Tag Archives: nozdormu
Durnholde Keep
After Mokvar and Faranell dropped their respective timeline bombs on us, we hashed out how best to juggle things to keep the risks to a minimum. In the middle of things, Chromie popped in just to…I don’t know…go “gee willickers” a couple times and remind us that Mokvar and Faranell absolutely must not interfere with their former selves, like we didn’t already get that. And then she blathered on about all the crap that could go wrong with the timestream if they do, and most of it pretty much just came off as “WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS WORDS BAD.”
So yeah, we’ve got to be careful about this, but the way around it seemed pretty obvious. Mokvar couldn’t run into himself at Durnholde Keep, so okay, he just wouldn’t go. He stayed back at the inn in Southshore and kept an eye out for Tirion’s people arriving while we went to Durnholde to take care of Thrall. Meanwhile, Faranell can’t interfere with his old human self, so he came with the rest of us to Durnholde – get him away from Southshore for a little while, minimize the chance for a random run in, and plus this way he could be traveling with the bunch of us at all times so we can all be giving a sort of buffer zone in case Faranell v1.0 turns up. Liadrin also had a pretty sharp idea, to have a sign/countersign for Faranell, just in case he’s ever separated from us or if anything happens where we need to make sure we’re dealing with the right Faranell. The way things tend to go for us, it’s probably a good idea not to leave anything to chance.
Side note, I’m not sure if Faranell is worried about running into his younger self, or if seeing Kel’Thuzad and Helcular just threw him or something, but he’s been acting kind of strange since he and Mokvar got back. A couple times now I’ve caught him just staring at himself in the mirror, touching his face, just seeming all kinds of distracted. Not sure what to make of that. Hopefully he’ll be able to keep his head in the game until we finish what we came for.
So anyway, I finally headed out with Faranell, Liadrin, and Utvoch, and we made our way over to Durnholde. And I’ve got to say, I don’t know WHAT was going on with that defunct Alliance group that was supposed to handle this, that they thought they needed five people to handle this job. The Noz might have been erring on the side of safety, or maybe those Alliance scrubs really do suck, but no joke, I can’t possibly exaggerate how easily we rolled over those Durnholde guards. We had to clear out the lower barracks first, where some of the orcs were being held. And then I guess one of the officers came running in, some dude named Drake, at least that’s what Liadrin tells me. I wouldn’t have thought there was anything special about the guy myself, what with how he dropped like a rock after one good chop from Gorehowl.
Anyway…at that point we were set to head into the keep proper and get Thrall. It took a few minutes to hack up the handful of guards on the way in, and then, lo and behold, there was our Warchief-to-be chilling in the basement cell. And you know, I’ve got to say, you always figure the whole time travel business is pretty straightforward as far as the do’s and don’ts, but you don’t realize how hard it can be to bite your tongue until you’re standing there with a younger version of someone you know. I had to keep stopping myself from saying things to him, not that half of what I would have to say would make any sense to him coming from my fake-ass human face.
Here’s the other thing, though. I wasn’t expecting him to be so young. I mean, I knew how old he was, it’s not hard to take now-Thrall and roll him back ten years in my head. But even beyond the ten years…he was just so YOUNG. You could see it. Even locked in a jail cell, he just seemed so…unburdened. His eyes looked so much less tired. I never even realized how much Thrall seems like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders now, until I saw what he used to be like. Anyway.
One thing that was still the same, though – past or present, credit where it’s due, Thrall’s kind of a badass any way you cut it. In fact, I think I liked past-Thrall a little more, just because he seemed a lot more unapologetic about it. Like for instance, we broke him out of his cell, and he ran up to the keep’s armory to grab some armor and a weapon for himself. And there was this armorer guy standing watch there, and he started screaming bloody murder when he saw Thrall roll in, and before you could say “open-hand bitch-slap,” well…see for yourselves.
THRALL KEEPS THE PIMP HAND STRONG.
“That’s enough from him” is right, Thrall. Roll with it, man. Hell, bottle some of that shit up and send it to yourself ten years from now, you could use it. True story.
Anyway, the stupid humans sent a bunch more guards to try to stop us on the way out, and we made hilariously short work of them, and then I guess there was some captain that we polished off without me even realizing he was supposed to be someone important because OMG SPLAT. At that point, Thrall had the bright idea that he wanted to use the captain guy’s horse to high-tail it out of there…even though the horse was barely moving faster than we were on foot. I mean, seriously, were these the best mounts the humans had available back in the day? Really? And meanwhile Thrall was looking absolutely ridiculous sitting on top of this thing, PLUS if he was moving any slower he’d be going backwards, and for real, dude, have you just not learned ghost wolf form yet? Because even that would have been faster than this reject horse.
Anyhow, you don’t need every last painful detail. We got Thrall to Tarren Mill, and killed some more humans – always a plus – and then some of those Infinite Dragonflight guys showed up, and we handed them their asses easily enough. And then out of nowhere this fog rolled in, and – you guessed it – The Noz came pimping in to check on things, and confirmed that the timeline has been secured against the Infinite Dragonflight’s interference, and that’s nice and all, dude, but how about you leave a memo for yourself not to be a frigging douche-tard down the road so we don’t have to waste time stopping your future chronies (SEE WHAT I DID THERE?) from screwing around with things?
Oh and also? Just have to say – Thrall’s human friend Taretha? SPITTING IMAGE of Jaina. Seriously. Crossbow to my head, I could not tell those two apart. And you know what? Draw your own conclusions about her. I don’t even want to know.
We’re back at the Southshore inn now, and we just need to hold tight until Tirion and Alexandros Mograine and all those people show up. I’ll keep you posted on what happens. Or, you know, you can consult the nearest history book.
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
So it goes
So check this out! I’m writing to you FROM THE PAST! How freaky is that?
Okay, so, Mokvar just pointed out that ANY writing I’ve done would have to be from the past, seeing as I would have to write it, and then at some point AFTER that you would read it, and so I would ALWAYS be writing from the past, and yeah, thank you, Mokvar, way to piss on my excitement and muddy up what should have been a cool moment. Fuck.
Okay, I had to be smack him around a few times for a minute there. I’m back now.
Anyway, though, the point is, I’m not writing to you from the plain-ol’-regular past right now, where I write a blog post and a couple hours later you see it. No, no, I’m writing to you from TEN YEARS AGO. Because GUESS WHERE WE ARE, bitches! Um, I mean, WHEN we are. Although that doesn’t roll off the tongue quite as well. Anyhow.
That’s right, right this minute I’m writing to you from old Hillsbrad. Well, right this minute, to me. To you it’s still ten years ago…okay, you know what, you guys know what I mean, so I’m going to stop trying to keep my verb tenses straight, I’m just going to give myself a headache if I try to keep this shit up.
Anyway, I know what you’re wondering – how the hell can I be connecting to the internet and accessing the here-and-now blog from Hillsbrad ten years ago? I mean, hell, they were still using fucking dial-up back then, right? Well here’s the thing: I had the foresight to bring my laptop on this trip, complete with the why-fly doohickey Spazzle hooked me up with, and so I’m still able to get online using Nozdormu’s wireless network. And I know what you’re going to say next – “but, but, ten years ago!” Well here’s the thing, part two. The Noz’s wireless network is fucking AMAZING. Everything he does is all time-warpy, and his network is no exception. Hell, ten years is nothing – you can connect to that thing from fucking CENTURIES ago. Not to mention, his built-in spam filter? Not only does it BLOCK all the spam and pop-ups and all that crap, but it locates their source and sends a fucking bronze dragon to roflstomp it and pretty much wipe it clean out of the timestream before it even has the chance to exist. I think he calls the feature iPwn.
So, let me catch you all up on the situation. I traveled through the portal to old Hillsbrad with the rest of my team: me, Mokvar, Faranell, Lady Liadrin, and Utvoch. Dontrag ended up staying out. The Noz made a fuss about six of us going on the trip…for some reason, sending five of us back was no problem, but six, oh boy, sending six was going to be all kinds of logistical headaches. Apparently the time portal takes a huge amount of power to maintain – 1.21 gigawatts, if I remember him right – and trying to squeeze an extra person in was just going to make them blow a fuse or something. At first I tried arguing with him, and made the case that really, Dontrag and Utvoch should only count as one person between them, because seriously, you’ve met them, right? But oh no, he wouldn’t budge, so I just had the two of them do their coin-toss game to see who got to go. Utvoch won – which broke Dontrag’s 89-toss win streak, by the way – and so here he is.
I got the last laugh on the Noz, by the way. Since he wasn’t going to let Dontrag come with us, I told Dontrag to wait for us with Nozdormu and keep him company. BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT ONE COMING, did you, Noz? HAH!
I was having a good chuckle over that while we took the portal, but apparently karma really is a bitch, because Utvoch didn’t waste much time making me think maybe I should have brought the other one. Or neither. Come to think of it, neither’s starting to sound pretty good.
So anyway…we go through the portal, and the bunch of us are getting ourselves situated and checking out each other’s new fugly human looks. Mine’s not a disaster, although I don’t know WHAT’S going on with this beard. Oh and Faranell, check this out, HIS human form? It’s not even a fake human form — he looks like his old self, like what he looked like as a human before he died and got turned undead. Crazy, huh?
Anyhow, we’re all checking this stuff out, when I look up and see Utvoch is already getting mixed up with something. He’s wandered a little ways off to the nearby hillside, and he’s managed to piss off some giant moth that’s buffeting him around with its wings. By the time I can yell “The hell are you doing, fuckwit?” he’s already got the moth dead, but still, we’re supposed to avoid messing around with anything that isn’t necessary while we’re back here. Still, I don’t think too much of it, because what are the odds of any kind of fallout from killing a moth, right?
Yeah. Hold that thought.
So, we take the scenic route so as not to be noticed, sneaking past the outskirts of Tarren Mill past the south road. We make our way south just past the watchtower, and we’re about to make the turn down to Southshore, when what do we spot in the field just off the road? A giant fucking yeti, totally owning a pack of five humans. And like, seriously, this wasn’t one of your garden variety yeti, this was the super-gigantic wendigo variety with the big curving horns and shit, the kind I thought you only saw up in Northrend. And this motherfucker is no joke, because he’s totally laying waste to these people even though they seem to be adventurer types, like with a healer and a volunteer meat shield (although seriously, who the fuck volunteers for that job?). Although by the time we see what’s going on, the meat shield guy is a lot less shield and a lot more meat, mostly of the dead variety, and so now the yeti is running around smacking the rest of them down, and within another minute or so they’re all dead.
At that point, Mr. No Fucking Around Giant Yeti Guy spots us and attacks. Naturally I charge in to intercept him before he starts eating someone squishy like Faranell, and I mostly manage to keep him focused on me while everyone else helps burn him down. Even though, come on, who do you think really did most of the work on that one? Anyway, we get the yeti dead without too much trouble, and we go to have a look at the pile of dead humans, when who should pop in on us but the Noz’s pipsqueak buddy Chromie, and…well, here:
Chromie teleports in amid the group.
FARANELL: <jumps> AAH! Don’t…don’t do that!
CHROMIE: Hiya guys! How’s it—
She looks around at the pile of bodies.
Oh fudge crackers. No, no, no…
UTVOCH: That sounds kind of good, do you have s—
GARROSH: <smacks Utvoch> I’m expanding your ban to all words.
UTVOCH: Sorry, sir.
GARROSH: <pummel> Those were words.
Chromie rubs her forehead, then looks around again.
CHROMIE: Really, guys, you haven’t even been here an hour yet. Gramps is not gonna be happy about this…
LIADRIN: What’s wrong?
CHROMIE: <sigh> Remember how we’d sent some adventurers back here on a mission a few years ago?
LIADRIN: Oh no…
MOKVAR: Crap.
CHROMIE: Yeah. So… <looks around the bodies> That’s them.
FARANELL: I don’t get it, though – we haven’t done anything since we’ve been here, have…?
Faranell trails off as the rest of the group turns to look at Utvoch one by one.
GARROSH: You. Fucking. Idiot.
UTVOCH: Yes sir. <pause> Um, but why, sir?
GARROSH: <pummel>
UTVOCH: OWW! Sorry, sir…
MOKVAR: Not to be the secondary idiot here, but I’m a little confused, to be honest. I get that it has to have something to do with the moth, but how did that end up getting these people killed?
GARROSH: Please tell me they were Alliance, at least.
CHROMIE: Yup, they were.
GARROSH: Okay, silver lining, then.
CHROMIE: And as for the moth… <sighs and rubs her head again> The big guy here was a wendigo named Yettimus, and—
LIADRIN: Really? “Yettimus”? People call him that?
FARANELL: Not anymore.
MOKVAR: It is a little on the nose.
LIADRIN: Should I start calling Mokvar or Utvoch “Orcinator” or some such?
UTVOCH: Oh hey, that would be kinda coo—
GARROSH: <pummel>
UTVOCH: OWW!!
GARROSH: Word ban.
UTVOCH: <starts to open mouth, then nods>
CHROMIE: Sooooooo… Yettimus here used to stay pretty secluded up in the hills until fairly recently – by your time, that is – and he mostly kept himself entertained chasing butterflies.
FARANELL: Simple minds, I guess.
GARROSH: Maybe I need to get a butterfly net for you-know-who.
CHROMIE: But, when you guys arrived, Utvoch wound up killing that moth, and in the original timeline that was supposed to happen, that moth was the one that kept Yettimus occupied for most of the afternoon… And when it wasn’t there to keep him busy, he got bored and went wandering around the fields here, and, well… <sigh>
GARROSH: Ugh… Okay, so, what now? Can we maybe pop back out to our own time, and then come back a few minutes earlier and straighten this out?
LIADRIN: I would imagine not…
CHROMIE: Nope.
GARROSH: How come?
CHROMIE: You can’t double back on your own timeline. Once you get mixed up in a certain set of events, you commit to that timestream, and can’t interfere with your own past.
LIADRIN: Otherwise, you create paradoxes and other like anomalies, correct?
FARANELL: When did you become an expert on this?
CHROMIE: No, she’s dead-on right.
LIADRIN: I’m a student of the philosophies of the Light. I happen to enjoy theoretical discussions.
CHROMIE: And don’t even get me started on the beehive you can get into if you cross your own timeline and interact with yourself. Not even gramps can do that without causing all kinds of problems.
GARROSH: Okay, so we can’t get a do-over on the moth…and I’m guessing you can’t just yank these people back out to avoid getting curbstomped by the yeti…
CHROMIE: Nopers.
GARROSH: Okay, so…what do we do now?
CHROMIE: Well, the you part of the “we” just got a new job while you’re here. And while you do that, the me part of the “we” gets to go update Nozdormu on what’s happening here, which he’s not going to like at all…
MOKVAR: So now we need to go make sure Thrall escapes from Durnholde like he’s supposed to?
LIADRIN: It would make sense, to correct the disruption in the timeline…
CHROMIE: I like her! She’s smart.
GARROSH: Not something I get to hear about my minions often…
FARANELL: You know we’re all standing right here, right?
LIADRIN: Wait, “minion”?
MOKVAR: I’m really not liking this business of having to go into Durnholde…
CHROMIE: Well maybe you should have thought of that before you let your ADD squirrel-chasing puppy friend go running around without a leash! Jeepers!
GARROSH: Okay, okay, fine… We’ll go take care of Thrall, just have to juggle that with the original mission, and…ugh…do we at least have time to check on things in Southshore to make sure we’re not already screwed?
CHROMIE: You’ve got a little time before Thrall absolutely has to be in Tarren Mill, so yup. Just be sure to make good time getting in and out of Durnholde when you get there! I’ll check in again later — have fun!
Chromie teleports away again.
So, we’re at the inn in Southshore now. One stroke of luck – none of the Silver Hand people have gotten here. Liadrin talked to Kelly the innkeeper and made a little show of some of her paladinny holy crap to make it seem like she was one of Tirion’s people, and found out he’s not expecting his other paladin guests till tomorrow sometime. So we’ve got a little time to work with if we move fast.
While we were getting settled here at the inn, I sent Mokvar and Utvoch to round up the bodies and bury them somewhere. Faranell volunteered to go up with them, too, to help speed up the process. That left Liadrin and I to get us a couple rooms here at the inn, although Kelly gave us a look when I told him she and I each wanted a separate room. Like, dude, really, grow up. Then I mentioned how we had some other people who would be joining us, so we’d need space for more than one in each room, and OH BOY the look from the innkeeper got an upgrade. Like SERIOUSLY, dude, GROW the fuck UP. You run an inn, stop acting like a fourteen-year-old. Or who knows, maybe these humans are easily shocked or something. None of the innkeepers in Silvermoon would bat an eyelash at any of this shit.
Anyway…once the gravediggers’ commission get back, we’ll get rolling on the whole Durnholde thing. Hopefully we can make quick work of that, because the last thing we need is more complications.
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
Wibbly wobbly, timey whimey
We arrived at the Caverns of Time just a short while ago. Soridormi greeted us on arrival, and I let her take the rest of the group on the tour of the place while I made a lemon squares delivery. Like I mentioned, the big guy really loves his pastry, to the point that he actually has a couple of personal bakers right here in-house. Turns out Nozdormu was still off somewhere busy, so I dropped by the bakery to leave the goodies with his bakers, and figured while I was there, what the hell, I might as well leave them a copy of the recipe. Maybe win a few bonus points that way. I wound up hanging out with them there while I waited for everyone to get back. Not sure what to make of those two. I mean, they seemed happy enough to take the recipe, and one of them, Tom, seemed really cool. Awesome guy. Can totally see him being the kind of dude that everybody loves. Colin, though…I don’t know, he just seemed like kind of a dick.
Anyway, after everyone was done having a look around the place, Nozdormu came out to see us. Eventually. I’ve heard that’s kind of his pattern. Even after the tour, he took his sweet time showing up. So we were just stuck sitting there a while, me and Mokvar going through his notes to catch Liadrin up, and meanwhile Dontrag and Utvoch (yes, I brought them, it never hurts to have a couple low-grade flunkies around for the heavy lifting) managed to kill some time flipping coins. In which, by the way, it looked like Utvoch really took Dontrag to the cleaners. Or maybe the other way around. I still have trouble keeping them straight sometimes.
Anyway, eventually Nozdormu got his scaly ass out to see us. You should have seen the way he breezed on in. First of all, I swear somebody started cranking out smoke right before he showed up, and then, when he finally came strolling on in through the fog, he did some kind of time distortion thing that made everything seem like it had slowed down to half speed. And so here he comes, pimping on in through the smoke, in slow motion. Gotta admit, it was pretty fucking cool.
Anyway, Thrall had already given Nozdormu – or, as I like to call him, The Noz – a brief rundown of the situation, and Faranell and I filled in some more of the details for him. He mostly just nodded knowingly in that way he always does, kind of floating somewhere halfway between really cool and really annoying. Eventually he said he could probably help us out, provided we could stick to a few rules. I told him that shouldn’t be problem, because if there’s one thing yours truly is all about, it’s discipline and self-control. He just kind of stared at me a little when I said that. Not sure what the deal was there. But yeah, so he filled out the picture for us, and…you know what, why am I yammering away paraphrasing this? Mokvar was there. Here, I’ll have him hook us up:
NOZDORMU: As it happens, we have a time portal already established to Hillsbrad in the era you’re speaking of, so it shouldn’t be hard at all to send you there.
