Monday mailbag

So I was finally able to get a decent internet connection going again, long enough to get my mail sorted out, and I figured since I have a decent bunch of letters from you peeps, and I haven’t offered any mailbag love for a while, I might as well do just that.  Because you know me – your Warchief is nothing if not all about the love.

 

Hail, Warchief!

It’s my first weekend back in Silvermoon in I don’t know how long, and man, is the mood different around here these days. Whether you’re going to think that’s good news or bad news depends on how you interpret that.

Remember my first letter? The one where I was basically advocating high treason against the Regent-Lord? A lot of us used to be dissatisfied that he was doing a whole bunch of nothing. The impression around here, at least if you believe the spin from the Silvermoon Star-Tribune, is that the Regent-Lord’s approval numbers are way up since he started getting jiggy with it down in Pandaria. Yes, the Star-Tribune is calling what Lor’themar’s doing down there “decisive leadership” and “proactive management”. And the public seems to be buying it.

Either that, or they’re just glad that he’s somewhere else, and hoping he eats a Mogu hammer somewhere along the way. That’s the other way to look at it.

To be honest, I’m not sure which one I’m buying, yet. That’s something I’ll have to think about when I get back to Pandaria.

–A Concerned Citizen

Hey, ACC.  You know, my first reaction here is that people probably ARE a little happier about Lori because he’s been away.  Problem is, if that were true, you’d think that I would start finding him less annoying since he’s gone BACK to Silvermoon recently.  But…nope.  He high-tailed it out of Pandaria, then promptly made a big ol’ cluster fuck of that whole business with the sha box…and the less said about the sideshow going on in my Earth Online guild, the better.  I suppose it’s still a LITTLE less irritating, but only because I don’t have to listen to him live and in person.  At least until he comes strolling back down here again.

Also, not for nothing, but are you sure the reports in your little dorky newspaper are reliable?  Who’s doing the writing?  It’s amazing what a little propaganda can do for a ruler’s perception.  Or so I’ve heard.

 

Dear Warchief,

I’ve been following some of your interactions with Lord Theron and I was wondering if you limited your observations to him or if you think all Blood Elves are like that.

I’ve been in Pandaria just about since the beginning (but I can’t explain how Anduin got away–that was General Nazgrim’s job, not mine) and have tried to do my part for the Horde.  Also: Pandaren don’t seem to have barbers.  Anywhere.  Not a one on this damn continent.  You should give us credit for coming here anyways even with that sacrifice.

Respectfully,

–Vyrin Dawnstar, Shrine of Two Moons, Pandaria

P.S: If anyone told you about Anduin and the Temple of the Red Crane, I deny it all.  Not me.  Nope.  Must’ve been someone else helping him.  If that hasn’t been brought to your attention yet, please ignore this part.

Hmm…  Well, Vyrin, I guess that depends on what you mean by “all blood elves are like that.”  I mean, like what?  Spindly and break-easy-ish?  Because, well, sorry, but you guys kind of are.  A little too preoccupied with the uber-luxurious hair?  I refer you to your second paragraph.  (By the by, I think the lack of barbers in Pandaria is because the pandas just shed.  Can you imagine the cleanup crews you’d need in Silvermoon if the elves were like that?)  That said, I DON’T think all blood elves are like ol’ Eyepatch in the absolutely-completely-utterly-useless department.  I mean, Lady Liadrin has always struck me as pretty sharp and on top of things, and…um…okay, give me a minute here, I’m sure I can come up with a second example.

Hang on.

Um…

Okay, I’m going to have to get back to you on this, but seriously, I’ve got a…reasonably strong suspicion there’s at least one more I can name.

Also, though, what?  Anduin at the Temple of the Red Crane?  I’ve heard some scouting reports about that Red Crane place, actually.  I may have to do some followup on that place…

 

My Dearest Warchief,

That scar on your lip is so sexy. It makes you look very manly and tough. I’ve been wondering though how you got it. I’m sure there is some extraordinary tale of bravery and valor associated with it. I’d like to hear it.

Your devoted admirer,

–Wega

Hoo boy.  Here we go again with Wega.  So…yeah… For those of you who maybe haven’t noticed, Wega is talking about the scar I have on the right side of my upper lip:

So, okay, I know you’d probably figure I got the scar from some glorious battle, or one of the times I’ve squared off with Varian, or something else like that, but as it turns out, it was really more of a fluke injury.  One night about a year and a half ago, give or take, I was trying to reorganize some of my junk in Grommash Hold, and I was stashing a couple boxes of stuff on a high shelf.  While I was stretching up to reach the shelf, I lost my footing and fell over.  Now, ordinarily that wouldn’t have been a big deal, except it just so happened that Mortimer was there with me, and was curled up on the floor sound asleep.  Until I slipped and fell, and landed right on top of him, and he was so startled that before he knew what was going on, he snapped at me.  And, yeah, got a nice chunk of my lip.

So, that was fun.

Gotta say, though, in a way it was kind of endearing afterward – once Mortimer knew what was going on, he DID act all sad and apologetic, and spent the next few days following me around trying to make nice.  Once again, wyverns are better people than most people.

Now granted, having my lip cut open by wyvern fangs wasn’t exactly fun, but depending on how you look at it, I still don’t think I’ve gotten the worst of it from Mortimer.  That honor probably goes to Malkorok.  A few weeks ago, I was talking to Malkorok while I was getting ready to leave the Sanctum of Two Moons, then walked past him to the landing platform out front.  Mortimer was following along behind me, and just as he was passing Malkorok, Mortimer stopped, lifted one leg up…and fucking peed on him.  Oh man, you should have seen the look on Malky’s face.  Especially when I pointed out, “Dude, considering what that usually signifies for a wyvern, you LITERALLY just got owned.”

Heh.

Hehehe.

<snort>

 

Mr. Garrosh, sir!

I want to thank you for helping us DPS kids and, you know, stuff.

I have a question though.

What happened to all your hair? I saw pictures of you and you had hair at one time, but now you don’t. Do you plan to grow your hair again? How would you wear it?

–Ruekie, Shaman-in-Training, Domination Point

What is this, fucking “Everybody Ask Garrosh to Explain His Personal Appearance Week”?

Oh, wait, hang on, it’s one of the kids.

What is this, blankety-blank “Everybody Ask Garrosh to Explain His Personal Appearance Week”?  You kids – DO NOT read that first part from a couple lines up, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?

Anyway, yeah, Ruekie, I used to have a ponytail, right up through my time in Northrend.  I wore my hair like that going all the way back to when I was a kid.  To tell you the truth, it was pretty much the best of iffy options, as far as something I could do with my hair that would look maybe-sorta decent.  See, while Grom had a really thick, full mane of hair, I guess I must have gotten mine from my mom’s side of the family, because my hair was always fairly coarse and stringy and just…patchy all over my scalp.  Even as a kid, I pretty much had the beginnings of male pattern baldness going.  And really, it shouldn’t come as that much of a surprise that I wouldn’t have that great of a head of hair – you know the old saying, grass doesn’t grow on a busy street.

