Tag Archives: tyrande whisperwind

Monday mailbag

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Okay, time to dip into the ol’ mailbag. You all know how this works, so here we go…

 

Dear Warchief,

Thank you so much for your generous response. Lyssa was so happy that she got a little frisky, which always makes me happy, you know what I mean. 😉 (She is a cat most of the time, after all.) I sympathize with your frustrations due to expenditures- having been a mother myself once (back when I was still “alive”, though not anymore, may the Goddess curse that human Arthas), I know all about the kinds of bills teens can ring up. (You really do need huge heaping mounds of gold. Like, a dragon’s hoard worth.)

In appreciation, please find enclosed your very own PMS device. It is soft and fluffy and purrs very convincingly, and it may prove a distraction for Shayari as well, if she likes kittens. (Especially if it is wearing a bow or ribbons.)

PMS? That stands for Personal Mylune Survival device. Why? What did you think it meant?

In any event, having been told that the idiot human Varian sometimes reads these letters and your responses, I have a message for him.

Varian- Fuck you! You are a moron- when a ten-thousand year old-plus matriarch (that means ruler) of an entire race of people (two, if you count my ancestors) nods and asks you to tell her what to do, she is NOT SERIOUS, she is MOCKING YOU. Do you really think that you have seen more combat, acquired more experience, discovered more tactics, and learned more strategy than her in all her years? She even only tolerates Malfurion (on the rare occasions when he stops napping) because his furry bear feet keep her toes warm- she has plenty of other options in a nation where the men usually and regularly go into comas for centuries.

From TWO Elven nations: FUCK YOU, VARIAN! (Also, I think Mylune would be a perfect wife for you. Or maybe Magatha.)

(Apologies to you, Dear Warchief, I’ll try to keep it shorter next time, if there is one)

–Sintra E’Drien (and her mate Lyssa Nightblossom)

ps. Thalassian Brandy tastes very good. 😉

Hey again, Sintra. Okay, so you know what? There were a bunch of things in this letter that I was going to respond to, but they all kind of got lost in this big blur of FUCK YOU, VARIAN. Especially the part about Tyrande Who’s-Her-Whisper actually mocking ol’ King Ponytail when he thinks he’s being all badass and shit. And the part about him being a moron. And the part about him getting paired off with Mylune. Mind you, if miracles of entertainment happened and Varian DID get himself hitched to Mylune, we’d have to make sure that nobody hooked him up with one of those PMS devices, because we can’t rob ourselves of the hilarity by letting Varian distract her with something small and furry. Plus, trust me, I’ve met Varian — dude has enough PMS all by himself, without anybody sending him the anti-Mylune device.

Although, this does occur to me, there might be a market in developing a line of anti-whoever gear. Like the Mylune one is a no-brainer — make something small and furry that makes cutesy purring noises, then when you see Mylune, toss it one direction and get your ass moving in another. Golden. But you could totally market a bunch of these. Like you could build an anti-Tirion device that’s like a mannequin with a face that looks all interested, that plays a recording of someone going “Tell me more! I want to hear all about it!” Or you could do an anti-Velen device that’s just a big sign that says “Burning Legion invading — planetary exit this way!” Or you could do an anti-Magatha device that basically consists of Gorehowl chopping her into little tiny pieces because fuck her.

Obviously, I’m just spitballing here.

Oh, and also: agreed on the Thalassian Brandy.

 

Greetings, Warchief, and Light’s blessing to you!

As that last letter caused quite a stir, what with a possible war on my hands, as well as having to use an ink substitute (it’s scorpion poison, so don’t lick it!) I’m afraid that I cannot convey quite as much information onto you as I would like. But, as literal a lady as I may be, I have picked up the hints and I have no doubt that this is exceptionally great news to you! Nonetheless, I still have time to explain the situation before I begin.

I have my ways and means regarding paper, the first being the nearby logging camp. Did you know that place was infested with spiders quite a bit, recently? Now, I am a woman of few fears, and I am hesitant to say that spiders are among those few fears. They just have too many legs. The natives of Azeroth have proven that only two is necessary! Not to mention they have no real function other than devour more threatening prey, but even so, that’s disgusting and they are as good as abberations to me. Nonetheless, the spiders have been vanquished and our lumber is safe again! Not that it never was, of course. I simply no longer fear strolling down and requesting more wood for paper! Since the Kal’dorei have no authorities over the wood in the Western Plaguelands, I think I shouldn’t have to worry too much about a war. As a precaution, I asked both my lovely Anaria Moonseeker and Miss L’Rayne why the forests were so sacred to them. They both laughed and I never really got my answer. Of course, we were all after a few cups at the time, so I might try approaching them again when we’re sober. Nothing against my fellow Crusader or my sweet lady, not to mention the woman who raised me, but Night Elves are a peculiar people. Mind you, if they started ravaging Eversong Woods, I’d be miffed. I also am aware that this may draw the Night Elves’ attention back to yourself, but I’m sure you have the means to deal with it. After all, there are several Horde leaders but only one Warchief!

As for the scorpion poison, well, there are ways of compressing that to make it more visible on paper. It’s the same colour as the ink that I used before, thanks to a solution Anaria prepared, but it can still be toxic if you were to eat it. Since I’ve used it quite finely, you may simply experience some disorientation or sickness, but I don’t see that that being a problem, unless you eat paper. I just thought I’d let you in on that, in case you DID eat paper. Who am I to judge the Warchief’s culinary preferences? This piece of paper would be better off being tucked away and not eaten. I still have a fine stock of that scorpion poison, so now it’s only a matter of keeping the lumber mill going! I thought that this would be sufficient as a substitute for the ink that is slowly becoming less obtainable. I hope that the lovely young shaman Rue’kara can get her stationaries back soon! How unfortunate that her own letters are limited to such a pulp. She probably has so much to say, poor child. Anyhow! That’s that, and all problems solved!

It would seem a certain metal-beared goblin had quite a bit to say regarding my letters to you, sir. I, for one, am irate, but the ways of the Light have taught me that anger and resentment will only lead to a manifestation of regret and ever-building hatred, so I will bury the hatchet for now and try not to reference said goblin while the Light grants me the strength to repress such hatred. While this anger is still surging mightily, I have to agree on one point that he made; I haven’t really been of much help, have I?

Well, even though I was not present, I know of your visits to Hearthglen through the town chatter, even though I was oblivious of the events that were taking place. See, I was travelling at the time, which I tend to do every few months or so, and when I came back, I did notice a sort of difference. A kind of hush, as though I’d just arrived after a tragic event had taken place. I felt inclined to ask the Highlord, and I did, but even he was at a loss for words, and that is truly saying something. I mean, really. Time travel is…something I am somewhat familiar with. That being said, I know of a bronze dragon, although the identity is to be kept secret for her sake. I haven’t actually travelled backwards through time, nor forwards, but I visited the Caverns of Time, and I saw some of the rifts here and there pulling and tugging, as though the place felt a turn when I entered it. Somehow, I feel slightly connected to it. It’s a sensation that I cannot describe well, but there’s a familiarity about it that I am trying to make sense of, as though I’d been there before. Maybe an alternate me? Wow, I wonder what she does for a living. My bronze friend gave me a little information on how time works, and how she’s travelled on it previously, but as you may have learned, bronze dragons are as cryptic as any old soothsayer or rambling prophet, (which is extremely annoying since they might actually have ANSWERS for us, whereas prophets just ramble on and on and on…) and since I can’t get any answers from her regarding that particular feeling, I have dropped the matter entirely and haven’t been there since. Still, I’ve never stopped wondering…

While this is irrelevant to what you and this doctor Faranell you mentioned had to experience, I simply want to extend a warning, given everything I have learned thus far through my readings of history. The Old Gods corrupted one Aspect, Deathwing, but he was not the only one that was used to their advantage. The Old Gods want nothing more than to see our world in endless agony, and so they invaded Nozdormu’s realm and succeeded in opening a rift in time, so that they could alter the events of the War of the Ancients and give the dark lord, Sargeras, a fresh attempt to enter the world. If not for the efforts of Malfurion Stormrage, these cursed entities would have succeeded, and Azeroth would have been lost to madness. The Bronze Dragonflight are a mighty race, sir, but we all have our weaknesses, even Nozdormu himself. Had he suspected such a travesty, he surely would have prevented it.

We know that there are multiple timelines out there, and we know that, without the assistance of the Bronze Dragonflight, the events of the entwined timeways wouldn’t have been resolved. Be wary, good sir. You must place your trust in those you know can be trusted, and no-one else. If the Bronze Dragonflight fell to the same corruption as Neltharion, our world would be undone as you know it. After all, Algalon had already decided that it wasn’t worth saving. Let us prove him wrong. Let us protect Azeroth as best we can.

With regards to being of any use to you, I’d merely have you know that I do not plan on leaving Hearthglen for quite some time, so should you decide to make a visit in the meantime, know that I shall stand at your service and grant you the hospitality which you seek. It’s the least I can do. Thank you for your time.

P.S Did you really get a Zandaliri troll to perform a lapdance for you? How much did it cost?

Go in peace, good sir.

–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade

Hoo boy. Here we go.

Hello again, Sarlin. Nice to…hear from you. Again.

As that last letter caused quite a stir,

As in, people stirring up poisonous drinks to kill themselves with.

what with a possible war on my hands,

Well, you know, the many, many trees you’ve wiped out to make paper were only going to take so much.

as well as having to use an ink substitute (it’s scorpion poison, so don’t lick it!)

I really wonder what you think I do with my time that you felt this warning was necessary.

I’m afraid that I cannot convey quite as much information onto you as I would like.

Oh thank the spirits. Maybe we’ll manage to be in and out of here in less than a month.

Nonetheless, I still have time to explain the situation before I begin.

Well, so much for that idea. Here we go, kids. Grab a drink, and maybe a snack, and maybe the next two or three days’ meals, and strap in.

Did you know that place was infested with spiders quite a bit, recently? Now, I am a woman of few fears, and I am hesitant to say that spiders are among those few fears. They just have too many legs. The natives of Azeroth have proven that only two is necessary!

Dude, I fucking hate spiders. They’re all gross and crawly and, like you said, they have way more legs than any self-respecting person should ever have, and let’s not even get started on the eyes. I fucking hate things with creepy extra eyes. Plus there was that time up in Stonetalon when the head troll dude in Malaka’jin told me there was some Queen Silith who wanted to meet with me, only GUESS WHAT, turns out she was this GIANT FUCKING SPIDER. LONG LIVE THE FUCKING QUEEN. Except for the part where I killed her.

As a precaution, I asked both my lovely Anaria Moonseeker and Miss L’Rayne why the forests were so sacred to them. They both laughed and I never really got my answer.

It’s the glitter. Night elves love them some glitter, and the trees in their forests leak the stuff like sap. Someday I want to find out just what the fuck is the deal with that, like what kind of trees ooze fucking GLITTER out of their bark, and why they only seem to grow around nigh elves.

I mean, I’m pretty sure Thalassian Brandy would like to know. She could have a personal supply of the stuff right there on hand.

As for the scorpion poison, well, there are ways of compressing that to make it more visible on paper. It’s the same colour as the ink that I used before, thanks to a solution Anaria prepared, but it can still be toxic if you were to eat it. Since I’ve used it quite finely, you may simply experience some disorientation or sickness, but I don’t see that that being a problem, unless you eat paper.

Wait… disorientation? You mean to say you can be HIGH on this shit? No wonder there are always so many trolls always hanging around the inscription place in the Drag.

I hope that the lovely young shaman Rue’kara can get her stationaries back soon! How unfortunate that her own letters are limited to such a pulp. She probably has so much to say, poor child.

Yeah, you know what? I think you’ve got the “so much to say” pretty well covered. Let’s not drag Ruekie into this.

It would seem a certain metal-beared goblin had quite a bit to say

Hi, pot. This is Sarlin. You’re black.

I, for one, am irate, but the ways of the Light have taught me that anger and resentment will only lead to a manifestation of regret and ever-building hatred,

The next time you two chat, could you ask the Light what the fuck it’s talking about?

I have to agree on one point that he made; I haven’t really been of much help, have I?

Oh geez, why do I get the feeling she’s about to start Dontragging? Like, even more?

I was travelling at the time, which I tend to do every few months or so, and when I came back, I did notice a sort of difference. A kind of hush, as though I’d just arrived after a tragic event had taken place. I felt inclined to ask the Highlord, and I did, but even he was at a loss for words, and that is truly saying something. I mean, really.

STOP THE FUCKING PRESSES, SHOCKING NEWS WITH AN IRONIC LOOK-WHO’S-TALKING CHASER

I haven’t actually travelled backwards through time, nor forwards, but I visited the Caverns of Time, and I saw some of the rifts here and there pulling and tugging, as though the place felt a turn when I entered it. Somehow, I feel slightly connected to it. It’s a sensation that I cannot describe well, but there’s a familiarity about it that I am trying to make sense of, as though I’d been there before. Maybe an alternate me? Wow, I wonder what she does for a living.

I’ll bet you anything she’s not a mime.

We know that there are multiple timelines out there, and we know that, without the assistance of the Bronze Dragonflight, the events of the entwined timeways wouldn’t have been resolved. Be wary, good sir.

Dude, are you seriously giving ME a speech on not getting mixed up in timeline fuck-uppery? Hey, I’ve got an idea, how about I get Faranell in here and you can give him a whole speech about making sure he doesn’t get himself unstuck in time for like a zillion years. Earth Online says hello:

wonka

With regards to being of any use to you, I’d merely have you know that I do not plan on leaving Hearthglen for quite some time,

Well at least I know where not to go for the next month or two.

Thank you for your time.

Well you fucking well burned up enough of it.

Speaking of which. When you write back — BECAUSE I KNOW YOU WILL — you are officially getting the modified Twitter treatment. Are you reading carefully? Go grab some of your not-for-snack-time paper and scorpion ink, and write this down: YOU ARE OFFICIALLY ON A 250-WORD LIMIT FOR ALL FUTURE LETTERS. Or, what the hell, if you want to go OVER 250 words, whatever, knock yourself out, but I am going to STOP READING at word #250. Are we clear on this? Are we good? Okay? Good.

Fucking hell. I don’t get paid enough for this job. I really don’t.

 

Most Honored Warchief,

Greetings once again Warchief Hellscream. I come bearing ill tidings from Towlong Steppes. I was out leading some of your Horde adventurers through and giving them a Lay of the land while on the way for clean up duty on the Isle of Thunder. Along the way, we passed by a giant eel, G’nathus. The undead warrior and orc shaman decided that it might be a bit of fun to go and test themselves against such a creature. I agreed, if only to keep them alive against such a beast. At first, it seemed to go very well. The warrior took electrocution like nothing I had ever seen before! Then a squid came from nowhere and decided to see if my totems were filled with beer (they’re keg-shaped, you see)! That sadly broke all my concentration and we were forced to flee, but not without some injuries. The poor shaman was smacked around, almost worse than the warrior! Thank the Celestials for ahnks, by the way!

Before this old man babbles for too much longer, I must regretfully inform you that the Shado-Pan has decided to bill the Horde for the loss of precious reagents and my totems. Not that I require the financial compensation, but Lord Zhu insists! Really! He started going on about the outsiders bringing ruin to our land again. It is a very…tiring speech.

Regretfully yours,

–Shen Wei Pureblossom

You do not get to talk about “tiring speeches” immediately after Sarlin’s letter.

That said… Hang on, you mean I’m getting stuck with ANOTHER bill? Is this how things work for that panda-Tirion Zhu guy? Something happens that you don’t like, so you ring up an itemized list to send along to whoever you can? Not to mention, I just finished LOOKING OVER the aforementioned itemized list, and are you fucking KIDDING me? What are your totems fucking MADE of, diamonds?! I thought they were listing the price in coppers when I saw that shit. What the fuck is the exchange rate down there? Does 500 gold mean something different to you people than it does up here? Did you fucking switch to the metric system or some shit? WTF?!

And let’s not even get STARTED on the reagents! I’m going over this list, and there is LITERALLY nothing on here that I can’t walk over to the Valley of Wisdom and buy for pocket change. DON’T BELIEVE ME, COME ON BY. DISCOUNT ANKHS ON ME.

Actually.

Hang on.

It just occurred to me — if this invoice of yours even REMOTELY resembles the actual prices of reagents down there in Pandaria, and it’s not just Zhu’s-his-face gouging me with like an 8000% markup, this might be an opportunity to put a dent in the ol’ Shayari-induced cash flow problem. Because if I can buy this shit HERE for like 20 silver a pop, then bring it on down to Pandaria and sell it to you pandas for a hundred times that, and STILL be way below Scarf Boy’s asking price… Hmm…

Spirits help me, I’m starting to think like a goblin. CONGRATULATIONS, UNIVERSE, YOU WIN AGAIN.

Meanwhile… you mean to say, you were going about your business, and a fucking SQUID came swimming over just to try to dip into your keg totems? What kind of a fucking dumbass squid is that? Is it some kind of Dontrag squid? Because that seems like something he would do. Or Utvoch. Whichever one of them it is. Maybe the other one was the eel or something. Eelvoch, maybe. Ellvoch and Dontrag-the-Squid. Why the fuck not. Seems to match up brainpower-wise.