GARROSH: Well that’s convenient I guess. Would you not be able to open a new portal if you didn’t have one running already?
NOZDORMU: That would be…more problematic. We of the bronze dragonflight still have dominion over the timeways, and can travel along the pathways of time, but since the defeat of Deathwing, my ability to manipulate those timeways enough to open new time portals is…limited.
GARROSH: I was wondering about that, actually. Like how does that work with you guys? I would have figured losing your Aspect powers would have put this place out of business.
NOZDORMU: Not quite so simple. It’s true, we former Aspects expended our ancient power in order to charge the Dragon Soul, and we are now diminished, as compared to what we were. Mortal now, most notably…
GARROSH: Actually, if Deathwing and, you know, Malygos were any indication, you guys were sort of always mortal…
NOZDORMU: Well that’s different.
GARROSH: How is it different?
NOZDORMU: Malygos and Neltharion were killed in battle. Without the intervention of their slayers they would have carried on as immortals for eternity.
GARROSH: So, they were immortal as long as somebody didn’t kill them. Gotta say, that’s a pretty loose definition of “immortal.”
NOZDORMU: Did you really come here to argue semantics with a millennia-old, Titan-appointed caretaker of reality, just before asking him to do you a favor?
GARROSH: I know, I know. Just sayin’.
NOZDORMU: Where did that expression come from, incidentally? “Just sayin’.” If you say something insulting or presumptuous, how does tacking “Just sayin’” on the end of it make it any less insulting?
GARROSH: Okay, okay, you’re immortal, fine. Well, were.
NOZDORMU: Nevertheless, each of the flights holds dominion over one of the primal forces of the world, and even without our Aspect empowerment, the flights maintain those bonds. Ysera and the green dragonflight, for instance, continue their attunement to the Emerald Dream, just as the red dragonflight maintain their stewardship of life. Likewise, we bronze dragons are able to travel through time, and I personally retain my heightened perception of temporality.
GARROSH: What about Kalecgos?
NOZDORMU: What about him?
GARROSH: Well, he was the Aspect of Magic, right?
NOZDORMU: For about a week.
GARROSH: Well, still.
NOZDORMU: I don’t know. I guess he can still…well… He probably still knows a few card tricks, I guess.
GARROSH: Oh.
NOZDORMU: I’m not sure, though.
GARROSH: Ah, okay.
NOZDORMU: Yeah.
Garrosh, Faranell, and Liadrin exchange awkward looks.
GARROSH: So about the Hillsbrad thing.
NOZDORMU: Oh yes, that. As I was saying. We have a portal already established to Hillsbrad circa a decade ago, so it would be simple enough to send you through. I can further assign Chronormu—
Chromie, a bronze dragon assuming the form of a female gnome, teleports in and bounces happily next to Nozdormu.
CHROMIE: Hiya!
NOZDORMU: —to check in on you on occasion, to be sure there aren’t any unforeseen complications.
GARROSH: Wait, she’s a dragon? And what do you mean, complications?
CHROMIE: Yup, that’s me!
NOZDORMU: Yes, she’s one of the bronze flight. I suppose you haven’t met—
CHROMIE: Oh sure we ha—
NOZDORMU: I mean he. Hasn’t met you.
CHROMIE: Ohhhh, right, skipper. <making a zipping motion across her mouth> Sshhh!
GARROSH: Should…I be worried about something here?
FARANELL: I probably would have been worried long before this, but that’s just me.
CHROMIE: Ohhh don’t you fret over little ol’ me. I don’t bite. At least not in this form! <giggles>
GARROSH: Speaking of which, do you really have to be a gnome?
CHROMIE: Why? What’s wrong with gnomes?
Mokvar, Faranell, Dontrag, and Utvoch all utter overlapping groans.
MOKVAR: Oh boy, here we go.
DONTRAG: What’s wrong with gnomes, she says…
FARANELL: Even I know better than to…yeah…
UTVOCH: We’re going to be here a while, aren’t we?
MOKVAR: Every day with the gnomes…
LIADRIN: <to Faranell> Um, what did Lor’themar drag me into?
FARANELL: Give it a little time, really. It seems weird at first, but after a little while it actually becomes kind of fun.
DONTRAG: If he’s going to start in on the gnomes, you want to toss a few more coins?
UTVOCH: Yeah, no thanks, eighty-nine straight losses is enough for me in one day.
GARROSH: Okay, okay, will you people SHUT UP?
NOZDORMU: If one of my progeny taking the guise of a gnome is really that distasteful to you, I suppose I could appoint someone else, although I must say Chromie is one of my very best operatives, and…
CHROMIE: Thanks, gramps!
GARROSH: Yeah, okay, it’s fine. I’m not thrilled about the gnome thing, but whatever, I’m a professional. I’ll rise above it.
UTVOCH: Most inconceivable of you, sir—
GARROSH: <smacks Utvoch> We’ve been through this before about you and that word.
UTVOCH: Sorry, sir…
GARROSH: Okay, so fine, your little pipsqueak friend can be our contact.
CHROMIE: Woot!
GARROSH: But what was that thing about complications?
NOZDORMU: Well, Warchief, time is, after all, a rather complex and delicate thing, and one must be rather cautious when traversing its pathways. A certain, shall we say, delicacy and finesse is called for.
GARROSH: Dude, I am all about the fucking finesse. Right, guys?
Crickets.
NOZDORMU: At…any rate. You must simply take care not to interfere with past events more than is absolutely necessary. Speaking generally, you should not underestimate the potential impact of seemingly minor actions. You cannot imagine the magnitude of the consequences that can unfold from even a minor alteration in the timeline. More specifically, you will be traveling to a time and place that witnessed certain crucial events that cannot be disrupted…
GARROSH: Yeah, okay, that shouldn’t be a problem, this is 90% a fact-finding mission anyway, so…
NOZDORMU: So you say, and I do not doubt your intentions. But you must take care not to do anything that might interfere with certain key events playing out as they were meant to. Specifically, for one, the forging of the Ashbringer. You will be witnessing the fulcrum of an intricate convergence of events, which cannot be disturbed. The crystal carried by the eldest Mograine represents the spark which sets in motion events that must occur; this cannot be undermined.
GARROSH: Okay, check. No smashy-smashy on the crystal. Anything else?
NOZDORMU: One other matter. The reason, in fact, that this particular time portal was opened in the first place. You will be arriving at the moment in history when a young Thrall escapes from his human captors in Durnholde Keep. It is the singular event without which the Horde as it now exists…would not.
GARROSH: Wait, I get why that’s an event we can’t fuck around with, but why would you have opened a portal there if it’s so important that nobody interfere with it?
