Archive for demons

Wake-up call

Posted in Comics, General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 15, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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Now that we were done with, you know, our year’s worth of delays, we finally headed deeper into the Spire and made our way toward the room that used to be that Valthalak dude’s lair.  Or study.  Or…office.  Whatever the hell you call it when you’re some kind of weird-ass draconic summoner what’s supposed to be dead only not exactly because what the fuck.  Good thing Mokvar still remembered the lay of the land in there — I would have ended up wandering around in circles if it’d been up to me.  Still, I have to say, Blackrock Spire IS a pretty impressive place, as far as fortresses go.  Kind of a shame it’s been sitting here mostly unused ever since the Blackrock clan cleared out.  Well, other than ghostly dragon dudes or whatever.

We ran into a few more of those reanimated dragonkin on our way, but we made pretty short work of them.  Still not sure what’s up with these dragon guys lurking around.  I figure it’s got something to do with Valthalak being up and sort of kicking again, but fuck if Mokvar was any help piecing that together.  He was pretty evasive, and it’s not like it would be news if somebody around here knew more than they were letting on, and fuck, Mokvar’s pretty much the grand poobah of that club at this point.

Valthalak’s room was just creepy dark, and it was in this echo-y part of the Spire where you could swear there was somebody — or a bunch of somebodies — talking just out of range for you to make out clearly.  Still, Mokvar seemed like he was no stranger to the place, even after however many years.  Once we were all in position, it was time to catch ol’ Mr. Part-Time Dead Drakonid’s attention.  Mokvar summoned up an imp, which apparently really liked running its mouth, mostly about what a tool it thought Mokvar was, and yeah, Mokvar, doesn’t it suck when you get stuck with ungrateful insubordinate minions?  Karma, dude, karma.

Anyway, though, the imp shut up right quick once Mokvar whipped out that Nether Prism doohickey and started channeling…um… I don’t know, he started doing some warlock stuff with it.  Fuck if I know.  It looked kind of purple, if that helps at all.  Point is, firing up his warlock hocus pocus seemed to do the trick, because within a minute or so, in the middle of the room, who should start to appear in shimmery, mostly-transparent form but the dragon troublemaker himself, Valthalak.  And of course, before he could even bother getting past his whole noncorporeal thing, he had to go into this whole greeting for us, Mokvar especially.  You know, the usual spiel you get from bad guys when you crash their pad, where they pretend to be happy to see you and go on about unexpected guests and pleasant surprises and act like they’re all polite and shit except they have a TONE.  I don’t know what it is with these guys.  They all do this shit.  There must be a manual or something.

Point is, though, before Valthalak was solid enough for us to do much about him directly, he started summoning up these wraith guys.  Like, lots of them.  So now I was finally getting to meet the famous spectral assassins that caused so much trouble for Mokvar and apparently made him go all batshit and stuff.  More importantly, though, now I was finally getting to stop standing around and listening to people yap yap yap and get back to something more in line with my area of expertise.

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I can kind of see how a bunch of these assassins would have been trouble for Mokvar solo, but with the whole crowd of us there, they weren’t nearly so much of a problem.  At least not individually.  Only trouble was that there were so damn many of them, just fading in out of the darkness in bunches, and it didn’t look like they were slowing down.  We kept hacking them down, though, whittling the numbers down little by little.

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Mak’gora, verbal style

Posted in EPIC VERSE with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on May 2, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

GARROSH HELLSCREAM

VS.

THRALL

BEGIN!

GARROSH:

I got the Scourge under wraps, so this round won’t be postponed.
Good thing Blackmoore named you Thrall, ’cause you’re about to be owned.
“Green Jesus,” never wrong? You were never warrior-strong –
Now I’ll shove those beads around your neck back up where they belong.
Aedelas gave you training; Taretha gave you sympathy;
I won’t say what Jaina gave you, but it’s BoP.
You might as well call yourself human, how you were shaped and apprenticed;
All you need’s some beige paint and a trip to the dentist.
Your reign as Warchief was a joke, and you are as well:
Every time I hear your name, I Go’EL-OH-EL.
You left me picking up your mess, and then I watched you leave it:
You failed to serve the Horde – now I’ll crush you beneath it. 

THRALL:

Too often since I went away I’ve heard tell of your crimes,
And I don’t know what disappoints me more: you or your rhymes.
I led the orcs from enslavement to the land we inhabit;
I only made one mistake – and I’m looking at it.
You’re not worthy of your line, you’re twisted as an ampersand;
You’re rhymes are weak and I won’t cheer, but I might give you a big hand.
You’ll keep losing your supporters and the lands you used to hold;
From your mailbag to your reign, you just keep on getting trolled.
So when they finally lead you off bound with chains and rope,
Where you’re going, drop some rhymes – but watch you don’t drop the soap.
I was blind to your crimes, but now you’ve gone past the line;
Now it’s time you finally answered— 

[Thrall hurls the Doomhammer at Garrosh; before it reaches him, though, Orgrim Doomhammer leaps in and catches it.]

ORGRIM:

                                             Yeah, I think this is mine.
Step aside for a real Warchief; challenge me, you’re going to lose.
You might wear my battle armor, but you could never fill my shoes.
Blackhand left our people pinned under Gul’dan’s thumb;
I showed a race enslaved that they could overcome;
I thought that you were fated to hold fast what we created,
But the going got unstable, and the unstable abdicated.
You made a half-assed call not knowing what the pros and cons were;
You played Frankenstein, then washed your hands of your monster.
And you now, Orcish Karloff – you plagued our kind like a pox,
And locked away our people’s hopes inside a heart-shaped box.
We both tried to tear an Anduin limb from unskilled limb,
Only mine was an adult – and I actually killed him.
Your challenge was a waste of time; you should have withdrawn it,
’Cause I own you both like the city that’s got my name written on it. 

[The wall behind them crumbles to reveal a makeshift Dark Portal, through which Blackhand emerges.]

BLACKHAND:

You people must be joking; now you might as well bounce,
Because you’re never trounce the one and only Warchief who counts.
The first to be crowned, rhyming fury unbound;
I built a mighty war machine – you ran it into the ground.
Well I’m back – I was the first, the best to rally orcish masses,
Now I’ll T.H. White Once-and-Future on your asses.
I’m unimpressed, Orgrim, with the rhymes you’ve busted.
Now I’ll correct my one mistake: thinking you could be trusted.
Our bond was iron, loyalty withstanding any test;
Your oath was what a noob picks through on an Outland quest.
So bring it on, Backstabber, and I’ll swat you right back;
You pose no threat; you’d better bet the pimp Hand is Black.

ORGRIM:

You want to take me on, Blackhand? You’d best hope for luck,
’Cause you only ever beat me in a timeline that sucks.
Lust for power kept you dreaming, so you were blind to Gul’dan’s scheming,
Then you followed Hellscream’s lead and sold us out to the demons.
You were Warchief in name, but power? Every last ounce’ll
Dribble down to you for show, straight from the Shadow Council.
It wasn’t till I took command that the First War was won—

BLACKHAND:

And then you led us to internment – yeah, nice work there, son.

THRALL:

We led the orcs back from the fall your madness brought on;
You may be Medivh’s king, but you were Gul’dan’s pawn.
You were a figurehead at best, with a fel employer;
It was only to your own kind that you were the Destroyer.
Oh, but since you mention sons, yours tried to demand
That he should rule, but he got his – by the Warchief’s command.

BLACKHAND:

Oh, look, the junior partner – sad you’re what would become of us;
No surprise, though; like your father, you were never really one of us.
Go play dress-up all you want; fish for praise but you won’t get it,
You just let others do the work and then swoop in to take the credit.
I earned my place as the greatest, and that glory will last—

GARROSH:

At least till Metzen gets another retcon hair up his ass…

BLACKHAND:

Yes, let’s get to you, pox boy, we’ll finish this quickly.
You’ve got rhymes like your childhood: rejected and sickly.
You couldn’t even finish this sad son of Durotan’s –
You should have Bane’d his back in half when you had the chance.
Captain Hammer here’s weak, but he still brought you ruination—

GARROSH:

That’s only ’cause I didn’t gem plot armor penetration.
Now you two old-school has-beens, watch your legacies unravel;
You’re done and gone (except for maybe FUCKING TIME TRAVEL).
My line is stuff of legends; your alias is famed –
They must have thought you’re Tom Riddle, ’cause you couldn’t be named.
I own my every call, each choice a notch in my own belt;
You couldn’t be more of a puppet if they’d made you out of felt.
I’m triumphant and a hero! I’ve slain humans, drakes, and liches!
I ride a wyvern that’s more badass than any of you bitches!
The greatest Warchief of them all, from the last to the first –
Epic mount, epic name, epic life, EPIC VERSE!

 

WHO WON?

WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!

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EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

 

[A quick two-part programming note: First, keep those suggestions coming!  While they will no longer be a regular weekly feature (because, whew, these are hard to write on a tight schedule!), I may still sprinkle them into the blog now and again, if these great suggestions keep coming in and people seem to be enjoying them.

Second — I’ve decided to push Garrosh’s next mailbag from this coming Monday to the following Monday (May 11), to allow the blog’s “main storyline” events to reach a point where the mailbag will seem less forced.  After this month, we’ll be back to our normal schedule of a mailbag the first Monday of each month.  Keep those letters coming!]

Those who fight monsters (part 3)

Posted in Comics with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 20, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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Those who fight monsters (part 2)

Posted in Comics with tags , , , , , , , on March 14, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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How to make friends and influence demons

Posted in Comics with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 19, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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* As readers of Jubeka’s journal from the green fire quest chain will recall, it was Jubeka’s fascination with more powerful demons that led to the introduction of the Grimoire of Supremacy talent for warlocks in Mists of Pandaria.  Which…roughly corresponds serendipitously with the time of Mokvar’s disappearance on this adventure.

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* Those of you who completed the green fire chain will recall much of this exchange from the Pursuing the Black Harvest solo scenario.  (Yes, I doctored the exchange a little here, but I have to be allowed some artistic license, right?  RIGHT?!)

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* Faranell surprised Garrosh here by turning up in Orgrimmar sporting a brand new (albeit possibly ill-fitting) jaw…

** …which evidently didn’t last very long.  According to Faranell, when Shayari made her unauthorized departure from the Undercity, she managed to damage the new acquisition.  A repair bill to be forwarded to the Warchief is still pending.

Contrary to what you surely believe…

Posted in Words from Behind the Curtain with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on February 11, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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…I live!  Well, I live, as in me, Averry.  Garrosh…kinda lives?  Only he doesn’t?  Except…he still does, here?  Until he doesn’t.  It’s…it’s complicated.  You get the idea.

POINT BEING.  I’m still here!  While I hadn’t intended to go quiet for so long, it was partly by design that the blog went on an unofficial break during the holidays.  My plan was to take a little time off from posting and to use some of that down time to get material prepared for when I was ready to start up again.  My hope was that doing so would benefit everyone involved: for readers, fewer long gaps between posts, since updates would be at least partially prepared in advance; and for me, a bit of relief from the constant self-imposed pressure to keep the production line going as quickly as (or maybe even more quickly that) I can.  As much as I enjoy writing and drawing the blog, it felt at times last year like I was putting down railroad tracks while the train is coming up behind me — as soon as I would finish a post, as soon as it would go up on the site, my thoughts would immediately go to “Okay, hurry up, get the next one done, get the next one done.”  After a while, that can make an otherwise fun experience into something draining.  That’s not good for me, but it’s also not good for all of you, who deserve to get the best quality of work I can manage when you come here.

So, I decided to give myself a sabbatical over the holidays, which ended up carrying on for longer than I’d intended.  I’ve been keeping busy during that time, though, and have managed to get quite a bit in the pipeline to go live.  I don’t want to name specific dates here and now, only because I have a couple more very specific benchmarks that I want to clear before I resume the blog’s storyline, just to make sure I don’t stumble into a new delay.  But NEW STUFF is imminent (and we’re talking about a matter of days, not weeks)!  So, in the interest of stirring you all up and whetting your appetites, you will soon get to look forward to…

  • Mokvar’s saga concludes!  We’ll be seeing the rest of what befell everyone’s favorite shaman-turned-warlock scribe at the hands of Kanrethad and Jubeka, then how the whole expedition to Blackrock Spire ends.demons  (Not without a surprise or two…)
  • Garrosh’s Earth Online guild, <Warchief>, has its first raid night!  Listen in on the happenings in guild chat when the 10-man team marches into the notorious Earth Online raid, Black Friday!
  • Remember years ago during Children’s Week, when you escorted that blood elf orphan salandria1around the world, and eventually learned she was being adopted by Lady Liadrin?  Well, Salandria is a teenager now, and is about to join the ever-expanding supporting cast.  (Shayari needs a peer to hang out with, right?)
  • Not to get too far ahead of ourselves, but after dropping the ball during last April’s National Poetry Month, the Warchief has plans for this year.  EPIC VERSE on the way…and, throughout the month of April, no shortage of it!
  • Naturally, interspersed through all of this will be more “30 Days” character profiles — and for our next one, you even get a say in who gets spotlighted.  Take your pick of supporting characters, and make your voices heard:
  • It’s been far too long since the Warchief dipped into his reader mail, so expect a new mailbag soon — in fact, you should make a point of contributing!  E-mail Garrosh at garrosh1337@gmail.com with your thoughts, questions, or general goofiness!  And, to make sure the ever-popular mailbags don’t have any more long gaps, I’m committing to a schedule for them going forward: the first Monday of each month, you can look forward to a “Monday mailbag” post.  But remember, the quality of Garrosh’s responses hinges on the quality of his mail — so get thinking!
  • Speaking of responding to reader inquiries… mark your calendar!  To kick off the “restart” of the blog, Garrosh will be fielding your questions on many and sundry topics, live (sort of) and in person (kind of) this Sunday night (February 15) — in an “ASK GARROSH” LIVE BLOG!  Starting at 8:30 PM EST, the Warchief will respond to questions submitted by you, his LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS, on the spot as they come in.  You can send your inquiries through e-mail, on Twitter (@GarroshHllscrm), via Garrosh’s page at Ask.fm, or through comments on the live blog page itself.  What you shouldn’t do, though, is send them in advance — once the live blog begins, I’ll be (um, I mean, Garrosh will be) responding to questions completely on the fly, sans preparation.  Let’s see what I can come up with on the spot, and/or how badly I fall on my face!

I know 2014 was a rather rough and uneven year for WCB.  I appreciate all of you hanging in there, and the continued support and friendship I’ve received from many of you.  Granted, 2015 is off to something of a belated start, but hopefully I’m in a position to stay on top of things better than I had been.  (Very likely, I’ll continue to build occasional posting breaks into the blog to let me get a jump on things again, but I’ll try to be better about letting you all know when those will be.)  Garrosh’s adventures continue…and, frankly, I can’t say I’m all that disappointed that drawn-out posting is keeping him alive in the blogosphere well past his in-game expiration date.  He’s a character I would never want to live with, but he’s way too fun to live in.

Be seeing you,

Averry

Demon’s Bargain

Posted in Words from a Scribe with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 28, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream

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After the dead end in Winterspring, I mentioned that I still had one more possible stone to turn over.  It’s not one I particularly wanted to turn over, considering who I’d be finding under it, but at this point I don’t really have the luxury of wasting time and hoping something else falls into my lap.  So yesterday, I took a walk down to the Cleft of Shadow to have a talk with Neeru Fireblade.

I had known Neeru a little when I had first started training as a warlock, but since moving to Orgrimmar and changing to shamanism, I hadn’t had contact with him beyond occasionally passing on the street.  I’d always avoided the Cleft of Shadow; after Thrall gave me sanctuary in Orgrimmar, the last thing I wanted was to be caught anywhere near the fel magic of the warlocks.  Now, after years of avoiding the place, I couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy just from purple light that illuminated the cavern as I made my way down.

 

Neeru Fireblade channels a spell while Mokvar approaches.

MOKVAR:  Neeru.

NEERU:  <looking at Mokvar over his shoulder>  Mokvar.  Just a moment.

Neeru finishes channeling.  Small flames burst from a large windroc carcass that sits on a nearby table, then flicker out after a moment.  Neeru turns to Mokvar and points to the sizzling fowl with a smirk.

Undercooked.

MOKVAR:  What do you do if it needs salt?

NEERU:  Count myself lucky that I didn’t make a larger mess of the preparation than that.  I’m hardly a chef.

Neeru sits down at the table.

I hope you don’t mind if I go ahead with dinner.

He gestures to a second chair across from him; Mokvar sits.

It’s been a long time, Mokvar.  In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you venture down this way.  What brings you to the land invocations and mediocre cuisine?

MOKVAR:  I’m looking for information, and I think you may be on the short list of people who might have it.

NEERU:  <gnawing on a leg from the roasted windroc>  I’m hardly a person in the know these days, but ask away.

MOKVAR:  The Nether Prism.

Neeru pulls the drumstick away from his face slowly and looks up.

NEERUWell now.  What have you gotten yourself into, Mokvar?

MOKVAR:  More a matter of what I’m trying to get myself out of.

NEERU:  All the more interesting, then.  I haven’t heard talk of that particular bauble in an age.

MOKVAR:  I wish I could say the same.

NEERU:  <eyes Mokvar closely>  The last I heard of the Prism, it was in the hands – or claws, I suppose – of that drakonid Valthalak.

MOKVAR:  That was years ago.  After that, it made its was to an imp named Vi’el, in Darkwhisper Gorge.

NEERU:  If you’re interested in the Prism, why don’t you go seek out the imp, then?

MOKVAR:  I did.  He’s dead.  What became of the Prism from that point is anyone’s guess.

NEERU:  Really now.  And how did you happen to know about this imp in the first place?

MOKVAR:  Let’s just say it took a roundabout path getting from Blackrock Spire to the imp.

Neeru leans back in his seat and folds his arms.

NEERU:  You?  You mean to tell me, Mokvar, that a relic as potent as the Nether Prism managed to change hands from Gul’dan all the way down to the likes of you?

MOKVAR:  When you’re starting with Gul’dan, I don’t know if “down” is the right word.

NEERU:  <chuckling and picking up the windroc leg again>  Well well, Mokvar…you say you came to me for information, but it seems I’m learning a fair bit more from you.

MOKVAR:  I think you know more than you let on.

Mokvar leans forward and drums his fingers on the table.

Then again, so do I.

Mokvar glances around at the other warlocks practicing invocations.

How many of them will it take?

NEERU:  <mouth half full of windroc meat>  Take?  For what?

Mokvar leans closer to the table.

MOKVAR:  To channel your targeting beacon for the demons.

Neeru drops the windroc leg on his plate and looks up.

How many warlocks?  How many of your collagues…in the Burning Blade?

NEERU:  The Burning Blade died with the last vestiges of the old Horde.  Anyone will tell you I cut my ties with them when I pledged my loyalties to Thrall.

MOKVAR:  <nods>  Of course.

Neeru starts to reach for his food again.

Are you waiting for a signal from any agent of the Legion, or are you on hold for Malchezaar specifically?  You might be waiting a while if it’s the second one.

NEERU:  I don’t know where you’re getting these fairy tales, Mokvar, but—

MOKVAR:  You know, it’s a funny thing.  Grom Hellscream died slaying Mannoroth and freeing our people.  Now his son walks around wearing the demon’s tusks, and sits on a throne carved out of its skull.  It would be a shame if the Warchief got the notion that someone in Orgrimmar was still cooking up something with the Legion.

NEERU:  <waving toward Ragefire Chasm>  If you really think Garrosh is above cutting ethical corners for the sake of—

MOKVAR:  If you’d like to roll the dice on how Garrosh would react, be my guest.  It’s not my neck at stake.

Neeru stares down at his food.

NEERU:  I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t know what’s become of the Nether Prism.

MOKVAR:  But?

NEERU:  But if I were to hazard a guess as to where it might have gone…after the imp…  <glances around furtively>  There have been…rumblings among the warlocks since the fall of Deathwing.  It started when the human Kanrethad reconvened his circle of fel masters, the same ones who had worked to expand the powers of the warlocks before the Cataclysm.

MOKVAR:  I’d heard about that much – the Council of the Black Harvest, isn’t it?

NEERU:  <nods>  Our own Ritssyn from here in Orgrimmar was among them.

MOKVAR:  What are they doing?

NEERU:  Running around on fool’s errands all over the world – and beyond – to seek out even greater sources of power for themselves.  That Kanrethad thinks he can build a coven of the mightiest warlocks in existence and position himself at its head.

MOKVAR:  You don’t think they’ll be able to do it?

NEERU:  I think that when you set out with a plan of “Let’s go make ourselves more powerful than anyone ever,” you find either disaster or a far heftier price than you’d counted on.

Mokvar nods.

Nevertheless.  If the Black Harvest are trying to consolidate their power, I’d hazard a guess that the Nether Prism would be just the sort of item that would interest them.

MOKVAR:  Do you know what’s become of Ritssyn?

NEERU:  I believe he and one of the others made their way off to the Firelands.  For all the good that will do you.

MOKVAR:  What’s that supposed to mean?

NEERU:  Mokvar, don’t you be a fool too.  You can’t seriously expect that the Black Harvest would talk to you.

MOKVAR:  I think I’ve already shown I can be pretty persuasive.

NEERU:  <chuckles>  Mokvar, don’t be naïve.  You’re hardly one of the movers and shakers of the world, I’ll grant, but surely you can’t believe that you’re not noticed.  Standing for all those years in Thrall’s council room.  Attending advisors’ meetings with the leaders of the Horde.  Hellscream’s personal scribe.  Never mind the fact that they’ll know you were a warlock yourself once before you decided you didn’t want to dirty your hands with the fel arts any longer.  Do you really think they’ll be willing to tell you anything?

MOKVAR:  I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to be very persuasive.

NEERU:  Assuming you can ever find them.

MOKVAR:  We’ll see.  <getting up>  Anyway, I suppose I got what I came for, or as close to it as I’m going to.  Enjoy your dinner, Neeru.

Mokvar turns to walk away.

NEERU:  Mokvar.

Mokvar stops and looks back.

How did you know?

MOKVAR:  How did I know what?

NEERU:  Don’t play games with me.  You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.

Mokvar grins.

MOKVAR:  Let’s just say I get around.

 

I left Neeru and made my way out of the Cleft of Shadow, mostly preoccupied with how I was going to track down the Council of the Black Harvest.  I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn’t notice the light go dimmer than it should have as I went up the last bend of the cavern.  That’s when two spectral assassins appeared out of nowhere and attacked me.

I fought them off as best I could for a minute, but my shocks and chain lightnings aren’t nearly as potent as a shaman who’s been training at it his whole life.  They were quickly gaining the upper hand when Garona unstealthed behind them and had at both of them with a flurry of blades that was faster than my eyes could follow.  It bears noting, by the way: Garona’s no joke in combat.  I hadn’t really noticed before.  Those spectral assassins dropped fast.  While she resheathed her weapons, I tried to come up with something to say without much success.

 

MOKVAR:  Garona…I…

GARONA:  Garrosh knows what you’re doing.  I hope you do, too.

MOKVAR:  Then why…?

GARONA:  Before he left for Pandaria, he asked me to look out for you.  Until he tells me otherwise, that’s what I’m going to do.

MOKVAR:  Well…thanks…

GARONA:  Don’t.  You know that if he tells me kill you, I’ll have to.

Mokvar nods and starts to turn to go.

Don’t give him a reason to.

Garona stealths.

 

I think it’s safe to assume that pretty soon Garrosh will be getting a letter informing him that I went to see Neeru Fireblade.  I don’t figure that’s going to do a whole lot to improve his mood any.  Still, he’s having Garona go on protecting me, for now at least.  And with these two assassins down, chances are I’ve got a couple days before I have to worry about the next wave coming for me.

Still, I don’t have the luxury of a lot of time.  I have a new lead to follow, and it needs to lead somewhere quickly.

 

Mokvar

 

 

[Header image provided by Khizzara from Blog of the Treant, used here with permission and many thanks.]

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