Tag Archives: thrall
Argent Gossip Girl
At long last, a little something for you to enjoy while I go look into matters in Feralas. My latest creation, BECAUSE YOU DEMANDED IT!
High Argent Confessor,
They call me that these days.
Once I was just Paletress,
No difference either way:
Just a simple Elwynn girl
Who joined the Argent Dawn;
I heard what would await me,
And baby, I was gone.
Truth is, I was not inspired
By service to the Light;
Nor did loathing of the Scourge
Compel me to the fight.
But to be a confessor?
To hear folks’ guilt and hurt?
I’ll comfort countless weary souls—
And hear some juicy dirt!
Confessions are in secret,
But wine is like truth serum;
And since you’re buying, between us,
I guess that you could hear ’em.
* * * * *
Mighty Warchief of the Horde,
Thrall: admired, revered, adored.
Blue-eyed orc,
Still a dork,
Way too straight and narrow.
Goody-two-shoes to the last:
Too few scandals in his past;
Worth adoring,
But so boring!
Straight A’s at Caer Darrow.
You should have some better stories,
Tales of blood and rage and glory!
Not a one?
You’re no fun.
Such wasted potential!
Green skin marked by fiendish fel stream;
Kill a pit lord, raise some Hellscream,
Drink and brawl,
Listen, Thrall,
You need badass credentials!
You’re a mighty shaman, true,
But people won’t be scared of you
When as bad
As you’ve had
Is library past-due.
Kick some ass and take some names.
Give me something; this is lame.
Clark Kent, drat.
(Wait, who’s that?)
Green, but you can work blue.
To be fair, such trials to weather,
You had to have your shit together.
Freed the clans,
Fought the man,
Birthright to reclaim, huh?
Maybe memory’s mildly muddy
From being Saurfang’s drinking buddy?
But if not,
Well, nice thought.
At least, hey, you banged Jaina.
* * * * *
Muradin,
Where’ve you been?
Hiding with the Frostborn.
Tale belied:
Thought you’d died
When the prince found Frostmourne.
Pain and grief,
Such relief
To know that you’re not dead.
Slick respawn:
Mem’ries gone
From when you bonked your head.
At least that’s what you tell them now.
Cover story? Yes, and how.
Luckily
You come to me
To unburden your spirit.
Really you just wanted out
From all the guilt and fear and doubt;
Plagued your mind,
What they’d find
And what they’d do to hear it.
Back when Moira went away
Dragged to BRD, they say.
Thaurissan
Was the man,
At least you let them think.
Now she’s joined the Dark Iron coven,
Little dwarf bun in the oven,
But forsooth,
Want the truth?
You’d better grab a drink.
Bronzebeard scandal – yeah, you guessed it.
You two went and straight incest’d it.
Yes you did.
Dagran’s kid?
That tale is kind of fishy.
She went hiding in the depths
While you by arctic winds were swept:
Better dead
Than inbred,
Except you’re not that squishy.
Muradin!
What a sin!
Knocking up your niece.
When he grows,
Has twelve toes:
A conversation piece.
Self-exiled,
So reviled,
Punishment exquisite:
Chaste you’ve kept
(Well, except
When Jaina came to visit).
* * * * *
Tirion the Argent Highlord!
Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.
Truth be told, I cannot afford
Losing this job; so do I dare
Spill the beans on Fordring? Listen—
When we blab, he takes our heads off.
But I see the wine glass glisten—
Top it off once and all bets off.
Just a little more,
Pour it to the brim.
Here’s what you came for:
All the dirt on him.
Holy Light, that man’s insane!
Really, you would never guess it.
Hunting penguins with a cane—
Half the time he’ll even bless it.
Every day he staggers in
Angry-drunk and spewing rage.
Let him spot you, he’ll begin
To curse you out and act deranged.
Did I tell you what he did
The one time Eadric raised his voice?
Let’s just say he can’t have kids:
Eadric’s not “the Pure” by choice.
He steadfastly will refuse
To dine without his lucky mittens;
Mention Arthas, blow his fuse,
And he’ll go set fire to kittens.
If you are a lass
Don’t give him the chance
To grab at your ass.
(He won’t let me wear pants.)
I love the stories that I hear,
All the scandals, sleaze, and strife;
But I swear with Tirion near
I honestly fear for my life.
He’s unstable, he’s a loon,
Loud and lewd with vices diffuse.
Hunting Scourge and hunting poon:
Talk to Jaina. (Daddy issues…)
* * * * *
Honored heir of House of Wrynn,
Varian, where to begin?
