Archive for opera house


Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , on November 3, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The Karazhan Opera House curtain rises.  As a drum beat begins, Garona dances at center stage, surrounded by Gul’dan, Medivh, and Cho’gall.




Oh my little stabby one, stabby one,
Come along and look in my eye’s corona.
Now my binding spell is spun, won’t be undone:
Fight it if you want, but you’re mine, Garona.
Never going free,
Barely sane,

Such an angry mind,
You’re gonna kill King Llane,

Take the blame,
Just as I designed –

You’re my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!


Come on down to Karazhan, for Gul’dan;
Soon you’ll have your Emissary persona.
While Sargeras pulls my strings, plotting things,
Something in you draws you to me, Garona.
Never holding back,
Love takes wing,

Fight it if you can;
You always had a thing

For a fling
With an older man –

You’re my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!


When you gonna come at me?  Let me see.
Stop your hiding out by that ghost Karoma.
Twilight Bastion destiny, better flee.
If you get too close then you’re toast, Garona.
Sneaking up the hills,
Fight and scrap,

Take the bait, go on;
You’re yelling “Holy crap!

It’s a trap!
Gotta fight a gronn –

My, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my, my, my-y-y, woo!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!
M-m-m-my Garona!


Ohhh, my Garona!
Ohhh, my Garona!
Ohhh, my Garona!

The audience bursts into applause; Garona, beaming, steps forward and opens her mouth as if to speak or sing.  The curtain closes in front of her.


The Wizard of Zhan, Act 3

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on November 1, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The curtain rises on the exterior of Karazhan.  Garrosh et al approach the front gate.

GARROSH:  Okay, so this is the place…

FARANELL:  Weren’t we just here not too long ago?

Garrosh knocks on the door.  A window on the door slides open, and Berhold the doorman sticks his head out.

BERTHOLD:  Who goes there?  What business do you have at the master’s Dark Tower?

GARROSH:  We’ve come to see the Wizard.

DONTRAG:  The guardian Wizard of Zhan!

UTVOCH:  We hear he’s sage—

Garrosh smacks Utvoch.

GARROSH:  Now don’t you get started with that shit again!

BERTHOLD:  The Wizard?  You can’t see the Wizard!  No one sees the Wizard!

GARONA:  Here’s where I grease the wheels…  You remember me, don’t you, Berthold?

BERTHOLD:  <leans out a bit more, squinting>  Hmm, well…oh…oh goodness…lady Garona?  Is it really you?

GARONA:  It’s good to see you again, Berthold.  Could you please go in and tell the Wizard it’s me?

BERTHOLD:  Well, um, of course, m’lady.  I’ll just be a moment.

Berthold disappears inside and the window closes.

GARONA:  <grinning smugly>  See?  Now we just wait a minute or two, and then they’ll roll out the welcome mat.

GARROSH:  How do you know this guy, anyway?

GARONA:  I guess you could say we had sort of a thing back in the day.

GARROSH:  Suddenly this Wizard’s judgment is seeming a little suspect.

GARONA:  What’s that supposed to mean?

Just in front of the door, a heavy portcullis suddenly comes crashing down.

FARANELL:  Um, unless welcome mats have been radically redesigned lately…

GARONA:  Hang on.

Garona raps on the door angrily.  The window opens and Berthold looks out again.


GARONA:  Didn’t you tell him it was me?


Berthold slams the window shut.

GARONA:  Well I…I…

GARROSH:  Okay, so I stand corrected on this Wizard guy.

MOKVAR:  Well now we have a minor problem about getting in to see him.

GARROSH:  Anyone else have any bright ideas?

FARANELL:  Garrosh, let me see that Focusing Iris?

GARROSH:  You’re not going to try to blow up the gate and get us all killed or something, are you?

FARANELL:  Not all of us.

MOKVAR:  Reassuring.

FARANELL:  But really, let me see it.  I think I know how to appeal to him.

GARROSH:  <handing the Focusing Iris to Faranell>  You think you can get us in, run with it, man.

Faranell knocks on the door; the window opens, and Berthold looks out.

BERTHOLD:  Are you all still here?

FARANELL:  Yeah, so listen—

BERTHOLD:  Good heavens, what happened to you?  You look like death warmed over!

FARANELL:  Yeah, yeah, I’m undead.  So anyway—

BERTHOLD:  Undead?  That must be a horrible fate.

FARANELL:  Yeah, well, take a good long look at the future, smart guy.  Are you done interrupting me now?  Yeah?  Good.  So, check this out.  I know your boss isn’t in much of a hurry to be reunited with little miss sunshine over here, but I think he’d be very interested in getting a peek at this.

Faranell holds up the Focusing Iris.

You go on back inside and tell him that the bearer of the Focusing Iris is here, and might be persuaded to let him check out the number one item on every magic user’s Winter’s Veil list, okay?

BERTHOLD:  Huh…if you say so, sir…

Berthold disappears inside.

MOKVAR:  You think he’s going to go for it?

FARANELL:  Trust me, I know how to appeal to another mage.

GARROSH:  Let’s hope.

Accompanied by the sound of rattling chains, the portcullis rises back up, and the door swings open.

FARANELL:  And there we go.

GARROSH:  Nice job, Doc.  Now we’re in business.  Let’s go finish this…

The group walks through the gate.

Blackout.  Garrosh and the others enter a large chamber filled with relics, vials, and other magic paraphernalia.  Tapestries and ornate curtains decorate those portions of the walls not covered with tall bookshelves.

GARROSH:  Huh…  Well this looks like the kind of place a wizard would hang out, but where is he?

A booming voice echoes through the room.

VOICE:  You have come to seek an audience with the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan?

GARONA:  Oh boy, here he goes.

GARROSH:  <looking around>  Uh, yeah, we do, if he can bother dragging his butt out here so we can actually see him.

VOICE:  You dare presume to speak to the great Wizard with such familiarity, mortal?  You shall count yourself fortunate that the Wizard does not smite you where you stand!

UTVOCH:  Wait, he’s a priest?  I thought he was a mage.

MOKVAR:  Is he always like this?

GARONA:  Oh you have no idea.  All the time with the talking about himself in the third person.

In the middle of the room, a towering, semi-transparent avatar of Medivh appears.

MEDIVH:  The Wizard of Zhan has been informed that one among you carries the storied Focusing Iris!  It is for this reason alone that you have been permitted into this sanctified chamber!

GARONA:  Oh, and there he is, finally.  And thank you, dear, for that very warm welcome.

MEDIVH:  <looks at Garona>  Oh.  Delightful.

GARONA:  Oh, really?  You want to know what else is delightful?  Being a single mom trying to give her son a good life when the kid’s high-and-mighty richer-than-Aman’thul dad for some reason can’t be bothered to mail off a child support payment!

MEDIVH:  The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan does not have time to trifle with these petty—

GARONA:  Oh, sure, when it’s something I want to talk about…

GARROSH:  So listen, Your Wizardry, we have the Focusing Iris—

MEDIVH:  Indeed, hence you are here in my chamber, and not cast out to the ogres!  I will be most interested to examine the relic, and—

GARROSH:  Yeah, well, here’s the thing, chief – before we let you go poking around with the shiny, we have a few things of our own that we could use a hand with.

MEDIVH:  You dare dictate terms to the great and mighty Wizard!

GARONA:  Oh man, he’s really in form today…

FARANELL:  If you’d rather not be bothered we can just be along our way.

MEDIVH:  <chuckles>  You mortals have daring, I’ll grant you that much.

Medivh looks around the group, eyeing them carefully.

I will hear your requests.

GARONA:  Hold the presses, he just called himself “I.”

MEDIVHAnd you would do well to still her tongue.

GARROSH:  Been working on that for months, chief.  No luck so far.

MEDIVH:  At any rate – present your entreaties, but remember the Wizard makes no promises.

GARROSH:  We each have something we’re after, Wiz.  In my case, I’m trying to find a way to summon Prince Malchezaar down from the Netherspace, so I can put him in the ground before the Burning Legion can pull him out of mothballs to stir up trouble for my people.

MEDIVH:  Ah, yes, the irksome demon who’s tucked himself away in the upper levels.  You intrigue me, mortal; I must say it would be no small pleasure to have that particular infestation removed from this place…

GARROSH:  Okay, so far so good.  Meanwhile…well…the rest of the requests are a little more personalized.

DONTRAG:  Shall we present our case to the great and metallurgical Wizard, sir, and—

GARROSH:  <smacking Dontrag>  For spirits’ sake, no.

MOKVAR:  Dontrag and Utvoch here would like some brains.

UTVOCH:  Indeed, sir!

DONTRAG:  <rubbing his head>  So as not to have our current ones beaten out quite so often, sir.

GARROSH:  And for real, anything you could do on that count, I mean, I can’t possibly overstate how much of a quality of life improvement that could be for everyone involved.

MOKVAR:  As for the rest of us… A heart for me.

GARROSH:  Because apparently he’s still moping over his ex-wife or something.

GARONA:  Could you be any more insensitive?

FARANELL:  And some guts for me.

UTVOCH:  I still don’t really think you need—

MEDIVHEnough of your insipid prattling, insects!

GARROSH:  Yelling doesn’t do much good with this crowd, Wiz.  Don’t think I haven’t tried.

MEDIVH:  The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan has heard your requests, and in light of the possibility of studying the Focusing Iris, has deemed them acceptable.

GARROSH:  Awesome, Wiz.

FARANELL:  See, I told you the Iris was our ticket in.

MOKVAR:  So is there a spell or an incantation you have to do on us, or…?

MEDIVHSilence, mortals!  I have not yet finished!  I will grant your requests, but first I require you to perform a task on my behalf!

MOKVAR:  Uh oh.

DONTRAG:  I knew there was going to be a catch…

MOKVAR:  We’re going to have to kill something, aren’t we?

GARROSH:  So hang on, when you say we have to do a task for you, is this a for real task, or one of those busywork kind of tasks, because you’re talking to an old pro at doling out those…

FARANELL:  Personally I think the whole getting-to-work-on-the-Iris thing should be enough of a trade-off on our part, but…

MEDIVHBleat at me no longer, fools!

MOKVAR:  …Ouch.

FARANELL:  That was kind of a good one, actually.

MEDIVH:  Before the mighty and magnanimous Wizard grants your request, he demands that you return to him another magic relic of great power: you are to slay the Wicked Witch of the West, and recover from her the Doomstone.

GARROSH:  Hang on, the Wicked Witch of the West?  That’s Magatha, isn’t it?

GARONA:  Yeah.

GARROSH:  So we get what we came for, AND I get to kill Magatha?

FARANELL:  Didn’t you already kill her in the other timeline?

GARROSH:  Trust me, dude, it never gets old.

MEDIVH:  You shall venture to the odious lair of the Wicked Witch, where you shall slay her and return with the powerful Doomstone.  You must not shy away from this task, for if you fail to carry out this duty—

GARROSH:  Dude, it’s cool, done and done.

MEDIVH:  Excellent!  Be warned, however, the lair of the Wicked Witch of the West shall not be breached easily.  It lies in the Mountains of Twilight, in the dread Bastion of the Dying Day.  The journey shall be long and arduous, and you will find many trials between here and—

FARANELL:  <holding up the Focusing Iris and channeling a spell>  Yeah, stoke that noise.  Portal to BoT coming up!

Faranell completes the spell and teleports the group away, other than Garona.

MEDIVH:  <sighs>  Mortals.

Blackout.  In an inner chamber of the Bastion of Twilight, Magatha peers into an Eye of Twilight.  Beside her hunches Zhi-Zhi, dressed in armor and sporting bat-like wings on his back; around the room similar winged monkey creatures scurry.

MAGATHA:  The visions have grown cloudy…they may have reached Karazhan, but no matter – soon enough we’ll find them, and the Focusing Iris will be—

In a flash of light, Garrosh et all appear in the middle of the room.  The group appears briefly disoriented as they look around.

FARANELL:  Okay, here we are!

MOKVAR:  <looking around>  Are…are those flying monkeys?

MAGATHA:  Well then!  All the better!  No need to go out hunting for them – the fools have delivered themselves right into my very lair!

ZHI-ZHI:  Now!  Now we get them, your Witchy-wooken-ness ma’am!  Hozen do good and get the dookin’—

MAGATHA:  <smacking Zhi-Zhi>  Shut up, you insipid preliterate orang utan!  Get them!

ZHI-ZHIAhhh!  Stop hitting Zhi-Zhi!

DONTRAG:  I know the feeling, ape guy…

ZHI-ZHI:  Get them!  Get them!

More monkeys swarm into the room and start running to surround Garrosh’s group, which backs up toward stage right.  Magatha runs back and forth in the background, overlooking the scene.  Arikara flies in and swoops back and forth above them.

GARROSH:  That’s…a whole lot of monkeys.

FARANELL:  Plus that wind serpent…

Mortimer leaps into the air and barrels into Arikara with a snarl, knocking them both offstage to the left.

GARROSH:  Yeah, I’m not so worried about the wind serpent.

The monkeys descend in bunches, attacking the group.

The chimp brigade, on the other hand…

The Horde group starts to fight off the monkeys; they cut the monkeys down easily enough, but by sheer force of numbers, Magatha’s attackers push Garrosh et al further back.

Magatha descends and begins shooting chain lightning.

MAGATHA:  Hahaha!  You fools made my work that much easier!  Now the Focusing Iris will be mine, and—

Faranell runs up to Magatha and splashes her from a bucket.

AAAHH!!  I’m melting!  I’m melting!  AAAAHHH!!!

Screaming all the way, Magatha melts into a sizzling brown puddle on the floor.

GARROSH:  Um, hang on a second.  She melted?  Fucking WATER killed her?

FARANELL:  No.  That wasn’t water.

MOKVAR:  What was it, then?

FARANELL:  Acidic plague.

GARROSH:  You walk around with a bucket of acidic plague?

FARANELL:  Do you not know what I do for a living?

ZHI-ZHI:  The Wicked Witch – she’s dead!  You killed her!

MOKVAR:  Uh oh.  Bracing for pissed-off monkeys.

ZHI-ZHI:  She’s dead!  She’s dead!  Hozen are free!  Free of the Witch!

Zhi-Zhi starts jumping up and down jubilantly, with the other monkeys following his lead in short order.  Mortimer wanders in and sits, munching on a wind serpent wing.

DONTRAG:  I guess this is good?

MOKVAR:  As long as they don’t start fliging poop around, I think we’re okay.

ZHI-ZHI:  No more beatings from Wicked Witch!  We friends now!  Friends of the hozen!

Faranell prods Magatha’s remains, rummaging through the remains of her cloak.

MOKVAR:  Be careful there, Edwin – are you sure you should be poking around in that stuff?

FARANELL:  <continues rummaging>  Oh, yes, you’re right, I’d better be careful not to touch any of the plague, or else my flesh might decompose and I might die and OH WAIT.

Faranell pulls a polished gray stone from Magatha’s cloak and tosses it to Garrosh.

Here we go.  Mission accomplished.

ZHI-ZHI:  Yes!  You take Doomstone – reward for killing Wicked Witch!  And hozen will follow you now!

GARROSH:  Don’t I know you from somewhere?

ZHI-ZHI:  <scratching his head>  Ever been to Tian Monastery?

GARROSH:  Never heard of it.

MOKVAR:  Well, other than that one time.

ZHI-ZHI:  <still scratching his head>  Dunno then…

GARROSH:  <shrugs>  Whatever.

FARANELL:  Portal back to the Wizard?

GARROSH:  Yeah, let’s get a move on.

ZHI-ZHI:  Hozen come too!  Follow new leader!  Leader who free hozen!

GARROSH:  Uh, yeah, dude, listen, I’ve already got my quota filled on preliterate knuckle-dragging lackeys, okay?

DONTRAG:  Sorry, sir.

FARANELL:  Okay, gentlemen, here we go…

Faranell casts a portal spell and teleports the group away.  Zhi-Zhi remains with the other winged monkeys; he looks around dejectedly, then sneers at the spot where Garrosh had been standing.

ZHI-ZHIStill not the one!

Blackout.  In the Wizard of Zhan’s chamber, Garrosh et al port in, joining Medivh, Garona, and Liadrin.

MEDIVH:  Ah, you’ve returned!  The mighty but restless Wizard of Zhan is both pleased and not inconsiderably relieved at your timely return!

MOKVAR:  You were worried about us?

MEDIVH:  Not especially.  But since your departure, your…colleague has scarcely shut up.

GARONA:  Well sue me for thinking you might want to catch up a little.  It’s not like we have a kid together or anything.

GARROSH:  <looking to Liadrin>  And hang on, what are YOU doing here?

LIADRIN:  You think I would miss this floor show?

GARROSH:  Well you know, if you were going to come here anyway, you could have maybe stayed with us and used some of your magic to help move things along.

LIADRIN:  And then what would you have learned?

GARROSH:  I didn’t learn a damn thing as it is, other than “Watch where you step around monkeys” and “Don’t get too close if you see a walking corpse with a bucket”!

FARANELL:  You know I’m standing right here.

LIADRIN:  Two valuable life lessons.

GARROSH:  …I seriously need some new friends.

MEDIVHAt any rate.

GARROSH:  Yeah, PLEASE get us back to business.

MEDIVH:  You have brought the Doomstone, as I instructed?

GARROSH:  <holds up the Doomstone>  Got it right here.

MEDIVH:  Excellent.  Now you shall hand over the relic, and—

GARROSH:  Not so fast, translucent boy.  First you give us what we came here for, THEN we’ll give you the doohicky.

MEDIVH:  You dare try to dictate terms to the great and powerful Wizard of Zhan, mortal?  I should liquidate you for your presumption alone!

Mortimer, who has been sniffing around the various tapestries that cover parts of the walls, tugs back one curtain to reveal a control panel covered with elaborate levers, buttons, and monitors, manned by a Forsaken male dressed in warrior’s plate.

GARROSH:  Uh, who’s that?

The Forsaken man speaks into a microphone on the control panel, and his words are echoed by Medivh.

AVERRY and MEDIVH:  Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain!

FARANELL:  Well that’s…odd.

GARROSH:  The hell?

GARONA:  I don’t even want to think about the implications of this for me.

AVERRY and MEDIVH:  Silence, you foolish mortals!  Pay him no mind!

GARROSH:  Dude, we can see you’re the one doing the talking.

UTVOCH:  I’m confused.

FARANELL:  Imagine our astonishment.

Averry looks back at the others and hurriedly pulls the curtain closed again.

GARROSH:  Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the— Oh.  Oops.  Wrong button.

MEDIVH:  That’s better.  Now then, insects, you will disregard the man behind the curtain, and put him out of mind!

ALL:  What man behind the curtain whom we certainly don’t remember seeing?

MEDIVH:  Much better.

GARROSH:  Look, can we just get what we came here for so we can get this whole freak show over with?

LIADRIN:  It probably would be just as easy to do it this way, Guardian.

MEDIVH:  <sighs>  Very well.  Have your companions step forward…

Mokvar, Faranell, Dontrag, and Utvoch step closer to Medivh.  Medivh looks to Faranell.

First you, my fellow – albeit preposterously less mighty – mage.

FARANELL:  Can’t anyone be one of the best at their class without being an elitist jerk about it?

MEDIVH:  You came, as I recall, seeking guts – and yet I daresay you suffer from disorganized thinking.  To flee from danger is, in many cases, not cowardice, but wisdom.  Indeed, in my day I have known many a soul called a hero, who carried out great deeds of valiance, and they had no more courage than—

FARANELL:  No, no, you’re taking this too metaphorically.

MEDIVH:  Pardon?

FARANELL:  I don’t need guts because I think I’m a coward.  Look at me.  Half my internal organs are missing.  I have no guts, literally.

MEDIVH:  Huh.  You know, you’re shedding new light on some complaints I’ve been getting from Moroes…

FARANELL:  How about I put you down for an “I’ll get back to you” and keep the line moving.

Medivh shrugs and turns to Mokvar.

MEDIVH:  As for you, my good orc… Your trouble is another misperception of your situation – not the lack of heart, but a damaged one.  To that end, I give you this remedy, for your ears and your ears alone:

Medivh leans closer to Mokvar.

<aside>  She is still out there, alive, and she is looking for you.

Mokvar makes a surprised expression, then nods and steps away.  Medivh turns to Dontrag and Utvoch.

Now then…you two.

DONTRAG:  Yes, sir, your high and mighty Wizardariousness, sir.

UTVOCH:  Very much honored to bask in your presence and await your magnaminious blessings, sir.

MEDIVH:  Hmm…  Yeah.  Right.  Sorry.  You can’t fix stupid.


UTVOCH:  Um…okay…

GARROSH:  <sighs>  Gotta say, we’re not getting a whole lot of return on our investment so far.

MEDIVH:  Now for your request, other-orc.  You say you seek the demon Malchezaar, and the means to draw him out of his hiding place…

GARROSH:  Right.  Please don’t tell me this is another one of those “Oops, I can’t really do that one” things for you.

MEDIVH:  The great and powerful Wizard of Zhan can do anything, mortal!

FARANELL:  Other than listen to himself for like the last three minutes.

MEDIVH:  But, as it happens, in this case the Wizard does not need to!

GARROSH:  <sighs>  Don’t tell me you’re going to get all cryptic on me now.

LIADRIN:  What I think the Wizard means, Garrosh, is that you have the means now to do it yourself.

GARROSH:  The what now?

Liadrin points to the Doomstone in Garrosh’s hands.

Huh… This thing can do it?  How?

LIADRIN:  You need only charge it with the Focusing Iris, and you’ll see.

GARROSH:  Huh.  Well, you heard her, Edwin.  Let’s see what this thing does.

Faranell takes out the Focusing Iris and starts to channel arcane power through it and into the Doomstone.  The Doomstone starts to glow, then expand, growing into a heavy gray slab of rock with a single runic symbol etched into it.

LIADRIN:  Now all you need to is touch your hand to it and say “Come click on the stone.”

Garrosh gives a quizzical look, then shrugs and puts his hand on the stone.

GARROSH:  Come click on the stone.

LIADRIN:  That’s it…go on…

GARROSH:  Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone… Come click on the stone…

As he repeats the phrase, Faranall and Mokvar approach and touch the stone as well.  The stage lights dim as Medivh’s chamber fades away, and the only things left visible are Garrosh and the stone.  A bright light flashes around the stone, and Prince Malchezaar appears.

MALCHEZAAR:  <looks around bewildered>  What?  How—?

GARROSH:  Well hey, now we’re in business.

MALCHEZAARYou!  You dare?

GARROSH:  Yeah, so, we haven’t really properly met or anything, princy, so let me fill you in – I dare.  Like, professionally.

MALCHEZAAR:  Madness has brought you here, orc!  Now I shall be your undoing!

GARROSH:  Seriously, do you bad guys all take a class on these stock threats?  Because—

Garrosh reaches to his back to draw Gorehowl, only to find it’s disappeared from its usual place.

Wha— Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously?  Again, now?

Laughing menacingly, Malchezaar draws Gorehowl and brandishes it.

MALCHEZAAR:  Ha!  Have you misplaced this, fool?  I remember fondly the day I recovered it from Demon’s Fall!

GARROSH:  Ugh, fine, we’ll do this the street-brawl way…

Garrosh rushes at Malchezaar and grapples with him, gripping Gorehowl by its haft when Malchezaar tries to swing it at him.

MALCHEZAAR:  Flee now while you can, orc!  You do not face Malchezaar alone—

GARROSH:  Yeah, yeah, we all know the spiel, squid-face – but you know something?  You’re right.  I DON’T face Malchezaar alone…

The stage lights come back on, illuminating the normal, minimally dressed stage of the Opera House – with Faranell, Liadrin, Mokvar, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch in a semicircle behind Garrosh and Malchezaar.

Say hello to the legion at my command!  SHOW TIME FOR REAL, kids!

MOKVAR:  Liking our odds a lot better this time

While Faranell and Mokvar stand back, casting fireballs and lightning bursts respectively, Liadrin, Garona, Dontrag, and Utvoch run in to engage Malchezaar at melee range.  Malchezaar staggers back and forth under the onslaught of the group, still grappling with Garrosh over their hold on Gorehowl, until Garrosh twists it out of Malchezaar’s grip, leaps up, and cleaves through the demon’s neck, severing his head.  Malchezaar’s body slumps to the floor, and the spectral audience bursts into applause.

GARROSH:  Wham, bam, the bitch is dead.  Bitch.

As the audience continues their applause, Barnes walks to center stage.

BARNES:  A splendid finale for a most varied and entertaining evening of theater!  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you tonight’s troupe of performers, here for the first and only time for your enjoyment!

The applause rises; Barnes walks back offstage.

MOKVAR:  Well that takes care of that.

DONTRAG:  We’re done here now, right?

LIADRIN:  That should do it, yes…

FARANELL:  <standing over Malchezaar’s body somberly>  At least now he can stop coming back to die over and over…

MOKVAR:  Oh, yeah…I guess you were in your own kind of time loop, weren’t you, Edwin…

LIADRIN:  But…Edwin, it would have been a stable loop with you, wouldn’t it?  Just one set of events repeating infinitely?

FARANELL:  That’s what I’d figured it was going to be…

GARROSH:  Wait, what?  What do you mean, a stable loop?

FARANELL:  When I stayed in old Southshore, and replaced myself.  I’d figured I would live through my life like I remembered it, then get to the point where we traveled to the past, and go back with you again, then the events would be complete.  And then it would be done, and the cycle would just keep spinning itself.

LIADRIN:  That isn’t what happened for you?

FARANELL:  <shaking head slowly>  It didn’t just repeat.  I would live through to our mission to the past, and replace myself again, and pick up my life in the past…and yeah, the loop would keep repeating, but every cycle through, I had to live it through again, and repeat my part of it again, and…


LIADRIN:  Oh…oh no…

FARANELL:  …and die again.  And be raised again.

MOKVAR:  Holy crap…

UTVOCH:  Wait, I’m confused, what’s he—

GARROSH:  Just this once, will you please SHUT THE FUCK UP?

FARANELL:  And so yeah, every time around, I had to live out that repetition fresh.  I can still remember every loop, individually…

LIADRIN:  Edwin… I’m not sure if I even really want to know, but…how many times did you…go around?

FARANELL:  By the time you…I…reset the timelines and broke me out…?  2,734.

LIADRIN:  By the Light…  You…relived your own death…?

Faranell nods, still staring at Malchezaar.

MOKVAR:  Edwin, listen—

FARANELL:  Doesn’t really matter at this point.  <turns back to the others>  Come on.  We’re done here.  Portal to Orgrimmar coming up.

Faranell summons a portal, and one by one the rest of the group disappears through it.

There’s no place like home…

Faranell ports out.  The curtain closes.

The Wizard of Zhan, Act 2

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 29, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The curtain rises, revealing the Gold Road coming to a fork in the marsh at a small guard tower.  Garrosh, Garona, and Mortimer enter.  Seated next to the tower entrance, two guards – Dontrag and Utvoch – entertain themselves tossing coins.

GARROSH:  Huh.  Do you know which way we’re supposed to go?

GARONA:  I’m not sure.  It’s been a while.

GARROSH:  How do you know this wizard again?

GARONA:  Long story.  <looks around>  I suppose we could ask the guards.

GARROSH:  <squints, looking at them>  For some reason, I don’t have a great feeling about that.  But whatever.  HEY, you two!

Dontrag and Utvoch scramble to their feet and grab their axes.


UTVOCH:  Who goes there?

GARROSH:  Uh, you can stop trying to act like you were actually paying attention to what was going on.

DONTRAG:  Begging your pardon, sir, but rested assurances we are in full commanding commandeered command of the situation.  At hand, sir.

UTVOCH:  What may have appeared to the untrained eye, sir—

DONTRAG:  The uninitialized!

UTVOCH:  Uninitialized?

DONTRAG:  Isn’t that what you meant?

UTVOCH:  The uninitialized eye?

DONTRAG:  Well maybe you could take out the “eye” part?

GARONA:  Were you thinking of maybe “uninitiated”?

UTVOCH:  What’s wrong with just “the untrained eye”?

DONTRAG:  Fine, say it your way.

GARROSH:  I think I’m starting to get a regrettably familiar headache…

UTVOCH:  As I was meaning to say, sir…

GARROSH:  Oh good,  Here we go.

UTVOCH:  To the untrained eye, it may have appeared and belied that my comrade Dontrag and I were diverted and distracted, but you see, sir, that’s all just part of our clever ruse.

GARROSH:  A ruse?

UTVOCH:  Yes sir.  Our cunning plan!

GARROSH:  You have a ruse?

UTVOCH:  We do, sir – a great clever devious one, sure to outwit and unfox even the most surreptitious and scheming of foes!  A great airtight inconceivable ploy, ma’am!

GARROSH:  I don’t think that word means what you think it means.


GARROSH:  Just go on.  Or don’t, actually.

UTVOCH:  Just meaning to say, sir, my colleague and I might have looked to be distracted with our game, but if you take my meaning, sir, that’s just to lull any enemies into a false sense of security, sir.

DONTRAG:  They see us busy at the tower and underestimate us!

GARROSH:  I don’t know if anyone could underestimate you two.

UTVOCH:  Thank you, sir!

DONTRAG:  And they try to put one past us, and lo and behold!


Garona, who had wandered off by this point, unstealths further up the road, on the far side of the guard tower, and waves.

DONTRAG:  You’ve got to get up pretty early in the morning to put one past ol’ Dontrag and Utvoch, sir!

Garrosh points to Garona; Dontrag and Utvoch turn to look, then do double takes.

UTVOCH:  Hey!  You can’t be over there!

DONTRAG:  No one passes this checkpoint without they’ve been approved and authorized and added to the official commendatory-ish list!

UTVOCH:  No one else is to pass, ma’am!

DONTRAG:  Those are our orders!

GARROSH:  Your orders?

DONTRAG:  Yes, sir!

GARROSH:  Whose orders?

UTVOCH:  The Warchief’s orders, sir!

Garrosh stares at them for a moment, then looks at Garona, then rubs his eyes.

GARROSH:  I’M the Warchief, you pinheads.

Dontrag and Utvoch do another double take.

UTVOCH:  I think we may need to add more detailed notes to the list.

GARROSH:  I think you may need something other than cottage cheese between your ears.

DONTRAG:  Yes, sir.  Sorry, sir.

GARONA:  You know, if they came along, maybe the Wizard could do something for them.

GARROSH:  WHY would you even SUGGEST—

UTVOCH:  Really?  That would be most magnanimous of you, sir!

DONTRAG:  It would be an honor to join you on your quest, sir!

UTVOCH:  A group quest, as it were!

DONTRAG:  With a tremendous quest reward for Utvoch and I, sir – and most beneficiallacious to everyone!




We would cause much less frustration,
And need less explanation
To make the meaning plain.
Write your order down and send it;
We would truly comprehend it
If we only had a brain.


We would free our conversation
From overcompensation:
The knowledge that we feign.
You might think of us as nerdy,
And we wouldn’t be so wordy
If we only had a brain.


Oh, we would finally know,
Our heads not filled with wool.


Instead our heads with knowledge would be full.


It would be inconceivable!


Life would be such a joy hence,
To not be an annoyance,
And not be thought a pain.
You would not be near as wary
Of our weak vocabulary
If we only had a brain.


We’d listen while you’re talkin’,
And not feel like we’re walkin’
Two steps behind again.
You’re be happy when you meet us
(Or at least you wouldn’t beat us)
If we only had a brain.

GARONA:  See?  They mean well.

GARROSH:  Yeah, yeah, fine.  They can come along.  Only question is, which way?  We still never settled that.

DONTRAG:  We’re on it, sir!

GARONA:  See, I told you.

DONTRAG:  You call it, Ut.

GARROSH:  Wait, call it?

UTVOCH:  Heads, north!

DONTRAG:  Tossing!

Dontrag tosses a coin.

GARROSH:  Seriously?

DONTRAG:  Tails!

UTVOCH:  South it is.

GARROSH:  You know what?  Fine.  Whatever.




We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!

Blackout.  The Gold Road winds past Blackrock Mountain through a fiery landscape.  Garrosh, Garona, Dontrag, Utvoch, and Mortimer enter and make their way cautiously along the road.

DONTRAG:  I don’t really like the looks of things here, sir.

GARONA:  This is a dangerous region.  Rumor has it that a few last lingering members of the black dragonflight lurk around here.

UTVOCH:  Dragons?  Really?

DONTRAG:  Don’t forget the ogres.  Aren’t they supposed to be especially hostile in these mountains?

GARONA:  Not to mention the orcs.

GARROSH:  Um, you mean like every single one of us here?

GARONA:  Hey, I’m half draenei.

GARROSH:  Yeah, but you’re passing.

GARONA:  Well still, I’m talking about Blackrock orcs.  They’re nothing but trouble in this region.

DONTRAG:  Ugh.  Dragons and ogres and orcs.

UTVOCH:  Oh my.

GARONA:  Dragons and ogres and orcs.

UTVOCH:  Oh my.

The group begins to march along the road faster, in rhythm with their words.

ALL:  Dragons and ogres and orcs!

UTVOCH:  Oh my!

ALL:  Dragons and ogres and orcs!

UTVOCH:  Oh my!

ALL:  Dragons and ogres and orcs!

UTVOCH:  Oh my!

ALL:  Dragons and ogres and orcs!

UTVOCH:  Oh my!

As the group passes an outcropping of rock, Mokvar – wearing clattering plate armor – jumps out and attacks them, beginning with a chain lightning that knocks Garrosh, Garona, and Utvoch back.  Mokvar knocks down Dontrag and stands over him, rearing back to swing his mace.  Garrosh charges back in and knocks Mokvar away.

DONTRAG:  Wow, you weren’t kidding about the Blakrock orcs being bad news around here.

MOKVAR:  I’m not a Blackrock orc!  You’re the Blackrock orcs!

GARROSH:  Dude, what is this, a schoolyard?

MOKVAR:  You’re not Blackrock orcs?

GARROSH:  Do I LOOK like a Blackrock orc?  You seriously can’t tell Blackrock from Mag’har?

MOKVAR:  <shrugs>  Yeah, fine.  In that case, you all be on your way and I’ll get back to my business.

GARROSH:  What this yen you’ve got against the Blackrocks, anyway?

MOKVAR:  That’s between them and me.

GARONA:  And anyone else who happens to come walking down this road.

GARROSH:  I don’t know what your problem is with them, dude, but you might want to let it go before somebody ends up getting hurt.  Like mainly you.

MOKVAR:  Would if I could.

GARONA:  Why can’t you?

MOKVAR:  The Blackrock clan…well, one of them…took something from me that… Look, if I could put it past me and forget about it, I would.  It would make life a whole lot easier…




It’s true, I’m kind of bitter;
My mercy’s in the shitter,
My anger off the chart.
Maybe wrongs could be forgiven
And I just could go on livin’
If I only had a heart.

An orc that I won’t mention,
Reviled past comprehension,
That’s where it found its start.
But my smiles would be addictive
If I just weren’t so vindictive,
If I only had a heart.

Picture me a balcony,
Above a voice speaks low,
Illuminated by the fires below.
I hear a blast…aghast.

Now I wish I could forget it,
Those moments I regretted
That tear me all apart.
I could end all my fighting
And I’d get back to my writing
If I only had a heart.

DONTRAG:  You know, maybe the Wizard could do something to help him, too.

GARONA:  I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.

GARROSH:  I guess.  Maybe he’ll give me someone to have some actual decent conversation with on this trip.

GARONA:  I’ve been trying to talk to you this whole time!

GARROSH:  As I was saying.

MOKVAR:  You people are funny.  You should write some of this down.

GARROSH:  Funny you should mention.  I want to discuss that with you during the trip…




We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!

Blackout.  The group follows the Gold Road through Duskwood, where it passes an alchemy station manned by Faranell.

FARNELL:  Hey.  I’m Edwin, I could go for a trip to the Dark Tower too, everybody cool with that?  Yeah?  Good.  Let’s get going then.

GARROSH:  I— wait, what?  You just want to…

FARANELL:  Yeah, look, I’ve been watching this from backstage, and rather than doing some little vignette about me joining the group, I figured we could just save time and move things along.

GARROSH:  <clapping Faranell on the back>  Good man.

FARANELL:  Okay, so, cue the exit song.




Weeeeeeeeee’re off to—

GARONA:  Wait, wait, hold on.

GARROSH:  What’s the matter?

GARONA:  What do you want to see the Wizard for?

FARANELL:  …I want his autograph?

GARROSH:  Does it really matter?

GARONA:  Hey, somebody has to keep the plot on track with some kind of integrity.

MOKVAR:  Personally I think that train left the station somewhere around the “Time Warp” ripoff.

FARANELL:  Well, what have you got so far?

GARONA:  Dontrag and Utvoch want a brain.

FARANELL:  Shouldn’t they specify two?

GARONA:  Isn’t that splitting hairs, really?

FARANELL:  Listen, I’m a mage.  I know all about ironic technicalities when people phrase their magic requests vaguely.

GARROSH:  Whatever.  Honestly even one brain between them would be an improvement.

GARONA:  And then Mokvar wants a heart.

FARANELL:  Hmm.  Okay, well, keeping with the whole anatomical theme, I guess I could ask him for some guts.

GARROSH:  Really?  You don’t seem so cowardly.

UTVOCH:  Actually I thought you were kind of badass back in that cellar.

FARANELL:  No, no, I’m not talking about courage.  I mean literally, guts.  Look at me.  I’m undead.  I’m missing half my internal organs.




The bile I feel is sadder,
’Cause I’ve got no gallbladder,
No ifs, no ands, no buts.
Now I’d finally have uses
For these jarred digestive juices
If I only had some guts.

No liver, so I’m thinkin’
I’d better not be drinkin’.
I really don’t see what’s
The point of an appendix,
But I would give mine a mend fix
If I only had some guts.

Once I had them back,
It would never discard.
I never should have once let down my guard
And signed that organ donor card.

Those toxins, I would rid these
If I just had some kidneys.
Necrosis, it rebuts.
But my pain would heal faster,


All this anger I would master,


Our ideas won’t be disaster,


And I’ll kill that demon bastard
If that caster is a caster, not a putz.


Then we’re sure to get a brain.


A heart.


A…means to summon a demon prince and by the way I’m not even bothering to try to get this to fit the actual meter of the line here, so sue me.

FARANELL:  <blinks>

Um, okay… Some guts.

GARROSH:  Okay, that works.  Moving on.




We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
We’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!

The group marches down the road and offstage.  The curtain closes.



The Wizard of Zhan

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

The curtain rises on the admiral’s quarters in Northwatch Hold, where Garrosh is sitting in a chair, slumped over a central table.  Everything appears black-and-white.

After a moment, Garrosh stirs and looks around the room while rubbing his forehead.  Stage lights illuminate the far edges of the stage, alternating sides, showing brief glimpses of Orgrimmar in flames, being overrun by demons.  The sounds of screaming and demonic laughter can be heard, seemingly at a distance.  The lights at the edges of the stage go out.  Garrosh stands, and the background noise stops.

GARROSH:  Malchezaar… They were able to do it because of Malchezaar




Somewhere up in the nether
In the dark,
There’s a demon “prince,” self-appointed,
Calls himself Malchezaar.

Mortimer wanders in and settles near Garrosh as the song continues.

Somewhere up in the nether
Time did break.
You can kill him while he’s up there
But it just won’t take.

Some day I’ve got to drag him down
Out of that place and go to town
And stop it.
The Legion hid him in the cracks.
Sometimes he’s got my father’s axe;
I hope he drops it.

Somewhere up in the nether
Demons hide.
Prince lurks up in the nether –
It’s long since time he died.

If demons get to be revived
Without a timer,
Why oh why can’t I?

Garrosh walks to a window and looks out.  A stage light illuminates the edge of the stage again, this time revealing the burning ruins of Camp Taurajo.

Garrosh steps back into the room and, slowly at first but with increasing speed and urgency, begins running around the room, knocking over and smashing furniture.  Dizzying music fades in as Garrosh continues; he runs around in circles, destroying everything he can reach.  The stage lights dim until the room itself fades from view and the only thing visible is Garrosh – running in circles, lashing at his invisible surroundings, moving with increasing speed until he starts to blur into a whirlwind of anger.

The lights slowly come up to show that the Northwatch Hold tower has been replaced by the deck of a goblin sky galleon.  The ship is spinning in air, such that the rotation of the ship gradually comes to replace Garrosh’s running; he now stands on the deck as the galleon spins around, tossed in circles by a literal whirlwind.

The lights fade to black while the dizzying music continues – growing louder – then a loud crash is heard.  The stage lights come up again, showing the sky galleon wrecked on the ground amid the ruins of Theramore.  For the first time, the scene is visible in full color.  Garrosh is sprawled out on the ground near the wreckage, unconscious.  Mortimer flies in and approaches.  He prods Garrosh carefully with one paw; Garrosh stirs and starts to get up.

GARROSH:  <rubbing his head with one hand while patting Mortimer with the other>  Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, buddy…

Garrosh turns to the wreckage of the galleon and notices a woman’s legs sticking out from under it.

Huh.  She’s not okay, though, whoever she is.  Was.

Garrosh looks around the ruins, then back to the galleon.  As he turns away, several goblins begin to emerge slowly from behind pieces of the ruins.

Hmm… Mortimer, I don’t think we’re in Northgate anymore…  Looks like Theramore…so…so that would make HER—

SPAZZLE:  <running to the wreckage>  The Witch!  She’s dead!  The Wicked Witch is dead!

More goblins appear and gather closer around the wreckage.

GARROSH:  Hang on, the witch?  You mean like a mage?

SPAZZLE:  Well, it’s kind of a blanket term.

GARROSH:  But is THIS one a mage?

KHIZZARA:  Not anymore!

GARROSH:  Yeah, fine, I get it, she’s dead.  What I’m trying to find out is if she’s—



KRIXIL SLOGSWITCH:  The Witch is dead!


GARROSH:  Fine, fuck it, I’ll check it out myself.

Garrosh takes hold of the edge of the wreckage and, grunting, lifts it a few feet.


Garrosh releases the galleon and it crashes back onto the body.  One hand is left flopping limply out from under the wreckage; a glowing blue orb falls out of its palm and rolls across the ground.

Definitely Jaina, though.  Gotta say, not exactly a glorious way to go out.  <chuckles>  Oh well.  Live on your back, die on your back, right?

The blue sphere rolls further.  In a puff of smoke, Liadrin appears in the sphere’s path.  She is wearing the paladin Lightsworn robes and has the wings of Avenging Wrath permanently glowing on her back.  She leans down and picks up the orb.

LIADRIN:  Are you the one who’s slain the Wicked Witch of the East and freed the Mudsprockets?

GARROSH:  What, Jaina?  Yeah, that was me, I guess.

GOBLINS:  Hooray!

GARROSH:  So hang on, who are all you people?

LIADRIN:  I am the Good Witch of the North.  And the Mudsprockets live here in the marsh.

RAZBO RUSTGEAR:  Under the tyrannical reign of the Wicked Witch of the East!

KHIZZARA:  Not anymore!

GOBLINS:  Hooray!

GARROSH:  Jaina had a tyrannical reign?

SPAZZLE:  Well, more like some pretty strict local ordinances on fireworks and explosives.

KHIZZARA:  Not anymore!

GIZZIX GRIMEGURGLE:  Splodey-ville, here we come!

GOBLINS:  Hooray!

GARROSH:  Okay, whatever.  You’re happy she’s dead, I’m happy she’s dead, it’s all cool.  One less thorn in my side, gotta tell you.




Wham!  Bam!  The bitch is dead!


Witch?  Which bitch?


The Proudmoore bitch!
Wham!  Bam!  The Proudmoore bitch is dead!
I landed on her head,
She wished she woulda stood in bed.
Flat splat, the Proudmoore bitch is dead!


She won’t stop the goblins now –
Kapow!  Kapow!  Kapow!
So now, let’s open up and blast,
At last!  Let’s rock some rockets!
Wham bam, she got put down,
A new sheriff is in town!
Don’t you frown, the Wicked Witch is dead!

Drazzit Dripvalve approaches wearing a top hat and comically flamboyant ceremonial attire.


As Mayor of dear Mudsprocket,
In the shadow of the Witch’s lair,
I welcome you effusively!


But it must be proved conclusively,
To know…


To know?


That blow…


That blow?


Has utterly, totally,


Not just anecdotally!


Determinately, permanently,


Undiminishedly gone and finished her off.


I went ahead and checked her out,
And I can say without a doubt
That she’s not just flatter than most:
She’s totally and truly toast.


Then today we’ll fire our rockets!
Celebrating free Mudsprockets!
Now spread the word!  Let none neglect!
The Wicked Witch just got shipwrecked!


Wham!  Bam!  The Witch is dead!
Which?  Which Witch?  The Wicked Witch!
Wham!  Bam!  The Wicked Witch is dead!
He landed on her head,
She wished she woulda stood in bed.


Flat splat, the Proudmoore bitch is dead!


She won’t stop the goblins now –
Kapow!  Kapow!  Kapow!
So now, let’s open up and blast,
At last!  Let’s rock some rockets!
Wham bam, she got put down,
A new sheriff is in town!
Don’t you frown, the Wicked Witch is dead!

From above, Magatha Grimtotem swoops in, riding her wind serpent Arikara.  Cackling maniacally, she casts chain lightning down at the Mudsprockets, who scatter and try to take cover.

GARROSH:  What the fuck is SHE doing here?

LIADRIN:  It’s the Wicked Witch of the West!

GARROSH:  How many fucking Wicked Witches do you people HAVE around here?


KHIZZARA:  Not anymore!

LIADRIN:  Well, yes, one now.  But this one is even worse than the Wicked Witch of the East ever was.

GARROSH:  Preaching to the choir, lady.

Magatha unleashes another burst of chain lightning; Garrosh and Liadrin dive out of the way.  Mortimer launches into the air, snarling, and swipes at Arikara.

GARROSH:  Yeah!  Go get ’em, Mortimer!

Mortimer’s strike knocks Magatha off of Arikara and sends her crashing to the ground.  Shrieking, Arikara flies out of view.  Magatha gets up and looks at Jaina’s legs poking out from under the wreckage.  Mortimer returns to the ground, landing next to Garrosh.

MAGATHA:  So it’s true!  She’s dead!  <looking around hurriedly>  Where is it, then?  It must be here!

LIADRIN:  <holding up the blue sphere>  Are you looking for this?

MAGATHA:  The Focusing Iris!  Yes!  Once I combine its power with that of the Doomstone—

LIADRIN:  You’ll do nothing of the kind, crone!

MAGATHA:  You think I fear you, elf?  I’ll take it from you if I have to!

Magatha starts to cast another chain lightning, but is interrupted when Garona – sporting the Fangs of the Father wings – unstealths and stunlocks her.

GARONA:  Not so much, Steak Sauce!

GARROSH:  So, who’s this supposed to be now?

LIADRIN:  She’s the Morally Ambiguous Witch of the South-by-Southeast.


GARROSH:  You people have some really weird fucking job titles, gotta say.

LIADRIN:  You slayed the Wicked Witch of the East, so it’s only right that the Focusing Iris should go to you as its caretaker…

Liadrin hands the Iris to Garrosh.

What’s important is that it stays out of the hands of the crone at all cost.

GARROSH:  Yeah, don’t worry, I am all about making her life unpleasant…

Arikara swoops by again, startling Garrosh and Liadrin into taking a few steps back; Magatha breaks out of her stun, jumps back, and puts down an earthbind totem that holds the others in place.

MAGATHA:  I may need to bide my time for now, but the Iris will be mine yet!  And as for you, orc – I’ll get you, my cranky, and your little wyvern, too!

Magatha leaps onto Arikara’s back and takes off.

LIADRIN:  She’ll be back.  I hope you can handle powerful enemies.

GARROSH:  I’ve dealt with worse.  Matter of fact, I was working on one just before I wound up here.

LIADRIN:  What enemy was that?

GARROSH:  A demon called Malchezaar – taking him out wouldn’t even be that big of a deal, but I kind of have to get him out of his lair in order to defeat him.

LIADRIN:  Something you would need powerful magic to do?

GARROSH:  Probably.  Magic not really being my strong suit.

LIADRIN:  I may know whose it is.  You want to talk to the Wizard of Zhan.

GARROSH:  The who now?

LIADRIN:  The Wizard of Zhan!  He’s a wise, mysterious mage who lives in the Dark Tower far away.

GARROSH:  So this guy is pretty powerful?

LIADRIN:  Extremely – they say there’s no end to what he can do.

GARONA:  Let’s not get carried away now.

GARROSH:  You know him?

GARONA:  We’ve met.

GARROSH:  So how do I get to him?

LIADRIN:  The tower of Zhan is far to the east of Dustwallow, in the Pass of Dying Winds.  Luckily for you, the eastward Gold Road will take you straight there.

Liadrin points to the yellow brick road beneath their feet.

GARROSH:  Well that’s convenient.

GARONA:  I can go with you, since I know the Wizard.

LIADRIN:  You should get started – it’s a long trip, especially since you’ll be walking.

GARROSH:  Screw walking, I’ve got my wyvern right here.  I can just hop on and fly along the road.

GARONA:  Great!  I can get on behind you and hold onto you.

GARROSH:  Okay, so walking it is.  Grats on the dodged bullet, Mortimer.


LIADRIN:  We’ll see you off!  Good luck on your journey!

GARROSH:  Hey, actually…you said this road leads right to Zhan?

LIADRIN:  Yes, it does.

GARROSH:  Even though there’s an ocean between here and there?  Because we’re kind of on a different continent.

LIADRIN:  Yes, but fortunately the road runs across the Willing Suspension Bridge of Disbelief.

GARROSH:  Huh.  Okay then.  Off we go.

Garrosh, Garona, and Mortimer start to follow the road while the Mudsprockets gather behind them.




You’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan.
We hear he’s sage: the mightiest mage
Who ever met mortal man.
If you seek some sorcery for your plan,
The Wizard’s your man, because he can –
He can, he can, he can, he can, he can.
He’ll have it all done before it began!
You’re off to see the Wizard,
The guardian Wizard of Zhan!

The curtains close.




Posted in General, Transcripts with tags , , , , , , on October 25, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

So don’t ask me to explain what the hell THAT was.  As far as I can tell, whatever glamor hocus pocus Barnes has going on here in the Opera House can pull bits and pieces out of all our thoughts and memories and yank them together into these stories.  Which is kind of cool, I guess, as long as you’re watching it and not stuck in the middle of it.  Or, you know, winding up fake-dead on the floor in the middle of it.  It’s a really weird experience having it happen to you, like you’re watching yourself do this stuff from the inside, only you don’t really have control of it other than short little snippets.  Almost like getting hit with a priest’s mind control.  Only with singing and dancing, in this case.

That last one was extra weird, though.  At least with the first show, it was pretty much working off of our experiences with Southshore and the second timeline and all that.  But with that second one…I mean, I get that parts of it were playing off of things we’ve experienced and modifying them to fit this other story, like the bombing of Theramore, and me and Varian getting into it in Dalaran, and a ton of other little things.  But it’s still really weird seeing them get tweaked like that.  Plus I don’t know WHAT the hell was going on with Mokvar and that human.  Maybe that’s just something the glamor played around with, seeing as Mokvar had some time as a freelancer before he came to Orgrimmar, but I don’t know.  Makes me wonder if I need to start keeping an eye on him too.  You know, along with the zillion other people I’m having to keep an eye on these days.

Anyway, I was stupid enough to think we were finally done with all this crap, so during the intermission after that second show, I pulled Barnes aside (well, as much as you can “pull” a noncorporeal ghost anywhere), but it ended up being another mixed bag.


GARROSH:  Okay, ghost boy, are you satisfied yet?  Are you ready to help us now?

BARNES:  I’d say you and your friends have certainly earned some assistance, sir, yes.

GARROSH:  Oh thank goodness.  So now that we’re done with the stupid stage shows, we can—

BARNES:  Oh, I didn’t say we were done yet, though, sir.  There is still the third show to tend to.

GARROSH:  You just said you were going to help us.

BARNES:  Yes, sir, I did.

GARROSH:  But you’re still throwing us out there for another one of these damn things.

BARNES:  We did bill it as a triple feature, sir.

GARROSH:  You want to explain how all that fits together?

BARNES:  You’ll get your help, sir.  We’ll just work it into the performance — all part of the magic of show business, you see.  Literally in this case, as it happens.

GARROSH:  <grumbles>  You know, it’s a really lucky thing for you that you’re already dead, spooks.

BARNES:  <shrugs>  In any case, sir, I think curtain time has arrived.

GARROSH:  Great…

Barnes walks back onstage and stands under his spotlight while the ghostly audience applauds.

BARNES:  Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to this evening’s final presentation!  Tonight, we plumb the depths of the human soul—

GARROSH:  <offstage>  Fuck that human shit!

BARNES:  Erm, the orcish—

GARONA:  <offstage>  Only half!

BARNES:  The…orcish and half-orcish—

LIADRIN:  <offstage>  No billing for elves?

BARNES:  <sighs>  Tonight, we plumb the depths of the…racially diverse…bipedal…

Barnes looks offstage uncomfortably, bracing himself for another interruption; when none comes, he lets out a sigh of relief and continues.

…racially diverse bipedal soul—

FARANELL:  <offstage>  Haven’t had one in years!

BARNES:  We’re going to show you a story about some people, okay?  And…join a lost orc trying desperately, with the help of his loyal companions, to find a way to protect his home.  But…he is pursued by a wicked, malevolent crone!

The audience gasps.

Will he survive?  Will he prevail?  Only time will tell.  And now: On with the show!

West Azeroth Story, Act 3

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on October 23, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The curtain rises.  Spotlights illuminate the left and right sides of the stage separately, as Garrosh leads the Horde forces across the Barrens on one side and Varian leads the Alliance from Theramore.




The Horde is gonna have its day
The Horde is gonna have its way
Alliance think we’re jokin’, no doubt,
But once their king is broken,
We’re kicking them out.


We’re gonna look ’em in the eyes
We’re gonna cut ’em down to size
We told ’em they could can it: war cries.
We’ll kick ’em off our planet
Once Garrosh, he dies


We’re gonna stop it tonight,
We’re going to drive them off and take Kalimdor!


We’ll turn the tables tonight,
We can’t afford to mess around anymore –
Green-skins invade us!


The Legion made us!
But this time we’re the ones who’ll finish this war!



A spotlight illuminates a Theramore courtyard at stage right, where Jaina is seen with Rhonin.


I really do not like this plan
Things really could get out of hand


They’ll show up for the battle:
Brief truce.
With you there, maybe that’ll
Give an excuse

Jaina nods to Rhonin and rushes out.

A spotlight illuminates Mokvar crossing the Southfury River into the Barrens.


Tonight, tonight,
This stinks like saronite.
Tonight the flames of war could be fanned.
Tonight, tonight,
When our two leaders fight,
That Malkorok may have something planned.

One more spotlight illuminates the Theramore tower, where Deliana looks out a window.


The past may come back calling,
The future that we’re stalling,
And now, out of my sight,
There’s such a fright
That what we’ve done is coming to light…


The Horde is coming out on top tonght!
We’re gonna watch Varian drop tonight!
They’ll go slow as molasses,
Cry and pout.
The door will hit their asses
On their way out.

Garrosh, Malkorok, the rest of the Horde group, and Deliana overlap:


<to Malkorok>  You keep a wide-open eye.




In case he tries something sly.




For the Horde!


For the Horde!


And they might have a surprise


Tonight, tonight
Our role it might indict,
Tonight the flames of war could be fanned.

The Horde, Alliance, Mokvar, Deliana, and Jaina – who is now riding across Dustwallow Marsh – overlap:


We’re gonna stop it tonight!
We’re gonna end it tonight!
They’re gonna get it tonight!


They invaded,
They invaded,
They invaded.


Here we’ve made it,
Here we’ve made it,
Home: we made it.


We can’t afford to mess around.
Alliance has to win the day,
Alliance has to find a way.
We’ve got to stop it tonight.


We’re gonna grind them to the ground,
The Horde is gonna have its day,
The Horde is gonna have its way.
We’ve got to stop it tonight.


Tonight, tonight,
We just might
Have one chance to get it right:
Now Jaina’s got to find a way
To broker peace before the fray:
Will cooler heads carry the day?
Tonight, tonight,
Our future could be bright –
I’ve got to stop it tonight!


Tonight, tonight,
When our two leaders fight,
That Malkorok may have something planned.


The past may come back calling,
The future that we’re stalling,


And now, within my sight,


And now, out of my sight,


There’s such a fright
That what we’ve done is coming to light…



Blackout.  From either side of the stage, the Horde and Alliance enter the Battlescar in the Southern Barrens.  Both groups spread out over their respective sides of the field, then Garrosh and Varian approach each other at center stage, accompanied by Malkorok and Mathias Shaw.

VARIAN:  Warchief.

GARROSH:  Dickface.

VARIAN:  You’re a classy guy, Hellscream, anyone ever tell you that?

GARROSH:  I can have them put that on your gravestone if you want.

VARIAN:  Are you ready?

GARROSH:  To finally put you in the ground?  I’ve been ready for that for years.

Varian draws Shalamayne and extends it in front of him.

VARIAN:  Your blade?

GARROSH:  What about it?

SHAW:  If you would let us inspect it for doctoring.

GARROSH:  What the hell are you implying?

VARIAN:  We’re not implying anything.  It’s just customary to examine each other’s weapons so we can see no one is—

MALKOROK:  The two-legged rodent is suggesting you would poison your blade, Warchief.  For that alone this mongrel will—

GARROSH:  You DARE insinuate I would cheat, human?

VARIAN:  Obviously, Garrosh, you would never employ questionable methods when faced with honorable combat.  Nevertheless.

Varian gestures with Shalamayne.  Garrosh grumbles, then begrudgingly draws Gorehowl and holds it in front of him.

SHAW:  Thank you, Warchief.

VARIAN:  Now then.

GARROSH:  Have your people stand back, Varian.  This is between you and me.

VARIAN:  You do the same.

Garrosh waves to the Horde group, which steps back and spreads in a semicircle from the side of the stage to the background.  Varian signals to the Alliance members, who mirror the Horde’s movements.

MALKOROK:  Now – begin!

Garrosh and Varian rush at each other and begin to fight as furious music swells.  They lunge and parry, circle around the middle of the stage, and match each other’s moves in rhythm with the music.  As the duel unfolds, the spectators begin to shout and cheer for their respective leader, until the cacophonous yells begin to blend into a rhythmic chanting that becomes a counterpoint to the music.

Several times over the course of the fight, Garrosh and Varian lock weapons until one of them shoves the other back toward one side of the stage.  Each time, they circle around then resume their clash at center stage.

Slowly, in the background, Malkorok begins to make his way closer to the Alliance side of the circle.  From under his cloak, he withdraws a long dagger, shining with a sickly green gleam.

Mokvar enters at the edge of the stage.  As he arrives, Garrosh and Varian lock blades and rotate around as each tries to outmuscle the other.  Garrosh finally gains the upper hand and flings Varian back toward the Alliance side.  Malkorok moves toward him from behind, dagger in hand.

MOKVAR:  No!  Look out!

Mokvar runs to center stage and tackles Varian to the ground, in the process knocking him out of the way of Malkorok’s stab.

FALSTAD:  They’re attackin’ His Majesty!

SHAW:  That one had a dagger!

MALKOROK:  <recovering himself>  That treasonous scribe!  He’s helping the human!

SHANDRIS:  They were never going to honor the duel!

GARROSH:  Mokvar!  You!  If I didn’t see it with my own eyes…!

The two sides rush at each other and begin fighting, largely in the background.  At center stage, Garrosh dodges a few Alliance swings, then grabs Mokvar and holds him by his neck while drawing Gorehowl back.

GARROSH:  You…traitorous…!

As Garrosh prepares to swing, Varian grabs him from behind – jarring Garrosh enough to make him lose his grip on Mokvar – and plunges Shalamayne through his back and out of his chest.

GARROSH:  <looking down at the blade>  Oh for fuck’s sake…AGAIN?

MOKVAR:  Oh…oh crap…

GARROSH:  Also, how come this doesn’t actually hurt?  I mean I know I’m badass and all, but…

BARNES:  <from offstage>  It’s just a glamour, you silly actor – special effects can’t really hurt you.

GARROSH:  I…  <looking around>  Oh…

BARNES:  Now stop breaking the fourth wall and get back to your scene!

GARROSH:  Aren’t YOU the one—


GARROSH:  <sighs>  Fine.  <flatly>  Oh I am slain.  Oh agony.  Now I shrug off this mortal coil, it is to laugh, the end.  And shit.

Garrosh drops to the ground, where he lays mostly still while making a half-hearted attempt to play dead.  Around him the fighting rages on between the Horde and Alliance.

LIADRIN:  Garrosh!

DONTRAG:  He killed the Warchief!

UTVOCH:  You bastard!

VARIAN:  Victory!  Hellscream has fallen!  For the Alli—

Garona unstealths behind Varian and stunlocks him, then unleashes a flurry of blows until he drops to the ground.

GARONA:  House of Wrynn!  Two generations running!  Tell Anduin to sleep lightly!  Booyah!

Garona stealths again.  The two sides continue to battle frantically.

MALKOROK:  Now!  With Wrynn slain!  Now, shamans, show the dogs the first of our surprises!

A handful of dark-clad shaman emerge from the Horde group and begin channeling spells.  Several of the surrounding boulders begin to glow, then rise up as molten giants and begin to attack the Alliance.

Jaina enters.

JAINA:  By the Light!  What’s happening here?!

FALSTAD:  The devils ’a broken the agreement!

SHAW:  They’ve killed Varian!

The molten giants stomp on several Alliance soldiers and send the group scattering.

JAINA:  We have to get out of here!  Everyone to me!

The Alliance rush to Jaina, who teleports them away.  The shaman stop channeling their spells, and the molten giants collapse back into boulders.

MALKOROK:  Horde!  The Alliance flees, but they will not escape!  Quickly, to Brackenwall Village!  We will regroup and bring the fight to them!  For the Horde!

The Horde exits, leaving the stage empty save for the bodies of Garrosh and Varian.  The stage lights lower, save for dim lights still illuminating the bodies.

GARROSH:  Well that sucked.

VARIAN:  Yeah, it kind of did.


VARIAN:  Still, though…


VARIAN:  For the record, I got you.

GARROSH:  Fuck you, Varian.

Blackout.  In a Theramore tower, Deliana paces the room.

Jaina enters.

DELIANA:  Jaina!  What happened?

JAINA:  <sighs>  Varian is dead.

DELIANA:  What?!  How?  You mean now we have to…?

JAINA:  It’s not that simple.  Varian is dead, but so is Garrosh.  I’m still not sure how it all happened – by the time I got there, things had already—

A knock at the door is heard.

JONATHAN:  <outside>  Lady Proudmoore!

JAINA:  Come in, General.

The door opens and General Marcus Jonathan enters, along with Jaina’s night elf bodyguard Pained; the pair holds Mokvar captive.

JONATHAN:  Lady Proudmoore, this orc was found lurking outside the city.  He didn’t resist capture, but he did insist on speaking with you.

DELIANA:  Mokvar!

JAINA:  You know him, Deliana?

PAINED:  You should be more selective in your friends.  Shandris says this is one of the orcs that helped kill Varian.

DELIANA:  He what?

MOKVAR:  That’s…not entirely accurate.

JONATHAN:  That’s enough from you, orc.

DELIANA:  There has to have been some mistake.

JONATHAN:  There were several, starting with the decision to trust these green-skinned—

JAINA:  That’s enough, General.  You can leave us.  I’d like to have a few words with the prisoner.

JONATHAN:  As you wish.

JAINA:  You too, Pained.  Please wait outside.

PAINED:  With all due respect, my lady, my place is—

JAINA:  Is where I tell you to go, Pained.  I can take care of myself.

PAINED:  Yes, ma’am.

Jonathan and Pained exit.  Jaina turns to Deliana.

JAINA:  How long have you known him?

DELIANA:  We go back quite a few years.

JAINA:  You trust him?

DELIANA:  I’ve spent the last six years hiding in Ironforge for safety.  I think he did more to protect me from Orgrimmar in that time than any of the dwarves ever did.

JAINA:  <turns to Mokvar>  They say you attacked Varian.  Here’s your chance to explain.

MOKVAR:  I jumped him.  That much is true.  But I wasn’t attacking him.  I was trying to push him out of the way of the one who was.

JAINA:  Who, Garrosh?  Why would you try to swing the duel against the Horde?

MOKVAR:  No, not Garrosh.  If it was just him and Varian, I would have stayed out of it.  It was Malkorok.  He was about to stab Varian from behind.

DELIANA:  Malkorok… Of course it was Malkorok.

MOKVAR:  It ended up backfiring.  Both sides thought I was working against them, and in the chaos, Garrosh was killed.  And by that point I don’t think anyone was interested in honoring the terms of the duel.

JAINA:  I don’t even know how many on our side will be willing to listen to reason now.

DELIANA:  Jaina, can’t you rein them in?  You’d have to be one of the highest ranking people left.

JAINA:  I can try, but I don’t know how much good it will do.  With Anduin still a boy, there’s no clear line of succession, so right now I’m merely one in a sea of voices.

MOKVAR:  The Horde is having its own problems with succession, only worse.  It looks like Malkorok is effectively taking over.

DELIANA:  Oh no…

JAINA:  Who is this Malkorok?

MOKVAR:  A Blackrock orc who used to work for Rend Blackhand.  At least he gave the appearance of it.  I don’t think he ever really served anyone or anything other than his own agenda.

JAINA:  I take it having him leading the Horde would be bad news for all involved.

MOKVAR:  Let’s put it this way.  I know Garrosh was no bargain.  But this guy?  Malkorok would make Garrosh look like Thrall.

JAINA:  Do you think there are others in the Horde who will still resist him?

MOKVAR:  I know there are others who won’t be thrilled to have him in charge.  The only question is whether Malkorok’s managed to scare them into submission.

JAINA:  Then you need to go do what you can while there are some who’ll still listen.  And if not…

Jaina reaches into a pocket and produces a small, smooth stone with totemic markings, then slips it into Mokvar’s hand.

…I think you know what this is for.

Mokvar nods.  Jaina starts to channel a spell, and a portal appears in the room.

Go now – hurry.

MOKVAR:  What will you tell the others?

JAINA:  You let me worry about that.

DELIANA:  Stay safe, Mokvar.

MOKVAR:  I think “safe” is long off the board for all of us.  But it’s partly our fault this is happening.

DELIANA:  I know.  Be careful.

MOKVAR:  Always am.

Mokvar disappears through the portal.

Blackout.  In Brackenwall Village, the Horde group arrives, met by Krog and Draz’Zilb.

KROG:  Malkorok?  What are you all doing here?

MALKOROK:  The human king is slain – but not without a cost!  The dogs turned on us with aid from one of our own, and murdered the Warchief!

KROG:  They what?  Garrosh is dead?

MALKOROK:  He is…but we will ensure that he soon finds himself in good company.

FARANELL:  Wait, didn’t we have an agreement with the Alliance that the duel would decide control of Kalimdor?  And, well, Varian did kill Garrosh before—

Malkorok steps up to Faranell quickly and knocks him down with a vicious blow.

MALKOROK:  Unless you wish to lose more pieces of that rotting corpse you call a body, mage, I recommend you choose your words carefully.

Malkorok glares around as some of the group exchange looks in uneasy silence.

UTVOCH:  I can’t believe the Warchief died…

DONTRAG:  What are we doing now?

DRAZ’ZILB:  Surely we can’t let the Warchief’s death go unanswered!

MALKOROK:  Nor will we!  Listen to me, soldiers of the Horde!  I had little doubt the Alliance pigs would show their true colors in this affair, but we will see to it that they pay for their treachery!

Mokvar enters.

Oh, and speaking of treachery!  Here’s the dog who turned on his own Warchief to lend aid to the human!  Seize him!

Mokvar is apprehended by a pair of Kor’kron and brought closer to the group.

MOKVAR:  It’s funny how selective your memory is, Malkorok.  I’m a traitor for helping Varian, but you’re awfully quick to gloss over what I was helping him against – we both know it wasn’t Garrosh.

MALKOROK:  You think I hide my role, scribe?  Hardly – I take pride in it!  I came to the aid of my Warchief; you came to the aid of his mortal enemy.  Tell me again which of us here should hang his head!

LIADRIN:  Wait, you were interfering with the fight?  It was supposed to be honorable combat!

MALKOROK:  You will be silent, elf!

Malkorok steps toward Liadrin and throws a punch at her; she deflects it with a paladin bubble, then stuns Malkorok with a Hammer of Justice.

LIADRIN:  Now now, didn’t your mother teach you not to hit a lady?  She would be ashamed.

MALKOROK:  <seething as he collects himself>  She taught me to crush my foes.

LIADRIN:  Then she would be doubly ashamed if the lady in question were to beat you down.

MOKVARThat’s why I jumped in – to keep him from ambushing Varian and—

MALKOROK:  And slaying the leader of our enemy!  Are you fool enough to think you serve our Warchief by saving his nemesis?

MOKVAR:  Garrosh Hellscream had many failings, but he believed in honor.  At least until he started having his steps shadowed by the likes of you.

MALKOROK:  In battle, nothing is more honorable than victory.

MOKVAR:  Funny, I can think of at least one victory Garrosh would have gladly given back…

MALKOROK:  Keep spinning your words, scribe – it’s what a coward like you does, isn’t it?

Malkorok turns to the rest of the group.

The rest of you – what I am calling for is not words.  Your fallen Warchief did not spend his days dawdling over words.  He sought action.  For the safety of the Horde!  For the glory of the Horde!  So let this scribe lull you into submission with his words – I call on you to act!  To avenge your leader!  To finally strike the human disease that has too long infected this continent.  Will you join me?  Or will you sit here, and bandy about words, and wring your hands over niceties – until the Alliance again show themselves for what they are, and again come to enslave our people, and again leave the ground stained with orcish blood?

Many of the Horde troops, including most of the Kor’kron, start to shout in support.

Good!  That is the Horde I know!  Now, all of you!  Follow me, and we will show the Alliance what becomes of those who draw our wrath!  To Theramore!  More surprises await the humans…

DRAZ’ZILB:  None greater than how quickly they’ll fall before us!

KROG:  Hell yeah, we’ll roll over the humans so fast they won’t even know what hit them!

MALKOROK:  Oh no, soldiers, not quickly – quick is painless.  And these humans must be made to suffer for their crimes against our people!

DRAZ’ZILBNow you’re talking my language!

DONTRAG:  <aside>  Does this seem a little strange to you?

UTVOCH:  <aside>  All I know is they killed the Warchief… I guess it makes sense to go after them…

MALKOROK:  Every pain these humans have brought to us will be repaid tenfold tonight!  You want to avenge your Warchief?  Then leave your pity and your mercy here – bring only your rage and your cruelty!




Horde, Horde, angry Horde,
Get cruel, Horde!
Vow again, gents, for your vengeance,
Get cruelly cruel, Horde!
Don’t relent, ’cause we have spent
Too long holding back.
Set in mind that humankind
Is overdue for some cruel payback.

Horde, Horde, vengeful Horde!
Stay fierce, Horde!
From the skies comes their demise,
Bring them to tears, Horde!
Fight, Horde, fight,
Each human we’ll smite, each fool floored.
Unleash, be cruel, Horde,
Real cruel.

Mokvar, Liadrin, and Faranell watch the rest of the group march off behind Malkorok.

LIADRIN:  I can’t believe I’m saying it, but I think I’m actually glad Garrosh didn’t live to see this…

MOKVAR:  Yeah…

Mokvar tries to take a step, but is restrained by the two Kor’kron who’ve remained behind, and are still holding him.

<looking back and forth between the Kor’kron>  Huh.

One of the Kor’kron slumps over, sapped.

KOR’KRON #2:  What the—?

The other Kor’kron turns into a sheep in a puff of smoke.

FARANELL:  That’s better.

Garona unstealths behind the sapped guard.

GARONA:  You really have a way with people, Mokvar.

MOKVAR:  I know, right?  Still…thanks for sticking with me.  All of you.

LIADRIN:  I think we’re about to be outcasts among the outcasts.

FARANELL:  Eh.  You get used to it.

MOKVAR:  I was hoping there would be more who would listen…

LIADRIN:  Right now they don’t know what to think.  So most of them aren’t.

FARANELL:  And the rest of them are Dontrag and Utvoch.  So, you know…

GARONA:  What was that business about the surprise for Theramore?

LIADRIN:  I don’t know, but…wait…that part about it coming from the skies…

FARANELL:  What are you thinking?

LIADRIN:  <looks up>  There’s been a goblin sky galleon circling around the western Barrens all night…

FARANELL:  Sending troops in by parachute?

GARONA:  He would send a gunship for that.  A galleon isn’t designed for troop deployment, just…payload.

LIADRIN:  I think he’s planning to use a bomb…

MOKVAR:  Jaina’s trying to calm the Alliance down and get them to listen to reason, but that’s off the board if Malkorok escalates things even more.

FARANELL:  Remember when this cunning plan was going to spare us a big, messy, drawn-out war?

MOKVAR:  I’m hoping we can still limit the damage…

LIADRIN:  What do you have in mind?

MOKVAR:  For starters – Garona, can you stealth into Theramore?  We need you to warn them about what Malkorok’s doing.

GARONA:  Wait, you want to warn the Alliance that a Horde attack is coming?

LIADRIN:  To keep all of this from getting any further out of hand than it already is.

MOKVAR:  And to let them see that not all of the Horde has gone crazy.

GARONA:  Ugh, fine.  I’ll get in and try to warn them.

LIADRIN:  What about Edwin and I?  What do you want us to do?



FARANELL:  I can handle that.

MOKVAR:  Get back to the Eastern Kingdoms.

LIADRIN:  Why?  We should do something to help here.

FARANELL:  Don’t argue with the man.  Not-here sounds terrific.

MOKVAR:  Look, there’s no telling how much uglier this is going to get for us.  If things really go bad in Kalimdor, we need some good people still standing over on the other continent.

LIADRIN:  There’s still Sylvanas and Lor’themar to run things there.

MOKVAR:  You mean Miss “When in Doubt, Throw More Plague on It”—

FARANELL:  You do realize who she has in charge of making all the plague, right?

MOKVAR:  —and Mr. “Does Anyone Actually Know Who I Am, and By the Way Does This Dress Make Me Look Fat”?

LIADRIN:  Seriously, why does no one ever remember who Lor’themar is?


LIADRIN:  <sigh>

MOKVAR:  Liadrin, really, I know you want to help, but right now the best way for you to do that is by getting somewhere safe.

LIADRIN:  What are you going to do?

MOKVAR:  <taking out the stone he’d received from Jaina>  I’ve got one more card to try playing.

LIADRIN:  Whatever it is, good luck.

MOKVAR:  To all of us.

Garona stealths and sneaks off; Faranell teleports himself and Liadrin away.  Mokvar holds out the stone, channels a spell for several seconds, then disappears in a green flash.

Blackout.  In Theramore, Jaina joins Deliana in the tower above.

JAINA:  You haven’t moved since Mokvar left.

DELIANA:  <shrugs>  As long as I keep looking and not seeing anything, then nothing else is coming apart.

JAINA:  Hopefully he’ll be able to convince them.

DELIANA:  Hopefully.  Thank you for being willing to listen to him.

JAINA:  I’ve been rumored to know what it’s like to trust an orc when it’s not a terribly popular thing to do.

Rhonin enters.  As he does, stagelights illuminate the Theramore courtyard below, where Garona unstealths.  The scene below unfolds as the conversation in the tower continues: Garona is immediately attacked by Pained, Shaw, and a few of the Theramore guards; she attempts to fend off their attacks without actively striking anyone, while trying to talk, but to no avail; eventually more Alliance troops mob her, beating her viciously.

JAINA:  Rhonin – any luck calming them down?

RHONIN:  <shaking head>  No more than you’ve had so far.  This entire turn of events is proof of why both sides should have listened when we tried to start peace talks.

JAINA:  I don’t think listening was ever the strong suit of either of the leaders involved.

RHONIN:  Still, I’m hopeful that given a chance to calm down, they’ll eventually be willing to reconsider.

JAINA:  The question is whether they’ll give themselves that chance to calm down.

RHONIN:  You think they might do something rash?

JAINA:  If they don’t, the Horde might.  Either way, we all lose.

Falstad and Jonathan drag a bloodied Garona up to the tower and enter, followed closely by Pained and Shaw.

JONATHAN:  Lady Proudmoore, we have another Horde captive!

JAINA:  What…what did you do to her?

SHAW:  Nothing these orcs don’t deserve.

FALSTAD:  Aye, the troops made sure this one’d be takin’ some partin’ gifts, if’n she escapes…

JAINA:  This… Is this what it’s come to now?  Is this what we’ve reduced ourselves to?

PAINED:  We didn’t start this war, my lady.

GARONA:  <halting>  No…but Malkorok…is coming…coming to finish it.

JAINA:  Malkorok!  He’s still in charge?  Mokvar couldn’t stop him?

GARONA:  He…he tried… And then he…he sent me to…to warn you…to…  <looks around disgustedly>  …to save you…

JAINA:  Warn us about what?  What is Malkorok doing?

SHAW:  <shoving Garona>  Answer her, orc!

JAINALet her!

GARONA:  Malkorok…Malkorok is bringing the Horde to…to attack Theramore…and…  <spits out blood, then looks around again angrily>  He’s throwing the whole force at the north gate…

PAINED:  We can pull everyone into the keep and fortify it, my lady – they’ll never get past the walls without siege engines.

SHAW:  Still, I’d recommend sending out an advance force to intercept, maybe thin out their numbers before they can get here.

JAINA:  See to that, Mathias.  While you go out to meet them, we’ll make sure the city is sealed up tightly.  General Jonathan?

JONATHAN:  Yes, Lady Proudmoore?

JAINA:  I want you, General Redmane, and Admiral Aubrey coordinating the defenses here.  I’ll speak to Rhonin about setting up some spells to reinforce the outer gates.

JONATHAN:  Yes, ma’am.  I’ll relay your orders.

Jonathan runs out.  As he releases his grip on Garona, she jerks to one side and pulls free of Falstad’s grip, then stealths.

FALSTAD:  Dammit!  Where’d tha’ one go?

PAINED:  We’re having a very bad day with prisoners today…

JAINA:  Never mind that – everyone get to work preparing for the attack.

The other officers exit.

I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this…

DELIANA:  I think I see them coming…

JAINA:  <sighs>  I’d better get down there, then…

Jaina exits; Deliana continues watching from the window.

Blackout.  In Dustwallow Marsh, near Theramore, Malkorok enters with the rest of the Horde force, stage left.  From stage right, an Alliance group enters, led by Falstad, Shandris, and Shaw.

SHANDRIS:  There they are!  Stop them!  For the Alliance!

The Alliance rushes at the Horde and the two sides begin fighting.  Malkorok stands back, surveying the battle and watching the sky.  As the fighting rages on, he fires a flare into the sky; after a moment, a blinding burst of light flashes from offstage to the right, as an enormous explosion is heard.  The blast throws several of the Alliance on the right side of the stage a good distance to the left, and many of them sprawl on the ground unconscious.

MALKOROK:  HAHA!  There!  It is done!  See what becomes of the enemies of the Horde, Alliance dogs!  Now, quickly, finish them all, and—

MOKVAR:  <offstage>  Not so fast!

Mokvar enters in ghost wolf form from stage left, closely followed by Vol’jin mounted on a raptor and Baine Bloodhoof on a kodo.

VOL’JIN:  Yah, mon, dere been enough killin’ already taday!

MALKOROK:  You!  I see the traitor has made friends among the malcontents!  No matter, troll, you can watch and learn how—

BAINE:  We will watch nothing other than you standing down!

MALKOROK:  Stand down!  Do you think yourself Warchief now, tauren?  Is that an order?

BAINE:  No, Malkorok, I know I’m not Warchief.  <stares Malkorok down a moment>  And yes, that’s an order.

From stage right, Jaina staggers in unsteadily.

Lady Proudmoore!

SHANDRIS:  <pulling herself up slowly>  Jaina…you…you survived…!

JAINA:  Rhonin…Rhonin ported me out of the city at the last second… But he…he…

MOKVAR:  <looking offstage to the right>  Liana…?

JAINA:  <looking back>  My…my city…my people… They’re…they’re…

MALKOROK:  Enough of this!  Soldiers of the Horde, this is our moment – strike down your enemies once and for all, and—

BAINE:  They will do nothing of the kind, Malkorok!

VOL’JIN:  You be done givin’ orders, mon!

MALKOROK:  And who will, troll?  You?  You think you have any authority to take over here?

VOL’JIN:  Funny ting you be askin’, mon.

Another ghost wolf enters behind Vol’jin, Baine, and Mokvar.

I ain’t da one who be takin’ over.

The ghost wolf moves to center stage and transforms into Thrall.

THRALL:  I believe you’ve done more than enough today, Malkorok.

MALKOROK:  So the prodigal shaman returns!  No matter!

Malkorok draws his axes and rushes at Thrall.  Before he can reach him, Thrall extends one hand and summons a whirlwind that holds Malkorok suspended above the ground.

THRALL:  I’ve faced far more imposing threats than you.  More menacing and chilling than the likes of you could even imagine.

MALKOROK:  <struggling to break out of the whirlwind>  Yes, I know all about your battle with Deathwing, shaman…

THRALL:  I was talking about Aggra with morning sickness.

Jaina finally pulls her attention away from the ruined city and approaches center stage, looking around angrily.

JAINA:  I tried to tell you… And Rhonin… You did this…all of you…did this with your hate…  <starts to build a fireball in her hand>  Well now I have some hate of my own…

THRALL:  Jaina, no!

JAINA:  Don’t try to defend him, Thrall!  You see what he did here!

THRALL:  <glares over to Malkorok, still suspended>  I could care less what happens to this…this.  But the rest of my people have done nothing.

Jaina continues gathering the fireball in her hand as she eyes Malkorok.  In the background, Dontrag and Utvoch can be seen helping Falstad and Shaw to their feet.

JAINA:  Get them out of here.

SHAW:  But Jaina, they—

JAINAToday isn’t the day for anyone to argue with me.  Get them together and get them away from here, Go’el.

Thrall nods, then gestures to Vol’jin and Baine.

BAINE:  All of you, come and come quickly.

VOL’JIN:  Time ta make ourselves invisible like da Lich King’s horse!

BAINE:  You really need a new joke.  Seriously.

The Horde slowly makes its way offstage to the left; Baine and Vol’jin follow them.  Mokvar finally pulls himself away from the sight of Theramore and slowly walks across the stage, stopping to stare a moment at Malkorok as he goes, then exits as well.  Jaina’s gaze never moves from Malkorok.

JAINA:  We’ve all lost a great deal to this conflict…  <looks back over her shoulder>  All of you…leave us.

The Alliance members trickle out; Shaw is the last one to linger at the edge of the stage.

SHAW:  Um, actually, strictly speaking, there isn’t anyplace for us to go to anymo—

JAINAGet OUT, Mathias.

SHAW:  Random swamp wandering it is, yes ma’am.

Shaw exits.

JAINA:  You should go too, Thrall.

THRALL:  I suspect there are more than a few pieces to pick up back in Orgrimmar.

JAINA:  You should go help pick them up, then.

THRALL:  I’m sorry for your people, Jaina.

JAINA:  A lot of us are sorry.  Or will be.

Thrall releases Malkorok and starts to walk away.

MALKOROK:  The great Warchief!  That’s it, is it?  You side with this human over your own kind!

THRALL:  <continuing to walk away without looking back>  You are not my kind, Malkorok.

Thrall exits.

MALKOROK:  Don’t you walk away from me when I’m—

Malkorok starts to move toward Thrall but is stopped when Jaina unleashes her fireball on the ground in front of him, cutting off his path with a wide patch of flame.

JAINA:  Malkorok, is it?  I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.  I’m Jaina Proudmoore.  <summons another fireball in her hand>  I think it’s time we had a long, long – terribly long, really, and maybe unnecessarily slow – talk.

The curtain closes.  Just as it does, a bright red flash can be seen through the heavy cloth, accompanied by an orcish voice crying out.  The remaining stage lights go out.

West Azeroth Story, Act 2

Posted in Transcripts with tags , , , , , , , , , , on October 18, 2012 by Garrosh Hellscream

The curtain rises to reveal Grommash Hold, where Garrosh is conferring with Eitrigg and Malkorok.

EITRIGG:  I still do not like this plan, Warchief.  Thrall would never—

MALKOROKThrall is not here, old man.

EITRIGG:  No…indeed he is not.

GARROSH:  This battle will secure the supremacy of the Horde on this continent, Eitrigg, and do it without any loss of men or material.

EITRIGG:  If you succeed, Warchief.  If you do not—

GARROSH:  Do you doubt that I can defeat that human, Eitrigg?

MALKORK:  Rest assured, old man, the Warchief will prevail.  And even if the impossible happens…well, suffice to say: We are the Horde.  Even when we lose, we win.

EITRIGG:  What is that supposed to—?

Garona runs in.

GARONA:  Warchief!  I’ve just returned from Blackrock Mountain!

MALKOROK:  What were you doing there, rogue?

GARROSH:  I sent her, Malkorok.

GARONA:  I investigated, just as you asked, Garrosh.

MALKOROK:  What could you possibly have to investigate in that place?

GARROSH:  Mokvar.

MALKOROK:  That scribe?

EITRIGG:  What would Mokvar be doing in Blackrock Mountain?

GARROSH:  Good question.  What WAS he doing there, Garona?

GARONA:  Meeting the human woman, Warchief.

GARROSH:  <grumbles>  I was afraid of that.  What did you find out?

GARONA:  I wasn’t able to hear much.  Something about someone being untouchable…and assassins…


GARONA:  I could make out Mokvar saying they would both be in trouble if anyone found out about them…

MALKORK:  The bastard spoke true there.

GARONA:  And I think they’re planning to meet again.

GARROSH:  Oh good, another rendezvous for the lovebirds…

MALKOROK:  More like conspirators, Warchief.  Traitors!

EITRIGG:  But traitors to whom, if they’re afraid of angering both Horde and Alliance?

MALKOROK:  That insipid notetaker was already a traitor the moment he set his gaze on that pink-skinned harlot!

GARONA:  He certainly seemed concerned about her welfare.

MALKOROK:  He should worry more about his own.

EITRIGG:  I would remind you, we still don’t really know what Mokvar is doing.

GARROSH:  We know enough to put me in a rotten mood.  It would have been bad enough if he were merely having some…revolting affair with this human.  But the thought that they might be up to something more than that makes my head spin.




I feel cranky,
And quite frankly,
Hanky-panky is rankly dismissed.
And I’ll thank ye
Not to get me any further pissed.

I feel surly,
My head’s swirly,
Not too early for a burly street brawl.
And quite surely
Tonight Varian is going to fall.

See this angry orc in the war room here?
Wonder how he got so enraged.
Such a cranky mood,
Such a cranky face—


Such a—


               Shut up, you,
I won’t be upstaged!

I feel vengeful
And vindictive
My revenge will be strict; give this vibe:
I’m betrayed
By a frankly traitorous scribe! 


Will you reconsider this, Warchief?
We do not know nearly enough.
You’ll just set yourself up for more grief;
For all we know, Mokvar’s just affecting a bluff.

You think he’s allured?
You think you’re betrayed?
How can we be sure
What game he has played?

I plead with you, sir –
You’re so full of wrath.
You once relieved Krom’gar;
Don’t follow his path.


Keep silent, old man,
Lest you suffer!
That scribe has done
More than enough, sir.

Deceitful and vain,
Disloyal as well;
His open disdain
He’s proven full well!


I feel vicious,
And malicious.
This seditious orc surely will pay.
And my wish is
I could get my hands on him today. 


La la la la…


I feel spiteful.
I feel hostile.
But tonight we’ll accost all our foes.
While you flank me,
I’ll give Varian one on the nose.


La la la la…


See this angry orc in the war room here?


Yes, sir, rightly so!


You know how he got so pissed off.


Sir, I still say—


Such a cranky mood,
Such a cranky face—


Please, sir, think again—


Don’t make me scoff!



Now I’ll partake,
Feel my rage burn;
Soon Mokvar’ll take a turn for the worst.
But tonight
The Alliance is getting theirs first.

MALKOROK:  Hah!  Music to my ears indeed, sir!  Tonight the Alliance finally pays for their insolence, and then we can deal with that insipid, traitorous scribe!

GARROSH:  Come along, Malkorok, let’s gather the others and begin the march to the Barrens.

MALKOROK:  Of course, Warchief.

GARROSH:  Eitrigg, watch over Orgrimmar in our absence.  We’ll return soon enough for the first of many victory celebrations.

Garrosh and Malkorok exit.

EITRIGG:  <watching them go>  I do not know if it was a curse or a blessing that Grom did not live to know his son…

GARONA:  The Alliance would be only too happy to wipe us out as well, Eitrigg.  Don’t forget how many times Varian has called us monsters.

EITRIGG:  And I do not object to defending ourselves against him.  But I would prefer not to do so by proving him right.

Mokvar enters.



MOKVAR:  Eitrigg, I need to—

Mokvar slumps over as Garona darts around and saps him from behind.

EITRIGG:  Garona, what are you doing?!

GARONA:  Incapacitating the traitor before he has a chance to—

EITRIGG:  To what?  Write us a mean letter?

GARONA:  Garrosh would have wanted us to—

EITRIGG:  Garrosh isn’t here.  And we have long since gotten out of the habit of honoring the wishes of our Warchiefs in their absence.

Eitrigg eyes Mokvar carefully.

I would like to hear what he has to say for himself.

A dim spotlight, stage left, illuminates Garrosh and Malkorok marching through Orgrimmar gathering Liadrin, Faranell, Dontrag, Utvoch, and other assorted Horde mainstays.

A moment after the Horde activities come into view, a second dim spotlight, stage right, illuminates Deliana talking in pantomime with Jaina Proudmoore in a Theramore tower.  An additional spotlight below them shows Varian making his way among Alliance troops, gathering some – Falstad Wildhammer, Mathias Shaw, Shandris Feathermoon – to join him, while directing others – Horran Redmane, Marcus Jonathan, Tarlen Aubrey – to posts within Theramore.

At center stage, Mokvar regains consciousness and looks around, briefly disoriented.

MOKVAR:  I would ask what that was for, but I think I already know that the answer would be.

GARONA:  Shouldn’t you be in Blackrock Spire with your lady friend?

MOKVAR:  So I’m guessing Deliana and I weren’t the only ones in Blackrock.

GARONA:  Sorry if I was spoiling your privacy.

EITRIGG:  Garona, enough.

GARONA:  Ugh, fine.

MOKVAR:  Has Garrosh heard?

EITRIGG:  Indeed.  You’re fortunate he’s already left for the Barrens…

MOKVAR:  So, how pissed is he, on a scale of one to…well…one to Garrosh…?

GARONA:  Right now I’d say he’s hovering around Garrosh squared.

MOKVAR:  Crap.

GARONA:  Seriously.  He did a whole musical number about it.

EITRIGG:  It likely doesn’t help matters that he has that blasted Malkorok fanning the flames for him.

MOKVAR:  Yeah, that’s part of the problem – why I was going to see Deliana in the first place.  Well, mostly.

EITRIGG:  Mokvar, who is this woman?

MOKVAR:  An old friend, from years before I came to Orgrimmar.  She and I were in a mercenary company called the Veiled Blade.  Years ago, we were hired for a mission in Blackrock Spire.  We fought one of Nefarian’s lieutenants there, a drakonid called Lord Valthalak.  We killed him…mostly…but after we made off with our loot, his spirit sent spectral assassins after us.  That’s when Deliana and I went into hiding – me in Orgrimmar, her in Ironforge.

EITRIGG:  And the rest of your group?

MOKVAR:  Dead.  Mostly, anyway.

EITRIGG:  What business do you have with her now?  And why all the secrecy?

MOKVAR:  Other than her being a human and us being at war?

EITRIGG:  I’m not unfamiliar with unlikely friendships.

MOKVAR:  I’d thought we’d laid this Valthalak business to rest years ago, but now it looks like those spectral assassins are on the move again.  We have no idea why, but we’ve been trying to find out.

EITRIGG:  I wish you’d come to us with this first, Mokvar.  Garrosh has come to consider you a friend, but the news of you sneaking off to meet with this human…

MOKVAR:  Yeah, I know…

EITRIGG:  He’s grown belligerent enough of late, with precious few to counter the whispers of that Malkorok urging him headlong into foolish confrontations.

MOKVAR:  And that’s the other part of this, Eitrigg.

EITRIGG:  What is?

MOKVAR:  Malkorok.  We’ve met before.  <long sigh>  In Blackrock Spire.

EITRIGG:  You what?

MOKVAR:  He can’t be trusted, Eitrigg.  I know he has Garrosh’s ear, and that…that’s a problem.

EITRIGG:  Mokvar, by the spirits, why haven’t you said anything?  Do you have any idea how many of us have prayed for some way to convince Garrosh not to listen to that monster?

MOKVAR:  That’s…a long story.

EITRIGG:  Right now I don’t think we have much time for it.  Garrosh and the devil on his shoulder are on their way to the Barrens now… Mokvar, whatever is in your past, you’ve been nothing but an honorable man since I’ve known you.  Answer me: How sure are you about Malkorok?  That he’s not to be trusted?

MOKVAR:  Rend trusted him all those years ago.  And I can tell you for a certainty – he shouldn’t have.

EITRIGG:  I was already worried about his role in this spirits-forsaken challenge…

GARONA:  You think he has some secret agenda?

MOKVAR:  I wouldn’t put it past him.

EITRIGG:  Then someone has to intervene.  Mokvar, you have to get down there.  I know Garrosh won’t be happy to see you, but if he’s walking into something…

MOKVAR:  I know.

GARONA:  I’ll go with you.  Maybe he’ll listen to me.

MOKVAR:  Does he ever listen to you?

GARONA:  Hey, at least he hasn’t declared his desire to brutally murder me in glorious song in the last fifteen minutes, how about you?

MOKVAR:  Also, weren’t you the one ready to stunlock and kill me yourself just a few minutes ago?

GARONA:  Yes.  And if it turns out that you’re lying, I still can.

MOKVAR:  Reassuring.

GARONA:  Right now, I can either trust you or not.  If I trust you, and I’m wrong, I’ll still be there to stop you and kill you – and don’t think I won’t.  But if I ignore you now, and I’m wrong…

EITRIGG:  We’re losing valuable time.  Hurry, both of you…

MOKVAR:  We will.  Thanks, Eitrigg.

EITRIGG:  You can thank me by not proving me a sentimental old fool for trusting my instincts on you.  Go quickly now – lok’tar.

MOKVAR:  Lok’tar.

GARONA:  Ogar.

Mokvar and Garona exist and Eitrigg begins to pave the room as the lights dim and the curtain closes.