 

Hey, Garry.

I’m Valinora. Don’t ask any questions. I’m here for one thing and one thing only; EPIC VERSE.

I had a scroll through the mailbags and I saw a little introduction suggested by one of your readers. Hope you don’t mind if I do the same. By the way, you OWNED Varian. I dare you to go up against Thrall next time. Hate that guy. He didn’t steal anybody’s bacon, he stole all their pigs, forced them to make the bacon and then claimed to have made it himself. Ugh.

Anyway. A topic that I’m sure you’ll have no hesitation with, given your…knowledge of felweed.

“By now, he had one joint too many,”

Go!

–Valinora “Lightshorn”, Stormwind City.

Oh, hey, check it — somebody who gets right to the point. It’s like you’re the anti-Sarlin or something. First off, though:

notgarry2

Now granted, you didn’t exactly endear yourself to me with the Garry thing (and I mean, seriously, people, isn’t it getting old at this point? Even the basic campfire joke fizzled out faster than this) (Get it? Campfire? Fizzled out? BA DUM BUM), and plus there’s the small matter that you appear to be HUMAN. On the other hand, you DID get to the point of your letter before wiping out enough trees to render hundreds of poor disadvantaged night elf strippers glitterless, and then you topped that off by having the good sense to know a good ol’ EPIC VERSE thrashing of King Vajayjay when you see it. Additional kudos for getting a good jab in at Thrall, because man oh man has HE been on a one-way trip to Insufferable City. Dude might as well take his vainglorious ass over to the vaingloryhole and fucking blow himself there, at the rate he’s going.

Anyway, you got to the point, you delivered a good burn on EACH side of the faction divide, and what the hell, I’m not one to pass up a chance to lay down a little EPIC VERSE. So here we go. YOU ASK, GARROSH DELIVERS.

By now, he had one joint too many.
(Point of fact, he’d gone over by twenty.)
Came down with giggle fits,
Would have lost all his wits,
If to start with he’d even had any.

In his stupor he thought he’d go swimming,
With a head that with felweed was brimming;
So he and his buddy —
Whose mind, too, was muddy —
Jumped in while their dimwits were dimming.

So in their felweed-fueled delusion,
They swam off to sea in seclusion;
They went round and round,
And when they were found,
They managed to cause more confusion:

I don’t know how much felweed they did,
But one moron thought he was a squid,
While his buddy, with zeal,
Thought that he was an eel,
While around in the waters they slid.

So when they encountered bystanders,
They thought that they’d caught a gander
Of a beer-party kegger,
So up like a beggar,
The stupid squid chose to meander.

He made a big mess seeking brew,
Now I’m stuck with the bill for those two.
I’m pissed off, but whatever —
You know you can’t ever
Spell “dumbass” without D and U.

You asked for some rhymes, so I wrote ’em,
About morons who smashed up some totems.
They’re going to need hearses —
At least some good nurses,
’Cause they’re gonna get stabbed in their scrotums.

EPIC VERSE!

 

Okay, that’s going to do it for this time. As always, keep those letters coming!

 

[Next mailbag December 7! E-mail the Warchief using the link at the top of the right sidebar, or use the handy form below:]

 

Sibling rivalry (with an AA rhyme scheme)

It’s still Friday somewhere, right? Right…?

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EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

ILLIDAN STORMRAGE

VS.

MALFURION STORMRAGE

BEGIN!

MALFURION:

The horn has sounded, and I’ve come as promised
To confront at my calmest the storm that rages upon us;
I’ll take no joy in this, brother, and I’ll spare you the gallows,
But I’ll drop you down so hard you’ll find the Barrow Deeps shallow.
You were always a black sheep, but you took it deeper:
Betrayed our peeps to demons like you were some fel grim reaper.
I dreamt the dream of the sleeper; you daydreamed like a creeper:
Leering at your sister-in-law even without any peepers.

ILLIDAN:

You foolish furry, Furion, you know nought of what you’ve wrought,
For even my blind eyes can see what seeing eyes cannot.
Now I’m dropping verbal blades, and it’s time to end charades;
You portrayed me as Betrayer – nay, ’twas I who was betrayed!
Just the same, before you stand there spouting off “disloyal” slander,
Maybe you shouldn’t just stand there when a Horde raid stomps Tyrande.
And while you dozed, one never knows if I received a conjugal visit –
Oh yes, you’ll scoff…but it’s a thought you can’t simply dismiss, now is it?

MALFURION:

When you reached down in the well, you must have fished that witless jest.
Maiev may be naught without you, but without you, you are less.
You sold your soul to demons, now to all persona non grata;
You were once an epic hero – now you’re a warglaive piñata.
Rejected, hated, friendless; and remember, when you go
Brooding on your skull of Gul’dan: you know him not, Horatio.
Slither off now to your naga; take the loss here that you’re due –
But based on Arthas, I suppose you’ll think you won this battle, too.

ILLIDAN:

You were always quick to lecture with your arrogance arthurian;
Here, have seven vials of shut the fuck up and hush, Malfurion!
Sold out? I used the Legion for the power I’d inherit;
I may now be half demon, but you’re at least a quarter ferret.
Alas, your beard – and facial hair – don’t have anyone fooled.
Now I hope you’ve taken rhyming notes, for Sha’do’s getting schooled.
You’ve had enough? Now shift to fraidy-cat and run off scared,
For I declare, brother, in this battle you were not prepared.

WHO WON?

WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!

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EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

 

[Next Friday…the Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge bonus-edition finale! (Who will it be? Who’s to say?! GET YOUR SUGGESTIONS IN EARLY! And…I promise… some overdue for-real for-real posts between then and now!]

 

West Azeroth Story

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Barnes walks onstage and a spotlight appears over him.

