Archive for gorehowl

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on March 2, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

mailbag1

So if you’re reading this, it means that this pre-scheduled post I had Spazzle rig up for me has kicked in.  See, I figured it’d been a while since I dipped into the ol’ mailbag, only I wasn’t sure how long I was going to wind up being tied up with the whole Blackrock Spire business, so I had Spazzle set this thing up so this mailbag post would go up automatically if I didn’t get back by a certain point.  Which, if the post has gone up and you’re seeing it, totally raises the perfectly fair question WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON DOWN THERE I MEAN SERIOUSLY

ANYWAY.

On to the mail!

 

Dearest warchief,

I have heard of your feats of battle, and wish to know, How did you get so good at fighting? do you have a secret trainer? what’s your favourite move? and lastly, is Gorehowl hard to wield?

I have heard of this daughter of yours, and would like to offer my services as a teacher if you wish. P.S i am a blood elf death knight.

Salamah’ashala noreh, warchief. (Goodbye/farewell)

–Ranacore Bloodblade

Hey, Ranacore, thanks for writing.  No secret trainer, no real secret source for my combat badassery in general.  Just talent, son, pure talent.  A long childhood history of people in Garadar talking shit about my dad didn’t hurt, what with all the opportunities it afforded me to practice kicking ass at an early age.

Favorite move?  I’d have to go with the plain ol’ time-honored axe to the face.  I guess I’m just old-fashioned that way.

Yes and no on the Gorehowl question.  See, it’s perfectly balanced – you’ll never find an axe that’s better crafted in terms of distributing its weight and mass to lend itself to generating force while maintaining flexibility.  Somebody really did a job and a half designing it.  But at the same time…man, that motherfucker is heavy as shit.  Which leads to a whole lot of people stumbling over, the first time they try to pick it up.

As for training Shayari, I think I’ve got that covered.  Plus, she’s a mage, so I figure most of her training would be out of your area of expertise, seeing as you’re a death knight and all.  On the other hand, you’re also a blood elf, so maybe you could show her, I don’t know, some fashion tips or hairstyling techniques, since I think maybe she’s into that shit.

 

Many thanks for the answers Warchief.  As an aside, seeing as how you cavorted with the Draenei yourself, would it be presumptuous to look for a little leniency if I hook up with one myself?  As a Tauren, the horns and hooves (and hips and tail) are kind of a turn on.  I mean c’mon, what’s good for the Warchief should be cool for the rest of us, right?

–Karlsohn, Thunder Bluff

Dude, you think I’m not paying for that one?  We all make our iffy decisions, Karlsohn, and some of them come back to haunt you, but only the very, very special ones have birthdays.

 

Greetings Honorable Warchief Hellscream,

We have a small problem in Pandaria: Gnomes. Mainly the dead ones. The Yaungol just love to kill them. I will not deceive you and say that I understand why the Yaungol kill these creatures, let alone roast their bodies. Seriously, it smells like bacon around their camps these days. Many of my Omnia trainees, especially the younger ones just past their Trial of the Red Blossoms, mistake it for actual bacon. It has led to some…uncomfortable moments. I am also no lover of gnomes. They are creepy with their bouncing, unnatural perkiness, and candy colored hair (also, those pigtails? Definitely NOT made of candyfloss. Lao Chin found this out the hard way). At least the Grummles have a use with ferrying supplies to our Monastery! So I ask of you, is there some use for these roasted Gnomes? I thank you for any advice you have to offer.

–Shen Wei Pureblossom, Healer of the Shado-Pan

So…while I’ve been a long-time supporter of the idea that the only good gnome is a dead gnome…roasted gnome?  Fuck if I know.  Probably the only thing roasted gnomes could have going for them is that they ARE dead – emphatically dead, in fact, like way past the point where someone could come along and raise them as undead gnomes, because CREEPY AS FUCK.

So, on the down side, I don’t really have an answer for you as far as what roasted gnomes are good for.  On the plus side, I think we DO have an answer as far as what yaungol are good for.

 

Hail Warchief,

I write to you seeking honest answers regarding our ongoing war with the Alliance and when it will end (as all wars must). Some time ago, my mate Detanga marched off to war as a soldier in your army. She would return home from many a battle with a few scars and some tales to tell our two children.

Just the other day, a grim Blackrock orc shoved her notice of death into my hand.

My heart burns with the desire to track down her killers and tear them apart, but I am a breeder of wolves, not a warrior. I would not last five minutes in battle. Detanga was always the stronger of us two. She served in a unit as part of our initial invasion into this land of Pandaria, but she died while defending our port there, Domination Point, during a cowardly Alliance attack.

I beg of you Warchief, send what forces you can to the Alliance’s port, this so-called Lion’s Landing. I am not the only one on my street to lose family in the attack. The blood of the fallen must be repaid! Know that had I the power, I would take this charge myself, but I am no warrior, as I have said.

Yours faithfully,

–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master

Way to bring the room down, man.  Yeesh.

I mean…um… Sorry for your loss, Ogunaro.  (By the by, any relation to Shyrka Wolfrunner?)  Your mate must have fallen during one of a bunch of Alliance raids on Domination Point a couple months ago.  All of them were repelled, but there were heavy losses in some cases – Warlord Bloodhilt among them, in the same raid as your Detanga if I remember right.  Know that she died victorious, with honor, driving off our enemies and reminding them one more time what happens when they cross our people.

You’re right, though – they have another reminder coming to them.  As it happens, I have Wolf-Rider Gaja, Dark Cleric Laresa, Thauma…um…Thamautu… Them…some blood what’s name is Saresse, and a few others, working on a counterstrike.  When we roll over that kiddie-building-block castle they call a fortress, I’ll see to it you have a front-row seat.

Also, unrelated, seeing as you’re a kennel master: Do you have any tips for cleaning, um, wyvern stains?  Mortimer’s gotten…well, let’s say, kind of uneven about minding himself.  Although it IS kind of funny when he makes Malkorok have to toss out yet another pair of boots.

 

Most Honorable Warchief,

I have been reading your blog in its entirety on the recommendation of a friend from Thunder Bluff (it helps with my downtime as part of the Northrend cleanup crew). I noticed you have a…violent dislike of Magatha Grimtotem. As a Tauren loyal to Thunder Bluff and a former Grimtotem as well, I would offer up my axe at a chance to help you hunt her down. I missed my chance when the crone was in chains in Thousand Needles, but I would not let you down. I had grown disillusioned with her leadership some time before her treachery against Thunder Bluff was known, and when it was…well, that was the straw that broke the kodo’s back.

–Bahunada Darkhide of the Runetotems

PS: Would you mind if she was slightly “tenderized” before being brought before your judgment?

Oh fuck yes.  FUCK THE HELL YES.  Have at it, Bahunada.  (By the way, I don’t know if you were aware of this, but your name is a grade-A bitch to type.)  Go track her down in whatever cave she’s slithered into these days, smack her around, and drag her ass in.  Feel free to take as many liberties as you want when it comes to the smacking around.  I want her alive, mind you, but other than outright killing her, listen to your heart.  Remember, “clinging to life” still counts as alive.

Oh, and while you’re at it, if you run into that other fucker Johnny Awesome – you know, the one who fucking LET MAGATHA LOOSE IN THE FIRST PLACE when she was all chained up in Thousand Needles way back when – feel free to open up as many cans of smack-smack-stab-die on HIS ass as you want, too.  You’ll note that the whole “bring ’em in alive” thing is totally optional in his case.

 

Lok’tar Warchief!

I took alot of what you said to heart and I’ve been doing those errands all over the place! First I went to Silverpine. It’s really smelly there. Like, worse than the Troll area in the city, but it doesn’t make me giggly like the Troll area does. And it’s all spooky there with all the walking corpses. It’s just not cool. Stonetalon was better, until I met Mr. Dontrag and Mr. Utvoch. They really are kinda stupid, aren’t they? They weren’t as bad as that Tirion guy. First he sat me down for a good two hours to just talk. I kinda tuned him out after the first ten minutes, although I wish I coulda hit him with my shield! I think that Daria lady wouldn’t have liked it, though. His stupid trainees are super weak and lazy too! I think I made one of those elfs cry after smacking them around a bit. Alot of them didn’t stand a chance, although their trainer thought I was a boy! CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT?! He sent me on a bunch of stupid errands his trainees were too lazy or beat up to do. I showed those dumb trainees how a real orc gets things done and what does Tirion do? He starts to rage at me, then thanks me for “rooting out a traitor to the Crusade” or whatever he said. I started tuning it out when he got going again. He also smelled funny, but more like Gamon after he’s kicked out of the inn.

