Tag Archives: wyvern
Catch-Up Mechanic
A quick out-of-character preface to what will be something of an out-of-character installment — I knew that when I revived the blog, I wanted to include some recaps of what’s come before. After all, even I in all my arrogance couldn’t assume that everyone would remember what’s been going on after all this time. But I also didn’t want that recapping just to be paragraph after paragraph of exposition. I finally came up with an idea that should serve both to refresh everyone’s memory and also to quickly acclimate anyone who’s just now arriving. Hope you enjoy this slant on things… you’ll likely be seeing it again!
(As a minor side note, if you have trouble seeing any of the embedded text in the images to come, you can always click on them to see a larger version.)
And so, with no further ado… Let’s dip into an oddly familiar third-person view of our typically first-person story…
It all began a few years back, when an unsuspecting Garrosh noticed that Eitrigg seemed to have something on his mind…
The Warchief, unconvinced but curious, made his way over to the goblin part of town, where he found what would eventually become a very familiar face…
To make it happen, Spazzle had a followup quest of his own…
Although this one wasn’t quite as well-received as Eitrigg’s start to the chain…
Garrosh returned to Grommash Hold and did just that. And so, his second career as a very, very, very low-grade blogging celebrity began…
His first, but far from his last. Despite not-infrequent gaps and delays, the posts would keep on coming.
Okay, you get the point. It turns out that the big lug had a lot of thoughts and musings to share. But that initial suggestion that the Warchief go talk to Spazzle wasn’t the last time that Eitrigg would have a job for Garrosh, even in those early days.
Hoo boy. This one was going to keep Garrosh busy for a while, which, as you can well imagine, filled him with satisfaction with his career choices. On the up side, while conducting his inspections, he would manage to unlock various other side quests, not all of which were exactly a chore…
As you can imagine, he really was in his element.
That said, while it’s all fun and games while you’re blowing up night elves, afterward Garrosh needed to get back down to business and deal with a number of subpar performances.
By all appearances, that was the end of that. Mokvar got to work on his inscription, the wyvern got some much-needed exercise along the Winterspring-Silithus round-trip flight path, and all was well with Azeroth. Until a strange missive found its way into the Warchief’s weekly mailbag…
Okay, so with the mission done and Mortimer the wyvern back under Horde control, that was definitely the end of that.
Until, up late one night playing Earth Online, Garrosh heard a strange knocking at the door.
Lathorius’ attack against Garrosh went about as well as everything else he does. Mortimer came to the rescue, securing his place at Garrosh’s side, where he’s been ever since.
And Garrosh, meanwhile, wouldn’t see the last addition to his inner circle of followers. Because Eitrigg just never seemed to run out of ideas…
Don’t worry — we won’t be going through the whole blog step by step like this. But it’s a fun enough way to revisit some of the major story threads as we ramp back up. If there are particular events or storylines you’d especially like to see get this treatment, by all means chime in!
More soon!
Count Your Blessings
Okay, so, while I was brainstorming ideas for this last installment of EPIC VERSE, I put a call out on Twitter for suggestions, and you people stepped up with a bunch of options…
And I figured, why the fuck not, let’s just DO THEM ALL. IN ONE POEM.
Here we go. STRAP IN, BITCHES.
Last time around, we got started with promise
Then fizzled out. You were here, though. You saw this.
But now I’m giving it just one more trial,
Recounting things that make your Warchief smile.
You might be skeptical there’s such a list;
Maybe your guess is that I’m always pissed.
Yeah, well, try spending a year with this crew —
Your long fuse will become much shorter, too.
Anyway, never mind. Yeah, fuck that noise.
We won’t be dwelling on shit that annoys.
Forget about all that, and in its place
Let’s look at what brings a smile to my face.
Wyverns are awesome, dude, there’s no discounting.
None moreso than the one I’m epic-mounting.
Mortimer brings chimaeras to their knees;
So badass even the druid agrees.
After a wyvern ride, back home to quaff a
Giant-sized tankard of Pandaren kafa.
Say what you want, but those pandas are keen
When it comes time to deliver caffeine.
And while the kafa’s hot, Kor’kron chef’s makin’
Forty-three pounds of thick-cut hellboar bacon.
After all that, appetite’s undiminished;
While there are boars still left, breakfast ain’t finished.
Google more “Garrosh likes“ and the result is
Dead humans, dead gnomes, and dead Twilight cultists.
Also dead Grimtotem, Magatha’s kin;
Call me when she’s caught and torture begins.
You know I love when a plan comes together.
(It rarely does with these goons, but whatever.)
Rarer still from the minions I’ve collected:
When my authority’s actually respected.
Now, with my trainees, their loyalty’s ample;
I wish more grown-ups followed their example.
Good thing this training gig’s plenty rewarding —
Easy’s to teaching as brief is to Fordring.
DPS kids are heroes on the rise.
(Gurtash needs work, but at least, hey, he tries.)
Lethal from day one; this much, let’s agree on:
Nobody’s missing a bunch of dead peons.
Ruekie tries hard even when things go south,
Effortlessly puts her foot in her mouth.
Already haste-buffed; one day she’ll go mental
Summoning her own kafa elemental.
Korrina’s deadly when she gets attacked;
Bane to the lizards — now that’s a #SaurFact.
Snapping off Ruekie’s fork just to eat noodles
(Captured forever in Gurtash’s doodles).
Gurtash was first of them I brought on board.
Draws comics better than he draws his sword.
Kid’s got to work on becoming more skilled.
He’ll toughen up (if he doesn’t get killed…).
Giska’s kung fu punches make your face swell up;
Kulkesh is… let’s face it… underdeveloped.
They’ll have more missions, they’ll win with panache
(So long as they don’t end up like Lok’osh).
Let’s send the kids home; this part’s not PG.
’Cause you know hashtag-TheLadiesLoveMe.
Trust me, the fact that my minions are noobs
Ain’t the lone way I’m surrounded by boobs.
You’ve seen my mailbags and Twitter replies;
Tip of the iceberg, between you and I.
They flock to Orgrimmar at my behest,
Putting the groupie in epic group quest.
That’s me, inspiring a fawning persona —
Uukra and Wega, Zaela and Garona.
Rak and Aranya, Thalassian Brandi,
One thing in common: /waggle gets them randy.
One shirtless /flex and they’re looking for action;
Gathering round, irregardless of faction.
So, who to pick when I’m looking for love?
Maybe I’ll go with D) All the above.
But even while a near harem is swirling,
There’s one girl from whom I want no fangirling:
Normally I might be lewd, even sleazy,
But that Sylvanas just makes me uneasy.
Even when mannered, she always seems dicey;
Hot on the outside, sure; inside, she’s icy.
At least one fish in the sea I’d throw back;
LadiesLoveGarrosh — he don’t love ’em all back.
EPIC VERSE!
[That does it for Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge for this time around! Just a reminder, I’ll be taking a short break for the next couple of weeks due to hectic real-life goings-on, but after that, we’ll be back again with a weekly Wednesday installment, starting May 20!]
DPS (poetry) check
That’s right, it’s time for this week’s edition of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge. You all know the deal by now — in honor of National Poetry Month, I’m inviting my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS to send in their own poetic masterpieces (cough), out of which I select GLORIOUSLY LUCKY SUBMISSIONS to feature here, along with my own EPIC VERSE response.
For today’s round, I’ve got some extra special submissions for you. Specifically, a bunch of my very own trainees from the DPS saw fit to try to emulate their beloved mentor and cook up some wannabe-masterpieces of their own. This may or may not have had something to do with an offer I might possibly have made to accept a poem submission in lieu of the 300-laps-around-Orgrimmar jogging drill I just happened to assign them the other day. BUT NEVERTHELESS.
Point is, though, that means that this edition of Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge features NOT ONE, NOT TWO, but THREE featured poems. CAN YOU CONTAIN YOUR EXCITEMENT? I DON’T BELIEVE YOU CAN.
So, with no further ado, let’s see what the kids have come up with.
Our first submission comes from Mirembe, and see, this is actually pretty impressive, in the sense that Mirembe isn’t even stationed in Orgrimmar right now — she’s still up in Northrend on training maneuvers with Tov’osh — so she wasn’t even here when I issued my ultimatum made my offer to her DPS peers. But she didn’t let that stop her from cranking out a little something.
Which, you know, is more than I can say for Tov’osh.
BUT WHY DWELL ON THE NEGATIVE. After all if there’s one thing you people know about me, it’s my positive attitude and sunny outlook on life. So let’s have a look at Mirembe’s submission and see if one of my minions managed NOT TO FUCKING DISAPPOINT ME FOR ONCE.
There once was an orc from Garadar
Who was invited by Thrall to travel very far
He slaughtered the Scourge
And then went on to purge
All those not loyal to Orgrimmar!
Not bad, not bad… Although, I mean, considering she knew she was sending it in to ME, this DOES kind of smack of a little tiny vague whiff of… you know… sucking up to the guy with the grade book. Not a dealbreaker or anything, but I can’t help but have it on the brain when I cook up my response…
Now I usually don’t go in for flattery —
Blatant suck-ups get assault and battery.
But you’re right — it’s more dangerous
To be one of the traitorous:
Who’ll surely lose part of their anatomy.
EPIC VERSE!
Okay, next up is a submission from Korrina — who, by the way, just recently gave in to peer pressure from her fellow trainees and got herself set up on Twitter. Where she wasted no time in becoming a pretty damn prolific tweeter, I’ll have you know. Anyhow, you should all go follow her if you’re not already. YOUR WARCHIEF HAS SPOKEN.
So, free advertising aside, let’s see what Korrina has to show for her efforts…
Whose woods these are I do not know
They’re near a Night Elf village though
We must be quiet working here
To chop our wood and quickly go
My peons should be filled with fear
But they have not a brain cell near
I’m not sure they would even run
If Allied soldiers should appear
I booterang the slowest one
To make sure he gets his work done
The punishment he thinks is steep
But soon he’s loaded half a tonne
Our cart is loaded thirty deep
And back to Orgrimmar we creep
I bet those Night Elves sure will weep
I bet those Night Elves sure will weep
EPIC VERSE
Gotta say, that’s pretty damn good. Other than the part where she got a little too full of herself and decided her creation here was worthy of EPIC VERSE treatment. You’re gettin’ there, kid, but not quite, not yet. Still, credit where it’s due, this WAS a good job, so I went ahead and granted you, y’know, rare verse status with your text color. It WAS a good piece of work. So on top of being a promising warrior-in-training, Korrina might also have a possible side gig as a poet. Assuming she doesn’t consider it too much of a weenie undertaking to do as more than a one-off. To which, pfft. But anyway. On to my response…
Whose woods these are I know full well;
Those night elves can all go to hell.
I stomped about and yelled and swore,
For I won’t walk ’round on eggshells.
My wyvern makes a mighty roar
As up above the trees we soar;
Where once we flew on bombing runs,
But quoth the druid: Nevermore.
The night elves aim with futile guns,
But each shot Mortimer outruns.
I wonder what the hell’s their qualm;
Your guess is good as anyone’s.
These night elf woods will soon be calm,
When they are ours: just one more bomb,
Just north of where we honor Grom.
Just north of where we honor Grom.
EPIC VERSE!
Okay, so last and possibly least, maybe or maybe not, WE’LL JUST HAVE TO SEE, here’s one from Ruekie (@RuekieShaman on Twitter, by the way, for any of you jokers who aren’t already following her as you ABSOLUTELY SHOULD)…
Dark and creamy, Mr. Delicious
Your flavor makes me quite ambitious.
Your scent so wild, so strong and heady.
My body sings I am ready!
Give it to me, give it to me now.
That nectar of life, give me that POW!
I thirst for that extra potion of power!
That crazy haste buff that lasts an hour!
Espresso, mocha java, vanilla latte!
Not in a sippy cup, give me GRANDE!
That surge of great flavor, that fabulous taste.
Oh, how I adore it along with that HASTE!
PLEASE! PLEASE! TAKE ME AWAY!
TAKE ME TO EVERY STARBULLS KAFE!
Once I’ve consumed every last drop with glee,
Move over rover – I gotta go pee!
(I’m serious about this, don’t you laugh
Try taking my kafa, it will be your last gaffe.)
Uh, yeah. So… that was a thing.
Does she do this on purpose? I feel like she has to do this on purpose, just because she does it so damn much. And then I remember I’ve actually met her, and what she’s like in person, and yeah, no.
Anyway, here’s what I have to say back to her:
Now cool your jets and try to stay calm,
And wait a moment while I facepalm.
Her every good idea goes south
The moment she first opens her mouth.
We tried to warn; she never took heed.
Every time she talks, she winds up ruekied.
So listen, Rook, in your next letter,
You’ve gotta pick your words much better.
Although your poem could be splendid,
It implied much more than you intended.
I know to you kafa’s amazing,
But that’s not what it seems you’re praising:
Oh no — instead, it seems it’s me:
Subject of trainee fantasy.
And folks already hate my scruples,
Without suspicions of my pupils.
What’s more, you’re younger than my daughter;
My hate mail doesn’t need more fodder.
So stand corrected, stand your ground,
Stand up for kafa, stand out in the crowd,
But please don’t stand, for all to see,
Don’t stand, don’t stand so close to me.
EPIC VERSE!
So… yeah. I’m not sure why I went into this one thinking that Ruekie WASN’T going to… you know… do what she does. But I mean, seriously. I get enough people bitching and complaining to me about the stuff I ACTUALLY DO, without little miss foot-in-mouth giving them more ammunition over imaginary shit I DON’T do. Ugh.
Anyhow, that’s going to do it for this EXTRA GIANT PACKED edition of Garrosh’s Poetry challenge. Remember to keep those poems coming in — anything I receive by the end of the day next Monday is eligible for next week’s post, and who knows, maybe I’ll toss out a bonus edition at some point. Or maybe not. Depends on whether I get ambitious. Or lazy. Who knows.
ANYWAY, handy form below, or use the e-mail link in the upper right sidebar. You know the drill. More soon.
Mak’gora, verbal style
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
GARROSH HELLSCREAM
VS.
THRALL
BEGIN!
GARROSH:
I got the Scourge under wraps, so this round won’t be postponed.
Good thing Blackmoore named you Thrall, ’cause you’re about to be owned.
“Green Jesus,” never wrong? You were never warrior-strong –
Now I’ll shove those beads around your neck back up where they belong.
Aedelas gave you training; Taretha gave you sympathy;
I won’t say what Jaina gave you, but it’s BoP.
You might as well call yourself human, how you were shaped and apprenticed;
All you need’s some beige paint and a trip to the dentist.
Your reign as Warchief was a joke, and you are as well:
Every time I hear your name, I Go’EL-OH-EL.
You left me picking up your mess, and then I watched you leave it:
You failed to serve the Horde – now I’ll crush you beneath it.
THRALL:
Too often since I went away I’ve heard tell of your crimes,
And I don’t know what disappoints me more: you or your rhymes.
I led the orcs from enslavement to the land we inhabit;
I only made one mistake – and I’m looking at it.
You’re not worthy of your line, you’re twisted as an ampersand;
You’re rhymes are weak and I won’t cheer, but I might give you a big hand.
You’ll keep losing your supporters and the lands you used to hold;
From your mailbag to your reign, you just keep on getting trolled.
So when they finally lead you off bound with chains and rope,
Where you’re going, drop some rhymes – but watch you don’t drop the soap.
I was blind to your crimes, but now you’ve gone past the line;
Now it’s time you finally answered—
[Thrall hurls the Doomhammer at Garrosh; before it reaches him, though, Orgrim Doomhammer leaps in and catches it.]
ORGRIM:
Yeah, I think this is mine.
Step aside for a real Warchief; challenge me, you’re going to lose.
You might wear my battle armor, but you could never fill my shoes.
Blackhand left our people pinned under Gul’dan’s thumb;
I showed a race enslaved that they could overcome;
I thought that you were fated to hold fast what we created,
But the going got unstable, and the unstable abdicated.
You made a half-assed call not knowing what the pros and cons were;
You played Frankenstein, then washed your hands of your monster.
And you now, Orcish Karloff – you plagued our kind like a pox,
And locked away our people’s hopes inside a heart-shaped box.
We both tried to tear an Anduin limb from unskilled limb,
Only mine was an adult – and I actually killed him.
Your challenge was a waste of time; you should have withdrawn it,
’Cause I own you both like the city that’s got my name written on it.
[The wall behind them crumbles to reveal a makeshift Dark Portal, through which Blackhand emerges.]
BLACKHAND:
You people must be joking; now you might as well bounce,
Because you’re never trounce the one and only Warchief who counts.
The first to be crowned, rhyming fury unbound;
I built a mighty war machine – you ran it into the ground.
Well I’m back – I was the first, the best to rally orcish masses,
Now I’ll T.H. White Once-and-Future on your asses.
I’m unimpressed, Orgrim, with the rhymes you’ve busted.
Now I’ll correct my one mistake: thinking you could be trusted.
Our bond was iron, loyalty withstanding any test;
Your oath was what a noob picks through on an Outland quest.
So bring it on, Backstabber, and I’ll swat you right back;
You pose no threat; you’d better bet the pimp Hand is Black.
ORGRIM:
You want to take me on, Blackhand? You’d best hope for luck,
’Cause you only ever beat me in a timeline that sucks.
Lust for power kept you dreaming, so you were blind to Gul’dan’s scheming,
Then you followed Hellscream’s lead and sold us out to the demons.
You were Warchief in name, but power? Every last ounce’ll
Dribble down to you for show, straight from the Shadow Council.
It wasn’t till I took command that the First War was won—
BLACKHAND:
And then you led us to internment – yeah, nice work there, son.
THRALL:
We led the orcs back from the fall your madness brought on;
You may be Medivh’s king, but you were Gul’dan’s pawn.
You were a figurehead at best, with a fel employer;
It was only to your own kind that you were the Destroyer.
Oh, but since you mention sons, yours tried to demand
That he should rule, but he got his – by the Warchief’s command.
BLACKHAND:
Oh, look, the junior partner – sad you’re what would become of us;
No surprise, though; like your father, you were never really one of us.
Go play dress-up all you want; fish for praise but you won’t get it,
You just let others do the work and then swoop in to take the credit.
I earned my place as the greatest, and that glory will last—
GARROSH:
At least till Metzen gets another retcon hair up his ass…
BLACKHAND:
Yes, let’s get to you, pox boy, we’ll finish this quickly.
You’ve got rhymes like your childhood: rejected and sickly.
You couldn’t even finish this sad son of Durotan’s –
You should have Bane’d his back in half when you had the chance.
Captain Hammer here’s weak, but he still brought you ruination—
GARROSH:
That’s only ’cause I didn’t gem plot armor penetration.
Now you two old-school has-beens, watch your legacies unravel;
You’re done and gone (except for maybe FUCKING TIME TRAVEL).
My line is stuff of legends; your alias is famed –
They must have thought you’re Tom Riddle, ’cause you couldn’t be named.
I own my every call, each choice a notch in my own belt;
You couldn’t be more of a puppet if they’d made you out of felt.
I’m triumphant and a hero! I’ve slain humans, drakes, and liches!
I ride a wyvern that’s more badass than any of you bitches!
The greatest Warchief of them all, from the last to the first –
Epic mount, epic name, epic life, EPIC VERSE!
WHO WON?
WHO’S NEXT?
YOU DECIDE!
EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!
[A quick two-part programming note: First, keep those suggestions coming! While they will no longer be a regular weekly feature (because, whew, these are hard to write on a tight schedule!), I may still sprinkle them into the blog now and again, if these great suggestions keep coming in and people seem to be enjoying them.
Second — I’ve decided to push Garrosh’s next mailbag from this coming Monday to the following Monday (May 11), to allow the blog’s “main storyline” events to reach a point where the mailbag will seem less forced. After this month, we’ll be back to our normal schedule of a mailbag the first Monday of each month. Keep those letters coming!]
Monday mailbag
You know what this is, you know how this works, let’s get right to it.
I heard that you really like bacon. ME TOO! Bacon is the greatest. It’s like candy, but it’s meat. I like meat. I want to try ALL the meat! I tried crocolisk yesterday for the first time and it was really good! It tastes a bit like pork, but more gamey. What’s your favorite meat that’s not bacon? Are there any animals you would like to eat but haven’t had a chance to try yet? Yay, meat!
–Suirohtal, Archdruid of People for the Eating of Tasty Animals
Holy shit, this guy is like Bizarro Lathorius! And also, gotta say, this PETA sounds like something I could totally get behind. So you know what? YAY MEAT INDEED, MY GOOD MAN. I think I like this archdruid a hell of a lot better than the other guy. Speaking of which, if you have an urge to send a giant kodo caravan to Orgrimmar carrying a vast assortment of meats, well, that would be super nifty and keen.
Can’t say I’ve had crocolisk, but if it reminds you of pork, it can’t be half bad. Naturally, nothing beats bacon, but there is no kind of pork that can steer you wrong. Or roasted boar. That’s some damn good eating, too. Basically if it’s a meat that comes from a porcine source, we’re good. Pork is pretty much the alpha meat. (You quillboar better take care not to get on my nerves too much.)
Talbuk and clefthoof are both pretty good, too, by the way. Clefthoof, I’ll have you know, makes for damn good stew meat especially. Keep that in mind next time there’s a cold winter night and you feel like getting big pot of something going over the fire.
Dammit, I’m making myself hungry.
Anyhow. I can’t think of any animals I’d like to eat that I haven’t. I’ve done a fair bit of hunting over the years, so I’ve eaten a lot of different meats. If anything, the thing I’d really like to eat more of would be vegetables. I can’t say I’ve made much of a habit of including them in my diet, and I think it would be pretty great if HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I THOUGHT I COULD GET THAT OUT CLEAN.
Anyway, though, thanks for writing, Suirohtal, and getting the mailbag off to a good start. This bodes well for a fun time this mailbag.
Firstly, my thanks for hearing my plea. I look forward to observing the Alliance reaping what they sowed when they killed my mate.
Secondly, to answer your question, yes, I am related to Shyrka Wolfrunner. You see, she is my cousin – the daughter of my father’s brother. Our family has a tradition of keeping and breeding wolves for mounted travel and combat – not as exciting as the Saurfang warrior line, I know, but one I am no less proud of. I’m told my father maintained the last wolf kennel on Draenor before it was destroyed, working for the Thunderlord Clan while the clans were ruled by Shadowmoon and the fallen Great Shaman, Ner’zhul.
For your wyvern’s new, ahem, ‘habits’, I have a solution. Such stains are easily removed using a solution made from ground-up Fadeleaf and Sungrass. Since the ingredients are found so far apart from each other, I enclose a sample in the flask attached to this letter. With any luck, Overlord Malkorok will no longer have to worry about stains on his boots. To prevent it from happening again, your guards should walk up and down. Animals will not do their business on moving objects.
Finally, if you’re interested, Warchief, I have a wolf you may wish to take for your Kor’kron mounted forces. He is the pride of his litter, one of two pups who are stronger, tougher and more agile than any of their siblings. Most of my wolves are sold to greenhorn adventurers, carrying them across Azeroth on their quests or into the fray in a battleground, but this wolf, Grimjaw, and his younger sister are being held in reserve for special occasions. The younger one, Blackfang, is for my son, a present for when he comes of age. Grimjaw was to be an anniversary present for Detanga, to replace her last wolf who died of old age some time ago, but as you know, that is now a moot point.
I was originally worried about what would happen to my wolvess if any of them were taken to the Kor’kron stables, but before I started writing this my daughter asked me, “Daddy, when will Mummy be coming home from her ‘expitition’?” because I hadn’t the heart to tell her, and nothing has ever hurt me so much as telling her that her mother will never come home, and seeing the tears well up in her eyes, and holding her and her brother to my chest while doing my best not to cry myself.
They deserve to have their mother hold them in her arms and tell them how proud she is of them. I can’t give them that, but if my wolves can bear your warriors into battle so that no more sons and daughters will grow up without a parent, I will have served my Horde well and given Detanga’s spirit cause to rest in peace.
Yours faithfully,
–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master
OH, FUCKING HELL, dude, how many times are you going to bring the damn room down?!
I mean. Um. Yeah, uh, still sorry for the loss of your wife, Ogunaro. And, I mean, that whole story about your wolves, and your daughter, and having to… um… explain what… erm… what happened… and… And hang on, um, I think it must be hayfever season or some shit, I need to… yeah, hold up, I need blow my nose. Or something.
…
AHRRM. OKAY. Fucking weird…there must be something in the air or something. Hrrmph. Ahem. Okay. OKAY.
So.
I appreciate the offer of the wolf, Ogunaro. I’ll be honored to take Grimjaw into the Kor’kron fold. Rest assured, considering what he means to you, he’ll be well taken care of, and as a mater of fact, I’ll make sure he’s groomed for a role of some importance. Now, mind you, I’m already good on mounts – everybody who reads the blog is familiar with Mortimer, obviously, but even on the wolf end of things, I’m covered what with me already having Malak. But… I think I have a job that would suit Grimjaw just fine. Stay tuned.
I know you answered my letter in the last mailbag, but that was a really long time ago. Like, longer than the wait between Winter’s Veil and Noblegarden! Anyway, I thought you’d like another update on my training! I still do the meat shield thing, and boy do things drop super fast when my shield meets their faces! I’m actually in Outland now! Can you believe it?! I even had enough gold to buy my own wyvern from the nice lady in Orgrimmar. I think his name is George. At least, he likes it when I call him that.
Me and George have been having all kinds of fun! We even met a nice zombie man who took us through some smelly dungeons full of red orcs and those snake people so I could learn how to warrior better! He was really cool for being a zombie.
Oh! I even met some brown orcs like you! They didn’t like me at first, but their shaman said she trusted me. Then I said you were my Warchief and they liked me! They even kept me safe from those big robots that roam around!
Anyway, I think this letter’s gone on long enough. Plus George is looking for his wyvern chow.
–Mirembe
PS: I had so many teeth from shield bashing that I made you a necklace to thank you. It has to be better than those silly charm bracelets you get every year!
Hey, Mirembe. Glad the training is coming along. Grats on the wyvern – trust me, you’ll love having one. It takes a little time for you to get used to each other, but once you do, you’ve got yourself a loyal companion for life. They DO seem to have some lame-ass names, though. Don’t know what to make of that.
Anyway, make sure you check in with me before you go back to what’s-her-face to upgrade your flying license and kick George up to the fast lane. I’ll see to it that they hook you up with the trainee discount. The discount being that they charge you with an I.O.U. that they have to come to me personally to collect, in whatever amount they feel comfortable coming to ask me for face-to-face, alone in a closed room, where I have Gorehowl hanging on the wall while I kick back in a chair carved out of a giant skull. Should save you a coin or two.
And hey, sounds like you’re getting in good with the Mag’har. Sweet! If you’re rolling around in Outland helping them out, you’re probably going to wind up in Nagrand before too long. Gotta admit I miss the place…it’s been too long since I’ve been around. When you get there, make sure you look up Greatmother Geyah. She pretty much raised me after my mom died. Sweet lady, definitely get in good with her, but, word of advice? When you talk to her, when she starts asking about your life, don’t volunteer any more information than you have to. Give her too many details to sink her teeth in, and trust me, she will try to greatmother you the fuck to DEATH. Still, tell her I said hi. Also, if you happen to see Jorin Deadeye while you’re out there, tell him I said fuck you. Dude’s a dick. Always gave me a hard time, when we were kids, about Grom being the one who doomed our people. Like HIS dad was any hot shit. Fucker.
And hey, thanks for the necklace. It actually kinda looks like the one I made myself years and years ago. See, it’s a tradition in the Warsong clan to make a necklace from bones or teeth from your earliest kills, carved with ceremonial runes. The teeth from this necklace weren’t from your FIRST kills, right? I wouldn’t want to take those from you – those should be yours. Otherwise, though, awesome. I appreciate the gesture, as long as it’s not stepping on ceremonial toes. Come to think of it, Mira, which clan are you from?
Can’tcha say somethin’ nice ’bout trolls, mon?
–Zim’bobwe, Sen’jinn Village
No.
Okay, okay, fine. Ben-Lin’s been on me to try to be more positive, so maybe if I scrape up something here it’ll shut her the fuck up for ten seconds about me being fucking negative like that shit’s any of her business in the first place. For fuck’s sake.
What was I saying? Oh. Yeah. Fucking trolls.
So, okay, fine. Something nice about trolls. And I’m even going to try not to be snarky and say something like “Well at least they’re mortal so I know they’ll die eventually.” Even though that’s totally true, and a definite plus. Where was I again? Fuck, I’m losing focus a lot today. Might have had too much kafa. Anyway.
So yeah. Something nice about trolls. So okay, here we go.
Those motherfuckers can dance. Like they’ve got moves like nobody’s business. Especially some of those troll girls, because…you know what? I don’t like trolls as a general rule, but…every so often, you have to entertain exceptions.
Yeah, yeah, fine, give me looks. Check ’em out sometime. NO JURY WOULD CONVICT ME.
After your recent (and highly illuminating) live blog, I decided to look into this Ask.fm site you’d mentioned. After entertaining a handful of questions though, something strange started happening. Some anonymous person or people seemed determined to keep asking me questions that weren’t really questions, just requests for “Pap of house,” “Pap of your room,” and maybe most distressing “Pap of feet.” I have no idea what they’re asking. You seem to be more familiar with internet customs than I am Warchief – what does this “pap” mean, and why is this person so interested in it? And what does it have to do with my feet??
–Disturbed In Durotar
Oh geez.
Welcome to the world of internet jackassery, DID. If this is your first encounter with it, congratulations on logging on to the internet for the first time ever this week.
So…the “PAP” thing. Yeah. I get this, too. So apparently, it’s an acronym, only I don’t really want to call it an acronym because “acronym” sounds like something that should be at least marginally smart rather than the soul-bleeding exhibition of stupid that almost invariably goes hand-in-hand with this little gem. But I guess it’s supposed to stand for “Post A Picture.” So the people you’ve heard from apparently want to see your house, your room, and your feet, and honest to fuck I couldn’t even take a guess at which of those you should be more fucking disturbed about. Maybe your feet. But I guess that might depend on how much cool stuff you’ve got at your house that these fuckers might try to break in and steal.
You know what? No. It’s the feet thing. Because seriously, internet freak shows, seriously.
Speaking of which, kind of. Like I said, I’ve gotten these “PAP” questions a lot, too. Like, relentlessly. And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. And I know I’ve made this point on Ask.fm before, but on the off chance any of these PAP-spamming fucknoses are reading this now, I’d like to take a moment here to address them directly:
Good evening, wastes of life.
I can understand why you value efficiency. I get it. I really do. You people clearly have rich, busy lives, skulking around in your caves and musing over what it would be like if someone could invent some magical substance that would remove the stink from your assorted crevices with the mere addition of water. Maybe they could package the stuff in solid cakes small enough to hold in one hand. I’m just spitballing here.
Point is, you want to be time-efficient because you’ve got shit to do. You can’t burn up your whole afternoon search-and-pecking your way through whole words, because dammit, you’ve got business to tend to on the internet, and if you can’t cut a few corners on questions you’re voluntarily posting to people who don’t give a fuck about you, well then, that’s less time you can devote to running around posting other comments like, say:
Because then who the fuck is going to illustrate irony for people so they can understand what it is? Or maybe you need to get around to your blog reading so you can offer incisive commentary like:
Because FUCK THAT GUY, THAT’S WHY. FUCK HIM IN THE ASS WITH A PITCHFORK-MOUNTED JACKHAMMER. POINT BEING. You’ve got shit to do and you don’t have time to waste writing out whole words like “for” and “you” and “are,” and spirits fucking save us if you ever need to say “you are,” because now we’re getting into your/you’re territory and at that point holy shit ALL bets are fucking off.
So I get it. I do. You’ve got places to go (virtually) and people to meet (i.e., to yell at online with a raging bitterness despite never having met these people in reality) and you can’t have trivial things like keystrokes and complete words standing between you and your complete and utter worthlessness as a living being.
Here’s the thing.
And I can’t stress this enough.
YOU’RE NOT EVEN SAVING YOURSELF ANY FUCKING KEYSTROKES WITH THE FUCKING “PAP” THING. You can just type “pic” and ask the same damn thing, and still use the exact same number of letters. IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME, LOOK, WE’LL COUNT TOGETHER. ONE, TWO, THREE – the number of letters in “PAP.” ONE, TWO, THREE – the number of letters in “pic.” ONE, TWO, THREE – your total number of IQ points. SEE HOW IT ALL WORKS OUT? WERE YOU ABLE TO FOLLOW THAT DEMONSTRATION OR DO I NEED TO GET A FUCKING PURPLE SAN’LAYN PUPPET IN HERE TO TAKE YOU THROUGH IT AGAIN?
And hey, guess what, while you’re at it saying “pic” like a normal person who hasn’t been beaten in the head with a brick for six hours straight by everyone who’s ever lived plus six more guys, you also have the ADDED bonus of NOT reminding people of a fucking medical procedure that NO ONE HAS EVER HAD HAPPY ASSOCIATIONS WITH EVER IN THE HISTORY OF EVER.
So listen – if you have “PAP” as part of your functional vocabulary, here’s what you need to do. Go get a chisel. Now grab onto the fucker real real tight – like imagine the chisel is your dick and you just found footage online of someone being really unhappy and you’re getting ready to jerk off to that shit, because FUCK YOU – and jam that chisel right up into your brain and shove it around until you’ve scraped all memory of this “PAP” shit right the fuck out of there forever. Okay? Stop it. Just stop it. “PAP” us no more “PAPs.” ENOUGH ALREADY. ENOUGH. KNOCK IT THE FUCK OFF, AND I HOPE YOU DIE.
I’m glad we had this little talk.
More soon.
Next mailbag May 4! E-mail garrosh1337@gmail.com or submit your message below:
Monday mailbag
So if you’re reading this, it means that this pre-scheduled post I had Spazzle rig up for me has kicked in. See, I figured it’d been a while since I dipped into the ol’ mailbag, only I wasn’t sure how long I was going to wind up being tied up with the whole Blackrock Spire business, so I had Spazzle set this thing up so this mailbag post would go up automatically if I didn’t get back by a certain point. Which, if the post has gone up and you’re seeing it, totally raises the perfectly fair question WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN THERE I MEAN SERIOUSLY
ANYWAY.
On to the mail!
I have heard of your feats of battle, and wish to know, How did you get so good at fighting? do you have a secret trainer? what’s your favourite move? and lastly, is Gorehowl hard to wield?
I have heard of this daughter of yours, and would like to offer my services as a teacher if you wish. P.S i am a blood elf death knight.
Salamah’ashala noreh, warchief. (Goodbye/farewell)
–Ranacore Bloodblade
Hey, Ranacore, thanks for writing. No secret trainer, no real secret source for my combat badassery in general. Just talent, son, pure talent. A long childhood history of people in Garadar talking shit about my dad didn’t hurt, what with all the opportunities it afforded me to practice kicking ass at an early age.
Favorite move? I’d have to go with the plain ol’ time-honored axe to the face. I guess I’m just old-fashioned that way.
Yes and no on the Gorehowl question. See, it’s perfectly balanced – you’ll never find an axe that’s better crafted in terms of distributing its weight and mass to lend itself to generating force while maintaining flexibility. Somebody really did a job and a half designing it. But at the same time…man, that motherfucker is heavy as shit. Which leads to a whole lot of people stumbling over, the first time they try to pick it up.
As for training Shayari, I think I’ve got that covered. Plus, she’s a mage, so I figure most of her training would be out of your area of expertise, seeing as you’re a death knight and all. On the other hand, you’re also a blood elf, so maybe you could show her, I don’t know, some fashion tips or hairstyling techniques, since I think maybe she’s into that shit.
Many thanks for the answers Warchief. As an aside, seeing as how you cavorted with the Draenei yourself, would it be presumptuous to look for a little leniency if I hook up with one myself? As a Tauren, the horns and hooves (and hips and tail) are kind of a turn on. I mean c’mon, what’s good for the Warchief should be cool for the rest of us, right?
–Karlsohn, Thunder Bluff
Dude, you think I’m not paying for that one? We all make our iffy decisions, Karlsohn, and some of them come back to haunt you, but only the very, very special ones have birthdays.
Greetings Honorable Warchief Hellscream,
We have a small problem in Pandaria: Gnomes. Mainly the dead ones. The Yaungol just love to kill them. I will not deceive you and say that I understand why the Yaungol kill these creatures, let alone roast their bodies. Seriously, it smells like bacon around their camps these days. Many of my Omnia trainees, especially the younger ones just past their Trial of the Red Blossoms, mistake it for actual bacon. It has led to some…uncomfortable moments. I am also no lover of gnomes. They are creepy with their bouncing, unnatural perkiness, and candy colored hair (also, those pigtails? Definitely NOT made of candyfloss. Lao Chin found this out the hard way). At least the Grummles have a use with ferrying supplies to our Monastery! So I ask of you, is there some use for these roasted Gnomes? I thank you for any advice you have to offer.
–Shen Wei Pureblossom, Healer of the Shado-Pan
So…while I’ve been a long-time supporter of the idea that the only good gnome is a dead gnome…roasted gnome? Fuck if I know. Probably the only thing roasted gnomes could have going for them is that they ARE dead – emphatically dead, in fact, like way past the point where someone could come along and raise them as undead gnomes, because CREEPY AS FUCK.
So, on the down side, I don’t really have an answer for you as far as what roasted gnomes are good for. On the plus side, I think we DO have an answer as far as what yaungol are good for.
I write to you seeking honest answers regarding our ongoing war with the Alliance and when it will end (as all wars must). Some time ago, my mate Detanga marched off to war as a soldier in your army. She would return home from many a battle with a few scars and some tales to tell our two children.
Just the other day, a grim Blackrock orc shoved her notice of death into my hand.
My heart burns with the desire to track down her killers and tear them apart, but I am a breeder of wolves, not a warrior. I would not last five minutes in battle. Detanga was always the stronger of us two. She served in a unit as part of our initial invasion into this land of Pandaria, but she died while defending our port there, Domination Point, during a cowardly Alliance attack.
I beg of you Warchief, send what forces you can to the Alliance’s port, this so-called Lion’s Landing. I am not the only one on my street to lose family in the attack. The blood of the fallen must be repaid! Know that had I the power, I would take this charge myself, but I am no warrior, as I have said.
Yours faithfully,
–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master
Way to bring the room down, man. Yeesh.
I mean…um… Sorry for your loss, Ogunaro. (By the by, any relation to Shyrka Wolfrunner?) Your mate must have fallen during one of a bunch of Alliance raids on Domination Point a couple months ago. All of them were repelled, but there were heavy losses in some cases – Warlord Bloodhilt among them, in the same raid as your Detanga if I remember right. Know that she died victorious, with honor, driving off our enemies and reminding them one more time what happens when they cross our people.
You’re right, though – they have another reminder coming to them. As it happens, I have Wolf-Rider Gaja, Dark Cleric Laresa, Thauma…um…Thamautu… Them…some blood what’s name is Saresse, and a few others, working on a counterstrike. When we roll over that kiddie-building-block castle they call a fortress, I’ll see to it you have a front-row seat.
Also, unrelated, seeing as you’re a kennel master: Do you have any tips for cleaning, um, wyvern stains? Mortimer’s gotten…well, let’s say, kind of uneven about minding himself. Although it IS kind of funny when he makes Malkorok have to toss out yet another pair of boots.
I have been reading your blog in its entirety on the recommendation of a friend from Thunder Bluff (it helps with my downtime as part of the Northrend cleanup crew). I noticed you have a…violent dislike of Magatha Grimtotem. As a Tauren loyal to Thunder Bluff and a former Grimtotem as well, I would offer up my axe at a chance to help you hunt her down. I missed my chance when the crone was in chains in Thousand Needles, but I would not let you down. I had grown disillusioned with her leadership some time before her treachery against Thunder Bluff was known, and when it was…well, that was the straw that broke the kodo’s back.
–Bahunada Darkhide of the Runetotems
PS: Would you mind if she was slightly “tenderized” before being brought before your judgment?
Oh fuck yes. FUCK THE HELL YES. Have at it, Bahunada. (By the way, I don’t know if you were aware of this, but your name is a grade-A bitch to type.) Go track her down in whatever cave she’s slithered into these days, smack her around, and drag her ass in. Feel free to take as many liberties as you want when it comes to the smacking around. I want her alive, mind you, but other than outright killing her, listen to your heart. Remember, “clinging to life” still counts as alive.
Oh, and while you’re at it, if you run into that other fucker Johnny Awesome – you know, the one who fucking LET MAGATHA LOOSE IN THE FIRST PLACE when she was all chained up in Thousand Needles way back when – feel free to open up as many cans of smack-smack-stab-die on HIS ass as you want, too. You’ll note that the whole “bring ’em in alive” thing is totally optional in his case.
I took alot of what you said to heart and I’ve been doing those errands all over the place! First I went to Silverpine. It’s really smelly there. Like, worse than the Troll area in the city, but it doesn’t make me giggly like the Troll area does. And it’s all spooky there with all the walking corpses. It’s just not cool. Stonetalon was better, until I met Mr. Dontrag and Mr. Utvoch. They really are kinda stupid, aren’t they? They weren’t as bad as that Tirion guy. First he sat me down for a good two hours to just talk. I kinda tuned him out after the first ten minutes, although I wish I coulda hit him with my shield! I think that Daria lady wouldn’t have liked it, though. His stupid trainees are super weak and lazy too! I think I made one of those elfs cry after smacking them around a bit. Alot of them didn’t stand a chance, although their trainer thought I was a boy! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! He sent me on a bunch of stupid errands his trainees were too lazy or beat up to do. I showed those dumb trainees how a real orc gets things done and what does Tirion do? He starts to rage at me, then thanks me for “rooting out a traitor to the Crusade” or whatever he said. I started tuning it out when he got going again. He also smelled funny, but more like Gamon after he’s kicked out of the inn.
I found my warrior calling too! I really like smacking things with a shield and protecting my fellow orcs! Mostly the shield smacking, though.
—Mirembe, Orgrimmar
Hey, Mirembe. Nice work on the warrioring. Especially nice work on the shield bashing. Not really my thing, mind you, but it’s always good to have some tanky types around, especially considering most trainees don’t want to bother with the job when they can just run around blowing shit up, metaphorically or otherwise. I might have to look into getting you an extra goodie bag or something.
It’s good that you’re keeping busy, even if…well, I mean, it sounds like you’ve been mostly surrounding yourself with less than the best company. Not that I’m one to talk. But believe me, I know all too well about the fail that happens when you let the jackass cocktail of Dontrag/Utvoch/Tirion into your life.
I haven’t seen Tirion for a while now – yay for me, sucks for you – but I’m not surprised he’s still yammering on. And I mean “still yammering on” as in still yammering on about whatever bullshit he was saying last time I saw him, months ago, without even coming up for air. And you know, as much as I hate cutting any slack to those Argent Dawn Crusade Talk to the Silver Hand people…like… yeah, I’m sure the trainees up there ARE weak and lazy. They’re probably fucking EXHAUSTED. Wouldn’t YOU be, if you had to listen to Highlord Paragraph all day every day?
As for the Wonder Twins…shit, I don’t even know WHAT D&U would have been doing back in Stonetalon. I mean, they’ve been on detachment down in Pandaria, and they’ve just been in Orgrimmar temporarily while a bunch of us have been back for a check-in, so… I don’t know, maybe they’re up there visiting someone? Do they even have friends? Poor fuckers, if so. Or, I don’t know, maybe they got confused and went right back to their old posts in Stonetalon, because after all, “confused” is pretty much a default state for those two. t’s not like they’ve been reassigned back to Overlord Cliffwalker where they’d be stuck back up there permanently…and…um…back to being HIS headache, and out of my hair, and…
Um…
Hang on.
I need to go look for a form.
As always, keep those letters coming! Next mailbag April 6! E-mail garrosh1337@gmail.com or submit your message below:
Tweeting dryad, bleating crone
So, a quick aside.
Not to derail this whole thing that’s going on with Mokvar and Blackrock Spire, but after last time, with that little cameo we have from Little Miss Crazy-Nymph up in Hyjal, hoo boy, did the shit ever hit the fan on Twitter. It started innocently enough with a comment from reader and frequent commenter Shen Wei Pureblossom, and… um… things went downhill fast. Including appearances from a bunch of familiar faces.
And…well…here:
Heh. Hehehe HA!
I tell you, Magatha getting fucked with never, ever gets old.
Resuming our regularly scheduled…stuff…soon.
[A huge thank you to @ShadoPanShammy, @Mylune_, @Ji_Firepaw, @Wyvern_Mortimer (yes, really), and @M_Grimtotem — all of whom you should follow, by the way — both for providing the enormous entertainment that was this exchange, and for allowing me to reproduce it here. More Twitter lunacy to follow in short order, I’m sure.]
30 Days of Character Development #6: Mylune
[Each week — or some remote facsimile thereof — a post will profile one of the blog’s many supporting players. (See the first profile for more details.) Feel free to chime in with recommendations for other characters you’d like to see more about.]
Name: Mylune
Occupation: Caretaker of Hyjal, wildlife custodian
Race: Forest nymph
Class: Druid
Age: Unknown, though her behavior would suggest fairly young by nymph standards
Group affiliations: Guardians of Hyjal (member), Cenarion Circle (member)
Known relatives: Cenarius (exact relationship unclear, but all forest nymphs are descended from dryads, who are daughters of Cenarius)
Earth Online notes: Mercifully, no one has told Mylune about Earth Online. Or possibly about the internet. Probably for the best in both cases.
First appearance: “Of wyverns and pine cones”
Key posts and plot points:
- Garrosh has only encountered Mylune a few times, but those few times have been memorable ones. He first met everyone’s favorite overly energetic nymph in “Of wyverns and pine cones,” in which Mylune was a bit too excited to meet Mortimer. This came as a shock to no one — least of all Hamuul Runetotem — other than the Warchief himself.
- Garrosh had another run-in with Mylune (much to his chagrin) a few months later, in “Attack of the petting zoo.” This time around, Mylune unleashed her boundless affection on a pack of armed critters dwelling amid the northern plateaus of Mulgore. This time, however, the critters were ready to put up a fight, the distress of which eventually launched Mylune into what can only be described as a psychotic episode. For the record, Hamuul narrowly missed winning Malfurion’s office pool on when she would snap.
- It only follows, then, that when Ben-Lin Cloudstrider organized an anger management seminar in the appropriately named “Anger management,” Mylune would be one of the attendees. Given that the session consisted of putting Mylune, Garrosh, Lor’thermar Theron, and Tirion Fordring in a room together…well…the exercise proved less than productive. Unless, of course, you’re Faranell, in which case it was a terrific way to spend an afternoon.
In her own words:
What are your most prominent physical features?
Hi! How are you? I hope you’re having a super happy wonderful day, because why wouldn’t you when we have this beautiful world to share with all our adorable woodland friends!
Oh… Did you ask a question? Okay! Well, I guess I have extra big blue eyes — for looking out for all the cuddly animals! And my long pointed ears…to listen for the cuddly animals! And…oh, and my slender but surprisingly steel-trap-like arms, for hugging the cuddly animals! They’re just so sweet and cute, so how could I resist! And hug them to my bosom! Nice and close to my heart, that’s big and warm and just bursting with love for the animals! Does that count too?
Name one scar you have, and tell us where it came from. If you don’t have any, is there a reason?
I do have this one little scar on my shoulder here, but you know? It’s a funny thing! I don’t really remember where it came from. Isn’t that weird?
Describe your happiest memory.
Ohhh that would have to be the first time I went up to Nordrassil. It was before that mean demon guy climbed up there and made everyone sad for a while, and I’ll always remember walking through the passage to the peak of Mount Hyjal, and seeing all the animals running around and playing, just bunnies and squirrels and raccoons and skunks and chipmunks and OH MY LUNE they were all so adorable, and the sun was shining and the birds were singing, and like three rainbows all appeared in the sky, and I just ran and ran all around with the animals and we played and hugged and snuggled and it was all such a big happy wonderful blur but Mal says it was okay because eventually I passed out from exhaustion and finally got quiet and also because ale.
Is there one event or happening you would like to erase from your past? Why?
The incident. Only Miss Cloudy-bear said I should try not to think about the incident. So, what?
What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Color? Song? Flower?
Coffee ice cream — I really really like coffee, did you know it helps give you extra energy? Isn’t that just super?! And my favorite color is green, and my favorite song is…oh, you know that one? It always seems to be playing when you walk through the forests. You know the one? It goes like this — laaa, la la la laaaaa, la la la laah, luh la lahhh? It’s so pretty! I don’t really understand where it’s coming from, though.
Who do you trust?
Hamuul, and Malfurion, even though Hamuul can be all my cranky-hooves sometimes. And Mal always seems to be hovering around watching me like he’s looking for something, but I know it’s just because he cares. I trust all my forest nymph sisters, too, even though a lot of them don’t really hang out with me much.
Can you define a turning point in your life? Multiples are acceptable.
The incident. OH MY LUNE! Why do you keep bringing up the incident?! I’m not supposed to think about that! What? What incident? Happy thoughts! HAPPY THOUGHTS!
Is there an animal you equate to yourself?
<Mylune’s eyes go large and dewy>
I have to pick ONE? But they’re all so SQUEEEEEEE!
How do you react to temperature changes such as extreme heat and cold?
I don’t deal with cold as well as my cousins the frost nymphs, but I really, REALLY don’t like extreme heat! That’s sounds like something from those burny guys from the Firelands! You’re not with THEM, are you?!
Are you an early morning bird or a night owl?
I’m always up bright and early! Why waste the warm snuggly sunlight?
Are you a good cook? What’s your favorite recipe?
OH MY LUNE why do you keep trying to talk about the incident? What’s WRONG with you? Okay, you know what! Fine! FINE! YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT? WE’LL TALK ABOUT IT! SO YEAH, I’M GOOD MOTHERFUCKING COOK, AS IF YOU DIDN’T ALREADY FUCKING KNOW! AND YOU KNOW WHAT I COOK REALLY WELL, IT TURNS OUT? RABBIT FUCKING STEW! BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, ASSHOLE — SPOILER ALERT: THE DEATH OF THE SOUL TASTES FUCKING DELICIOUS!
Do you have any irrational fears?
Gee, I don’t know, what do you think — maybe I have a deep-seeded fear of HAVING ANOTHER FUCKING BLACKOUT AND WAKING UP AMID THE BODIES AGAIN? YOU THINK MAYBE THAT KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT?
What would your cutie mark be?
Oooh, well, maybe a heart or a rainbow, or, hey, HOW ABOUT A FUCKING SKULL AND CROSSBONES, BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK NOT IF YOU’RE GOING TO KEEP BRINGING IT UP, YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!
If you could time travel, where would you go?
WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK I WOULD GO, ASSHOLE? MAYBE BACK TO THE GODDAMN INCIDENT YOU WON’T STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT! MAYBE I’D LIKE TO TAKE THAT ONE BACK, YA THINK?!
Are you superstitious?
I know karma’s a bitch, I can tell you THAT much!
Describe your hands. Are they small, long, calloused, smooth, stubby?
COVERED WITH DARK RED STAINS OF LOST INNOCENCE THAT WILL NEVER, EVER COME OUT. I WASH THEM, AND WASH THEM, AND THEY NEVER COME OUT.
How do you smell? Do you wear perfume or cologne?
Um… <deep breath> Smell? Oh, like smelling salts? Um…yes, those might be handy. They’re usually pretty helpful.
Is…is Hamuul around anywhere? I think I need to talk to him. I don’t know if the herbs Miss Cloudy-bear gave me are working…
Previous Profiles:
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[A few quick OOC notes looking ahead: I have a big stack of material on the way (hopefully) over the next week-plus, then, the weekend after next, remember that we have our next Meta Raid. Clear your (raid) calendars for Saturday, May 10, at 8:00 PM EDT!
That Saturday (May 10) will also mark the beginning of a short break I’ll be taking from posting — I’m going to take the following week off to tend to RL commitments and do some advance prepping for the next stretch of posts. To send you off with a bang, though, and to add an extra perk to the Meta Raid, I’m going to have one last post going up that night, right as we’re gathering for our night of SoO hijinks. (Place your bets now on whether I’m going to cook up something to leave you hanging for a bit…)]
Paternity (part 2)
So, picking up right where we left off last time…
* In Garrosh’s most recent mailbag, he discussed the lank distemper, a disease that ravaged the Kurenai of Nagrand at roughly the same time the orcs were afflicted with the red pox.
Well, I guess that’s what I get for giving that job to a 15-year-old, right? Oh well. Moving on with the record from Taktani. (Let’s keep our fingers crossed on this one…)
(Yay, Mr. Warchief is letting me be his scribe again! I better do a good job because I guess Mr. Warchief was checking on how Mr. Gurtash was doing and he wasn’t too happy. Everyone else seems a little upset, too. I guess being a scribe is super important work! Mr. Gurtash looked really embarrassed when he left. I hope he doesn’t feel too bad because I think he draws good. He even draws me! Yay! Oh wait I think they’re talking about me!)
SHAYARI – Okay, so that was weird.
FARANELL – You get used to it after a while.
SHAYARI – So, who’s this one now?
GARROSH – Really, the less you ask about her, the better.
MALKOROK – More importantly, goat, we’ll be the ones asking the questions.
TAKTANI – Hi! I’m Taktani!
LIADRIN – Shayari, this is another of Garrosh’s assistants—
TAKTANI – But you can call me Tak!
SHAYARI – Oh, so she’s filling in for the pipsqueak now?
TAKTANI – Or Tak-Tak!
GARROSH – How many times do I have to tell you, THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!
SHAYARI – Well, at least she seems a little cheerier than Chuckles over there.
(That made Mr. Malkorok really mad. He seems to be pretty grumpy. He spends a lot of time with Mr. Warchief so I guess he must help him a lot, but I wish he wouldn’t yell so much.)
MALKOROK – Warchief, one swing! That’s all I ask! One swing is all I’ll need to silence this…this creature permanently.
(I don’t think I like him very much. It makes me sad. =( )
GARROSH – Malk, last time, cool it.
MALKOROK – Count yourself lucky the Warchief is so merciful, goat!
SHAYARI – You mad, bro?
MALKOROK – I— you— how dare— sir— UNGH! (He paced around a few seconds, shaking his fists, grinding his teeth, and looking at Mr. Warchief now and then) I… I think I need to walk a bit. If you’ll excuse me, sir…
(Mr. Malkorok stormed off and started stomping back and forth near the bank. It sounded like he was grumbling to himself. I’m not sure, but I think he might have punched a couple people, too. That’s mean! =( )
SPAZZLE – Okay, so whether you’re really Garrosh’s daughter or not, I already like you.
(OMG Mr. Warchief is a daddy?!? YAY!!! That’s so exciting!!)
GARROSH – So hang on. Even assuming this is all true – which we ARE going to check — how did you wind up HERE?
SHAYARI – I was living in Dalaran studying to be a mage when…well, when Jaina went all schizo.
GARROSH – Gotta say, I knew it was only a matter of time before she went off the deep end.
SHAYARI – Oh my Light, I know! She thinks she’s such a big deal, rolling into town and taking over, and being all Emo Queen of Pain, and… Oh, and Kalecgos! Have you heard about her and Kalecgos? You should see how she leads that poor dragon around by the nose!
GARROSH – Heh, yeah. I’ve kinda gotten that sense from those two…
SHAYARI – No, no, I mean literally! He has a nose ring in his dragon form, and she’s got this leash, and— and— oh spirits it’s so sad.
GARROSH – Hah! Hahaha…that’s…that’s kind of awesome.
SHAYARI – Awesomely sad.
(I like when Mr. Warchief gets happy like this. He doesn’t yell as much! Not like Mr. Malkorok.)
GARROSH – So hang on, if you’ve been staying with the Sunreavers all this time, how come this is the first I’m hearing about it?
LIADRIN – She wasn’t with the Sunreavers, sir. At least not until the purge was well underway.
SHAYARI – I stayed mostly over on the Silver Covenant part of Dalaran. People knew I was half orcish…most of the time I would pass as full draenei, but the other draenei could see it. It wasn’t as big a deal when I was back in Nagrand, but… (shrugs) Anyway. After Jaina had her little hissy fit, anyone with any Horde ties became pretty unwelcome in Dalaran. My being half orc was close enough for some of them, I guess.
GARROSH – So, wait, if people knew you were half orc, does that mean they knew—
SHAYARI – I never talked to people about who my father was. My mom told me, and a few people back in Telaar knew, but…
LIADRIN – I would imagine it was for the best that the Kirin Tor didn’t know of her full parentage.
GARROSH – Yeah, I figure that would have made her a lot less popular a lot sooner.
SHAYARI – Oh my Light, you should hear the things they say about you there! The things they talk about you doing! I figured all those stories had to be some kind of Alliance propaganda to make you look bad!
(Everyone just kind of looked at each other for a minute. I don’t really understand why. Maybe they were trying to figure out why people would want to say mean things about Mr. Warchief? That’s mean, especially since he’s a daddy now!
Mr. Warchief looked around at everyone being all quiet.)
GARROSH – WELL DON’T EVERYONE AGREE WITH HER AT ONCE!
LIADRIN – Clearly propaganda, yes, sir.
SPAZZLE – Don’t know where people come up with this stuff, chief.
FARANELL – Unless, you know, they exist in this universe and have eyes. But sure, whatever does it for you.
(Mr. Malkorok came back over to us. He didn’t seem so mad now, but it’s hard to tell since he’s always kind of grumpy.)
MALKOROK – Apologies for my…outburst, Warchief.
GARROSH – Yeah, it’s fine, Malk. So anyway, you said the doc has some way of checking out this story?
LIADRIN – Yes, sir. Obviously the doctor himself can comment with greater authority on the details.
(While they were talking, Mr. Warchief’s wyvern Mr. Mortimer came wandering over to us. He passed by Mr. Malkorok first, and I guess he maybe thought Mr. Malkorok was a tree? Because he kind of…well…lifted his leg…on his leg.)
MALKOROK – UGHH this damned flea-bitten— I— GAHH I’ll be back…
(Mr. Malkorok stomped off again. Mr. Mortimer walked up to Miss Shayari and nuzzled against her leg. Aww!)
SHAYARI – Aww, (That’s what I said!) who’s this? (petting the wyvern)
GARROSH – That’s Mortimer.
SHAYARI – (still petting) You named him Mortimer?
GARROSH – Actually, no.
SPAZZLE – It came from that D.E.H.T.A. guy, didn’t it?
GARROSH – Yeah.
SHAYARI – Oh, those hippies? (petting more) Well, it’s okay, Mortimer, you’re a handsome boy even if the crazy hippies did give you a silly name.
LIADRIN – Shay, perhaps you could take the wyvern for a walk while we discuss a few things.
SHAYARI – Sure. Come on, Mortimer!
(Miss Shayari and Mr. Morty started walking around the Valley of Strength. The rest of us watched her walk away.)
TAKTANI – I like her! She seems nice!
SPAZZLE – Not gonna lie. She had me at “You mad, bro?”
LIADRIN – Warchief? Any thoughts?
GARROSH – I don’t know. But her story from Nagrand…well, she’s got her details straight. At least the names and dates.
(Mr. Warchief looked across the valley for a minute to watch Miss Shayari and Mr. Mortimer walking by the main gate.)
GARROSH – Mortimer seems to like her.
SPAZZLE – Yeah, he took to her right away.
GARROSH – He is a pretty good judge of character.
FARANELL – This would be the wyvern that likes you, correct?
GARROSH – Your point being, Easy-Break?
FARANELL – Just citing further evidence to your point, obviously.
LIADRIN – Loathe though I am to agree with the overlord—
SPAZZLE – Isn’t it funny how you’ve known him for like five minutes, and you already hate to admit he might have a point?
LIADRIN – …he does raise a valid concern. The details of Shayari’s past all build on information that could have been acquired, albeit with some measure of difficulty.
GARROSH – Yeah. They would have to do some digging, but they could have pieced it together.
LIADRIN – The fact that she comes from Dalaran is cause for us to be all the more wary.
(Mr. Warchief looked across at Miss Shayari, who was still walking with Mr. Mortimer around the Valley of Strength. In front of the Broken Tusk, she started talking with one of the orcs, Mr. Thathung.)
GARROSH – What do you really think?
LIADRIN – I think that if she is who she says she is, she lives in a better world than we do.
GARROSH – …In Common, please?
LIADRIN – (sighing but smiling) I only mean that if she is your daughter, sir, she’s grown up hearing stories from the Alliance about the orcs, and about you in particular, and yet she’s come here fully expecting to be embraced by her father and given a home. As she said herself, she’s been told countless reasons to consider you a villain – and rejected all of them as lies. If that really is her, I may even envy her.
GARROSH – So you believe her.
LIADRIN – I would still counsel prudence. But I prefer to hope for the best in people.
GARROSH – Sounds like you live in a “better world” yourself.
LIADRIN – No, I don’t. That’s why I hate to give up on the possibility of an unbroken soul. I know this world well enough to understand how rare they are.
(Over by the Broken Tusk, Shayari had been continuing to talk with Mr. Thathung all this time – only she looked like she was getting pretty upset with Mr. Thathung for some reason. Now she finally hit him! Um…a whole bunch of times! Over and over and over, really angry-like! Oh no!)
SHAYARI – (in the distance, but still clearly audible) Hey, I said to WATCH THE HANDS, Grabby McWanderpaws! (flinging Mr. Thathung against the auction house wall and continuing to beat him senseless) Yeah! See how you like people grabbing YOU! NEXT TIME I’LL TAKE YOUR FUCKING HAND CLEAN OFF AND FUCKING FEED IT TO YOU – IN REVERSE!
(Mr. Warchief, Ms. Liadrin, Mr. Goblin, and Dr. Zombie looked back and forth at each other.)
SPAZZLE – Huh.
GARROSH – Well then.
FARANELL – So, yeah, I can still do the tests if you want, but honestly, if you ask me, it’s just going to be a waste of perfectly good ichor.
So…yeah. I still have a million and one things to deal with here in Orgrimmar before I head back to Pandaria, but…well, now I guess that’s going to be a million and two.
Stay tuned.
Monday mailbag
Okay, people, it’s been WAY too long since I’ve dipped into the ol’ mailbag, and I have a HUGE backlog of letters, so let’s get right to it, shall we?
The Feast of Winter Veil is approaching, and it made me think. What do you hope to get from Greatfather Winter this year? Do you have any special family traditions? I look forward to seeing Orgrimmar all decorated for the festivities.
Happy Holidays!
–Lorewalker Shara
PS you may want to avoid using tinsel to decorate around Mortimer, unless you like festive poop! Might be a good idea to keep Taktani away from it too, thinking about it.
Hey, Shara, thanks for writing. Hopefully Orgrimmar is looking all Winter Veily these days. I’ll be back for a check-in soon, but I’m probably only going to make it back to town JUST in time to catch the end of the festivities. As for my wish list… I remember addressing this point a couple years ago, and most of the stuff on that list still stands – especially Varian and Magatha’s heads on pikes – but there are a few more things I can think of that I might add to the list for this year.
- An actual explanation that makes sense for what the hell was going on with Mokvar while I was away.
- A wireless network here in Pandaria that’s actually reliable, so I can log onto Earth Online without it being a fucking comedy show.
- An on-site goblin tech guy who can maintain that network without the whole thing going kablooey and spitting out two burnt pieces of toast every time there’s a breeze, because let me tell you, Grizzle Gearslip ain’t happening.
Come to think of it, so far all of these could pretty much be covered if I could get a bunch more Spazzles. Because really, as much as I clown on the guy, he actually knows what he’s doing and gets shit done, and unlike half these other jokers, I don’t have to worry about him running around behind my back doing spirits-know-what. So, other additions to the list:
- A scribe that doesn’t have traitorous tendencies, a busted-up writing hand, or the disposition of a six-year-old on a sugar high from eating all the Hallow’s End candy EVER.
- The secret to controlling the sha.
- A First War commemorative chess set. This is the normal-sized, less creepy version of the chess set Medivh had over in Karazhan. It’s been rumored to be in the works for years, and I’ve finally started to see them showing up on ebAH. Yes, I play chess. Don’t act all surprised, for fuck’s sake.
- Varian’s head on a pike. Did I mention this one?
As far as having family traditions for Winter Veil…not really. I mean, keep in mind, Winter Veil is a pretty recent thing for us Mag’har. We didn’t have Winter Veil back in Nagrand, so we only started picking it up at all after Thrall came out to Garadar a few years ago. Greatmother Geyah really has taken a liking to it, but that’s about it. Plus, not to get maudlin and shit, but it’s kind of hard to have family traditions when you don’t really have a family. I mean, I never knew my dad, and my mom died when I was young. I’m an only child. As far as I know. Assuming Grom wasn’t a bigger pimp than anybody’s given him credit for. Anyhow, point being, Greatmother is pretty much the only family I’ve got nowadays, and even SHE’s not a blood relation – she’s just the one that raised me after Lakkara died. So, yeah. AREN’T YOU HAPPY YOU BROUGHT THAT UP? BET YOU FEEL PROUD.
I am in desperate need of your assistance. I approached Regent Lord Lor’themar with my issue but he said that it was beyond his scope and directed me to contact you.
I recently inherited a house and it is in terrible need of redecoration. You have done a great deal of renovation recently and I was wondering if you could give me some tips to make my house look amazing. Attached is a picture of the house.
Thanks,
–Tegwin
Grats on the new house, Tegwin. Not so grats on the place looking like such a shithole. Because, yeah, that place needs some work. I mean, seriously…the wispy, billowy day-glow curtains? A bearskin rug with the bear head still attached? Strewn out there like you’re getting ready to do a photo shoot you already know you’re going to regret in five years? And… Is…is that a hookah? Just sitting there, right out in the open, in the living room? What are you, one semester removed from college and stuck with a slacker troll roommate who keeps swearing he’ll have his half of the rent this month, and this time he means it, mon, only you know perfectly well that’s not happening because felweed’s a hell of a drug?
So, okay, a few things. You have to lose the pastels, first of all. I know that probably goes against every last one of your blood elf sensibilities, but trust me on this. You want strong, commanding colors – the kind that will make people think “Holy fuck, some serious shit goes on in this place” when they walk in. Lots of reds and grays. Err on the side of darker. Go too dark with the red and you get a bloody crimson, which is still pretty badass. Go too light and you get pink. See where I’m going with this?
Mount some weapons on the walls. If you haven’t cleaned them lately and they’ve got some bloodstains, all the better. It adds to the color scheme I’m talking about, plus it conveys a message of “This person is not to be fucked with.” Spikes. You can never have too many spikes. Or skulls. Get some skulls in there. If you can carve up the body of one of your enemies and, say, make their skull into a chair for yourself, awesome. Or maybe turn their bones into an end table. A hat rack will do in a pinch. If you haven’t killed any notable enemies lately, but you’ve got an infamous foe that you really only know by reputation but somebody in your family killed, and you have THEIR remains somewhere handy, that’s just as good, because that fucker was brought down by your bloodline (AGAIN NOTICE THE BLOOD MOTIF) and you totally deserve to share credit for the accomplishment.
This is all for your living room, of course, and I know my tastes can be a little hardcore. I figured you might want to take it down a notch or two for your bedroom, so I went to Garona to get a woman’s opinion. Didn’t get very far, though. I told her I had a question about the bedroom and tried to ask her if she matches her rugs and curtains, or words to that effect, but she just got all pissy for some reason. So, not much help there. I seriously don’t know what’s up with her sometimes.
Speaking of which…
I’m writing this letter to you in secret and I hope it gets to you and I’m not killed in the process. *looks around*
It’s about Garona Halforcen. Sir, she scares the everliving shi—uh—crap out of me. *looks around again*
I happened upon some history stuff about her and now I’m all confused. She was there when the first invasion from the Dark Portal, then she had a kid with an old man, and she is half-orc, half-dradne dranin demon *looks up spelling* DRAENAI. (She looks like an orc. Smells like one too. I don’t see it.)
Now I’m all confused and sitting in a dark tunnel with a lot of thinking time had me thinking about her again.
What I want to know…*looks around*
How old is she? She’s got to be like….ANCIENT. *hides paper, looks around*
She doesn’t make sense and I don’t want to ask her. She’s scary.
–Ruekie, Shaman In Training
PS: There’s a lot of talk lately with the orc kids about the Red Pox, and if there is something scarier than Garona it’s that. I heard you had it once. Did it hurt? Can you get it again? Can we get it? Can an outbreak happen again? Too many questions and we are getting freaked out. Like FREAKED out. Really.
Okay, first of all… Um, Ruekie, you realize we were JUST in those caves all alone and out of earshot of Garona, right? Not sure why you didn’t just ask your questions THEN, but whatever. Kids.
First, the Red Pox? No, seriously, you don’t want to get into the Red Pox, that was just a bad scene all around. I don’t know why you kids would be talking about it now, but really, just let that shit die. Nobody needs to be digging up THOSE memories for anybody.
Okay, now that that’s settled, on to your main point. Yeah, I’ll grant you the scary thing with Garona. Scariest bitch I know who hasn’t come back from the dead. Although it’s probably a sad statement about my life that the list of people I know who HAVE come back from dead is a lot longer than you would figure. Because – I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before – NOBODY STAYS FUCKING DEAD ANYMORE.
Anyway, here’s the deal with Garona. Yeah, she’s half orc, half draenei. Back in the day, Gul’dan bred an orc and a draenei to create a personal assassin – enter Garona. Yeah, she looks mostly orcish, but I guess these racial mixes are kind of a crap shoot as far as which race’s physical traits you get.
Anyhow, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure exactly when Gul’dan actually orchestrated her birth. I know it was definitely before the Dark Portal opened, and that was about 30 years ago, but before that, there was a window of about 20 years when Gul’dan was up to some Really Bad Shit, so the breeding experiment could have happened anywhere in there. Let’s shave off the first couple years to give Gul’dan time to come up with this idea and for Garona to be brought to term. That would mean that Garona would have to be anywhere from, say, 32 (She’s not. Seriously. I’m 35. There’s no damn way she’s younger than me.) to around 48 or so. Anywhere in between, your guess is as good as mine.
Hang on, though – this gets more complicated when you add the fact that Gul’dan had Garona aged magically so that she could get right to work, no childhood needed. Swell guy, huh? Anyway, the age of adulthood among orcs varies a little from clan to clan, usually somewhere from 13 to 15. (Yeah, I know, kid, can you believe it? Technically you’re an adult. Hard to imagine you’re a grown-up, huh? Well, let me clue you in on a little secret: That thought won’t stop seeming weird for another 20 years.) So that would mean, however old Garona is according to the calendar, she really has the body of a woman 13-some-odd years older. So now we’re looking at a physical age putting her somewhere between 45 and, like, 60-something. Which is kind of a big deal when you consider that 70 is about as old as you could reasonably hope to live as an orc, even if you do a perfect job taking care of yourself.
Oh, but hang on, we’re not done yet. It’s about to get more complicated. (Don’t look at me – I didn’t make this shit up.) Because, see, since Garona has that draenei half, her aging is even more fucked up. Draenei live for…like…forever. I mean seriously, I think the average draenei lifespan is something like “infinity minus twelve.” So you mix THOSE genes in with our good, wholesome “70 if you’re super lucky” orcish genes, and…well… You’ve got a woman who’s technically, like, 40, only with the body of a 53-year-old, only not really because 53 doesn’t mean anywhere near the same thing to the draenei part of her, so…um… Who the fuck knows?
She’s old, okay? Only she’s kind of not. Only she is. Whatever – you go figure it out. Meanwhile I’m going to go check around the room and make sure there aren’t any whooshing sounds coming from the corners.
The following is written in elegant, but slightly shaky, cursive script on pale peach-colored parchment paper
My dear little Roshy,
How are you doing? I have missed you. It’s beautiful here in Nagrand – we’re having the most glorious late-fall weather. I hope all is well in Orgrimmar.
Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend? Sounds serious too… She has been sending me letters telling me about how deeply in love you both are, and has included many pictures of you with little hearts and flowers drawn on them. She says you’re getting married in the spring? Why didn’t you mention it? You would think you’d keep your own family informed, dear. We’ll have to have a little chat the next time you visit. You are coming home for Winter Veil, are you not?
Also, you should take some pictures of the two of you together. And perhaps find a new photo studio. These look like they were printed on magazine paper instead of proper photo paper. I can’t properly frame them for display, especially not with the lipstick kisses smeared all over them.
All my love,
–Greatmother Geyah.
Hold on, hold on, what… how the… it… GODDAMMIT, SOMEBODY IS FALSIFYING RECORDS OF THEIR WARCHIEF, and…and… Oh fucking hell, now I’m going to have to go out there and explain Photoshop to her. It was bad enough when I had the bright idea to try to show her the internet. Nothing in my e-mail for two months but forwarded pictures of wyverns asking for cheeseburgers. And WHO is this woman who’s…ugh. You know what? I don’t even think I want to know. Even though I can probably think of a couple likely suspects.
Now I’m just imagining somewhere in Orgrimmar there’s a dim, candle-lit room with walls covered by pictures of me, and…no, no, don’t even go any further with that, Garrosh. That way madless lies.
And now on top of everything, I have to squeeze in a trip to Nagrand before Winter Veil totally runs out on me, or I’m never going to hear the end of it. Ugh. Maybe I’ll bring Gurtash, and see if I can maybe distract her a little with the cute kid factor. Or Ruekie? I bet she’d like Ruekie. Plus Rook might want someplace to hide anyway, what with her probably having Garona out for her head as soon as this post goes live.
Very good to hear you have escaped the Saurok caves unharmed. The Horde would be in a very dire position if we were to lose our leader.
I do have one question. Have you ever thought of asking a mage if they could manage to conjure lemon squares? I have no complaints, but the same old sticky buns are a bit tiring after some time (not to mention they turn stale and hard as a rock after some time sitting in a bag). Perhaps you should collaborate with my wife? I am sure she would be very good to collaborate with, or maybe another mage closer to your location.
Regards,
–Shen-Wei Pureblossom
Thanks for writing, Shen-Wei. You know, I HAVE thought of this lemon squares angle before, but here’s the thing. First off, there was a point around this time last year that I really thought Gija down in the Cleft of Shadow was on to something, but the problem is, lemon squares don’t really lend themselves to conjuring, apparently. I mean, you can abracadabra up some pastries that are sorta, KINDA in the same ballpark as lemon squares, but you can tell they’re not the real thing. It’s like the drop-off from real leather to that fake shit that the damn DEHTA hippies try to pass off and think they’re fooling anybody. And once you’re used to eating the real thing, I mean, come on. It would be like going from having me as Warchief to, I don’t even know, a fucking TROLL or something.
Second of all, having spent my whole life eating those lemon squares, let me tell you, we don’t need mages recreating Greatmother’s recipe, because IT’S ALREADY MAGICAL. (See? See how I’m already working on smoothing things over with her? For real, I’m so fucking diplomatic you could just shit a brick.)
Also, even setting all that aside… Nothing personal, but I don’t take anybody up on any suggestions that include the phrase “perhaps you should collaborate with my wife” ever since the Incident That Shall Not Be Discussed over at Tharl Stonebleeder’s house. Now stop making me think about things that cannot be unthought. MOVING ON.
Rumors are flying that there is a red pox outbreak. Is this anything like the scourge?
–Kelytas, Blood Elf Paladin, Borean Tundra
Wait, again with the Red Pox? No! We’re not going to talk about the Red Pox. Why the fuck is everybody so curious about the Red Pox all of a sudden?
I really enjoyed that Photo-Op you had with King Varian a while ago. I couldn’t help but notice that King Varian had a wonderful tousled-Anime-pigtail thing going on that was at the same time sexy but tough, and you…well, you just look cranky.
I checked in with the Couturier Barbershop in downtown Orgrimmar and was quite frankly shocked at the dismal array of hairstyles available. An up-swept Mohawk with a scarf? Are you kidding me?
I know you might have a couple of things on your plate right now but seriously, you really need to look into this before the entire Horde start looking like extras from Naxxramas.
Maybe you could contact King Varian, find out who does his hair and we could have a Stylist Exchange with one of our Barbers so they could learn some new hair techniques and bring back the Glory of the Horde.
I also noticed that our Tailors are in desperate need of new patterns. Malevolent-style silk pantaloons? Really? That is so last-season…
–A Concerned Fashionista Blood Elf
Lor’themar, is that you?
Yeah, let me get right on that. I’ll send a special diplomatic courier right over to Stormwind with a note that says, “Who does your hair??” Yeah, that would go over great, I’m sure.
Hmm. Actually, come to think of it, a message like that would probably seem SO weird to Varian that it might fuck with his head a little. Like, I can totally imagine him reading that and thinking, “Garrosh wouldn’t give a shit about my hair…WHAT IS HE UP TO?” And then he gets all paranoid and shit. And meanwhile I’m just sitting back and not doing anything, and the longer this goes on the more paranoid he gets – ESPECIALLY when it’s time for him to go to the barber, because, hey, THIS IS WHAT GARROSH WAS ASKING ABOUT. And maybe he gets so messed up and suspicious that he stops going to the barber altogether, and his hair grows and grows, and finally he’s just got this total mess of a rat’s nest on his head, until maybe he eventually can’t stand it anymore and shaves it all off and ends up bald. Same as me.
There you have it, ACFBE. Problem solved. Garrosh comes out ahead of the curve yet again. Boom.
I’m studying Orcish History at school and need to write an essay. I thought I’d write about the Red Pox and it’s impact, and I thought it would be neat if I could quote you on the subject, if you don’t mind.
I know it was a terrible illness, but there aren’t any first-hand records that I’ve been able to find. What was it like to live with the Red Pox? Do you remember much from those years? Did you notice any major differences between Orcish society as a whole and the way Orcs lived in Garadar? Pretty much anything you can remember would be great.
Thanks!
–Anonymous Scholar, Orgrimmar
Okay, so at least NOW I have some idea of why everybody’s got the Red Pox on the brain this week. So okay, fine, just this once I’ll talk about it, seeing as I’m probably one of the only Red Pox survivors a lot of these kids will have the chance to meet.
It sucked.
What, you wanted more? FINE.
I’m not going to waste time going over the symptoms, because there must already be records of that, and I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants to spend our lunch break reviewing my childhood vomiting habits. But yeah, I had it as a kid, and even setting aside the physical suffering of it all, I can’t stress enough how much of an effect it had on the culture of Garadar. I mean, you asked if there were any major differences between Garadar society and orcish society as a whole? Fuck, what WASN’T different? The Red Pox hung over our whole culture. It touched everything. We had whole generations who were born and died – prematurely, granted – under the bane of that thing. That was the worst part of it, really – the sense of resignation it left us with. It was like, for a lot of us, there was this sense that the Red Pox came for our grandparents, and then it came for our parents, and now it’s going to come for us.
Over the years, our shaman kept working to find a cure, and every so often there would be a glimmer of hope that maybe they had something. But then there would always be some disaster that would undo it. After a while that became part of the gloom and doom of it – the shaman would come up with a new possibility, and you never quite stopped hoping, but deep down you were thinking, “Okay, let’s see what fucks it up THIS time.” Even when they finally did find a cure, and the suffering could finally end, a lot of us couldn’t even quite believe it was really happening.
Adding to all this, by the way, was the fact that over in Telaar, the draenei had their own parallel illness going on for a while. It was called the lank distemper – or the “Lanks,” as a lot of folks ended up calling it. Basically an infection that caused severe dehydration and loss of appetite, so the afflicted would wither down to these scrawny shadows of their former selves. Sometimes the two diseases would flare up as if they had a contest going to see which one could kill more victims. Which made for some miserable times for everybody involved. Believe me, for anyone who was living through it, you do NOT want to get them started on the whole Lanks / Red Pox rivalry.
Is that enough? Are you happy yet? Or do I need to relive the time the conjured healing sphere rolled between Bullrok’s legs and into the lake, too?
Winter Veil is here! Time for a great orc cheer! Lok’tar!
I am so looking forward to making cookies and milk for Greatfather Winter this year with my new cooking skills I learned from Pilgrim’s Bounty holiday. I may even add some lemon squares to add some extra favor. I’m really hoping this year he’ll give me a ferocious armored bloodwing with exotic leather saddle for riding. That would be so cool! (Sigh, I’ll probably end up with another copper racer though.)
What are you hoping for Winter Veil this year, Mr. Garrosh sir?
Varian on a spire tree?
Blood and thunder!
–Ruekie, Shaman-Still-in-Training
PS: Greatfather Winter looks awful familiar, but I can’t quite figure it out. Kinda like Mr. Saurfang, but that would be impossible…I think. (Nothing is impossible with Mr. Saurfang.)
PPS: Winter Veil holiday is a great time for eating. Try no to eat too many lemon squares, though, sir. It doesn’t take much to make your muscles look like marshmallows. D:
Bye!
Wait, Ruekie AGAIN? When the hell is she writing all these letters? Fuck, maybe I should hire HER as a scribe, if this is how fast she can crank out pages. Anyway.
So also, before we get into anything else…hang on, you want a BLOODWING for Winter Veil? A frigging BAT? All of a sudden, a WYVERN isn’t good enough for little miss tornado-pants? You’ve seen Mortimer in action, up close and personal, and you’ve decided, “Nah, let’s give the universe a sporting chance – keep the wings, take away all the parts that really make the wyvern badass, and replace them with a giant blind rat”? Are you KIDDING me?
I already answered the part about what I want for Winter Veil a few letters up, so no need to get into that again. And I’m not going to dignify the lemon squares thing with a response. But I have to comment on that thing you said about Greatfather Winter. You know, one thing that people always say about Greatfather Winter is that there’s no way the guy could possibly fly all around the world and deliver presents to everyone in just one night. Well, I think you might have found the one gaping hole in that theory. So, next time you find yourself in an argument with some skeptic who doesn’t want to believe in Greatfather Winter, just unload this one on them:
“I’m telling you, there isn’t enough time for Greatfather Winter to do all that! It isn’t physically possible!”
“What if Greatfather Winter is really Saurfang?”
“Oh… Um… Well then.”
I hear you had de red pox, mon. On dat game Earth Online dey has a disees call chicken pox. Es dat de same? (What do chickens haf to do wit dat?)
Dey say in dat game, once you hav it, you cannot get et again. Yah, mon, you are now invisible to dat disees, like de lich king’s horse. Dat is good news!
Cheers, mon!
–Bobbette, Out der somewhere
…
Okay.
So.
I am beginning to get the very distinct impression that I may be getting trolled.
What’s dis I be hearin’ about da Red Pox breakin’ out again? It be all anybody be talkin’ ’bout dese days! If you get it, does dat mean ya turns red? I remember seein’ some red orcs back in Hellfire Peninsula, mon, was dey havin’ da Red Pox? Dey go from green ta red? Don’t get me wrong, mon, I don’t want nobody gettin’ sick, but if dere be anudda outbreak, look on da bright side – all dat red an’ green togetha be lookin’ nice an’ festive for Winter Veil!
–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery
I hate you. I really, truly hate you.
Excuse me, Warchief, I write to you from Dustwallow marsh, I came here to see if I could find test subjects for a new flamethrower, and found something much more interesting, there is this mysterious woman on the road to the ruined theramore (hah!) and she seems to be able to send me back in time to look at theramore and the swamp before theramore was destroyed, I went to sleep at mudsprocket and woke up in present day. She seems upset that I was killing humans as soon as I was there, and refuses to send me again.
–Ritaba, Mudsprocket
Wait, wait, hang on. Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that there’s someone hanging around Dustwallow Marsh sending people back in time to Theramore before we blew it up? As in, making it possible to totally sidestep our whole victory and interact with the place like it was before? That… fucking hell, THAT DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT OF US BLOWING IT UP IF YOU CAN FUCKING DO THAT!
You know, this has the Bronze Dragonflight written all over it — or at least it WOULD, if it weren’t for the fact that this is PRECISELY THE SAME KIND OF SHIT they they’ve been recruiting people to PREVENT for years now, and by the way didn’t I just march through like 50 miles of steaming shit over their whole “integrity of the past” deal last year?! But hey, apparently it’s NO BIG DEAL when you’re talking about Theramore, right? SURE! WHY NOT? Hey, how about I zip on back to the past and start fucking with shit too, because I GUESS THAT’S ON THE MENU NOW, RIGHT?
Fucking dragons. FUCKING TIME TRAVEL!
UGH!
I have been reading the history of Pandaria, and discovered something no one has bothered to take note of, seven burdens of Shaohao, the story of how the last emperor of Pandaria defeated the six sha and locked them away in a poor fashion (He couldn’t have kept them from causing havok any time someone gets cranky?), and there are older writings indicating a beast with seven heads, perhaps there is a seventh sha never recorded, it could be the key to controlling them.
–Yinsun, Vale of Eternal Blossoms
Now see, THIS is an example of some research that might actually be useful. You might be on to something there, Yinsun. It DOES seem kind of fishy that we have this story about Shaohao and his seven burdens, and this seven-headed thingamabob, and then we only have six sha that we know about. It’s definitely worth considering whether we’ve got one more sha on the loose that nobody’s thought of. (Hell, I was even bouncing ideas about this around with some people on Twitter a little while ago.)
For anybody keeping score at home, we might as well start with the basics. Right now, we’ve got six sha accounted for: the Sha of Doubt, the Sha of Anger, the Sha of Despair, the Sha of Violence, the Sha of Hatred, and the Sha of Fear.
So, okay, let’s suppose there’s one more out there. Since the sha we know about all seem to be named for pretty major negative emotions or vices…hmm…let’s see, what do we have left for major negatives?
There could be a Sha of Greed, I suppose. Although…I mean, we have goblins with us, and I have to figure if there were a Sha of Greed, people like Grizzle Gearslip would be setting the fucker off left and right. The Sha of Jealousy, maybe? Makes sense on paper, but again, you’d figure we’d be having outbreaks all over the place, seeing as we’ve got a base full of people who’ve been watching me stroll around day after day. And you KNOW the peeps get jelly when they feast their eyes to the pure awesome that is yours truly, amirite?
So we’re kind of running out of major vices to pair up with the missing sha. What else is there? Free-associate, Garrosh… hmm… the Sha of Gluttony? The Sha of Sloth? The Sha of Anteater?
Hang on…I think that line of thought took a wrong turn on me somehow.
Maybe we’re going about this wrong. Time to think outside the box a little. For all we know, this last sha could be kind of a niche sha, something more specific and less…well…grandiose. Which might explain why this one might have been able to fly under the radar all this time. So, let’s see, what else could be out there as the sneakier, subtler bane of our existence…
- The Sha of Social Awkwardness
- The Sha of Small Talk
- The Sha of Poor Table Manners
- The Sha of Bad Penmanship
- The Sha of Bad Spelling
- The Sha of Typos (possibly related to above)
- The Sha of Not Picking Up After Your Wyvern
- The Sha of Repetition
- The Sha of Redundancy
- The Sha of Telegraphing Bad Jokes
- The Sha of Walking Really Slowly in Front of People at the Mall
- The Sha of Paper Towels with Inexplicably Strong Perforation So You Try to Snap Off One Square and End Up Yanking Out Half the Roll
- The Sha of Telling the Same Story Over and Over and Over Again Even Though Yes I Already Know How You Met Eitrigg Okay Tirion
Okay, you know what? This is going nowhere fast.
Wait, wait, hang on a second… I could swear I HAVE seen another sha somewhere.
HOLY FUCKING HELL THAT’S IT! THE SHA OF HAPPINESS! Come to think of it, I even remember seeing this fucker on Twitter! Fuckin’ A, I KNEW all those annoyingly happy assholes like Mylune were up to no good! IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.
Okay, that’s going to do it for this time, but keep those letters coming. You guys really stepped up to the plate with this batch of letters, so you know what that means — THE BAR HAS BEEN RAISED. So keep it going, and I’ll try to be back with more wise words soon. Handy form included:
