Tag Archives: vol’jin
Monday mailbag
So yeah, I know I’m just getting this mailbag in under the wire for it to count as Monday, but whatever, it’s hard to get a stable internet connection out here in the fucking swamp. I’m writing from the field as we make our final march into Dustwallow Marsh. I figured I haven’t answered any mail for a while, so it might be good to offer up a few messages from the my loyal Horde minions before we but a roflstomping on the humans.
Let’s see what we’ve got…
Written on a heavy parchment in multicolored inks, the first impression of this letter is one of chaos. Small sketches of Tauren, prairie wolves, swoops, and other sights of Mulgore clutter the margins, at times encroaching on the text itself. The sketches are obviously done quickly, but with moderate skill; the subjects are clearly recognizable even though the drawings are rough and unfinished. In contrast, the words meander across the page, crooked and shaky, with the occasional backwards letter. Many times a word will be started in one color of ink and finished in another, as if the writer got distracted halfway through the word.
Dear Mistr Warcheif Sir,
I have a question, and the nice ork Mistr U told me to write to you and ask. Hes visiting, and hes been reel nice to me. He talks a lot. Sumtimes I cant ask him anything because he talks too much. But he told me to ask you. He said you would kno. I wanted to ask if brown orks taste diffrent than green orks. Do green orks taste like mint? Are brown orks chocklate? Tauren taste like fur. Why are you brown when the other orks are green? Did you eat too much chocklate? Everyone tells me I cant eat too much chocklate, itll make me sick. Did you get sick from chocklate? Mistr U needs to go now, so I have to stop riting and give this to him.
The letter is signed with a large, inky pawprint, a small sketch of a Tauren druid in cat form, and the shaky name “Taktani,” with every letter in a different color ink.
Um…
Hmm…
Well…
<scratches head>
The FUCK is this?
Okay, so I get that the talkative orc this person is talking about is probably Utvoch… I mean, starts with “U” and talks too much, how many of those could there be? And I guess this is good since it confirms D&U must still be alive in the restored timeline after…well…you know. Um…I GUESS that’s a good thing. Not sure what Utvoch is doing in Mulgore rather than Vindication Hold up in Stonetalon, but whatever. I guess being killed in the line of duty earns you a little R&R time.
As for you, Taktani…um, no, brown orcs don’t taste like chocolate, and green orcs don’t taste like mint. Although it IS kind of funny thinking of that, since it would mean, what, Thrall and Aggra are going to have mint chocolate chip babies? Heh. But no, we just taste like….orc. I mean for real, I get enough attention from the ladies as it is, what with me being Warchief and dead sexy and all — last thing I need is for word to start getting around that I taste like chocolate too. Dude, I won’t be able to walk down the fucking STREET.
Anyway, Taktani, thanks for writing just the same. Hopefully you’ve outgrown Tauren Kindergarten-Land in Mulgore, and are off doing some bigger-kid stuff. The Horde can always use more good soldiers, especially on my watch with me looking far and wide for ways to keep the troops busy. Ashenvale’s looking pretty nice this time of year, if I can make a recommendation. Just don’t get too much of the damn night elf glitter in your eyes.
I’m writing’ to ya from one of our ships headin’ down to Theramore! I’m on a boat, mon!
Make sure ya watch it to da end, mon!
–Bob, S.S. Echo Isles
I… he… what the hell IS this, the mailbag of WTF?!
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that this Bob guy managed to dig up a new and creative way to be stupid. Funny, though, I’m pretty sure that’s the song I’ve been hearing Vol’jin humming to himself for most of the trip down. Maybe it’s some kind of a troll thing…
Time is short, in more ways than one. I’m writing this for those of us on the road to Theramore.
The hour of assault approaches. There may be some who doubt why we’re here. Why we’re doing this. Why we must. The reason can be given in one word: Taurajo. A hunters’ camp, not a military target, annihilated by marauding Alliance soldiers. Soldiers, I say? I misspoke: they weren’t soldiers, they were bandits. Bandits supplied, equipped, and brought to Kalimdor through one place and one place only.
That is why Theramore must burn.
That is also why I make what may sound like a peculiar request. When we make the final assault, those of us who aren’t compelled otherwise should wear Thunder Bluff’s colors. Not only will this show our solidarity with our Tauren brothers, it will also remind those cowards why we come. To remind them that Justice neither relents, nor sleeps.
For the Horde! And for Taurajo!
–A Concerned Citizen
Now THAT’S what I’m talking about! Go to it, ACC, lay some truth on them motherfuckers! I’ve got to say, one thing that’s fucking infuriated me on this trip has been seeing how many of our people HAVEN’T on board with me with the post-Taurajo hate. Check this out — I even heard a rumor that Baine was telling people that Taurajo was a legitimate military target, and the human commander at least gave the civilians room to flee, and he wonders if we’ll conduct ourselves as honorably. This is BAINE talking. BAINE. THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT? In what backwards-ass universe am I more pissed off about Camp T than chieftain of the fucking tauren?!
Anyway, I’m definitely encouraging the troops to follow your suggestion, ACC. And on that note, we’re about to spit up the force for the final march. I’ll update again soon…can’t wait to see the looks on the humans’ faces. I’ve got a little surprise planned for them…
This is the way the world ends
{Picking up from last time…}
Garrosh and Mokvar look around the room nervously while the goblin messenger slowly pulls himself up.
MALKOROK: <snickering at the goblin> Do you see, you simpering worm? Do you see what your failure brings you?
GOBLIN: <steadies himself, rubbing one shoulder in pain> I’m…I’m sorry, sir. I swear the crew is working tirelessly to correct the problem and have the galleon ready to embark as planned…
MALKOROK: <shoving the goblin from behind> See to it that they do, rodent! If you come to the Warchief bearing bad news again, rest assured you’ll have far worse than bruises to show for it!
MOKVAR: Hey, enough, leave the little guy alone.
MALKOROK: <sneers> Stay out of matters that are none of your concern, scribe. Assuming you’re capable of such a thing.
GARROSH: Malkorok, that’ll do. I think the courier gets the point.
MALKOROK: As you wish, Warchief.
GARROSH: <to the goblin> You have your answer. Go deliver it.
GOBLIN: Yes sir…
The goblin rushes out.
MALKOROK: I do not like having to rely on these sniveling—
GARROSH: Really not the day, Malkorok.
MALKOROK: If you insist. I still question the wisdom of your…predecessor choosing to bring these Bilgewater rats into the Horde.
MOKVAR: Yeah, well, I question the wisdom of wisdom of of era wisdom uoy of question suounet of erom eht of the won raised fo esnes ruoy in reworran eht tub front anosrep ruoy dilos of erom eht htdiwdnab ruoy my rekciht eht erutuf eht ni eyes dna tsap eht ni the llewd bringing the uoy bringing erom bringing eht bringing bringing the bringing the likes of you into the inner…oh…
Garrosh and Mokvar look around again, finding themselves at the entrance to the Drag. Horde troops rush around, fighting demons, while civilians continue to flock to the elevators.
GARROSH: <looking around frantically> Edwin – do you see Edwin anywhere?
MOKVAR: Nowhere I can see.
GARROSH: Goddammit…
MOKVAR: He was headed up to the Skyway, so hopefully he made it out…
GARROSH: Let’s hope. Well, we can keep an eye out, but either way, let’s make sure the others get out, too…
We ran through the Drag, past scores of demons being fought by Horde soldiers, weaving between heaps of bodies of demons and Horde alike. We helped the soldiers kill a few of the monsters as we made our way toward our main destination: the orphanage.
When we got there – and cut down a trio of shivarra on the way – we found Vol’jin had had the same idea, and was slaying demons as he cleared a path for himself from the opposite side. We converged at the door to the orphanage, and Vol’jin waved us inside while he squared himself to cover the entrance.
Mokvar and I ran in. There was no sign of Matron Battlewail anywhere, and the kids were half running around in a panic, half hiding behind or under anything they could find. We ushered them out as quickly as we could – I tried to look for Gurtash, but he wasn’t anywhere I could see – and as we came back outside, we found Vol’jin fending off a new batch of wrathguards being rallied by the doomguard Highlord Kruul.
I stepped in to help Vol’jin push Kruul back while Mokvar covered the orphans. In the chaos, I spotted Thathung and Wabang — reluctant grunts in the other world, auctioneers in this one — rushing past, and I broke away to flag them down. Mokvar herded the kids over closer while I told Thathung and Wabang to get them up to the zeppelin towers. I was so focused on getting the orphans taken care of that I didn’t even notice Kruul lunging in behind me with his sword poised.
VOL’JIN: Garrosh! Look out, mon!
Vol’jin dives at Garrosh, pushing him away – and taking Kruul’s blade through his back.
Garrosh pulls himself up as Vol’jin spills onto the ground next to him, and, roaring angrily, Garrosh launches himself at Kruul, slashing at him furiously with both axes. Kruul deflects the first several attacks, then starts to have trouble keeping up with Garrosh’s flurry of blows, until finally Garrosh chops off the demon’s hand at the wrist, leaving his sword to rattle away uselessly. With one more angry shout, Garrosh lashes at Kruul, tearing his axe across the demon’s head, slicing away its top half just below the eyes.
As Kruul falls lifeless to the ground, Garrosh spins around and runs back to Vol’jin.
GARROSH: Okay…okay, troll, now we just get you patched up, and…
Garrosh looks at Mokvar, who shakes his head.
Come on, he was just some pansy-ass demon, you’re not going out because of some punk like him, right?
Vol’jin cringes, then rolls to look up at Garrosh.
That’s right, there you go – unbreakable, right, troll?
VOL’JIN: <halting> Garrosh…mon…I seen…seen you… <seizes up and coughs, then grins faintly> Wish…wish I was invincible…den…he would never a seen me…mon…
Vol’jin lets out a breath, then goes limp on the ground.
The entire city shudders, and chunks of the upper level buckle. Pieces of stone and architecture break off and crumble. Dranosh rushes in from the Valley of Honor with a handful of soldiers.
DRANOSH: <shouting in all directions> Fall back to the zeppelins! All forces fall back!
GARROSH: Let me guess, it’s getting worse.
DRANOSH: The Scourge are getting through. The shamans managed to bring down some of the cliffsides as a barricade, but it’s just buying us some time… <looks down at Vol’jin> Is he…?
Garrosh nods.
This is a nightmare….
GARROSH: Nah, now we just sic the Scourge and Legion on each other and kill two birds.
DRANOSH: <smirks half-heartedly> Yeah, we’ve got them right where we want them now.
GARROSH: <scans around> You want me to help finish calling the evacuation?
DRANOSH: No…I’ll do it. I’m the Warchief, if anyone has to call the retreat…
GARROSH: We’ll hit the Valley of Wisdom and make sure it’s clear. Everyone else seems to be on their way.
DRANOSH: I’ll see you up at the airships.
GARROSH: If we’re late, don’t wait for us.
DRANOSH: Like I would.
GARROSH: Lok’tar ogar, Warchief.
DRANOSH: I don’t like those options today.
GARROSH: Be careful.
DRANOSH: And you.
We split up, and Mokvar and I made our way through the smoke and the fighting and the toppling buildings into the Valley of Wisdom. Most of the tauren had already cleared out. Mokvar and I made short work of some imps that were setting the teepees ablaze, then ushered the last of the tauren civilians up toward the Skyway.
Another tremor shook the walls of the valley, and large chunks of rock splintered off and came crashing down onto the tauren structures, crushing two of the buildings and sending the largest totem toppling to the ground. As the totem landed, I heard a pained, bestial shriek, and circled around to check.
Zhi-Zhi, that crazy-ass monkey-boy, was pinned under the fallen totem.
GARROSH: <rushing over and gripping the totem> Mokvar, give me a hand with this.
ZHI-ZHI: No! No, you go! No stay for Zhi-Zhi!
GARROSH: <struggling to move the totem> Don’t…ugh…don’t worry, Hairy Grammar Boy, we’re not…nngh…not staying for anyone, least of all your scrawny ass…uggghh…we’re just getting this off you and we’ll all be on our way.
Garrosh and Mokvar continue working on the totem, but it barely moves.
MOKVAR: Dammit, what did they carve this thing out of, lead?
GARROSH: It’s made of solidified inconvenience, just like every other damn thing in our lives right now…
ZHI-ZHI: No! You go! Listen, listen to Zhi-Zhi! Must go!
