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The Wizard of Zhan, Act 3

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 1, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The curtain rises on the exterior of Karazhan.  Garrosh et al approach the front gate.

GARROSH:  Okay, so this is the place…

FARANELL:  Weren’t we just here not too long ago?

Garrosh knocks on the door.  A window on the door slides open, and Berhold the doorman sticks his head out.

BERTHOLD:  Who goes there?  What business do you have at the master’s Dark Tower?

GARROSH:  We’ve come to see the Wizard.

DONTRAG:  The guardian Wizard of Zhan!

UTVOCH:  We hear he’s sage—

Garrosh smacks Utvoch.

GARROSH:  Now don’t you get started with that shit again!

BERTHOLD:  The Wizard?  You can’t see the Wizard!  No one sees the Wizard!

GARONA:  Here’s where I grease the wheels…  You remember me, don’t you, Berthold?

BERTHOLD:  <leans out a bit more, squinting>  Hmm, well…oh…oh goodness…lady Garona?  Is it really you?

GARONA:  It’s good to see you again, Berthold.  Could you please go in and tell the Wizard it’s me?

BERTHOLD:  Well, um, of course, m’lady.  I’ll just be a moment.

Berthold disappears inside and the window closes.

GARONA:  <grinning smugly>  See?  Now we just wait a minute or two, and then they’ll roll out the welcome mat.

GARROSH:  How do you know this guy, anyway?

GARONA:  I guess you could say we had sort of a thing back in the day.

GARROSH:  Suddenly this Wizard’s judgment is seeming a little suspect.

GARONA:  What’s that supposed to mean?

Just in front of the door, a heavy portcullis suddenly comes crashing down.

FARANELL:  Um, unless welcome mats have been radically redesigned lately…

GARONA:  Hang on.

Garona raps on the door angrily.  The window opens and Berthold looks out again.

BERTHOLD:  Yes?

GARONA:  Didn’t you tell him it was me?

BERTHOLD:  Yes!

Berthold slams the window shut.

GARONA:  Well I…I…

GARROSH:  Okay, so I stand corrected on this Wizard guy.

MOKVAR:  Well now we have a minor problem about getting in to see him.

GARROSH:  Anyone else have any bright ideas?

FARANELL:  Garrosh, let me see that Focusing Iris?

GARROSH:  You’re not going to try to blow up the gate and get us all killed or something, are you?

FARANELL:  Not all of us.

MOKVAR:  Reassuring.

FARANELL:  But really, let me see it.  I think I know how to appeal to him.

GARROSH:  <handing the Focusing Iris to Faranell>  You think you can get us in, run with it, man.

Faranell knocks on the door; the window opens, and Berthold looks out.

BERTHOLD:  Are you all still here?

FARANELL:  Yeah, so listen—

BERTHOLD:  Good heavens, what happened to you?  You look like death warmed over!

FARANELL:  Yeah, yeah, I’m undead.  So anyway—

BERTHOLD:  Undead?  That must be a horrible fate.

FARANELL:  Yeah, well, take a good long look at the future, smart guy.  Are you done interrupting me now?  Yeah?  Good.  So, check this out.  I know your boss isn’t in much of a hurry to be reunited with little miss sunshine over here, but I think he’d be very interested in getting a peek at this.

Faranell holds up the Focusing Iris.

You go on back inside and tell him that the bearer of the Focusing Iris is here, and might be persuaded to let him check out the number one item on every magic user’s Winter’s Veil list, okay?

BERTHOLD:  Huh…if you say so, sir…

Berthold disappears inside.

MOKVAR:  You think he’s going to go for it?

FARANELL:  Trust me, I know how to appeal to another mage.

GARROSH:  Let’s hope.

Accompanied by the sound of rattling chains, the portcullis rises back up, and the door swings open.

FARANELL:  And there we go.

GARROSH:  Nice job, Doc.  Now we’re in business.  Let’s go finish this…

The group walks through the gate.

Blackout.  Garrosh and the others enter a large chamber filled with relics, vials, and other magic paraphernalia.  Tapestries and ornate curtains decorate those portions of the walls not covered with tall bookshelves.

GARROSH:  Huh…  Well this looks like the kind of place a wizard would hang out, but where is he?

A booming voice echoes through the room.

VOICE:  You have come to seek an audience with the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan?

GARONA:  Oh boy, here he goes.

GARROSH:  <looking around>  Uh, yeah, we do, if he can bother dragging his butt out here so we can actually see him.

VOICE:  You dare presume to speak to the great Wizard with such familiarity, mortal?  You shall count yourself fortunate that the Wizard does not smite you where you stand!

UTVOCH:  Wait, he’s a priest?  I thought he was a mage.

MOKVAR:  Is he always like this?

GARONA:  Oh you have no idea.  All the time with the talking about himself in the third person.

In the middle of the room, a towering, semi-transparent avatar of Medivh appears.

MEDIVH:  The Wizard of Zhan has been informed that one among you carries the storied Focusing Iris!  It is for this reason alone that you have been permitted into this sanctified chamber!

GARONA:  Oh, and there he is, finally.  And thank you, dear, for that very warm welcome.

MEDIVH:  <looks at Garona>  Oh.  Delightful.

GARONA:  Oh, really?  You want to know what else is delightful?  Being a single mom trying to give her son a good life when the kid’s high-and-mighty richer-than-Aman’thul dad for some reason can’t be bothered to mail off a child support payment!

MEDIVH:  The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan does not have time to trifle with these petty—

GARONA:  Oh, sure, when it’s something I want to talk about…

GARROSH:  So listen, Your Wizardry, we have the Focusing Iris—

MEDIVH:  Indeed, hence you are here in my chamber, and not cast out to the ogres!  I will be most interested to examine the relic, and—

GARROSH:  Yeah, well, here’s the thing, chief – before we let you go poking around with the shiny, we have a few things of our own that we could use a hand with.

MEDIVH:  You dare dictate terms to the great and mighty Wizard!

GARONA:  Oh man, he’s really in form today…

FARANELL:  If you’d rather not be bothered we can just be along our way.

MEDIVH:  <chuckles>  You mortals have daring, I’ll grant you that much.

Medivh looks around the group, eyeing them carefully.

I will hear your requests.

GARONA:  Hold the presses, he just called himself “I.”

MEDIVHAnd you would do well to still her tongue.

GARROSH:  Been working on that for months, chief.  No luck so far.

MEDIVH:  At any rate – present your entreaties, but remember the Wizard makes no promises.

GARROSH:  We each have something we’re after, Wiz.  In my case, I’m trying to find a way to summon Prince Malchezaar down from the Netherspace, so I can put him in the ground before the Burning Legion can pull him out of mothballs to stir up trouble for my people.

MEDIVH:  Ah, yes, the irksome demon who’s tucked himself away in the upper levels.  You intrigue me, mortal; I must say it would be no small pleasure to have that particular infestation removed from this place…

GARROSH:  Okay, so far so good.  Meanwhile…well…the rest of the requests are a little more personalized.

DONTRAG:  Shall we present our case to the great and metallurgical Wizard, sir, and—

GARROSH:  <smacking Dontrag>  For spirits’ sake, no.

MOKVAR:  Dontrag and Utvoch here would like some brains.

UTVOCH:  Indeed, sir!

DONTRAG:  <rubbing his head>  So as not to have our current ones beaten out quite so often, sir.

GARROSH:  And for real, anything you could do on that count, I mean, I can’t possibly overstate how much of a quality of life improvement that could be for everyone involved.

MOKVAR:  As for the rest of us… A heart for me.

GARROSH:  Because apparently he’s still moping over his ex-wife or something.

GARONA:  Could you be any more insensitive?

FARANELL:  And some guts for me.

UTVOCH:  I still don’t really think you need—

MEDIVHEnough of your insipid prattling, insects!

GARROSH:  Yelling doesn’t do much good with this crowd, Wiz.  Don’t think I haven’t tried.

MEDIVH:  The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan has heard your requests, and in light of the possibility of studying the Focusing Iris, has deemed them acceptable.

GARROSH:  Awesome, Wiz.

FARANELL:  See, I told you the Iris was our ticket in.

MOKVAR:  So is there a spell or an incantation you have to do on us, or…?

MEDIVHSilence, mortals!  I have not yet finished!  I will grant your requests, but first I require you to perform a task on my behalf!

MOKVAR:  Uh oh.

DONTRAG:  I knew there was going to be a catch…

MOKVAR:  We’re going to have to kill something, aren’t we?

GARROSH:  So hang on, when you say we have to do a task for you, is this a for real task, or one of those busywork kind of tasks, because you’re talking to an old pro at doling out those…

FARANELL:  Personally I think the whole getting-to-work-on-the-Iris thing should be enough of a trade-off on our part, but…

MEDIVHBleat at me no longer, fools!

MOKVAR:  …Ouch.

FARANELL:  That was kind of a good one, actually.

MEDIVH:  Before the mighty and magnanimous Wizard grants your request, he demands that you return to him another magic relic of great power: you are to slay the Wicked Witch of the West, and recover from her the Doomstone.

GARROSH:  Hang on, the Wicked Witch of the West?  That’s Magatha, isn’t it?

GARONA:  Yeah.

GARROSH:  So we get what we came for, AND I get to kill Magatha?

FARANELL:  Didn’t you already kill her in the other timeline?

GARROSH:  Trust me, dude, it never gets old.

MEDIVH:  You shall venture to the odious lair of the Wicked Witch, where you shall slay her and return with the powerful Doomstone.  You must not shy away from this task, for if you fail to carry out this duty—

GARROSH:  Dude, it’s cool, done and done.

MEDIVH:  Excellent!  Be warned, however, the lair of the Wicked Witch of the West shall not be breached easily.  It lies in the Mountains of Twilight, in the dread Bastion of the Dying Day.  The journey shall be long and arduous, and you will find many trials between here and—

FARANELL:  <holding up the Focusing Iris and channeling a spell>  Yeah, stoke that noise.  Portal to BoT coming up!

Faranell completes the spell and teleports the group away, other than Garona.

MEDIVH:  <sighs>  Mortals.

Blackout.  In an inner chamber of the Bastion of Twilight, Magatha peers into an Eye of Twilight.  Beside her hunches Zhi-Zhi, dressed in armor and sporting bat-like wings on his back; around the room similar winged monkey creatures scurry.

MAGATHA:  The visions have grown cloudy…they may have reached Karazhan, but no matter – soon enough we’ll find them, and the Focusing Iris will be—

In a flash of light, Garrosh et all appear in the middle of the room.  The group appears briefly disoriented as they look around.

FARANELL:  Okay, here we are!

MOKVAR:  <looking around>  Are…are those flying monkeys?

MAGATHA:  Well then!  All the better!  No need to go out hunting for them – the fools have delivered themselves right into my very lair!

ZHI-ZHI:  Now!  Now we get them, your Witchy-wooken-ness ma’am!  Hozen do good and get the dookin’—

MAGATHA:  <smacking Zhi-Zhi>  Shut up, you insipid preliterate orang utan!  Get them!

ZHI-ZHIAhhh!  Stop hitting Zhi-Zhi!

DONTRAG:  I know the feeling, ape guy…

ZHI-ZHI:  Get them!  Get them!

More monkeys swarm into the room and start running to surround Garrosh’s group, which backs up toward stage right.  Magatha runs back and forth in the background, overlooking the scene.  Arikara flies in and swoops back and forth above them.

GARROSH:  That’s…a whole lot of monkeys.

FARANELL:  Plus that wind serpent…

Mortimer leaps into the air and barrels into Arikara with a snarl, knocking them both offstage to the left.

GARROSH:  Yeah, I’m not so worried about the wind serpent.

The monkeys descend in bunches, attacking the group.

The chimp brigade, on the other hand…

The Horde group starts to fight off the monkeys; they cut the monkeys down easily enough, but by sheer force of numbers, Magatha’s attackers push Garrosh et al further back.

Magatha descends and begins shooting chain lightning.

MAGATHA:  Hahaha!  You fools made my work that much easier!  Now the Focusing Iris will be mine, and—

Faranell runs up to Magatha and splashes her from a bucket.

AAAHH!!  I’m melting!  I’m melting!  AAAAHHH!!!

Screaming all the way, Magatha melts into a sizzling brown puddle on the floor.

GARROSH:  Um, hang on a second.  She melted?  Fucking WATER killed her?

FARANELL:  No.  That wasn’t water.

MOKVAR:  What was it, then?

FARANELL:  Acidic plague.

GARROSH:  You walk around with a bucket of acidic plague?

FARANELL:  Do you not know what I do for a living?

ZHI-ZHI:  The Wicked Witch – she’s dead!  You killed her!

MOKVAR:  Uh oh.  Bracing for pissed-off monkeys.

ZHI-ZHI:  She’s dead!  She’s dead!  Hozen are free!  Free of the Witch!

Zhi-Zhi starts jumping up and down jubilantly, with the other monkeys following his lead in short order.  Mortimer wanders in and sits, munching on a wind serpent wing.

DONTRAG:  I guess this is good?

MOKVAR:  As long as they don’t start fliging poop around, I think we’re okay.

ZHI-ZHI:  No more beatings from Wicked Witch!  We friends now!  Friends of the hozen!

Faranell prods Magatha’s remains, rummaging through the remains of her cloak.

MOKVAR:  Be careful there, Edwin – are you sure you should be poking around in that stuff?

FARANELL:  <continues rummaging>  Oh, yes, you’re right, I’d better be careful not to touch any of the plague, or else my flesh might decompose and I might die and OH WAIT.

Faranell pulls a polished gray stone from Magatha’s cloak and tosses it to Garrosh.

Here we go.  Mission accomplished.

ZHI-ZHI:  Yes!  You take Doomstone – reward for killing Wicked Witch!  And hozen will follow you now!

GARROSH:  Don’t I know you from somewhere?

ZHI-ZHI:  <scratching his head>  Ever been to Tian Monastery?

GARROSH:  Never heard of it.

MOKVAR:  Well, other than that one time.

ZHI-ZHI:  <still scratching his head>  Dunno then…

GARROSH:  <shrugs>  Whatever.

FARANELL:  Portal back to the Wizard?

GARROSH:  Yeah, let’s get a move on.

ZHI-ZHI:  Hozen come too!  Follow new leader!  Leader who free hozen!

GARROSH:  Uh, yeah, dude, listen, I’ve already got my quota filled on preliterate knuckle-dragging lackeys, okay?

DONTRAG:  Sorry, sir.

FARANELL:  Okay, gentlemen, here we go…

Faranell casts a portal spell and teleports the group away.  Zhi-Zhi remains with the other winged monkeys; he looks around dejectedly, then sneers at the spot where Garrosh had been standing.

ZHI-ZHIStill not the one!

Blackout.  In the Wizard of Zhan’s chamber, Garrosh et al port in, joining Medivh, Garona, and Liadrin.

MEDIVH:  Ah, you’ve returned!  The mighty but restless Wizard of Zhan is both pleased and not inconsiderably relieved at your timely return!

MOKVAR:  You were worried about us?

MEDIVH:  Not especially.  But since your departure, your…colleague has scarcely shut up.

GARONA:  Well sue me for thinking you might want to catch up a little.  It’s not like we have a kid together or anything.

GARROSH:  <looking to Liadrin>  And hang on, what are YOU doing here?

LIADRIN:  You think I would miss this floor show?

GARROSH:  Well you know, if you were going to come here anyway, you could have maybe stayed with us and used some of your magic to help move things along.

LIADRIN:  And then what would you have learned?

GARROSH:  I didn’t learn a damn thing as it is, other than “Watch where you step around monkeys” and “Don’t get too close if you see a walking corpse with a bucket”!

FARANELL:  You know I’m standing right here.

LIADRIN:  Two valuable life lessons.

GARROSH:  …I seriously need some new friends.

MEDIVHAt any rate.

GARROSH:  Yeah, PLEASE get us back to business.

MEDIVH:  You have brought the Doomstone, as I instructed?

GARROSH:  <holds up the Doomstone>  Got it right here.

MEDIVH:  Excellent.  Now you shall hand over the relic, and—

GARROSH:  Not so fast, translucent boy.  First you give us what we came here for, THEN we’ll give you the doohicky.

MEDIVH:  You dare try to dictate terms to the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan, mortal?  I should liquidate you for your presumption alone!

Mortimer, who has been sniffing around the various tapestries that cover parts of the walls, tugs back one curtain to reveal a control panel covered with elaborate levers, buttons, and monitors, manned by a Forsaken male dressed in warrior’s plate.

GARROSH:  Uh, who’s that?

The Forsaken man speaks into a microphone on the control panel, and his words are echoed by Medivh.

AVERRY and MEDIVH:  Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!

FARANELL:  Well that’s…odd.

GARROSH:  The hell?

GARONA:  I don’t even want to think about the implications of this for me.

AVERRY and MEDIVH:  Silence, you foolish mortals!  Pay him no mind!

GARROSH:  Dude, we can see you’re the one doing the talking.

UTVOCH:  I’m confused.

FARANELL:  Imagine our astonishment.

Averry looks back at the others and hurriedly pulls the curtain closed again.

GARROSH:  Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the— Oh.  Oops.  Wrong button.

MEDIVH:  That’s better.  Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the curtain, and put him out of mind!

ALL:  What man behind the curtain whom we certainly don’t remember seeing?

MEDIVH:  Much better.

GARROSH:  Look, can we just get what we came here for so we can get this whole freak show over with?

LIADRIN:  It probably would be just as easy to do it this way, Guardian.

MEDIVH:  <sighs>  Very well.  Have your companions step forward…

Mokvar, Faranell, Dontrag, and Utvoch step closer to Medivh.  Medivh looks to Faranell.

First you, my fellow – albeit preposterously less mighty – mage.

FARANELL:  Can’t anyone be one of the best at their class without being an elitist jerk about it?

MEDIVH:  You came, as I recall, seeking guts – and yet I daresay you suffer from disorganized thinking.  To flee from danger is, in many cases, not cowardice, but wisdom.  Indeed, in my day I have known many a soul called a hero, who carried out great deeds of valiance, and they had no more courage than—

FARANELL:  No, no, you’re taking this too metaphorically.

MEDIVH:  Pardon?

FARANELL:  I don’t need guts because I think I’m a coward.  Look at me.  Half my internal organs are missing.  I have no guts, literally.

MEDIVH:  Huh.  You know, you’re shedding new light on some complaints I’ve been getting from Moroes…

FARANELL:  How about I put you down for an “I’ll get back to you” and keep the line moving.

Medivh shrugs and turns to Mokvar.

MEDIVH:  As for you, my good orc… Your trouble is another misperception of your situation – not the lack of heart, but a damaged one.  To that end, I give you this remedy, for your ears and your ears alone:

Medivh leans closer to Mokvar.

<aside>  She is still out there, alive, and she is looking for you.

Mokvar makes a surprised expression, then nods and steps away.  Medivh turns to Dontrag and Utvoch.

Now then…you two.

DONTRAG:  Yes, sir, your high and mighty Wizardariousness, sir.

UTVOCH:  Very much honored to bask in your presence and await your magnaminious blessings, sir.

MEDIVH:  Hmm…  Yeah.  Right.  Sorry.  You can’t fix stupid.

DONTRAG:  Oh.

UTVOCH:  Um…okay…

GARROSH:  <sighs>  Gotta say, we’re not getting a whole lot of return on our investment so far.

MEDIVH:  Now for your request, other-orc.  You say you seek the demon Malchezaar, and the means to draw him out of his hiding place…

GARROSH:  Right.  Please don’t tell me this is another one of those “Oops, I can’t really do that one” things for you.

MEDIVH:  The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan can do anything, mortal!

FARANELL:  Other than listen to himself for like the last three minutes.

MEDIVH:  But, as it happens, in this case the Wizard does not need to!

GARROSH:  <sighs>  Don’t tell me you’re going to get all cryptic on me now.

LIADRIN:  What I think the Wizard means, Garrosh, is that you have the means now to do it yourself.

GARROSH:  The what now?

Liadrin points to the Doomstone in Garrosh’s hands.

Huh… This thing can do it?  How?

LIADRIN:  You need only charge it with the Focusing Iris, and you’ll see.

GARROSH:  Huh.  Well, you heard her, Edwin.  Let’s see what this thing does.

Faranell takes out the Focusing Iris and starts to channel arcane power through it and into the Doomstone.  The Doomstone starts to glow, then expand, growing into a heavy gray slab of rock with a single runic symbol etched into it.

LIADRIN:  Now all you need to is touch your hand to it and say “Come click on the stone.”

Garrosh gives a quizzical look, then shrugs and puts his hand on the stone.

GARROSH:  Come click on the stone.

LIADRIN:  That’s it…go on…

GARROSH:  Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone…

As he repeats the phrase, Faranall and Mokvar approach and touch the stone as well.  The stage lights dim as Medivh’s chamber fades away, and the only things left visible are Garrosh and the stone.  A bright light flashes around the stone, and Prince Malchezaar appears.

MALCHEZAAR:  <looks around bewildered>  What?  How—?

GARROSH:  Well hey, now we’re in business.

MALCHEZAARYou!  You dare?

GARROSH:  Yeah, so, we haven’t really properly met or anything, princy, so let me fill you in – I dare.  Like, professionally.

MALCHEZAAR:  Madness has brought you here, orc!  Now I shall be your undoing!

GARROSH:  Seriously, do you bad guys all take a class on these stock threats?  Because—

Garrosh reaches to his back to draw Gorehowl, only to find it’s disappeared from its usual place.

Wha— Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously?  Again, now?

Laughing menacingly, Malchezaar draws Gorehowl and brandishes it.

MALCHEZAAR:  Ha!  Have you misplaced this, fool?  I remember fondly the day I recovered it from Demon’s Fall!

GARROSH:  Ugh, fine, we’ll do this the street-brawl way…

Garrosh rushes at Malchezaar and grapples with him, gripping Gorehowl by its haft when Malchezaar tries to swing it at him.

MALCHEZAAR:  Flee now while you can, orc!  You do not face Malchezaar alone—

GARROSH:  Yeah, yeah, we all know the spiel, squid-face – but you know something?  You’re right.  I DON’T face Malchezaar alone…

The stage lights come back on, illuminating the normal, minimally dressed stage of the Opera House – with Faranell, Liadrin, Mokvar, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch in a semicircle behind Garrosh and Malchezaar.

Say hello to the legion at my command!  SHOW TIME FOR REAL, kids!

MOKVAR:  Liking our odds a lot better this time

While Faranell and Mokvar stand back, casting fireballs and lightning bursts respectively, Liadrin, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch run in to engage Malchezaar at melee range.  Malchezaar staggers back and forth under the onslaught of the group, still grappling with Garrosh over their hold on Gorehowl, until Garrosh twists it out of Malchezaar’s grip, leaps up, and cleaves through the demon’s neck, severing his head.  Malchezaar’s body slumps to the floor, and the spectral audience bursts into applause.

GARROSH:  Wham, bam, the bitch is dead.  Bitch.

As the audience continues their applause, Barnes walks to center stage.

BARNES:  A splendid finale for a most varied and entertaining evening of theater!  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you tonight’s troupe of performers, here for the first and only time for your enjoyment!

The applause rises; Barnes walks back offstage.

MOKVAR:  Well that takes care of that.

DONTRAG:  We’re done here now, right?

LIADRIN:  That should do it, yes…

FARANELL:  <standing over Malchezaar’s body somberly>  At least now he can stop coming back to die over and over…

MOKVAR:  Oh, yeah…I guess you were in your own kind of time loop, weren’t you, Edwin…

LIADRIN:  But…Edwin, it would have been a stable loop with you, wouldn’t it?  Just one set of events repeating infinitely?

FARANELL:  That’s what I’d figured it was going to be…

GARROSH:  Wait, what?  What do you mean, a stable loop?

FARANELL:  When I stayed in old Southshore, and replaced myself.  I’d figured I would live through my life like I remembered it, then get to the point where we traveled to the past, and go back with you again, then the events would be complete.  And then it would be done, and the cycle would just keep spinning itself.

LIADRIN:  That isn’t what happened for you?

FARANELL:  <shaking head slowly>  It didn’t just repeat.  I would live through to our mission to the past, and replace myself again, and pick up my life in the past…and yeah, the loop would keep repeating, but every cycle through, I had to live it through again, and repeat my part of it again, and…

GARROSH:  And…?

LIADRIN:  Oh…oh no…

FARANELL:  …and die again.  And be raised again.

MOKVAR:  Holy crap…

UTVOCH:  Wait, I’m confused, what’s he—

GARROSH:  Just this once, will you please SHUT THE FUCK UP?

FARANELL:  And so yeah, every time around, I had to live out that repetition fresh.  I can still remember every loop, individually…

LIADRIN:  Edwin… I’m not sure if I even really want to know, but…how many times did you…go around?

FARANELL:  By the time you…I…reset the timelines and broke me out…?  2,734.

LIADRIN:  By the Light…  You…relived your own death…?

Faranell nods, still staring at Malchezaar.

MOKVAR:  Edwin, listen—

FARANELL:  Doesn’t really matter at this point.  <turns back to the others>  Come on.  We’re done here.  Portal to Orgrimmar coming up.

Faranell summons a portal, and one by one the rest of the group disappears through it.

There’s no place like home…

Faranell ports out.  The curtain closes.

Intermission

Posted in General, Transcripts with tags , , , , , , on October 25, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

So don’t ask me to explain what the hell THAT was.  As far as I can tell, whatever glamor hocus pocus Barnes has going on here in the Opera House can pull bits and pieces out of all our thoughts and memories and yank them together into these stories.  Which is kind of cool, I guess, as long as you’re watching it and not stuck in the middle of it.  Or, you know, winding up fake-dead on the floor in the middle of it.  It’s a really weird experience having it happen to you, like you’re watching yourself do this stuff from the inside, only you don’t really have control of it other than short little snippets.  Almost like getting hit with a priest’s mind control.  Only with singing and dancing, in this case.

That last one was extra weird, though.  At least with the first show, it was pretty much working off of our experiences with Southshore and the second timeline and all that.  But with that second one…I mean, I get that parts of it were playing off of things we’ve experienced and modifying them to fit this other story, like the bombing of Theramore, and me and Varian getting into it in Dalaran, and a ton of other little things.  But it’s still really weird seeing them get tweaked like that.  Plus I don’t know WHAT the hell was going on with Mokvar and that human.  Maybe that’s just something the glamor played around with, seeing as Mokvar had some time as a freelancer before he came to Orgrimmar, but I don’t know.  Makes me wonder if I need to start keeping an eye on him too.  You know, along with the zillion other people I’m having to keep an eye on these days.

Anyway, I was stupid enough to think we were finally done with all this crap, so during the intermission after that second show, I pulled Barnes aside (well, as much as you can “pull” a noncorporeal ghost anywhere), but it ended up being another mixed bag.

 

GARROSH:  Okay, ghost boy, are you satisfied yet?  Are you ready to help us now?

BARNES:  I’d say you and your friends have certainly earned some assistance, sir, yes.

GARROSH:  Oh thank goodness.  So now that we’re done with the stupid stage shows, we can—

BARNES:  Oh, I didn’t say we were done yet, though, sir.  There is still the third show to tend to.

GARROSH:  You just said you were going to help us.

BARNES:  Yes, sir, I did.

GARROSH:  But you’re still throwing us out there for another one of these damn things.

BARNES:  We did bill it as a triple feature, sir.

GARROSH:  You want to explain how all that fits together?

BARNES:  You’ll get your help, sir.  We’ll just work it into the performance — all part of the magic of show business, you see.  Literally in this case, as it happens.

GARROSH:  <grumbles>  You know, it’s a really lucky thing for you that you’re already dead, spooks.

BARNES:  <shrugs>  In any case, sir, I think curtain time has arrived.

GARROSH:  Great…

Barnes walks back onstage and stands under his spotlight while the ghostly audience applauds.

BARNES:  Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this evening’s final presentation!  Tonight, we plumb the depths of the human soul—

GARROSH:  <offstage>  Fuck that human shit!

BARNES:  Erm, the orcish—

GARONA:  <offstage>  Only half!

BARNES:  The…orcish and half-orcish—

LIADRIN:  <offstage>  No billing for elves?

BARNES:  <sighs>  Tonight, we plumb the depths of the…racially diverse…bipedal…

Barnes looks offstage uncomfortably, bracing himself for another interruption; when none comes, he lets out a sigh of relief and continues.

…racially diverse bipedal soul—

FARANELL:  <offstage>  Haven’t had one in years!

BARNES:  We’re going to show you a story about some people, okay?  And…join a lost orc trying desperately, with the help of his loyal companions, to find a way to protect his home.  But…he is pursued by a wicked, malevolent crone!

The audience gasps.

Will he survive?  Will he prevail?  Only time will tell.  And now: On with the show!

West Azeroth Story, Act 3

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 23, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The curtain rises.  Spotlights illuminate the left and right sides of the stage separately, as Garrosh leads the Horde forces across the Barrens on one side and Varian leads the Alliance from Theramore.