Stormwind’s king,
Touchy thing:
Temper, temper, sire.
First Cathedral of the Light,
Robs the coffers, then takes flight.
Just you wait,
Off’ring plate:
Empty. Yep, it’s dire.
Why so angry? Why destroy
The Church he’d served as altar boy?
Years ago,
Don’t you know,
Reading age for Highlights:
Benedictus, pastor then,
Spotted one young Varian,
Oh so sad,
Showed the lad
An early Hour of Twilight.
Ever since then, he’s been damaged;
Bloody miracle he managed
To perform
So was born
A son to House of Wrynn.
Don’t know how hard Tiffin tried;
Virginal king since she died.
Jaina? Nay.
That fine day
Was saved for Anduin.
(Fuck you, Varian.)
* * * * *
No more wine?
Okay, fine.
No more stories, then!
Change your mind?
Till next time!
I’m sure we’ll meet again.
When you pour,
I’ll tell more.
No need to make a fuss.
But don’t fear,
Jaina dear,
That weekend’s between us.
EPIC VERSE!
Monday mailbag
Yeah, I know, just barely sneaking this one in under the wire today, but here we go…
Apologies for the belated response. Last week was my on-call week in the Horde Medical Corps, and we had our hands full keeping those boozehounds off Drek’Thar’s lawn. Came out well, though; we had most of the Lok’Tar, they had most of the Ogar.
Unfortunately, that caused me to miss EarthCon. To answer your question, yes, AE is a hybrid spec. You can find it in the Mechanical Engineering tree, but you have to look. Basically, they’re the guys who build and operate everyone’s flying mounts in Earth Online. It’s a nice spec, with a few serious drawbacks. First, there aren’t very many raiding guilds that can really use it. Which leads to the second drawback: if you get booted from one raiding guild, it can take a while to find another one that’ll take you. I’ve done OK with it, but I’m not sure I’d recommend it. It’s kind of like goblin engineering that way, you should stay clear unless you have a burning desire for it (emphasis on “burning”). That said, the teaser trailer for the next patch looks pretty awesome:
For the rest … yeah, we snooze, we lose. Oh well. As I said, Lor’themar’s not a bad fellow, just mostly useless.
–A Concerned Citizen
Haha, I like that – “We had most of the Lok’Tar, they had most of the Ogar,” that’s a good one. I’ll have to use that sometime.
So the preview video looks pretty cool…also kind of funny how they obviously modeled that rocket on the one that the goblins out at Area 52 have been working on. See, that’s one thing I really enjoy about Earth Online, how they manage to work in all these little references to things in the real world.
I might have to look at the engineer class at some point. Right now I’ve mostly been bouncing between the veterinarian I rolled originally, and the teacher class I made a few weeks ago. I know, I know, it’s just going to take me longer to get to max level if I don’t stick with one toon, but whatever. Have to say the teacher class seems like a high-skill, high-reward kind of thing. Most of the time it just feels like this huge uphill battle, but every so often if you manage to play a sequence really well, you get this huge Charisma buff and can convert some of the student hostiles into minions. Come to think of it, that could be REALLY fun and handy if you could maneuver it just right, and get the buff with a student pack that’s not like the gobliny nerds, but had more of a predisposition toward mischief and violence. Then you could have a really useful bunch of minions! I might have to work on that, it could be fun to have a little army at my disposal…
Also, since you brought him up again, let’s try to keep an eye on Lor’themar just the same. Nice guy or not, there’s something about that guy that doesn’t sit well, and given how things went with the LAST blood elf leader, I’d just as soon be extra careful with him. Oh and also, if you happen to find any powerful ancient magical weapons, don’t show them off to him. Bad enough the arcane crackhead is hanging around the Sunwell these days, last thing we need is to dangle more magic candy in front of him.
Continued thanks for your ongoing good work in Stonetalon. Your efforts will not be forgotten. We will be in contact soon with further updates. Appropriate reimbursement will be forthcoming.
–MGT.
Wait, how did this end up in my e-mail? Grebo’s dead! I buried him right next to Krom’gar. Which is to say, I tossed both their bodies into the same gulch. Fuckers.
Anyway, though, I guess when he died they closed his e-mail account, so I guess maybe it got auto-forwarded to his commanding officer? But that would have been Krom’gar, and he’s…ah. So forwarded again. Fuck, does this mean I’m going to start getting spammed with all their crap? I guess I should print this out and send it to his widow, seems like he had some kind of business venture going on on the side. So on top of everything else he was stirring up in Stonetalon, he was moonlighting to boot. Awesome.