GARROSH: Nnnngh…don’t…don’t know what you’re so worried about me, Spanks. I thought you said I’m NOT “the one”…
ZHI-ZHI: Yes! No! Not the one! Yet!
Another tremor sends more stone crumbling down around the sides of the valley.
MOKVAR: Garrosh, hate to say this…
ZHI-ZHI: Must go! Go now!
GARROSH: You shut up, chimp, we’ll have this in just a second…
ZHI-ZHI: Listen! Listen to Zhi-Zhi! <stares up wide-eyed> You…have…a destiny!
MOKVAR: Garrosh…
GARROSH: We’re not fucking leaving him! He KNOWS something, Mokvar!
MOKVAR: So do we, Garrosh! And if we don’t make it out, it dies with us!
ZHI-ZHI: Go now! Please! Go for Zhi-Zhi!
Garrosh lets out a disgusted sigh and nods, then follows Mokvar out of the valley – looking back over his shoulder at Zhi-Zhi every few steps.
We had to fight our way through droves of felguards and terrorfiends to get to the elevator, but we finally managed to reach the Skyway. The last of the zeppelins was departing as we arrived, and Dranosh was standing by with Drok on the Windrunner. The entire Skyway was shaking as we got on board, and the gunship pulled away. As we passed over the city, we could see the Scourge starting to pour into the Valley of Honor. The rest of the city was swarming with demons. Every kind you could imagine.
We’ve been circling over Orgrimmar at a safe distance — or as close as you can get to safe, under the circumstances — for nearly an hour now, watching the demons and undead fighting in our streets and tearing down our buildings. Dranosh hasn’t had much to say. He’s just been standing at the edge of the ship, looking down, watching everything and nothing in particular.
We won’t know for sure how bad our losses are until the ships all reach their destinations and we have a chance to do a head count. Eitrigg went with the civilians to Thunder Bluff. Most of the military personnel are on their way to paying a surprise visit to Theramore.
Meanwhile, we stay here, circling around the clouds, waiting for Dranosh to come back from wherever he’s gone inside his head.
The siege of Orgrimmar
This may wind up being all over the place – so much happening that I’m not even sure where to start. I’m going to try to cover as much as I can remember, in as much detail as I can, and I’m having Mokvar edit in what he can, both from his notes at the time and also – probably mostly – his best estimates after the fact. I’m not even sure I should be taking the time to write this all out, but if things go badly from here, I feel like there should be a record somewhere of how it happened.
If you don’t hear any more from me, then this is the story of how the Horde fell.
I guess I should start at the beginning.
Our fears based on the scouting reports were justified. The Scourge force in Winterspring, which by all accounts had grown to massive numbers, swept south into Azshara and across the zone unopposed. We had early warnings from patrols that they were on their way, but there wasn’t anyone to slow them down, and as news came in I found myself wondering why the goblins weren’t putting up any resistance. It took me a few minutes to put two and two together and realize that there WERE no goblins in Azshara, because the Bilgewater Cartel in this world had apparently never joined the Horde.
It’s strange how things work in this world. Every time I flash into this timeline from ours, I find myself dropped into the middle of whatever was going on here. I still remember where I was and what I was doing in the original timeline, but within a few seconds, I also remember, more or less, what was happening here – at least enough to get my bearings. And I’ll have these other, scattered memories – or fragments of them. Images, places, little snippets of things that I’ve done and seen here. Just enough to get by. And yet, I wind up drawing a blank on the big picture. I know what’s happening as it’s happening, but I don’t know how it got to be that way.
So I still have these gaps, like with the goblins, or for that matter the Scourge, or the demons – big chunks of altered history that I just have no idea about, and it’s not like there’s been a point when I could ask someone without setting off all kinds of warning lights. “Oh hey, you know these major historical events we’re in the middle of, and that I’ve personally lived through? They’ve kind of slipped my mind. Give me a quick recap?” Best case scenario, they decide Garrosh has finally gone off his rocker.
So funny thing, standing on the rampart over the Orgrimmar rear gate, watching those masses of undead coming over the hills, I couldn’t help getting lost in my head for a minute. Wondering where Spazzle is now.
Zaela directed the main defenses as the Scourge arrived and threw themselves against the gate. The rampart was packed to capacity with catapults and lined with archers. Nazgrim led an entire legion of infantry down to take them on directly, striking quickly then backing off under cover fire from the rampart. Even at the battle of the line at Elrendar, I’d never seen so many Scourge. We killed thousand upon thousand of them, and yet the fields of Azshara teemed with them endlessly.
Dozens of gargoyles and val’kyr flew past our outer defenses and swooped through the streets of the Valley of Honor. The Kor’kron air guard dove in to engage, but even they could only keep up with so many of them at a time. I rushed back inside to help fight off some of the ones close to the ground. As I was hacking up a val’kyr, I heard someone screeching for help behind me – turns out it was that strange monkey-man Zhi-Zhi that Nazgrim had found stranded at sea, being tugged back and forth between a pair of gargoyles. I charged in and cleaved them down.
ZHI-ZHI: Ah! Ah! Many thanksings, yes, much appreciations for saving Zhi-Zhi!
GARROSH: What the hell are you even doing back here?
ZHI-ZHI: Zhi-Zhi, uhh, Zhi-Zhi come for fishings of crawdads! Nice pond for fishings! Good for snacks!
GARROSH: Fishing? Dude, did you not notice there’s a major battle going on here?
ZHI-ZHI: Yes! Yes! Less competitions for Zhi-Zhi!
At that point Dranosh came running in to direct another infantry battalion to the gate and redeploy the units covering the interior stop points. As he approached us, the ground shook as a deep, rumbling noise echoed around us.
DRANOSH: <looking up to the gate> What the hell was that?
GARROSH: I don’t know – did they bring battering rams? Or maybe they’ve got flesh giants at the gate now?
ZHI-ZHI: Oh no…
Zaela runs in from the gate as another rumble shakes the ground.
ZAELA: What’s going on in here?
GARROSH: That’s not coming from the gate?
ZAELA: No, I came to try to see what was causing it.
DRANOSH: Status report back there?
ZAELA: Getting hit hard, Warchief, but we’re holding.
DRANOSH: As long as the gate holds, we can pick them off for as long as they want to keep coming.
Another rumble, lounder, crashes through the air as the ground shakes forcefully. Garrosh stumbles in place briefly before regaining his footing.
GARROSH: What the hell IS that?
ZHI-ZHI: <closing eyes and shaking head> Cracks, cracks, everywhere cracking…closed circle coming…
MOKVAR: I think that came from the Drag – or maybe the Cleft of Shadow?
GARROSH: The Cleft of…there couldn’t be anything going on in Ragefire…?
DRANOSH: Right now I’m not interested in guessing – check it out, Garrosh. Find out what’s going on back there.
GARROSH: On it.
ZAELA: I’m coming too, Overlord.
ZHI-ZHI: <hands on head> From within, it consumes…
Zaela, Mokvar, and I ran back to the Drag as quickly as we could. The ground shook beneath us while we ran past one building after another, looking around frantically for any telltale signs. Finally we ran into the Cleft of Shadow. And my rage bar hit overload.
They were standing in a circle – about a dozen warlocks, each standing in a glowing, purple rune, with Neeru Fireblade among them, chanting some sort of incantation. They were all channeling some kind of spell with red-purple ribbons of magic energy flowing from their hands to the middle of their circle, where a swirling disk glowed and shuddered on the ground. The closer we got, the more we could feel the low trembling of the ground under our feet. The warlocks repeated every few words that Neeru said as he continued his chant, and they grew louder each time as if they could feel success looming closer.
The swirling disk pulsed more brightly as we closed on the circle of warlocks. Zaela and I didn’t waste any time worrying about the details of what they were doing – we charged in and started cutting them down. Mokvar threw a hex on Neeru Fireblade to put a stop to his chanting, then helped us take out the rest. But with every warlock we killed, the glowing disk only glowed brighter, and as I cut down the final one, with his last breath he just laughed.
WARLOCK: Too late, you fool! He comes! He comes!
The disk glows brighter as the ground shakes with greater force.
GARROSH: What the hell WAS that spell they were casting? Why doesn’t it stop?
MOKVAR: Because the real spell wasn’t coming from this side…
ZAELA: This side? Of what?
MOKVAR: The spell they were casting was a locating beacon…
The ground rumbles loudly. The disk expands and starts to glow bright green. Zaela pulls Garrosh back to keep the edge of the disk from grazing him.
…to set a target position for this. For a portal.
The disk gives off one more bright flash, accompanied by a buckling of the ground underfoot, then settles into a duller, steady pulsing. From the center of the disk, a giant blue man’ari eredar rises up, holding open in one hand a book covered in shimmering arcane runes. About a dozen terrorguards and abyssals rise up from the portal behind him.
GARROSH: Oh…fucking hell…
MOKVAR: Wait, is that…?
GARROSH: I’m thinking so.
ZAELA: Who? Who is he?
The eredar snaps the book closed and waves a hand behind him. Several domguards and shivarra begin to emerge.
GARROSH: Malchezaar.
ZAELA: Wait, Prince Malchezaar?
MOKVAR: Yup.
ZAELA: Karazhan Prince Malchezaar?
MOKVAR: Karazhan-in-the-Deadwind-Pass-where-the-demons-were-gathering Prince Malchezaar, yeah. That’s the guy.
ZAELA: Wasn’t he killed?
GARROSH: Over and over. Funny thing about that…
The first of the demons rushed at us, and Zaela, Mokvar, and I went to work. Malchezaar did that creepy laugh of his – the one that only a few people should ever have heard but way too many have – as dozens more demons came pouring out of the portal. Mokvar kept an Earthquake rolling under the demons while Zaela and I stood side by side and slashed them down as they ran at us.
GARROSH: We’ve got to stop them here before they get into the city!
ZAELA: I think you’re underestimating how many of them may be coming, Overlord…
MALCHEZAAR: <chuckling> Yes, yes, Overlord, you do not face Malchezaar alone—
GARROSH: Yeah, yeah, I know, Squid-Face, everybody’s heard it, the legions at your command, shut up!
MALCHEZAAR: Oh, no, orc, not the legions at my command – the Legion at His command!
Another deep, low rumble shudders through the ground, accompanied by an even deeper laugh echoing from the other side of the portal. Slowly, an enormous, clawed red hand rises out of the portal. Several of the demons turn to look, then cackle hideously.
GARROSH: That…couldn’t…
MOKVAR: Oh…oh shit…
Zaela turns to Garrosh and grabs him by his shoulders.
ZAELA: Overlord…go!
Zaela spins away from Garrosh and charges at a nearby doomguard. She leaps up, grabs the doomguard by one horn, and uses her grip to flip over its body while wrenching its neck around and snapping it. Still holding the horn, she flings its entire body into a cluster of succubi, then throws herself into a pack of a dozen felguards while launching into a bladestorm that sends severed limbs flying left and right.
ZAELA: <glares back at Garrosh as several demons converge on her> Garrosh – GO! Warn the Warchief! Kagh!
The giant hand reaches to one side of the portal, dragging a heavy red arm behind it, and presses against the ground as another laugh bellows from beneath.
MALCHEZAAR: Oh yes, do – warn the Warchief, Warchief.
MOKVAR: <looking to Garrosh> Did he—?
GARROSH: Later.
Garrosh pulls at Mokvar’s arm and runs toward the exit of the Cleft of Shadow; Mokvar scoops up the still-hexed Neeru Fireblade and follows. As they rush to the exit, Zaela tears through demons at the portal’s edge, while more emerge by the dozen. Garrosh turns a moment to look back at her before following Mokvar out to the Drag.
GARROSH: Aka’Magosh, Warlord.
Garrosh and Mokvar emerge into the Drag with about twenty demons in pursuit. Horde soldiers on the street turn in surprise at the sight, then run to intercept the demons. Mokvar turns back to face the entrance to the Cleft and holds his hands toward the stone that forms the cavern.
MOKVAR: Spirits of Earth, I know I’m still kind of new at this, so please, please don’t pick today to be finicky with me…
GARROSH: <looking around and grumbling> “Warchief,” he says. This world has seriously got to stop finding new ways to be fucked up…
The stone shakes and begins to crack; the cavern entrance collapses on itself just as another pack of demons near it from the other side. The ground shakes violently as an angry growl rumbles from behind the heap of rock.
GARROSH: That buys us some time, but it won’t hold them forever. We have to get to…ah, here we go…
From the gate to the Valley of Honor, Dranosh and Vol’jin rush in with a squad of Kor’kron. Orcs, trolls, and tauren pour into the drag from either side, running around in confusion as they engage the demons.
VOL’JIN: How da demons get here?!
GARROSH: It was the warlocks – they were helping the Legion open some kind of portal, and—
The ground shakes again, forcefully, and a deep laugh echoes from below.
—and I think the big guy is with them…
The Horde troops finish the last of the demons, but look around anxiously at the sound of the demonic laughter. The boulders blocking the Cleft of Shadow passage begin to buckle and shake.
Dranosh leaps onto a broken siege engine, gestures to the crowd with both arms, and calls out loudly.
DRANOSH: Hear me, sons and daughters of the Horde! We have been betrayed from within our very home, and the Burning Legion comes into our midst! I look among you, and know that this is not a battle you dreamt you would fight today – but the battle is upon us nevertheless, and we will meet it! I look among you now, and see the fear in your eyes – fear for your home, for your family – but I tell you, do NOT fear them! Remember instead – it was your home, your family, that these very demons defiled! These same demons who destroyed our beautiful world, who left your fathers and mothers and sisters and brothers lost or forever scarred! These same demons who today have come – and delivered themselves to the justice they have too long eluded! The Burning Legion comes today, my friends – and I do not fear them! I PITY THEM! Rise up now! Rise up for the moment we prayed would come! For Draenor! For Azeroth! FOR THE HORDE!
I’ve heard troops shouting “For the Horde!” more times than I can count. I’ve never heard it as deafening as it was right there – just as the boulders blocking the cavern finally cracked and the demons came rushing out.
The flood of demons was met by a raging wave of green and brown and blue as our soldiers threw themselves against the monsters, crashing into them and pushing them back. Vol’jin called out to a squad of Darkspear shadow hunters, who lined up on the ledge across from the Cleft and rained arrows down onto the oncoming demons, then he ran over to Dranosh.
I started to run past Dranosh to rejoin the fray. He grabbed me as I passed and pulled me to face him. His look was grim and urgent, and his eyes were more terrified than I’d ever seen them. I think a little piece of me died at the sight.
DRANOSH: We need to get the civilians out of here, and we need to get them out NOW.
Captain Drok runs into the Drag, leading a squad of troops. Dranosh grabs him by his arm as he passes.
DRANOSH: Drok, I’ll take care of your men – I need you to get up to the Skyway. I want every zeppelin and gunship we have ready to take off and I want them ready ten minutes ago, do you understand?
DROK: Yes, Warchief!
Dranosh runs after Drok’s troops, cleaving down a pair of felguards as he goes. After cutting down a terrorfiend, he looks back over his shoulder at Garrosh, Vol’jin, and Drok.
DRANOSH: You heard me! All of you – GO!
Dranosh rushed back into the battle, and Drok ran off to the Skyway elevator. Vol’jin and I split up, him racing to the Valley of Spirits, me to the Valley of Strength. I ran from building to building – through crowds of panicking citizens – ordering them to the Skyway and trying to herd them into some vague semblance of order. Droves of orcs and trolls, blood elves, tauren, even some scattered worgen and gnomes. Humans. I never thought I’d see the day I’d be racing around helping save humans. Desperate times.
I KNEW Orgrimmar needed some kind of emergency alert system.
I followed the crowds up to the Skyway elevator near the entrance to the Drag and tried to keep them moving in as much order as a frightened mob could maintain. All you could hear was the sound of people shouting and screaming and the rising growl of the demons. Every so often, the ground shook again beneath us.
After one tremor, I felt someone jostle me, and I turned to see a human had bumped into me in his rush to the elevator.
A familiar human.
FARANELL: Wha— Garrosh?
GARROSH: Hey, Doc, I— DOC! What are you—oh shit, Soridormi said you might—
MOKVAR: Doesn’t that mean the timelines are merging?
FARANELL: <looking around panicked> What—what’s going on? What happened to Orgrimmar? I was…I was walking back to my quarters, and there was a flash, and…
GARROSH: Yeah, weird dizzy feeling for just a second?
MOKVAR: It’s the other timeline, Edwin.
GARROSH: Welcome to the end of the world, Doc. You picked a great time to drop in…
MOKVAR: Actually…Garrosh…
A loud crashing sound comes from the back of the city, followed by a rise in the overlapping screams and shouts. The ground shakes again violently.
FARANELL: I don’t understand – all this is happening because of what I did? I mean, the other me? How—?
GARROSH: Long story, Doc, and I don’t even know all of it. <steadies himself after another tremor> But wait a minute – if you’re here—
MOKVAR: Exactly! If he’s here, and we can get him to Soridormi—
GARROSH: —then maybe THIS “you” can actually fix actually fix fix ytilatrom actually fo fix you raef fix namuh eht fix can esab eurt you rieht ta evah have tcartsba ro a detacitsihpos destiny revewoh emit some of fo some snoitagitsevni some lla some some of some of what’s gone wrong and—
Garrosh looks around the Northwatch Hold admiral’s quarters, horrified.
No – no, no, NO, NO, NO!!
Garrosh lashes out, smashing the table in front of him and pummeling a goblin messenger across the room and into the wall.
MALKOROK: Hah! Indeed, Warchief, nor should you stand for such incompetence! Perhaps you should put an end to his sniveling existence – the Horde can surely afford the loss of one pitiful weakling. Haha!
{TO BE CONTINUED…}
Casualties of war
We’re still holding tight at Northwatch Hold…for more reasons than one. The second phase of the plan is ready to go, not least of all because of some clutch last-minute work by the goblins and blood elves, and all that’s left is for me to give the go-ahead.
Not yet, though. Waiting a little more could end up helping in a couple ways. One, it ultimately puts a few pieces in even better position for the Theramore plan. And two, it gives that much more time for these time tremors to kick in and save us the trouble of even dealing with what’s happening here in the first place.
Not that anyone here actually knows about any of that. Well, ALMOST no one knows about it, anyway. Mokvar knows the story with the time flashes, obviously – I haven’t said anything about my own take on them, although it wouldn’t sock me if he’s guessed, after last time. And Malkorok knows some of what’s coming strategically for Theramore. Or might be, if I decide to pull the trigger. He’s been an advocate for it, even while I’ve been on the fence myself.
Baine and Vol’jin, meanwhile, have been getting more and more grumbly. Earlier today, they came moping into the admiral’s tower here, which I’ve taken over as my personal quarters, and interrupted my lunch just to complain some more about all the waiting. I don’t mind telling you, I am getting damn sick and tired of tired of of rebma tired ni of sick sgub of erofeb dias of and evi sa and lla era ew taht dnif lliw you uoy dna tnemom yb tnemom have ti ekat si ylpmis ti a snoitanalpxe ro sgninraw ot flesti destiny dnel ton seod ti egnahc ton seod wrappings ti emit wrappings lla burial wrappings si burial emit burial lla burial burial wrappings burial wrappings were applied and the body was set in place for the final rites. Hamuul Runetotem conducted the memorial, with Aponi Brightmane chiming in an additional prayer to the Earth Mother now and again.
Even looking back, it’s amazing to think of the turnout for the service. Dranosh, Eitrigg, and I came, obviously. Varok made the trip to Mulgore all the way from Northrend. Jaina Proudmoore and – ugh – Varian Wrynn traveled from Theramore. Same for Anduin. Genn Greymane. Muradin Bronzebeard. Even Tyrande Whisperwind and Malfurion Stormrage (yeah, yeah, I know I usually call him Antlers, but this was a funeral, and even I have my limits) came out from their corner of nowhere to pay their respects. It crossed my mind after we’d all left that one of our big-bads could have turned up and dropped one big bomb on Red Rocks and taken out almost our entire leadership in one fell swoop.
Varok didn’t stray far from Cairne the whole time. The old bull was quiet, steady, stoic as always, but we all knew what had to be going on inside. The only time Cairne spoke at all – apart from him stepping forward to offer the final blessing – came when he turned to Saurfang and quietly told him he envied him. Not even for the obvious reason, not quite. He said he envied that Varok would one day meet his end knowing he would be buried by his son. That is was the proper order of things. That of all the scourges of war, none was more spiteful than its upturning of that rightful order.
I’ve spent much of the day trying to convince myself that Baine’s death shouldn’t bother me as much as it does. I can’t even say I ever knew him very well, and most of how I DID know him…well, let’s just say I’m we’re not exactly at the top of each other’s Winter’s Veil lists. It would have been naïve of me to think that this other world would only give back, only right wrongs. It would have been naïve to expect that there wouldn’t be new losses. I couldn’t really have expected otherwise. Except that I guess I did.
We’re at war. This is what happens in war. That men will die is a matter of fact. WHICH men will die…well, that’s a matter of circumstance. Baine is a victim of a different set of circumstances. Are these really any worse? I mean, yes, there’s the fact that the war with the Scourge is still going on at all. But there’s always another war. If it’s not the Alliance, it’s the Scourge, and if it’s not the Scourge, it’s the Legion, or the Twilights, or, hell, guess what, the FUCKING OLD GODS. That’s how it works. We beat one big bad, only to have another one dropped on us. Rinse, repeat, cross your fingers…
Speaking of which, though. We ended up needing to get back to Orgrimmar shortly after the service. Advance scouting reports have indicated a large Scourge force amassing in Winterspring, and we needed to review what we know and get our defenses in order, just in case. Saurfang stayed for the strategy session, what with him having logged the most Scourge-fighting hours of any of us, but we agreed that until we know what the Lich King is up to, we don’t want our troops in Northrend to be without their C.O.
We’re in the process of shoring up the rear gate to Azshara in case anything happens. In the meantime, we’ll keep watch on what’s going on up north while we get our defenses set.
Seems I’m going from one waiting game to another. Let’s hope at least one of them breaks well for us.
What goes around
It’s been four days since the Razing of Northwatch Hold. We’ve been camped here at the base without a sign of Alliance retaliation. I’ve been mulling over a few possibilities that are still in play for the next step, and giving our troops time to rest and build up their anticipation for the next battle. Apparently, though, the down time has just given some of the higher-ups time to stir up trouble for themselves. You know what they say about idle hands.
Malkorok came to me claiming that a batch of the other leaders were planning to gather to talk mutiny. I didn’t put much stock in it at first. It’s no secret that Vol’jin and Baine aren’t crazy about my plan, but in the end, they’re loyal to the Horde. Malkorok is dedicated to his job, and good at it, but sometimes I think he gets a little overzealous looking for conspiracies and enemies behind every shadow. Maybe it just comes from all that time in the Blackrock clan under Rend. Anyway, this sounded like one of those overzealous times.
At least that’s what I thought.
Today, Zixx Grindgear – one of the goblin zeppelin captains – came to see me. Malkorok wasn’t going to let him in originally, but the little guy managed to convince him he had some news I needed to hear. When Malkorok brought him to see me, Grindgear claimed that Hamuul Runetotem had asked him to attend a meeting with Baine and others to discuss their…“concerns” about the mission. At this point, it was too much to brush off, so I told Grindgear to go ahead and attend the meeting. Malkorok and I wouldn’t be far behind him.
When we left to check up on this meeting – along with a detachment of Kor’kron I was hoping I wouldn’t need – I decided to bring Mokvar along as well, to keep a record or whatever we found.
What we found made my blood boil.
Garrosh, Malkorok, and Mokvar approach the tree where several Horde figures have gathered around a campfire: Baine Bloodhoof, Vol’jin, Hamuul Runetotem, Frandis Farley, Kelantir Bloodblade, Captain Zixx Grindgear, first mate Blar Xyzzik, Margolag. Garrosh et al listen from the nearby bushes as the meeting carries on.
BAINE: …our purpose here tonight is not to lead an insurrection, but to discuss what he has done up until this point and the wisdom – or lack thereof – of his choices.
FRANDIS: I serve the Horde. But it seems the Horde does not serve me, or my lady. We were once human; I myself once lived in the very city of Stormwind, which is certain to come beating down on us at any moment. The Alliance is surely aware of what has happened by now, and I think Lady Jaina too wise a leader not to know that Theramore could be next in line to fall. Yet knowing all this, Lady Sylvanas agreed to send aid to the endeavor. But to what end? We are gathered! The Horde has food, supplies, and for those of you whose blood still flows in your veins, I know that blood burns hot for battle. Why is he waiting? Each day that passes, his troops become more uncertain. This is not wisdom. This is simply…irresponsibility.
KELANTIR: I agree with Captain Farley. His lands and ours are vulnerable if the humans decide to retaliate there instead of sending ships to Theramore. The swifter the strike, the swifter the reward. I cannot comprehend why Garrosh delays. More time serves our enemies and harms us.
BLAR: I don’t know why he did this in the first place. Trade Prince Gallywix might see coffers overflowing with gold, but all I see are goblins being used as cannon fodder for no real profit.
VOL’JIN: You all know da trolls be a proud an’ ancient people. We joined da Horde because Sen’jin had a vision dat T’rall would help us. Lead us to safety. An’ he did. He was a good leader. Now T’rall be gone, and Garrosh be in his place. T’rall, he understand da elements, da spirits. He be da first new shaman his people had seen in a long, long time. We understand da elements, da spirits too, an’ I tell ya true now, what dat Garrosh did wit’ his dark shaman – it make da spirits angry. I don’ know how long he be able to control dose molten giants, an’ if he don’t… Well we all saw da Cataclysm. Dat was da world in pain from Deat’wing. How much worse is it gonna be if da elements be in pain from da Horde? Who you tink dey gonna attack? It be us, mon.
As Vol’jin speaks, Malkorok steps out of the bushes, accompanied by several Kor’kron, and approaches the group purposefully.
MALKOROK: Yes, it be you who suffer, mon, but not from the elements!
Some of the group reflexively reach for their weapons.
BAINE: No! Lay down your weapons! Lay them down!
MALKOROK: The bull speaks wisely. If I see any weapons in the next three heartbeats, I will slay their owners.
Garrosh steps into the assembly.
GARROSH: I did not believe it…
The Kor’kron guards circle around the group.
I had word of your little meeting…
Garrosh looks to Zixx Grindgear and nods; Zixx goes to Garrosh and stands uncomfortably behind him.
I came to observe, with my own eyes and ears, what Malkorok said was true.
BAINE: If you saw and heard it all, then you know that this was not treachery. No one sought to overthrow you. No one here chanted “Death to Garrosh.” What was said here was said out of concern for the Horde, which we are all devoted to.
MALKOROK: To question the Horde’s Warchief is to question the Horde.
BAINE: It does so only if, in your mind, two plus two equals five. Our concerns are valid, Warchief. Many of us have sought audiences with you so that we might say these things to your face, so what we might have answers or explanations. The only reason we are gathered here tonight is because you would not see us!
GARROSH: I do not need to answer to you, tauren. Or you, troll. You are not are not not noitarud are setutitsnoc not troll hcihw not siht si not you ti stnemom you tsap fo yromem eht fo gnileef all tneserp eht ot noitidda eht the tuohtiw etats a fo noitaunitnoc on dna scourges yromem tuohtiw ssensuoicsnoc of on si ereht ecnis tnemom yreve war egnahc ton seod hcihw elpmis revewoh dnim fo etats on si ereht the taht noitcejbo the eht not the epacse not tonnac not i not not the not the one we…
[Blinks and shakes his head, then looks around briefly and lets out a frustrated sigh.]
…that is…not the ones we need to worry about.
DRANOSH
True enough. Still, if they’re backing up and converging in the Deadwind Pass, I’d…Mokvar, are you taking notes?
MOKVAR
[Looks up while frantically writing.]
Hmm? Wha…oh. Oh, no, I’m…I mean…maybe?
DRANOSH
[Chuckles.]
Adelene’s official transcript not good enough for you? And actually, when did you become a scribe in the first place?
MOKVAR
Oh…um…well… Night classes?
GARROSH
Uh, yeah…I, um, kind of encouraged him to expand his interests.
MOKVAR
Under pain of…well, pain.
DRANOSH
Wait, what?
GARROSH
Never mind.
MOKVAR
Yeah, so, um, how about them demons?
DRANOSH
[Perks an eyebrow but turns back to Zaela.]
Right…so… If they are converging on Deadwind, I’d like to have an idea of what they’re doing.
ZAELA
Do you want to send a scouting party to gather more intel?
DRANOSH
Maybe something that doesn’t put our people so much in harm’s way. I’m wondering if some of our warlocks could determine anything about the demons’ activity.
EITRIGG
I can ask around in the Cleft of Shadows and see if Neeru Fireblade and the others think they can do anything.
DRANOSH
Good enough for a start.
GARROSH
What’s the state of the Silvermoon evacuation?
ZAELA
The last few gunships should be leaving by the end of the day.
EITRIGG
We’re sure the magic barrier around Quel’Danas will hold?
DRANOSH
It should. Those incantations patched together the strongest warding magics the Sha’tari, Argent Crusade, and Kirin Tor have to offer.
MAGATHA
Basically, if they don’t hold, there likely wasn’t anything we could have set in place that would.
ZAELA
Once the last of the Silvermoon contingent gets here, we can redeploy as need be around Kalimdor or Northrend.
GARROSH
By the way, speaking of which, who was that guy leading the blood elf regiments at Elrendar? That guy was pretty badass – I saw him make short work of a TON of those Scourge.
DRANOSH
You mean Lor’themar?
GARROSH
Is that his name? Sounds familiar. Who is he?
DRANOSH
Um, he’s Regent-Lord of Quel’thalas.
GARROSH
…Oh?
MOKVAR
Yeah, uh, leader of the blood elves?
GARROSH
Oh, don’t YOU start acting like you always remember—
MOKVAR
Ahem.
GARROSH
Uh, yeah, never mind. Anyway, that guy bears watching for other missions, is all I’m saying.
ZAELA
You’ll have the chance to work with him again soon enough. He and Liadrin will be arriving on the last gunship, once they’ve seen that the last of the evacuees are out.
DRANOSH
I assume Lady Liadrin will want to rejoin the other Argent forces in Northrend.
ZAELA
I would think so.
EITRIGG
We’ve also had a request from Lady Proudmoore for supplementary forces to be sent to Theramore.
GARROSH
[Bristles briefly.]
Might…uh…that might be a good spot for some of the incoming Silvermoon troops…
DRANOSH
Agreed.
MAGATHA
Perhaps a combined detachment of some of the incoming blood elves and a platoon or two of our troops from somewhere like Feralas?
GARROSH
[Glaring at Magatha.]
Since when are you an expert on troop deployment?
MAGATHA
I’m not, certainly. I merely suppose it might be beneficial to send support from multiple quarters of the Horde.
EITRIGG
It would be a positive gesture diplomatically…
MAGATHA
And I only suggest Feralas because, at present, there’s very little activity there, so we could likely spare the personnel.
GARROSH
I’d just as soon not weaken any of our stable positions is all, though.
DRANOSH
It’s worth considering, but I would agree with Garrosh – if we’re going to divert any Kalimdor units, it might be a better plan to send a regiment or two from Camp Taurajo.
[Garrosh glances to Mokvar, smiling faintly.]
Speaking of which, Garrosh, while we’re talking about sending support to Theramore, I want to get your opinion. I’ve been thinking it would be a good idea to deploy a standing officer for our forces in Theramore, to provide military advice and represent the Horde in command decisions.
GARROSH
Makes sense.
DRANOSH
I’m considering General Krom’gar. You’ve worked with him before, haven’t you? What do you think?
GARROSH
[Glances uneasily at Mokvar.]
Oh… Umm…
DRANOSH
Is something wrong?
GARROSH
Well…to tell the truth… Krom’gar’s a good soldier and all, but…I’m not sure he’s someone I would want to point to and say “This guy represents the Horde.” I guess you might say he has some…temperament issues.
DRANOSH
[Smirking.]
Pot, kettle?
GARROSH
[Grinning.]
Hey, you asked.
DRANOSH
Hmm. Well I’ll have a look at a few other options. In the meantime…do we have any other business, Warlord?
ZAELA
That covers all the scouting reports, Warchief.
DRANOSH
In that case, I think that’s meeting adjourned.
[Eitrigg and Zaela start gathering documents from the conference table.]
MAGATHA
Warchief, a minor question if I may?
DRANOSH
What is it, Magatha?
MAGATHA
As we’re done here, might I make use of the war room for a brief meeting with General Grebo?
[Garrosh bristles at the name and glares at Magatha.]
I have an appointment with him momentarily, and, not knowing how long our meeting would run today, asked him to meet me here.
DRANOSH
That’s fine, Magatha. I need to make a few stops around Orgrimmar anyway.
[Grins as he walks to the door.]
No crazy parties while I’m out.
MAGATHA
Thank you, Warchief. Good day.
Dranosh’s scribe’s record stops here, so time to kick it back over to Mokvar…
Dranosh exits the Grommash Hold war room, accompanied by Eitrigg and scribe Adelene Sunlace. Warlord Zaela follows close behind.
GARROSH: <calling after the others> You all go on, I’ll catch up in a minute. I just need to talk to Mokvar about something for a minute.
MAGATHA: I can go if you wish, Overlord. Would you prefer privacy?
Magatha begins to walk past Garrosh, heading toward the door.
GARROSH: Actually, some privacy would definitely be a good thing.
As Magatha passes, Garrosh suddenly strikes her with his fist, knocking her to the ground. She cries out as she falls, then looks around in confusion.
MAGATHA: What— Overlord, what is it?
Garrosh grabs her by her cloak and flings her across the room, away from the door.
GARROSH: What is it? Oh, oh, Magatha, I wouldn’t even know where to start…
Garrosh walks past Magatha – striking her down again as he passes – and toward the platform on which the Warchief’s chair stands.
GARROSH: <looking to Mokvar from the Warchief’s seat> Only a couple things badly out of place in this world, wouldn’t you say?
Garrosh reaches above the Warchief’s seat and pulls Gorehowl from the wall, where it hangs on display in honor of Grom Hellscream. Garrosh turns and walks back toward Magatha, wielding the axe.
MAGATHA: Overlord! Garrosh! You mustn’t! I— I— I haven’t done anything!
GARROSH: And you never will.
Garrosh swings Gorehowl down furiously, slashing Magatha’s head from her body.
MOKVAR: Garrosh…you…
GARROSH: Is this the part where you try to tell me this one was innocent? Really?
MOKVAR: No… I mean… I just…
Footsteps come from the entrance to the war room. Seconds later, General Grebo enters and immediately gawks at the sight of Magatha’s headless body across the room.
GREBO: <running over to the body> What— what happened here? What have you done?
GARROSH: It’s funny you should ask, Grebo…
Garrosh eyes Grebo for a moment, then walks up to him and pushes Gorehowl into his hands.
What we’ve done…is hear a commotion in here, then come back to find you standing over what’s left of Magatha Grimtotem with the bloody axe still in your hands. <looks back at Mokvar> Isn’t that right, Mokvar?
GREBO: Wh-what?!
GARROSH: Isn’t it, Mokvar?
MOKVAR: <nods slowly> That’s the way I remember it.
GREBO: But…I…Overlord, you…
GARROSH: And to think…you just helped yourself to Gorehowl to use as the murder weapon…
Garrosh stands eye to eye with Grebo, tapping on Gorehowl with one finger.
That axe belonged to my father, you know. Did you know that, Grebo?
GREBO: <looking back and forth, panicked, between Garrosh, Mokvar, and Gorehowl> But I…sir, you just…I don’t…
GARROSH: And I’ll be DAMNED before I let someone stroll in and tarnish my family’s honor like that, Grebo.
Garrosh grabs Gorehowl and yanks it back out of Grebo’s hands.
My mother taught me that.
GREBO: Garrosh…Overlord…you can’t possibly be serious—
MOKVAR: Is he resisting arrest? Sounds to me like he’s maybe resisting arrest.
GARROSH: You know, I think you may be right. <to Grebo> Please resist arrest. Please.
On the down side, Grebo didn’t put up much more of an argument. Probably because he was too baffled to come up with much more to say, but whatever. I don’t need to know the details from this world. The fact that he had SOMETHING going on with Magatha, considering he was on the take in our reality, is all I needed to hear.
We handed him over to Dranosh traight away. I thought at least THEN he would have tried to put up an argument, but no. HE just kept quiet – resigned. I suppose I can’t blame him. He knew as well as I did – Dranosh didn’t need to hear any more than the account Mokvar and I gave him. What chance was there he would ever listen to the likes of Grebo over me?
It didn’t take long to be settled. Dranosh sentenced Grebo sentenced Grebo Grebo ytienatnatsni sentenced ylno grebo settled tub grebo noitarud on grebo dranosh eb dluow dranosh ereht tneserp eht otni tsap eht fo lavivrus siht tuohtiw all redlo worg ew sa su dniheb gard ew daol reivaeh llits dna reivaeh eht the ytilauq fo egnahc launitnoc sti yb gniwohs yldnuoforp scourges erom ro tsap eht fo egami gniworg ylsselesaec eht mrof tcnitsid of a ni ti nihtiw gniniatnoc rehtie tneserp eht tneserp war eht otni tsap eht sgnolorp hcihw yromem a fo two efil suounitnoc two eht phase two si phase noitarud phase renni phase phase two phase two is ready to go, on my go-ahead. We should be poised for a great victory, and all the while all I hear are complaints and objections. One outburst of dissent after another, keeping Malkorok a dozen times busier than I ever thought he would need to be.
And you know, here’s the thing. I never asked for this job. Thrall appointed me as Warchief in his place because he thought I represented the best option for the Horde, and since then I’ve done everything I could think to do to secure our future and assure our rightful place in the world – in a position of strength. People forget that ever since the Burning Legion came to Draenor, our people have gone from one brand of slavery to another – to the demons, to the blood haze, to the humans. Never again. I’ve tried to guarantee that our people would never again call someone or something else master. If the humans and elves need to be put in their place in the process, so be it. If the humans end up paying for some of what they’ve done to our kind, all the better.
And yet all I hear, over and over, are the objections. Try to secure our place in Kalimdor, and it’s “Garrosh, you mustn’t!” Go to war with the ENEMY WE ARE SUPPOSEDLY AT WAR WITH, and hear nothing but “Oh Garrosh, how could you?” You know, maybe Dranosh was on to something in that other world. As much as it sickens me to imagine working with the humans – “Sure, you held our fathers in internment camps and almost broke our entire civilization, but sure, no hard feelings!” – maybe it’s just less of a damn headache.
And you know what? Who’s to say that this timeline – the world we’re in now – is the one that was supposed to happen?
All I know is that I look around in that world, and see people still alive who deserve to be, and people dead who deserve the same. Dranosh and Cairne, and Patrick Faranell and the family he should have had the chance to have. Magatha. Grebo. No goddamn war for everyone to bitch and moan about, and someone else in this job to listen to the bitching rather than me. Someone BETTER at it than me.
But this world, the one that’s supposed to be the right one? Everything is backwards. Upside down. Nothing is the way it should be. So you know what? Bring on the other world. Let it bleed on in. Soridormi said Faranell’s become a shatter point in time? Then bring him here so I can kick the cracks and make them crack faster. Sure, we’ll have to find something to do for Faranell. We can’t leave him doomed to spend forever bouncing around in time. But we WILL find something. We always do – we find ourselves in these situations, and agonize and torment ourselves until we find that magic escape clause. We’ll save him somehow.
But this world we’re in now – this one is the nightmare. A little longer, and we’ll all finally be able to wake up.
And all I have to do is sit here and do nothing.
March of destruction
We made our move on the Barrens today. Northwatch Hold never knew what hit it.
While Baine and Vol’jin got their people moving from Mulgore, I gathered our troops in Orgrimmar and started our march from there. Mokvar, Malkorok, and most of the other likely suspects came with me. Eitrigg stayed behind to watch the store while I’m away.
We marched down from the Crossroads to Ratchet, where the blood elves, goblins, and Forsaken had sent ships carrying their troops. Of all the leaders, though, Gallywix was the only one who had actually shown up himself, and even he wasn’t actually planning to join the fight. Probably just as well – I don’t really see his fat, cigar-chomping ass being much help on the battlefield, and as long as the other goblins are here with their siege engines, that’s all we need. Meanwhile, Sylvanas and What’s-His-Name sent lieutenants – Captain Frandis Farley and Kelantir Bloodblade, respectively – to lead their troops. I don’t know anything about Farley other than him seeming kind of permanently slackjawed (literally), but Kelantir says she trained under Liadrin, so hopefully that bodes well.
Once all our forces were gathered, we marched down to Northwatch. Then we struck. Orcs, elves, goblins, and Forskaen from one side, tauren and trolls from the other. It was all the Northwatch soldiers could do not to crumble immediately. I’d figured going in that these humans wouldn’t be much of a match, but just to make sure – and give a new potential weapon a field test – I ordered into battle the special regiment of shaman who’ve been preparing for this campaign.
The shaman moved in close to the hold, under heavy Kor’kron guard. Then they focused their incantations on the boulders just off the shore. The stones shook, and steamed, and started to melt. They grew so hot that not even the surrounding water could cool them – the sea itself boiled as the shaman channeled their magic. The rocks shifted and melted and fused together, and then…breathed. And then they walked up onto the land, molten giants, lashing out furiously out furiously furiously efil out ot furiously giants emoc furiously emit seod furiously lashing spots kcolc lashing eht nehw ylno sleehw i elttil yb havent ffo dekcilc done gnieb si anything ti sa gnol sa forces daed si forces emit silvermoon forces emit silvermoon yals silvermoon skcolc Silvermoon Silvermoon forces Silvermoon forces, along with the troops we’d brought from Orgrimmar, cut down hundreds of invaders and held them back as best they could, but the undead just kept coming. Thousands of them. Ghouls, gargoyles, abominations, vargul. They came and came, wave after wave. Finally, the eastern wing fell, and countless undead flooded across the Elrendar River into Eversong.
Dranosh didn’t look away from the sight while he reminded me – as if he had to – that we had to hold them here until the shield was up, that we had to give Kalecgos and the others more time. I watched the droves of undead rush closer and said, “I’ll get the five thousand on the left, you get the five thousand on the right.” He just nodded and answered, “We can split the ten thousand in the middle.” And down we jumped.
Scourge are like hornets – they might sting individually, but they’re only really dangerous because they can swarm you with so many at once. Dranosh and I slashed through I don’t know how many skeletons and zombies. Bits of Nerubians strewn everywhere. Switching off, trading places, one of us starting to dice up the newest batch, then giving was for the other to finish it off. Dranosh hacking one wing off a valkyr, then grabbing her as she careened on one wing toward a pack of skeletons and letting her trajectory carry his blade clean through them all. Me getting a couple dozen zombies chasing me double-file down a gully, then heroic leaping to the back of their lines, then charging to the front again, running straight up the middle and swiping both my axes through zombies on either side while I ran. Both of us barking a kill count at each other as we slashed away.
At one point we positioned ourselves back to back while duking it out with a pair of abominations. While the aboms lashed their chains at us and we countered each swing, Dranosh leaned back to me and said, “Ogre dodge?” I answered, “Count of three” – we counted down, gave one last feint, then both ducked out of the way while the aboms swiped their chains clean through each others’ heads.
We were cutting a swath through waves of undead while the Silvermoon regiments regrouped and the gunships finally arrived, when it started to dawn on me between swings that it had been years since the two of us had fought side by side. Only it hadn’t. In some foggy half-remembered memories, we’d gone into battle together so many times many times times oga many sraey times together dnasuoht times net nageb i worromot havent dna done worromot anything litnu revo triumphant laugh eb triumphant tnow triumphant yadretsey triumphant triumphant laugh triumphant laugh, with Malkorok joining in beside me, as we watched the handful of Alliance survivors flee like the rats they are.
It took a little doing to get the molten giants reined in, but my shaman were able to set them back to rest. Baine wasn’t exactly thrilled about us playing that particular elemental card, and he had a few choice words about it. Malkorok shouted him down some, but it probably wasn’t necessary. They both mean well, but they also both tend to get a little too worked up a little too quickly. Good thing I’m around to be the level-headed one.
We’ve set up camp here in Northwatch while we recuperate and tend to our wounded. Not too many of those, though, as it turns out – a tribute to how smoothly the entire plan ended up being executed. We’ll stay here until the time is right for the main event – the attack on Theramore. There are still a few variables I need to make some decisions on, but we have time. Right now it’s time to savor the first of many triumphs.
Victory for the Horde!
Readying for war
Preparations are going well for our moves against the Alliance. I’ve issued orders to the various leaders for troop assignments and gotten confirmation back. Begrudging confirmations in most cases, but confirmations nonetheless. Strangely enough, the only one who seems even remotely jazzed about us going on the offensive is Gallywix, although I suppose it might just be that EVERYTHING seems more exciting when you’ve been hiding in a cave or at the bottom of the ocean or wherever the fuck he’s been all this time.
Granted, I’m pretty sure he’s only enthused because his cartel is getting paid and because he figures taking over Kalimdor will mean a stranglehold on trade. And I’ll be the first one to admit that I was lukewarm at best about the goblins joining the Horde in the first place. Part of that was Thrall sending that representative from the Lost Isles with a letter telling me to admit them into the Horde – like, dude, knock it off with the backseat Warchiefing, okay? I mean I know I was still new at the job and it was a whole “acting Warchief” deal, but come on. Plus it really didn’t help matters that after he told me to admit the goblins, he decided to be cute and finish the letter with “And yes, I would like fries with that.”
Anyway, though, Gallywix and his people are turning out to be useful as far as getting siege engines built, along with another heavy combat transport or two that may come in handy for a possible part of the Theramore plan. So at least they’re good for something.
If nothing else, it’s good to finally get this plan back off the backburner again. I know it’s been a while since I’ve mentioned moving on Theramore, and some of you were probably starting to wonder if I’d just dropped it. Never was the case. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into a bad game plan out of anger and setting us all up for the whole thing to blow up in our faces. That and realizing there were a few parts of the original plan that probably weren’t that great an idea. And then we had that whole anti-plague business start up in Southshore, and off we went to the Caverns of Time…and yeah. Anyway, now we’re all back – well, at least until the next time the timeline decides to go all KAPOW on us again, but there’s no sense sitting around picking our noses waiting on that to happen. And everything’s ready to go.
When he had the big council meeting in Grommash Hold the other day, Baine and Vol’jin in particular were fairly grumpy about what I had planned. With Vol’jin I can kind of understand, seeing as he pretty much just likes to be a pain in the ass. But I’m not too crazy about this whole vibe I’ve been getting from lots of people since I’ve been Warchief, this whole “Hold on, hold on, I know we’re at war with the Alliance and everything, but OMG we can’t actually ATTACK them like WTF!” deal some people seem to have going on. Uh, yeah, fuckers, that’s what you fucking DO.
So when I issued marching orders for the first step of our attack plan, I tried to build in a little reminder of what’s actually going on for Baine and Vol’jin. Baine is going to gather his forces at the Great Gate in Mulgore. Vol’jin, likewise, is rounding up his trolls from the Echo Isles and take them to Mulgore to join forces with Baine. Granted, that’s a long trip for them, but it should pay off in a few ways. One, those scrawny-ass trolls could probably use the exercise. Two, it helps give the tauren some backup for any fighting they get into as they cross the southern Barrens. And three, it means that on their way to Northwatch Hold, Baine and Vol’jin will both be leading their people right by what’s left of Camp Taurajo.
I hope they march slowly. Let them take a good long look and remember what these humans they’re so eager to keep the peace with have done to us.
I’ve got to make a few stops around Orgrimmar to make some final preparations. With any luck, by the end of the day we’ll be ready to start our march from here.
More updates soon.
Live Blog: Tides of War
ONE YEAR OF THOUGHTS AND MUSINGS…
[Today marks the one-year anniversary of Garrosh’s first post on the Warchief’s Command Board. To commemorate the occasion, which serendipitously coincides with the release of Jaina Proudmoore: Tides of War by Christie Golden, this post will tie into some of the events of the novel in the form of a LIVE BLOG. The post will be added to over the course of the night so that you will be able to read it in progress as it is written. Continue refreshing this page to update its contents. Also feel free to use the comments to engage with other live readers as the on-the-fly story unfolds!]
I haven’t mentioned this with everything else that’s been going on lately, but several days ago I sent letters out to the other leaders of the Horde to come to Grommash Hold for a special council. An inner circle of key advisors and I have been working on a number of plans over the past few weeks, one in particular that I’ve been keeping on the back burner for far too long. The time has finally come to begin the next stage in the glorious history of the Horde, and it’s only fitting that everyone gather to bear witness to its beginning.
Practically all the major players have been arriving the last few hours — Baine Bloodhoof and Hamuul Runetotem from Thunder Bluff…Sylvanas Windrunner from the Undercity…what’s-his-name, that blood elf guy from Silvermoon. Vol’jin’s come up from the Echo Isles, even though I usually don’t have a whole lot of patience for him. Hell, even Trade Prince Gallywix crawled out from underneath whatever rock he usually hides under to attend. Everybody’s brought a considerable contingent of aides and lieutenants with them, and naturally I have a good-sized contingent of my people from here in Orgrimmar to show their support — Eitrigg, obviously, along with a slew of other aides and supporters like Shok Narnes, Captain Drok, Invoker Xorenth. Mokvar, of course, who’s going to make it a whole lot easier to record and post the meeting. Pretty much the only heavy hitter not here is Saurfang, and, well, I can see why he would decline the invitation, considering.
I waited outside the war room while everyone gathered and got settled into their places. I had my aide Malkorok — who’s been growing more and more important in our developing plans — watched over the gathering, then prepared them for my grant entrance. See, in addition to being an ongoing advisor and newly appointed supervisor of internal security, Malkorok’s also a pretty damn good hype man. So he took a minute to work up the crowd, and then…well, hey, why don’t I kick it over to Mokvar, who I think Spazzle hooked up to be able to feed his meeting notes straight on up to the blog…
MALKOROK: Your leader, the mighty Garrosh Hellscream, approaches! Show him all honor!
The assembly stands and burst into cheers as Garrosh enters, holding his arms wide with Gorehowl in hand.
GARROSH: I bid you all welcome! You are true servants of the Horde. Your Warchief calls you, and you come. <surveying the assembly> Much has transpired since I assumed the mantle of Warchief…
VOL’JIN: <aside to Baine> Most of it bad, mon.
GARROSH: We have faced trials and danger, threats to our world and our way of life. And yet, we persevere. We are the HORDE! We will not let anything break our spirits!
Garrosh raises Gorehowl above his head, and, starting with the orcs present, the assembly cheers.
GARROSH: You do not disappoint me.
VOL’JIN: <aside to Baine> Wish I could say da same, mon.
GARROSH: You are the finest representatives of your races – the leaders, the generals. And that is why I called you here.
Garrosh settles into his throne and gestures for the assembly to sit as well.
GARROSH: There is a menace that has been present for too long, which we must now root out without any mercy.
VOL’JIN: <aside to Baine> Aw, no, mon, don’ be so hard on yaself.
BAINE: <struggling to stifle his chortling> Stop…stop it!
GARROSH: A threat that has challenged us for years, to which we have, until recently, turned a blind eye in the mistaken notion that tolerance of a little shame will do no harm to the mighty Horde. I have—
Vol’jin and Baine glance at each other. Vol’jin doubles over and lets a chuckle escape.
GARROSH: Hmm? You had something to add, troll?
VOL’JIN: No, no, dat was just a sneeze, mon.
GARROSH: A sneeze.
VOL’JIN: Yah, mon. Allergy season, ya know.
Garrosh exchanges a look with Malkorok, who shrugs.
GARROSH: Um, yeah. As I was saying. And have said, and say again – ANY shame is a great shame!
VOL’JIN: <aside to Baine> A damn dirty shame, mon.
Baine lowers his head over the table and chortles.
GARROSH: Any— Um, you too, birthday boy?
BAINE: <wipes a tear from his eye while looking up> Apologies, Warchief. I think I may be having some…trouble with allergies as well.
VOL’JIN: I tink dere might be a bug goin’ round, mon.
GARROSH: Oh for fuck’s sake… Ugh. Never mind. I…where was I again?
MOKVAR: “Any shame is a great shame.”
Baine and Vol’jin double over slightly, barely containing another fit of chuckles.
GARROSH: Right, right. Any shame is a great shame – ANY injury is a great injury! And apparently any sniffle is a great fucking sneezing epidemic. But whatever. Point is, WE WILL ENDURE IT NO LONGER!
Vol’jin smirks at Baine and gives an exaggerated nod.
GARROSH: We have a destiny to fulfill. And there is an obstacle to that destiny – one that we must crush beneath our feet like the insignificant insect it truly is. For far too long – nay, even a MOMENT would be too long! – the Alliance pests, not content with their stranglehold over the Eastern Kingdoms—
SYLVANAS and LOR’THEMAR: <overlapping> Hey now!
GARROSH: —have wormed their ways into OUR lands, OUR territory. Into Kalimdor. Chipping away at our resources and sullying the very earth with their presence! They are crippling us, preventing us from growing, from reaching the heights that I know – I KNOW – we are capable of achieving! For I believe in my heart that it is not our fate to bow and scrape and sue for peace before the Alliance. It is our right to dominate and control this land of Kalimdor. It is ours, and we will claim it as such!
Led by Malkorok, many of the orcs stand and cheer emphatically. After a few moments, the cheers subside.
GARROSH: To that end, it is my intent to lead the Horde on a mission that will restore us to our rightful path. Our first target will be Northwatch Hold. We will raze it. And once we have reclaimed that land as ours, we will move on to the next step – THERAMORE!
Baine, Vol’jin, Malkorok, and several others spring to their feet – some cheering, some crying out in protest. Frandis Farley – one of Sylvanas’ Forsaken lieutenants – shouts over the din.
FRANDIS: Warchief! The lady Jaina is too powerful! She has been passive and quiet. Rouse her, and we will have war on our hands – a war we are not prepared to fight!
BAINE: She has behaved with fairness time and again, when she could have responded with force or deceit! Her diplomatic efforts and her decision to work with Warchief Thrall have saved countless lives! To storm her realm with no provocation does not give honor to the Horde, and it is foolish besides!
MOKVAR: Also I really, really hope this isn’t about your old guild leader…
BAINE: Wait, his what?
MOKVAR: He had an old GM he was pissed at who turned out to be from Theramore.
VOL’JIN: A GM from what, mon?
MOKVAR: This MMO we play.
BAINE: You’re…kidding.
VOL’JIN: Hey mon, you don’ live in da basement in here too, do ya?
GARROSH: WILL YOU SHUT IT? Dammit, trolls should be seen and not heard. Ideally not seen, either.
VOL’JIN: Oh, so you wan’ me invisible, mon?
GARROSH: If only.
VOL’JIN: Like da Lich King’s horse!
GARROSH: ENOUGH ALREADY!
VOL’JIN: Sorry, mon.
Garrosh lets out a long sigh while Malkorok edges closer to Vol’jin’s side of the room, eyeing the troll chieftain uneasily. Garrosh finally gathers himself.
GARROSH: Now then… First of all, Thrall has given leadership of the Horde to me. Whatever HE did or did not do means nothing now.
VOL’JIN: <aside> Aye, you’ll be seein’ ta dat, won’t ya, mon?
GARROSH: I am the Warchief, to whom you have all sworn loyalty. My decisions are what matter. And those of you who condemn my plan do not even know what it entails. Be silent and listen!
Some – but not all – of the assembly return to their seats.
GARROSH: You respond to this as if the conquest of Theramore were the goal. I tell you now, it is only the beginning! I do not speak solely of destroying the human foothold in Kalimdor. I speak also, and even more vigorously, of the night elves. Let them flee to the Eastern Kingdoms as we crush their cities and take their resources!
VOL’JIN: Drive dem all out? Dey been here longer dan we have. An’ we try somet’ing like day, da Alliance be over us like bees on da honey! You just be givin’ dem he excuse dey been looking for!
GARROSH: My soul is sick of the back-and-forth in Ashenvale that has gone on nearly since we set foot in this world. And I am even more sickened by our own blindness to what we should and must do. The night elves claim compassion and wisdom, yet they murder us when we harvest a few trees that would provide life-giving shelter! The night elves have lived here long enough. Let them now linger only as a bad memory. It is the Horde’s hour to reign on this continent, and reign we shall! This is why Theramore is key, do you not understand? <scanning around the chamber> We crush Theramore, we stop the potential of Alliance reinforcement from the south. And then – we give the night elves their due.
SYLVANAS: <rising> Warchief, the Alliance may indeed not send reinforcements. Not at once, at least. They will turn and vent their wrath instead upon those of us in the Eastern Kingdoms – my people and the sin’dorei.
Sylvanas looks to Lor’themar, who remains still and silent.
GARROSH: Wait, who’s that guy again?
SYLVANAS: Warchief?
GARROSH: The blood elf guy.
SYLVANAS: He’s… <rubs her hand over her face> Never mind. The point is…Varian will march on my borders and destroy us!
EITRIGG: Warchief, a word?
GARROSH: I have heard from you already, my advisor.
BAINE: We have not. Eitrigg was friend to my father and advisor to Thrall. He knows the Alliance in a way few do. Surely you do not object to the rest of us hearing what such a wise elder has to say?
GARROSH: <glares at Baine, then nods to Eitrigg> You may speak.
EITRIGG: It is true that the Horde has done much to recover from the Cataclysm. And it has been under your leadership, Warchief Garrosh. You are right. Yours is the title. Yours are the decisions. But yours also is the responsibility. Think for a moment about the consequences the consequences consequences si the ti consequences moment ereh consequences dna gnikam consequences about erew ew about erutuf tahw kniht ot delbuort su ogre fo yna yldrah dodge dna dias consequences eh erutuf consequences eht dire consequences gnikam dire erew dire ewdire dire consequences dire consequences if we fail.
DRANOSH: I know that all too well, Eitrigg. Which is why I’m not going to do this if everyone isn’t in agreement.
Garrosh blinks a few times confusedly, then exchanges a concerned look with Mokvar.
CAIRNE: <watching Garrosh closely> Overlord? Are you alright?
Garrosh looks up at Cairne and stares for a moment.
GARROSH: I… Yeah. I’m fine…Cairne… Just had something in my eye for a second.
MOKVAR: Might be allergy season…
DRANOSH: At any rate… We all know what’s at stake here. I know I’ve said more than once that I don’t intend to send more troops into a losing situation, but I think it’s safe to say this is a special case.
VOL’JIN: I don’ tink dere’s anyone gonna argue, mon. Quel’talas ain’t gonna hold long on its own, an’ we can’ let dem get to da Sunwell. Not again.
DRANOSH: A vote, then. One last battle, to hold the line, at least long enough to do what needs to be done?
EITRIGG: <scanning around> All in favor?
Cairne, Eitrigg, Vol’jin, and Zaela raise their hands. After a moment’s pause, Garrosh and Mokvar do the same.
EITRIGG: And opposed?
VOL’JIN: Dere’s nobody else here, mon.
EITRIGG: Well, still. It never hurts to be thorough.
DRANOSH: I should get you to do my paperwork for me.
GARROSH: You know, I bet he’d be good at that.
EITRIGG: I would not wish to intrude on your confidential documents, Warchief.
GARROSH: I’m sure he has plenty more important things to do with his time.
DRANOSH: I am Warchief.
GARROSH: Better you than me.
DRANOSH: <smirks> Spirits help us. You’d be terrible at it.
GARROSH: Well, it’s a good thing Thrall stuck YOU with the job then, isn’t it?
DRANOSH: <still smirking>No, but really. I think a basic campfire would probably do a better job than you.
GARROSH: <smirks back> Okay, enough. That shit is hurtful.
DRANOSH: What, are you turning sensitive all of a sudden? What’s next, are you going to start writing poetry too?
GARROSH: You never know.
VOL’JIN: Tell you what, mon, we can plan da first readin’ after we out of da fire.
DRANOSH: <turning back to the war map> Well, we’re all agreed. I’ll send a messenger to Silvermoon. The rest of you know what needs to be done to prepare.
VOL’JIN: Aye, mon.
ZAELA: Yes, Warchief.
DRANOSH: Let’s get to work, then. Metting adjourned. Lok’tar ogar!
EITRIGG: Lok’tar!
ZAELA: Lok’tar!
VOL’JIN: For da Horde!
GARROSH: This will either end up turning the tide the tide tide si the ylno tide up saw tide sa gniht tide turning hcus on turning si ereht elpoep laudividni fo sratava yratnemom ogre eht ni tpecxe ecnetsixe dodge on sah hcihw your noitidnoc diulf your accept your a accept si accept emit accept accept you accept your oath.
Garrosh looks around confusedly again, finding himself absently patting the head of a goblin who appears to be kneeling in allegiance. Malkorok approached, ushering Lor’themar Theron with him.
LOR’THEMAR: You wish to see me, Warchief?
GARROSH: I do. I understand you are the leader of the blood elves.
LOR’THEMAR: Um…yes, Warchief. We’ve met several times.
GARROSH: Have we? Hmm. Must have slipped my memory…
LOR’THEMAR: I’m in your Earth Online guild.
GARROSH: You are? Huh.
LOR’THEMAR: Um…
GARROSH: Well, anyway. Out of all our leaders in there, save Gallywix — who’s supportive merely because he sees coins to be made — you are the only one who doesn’t question your Warchief. Not even when Sylvanas tries to play upon your sympathy. I respect that, elf. Know that your loyalty to me is duly noted.
LOR’THEMAR: The Horde embraced and supported my people when no one else would. I will not forget that. And so, my loyalty, and that of my people, is to the Horde.
GARROSH: I am the Horde’s Warchief, Lor’themar. And as such, I AM the Horde.
LOR’THEMAR: You are its Warchief. Is that all you wish of me? My people are anxious to return home and prepare for the war that is to come.
GARROSH: Of course. You may go.
Lor’themar walks off, rejoining the rest of the Silvermoon contingent.
GARROSH: <to Malkorok> That one is worth watching.
MALKOROK: They are all worth watching.
MOKVAR: Um…if I might ask, what’s that supposed to mean?
MALKOROK: <stares at Mokvar a moment> Suffice to say, scribe, that you are not the only one keeping notes. <turning to Garrosh> If you’ll excuse me, Warchief, I have a few matters to follow up on.
Captain Drok approaches and waits close beside Garrosh.
GARROSH: Go ahead, Malkorok. We’ll check in again later.
DROK: Warchief, a moment?
GARROSH: What is it, Drok? Oh…OH…is it…?
DROK: <nodding> I’ve just received word from our team in Northrend, sir. We have it.
GARROSH: <slowly grins, then nods> Good, good… I love it when a plan comes together.
The pieces are falling into place. Everything is lining up. I’ll be sending marching orders to the various leaders within the next day, and soon enough everything will be underway. Everything is going exactly to plan.
If only I didn’t have this nagging feeling the universe is trying to tell me something.
More soon.
[Thanks to everyone who dropped by live to follow the blog in progress! And also, as you may have noticed, the night was capped off with the addition of a badass new header for the blog, generously and masterfully provided by Snapcaster (Cho’gall server) from Dreamweave Design. Many thanks for making the place more presentable! Additional thanks to Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth for providing the header image for this post — click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
Lines of inquiry
A few days ago, Saurfang had sent a courier to me with kind of an irritated letter asking to see me. He had some objections to certain operations going on in Northrend, so I agreed to set aside some time today for him to come down and discuss things in person.
It wasn’t exactly a pleasant meeting.
You’re up, Mokvar.
Saurfang enters, accompanied by two Kor’kron guards who aren’t nearly as badass as him.
GARROSH: Morning, Saurfang.
NAZGRIM: Good morning, High Overlord.
SAURFANG: Morning it is, gentlemen, but I’m hardly convinced it is a good one.
GARROSH: Oh great. It’s that bad, huh?
SAURFANG: Indeed, Warchief.
GARROSH: Okay, well, let’s get it out in the open, then. What’s the problem, Saurfang?
SAURFANG: Let me speak plainly, Warchief. Is it your intention to replace me as High Overlord of the Kor’kron Guard?
GARROSH: What? No. Why would I want to do that. You built those troops up from ground level yourself.
SAURFANG: <nodding grimly> Have I, then, been unknowingly relieved of duty as commanding officer of our Northrend forces?
GARROSH: Oh, wait. I think I see where this is going.
SAURFANG: Have I been relieved, Warchief?
GARROSH: Saurfang, if I ever relieve you of duty, you’ll know from the way I pick you up and throw you from a very great height.
MOKVAR: Like to see you try that…
GARROSH: Not the time, Mokvar.
SAURFANG: In that case, Warchief, I am left to assume that I remain in command of our Northrend operations.
GARROSH: <sighs> Yes, Saurfang, you’re still in command.
SAURFANG: And in that case, Warchief, I would be most interested in hearing the explanation for a team of Horde operatives arriving at Warsong Hold claiming to be undertaking a mission, the details of which they were not at liberty to divulge to the command officer under whose jurisdiction they were operating.
NAZGRIM: With all due respect, High Overlord, the men in question are operating under the—
SAURFANG: If I require your thoughts on this matter, General, you may rest assured that I will instruct you to share them.
MOKVAR: Oh man, shit just got real…
GARROSH: Mokvar!
MOKVAR: Sorry, boss.
GARROSH: Here’s the thing, Saurfang.
SAURFANG: Indeed, Warchief, by all means do elucidate me on the thing.
GARROSH: <glares briefly> The men who arrived at Warsong Hold are working on a mission under the supervision of General Nazgrim here, and under my direct sanctions. And since they’re working under my orders, and aren’t Kor’kron operatives, no, they are NOT under your jurisdiction.
SAURFANG: I see. And is there a reason, then, why I am not authorized even to know about this very important mission?
GARROSH: Look, I know you don’t like being kept in kept in in nway kept gnittolbyks in being desiop in eno ni in dont meht nopu dont nwod thgindim fo egakcerw eht lruh ot tub egakcerw shatter otni thgindim lruh ot ton ti htiw thgindim point gniggard tub thgindim drawot ton deraor emit fo ecarllim tsav eht in moor tilpmal in teiuq kept in eht kept edistuo kept elihw kept kept in kept in the dark, Saurfang.
DRANOSH
Is was a necessary – wait, did you just call me “Saurfang”? Since when do you call me “Saurfang”? Saurfang is my dad.
GARROSH
Wait, wasn’t I just…? Oh. Right… Don’t mind me. You’re looking more and more like him all the time.
DRANOSH
Don’t even joke about that.
GARROSH
Anyway, though, you were saying?
DRANOSH
I know you don’t like being kept in the dark, Garrosh, but we didn’t want word leaking out about what we’d uncovered.
GARROSH
Which would be…?
NAZGRIM
On our last sweep around the islands just south of the Maelstrom, we found a…well, a survivor, sir.
VOL’JIN
By da spirits, ya mean ya—
DRANOSH
No, not him, Vol’jin. Unfortunately.
NAZGRIM
He’s…humanoid. That’s pretty much all we can say. Not any species I’ve ever seen before. Everything he had to say on his own just came out as a bunch of rubbish, and I wanted to bring him back here where we could all hear it before I tried to question him any further.
GARROSH
Is there anything particularly suspicious about him that we’re questioning him…
[Garrosh trails off and bristles as he looks across the room and notices – then stares at – MAGATHA GRIMTOTEM.]
VOL’JIN
Garrosh?
GARROSH
What…is she doing here?
MAGATHA
High Overlord? Why would I not be here? The Warchief has always welcomed my counsel on internal Horde matters…
GARROSH
[Bristles for another moment, then shakes his head vigorously.]
Right. Never mind. I’m just… My head’s just somewhere else.
MOKVAR
Somewhere…
DRANOSH
Are you going to be okay for this? If you need a head shrinker, I’m sure Vol’jin could arrange—
GARROSH
I’ll be fine.
NAZGRIM
Shall we bring him in, then?
DRANOSH
We may as well.
[Nazgrim signals to a guard, who steps into an adjoining room. A moment later, two guards enter with a humanoid – smaller in stature than an orc and similar in features to a monkey. The guards flank him on each side and hold his arms loosely while leading him in. His head hangs low.]
NAZGRIM
He calls himself “Zhi-Zhi.” He says he was an initiate at some sort of monastery in a place called the Jade Forest before the Rupturing. Then the land he comes from was devastated by the resulting earthquakes and tidal waves, and wound up being washed onto the island where we found him. Or so he says, from what I could gather.
[The guards lead ZHI-ZHI into the room. When they stop moving, Zhi-Zhi looks up and sees Garrosh. Zhi-Zhi’s eyes widen with a look of surprise.]
ZHI-ZHI
[Stares wide-eyed at Garrosh, reaching with one hand to point at him.]
Ohh…
[Suddenly pulls his hand back and shakes his head.]
Not the one.
GARROSH
The hell?
VOL’JIN
[Eyes narrowing.]
Not da one what, mon?
ZHI-ZHI
[Shakes his head, then points to Garrosh again with a chuckle.]
No, no, not the one.
GARROSH
[Striding up to Zhi-Zhi.]
Not the one WHAT?
NAZGRIM
That’s really just a small sampling of the kind of lunacy he’s been spouting nonstop since we found him.
GARROSH
Not WHAT one?
ZHI-ZHI
Not the one!
GARROSH
[Rearing back and striking Zhi-Zhi with each word.]
What. Does. That. MEAN?
ZHI-ZHI
AAH! Alright, enough, enough! STOP HITTING ZHI-ZHI!
DRANOSH
Garrosh, enough.
GARROSH
I’ll start hitting a whole lot harder if you don’t start talking some sense.
DRANOSH
Zhi-Zhi.
[Zhi-Zhi looks past Garrosh to Dranosh.]
My name is Dranosh.
VOL’JIN
It be meanin’ “Heart of Draenor” in—
DRANOSH
Don’t start, Vol’jin.
VOL’JIN
Sorry, mon.
DRANOSH
[Turns his attention back to Zhi-Zhi.]
I’m the Warchief – the leader – of a people called the Horde. As long as you’re here, you’re under our protection and safe. We want to help you, but first you have to help us understand.
[Zhi-Zhi slowly nods.]
This is Garrosh. You said he’s…“not the one”? Did you think you recognized him from somewhere?
ZHI-ZHI
Yes. No. Yes. Zhi-Zhi… Zhi-Zhi not sure.
DRANOSH
Where did you think you’d recognized him from?
ZHI-ZHI
When Zhi-Zhi first come to Tian, Elder Cloudfall show Zhi-Zhi the place. Show Zhi-Zhi the visions. Zhi-Zhi saw…saw the cracks, looked into the cracks, saw more cracks, more, growing, everywhere cracks, cracks, cracking… Zhi-Zhi tried to warn, but oh, no, nobody listen to poor Zhi-Zhi…
VOL’JIN
Hmm…visions, eh, mon?
GARROSH
Listen, you blathering idiot, what does any of that even mean, and what could it POSSIBLY have to do with do with with tsap do flah with have rehto with eht gnitteg with to fo syaw to gnitnevni ti fo flah tneps eh tey emit saw derrohba shatter dna deraef eh htaed eht dna point mih neewteb doots taht lla emit saw dah nam taht lla dias to dah elcnu to sih have to woh have gnirebmemer have gnikniht have have to have to do with me?
Garrosh does a double take, shaking his head.
SAURFANG: What does it not have to do with you, Garrosh? The secrets, the infighting, the distrust against supposed countrymen – I have seen it before, and I will not stand idly by and let it take root without even the aid of demon blood.
GARROSH: Saurfang, we’re talking about one single mission which, believe me, has more than enough reason for maximum security.
SAURFANG: And a disregard for the chain of command.
GARROSH: Legionnaire Nazgrim doesn’t…wait, Legionnaire? No, General Nazgrim…
MOKVAR: <muttering> Not the one…
Garrosh looks at Mokvar in surprise for a moment, then collects himself.
GARROSH: General Nazgrim is running the operation, and he doesn’t answer to you.
SAURFANG: Indeed he does not, it would seem. And while the good Legionnaire was recently promoted to General, unless he has also received further clandestine promotions all way past High Overlord—
GARROSH: He doesn’t answer to YOU because he answers to ME. Just like these men don’t answer to you because THEY answer to ME. And I am beginning to TIRE of your coming down here to argue jurisdiction and technicalities when it should be abundantly clear EVERYTHING is being done under MY AUTHORITY.
SAURFANG: And by exactly what authority are you holding your other leaders at arm’s length?
GARROSH: I AM YOUR WARCHIEF, SAURFANG!
SAURFANG: THRALL is my Warchief! And you, boy, are warming his seat.
Garrosh glares at Saurfang for a moment.
MOKVAR: Oh shit.
Mokvar and Nazgrim both take a few steps back.
GARROSH: So now it comes out.
SAURFANG: I may have been the first to have said it, Warchief, but I assure you I am far from the first to have thought it.
GARROSH: Saurfang…you’ve been a hero of our people for many years, and because of that I’m going let this one time pass. If you were any other man, I would have killed you right here and now.
SAURFANG: You would have tried.
Mokvar and Nazgrim take a few more steps back.
GARROSH: Go back to your station, old man.
SAURFANG: Indeed, Warchief. I will retire to Northrend. And as I am no longer privy to all that goes on there, I will trust that there is nothing being done that would bring dishonor to our people. And should I learn that that trust has been misplaced…well…as you say, Warchief, we each have but a single free pass, as the saying goes.
Saurfang turns and leaves. Garrosh lets out a frustrated sigh, then eyes Mokvar and Nazgrim.
GARROSH: What are you staring at? We have work to do.
So…obviously a lot going on. But honestly I’m in no mood to talk about the Saurfang thing right now.
Besides that, though…I remember. I remember the whole thing now, when I…well…flashed to wherever I was, with Dranosh and that monkey guy and holy fuck Magatha are you fucking kidding me. I really remember it – not all fuzzy and blurry and dream-like. What’s more, I just got to talking with Mokvar. He remembers being there too. Apparently he’s been experiencing the same thing the last couple days. We compared notes a little as far as what we experienced, and it sounds eerily similar to those flashbacks that Faranell was complaining about when we went to see him in Hearthglen.
All of us having these flashes is way too big a coincidence. It all started when we brought Faranell back from the past, so I’m going to arrange to pick Faranell up from Tirion, and then have all of us head down to the Caverns of Time. I think it’s time we went over this with Nozdormu.
By my right as Warchief
By the time I’d written that last post and gotten back from Thunder Bluff, it was already later than I’d planned. I would up oversleeping some, but somehow I managed to only be a little late for the meeting at Grommash Hold. Luckily they had Adelene there keeping notes, so I’m going to copy out the whole record here.
Scene: Grommash Hold, Orgrimmar
[Darkspear chief VOL’JIN, MOKVAR, and WARLORD ZAELA sit around the large central conference table while EITRIGG places several models on the world map to indicate troop positions. LEGIONNAIRE NAZGRIM enters and approaches the table.]
NAZGRIM
[Surveying the models.]
Shouldn’t we be showing more troops in Darkshire?
EITRIGG
[Somber.]
Not anymore.
VOL’JIN
Da demons finally pushed t’rough de Deadwind Pass, mon.
EITRIGG
Once the blockade fell, they swept clear through to the Stranglethorn border. Our people are backed up nearly all the way to Grom’gol.
ZAELA
Even that’s just buying time for us to evacuate altogether.
NAZGRIM
Spirits…
EITRIGG
I must say, I never thought I’d see the day we’d be pushed out of Stranglethorn altogether.
VOL’JIN
Nobody ever does, mon.
MOKVAR
Warchief entering!
EITRIGG
Lok’tar!
ZAELA
Lok’tar ogar, Warchief!
[Everyone rises from their seats to face the stairwell. From above, WARCHIEF DRANOSH SAURFANG descends into the room.]
DRANOSH
Lok’tar, everyone. I see we’re almost all here already.
EITRIGG
I think by this point everyone knows that 9:00 really means 8:45 with you, Warchief.
DRANOSH
[Smiles.]
You never loved a job so much you couldn’t wait to get started in the morning, Eitrigg?
EITRIGG
Depends on the day you ask, Warchief.
VOL’JIN
I be more of a night person meself, mon.
DRANOSH
[Pulls up a chair while surveying the map.]
Well I’ll try to make this quick so you can take a nap.
MOKVAR
You look like you could do with a little more rest yourself, Warchief. Have you been getting any sleep at all lately?
DRANOSH
I’ll have plenty of time to sleep when I’m dead. No need to worry about me, Mokvar. I’ll be fine.
MOKVAR
If you say so, Warchief.
DRANOSH
[Scanning the map.]
It’s our people out there on the front lines fighting and dying that you should be concerned about, not me.
MOKVAR
Emissary entering!
[Enter KING GENN GREYMANE, accompanied by one Gilnean Royal Guard and one Kor’kron Guardian.]
DRANOSH
Your Highness.
EITRIGG
Highness.
VOL’JIN
King Genn, mon.
GREYMANE
Good morning, Warchief. All. How goes the day?
EITRIGG
Early enough not to have turned sour on us yet, Highness.
GREYMANE
[Nods, scratching the back of his neck.]
Well, that’s something, at least. King Varian, of course, sends his regards from Theramore.
DRANOSH
I trust he and Lady Proudmoore are well.
GREYMANE
As well as can be expected.
DRANOSH
At any rate, then, why don’t we get down to business.
EITRIGG
Indeed, Warchief.
DRANOSH
Warlord?
ZAELA
[Pointing to various locations on the map.]
Kalimdor outposts remain stable. Quel’thalas is holding, but remains closed off. Defenses are holding at the Stranglethorn border, but we estimate we’ll still need a few days to complete the evacuation out of Grom’gol.
GREYMANE
[Scratching his beard.]
Would reinforcements help at the border? I could likely send a detachment of my soldiers to help hold the line.
NAZGRIM
Never mind holding it. We should be looking to push the damned monsters back again. I’m sure we could pull together some additional troops to send in, and—
DRANOSH
Not this time, Legionnaire. As much as I hate to say it, Stranglethorn is a lost cause. I’m not sending more of our people to die in a battle we can’t win. I don’t want another Ironforge.
[Enter OVERLORD GARROSH HELLSCREAM.]
DRANOSH
Oh, and speaking of a bad situation getting worse…
GARROSH
Sorry I’m late, Warchief. Late night and all.
EITRIGG
Garrosh.
MOKVAR
Morning, Overlord.
VOL’JIN
Hey, mon.
DRANOSH
Up late reading the Roll of Ancestors with Baine, were you?
GARROSH
You know how it is once you get rolling with the begats.
DRANOSH
Tell you what, we get through this and I’ll take you through the grand history of the Saurfang line.
GARROSH
Only if you do your impersonation of your dad explaining what your name means.
DRANOSH
Deal. Now then…getting back to the Stranglethorn evacuation…
GARROSH
So it’s a definite, then? We need to abandon ship.
VOL’JIN
I don’ be likin’ it either, mon, but yah.
NAZGRIM
I still say a counteroffensive is worth the attempt.
ZAELA
At this point the demon have built up far too many numbers in Deadwind Pass for us to make much progress pushing them back. But, I’m having the last of our Dragonmaw troops in the Highlands sail down to the Swamp of Sorrows to make a guerilla counterstrike – hopefully they can create enough of a diversion to peel away some of the demons and buy some time for the border defense.
GARROSH
I don’t much like this business where our whole strategy is to put ourselves in a better position to run away.
NAZGRIM
You and me both, Garrosh.
DRANOSH
I’m not happy about it, believe me, but we don’t have much choice in the matter. Right now we can’t afford to lose more of our forces to a losing battle.
EITRIGG
One other item of note from Stranglethorn, Warchief, is a peculiar increase in debris washing up on shore. Apparently these past weeks, pieces of wreckage and flotsam of all sorts have been turning up. Bodies, as well.
GARROSH
Orc? Human?
EITRIGG
Some of both. And many we don’t even recognize.
VOL’JIN
Dere been any battles at sea dere lately?
NAZGRIM
Not that I’m aware of.
GREYMANE
[Scratching behind his ear.]
We’ve had a similar experience at Theramore the past few days. Largely debris of apparent goblin construction…and bodies as well.
GARROSH
Ratchet?
GREYMANE
[Shakes his head.]
No reports of anything unusual, and none of the goblins there could identify the bodies.
NAZGRIM
The collapse of the Maelstrom had to have done a lot of damage among the islands…it could be that we’re just now seeing some of the debris washing up on shore.
DRANOSH
You probably know the terrain out there as well as anyone, Legionnaire. Think you could take a gunship detachment to do a survey?
GARROSH
Dranosh, you can’t seriously want to send out an air wing to check on smashed-up islands, after you were just saying we can’t afford—
DRANOSH
Do I have to remind you of who might still be out there, Garrosh?
GARROSH
[Sighs.]
Fine. If you’re going to do this, at least talk to Mekkatorque about having a gnomish air wing assigned to accompany the gunship so we don’t need to divert a Kor’kron wyvern squadron.
DRANOSH
Since when have you cared about losing wyverns?
GARROSH
I’m serious, Dranosh. Get Mekkatorque to send his planes.
DRANOSH
Is that an order, Overlord?
GARROSH
[Smirking.]
Matter of fact, it is, Warchief.
DRANOSH
[Smirks back and nods.]
Okay then. You’re the boss.
NAZGRIM
I should have a gunship ready to go by tomorrow morning. I’ll just need to double check troop assignments.
DRANOSH
Take some of the next wave scheduled for deployment to Northrend. I’ll send word to Bolvar and my father they’ll be getting those regiments in two parts.
GARROSH
I’d say to take a minimal crew, though. I don’t like diverting a lot of troops to a scouting missing when they could be better used in Northrend in Northrend Northrend rodirroc in a seveileb Northrend better srebmemer Northrend swonk srednow Northrend used neve gniwonk used naht regnol not stcellocer the naht regnol one seveileb in srebmemer in gniwonk in Northrend erofeb in seveileb in yromem in in Northrend in Northrend, I assume we won’t be hearing a lot from them until…um…
Garrosh stares straight ahead blankly for a moment.
EITRIGG: Sir?
GARROSH: Um…did I just…? <blinks and shakes his head>
NAZGRIM: Warchief?
Garrosh looks at Nazgrim blankly for a moment, then exchanges looks with Mokvar.
EITRIGG: That would be you, sir.
NAZGRIM: Are you all right, Garrosh?
GARROSH: I…yeah. I’m okay. I was just dizzy for a minute. Not sure why I… Did…nobody else just saw anything, did they?
EITRIGG: No, nothing, sir.
NAZGRIM: Just you talking about Drok’s people in Northrend, sir. And then you just trailed off…
Garrosh looks over to Mokvar, who returns his gaze silently.
GARROSH: Okay. So. Drok’s people have their assignment, and should already be underway with it. They’re probably going to maintain radio silence until they’re done.
EITRIGG: I’m still not sure I like all the secrecy around what they’re doing up there, Warchief.
GARROSH: Necessary precaution, Eitrigg. You’ll see soon enough.
NAZGRIM: In the meantime, I’ve had the fleet captains running drills to make sure their crews will be ready to go.
GARROSH: Good. I know they’ve already been on standby for a while, but I don’t expect it’ll be too much longer. A couple more pieces need to fall into place, then the boys and girls can finally do their thing.
NAZGRIM: <nodding> It’ll be good to see, sir.
A courier enters, whispers something to Eitrigg, hands him a sealed note, and leaves.
EITRIGG: Warchief? You have a letter here from Saurfang, sir.
GARROSH: What does… <blinks> …Varok?
EITRIGG: Um…yes, Warchief. Varok.
NAZGRIM: What other Saurfang would it be from?
EITRIGG: Garrosh, are you sure you’re feeling all right?
GARROSH: You know… Maybe I’m just tired. Run down or something. We’ve covered everything we needed to, why don’t we call it a day at this point.
EITRIGG: Yes sir.
MOKVAR: Sounds like a plan.
NAZGRIM: Yes sir. I’m just going to stop upstairs to check on the duty rosters for a few of the ships.
GARROSH: Go ahead, General. While you’re up there, bring down that map. We’re going to be needing it sooner rather than later.
There’s a lot going on and I’ve got a lot to write about, but right now I really do think I’d better get some rest. Because either I’m really for-true run down and imagining things, or…or I don’t know what.
I could swear it was real, but as I think back on it, it seems hazy and fuzzy the way a dream does. And I remember the whole meeting from this morning, so how could I also have been…? Never mind. Forget it, Garrosh. Your mind must be playing tricks on you.
So, yeah. Taking a nap, clear my head, then get back to business.
I couldn’t really have been talking to Dranosh, could I?