 

{QUINTET}

HORDE:

The Horde is gonna have its day
Tonight.
The Horde is gonna have its way
Tonight.
Alliance think we’re jokin’, no doubt,
But once their king is broken,
We’re kicking them out.

ALLIANCE:

We’re gonna look ’em in the eyes
Tonight.
We’re gonna cut ’em down to size
Tonight.
We told ’em they could can it: war cries.
We’ll kick ’em off our planet
Once Garrosh, he dies
Tonight.

HORDE:

We’re gonna stop it tonight,
We’re going to drive them off and take Kalimdor!

ALLIANCE:

We’ll turn the tables tonight,
We can’t afford to mess around anymore –
Green-skins invade us!

HORDE:

The Legion made us!
But this time we’re the ones who’ll finish this war!

ALL:

Tonight!

A spotlight illuminates a Theramore courtyard at stage right, where Jaina is seen with Rhonin.

JAINA:

I really do not like this plan
Tonight.
Things really could get out of hand
Tonight.

RHONIN:

They’ll show up for the battle:
Brief truce.
With you there, maybe that’ll
Give an excuse
Tonight?

Jaina nods to Rhonin and rushes out.

A spotlight illuminates Mokvar crossing the Southfury River into the Barrens.

MOKVAR:

Tonight, tonight,
This stinks like saronite.
Tonight the flames of war could be fanned.
Tonight, tonight,
When our two leaders fight,
That Malkorok may have something planned.

One more spotlight illuminates the Theramore tower, where Deliana looks out a window.

DELIANA:

Tonight
The past may come back calling,
The future that we’re stalling,
And now, out of my sight,
There’s such a fright
That what we’ve done is coming to light…

HORDE:

The Horde is coming out on top tonght!
We’re gonna watch Varian drop tonight!
They’ll go slow as molasses,
Cry and pout.
The door will hit their asses
On their way out.

Garrosh, Malkorok, the rest of the Horde group, and Deliana overlap:

GARROSH:

<to Malkorok>  You keep a wide-open eye.

MALKOROK:

Right.

GARROSH:

In case he tries something sly.

MALKOROK:

Right.

GARROSH:

For the Horde!

HORDE:

For the Horde!

MALKOROK:

And they might have a surprise
Tonight.

DELIANA:

Tonight, tonight
Our role it might indict,
Tonight the flames of war could be fanned.

The Horde, Alliance, Mokvar, Deliana, and Jaina – who is now riding across Dustwallow Marsh – overlap:

HORDE and ALLIANCE:

We’re gonna stop it tonight!
We’re gonna end it tonight!
They’re gonna get it tonight!

ALLIANCE:

They invaded,
They invaded,
They invaded.

HORDE:

Here we’ve made it,
Here we’ve made it,
Home: we made it.

ALLIANCE:

We can’t afford to mess around.
Alliance has to win the day,
Alliance has to find a way.
We’ve got to stop it tonight.

HORDE:

We’re gonna grind them to the ground,
The Horde is gonna have its day,
The Horde is gonna have its way.
We’ve got to stop it tonight.

JAINA:

Tonight, tonight,
We just might
Have one chance to get it right:
Now Jaina’s got to find a way
To broker peace before the fray:
Will cooler heads carry the day?
Tonight, tonight,
Our future could be bright –
I’ve got to stop it tonight!

DELIANA:

Tonight, tonight,
When our two leaders fight,
That Malkorok may have something planned.

MOKVAR and DELIANA:

Tonight
The past may come back calling,
The future that we’re stalling,

MOKVAR:

And now, within my sight,

DELIANA:

And now, out of my sight,

MOKVAR and DELIANA:

There’s such a fright
That what we’ve done is coming to light…

ALL:

Tonight.

Blackout.  From either side of the stage, the Horde and Alliance enter the Battlescar in the Southern Barrens.  Both groups spread out over their respective sides of the field, then Garrosh and Varian approach each other at center stage, accompanied by Malkorok and Mathias Shaw.

VARIAN:  Warchief.

GARROSH:  Dickface.

VARIAN:  You’re a classy guy, Hellscream, anyone ever tell you that?

GARROSH:  I can have them put that on your gravestone if you want.

VARIAN:  Are you ready?

GARROSH:  To finally put you in the ground?  I’ve been ready for that for years.

Varian draws Shalamayne and extends it in front of him.

VARIAN:  Your blade?

GARROSH:  What about it?

SHAW:  If you would let us inspect it for doctoring.

GARROSH:  What the hell are you implying?

VARIAN:  We’re not implying anything.  It’s just customary to examine each other’s weapons so we can see no one is—

MALKOROK:  The two-legged rodent is suggesting you would poison your blade, Warchief.  For that alone this mongrel will—

GARROSH:  You DARE insinuate I would cheat, human?

VARIAN:  Obviously, Garrosh, you would never employ questionable methods when faced with honorable combat.  Nevertheless.

Varian gestures with Shalamayne.  Garrosh grumbles, then begrudgingly draws Gorehowl and holds it in front of him.

SHAW:  Thank you, Warchief.

VARIAN:  Now then.

GARROSH:  Have your people stand back, Varian.  This is between you and me.

VARIAN:  You do the same.

Garrosh waves to the Horde group, which steps back and spreads in a semicircle from the side of the stage to the background.  Varian signals to the Alliance members, who mirror the Horde’s movements.

MALKOROK:  Now – begin!

Garrosh and Varian rush at each other and begin to fight as furious music swells.  They lunge and parry, circle around the middle of the stage, and match each other’s moves in rhythm with the music.  As the duel unfolds, the spectators begin to shout and cheer for their respective leader, until the cacophonous yells begin to blend into a rhythmic chanting that becomes a counterpoint to the music.

Several times over the course of the fight, Garrosh and Varian lock weapons until one of them shoves the other back toward one side of the stage.  Each time, they circle around then resume their clash at center stage.

Slowly, in the background, Malkorok begins to make his way closer to the Alliance side of the circle.  From under his cloak, he withdraws a long dagger, shining with a sickly green gleam.

Mokvar enters at the edge of the stage.  As he arrives, Garrosh and Varian lock blades and rotate around as each tries to outmuscle the other.  Garrosh finally gains the upper hand and flings Varian back toward the Alliance side.  Malkorok moves toward him from behind, dagger in hand.

MOKVAR:  No!  Look out!

Mokvar runs to center stage and tackles Varian to the ground, in the process knocking him out of the way of Malkorok’s stab.

FALSTAD:  They’re attackin’ His Majesty!

SHAW:  That one had a dagger!

MALKOROK:  <recovering himself>  That treasonous scribe!  He’s helping the human!

SHANDRIS:  They were never going to honor the duel!

GARROSH:  Mokvar!  You!  If I didn’t see it with my own eyes…!

The two sides rush at each other and begin fighting, largely in the background.  At center stage, Garrosh dodges a few Alliance swings, then grabs Mokvar and holds him by his neck while drawing Gorehowl back.

GARROSH:  You…traitorous…!

As Garrosh prepares to swing, Varian grabs him from behind – jarring Garrosh enough to make him lose his grip on Mokvar – and plunges Shalamayne through his back and out of his chest.

GARROSH:  <looking down at the blade>  Oh for fuck’s sake…AGAIN?

MOKVAR:  Oh…oh crap…

GARROSH:  Also, how come this doesn’t actually hurt?  I mean I know I’m badass and all, but…

BARNES:  <from offstage>  It’s just a glamour, you silly actor – special effects can’t really hurt you.

GARROSH:  I…  <looking around>  Oh…

BARNES:  Now stop breaking the fourth wall and get back to your scene!

GARROSH:  Aren’t YOU the one—

BARNESAction!

GARROSH:  <sighs>  Fine.  <flatly>  Oh I am slain.  Oh agony.  Now I shrug off this mortal coil, it is to laugh, the end.  And shit.

Garrosh drops to the ground, where he lays mostly still while making a half-hearted attempt to play dead.  Around him the fighting rages on between the Horde and Alliance.

LIADRIN:  Garrosh!

DONTRAG:  He killed the Warchief!

UTVOCH:  You bastard!

VARIAN:  Victory!  Hellscream has fallen!  For the Alli—

Garona unstealths behind Varian and stunlocks him, then unleashes a flurry of blows until he drops to the ground.

GARONA:  House of Wrynn!  Two generations running!  Tell Anduin to sleep lightly!  Booyah!

Garona stealths again.  The two sides continue to battle frantically.

MALKOROK:  Now!  With Wrynn slain!  Now, shamans, show the dogs the first of our surprises!

A handful of dark-clad shaman emerge from the Horde group and begin channeling spells.  Several of the surrounding boulders begin to glow, then rise up as molten giants and begin to attack the Alliance.

Jaina enters.

JAINA:  By the Light!  What’s happening here?!

FALSTAD:  The devils ’a broken the agreement!

SHAW:  They’ve killed Varian!

The molten giants stomp on several Alliance soldiers and send the group scattering.

JAINA:  We have to get out of here!  Everyone to me!

The Alliance rush to Jaina, who teleports them away.  The shaman stop channeling their spells, and the molten giants collapse back into boulders.

MALKOROK:  Horde!  The Alliance flees, but they will not escape!  Quickly, to Brackenwall Village!  We will regroup and bring the fight to them!  For the Horde!

The Horde exits, leaving the stage empty save for the bodies of Garrosh and Varian.  The stage lights lower, save for dim lights still illuminating the bodies.

GARROSH:  Well that sucked.

VARIAN:  Yeah, it kind of did.

GARROSH:  Yeah.

VARIAN:  Still, though…

GARROSH:  What?

VARIAN:  For the record, I got you.

GARROSH:  Fuck you, Varian.

Blackout.  In a Theramore tower, Deliana paces the room.

Jaina enters.

DELIANA:  Jaina!  What happened?

JAINA:  <sighs>  Varian is dead.

DELIANA:  What?!  How?  You mean now we have to…?

JAINA:  It’s not that simple.  Varian is dead, but so is Garrosh.  I’m still not sure how it all happened – by the time I got there, things had already—

A knock at the door is heard.

JONATHAN:  <outside>  Lady Proudmoore!

JAINA:  Come in, General.

The door opens and General Marcus Jonathan enters, along with Jaina’s night elf bodyguard Pained; the pair holds Mokvar captive.

JONATHAN:  Lady Proudmoore, this orc was found lurking outside the city.  He didn’t resist capture, but he did insist on speaking with you.

DELIANA:  Mokvar!

JAINA:  You know him, Deliana?

PAINED:  You should be more selective in your friends.  Shandris says this is one of the orcs that helped kill Varian.

DELIANA:  He what?

MOKVAR:  That’s…not entirely accurate.

JONATHAN:  That’s enough from you, orc.

DELIANA:  There has to have been some mistake.

JONATHAN:  There were several, starting with the decision to trust these green-skinned—

JAINA:  That’s enough, General.  You can leave us.  I’d like to have a few words with the prisoner.

JONATHAN:  As you wish.

JAINA:  You too, Pained.  Please wait outside.

PAINED:  With all due respect, my lady, my place is—

JAINA:  Is where I tell you to go, Pained.  I can take care of myself.

PAINED:  Yes, ma’am.

Jonathan and Pained exit.  Jaina turns to Deliana.

JAINA:  How long have you known him?

DELIANA:  We go back quite a few years.

JAINA:  You trust him?

DELIANA:  I’ve spent the last six years hiding in Ironforge for safety.  I think he did more to protect me from Orgrimmar in that time than any of the dwarves ever did.

JAINA:  <turns to Mokvar>  They say you attacked Varian.  Here’s your chance to explain.

MOKVAR:  I jumped him.  That much is true.  But I wasn’t attacking him.  I was trying to push him out of the way of the one who was.

JAINA:  Who, Garrosh?  Why would you try to swing the duel against the Horde?

MOKVAR:  No, not Garrosh.  If it was just him and Varian, I would have stayed out of it.  It was Malkorok.  He was about to stab Varian from behind.

DELIANA:  Malkorok… Of course it was Malkorok.

MOKVAR:  It ended up backfiring.  Both sides thought I was working against them, and in the chaos, Garrosh was killed.  And by that point I don’t think anyone was interested in honoring the terms of the duel.

JAINA:  I don’t even know how many on our side will be willing to listen to reason now.

DELIANA:  Jaina, can’t you rein them in?  You’d have to be one of the highest ranking people left.

JAINA:  I can try, but I don’t know how much good it will do.  With Anduin still a boy, there’s no clear line of succession, so right now I’m merely one in a sea of voices.

MOKVAR:  The Horde is having its own problems with succession, only worse.  It looks like Malkorok is effectively taking over.

DELIANA:  Oh no…

JAINA:  Who is this Malkorok?

MOKVAR:  A Blackrock orc who used to work for Rend Blackhand.  At least he gave the appearance of it.  I don’t think he ever really served anyone or anything other than his own agenda.

JAINA:  I take it having him leading the Horde would be bad news for all involved.

MOKVAR:  Let’s put it this way.  I know Garrosh was no bargain.  But this guy?  Malkorok would make Garrosh look like Thrall.

JAINA:  Do you think there are others in the Horde who will still resist him?

MOKVAR:  I know there are others who won’t be thrilled to have him in charge.  The only question is whether Malkorok’s managed to scare them into submission.

JAINA:  Then you need to go do what you can while there are some who’ll still listen.  And if not…

Jaina reaches into a pocket and produces a small, smooth stone with totemic markings, then slips it into Mokvar’s hand.

…I think you know what this is for.

Mokvar nods.  Jaina starts to channel a spell, and a portal appears in the room.

Go now – hurry.

MOKVAR:  What will you tell the others?

JAINA:  You let me worry about that.

DELIANA:  Stay safe, Mokvar.

MOKVAR:  I think “safe” is long off the board for all of us.  But it’s partly our fault this is happening.

DELIANA:  I know.  Be careful.

MOKVAR:  Always am.

Mokvar disappears through the portal.

Blackout.  In Brackenwall Village, the Horde group arrives, met by Krog and Draz’Zilb.

KROG:  Malkorok?  What are you all doing here?

MALKOROK:  The human king is slain – but not without a cost!  The dogs turned on us with aid from one of our own, and murdered the Warchief!

KROG:  They what?  Garrosh is dead?

MALKOROK:  He is…but we will ensure that he soon finds himself in good company.

FARANELL:  Wait, didn’t we have an agreement with the Alliance that the duel would decide control of Kalimdor?  And, well, Varian did kill Garrosh before—

Malkorok steps up to Faranell quickly and knocks him down with a vicious blow.

