I still stand by the necessity of what we did, but I do (slightly) regret the intemperate zeal.
–A Concerned Citizen
Ahh, so THAT’s where Hemet and his kid disappeared off to. Good to hear, ACC – maybe now the old man can finally teach the kid a thing or two so he won’t be QUITE as big a fuck-up. It was always pretty embarrassing dropping by their camp in Stranglethorn, and having the guy supposedly in charge be far and away the least competent hunter there. Then again, I guess that’s the way management tends to go, right? Mediocrity rises, so the person in charge usually winds up being the biggest dumbass?
Anyway, good point about Nazgrim. No question as to his military skills, but for future engagements I’m thinking I might send him in AFTER the initial wave, so I can just have him ported in without having to roll the dice putting him on another ship. Though come to think of it, that could make for an interesting experiment…like if we put him on a vehicle to some other part of Pandaria right now, would that one crash too? If I told him to take one of the pandas’ balloons somewhere, would the balloon go all hydrogen bomb clear out of the blue? Is anyone else thinking I might seriously have to try some of this out once I get down there, even if unbeknownst to Nazgrim I’d be putting his physical safety at sustained risk for no reason other than a puckish blend of curiosity and thirst for amusement?
There’s a rumor going around that the EO servers are shutting off this coming Friday. Heard anything about this?
–A Concerned Citizen
Wait, what? Shutting off as in permanently? I know they usually have some downtime for maintenance, but that’s usually on Tuesdays, isn’t it? Why would they shut down the game? They only just put out a new expansion. I mean yeah, they lost some subscribers the last year or so, but still, I don’t see them shutting down at this point.
Or is this some kind of in-game apocalypse deal? Because you DO get some of those RP-happy people who are all about the second coming of that Jesus guy. Who, by the way, could they make it any more obvious where they got THAT lore character from? I mean, come on…he walks on water and comes back from the dead, so he obviously has to be a shaman, and he’s all hippy granola-crunchy let’s-all-get-along-and-be-friends, and millions of people just dote over him and think he’s the most awesome thing, which just feeds into his whole deal where he thinks he’s the ultimate savior, and come on, could they make it any more painfully obvious who he’s supposed to be? We might as well just call him Beige Thrall. Although I don’t know why people make such a big deal about him coming back. Do they really expect the guy to just show up again and take over or something?
This parchment has a few sketches around the edges in multicolored inks. Dontrag and Utvoch are recognizable, as are Nazgrel and Neferatti. The remaining sketches are of a naaru, a warp stalker, and a nether ray. The lettering is spaced a bit erratically and is far from ornate, but is readable without excessive effort.
Dear Mr Warchief Sir:
I herd abot Mr Mokvar. I hop he gets bettr soon. I kno you need a scrib now, and I want to voula valun help. I hav ben trayning with a teechr who says Im doing much bettr than I was. I wud tell you all abot her and abot evrything Ive bin doing, but that wud tak too long and I want to mail this now. Pleese let me be your scrib!
The letter is signed with an inky pawprint and the name “Taktani.”
Um…
<sigh>
Yeah, how about I get back to you on that.
Fucking hell, somebody get me a list of the inscription trainers and vendors around here, there’s gotta be SOMEONE I can rope into taking this damn job…
In unrelated news HEY EVERYBODY KEEP THOSE SCRIBE APPLICATIONS COMING IN, and hoo boy, Mokvar, heal up fast, dude.
I have been spending a good deal of time in Pandaria per your orders and have been getting to know the natives. Recently I took a quick trip home for a bit of a break and a grave injustice has become apparent to me.
In Panderia the natives are more than happy to allow me to have one of my pets hanging around with me. They are more than happy to serve grain to my goat Moe while I am enjoying refreshments of my own. That same scene does not play out at home. I was actually kicked out of Silvermoon City by one of those constructs that what’s his name has running around the city because one of my felines had a small accident in the city. I was in the process of cleaning it up when I was ushered out of the city. Even in Ogrimmar people get testy if one of my pets is curled up at my feet while I enjoy a drink.
Is there something you could do to make Hunter pets more welcome in Horde areas? They put their lives on the line in the service of the Horde same as any other veteran in your army. We train them well and they are not dangerous to civilians that keep their hands off of them.
Thank you for your time Warchief,
–Toka Armripper
Hey Toka. Well, you know, legally speaking, pets are kosher here in Orgrimmar. I can’t really speak for what they do in Silvermoon – the business with the construct-robot-thingy seems kind of lame, but that’s Regent-Lord Ponytail for you. Maybe he’s afraid the smell from any potential pet accidents might soak into his conditioner or some shit. Point is, though, over in Silvermoon or Undercity or Thunder Bluff or, hell, the Echo Isles, they all set their local ordinances about pets, and frankly, I get enough headaches from the other city leaders trying to get them go along with my orders on the big stuff like war and conscription and glorious battle…I don’t want to even THINK about the caterwauling I’ll have to deal with if I start trying to meddle around with smaller local regulations like pet control too. Sylvanas will probably give me another one of her speeches about centralized government versus cities’ rights.
As for people getting testy in Orgrimmar if you bring your pets into the bar with you, well, frankly, fuck ’em. Really. The law here is that your pets are allowed in there as long as you keep them under control, so if people don’t like it, fuck ’em. That’s the one thing – no matter what the law is, there’s not much you can do about people’s attitudes, so like it or not, there are always going to be some malcontents who are going to grumble. I mean, hell, a couple weeks ago I was taking Mortimer around Orgrimmar to stretch his legs a little, and he went sniffing up to this old orc woman – and I don’t mean the fit, MILFy kind of older orc woman like Garona, I mean old and cranky and bloated and draped in fur-lined imperial silk robes for no reason other than LOOK AT ME I’M FANCY and hasn’t done a sit-up since the Second War. And so Mortimer started sniffing at her, and I told her not to worry, he’s friendly. And she was all sneery like, “Well I’m not an animal lover.” And so I said, “That’s okay, he’s not a heartless unfeeling cow lover.” And of course just then there were a couple tauren walking by, so, you know, awkward.
Random Weirdness spotted – Oppan Garrosh Style
[If you’re unable to view the embedded video, you can link to it here.]
I’m just…
that was…
uh…
Ok.
–Quelita, Tarren Mill
Yeah, what of it?
I slaughter Alliance, I write EPIC VERSE, I sing.
It’s called being a triple threat. Deal with it, bitches.
That’s it for this time around. As always, keep those letters coming to garrosh1337@gmail.com.
They grow up so fast
Yesterday I ended up sneaking out of the war room to drop by the Orgrimmar orphanage. It was Gurtash’s birthday — he’s fourteen now, can you believe it? — so I thought I’d treat him to a little hunting trip. Hopefully this would go a little less WTFly than that last fishing trip.
We took the zeppelin to Grom’gol in Stranglethorn. (Have to admit, as we pulled up to the docking tower I took a minute to look around the base and enjoy the fact that we were still there in full force.) From there, we spent most of the day wandering around the jungle hunting tigers, panthers, raptors, a few crocolisks. None of the animals in STV pose any kind of a threat to me, obviously, but I figured they’d be a decent challenge for Gurtash. Turns out, the kid’s actually pretty decent with an axe. I mean, the animals out in Nagrand would make mincemeat of him, but for a kid his age he’s not bad at all. I tried showing him a few extra tricks while we were out there — gotta say, after a couple dozens panthers’ worth of practice, he was getting pretty good at the old “heroic leap away then charge in to stun your target” move.
Since we were locked into hunting mode, I figured we should drop by the Nesingwary camp while we were in the neighborhood, but as it turns out, Hemet Jr. was nowhere to be seen. I guess he took off with the old man a couple weeks ago. Who knows, maybe Hemet Sr. will teach the kid a thing or two and he’ll finally stop being such a clueless fuck-up legacy kid.
While we were wandering around the jungle late in the afternoon, you’ll never guess who Gurtash and I ran into — Ji Firepaw and a few of his junior panda trainees. I guess he had taken them out to STV to get some hunting practice themselves, only now the bunch of them were busy digging some big hole in the ground. When I asked what it was for, Ji said they were setting a trap for a heffalump them were tracking. Which led to my next question: What the fuck is a heffalump? Based on how Ji described them, they sounded kind of like elekks. So I was quick to point out that, you know, elekks are native to Draenor, and so unless there are some dismounted draenei running around here, I’m thinking there wasn’t any such thing in the neighborhood. I tried to explain this to Ji, but all he had to say on the matter was “You can never tell with heffalumps.”
Still, Ji and the Panda Brigade seemed pretty full-on certain that there WAS a bunch of these heffalump things on the loose, and that they’d been tracking them through the jungle, so fine. I asked them to show us the tracks, so they took us to a nearby spot where, sure enough, there were tracks…of the pudgy bear-paw-looking variety. And so Ji went on and on about how they followed one set of tracks through the jungle, and after a while they were joined by more, so they figured there had to be more of these heffalumps grouping up. Maybe to raid ZG, who knows. And while they were explaining all this, mind you, there were taking Gurtash and me around following the tracks…until eventually we’d wandered around in a circle all the way back to where we first found them, and right at that point Ji and the others had a little mini-shitfit, because HOLY CRAP look at that MORE TRACKS. And just…yeah. These guys are for sure going to be difference-makers in this war.
So I finally convinced the pandas to give up on the whole heffalump thing, and we all headed back to Orgrimmar. The pandas tagged along while I brought Gurtash back to the orphanage, because I made the mistake of mentioning it was Gurtash’s birthday, and it took the pandas all of 2.3 seconds to do the mental math that led them to OMG CAKE. To be fair, Ji seemed to hit it off pretty well with Matron Battlewail — the two of them went on chatting for a good long while — and the pandas in general were a pretty big hit with the kids, especially the younger ones.
While I was there, Gurtash showed me a project he was working on for his leatherworking class — a really badass set of flight armor for Mortimer, complete with a heavy-duty embossed harness (just like the one I put on my Winter’s Veil list last year that FOR SOME REASON NOBODY GOT ME) and a headpiece with these big, nasty-looking horns sticking out of it. Really nice job, I’ve got to say, although I’m not sure why they’ve got the kid learning leatherworking when he’s obviously cut out to be a warrior. But whatever.
So that was my day. Gotta say, it’s always nice to have these days away from the war room with Gurtash, not least of all because he actually manages to show a little appreciation, as opposed to the complainers and ingrates I’m usually surrounded by. It’s actually gotten me thinking — Gurtash has been coming around helping with Mortimer and such for almost a year now…maybe it would be a good thing for both of us if he were around all the time. He’s been stuck over at the orphanage since before the Cataclysm…maybe it’s time the kid had a real home again. I don’t know, what do you say? Think I would make a good dad?
Don’t let my legendary axe or legions of heavily armed enforcers influence your answer there at all, by the way.
