Archive for kaal soulreaper

Spare the rod, spoil the Helcular

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 10, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

So Helcular wasn’t exactly the most help in the world.  I’m not sure if he’s just been sort of batshit ever since he was raised as undead from the Southshore graveyard a few years back, or if he was always kind of unstable, or what, but dude could not stay on topic for all his flipping out and panicking about what had happened down at the ruins.  To be fair, I suppose being at ground zero of some freakish anti-necromantic explosion that took out most of your team, and just barely escaping from having the unlife sucked clean out of you yourself, well, I guess I can see how that might freak you out.  And Helcular being a mage, and kind of a bookish one at that, I can see how he might not exactly be the battle-tested kind of guy who deals with adversity well.

But DUDE, I can’t POSSIBLY overstate how much he was spazzing out over everything.  Could not keep him on topic for more than thirty seconds at a time, so I spent practically the whole conversation having to slap him around to try to get him back on track.  Now granted, I probably didn’t help matters when Kaal arrived with an update from Southshore, and I let him give his report in front of Helcular.  Turns out, those shimmery purple lines are still expanding outward – slowly enough that you can’t notice it with the naked eye, but still moving and stretching little by little, apparently gravitating toward other centers of necromantic energy.  As in, places where there are lots of undead.  So eventually – slowly, but eventually – this thing is going to spread.

Which as you can imagine, is just what panicky jittery Captain Freak-Out Hercular needed to hear, and yeah, a few more beatings ensued to get him to stop fluttering about.  Eventually, after enough enforced focus to make my frigging hands sore, I was able to drag this much out of him: Helcular used to live in Southshore, where he knew Kel’Thuzad back in his pre-lich days, and had studied necromancy under him.  Because nothing could go wrong there, as we all know.  But he couldn’t think of anything they could have done that could have had a hand in what’s happened – the training and practice he did in the vicinity of the town was all small-potatoes stuff, and from what he could remember, Kel’Thuzad kept his distance whenever he was doing anything major.  He did remember one point some years back, though, when a bunch of people from the Knights of the Silver Hand were hanging around the town.  They were being pretty hush-hush, but were still attracting enough attention that he could remember strangers turning up in the town and lurking around snooping on them…so there’s a fair chance they were up to something.  And considering how those paladins wound up taking an interest in the Scourge, it sounds like there’s at least enough of a possible link to be worth following up on.

And again, let me just stress that pretty much every sentence of that was spread out over two of three smackings and a frustrated “Man, will you PLEASE try to pull yourself the fuck TOGETHER?”

Anyway, though, we’ve got another lead to follow, even though I’m not exactly thrilled where it’s leading.  But, I’ve already had Eitrigg send a message up to Hearthglen in the Western Plaguelands, and I’m getting ready to head north.  Not going to lie to you, I’m not looking forward to this at all, but it’s our best in with the Silver Hand, so I guess I’m going to need to go have a sit-down with Tirion Fordring.

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Ruins of Southshore

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 9, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

Okay, so remember what I was saying about the Undercity smelling bad?  Well I would happily spruce up the aroma of Grommash Hold with some Undercity potpourri before I took too many deep breaths around Southshore the way it is right now.  Holy shit, it’s like somebody went down to the Apothecarium, put together an olfactory mix tape of their greatest hits, distilled in into some kind of glowing green porridge with a side of asparagus, force-fed eighty tons of the shit to a gang of syphilitic ettins, then locked them all in a closet for three days and let them fart it all out.  Like THAT bad.  That’s what it’s like down here.  I seriously think this is what atrocity must smell like.  A piquant blend of genocide and child abuse.

I knew Sylvanas’ people had used Southshore as a test site when I gave them the go-ahead to start up their plague research again, but even I wasn’t prepared for the sheer scope of what they had going on here.  It isn’t even a town anymore so much a slimy green puddle, with these living goop thingamajigs squirming around the place.  It’s actually kind of scary to imagine they were able to crank all this out so quickly in the window I’d left them to resume work.  I can only figure some of the apothecaries were so fired up to be able to get back to it that they really threw themselves into it in a huge flurry of activity right off the bat.

Anyway, the bunch of us – myself, Drok, Cromush, Mokvar, and a handful of warlocks and alchemists who came with – spent some hours scouring over the place looking for any clues about where the anti-plague effect had come from.  It wasn’t until some of the locks (who, by the way, actually aren’t big fans of socks – apparently we’ve got a bunch of hippie sandal-wearing warlocks these days…terrific) tried some kind of incantation spell that we started getting somewhere.  They were able to make these shimmery purple ribbons visible around the town, almost like hazy purple flames.  Kaal Soulreaper, one of our locks, explained to me that the haze was made up of the traces of a potent magic effect, which you could see spreading and scattering all around the town – most likely, he said, leaving those purple traces along the paths the effect took bouncing from one undead to the next.  So what we were looking at was the hazy footprints of their deaths.  Or re-deaths.  Or whatever.

So, tracing back to where the haze was at its most dense was the most likely way to get to the starting point.  That brought us to the old town inn – specifically, underground, beneath the cellar.  From somewhere down there, all the purple ribbons came spreading out, up through the cellar and out of the ground along the outer walls of the building.  Whatever it was exactly, it looks like it detonated there.  And according to the warlocks’ best guess, the haze will continue holding the “contagion” until it dissipates.  As for how long that will take, they ballparked it somewhere between hours and centuries.  So, lots of help there.  Really, guys, I appreciate the info so far, but couldn’t you give me a LITTLE better idea of when it’s going to be safe for the Forsaken to come back down here?  Is it tomorrow or the end of time, or what?

The next question that comes to mind is, you know, how the fuck this magic doohickey got there.  And since we have a fairly powerful magic-user on staff who actually has a pretty long history with Southshore, I’m thinking it’s time I had some face time with our man Helcular.  He had been supervising things in Southshore before everything went kablooey, at which point he was evacuated to Tarren Mill with as many other Forsaken as they could pull out in time.  I’m having Cromush and Drok continue the work down here in Southshore while I fly up to see him.  More soon.