I found my warrior calling too! I really like smacking things with a shield and protecting my fellow orcs! Mostly the shield smacking, though.

Mirembe, Orgrimmar

Hey, Mirembe.  Nice work on the warrioring.  Especially nice work on the shield bashing.  Not really my thing, mind you, but it’s always good to have some tanky types around, especially considering most trainees don’t want to bother with the job when they can just run around blowing shit up, metaphorically or otherwise.  I might have to look into getting you an extra goodie bag or something.

It’s good that you’re keeping busy, even if…well, I mean, it sounds like you’ve been mostly surrounding yourself with less than the best company.  Not that I’m one to talk.  But believe me, I know all too well about the fail that happens when you let the jackass cocktail of Dontrag/Utvoch/Tirion into your life.

I haven’t seen Tirion for a while now – yay for me, sucks for you – but I’m not surprised he’s still yammering on.  And I mean “still yammering on” as in still yammering on about whatever bullshit he was saying last time I saw him, months ago, without even coming up for air.  And you know, as much as I hate cutting any slack to those Argent Dawn Crusade Talk to the Silver Hand people…like… yeah, I’m sure the trainees up there ARE weak and lazy.  They’re probably fucking EXHAUSTED.  Wouldn’t YOU be, if you had to listen to Highlord Paragraph all day every day?

As for the Wonder Twins…shit, I don’t even know WHAT D&U would have been doing back in Stonetalon.  I mean, they’ve been on detachment down in Pandaria, and they’ve just been in Orgrimmar temporarily while a bunch of us have been back for a check-in, so… I don’t know, maybe they’re up there visiting someone?  Do they even have friends?  Poor fuckers, if so.  Or, I don’t know, maybe they got confused and went right back to their old posts in Stonetalon, because after all, “confused” is pretty much a default state for those two.  It’s not like they’ve been reassigned back to Overlord Cliffwalker where they’d be stuck back up there permanently…and…um…back to being HIS headache, and out of my hair, and…

Um…

Hang on.

I need to go look for a form.

 

As always, keep those letters coming!  Next mailbag April 6!  E-mail garrosh1337@gmail.com or submit your message below:

LIVE BLOG: Ask Garrosh Anything!

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

question

Here we go!  As promised a few days ago, tonight the Warchief of the Horde (current or former, depending on how you count, because timey-whimey), Garrosh Hellscream, will answer any questions you’d care to throw at him!  If you can see this post, then the floor is now open for questions.  You can submit your question to the Warchief through any number of means: as a comment on this post, an e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com, a tweet to @GarroshHllscrm, an inquiry posted to Ask.fm, or a message through Garrosh’s Facebook or Google+ (feel free to add him on any and all of these, by the way!).

As I’ve noted before, there are a few simple ground rules for questions:

  • No spoilers!  Garrosh’s blog incarnation is currently living out the events of the Patch 5.2 timeframe.  If you’d like to include some sort of comical nod or foreshadowing toward future events in your question, feel free!  But questions explicitly referencing events that have not yet occurred in the blog will not be answered.
  • No anonymous questions will be answered.  You can submit your question under your in-game character name, a blogging pseudonym, a Twitter handle, whatever, but there must be an author to whom your question can be attributed.
  • This should probably go without saying, but no questions will be answered that are clearly engaged in harassing, trolling (not you, Bob), antagonizing, or generally disregarding the fun intentions of the endeavor.  Questions that seem to disregard, willfully or accidentally, the fundamental premises of the blog (check here for the basics, here if you’re feeling ambitious) will either be ignored or, perhaps, answered in a…derisive manner.

How it works: The live blog proper will begin at 8:30 PM EST (give or take a few minutes).  All questions will be added to this post.  Refresh this page periodically to check for updates!  I expect some responses will come quickly, while others may take a little longer, depending on what sort of response is called for.

While I will never alter the substance of your question, I reserve the right to make minor edits to correct errors (i.e., you refer to Spazzle when you clearly mean Gurtash) or to delete something spoiler-ish from an otherwise good question.

I plan to keep going for as long as I have questions that I think will be interesting and entertaining to answer, so keep them coming!  While I plan to try to answer as many questions as possible, I make no guarantee or promise that any individual question will get a response (i.e., I reserve the right to pick and choose which one I answer).  When the blog is finished for the night, Garrosh will explicitly announce that, so if there hasn’t been a “Good night, everyone!” type of statement, you can assume there’s still more on the way.

So, with all the quasi-legal technicalities out of the way… Get to it!  Ask away!  Answers to begin once ol’ you-know-who makes his glorious arrival…

* * * * *

HERE WE GO, BITCHES!  Brace your mind and hold on to your ass, because it’s time for yours truly, the one-and-only GARROSH HELLSCREAM, to answer ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU WERE AFRAID TO ASK.  Except I guess you weren’t.  Because you asked them.  SO NICE JOB NOT BEING A BUNCH OF FUCKING PANSIES RIGHT OUT THE GATE.

Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.  Keep ‘em coming as you think of ‘em…

What do you consider your biggest non-combat achievement? –Zugzug

There are non-combat achievements?

I kid, I kid.  Well, not really.  But whatever, I should still come up with a kinda-real answer.

You probably wouldn’t see this achievement coming, but: First runner-up in the seventh annual Garadar chili cook-off.  Which was amended to first place after… well, something unfortunate happened to original-winner Grok’nar.  (My best to his widow.)  (And I do mean my best.)

See, this might come as a surprise, but your Warchief isn’t half bad as a cook.  As a matter of fact, one of the things I had to get used to when I became Warchief was having OTHER people cooking for me.  I was never used to having other people serving me.  Just felt weird.  Still does.  Even up in Northrend, I usually chipped in on odd chores around Warsong Hold if I didn’t have more urgent things to do — as much as I was tough on the troops up on there, I think it was kinda good for morale for them to see I didn’t think I was too good to get my hands dirty with the stuff I was asking them to do.  Anyway, every so often I would sneak into the kitchen and help them whip up a few things, even then.  I actually found it pretty relaxing.  Well, except for Saurfang and his damn picky menu.  No pork my ass.

Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, 

After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible, killing my son, forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks, it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number, has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned – and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing, according to my informants (who shall remain nameless). In short, she has revealed herself to be an enemy of the Alliance and a liability to the Horde, of wich you are warchief. 
So my question is: What are you going to DO about her?!
With all due respect,
–Genn Graymane, King of Gilneas

Does anyone smell wet dog in here, or is it just me?

Oh, wait, it’s Genn.  He must have picked up that stink from hanging around Varian all day.

Anyway.  Let’s take this a little at a time:

After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible,

Sounds like a good start.

killing my son,

That’ll teach him to keep his guard up.

forcing my general and lifelong friend Crowley to surrender by holding his daughter hostage

 Can’t make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.

and carving a bloody swath through my people’s ranks,

 Not seeing a problem so far.

it recently came to my attention that Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken who count themselves among your number,

Your grasp of current events as of like eight years ago is impeccable.

has been using full-strength Blight – which you yourself banned –

The WHAT you say?

and kidnapped one Koltira Deathweaver away to the Undercity for torture and brainwashing,

Holy fucking shit, is THAT where that motherfucker went?!

according to my informants (who shall remain nameless).

 I… okay, hang on.  Here’s where you’re starting to chase your tail.  So to speak.  Okay, so you’re telling me, SOME PEOPLE, who YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHO THEY ARE OR HOW THEY KNOW THIS SHIT, BUT OH BOY BELIEVE ME, THEY SURE KNOW WHAT THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT, these people tell you blah blah blah Sylvanas?  And so…you’re asking me, what, if I’m going to lay the smackdown on her or something?  And, say, go attack the Forsaken or some shit, who by COMPLETE COINCIDENCE happen to be the same people who KICKED YOUR ASS, only now I’m going to go after them because OH NO YOU DON’T LIKE SYLVANAS?

Well, get in line, chief.  Nobody likes Sylvanas.  Other the people who are already dead, but that’s their damage.  And for real, I’m not going to break off one chunk of the Horde and go stage, what? a civil war or some shit against ANOTHER major part of the Horde, just because I think their leader’s kind of a jerk.

