Tag Archives: nagrand
Open season on ogres?
Some disturbing reports coming back to me from a couple different fronts today. Short version: the Grimtotem seem to have gone batshit crazy.
Actually, let me correct that. I mean, let’s face it, the Grimtotem were already pretty batshit. But apparently now they’re managing to go batshittier.
Word’s come in from Feralas that the handful of Grimtotem in the area have started launching attacks on the Gordunni ogres. There doesn’t seem to be much of a pattern so far, just one strike after another in the ruins of Isildien, the Gordunni outpost near Camp Mojache, sometimes even venturing all the way into Dire Maul. Here and there some of the ogres working with us out of Stonemaul Hold have gotten caught up in the attacks, but according to Orhan Ogreblade it doesn’t seem like they were targets specifically, just caught in the crossfire since, you know, when you’re in a mood to kill ogres, you’re not always too picky about which ones.
Side note – can’t really blame them there. I know back in Nagrand I used to get into ogre-killing moods all the time, and when that happened I didn’t care which ones I was hacking to pieces. “Big, tall, really REALLY fat guy” really does start to bleed together after the first few seconds, right? Oh shit, are some of our ogres going to read that and get all pissy with me now? Do I need to find the damn delete key again? Wait, no, what am I talking about? They’re ogres. They can’t read. Moving on.
So anyway, the thing with the Grimtotem in Feralas is strange, but if that’s all that was going on I wouldn’t really care a whole lot. It’s not like the Gordunni have been anything but a pain in the ass to the Horde in Feralas, so if one group of my enemies want to spend their time killing off another group of my enemies, hey, cool, have at it, boys. But I also just received a report from Krog in Brackenwall Village indicating that the Grimtotem that had settled in Dustwallow Marsh have stepped up their raids on the Stonemaul ogres as well. Granted the Grimtotem have been a pain in the ass in Dustwallow for a while, but ever since they razed Shady Rest Inn it’s seemed like they’ve mostly been focused on the humans out of Theramore. Not sure why they’d be taking an interest in the Stonemaul ogres now, but it’s starting to look like the clan all of a sudden has it in for ogres all over the place.
I’m dispatching Dontrag and Utvoch down to Dustwallow to help Krog with the ongoing investigation. (I figure he could use some extra brainpower down there, what with him being mostly surrounded my ogres. Intermittently dead ogres at that, these days.) Meanwhile I might need to step up my own plans for an inspection trip to Feralas and try to see what’s going on down there. Not sure what the Grimtotem are up to, but I kind of have a vested interest in getting in the way of anything that’s going to make their lives smoother…
It must be hard getting old…
Yesterday was Greatmother Geyah’s birthday, so I made a short trip back to Nagrand to go see her. The folks back in Garadar were giving her a birthday party, and it was good to see everybody, other than Greatmother feeling the need (yet again) to tell everyone the story about the time when I was a little kid when I was climbing a tree, and got up to one of the higher branches but slipped, but my pants got caught on the branch while I was starting to fall, and as I fell the pants got yanked down around my ankles, and so I was just hanging upside down there with my pants around my ankles and the branch hooked between my feet, and I was just stuck dangling there for a while, and, commando even then, so, you know. She always tells that story every chance she gets, because spirits forbid you let the fucking Warchief be taken seriously for a couple minutes. But she means well, and she’s getting up there and probably a little senile, so whatever.
Anyway, while I was out there, I decided to drop by a few of my old hunting spots for old time’s sake. I was going to bring Hemet Nesingwary along with me, but he was having a good old time messing with some random scrubs who were hanging around out there – people keep coming to him wanting to prove what great outdoorsmen they are, and so he just makes up random stuff to have them go kill and see how quick they eat up the chance to waste their time on pointless shit. Like seriously, you should see how many people just jump at the chance to burn up their whole day killing random animals that absolutely anyone with a sword could kill, because they actually believe that killing a bunch of talbuk that are standing around RIGHT THERE is the way to impress Hemet Fucking Nesingwary.
(That’s his real middle name, by the way. Man, his parents must have hated him. Can you imagine what middle school must have been like?)
At one point a couple years ago I think people started getting wise to the scam, so he had to dial it down a little and ask them to kill less stuff. Seriously, there was a point when he would send people all over the place killing 30 of like…everything out there. After a while he cut that down to like a dozen, just to make sure he didn’t totally lose his supply of takers. Still, it’s pretty funny to watch the fuckers eat it up even now.
So anyway, he was busy with that, so I just went out to Oshu’gun myself to see if Banthar was still wandering around. It didn’t take long to find her, but what the FUCK, man, I almost missed her what with the fucking DYE job she got apparently. Because like…okay, check it out. Back in the day, when I remember coming out here, this is what Banthar looked like:
And here’s what she looks like nowadays:
I mean, that’s just sad. It’s bad enough when an orc starts to go gray, and freaks out, and goes way overboard dyeing his hair that pitch pitch black, that shade of black that doesn’t even fucking exist in nature, and half the time they try to do the pathetic comb-over too, which let me tell you, looks sad enough on humans but is even less kind with orc hairlines. But seriously, now we’ve got a CLEFTHOOF going through midlife crisis and dyeing herself auburn? How fucking sad is that? What’s she going to do next, start riding around in a convertible wagon and hitting on clefthoofs half her age? Plus, how the fuck did she even manage to dye herself brown anyway?! If I go over to Sunspring Lake, are there going to be all these floating dye circles and stains around the shore? I can just imagine one of the ethereals over at Aeris Landing seeing this going down and being all, “Hey, Chip, check this out, you’re not going to believe this shit…”
Really, if a fucking clefthoof can’t age with dignity, what chance do the rest of us have?
[Header image provided by Angelya from Revive and Rejuvenate, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Monday mailbag
Well, I asked for questions, and you all obliged! Let’s have a look at some of this week’s mailbag – actual letters from actual readers!
Me a peon who read your blog. Me like reading words of my great warchief! And now you ask to hear from peons like myself? This what makes warchiefs Garrosh and Thrall great leaders! Me thank you.
You ask for questions from peons. Me have a question me want to ask, but was too scared. Me ask it now though. What happened to your head? When you went to Northrend it look like any other orc head, now it look like your head too small or your jaw too big. Me think you wounded in glorious battle, but never heard story of how.
Also me would like nap break in afternoon but overseer beat me and make work more. Me can has nap break?
–A Tired Peon
First of all, someone remind me to up the Razor Hill education budget next year, before we get another generation of peons grimlocking their way through writing a letter.
Second of all, ATP, the head thing. Yeah, I know. Don’t think I don’t notice the way people stare at me when they drop by Grommash Hold – and for realsies, you’re not fooling anyone, people. Acting like you’re staring in another direction and then glancing over when you think I’m not going to see? Totally not working. So I guess I might as well answer this once and for all.
So I’d like to say this was from some epic battle in Northrend, like me squaring off with Arthas, or even Anub’arak, and maybe having him unleash one of those swarms of locusts on me and they buzzed all over me and crushed my head down or some shit like that. But the truth of the matter is, it wasn’t anything that exciting.
Those of you who were up there in Northrend with me will remember my last operation was at Light’s Hammer just inside the gates of Icecrown Citadel. You might also remember that I spent most of that time hanging out there with Tirion Fordring. Who I’d already had my fill of, by the way, when I went to meet him with Thrall at his stupid-ass tournament place. (Like seriously, isn’t ONE pansy-ass traveling fair enough for the world?) So hopefully you people were all too busy forging your way into the citadel and fighting our enemies like the Horde soldiers that you are…but meanwhile I was stuck back there with Tirion…who pretty much had nothing to do for a good long time but talk. And talk.
On.
And on.
And on.
Like really, do you have ANY idea how blabby he is? The preachiness was bad enough, having to sit there and listen to his EIGHT MILLION AND SEVEN spontaneous sermons to no one in particular about the power of the Light and the need to work together against a common foe, and blah blah blah. But then he started going on for hours on end about his crazy uncle Lucius who used to live down the block from Andorhal, and thought he was King Llane, and caught Deadeye burning down a dwarf settlement in Loch Modan and forced him to retreat by beating him at Parcheesi, until he finally went off the deep end and painted himself blue and spent all his time running around Tirisfal Glades naked chasing bats with a wooden spatula, until the Kirin Tor snapped him up and locked up away in some padded room in Dalaran just to keep him out of trouble for his own good, and now Tirion feels like my day just won’t be complete until he tells me what kind of marmalade he liked to put on his toast in the morning, and I just couldn’t fucking TAKE it anymore.