I was just eating a cupcake with the most delightful lemon icing and it made me think of you. Would you like to share the other half of it with me?
Your most devoted admirer,
–Wega
Wait, are you hitting on me? Because first of all, I’m not completely sure from your name if you’re a girl or not, and don’t get me wrong, but I’m not into dudes. Not that there’s anything wrong—wait, what am I saying, there’s TOTALLY something wrong with…never mind. (The Kor’kron lawyers are telling me I have to be more careful about saying stuff like that.) Anyway, second, if you ARE a girl, you’re just going to go making my other mailbag admirers like Uukra jealous. Although…that could have its benefits, too.
So actually, let me put it this way – LEMON SQUARES OR DEATH?
Greetings Garrosh,
Based on all the good things you’ve mentioned, being Warchief sounds like a pretty sweet deal. How does one go about getting the job? And hey, it’s been a while since you’ve treated us to your poetry, surely you’ve been working on something! Can we see?
–Ambitious Near Astranaar
Well, ANA, this is your lucky day. Two birds with one stone, cue the origin cut-away…
Now this is the story all about how
My life got flipped, turned upside down.
And I’d like for you to listen, you won’t be bored.
I’ll tell you how I became the Warchief of the Horde.
In downtown Garadar born and raised,
Fighting ogres is how I spent most of my days.
Fishing with Dranosh every afternoon,
And hunting with Nesingwary ’round Oshu’gun.
When a couple of guys who were flinging some mud
Said Grom hooked the orcs on drinking demon blood.
I spent a few years moping – Greatmother had sass,
She said, “I’m getting Thrall up in here to pull your head out your ass.”
The Warchief rolled in and he showed me the truth:
Mannoroth said “You’re mine,” Grom said “STFU!”
Thrall said, “Stop being emo, you’re gonna go far!”
And I thought yeah man, come on, take me to Orgrimmar!
I pulled up into Durotar, after Northrend I’d hit,
But that’s when all the elements went fucking apeshit.
Thrall went to check it out, that’s when I scored,
And I took up my throne, as Warchief of the Horde.
EPIC VERSE!
Cool things about being Warchief
I recently had someone suggest that I maybe complain about things too much. While I personally think this is a gigantic steaming pile of horseshit, I thought I might try making a point of looking at the positive side of things. So here’s a list of some of my favorite things about being Warchief:
- You know when you’re running up to the zeppelin tower and you can see the zeppelin is there, and you figure there’s no way you’re going to make it in time but you run up the tower as fast as you can anyway, and against all odds it’s still there when you get to the top of the ramp, only in the time it takes you to get from the stairwell to the end of the landing platform the zeppelin it taking off and gets JUST far enough away that you can’t quite jump on? Yeah, well, that still happens. But when the zeppelin comes back again, you can have the pilot executed.
- When somebody pays the goblin dude on your tundra mammoth for repairs, you get a cut. A big cut, if Greeny McEasilykilled knows what’s good for him.
- Even though people seem to be trying to poison you with alarming regularity, you have food tasters to make sure everything you eat is okay. As an extra bonus, you can hand-pick which Alliance prisoners these food tasters are going to be. (I usually pick a gnome if possible. They turn the funniest shade of green just before they croak.) Most of the time, they’re so damn hungry and overjoyed to be getting anything to eat at all, they never even stop to think that anything is up. The looks on their faces – the “Oh SHIT, why the fuck didn’t I THINK of this?!” look – in that moment between the poison kicking in and when they drop dead? Awesome. Totally worth the price of knowing that there are unknown parties trying to kill you who apparently have access to your food.
- According to tauren tribal custom, anytime someone in the Valley of Wisdom bakes a pie, you get the first piece.
- When somebody says, “You’re no Thrall,” you can totally reply, “You’re right, Thrall would never just up and chop off somebody’s foot like that. Oh, I’m sorry, did I break your concentration? Pardon me. Please, let’s resume our critique of my job performance.”
- Due to a little-known technicality, the furbolgs of Timbermaw Hold recognize you as an Archbishop.
- If somebody, say, kills your dad, you can carve the dude’s remains into a throne and set it up in your war room. Think about that. Every time somebody comes to see you, you’re kicking back sitting on a chair made out of the FUCKING SKULL OF THE LAST GUY THAT REALLY PISSED YOU OFF.
- Bearer of the ultimate suck-on-it trump card at class reunions.
- Two words: Kor’kron strippers.
- As a point of honor, Varian has to welcome into his throne room any diplomatic emissaries you decide to send to Stormwind. This might not sound so cool, but it gets real awesome real fast when you make the emissaries eat nothing but beans and asparagus for three days leading up to the visit.
Dismissed
Lok’tar, Warchief, and welcome!
Behold the might of the Horde!
“What have you done?
Lok’tar ogar:
Victory or death?
Where here is the victory?
You were an Overlord, a leader,
Charged with our people’s fate.
This land was yours to preserve, defend,
Now it lays in ruin,
Poisoned with death, and war,
And shame.
You will not outlive the pain you’ve brought,
Or undo the death of dreams.
You will not silence the cries of innocents
That echo still over crackling flames.
No words of yours will heal the broken, burning land,
Or wash your hands of noble tauren blood.
I will not lift this shame from your shoulders.
But the shame is mine to bear as well.
My crime was the first:
I handed you the blade
That you would wield committing yours.
Am I a murderer?
I wasn’t before today.
You knew this day was soon at hand.
I cannot undo your crimes,
But I will not continue mine.
No mounting more upon our grief.
By my right as Warchief,
I relieve you of command.”
Forgive me, Greatmother.
Forgive me, father.
Forgive me, Thrall.
I stand relieved.
[Header image provided by Rades from Orcish Army Knife, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Monday mailbag
Well, I asked for questions, and you all obliged! Let’s have a look at some of this week’s mailbag – actual letters from actual readers!
Me a peon who read your blog. Me like reading words of my great warchief! And now you ask to hear from peons like myself? This what makes warchiefs Garrosh and Thrall great leaders! Me thank you.
You ask for questions from peons. Me have a question me want to ask, but was too scared. Me ask it now though. What happened to your head? When you went to Northrend it look like any other orc head, now it look like your head too small or your jaw too big. Me think you wounded in glorious battle, but never heard story of how.
Also me would like nap break in afternoon but overseer beat me and make work more. Me can has nap break?
–A Tired Peon
First of all, someone remind me to up the Razor Hill education budget next year, before we get another generation of peons grimlocking their way through writing a letter.
Second of all, ATP, the head thing. Yeah, I know. Don’t think I don’t notice the way people stare at me when they drop by Grommash Hold – and for realsies, you’re not fooling anyone, people. Acting like you’re staring in another direction and then glancing over when you think I’m not going to see? Totally not working. So I guess I might as well answer this once and for all.
So I’d like to say this was from some epic battle in Northrend, like me squaring off with Arthas, or even Anub’arak, and maybe having him unleash one of those swarms of locusts on me and they buzzed all over me and crushed my head down or some shit like that. But the truth of the matter is, it wasn’t anything that exciting.
Those of you who were up there in Northrend with me will remember my last operation was at Light’s Hammer just inside the gates of Icecrown Citadel. You might also remember that I spent most of that time hanging out there with Tirion Fordring. Who I’d already had my fill of, by the way, when I went to meet him with Thrall at his stupid-ass tournament place. (Like seriously, isn’t ONE pansy-ass traveling fair enough for the world?) So hopefully you people were all too busy forging your way into the citadel and fighting our enemies like the Horde soldiers that you are…but meanwhile I was stuck back there with Tirion…who pretty much had nothing to do for a good long time but talk. And talk.
On.
And on.
And on.
Like really, do you have ANY idea how blabby he is? The preachiness was bad enough, having to sit there and listen to his EIGHT MILLION AND SEVEN spontaneous sermons to no one in particular about the power of the Light and the need to work together against a common foe, and blah blah blah. But then he started going on for hours on end about his crazy uncle Lucius who used to live down the block from Andorhal, and thought he was King Llane, and caught Deadeye burning down a dwarf settlement in Loch Modan and forced him to retreat by beating him at Parcheesi, until he finally went off the deep end and painted himself blue and spent all his time running around Tirisfal Glades naked chasing bats with a wooden spatula, until the Kirin Tor snapped him up and locked up away in some padded room in Dalaran just to keep him out of trouble for his own good, and now Tirion feels like my day just won’t be complete until he tells me what kind of marmalade he liked to put on his toast in the morning, and I just couldn’t fucking TAKE it anymore.
So I just clamped my hands down over my ears as tight as I could and hummed real loud, and I guess I didn’t know my own strength and got carried away, because the next thing you know I’ve managed to squeeze my own fucking head down a couple helmet sizes. So good job there, me. Fucking Tirion.
Of course I suppose two years of Noggenfogger shampoo didn’t help matters, but that’s a whole other thing.
Speaking of not knowing my own strength…
I’m a warrior in the service of the Horde. I do pretty well on the battlefield, but I feel as though I can do much better. Could you tell me how you became so incredibly strong? Do you have a workout regiment, or did you acquire your amazing might through constantly crushing the enemies of the Horde under your boot?
–Revga, Orgrimmar
All of the above, Revga, all of the above. There’s really no substitute for beating the living shit out of real, live foes. For one thing, you never know what they’re going to try next, so it keeps you on your toes. Plus, you can really push yourself if you can find some real grade-A enemies to take on. Here’s where I think I might have an unfair advantage over a lot of guys, since I grew up in Nagrand. While some of the Horde here in Azeroth get started killing boars and wolves and bats, I got to get my exercise fighting hand to hand with giant fucking gronn and whole villages of ogres.
Besides that, I do have a workout routine that works pretty well for me. First thing in the morning I run a hundred laps around Grommash Hold. While I’m going around I get some extra arm exercise in by slapping the fuck out of all the pansy-ass vendors just standing around doing nothing. Especially Ray’ma, because trolls sound extra funny when you slap them around. Then I drop by the meat vendor (once she’s regained consciousness) and pick up eight pounds of roast boar for my breakfast. Gotta maintain your strength, and the protein’s good for muscle, you know.
After that I jog up by the rear gate of Orgrimmar where we keep all the siege engines, find one that looks pretty stable, and bench press it. Nothing too major, just a couple hundred reps. Then I head over to the arena and spar with some of my Kor’kron personal guards for a couple hours. The ones that live get to keep their jobs.
By that point most days it’s around lunch time, so I put Gorehowl away, hop on a wyvern (MAYBE I’LL TAKE MORTIMER THIS TIME, DEHTA BITCHES – THAT’S RIGHT, I FOUND HIM!), and fly down to Un’goro Crater…taking the scenic route up through Hyjal and Felwood then down around Silithus and through Uldum, of course (BECAUSE MORTIMER NEEDS HIS FUCKING EXERCISE TOO). When I get there I find a couple devilsaurs, beat them to death with my bare hands, drag them over to Fire Plume Ridge, and hold them over the lava till they get a good sear. Then it’s lunch time. When I’m done I head over to the eastern cliff face to get some rock climbing in, and scale my way up into Tanaris. From that point I jog over to the shore and usually drop by the Caverns of Time, or as I like to call them, the Caverns of Did I Beat My Best Time. Right now I’m sitting on 34 seconds. BEAT IT IF YOU CAN. If you don’t believe me, just take it up with Anachronos, he’s usually the one holding the stopwatch, even if it’s kind of a funky-looking melty one. Anyway, from there I jog on over to the shore and get in my afternoon swim. Which in my case means I swim from Tanaris right on back up to Durotar.
So I know what you’re thinking at this point: Wait, Garrosh, you just said you had lunch a little while before this, plus it was devilsaur, and we all know how heavy that can be – isn’t it bad for you to go swimming a short time after you’ve eaten? And the answer is yes, yes it is….IF YOU’RE A GODDAMN FUCKING PANSY.
Once I make it back to Orgrimmar, it’s usually time for afternoon tea.
At that point I usually have some Warchief crap I have to take care of, so that’s about it for the workout. As you can tell, being this awesome is a full-time job. You don’t just get a body like mine for nothing. And speaking of taking an interest in my body…
Heyyyy mighty Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, you don’t know me I’m your biggest fan EVAH!!!
And I’m an orc, and a gal, so please answer me… what color panties do you prefer in a woman? *hint hint nudge nudge*
Your faithful fan & minion
–Uukra the Hallowed
You know, you’d be surprised how often I get questions like this. Like seriously, if it was ANYTHING like this for Thrall, I don’t know why the hell he would want to get married.
So, Uukra, to answer you. When you come right down to it, I’m basically a soldier at heart, so I’m going to put this to you in military terms. One word: commando. 😉
I mean, I know that’s how I roll.
Yes, you read that right. Soak up THAT mental image. You’re welcome.
Since you mentioned Jaina Proudmoore in your post about Thrall’s wedding, and I figure you must be in the know, I just have to ask about those two. You know what I’m talking about. Did Thrall ever, um, you know?
–Grimgore, Orgrimmar
Jaina? Oh, geez, dude, who HASN’T?
Other than Lor’themar. Obvious reasons.
That’s it for this week, but keep those letters and questions coming! YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS THEM!
Okay, calming down now…
So I think I might have gotten a little carried away last time about the internet thing. It’s been pretty stressful what with the war with the Alliance and the war with Deathwing and the war with the Twilight’s Hammer and the war with Ragnaros and the search for more people to go to war with. I keep getting these reports about spies and so I think I’m probably worrying about people pulling sneaky shit more than I need to. I mean the Thrall thing was probably some stupid random prank and it’s not something I should really be worrying about and I’m sure most people on these blog things are who they say they are because it would be really fucking stupid for people to pretend they’re something they’re not on the internet.
Anyway I’m done freaking out now so I should be back to more normal, level-headed posts like you’re used to.
AN ATROCITY AGAINST YOUR WARCHIEF’S MAILBAG!!!
RAAARRRR I am so full of rage I could probably execute crit sextuple digits if I knew what sextuple meant and crit meant and digits meant, but I’m still really fucking angry!!!
Because APPARENTLY, the last letter I posted in Monday’s mailbag was NOT actually from Thall!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT!!! See! See! THIS is why I don’t trust these blog things! Can you believe people can just write stuff and say they’re somebody that they’re not?! That is totally messed up! OMG someone could even totally write stuff on this internet thing and say that they’re ME and they could totally get away with it!!!
ANGERRRRR!!!!!!!!
Monday mailbag
Running a little late today, I know, but here’s a few of this week’s letters…
I hope this missive finds you well. Your delightful and inspiring blog was recently brought to my attention, and I felt compelled to write to express my deepest appreciation. I can see now why Thrall so wisely saw fit to appoint you as his successor. With such a keen intellect at the helm, I have little doubt that we shall prevail against our foes.
I am particularly touched by your recent comments on my defense of Silvermoon. While I am saddened to see that you still harbor reservations about my loyalty and commitment, I can assure you that the good of the Horde is forefront in my thoughts, and further assure – nay, stress – that no further…shall we say…indiscretions are forthcoming. I cannot, in fact, emphasize this point enough. There is truly nothing for you to concern yourself with, and, as such, I can further assure you that there is no need for you to waste valuable time checking up on the goings-on in, say, Silverpine Forest or Gilneas. With so many Horde outposts in need of your sage attention, it would pain me to know that we Forsaken were needlessly occupying your valuable time. So, once again, no need to visit Silverpine. Really. Don’t you worry your dear, most interestingly proportioned head over it.
Also, loathe though I am to impose upon the Warchief’s attention, might I request, at your next opportunity, that you have a word or two with the most honorable Captain Bloodfist, of the Kor’kron detachment generously assigned to aid in the defense of my beloved Undercity? Skillful military tactician though I’m sure he is, I cannot help but notice over these past several months that he persists in…looking at me. In…ways that are starting to make me feel rather uncomfortable.
–Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Undercity
Oh crap, I think I’m about to have more forms to fill out.
Although…I mean, seriously, do you ever look at the way you dress?
Anyway. It’s nice to see Sylvanas coming around a little. Like I said a couple weeks ago, I really did have my doubts about her, but it really seems like she’s pulling herself together these days. Nice to know I don’t have to worry too much about her, it’s not like I don’t have enough on my mind already these days.
HAHAHA! That’s it, laddy, put them DEHTA pantywaists in their place! Ye know, they keep tellin’ all their recruits they’re me archenemy. At least that’s what they say – I haven’t seen ’em dare come near me themselves! But at least they talk a good game. Ye notice, though, they keep tryin’ to recruit people to run errands for them, but they still only have six members, so good on ye, lads, fine job retainin’ yer recruits!
If any of ye DEHTA types are readin’ this, I’ll raise me stein and have a drink to yer health…and use it to wash down the goodly feast of assorted Northrend meats I went out and killed fresh today! Ye know where to find me if ye ever grow a pair!
–Hemet Nesingwary, Sholazar Basin
I don’t really have a lot to say here. This just made me happy! Good to hear from you, Hemet, it’s been a while! For anyone who doesn’t know, Hemet used to hang out in Nagrand, so I used to go hunting with him sometimes. Hey Hemet, remember that time we were hunting Banthar, and that damn Durn the Hungerer came sneaking up behind us? Like how does he DO that anyway? How does a 50 foot tall giant gronn just SNEAK UP on you like that??
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
Seriously? Clefthoof stew? And not only ENCOURAGING people to eat clefthoof stew, when there are many far healthier, less murder-requiring dietary options available, but GLORYING in your choice to make such food out of a CRUELLY BETRAYED friend and companion of your childhood?
You really are determined to evoke the wrath of D.E.H.T.A., aren’t you?
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Oh no. THE WRATH OF DEHTA! WHAT-EVER WILL I DO. Hey, news flash, Lather-on-us, the whole time I was up there in Northrend, there was only one person whose “wrath” I ever concerned myself with at all, and guess what, it wasn’t you, or any of your whiny druid friends.
I already wasted enough time on you guys last week, but looks like Hemet might have a few choice words for you. YOU REMEMBER HIM, RIGHT? THE ARCHENEMY you guys were going to PUT IN HIS PLACE, and you sure as hell did, provided by “in his place” you meant “at the dinner table, feasting on a spread of barbecued, stewed, and roasted shoveltusk, woolly rhino, mammoth, and worg.” Yum!
I know you be tinkin’ I be supportin’ you as my replacement as Warchief, but I really only gave ya da job to prove to you an’ everybody what a failure you’d be at it. Ever since you came to Orgrimmar you been actin’ like you be knowin’ how to run tings better dan me, so I figured I be givin’ you enough rope to hang yourself. Not to mention dis way when I come back everybody will be so happy to be rid of you dat dey’ll tink I’m even more of a hero. Like seriously mon, you got no idea how much all de other leaders be missin’ me. After you, all I’ll have to do is walk in a straight line without droolin’ on meself an’ it’ll be an improvement, mon. P.S. You smell.
—Bob Trall, Echo Isles
WHAT!!! OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THRALL WOULD SAY THAT WTF!!!! And WTF is he doing in the Echo Isles I thought he was supposed to be in the Maelstrom or Mount Hyjal or wherever the fuck he is that’s not here!!!
AND I DO NOT SMELL WTF!!!
WTF!!
THRALL GOT MARRIED?!
So I KNEW something was going on with him and Aggralan. I even tried warning him it wouldn’t be a good idea, seeing as I remembered her from Nagrand, and I mean she’s okay and everything, when she dies she’s going right to the honored dead, but holy crap the spirits are going to have their hands full with the yap yap YAP. Preachiest bitch this side of Rhonin, let me tell you. Not that he listened to me anyway. But whatever.
But MARRIED? The FUCK, dude?! And I don’t get invited?! FUCKING ANTLERS McBEARDYFACE GETS A FRONT-ROW SEAT, and I don’t even get a fucking wedding announcement? Hell, not even Antlers – his high priestess chick too?! TELL ME WHAT SOUNDS WRONG HERE: “Thrall is getting married today and a grand total of ONE racial leader will be in attendance…and that one is FUCKING ALLIANCE”!!
Oh, wait, hold up a second, you want to know how I even FOUND OUT about this? WHEN ALL THE FUCKING WEDDING GIFTS STARTED POURING INTO GROMMASH HOLD BECAUSE YOUR DAMN FORWARDING ADDRESS EXPIRED!! How’s THAT for a fucking kick in the nuts? “Oh, look, someone sent me a Foreman Thazz’ril Mean Lean Goblin Barbeque Machine, that’s really cool, oh wait, it’s addressed to Thrall, ‘Congratulations on your union, may you and Aggra enjoy a lifetime of joy’, the FUCK?!”
Not to mention, dude, I don’t even get to throw you a fucking bachelor party? Have you never BEEN to Silvermoon??
P.S. Note to Jaina Proudmoore, on the off chance she can see this: HAH! Suffer!
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
Monday mailbag
So first of all, thanks to the people who showed their support over my trip to Grom’s monument in Demon Fall Canyon. Also Spazzle was helpful getting the pictures up on the blog, because for some reason he wasted all kinds of timing learning how to do dorky stuff like that while he was tinkering around with all the weird gadgets those goblins keep piling up in the Valley of Spirits.
As one last tribute to the whole experience, I decided to write something up to commemorate my father’s sacrifice and Thrall’s first trip to Nagrand, when he showed me what had really gone down with Mannoroth.
There once was an orc from Nagrand
Who by chance, luckily, was on hand
For the Warchief’s arrival,
With glamors archival,
Fuck you, Varian.
To reveal Grom’s last glorious stand.
EPIC VERSE!
On to this week’s mail.
I was just wondering if I’ve unintentionally done something to cause offense among the other Horde leaders. I’ve noticed that I don’t seem to be receiving summons to any of the summit meetings you hold with the other faction leaders, and for that matter, other than Sylvanas, none of the others have returned any of my messages.
–Lor’themar Theron, Silvermoon City
Wait, who are you again? Lor’themar? Isn’t that the dude Orgrim Doomhammer killed at Blackrock Mountain like forever ago? You’re still alive WTF? Oh wait a minute – Silvermoon, you must be that blood elf leader. Didn’t we kill you after you went all crazy and tried to summon Kil’jaeden and shit? OH HANG ON, you blood elves have a HISTORY of not staying dead, don’t you? Oh fuck, here we go again, we’ve got another blood elf zombie running around. Just what we need. Someone get Saurfang in on this shit before this one goes all Keleseth on us.
You know how much I can be sellin’ dese for? [Warglaive of Azzinoth] [Warglaive of Azzinoth]
–Bob, Echo Isles
Oh geez, here we go again. WELCOME TO FIVE YEARS AGO, idiot. You can’t sell those, moron, because IF you ever got them in the first place, they would have magically bound to you when you took them off Illidan’s corpse, LIKE YOU WERE ONE OF THE ONES WHO KILLED ILLIDAN in the first place! And who cares about those anyway, seeing as we’ve got bigger and better things to be thinking of at this point, because it’s not THREE YEARS AGO! AND BEFORE YOU E-MAIL ME AGAIN, no, you also can’t sell [Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker].
Um, dude, seriously? The poetry blogging thing is totally my deal. Find your own gimmick, will you?
–Sargeras, Twisting Nether
WHY DON’T YOU COME MAKE ME! You heard me! I’m right here, you want to make something of it, come get me!
Yeah, I bet we won’t be hearing from him again. Not for, like, a few years anyway.
Finally, this message arrived in the form of a comment on Spazzle’s post from a few days ago, but I thought it merited a response here:
Dear Warchief,
I am an 8 year old forsaken mage and I have a question for you. Is there honor left in the horde? My friends (also forsaken) all say that there is no honour, only plague, valkrys and undeath. Sylvanus says to believe what you see and she saw only darkness when the bad man godfrey killed her. Please tell me the truth, is there honour in the horde? (even for forsaken?)
–Pluton, undead mage
Honor, Pluton. No matter how dire the battle, never forsake it.
Varok Saurfang taught me that when we served together in Northrend. His words have never left my thoughts, and I think they’re especially fitting here. Your people may call themselves the Forsaken, but it’s not really so. You are not forsaken. Honor does not forsake us. We forsake it…and as long as we don’t, it won’t either.
I’ll be honest with you. I’ve always had my doubts about the undead, and about Sylvanas in particular. I worry that she has her own agenda. I wonder how loyal she truly is to the Horde. Ever since the siege of the Undercity, I’ve had nagging doubts about just how much of Putress’s plan was really going on without her knowing. There’s a reason why I’m keeping a Kor’kron detachment there. (And no, Bragor, I’m still not giving you a three-day pass. Seriously. You can stop with the damn e-mails.)
But I’ll tell you this, too: If you’re finding yourself worrying about whether there’s honor left for you as a Forsaken, then you already have your answer.
Men without honor do not agonize over losing it.
Sylvanas was right about one thing. You do have to trust what you see. I see a Horde made up of races – every one of them – who have endured unspeakable losses, suffered horrifying pain…and carry on, bending but not breaking, holding up their heads the best they can. I see Thrall and Cairne – every day as if they were still in front of my eyes – fighting through burning ruins to save the children of blood elves they’ll never know.
Yes, we Horde have had our share of dishonorable names. But for every Gul’dan, we have an Eitrigg. For every Magatha Grimtotem, there’s a Cairne. And then there’s my father, Grommash…the worst of us, and the greatest of us. He was the first to drink Mannoroth’s demon blood and doom the orcs to slavery…and the one to buy back our freedom with his own life. A reminder for all of us that honor never really leaves us. It only lays dormant until we reclaim what was always ours.
Even for Sylvanas. Somewhere inside that…unscrupulous shell, there’s a elven ranger general who stood alone between the Scourge and the fall of her people, and cut down legions of undead before laying down her life. A spirit so strong that not even the Lich King could break it, so strong that she willed her violated people to the closest semblance of freedom left for them. If that freedom is a pale imitation of living, then it’s also the last, best gift Windrunner had to give, however paltry it may have been. If what Sylvanas has become has cost her her soul – if darkness really is all the awaits her – then that should only magnify her sacrifice…because everything she’s become is the price she willingly paid for her people.
I hope someday she can find some piece of what made her one of the greatest of her kind. I’m just not holding my breath.
UGH…that was hard. HEAD HURTS. Remind me not to do that again. And dammit, did I actually just talk myself into respecting Sylvanas? Crap.
Anyway, I still have to talk about the rest of the Ashenvale stops, plus I’ve got to start getting ready for some more of these inspections. Dammit, I don’t know why I even bother unpacking. More soon.
