Archive for northwatch hold

What goes around

Posted in General, Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 4, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

It’s been four days since the Razing of Northwatch Hold.  We’ve been camped here at the base without a sign of Alliance retaliation.  I’ve been mulling over a few possibilities that are still in play for the next step, and giving our troops time to rest and build up their anticipation for the next battle.  Apparently, though, the down time has just given some of the higher-ups time to stir up trouble for themselves.  You know what they say about idle hands.

Malkorok came to me claiming that a batch of the other leaders were planning to gather to talk mutiny.  I didn’t put much stock in it at first.  It’s no secret that Vol’jin and Baine aren’t crazy about my plan, but in the end, they’re loyal to the Horde.  Malkorok is dedicated to his job, and good at it, but sometimes I think he gets a little overzealous looking for conspiracies and enemies behind every shadow.  Maybe it just comes from all that time in the Blackrock clan under Rend.  Anyway, this sounded like one of those overzealous times.

At least that’s what I thought.

Today, Zixx Grindgear – one of the goblin zeppelin captains – came to see me.  Malkorok wasn’t going to let him in originally, but the little guy managed to convince him he had some news I needed to hear.  When Malkorok brought him to see me, Grindgear claimed that Hamuul Runetotem had asked him to attend a meeting with Baine and others to discuss their…“concerns” about the mission.  At this point, it was too much to brush off, so I told Grindgear to go ahead and attend the meeting.  Malkorok and I wouldn’t be far behind him.

When we left to check up on this meeting – along with a detachment of Kor’kron I was hoping I wouldn’t need – I decided to bring Mokvar along as well, to keep a record or whatever we found.

What we found made my blood boil.


Garrosh, Malkorok, and Mokvar approach the tree where several Horde figures have gathered around a campfire: Baine Bloodhoof, Vol’jin, Hamuul Runetotem, Frandis Farley, Kelantir Bloodblade, Captain Zixx Grindgear, first mate Blar Xyzzik, Margolag.  Garrosh et al listen from the nearby bushes as the meeting carries on.

BAINE:  …our purpose here tonight is not to lead an insurrection, but to discuss what he has done up until this point and the wisdom – or lack thereof – of his choices.

FRANDIS:  I serve the Horde.  But it seems the Horde does not serve me, or my lady.  We were once human; I myself once lived in the very city of Stormwind, which is certain to come beating down on us at any moment.  The Alliance is surely aware of what has happened by now, and I think Lady Jaina too wise a leader not to know that Theramore could be next in line to fall.  Yet knowing all this, Lady Sylvanas agreed to send aid to the endeavor.  But to what end?  We are gathered!  The Horde has food, supplies, and for those of you whose blood still flows in your veins, I know that blood burns hot for battle.  Why is he waiting?  Each day that passes, his troops become more uncertain.  This is not wisdom.  This is simply…irresponsibility.

KELANTIR:  I agree with Captain Farley.  His lands and ours are vulnerable if the humans decide to retaliate there instead of sending ships to Theramore.  The swifter the strike, the swifter the reward.  I cannot comprehend why Garrosh delays.  More time serves our enemies and harms us.

BLAR:  I don’t know why he did this in the first place.  Trade Prince Gallywix might see coffers overflowing with gold, but all I see are goblins being used as cannon fodder for no real profit.

VOL’JIN:  You all know da trolls be a proud an’ ancient people.  We joined da Horde because Sen’jin had a vision dat T’rall would help us.  Lead us to safety.  An’ he did.  He was a good leader.  Now T’rall be gone, and Garrosh be in his place.  T’rall, he understand da elements, da spirits.  He be da first new shaman his people had seen in a long, long time.  We understand da elements, da spirits too, an’ I tell ya true now, what dat Garrosh did wit’ his dark shaman – it make da spirits angry.  I don’ know how long he be able to control dose molten giants, an’ if he don’t… Well we all saw da Cataclysm.  Dat was da world in pain from Deat’wing.  How much worse is it gonna be if da elements be in pain from da Horde?  Who you tink dey gonna attack?  It be us, mon.

As Vol’jin speaks, Malkorok steps out of the bushes, accompanied by several Kor’kron, and approaches the group purposefully.

MALKOROK:  Yes, it be you who suffer, mon, but not from the elements!

Some of the group reflexively reach for their weapons.

BAINE:  No!  Lay down your weapons!  Lay them down!

MALKOROK:  The bull speaks wisely.  If I see any weapons in the next three heartbeats, I will slay their owners.

Garrosh steps into the assembly.

GARROSH:  I did not believe it…

The Kor’kron guards circle around the group.

I had word of your little meeting…

Garrosh looks to Zixx Grindgear and nods; Zixx goes to Garrosh and stands uncomfortably behind him.

I came to observe, with my own eyes and ears, what Malkorok said was true.

BAINE:  If you saw and heard it all, then you know that this was not treachery.  No one sought to overthrow you.  No one here chanted “Death to Garrosh.”  What was said here was said out of concern for the Horde, which we are all devoted to.

MALKOROK:  To question the Horde’s Warchief is to question the Horde.

BAINE:  It does so only if, in your mind, two plus two equals five.  Our concerns are valid, Warchief.  Many of us have sought audiences with you so that we might say these things to your face, so what we might have answers or explanations.  The only reason we are gathered here tonight is because you would not see us!

GARROSH:  I do not need to answer to you, tauren.  Or you, troll.  You are not are not not noitarud are setutitsnoc not troll hcihw not siht si not you ti stnemom you tsap fo yromem eht fo gnileef all tneserp eht ot noitidda eht the tuohtiw etats a fo noitaunitnoc on dna scourges yromem tuohtiw ssensuoicsnoc of on si ereht ecnis tnemom yreve war egnahc ton seod hcihw elpmis revewoh dnim fo etats on si ereht the taht noitcejbo the eht not the epacse not tonnac not i not not the not the one we…

[Blinks and shakes his head, then looks around briefly and lets out a frustrated sigh.]

…that is…not the ones we need to worry about.


True enough.  Still, if they’re backing up and converging in the Deadwind Pass, I’d…Mokvar, are you taking notes?


[Looks up while frantically writing.]

Hmm?  Wha…oh.  Oh, no, I’m…I mean…maybe?



Adelene’s official transcript not good enough for you?  And actually, when did you become a scribe in the first place?


Oh…um…well…  Night classes?


Uh, yeah…I, um, kind of encouraged him to expand his interests.


Under pain of…well, pain.


Wait, what?


Never mind.


Yeah, so, um, how about them demons?


[Perks an eyebrow but turns back to Zaela.]

Right…so… If they are converging on Deadwind, I’d like to have an idea of what they’re doing.


Do you want to send a scouting party to gather more intel?


Maybe something that doesn’t put our people so much in harm’s way.  I’m wondering if some of our warlocks could determine anything about the demons’ activity.


I can ask around in the Cleft of Shadows and see if Neeru Fireblade and the others think they can do anything.


Good enough for a start.


What’s the state of the Silvermoon evacuation?


The last few gunships should be leaving by the end of the day.


We’re sure the magic barrier around Quel’Danas will hold?


It should.  Those incantations patched together the strongest warding magics the Sha’tari, Argent Crusade, and Kirin Tor have to offer.


Basically, if they don’t hold, there likely wasn’t anything we could have set in place that would.


Once the last of the Silvermoon contingent gets here, we can redeploy as need be around Kalimdor or Northrend.


By the way, speaking of which, who was that guy leading the blood elf regiments at Elrendar?  That guy was pretty badass – I saw him make short work of a TON of those Scourge.


You mean Lor’themar?


Is that his name?  Sounds familiar.  Who is he?


Um, he’s Regent-Lord of Quel’thalas.




Yeah, uh, leader of the blood elves?


Oh, don’t YOU start acting like you always remember—




Uh, yeah, never mind.  Anyway, that guy bears watching for other missions, is all I’m saying.


You’ll have the chance to work with him again soon enough.  He and Liadrin will be arriving on the last gunship, once they’ve seen that the last of the evacuees are out.


I assume Lady Liadrin will want to rejoin the other Argent forces in Northrend.


I would think so.


We’ve also had a request from Lady Proudmoore for supplementary forces to be sent to Theramore.


[Bristles briefly.]

Might…uh…that might be a good spot for some of the incoming Silvermoon troops…




Perhaps a combined detachment of some of the incoming blood elves and a platoon or two of our troops from somewhere like Feralas?


[Glaring at Magatha.]

Since when are you an expert on troop deployment?


I’m not, certainly.  I merely suppose it might be beneficial to send support from multiple quarters of the Horde.


It would be a positive gesture diplomatically…


And I only suggest Feralas because, at present, there’s very little activity there, so we could likely spare the personnel.


I’d just as soon not weaken any of our stable positions is all, though.


It’s worth considering, but I would agree with Garrosh – if we’re going to divert any Kalimdor units, it might be a better plan to send a regiment or two from Camp Taurajo.

[Garrosh glances to Mokvar, smiling faintly.]

Speaking of which, Garrosh, while we’re talking about sending support to Theramore, I want to get your opinion.  I’ve been thinking it would be a good idea to deploy a standing officer for our forces in Theramore, to provide military advice and represent the Horde in command decisions.


Makes sense.


I’m considering General Krom’gar.  You’ve worked with him before, haven’t you?  What do you think?


[Glances uneasily at Mokvar.]

Oh… Umm…


Is something wrong?


Well…to tell the truth… Krom’gar’s a good soldier and all, but…I’m not sure he’s someone I would want to point to and say “This guy represents the Horde.”  I guess you might say he has some…temperament issues.



Pot, kettle?



Hey, you asked.


Hmm.  Well I’ll have a look at a few other options.  In the meantime…do we have any other business, Warlord?


That covers all the scouting reports, Warchief.


In that case, I think that’s meeting adjourned.

[Eitrigg and Zaela start gathering documents from the conference table.]


Warchief, a minor question if I may?


What is it, Magatha?


As we’re done here, might I make use of the war room for a brief meeting with General Grebo?

[Garrosh bristles at the name and glares at Magatha.]

I have an appointment with him momentarily, and, not knowing how long our meeting would run today, asked him to meet me here.


That’s fine, Magatha.  I need to make a few stops around Orgrimmar anyway.

[Grins as he walks to the door.]

No crazy parties while I’m out.


Thank you, Warchief.  Good day.

Dranosh’s scribe’s record stops here, so time to kick it back over to Mokvar…

Dranosh exits the Grommash Hold war room, accompanied by Eitrigg and scribe Adelene Sunlace.  Warlord Zaela follows close behind.

GARROSH:  <calling after the others>  You all go on, I’ll catch up in a minute.  I just need to talk to Mokvar about something for a minute.

MAGATHA:  I can go if you wish, Overlord.  Would you prefer privacy?

Magatha begins to walk past Garrosh, heading toward the door.

GARROSH:  Actually, some privacy would definitely be a good thing.

As Magatha passes, Garrosh suddenly strikes her with his fist, knocking her to the ground.  She cries out as she falls, then looks around in confusion.

MAGATHA:  What— Overlord, what is it?

Garrosh grabs her by her cloak and flings her across the room, away from the door.

GARROSH:  What is it?  Oh, oh, Magatha, I wouldn’t even know where to start…

Garrosh walks past Magatha – striking her down again as he passes – and toward the platform on which the Warchief’s chair stands.

GARROSH:  <looking to Mokvar from the Warchief’s seat>  Only a couple things badly out of place in this world, wouldn’t you say?

Garrosh reaches above the Warchief’s seat and pulls Gorehowl from the wall, where it hangs on display in honor of Grom Hellscream.  Garrosh turns and walks back toward Magatha, wielding the axe.

MAGATHA:  Overlord!  Garrosh!  You mustn’t!  I— I— I haven’t done anything!

GARROSH:  And you never will.

Garrosh swings Gorehowl down furiously, slashing Magatha’s head from her body.

MOKVAR:  Garrosh…you…

GARROSH:  Is this the part where you try to tell me this one was innocent?  Really?

MOKVAR:  No… I mean… I just…

Footsteps come from the entrance to the war room.  Seconds later, General Grebo enters and immediately gawks at the sight of Magatha’s headless body across the room.

GREBO:  <running over to the body>  What— what happened here?  What have you done?

GARROSH:  It’s funny you should ask, Grebo…

Garrosh eyes Grebo for a moment, then walks up to him and pushes Gorehowl into his hands.

What we’ve done…is hear a commotion in here, then come back to find you standing over what’s left of Magatha Grimtotem with the bloody axe still in your hands.  <looks back at Mokvar>  Isn’t that right, Mokvar?

GREBO:  Wh-what?!

GARROSH:  Isn’t it, Mokvar?

MOKVAR:  <nods slowly>  That’s the way I remember it.

GREBO:  But…I…Overlord, you…

GARROSH:  And to think…you just helped yourself to Gorehowl to use as the murder weapon…

Garrosh stands eye to eye with Grebo, tapping on Gorehowl with one finger.

That axe belonged to my father, you know.  Did you know that, Grebo?

GREBO:  <looking back and forth, panicked, between Garrosh, Mokvar, and Gorehowl>  But I…sir, you just…I don’t…

GARROSH:  And I’ll be DAMNED before I let someone stroll in and tarnish my family’s honor like that, Grebo.

Garrosh grabs Gorehowl and yanks it back out of Grebo’s hands.

My mother taught me that.

GREBO:  Garrosh…Overlord…you can’t possibly be serious—

MOKVAR:  Is he resisting arrest?  Sounds to me like he’s maybe resisting arrest.

GARROSH:  You know, I think you may be right.  <to Grebo>  Please resist arrest.  Please.


On the down side, Grebo didn’t put up much more of an argument.  Probably because he was too baffled to come up with much more to say, but whatever.  I don’t need to know the details from this world.  The fact that he had SOMETHING going on with Magatha, considering he was on the take in our reality, is all I needed to hear.

We handed him over to Dranosh traight away.  I thought at least THEN he would have tried to put up an argument, but no.  HE just kept quiet – resigned.  I suppose I can’t blame him.  He knew as well as I did – Dranosh didn’t need to hear any more than the account Mokvar and I gave him.  What chance was there he would ever listen to the likes of Grebo over me?

It didn’t take long to be settled.  Dranosh sentenced Grebo sentenced Grebo Grebo ytienatnatsni sentenced ylno grebo settled tub grebo noitarud on grebo dranosh eb dluow dranosh ereht tneserp eht otni tsap eht fo lavivrus siht tuohtiw all redlo worg ew sa su dniheb gard ew daol reivaeh llits dna reivaeh eht the ytilauq fo egnahc launitnoc sti yb gniwohs yldnuoforp scourges erom ro tsap eht fo egami gniworg ylsselesaec eht mrof tcnitsid of a ni ti nihtiw gniniatnoc rehtie tneserp eht tneserp war eht otni tsap eht sgnolorp hcihw yromem a fo two efil suounitnoc two eht phase two si phase noitarud phase renni phase phase two phase two is ready to go, on my go-ahead.  We should be poised for a great victory, and all the while all I hear are complaints and objections.  One outburst of dissent after another, keeping Malkorok a dozen times busier than I ever thought he would need to be.

And you know, here’s the thing.  I never asked for this job.  Thrall appointed me as Warchief in his place because he thought I represented the best option for the Horde, and since then I’ve done everything I could think to do to secure our future and assure our rightful place in the world – in a position of strength.  People forget that ever since the Burning Legion came to Draenor, our people have gone from one brand of slavery to another – to the demons, to the blood haze, to the humans.  Never again.  I’ve tried to guarantee that our people would never again call someone or something else master.  If the humans and elves need to be put in their place in the process, so be it.  If the humans end up paying for some of what they’ve done to our kind, all the better.

And yet all I hear, over and over, are the objections.  Try to secure our place in Kalimdor, and it’s “Garrosh, you mustn’t!”  Go to war with the ENEMY WE ARE SUPPOSEDLY AT WAR WITH, and hear nothing but “Oh Garrosh, how could you?”  You know, maybe Dranosh was on to something in that other world.  As much as it sickens me to imagine working with the humans – “Sure, you held our fathers in internment camps and almost broke our entire civilization, but sure, no hard feelings!” – maybe it’s just less of a damn headache.

And you know what?  Who’s to say that this timeline – the world we’re in now – is the one that was supposed to happen?

All I know is that I look around in that world, and see people still alive who deserve to be, and people dead who deserve the same.  Dranosh and Cairne, and Patrick Faranell and the family he should have had the chance to have.  Magatha.  Grebo.  No goddamn war for everyone to bitch and moan about, and someone else in this job to listen to the bitching rather than me.  Someone BETTER at it than me.

But this world, the one that’s supposed to be the right one?  Everything is backwards.  Upside down.  Nothing is the way it should be.  So you know what?  Bring on the other world.  Let it bleed on in.  Soridormi said Faranell’s become a shatter point in time?  Then bring him here so I can kick the cracks and make them crack faster.  Sure, we’ll have to find something to do for Faranell.  We can’t leave him doomed to spend forever bouncing around in time.  But we WILL find something.  We always do – we find ourselves in these situations, and agonize and torment ourselves until we find that magic escape clause.  We’ll save him somehow.

But this world we’re in now – this one is the nightmare.  A little longer, and we’ll all finally be able to wake up.

And all I have to do is sit here and do nothing.


Brothers in arms

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , on September 2, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

These timeline flashes have gotten me thinking of a lot of things, not least of all the years in Nagrand before Thrall came.  I dug my old journal out again for the first time in months and have been paging through it some today.  This entry goes back to when I was a teenager.  A million years ago and yesterday all at once…


Dranosh and I spent the morning riding out to Sunspring Post to go fishing.  Most of the way we just talked about how weird Jorin has been acting lately.  We used to be pretty good friends, but the last couple months, since he found out about his dad being chieftain of the Bleeding Hollow clan, he’s kinda started turning into a dick, like be’s better than us all of a sudden.

When we got to Sunspring Post, there was a big buzz going on about a hunting party that had been attacked.  They had been out doing their usual clefthoof and talbuk hunting, when a gronn came down from the hills.  It killed two members of the party before they could even react.  The rest of them made a run for it and made it back to the village.

Dranosh overheard this whole discussion going on and gave me that look of his and said, “I know we came out here to go fishing, but what do you say to a hunting trip?”  So off we went.

We wandered around the western hills for a while before we found the gronn.  At first it looked like it was fighting some ogres and windrocs, but when we got closer we could see the gronn and the ogres were fighting together.  Hunting windrocs for food, maybe?  I remember Greatmother telling me that ogres were descended from gronn, so I guess the Warmaul ogre clan was getting buddy-buddy with a semi-distant cousin?

Anyway, by this point the ogres had noticed us and were running in to attack us.  Dranosh took down the first two to reach us before I could even draw my axes – I’ve got to remember to ask him some time to show me that move of his where he hacks into two targets at once.  It’s pretty badass.

Dranosh started duking it out with the gronn while I charged in on a couple warlocks – you know, the ones that all seem to have two heads – that were peppering us with shadow bolts.  I ran up on them, and hacked one head off of each of them, one with each hand.  Double axe action!  The best part, though was how once each ogre was down one head, the two remaining heads looked at each other with these hilarious “Oh shit” expressions – which gave me just enough time to finish my follow-through, wind up again, and lop off those heads too.

Dranosh was mostly keeping it together against the gronn, but right when I’d finished with the warlocks (and chopped up their damn imps for dessert), the gronn got hold of Dranosh and flung him against the mountainside.  I leapt to him just as the last couple ogre maulers were running over.  We each squared off with one.  They turned out to be a hell of a lot tougher than the others.  Dranosh and I weaved back and forth around them, trading off targets, maneuvering to help set each other up – we’d fought together before, obviously, but it was the first time I remember ever noticing how well we know each other’s instincts in battle.  All those years of sparring and practicing together…all those times we’d seen each seen every one of the other’s moves – we’ve reached a point where we can play off of each other without even thinking about it.  Without even trying to.

Eventually we maneuvered so we were standing back to back with the ogres flailing away at us from either side, lashing into our parries harder with every swing.  We let them back us a little closer to each other, then Dranosh glanced back at me and said, “Count of three?”  I just answered with “One.”  He added “Two,” I added “Three,” and then, with both ogres in mid-swing, we ducked down and away, and let the ogres cut each other down for us.

By this point, the gronn was on top of us again, and we both went to work on it.  He hung in there for a while – he was a resilient bastard – but he was too slow and clumsy to keep up with the two of us for long.  Little by little we wore him down, and in a little while we made our way back to Sunspring Post – with a gronn head in hand to show it was safe to go hunting again.

On the down side, the fish weren’t really biting at the lake.  Looks like we spent all that time walking out here for nothing.  Oh well.


That wasn’t the first or the last time we’d fought together shoulder to shoulder.  There were dozens of hunting trips back in Garadar, and the Warmaul ogres kept us busy on more than one occasion keeping the place safe.  So many memories of us charging together into so many fights we should have known better than to try by ourselves, then coming out alive because we were just too stubborn not to.  Because neither of us was going to let the other die.  Us against the world, we thought.  Spirits help the world.

And yet, now I have these other memories.  Dim and fuzzy, incomplete, but still there.  Dranosh and I, charging into battle together.  In Northrend.  In the Twilight Highlands.  Memories I wasn’t even there for, except that I was.  Me, but not me.  Another me…maybe a better me.  The life I would have lived – the life I DID live, if we don’t reset the timeline back to the “real” one.

Maybe the life I SHOULD have lived.

Meanwhile I sit here in Northwatch Hold, biding my time on the next battle, while half my underlings grumble and complain, as if the victory we just won wasn’t suitably victorious for them.  Sometimes it seems as if Malkorok is the only one that understands what I’m trying to do here, and even he…well, I don’t know if he’s the type you ever feel totally at ease with.  Even when you know he’s on your side.

More and more, I find myself wishing Dranosh was still here.

March of destruction

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 31, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

We made our move on the Barrens today.  Northwatch Hold never knew what hit it.

While Baine and Vol’jin got their people moving from Mulgore, I gathered our troops in Orgrimmar and started our march from there.  Mokvar, Malkorok, and most of the other likely suspects came with me.  Eitrigg stayed behind to watch the store while I’m away.

We marched down from the Crossroads to Ratchet, where the blood elves, goblins, and Forsaken had sent ships carrying their troops.  Of all the leaders, though, Gallywix was the only one who had actually shown up himself, and even he wasn’t actually planning to join the fight.  Probably just as well – I don’t really see his fat, cigar-chomping ass being much help on the battlefield, and as long as the other goblins are here with their siege engines, that’s all we need.  Meanwhile, Sylvanas and What’s-His-Name sent lieutenants – Captain Frandis Farley and Kelantir Bloodblade, respectively – to lead their troops.  I don’t know anything about Farley other than him seeming kind of permanently slackjawed (literally), but Kelantir says she trained under Liadrin, so hopefully that bodes well.

Once all our forces were gathered, we marched down to Northwatch.  Then we struck.  Orcs, elves, goblins, and Forskaen from one side, tauren and trolls from the other.  It was all the Northwatch soldiers could do not to crumble immediately.  I’d figured going in that these humans wouldn’t be much of a match, but just to make sure – and give a new potential weapon a field test – I ordered into battle the special regiment of shaman who’ve been preparing for this campaign.

The shaman moved in close to the hold, under heavy Kor’kron guard.  Then they focused their incantations on the boulders just off the shore.  The stones shook, and steamed, and started to melt.  They grew so hot that not even the surrounding water could cool them – the sea itself boiled as the shaman channeled their magic.  The rocks shifted and melted and fused together, and then…breathed.  And then they walked up onto the land, molten giants, lashing out furiously out furiously furiously efil out ot furiously giants emoc furiously emit seod furiously lashing spots kcolc lashing eht nehw ylno sleehw i elttil yb havent ffo dekcilc done gnieb si anything ti sa gnol sa forces daed si forces emit silvermoon forces emit silvermoon yals silvermoon skcolc Silvermoon Silvermoon forces Silvermoon forces, along with the troops we’d brought from Orgrimmar, cut down hundreds of invaders and held them back as best they could, but the undead just kept coming.  Thousands of them.  Ghouls, gargoyles, abominations, vargul.  They came and came, wave after wave.  Finally, the eastern wing fell, and countless undead flooded across the Elrendar River into Eversong.

Dranosh didn’t look away from the sight while he reminded me – as if he had to – that we had to hold them here until the shield was up, that we had to give Kalecgos and the others more time.  I watched the droves of undead rush closer and said, “I’ll get the five thousand on the left, you get the five thousand on the right.”  He just nodded and answered, “We can split the ten thousand in the middle.”  And down we jumped.

Scourge are like hornets – they might sting individually, but they’re only really dangerous because they can swarm you with so many at once.  Dranosh and I slashed through I don’t know how many skeletons and zombies.  Bits of Nerubians strewn everywhere.  Switching off, trading places, one of us starting to dice up the newest batch, then giving was for the other to finish it off.  Dranosh hacking one wing off a valkyr, then grabbing her as she careened on one wing toward a pack of skeletons and letting her trajectory carry his blade clean through them all.  Me getting a couple dozen zombies chasing me double-file down a gully, then heroic leaping to the back of their lines, then charging to the front again, running straight up the middle and swiping both my axes through zombies on either side while I ran.  Both of us barking a kill count at each other as we slashed away.

At one point we positioned ourselves back to back while duking it out with a pair of abominations.  While the aboms lashed their chains at us and we countered each swing, Dranosh leaned back to me and said, “Ogre dodge?”  I answered, “Count of three” – we counted down, gave one last feint, then both ducked out of the way while the aboms swiped their chains clean through each others’ heads.

We were cutting a swath through waves of undead while the Silvermoon regiments regrouped and the gunships finally arrived, when it started to dawn on me between swings that it had been years since the two of us had fought side by side.  Only it hadn’t.  In some foggy half-remembered memories, we’d gone into battle together so many times many times times oga many sraey times together dnasuoht times net nageb i worromot havent dna done worromot anything litnu revo triumphant laugh eb triumphant tnow triumphant yadretsey triumphant triumphant laugh triumphant laugh, with Malkorok joining in beside me, as we watched the handful of Alliance survivors flee like the rats they are.

It took a little doing to get the molten giants reined in, but my shaman were able to set them back to rest.  Baine wasn’t exactly thrilled about us playing that particular elemental card, and he had a few choice words about it.  Malkorok shouted him down some, but it probably wasn’t necessary.  They both mean well, but they also both tend to get a little too worked up a little too quickly.  Good thing I’m around to be the level-headed one.

We’ve set up camp here in Northwatch while we recuperate and tend to our wounded.  Not too many of those, though, as it turns out – a tribute to how smoothly the entire plan ended up being executed.  We’ll stay here until the time is right for the main event – the attack on Theramore.  There are still a few variables I need to make some decisions on, but we have time.  Right now it’s time to savor the first of many triumphs.

Victory for the Horde!

Readying for war

Posted in General with tags , , , , , , , , , , on August 30, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

Preparations are going well for our moves against the Alliance.  I’ve issued orders to the various leaders for troop assignments and gotten confirmation back.  Begrudging confirmations in most cases, but confirmations nonetheless.  Strangely enough, the only one who seems even remotely jazzed about us going on the offensive is Gallywix, although I suppose it might just be that EVERYTHING seems more exciting when you’ve been hiding in a cave or at the bottom of the ocean or wherever the fuck he’s been all this time.

Granted, I’m pretty sure he’s only enthused because his cartel is getting paid and because he figures taking over Kalimdor will mean a stranglehold on trade.  And I’ll be the first one to admit that I was lukewarm at best about the goblins joining the Horde in the first place.  Part of that was Thrall sending that representative from the Lost Isles with a letter telling me to admit them into the Horde – like, dude, knock it off with the backseat Warchiefing, okay?  I mean I know I was still new at the job and it was a whole “acting Warchief” deal, but come on.  Plus it really didn’t help matters that after he told me to admit the goblins, he decided to be cute and finish the letter with “And yes, I would like fries with that.”

Anyway, though, Gallywix and his people are turning out to be useful as far as getting siege engines built, along with another heavy combat transport or two that may come in handy for a possible part of the Theramore plan.  So at least they’re good for something.

If nothing else, it’s good to finally get this plan back off the backburner again.  I know it’s been a while since I’ve mentioned moving on Theramore, and some of you were probably starting to wonder if I’d just dropped it.  Never was the case.  I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t rushing into a bad game plan out of anger and setting us all up for the whole thing to blow up in our faces.  That and realizing there were a few parts of the original plan that probably weren’t that great an idea.  And then we had that whole anti-plague business start up in Southshore, and off we went to the Caverns of Time…and yeah.  Anyway, now we’re all back – well, at least until the next time the timeline decides to go all KAPOW on us again, but there’s no sense sitting around picking our noses waiting on that to happen.  And everything’s ready to go.

When he had the big council meeting in Grommash Hold the other day, Baine and Vol’jin in particular were fairly grumpy about what I had planned.  With Vol’jin I can kind of understand, seeing as he pretty much just likes to be a pain in the ass.  But I’m not too crazy about this whole vibe I’ve been getting from lots of people since I’ve been Warchief, this whole “Hold on, hold on, I know we’re at war with the Alliance and everything, but OMG we can’t actually ATTACK them like WTF!” deal some people seem to have going on.  Uh, yeah, fuckers, that’s what you fucking DO.

So when I issued marching orders for the first step of our attack plan, I tried to build in a little reminder of what’s actually going on for Baine and Vol’jin.  Baine is going to gather his forces at the Great Gate in Mulgore.  Vol’jin, likewise, is rounding up his trolls from the Echo Isles and take them to Mulgore to join forces with Baine.  Granted, that’s a long trip for them, but it should pay off in a few ways.  One, those scrawny-ass trolls could probably use the exercise.  Two, it helps give the tauren some backup for any fighting they get into as they cross the southern Barrens.  And three, it means that on their way to Northwatch Hold, Baine and Vol’jin will both be leading their people right by what’s left of Camp Taurajo.

I hope they march slowly.  Let them take a good long look and remember what these humans they’re so eager to keep the peace with have done to us.

I’ve got to make a few stops around Orgrimmar to make some final preparations.  With any luck, by the end of the day we’ll be ready to start our march from here.

More updates soon.

Live Blog: Tides of War

Posted in General, Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 28, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream


[Today marks the one-year anniversary of Garrosh’s first post on the Warchief’s Command Board.  To commemorate the occasion, which serendipitously coincides with the release of Jaina Proudmoore: Tides of War by Christie Golden, this post will tie into some of the events of the novel in the form of a LIVE BLOG.  The post will be added to over the course of the night so that you will be able to read it in progress as it is written.  Continue refreshing this page to update its contents.  Also feel free to use the comments to engage with other live readers as the on-the-fly story unfolds!]

I haven’t mentioned this with everything else that’s been going on lately, but several days ago I sent letters out to the other leaders of the Horde to come to Grommash Hold for a special council.  An inner circle of key advisors and I have been working on a number of plans over the past few weeks, one in particular that I’ve been keeping on the back burner for far too long.  The time has finally come to begin the next stage in the glorious history of the Horde, and it’s only fitting that everyone gather to bear witness to its beginning.

Practically all the major players have been arriving the last few hours — Baine Bloodhoof and Hamuul Runetotem from Thunder Bluff…Sylvanas Windrunner from the Undercity…what’s-his-name, that blood elf guy from Silvermoon.  Vol’jin’s come up from the Echo Isles, even though I usually don’t have a whole lot of patience for him.  Hell, even Trade Prince Gallywix crawled out from underneath whatever rock he usually hides under to attend.  Everybody’s brought a considerable contingent of aides and lieutenants with them, and naturally I have a good-sized contingent of my people from here in Orgrimmar to show their support — Eitrigg, obviously, along with a slew of other aides and supporters like Shok Narnes, Captain Drok, Invoker Xorenth.  Mokvar, of course, who’s going to make it a whole lot easier to record and post the meeting.  Pretty much the only heavy hitter not here is Saurfang, and, well, I can see why he would decline the invitation, considering.

I waited outside the war room while everyone gathered and got settled into their places.  I had my aide Malkorok — who’s been growing more and more important in our developing plans — watched over the gathering, then prepared them for my grant entrance.  See, in addition to being an ongoing advisor and newly appointed supervisor of internal security, Malkorok’s also a pretty damn good hype man.  So he took a minute to work up the crowd, and then…well, hey, why don’t I kick it over to Mokvar, who I think Spazzle hooked up to be able to feed his meeting notes straight on up to the blog…


MALKOROK:  Your leader, the mighty Garrosh Hellscream, approaches!  Show him all honor!

The assembly stands and burst into cheers as Garrosh enters, holding his arms wide with Gorehowl in hand.

GARROSH:  I bid you all welcome!  You are true servants of the Horde.  Your Warchief calls you, and you come.  <surveying the assembly>  Much has transpired since I assumed the mantle of Warchief…

VOL’JIN:  <aside to Baine>  Most of it bad, mon.

GARROSH:  We have faced trials and danger, threats to our world and our way of life.  And yet, we persevere.  We are the HORDE!  We will not let anything break our spirits!

Garrosh raises Gorehowl above his head, and, starting with the orcs present, the assembly cheers.

GARROSH:  You do not disappoint me.

VOL’JIN:  <aside to Baine>  Wish I could say da same, mon.

GARROSH:  You are the finest representatives of your races – the leaders, the generals.  And that is why I called you here.

Garrosh settles into his throne and gestures for the assembly to sit as well.

GARROSH:  There is a menace that has been present for too long, which we must now root out without any mercy.

VOL’JIN:  <aside to Baine>  Aw, no, mon, don’ be so hard on yaself.

BAINE:  <struggling to stifle his chortling>  Stop…stop it!

GARROSH:  A threat that has challenged us for years, to which we have, until recently, turned a blind eye in the mistaken notion that tolerance of a little shame will do no harm to the mighty Horde.  I have—

Vol’jin and Baine glance at each other.  Vol’jin doubles over and lets a chuckle escape.

GARROSH:  Hmm?  You had something to add, troll?

VOL’JIN:  No, no, dat was just a sneeze, mon.

GARROSH:  A sneeze.

VOL’JIN:  Yah, mon.  Allergy season, ya know.

Garrosh exchanges a look with Malkorok, who shrugs.

GARROSH:  Um, yeah.  As I was saying.  And have said, and say again – ANY shame is a great shame!

VOL’JIN:  <aside to Baine>  A damn dirty shame, mon.

Baine lowers his head over the table and chortles.

GARROSH:  Any— Um, you too, birthday boy?

BAINE:  <wipes a tear from his eye while looking up>  Apologies, Warchief.  I think I may be having some…trouble with allergies as well.

VOL’JIN:  I tink dere might be a bug goin’ round, mon.

GARROSH:  Oh for fuck’s sake… Ugh.  Never mind.  I…where was I again?

MOKVAR:  “Any shame is a great shame.”

Baine and Vol’jin double over slightly, barely containing another fit of chuckles.

GARROSH:  Right, right.  Any shame is a great shame – ANY injury is a great injury!  And apparently any sniffle is a great fucking sneezing epidemic.  But whatever.  Point is, WE WILL ENDURE IT NO LONGER!

Vol’jin smirks at Baine and gives an exaggerated nod.

GARROSH:  We have a destiny to fulfill.  And there is an obstacle to that destiny – one that we must crush beneath our feet like the insignificant insect it truly is.  For far too long – nay, even a MOMENT would be too long! – the Alliance pests, not content with their stranglehold over the Eastern Kingdoms—

SYLVANAS and LOR’THEMAR:  <overlapping>  Hey now!

GARROSH:  —have wormed their ways into OUR lands, OUR territory.  Into Kalimdor.  Chipping away at our resources and sullying the very earth with their presence!  They are crippling us, preventing us from growing, from reaching the heights that I know – I KNOW – we are capable of achieving!  For I believe in my heart that it is not our fate to bow and scrape and sue for peace before the Alliance.  It is our right to dominate and control this land of Kalimdor.  It is ours, and we will claim it as such!

Led by Malkorok, many of the orcs stand and cheer emphatically.  After a few moments, the cheers subside.

GARROSH:  To that end, it is my intent to lead the Horde on a mission that will restore us to our rightful path.  Our first target will be Northwatch Hold.  We will raze it.  And once we have reclaimed that land as ours, we will move on to the next step – THERAMORE!

Baine, Vol’jin, Malkorok, and several others spring to their feet – some cheering, some crying out in protest.  Frandis Farley – one of Sylvanas’ Forsaken lieutenants – shouts over the din.

FRANDIS:  Warchief!  The lady Jaina is too powerful!  She has been passive and quiet.  Rouse her, and we will have war on our hands – a war we are not prepared to fight!

BAINE:  She has behaved with fairness time and again, when she could have responded with force or deceit!  Her diplomatic efforts and her decision to work with Warchief Thrall have saved countless lives!  To storm her realm with no provocation does not give honor to the Horde, and it is foolish besides!

MOKVAR:  Also I really, really hope this isn’t about your old guild leader

BAINE:  Wait, his what?

MOKVAR:  He had an old GM he was pissed at who turned out to be from Theramore.

VOL’JIN:  A GM from what, mon?

MOKVAR:  This MMO we play.

BAINE:  You’re…kidding.

VOL’JIN:  Hey mon, you don’ live in da basement in here too, do ya?

GARROSH:  WILL YOU SHUT IT?  Dammit, trolls should be seen and not heard.  Ideally not seen, either.

VOL’JIN:  Oh, so you wan’ me invisible, mon?

GARROSH:  If only.

VOL’JIN:  Like da Lich King’s horse!


VOL’JIN:  Sorry, mon.

Garrosh lets out a long sigh while Malkorok edges closer to Vol’jin’s side of the room, eyeing the troll chieftain uneasily.  Garrosh finally gathers himself.

GARROSH:  Now then…  First of all, Thrall has given leadership of the Horde to me.  Whatever HE did or did not do means nothing now.

VOL’JIN:  <aside>  Aye, you’ll be seein’ ta dat, won’t ya, mon?

GARROSH:  I am the Warchief, to whom you have all sworn loyalty.  My decisions are what matter.  And those of you who condemn my plan do not even know what it entails.  Be silent and listen!

Some – but not all – of the assembly return to their seats.

GARROSH:  You respond to this as if the conquest of Theramore were the goal.  I tell you now, it is only the beginning!  I do not speak solely of destroying the human foothold in Kalimdor.  I speak also, and even more vigorously, of the night elves.  Let them flee to the Eastern Kingdoms as we crush their cities and take their resources!

VOL’JIN:  Drive dem all out?  Dey been here longer dan we have.  An’ we try somet’ing like day, da Alliance be over us like bees on da honey!  You just be givin’ dem he excuse dey been looking for!

GARROSH:  My soul is sick of the back-and-forth in Ashenvale that has gone on nearly since we set foot in this world.  And I am even more sickened by our own blindness to what we should and must do.  The night elves claim compassion and wisdom, yet they murder us when we harvest a few trees that would provide life-giving shelter!  The night elves have lived here long enough.  Let them now linger only as a bad memory.  It is the Horde’s hour to reign on this continent, and reign we shall!  This is why Theramore is key, do you not understand?  <scanning around the chamber>  We crush Theramore, we stop the potential of Alliance reinforcement from the south.  And then – we give the night elves their due.

SYLVANAS:  <rising>  Warchief, the Alliance may indeed not send reinforcements.  Not at once, at least.  They will turn and vent their wrath instead upon those of us in the Eastern Kingdoms – my people and the sin’dorei.

Sylvanas looks to Lor’themar, who remains still and silent.

GARROSH:  Wait, who’s that guy again?

SYLVANAS:  Warchief?

GARROSH:  The blood elf guy.

SYLVANAS:  He’s…  <rubs her hand over her face>  Never mind.  The point is…Varian will march on my borders and destroy us!

EITRIGG:  Warchief, a word?

GARROSH:  I have heard from you already, my advisor.

BAINEWe have not.  Eitrigg was friend to my father and advisor to Thrall.  He knows the Alliance in a way few do.  Surely you do not object to the rest of us hearing what such a wise elder has to say?

GARROSH:  <glares at Baine, then nods to Eitrigg>  You may speak.

EITRIGG:  It is true that the Horde has done much to recover from the Cataclysm.  And it has been under your leadership, Warchief Garrosh.  You are right.  Yours is the title.  Yours are the decisions.  But yours also is the responsibility.  Think for a moment about the consequences the consequences consequences si the ti consequences moment ereh consequences dna gnikam consequences about erew ew about erutuf tahw kniht ot delbuort su ogre fo yna yldrah dodge dna dias consequences eh erutuf consequences eht dire consequences gnikam dire erew dire ewdire dire consequences dire consequences if we fail.

DRANOSH:  I know that all too well, Eitrigg.  Which is why I’m not going to do this if everyone isn’t in agreement.

Garrosh blinks a few times confusedly, then exchanges a concerned look with Mokvar.

CAIRNE:  <watching Garrosh closely>  Overlord?  Are you alright?

Garrosh looks up at Cairne and stares for a moment.

GARROSH:  I… Yeah.  I’m fine…Cairne…  Just had something in my eye for a second.

MOKVAR:  Might be allergy season…

DRANOSH:  At any rate… We all know what’s at stake here.  I know I’ve said more than once that I don’t intend to send more troops into a losing situation, but I think it’s safe to say this is a special case.

VOL’JIN:  I don’ tink dere’s anyone gonna argue, mon.  Quel’talas ain’t gonna hold long on its own, an’ we can’ let dem get to da Sunwell.  Not again.

DRANOSH:  A vote, then.  One last battle, to hold the line, at least long enough to do what needs to be done?

EITRIGG:  <scanning around>  All in favor?

Cairne, Eitrigg, Vol’jin, and Zaela raise their hands.  After a moment’s pause, Garrosh and Mokvar do the same.

EITRIGG:  And opposed?

VOL’JIN:  Dere’s nobody else here, mon.

EITRIGG:  Well, still.  It never hurts to be thorough.

DRANOSH:  I should get you to do my paperwork for me.

GARROSH:  You know, I bet he’d be good at that.

EITRIGG:  I would not wish to intrude on your confidential documents, Warchief.

GARROSH:  I’m sure he has plenty more important things to do with his time.

DRANOSH:  I am Warchief.

GARROSH:  Better you than me.

DRANOSH:  <smirks>  Spirits help us.  You’d be terrible at it.

GARROSH:  Well, it’s a good thing Thrall stuck YOU with the job then, isn’t it?

DRANOSH:  <still smirking> No, but really.  I think a basic campfire would probably do a better job than you.

GARROSH:  <smirks back>  Okay, enough.  That shit is hurtful.

DRANOSH:  What, are you turning sensitive all of a sudden?  What’s next, are you going to start writing poetry too?

GARROSH:  You never know.

VOL’JIN:  Tell you what, mon, we can plan da first readin’ after we out of da fire.

DRANOSH:  <turning back to the war map>  Well, we’re all agreed.  I’ll send a messenger to Silvermoon.  The rest of you know what needs to be done to prepare.

VOL’JIN:  Aye, mon.

ZAELA:  Yes, Warchief.

DRANOSH:  Let’s get to work, then.  Metting adjourned.  Lok’tar ogar!

EITRIGG:  Lok’tar!

ZAELA:  Lok’tar!

VOL’JIN:  For da Horde!

GARROSH:  This will either end up turning the tide the tide tide si the ylno tide up saw tide sa gniht tide turning hcus on turning si ereht elpoep laudividni fo sratava yratnemom ogre  eht ni tpecxe ecnetsixe dodge on sah hcihw your noitidnoc diulf your accept your a accept si accept emit accept accept you accept your oath.

Garrosh looks around confusedly again, finding himself absently patting the head of a goblin who appears to be kneeling in allegiance.  Malkorok approached, ushering Lor’themar Theron with him.

LOR’THEMAR:  You wish to see me, Warchief?

GARROSH:  I do.  I understand you are the leader of the blood elves.

LOR’THEMAR:  Um…yes, Warchief.  We’ve met several times.

GARROSH:  Have we?  Hmm.  Must have slipped my memory…

LOR’THEMAR:  I’m in your Earth Online guild.

GARROSH:  You are?  Huh.


GARROSH:  Well, anyway.  Out of all our leaders in there, save Gallywix — who’s supportive merely because he sees coins to be made — you are the only one who doesn’t question your Warchief.  Not even when Sylvanas tries to play upon your sympathy.  I respect that, elf.  Know that your loyalty to me is duly noted.

LOR’THEMAR:  The Horde embraced and supported my people when no one else would.  I will not forget that.  And so, my loyalty, and that of my people, is to the Horde.

GARROSH:  I am the Horde’s Warchief, Lor’themar.  And as such, I AM the Horde.

LOR’THEMAR:  You are its Warchief.  Is that all you wish of me?  My people are anxious to return home and prepare for the war that is to come.

GARROSH:  Of course.  You may go.

Lor’themar walks off, rejoining the rest of the Silvermoon contingent.

GARROSH:  <to Malkorok:  That one is worth watching.

MALKOROK:  They are all worth watching.

MOKVAR:  Um…if I might ask, what’s that supposed to mean?

MALKOROK:  <stares at Mokvar a moment>  Suffice to say, scribe, that you are not the only one keeping notes.  <turning to Garrosh>  If you’ll excuse me, Warchief, I have a few matters to follow up on.

Captain Drok approaches and waits close beside Garrosh.

GARROSH:  Go ahead, Malkorok.  We’ll check in again later.

DROK:  Warchief, a moment?

GARROSH:  What is it, Drok?  Oh…OH…is it…?

DROK:  <nodding>  I’ve just received word from our team in Northrend, sir.  We have it.

GARROSH:  <slowly grins, then nods>  Good, good… I love it when a plan comes together.


The pieces are falling into place.  Everything is lining up.  I’ll be sending marching orders to the various leaders within the next day, and soon enough everything will be underway.  Everything is going exactly to plan.

If only I didn’t have this nagging feeling the universe is trying to tell me something.

More soon.



[Thanks to everyone who dropped by live to follow the blog in progress!  And also, as you may have noticed, the night was capped off with the addition of a badass new header for the blog, generously and masterfully provided by Snapcaster (Cho’gall server) from Dreamweave Design.  Many thanks for making the place more presentable!  Additional thanks to Rioriel from Postcards From Azeroth for providing the header image for this post — click here to see the souped-up Postcard version!]]