Anyway, the ponytail was just a way to yank it all together that didn’t look flat-out terrible.  Eventually, when I moved to Orgrimmar, I figured the hell with it and just cut it off.  Which first of all, is much more low-maintenance.  No more spending ten minutes every morning tugging it all together and trying to bind it up and then having the band be too loose so you start feeling it slipping out little by little all morning, or getting that one strand caught halfway through the pull-through and then feeling your roots getting pulled every time you look to one side, or…ugh, yeah, whatever.  Way easier this way.  Not to mention it’s way more practical in battle – it’s one less thing to get caught somewhere, and one less way for an enemy to grab you from behind.

Besides, much better to just embrace the baldness and go with it, rather than try to compensate with something that looks maybe-not-quite-terrible-if-you-squint-a-little.  This way, it just announces to the world, “Yes, I’m bald.  DEAL WITH IT.”  Confidence is very sexy, don’t you think?

(Maybe I shouldn’t have put it that way.  I can hear Wega scribbling out another letter as we speak…)

 

Heya Garrosh,

Cool little web form you have here.  Sometimes those techie goblins do have some good ideas.  (Not often, but sometimes.)

Anywho, my question for you this week is this: If you were to retire from warchiefin’ tomorrow, who would you choose as your successor and why?

Thanks!

–Kaija

You know, Kaija, this is actually a pretty decent question.  For all the good things about the Horde, we don’t really have a clear line of succession.  I mean, obviously if I were going to retire – presumably years down the road when I’m a gray-haired (FIGURE OF SPEECH, RUEKIE, DON’T GET EXCITED) old man basking in the triumphant glow of my many glorious victories – I would be in a position to sit back, think it over, and pick out an appropriate successor as Warchief.  But what if something happens before I have the chance to?  What if I get sick or injured?  What if somebody decides it would be a bright idea to throw me a surprise party for my 70th birthday, and the ol’ ticker finally gives out?  What if – I know this is a long shot, but still – what if I die in battle somehow before we even get to the wrinkly stage?  What then?  WHAT THEN, I ASK YOU?

So, it’s probably not a bad idea to put a little thought into who a good successor would be, and maybe establish that that person is next in line, just in case something happens.

And then, you know, make it very clear to that person that I’ve left the Kor’kron with special instructions to follow in the event that I should die under circumstances that are in any way even remotely fishy.  Such instructions including, but not limited to, the agonizingly slow execution of the successor, their siblings, their friends, their relatives, their next-door neighbors, and anyone who’s ever been seen being polite to them in public.

You know.  Just FYI.

Anyway, we might as well be systematic about this, so I’m going to review some of the likely candidates to follow me as Warchief – and just for shits and giggles, I’m going to group them into suitable categories and even give my best estimate at their odds of getting the nod.  Place your bets now.

 

THE “OH SNAP DID I SAY THAT” DIVISION

VOL’JIN
1,000,000 to 1

Not really an option, because guess what, bitches?  HE’S DEAD.  HAHAHA <snort> that cracks me up more than it probably should.

 

THE “I GUESS I’M OBLIGATED TO AT LEAST MENTION THEM” DIVISION 

JASTOR GALLYWIX
999,995 to 1

I mean…I guess he’s technically leader of the Bilgewater goblins, but… Well, like, does anybody even know where the fuck he IS half the time?  I’m pretty sure the only times I’ve ever seen him were at the meeting of Horde leaders to prepare for the Theramore attack, and the celebration in Orgrimmar afterward.  And, well, with the meeting, I pretty much sent notices to every goblin I could think of and then crossed my fingers hoping that word would reach him.  And at the celebration…yeah, mountains of free food and booze, so of course he was going to show up for that.  Honestly, I don’t get why the guy’s so low-profile.  He had a fucking pleasure palace built in Azshara, and you can’t even find him THERE.  Believe you me, if I ever commissioned the construction of Garrosh’s Pleasure Palace, you could call off the search parties, my ass would be there.

Hmm.  Hang on a second, I need to jot something down on next month’s agenda planner.

 

LOR’THEMAR THERON
500,000 to 1

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA… Yeah, sure, this guy as Warchief.  Do I really even need to elaborate here?  Come on.

 

SYLVANAS WINDRUNNER
200,000 to 1

You know, she would actually be a pretty strong candidate – to her credit, she IS intelligent, charismatic, and competent – if she didn’t creep the living FUCK out of everyone.  Not to mention make you worry that she might then replace that aforementioned living fuck with some kind of weird-ass UNDEAD fuck under her control.

 

BAINE BLOODHOOF
150,000 to 1

He’s a great warrior, he takes good care of his people, and you can practically see Cairne when you look in his eyes (not that that makes me at all awkward, no sir).  He’s also freaking Vol’jin Lite what with the bitching and the moaning and the OMG Garrosh how could you.  Because if there’s one thing you don’t want to stand for, it’s actually GOING TO WAR with the people you are ALLEGEDLY AT WAR WITH.  Last thing the Horde needs is a fucking carebear in charge.  And Thrall me no Thralls – Guy Smiley sat on his hands way too much too.

 

THE “I BET YOU DIDN’T THINK I KNEW ABOUT THIS MEME” DIVISION 

A BASIC CAMPFIRE
5000 to 1

HAHA SEE I BET YOU ASSHOLES DIDN’T THINK I HAD A SENSE OF HUMOR ABOUT THAT SHIT.

 

THE “DIDN’T YOU RETIRE LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO” DIVISION

DREK’THAR
500 to 1

Chieftain of the Frostwolf clan and friend to Durotan way back in the day.  Lived through the corruption of the orcs, but refused to drink the blood of Mannoroth – granted it was largely because Durotan ordered the Frostwolves not to, but it still shows a certain level of principle AND loyalty to his clan all at the same time.  Greatmother speaks about him just fondly enough to make me feel uncomfortable.  The main down side, other than being blind and spending most of his time getting rolled around in a wheelchair by Captain Galvanger these days, is that since the Cataclysm…well…not to be mean, but let’s face it.  Dude has just gone batshit senile.  And that’s not even getting into the whole thing with him shitting himself.  I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again.  Old age is not kind.

 

EITRIGG
200 to 1

He’s been around for ages, advised both me and Thrall, has watched over Orgrimmar while I’ve been down here in Pandaria, and has always been staunchly devoted to the well-being of the Horde.  If we had some kind of lifetime achievement award to dole out, I would sign him up for it tomorrow, even if he DID get a little grumbly with me over the Theramore thing.  Who didn’t, right?  Shows what those fuckers know.  Anyway.  The point is, though, as much as I like Eitrigg, he’s pretty much one of those guys who’s basically a permanent lieutenant.  You know the ones.  Year after year, they’re always second in command to one general after another, and somewhere along the line, after like the fourth guy gets promoted over them to take command, you realize there’s a reason for it.  Perfectly good at his job, but he’s just never going to be suited for the big chair.