So I just clamped my hands down over my ears as tight as I could and hummed real loud, and I guess I didn’t know my own strength and got carried away, because the next thing you know I’ve managed to squeeze my own fucking head down a couple helmet sizes. So good job there, me. Fucking Tirion.
Of course I suppose two years of Noggenfogger shampoo didn’t help matters, but that’s a whole other thing.
Speaking of not knowing my own strength…
I’m a warrior in the service of the Horde. I do pretty well on the battlefield, but I feel as though I can do much better. Could you tell me how you became so incredibly strong? Do you have a workout regiment, or did you acquire your amazing might through constantly crushing the enemies of the Horde under your boot?
–Revga, Orgrimmar
All of the above, Revga, all of the above. There’s really no substitute for beating the living shit out of real, live foes. For one thing, you never know what they’re going to try next, so it keeps you on your toes. Plus, you can really push yourself if you can find some real grade-A enemies to take on. Here’s where I think I might have an unfair advantage over a lot of guys, since I grew up in Nagrand. While some of the Horde here in Azeroth get started killing boars and wolves and bats, I got to get my exercise fighting hand to hand with giant fucking gronn and whole villages of ogres.
Besides that, I do have a workout routine that works pretty well for me. First thing in the morning I run a hundred laps around Grommash Hold. While I’m going around I get some extra arm exercise in by slapping the fuck out of all the pansy-ass vendors just standing around doing nothing. Especially Ray’ma, because trolls sound extra funny when you slap them around. Then I drop by the meat vendor (once she’s regained consciousness) and pick up eight pounds of roast boar for my breakfast. Gotta maintain your strength, and the protein’s good for muscle, you know.
After that I jog up by the rear gate of Orgrimmar where we keep all the siege engines, find one that looks pretty stable, and bench press it. Nothing too major, just a couple hundred reps. Then I head over to the arena and spar with some of my Kor’kron personal guards for a couple hours. The ones that live get to keep their jobs.
By that point most days it’s around lunch time, so I put Gorehowl away, hop on a wyvern (MAYBE I’LL TAKE MORTIMER THIS TIME, DEHTA BITCHES – THAT’S RIGHT, I FOUND HIM!), and fly down to Un’goro Crater…taking the scenic route up through Hyjal and Felwood then down around Silithus and through Uldum, of course (BECAUSE MORTIMER NEEDS HIS FUCKING EXERCISE TOO). When I get there I find a couple devilsaurs, beat them to death with my bare hands, drag them over to Fire Plume Ridge, and hold them over the lava till they get a good sear. Then it’s lunch time. When I’m done I head over to the eastern cliff face to get some rock climbing in, and scale my way up into Tanaris. From that point I jog over to the shore and usually drop by the Caverns of Time, or as I like to call them, the Caverns of Did I Beat My Best Time. Right now I’m sitting on 34 seconds. BEAT IT IF YOU CAN. If you don’t believe me, just take it up with Anachronos, he’s usually the one holding the stopwatch, even if it’s kind of a funky-looking melty one. Anyway, from there I jog on over to the shore and get in my afternoon swim. Which in my case means I swim from Tanaris right on back up to Durotar.
So I know what you’re thinking at this point: Wait, Garrosh, you just said you had lunch a little while before this, plus it was devilsaur, and we all know how heavy that can be – isn’t it bad for you to go swimming a short time after you’ve eaten? And the answer is yes, yes it is….IF YOU’RE A GODDAMN FUCKING PANSY.
Once I make it back to Orgrimmar, it’s usually time for afternoon tea.
At that point I usually have some Warchief crap I have to take care of, so that’s about it for the workout. As you can tell, being this awesome is a full-time job. You don’t just get a body like mine for nothing. And speaking of taking an interest in my body…
Heyyyy mighty Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, you don’t know me I’m your biggest fan EVAH!!!
And I’m an orc, and a gal, so please answer me… what color panties do you prefer in a woman? *hint hint nudge nudge*
Your faithful fan & minion
–Uukra the Hallowed
You know, you’d be surprised how often I get questions like this. Like seriously, if it was ANYTHING like this for Thrall, I don’t know why the hell he would want to get married.
So, Uukra, to answer you. When you come right down to it, I’m basically a soldier at heart, so I’m going to put this to you in military terms. One word: commando. 😉
I mean, I know that’s how I roll.
Yes, you read that right. Soak up THAT mental image. You’re welcome.
Since you mentioned Jaina Proudmoore in your post about Thrall’s wedding, and I figure you must be in the know, I just have to ask about those two. You know what I’m talking about. Did Thrall ever, um, you know?
–Grimgore, Orgrimmar
Jaina? Oh, geez, dude, who HASN’T?
Other than Lor’themar. Obvious reasons.
That’s it for this week, but keep those letters and questions coming! YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS THEM!
Monday mailbag
Running a little late today, I know, but here’s a few of this week’s letters…
I hope this missive finds you well. Your delightful and inspiring blog was recently brought to my attention, and I felt compelled to write to express my deepest appreciation. I can see now why Thrall so wisely saw fit to appoint you as his successor. With such a keen intellect at the helm, I have little doubt that we shall prevail against our foes.
I am particularly touched by your recent comments on my defense of Silvermoon. While I am saddened to see that you still harbor reservations about my loyalty and commitment, I can assure you that the good of the Horde is forefront in my thoughts, and further assure – nay, stress – that no further…shall we say…indiscretions are forthcoming. I cannot, in fact, emphasize this point enough. There is truly nothing for you to concern yourself with, and, as such, I can further assure you that there is no need for you to waste valuable time checking up on the goings-on in, say, Silverpine Forest or Gilneas. With so many Horde outposts in need of your sage attention, it would pain me to know that we Forsaken were needlessly occupying your valuable time. So, once again, no need to visit Silverpine. Really. Don’t you worry your dear, most interestingly proportioned head over it.
Also, loathe though I am to impose upon the Warchief’s attention, might I request, at your next opportunity, that you have a word or two with the most honorable Captain Bloodfist, of the Kor’kron detachment generously assigned to aid in the defense of my beloved Undercity? Skillful military tactician though I’m sure he is, I cannot help but notice over these past several months that he persists in…looking at me. In…ways that are starting to make me feel rather uncomfortable.
–Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Undercity
Oh crap, I think I’m about to have more forms to fill out.
Although…I mean, seriously, do you ever look at the way you dress?
Anyway. It’s nice to see Sylvanas coming around a little. Like I said a couple weeks ago, I really did have my doubts about her, but it really seems like she’s pulling herself together these days. Nice to know I don’t have to worry too much about her, it’s not like I don’t have enough on my mind already these days.
HAHAHA! That’s it, laddy, put them DEHTA pantywaists in their place! Ye know, they keep tellin’ all their recruits they’re me archenemy. At least that’s what they say – I haven’t seen ’em dare come near me themselves! But at least they talk a good game. Ye notice, though, they keep tryin’ to recruit people to run errands for them, but they still only have six members, so good on ye, lads, fine job retainin’ yer recruits!
If any of ye DEHTA types are readin’ this, I’ll raise me stein and have a drink to yer health…and use it to wash down the goodly feast of assorted Northrend meats I went out and killed fresh today! Ye know where to find me if ye ever grow a pair!
–Hemet Nesingwary, Sholazar Basin
I don’t really have a lot to say here. This just made me happy! Good to hear from you, Hemet, it’s been a while! For anyone who doesn’t know, Hemet used to hang out in Nagrand, so I used to go hunting with him sometimes. Hey Hemet, remember that time we were hunting Banthar, and that damn Durn the Hungerer came sneaking up behind us? Like how does he DO that anyway? How does a 50 foot tall giant gronn just SNEAK UP on you like that??
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
Seriously? Clefthoof stew? And not only ENCOURAGING people to eat clefthoof stew, when there are many far healthier, less murder-requiring dietary options available, but GLORYING in your choice to make such food out of a CRUELLY BETRAYED friend and companion of your childhood?
You really are determined to evoke the wrath of D.E.H.T.A., aren’t you?