MALKOROK:  Unless you wish to lose more pieces of that rotting corpse you call a body, mage, I recommend you choose your words carefully.

Malkorok glares around as some of the group exchange looks in uneasy silence.

UTVOCH:  I can’t believe the Warchief died…

DONTRAG:  What are we doing now?

DRAZ’ZILB:  Surely we can’t let the Warchief’s death go unanswered!

MALKOROK:  Nor will we!  Listen to me, soldiers of the Horde!  I had little doubt the Alliance pigs would show their true colors in this affair, but we will see to it that they pay for their treachery!

Mokvar enters.

Oh, and speaking of treachery!  Here’s the dog who turned on his own Warchief to lend aid to the human!  Seize him!

Mokvar is apprehended by a pair of Kor’kron and brought closer to the group.

MOKVAR:  It’s funny how selective your memory is, Malkorok.  I’m a traitor for helping Varian, but you’re awfully quick to gloss over what I was helping him against – we both know it wasn’t Garrosh.

MALKOROK:  You think I hide my role, scribe?  Hardly – I take pride in it!  I came to the aid of my Warchief; you came to the aid of his mortal enemy.  Tell me again which of us here should hang his head!

LIADRIN:  Wait, you were interfering with the fight?  It was supposed to be honorable combat!

MALKOROK:  You will be silent, elf!

Malkorok steps toward Liadrin and throws a punch at her; she deflects it with a paladin bubble, then stuns Malkorok with a Hammer of Justice.

LIADRIN:  Now now, didn’t your mother teach you not to hit a lady?  She would be ashamed.

MALKOROK:  <seething as he collects himself>  She taught me to crush my foes.

LIADRIN:  Then she would be doubly ashamed if the lady in question were to beat you down.

MOKVARThat’s why I jumped in – to keep him from ambushing Varian and—

MALKOROK:  And slaying the leader of our enemy!  Are you fool enough to think you serve our Warchief by saving his nemesis?

MOKVAR:  Garrosh Hellscream had many failings, but he believed in honor.  At least until he started having his steps shadowed by the likes of you.

MALKOROK:  In battle, nothing is more honorable than victory.

MOKVAR:  Funny, I can think of at least one victory Garrosh would have gladly given back…

MALKOROK:  Keep spinning your words, scribe – it’s what a coward like you does, isn’t it?

Malkorok turns to the rest of the group.

The rest of you – what I am calling for is not words.  Your fallen Warchief did not spend his days dawdling over words.  He sought action.  For the safety of the Horde!  For the glory of the Horde!  So let this scribe lull you into submission with his words – I call on you to act!  To avenge your leader!  To finally strike the human disease that has too long infected this continent.  Will you join me?  Or will you sit here, and bandy about words, and wring your hands over niceties – until the Alliance again show themselves for what they are, and again come to enslave our people, and again leave the ground stained with orcish blood?

Many of the Horde troops, including most of the Kor’kron, start to shout in support.

Good!  That is the Horde I know!  Now, all of you!  Follow me, and we will show the Alliance what becomes of those who draw our wrath!  To Theramore!  More surprises await the humans…

DRAZ’ZILB:  None greater than how quickly they’ll fall before us!

KROG:  Hell yeah, we’ll roll over the humans so fast they won’t even know what hit them!

MALKOROK:  Oh no, soldiers, not quickly – quick is painless.  And these humans must be made to suffer for their crimes against our people!

DRAZ’ZILBNow you’re talking my language!

DONTRAG:  <aside>  Does this seem a little strange to you?

UTVOCH:  <aside>  All I know is they killed the Warchief… I guess it makes sense to go after them…

MALKOROK:  Every pain these humans have brought to us will be repaid tenfold tonight!  You want to avenge your Warchief?  Then leave your pity and your mercy here – bring only your rage and your cruelty!

 

{CRUEL}

MALKOROK:

Horde, Horde, angry Horde,
Get cruel, Horde!
Vow again, gents, for your vengeance,
Get cruelly cruel, Horde!
Don’t relent, ’cause we have spent
Too long holding back.
Set in mind that humankind
Is overdue for some cruel payback.

Horde, Horde, vengeful Horde!
Stay fierce, Horde!
From the skies comes their demise,
Bring them to tears, Horde!
Fight, Horde, fight,
Each human we’ll smite, each fool floored.
Unleash, be cruel, Horde,
Real cruel.

Mokvar, Liadrin, and Faranell watch the rest of the group march off behind Malkorok.

LIADRIN:  I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I think I’m actually glad Garrosh didn’t live to see this…

MOKVAR:  Yeah…

Mokvar tries to take a step, but is restrained by the two Kor’kron who’ve remained behind, and are still holding him.

<looking back and forth between the Kor’kron>  Huh.

One of the Kor’kron slumps over, sapped.

KOR’KRON #2:  What the—?

The other Kor’kron turns into a sheep in a puff of smoke.

FARANELL:  That’s better.

Garona unstealths behind the sapped guard.

GARONA:  You really have a way with people, Mokvar.

MOKVAR:  I know, right?  Still…thanks for sticking with me.  All of you.

LIADRIN:  I think we’re about to be outcasts among the outcasts.

FARANELL:  Eh.  You get used to it.

MOKVAR:  I was hoping there would be more who would listen…

LIADRIN:  Right now they don’t know what to think.  So most of them aren’t.

FARANELL:  And the rest of them are Dontrag and Utvoch.  So, you know…

GARONA:  What was that business about the surprise for Theramore?

LIADRIN:  I don’t know, but…wait…that part about it coming from the skies…

FARANELL:  What are you thinking?

LIADRIN:  <looks up>  There’s been a goblin sky galleon circling around the western Barrens all night…

FARANELL:  Sending troops in by parachute?

GARONA:  He would send a gunship for that.  A galleon isn’t designed for troop deployment, just…payload.

LIADRIN:  I think he’s planning to use a bomb…

MOKVAR:  Jaina’s trying to calm the Alliance down and get them to listen to reason, but that’s off the board if Malkorok escalates things even more.

FARANELL:  Remember when this cunning plan was going to spare us a big, messy, drawn-out war?

MOKVAR:  I’m hoping we can still limit the damage…

LIADRIN:  What do you have in mind?

MOKVAR:  For starters – Garona, can you stealth into Theramore?  We need you to warn them about what Malkorok’s doing.

GARONA:  Wait, you want to warn the Alliance that a Horde attack is coming?

LIADRIN:  To keep all of this from getting any further out of hand than it already is.

MOKVAR:  And to let them see that not all of the Horde has gone crazy.

GARONA:  Ugh, fine.  I’ll get in and try to warn them.

LIADRIN:  What about Edwin and I?  What do you want us to do?

MOKVAR:  Run.

LIADRIN:  What?

FARANELL:  I can handle that.

MOKVAR:  Get back to the Eastern Kingdoms.

LIADRIN:  Why?  We should do something to help here.

FARANELL:  Don’t argue with the man.  Not-here sounds terrific.

MOKVAR:  Look, there’s no telling how much uglier this is going to get for us.  If things really go bad in Kalimdor, we need some good people still standing over on the other continent.

LIADRIN:  There’s still Sylvanas and Lor’themar to run things there.

MOKVAR:  You mean Miss “When in Doubt, Throw More Plague on It”—

FARANELL:  You do realize who she has in charge of making all the plague, right?

MOKVAR:  —and Mr. “Does Anyone Actually Know Who I Am, and By the Way Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat”?

LIADRIN:  Seriously, why does no one ever remember who Lor’themar is?

GARONA:  Who?

LIADRIN:  <sigh>

MOKVAR:  Liadrin, really, I know you want to help, but right now the best way for you to do that is by getting somewhere safe.

LIADRIN:  What are you going to do?

MOKVAR:  <taking out the stone he’d received from Jaina>  I’ve got one more card to try playing.

LIADRIN:  Whatever it is, good luck.

MOKVAR:  To all of us.

Garona stealths and sneaks off; Faranell teleports himself and Liadrin away.  Mokvar holds out the stone, channels a spell for several seconds, then disappears in a green flash.

Blackout.  In Theramore, Jaina joins Deliana in the tower above.

JAINA:  You haven’t moved since Mokvar left.

DELIANA:  <shrugs>  As long as I keep looking and not seeing anything, then nothing else is coming apart.

JAINA:  Hopefully he’ll be able to convince them.

DELIANA:  Hopefully.  Thank you for being willing to listen to him.

JAINA:  I’ve been rumored to know what it’s like to trust an orc when it’s not a terribly popular thing to do.

Rhonin enters.  As he does, stagelights illuminate the Theramore courtyard below, where Garona unstealths.  The scene below unfolds as the conversation in the tower continues: Garona is immediately attacked by Pained, Shaw, and a few of the Theramore guards; she attempts to fend off their attacks without actively striking anyone, while trying to talk, but to no avail; eventually more Alliance troops mob her, beating her viciously.

JAINA:  Rhonin – any luck calming them down?

RHONIN:  <shaking head>  No more than you’ve had so far.  This entire turn of events is proof of why both sides should have listened when we tried to start peace talks.

JAINA:  I don’t think listening was ever the strong suit of either of the leaders involved.

RHONIN:  Still, I’m hopeful that given a chance to calm down, they’ll eventually be willing to reconsider.

JAINA:  The question is whether they’ll give themselves that chance to calm down.

RHONIN:  You think they might do something rash?

JAINA:  If they don’t, the Horde might.  Either way, we all lose.

Falstad and Jonathan drag a bloodied Garona up to the tower and enter, followed closely by Pained and Shaw.

JONATHAN:  Lady Proudmoore, we have another Horde captive!

JAINA:  What…what did you do to her?

SHAW:  Nothing these orcs don’t deserve.

FALSTAD:  Aye, the troops made sure this one’d be takin’ some partin’ gifts, if’n she escapes…

JAINA:  This… Is this what it’s come to now?  Is this what we’ve reduced ourselves to?

PAINED:  We didn’t start this war, my lady.

GARONA:  <halting>  No…but Malkorok…is coming…coming to finish it.

JAINA:  Malkorok!  He’s still in charge?  Mokvar couldn’t stop him?

GARONA:  He…he tried… And then he…he sent me to…to warn you…to…  <looks around disgustedly>  …to save you…

JAINA:  Warn us about what?  What is Malkorok doing?

SHAW:  <shoving Garona>  Answer her, orc!

JAINALet her!

GARONA:  Malkorok…Malkorok is bringing the Horde to…to attack Theramore…and…  <spits out blood, then looks around again angrily>  He’s throwing the whole force at the north gate…

PAINED:  We can pull everyone into the keep and fortify it, my lady – they’ll never get past the walls without siege engines.

SHAW:  Still, I’d recommend sending out an advance force to intercept, maybe thin out their numbers before they can get here.

JAINA:  See to that, Mathias.  While you go out to meet them, we’ll make sure the city is sealed up tightly.  General Jonathan?

JONATHAN:  Yes, Lady Proudmoore?

JAINA:  I want you, General Redmane, and Admiral Aubrey coordinating the defenses here.  I’ll speak to Rhonin about setting up some spells to reinforce the outer gates.

JONATHAN:  Yes, ma’am.  I’ll relay your orders.

Jonathan runs out.  As he releases his grip on Garona, she jerks to one side and pulls free of Falstad’s grip, then stealths.

FALSTAD:  Dammit!  Where’d tha’ one go?

PAINED:  We’re having a very bad day with prisoners today…

JAINA:  Never mind that – everyone get to work preparing for the attack.

The other officers exit.

I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this…

DELIANA:  I think I see them coming…

JAINA:  <sighs>  I’d better get down there, then…

Jaina exits; Deliana continues watching from the window.

Blackout.  In Dustwallow Marsh, near Theramore, Malkorok enters with the rest of the Horde force, stage left.  From stage right, an Alliance group enters, led by Falstad, Shandris, and Shaw.

SHANDRIS:  There they are!  Stop them!  For the Alliance!

The Alliance rushes at the Horde and the two sides begin fighting.  Malkorok stands back, surveying the battle and watching the sky.  As the fighting rages on, he fires a flare into the sky; after a moment, a blinding burst of light flashes from offstage to the right, as an enormous explosion is heard.  The blast throws several of the Alliance on the right side of the stage a good distance to the left, and many of them sprawl on the ground unconscious.

MALKOROK:  HAHA!  There!  It is done!  See what becomes of the enemies of the Horde, Alliance dogs!  Now, quickly, finish them all, and—

MOKVAR:  <offstage>  Not so fast!

Mokvar enters in ghost wolf form from stage left, closely followed by Vol’jin mounted on a raptor and Baine Bloodhoof on a kodo.

VOL’JIN:  Yah, mon, dere been enough killin’ already taday!

MALKOROK:  You!  I see the traitor has made friends among the malcontents!  No matter, troll, you can watch and learn how—

BAINE:  We will watch nothing other than you standing down!

MALKOROK:  Stand down!  Do you think yourself Warchief now, tauren?  Is that an order?

BAINE:  No, Malkorok, I know I’m not Warchief.  <stares Malkorok down a moment>  And yes, that’s an order.

From stage right, Jaina staggers in unsteadily.

Lady Proudmoore!

SHANDRIS:  <pulling herself up slowly>  Jaina…you…you survived…!

JAINA:  Rhonin…Rhonin ported me out of the city at the last second… But he…he…

MOKVAR:  <looking offstage to the right>  Liana…?

JAINA:  <looking back>  My…my city…my people… They’re…they’re…

MALKOROK:  Enough of this!  Soldiers of the Horde, this is our moment – strike down your enemies once and for all, and—

BAINE:  They will do nothing of the kind, Malkorok!

VOL’JIN:  You be done givin’ orders, mon!

MALKOROK:  And who will, troll?  You?  You think you have any authority to take over here?

VOL’JIN:  Funny ting you be askin’, mon.

Another ghost wolf enters behind Vol’jin, Baine, and Mokvar.

I ain’t da one who be takin’ over.

The ghost wolf moves to center stage and transforms into Thrall.

THRALL:  I believe you’ve done more than enough today, Malkorok.

MALKOROK:  So the prodigal shaman returns!  No matter!

Malkorok draws his axes and rushes at Thrall.  Before he can reach him, Thrall extends one hand and summons a whirlwind that holds Malkorok suspended above the ground.

THRALL:  I’ve faced far more imposing threats than you.  More menacing and chilling than the likes of you could even imagine.

MALKOROK:  <struggling to break out of the whirlwind>  Yes, I know all about your battle with Deathwing, shaman…

THRALL:  I was talking about Aggra with morning sickness.

Jaina finally pulls her attention away from the ruined city and approaches center stage, looking around angrily.

JAINA:  I tried to tell you… And Rhonin… You did this…all of you…did this with your hate…  <starts to build a fireball in her hand>  Well now I have some hate of my own…

THRALL:  Jaina, no!

JAINA:  Don’t try to defend him, Thrall!  You see what he did here!

THRALL:  <glares over to Malkorok, still suspended>  I could care less what happens to this…this.  But the rest of my people have done nothing.

Jaina continues gathering the fireball in her hand as she eyes Malkorok.  In the background, Dontrag and Utvoch can be seen helping Falstad and Shaw to their feet.

JAINA:  Get them out of here.

SHAW:  But Jaina, they—

JAINAToday isn’t the day for anyone to argue with me.  Get them together and get them away from here, Go’el.

Thrall nods, then gestures to Vol’jin and Baine.

BAINE:  All of you, come and come quickly.

VOL’JIN:  Time ta make ourselves invisible like da Lich King’s horse!

BAINE:  You really need a new joke.  Seriously.

The Horde slowly makes its way offstage to the left; Baine and Vol’jin follow them.  Mokvar finally pulls himself away from the sight of Theramore and slowly walks across the stage, stopping to stare a moment at Malkorok as he goes, then exits as well.  Jaina’s gaze never moves from Malkorok.

JAINA:  We’ve all lost a great deal to this conflict…  <looks back over her shoulder>  All of you…leave us.

The Alliance members trickle out; Shaw is the last one to linger at the edge of the stage.

SHAW:  Um, actually, strictly speaking, there isn’t anyplace for us to go to anymo—

JAINAGet OUT, Mathias.

SHAW:  Random swamp wandering it is, yes ma’am.

Shaw exits.

JAINA:  You should go too, Thrall.

THRALL:  I suspect there are more than a few pieces to pick up back in Orgrimmar.

JAINA:  You should go help pick them up, then.

THRALL:  I’m sorry for your people, Jaina.

JAINA:  A lot of us are sorry.  Or will be.

Thrall releases Malkorok and starts to walk away.

MALKOROK:  The great Warchief!  That’s it, is it?  You side with this human over your own kind!

THRALL:  <continuing to walk away without looking back>  You are not my kind, Malkorok.

Thrall exits.

MALKOROK:  Don’t you walk away from me when I’m—

Malkorok starts to move toward Thrall but is stopped when Jaina unleashes her fireball on the ground in front of him, cutting off his path with a wide patch of flame.

JAINA:  Malkorok, is it?  I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.  I’m Jaina Proudmoore.  <summons another fireball in her hand>  I think it’s time we had a long, long – terribly long, really, and maybe unnecessarily slow – talk.

The curtain closes.  Just as it does, a bright red flash can be seen through the heavy cloth, accompanied by an orcish voice crying out.  The remaining stage lights go out.

West Azeroth Story

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 15, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

Barnes walks onstage and a spotlight appears over him.

BARNES:  Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this evening’s presentation!  Tonight we explore a tale of forbidden love!  But beware, for not all love stories end happily.  As you may find out, sometimes love pricks like a thorn.  But don’t take it from me.  See for yourself what tragedy lies ahead when the paths of star-crossed lovers meet.  And now: On with the show!

Barnes walks offstage.  The curtain rises, revealing a farm house with a Horde banner flying behind it.  In the foreground, Garrosh enters from stage right, with Mokvar, Garona, Dontrag, Utvoch, Liadrin, and Faranell in formation behind him.  As they walk by the farm, they begin snapping their fingers rhythmically in unison.  They continue walking until they disappear from view, stage left.

The lights dim for a moment, then come back on, showing that the farm house has been replaced by a blacksmith’s building.  Again, a Horde banner flies in the background.  Garrosh et al enter stage left, still walking in formation and snapping their fingers in unison.  Again they walk across the stage and exit, stage right.

Blackout.  This time, the blacksmith building has been replaced by a stable.  Garrosh et al enter stage right and walk past the stable, snapping their fingers – then, stopping their snapping, they turn and look back at the Alliance flag flying nearby.

From stage left, Varian Wrynn enters with a group of Alliance – including Jaina Proudmoore, Falstad Wildhammer, and Shandris Feathermoon.  The Horde group turns to see them, and the two sides stare each other down for a moment.

As hectic music fills the air, the two groups launch into combat and fight back and forth acrobatically as if dancing to the music.

GARROSH:  For the Horde!

ALL HORDE:  For the Horde!

VARIAN:  For the Alliance!

ALL ALLIANCE:  Alliance!

GARROSH:  Oh, fuck you, Varian!

VARIAN:  This time there’ll be no escape for you, Hellscream!

The two sides continue fighting back and forth in front of the stables.

GARROSH:  For fuck’s sake, you idiots, stop fighting in the middle and cap the damn flag!

VARIAN:  There’re all here!  The mine has to be open, some of you get over there!

LIADRIN:  Someone come with me to cover the blacksmith before they get there!

Most of the combatants rush off in different directions, until Garrosh and Faranell find themselves alone with Varian, Jaina, Shandris, and several anonymous Alliance soldiers.

GARROSH:  Okay, now to—

FARANELL:  Not liking the odds here, boss – lumber mill coming up!

Faranell grabs Garrosh and teleports them both away just as Varian starts to rush at them.  Varian looks around, then points at a red-shirted dwarf.

VARIAN:  You, fact checker!  Watch the stables while we circle around.  Let’s go!

Varian and the others rush off, leaving the Wildhammer Fact Checker standing alone by the flag.  After a moment, the dwarf lurches forward, stunned, as Garona unstealths behind him and starts stabbing him wildly with two daggers until he collapses to the ground.

GARONA:  <turning to the flag>  Lok’tar!

Blackout.  At the blacksmith, Liadrin and Mokvar fight Shandris and an Alliance soldier, pushing them back until they fight their way offstage to the right.

Blackout.  The landscape changes to that of the Isle of Conquest.  From stage right, Garrosh, Liadrin, and Dontrag enter, followed by Flastad driving a glaive, with Jaina casting fireballs in support.  The Alliance drive the Horde back until they exit to the left.

Blackout.  This time the surrounding scenery is that of Wintergrasp.  Varian and Jaina enter from stage left, chased by a demonlisher manned by Garrosh, Garona, and Utvoch, plus a catapult driven by Faranell.  The Horde continues chasing the Alliance until they all exit, stage right.

Blackout.  The scene changes to the Ring of Champions at the Argent Tournament grounds.  From opposite sides of the stage, the Horde and Alliance groups rush in and begin fighting across the ring, again moving in rhythm with the music.

After a few minutes of combat, Tirion Fordring enters, runs to the middle of the fray, and emits a burst of light from the Ashbringer that knocks back all the combatants.  Tirion looks back and forth at the two groups disapprovingly; they return to their feet and look back at him uneasily.

GARROSH:  Oh.  Hey.

VARIAN:  Greetings, Highlord.

TIRION:  If I might have a word, gentlemen.

GARROSH and VARIAN:  Oh no.

TIRION:  Much hope has been invested in an eventual peace between both your peoples, not least of all by the great archmage Rhonin, in his noble planning of the peace summit in Dalaran that draws near.  Indeed, my own friendship with your own kinsman Eitrigg, Warchief Hellscream, stands, if I might dare flatter myself, in illustration of the fellowship that might be wrought between two divergent cultures, and, indeed, worlds—

VARIAN:  Look, Tirion—

GARROSH:  Seriously, you don’t have to—

TIRION:  —one that you both may well benefit to heed.  For surely, two such mighty and wise leaders as yourselves cannot but recognize the merit in looking beyond these petty, mutually destructive squabbles—

GARROSH:  Dude, really, couldn’t you just let us slowly hack each other to death?

VARIAN:  It would be faster and more humane.

TIRION:  —in order to secure a lasting stability that would work to both your advantages.

Garrosh and Varian stare at Tirion in silence for several seconds.

GARROSH:  Were you done?

TIRION:  <sighs>  In any case… Under my roof, gentlemen, I trust you will behave yourselves.

VARIAN:  Fine, Tirion.  I’ll talk to you later.  Or try to.

Varian leaves, the other Alliance following close behind.  Tirion nods to Garrosh and likewise exits, in the opposite direction.

FARANELL:  Well that was arguably needlessly elaborate.

DONTRAG:  What’s the plan now, if I might inquire, oh great and nefarious Warchief?

FARANELL:  “Nefarious”…?

MOKVAR:  Just let him.

UTVOCH:  Indeed, sir, are you planning to go through with the peace summit?

GARROSH:  Dude, did you just meet me today or something?

FARANELL:  Not to mention it would have been a lot easier just to fly up here if that were the case, without having to find parking spaces for all the demolishers.

GARROSH:  The only peace I’m interested in with that Alliance scum is the one that will come after we’ve crushed them beneath our boots, and secured the supremacy of the Horde!

DONTRAG:  For the Horde!

GARONA:  For the Horde!

GARROSH:  FOR THE HORDE!

 

{HORDE SONG}

GARROSH:

When you’re the Horde
You stand mighty and strong!
If the humans come toward,
They won’t be standing long.

When you’re the Horde
You’re united and brave,
And across Kalimdor
Full dominion you crave. 

You’re not backing down,
You’re not intimidated!
You’re green and you’re brown.
(I hope not masticated.)
You’re unabated!

If you get bored
Find some humans to slay –
At the end of your sword
Is the end of their days!
Cause we’re the Horde,
Yeah – For the Horde!

Now I know Varian, and I’m damn sure he isn’t any more jazzed about this peace conference idea than I am.

LIADRIN:  I’ll bet you anything he’s only here at all because Jaina talked him into it.

MOKVAR:  Oh, yeah.  Talked.

GARROSH:  Fuck that shit, Mokvar.  That would require the asshole to be able to—

FARANELL:  I’m begging you not to finish that sentence.

DONTRAG:  So what are we going to do, great and mighty Warchief?

UTVOCH:  Are we skipping the peace summit?

GARROSH:  Oh no, we’re going to the summit.  See, Rhonin’s right about one thing – having our war with the Alliance drag on and on IS a waste.  For US, anyway.  The sooner it ends – with the Horde victorious – the sooner we can stop losing the lives of so many of our brave soldiers.

GARONA:  So what are you planning?

GARROSH:  We’ll go to Rhonin’s little conference – and I’m going to challenge Varian to a full-on confrontation.  One last glorious battle, to decide the fate of Kalimdor at least, and maybe the entire world, once and for all.  With victory for the Horde!

DONTRAG:  For the Horde!

UTVOCH:  For the Horde!

DONTRAG:

When you’re the Horde
You say “Lok’tar ogar!”
Hey, I’m singing a chord!
I can’t carry it far…

UTVOCH:

When you’re the Horde
All’s achievable now!
All the wins that we’ve scored,
Inconceivable—OW!!

ALL:

The Horde’s on the move,
Our hearts full of defiance!
We’ve nothing to prove
Once we slay the Alliance,
Down to a science!

Here comes the Horde
And here’s where we begin
Charging headlong to war
And you know that we’ll win.

Here comes the Horde
And the world’s gonna quake,
First we wiped out Southshore,
Then the Barrens we’ll take.

We’re drawin’ the line,
And if they don’t like hurtin’,
They’ll stay on their side,
And if they don’t, it’s certain
For them it’s curtains!

Here comes the Horde!
When we reach Dalaran
We won’t sign no accord—

UTVOCH:

Isn’t this Karazhan?

GARROSH:  <glaring>

Dontrag, I told
You
Once:
WORD
BAN.

All exit, and the lights fade.  After a few seconds, the lights gradually come up again, revealing a large room in the Violet Citadel of Dalaran.  Rhonin paces around the middle of the room.

From stage right, Garrosh enters, followed by Mokvar, Liadrin, Faranell, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch.

From stage left, the Alliance contingent enters: Varian Wrynn, Jaina Proudmoore, Tyrande Whisperwind, Prophet Velen, Falstad Wildhammer, Shandris Feathermoon, Master Mathias Shaw, and Deliana.

As both groups enter, Rhonin mills about greeting them.  No voices are audible, but it’s clear from the participants’ body language that they’re talking.  Occasionally Garrosh is seen smacking Dontrag and/or Utvoch in the head.

From opposite sides of the room, Mokvar and Deliana notice each other, then begin to walk toward each other slowly at center stage.  They meet in the middle of the room, just as, in the background, Rhonin waves Garrosh and Varian toward each other.

DELIANA:  Mokvar…?

MOKVAR:  I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Liana…

In the background, Garrosh and Varian can be seen talking, growing increasingly animated, while Rhonin appears to try to calm them both down.

DELIANA:  I…I was worried about you.

MOKVAR:  <nods>  I’d heard you were in Ironforge.  I’m glad they didn’t get to you.

DELIANA:  When the spectral assassins started coming for the others, I recruited help to try to appease Valthalak.  I’d hoped they could do it before the assassins came for you, too.

MOKVAR:  I did the same.  Mostly to protect my own neck, but still.

DELIANA:  <chuckles>  Not for me?  And here I thought I was something special!

MOKVAR:  <laughs>  Now you sound like my wife.

In the background, Garrosh and Varian storm angrily away from each other, then pause, turn, charge at each other, and start fighting as most of the rest of their respective groups collapse in closer.

DELIANA:  Mokvar, something’s wrong.

MOKVAR:  <glances over his shoulder at the fight>  What was your first hint?

DELIANA:  No, I mean…in Ironforge.  A few days ago…I saw Theldren.

MOKVARWhat?

In the background, Rhonin jumps in close to Garrosh and Varian, then unleashes a burst of arcane energy that knocks them away from each other.

RHONIN:  <muted by distance but audible>  We have all lost a great deal in these conflicts – but we stand to lose everything if we do not stop fighting!

Mokvar and Deliana look back to each other; behind them, the two factions mill about on opposite sides of the room, watching each other guardedly.

MOKVAR:  Wait…you saw TheldrenAlive?

DELIANA:  <nods>  He came to see Moira Thaurissan.  I don’t know what about.

MOKVAR:  I can’t believe he’s still alive…

DELIANA:  It worries me.  If he came out of hiding…or if he’s decided Blackrock Depths isn’t safe enough anymore as a hiding place…

At the right side of the stage, Dontrag and Utvoch begin to look curiously at Mokvar, pointing at him and gesturing to each other as they appear to talk.  (Which they do.  Endlessly.  Because they’re Dontrag and Utvoch.)

MOKVAR:  Liana…I’ve seen something, too.

Mokvar waves her closer; Deliana leans in nearer to him.

DELIANA:  What?  What’s wrong?

MOKVAR:  It’s…him.  He’s back.  And he’s in Orgrimmar.

DELIANA:  Who…?  Not Valthalak?

MOKVAR:  <shaking head>  No, no, not Valthalak, but—

DELIANA:  <eyes going wide>  Oh…ohh…oh no, no…

To the side, Dontrag and Utvoch are joined by Garrosh.

UTVOCH:  <aside>  Warchief?  What’s going on with Mokvar?

DONTRAG:  <aside>  He seems to be on pretty…um…good terms with that human.

GARROSH:  <aside>  Yeah…he does, doesn’t he…

Deliana looks around nervously.

DELIANA:  Mokvar, why would he be in Orgrimmar?  What is he doing there?

MOKVAR:  Bending the Warchief’s ear, mostly…

DELIANA:  He…?  Oh no…Mokvar…

GARROSH:  <aside>  Seriously, wasn’t it enough that Thrall had that incomprehensible thing for Jaina?  Is this going to be some new thing?

DONTRAG:  <aside>  Well, begging your pardon, most highly annoyable and punch-titious sir, she…well, she does have nice legs for a human.

UTVOCH:  <aside>  Eh, doesn’t really do much for me.

DONTRAG:  <aside>  No, because she doesn’t have hooves, Ut.

DELIANA:  Mokvar, what are we going to do?

MOKVAR:  I don’t know.  He’s managed to get himself into Garrosh’s inner circle somehow.  He’s practically become Garrosh’s inner circle.  I don’t know if he’s even touchable at this point.

Garona joins Garrosh, Dontrag, and Utvoch.

GARONA:  <aside>  What are we all looking at?

DONTRAG:  <aside>  Mokvar putting the moves on some human, we think.

GARONA:  <aside>  Ugh, really?  Why do you orc men always seem to go after everything but orc women?

GARROSH:  <aside>  You mean based on the example of an orc woman we have on hand?

DELIANA:  Mokvar…I’ll try to see if I can learn anything.

MOKVAR:  How?

DELIANABodley.  I think I may still be able to reach his ghost…

MOKVAR:  I’ll see if I can dig up anything on my end.  When should we meet again?

DELIANA:  Tomorrow?  You know where…

MOKVAR:  <nods>  Be careful.

DELIANA:  You too.

Mokvar and Deliana walk cautiously back to their respective sides of the room.  The Alliance contingent begins to leave, while Mokvar appears to talk distractedly with Liadrin and Faranell.

GARROSH:  I don’t like the looks of this fraternizing with the enemy at all…

MOKVAR:  <aside>  I’ll talk to you later, Edwin.  I think I need a little air.

The lights dim on all but Mokvar as he walks away from the others and leaves.  He steps offstage for a moment, then reenters; a spotlight follows him around the stage as he wanders through Dalaran.

 

{LIANA}

MOKVAR:

A name I never thought I’d hear again…
(Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana)
Since we fled long ago from the heart of a dragon’s den…
(Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana)

Liana!
I saw her again: Deliana.
But now we are aghast:
A shadow of the past
Is here.

Liana!
Stay safe, my old friend Deliana.
We may have just delayed
The bane of the Veiled Blade,
I fear.

Liana!
Go and seek out the ghost of Bodley,
While I question my contacts broadly.
Liana,
This all played out oddly.
Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana,
Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana, Liana.
All our efforts we’d best redouble:
We might be in a whole lot of trouble.
Liana,
WTB pally bubble…
Liana.

A name I never thought I’d hear again…
Liana.

Blackout.  At Valiance Keep, Varian and the other Alliance members enter.

JAINA:  Are you really going to go through with this?

VARIAN:  Did I look like I was joking when I agreed to it, Jaina?

JAINA:  But one fight to determine the future of a whole continent?

SHANDRIS:  It does sound like quite the gamble, Highness.

VARIAN:  You sound like you don’t have faith in my chances against Garrosh, Shandris.

SHANDRIS:  Hellscream does not have the best track record with regard to honorable combat, Highness.

VARIAN:  Hence why I insisted we hold the duel in a setting where we can keep a close eye on him.

FALSTAD:  He’ll be tryin’ somethin’ fer sure, Yer Highness, just ye watch.

VARIAN:  At least in our own territory, we won’t have to worry as much about the place swarming with orcs.

VELEN:  Hang on – swarming with orcs?  That sounds like something the Legion would do!  The Legion isn’t back, is it?

VARIAN:  <rubbing forehead>  No, Velen, the Legion isn’t back.

VELEN:  You’d tell me, right?  I need time to pack.

VARIAN:  Believe me, the last thing I would ever do is get in the way of you packing.

JAINA:  Speaking of which, if you do lose, do you really plan for us to…go through with it?

VARIAN:  I made an agreement, Jaina: one battle, leader against leader, for control of Kalimdor, once and for all.  I intend to honor it.

TYRANDE:  I don’t much like this business of you gambling with the lands my people have called home for millennia.

VARIAN:  Oh, hush, Tyrande.

TYRANDE:  …

SHANDRIS:  Oh no he didn’t.

TYRANDE:  You are not nearly hot enough to get away with talking to me like that!

VARIANThe point is, I don’t intend to lose.  And then you’ll be happy I took up the challenge, when the forests of Ashenvale are no longer crawling with orcs.

VELEN:  Crawling with orcs!  That’s it, not taking any chances – I’m out!  Good luck, people.

Velen exits.

VARIAN:  <sighs>  Well, they don’t call him Bailin’ Velen for nothing, I suppose.

TYRANDE:  Wanting the orcs out is all well and good, but taking such an all-or-nothing risk…

SHAW:  Really, I don’t see what you’re so worried about.  I mean…it’s just Kalimdor.

TYRANDE:  Umm…what?

VARIAN:  Seriously.

SHANDRIS:  You…can’t be serious.

JAINA:  You realize they’ve both lived there for thousands of years, right?

FALSTAD:  Maybe ye could use a change o’ scenery, then.

VARIAN:  I’m not disputing it would be a loss, but it’s not as if there’s a lot over there that’s irreplaceable…

TYRANDE:  Are you not familiar with the World Tree?

SHAW:  The one that burned with Archimonde and…hang on…nothing happened?

JAINA:  I…don’t believe you three.

VARIAN:  Oh, don’t worry about Jaina.  She grew up in Kul Tiras and Dalaran but then she decided to go move into her own place and forget her old home.

JAINA:  Not true!  I remember it well.

 

{KALIMDOR}

JAINA:

Eastern Kingdoms:
A lovely visit.
I wouldn’t ever want to live it.
Greatest city there you found
Pulled itself out of the ground –
Dalaran’d rather float around!
Half the mountains burning.
Undead plague is churning.
I’ll take kingdom Theramore
(Well, till it ain’t there no more).

JAINA, TYRANDE, and SHANDRIS:

I like to be here in Kalimdor.
So much to see here in Kalimdor.
Make the orcs flee out of Kalimdor!

VARIAN:

Horde burning trees there in Kalimdor.

JAINA:

Winterspring sledding is so fun!

SHAW:

Look for a flight path – there ain’t none!

SHANDRIS:

Vast tranquil plains under blue sky.

VARIAN:

Barrens chat: listen once, you’ll cry.

JAINA:

Earn gold in Ratchet in Kalimdor.

FALSTAD:

Goblins will snatch it in Kalimdor!

TYRANDE:

Draenei chose to land in Kalimdor.

In the background, the Exodar flies by.

VARIAN:  <pointing a thumb at the ship>

Velen just abandoned Kalimdor.

TYRANDE:

Historic places in Felwood.

VARIAN:

Illidan screwed that up real good.

JAINA:

Caverns of Time sifting sand, ha!

SHAW:

One slip and you’re your own grandma.

SHANDRIS:

Ysera greets you in Kalimdor!

FALSTAD:

Devilsaurs eat you in Kalimdor!

TYRANDE:

Night elves defiant in Kalimdor.

VARIAN:

Roaches are giant in Kalimdor.

JAINA:

Out to the forests – a fun romp!

SHAW:

Forests?  You’re stuck in a damn swamp!

TYRANDE:

Titan creations in Uldum.

FALSTAD:

Those almost made the world go boom.

VARIAN:

So much frustration in Kalimdor.
Steak rules a nation in Kalimdor.
All your flirtation in Kalimdor!

JAINA:  <glares and draws a dagger>

You risk castration in Kalimdor.

VARIAN:

You should come back to Kul Tiras.

SHANDRIS:

Not on the map – do they fear us?

VARIAN:

Garrosh will strike if you don’t fly.

JAINA:

Yeah, sure, I’d like to see him try.

Blackout.  The stage is illuminated again, gradually, by fiery light, revealing the interior of Blackrock Mountain.  Mokvar enters, stage left, and walks amid the rubble and stone, looking around cautiously.

The stage lights become brighter as Mokvar nears center stage, illuminating, above, the balcony leading to Blackrock Spire.  From the entrance to the spire, Deliana enters, looking down.

DELIANA:  Mokvar!

MOKVAR:  <looking up>  Liana!  Are you all right up there?

DELIANA:  Other than a few bruises from the fifteen times I tried to hop over to this blasted balcony and missed?  Peachy.

MOKVAR:  Yeah, I’m not taking my chances.  Knowing my luck I’m liable to fall in the lava.

DELIANA:  Does anyone know you’re here?

MOKVAR:  No.  You can tell that by the fact that I am here, and not dead.

DELIANA:  <nods>  I had to sneak out as well… I suspect Varian would be none too pleased if he knew I was meeting you.

MOKVAR:  I’m pretty sure “none too pleased” would be the best case scenario with Garrosh.

DELIANA:  Have you found out anything?

MOKVAR:  Nothing very much.  I’ve had to be fairly careful with my asking around, so I haven’t been able to dig as much as I’d like.  I know Malkorok turned up in Orgrimmar some months ago, and rose through the ranks quickly.  But nobody seems to know where he came from.  Well, other than the obvious.

DELIANA:  <nods>  I can’t understand how he won Garrosh’ trust so quickly.

MOKVAR:  How did he win Rend’s?

DELIANA:  And how did that work out?

MOKVAR:  I know…  What about you?  Were you able to…?

DELIANA:  Yes…  <sighs>

MOKVAR:  The fact that you’re stopping there tells me it’s bad news.

DELIANA:  Not much to go on, but it doesn’t sound good.  I was only able to make contact briefly, but…there have been spectral assassins here.  Leaving the spire.  For the first time in years…

MOKVAR:  There’s…about half a dozen ways to account for that, and none of them are good.

DELIANA:  I know.

MOKVAR:  Anything else?

DELIANA:  That’s it so far.  <sigh>  I’d really hoped this was over years ago.

MOKVAR:  So did I.

DELIANA:  I suppose you reap what you sow, though, don’t you…

MOKVAR:  Yeah…  Well, what’s done is done.  Nothing to be done about it now.

DELIANA:  I know.  Still, I wish I could just go back in time sometimes.

MOKVAR:  No, you don’t.  Trust me.  It’s more headaches than it’s worth.

DELIANA:  What do we do now?

MOKVAR:  I’ll try to call in a few more of my contacts…I’ve got a few people still who owe me favors.  Check around too, if you can…

DELIANA:  I will.  I’ll find a way to contact you one way or another in the next day or two.

MOKVAR:  Be careful.  If the wrong people find out what we’re doing, they’re not going to care what it is we’re actually talking about.

DELIANA:  I know.  Watch out for yourself, Mokvar.

MOKVAR:  Have been for years.  Stay safe, Liana.

Liana nods, then waves, and disappears into the spire doorway.  Mokvar watches her go, looks around uneasily, and exits, stage right.

After Mokvar leaves the stage, a low whooshing sound is heard.  To the left side of the stage, near one of the large stone blocks, Garona unstealths.  She peers across the stage to the right side, a look of concern on her face, then stealths again.

The curtain closes.

 

{TO BE CONTINUED IN ACT 2}

The Roshy Horror Picture Show

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 12, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

Barnes walks back offstage following his introduction, as the ghostly audience applauds.

BARNES:  Go no now, they’re waiting for you!

GARROSH:  Um, the FUCK you say?

MOKVAR:  Do you mean we’re supposed to…?

BARNES:  As I said, your tale sounds like an intriguing one…

FARANELL:  Ugh, I always hated school plays…

GARROSH:  Yeah, fine, but…

BARNES:  And if you want my help with your Malchezaar problem, you’re just going to have to help me with tonight’s audience!

GARROSH:  You can’t seriously—

BARNES:  Now don’t worry, the magic of the Opera House will help you along as you go.

GARROSH:  But we—

BARNES:  Now go on!  There they are now, entertain them!

GARROSH:  Ugh.  Fine.

Garrosh sighs and reluctantly trudges out on stage, followed by the rest of the group.  The audience applauds their arrival.

GARONA:  <scanning the applauding crowd>  I could get used to this, actually…

MOKVAR:  So, uh, what are we supposed to do?

GARROSH:  Beats me…

BARNES:  <echoing from offstage>  Oh, all right, I can see you have a touch of stage fright, so I’ll help get you started…

Music begins to play as an enormous, disembodied spectral mouth appears at the back of the stage and slowly floats forward.

GARROSH:  <jumping away from the mouth as it moves up>  The FUCK?!

 

{DEMON HUNTERS TRIPLE FEATURE}

PROLOGUE (a.k.a. THE LIPS):

Some adventurers came; they were not seeking fame,
But our audience would rejoice.
They knew axes and runes, not so much spinning tunes,
But our magic here would give them a voice.

They came on a quest, ventured seeking to best
A demon that they call Malchezaar.
But their prey they can’t face, while he’s in Netherspace;
Why they seek him, well that’s quite bizarre.

Demon hunters triple feature:
Spectral patrons will fill the bleachers.
Here one night only: Hordies singing!
Improv performances, they’ll be winging.
Oh oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.

It’s a perilous tale!  Will our heroes prevail
As they journey the pathways of time?
At a dragon’s behest, everyone was impressed,
Though “Nozdormu” is a real bitch to rhyme.

But as they went along, something went wrong,
You’ll see, just wait for the surprise!
For they found themselves trapped as the worlds overlapped –
Watch it unfold now in front of your eyes!

Demon hunters triple feature:
Spectral patrons will fill the bleachers.
Here one night only: Hordies singing!
Improv performances, they’ll be winging.
Oh oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.
The stars will glow,
Oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.
An hour or so,
Oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.
So here we go,
Oh oh oh oh,
At the late night triple feature opera show.

The ghostly mouth fades away.  Garrosh and the others look back and forth awkwardly among themselves as the audience starts to murmur.

GARROSH:  Yeah…so…

MOKVAR:  What now?

BARNES:  <offstage>  You folks really aren’t used to performing, are you?

GARROSH:  Yeah, how about I drop you into a battlefield with no prepping and see how YOU do, spooks.

BARNES:  <sighs>  Well, how did everything begin with this adventure of yours?

GARROSH:  Well, Sylvanas reported this whole—

BARNES:  Don’t tell me, tell them!

GARROSH:  Oh.  <turns to face the audience>  Uh…yeah, so, Sylvanas came to me with this problem…

A ghostly likeness of Sylvanas Windrunner walks onstage and approaches Garrosh.

…and…well holy crap, look at that…

Music starts to swell again.  Garrosh looks around in confusion.

SYLVANAS:  Hail, Warchief!

GARROSH:  Um…okay…

SYLVANAS:  I’ve got something to ask…

GARROSH:  Uh…yeah?

SYLVANAS:

…of your leadership, in which we bask.
But now, I fear, I must beg a task.

GARROSH:  This is…kinda weird…

 

{OH GOSH, GARROSH}

SYLVANAS:

We need your help now, son of Grommash!

LIADRIN and MOKVAR: <together, flatly>

          (Garrosh.)

SYLVANAS:

You’re leading the Horde with such panache.
          (Garrosh.)
That Theramore thing, we’ll just whitewash.
          (Garrosh.)
So I need to tell you now,
Oh gosh, Garrosh,
We need you.

The problem we have I know you’ll squash.
          (Garrosh.)
Whoever’s behind it, you will quash.
          (Garrosh.)
If you pull this off, Aka’Magosh!
          (Garrosh.)
So I need to tell you now,
Oh gosh, Garrosh,
We need you.

There is something killing the Forsaken
In Southshore – details are still vague.
Something magic, if I’m not mistaken.
Oh, but don’t fret, we weren’t making plague.

Nope.  No way.  <glances around furtively>

GARROSH:

I asked for a contact; you said him.
          (Edwin.)
This Faranell guy, with the dead grin.
          (Edwin.)
Your Banshee Queen, she’s been beggin’.
          (Edwin.)
So let’s get to work now, Doc,
Come in, Edwin,
I’ll save you.

So, Edwin…

FARANELL:

Yeah?  <looking disturbed to find himself singing>  Oh gosh…

GARROSH:

Where to begin?

FARANELL:

Well…Garrosh…

GARROSH:

What to do?

One side of the stage fades into the likeness of old Southshore, while the other side takes on that of the Caverns of Time.

FARANELL:

We’re kind of screwed.
Here is what we’ve got to do…

We’ll travel in time – really, no josh –
          (Garrosh.)
To trace back this anti-plague death slosh.
          (Garrosh.)
Once it’s found, I’ll put the kibosh.
          (Garrosh.)
That covers it, I think, so
Oh gosh, Garrosh,
Time we flew.

Oh gosh, Garrosh…

GARROSH:

Edwin, no chin.

FARANELL:

Hey!  Gosh, Garrosh.

GARROSH and FARANELL:  <looking increasingly uneasy with all of this>

Wow, that blew.

GARONA:  So, hold on, how did you all know to…you know…sing that?

GARROSH:  I just kind of DID…

FARANELL:  That was…weird…

BARNES:  <offstage>  As I said, the Opera House glamours will help you along — now keep it going, you’re on a roll!

GARROSH:  My dad never had to do any shit like this to kill fucking Mannoroth…

MOKVAR:  Okay, so next…

LIADRIN:  <turning to the audience>  The mission to save the Forsaken in the past was a success…

The scenery on one side of the stage morphs from the appearance of Southshore to that of Orgrimmar.

…but when we returned, we found that the past had been altered…

GARONA:  <looking around>  Oh wow, this is freaky…

Around them, Orgrimmar flickers between its normal appearance and one torn by battle, with demons and Scourge running about.

MOKVAR:  You should have been there when it was actually happening.

GARROSH:  Right, so at that point…

Music begins to resonate through the hall.

DONTRAG:  Uh, I think it’s starting again…

FARANELL:  Aren’t we lucky…

 

{TIME WARP}

GARROSH:

Noz has spoken
Time is broken,
All thanks to Faranell.
Now what’s left for me?

LIADRIN:

Ask Soridormi.

MOKVAR:

Timelines have gone to hell.

FARANELL:

I remember
Being in Southshore
Up till that moment when
The blackness consumed me…

GARROSH:

Now this future will doom me!

ALL:

Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!

FARANELL:

I took a turn to the left.

ALL:

It should have been to the right!

FARANELL:

Bad news, everyone!

ALL:

No Putricide in sight!
And now the surging Scourge
Invade us from Northrend.
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!

LIADRIN:

It’s intriguing.

UTVOCH:

But mentally fatiguing…

LIADRIN:

With the demons blitzkrieging
We need a plan.

GARROSH:  <rushing in with Focusing Iris in hand>

Hey now, get out of my way!
We’re gonna fix up the timeways.
Hit the old Hillsbrad highways,
Back where it all began.

FARANELL:

Now I’m feeling regretful…

MOKVAR:

Wait till you get forgetful:
Those gaps in memory now and then.

GARROSH:

I see demons invadin’!

LIADRIN:  <drawing the Ashbringer>

I got dibs on Kil’jaeden!

ALL:

Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!

FARANELL:

Well I was running down the street
Toward the Southshore inn,
Had to tag myselves “it”
Much to my chagrin.
She’d told me the plan
And she seemed strong and wise;
She had a blood elf’s shape
And a dragon’s eyes.
I pounced myself and I felt displaced –
Time convulsing, snapping back in place.

ALL:

Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!

FARANELL:

I took a turn to the left.

ALL:

It should have been to the right!

FARANELL:

Bad news, everyone!

ALL:

The Legion joins the fight!
The fall of Orgrimmar –
It wasn’t if, but when.
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!

Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!

FARANELL:

I took a turn to the left.

ALL:

It should have been to the right!

FARANELL:

Bad news, everyone!

ALL:

There’s nothing here that’s right!
We’ve got to fix this mess,
So turn the years back ten.
Let’s do the time warp again!
Let’s do the time warp again!

Everyone collapses onto the floor for a moment as the lights dim, the surrounding scenery fades, and a dark curtain slides in close behind them.  After a few seconds, they begin to rise to their feet.

DONTRAG:  So wait, all that really happened?

UTVOCH:  What have I been trying to tell you?

DONTRAG:  Why don’t I remember any of it?

UTVOCH:  Donty, the stuff you don’t remember we could just about crowbar into Razorwind Canyon.

GARROSH:  Enough, you two!

LIADRIN:  But, that pretty much covers everything important, doesn’t it?

A rhythmic bass line and drum beat can be heard in the background.

FARANELL:  More or less.

GARONA:  Why am I still hearing music, then?

GARROSH:  Yeah, good question, shouldn’t it be show over at this point?

BARNES:  <offstage>  You’ll have to forgive me — while I was drawing on your memories for the show so far, well…there was just too much other great material to pass up!

MOKVAR:  Oh no…

GARROSH:  Oh crap, what have you people been remembering now?

A heavy guitar chord echoes through the hall as the dark curtain parts, and, from just behind Garrosh, Lor’themar Theron struts on stage, dressed in a full Black Mageweave set.  (And no, not the male version.)

GARROSH:  The FUCK?

 

{E-TRANSVESTITE}

LOR’THEMAR:

Greetings, orc-kind!
Hope you don’t mind
My dropping in for a call.
It’s always quite the same:
You forget my name –
I never once called you Thrall.

Don’t get freaked out
By the way I look;
Don’t rush to judgments too early.
I’m not much of a man
In the daytime sun,
But online I’m one popular girly.

I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.

Could you show me around?
Maybe help get this mob down?
Think you could spare me a dollar?
Or is your interest waning
In more dungeon chaining?
If you change your mind, give me a holler.

GARROSH:

Um, listen, dude,
I don’t mean to be rude.
I don’t want you throwing a fit.
You do your thing, fine,
Just…do it online.
No one needs to look at that shit.

LOR’THEMAR:

So you don’t like the sight?
Well now, you just might
Have met, in your times epicurean,
One hot sexy avatar,
Says she’s from Astranaar –
That night elf’s real name might be Malfurion.

I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.

Why don’t you free up your mind?
You won’t be maligned.
Just try to enjoy the eye candy.
I mean nothing malicious
In looking so delicious –
But trusting noobs really are handy.

I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.

Hey!  Hey!

I’m just an e-transvestite
From trade chat channel,
Playing Earth Online.

So, log on to play,
And look with dismay
At those female toons you’ve been observing.
But you’ve got those blinders
While in Dungeon Finder,
So I’ll dispel the veil…but not your perving!

As he delivers the last line, the curtain closes in front of him.  The audience bursts into raucous applause.

GARROSH:  Okay, what in the holy FUCK was THAT?

MOKVAR:  Well, you did call him out for playing a female toon…

GARROSH:  And also, THAT gets the ovation?

FARANELL:  Personally, I thought my bridge was pretty good.

GARROSH:  And a whole lot less discomforting…

Barnes walks out on stage with them.

BARNES:  A hand for our performers, ladies and gentlemen!

The audience applauds more.

GARROSH:  Okay, so we’re good now, right, spooks?  Ready to set us up with this mystery in of yours?

BARNES:  All in good time, sir.

GARROSH:  Wait, what the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?

BARNES:  <grinning>  Well as I said, sir, while I was casting the glamours, I took the liberty of poking around in some of your memories…and I’m afraid you all have far too much wonderful story material for me not to avail myself of the opportunity.

GARROSH:  Um…WHAT?

BARNES:  And we do still have another show to tend to after the intermission.  You and your friends are welcome, of course, to take the opportunity to rest and refresh yourselves…

GARROSH:  Intermission?  What intermission?

BARNES:  This one, sir.  We’ll resume with a new tale soon.

The curtain closes to mounting applause.

Fifteen seconds to curtain, Garrosh Hellscream

Posted in General, Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 11, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The good thing about Karazhan is that most of the spooks and monsters got cleared out a long time ago, so getting around in there is pretty painless.  Well, other than the fact that the place is fucking GIGANTIC.  Seriously, you look at it from the outside and you’re like, “Okay, decent-sized creepy-ass castle,” and then you go inside and it’s like “HOLY CRAP, it did NOT look this big from out there.”  No wonder Medivh hired a guy just to stand at the door and port people up, because I swear half of these old ghosts probably originally died from exhaustion just trying to get anywhere.

Lucky for us, the Opera House wasn’t that bad of a hike, especially with Garona with us to make sure we didn’t take any wrong turns.  It’s a pretty impressive place – high ceilings, mosaics, a giant chandelier, an enormous pipe organ set up on the far side of the chamber.  By the way, when we were first sizing the place up, I made the mistake of saying “enormous pipe organ,” which resulted in D&U taking seven full minutes to snicker like retarded fourteen year olds, until Liadrin told them to go sit in the corner until they could get their sit together.

Anyway, we went backstage, and eventually made our way around to the side door to the stage.  That’s where we found Barnes, the ghostly stage manager.

 

BARNES:  Ah, greetings, all of you!  Are you the new actors?

GARROSH:  Uh, yeah, not so much there, scooter.

BARNES:  Oh?  A pity.  You clearly have the strong jawline of a leading man.

MOKVAR:  Probably easy to pull that off when his face is half jaw.

FARANELL:  Sure, rub it in.

GARROSH:  You know, I’m not above leaving a couple extra ghosts here as a tip.

LIADRIN:  <aside to Faranell>  You were right.  It does become rather entertaining after a while.

BARNES:  Well then, ladies and gentlemen, might I ask what brings you to our humble theater?

GARROSH:  To tell you the truth, Barnes, it’s kind of a long story…

DONTRAG:  We’re trying to kill the most imperial and despicuous demon Malchazan—

UTVOCH:  I think you mean “despicable”…

DONTRAG:  —who we need to kill before he can—

UTVOCH:  And it’s Malazaar, I think.

DONTRAG:  Will you stay out of it, Ut?  I know what I’m saying!

UTVOCH:  Maybe so, but nobody else

Garrosh grabs Dontrag and Utvoch, smacks their heads together, and drops them onto the floor.

GARROSH:  …and there’s pretty much zero chance of getting the short version if we let those two get rolling.

GARONA:  Why do you even bring them places if you’re just going to treat them like that?

GARROSH:  Good point.  Related question: Why do I keep bringing YOU places?

MOKVAR:  That’s actually a fairly good blanket question.

BARNES:  So…erm…sir… I surmise your business here involves Prince Malchezaar in the tower…

FARANELL:  This one doesn’t miss much.

BARNES:  But, um… I’m not sure I understand why that would bring you here to the Opera House, sir, rather than to the upper levels.

GARROSH:  <sigh>  Right.  Well, the thing of it is, we need to find a way to get Malchezaar DOWN from the top floor, otherwise our…business with him won’t take.

BARNES:  <grins>  Ah, so you’re aware of the peculiar nature of the Netherspace, eh, sir?

GARROSH:  We’re in the know, yeah.

BARNES:  If I might ask, then, sir…is there a particular reason why you feel the need to kill the demon permanently?  He seems perfectly contained up there, and in a fairly out-of-the-way location.

GARROSH:  Because we know the Burning Legion stashed up there for safekeeping, until they’re ready to crack him out.  We want to make sure they don’t get the chance to.

BARNES:  Really… And…how do you know this, sir?

Garrosh exchanges looks with Liadrin and Mokvar.

MOKVAR:  Because we’ve seen what happens when they DO get him out.

BARNES:  <grins>  Now…that sounds like an interesting tale.

GARROSH:  Yeah, that’s kind of where the “long story” part kicks in.

BARNES:  I wouldn’t mind the abbreviated version, sir.

LIADRIN:  Caverns of Time, closed causality loop, accidental historical disruption, quantum reality splintering, demons in Orgrimmar, temporal incursion to re-seal trans-dimensional cracks.  You know, the usual.  Did I miss anything?

GARROSH:  …Head hurts.

BARNES:  Maybe…not quite that abbreviated, ma’am.  Or…technical.

DONTRAG:  <slowly getting up>  I think I followed the “demons” part, kind of…

GARROSH:  Anyway, the point is that we need a way to get Malchezaar out of his storage box up there, and we hear tell you theater types have some summoning mojo working for you down here.

BARNES:  Well, we do have some fairly considerable summoning spells here, sir…

GARROSH:  There we go, let’s fire it up, then, and—

BARNES:  …but those mainly consist of drawing images from the mind, I’m afraid, not actual physical summoning.

GARROSH:  Is it just an Azeroth thing?  You people saving the “no” part until after you’ve gotten everyone thinking “yes”?