NOZDORMU: Because someone already did.
GARROSH: The what you say?
MOKVAR: I swear these time loop stories make my head hurt.
NOZDORMU: Agents of the Infinite Dragonflight had attempted to prevent Thrall’s escape, in order to…well, suffice to say, they sought to alter the timeline to ill effect. Some time ago, the bronze flight in my absence elicited the aid of a group of adventurers to travel back to this point in history and ensure that events played out as they should.
GARROSH: Okay…but, in that case, you already have people there keeping tabs on things, right? And they succeeded. We’re all here, and the Horde’s still here, so Thrall escaped and the world didn’t go kablooey or whatever, so your people did their job there and it’s a done deal, isn’t it?
NOZDORMU: It won’t be when you’re there. Those events are past to us, yes. And they have happened – now. But when you step through the portal, they will be as real and present to you as this conversation is now.
MOKVAR: Yeah, see, I really should have brought some aspirin.
GARROSH: I mean, yeah, I get that we’ll be seeing things happening live and in person. But if we’re sitting here having this conversation, that means whatever we end up doing there DOESN’T change anything, right? I mean, say you send me to the past. It’s still the past. So if I DID accidentally change things, wouldn’t we already know?
NOZDORMU: Except the actions you take in old Hillsbrad aren’t only the past. They are also, from our point of view in this moment, your future. Those events remain unchanged, until you actually change them. And only then do the ripples spread to the present.
LIADRIN: This is actually kind of fascinating.
NOZDORMU: Have you ever experienced déjà vu, Garrosh? Or had a memory that was so vivid and real to you, even though you knew, objectively knew for a fact, that the events didn’t happen the way you so clearly remember them?
GARROSH: Well, yeah, I guess…
NOZDORMU: That’s time rewriting itself. It happens all around us, constantly, in countless tiny ways we never notice except the cracks that flicker in the corners of our eyes. Well, you don’t notice. It’s all I ever see.
CHROMIE: Here we go, skipper, time for your favorite speech!
NOZDORMU: It’s what all of my flight sees, really; I simply have the most sensitive perception. When I look at you, Garrosh, I don’t just see you as you are now. I see everything you’ve done, everything you might do, everything you must do. They’re all written in your face, every minute, and with every choice you make, some of the endless possibilities reshape themselves, others melt away… Every single one of you here, accompanied constantly by an army of past and possible selves. Almost as if there were a thousand of you standing right here before me, Garrosh.
MOKVAR: Don’t let Garona hear that, can you imagine—
GARROSH: If you finish that sentence, I will END you.
LIADRIN: I’m…missing a lot of context for you people, aren’t I?
FARANELL: Don’t worry about it too much. I’m still pretty new, too. You catch up fast.
DONTRAG: Ohhh, I get it, you mean about how Garona’s been trying to—
UTVOCH: SHUT IT, nobody cares about her rolling an alt.
FARANELL: For instance, they’re idiots.
LIADRIN: Well yes, I gathered that much.
GARROSH: ANYWAY.
DONTRAG: No, not her alt, I mean—
GARROSH: <pummel>
DONTRAG: OWW!!
GARROSH: So okay, I think I get it. Past events can always change, time revises itself right out from under us when they do, but some events have to stay put. So say, like with what you were saying about looking at me and seeing my past and future… Like say next Tuesday I’m going to slip on a banana peel, but me falling on my ass sets off some other events that are really important, so even if you want to, you can’t be like “Hey Garrosh, watch out for the banana peel.” Because there’s some stuff in my future that HAS to happen.
Nozdormu stares at Garrosh somberly for a moment.
NOZDORMU: I think you grasp the basic idea, yes.
GARROSH: Oh so hey, is that why everybody’s just accepting how eventually you HAVE to go Murozond on us and cause all that trouble with the Infinite Dragonflight yourself?
NOZDORMU: Hey, listen, if you want to start poring over people’s misguided futures, I can—
CHROMIE: Whoa, whoa, cool down a little, boss! Ix-nay on the iege-say, right?
NOZDORMU: Ahem. Yes, yes, of course.
GARROSH: Umm, the hell was that shit about?
NOZDORMU: Hmm. One moment.
Nozdormu closes his eyes and takes on an expression of intense focus.
.tnemom enO .mmH :UMRODZON
?tuoba tihs taht saw lleh eht ,mmU :HSORRAG
.esruoc fo ,sey ,seY .mehA :UMRODZON
?thgir ,yas-egei eht no yan-xI !ssob ,elttil a nwod looc ,aohw, aohW :EIMORHC
—nac I ,serutuf dediugsim s’elpoep revo gnirop trats ot tnaw uoy fi ,netsil ,yeH :UMRODZON
?flesruoy thgilfnogarD etinifnI eht htiw elbuort lla esuac dna su no dnozoruM og ot EVAH uoy yllautneve woh gnitpecca tsuj s’ydobyreve yhw taht si ,yeh os hO :HSORRAG
GARROSH: Oh so hey, is that why everybody’s just accepting how eventually you HAVE to go Murozond on us and cause all that trouble with the Infinite Dragonflight yourself?
NOZDORMU: Yes, basically.
CHROMIE: Whew. That’s better.
NOZDORMU: Much.
CHROMIE: Why dodge a bullet when you can wind it back into the chamber, right?
NOZDORMU: Indeed.
GARROSH: Uh, what are you two babbling about?
NOZDORMU: Oh, nothing you need concern yourself with. Shall we start making preparations for you to begin your mission? There are a few small specifics we’ll need to go over.
GARROSH: Yeah, sure… Hey, actually, did I ask you that thing about Murozond before?
NOZDORMU: No, I don’t think so.
GARROSH: Huh, weird. Déjà vu.
We’re getting ourselves set to take the trip shortly. Mostly making sure we have any supplies we might need, getting a general briefing on what we’re allowed to “know” and “not know” if we talk to anyone in the other timeframe, all that fun stuff. Also, to make sure we blend in, The Noz says when we go through the portal we’ll be affected by a glamour that will make us look like we’re human. Not exactly a pleasant thought, but I can see why it’s necessary. Still, I hope whatever human form I get ends up being a LITTLE palatable. I don’t want to go literally strolling down memory lane looking like an asshole.
YOUR WARCHIEF IS A GENIUS
Not that you guys didn’t already know that, but you know what, I’m going to repeat it, BECAUSE IT BEARS REPEATING.
YOUR WARCHIEF IS A FUCKING GENIUS.
Why, you ask? YOU MEAN YOU CAN’T THINK OF THREE OR FOUR REASONS OFF THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD? Okay, fine, maybe you just suffered head trauma or something, or you’re Dontrag or Utvoch, so I guess I can let it slide. Just this once. Anyway, I suppose I should explain what I’ve come up with.
So, you know how we’re trying to figure out a solution to the whole anti-plague thing in Southshore, and how we tracked it back to that meeting Tirion had with his other Silver Hand people, and that dark crystal that they turned light and used to make the Ashbringer with…only, that lead wound up being a dead end, literally, since Tirion’s the only one who was there at the time who isn’t dead now? Well check out this flash of brilliance – yeah, sure, those people are all dead NOW, but they weren’t ALWAYS dead, right? And I know what you’re thinking, “Uh, yeah, Garrosh, that’s the way dead works, people don’t start off dead, they come out the gate not being dead, not being dead, not being dead, still not dead, not dead yet, OH FUCK now they’re dead, the end.” Well SHUT UP and LET ME FINISH. Fucking hell, you and your damned interruptions. Point is, we can’t go question people like Isilien and Doan NOW because they’re dead, but who says we can’t just go track them down at some point when they WEREN’T dead? Because guess what, it just so happens I have an in with some people – loosely speaking – who know a thing or two about time travel.
Yup, that’s right. I’ve already contacted Thrall, and as we speak he’s talking to his old Deathwing-slaying buddy Nozdormu, and so as soon as we get the details squared away, I’ll be rounding up a team and heading down to the Caverns of Time.
GARROSH, YOU GENIUS, YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN.
Anyway…while Thrall finishes making nice, I’m going to get a jump on prepping for the trip. I’ve only met Nozdormu the one time myself, and I didn’t really get to talk to him so much, so I might want to be ready to make nice myself when I get down there. I’ve heard he’s got a real sweet tooth when it comes to pastry, so I’m thinking I might get Marogg to whip up a batch of Greatmother’s lemon squares. Anything to grease the wheels, you know?
More updates soon. Don’t be surprised if the next time you hear from me, it’s from Tanaris.
[Header image provided by regular reader and commenter ZugZug, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Monday mailbag
Before I get to the mail, I just wanted to mention the results are in for this latest round of You Choose the Next EPIC VERSE. I’m working on the latest masterpiece now and I’m going to try to have it posted this week, so stay tuned!
Now for the letters. Just a semi-quick mailbag this week, but a couple doozies…
About a month ago A Concerned Citizen wrote in to complain about the mistreatment of a Hippogryph he had received by post. Unfortunately, I don’t think this was an isolated incident — in fact, there may be a serious problem. Last week I received a similar crate in the mail. There were postmarks from at least 20 different places and it must have been in transit for weeks. The crate was emitting a terrible stench, but I braced myself and pryed it open anyway. As I feared, the poor wyvern was long deceased, its corpse in an advanced state of decay. It was the most appalling and enraging thing I have ever had the misfortune to see first hand. I cannot imagine the suffering of that poor creature as it was shunted from one place to another.
I stood stunned for a moment in shock and horror, (and was seriously considering joining DEHTA myself), when suddenly the most amazing thing happened — I felt something nuzzle my hand. I nearly jumped out of my skin! It was then that I realised there WAS something in that crate! A ghostly wyvern stood in the box, so translucent to be nearly invisible. Thing is, despite being incorporeal he can still interact with the physical world to some extent, so he can be petted, confined to a padlock, and even ridden just like a normal wyvern! I’m not sure how this is possible, but I think it might be because the poor beast doesn’t realise he’s dead. (For instance, he still likes me to feed him wyvern chow. He doesn’t actually consume it, but he makes eating motions around it and seems satisfied afterward. To save on gold I found a bunch of kibble-shaped rocks and put those in his dish and he doesn’t seem to have noticed the difference.) It’s taking a while to get used to flying around on a mount that is, for all practical intents and purposes, invisible. However, it sure is fun to watch all the jaws dropping as I fly by!
But the reason I write you, Warchief, is that I don’t think this is an isolated incident. Over the past week I’ve seen other people seemingly flying around without a mount. It’s hard to tell for sure, but I think people all over Azeroth are receiving deceased mounts in the mail. I even think I caught a glimpse of a spectral gryphon flying past me yesterday! I’m not sure what’s going on, but if members of both the Horde and the Alliance are getting dead mounts delivered to them, perhaps there has been a severe breakdown in our postal service worldwide! I know that wyverns have a place in your heart, so I thought you might want to look into this matter and perhaps prevent the further suffering of these noble creatures.
Respectfully yours,
–Kashina.
PS: I’m attaching a photo of my poor deceased wyvern. I hope he shows up well enough on that background.
This…just…wow. I mean I know I was never on particularly good terms with old Antlers McBeardyface, but even for him, this is just…yeah, that’s just sick.
What’s just as bad is that APPARENTLY our old friend Lather-on-us up in DEHTA-land couldn’t be bothered to do anything about this, even after ACC’s original letter last month, but spirits forbid I make a passing reference to browsing in a store for a leather jacket, cause then I get a dozen granola-crunchy druids picketing outside Grommash Hold and starting letter-writing campaigns and throwing buckets of fucking blood at me.
But yeah, enough is enough with this shit. I still can’t figure out how these people got it into their heads that sending mounts in the mail was any kind of good idea, but whatever. It’s time to start cracking down. So for starters, effective immediately, I’m going to start tightening up security in all our wyvern breeding grounds. Overlord Cliffwalker’s been doing a good job clamping down on the Grimtotem up in Stonetalon, so I’ll see about him assigning some more patrols for the wyverns nests there, and I’m pretty sure we can shift some troops over to Highperch in Thousand Needles now that the Twilight’s Hammer isn’t nearly so active down there.
Meanwhile, obviously if we mean business doing something about some brainstorm sending dead wyverns and gryphons C.O.D., I figure we’re going to need a point person to coordinate things. So, consider yourself volunteered, Kashina. I’m appointing you Commissioner of Stop Being a Complete Douche-Tard. Grats. And yes, Antlers, we’re talking to you.
Recently I was doing some errands for the Violet Eye – sweeping ghosts out of the ruins of Karazhan and suchlike – when I killed a big ol’ demon and discovered he had your axe in his pockets. Do you want it back? What’s Prince Malchezaar doing with Gorehowl anyway?
Regards,
–Elder Ciaroscuro (not a Lunar Festival Elder)
Hoo boy. Here we go again.
Yeah, if you could send that back here, Ciaroscuro (and by the way that was a BASTARD to type), that would be great. There’s been some really weird magical bullshit going on with that axe for a while. I’ll try to explain what I can.
So after my father Grom killed Mannoroth, and lost his own life in the process, the explosion that burst out of Mannoroth’s body sent the axe flying and embedded the blade into the nearby rocks. It got flung into the rocks with so much force that even Mr. OMG I’M SO AWESOME LOOK AT ME Thrall apparently couldn’t pull it out, either that or it didn’t even occur to him to look around for it, either then OR when he went back to put up Grom’s memorial, because I can’t think of a third option as to why Thrall would ever FUCKING EVER come back without Grom’s axe.
Some point later, Malchezaar came to Azeroth and turned up in Demon Fall Canyon. None of the other lesser demons there had ever been able to yank to axe out of the rocks, and they generally kept their distance, seeing as having the axe that killed their head honcho right there was probably kind of creepy. But, Malchezaar figured it would be a pretty good trophy for him to pick up for that very reason, and so after some doing he managed to yank it out of the stone. Apparently, by the way, he made a big deal about the fact that he was the one that managed to pull the axe out, and how that was an omen that he was destined for greatness and to be king of the demons and what-have-you, and by the way THAT’S when he started calling himself PRINCE Malchezaar, pretentious fucker.
So anyway, he heads off to Karazhan to take up shop. Only that top level of Karazhan where he hung out was in some weird kind of pocket dimension thingy, like the very top of the tower was poking into someplace called Netherspace, sort of dipping into the Twisted Nether but not quite, or some weird shit like that. I’m not too clear on the nuts and bolts of it. But, point is, it’s this strange little pocket of time and space where…well…time and space don’t quite work the normal way. And that’s where we get into the deal with Gorehowl.
So, Malchezaar had Gorehowl, right? And at some point some Horde adventurers went in there and handed him his ass, and got Gorehowl from his body, and somehow or other it found its way back to Thrall, who gave it to me. So far so good. But every so often, the freaky bizarro zone up there kicks in, and sets off some kind of a time loop. So all of a sudden, Mechazzar is up and kicking again, and he’s got Gorehowl back on him, and what do you know, poof, wherever Gorehowl WAS, it’s not there anymore. Because it got time-loop-reset back up to Prince Fancypants up there in Karazhan.
I once tried to ask Nozdormu how this whole time loopy thing could even be possible, and he rambled on at like 90 miles an hour, and just shrugged and said “wibbly wobbly, timey whimy” and looked at me like I just asked why water was wet. So no help there.
So anyway…yeah. Every so often, the axe goes poof on me, and I end up having to send a group up to Karazhan to get it back again. Which, let me tell you, is a huge pain in the ass. I’m just dreading the day when Malchezaar’s little time loop thingy resets while I’m actually in the MIDDLE of battle somewhere, and have my damn axe vanish on me mid-swing. I have to remember to start bringing a backup, actually.
On a completely separate note, I just got my first application for the new Earth Online guild, <Warchief>. Let’s have a look at our new aspiring member…
Character Name:
£õk†årøgâr
Class and Level:
Stock Broker
Talent Spec (please discuss any unusual talent choices):
0/0/41 Execution/Advisory/Discretionary Was execution but fuck that shit u gots no power and kill nothing. vry misleading name, discertionary do it all
What do you enjoy most about your class?
money money money buy the best toys and other class beg 4 help n buffs
Previous guilds and why you left:
Scum of the Earth, guild leader give his girl all the phat lootz n she like cant play so drama killed that one
Something Wicked, kicked from this one dunno why
High Finance, cant take a fkn joke. long story.
Previous raiding experience:
yes
Any time restrictions that might affect your raid availability:
i haveto be in bed by 11
Um…okay.
Actually, no, not okay.
First of all, I’m going to try not to dwell on the crazy letters in his name, but…yeah. Look, dude, you’re really overestimating how hard I’m willing to work to contact you in-game or send you a guild invite. If I can’t just fucking TYPE your name, then the odds of me sending you a whisper or an invite or whatever drops way, way down. I don’t speak alt-code.
Also…um…
You know what, I’m not even going to try to go through point for point and break down the problems with this guy. Not even the retard leet-speak. Reading it once had made my head hurt enough as it is. So I’m just going to make an executive decision and say, oops, sorry, turns out our raids all START at 11:00, so I guess that rules us out. Good luck in your search…um…Guy Whose Asshat Name I’m Not Even Going to Try to Transliterate.
Mission accomplished
Let’s get right down to brass tacks – Deathwing is dead!
Good job, Horde, I definitely probably couldn’t have done it without you. Well, I could have, but it would have been a way bigger headache.
From what I hear, at the very end Deathwing managed to step it up from standard crazy to hoo-boy molten tentacly super-crazy, but Thrall and the Dragon Aspects (now emeritus) were able to supercharge the Dragon Soul and go all kablooey on his ass.
The former Aspects came to Orgrimmar yesterday to deliver a piece of Deathwing’s jaw as a trophy (although let’s be honest, they could probably give a piece of Deathwing’s jaw to everyone they meet individually and still have plenty left over for the Wyrmrest gift shop – have you SEEN that dude’s jaw?). Thrall wasn’t able to make it because of something or other he needed to go back to Nagrand for with Aggra, but it was still cool to meet Alexstrasza, Nozdormu, Kalecgos, and Ysera.
Maybe not so much Kalecgos, actually. He was kind of mopey and whiney the whole time (you could say he was BLUE – GET IT? HAHA I crack myself up sometimes). Apparently he only had like a week left on his Aspect probationary period. I guess he just missed logging enough hours on the job for his pension to kick in. Kinda sucks, but I guess that’s the risk you take when you apply for a funding-conditional job.
Alexstrasza seemed cool and all, once you get past her apparently shopping at the same Respect My Strength But Look at These! outlet that Sylvanas goes to, but I’m also wondering if she just has trouble controlling whatever hocus-pocus she has going on. At one point Eitrigg’s pet worg went up to her and rolled onto its side. Alexstrasza obliged and rubbed its belly a little. Now the worg’s pregnant. Way to not know you own strength there, Life-Binder.
Anyway, they tell me they’re all going into semi-retirement now, and really, after thousands of years on the job (well, other than Kalecgos, but we’ve already covered that) they’ve probably earned some down time. Also this way the chances are much lower that another one of them will eventually go crazy and make us have to kill them. Well, except for Nozdormu, where we’ve pretty much already established that the chance is like 100%. So it goes.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Monday, so I am told, Mailbag
Citizens of the Horde,
I am an orc of my word; some days ago I invited you to write to me with your thoughts and inquiries, and promised I would answer them as is customary in this space. Today I fulfill that promise.