Also, if he were in charge, can you IMAGINE how much time freaking Tirion would probably be spending in Orgrimmar?  Do you really want to subject people to THAT?

 

VAROK SAURFANG
100 to 1

Veteran of two wars.  Served as Thrall’s right hand and as my executive officer in Northrend.  He even served as acting Warchief for a little while, that time when I was off the grid.  At the age of nine zillion, he’s still one of the biggest badasses around.  He doesn’t sleep – he waits.  Death once had a near-Saurfang experience.  Mannoroth became more powerful by drinking HIS blood.  There was going to be a street named after him in Orgrimmar, but the plan was canceled for safety reasons because nobody crosses Saurfang and lives.  When warlocks make someone run away in fear, they pay a royalty to him.  He’s considered an honorary shaman because he commands the element of surprise.  I’m at least 50% sure some of these facts are made up.  But you get the point.

So what’s the case against?  You mean, other than at least two or three occasions that he’s threatened to kill me?  You mean OTHER THAN THAT?  Frankly, he’s a holdover from a Horde that’s a thing of the past – too old, too sentimental, too backward-thinking when we’re trying to move our people forward.  Too willing to extend an olive branch to the Alliance when we need to be smashing them over the head with the whole fucking tree.

Mostly the threatening-to-kill-me thing, though.  I don’t want to tempt fate.  (Along similar lines, by the way, fate doesn’t want to tempt Saurfang.)

 

THE “I MIGHT ACTUALLY CONSIDER PICKING ONE OF YOU PEOPLE” DIVISION 

WARLORD CROMUSH
50 to 1

This one is a dark horse candidate, no question.  But the dude did yeoman’s work in Gilneas when he had the thankless job of keeping Sylvanas marginally under control, he’s run a tight ship in Hillsbrad at a time when the Horde finally secured a firm hold on the region, and he’s been our primary command officer in the Eastern Kingdoms going on a couple years now.  The fact that he’s been able to work with the Forsaken with some measure of success is a major plus – yeah, they’re creepy and sketchy and just plain ol’ EEEESH, but they’re handy to have around.  He probably needs some more grooming for higher things, but he’s worked his way into the conversation for future high-profile assignments.

 

MALKOROK
25 to 1

You know, Malkorok really has most of the bases covered: he’s smart, uncompromising, and relentlessly devoted to the Horde, with a sharp tactical mind and an indisputable ability to get shit done.  He’s reshaped the Kor’kron, tightened up security, and demonstrated he’s one of the people you want fighting beside you on the battlefield.  Down side?  Well, let me put it this way.

About a year ago, some goblins tried to start up a business making wyvern food.  They did all kinds of tests to find a good formula for it as far as ingredients, they did focus groups to give it the most appealing packaging, they launched a huge advertising campaign for it and made sure it was easy to find at all the vendors…and absolutely nobody bought it.  How come?  Because for all the things they had going for them and all the effort they put into packaging it just right…wyverns just didn’t like it.

Draw your own conclusions.

 

GENERAL NAZGRIM
10 to 1

You all know this guy, and have probably worked with him on at least an occasion or two.  And really, if being Warchief was purely a military matter, this would probably be the guy.  He’s an excellent strategist and tactician, he adapts well on the fly, and since he came up through the ranks the old-fashioned way (I remember him serving under me in Northrend as a piddly-ass sergeant…and to put that in perspective, remember, freaking DONTRAG made sergeant), he appreciates what it’s like to be one of the grunts in the trenches and isn’t afraid to get in there and get his hands dirty by their side.  Okay, there was that whole disaster where he shit the bed on security and let Anduin get away, but maybe he can delegate.  But here’s the thing: being Warchief isn’t solely a military job.  It’s also the political head of the Horde, which means that as Warchief, Nazgrim would essentially be steering the ship of state.  And, well…we all know what happens when that guy gets near a ship.

 

WARLORD ZAELA
5 to 1

Leader of the Dragonmaw and a no-kidding-around badass warrior.  She took command of the Dragonmaw clan after helping to overthrow the nutjob “Warchief” Mor’ghor – gotta admire someone who has the stones to take down a corrupted leader for the good of the clan.  She was new to leadership at the time, and I’ll admit I was probably a little tough on her in my assessments early on, but she’s really grown into the role, and she’s been stepping up to work on some more projects for me the last few months.  I’ll also admit I might be swayed by seeing how she went about her business in that other world.  Still a little green, though…I mean, green in the “inexperienced” sense.  Not green in the fel-magic-drinky-drinky-demon-blood-grr-rarr-proud-ancient-culture-down-the-drain-oops sense.  Was that insensitive?  Anyway, she could probably stand to have a few more years working closely under the Warchief before she’s in line for the job herself.  But she’s definitely on the rise.

 

WARLORD BLOODHILT
2 to 1

Bet you didn’t see this one coming, did you?  Just goes to show what an outside-the-box thinker your Warchief is.  Hell, sometimes I’m so far outside the box that I don’t even know where the fuck the box is.  What box, anyway?  Fucking metaphors.

Anyhow, some of you might remember Bloodhilt from the southern Barrens, where he assumed command of our operations after former Warlord (and current zombie sous chef) Gar’dul managed to make a giant mess of things down there.  Bloodhilt cleaned up Gar’dul’s fuck-ups, secured our position in the area, and made it possible for us to make our move on Theramore.  Since then he’s made the trip with us to Pandaria, where he’s been commanding officer at Domination Point.  Just a solid, stand-up officer who’s done nothing but impress from day one.  Any way you cut it, you can get used to seeing his name cropping up, because he’s not going anywhere.

 

So, there’s your breakdown.  On that note, I’m going to call it a day as far as answering the mail goes, but keep those letters coming and I’ll try to answer more of your questions as time allows.  Since Spazzle’s form doohickey worked pretty well for this batch of e-mails, here it is again:

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The fine art of persuasion

So brace yourselves for this one – Lor’themotherfucker’s blood elves, who insisted I give them the chance to interrogate that mogu Shan Kien about the Divine Bell?  Guess what they turned up for us?  ABSOLUTELY NOTHING.

I know.  I’ll give you a minute to sit down and recover from the shock.

Recovered yet?  Okay.  Moving on.

Anyway, after I’d given the elves time to establish yet again how completely and utterly USELESS they are, I sent orders for them to deliver Shan Kien over to the Kor’kron up in Kun-Lai summit.  By this point, Regent-Lord Eyepatch was back in Silvermoon on his prolonged post-sha-box crying jag, so I had the good fortune not to have to deal with a whole lot of complaining and protesting from his people when I sent the order.  I had Malkorok go up with his Kor’kron to receive the mogu at Garrosh’ar Advance – a small base we’d set up a ways north of Eastwind Rest – and wait for my arrival.