BARNES: Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this evening’s presentation! Tonight we explore a tale of forbidden love! But beware, for not all love stories end happily. As you may find out, sometimes love pricks like a thorn. But don’t take it from me. See for yourself what tragedy lies ahead when the paths of star-crossed lovers meet. And now: On with the show!

Barnes walks offstage. The curtain rises, revealing a farm house with a Horde banner flying behind it. In the foreground, Garrosh enters from stage right, with Mokvar, Garona, Dontrag, Utvoch, Liadrin, and Faranell in formation behind him. As they walk by the farm, they begin snapping their fingers rhythmically in unison. They continue walking until they disappear from view, stage left.

The lights dim for a moment, then come back on, showing that the farm house has been replaced by a blacksmith’s building. Again, a Horde banner flies in the background. Garrosh et al enter stage left, still walking in formation and snapping their fingers in unison. Again they walk across the stage and exit, stage right.

Blackout. This time, the blacksmith building has been replaced by a stable. Garrosh et al enter stage right and walk past the stable, snapping their fingers – then, stopping their snapping, they turn and look back at the Alliance flag flying nearby.

From stage left, Varian Wrynn enters with a group of Alliance – including Jaina Proudmoore, Falstad Wildhammer, and Shandris Feathermoon. The Horde group turns to see them, and the two sides stare each other down for a moment.

As hectic music fills the air, the two groups launch into combat and fight back and forth acrobatically as if dancing to the music.

GARROSH: For the Horde!

ALL HORDE: For the Horde!

VARIAN: For the Alliance!

ALL ALLIANCE: Alliance!

GARROSH: Oh, fuck you, Varian!

VARIAN: This time there’ll be no escape for you, Hellscream!

The two sides continue fighting back and forth in front of the stables.

GARROSH: For fuck’s sake, you idiots, stop fighting in the middle and cap the damn flag!

VARIAN: There’re all here! The mine has to be open, some of you get over there!

LIADRIN: Someone come with me to cover the blacksmith before they get there!

Most of the combatants rush off in different directions, until Garrosh and Faranell find themselves alone with Varian, Jaina, Shandris, and several anonymous Alliance soldiers.

GARROSH: Okay, now to—

FARANELL: Not liking the odds here, boss – lumber mill coming up!

Faranell grabs Garrosh and teleports them both away just as Varian starts to rush at them.  Varian looks around, then points at a red-shirted dwarf.

VARIAN: You, fact checker!  Watch the stables while we circle around. Let’s go!

Varian and the others rush off, leaving the Wildhammer Fact Checker standing alone by the flag. After a moment, the dwarf lurches forward, stunned, as Garona unstealths behind him and starts stabbing him wildly with two daggers until he collapses to the ground.

GARONA: <turning to the flag> Lok’tar!

Blackout. At the blacksmith, Liadrin and Mokvar fight Shandris and an Alliance soldier, pushing them back until they fight their way offstage to the right.

Blackout. The landscape changes to that of the Isle of Conquest. From stage right, Garrosh, Liadrin, and Dontrag enter, followed by Flastad driving a glaive, with Jaina casting fireballs in support. The Alliance drive the Horde back until they exit to the left.

Blackout. This time the surrounding scenery is that of Wintergrasp. Varian and Jaina enter from stage left, chased by a demonlisher manned by Garrosh, Garona, and Utvoch, plus a catapult driven by Faranell. The Horde continues chasing the Alliance until they all exit, stage right.

Blackout. The scene changes to the Ring of Champions at the Argent Tournament grounds. From opposite sides of the stage, the Horde and Alliance groups rush in and begin fighting across the ring, again moving in rhythm with the music.

After a few minutes of combat, Tirion Fordring enters, runs to the middle of the fray, and emits a burst of light from the Ashbringer that knocks back all the combatants. Tirion looks back and forth at the two groups disapprovingly; they return to their feet and look back at him uneasily.

GARROSH: Oh. Hey.

VARIAN: Greetings, Highlord.

TIRION: If I might have a word, gentlemen.

GARROSH and VARIAN: Oh no.

TIRION: Much hope has been invested in an eventual peace between both your peoples, not least of all by the great archmage Rhonin, in his noble planning of the peace summit in Dalaran that draws near. Indeed, my own friendship with your own kinsman Eitrigg, Warchief Hellscream, stands, if I might dare flatter myself, in illustration of the fellowship that might be wrought between two divergent cultures, and, indeed, worlds—

VARIAN: Look, Tirion—

GARROSH: Seriously, you don’t have to—

TIRION: —one that you both may well benefit to heed. For surely, two such mighty and wise leaders as yourselves cannot but recognize the merit in looking beyond these petty, mutually destructive squabbles—

GARROSH: Dude, really, couldn’t you just let us slowly hack each other to death?

VARIAN: It would be faster and more humane.

TIRION: —in order to secure a lasting stability that would work to both your advantages.

Garrosh and Varian stare at Tirion in silence for several seconds.

GARROSH: Were you done?

TIRION: <sighs> In any case… Under my roof, gentlemen, I trust you will behave yourselves.

VARIAN: Fine, Tirion. I’ll talk to you later. Or try to.

Varian leaves, the other Alliance following close behind. Tirion nods to Garrosh and likewise exits, in the opposite direction.

FARANELL: Well that was arguably needlessly elaborate.

DONTRAG: What’s the plan now, if I might inquire, oh great and nefarious Warchief?

FARANELL: “Nefarious”…?

MOKVAR: Just let him.

UTVOCH: Indeed, sir, are you planning to go through with the peace summit?

GARROSH: Dude, did you just meet me today or something?

FARANELL: Not to mention it would have been a lot easier just to fly up here if that were the case, without having to find parking spaces for all the demolishers.

GARROSH: The only peace I’m interested in with that Alliance scum is the one that will come after we’ve crushed them beneath our boots, and secured the supremacy of the Horde!

DONTRAG: For the Horde!

GARONA: For the Horde!

GARROSH: FOR THE HORDE!

 

{HORDE SONG}

GARROSH:

When you’re the Horde
You stand mighty and strong!
If the humans come toward,
They won’t be standing long.

When you’re the Horde
You’re united and brave,
And across Kalimdor
Full dominion you crave. 

You’re not backing down,
You’re not intimidated!
You’re green and you’re brown.
(I hope not masticated.)
You’re unabated!

If you get bored
Find some humans to slay –
At the end of your sword
Is the end of their days!
Cause we’re the Horde,
Yeah – For the Horde!

Now I know Varian, and I’m damn sure he isn’t any more jazzed about this peace conference idea than I am.

LIADRIN: I’ll bet you anything he’s only here at all because Jaina talked him into it.

MOKVAR: Oh, yeah.  Talked.

GARROSH: Fuck that shit, Mokvar. That would require the asshole to be able to—

FARANELL: I’m begging you not to finish that sentence.

DONTRAG: So what are we going to do, great and mighty Warchief?

UTVOCH: Are we skipping the peace summit?

GARROSH: Oh no, we’re going to the summit. See, Rhonin’s right about one thing – having our war with the Alliance drag on and on IS a waste. For US, anyway. The sooner it ends – with the Horde victorious – the sooner we can stop losing the lives of so many of our brave soldiers.

GARONA: So what are you planning?

GARROSH: We’ll go to Rhonin’s little conference – and I’m going to challenge Varian to a full-on confrontation. One last glorious battle, to decide the fate of Kalimdor at least, and maybe the entire world, once and for all. With victory for the Horde!

DONTRAG: For the Horde!

UTVOCH: For the Horde!

DONTRAG:

When you’re the Horde
You say “Lok’tar ogar!”
Hey, I’m singing a chord!
I can’t carry it far…

UTVOCH:

When you’re the Horde
All’s achievable now!
All the wins that we’ve scored,
Inconceivable—OW!!

ALL:

The Horde’s on the move,
Our hearts full of defiance!
We’ve nothing to prove
Once we slay the Alliance,
Down to a science!

Here comes the Horde
And here’s where we begin
Charging headlong to war
And you know that we’ll win.

Here comes the Horde
And the world’s gonna quake,
First we wiped out Southshore,
Then the Barrens we’ll take.

We’re drawin’ the line,
And if they don’t like hurtin’,
They’ll stay on their side,
And if they don’t, it’s certain
For them it’s curtains!

Here comes the Horde!
When we reach Dalaran
We won’t sign no accord—

UTVOCH:

Isn’t this Karazhan?

GARROSH: <glaring>

Dontrag, I told
You
Once:
WORD
BAN.

All exit, and the lights fade. After a few seconds, the lights gradually come up again, revealing a large room in the Violet Citadel of Dalaran. Rhonin paces around the middle of the room.

From stage right, Garrosh enters, followed by Mokvar, Liadrin, Faranell, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch.

From stage left, the Alliance contingent enters: Varian Wrynn, Jaina Proudmoore, Tyrande Whisperwind, Prophet Velen, Falstad Wildhammer, Shandris Feathermoon, Master Mathias Shaw, and Deliana.

As both groups enter, Rhonin mills about greeting them. No voices are audible, but it’s clear from the participants’ body language that they’re talking. Occasionally Garrosh is seen smacking Dontrag and/or Utvoch in the head.

From opposite sides of the room, Mokvar and Deliana notice each other, then begin to walk toward each other slowly at center stage. They meet in the middle of the room, just as, in the background, Rhonin waves Garrosh and Varian toward each other.

DELIANA: Mokvar…?

MOKVAR: I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Liana…

In the background, Garrosh and Varian can be seen talking, growing increasingly animated, while Rhonin appears to try to calm them both down.

DELIANA: I…I was worried about you.

MOKVAR: <nods> I’d heard you were in Ironforge. I’m glad they didn’t get to you.

DELIANA: When the spectral assassins started coming for the others, I recruited help to try to appease Valthalak. I’d hoped they could do it before the assassins came for you, too.

MOKVAR: I did the same. Mostly to protect my own neck, but still.

DELIANA: <chuckles> Not for me? And here I thought I was something special.

MOKVAR: <laughs> Now you sound like my wife.

In the background, Garrosh and Varian storm angrily away from each other, then pause, turn, charge at each other, and start fighting as most of the rest of their respective groups collapse in closer.

DELIANA: Mokvar, something’s wrong.

MOKVAR: <glances over his shoulder at the fight> What was your first hint?

DELIANA: No, I mean…in Ironforge. A few days ago…I saw Theldren.

MOKVARWhat?

In the background, Rhonin jumps in close to Garrosh and Varian, then unleashes a burst of arcane energy that knocks them away from each other.

RHONIN: <muted by distance but audible> We have all lost a great deal in these conflicts – but we stand to lose everything if we do not stop fighting!

Mokvar and Deliana look back to each other; behind them, the two factions mill about on opposite sides of the room, watching each other guardedly.

MOKVAR: Wait…you saw TheldrenAlive?

DELIANA: <nods> He came to see Moira Thaurissan. I don’t know what about.

MOKVAR: I can’t believe he’s still alive…

DELIANA: It worries me. If he came out of hiding…or if he’s decided Blackrock Depths isn’t safe enough anymore as a hiding place…

At the right side of the stage, Dontrag and Utvoch begin to look curiously at Mokvar, pointing at him and gesturing to each other as they appear to talk. (Which they do. Endlessly. Because they’re Dontrag and Utvoch.)

MOKVAR: Liana…I’ve seen something, too.

Mokvar waves her closer; Deliana leans in nearer to him.

