Being a role model is a full-time job

This week, Malkorok has been busy implementing his trainee program for teenage recruits from Orgrimmar.  He’s sending out notices to anyone age fourteen on up to seventeen – assuming they’re fit and able, and don’t have some other issues like, I don’t know, just off the top of my head here, outstanding community service hours cleaning the swine pens at Jaggedswine Farm after getting caught toilet papering Grommash Hold.  I’m speaking hypothetically here, of course.  The recruits will all be grouped by age and ability and assigned to small training units under the supervision of an accomplished veteran.  From there, they’ll start preparing to eventually fight for the glory of the Horde.

And now, before everyone starts QQ’ing, because I know there are a lot of people who read this blog who aren’t orcs (and speaking of which, fuck you, Varian), let me explain this so I don’t have to listen to a great wailing and gnashing of teeth from across the internet.

First of all, we’re not stealing anyone away from their families, if that’s what you’re thinking.  The trainees do their activities for the day and then they go home, just the same as if they were at school.  Which they pretty much ARE.  Which brings me to the next point.

We’re not just rounding up these kids and running them straight out onto a battlefield.  Yes, that would be stupid.  Do you seriously think I would do something stupid?  This is TRAINING we’re talking about here.  They’re learning about combat and self-defense and working as a unit, to get them READY for down the line when they’ll be needed for the war effort.  Nobody is getting sent into actual battle until they’re ready.  That’s the point – to GET them ready, not just to treat perfectly good future warriors as disposable cannon fodder.  (That’s what Dontrag and Utvoch are for.)

And, hell, before you all get in a tizzy over “But, but, they’re just kids!” – listen.  Orcs are not as long-lived a race as a lot of the others here on Azeroth.  People don’t seem to get this.  Cairne Bloodhoof was over 100 years old and still kicking ass, most recently mine, before, well, you know.  You’re not going to see me up and about at 100.  I’m probably not going to make it to 70.  That’s freaking OLD for an orc.  I know that might be hard to grasp for some of you – especially you elves, what with how you live for like hundreds of years.  Which means you’re probably considered a kid until you hit like 100 years old.  (And by the way, speaking of which: does that mean you elves are adolescents for like 50 years or something?  Because seriously, all you non-elves, can you imagine that?  Puberty lasting for 50 years?  I seriously would have killed myself.)

Anyway, point being, fourteen and fifteen are not as young for us as a lot of you seem to think.  Hell, I’m 34, and people keep referring to me as “young,” but by orc standards that pretty much makes me a middle-aged man.

Hang on.

…

Spirits help me, where the fuck did my life go?

Anyway.

Point is, everyone needs to just calm the fuck down and put their panties back on over this.

One thing related to the training program, though.  I was going over Malkorok’s rosters and happened to notice a few recruits from the Orgrimmar orphanage – including, you guessed it, Gurtash.  I know the kid’s got a lot of potential, but I also got to thinking it might be good to keep an eye on him, so I told Malkorok I would take charge of that trainee unit personally.  Malkorok wasn’t too happy about that, but then, he’s Malkorok – since when is he ever happy about anything, AMIRITE?  I think he felt like it was a job beneath the station of the Warchief, or whatever, but as it turns out, Gurtash was being placed un a high-aptitude group – no surprise there – so I spun it as me personally supervising the training of the best.  And also, as I succintly put it to Malkorok, I’m doing it because I’m the WARCHIEF and I SAID SO.

So, I’ve got a new gig a few times a week.  And really, I already play a teacher on Earth Online – how hard could it be in real life?  I have my first meeting with the kids later today, to start laying some groundwork for their training.  Should be simple enough.  The group’s going to consist of Gurtash and about a dozen other kids around his age.  How hard could a bunch of fourteen year olds be?

 

 

ADDENDUM, later:  Holy fucking hell, what have I done to myself?

All that you can’t leave behind

I stopped at Silverwind Refuge after I left Demon Fall Canyon, and left orders for Captain Tarkan to blanket the zone with as many scouting teams as he could pull together.  I’ll send word over to Hellscream’s Watch to send out air patrols as well to watch the borders, but I can’t imagine that last human could keep traveling at much of a pace.  Not if he’s as injured as he had to be, and not if he’s weighed down by carrying…never mind.  Point is, I’ll be surprised if he’s not still in Ashenvale somewhere.

Grebo’s a whole other matter.  He could be anywhere.  So next up is an alert to all the border patrols.  Notices to all the outpost commanders.  Who to look for, and where he was last seen, and setting a messenger network to warn all the nearby stations if he’s spotted anywhere, in case he gets away again.

See.  I’m staying on top of this.  Doing the job.  Keeping my mind on the job.  Checking off all the boxes, hitting all the right protocols.  Textbook.

Not letting myself think about that sound, from Grebo’s axe.  Or of Lakkara crying out.  Or how 99 times out of 100 I would never, ever let my back get turned to an oncoming enemy like that.  Not going to think about all the ways I would usually square my body and turn to meet him and not give anybody else a chance to get close.

And I’m not letting myself start thinking about what they want with her.  Why they would take her.  Or who they even are.  Or the fact that the last dead body they took an interest in was Grebo himself.

And I’m not thinking about that damn Demon Fall Canyon, that spirits-forsaken place that’s orphaned me twice now, on the exact same spot.  Or how beautiful it’ll all look covered in bright, cleansing flames.

I’m not thinking about any of that at all.

I have work to do.

 

 

[Header image provided by Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth, reproduced here with permission and many thanks.  Click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]

Children’s Week

Ever since I got that letter from my mother a couple weeks ago, I’ve been thinking a lot about the old days in Nagrand.  Like I’ve mentioned a few times already, I used to keep a journal back then.  About a week ago, before I left for Nagrand, I pulled it out again, and I’ve been paging through now and then.

I don’t know if any of you have had the experience, but it’s funny reading things you wrote so long ago that you don’t even remember writing them.  It’s like this weird ping pong game between “Oh crap, I wrote that? Was I ever really that stupid?” and “Hey, that sounds really smart, who wrote that?”  I know, I know, I shouldn’t be all that surprised by that second one.  Modesty is the burden of the preternaturally awesome.

Anyhow, I’ve been reading through those very first entries in particular.  It wasn’t even really a journal at that point so much as a notebook I used to fill up with all kinds of stuff – drawings, my early half-assed attempts at poems, stories about things that had happened to me or that I just plain invented… I guess Greatmother Geyah and my mother both thought I had this creative side, so they figured they’d give me some notebooks to try to encourage me.

(Side note, you should totally see some of these cartoony little-kid pictures I drew of Jorin Deadeye, with like “POOP HEAD” written in and arrows pointing to him.)

I’ve been coming back to a few passages I’d written about my mom.  Reading me stories (thinking back, that’s probably what got me started writing in the first place, all the nights she read me to sleep), like that rhyming kids’ book Talbuk Luck, kind of an old standard for Draenor kids back then.  She even did this goofy sing-song voice for Tahri the Talbuk – I’d forgotten all about that until I started reading back over this stuff.  Or the time later on when she took me on that long trip on foot out by Oshu’gun, and sat on one of the bluffs to watch Bach’lor running around in the fields with his herd.

The little-kid entries come to a stop all of a sudden, and don’t pick up again until I started writing again in my teens.  And, oh boy, here comes the emo.  But, yeah, the gap.  Kicked in right about the point when she died.  “Died”?  Should I put that in quotation marks now?  Anyway.  Disappeared.  Any desire to look at those notebooks went with her, for a long time.

Yesterday afternoon, Lakkara went out to go exploring Orgrimmar.  I’d been showing her around, but I’m sure a lot of it was just this big blur of information, and she seemed pretty blown away by the place in general.  No surprise – the city is gigantic compared to villages like Garadar that she’s used to, and even Shattrath doesn’t come across quite so vast and, well, overwhelming.  So she wanted to have a little time to just look around at her own pace.  Reasonable enough.

After a while when she hadn’t come back, I figured I’d go have a look around.  As big and sprawling as Orgrimmar is, it’s pretty easy to get turned around even if you know the place, much less if you’re still new to it all.  It took a while, and no small amount of circling around, but I finally tracked her down.  In retrospect, I should have known where she’d be right off, considering what week it is.

I found her in the Orgrimmar orphanage.  It was starting to get dark, and she and Matron Battlewail had the kids gathered around…while she read to them.  Talbuk Luck.  Of course.  She was even doing her goofy Tahri the Talbuk voice, which was cracking this little troll girl up especially.  She read through to the end, this silly sing-song rhyming story, and when she finished, Gurtash hopped up and shouted “Epic verse!”

Nobody noticed me when I first got there, so I just hung back and watched in the doorway, then headed back to Grommash Hold.

Tomorrow I’m sending out new orders to some of our field commanders.  We’ve lost a lot of soldiers over the last year or so – in Vashj’ir, in Twilight Highlands, in Deepholm… Most of the time we recover the bodies and bring them home, give the fallen the burial they deserve.  Sometimes, though, there’s no body found.  People just disappear.  And after a while, they wind up on the rolls of the dead.

Since Deathwing was defeated, things have been relatively quiet on most fronts.  So I think we can spare the personnel to take on a few extra missions.  I’m having the field commanders send out some additional patrols, an extra scouting party here and there, to make another sweep or two in the areas where we’ve taken those losses.  In particular, the places where we’ve had people disappear, presumed dead but never confirmed beyond a doubt.  The ones, especially, who’d left children behind.  Just in case.

I’m not going to advertise it, and I’m sure not going to let them know at the orphanage and risk getting the kids’ hopes up.  Life is hard enough, and cruel enough, which the orphans know better than anyone, without me setting them up for more disappointment.  But who knows.  Maybe there’s still some good news for one or two of them, out there waiting to be brought home.  Doesn’t hurt to have a look.

Every once in a while – not often, but sometimes – life decides to be generous.

More soon.

Monday mailbag

Short break from the ongoing business in Silithus and Ferelas and Dustwallow and wherever the hell I’m going to end up getting stuck going to next, to answer some mail…

 

Dear Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde;

I just wanted to thank you for kindly taking the time out of your busy schedule to spread some cheer at the orphanage this Winter’s Veil.  The children were so thrilled to meet Greatfather Winter in person and to receive their new toys.  There is so little excitement in their daily routine, and they have so very few possessions, that this event made a huge impression on them.  Many are still talking about it to this day.

Of course, some of the older children realize that it was not really Greatfather Winter delivering their presents; however, they were quite touched to see that the Warchief himself has not forgotten them, the Horde’s smallest and most vulnerable citizens.  I have informed these older children about the existence of your blog, so you may notice a slight increase in your readership.

Thank you once again, and may you have a very happy New Year.

–Orphan Matron Battlewail.

Some of you might have remembered last week that Eitrigg had gotten me to “volunteer” to play Greatfather Winter at the Orgrimmar orphanage (read: he went ahead and fucking told them I was going to do it without actually asking me, then played the honor-your-commitments and set-an-example-for-keeping-your-word-for-the-kids cards on me).  A lot of you have probably seen this already, but @_Rades over at Orcish Army Knife somehow managed to get a picture of the spectacle too, so that might be worth a peek if you really don’t want to let me get away with any dignity.

Anyway, though… I guess it’s good that the kids felt like someone was looking out for them, even if a lot of them ARE a bunch of snot-nosed little brats.  (And to think Thrall actually wants to be a dad, too… I’ll tell you right now, I am NOT looking forward to playing Uncle Garrosh at those get-togethers.)

 

Dear Warcheif,

My name is Gurtash, and I’m 13 years old.  I live in Orgrimmar at the orphinage.  My mom was sick and died after leaving the enterrnment camps.  My dad died in battle in Northend fighting scorge.  He was very brave and taght me to live with honor.  I am going to be a warrior to like my dad and you.

Matron Battlewhale showwed me your blog it is very good.  I love wyverns and Mortimer is the best!  I seen you fly him before.  My dad said I could have wyvern when I’m older but he died.  Can i help you take care of Mortimer?  I will feed him and brush him and clean his stall and talk to him.  Maybe you could give me some sillver for helping or not that’s ok to.  Let me know ok.  Thanks.

Flying in the sky
Someday I’ll fly as high
Mortimer on the wing
Faster than anything
Loyal to the end
Protecting his friend
So dont start a fight
He will end it right.

EPIC VERSE!

–Gurtash

Uh oh, here we go.  Well, I guess Battlewhale— erm, I mean, Battlewail did warn me.

Wait, this kid’s dad died fighting the Scourge in Northrend?  But that would mean…oh crap.

So, Gurtash, I um…yeah, I’m sorry about your folks, but it’s good to hear you want to be a brave warrior of the Horde like your dad.  Lucky for you we do have some really good trainers here in Orgrimmar, so make sure you listen to them once you’re a little older and you get to go down to the Valley of Trials.  And make sure you eat lots of meat to build your strength.  I know a lot of grownups are going to try pushing the vegetables on you, and they’re fine if you can choke them down, I guess, but trust me on this, you’re going to want a lot of protein for muscle.  Pork, steak, bacon – dude, you cannot possibly get enough bacon – tastes great and great FOR you!  Take it from your Warchief.

Also gotta say, you win points for the epic verse (no caps here because it’s kind of EPIC VERSE! junior edition in this case).  Keep up the poetry, and just remember, don’t let anybody give you any crap about it.  Somewhere along the line, some smartass is probably going to try to make some wisecracks about you writing poetry, but don’t listen to them.  In fact, the best way to handle it is to just let them yammer on, let them take their best shot, and then take YOUR best shot back, ideally by beating the living shit out of them.  I mean the living crap.  I’m not supposed to say “shit” to you, am I, right?  Fuck.  DAMMIT, I did it again!  Forget both of those.  (AND DO NOT TRY ASKING MATRON BATTLEWAIL WHAT THE SECOND ONE MEANS.  THAT IS AN ORDER!!  Whew.)

Anyway, Gurtash, Mortimer DOES take a lot of time and attention, not that I really mind, but a little help on busy days or when I have to be away from Orgrimmar might be handy, come to think of it.  I’ll see about bringing you over to Grommash Hold for a visit and see if we can set something up…just watch the talons until he gets used to you!  Seriously.  Wyverns are cool and all, but until they decide they can trust you, they don’t take any crap from anyone.  If you do a good job with him, who knows, maybe next Winter’s Veil there might be a stray wyvern cub flapping around needing a home.  Who knows?

That’s it for today.  Tomorrow I’ll have a more newsy post up, since I know a lot of you are just waiting with bated breath to hear what my brilliant idea is about the Twilights.