When I got there, by the way, Malkorok managed to get himself into another one of his cranky moods.  He was eating his lunch at the table we’d set up at the camp, and when I arrived he turned away from it to order the Kor’kron to bring Shan Kien out for me…whereupon Mortimer wandered over and, yep, you guessed it, polished off Malkorok’s food.  Mortimer seemed only too delighted — then again, who can blame him, seeing as I think that sandwich had bacon on it — although Malkorok was not pleased.  But I think he kept himself reined in since he could see what a kick I got out of the whole thing.

Of course, as I was getting ready to leave the Sanctum of Two Moons with Blademaster Ishi, Baine overheard where I was going and decided to tag along to keep an eye on things.  Because…well…I don’t know, I guess he thinks that when you’re dealing with an agent of a malevolent enemy bent on world domination, it’s really super important that you be nice to him.  Or something.

I’ll grant, though, Baine did turn out to be handy.  I put in a little time trying my own brand of charm and persuasion on Shan Kien, but after a while my knuckles were getting sore, and that was when Baine suggested we use some Pandaren concoction called Memory Wine that would let us peek into Shan Kien’s memories and see where the Divine Bell had been hidden.  Which, by the way, um, WHY DIDN’T HE MENTION ANYTHING ABOUT THIS STUFF BEFORE YOU KNOW I BET THAT SHIT WOULD HAVE BEEN HANDY DON’T YOU THINK GUYS?

Ugh.

So, we got a volunteer to try out the Memory Wine, and got a peek of Shan Kien sealing up the Divine Bell in a mogu tomb somewhere along a mountainside.  The whole thing went surprisingly smoothly, other than the fact that while we were using the Memory Wine, it seemed like every couple minutes we had problems with the yaks we had with us suddenly running around all spooked.  Which started getting on my nerves after a while.  Anyway, since Gurtash is sort of our resident artist, I’m having him flown up to work up some sketches of the place to help guide the search parties.  I’m having Ishi stay up here to organize the scouts and coordinate.  Meanwhile, I’m going to check in at Domination Point and maybe look into a contingency plan or two.

Shadow boxing

Well, this just goes to show what I know.

After our whole SNAFU with the sha claw, Regent-Lord Eyepatch went back to Silvermoon to personally supervise his people’s study of that sha box we recovered.  Before he left I tried to impress on him the importance of that project (I believe my exact words were “This is actually important, unlike everything else you’ve ever done in your life, so try not to make a giant fucking mess this one time, Lori”), and after leaving him to his devices a couple days, I sent some people up to Silvermoon to check on him and try to prod things along.

I just received a report back from Eyepatch.  And so, remember last time, how uneasy I was about having to rely on the blood elves for all these important jobs?  All the angsting I was doing over whether they could pull this off, rather than defaulting back to their standard “giant fucking mess” M.O.?  Well, after all that handwringing I was doing, you would probably expect Ponytail’s blood elves to find a way to pull off some spectacular new level of fail.

AND YOU WOULD BE RIGHT.

Let’s even set aside the fact that Ponytail started out crying about how anyone who tried to probe the box magically ended up being affected by powerful, negative emotions, because hey, it’s totally fair for him not to think of that possibility what with him being RIGHT HERE WITNESSING THAT VERY SAME THING HAPPENING WITH THE KOR’KRON NOT THREE DAYS AGO.  But then, we’ve long established that these blood elves aren’t exactly world-beaters when it comes to seeing things coming (DRINK).  So, moving on, witness fuckuppery the next: even AFTER having these problems with the crazy outbursts, Ponytail’s peeps kept plugging away, and ended up releasing some kind of sha creature that had been sealed in the box.  In a room with a couple of his mages and a handful of guards.  And nobody else.

So okay, let’s recap that for those of you keeping score at home.

AFTER traveling around some of the sha and mogu sites in Pandaria…and AFTER being on hand for our failed Kor’kron experiments with the claw… Eyepatch brought the box back home to Silvermoon…so he could stick it in a basement with minimal guard and a grand total of two magic-users on hand to work on it.  And then released a beastie that proceeded to kick the snot out of his generously snotty elves.  To the point that if some of MY people hadn’t been on hand to save the day, that sha thing might still be running roughshod over Silvermoon and we’d be having to get Sylvanas to send a task force over to bail them out.  (And by the way, don’t think for a minute that THAT wouldn’t make half the blood elf population drop a brick in its collective panties – HEY LOOK GUYS THERE’S AN ARMY OF UNDEAD HEADED THIS WAY OH SHIT NOT AGAIN.)

I mean, there are at least half a dozen reasons why that’s just a spectacular steaming heap of fail, but the winner right off the top of my head, I think is… WHY DID YOU EVEN BOTHER BRINGING THE DAMN BOX BACK TO YOUR HOME CITY if you weren’t going to positively SURROUND it with an entire fucking LEGION of your very best troops?  You go to all that trouble for like five guards?  Hey, guess what, Eyepatch, we could have put our sha junk under the watch of five random assholes right here in Pandaria.

LIKE HEY HOW ABOUT THESE GUYS EVEN, REMEMBER THEM?

So yeah, this is what Lori is crying about this week.  Well, today.  The week is still young.  Meanwhile, he’s already sent me four messengers, with each of the last three delivering an extra addendum to his written bitch-and-moan fest.  They’ve been arriving every couple hours, so I’m just imagining him sitting around in whatever palace he has up there (I’m guessing pink features heavily in the décor), sending off a letter, and then as soon as the messenger leaves, grabbing another parchment like “AND HERE’S ONE MORE THING!”

I did send him a response back to the first one.  Although…just to amuse myself, I addressed it to “That guy in Silvermoon, you know, the one with the poofy hair.”  I’m not sure which thought amuses me more: the amount of time it’s going to take them to narrow it down to Ponytail, or the look he’s going to get on his face when he sees it.

I know, I know.  I’m a stinker.

More soon.

“‘Lori’? Seriously?”

Sha-touched

So of course, since Baine arrived here in Pandaria, he managed to get here just in time to bear witness to a frigging spectacular FUBAR with our efforts to make use of that sha claw.  And naturally, Regent-Lord Ponytail had to be on hand too so I could have a nice bitch-and-moan one-two punch.

Like we’d guessed, infusing soldiers with at least some measure of the claw’s sha energy was simple enough.  For these initial experiments, I didn’t want to leave much to chance, so we brought in a half-dozen Kor’kron for the tests.  The idea is that the Kor’kron are the best of the best within the Horde ranks, so they would be most likely to have the strength of will and discipline to maintain control over the sha influence – and these particular Kor’kron weren’t even your garden variety.  I had Malkorok hand-pick the very best of his people.  Razors.  If anyone was going to keep their shit together, it would be them.

Well, those Kor’kron may have been razors, but we wound up taking some razor burn.  All of the soldiers we exposed to the sha claw suffered some severe changes to their behavior.  Some became extremely temperamental.  Some were listless and depressed.  Some turned antsy and paranoid.  And ALL of them became prone to violent outbursts playing off of whatever other mood swings they were going through.  With the help of a few adventurers who happened to be on hand, we managed to slap some sense into the Kor’kron, but that doesn’t change the fact that the whole experiment went down as a pretty dismal failure.

And of course, cue Baine and Ponytail griping and crying and complaining, with an extra side order of holier-than-thou from Baine and estrogen from Ponytail.

I seriously need to find some better fucking minions.

Anyway, it’s becoming pretty painfully apparent that unless Lor’thefucker’s people back in Silvermoon make some breakthrough with the sha box they recovered, we’ve got everything hinging on us finding the Divine Bell so we can gain better control of this sha power.  Which means we’re majorly counting on the blood elves who are working on interrogating Shan Kien.  Which means, any way you cut it, we’ve got everything riding on Ponytail’s people.

Fuck.

Did I mention I SERIOUSLY need to find some better minions?

Underground farmer’s market

While I’m waiting to hear from the Reliquary elves on their latest dig site up in Kun-Lai Summit, I decided to have a look around some of the neighboring areas.  Before I came to Pandaria, everybody seemed to be going apeshit over the crazy overflowing farmlands here, and since the Valley of the Four Winds is pretty close by, I figured I’d take a trip down there with Malkorok and the DPS trainees to check it out for myself.

It really is a nice area down there, I’ve gotta say.  Kind of reminds me of Nagrand, in fact, what with the grassy plains.  Most of the region is covered with farms, and let me tell you, the folks writing in to the mailbag WERE NOT KIDDING about the giant vegetables they’ve got going on down here.  Which would be a lot more exciting, granted, if they weren’t, y’know, frigging VEGETABLES.

At one point, I was standing in front of this gigantic carrot that was sprouting out of the ground – like, just the exposed part of the carrot was at least twice as tall as me – and I was saying to the kids how I don’t get the point of having giant-size carrots like this, unless they’ve got giant-sized rabbits to feed around here.  And yeah, I know I’ve made that joke before, but check it out – no sooner had I said that, than A GIANT-SIZED RABBIT came hopping out of a burrow and jumped us!

Now granted, it’s not like this thing was especially hard for me and the kids to kill.  (To tell the truth, the trainees mostly worked on a bunch of smaller rabbits that came bouncing on in during the fight, but hey, practice is practice.)  So, on tonight’s menu: giant roast rabbit.

You know, I think I’ve just found a reason why these giant vegetables might be a good thing after all.  Big huge vegetables = big huge herbivores = BIG HUGE MEAT.

Hmm.  I should probably rephrase that last part.  Jaina might see it and get excited.

Anyway, I figured hunting some of the smaller rabbits – which I guess aren’t quite rabbits, but something the pandas call “virmen” – might make for good practice for the trainees, so I spent a little time going into the burrows with them.  The kids are coming along…still a little klutzy, but nothing that more reps won’t fix.  Malkorok thought we were wasting our time with all the rabbit hunting, but hey, the kids have to start somewhere.

We went around the valley for a while, poking into those burrows when we found them.  Then, after a while, we found what I figured was another burrow in the side of a hill – only when we went in, there weren’t any virmen anywhere to be found.  The burrow ended up being a tunnel that led pretty far underground, and as we followed it down, eventually we started hearing some kind of activity in the distance, and could see light around the bend.  When we finally got to the end of the tunnel…well, check this out.  You’re not going to believe this one.

The tunnel opened to a large room, lit by lanterns hanging from the ceiling.  All through the room there were rows of workstations set up with computers, and every one of them was manned by a panda.  Mostly kids, from the looks of it, if not all kids.  They were all busy working on something on the computers and hardly even noticed us when we came in.  Then we started wandering up and down the rows and peeking in on what the pandas were all so locked-in on working on.

They were all playing Earth Online.

Wait, did I say “playing”?  Not so much PLAYING, as…well…farming dollars in-game.  And then some of them seemed to be on the sales end of the business, hanging out in the capital cities and spamming trade chat with their ads.  Seems like the ones who were doing that all had a couple pre-set chat-spamming macros with their set announcements.  You know the ones…

[Trade]  Plz pay attention to the hot news! Happy weekend and all our friends. For customer in celebration old and new, we special offer on dollars! Now only 1000g = $250$dollar !!! Welcome to WWW. dollardollarbillyall .COM !! Come on!

So yeah, THAT’S where all those motherfuckers come from!  Messed up, right?

Obviously I wasn’t going to leave THIS little operation going.  I tried explaining my low-grade freak-out over it to Malkorok, but he’s not a gamer and doesn’t understand why I waste my time on that stuff anyway, and I’m pretty sure he didn’t really follow when I tried to spell out to him what these people were doing.  I think he pretty much stopped trying to grasp it after he got to the “they’re doing something that Garrosh apparently does not like” stage, and recommended we just kill them.

Meanwhile, one of the trainees, this budding shaman named Ruekie, was already working on a less deathy solution: she started going around talking to the panda kids, and found out they were getting paid like 6 copper an hour for this gig.  (I know, right?)  So then SHE pointed out the (pretty damn modest but way more than 6c/hour) allowance that Horde trainees get paid, and woo boy, did THAT news spread like wildfire through the room.

So, bottom line, within about 20 minutes we had several dozen panda kids asking to sign on as trainees, and bouncing around on their chairs yelling “For the Horde!” once we’d finished signing them up.  Burzum, Ishi, and Krimpatul are about to have a whole lot more mentoring work on their hands than they were probably counting on.

And I didn’t even have to offer to let them punch me in the face.

(Fuck you, Varian.)

Monday mailbag

I arrived a couple days ago here at the Sanctum of Two Moons, and I’ve been getting settled in and learning the lay of the land since then.  While we have a little break in the action, I figured this might be a good time to dip into the ol’ mailbag…

 

To Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde:

Call off the search patrols!  I’m ok!

I know everyone must have been sick with worry the last few months since my sudden disappearance, (my colleagues up in Northrend must have been particularly disturbed by my absence); however, I can reassure you all that I am finally safe and sound.

Where have I been, you might ask?  Ah, friend, that is a tale indeed!  A tale of wonder and adventure!  I was swimming with the Orca folk in the northern oceans and discovered a new shape-shifting technique that permitted me to assume the very form of a noble whale person myself.  Wearing my new visage, I was able to communicate with them in their own language — a very melodious tongue with beautiful but complex rules of grammar — and became assimilated into their culture.

Engrossed in my cetacean studies, I lost track of time and eventually track of my own self.  I forgot my previous life as a Night Elf and the thought of living on land became as alien to me as the thought of drinking fire would be to any but a fire elemental.  I lived as a whale; I laughed as a whale; I loved as a whale; and finally I migrated south with the rest of my pod.

O! What a journey that was!  The tales I could tell of the fantastical denizens of the deep!  But alas!  I have not the space here to elaborate further.  (Look for my upcoming book on my experiences, working title: “Darling it’s Better Down Where it’s Wetter”.)

But all good things must come to an end.  There was an enormous storm, the violence of which penetrated even the depths of the sea.  I was separated from my pod and flung about at the mercy of the waves.  At last I was washed up on dry land and lay helplessly beached, drying out in the sun.  I looked death in the eye that day and all hope left me.  At last I fell unconscious and lay senseless on the shore.

When I came to I was surrounded by curious creatures.  They looked like some sort of Furbolg, but were covered with black and white fur from head to toe and called themselves “Pandaren”.  They clothed me and helped me to my feet, at which point I realized that I was a Night Elf again.  All my memories came flooding back.  I was my full self once more.

I spent a few days in the care of these kind Pandaren.  They told me many fascinating stories about this previously unknown land and informed me that many other peoples from both the Horde and the Alliance had recently arrived and made contact with them.  And so I am writing you this missive to allay your fears about my welfare.

Also, could you please lend me a small amount of gold and arrange transportation for me back to Northrend?  I seem to have misplaced all my possessions.  Thanks.

–Arch Druid Lathorius, D.E.H.T.A.

Huh.  Okay, so…I’m going to set aside the fact that Lather-on-us here seems to think he and I are buddies or something, because hey, as long as he thinks I can stand the sight of him, maybe that helps tone down the whining and complaining and protesting every time I try to eat a ham on rye.

So setting that aside…  Dude, you were missing?  Was I supposed to notice that shit?

Actually, come to think of it, you WERE all AWOL that time I went to check in with your DEHTA flunkies, weren’t you?  But man, that was AGES ago – were you seriously out mucking around with the fishes all that time?

Still, funny that you would wind up landing in the same place that everyone else has been converging on lately.  Especially since it’s the same place that was hidden and cloaked in mists and totally unreachable and inaccessible to anyone for every and ever for like thousands of years until everybody and their uncle started winding up there like a month ago.  I would say it’s what all the cool kids are doing, but, you know, that doesn’t really help explain YOU being here.  Or Varian.  Or…well, pretty much anyone other than me.  But whatever.  OH HEY, actually, you know one other cool kid who HAS turned up here in Pandaria?  Hemet Nesingwary!  You know him, right?  Small world.

As for the gold… Yeah, um, I think you’re gonna need to scrape together cab fare for yourself.  I gave at the office.  Maybe see if you can do some busywork for the Anglers in exchange for a little pocket change?

 

Warchief!

I’m guessing your blog has been lagging behind while you venture into Pandaria.  I recently encountered you in the Shrine of Two Moons during your visit.  Unfortunately, I was under the influence of a Blingtron 4000, and looked like a human instead of a proud Horde member.  See the attached photos for how poorly this went for me.

Enjoy the rest of your trip!

–WookieeBH

Yeesh, dude, what’s up with the “lagging behind” shit, I only just got here a couple days ago.  I do remember you, though, Wookiee – among the many random asshats who swung by to make my day more tedious, you and your little getup were especially asshattery.  Although I did kind of get a chuckle out of it when your dog or hyena or whatever took a dump on Malkorok’s boots.  Dude gets so grumpy about things.  Heh.

Anyway, as you can see from the pictures, I’ve been hanging out at the Sanctum of Two Moons for the past couple days, which let me tell you is a pretty boss place.  Unfortunately, I only had a couple hours to enjoy it before I was joined by – as you can also see from the pictures – our old friend Regent-Lord Hair-Care.  Whose mood, by the way, hasn’t improved much lately.  Only, get this – in light of some of the slapping-around I’ve had to give him lately, now he feels the need to bring company everywhere he goes:

This would be Ellendra Palescorn…his bodyguard.

Yes, his bodyguard.

I swear, only among the blood elves would it go over as a plan to be like, “You know, I really need someone to help keep my scrawny, twiggy ass safe”…and then hire someone scrawnier and twiggier.

Thank goodness they’re good at magic, is all I’m gonna say.

 

Hey mon,

I still can’t believe Vol’jin be dead, mon!  But I betcha he always gonna he wit us in spirit.  I can practically feel his spirit wit me now, mon – it’s almost like he be right here writin’ dis letter wit me!

I know ya got ya Kor’kron people down here in de Echo Isles ta keep us safe, mon, but I don’ be likin’ dis Gul’tar guy dey got in charge.  I’m tellin’ ya, sometin’ bad gonna happen wit day guy!  If ya be askin’ me, I tink ya betta keep a close eye on what he goin’ on down here.  Wouldn’t want sometin’ slippin’ between da cracks, ya know, mon?

–Bob, Echo Isles

Oh, great, this guy again.  And so of course, just as soon as I get ONE grumbling troll out of my hair, ANOTHER one pops up to take his place.  Almost like Vol’jin isn’t gone at all, indeed.

Actually, come to think of it, I don’t think I’ve mentioned that before, so just in case you’ve been living under a rock the last couple weeks…you remember that mission I’d sent Vol’jin on when he first got to Pandaria?  Yeah.  Didn’t go so well for him.  Boo hoo.  Moving on.

So anyway, Bobbo, sorry if you don’t like the cut of Gul’tar’s jib, whatever a jib is, but you know what?  I’m not going to waste my time trying to micromanage every move my people make down there.  If Gul’tar needs anything, I’m pretty certain he’ll let me know, and if anything important is going on there, I’m damn sure they’ll send word to me about it.  So until I hear something from them, I’ll be keeping my nose out of the goings-on down in the Echo Isles, which is a good thing what with the smell down there because WTF are you trolls burning all the time anyway?

 

(the parchment appears to have been chewed on a bit on one corner and has a few smears of dark mud at the bottom)

Hail Warchief!

I am writing to you to apply for the position of scribe. I have been taught in the very best tents of Thunder Bluff. I am a tauren, albeit a bit small, and that wet dog smell is a condition I have. Some say I appear to be wearing a badly made tauren suit, but that’s hurtful because I got these stitches in service to the Horde! I wish to put my skills to use serving my Warchief! I feel that I would be best suited for this position given my extensive linguistic skills and utter loyalty. After all, you can’t be too careful these days. There could be Alliance spies anywhere. As a professional tracker I could help with this also. Afterall, it’d be ashamed if anything….happened. I hope my Warchief finds me worthy of being right by his side.

–Legit Tauren Scribe

Hey, LTS, thanks for writing in.  I’m glad people are still showing interest in the scribe position after that…erm…mixed-results audition thing.  Right now I think I’m going to see how things work out with Gurtash covering the scribing, in his own doodly sort of way, but I’ll definitely keep you in line.  It wouldn’t hurt at all to have a couple competent backup options, in case the kid gets too busy with other assignments or what-have-you.  That said, with any luck it won’t be too long before Mokvar’s back on the job, assuming we can get his weird-ass marked-for-death situation under wraps sometime soon.

 

To Garrosh:

Reporting in re: your special assignment.  As per your request, have been maintaining stealthed surveillance on Mokvar in order to provide additional protection in light of recent attacks.

Have come across unexpected complications.

While in Winterspring with his panda friend, Mokvar was seen meeting with an unidentified human woman.  The two seemed very familiar; shortly thereafter embarked together on journey to Darkwhisper Gorge.  Seen scouring cave formerly occupied by now-deceased imp,  Appeared to be searching for something; overheard references to relic of some kind, demonic power, domination of wills.

Will continue to monitor Mokvar’s activities and continue protection against attackers until further instructions received.

–Garona Halforcen, Everlook

The…FUCK?

So hang on, I worry about Mokvar’s safety to the point that I assign one of the best rogues in the business to follow his ass around and look out for him while I’m away…and THIS is what I get for it?  Meeting up with some HUMAN?  Sneaking around trying to do spirits know WHAT?

Yeah, this…this is NOT going to be good for my mood, let me tell you that right now.

In fact, I think on that note it’s time for me to step away from the computer for a few.  And possibly go smack someone or something around for a little while.

More soon.

EPIC anti-motivation

Just a quick follow-up today on yesterday’s post.  Since Gurtash really did manage to capture the…difficulties of being Warchief around this particular cast of characters, and some of you seemed to pick up on it, I thought I’d provide you with a little bonus material.  So here, first and foremost:

 

And here:

 

I’m getting ready now to take a trip up to the Shrine of Two Moons, up in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms.  Malkorok has been up there advance-scouting things along with the Reliquary crew.  It’ll be interesting to see what they’ve dug up.

More soon.

Demonology Anonymous

Now for the hard part.

I left out a few details last time about my past with the Veiled Blade, and everything that’s been going on recently.

I said before that when we killed Lord Valthalak, we took his spellbook along with the pieces of an amulet that ended up bringing the spectral assassins down on us.  But there was one more part of the spoils: a demon relic called the Nether Prism, a crystal that could be used, among other things, to focus fel energies and dominate the will of demons.  I was a warlock back in those days, and I arranged to have the prism included as part of our deal with Malkorok.  I wanted to see how much the Prism could be used to augment my powers.

I thought I could handle it.  I thought wrong.

The Prism magnified the power of my spells for sure, and for brief windows of time I could use it to control powerful demons.  At least more powerful than the dime-a-dozen ones that your garden variety warlocks can summon.  In more powerful hands than mine, I suppose it could have been used on even greater ones.  But if there’s one thing I learned, it was that I was nowhere near warlock enough to master the energies that flowed through that crystal and keep them under control.

It became pretty clear to me that I couldn’t afford to keep toying around with the Prism.  The problem was, though, that it wasn’t going to be as simple as sticking it in the back of the sock drawer and forgetting about it.  The Nether Prism radiated fel energies.  Demons were drawn to it.  And using its magic to deal with the demons when they turned up would just make it radiate more.

As if life wasn’t already too complicated, it was at this point that I learned Valthalak’s spectral assassins were making short work of the rest of the Veiled Blade.  I couldn’t keep taking my chances running around from place to place alone.  So I turned to Thrall.  He offered me sanctuary in Orgrimmar; all he asked was that I be on hand to aid the Warchief when needed.  I only ever told him the barest details about my past.  I never said a word about the Nether Prism.  Thrall was only barely willing to tolerate the presence of warlocks in Orgrimmar at all, given the orcs’ history; I couldn’t imagine he would have been willing to take me in if he’d known the whole story.  It’s hardly a coincidence that that was when I abandoned demonology altogether and took up shamanism.  I wasn’t about the bring dishonor upon the man who’d given me a safe haven, or overstay my welcome.

So, the Nether Prism had to go.  In the last days before I moved to Orgrimmar, I traveled to Darkwhisper Gorge in Winterspring.  Hidden away in a cave there was an imp named Vi’el, a collector of relics and exotic items.  I passed the Prism off onto him and hoped he wouldn’t realize what he had on his hands.  I know looking back that it probably wasn’t the wisest move in the world, but at that point I just wanted the blasted thing off my hands.  So I left it with Vi’el, and went on to Orgrimmar to begin my new life.  And started working out ways to deal with the spectral assassins before they came knocking on my door.

For a while, it worked.  I thought that chapter was done.  But as often ends up being the case around here, life still had one more surprise epilogue waiting.

 

 

As soon as the spectral assassins attacked me in the Drag, I knew what they were and where they were from.  Even with Ji fighting by my side, they were able to wear me down fairly quickly; Ji kept fending them off as best he could while I watched for an opening to pop back up.  That was the point when we had one more surprise guest, this time a face from the past that was actually welcome: Deliana.  She’d stealthed her way into Orgrimmar to come looking for me, and after she helped Ji and I fight off the assassins, she snuck back with us to my house to compare notes.

The notes weren’t good.  Something had stirred Valthalak’s spirit; I remember when he’d been laid to rest the first last time, the adventurers I’d sent mentioned him saying something about things being settled “for now,” but I didn’t really give it much thought at the time.  Now, though, he was awake again and sending out his assassins.  Only this time, it wasn’t over the amulet; it was over the Nether Prism.

From Deliana’s perspective, this all started with Theldren turned up in Ironforge, seeking protection from Moira Thaurissan.  Something had brought the last scattered remains of Nefarian’s old minions out of hiding and sent them scrambling after anything demon-related they could find.  Deliana overheard Theldren repeating that “something’s coming,” whatever that means.  We don’t know most of the why’s and wherefores; all we do know is that whatever’s behind it has stirred Valthalak enough to make him want his old trinket back.

I wasn’t going to go to Garrosh with any of this.  I didn’t think he would have received the last bit about my past with the demons well in the best of circumstances, much less now that we’d been through that ordeal with the Burning Legion in the other timeline.  Not to mention the minor detail that I was fraternizing with a human in Deliana.  We decided that we had to keep her involvement in all of this a secret; Ji, being maybe the one person who was truly neutral to all of this, came into our confidence.

It became pretty clear pretty quickly that it wasn’t going to be possible for Deliana to stay hidden in Orgrimmar, especially after Garrosh stepped up security for me after the attack.  (At least he meant well.)  Deliana even had a run-in with Malkorok at one point when he was coming to talk to me and happened to catch her sneaking her way to my house.  She was only able to get away because Ji happened along and was able to blindside Malkorok with a Quaking Palm that stunned him.  We got Deliana out of Orgrimmar and she went into hiding in Azshara, with Ji stepping up to ferry messages back and forth between us.

Which brings us to Winterspring.  The trip to Timbermaw Hold was basically just a cover for us to meet up with Deliana in Everlook, and from there…Darkwhisper Gorge, to find Vi’el.  After the Cataclysm, most of the demons had abandoned the gorge for the underground caves, and the Twilight’s Hammer had moved in.  Now the cultists were gone and the demons were back in force – and gone crazy, fighting among themselves.  Even back in the day, there weren’t this many of them.  We could barely turn around without being jumped by another felguard or pack of felhounds.

We found Vi’el at his cave – dead.  The cave had been ransacked; half of the belongings that remained had been burned, singed with green flames.  We turned the place upside down, but it became apparent fairly quickly that there wasn’t anything to be found.

I’m not sure where we go from here.  The spectral assassins are still coming, Krog already having intercepted one just the other day.  Vi’el was the only lead we had back to the Nether Prism, which I have to figure is our only means of getting the situation under control.  Short of dying.  Again.  Deliana has gone back into hiding in Azshara while we come up with a new plan.  I think I might have one more possible stone to turn over, but it may reach the point – in fact, I suspect it will soon – when I need to give up the secrecy and bring all this to Garrosh.  Hopefully he’ll understand.

I should maybe go see about making some lemon squares.

 

Mokvar

Confessions of a Mercenary

Since Ji and I got back from Winterspring, I’ve had a lot on my mind.  Everyone could tell we’d been injured – nothing major, but enough to catch people’s attention, especially considering how concerned everyone has been about me the last few weeks.  I hadn’t really planned to talk to anyone about what happened while we were up there.  I still prefer not to.  But after Krog had another run-in with an attacker the other day, people are going to keep asking more and more questions.  So I think it’s time for me to start filling in some blanks.

The blanks start long before Winterspring.

Years ago, before I’d come to Orgrimmar, I was part of a mercenary group called the Veiled Blade.  On one of our jobs, we had been hired to acquire the spellbook of a dragonkin in Blackrock Spire named Lord Valthalak, one of Nefarian’s lieutenants in those days.  As often happens with these kinds of things, that involved killing him.  Mostly, anyway.  Trouble is, though, between Nefarian’s forces and his alliance at the time with Rend Blackhand’s Blackrock orcs, getting to Valthalak and killing him wasn’t going to be an easy task.

That’s where we cut a deal.  As it turns out, not all the Blackrock orcs where exactly thrilled with Rend putting them in Nefarian’s service…and, long story short, we managed to come to an arrangement with Rend’s head of security – an orc named Malkorok.  He would deliberately leave prearranged gaps in the guard patrols leading to Valthalak.  We would slip in, kill him, collect what we came for, and get out.  We get in and out with a minimum of fuss.  Malkorok gets a pocket full of gold and the satisfaction of knowing the dragons had been weakened, for whenever Rend finally turned on the like Malkorok assumed he eventually would.

That was the plan.  And it mostly worked.  We went in, we killed Valthalak, we got the spellbook.  But we also collected an enchanted amulet from him, and after no small amount of infighting, we divided it into pieces and split it among some members of the group.  Don’t ask me what the appeal would be of getting a piece of an amulet; I wasn’t one of the ones fighting over it.  And the ones who did…  Well, Valthalak wasn’t quite as dead as we’d assumed.  His spirit lived on, and it sent spectral assassins after those of us who’d been involved in stealing the amulet.  Again, I’m not sure why the big to-do about the amulet; in his shoes, I probably would have been angrier at us for killin him than for taking his favorite piece of jewelry.  Maybe it’s a dragon thing.

One by one, the members of the Veiled Blade started to be picked off by the spectral assassins.  Soon enough, there were only three of us left: me, a dwarf named Theldren, and a human named Deliana.  We all went into hiding – me in Orgrimmar, Theldren in Blackrock Depths, Deliana in Ironforge.  Separately, and quietly, Deliana and I started to recruit Horde and Alliance adventurers to gather the pieces of the amulet and put Valthalak’s spirit to rest.  It took some time, but it worked.  For a while.

That changed a couple weeks ago when I was walking through the Drag with Ji, and a new batch of spectral assassins came out of nowhere and killed me.

From the look of things on the blog after Garrosh reported the attack, some people were pretty quick to put two and two together and figure that Malkorok had been behind it.  Truth be told, I was only too happy to let him take the blame.  And for those of you who’ve wondered, now you can see a little better why he and I have bad blood between us.  Now maybe you have a notion of why I don’t trust him.  I know he can be bought.  Because I was one of the ones who bought him.

As for why I wouldn’t have told anyone any of this until now…well, that’s where things start to get complicated.  TL;DR alert in advance: This may be a long story.

 

Mokvar

Landfall

Greetings from Pandaria, bitches!

We arrived yesterday and we’re well underway getting set up.  Our scouts had found a good location for a base along the southwestern shore of the Krasarang Wilds, and sent up a signal for us once the fleet was in range.  Once we brought everyone ashore, work on an outpost here got rolling.

Get this, though.  Turns out, at practically the exact same time, an ALLIANCE force landed at the EASTERN end of the Krasarang Wilds and started building a base THERE.  Which first of all, what are the odds of THAT timing, and also, for fuck’s sake, will people stop ripping off all my ideas?  I’ll tell you right now, if Varian starts writing poetry too, I’m going to lose my shit.

Anyway, this meant that shortly after we arrived, we had bunched of Alliance troops showing up and attacking.  And what THIS meant?  That yours truly got to get out there and mix it up with some humans, something I haven’t done in way too long.  You should have seen the looks on their faces, by the way.  Like “Holy shit, it’s Garrosh Hellscream!”  “Holy shit, he’s kicking our asses!”  “Holy shit, where did the bottom half of my torso go?”

So things are coming along now.  Blood Guard Gro’tash, Commander Scargash, and Rak’gor Bloodrazor are heading up the defenses while we build.  Meanwhile I’m sending Malkorok ahead to the Shrine of Two Moons, where I hear the last wave of Horde have set up camp, to check things out and also get Belloc Brightblade from the Reliquary started researching this race that used to rule Pandaria before the pandas took over.  There should be more Reliquary types on the way to join him once the rest of the blood elf ships arrive with Regent-Lord Ponytail.  Plus we’ve got one more waves of troops coming from Kalimdor to fill out our numbers here in Krasarang.

The only down side at this point is that my internet is pretty spotty.  Grizzle Gearslip, who’s overseeing most of the building project, seems to know his shit where construction is concerned, but he’s not the computer whiz Spazzle is.  I’ve only been able to get online sporadically with this laptop, and I don’t know if that’s going to change anytime soon, so I’m trying not to push my luck.  Definitely not rolling the dice trying to play Earth Online, for instance.  Hopefully Mokvar and Spazzle have been helping fill the void and can keep it up for the time being.

Also, by the way, while we were going around roflstomping Alliance, I got my first chance to break in Mortimer’s new armor, compliments of Gurtash.  Check is out:

Pretty badass, huh?  The only thing Mortimer doesn’t seem too thrilled about is the horns attached to the headpiece.  Personally I think they look all hardcore, kind of like he’s got his own version of those tusks of Mannoroth’s that I wear.  But Mortimer just keeps giving me the same face he did last Winter Veil when I made him wear those fake reindeer antlers.

Oh, speaking of Winter Veil, by the way, before I left for this trip, I wrote up a guest post for Typhoon Andrew as part of Blog Azeroth’s Furtive Father Winter gift exchange.  You should totally check it out here if you haven’t already, even if it turns out it IS an Alliance blog.

Fucking Alliance.