Oh bother
You know how, after Pilgrim’s Bounty, you always wind up having so much leftover turkey and stuffing and whatnot that you look in your kitchen and think, “How am I EVER going to eat all this stuff?” And then the answer ends up being that you eat that shit for every meal every day until you get so sick of it you swear you’re never going to eat turkey again for as long as you live?
Yeah, well let me tell you, having a bunch of pandaren around fixes that problem DAMN quick. I don’t know what this “Huojin” thing is that these pandas all belong to, but I wouldn’t be surprised at all if “Huojin” turned out to translate as “Are you going to finish that?”
Anyway, speaking of the pandas, Ji Firepaw has been taking his people around Kalimdor to get the lay of the land, chip in to help where they can (read: busywork), and get some experience for the greener pandas in the group. And that’s all good, but I’m also starting to get the distinct impression that Ji is going to be a whole bunch of work. Case in point: earlier today he was taking some of the Panda Brigade around in Ashenvale when he spotted some bees buzzing around the top of a tree. And I figure ol’ Ji must have thought to himself, “The only reason for there to be bees is for them to make honey. And the only reason for them to make honey is so I can eat it.” Because, you know, always thinking with his stomach.
So, from what the other pandas tell me, Ji tried to climb up the tree, but that wasn’t happening because cellulite, so he came running back to Orgrimmar to get working on Plan B. And you know that hot air balloon that the pandas used to come here from the Wandering Isle? The one that they’ve got hovering over their digs in the Valley of Honor? Yeah, well, Ji hopped on up onto the balloon, and back to Ashenvale he went.
All of this for some damn honey, by the way. You realize we have, like, vendors selling the shit by the case, right?
But boy oh boy, Ji didn’t think of that, because apparently you just don’t fucking think straight when you’re a panda who hasn’t eaten in like five minutes. So off he went with his balloon, and floated his way over to Ashenvale and right on up to the honey tree, and wound up dangling himself from the balloon trying to reach in for his snack. And you know what he found out? Brace yourselves: BEES DON’T FUCKING LIKE IT WHEN YOU MESS WITH THEIR HONEY. Can you believe that shit?
So now Ji’s dangling up there while trying to swat bees away from himself, and all his thrashing around sends the balloon floating away from the bee hive and crashing into ANOTHER tree. And get this — in the process, he managed to fly right into a hole in THAT tree, and jam himself in there right up to the waist, nice and tight.
Seriously, I like Ji, he seems like a good guy and all, but could dude be any more of a cartoon character?
Anyway, it was at this point that all of Ji’s panda buddies came scrambling into Grommash Hold to ask for help, so I headed over to check on the absurdity in progress. I flew up with Mortimer to where Ji’d gotten himself stuck and tried to yank him out, without much luck. I tried giving him a talking to while I was up there, but I think it fell on deaf ears — I was like, “Dude, did the thought never cross your mind that the bees might not like you fucking with their hive?”, but all he had to say was “Well, you can never tell with bees.”
It was pretty clear by then that we weren’t going to pull Ji out of the tree from up there, so I called in a few peons from the Warsong Lumber Camp to chop the damn tree down.
Ji broke three ribs and an arm in the fall. “Bouncy” my ass.
Punch line, by the way? Turns out, the hole in the second tree was actually home to a second bee hive. I don’t know where THOSE bees went off to, whether they got knocked out of the tree when Ji went careening into it, or if they saw the ridiculousness happening and went “Fuck this shit, we’re out,” or what. But they were long gone, which meant that while we were busy trying to get Ji down, he was busy stuffing his face with honey. So even when we got the tree down, fat lot of good — literally — trying to pull Ji out. Instead, the Warsong boys just cut away as much of the tree as possible around Ji…who’s going to be stuck walking around wearing a nice snug wooden belt until his newly mandated diet starts to kick in.
Pandas.
Monday mailbag
Well, I asked for reports from the field, and as always, my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS stepped up to the plate and delivered. There were a bunch of you who offered your scouting reports from Pandaria in the comments on my original post – I’d recommend having a look if you missed them, so you can see some of the early recon reports along with my responses – while some of you decided to write in to me directly.
So, let’s have at it.
This first one was actually posted as an open letter on Vanicus’ blog, which I’m reproducing here:
Dear Warchief,
You requested reports from the field in Pandaria. I have recently been on assignment in the southernmost part of the continent, in an area known as the Krasarang Wilds. It was there that I ran into a bipedal reptilian species known as the Saurok. I was fighting three of these creatures when, unbeknownst to me, a fourth unstealthed behind me. Suddenly this flying ball of fur and claws whipped past my head, and when I bested my opponents and turned around, this tiny windrider cub had attached himself to the Saurok’s face. Henceforth, he has followed me everywhere, and, given his bravery, loyalty, and ability to watch my back even at such a young age, I thought it appropriate to give him a worthy name. I have long been an admirer of your own Mortimer, and hope that mine will live up to the name.
F.Y.V.
–Crusader Vanicus, Krasarang Wilds
Okay, so you know what, Vanicus? That’s just fantastic. Glad to see you getting on board the wyverns-are-awesome bandwagon. Believe me, you won’t regret keeping the little guy around. If anything, he’s sure to provide you with heaps of entertainment when enemies underestimate him and then promptly find themselves getting WTFpwned.
One recommendation, though – make sure you’re diligent about keeping your food stored away somewhere he can’t get to it. And do NOT underestimate the little furball when you’re sizing up “somewhere he can’t get to it.” Those wyverns are RESOURCEFUL. Seriously. I’m at least 80% sure that a group of wyverns could cure cancer tomorrow if they thought there was a crate of fresh clefthoof steak in it for them. And the last thing you need with ANY pet is for them to start getting fat, much less a pet whose calling card is the ability to FLY.
Side note, by the way – I’ve gotten a few notices on the Krasarang Wilds area. Sounds like an interesting place, definitely worth keeping in mind for future operations. It also seems like a fairly tropical area, which I have to say sounds kind of odd. Follow along with me here: Pandaria is in the southern end of the ocean. The Krasarang Wilds cover the southernmost part of the continent. Which means that that zone should be relatively close to Azeroth’s south pole, so…you know…shouldn’t it be kind of COLD there? Rather than all jungly and hospitable for cold-blooded reptilian races?
I mean, I would boggle more at the utter weirdness of Azerothian geography that it apparently gets WARMER as you go from the equator to the south pole, but then again, I hail from the shattered remains of a planet consisting of one big, flat chunk of rock that somehow still manages to maintain an atmosphere and gravitational field. So, you know, who am I to criticize?
I have begun my exploration of Pandaria as you requested. I am currently focusing my attention on a region called the Valley of the Four Winds. I must admit that my exploration has slowed down a lot here as the locals have offered me the chance to take up farming! This was very new and exciting for me. Having grown up in Silvermoon, I never had the chance to take up agriculture. With all the mages, we would usually just conjure up our food. You wouldn’t believe the difference it makes to have the fresh grown variety!
I would highly recommend paying a visit here when you have the chance, if only for the cuisine. I’ve always been an amateur cook (I even made my EO character the chef class!) and I’m amazed by the variety of cooking styles here. There are whole schools of recipes, like the wok, the grill, the steamer, etc. I may need to get out of here before I get fat.
–Tandeleina, Halfhill
Oh come on now – you’re a blood elf, right? Has a blood elf EVER gotten fat? Or is that just because of the whole magic addiction thing? Once you start using the Arcane Patch, does that put you in danger of putting on some pounds?
Anyway, Tandeleina, thanks for writing. I guess it’ll be a good thing that our troops will be eating well once they get down there. I can’t say I’m surprised that the pandas went all out developing different styles of cooking, considering how seriously they take their beer-brewing. Eat, drink, and be merry, right?
Also, since you mentioned Earth Online, can I just say how MADDENING it is to level the cooking secondary profession there? Maybe it’s different when it’s your actual character class, but those recipes are INSANE. They use like ten times as many ingredients as anything in real life, and the process of cooking them is so ridiculously long and complicated. I don’t know how ANYONE has the patience to level that shit up.
I have spent most of my time in Pandaria studying the geology and mineralogy of this new continent. I am pleased to report an unusually high concentration of a new metal ore in this region, (called “ghost iron” by the local residents). Said ore contains a great number of high quality (and very beautiful) gems which are able to absorb and store an astonishing amount of magical essence — almost six and a half times more than the highest quality of gem previously known. Day by day I continue my research in this area. I believe my findings shall be most profitable.
However, this new continent may provide the solution to an even more desperate material concern: that of provisioning our armies and feeding our citizens. I am no agricultural expert, but even I can tell that gaining control of the region known as the Valley of the Four Winds would solve this problem at a stroke. Since words are insufficient to explain what I mean, I have enclosed a picture:
As you can see, this land is incredibly fertile and produces vegetables the size of which can scarcely be comprehended. Local farmers attribute the size of their crops to the magical waters that pour into the valley. I respectfully recommend further research into the properties of this water.
There are a few other oddities that might deserve further study. For instance, I have no idea what to make of the flocks of flying turtles:
They seemed harmless enough… but one can never be too certain. I noticed a mage running around near the turtles cackling maniacally, so perhaps the turtles have some detrimental effect on the mind? So I killed them. The turtles and the mage. Just to be safe.
Finally, I hear that you are looking to procure new creatures for gladiatorial combat. Might I recommend pitting some of the Pandarian virmen against some murlocs?
Respectfully Yours,
–Karalina, Valley of the Four Winds
Thanks for writing, Karalina, but man, what’s up with everybody thinking with their stomachs today? Do you know Tandeleina? Were you two roommates at Silvermoon University or something, and took on the freshman fifteen together?
So, on the plus side, HOLY CRAP them’s some huge vegetables. On the down side…well, they’re frigging VEGETABLES. Show me a magical, bottomless source of 800-pound slabs of bacon, and THEN I’ll be impressed. Still, I suppose the giant rabbit food must be good for something. Other than, you know, raising giant rabbits. Or are you going to tell me they have those out there, too? Point being, though, I suppose giant carrots and cabbages and such would probably be pretty handy to someone. They’d probably go over like gangbusters at the salad bars they have up in Silvermoon. And they might actually make for a nice finishing touch over in the Valley of Spirits, come to think of it. (You trolls wanted more food? WELL HERE YOU GO, HAVE SOME MORE MOTHERFUCKING FOOD.)
Interesting about the water up there, though. Definitely something to follow up on. I may see about getting Faranell down there on assignment to do some alchemical research on the stuff. You know, as soon as I can arrange for some supervision for him, to make sure he doesn’t default to old habits and next thing we know the whole valley is one giant orchard of 50-pound PlagueApples. (I can just hear him now – “Well no, green apple is a very popular flavor these days.” “GREEN apple, Edwin, not fucking GREEN AND FUMING NOXIOUS VAPORS…”)
What are these “virmen” things, by the way? Whatever they are, gotta admit, setting ANYTHING up to kill murlocs for my amusement is going to be a pretty easy sell.