DELIANA: What? What’s wrong?

MOKVAR: It’s…him. He’s back. And he’s in Orgrimmar.

DELIANA: Who…? Not Valthalak?

MOKVAR: <shaking head> No, no, not Valthalak, but—

DELIANA: <eyes going wide> Oh…ohh…oh no, no…

To the side, Dontrag and Utvoch are joined by Garrosh.

UTVOCH: <aside> Warchief? What’s going on with Mokvar?

DONTRAG: <aside> He seems to be on pretty…um…good terms with that human.

GARROSH: <aside> Yeah…he does, doesn’t he…

Deliana looks around nervously.

DELIANA: Mokvar, why would he be in Orgrimmar? What is he doing there?

MOKVAR: Bending the Warchief’s ear, mostly…

DELIANA: He…? Oh no…Mokvar…

GARROSH: <aside> Seriously, wasn’t it enough that Thrall had that incomprehensible thing for Jaina? Is this going to be some new thing?

DONTRAG: <aside> Well, begging your pardon, most highly annoyable and punch-titious sir, she…well, she does have nice legs for a human.

UTVOCH: <aside> Eh, doesn’t really do much for me.

DONTRAG: <aside> No, because she doesn’t have hooves, Ut.

DELIANA: Mokvar, what are we going to do?

MOKVAR: I don’t know. He’s managed to get himself into Garrosh’s inner circle somehow. He’s practically become Garrosh’s inner circle. I don’t know if he’s even touchable at this point.

Garona joins Garrosh, Dontrag, and Utvoch.

GARONA: <aside> What are we all looking at?

DONTRAG: <aside> Mokvar putting the moves on some human, we think.

GARONA: <aside> Ugh, really? Why do you orc men always seem to go after everything but orc women?

GARROSH: <aside> You mean based on the example of an orc woman we have on hand?

DELIANA: Mokvar…I’ll try to see if I can learn anything.

MOKVAR: How?

DELIANABodley. I think I may still be able to reach his ghost…

MOKVAR: I’ll see if I can dig up anything on my end. When should we meet again?

DELIANA: Tomorrow? You know where…

MOKVAR: <nods> Be careful.

DELIANA: You too.

Mokvar and Deliana walk cautiously back to their respective sides of the room. The Alliance contingent begins to leave, while Mokvar appears to talk distractedly with Liadrin and Faranell.

GARROSH: I don’t like the looks of this fraternizing with the enemy at all…

MOKVAR: <aside> I’ll talk to you later, Edwin. I think I need a little air.

The lights dim on all but Mokvar as he walks away from the others and leaves. He steps offstage for a moment, then reenters; a spotlight follows him around the stage as he wanders through Dalaran.

 

{LIANA}

MOKVAR:

A name I never thought I’d hear again…
(Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana)
Since we fled long ago from the heart of a dragon’s den…
(Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana)

Liana!
I saw her again: Deliana.
But now we are aghast:
A shadow of the past
Is here.

Liana!
Stay safe, my old friend Deliana.
We may have just delayed
The bane of the Veiled Blade,
I fear.

Liana!
Go and seek out the ghost of Bodley,
While I question my contacts broadly.
Liana,
This all played out oddly.
Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana,
Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana.
All our efforts we’d best redouble:
We might be in a whole lot of trouble.
Liana,
WTB pally bubble…
Liana.

A name I never thought I’d hear again…
Liana.

Blackout.  At Valiance Keep, Varian and the other Alliance members enter.

JAINA: Are you really going to go through with this?

VARIAN: Did I look like I was joking when I agreed to it, Jaina?

JAINA: But one fight to determine the future of a whole continent?

SHANDRIS: It does sound like quite the gamble, Highness.

VARIAN: You sound like you don’t have faith in my chances against Garrosh, Shandris.

SHANDRIS: Hellscream does not have the best track record with regard to honorable combat, Highness.

VARIAN: Hence why I insisted we hold the duel in a setting where we can keep a close eye on him.

FALSTAD: He’ll be tryin’ somethin’ fer sure, Yer Highness, just ye watch.

VARIAN: At least in our own territory, we won’t have to worry as much about the place swarming with orcs.

VELEN: Hang on – swarming with orcs? That sounds like something the Legion would do! The Legion isn’t back, is it?

VARIAN: <rubbing forehead> No, Velen, the Legion isn’t back.

VELEN: You’d tell me, right? I need time to pack.

VARIAN: Believe me, the last thing I would ever do is get in the way of you packing.

JAINA: Speaking of which, if you do lose, do you really plan for us to…go through with it?

VARIAN: I made an agreement, Jaina: one battle, leader against leader, for control of Kalimdor, once and for all. I intend to honor it.

TYRANDE: I don’t much like this business of you gambling with the lands my people have called home for millennia.

VARIAN: Oh, hush, Tyrande.

TYRANDE: …

SHANDRIS: Oh no he didn’t.

TYRANDE: You are not nearly hot enough to get away with talking to me like that!

VARIANThe point is, I don’t intend to lose. And then you’ll be happy I took up the challenge, when the forests of Ashenvale are no longer crawling with orcs.

VELEN: Crawling with orcs! That’s it, not taking any chances – I’m out! Good luck, people.

Velen exits.

VARIAN: <sighs> Well, they don’t call him Bailin’ Velen for nothing, I suppose.

TYRANDE: Wanting the orcs out is all well and good, but taking such an all-or-nothing risk…

SHAW: Really, I don’t see what you’re so worried about. I mean…it’s just Kalimdor.

TYRANDE: Umm…what?

VARIAN: Seriously.

SHANDRIS: You…can’t be serious.

JAINA: You realize they’ve both lived there for thousands of years, right?

FALSTAD: Maybe ye could use a change o’ scenery, then.

VARIAN: I’m not disputing it would be a loss, but it’s not as if there’s a lot over there that’s irreplaceable…

TYRANDE: Are you not familiar with the World Tree?