Come on, who’s going to be a big enough asshat to play THAT card?

Do you have a sure fire cure for head aches? –Toka

The only one I’ve found that works pretty consistently is that once Dontrag and Utvoch get going with their damn yammering, and going on and on about whatever the fuck they’re saying, and the headache starts kicking in, you watch them pretty close — I know it might hurt your eyes a little at first, but hang in there, you’ve gotta push through that part — and then when you see them position themselves good and close, you reach over and smack their heads together good and hard.  I can’t stress this enough: you can’t be shy about really putting a good CRACK into cracking them together.  Then, worst case scenario, they’ll usually shut up for a little while, or better yet at least one of them will lose consciousness for at least an hour or two.  Plus when they come to, seems like they end up suffering some really killer headaches themselves, which, you know, poetic justice.  SMACKED DOWN BY IRONY, BITCHES.

Of course, if your particular headaches aren’t D&U related, I don’t know what to tell you.  <shrug>

Do you believe in ghosts?‎ –@RuekieShaman

I… Hang on.

You’re asking me…if I believe in ghosts?

Rook, what planet do you live on?  We have an entire fucking FACTION of the Horde that keeps ghosts around as fucking bankers and shit.  Every been to Stratholme?  Scholomance?  Like fifteen other places I can think of right off the top of my head?  Dude, I had the ghost of my MOM following me around for a few weeks a couple years ago!  Where have YOU been?

So you know what?  Let me see your “do you believe in ghosts?” question and raise you this one:

Do you believe in goblins?

What do you do to relax? –LazyPeon

Well, let’s see.  Writing the ol’ EPIC VERSE can be a good way to unwind, unless I write myself into one of those corners where there’s something I want to say but I can’t come up with something that rhymes with “orange,” because who the fuck had the bright idea to invent a word that like NOTHING rhymes with.  And when I have a little down time between meetings and missions of conquest and, you know, tax audits and shit, back when I was starting as Warchief, I used to sneak in a few games of cribbage with Eitrigg.  Only that old guy was way too good at that game, so he usually won, and that wasn’t exactly so great for my mood.  Lately I’ve been trying to teach Malkorok how to play, but I mean, he’s good at his job and all but overall he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed, and so I end up having to repeat myself a lot, and re-explain things, and that pisses me off a lot, too.  Pretty much the only thing I can think of that I found consistently relaxing, actually, was doing some barbecuing, or whipping up a big pot of something, but like I was saying a few questions ago, since becoming Warchief I haven’t had that much of a chance to do much cooking myself.  So there goes that one.

Um.  So I guess the point is that apparently I have a pretty fucking stressful life.  Thanks for reminding me, peon.  Fuck.

What are you going to do when Shay wants to date?  What if it is the Black Prince?  Or Prince Anduin? –Zugzug

I…

DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT SHIT

ESPECIALLY THE LAST PART OF THAT SHIT

WHICH IS SHITTY SHIT EVEN BY SHIT STANDARDS HOLY SHIT

The fuck is WRONG with you people coming up with this stuff?!

So…excuse me a minute.  I think I need to go sharpen Gorehowl.

[OOC aside, because I love to tease: There is an upcoming comic, already written and partially sketched out, involving Shayari bringing a prospective boyfriend to meet Garrosh. Yes, really.]

Out of sheer curiosity, any other pastry loves *besides* lemon squares? –Aranya Ver’sarn

Lime squares.  A pale imitation, but they’ll do in a pinch.

I have also been known on occasion to pick up one of those giant chocolate chip cookies and spend the afternoon strolling around Orgrimmar munching while I’m doing my business.  One of my prouder moments, actually, was one time when I was doing that, and D and/or U, whoever the fuck because who even cares enough to remember, started bugging me about that shit, and I actually managed to knock him out by smacking him over the head WITH the giant cookie.

So, you know, that’s…wait for it…the way the cookie crumbles.  (THAT’S RIGHT, GARROSH GOT JOKES)

Has anyone turned down your lemon squares, and did they survive it? How successful were they among the draenai ladies? –@SintraEdrien

 You know, I don’t usually get in the habit of running around OFFERING the lemon squares.  People are much more likely to come rolling up on me ASKING for them, especially since word about them leaked onto the internet, and from that point, hoo boy, every motherfucker with an Azeroth Online account figured they could just hit me up for a sample, because when you make the internet easy enough for any fuckhead to use, every fuckhead will.

Where was I?

But…no.  I can’t think of anyone who ever turned down the lemon squares.  Even with as much fail as I have surrounding me in a usual day at the office, even THOSE failures don’t fail enough to fail to notice the lemony awesomeness of Greatmother’s recipe.  I would guess if they did they would pretty definitely find a way to screw up their chances with the draenei girls.  I, on the other hand, rarely have problems when I offer some sweets to the ladies, draenei or otherwise, seeing as, y’know, #TheLadiesLoveGarrosh.

Hang on.  Is Shay reading this?  Where’s that delete key again?  SPAZZLE!

How much do you weigh? –Jordyn

7’2″, 340 lbs. of pure muscle.

And bone.

And sinew.

And…internal…body part…um… organs and… kidney stones…erm… YOU GET THE POINT.

As a leader, what are the toughest decisions you have to make? Lok’tar Ogar –@DonnerB123

The toughest ones, no surprise, are the biggest ones.  Which pretty much come down to decisions of life and death.  Like…literally, who to kill and who not to kill.  Really brief cases in point: there was that time a was back (and some of you people might not even have been reading here when this was going on, which raises the question WHY THE FUCK NOT), when me and Mokvar and a few others were trapped in this alternate timeline where Dranosh Saurfang was still alive…only pretty much the only way for us to save the Horde was for me to pretty much kill him.  On the other hand… every day, here in Orgrimmar, I’m surrounded by the Dontrags and Utvochs and Lor’themars and whoever the fuck elses, one annoying fucker after another griping about nuisance after nuisance…and I have to decide NOT to kill them.  Because reasons.  I guess.

We live in an imperfect world, DonnerB123.  An ugly, imperfect world.

So . . . I simply can’t seem to get the hang of this: Is it Dontvoch and Utrag, or Dontut and Vochtrag? My head hurts . . . –@SintraEdrien

 Nobody knows, Sintra.  Nobody fucking knows.

Would you ever want to return to Nagrand? –@Malkorok_

Oh, hey, Malk.  Taking a break from reading that Cribbage for Fucking Idiots guide I gave you, huh?

Anyway… Would I want to return to Nagrand, like to visit?  Sure.  I’ve been back a couple times to see Greatmother.  Not for a while now, granted, but still.  So yeah, it would be nice to see the old place again, one of these days, when things calm down.

Return for good, though?  Doubt it.  Nagrand’s always going to be home, mind you, but my life is in Azeroth now.  The past is the past, and all that, and you can’t go back.  Well, you can, but, you know…well, don’t remind me.  FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

When are you finally going to get married? –@Greatmom_Geyah

Oh, hey, check out the timing there.  I was just talking about you, Greatmother.

And…yeah.  Okay, Greatmother, look.  We’re all adults here, so I’m going to be real with you.  You know the old saying, right?  Why buy the cow, when you literally have dozens of hot women of every description lining up around Grommash Hold for a chance to take turns at…

Hang on.

Is Shayari reading this or not?  Can somebody go check on this for me?  Seriously.

Warchief, watch out for elven ships around durotar… Your habit of antagonizing the idiot in charge of Silvermoon could have repercussions, now that they’re stockpiling Mogu weaponry. Possibly Forsaken ships too, you KNOW those two are in bed. Figuratively. Though maybe this is the elves ending that? What do you think about this? –Ritaba

Okay… I’m not sure if this is actually a question, but… Let me put it this way, Ritaba.  Ask me again how worried I am about Regent-Lord Hair-Care rising up like an avenging demon (*chortle*) and rallying his wrathful people (*guffaw*) to unleash a blood wave of vengeance on me.

Yeah.  Like zero…

Dear Warchief- could you pleeeease appoint us a leader? Ever since the last Sunstrider went wacko on us, we’ve been lost… –@SintraEDrien

 …aaaaaand here’s case in point as to why.

What is your favorite place in all of Azeroth? –Orgrimmar Travel Agency

You know what?  You probably wouldn’t guess this, but Mulgore.  I really like Mulgore.  Reminds me of Nagrand a lot — rolling plains, open skies, all that kind of thing.

Honorable mention for weekends and vacations: What happens at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace, stays at Gallywix’s Pleasure Palace.

Least favorite: Ashenvale.  I hate Ashenvale.  For multiples reasons, most of which revolve the same fel-forsaken part of it.

Warchief, I must know,
Much is known of the Kor’kron’s activities in Pandaria, and the Blackrock clan’s work in Orgrimmar and abroad. But what of your Warsong clan? They have been inactive since the Cataclysm, as far as anyone can tell. Do you have any big plans for them coming up? –Grottee Metalbeard, goblin shaman

Now see, I can understand how this could have caused some confusion.  Because yeah, the Warsong clan came with me up to Northrend, and they represented a big chunk of our forces when I was in command up there.  And then in the time right after the Cataclysm, they were pretty active in Ashenvale (which is not, I might have mentioned, on my list of Favorite Places Ever).  And so, yeah, since then, I can see how it might look to you like they’ve gone fairly inactive, but that’s just because the clan hasn’t been operating as much as a singular force.  See, before I became Warchief, I was chieftain of the clan, so they represented the main bulk of the forces under my command.  Now, though, I have ALL the orcish clans under my jurisdiction, so there isn’t as much need for me to be lining up jobs for the Warsong specifically.  They’ve been keeping busy, just not in a way that makes you go “the Warsong orcs are doing THIS over THERE.”  Some of them were part of Nazgrim’s detachment heading down to Pandaria, a lot of them have been recruited into the ranks of the Kor’kron along with more than a few Blackrocks, others have been assigned to some other operations I have going on around Orgrimmar.  So they’re just getting around more.  Spread the love!  And by “love,” I mean, of course, “bloody fist of retribution.”

If Varian begged for mercy would you? a: mock him, b: cut off his head, c: take over SW, d: all of the above –@SintraEDrien

Sorry, I can’t get past the first five words without cackling maniacally so hard I fall out of my chair.

Heh. Heheh.

HAAAAA!

What’s your earliest memory? –@LibFeathers

You know, my VERY earliest memories aren’t really specific memories of particular events, just the sort of odds and ends that most people remember.  My childhood in Nagrand, obviously — I can remember back, vaguely, to when I was around five or so.  My mom was still alive then, so I remember her, and I remember us fighting through the red pox as best we could…which, let me tell you, SUCKED.  There was the pet clefthoof I had back then, y’know, before meat supplies started getting thin that one winter, and there was me getting to be friends with Dranosh.  We hung out a lot back then, fishing and hunting and stuff — me and Dranosh and Jorin Deadeye, actually, back before Jorin turned out to be a dick.  Um… probably my earliest memories of specific events all revolved around my mom — the day when Greatmother told me she’d died, for one.  And one, a little while before that, back when the pox was still going on.  I’d woken up from this nightmare, and she and I stayed up a while talking about it, and it’s nothing really momentous or even important, but it was just one of those little things that stick with you, you know?  Anyway…that’s it for early memories.  Not fun, I know.  But like…if something’d going to stick in your head from THAT young, it’s almost always going to be something bad, right?

By any chance would you be willing to add any pandaren cultural festivals to be acknowledged? Brewfest does not count. –@ShenWeiPureblossom

Funny coincidence — you should totally go talk to Ji about this.  I’ve heard he was talking to some of the other pandas about carrying over some custom you guys had on your wandering turtle island whatever-the-fuck is was, some kind of outdoor festival with noodles or something?  Check in with Lunchbox about this, he could probably use a hand setting it up.  Hell, I might even try to whip something up myself for it, if it happens.  Like I’ve been saying, it’s been too long since I got in the kitchen.

[More OOC teasing: This is indeed on the way. In the not-too-distant future, the Pandaren Noodle Festival comes to Orgrimmar, in a comic/transcript featuring… well… almost the entire damn supporting cast.]

Hail Warchief Hellscream! It has been some time since I have found the time to reply to your writings as things have been quite busy up in Hearthglen lately. Especially with the arrival of his gracious young Highness, Prince Anduin, while he convalesces at Mardenholde for a time. Something about a bell, if I recall. Anyway, onto the question before I tarry on too long.

I had heard from a rather reliable source who would prefer anonymity that some months ago, you suffered from an invasion in Orgrimmar. Was this true, and what occurred? –Tirion Fordring

Oh geez…here we go.  Well, at least T-Ford managed to keep it under 5000 words.

So…yeah.  I don’t know if I would call it an INVASION, but… a little while back, yeah, there was…an incident.  This goes back a few months… May, I think?  Anyway, I’m hanging around in Grommash Hold, right?  Just minding my own business, plotting world domination, same ol’ same ol’.  A regular day at the office.  When all of a sudden, out of like NOWHERE, these gnomes start running into the place.  And at first, I’m like, DAMMIT MALKOROK, how about some security up in this piece, but then I see the sheer NUMBER of them — there’s hundreds of these motherfuckers.  Maybe even THOUSANDS of them.  Which, if you know how I feel about gnomes, was just filling me with a level of glee that could have wiped out all life in the universe.

Thing of it is, this wasn’t some actual invasion or ATTACK from the fuckers down in Gnomergan, or…wherever they fuck they’re living these days.  The part of Gnome-ville that’s not fucking glowing from radiation and shit.  Anyhow, THESE gnomes are all like…the noobiest, weakest, saddest little excuses for underpowered gnomes you’ve ever seen — and seriously, do you KNOW how fucking SAD someone has to be for me to be forced to coin the phrase “underpowered gnomes”?

And so in they come, in sheer numbers too big for the guards to stop them all on the way in — though, believe me, if you saw the trail of bodies you’d know they fucking TRIED — and they come flooding like rats into Grommash Hold, only if they were rats I might actually worry about it more because FLEAS.  And here’s the punchline — when they finally got close to me, you know what they’re big finishing move was?  They all kept trying to hug and kiss me.  Like my foot or some shit.  Until I popped a bladestorm, and, you know, eight trillion dead gnomes.

Which is a beautiful way to line up four words, I gotta say.

Do you like to dance? –Jordyn

Draw your own conclusions.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oc0DmOHSQ4w

Do you think that maybe Mokvar and Deliana were ever married in a previous life? They seem so . . . together. –@SintraEDrien

DUDE, I don’t know WHAT the fuck to think about those two.  Would it SURPRISE me?  No.  I am WAY past the point where fucking ANYTHING could surprise me around here.  So much weird shit has gone on around here the last few years, I consider NOTHING off the menu.  Mokvar and that human chick married?  Sure, maybe.  Half-draenei daughter from years back turns up at the front door?  Why the fuck not?  Ji Deep-Dish floats around in a fucking balloon and gets his pudgy ass stuck in a honey tree?  Sounds normal to me.  For real, man, at this point fucking Draz’Zilb the ogre could show up riding Onyxia, who’s been reanimated for like the forty-seventh time as far as anybody can count, with Anduin on a leash dressed like in a bear suit, and when Draz belches Anduin’s been conditioned to tell a knock-knock joke, and my reaction would be “Yeah, sure, why didn’t I see it coming?”  WELCOME TO AZEROTH, WHERE THE BOTTOMLESS CUP OF WHAT THE FUCK FLOWS FREELY IN ALL DIRECTIONS.

Warchief, I really loved your poem about your pet clefthoof, it really brought a tear to my eye. Could you please share another sample of your EPIC VERSE from your childhood back in Garadar? –Khizzara

Hmm… okay, let me dig out the old journal and see if I can find something for you.  Now, keep in mind, my poems back in those days weren’t nearly as polished, but let’s see…

Okay.

There was a little orc
Who ate a little pork
Over in the breakfast nook
And when he was bad
He wished that he was good
Cause Greatmom’s got a mean right hook

EPIC VERSE!

Wait… that’s… yeah, that one maybe doesn’t come off looking so good.

Um… I’ll see what else I can find.

When will you ever figure out that the constant stream of adventurers coming to annoy you about gold were sent from me? –@M_Grimtotem

OH FUCK YOU, MAGATHA

So for anyone who missed this, a ways back, Madame Upright Hamburger here stirred up some shit on Twitter, where she went on about having hidden a stash of gold somewhere in my damn throne room, and offering it as a giveaway to anyone who could find it.  Which set off a borderline-noob-gnome-like influx of random motherfuckers running into Grommash Hold and trying to turn the damn place upside down looking for the loot.  So finally, FINALLY, after Malkorok and his people rounded up and fucking executed like I don’t even know how many of these people, my throne room stopped being the hot spot for random asshats to go hang out.  You know, aside from the random asshats who hang out there professionally.  And before anybody starts getting all excited, let me reiterate: THERE IS NO TREASURE HIDDEN IN MY THRONE ROOM, OKAY?  Seriously.  The last thing I want to have happen a little ways down the road is like another ten or fifteen or twenty-five random people to come running through into my command room expecting to collect loot.

What’s the latest between you and Zaela? –@MyGarona

Look, Greatmom, I’ve told you, stop trying to… wait.

Garona?

Seriously?

Jealous much?

Look, there’s nothing going on with me and Zaela, okay?

…that you need to concern yourself with.

<waggle>

What’s the deal with people thinking Mokvar and I are a couple? No matter how many times I try, I can’t convince ANYONE! –Deliana Hawthorne

Because, see, Lor’themar can say he’s a dude, and he can call himself a dude, and he can stroll around all day in dude’s clothes and using all the right pronouns and shit, and he can talk himself red in the face trying to tell everybody he’s a dude, but at the end of the day, people with eyes and still look at him and see that he’s Lor’themar.

Also, who the hell let HER in here?  MALK!  How about some security, dammit?!

What’s your favorite tipple? Beer? Wine? Liquor? If any, what variety do you enjoy in particular? –@SintraEDrien

Holy shit, Sintra, you’ve sure got a lot of questions.

I’m pretty simple as far as my drinking tastes go.  Beer and grog, a some rum on occasion.  They have some pretty good varieties out of Stranglethorn, so I’ll pick up a bottle or two when I have the chance.  Maybe a little cherry grog on occasion, but that’s about as fancy as I get with it.  Although, you want to know who’s MAJORLY into the weird fruity drinks, like those ones that come with the little umbrellas every single time like there’s a fucking law prohibiting their sale without them, like drinking the drink has a chance of proccing rain and the damn umbrella has to be included as a fucking safety measure?  Malkorok.  No joke.  Dude can’t suck down enough of that shit.

Your guess is as good as mine.

Why don’t you like us? We just want to help. –@Dontrag_Utvoch

Do you want me to get into the list chronologically, alphabetically, or in order of importance?

You know what?  It’s not even worth it.  It’s like…fuck, it’s like trying to explain to the damn wolf pup why you’re yelling at it two hours after it peed on the carpet.  What’s even the fucking point?

Although…you know what’s funny?  Check it: Damned if I can remember which of these fuckers is which, but I know, rank-wise, Dontrag is a sergeant, and Utvoch is a scout.  Now it’s kinda-sorta funny that after like nine years in the Horde military, Utvoch still hasn’t managed to get promoted above the absolute lowest possible rank there is.  Like, the day you show up, they make you a scout, and here he is a decade later and he’s STILL only managed to keep himself half a rung up from peon.

So that’s good for a chuckle.  But you want to know the disturbing part?  Back when I first met General Nazgrim, in Northrend, dude was rank sergeant.  So that means that until I took over and started doing promotions and reassignments, fucking DONTRAG AND NAZGRIM WERE THE SAME DAMN RANK.

On the other hand, I suppose we don’t know for sure that Dontrag COULDN’T steer a ship in a straight line without crashing it, so…

Anyhow.  Okay, one more, so let’s see what we’ve got to wrap up.

When are we going to hear the rest of @Mokvar_Scribe‘s tale? The people want answers! –Deliana Hawthorne

Wait, her again?  DAMMIT MALKOROK, GET ON THIS!

But, okay, to answer your question:

Starting…NOW.*

That’s it for questions for tonight.  Thanks to all of my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS for contributing, and to all of my enemies who came by, FUCK YOU ALL BUT THANKS FOR THE PAGEVIEWS, NOW HIT RFRESH A FEW MORE TIMES THEN CROAK.

I’m out, people.  More soon.

* * * * *

*VERY soon, in fact — as an added perk for those of you who’ve stayed this late into the going, well…count to ten, click back to the main page, and rejoin the ongoing tale of Mokvar, Garrosh, and more!

Meanwhile, for those of you coming late to the party, don’t worry, you haven’t missed your chance to pose your questions to the Warchief — there’s always his monthly mailbag!  Next edition coming March 2!  Feel free to e-mail, or use the handy-dandy form below:

The Liebster Award comes to Orgrimmar

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 14, 2014 by Garrosh Hellscream

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So this one was a surprise.  Here I was, going through my volumes and volumes of fan mail LIKE I GET ON A DAILY BASIS, and lo and behold, I get a message from someone nominating me for an award.  The someone in question was Myriade, writer of Myriadoscope, and the award in question was something called the Liebster Award, which I didn’t really know anything about at the time but which I could already say with confidence that I DAMN WELL FUCKING DESERVED.

So I did a little looking around to see what the deal was with this award, and what I would need to do to beat out the other nominees to win it, like if there was honorable combat involved because holy crap you know I would be all over that shit, but, come to find out, it doesn’t work that way.  There’s no final WINNER, just a chain of nominees naming other nominees to draw people’s attention to other blogs.  Which is kind of cool, as far as spreading the word about good reads, even if it IS a little hippie for my tastes what with the “we’re all winners!” vibe, which, come on.

Anyway.  Here’s the quasi-official description of the award, which everybody seems to be quoting, because it’s the hip thing to do these days:

Well, it is only an AWESOME award given to up and coming bloggers. Given by other up and coming bloggers. It’s a cool way to find other blogs and feel like you are getting into the blogging stratosphere. It is simple, you get nominated by someone else, mention their page and a link to their blog in your Liebster Award Post, answer the 11 questions they give you, then tag 11 other nominees and give them a new set of 11 questions to answer.

So, as you can see, receiving the nomination means I have some work to do now.  FUCKING AWESOME IDEA FOR AN AWARD, FOLKS, HONOR PEOPLE BY STICKING THEM WITH FUCKING HOMEWORK.  Anyway.  Here are the 11 questions from Myriade:

1.  Favourite race/class in WoW and why?

Quick note on the lingo here: Those of you who aren’t as internet-savvy as yours truly might be a little thrown off by that “WoW” acronym.  Apparently it’s a new thing in online circles to use that as an abbreviation for “Whole of World,” as in, fucking everywhere.  Which, granted, is kind of like how some people will literally say “LOL” now rather than just laughing, which I’ve never really gotten on board with myself, because fuck those assholes.  Anyway.

As for the actual question, I mean, come on, you even need to ask this?  Orc, because what the fuck else would I want to be, and warrior.

2.  Achievement/Title you’re proudest of?

Obviously, the easy answer here is the title of Warchief.  Hard to top that one.  Still, I could probably make a case for Chieftain of the Warsong Clan, since that one came from me pulling my emo head out of my ass to assume my place as leader of our clan and Grom’s successor.

But, nah, I’m still going to go with Warchief.

Although, since I’m probably going to be heading down to Blackrock Mountain soon, I may have to see about picking up [Leeeeeeeeeeeeeroy!] while I’m in the neighborhood.

3.  What’s in your bags (any character, or all of them)?

Huh.  I’m not sure if this is asking about real life, or my Earth Online characters.  I mean, for myself in reality, I don’t really walk around with a whole lot of stuff on me.  (Such as, you know, a shirt.)  I try not to weigh myself down more than I have to, seeing as I need to be ready to leap into action at a moment’s notice, and really, keeping Mannoroth’s tusks balanced on my shoulders can be a tough enough job on its own, without lugging extra crap around with me.

As for my EO toons, hoo boy, they have flat-out TOO MUCH stuff in their bags.  Just tons of random crap, receipts from vendors, little odds and ends that they’ve picked up but aren’t really useful for anything but I still haven’t ever gotten around to tossing.  And by the way, I just have to ask, who the fuck is the psychopath over at Genesis Entertainment who designed the bag system in Earth Online?  Dude, you can’t carry fucking ANYTHING with you!  You pick up like six or seven things, and your bags are full.  Have these game designers never left their houses or something, so they don’t even know about stacks of 20?!

4.  Favourite expansion/instance/boss fight?

Huh.  Another Earth Online question.  Okay.  Well, there’s still plenty of content I’ve never gotten around to, to be honest, but I’m pretty fond of the BlizzCon raid.  It’s always kind of a hoot seeing which random contestant spawns you get in the cosplay gauntlet leading up to the Joker Jay <Host with the Mohr– er, Most> boss.  But I think my favorite encounter is the Lore Panel council fight — you know, the one with the lead quest design guy, and the historian adds, and most of all the council leader guy, Chris what’s-his-face, the dude with the beard who kinda sounds like Varian.  I LOVE getting to run up and smack that guy in the face.  Especially if it’s one of those pulls where he randomly mind controls me for a minute and makes to do some shit that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.

5.  Pet peeve in WoW?

Wait, you want me to narrow this down to one?  I don’t know about that.  But here’s a few, off the top of my head:

Humans.

Gnomes. OMFG gnomes.

Whoever it is who keeps using the last of the toilet paper in the Grommash Hold outhouse and not putting out a new roll.  (Your Warchief does NOT like having to do the Waddle of Shame over to the storage shed.)

Dontrag.

Utvoch.

“There”/”their”/”they’re”.  Because FUCK YOU, internet:

grammar

Varian, especially the way he keeps breathing.

Being corrected on which one is Dontrag and which one is Utvoch, as if anybody really gives a shit.

6.  What inspired your blog?

I think I mentioned this way back in my first post.  It all got started when Eitrigg recommended I take up blogging.  He said I might find it a helpful outlet, to talk about what’s on my mind, keep a running record of my experiences, all that sort of thing.  I think he figured it would give me a chance to reflect more, and think about situations before acting.  Or some lazy old man shit like that.  Anyway, that’s how it got started, and it’s just been a gravy train of awesome since then.  AREN’T YOU LUCKY.

7.  Favourite blog-related moment?

Umm… Well, considering I detail almost everything that happens to me here, pretty much any moment from the last couple of years would be a blog-related moment, right?  Gotta say, that one mailbag where Windblossom wrote in about clocking Varian still gives me all kinds of happy.  Memory lane:

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I’m sure there others.  I might point out others as I think of them.

8.  One thing you can’t live without?

Okay, okay, go ahead and make your joke about lemon squares.

Real answer?  Sappy as it sounds, Gorehowl.  Not even for what an awesome weapon it is, either.  Having it with me is like a constant, living (but not) reminder of where I’ve come from, of the legacy of my father and the resilience of the Horde, of everything our people have endured and overcome.  Having it with me is like a validation of our kind.  Like a little part of Grom is still here, watching what he enabled us to become.

9.  Place you’d most like to visit?

Hmm.  You know, I’ve gotten around a whole lot the last few years, between the Northrend campaign, and all my inspection visits around Azeroth, and now all our work in Pandaria…  I’m not sure if there’s really anywhere I haven’t gotten to see at this point, other than, like, other planets and shit.  Or, say, getting to see places I know, like back home on Draenor, back before things got all fucked up.  But that would be changing WHERE I’d most like to visit to WHEN I’d most like to visit, which is cheating, for one thing, and also, FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

10.  Favourite fictional character?

At the risk of being repetitive, this guy:

metzen

I mean, can you imagine if someone like that actually existed?

11.  Soundtrack to your life?

Well, most days, when things are going fairly well, it’s pretty much this:

 

 

But there’s also this:

 

 

And this:

 

 

(Also, in that one, note the Mortimer cameo at 3:24!)

And, let’s face it, given the clowns I usually have surrounding me, some days I feel like it might as well be this:

 

 

And last but not least, if I’m honest, when I’m in one of my more puckish moods, this:

 

 

Also, the kazzoo?  That’s totally me.

 

So, next up.  This is the part where I’m supposed to link 11 more blogs, and give those bloggers 11 questions of their own to answer.  One problem, though — I was going back through some blogs to tag, and while there are a few that still haven’t gotten a nomination already, for every one I found that no one had gotten to, there were like 10 would-be nominees that were already off the table.  So, you know, if you do the math there, that means that in order to pull together my 11, I would have to rifle through something like 110 blogs, and, I mean…I’m just way too lazy for that shit.  I mean really.

SO.  Here’s where I cheat a little and change things up, so I can still do some tagging and point some attention to some worthy bloggers, while also indulging my laziness.  STAND BACK, BITCHES, because your Warchief is about to flip the script like Lor’themar flips benches.

SO, here’s the deal.  I’m still going to toss out 11 questions to be answered, but instead of scraping together a blog list to tag, I am tagging…YOU.  That’s right, you — if you’re reading this post, consider yourself tagged, so you scroll your ass right down to the comments and post a reply with your 11 answers.  NO DUCKING OUT ON THIS COMMAND FROM YOUR WARCHIEF, PEOPLE.  Especially if you’re one of my regular readers and commenters — I know you’re out there, and I know who you are, and most importantly I KNOW WHERE MANY OF YOU LIVE.

And now, the questions.  READ ’EM AND WEEP.

  1. Do you write a blog?  Link it here if so!
  2. What was the first Azerothian blog you ever read?  Was there an early memorable post that hooked you?
  3. Recommended reading, part one!  Link and endorse three bloggers that you’d encourage your fellow readers and minions should check out.
  4. Recommended reading, part two — link one single post, from wherever, that makes you think “OMG, people HAVE to read this.”
  5. How long have you been reading the Command Board?  What post or storyline was your jumping-on point?
  6. One more chance for shameless self-promotion: Are you on Twitter?  Give yourself a non-Friday #FF here if so.  Also feel free to recommend a few accounts worth following.
  7. What class do you play on Earth Online?  (Don’t try to deny that you play.  I know my readers.)
  8. What real-life ability to do you wish your Earth Online character could use?
  9. Here, I’ll throw a bone to Utvoch.  The age-old hoof question: Fem-taur or draenei girls?
  10. Whose head would you rather have on a pike, Varian’s or Magatha’s?
  11. If the world were going to end (or change substantially) in, say, oh, six months or so, what would be your bucket list of things you’d want to get done first?

There, you have your assignment.  Get to it!  YOUR WARCHIEF HAS SPOKEN.

Clobberin’ time

Posted in Comics with tags , , , , , , , , , on November 11, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream

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[OOC Preliminaries:  Okay, so yes, I know, I’ve been criminally slow in updating the blog.  I’ve been caught in an all-too-busy real life these last few months, and even when I have had some free time after work, I often haven’t had the mental energy to work on anything that required much focus.  And I didn’t want to just toss stuff on here that was half-assed.  Whole-assed only for my readers!  (That sounded better in my head.)  Anyway, thank you for your patience.  I don’t want to make any sweeping promises that I won’t end up keeping, but I should be able to get back to more of a normal schedule from here on.]

[Also:  Don’t think I’ve forgotten about my idea to do a blog-friends Siege of Orgrimmar group!  More on that very shortly!]

[Also also: DAMMIT, Blizzard, I already DID that idea.  FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.]

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So, getting back to the long-overdue story of what the hell happened in those caves.  More specifically, what the hell happened after I turned that corner and found Varian giving me the OH HAI GAIS face.

How about THAT, by the way, huh?

So, yeah, as you might imagine, Varian and I were pretty quick to recognize this as the opportunity it was for the two of us to sit down and hash out our differences like adults.

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For whom the bell tolls

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 11, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream

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Well THAT was a big whole production to go through for not much of anything.

Last night, I gathered a select group of Horde personnel at the Emperor’s Reach – an ancient, abandoned mogu structure that we found in Kun-Lai – to finally tap into the power of the Divine Bell.  Malkorok brough a battalion of Kor’kron troops to oversee the proceedings, including some who were hand-picked to have the honor of being the first to be gifted with new power.  The best of the best.  Juggernauts.

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Blademaster Ishi was on hand as well, along with a few other select Horde heroes from the Pandaren campaign, and once everyone was gathered and ready, I took up the hammer…mallet…um…weird-looking club doohicky?  Look, for honest, I’m not sure WHAT that thing was supposed to be.  But it was better suited for ringing a bell than Gorehowl would have been, so whatever.  Point is, I cracked out that bad boy, and for the first time in who-knows-how-long, the Divine Bell rang.

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And so marks the last point in the evening that things went to plan.

As the Bell rang, we could see the dark, shadowy outlines of bizarre, twisted creatures appearing on the platform.  Transparent and shifting, but just enough to know they were there.  So THAT’S what these sha look like.  Up to this point, I’d only seen them in bits and pieces – claws mostly – when they’d partly seized onto other people.

Yes, I said “partly.”  I wouldn’t have thought that what happened to Burzum was only partial corruption by the sha.  Little did I know.  Because now, I was treated to a front-row seat as, one by one, the sha descended onto our Kor’kron juggernauts…and transformed them into sha themselves.  They were horrible to behold – I can see why the pandas and even Tak-Tak yammer on about steering clear of them.  I tried to urge the Kor’kron on and encourage them to seize control of the sha energy coursing through them, but no such luck.  They couldn’t.  They lost themselves to it.  And in the end there was nothing to be done but for the Horde champions on hand to slay the Kor’kron-turned-sha before they ran out of control.

Clearly, Malkorok had overestimated the mental toughness of that first batch of Kor’kron.  I was just about to let Ishi show the rest of the bunch how a true veteran of the Mag’har does it, when I was interrupted by a surprise visitor.

Want to know who?

YOU WILL NOT FUCKING BELIEVE THIS SHIT.

Anduin.

Yes, THAT Anduin.

emperorsreach4

Anduin Wrynn, Prince of Stormwind.

Anduin fucking Wrynn, Prince of Stormwind, former prisoner of General Nazgrim until who the fuck even knows what happened I mean WTF, and newest volunteer to be a speechifying hemorrhoid on my curvy brown ass, because, hey, why not give fucking EVERYONE a turn at this point, right?

So, yeah, fucking ANDUIN comes strolling on up like it’s something to do – props, by the way, to my alleged BODYGUARD Malkorok for the crack security job there – and starts yapping away about the dangers of the Bell, and Garrosh-you-mustn’t.  You know, the ol’ Baine-Vol’jin standard.  Same tune, different verse.

Worked just about as well for him.  I shrugged him off and rang the Bell again, and this time, the sha magic descended onto Ishi.  Unlike the initial Kor’kron, he actually put up a fight and resisted…for a moment, anyway.  Then, after a minute, he was altered into a sha as well.  Except in his case, even with his body gone, his voice remained.

His voice, but not his words.

While our champions fought to subdue him, Ishi started spewing out words consumed by fear and rage and despair.  No sign remaining of the strong, brave orc I knew, despite my urging for him to retake control.

In the end, there was nothing left – again – but for our champions to put him to rest.  But of all his rantings before he fell, there was one that kept echoing in my thoughts.

Why should we be slaves to honor, when we could slaughter the children of our enemies while they sleep?  My blade thirsts for Alliance blood!

Control your anger, I told him.  There is killing, and then there is murder, I told him.  We’re not the ones who murder innocents.  We’re no the ones who kill children, confused and far from home.  Left to rot in a festering swamp.  Baited into a coward’s trap, tricked into an early death by a vainglorious king…

And then I looked up to find the presumptuous whelp of Varian Wrynn yipping at me.

He was fourteen years old.

Among the orcs, that made him a man.

The human brat used some mallet to crack and silence the Divine Bell, and I was far past my threshold for patience.  I swung my hammer at him.  He ducked out of the way, and the blow slammed into the Bell, which was already cracking apart.  The Bell shattered, and the pieces crumbled onto the whelp, burying him under a massive heap of metal and stone.  I could hear him cry out as his bones snapped.  Then silence.

Good.  Let Varian have a taste of true suffering.

It’s back to the drawing board for us.  For now.  I’d underestimated the effort it would take to master this sha power.  Ishi and the others were too weak-willed, and they failed me as a result.

This is what I get for not taking matters into my own hands.

When the time comes, soon, I won’t repeat their failure.  And I won’t repeat the mistake of delegating our fate to lesser orcs.  Too much depends on it.  Too high a price already.  The Horde will pervail, strong, proud, united in purpose – a rebirth of glory.  And it all depends on me to lead the way.  It’s ALWAYS depended on me.  I see that now.

I won’t fail.  I CAN’T fail.

I have a destiny.

I’m the One.

Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge: EPIC VERSE live blog

Posted in EPIC VERSE with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 14, 2013 by Garrosh Hellscream

epicverse2

Those of you who were reading the blog last year at this time will remember Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – when, in honor of National Poetry Month, I called upon my LOYAL READERS AND MINIONS to give me suggestions for a whole slew of EPIC VERSE masterpieces.  You all stepped up to the plate (well, those of you who were here at the time…and for those of you who weren’t, WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?), and we had a month full of EPIC VERSE goodness.

This year, as I announced a couple weeks ago, I’m continuing the Poetry Challenge tradition with a live blog.  Yes, that’s right, it’s the SECOND ANNUAL Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge – sure to be an annual tradition for years and years to come.

For tonight’s lyrical explosion of spontaneous awesomeness, I’m once again calling on you all to inspire your Warchief.  Here’s how this is going to work: when this post goes live, you’re all invited to use the comments to post your ideas and suggestions – you can give topics, themes, characters, turns of phrase, ANYTHING you think might make for a good starting point to give me ideas for what I’m going to write.  (Try to keep your suggestions here in the comments, rather than Twitter/Facebook/wherever, so your fellow readers and I can see them all in one place.)

Starting at 8:00 PM EDT, I’ll begin the live blog by adding to this post.  At that point, I’ll start composing a new EPIC VERSE masterpiece (or masterpieces?) based on the suggestions you’ve given.  Feel free to keep offering new ideas as we go along – I might incorporate new suggestions into the poem I’m writing, or maybe use them for ANOTHER new poem before the night is out.  We’ll just see how it goes.  In any case…once the live blog has started, keep refreshing this page.  I’ll be adding to the post incrementally as I write, and you’ll get to watch your Warchief’s latest EPIC VERSE composed right before your eyes, in progress.

Kind of like getting to see how the sausage gets made.  If the sausage was made from the ground meat of the SUPER AWESOME UBER-BEAST RAISED IN THE PARADISE FIELDS OF GENIUS AND FED A STEADY DIET OF SOLIDIFIED PERFECTION AND BADASSERY.

*  *  *  *  *

Okay, kids, the show’s about to begin.  I’m going to take a moment and take a look at what we’ve got for suggestions so far, and maybe give the latecomers a minute or two to get their initial suggestions in before I get rolling.  Keep the ideas coming as we go, and I may still work them in as I’m able…

Remember, keep refreshing this page to watch the live blog unfold in progress.

*  *  *  *  *

The Dontrag and the Utvoch came
To celebrate the season,
And brought such pain to any brain
Imbued with any reason.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch asked
The Warchief for permission
To undertake — for sure, half-baked –
A Noblegarden mission.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch told
The Warchief of their plan:
To gather eggs from hopping legs
That bounced around the land.

The Warchief, for his part, approved,
And told them to proceed.
(He thought, of course, the only source
For this could be felweed.)

The Dontrag and the Utvoch ran
Across the Four-Winds Valley,
And high and low sought eggs to go
Into their final tally.

Then near a burrow, D&U
Saw wrigglin’ and squirmin’,
When to the ground, with mighty bound
Leapt out a giant virmen.

The Dontrag cried, “Move fast, Utvoch!
Don’t let it run off!  Grab it!”
For sure, he thought, they had just caught
The Noblegarden Rabbit.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch pounced
And lunged with all their might –
Though in no story was their quarry
Such a daunting height.

They found the Rabbit’s fury one
That not a one surpasses,
So by the end, their hoppy friend
Had badly kicked their asses.

The Warchief, when the pair returned,
Was unsure, sad or funny,
Which best to say, to know that they’d
Been beat on by a bunny.

The Dontrag and the Utvoch mused,
“At least we didn’t die.”
And down they sat on asses fat
And dined on humble pie.

EPIC V—

That was weak.

The FUCK?  Who the hell is this?!

What, you still don’t recognize me, Hellscream?  I thought you were good at spotting me online now.

Wait, don’t tell me this is—  Hang on.

SPAZZLE!

What’s up, boss?

The likelihood of me drop-kicking your green ass back to the Lost Isles, for starters.

That’s it.  Throw another hissy fit and alienate even more of your own people.  That’s a formula for success.

Oh…oh no.  Don’t tell me Varian broke into the blog again.

OH I’M TELLING YOU EXACTLY THAT, MOTHERFUCKER

Have you considered anger management classes, by the way?

What the hell happened to the SECURITY thingywhatsises you were supposedly building into the blog, like, FOREVER ago?

Ugh.  It must be that wireless connection you have down there.  I TOLD you Grizzle didn’t know how to set up a reliable network above the level of aluminum cans and some string.

Goddammit.  Well try to get him out of here, will you?  I’ve got a live blog to do.

You mean this exhibition of fail?  Hah.  I couldn’t pass up the chance to look in a watch you make an even bigger jackass of yourself than usual.

Hey, don’t be jealous just because I actually know how to string a few words together, human.

Actually, you know what?  Go ahead and be jealous of that.  Also of all the fans I have, who’ve turned out to bask in the brilliance (BACK ME UP HERE, PEOPLE).  And, oh yeah, of how much smarter and better-looking and all-around more awesome I am.

Hellscream, I haven’t done any writing since I was a kid—

I notice you’re not counting your own blog there.

—but even I could do better than these dimwitted nursery rhymes you’re spewing out.

You know what, asshole?  YOU’RE ON.  Let’s see what you’ve got.

CUE THE AMBIGUOUSLY THIRD-PERSON LEAD-IN!

*  *  *  *  *

EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

GARROSH HELLSCREAM

VS.

VARIAN WRYNN

BEGIN!

*  *  *  *  *

Come on, bring it, Hellscream – hope you’re ready to lose.
I’m pretty sure a basic campfire could rhyme better than you.
I’m the king!  The boss!  I was born to rule!
Thrall took his Doomhammer and left the orcs with a tool.
While I was ruling orc arenas with my wolf-god-modding
You were a whiny emo bitch busy whining and sobbing.
I’ll crush you, Garrosh, and add it to our duel triple feature
’Cause I’m the High King – you’re just a substitute teacher.

I’ve got no time for your Alliance propaganda,
Gonna beat you down so hard you’re gonna think I’m a panda.
You’re facing Garrosh, Lo’gosh – I was put here to pwn ya.
My dad killed Mannoroth; yours got ganked by Garona.
So the Warchief will pour grief and settle some scores:
I’m taking the lok’tar, all the ogar is yours.
No “either/or” in the fate that you deserved:
Crushed beneath the Horde – AND the one getting served.

Sure, hide in daddy’s shadow – I knew you’d bring up Grom,
I don’t remember that he ever had to use a mana bomb.
You’re on your own now, worried yet?  ’Cause your lackeys you’re lackin’ –
You’re not getting bailed out now by your magnataur and kraken.
I’m coming with a gag order, I’ve had more than enough,
You’re so much talk, even your howling axe won’t ever shut up.
You’ve got a skull that’s all tiny, and your jaw’s extra large –
Between your mouth and your brain, I guess that shows who’s in charge.

You’re one to talk jaws, Chin-Boy, yours could carve out a mogu,
I’d call you Scarface but you’ve got no friends to say hello to.
Your scars and fail and ponytail – you’re like Lor’themar Lite.
I’ll bake your pride in lemon squares: here, swallow both in one bite.
You’re defensive, apprehensive; I’m offensive, gone berzerker –
I bet Tiffin cut you off, that’s why you had to screw your workers.
My rhymes are terse and yours are worse, so curse and next time go rehearse,
Now FUCK YOU, VARIAN – that’s

EPIC

fucking

VERSE

<drops mic and walks away like a boss>

*  *  *  *  *

WHO WON?

WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!

EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

 

[Thanks for coming, everyone.  More weirdness soon…]

The Wizard of Zhan, Act 3

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

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

GARROSH:  Okay, so this is the place…

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

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

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

GARROSH:  We’ve come to see the Wizard.

DONTRAG:  The guardian Wizard of Zhan!

UTVOCH:  We hear he’s sage—

Garrosh smacks Utvoch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Berthold disappears inside and the window closes.

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

GARROSH:  How do you know this guy, anyway?

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

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

GARONA:  What’s that supposed to mean?

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

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

GARONA:  Hang on.

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

BERTHOLD:  Yes?

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

BERTHOLD:  Yes!

Berthold slams the window shut.

GARONA:  Well I…I…

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

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

GARROSH:  Anyone else have any bright ideas?

FARANELL:  Garrosh, let me see that Focusing Iris?

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

FARANELL:  Not all of us.

MOKVAR:  Reassuring.

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

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

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

BERTHOLD:  Are you all still here?

FARANELL:  Yeah, so listen—

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

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

BERTHOLD:  Undead?  That must be a horrible fate.

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

Faranell holds up the Focusing Iris.

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

BERTHOLD:  Huh…if you say so, sir…

Berthold disappears inside.

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

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

GARROSH:  Let’s hope.

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

FARANELL:  And there we go.

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

The group walks through the gate.

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

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

A booming voice echoes through the room.

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

GARONA:  Oh boy, here he goes.

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

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

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

MOKVAR:  Is he always like this?

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

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

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

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

MEDIVH:  <looks at Garona>  Oh.  Delightful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Medivh looks around the group, eyeing them carefully.

I will hear your requests.

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

MEDIVHAnd you would do well to still her tongue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MOKVAR:  Dontrag and Utvoch here would like some brains.

UTVOCH:  Indeed, sir!

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

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

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

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

GARONA:  Could you be any more insensitive?

FARANELL:  And some guts for me.

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

MEDIVHEnough of your insipid prattling, insects!

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

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

GARROSH:  Awesome, Wiz.

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

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

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

MOKVAR:  Uh oh.

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

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

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

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

MEDIVHBleat at me no longer, fools!

MOKVAR:  …Ouch.

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

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

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

GARONA:  Yeah.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MEDIVH:  <sighs>  Mortals.

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

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

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

FARANELL:  Okay, here we are!

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

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

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

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

ZHI-ZHIAhhh!  Stop hitting Zhi-Zhi!

DONTRAG:  I know the feeling, ape guy…

ZHI-ZHI:  Get them!  Get them!

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

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

FARANELL:  Plus that wind serpent…

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

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

The monkeys descend in bunches, attacking the group.

The chimp brigade, on the other hand…

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

Magatha descends and begins shooting chain lightning.

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

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

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

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

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

FARANELL:  No.  That wasn’t water.

MOKVAR:  What was it, then?

FARANELL:  Acidic plague.

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

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

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

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

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

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

DONTRAG:  I guess this is good?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here we go.  Mission accomplished.

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

GARROSH:  Don’t I know you from somewhere?

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

GARROSH:  Never heard of it.

MOKVAR:  Well, other than that one time.

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

GARROSH:  <shrugs>  Whatever.

FARANELL:  Portal back to the Wizard?

GARROSH:  Yeah, let’s get a move on.

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

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

DONTRAG:  Sorry, sir.

FARANELL:  Okay, gentlemen, here we go…

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

ZHI-ZHIStill not the one!

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

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

MOKVAR:  You were worried about us?

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

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

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

LIADRIN:  You think I would miss this floor show?

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

LIADRIN:  And then what would you have learned?

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

FARANELL:  You know I’m standing right here.

LIADRIN:  Two valuable life lessons.

GARROSH:  …I seriously need some new friends.

MEDIVHAt any rate.

GARROSH:  Yeah, PLEASE get us back to business.

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

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

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

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

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

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

GARROSH:  Uh, who’s that?

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

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

FARANELL:  Well that’s…odd.

GARROSH:  The hell?

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

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

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

UTVOCH:  I’m confused.

FARANELL:  Imagine our astonishment.

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

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

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

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

MEDIVH:  Much better.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MEDIVH:  Pardon?

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

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

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

Medivh shrugs and turns to Mokvar.

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

Medivh leans closer to Mokvar.

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

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

Now then…you two.

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

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

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

DONTRAG:  Oh.

UTVOCH:  Um…okay…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GARROSH:  The what now?

Liadrin points to the Doomstone in Garrosh’s hands.

Huh… This thing can do it?  How?

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

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

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

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

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

GARROSH:  Come click on the stone.

LIADRIN:  That’s it…go on…

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

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

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

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

MALCHEZAARYou!  You dare?

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

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

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

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

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

Laughing menacingly, Malchezaar draws Gorehowl and brandishes it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MOKVAR:  Liking our odds a lot better this time

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

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

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

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

The applause rises; Barnes walks back offstage.

MOKVAR:  Well that takes care of that.

DONTRAG:  We’re done here now, right?

LIADRIN:  That should do it, yes…

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

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

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

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

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

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

LIADRIN:  That isn’t what happened for you?

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

GARROSH:  And…?

LIADRIN:  Oh…oh no…

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

MOKVAR:  Holy crap…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Faranell nods, still staring at Malchezaar.

MOKVAR:  Edwin, listen—

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

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

There’s no place like home…

Faranell ports out.  The curtain closes.

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