This letter arrives on a very, very long scroll of parchment which is almost completely covered in drawings. The words of the letter are scattered almost randomly throughout the sketches of Kalimdor creatures, and the ink colors of both drawings and words span the entire rainbow. Surprisingly, the handwriting is rather legible, despite a few mirrored letters and shaky lines.
Deer Mr Warcheif Sir,
Mr U and Mr D hav bin very nice to me. They told me what you sed, and I hav sum ansers for you. I had cak becuz I askd for it, and becuz I wud hav made it myself if no one did for me. I sed so, and evryon ran around making cak for me. It was funni. I did meet Mr D to, but he dosnt lik me as much as Mr U dos. Mr U is trying to help me rite and spell bettr to. He helpd me find tings to do to. Iv helpd a lot of peeple now, and they all gav me munny and new armer. I also lerned how to fly! Mr U and Mr D are jellis, becuz I can turn into a burd and they cant. They cant fly unless they hav wind riders. Now that I can fly, Im a big drewd. I was going to com see you and ask if I can help you, but Mr U and Mr D told me that when they talk to you, they get hit and dont get to say what they want to say. I was skerd youd hit me too. So I wrot a lettr insted. Can I help you? Im a big drewd now, and I want to do things like Mr U and Mr D get to.
The letter is signed with an inky pawprint and the name “Taktani” in multicolored inks.
Oh boy. Here we go again. Hang on a second while I fire up the TranslationMaster 2000 for this.
TranslationMaster 2000
© Fizzletrinket Technologies
Your free trial period has expired. Please register your paid copy and enter your registration code in the field below.
…The FUCK?! Spazzle set up a fucking paid registration system for this thing?! Since when has he been trying to milk money out of people with his little dorky side projects? Oh yeah, I forgot, he’s a GOBLIN, so I guess the answer to that would be since fucking EVER. I’ll have to remember to strangle a registration code out of him later.
Anyway, I think I can handle this one myself. I hope.
Okay, so apparently she’s hanging around with Dontrag and Utvoch, which, you know, better her than me.
I did meet Mr D to, but he dosnt lik me as much as Mr U dos.
Holy freaking hell, I hope this is just the dumbass illiterate way she spells “like.” Please, please, spirits help me, for the love of all that’s good and vengeful, tell me she means “like” here, because if it’s option B, I seriously don’t know if I’ll be able to live.
Mr U is trying to help me rite and spell bettr to.
Riddle me this, Rexxar: which is more horrifying, the idea of Utvoch TEACHING someone writing skills, or the fact that the student in question could probably legitimately use his help?
I’m pretty sure language itself just threw up in its mouth a little.
I also lerned how to fly! Mr U and Mr D are jellis, becuz I can turn into a burd and they cant. They cant fly unless they hav wind riders.
Hey now, go ahead and enjoy your damn druid flight form, but you watch what you say about windriders, little Miss Veal Chop on Wings. We’ve already covered the wyvern pride in this mailbag.
I was going to com see you and ask if I can help you, but Mr U and Mr D told me that when they talk to you, they get hit and dont get to say what they want to say. I was skerd youd hit me too. So I wrot a lettr insted.
D&U have sadly misinformed you if they’ve led you to believe that continuing to send me these letters would DECREASE the chance of your getting smacked around. I swear, between D&U’s talking and this chick’s writing, it’s like they’re coordinating to make sure they’ve got mental anguish for Garrosh covered across every medium.
Anyway, though…since it seems like you really do want to help, and you’ve cleared out all the busywork in Kalimdor… Why don’t you drop by the Dark Portal and see if they can use any help in Outland. I bet they’ll have lots of stuff for you to do. Hell, I hear your Cenarion druid hippie buddies even have a whole thing going on out there. That should keep you occupied for a while. (And seriously, I’m kind of disappointed in myself for not thinking of this until now – why did it not occur to me that I could frigging send Dontrag and Utvoch TO ANOTHER PLANET?)
I have made a grave mistake. I am a Pandaren from the Wandering Island and decided to take up traveling after meeting some strangers from the Alliance and Horde. I was told I would have to pick which faction I wished to join. I decided on joining the Alliance because Aysa Cloudsinger was a cousin of mine. It was a big mistake. Varian Wyrnn is a complete pushover. I was able to easily knock him down when he asked for a sparring session. I need a leader that instill fear into his enemies and Varian is clearly not the one to do that. I humbly ask if you would allow me to join the Horde so that I may hold my head high when I am fighting.
Eagerly awaiting your answer,
–Windblossom, Stormwind
You know, when the Huojin Pandaren showed up in Orgrimmar, I gave them all this big speech about how any of their panda friends who chose to side with the Alliance were dead to them now. And I’d already decided that I was going to stick to a “You made your bed, now lie in it” policy for any pandas who had gone to the other side.
But you know…
Heh.
In this case, I’ve gotta say…
Hehe. Heh heh. Hehehe heh.
Hehe.
Hehe heh HAH hahahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA THAT’S just FUCKING AWESOME.
<looks at picture again>
BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAAAAAA!!!!
<chucklecrying>
Welcome to the Horde, Windblossom. F.Y.V.!
That’s it for this week, kids. I need to go find a tissue. Holy shit, my sides hurt.
HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH HEE HEEEE HAAA!
Fuck I love my readers.
<snort>
The Wizard of Zhan, Act 3
The curtain rises on the exterior of Karazhan. Garrosh et al approach the front gate.
GARROSH: Okay, so this is the place…
FARANELL: Weren’t we just here not too long ago?
Garrosh knocks on the door. A window on the door slides open, and Berhold the doorman sticks his head out.
BERTHOLD: Who goes there? What business do you have at the master’s Dark Tower?
GARROSH: We’ve come to see the Wizard.
DONTRAG: The guardian Wizard of Zhan!
UTVOCH: We hear he’s sage—
Garrosh smacks Utvoch.
GARROSH: Now don’t you get started with that shit again!
BERTHOLD: The Wizard? You can’t see the Wizard! No one sees the Wizard!
GARONA: Here’s where I grease the wheels… You remember me, don’t you, Berthold?
BERTHOLD: <leans out a bit more, squinting> Hmm, well…oh…oh goodness…lady Garona? Is it really you?
GARONA: It’s good to see you again, Berthold. Could you please go in and tell the Wizard it’s me?
BERTHOLD: Well, um, of course, m’lady. I’ll just be a moment.
Berthold disappears inside and the window closes.
GARONA: <grinning smugly> See? Now we just wait a minute or two, and then they’ll roll out the welcome mat.
GARROSH: How do you know this guy, anyway?
GARONA: I guess you could say we had sort of a thing back in the day.
GARROSH: Suddenly this Wizard’s judgment is seeming a little suspect.
GARONA: What’s that supposed to mean?
Just in front of the door, a heavy portcullis suddenly comes crashing down.
FARANELL: Um, unless welcome mats have been radically redesigned lately…
GARONA: Hang on.
Garona raps on the door angrily. The window opens and Berthold looks out again.
BERTHOLD: Yes?
GARONA: Didn’t you tell him it was me?
BERTHOLD: Yes!
Berthold slams the window shut.
GARONA: Well I…I…
GARROSH: Okay, so I stand corrected on this Wizard guy.
MOKVAR: Well now we have a minor problem about getting in to see him.
GARROSH: Anyone else have any bright ideas?
FARANELL: Garrosh, let me see that Focusing Iris?
GARROSH: You’re not going to try to blow up the gate and get us all killed or something, are you?
FARANELL: Not all of us.
MOKVAR: Reassuring.
FARANELL: But really, let me see it. I think I know how to appeal to him.
GARROSH: <handing the Focusing Iris to Faranell> You think you can get us in, run with it, man.
Faranell knocks on the door; the window opens, and Berthold looks out.
BERTHOLD: Are you all still here?
FARANELL: Yeah, so listen—
BERTHOLD: Good heavens, what happened to you? You look like death warmed over!
FARANELL: Yeah, yeah, I’m undead. So anyway—
BERTHOLD: Undead? That must be a horrible fate.
FARANELL: Yeah, well, take a good long look at the future, smart guy. Are you done interrupting me now? Yeah? Good. So, check this out. I know your boss isn’t in much of a hurry to be reunited with little miss sunshine over here, but I think he’d be very interested in getting a peek at this.
Faranell holds up the Focusing Iris.
You go on back inside and tell him that the bearer of the Focusing Iris is here, and might be persuaded to let him check out the number one item on every magic user’s Winter’s Veil list, okay?
BERTHOLD: Huh…if you say so, sir…
Berthold disappears inside.
MOKVAR: You think he’s going to go for it?
FARANELL: Trust me, I know how to appeal to another mage.
GARROSH: Let’s hope.
Accompanied by the sound of rattling chains, the portcullis rises back up, and the door swings open.
FARANELL: And there we go.
GARROSH: Nice job, Doc. Now we’re in business. Let’s go finish this…
The group walks through the gate.
Blackout. Garrosh and the others enter a large chamber filled with relics, vials, and other magic paraphernalia. Tapestries and ornate curtains decorate those portions of the walls not covered with tall bookshelves.
GARROSH: Huh… Well this looks like the kind of place a wizard would hang out, but where is he?
A booming voice echoes through the room.
VOICE: You have come to seek an audience with the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan?
GARONA: Oh boy, here he goes.
GARROSH: <looking around> Uh, yeah, we do, if he can bother dragging his butt out here so we can actually see him.
VOICE: You dare presume to speak to the great Wizard with such familiarity, mortal? You shall count yourself fortunate that the Wizard does not smite you where you stand!
UTVOCH: Wait, he’s a priest? I thought he was a mage.
MOKVAR: Is he always like this?
GARONA: Oh you have no idea. All the time with the talking about himself in the third person.
In the middle of the room, a towering, semi-transparent avatar of Medivh appears.
MEDIVH: The Wizard of Zhan has been informed that one among you carries the storied Focusing Iris! It is for this reason alone that you have been permitted into this sanctified chamber!
GARONA: Oh, and there he is, finally. And thank you, dear, for that very warm welcome.
MEDIVH: <looks at Garona> Oh. Delightful.
GARONA: Oh, really? You want to know what else is delightful? Being a single mom trying to give her son a good life when the kid’s high-and-mighty richer-than-Aman’thul dad for some reason can’t be bothered to mail off a child support payment!
MEDIVH: The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan does not have time to trifle with these petty—
GARONA: Oh, sure, when it’s something I want to talk about…
GARROSH: So listen, Your Wizardry, we have the Focusing Iris—
MEDIVH: Indeed, hence you are here in my chamber, and not cast out to the ogres! I will be most interested to examine the relic, and—
GARROSH: Yeah, well, here’s the thing, chief – before we let you go poking around with the shiny, we have a few things of our own that we could use a hand with.
MEDIVH: You dare dictate terms to the great and mighty Wizard!
GARONA: Oh man, he’s really in form today…
FARANELL: If you’d rather not be bothered we can just be along our way.
MEDIVH: <chuckles> You mortals have daring, I’ll grant you that much.
Medivh looks around the group, eyeing them carefully.
I will hear your requests.
GARONA: Hold the presses, he just called himself “I.”
MEDIVH: And you would do well to still her tongue.
GARROSH: Been working on that for months, chief. No luck so far.
MEDIVH: At any rate – present your entreaties, but remember the Wizard makes no promises.
GARROSH: We each have something we’re after, Wiz. In my case, I’m trying to find a way to summon Prince Malchezaar down from the Netherspace, so I can put him in the ground before the Burning Legion can pull him out of mothballs to stir up trouble for my people.
MEDIVH: Ah, yes, the irksome demon who’s tucked himself away in the upper levels. You intrigue me, mortal; I must say it would be no small pleasure to have that particular infestation removed from this place…
GARROSH: Okay, so far so good. Meanwhile…well…the rest of the requests are a little more personalized.
DONTRAG: Shall we present our case to the great and metallurgical Wizard, sir, and—
GARROSH: <smacking Dontrag> For spirits’ sake, no.
MOKVAR: Dontrag and Utvoch here would like some brains.
UTVOCH: Indeed, sir!
DONTRAG: <rubbing his head> So as not to have our current ones beaten out quite so often, sir.
GARROSH: And for real, anything you could do on that count, I mean, I can’t possibly overstate how much of a quality of life improvement that could be for everyone involved.
MOKVAR: As for the rest of us… A heart for me.
GARROSH: Because apparently he’s still moping over his ex-wife or something.
GARONA: Could you be any more insensitive?
FARANELL: And some guts for me.
UTVOCH: I still don’t really think you need—
MEDIVH: Enough of your insipid prattling, insects!
GARROSH: Yelling doesn’t do much good with this crowd, Wiz. Don’t think I haven’t tried.
MEDIVH: The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan has heard your requests, and in light of the possibility of studying the Focusing Iris, has deemed them acceptable.
GARROSH: Awesome, Wiz.
FARANELL: See, I told you the Iris was our ticket in.
MOKVAR: So is there a spell or an incantation you have to do on us, or…?
MEDIVH: Silence, mortals! I have not yet finished! I will grant your requests, but first I require you to perform a task on my behalf!
MOKVAR: Uh oh.
DONTRAG: I knew there was going to be a catch…
MOKVAR: We’re going to have to kill something, aren’t we?
GARROSH: So hang on, when you say we have to do a task for you, is this a for real task, or one of those busywork kind of tasks, because you’re talking to an old pro at doling out those…
FARANELL: Personally I think the whole getting-to-work-on-the-Iris thing should be enough of a trade-off on our part, but…
MEDIVH: Bleat at me no longer, fools!
MOKVAR: …Ouch.
FARANELL: That was kind of a good one, actually.
MEDIVH: Before the mighty and magnanimous Wizard grants your request, he demands that you return to him another magic relic of great power: you are to slay the Wicked Witch of the West, and recover from her the Doomstone.
GARROSH: Hang on, the Wicked Witch of the West? That’s Magatha, isn’t it?
GARONA: Yeah.
GARROSH: So we get what we came for, AND I get to kill Magatha?
FARANELL: Didn’t you already kill her in the other timeline?
GARROSH: Trust me, dude, it never gets old.
MEDIVH: You shall venture to the odious lair of the Wicked Witch, where you shall slay her and return with the powerful Doomstone. You must not shy away from this task, for if you fail to carry out this duty—
GARROSH: Dude, it’s cool, done and done.
MEDIVH: Excellent! Be warned, however, the lair of the Wicked Witch of the West shall not be breached easily. It lies in the Mountains of Twilight, in the dread Bastion of the Dying Day. The journey shall be long and arduous, and you will find many trials between here and—
FARANELL: <holding up the Focusing Iris and channeling a spell> Yeah, stoke that noise. Portal to BoT coming up!
Faranell completes the spell and teleports the group away, other than Garona.
MEDIVH: <sighs> Mortals.
Blackout. In an inner chamber of the Bastion of Twilight, Magatha peers into an Eye of Twilight. Beside her hunches Zhi-Zhi, dressed in armor and sporting bat-like wings on his back; around the room similar winged monkey creatures scurry.
MAGATHA: The visions have grown cloudy…they may have reached Karazhan, but no matter – soon enough we’ll find them, and the Focusing Iris will be—
In a flash of light, Garrosh et all appear in the middle of the room. The group appears briefly disoriented as they look around.
FARANELL: Okay, here we are!
MOKVAR: <looking around> Are…are those flying monkeys?
MAGATHA: Well then! All the better! No need to go out hunting for them – the fools have delivered themselves right into my very lair!
ZHI-ZHI: Now! Now we get them, your Witchy-wooken-ness ma’am! Hozen do good and get the dookin’—
MAGATHA: <smacking Zhi-Zhi> Shut up, you insipid preliterate orang utan! Get them!
ZHI-ZHI: Ahhh! Stop hitting Zhi-Zhi!
DONTRAG: I know the feeling, ape guy…
ZHI-ZHI: Get them! Get them!
More monkeys swarm into the room and start running to surround Garrosh’s group, which backs up toward stage right. Magatha runs back and forth in the background, overlooking the scene. Arikara flies in and swoops back and forth above them.
GARROSH: That’s…a whole lot of monkeys.
FARANELL: Plus that wind serpent…
Mortimer leaps into the air and barrels into Arikara with a snarl, knocking them both offstage to the left.
GARROSH: Yeah, I’m not so worried about the wind serpent.
The monkeys descend in bunches, attacking the group.
The chimp brigade, on the other hand…
The Horde group starts to fight off the monkeys; they cut the monkeys down easily enough, but by sheer force of numbers, Magatha’s attackers push Garrosh et al further back.
Magatha descends and begins shooting chain lightning.
MAGATHA: Hahaha! You fools made my work that much easier! Now the Focusing Iris will be mine, and—
Faranell runs up to Magatha and splashes her from a bucket.
AAAHH!! I’m melting! I’m melting! AAAAHHH!!!
Screaming all the way, Magatha melts into a sizzling brown puddle on the floor.
GARROSH: Um, hang on a second. She melted? Fucking WATER killed her?
FARANELL: No. That wasn’t water.
MOKVAR: What was it, then?
FARANELL: Acidic plague.
GARROSH: You walk around with a bucket of acidic plague?
FARANELL: Do you not know what I do for a living?
ZHI-ZHI: The Wicked Witch – she’s dead! You killed her!
MOKVAR: Uh oh. Bracing for pissed-off monkeys.
ZHI-ZHI: She’s dead! She’s dead! Hozen are free! Free of the Witch!
Zhi-Zhi starts jumping up and down jubilantly, with the other monkeys following his lead in short order. Mortimer wanders in and sits, munching on a wind serpent wing.
DONTRAG: I guess this is good?
MOKVAR: As long as they don’t start fliging poop around, I think we’re okay.
ZHI-ZHI: No more beatings from Wicked Witch! We friends now! Friends of the hozen!
Faranell prods Magatha’s remains, rummaging through the remains of her cloak.
MOKVAR: Be careful there, Edwin – are you sure you should be poking around in that stuff?
FARANELL: <continues rummaging> Oh, yes, you’re right, I’d better be careful not to touch any of the plague, or else my flesh might decompose and I might die and OH WAIT.
Faranell pulls a polished gray stone from Magatha’s cloak and tosses it to Garrosh.
Here we go. Mission accomplished.
ZHI-ZHI: Yes! You take Doomstone – reward for killing Wicked Witch! And hozen will follow you now!
GARROSH: Don’t I know you from somewhere?
ZHI-ZHI: <scratching his head> Ever been to Tian Monastery?
GARROSH: Never heard of it.
MOKVAR: Well, other than that one time.
ZHI-ZHI: <still scratching his head> Dunno then…
GARROSH: <shrugs> Whatever.
FARANELL: Portal back to the Wizard?
GARROSH: Yeah, let’s get a move on.
ZHI-ZHI: Hozen come too! Follow new leader! Leader who free hozen!
GARROSH: Uh, yeah, dude, listen, I’ve already got my quota filled on preliterate knuckle-dragging lackeys, okay?
DONTRAG: Sorry, sir.
FARANELL: Okay, gentlemen, here we go…
Faranell casts a portal spell and teleports the group away. Zhi-Zhi remains with the other winged monkeys; he looks around dejectedly, then sneers at the spot where Garrosh had been standing.
ZHI-ZHI: Still not the one!
Blackout. In the Wizard of Zhan’s chamber, Garrosh et al port in, joining Medivh, Garona, and Liadrin.
MEDIVH: Ah, you’ve returned! The mighty but restless Wizard of Zhan is both pleased and not inconsiderably relieved at your timely return!
MOKVAR: You were worried about us?
MEDIVH: Not especially. But since your departure, your…colleague has scarcely shut up.
GARONA: Well sue me for thinking you might want to catch up a little. It’s not like we have a kid together or anything.
GARROSH: <looking to Liadrin> And hang on, what are YOU doing here?
LIADRIN: You think I would miss this floor show?
GARROSH: Well you know, if you were going to come here anyway, you could have maybe stayed with us and used some of your magic to help move things along.
LIADRIN: And then what would you have learned?
GARROSH: I didn’t learn a damn thing as it is, other than “Watch where you step around monkeys” and “Don’t get too close if you see a walking corpse with a bucket”!
FARANELL: You know I’m standing right here.
LIADRIN: Two valuable life lessons.
GARROSH: …I seriously need some new friends.
MEDIVH: At any rate.
GARROSH: Yeah, PLEASE get us back to business.
MEDIVH: You have brought the Doomstone, as I instructed?
GARROSH: <holds up the Doomstone> Got it right here.
MEDIVH: Excellent. Now you shall hand over the relic, and—
GARROSH: Not so fast, translucent boy. First you give us what we came here for, THEN we’ll give you the doohicky.
MEDIVH: You dare try to dictate terms to the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan, mortal? I should liquidate you for your presumption alone!
Mortimer, who has been sniffing around the various tapestries that cover parts of the walls, tugs back one curtain to reveal a control panel covered with elaborate levers, buttons, and monitors, manned by a Forsaken male dressed in warrior’s plate.
GARROSH: Uh, who’s that?
The Forsaken man speaks into a microphone on the control panel, and his words are echoed by Medivh.
AVERRY and MEDIVH: Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!
FARANELL: Well that’s…odd.
GARROSH: The hell?
GARONA: I don’t even want to think about the implications of this for me.
AVERRY and MEDIVH: Silence, you foolish mortals! Pay him no mind!
GARROSH: Dude, we can see you’re the one doing the talking.
UTVOCH: I’m confused.
FARANELL: Imagine our astonishment.
Averry looks back at the others and hurriedly pulls the curtain closed again.
GARROSH: Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the— Oh. Oops. Wrong button.
MEDIVH: That’s better. Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the curtain, and put him out of mind!
ALL: What man behind the curtain whom we certainly don’t remember seeing?