BARNES:  Still… I think I may be of some help to you, sir.

GARROSH:  <pauses>  There isn’t a “but” coming here, is there?

BARNES:  Sir?

GARROSH:  Never mind.  I’m listening.

BARNES:  While I can’t personally do anything to help with the Malcheazaar matter…

GARROSH:  <rolling eyes>  “But.”

BARNES:  …there are certain other…sources of magical power on the premises that I could connect you with through the Opera House.

GARROSH:  Well what are we waiting for, spooks?  Hook us up.

BARNES:  Ah, but sir, first there is still a floor show for me to tend to.

GARROSH:  Uh, dude, priorities?  This is actually kind of real-life important here.

BARNES:  Oh, I understand, sir.  But you know the old saying: The show must go on!

Barnes opens the door next to him and walks out on stage.

GARROSH:  The hell is this about a floor show?

MOKVAR:  In an empty house?

FARANELL:  In the middle of the night?

As Barnes reaches center stage, hundreds of ghostly patrons appears in the Opera House seats and begin applauding.  A spotlight appears over Barnes.

BARNES:  Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this evening’s presentation!  Tonight, we present a special traveling troupe of performers to regale you with a terrifying tale of a world gone awry!  How did it begin?  Where will it end?  All this and more will be revealed, as our guests find themselves stranded in an ominous castle deep into the night!

And now: On with the show!

 

{THE CURTAIN RISES AT MIDNIGHT EST…}

Magical mystery tour

Posted in General, Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 10, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

Now that things have quieted down around here – granted, not quite as successfully as I might have liked – I’m finally getting around to a bit of business I’ve had in the back of my mind ever since that whole mess with the overlapping timelines.  See, if you remember, one of the reasons the Burning Legion was able to take out Orgrimmar so easily was that they had Prince Malchezaar tucked away in Karazhan, in that time-loopy Netherspace, so they could crack him out whenever they needed him and have him use one of Medivh’s old spellbooks to port them right in on top of us.  Which, if you remember, wasn’t exactly a fun time for the good guys.

Now granted, that timeline never happened for us now, but one thing that’s come out of it is that NOW, I know what Malchezaar is actually doing up there in Karazhan – basically sitting there in storage, on a permanent death-then-respawn loop, until the Legion turns up and needs him.  Which, by the way, I’ve got to say, as much as I hate the demons, that’s a job that has to take some stones to sign up for.  Assuming Malchezaar had any choice in the matter.  But can you imagine that?  Committing yourself to dying over and over, just to come back and die some more?  Can you imagine how much someone would have to believe in the cause to go along with something like that, and stick to it even after X number of go-rounds?

Anyway, point is, now I know what Malchezaar is doing there, and just importantly, I’ve seen first-hand the threat he could pose to the Horde.  So I think it’s high time we made it our business to neutralize that threat.  The one trick, though, is that we can’t just go up to the Netherspace where Malchezaar is hiding and kill him there – then he would just pop back up again as soon as the time loop resets.  Nothing accomplished there.  So we’ve got to find a way to get him down from there first.

And before you go suggesting one of us should go up there, shoot him, then take off down the stairs so he’ll chase us till he’s out of the Netherspace…come on.  Malchezaar’s a poncy fucker, sure, but he’s not a damn idiot.  He knows that as long as he’s up there he’s safe, and as soon as he leaves he’s vulnerable.  So I’ve got to figure he’d be smart enough to leash back to his home base as soon as he sees what we’re doing.  So we’ll have to come up with another way to yank him down from there.

But, bottom line – we’re going to Karazhan.

Since part of the mission is going to be finding or improvising a way to get Malchezaar down from the Netherspace, and it’s hard to say just what we’ll be up against in the process, I’m bringing a decent team with me.  And since the mission is largely based on what we learned in that other timeline, I’m first and foremost bringing the people who’ll remember that timeline with me: Mokvar, Liadrin, Faranell, and Utvoch.

Side note, speaking of which: I’ve talked to Mokvar and Liadrin since the whole time fiasco, and from what I gather, those of us who had gone on the original Southshore mission – the ones who were still aware of our original timeline when we started shifting into the other one – can still remember everything that happened with the two realities.  Mokvar remembers shifting back and forth with me.  Liadrin remembers becoming leader of the Argent Crusade and bearer of the Ashbringer.  Etc., etc.  Other than us, no one seems to remember anything strange happening – it’s as if the second timeline never existed for them.  Which, in a way, it didn’t, now.

I’m not exactly sure what Edwin’s perception of everything would be at this point, what with him being in kind of a unique position.  I’ll have to remember to ask him about that before we finish up with this.

Anyway, that’s the bulk of the group.  Since Utvoch is coming, I’m also letting him bring Dontrag along, because (a) Dontrag whined enough about not getting to come along last time, (b) the two of them are hard enough to separate under the best of circumstances, and (c) bringing one of them but not the other would require someone to figure out which of them is which, and let’s face it, that’s a crap shoot most of the time any way you cut it.

I’m also having Garona come with us, since she spent a fair amount of time in Karazhan back in the day, not to mention she had kind of an in with Medivh.  Or should I said, Medivh had…you know what?  Never mind.  She might read this, and I don’t need the headaches.

Meanwhile, while we’re off doing our thing in Karazhan, I’m leaving Malkorok to oversee the ongoing preparations for battle with the Alliance.  That and pay a little visit to Neeru Fireblade in the Cleft of Shadow.  Related loose ends.

So, I contacted everyone, and we all met up this morning in Stonard, then flew over to Karazhan.  When we first arrived, we found a roost for gryphons outside the upper tower, and we were going to leave our mounts there until we realized, hey, there’s actually no way to get DOWN from there once the mounts are settled, and also, who the hell sets up of flight point like that, seriously?

 

FARANELL:  Well, Medivh was probably thinking, if you can’t get down easily enough with Slow Fall, that’s your own fault for not having the good sense to be a mage.

 

Oh, shut up, Doc.  Of course Mokvar never misses a word of the smartassing when it happens.

Anyway, Garona remembered that there were stables just inside the gate, so we brought our mounts in with us to stash there.  While everyone was getting their wyverns and bats and (ugh) dragonhawks secured, Mortimer went sniffing around the stables – he doesn’t take too well to being strapped down anyplace, but he’s good enough about staying where he’s supposed to be that I usually let him wander.  While he was poking around, he found this ghostly horse in the back area – all spooky-looking with glowing eyes and flaming hooves.  The two of them took a couple minutes to check each other out, and then each of them seemed to decide that the other was okay.  When I came around to check on them, the horse apparently took a liking to me and started following me around until we strapped it into one of the pens.  So, yeah, another mount to add to the collection.  Whoopee.

Once we were done in the stables, we came back out to the foyer, where we found Berthold, Medivh’s old doorman, standing by the main stairway.  Or, well, the GHOST of Berthold.  Man, I don’t know what kind of contract some of these servants had with Medivh, but it must have been a doozy – they don’t even get to check out when they fucking DIE.  These people really should have joined a union or something.

Anyway, Berthold managed to get us going in a possible right direction…

 

BERTHOLD:  Ah, excellent!  Greetings, all!  The master hasn’t had guests in so terribly long!

FARANELL:  Do you think that maybe that could be because he’s dead?

GARROSH:  Heh.  You’ve got a point, Doc.

MOKVAR:  To be fair, so is this guy.

BERTHOLD:  Goodness…could it be…Garona?

GARONA:  Hey, Berthold.  Long time no see.

GARROSH:  Oh, that’s right, you would have known this guy from way back when…

BERTHOLD:  I remember your son coming here not so long ago, Garona… But surely, he couldn’t really be your son!  You couldn’t be old enough to be the mother of a boy his age.

GARONA:  I see you’re a flatterer as always, Berthold.

BERTHOLD:  I only speak the truth, my lady.  Time has stood still for you.

GARROSH:  Seriously?

GARONA:  What’s that supposed to mean?

GARROSH:  Never mind.  Forget it.

GARONA:  Just because I have a grown son doesn’t mean I’m ancient, you know!

MOKVAR:  Oh boy, here we go again.

GARONA:  It’s always the same with you, isn’t it?  If a woman isn’t jailbait…

GARROSH:  Remind me again how old you were when you paired off with old graybeard Medivh?

GARONA:  …What does that have to do with anything?

GARROSH:  Well hey, if I’m going to take crap about liking ’em young, I’m just wondering how far into the shallow end of the pool Mr. Last Guardian was dipping.

GARONA:  Fine – I happened to have a thing for older men at the time, okay?  Are you happy now?

GARROSH:  Uh huh.  And how much older are we talking?

GARONA:  I don’t see how that’s important!

GARROSH:  Hey, doorman dude.

BERTHOLD:  Yes sir?

GARROSH:  How long HAS it been since you’ve seen little miss charm school here?

BERTHOLD:  Well, sir…

GARONA:  You don’t have to answer that, Berthold.

GARROSH:  GO ON.

BERTHOLD:  About…twenty-five years, sir?  Give or take?

GARONA:  <sigh>

GARROSH:  Uh huh.  And by your best count, how old was Medivh at the time?

BERTHOLD:  About fifty, sir.  As best as I can figure.

GARROSH:  <smirking at Garona victoriously>  Oh yeah.  He loved you for your mind, I’m sure.

LIADRIN:  Don’t listen to him, Garona.  I think you look lovely.

GARONA:  Oh you stay out of this, twiggy.

LIADRIN:  I…  <blinks>  Okay, then…

FARANELL:  That moment when you realize Garrosh may actually possess preternatural patience.

DONTRAG:  Begging your pardon, Warchief?

FARANELL:  Case in point.

GARROSH:  Yes, Utvoch?  I assume this is… <sighs> …important?

DONTRAG:  Um, well, I’m actually Dontrag, sir.

UTVOCH:  I’m Utv—

GARROSH:  Both of you.

DONTRAG and UTVOCH:  Yes sir?

GARROSH:  How long have I known you?

MOKVAR:  I’m assuming you want something more specific than “too long.”

DONTRAG:  About a year now, sir?

GARROSH:  And in the past year, can you tell me one thing I’ve done or said that suggested to you that I gave so much as half a shit which of you is which?

UTVOCH:  No, sir.

DONTRAG:  Not really, sir.

GARROSH:  Okay then.  So what were you going to ask, Utvoch?

DONTRAG:  But I’m Dontr—OWW!!

GARROSH:  Half a shit, not given.  The question.

DONTRAG:  <rubbing his head>  Uh, well…it wasn’t anything important, sir.

GARROSH:  Yeah, like I couldn’t have guessed that from the get-go.  Moving on.

GARONA:  You’re so mean sometimes.

GARROSH:  You want to see mean, grandma?

GARONA:  I don’t know why I keep trying to help

LIADRINNot to interrupt…but might we try to focus on what we came here for?

GARROSH:  Yeah, good point.  So…

GARONA:  Oh sure, listen to her.

GARROSH:  MOVING ON.

FARANELL:  I really should have brought popcorn.

GARROSH:  Okay, so Berthold, you’ve been watching the door here for how long?

BERTHOLD:  Oh goodness, sir, longer than I can remember.  Ages.

GARROSH:  So you were here when Malchezaar and the other demons arrived some years back.

BERTHOLD:  Yes, sir.  Malchezaar, Illhoof, a few others.

MOKVAR:  Um, just thinking out loud here, but if you’re the doorman, wouldn’t it be your job to, say, not let those guys in?

BERTHOLD:  Well, I suppose, sir…in theory…but, well…I am a ghost.

GARROSH:  And?

BERTHOLD:  Well…I couldn’t really do much to stop them, what with my being noncorporeal and all.

GARROSH:  Uh, what about like the zillion and five ghosts that I’ve had attack me in places like this?

FARANELL:  Speaking from personal experience, I’ve never let being dead stop me from smacking someone down if need be.

GARROSH:  See?

FARANELL:  I mean, that’s just about standards.

BERTHOLD:  I…well…um, I don’t know what to tell you, sir…

GARROSH:  Okay, first, we’ll just update your title from “doorman” to “doormat” and move on.  So when you’re not doing a bang-up job on house security, what DO you do?

BERTHOLD:  Well, mostly I port people to the upper levels of the tower, sir.

MOKVAR:  Sounds like an exciting life.

LIADRIN:  Hmm, Berthold?

BERTHOLD:  Yes, ma’am?

LIADRIN:  Since you have the ability to use porting magic, is there any chance you could do the reverse?  Summon someone from elsewhere in the tower to here?

BERTHOLD:  I’m afraid not, ma’am.  I’m not sure anyone but the master possessed that kind of power over the premises here, at least not without special enhancements.

GARROSH:  Enhancements, like what?

BERTHOLD:  Well, for instance, sir, I believe there was a summoning circle off of one of the libraries that Illhoof used to use…

MOKVAR:  Probably only good for pulling demons from the Twisted Nether…

BERTHOLD:  …or there’s the Opera House, where the performers can summon…well, all manner of things, from what I hear.  Glamours mostly, I suppose, but one never knows with those theater types.

GARROSH:  Huh.  What do you magic types think?

FARANELL:  Hard to say without seeing what they have going on there.

MOKVAR:  Sounds like it’s mostly smoke and mirrors, really, but I’m not sure what else to suggest.

GARONA:  Medivh might have had some relics in the upper chambers that we could use, but I’m not sure, and we’d have to go past the Opera House regardless…

GARROSH:  Okay, sounds like we have something to go check on, anyway.

BERTHOLD:  Very good, sir.  When you go, please do give my best to Barnes, the stage manager.  It’s been ages since I’ve seen him.

GARROSH:  Huh.  Not for anything, but if you’re, like, Mr. Portal Guy, why couldn’t you port yourself up there to pay him a visit?

BERTHOLD:  I…goodness…now that you mention it, sir, I don’t see why not…

GARROSH:  Yeah, see?

BERTHOLD:  Why…I could portal myself…anywhere in the castle…  <eyes widening>  Ghost concubines, here I come!

Berthold waves his hand and teleports away.

GARROSH:  Huh.

MOKVAR:  He could have at least offered to send us to the Opera House first.

GARONA:  You men are all alike.  Even when you’re dead.

 

Okay, so, kind of a surprise ending there, but at least we’ve got a possible lead or two.  We’re making our way to the Opera House now, so with any luck we’ll dig up something useful.  If not, well, we’ve got a giant creepy haunted castle full of stuff to go rifling through.  Sounds like a recipe for success to me.

Stay tuned.

 

“Knock knock.  (Who’s there?)  Eugene.  (Eugene who?)  You, Jean, and I would make a lovely couple, don’t you think, Susan?”

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