Archive for demons

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.]

Demonology Anonymous

Posted in Words from a Scribe with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on January 7, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream

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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.

 

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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

The Roshy Horror Picture Show

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

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

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

GARROSH:  Um, the FUCK you say?

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

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

FARANELL:  Ugh, I always hated school plays…

GARROSH:  Yeah, fine, but…

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

GARROSH:  You can’t seriously—

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

GARROSH:  But we—

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

GARROSH:  Ugh.  Fine.

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

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

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

GARROSH:  Beats me…

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

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

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

 

{DEMON HUNTERS TRIPLE FEATURE}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GARROSH:  Yeah…so…

MOKVAR:  What now?

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

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

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

GARROSH:  Well, Sylvanas reported this whole—

BARNES:  Don’t tell me, tell them!

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

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

…and…well holy crap, look at that…

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

SYLVANAS:  Hail, Warchief!

GARROSH:  Um…okay…

SYLVANAS:  I’ve got something to ask…

GARROSH:  Uh…yeah?

SYLVANAS:

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

GARROSH:  This is…kinda weird…

 

{OH GOSH, GARROSH}

SYLVANAS:

We need your help now, son of Grommash!

LIADRIN and MOKVAR: <together, flatly>

          (Garrosh.)

SYLVANAS:

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

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

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

Nope.  No way.  <glances around furtively>

GARROSH:

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

So, Edwin…

FARANELL:

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

GARROSH:

Where to begin?

FARANELL:

Well…Garrosh…

GARROSH:

What to do?

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

FARANELL:

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

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

Oh gosh, Garrosh…

GARROSH:

Edwin, no chin.

FARANELL:

Hey!  Gosh, Garrosh.

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

Wow, that blew.

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

GARROSH:  I just kind of DID…

FARANELL:  That was…weird…

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

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

MOKVAR:  Okay, so next…

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

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

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

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

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

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

GARROSH:  Right, so at that point…

Music begins to resonate through the hall.

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

FARANELL:  Aren’t we lucky…

 

{TIME WARP}

GARROSH:

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

LIADRIN:

Ask Soridormi.

MOKVAR:

Timelines have gone to hell.

FARANELL:

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

GARROSH:

Now this future will doom me!

ALL:

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

FARANELL:

I took a turn to the left.

ALL:

It should have been to the right!

FARANELL:

Bad news, everyone!

ALL:

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

LIADRIN:

It’s intriguing.

UTVOCH:

But mentally fatiguing…

LIADRIN:

With the demons blitzkrieging
We need a plan.

GARROSH:  <rushing in with Focusing Iris in hand>

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

FARANELL:

Now I’m feeling regretful…

MOKVAR:

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

GARROSH:

I see demons invadin’!

LIADRIN:  <drawing the Ashbringer>

I got dibs on Kil’jaeden!

ALL:

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

FARANELL:

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

ALL:

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

FARANELL:

I took a turn to the left.

ALL:

It should have been to the right!

FARANELL:

Bad news, everyone!

ALL:

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

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

FARANELL:

I took a turn to the left.

ALL:

It should have been to the right!

FARANELL:

Bad news, everyone!

ALL:

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

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

DONTRAG:  So wait, all that really happened?

UTVOCH:  What have I been trying to tell you?

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

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

GARROSH:  Enough, you two!

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

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

FARANELL:  More or less.

GARONA:  Why am I still hearing music, then?

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

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

MOKVAR:  Oh no…

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

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

GARROSH:  The FUCK?

 

{E-TRANSVESTITE}

LOR’THEMAR:

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

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

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

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

GARROSH:

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

LOR’THEMAR:

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

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

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

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

Hey!  Hey!

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

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

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

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

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

GARROSH:  And also, THAT gets the ovation?

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

GARROSH:  And a whole lot less discomforting…

Barnes walks out on stage with them.

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

The audience applauds more.

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

BARNES:  All in good time, sir.

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

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

GARROSH:  Um…WHAT?

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

GARROSH:  Intermission?  What intermission?

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

The curtain closes to mounting applause.

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