MEDIVH: Much better.
GARROSH: Look, can we just get what we came here for so we can get this whole freak show over with?
LIADRIN: It probably would be just as easy to do it this way, Guardian.
MEDIVH: <sighs> Very well. Have your companions step forward…
Mokvar, Faranell, Dontrag, and Utvoch step closer to Medivh. Medivh looks to Faranell.
First you, my fellow – albeit preposterously less mighty – mage.
FARANELL: Can’t anyone be one of the best at their class without being an elitist jerk about it?
MEDIVH: You came, as I recall, seeking guts – and yet I daresay you suffer from disorganized thinking. To flee from danger is, in many cases, not cowardice, but wisdom. Indeed, in my day I have known many a soul called a hero, who carried out great deeds of valiance, and they had no more courage than—
FARANELL: No, no, you’re taking this too metaphorically.
MEDIVH: Pardon?
FARANELL: I don’t need guts because I think I’m a coward. Look at me. Half my internal organs are missing. I have no guts, literally.
MEDIVH: Huh. You know, you’re shedding new light on some complaints I’ve been getting from Moroes…
FARANELL: How about I put you down for an “I’ll get back to you” and keep the line moving.
Medivh shrugs and turns to Mokvar.
MEDIVH: As for you, my good orc… Your trouble is another misperception of your situation – not the lack of heart, but a damaged one. To that end, I give you this remedy, for your ears and your ears alone:
Medivh leans closer to Mokvar.
<aside> She is still out there, alive, and she is looking for you.
Mokvar makes a surprised expression, then nods and steps away. Medivh turns to Dontrag and Utvoch.
Now then…you two.
DONTRAG: Yes, sir, your high and mighty Wizardariousness, sir.
UTVOCH: Very much honored to bask in your presence and await your magnaminious blessings, sir.
MEDIVH: Hmm… Yeah. Right. Sorry. You can’t fix stupid.
DONTRAG: Oh.
UTVOCH: Um…okay…
GARROSH: <sighs> Gotta say, we’re not getting a whole lot of return on our investment so far.
MEDIVH: Now for your request, other-orc. You say you seek the demon Malchezaar, and the means to draw him out of his hiding place…
GARROSH: Right. Please don’t tell me this is another one of those “Oops, I can’t really do that one” things for you.
MEDIVH: The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan can do anything, mortal!
FARANELL: Other than listen to himself for like the last three minutes.
MEDIVH: But, as it happens, in this case the Wizard does not need to!
GARROSH: <sighs> Don’t tell me you’re going to get all cryptic on me now.
LIADRIN: What I think the Wizard means, Garrosh, is that you have the means now to do it yourself.
GARROSH: The what now?
Liadrin points to the Doomstone in Garrosh’s hands.
Huh… This thing can do it? How?
LIADRIN: You need only charge it with the Focusing Iris, and you’ll see.
GARROSH: Huh. Well, you heard her, Edwin. Let’s see what this thing does.
Faranell takes out the Focusing Iris and starts to channel arcane power through it and into the Doomstone. The Doomstone starts to glow, then expand, growing into a heavy gray slab of rock with a single runic symbol etched into it.
LIADRIN: Now all you need to is touch your hand to it and say “Come click on the stone.”
Garrosh gives a quizzical look, then shrugs and puts his hand on the stone.
GARROSH: Come click on the stone.
LIADRIN: That’s it…go on…
GARROSH: Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone…
As he repeats the phrase, Faranall and Mokvar approach and touch the stone as well. The stage lights dim as Medivh’s chamber fades away, and the only things left visible are Garrosh and the stone. A bright light flashes around the stone, and Prince Malchezaar appears.
MALCHEZAAR: <looks around bewildered> What? How—?
GARROSH: Well hey, now we’re in business.
MALCHEZAAR: You! You dare?
GARROSH: Yeah, so, we haven’t really properly met or anything, princy, so let me fill you in – I dare. Like, professionally.
MALCHEZAAR: Madness has brought you here, orc! Now I shall be your undoing!
GARROSH: Seriously, do you bad guys all take a class on these stock threats? Because—
Garrosh reaches to his back to draw Gorehowl, only to find it’s disappeared from its usual place.
Wha— Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously? Again, now?
Laughing menacingly, Malchezaar draws Gorehowl and brandishes it.
MALCHEZAAR: Ha! Have you misplaced this, fool? I remember fondly the day I recovered it from Demon’s Fall!
GARROSH: Ugh, fine, we’ll do this the street-brawl way…
Garrosh rushes at Malchezaar and grapples with him, gripping Gorehowl by its haft when Malchezaar tries to swing it at him.
MALCHEZAAR: Flee now while you can, orc! You do not face Malchezaar alone—
GARROSH: Yeah, yeah, we all know the spiel, squid-face – but you know something? You’re right. I DON’T face Malchezaar alone…
The stage lights come back on, illuminating the normal, minimally dressed stage of the Opera House – with Faranell, Liadrin, Mokvar, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch in a semicircle behind Garrosh and Malchezaar.
Say hello to the legion at my command! SHOW TIME FOR REAL, kids!
MOKVAR: Liking our odds a lot better this time…
While Faranell and Mokvar stand back, casting fireballs and lightning bursts respectively, Liadrin, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch run in to engage Malchezaar at melee range. Malchezaar staggers back and forth under the onslaught of the group, still grappling with Garrosh over their hold on Gorehowl, until Garrosh twists it out of Malchezaar’s grip, leaps up, and cleaves through the demon’s neck, severing his head. Malchezaar’s body slumps to the floor, and the spectral audience bursts into applause.
GARROSH: Wham, bam, the bitch is dead. Bitch.
As the audience continues their applause, Barnes walks to center stage.
BARNES: A splendid finale for a most varied and entertaining evening of theater! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you tonight’s troupe of performers, here for the first and only time for your enjoyment!
The applause rises; Barnes walks back offstage.
MOKVAR: Well that takes care of that.
DONTRAG: We’re done here now, right?
LIADRIN: That should do it, yes…
FARANELL: <standing over Malchezaar’s body somberly> At least now he can stop coming back to die over and over…
MOKVAR: Oh, yeah…I guess you were in your own kind of time loop, weren’t you, Edwin…
LIADRIN: But…Edwin, it would have been a stable loop with you, wouldn’t it? Just one set of events repeating infinitely?
FARANELL: That’s what I’d figured it was going to be…
GARROSH: Wait, what? What do you mean, a stable loop?
FARANELL: When I stayed in old Southshore, and replaced myself. I’d figured I would live through my life like I remembered it, then get to the point where we traveled to the past, and go back with you again, then the events would be complete. And then it would be done, and the cycle would just keep spinning itself.
LIADRIN: That isn’t what happened for you?
FARANELL: <shaking head slowly> It didn’t just repeat. I would live through to our mission to the past, and replace myself again, and pick up my life in the past…and yeah, the loop would keep repeating, but every cycle through, I had to live it through again, and repeat my part of it again, and…
GARROSH: And…?
LIADRIN: Oh…oh no…
FARANELL: …and die again. And be raised again.
MOKVAR: Holy crap…
UTVOCH: Wait, I’m confused, what’s he—
GARROSH: Just this once, will you please SHUT THE FUCK UP?
FARANELL: And so yeah, every time around, I had to live out that repetition fresh. I can still remember every loop, individually…
LIADRIN: Edwin… I’m not sure if I even really want to know, but…how many times did you…go around?
FARANELL: By the time you…I…reset the timelines and broke me out…? 2,734.
LIADRIN: By the Light… You…relived your own death…?
Faranell nods, still staring at Malchezaar.
MOKVAR: Edwin, listen—
FARANELL: Doesn’t really matter at this point. <turns back to the others> Come on. We’re done here. Portal to Orgrimmar coming up.
Faranell summons a portal, and one by one the rest of the group disappears through it.
There’s no place like home…
Faranell ports out. The curtain closes.
The Wizard of Zhan, Act 2
The curtain rises, revealing the Gold Road coming to a fork in the marsh at a small guard tower. Garrosh, Garona, and Mortimer enter. Seated next to the tower entrance, two guards – Dontrag and Utvoch – entertain themselves tossing coins.
GARROSH: Huh. Do you know which way we’re supposed to go?
GARONA: I’m not sure. It’s been a while.
GARROSH: How do you know this wizard again?
GARONA: Long story. <looks around> I suppose we could ask the guards.
GARROSH: <squints, looking at them> For some reason, I don’t have a great feeling about that. But whatever. HEY, you two!
Dontrag and Utvoch scramble to their feet and grab their axes.
DONTRAG: Halt!
UTVOCH: Who goes there?
GARROSH: Uh, you can stop trying to act like you were actually paying attention to what was going on.
DONTRAG: Begging your pardon, sir, but rested assurances we are in full commanding commandeered command of the situation. At hand, sir.
UTVOCH: What may have appeared to the untrained eye, sir—
DONTRAG: The uninitialized!
UTVOCH: Uninitialized?
DONTRAG: Isn’t that what you meant?
UTVOCH: The uninitialized eye?
DONTRAG: Well maybe you could take out the “eye” part?
GARONA: Were you thinking of maybe “uninitiated”?
UTVOCH: What’s wrong with just “the untrained eye”?
DONTRAG: Fine, say it your way.
GARROSH: I think I’m starting to get a regrettably familiar headache…
UTVOCH: As I was meaning to say, sir…
GARROSH: Oh good. Here we go.
UTVOCH: To the untrained eye, it may have appeared and belied that my comrade Dontrag and I were diverted and distracted, but you see, sir, that’s all just part of our clever ruse.
GARROSH: A ruse?
UTVOCH: Yes sir. Our cunning plan!
GARROSH: You have a ruse?
UTVOCH: We do, sir – a great clever devious one, sure to outwit and unfox even the most surreptitious and scheming of foes! A great airtight inconceivable ploy, ma’am!
GARROSH: I don’t think that word means what you think it means.
UTVOCH: Sir?
GARROSH: Just go on. Or don’t, actually.
UTVOCH: Just meaning to say, sir, my colleague and I might have looked to be distracted with our game, but if you take my meaning, sir, that’s just to lull any enemies into a false sense of security, sir.
DONTRAG: They see us busy at the tower and underestimate us!
GARROSH: I don’t know if anyone could underestimate you two.
UTVOCH: Thank you, sir!
DONTRAG: And they try to put one past us, and lo and behold!
UTVOCH: Ha! HA!
Garona, who had wandered off by this point, unstealths further up the road, on the far side of the guard tower, and waves.
DONTRAG: You’ve got to get up pretty early in the morning to put one past ol’ Dontrag and Utvoch, sir!
Garrosh points to Garona; Dontrag and Utvoch turn to look, then do double takes.
UTVOCH: Hey! You can’t be over there!
DONTRAG: No one passes this checkpoint without they’ve been approved and authorized and added to the official commendatory-ish list!
UTVOCH: No one else is to pass, ma’am!
