Tag Archives: orgrimmar
Monday GUEST mailbag: Shayari
Okay, so as I promised, since everybody’s been all curious about Shayari, today’s your chance to hear from her directly. Let me kick it over to her and see what you people have come up with. And whether I’m going to have to go out and crack a few skulls later.
Hi everyone! I’m still not sure how Pops convinced me to do this. This whole blog thing seems kind of lame to me, but I guess it couldn’t be any worse than Twitter.
Let’s see what everyone has to say!
I have hesitated long to write this, since it may seem presumptuous of me, but I ask you to take it that I mean this with the greatest respect.
You can certainly deal with undesired advances (being your father’s daughter), I would simply caution you in response to desired advances. It is not my business, nor do I especially desire to know with whom you might choose to be intimate, but you may trust this- intimacy is dangerous, and one who desires yours may be a deceiver, a flatterer, or one seeking to take advantage of you for your father’s sake.
It happened to me (long ago), and I would not see it happen to you if I can spare you such pain.
Also, I know it may be natural to want to rebel against your father, but he does care for you, and as Warchief, he is in a delicate position. He must balance many competing burdens, and anything you (and we who follow him) can do to reduce those burdens will only help him.
My apologies for the lengthy missive, and I offer you such friendship as I can, and whatever help or advice as you may want (even none, if I seem too much like a meddling old aunt).
–Sintra E’Drien (and her mate Lyssa Nightblossom)
Ps. If you ever happen to visit Nagrand, you might wish to consider visiting Garrosh’s Greatmother- I understand she makes delicious lemon-squares.
So, hang on a second… I don’t even know who you are, and you’re… um… did you really just come out of nowhere and start giving me advice about who I hook up with?
Who are you again?
And I mean, okay, yeah, Greatmother Geyah’s lemon squares, I get it, I know, I’ve heard about the lemon squares, I’ve been in Orgrimmar a few months and for real, spirits help me, every day with the lemon squares. To hear Pops talk about them, I should maybe go hook up with a tray of them, because, you know. I’ll have what he’s having. So I get it. The lemon squares. Even though lime would totally be better, but sure, you go, Greatmom Geyah. Or I guess Great-Greatmom Geyah, in my case? Except I guess she’s not even Pops’ actual greatmother, so I’m not even really related to her, so it doesn’t really matter what call her, so whatevs.
Who are you again? For real.
I mean, trust me, when Pops reads this letter, I’m pretty sure that’s going to push the ol’ enrage timer a lot more than anything I do, and that’s really kind of saying something, because some days I actually work on it. There are diagrams and everything. (I can’t help it — he just gets so wound up! It’s a real hoot sometimes.)
I tried asking your father this recently, but I didn’t expect to get the chance to ask you directly! You always seem so fashionable, what are your favorite places to shop? Anywhere you would recommend?
–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City
P.S. What’s the real story on your father’s love life? Any juicy details you can share? He’s usually pretty vague and evasive about it. You must know the real scoop! Inquiring minds want to know!
Okay, for real, are all these letters going to be about who’s doing who? Because I did not sign up for this. If I wanted a non-stop parade of gross and creepy questions that I can never un-read, I would get an Ask.fm account.
Plus it’s not like Pops gives me updates on whatever groupie he’s doing whatever with, which is probably just as well, because ew. Not enough therapy in the world. The last thing I need to think of is old people doing it. How am I supposed to eat dinner with that in my head? Ew and double ew.
But, as far as the shopping goes, now you’re talking my language! My favorite shop by far was Threads of Fate back in Dalaran. I used to have a little part-time job helping tend the shop on weekends, mostly so I could get the employee discount, and believe me, I used that perk up. When I realized I needed to get out of town, I definitely made a point of packing up as many ToF things as I could right off. It’s pretty much off limits now, though. Obviously. Screw Jaina.
It’s funny you’re asking about this, actually, since you live in Silvermoon. That’s probably my favorite place to go now! There are a couple good shops in the Bazaar: Silvermoon Finery and Keelen’s Trustworthy Tailoring. Finery is the more upscale place. Pricey but really good stuff. Keelen’s has good clothes too (even if the name of the place is kind of lame), not as fancy, but you can find some really nice stuff there, too. Also much less expensive. Like really inexpensive. I’m not sure how they manage that, to be honest.
Oh, and there’s also Kodohide Leatherworkers down in the Drag in Orgrimmar. For leather goods, obviously. They have some pretty cool jackets and bags and a couple other things I won’t get into here because Pops is probably going to read it and why invite the yelling.
My name is Mirembe. I’m one of your dad’s trainees (I’m the one who’s never around, if that helps) and proud meat shield warrior! Anyway, onto my question, since if you’re anything like your dad, you don’t like long letters.
When I was hanging around Nagrand, killing ogres on Lazyeye’s command (Sorry Mr. Lantressor!), I ran into Drae Drann *all spelling attempts have been scribbled out hastily* Space Goat guy in a cage in Mr. Lantressor’s camp. At least, I think he was a Space Goat. He was kinda lumpy and tentacle-y, but in all the wrong places. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he was kinda really dumb! I may have smacked him with my shield to shut him up, but I think I smacked him a little too hard because he fell down. Who was that guy, anyway?
Aka’mogash,
–Mirembe
PS: If you’re in Orgrimmar, please please PLEASE let me know how Gurtash is doing! I heard about what happened in Blackrock Spire and I’ve been worrying myself sick over him, and the energy-bandage dudes keep telling me it’s because I’m fleshy. 🙁
Oh, hey, one of Pip’s friends. He’s doing…well, okay, I guess. I’m not a healer or anything. No real news. He’s still out cold and resting over near the tauren part of town. So I guess he’s stable, there haven’t been any new problems, just…not awake. I know Pops has been going over to check on him, and I’ve popped over a couple times, and there have been some others going over. So he’s not suffering from a lack of eyes on him. I guess we just have to wait it out and see.
How were things back in Nagrand? I haven’t been back there for a few years, but I grew up in Telaar. Have you visited there? Come to think of it, I guess you probably wouldn’t have been too welcome if you’re an orc. I mean, I’m half-orc and they didn’t always seem to thrilled too have me around, so…
But so, this lumpy draenei guy. That would be one of the Broken, by the way, one of the draenei who were all…physically screwed up when the planet went kablooey — most of the people in Telaar were Broken, along with a handful of garden variety draenei. So I guess this guy would have been one of them. I guess he could have been one of the Windyreed Lost Ones, too, but I don’t see why one of them would have been in a cage over in… oh. Oh! OH! I think I know who that was! You met Corki!
And damn, I’m sorry! You met Corki!
I mean, Corki’s a really sweet kid, but, spirits help me, he’s dense. Like not even just your plain old regular dense. Just… just… Let me put it this way. You know those Dontvoch and Untrag guys, or whoever? I’m pretty sure they could outsmart Corki. Like, either of them, individually, without even getting the benefit of rubbing their bumpy heads together to activate their Wonder Twins joint mind or whatever. I’m actually glad Corki’s okay, more or less, and not, like, dead from walking off the side of one of the cliffs around Telaar because he saw a butterfly or something.
I’m not surprised Corki’s still getting himself captured by ogres. It used to happen, like, every few weeks as long as I can remember. It was almost like a hobby for him. I felt so bad for his dad, Arechron — he would keep getting these ransom notes from the ogres and get stuck having to pay gold to get Corki back, and then a few days later Corki would up and get caught again. I know Pops complains sometimes about how expensive I can be, but that’s nothing compared to how much Corki cost poor Arechron in ransom fees.
Lok’tar, Daughter of Hellscream,
I would know: what is your favourite beast? If you wish to find one in the wilds, I believe the Mok’Nathal of the Blade’s Edge Mountains would be able to help you. You’d have to earn their respect first, though, and that wouldn’t be easy; believe me, I know.
Strength and Honour,
–Rexxar, Beastmaster and Champion of the Horde
Hi Rexxar! I’m pretty sure we’ve never met, but I remember hearing about you during the last months before I moved to Dalaran. Even though they steered clear of you, what with you being Horde and all, the hunters back in Telaar used to talk about you with a lot of respect. Way more than they had for that Nesingwary guy. I don’t think they ever really knew what to make of him. Anyway, say hi to Misha for me! I hear she’s a cutie. As 600-pound fur-bearing instruments of death go.
You know, I’m not sure what my favorite animal would be. I used to ride talbuks once in a while when I was younger, and they’re pretty, but not exactly snuggly. Since I’ve been in Orgrimmar, wyverns and worgs have grown on me a lot, actually. A worg could be pretty cool. Or a wyvern, but I almost feel like I already have one, with the way Mortimer follows me around sometimes.
I’ve always liked birds a lot, though. When I was a little girl, we found a baby windroc that had fallen from its mother’s nest. I took care of it for a while until it was strong enough to go back into the wild. And I have a pretty cool bird now, too! He’s a hyacinth macaw. I named him Kalec, because he’s flappy and blue and he parrots back whatever I say to him! I know that won’t mean much to you, but trust me, it’s going to go over like gangbusters with the Sunreavers.
So I guess I’m not sure. Keeping my options open for now, I guess?
What’s it like to have a complete loser for a dad?
–Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
Oh, hi, Varry. I think you might have sent this letter to the wrong place. Don’t worry, though, I’ll make sure it gets forwarded to Anduin.
6 − 6 × 6 = 0
Discuss!
–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery
No, no, Bobby, I think you got your equation mixed up. Here, let me fix it for you:
(your penis size) + (your IQ) × (number of times you’ve satisfied a woman) = 0
There! I hope that clears things up. Don’t be embarrassed, math is hard.
What a privilege it is to be able to contact you directly! I was sure I showed great enthusiasm in my letter to your father, and that our paths would cross one day, but I never did anticipate it leading to this, especially so quickly! I am honoured to have this opportunity, daughter of Hellscream.
Introductions! My name is Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker or, as I previously stated, Sarlin. I currently live at Hearthglen in the Western Plaguelands and, you’ll be pleased to hear, that the place has thrived with magic becoming less feared and more valuable! Not that it’s an invitation, of course. Merely a point that portals are always available at my beck and call, for a generous fee. I’ll be quite honest, while the Argent Crusade has the righteous reputation as the noble and faithful saviours of Azeroth we are, there hasn’t been a lot happening here lately. We normally just lounge around, chatting, drinking, fixing armour, staring at our weapons and keeping an eye on the towers. Although, rest assured, there’s always guards at the front gates and patrolling the Plaguelands, just in case we, you know, get run over by gnolls or something. Funny story, there were gnoll necromancers here some time back, and one of the magi (Lisp, I think his name was?) was actually providing them with tools to raise the dead. Now, he was thwarted by a certain orc warrior not long ago, and was rewarded by Highlord Fordring. Still, I feel like I was the ONLY one out of everybody in the Argent Crusade who was still sober enough to ask herself the question: “Why the fuck is he giving necromancy tools to GNOLLS!?” Gee, what next? Will murlocs start joining the Burning Legion? So, that’s the general idea of how things are being run these days. I won’t argue with the drinking. Sometimes, you really need it, too. Miss Daria L’Rayne is quite a fabulous partner to drink with, too. Although she has been drinking a lot lately. And when I see her, she seems exhausted. In fact, most of the time, when I go to talk to her, she puts her hand up over her ears and begs me to stop, and when I try to ask her what’s bothering her, she collapses in a heap, sobbing. Very unusual behaviour! I just can’t get to the bottom of why she would be so miserable and yet not be willing to talk about it. And, come to think of it, I don’t really see her sober at all anymore. Although, she is Tirion’s advisor and I don’t get to see her much for that reason. I guess it’s a full time job. I hope she’s alright.
Anyway, that’s beside the point. No, I mentioned a few things to your father on the topic of you, ah, fitting in. I can relate in more ways than one. I may be a Blood Elf, but I was raised by a Night Elf in Teldrassil. Sadly, like you, I was banished from the lush forests and placed into neutral territory. My dear Kal’dorei mother fell in battle not two years later, and I was brought back the Horde, left wandering foreign soil, confronting alien races and wondering where those weary, young feet would take me, if they could bear my weight. I know how it is, trying to find your own place. And, as you may have learned, Blood Elves are not exactly taken seriously by many of the other racial leaders. This is mostly down to our prissy regent-lord, Lor’Themar Theron. You know, ponytail, braid. Not a SINGLE hair out of place. That’s probably how he lost an eye, come to think of it. He was too busy fixing his hair to realize that there was a fucking invasion happening. Rest assured, many of the other Sin’dorei are more attributing, in more ways than one. We’re strong, lithe, quick on our feet, faithful and exceptionally skilled in magic. That is, if we know how to control our thirsts for it. But anyhow, I digress.
No, I just wondered of your exploits since you met your father and became Horde-affiliated. How you’ve been settling in. What troubles you’ve faced. Coming from Dalaran and being landed into dusty old Orgrimmar can’t have been fun, huh? Have you ever been to Silvermoon City? It’s so wonderful, here! I remember Liadrin used to spend most of her time in Farstrider Square, training the Blood Knights. She’s nice. And hey, the Tauren Chieftains are here, too! Which, really, I don’t care much for them. Personally, that Sig Nicious guy has more arm hair than he does brains, but who cares! They’re famous! And aside that, there’s a lush, golden forest out there as well.
Or, if you wanted to feel more at home, there’s always Mulgore. I find that it’s quite similar to Nagrand, in many ways. Although, be wary of the mountains. There are rumours of oversized cannibal critters with guns, chainsaws and the like up there. Probably just a story to keep young whippersnappers like US in our place. Pfft. Like I’m afraid of a rabbit with a gun. Still. They have been said to absorb sanity, which makes me wonder if they’re, you know, actually Old Gods in disguise. When in doubt, blame the Old Gods, amirite?
Hey, if you ever, like, wanted to hang out, just let me know! Trust me, I’m a lot more fun in person. I mean, not to soak up in sterotypes, but I can do AMAZING hairstyles. Oh, and my fashion sense? FABULOUS. I even made earrings with the Argent Crusade icon on them, just so everyone knows to withdraw the swords when I decide to stroll through the likes of Ironforge or whatever. That way, I don’t have a tabard flapping around and I can still look pretty good. Oh, and guess what I have! I met a bronze dragon a while ago (babbling idiot, kept talking about how we were all doomed by demons and shit like that) who handed me this package before departing. It’s called a S.E.L.F.I.E camera. You can take these things called “selfies” with it! Oh, and mine’s got a diamond on it, too. Or is it a cubic zirconia? Anyway.
I just have one last question. I, uh, spilled my inkwell. Ignore the smudges. How are you getting along with your father?
May the Light protect you, good magus, and all you hold most dear to you. I eagerly await your response.
–Sarlin
Wow.
Um.
Hang on, I’m going to grab some kafa and try to get through that again. I’m pretty sure I zoned out at some point on the first try. Somewhere around the part where oh my Light.
So, stand by.
Okay, here we go again with a little liquid fortitude. PSL FTW, right? (Honestly, if I’d known the Horde had Starbulls, I probably would have bailed on the Silver Covenant years ago.)
So… wow, Sarlin. That’s…that’s impressive. Yeah, I can’t imagine why that Daria girl drinks so much. She might have a problem and someone should probably try talking to her about and a propos of nothing does anyone know how diligent the bartenders are at the Broken Tusk about checking IDs? Just a random thought. Don’t mind me.
I guess I’ve been getting along with Pops pretty okay. It was kind of weird and awkward at first. He didn’t really come to see me a lot when I first got to Orgrimmar — that is, after he met me. When I first got to Orgrimmar, he wasn’t around, because he was off in Pandaria on business. I mostly spent time with Liadrin then. You’re right, she’s pretty cool. But then after Garry came back and Liadrin introduced me, I think he was mostly pretty shocked. I don’t think he really believed I was his daughter at first, and then he wanted to send me off to study at the Undercity. And I guess I get it, it was probably a lot to get dropped on him, and maybe he just needed some time to get used to the idea. Still, after the way things happened in Dalaran, I suppose I was kind of hoping he’d give me this big welcome and take me in like the people there never really did. Or the people back in Telaar, even. They didn’t really talk about me being half orc, but you could always kind of tell…well… yeah, anyway. So I guess the point is that I probably had this whole dream scenario in my head. Which was probably silly of me. You know, setting up for more disappointment.
Things have been better, though. I’m settled in again here in Orgrimmar, and just porting over to the UC for lessons. Pops cleared out a room upstairs in Grommash Hold for me to have, with this little balcony that overlooks the Valley of Strength. Oh and here’s the thing, about whether it’s been hard moving to Orgrimmar — I don’t really mind it. You have to remember, I grew up in Telaar, which is really just a poor village built around what’s left of some old draenei buildings. So it’s not like I was used to having luxurious surroundings. Don’t get me wrong, Dalaran was amazing, and I love Silvermoon, but Orgrimmar hasn’t been bad. It’s dustier than Nagrand, yeah, but it’s still sort of…familiar, I guess. Eventually it might even start to feel like home.
It could still seriously use a few coats of paint, though. And don’t even ask me what’s up with all the spikes all over everything, because really.
Hello, young Shayari,
I am Lantresor of the Blade, chieftain of the Burning Skull Ogre Clan and formerly part of the Burning Blade Orc Clan. Like you, I am the child of a draenei and an orc, but my parentage is in the reverse — my mother was the orc, my father the draenei. My question is this: do you know anything about my father? I myself know only that his name was D’Kaan, he was a hunter of sorts, he lived in the village of Telaar, just like you, and he was dead by the time I passed the tests to become a Blademaster. I have had no luck seeking information elsewhere.
Also, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say to you – I assure you that I know and understand many of the things you have gone through, having experienced them myself. Be brave, child of two worlds; you are not alone.
–Lantresor of the Blade
P.S. Whatever you may have heard to the contrary, I am not trying to pursuing you romantically! Even if I was interested, I would know better than to seek a relationship with a mage – too much potential to become scorched earth, I say.
I know, Lanny, I’m too hot for a lot of people to handle. It’s okay.
I remember hearing about you back in Telaar. I picked up the fact that there had been other half-draenei-half-orcs, but it wasn’t something anyone liked to talk about, or even acknowledge if they could help it. Your name came up a couple times. Mostly fearfully. I don’t know what you did to put the fear of the spirits into those people, but I’ll tell you, whatever it was, it worked. I don’t know if I know much about your father, although his name does sound familiar. I think it might have come up in passing when Arechron would talk about some of the weird plant-based life, like the sporelings, that developed in Zangarmarsh after the world shattered. He would talk about these other…well… plant people, basically, that used to exist. Botanical something-or-other, maybe? Anyway, Arechron would sometimes talk about the rangari hunters who used to fight them, and how if any of the hunters survived the shattering they would probably take an interest in what’s happened in Zangar. That’s when I think he would have mentioned D’Kaan, along with a few other hunter people like him.
I don’t know how much that helps. I hope you can find out more about him, though. I know what it’s like not to know much about your family. I’m still trying to find things out myself. I’m still getting to know my dad, obviously, and I get the sense that there’s a whole bunch of other family history I’m still not in on.
Speaking of family history, does Pops usually get stuck answering so much of this stuff? Like on a regular basis? No wonder he gets cranky with people sometimes.
Well, anyway, thanks for writing in, everyone, even if a lot of you seem kinda weird. I guess this is where I should wrap this up.
And I guess this is where I should start looking up addresses for people who need a personal talking to.
More soon.
[Obligatory reminder: The Warchief’s next mailbag is coming up in two weeks, on Monday, October 5. Send in your letters either by e-mail (link at the top of the right sidebar!) or using the form below. Possible other guest mailbags in the future — time will tell!]
The cost of doing business
So, some of you might remember the other day when Lantresor of the Blade wrote to me saying – among other things – that he was coming up to Orgrimmar to see about signing on with the Horde. Seemed like a pretty good deal, what with Lantresor being a major badass by all accounts, plus him being pretty much the head honcho of a clan of ogres. Which, yeah, maybe not the deepest thinkers in the world, but for real, have you seen some of the hired help I’ve already got on staff? I have Dontrag and Utvoch on payroll. I’ve got no business throwing stones.
Anyhow, I got Marogg the infantry chef to whip up a welcoming dinner for Lantresor and his crew, but we kind of overshot a little. See, when Lantresor sent his letter, he mentioned forming a new “Burning Skull” ogre clan, and wanting to sign on… then he said he got that Mogor ogre dude to port “us” to what I’m guessing was Ratchet (where, if epic limericks are to be believed, there once was a goblin from)… and that “we” would arrive in Grommash Hold soon.
And see, that’s great and all. Problem was, “us” and “we” didn’t give me much of an idea of how many people “us” and “we” were, and based on everything else Lantresor was saying, as far as I knew, dude was gonna roll up on Orgrimmar with his whole damn ogre clan. And seriously, have you ever tried feeding a bunch of ogres? Pro tip: don’t. Trust me. I’ve been to Brackenwall Village a bunch of times to see Draz’Zilb. You know why the place always looks so run down? Because motherfuckers don’t have time to fix shit when motherfuckers gotta spend their whole day scraping up enough food to cover their daily requirement of 20,000 calories a head. Including a bunch of dudes who’ve got more than one head.
Anyway, point is, I had some indeterminate-sized ogre contingent rolling on into town, and I knew I was going to have to FEED these stupid assholes, because, you know, I’m not going to be fucking RUDE. (Greatmother didn’t raise no ungracious hosts. My heretofore unboxed ears would not survive.) So I had to have Marogg err on the side of safety and crank out enough grub to feed a small army of ogres. Which… let me tell you, that’s not gonna be a fun line item to see in next month’s budget report. I might have to get some slaughterhouses up and running just to offset the dent this puts in the meat supply. Maybe in the Barrens. Seems like we’ve got some spare real estate out there. Anyhow, I digress.
Bottom line, Marogg pulled in a bunch of culinary personnel to help – I even got our ol’ pal Ji Lunchbox and some of his panda buddies chipping in on this – and managed to whip up enough eats to cover our bases. And so, who shows up?
Lantresor and Mogor.
The end. THAT was the fucking “we.” Lantresor and his double-headed, half-brained plus-fucking-one.
FUCKED OVER ONCE AGAIN BY AMBIGUOUS PRONOUN ANTECEDENTS. SEE? SEE? IMPRECISE GRAMMAR CAN COST A SMALL FORTUNE. STAY IN FUCKING SCHOOL, KIDS.
Um. I mean “fucking school” as in… like… you know… just school. Not school for fucking. Because for one thing, I mean, I get enough hate mail as it is, without advocating THAT certificate program. And for another, not for nothing, but it would be kind of a futile teaching exercise. Either you got it or you don’t. Sorry, nerds.
MOVING ON.
Anyway, point is, we massively overshot there, so, you know, if you happen to be in the Orgrimmar neck of the woods, and you like Kickin’ Chimaerok Chops, well, I’ve got leftovers. Like… a LOT of leftovers. Like make-the-week-after-Pilgrim’s-Bounty-look-like-fucking-NOTHING kind of leftovers. And the faster they get eaten, the sooner I can relieve the frost mages I’ve got on duty round the clock keeping the shit from spoiling. And MAN OH MAN, you can practically HEAR Ji high-tailing it over here with a fork and knife in hand, can’t you?
So where was I? Oh. Yeah. Lantresor.
So yeah, the initial meeting went pretty well. I don’t know if either of us knew what to make of the other at first, but after a little while we started exchanging stories about ways we’ve each messed with Jorin Deadeye, and that broke the ice right quick. We still have some odds and ends to work out, but it looks like Lantresor and his crew are going to come on board, which is only going to help shore up defenses on a bunch of different fronts. Plus, Lantresor apparently knows a handful of blademasters from the old Burning Blade clan who are still hiding out in Outland, and he seems pretty confident he could bring them over as well. So, a lot of potential win going on.
The only awkward part has been how Lantresor kept asking about Shayari. And, um, you know… after Khizzara turned on the warning lights on that one, just to be safe, I made sure Shay was out of town when Lantresor was due to arrive. By… well… sending her off on a shopping trip. Which… seemed like a decent enough idea at the time. Until she got home with a fucking kodo carrying the stuff she bought. Including the kodo. This one’s gonna leave a mark, I can tell.
Meanwhile, Lantresor keeps asking after Shay. I may just have to bite the cannonball and try to get Garona over here.
I’m getting too old for this shit.
More soon.
Divided Loyalties
Since I’ve been back in Orgrimmar, I’ve been kept so busy most days that I’ve hardly had time to stop, catch my breath, and really get back to the normal, mundane business of everyday life. It hasn’t just been the meetings with Garrosh, or the time spent in Ragefire Chasm with Overseer Elaglo or the Cleft of Shadow with Neeru. (Who hasn’t gotten any less coolly unsettling, by the way.) The biggest time sink has been getting my life back together in tangible terms. I suppose most people never need to worry about the practical ramifications of their own deaths, but believe me, when you’re exiled, then declared dead, getting all of that backtracked and your life out of mothballs is a giant pain. Honestly, I used to chuckle at Garrosh getting all irritable over paperwork and triplicate forms. Never again.
In retrospect, it’s a little ironic that Neeru mentioned the other day how unlikely he thought it would be for me to hide the Nether Prism at my house, where someone could break in and steal it. I don’t know if there’s anyplace in Orgrimmar that would have been MORE secure; at that point, my old place was still sealed up under Kor’kron security orders. Any rogue this side of Garona would have had an easier time stealthing into Orgrimmar than breaking into my place. After returning to town, I ended up spending more time cutting through red tape than anything else – getting my house unlocked, my old stuff pulled from storage and returned, my name removed from death records all over the place… Although, honestly, if the tax office wants to go on thinking I’m dead, I probably won’t complain about that one.
Still, all the time I’ve had to spend getting my life back together, combined with all the time spent meeting with the people I’ve needed to, means that until now I haven’t had much time to get caught up with some of the people I’ve wanted to.
JI: Oh… so… are we not having lunch?
SPAZZLE: Uh oh. Here we go…
MOKVAR: Lunch? Well, no, I hadn’t really… Are you hungry?
SPAZZLE: Wow, you really have been away for a long time.
JI: Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.
MOKVAR: Okay. Yeah, sorry, Ji.
JI: It’s just that I suppose I assumed, given the time you said to come over, that we would be having lunch…
MOKVAR: Right. But, no, Ji, I wasn’t thinking lunch. Just that we could sit back and have a few drinks and talk.
JI: Drinks are good!
MOKVAR: Okay, great. So why don’t you guys—
JI: I suppose it’s my mistake. I should have thought to eat earlier.
MOKVAR: Um… would you like me to get you something, Ji?
JI: Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a bother.
MOKVAR: Right. So…
JI: I could swear I smelled something cooking, though.
MOKVAR: Yeah… that’s, um, that’s some clefthoof stew I have simmering for dinner tonight.
SPAZZLE: You realize you’re just digging yourself deeper, right?
JI: Oh, I see… so it’s not ready yet?
MOKVAR: Well… it is, but… I mean, it’s one of those things where it gets better the longer you let it simmer. So I usually let it sit for most of the day, and…
JI: Oh, I’m not picky! It doesn’t have to be perfect.
SPAZZLE: Aaaaaaaand here we go.
MOKVAR: Would… you like some, Ji?
JI: Just a small helping, if you please.
MOKVAR: Um… okay. Why don’t you guys have a seat while I…yeah.
Mokvar retrieves a large pot from the hearth while Spazzle and Ji sit around a circular table.
SPAZZLE: <turning to look at side of his chair> Mokvar, what’s up with these stickers on your stuff?
Mokvar returns and sets a plate on the table before Ji.
MOKVAR: Oh, those? That’s from Kor’kron impoundment.
SPAZZLE: Yikes. How much did they take out of here?
MOKVAR: A lot.
Mokvar scoops a small ladle of stew onto Ji’s plate. Ji leans down to inspect the food a moment, then looks up at Mokvar quizzically.
Is… something wrong?
JI: Well, I did mean a little larger small helping.
MOKVAR: Well maybe it would save time if you just took the whole—
Ji snatches the pot from Mokvar happily.
JI: Thank you, Mokvar!
Ji starts ladling large scoops of stew onto his plate.
MOKVAR: <turning back to Spazzle> Did you want some, too, Spaz?
Ji looks up from the food with an expression of faint concern.
SPAZZLE: No, I’m good.
Ji beams and continues shoveling stew onto his plate.
MOKVAR: Anyway… yeah, they took most of the stuff out of here. Pretty much anything you could carry without needing a second set of hands.
SPAZZLE: Yikes. Your computer, too?
MOKVAR: Oh, man, that was the biggest headache to get back.
SPAZZLE: Did they go through your files? Or could you even tell?
Ji sets down the pot and ties a napkin around his neck.
MOKVAR: I don’t think so. <chuckles> My password lock showed something like five hundred failed attempts to log on.
Ji rubs his paws together, then starts to eat eagerly.
SPAZZLE: Eesh. You know, I’ll bet you anything Malkorok was beating his head against the wall on that one personally.
MOKVAR: Oh no doubt. That’s why I made a point of setting a password he’d never think to try.
SPAZZLE: Oh? What was it?
MOKVAR: “Malkorok.”
SPAZZLE: Ha!
JI: <mouth full of stew> Daff’s fweally thpart, Bokbar.
MOKVAR: Um…thanks. Need any salt, Ji?
JI: <back to eating> Doh tahk yew.
SPAZZLE: That was pretty clever, though. I bet it ticked him off something fierce not being able to crack it.
MOKVAR: I’m half surprised they didn’t bring you in to try to hack in. I’m sure you could have.
SPAZZLE: <shrugs> Who knows. I was probably under suspicion myself by that point. Speaking of which, actually…
Spazzle starts digging through his backpack, then produces a small totem of orcish design.
You gave me this. Back in Everlook. I know you probably don’t need it anymore, or even… well, you know, what with you not being a shaman anymore, but…
Spazzle hands the totem to Mokvar.
I figured it should come back to you either way.
MOKVAR: Thanks.
Mokvar looks at the totem in his hands for a moment, then carries it to the mantle over the hearth and sets it down. Ji looks up at what Mokvar is doing, then turns his attention back to ladling more stew onto his plate.
I don’t figure I’ll have much use for these anymore, yeah. Who knows, though, the way Elaglo and Xorenth are blurring the lines between shamans and warlocks.
SPAZZLE: With the dark shamans, you mean?
MOKVAR: Yeah.
SPAZZLE: What are they doing down there, anyway?
MOKVAR: Mostly working on improving their elemental command spells. They’re pretty much trying to maintain better control of summoned elementals, making it less of an “elements hear my prayer” and more of an “elements do my bidding.”
Mokvar walks back to the table.
SPAZZLE: Like the molten giants at Northwatch.
MOKVAR: Yeah, exactly.
Mokvar looks into the now-empty pot sitting on the table next to Ji, then looks to Ji himself.
All done?
JI: <looks down at his empty plate, then smiles> It was very good, thank you!
MOKVAR: Sure you won’t have any more?
JI: <looks at his plate again, then back up> Is there any more?
MOKVAR: No, there isn’t.
JI: I thought not.
MOKVAR: Yeah. So…
SPAZZLE: For what it’s worth, you’re getting off lighter than I did the last time Ji ate at my place.
MOKVAR: Why? What happened?
JI: Oh bother.
SPAZZLE: He got stuck in the door on his way out.
MOKVAR: You’re…kidding.
JI: It wasn’t my fault!
SPAZZLE: Well it all comes from eating too much.
JI: It all comes from not having front doors big enough!
SPAZZLE: Well, next time, you can host.
JI: I will!
MOKVAR: Well, anyway…
JI: What should I make?
SPAZZLE: Huh?
JI: When you come over.
SPAZZLE: I… we didn’t even really plan it.
JI: Well yes, but I like to plan what I’m cooking in advance!
SPAZZLE: I, um, I’m easy to please.
JI: I might need to go shopping, after all.
SPAZZLE: Really, Ji, you don’t need to make anything special on my account.
MOKVAR: Spaz.
JI: Oh, nonsense. You’re a guest. <thoughtfully> Now, there’s also the Pandaren Noodle Festival to think of…
SPAZZLE: The what?
MOKVAR: Spaz.
JI: Well I wouldn’t want to repeat something being served at the festival and seem lazy, after all…
SPAZZLE: No, really, anything you would make—
JI: You’re sure? I would hate for you to come all that way and not have something you enjoyed.
MOKVAR: Ji, I think what he means is that he’d like to be surprised.
SPAZZLE: Uh…
JI: Oh!
MOKVAR: That’s part of the fun of being a lunch guest…right, Spazzle?
JI: I like surprises!
SPAZZLE: Um… Oh. Yeah! Surprises. Yes sir, nothing more fun than…uh… surprise lunch. Yeah.
JI: Oh, this will be fun. I can try making— oh, oops, I almost spoiled it.
SPAZZLE: No spoilers!
JI: Yes, yes, silly me. I— wait, when are you coming over again?
SPAZZLE: Uh…
MOKVAR: That’s part of the surprise.
JI: <blinks> Oh.
SPAZZLE: Uh, right!
JI: Well I suppose that’s… <tilts head> I should have thought of that. How silly of me.
Mokvar slumps into a chair.
SPAZZLE: So hey, now that you’re working over there with those dark shaman guys, have you been able to find out how Garrosh managed to bring them on board?
MOKVAR: How do you mean?
SPAZZLE: You know, like after he shut them down when they were in Ragefire Chasm before.
JI: They used to be enemies?
SPAZZLE: It was before you got to town, Ji. But yeah. Rumors about them were flying all over the place, but no one ever really got any solid information. All anybody really knows is that we had expeditions going down into Ragefire for a while trying to shut down whatever they were doing.
JI: Oh. So now they’re on our side?
SPAZZLE: Apparently.
MOKVAR: Yeah. About that.
SPAZZLE: Uh oh. It’s never something good when people start like that.
MOKVAR: Yeah.
Mokvar sits quietly for a moment.
SPAZZLE: Oh geez. That bad, huh? What did Garrosh have to offer them to bring them over?
MOKVAR: It’s not that. They were always over.
SPAZZLE: The what you say?
JI: I’m confused.
SPAZZLE: Welcome to Orgrimmar.
MOKVAR: The dark shamans were always Kor’kron operatives. Even in the beginning, when it looked like they were renegades making trouble in RFC. The whole business about them being some rogue shaman group was just a front they were putting up.
SPAZZLE: They— but why?
MOKVAR: Plausible deniability, I guess? In case their dark shamanism angle turned bad? Meanwhile… the expeditions that were sent down there to “clean up” the problem were just… training exercises, pretty much. A way to weed out the weak – on both ends.
SPAZZLE: Wait – so Garrosh knew about this? He planned it?
MOKVAR: Big picture, it was his plan to build a force of dark shamans. How much he knew about the nuts and bolts… I don’t know. I’m guessing at least some of the job of making the trains run on time went to Malkorok, but… I don’t know. I’m still being kept in the dark about a lot of things. I probably know too much as it is. Hell, I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this much.
SPAZZLE: Gee, thanks.
MOKVAR: I don’t mean like that. Hell, Spaz, I wouldn’t…
Mokvar trails off, looking back at the extinguished totem on the mantle, then gestures to it as he turns back to Spazzle.
I wouldn’t have left that with you if I didn’t trust you. I just mean I’ve already dragged you into too much trouble as it is. I don’t want you to be stuck keeping more secrets again now.
SPAZZLE: Uh… yeah… About that…
Spazzle looks around uncomfortably, then stares at the floor for a moment.
<quietly> I’ve been talking to Vol’jin.
MOKVAR: You’ve… been…
SPAZZLE: A lot. For a few months now.
MOKVAR: Uh, Spaz, I know you’re a shaman and talk to ancestral spirits and all…
SPAZZLE: Well, in theory.
MOKVAR: Yeah, well, the point is, I didn’t realize that the spirits in question included trolls for you.
SPAZZLE: No, no, they don’t. I don’t mean I’m… Vol’jin’s alive.
MOKVAR: He— wha— how?
SPAZZLE: I actually blogged about this, you know.
MOKVAR: Yeah, sorry, that must have been during that period when I was sort of preoccupied with not being corpsecamped by spectral assassins.
SPAZZLE: Yeah, well. He’s alive. He’s recovering from injuries still in Pandaria, but he’s alive.
MOKVAR: Okay, so… Vol’jin’s alive, Jaina’s a warmonger, Garrosh has a half-draenei kid – what else did I miss? Is Utvoch dating Magatha? Did Alleria and Turalyon finally turn up? Did Grommash actually not drink the blood—
SPAZZLE: Well now you’re getting ridiculous.
MOKVAR: Well who knows at this point? How is Vol’jin alive? He survived the saurok attack after all?
SPAZZLE: It wasn’t a saurok attack. I mean, there were saurok, but… One of the Kor’kron tried to kill Vol’jin. Nearly did. He left him for dead, and Vol’jin’s had his supporters keeping up the lie that he is dead since then.
MOKVAR: Oh fel… And Garrosh…?
SPAZZLE: Doesn’t know. And he can’t find out.
MOKVAR: So… you mean he…?
SPAZZLE: Yeah.
MOKVAR: You’re sure? I don’t know why I’m even surprised, but… you’re sure?
SPAZZLE: The Kor’kron staged a takeover of the Echo Isles right after word of Vol’jin’s death broke.
MOKVAR: Spirits…
SPAZZLE: They had the place under military occupation until Thrall and a few others overthrew them.
MOKVAR: Does Garrosh know about this? I can’t imagine he does, otherwise – and I can’t believe I’m about to say this – I have to figure he would be in a much worse mood these days.
SPAZZLE: No, he doesn’t. Only a few people do.
MOKVAR: But how? I can see the Vol’jin thing being kept quiet, okay, but how could he not have found out about this?
SPAZZLE: There were still a few Kor’kron who trained under Saurfang, who are loyal to Thrall. Captain Gort, a few others… They’ve been reporting to Orgrimmar and maintaining the appearance that the occupation is still going on.
MOKVAR: Spaz… you have to know where this is heading.
SPAZZLE: <nods> I’ve been trying not to think about it.
MOKVAR: So you haven’t told Garrosh… Are you…?
SPAZZLE: <shakes his head> I haven’t been doing anything for them other than keeping quiet. I told Vol’jin before… I won’t work against him and Thrall, but I won’t betray Garrosh, either.
MOKVAR: You know if he finds out about this…
SPAZZLE: I know.
MOKVAR: Especially after… oh, man, Spaz, I’m sorry I dragged you into my whole mess. Both of you.
JI: You didn’t do anything. You’re a friend. You needed help. <shrugs> Anything else is just distraction.
SPAZZLE: Don’t worry about me, Mokvar. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is.
JI: <perking up> Wait, is there another plate?
SPAZZLE: Figuratively, Ji, figuratively…
VOICE: Well, there is…
A whooshing sound is heard, then, in the empty chair next to Mokvar, Deliana unstealths, holding a plate of what appears to be a few leftover bites of stew.
DELIANA: I had to move fast just to get a mouthful for myself before you inhaled it all.
Mokvar eyes a surprised Spazzle and Ji, then shrugs.
MOKVAR: What’s one more layer of compromise at this point, right?
SPAZZLE: Oh…man.
JI: Does Garrosh know she’s—?
MOKVAR: What do you think, Ji?
DELIANA: There aren’t exactly a lot of Alliance-looking types strolling around Orgrimmar unkilled.
JI: Well, that Shayari is a draenei…
DELIANA: Oh, don’t get me started on little miss fancy-hooves.
MOKVAR: You’re just mad because she turned you into a sheep.
DELIANA: Oh, good, annoy your security net. That’s a smart plan.
MOKVAR: I’m just saying.
SPAZZLE: So wait, how long have you been in Orgrimmar?
MOKVAR: Pretty much as long as I have.
DELIANA: I’ve had to sneak in and out a few times, but yeah.
SPAZZLE: What have you been doing?
DELIANA: Mostly giving Mokvar an extra set of eyes that no one knows is there. And some help on stand-by in case something goes bad.
MOKVAR: With everything that’s going on with the shamans, and Neeru, and… hell, I can’t even be sure Malkorok might not still try something at some point.
DELIANA: I can watch his back, and stealth around to check on things. And if nothing else, we know I don’t have anyone I have to answer to.
SPAZZLE: Yeah. You’re lucky that way.
Everyone sits quietly for a moment, looking back and forth between them.
MOKVAR: Well… whatever happens from here on, one way or another, I guess we’re all in it together now.
JI: Weren’t we always?
MOKVAR: You’re a good kid, Ji.
SPAZZLE: So… question is… what side are we on?
Mokvar looks back at Spazzle uneasily, then glances to Deliana. Spazzle exchanges looks with Mokvar and Ji, while Deliana leans forward against the table, drumming her fingers. Ji returns Spazzle’s glance, then turns to Mokvar and Deliana before looking back down at his plate. He considers the last bit of potato for a moment, then nudges the plate away from him and slumps back in his chair.
Mokvar
And your enemies closer
Well, time to add “guest” blogging to the list of things I’ve been picking up again for the first time in a long time. I’m not sure how regularly I’ll be able to post like this, or for that matter, how much Garrosh will even let me. From the look of it, he’s had Spazzle tighten up some of the permissions for my login, which is a little ominous, but then again, I don’t know how much I can blame him, in light of everything that’s gone on. It’s probably best just to get on with the task at hand and not worry about it too much. Things will work out the way they need to, eventually.
After I left that, um, somewhat tense meeting in Grommash Hold, I went to look for Overseer Elaglo in Ragefire Chasm. On my way through the Cleft of Shadow, though, I came across a familiar face who seemed more than a little surprised to see me…
MOKVAR: <leaning in entrance to hut> Neeru.
Neeru Fireblade looks up from a pile of scrolls.
NEERU: Well now.
Neeru sets a scroll down and leans back in his chair.
I would say you really do get around, but I suspect that would woefully understate the case.
MOKVAR: You have no idea.
NEERU: I think I do. I’d heard you were dead.
MOKVAR: I was. I’m better now.
NEERU: Highly debatable. Still… <eyes Mokvar carefully> I can see why your elemental spirits would finally have had done with you.
Mokvar shrugs. Neeru continues to stare at him with narrowing eyes.
Did you find it?
MOKVAR: <grins faintly> Find what?
NEERU: Don’t be coy with me, dammit. You came to me looking for information about the Prism last time, remember?
MOKVAR: I remember. Your leads checked out.
NEERU: You have it, then.
Mokvar looks back silently.
Oh, fel, stop trying to be cute. You’re not fooling anyone. Where is it?
MOKVAR: Somewhere safe.
NEERU: <narrowing his eyes> You wouldn’t just leave it back at that shack of a house of yours, where any petty thief could make off with it. Even you’re not so great a fool.
MOKVAR: My mother always did say I was fairly bright.
Neeru stands and walks around to Mokvar.
NEERU: You don’t have it on you, though.
MOKVAR: Maybe. Maybe not.
NEERU: You don’t. You’re not nervous at all.
MOKVAR: My threshold is a lot higher than it used to be.
NEERU: You might be fool enough – or arrogant enough – to stroll into the Cleft of Shadow with the Prism on you, but even you couldn’t be oblivious enough to do it without a twinge of anxiety.
MOKVAR: You just make me feel so welcome and at home here.
NEERU: This pocket of Orgrimmar is packed to capacity with warlocks who would happily kill a sibling for the chance to tinker with that relic for even an hour. And you know that. No, you’d at least be worried if you had it on you. So where?
MOKVAR: Like I said, somewhere safe.
NEERU: Dammit, Mokvar, it’s the blasted Nether Prism – there is nowhere safe for—
Neeru straightens.
What was that?
MOKVAR: What was what?
NEERU: I heard something.
Neeru looks around, then turns back to Mokvar.
You didn’t hear that?
MOKVAR: Hear what?
NEERU: There was a sound.
MOKVAR: There are lots of sounds.
NEERU: <narrowing eyes> What are you playing at?
MOKVAR: Me? Nothing. I’m just a guy saying hello on his way to a meeting.
Mokvar turns from the door and gestures behind him.
I can be on my way if you prefer.
NEERU: Hmm.
Neeru looks past Mokvar, following his gesture to the entrance of Ragefire Chasm.
There? What does that fool Hellscream have you doing now?
MOKVAR: Can’t say I know, myself. All I know is that he wants me to help Overseer Elaglo with something. I think Invoker Xorenth is involved too, somehow.
NEERU: Well, Xorenth is working with Elaglo, yes.
MOKVAR: You know him?
NEERU: <nods> He was part of my coven for a good many years. I don’t know if the “Invoker” title is still called for, though.
MOKVAR: Why’s that?
NEERU: You’ll see soon enough. He’s had something of a career change. Not unlike you, actually.
MOKVAR: How do you mean?
NEERU: He seems to have developed more shamanistic interests.
MOKVAR: Hmm. Well, my “career change” was the other way around, then.
NEERU: This time, yes. Who’s to say how long this one will last?
MOKVAR: Hopefully this will be the one that sticks.
NEERU: We can only hope. You can only keep playing both ends against the middle for so long before it ends up blowing up on you.
MOKVAR: I’m not playing anything against anything.
NEERU: Oh come now, Mokvar, you’re naive but not that naive. Of course you are. You went from being a warlock with pretensions of being a shaman to a shaman with delusions of being a warlock. A week with Xorenth laying out totems in front of you and you’ll start thinking maybe you’re clever enough to straddle the two a little more. Sooner or later, though, you’re going to need to figure out what you are and pick a side.
Mokvar and Neeru watch quietly while a team of peons carries several large crates into the cavern.
MOKVAR: Huh. Are they doing construction down there?
NEERU: <nods> It’s been going on for some months. See what you miss when you go all dead on us?
MOKVAR: I suppose there’d be some cleanup to do after those renegade dark shaman were stirring up trouble down there last year.
NEERU: Oh yes. Yes, they certainly caused all sorts of trouble.
MOKVAR: What are you grinning about?
NEERU: Again…you’ll see soon enough.
Mokvar shrugs.
MOKVAR: I should head down and see what this is about.
NEERU: In that case, I’ll let you be about your way. Don’t be a stranger, Mokvar.
MOKVAR: I’m sure I’ll be by again.
NEERU: Oh, and Mokvar?
MOKVAR: Hmm?
NEERU: Put your damned scribe paraphernalia away. People engaged in secretive, clandestine operations are rarely put at ease by strangers carrying note pads.
MOKVAR: Huh. Good point.
So…flying sans pen for a little bit. I left Neeru and went down into Ragefire Chasm to look for Overseer Elaglo. When I got there, he was…well…overseeing. Elaglo was hovering over a work crew that was doing some construction, reinforcing the cavern walls and installing what looked like the framework for gates in a couple places. When I approached Elaglo, though, he was cagey about what was going on down there, and clearly wanted to keep me within a very constricted area of the place.
Elaglo brought me to a side chamber of RFC where a group of shaman were practicing some sort of summoning ritual. They were being supervised by Xorenth – clearly no longer an invoker – and after I’d been there for a few minutes, they managed to summon up a small pack of lesser flame hounds, evidently straight from the Firelands. It turned out that that was one of the reasons that the two of them – Xorenth especially – had an interest in me: my recent experience navigating the Firelands, and the fact that I’d somehow managed not to lose my neck in the process. The other reason, which was less of a surprise than it would have been even a few hours earlier, was the fact that I’ve had experience as both a shaman and a warlock. Xorenth seemed intent on developing ways to blend a shaman’s invocation of the elements with a warlock’s powers of dominance and control. He didn’t need to talk very much about the undertaking before I started to see how they – Garrosh – envisioned me and, potentially, the Nether Prism entering into the equation. And it didn’t take long for the entire discussion to summon up memories of the attack on Northwatch Hold last year, when a group of Horde shaman summoned and controlled – briefly and forcibly – a handful of molten giants. Shaman – except dressed in the dark robes typically adopted by warlocks. Dark shaman.
It was a strange conversation. I got the distinct impression we were both testing each other, fencing verbally, each of us trying to see if he could get the other to divulge more information without doing the same himself. I can’t imagine that the training of dark shaman and the practicing of summoning rituals could be the entirety of what’s going on in RFC. Everyone had already seen what happened at Northwatch Hold, after all. The cat was out of the bag as soon as those giants started lumbering about.
I suppose I’ll just have to be patient. Garrosh wanted me working with these two, so I suppose I’ll find out more when I need to. I can’t say it’s not a little unnerving for everyone to suddenly be holding me at arm’s length and keeping me in the dark until they’re sure I can be trusted. But I have fences to mend and promises to keep, and there’s too much at stake for me to get it into my fool head that it’s beneath my dignity to have to prove myself again. I would be naive to expect otherwise. Just a matter of weeks ago, after all, I was an exile, and a wanted fugitive before that; I couldn’t reasonably have expected to walk back into Orgrimmar and just have the run of the place. Stroll around like nothing had ever happened. Welcome home. Open arms. Same old Mokvar, the guy everybody’s known for years. I would have been naive.
I have a feeling this is going to be complicated.
Mokvar
Keep your friends close
So I guess Spazzle already filled you guys in on the Gurtash thing. No new developments on that front so far. The healers say that the kid’s either going to come around on his own, or not come around at all, which personally I think is a big huge CYA measure on their part, but they’re the healers and I’m not so I guess I might as well give it a few more days before I start smacking people around.
In other news, I’m making some changes to Shayari’s mage training plan. She’s still going to be studying with Faranell over in the Undercity, but I decided that there wasn’t much need for her to LIVE over there permanently. For one, she IS a mage, so she can just teleport over where when she has lessons, and besides, based on recent experience…I mean…good fucking luck getting her to STAY there if she’s gotten it into her head that she doesn’t want to. It’s just easier this way.
So in related news, when I got in touch with Faranell about the revised plan for Shay, he decided it was a good time to hit me up with the estimate for whatever the hell he needs to have done to his jaw after Shay clocked him, or whatever the fuck happened. Then, as if all of this hadn’t put me in a great enough mood already, it just so happened that THAT’s the moment when the bill for that shopping trip Liadrin took Shay on came in, and HOLY FUCKING SHIT ARE YOU KIDDING ME. That hyacinth macaw of hers better fucking well shit GOLD, is all I’m saying. Are kids ALWAYS this expensive?! Fucking hell, this is going to clear out the bank in no time flat at this rate. Nice job, doeling. Yeesh.
Anyhow. In OTHER other news, now that Mokvar’s mostly accounted for himself, it’s time he got back on the job and made himself useful. Which as you can imagine made everyone in the war room pleased as punch. And by “punch” I mean “panda punching Varian in the fucking face”…
Because some shit just never gets old. Heh. Hehehehe…
Anyway. Yeah. Smiles all around for Mokvar’s return to Grommash Hold.
MALKOROK: Sir! With all due respect, you can’t be serious!
EITRIGG: You’re lifting the banishment?!
MALKOROK: You can’t possibly intend to allow this…this treasonous dog back into your council chamber!
MOKVAR: Uh, yeah, nice to see you guys, too.
EITRIGG: Garrosh, I don’t understand. After everything that happened with Mokvar, after his conspiring with Magatha, for spirits’ sake—
GARROSH: Look, I understand why you banished him while I was away, Eitrigg. I’m not lifting it now because it was the wrong call at the time. If I’d been here, I probably would have done the same thing myself.
EITRIGG: Then why, Garrosh?
MALKOROK: I’m not usually inclined to agree with the old man, Warchief, but once he’s right. Why would you restore this—
GARROSH: BECAUSE, you two, Mokvar’s managed to account for himself to my satisfaction, and—
MALKOROK: Sir, whatever lies this traitor has told you—
GARROSH: Are MINE to judge, Malkorok, not yours. I believe he’s telling me the truth.
Garrosh looks over at Mokvar, then back to Malkorok.
Enough of it, at least. Besides…I have good reason to believe that Mokvar has access to…certain resources that could be of great tactical benefit to us.
EITRIGG: Warchief…?
MALKOROK: I find it hard to believe he possesses anything that our forces—
GARROSH: You remember the Divine Bell, Malk? What a smashing success that whole grand finale was? Suffice to say, during his reintroduction to the warlock world, Mokvar found something that could have swung that whole fiasco in our favor.
Eitrigg slumps back in his chair uncomfortably. While Malkorok and Garrosh continue, Taktani bounces into the room, with Shayari following behind.
MALKOROK: Assuming he’s not making up the entire st—
GARROSH: <pointing back at his throne> DO YOU WANT TO SIT IN THIS CHAIR?
TAKTANI: <hopping onto the throne happily> Oooh, I do, Mr. Warchief! Yay! It looks comfy!
Garrosh looks back at Taktani, rubs his forehead, then turns back to Malkorok (who suddenly looks much more exhausted than he did just a moment ago).
GARROSH: Look, Malk. I’ve made my decision. And if you don’t think it’s the right one, then guess what? I’ve still made my decision, and I don’t want to hear any more about it. Mokvar’s banishment is lifted, and I’m reinstating him to scribe duties.
TAKTANI: <sprawling back on the throne and waving one paw around> I’m the Warchief-chief! Yay! Lemon squares or death! Hee hee!
GARROSH: Besides, would you really rather have HER staying on indefinitely?
MALKOROK: You…may have a point, sir.
TAKTANI: Aww don’t be grumpy, Mr. Malky! No grumpies allowed! <waving her paw around more> Off with his head! Tee hee!
GARROSH: TAK.
TAKTANI: Ooh! Okay! Right, Mr. Warchief, sir!
Taktani hops off the throne and bounces over to the council table.
GARROSH: Mokvar, this is Taktani. She’s been filling in for you while you’ve been away. Well, splitting time with… Uh, anyway, she’s been filling in as a scribe.
TAKTANI: <bouncing up onto the council table and leaning in close to Mokvar> Hiiiiii Mr. Mokvar! It’s nice to meet you!
GARROSH: She used to write in to the blog before you went AWOL, remember?
TAKTANI: I’ve heard so much about you, Mr. Mok-Mok! I’m sure the nice things are true!
MOKVAR: I— wait, you mean she’s real?
MALKOROK: Unfortunately.
TAKTANI: You’re so grumpy, Mr. Malky! I bet you just need a big hug!
MALKOROK: Don’t you dare even think of—
TAKTANI: Again!
MALKOROK: Warchief!
GARROSH: Rein it in, Tak.
MOKVAR: Okay, you know, she’s a little hyper for my tastes, but I think she’s starting to grow on me all the same.
SHAYARI: Chuckles really does bring out the best in people, doesn’t he?
GARROSH: Huh— oh, hey, Shay.
SHAYARI: Hey. <scanning the table> Hey, Beardy. Chuckles. Other Old Guy I Don’t Know.
GARROSH: Oh, yeah, you never met Eitrigg, did you?
SHAYARI: I think you mentioned him to me. But yeah.
GARROSH: He’s Ariok’s old man, if that helps any.
SHAYARI: Ohh, okay. So you’re kind of Grayscale Senior. I guess that makes you…what, sepia, sort of?
EITRIGG: …Warchief?
GARROSH: <sighs> Yeah, okay. So. Eitrigg, this is Shayari. She’s…my daughter.
Eitrigg stares blankly for a full minute.
TAKTANI: Mr. Warchief? Is Mr. Eatery okay?
GARROSH: Eitrigg?
EITRIGG: <blinks> I… I’m sorry, Garrosh. I think my brain might have just stroked off there for a moment. Did you just say…?
GARROSH: She’s my daughter. Yeah.
MALKOROK: Supposedly.
SHAYARI: I know, Chuckles, I’m too good for a lot of people to believe.
EITRIGG: <gesturing bewilderedly toward Shayari> But… but Warchief… how…?
GARROSH: Dude, do I really have to work it out for you?
SHAYARI: #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh, am I right?
EITRIGG: I…oh…well… <gathers himself, turns to Shayari> It’s a pleasure, Miss Shayari.
SHAYARI: Thanks, Grampa Sepia. Oh, and if your boy mentions anything about livestock, I don’t know anything about it.
MALKOROK: Warchief, is there a reason why your…offspring is barging in on our meeting?
TAKTANI: Aw, Mr. Malky, why can’t you be friendly? You should smile more!
MALKOROK: That’s enough from you, druid!
MOKVAR: Yeah. I definitely think I’m starting to like her.
SHAYARI: Oh, don’t sweat it, Tak. Guy Smiley here’s just pissy ’cause I’m a walking, talking reminder that Pops has gotten laid more recently than him.
TAKTANI: Huh?
MALKOROK: Draenei, I—
GARROSH: Malk, zip it.
MOKVAR: And I know I’m starting to like her.
GARROSH: Come to think of it, though, what ARE you doing here, Shay?
SHAYARI: I’m just checking to see how long Tak’s going to be busy with the meeting.
GARROSH: Uh, not long. It’s going to be a pretty short one today. Why?
SHAYARI: Nothing huge. When she’s done, I was going to port us up to Silvermoon to do some shopping. I can kill a little time, though. I’ll just be over at Kodohide’s, ’kay, Tak? I can check out the leather jackets while you do your thing.
TAKTANI: Okay! I’ll come find you!
GARROSH: Hang on – SHOPPING? We just moved like five huge cases of yours back from the Undercity. Don’t you have ENOUGH stuff?
SHAYARI: <walking toward the door> That’s cute, Pops. “Enough stuff.” You’re adorable. Later, Tak! Oh, and Chuckles?
Malkorok looks up.
Don’t forget: being a walking bag of hyena urine is something most people couldn’t carry off, but you, sir…are no exception. Toodles!
Shayari exits.
GARROSH: <rubbing his forehead> I can already tell I’m going to have to start making withdrawals from the bank, aren’t I…
MOKVAR: You know what? I’m going to skip right past “like” and say I’m starting to love her.
EITRIGG: She does have a certain infectious charm.
GARROSH: Okay, so…
TAKTANI: Should I start scribing now, Mr. Warchief?
GARROSH: Ah. Well, no, Tak. See, you were filling in for Mokvar, and he’s back now, so he’s going to be taking over again.
TAKTANI: Oh…
Taktani looks back and forth between Garrosh and Mokvar.
You don’t want me to be your scribe anymore?
Taktani makes big, sad kitty eyes.
Did I do bad?
GARROSH: Oh geez.
MALKOROK: <rubbing his forehead> Merciful spirits….
GARROSH: Ugh… Look, Tak, you—
MOKVAR: Garrosh?
GARROSH: Hmm?
MOKVAR: You know, while I get reacclimated, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to let her stay on for a little while, just to make sure I don’t miss anything in my notes.
Taktani’s face lights up, and she turns to Garrosh hopefully.
GARROSH: Oh for… Yeah. Fine. Whatever. You’re already here, so you might as well stick around for today anyway.
TAKTANI: YAY!!
MALKOROK: <glaring at Mokvar> Scribe, what in hellfire are you doing?
Taktani hops gleefully into a chair next to Malkorok. Mokvar tilts his head to one side, watching her, then smirks at Malkorok.
GARROSH: Okay…so, getting down to actual business, finally.
TAKTANI: Yay!
GARROSH: TAK.
TAKTANI: Oops! Sorry, Mr. Warchief sir!
Taktani makes an exaggerated zipping movement in front of her mouth, then stifles a giggle.
GARROSH: So. Moving on.
MALKOROK: Warchief, with your approval, I’d like to add a few additional patrols around the read gate.
GARROSH: Is there a problem?
MALKOROK: Just a precaution. I’ve gotten reports of some minor oddities around the Valley of Honor. I’d just like to make sure there isn’t anything to be concerned about.
GARROSH: Fine. Do what you need to do.
MALKOROK: Yes, sir.
GARROSH: Now for more important business. Mokvar, what’s our next step on your sha project?
EITRIGG: Garrosh…
MOKVAR: I’ll need to see some of these sha in person. This isn’t going to be exactly the same as dominating demons, so I’ll need to start small and work out the bugs.
GARROSH: Fine. I’ll be heading back to Pandaria in a couple weeks. You’ll come with me, and we’ll take it from there.
EITRIGG: Garrosh, I don’t like the sound of dabbling further with these sha—
GARROSH: Your objections are noted and inconsequential.
MOKVAR: That should work out. I have a few things I wanted to check on in Pandaria anyway.
GARROSH: In the meantime, I want you to check in with a few people as well, on a couple different fronts.
MOKVAR: What’s that?
GARROSH: For one, I want you to go see Overseer Elaglo. He and Xorenth are working on a few things down in Ragefire Chasm that I think you might be able to help with.
MOKVAR: Okay. What are they working on?
GARROSH: They’ll fill you in when you get down there. And while you’re down that way, I want you to touch base with Neeru Fireblade in the Cleft of Shadow.
MOKVAR: Uh… you want me to… why?
GARROSH: Because given what went down with him before you starting going all off-hinge, I think he’d be pretty damn interested in the fact that you’ve got yourself a new toy.
MOKVAR: Well, yeah, I’m sure he would, but I was figuring I’d probably be better off keeping CLEAR of him about that. Why even let him know I have the—
GARROSH: Because knowing will get his curiosity up. And you know what curiosity did to the cat.
Garrosh looks to a suddenly nervous-looking Taktani.
Not you, Tak.
Taktani lets out a relieved sigh while Garrosh turns back to Mokvar.
I doubt that he’s going to want to trust you, considering everything that’s gone on. But I’m betting curiosity about what you’ve been up to, and your shiny new doodad in particular, is going to be too much for him to resist. So I want you to dangle it in front of him, and see if you can get in good with him.
MOKVAR: <nodding slowly> And then I report back to you.
GARROSH: And then you report back to me. We know Neeru’s up to something, but so far he’s been careful. But YOU…well, what you bring to the table might mean just enough for his demonic interests to bring him out. I know we can’t trust him, so I want someone keeping him close.
MOKVAR: Got it. I’ll do what I can. When should I head over?
GARROSH: No time like the present. You might as well head over. I already told Elaglo and Xorenth you’d be by sometime today.
MOKVAR: Okay, chief. I’ll get the records written up and posted for you later today.
GARROSH: Yeah, that’s fine.
Mokvar gathers up his documents and walks toward the door.
<talking over one shoulder without turning around> And Mokvar.
Mokvar stops in the doorway and looks back.
It’s good to have you back.
Mokvar hasn’t gotten back from the Cleft of Shadow yet, but when he does, hopefully there’ll be some good news. In the meantime, I’m going to talk to Spazzle about putting some filters on the blog. Some posts, at least. It’s good having these records here, but we’re going to want to start limiting who can see certain information. You guys are all cool, don’t worry. But some of this stuff…yeah, we’re going to need to be a little more careful. Especially if things start lining up like I think.
More soon.
ADDENDUM FROM TAKTANI’S NOTES:
(Mr. Mokvar left.)
MALKOROK – Warchief, I still object to you trusting that scribe after his treasonous conduct. Especially with these kinds of sensitive matters.
GARROSH – Malk, do you not listen to any fucking thing that I say?
MALKOROK – Warchief?
GARROSH – Did you miss what I told him about keeping someone who can’t be trusted close, so we can keep an eye on him?
MALKOROK – No, sir, I heard you, but—
GARROSH – Did you think I was only talking about Fireblade?
(Malkorok became still a moment, thinking, then gave a slow nod.)
MALKOROK – Yes, sir. I think I understand. I…wouldn’t have thought of that, sir.
GARROSH – (nodding back) That’s why I’m in charge.
Spazzle Speaks: Prognosis
So hey, it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these. This seems like as good a time as any. And I guess the main thing to talk about is what’s on everybody’s mind these days: Gurtash.
Like you all probably gathered from the top of Garrosh’s mailbag from the other day, Gurtash made it to the healers okay. Well, not okay, but you know what I mean. Ji and I were able to keep him stable enough after we left Blackrock Spire to get him over to the shamans in the Valley of Wisdom. From that point, we were pretty much relegated to hovering around while the healers did their thing. Better them than me. They ended up working on him nonstop until Garrosh and the others made it back, and they kept at it off and on for a good long while after that.
So, there’s good news and bad news.
The good news is that the healers got Gurtash stabilized. It was dodgy for a while, but Gurtash survived. He’s resting now at a place at the edge of the Drag, just off the Valley of Wisdom, where the healers can check in on him easily enough.
The bad news is that he’s still unconscious, and there’s no telling how long he’ll be that way before he wakes up. If he wakes up. The swipe he took from that spectral assassin did some major damage… the shamans did everything they could to patch him up… but at this point they say it’s pretty much up to Gurtash. Either his body will finish healing on its own and he comes out of it, or…well, he doesn’t. So at this point, there’s not much left for any of us to do other than wait.
Garrosh has been going over to check on him pretty much from the minute he got back to Orgrimmar. When he first got the news about Gurtash’s condition, he…well, he was less than pleased about the…um…insufficient progress. I thought he was going to invoke some kind of loophole or technicality in that whole “if Gurtash dies, so do they” message he gave me for the healers, but he just yelled a while and then stormed off. When I went looking for him a little later, he was hanging around the Kor’kron stables. He’s been going there pretty often the last couple of days, in between checking on Gurtash and doing his usual work over at Grommash Hold. I’m not sure why. From what I can tell, he’s mostly just standing around in the stables, looking at this one wolf, one that a mailbag writer recently donated – Grimjaw, I think he name was. The wolf, I mean. Not the mailbag writer. You can never be sure with orc names, you know? Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure there’s a Sergeant Grimjaw working down at Razor Hill.
Anyway, I’m not sure what that’s about. I guess we all deal with things in our own ways. In the meantime, we’re all just sort of spinning our wheels while we wait. And maybe once in a while manage to go about our normal daily business and convince ourselves it’s still a normal day.
That’s all for now. If you ever need any—
Eh… Never mind.
Hopefully we’ll have some news soon.
Mak’gora, verbal style
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
GARROSH HELLSCREAM
VS.
THRALL
BEGIN!
GARROSH:
I got the Scourge under wraps, so this round won’t be postponed.
Good thing Blackmoore named you Thrall, ’cause you’re about to be owned.
“Green Jesus,” never wrong? You were never warrior-strong –
Now I’ll shove those beads around your neck back up where they belong.
Aedelas gave you training; Taretha gave you sympathy;
I won’t say what Jaina gave you, but it’s BoP.
You might as well call yourself human, how you were shaped and apprenticed;
All you need’s some beige paint and a trip to the dentist.
Your reign as Warchief was a joke, and you are as well:
Every time I hear your name, I Go’EL-OH-EL.
You left me picking up your mess, and then I watched you leave it:
You failed to serve the Horde – now I’ll crush you beneath it.
THRALL:
Too often since I went away I’ve heard tell of your crimes,
And I don’t know what disappoints me more: you or your rhymes.
I led the orcs from enslavement to the land we inhabit;
I only made one mistake – and I’m looking at it.
You’re not worthy of your line, you’re twisted as an ampersand;
You’re rhymes are weak and I won’t cheer, but I might give you a big hand.
You’ll keep losing your supporters and the lands you used to hold;
From your mailbag to your reign, you just keep on getting trolled.
So when they finally lead you off bound with chains and rope,
Where you’re going, drop some rhymes – but watch you don’t drop the soap.
I was blind to your crimes, but now you’ve gone past the line;
Now it’s time you finally answered—
[Thrall hurls the Doomhammer at Garrosh; before it reaches him, though, Orgrim Doomhammer leaps in and catches it.]
ORGRIM:
Yeah, I think this is mine.
Step aside for a real Warchief; challenge me, you’re going to lose.
You might wear my battle armor, but you could never fill my shoes.
Blackhand left our people pinned under Gul’dan’s thumb;
I showed a race enslaved that they could overcome;
I thought that you were fated to hold fast what we created,
But the going got unstable, and the unstable abdicated.
You made a half-assed call not knowing what the pros and cons were;
You played Frankenstein, then washed your hands of your monster.
And you now, Orcish Karloff – you plagued our kind like a pox,
And locked away our people’s hopes inside a heart-shaped box.
We both tried to tear an Anduin limb from unskilled limb,
Only mine was an adult – and I actually killed him.
Your challenge was a waste of time; you should have withdrawn it,
’Cause I own you both like the city that’s got my name written on it.
[The wall behind them crumbles to reveal a makeshift Dark Portal, through which Blackhand emerges.]
BLACKHAND:
You people must be joking; now you might as well bounce,
Because you’re never trounce the one and only Warchief who counts.
The first to be crowned, rhyming fury unbound;
I built a mighty war machine – you ran it into the ground.
Well I’m back – I was the first, the best to rally orcish masses,
Now I’ll T.H. White Once-and-Future on your asses.
I’m unimpressed, Orgrim, with the rhymes you’ve busted.
Now I’ll correct my one mistake: thinking you could be trusted.
Our bond was iron, loyalty withstanding any test;
Your oath was what a noob picks through on an Outland quest.
So bring it on, Backstabber, and I’ll swat you right back;
You pose no threat; you’d better bet the pimp Hand is Black.
ORGRIM:
You want to take me on, Blackhand? You’d best hope for luck,
’Cause you only ever beat me in a timeline that sucks.
Lust for power kept you dreaming, so you were blind to Gul’dan’s scheming,
Then you followed Hellscream’s lead and sold us out to the demons.
You were Warchief in name, but power? Every last ounce’ll
Dribble down to you for show, straight from the Shadow Council.
It wasn’t till I took command that the First War was won—
BLACKHAND:
And then you led us to internment – yeah, nice work there, son.
THRALL:
We led the orcs back from the fall your madness brought on;
You may be Medivh’s king, but you were Gul’dan’s pawn.
You were a figurehead at best, with a fel employer;
It was only to your own kind that you were the Destroyer.
Oh, but since you mention sons, yours tried to demand
That he should rule, but he got his – by the Warchief’s command.
BLACKHAND:
Oh, look, the junior partner – sad you’re what would become of us;
No surprise, though; like your father, you were never really one of us.
Go play dress-up all you want; fish for praise but you won’t get it,
You just let others do the work and then swoop in to take the credit.
I earned my place as the greatest, and that glory will last—
GARROSH:
At least till Metzen gets another retcon hair up his ass…
BLACKHAND:
Yes, let’s get to you, pox boy, we’ll finish this quickly.
You’ve got rhymes like your childhood: rejected and sickly.
You couldn’t even finish this sad son of Durotan’s –
You should have Bane’d his back in half when you had the chance.
Captain Hammer here’s weak, but he still brought you ruination—
GARROSH:
That’s only ’cause I didn’t gem plot armor penetration.
Now you two old-school has-beens, watch your legacies unravel;
You’re done and gone (except for maybe FUCKING TIME TRAVEL).
My line is stuff of legends; your alias is famed –
They must have thought you’re Tom Riddle, ’cause you couldn’t be named.
I own my every call, each choice a notch in my own belt;
You couldn’t be more of a puppet if they’d made you out of felt.
I’m triumphant and a hero! I’ve slain humans, drakes, and liches!
I ride a wyvern that’s more badass than any of you bitches!
The greatest Warchief of them all, from the last to the first –
Epic mount, epic name, epic life, EPIC VERSE!
WHO WON?
WHO’S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE!
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
[A quick two-part programming note: First, keep those suggestions coming! While they will no longer be a regular weekly feature (because, whew, these are hard to write on a tight schedule!), I may still sprinkle them into the blog now and again, if these great suggestions keep coming in and people seem to be enjoying them.
Second — I’ve decided to push Garrosh’s next mailbag from this coming Monday to the following Monday (May 11), to allow the blog’s “main storyline” events to reach a point where the mailbag will seem less forced. After this month, we’ll be back to our normal schedule of a mailbag the first Monday of each month. Keep those letters coming!]