Monday mailbag

Time to dip back into the ol’ mailbag. Let’s see what we’ve got this time around…

 

Hail, Warchief,

Firstly, I thank you for accepting Grimjaw into the Kor’kron fold, and hope he will serve you well; secondly, my apologies for the depressive content of my letters – it was not my intention to “bring the room down”.

Instead, I will share some good news with you: my son has taken to training as a warrior and will be ready to take his Om’riggor – his rite of passage – next year, and my daughter has taken to learning the shamanic arts. I have high hopes for both of them.

Also, there’s something I think you should hear, Warchief. Another of my wolves – Golmash, I call him, after your grandfather, whose legend is known even to me – has a black pelt and a set of eerie green eyes. And I don’t mean in the dark, slimy green of a swamp so much as a strange, otherworldly glare. I didn’t think anything of it the first time I noticed, but since then I’ve been feeling strangely ill-at-ease whenever he looks at me. I did some research into the nature of these eyes and what I’ve found… is both confusing and disturbing.

On one hand, the eye colour is not unique or unnatural (so far as anyone can tell); on the other hand, only one particular wolf dynasty has ever had them, and rarely so. This dynasty, dubbed “moonwolf”, lived in Shadowmoon Valley until the arrival of the Legion and the corruption of the land that ensued, and the last known scion of this lineage was Skychaser, the companion of Ner’zhul. The fate of the fallen Great Shaman is well-known, but no one knows what happened to his wolf.

I have never had any encounter with that particular lineage, and so far as I can tell, Golmash is strictly of Frostwolf and Nagrandeur descent; thus, the cause of his haunting eyes remains a mystery. How should I proceed from here, Warchief? I am loathe to create a problem where there is none, but something in my gut tells me sinister things are afoot.

Yours faithfully,

–Ogunaro Wolfrunner, Kennel Master

Hey again, Ogunaro. Grimjaw’s gotten settled in over at the Kor’kron stables. I’ve been over to have a look at him, and he IS a pretty fine looking wolf. Like I mentioned last time, I’ve got something in mind for him, but it’s going to be a little bit before I get that going. The timing is kind of up in the air for the time being, but hopefully things will fall into place soon. I’ll keep you updated as things go.

As for this mystery wolf of yours (appreciate the shout-out to Golmash, by the way… well, unless it turns out there’s something seriously fishy going on with him, in which case, gee, thanks for dragging my grandfather into it)… that does sound pretty weird. I can’t say I’ve run into any glowy green-eyed wolves myself, and I’ve ridden more than my share over the years. Still, I don’t want to start running around cooking up crazy stories and conspiracy theories, especially when you sound like you’ve got a good sense of the line this wolf came from. So for right now, what I’d recommend is keeping a close watch on him and maybe keep him apart from your other wolves when you’re not able to monitor them. Is there anything strange about his behavior? How does he get along with the other wolves? Or with you, for that matter? Anything you’ve noticed about him that’s different from most wolves, OTHER than the green eyes?

This is definitely worth monitoring, but I don’t want to start panicking straight away. The Ner’zhul connection is creepy as fuck, but I also don’t put a lot of stock in ghost stories. Unless the ghost in question is one of those bankers down at the Undercity, because funny enough, those dudes actually DO come up with some pretty good stock tips. FYI.

Grats on your kids coming along with their training, by the way. Are they working with anyone in the military trainee program, or has it been individual class training so far? I’ve got a bunch of trainees studying under me, but then you probably already knew that if you read the blog. Your son’s coming up on his om’riggor next year, huh? He must be pretty advanced at this point, in that case. I’m hoping some of mine will be ready for the rite before too long, but right now that’s pretty dependent on…well, a bunch of things. No need to belabor ’em with you. I’m sure you know the drill. Next year would be pretty nice, though.

Anyway, I’ll keep you posted on what’s up with Grimjaw. And the other wolf thing.

 

Well well, Hellscream,

It seems serendipity brought me and your little “trainee” together. But I’ll elaborate on that in a moment. First, let me tell you that Boulderfist purchased our computer equipment from a rather enterprising goblin shaman and obtained our Internet as spoils of war from the Shadow Council. How they can be smart enough to create working Internet here on Outland and yet foolish enough to serve the Burning Legion is beyond me, but then there it is. Now about your trainee…

I was naturally curious when several of my ogres came wandering up the hill to me complaining about an outbreak of headaches. As it happens, they had incurred these headaches from being repeatedly smashed in the face (and other places) with a shield by an eager, cheerful little orc girl with a potbelly worthy of a ogre woman (few of them that there are). How fortunate that she isn’t as good at killing ogres as she thinks; I settled for reproaching my men for being stupid enough to let a orcling child knock the stuffing out of them. Some claim the ordeal has left them dumber – but frankly, dear Hellscream, I doubt that very much, and if it has, it hasn’t made that much difference.

At any rate, even allowing for the fact that she didn’t know about our truce, as I discovered when I caught her lurking around the Laughing Skull Ruins watching that brute of a shaman Mogor pounding a group of fledgling Alliance “heroes” into the ground and confronted her, there is a certain principle about truces that has to be upheld – namely, the principle that you don’t attack the people you have a truce with. So when I learned of this Jorin Blackeye or whatever his name was continuing to send adventurers after my ogres, I decided a response was called-for.

We lured him out of Garadar under the pretense of discussing a peace settlement concerning the village of Halaa with the Kurenai Broken, and there I confronted him about his actions. I had hoped to settle things in a reasonable way, but not only did he spout some nonsense about “no forgiveness” and whatnot, he took the time to pass comment about my Burning Blade heritage before he started to walk away. After that… well, it’s very embarassing. He sort of walked right into my blade. Face-first, no less. And my blade brushed against his one good eye. All completely by accident. How very careless of the both of us.

Anyway, given that he was using that eye for no-good purposes, perhaps it is an acceptable casualty. I hear he has not dared show his face in public since then – with an injury like that, I know I wouldn’t – and that his clan are electing a new leader. Hopefully they’ll be more understanding from now on.

By the way, speaking of Mogor, the brute and I have reached an accord: a permanent end to the fighting between our clans and the merging of Boulderfist and Warmaul into a single clan, as it was long ago, under the name Burning Skull (somehow, Laughing Blade just doesn’t have the same ring to it). We’re interested in signing on with your Horde – I admit, I’m curious about meeting another of my own kind, even if she is very different from me, and the contribution I can offer you seems like a fitting gesture.

Mogor has portalled us to a small goblin harbour in the Barrens. We’ll be in Grommash Hold soon to discuss terms.

–Lantresor of the Blade

Okay, you know what? Not going to lie. Not a whole lot registered other than the part about Jorin getting a little what-for. In the face. Jorin Blackeye indeed. Heh. HeheheHAH. HAHAHAHA. Such a dick.

So wait, did you actually get his eye, or JUST graze him, or what? I get that you did some damage, but eyes are tricky territory, and even a little extra flick of the blade one way or the other could… hmm… you know, come to think of it, probably best not to dwell on it. I’ll probably end up hearing through channels soon enough.

So speaking of trainees, you realize that when Mirembe sees your letter, of all the stuff you brought up, all she’s going to notice is the “potbelly” part, right? I can almost hear the letter landing in my inbox now.

Also, eesh, surprise guests. I better have Marogg whip up some food to greet these people with when they get here. I wonder if he still has any of that Darkspear rice sitting around for his jambalaya. Pretty tasty stuff, actually, as long as the rice wasn’t sitting around trollville for too long, in which case you end up getting this weird dizzy feeling if you eat too much of it.

 

Hey, uh, Boss?

I was perusing this here blog and I noticed the letter you got from Lantresor. Now, readin’ between the lines here I gotta say… it sounds like that is one lonely half-orc-half-draenei dude lookin’ to get all buddy-buddy with the father of the — *looks around nervously and makes a circuit of the room listening for stealthy swoosh sounds* — youngest and most attractive of the only two lady half-orc-half-draenei girls in the world. Which makes me question his motivations, if you hear what I’m sayin’ and know what I mean.

Not that Shayari can’t handle herself or deal with unwanted attention, but… I’m just sayin’…

Also, not for nothin’, but I hear that Lantresor is a huge complainer. An acquaintance of mine worked with him for a while, and all he ever did was whine, whine, whine. “How long are we going to stay here?” And, “I miss the grassy plains of Nagrand!” Oh boo hoo hoo! Drove everyone else bonkers.

Have a good one!

–Khizzara.

Oh, PS: I dropped a buncha flowers off for Gurtash. Wish I could do something more, but as a mage I’d probably only make things worse. And as a goblin, I might uh, make him explode. Kinda counterproductive for the healin’.

Yeah, that Lantresor guy is…

Hang on.

…

<thinks>

…

Oh FUCKING HELL, SERIOUSLY?

I… he… you mean… HOW THE FUCK OLD IS THAT GUY, ANYWAY?

I’m… suddenly feeling a strange craving for dead ogres.

Wait, that would mean giving Jorin the satisfaction. And not for anything, but I refuse to live in a universe where Jorin Blackeye—erm, I mean Deadeye… is validated.

And yet.

Fuck. Rock and a hard place.

HANG ON HANG ON HE’S ON HIS WAY HERE TOO, LIKE SOON AND SHIT.

Dammit. If he’s out cruising for half-orc, half-draenei action… maybe I can pull a bait-and-switch on him? I wonder if Garona’s doing anything this week. I could invite her to attend whatever reception I end up stuck holding for these people and really lay it on thick about how much I’d like her to be there and OH SHIT NEVER MIND THAT’S JUST GOING TO GIVE HER IDEAS.

Fucking hell, this parenting shit isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. UGH.

 

Dear Warchief:

I apologize for disturbing you, when as your loyal subject it should be my duty to relieve your stresses, not add to them, but I have a delicate question for you. (by the way, could you please appoint us Blood Elves a Regent? I got a rude note from someone calling himself “Bob” saying you had named a Lord Invincible to the post, but I’ve never seen him . . . ?)

Anyhow, I . . . met a girl. Cat. Woman. Druid. Ummm, she’s really really beautiful, and she loves it when I pet her, and she purrs when we take naps in the sunlight, and we love to just stare into each others’ eyes when she’s a cat. Not a small cat, a big black panther. But anyways, I met her as part of trying to research help for my . . . not quite alive condition. She’s with the Cenarion Circle, and I guess they had a grudge against orcs for killing Cenarius, only he’s not dead anymore so that’s ok, I hope. We started spending time together, and slaughtering murlocs, and I found out that when we’re together I can feel my heart beating again. Umm . . . is it ok that she’s a Night Elf? We stay at her cave in Moonglade when I’m not on assignment, so she won’t disturb any members of the Horde.

Hopefully,

–Sintra E’Drien of Silvermoon.

Ps. Shouldn’t Loktar Ogar mean something more like “My Victory, Their Death!”?

I… Hang on, when did this mailbag turn into the fucking Dating Game?

So hold it, Sintra, are you seriously asking me to sign off on you shacking up with a freaking NIGHT ELF? I mean, I already had ENOUGH of a headache just recently dealing with Mokvar’s human chick, and as far as I can gather SHE’S at least his EX-wife, as opposed to whatever the fuck you have going on that’s just in the early magical bloom of insert-your-greeting-card-bullshit-romantic-cliche-here.

And so, on top of the night elf part, she’s a druid, and from the sound of it you spend most of your time together with her in cat form? And you’re still technically dead… and… I don’t even KNOW what the fuck that is, like now you’re just doing the backstroke around a giant cocktail glass loaded up with some spiritsforsaken concoction of bestiality and (reverse?) necrophilia and disloyalty and furry and OMG. I mean the only part of that whole damn part of it that I can sign off on is the whole “slaughtering murlocs” thing, because let’s face it, who’s not down for good wholesome murloc slaughter? Other than the murlocs, I suppose. But who knows, maybe not. I know if I were a murloc, I would fucking hate me.

Hang on, though.

Jog my memory here, Sintra… aren’t you a blood elf chick? Because if so, and she’s… that might…

<thinks>

No. No. Never mind. Sticking with the dead-murloc-lone-highlight position. The end. Turn the page. Ahem.

I’ll be in my bunk.

 

[Keep those letter coming! Send e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the form below. Next mailbag July 6!]

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Monday mailbag

Just got back to Orgrimmar a little while ago.  I checked in with the shamans over in the Valley of Wisdom about Gurtash.  They’re still working on him, and it doesn’t look like they’re going to have anything solid to say for a while yet.  All we really know right now is that that spectral minion got him good…the fucker managed to get a good rip in on the kid in exactly the wrong areas, the head and chest.  They made it sound like they’re not going to able to say much for sure for a while still, so apparently I’m just going to have to kill time till then.  So, I guess this is as good a time as any to clear out some more of this mail backlog.

So… the last mailbag made an impression for sure, what with it including a letter from some goblin guy that ran on for so long that I’m fairly sure I still won’t finish reading it until sometime next Tuesday.  With that in mind…

Dat quite da letter, Grottee Metalbeard.  I’d recommend splittin’ it into more paragraphs next time, though.  Ol’ Garry — *quickly scratches out the former and substitutes in “Warchief” — can only handle so much.

–Alayea

P.S. Though Fordring say he speechless, he sure ain’t one ta talk. =P

Oh, Fordring is one to talk, Alayea.  To talk, and talk, and talk, and oh, by the way, did I mention talk?  But yeah…that was a letter and a half last time.  Actually, it was more like 6.2 letters.  Maybe more.  No less, though.  You’d be amazed what a difference even a tenth of a letter makes.  6.1 would contain surprisingly little content.

Eheheh, sorry about all that Warchief.  I was on a Kaja’cola binge when I wrote my letter.

Anyway, I’ll drop Blackfuse a line to let him know you’re interested.  Protip: The key to keeping his attention is to keep mentioning money.

–Grotte Metalbeard

Oh, and check it out, look who’s back.  So…how much Kaja’cola did you choke down before you wrote that letter?  Is there any left?  Anywhere?  Or is that shit just really potent?  I can’t say I’ve ever tried the stuff, so I’m not really in much position to say.  Sounds like it has the same kind of effect as that kafa stuff from Pandaria that Ruekie’s always drinking.  Man, you should see her with a couple cups of that stuff in her.  Haste buff like you wouldn’t believe.  I’m at least 50% sure one more cup would shave all her spells down to instant cast.

Anyway, yeah, feel free to contact that Blackfuse dude for me.  Might be a good idea for you let me know where I can reach him so I can see about making contact directly, too.  Is he over in the goblin part of town in Orgrimmar, or up in Azshara, or doing business somewhere else?  Either way, yeah, I kind of figured the way to his heart was through his wallet.  I mean, come on, he’s a goblin.  I know how you guys are wired.

Oh, and before all you crybabies get your panties in a bunch about me saying that, because racist this and stereotype that and boo hoo hoo, I give you Exhibit A:

Yo Big G,

Got another question for ya!  What’s the big deal with my fellow Horde members shirking their duty in Alterac Valley?  Are the Frostwolves really a bunch of pansies now that Big T went all hippy peace and love, or are they just scared of the beards on them Stormpikes?  If it’s the beards, I totally got an answer for that!

You see my company, Sparkbolt Enterprises, has recently come into some great explosives.  And by great, I mean “how in the burning hells is this stuff still legal?!”  We pack it up nice and tight in the best elementium plating we can find (and boy howdy was there a TON of that stuff lying around when Deathwing was killed off), primed and ready to be launched at the face of any Alliance foe you can imagine!  I like to call it the Sparkbolt Facemelter™!  For best results, aim at dwarves or the sissy pandas that went for the Blue and Gold.  It’s like watching an explosive sheep in an oil refinery!  Just watch out for friendly fire and people within range of the discharge explosion.  Also, wear heavy protective armor when setting one of these bad boys off!  My, uh, my cousin Vinny didn’t and his face literally got melted.  Makes the family reunions awkward, I can tell ya that much.  10,000 gold will get ya 100 quality Facemelters, primed and ready to roll! (shipping and handling is an extra 5,000.  We disavow any responsibility, legal, moral, or otherwise, for misuse or improper storage of our products.)

*attached is a handy order form and catalogue for other Sparkbolt products*

Pleasure doing business with ya,

–Glessee “Glitch” Sparkbolt, Founder and CEO of Sparkbolt Enterprises

Yeah.  So.  Thanks?

But okay…I want to make sure I’m following this correctly, because listen, if there’s one guy you DON’T have to sell on the idea of blowing up Allies, it’s me.  Like it’s really, REALLY me.  So… you’re trying to sell me explosives that you have to armor yourself to the teeth just to use, and still stay out of the range…hang on, what IS the “range of the discharge explosion”?  Like how far away from this thing do you have to BE?  Because you’re making it sound pretty damn huge, which would mean that it would be nearly impossible even to USE the damn thing without being taken out by it.  Which means the only way I could even put these things into action would be to use my own people as living cannon fodder, and send them out there armed with these things to blow up targets knowing full well they’re gonna get melted themselves.  Which sounds like it’s straight out of Psychotic War of Attrition 101.

So what I’m telling you is, I’ll go as high as 8000 for the pack of 100, shipped, but you’re not getting a copper more than that.

Fucking price-gouging goblins.

Heya warchief,

Being a big fan of your poetic skills, I just have to say,

There once was a goblin from Ratchet.

Go!

–Whizzy Greaseknuckle, from a neutral coastal town that may or may not be in the Northern Barrens

The fuck is up with all the goblins this time around?  Is there some kind of coupon going around online for a “free with proof of your letter to Garrosh” deal or some shit?

Anyhow, though, you know what?  You’re on.

There once was a goblin from Ratchet
Whose wits weren’t as sharp as a hatchet.
She launched a Facemelter™,
Ducked in her bomb shelter,
But, sadly, neglected to latch it.

EPIC VERSE!

Hello, Hellscream,

I am Lantresor of the Blade.  Perhaps you do not remember me, though I do remember you.  If you do remember me, it’s probably about how my clan, the Boulderfist ogres, attacked the village of your friend Jorin Deadeye – which they did, but the peace settlement I made with you should make that square.

At any rate, I’m writing in from the Burning Blade Ruins because I noticed you have a daughter – Shayari, was it? – who is half-orc and half-draenei.  That makes at least three of us in this world, I see – her, Garona Halforcen and myself.  I am the inversion of your daughter, physically our unique my body is that of an orc with draenei traits; notably, I am taller than an average orc, my shoulders are broader and my skin is an off-blue colour.

I sympathise with her experiences – they are not unlike those of my own. My father was a draenei scout, my mother an orc of the Burning Blade Clan.  Sadly, the blood war between my parents’ people came when I was young.  My mother raised me alone as best she could, my father being too dead to help, but in the end, I am half-orc and half-draenei – because of which, in the end I would be seen as neither.

I had barely completed my rite of passage when my enemies in the clan had me cast out shortly after they came to power.  My father’s people, as you can imagine, could not bare to look upon me, for I was a reflection of their death.  I was fortunate enough to still find a place in the Horde, where I would serve under the banner of two warchiefs.  Now, though, I bow to no one.  Instead, I am a ruler.  A ruler of ogres.

Most of our kind were wiped out decades ago, though who was most responsible I do not know.  I do know, however, that most would live their lives as outcasts, labelled and cast aside.  Victims of their heritage.  This world is no good to those of us who are half- anything. We stand forever apart; few know us, and fewer still understand us.  For that reason I carry immense respect for Rexxar and his kind, the Mok’Nathal.  They have lived as outcasts even longer than I have, yet they remain strong, if insular and distrusftul.

I write this letter not seeking your pity, but as a gesture to your daughter.  The things she and I have been forced to learn, the things we have endured and suffered, the rejection, the shame… they are things only the children of orcs and draenei can know.  If she has lived this long, it is a testament to her strength and independence; not all such children had it in them to take on the challenges and struggles our unique heritage presents.  I, for one, applaud her, inasmuch as that means anything to either of you.

As an addendum, tell your daughter the next time you see her that she is not alone as a half-orc/draenei.  Tell her that Lantresor of the Blade knows and understands – and finally, that if she ever needs my aid, or that of Boulderfist, she has only to ask.

–Lantresor of the Blade

Huh. Well THAT’S someone I wasn’t expecting to get a letter from.  Not least of all because I wouldn’t have guessed Lantresor read the blog.  Actually, hang on – the ogres out in Nagrand have INTERNET access?  Grizzle Fucking Gearslip can’t set up a wireless network in Domination Point that doesn’t make the computer literally urinate on the desk, but the fucking OGRES on a shattered planet have GOOGLE?  How the hell did THAT happen?!

Anyway.

I do remember you, Lantresor.  Although, not for nothing, but I wouldn’t go do far as calling Jorin my “friend.”  Yeah, we both grew up in Garadar, but he was…well, he was always kind of a dick.  Especially once he got wind of some of the uglier details about Grom, and decided it would be a hoot of a good time to keep reminding me of them at every turn.  So, you know, that whole thing where you rolling his village.  Boo hoo.  Fuck ’im.

Anyhow, thanks for reaching out about Shayari.  I haven’t really thought that much about the whole half-breed thing, but it probably makes sense that she’d do well to have someone she can talk to who’s in the same boat.  And considering the only other option for that would be Garona, well…yeah… I don’t really know you, Lantresor, but I’m pretty sure you’d be the better option.  Seeing as I haven’t seen any overt signs of fucking migraine-inducing crazy from you.  Plus, Garona seems to get all cranky whenever anybody mentioned Shay around her.  Who knows.

As it happens, I think one of my trainees is on track to be around your neck of the woods soon, so if it’s all good by you, I may have her swing by your way to introduce herself.  Think of her as sort of an emissary, entrusted with a crucial matter of cross-cultural diplomacy because…well…she was going to be in the neighborhood anyway.  So if a young orc by the name of Mirembe comes toddling on over, try not to have your ogre buddies step on her.  She’s not as squishy as a lot of kids her age, and more than a little better at shield-slamming, but still, you know, why court trouble?

And speaking of whom…

Lok’tar again Warchief!

I know I’ve been writing in a lot, but it’s better to hear how my training goes here than in some silly report, right?  And since you asked, I’m a Warsong orc too!  My parents were grunts in Grom’s squad during the Third War.  The necklace wasn’t from my first kills, so don’t worry!

I made it to Nagrand at last!  Your Greatmother is awesome!  She welcomed me, sat me down, and gave me a big bowl of clefthoof stew.  I think I might gain weight out here from how often she asks me if I wanna eat something.  If it’s not stew, it’s talbuk steak.  If it’s not taking steak, it’s frenzy fish fry.  She even offered me a sandwich made from leftover clefthoof roast one night after dinner!  I won’t complain, though.  The extra pounds might help me with a problem I’ve been having out here.

I met that Jorin guy.  He seemed pretty crabby about some ogres or something.  I wasn’t paying much attention until he told me to go kill those ogres.  How long has this been going on with him?  Anyway, to get back to my problem, he looks at me in creepy ways.  Like how I’ve seen orcs in Shattrath stare at those draae…drenn…spacegoat girls.  It’s gotten so bad, I stay with Greatmother most of the time now.  What can I do to make him stop? Even threatening to smash his skull with my shield doesn’t work!

Help!

–Mirembe

Hey, Mirembe.  Glad to hear the training is coming along.  Just make sure you watch your portions while you’re out there – Greatmother piles the food on any guests who show up in town, and packing on the extra points isn’t going to do any favors to your dodge rating.  Sure, she’s a nice old lady and everything, but you still need to be able to tell her “no thank you,” and then, when “no thank you” doesn’t even slow her down when she’s ladling out your ninth serving of clefthoof stew, you need to be able to get up from the table and walk away.  And then keep walking, because she will FOLLOW your ass around town trying to get you to eat up, because you’re getting too skinny, and for FUCK’S sake make sure you keep a good pace going so you can stay ahead of her.  She might be an old woman, but she’s fucking SPRY.

As for Jorin, speak of the devil, I was just answering another letter from this guy who…

Hang on.

You’re saying Jorin had you out killing ogres?  Ogres that he was all cranky about?  Like…the ogres who attacked his village back in the day… and who I arranged a TRUCE with way back before I moved to Orgrimmar?  The ogres who are… um… led by…Lantresor of the Blade, who was JUST writing to me and trying to be nice and shit, and who I told I was going to send you to as a kind of emissary, only that was before I knew you were running around killing his fucking people, because evidently, according to Jorin, having a cease-fire in place for like five years is no reason not to send unsuspecting noobs (no offense, Mira) to KILL the people we have the cease-fire with because stomp stomp hissy fit? THOSE ogres?

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, JORIN.  I mean, seriously.  Fuck that guy.  Um…not literally, Mirembe.  Not literally.  You don’t want to encourage him.  Like at all.

And speaking of Jorin and his leering… yeah.  He was always kind of a creeper.  Twice the creepy looks with half the eyes.  The best thing to do, really, it probably to try to steer clear of him.  But you want to know the real secret weapon?  Next time you catch Jorin popping his one good peeper at you, high-tail it over to Greatmother and fill her in on what he’s been up to.  Believe me, that old lady doesn’t put up with any crap, and I can tell you from first-hand experience that if he sets her off, she will drop the clefthoof stew in two seconds flat to run over there and serve up a big steaming bowl of Pull Your Head Out of Your Fucking Ass, Jorin.

If THAT doesn’t work…hoo boy.  All I can think of at that point if to remind the fucker that he’s already down to just one good eye, and if he can’t keep THAT eye from ogling where it shouldn’t be, SOMEBODY might have to take that one, too.  Which may or may not give him an updated vision of how he’s going to die.

Maybe THAT’ll finally get through to him.  Because, you know, it’s all fun and games until someone loses and eye, but it’s even BIGGER fun when they lose the other…

Erm…

Never mind.

I’m going to wrap up here.  I’ve got to head over to the Valley of Wisdom and check in.  On a few things.  Keep the letters coming, e-mail to garrosh1337@gmail.com, handy form below, yadda yadda.

More soon.

[Next mailbag: June 1!]

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Monday mailbag

Okay, peeps, time to hack through a little more of this backlog of letters.  Here we go.

 

Dear Warchief,

As an amateur artist myself, I’m always interested in others’ artistic work.  Lately I’ve been taking particular interest in the artistry that went into your tattoos.  I’m curious if they have any special meaning, like certain markings indicating anything specifically.  They look like someone put a lot of effort into the intricate detailing.  And placement.

No, really, that’s why I’ve been staring.  I’m studying.  The tattoos.

Also, speaking of artwork, tell Gurtash to keep up the good work, I’ve been enjoying watching his drawings develop.  Is there any chance that some of his drawings of you might become available as pinups?  I’m just curious.  I’d like to help support a budding young artist, you see.

Innocently yours,

–Tandeleina, Silvermoon City

Uh huh.  Yup.

#TheLadiesLoveGarrosh

But to answer your question, Tandeleina (do you have any nicknames, by the way? not for nothing, but your name is seriously a bitch to type)…  The tattoos are Warsong ceremonial markings, done by Vanteg from back in Nagrand.  I talked about this a little once before, but I guess I never really touched on what the tattoos actually mean.  Because they DO mean things – they’re not just some fancy scribbles that somebody doodled all over me at random and hoped they would look badass.  Well, except when Gurtash draws them, because honestly, he DOES just kind of doodle them all over me, like I can just imagine him spending all day working on one of those sketches of me, and struggling like hell to recreate all that awesome on paper, and then he gets to the end and realizes he still needs to do the tattoos, only at that point he’s all tired and spent from the whole exercise so he’s like “oh fuck it” and scribbles a bunch of vaguely stripey shapes on me.  Because, see, in reality, unlike Gurtash’s drawings, my tattoos are NOT different shapes in different locations every single time you look at me.  Kid’s got a good eye in general, I guess, but apparently getting that much right calls for TWO good eyes.

But I digress.

Anyway, the tattoos fall into two groups, the ones on my back and the ones on my shoulders and arms.  The markings on my arms stand for the major victories and achievements of my family line, with the earliest accomplishments being represented around my shoulders, then working their way toward the present as they continue down my arms.  So as you trace down each arm, you can follow the achievements of my grandfather, Golmash, then Grommash and Lakkara, then me.  They all pretty much look like interchangeable stripes to the untrained eye, but see, there are all these little subtle variations, where the bands get thicker or narrower, where there are little nicks and indentations, where there are curves and where they stay straight… every little detail is symbolic for something.  You’ll also notice, the tattoos only run down to about my elbows.  I had Vanteg do that deliberately, so there’d be room for me to add more tattoos down the rest of my arms as time goes on.  Who knows, now that it turns out I’m not the last of the line, maybe if Shay does something big one day, I can get myself inked up a little more to cover that.

Meanwhile, the tattoos on my back mean something else.  See, the accomplishments of my family go on my arms, because the arms stand for deeds and actions.  The back, on the other hand, stands for the…well, the backbone.  The framework that supports everything else.  So the markings on my back symbolize different qualities that are valued in the Warsong clan or within my family line.  So there’s one marking that means loyalty, and one marking that means prowess in battle, and another marking that means strength of will, and then there’s that one stray marking on the left side of my back that means Vanteg should have known to put the fucking needle down for a minute when he felt the hiccups coming on.  By the by, he’s got a marking of his own now that symbolizes that very same thing, only it’s not made of fucking ink.

So there you go, ladies.  Now you have an excuse to take a good long look next time you see me tooling around Orgrimmar.  It’s not leering, it’s exegesis!  I’ll know the truth, but that can just be our little secret.  You’re welcome.

 

Yo Warchief Hellscream,

Wazzup?  Long time reader, first time writer here.  Anyway, I got a bit of a problem I was hoping you’d take care of for me.  Could you call off your Kor’kron mooks every time I come into the city to sell my goods?  I’m a loyal citizen of the Horde and a skilled engineer, and I haven’t stolen anything I ain’t earned through good and honest–whoa I almost got that out legit there.

Anyway, all I do is sell inferior gnome engineered products to promote how much more AWESOME goblin engineered products are (not to mention that there’s less of a chance of turning into a chicken when you use ’em), but every time, your Kor’kron goons come over and harass me outta my stall!  Since I’m already paying protection to the Tinker’s Guild and the Trade Prince, if I gotta start paying you, I wouldn’t even be breaking even profit-wise!  What’s a girl gotta do to make some semi-honest coin around here?

–Glesse “Glitch” Sparkbolt, Sparkbolt Enterprises

Hey, Glitch, thanks for writing.  What the hell took you so long?  Freaking lazy-ass goblins.  Anyhow.

So let me get the straight.  Your business plan…is to sell stuff that you know going in is crap…so people can SEE that it’s crap…and then not buy it anymore…and then go to someone ELSE who’s selling BETTER stuff and buy from THEM?  So you’re telling them, “Goblin products are awesome – and I’m not selling them!  So you better go give your money to someone who isn’t me”?  That’s your business model?

I’m going to stick my neck way, way out and guess that you don’t exactly have investors lined up around the block to sink money into this operation.

So as far as the Kor’kron go, see, there isn’t any law against selling gnomish products, but if you’re causing a nuisance with your junk, then yeah, they’re going to come over and stop the operation and make sure you don’t give any more people cause to register complaints.

So here’s the question for you: When you were getting “harassed” out of your stall, HAD you just turned a would-be customer into a chicken?  How about a frog?  Did you just make somebody’s mother-in-law seven feet taller?  Did you just give some horny teenager x-ray vision?  (Fucking hell save us if that kind of tech drops into a certain pair of doodle-prone hands I know.)  Did you just go “one two three kablooey” and turn somebody’s hat into a bowl lime sherbet?  Did you give somebody a free trial of a teleportation device only instead of taking them to the Barrens it popped them into a parallel dimension made entirely out of shrimp, only when you pulled them back it split them into two copies of themselves, one with all the good and noble qualities and one with all the evil nasty stuff, but neither of them are strong enough to survive on their own, plus there’s the persistent uncontrollable toxic flatulence?

Because seriously, once you open the can of worms that is gnomish tech, no outcome is too ridiculous to be off the menu.  That’s why, at the end of the day, I DO prefer goblin products.  At least with those, you know they’re only ever going to blow up in your face LITERALLY.

 

Greetings, Warchief,

I finally decided to give Earth Online a try after reading about your adventures there.  It’s a pretty fun game!  I decided to follow in your footsteps and roll a teacher class.  I’m coming up on the end of the university starter zone, and I’ve been doing okay with the student teacher proving grounds, but since I’m about to venture off the safe confines of campus, I was wondering if you had any helpful tips on playing a teacher successfully in the big wide world?

–Gurda Ragescar, Splintertree Post

Thanks for writing, Gurda.  Glad you’re liking the game.  The teacher class is a tricky one, what with all the lesson plan juggling and management of your minions, but it can be pretty fun once you work out how you’re going to do things.  A lot of stuff is going to depend on how you’re specced, like if you’ve got more of a science or orcities (what those Alliance buggers probably call humanities) build, so I don’t want to get too deep into specifics that might not apply to you.  But, I can give you a few things you might want to keep in mind.

First, when you’re dealing with your minions and issuing them commands, you need to spam those keybindings.  Do not – repeat, DO NOT – make the mistake of thinking you can press the button once to tell the brats to do something and then sit back pleased as can be expecting them to go do it.  There is ZERO chance they’re going to do what you tell them until you click on it at least three or four times.  Same thing goes for when you try to up their skills.  You want to boost them up a skill point, you need to hit that train button six or seven times.  It will not take otherwise.  It’ll bounce right off their stubborn little heads.  You might think I’m crazy, but just you watch – try sending them off on a mission, only hit the assignment key once, then come back when the mission is supposed to be done, and watch the blank looks on their faces, like they’re saying, “Oh…did you want me to do something?”

Second, sometimes when you’re dealing with one of your minions, it’ll spawn this older-looking NPC that’ll aggro on you and initiate a parent-teacher conference solo scenario.  Those can be tricky.  You’ve got to improvise on the fly as far as the parent’s mechanics, but basically, you need to wear them down until they stop being hostile and turn friendly.  At that point, they’ll help you reinforce whatever you’re trying to get your minions to do.  Here’s the catch, though: some of the parents will be really easy to get on your side, and some of them will be damn near impossible – like infuriatingly so.  And the funny part is, the easy parents are the ones whose kids were pretty easy for you to handle in the first place, so you probably don’t really NEED help from the parents. But those are the ones that spawn more often.  But the harder parents?  Yeah, they’re tough to deal with, but they’re kind of worth it, because THEIR kids are frigging impossible to handle, so you NEED all the help you can get with them…only those parents almost never spawn.  It’s like they don’t want to be bothered with the little brats, so good luck ever getting them to show for a conference.

When you’re grinding out your paper-grading dailies, DO NOT try to do too many of them in one sitting.  If you try to grind out too many at once, your patience bar will burn out way too quickly and you’ll end up giving D’s to everyone in the bottom half of the pile.

That’s it as far as suggestions.  One fun thing to look out for, though – when you’re going around the world away from your school, keep an eye out for your minions.  It won’t happen often, but every once in a while you’ll randomly run into one of them wandering around the world.  Keep an eye open, and watch them when that happens – they will freak the fuck out, like they’re totally dumbstruck by the fact that you exist out in the regular world.  I just get a kick out of watching them panic and scramble around all confused.  Maybe it’s just me.

 

Yo, what’s up Warchief?

The name’s Grottee Metalbeard. You know, that goblin who came to see you with a letter from your old buddy Thrall. Of course, you probably remember better from when a message with my name on it was sent to your Live Blog a coupla weeks back. Darndest thing: that wasn’t me.

Turns out, my assistant Mindy found my password and logged in a few hundred times when I wasn’t around – after all, a shaman’s work is never done. That little question about the Warsong? Her doing. It’s a good question, but I wasn’t gonna ask it, so she did.

Good news is, I finally know why I’m getting all those meal deal emails. And how my old boss Gallywix somehow found out about my recent fling with an old friend, Sassy Hardwrench, during one of my trips to Stranglethorn. (I knew all those gossip magazines were hiding something from me!)

The bad news is, I’m now in the market for a new assistant. And a new office. Turns out she blew it up with smuggled explosives. That mystery boob job she went on and on about? Bombs smuggled in under the shirt. My fault for not asking for a look I guess. Don’t suppose you know where else I could set up?

Aaaanyway, that ain’t what I’m really writing in about. No, no, what I’m writing in about, is these three words: Blackfuse, elementals, trolls.

What am I talking about? I’ll discuss each topic in brief.

Step 1: Blackfuse. I can tell you’re not exactly worried about the technology of your Horde right about now, seeing as how you’re trying to master the Sha and all that. But you really should be. If what I’ve heard is true, the Alliance is gearing up to take you on. As in, lay siege to Orgrimmar, kill anyone who doesn’t run away/surrender and stick your head on a pike. And I’m not talking about your average bunch of Alliance adventurers going in and taking a shot at you hoping Varian will send them a bear in the mail (how does that work, by the way?) or anything like that. I mean, armies from all over Azeroth baring down on you with their hackles raised. Fortunately for you, I know a guy who’ll crank Orgrimmar’s Engineering skill all the way to the top. His name’s Helix Blackfuse, and he runs a little outfit called Blackfuse company. They’re a rowdy bundle of backstickers and grease-monkeys who build high-tech shredders, giant lasers, the odd drilling machine and yes, a crapload of bombs, then sell ’em to whoever’s got the gold. I’m saying this ’cause while I don’t have enough money to pay him to make me a sandwich, you probably have the gold to tie him to the Horde at the hip. Blackfuse has a weakness for shiny gold worse than the average magpie; you pay him enough, he’ll build you a giant metal scorpid with laser, bombs and buzz-saws coming out the wazoo. I figure that should be a step in the right direction.

Step 2: Elementals. Let me be blunt, Warchief: I know you’ve been getting offers of help from the Dark Shaman. You know, the ones who force the elementals to bend to their will and corrupt them into creatures of darkness. I’m only gonna say this once: don’t. Whatever neat little tricks they promised you, don’t. Don’t say yes to the jokers who think the elements are tools they get to bend in or out of shape as they like. You think life in the desert is harsh now? I’ve been chatting to the elements here, and they’re being nice. Even after you dragged out those molten giants during your attack on Theramore, they’ve decided to let your people keep on living here. But they’re running out of tolerance. It’s pretty understandable. If you laugh and spit in people’s faces too often they’ll try to get rid of you – like I was gonna do to Gallywix before the volcano on Kezan erupted. Besides, you don’t need to force the elementals to fight for you – some of them’ll do it for free.

And before you ask, I know this because since the death of Deathwing I’ve been hopping to some of the elemental planes, chating with the natives. Turns out, there’s entire armies of elementals out there without a cause to fight for. I don’t expect you to know this, but the leaders of the wind and fire elementals got KO’d a while back, like FOR REAL. Not coming back no matter how many reset buttons get pushed. Which means there’s a power vacuum in the Skywall and the Firelands – and a few of the more intelligent ones are happy to take any work they can get. Business has been good for me so far. Maybe you’d like to try it?

Now, like I said, the wind and fire elementals need no prompting, so that’s two elements ticked off right from the off. Earth is a little more tricky, ’cause their ruler is still around, and they’re not exactly big on mortals around there. Still, I’ve got a lot of pull with the Stonemother, so I imagine at least some of them would be willing to try working with someone I gave a ringing endorsement. The water boys, though? That’s kinda tricky. They’d be willing to give you a run, see how things go. But there’s a catch (of course there is) – namely, they want a small army of Horde troops to help them with reclaiming the Abyssal Maw from the naga. And not the kids fresh out of training either. Top of the line Kor’kron boots in the water is what they want. It seems there’s a few of them who are happy to serve the Alliance’s Frost mage population, and they don’t really want to switch sides without a little stellar motivation. I was half-tempted to say yes just to find out what the hell happened to that Neptulon guy, but I figured I should run it by you and see what we should do. Anyway, all I’m saying is, you’ve got an opportunity to play nice and get what you want from the elementals without screwing them and yourself over. I’d take it, if I were you.

Step 3: Trolls. And I’m not talking about the guys you know about – the peacemakers with the ambition of soggy wood. No, I’m talking about the big boys. The fellas who made an empire once, long ago. After the death of the Thunder King, they’re in a bad way in terms of leadership, and reduced to grasping at straws. Basically, they’ll take whatever help they can get, I’m sure. And let me tell you, Warchief, these guys mean business. I’ve seen them come out with some of the coolest toys a troll can get his hands on: giant dinosaur mounts, massive golems, even a few loa priests with transformation magic. Hell, you could get a lot of mileage out of them, and by bringing them into the fold, you’d be sending a message to those Darkspear morons that they’re not as needed as they think they are. Plus, you’d not only get rid of one of an ongoing list of enemies for the Horde, you’d also get powerful allies against the Alliance. Genius, huh?

Anyway, let me know how your negotiations go if you decide to give Blackfuse or the Zandas a call. And, uh, on the subject of the elementals, do I have the go-ahead? Be nice to do something more constructive than go brewing and selling the Vial of the Sands all day.

–Grottee Metalbeard, goblin shaman

We now continue with Tuesday mailbag.  Because holy fucking SHIT, what the fuck just happened THERE?  Where did the last eight pages and twelve hours go, for fuck’s sake?

Look, Grottee – and thank the spirits you had your name on the very last line there, because I sure as fuck wasn’t going to go looking – you might be brilliant and insightful and wise and skillful and loyal and punctual and have impeccable table manners, but DUDE, the FUCK?  A mailbag letter should NOT have CHAPTER BREAKS, dude.  And look, maybe you think I’m being a little hard on you, and maybe you’re thinking “oh, come on, that gigantic congealed brick of words wasn’t THAT long,” here, allow me to defer to an expert witness who knows a thing or two on the subject.  Check this out:

DO YOU SEE THAT?  DO YOU?  DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE FUCKING MAGNITUDE OF THAT SHIT?!

Okay, so, I’m just going to respond to random assorted parts of that, because in all honesty, I think I zoned out about four or five times trying to make my way through that.  So here we go.

Goblin tech.  Got it.  Not a bad idea.  I might have to look up this Blackfuse dude.  Like I was just telling Glitch back before forty days and forty nights blew on by, goblin tech CAN be handy, and it’s sure as hell a better option than trying our luck on gnomish crap.

So, water elementals.  Look, dude, go hang out with the elementals all you want, but don’t hold your breath waiting to get an answer on the whole Neptulon thing.  Mark my words, we are never going to find out what the fuck happened to that dude.  It’s just going to be one of those crazy mysteries lost to the mists of time, like where Medivh vanished off to, or what creepy shit is going on under Tirisfal Glades (other than the regular ol’ creepy shit that Sylvanas is doing any given Tuesday), or what really happened to Turalyon and Alleria or whoever the fuck.  You’re just never going to find out.  Either that or you’ll find out somewhere between 4-6 years from now, and at that point the answer’s probably just going to be a giant fucking disappointment anyway.

Meanwhile…the Zandalari.  Um…dude, I’ve got enough headaches from the trolls we’ve got, without going out and digging up some more.  I mean, fuck, if that’s what I’m going to do, how about I go help Lather-on-us recruit some more fucking hippies into DEHTA and send them an invitation to come hang out in Grommash Hold, and then I can round up some of these goblin mad scientist types and see if they can come up with a way to clone Dontrag and Utvoch, and then how about I log onto Earth Online and try pugging for a couple hours, or until my eyes bleed, whichever comes first (pro tip: smart money takes the under), and then I can put on my snazziest suit and invite Magatha over for afternoon tea.  THE FUCK KIND OF OPERATION DO YOU THINK I’M RUNNING HERE?

That said, as much as I’m no fan of trolls, riding around on dinosaurs?  THAT’s kind of badass.  I might have to see about getting me one of those.

 

That does it for this time. As always, keep those letters coming.

More soon.

 

[Keep the letters coming indeed – because next week the Warchief will be cranking out an extra mailbag for this month! So keep your questions, thoughts, and ramblings coming for next Monday!]

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LIVE BLOG: Ask Garrosh Anything!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

There are non-combat achievements?

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

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

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

Warchief Garrosh Hellscream, 

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

So my question is: What are you going to DO about her?!

With all due respect,

–Genn Graymane, King of Gilneas

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

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

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

After invading my kingdom in the most brutal manner possible,

Sounds like a good start.

killing my son,

That’ll teach him to keep his guard up.

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

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

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

 Not seeing a problem so far.

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

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

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

The WHAT you say?

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

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

according to my informants (who shall remain nameless).

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you believe in ghosts?‎ —@RuekieShaman

I… Hang on.

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

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

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

Do you believe in goblins?

What do you do to relax? –LazyPeon

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

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

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

I…

…

DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT THAT SHIT

ESPECIALLY THE LAST PART OF THAT SHIT

WHICH IS SHITTY SHIT EVEN BY SHIT STANDARDS HOLY SHIT

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where was I?

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

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

How much do you weigh? –Jordyn

7’2″, 340 lbs. of pure muscle.

And bone.

And sinew.

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

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

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

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

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

 Nobody knows, Sintra.  Nobody fucking knows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hang on.

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

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

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

Yeah.  Like zero…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Heh. Heheh.

HAAAAA!

What’s your earliest memory? —@LibFeathers

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you like to dance? –Jordyn

Draw your own conclusions.

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

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

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

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

Okay.

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

EPIC VERSE!

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

Um… I’ll see what else I can find.

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

OH FUCK YOU, MAGATHA

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

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

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

Garona?

Seriously?

Jealous much?

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

…

…

…that you need to concern yourself with.

<waggle>

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your guess is as good as mine.

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, okay, to answer your question:

Starting…NOW.*

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

I’m out, people.  More soon.

* * * * *

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

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

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Δ

Monday mailbag

So, I know I have plenty to update you all on after last time, but before I start getting into any of that, it’s time to dip into the mail…

A few questions for the Warchief:

I’ve noticed that Saurfang has not shown up in the EO chat logs for quite a while.  Has he been dropped from the guild or simply quit playing?

Garona seems fairly, well… Bipolar.  Has anyone thought to see if Faranell has some sort of magical or alchemical cure?

Why do folks get bent out of shape when I grab a burger?  Tauren aren’t cows, so it’s not canabalism.

What is your favorite spirit or brew?  I’m willing to buy you and Malkorok a drink, although I suggest not drinking his.

—Karlsohn, Thunder Bluff

Hey, Karlsohn, thanks for writing.  I guess I’ll tackle these in order:

Yeah, you know, I was thinking of this when I logged on the other day.  For those of you who might not remember, I got Saurfang to give EO a try with a refer-a-friend invite over a year ago, and got him into the guild.  He seemed to take to the game well enough, and was flying through levels for a while there, but then he just stopped turning up.  Like I said, this occurred to me the other day, so I looked up his last login – he hasn’t been online since around the time of the Theramore victory.  I guess EO didn’t grow on him THAT much, or maybe he got to the point where he was going to have to start paying the monthly subscription, and, well, you know how old guys are about parting with their hard-earned coppers.  And it’s not like I’ve been in contact with him much since things started heating up in Pandaria, so, y’know, your guess is as good as mine there.

Holy fucking hell, Karlsohn, that idea is frigging BRILLIANT.  Why the fuck did nobody think of this before?  Assuming Faranell’s got anything in that lab of his that’s not…y’know…fucking acid or something, he’s got to have SOMETHING that can even Garona out.  And if he doesn’t, I’ll take the acid.  You know the old saying: sprits grant me the strength to fix the things I can, the acid to liquefy the things I can’t, and the…um…some third thing I don’t really care about.  Anyway.

Don’t worry about the tauren, they’re just sensitive like that.  I’ve tried making the exact same point with them, but apparently cows are close enough to give them the heebie-jeebies.  Personally, I think they need to learn to relax a little, because let’s face it – so far in recent memory we’ve established relations with cow people, lizard people, bear people, goat people, buffalo people, walrus people, spider people, fish people, cat people, bear people again, monkey people, and bug people.  At the rate we’re going, if we make a point of not eating anything that resembles a race we know, the menu is going to get real short real fast.

I’m pretty fond of Blackrock Lager.  Also, the ogre brew I tried last time I was in Outland packed a pretty good punch.  (Don’t try mixing it with felweed, though.)  Also, don’t worry about me drinking Malkorok’s drink.  True fact: the guy is really big on those fruity weirdo drinks, like the ones that always come with those little umbrellas in them.  I mean, I like some cherry grog now and again, but that’s as far as I go.

I’m going to be a warrior, much to Matron Battlewail’s dis disapt well, she isn’t happy.  Do you have any advice for a newblood like me?  I want to bring glory to the Horde, but not if I trip while charging at the training dummies!  What if that happens in battle?!  I don’t want to make you and the Horde unhappy!

Aka’Magosh,

—Mirembe, Orgrimmar

Lok’tar, Mirembe, thanks for writing.  Try not to worry about Battlewail too much.  She always seems to have some kind of complaint about something.  “What about the children?” my ass.

Anyway, if you’re having trouble with your warrioring, have I ever got some good news for you.  There’s sort of a boot camp off the coast of the Barrens where you can go to work on your skills, above and beyond what you get from your regular trainer.  Matter of fact, it used to be the only place where warriors could learn Berserker Stance, before it sold out and went all mainstream.  So, next time you manage to give Battlewail the slip, head on down to Fray Island.  It’ll be tough going at first, I’m not going to lie, but give it time.  Orgrimmar wasn’t built in a day (especially that front gate, post-Cataclysm, because goblin contractors), and remember, there’s no shame in not being as awesome as me right off the bat.  Well, okay, there’s a little shame, but not much.  Point is, stick with the program, hang in there through the rough patches, and they’ll make a man out of you.  Unless you’re a girl.  In which case they’ll… erm… um… that is… they’ll…do something.  Something good.  Or whatever.  SEE, POLITICAL CORRECTNESS RUINED A PERFECTLY GOOD PEP TALK THERE.

Ey, warchief, didja know dat wyvern got three ballsacks?  Dat’s all.

—Marie’juanna

<sigh>

I’ve said it before.  I’ll say it again.

Felweed is a hell of a drug.

Yeah, these are my readers.  Sadly.

Please explain Twitter.  I try to explain it to some other orcs, but they think its only to tell people that you’re going to the bathroom or to post pictures of food.  It got even worse when Dontrag and Utvoch got involved to explain Twitter.

Sir, seriously, why are some orcs so damn dumb?  It’s embarrassing.

—Ruekie (@RuekieShaman), Shaman-in-training

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, REUKIE – um, I mean, for crying out loud, Reukie (YOU HUSH NOW, BATTLEWAIL), DO NOT TELL DONTRAG AND UTVOCH ABOUT TWITTER.  Are you freaking kidding me?  There isn’t enough failure and jackassery on the internet already?  No.  Just NO.  A world of no.  All the no that’s ever been ’no’wn.

But anyway, fine, I’ll try to help you explain the whole Twitter thing.  I’m really kind of amazed that there are people so stupid that they don’t already know what it is.  So, Twitter is this… thing…on the internet.  Where you go and type stuff.  Like publicly.  On a web site.  Unless you’re doing it on an app.  (Which I am in NO WAY WHATSOEVER going to try to explain to the Wonder Twins.)  And so you can type things into Twitter, and other people on the internet can read it and respond and shit.  It’s kind of like having a little tiny blog, read by other people with little tiny blogs, only you all have fucking nuclear ADD so you can’t stay focused on any post longer than 140 characters.  Or I guess you could maybe think of it like texting, if your texts weren’t being sent to anyone in particular.  So you go to send a text, and when the little texting robot asks you who to send it to, you just throw up your hands and you’re all “Fuck it, whoever, I don’t care.  Everyone.  Send it to everyone, ever.”  That’s Twitter.

Let me stress again: D&U, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO START FUCKING AROUND WITH TWITTER.  Although, it actually MIGHT be funny to get Tirion started on it, and then see how many times he runs up against the 140-character limit before his fucking head explodes.

Dear exalted Warchief,

As we have seen, when Ji Firepaw was first introduced to you, he (as a mark of respect for and recognition of your status) called you Emperor.  You appeared to take violent offense to that, and my question is, why?  You fit the definition.  You are the undisputed ruler of both your own national people, and a wide-ranging (multi-continental) group of non-orc nations, who none-the-less submit to you.  (Even we of the Ebon Blade, though not a nation as such, acknowledge your position.  Well, most of us.  Some of us.  Whatever.)

–Sintra E’Drien

See, I think you’re misreading me there, Sintra.  People seem to do that a lot.  I swear, if people keep pointing out my “violent offense” at things, I’m going to start thinking that maybe possibly YOU GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKERS THINK I’VE GOT A FUCKING TEMPER OR SOME SHIT.

That said, I was pretty much correcting Ji simply because “Warchief” is my title, not “Emperor.”  Officially.  Yet.  You’re right, though — I DO fit the definition.  Seeing as how “Warchief” has been the title for a good long while, though, I figure I should keep rolling with it until I do something that, say, leads to a dramatic increase in Horde territory, power, and influence.  Like, I don’t know, wiping out a rival power or three and annexing their lands.  Now, see, THEN you could make a pretty good case that the Horde had achieved honest-to-fuck imperial status.  And at THAT point, well, I can’t see there being much opposition at all to a triumphant leader declaring himself Emperor.  Which DOES have a ring to it, I have to admit.  Maybe I’ll even have some new processional music written up for myself and everything.

If you had the opportunity to meet your younger self, let’s say at 5 years old, what would you say to the young Garrosh?

What do you imagine that youngster would think of you?

—Kee, Jade Forest, Pandaria

Okay, first of all, considering all the timey-whimey shit I’ve already had to deal with, don’t even JOKE about shit like that.  Haven’t we dodged enough bullets with time being fucked with?  Do we have to sit down and come up with MORE clusterfuckery we could stir up for ourselves?  Seriously, at this point, I don’t even want to be REMINDED of the Bronze Dragonflight.  If I ever see any of those fuckers again, it’ll be too soon.  Or too late.  That is…um… FUCKING TIME TRAVEL.

But okay, if you want to play some weird hypothetical game with this, here.  If I could talk to 5-year-old me – at which point I would have JUST been recovering from the red pox, and my mom would have still been alive – I would mostly tell him to spare himself the whiny emo phase, because Grom was actually pretty awesome.  Don’t take everything at face value – yeah, on the surface it looks like the old man was a real piece of work, but it turns out that he was a hero in the end, and nobody even knew.  And I have to figure young-me would listen, because he’d be sharp enough to take one look at how awesome he grows up to be and figure, damn, I must know what I’m talking about.

Oh, yeah, and while I was at it, I would tell myself to lay off the draenei chicks, because man oh man, is THAT one ever going to come back to bite you in the ass.

Speaking of which…

Heeey, how ya doing Hellscream!

My name is Kitti Scrollwiki, Goblin Scribe for the Azeroth Inquirer, Horde Edition. There are raging hot rumors about you and my readers everywhere just want to know more!

Who is Shayari’s mother?  It is rumored she is Draenei.  Is this true?

How long ago did this happen?

Is the mother very pretty?  What attracted you to her?

How did you meet?

How long was your romance with her?

What food would best describe her?

Did Greatmother know?  How did she respond?

Where can we find her now?

Is there any chance of reconciliation with her?

Are you paying child support?

How are your current girlfriend(s) reacting to all this?  For that matter….who are your current girlfriend(s)?  Inquiring minds want to know!

Oh, oh, oh, oh….

IS IT TRUE YOU ARE SHAYARI’S FATHER?  (I almost forgot that, silly me.)  This has been the hot topic of Orgrimmar while you were gone.

(By the way, if you have any juicy details you want to share, you know, just between you and me…I won’t tell anyone.  On my honor as a Goblin.)

Don’t delay in responding!  The Love Is In The Air followup edition is preparing to go out and this will make the pages sizzle!  Hellscream’s Torrid Love Affair! Cha-ching!

Keep it real!

—Kitti Scrollwiki, Scribe, Azeroth Inquirer, Horde Edition

Yeah, so, I had to figure I was going to have to deal with some shit like this.  As much as we’re trying to keep a lid on the whole Shayari deal, you had to know some rumors would start slipping out.  So…same as with the letter further above, let me take these in order:

Shayari’s mother’s name was Marsiya.  Yes, she was a draenei.  I mean, really, have you seen Shayari?  You weren’t able to piece that much together?  Incisive journalistic mind you’ve got, I see.

Shayari’s seventeen years old.  Why don’t you get out a pencil and paper and see if you can math out your own answer to this one.

What, you think I’d go slumming?  Even back then, I didn’t have to settle.  THE LADIES LOVE GARROSH.

Our eyes met from across the crowd.  The moon was full and bright, its luminous glow dancing upon the surface of the water, and the air was sweet with honeysuckle.  Across the lakeside pavilion, orc and draenei spun and danced in dizzying spectacle as the midsummer gala launched into its annual reverie.  Distant voices, mirthful and musical, whispered unnoticed through the warm breeze, the whole of our attentions rapt upon each other’s gaze, in one of those singular moments both uncanny and sublime in which the universe seems, fleetingly, to reveal itself to the soul.  IS THAT THE KIND OF SHIT YOU’RE LOOKING FOR?  Fucking hell.  We both lived in broke-ass starving villages shoved off into the ass end of a planet that some fuckhead went and blew up.  What the fuck do you THINK we were doing?  We were both out hunting to see if we could find enough food so that, hey, maybe THIS week half a dozen people we know WON’T croak, and we ended up fighting over who had dibs on that extra-meaty-looking talbuk, and somewhere in middle of kicking each other’s asses we took a good look and realized, hey, this one’s not half bad.

Depending on how you count, two months or eight minutes.  Admittedly, not my best work.

Fish, because I hear tell fish is brain food, and she obviously was smart enough to know not to ask a FUCKING STUPID-ASS QUESTION LIKE THIS ONE.

NO SHE DID NOT.  And does not.  And still has a fucking killer right hook, so ixnay on abbingblay, for fuck’s sake, okay?

Go to Nagrand, pick a patch of ground that looks good to you, dig about six feet down, and cross your fingers.

See above.  Unless you brought a Ouija board, not likely.

Oh, I’m paying, all right.  I’m paying.

No comment.  Also no comment.  And ESPECIALLY no comments from YOU, Garona.

And finally:  No comment.  Classified.  Matters of internal security.

Okay.  Deftly handled, if I do say so myself.  Hopefully that puts an end to the Shayari inquiries.

Garrosh Hellscream, Warchief of the Horde,

I write to you after witnessing the disgusting perversion you show towards my people, specifically a child who may or may not be sired by you.  I can see clearly that your kind are filthy mongrels even outside of battle, and will never be among the holy Naaru you pig fucking animals.  Goodbye and may the Naaru char your city to dust.

—Vindicator Toriix, Exodar

Or not.

So.

As the child in question might say, you mad, bro?

I mean, really, I don’t know what you’ve got going on over at the Exodar – other than, y’know, hanging out with the talking chandelier and disco dancing like a motherfucker – but woo boy, you need to relax like nobody’s business.  Seriously, dude, you need to get laid or something.  Believe me, it’ll help you unwind.

Speaking of which, I’m not going to dignify perversion-this and mongrels-that with a response, but I do have to correct you on point of fact: not pig-fucking.  Goat.  Goat.

P.S.  Your mom says hi.

TOODLES.

That does it for this week, but as always, keep those letters coming.  E-mail me at garrosh1337@gmail.com or use the handy-dandy form below.

More soon.

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Paternity (part 2)

So, picking up right where we left off last time…

* In Garrosh’s most recent mailbag, he discussed the lank distemper, a disease that ravaged the Kurenai of Nagrand at roughly the same time the orcs were afflicted with the red pox.

Well, I guess that’s what I get for giving that job to a 15-year-old, right?  Oh well.  Moving on with the record from Taktani.  (Let’s keep our fingers crossed on this one…)

 

(Yay, Mr. Warchief is letting me be his scribe again!  I better do a good job because I guess Mr. Warchief was checking on how Mr. Gurtash was doing and he wasn’t too happy.  Everyone else seems a little upset, too.  I guess being a scribe is super important work!  Mr. Gurtash looked really embarrassed when he left.  I hope he doesn’t feel too bad because I think he draws good.  He even draws me!  Yay!  Oh wait I think they’re talking about me!)

SHAYARI – Okay, so that was weird.

FARANELL – You get used to it after a while.

SHAYARI – So, who’s this one now?

GARROSH – Really, the less you ask about her, the better.

MALKOROK – More importantly, goat, we’ll be the ones asking the questions.

TAKTANI – Hi!  I’m Taktani!

LIADRIN – Shayari, this is another of Garrosh’s assistants—

TAKTANI – But you can call me Tak!

SHAYARI – Oh, so she’s filling in for the pipsqueak now?

TAKTANI – Or Tak-Tak!

GARROSH – How many times do I have to tell you, THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS!

SHAYARI – Well, at least she seems a little cheerier than Chuckles over there.

(That made Mr. Malkorok really mad.  He seems to be pretty grumpy.  He spends a lot of time with Mr. Warchief so I guess he must help him a lot, but I wish he wouldn’t yell so much.)

MALKOROK – Warchief, one swing!  That’s all I ask!  One swing is all I’ll need to silence this…this creature permanently.

(I don’t think I like him very much.  It makes me sad.  =(  )

GARROSH – Malk, last time, cool it.

MALKOROK – Count yourself lucky the Warchief is so merciful, goat!

SHAYARI – You mad, bro?

MALKOROK –  I— you— how dare— sir— UNGH!  (He paced around a few seconds, shaking his fists, grinding his teeth, and looking at Mr. Warchief now and then)  I… I think I need to walk a bit.  If you’ll excuse me, sir…

(Mr. Malkorok stormed off and started stomping back and forth near the bank.  It sounded like he was grumbling to himself.  I’m not sure, but I think he might have punched a couple people, too.  That’s mean!  =(  )

SPAZZLE – Okay, so whether you’re really Garrosh’s daughter or not, I already like you.

(OMG Mr. Warchief is a daddy?!?!  YAY!!!  That’s so exciting!!)

GARROSH – So hang on.  Even assuming this is all true – which we ARE going to check — how did you wind up HERE?

SHAYARI – I was living in Dalaran studying to be a mage when…well, when Jaina went all schizo.

GARROSH – Gotta say, I knew it was only a matter of time before she went off the deep end.

SHAYARI – Oh my Light, I know!  She thinks she’s such a big deal, rolling into town and taking over, and being all Emo Queen of Pain, and… Oh, and Kalecgos!  Have you heard about her and Kalecgos?  You should see how she leads that poor dragon around by the nose!

GARROSH – Heh, yeah.  I’ve kinda gotten that sense from those two…

SHAYARI – No, no, I mean literally!  He has a nose ring in his dragon form, and she’s got this leash, and— and— oh spirits it’s so sad.

GARROSH –  Hah!  Hahaha…that’s…that’s kind of awesome.

SHAYARI – Awesomely sad.

(I like when Mr. Warchief gets happy like this.  He doesn’t yell as much!  Not like Mr. Malkorok.)

GARROSH – So hang on, if you’ve been staying with the Sunreavers all this time, how come this is the first I’m hearing about it?

LIADRIN – She wasn’t with the Sunreavers, sir.  At least not until the purge was well underway.

SHAYARI – I stayed mostly over on the Silver Covenant part of Dalaran.  People knew I was half orcish…most of the time I would pass as full draenei, but the other draenei could see it.  It wasn’t as big a deal when I was back in Nagrand, but…  (shrugs)  Anyway.  After Jaina had her little hissy fit, anyone with any Horde ties became pretty unwelcome in Dalaran.  My being half orc was close enough for some of them, I guess.

GARROSH – So, wait, if people knew you were half orc, does that mean they knew—

SHAYARI – I never talked to people about who my father was.  My mom told me, and a few people back in Telaar knew, but…

LIADRIN – I would imagine it was for the best that the Kirin Tor didn’t know of her full parentage.

GARROSH – Yeah, I figure that would have made her a lot less popular a lot sooner.

SHAYARI – Oh my Light, you should hear the things they say about you there!  The things they talk about you doing!  I figured all those stories had to be some kind of Alliance propaganda to make you look bad!

(Everyone just kind of looked at each other for a minute.  I don’t really understand why.  Maybe they were trying to figure out why people would want to say mean things about Mr. Warchief?  That’s mean, especially since he’s a daddy now!

Mr. Warchief looked around at everyone being all quiet.)

GARROSH – WELL DON’T EVERYONE AGREE WITH HER AT ONCE!

LIADRIN – Clearly propaganda, yes, sir.

SPAZZLE – Don’t know where people come up with this stuff, chief.

FARANELL – Unless, you know, they exist in this universe and have eyes.  But sure, whatever does it for you.

(Mr. Malkorok came back over to us.  He didn’t seem so mad now, but it’s hard to tell since he’s always kind of grumpy.)

MALKOROK – Apologies for my…outburst, Warchief.

GARROSH – Yeah, it’s fine, Malk.  So anyway, you said the doc has some way of checking out this story?

LIADRIN – Yes, sir.  Obviously the doctor himself can comment with greater authority on the details.

(While they were talking, Mr. Warchief’s wyvern Mr. Mortimer came wandering over to us.  He passed by Mr. Malkorok first, and I guess he maybe thought Mr. Malkorok was a tree?  Because he kind of…well…lifted his leg…on his leg.)

MALKOROK – UGHH this damned flea-bitten— I— GAHH I’ll be back…

(Mr. Malkorok stomped off again.  Mr. Mortimer walked up to Miss Shayari and nuzzled against her leg.  Aww!)

SHAYARI – Aww, (That’s what I said!) who’s this?  (petting the wyvern)

GARROSH – That’s Mortimer.

SHAYARI – (still petting)  You named him Mortimer?

GARROSH – Actually, no.

SPAZZLE – It came from that D.E.H.T.A. guy, didn’t it?

GARROSH – Yeah.

SHAYARI – Oh, those hippies?  (petting more)  Well, it’s okay, Mortimer, you’re a handsome boy even if the crazy hippies did give you a silly name.

LIADRIN – Shay, perhaps you could take the wyvern for a walk while we discuss a few things.

SHAYARI – Sure.  Come on, Mortimer!

(Miss Shayari and Mr. Morty started walking around the Valley of Strength.  The rest of us watched her walk away.)

TAKTANI – I like her!  She seems nice!

SPAZZLE – Not gonna lie.  She had me at “You mad, bro?”

LIADRIN – Warchief?  Any thoughts?

GARROSH – I don’t know.  But her story from Nagrand…well, she’s got her details straight.  At least the names and dates.

(Mr. Warchief looked across the valley for a minute to watch Miss Shayari and Mr. Mortimer walking by the main gate.)

GARROSH – Mortimer seems to like her.

SPAZZLE – Yeah, he took to her right away.

GARROSH – He is a pretty good judge of character.

FARANELL – This would be the wyvern that likes you, correct?

GARROSH – Your point being, Easy-Break?

FARANELL – Just citing further evidence to your point, obviously.

LIADRIN – Loathe though I am to agree with the overlord—

SPAZZLE – Isn’t it funny how you’ve known him for like five minutes, and you already hate to admit he might have a point?

LIADRIN – …he does raise a valid concern.  The details of Shayari’s past all build on information that could have been acquired, albeit with some measure of difficulty.

GARROSH – Yeah.  They would have to do some digging, but they could have pieced it together.

LIADRIN – The fact that she comes from Dalaran is cause for us to be all the more wary.

(Mr. Warchief looked across at Miss Shayari, who was still walking with Mr. Mortimer around the Valley of Strength.  In front of the Broken Tusk, she started talking with one of the orcs, Mr. Thathung.)

GARROSH – What do you really think?

LIADRIN – I think that if she is who she says she is, she lives in a better world than we do.

GARROSH – …In Common, please?

LIADRIN – (sighing but smiling)  I only mean that if she is your daughter, sir, she’s grown up hearing stories from the Alliance about the orcs, and about you in particular, and yet she’s come here fully expecting to be embraced by her father and given a home.  As she said herself, she’s been told countless reasons to consider you a villain – and rejected all of them as lies.  If that really is her, I may even envy her.

GARROSH – So you believe her.

LIADRIN – I would still counsel prudence.  But I prefer to hope for the best in people.

GARROSH – Sounds like you live in a “better world” yourself.

LIADRIN – No, I don’t.  That’s why I hate to give up on the possibility of an unbroken soul.  I know this world well enough to understand how rare they are.

(Over by the Broken Tusk, Shayari had been continuing to talk with Mr. Thathung all this time – only she looked like she was getting pretty upset with Mr. Thathung for some reason.  Now she finally hit him!  Um…a whole bunch of times!  Over and over and over, really angry-like!  Oh no!)

SHAYARI – (in the distance, but still clearly audible)  Hey, I said to WATCH THE HANDS, Grabby McWanderpaws!  (flinging Mr. Thathung against the auction house wall and continuing to beat him senseless)  Yeah!  See how you like people grabbing YOU!  NEXT TIME I’LL TAKE YOUR FUCKING HAND CLEAN OFF AND FUCKING FEED IT TO YOU – IN REVERSE!

(Mr. Warchief, Ms. Liadrin, Mr. Goblin, and Dr. Zombie looked back and forth at each other.)

SPAZZLE – Huh.

GARROSH – Well then.

FARANELL – So, yeah, I can still do the tests if you want, but honestly, if you ask me, it’s just going to be a waste of perfectly good ichor.

 

So…yeah.  I still have a million and one things to deal with here in Orgrimmar before I head back to Pandaria, but…well, now I guess that’s going to be a million and two.

Stay tuned.

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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Burdens of the spirit

After the disaster with the Divine Bell, I spent a couple days channeling old-Nagrand-Garrosh – brooding and moping in my quarters here at Domination Point.  Other than occasional tactical reports from General Nazgrim, most people had the good sense to leave me to myself.  Hell, even Dontrag and Utvoch managed to keep their yaps shut for a couple days.  This may or may not be related to me slapping them around several times when I first got back to the base.

The time to myself gave me the chance to think more about where to go from here.  After what went down at the Emperor’s Reach, it’s painfully obvious that I need to start taking matters into my own hands.  Trouble is, in practical terms, I’m not sure what that actually ENTAILS.  So, one step at a time: Time to act one the one avenue I have open to me, and worry about what comes next when I get there.  Elder Cloudfall told me he could help prepare me for my destiny, or however he fortune-cookied it, so it’s time to take him up on the offer.

Granted, I’m not exactly thrilled about what little I’ve heard about that Kypari Zar place, so a few more answers might be nice.  Any bets on whether I’ll actually get them?

Anyway, I had some trouble tracking down Cloudfall at first.  He wasn’t anywhere on the base, and Ben-Lin didn’t know where he’d wandered off to.  Finally, Jorn Skyseer told me he’d been talking with Cloudfall about some of the areas nearby that our hunting parties have been hitting up, and he pointed me toward the island to the east.  The one where the trainees used to go crane hunting when we first set up shop here in Pandaria.

I flew over to the island, with Taktani in tow.  Cloudfall was sitting on a rock along the shore.  He and Zhi-Zhi were sitting back to back in one of those meditation poses that look like they would hurt your legs like hell, eyes closed, off in their own little world.

 

GARROSH – Hey, Gramps.

(Mr. Elder Panda man and his money friend just keep sitting on the rock and being quiet.)

GARROSH – Elder?

(Elder Panda still doesn’t respond.)

GARROSH – Hello?  Chimps?  Anybody home?

(Mr. Monkey didn’t answer either.  I hope his ears are okay!)

GARROSH – (tapping Zhi-Zhi on the shoulder)  Hey, Banana Boy!

ZHI-ZHI – (jumping, startled)  AAAH!  Oh…oh, the One!  Much apologizing, Zhi-Zhi did not see you, was thinking great thoughts.

GARROSH – Uh, yeah, whatever.  So listen, I… Hang on.  (turning to me)  Tak?

TAKTANI – Hi!

(Mr. Warchief kind of stared at me for a minute.  Maybe he forgot what he was going to say?)

GARROSH – Yeah, hi.  So now that we’ve met, is there a reason why you’re not, y’know, writing anything down?

TAKTANI – Oh!  I’m sorry, Mr. Warchief.  I forgot to bring my paper.

GARROSH – You…forgot.

TAKTANI – I left it back in my room!

GARROSH – You realize that’s the ENTIRE reason I bring you places, right?

TAKTANI – Don’t be mad!  I’m sorry!

(Mr. Warchief rubbed his eyes and forehead for a minute.  I think maybe his eyes were sore because of how sunny it was.  I should give him some sunglasses for his birthday!  Does anyone know when his birthday is?)

GARROSH – (still rubbing his eyes)  Of all your crimes, Mokvar, this may be the most grating…

TAKTANI – I don’t understand, Mr. Warchief.

GARROSH – Never mind.  Okay, look, Tak, you’re not off the hook yet.  You just made some extra homework for yourself.

TAKTANI – But I’m not in school, Mr. Warchief!

GARROSH – Yeah, well, maybe this will teach you lesson #1: Don’t forget the tools of your damn trade!

TAKTANI – I’m sorry!  😦

GARROSH – So…here’s what you’re going to do.  Most of the sand around here looks pretty wet.  So YOU, little miss Swiss Cheese Brain, can just sit yourself down and write your notes in the sand, and then come back with your paper and copy it later.

TAKTANI – Ooh, that sounds fun!

GARROSH – BEFORE THE DAMN TIDE COMES IN.  (sighs)  Okay.  So.  Back to you, monkey boy.  What’s up with Old Man Furball here?  Is he off in some weird panda brain-freeze zone or something?

(While Mr. Warchief was talking, I started writing everything in the sand like he said, like this and this and this and YAY this is fun!  Oh and I did like he said and came back later to copy it all down and I even brought Mr. D and Mr. U to help check my spelling, because they’re smart and nice.  And SEE, Mr. Warchief, I got it all done just like you said!  Oh oh oh but while I was writing it out, there was a seagull flying around, and it pooped on the first page.  I hope you notice it’s there before you touch it.)

 

I didn’t.

 

ZHI-ZHI – Ah, ah, yes, Elder Cloudfall is in deep meditation.  Much more focused than Zhi-Zhi.  As matter of fact, Elder has been teaching Zhi-Zhi meditation techniques, teaching to block out everything around Zhi-Zhi.  Will help to center Zhi-Zhi.

GARROSH – So you can think more great thoughts.

ZHI-ZHI – Ahh!  You are understanding!

GARROSH – So how long does it usually take for Captain Comatose to come back out of these—

CLOUDFALL – (not moving, eyes still closed)  I can hear you, Warchief Garrosh.

ZHI-ZHI – Elder!

GARROSH – So, Gramps, if you could hear me, any particular reason you didn’t answer me before?

CLOUDFALL – (continuing to keep his eyes closed)  I was in the midst of pursuing a line of thought.  I felt it more pressing that I complete it.

GARROSH – Isn’t it kind of rude to just ignore people when they talk to you?

CLOUDFALL – Is it not rude to interrupt people who are clearly meditating?

ZHI-ZHI – But, erm, Elder, you are hearings all the transpiringses…um…were we not practicing our deep meditation exercises?

CLOUDFALL – I have been practicing these techniques since before your great grandmother was born, Zhi-Zhi.

GARROSH – So anyway, now that you’re done with that—

CLOUDFALL – I’m not.

GARROSH – You’re what?

CLOUDFALL – As I said, Warchief Garrosh, I have been availing myself of the peace and solitude of the beach to think.

GARROSH – Um, okay?

CLOUDFALL – I’m not finished.

(Mr. Panda Elder still hadn’t opened his eyes, and now he settled back into place more.)

GARROSH – Hang on, you’re seriously going to blow me off so you can fucking go back to…whatever, going over your grocery list or backtracking to wherever you left your keys, or whatever the fuck you’re doing?

(Mr. Panda didn’t say anything.)

GARROSH – (to Zhi-Zhi)  Is he for real?

ZHI-ZHI – (shrugs and waves one hand)  Is easier not trying to argue, truths to telling.

CLOUDFALL – There.  (opens his eyes, stands, and turns to Garrosh)  Now I am finished.

GARROSH – Well yay.

TAKTANI – Yay!

GARROSH – DON’T START.

TAKTANI – Oh.  😦

GARROSH – So do you mind telling me what was so important that it couldn’t wait?

(Mr. Panda man looked around the beach a few times.)

CLOUDFALL – Your pupil, Gurtash, and his peers.  I understand they used to come here on occasion.

GARROSH – Oh.  Yeah.  They used to go hunting here.

CLOUDFALL – (nods)  This is a sacred place, you know.  The Cradle of Chi-Ji, the Great Crane.

GARROSH – Look, if you’re going to start complaining that they came here to—

CLOUDFALL – You misunderstand me, Warchief Garrosh.  I did not come here to pass judgment.  I came merely to visit a place of some import to the youths, away from the bustle of your fortifications, and allow them to enter my thoughts.

GARROSH – Ah.  Yeah.  They’ve been in mine a lot lately, too.

CLOUDFALL – Indeed.

(Mr. Warchief got kind of quiet and Mr. Panda man stayed quiet for a minute too and watched him.)

CLOUDFALL – In any case, I’m sure you did not seek me out to revisit such things.  How may I be of help to you?

GARROSH – By doing what you came here for in the first place.  You said you could help me get ready for this great destiny of mine.

CLOUDFALL – Indeed.  Or rather, I believe I can help you to meet it.  Whether it will prove to be great or not will be very much up to you.

GARROSH – Well, either way, you said that this Kypari Zar place is where he need to go to get started.  So, whenever you’re ready to go, let’s go.

CLOUDFALL – I also told you that you carry many shadows with you.

GARROSH – Kind of the point of us going to that Zar place, right?

CLOUDFALL – Indeed.  But you carry more now.  Perhaps needlessly.

GARROSH – (sighs)  Can you bottom-line this, maybe, or are you going to do a whole speech again?

ZHI-ZHI – (waving his hand)  Really much easier not to tryings with the arguings.

CLOUDFALL – (pointing northward)  The temple to the north.  That is where the…calamity occurred?

GARROSH – Yeah, don’t remind me.

CLOUDFALL – Have you gone there since then?

GARROSH – No.

CLOUDFALL – You should.

GARROSH – Look, Gramps, I get that you’re probably going for some kind of hippie closure crap here, but if you think it’s actually going to IMPROVE my mood to go up there and find a bunch of—

CLOUDFALL – Warchief Garrosh, no facts that you find there will be so damaging to the soul as the nightmares your mind has conjured in their absence.

GARROSH – (looking north)  Yeah, maybe.

CLOUDFALL – And in the process, you may allow yourself the opportunity to bring one lesser shadow with you on our journey.

GARROSH – (sighs)  You’re just going to stonewall me until I go, aren’t you?

ZHI-ZHI – Really not worth tryings to—

GARROSH – (slapping Zhi-Zhi)  Shut it, Spanks.

CLOUDFALL – Kypari Zar will still be there when you are done.

GARROSH – (turns and starts to walk toward Mortimer)  Yeah, fine.  I’ll drop little miss Happy Kitty here off at the base, and get a couple things squared away, then…  (stops, then looks back at Cloudfall)  You know, I’ve heard of that Kypari Zar place before.

CLOUDFALL – (perks an eyebrow)  Oh?

GARROSH – Last year.  I didn’t even know what “Kypari Zar” was.  But someone in…high places…told me if I went there, I would die.

CLOUDFALL – (nods slowly)  You may.  In fact, you will.

GARROSH – Not the best sales pitch, Gramps.

CLOUDFALL – You will die if you go there.  But then, you will die if you do not.  Just as I will die if I take you, and I will die if I do not.  That we will die is assured, Warchief Garrosh.  The only question is how, and when, and why.

GARROSH – That’s a cop-out and you know it.

CLOUDFALL – I know no such thing.

GARROSH – (shrugs and climbs onto Mortimer)  Well, whatever.  I’ve got enough on my mind these days, what’s one more thing, right?

CLOUDFALL – If I might make a suggestion, Warchief Garrosh.  A great many years ago, a former mentor offered me certain words of solace.  A phrase of great power and wisdom, and consolation to the soul in times of need.

GARROSH – What’s that?

CLOUDFALL – Have a drink.  Next one’s on me.

 

Not the worst idea in the world, actually.  I might head downstairs and see what we have on tap.  Meanwhile, I’m going to put a couple things in order here at the base, then take Mortimer back out for a flight over to the Temple of the Red Crane.  For better or worse.

More soon.

Monday mailbag

Before I really get rolling with my investigations in Kun-Lai summit, I figured I’d make a pit stop and check on the mail.  Here’s what we have this time around…

 

Dear Warchief,

I haven’t had the chance to get out to Pandaria yet, but I look forward to joining the war effort soon.  In the meantime, I’m curious, what’s your take on all that Pandaren beer I’ve been hearing so much about?

–Kalaban, Undercity

Thanks for writing, Kalaban.  Gotta say, I’ve been dipping into the local panda brews quite a bit since I’ve been out here (Can you blame me?  Have you SEEN the cast of characters I’ve got surrounding me?), and they’re not bad at all.  It’s really pretty hard for me to give much more of a review than that, because if there’s one thing panda beers have going for them, it’s VARIETY.  They’ve got these lighter, thinner ones that personally I think are almost like drinking water (I’m gonna bet those are pretty popular with the blood elves), all the way up to some serious, heavy-duty, knock-you-on-your-ass brews.  Plus everything in between, including all kinds of flavor varieties.  I guess that’s what happens when half the population seems to work in the brewing industry in one way or another.

And really, quality-wise you can’t complain about any of it.  The ones that are so-so are still totally drinkable.  And the ones that are GOOD?  Man.  They make half the stuff you get during Brewfest seem like you’re drinking carbonated kodo piss.  Speaking of which, I’m almost afraid to imagine what’s going to happen when the pandas get their first look at Brewfest next year, because holy shit.

That’s the other thing you notice about the pandas, I’ve got to say.  Dipping into the beer is so much a part of their culture that you don’t even realize that almost the entire population has a constant, low-level buzz going.  And the funny thing is, yeah, sure, they enjoy drinking and all, but they manage to stay really chill about it, like you never see any angry drunks anywhere (take notes, Tirion).  But it’s also like a cultural expectation that they stay vaguely buzzed even beyond the sheer fun of knocking a few back.  Which, by the way, makes me worry about General Nazgrim going native on us – you may have noticed, dude has this nasty habit of boarding ships and then winding up smashing them to bits, and I’m thinking that trend won’t be helped if he starts getting into the habit of boozing it up to boot.  Not to mention, he’s a general and needs to stay combat-ready.  Can’t have him getting a beer belly on us.

 

Hail Mighty Warchief!

Someone is going around posting this…uhhh….manipulated image of you.  It’s a travesty and demoralizing to the horde! This cannot keep going! I find too many who are laughing at this.

The fool cryptically added FYG and sign it J. I am not sure what that means, but it can’t be nice. Fattening Your Gut? Fondly Yours Garona? (bitch!) F..ff..ffffffuucc…. ooooooh……OH. OOOOHHH! O.O

SIR, THIS IS OUTRAGEOUS! I WILL HUNT DOWN THIS…THIS…LESS THAN A PEON WORTHLESS SCUM, SLIT HIS THROAT, AND MAKE A NECKLACE FROM HIS TEETH AS A GIFT TO YOU!

I WILL NOT STAND HAVING SOMEONE MAKE YOU LOOK FATTER THAN JI!

I WILL HUNT DOWN AND KILL EVERY PERSON WHO’S NAME STARTS WITH THE LETTER J STARTING WITH THAT FREAKING BLONDIE BOY JOHNNY AWESOME!

(Like the caps? Me too.)

After all the J’s are dead, their heads hanging of the gates of Ogrimmar,  and the streets flowing with their blood…can we like, go out? I think you’re so cute…even if you have a little bit of a belly. (You may want to take it easy on the pancakes and lemon squares, sir.)

Forever in my Heart,

–Tuekie, Rogue Trainee, Ogrimmar

PS: I’m older than I look. Ok?

Okay, so first of all, just so everybody knows, Tuekie here is one of the Dead Peons Society trainees that I’ve been working with the last few months, part of that whole group Gurtash is in.  She’s actually the twin sister of Ruekie, a shaman trainee I think I’ve mentioned once before.

And yes, I know.  Somebody had twins and named them Ruekie and Tuekie.  And yes, I agree.  Death is too good for some parents.  (Granted, “Ruekie” and “Tuekie” are nicknames, and their original, given names – Rue’kara and Tue’kara – are a little better, but still, come on.  You don’t give your twins names that fucking rhyme.)

Anywhow.  Tuekie here was part of the original group with her sister, but we ended up having her stay back in Orgrimmar rather than join us for the trip to Pandaria, in no small part because…yeah.  As you might have noticed…just a little tiny bit TOO fond of her mentor.  So between the fact that in Pandaria I wouldn’t have the ability to send her back to her parents at the end of the day, and the fact that, as a rogue, who KNOWS what she could get up to sneaking around all invisible and shit…yeah, better to let her stay with mom and dad.  FYI, there were a couple other trainees who ended up needing to stay back in Orgrimmar for one reason or another, so they’re still continuing their training back there while the other eight trainees are down here with me.

Oh and also, Teukie?  “I’m older than I look”?  Um, I KNOW how old you are.  You’re freaking fourteen.  I’m thirty-four, and you’re fourteen, and I haven’t hooked up with a teenager since I WAS a teenager, and the less said about that draenei girl in Nagrand the better, seeing as I don’t want Greatmother coming down here and boxing my ears.  So will you give it a rest already because it isn’t going to happen, okay?

Seriously, do other teachers have to deal with this shit?  Don’t stand so close to me.

Now as for the OTHER important part of this letter…

OMG WTF IS THAT SHIT?!?!

Okay…so…this is where I am TOTALLY on board with Teukie, because whoever is behind THAT thing…I…it…just…HOLY FUCKING HELL.  “F.Y.G.” OMG

Okay.  Okay…calming down…deep breaths…let’s look at this thing rationally.

So…we know we’re looking for someone whose name starts with a J.  (By the way, I’m not sure if Johnny Awesome is really going to be our prime suspect here, but you know what?  Go kill him anyway.  Fucker.)

Also, based on…the product…it’s probably a safe bet that this is someone who really, really doesn’t like yours truly.  So, right there, that narrows the field down A LOT, right?

Add to that the fact that that image is clearly using an Earth Online character model.  So we’re dealing with someone who probably plays EO, or at least is familiar enough with the game that they would think to dip into it for the image.

So…J’s…  Ji Firepaw couldn’t be it – yeah, he plays EO a little, but he’s pretty clueless in-game and I don’t see him being able to do that kind of image manipulation.  Jorn Skyseer at Domination Point is out – he isn’t a gamer at all, and I’ve always gotten along pretty well with him.  Jorin Deadeye?  Hmm…I don’t THINK he plays EO, but let’s maybe not cross him off the list just yet.

There have to be other options, though.  Think, Garrosh, think…someone who doesn’t like you, whose name starts with J…plays Earth Online…

Oh.

OH.

THAT FUCKING BITCH?!?!!

Ohhhhh man is she in for it.  Let’s see how funny she thinks it is when I march down there and blow up her whole damn—OH WAIT, I TOTALLY ALREADY DID.  So you know what?  If this is her idea of revenge, if the worst thing she can come up with to get back at the Horde is to doctor up some sad little picture to send around the internet, hey, knock yourself out, Jaina.  Have fun.  Pretty fucking sad, when you think of it.  Also pretty ironic that she’s making pictures of ME to put on the internet – seriously, lady, you want to go over some of the image searches for YOU that come up in my Google hits on a daily basis?

 

Dear Warchief Garrosh,

I just recently found your blog and just caught up on all of your postings. It’s been nice to see the more orcish side of such a larger than life leader. Plus, your lemon squares are truly a gift from the Light! Even though I am Forsaken, those lemon squares manage to bring life back to my taste buds.

I wanted to share a story I thought you might enjoy. I was searching for news on the events happening in Pandaria, and I came across a picture of Lor’themar Theron. I showed my husband (a blood elf paladin) the picture, and his response was “Who is the guy with the eyepatch?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Don’t tell Lor’themar, I’d hate for him to get angry at me. I’d rather not have him glaring at me when I join up with the Reliquary in Pandaria.

Fare well in Pandaria, Warchief.

–Beshara Dawnblaze, Forsaken priestess of the Shadow and Light

Thanks for writing, Beshara.  I’m not gonna lie.  I LOL’ed reading that.  I’m still kinda sitting here chortling, because…hehe…

“Who’s the guy with the eyepatch?”

“What, you mean Eyepatch?”

“That can’t really be his name, can it?  People must call him something else, right?”

“Ponytail, maybe?”

“That’s not really a name, either.”

“Hair-Care?  Cyclops?”

“I don’t think he would really answer to those, would he?”

“Well then I’m out.”

So, also, see?  SEE?  NOBODY knows the dude’s name, not even his own people.  It’s not just me, and it’s not just the Earth Online gang.  Other that Sylvanas, who seems to be able to remember him for some reason.  Maybe it’s an undead thing.  As far as those of us among the living go, though, I swear it’s like the guy has some crazy psychic field around him that makes everyone forget him as soon as they look away.

Anyway, I’ll look forward to meeting you when you get down here, Beshara.  Tell you when, when you see me in person, if you want to crack me up right out of the gate?  Just walk up and say “Eyepatch.”

 

Hey mon,

I got a surprise for ya, mon!  Dat letter ya got from Tandeleina in ya last mailbag?  She was right, mon!  I am Vol’jin!  She figured it out, mon!  I’m up an’ kickin’ an’ still on da loose!  Ya bettah watch ya back, mon, ’cause I be comin’ for ya!

–Bob, Shado-Pan Mon Echo Isles

Okay, seriously, dude, do you think I haven’t figured out your MO yet?  Come on.  This jackass keeps writing to me, and more often than not he just comes up with some crazy ridiculous bullshit to yank my chain and jerk me around.  And you know what?  I’m man enough to admit a lot of the time he’s gotten me to bite.  He’ll write some load of crap, and I’ll take the bait, and rant at him about it for a while, and meanwhile I’m sure he’s kicking back in troll-land laughing his ass off because trolls think positively EVERYTHING is fucking hilarious because felweed.

Well guess what.  You’re not getting me this time, Bobbo.  Yeah, you’re Vol’jin.  Sure you are.  Absolutely.  You somehow miraculously survived the attack in the saurok cave, and you’ve gone off in hiding to heal up, and meanwhile you’ve been putting this WHOLE GIANT CONSPIRACY together behind my back, I’m sure, and recruiting people to help you, and biding your time before The Glorious Revolution where you overthrow me or some shit.

Yeah, sure.  That’s real fucking likely.

Probably.

…

Where did I put that note from AlternateTimeline!Faranell again…?