DONTRAG: Those are our orders!
GARROSH: Your orders?
DONTRAG: Yes, sir!
GARROSH: Whose orders?
UTVOCH: The Warchief’s orders, sir!
Garrosh stares at them for a moment, then looks at Garona, then rubs his eyes.
GARROSH: I’M the Warchief, you pinheads.
Dontrag and Utvoch do another double take.
UTVOCH: I think we may need to add more detailed notes to the list.
GARROSH: I think you may need something other than cottage cheese between your ears.
DONTRAG: Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.
GARONA: You know, if they came along, maybe the Wizard could do something for them.
GARROSH: WHY would you even SUGGEST—
UTVOCH: Really? That would be most magnanimous of you, sir!
DONTRAG: It would be an honor to join you on your quest, sir!
UTVOCH: A group quest, as it were!
DONTRAG: With a tremendous quest reward for Utvoch and I, sir – and most beneficiallacious to everyone!
{IF WE ONLY HAD A BRAIN}
DONTRAG:
We would cause much less frustration,
And need less explanation
To make the meaning plain.
Write your order down and send it;
We would truly comprehend it
If we only had a brain.UTVOCH:
We would free our conversation
From overcompensation:
The knowledge that we feign.
You might think of us as nerdy,
And we wouldn’t be so wordy
If we only had a brain.DONTRAG and UTVOCH:
Oh, we would finally know,
Our heads not filled with wool.DONTRAG:
Instead our heads with knowledge would be full.
UTVOCH:
It would be inconceivable!
DONTRAG:
Life would be such a joy hence,
To not be an annoyance,
And not be thought a pain.
You would not be near as wary
Of our weak vocabulary
If we only had a brain.UTVOCH:
We’d listen while you’re talkin’,
And not feel like we’re walkin’
Two steps behind again.
You’re be happy when you meet us
(Or at least you wouldn’t beat us)
If we only had a brain.
GARONA: See? They mean well.
GARROSH: Yeah, yeah, fine. They can come along. Only question is, which way? We still never settled that.
DONTRAG: We’re on it, sir!
GARONA: See, I told you.
DONTRAG: You call it, Ut.
GARROSH: Wait, call it?
UTVOCH: Heads, north!
DONTRAG: Tossing!
Dontrag tosses a coin.
GARROSH: Seriously?
DONTRAG: Tails!
UTVOCH: South it is.
GARROSH: You know what? Fine. Whatever.
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE)}
ALL:
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!Blackout. The Gold Road winds past Blackrock Mountain through a fiery landscape. Garrosh, Garona, Dontrag, Utvoch, and Mortimer enter and make their way cautiously along the road.
DONTRAG: I don’t really like the looks of things here, sir.
GARONA: This is a dangerous region. Rumor has it that a few last lingering members of the black dragonflight lurk around here.
UTVOCH: Dragons? Really?
DONTRAG: Don’t forget the ogres. Aren’t they supposed to be especially hostile in these mountains?
GARONA: Not to mention the orcs.
GARROSH: Um, you mean like every single one of us here?
GARONA: Hey, I’m half draenei.
GARROSH: Yeah, but you’re passing.
GARONA: Well still, I’m talking about Blackrock orcs. They’re nothing but trouble in this region.
DONTRAG: Ugh. Dragons and ogres and orcs.
UTVOCH: Oh my.
GARONA: Dragons and ogres and orcs.
UTVOCH: Oh my.
The group begins to march along the road faster, in rhythm with their words.
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
ALL: Dragons and ogres and orcs!
UTVOCH: Oh my!
As the group passes an outcropping of rock, Mokvar – wearing clattering plate armor – jumps out and attacks them, beginning with a chain lightning that knocks Garrosh, Garona, and Utvoch back. Mokvar knocks down Dontrag and stands over him, rearing back to swing his mace. Garrosh charges back in and knocks Mokvar away.
DONTRAG: Wow, you weren’t kidding about the Blakrock orcs being bad news around here.
MOKVAR: I’m not a Blackrock orc! You’re the Blackrock orcs!
GARROSH: Dude, what is this, a schoolyard?
MOKVAR: You’re not Blackrock orcs?
GARROSH: Do I LOOK like a Blackrock orc? You seriously can’t tell Blackrock from Mag’har?
MOKVAR: <shrugs> Yeah, fine. In that case, you all be on your way and I’ll get back to my business.
GARROSH: What this yen you’ve got against the Blackrocks, anyway?
MOKVAR: That’s between them and me.
GARONA: And anyone else who happens to come walking down this road.
GARROSH: I don’t know what your problem is with them, dude, but you might want to let it go before somebody ends up getting hurt. Like mainly you.
MOKVAR: Would if I could.
GARONA: Why can’t you?
MOKVAR: The Blackrock clan…well, one of them…took something from me that… Look, if I could put it past me and forget about it, I would. It would make life a whole lot easier…
{IF I ONLY HAD A HEART}
MOKVAR:
It’s true, I’m kind of bitter;
My mercy’s in the shitter,
My anger off the chart.
Maybe wrongs could be forgiven
And I just could go on livin’
If I only had a heart.An orc that I won’t mention,
Reviled past comprehension,
That’s where it found its start.
But my smiles would be addictive
If I just weren’t so vindictive,
If I only had a heart.Picture me a balcony,
Above a voice speaks low,
Illuminated by the fires below.
I hear a blast…aghast.Now I wish I could forget it,
Those moments I regretted
That tear me all apart.
I could end all my fighting
And I’d get back to my writing
If I only had a heart.DONTRAG: You know, maybe the Wizard could do something to help him, too.
GARONA: I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.
GARROSH: I guess. Maybe he’ll give me someone to have some actual decent conversation with on this trip.
GARONA: I’ve been trying to talk to you this whole time!
GARROSH: As I was saying.
MOKVAR: You people are funny. You should write some of this down.
GARROSH: Funny you should mention. I want to discuss that with you during the trip…
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE)}
ALL:
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!Blackout. The group follows the Gold Road through Duskwood, where it passes an alchemy station manned by Faranell.
FARNELL: Hey. I’m Edwin, I could go for a trip to the Dark Tower too, everybody cool with that? Yeah? Good. Let’s get going then.
GARROSH: I— wait, what? You just want to…
FARANELL: Yeah, look, I’ve been watching this from backstage, and rather than doing some little vignette about me joining the group, I figured we could just save time and move things along.
GARROSH: <clapping Faranell on the back> Good man.
FARANELL: Okay, so, cue the exit song.
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE)}
ALL:
Weeeeeeeeee’re off to—
GARONA: Wait, wait, hold on.
GARROSH: What’s the matter?
GARONA: What do you want to see the Wizard for?
FARANELL: …I want his autograph?
GARROSH: Does it really matter?
GARONA: Hey, somebody has to keep the plot on track with some kind of integrity.
MOKVAR: Personally I think that train left the station somewhere around the “Time Warp” ripoff.
FARANELL: Well, what have you got so far?
GARONA: Dontrag and Utvoch want a brain.
FARANELL: Shouldn’t they specify two?
GARONA: Isn’t that splitting hairs, really?
FARANELL: Listen, I’m a mage. I know all about ironic technicalities when people phrase their magic requests vaguely.
GARROSH: Whatever. Honestly even one brain between them would be an improvement.
GARONA: And then Mokvar wants a heart.
FARANELL: mm. Okay, well, keeping with the whole anatomical theme, I guess I could ask him for some guts.
GARROSH: Really? You don’t seem so cowardly.
UTVOCH: Actually I thought you were kind of badass back in that cellar.
FARANELL: No, no, I’m not talking about courage. I mean literally, guts. Look at me. I’m undead. I’m missing half my internal organs.
{IF I ONLY HAD SOME GUTS}
FARANELL:
The bile I feel is sadder,
’Cause I’ve got no gallbladder,
No ifs, no ands, no buts.
Now I’d finally have uses
For these jarred digestive juices
If I only had some guts.No liver, so I’m thinkin’
I’d better not be drinkin’.
I really don’t see what’s
The point of an appendix,
But I would give mine a mend fix
If I only had some guts.Once I had them back,
It would never discard.
I never should have once let down my guard
And signed that organ donor card.Those toxins, I would rid these
If I just had some kidneys.
Necrosis, it rebuts.
But my pain would heal faster,MOKVAR:
All this anger I would master,
DONTRAG and UTVOCH:
Our ideas won’t be disaster,
GARROSH:
And I’ll kill that demon bastard
If that caster is a caster, not a putz.DONTRAG and UTVOCH:
Then we’re sure to get a brain.
MOKVAR:
A heart.
GARROSH:
A…means to summon a demon prince and by the way I’m not even bothering to try to get this to fit the actual meter of the line here, so sue me.
FARANELL: <blinks>
Um, okay… Some guts.
GARROSH: Okay, that works. Moving on.
{OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD (REPRISE, FOR REAL THIS TIME)}
ALL:
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!The group marches down the road and offstage. The curtain closes.
{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 3…}
Magical mystery tour
Now that things have quieted down around here – granted, not quite as successfully as I might have liked – I’m finally getting around to a bit of business I’ve had in the back of my mind ever since that whole mess with the overlapping timelines. See, if you remember, one of the reasons the Burning Legion was able to take out Orgrimmar so easily was that they had Prince Malchezaar tucked away in Karazhan, in that time-loopy Netherspace, so they could crack him out whenever they needed him and have him use one of Medivh’s old spellbooks to port them right in on top of us. Which, if you remember, wasn’t exactly a fun time for the good guys.
Now granted, that timeline never happened for us now, but one thing that’s come out of it is that NOW, I know what Malchezaar is actually doing up there in Karazhan – basically sitting there in storage, on a permanent death-then-respawn loop, until the Legion turns up and needs him. Which, by the way, I’ve got to say, as much as I hate the demons, that’s a job that has to take some stones to sign up for. Assuming Malchezaar had any choice in the matter. But can you imagine that? Committing yourself to dying over and over, just to come back and die some more? Can you imagine how much someone would have to believe in the cause to go along with something like that, and stick to it even after X number of go-rounds?
Anyway, point is, now I know what Malchezaar is doing there, and just importantly, I’ve seen first-hand the threat he could pose to the Horde. So I think it’s high time we made it our business to neutralize that threat. The one trick, though, is that we can’t just go up to the Netherspace where Malchezaar is hiding and kill him there – then he would just pop back up again as soon as the time loop resets. Nothing accomplished there. So we’ve got to find a way to get him down from there first.
And before you go suggesting one of us should go up there, shoot him, then take off down the stairs so he’ll chase us till he’s out of the Netherspace…come on. Malchezaar’s a poncy fucker, sure, but he’s not a damn idiot. He knows that as long as he’s up there he’s safe, and as soon as he leaves he’s vulnerable. So I’ve got to figure he’d be smart enough to leash back to his home base as soon as he sees what we’re doing. So we’ll have to come up with another way to yank him down from there.
