Tag Archives: WoW
Quality workmanship
So, after the minor calamity of getting Golmash over to the Kor’kron stables, things have gone mostly without incident. You’ll notice I said MOSTLY without incident, not COMPLETELY without incident, because in what upside-down topsy-turvy reality would THAT ever happen? It turned out that the Kor’kron stablemasters had either overestimated the sturdiness of their enclosures, or underestimated the sturdiness of Golmash’s muscles, because when the two collided, hoo boy, things did not go well for the evidently substandard wooden planks.
And I mean, not for nothing, but wasn’t it bad enough that the goblin contractors took like two years to finish the reconstruction job in Orgrimmar after the Cataclysm? Did they have to do a shoddy job of it, too? You would THINK that for all the time spent on it, they would at least, you know, use actual wooden planks and not bundles of straw or some shit, but oh no. Serves me right for not looking into it more before I signed the contract, but I WAS only Warchief for a little while at the time. Crazy me, I just figured I could go ahead and trust Thrall’s guy to do a good job without taking any other bids. Sure, I figured, Thrall must know what he’s talking about with this Gazlowe dude. Sure, I figured, Thrall wouldn’t steer me wrong with a bad referral. Then again, considering this is the same guy who gave me referrals for three advisors who would help me as Warchief, and two of those threatened to kill me within 48 hours of me taking the job, well, I guess you could say the handwriting was on the wall about how much stock I should have put in THAT guy’s recommendations. (It’s a damn good thing I didn’t take him up on his offer to go on a blind double date with him and Aggra that one time, right? I shudder to imagine…)
Where was I? I think I got off on a tangent there. (I’ll tell you, one handy thing about this whole computer thing — other than the way they keep hiding the delete key on me — is that you can look back at what you were saying. I WISH I could scroll back up to double check things in actual conversations. Not least of all so I can check what someone else was saying when I wasn’t paying attention because who gives a fuck. That or when I need to double check to see if I just said what I think I just said because what D and/or U and/or [Insert Random Pinhead Minion of Choice Here] said in response doesn’t make the slightest damn bit of sense in context.)
Okay, I think I just did it again. BUT GETTING BACK TO THE POINT. Which was, shoddy workmanship in the stables, leading to a rather temperamental glowy-eyed wolf running around, which led to lots of chaos until we got that shit locked down. Luckily, wolf dude didn’t get at any of the other wolves or kodos before we got him back under wraps again. The only real damage done was this one peon that was closest to the pen when Golmash get loose, who wound up getting himself mostly eaten. Which kinda sucks, but oh well. I’ll send his widow a ham.
Point is, we need to take a major look at the strength of our enclosures. Granted, most of our mounts aren’t going to cause as much trouble as Golmash, but you have to wonder how many OTHER structures we’ve got that are just a little unexpected stress away from snapping on us. I’ve got one more meeting coming up with Blackfuse before I had back down to Pandaria, so I may see about getting him working on a few things between then and now.
Meanwhile, I need to see if I still have the paperwork for my damn warranty from Gazlowe somewhere. Goddamn corner cutting. I’m half tempted to toss that fucker in a pen with Golmash with only one of the barrier his people assembled to separate them, and see how much faith he’s got in his goddamn product THEN.
Splitting hairs
Okay, people, time for our next installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge. For anyone who hasn’t been following — FOR WHAT REASON I CAN’T IMAGINE — I’ve been commemorating National Poetry Month by inviting my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS to send in their own forays into poetic not-quite-Garroshity-but-hey-at-least-they-tried. Every week at this time I’ll be choosing a reader submission to post and acknowledge, then answer with my own EPIC VERSE MASTERPIECE inspired in some way by my featured guest poem.
As it turns out, I got a TON of submissions this week, so let’s have a look at today’s selection. This one comes from someone who identifies herself only as “Disgruntled Bad Hair Day Blood Elf.” Which, I mean, do whatever you want about THAT combination of terms. The jokes nearly write themselves. While you soak in the yuk-yuks, though, here, have a look at what the blood elf in question has for us…
Hey Garrosh, Great Warchief
I’d like to be witty
But you promised me hairstyles
In Silvermoon City
We ride through the town
Looking high and low
But for a Varian hairpiece
There’s no where to go!
No Goblin coiffeur
No shampoo and set
No wavy perms, hairpins,
We’ve got nothing yet!
So here’s a reminder
With my poetry ditty
Cause me and the boys well…
We want to look PRETTY!!!
Not bad, all considered, and plus, you know, there’s a sentiment you would never, ever expect to see coming from a blood elf, right? So, speaking of which, time for my contribution, where I pick right up on that very point. Here we go…
Well look at that, look at that,
Wonder sustaining,
That rarest of sights:
It’s a blood elf complaining.
Listen, Disgruntled,
I hate to sound hateful,
But you goddamn blood elves
Are awfully ungrateful.
Day after day I’m here
Busting my ass,
But what thanks do you give me?
More griping and sass.
I have to admit —
Call the Argent Confessor —
My mind’s blown that blood elves
Can’t find a hairdresser.
It’s Silvermoon! Don’t you
Have gel by the jarful?
I’d figure you’ve got more
Salons there than Starbulls.
But cool down your jets, kid,
And calm your frustration;
I think your dear Warchief’s
Got your explanation.
You can’t find a stylist?
No free barber shop?
Well, as with most problems,
It starts at the top.
That Regent Lord guy of yours —
You know, What’s-His-Name —
I’ll bet you good money
That fucker’s to blame.
You can’t get your hair done
While salons are closed?
I bet he’s got them busy;
That’s why you’re all hosed.
Just check out the pansy-ass
’Do on that guy;
He can’t maintain that solo —
Much less with one eye.
That’s why your vain hunt’s
Yielding hardly a trace:
He needs teams round the clock
To keep that shit in place.
So go bitch to him, okay?
Go make his head spin.
Go bother someone with
Hair you can get in.
Don’t bug me with hair nonsense;
Hell, mine’s deplete —
You know grass doesn’t grow
On a damn busy street.
EPIC VERSE!
That does it for this time. Considering how many submissions I got this week, though, don’t be surprised if I treat you to a bonus installment sometime soon. As for those of you who HAVEN’T sent in your own composition… WHY THE HELL NOT?! Get off your lazy ass and get to it!
#500 GIANT-SIZED (not really) ANNIVERSARY (kind of) SPECIAL
Okay, people, I know we’ve got a hell of a lot going on these days on a whole bunch of fronts, but let’s get our damn priorities straight and take a moment to APPRECIATE THE GODDAMN AWESOMENESS OF ME.
Why, you ask? AS IF YOU NEED A REASON. But okay, fine, be that way. Even though you should already be in a constant state of awe over your Warchief, today marks an EXTRA SPECIAL awesome, awe-inspiring, awful… wait. I think I just took a wrong turn there.
…
IT’S A SPECIAL GODDAMN OCCASION IS WHAT I’M SAYING.
Reason being, the post you see before you marks the 500th BLOG POST here on the Warchief’s Command Board. That’s right, bitches, 500 posts — that’s FIVE ZERO ZERO. Go ahead and count ’em. I KNOW YOU WON’T.
But that’s where we are, people — 500 installments of EVERYBODY’S FAVORITE BLOG EVER. And riddle me this: have you read them all?
Yeah, me neither.
I mean, there were a bunch in there by guest posters like Spazzle and Mokvar, and I like those guys and everything, but not enough to actually give a shit about what they have to say about… like… anything. But whatever — like trees falling in the forest with no one there to hear them, those guests posts still… um… make a… sound when they…crash the server and… um… that is…
OKAY, THAT ONE GOT AWAY FROM ME A LITTLE, TOO. I MAY OR MAY NOT BE WORKING ON A COUPLE DRINKS, OKAY, SO STFU.
Anyhow. I’d like to thank all my loyal readers, and say that I couldn’t have done it without you. I’d LIKE to say that, but I can’t, because I totally could have. Let’s be real, scrubs, I’m the awesome one here, not you. THERE’S A REASON WHY YOU’RE READING MY BLOG AND NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND, NOW ISN’T THERE?
But still, the occasion calls for something special, so in keeping with this month’s theme — I DO have a Poetry Challenge in progress, after all — I figured I’d take a look back at a 500-stack of EPIC the only proper way EPIC gets done:
That “LOK’TAR OGAR!” that I blogged for a starter;
I met D&U, but my wyvern’s way smarter;
Krom’gar dropped a bomb, but I dropped his ass harder;
EO gaming, “why fly” malaprop.
Twilights on a mission for that Cho’gall demon;
Ogres versus Grimtotem, and Magatha schemin’;
Johnny Awesome, beat it; Garona, keep dreamin’;
Saurfang took a turn watching the shop.
That time I went AWOL, then I was recovered;
Grabby Mylune hugged me till I damn near smothered;
Garadar reunion with my long-lost mother;
Year one challenge, rhymes of locks in socks.
Mom was just a cruel trick Magatha unraveled;
Trouble for Forsaken; Tirion’s endless babble;
Head to old Southshore thanks to FUCKING TIME TRAVEL;
Human Faranell’s a paradox.
Psycho!Mylune rampaged, eyes more wild than dewy;
Edwin fucked the past up; all the timelines went screwy;
We straightened them out; Theramore went kablooey;
Went to Karazhan to spin some tunes.
Pandas showed up teaching how anger is managed;
Got myself some trainees: DPS advantage;
Someone ganked Mokvar; he ankhed and wound up bandaged;
Rolled up on Pandaria with my goons.
Gurtash started drawing; Vol’jin stopped his breathing;
Cloudfall spoke of destiny and got me near believing;
Mokvar met Magatha, that one had me seething;
He went off the grid — he’d best run far.
Lor’the’whatsit’s bitching still; I got pounced by Tak;
Snagged the Divine Bell; that’s when Jaina blew her stack;
DPS got lost, but I (mostly) got them back;
Meet my daughter, Shay. (Have a cigar.)
Shay’s mage class was hard, her sucker punch was hardest;
Mokvar reappeared with green fire from the Black Harvest;
Gurtash got blindsided, we were down an artist;
Made an offer Blackfuse can’t refuse.
Green-eyed wolf named Golmash acting pretty fishy;
Gurtash still needs training not to be so squishy;
Utvoch got promoted, but I kinda wish he
And Dontrag weren’t always so confused.
EPIC VERSE and lemon squares, endless reader mail;
Ruekie getting ruekied; eternal minion fail;
Mortimer’s a badass; Shayari’s hunting sales;
Earth Online guild chat is always strange.
FYV; #LadiesLoveMe, ’cause they’re not slumming;
Trolls are always trolling, dumbasses are dumbing;
500 down so far, a thousand more coming!
Okay, maybe. Times could always change.
EPIC VERSE!
Keep checking in, people. The EPIC DROPS are only just warming up.
LOK’TAR!
Worg in sheep’s clothing
Mokvar’s been keeping me posted on his research into the Golmash situation, and needless to say I don’t like the sound of this one bit. I finally decided it was time for me to go over to have a look at this wolf personally. Mokvar came with, since he’s already deep into the situation, plus Shayari decided she was going to tag along, mainly because I think she heard me talking about going over to the Hunter’s Hall and got the idea in her head that maybe it was like a petting zoo or some shit. Granted, it’s not like she’s got any part in this business, but I’ve already learned how little good it goes to try to get her to stay put when she’s got her mind set on going somewhere. (I really was hoping that would skip a generation.)
So the bunch of us headed over to the Hunter’s Hall this morning. That also marks the first time I’ve gotten to have a little face time with Ogunaro Wolfrunner, after having had a fair bit of contact with him through his mailbag letters. Good guy, make no mistake, but yeah, Mokvar wasn’t kidding, dude could not be more earnest if he tried. I can see why his kid grew up seriously needing to unclench a little. Speaking of whom, Corkrok passed his om’riggor since last we heard. Good on him. No surprise, of course — he seemed plenty driven. I can already tell he’s going to be a regular laugh riot for Overlord Runthak, though, when the kid hitches on with his trainee unit.
Anyhow, on to the main event.
So the plan was twofold — one, for me to have a look for myself at this wolf and see what the hubbub is about, between Ogunaro’s reports and Mokvar’s creeped-out investigations and his suspicion there might actually be someone in there. And two, to move Golmash over to a special pen I’ve had set up at the Kor’kron stables, where he can be kept isolated and under close observation, as opposed to the general stables we have open to the public at the Hunter’s Hall.
Part one went smoothly enough, even if it was disturbing. As per my orders, Ogunaro had Golmash isolated from the other wolves. I’d heard plenty about him, but this was my first time seeing him with my own eyes. Ogunaro and Mokvar weren’t kidding about how creepy this wolf is. On paper, I wouldn’t have figured that the green glow in his eyes would be as unnerving as it is, but the more you watch him, the more disturbing it seems. It doesn’t even jump right out at you — you can miss it if you aren’t really watching, but once you notice it, it’s like you can’t look away. Green and glowing, with that dull haze that somehow manages to glow and look dead at the same time. I wouldn’t have thought that combination was possible. (Then again, D&U manage to keep themselves alive while, you know, being D&U, so that probably shows all you need to know about seeming contradictions. If you don’t have a taste for paradox, you better not try taking life straight.)
It’s a weird coincidence that Ogunaro decided to name the wolf after my grandfather, the first to carry the name Hellscream. Golmash (the original, not the four-legged knockoff) died in the jaws of a giant gronn — but not before he drove Gorehowl into the giant’s skill to bring it down with him. I almost hate to admit it, but if it wasn’t for this whole creepy fel-tinged level to what’s going on, I would even think the name was fitting — one look and you get the feeling that if Gruul tried to swallow this wolf, he’d probably claw his way right out of Gruul’s mouth, up through his eye, and probably rip out his brain while he was at it.
So that was part one.
Part two ended up being more complicated than I was counting on. We already had a couple Kor’kron beastmasters on hand at Ogunaro’s place, keeping an eye on Golmash, and I had a couple other sent over to meet us when I went to pay my visit. Plus I made a point of putting extra guards around the Valley of Honor, and cleared a route from the Hunter’s Hall to the Kor’kron stables. So you would THINK that would be enough to handle the damn mutt.
YOU WOULD BE WRONG.
We might have had plans to transport Golmash over to the location, but Golmash had no such plans to go anywhere, and evidently when the best-laid plans of worgs and orcs run into each other, what oft goes awry is any delusion I might have had of getting things done quickly so I can grab an early lunch. Because that just would have been too fucking convenient.
According to Ogunaro, Golmash had been kind of ornery when he moved him into his current pen as per my instructions, but the wolf ultimately went along with it. Apparently, though, the furball was getting crankier by the day. The Kor’kron beastmasters tried to maneuver him along the exit path we’d planned, but Golmash was having none of it. At one point, two of the beastmasters tried to direct Golmash along with training prods, but even that wound up being a bad idea — he lunged right past the prods and onto one of the beastmasters. And I mean, I guess he probably didn’t NEED that arm, strictly speaking — it was just his left, after all — but it still has to be a drag being short one. Unless he came from the Shattered Hand clan, in which case, you know, either overdue or ironic, depending on how you look at it. He still fared better, though, than another one of the beastmasters who tried to help pull Golmash off him, because… well, the less said about that the better. The word “entrails” comes to mind.
So right about then, I was having one of my need-better-minions moments, what with multiple supposed “beastmasters” not exactly fully specced into actual beast mastery, and one of them apparently not having put any points into survival, either. Or I WOULD have been having one of those moments if it weren’t for the fact that I was busy dealing with a suddenly highly agitated, seemingly fel-compromised worg that may or may not be carrying some heretofore unknown spiritual cargo that makes KILLING him a non-starter even if DON’T TEMPT ME, while finding myself short one-and-a-quarter beastmasters, with Ogunaro running around the place swapping out his 3/3 Enhanced Earnestness to respec deep into Freakout while he tried to keep the surrounding pens under control, what with Golmash’s antics having gotten a whole bunch of the OTHER nearby stabled animals all riled up and agitated. And granted, this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve found myself in a minion-related situation that I would compare to being a zoo, but come the fuck ON, universe, this is making it a little on-the-nose even for me.
So it was right around this point, when I was finally coming to the realization that yelling at the gaggle of panicking fuckers to pull their heads out of their asses and HANDLE it, that Shayari of all people actually had the presence of mind to pop a rapid-fire polymorph on Golmash. Which was pretty clutch, I’ve gotta say. Must be the Hellscream blood. (I even said something to her to that effect, but that just got her curious about family history and asking questions about Grom, but I managed to sidestep THAT long story by promising to tell her about it once we weren’t hip-deep in stupidity. I figure that oughta buy me at least a month or two.)
Anyhow, at THAT point, getting the wolf moved was a fairly simple task, since even those beastmasters — whose job title I’m seriously beginning to reconsider on grounds of irony — managed not to have too much trouble transporting a fucking sheep a little ways across town. And if the lot of them felt kind of embarrassed strolling through Orgrimmar in their badass Kor’kron armor and toting heavy-duty don’t-fuck-with-me weaponry while providing armed escort to a fucking SHEEP, well you know what? GOOD. Maybe next time, if they want to stroll around looking all hardcore, they should maybe figure out a way to STAY ON TOP OF THE HARDCORE-TYPE ASSIGNMENTS.
Ugh.
So. Wolf is under wraps in a controlled environment, is what I’m saying.
Or so I’d like to think. But, you know, based on recent field results, who knows. I’ll say this, all these trainees we’ve got coming up through the ranks are going to have all fucking kinds of room for career advancement right quick. Now if you’ll excuse me, in the meantime, I think I need to go put a “Jobs Available” post on Kragslist.
More soon.
Further poetic meditations on SUPREME IDIOCY
Okay, people, as promised, it’s time for our first installment of GARROSH’S POETRY CHALLENGE: The Make You Lazy Fuckers Do Some of the Work For a Change Edition. Although we’re probably going to just go with “Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge” for short, because the full title is probably a little cumbersome to try to cram onto the cover when the paperback comes out. ANYWAY. Luckily, not ALL of you lazy fuckers in question were COMPLETELY lazy this time around (but let’s make no mistake, some of you were, and I HAVE MY EYE ON YOU NOW, YES I SURE DO, SPARKY), so we’ve got candidates for this first edition.
So today’s proud contributor, whole WHOLE LIFE WILL NO DOUBT BE GRANTED NEW MEANING by her recognition here, is @LibFeathers, a regular Twitter contributor… um… participant… follow… erm… I KNOW HER MOSTLY FROM TWITTER, OKAY? Go follow her and get the fuck off my back.
Anyhow, here’s Libby’s contribution:
When Garrosh took over the Horde
two orcs caused some major discord.
A sergeant and scout –
such nonsense they’d spout.
Their behavior he truly deplored.
Sergeant Dontrag was never without
his old buddy Utvoch, the scout.
They joked, goofed, and roared.
They could not be ignored.
So Garrosh whacked them both right on the snout.
Not fucking bad, if I do say so myself. Of course, if I DID say so myself, as in said the actual POEM myself, it would be at least 280% more EPIC, but that’s no criticism of her because let’s be real, you people aren’t expected to perform at my level.
So, speaking of performing at my level and saying so myself, hold on to your asses, bitches, because it’s my turn, PICKING RIGHT UP WHERE LIBBY LEFT OFF:
So Dontrag and Utvoch blabbed on,
Till Garrosh just wished they were gone.
He chugged down a gallon,
Sent them to Stonetalon;
They came back; the whacks were back on.
Alas, the whacking did no good!
(It’s amazing how much they withstood.)
Despite all the pain,
D&U grew no brains;
Possibly due to heads made of wood.
When Gurtash rode off on wolfback,
Garrosh gathered up D, U, & Tak,
Decreed that this group’ll
Keep tabs on his pupil,
Just in case he came under attack.
That plan proved clairvoyant because
Gurtash doesn’t fight well; Utvoch does.
As reward for that stunt
He made Utvoch a Grunt,
Despite not knowing which one he was.
Garrosh tried to fix that with a spell,
But it didn’t work out very well;
Full of fail so contagious,
So disadvantageous,
Even arcane enchants go to fel.
Garrosh can’t make them shut up or shoo,
So for now some good earplugs will do.
I’ll repeat this forever:
You know you can’t ever
Spell dumbass without D and U.
EPIC VERSE!
THERE YOU GO, motherfuckers. DEAL WITH IT.
So, as I said the other day, this is going to be a weekly feature for National Poetry Month, so get your own poetic compositions in and see if I decide to grace them with the Garrosh treatment. SAME EPIC TIME, SAME EPIC WEBSITE.
[Keep those lyrical masterpieces coming! All submissions received by next Monday (April 11) will be eligible for next Thursday’s installment of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge! Feel free to use the email link in the upper right sidebar, or, contact form incoming…]
Identity crisis
So, I got a comment from Khizzara on that last mailbag that kind of got me thinking. See, she looked at the picture Sarlin sent with her letter about running into Dontrag and Utvoch in Ashenvale, and how it looks like they have their names floating over their heads, which they actually DON’T and it just looked that way because Sarlin did some kind of thingy-whatsy with the picture after the fact. Which is kind of a dumb thing not to recognize right off, especially from someone like Khizzara who’s supposed to be a mage and smart and stuff, but maybe her int buff isn’t working or some shit. Or maybe Spazzle just got the brains in the family. Whatever.
Anyhow, though, that comment got me thinking about how handy it would be if those two DID have their names hovering over their heads, because let’s face it, Khizzara DOES have a point about how nobody can tell the Wonder Twins apart. And granted, in my case, that’s at least partly due to me not really giving a shit, but still. It’ll save at least a couple headaches.
I figured I’d see about getting some actual return on my investment in all these mage lessons Shayari’s been getting from Faranell over in the Undercity, so I gave her a new project to work on: casting a glamor spell (she liked the sound of that a lot more before I spelled out what I meant) on Dontrag and Utvoch that actually WOULD make their names float over their heads. Turns out, that kind of a spell wasn’t even all that complicated to put together.
Hold your horses. You know what usually happens around here when something looks like smooth sailing.
So Shay tried her spell out yesterday, and at first everything seemed to be going fine. “Dontrag” hovering over Dontrag (I think), “Utvoch” hovering over Utvoch (I believe), and, so far as the spell was to be believed, 70% less confusion about which of those idiots was which, and a residual 30% reduction in how much I needed to smack them around. Which I know is a lot less than the 70%, but come on, they’re still dumb and annoying, right? NO JURY WOULD CONVICT ME.
So that seemed to be going fine. But then, after a little while, the spell started going haywire. As in, it kept putting the names over Dumb and Dumber’s heads, but it started switching them around — putting “Dontrag” over Utvoch and “Utvoch” over Dontrag. Now, mind you, I didn’t really notice this myself right away, largely because recognizing the problem would require me to care enough about which of them is which, and I mean, if I could just LOOK at those two and know who was D and who was U, I wouldn’t NEED the damn glamor in the first place, right? But at one point while Shay was tinkering with the spell, Taktani bounced by, and don’t ask me how but she always seems to be able to keep those two idiots straight. I don’t know, she’s a cat most of the time, so maybe her kitty-sense tingles or something. Point is, the names started switching around. Why, I don’t know. Maybe Shay forgot to cross some T’s and dot some I’s setting up the spell. Maybe the sheer AURA OF FAILURE that surrounds those two is so potent that it even makes magic break down after a while. Maybe they’re just so damn indistinguishable that even the UNIVERSE ITSELF gets confused eventually, magic or no. Don’t ask me, I just work here.
Thing is, that wasn’t even the worst of it. Because, see, obviously the glamor was visible to EVERYONE, right? So the Wonder Twins themselves could read each other’s arcane name tags, but then, when the spell started going wonky and mixing them up, THE IDIOTS THEMSELVES started getting all distressed and confused and thinking THEY had it wrong, and maybe they weren’t really who they thought they were. And this led to like an hour and a half of Dontrag worrying that he might actually be Utvoch, and Utvoch getting an ulcer thinking he’s been living a lie when he should have been Dontrag, until finally I had to bonk their damn heads together to shut them up because who needs to to listen to that shit.
So while they were out cold, I had Shay lift the damn spell. It’s just not fucking worth it if it’s not even going to work half the time, and just gives those two one more thing to yammer about. Hell, who the fuck would have guessed that one little would-be hocus-pocus convenience would result in a pair of blithering mental defectives having a full-on existential crisis?
So yeah. Back to the drawing board. Moving on.
More soon.
Monday mailbag
Another Monday, another batch of letters. Let’s see what my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS have to say to their favorite Warchief…
I feel like it’s been quite some time since last we corresponded. As it happens, I have been travelling, and taking a quill to parchment didn’t really make the cut of amazing new things to do. Which I happen to have recorded on a piece of parchment that I believe I wrote up two weeks ago. Anywho. By the way, did Rue’kara get her writing supplies back?
Anyway, my travels took me and Anaria to Ashenvale, where I made a very brief stop at the Silverwind Outpost to gather some rations and fresh arrows. Don’t worry, Ana stayed outside. I think she was freaked out by all the Night Elf corpses. Which, by the way, I totally respect you fighting a war and all, but couldn’t you at least clean them up?
Anyway…what I really wanted to bring up with you was the fact that I may or may not have bumped into your orcish associates, Seargent Dontrag and Scout Utvoch. Photographic evidence below;
My question may be perceived as rhetorical, but I am genuinely intrigued; where did they learn math? And also, when did math start becoming relevant in the days of the week? I think there was something about Brewfest math too but I’d zoned out at that point.
I really am sorry.
I hope your luck is treating you well.
–Sarlinia-Grace Starstriker, Argent Crusade
Well I’ll be damned, Sarlin, you were able to get in under the 250-word limit without even breaking a sweat. Will wonders ever cease.
So… yeah. You met those two. And… just to recap, for anyone who wasn’t paying attention, let me direct your attention to Sarlin in this picture…
…and yeah, that’s pretty much the look I have on MY face when the Wonder Twins turn up, too.
By the way, it’s not Scout Utvoch anymore, just FYI. He’s Grunt Utvoch now, as of a couple days ago when he got a promotion. Was he still wearing his Scout insignia? Minor point, I know, but stay tuned, we’ll come back to it.
Good news is, Sarlin, I’ve got an easy answer for your question. Where did D&U learn math? They didn’t. Pro tip: any time a question begins “Where did D&U learn,” the answer is they didn’t. Every single time.
To be honest with you, though, I’m less concerned about D&U’s grasp of math (hang on — I think reality just shuddered a little at me stringing THOSE words together consecutively) than I am about their grasp of GEOGRAPHY. You say you ran into them at SILVERWIND REFUGE? Just… hanging out like they were ON DUTY or something?
Dude… they USED to be stationed out there, then I fucking reassigned them to Stonetalon… like TWO YEARS AGO. They served there under Krom’gar (and the less said about THAT motherfucker the better), then STAYED up that way when I put the region under Overlord Cliffwalker’s jurisdiction. And okay, then Cliffwalker pulled a fast one on me and shipped their asses down to Pandaria to get them out of his hair and back into mine. And for this past little while now, while I’ve been back in Orgrimmar, they’ve been in town here too, temporarily, pending the return trip south.
And the reason I’m even going into this much detail about it is so you can really appreciate the chain of travels, relocations, and reassignments that D&U have had SINCE the last time they were supposed to be in Silverwind Refuge.
And yet, there they were.
You know what? Fuck it. Good place for ’em. Let Captain Tarkan worry about what to do with ’em. Maybe they can go farm some Molten Front dailies, too, while they’re keeping busy in Three-Major-Villains-Ago Land. Maybe that’s just how slow their brains are, that they’re still getting caught up from like two years ago, and so every so often they have a collective brain fart and think they’re still supposed to be at the base where they USED to be stationed and HEY EUREKA maybe THAT’S why Utvoch was still going by “Scout,” because the goddamn hamster wheel in his brain is still spin spin spinning around trying to get caught up to TODAY, and sometimes the hamster falls over in the wheel and gets whipped around a few hundred times and in its dizzy confusion it has to take a wild guess at what year it is and sometimes it guesses wrong. So HEY, UTVOCH, in case you’re reading this, check it out, THE LICH KING IS DEAD NOW, CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT SHIT?
Isn’t Rhonin dead? I live in Dalaran and I hear him say something, like, every five minutes or something? Something about raising our eyes to the skies and observing? Why am I still hearing this? Is Rhonin’s ghost haunting us forever with his endless speech?
–Clarise Sunbow
Okay, so, I think I’m kind of in a unique position to say, definitely, that yes, Rhonin is dead. No two ways about it, dude got himself deaded up right good. Still, Clarise, that IS one hell of a weird thing to be stuck listening to over and over all day (not to mention annoying as fuck), so I went ahead and did a little research for you. NO NEED TO THANK ME. Seeing as you’ve apparently got a dead guy turning up and doing the same shit over and over, I went ahead and consulted with my own resident dead guy with a history of doing the same shit over and over, Doc Faranell over in the Undercity. Well, that is, I TRIED consulting with him on this. He mostly just kind of stared at me forlornly. Not especially helpful, really. Come to think of it, maybe Faranell wouldn’t know as much about this as I was thinking. I mean, yeah, two dead guys, but “walking around playing poker on Fridays”-dead is a lot different from “blown up by a mana bomb”-dead.
Luckily, though, I WAS eventually able to drag a possible answer out of Faranell, but he did it drawing more from the part where he’s a mage than from the part where he’s a reanimated dead guy with a history of being trapped in infinitely repeating time loops. Which, of the two, is really kind of the more mundane part of Faranell’s deal, and come to think of it, what kind of crazy bizarro world are we stuck in where being a fucking WIZARD is the BORING thing about someone? But anyhow, Faranell blathered some stuff about what’s probably going on, a lot of which I don’t really remember too well because it involved a load of technical magic talk and also because I wasn’t paying attention too closely because, let’s be honest, I don’t really care that much. BUT I SAID I WAS GOING TO GET YOU AN ANSWER, DAMMIT.
We soldier on.
So the gist of it is that after Rhonin got his ass arcane-kablooeyed all across the swamp, something about his personal magic power got amped up by the mana bomb magic power and the Focusing Iris magic power and did a thing with the whole Dalaran magic-ground-zero power, and something about a place that was personally important to him, and some other shit Faranell said that who the fuck can follow and who even cares really, and the end result is there’s some kind of arcane echo of Rhonin that’s been projected into Dalaran that keeps replaying a moment of his life over and over again. Which kind of makes me glad the dude never swung by this neck of the woods for a visit, because I’ve got enough pains in the ass to deal with without having to listen to “CITIZENS OF ORGRIMMAR! LOOK TO THE SKY!” every five minutes.
Tomorrow I am going to the Valley of Trials to face my om’riggor. At my father’s insistence, I write to you to confirm I will be joining that trainee program of yours, though I fail to see what I’ll get out of it. For the record, my father told me I should become a hunter, but I am no hunter’s son. Perhaps the Thunderlord of old thought that was good enough for them, but my father keeps wolves and my mother was a warrior, so I will keep wolves and fight for Orgrimmar. I was surprised when he told me, though; all I was ever told about my ancestral clan was that they kept the last wolf pen on Draenor around the time of the reign of Ner’zhul.
If you and my father are truly so frightened I will get myself killed, let me make this vow: when I am seasoned enough to command my own warriors, I will find my mothers killers and make them pay. Until then, I will bide my time, study the Alliance’s tactics and strike when they least expect it. I would kill those beasts now if I could, but they will only grow older and grayer, while I will grow stronger and tougher, as the years pass, after all. It will make my task easier, I’m sure.
–Corkrok Wolfrunner
P.S. By the way, your shaman friend hasn’t helped matters any – that wretched green-eyed wolf is still at it, and my father still doesn’t know what’s causing his condition.
Oh Corkrok…
…all these flavors, and you just had to choose to be salty, didn’t you?
You know, I get the sense that you’ve got some weird read on me that’s making you think I’m AGAINST you going after the humans who killed your mother. Let’s clear this up — I get it, okay? The Alliance killed your mother — reason #87,403 to rid the world of them –and you want them dead. GOOD. Awesome. I’m all for it. I am 100% UTTERLY PRO DEAD HUMANS. Are we clear on this?
The only thing your father and I want to make sure of is that you’re fully prepared when the time comes for you to square off against them in battle. So guess what — that means WE ALL WANT THE SAME DAMN THING. So, to that end, I’m assigning you to Overlord Runthak’s trainee group. He’s one of our best warriors and no stranger to the Alliance tactics (pfft) that you seem so keen to study up on. You stick with him, and soon enough you’ll get your chance to have at the humans.
As for the “green-eyed wolf” — Golmash, if I remember right — I know it’s still a work in progress. I’ve been getting reports from Mokvar, who’s the “shaman friend” you mentioned… well, other than the fact that he’s really NOT a shaman, he just used to be, but then I guess I can’t really blame you for getting that mixed up because honestly, dude changes classes more often than ogres change underwear (i.e., more than once per lifetime). And, well, if we’re being totally real here, even the “friend” part is at least debatable. But still. Yeah. He’s been keeping me up to date on his research. We’ve got a couple possible leads, but it might not be a situation with a quick fix. More updates to follow on that one. Probably best to let your father and me and my, um, shaman warlock friend friend (?) oh fuck it whatever friend worry about this one for the time being. Stay tuned.
In the meantime, good luck with the om’riggor, and glad to see you finally coming to your senses about training. Well, sort of, at least. See above re: salty. But, you know, whatever gets the job done, right?
What strength or other quality do you wish you/the Horde could assimilate or appropriate from the Alliance or other factions/enemies.
Undying loyalty,
–Sintra E’Drien
I mean, if we’re talking about one side APPROPRIATING things from the other, you maybe want to go talk to the ALLIANCE about where they got that awesome idea to set up a Brawler’s Guild. Just sayin’. I mean, not for nothing, but nothing pisses me off more than people ripping off my ideas (with the possible exceptions of Magatha and Johnny Awesome and gnomes and humans and murlocs and people who sit there on their big-ass mounts blocking the mailbox because FUCK those people). Seriously, what’s next? How many more of my ideas are going to get ripped off by assholes? Is somebody going to steal the genius idea to travel back to the past that I had forever ago? Or WAS it forever ago? WHO’S TO SAY, because FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.
As for qualities I’D like to copy from the Alliance… um… hmm. Kind of drawing a blank here, to tell you the truth. The night elves and draenei both have massive lifespans, so I guess that would be pretty cool. Although the blood elves live a damned long time, too, because elves, and I suppose the Forsaken are pretty much immortal as long as nobody KILLS them kills them, because, you know, they already died once and who wants to do that shit again? But that means we’ve already got the super-duper lifespans covered in-house… So… nope. I got nothin’.
So… hmm… maybe I can take a look at some of the other factions out there and see if they have anything going for them…
Timbermaw Hold — I don’t have some quality that I’d want to gain from them, exactly, but I DO find it kinda cool how, due to some tribal technicality, they recognize the Warchief of the Horde — whoever that happens to be — as an Archbishop. True story. I have the funny hat to prove it.
The Keepers of Time — Don’t even get me started. Also, not for nothing, but why do we actually have the Keepers of Time, AND the Scale of the Sands, AND the Brood of Nozdormu? Aren’t they all pretty much the same thing? Or is this some kind of freaky time travel thing where they literally ARE the same thing but from overlapping timelines and they need to use different names to make sure they don’t cross the streams because timey whimey and OMG FUCKING TIME TRAVEL. HEAD HURTS.
The Argent Crusade — I would love to have their apparent ability to be around Tirion all day and somehow not feel an overpowering urge to KILL EVERYTHING EVER.
The Sons of Hodir — Okay, you know what? This isn’t a trait that the whole faction has, and for that matter, it’s not even something I would want to pass on to the entire Horde. It’s purely something about that Thorim dude that I’d like to grab up for myself. The guy does an absolutely KILLER Baine Bloodhoof voice. Annoys the living FUCK out of Baine. Always has. Just being REMINDED of Thorim gets Baine all grumbly. Next time you’re in Thunder Bluff, in fact, roll up on Baine and just go “IN THE MOUNTAINS!” in the best Thorim voice you can manage. Even if it’s not that good. Maybe even ESPECIALLY if it’s not that good. Just try it. Anyway, I bet it would be a fucking BLAST if I could do the voice like ol’ MC Hammer does.
Tushui Pandaren — Okay, so here we go. I knew if I mulled it over for long enough, I’d be able to come up with SOMEBODY from within the Alliance that had something going for them. So, here you go, Sintra, here’s something from an Alliance sub-faction that I’d like to emulate myself — a picture’s worth a thousand words:
Nuff said, motherfucker. Nuff said.
I understand that some of my past conduct may have accidentally agitated you, but I am writing to assure you of my resolve to make amends and offer my ongoing service!
As one of your followers informed you in your last mailbag (See? I am even a regular blog reader and fan. Not disuaded by all the bounty hunters you have sent after me!), I recently risked great bodily harm to make up for past mistakes and eliminate Magatha Grimtotem on your behalf!
Unfortunately she managed to get away. I know I must have hurt her a lot though! Those Face Melters pack a wallop, and I can only imagine they must do even more damage to the target than the user. Otherwise I may have made a very poor investment.
But as you can see, my loyalty has not wavered! Even after all the time I have needed to spend in hiding. And so I write to you now in hopes that my efforts with the Grimtotem crone will return me to your good graces.
The blade of Johnny Awesome awaits your bidding warchief!
Lock-tar ogre,
–Johnny Awesome, Felwood
So, a few points here.
First, for anyone who doesn’t remember… ugh, now I actually have to relive this shit again… I ran into this Johnny Awesome guy a couple years ago while Garona and I were working a case, and he was all looking for missions to make himself useful, and so, you know, I went into questgiver mode and sent him off to Thousand Needles to find some busywork for himself or maybe hopefully get himself killed. IF ONLY. And so OF COURSE it would JUST SO HAPPEN that the Twilight nutjob cult was holding Magatha PRISONER in Thousand Needles, and she duped ol’ Johnny Asshole into HELPING her, and then she went prancing off on her merry way and don’t even get me STARTED on the whole shitstorm she stirred up from THERE.
So, second, yeah, this is THAT Johnny Awesome.
Which leads us to THIRD AND FOURTH, holy fucking shit do I fucking HATE that guy, YES I DO.
Oh, and, FIFTH, he didn’t exactly help his cause by somehow managing to fuck up “Lok’tar ogar” while writing to THE GODDAMN WARCHIEF looking for forgiveness.
But, on the topic of your request there, Johnny, let me put it this way:
SIXTH — Look at that, people, HE JUST TOLD YOU HE’S IN FELWOOD. THE BOUNTY’S NOW UP TO TWO MILLION GOLD — GET OUT THERE, GET HUNTING, AND BRING ME THE HEAD OF JOHNNY MOTHERFUCKING AWESOME!
That’s all for this time. Keep sending those letters. But not before you head up to Felwood and lay some decapitating on ol’ Sparkle-Pony-Boy.
More soon.
[The Warchief’s next mailbag will be Monday, May 2. Send your questions, comments, or other missives to Garrosh via or email through the link in the upper right sidebar, or, as always, using the handy-dandy form below:]
Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge IV
Okay, people, it’s that time of year — National Poetry Month — when yours truly regales the world by demonstrating yet again my mind-blowing, life-altering, pants-soiling talent in the field of dropping a killer rhyme. That can only mean one thing: a brand spanking new edition of GARROSH’S POETRY CHALLENGE, complete with brand spanking new EPIC VERSE, coming soon to a blog near you. Which is to say, THIS blog. BECAUSE WHAT OTHER BLOG WOULD YOU WASTE YOUR FUCKING TIME BEING NEAR?
This time around, I’m adding a new wrinkle to the challenge — and issuing a challenge to YOU, my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS, to step up and contribute to the cause as well. Because let’s face it, where EPIC VERSE is concerned, there are way too many GODDAMN FREELOADERS out there, so it’s about damn time you people GOT OFF YOUR LAZY ASSES AND EARNED YOUR DAMN KEEP.
SO. WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN IS—
HOLD UP.
HANG ON. I THINK THE FUCKING CAPS LOCK ON THIS THING IS BROKEN. FOR FUCK’S SAKE. LET ME GO GRAB SPAZZLE AND SEE IF HE CAN FIX IT. WHICH HE’D BETTER, BECAUSE OTHERWISE THE ONLY WAY I’M GOING TO BE ABLE TO EMPHASIZE MY POINTS IS WITH BOLD FACE OR ITALICS AND REALLY, THAT ON TOP OF ALL CAPS IS JUST FUCKNG OVERKILL.
SO OKAY. I’LL BE RIGHT BACK. SIT TIGHT AND DON’T GO ANYWHERE.
…
Okay, so now that that’s fixed, where was I? OH THAT’S RIGHT.
Hang on.
Testing.
Okay. We’re good.
CARRYING ON. So as I was saying, for THIS year’s poetry challenge, I’m going to put you people to work, because I figured, fuck, why should I be the only one who does something to honor the occasion?
So here’s the deal: Every Monday in April, you jokers are invited — read: REQUIRED — to cook up your very own EPIC VERSE in honor of National Poetry Month. (Or, you know, let’s face it, for most of you third-stringers, it’s probably something more like Uncommon Verse.) You can write about any topic you want, you can make it as long or as short as you want, you can bask in the magical glow of total creative freedom to your heart’s content. The only string attached is that it has to be an ORIGINAL poem — it can’t be something you’ve posted elsewhere, and OBVIOUSLY you can’t go steal someone ELSE’S poem, because there’s nothing more fucking pathetic than ripping off someone else’s intellectual property to make yourself look creative. (Cough.)
Submit your (ahem) masterpieces to me by the end of the day each Monday in April, either through email (link at the top of the right sidebar) or using the form at the bottom of this post.
Then, every Thursday, I’ll pick the best of the week’s submissions, put it up on the blog in a new post, and — most importantly, let’s be honest — offer my own EPIC VERSE response. Maybe I’ll write an original poem on the same topic. Maybe I’ll continue the story you started. Maybe I’ll take some facet of your poem as a jumping-off point. Maybe I’ll come up with something else entirely. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS. One way or another, though, I’ll write something that plays off of your original, and I’ll try to emulate the form you used for your poem (limerick, sonnet, whatever) while I’m at it. I’ll even try not to embarrass you by blowing you out of the water too badly, but no hard promises on that one, because really.
And hey, if I get more than one poem I really like submitted in a given week, maybe you’ll get a bonus post or two. WHO’S TO SAY? THERE’S YOUR INCENTIVE TO BE PROLIFIC, MOTHERFUCKERS.
And as an added incentive — as if being immortalized forever on the internet in indelible pixels wasn’t fucking enough — anyone who manages to overcome their own crippling mediocrity to actually IMPRESS me with a submission that goes above and beyond the call of duty gets to go home with a pet of their choosing, stolen right out from under the nose of Breanni the pet vendor. (Yes, I know she’s in Dalaran. Yes, I know my people aren’t exactly welcome there these days. I HAVE MY WAYS, OKAY?)
So, what the fuck are you waiting for? Get writing! YOUR WARCHIEF AWAITS YOUR LYRICAL ATTEMPTS AT ADEQUACY.
Submit your masterpiece! First deadline is Monday, April 4.
Four Heads are (Slightly) Better than Two
You know, it’s a funny thing how sometimes, when you think you’ve reached a dead end, life ends up throwing you a bone. (Or maybe a mixed metaphor?) Ever since I looked in on Golmash — that worg that Ogunaro Wolfrunner reported showing some disturbing behavior (major undersell, by the way) — I’d been trying to research a few possible ideas involving shaman and warlock magic, but hadn’t been able to find anything. I felt like I’d run out of ideas.
That changed yesterday afternoon during a meeting between Garrosh, Lantresor, and a few others. Lantresor mentioned that he’d been accompanying Mogor the ogre down to Brackenwall Village every now and again, but Mogor (the ogre) had learned his way around well enough that he was going by himself to see Draz’Zilb.
That’s when it occurred to me that Draz’Zilb is pretty knowledgeable when it comes to shadow magic. Garrosh had brought him in on a project or two a while back, and he always seemed pretty sharp… you know, once you got past the evil. Then again, with my personal history, that’s something you learn to shrug off pretty quickly. Oh well.
I excused myself from the rest of the meeting so I could go look for Mogor. The ogre. Since I knew Garrosh had a security conference with Malkorok afterward, though, I sent for Taktani to cover for me with the notetaking. Granted, I don’t think Garrosh necessarily had anything he needed recorded in that particular meeting, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to leave Malkorok having to endure Tak’s, um, aggressive cheerfulness. And the hugs. No matter how much grouchier they made him. Which would only convince Tak that she needed to try harder to cheer Malkorok up. Now, sure, I wasn’t around to see any of this, but I can imagine it. And I do. Often. Whenever I’m having a bad day. It always puts a smile on my face. You should try it sometime.
I managed to track down Mogor just before he was about to leave for Dustwallow and convinced him to let me tag along. When we got there, Draz’Zilb set Mogor up with some sort of potion he’d been working on that restores a major chunk of Mogor’s intelligence. (I guess Mogor used to be a lot smarter. Don’t ask me what happened to him.) From what I gather, the effects of Draz’Zilb’s potion wear off after a matter of hours, which explains why Mogor’s been making a habit of going down there to see him.
An added benefit for me was that Mogor’s a shaman, and used to be a pretty good one, back before… you know… something happened to his head. Whatever it was. That meant he was able to join us in the conversation I was having with Draz’Zilb and actually contribute something from the shaman side of things. The whole thing had the added bonus of taking place in a remote location far removed from any prying eyes that might ordinarily be trying to peek in on business.
I won’t bore everyone with the details of the conversation. Lots of warlock and shaman shop talk. It ended up sounding pretty familiar, though, or at least reminiscent of some of that business Draz’Zilb was helping Garrosh deal with involving Magatha a couple years ago. Mogor was able to chip in a few odds and ends involving shaman incantations, particular some things he’d seen from some of the old orchish shamans back in the day. The end result of the discussion didn’t really tell me anything definite, but the more we talked, the more Draz’Zilb and Mogor were able to connect some dots from based on their experience, and what they had to say rang just true enough to make me think I may be on the right track.
I think I have a few avenues to take to try to follow up on this, mostly after we get back from Pandaria. The down side is that even if I’m thinking along the right lines, I don’t know how to test what I’m thinking, at least not without killing Golmash. Which I would imagine would defeat at least some of the point of the exercise. More importantly, though, if Golmash dies, I honestly don’t know what will happen. Or what we actually lose, or just how important the loss will be. But it has to be something important, because if I’m right, someone went to a lot of trouble and blurred a whole lot of lines. But I don’t know who, or when, or why. Part of me doesn’t even really want to find out.
Because here’s the gist of it. You remember when I said that the wolf’s growl sounded full, like there was more in there than even his voice could contain? If what I suspect is true, then I was more right then I realized. Only it’s not that there’s something more inside him. It’s that there’s someone.
I think Golmash is a soulstone.
Mokvar
“Contrary to popular belief, I can fix stupid.”
The Great Noblegarden Easter Egg Hunt!
Hi everyone — Averry here for a special announcement that simply wouldn’t make any sense coming from Garrosh. Specifically, I’m here to announce a special IN-BLOG CONTEST in honor of Noblegarden!
As long-time (and probably even short-time) readers know, my writing in the blog is punctuated by fairly frequent references — to movies, to music, to books, to other games, you name it. Some of these references are pretty blatant, while others are fairly subtle. But they’re all over the place, as evidenced by the fact that the “oblique references” tag, which I try to include on posts that include one of my obscure-or-not references, is one of the most common ones in the blog.
And so, this Noblegarden, you’re all invited to go Easter egg hunting, in the figurative sense! The contest is this: look through WCB posts that have been tagged for “oblique references,” and see how many of them you can correctly identify. Prizes to those who are able to ID the greatest number of them!
The nuts and bolts of how this will work:
- The contest begins as of the moment this post goes live, and will be open for entries until Noblegarden ends in-game at 2:00 PM EDT on Monday, April 4, 2016.
- Go to a post tagged with “oblique references” (look at that! thoughtfully linked for your convenience!) and see if you can spot the reference(s). Think you know where that familiar-sounding line came from? Great! Now click over to the blog’s Forum section, where I’ve added a new topic in the Blog Discussions forum (see how considerate I am, linking you over yet again!). Reply to this topic (or start your own, but please stay within the Blog Discussions section) and ID your reference(s). If you’re right, I’ll reply to your post to confirm it within 24 hours at the most; if you’re wrong, well, you’ll just hear crickets. THE FIRST PERSON to correctly identify the source of a given reference will get a point for finding an “Easter egg.” In the event of any dispute, the more specific identification wins the tiebreaker (i.e., “the scene in Star Wars when Luke first meets Princess Leia” trumps “Star Wars“).
- Winners will be determined, obviously, by whoever can accumulate the most points in the time the contest is running. Since a given reference will only award a point to one person, it’s to your advantage to jump on the ones you know as quickly as possible. You don’t, however, have to submit all your answers at the same time; it’s perfectly okay to add entries on the forum a few at a time, or even one at a time, if you feel that that will help you beat others to the punch on some references. If you submit multiple entries, please do so using the same screen name, so I can be sure to award you all the points you deserve.
- In case anyone’s wondering, I’m asking people to use the forum for their entries simply to prevent my email and Twitter from getting flooded with entries that I’ll need to keep organized and possibly track for timestamps. This way, everything is one place, and what’s more, you can all see which references have been correctly ID’ed. This is good for the contest, since you’ll know if a particular Easter egg is already off the table, but I think it could also be fun for everyone as readers, since the forum will basically become a running index of blog references that you might not have picked up on otherwise!
- All posts tagged with “oblique references” are fair game. I’m absolutely sure that there are also some posts on the blog without this tag that include references, but out of fairness to those who might not want to pore over every last post in the blog, anything without an “oblique reference” tag won’t count toward the contest.
- Also worth noting: Some posts tagged for references may include more than one. In fact, I can tell you in no uncertain terms, some of them do. Remember, points are awarded per Easter egg, not per post. Just because someone else already nabbed one of a post’s references doesn’t prevent you from scoring a point for the second or third.
So, what’s in it for you? You mean besides the fun of reliving some of your favorite moments from WCB past? Okay, fine, here’s the part about winners and prizes!
- One first-place winner will receive his or her choice of any mount available at the Blizzard Store, plus your very own plush Mortimer, which includes an in-game wyvern cub pet.
- Three second-place winners will receive their choice of any companion pet available from the Blizzard Store.
- If you already have all the mounts and pets you want, we can talk about substitutions of other items from the Blizzard Store. I’m sure we can find you something you’ll like!
I think that covers it, so what are you doing still sitting here reading? Get hunting!
(One other quick note — while you’re taking a stroll down blog-memory lane, why not toss a few star ratings on your favorite posts? (Or any/all of them!) This really isn’t just me fishing for praise. (I mean, I am fishing, but that’s not all I’m after!) I recently added a widget to the left sidebar that lists links for the blog’s top-rated posts; the only trouble is that when I moved WCB to its new domain, the ratings and likes that people had given on the old site didn’t carry over, so the current “Top Rated” listings are skewed toward recent material and overlook old favorites like “Anger management” or “Of wyverns and pine cones” or “Locks in Socks.” So, while you’re reliving some of the silliness of the past, why not balance out the voting a little?)
Be seeing you,
Averry