SHAW: The one that burned with Archimonde and…hang on…nothing happened?

JAINA: I…don’t believe you three.

VARIAN: Oh, don’t worry about Jaina. She grew up in Kul Tiras and Dalaran but then she decided to go move into her own place and forget her old home.

JAINA: Not true! I remember it well.

 

{KALIMDOR}

JAINA:

Eastern Kingdoms:
A lovely visit.
I wouldn’t ever want to live it.
Greatest city there you found
Pulled itself out of the ground –
Dalaran’d rather float around!
Half the mountains burning.
Undead plague is churning.
I’ll take kingdom Theramore
(Well, till it ain’t there no more).

JAINA, TYRANDE, and SHANDRIS:

I like to be here in Kalimdor.
So much to see here in Kalimdor.
Make the orcs flee out of Kalimdor!

VARIAN:

Horde burning trees there in Kalimdor.

JAINA:

Winterspring sledding is so fun!

SHAW:

Look for a flight path – there ain’t none!

SHANDRIS:

Vast tranquil plains under blue sky.

VARIAN:

Barrens chat: listen once, you’ll cry.

JAINA:

Earn gold in Ratchet in Kalimdor.

FALSTAD:

Goblins will snatch it in Kalimdor!

TYRANDE:

Draenei chose to land in Kalimdor.

In the background, the Exodar flies by.

VARIAN: <pointing a thumb at the ship>

Velen just abandoned Kalimdor.

TYRANDE:

Historic places in Felwood.

VARIAN:

Illidan screwed that up real good.

JAINA:

Caverns of Time sifting sand, ha!

SHAW:

One slip and you’re your own grandma.

SHANDRIS:

Ysera greets you in Kalimdor!

FALSTAD:

Devilsaurs eat you in Kalimdor!

TYRANDE:

Night elves defiant in Kalimdor.

VARIAN:

Roaches are giant in Kalimdor.

JAINA:

Out to the forests – a fun romp!

SHAW:

Forests? You’re stuck in a damn swamp!

TYRANDE:

Titan creations in Uldum.

FALSTAD:

Those almost made the world go boom.

VARIAN:

So much frustration in Kalimdor.
Steak rules a nation in Kalimdor.
All your flirtation in Kalimdor!

JAINA: <glares and draws a dagger>

You risk castration in Kalimdor.

VARIAN:

You should come back to Kul Tiras.

SHANDRIS:

Not on the map – do they fear us?

VARIAN:

Garrosh will strike if you don’t fly.

JAINA:

Yeah, sure, I’d like to see him try.

Blackout. The stage is illuminated again, gradually, by fiery light, revealing the interior of Blackrock Mountain. Mokvar enters, stage left, and walks amid the rubble and stone, looking around cautiously.

The stage lights become brighter as Mokvar nears center stage, illuminating, above, the balcony leading to Blackrock Spire. From the entrance to the spire, Deliana enters, looking down.

DELIANA: Mokvar!

MOKVAR: <looking up> Liana! Are you all right up there?

DELIANA: Other than a few bruises from the fifteen times I tried to hop over to this blasted balcony and missed? Peachy.

MOKVAR: Yeah, I’m not taking my chances. Knowing my luck I’m liable to fall in the lava.

DELIANA: Does anyone know you’re here?

MOKVAR: No. You can tell that by the fact that I am here, and not dead.

DELIANA: <nods> I had to sneak out as well… I suspect Varian would be none too pleased if he knew I was meeting you.

MOKVAR: I’m pretty sure “none too pleased” would be the best case scenario with Garrosh.

DELIANA: Have you found out anything?

MOKVAR: Nothing very much. I’ve had to be fairly careful with my asking around, so I haven’t been able to dig as much as I’d like. I know Malkorok turned up in Orgrimmar some months ago, and rose through the ranks quickly. But nobody seems to know where he came from. Well, other than the obvious.

DELIANA: <nods> I can’t understand how he won Garrosh’ trust so quickly.

MOKVAR: How did he win Rend’s?

DELIANA: And how did that work out?

MOKVAR: I know… What about you? Were you able to…?

DELIANA: Yes… <sighs>

MOKVAR: The fact that you’re stopping there tells me it’s bad news.

DELIANA: Not much to go on, but it doesn’t sound good. I was only able to make contact briefly, but…there have been spectral assassins here. Leaving the spire. For the first time in years…

MOKVAR: There’s…about half a dozen ways to account for that, and none of them are good.

DELIANA: I know.

MOKVAR: Anything else?

DELIANA: That’s it so far. <sigh> I’d really hoped this was over years ago.

MOKVAR: So did I.

DELIANA: I suppose you reap what you sow, though, don’t you…

MOKVAR: Yeah… Well, what’s done is done. Nothing to be done about it now.

DELIANA: I know. Still, I wish I could just go back in time sometimes.

MOKVAR: No, you don’t. Trust me. It’s more headaches than it’s worth.

DELIANA: What do we do now?

MOKVAR: I’ll try to call in a few more of my contacts…I’ve got a few people still who owe me favors. Check around too, if you can…

DELIANA: I will. I’ll find a way to contact you one way or another in the next day or two.

MOKVAR: Be careful. If the wrong people find out what we’re doing, they’re not going to care what it is we’re actually talking about.

DELIANA: I know. Watch out for yourself, Mokvar.

MOKVAR: Have been for years. Stay safe, Liana.

Liana nods, then waves, and disappears into the spire doorway. Mokvar watches her go, looks around uneasily, and exits, stage right.

After Mokvar leaves the stage, a low whooshing sound is heard. To the left side of the stage, near one of the large stone blocks, Garona unstealths. She peers across the stage to the right side, a look of concern on her face, then stealths again.

The curtain closes.

 

{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 2…}