But, bottom line – we’re going to Karazhan.
Since part of the mission is going to be finding or improvising a way to get Malchezaar down from the Netherspace, and it’s hard to say just what we’ll be up against in the process, I’m bringing a decent team with me. And since the mission is largely based on what we learned in that other timeline, I’m first and foremost bringing the people who’ll remember that timeline with me: Mokvar, Liadrin, Faranell, and Utvoch.
Side note, speaking of which: I’ve talked to Mokvar and Liadrin since the whole time fiasco, and from what I gather, those of us who had gone on the original Southshore mission – the ones who were still aware of our original timeline when we started shifting into the other one – can still remember everything that happened with the two realities. Mokvar remembers shifting back and forth with me. Liadrin remembers becoming leader of the Argent Crusade and bearer of the Ashbringer. Etc., etc. Other than us, no one seems to remember anything strange happening – it’s as if the second timeline never existed for them. Which, in a way, it didn’t, now.
I’m not exactly sure what Edwin’s perception of everything would be at this point, what with him being in kind of a unique position. I’ll have to remember to ask him about that before we finish up with this.
Anyway, that’s the bulk of the group. Since Utvoch is coming, I’m also letting him bring Dontrag along, because (a) Dontrag whined enough about not getting to come along last time, (b) the two of them are hard enough to separate under the best of circumstances, and (c) bringing one of them but not the other would require someone to figure out which of them is which, and let’s face it, that’s a crap shoot most of the time any way you cut it.
I’m also having Garona come with us, since she spent a fair amount of time in Karazhan back in the day, not to mention she had kind of an in with Medivh. Or should I said, Medivh had…you know what? Never mind. She might read this, and I don’t need the headaches.
Meanwhile, while we’re off doing our thing in Karazhan, I’m leaving Malkorok to oversee the ongoing preparations for battle with the Alliance. That and pay a little visit to Neeru Fireblade in the Cleft of Shadow. Related loose ends.
So, I contacted everyone, and we all met up this morning in Stonard, then flew over to Karazhan. When we first arrived, we found a roost for gryphons outside the upper tower, and we were going to leave our mounts there until we realized, hey, there’s actually no way to get DOWN from there once the mounts are settled, and also, who the hell sets up of flight point like that, seriously?
FARANELL: Well, Medivh was probably thinking, if you can’t get down easily enough with Slow Fall, that’s your own fault for not having the good sense to be a mage.
Oh, shut up, Doc. Of course Mokvar never misses a word of the smartassing when it happens.
Anyway, Garona remembered that there were stables just inside the gate, so we brought our mounts in with us to stash there. While everyone was getting their wyverns and bats and (ugh) dragonhawks secured, Mortimer went sniffing around the stables – he doesn’t take too well to being strapped down anyplace, but he’s good enough about staying where he’s supposed to be that I usually let him wander. While he was poking around, he found this ghostly horse in the back area – all spooky-looking with glowing eyes and flaming hooves. The two of them took a couple minutes to check each other out, and then each of them seemed to decide that the other was okay. When I came around to check on them, the horse apparently took a liking to me and started following me around until we strapped it into one of the pens. So, yeah, another mount to add to the collection. Whoopee.
Once we were done in the stables, we came back out to the foyer, where we found Berthold, Medivh’s old doorman, standing by the main stairway. Or, well, the GHOST of Berthold. Man, I don’t know what kind of contract some of these servants had with Medivh, but it must have been a doozy – they don’t even get to check out when they fucking DIE. These people really should have joined a union or something.
Anyway, Berthold managed to get us going in a possible right direction…
BERTHOLD: Ah, excellent! Greetings, all! The master hasn’t had guests in so terribly long!
FARANELL: Do you think that maybe that could be because he’s dead?
GARROSH: Heh. You’ve got a point, Doc.
MOKVAR: To be fair, so is this guy.
BERTHOLD: Goodness…could it be…Garona?
GARONA: Hey, Berthold. Long time no see.
GARROSH: Oh, that’s right, you would have known this guy from way back when…
BERTHOLD: I remember your son coming here not so long ago, Garona… But surely, he couldn’t really be your son! You couldn’t be old enough to be the mother of a boy his age.
GARONA: I see you’re a flatterer as always, Berthold.
BERTHOLD: I only speak the truth, my lady. Time has stood still for you.
GARROSH: Seriously?
GARONA: What’s that supposed to mean?
GARROSH: Never mind. Forget it.
GARONA: Just because I have a grown son doesn’t mean I’m ancient, you know!
MOKVAR: Oh boy, here we go again.
GARONA: It’s always the same with you, isn’t it? If a woman isn’t jailbait…
GARROSH: Remind me again how old you were when you paired off with old graybeard Medivh?
GARONA: …What does that have to do with anything?
GARROSH: Well hey, if I’m going to take crap about liking ’em young, I’m just wondering how far into the shallow end of the pool Mr. Last Guardian was dipping.
GARONA: Fine – I happened to have a thing for older men at the time, okay? Are you happy now?
GARROSH: Uh huh. And how much older are we talking?
GARONA: I don’t see how that’s important!
GARROSH: Hey, doorman dude.
BERTHOLD: Yes sir?
GARROSH: How long HAS it been since you’ve seen little miss charm school here?
BERTHOLD: Well, sir…
GARONA: You don’t have to answer that, Berthold.
GARROSH: GO ON.
BERTHOLD: About…twenty-five years, sir? Give or take?
GARONA: <sigh>
GARROSH: Uh huh. And by your best count, how old was Medivh at the time?
BERTHOLD: About fifty, sir. As best as I can figure.
GARROSH: <smirking at Garona victoriously> Oh yeah. He loved you for your mind, I’m sure.
LIADRIN: Don’t listen to him, Garona. I think you look lovely.
GARONA: Oh you stay out of this, twiggy.
LIADRIN: I… <blinks> Okay, then…
FARANELL: That moment when you realize Garrosh may actually possess preternatural patience.
DONTRAG: Begging your pardon, Warchief?
FARANELL: Case in point.
GARROSH: Yes, Utvoch? I assume this is… <sighs> …important?
DONTRAG: Um, well, I’m actually Dontrag, sir.
UTVOCH: I’m Utv—
GARROSH: Both of you.
DONTRAG and UTVOCH: Yes sir?
GARROSH: How long have I known you?
MOKVAR: I’m assuming you want something more specific than “too long.”
DONTRAG: About a year now, sir?
GARROSH: And in the past year, can you tell me one thing I’ve done or said that suggested to you that I gave so much as half a shit which of you is which?
UTVOCH: No, sir.
DONTRAG: Not really, sir.
GARROSH: Okay then. So what were you going to ask, Utvoch?
DONTRAG: But I’m Dontr—OWW!!
GARROSH: Half a shit, not given. The question.
DONTRAG: <rubbing his head> Uh, well…it wasn’t anything important, sir.
GARROSH: Yeah, like I couldn’t have guessed that from the get-go. Moving on.
GARONA: You’re so mean sometimes.
GARROSH: You want to see mean, grandma?
GARONA: I don’t know why I keep trying to help—
LIADRIN: Not to interrupt…but might we try to focus on what we came here for?
GARROSH: Yeah, good point. So…
GARONA: Oh sure, listen to her.
GARROSH: MOVING ON.
FARANELL: I really should have brought popcorn.
GARROSH: Okay, so Berthold, you’ve been watching the door here for how long?
BERTHOLD: Oh goodness, sir, longer than I can remember. Ages.
GARROSH: So you were here when Malchezaar and the other demons arrived some years back.
BERTHOLD: Yes, sir. Malchezaar, Illhoof, a few others.
MOKVAR: Um, just thinking out loud here, but if you’re the doorman, wouldn’t it be your job to, say, not let those guys in?
BERTHOLD: Well, I suppose, sir…in theory…but, well…I am a ghost.
GARROSH: And?
BERTHOLD: Well…I couldn’t really do much to stop them, what with my being noncorporeal and all.
GARROSH: Uh, what about like the zillion and five ghosts that I’ve had attack me in places like this?
FARANELL: Speaking from personal experience, I’ve never let being dead stop me from smacking someone down if need be.
GARROSH: See?
FARANELL: I mean, that’s just about standards.
BERTHOLD: I…well…um, I don’t know what to tell you, sir…
GARROSH: Okay, first, we’ll just update your title from “doorman” to “doormat” and move on. So when you’re not doing a bang-up job on house security, what DO you do?
BERTHOLD: Well, mostly I port people to the upper levels of the tower, sir.
MOKVAR: Sounds like an exciting life.
LIADRIN: Hmm, Berthold?
BERTHOLD: Yes, ma’am?
LIADRIN: Since you have the ability to use porting magic, is there any chance you could do the reverse? Summon someone from elsewhere in the tower to here?
BERTHOLD: I’m afraid not, ma’am. I’m not sure anyone but the master possessed that kind of power over the premises here, at least not without special enhancements.
GARROSH: Enhancements, like what?
BERTHOLD: Well, for instance, sir, I believe there was a summoning circle off of one of the libraries that Illhoof used to use…
MOKVAR: Probably only good for pulling demons from the Twisted Nether…
BERTHOLD: …or there’s the Opera House, where the performers can summon…well, all manner of things, from what I hear. Glamours mostly, I suppose, but one never knows with those theater types.
GARROSH: Huh. What do you magic types think?
FARANELL: Hard to say without seeing what they have going on there.
MOKVAR: Sounds like it’s mostly smoke and mirrors, really, but I’m not sure what else to suggest.
GARONA: Medivh might have had some relics in the upper chambers that we could use, but I’m not sure, and we’d have to go past the Opera House regardless…
GARROSH: Okay, sounds like we have something to go check on, anyway.
BERTHOLD: Very good, sir. When you go, please do give my best to Barnes, the stage manager. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him.
GARROSH: Huh. Not for anything, but if you’re, like, Mr. Portal Guy, why couldn’t you port yourself up there to pay him a visit?
BERTHOLD: I…goodness…now that you mention it, sir, I don’t see why not…
GARROSH: Yeah, see?
BERTHOLD: Why…I could portal myself…anywhere in the castle… <eyes widening> Ghost concubines, here I come!
Berthold waves his hand and teleports away.
GARROSH: Huh.
MOKVAR: He could have at least offered to send us to the Opera House first.
GARONA: You men are all alike. Even when you’re dead.
Okay, so, kind of a surprise ending there, but at least we’ve got a possible lead or two. We’re making our way to the Opera House now, so with any luck we’ll dig up something useful. If not, well, we’ve got a giant creepy haunted castle full of stuff to go rifling through. Sounds like a recipe for success to me.
Stay tuned.
“Knock knock. (Who’s there?) Eugene. (Eugene who?) You, Jean, and I would make a lovely couple, don’t you think, Susan?”
Days of future past
The trip from Kalimdor to Northrend isn’t exactly a short one, but normally it’s never really felt long to me. This time, though, it felt like it took forever. A short way into the flight, I took Edwin down below deck to talk to him alone and laid out the story for him – how his other self had managed to mess up the timelines, and how that’s led to everything being a disaster in this world. The worst part is that he barely responded to any of it. Just sat there, listening, staring at the floor most of the way though.
I was expecting him to get angry or argue with me or something when I told him what we needed to do, but he didn’t say a word. Just sat there, almost-but-not-quite nodded…I guess it shouldn’t surprise me. It’s an awful lot to get dropped on you all at once, and then that’s without it even being YOU that’s responsible, in a way at least. And without it being your BROTHER whose meant-to-happen death is the lynchpin to the whole damn thing.
Liadrin was there to greet us at the Argent Vanguard. The place was much more heavily fortified than the last time I’d been there. Over the last several months, Horde and Alliance forces had been pushed back from the Borean Tundra and Dragonblight, and so now most of the combined troops have been consolidated here. The base was expanded and reinforced, with more buildings, ramparts, a keep for the command base, a docking tower for airships…really impressive, actually, until you stop to think what made it necessary.
When we arrived, the base was in the middle of fending off an attack by Nerubian tunnelers. Nothing to worry too much about, according to Liadrin – these Nerubians crop up every so often and are more of a nuisance than anything. Fitting enough for a big ol’ batch of cockroaches.
From the docking tower, we could see Saurfang and Bolvar leading some of the troops around and beating the bugs back. While Drok and his crew tended to the Windrunner, a couple of Liadrin’s aides took Jaina, Faranell, Dontrag, and Utvoch down to their temporary quarters to get settled. The rest of us stood on the docking platform, watching the skirmish below.
DRANOSH: Definitely not enough of them to really get anywhere. Why even bother?
LIADRIN: To be a disturbance, most likely.
GARROSH: Why waste soldiers – or, well, bugs – just to annoy your enemy?
LIADRIN: Think of it from the Lich King’s perspective You have an effectively unlimited supply of minions. They don’t need to eat or sleep or rest. You enemy does. Why wouldn’t you use some of those minions to disrupt your enemies’ sleep and stop them ever settling in for a meal in comfort?
GARROSH: You know, when you put it like that, it’s actually kind of creepy smart.
DRANOSH: I think I’m going to go down and give the good guys a hand. It’s been a while since I’ve been on the winning side of a fight. <smirks at Garrosh and gestures toward Saurfang below> Besides, can’t let the old man get too big a lead on me. You want in?
GARROSH: Go ahead. I’m going to stay up here and get caught up with Liadrin.
DRANOSH: Up to you.
Dranosh leaps down from the docking tower. Liadrin and Mokvar move to either side of Garrosh. They continue to watch Dranosh while they talk.
LIADRIN: Have you told him?
GARROSH: No.
MOKVAR: Are you going to?
GARROSH: <pauses for a long moment> If I did, do you think there’s any chance at all that he would turn back?
MOKVAR: <shakes head> No.
GARROSH: Then let him go to the end not having to know who killed him.
We watched the battle for a while – Mokvar and I filling in some of the extra details on the Great Time FUBAR for Liadrin – until it finally wound down and the Argent troops returned to their stations. Liadrin and the others went into the keep to see about squeezing in a meal uninterrupted, but I wasn’t feeling very hungry, so I stayed outside and figured I’d take Mortimer out to stretch his wings some.
There was an orc soldier at the stables tending to another wyvern when I went to get Mortimer. We got to talking while I saddled Mortimer up. Guy name of Gar’lok. Turns out he was one of the soldiers at the Wrathgate. He asked a million questions about the demon attack on Orgrimmar, but above all he was worried about whether his kid had gotten out in time. Something told me not to ask, but I couldn’t help it. His kid was a boy. Named Gurtash. Of course. I wrapped the conversation up quickly and took Mortimer out.
We circled around the base a few times, then as we were flying over the keep, I spotted Mokvar and Edwin standing outside, looking over the base. I brought Mortimer down and joined them.
GARROSH: Everyone still inside?
MOKVAR: Back in their quarters now, mostly. Liadrin was going to meet with Bolvar. I think she’s going to have him take charge of the base while she’s away, once we’re ready to go.
GARROSH: What about Saurfang?
MOKVAR: I think he’s assuming he’s coming with us. Can’t blame him, really – how often does he get to go on a mission with his son?
GARROSH: This will be his last one, if we manage to pull this off.
MOKVAR: You know we will. Especially now. I mean, come on, bringing two Saurfangs? That’s not even fair.
GARROSH: Heh. Let’s hope. <looks to Faranell> You hanging in there okay, Doc? You’ve been pretty quiet.
Edwin stares silently into the mountains.
Doc?
Edwin continues staring wordlessly.
Edwin?
Edwin turns to face Garrosh, still not speaking.
Look, I know you’ve had an awful lot dropped on you today, so I can see why you might be having trouble wrapping your head around it all.
FARANELL: <looking down at the ground> I’m not doing it.
GARROSH: Um…
MOKVAR: Oh boy…
GARROSH: You WHAT?
FARANELL: I said I’m not doing it.
GARROSH: You understand this whole thing kind of HINGES on you, right?
FARANELL: Yes, I do. I also understand that if we do what you were talking about doing, it means Patrick is going to die. Hell, not even just die – what did you say? – he gets turned into some undead mastermind working for the Scourge? He doesn’t even get to rest in peace!
GARROSH: I know, I know, it’s wrong and it’s awful and it’s not fair, but it’s the only way to set things right in this world.
FARANELL: And who decides what’s “right,” Garrosh? You? I’ve heard people talking – here and in the future – and I don’t exactly get the sense that you have this great track record for deciding what’s “right.”
GARROSH: Edwin, this isn’t what was supposed to happen. Hell, you were in Orgrimmar – did you not see those demons overrunning the place?
FARANELL: You also said back in my time – where I came from – the Scourge was going to overrun Lordaeron. So if you’re so fired up to go change the past, why don’t we just go stop that from happening, too?
GARROSH: Because like it or not, the Scourge invasion was what was supposed to happen, it’s what ALWAYS happened—
FARANELL: It always happened to you, Garrosh! Why is it okay to fix your present and not mine?
GARROSH: Things only ever happened like this because the past got MESSED with, Edwin!
FARANELL: Your past! Not mine – these events you’re talking about that “had to happen” – they haven’t happened yet for me! They’re my future! Who the hell says Patrick wasn’t “supposed” to be alive?
GARROSH: He’s only alive because you – he – the OTHER you went back and mucked things up so he WOULD!
FARANELL: So what? Good! I’m glad he did!
GARROSH: Edwin, that’s exactly the kind of shit that an ENTIRE DRAGONFLIGHT devoted their lives to preventing!
FARANELL: Well—
GARROSH: You can’t go back and change the past just because you don’t like how it turned out!
FARANELL: I—
GARROSH: You see how things play out in the future so you decide you’re going to go back and prevent it? Nothing good can come out of that, Edwin, it—
FARANELL: Don’t go to Pandaria!
GARROSH: …
MOKVAR: Oh…crap.
GARROSH: Did…you not hear ANYTHING I was just saying?!
FARANELL: What, you don’t like a little tinkering with your future? I thought that’s what we did around here.
GARROSH: What happened with Patrick HAPPENED. And if we don’t set it right… Look, I get that you care about him, but look around. You’ve got to realize people are DYING because of this!
FARANELL: You’re asking me to kill my brother!
Garrosh punches Faranell, knocking him down. While Faranell gathers himself, Garrosh stands over him.
GARROSH: Listen to me carefully because I’m only going to say this once. I get that you’re scared. I get that you’re upset. You have a right to be. I am too. And if you want to be angry at me for laying all this on you, you want to hate me, you go ahead. <glares at Faranell a moment, collecting himself> But don’t you DARE stand there and talk to me like you’re the only one losing a brother.
FARANELL: <head hanging> It’s…it’s not right…
GARROSH: You’re right. It’s not. <looks around> There are a lot of things that aren’t right. <looks back to Faranell> I think you need to see some more of them.
I pulled him back up, brought him to the stables, and had the flight master set him up with a gryphon. Then we took off and flew a path around Icecrown – taking care more than once to steer clear of the frost wyrms that seemed to be in flight nearly everywhere.
We flew over Ymirheim, where legions of vrykul were marching, training, lining up in squads. We flew over the Shadow Vault, back in Scourge hands, where saronite from the Weeping Quarry was being used to build massive siege engines. We flew over the front gates of Icecrown Citadel, surrounded by thousands of flesh giants and colossal skeletons. One battalion after another of zombies and ghouls. Gargoyles enough to blacken the sky, until I got the bright idea that we maybe didn’t want to be flying around out there. On the way back to the Argent Vanguard, we flew over the Broken Front, where an army of Scourge was gathering and marching east, while frost wyrms circled over Scourgeholm.
We landed back at the base, on a hill where the Argent people had put up a large tent that served as a makeshift chapel. From where we stood, we could see the mountains beyond the Breach, and part of the field swarming with gathering undead.
GARROSH: This is what we’re facing. You know those Scourge I told you about, the ones that wiped out Lordaeron? They weren’t even a fraction of this. And they’re coming.
FARANELL: Patrick… Right now, Patrick is safe in Thunder Bluff.
GARROSH: Right. He’s safe in Thunder Bluff NOW. Before that he was safe in Hearthglen. And safe in Andorhal. How long before he runs out of places to be safe?
Faranell lowers his head quietly.
Liadrin’s people will fight to the last person to hold them back. I’ve got no doubt of that. But sooner or later, it WILL be the last person. And then all of this gets unleashed on the rest of the world.
FARANELL: I just don’t want him to die.
GARROSH: Doc, it doesn’t make me any happier to tell you this than it makes you to hear it. But Patrick is going to die. The only question is, how many others are you going to let die with him? How many would he LET you?
Faranell paces around for a moment, occasionally looking back toward the marching Scourge, then walks up to the entrance to the chapel tent. From inside, Argent Confessor Paletress steps to the opening to meet him.
FARANELL: You’re the confessor?
PALETRESS: <nods> I’m Argent Confessor Paletress. Do you need to unburden your spirit?
FARANELL: Yes, Confessor.
PALETRESS: Tell me what it is you’ve done, friend.
Faranell looks past the Breach as waves of Scourge gather, frost wyrms circling in the sky above them.
FARANELL: I couldn’t even begin to tell you what I’ve done, Confessor.
PALETRESS: I’m sure it’s not as bad as you believe. Guilt often weighs on us far more heavily than the true weight of our sins.
FARANELL: It doesn’t matter. What I’ve done isn’t what I’ve come to confess.
PALETRESS: What do you wish to tell me, then, my friend?
Faranell watches a frost wyrm tearing down the tower at Crusader’s Pinnacle in the distance. He looks down and rubs his hands over his face, then finally lifts his head, not quite returning his eyes to Paletress.
FARANELL: I’m going to kill my brother.
“The Light does not abandon its champions.” If only she knew.
