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Live Blog: Storming the Bastion
Citizens of the Horde,
I write to you today from our staging ground at the Twilight Citadel. As you are no doubt aware, as I write these words to you, we are about to launch our incursion into the Bastion of Twilight; once underway, my chirographically proficient aide Mokvar will continue to update this space to keep you all informed of our progress – a process I am told is generally referred to as “live blogging.” Before passing full control of our communication over to Mokvar, I am taking the liberty here of offering these opening remarks to set the stage, as it were.
I arrived at Twilight Highlands with several Kor’kron detachments late last night, and immediately prepared our forces to move on the Bastion of Twilight. Zaela offered Dragonmaw support for our operation, even volunteering to accompany us herself; I cordially declined the offer – I believe my exact words were “I think you’ve done enough already, thank you” – and suggested that Zaela and her troops instead stake out the Twilight Citadel perimeter, a baby-steps measure of safeguarding from which she might benefit from practice.
[Never send a Dragonmaw to do a Saurfang’s job. –Mkvr., ed.]
It’s over to me now, by the way, so I guess I don’t really need the usual brackets. Mokvar here. I’ll try to keep posting these quickly. It’s going to depend on what’s going on at the time, obviously, but I’ll try to stay on task. Hopefully this will go well.
Keep refreshing this page to update – I’ll be continually adding to the post as we go along.
8:02 PM – Zoning into the Bastion now. We’ll see how this goes…
8:05 PM – All troops are inside. Already a bit peculiar — there are corpses of a couple of cultists here by the entrance. They don’t seem like they’ve been dead for very long. We’re moving in further into the major chamber.
8:08 PM – Well that explains that. In the big room just inside the Bastion, there were two more dead cultists, then on the far end of the room yet another one dead, along with one live Twilight cultist — in the middle of combat with Garona. She seemed like she was doing fine by herself, but Saurfang and the closest batch of Kor’kron jumped in to help finish the cultist off. It bears noting — he got the most hilarious look of “Oh, come ON” on his face just before they dropped him.
8:10 PM – Also, I just have to ask: don’t these guards look around at all? That is, sure, the cultists that Garona attacked before we got here were stationed in pairs, but they were also all within eyeshot of each other. Isn’t it kind of strange that each pair pretty much stood around keeping to themselves while Garona was killing their friends at the other end of the room? Just sayin’.
8:14 PM – Garona says she stealthed ahead to check out more of the Bastion before we got here. According to her, most of the cultists that are here seem to be clustered near Cho’gall’s old command room — the Throne of the Apocalypse. She says there were enough there packed close enough together that she didn’t want to risk stealthing in any further. There weren’t many Twilight’s Hammer people elsewhere in the place, other than these groups of guards near the entrance, so she decided to come back here first to make sure she’d cleared an escape path for herself just in case.
8:16 PM – Moving on further now with Garona on board.
8:17 PM – Hang on, AFK – combat!!
8:20 PM – Sorry, back.
We were about to head down the next hallway, but a portal opened up near the entrance, and about a dozen Twilight cultists came through and came running up on us from behind. Contrary to what you might think, crazed apocalyptic world-destroying lunatics don’t have the basic manners to lay off the guy in the back who’s just trying to mind his own business and write.
Anyway, Saurfang and the other made pretty short work of them just the same. I think we’re clear now.
8:21 PM – Spoke too soon. Another wave coming through the portal! Stand by.
8:22 PM – Seriously, why do these Twilight people always insist on coming at Saurfang in twos? After all this time, does the word “CLEAVE” really not ring any bells to these people?
8:25 PM – Give up your futile struggle, doomed fools! All is but chaos and darkness! The Hour of Twilight shall fall, and the sun shall set on your mortal realm! Accept the inevitable and embrace the end as we have!
8:27 PM – Yikes, sorry! One of those damn cultists freaking mind-controlled me for a minute there!
Funny he would make me write that, though, rather than, say, try to stab somebody. Then again, I guess even these cultists need an outlet sometimes. That and they’re insane.
8:29 PM – Cultists taken out. We’ve only lost two Kor’kron so far, so we’re handling them pretty well. Still, we’re going to hold position here and watch that portal. That’s two waves of cultists that have come through, so we don’t want to move on right off and be taken by surprise.
8:33 PM – Nothing coming from the portal so far. Saurfang has decided to leave a group here to stand guard while the rest of us use the portal and see what’s going on on the other end, wherever it is.
Saurfang’s also making a big point of us all going through together, and how he doesn’t want to go through, find himself in a room with a hundred cultists, look around, and see he’s all by himself.
I asked if he was worried he would be overwhelmed.
He said no, he just figures that that would give him a huge head start on the scoreboard and he wants to play fair by the rest of us.
Damn I love Saurfang.
8:41 PM – We’ve just gone through the portal, and this is a little eerie. The portal took us all the way to the heart of the Bastion — straight to Cho’gall’s old command room, the Throne of the Apocalypse. Based on the waves of cultists that were coming through the portal just a few minutes ago, I was expecting us to be swimming in them when we came out on this side, but strangely enough, the throne room is empty.
Empty, and a mess. The place is still in tatters from Cho’gall’s last battle here. The huge hole in the floor, leading down to Sinestra’s lair in the Twilight Caverns below, is still there and visible, but it’s been more or less covered by a series of wooden planks and platforms. All around the room there are different pieces of conjuring paraphenalia, much like the junk the Twilight’s Hammer had down in Ahn’Qiraj, only here it looks to be strewn all over the place, some of it broken. In the middle of the room there’s a heavy wooden prisoner’s scaffold — broken as well, nearly cracked into splinters in some spots. There look to be broken chains laying around it on the ground as well.
The biggest eye-catcher, though, is the fact that the room is littered with bodies — cultists of all races, several ettin, a handful of ogres. Most of the bodies look to be recently dead, many of them still seeping blood across the floor.
We’ve only just had enough time to take all this in, and now we’re hearing some commotion going on a ways down the hall, heading back out from the throne room. We’re on our way out now. Stand by.
8:44 PM – Just made our way through the Sanctum of the Ascended. Three more dead ettin here, and no shortage of blodd spattered all around. We’re still hearing noise from further out, but it sounds like we’re getting closer.
Saurfang and Garona are picking up the pace and growing visibly fired up by all this, and I can’t really blame them, considering the short list of candidates who could have a hand in this much damage…
8:46 PM – Heading down into the Twilight Enclave now — this is definitely where the noise is coming from.
8:50 PM – HOLY CRAP, they have a gronn!! (By the way, weren’t there only supposed to be a handful of gronn in existence? How do these Twilight Highlands cultists keep digging up extras?) Anyway, this one is pretty much as big as a gronn could get and still fit in here. It’s blocking the view of the far exit, and it’s got a gang of cultists swarming around it — not swarming like they’re attacking the gronn, but swarming like they’re all on the same side against a shared target, in the doorway.
8:53 PM – Okay, time to settle your bets on this one — it’s Garrosh!
Also worth noting that we were finally able to see him in the doorway because he just bladestormed down like half a dozen of the cultists.
And, with a patented “You answer to Saurfang now!” from the overlord, here we go!
8:56 PM – Well, here we were going to go. Just as we were starting to charge in, we suddenly found ourselves rooted in place by some kind of slowing field, then guess who comes swooping in on that freaky wind serpent of hers? Magatha Grimtotem herself! (Nerf earthbind totems!)
8:59 PM – A large chunk of the cultists broke off to attack our group. Including, you guessed it, two who ran right at Saurfang. Together. Why, seriously, why?
Meanwhile, Magatha’s landed and taken out a glowing, pulsating orb — is that the Doomstone? She’s chanting something and the orb is glowing brighter.
9:02 PM – …Only nobody really noticed that Garona was unaccounted for, and she just popped out of stealth behind Magatha! Stunlock! And pissed-off stunlock too, from the looks of it! Ha! (Nerf rogues!)
9:04 PM – Another bladestorm from Garrosh, and now it’s just down to him and the gronn. The only other cultists left are the ones busy fighting the Kor’kron…and they could probably be holding their own okay if it weren’t for the old guy cleaving his way through them.
9:05 PM – Crap. Saurfang managed to close in on the gronn to help Garrosh, but the gronn must have heard him coming because it just turned around and hit him with some kind of shockwave effect, which did a knockback on Saurfang and threw straight back into Garona.
9:09 PM – Okay, mixed bag here.
The good: Throwing down that shockwave distracted the gronn just enough that Garrosh was able to get a few good hits in on him, and by the time it got its bearing back, it was short…um…an arm.
Now — YEAH! — short a head!
The bad: Saurfang getting flung into Garona kept her from doing her stun-lock thing, so now Magatha is back up and remounted on her blasted wind serpent.
9:13 PM – With the gronn dead and the cultists pretty well under control, Magatha tried flying out the doorway away from us — as she swooped by, though, Garrosh managed to leap up and catch the wind serpent’s tail. Magath kept going and she’s carrying him with her away from the Enclave. Saurfang and Garona have collected themselves and the bunch of us who aren’t locked down the remaining cultists are heading up after them.
9:20 PM – We’ve made it back up to Wyrmbreaker’s Rookery. Magatha’s wind serpent is zig-zagging around, and it looks kind of shaky so maybe Garrosh has gotten in a few good swings on it while he’s been holding on. Still, though, between the wind serpent thrashing around and Magatha letting loose some lightning bolts, they just managed to shake Garrosh loose and dropped him on the rookery balcony, overlooking the Highlands.
Magatha pulled away with the wind serpent, but then she just stopped and pulled the Doomstone out again. I couldn’t hear from here, but she started saying something, maybe another one of her chants, and the stone started glowing insanely brightly in rapid pulses. Then she hit Garrosh with one more lightning bolt — looks like he just shook that one off mostly — and threw the Doomstone down on the balcony. It gave off an energy burst when it landed that pushed Garrosh back a few feet. It’s pulsing faster and brighter now, and giving out a humming that’s getting louder by the second.
9:24 PM – Crap, I think Magatha just overcharged the Doomstone! The pulsing is more like a strobe effect now, and the buzzing noise is going right through my ears. Magatha’s flown off from the overlook on her wind serpent, but right now I think we’ve got bigger things to worry about — Saurfang just grabbed Garona to pull her back and shoved everyone back from balcony.
9:25 PM – Yep, it’s gonna blow! If I’m still too close give my internet router to Spazzle…
9:26 PM – Garrosh jumped! He just jumped off the balcony to get clear of the blast!
9:30 PM – OW, my ears. And my eyes, too, for that matter. Wow that was explosion was sensory overload… Going to need a minute to steady myself here…
The explosion pretty much took out the entire balcony…there are chunks of the floor and walls still crumbling and breaking loose…cracks all around the room are going to make the place pretty unstable to move around in.
Saurfang just did a quick head count to make sure the bunch of us were okay. Garona’s already making her way over toward the ledge to see if there was anything down below for Garrosh to have grabbed on to…
9:34 PM – HA! The wyvern! Garrosh just came floating on up into view on his wyvern! It must have been flying around the Bastion and caught him when he jumped off! See, see, I told him it was a good-looking animal back in Ashenvale, but does anyone listen to me? Nooo.
Um, I mean, yeah! Garrosh is safe!
9:40 PM – Whew…. Okay, so we’ve gotten the cultists cleaned up, and Garrosh had landed and rejoined us (not too close to the cracked and unstable falling-apart room, mind you). Saurfang’s in the process of surveying the troops, but just eyeballing it I’d say our casualties were relatively light. Granted we lost Magatha, and there are still some gaps to fill in about what was going on here, but Garrosh and Saurfang and the rest can worry about that afterward. For now we’re just concentrating on gathering up and getting ready to bring everyone back home to Orgrimmar.
Stand by a minute, I think Saurfang’s going to want to wrap things up here before we head out.
Also I need to go find some aspirin.
Also Spazzle had better not have made off with my router.
Victory is ours, friends! And so, with Warchief Hellscream returned to us safely, the time has come for me to relinquish the mantle of leadership and return to my post in Northrend. I wish to thank you all for your support and your courage, and also for continuing to read this space which I have maintained for the Warchief as best I could. I trust Warchief Hellscream will resume his communication with you in short order, and I am sure he will look forward to hearing from you, his people, as much as you will no doubt look forward to once again benefiting from his sage words.
And with that, people of the Horde, I sign my final note to you. It has, as always, been an honor to serve with you.
Lok’tar ogar, friends. Honor go with you all.
-Saurfang
Draz’Zilb’s Discovery
Citizens of the Horde,
Some days ago I alluded to a conjuration proposed by the morally tenebrous ogre Draz’Zilb which, performed upon those entities who were in close proximity of the then-hostage Skarr, might cast some light on any magics unleashed on Alcaz Island. With the unexpected departure of Warchief Hellscream’s personal wyvern – still at large despite our continued efforts to find it – one of our prime subjects was taken from us, but since that time we have had occasion to revisit the conjuration with respect to our other remaining subjects: the omnisyllabically discursive soldiers Dontrag and Utvoch.
After having the procedure explained to them – a process which took no small measure of time, given the pair’s peculiar reluctance to allow Draz’Zilb to complete a sentence unimpeded until I intervened –
[Saurfang doesn’t have to get a word in edgewise. When he talks, everybody else’s words stop what they were doing and turn into “Yes sir.” –Mkvr., ed.]
the duo were initially uneasy about the ritual, as they indicated some prior experience witnessing the effects of Draz’Zilb’s spellcasting. After some reassurance, however, we were able to carry on with the process. The results were revealing, though perplexing.
Draz’Zilb’s original notion was that the proximity of Dontrag and Utvoch (and the wyvern) to Skarr at such time as Cho’gall’s spirit was summoned from within him would leave residual magic traces – aftershocks, in essence – on them that we would then be able to detect. Draz’Zilb’s divination did indeed detect powerful magical signatures lingering on the pair; based on his examination, however, these magics were not consistent with the unlocking of a living phylactery. Instead, he believes that the magical effect to which our subjects were exposed was purely explosive in nature – powerfully explosive at that.
While our information is, of course, incomplete at best, Draz’Zilb has suggested that his findings correspond to a sort of magical explosion that can be detonated by feeding off of the life energy of a living being. Such a measure would not be out of character for the Twilight’s Hammer, as we have had first-hand experience with their willingness to use suicide bombers in their attack on the Doomhammer. Nevertheless, it leaves us with many questions about what actually occurred to the ogre Skarr: not least among them, of course, being where he was when the detonation occurred, and indeed whether he himself was the instrument of the explosion – and, if so, what are we left to conclude about his role in the revival of Cho’gall?
Dontrag and Utvoch are, sadly, of little aid in filling in the gaps of our knowledge, as it is likely that the explosion incapacitated them prior to their removal to the island’s underground tunnels, and one can hardly expect them to retain clear memories of the final instants immediately prior to the detonation. I will likely dispatch Krog to the island once more to search for additional evidence, though I am not optimistic about there being anything left after our original exhaustive searches.
I have additional measures to tend to personally for the investigation. For the moment, however, having just spent much of the day with Dontrag and Utvoch, I believe I will grant myself a brief respite at the Orgrimmar tavern.
[Saurfang doesn’t always drink lager, but when he does, he prefers Captain Rumsey’s. –Mkvr., ed.]
I will update again soon, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang
Monday, once again, Mailbag
Citizens of the Horde,
It is time once again for me to respond to the various and sundry missives that have found their way to me since last week. This time I seem to drawn the attention of some unlikely writers indeed…
Salutations and greetings under the Infinitely Holy Light, Varok Saurfang! It is my hope that, with the recent change in leadership in Orgrimmar, peace talks can at some point resume. I write to you regarding a terrible danger the seers of the Exodar have seen growing in the heart of the Horde. I speak not of the abominable Banshee Queen or the legions of unholy warlocks infesting your cities, but of a force very close to the center of the Horde – the (currently missing) Garrosh Hellscream. Have you seen him lately? Before he went missing, I mean. He looks rather terribly like a Fel Orc; I fear he has been suckling at the same festering hellteats from which his father supped. Please, if you know it, tell me the identity of the Pit Lord whose blood he has been drinking! The destruction of Hellscream’s demonic master will (once again) liberate the Horde from servitude in the Legion, to the great good of life throughout the Universe.
The Naaru have not forgotten you!
–Eliseth the Argent Champion, The Exodar, Azuremyst Isle
Firstly, having spent considerable time with Warchief Hellscream in Northrend, and being very much aware of his busy schedule since his move to Durotar, I can attest that no such transgressions have taken place as the drinking of demon blood. Moreover, good Eliseth, I am troubled by your willingness to jump to conclusions based solely on the Warchief’s appearance; his skin tone is well within the range of hues common to Mag’har orcs, particularly those who suffered from the red pox in their youth, and if your comment is in some way a reference to the Warchief’s (well-publicized) cranial idiosyncrasies, I believe Warchief Hellscream himself has addressed this matter on at least one occasion.
Rest assured, therefore, that there is no demonic influence at the heart of the Horde, and, by extension, you need not worry that the Burning Legion has set its eyes once again on Azeroth. Should the Legion indeed move against this world, you may further take comfort that we orcs will be ready to stand against them in defense of our home, and in so doing will almost certainly provide you and your eredar kin with ample time to pack. There are, I am sure, plenty of other worlds to which you might relocate while the rest of the “Universe” about which you clearly care so much undertakes to clean up after you.
Congratulations on your elevation to leadership of the Horde. I’m sure your peons are thrilled to have a competent commander grinding their faces into the mud of Durotar. I’m writing to inquire about a specific aspect of foreign policy instituted under the (hopefully) late and unlamented Warchief Hellscream (may his body never be found); specifically, his declaration that “all Kalimdor belongs to the Horde”. This claim is idiotic, unenforceable, and will serve only to utterly repudiate any overtures of peace you may wish to make. I advise you to rescind this edict, and withdraw back past the Southfury where you belong. Or preferably, all the way back to Draenor. Get off our planet, alien scum!
Sincerely,
–Sepharad of the Nightfall
Watcher
Darnassus, Teldrassil
Kalimdor (seriously, it belongs to the Kaldorei)
Azeroth (not your homeworld)
Greetings, Sepharad. If you will indulge my pedantry for a moment, I would like to elucidate a few linguistic and rhetorical points that you may find beneficial in future endeavors.
Specifically, there is a concept in argument generally referred to as “ethical appeal.” This notion, contrary to what might be suggested by its nomenclature, does not hinge on one’s “ethical” or moral goodness, but rather on the manifest ethos, or identity, which one presents in one’s interactions. Thus, for instance, one who presents oneself as gracious and even-handed is likely to prove more persuasive than one who conveys a persona of rudeness and closed-mindedness, by virtue of their relative ethical appeal.
With this in mind, I might suggest in future missives, should you wish to urge policy change from your reader, you may do well not to open, for instance, by insinuating derision for your reader’s entire society and its adopted home; or by openly hoping for the demise of individuals about whose safety you know your readers to be sincerely concerned; or by levying thinly veiled threats, employing racial slurs, or expressing outright hostility toward your audience. (I would also note, if you truly take such offense at “alien scum” taking up residence on other worlds, you may wish to craft an additional letter to Prophet Velen of your allies the draenei, as his people, if we are to carry out a cursory review of history, have developed something of a pattern of behavior along these lines.)
These are basic concepts of rhetoric, and it saddens me that such an ancient and storied culture as that of the night elves would apparently fail to properly educate its watchers. Lacking a compelling argument in its support, therefore, I feel I must decline your policy recommendation.
[If at first you don’t succeed, you clearly aren’t Saurfang. –Mkvr., ed.]
With that said, if you will pardon me, a chill has begun to drift into the room, so I believe I shall go now to add a log or two of Ashenvale lumber to the fireplace.
What’s up? Even though we goblins in Ratchet try to keep ourselves neutral to this whole Horde/Alliance thing, I do try to keep an eye on what’s going on in the major cities – especially since I have a few cousins in the Bilgewater Cartel living with you guys in Orgrimmar now. I noticed your post the other day about Garrosh’s wyvern getting loose, and I thought you’d be want to know about a weird moment we had here on the docks yesterday. I was hanging around here on the dock, minding my own business, when lo and behold a wyvern flies in and lands just a few yards away, and just sits around by the end of the dock. He wasn’t doing anything, not really even taking notice of anyone, just sitting there. The after a while, one of our ships came in from Booty Bay. The wyvern up and strolled onto the boat, sat himself back down, and just stayed there until the ship headed back out again.
Now, I don’t know if this was Garrosh’s wyvern. I don’t know what his wyvern looks like, other than, you know, looking like a wyvern, and I can’t say I could really tell one wyvern from another anyway. But I thought you might want to know about this.
–Wharfmaster Dizzywig, Ratchet
My thanks to you, Wharfmaster. This is interesting news indeed. While we cannot be certain that the wyvern you describe is the Warchief’s, its behavior certainly appears peculiar enough to merit investigation. I will notify our officers in Stranglethorn Vale of this development, and expand our scouting patrols to that region.
Greetings, Your Warchieferousness! I hope you’re having an absolutely splendid day. I am not having an absolutely splendid day because I keep bumping my head on the doorways here in the goblin slums. I may be the cutest undead killing machine ever to rise from the battlefields of the Third War, but terrible necromantic power has no effect on goblin architecture. Could you possibly see your way clear to annulling former acting Warchief Hellscream’s edict that all races “not strong enough” to defend Orgrimmar (anyone not a tauren or orc, in Hellscream’s piggy little eyes) be banished from the city? I am an implacable harbinger of icy death, and I’m worth at least two tauren anywhere outside a goblin barbeque. I know no fear! I know no pain! I am totally strong enough to defend Orgrimmar. I want my house back.
Yours,
–Twilight Vanquisher Aimee (Knight of the Ebon Blade, not the cake vendor), Frickin’ Goblin Slums
A pity, Aimee, that you aren’t the Aimee I recall from Northrend. Many were the evenings that I enjoyed one of her selections with my nightly Mok’nathal tea. I recall her red velvet cake was especially sumptuous. You might consider, in fact, looking into baking as a sideline, as I am sure you will find a great many fans should you demonstrate mastery in it; moreover, we find ourselves recently understaffed in Orgrimmar in the area of infantry cooks, so you may well find it a worthwhile avenue for career advancement.
Speaking of which, in a roundabout way, as you are a current resident of the goblin slums, how is the rice situation coming along? Markedly improved, I would hope.
At any rate, I realize that you are not the Aimee of cakery fame, though, again, I would urge you to consider my thoughts on the matter. Still, you certainly share a name of delicious connotation. (Have you considered adopting a pseudonym for combat purposes, incidentally? Though I do not doubt your martial prowess, I am unsure that “Aimee” strikes adequate fear into the hearts of your foes. Compare: “Run! Saurfang just cleaved the heads off of the general and his squire!” “Run! Aimee is accessorizing her Lovely Pink Dress!”)
Where were we again? You will pardon an old man for his tangents. Ah yes, the goblin slums.
Redistricting is indeed always a controversial issue, Aimee. I will endeavor to look into the matter, though the allocation of housing space in a high-demand, high-population area such as Orgrimmar is always precarious at best. In the interim, have you considered investigating real estate options in nearby Razor Hill? I am told suburban areas within easy commuting distance of the major urban centers often offer surprisingly reasonable rental costs. (I would suggest Bilgewater Harbor as another nearby option, but I believe you have clearly established your feelings on goblin neighborhoods.) Or, if you feel your happiness truly depends on residing in the city proper, perhaps the troll architecture of a few blocks north of you would be more suitable?
I will grant I am hardly a real estate expert – many years have passed since I paid off my mortgage on the old Nagrand split-level, and being as I am career military, I have myself always moved from one assigned quarters to the next – but I will attempt to look into matters further to see if anything can be done.
That is all the mail I have time to attend to his week; as always I thank you for your correspondence. I will, of course, continue to keep you posted on our unfolding operations, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang
Flown the Coop, as the Saying Goes
Citizens of the Horde,
Interrogation of our various captives carries on, and begins to yield fruit, albeit gradually. Just this morning, the perspicacious rogue Krog reported to me personally to provide updates on his ongoing questioning of those Grimtotem who were apprehended during out recent operations out of Brackenwall Village. A good man, that Krog, and thorough.
His questioning confirms what we already knew of the Grimtotem situation – that they had, under the direction of Magatha Grimtotem through her lieutenants Arnak Grimtotem and Isha Gloomaxe, begun to search for the now-infamous phylactery of Cho’gall, so as to strike a bargain with the Twilight’s Hammer cult – while further indicating that thus far, no agreements or alliances had been forged between the two groups. Indeed, shortly after the nefarious tauren clan began their hunt, the Twilight’s Hammer stepped up their activities in Thousand Needles, resulting in the Twilight capture of several Grimtotem, most notably Magatha…who, as you are already well aware, was subsequently freed through unwitting (nay, witless) Horde assistance.
Nevertheless, I find the timing of these events to be hardly coincidental, and I suspect that the Twilight cult undertook a pointed effort to capture Magatha upon discovering that she and her kin were endeavoring to complicate the cult’s efforts to resurrect the odious ogre Cho’gall.
That relations between the Grimtotem and the Twilight’s Hammer are, to say the least, unfriendly is confirmed by early reports from Garona Halforcen in Silithus. While Garona finds herself still early in her interrogation of our Twilight prisoners (a process which, I hope, will not be slowed too greatly by the temptation to relish the process), she has been able to confirm a reciprocal disdain for the Grimtotem on behalf of the Twilight’s Hammer cultists.
Meanwhile, I have recruited the aid of the resourceful ogre seer Draz’Zilb of Brackenwall Village, who has already been of assistance in these events to both Krog and to Warchief Hellscream, in the hopes that we might glean some additional information through more mystical means. Draz’Zilb has theorized that, given the powerful magics involved in the phylactery containment of Cho’gall’s spirit, as well as in its possible release, it may be possible to conduct a divination of sorts through any living beings who were in close proximity to the ogre Skarr when, or if, these necromantic powers were tapped. This afternoon Draz’Zilb joined me in Orgrimmar to attempt such a divination, to see if any traces of recent spellcasting or magical aftershocks might be discerned through the three entities we know to have been present with Skarr on Alcaz Island (excepting, of course, Warchief Hellscream): the externally monologuing soldiers Dontrag and Utvoch, and the Warchief’s personal wyvern.
Draz’Zilb began his divination with the wyvern, which has finally recovered from its injuries on the island. (I will hasten to note for those D.E.H.T.A.-friendly among you, incidentally, that I was assured that no harm would come to the wyvern as a result of these magics; I am moreover informed that the Warchief had developed quite a fondness for the animal, and having enjoyed the companionship of numerous pet worgs in my youth, I am not unsympathetic.) Draz’Zilb detected signs from the wyvern’s residual magic aura that it had indeed been exposed to a magic outburst of some sort; however, the wyvern appeared uneasy throughout the divination process, and while it was still in its early stages, the process was interrupted by the arrival of Dontrag and Utvoch, which served only to further agitate the animal. Before our handlers could calm the increasingly emotional beast, it managed to slip from its restraints and fly off.
I have sent a scouting detail to patrol Durotar and its surrounding areas to locate the wyvern, but its whereabouts are currently unknown. I must admit, given our current situation I cannot say that the recovery of the animal can afford to rank as a high priority, though it would indeed pain me upon the Warchief’s return to have to report that we had lost it in his absence.
I shall continue to keep you updated as events continue to unfold, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang
Alcaz Island Investigations
Citizens of the Horde,
I offer my apologies for the tardiness of this update. As you may well imagine, however, these have been hectic days in Orgrimmar, and I fear that my daily activities have left little time to attend to my authorial duties as I know I should.
The search for Warchief Hellscream continues. At present I cannot, unfortunately, report his safe return, but I remain hopeful that we will find him and bring him back to safety. Horde agents are pursuing a number of possible leads as to his whereabouts; in the meantime, I shall take this opportunity to provide you with further detail as to where the investigation stands.
As I noted in my previous message, Horde forces arrived at Alcaz Island some hours after Warchief Hellscream’s departure from Orgrimmar. Upon their arrival, they found no sign of the Warchief, nor of the schizophrenic ogre Skarr, but did observe signs of struggle across a considerable span of the island, in particular in the area immediately surrounding one of the many naga conjuring circles that mark the terrain there. In the nearby jungle, scouts found the Warchief’s personal wyvern, wounded and disoriented (which, I am informed, led to some minor lacerations prior to its recognition of the friendly nature of the orcs who found it). The wyvern’s presence at the island confirms that the Warchief did indeed arrive at Alcaz Island, and was not, as some suspected possible, intercepted en route.
Further investigation of the island revealed an elaborate system of underground tunnels, perhaps utilized at some prior time by the infuriatingly rasputinian gnome Dr. Weavil, who had taken up residence on the island at roughly the same time as the Qiraji War Effort. While a painstaking search of the tunnels produced no concrete evidence of Warchief Hellscream’s presence, it did uncover, unconscious, the missing verbose soldiers Dontrag and Utvoch, who had been sent to deliver Skarr to the island as part of the Warchief’s original stratagem.
Upon recovering consciousness in Orgrimmar, Dontrag and Utvoch reported that shortly after their arrival at the island, they were attacked by a large contingent of Grimtotem raiders. Unsurprisingly, the insidious ogre Skarr seized upon this opportunity to turn on the orcs; they could recall little else after this point, as it was doubtless at this time that they were knocked out and dragged to the tunnels. Based on their testimony, it would appear that the Grimtotem succeeded in gaining control of the island prior to the Warchief’s arrival. At present it is unclear whether Magatha Grimtotem herself was present for the attack, or whether she arrived at the island at any point thereafter.
I have dispatched the intrepid investigator Krog to the island to scour for any further evidence, and in the meantime I am conducting an exhaustive survey of all Grimtotem encampments and activities in Kalimdor. Since it is clear that their involvement in the affair is deep, I have concluded that a thorough – and emphatic – response is called for.
I shall provide further updates as time allows, friends. Honor go with us all.
-Saurfang
Fitting names and key words
Probably not much of a shock to anyone, but after yesterday I really needed a little time to just take my mind off the whole Twilight situation, so I ended up hopping onto Earth Online for a while. So I was going around leveling my new gardener alt, when I ran into this other player and, well, what resulted was probably one of the most gloriously accurate things I’ve ever seen in the game. Here:
I mean, isn’t that…just…yeah. HAH!
While I’m at it, what with the new year, this might also be a good chance to look back at this first year of the Command Board. Well, first partial year, anyway…I only just started this thing up at the tail end of August. But still! Anyway, it’s definitely been a fun ride so far, but one thing I just look a look back at is the Google search terms that have been bringing people to the blog. Some of them make plenty of sense, but some of them…well…
Let’s just say some of you people really need to talk to someone.
Let me be really clear about this. I think it’s awesome that you guys are coming here to read the blog, and I’m happy that people are finding their way here one way or another. I’m not going to turn up my nose at blog visits from anybody. But, that being said, HOLY FUCKING SHIT some of these search terms are disturbing.
The most common ones are actually pretty good. Matter of fact, it kind of feels good when I see someone come to the Command Board based on search terms that make it pretty clear that they’d heard about the blog somehow. Like for instance, these were the top search terms last year:
warchief’s command board
the warchiefs command board
warchief command board
garrosh hellscream blog
warchief command board blog
So yeah, cool, so far so good. Then there was this one, which I figure was a typo except it had a bunch of hits coming from it, and I get what they were going for but it’s still kinda funny:
warchief command boars
I can think of at least five directions you can go with that. YMMV. Have at it an enjoy.
Then, things start to take a HARD left turn into Asshole-ville. Here’s a sampling:
“my pants got caught” “dangling or dangle or dangles or dangled or hang or hanging or hangs or hanged or hung”
why isnt the warchiefs command board working for me
sergeant dontrag the door is closed
mistress command eat my shit
jaina proudmoore head
wyvren muscle fuck
omg son of arugal
what is the warchiefs wife
sylvanas for warchief
rexxar for warchief
jaina proudmoore nude
sylvanas windrunner fuck
jaina proudmoore fucking
jaina proudmoore gets fucked
jaina proudmoore fucked
Okay, so first of all…I have to admit, I’m kind of scared now. I’m going to be really, really optimistic and assume that my regular readers are like…you know…vaguely well adjusted and…um…manage to get laid on a semi-regular basis. Some of the passers-by, though…yeah, you guys really need to get out more.
Especially the Jaina thing. I mean I know I clown on her a lot, but come on, guys. For realsies. This is just kinda sad.
That said…thanks for finding your way here one way or another! Barring some catastrophe, you can look forward to lots more thrilling tales and brilliant insights from your Warchief in the year ahead. AREN’T YOU LUCKY.
Monday mailbag
Short break from the ongoing business in Silithus and Ferelas and Dustwallow and wherever the hell I’m going to end up getting stuck going to next, to answer some mail…
Dear Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde;
I just wanted to thank you for kindly taking the time out of your busy schedule to spread some cheer at the orphanage this Winter’s Veil. The children were so thrilled to meet Greatfather Winter in person and to receive their new toys. There is so little excitement in their daily routine, and they have so very few possessions, that this event made a huge impression on them. Many are still talking about it to this day.
Of course, some of the older children realize that it was not really Greatfather Winter delivering their presents; however, they were quite touched to see that the Warchief himself has not forgotten them, the Horde’s smallest and most vulnerable citizens. I have informed these older children about the existence of your blog, so you may notice a slight increase in your readership.
Thank you once again, and may you have a very happy New Year.
–Orphan Matron Battlewail.
Some of you might have remembered last week that Eitrigg had gotten me to “volunteer” to play Greatfather Winter at the Orgrimmar orphanage (read: he went ahead and fucking told them I was going to do it without actually asking me, then played the honor-your-commitments and set-an-example-for-keeping-your-word-for-the-kids cards on me). A lot of you have probably seen this already, but @_Rades over at Orcish Army Knife somehow managed to get a picture of the spectacle too, so that might be worth a peek if you really don’t want to let me get away with any dignity.
Anyway, though… I guess it’s good that the kids felt like someone was looking out for them, even if a lot of them ARE a bunch of snot-nosed little brats. (And to think Thrall actually wants to be a dad, too… I’ll tell you right now, I am NOT looking forward to playing Uncle Garrosh at those get-togethers.)
My name is Gurtash, and I’m 13 years old. I live in Orgrimmar at the orphinage. My mom was sick and died after leaving the enterrnment camps. My dad died in battle in Northend fighting scorge. He was very brave and taght me to live with honor. I am going to be a warrior to like my dad and you.
Matron Battlewhale showwed me your blog it is very good. I love wyverns and Mortimer is the best! I seen you fly him before. My dad said I could have wyvern when I’m older but he died. Can i help you take care of Mortimer? I will feed him and brush him and clean his stall and talk to him. Maybe you could give me some sillver for helping or not that’s ok to. Let me know ok. Thanks.
Flying in the sky
Someday I’ll fly as high
Mortimer on the wing
Faster than anything
Loyal to the end
Protecting his friend
So dont start a fight
He will end it right.
EPIC VERSE!
–Gurtash
Uh oh, here we go. Well, I guess Battlewhale— erm, I mean, Battlewail did warn me.
Wait, this kid’s dad died fighting the Scourge in Northrend? But that would mean…oh crap.
So, Gurtash, I um…yeah, I’m sorry about your folks, but it’s good to hear you want to be a brave warrior of the Horde like your dad. Lucky for you we do have some really good trainers here in Orgrimmar, so make sure you listen to them once you’re a little older and you get to go down to the Valley of Trials. And make sure you eat lots of meat to build your strength. I know a lot of grownups are going to try pushing the vegetables on you, and they’re fine if you can choke them down, I guess, but trust me on this, you’re going to want a lot of protein for muscle. Pork, steak, bacon – dude, you cannot possibly get enough bacon – tastes great and great FOR you! Take it from your Warchief.
Also gotta say, you win points for the epic verse (no caps here because it’s kind of EPIC VERSE! junior edition in this case). Keep up the poetry, and just remember, don’t let anybody give you any crap about it. Somewhere along the line, some smartass is probably going to try to make some wisecracks about you writing poetry, but don’t listen to them. In fact, the best way to handle it is to just let them yammer on, let them take their best shot, and then take YOUR best shot back, ideally by beating the living shit out of them. I mean the living crap. I’m not supposed to say “shit” to you, am I, right? Fuck. DAMMIT, I did it again! Forget both of those. (AND DO NOT TRY ASKING MATRON BATTLEWAIL WHAT THE SECOND ONE MEANS. THAT IS AN ORDER!! Whew.)
Anyway, Gurtash, Mortimer DOES take a lot of time and attention, not that I really mind, but a little help on busy days or when I have to be away from Orgrimmar might be handy, come to think of it. I’ll see about bringing you over to Grommash Hold for a visit and see if we can set something up…just watch the talons until he gets used to you! Seriously. Wyverns are cool and all, but until they decide they can trust you, they don’t take any crap from anyone. If you do a good job with him, who knows, maybe next Winter’s Veil there might be a stray wyvern cub flapping around needing a home. Who knows?
That’s it for today. Tomorrow I’ll have a more newsy post up, since I know a lot of you are just waiting with bated breath to hear what my brilliant idea is about the Twilights.
Monday mailbag
Remind me not to do the Greatfather Winter thing for the orphanage again. First of all, nobody tells you how damn uncomfortable that getup is. Seriously, would it have killed them to find some material to make it from that DIDN’T feel like sandpaper? And meanwhile…okay, some of the kids were fine. A lot of them are pretty cute, and I suppose I should be generous what with it being the holidays, and their being orphans, and the fact that a pretty good chunk of them even got to be orphans in the first place because of battles I sent their parents off to fight in, but still! OMG the SCREAMING from some of these brats! On and on and on with the screaming and the screeching, and there were two of them who really took the cake, I don’t think they ever stopped going the whole time, till eventually I started calling them Dontrag and Utvoch Jrs. in my head.
Anyway, that’s done, so hopefully it will get Eitrigg off my back about his community service kick for a while.
Now for the mail. Just one letter this time, but it’s a doozy.
To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:
I wish to congratulate you on behalf of everyone at D.E.H.T.A. on your recent embrace of a healthier – and far more ethical – lifestyle. I admit, I had nearly given you up as a lost cause, so imagine my surprise and delight upon being informed that you have seen the error of your ways and publicly committed to eliminating meat from your diet! We at D.E.H.T.A. are all very proud of you.
To show our support of your decision, we have compiled a care package (which you shall find on the kodo caravan accompanying this letter). It’s nothing too extravagant, just a selection of delicious fruits, vegetables, nuts and legumes from every region in Azeroth, a sampler of 25 different types of tofu, as well as several cases of exotic spices. To further assist you I have also enclosed a complimentary autographed copy of my (now sadly out of print) cookbook Sustenance Without Suffering – 519 Delectable Vegan Recipes Guaranteed to Tickle Your Tongue While Soothing Your Conscience, as well as my (likewise out of print) companion guide From the Field to Your Face – The Complete Buyer’s Guide to Azerothian Agriculture Including Detailed Information About What to Buy, When to Buy it, and From Whom. (Unfortunately I haven’t had a chance to update the second book post-Cataclysm, so be careful about ordering produce from non-existent locations.)
In addition, we would like to grudgingly commend you for your various initiatives to improve the lot of the poor enslaved Wyvern taxis in your service. Although true emancipation remains elusive, (and we will never be satisfied until it has been attained!), we have noticed that working conditions are better and rest breaks are more frequent. Most notably, Mortimer appears content to remain in your service and assures us that your treatment of him has vastly improved. (We remain skeptical on this point, but there is no arguing with him. Seriously. His claws are sharp!)
Finally, I would like to personally extend a metaphorical olive branch and issue an invitation for you to join D.E.H.T.A. for brunch in the Borean Tundra at your convenience. We have many other agenda items regarding the care of Azeroth’s most vulnerable citizens (the animals) which we would like to discuss with you. Also, certain rare edible lichens are just coming into season, but sadly they do not ship very well and we could not include them in your care package. I promise it will be a taste experience you will not soon forget.
Sincerely,
–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.
Hoo boy.
Okay, so first of all, let me tell you, when he says he’s sending a “care package” of fruits and vegetables and shit, he’s totally downplaying the fucking VOLUME of stuff. Notice how he slipped in that little mention of a kodo caravan in parentheses there, like it was just a side note? Yeah. You would not BELIEVE the size of this fucking caravan. They started marching on into Orgrimmar, and by the time the chain of them had gotten from the front gate up to Grommash Hold, and started circling around, they weren’t even halfway done. Eventually while I was watching them come in, I started looking around in the sky for fucking Nozdormu, because I thought there HAD to be some kind of time-loop gag going on. I swear, the last two kodos in the line probably met for the first time when they were first setting up the caravan, and in the time it took all of them to march into town, those last two kodos got married, had two kids, raised them, sent them to college, welcomed them back, and hooked them up in the family business of carrying fucking arugula to Garrosh, before retiring and wandering off to find the Kodo Graveyard. THAT FUCKING BIG OF A CARAVAN.
I seriously don’t know what I’m going to do with all this shit. I’m looking around the war room right now and it looks like a fucking farmer’s market. The only good thing to come out of this is that now, FINALLY, I have something new to keep Marogg busy with. I’m having him come in and just go to town, and with any luck he’ll be able to crank out a bunch of new recipes to put on sale, so maybe those Orgrimmar cooking awards might finally be worth something again. (And I’m going to be WATCHING your ass this time, stupid meddling recipe-stealing tree!)
Of course, none of this even TOUCHES the fact that Lather-on-us has some really…um…iffy reading skills. If you look back at the mailbag he’s apparently referring to, the letter from Jaina…um…yeah. Dude needs to train up [Sarcasm Detection], because…
Hold on. You know what, forget it. I’m not going to straighten him out. If he thinks I’ve gone all granola-crunchy, maybe he’ll be a little less of a headache. No more of the stupid protests and letter-writing campaigns (by the by, when he gets on one of those, let me tell you, that’s a whole OTHER kodo caravan delivering all the other latters…although it’s also kind of sad when you actually look at the letters and it only really looks like there are like four different people’s handwriting, so…). So yeah. Let me just let the baby have his bottle, maybe go up to Northrend some weekend and choke down a salad, and make my life a little easier, at least until he figures out what a fucking idiot he is.
So, one last mail-related note before we finish up here. A couple weeks ago I mentioned in a post about Magatha Grimtotem that I had once written to her and explained part of the reason I was (still am) so enraged over her meddling with my duel with Cairne. I’ve gotten a couple passing inquiries about that, so I thought people might want a peek at what I’d said. This was the letter I sent her shortly after the duel – she and her Grimtotem stooges were trying to stage a takeover in Thunder Bluff, and for some asinine reason she actually thought I would be GRATEFUL to her for robbing me of my honor, and wrote to me asking for help against Baine’s forces. And so:
Unto Elder Crone Magatha of the Grimtotem,
Acting Warchief of the Horde, Garrosh Hellscream,
Sends his most sincere wishes for a slow and painful death.It has come to my attention that you have deprived me of a rightful kill. Cairne Bloodhoof was a hero to the Horde and an honorable member of a usually honorable race. It is with disgust and anger that I discover you have caused me to bring about his death through accidental treachery.
Such tactics may work well for your renegade, honorless tribe and Alliance scum, but I despise them. It was my wish to fight Cairne fairly, and win or lose by my own skill or lack of it. Now I shall never know, and the cry of traitor will dog my steps until such time as I can sport your head on a pike and point to you as the real traitor.
So…no. I will not be sending any truehearted orcs to fight alongside your treacherous, belly-crawling tribe. Your victory or your defeat is in the hands of your Earth Mother now. Either way, I look forward to hearing of your demise.
You are on your own, Magatha, as friendless and disliked as you have ever been. Perhaps more. Enjoy your loneliness.
So there you have it.
Anyway, we’ll be getting back to business this week. Mokvar’s got the transcript from Skarr’s interrogation written up, so I’ll be posting that for you all tomorrow, and we’ll have plenty to do this week in the aftermath.
Meanwhile, Mortimer’s still nursing a few injuries from his fight with the Razza last week, so he’s resting upstairs in his pen, and if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go heat up some soup for the furball. More soon.
Mortimer vs. the Razza
Since I kind of promised to fill in the details yesterday of Mortimer’s role in my showdown with Skarr, I figured I’d take a minute today to do that. And considering what a kickass job Mortimer did of it, too, I figure there’s only one appropriate form…
Skarr went off to Feralas on a mission for the cult,
With the hope an ogre relic could raise Cho’gall as result,
And he made his camp in secret while his agents ranged afield,
And he waited there to reap the gains their search would surely yield.
His mission was a secret, details shared with precious few;
Even where he’d made his base was known by only one or two.
So when they went to see him, hardly had they neared his lair
When their path was intercepted by the Razza in the air.
Its wingspan was enormous, dozen yards across at least,
And one hardly could imagine how Skarr’d tamed the vicious beast;
But he somehow bent its will to his, this hunter sans compare,
And the Lower Wilds were now watched by the Razza from the air.
He’d lived there long amid the Wilds and Dire Maul and therein,
And his terror was the stuff of tales told by the Woodpaw kin,
For when the primitives would hunt, they’d fear not wolf or bear,
But they’d tread in dread that they might see the Razza in the air.
So now when Skarr set up his camp, he’d have the Razza spy
Down upon all those who dared come near from vantage of the sky;
And any who approached the camp was spotted unaware,
Then swoop and clutch, away were swept by Razza in the air.
And so when Garrosh found him and descended from the cliff,
Skarr engaged the orc in battle with an air of “Yeah, as if.”
For he knew he needed only hold his ground and keep it close,
Till the Razza could arrive, and then it would be adios.
Skarr held his own as best he could, and scored a hit or two,
When in the skies his eyes did spy vast wings of white and blue;
And Garrosh knew the day was his, until to his chagrin
He found a wild chimaera clawing wildly at his skin.
The Razza swooped in close to strike, and spewed blue fiery breath,
And let aloose a fiendish shriek from both its beastly heads.
And Garrosh felt the blue flames as he took another hit,
And they didn’t hurt, but it was hard to see through all that shit.
Now Skarr attacked reenergized and pressed the battle on,
And Garrosh ceded ground while he kept being flamed upon.
When suddenly there came a growl—Skarr scarcely realized where—
As wyvern talons tore into the Razza in the air.
Blue wings were met with brown as they raced in as if a blur,
And Garrosh yelled victoriously, “Go get ’im, Mortimer!”
He didn’t need to tell him twice: of wyvern wrath beware!
And Mortimer let loose upon the Razza in the air.
His biting was a frenzy and his slashing claws were fluid,
For “The Razza” say the Woodpaw, but “Mortimer” quoth the druid;
Another slash with furious claws, another vicious tear;
And blood was on the ground beneath the Razza in the air.
A blue-white wing was torn to shreds, a horn shattered like glass;
The Razza wailed as Mortimer was handing him his ass.
He yanked him back and clawed him deep, and clutched him from behind
And clawed at one of his two heads till it was rendered blind.
The desperate Razza spun around and flung Mortimer wide,
The wyvern crashing awkwardly into the mountainside;
He sprawled in pain on aching back, his upper hand upstaged,
And the Razza saw its final chance, and dove in feral rage.
The chimaera shrieked murd’rously and fell upon its prey,
While Mortimer grasped panicked for the one that got away.
A slashing, tearing pair of claws, and fangs fresh-drenched with blood,
Then a horrifying wail, followed by a lifeless thud.
Now somewhere in Feralas, Twilight cultists gloat and preen,
While the Grimtotem and ogres share the tales of what they’ve seen.
But the hunter is the hunted, predator is prey instead,
And there is no joy for Skarr, son, ’cause the Razza’s fucking dead.
EPIC VERSE!
Better luck next time, irony
Okay, so maybe backup isn’t such a bad idea. That was big ol’ pain in the ass.
So I climbed down the mountain a ways and watched the gnoll camp for more signs of Skarr. At this point he was pretty visible, so I climbed down a little more, jumped off from a ledge, and then pulled one of my favorite moves EVAR – the cannonball mid-air falling CHARGE! Jump, falling, whoosh, WHAM right up in your face, and stunned to boot (probably in more ways than one)! Only pro warriors need apply.
And so, I don’t know why this would surprise me, but turns out, yeah, Skarr is about as batshit crazy as all the other Twilight people we’ve come across. As in, FUCKING COMPLETELY. The whole time I was fighting him he kept ranting and raving, and referring to himself in the third person – “Skarr” this, “Skarr” that – and so yeah, that settled the question of whether this was the right ogre, in case there ever was one. (And okay, let’s be fair, I guess it’s POSSIBLE he might not have been, and hoo boy, if it turned out he wasn’t, and I had charged and slammed him anyway, would my face have been red.) (No, wait, it wouldn’t. EXCEPT FROM THE BLOOD.) Anyway, he kept yammering on while we got to fighting, word salad half the time. We hacked away at each other, and he was hanging in there but really not posing much of a threat, when who should show up but the damn giant chimaera again. Swooped on in and starting breathing this freakish blue fire at me. Which really only sort of tickled a little, but it was annoying as hell.
Thing is, though, even that didn’t last too long. Because, you see, as it happens, Skarr wasn’t the only one with friends flying around the area, and, well, let me just put it this way:
Wyvern > Chimaera.
(Seriously, you should have seen Mortimer go to town on that thing. As a matter of fact, remind me to go into more detail about it later. You’ll thank me.)
So, it was back to me and Skarr, which being as it was a one-on-one fight now, really kind of left the fucking ogre outnumbered basically. I had him backed up to one of the ratty tents and was pretty obviously wearing him down, and at that point it was just a question of how to beat him without actually killing him, when all of a sudden I started feeling kind of weak in the legs. I stumbled a little, got my balance back, then went back to swinging at him…only my arms were feeling weaker now too. I damn near missed a parry on that huge fucking axe of his – and I NEVER have close calls like that. A couple more inches and he would have gotten my head. As I was pushing his axe back again – taking more effort that I should have needed, mind you – it hit me: the blade was poisoned. He hadn’t gotten a good hit on me the whole fight, but there had been a few glancing blows, just minor cuts really…but that would have been enough for the poison to take hold.
I took a second to reset my footing again, and you could tell he’d noticed I was off my game now, and he started pressing back more, and pushing me toward the hillside. I was still holding my own at this point, but it was taking more and more effort, and I could feel the poison kicking in and weakening me more. And I have to admit, as much as I know you have to stay focused in combat, I couldn’t help thinking how familiar it was.
So this is what it’s like to be on the other end of it.
Maybe I’ve had this coming. Maybe this is what balances the scales.
And right when I’m about ready to come out on the losing end of this one, cause of death: poetic justice, Skarr suddenly seizes up, locked in place with his head jerking up, then a second later splats down onto the ground unconscious, with Garona standing there behind him looking all proud of herself. Rogues and their sap-stun-kidney-shot-gouge-cheap-shot bullshit. Well, hey, I fucking wore him down for her first, so, you know.
We’ve just finished carrying him back to Stonemaul Hold. (And thank the spirits for that camel – that ogre was one HEAVY motherfucker.) We’ve got him detained in the main cave there, and we’ll be questioning him as soon as he comes to, and the camp apothecary hooks me up with a poultice to take care of the damn poison. Based on the word salad he was spouting out before, this should be interesting.
