Tag Archives: warlocks
Locks in Socks
Today’s installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – as always, keep those suggestions coming for next time in the comments section!
Locks
Socks
Docks
Brox
Brox on docks.
Locks in socks.
Brox on locks in socks on docks.
Socks on Brox and locks on docks.
Locks in socks on Brox on docks.
Trolls with bowls smoke.
Trolls with poles poke.
Trolls with poles poke bowls till holes broke.
Trolls extol their hole poke goals and
Trolls console their souls, smoke bowls and
Troll patrols troll souls with smoke and
Troll bowl smoke soaks folk who choke.
First I’ll make a troll bowl smoke hole.
Then I’ll make a troll pole poke hole.
You can make a troll bowl smoke hole.
You can make a troll pole poke hole.
And here’s a new goal, Mr. Brox…
Socks on trolls who troll on locks.
Locks on docks steal souls from trolls and
Trolls sans souls put pox on locks.
Now we come to DoTs and HoTs, sir.
DoTs and HoTs go tick and tock, sir.
DoT go tick and HoTs go tock, sir.
Try to say this, Mr. Brox, sir.
DoTs on hawks tick.
HoTs on Brox tock.
Six sick clicks DoT
Six hawk flocks up.
Hawk flocks DoT-up
Shock stalks fel pup.
Fel pup stalks hawk flocks to hell, yup.
Hawk flocks’ yell shocks fel pup locks and
Fel pups smell up dell on walks.
Now you try it, Mr. Brox, sir.
It is time we let you talk, sir.
“Please, sir. I don’t like this game, sir.
I am not this frigging lame, sir.
I get all the trolls and docks, sir,
Mixed up with the souls and socks, sir.
I can’t do it, Mr. Lock, sir.”
I’m so sorry, Mr. Brox, sir.
Here’s an easy game to play.
Here’s an easy thing to say…
Mean orcs.
Clean forks.
Seen forks?
Green orcs!
Green orcs eat pork meat with clean forks.
Clean orc forks beat sweet pork spleen corks.
Green orcs put clean forks in spleen meat.
Mean orcs put corks in sweet Tweet greet.
“That’s not easy, Mr. Lock, sir.”
Who limps?
Imp limps.
Sly wimp imp limps.
Who stocks sly wimp imps with limps?
Locks in socks stock imps with limps.
Wimp imp limps shock locks in socks while
Locks’ wimp imps stock box of socks.
Sly imps spy on locks in socks and
Spry imps, my, throw rocks at locks.
Limp rocks imp walks, blimp sky high! and
Wimp imp pimps for succubi.
“Hold on, hold on! That was stretching!
Those last few have got me retching!
That last one was rather lewd, sir.
I think you are very rude, sir!”
Sorry, sorry, Mr. Brox, sir.
Let’s continue our nice talk, sir.
Chen comes.
Genn comes.
Chen’s friends, then some.
Chen brings Genn cheer.
Genn brings Chen beer.
Genn mends Chen’s cheer.
Chen blends Genn’s beer.
Chen’s blends.
Genn’s mends.
Chen-blend beer spills.
Genn-mend cheer fills.
Chen’s chums. Genn’s glum.
Chen’s friends bend some.
Chen’s friends bend Genn’s cheer austere and
Genn’s blend tends to clear Chen’s fears.
Chen’s friends! Ten friends!
Mend Genn! When, Genn?
Chen’s ten friends send beer to Rend, sir.
Genn’s glum trend, forfend, the end, sir.
“My poor mouth can’t say that. No, sir.
My poor mouth is much too slow, sir.”
Well, then…let’s relieve your lungs.
I will lift this Curse of Tongues.
Let’s have a little talk about squabblin’ goblins…
What do you know about squabblin’ goblins? Well…
When squabblin’ goblins bicker,
It’s called squabblin’ goblin babble.
And when they babble even quicker,
It’s called squabblin’ goblin gabble babble.
AND when squabblin’ goblins babble during Scrabble in a gabble,
They call it a squabblin’ goblin Scrabble gabble babble.
AND…
When goblins squabble goblins in a Scrabble gabble babble
And the goblin gabble babble is a quibble over Scrabble,
…they call this a squabblin’ goblin Scrabble quibble gabble babble.
AND…
When the goblins have these quibbles over Scrabble when they babble and the goblins scribble gabbles over Scrabble taking “tribbles”…
…they call this a quibble babble tribble gabble squabblin’ Scrabble goblin scribble.
AND…
“Lock in socks, that’s quite enough, sir.
I won’t say this silly stuff, sir.
All this babble hurts my head, sir.
I’ll go back to being dead, sir.”
EPIC VERSE!
(Side note, by the way – I really feel like this poem, and Orc Lemon Squares from the other day, are really screaming out for illustrations. So if any of you are artistically inclined and think you might be interested in helping to enhance your Warchief’s EPIC VERSE to its fullest potential, contact me at garrosh1337@gmail.com. THAT IS AN ORDER.)
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Mag’hari house guest
Sorry I haven’t been posting the last week. I’ve been pretty busy here in Orgrimmar, and not even with anything big and momentous like wiping out the Alliance or even the aftermath of Deathwing biting it. This past week my Greatmother has been visiting from Nagrand, so I was showing her around and just generally keeping her out of trouble.
As it turns out, just getting her out here was a big production all by itself. I offered to send a mage to port her straight here, but oh no, no way, turns out apparently old people don’t trust mages and their new-fangled portals, no sir, so we had to arrange to get her out to the Dark Portal to come through that way. By the way, funny how she didn’t want to take a mage portal because those things are dangerous and unreliable, and yet she was totally okay taking the DARK PORTAL which by the way HAS “PORTAL” RIGHT IN ITS NAME TOO, only with dragon heads carved around it and warlocky fel magic buzzing all over it because we all know NOTHING ever went wrong with THAT.
So anyway, we finally got her out to the Dark Portal and through to the Blasted Lands, and then over to Grom’gol to catch the zeppelin up to Orgrimmar. On the way I hear tell she promised home-knit sweaters to a couple of the Grom’grol guards and one of the goblins on the zeppelin, because, you know, you really need a sweater when it starts getting nippy out there in the tropical jungle. I bet most of the problems the Darkspear ended up having in Stranglethorn could have been cleared right up if someone had through to crank out a few cardigans.
So we finally got her up here to Orgrimmar, and I have to admit, I was kind of hoping that she would be at least a LITTLE impressed with the place, or with me being Warchief, but oh no. First thing she comments on is how we’re still under construction even with the Cataclysm happening however many months ago, and how it wasn’t even that big of a cataclysm, not like in her day when Draenor literally got ripped into pieces, and us young ’uns have it so easy thinking a few earthquakes and some tidal waves count as a capital-C definite-article The Cataclysm – and meanwhile they had their settlements rebuilt in a few weeks. Which, everything else aside, yeah, like I needed another reminder of how those goblins are seriously taking their damn time on the construction work.
Oh wait, hold on, let me correct that. That wasn’t the first thing she commented on. No, the FIRST thing she commented on was the ritual tattoos I’ve gotten since the last time she saw me, like “Oh, is this what you kids are doing nowadays? All these young people running around with their tattoos, calling them ‘ritual’ and acting like that means they’re in touch with the ancestors. I know my ancestors knew the actual rituals. You know they’re only going to stretch and sag as you get older, don’t you? Don’t say I didn’t warn you…” Oh and then there were the pieces of Mannoroth’s tusks that I wear on my shoulders – “You wear those to work? For important meetings and everything?” And when I pointed out how they’re from Mannoroth, who killed my FATHER, and how I’d used parts of the pit lord’s remains to fashion the shoulders and my throne in Grommash Hold, all I got for that was “You don’t think that’s a little tacky?”
Also, as if all that wasn’t fun enough, for the first two days pretty much all I heard about was Thrall and how proud she is of him for saving the world from Deathwing and how great it is that he and Aggra are having a baby and by the way WHEN THE HELL WAS THRALL GOING TO TELL ME ABOUT THAT?! First the wedding and now this, the FUCK, man? And anyway, that was all kinds of fun, being reminded on and on about how awesome Thrall is, and how happy she is that she’s finally going to have great-grandchildren. And then she made some mention about how apparently Kilrath has a daughter around my age that she wants me to meet, and yeah that was all kinds of awkward. Ugh.
Over the next few days a bunch of the other Horde leaders came by to meet her and pay their respects, which I’ll admit was pretty cool of them, and she seemed to like Baine especially, gave him the whole “nice young man” deal that old ladies love to throw around. And everyone was nice to her, don’t get me wrong, but like…I mean, I know I can get cranky sometimes, but I really try to watch my mouth around Greatmother. Not least of all because if she catches me swearing she used to give me a good hard yank by my ponytail, which was one of the main reasons I cut it off eventually, but I’m also not in much of a hurry to find out what she would come up with for Plan B now that it’s gone. So anyway, I try to rein it in when I’m around her, but I swear the other leaders were making a point of giving me bad news in front of her and just generally saying things to see if they could set me off. Vol’jin especially. Meanwhile Greatmother just seemed to get a kick out of everyone. I don’t think she’s really clear on what the Forsaken actually are, though, what with her calling Sylvanas “that nice elf girl” that seems like she could use some sun. (More like she could use some SunWELL, am I right? OH YEAH I WENT THERE.) I’m thinking it’s just as well that I don’t clear that one up for her.
Anyway, that’s a sampling of my week, and I’m sure I’ll roll out a few more stories about it if you want to hear, maybe toss a few quotable quotes in the Twitter feed or something (#shitmygreatmothersays maybe). For right now, though, she just left to head back to Nagrand, so if you’ll excuse me, I have a tavern to go visit.
[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]
Monday, so I am told, Mailbag
Citizens of the Horde,
I am an orc of my word; some days ago I invited you to write to me with your thoughts and inquiries, and promised I would answer them as is customary in this space. Today I fulfill that promise.
I write to you from our outpost in Silithus, as I prepare to begin our movement into Ahn’Qiraj. Perhaps this exercise will be helpful in clearing my thoughts before the coming battle. Let us begin.
Have you read any good books lately?
–Tarrful, Orgrimmar
Sadly, my hectic schedule as acting Warchief does not allow me the leisure time to pursue recreational reading. Fortunately, I do make a point of conducting regular briefing sessions to ensure I am kept abreast of important and relevant information, to ensure that the absence of reading time has not caused me to miss something of import.
[Saurfang doesn’t read books. He stares them down until they give him the information he wants. –Mkvr., ed.]
Do you play Earth Online too? If so, what server are you on? What class do you play?
–Kalaban, Undercity
I’m afraid I don’t know what this “Earth Online” is that you speak of. By context, I would surmise it is some sort of diversion or recreational activity involving the internet. Sadly, my schedule already calls for me to spend too much time safeguarding the future of the Horde and saving the world from annihilation for me to invest much leisure time in such matters. Also, I am an adult.
If Thrall and Garrosh ever finished that duel they started back before the Northrend campaign, who do you think would win?
–Kulkesh, Razor Hill
I could not even venture a guess as to the outcome of a battle between two such mighty combatants; and moreover, I can only hope that such a wasteful conflict might never occur.
[If Thrall ever dueled Garrosh to completion, the winner would be Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
I must say, I was expecting these inquiries to revolve around matters of greater weight and import. Nevertheless, we carry on.
When the orcs began dabbling in necromancy, did you ever consider becoming a Warlock? I know you’re a pretty badass Warrior and all, but did you ever think it might be fun to have demon minions and dot people up?
–Davan Shadowspring, Silvermoon City
There was never a point when I was tempted to indulge in the fel magics of the warlocks. Indeed, I suspected even then that no good would come of my people’s dabbling in shadow magic. Moreover, I fail even to see the appeal of such practices; I find it much more honorable and rewarding to confront my enemy face-to-face in combat and best him hand-to-hand, rather than standing at a distance and resorting to trickery. There is a certain gravity and satisfaction to be found in feeling the weight and heft of a solid, reliable blade in one’s hands. And besides, I can assure you, if one is sufficiently proficient in the martial arts, one does not need a precarious spell to make one’s foes flee in fear.
[Damn, Saurfang almost beat me to the punch on this one: Every time a warlock makes someone run away in fear, he pays a royalty to Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
I’m glad to see someone in charge again in Orgrimmar who’s at least somewhat respectable. I would wish you well in your efforts, except that in this case that would probably entail you actually finding Garrosh, and honestly that would end up leading to more trouble than it would be worth. So, here’s wishing you a mixed bag that keeps you in your current position for a while.
–King Varian Wrynn, Stormwind
P.S. Sorry to hear your men were stuck in those underground tunnels on Alcaz Island. Those things are creepy as hell. For years, I had these bizarre recurring nightmares that I was stuck down there, and barely even knew myself. Freaky stuff…
While I remain thankful to you, King Varian, for the kindness you showed me in light of the loss of my son, I nevertheless cannot let such denigrations against our Warchief go unanswered. I may remind you, however much good will may exist between you and I personally, I am first and foremost unwaveringly loyal to the Horde, and Warchief Hellscream is its rightful leader. I am myself, indeed, merely a part of which the Horde is a larger whole; and you may no more speak ill of our leader with impunity from me than you might strike one’s face and not expect the hand to respond in kind. And so, as Warchief Hellscream might comment in his own inimitable manner, I would take this occasion to invite you, King Varian, to engage in an act of self-copulation.
If da Lich King’s horse be Invincible, how come I be seein’ it?
–Bob, Echo Isles
Vol’jin, I don’t know what it is that you’re trying to accomplish, or why you’ve chosen to adopt this puerile façade, but I would ask of you, please, recall your station. We are leaders of the Horde, and as such it is incumbent upon us to conduct ourselves with a modicum of maturity.
I know the Dragon Aspects have a lot on their plate these days, but considering the interest they have in Twilight’s Hammer activities, and the resources and information they have access to, have you considered reaching out to them for support in the search for Garrosh? Maybe have Thrall speak to them on your behalf?
–Zhurzigg, Orgrimmar
While it would indeed pain me to impose upon the hectic schedule of the Aspects, my time in Northrend did afford me the opportunity to develop a certain rapport with the Wyrmrest Accord. As a result, I was recently able to arrange a meeting with Nozdormu at the Caverns of Time. My original intention was to travel to Tanaris on the way to Silithus, but initial preparations detained me in Orgrimmar unexpectedly; fortunately Nozdormu was most gracious over my tardiness (in retrospect, I wonder if he knew in advance that I would be late, all things considered), and welcomed me for our discussion nonetheless.
[Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
Sadly, Nozdormu was able to uncover no leads that might help us pinpoint the location of the Warchief. His ability to delve into past events is, in fact, somewhat compromised by current activities of the Infinite Dragonflight, which is impeding the Aspects’ plan to retrieve the powerful Dragon Soul artifact from the past.
(As an aside, I must admit I would be tempted myself to volunteer for this mission, as it would entail the opportunity to witness first-hand some of the events of the War of the Ancients, in which my dear brother Broxigar had participated.)
[Contrary to popular belief, the Sundering did not happen because of the collapse of the Well of Eternity. The landmasses of the world heard that Saurfang was at the Well, and so the continents split apart in different directions to try to get as far away as possible. As it turns out, the Saurfang present at the Well was Broxigar, not Varok, but you can hardly blame the continents for erring on the side of safety. –Mkvr., ed.]
Nozdormu does still have the power to access the future, but this would appear to have limited usefulness for our purposes. He did suggest at one point that he might move us forward in time to such a point as Warchief Hellscream has been recovered, and then acquire from our future selves the relevant information as to how and where. This, however, struck me as a rather dubious solution; as I explained to the Aspect, in such a circular approach to problem-solving, the actual answers and information would not seem to actually come from anywhere, but rather be produced of whole cloth out of nothing. Nozdormu’s only response was to roll his eyes and, waving a hand about, mutter “Wibbly wobbly, timey whimey.”
The ways of the Aspects truly are a mystery.
One final note in closing: The one aspect of responding to your mail in this format that I do not particularly like is its relatively impersonal nature. Indeed, I wish to apologize to those of you who have written to me directly for not having replied directly in kind. When attempting to log into my “e-mail account,” the machine demanded I provide a password; apparently the device did not find the resulting cleave to be sufficient proof of my identity.
[When Saurfang…oh, wait, he’s already got this one covered. Good deal, boss. –Mkvr., ed.]
By all means, continue to write to me, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang