Out of the frying pan, into the Firelands

* Mokvar pulled a sneaky bait-and-switch with Ji to keep Mylune from…detaining him at the Sanctuary of Malorne.

** Neeru Fireblade pointed Mokvar in the direction of the Council of the Black Harvest, and Ritssyn specifically, here.  As the green fire veterans among you may recall, Ritssyn and Zinnin were dispatched to the Firelands by Kanrethad Ebonlocke.

* As Mokvar has detailed, the Nether Prism is a warlock relic which he had acquired years ago in Blackrock Spire; when its powers proved stronger than he could handle, he passed the prism off to the imp Vi’el, a collector or rare magic items, in Darkwhisper Gorge.  When Mokvar and Deliana returned to Winterspring to try to recover the Prism, however, they found Vi’el had been killed and the Prism was nowhere to be found.

Tweeting dryad, bleating crone

So, a quick aside.

Not to derail this whole thing that’s going on with Mokvar and Blackrock Spire, but after last time, with that little cameo we have from Little Miss Crazy-Nymph up in Hyjal, hoo boy, did the shit ever hit the fan on Twitter.  It started innocently enough with a comment from reader and frequent commenter Shen Wei Pureblossom, and… um… things went downhill fast.  Including appearances from a bunch of familiar faces.

And…well…here:

Heh.  Hehehe HA!

I tell you, Magatha getting fucked with never, ever gets old.

Resuming our regularly scheduled…stuff…soon.

 

 

[A huge thank you to @ShadoPanShammy, @Mylune_, @Ji_Firepaw, @Wyvern_Mortimer (yes, really), and @M_Grimtotem — all of whom you should follow, by the way — both for providing the enormous entertainment that was this exchange, and for allowing me to reproduce it here.  More Twitter lunacy to follow in short order, I’m sure.]

 

In which Ji has kind of a rough week

* Spazzle spilled the beans (well, most of them) about Mokvar here, after Krog reported on Spazzle’s clandestine meeting with Mokvar in Winterspring.

** While being held in Orgrimmar, Mokvar and Deliana carried out an escape plan when Ji let himself be knocked out to distract the Kor’kron guards.  Spazzle reported on all this (to you folks at home, not to Garrosh…yet) here and here.

* Garona revealed to Mokvar that she was shadowing him early on, when she intervened to protect him during an attack by spectral assassins.

* That would be the aforementioned clandestine meeting with Spazzle.

** Oh, Mylune.  Garrosh crossed paths with everyone’s favorite bunny-hugger at the Sanctuary of Malorne in a rather memorable encounter here.  And, what the hey, might as well link back to the other times he’s run into her, in Mulgore and at an ill-fated anger management seminar (for the uninitiated among you: yes, really).

30 Days of Character Development #7: Mokvar

[Periodically, a post will profile one of the blog’s many supporting players.  (See the first profile for more details.)  Feel free to chime in with recommendations for other characters you’d like to see more about.]

 

Name:  Mokvar

Occupation:  Scribe; former advisor to the Warchief; former mercenary; currently between gigs, as it were.

Race:  Orc

Class:  Warlock (currently and formerly), shaman (formerly)

Age:  44

Group affiliations:  Horde (former citizen, currently banished), Earthen Ring (former member), Veiled Blade (former member)

Known relatives:  Drulla (mother, deceased), Vokmar (father, deceased), ex-wife (heretofore unnamed)

Earth Online notes:  Founding member and officer of Garrosh’s guild <Warchief>; presumably demoted from officer status since falling out of good graces with Garrosh, though it’s currently unclear if he’s actually been demoted or gkicked.  Main toon is Bartleby (class unknown); has at least one alt, LamontCranston (not a member of <Warchief> and unknown by most of the guild, possibly all but Spazzle).

First appearance:  “Visiting Ashenvale” (first mention), “Underneath the bunker” (first transcript)

Key posts and plot points:

• Garrosh first mentioned Mokvar in the very early days of the blog, during an inspection trip to Ashenvale.  After completing an aerial bombing run over Astralaan, the Warchief was most irate that Mokvar wasn’t able to adequately sketch him walking away from the resulting explosions; Garrosh ordered Mokvar back to Orgrimmar to train up inscription under pain of, well, pain.  (Interestingly, the job of keeping visual records of some of Garrosh’s expolits would eventually fall to Gurtash in the form of his comics.)
• Mokvar would return a few weeks later in “Underneath the bunker” to record the first of many transcripts of the Warchief’s dealings.  (Also of note is that this transcript marked the first appearance of Dontrag and Utvoch.)  From that point on, Mokvar would frequently accompany the Warchief in his adventures, recording Garrosh’s discussions with such luminaries as Tirion Fordring (“Where did all the words go?”), Mylune (not once but twice), Garona and Johnny Awesome (“Awesome job, Mokvar”).
• Mokvar traveled back in time to old Hillsbrad with Garrosh, Liadrin, Faranell, and Utvoch in an attempt to trace the origin of a magic “anti-plague” that was devastating the Forsaken (The Anti-Plague of Southshore).  While there, Faranell switched places with a past version of himself and inadvertently set off a series of events that would eventually cause massive disruptions to the timeline (Timequake).  In the ensuing chaos, Mokvar was one of the only people to be aware of the changes that had occurred, and helped the Warchief reset history to its proper course.  To this day, Mokvar remains one of the only people – along with Garrosh, Liadrin, and Faranell – who remembers the events that transpired in the other timeline.  (Okay, yes, Utvoch remembers, too…but would you really bet your next paycheck on him understanding any of it?)
• Just before Garrosh left for Pandaria, Mokvar was attacked and killed under mysterious circumstances (“Death of the author”), though his death was made temporary by his ability to ankh as a shaman.  This brush with death marked the beginning of the Mokvar saga that continues to this day; a detailed, post-by-post account can be found here, but here’s the semi-sorta-short version: In his mercenary days before coming to Orgrimmar, when he was a member of the Veiled Blade, Mokvar had acquired, then disposed of, a powerful warlock relic called the Nether Prism; now, years later, the Prism’s prior owner (the drakonid lord Valthalak) has sent spectral assassins after Mokvar in an effort to recover his prize.  Mokvar reunited with old mercenary friend Deliana to try to recover the Prism, then launched into a run of suspicious, erratic behavior – traveling to Ironforge under diplomatic cover, then being charged with the murder of one of its citizens; turning for aid to Neeru Fireblade, then, even more damningly, Magatha Grimtotem; breaking out of Orgrimmar while under arrest, leading to his eventual banishment from the Horde.
• After Mokvar disappeared from Orgrimmar, he remained off the grid for several months, save for elemental indications to fellow shaman Spazzle that he may have met his final demise.  Ji Firepaw, however, wasn’t willing to give up hope for Mokvar’s survival (and rightly so – did anyone really think that I was not only going to kill off Mokvar, but do so off-screen? Really?), and continued investigating Mokvar’s whereabouts.  Ji’s search eventually led him to Blackrock Spire, where Mokvar made his dramatic, fel-infused return in “The scouring of the Spire.”
• True story: I originally introduced Mokvar not even as a real character, but as a plot device to justify inclusion of the transcripts.  I realized early on that I wanted to include dialogue in the blog, but I didn’t feel like it would fit stylistically to have Garrosh writing it out as it would appear in a novel – one thing I try to maintain (with ranging degrees of success) is the appearance that Garrosh really is writing everything in the blog, as a blog, rather than a short-story-but-we’ll-call-it-a-blog-even-though-we-know-it’s-really-not-wink-wink.  Mokvar as a scribe provided an excuse to include that extra material.  Another true story: When I was first choosing Garrosh’s scribe, I pretty much went into Grommash Hold and semi-randomly picked someone who looked like he didn’t have much else to do. Who knew?
• For the fashion/transmog-minded among you: Mokvar’s warlock attire is roughly based on the Tier 9 warlock set.
• Mokvar’s Earth Online character, Bartleby, is a reference to the title character in Herman Melville’s short story “Bartleby the Scrivener.”  (Scrivener = scribe!)  Mokvar likewise references the story on a few occasions when repeats Bartleby’s signature line, “I would prefer not to.”
• For anyone who hasn’t pieced it together by this point: Mokvar’s close connection to Deliana is based on their parallel in-game roles.  Pre-Cataclysm, Mokvar (in Orgrimmar) and Deliana (in Ironforge) were the questgivers who sent adventurers on the (very long and painful) quest chains to upgrade the old “Tier 0.5” dungeon sets.  The two characters offered essentially the same quests, which provided the basis for much of the in-blog backstory about Lord Valthalak.  (Valthalak’s spirit was the end boss for that quest chain, by the way, and for anyone who missed it during vanilla, fighting him at level was a NIGHTMARE.)

In his own words:

In there one event or happening you would like to erase from your past? Why?

My last job with the Veiled Blade, when we went into Blackrock Spire to collect Valthalak’s goodies.  It turned out to be nothing but trouble, and cost most of us our lives – all of us, in fact, other than me and Deliana.  (And strictly speaking, it cost me my life, too; it just didn’t stick. So, congratulations to Deliana for being the last one left standing. Was anyone running a pool?)

What’s your favorite ice cream flavor? Color? Song? Flower?

Tigule and Foror’s Lok’tar S’more-gar.  Cerulean blue.  The Lokvad’nod Broxigari.  Any daisies I’m not pushing up.

Who do you trust?

After everything we’ve been through, I trust Deliana with my life.  The same goes for Ji and Spazzle.  I trust Thrall and Eitrigg implicitly, and I’ll probably always be grateful to Thrall for giving me a safe haven all those years ago.  I trust Liadrin for her judgment, Saurfang for general badassery, and Garrosh…well, I trust Garrosh to be Garrosh.

How are you with technology? Super savvy, or way behind the times? Letters or email?

I’m no Spazzle, but I’m good enough with technology to get by.  I’m not really what you would call tech literate in the broad sense, but I do okay with specific tasks on specific devices; once I learn how to do something, I’m usually fine, but then I don’t like to stray too far from what I know, even if something new and better comes along.  I still prefer to write by hand, but I usually end up having to type things out – people are always complaining about my handwriting.

How do you react to temperature changes such as extreme heat and cold?

Heat doesn’t bother me at all.  I hardly even notice it.  Cold, on the other hand… spirits, I hate the cold.  You could not have paid me enough money to go to Northrend.

Are you an early morning bird or a night owl?

Neither, really.  I have pretty strange sleep habits: I usually tend to sleep for 2-3 hours at a time, scattered around random times in the day.  It’s a holdover from my mercenary days, when we would often have to be on the move on short notice; I developed the ability to sneak in what sleep I could when I could, and it’s stayed with me.  So now you’re equally likely to catch me awake at some odd hour in the middle of the night, or asleep in the middle of the day.  It’s the main reason why I don’t like surprise visitors.  That and the recent habit that surprise visitors have been getting into of trying to kill me.

What’s your preferred means of travel?

On wolfback.  I like feeling my feet on the ground…or at least my wolf’s feet, indirectly.  If I have to fly, I’d rather take a zeppelin or gunship.  I’ve never gotten completely comfortable on a wyvern (although I still prefer them to bats or dragonhawks or…well, I don’t know how people manage to keep their balance on those carpets).  I’ll fly on one if I need to, and I have lots of times – it just makes me uneasy while I’m up there.

If you could time travel, where would you go?

Don’t even joke about that.

Are you superstitious?

I definitely believe that there’s something out there that’s either looking out for me, or has it in for me.  I’m still not sure which.  Check back with me again another time.  Unless I’m dead, in which case we probably have our answer.

What might your ideal romantic partner be?

Someone calm, grounded.  Stable.  Not prone to emotional swings or extreme highs and lows.  Someone who’s figured themselves out, gotten comfortable with themselves, grown out of the drama and the need for everything to be a thrill ride.

If your life were a genre, what would it be?

Pretty definitely something in the action/adventure area, or at least a suspense thriller.  Be careful what you wish for, I suppose.  Sometimes I think I should have listened to my mother and been a banker instead.  When I was younger, I couldn’t wait to go out into the world and have adventures.  Thirty years of adventures later, I think I’ve had more than enough excitement.  I’d love to be bored.  I’d love to settle down comfortably in a quiet corner of Orgrimmar once we get to the other side of all this, and age into some old man who everyone considers pretty dull and uninteresting, except for every so often when he rattles off another one of his crazy stories — which most of the kids probably won’t believe really happened anyway.  I think I’ll enjoy that.

 

Previous Profiles:

1. Spazzle Fizzletrinket
2. Ben-Lin Cloudstrider
3. Dontrag and Utvoch
4. Taktani
5. Korrina
6. Mylune

30 Days of Character Development #6: Mylune

[Each week — or some remote facsimile thereof — a post will profile one of the blog’s many supporting players.  (See the first profile for more details.)  Feel free to chime in with recommendations for other characters you’d like to see more about.]

 

Name:  Mylune

Occupation:  Caretaker of Hyjal, wildlife custodian

Race:  Forest nymph

Class:  Druid

Age:  Unknown, though her behavior would suggest fairly young by nymph standards

Group affiliations:  Guardians of Hyjal (member), Cenarion Circle (member)

Known relatives:  Cenarius (exact relationship unclear, but all forest nymphs are descended from dryads, who are daughters of Cenarius)

Earth Online notes:  Mercifully, no one has told Mylune about Earth Online.  Or possibly about the internet.  Probably for the best in both cases.

First appearance:  “Of wyverns and pine cones”

Key posts and plot points:

• Garrosh has only encountered Mylune a few times, but those few times have been memorable ones.  He first met everyone’s favorite overly energetic nymph in “Of wyverns and pine cones,” in which Mylune was a bit too excited to meet Mortimer.  This came as a shock to no one — least of all Hamuul Runetotem — other than the Warchief himself.
• Garrosh had another run-in with Mylune (much to his chagrin) a few months later, in “Attack of the petting zoo.”  This time around, Mylune unleashed her boundless affection on a pack of armed critters dwelling amid the northern plateaus of Mulgore.  This time, however, the critters were ready to put up a fight, the distress of which eventually launched Mylune into what can only be described as a psychotic episode.  For the record, Hamuul narrowly missed winning Malfurion’s office pool on when she would snap.
• It only follows, then, that when Ben-Lin Cloudstrider organized an anger management seminar in the appropriately named “Anger management,” Mylune would be one of the attendees.  Given that the session consisted of putting Mylune, Garrosh, Lor’thermar Theron, and Tirion Fordring in a room together…well…the exercise proved less than productive.  Unless, of course, you’re Faranell, in which case it was a terrific way to spend an afternoon.

In her own words:

What are your most prominent physical features?

Hi!  How are you?  I hope you’re having a super happy wonderful day, because why wouldn’t you when we have this beautiful world to share with all our adorable woodland friends!

Oh… Did you ask a question?  Okay!  Well, I guess I have extra big blue eyes — for looking out for all the cuddly animals!  And my long pointed ears…to listen for the cuddly animals!  And…oh, and my slender but surprisingly steel-trap-like arms, for hugging the cuddly animals!  They’re just so sweet and cute, so how could I resist!  And hug them to my bosom!  Nice and close to my heart, that’s big and warm and just bursting with love for the animals!  Does that count too?

Name one scar you have, and tell us where it came from.  If you don’t have any, is there a reason?

I do have this one little scar on my shoulder here, but you know?  It’s a funny thing!  I don’t really remember where it came from.  Isn’t that weird?

Describe your happiest memory.

Ohhh that would have to be the first time I went up to Nordrassil.  It was before that mean demon guy climbed up there and made everyone sad for a while, and I’ll always remember walking through the passage to the peak of Mount Hyjal, and seeing all the animals running around and playing, just bunnies and squirrels and raccoons and skunks and chipmunks and OH MY LUNE they were all so adorable, and the sun was shining and the birds were singing, and like three rainbows all appeared in the sky, and I just ran and ran all around with the animals and we played and hugged and snuggled and it was all such a big happy wonderful blur but Mal says it was okay because eventually I passed out from exhaustion and finally got quiet and also because ale.

Is there one event or happening you would like to erase from your past?  Why?

The incident.  Only Miss Cloudy-bear said I should try not to think about the incident.  So, what?

What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?  Color?  Song?  Flower?

Coffee ice cream — I really really like coffee, did you know it helps give you extra energy?  Isn’t that just super?!  And my favorite color is green, and my favorite song is…oh, you know that one?  It always seems to be playing when you walk through the forests.  You know the one?  It goes like this — laaa, la la la laaaaa, la la la laah, luh la lahhh?  It’s so pretty!  I don’t really understand where it’s coming from, though.

Who do you trust?

Hamuul, and Malfurion, even though Hamuul can be all my cranky-hooves sometimes.  And Mal always seems to be hovering around watching me like he’s looking for something, but I know it’s just because he cares.  I trust all my forest nymph sisters, too, even though a lot of them don’t really hang out with me much.

Can you define a turning point in your life?  Multiples are acceptable.

The incident.  OH MY LUNE!  Why do you keep bringing up the incident?!  I’m not supposed to think about that!  What?  What incident?  Happy thoughts!  HAPPY THOUGHTS!

Is there an animal you equate to yourself?

<Mylune’s eyes go large and dewy>

I have to pick ONE?  But they’re all so SQUEEEEEEE!

How do you react to temperature changes such as extreme heat and cold?

I don’t deal with cold as well as my cousins the frost nymphs, but I really, REALLY don’t like extreme heat!  That’s sounds like something from those burny guys from the Firelands!  You’re not with THEM, are you?!

Are you an early morning bird or a night owl?

I’m always up bright and early!  Why waste the warm snuggly sunlight?

Are you a good cook?  What’s your favorite recipe?

OH MY LUNE why do you keep trying to talk about the incident?  What’s WRONG with you?  Okay, you know what!  Fine!  FINE!  YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT?  WE’LL TALK ABOUT IT!  SO YEAH, I’M GOOD MOTHERFUCKING COOK, AS IF YOU DIDN’T ALREADY FUCKING KNOW!  AND YOU KNOW WHAT I COOK REALLY WELL, IT TURNS OUT?  RABBIT FUCKING STEW!  BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, ASSHOLE — SPOILER ALERT: THE DEATH OF THE SOUL TASTES FUCKING DELICIOUS!

Do you have any irrational fears?

Gee, I don’t know, what do you think — maybe I have a deep-seeded fear of HAVING ANOTHER FUCKING BLACKOUT AND WAKING UP AMID THE BODIES AGAIN?  YOU THINK MAYBE THAT KEEPS ME UP AT NIGHT?

What would your cutie mark be?

Oooh, well, maybe a heart or a rainbow, or, hey, HOW ABOUT A FUCKING SKULL AND CROSSBONES, BECAUSE WHY THE FUCK NOT IF YOU’RE GOING TO KEEP BRINGING IT UP, YOU FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!

If you could time travel, where would you go?

WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK I WOULD GO, ASSHOLE?  MAYBE BACK TO THE GODDAMN INCIDENT YOU WON’T STOP FUCKING TALKING ABOUT!  MAYBE I’D LIKE TO TAKE THAT ONE BACK, YA THINK?!

Are you superstitious?

I know karma’s a bitch, I can tell you THAT much!

Describe your hands.  Are they small, long, calloused, smooth, stubby?

COVERED WITH DARK RED STAINS OF LOST INNOCENCE THAT WILL NEVER, EVER COME OUT.  I WASH THEM, AND WASH THEM, AND THEY NEVER COME OUT.

How do you smell?  Do you wear perfume or cologne?

Um… <deep breath>  Smell?  Oh, like smelling salts?  Um…yes, those might be handy.  They’re usually pretty helpful.

Is…is Hamuul around anywhere?  I think I need to talk to him.  I don’t know if the herbs Miss Cloudy-bear gave me are working…

 

Previous Profiles:

1. Spazzle Fizzletrinket
2. Ben-Lin Cloudstrider
3. Dontrag and Utvoch
4. Taktani
5. Korrina

* * * * *

[A few quick OOC notes looking ahead:  I have a big stack of material on the way (hopefully) over the next week-plus, then, the weekend after next, remember that we have our next Meta Raid.  Clear your (raid) calendars for Saturday, May 10, at 8:00 PM EDT!

That Saturday (May 10) will also mark the beginning of a short break I’ll be taking from posting — I’m going to take the following week off to tend to RL commitments and do some advance prepping for the next stretch of posts.  To send you off with a bang, though, and to add an extra perk to the Meta Raid, I’m going to have one last post going up that night, right as we’re gathering for our night of SoO hijinks.  (Place your bets now on whether I’m going to cook up something to leave you hanging for a bit…)]

Contest! Transmogs for Shay

Hi, everyone.  Averry here with a reminder and an announcement.

First, the obligatory reminder – tonight at 8:00 PM EST, we’ll be having our second Friends-of-WCB Meta raid of Siege of Orgrimmar.  All are welcome to join in (well, unless we fill up…).  You can always find me on RealID as Averry#1116.

Now for the real announcement!

I’ve been happy to see that people seem to be embracing the character of Shayari since her debut a few days ago.  We’ll be seeing plenty more of her (not in the Gurtash sense), and I’d like her to be a departure from the one conspicuous Warcraft norm: People who, apparently, wear the same outfit every single day.  Clearly, Shay is a little more fashionable and stylish than that.

So, to that end, I’m announcing a TRANSMOGS FOR SHAYARI contest!  The basic gist: All you transmog fanatics (I know you’re out there!) are invited to put together an outfit for Shay to wear in at least one – likely multiple – upcoming comics.

A few notes and caveats as you consider the possibilities:

• Shayari is a mage in training, so your transmog should consist solely of items that a clothie can wear.
• When in doubt, let “Averry/Gurtash actually has to draw this” be your guide – i.e., try to avoid looks that are excessively elaborate or overwrought.
• Try to have mercy on poor Gurtash.  (Translation: Let’s try to keep the poor girl fully dressed!)
• Alternative for would-be fashion designers: You also have the option of designing your outfit from the ground up!  You’re welcome to come up with your own original gear design and draw it up yourself, then submit your sketches.  (Please try not to show up my own middling artistic skills too badly.)

Please e-mail your entries to me (garrosh1337@gmail.com) by SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 27.  If at all possible, try to model your transmogs on a female draenei character, or save them as WoWhead outfits and share the link.  (Being able to refer to the outfit on a draenei model will just make it easier for me to translate it into comic form.)

I’ll choose my three favorites, and incorporate them into future comics as opportunity allows over the weeks that follow.  In addition to their own personal satisfaction, and boundless blogosphere fame (cough), winners will be able to pick one of the following prizes:

• A comic-style portrait of your character from Gurtash!
• An original EPIC VERSE from the Warchief on the topic of your choosing!
• An in-blog (comic or transcript) cameo for your character – you too can rub elbows with the likes of Faranell, Liadrin, Dontrag and Utvoch, and the DPS!  (And hey, who knows?  That’s how Taktani got started…)
• A ride on Mortimer!  (Not really.)
• A hug from Mylune!*  (Only possibly.)
• A highly coveted “Get Out of Conversation with Tirion Free” card.**
• Something else that we mutually come up with, on the off chance one of us has a brainstorm!

Well, what are you still doing here?  Get transmogging!  Shayari has a wardrobe to fill!

* The Warchief’s Command Board makes no guarantee that Mylune will not have another episode in mid-embrace.  Hug at your own risk.

** May be exchanged for a “Get Out of Conversation with Dontrag and/or Utvoch” card.  (Likelihood of Garrosh personally entering the contest has now increased 400%.)

[A quick update — I need to correct an error in this announcement: I listed the deadline for the contest as Saturday, February 27.  This is problematic, in that February 27 is not a Saturday.  Don’t ask me what happened there.  I was probably having another one of my many episodes.  At any rate, I figure I may as well err on the side of giving people more time rather than less, so let’s revise the due date to the next Saturday after the 27^th, which would be March 1.

I think.  Hang on.

<checks calendar all paranoid-like>

Yes, there we go.  So, officially: the deadline for the Transmogs for Shay contest is SATURDAY, MARCH 1!  Get back to mogging!]

Monday mailbag

Okay, people, it’s been WAY too long since I’ve dipped into the ol’ mailbag, and I have a HUGE backlog of letters, so let’s get right to it, shall we?

 

Hail Warchief!

The Feast of Winter Veil is approaching, and it made me think. What do you hope to get from Greatfather Winter this year? Do you have any special family traditions? I look forward to seeing Orgrimmar all decorated for the festivities.
Happy Holidays!

–Lorewalker Shara

PS you may want to avoid using tinsel to decorate around Mortimer, unless you like festive poop! Might be a good idea to keep Taktani away from it too, thinking about it.

Hey, Shara, thanks for writing.  Hopefully Orgrimmar is looking all Winter Veily these days.  I’ll be back for a check-in soon, but I’m probably only going to make it back to town JUST in time to catch the end of the festivities.  As for my wish list… I remember addressing this point a couple years ago, and most of the stuff on that list still stands – especially Varian and Magatha’s heads on pikes – but there are a few more things I can think of that I might add to the list for this year.

• An actual explanation that makes sense for what the hell was going on with Mokvar while I was away.
• A wireless network here in Pandaria that’s actually reliable, so I can log onto Earth Online without it being a fucking comedy show.
• An on-site goblin tech guy who can maintain that network without the whole thing going kablooey and spitting out two burnt pieces of toast every time there’s a breeze, because let me tell you, Grizzle Gearslip ain’t happening.

Come to think of it, so far all of these could pretty much be covered if I could get a bunch more Spazzles.  Because really, as much as I clown on the guy, he actually knows what he’s doing and gets shit done, and unlike half these other jokers, I don’t have to worry about him running around behind my back doing spirits-know-what.  So, other additions to the list:

• A scribe that doesn’t have traitorous tendencies, a busted-up writing hand, or the disposition of a six-year-old on a sugar high from eating all the Hallow’s End candy EVER.
• The secret to controlling the sha.
• A First War commemorative chess set.  This is the normal-sized, less creepy version of the chess set Medivh had over in Karazhan.  It’s been rumored to be in the works for years, and I’ve finally started to see them showing up on ebAH.  Yes, I play chess.  Don’t act all surprised, for fuck’s sake.
• Varian’s head on a pike.  Did I mention this one?

As far as having family traditions for Winter Veil…not really.  I mean, keep in mind, Winter Veil is a pretty recent thing for us Mag’har.  We didn’t have Winter Veil back in Nagrand, so we only started picking it up at all after Thrall came out to Garadar a few years ago.  Greatmother Geyah really has taken a liking to it, but that’s about it.  Plus, not to get maudlin and shit, but it’s kind of hard to have family traditions when you don’t really have a family.  I mean, I never knew my dad, and my mom died when I was young.  I’m an only child.  As far as I know.  Assuming Grom wasn’t a bigger pimp than anybody’s given him credit for.  Anyhow, point being, Greatmother is pretty much the only family I’ve got nowadays, and even SHE’s not a blood relation – she’s just the one that raised me after Lakkara died.  So, yeah.  AREN’T YOU HAPPY YOU BROUGHT THAT UP?  BET YOU FEEL PROUD.

 

Greetings Warchief!

I am in desperate need of your assistance. I approached Regent Lord Lor’themar with my issue but he said that it was beyond his scope and directed me to contact you.

I recently inherited a house and it is in terrible need of redecoration. You have done a great deal of renovation recently and I was wondering if you could give me some tips to make my house look amazing. Attached is a picture of the house.

Thanks,

–Tegwin

Grats on the new house, Tegwin.  Not so grats on the place looking like such a shithole.  Because, yeah, that place needs some work.  I mean, seriously…the wispy, billowy day-glow curtains?  A bearskin rug with the bear head still attached?  Strewn out there like you’re getting ready to do a photo shoot you already know you’re going to regret in five years?  And… Is…is that a hookah?  Just sitting there, right out in the open, in the living room?  What are you, one semester removed from college and stuck with a slacker troll roommate who keeps swearing he’ll have his half of the rent this month, and this time he means it, mon, only you know perfectly well that’s not happening because felweed’s a hell of a drug?

So, okay, a few things.  You have to lose the pastels, first of all.  I know that probably goes against every last one of your blood elf sensibilities, but trust me on this.  You want strong, commanding colors – the kind that will make people think “Holy fuck, some serious shit goes on in this place” when they walk in.  Lots of reds and grays.  Err on the side of darker.  Go too dark with the red and you get a bloody crimson, which is still pretty badass.  Go too light and you get pink.  See where I’m going with this?

Mount some weapons on the walls.  If you haven’t cleaned them lately and they’ve got some bloodstains, all the better.  It adds to the color scheme I’m talking about, plus it conveys a message of “This person is not to be fucked with.”  Spikes.  You can never have too many spikes.  Or skulls.  Get some skulls in there.  If you can carve up the body of one of your enemies and, say, make their skull into a chair for yourself, awesome.  Or maybe turn their bones into an end table.  A hat rack will do in a pinch.  If you haven’t killed any notable enemies lately, but you’ve got an infamous foe that you really only know by reputation but somebody in your family killed, and you have THEIR remains somewhere handy, that’s just as good, because that fucker was brought down by your bloodline (AGAIN NOTICE THE BLOOD MOTIF) and you totally deserve to share credit for the accomplishment.

This is all for your living room, of course, and I know my tastes can be a little hardcore.  I figured you might want to take it down a notch or two for your bedroom, so I went to Garona to get a woman’s opinion.  Didn’t get very far, though.  I told her I had a question about the bedroom and tried to ask her if she matches her rugs and curtains, or words to that effect, but she just got all pissy for some reason.  So, not much help there.  I seriously don’t know what’s up with her sometimes.

Speaking of which…

 

Dear Warchief,

I’m writing this letter to you in secret and I hope it gets to you and I’m not killed in the process.  *looks around*

It’s about Garona Halforcen.  Sir, she scares the everliving shi—uh—crap out of me.  *looks around again*

I happened upon some history stuff about her and now I’m all confused.  She was there when the first invasion from the Dark Portal, then she had a kid with an old man, and she is half-orc, half-dradne dranin demon *looks up spelling* DRAENAI.  (She looks like an orc.  Smells like one too.  I don’t see it.)

Now I’m all confused and sitting in a dark tunnel with a lot of thinking time had me thinking about her again.

What I want to know…*looks around*

How old is she?  She’s got to be like….ANCIENT.  *hides paper, looks around*

She doesn’t make sense and I don’t want to ask her.  She’s scary.

–Ruekie, Shaman In Training

PS:  There’s a lot of talk lately with the orc kids about the Red Pox, and if there is something scarier than Garona it’s that. I heard you had it once. Did it hurt? Can you get it again? Can we get it? Can an outbreak happen again? Too many questions and we are getting freaked out. Like FREAKED out. Really.

Okay, first of all… Um, Ruekie, you realize we were JUST in those caves all alone and out of earshot of Garona, right?  Not sure why you didn’t just ask your questions THEN, but whatever.  Kids.

First, the Red Pox?  No, seriously, you don’t want to get into the Red Pox, that was just a bad scene all around.  I don’t know why you kids would be talking about it now, but really, just let that shit die.  Nobody needs to be digging up THOSE memories for anybody.

Okay, now that that’s settled, on to your main point.  Yeah, I’ll grant you the scary thing with Garona.  Scariest bitch I know who hasn’t come back from the dead.  Although it’s probably a sad statement about my life that the list of people I know who HAVE come back from dead is a lot longer than you would figure.  Because – I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before – NOBODY STAYS FUCKING DEAD ANYMORE.

Anyway, here’s the deal with Garona.  Yeah, she’s half orc, half draenei.  Back in the day, Gul’dan bred an orc and a draenei to create a personal assassin – enter Garona.  Yeah, she looks mostly orcish, but I guess these racial mixes are kind of a crap shoot as far as which race’s physical traits you get.

Anyhow, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure exactly when Gul’dan actually orchestrated her birth.  I know it was definitely before the Dark Portal opened, and that was about 30 years ago, but before that, there was a window of about 20 years when Gul’dan was up to some Really Bad Shit, so the breeding experiment could have happened anywhere in there.  Let’s shave off the first couple years to give Gul’dan time to come up with this idea and for Garona to be brought to term.  That would mean that Garona would have to be anywhere from, say, 32 (She’s not.  Seriously.  I’m 35.  There’s no damn way she’s younger than me.) to around 48 or so.  Anywhere in between, your guess is as good as mine.

Hang on, though – this gets more complicated when you add the fact that Gul’dan had Garona aged magically so that she could get right to work, no childhood needed.  Swell guy, huh?  Anyway, the age of adulthood among orcs varies a little from clan to clan, usually somewhere from 13 to 15.  (Yeah, I know, kid, can you believe it?  Technically you’re an adult.  Hard to imagine you’re a grown-up, huh?  Well, let me clue you in on a little secret: That thought won’t stop seeming weird for another 20 years.)  So that would mean, however old Garona is according to the calendar, she really has the body of a woman 13-some-odd years older.  So now we’re looking at a physical age putting her somewhere between 45 and, like, 60-something.  Which is kind of a big deal when you consider that 70 is about as old as you could reasonably hope to live as an orc, even if you do a perfect job taking care of yourself.

Oh, but hang on, we’re not done yet.  It’s about to get more complicated.  (Don’t look at me – I didn’t make this shit up.)  Because, see, since Garona has that draenei half, her aging is even more fucked up.  Draenei live for…like…forever.  I mean seriously, I think the average draenei lifespan is something like “infinity minus twelve.”  So you mix THOSE genes in with our good, wholesome “70 if you’re super lucky” orcish genes, and…well… You’ve got a woman who’s technically, like, 40, only with the body of a 53-year-old, only not really because 53 doesn’t mean anywhere near the same thing to the draenei part of her, so…um… Who the fuck knows?

She’s old, okay?  Only she’s kind of not.  Only she is.  Whatever – you go figure it out.  Meanwhile I’m going to go check around the room and make sure there aren’t any whooshing sounds coming from the corners.

 

The following is written in elegant, but slightly shaky, cursive script on pale peach-colored parchment paper

My dear little Roshy,

How are you doing? I have missed you. It’s beautiful here in Nagrand – we’re having the most glorious late-fall weather.  I hope all is well in Orgrimmar.

Why didn’t you tell me you have a girlfriend?  Sounds serious too… She has been sending me letters telling me about how deeply in love you both are, and has included many pictures of you with little hearts and flowers drawn on them.  She says you’re getting married in the spring?  Why didn’t you mention it?  You would think you’d keep your own family informed, dear.  We’ll have to have a little chat the next time you visit.  You are coming home for Winter Veil, are you not?

Also, you should take some pictures of the two of you together.  And perhaps find a new photo studio.  These look like they were printed on magazine paper instead of proper photo paper.  I can’t properly frame them for display, especially not with the lipstick kisses smeared all over them.

All my love,

–Greatmother Geyah.

Hold on, hold on, what… how the… it… GODDAMMIT, SOMEBODY IS FALSIFYING RECORDS OF THEIR WARCHIEF, and…and…  Oh fucking hell, now I’m going to have to go out there and explain Photoshop to her.  It was bad enough when I had the bright idea to try to show her the internet.  Nothing in my e-mail for two months but forwarded pictures of wyverns asking for cheeseburgers.  And WHO is this woman who’s…ugh.  You know what?  I don’t even think I want to know.  Even though I can probably think of a couple likely suspects.

Now I’m just imagining somewhere in Orgrimmar there’s a dim, candle-lit room with walls covered by pictures of me, and…no, no, don’t even go any further with that, Garrosh.  That way madless lies.

And now on top of everything, I have to squeeze in a trip to Nagrand before Winter Veil totally runs out on me, or I’m never going to hear the end of it.  Ugh.  Maybe I’ll bring Gurtash, and see if I can maybe distract her a little with the cute kid factor.  Or Ruekie?  I bet she’d like Ruekie.  Plus Rook might want someplace to hide anyway, what with her probably having Garona out for her head as soon as this post goes live.

 

Very good to hear you have escaped the Saurok caves unharmed. The Horde would be in a very dire position if we were to lose our leader.

I do have one question. Have you ever thought of asking a mage if they could manage to conjure lemon squares? I have no complaints, but the same old sticky buns are a bit tiring after some time (not to mention they turn stale and hard as a rock after some time sitting in a bag). Perhaps you should collaborate with my wife? I am sure she would be very good to collaborate with, or maybe another mage closer to your location.

Regards,

–Shen-Wei Pureblossom

Thanks for writing, Shen-Wei.  You know, I HAVE thought of this lemon squares angle before, but here’s the thing.  First off, there was a point around this time last year that I really thought Gija down in the Cleft of Shadow was on to something, but the problem is, lemon squares don’t really lend themselves to conjuring, apparently.  I mean, you can abracadabra up some pastries that are sorta, KINDA in the same ballpark as lemon squares, but you can tell they’re not the real thing.  It’s like the drop-off from real leather to that fake shit that the damn DEHTA hippies try to pass off and think they’re fooling anybody.  And once you’re used to eating the real thing, I mean, come on.  It would be like going from having me as Warchief to, I don’t even know, a fucking TROLL or something.

Second of all, having spent my whole life eating those lemon squares, let me tell you, we don’t need mages recreating Greatmother’s recipe, because IT’S ALREADY MAGICAL.  (See?  See how I’m already working on smoothing things over with her?  For real, I’m so fucking diplomatic you could just shit a brick.)

Also, even setting all that aside… Nothing personal, but I don’t take anybody up on any suggestions that include the phrase “perhaps you should collaborate with my wife” ever since the Incident That Shall Not Be Discussed over at Tharl Stonebleeder’s house.  Now stop making me think about things that cannot be unthought.  MOVING ON.

 

Hail Warchief.

Rumors are flying that there is a red pox outbreak. Is this anything like the scourge?

–Kelytas, Blood Elf Paladin, Borean Tundra

Wait, again with the Red Pox?  No!  We’re not going to talk about the Red Pox.  Why the fuck is everybody so curious about the Red Pox all of a sudden?

 

I really enjoyed that Photo-Op you had with King Varian a while ago.  I couldn’t help but notice that King Varian had a wonderful tousled-Anime-pigtail thing going on that was at the same time sexy but tough, and you…well, you just look cranky.

I checked in with the Couturier Barbershop in downtown Orgrimmar and was quite frankly shocked at the dismal array of hairstyles available.  An up-swept Mohawk with a scarf?  Are you kidding me?

I know you might have a couple of things on your plate right now but seriously, you really need to look into this before the entire Horde start looking like extras from Naxxramas.

Maybe you could contact King Varian, find out who does his hair and we could have a Stylist Exchange with one of our Barbers so they could learn some new hair techniques and bring back the Glory of the Horde.

I also noticed that our Tailors are in desperate need of new patterns.  Malevolent-style silk pantaloons?  Really?  That is so last-season…

–A Concerned Fashionista Blood Elf

Lor’themar, is that you?

Yeah, let me get right on that.  I’ll send a special diplomatic courier right over to Stormwind with a note that says, “Who does your hair??”  Yeah, that would go over great, I’m sure.

Hmm.  Actually, come to think of it, a message like that would probably seem SO weird to Varian that it might fuck with his head a little.  Like, I can totally imagine him reading that and thinking, “Garrosh wouldn’t give a shit about my hair…WHAT IS HE UP TO?”  And then he gets all paranoid and shit.  And meanwhile I’m just sitting back and not doing anything, and the longer this goes on the more paranoid he gets – ESPECIALLY when it’s time for him to go to the barber, because, hey, THIS IS WHAT GARROSH WAS ASKING ABOUT.  And maybe he gets so messed up and suspicious that he stops going to the barber altogether, and his hair grows and grows, and finally he’s just got this total mess of a rat’s nest on his head, until maybe he eventually can’t stand it anymore and shaves it all off and ends up bald.  Same as me.

There you have it, ACFBE.  Problem solved.  Garrosh comes out ahead of the curve yet again.  Boom.

 

Hail, Warchief!

I’m studying Orcish History at school and need to write an essay. I thought I’d write about the Red Pox and it’s impact, and I thought it would be neat if I could quote you on the subject, if you don’t mind.

I know it was a terrible illness, but there aren’t any first-hand records that I’ve been able to find. What was it like to live with the Red Pox? Do you remember much from those years? Did you notice any major differences between Orcish society as a whole and the way Orcs lived in Garadar? Pretty much anything you can remember would be great.

Thanks!

–Anonymous Scholar, Orgrimmar

Okay, so at least NOW I have some idea of why everybody’s got the Red Pox on the brain this week.  So okay, fine, just this once I’ll talk about it, seeing as I’m probably one of the only Red Pox survivors a lot of these kids will have the chance to meet.

It sucked.

What, you wanted more?  FINE.

I’m not going to waste time going over the symptoms, because there must already be records of that, and I’m pretty sure neither one of us wants to spend our lunch break reviewing my childhood vomiting habits.  But yeah, I had it as a kid, and even setting aside the physical suffering of it all, I can’t stress enough how much of an effect it had on the culture of Garadar.  I mean, you asked if there were any major differences between Garadar society and orcish society as a whole?  Fuck, what WASN’T different?  The Red Pox hung over our whole culture.  It touched everything.  We had whole generations who were born and died – prematurely, granted – under the bane of that thing.  That was the worst part of it, really – the sense of resignation it left us with.  It was like, for a lot of us, there was this sense that the Red Pox came for our grandparents, and then it came for our parents, and now it’s going to come for us.

Over the years, our shaman kept working to find a cure, and every so often there would be a glimmer of hope that maybe they had something.  But then there would always be some disaster that would undo it.  After a while that became part of the gloom and doom of it – the shaman would come up with a new possibility, and you never quite stopped hoping, but deep down you were thinking, “Okay, let’s see what fucks it up THIS time.”  Even when they finally did find a cure, and the suffering could finally end, a lot of us couldn’t even quite believe it was really happening.

Adding to all this, by the way, was the fact that over in Telaar, the draenei had their own parallel illness going on for a while.  It was called the lank distemper – or the “Lanks,” as a lot of folks ended up calling it.  Basically an infection that caused severe dehydration and loss of appetite, so the afflicted would wither down to these scrawny shadows of their former selves.  Sometimes the two diseases would flare up as if they had a contest going to see which one could kill more victims.  Which made for some miserable times for everybody involved.  Believe me, for anyone who was living through it, you do NOT want to get them started on the whole Lanks / Red Pox rivalry.

Is that enough?  Are you happy yet?  Or do I need to relive the time the conjured healing sphere rolled between Bullrok’s legs and into the lake, too?

 

Dear Garrosh;

Winter Veil is here! Time for a great orc cheer! Lok’tar!

I am so looking forward to making cookies and milk for Greatfather Winter this year with my new cooking skills I learned from Pilgrim’s Bounty holiday. I may even add some lemon squares to add some extra favor. I’m really hoping this year he’ll give me a ferocious armored bloodwing with exotic leather saddle for riding. That would be so cool! (Sigh, I’ll probably end up with another copper racer though.)

What are you hoping for Winter Veil this year, Mr. Garrosh sir?

Varian on a spire tree?

Blood and thunder!

–Ruekie, Shaman-Still-in-Training

PS: Greatfather Winter looks awful familiar, but I can’t quite figure it out. Kinda like Mr. Saurfang, but that would be impossible…I think. (Nothing is impossible with Mr. Saurfang.)

PPS: Winter Veil holiday is a great time for eating. Try no to eat too many lemon squares, though, sir. It doesn’t take much to make your muscles look like marshmallows.  D: 

Bye!

Wait, Ruekie AGAIN?  When the hell is she writing all these letters?  Fuck, maybe I should hire HER as a scribe, if this is how fast she can crank out pages.  Anyway.

So also, before we get into anything else…hang on, you want a BLOODWING for Winter Veil?  A frigging BAT?  All of a sudden, a WYVERN isn’t good enough for little miss tornado-pants?  You’ve seen Mortimer in action, up close and personal, and you’ve decided, “Nah, let’s give the universe a sporting chance – keep the wings, take away all the parts that really make the wyvern badass, and replace them with a giant blind rat”?  Are you KIDDING me?

I already answered the part about what I want for Winter Veil a few letters up, so no need to get into that again.  And I’m not going to dignify the lemon squares thing with a response.  But I have to comment on that thing you said about Greatfather Winter.  You know, one thing that people always say about Greatfather Winter is that there’s no way the guy could possibly fly all around the world and deliver presents to everyone in just one night.  Well, I think you might have found the one gaping hole in that theory.  So, next time you find yourself in an argument with some skeptic who doesn’t want to believe in Greatfather Winter, just unload this one on them:

“I’m telling you, there isn’t enough time for Greatfather Winter to do all that!  It isn’t physically possible!”

“What if Greatfather Winter is really Saurfang?”

“Oh… Um… Well then.”

 

Yo Mon!

I hear you had de red pox, mon. On dat game Earth Online dey has a disees call chicken pox. Es dat de same? (What do chickens haf to do wit dat?)

Dey say in dat game, once you hav it, you cannot get et again. Yah, mon, you are now invisible to dat disees, like de lich king’s horse.  Dat is good news!

Cheers, mon!

–Bobbette, Out der somewhere

…

Okay.

So.

I am beginning to get the very distinct impression that I may be getting trolled.

 

Hey mon!

What’s dis I be hearin’ about da Red Pox breakin’ out again?  It be all anybody be talkin’ ’bout dese days!  If you get it, does dat mean ya turns red?  I remember seein’ some red orcs back in Hellfire Peninsula, mon, was dey havin’ da Red Pox?  Dey go from green ta red?  Don’t get me wrong, mon, I don’t want nobody gettin’ sick, but if dere be anudda outbreak, look on da bright side – all dat red an’ green togetha be lookin’ nice an’ festive for Winter Veil!

–Bob, Shado-pan Monastery

I hate you.  I really, truly hate you.

 

Excuse me, Warchief, I write to you from Dustwallow marsh, I came here to see if I could find test subjects for a new flamethrower, and found something much more interesting, there is this mysterious woman on the road to the ruined theramore (hah!) and she seems to be able to send me back in time to look at theramore and the swamp before theramore was destroyed, I went to sleep at mudsprocket and woke up in present day. She seems upset that I was killing humans as soon as I was there, and refuses to send me again.

–Ritaba, Mudsprocket 

Wait, wait, hang on.  Let me get this straight.  You’re telling me that there’s someone hanging around Dustwallow Marsh sending people back in time to Theramore before we blew it up?  As in, making it possible to totally sidestep our whole victory and interact with the place like it was before?  That… fucking hell, THAT DEFEATS THE WHOLE POINT OF US BLOWING IT UP IF YOU CAN FUCKING DO THAT!

You know, this has the Bronze Dragonflight written all over it — or at least it WOULD, if it weren’t for the fact that this is PRECISELY THE SAME KIND OF SHIT they they’ve been recruiting people to PREVENT for years now, and by the way didn’t I just march through like 50 miles of steaming shit over their whole “integrity of the past” deal last year?!  But hey, apparently it’s NO BIG DEAL when you’re talking about Theramore, right?  SURE!  WHY NOT?  Hey, how about I zip on back to the past and start fucking with shit too, because I GUESS THAT’S ON THE MENU NOW, RIGHT?

Fucking dragons.  FUCKING TIME TRAVEL!

UGH!

 

I have been reading the history of Pandaria, and discovered something no one has bothered to take note of, seven burdens of Shaohao, the story of how the last emperor of Pandaria defeated the six sha and locked them away in a poor fashion (He couldn’t have kept them from causing havok any time someone gets cranky?), and there are older writings indicating a beast with seven heads, perhaps there is a seventh sha never recorded, it could be the key to controlling them.

–Yinsun, Vale of Eternal Blossoms

Now see, THIS is an example of some research that might actually be useful.  You might be on to something there, Yinsun.  It DOES seem kind of fishy that we have this story about Shaohao and his seven burdens, and this seven-headed thingamabob, and then we only have six sha that we know about.  It’s definitely worth considering whether we’ve got one more sha on the loose that nobody’s thought of.  (Hell, I was even bouncing ideas about this around with some people on Twitter a little while ago.)

For anybody keeping score at home, we might as well start with the basics.  Right now, we’ve got six sha accounted for: the Sha of Doubt, the Sha of Anger, the Sha of Despair, the Sha of Violence, the Sha of Hatred, and the Sha of Fear.

So, okay, let’s suppose there’s one more out there.  Since the sha we know about all seem to be named for pretty major negative emotions or vices…hmm…let’s see, what do we have left for major negatives?

There could be a Sha of Greed, I suppose.  Although…I mean, we have goblins with us, and I have to figure if there were a Sha of Greed, people like Grizzle Gearslip would be setting the fucker off left and right.  The Sha of Jealousy, maybe?  Makes sense on paper, but again, you’d figure we’d be having outbreaks all over the place, seeing as we’ve got a base full of people who’ve been watching me stroll around day after day.  And you KNOW the peeps get jelly when they feast their eyes to the pure awesome that is yours truly, amirite?

So we’re kind of running out of major vices to pair up with the missing sha.  What else is there?  Free-associate, Garrosh… hmm… the Sha of Gluttony?  The Sha of Sloth?  The Sha of Anteater?

Hang on…I think that line of thought took a wrong turn on me somehow.

Maybe we’re going about this wrong.  Time to think outside the box a little.  For all we know, this last sha could be kind of a niche sha, something more specific and less…well…grandiose.  Which might explain why this one might have been able to fly under the radar all this time.  So, let’s see, what else could be out there as the sneakier, subtler bane of our existence…

• The Sha of Social Awkwardness
• The Sha of Small Talk
• The Sha of Poor Table Manners
• The Sha of Bad Penmanship
• The Sha of Bad Spelling
• The Sha of Typos (possibly related to above)
• The Sha of Not Picking Up After Your Wyvern
• The Sha of Repetition
• The Sha of Redundancy
• The Sha of Telegraphing Bad Jokes
• The Sha of Walking Really Slowly in Front of People at the Mall
• The Sha of Paper Towels with Inexplicably Strong Perforation So You Try to Snap Off One Square and End Up Yanking Out Half the Roll
• The Sha of Telling the Same Story Over and Over and Over Again Even Though Yes I Already Know How You Met Eitrigg Okay Tirion

Okay, you know what?  This is going nowhere fast.

Wait, wait, hang on a second… I could swear I HAVE seen another sha somewhere.

HOLY FUCKING HELL THAT’S IT!  THE SHA OF HAPPINESS!  Come to think of it, I even remember seeing this fucker on Twitter!  Fuckin’ A, I KNEW all those annoyingly happy assholes like Mylune were up to no good!  IT ALL MAKES SENSE NOW.

 

Okay, that’s going to do it for this time, but keep those letters coming.  You guys really stepped up to the plate with this batch of letters, so you know what that means — THE BAR HAS BEEN RAISED.  So keep it going, and I’ll try to be back with more wise words soon.  Handy form included:

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Δ

Monday mailbag

So before I head out to check on the Temple of the Red Crane, I figured I’d make a quick mailbag check and dip into the latest batch of letters.

 

Dear Warchief,

Hello sir.  I’m one of Overlord Runthak’s trainees and I’ve been reading your blog for a long time.  I’ve noticed that between Garona and Warlord Zaela, and even mailbag writers like Wega, you really seem to have a following among the ladies.  My question is, how do you do it?  I haven’t had much luck with the girls in my training group, and I bet it would help a lot if I knew your secret.

Thank you,

–Dol’akar

Hoo boy.  This one again.  See, Dol’akar, I wish it was that simple, but seriously, this is kind of like going up to Mylune and saying, “Teach me to be batshit crazy like you.”

Thing is, something like 85% of my game comes down to the fact that I look like a canister of distilled sexy, kick ass on two planets, and – let’s face it – lay the pipe like an army of plumbers in the Wetlands.  And all that’s just natural.  Now, since you’re a trainee, I’d like to tell you that part of your problem is that you’re still just a teenager, and adolescent awkwardness and blah blah blah, and things will get better as you get older, but honestly?  I was doing just fine for myself when I was a teenager in Nagrand (I tell you, those draenei girls were crazy back in the day), so, you know…again, natural.

Still, if you think it’ll help you at all, I can let you in on the other 30% of my game.  To start with, you want to buckle down in your combat training.  This should help you in a number of ways.  First off, it’ll keep you in good shape, which at least gives you an outside chance of offsetting a little sliver of the disadvantage of having no shot at being as dead sexy as me.  Second, it’ll put you in a better position to beat the living crap out of any competition you might run into from among the other trainees.  This will show the girls that you’re sensitive to their needs.  Those needs being, of course, that they need to stop wasting their time on those other assholes and focus on you, and hey, what the fuck do you even think YOU’RE doing here, chump?  But yeah, girls seem to like that sensitivity crap – don’t ask me why – so that should win you some points.  And third, the better you do in battle, the faster you’ll be able to advance through the ranks.

Which brings us right to our next point: power is sexy.  Let me tell you, after Nazgrim made the jump from Sergeant all the way up to Legionnaire and then General, he had women all over him.  You know, until he crashed two ships and killed them all.  But that’s a whole other thing.  (This reminds me of another suggestion: Work on your piloting skills.  Because why tempt fate?)  Anyway, point being, moving up in the world can only help your chances.  Just keep in mind that you’re looking at a hard cap of High Overlord, seeing as the only thing above that is Warchief, and we all know I’m not going anywhere for a long time.

Hope this helps.

 

Hey hey, Garry!  Wazzup, my man?

I just built myself a chopper and it’s hella rad. Damn, but I look kickass ridin’ that hog! Got the ladies all over me.  But then I thought I need some wicked cool tats to seal the deal, ya know what I mean?  So I was flippin’ through some mags for ideas and whoa!  Double page spread of Mr. Warchief-crush-your-head himself!  And I’m like, “Dayum, that’s some fine art right there.”  High five, buddy.

So… where’d you get your ink done?  I need a parlor that can capture my style, yo.

–Fizzpop “The Fizz” Clutchgear

Sup, Fizz.  First of all, before we go any further – I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again:

Okay, now that that’s out of the way.

Glad to see that somebody appreciates the tattoos.  Oh, wait, lots of somebodies already do, of the female persuasion (see previous letter).  But still, thanks anyway.

I had most of my tattoos done in that little window of relatively-not-fucked-up time just after becoming Warchief and just before the Cataclysm.  They’re ceremonial markings from the Warsong clan, done by a Mag’har tattoo artist from Nagrand.  I actually had him recommended to me by blademaster Burzum.  He was always really helpful.  You know, before he went all snarly-sha-crazy.  But I digress.

I could put you in touch with the guy if you want to look him up.  If you ever find yourself in Garadar, look for Vanteg.  I hear he’s been in pretty high demand since word got out that he’d done the Warchief’s ink, so you might have to get on a waiting list.  Feel free to drop my name, though.  He might skip you ahead in line.  Either that, or he’ll figure you’re another one of the people who show up and lie about knowing me, in which case, you know, sucks for you.  Them’s the breaks.

 

Hail, Warchief!

Well, of course the Star-Tribune is biased. (Besides, I’m pretty sure that if you trace it through far enough, the Regent-Lord owns it.) That’s not the point. The official line has always been that the Regent-Lord is doing a fine, bang-up job. And, at least out loud and in public, everyone with an ounce of sense agrees. He’s not above having his guys straight-up mind-control people talking out of turn in public. For real-talk, you have to go to the shadowy dives off of Murder Row … and what’s new is that it’s getting harder to find dissent even there. It may be begrudged respect, but growing respect, nonetheless. People want to believe that the old Lor’themar is coming back, the man who used to be the Ranger-General’s second-in-command, the one who used to be … well, not completely useless. And perception can take on a reality all its own.

Then again, this may just mean that the magisters have started slumming, and everyone’s getting a helping of re-programming. It’d still have the same effect, and I’m not qualified to tell the difference.

–A Concerned Citizen

Hey, ACC.  Good to hear from you as always.

So hang on, let me make sure I have this straight.  You’re saying that Ponytail controls the media and information outlets in Silvermoon, is forcibly silencing dissent, and is subtly manipulating the population of his capital city into a hero-worshipping, glory-seeking, cult-of-personality bunch of jingoistic wahoos?

Hoo boy.  That’s not good news for anybody any way you cut it.

 

Warchief Garrosh Hellscream,

Sir,

I was out picking herbs today to mill for me inscription training.  It’s Father’s Day and I was picking Gromsblood, which got me to wondering … How do ye feel about having an herb that only grows in places tainted by fel magics be named after yer dad? And if it bothers ye, have ye ever thought of having it changed?

Sincerely,

–Kriann, Jr. Member, Explorers’ League

Hey, good to hear from you, Kriann.  On the other hand, kind of sounds like you might be a dwarf, in which case, fuck you, Kriann.  Anyway, thanks for writing.

So about the gromsblood.  I see where you’re going with the fel-tainted thing, but that’s never really bothered me.  For one thing, I usually just look at it as a name given to honor the awesomeness of my dad.  It’s actually pretty fitting, in a way.  Wherever there’s land infested with fel magic, wherever there are demons lurking about, there’s a little reminder of Grom, ready to give them the ol’ Mannoroth special.  I usually don’t read much more into it than that.

Also, the fact of the matter is, it’s not at all uncommon to have an herb named after a prominent figure.  There are tons of them.  You probably know about Khadgar’s whisker, for instance, and then there was Arthas’ tears until that stupid ballot initiative passed and renamed them to sorrowmoss, because spirits forbid we should offend the spirit of Arthas and make him cry even more.  But there are actually lots of other, more obscure ones that a lot of people haven’t heard about.  For instance:

Creeping Sylvanas – Sometimes called the Syl-vine-us, although that’s actually inaccurate since it’s not technically a vine.  This is a strange type of plant that’s created by herbicides.  You spray your garden and kill the weeds…and then a few days later, those hey-weren’t-those-dead weeds grow back in the form of creeping Sylvanas.  And start killing loads of other plants and turning THEM into creeping Sylvanas.  And then after a while they seem to settle down and mostly get along with most of the regular vegetables in your garden, only you can’t quite shake the sinking feeling that maybe they’re up to something that you can’t put your finger on.

Broxigar Thornbush – The only plant ever known to harm Sargeras.  Which is a weird distinction to keep track of, but I guess academics need something to do.  Anyway, when Sargeras first arrived on Azeroth, he started ranting on and on about “dark titan” this and “destruction is nigh” that – you know, like you do when you’re a cartoonish bad guy – and then in the middle of this, he pricked himself on one of these thornbushes, and started howling pathetically about “Ouch my finger owies ow OWW!”  Which kind of took the edge off the whole “fiery apocalypse” thing.  Kind of gives you an idea of why the dude lost, though.

Lor’themar Pansy – Contrary to what you’re probably thinking, this isn’t a reference to the actual guy, but to a plant.  As a general rule, if you see some frilly-looking flowers around somewhere, and you kind of recognize them, but you’re not sure what they’re called, so you’re all, “You know, those flowers.  From the place.  The red ones”?  Those are probably Lor’themar pansies.

Cairne Blossom – This plant used to grow all over the place in Mulgore until Magatha tricked me into pruning it all.  Oops.

Fordragon Lily – These tall, striking bulb plants were named for Bolvar Fordragon, since they used to grow all around his old outpost in the Dragonblight.  For some reason, right at the end of the Northrend campaign, they all withered and mutated into a strain of lichbloom.  I’ve never been able to figure that one out.  I tried asking Tirion about it once, and he just got all quiet.  Which is noteworthy because it was the only time in history that the words “Tirion” and “quiet” have ever appeared together in a sentence that didn’t also include the words “needs to be.”

Thrallvine – This stuff grows on the side of your house and pretty much just sits there being innocuous and not doing anything, other than making random passers-by yammer on about how awesome it is.  Then out of the blue it goes on a crazy growth spurt so everywhere you look, there it is, until you’re just goddamn sick of looking at it all the time.  I bet you could replace that shit with a way better plant that would make your house stronger and be nicer on the eyes to boot, but you’ll probably just wind up with a bunch of assholes bitching about it.  Also your landlord seems to have an inexplicable, unhealthy attachment to the stuff so you know they’d never let you get rid of it.

 

That’s it for this time around.  As always, keep those letters coming, and I’ll try to brighten your empty lives with my inspiring answers again soon.

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Anger management

The other day I mentioned there being some meeting that Orphan Matron Battlewail wanted me to attend if I were serious about getting Gurtash.  She had me check in with Social Services, which is being run by some goblins these days.  Don’t ask me how that happened.  But they filled in a little more of the story.  They’ve got one of Ji Firepaw’s panda friends holding a kind of seminar on dealing with anger, and they’ve opened it up to anybody who wants to attend.  The only catch – well, other than the fact that this whole fucking waste of time is one huge catch in itself since WTF why do these fuckers keep acting like I’ve got some kind of fucking problem with my goddamn temper or some shit – is that they want all the attendees to have someone come with them, sort of a sponsor.  My first thought was to bring Malkorok, seeing as he’s technically my bodyguard and should be going places with me anyway, but then I got to thinking that this gig might not be the kind of thing that…well…let’s just say the purposes of the session might not be facilitated by having Malkorok in the room.

Plus, really, why do I need a bodyguard again?  Isn’t that kind of like getting a watch dog to guard your giant rabid wolverine?

So, bottom line, I got Mokvar to come with me.  Which also had the added benefit of…

 

Garrosh and Mokvar enter a room in which several chairs have been arranged in a circle.  At the far end of the room, a middle-aged pandaren woman is talking with Eitrigg.

GARROSH:  So, um, we’re here for the meeting?  Not sure we’ve got the right place.

The pandaren woman, all smiles, walks over to greet them.

PANDAREN:  Oh, no, you are in the right place, Warchief.  It is good to see you again.

GARROSH:  Yeah, you too.  We’ve met?

PANDAREN:  <laughs softly>  Yes, a few weeks back, but I will understand if you do not remember me.  You were meeting quite a few of us from the Wandering Isle that day.

GARROSH:  Ah.  Yeah.  And to be honest, no offense, most of you pandas still sort of blend together for me.

PANDAREN:  Are you saying my people all look alike to you?

GARROSH:  Actually not so much all look alike as there are like six variations I can recognize.

MOKVAR:  To be fair, I’m not sure we orcs are much better.

GARROSH:  True enough.  And the less said about the trolls the better.

MOKVAR:  Well, Vol’jin stands out some.

GARROSH:  Well yeah.  I was going to ask the other day, actually – did he have some work done?  He looks different.

MOKVAR:  I was wondering that too!  So I’m not the only one that noticed?

GARROSH:  Dude, he sprouted an extra toe on the backs of his feet.

MOKVAR:  Seriously?  That’s freaky as hell.

GARROSH:  I know, right?  <looks back to the pandaren woman>  Anyway…um…we can probably discuss this another time.

The woman smiles bemusedly.

PANDAREN:  In any case, Warchief, it is good to meet you more properly now.  <extends her paw>  I am Ben-Lin Cloudstrider.  I have been a student of meditation among our people for many years.  I look forward to sharing some of these techniques with you today.

GARROSH:  Yeah.  Great.  So listen, Ben, how long you figure this is going to take?

BEN-LIN:  The session shall take as long as it takes.

GARROSH:  Ah.  One of those.  Terrific.

MOKVAR:  So, Eitrigg, what are you doing here?

GARROSH:  Yeah, Eitrigg, you never struck me as having a temper.

EITRIGG:  I don’t really.  I’m not here for me; I’m sponsoring a friend.  He just hasn’t gotten here yet.

GARROSH:  Ah, okay.  Wait…hold on…a “friend”?  Please don’t tell me…

Tirion Fordring enters.

TIRION:  Ah, greetings, Warchief!  A pleasure as always to see you once again.  And doubly so, of course, for you, Eitrigg, my dear friend of many years.  Far too many days have passed since last we enjoyed each other’s company…

GARROSH:  <rubbing his forehead>  Dude, you just saw him a couple months ago.  I know.  I was there.

TIRION:  Perhaps!  Perhaps, good Warchief!  And perhaps indeed the calendar might insist that the interval has been short – but the spirit, my friend, the spirit tells me the time has been long!  For surely, good Garrosh, you know of those imes when the moments feel far longer than the clock might otherwise claim.

GARROSH:  <still rubbing his forehead>  All too well, Tirion…

MOKVAR:  Eitrigg, I’m still not sure I understand.  Tirion never struck me as very temperamental either.

Eitrigg, standing behind Tirion, makes a drinking motion with his hand.

Ah.  Got it.

BEN-LIN:  It appears more of our attendees are arriving.  I should introduce myself, if you will pardon me a moment.

Ben-Lin steps toward the door, where Lor’themar Theron enters, accompanied by Liadrin.  While Ben-Lin talks to them, Faranell enters and walks over to Garrosh and Mokvar.

GARROSH:  Hey, Doc.

FARANELL:  Hey.

MOKVAR:  You’re here for the meeting too, Edwin?

FARANELL:  Mmhmm.  As soon as I heard about this, I cleared my schedule for this afternoon.

MOKVAR:  I didn’t know you had anger issues.

FARANELL:  I don’t.

Faranell sits down and takes out a large bag of popcorn.

Lor’themar and Liadrin leave Ben-Lin and approach Garrosh et al.  Ben-Lin circles around and talks with Tirion and Eitrigg in the background.

MOKVAR:  Hey Liadrin.

LIADRIN:  Hello, Mokvar.  Edwin.  Warchief.

GARROSH:  Hey, Liadrin.  Who’s your friend?  Is he sponsoring you or something?

LOR’THEMAR:  You see?  YOU SEE?  This is EXACTLY what I was talking about!  Every time!  EVERY SINGLE TIME!  No matter HOW many damn times I meet them, the NEXT time it’s always “Oh, so who’s this guy?”

LIADRIN:  Now now, try to calm down, sir…

GARROSH:  Okay, standing corrected on who’s sponsoring who here.

LIADRIN:  This has been a long time coming, frankly.

GARROSH:  Yeah, fine, but seriously, who IS he?

LOR’THEMAR:  <shaking Garrosh violently>  I’M LOR’THEMAR THERON, YOU PEA-BRAINED, MOUTH-BREATHING OAF!  RULER OF SILVERMOON!  LEADER OF THE BLOOD ELVES!  I BUILT YOU A DAMN MANA BOMB TO COMMIT WAR CRIMES WITH, YOU IGNORANT VULGARIAN!

GARROSH:  <shoving Lor’themar back>  YOU’RE the vulgarian, you fuck!

FARANELL:  <munching on popcorn>  So much better than doing culture samples with Zinge.

LOR’THEMAR:  How DIFFICULT is it to remember WHO SOMEONE IS after you MEET THEM FOR THE TWENTIETH TIME?!

GARROSH:  Apparently VERY, when the someone in question isn’t frigging IMPORTANT enough to be REMEMBERED, Ponytail!

MOKVAR:  He blew up about this on our game the other day, actually.

LIADRIN:  I heard.

MOKVAR:  Has he been at it all this time?

LIADRIN:  More or less.  This is something he’s been bottling up for a while, really.

Ben-Lin returns to the group, with Tirion and Eitrigg close behind.

BEN-LIN:  If we might all find our seats.  The last few should arrive shortly.

Everyone settles into the chairs.

Good afternoon, all of you, and thank you for coming today.  I am Ben-Lin Cloudstrider of the Huojin Pandaren, and I will be conducting today’s session.  My people chose to join the Horde in large part because of our shared belief in confronting challenges directly, and it is in that spirit that I would like to commend each of you for coming here today.  By chosing to attend, you have demonstrated your recognition of an enemy of sorts within yourselves, and your resolve to face and defeat that enemy.

GARROSH:  Pfft, I don’t know about these people, but I got railroaded by the orphan matron.  Screw this personal-growth hippie bullshit.

LOR’THEMAR:  Same here.  <nods head toward Liadrin>  This one twisted my arm.

GARROSH:  Personally I think the whole thing is a load of crap.

MOKVAR:  Would it really kill you to just bite your tongue and humor people this one time?

LIADRIN:  <sighs>  I wonder what it would be like if some of our leaders were actually adults…

BEN-LIN:  Ah.  I am sensing resistance from some of you.  This is unfortunate.  I hope you will come to see the merit of our activities as we go along.  Let us begin by each introducing ourselves and telling the group why we are here.

She turns to Faranell.

Let us begin with you.  Would you like to introduce yourself to the group, my friend?

FARANELL:  <tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth>  It would make my life complete.

BEN-LIN:  <unfazed>  Delightful.  Please go on.

FARANELL:  Yeah, fine.  Hey.  I’m Edwin.  Most of you already know that.  All of you, actually, so good use of time here.  Don’t mind me, I’m just here for the LOL’s.

BEN-LIN:  <blinks>  Ah.  I see.

She turns hesitantly and looks to Tirion.

And you, sir?

TIRION:  Thank you, Lady Cloudstrider, many thanks indeed, both for your gracious greeting and for your generosity in offering up your valuable time – time very much in demand, I have no doubt, among your people – in arranging this gathering for the benefit of all here.  And a great honor, and, indeed, blessing it is to find myself today amid this honored company, for as I look about the room I find my gaze met by the faces of many of the most esteemed of our respective peoples…

GARROSH:  Oh man.  He’s ON today…

TIRION:  And so, in keeping with your request, noble Lady Cloudstrider, allow me to introduce myself.  I am Tirion Fordring, Highlord of the Argent Crusade, Knight of the Silver Hand, master of Mardenholde Keep, bearer of the secred Ashbringer—

GARROSH:  Murderer of Wills to Live…

TIRION:  —and I find myself here today among you at the recommendation of my dear friend, the noble and sage orc Eitrigg, who suggested this gathering might prove valuable to me, both for my personal growth and likewise in allaying the oft-expressed concerns of some number of my Argent colleagues, such as the hallowed Confessor Palteress and my personal aide, the noble Miss Daria L’Rayne…

The door to the room opens, and Hamuul Runetotem leans in.

HAMUUL:  Excuse me, is this the anger management seminar?

BEN-LIN:  Indeed it is, my friend.

HAMUUUL:  Ah, good.  I hope I’m not interrupting anything.

GARROSH:  Yes, you are, and thank goodness.

BEN-LIN:  Please come in.

Hamuul steps into the room, holding the door open, and waves outside.

HAMUUL:  Come on in, it’s the right place.

A nervous-looking Mylune enters.

BEN-LIN:  <glancing down at a clipboard>  Ah, you must be the two from Mount Hyjal.

HAMUUL:  Yes.  I’m Hamuul Runetotem, and this is my…colleague Mylune.

GARROSH:  Oh man.  Hide your kittens…

MYLUNE:  <perks up>  There are kittens?

GARROSH:  Oh yeah, loads of them in the Cleft of Kittens.

MYLUNE:  Ooh!  Ooh!  There’s a Cleft of Kittens?  Where’s that?

GARROSH:  Right at the southern end of the Valley of Ridiculous Hallucinations – it’s fucking ORGRIMMAR.  What the hell do you think this is?

MYLUNE:  <deflated>  Oh.  I thought there might be kittens…

HAMUUL:  Perhaps just as well, given your recent…episode.

MYLUNE:  <slumps her head and closes her eyes>  I don’t know what you’re talking about.

HAMUUL:  Mylune, we’ve already talked about your trying to block these things out.

MYLUNE:  No no, I’m not blocking it out!  Blocking what out?  See?  Happy face!  Happy face!  Oh, everything’s so wonderful and magical and whee!  And…and…

She looks around quickly and grabs up a small scorpion that’s skittering along the ground.

And ooh, hello Mr. Scorpid, aren’t you a tought little prickly darling!  <hugs the scorpion to her bosom>  Auntie Luney sure is happy to see you!  Yes she is!  Yes she—oww!  OWW!  Dammit, that stings like HELL, you stupid pinchy ASSHOLE!

Mylune throws the scorpion viciously against the wall.

It wasn’t even that cute!

GARROSH:  So… I take it that time in Mulgore wasn’t an isolated incident…?

HAMUUL:  Not as such.

MYLUNE:  Oh…oh no, no, no… I did it again!  <sobbing>  Why do I keep doing that?  <putting her hands over her face as the sobbing continues>

HAMUUL:  There there…

BEN-LIN:  It is all right.  You are among friends now.

GARROSH:  Well let’s not get carried away.

MYLUNE:  <rubbing one hand on her chest>  That still kind of stings a little, actually…

BEN-LIN:  We are here to help you.  Have you had other moments like this recently?

MYLUNE:  I…well…I was in Winterspring a few days ago…and there were these bunnies…and…and…

GARROSH:  Not so much with the bunnies anymore, I’m guessing.

MYLUNE:  I couldn’t help it!  I just wanted to pet them, and…  <rubs her chest again>  Okay, you know what?  I think that scorpion might have been venomous.

Hamuul sighs and starts casting healing spells on Mylune.

HAMUUL:  Seriously?  You have venomous scorpions just wandering around?

GARROSH:  Hey, I don’t usually figure people are going to go around rubbing them on their boobs.

MOKVAR:  Did you really have to give me that mental image?

GARROSH:  I mean we usually don’t have people around here showing that level of stupid.  And that’s even figuring how much time Dontrag and Utvoch spend here.

LOR’THEMAR:  Who?

GARROSH:  You’re better off not knowing.

LIADRIN:  Really, sir.

BEN-LIN:  Perhaps we should move on.  <turns to Lor’themar>  Let us turn to you now.  You are…?

LOR’THEMAR:  Ugh.  See?  SEE?  THIS is EXACTLY what I’m talking about!  I introduced myself to you not TEN MINUTES AGO!  But does anyone remember something like that?  NO!  OF COURSE NOT!

LIADRIN:  Sir, I think she was just asking you to—

LOR’THEMAR:  Don’t defend her, Liadrin!  People do this every damn day, and there’s always some excuse for them!  Either that, or it’s just “Oh, okay.  Lor’themar?  Whatever.”  YES, whatever.  It’s LOR’THEMAR!  LOR’THEMAR FUCKING THERON, Regent-Lord of Quel’Thalas!  That’s who I am!  Lor’themar!  Do you hear me?  All of you?  LOR’THE-FUCKING-MAR!  One of the only racial leaders on either side who hasn’t managed to make a complete cluster fuck of something yet, but does anyone remember?  NO!  NO THEY DON’T!

BEN-LIN:  Well then.  I was going to ask you why you are here, but I think you have already answered that.  So let us move on.  <turns to Garrosh>  And you, sir?

GARROSH:  Huh?  Oh, yeah.  <waves half-heartedly>  So yeah, Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde.  Son of Grom, slayer of Alliance, writer of EPIC VERSE, eater of lemon squares, yadda yadda.

HAMUUL:  Wait, he writes poetry?

MOKVAR:  He’s actually surprisingly good at it.

BEN-LIN:  And why have you come here today, my friend?

GARROSH:  Humoring the orphan matron, pretty much.  Didn’t we already cover this?  She basically said I needed to attend this thing before she would sign off on this orphan I was looking into maybe adopting.

LIADRIN:  Wait, what?

EITRIGG:  Adopting?

HAMUUL:  Oh spirits help us…

GARROSH:  WHY does everybody fucking react like that every time I mention this?  I talked about it on my blog, too, and all the commenters were like “Holy crap no!”

HAMUUL:  Wait, he blogs, too?

FARANELL:  <munching>  I so should have brought some ale for this.

Tirion passes Faranell a flask.

Oh, hey, thanks.

EITRIGG:  I thought we’d agreed you were going to hold off on the…  <makes a drinking motion with his hand>  …while we were here for the meeting.

TIRION:  Surely, friend Eitrigg, you would not deny me a simple bracing beverage before an undertaking that calls upon my resolve.

EITRIGG:  Now we both know the “liquid courage” excuse doesn’t hold here, Tirion.

GARROSH:  So hold up, you mean Highlord Paragraph here likes to retreat into the bottle, and goes all angry drunk and shit?

EITRIGG:  And sometimes ends up burning small animals as a result…

MYLUNE:  He WHAT?!

TIRION:  My fine and noble friend, I would remind you that the episode with the penguins was, in broad, strokes, an isolated incident, and—

MYLUNE:  Penguins?!

BEN-LIN:  Now you see, here we may have a fine instructive moment.  While we may all have our moments of anger, it is when we allow that anger to manifest in actions that we risk unleashing the worst upon the loved ones around us…

MYLUNE:  <fidgeting nervously and looking to Hamuul>  Pen…penguins!  What did he do to the penguins…?!

EITRIGG:  Suffice to say it involved a cane.

BEN-LIN:  And so, when you experience these moments, Tirion, you must remember to use your words.

GARROSH:  Wait, seriously?

TIRION:  Sage counsel indeed, good Lady Cloudstrider, and perhaps you are right, and I have been far too reticent…

GARROSH:  Fucking hell, do you realize what you’re DOING, lady?

MYLUNE:  He…he…he attacked the poor penguins with a cane?

EITRIGG:  Far better than the kittens got…

TIRION:  My dear Eitrigg, you know perfectly well that I take little pride in the unfortunate incident involving the, shall we say, premature feline incendiaries, and—

MYLUNE:  Incendi— you burned kittens?!

GARROSH:  Yeah, bet you’re glad we don’t have any here now, aren’t you?  Not safe to have them around Captain Shortfuse Longwind here.

MYLUNE:  <trembling with eyes growing large and dewy>  Hamuul, did you hear that?  He…he…the kittens…he…

Hamuul pulls a teddy bear out of his pack and dangles it in front of Mylune, who immediately snatches it up.

Oh oh oh what a cute cuddly fuzzy huggy tebby bear squee!

LOR’THEMAR:  Wow she’s unstable…

GARROSH:  Look in a mirror lately, blondie?  Who are you to judge?

LOR’THEMAR:  <jumping up and knocking his chair over>  Who am I?  WHO AM I?  LOR’THEMAR THERON, that’s who!  LOR’THE-FUCKING-MAR THERON!

LIADRIN:  Sir, really, you should try to—

LOR’THEMAR:  You stay out of this, Liadrin!  I’ve HAD IT with this walking jaw with a gym card acting like he doesn’t fucking KNOW me!

GARROSH:  I know you’ll snap in half nice and easy if you don’t figure out a way to ZIP it right quick, Hair-Care!

MYLUNE:  <swaying from side to side while hugging the tebby bear>  Oh don’t listen to them, Mr. Huggles, it’s okay, it’s okay!  You just be all sweet and snuggly and don’t worry about the mean people!

LOR’THEMAR:  Why don’t you MAKE me zip it!  Or do you need damn BOMB to drop on me for that?!

GARROSH:  I’ll SHOW you a fucking BOMB, Ponytail!

Garrosh lunges at Lor’themar and flings him violently against the wall.  Lor’themar pulls himself up and tries to rush back at Garrosh, only to have Garrosh grab him and put him in a headlock.  Mokvar and Liadrin pull at Garrosh’s arm to try to loosen his grip.

MOKVAR:  Really, boss, not helping your own cause here…

GARROSH:  Hope you weren’t too fond of that frigging OXYGEN, Lor’the-Whatever-the-Fuck-Your-Name-Is!

LOR’THEMAR:  <wrenching himself out of Garrosh’s hold and swinging at him wildly>  LOR’THEMAR!  MY NAME IS LOR’THEMAR!  SAY IT!  SAY IT!  SAY MY NAME, BITCH!

Mylune is still rocking back and forth, holding the tebby bear while trembling.

MYLUNE:  Now now don’t you let them upset you, Mr. Huggles…  <absently rips off one of the teddy bear’s ears>  It’s okay…it’s all okay… They’re not mad at you, no no, they’re not…  <rips off the bear’s other ear, sobbing>  It’s all going to be okay someday, I promise, Huggles, Auntie Luney promises…!

FARANELL:  <mouth half-full of popcorn>  I love this meeting so much I want to marry it and have a family of little caucuses.

LOR’THEMAR:  I’m SICK AND TIRED of being IGNORED by this damn GORILLA!

Mokvar and Liadrin try with mixed success to pull the two away from each other.

GARROSH:  Don’t worry, metro, you’ll be getting PLENTY of attention while I’m smearing you all over the floor!

LOR’THEMAR:  Stop holding him back!  I’m not scared of him!  I can take him!  Unless maybe he’s POISONED his DAMN AXE again!

GARROSH:  OH you will DIE EXTRA SLOW for—

Tirion jumps Garrosh and Lor’themar and pushes them away from each other.  He looks back and forth sternly.

TIRION:  Gentlemen, please!  Surely no one can benefit from our turning on each other in such a way.  Now then…  <looks back and forth between Garrosh and Lor’themar again>  Let’s have a drink.  And calm down.

EITRIGG:  <sighs>  Tirion…

BEN-LIN:  It occurs to me that perhaps our goals would be better served by a few one-on-one sessions before we attempt to discuss our issues in a group…

Mylune suddenly grabs Ben-Lin from behind and hugs her back against herself.

MYLUNE:  Ohhhh has anyone ever told you you’re like a big giant warm fuzzy snuggly teddy bear yourself, Miss Cloudy-bear?

BEN-LIN:  <looking around somewhat panicked, but cearly trying to maintain her composure>  So…with that in mind…let us adjourn for the day.  I will be in touch with each of you to arrange individual meetings.  We…we have much work to do…

LIADRIN:  Come on, sir, let’s just go back to Silvermoon…

Liadrin drags Lor’themar out of the room.  The others begin to make their way out as well, except for Mylune, who continues hugging Ben-Lin.

MYLUNE:  So huggly and cuddly and so so adorable!  I could just squeeze you all day, little bear!

Faranell gets up and walks over to Ben-Lin and Mylune on his way toward the door.

FARANELL:  So, I’m going to give you my contact info… Please, please tell me if there are any more of these meetings.  I will buy a ticket if I need to.

 

This has got to be some kind of a hazing thing.  Or Battlewail is doing some kind of weird trial to test my resolve, to see just how serious I am about the Gurtash thing.

Gotta tell you, though, if I have to go hang out with that crew again, I’m not sure I like even that kid enough…

More soon.

 

 

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

Monday mailbag

It’s been a while since the last mailbag, so while I’ve got a break in the action, let’s see what’s piled up the last few weeks…

 

Dear Warchief,

Since Faranell has effectively retired from the Royal Apothecary Society, I’m wondering if Sylvanas is taking applications for a new Master Apothecary?  I’m a veteran alchemist who’s been at the craft for several years.  I even worked out a formula to turn myself into a dragon – rar!  Any chance you could put in a good word for me?

–Karelien, Silvermoon City

Sorry to tell you, Karelien, the master apothecary job is already filled.  Once it got decided that Faranell was being moved over to Hearthglen, Sylvanas went ahead and did a promotion from within, and appointed Apothecary Zinge to take over as head of the RAS.  If you want, I could maybe see about getting you into some kind of entry-level position over there.  Not what you were shooting for, I know, but you have to start somewhere.  I get the sense that Sylvanas doesn’t do a lot of hiring from the outside, so if you want to have any shot at all at the higher positions, you probably need to already be on the ladder.

If you do land a job over there, by the way, could I maybe ask you to keep an eye on Overseer Kraggosh, and just try to discourage him from packing away so many cheesy steak melts?  I’m all for steak, but I swear the Undercity’s got rivers of viscous slime that have a smoother flow to them than that dude’s arteries.

 

Hey mon,

Do you know where Mankrik’s wife be at?

–Bob, Echo Isles

Oh, geez, this guy again.

I already addressed this one like a zillion times last year, when I was making an inspection stop in the Barrens.  Where – just to recap – somebody was asking about Mankrik’s wife like every five minutes.  Over and over.  Fuck, people are annoying.

Here’s where the joke’s on you, though, Bobby-Boy.  Back THEN, I might have taken the bait and started ranting at you about his wife having a memorial and all that shit.  NOW, though, you ask me where Mankrik’s wife is, and you know what?  You’re gonna have to specify WHICH ONE.  That’s right, over the last year or so, our boy Mankrik has managed to calm down a little (and holy shit did he need it), courtesy of a whole bunch of consoling and support from this Earthen Ring shaman named Mahka.  The two of them wound up growing pretty close, and a few months ago, they decided to make it official and held a quiet life-mate ceremony in Mulgore.  If you’re wondering why you didn’t hear about this, well, let’s face it, Thrall’s wedding pretty much pushed everybody else’s deal to the back pages.  Self-Important Green Savior Finally Gets Some, stop the presses.  Whatever.

Oh, and for the record, the first Mrs. Mankrik?  Still dead.  Let’s hope things stay that way (you never know about that shit these days), or things might get kind of awkward.

 

Hey Warchief,

So, crossbow to your head, what do you think – Mylune or Garona?  You know what I’m askin.

–Backstab Bladeflurry

Okay, so before I answer your question, Backstab, I have to ask.  That’s your name?  Seriously?  Backstab Bladeflurry?  I mean, I KNOW that can’t be your ACTUAL name, because I don’t think ANYONE could hate their kid that much.  But you know, the thought that you made up a name for yourself, and that’s the one you came up with…that might actually be even sadder.  Seriously, dude, how old are you?  Because that sounds like the kind of name you would get if you let a 10-year-old name himself, assuming “Videogame K. Dinosaur” was already taken.

Also, I’m guessing you’re…what…a rogue?  Gonna stick my neck WAY out there.  Come on, man, if you’re going to make up a name for yourself, it’s bad enough you’re making it a stupid-sounding name.  But a stupid-sounding name that’s just a list or your class abilities?  Come on.  Do you think people would take me seriously if I went around introducing myself as Overpower Heroicstrike?  Or maybe Saurfang could start calling himself Cleave McCleaveyouagain?  (To be fair, he might possibly be able to carry that off.)  Or, hey, Liadrin is a paladin, maybe she should start calling herself Holy Divine Light Shield Shock Hammer Flash Righteous Hand.  Really, the only time that kind of a name even kind of worked was with Rend Blackhand, and look how great things wound up going for him.

Anyway, I just had to get that out of my system.  Now for your question.

No.

 

Dear Warchief,

I’m writing to ask if you have any idea why people keep trying to kill me.  I’m generally a fairly peaceful fellow, but random strangers keep coming into the inn where I’m just trying to have a drink and attacking me.  I don’t want to hurt anyone, but they’re not leaving me any choice but to defend myself.  But I don’t understand why they keep doing it.

–Gamon, Orgrimmar

Yeah, Gamon, I’ve heard the ruckus over there a few times, what with you having to lay the smackdown on some noobs every once in a while.  Gotta be honest, this one has me stumped.  I can’t think of any reason people might have for coming after you, you’ve always seemed like a pretty good dude to me.  Maybe… I know it’s kind of the pat to-go answer for people going all violent and hostile, but I don’t know, like…the Old Gods?  Maybe?  Dunno.

Good luck not dying, though.

 

Dear Warchief Hellscream:

I am writing to you on behalf of His Lordship, the honorable Tirion Fordring.  In the interests of saving time and paper, I have volunteered to write this note to you in the Highlord’s stead.

The Highlord appreciates the faith you demonstrated in entrusting him with the supervision of Dr. Edwin Faranell.  In that same spirit of good faith, the Highlord wishes to make you aware of certain oddities that have recently occurred involving the doctor.

The good doctor has generally been adjusting well to his new life here in Hearthglen, but the past several days he has experienced momentary bouts of disorientation, in which he has become briefly confused as to what is going on around him.  Following these episodes, he has claimed to have experienced what would seem to be a kind of hallucination: seeing and hearing events transpiring around him that clearly did not occur.

The Highlord suspects that the doctor is suffering from some sort of mental distress as a result of the radical change his life has undertaken.  Lord Fordring is quite concerned about Dr. Faranell’s well-being, and would welcome the opportunity to discuss this turn of events with you further.  We have faith that we may yet guide the doctor to a successful acclimation to his current time and place.

–Daria L’Rayne, Argent Crusade

Oh crap, here we go.  I’d hoped that Faranell would be able to settle in without any problems, but I guess that was wishful thinking.  I can’t say I’m really surprised that he’s kind of shellshocked by the whole thing – I mean, if YOU woke up one morning and all of a sudden it was years later, and half the people you used to know were dead, and the other half were zombies, and whole dominions had risen and fallen, and spirits know how many other things had gone down, yeah, you’d probably have a hard time just walking that off, too.  I know I would probably shit a brick.

So, I guess I’m going to need to take a trip over to Eastern Kingdoms again to go see Tirion.  I wonder if there’s any way I could get this Daria chick to hold the info session rather than Tirion, though – she seems like she would probably be a lot less painful to talk to, not least of all because I’m pretty sure this letter would have filled up about 37 pages minimum if it were Tirion writing it.  Damn good thing he’s got a logging camp right nearby, considering all the paper he probably goes through, is all I’m gonna say.

So, yeah, I’ll have to see about getting that trip lined up.  That said, though, seriously, I was just OVER in Eastern Kingdoms like two days ago.  Would it really KILL people to time these crises so that I don’t have to go zig-zagging all over the map?  So fucking inconsiderate.

 

That’s all for this week.  I’m going to try to be a little more consistent about posting mailbags, so keep those letters and questions coming – first because it’s always good to hear from my loyal readers and minions, second because I’m always happy (well, usually happy…well, sometimes happy…okay, okay, occasionally it doesn’t totally piss me off) to answer your questions, and third because YOUR WARCHIEF DEMANDS IT.  Send those letters to me at garrosh1337@gmail.com, and I’ll do another roundup in a couple weeks.