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Oh no. THE WRATH OF DEHTA! WHAT-EVER WILL I DO. Hey, news flash, Lather-on-us, the whole time I was up there in Northrend, there was only one person whose “wrath” I ever concerned myself with at all, and guess what, it wasn’t you, or any of your whiny druid friends.
I already wasted enough time on you guys last week, but looks like Hemet might have a few choice words for you. YOU REMEMBER HIM, RIGHT? THE ARCHENEMY you guys were going to PUT IN HIS PLACE, and you sure as hell did, provided by “in his place” you meant “at the dinner table, feasting on a spread of barbecued, stewed, and roasted shoveltusk, woolly rhino, mammoth, and worg.” Yum!
I know you be tinkin’ I be supportin’ you as my replacement as Warchief, but I really only gave ya da job to prove to you an’ everybody what a failure you’d be at it. Ever since you came to Orgrimmar you been actin’ like you be knowin’ how to run tings better dan me, so I figured I be givin’ you enough rope to hang yourself. Not to mention dis way when I come back everybody will be so happy to be rid of you dat dey’ll tink I’m even more of a hero. Like seriously mon, you got no idea how much all de other leaders be missin’ me. After you, all I’ll have to do is walk in a straight line without droolin’ on meself an’ it’ll be an improvement, mon. P.S. You smell.
—Bob Trall, Echo Isles
WHAT!!! OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THRALL WOULD SAY THAT WTF!!!! And WTF is he doing in the Echo Isles I thought he was supposed to be in the Maelstrom or Mount Hyjal or wherever the fuck he is that’s not here!!!
AND I DO NOT SMELL WTF!!!
First journal
I mentioned my journal from back home in Nagrand a little while back. I thought it might be fun to take a look at what I used to write, so I dug it out of my old things. No small task, let me tell you, with all the junk I dragged over with me when I moved to Orgrimmar. You do NOT want to see the mess that’s gotten shoved into the attic in Grommash Hold.
Anyway, here’s my very first entry:
Once upon a time and a very good time it was there was a talbuk coming down along the road and this talbuk that was coming down along the road met a nicens little orc named baby tuck.
Huh. I’ll be honest, I really don’t know what’s going on there.
How about we try something else…my first poetry! That’s it! Okay…so…here it is. One of the very first poems I ever wrote, about the pet clefthoof I had as a kid!
Pudgy little clefthoof
Eating some grass
Pudgy little clefthoof
Fat furry assPudgy little clefthoof
You’re so fun
Love to be petted
By everyonePudgy little clefthoof
Shaggy and brown
Pudgy little clefthoof
Follow me aroundPudgy little clefthoof
I love you
Taste so yummy
In a clefthoof stew
Okay…I didn’t remember the ending there. Gotta say, though, if you ever have a chance to have some authentic clefthoof stew, that’s damn good eatin’.
Upcoming plans
Just a short update today.
I was meeting with Eitrigg this afternoon to work out plans for the next series of inspection visits to our Kalimdor operations and I told him about the blog. He seemed pretty happy that I took his advice about starting it and said he’d look it up. Which is good in a way but on the other hand, great, now there’s one person I have to make sure I don’t start talking about in case they see it. Except for me talking about him now. I should stop that. Except talking about stopping talking about him is still talking about him. HEAD HURTS. RAAAA!!
Funny thing is, though, Eitrigg was all proud of himself for giving me the idea to work out my ideas in writing, but the truth is I actually used to do this before. Back in Nagrand, I used to keep a journal and write in it all the time. I kept to myself back then and didn’t really talk to a lot of people, what with me not knowing the whole story about Grom and thinking my dad was the greatest traitor to the orcs ever, the end. I was probably kind of emo, too, but hey, YOU try living under the belief that your dad had doomed your whole civilization.
Anyway, I didn’t have a lot of people to talk to, but I had a lot on my mind, so I used to write in this journal that Greatmother gave me. Mostly I’d just write about my day and try to work out stuff that was on my mind. Sometimes I’d get creative and write some poems. Yeah, what of it? I still have it so maybe one of these days I’ll dig through it and put a few things up on the blog.
Anyway, I need to go finish making arrangements. Ashenvale’s up next.
