Archive for icecrown citadel

And, if we turn a blind eye to who’s still around canonically…

Posted in EPIC VERSE with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 10, 2015 by Garrosh Hellscream

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EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

VAROK SAURFANG

VS.

THE LICH KING

BEGIN!

LICH KING:

I find the irony delightful and the arrogance sublime
For you to hope in my domain that you could wield the coldest rhymes.
You’ll learn the meaning of fear now, and the chill of the grave;
Not a soul is going to help you – they’re all trapped in my blade.
Every foe that I defeat is a new minion to employ;
You say you named him Dranosh – do you miss your little boy?
I kill fathers and sons; I’ve already slayed the Younger.
Now it’s dinner time, orc…and Frostmourne hungers.

SAURFANG:

You can save your strangulation, its rotation’s gonna switch,
For it seems that Varok Saurfang’s going to have to choke a lich.
Your runeblade has a name and people tremble while beholding;
You know why they fear my axe? It’s the one Saurfang is holding.
Sucking souls; your own: unneeded. Uther’s warning went unheeded.
You might once have been the heir, but you never once succeeded.
You’re the king of Frozen Thrones, but your chilling’s getting thawed,
’Cause I’m the one both factions turn to when they need to kill a god.

LICH KING:

<channeling a spell>
I’d stay to slay you, orc, but there’re things I need to do.
Falric! Marwyn! Bring me his corpse when you’re through.

[The Lich King summons Falric and Marwyn, then exits up a hallway.]

FALRIC:

By your order, my liege!

MARWYN:

                                             This invader shall fall!

FALRIC:

Now your humble soldiers rise to meet their master’s call.
Your despair is so delicious and your fear exhilarating.
Your reputation might precede you, but it’s textbook overrating.
It’s two against one orc and even you can do the math:
Your fate will be no different – none are spared the master’s wrath.

MARWYN:

When the master ravaged Stratholme we were standing by his side,
And we saw the look Terenas made that moment as he died.
Your rhymes are weak as Silvermoon when master went attacking.
Now we’ve surveyed our enemy, and we have found him lacking.

SAURFANG:

I don’t waste my time on red-shirts but since Arthas had to leave,
Come at me, boys, in double file – now eat my verbal
                                                                  CLEAVE.

While your king walks afar
                                     You others cover and flock
To spar, but I’ll knock ajar
                                         One and another and block – so far
Your knocks may shock on par
                                         To smother and sock and scar
But your talk and mocks won’t mar
                                              The brother of Broxigar.
You took all your best shots but every one of them missed;
You’re getting schooled, children –

[Saurfang cleaves both Falric and Marwyn’s heads off with one swing.]

                                                     Now class is dismissed.

[Saurfang heroic leaps into the next room, where the Lich King is holding Jaina Proudmoore and Sylvanas Windrunner at bay.]

You don’t get away that easy, no escape from pending loss;
I just took out the trash, so now you’d better be a boss.
Orc dictator, human traitor, “See you later,” what a “hero.”
So you run, “Now we are one,” but when I’m done, you will be zero.

LICH KING:

No questions stay unanswered; you’re the answer to my plans;
For clearly yours are verses greatest of the also-rans —
You know your place, I’ll grant you, rallied by your leader’s pennant:
Such a hero, such a legend, such a permanent lieutenant.
If ambition drove your mission, its commission might unnerve us,
But you’ve cleared the way, and now you’ll stay forever in my service:
Dead, deployed, to destroy, like your son with death to bring:
In the last, when you’ve passed, you will all serve the king.

 

WHO WON?

WHO’S NEXT?

YOU DECIDE!

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EPIC VERSE BATTLES OF AZEROTH!

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Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 4, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

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So not only have I not really done a decent mailbag in a while (the last one really opened up a pretty big can of worms, to be fair), but in light of recent events, I actually have a pretty serious influx of stuff to respond to.  Let’s get right to the mail…

 

Hey Garrosh,

In light of everything you’ve been going through, I decided to take a trip to Demon Fall Canyon to pay my respects to Grom and Lakkara both.  I’ve included a picture of myself at Grom’s monument below.  Also, while you were traveling to Nagrand this week, I took the liberty of writing a post on the blog to encourage your readers to do the same.  Hopefully they’ll follow my lead and send you some photographic proof that we’re all behind you, and thinking of you while you deal with everything that’s happened.

If you ever need anything,

–Spazzle Fizzletrinket, Orgrimmar

Thanks, Spazzle.  Much appreciated.  As it turns out, a bunch of other people did follow your lead, and my inbox ended up sort of flooded with e-mails and links from people chronicling their own visits.  Here’s a smattering from folks who didn’t include an actual letter:

 

And a bunch here that Leit over at int i; posted as part of a full blog entry on the…well…pilgrimages, I guess, that Spazzle set off:

Hail, Warchief!

Condolences on the … recent disturbing events. It’s hard enough to lose a parent once, let alone twice. Know that the Horde grieves with you.

In other news, guess who I ran into the other day? None other than Faranell, the “new guy” in your guild. One of your Kor’kron guards has developed a rather innovative method for controlling the pace of Faranell’s research. He occasionally punts an abomination’s head into the sewers.

That’s Faranell in the middle, and Overseer Kraggosh on the right. He seems to be doing a fine job.

And lastly, Bowling for Wildhammer. You should try it.

(And yes, that’s an atypical hairstyle for one of us. I learned long ago that long, flowing locks and high-torque power shafts DO NOT play well together.)

–A Concerned Citizen

Hey ACC, good to hear from you, and thanks for the show of support.  It’s been a rough couple of weeks, but I’ll manage.  Granted, I’ll sleep a lot better once ol’ You-Know-Who is finally captured and properly dismembered.

Speaking of dissected bodies, thanks as well for checking in on things in the Undercity.  Did you happen to see any signs of Koltira Deathweaver while you were down there, by the way?  Haven’t heard from him in months, and last anybody heard he was helping Sylvanas with some stuff out in the Plaguelands.  Anyway…I’m sure the boys are keeping things under control down there.  I’m still not totally sold on Bragor Bloodfist and the job he’s doing with the watching-Sylvanas-but-not-necessarily-in-the-right-way, but I’m sure Overseer Kraggosh is taking care of business.  I actually gave him the Apothecarium assignment deliberately, in the hopes that maybe working down there could help grease the wheels on moving him up on the list of potential “donor” organ recipients.  Not to jinx things, but the guy has a really bad family history, heart disease and such, to the point that most of the family pretty much treats it as a foregone conclusion.  Want to know how bad it is?  The name “Kraggosh”?  Means “Heart of Cholesterol” in orcish.  Yeah.

Also, Bowling for Wildhammer?  You’ve got to fill me in on this one.  Strangely enough, for all the meetings I’ve had with Zaela, somehow she never mentioned this little diversion in Twilight Highlands.  Seriously, they’ve got some kind of blood sport out there called Bowling for Wildhammer, and she’s wasting my time trying to fucking push some damn SUSHI place on me over and over?  The fuck?

 

Greetings Warchief!

Spazzle suggested we attempt to cheer you up by sending you letters and pictures of us honoring your dearly departed father and mother.  I kept trying to take decent shots, but my stupid pet kept ruining my pictures.  The attached one is the best one I have with out any sort of shenanigans.

While I am writing I would like to ask you a question.  Have you ever considered settling down and starting a family?  I am from the Armripper clan who has made a good showing in all the conflicts.  I am young but not too young.  I was a part of the events in Northrend and was there to help kill the Litch King.  I was also helpful in bringing down Deathwing and the Twilight Cult.

The only deal breaker for me is that I must be able to keep my full stable of pets near me (ie in the house at all times).  I love my pets so much and would never be able to settle down with a man that did not respect that.  I have 25 of them, mostly large felines of various colorings.  Each one is precious to me.

Awaiting your reply,

–Toka Armripper

Oh great.  We’ve got another one.

I actually think I remember you from Northrend, Toka, from when I joined the troops in Icecrown Citadel to deliver Hellscream’s Warsong.  My memory’s a little fuzzy on one point, though — you weren’t on of those fuckers who had a problem with the Warsong and wanted me to stop singing, were you?  Because I’ll tell you in no uncertain terms, I have an enchanting singing voice, I don’t care what any of you people say.

I’m also totally fine with the pet thing.  I mean, 25 cats is maybe a bit much, especially since you say you’re young, seeing as the Crazy Cat Lady thing usually doesn’t start kicking in until middle age at the earliest.  (Also, that thing you said about being “young, but not too young”?  Is this your way of telling me that you’re, you know, legal?  Because assuming we’re talking over 18 here, “too young”?  Ain’t no such thing.  If there’s grass on the field, play ball.)  But I get the appeal of pets — obviously I’m pretty attached to Mortimer, and he would definitely be a dealbreaker for me too, and I also have my worg Malak, who doesn’t get as much press as Mortimer does but also isn’t negotiable.  So I get it.

That said, gotta be honest, I haven’t really given a whole lot of thought to settling down any time soon.  For one thing, I have way too many things to focus on that are a lot bigger than just me.  I have a war to win and humans to exterminate and the glorious future of an Azeroth-dominating Horde to secure, and my time and energy is going to be a lot better spent on that stuff than running around filling out a gift registry (which by the way, am I the only one who thinks that’s a fucking tacky idea in the first place? “Hey, here’s a list of the stuff we want you to buy us, because getting married all of sudden means we get to act like we’re 10 years old and everyone we know is Greatfather fucking Winter”) and getting measured for a tux.  Which, also by the way, I don’t do bow ties.  Chafe my neck something awful.

But even beyond that, have you SEEN Thrall since he got married?  Look, I didn’t always agree with him, but even I wouldn’t hesitate to admit the guy was a badass.  Now?  Have you seen how he lets Aggra lead him around by the nose?  I mean hell, even when he was busy fighting Deathwing, there he was, him and the Aspects and a collection of some of the Horde’s greatest champions, and they narrowly pull off this nail-biter victory that saves the world, and right in their moment of glory and triumph who just SHOWS THE FUCK UP like she OWNS the place?  Yeah.  Aggra.  No thanks.

Besides, why would I want to settle down?  Let’s be honest here — there’s a reason why I’ve ended up having to replace my bed upstairs in Grommash Hold 37 times since I took over as Warchief, and believe you me, it ain’t faulty craftsmanship.

The Last Stands of Sylvanas

Posted in EPIC VERSE with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on April 13, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

So, a little late, I know, but here it is, this week’s second (belated Thursday) installment of EPIC VERSE in Garrosh’s Poetry Challenge!  Featuring the return of everyone’s favorite Argent Gossip Girl, Argent Confessor Paletress.  As always, comment away with suggestions and idea for next week’s MASTERPIECES.

 

Hi again,
Garrosh, friend.
Hope you’re doing fine.
What brings you
Here anew?
I see that you brought wine.
 
Hold on, now.
I know how
You made me talk last time.
I’m still mad
At how bad
I spilled my guts (in rhyme!).
 
I refuse!
’Twas with booze
You got me to tell.
Whatcha got?
Jello shots?
Oh, well, what the hell.
 

*  *  *  *  *

 
The Dark Lady passed through here,
In the Lich King’s final year.
   Sought advice
   Once or twice
From – guess who – truly yours.
From our talks we grew aware
Of just how much, in fact, we share,
   Like our urge
   To purge the Scourge.
(And sometimes dress like whores.)
 
Still her memories recur
Of life as Ranger Windrunner,
   When the doom
   Of Silvermoon
Left all appearing lost.
Last defender, there she stood;
Fight with her last breath she would.
   Pain was fine:
   Buy them time
She would at any cost.
 
There she took her final breath;
They raised a banshee in undeath –
   Could not kill
   Her iron will:
As strong now as it had been.
Summoned up her fallen brothers,
Lordaeron’s lost souls, and others,
   Bore their pain,
   Broke their chains,
And hacked the Lich King’s admin.
 
Years have passed and foes have died,
Fruitlessly Sylvanas tried
   To soothe chagrin
   For zombie kin
From all the blows they’d taken.
Cursed and scorned and plagued with doubt –
Damn the world that shut them out!
   In her care
   Her children there
Would never be forsaken.
 
When at last the Lich King fell,
Banished to the blackest hell,
   Off alone
   To Frozne Throne
Sylvanas made her trek.
Arthas’ final demise
She would confirm with her own eyes;
   And so higher
   To the spire
She ventured up to check.
 
It was true; her foe was gone;
His broken corpse she spat upon,
   But the hole
   In her soul:
It felt an endless void.
For so long her single thought
Was bringing Menethil to naught;
   Now the task
   Was done at last
And she was unemployed.
 
All her past she dwelled upon,
Shining elvish future gone,
   Time she slept:
   Off she lept
And fell toward deadly spikes.
But before she fell to night,
Self-impaled on saronite,
   Near would sing
   Val’kyr wings
And stave off the last strike.
 
Val’kyr visions was she granted,
Of a future disenchanted:
   Her adored
   By the Horde
Were marshaled out as fodder.
Unprotected, now she’d seen,
Left without their Banshee Queen,
   With a haste
   Went to waste
Before worgen marauders.
 
Her Forsaken children, cherished:
She could not leave them to perish.
   Made a deal,
   And, surreal,
Returned to her unlife.
Bound now to the scheming Val’kyr,
Brought them to her home locale here,
   To begin
   To watch her kin
And guard them from the strife.
 
I remember when we spoke,
The elf who bent but never broke,
   How she knew
   What she’d do
Would carry heavy cost.
For her people to stay whole,
Someone had to pay their soul:
   No defers;
   ’Twould be hers –
It was already lost.
 
All her elvish life she’d said
She’d fight to wipe out the undead;
   Tables turned:
   Living spurned:
Now she would forswear it.
No more kindred’s anguished cries;
Not one more, on her watch, dies.
   Tortured, pained,
   Conscience stained:
For them, she will bear it.
 
*  *  *  *  *
 
Hey, hold on!
Liquor’s gone?
Then the story’s done!
Go restock;
That would rock.
And then we’ll have more fun.
 
One last dose,
One last toast
To Sylvanas’ sorrow.
Not undead,
But man, my head:
I’ll pay for this tomorrow.
 
No, you wag,
No Jaina gag.
No more lurid defection.
(Although, she’d seen
The Banshee Queen
In the Halls of Reflection…)

 

EPIC VERSE!

Monday mailbag

Posted in Mailbag with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 3, 2011 by Garrosh Hellscream

Well, I asked for questions, and you all obliged!  Let’s have a look at some of this week’s mailbag – actual letters from actual readers!

 

Zug-zug, Warchief!

Me a peon who read your blog.  Me like reading words of my great warchief!  And now you ask to hear from peons like myself?  This what makes warchiefs Garrosh and Thrall great leaders!  Me thank you.

You ask for questions from peons.  Me have a question me want to ask, but was too scared.  Me ask it now though.  What happened to your head?  When you went to Northrend it look like any other orc head, now it look like your head too small or your jaw too big.  Me think you wounded in glorious battle, but never heard story of how.

Also me would like nap break in afternoon but overseer beat me and make work more.  Me can has nap break?

–A Tired Peon

First of all, someone remind me to up the Razor Hill education budget next year, before we get another generation of peons grimlocking their way through writing a letter.

Second of all, ATP, the head thing.  Yeah, I know.  Don’t think I don’t notice the way people stare at me when they drop by Grommash Hold – and for realsies, you’re not fooling anyone, people.  Acting like you’re staring in another direction and then glancing over when you think I’m not going to see?  Totally not working.  So I guess I might as well answer this once and for all.

So I’d like to say this was from some epic battle in Northrend, like me squaring off with Arthas, or even Anub’arak, and maybe having him unleash one of those swarms of locusts on me and they buzzed all over me and crushed my head down or some shit like that.  But the truth of the matter is, it wasn’t anything that exciting.

Those of you who were up there in Northrend with me will remember my last operation was at Light’s Hammer just inside the gates of Icecrown Citadel.  You might also remember that I spent most of that time hanging out there with Tirion Fordring.  Who I’d already had my fill of, by the way, when I went to meet him with Thrall at his stupid-ass tournament place.  (Like seriously, isn’t ONE pansy-ass traveling fair enough for the world?)  So hopefully you people were all too busy forging your way into the citadel and fighting our enemies like the Horde soldiers that you are…but meanwhile I was stuck back there with Tirion…who pretty much had nothing to do for a good long time but talk.  And talk.

On.

And on.

And on.

Like really, do you have ANY idea how blabby he is?  The preachiness was bad enough, having to sit there and listen to his EIGHT MILLION AND SEVEN spontaneous sermons to no one in particular about the power of the Light and the need to work together against a common foe, and blah blah blah.  But then he started going on for hours on end about his crazy uncle Lucius who used to live down the block from Andorhal, and thought he was King Llane, and caught Deadeye burning down a dwarf settlement in Loch Modan and forced him to retreat by beating him at Parcheesi, until he finally went off the deep end and painted himself blue and spent all his time running around Tirisfal Glades naked chasing bats with a wooden spatula, until the Kirin Tor snapped him up and locked up away in some padded room in Dalaran just to keep him out of trouble for his own good, and now Tirion feels like my day just won’t be complete until he tells me what kind of marmalade he liked to put on his toast in the morning, and I just couldn’t fucking TAKE it anymore.

So I just clamped my hands down over my ears as tight as I could and hummed real loud, and I guess I didn’t know my own strength and got carried away, because the next thing you know I’ve managed to squeeze my own fucking head down a couple helmet sizes.  So good job there, me.  Fucking Tirion.

Of course I suppose two years of Noggenfogger shampoo didn’t help matters, but that’s a whole other thing.

Speaking of not knowing my own strength…

 

Lok’tar, Warchief Hellscream.

I’m a warrior in the service of the Horde. I do pretty well on the battlefield, but I feel as though I can do much better. Could you tell me how you became so incredibly strong? Do you have a workout regiment, or did you acquire your amazing might through constantly crushing the enemies of the Horde under your boot?

–Revga, Orgrimmar

All of the above, Revga, all of the above.  There’s really no substitute for beating the living shit out of real, live foes.  For one thing, you never know what they’re going to try next, so it keeps you on your toes.  Plus, you can really push yourself if you can find some real grade-A enemies to take on.  Here’s where I think I might have an unfair advantage over a lot of guys, since I grew up in Nagrand.  While some of the Horde here in Azeroth get started killing boars and wolves and bats, I got to get my exercise fighting hand to hand with giant fucking gronn and whole villages of ogres.

Besides that, I do have a workout routine that works pretty well for me.  First thing in the morning I run a hundred laps around Grommash Hold.  While I’m going around I get some extra arm exercise in by slapping the fuck out of all the pansy-ass vendors just standing around doing nothing.  Especially Ray’ma, because trolls sound extra funny when you slap them around.  Then I drop by the meat vendor (once she’s regained consciousness) and pick up eight pounds of roast boar for my breakfast.  Gotta maintain your strength, and the protein’s good for muscle, you know.

After that I jog up by the rear gate of Orgrimmar where we keep all the siege engines, find one that looks pretty stable, and bench press it.  Nothing too major, just a couple hundred reps.  Then I head over to the arena and spar with some of my Kor’kron personal guards for a couple hours.  The ones that live get to keep their jobs.

By that point most days it’s around lunch time, so I put Gorehowl away, hop on a wyvern (MAYBE I’LL TAKE MORTIMER THIS TIME, DEHTA BITCHES – THAT’S RIGHT, I FOUND HIM!), and fly down to Un’goro Crater…taking the scenic route up through Hyjal and Felwood then down around Silithus and through Uldum, of course (BECAUSE MORTIMER NEEDS HIS FUCKING EXERCISE TOO).  When I get there I find a couple devilsaurs, beat them to death with my bare hands, drag them over to Fire Plume Ridge, and hold them over the lava till they get a good sear.  Then it’s lunch time.  When I’m done I head over to the eastern cliff face to get some rock climbing in, and scale my way up into Tanaris.  From that point I jog over to the shore and usually drop by the Caverns of Time, or as I like to call them, the Caverns of Did I Beat My Best Time.  Right now I’m sitting on 34 seconds.  BEAT IT IF YOU CAN.  If you don’t believe me, just take it up with Anachronos, he’s usually the one holding the stopwatch, even if it’s kind of a funky-looking melty one.  Anyway, from there I jog on over to the shore and get in my afternoon swim.  Which in my case means I swim from Tanaris right on back up to Durotar.

So I know what you’re thinking at this point: Wait, Garrosh, you just said you had lunch a little while before this, plus it was devilsaur, and we all know how heavy that can be – isn’t it bad for you to go swimming a short time after you’ve eaten?  And the answer is yes, yes it is….IF YOU’RE A GODDAMN FUCKING PANSY.

Once I make it back to Orgrimmar, it’s usually time for afternoon tea.

At that point I usually have some Warchief crap I have to take care of, so that’s about it for the workout.  As you can tell, being this awesome is a full-time job.  You don’t just get a body like mine for nothing.  And speaking of taking an interest in my body…

 

Heyyyy mighty Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, you don’t know me I’m your biggest fan EVAH!!!

And I’m an orc, and a gal, so please answer me… what color panties do you prefer in a woman? *hint hint nudge nudge*

Your faithful fan & minion

–Uukra the Hallowed

You know, you’d be surprised how often I get questions like this.  (Like seriously, if it was ANYTHING like this for Thrall, I don’t know why the hell he would want to get married.)

So, Uukra, to answer you.  When you come right down to it, I’m basically a soldier at heart, so I’m going to put this to you in military terms.  One word: commando.  😉

I mean, I know that’s how I roll.

Yes, you read that right.  Soak up THAT mental image.  You’re welcome.

 

Dear Warchief Hellscream,

Since you mentioned Jaina Proudmoore in your post about Thrall’s wedding, and I figure you must be in the know, I just have to ask about those two.  You know what I’m talking about.  Did Thrall ever, um, you know?

–Grimgore, Orgrimmar

Jaina?  Oh, geez, dude, who HASN’T?

Other than Lor’themar.  Obvious reasons.

 

That’s it for this week, but keep those letters and questions coming!  YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS THEM!