I write to you from our outpost in Silithus, as I prepare to begin our movement into Ahn’Qiraj. Perhaps this exercise will be helpful in clearing my thoughts before the coming battle. Let us begin.
Have you read any good books lately?
–Tarrful, Orgrimmar
Sadly, my hectic schedule as acting Warchief does not allow me the leisure time to pursue recreational reading. Fortunately, I do make a point of conducting regular briefing sessions to ensure I am kept abreast of important and relevant information, to ensure that the absence of reading time has not caused me to miss something of import.
[Saurfang doesn’t read books. He stares them down until they give him the information he wants. –Mkvr., ed.]
Do you play Earth Online too? If so, what server are you on? What class do you play?
–Kalaban, Undercity
I’m afraid I don’t know what this “Earth Online” is that you speak of. By context, I would surmise it is some sort of diversion or recreational activity involving the internet. Sadly, my schedule already calls for me to spend too much time safeguarding the future of the Horde and saving the world from annihilation for me to invest much leisure time in such matters. Also, I am an adult.
If Thrall and Garrosh ever finished that duel they started back before the Northrend campaign, who do you think would win?
–Kulkesh, Razor Hill
I could not even venture a guess as to the outcome of a battle between two such mighty combatants; and moreover, I can only hope that such a wasteful conflict might never occur.
[If Thrall ever dueled Garrosh to completion, the winner would be Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
I must say, I was expecting these inquiries to revolve around matters of greater weight and import. Nevertheless, we carry on.
When the orcs began dabbling in necromancy, did you ever consider becoming a Warlock? I know you’re a pretty badass Warrior and all, but did you ever think it might be fun to have demon minions and dot people up?
–Davan Shadowspring, Silvermoon City
There was never a point when I was tempted to indulge in the fel magics of the warlocks. Indeed, I suspected even then that no good would come of my people’s dabbling in shadow magic. Moreover, I fail even to see the appeal of such practices; I find it much more honorable and rewarding to confront my enemy face-to-face in combat and best him hand-to-hand, rather than standing at a distance and resorting to trickery. There is a certain gravity and satisfaction to be found in feeling the weight and heft of a solid, reliable blade in one’s hands. And besides, I can assure you, if one is sufficiently proficient in the martial arts, one does not need a precarious spell to make one’s foes flee in fear.
[Damn, Saurfang almost beat me to the punch on this one: Every time a warlock makes someone run away in fear, he pays a royalty to Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
I’m glad to see someone in charge again in Orgrimmar who’s at least somewhat respectable. I would wish you well in your efforts, except that in this case that would probably entail you actually finding Garrosh, and honestly that would end up leading to more trouble than it would be worth. So, here’s wishing you a mixed bag that keeps you in your current position for a while.
–King Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
P.S. Sorry to hear your men were stuck in those underground tunnels on Alcaz Island. Those things are creepy as hell. For years, I had these bizarre recurring nightmares that I was stuck down there, and barely even knew myself. Freaky stuff…
While I remain thankful to you, King Varian, for the kindness you showed me in light of the loss of my son, I nevertheless cannot let such denigrations against our Warchief go unanswered. I may remind you, however much good will may exist between you and I personally, I am first and foremost unwaveringly loyal to the Horde, and Warchief Hellscream is its rightful leader. I am myself, indeed, merely a part of which the Horde is a larger whole; and you may no more speak ill of our leader with impunity from me than you might strike one’s face and not expect the hand to respond in kind. And so, as Warchief Hellscream might comment in his own inimitable manner, I would take this occasion to invite you, King Varian, to engage in an act of self-copulation.
If da Lich King’s horse be Invincible, how come I be seein’ it?
–Bob, Echo Isles
Vol’jin, I don’t know what it is that you’re trying to accomplish, or why you’ve chosen to adopt this puerile façade, but I would ask of you, please, recall your station. We are leaders of the Horde, and as such it is incumbent upon us to conduct ourselves with a modicum of maturity.
I know the Dragon Aspects have a lot on their plate these days, but considering the interest they have in Twilight’s Hammer activities, and the resources and information they have access to, have you considered reaching out to them for support in the search for Garrosh? Maybe have Thrall speak to them on your behalf?
–Zhurzigg, Orgrimmar
While it would indeed pain me to impose upon the hectic schedule of the Aspects, my time in Northrend did afford me the opportunity to develop a certain rapport with the Wyrmrest Accord. As a result, I was recently able to arrange a meeting with Nozdormu at the Caverns of Time. My original intention was to travel to Tanaris on the way to Silithus, but initial preparations detained me in Orgrimmar unexpectedly; fortunately Nozdormu was most gracious over my tardiness (in retrospect, I wonder if he knew in advance that I would be late, all things considered), and welcomed me for our discussion nonetheless.
[Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
Sadly, Nozdormu was able to uncover no leads that might help us pinpoint the location of the Warchief. His ability to delve into past events is, in fact, somewhat compromised by current activities of the Infinite Dragonflight, which is impeding the Aspects’ plan to retrieve the powerful Dragon Soul artifact from the past.
(As an aside, I must admit I would be tempted myself to volunteer for this mission, as it would entail the opportunity to witness first-hand some of the events of the War of the Ancients, in which my dear brother Broxigar had participated.)
[Contrary to popular belief, the Sundering did not happen because of the collapse of the Well of Eternity. The landmasses of the world heard that Saurfang was at the Well, and so the continents split apart in different directions to try to get as far away as possible. As it turns out, the Saurfang present at the Well was Broxigar, not Varok, but you can hardly blame the continents for erring on the side of safety. –Mkvr., ed.]
Nozdormu does still have the power to access the future, but this would appear to have limited usefulness for our purposes. He did suggest at one point that he might move us forward in time to such a point as Warchief Hellscream has been recovered, and then acquire from our future selves the relevant information as to how and where. This, however, struck me as a rather dubious solution; as I explained to the Aspect, in such a circular approach to problem-solving, the actual answers and information would not seem to actually come from anywhere, but rather be produced of whole cloth out of nothing. Nozdormu’s only response was to roll his eyes and, waving a hand about, mutter “Wibbly wobbly, timey whimey.”
The ways of the Aspects truly are a mystery.
One final note in closing: The one aspect of responding to your mail in this format that I do not particularly like is its relatively impersonal nature. Indeed, I wish to apologize to those of you who have written to me directly for not having replied directly in kind. When attempting to log into my “e-mail account,” the machine demanded I provide a password; apparently the device did not find the resulting cleave to be sufficient proof of my identity.
[When Saurfang…oh, wait, he’s already got this one covered. Good deal, boss. –Mkvr., ed.]
By all means, continue to write to me, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang
