Tag Archives: zinge
Monday mailbag
It’s been a while since the last mailbag, so while I’ve got a break in the action, let’s see what’s piled up the last few weeks…
Since Faranell has effectively retired from the Royal Apothecary Society, I’m wondering if Sylvanas is taking applications for a new Master Apothecary? I’m a veteran alchemist who’s been at the craft for several years. I even worked out a formula to turn myself into a dragon – rar! Any chance you could put in a good word for me?
–Karelien, Silvermoon City
Sorry to tell you, Karelien, the master apothecary job is already filled. Once it got decided that Faranell was being moved over to Hearthglen, Sylvanas went ahead and did a promotion from within, and appointed Apothecary Zinge to take over as head of the RAS. If you want, I could maybe see about getting you into some kind of entry-level position over there. Not what you were shooting for, I know, but you have to start somewhere. I get the sense that Sylvanas doesn’t do a lot of hiring from the outside, so if you want to have any shot at all at the higher positions, you probably need to already be on the ladder.
If you do land a job over there, by the way, could I maybe ask you to keep an eye on Overseer Kraggosh, and just try to discourage him from packing away so many cheesy steak melts? I’m all for steak, but I swear the Undercity’s got rivers of viscous slime that have a smoother flow to them than that dude’s arteries.
Do you know where Mankrik’s wife be at?
–Bob, Echo Isles
Oh, geez, this guy again.
I already addressed this one like a zillion times last year, when I was making an inspection stop in the Barrens. Where – just to recap – somebody was asking about Mankrik’s wife like every five minutes. Over and over. Fuck, people are annoying.
Here’s where the joke’s on you, though, Bobby-Boy. Back THEN, I might have taken the bait and started ranting at you about his wife having a memorial and all that shit. NOW, though, you ask me where Mankrik’s wife is, and you know what? You’re gonna have to specify WHICH ONE. That’s right, over the last year or so, our boy Mankrik has managed to calm down a little (and holy shit did he need it), courtesy of a whole bunch of consoling and support from this Earthen Ring shaman named Mahka. The two of them wound up growing pretty close, and a few months ago, they decided to make it official and held a quiet life-mate ceremony in Mulgore. If you’re wondering why you didn’t hear about this, well, let’s face it, Thrall’s wedding pretty much pushed everybody else’s deal to the back pages. Self-Important Green Savior Finally Gets Some, stop the presses. Whatever.
Oh, and for the record, the first Mrs. Mankrik? Still dead. Let’s hope things stay that way (you never know about that shit these days), or things might get kind of awkward.
So, crossbow to your head, what do you think – Mylune or Garona? You know what I’m askin.
–Backstab Bladeflurry
Okay, so before I answer your question, Backstab, I have to ask. That’s your name? Seriously? Backstab Bladeflurry? I mean, I KNOW that can’t be your ACTUAL name, because I don’t think ANYONE could hate their kid that much. But you know, the thought that you made up a name for yourself, and that’s the one you came up with…that might actually be even sadder. Seriously, dude, how old are you? Because that sounds like the kind of name you would get if you let a 10-year-old name himself, assuming “Videogame K. Dinosaur” was already taken.
Also, I’m guessing you’re…what…a rogue? Gonna stick my neck WAY out there. Come on, man, if you’re going to make up a name for yourself, it’s bad enough you’re making it a stupid-sounding name. But a stupid-sounding name that’s just a list or your class abilities? Come on. Do you think people would take me seriously if I went around introducing myself as Overpower Heroicstrike? Or maybe Saurfang could start calling himself Cleave McCleaveyouagain? (To be fair, he might possibly be able to carry that off.) Or, hey, Liadrin is a paladin, maybe she should start calling herself Holy Divine Light Shield Shock Hammer Flash Righteous Hand. Really, the only time that kind of a name even kind of worked was with Rend Blackhand, and look how great things wound up going for him.
Anyway, I just had to get that out of my system. Now for your question.
No.
I’m writing to ask if you have any idea why people keep trying to kill me. I’m generally a fairly peaceful fellow, but random strangers keep coming into the inn where I’m just trying to have a drink and attacking me. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re not leaving me any choice but to defend myself. But I don’t understand why they keep doing it.
–Gamon, Orgrimmar
Yeah, Gamon, I’ve heard the ruckus over there a few times, what with you having to lay the smackdown on some noobs every once in a while. Gotta be honest, this one has me stumped. I can’t think of any reason people might have for coming after you, you’ve always seemed like a pretty good dude to me. Maybe… I know it’s kind of the pat to-go answer for people going all violent and hostile, but I don’t know, like…the Old Gods? Maybe? Dunno.
Good luck not dying, though.
I am writing to you on behalf of His Lordship, the honorable Tirion Fordring. In the interests of saving time and paper, I have volunteered to write this note to you in the Highlord’s stead.
The Highlord appreciates the faith you demonstrated in entrusting him with the supervision of Dr. Edwin Faranell. In that same spirit of good faith, the Highlord wishes to make you aware of certain oddities that have recently occurred involving the doctor.
The good doctor has generally been adjusting well to his new life here in Hearthglen, but the past several days he has experienced momentary bouts of disorientation, in which he has become briefly confused as to what is going on around him. Following these episodes, he has claimed to have experienced what would seem to be a kind of hallucination: seeing and hearing events transpiring around him that clearly did not occur.
The Highlord suspects that the doctor is suffering from some sort of mental distress as a result of the radical change his life has undertaken. Lord Fordring is quite concerned about Dr. Faranell’s well-being, and would welcome the opportunity to discuss this turn of events with you further. We have faith that we may yet guide the doctor to a successful acclimation to his current time and place.
–Daria L’Rayne, Argent Crusade
Oh crap, here we go. I’d hoped that Faranell would be able to settle in without any problems, but I guess that was wishful thinking. I can’t say I’m really surprised that he’s kind of shellshocked by the whole thing – I mean, if YOU woke up one morning and all of a sudden it was years later, and half the people you used to know were dead, and the other half were zombies, and whole dominions had risen and fallen, and spirits know how many other things had gone down, yeah, you’d probably have a hard time just walking that off, too. I know I would probably shit a brick.
So, I guess I’m going to need to take a trip over to Eastern Kingdoms again to go see Tirion. I wonder if there’s any way I could get this Daria chick to hold the info session rather than Tirion, though – she seems like she would probably be a lot less painful to talk to, not least of all because I’m pretty sure this letter would have filled up about 37 pages minimum if it were Tirion writing it. Damn good thing he’s got a logging camp right nearby, considering all the paper he probably goes through, is all I’m gonna say.
So, yeah, I’ll have to see about getting that trip lined up. That said, though, seriously, I was just OVER in Eastern Kingdoms like two days ago. Would it really KILL people to time these crises so that I don’t have to go zig-zagging all over the map? So fucking inconsiderate.
That’s all for this week. I’m going to try to be a little more consistent about posting mailbags, so keep those letters and questions coming – first because it’s always good to hear from my loyal readers and minions, second because I’m always happy (well, usually happy…well, sometimes happy…okay, okay, occasionally it doesn’t totally piss me off) to answer your questions, and third because YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS IT. Send those letters to me at garrosh1337@gmail.com, and I’ll do another roundup in a couple weeks.
I see undead people
Faranell regained consciousness this morning.
That’s where the good news ended.
Apothecary Zinge – one of Faranell’s colleagues down at the Apothecarium – was trying some sort of salve that they thought might help him recover. Liadrin tells me all the Undercity apothecaries have been taking turns going up to Brill to tend to him, even beyond the rotation Sylvanas had set up to have him monitored. I suppose for all their shortcomings, you have to give it to the Forsaken for looking out for their own. Anyway, either the salve worked, or whatever was wrong with Faranell finally ran its course, because while Zinge was there, he came around.
And looked around.
And started screaming in terror.
Zinge tried to calm him down, and so did Nurse Neela and Dark Cleric Beryl, but he wouldn’t hear any of it. It was only when Liadrin came in that they were able to calm him down at all, and even then only after the others left him and Liadrin alone. He kept asking where he was, and no matter how many times she told him he was in Brill, his only response was that it couldn’t be.
Eventually, Liadrin got him calmed down enough to talk a little. She says she tried to be fairly selective about what she said to him, but from what she can gather…he doesn’t remember anything. At least, nothing about the here and now. Nothing about our mission in old Hillsbrad. Nothing about the anti-plague or the plague or even the Scourge. To listen to him, Brill is still part of the human kingdom of Lordaeron, and every attempt Liadrin made to gently reference anything that’s happened in the last several years has drawn nothing but blank looks.
Which is to say…the last thing he DOES seem to remember is being in Southshore with his brother. And that leaves us with two possibilities, neither of them good.
The first is that there’s something seriously, profoundly wrong with Faranell’s memory. Nozdormu said there was something going wonky with time somewhere around the point we were in Southshore, and Faranell WAS having some pretty conspicuous issues with forgetting things while we were there, despite him saying he’d always had some sort of super-memory. It’s not that great a stretch to think something went wrong in his head, maybe from coming too close to crossing his own timeline, maybe from something involving the holy-magic-splodey mojo. Maybe something else. I don’t know.
You’ve probably already done the math on what the other possibility is. And as much as I don’t relish the thought of one of our sharper people maybe taking a mind-wipe, I honestly think I might prefer that to option number two. Because if that’s the case…hoo boy. And you know what? I don’t even want to talk about that possibility. Not yet. Not until I can start wrapping my head around what the hell we’re going to do in that case.
Before I start in on that, though, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink. Or ten.
Also: FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.
[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks. Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]
The Apothecarium
While Drok was making his way down to Southshore, Mokvar, Nazgrim, and I got the grand tour of the Apothecarium from Sylvanas and Faranell. Overseer Kraggosh was there as well, finishing up his lunch break. Basically a working lunch where he just camped out on one of the work benches, since he couldn’t really spare any extra people to stand watch in his absence, what with everything going on. Gotta say, watching him munch away left me kind of boggled, because first of all, as bad as the Undercity smells in general, the APOTHECARIUM? Where they keep all the extra toxic chemicals and plaguey shit? Rancid stench squared. So how he could possibly choke food down and keep it down is beyond me. And second of all? His lunch of choice? Steak melt with three kinds of cheese and extra bacon. Kraggosh, Kraggosh, you seriously don’t want to live to see your daughter start school, do you? Come on, man.
The apothecaries looked to be carrying on their research as usual in the main chamber, but they’d set up a side room – the one they usually used to hold, ahem, Alliance test volunteers – as an area to work on bodies that had been affected by the anti-plague. Some mages were channeling a containment field to make sure nothing spread out of the room, and Dr. Halsey and Apothecary Zinge from the Royal Apothecary Society were inside decked out in those weird full-body gas mask hazard suits the Forsaken have.
Further updates from Faranell’s research: Whatever this thing is, it only seems to have any effect on undead. They ran tests exposing some of the Alliance prisoners to it, and it doesn’t seem to do anything to humans, dwarves, or even worgen. Just registered a big ol’ nothing. What’s more, even though the effect spreads very easily if other Forsaken get close to an affected body, every test they’ve run here indicates it’s not chemical or biological in nature. So even though we’ve been talking about it being “contagious,” that’s not really accurate. Hell, on that basis, I probably shouldn’t keep calling it an “anti-plague,” seeing as it’s not really a plague at all, except that you pretty much don’t get any more “ANTI” anything than not being that thing at all, so I guess as it turns out, the “anti-plague” name is pretty damn accurate, so take THAT and FUCK OFF, smart guy. Plus “anti-plague” sounds a lot cooler than “that weird shit what’s happening to the zombies.”
Anyway, though, it’s not biological or chemical in nature – it’s some kind of self-propagating magical effect. So we’ve also gotten a few warlocks down here to help with the research as well – orcs and blood elves, since we don’t have to worry about them being exposed. Best they can tell, it’s a strange balance of shadow and holy magic, held in some kind of…I don’t know…something about a matrix and counterbalances and some fucking…polarity of the neutron flow or some shit. Point is, it seems to have reacted to the traces of shadow magic that woven into the Forsaken plague – the part of the plague that makes its victims rise as undead afterward – and generated this effect that causes that same shadow magic to be purged off anything it hits. So the necrotic effects that make undead undead get dispelled right off. Which is way beyond anything even a top-flight priest or paladin could do.
Whatever it is, exactly, it all got started when Sylvanas’ people were working on their green goop down in Southshore, so I’m thinking if we’re going to get any answers, it’s time for a bunch of us still-living peeps to take a trip down there.
