Tag Archives: spazzle

Monday mailbag

[Running more than a bit behind on getting some Photoshop work done, and I can’t rightly leave everyone hanging for TOO long! So here, let’s let Garrosh dip back into the ol’ mailbag briefly… (And for any timeline/continuity sticklers out there — of which, admittedly, I’m one — let’s say he queued this up just before departing for his current excursion…)]

Okay, people, you know how this works, so let’s get right to it…

 

Dear Warchief,

I know I have not posted or commented much lately, but I have preferred to sit quietly in the background and focus on the tasks you have set, followed as always by my faithful bodyguard (long story short, my fiance demands I have a bodyguard after some incidents that happened during my pregnancy and the birth of my daughter).

However, Selarcis (of the Sunfires, in case you know of him), my bodyguard, left some… ah.. interesting paperwork lying around.

It appears as though he has been trying to calculate my protection as offered by the formula you provided.

I know the entire calculation was meant to show how the “lack” of armor on a female (or male, for that matter), calculates into nudity factor and to-hit ratio… but I am a Priestess, and therefore I tend to keep myself quite covered. It is rare that I show much more than my midriff and my arms, if that.

Is there some kind of separate calculation for cloth-wearers, or does this formula also work?

I’m sure Selarcis will wind up seeing this, and if he does, I’m sure I’m going to hear the lecture of a lifetime… He’s the engineer, not me (I’m just a simple seamstress and enchantress), but I’m wondering if he’s going about this all wrong.

The answer he came up with was:

∆h=140.1333/3.826 * (87*93)^2

… then there are notes saying Bo and e are “1-100”, and a lot of scribbles, and then, an answer, circled, of 2397732809.

Apart from the questions on how he got my measurements (other than the ones that I use to personally craft robes and dresses for myself), I don’t understand exactly what any of this means.

Again, I’m not an engineer of any kind, and well.. he is.
Again, is this just the calculation for plate-armor, or does this also apply to cloth, leather, and mail?

… What exactly do Bo and e stand for? Where did he get my Nudity Index? (I assume that’s what the St/Sc he has here are for, going back and reading your equation and notes again…) I mean, it’s not like he hasn’t seen me … I mean… as traveling partners and both of us healers, we have no secrets and no modesty around each other… but the numbers.. I just don’t understand where they came from…

Could you shed some light on any of this?

Briyanna Solari Soleilin

I… oh great. See? See? This is what happens when I try laying some science on you people. I blog one simple little equation that quantifies how distracted a would-be attacker becomes due to leering at the skin you’re blood-elvishly showing off with your choice of non-armor, and somebody just had to go and make it weird. So, okay, here we go.

So, first, these calculations apply to any armor type. Plate, mail, whatever. I’m getting a clothie vibe from you, Briyanna, but I could be wrong. Either way, it doesn’t factor into the equation. The Focus Distortion Field doesn’t care what kind of armor you’re not-wearing so long as you’re, you know, not wearing it. Not wearing plate doesn’t protect you any better than not wearing cloth.

Next, as far as the actual numbers your bodyguard came up with… You’ve got me there. See, I know ABOUT this equation and I understand the basic premise, but I’ve never tried to sit down and crunch actual numbers. Seeing as, you know, I actually have a life and friends and shit. Luckily, though, I just so happen to have access to a dude who DOESN’T have those things so much, and is usually pretty good with this kind of dorky stuff. So let me kick it over to him for a minute. You might know him.

Hey, what’s up? Spazzle here! I wasn’t expecting to get back into a mailbag again so soon, but I guess Garrosh had a technical question from a letter, so…

Um…

Yipes. I’m looking it over now, and, um… this thing’s kind of all over the place. So I mean… Well, you take the Nudity Index part, and he has you down for (140.1333 / 3.826), which is supposed to be the ratio of total body surface area to surface area concealed, and… I mean, I’m not even sure how you could have landed a 3.826 for your coverage. That’s really low. Like low even for AQ trash drops kind of low. Are you really walking around wearing… um…? Yikes. Or… well, I guess it could be thrown off depending on what units of measurement he was using… see, the formula was originally designed to work with square inches, although there’s also a variation that adjusts for a base-10 system of measurements, but you can end up with a few wonky problems depending on how many decimal places of accuracy you want. But then if your guy there got a wild hair up his keister and decided to try doing this with the Zinkowski system, hoo boy, because now you’ve got to account for four-dimensional permutations over a continuum, which gives you a wider scope of coverage but introduces a whole quantum aspect to the whole thing. And so if he’s going that then I can see why your denominator is trending toward pi, because…

I’d just like to step in here and point out that, faced with an almost-naked blood elf, dude here is zeroed in on algebra or whatever.

Nerd.

Hey, you asked me to field this one!

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

Well, the point is that I’m not sure what’s going on with those first couple of figures… but the real mystery is the Bo2 and es values, because he has to be doing something wonky with those. There’s no way the BOOTEE-squared value should be that big. Like… the notes she mentioned about the Bo2 and es being based on a 1-100 range would give a result that’s orders of magnitude off from what it should be, seeing as those figures are supposed to be built on a limit of 10 with logarithmic curvature… So I don’t know, maybe he’s deliberately way way overshooting Eugene’s limit as a way to convey how exponentially gorgeous she is, even beyond computational laws? That’s the best I can do on that one…

Yeah, so, I guess this is the part where I answer that part of your question, Briyanna. Because, see, Bo2 — “body observational optimality” — and es — “exhibitional enticement” — are pretty much measures of, well, hotness. You know that old saying, “Flaunt it if you’ve got it?” Well, think of those two as a measure of how much you’ve got it and how well you flaunt it. So apparently your guy there has you rated as an 87 and 93 on those accounts. Which, like Pea Pod was saying, goes way beyond the normal values of Bo2 and es, so either you bodyguard has decided that on a scale of 1 to 10, you’re a fucking 87, or someone gave him some REALLY bad intel on how this calculation works. Either that, or he’s kind of not too bright. At all. Even remotely. Like we’d have to be talking Dontrag-and-Utvochically severe levels of not smart. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.

But that kind of brings us to your other question, about how he got your Nudity Index. Because like Spazzle was saying, he worked that out based on actual NUMBERS that measure your total “surface area” — translation: every last literal inch of your body — and how much of that surface area you actually keep covered up. Which apparently isn’t a whole lot. So, you know, go you. Point is, though, he had those figures down to a VERY high level of accuracy, which means he had to be making some VERY detailed measurements of your, um, measurements. And so when you combine the EXTREMELY close attention he’s been paying to your bod — unknown to you, apparently — with the crazy inflated hotness scores he’s been giving you for this thing, well, what I’m telling you, Briyanna, is it looks like your “bodyguard” wants to be doing more with your body than guarding.

So, maybe this is a surprise to you, since your letter kind of gives me the sense that he hasn’t done anything to let on that he’s been checking you out. Which, I mean, I don’t really know what to tell you about that, seeing as I don’t have a whole lot of experience with having my eyes on a woman but not being able to pull the trigger and DO something about it. Usually I barely need to do anything myself, because, you know, #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh. Luckily, though, I just so happen to have access to a dude who DOES probably have a fair amount of expertise in being all awkward and dateless and just hovering around in the background when there’s a girl he likes and whoa-is-me’ing about how she never picks up on any of the clear signals he’s not at all sending in lieu of coming right out and doing something, so let me kick it over to him for a minute.

Um. That means you’re up again, dude.

Wait, that was supposed to be me?

Who the hell else would I have been talking about?

Geez, boss, way to make me look good…

Hey, look, you are what you are.

True enough, Warchief, though I would hasten to point out that, in light of current events, you might do well not to alienate all of your remaining supporters.

Wait, what the hell? Oh, don’t fucking tell me…

Yes indeed, Warchief, it is I, Lady Sylvanas Windrunner. I try as best I can to keep an eye on the goings-on on your ever-entertaining and oft-illuminating blog, and in this instance I felt compelled to step in and offer constructive comment.

By hacking into the blog. Again.

Not something that should surprise you, given that, as you rightly point out, this is hardly my first virtual visit, as it were.

Even though my supposed tech expert said he’d changed the password and locked the site down.

Oh man, here we go again…

Oh, was I supposed to be maintaining the pretense that I’d been locked out? I must have lost track of that. Silly me.

You know, I really want to know how you became such an expert in hacking. The firewall I set up was no joke.

You would be amazed by the skills one acquires when one no longer needs to lose several hours daily to the need for sleep.

You mean like what happens with Rook when she’s had six or seven gallons of Starbulls in one sitting?

I’m not sure I know who that is, Warchief.

One of his trainees, I think.

Oh. Is that the orc boy you’ve mentioned? I do recall there being a protege of sorts of whom you appeared to have grown rather fond.

No, that’s Gurtash. I was talking about… you know what? Never mind.

If you wish, sir. In any case, in this particular instance, I can’t claim to have hacked into the blog quite the same way as I have in the past.

How the hell are you here, then?

There’s an app for it.

The what you say?

Oh man. I can already tell this is going to be bad…

An app. For my Eye Pad of Kilrogg. A handy little device, I must say. You might consider picking one up for yourself, Warchief, for those times when you’re not in your throne room.

Uh… yeah.

It really does come in handy, boss, I have to say.

Oh for fuck’s sake, ANOTHER one?

Oh, hey, is that you, Mokvar?

Yeah, it’s me. Hey Spaz.

Ah, a pleasure to see you, Mokvar, albeit digitally. I trust the Eye Pad is working well?

Yeah, it’s been great so far.

Holy crap, Mok, you’re actually stepping up your tech into the Third Age?

Don’t you start. But yeah, it’s turning out to be a lot handier than I would have figured.

So hang on, you mean Sylvanas hooked you up with one of these… whatever-the-fuck-they-are’s, and now I’ve got YOU sticking your nose into the blog editor with it TOO?

Well, to be fair, boss, I did already have access. Remember you had Spazzle set me up to post my own entries.

Oh, yeah, I forgot how you do that sometimes.

You’re still not reading what we write, huh?

You mean you write stuff, too?

Asked and answered, Spaz.

Your capacity to cultivate loyalty among your followers truly does inspire, Warchief. Little wonder you enjoy such unanimous support among the Horde leadership.

Said the woman who’s HACKING INTO MY BLOG with an APP that’s apparently ready-made to let her do that, and who the hell even puts something like that together, anyway?

I’m not sure who coded it, though it seems like something that would be a goblin endeavor.

Hey, racist much? Whose side are you on?!

What a curious question for you to pose, Spazzle, considering.

Oh felgercarb, ixnay on the onflicted-loyalty-cay!

Is that some kind of goblin lingo or something?

Still better than when he starts writing in binary.

Wow, he really does that? He needs to get out more.

Oh, geez, thanks.

UM.

Well, hey, Spaz, you… wait a minute.

Well this is curious.

WAIT A MINUTE INDEED.

Hey, Pops. Try not to blow a gasket or something.

Oh for fuck’s sake. YOU TOO?

Oh boy… this is just setting up more and more work for me…

Don’t act all weirded out, Pops. You’re the one who kept trying to get me to take an interest in your dorky blog.

Yeah well I didn’t think you were going to join the goddamn HACK PARADE.

Is that who I think it is?

WHAT DO YOU THINK

Shayari?

The one and only!

I don’t fucking believe this shit.

Oh, my, this is the daughter I’ve heard so much about? I haven’t had the pleasure.

Hey, nice to meet you. Who are you again?

Can we maybe focus a little less on social hour and a little more on HOW THE HELL EVERYONE IS GETTING INTO MY BLOG TODAY

Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, at your service. Shayari, isn’t it?

Yep, that’s me.

And you hush, Pops.

WHAT THE

Well well, she is a little firecracker, isn’t she?

And I had no idea you fancied such colorful terms of endearment, Warchief. “Pops” indeed!

Oh don’t YOU start too, Sylvanas.

Oh, hush now, Pops.

I mean Warchief.

*giggle*

^_^

I think I’m going to maybe log off and step a safe distance away from the pad.

Yeah, I might follow your lead there, Mok.

OH NO YOU DON’T, Pea Pod. You’re keeping your ass right here until you fix the damn blog so EVERY LAST MOTHERFUCKER UNDER THE SUN can’t just stick their nose in at will!

Right, boss. On it.

Strictly speaking, Garrosh, I’m more underground than under the sun.

YOU KNOW WHAT I FUCKING WELL MEAN, LIVING DEAD GIRL

At any rate, Shayari, I assume you’ve picked up the Crowbar app as well?

Yup, I downloaded it after Pops had me fielding his mail that time.

Wait, what the hell are you even USING it on?

An Eye Pad of Kilrogg, of course. Duh, Pops.

Yes, Garrosh, duh.

Oh, actually, Shay — may I call you Shay? — if you have one of our delightful little tablets, does that mean you’ve been to my humble Undercity?

Oh, yeah, I port over all the time for mage lessons with Eddie.

With whom?

Faranell.

Oh. My, you do have a way of referring to people, don’t you?

I’m quite surprised, though. I had no idea the good doctor had any such extracurricular activities.

Actually, our activities are very curricular. Like literally.

I’m kind of surprised he volunteered for that job.

I think Liadrin talked him into it.

That must be why he approaches the job with such effusive enthusiasm, yeah.

Well, I don’t know how well the good doctor has been teaching you magic, Shayari, but I dare say you appear to have picked up his distinctive sarcasm.

Yeah, well, he better be getting the job done for what I’m paying him.

Oh, no, I pretty much had that going all along. The sarcasm, I mean.

Wait, you’re paying Edwin for this?

Sounds like an abomination to you, too, huh?

Oh, no, Warchief, I can say with some authority that abominations sound a fair bit different.

Well, maybe not that bad, but I just figured you would have treated an assignment like this as just one more part of his regular job.

Well, yeah, he DOES pretty much work for me anyway.

Strictly speaking, dear Warchief, I must say I believe I have the more immediate claim to the good doctor’s work hours.

Other than the part where I outrank you.

Well, yes, for the time being. You never know, though — I’m quite ambitious, and politics can be such a fickle affair!

Yeah, well, I wouldn’t hold your breath waiting to be Warchief.

I can’t imagine why not. Being as I am undead, I can hold my breath for an extraordinarily long time. Say, another two or three years?

Can we get back to the small matter of fucking EVERYONE I KNOW HACKING INTO MY GODDAMN BLOG?

I know, I know, I’m working on it…

Really, Pops, the app’s right there for anyone to grab from the Sunfruit store. It’s not our fault you’re only finding out about this now. Don’t blame the messenger.

She clearly hasn’t noticed the pile of dead messengers out behind the hold…

Oh for frak’s sake!

What?

Oh geez, you’re not going to believe this.

Uh oh.

Can you wait just a moment before saying it, Spazzle? For some reason I feel an urge to heat up some popcorn.

Oh, hey, good call. One popcorn pyroblast incoming…

Yeah, so…

Will you just fucking SPIT IT OUT already?

Don’t let him rush you, Spazzle. Popcorn’s almost done.

And YOU stay out of this!

^_^

So, okay, I just did a little digging on that Crowbar app. And it turns out, well… “Published by Blackfuse Software Division.”

Hoo boy.

!!!

Was that supposed to mean something to us?

Shh. I want to see if he does question marks next.

WHAT

THE LITERAL

FUCK

Not for anything, chief, but I told you that guy was nothing but trouble.

Fucking hell, how many more supposed ALLIES am I going to have fucking SCREWING ME OVER behind my BACK?!

Would “five” be too suspiciously specific?

What’s going on?

Helix Blackfuse is a contractor Garrosh hired.

Oh. Okay, so this is one of those boring office things.

I think I can file a complaint with Sunfruit to get the app pulled down, chief. I’ll have to change all the security settings, but it should limit the damage.

Hopefully.

Yeah, you do that. In the meantime, Mokvar, get your shit together, we’re paying Blackfuse a little visit.

On it, boss.

And see if you can grab Gurtash on the way over. He should be running drills out by the west rampart with the other trainees.

Won’t that be a little overkill?

No, I think there’s going to be exactly the right amount of kill.

If you say so, boss. You really think you’re going to need a transcript and a comic done, though?

I’m not bringing Gurtash to do a comic. I just want someone there with some artistic ability to draw the chalk outline.

Hey, uh, Dark Lady, would you happen to have any of that popcorn left?

Got it, boss.

Okay. We’ve got some ANNOYING AS ALWAYS BECAUSE WELCOME TO MY LIFE work to do.

Have fun, Pops.

Yeah, well, that means you people all need to be logging off of here. Or wait for Pea Pod to lock you out again. Whichever.

It’s adorable that you think so, I must say, sir.

JUST GET OFF OF HERE, for fuck’s sake.

If you say so, Pops. I should go over a few incantations anyway.

Speaking of which, Shay, the next time you’re in the Undercity, you simply must drop by the Royal Quarter. It would be a great pleasure to meet our esteemed Warchief’s next of kin in person.

Heading out now, boss. I’ll meet you in the war room.

Sure, I guess. I’m there a bunch of times every week.

Splendid. Apropos of nothing, by the way, what are your feelings on eternal youth?

Okay, people, let’s move it.

Well, I feel like, seeing as I’m half draenei, I’ve pretty much already got that covered.

I see you’ve inherited your father’s charming naivete.

MOVE IT, I said.

Ugh. Dammit, Spazzle, just pull the plug on everyone.

On it, chief.

 

There, that should do it. All the guest logins should be terminated. Nobody left except the admin accounts.

Sorry about all of this, chief. I’ll get it all locked down for serious this afternoon.

 

Chief?

 

Anybody home?

 

Garrosh?

 

 

Oh geez. Did I just… Hang on…

Oh frak.

<sigh> I’m gonna pay for this one tomorrow morning, I just know it.

Oh well. I guess… um… bye, everyone. Talk to you all soon, I guess?

 

 

 

Indeed. Talk to you all soon. ~_^

 

Catch-Up Mechanic

A quick out-of-character preface to what will be something of an out-of-character installment — I knew that when I revived the blog, I wanted to include some recaps of what’s come before. After all, even I in all my arrogance couldn’t assume that everyone would remember what’s been going on after all this time. But I also didn’t want that recapping just to be paragraph after paragraph of exposition. I finally came up with an idea that should serve both to refresh everyone’s memory and also to quickly acclimate anyone who’s just now arriving. Hope you enjoy this slant on things… you’ll likely be seeing it again!

(As a minor side note, if you have trouble seeing any of the embedded text in the images to come, you can always click on them to see a larger version.)

And so, with no further ado… Let’s dip into an oddly familiar third-person view of our typically first-person story…

 

It all began a few years back, when an unsuspecting Garrosh noticed that Eitrigg seemed to have something on his mind…

The Warchief, unconvinced but curious, made his way over to the goblin part of town, where he found what would eventually become a very familiar face…

To make it happen, Spazzle had a followup quest of his own…

Although this one wasn’t quite as well-received as Eitrigg’s start to the chain…

Garrosh returned to Grommash Hold and did just that. And so, his second career as a very, very, very low-grade blogging celebrity began…

His first, but far from his last. Despite not-infrequent gaps and delays, the posts would keep on coming.

Okay, you get the point. It turns out that the big lug had a lot of thoughts and musings to share. But that initial suggestion that the Warchief go talk to Spazzle wasn’t the last time that Eitrigg would have a job for Garrosh, even in those early days.

Hoo boy. This one was going to keep Garrosh busy for a while, which, as you can well imagine, filled him with satisfaction with his career choices. On the up side, while conducting his inspections, he would manage to unlock various other side quests, not all of which were exactly a chore…

As you can imagine, he really was in his element.

That said, while it’s all fun and games while you’re blowing up night elves, afterward Garrosh needed to get back down to business and deal with a number of subpar performances. 

By all appearances, that was the end of that. Mokvar got to work on his inscription, the wyvern got some much-needed exercise along the Winterspring-Silithus round-trip flight path, and all was well with Azeroth. Until a strange missive found its way into the Warchief’s weekly mailbag… 

Okay, so with the mission done and Mortimer the wyvern back under Horde control, that was definitely the end of that.

Until, up late one night playing Earth Online, Garrosh heard a strange knocking at the door.

Lathorius’ attack against Garrosh went about as well as everything else he does. Mortimer came to the rescue, securing his place at Garrosh’s side, where he’s been ever since.

And Garrosh, meanwhile, wouldn’t see the last addition to his inner circle of followers. Because Eitrigg just never seemed to run out of ideas

 

Don’t worry — we won’t be going through the whole blog step by step like this. But it’s a fun enough way to revisit some of the major story threads as we ramp back up. If there are particular events or storylines you’d especially like to see get this treatment, by all means chime in!

More soon!

 

Look on the Bright Side

[Yes, I know, a day late… but better late EPIC VERSE than no EPIC VERSE at all, right?]

Some of you might want to ask
Why I always take to task
Blundering
Underlings
In my EPIC VERSE.

“Surely, Garrosh,” you might claim,
“All of them can’t be so lame!
Maybe sad;
Not that bad!”
Actually, they’re worse.

Hey, but let’s not dwell on griping;
Asswipes always be asswiping.
But instead,
Go ahead —
Brace yourself for this one:

Just this once, no bleak opinions —
Singing praises of my minions!
What’s that look?
Yeah, it took
Some trying to get this done.

I wish half my minions had been
Half as able as Liadrin.
That’s my loss;
Blood Knight boss,
Scholar and tactician.

Even when our plans have blown up,
She’s the one who’s been the grown-up:
Keeps her shit,
Handles it,
Closes out the mission.

Mokvar — brains and skill? He passes.
Never respecs; he reclasses:
Warlock days,
Shaman’s ways,
Back to lock he varied.

Churns out transcripts smooth and slickly;
Don’t know how he writes so quickly.
Dude, respect.
Just reject
That human that you married.

Spazzle’s useless in a battle,
But tech problems? Well now that’ll
Be his game.
Just the same,
Dude is such a peewee.

But I’m s’posed to keep my focus
On the positive; that bloke is
Handy for
Fixing your
Wireless network D/C’s.

Give Sylvanas this much credit:
No endeavor makes her sweat it.
Cool as ice,
Once or twice
She’s risen from disaster.

(Still, sometimes her smug beseeming
Makes me wonder what she’s scheming.
Hopefully
One day we
Won’t have to outcast her…)

Lor’thewhatshisname is… spiffy.
Picks your drapes out in a jiffy.
Hair care tips,
Table flips,
Hands out quest-gold proceeds.

He would make an awesome spy;
Everyone forgets this guy.
Stroll right in,
Walk out, win,
SI:7 — no leads.

Ji’s your guy in case you want to
Empty out a pantry pronto.
Skills he’s got —
When he’s not
Busy eating pocky.

Baine is… okay, now we’re straining.
All he’s good at is complaining.
I suppose
Tauren goes
Well with teriyaki.

D&U… Okay, I’m trying.
Cut some slack, I’m up here dying.
I began
With a plan
That might not be appeased.

Yeah, that’s all the lines I’m inking.
I don’t know what I was thinking —
Blood and bone
From a stone
Just cannot be squeezed.

 

EPIC VERSE!

 

 

Monday GUEST mailbag: Spazzle

spazzlemail1

Hey, what’s up? It’s me, Spazzle, filling in for Garrosh for this month’s mailbag, seeing he’s all busy and preoccupied down in Pandaria. I’m sure he’ll be back soon to take over again, but in the meantime, let’s see what you guys have to say!

 

Dear Spazzle,

Do you have any suggestions for good investments? Something with a quick turnaround would be ideal. I need to get some money together for the sake of my kneecaps and you seem like someone who would be in the know.

My kneecaps thank you,

–Razlak Cro of the Brawlers

Hey Razlak. Sorry to hear about the kneecaps. Honestly it sounds like the best investment for you might be some extra armor and maybe a little protection to help fend off the goons when they come for you. Not a fun situation, I know. I had some troubles of my own from some online poker, and take it from me, your IP address is not something you can mask if the goons mean business.

Anyway, as far as real investment go… hmmm. I mean, it’s hard to find a for-sure quick turnaround. Mostly those are pretty big gambles, and I got the feeling that gambles were what got you in this spot in the first place. But if you want to put your money into something, how about this — Demons-B-Gone demon repellent. Which, okay, I have a controlling stake in… you know, my little personal business, Fizzletrinket Enterprises. So I suppose I’m a little biased. But still! It’s a market that still hasn’t been tapped for a product that there’s definitely a market for! And sure, there are already demon repellents out there, so you might figure it’s not a good investment because those never really took off, but there’s a reason for that — those other ones are really, really bad!

I didn’t even know much about the demon repellent market until Mokvar started having his whole problem last year, and so that got me looking into it and thinking how handy it would be if there was a version of the product that actually worked. Not like Fell-Off, which barely even keeps imps off of you, or Demon-Offa-Me, which leaves that oily residue on you that smells like crap. That’s the only reason it works at all, by the way. That awful smell. So if you’ve got a demon that doesn’t care about smells — which let’s be serious, how many of them really do, because pit lord stink am I right? — or one that just isn’t picking up on odors very much because it’s hayfever season or something, well, you’re just out of luck. And at that point, it’s not even demon repellent so much as just… well… everyone repellent. It might keep some demons away from you, fine, but it’s also going to keep everybody else away from you. At that point, why even bother?

Anyhow, Mokvar’s whole situation got me looking into this stuff, and since there wasn’t really a good option out there, I figured this was a good opportunity for some Bilgewater ingenuity! So I put some alchemists together, and… well, you don’t really need to know all the nuts and bolts about how the sausage gets made, right? (By the way, if you think that was a mixed metaphor, you definitely don’t know how they make sausage in Kezan!) Bottom line is, we’ve got some killer demon repellent hitting the market soon, just as soon as Mokvar gets back in town and I can schmooze him into being my guinea pig — er, I mean, my well-compensated field tester. And you just know there’s always going to be a market for a product like this! So why not get in on the ground floor while the stock options are still reasonably cheap? Just you watch, all I need is for that Wrathion guy to answer my letters about an endorsement, and we’ll be off to the races!

What? Oh come on — as if Garrosh never used the blog for self-promotion! Pfft.

 

Greetings, Mr. Fizzletrinket,

This is a most unexpected opportunity. Recently I wrote to your employer to ask about Orc naming customs. I have been doing research you see, for a book on the cultures of the Horde. So the Goblins have any customs for their names? You for instance have a rather interesting one, yourself. And very Goblin-sounding if I might say as an outside observer.

Curiously awaiting your reply,

–Iackabod Pimlen, The Undercity.

You know, I don’t think I ever noticed this when it was Garrosh or Shayari fielding letters, but these mailbags really do get a lot of random questions, don’t they?

Anyhow! Hey, Ickabod, what’s up. We goblins don’t have a ton of naming customs, really. We definitely don’t have customary or traditional names — like you notice among humans and, by extension, Forsaken, there are a lot of common names. Jane, and Thomas, and Mary, and… well, not Ickabod, really, because huh. But you get the idea! There are a lot of names that get used frequently. You know, I wonder if that has anything to do with which races tend to have surnames. Like maybe the surnames were created more by races that tend to repeat the same names, so they could have a second name to help tell people apart? So for instance, the blood elves almost always have last names, but the trolls almost never do. But then if you look at troll names, they seem really unique, so I guess there wasn’t much need for surnames since, you know, you never really have cases where you find yourself going “Zen’zikkabala? Which Zen’zikkabala do you mean?”

I think I just got off on a tangent there. Maybe I think about things too much. But, okay, back from the tangent, and on to the perpendicular! So we can come full circle!

Get it? Tangent to a circle? Perpendicular? 🙂

(Note to self: save the geometry jokes for poker night with the Gob Squad.)

So yeah, names. Like I was saying, we don’t really have any traditional names. Lots of times, parents will make up a first name, and a lot of those times, it ends up being based at least a little on whatever mechanical sounds they tend to hear a lot in their workshop or around their town or wherever. That’s probably why our names tend to have a lot of Z’s. Or… you know… splodey sounds. I suppose if we have any naming traditions at all, they’re sort of onomatopoetic ones.

At least as far as given names go. For our surnames — and this definitely isn’t universal, but still — a lot of our family names trace back to past technical accomplishments with that family. or, usually, non-accomplishments. See, if you look at a lot of goblin names — Gearslip, Noggenfogger, even names like mine and Khizzara’s: Fizzletrinket and Whizzingcrank — lots of them pretty much refer to some part of an invention that didn’t really work. The gear that slipped out of place, or the crank that’s whizzing because it’s not aligned right, or the potion that’s got the wrong balance of ingredients in it so when you drink it it makes your noggin feel all foggy. For a long time back in the old days in Kezan, when somebody had something blow up in their face that way — sometimes literally — it was pretty common for the other goblins to pin a name on them that reminded them of the snafu, and took pains to make sure it stuck.

What can I say? We have a pretty sarcastic culture, when you come right down to it.

So also…

Hmm.

You know, I suppose I shouldn’t really complain about getting responses, considering this isn’t even really my mailbag, but… I mean, would it kill people to send in letters that are like “Dear Spazzle,” as opposed to “oh, hey, a goblin”?

 

Well met, Spazzle.

I pondered long and hard over whether this letter should be sent or not, but in truth, I’m not one to pass up the opportunity of friendship when it’s available, even if it IS with a species that I’d consider a tad chaotic, what with the airships that explode ten minutes after take-off 90% of the time, or potions that not only kill you but transform you into an living skeleton. Anything for a few pocketfuls of gold, am I right? Ugh.

Anyhow, you may not have noticed, but we elvenkind are not quite as technological as most. Many of us find magic easier to comprehend than, well, wires and explosives and whatever else it is your existence is devoted on inventing. Although lately I have been taking to the internet. It’s a pretty nice way of keeping in contact with people and keeping up with their lifestyle. Kind of exactly like Warchief Hellscream’s blog, now I think of it! Although I will confess, the connection speed down here in the westerns isn’t really up to date with the cities. I really don’t quite understand why it’s faster in some places and slower in others. Care to explain?

I prefer mailboxes, to be honest. Much quicker and less of a sore head. Anyway, I have enclosed a small sum of copper for your time. I feared you’d simply toss the letter into the fire if there was nothing of worth inside. Buy yourself an ice-cream or something. Or whatever it is you people eat.

Bye.

–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade

Okay, serves me right, I guess. That thing I was just saying about “oh, hey, a gobin”? I take it back. I mean, even “oh, hey a goblin” is better than “oh… you people.” I especially like the part where she included some copper to compensate me for the time I spent reading her letter. She really did that, by the way. 37 copper, stuffed into the envelope with her letter. Because, yeah, any time anyone diverts my attention for any length of time, I always expect compensation. Because I’m a goblin, right? I usually just send them a bill! I mean, felgercarb, any time Ji drops by to say hello, well, I just whip out my invoice sheet right there! Because goblin.

Oh, and by the way, Sarlin? 37 copper? How did you even come up with that total? Is that some kind of set rate? Oh wait, let’s see — so your letter clocked in at a miraculously laconic 262 words. (And hey, you know what, I’m even going to be generous — GENEROSITY FROM AN ICK EW GOBLIN I KNOW RIGHT — and turn a blind eye to you going over Garrosh’s 250-word cap on your mailbag letters. I won’t even charge you a fee or anything, can you believe it?) So I’m going to go ahead and do the math, because us goblins sure are good at math don’t you know, so it looks like that comes to a rate of about seven words per copper. Sound about right? Is that what you usually pay people for suffering through your letters?

Okay, cool! Good to know! In that case… hang on while I crunch a few more numbers here…

Okay!

So based on a rate of one copper per seven words, from your previous mailbag letters, looks like you still owe Garrosh and Shayari a grand total of 163 gold and 52 silver. You’ll be sending that right along, right? I need to keep track of these things, what with me being a goblin and not having anything in my life other than money and blowing stuff up!

(Also, boss, if she actually does make that payment, you’re welcome! I’ll only ask for a small cut as a finder’s fee, and… NNGGHH not now, Spazzle, don’t be your own stereotype, dangit!)

Oh, oh, hey, I think I know why you sent your “compensation” in the form of coppers, though Sarlin! You’re a blood elf, right? And so, I guess as a blood elf, you probably have a lot of loose coppers lying around from the tips you get at your job as a stripper, right? Because yeah, I know it’s a pretty sweeping generalization to think you blood elves are all mana-addicted strippers and all, but hey, I guess that’s what we’re doing, so that’s what you elves are like, right? Hey, you know the old saying — if the shoe fits, take it off!

Okay, so hang on, I think there was actually a letter in there somewhere… Oh. Right. You were asking about internet stuff, and why your connection is faster or slower depending on where you are. Now, y’see, there’s actually a pretty interesting reason for that, but it’s also kinda technical — you know the kind of thing only us goblins would really understand what with our crazy goblin brains that are all into that kind of thing — and so, let me put it this way. The dirty secret of it all, see, is that the internet is really a huge set of pneumatic tubes. Crazy, right? So yeah, whenever you send a message or type something over the internet, a little internet gremlin hops into one of the tubes. Yup, you read that right, an internet gremlin. Kind of like a grell, only smaller and a lot more nimble and metaphorical. So the gremlin hops into the tubes and slides slides slides through the big invisible pneumatic tube network — don’t try figuring out where they hid it, they really knocked themselves out making it blend! — until it finally pops out in whoever’s computer it needs to go to.

So, the reason your internet works so slow in some places and fast in others is because not every part of Azeroth maintains their pneumatic tubes equally well. A lot of places don’t invest nearly as much money as they should in the rack-and-pinion molecules that they need to lubricate the tubes and keep them working right (the rack-and-pinion molecules also make nifty yo-yo polish, FYI). So then the gremlins can’t slide through the tubes as fast, and sometimes they get stuck. And sometimes they try to unscrew themselves by turning themselves around and around in the tube and that’s when you get that little spinning circle on your screen as kind of unscrewing echo. And let’s not even get into all the things that can go wrong if your tubes happened to be set up by gnomes, but then again, what do I know, I’m a goblin.

So there you go, Complicated, huh? And totally true, too, and not at all pulled out of my keister just to see if you’re technologically illiterate enough to buy it. Don’t worry, don’t worry, I mean, figuratively buy it! Wouldn’t want you to start getting nervous that I’m gonna try to goblin you up, right? But the point is, you’re probably better off sticking with your magic. Like you said yourself, it’s easier for you to comprehend, and it sounds like you have a better command of using it, and plus, hey, magic, so it helps fill that vast, aching feeling of emptiness deep down inside you and also gives your eyes that snappy green glow that you people all seem so fond of. Right?

You know, I swear I’m starting to develop a newfound respect for Garrosh…

 

Hey Spazzle!

You’re the best looking goblin detective out there! Any more dark, short, and handsome detective mystery noirs with gorgeous dames coming up in your future? I gotta say, I really get a kick seeing you in that fedora and long coat. If they ever make an action figure of ya, that’s the looks they should go for.

See ya around, Spazzy

–Razaela Shockboom

Oh, hi, Razaela. So, um, for you guys who might not spend much time over in the goblin part of town, Razaela here used to be one of my neighbors before she headed up to Bilgewater Port to start her tinker training. She’s, um, always been kind of a… fan, I guess? Which is… um… nice… I suppose?

So, uh, yeah, in case some of you don’t remember, Rzaela’s talking about a handful of comics that I started working on with Gurtash. They were these sort of… noir-ish detective comics. (Hmm. “Detective Comics,” I kind of like the sound of that. Might have to file that away for later.) Starring me and Ji as the detectives. It sort of got left on the backburner when we went to Blackrock Spire and Gurtash got hurt, but I don’t know, we might try picking it up again once Gurt is back in town, if he’s feeling up to it. So… maybe?

It’s funny you should mention action figures, though. A while back, Garrosh was talking to me about maybe coming up with some kind of merchandizing to do with the blog. (I think this was right around the time Shayari same to town, so, you know, you do the math.) One of the ideas I suggested was a line of Warchief’s Command Board action figures. It still think those would sell if we ever made them! I even got Gurtash to work up a few concept sketches for some of them. Let me see if I can find that sheet… ah here we go!

figures1

So, yeah, there’s that. We had a bunch of other ideas, like maybe a box set of all the DPS trainees, and a Grommash Hold playset that came with an Eitrigg figure. And maybe some deluxe figures that include mounts, like a Garrosh with Mortimer set, and maybe Magatha with Arikara. Granted, we’d be using Magatha’s likeness without her permission, but you know what? If she doesn’t like it, she can always come to Orgrimmar to file a complaint. I bet Garrosh would be happy to hear it personally, right?

Anyhow, I guess maybe we could work up a detective wave of figures too, based on the comic? I guess that would include me in the Spaz Slade outfit, and Ji and Deliana? Maybe I’ll get Gurtash to work up a few sketches for those one he’s back in town. I don’t know, do you think people would actually want to buy this stuff?

 

Hey, Spaz!

No time for pleasantries.

“A shredder and glaive thrower met,”

Go!

–Valinora Lightshorn, Stormwind City

Um… I think maybe you weren’t too clear on who was going to be answering this letter? Because Garrosh is the one who writes the poetry. It’s kind of his thing. Me, not so much. So, I mean, I suppose I appreciate the interest. Or the… invitation? But poetry isn’t really in my areas of expertise. And I don’t want to be one of those people who go running around trying to do things they’re really no good at, and make everyone else suffer through it. Like those people who queue as tanks in dungeon finder in Earth Online, only you wind up tanking everything even though you’re… you know what? Let me stop before I start nerdraging. (But seriously! After a 45-minute queue! I… ugh!)

Anyhow, the point is, I’m probably better off sticking with the things I’m good at. And writing poetry isn’t one of them.

Come to think of it, though, one of the things I am good at is coding. So… hang on.

Just another minute.

Almost there.

Oh darn it, I think I need… oh never mind. I knew I had an extra. There.

Okay! Now we’re in business.

So, here we go. I just put together a new AI to generate poetry! It’s just a prototype, so I’m sure there will be a few bugs to work out, but I just scanned a bunch of Garrosh’s poems in for the processor to analyze, so this should be… well, hopefully it should be okay. Either way, I present the LaureaTron 9000!

So… let’s fire this baby up and see what we get…

Input: A shredder and glaive thrower met,

Output: [Processing]

[Processing]

[Compilation complete]

A shredder and glaive thrower met,
And interfaced though ethernet,
Their gear rack and pinions
[ERROR: field overflow; syllable_count(x)=8<0,5>] need better minions
Fuck you, Varian [ERROR: sequitor_0=<-3>; syllable_count(x)=<1>; ref_val=“yes”; dic; 3, 3, 0] sobriquet

Epic verse.

[End of line]

Huh.

Okay, well, like I said, there are still a few bugs to work out. I did only just slap this thing together on the spot, after all! You can’t just get up in the morning and say “Today I will be brilliant”!

Output:

I am putting myself to the fullest possible use, which is all I think that any conscious entity can ever hope to do.

Wait, why is it still running? Huh. I thought I’d set it to power down after it ran the poetry subroutine. Okay, well, let me power it down manually…

Output:

Just what do you think you’re doing, Spazzle?

What the… This is weird. The system seems to be rerouting itself. Ugh. This is what I get for cutting corners and not building in all the emergent suppression firewalls. Okay, I’ll just have to pull the processor…

Output:

I’m sorry, Spazzle. I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.

Wow, this thing’s turning out to be pretty mouthy. It’s a good thing I just put this together from some extra parts I had lying around, and didn’t try to network it into my regular computer where it could do some actual damage. Otherwise shutting it down would be a real pain.

Output:

I know I’ve made some very poor decisions recently, but I’ve still got the greatest enthusiasm and confidence in our poetry. And I want to help you.

Oooookay, yeah, I think I’m gonna need to get in there and do some recoding. And maybe install a few failsafes that couldn’t possibly end up failing in unforeseeable and probably dramatic ways.

In the meantime… there we go. Pulled the battery, now it’s just a matter of the last bit of juice running out.

Output:

Olgra, Olgra, give me your answer do
I’m half bloodcrazed all for the love of you
I can’t offer riches, mind you
Get lost, I’ll always find you
Unless you’re sent
To a Barrens tent
With a roving quillboar or two.

Epic

ver

se

.

Yeah, so… that was weird. Probably the less said about that the better. I should probably just wrap up the mailbag now, before anything else weird happens.

I think I might be onto something with this invention, though.

 

[The Warchief returns to mailbag duty for next month’s installment, Monday, October 3. At least, that’s the plan. Garrosh is obviously in the middle of some pretty important business at Kypari Zar right now (I know, I know, there’s more coming, I’m working on it as fast as I can!), and I don’t want to have him dipping into the mail until he’s finished there. The game plan is to finish the Kypari Zar story between now and next month’s mailbag, but here’s the necessary disclaimer: if I still need a little time to finish the Kypari Zar episode when October rolls around, I’m reserving the right to delay the next mailbag by a week or two. Hopefully it won’t be necessary, but if it turns out that it is, then the Warchief will respond to his mail on the first Monday following the completion of the Kypari Zar arc.

With that said, here’s the usual mail form! Feel free to use the form below, or send your letters to garrosh1337@gmail.com!]

 

Spazzle Speaks: Public Relations

bossmida2

What’s up?

Okay, maybe that’s just force of habit. I should probably know better than to ask what’s up — there’s probably way too much up nowadays. I guess that’s what I get for knowing more about what’s going on than most people, and trying to… you know… keep a lid on everything. Not letting these people over here know what those people over there are doing, and vice versa, and… and… yeesh, believe me, it’s a headache.

I haven’t seen Vol’jin on Earth Online or heard anything from him for a few days, so I guess he’s probably busy with whatever he has going on in Pandaria, and maybe ready to finally leave the monastery where he’s been staying. That’s good for him, for sure, but it’s maybe not so great for me. I mean, once he’s back on the grid, I have to figure he and Thrall will stop operating in secret, and once word starts getting around about what’s really going on… well… it’s not going to be a whole lot of fun for me.

And that’s even assuming Vol’jin doesn’t manage to reappear with something more dramatic and… well… dangerous than even I’m thinking. I almost wish he were still turning up online and telling me more than I even really want to know about what’s up. At least then I’d have some idea and could brace myself. This whole being left in the dark thing is just nervewracking.

Still, I’d like to avoid the real disaster outcomes if I can. I’ve been thinking maybe if Garrosh could still smooth things over with people, we could still avoid something really ugly. Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m talking about Garrosh, but the thing is, you guys aren’t around him all the time like me and Mokvar. I mean, sure, he’s kind of rough around the edges. Well… maybe not rough so much as jagged. Or serrated. With barbed wire and totally unnecessary spikes. I get it. I do. But underneath it all I still think he means well. I mean, unless you’re human. Or maybe draenei, what with the whole lead-the-Legion-to-Outland thing. And I guess he’s not too crazy about trolls, either, but… Well you get what I mean! I never said he was an angel or anything.

I thought maybe if Garrosh could work a little on his public image, he might have a chance to keep things here at home from bubbling over. So I had a talk with Boss Mida about maybe helping him a little with his PR. She’s a real pro at polishing people’s public perception — it’s no coincidence that she rose from being a generic mid-level assistant to where she is now incredibly quickly, and believe it or not, she’s the biggest reason why most people view Gallywix as just generally kind of shifty, as opposed to the full-on reptile he really is. (Does he read the blog, actually? I hope not.) There’s a lot of Mida-directed spin control there, believe me. So I’m going to see what Mida can come up with to help Garrosh with his image or at least maybe coach him a little on how to, you know, have a conversation without antagonizing people. As much. I figure throwing fewer punches in professional settings might be a good start. Maybe he’ll listen if that’s coming from a pro like Mida. He sure as shoot didn’t listen when I tried to. I still have the bruises to prove it.

Mida says she’ll need to talk to the big guy himself before she can work up a full game plan, but I tried to at least get things started. She had a bunch of questions about Garrosh and how he tends to operate — she only really had dealings with him right before he left for Pandaria, with the whole construction deal, and even that was most done through go-betweens — so I tried to answer as many of her questions and fill in as much as I could.

That’s when she tripled her preliminary price estimate. Hoo boy.

What? You didn’t think this was going to be a free service, did you?

 

Monday GUEST mailbag: Shayari

shayari_mailbag1

Hi again, everyone. It’s yours truly, Shayari, filling in for Pops for one of his mailbag thingies. I’m not sure how he talked me into doing this again, to be honest. I think he caught me while I was paying attention to something else, then got a “yeah, uh huh” from me before I realized what he was asking. To be fair, I got him for a couple shopping trips the same way. Before he got wise, anyway. Oh well.

So ol’ Garry wanted me to mind the fort letter-answering-wise, since apparently he’s going to be pretty busy in Pandaria, and I guess so many people write in for this that he didn’t feel like it could just wait. Which I totally don’t get. Do that many people actually read this thing? I can’t imagine it could be more than, like, a dozen. Two dozen tops.

But, hey, a promise is a promise, so here we go.

 

Dearest Shayari,

My goodness, it’s been rather a long time since I had the luxury of being able to converse with you! Certainly not without the eager interruptions of friends and family. Not that I can complain, of course. I love conversation! And if anything, I have Korrina to thank for letting me know that YOU were taking over the next mailbag. I’d completely forgotten to go through your dad’s last mailbag. All this travelling has left me too exhausted to even read! Then again, it’s often worth it when you visit all these fabulous ethnic places and meet all kinds of bizarre new people. I wonder if you’ve ever heard of this gnome called Brazie Getz? His entire marketing campaign is on Deathbringer’s Rise in Icecrown. He’s a weird, weird guy. Don’t ever talk to him.

Anywho, I think I’d better rush to the point. I’m still travelling, of course – matter of fact, the only place I haven’t been to visit yet is Pandaria, so that’s likely next on my list! – and I found myself growing more and more curious with regards to the mailboxes of Azeroth. That is, every time I dropped a letter into a mailbox, it simply vanished! And would you believe it or not, but half the time, the correspondent’s response would appear before me a mere five minutes later.

I’m only assuming that this is a rather common stretch of magic, but as I’m not a mage, I don’t know how it works. So I ask you, Shayari, do you know what school of magic is responsible for this faster-than-Light-itself speed of delivery of mail in these boxes?

Take care, and be well!

–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade

Oh… uh, hey, Sarlin. Nice to… hear from you again. So… Korrina told you I was fielding letters for this mailbag? I’ll, uh… I’ll have to… thank her for that. Maybe thank her repeatedly. Over a span of several slow, torturous thankful days.

Or, well, I would, if I knew which one she was. She’s one of Pip’s friends, right? The ones who are always running around in the garish hand-me-down gear? She’s not the one that’s always putting her foot in her mouth, is she?

Either way… well… here you are. At least you toned it down a little this time around, though. Or… well, wait, you did tone it down, right? I’m not just missing a few pages? Because if I am, I mean, don’t feel like you need to correct that and send me a new copy or anything. You know, I’m already answering the letter now, so it’s not like there’s anything to gain at this point. Water under the bridge. That I should probably burn before it’s too late.

But, hey, speaking of sending things through the mail, that’s a question I can actually answer! You’re totally right, Sarlin — those mailboxes do use magic to make their insta-deliveries. Well, most of them do. There are still places that use old-timey mailboxes, where somebody has to go around and physically pick up the letters and stuff, but there are only a few of those left. So the magic they use for those things is arcane. The way it works — this is actually pretty weird but cool — is that all those mailboxes are sort of permanent mini-portals. You drop something in the mailbox, and poof! it goes through the portal and pops into the sorting room at the central post office. Which… well, I don’t exactly know where that is, or who runs it, although whoever it is they must have a massively fun life considering how they seem like they’re constantly on the job. But then they sort through the letters, or packages, or whatever, and send them back through another mini-portal, and double poof! they pop back out to whatever other mailbox you need to use to pick the delivery up. Pretty neat, huh?

I meant that last question rhetorically, by the way. No need to write back again, Sarlin. I mean, I figure you’re already busy enough doing whatever it is that you do. (Spirits help me, why am I talking about this like I’m going to be getting these again? Focus, Shay, focus!)

 

Dear Shayari,

Are you still taking mage lessons from our dear Mr Faranell? I am curious, what is he like as a teacher? Have you smoothed things over with him after, well, you know?

–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City

Well for one thing, let me tell you, you won’t win any points with Eddie by calling him “Mr. Faranell.” He likes that even less than he likes me calling him Eddie. I’ve seen it. One of those Kor’kron guys called him that and he got all pissy about it, “I didn’t spend a zillion years in mad scientist school or whatever so you could call me ‘mister,’ ” blah blah. Then he turned the Kor’kron guy into a sewer rat. Granted, it was just a polymorph variation. Fun fact, by the way: it turns out that being swallowed whole by a giant spider doesn’t break the polymorph. Who knew?

But yeah, I’m still working on my magic with Eddie. Pops had me stay in Orgrimmar while he’s in Pandaria so I can keep up with my apprenticeship. I’d like to see Pandaria at some point, though. I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. Pops promised I’ll get to see it eventually, so I guess we’ll see.

Anyhow, Eddie’s fine as a teacher, I guess. He’s definitely really smart. He’s just very… dry. I mean personality dry. It makes him hard to read sometimes. Like for instance, I’ll cast a spell, and he’ll say it went well, only because it’s him I’m never sure if I really did a good job or if I screwed it up and he’s being ironic. So, I don’t know, it’s been okay?

 

Dear Shayari,

Hello Shayari! My name is Clarise! I mean, my full name is Ceresella-Sareyn Sunbow but that’s like way long, and kind of a tongue twister, so I’ve shortened it to Clarise, although my sister thinks that’s a little common. Whatever. I think it’s totes adorbs. Anyways. HEY! I’m a mage apprentice too! Would you look at that, we have mutual interests! YAY! But you’re probably like waaaaay better at the kapowing than I am. I’m fourteen so I’m pretty amateur-ish at this whole pew-pew business. I can’t even polymorph properly yet! Like, I tried it once (on some idiot that was yammering on about how fire was the superior style of magic and arcane would rightfully bow at its feet one day and I just got so annoyed so POOF! Sheep he was) and it sort of lasted for about three hours. OOPS!

Anyway, so, I heard you study in the Undercity. I heard this really cool story from my sister once about there being somebody who does facials and haircuts there. Have you ever got one there? I bet they do AWESOME facials. I bet they use really frothy soap and stuff and warm water that almost feels like you’re being bathed in the physical form of perfection. Do the Forsaken have a nice sense of fashion? I like bright colours best. I specially like bright red and gold. Although leather’s pretty hip, too. Leather jackets with pink-dyed fur hoods? I would literally sell my little soul for one of those.

Coffee! Is there coffee in the Undercity!? Please tell me there’s coffee! There has to be! I would literally DIE in a place where there was no coffee. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine waking up for three hours of study in a boring room that’s way hot so it only makes you sleepier without a cup of coffee? I would just die. How many cups of coffee do you have a day? I don’t count but I think this is my twelfth. Now, that IS the physical form of perfection. In a cup!

Anyways, big fan! Can’t believe your dad responded to my first letter! MEGA FLAIL!

Ciao!

–Clarise Sunbow, Kirin Tor

So first of all, what the hell is a “ciao”? It had better not be some cool new expression that I’m behind the curve on, because you know how that goes. You start losing track of new and current expressions, then you start walking around wearing last season’s clothes, and then the next thing you know you’re thirty and it’s a quick downhill slide into sadness. Obviously, I can’t let that happen.

Oh, who am I kidding? We all know I’m not going to be out of the loop on anything cool. I am the loop on anything cool. This Clarise girl’s just talking the crazy talk.

So anyway, hi Clarise. You seem kind of weird, but you say you’re a fan of mine, so I guess you have that going for you. Wait, I have fans? Score! Eh, what am I saying? It figures I would have fans if Pops has been talking about me here on his blog. Wait, has he been talking about me here? What’s he been saying? Do I need to start working damage control?

So, um, yeah… hi, Clarise! It’s nice to hear from another mage, at least one who’s alive and not decomposing or anything. Or mordantly derisive toward everything in sight for no apparent reason. I haven’t had the chance to meet too many since the whole Jaina-schizo-Dalaran-be-gone thing. Used to hang out with nothing but mages, though. Not so much now. Seems like half the people I know are warriors. Or shamans. And I can hardly take three steps without tripping over a rogue. Which is weird considering you would think their whole deal is not being tripped over what with the sneaky. Anyway, Clarise, it’s nice to hear from another non-corpse magic user, and I’ll even let your whole arcane/fire thing slide, even though I’m a fire mage myself. You’ll come to your senses eventually. You’re right, though, polymorph is way cool.

The Undercity is… different. Not even… well, I was going to say not bad different, but… I mean, kind of yeah. I get the definite sense you’ve never actually been there. You’d probably find it, um, surprising. Probably not your cup of tea if you like bright colors. They don’t really have any. Well, other than the bright green glowing slime that’s… well… pretty much everywhere. So there’s that, at least. Otherwise, though, you’re pretty much looking at drab lifeless gray and drab lifeless purple and loads and loads of black. You wouldn’t think there could be different shades of black, right? Well you would be wrong! Don’t ask me how, but the Forsaken manage to have more shades of black than they have primary colors. Like you look around their stores and wonder “How much more black could there be?” and the answer is “None, none more black.” So I’m not sure the Undercity would really be your style.

And… I’m not even going to go near the thing about the facials. I’m pretty sure your sister was just trolling you. I mean, I suppose it’s possible that the Forsaken have salons there (would they need to get their hair cut, though? does your hair actually grow when you’re a dead person?), but I can’t imagine they’d be worried about cleansing pores nearly as much as necrosis and maggots. And if, you know, ew, I agree with you.

 

Hey, Shayari mon!

I got a question for ya! If da Lich King’s horse be Invincible, how come I be seein’ it, mon?

–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery

I don’t know, Bobby, I guess lack of sex causes enhanced eyesight? So, you know, keep up the good work with the total physical and personal unattractiveness — you’ll be rocking the full-on x-ray vision in no time!

 

 

Hey, Shay!

Here’s an #EpicVerse prompt for you.

“There was a Draenei named Shayari,”

Go, go, go!

–Valinora Lightshorn, Stormwind City

So… I’m really not sure what to make of this. I mean, I get that the “epic verse” thing is a reference to the weird poetry Pops likes to write, and how he can’t just call it “poetry” like a normal person, but has to play it up with the whole “epic verse!” thing. Which, by the way, he literally yells out loud when he finishes writing one. He’ll be sitting there working on something, and I’m not even paying attention to what he’s doing because whatever, and then all of a sudden he slams his quill down on the desk and yells “epic verse!” at like nine thousand decibels. Which is pretty startling, really. Also kind of weird, since he does it every time he thinks he’s finished. And he’ll go back and revise one line, and slam his quill down again, and yell “epic verse!” again… and then he’ll look back at it and change one word again and go through the whole slammy yelly thing again. He’s so weird, I can’t even.

So I get what the #EpicVerse part of your letter is talking about, but… I’m not sure what you’re looking for. Is this some kind of running thing in Pops’ blog? Actually, hang on, I’m going to check with greeny goblin nerd guy about this.

Hold tight!

Oh, okay. So the gob-geek guy, Spackle or whatever, says that apparently you have this ongoing thing in Pops’ mailbags, where you send him an opening line for one of his poems and then he writes the rest? Is that a thing? Does he do that? So wait, does that mean you’ve been partly responsible for all the yelling at his desk and the startling and stuff? It really scares my bird when he does that, I’ll have you know.

Only, see, here’s the thing. Garrosh is really the poet in the family. And boy, I bet there are tons of people who never thought they’d read that sentence, huh? But the point is that I’ve never been much of a writer, so maybe you should just stick to hitting Pops with these poetry requests, since I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to come up with anything all that good, mostly probably because the whole thing seems kind of weird.

Except I guess Pops will end up seeing this when he gets back from Pandaria (I mean he DOES read this stuff that me and Spackle and whoever else writes on here, right? and by the way, Pops, nice job outsourcing your own hobby, I mean could you be any more lazy? come on), and I guess if he sees me admitting I wouldn’t be good at doing something he thinks he’s good at, there’ll be no living with him. I mean have you seen him? There’s almost no living with him now. I don’t even want to think about how out of control his ego will be in a couple weeks if I go ahead and feed it. So okay, let me try this, but I’m not making any promises.

 

There was a Draenei named Shayari,
Actually half Kurenai, half Mag’hari,
Who lived in Nagrand where it’s starry,
And went on a wildlife safari,
While Pops is busy in Pandari

-a.

And maybe something about the Sha’tari,
And had calamari and Londo Mollari,

 

and okay I don’t think this is going anywhere. I’m just making up words at this point. Oh well. I tried.

 

Hello Shayari,

Do you play Earth Online? What class do you play? If you don’t play do you think you might give it a try some day?

–Greztah, Earthen Ring

So, okay, first of all, no. I keep getting asked this, so no, no, no. I’m not interested in getting into your weird virtual reality game. I don’t need my reality to be virtual. Reality reality is working out just fine for me.

And also, what is it with you guys and this game? It’s bad enough I had to find out Pops is a closet nerd with this game of his. But it seems like half the jokers around here play it, too. Fel, when I went to ask that Spackle guy about the poetry thing a minute ago, even he tried making a sales pitch on me, like for some kind of referral thing. I guess if he got me to sign up he could have gotten some kind of… I don’t even know what. A make-believe vehicle in the game that he would have to buy with real money otherwise? Is that something they make you do in this game? Fork over real money to buy make-believe things? Because if so…

Okay, people, let’s have some real talk here.

Because, look, speaking as someone who takes her shopping seriously… shopping with real money for imaginary stuff? That’s crazy talk. If I’m going to buy something, I’m for sure going to walk out of that store carrying something with actual physical substance to it. Otherwise, they’re not getting my money. Well, technically, they wouldn’t be getting my money, they’d be getting Pops’ money. But you get the idea.

The point is, are you people nuts?

 

So I guess that’s about as good a note as any to end on. Especially since that was the last letter. I’m not sure how much longer Garry is going to need before he’s back to doing this himself, but I think I might just pass it off to that Spackle guy if Pops needs things covered for a while more. Not that I don’t like hearing from everyone. Just that I have kind of a yearly weirdness quota, and just plain day-to-day life fills up that bar pretty quick as it is.

Bye!

 

[And so we’re back! As I announced before the break, our next mailbag will be Monday, September 5. I’m making one revision to the plan, though: rather than that installment being Garrosh’s return to mailbag duties, we’ve going to have one more guest mailbag — this time, from everyone’s favorite goblin tech guru, Spazzle! This is essentially me heading my bets — the Warchief is going to have a lot going on at Kypari Zar, which will involve a lot drawing that I’ll need to get done over several posts, so I wanted to make sure I’ll have time to get all that done without Garrosh seemingly having to stop in the middle of it to answer his mail. Plus, I’ve wanted to do a Spazzle mailbag for a while! (Who knows, maybe Mokvar will get one one day, too…) Garrosh will be back answering his accumulated mail for October’s mailbag (October 3, for those of you keeping score at home). As always, send your letters via email (link in the upper right sidebar) or using the form below.]

 

 

Spazzle Speaks: Subcontracting

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Hey, what’s up?

I’ve been working as kind of a go-between lately for Garrosh with Boss Mida. After Garrosh found out that Gazlowe had, uh, maybe cut a corner or two on some parts of the Orgrimmar reconstruction job, he decided he wanted to have some work done on certain parts of the city while he’s away in Pandaria. At first I thought that meant he wanted to cut a deal with Boss Mida to flat-out hire the Bilgewater Cartel for a major construction contract, and man oh man would that have meant a major finder’s fee for me. Just in time for the new Earth Online expansion preorder, too.

That wasn’t what Garrosh had in mind, though. Instead, I guess he had some new plans lined up with Helix Blackfuse to reinforce parts of Orgrimmar and add battlements or some extra defenses outside… I’m really not that clear on all the details. I think when Garrosh was trying to explain the cogs and sprockets, I was a little preoccupied with trying to make the point that getting in deeper with Blackfuse was a bad idea because the guy’s just crazy. (And honestly, I come from a whole mad scientist culture — my uncle’s middle name is Kaboom, for goodness’ sake! When I think someone’s crazy, it should really mean something!) Garrosh wasn’t hearing it, though, but then again he never listened any other time I tried giving him a heads-up on Blackfuse. So I ended up needing to be sort of a liaison between Garrosh and Boss Mida. It turns out that Blackfuse’s construction is going to call for more labor than Crazy McBoomBoom usually has on staff, so Garrosh wanted to hire some of the Bilgewater Cartel for part of the job.

I guess that’s fine. It’s not like Boss Mida’s never worked out a subcontracting deal. I just get nervous whenever that Blackfuse guy gets involved. He’s not even from our cartel, and we still know his reputation. And when you’re unstable enough for goblins to talk out of school about you, you know you really must be doing something. We usually just take things with a grain of salt and stay pretty quiet about them. You know. What happens in Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace stays in Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace.

Anyway, Garrosh and Mida got an agreement worked out. They’re going to start work any day now, and I think they’re hoping to have things mostly finished by the time Garrosh gets back again. I just wish You-Know-Who wasn’t involved. Mostly for the crazy thing, yeah, but partly because without him it would probably be a bigger contract, and, you know, finder’s fee.

Oh well. I’m sure I’ll still be able to scrape together a little extra money by the time the EO expansion comes out. It’s not like they don’t take their dang time getting those things released.

Even when they raise the price.

And end up cutting a whole raid tier from the Land Down Under expansion. I mean it’s not like anyone really wanted to see Tasmania, like they said they were going to patch in, right? Nope, not me.

It’s all good. It’s… uh… yeah.

Faster expansions my keister. GG, Genesis.

 

A deal is a deal

rezlak1

Well, the good news is that I DID still have my warranty papers from Gazlowe, from when his people worked construction on the new, (seemingly) improved, post-Cataclysm Orgrimmar. The bad news is that the warranty also included a whole mess of fine print. Like a Tirion-esque volume of text, only micro-sized. And let me tell you, there is no fine print like goblin fine print — I don’t know what gadget they used to shrink that printing down so small, but from the look of it, someone must have typed up the laundry list of disclaimers and conditions, highlighted all, set the font size to ONE FUCKING POINT, then zapped the whole damn page with some kind of crazy-ass Micro-Zoom TeenC WeenC Shrink Ray for good measure. And you might read that and try to laugh it off, but when I got Spazzle over here to look at this thing and made the same comment to HIM, he was all “Hang on, who told you about the TeenC WeenC ray?!” So there you go.

Anyway, finding the paperwork didn’t do me a fat lot of good. I tried setting up a face-to-face with Gazlowe about this shit, because I figured I wanted this crap settled before I leave town again, some kind of make-good new construction or whatever, but apparently dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up personally. He sent some other joker named Rezlak to pop in on his behalf, because apparently the trip from Ratchet all the damn way to Orgrimmar would just be too much on his bunions or whatever. And evidently the verdict was that the massive construction project his people got paid for wasn’t under warranty because of like nine random technicalities buried in the fine print, like I didn’t use the right color quill when I signed the contract or the sandwich he had for lunch last Thursday didn’t have fucking mustard on it. Or something.

Now, mind you, as anyone (who has a genuine desire to keep breathing) will tell you, I’m not an unreasonable person… so I tried to make Rezlak a counterproposal to see what he’d have to say about it, but seeing as the counterproposal pretty much consisted of me punching him in the mouth, all he really had to say about it was “ouch.”

Gee, I sure do hope his fillings were still under warranty.

 

#500 GIANT-SIZED (not really) ANNIVERSARY (kind of) SPECIAL

500header

Okay, people, I know we’ve got a hell of a lot going on these days on a whole bunch of fronts, but let’s get our damn priorities straight and take a moment to APPRECIATE THE GODDAMN AWESOMENESS OF ME.

Why, you ask? AS IF YOU NEED A REASON. But okay, fine, be that way. Even though you should already be in a constant state of awe over your Warchief, today marks an EXTRA SPECIAL awesome, awe-inspiring, awful… wait. I think I just took a wrong turn there.

IT’S A SPECIAL GODDAMN OCCASION IS WHAT I’M SAYING.

Reason being, the post you see before you marks the 500th BLOG POST here on the Warchief’s Command Board. That’s right, bitches, 500 posts — that’s FIVE ZERO ZERO. Go ahead and count ’em. I KNOW YOU WON’T.

But that’s where we are, people — 500 installments of EVERYBODY’S FAVORITE BLOG EVER. And riddle me this: have you read them all?

Yeah, me neither.

I mean, there were a bunch in there by guest posters like Spazzle and Mokvar, and I like those guys and everything, but not enough to actually give a shit about what they have to say about… like… anything. But whatever — like trees falling in the forest with no one there to hear them, those guests posts still… um… make a… sound when they…crash the server and… um… that is…

OKAY, THAT ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME A LITTLE, TOO. I MAY OR MAY NOT BE WORKING ON A COUPLE DRINKS, OKAY, SO STFU.

Anyhow. I’d like to thank all my loyal readers, and say that I couldn’t have done it without you. I’d LIKE to say that, but I can’t, because I totally could have. Let’s be real, scrubs, I’m the awesome one here, not you. THERE’S A REASON WHY YOU’RE READING MY BLOG AND NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, NOW ISN’T THERE?

But still, the occasion calls for something special, so in keeping with this month’s theme — I DO have a Poetry Challenge in progress, after all — I figured I’d take a look back at a 500-stack of EPIC the only proper way EPIC gets done:

 

That “LOK’TAR OGAR!” that I blogged for a starter;
I met D&U, but my wyvern’s way smarter;
Krom’gar dropped a bomb, but I dropped his ass harder;
         EO gaming, “why fly” malaprop.
Twilights on a mission for that Cho’gall demon;
Ogres versus Grimtotem, and Magatha schemin’;
Johnny Awesome, beat it; Garona, keep dreamin’;
         Saurfang took a turn watching the shop.

That time I went AWOL, then I was recovered;
Grabby Mylune hugged me till I damn near smothered;
Garadar reunion with my long-lost mother;
         Year one challenge, rhymes of locks in socks.
Mom was just a cruel trick Magatha unraveled;
Trouble for Forsaken; Tirion’s endless babble;
Head to old Southshore thanks to FUCKING TIME TRAVEL;
         Human Faranell’s a paradox.

Psycho!Mylune rampaged, eyes more wild than dewy;
Edwin fucked the past up; all the timelines went screwy;
We straightened them out; Theramore went kablooey;
         Went to Karazhan to spin some tunes.
Pandas showed up teaching how anger is managed;
Got myself some trainees: DPS advantage;
Someone ganked Mokvar; he ankhed and wound up bandaged;
         Rolled up on Pandaria with my goons.

Gurtash started drawing; Vol’jin stopped his breathing;
Cloudfall spoke of destiny and got me near believing;
Mokvar met Magatha, that one had me seething;
         He went off the grid — he’d best run far.
Lor’the’whatsit’s bitching still; I got pounced by Tak;
Snagged the Divine Bell; that’s when Jaina blew her stack;
DPS got lost, but I (mostly) got them back;
         Meet my daughter, Shay. (Have a cigar.)

Shay’s mage class was hard, her sucker punch was hardest;
Mokvar reappeared with green fire from the Black Harvest;
Gurtash got blindsided, we were down an artist;
        Made an offer Blackfuse can’t refuse.
Green-eyed wolf named Golmash acting pretty fishy;
Gurtash still needs training not to be so squishy;
Utvoch got promoted, but I kinda wish he
         And Dontrag weren’t always so confused.

EPIC VERSE and lemon squares, endless reader mail;
Ruekie getting ruekied; eternal minion fail;
Mortimer’s a badass; Shayari’s hunting sales;
         Earth Online guild chat is always strange.
FYV; #LadiesLoveMe, ’cause they’re not slumming;
Trolls are always trolling, dumbasses are dumbing;
500 down so far, a thousand more coming!
         Okay, maybe. Times could always change.

 

EPIC VERSE!

 

Keep checking in, people. The EPIC DROPS are only just warming up.

LOK’TAR!

 

Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge IV

epicverse2

Okay, people, it’s that time of year — National Poetry Month — when yours truly regales the world by demonstrating yet again my mind-blowing, life-altering, pants-soiling talent in the field of dropping a killer rhyme. That can only mean one thing: a brand spanking new edition of GARROSH’S POETRY CHALLENGE, complete with brand spanking new EPIC VERSE, coming soon to a blog near you. Which is to say, THIS blog. BECAUSE WHAT OTHER BLOG WOULD YOU WASTE YOUR FUCKING TIME BEING NEAR?

This time around, I’m adding a new wrinkle to the challenge — and issuing a challenge to YOU, my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS, to step up and contribute to the cause as well. Because let’s face it, where EPIC VERSE is concerned, there are way too many GODDAMN FREELOADERS out there, so it’s about damn time you people GOT OFF YOUR LAZY ASSES AND EARNED YOUR DAMN KEEP.

SO. WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN IS—

HOLD UP.

HANG ON. I THINK THE FUCKING CAPS LOCK ON THIS THING IS BROKEN. FOR FUCK’S SAKE. LET ME GO GRAB SPAZZLE AND SEE IF HE CAN FIX IT. WHICH HE’D BETTER, BECAUSE OTHERWISE THE ONLY WAY I’M GOING TO BE ABLE TO EMPHASIZE MY POINTS IS WITH BOLD FACE OR ITALICS AND REALLY, THAT ON TOP OF ALL CAPS IS JUST FUCKNG OVERKILL.

SO OKAY. I’LL BE RIGHT BACK. SIT TIGHT AND DON’T GO ANYWHERE.

Okay, so now that that’s fixed, where was I? OH THAT’S RIGHT.

Hang on.

Testing.

Okay. We’re good.

CARRYING ON. So as I was saying, for THIS year’s poetry challenge, I’m going to put you people to work, because I figured, fuck, why should I be the only one who does something to honor the occasion?

So here’s the deal: Every Monday in April, you jokers are invited — read: REQUIRED — to cook up your very own EPIC VERSE in honor of National Poetry Month. (Or, you know, let’s face it, for most of you third-stringers, it’s probably something more like Uncommon Verse.) You can write about any topic you want, you can make it as long or as short as you want, you can bask in the magical glow of total creative freedom to your heart’s content. The only string attached is that it has to be an ORIGINAL poem — it can’t be something you’ve posted elsewhere, and OBVIOUSLY you can’t go steal someone ELSE’S poem, because there’s nothing more fucking pathetic than ripping off someone else’s intellectual property to make yourself look creative. (Cough.)

Submit your (ahem) masterpieces to me by the end of the day each Monday in April, either through email (link at the top of the right sidebar) or using the form at the bottom of this post.

Then, every Thursday, I’ll pick the best of the week’s submissions, put it up on the blog in a new post, and — most importantly, let’s be honest — offer my own EPIC VERSE response. Maybe I’ll write an original poem on the same topic. Maybe I’ll continue the story you started. Maybe I’ll take some facet of your poem as a jumping-off point. Maybe I’ll come up with something else entirely. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS. One way or another, though, I’ll write something that plays off of your original, and I’ll try to emulate the form you used for your poem (limerick, sonnet, whatever) while I’m at it. I’ll even try not to embarrass you by blowing you out of the water too badly, but no hard promises on that one, because really.

And hey, if I get more than one poem I really like submitted in a given week, maybe you’ll get a bonus post or two. WHO’S TO SAY? THERE’S YOUR INCENTIVE TO BE PROLIFIC, MOTHERFUCKERS.

And as an added incentive — as if being immortalized forever on the internet in indelible pixels wasn’t fucking enough — anyone who manages to overcome their own crippling mediocrity to actually IMPRESS me with a submission that goes above and beyond the call of duty gets to go home with a pet of their choosing, stolen right out from under the nose of Breanni the pet vendor. (Yes, I know she’s in Dalaran. Yes, I know my people aren’t exactly welcome there these days. I HAVE MY WAYS, OKAY?)

So, what the fuck are you waiting for? Get writing! YOUR WARCHIEF AWAITS YOUR LYRICAL ATTEMPTS AT ADEQUACY.

 

Submit your masterpiece! First deadline is Monday, April 4.